The Crow: Angel of Vengeance

by CrypticMetaphor

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Tragedy, Dark, Anthro
Length: 3894

A year after her and Sweetie Belle's death, Rarity is resurrected as an undead engine of revenge.

Rarity was a happy mare. She loved her job, had great friends, and a loving sister. Her sister Sweetie Belle being a fan of a new rock band known as "The Ash Bringers" and wanting to spend more time with her elder sibling, invites her along to one of their concerts, which Rarity reluctantly accepts. Things then take a horrific turn when they are both invited back stage. Blood, blades, burned out candles, and the bodies of two mares are found later that same night. Now one year after the murders, reports of a white mare garbed in black and painted up like a 'mime from Tartarus' begin to surface. Who is this mare? A ghost? A demon? A serial killer? Or perhaps an avenging angel.

(Contains blood, swearing, and some dark humor. Reader discretion is advised.)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-22 23:10:02 UTC

Prologue: A Dark And Stormy Night

Night, a period of the natural time sequence that invokes the moon to rise and ponies to curl up in the security of their home with loved ones.  For some it is also a time of celebration, mischief, and at the most unfortunate of times, murder.  This night was like most.  The crisp grass beneath the boots of the royal guards crunched ever so softly.  The smell of the air was tinged with the scent of pine and fallen leaves, as was the case with the autumn season.  One thing that was uncommon for the season was a mass of gold armored and dark armored guards gathered outside a small concert hall.  It had seen the signs of a most eventful night ponies from the ages of late adolescent to adulthood either lingered nearby or had long passed out on benches.  The hall itself had been closed off to the public due to an unfortunate and horrifying crime.  Guards were keeping the ponies at bay well into the hour until a chariot pulled up.  Two ponies disembarked from the newly arrived mode of transportation.  The first was dressed in a black coat with matching pants and shoes, to some he almost looked like The Reaper incarnate. He was an elderly stallion with a ash coat and faded chestnut mane cut short and slicked back.  The reaper comment was always put to rest whenever his gold badge of chief inspector was displayed on his lapel.

Beside him was a younger mare dressed in a white shirt and wearing a beige raincoat.  Her coat was a creamy yellow with a chocolate mane cut in a cascade, her sapphire eyes scanning the area.  She wore the badge of a lower ladder inspector on her black pants belt loop.  Her dark brown shoes as well as her superiors clacked slowly on the pavement as they made their ways inside.  The elderly stallion approached the one in charge of the scene.

“Lieutenant Solstice, it’s good to see you again.”

The guard nodded, “Likewise Earl Deeds.”

Earl sighed, “So what’s the skinny?  I didn’t get much info on the ride over.”

“Well I’m sorry to sound blunt but it’s….tragic,” the guard visibly steadied himself; “It’s a double homicide.”

The guard led them back stage as he continued, “Currently there are no suspects,” the lower inspector picked up a flyer that displayed a logo in flaming letters, “the band that played here was a new one, “The Ash Bringers”, fresh blood and this was their first stop on a tour.  From what we’ve been able to gather from the staff around here they left a half hour before the call was made.”

Earl pondered on this, “So it’s safe to assume they might have caused it?”

The mare beside him shook her head, “Don’t think so, could have been anypony back here.  Maybe they just left because they were tired.”

Earl rolled his eyes, “Which makes this all the screwier,” he glanced at the guard as he opened a panel near the far back, “Who are the vics?”

The guard led them into a massive room illuminated by red bulbs.  The room had long since been used.  Surrounding the interior were chairs that were arranged in a fashion that a pony might use to watch a performance.  There were ten in total and what they were watching was a section of the floor that had two black sheets covering two bodies.  Surrounding the area was a series of burnt out candles and a couple of assorted bloodied knives.  Earl approached the one sheet and pulled it back and cursed.

“She’s just a filly, what sick fuck would do this?”

The mare then lifted the other sheet and widened her eyes, “Wait a minute boss.”

“What is it Gleam?”

“I know this mare,” she pulled it back revealing the face; “she was a dress maker in Ponyville, names Rarity.”

