The Night Robin

No migraine I have ever experienced could compare to the sheer pain that was emanating from my skull. It felt as if something carved out my eye, and was currently fucking me in the socket with it’s 12-inch horse-cock. I couldn't move, or bring my hands to my head. Very faintly, through the pain, there was an imminent warmth above me. I shivered madly, trying to shake off whatever was above me.

My efforts were short-lived, as a rough claw descended forcefully onto my head, I stopped shaking, and breathing.

“That’s better boy, ssssh calm down, the medicine will kick in soon,” a feminine voice spoke from above.

Oh, okay. The medicine, my groggy brain thought, that’s good... Wait... Medicine!? Oh shit, she drugged me!? What did she put in me? Was it poison? Fuck, am I gonna die!?

The female… Whatever on top of me evidently saw my panic, as she leaned over to hiss into my ear, “Calm now, boy. It’ll be alright. You won’t be harmed, yet. Now watch.”

She turned my head to the bright-tv, the light didn't burn my eyes. Maybe the ‘medicine’ was some kind of painkiller? Taking my thoughts away from the medicine, I focused on the TV. It was playing a news jingle, and the words: Channel 4 news flashed across the screen.

A pony, tan colored with a brunette mane appeared sitting on his desk. He flashed a winning smile to the audience, and said in a charismatic tone, “Hello Equestria, I’m your news host, Flash Letter. Today in Canterlot, a burglary has taken place. The noble house of Avernus was robbed of it’s valuables and heirloom. Though, as devastating it may be to our much-beloved Captain Avernus, there is still some hope for the case. As you're going to see from the security footage, the alleged perpetrator is believed to be a human.”

Grainy security footage covered the screen, as Flash’s voice narrated over the actions it showcased,  “As you can see in this footage from security cameras located across the street, you can clearly see a human, with what looks like a satchel in hoof, running across the roof, and onto the ground. Then up and over the fence!”

The footage cut out, showing the Anchor-pony again, ”Unfortunately, that is all the footage we have of this Burglarious Hominid. As of right now, the guard has put out a 4,000 bit bounty on the human’s safe return to the Avernus family, and an additional 2,000, for the recovery of the stolen goods.”

The T.V was turned off suddenly, casting my unprepared eyes into almost pitch-black darkness. Like wet, black velvet.

“Oh my, I get a choice!” Said the feminine tone above me, with an excited yet barbarous dertone that spoke of nothing but than unpleasant topics, “Choices are wonderful, don’t you think? If everything was written down from the beginning, it must take a brave soul to change the script. I can change your script. I could see if the guild could use you, I could turn you into the guard, and let you live out your short life to the sounds of caterwauling nobles, I could lock you up behind walls and padding, forever my toy, or I could kill you. I would enjoy some nice, fresh meat. Especially the ribs, so juicy. If only you could understand the words coming out of my mouth.”

Just try to eat or bind me bitch, I might be drugged, but I’m not going to be abused or killed for your pleasure. Rather, the so called predator will fall prey to what has learned to kill and eat it’s predators.

“It’s so much more fun when the thing you can talk to can understand you,” She spoke again, in a mocking whisper, making me shiver in repressed anger. “ Or can you understand me ? I always wondered what animals think. I’m not like ponies, who think all animals think about is food, water, and sex. I’d like to think everything has more than those simple thoughts.”

Lady, if only you knew... And if only I wasn't too afraid to speak.

She then proceeded to pick up a old-timey telephone, one of those that actually used cables. The bells inside clanked, as she moved it. Good lord, it has honest-to-god bells in it! When she had it where she wanted it, she picked up the receiver and proceeded to dial a number. The phone rung for some time, before the call was picked up.

“Hello, Night Fence, it’s me. I have that human they talked about on the news. I also am in possession of the valuables he stole,” She paused, evidently listening to someone, “Please, give me a chance. This could be huge! He’s not dumb, he’s been trained well, if he could steal an entire safe-full of valuables, and escape guards. If we can get him to obey us, and train him some, we’d have an amazing tool at our disposal,” Another pause, before the… female ruffled her feathers in excitement, “Ohmygosh! Thank you!”

