The Bar, The Bat-Pony, and The Alienby Mr AnomalousChaptersChapter One: Rust, Machines, & StardustEntry No. 2: Extra-Terrestrial Beings are IntimidatingInterlude I: "So, About This Invader?"Chapter Three: Unwilling Flight (Revised)Chapter Four: Three Weeks LaterChapter One: Rust, Machines, & Stardust The unnecessarily long, crackling and really quite annoying buzz that signified the day's end finally sounded, a bit later than it should have according to the dusty clock on the wall. I looked over my shoulder to check the other clock - the alarm was late - and finished my load, sighing in annoyance while I heaved the chunk of rock from the ground onto the now-halted conveyor belt, leaving it there; It'd get finished tomorrow. I yawned and stretched, giving a groan of pleasure as several satisfying cracks run from the bottom of my spine up to my neck, subtracting some of the stiffness from my aching muscles. Today had actually been relatively easy, compared to other days, but it was still hard work nonetheless. I helped a few of my coworkers out from the gaping pit which I sat next to and slapped 'em on the back as they trotted away. I myself dawdled a bit to save myself the from the bustle of other workers that were undoubtedly flooding the hallways and locker rooms. I'd done this a hundred times, but each and every time I couldn't help but look at the large room in which I resided and explore it with my eyes. It was a big room. Several curved, steel supports stuck from the ground, hugged the wall, and anchored themselves in the ceiling, most of which was composed of dirty, yellow glass. I couldn't really tell through the windows because of that filth whether or not it was a nice day., but of course, up here there's never really a "nice day," far too much smoke and stuff for that. But there were warmer and colder days, so there's that. I even saw a bird every now and then. After I decided that I had waited long enough for the trickle of miners, smelters, masons and other industrial workers to stop, I got up off my haunches, brushed myself off, and set off toward the opening near the other side of the room. Several feet above my head, many, many sets of catwalks criss-crossed, leading to some of the more delicate workrooms such as specimen handling and geology and so on and so forth. Down on the ground floor, however, was where the hard work was done. Several different types of welders, TIG, MIG, Oxyacetylene, and whatnot lay scattered about, typically around half-finished projects. Toolboxes, forgotten hardhats, and empty bottles of soft drinks - no alcohol at work - also helped complete the collection of junk. The air smelled of burnt metal, steam, gasoline, and quite a bit of sweat, but I loved it anyway; it's the scent that's filled my nostrils every day for the past two years. I had to squint my eyes a bit as I finally reached the open double-doors that led into the brightly-lit hallway. Gah. Far too many lights in here. I ran into a few fellow stragglers such as myself along the way and gave them each a small nod of greeting. They all returned it. Unfortunately, when I first got here, not many of my "hellos" would be returned. I guess I kinda scared the ponies who already worked there. Ya see, I'm not an Earth Pony, a Pegasus, or a Unicorn - Luna knows not an Alicorn! - I'm actually a bit of an oddity, a, uh, "Bat-Pony." As you may have guessed, reptilian-eyes, leathery wings, and fangs didn't do me much good when it came to gaining other workers's trust. What did that was my actual work. Been Employee of the Month for the past year and a half. Yeppers, I'm good, helps cut down the work that the other's have to do. Funny, since all I ever do is haul various sized chunks of ore about a foot and a quarter from the opening of Mine No. 12 and onto the conveyor belt where they get wheeled off to get smelted and chiseled or crushed, among a whole host of other horrible possibilities. Since then, the only serious shit I get are from a few select racists - ignorant bastards - but most of the time I ignore them. They never go too far, first time they did one of 'em crawled away with a black eye and a busted leg. My handy-dandy fangs did a good number on 'is coat too. He didn't taste very good, though. Eventually, I made it to the locker room - cramped little place - and opened up my own creaky guardian of deodorant and spare socks. Quickly hanging up my hardhat, removing my working bridle, and unzipping my coveralls, I hucked everything inside and swung the beat-up locker door shut, making sure it was locked. Not sure why, nothin' really valuable in there. I punched my card and left the massive facility, entering the brightness of the sun. Like I said earlier, lotsa clouds and smoke, but today the sun seemed to smile down upon us. I scowled back. We Bat-Ponies aren't really nocturnal, as most cliches would state, but night is our natural element. I actually personally don't like the sun, even less so than most of my fellow fanged friends. As much as I would have liked to, I didn't simply go home, get a snack, and flop onto my bed, oh no, my day was only half over. Thirty-two past four, as my watch informed me. So I went home to one of three independent houses in the entire town. I was quite proud of it, it was rather pricey, so, rather than shabby old apartments, I got a shabby old cabin. I got to enjoy three whole rooms, dont'cha know? The snack was easy, I always set them out before I leave in the morning, so after I ate I entered my bathroom. I'm not really a bragger, fillies and gentlecolts, but I do indeed consider myself a pretty good Bat-Pony, and I don't exclude my looks either. As comes standard with bat ponies, I have a dark mane and tail, two shades of purple, one really dark and the other just a smidge lighter. My eyes weren't amber as with most Bat-Ponies, but rather a light violet, and my entire coat was dark - pure Bat-Pony here - so that's that. My cutie mark is interesting; it consists of two cogs, one of which is an amber metal, bronze 'er somethin', the other being made of some weird pink smoke, I guess? Rather than filthy coveralls, and rather than, well, nothing, I slipped on the, uh, kinda scant uniform for my next job - a bit drafty - drank something with lots of caffeine and headed outside. My place was a bit secluded - classic Bat-Pony behavior - on top 'o a hill outside of the main town. I could see the massive mine/factory/lab/whatever jutting from a mountain, the mass of rusted metal and glass down below me, the town not much further off to the left. Much less a "town" and more a "village" but whatever, I called this place home. Just as I had waited back in the mine hundreds of times before, I had my the trip from home to bar hundreds of times before, so I didn't take me long at all. My second workplace was on the right side of the end of the main strip, kinda Appleoosian style town we got here, a large building with a sign reading "Luna's Palace" swinging outside the door. Every time I see that sign, I can't help but scoff. Luna's Palace was far more splendid than this bar ever would be. Yes, by the way, Luna does indeed have her own palace. For some reason, lotsa ponies are pretty surprised to learn about that. Whatever, despite the fact that the real Luna's Palace was something that this bar'd never touch, "this bar" was probably the nicest, cleanest building for miles. It most certainly got the most business, that's for sure. Whores, alcohol, games, attractive waiters - that's me - and the available purchase of temporary living space and of mining gear made this the hub 'o the town. I've been griping so far, but truth be told I liked it there. Pays less than my first job, but was also really fun; I got lotsa tips 'cuz I'm "exotic" or something or other, and It's pretty fun seein' stallions get all flustered at'cha when you blow 'em a kiss and playfully bare your fangs at 'em. Employee of the Month every month for the past while there too, if I do say so myself. Once I had double-checked my uniform I entered the bar, preparin' myself for a busy night. Never happened. As I entered, the place was about a million and a half times more quieter and less smellier than I ever remember it ever being. There were still lots of ponies there, but rather than laughing happily, singing songs and getting into hoof-fights, everyone inside was huddled to their own tables, quietly playing poker or whatever else struck their fancy, murmuring. It was still tumultuous, mind you, just not near as much as before. I was also a bit confused when I didn't see any other waiters. Hmm...what's goin' on here? A bit disconcerted, I stepped inside all of the way and the bartender gave me a glance. That was it. No hello or nothin'. I decided to try and ignore it and weaved through the tables full of muttering stallions, eventually makin' it to the dressing room. Ah. There they are. I saw six other mares, all dressed in their uniforms, huddled in the corner, whispered to each other in hushed tones. "Hey gals, what's up?" They all turned to me, looking a bit surprised at my arrival, and one of them, Bright Flare, motioned me over. I raised my eyebrow and trotted over the hard floor, looking at the tan-coated mare who had motioned me over in the fist place. "Should we tell her?" another mare, Viola, asked the group. There was few words of agreement and Flare looked at me. She smiled and said, "Sorry about what's been going on, I'll show you here in a second. Come with me." I smiled back. Someone who wasn't in some sort of trance, hooray! She led me back out into the main room and sat me down at the bar. Again, the bartender eyed me, but didn't say anything as he dried a large mug. "What's his problem?" I asked Flare. "Same problem as everyone else," Flare answered. "And what would that be?" Flare's bright orange eyes began to twitch a bit and she got visibly more nervous. "Come on..." I groaned, a bit louder than intended. After waiting for the attention of the bar-goers to wane, I leaned and and whined, saying "Tell meeeee." Flare gulped and jerked her head to the right, toward a dark corner. I followed her gesture with my eyes and gasped when I finally saw what she had been talking about. "W...wha...is he...?" Flare nodded, her eyes wide with seriousness. "Is he...?" Again, Flare nodded. "Woah." I looked over back at the parlor where "he" was sitting, alone. The figure, even sitting down, was tall. I couldn't see much of his body, most of that problem stemming from the fact that he wore a long, dark, beat-up trench coat. What was visible though was pretty impressive. Rather then grasping the mug of steaming liquid - coffee, I assumed - between two front hooves, he held the cup with some sort of claw. He was wearing fingerless gloves, exposing the tips of his claws and showing them as they really were; fleshy and kinda gross appendages. No talons or tentacles. His other foreleg, arm, whatever, was resting on the table, a small, closed book under its claw, and on top of his head was an old, dusty fedora with a bit of an oversized feather messily protruding from it. On the table lay some sort of contraption, not sure what it was. From that far away, only being able to see the side of his face, I couldn't tell you much more about that area. The bottom of his face was covered in some sort of mask, at least I thought it was a mask. Several tubes, a couple larger ones and a few smaller ones, stuck out the bottom of the leather and all went to somewhere inside of his cloak. "Why's he wearin' that mask?" I leaned over and asked Flare. She only shook her head. She didn't know. That, if my eyes weren't lying to me, that is, was "The Alien." Ponies also called him "'Ole Deadeye." He, as far as I knew, was some sort of monkey-like, albeit bigger and smarter, alien that had entered our world from a rift leading from his about three years ago. It took him a while, but he eventually convinced the Princesses that he could be trusted and he was given permission to roam Equestria as he pleased. Not much had been seen of him; he was really quite the hermit. I already was a pretty big hermit myself, but I could still understand. Having to leave your world for entire new one must be tough. I sat and looked at him for a bit more when something hit me. "Flare...has anyone taken his order yet?" The brightly-colored mare, instead of answering, looked to the ground and hid behind her curly blonde mane, her teal eyes avoiding my gaze. After a few moments of silence, she whispered, "Not really. Frosty gave him a mug of coffee when he walked in, on the house, I guess, and that's about it." I sighed. He may have been an alien, but there was no rule that stated that aliens could not be served here. I said this to Flare, but she only shrugged. I sighed again. "Gah, fine, I'll go do it." Flare's head straightened up and her eyes widened with concern. "Are you sure, Crimson?" I nodded. "Yeah, I mean, why not? I'm pretty sure he's safe..." "What about that burglar a while back?" "Oh...that..." Ya see, a while back, when 'Old Deadeye had first arrived, Celestia and Luna had given him some accommodations in the city, an old house, after they had judged him responsible and harmless enough to be let out of their site. Well, a few days later, a burglar, completely unaware of the building's resident, broke in. It was bad. 