Rarity stared with what could be described as sorrow and utter agony at the other sheeted body.  Her mane was frayed and reddened by blood and she almost seemed to be reaching out to the other cadaver.  The clothes she wore were tarnished and shredded; bits of flesh hung from some of the deeper more primal looking cuts.  Gleam shook her head with matching sorrow; it did not take a genius to guess who the other victim was.  Gleam looked across the room and noticed cracked glass that had a heeled shoe in it.

Earl gingerly took a ticket from the guard that was wrapped in plastic, “This ticket was reserved and found on the second victim, name, Sweetie Belle.”

Gleam stood and refused to look under the other sheet, “What now?”

Earl sighed in a defeated fashion, “We inform the loved ones.  These two deserve nothing short of a proper burial and the upmost respect.  Rarity was an element of harmony after all.”

In the coming hours many calls were made and the scene was cleaned up.  The remains were sent to Ponyville and a grand funeral was held for the two mares.  Many tears were shed that solemn day at the funeral.  During the procession one question plagued all the minds who attended, why?

Chapter 1: Raise Me Up

One Year Later

Twilight as per usual was sorting through one of her older shelves and levitating the books of said shelf in a massive rotating dome glancing at the titles then pointing at the spot she wished for the book to rest.  The book then would slide quickly into place and she would rinse and repeat the procedure.  As she continued to levitate the books a knock broke her concentration causing her wings to flare in slight annoyance.  She opened the door but smiled at the sight of the mail mare clutching her houses mail.

“Hi Derpy, anything good for me this time?”

Derpy nodded with a smile, “Not to many bills from what I’ve seen.”

Twilight went to grab the stack of letters but stopped short when a flyer dropped from it and onto the ground.  Both mares stared with utter shock and pained looks appeared.  The flyer displayed the latest tour schedule for “The Ash Bringers”.

Twilight shook her head, “Unbelievable.  They have the gull to tour around here again after…”

Derpy placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, “She would've wanted us to forget about them and move on.”

Twilight sighed, “I know it’s just…ever since that night when she went with Sweetie I've always wondered how such a thing like that could happen to Rarity.  Both of them didn't deserve what they got,” the feeling of tears welled up at the remembrance of that solemn day a year ago; “worse yet the killers were never found.”

Derpy smiled softly, “Don’t worry Twilight, wherever they are now I have a feeling they’ll get what they deserve when the time comes.”

Twilight nodded, “I suppose your right.”

Derpy glanced around, “I just realized.  Where’s Spike?”

Twilight smiled as she wiped away the tears, “Playing with the girls.  Later tonight they’re going to go pay their respects.”

Derpy nodded and soon took to the sky.

The following hours were passed in relative normalcy.  Ponies walked around and casually chatted about times long passed in their lives.  Many ponies however would grow silent whenever they passed Carousel Boutique.  The building stood with boarded windows and a locked door, turning the once magnificent and welcoming building into a monument of respect as well as remembrance to the previous occupant.  Nopony bought the building out of an unspoken respect for Rarity when she lived there happily toiling some days away.  On the days when she and Fluttershy would go to the spa, the shy Pegasus and her friends would always leave a single flower on the doorstep.  One such friend was Spike the dragon who stood somberly before the building.  He sighed as he walked past it toward Ponyville cemetery.  Waiting for him there was Applebloom and Scootaloo with flowers clutched in their hands.  All three individuals approached a section of the cemetery that possessed two grave stones, one read ‘Sweetie Belle’, the other beside it had the depiction of the Element of Generosity upon it’s cold stone with ‘Rarity’ below it.

Applebloom and Scootaloo placed their flowers upon the marker.

Applebloom bent down, “Hey Sweetie, you’ll never guess what happened today.  Scoots and I tried your rappelling idea.”

Scootaloo clutched her shoulder, “Went as well as you would have expected.”

Both girls shared a laugh but then fell silent as Scootaloo sniffled slightly, “We miss you, every day.”