She hung up the phone, and rushed towards a closet. It was then that I got a good look at my captor. Imagine my surprise, when I realised she was a griffon. Eagle-headed, lion body, wings. Fit the description perfectly. Her licorice-hued feathers glinted in the small beams of light that pierced through the closed curtains,some of her feathers had white tips, especially the feathers around the neck. Forming a natural band of white on her neck.

I could only see so much through the dark room, vaguely I could see her picking cloth items out. Before long, she had gathered up what I assumed was a full set of clothing for me. My assumptions were proven correct, as she had flown back to me with vigor, and began to forcibly put the clothes unto me. The first thing I had noticed about my new outfit, was the amount of tropical-colored feathers, and lacework contained upon it. I guess I should start from the feet up.

My news shoes/boots were pointed, much in the way a jester’s shoes were. The pants upon my shins were colored a rich, royal purple with an argyle pattern. A bootstrap and a ruffle of brightly plumed feathers pointed downward in a shuttlecock-esque manner. From the knees up, the color of the cloth leggings changed to a brilliant vermilion, with the areas around my nether region colored a bright russet.

A plum colored velvet waistcoat descended to my knees, with the same argyle pattern that was on my greaves. To accent the bottom of the waistcoat, a magnificent coil of the plumed feathers, descending downwards in the pattern of green, purple, and red. At the waist, I possessed two belts, one was secure, and had a simple oval buckle. While the other one was loose, and possessed a square buckle. If to add flair, and flower brooch had been placed upon the side of the belt.

The argyle-patterned velvet continued up along my sides, leaving the chest and abdomen to display a magnificent lime-green undershirt, with what looked like a heart shaped chest-piece attached to shirt, however I would not be able to tell the true shape of the chest-piece just yet, as a white jabot was covering the top part of it, along with a brooch similar to the one upon my hip.

From my shoulder-pieces extended more green and purple feathers. The argyle velvet completely covered my arms, and left my hands untouched, a cone of feather were at my elbows, they were long and plentiful on the outside of the joint, but practically non-existent at the joint’s turning point, allowing free movement of my elbows. Finally, my sleeves ended with a small, hollowed cylinder of white-green feathers around my hands.

“You look amazing! Thank goodness Dewey’s old clothes fit you. It’s the middle of winter in Canterlot, and being the skinny ape you are, you’d freeze!”

Oh, please. Cold has no grip on me. The only time I go inside, is if I begin to feel freeze-burn in the vestigial lobes of my ear.

Then, I felt the coup de grâce snap around my neck. A collar, with a leash attached, I had to suppress very violent thoughts at that moment. As much as I might want to strangle her for attaching the collar to me, I could understand where she is coming from. She thinks I am an animal, and is doing what she was told all her life on how to keep a pet safe, and others.

She opened the door, and tugged on the leash. I chose to follow her, as tug of war involving my neck would be rather quite painful. I followed her down the alley that I had run down, who knows how long ago, and out into the street. Ponies and various other races walked about to and fro. Some had dogs, some had the troglodytes they call humans beside them. Some of the ponies would stop, and ogle at me. Most of them mares, for obvious reasons. Not wanting my mind to be within a gutter at that point in time, I simply paid them no mind and continued walking with the Griffon.

She walked up to what I assumed was a bar, and upon a sign were the words. The Laughing Human was written in steel bars. The she-griffon tugged on my leash as she pulled me closer to the doors, and inside the building. The smell of booze, sweat, and probably sex if the upstairs rooms had what I thought in them, assaulted my nostrils. Naturally I flinched, unprepared for the stinging smell of alcohol. Now, walking a very tall human into a bar did attract some attention. I was beginning to get nervous, as several mares looked at me with lust dripping from their eyes. I don’t even want to describe the looks in the stallions eyes, they’d rip my Pixie-Stick off if I tried a move on their mare.

