Redemption of a Murderer

by Elaine_Lunaris

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 2005

Liar, Killer, Betrayer... Murderer. He is known as all of these, and more. He has never changed over the time he has been. But given a second chance, can he change?

A second chance… He has never recieved one in his long, long lifetime. All of that is about to change one day when he is given the chance by a strange melodical voice. Who is the voice? What does it want with him?

Why is it giving him a second chance…?

Who would want to redeem a murderer…?

——-

My Second crossover Fic, this one of the G-Mod gamemode 'Murder'

Coverart, as of the moment. Was found by google searching G-Mod Murder Knife. The exact location of the Cover art can be found at this site

Hope y'all enjoy the story.

Note, this is going to be just a story I will work on occasionally, as I will be working on my other fics, hoping to finish them eventually.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-06 16:50:03 UTC

Prolouge

Redemption of a Murderer

By Saved SoulWriter

A man covered head to toe in red walked down a long office corridor. Sneaking... Silent... Waiting... He was waiting for the inevitable action of those he called Bystanders, to act on their suspicions and kill one of their own, giving him the chance to murder them all. He watched as they filed into the room, clothed in all the colours of the rainbow, from yellow to green, to blue to black. You named the colour, they wore it.

They were talking, again they were talking, why could they never stop? Was it suspicion? Some instinct, which drove them to seek social comfort in this time of need? Never the less, this game he could play well, ‘the actor’ moved forwards and took point. He walked up to the one know now as ‘Bravo’ and threw on his fake smile. He could play this game well indeed.

Bravo smiled at him and walked away towards the others, silently gesturing him to follow. He was in.

It wasn’t easy doing what he did. It was so hard trying to deceive all of these foolish bystanders... but there was one he had to be wary of, and any one of them could be him.

His eye shifted around the crowd, looking for the one who he would have to pick off first, where was he?

There he was, ‘Alfa.’

He walked forwards and smiled at the man holding the gun at his side. This was the one he feared above all others, this man, he feared for one simple reason...

The man could kill him with a single shot of that pistol... and he would have never been the wiser.

No... He didn’t fear him, he hated him! He always got him in the end, but never killed him. He had to take up so many names over the countless times this man has been hunting him. Right now, he possessed the name ‘Foxtrot.’ He liked this name... cunning like a fox, the fox always lies. He smiled evilly with his eyes, the only part of him to betray him true intentions.

Alfa squinted as he smiled, he stared at him with an intense knowing and suspicion, laced the air like a twelve layered cake.

A lick of sweat trailed down Foxtrot’s back, leaving a cold shiver down his spine. He didn’t dare even move in this man’s presence, less he be discovered.

Finally he stopped squinting and nodded to him. He had done it, now he was trusted. Turning and looking around the room, he saw everyone smiling at him. A flicker of a feeling flowed in Foxtrot’s heart.

Acceptance...

What? No! He couldn’t feel this! It was his purpose to murder them all! IT WAS HIS DESTINY!

...

Wasn’t it...?

Doubt...

He didn’t know where all these feeling had surfaced from, but his face did not betray him. Over a hundred years, he had travelled from body to body, ‘The Murderer.’ And he had never felt this way before... so why now?

Friendship...

He watched as Alfa suspected Bravo, and watched him intently. But that instantly changed when he denied being ‘The Murderer.’ Then Alfa turned to him, a flicker of anger in his eyes. But Bravo came to his protection, much to Foxtrot’s own surprise.

Loyalty...

Alfa raged, he pulled the gun and pointed it at Bravo. Warning him to get out of the way or he would shot him instead. Bravo turned his face ever so slightly to look at Foxtrot’s eyes. He smiled slightly, shook his head, and then he was shot.

Kindness...

What was this feeling in his chest, as he looked down at the body of Bravo? He saw a hole the size of his fist in the middle of Bravo’s chest, his blue clothes stained red with blood. What was this feeling?

Guilt...

He looked at the eyes of Alfa; he saw sadness in the eyes of the man with the gun. But eventually that flickered away into anger as he had still not caught ‘The Murderer.’

He remembered something a man had said once a long time ago...

‘Be honest with yourself, and you will find peace.’

The answer was to accept who he was? He had done that a long time ago.

Honesty...

Another feeling in his chest...? He didn’t have time for this!

He listened to the surroundings again as Alfa shook his head in disgust. He picked up his dropped pistol, and walked away. He could hear them laughing at a joke someone told, he must of missed it, the jokes where the only thing he enjoyed about being here.

Laughter...

What is with these feelings in his body? Why was he feeling them in the first place? Had something changed with this Bystander’s actions? What had Bravo done to him?

He saw the bystanders, exchange gifts as it was that time of season again... What would happen to Bravo’s gift though? He looked around and saw a lone present on top of a table. He picked it up and read the label.

From: Bravo

To: Foxtrot

Underneath that was a little note...

You always seem so alone this time of year, so I thought I would get you something!

Happy Holidays!

-Bravo

p.s. Don’t give me anything back, I don’t need it.

...

He felt a tear go down the side of his face as he tore open the packaging. He pulled open the top of the box and reached inside. His shaking hands pulled out a blue scarf...