'Ole Deadeye was rumored to have broke his neck, chopped him into pieces, and eaten the corpse. 'Course, that was probably not true, but one had to wonder... "Well, Flare, I'm not a burglar, I'm a waitress, and this stallion or whatever he is obviously wants something to drink. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take his order." I looked at the bartender, Frosty Brew, by the way, and he nodded encouragingly, his smile just creeping from under his big, bushy brown mustache and his bald head shining a bit in the light. I shrugged and dismounted my stool. I began to walk over to the parlor where the alien sat, sipping his coffee through a tube stuck in his mask, pride in my step. I must admit, though, I was being a bit over-courageous over there, so I began to falter and stumble a bit as I got closer. What if he did eat ponies? Maybe he somehow went crazy over the years of loneliness and is waiting for some cute waitress to come near him so he can- I shook my head. "Come on, Crimson, you're being ridiculous," I scolded myself. I continued, sweating a bit, and finally reached the creature's table. He didn't look at me. "Uh...um...hello? May I...may I take your order?" Suddenly, he turned to face me and I had to bit my tongue to keep from gasping. He'd earned his nickname well. His left eye was indeed dead, white as a marble it was. In fact, his other eye seemed a bit dim, too... His face, at least what I could see of it though was surprisingly smooth. The only scar was that across his eye and what little I could see of his mane stuck out from the sides of his hat; it was a dark brownish color. His eye, the good one, kinda surprised me. It was a really pretty blue, even if it were a bit dim. Then he spoke. I had to bite my tongue even harder that time. That mask did something to his voice besides muffle it, that's for sure. His tone was deep, mechanical and...for lack of a better word, gargly. "Ah. So this place does serve its customers. I was beginning to beleive otherwise..." I gulped and said in a halting voice, "Um, yeah, sorry about that. It seems that I'm the only one who was brave enough to come near ya, and I'm...a bit late...." Despite the fact that he was wearing that mask of his, I could tell that he was smiling by looking at his eyes. "I'm just kidding; I understand. Not every day that you get an alien at your restaurant, eh?" "N-n-no, sir." He chuckled heavily. "Well, I never got a menu, but I'm going to assume that you have fish and chips?" I nodded. "Vodka?' Another timid nod from me. "I'll have the fish and chips, large please, but not the vodka; I don't drink alcohol." What? "Just another coffee will be fine, thank you." He hoofed me his mug and I took it. He hadn't stricken me as evil, so I manged not to scamper away like a little filly when I walked away. I let out a relieved breath when I reached the bar. "Frosty, he wants a large fish 'n chips and another coffee." The large stallion grunted happily and got to work. I turned to Flare who was looking at me in wonder. "And that's how ya do it," I said, smugly. It took a while but eventually everyone grew used to the presence of 'Ole Deadeye and the noise slowly increased. The other waitresses eventually mare'd up and abandoned the dressing room in favor of the drinks and noise outside. Frosty apologized to me about his behavior earlier, explaining that he no idea if anything he might have said would offend his unique guest. Bit of a weird precaution, I guess, but it made sense. So the night dragged on and on. Deadeye never ordered anything else, but neither did he leave, instead opting to take notes or something in the little book that had previously been under his claw. In a kind of creepy fashion, however, he followed me out when my shift ended, startling a bit of the patrons. When we were outside, he said to me, "I never got your name." "Bloom. Crimson Bloom." The alien chuckled. "What?" "I have been here for three years and I never think I'll get used to these ponies and their names." I chuckled myself at that, then I said, "Hey, speaking of names...?" "Well, here I guess I get called 'Ole Deadeye, The Alien, or Freak." "D'ya have a real name?" "Yep. Can I walk you home?" "Erm, well, I live pretty far out..." "I promise that I won't eat you. It's just you are literally the fifth pony, Bat or not, ever to speak to me without me talking first. It's enjoyable. I hope you do not mind if I make friends with you, Miss Bloom?" "Uh, no, I guess not, and call me Crimson." I inwardly shrugged and we set forth. If he did end up trying anything on the way home in the dead of night I told myself that I could take him. After a while, I asked him, "Wait, I'm only the fifth?" "Yes." "Really? Wow, I thought that we ponies were a lot nicer." Deadeye chuckled. "I thought so too, the Princesses and most of the Elements were nice enough, but that's where it ended." "That's too bad." "Indeed." After a bit more silence, I began to feel awkward. Do aliens get awkward? I had literally millions of questions, but I had no idea whether any of them were offensive or something. "I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable, Crimson, but the fault is yours if you cannot bring up a topic of conversation, seeing as I know next to nothing about Equestria as a whole," Deadeye said abruptly. "Well...uh...why do you talk like that?" "Like how?" "All...intelligent-like and stuff.." Deadeye chuckled and answered, saying, "Well, back on Earth, I was a scientist. Still am I suppose. The education made it so, I would beleive." "Oh? What did you study?" "Weapon systems." "Weapon 'systems?'" "Affirmative. CTCAMs, Orbital Fuel Rod Cannons and the like." "I have no idea what any of that means. I take it that you're quite an advanced race, compared to us." He shrugged. "Yes, I suppose...but we don't have magic." "Woah, really?" "Indeed." "How do you...how do you live?" "When I was on Earth, mostly through rapidly depleting fossil fuels." "Alright then, why are you wearing that mask?" "Well, on Earth, at least where I was, the pollution was high enough to the point at which it was toxic to all of those who inhaled it." "Wow...but that was on Earth. We're not on Earth." "Interesting observation, but guess what? The air here is toxic to me as well; to much carbon dioxide." "Does it ever get uncomfortable?" Deadeye gave and amused snort. "Well, no, not really, considering I haven't taken it off since I've been here." "You sore?" "Was. I'm not sure when I say this, but I beleive that the edges of the mask are beginning to become grafted to my flesh." "Eww." "Indeed." "..." "Is this your house?" "Oh, yeah, it is." The alien hurried forward and opened the door for me. I smiled at him and walked inside. "Well, thanks for being willing to come into contact with me, Crimson, I'm glad you did." I smiled. "No problem. Thanks for walking me home. I'll see you...?" "I don't know, perhaps tomorrow. I'm kind of exploring around here, feel free to interrupt my work to say hello if you see me." I nodded. "I will. Goodnight...Deadeye?" as soon as that sentence left my mouth I clamped my hoof over my muzzle. My face began to feel quite hot. "Deadeye" snorted bemusedly. "Call me Doctor Alexia." "Uh, okay, night then, Doctor Alexia." He nodded and turned away toward the gleaming lights in the distance. I shut the door behind me and looked at my kitchen. I had just made friends with an alien. Sweet. Entry No. 2: Extra-Terrestrial Beings are Intimidating Things were quite interesting for me today, quite interesting indeed. You see, I don't mean to brag when I say this, but I am skilled. In what? Again, I don't mean to brag, but, quite frankly, in everything. I know a good 76.2% of every computer programming language on Earth, and know just as much, if not more, about the hardware in a computer. Mathematics, unfortunately, aren't really my strong point, but I know enough to make complex calculations and create algorithms relatively quickly. When it comes to defending myself, I'll admit that I lack there as well. I do know how to fire, reload, clean, ect cetera, ect cetera, my weapon - a customized MK 17 Mod, also know as the FN SCAR-H - and I do know how to take care of and use my blade when needed, but I may as well just jump off a cliff when it comes to much else. Oh, what's custom about my weapon, you ask? Not much. Except it fires .505 caliber rounds. Fully automatic. I must admit, it took me a while to get used to the kick myself. Drat, I've been getting off task. Perhaps I was bragging a little...? Continuing onward, I am skilled in quite a bit of things, navigating and geography included, so...it really did not take me long to travel the entire residential areas of Equestria. And, I must say, it's quite boring. I suppose there's plenty of tall buildings and such, but my they are nothing compared to my home planet's. We, I kid you not, were able to have over 3,000 people in one square mile and have them all fed and comfortable simultaneously. And the native civilizations? Intriguing, something new to learn about, but if there's one thing I've learned during all of my years, it's to accept reality, and this reality did not keep me interested. The astounding cultural similarities didn't help much, either. So, soon, I found myself wanting to go elsewhere, thus I brought the inquiry of such places to Princess Celestia. She told me of an industrial part of Equestria that's not too entirely popular far up North, eastward across neutral land, and then south again, into some dark rocks. Why not? Sounded like Earth to me. Due to some mistrusting ponies - as well as a few overly interested ponies - the trip was slower than I would have preferred but, two years, ten months, and twenty-two days after I came to Equis I arrived at an outpost where, unfortunately, a group of Stalliongradi miners attempted my life. You see, Stalliongrad is another example of a cultural parallel, this time of the old Soviet Union. Equestria news did not travel across into their land, so they must have took me for some demon or such. Negotiations were useless, and I was forced to kill them. Waste of ammunition. As is so happens, I made a rather severe miscalculation and had entered Stalliongrad. After reading a rather blood-soaked map in the small bunker, I gauged my distance and found that I had to travel a mile or so back west and then seventy-two further southward. I did it in a two days. Though my life was not attempted again, I did not feel too welcome. It was early in the morning when I first reached the