Applebloom nodded sadly as both girls stood up and looked at Spike who stood before Rarity’s grave in silence.  He glanced at them and gave a small smile and ushered them to go on ahead.

Spike knelt down and placed a single red rose upon the earth as the far off sound of thunder echoed, “Rarity,” tears began to drip from his eyes, “Every day that you’re gone…it’s just so hard to forget about you.  You were funny, smart, and beautiful.  Why did this have to happen to such a kind mare like you?”

He then punched the ground in sadness, “IT’S NOT FAIR!”

Spike knelt there for close to an hour as raindrops began to hit his scales gently at first.  But soon it developed into an unrelenting torrent.  Spike noticed that the sun had long since set and he sighed and stood.  He stopped when he noticed a lone crow perched on Rarity’s grave stone.  It tilted its head at him which he mirrored.  The bird then cawed and flapped its wings causing the dragon to back up slightly.  The dragon cast one more sorrowful glance at the grave and bolted for home as the crow hopped onto the moistening soil.

*

Her eyes were tired and sore from not being used.  She groaned as an annoying sound entered her ears which to her surprised flicked around trying to trace its source.  The sound grew in volume to the point where her eye lids, after a year of being shut, snapped open.  The scream that echoed through the confined space she was in was one of absolute terror and agony.  Her body screamed to move as she punched the roof in front of her eyes.  Darkness literally bled in around her as she continued to claw her way up.  The hated substance she knew all too well entered her mouth and stung her eyes as she continued her climb.  Eventually her hand pierced the surface and grabbed the grass, yes grass that’s what it was; she hadn’t felt it in a while.  She heaved with all her might and her upper torso emerged.  Her violet mane destroyed by dirt and unkempt and her once magnificent white coat stained.  The clothes she wore were black and slightly tattered due to her escape from her underground prison.  With one last mighty heave she pulled herself fully from the muddy hole and onto the ground.  She looked to the heavens and screamed as she inhaled her first breath of fresh air.  The rain water began to wash away the grime as she stood on unsteady feet; she quickly hobbled to a nearby lamp post and braced herself as her sense of balance returned to her.  A lone crow landed above her and cawed, Rarity cringed away from it.  She shrunk closer to the ground as her eyes scanned the area.  She had to get back to the Boutique, to clear her head, to find Sweetie Belle.

Rarity unsteadily sprinted from the dark place and onto the dark streets.  The crow overhead seeming to guide her movements as she continued her trek through the familiar yet darkened streets, she took care to avoid open windows.  She soon found herself once more at her front doorstep and opened it.  When she opened the door she paid no mind to the sound of a breaking door jam and shattering wood.  She slammed the door shut behind her and gazed at the now cobweb infested area she once called her boutique.  Somberly did she walk the darkened halls and discarded the clothes she wore until she wore nothing.  She stopped and took notice of a photo lying under a box; she plucked it from its nest and gazed at it.  It showed her with crossed arms and an unamused expression in her finest nightly attire for a night out and beside her, wearing a rocker t-shirt was Sweetie Belle.  Though she would have looked at the photo more, her head was soon split in absolute pain as a flash entered her vision.

“C’mon Rarity were going to be late!”

Rarity huffed, “I already said that I would take you to this…rock and roll band show so the least you could do is allow me time to look presentable.”

Sweetie Belle entered the room and snapped a photo, “SURPRISE!  Now I have proof that you’re going to a concert!”

Rarity rolled her eyes.

Rarity fell to the ground and writhed in agony.  She stood and rushed upstairs and threw open Sweetie Belles room door and fell on the floor.  Her sudden impact followed by silence was interrupted by the sound of rustling feathers and the feeling of something being deposited into her hand.  More visions flooded her head.

A unicorn stallion with a lime green coat wearing a choker and a leather trench coat smiled at Rarity, “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing here.”

Rarity snubbed him off, “No offense sir but you’re not my type, as the saying goes.”

The unicorn glared at Rarity.

Rarity stood and glanced at the concert ticket with her name on it clutched in her hand,  She held her head in agony a the visions returned.

The lime unicorn waved a bloody knife in front of her face, “Terror time missy.”