...

What was this feeling now?

Happiness...

Generosity...

His shaking hands put the scarf to his neck and tied it around, it was warm. Unlike Bravo’s body... he would forever be cold.

Time to feast...

What was that...? He felt his body move of its own accord. He reached behind his back and pulled out the knife.

It always ended this way. His urges would get the better of him if he took too long to murder them. He didn’t want to murder anymore...

Sorrow...

He felt his body move forwards as he begun a slow jog, following into a slow sprint, then a sprint, his blue scarf whipping behind him. He watched as Alfa turned around, fear in his eyes as Foxtrot lifted the knife above his head. Alfa pulled the gun back out and pointed it at him, he saw him pull the trigger.

Kill...

The bullet whizzed past him as he shifted to the left, he placed a hand on the top of a desk and jumped over it, preparing to throw the knife at Alfa. He saw Alfa prepare another shot, aim at him and shoot. He ducked as the bullet passed over his head, a moment’s hesitation cost him another one of Alfa’s reloads. He threw the knife, the bullet shot.

He watched as his knife sailed towards the man with the gun, cutting open his left cheek and leaving a song scar, stretching from chin to ear.

He felt the bullet enter his body as he went sailing backwards towards the wall. He felt it pass through his ribcage and enter his heart. He felt a spike of energy course through his veins, a flash of white, searing pain all along his body...

And then, nothing but darkness surrounded him.

You have the power to accept the magic of friendship, but have never been given the chance. But I will give you this chance...

Do not let it go to waste.

The Beginnings of a Second Chance, I now give unto you...

Pain was what he felt when he awoke from his darkened slumber. He had no idea how long he slept, or where he was, but he knew that he needed to get up. Least Alfa know he was still alive...

Wait a minute... He should be dead- Shouldn’t he?

He opened his eyes and looked around at where he was, it looked like- The inside of a tree..?

He saw a cauldron sitting in the middle of the room, a bin filled with bloodied bandages, masks hanging from the wall- and an animal?

He looked closer at the animal in front of him. It was black with white stripes, or was that white with black stripes? He hated multiple colours...

The animal turned to face him; its neck was covered in gold rings, and its eyes- They were dark blue, just like Bravo’s.

“I have no clue of whom you are pony of red, but surely if I left you, you would be dead.”

Did that Zebra just- talk...?

He screamed, jumped of the couch, his butt hitting the floor as he skidded backwards with his feet till his back hit the wall.

“Please be still or you will tear your stitches- which reminds me, your name, of which is...?

It had been a long time since he spoke... too long. His voice must be raspy from disuse.

“...F-f-foxtrot...”

Was that what he sounded like some old guy about to die by his- No mustn’t think like that! Wherever here is, it certainly isn’t where ‘He’ is. Have to try a different approach.

“W-where... am- I?

The Zebra turned its head and spoke in the rhymes again.

“You are in my hut strange being, fear not for your wounds as I have started the healing.”

The Zebra walked over to a wooden table, picked up a cup, dipped it in the cauldron and brought it to him.

“Drink this and it will calm your nerves, of which I am sure are twisting curves.”

He took the cup from the Zebra’s hooves and sniffed the mixture within. It was tea. He took a sip and tasted the number of spices made to make the batch of tea, almost perfect. It was then that he thought of a question to ask. This time, his voice sounded more natural, instead of forced.

“Who are you...?”

Two hours prior -Ponyville Library

“Twilight, letter from the princess addressed to you!”

Twilight popped her head up from the stack of books to stare at her assistant at the door. Over the years in Ponyville, Spike had grown. He now stood at 7 hooves high -Roughly translating at about 6 feet- He still hadn’t grown his wings yet, but that was expected for a dragon his age, and it was expected for them to sprout in soon. A magenta hue glowed around her horn before the scroll was removed from the young purple drake’s claws.

“Thank you, Spike. Why don’t you take a break for a while?”

The teenage drake’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he went over to his bed and grabbed out a comic.

“*Mumble* New studies...? *Mumble* Your new Student-

Gasp!

I’m getting a STUDENT?!”

Twilight rushed around the Library, gathering books and scrolls needed to teach a student about the magic of friendship. Spike rolled his eyes, knowing that Twilight would over-react about the letter from Celestia.

“Twilight, relax would you? Your student isn’t going to be here for a while.”

“Relax?! I can’t RELAX! Princess Celestia has given me the task of TEACHING the magic of friendship! I HAVEN’T EVEN FINISHED LEARNING IT MYSELF!”

Twilight sat on the floor, her head cradled between her forelocks and her eyes flickering from side to side. Spike, placing down his comic, grabbed one of the lightest books on the shelf closest to him, walked up to his sister... and proceeded to hit her on the head with the spine of the book.

“Baka!”

The purple unicorn’s eyes spun for a few seconds before she shook it off. She glared at her assistant, who smiled innocently.

“You were doing it again Twilight, it had to be done.”

Twilight stared at Spike, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“You and I will have words later...” She said ominously, before picking up her saddlebags and walking out the front door of the Library. Leaving Spike to wonder what he was going to do with his day off...