town, four o' clock if I remember correctly - and I often do. The industrial building was indeed very impressive, but that was not what I was interested. What was I interested in then? Coffee. And lots of it. Coffee, my reader, is the very liquid by which I live, by which I thrive. Without it, I am not sure how I would survive. I kind of forced my way into the bar and woke the Bartender and two waitresses - in-house workers, I assume as I did so. I didn't speak, only jabbed at the coffee with my finger. The bartender, if that is who it was, complied and brought me a mug full off it. Pure Black. Success. By now the bar was just about to open, and I was content to spend my day there, drinking free coffee - free or else - and observing the ponies around me. I, unfortunately, ran into one of the "mistrusting" ponies later that day, around lunchtime. "Hey! You!" I attempted to ignore the creature, as I did all ponies, but it ended up in vain. "Freak!" I sighed and answered without looking behind me, "I do not respond to insults." "I don't care, you'll respond to me!" I didn't. Eventually, he became reckless and approached my at my table. "You, monster! I won't have you in my town!" "The will?" He opened his mouth to retort, but was caught up. "Wait, what?" "Your town. I wish to see the will that proves your ownership." "Bah! I don't have no will on me!" I finally gave him the luxury of my full attention and he backed away, his ears flattening a bit. He looked younger, his eyes a light blue and his coat a very light tan, his mane a tail a light shade of beige. His Cutie Mark consisted of nothing but a red-hot blacksmith's hammer. "Then this is not your town, and you do not have that authority. Leave me be, please." He wouldn't. I usually posses quite a stockpile of patience in my reserves, but today the reserve was not open to me, it would seem. After a bit more ignored insults, he finally did something unforgivable: knocked over my coffee. On purpose. "Sir, let me tell you what you just did. I, an alien whom you know nothing of, of my restraints, my strengths, my abilities, my beliefs, my weapons, have been traveling for days on end to get here thanks to ponies just like you who refused me a space on their trains, vehicles or other modes of transportation, and you just knocked over my coffee. Coffee, dear sir, is what I live off of. I've already killed seven Stalliongradi miners who crossed me, and you have jumped to the top of my 'hurt very severely' list. What do you have to say for yourself?" He faltered, looking rather frightened at this point, but pushed onward regardless. "Uh...ye-yer lying. About the Stalliongradis..." "Am I now?" "Yeah, you are. You couldn't have killed 'em." I looked at my coffee-stained lap and sighed. I looked back at my assailant, who stared unconvincingly back at me, daring me to retort. I did. Physically. Did you know that lower legs are quite soft when you fire a rifle round into them, especially one of my size, point blank? I knew that too, but that's not what I did. I restrained myself, and he only stalked away with a broken jaw. Unfortunately. Nearer to the end of the day, after a few mugs of the nectar of the gods, something entered that caught my interests. Never in my three years in Equestria have I witnessed a creature such as what entered at that time. It was a Pegasus, but rather than feathered wings, they were black, leathery, like a bat's. Her eyes, which were concerned at the time, were a purple color, and reptilian. Her ears were poofy. She was adorable. She entered what I could only assume was the waitresses preparing room without noticing me. Soon, she reappeared with one of the in-house waitresses whom of which sat her down at the bar and began to speak to her. Very soon, her attention was drawn to me. I made it look as if I hadn't noticed, but I did. Soon, she approached me and haltingly asked for my order. Brave little thing. Anyway, she's probably told you herself, so I won't waste your time. Point is: I have myself a Bat-Pony friend. Hooray for Doctor Alexias, I suppose. After dropping my new friend, Crimson Bloom's her name, off at her home outside of town, I quickly traveled back down to the bar where I purchased a few nights in the owner's best room. Or made him give it to me, either way, I was going to get to sleep there. I was going to give him compensation later, I swear it! Anyway, stomach full of coffee, I entered the room and stripped my gear. Despite what I had told Crimson earlier, my mask had indeed come off my face before, as it did then. Only for a few seconds though, otherwise I would have passed out rather quickly. I Qwik-Powdered my clothes, thus cleaning them, and climbed into my bed, eventually drifting into a deep sleep, despite the bed's, uh, smaller size. As it so happened, around midnight, I was awoken by a small creaking noise. Ah, someone had entered my room. And judging by their failed attempt at stealth, they did not want to awake me. Option A being because it was a maid of some sort, tidying up the room, or, more likely Option B: they wished to physically harm me. "Bit of advice, friend; whilst attempting to kill someone in their sleep, don't wake them up." I heard not one but three quite gasps of surprise and I flicked on my bedside lamp. As suspected, three ponies, all stallions, one of which had his lower jaw bandaged - wonder why - all stood in my room. All of them were Earth Ponies, so I needn't have worried about magic or wings, but one solid hit from any of them and I would more than likely be done for. "Oh? Is that a knife I see there?" One of the ponies, a dim gray stallion with a light blue mane and tail, took a step back, attempting to hide his weapon. "Dear sirs, you, if my eyes do not deceive me and my mind knows what it does, just made an attempt on my life. According to Equestrian law, even out here, I now have the right to kill you in retaliation. All three of their eyes widened, and then steeled in determination, but I was faster. With one round fired, the knife-brandishing stallion fell to the floor, a fountain of blood where his head used to be, dirtying the decorative wallpaper and the rug on the floor. The other, a dark brown pony with a black mane and tail, attempted to flee, but it was an amusingly futile attempt, as the hole in the door and the distant spat of gore on the main floor below told me. That left the original pony, the who had confronted me in the bar. He seemed frozen with fear - rightfully so - and backed into a corner, sweating and emptying his bladder as he did so. "You're one of those kinds of beings, aren't you? You know, the ones who don't deserve a place in existence?" The stallion's eyes widened even further and he began to shake his head, attempting to speak. "I'm sorry, dear sir, but it seems that your jaw has been broken. Wonder how that happened...?" Interlude I: "So, About This Invader?" Red Anvil lay on his couch inside of his run-down living room, watching some old films. He was a standard-brown colored pony with a darker mane and tail. His cutie mark was, as his name suggested, an anvil that glowed bright-red with heat. Red's eye twitched as he felt a sharp pain go up his leg again, and he looked down at it. It was heavily bandaged and hurting like Tartarus. Having the arm of a machine malfunction and come crashing down upon your leg ain't very fun, is it? After the pain subsided, the stallion sighed heavily, signifying his crushing boredom. He loved his job, and, without being able to hardly move on his own, work was out of the question. He had been stuck inside of his house, watching old films and reading old books for weeks now, and he was just about to go crazy. He wasn't lonely, even though he was still single at the ripe old age of forty-two, because his nephew had managed to get a small bit of time cut from his work so that he could get home earlier. Red looked up at the cracked clock on the wall and smiled; he would be home any minute now. The blacksmith returned his attention to the projection on his cracked wall, only to have it drawn back mere seconds later as his nephew entered the house and brushed himself off. "Hey! Welcome home, Stone!" Gray stone, who's colors and indeed his cutie mark matched his name, smiled back at his injured uncle. "Thanks. I've got something pretty interesting to tell you about today," he said as he set down the paper bag he was carrying and withdrew two bottles of alcohol. "Something interesting? In this place? Don't lie," Red said, chuckling. "That's the thing, not only is it interesting, but really quite astonishing." "Oh?" Red answered, watching as his nephew circled around the couch and sat on a sofa opposite of his uncle. He shielded his eyes and complained, saying, "Ugh, Red, turn that thing off." Red Anvil craned around and switched off the projector, after which he gestured for his bottle. Stone hoofed him the vodka and opened his own beer. After a quaff, he leaned forward in his chair. "You ever hear about The Alien?" Red thought for a second, "Uh, yeah. In't he that creature that came here a while ago? Never really believed it..." Stone smirked a bit. "Well you better beleive it, 'cuz he's here." Red frowned, "Boy, don't joke with me. How is that possible?" Stone leaned back in his comfy chair, saying, "Not sure. I saw him at the bar when I was picking up our drinks." "Really?" "Yup." "What...what's 'e look like?" "Well, he's pretty tall, even when he sat down. Kinda looked like a clothed, hairless monkey. Didn't really see much of him; he was wearin' all these clothes and armor and shit. He wore this mask that covered the lower half of his face, too," Stone reported, covering his face with his foreleg for added visuals. Red frowned again. "How'd he...eat?" "Now that was interesting to see. That mask I just told ya about?" Red nodded. "It's got a buncha tubes runnin' from it and all over in his coat. What he did was detach one, cut up his food with a knife and then-," Stone stopped to chuckle at his memories, "he...well, he, like vacuumed up the bits." "No." "Hehe, yep." "Drink?" "Just stuck 'is straw un'er his mask." "What was he drinking?" "Coffee, I think." Red was quite for a moment. He eventually broke the silence, saying, "Stone, if yer makin' this up, you did a good job...'e dangerous?" Stone winced after his uncle finished his sentence. "What?" Red inquired, interest peaked. "Um...yeah...you know that asshole, uh...gah, what's his name...? That annoying bastard with a hammer for a cutie mark?" "Ah, that'd be Git." Stone snorted, "Really? Damn accurate name." Red nodded, "Yeah. Anyway, what about 'im?" Stone began to laugh. "You're never gonna beleive this, but 'Git' walked right up to this alien and started insulting him." Red leaned forward and spat out mouthful of vodka. "Really? What happened?" Stone smiled at this uncle. "He broke his jaw." The both of them burst out laughing, a sense of justice flowing through their veins. When they finished, Red shook his head. "Well, what's gonna happen next, ya think?" Gray Stone only shrugged. "I got no idea, Red." Chapter Three: Unwilling Flight (Revised) Around four-thirty in the morning, I was torn from my sleep like some stray piece of paper caught in a tornado by a high-pitched and extremely irritating clanging to the side of my bed. Groaning, I turned over and heavily swung, missing the blaring alarm clock and pounding the table in its stead. It took a few more tries, but I eventually shut if off. For a while, I sat there in bed, gathering the energy necessary to drag myself out of the warm, comfortable, fluffy bed of mine while trying not to fall asleep at the same time. Then everything came rushing back to me. The Alien, our meeting, the walk home, everything. Laying there in bed, I scoffed a bit. Did it all really happen? Had I actually made friends with an alien? Pretty crazy to think about. Finally, after killing my thoughts about my newest acquaintance and