Laughs followed as a scream reached her ears.  She felt a stabbing pain enter her abdomen and she fell and saw red.

Rarity snapped out of her trance and found herself in her bedroom.  She screamed in rage and punched a nearby mirror shattering it into pieces.  No pain registered her as she glanced at her fist in absolute shock.  The nasty gashes and wounds bled slightly, but closed up and healed in a flash.  Rarity blinked and looked at herself in the cracked mirror.  She walked away from it and entered her shower.  She washed the rest of the filth and grime from her body and mane and walked out.  Her mane air dried as she went about her business of gathering whatever items she could find in Sweetie’s room and built a sort of shrine in front of her vanity stand.  The picture was placed upon the mirror as she ran a finger along it.  She narrowed her eyes as the vision of the stallion entered her mind once more.  She stood and walked to her closet.  She threw the doors open and searched through it until she found what she was looking for.  She pulled on a pair of black jeans and fastened them shut.  She then pulled on a long-sleeved black shirt that fit her form snugly.  She then grabbed a black leather corset that was in a box on the floor of her closet and tied it tight around her torso.  Her mane now dry fell in a slightly curly cascade.  She sat before her mirror and glanced over at the pile of pictures she managed to grab and raised an eyebrow, there was a picture of her and the girls at a carnival event and she was holding a mask with a black and white color scheme that resembled a drama mask.

She glanced at her mirror and pulled out some white face paint that she nabbed from Sweetie’s room and began to cover her face with it.  When that was finished she painted her nails black and then pulled out some black lipstick and eyeliner.  She first applied the lipstick to her lips then outlined her eyes in black giving them a more sinister and powerful presence.  She then popped the eyeliner pen and dragged it vertically down both her eyes.  When she was finished, a pair of pencil thick lines went vertically down from the top of her head and passed through her eyes ending just a few inches below her lower eye lids.  She then took the eyeliner pen and made one line come out from the corners of her mouth giving her a sort of sinister smile.  She then tied on a pair of black knee high heeled boots.

When she finished, Rarity stood up and walked to the highest window as the crow landed on her shoulder.  If anypony had been on the streets that night and bothered to look up at said window, they would have seen a pony that looked like a mime straight from the pits of Tartarus.

Chapter 2: Terror Time

Later that very same night a unicorn stallion simply known as Ace High was sitting in a bar having a casual drink with a few mares as they were practically crawling all over him.  He smiled in bliss as his lime green coat seemed to glow in the dim light.  His leather coat was draped over the back of the chair he was sitting in.  As he kissed one of the mares to his right he failed to notice a crow perched on the window sill outside.  The crow tilted its head slightly and then took flight.

Ace glanced at the mare to his right, “Hey babe.  You’re really lucky you found me when you did, it’s not every day you play tonsil hockey with a rock singer.”

The mare turned bright red and kissed him as the other pressed hard against his body and grinded.  The barman took notice and cleared his throat.

“Hey this isn’t a show mare house, take it outside.”

Ace snorted in anger and stood up, “Fine whatever, c’mon girls.  Let’s go for a ride.”

*

Rarity crouched upon a roof in Canterlot as she ran over the vision the crow had shown her of the stallion.  She grimaced in disgust and started to run across the rooftops, she smiled in exhilaration at the sudden rush she felt.  She was much faster than she used to be, her vision was sharper and her reflexes seemed to be honed beyond comprehension.  She cleared a sizable gap with ease and continued to run until she reached the area the Tavern was in.  She glanced down and saw it was a pretty large drop.  She shut her eyes and spread her arms out and fell forward.  The wind whipped past her with great speed and she found herself landing on her back.  She opened her eyes at feeling no pain and that she was still breathing.

“Whahahahah!”  Her usual laugh however seemed to be tinged with a hint of malicious glee.

Far down the alley near the tavern behind a dumpster, Ace emerged as the last mare hobbled off.  He straightened his coat and casually strolled out.  He stopped for a moment when he noticed the shape of a unicorn mare in the darkness.  He smiled and slicked his mane back but froze when he saw her body language.  It depicted aggressiveness and possible deadly intent.  He reached into his coat and felt the handle of his knife.

