Anonymous Death
The One
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It was a dark day in New York. A man walked on a plane his hair silk black and his suit even darker. He took a seat. The man shifted his eyes left and right. He was uneasy after the letter he got from the one known as Anonymous.
Dear Mr. Keyway,
I've been watching you, and I am aware Mr. Keyway, you are leaving New York. Have a nice flight. :)
~Signed Anonymous~
That letter scared Mr. Keyway and disturbed him to no end. How did this 'Anonymous' know he was flying? How did this 'Anonymous' know his address? And most of all: Who is this 'Anonymous'. The plane wasn't a private plane as he was originally going to take but, this 'Anonymous' character; he'd never bring citizens in harm’s way . . . would he?
Keyway looked left and right; his silky black hair waving in the light wind. Suddenly a voice appeared behind his shoulder. "Rough time getting here . . . Mister?" the voice asked its voice was male, raspy to some extent, and deep all at the same time.
Keyway chuckled lightly. "You have no idea Sir," his own voice raspy.
"You got the cold or something?" the man asked from behind him.
Without turning around Keyway answered. "Nah, I'm just a little shaken up, I got hit by a car a couple of days before this flight," he rubbed a wound that was still visible.
The mysterious voice chuckled. "Is that so? You should be dead," he said. "I mean, it's a one-in-a-million chance to live getting run over," the voice added his voice sounding a little flat.
Mr. Keyway nodded immediately afterwards. "I know, I'm grateful I'm still alive," he admitted rubbing his head.
The voice sighed. "Now . . . this, how many times have you been run over?" he asked leaning on the man.
Still not looking to his face he answered. "This'll be the fourth time this year," he looked to his hands embarrassed he'd just told that to a stranger.
The voice was shocked. "Mister, you've been run over four times. Aren't you worried about Anon?" he asked getting a strange sound from Keyway.
"Who's Anon?" he asked keeping on reading his book. He took note no one else seemed to be on this section.
"Who's Anon! He's Death! He's your worst nightmare! He can gut you like a damn fish if he wanted!" the voice caught Keyway's attention.
"A-Anon? How do I stop him?" he hastily asked biting his lip.
The voice responded. "Stop him? Why stop him? Just go with him Jonathon Keyway," the voice was scaring him; how'd he know his name?
"How'd you know my name?" Jonathon asked not looking to the voice's source a little too scared to look.
The voice leaned in and began to whisper. "I know more than you think Johnny. I know about Jenny," Jonathon's jaw dropped as his wife's name was brought up.
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A set of silence swept the air as Jonathon was trying to process how this man knows Jenny. "Okay, how do you know J-" finally turning to face him the words caught in his throat to the sight of a white mask with a black mustache.
"What's a matter Johnny? Cat's got your tongue or is it Anonymous got your tongue?" the mask creepily moved!
"W-What are you?" Jonathon asked backing away from the figure.
The mouth's edges moved upward. "Why Johnny, I'm Anonymous," he reached in his trench coat pulling out a gun. "Now, goodnight Johnny," he said just before a loud boom emitted from the room. Brains splattered from one end of the room to another. Anonymous smirked as he swiped his forefinger along the crimson red and bright pink liquid. Anonymous saw one lone boy. "Ah, what's a matter boy, see something bad?" he asked smirking visibly.
The boy mustered the courage to speak. "I'm telling my dad!" he shouted loudly.
Anonymous put his forefinger and thumb just between his eyes. "No, you won't boy," he said calmly as he pointed the gun to the boy's head smiling as the trigger was pulled back and his black trench coat was drenched in red liquid along with pink. "Tsk, tsk boy, should've just gone to your mother," he said as he brought his hands along his coat.
Anonymous just loves his job killing for a living. Anonymous soon heard voices in his head followed by a bright flash blinding the assassin Anonymous. Anon brought his eyes shut.
Soon he felt something poke him and he opened his eyes. "Twilight, why do you insist on bringing these . . . things to Equestria?" a small purple dragon asked walking to the purple figure.
"Because Spike, every-pony deserves to know we're not alone," the female voice said as she stared at Anonymous.
"What is it Spike?" Twilight gave up.
The male voice shrugged his shoulders. "You got me Twi."
Finally Anon's vision finally cleared up to a faint vision. He was in the dark and gloomy sky of New York after all. He could easily see the figure was on four legs.
Then came the full recovery. "Holy sweet Jesus!" Anonymous jumped backwards almost reacting to paint the room with purple fur, purple scales, dark red, and pink.
"Who's this Jesus?" the horse asked.
Anon shook his head dumbfounded it's talking. "You're talking," he flatly said still dumbfounded.
The pony nodded. "Yes, my name is Twilight Sparkle what's yours?" she asked titling her head to the left.
Anonymous took a moment. "Uh . . . Anonymous," he had a delayed reaction.
Twilight didn't think that name odd. "Nice to meet you Anonymous," she said shaking his hand.
After silence Twilight looked to Anonymous. "I'm sure you're hungry," she said smiling at him lightly.
Anonymous is trying to figure out how he was originally blowing the brains out of people and now he's sitting next to a mutated purple horse . . . this should be interesting.