groaning once more, I sat up and swung my lower legs over the side of the bed, where the came to a rest on the dirty, circular rug that my bed sat upon. I sighed and did my morning ligament-cracking - spine, neck, legs - and finally managed to crawl out of bed. I took a quick, cold shower to wake up and quickly brushed my teeth and mane. And, beleive it or not, I wear makeup. Not too much, mind you, but it's there. I know I'm pathetic, but even a super-awesome Bat-Pony such as myself has to look pretty every now and then. So, I had to apply that, drinking a Red Minotaur for breakfast, I exited my home to a simultaneously cold and warm climate. It's hard to explain, but it's true. As I approached my first workplace, I couldn't help but noticed the lack of noise. Usually, seeping from a few open and/or cracked windows, you can hear talking and the buzzing of machines starting up and whatnot, but not today. I frowned at the oddity and only shrugged as I pushed open the door. No one in the entry halls either. However, there was someone at the front desk, as the shuffling noises around under the desk gave away. "Yo Rust!" "Что вы хотите, Малиновый?" "Equestrian, Rust. You escaped, remember?" "Huh-?" There was a loud thud and some clanking as, I assume, Rust went to stand up but hit his head on the underside of the metal table, spilling tools all over the place. "Гах! Celestia гребаный черт побери!" I chuckled to myself. After a few moments of silence, I raised my voice. "You alive?" "Pah! Barely," came the heavily-accented response. Lemme tell ya, when you first meet Rust - real name being Anton Kaffrov, "Rust" being just a nickname - he. Is. Terrifying. He's a good six-and-a-half hooves tall, just as long, and pretty muscled up. His gray-colored coat, darker mane and tail, and an ever-present shade on his chin give him a pretty roughed-up look help with his intimidation. His stories from Stalliongrad make ya shiver, too. He was forced to fight, at the age of thirteen, in that big 'ole war that's still going on with Germaney. Got a bunch of scars all over from it. Crazy-ass Adolf Bitler... His voice though...deep, rolling, and heavily accented is the scariest part. But, after you meet him, turns out that he's really just a big teddy bear. 'Course, didn't seem like that then, but getting smashed in the head by a metal table would put anyone in a foul mood. After a few more moments of silence and me trying to fight down my amusement, I spoke up again, saying, "Well, seeing as you are indeed alive and fully-functioning, I have a question to ask you." The large stallion peeked over the table and began to look around, confused, until his eyes fell on me. Ah. He lives. "And that would be?" he asked, in an urging tone. "Where the hell is everyone?" "Ah, interesting bit of info, that." he responded, "Know that alien that recently came into town?" I nodded. "Well, he murdered three stallions last night." My pupils jumped from standard size to dinner plates in about a millisecond. "Wait-what-waddaya mean?" "That's what I heard at least. Everyone's gone to lynch him. If you want to go join the party, go right ahead, I guess. I have some work to do anyway..." If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. I bounded outside of the building, jumped, and opened up my wings, letting the wind catch them and drag me high into the sky. Gliding forward and closer to the town, my gut froze as I saw a large pillar of fire engulfing what I assumed to be the bar that I worked at. Well, used to. In the middle of the street, the entire town - which really wasn't that much - was shouting and throwing rocks and other things at the burning building. I landed a few feet outside of the crowd, stirring up dust from the dirt road, and just sat for a while, staring all wide-eyed at the whole scene., my wings drooping. No one, not even a technologically advanced alien such as Doctor Alexias could survive such a fire. Again, I took off, this time toward my distant home. It was obvious that I wasn't going to have to report to either job today. I sat at my kitchen table, a cocktail of Red Minotaur and Appleshine clenched in my hoof, staring at the table, my mind blank. I had literally known that thing, that alien for only a few hours. We didn't find out really all that much about either of each other either, and yet there I was, sitting here in a zombie-like state. Why? I wasn't in love with him or anything - promised myself that would never happen again - and I had had much better friends, both in the past and then. Why did I feel so sad? If he had really murdered three stallions, then he got what he deserved. But no, Doctor Alexias wouldn't murder anyone... And how could be I so sure? He was an alien. I just shook my head and stood up. Shit happens. It'd all get figured out soon, and then we, myself included, could all get on with our merry lives. With this thought in my head and a half-empty glass on the table, I returned to bed, already emotionally drained in the one hour that I had been awake. I don't know what time it was, how much later it happened, or whatever, but after I had been asleep for a while, I was awoken by three heavy thuds. Already wide awake, I got out of bed and strained my ears, listening for the noise again. A few seconds later, it happened again, startling me. In a quick succession, faster than the last, three thuds sounded. Ah. My door. Duh. I shook my head, internally scolding myself. Maybe everything got sorted out and they need me down at the mine, I thought. I tried to keep Alexias out of my mind and went to the door. "Alright, Rust, ya found me, jus' lemme..." I opened the creaky, wooden entrance to my humble abode, expecting to see Rust come to get me and maybe tell me what happened. That's not what I got. "Hello, Crimson, would you like to go on and adventure?" It was Alexias. Doctor Alexias. 'Ole Deadeye. The Alien. I don't know what came over me - probably put on too much makeup that mornin' - but I squeed in excitement and threw myself into his surprised arms. "Well, I never knew myself to make such a lasting impression on anyone, but I guess I swayed you." Blinking away tears, and flushing with embarrassment as I realized what I was doing, I scrambled from his arms. "Nevermind, then..." As I sat there, I noticed that it was really rather quite bright for such a time at night. There seemed to be kind of a bright, orange light behind the Alien. "Deadeye, I mean, Alexias, what the hell is going on? What happened? Is the bar alright? Are you alright?" The Alien's upper body puffed up a bit as he took a deep breath and let it loose in a massive sigh. "Well, does this answer your question?" Alexias took a step to the side and I had to rub my eyes to make sure I saw what I saw. The entire town. All of it. It was on fire. That was the glow. Several columns of flames lept up from the buildings, licking the sky and loosing great, billowing pillars of smoke. Off in the distance, several ponies were shouting, trying to kill the flames. It took me a while, but I eventually got something out, "Guh-uh-wha-didja...? What the buck!? Did you do this??" "Yes, but, to repeat my first question, would you like to go on an adventure?" "What? No! What the hell is wrong with you?" "Huh, that's funny, I don't recall giving you a choice. Well, I did, actually, but you don't have a choice." "What? Rust, Frosty, someone, help me!" "Now, now, Crimson, calm down." "You seriously want me to calm down!? My town is burning, you murdered three stallions, came up here to ask me if I wanted to go 'an adventure' and then tell me to calm down?? And to think, I almost cried when I thought you were dead!" "That's all very touching, but I fail to see your point." "Gah! HELP!" "You are irritating me, Crimson." "What!?" Through his mask, Alexias gave me a deadpan look that lasted several seconds. After that, he simply clonked me over the head with a frying pan that I hadn't noticed before. And then everything was black. For the third time in recent history, I awoke. This time, rather than inside my home, on my bed, I was somewhere else. Judging from the cramped amount of space that I had and the texture of the cloth rubbing against me, in a burlap sack. The ground was hard, and it was significantly colder than I last remembered. Then, as it had this morning, everything came flooding back. This time, with my abduction. "Alexias! You motherbucker, where are you!?" "Watch it! You'll roll into the fire!" I froze. Fire? Not fire... "Gyaaaaahh!" I tore open the bag and scooted away as fast as I can, breathing heavily, my two eyes fixed on the small but still firey fire not six feet from my current position. "Not a big fan of fire?" 'Ole Deadeye was sitting, cross-legged, in the circle of light and warmth that the flames provided. Behind him, the sky was dark, a massive moon shining brightly above him, surrounded by clouds. It was snowing, heavily. "Where the buck are we, Alexias?" "Just outside of Potevka, Stalliongrad." "What? Why??" Doctor Alexias only sighed. "Now is more than likely the wisest of times to tell you exactly what is going on." "Ya think?" My sarcasm flying over his head like an arrow, he nodded earnestly. "Well, my dear Crimson, it started after I got back to the bar - never bothered to learn it's name - and, er, purchased a few nights in a room. I don't know if you heard of it, but earlier I was approached by a very nasty stallion. He started insulting me, which, in all honesty, is something that I can stand. It has been happening to me my entire life. But...but he spilled my coffee..." I could have sworn that I saw a tear. "But not matter, that was the last straw." My eyes widened. "You didn't. . .you didn't kill him, did you?" "What? No, of course, not. I wanted to, but that would have been highly illegal. No, he crawled away with a broken jaw. A half an hour or so later, you came in and you know everything up until I 'bought' my stay-" "Why did you say it like that?" "Pardon?" "You said' bought' all sarcastic like." "No I didn't, continuing forward, I went to spend the night in that room, but, well, my life was attempted." "What? Really?" "Affirmative. The stallion who's jaw I broke two of his friends, I assume. All three of them were dead in less than thirty seconds." Again, my eyes widened, "What? Are you sure they were trying to kill you??" "Well, considering there were three of them, that they crept into my room in the dead of night, and one of them had a rather large butcher knife on his body, then yes, I beleive that my judgment was sound." "Woah..." I whispered. That was crazy, "What happened next?" I asked him. "Well, the bar's owner, Frosty, I beleive you called him, came blundering up and didn't bother to ask me what happened, instead assuming that I "pony"napped the lot and brought them up to my room to murder. Despite the fact that I had killed them rather loudly and bloodily, and that in doing so in such a fashion I gave away their deaths, and that if I wanted to kill them stealthily, oh, ho, they would have been killed stealthily! But all that's aside the point. I had to barricade myself in and had to not kill any of the other ponies. It took quite a long time for me to escape. . ." I sat, processing all of this. If it was all really true, than he was innocent. But. . . "But how does that justify you lighting my entire town on fire??" "Well, I didn't do it-" "But you said-" "Ah, ah, I didn't do it myself, but I caused it. You really need to find a less psychotic lot to spend your time with." I gave him a deadpan look, much as he gave me when just before he knocked me unconscious. As if on cue, that particular part of my head sent a shard of pain down my skull. I reached up and rubbed it furiously. "Owwwww....why did you have to take me??" "Because, you're my friend." I groaned the biggest groan I've ever groaned and simply fell onto my side, not caring that the side of my face was in the snow. This was going to be interesting, to say the least. Chapter Four: Three Weeks LaterSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