“Back off I’m armed,” the mare continued her advance, “I’m WARNING YOU!”

Rarity stepped into the light and leapt at him.  She effectively tackled him to the ground causing his knife to skitter away.  Ace went for a hay maker to Rarity’s jaw which she caught with ease; she then brought her other hand hard into his elbow at an angle.  A satisfying crack followed by a yell pierced the air.  Ace’s arm stuck out at an odd angle as he kneed Rarity in the stomach and managed to heave her off with his good arm.  He rushed to his knife only to be hit hard in the back with something hard and very solid.  He looked up and saw the mare with a crazed look in her eye brandishing a broken wooden plank.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”

The mare yelled back, “SOME CALRITY!”

She smacked the wood hard on his back once more and it broke apart.  Rarity advanced on the stallion and grabbed him by his coat and hurled him with amazing strength into the brick wall across the way.  Rarity then grabbed the knife off the ground and swooped down upon him and planted her forearm on his neck, the knife blade nestled at his diaphragm.

“Now I want answers,” Rarity’s eyes were cold and unmerciful, “Do you remember the first stop on your tour one year ago?”

A vision of him brandishing his knife to her flashed in her mind.

Ace was frantic and was struggling, “Yeah so what?”

Rarity gritted her teeth in rage, “Do you recall two mares, one old the other young and taking them backstage…murderer,” the last word was spoken with enough venom that it could be a lethal dose.

Ace looked down for a moment, “Two mares…wait a minute.”

Rarity smiled coldly, “Does the face of a mare in the background not register with you Ace?”

Ace looked at her in fear, “You?!  But I…killed you that night!”

Rarity then tilted her head and whispered in his ear, “And yet here I stand darling.”

She drove the knife into its home and planted her hands on Ace’s screaming face

Beside ace was a fiery red stallion with a short blond spiky mane wearing sunglasses and a leather vest that was a scathing white.  Beside him was a stallion wearing a modified straight jacket with a grey coat and bald with two toned eyes.  The next was a pair of twins.  Both had navy blue coats and was wearing black and white prison slacks, both had dyed their manes red and had piercing yellow eyes.

“The names of your bandmates,” she twisted the knife, “TELL THEM TO ME!”

Ace screamed and then raised his good hand, “The one wearing the strait jackets name is Mulls, the red stallion whose are drummer is named Poppa Fly, the twins names are Yin and Yang.  PLEASE LET ME GO!!”

Rarity stood up causing Ace to pull his knife out, blood spurted onto the ground.  Rarity gripped his jacket and ripped it off of him, “A jacket this fine does not belong on scum like you.”

Ace looked up at her, “Please don’t leave me here!  I need help.”

Rarity donned his jacket, “Yes you do, but unfortunately for you,” she picked up the pieces of broken wood, “It’s terror time Acey Wacey.”

Ace then screamed bloody murder as the dark mare descended upon him like an angel of death.

*

The following morning the two inspectors arrived at the alleyway, which was taped off.  Earl and Gleam entered and froze at the sight before them.  The stallion singer for ‘The Ash Bringers’ had by far seen better days; he was pinned to the solid brick wall by a pair of metal pipes in each of his palms.  The inspectors concluded that they must have come from some of the trash near the dumpster.  Driven into both of his lungs was a pair of wooden stakes.  And keeping his head upright and staring at the heavens via impalement, was a knife driven through his mouth and into the brick work.  Painted around his body in his own blood was the shape of some sort of bird.  Written on the ground in front of his body were the words, ‘Speak no evil’, in his blood.

Earl stifled a gag, “Who could’ve done this?”

Gleam shook her head, “Whoever it was must have the strength of twenty stallions.”

Earl shook his head as pictures were taken for filing in the report he would most likely fill out, “Well whoever did this isn’t going to escape royal justice, c’mon, we must inform the princesses of this development.”

As they turned to leave, Gleam glanced up and saw a black crow on the rooftop above caw then take flight.