Chapter One: Rust, Machines, & Stardust The unnecessarily long, crackling and really quite annoying buzz that signified the day's end finally sounded, a bit later than it should have according to the dusty clock on the wall. I looked over my shoulder to check the other clock - the alarm was late - and finished my load, sighing in annoyance while I heaved the chunk of rock from the ground onto the now-halted conveyor belt, leaving it there; It'd get finished tomorrow. I yawned and stretched, giving a groan of pleasure as several satisfying cracks run from the bottom of my spine up to my neck, subtracting some of the stiffness from my aching muscles. Today had actually been relatively easy, compared to other days, but it was still hard work nonetheless. I helped a few of my coworkers out from the gaping pit which I sat next to and slapped 'em on the back as they trotted away. I myself dawdled a bit to save myself the from the bustle of other workers that were undoubtedly flooding the hallways and locker rooms. I'd done this a hundred times, but each and every time I couldn't help but look at the large room in which I resided and explore it with my eyes. It was a big room. Several curved, steel supports stuck from the ground, hugged the wall, and anchored themselves in the ceiling, most of which was composed of dirty, yellow glass. I couldn't really tell through the windows because of that filth whether or not it was a nice day., but of course, up here there's never really a "nice day," far too much smoke and stuff for that. But there were warmer and colder days, so there's that. I even saw a bird every now and then. After I decided that I had waited long enough for the trickle of miners, smelters, masons and other industrial workers to stop, I got up off my haunches, brushed myself off, and set off toward the opening near the other side of the room. Several feet above my head, many, many sets of catwalks criss-crossed, leading to some of the more delicate workrooms such as specimen handling and geology and so on and so forth. Down on the ground floor, however, was where the hard work was done. Several different types of welders, TIG, MIG, Oxyacetylene, and whatnot lay scattered about, typically around half-finished projects. Toolboxes, forgotten hardhats, and empty bottles of soft drinks - no alcohol at work - also helped complete the collection of junk. The air smelled of burnt metal, steam, gasoline, and quite a bit of sweat, but I loved it anyway; it's the scent that's filled my nostrils every day for the past two years. I had to squint my eyes a bit as I finally reached the open double-doors that led into the brightly-lit hallway. Gah. Far too many lights in here. I ran into a few fellow stragglers such as myself along the way and gave them each a small nod of greeting. They all returned it. Unfortunately, when I first got here, not many of my "hellos" would be returned. I guess I kinda scared the ponies who already worked there. Ya see, I'm not an Earth Pony, a Pegasus, or a Unicorn - Luna knows not an Alicorn! - I'm actually a bit of an oddity, a, uh, "Bat-Pony." As you may have guessed, reptilian-eyes, leathery wings, and fangs didn't do me much good when it came to gaining other workers's trust. What did that was my actual work. Been Employee of the Month for the past year and a half. Yeppers, I'm good, helps cut down the work that the other's have to do. Funny, since all I ever do is haul various sized chunks of ore about a foot and a quarter from the opening of Mine No. 12 and onto the conveyor belt where they get wheeled off to get smelted and chiseled or crushed, among a whole host of other horrible possibilities. Since then, the only serious shit I get are from a few select racists - ignorant bastards - but most of the time I ignore them. They never go too far, first time they did one of 'em crawled away with a black eye and a busted leg. My handy-dandy fangs did a good number on 'is coat too. He didn't taste very good, though. Eventually, I made it to the locker room - cramped little place - and opened up my own creaky guardian of deodorant and spare socks. Quickly hanging up my hardhat, removing my working bridle, and unzipping my coveralls, I hucked everything inside and swung the beat-up locker door shut, making sure it was locked. Not sure why, nothin' really valuable in there. I punched my card and left the massive facility, entering the brightness of the sun. Like I said earlier, lotsa clouds and smoke, but today the sun seemed to smile down upon us. I scowled back. We Bat-Ponies aren't really nocturnal, as most cliches would state, but night is our natural element. I actually personally don't like the sun, even less so than most of my fellow fanged friends. As much as I would have liked to, I didn't simply go home, get a snack, and flop onto my bed, oh no, my day was only half over. Thirty-two past four, as my watch informed me. So I went home to one of three independent houses in the entire town. I was quite proud of it, it was rather pricey, so, rather than shabby old apartments, I got a shabby old cabin. I got to enjoy three whole rooms, dont'cha know? The snack was easy, I always set them out before I leave in the morning, so after I ate I entered my bathroom. I'm not really a bragger, fillies and gentlecolts, but I do indeed consider myself a pretty good Bat-Pony, and I don't exclude my looks either. As comes standard with bat ponies, I have a dark mane and tail, two shades of purple, one really dark and the other just a smidge lighter. My eyes weren't amber as with most Bat-Ponies, but rather a light violet, and my entire coat was dark - pure Bat-Pony here - so that's that. My cutie mark is interesting; it consists of two cogs, one of which is an amber metal, bronze 'er somethin', the other being made of some weird pink smoke, I guess? Rather than filthy coveralls, and rather than, well, nothing, I slipped on the, uh, kinda scant uniform for my next job - a bit drafty - drank something with lots of caffeine and headed outside. My place was a bit secluded - classic Bat-Pony behavior - on top 'o a hill outside of the main town. I could see the massive mine/factory/lab/whatever jutting from a mountain, the mass of rusted metal and glass down below me, the town not much further off to the left. Much less a "town" and more a "village" but whatever, I called this place home. Just as I had waited back in the mine hundreds of times before, I had my the trip from home to bar hundreds of times before, so I didn't take me long at all. My second workplace was on the right side of the end of the main strip, kinda Appleoosian style town we got here, a large building with a sign reading "Luna's Palace" swinging outside the door. Every time I see that sign, I can't help but scoff. Luna's Palace was far more splendid than this bar ever would be. Yes, by the way, Luna does indeed have her own palace. For some reason, lotsa ponies are pretty surprised to learn about that. Whatever, despite the fact that the real Luna's Palace was something that this bar'd never touch, "this bar" was probably the nicest, cleanest building for miles. It most certainly got the most business, that's for sure. Whores, alcohol, games, attractive waiters - that's me - and the available purchase of temporary living space and of mining gear made this the hub 'o the town. I've been griping so far, but truth be told I liked it there. Pays less than my first job, but was also really fun; I got lotsa tips 'cuz I'm "exotic" or something or other, and It's pretty fun seein' stallions get all flustered at'cha when you blow 'em a kiss and playfully bare your fangs at 'em. Employee of the Month every month for the past while there too, if I do say so myself. Once I had double-checked my uniform I entered the bar, preparin' myself for a busy night. Never happened. As I entered, the place was about a million and a half times more quieter and less smellier than I ever remember it ever being. There were still lots of ponies there, but rather than laughing happily, singing songs and getting into hoof-fights, everyone inside was huddled to their own tables, quietly playing poker or whatever else struck their fancy, murmuring. It was still tumultuous, mind you, just not near as much as before. I was also a bit confused when I didn't see any other waiters. Hmm...what's goin' on here? A bit disconcerted, I stepped inside all of the way and the bartender gave me a glance. That was it. No hello or nothin'. I decided to try and ignore it and weaved through the tables full of muttering stallions, eventually makin' it to the dressing room. Ah. There they are. I saw six other mares, all dressed in their uniforms, huddled in the corner, whispered to each other in hushed tones. "Hey gals, what's up?" They all turned to me, looking a bit surprised at my arrival, and one of them, Bright Flare, motioned me over. I raised my eyebrow and trotted over the hard floor, looking at the tan-coated mare who had motioned me over in the fist place. "Should we tell her?" another mare, Viola, asked the group. There was few words of agreement and Flare looked at me. She smiled and said, "Sorry about what's been going on, I'll show you here in a second. Come with me." I smiled back. Someone who wasn't in some sort of trance, hooray! She led me back out into the main room and sat me down at the bar. Again, the bartender eyed me, but didn't say anything as he dried a large mug. "What's his problem?" I asked Flare. "Same problem as everyone else," Flare answered. "And what would that be?" Flare's bright orange eyes began to twitch a bit and she got visibly more nervous. "Come on..." I groaned, a bit louder than intended. After waiting for the attention of the bar-goers to wane, I leaned and and whined, saying "Tell meeeee." Flare gulped and jerked her head to the right, toward a dark corner. I followed her gesture with my eyes and gasped when I finally saw what she had been talking about. "W...wha...is he...?" Flare nodded, her eyes wide with seriousness. "Is he...?" Again, Flare nodded. "Woah." I looked over back at the parlor where "he" was sitting, alone. The figure, even sitting down, was tall. I couldn't see much of his body, most of that problem stemming from the fact that he wore a long, dark, beat-up trench coat. What was visible though was pretty impressive. Rather then grasping the mug of steaming liquid - coffee, I assumed - between two front hooves, he held the cup with some sort of claw. He was wearing fingerless gloves, exposing the tips of his claws and showing them as they really were; fleshy and kinda gross appendages. No talons or tentacles. His other foreleg, arm, whatever, was resting on the table, a small, closed book under its claw, and on top of his head was an old, dusty fedora with a bit of an oversized feather messily protruding from it. On the table lay some sort of contraption, not sure what it was. From that far away, only being able to see the side of his face, I couldn't tell you much more about that area. The bottom of his face was covered in some sort of mask, at least I thought it was a mask. Several tubes, a couple larger ones and a few smaller ones, stuck out the bottom of the leather and all went to somewhere inside of his cloak. "Why's he wearin' that mask?" I leaned over and asked Flare. She only shook her head. She didn't know. That, if my eyes weren't lying to me, that is, was "The Alien." Ponies also called him "'Ole Deadeye." He, as far as I knew, was some sort of monkey-like, albeit bigger and smarter, alien that had entered our world from a rift leading from his about three years ago. It took him a while, but he eventually convinced the Princesses that he could be trusted and he was given permission to roam Equestria as he pleased. Not much had been seen of him; he was really quite the hermit. I already was a pretty big hermit myself, but I could still understand. Having to leave your world for entire new one must be tough. I sat and looked at him for a bit more when something hit me. "Flare...has anyone taken his order yet?" The brightly-colored mare, instead of answering, looked to the ground and hid behind her curly blonde mane, her teal eyes avoiding my gaze. After a few moments of silence, she whispered, "Not really. Frosty gave him a mug of coffee when he walked in, on the house, I guess, and that's about it." I sighed. He may have been an alien, but there was no rule that stated that aliens could not be served here. I said this to Flare, but she only shrugged. I sighed again. "Gah, fine, I'll go do it." Flare's head straightened up and her eyes widened with concern. "Are you sure, Crimson?" I nodded. "Yeah, I mean, why not? I'm pretty sure he's safe..." "What about that burglar a while back?" "Oh...that..." Ya see, a while back, when 'Old Deadeye had first arrived, Celestia and Luna had given him some accommodations in the city, an old house, after they had judged him responsible and harmless enough to be let out of their site. Well, a few days later, a burglar, completely unaware of the building's resident, broke in. It was bad. 'Ole Deadeye was rumored to have broke his neck, chopped him into pieces, and eaten the corpse. 'Course, that was probably not true, but one had to wonder... "Well, Flare, I'm not a burglar, I'm a waitress, and this stallion or whatever he is obviously wants something to drink. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take his order." I looked at the bartender, Frosty Brew, by the way, and he nodded encouragingly, his smile just creeping from under his big, bushy brown mustache and his bald head shining a bit in the light. I shrugged and dismounted my stool. I began to walk over to the parlor where the alien sat, sipping his coffee through a tube stuck in his mask, pride in my step. I must admit, though, I was being a bit over-courageous over there, so I began to falter and stumble a bit as I got closer. What if he did eat ponies? Maybe he somehow went crazy over the years of loneliness and is waiting for some cute waitress to come near him so he can- I shook my head. "Come on, Crimson, you're being ridiculous," I scolded myself. I continued, sweating a bit, and finally reached the creature's table. He didn't look at me. "Uh...um...hello? May I...may I take your order?" Suddenly, he turned to face me and I had to bit my tongue to keep from gasping. He'd earned his nickname well. His left eye was indeed dead, white as a marble it was. In fact, his other eye seemed a bit dim, too... His face, at least what I could see of it though was surprisingly smooth. The only scar was that across his eye and what little I could see of his mane stuck out from the sides of his hat; it was a dark brownish color. His eye, the good one, kinda surprised me. It was a really pretty blue, even if it were a bit dim. Then he spoke. I had to bite my tongue even harder that time. That mask did something to his voice besides muffle it, that's for sure. His tone was deep, mechanical and...for lack of a better word, gargly. "Ah. So this place does serve its customers. I was beginning to beleive otherwise..." I gulped and said in a halting voice, "Um, yeah, sorry about that. It seems that I'm the only one who was brave enough to come near ya, and I'm...a bit late...." Despite the fact that he was wearing that mask of his, I could tell that he was smiling by looking at his eyes. "I'm just kidding; I understand. Not every day that you get an alien at your restaurant, eh?" "N-n-no, sir." He chuckled heavily. "Well, I never got a menu, but I'm going to assume that you have fish and chips?" I nodded. "Vodka?' Another timid nod from me. "I'll have the fish and chips, large please, but not the vodka; I don't drink alcohol." What? "Just another coffee will be fine, thank you." He hoofed me his mug and I took it. He hadn't stricken me as evil, so I manged not to scamper away like a little filly when I walked away. I let out a relieved breath when I reached the bar. "Frosty, he wants a large fish 'n chips and another coffee." The large stallion grunted happily and got to work. I turned to Flare who was looking at me in wonder. "And that's how ya do it," I said, smugly. It took a while but eventually everyone grew used to the presence of 'Ole Deadeye and the noise slowly increased. The other waitresses eventually mare'd up and abandoned the dressing room in favor of the drinks and noise outside. Frosty apologized to me about his behavior earlier, explaining that he no idea if anything he might have said would offend his unique guest. Bit of a weird precaution, I guess, but it made sense. So the night dragged on and on. Deadeye never ordered anything else, but neither did he leave, instead opting to take notes or something in the little book that had previously been under his claw. In a kind of creepy fashion, however, he followed me out when my shift ended, startling a bit of the patrons. When we were outside, he said to me, "I never got your name." "Bloom. Crimson Bloom." The alien chuckled. "What?" "I have been here for three years and I never think I'll get used to these ponies and their names." I chuckled myself at that, then I said, "Hey, speaking of names...?" "Well, here I guess I get called 'Ole Deadeye, The Alien, or Freak." "D'ya have a real name?" "Yep. Can I walk you home?" "Erm, well, I live pretty far out..." "I promise that I won't eat you. It's just you are literally the fifth pony, Bat or not, ever to speak to me without me talking first. It's enjoyable. I hope you do not mind if I make friends with you, Miss Bloom?" "Uh, no, I guess not, and call me Crimson." I inwardly shrugged and we set forth. If he did end up trying anything on the way home in the dead of night I told myself that I could take him. After a while, I asked him, "Wait, I'm only the fifth?" "Yes." "Really? Wow, I thought that we ponies were a lot nicer." Deadeye chuckled. "I thought so too, the Princesses and most of the Elements were nice enough, but that's where it ended." "That's too bad." "Indeed." After a bit more silence, I began to feel awkward. Do aliens get awkward? I had literally millions of questions, but I had no idea whether any of them were offensive or something. "I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable, Crimson, but the fault is yours if you cannot bring up a topic of conversation, seeing as I know next to nothing about Equestria as a whole," Deadeye said abruptly. "Well...uh...why do you talk like that?" "Like how?" "All...intelligent-like and stuff.." Deadeye chuckled and answered, saying, "Well, back on Earth, I was a scientist. Still am I suppose. The education made it so, I would beleive." "Oh? What did you study?" "Weapon systems." "Weapon 'systems?'" "Affirmative. CTCAMs, Orbital Fuel Rod Cannons and the like." "I have no idea what any of that means. I take it that you're quite an advanced race, compared to us." He shrugged. "Yes, I suppose...but we don't have magic." "Woah, really?" "Indeed." "How do you...how do you live?" "When I was on Earth, mostly through rapidly depleting fossil fuels." "Alright then, why are you wearing that mask?" "Well, on Earth, at least where I was, the pollution was high enough to the point at which it was toxic to all of those who inhaled it." "Wow...but that was on Earth. We're not on Earth." "Interesting observation, but guess what? The air here is toxic to me as well; to much carbon dioxide." "Does it ever get uncomfortable?" Deadeye gave and amused snort. "Well, no, not really, considering I haven't taken it off since I've been here." "You sore?" "Was. I'm not sure when I say this, but I beleive that the edges of the mask are beginning to become grafted to my flesh." "Eww." "Indeed." "..." "Is this your house?" "Oh, yeah, it is." The alien hurried forward and opened the door for me. I smiled at him and walked inside. "Well, thanks for being willing to come into contact with me, Crimson, I'm glad you did." I smiled. "No problem. Thanks for walking me home. I'll see you...?" "I don't know, perhaps tomorrow. I'm kind of exploring around here, feel free to interrupt my work to say hello if you see me." I nodded. "I will. Goodnight...Deadeye?" as soon as that sentence left my mouth I clamped my hoof over my muzzle. My face began to feel quite hot. "Deadeye" snorted bemusedly. "Call me Doctor Alexia." "Uh, okay, night then, Doctor Alexia." He nodded and turned away toward the gleaming lights in the distance. I shut the door behind me and looked at my kitchen. I had just made friends with an alien. Sweet.
Entry No. 2: Extra-Terrestrial Beings are Intimidating Things were quite interesting for me today, quite interesting indeed. You see, I don't mean to brag when I say this, but I am skilled. In what? Again, I don't mean to brag, but, quite frankly, in everything. I know a good 76.2% of every computer programming language on Earth, and know just as much, if not more, about the hardware in a computer. Mathematics, unfortunately, aren't really my strong point, but I know enough to make complex calculations and create algorithms relatively quickly. When it comes to defending myself, I'll admit that I lack there as well. I do know how to fire, reload, clean, ect cetera, ect cetera, my weapon - a customized MK 17 Mod, also know as the FN SCAR-H - and I do know how to take care of and use my blade when needed, but I may as well just jump off a cliff when it comes to much else. Oh, what's custom about my weapon, you ask? Not much. Except it fires .505 caliber rounds. Fully automatic. I must admit, it took me a while to get used to the kick myself. Drat, I've been getting off task. Perhaps I was bragging a little...? Continuing onward, I am skilled in quite a bit of things, navigating and geography included, so...it really did not take me long to travel the entire residential areas of Equestria. And, I must say, it's quite boring. I suppose there's plenty of tall buildings and such, but my they are nothing compared to my home planet's. We, I kid you not, were able to have over 3,000 people in one square mile and have them all fed and comfortable simultaneously. And the native civilizations? Intriguing, something new to learn about, but if there's one thing I've learned during all of my years, it's to accept reality, and this reality did not keep me interested. The astounding cultural similarities didn't help much, either. So, soon, I found myself wanting to go elsewhere, thus I brought the inquiry of such places to Princess Celestia. She told me of an industrial part of Equestria that's not too entirely popular far up North, eastward across neutral land, and then south again, into some dark rocks. Why not? Sounded like Earth to me. Due to some mistrusting ponies - as well as a few overly interested ponies - the trip was slower than I would have preferred but, two years, ten months, and twenty-two days after I came to Equis I arrived at an outpost where, unfortunately, a group of Stalliongradi miners attempted my life. You see, Stalliongrad is another example of a cultural parallel, this time of the old Soviet Union. Equestria news did not travel across into their land, so they must have took me for some demon or such. Negotiations were useless, and I was forced to kill them. Waste of ammunition. As is so happens, I made a rather severe miscalculation and had entered Stalliongrad. After reading a rather blood-soaked map in the small bunker, I gauged my distance and found that I had to travel a mile or so back west and then seventy-two further southward. I did it in a two days. Though my life was not attempted again, I did not feel too welcome. It was early in the morning when I first reached the town, four o' clock if I remember correctly - and I often do. The industrial building was indeed very impressive, but that was not what I was interested. What was I interested in then? Coffee. And lots of it. Coffee, my reader, is the very liquid by which I live, by which I thrive. Without it, I am not sure how I would survive. I kind of forced my way into the bar and woke the Bartender and two waitresses - in-house workers, I assume as I did so. I didn't speak, only jabbed at the coffee with my finger. The bartender, if that is who it was, complied and brought me a mug full off it. Pure Black. Success. By now the bar was just about to open, and I was content to spend my day there, drinking free coffee - free or else - and observing the ponies around me. I, unfortunately, ran into one of the "mistrusting" ponies later that day, around lunchtime. "Hey! You!" I attempted to ignore the creature, as I did all ponies, but it ended up in vain. "Freak!" I sighed and answered without looking behind me, "I do not respond to insults." "I don't care, you'll respond to me!" I didn't. Eventually, he became reckless and approached my at my table. "You, monster! I won't have you in my town!" "The will?" He opened his mouth to retort, but was caught up. "Wait, what?" "Your town. I wish to see the will that proves your ownership." "Bah! I don't have no will on me!" I finally gave him the luxury of my full attention and he backed away, his ears flattening a bit. He looked younger, his eyes a light blue and his coat a very light tan, his mane a tail a light shade of beige. His Cutie Mark consisted of nothing but a red-hot blacksmith's hammer. "Then this is not your town, and you do not have that authority. Leave me be, please." He wouldn't. I usually posses quite a stockpile of patience in my reserves, but today the reserve was not open to me, it would seem. After a bit more ignored insults, he finally did something unforgivable: knocked over my coffee. On purpose. "Sir, let me tell you what you just did. I, an alien whom you know nothing of, of my restraints, my strengths, my abilities, my beliefs, my weapons, have been traveling for days on end to get here thanks to ponies just like you who refused me a space on their trains, vehicles or other modes of transportation, and you just knocked over my coffee. Coffee, dear sir, is what I live off of. I've already killed seven Stalliongradi miners who crossed me, and you have jumped to the top of my 'hurt very severely' list. What do you have to say for yourself?" He faltered, looking rather frightened at this point, but pushed onward regardless. "Uh...ye-yer lying. About the Stalliongradis..." "Am I now?" "Yeah, you are. You couldn't have killed 'em." I looked at my coffee-stained lap and sighed. I looked back at my assailant, who stared unconvincingly back at me, daring me to retort. I did. Physically. Did you know that lower legs are quite soft when you fire a rifle round into them, especially one of my size, point blank? I knew that too, but that's not what I did. I restrained myself, and he only stalked away with a broken jaw. Unfortunately. Nearer to the end of the day, after a few mugs of the nectar of the gods, something entered that caught my interests. Never in my three years in Equestria have I witnessed a creature such as what entered at that time. It was a Pegasus, but rather than feathered wings, they were black, leathery, like a bat's. Her eyes, which were concerned at the time, were a purple color, and reptilian. Her ears were poofy. She was adorable. She entered what I could only assume was the waitresses preparing room without noticing me. Soon, she reappeared with one of the in-house waitresses whom of which sat her down at the bar and began to speak to her. Very soon, her attention was drawn to me. I made it look as if I hadn't noticed, but I did. Soon, she approached me and haltingly asked for my order. Brave little thing. Anyway, she's probably told you herself, so I won't waste your time. Point is: I have myself a Bat-Pony friend. Hooray for Doctor Alexias, I suppose. After dropping my new friend, Crimson Bloom's her name, off at her home outside of town, I quickly traveled back down to the bar where I purchased a few nights in the owner's best room. Or made him give it to me, either way, I was going to get to sleep there. I was going to give him compensation later, I swear it! Anyway, stomach full of coffee, I entered the room and stripped my gear. Despite what I had told Crimson earlier, my mask had indeed come off my face before, as it did then. Only for a few seconds though, otherwise I would have passed out rather quickly. I Qwik-Powdered my clothes, thus cleaning them, and climbed into my bed, eventually drifting into a deep sleep, despite the bed's, uh, smaller size. As it so happened, around midnight, I was awoken by a small creaking noise. Ah, someone had entered my room. And judging by their failed attempt at stealth, they did not want to awake me. Option A being because it was a maid of some sort, tidying up the room, or, more likely Option B: they wished to physically harm me. "Bit of advice, friend; whilst attempting to kill someone in their sleep, don't wake them up." I heard not one but three quite gasps of surprise and I flicked on my bedside lamp. As suspected, three ponies, all stallions, one of which had his lower jaw bandaged - wonder why - all stood in my room. All of them were Earth Ponies, so I needn't have worried about magic or wings, but one solid hit from any of them and I would more than likely be done for. "Oh? Is that a knife I see there?" One of the ponies, a dim gray stallion with a light blue mane and tail, took a step back, attempting to hide his weapon. "Dear sirs, you, if my eyes do not deceive me and my mind knows what it does, just made an attempt on my life. According to Equestrian law, even out here, I now have the right to kill you in retaliation. All three of their eyes widened, and then steeled in determination, but I was faster. With one round fired, the knife-brandishing stallion fell to the floor, a fountain of blood where his head used to be, dirtying the decorative wallpaper and the rug on the floor. The other, a dark brown pony with a black mane and tail, attempted to flee, but it was an amusingly futile attempt, as the hole in the door and the distant spat of gore on the main floor below told me. That left the original pony, the who had confronted me in the bar. He seemed frozen with fear - rightfully so - and backed into a corner, sweating and emptying his bladder as he did so. "You're one of those kinds of beings, aren't you? You know, the ones who don't deserve a place in existence?" The stallion's eyes widened even further and he began to shake his head, attempting to speak. "I'm sorry, dear sir, but it seems that your jaw has been broken. Wonder how that happened...?"
Interlude I: "So, About This Invader?" Red Anvil lay on his couch inside of his run-down living room, watching some old films. He was a standard-brown colored pony with a darker mane and tail. His cutie mark was, as his name suggested, an anvil that glowed bright-red with heat. Red's eye twitched as he felt a sharp pain go up his leg again, and he looked down at it. It was heavily bandaged and hurting like Tartarus. Having the arm of a machine malfunction and come crashing down upon your leg ain't very fun, is it? After the pain subsided, the stallion sighed heavily, signifying his crushing boredom. He loved his job, and, without being able to hardly move on his own, work was out of the question. He had been stuck inside of his house, watching old films and reading old books for weeks now, and he was just about to go crazy. He wasn't lonely, even though he was still single at the ripe old age of forty-two, because his nephew had managed to get a small bit of time cut from his work so that he could get home earlier. Red looked up at the cracked clock on the wall and smiled; he would be home any minute now. The blacksmith returned his attention to the projection on his cracked wall, only to have it drawn back mere seconds later as his nephew entered the house and brushed himself off. "Hey! Welcome home, Stone!" Gray stone, who's colors and indeed his cutie mark matched his name, smiled back at his injured uncle. "Thanks. I've got something pretty interesting to tell you about today," he said as he set down the paper bag he was carrying and withdrew two bottles of alcohol. "Something interesting? In this place? Don't lie," Red said, chuckling. "That's the thing, not only is it interesting, but really quite astonishing." "Oh?" Red answered, watching as his nephew circled around the couch and sat on a sofa opposite of his uncle. He shielded his eyes and complained, saying, "Ugh, Red, turn that thing off." Red Anvil craned around and switched off the projector, after which he gestured for his bottle. Stone hoofed him the vodka and opened his own beer. After a quaff, he leaned forward in his chair. "You ever hear about The Alien?" Red thought for a second, "Uh, yeah. In't he that creature that came here a while ago? Never really believed it..." Stone smirked a bit. "Well you better beleive it, 'cuz he's here." Red frowned, "Boy, don't joke with me. How is that possible?" Stone leaned back in his comfy chair, saying, "Not sure. I saw him at the bar when I was picking up our drinks." "Really?" "Yup." "What...what's 'e look like?" "Well, he's pretty tall, even when he sat down. Kinda looked like a clothed, hairless monkey. Didn't really see much of him; he was wearin' all these clothes and armor and shit. He wore this mask that covered the lower half of his face, too," Stone reported, covering his face with his foreleg for added visuals. Red frowned again. "How'd he...eat?" "Now that was interesting to see. That mask I just told ya about?" Red nodded. "It's got a buncha tubes runnin' from it and all over in his coat. What he did was detach one, cut up his food with a knife and then-," Stone stopped to chuckle at his memories, "he...well, he, like vacuumed up the bits." "No." "Hehe, yep." "Drink?" "Just stuck 'is straw un'er his mask." "What was he drinking?" "Coffee, I think." Red was quite for a moment. He eventually broke the silence, saying, "Stone, if yer makin' this up, you did a good job...'e dangerous?" Stone winced after his uncle finished his sentence. "What?" Red inquired, interest peaked. "Um...yeah...you know that asshole, uh...gah, what's his name...? That annoying bastard with a hammer for a cutie mark?" "Ah, that'd be Git." Stone snorted, "Really? Damn accurate name." Red nodded, "Yeah. Anyway, what about 'im?" Stone began to laugh. "You're never gonna beleive this, but 'Git' walked right up to this alien and started insulting him." Red leaned forward and spat out mouthful of vodka. "Really? What happened?" Stone smiled at this uncle. "He broke his jaw." The both of them burst out laughing, a sense of justice flowing through their veins. When they finished, Red shook his head. "Well, what's gonna happen next, ya think?" Gray Stone only shrugged. "I got no idea, Red."
Chapter Three: Unwilling Flight (Revised) Around four-thirty in the morning, I was torn from my sleep like some stray piece of paper caught in a tornado by a high-pitched and extremely irritating clanging to the side of my bed. Groaning, I turned over and heavily swung, missing the blaring alarm clock and pounding the table in its stead. It took a few more tries, but I eventually shut if off. For a while, I sat there in bed, gathering the energy necessary to drag myself out of the warm, comfortable, fluffy bed of mine while trying not to fall asleep at the same time. Then everything came rushing back to me. The Alien, our meeting, the walk home, everything. Laying there in bed, I scoffed a bit. Did it all really happen? Had I actually made friends with an alien? Pretty crazy to think about. Finally, after killing my thoughts about my newest acquaintance and groaning once more, I sat up and swung my lower legs over the side of the bed, where the came to a rest on the dirty, circular rug that my bed sat upon. I sighed and did my morning ligament-cracking - spine, neck, legs - and finally managed to crawl out of bed. I took a quick, cold shower to wake up and quickly brushed my teeth and mane. And, beleive it or not, I wear makeup. Not too much, mind you, but it's there. I know I'm pathetic, but even a super-awesome Bat-Pony such as myself has to look pretty every now and then. So, I had to apply that, drinking a Red Minotaur for breakfast, I exited my home to a simultaneously cold and warm climate. It's hard to explain, but it's true. As I approached my first workplace, I couldn't help but noticed the lack of noise. Usually, seeping from a few open and/or cracked windows, you can hear talking and the buzzing of machines starting up and whatnot, but not today. I frowned at the oddity and only shrugged as I pushed open the door. No one in the entry halls either. However, there was someone at the front desk, as the shuffling noises around under the desk gave away. "Yo Rust!" "Что вы хотите, Малиновый?" "Equestrian, Rust. You escaped, remember?" "Huh-?" There was a loud thud and some clanking as, I assume, Rust went to stand up but hit his head on the underside of the metal table, spilling tools all over the place. "Гах! Celestia гребаный черт побери!" I chuckled to myself. After a few moments of silence, I raised my voice. "You alive?" "Pah! Barely," came the heavily-accented response. Lemme tell ya, when you first meet Rust - real name being Anton Kaffrov, "Rust" being just a nickname - he. Is. Terrifying. He's a good six-and-a-half hooves tall, just as long, and pretty muscled up. His gray-colored coat, darker mane and tail, and an ever-present shade on his chin give him a pretty roughed-up look help with his intimidation. His stories from Stalliongrad make ya shiver, too. He was forced to fight, at the age of thirteen, in that big 'ole war that's still going on with Germaney. Got a bunch of scars all over from it. Crazy-ass Adolf Bitler... His voice though...deep, rolling, and heavily accented is the scariest part. But, after you meet him, turns out that he's really just a big teddy bear. 'Course, didn't seem like that then, but getting smashed in the head by a metal table would put anyone in a foul mood. After a few more moments of silence and me trying to fight down my amusement, I spoke up again, saying, "Well, seeing as you are indeed alive and fully-functioning, I have a question to ask you." The large stallion peeked over the table and began to look around, confused, until his eyes fell on me. Ah. He lives. "And that would be?" he asked, in an urging tone. "Where the hell is everyone?" "Ah, interesting bit of info, that." he responded, "Know that alien that recently came into town?" I nodded. "Well, he murdered three stallions last night." My pupils jumped from standard size to dinner plates in about a millisecond. "Wait-what-waddaya mean?" "That's what I heard at least. Everyone's gone to lynch him. If you want to go join the party, go right ahead, I guess. I have some work to do anyway..." If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. I bounded outside of the building, jumped, and opened up my wings, letting the wind catch them and drag me high into the sky. Gliding forward and closer to the town, my gut froze as I saw a large pillar of fire engulfing what I assumed to be the bar that I worked at. Well, used to. In the middle of the street, the entire town - which really wasn't that much - was shouting and throwing rocks and other things at the burning building. I landed a few feet outside of the crowd, stirring up dust from the dirt road, and just sat for a while, staring all wide-eyed at the whole scene., my wings drooping. No one, not even a technologically advanced alien such as Doctor Alexias could survive such a fire. Again, I took off, this time toward my distant home. It was obvious that I wasn't going to have to report to either job today. I sat at my kitchen table, a cocktail of Red Minotaur and Appleshine clenched in my hoof, staring at the table, my mind blank. I had literally known that thing, that alien for only a few hours. We didn't find out really all that much about either of each other either, and yet there I was, sitting here in a zombie-like state. Why? I wasn't in love with him or anything - promised myself that would never happen again - and I had had much better friends, both in the past and then. Why did I feel so sad? If he had really murdered three stallions, then he got what he deserved. But no, Doctor Alexias wouldn't murder anyone... And how could be I so sure? He was an alien. I just shook my head and stood up. Shit happens. It'd all get figured out soon, and then we, myself included, could all get on with our merry lives. With this thought in my head and a half-empty glass on the table, I returned to bed, already emotionally drained in the one hour that I had been awake. I don't know what time it was, how much later it happened, or whatever, but after I had been asleep for a while, I was awoken by three heavy thuds. Already wide awake, I got out of bed and strained my ears, listening for the noise again. A few seconds later, it happened again, startling me. In a quick succession, faster than the last, three thuds sounded. Ah. My door. Duh. I shook my head, internally scolding myself. Maybe everything got sorted out and they need me down at the mine, I thought. I tried to keep Alexias out of my mind and went to the door. "Alright, Rust, ya found me, jus' lemme..." I opened the creaky, wooden entrance to my humble abode, expecting to see Rust come to get me and maybe tell me what happened. That's not what I got. "Hello, Crimson, would you like to go on and adventure?" It was Alexias. Doctor Alexias. 'Ole Deadeye. The Alien. I don't know what came over me - probably put on too much makeup that mornin' - but I squeed in excitement and threw myself into his surprised arms. "Well, I never knew myself to make such a lasting impression on anyone, but I guess I swayed you." Blinking away tears, and flushing with embarrassment as I realized what I was doing, I scrambled from his arms. "Nevermind, then..." As I sat there, I noticed that it was really rather quite bright for such a time at night. There seemed to be kind of a bright, orange light behind the Alien. "Deadeye, I mean, Alexias, what the hell is going on? What happened? Is the bar alright? Are you alright?" The Alien's upper body puffed up a bit as he took a deep breath and let it loose in a massive sigh. "Well, does this answer your question?" Alexias took a step to the side and I had to rub my eyes to make sure I saw what I saw. The entire town. All of it. It was on fire. That was the glow. Several columns of flames lept up from the buildings, licking the sky and loosing great, billowing pillars of smoke. Off in the distance, several ponies were shouting, trying to kill the flames. It took me a while, but I eventually got something out, "Guh-uh-wha-didja...? What the buck!? Did you do this??" "Yes, but, to repeat my first question, would you like to go on an adventure?" "What? No! What the hell is wrong with you?" "Huh, that's funny, I don't recall giving you a choice. Well, I did, actually, but you don't have a choice." "What? Rust, Frosty, someone, help me!" "Now, now, Crimson, calm down." "You seriously want me to calm down!? My town is burning, you murdered three stallions, came up here to ask me if I wanted to go 'an adventure' and then tell me to calm down?? And to think, I almost cried when I thought you were dead!" "That's all very touching, but I fail to see your point." "Gah! HELP!" "You are irritating me, Crimson." "What!?" Through his mask, Alexias gave me a deadpan look that lasted several seconds. After that, he simply clonked me over the head with a frying pan that I hadn't noticed before. And then everything was black. For the third time in recent history, I awoke. This time, rather than inside my home, on my bed, I was somewhere else. Judging from the cramped amount of space that I had and the texture of the cloth rubbing against me, in a burlap sack. The ground was hard, and it was significantly colder than I last remembered. Then, as it had this morning, everything came flooding back. This time, with my abduction. "Alexias! You motherbucker, where are you!?" "Watch it! You'll roll into the fire!" I froze. Fire? Not fire... "Gyaaaaahh!" I tore open the bag and scooted away as fast as I can, breathing heavily, my two eyes fixed on the small but still firey fire not six feet from my current position. "Not a big fan of fire?" 'Ole Deadeye was sitting, cross-legged, in the circle of light and warmth that the flames provided. Behind him, the sky was dark, a massive moon shining brightly above him, surrounded by clouds. It was snowing, heavily. "Where the buck are we, Alexias?" "Just outside of Potevka, Stalliongrad." "What? Why??" Doctor Alexias only sighed. "Now is more than likely the wisest of times to tell you exactly what is going on." "Ya think?" My sarcasm flying over his head like an arrow, he nodded earnestly. "Well, my dear Crimson, it started after I got back to the bar - never bothered to learn it's name - and, er, purchased a few nights in a room. I don't know if you heard of it, but earlier I was approached by a very nasty stallion. He started insulting me, which, in all honesty, is something that I can stand. It has been happening to me my entire life. But...but he spilled my coffee..." I could have sworn that I saw a tear. "But not matter, that was the last straw." My eyes widened. "You didn't. . .you didn't kill him, did you?" "What? No, of course, not. I wanted to, but that would have been highly illegal. No, he crawled away with a broken jaw. A half an hour or so later, you came in and you know everything up until I 'bought' my stay-" "Why did you say it like that?" "Pardon?" "You said' bought' all sarcastic like." "No I didn't, continuing forward, I went to spend the night in that room, but, well, my life was attempted." "What? Really?" "Affirmative. The stallion who's jaw I broke two of his friends, I assume. All three of them were dead in less than thirty seconds." Again, my eyes widened, "What? Are you sure they were trying to kill you??" "Well, considering there were three of them, that they crept into my room in the dead of night, and one of them had a rather large butcher knife on his body, then yes, I beleive that my judgment was sound." "Woah..." I whispered. That was crazy, "What happened next?" I asked him. "Well, the bar's owner, Frosty, I beleive you called him, came blundering up and didn't bother to ask me what happened, instead assuming that I "pony"napped the lot and brought them up to my room to murder. Despite the fact that I had killed them rather loudly and bloodily, and that in doing so in such a fashion I gave away their deaths, and that if I wanted to kill them stealthily, oh, ho, they would have been killed stealthily! But all that's aside the point. I had to barricade myself in and had to not kill any of the other ponies. It took quite a long time for me to escape. . ." I sat, processing all of this. If it was all really true, than he was innocent. But. . . "But how does that justify you lighting my entire town on fire??" "Well, I didn't do it-" "But you said-" "Ah, ah, I didn't do it myself, but I caused it. You really need to find a less psychotic lot to spend your time with." I gave him a deadpan look, much as he gave me when just before he knocked me unconscious. As if on cue, that particular part of my head sent a shard of pain down my skull. I reached up and rubbed it furiously. "Owwwww....why did you have to take me??" "Because, you're my friend." I groaned the biggest groan I've ever groaned and simply fell onto my side, not caring that the side of my face was in the snow. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.
Chapter Four: Three Weeks LaterSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