The she-griffon was leaning over the counter, whispering in the bartenders ear. Gesturing with his hoof, we followed him behind the counter. Then down a flight of stairs into the cellar. Tavish Degroot would be proud at the large assortment of alcoholic beverages stored within the cellar. Beer, Wine, Gin, Scotch, Absinthe, Ale, Rum, Whiskey, Vodka, Cider, and the best for last, MEAD! However, they wouldn't let me near the bottles.

“ Heel boy! You don’t want what is in those bottles. We need you to not be presentable, and getting us gold, not glugging it down.”

We were led to an old dusty slot machine, cobwebs enveloped it’s rusted form. Why the bartender would lead this griffon to this obviously broken machine, it-

My train of thought was interrupted as the bartender pulled a lever. Landing a 7/7/7 the slot machine slid away, probably magic, noting the lack of wheels, and seemingly friction-less passage. To show a very small tunnel for me, but perfect for a pony height. I was soon forced into a crouching position, and crawling upon my hands and knees, at one point, I had to get on my belly and crawl. The she-griffon was no different, this passage was difficult to cross, and would delay would be pursuers.

We soon came upon a torch and lantern lit cistern, ponies, griffons, and what look like a blue and yellow dragon. Were sitting in a ramshackle “tavern” that extended into the water basin in the center of the cistern. Upon spotting the she-griffon next to me, a pony shouted out. “ ‘Ello Wind Whistle, haven’t seen you in a bit. How goes the “marketing” ?” He said marketing loosely, implying that it was not marketing, or at the least. Illegally marketing.

“ Wait a minute, I've seen that human before. It’s the one from that news story, the one the guards put up a reward for. Whistle are you going to turn him in yourself, or are you going to offer it to anyone else here ?”

“ No, cutter bags. If you paid attention to it, whoever he belonged to before. Has trained him exceedingly well, if he could steal possessions behind locked safes, and doors. I’m taking him to boss and see if we can’t train him to follow our orders, and train him a few things if possible.”

The so called Cutter Bags spoke up again. “ Well that may be all fine and dandy, but I seriously doubt he’d perform better than some greenhorn we pull in off the streets.” I wanted to slap that smug grin off his drink-sloughed face. However, with a collar tied around my neck, I was powerless to move beyond its length.

“ We’ll have to wait and see about that, cutter. However, if we can train him like I think we can, we might be able to train him for a Human Show. If so, we can bring in a lot of extra revenue from the prize money.”

Cutter replied. “ Point taken, now take him to wherever you were planning to take him.”

Whistler nodded, and pulled suddenly on my leash, causing me to stumble forward. She chuckled at my clumsy display, amused that I was staring intently at “Cutter Bags”. I gave him a huge, creepy, toothy grin and waved. Before I was dragged through a false backboard of a cupboard.

This time, a different cistern greeted my eyes, all around the cistern were various shelves, beds, desks, chests, and barrels. There were 4 different tunnels, 1 lead to a set of locked metal doors, probably a treasury judging by the largeness of the doors, and the dual locks. On the left-hand tunnel, was lit brightly by actual light-bulbs. The smell of food, and the distant drone of chatter resonated down the stone hall.  The right-hand tunnel had various mannequins, both pony and human on the outside. Along with archery targets, light-bulbs suited for fog-lights, swords and daggers. It was my best guess that the area was dedicated to training.

Last but not least, there was the last tunnel, leading downwards. Which Whistle was currently leading me too, this tunnel was torch and lantern lit. The flames casting dancing light that reflected off the moist masonry. Forming sparkling orange droplets of water that dazzled the eyes, and perplexed and simulated the imagination. However, in the words of Sweet Brown “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” As Whistle continued dragging me along. Rather than paying attention to the hall itself, I chose instead to focus upon the light reflected by the moist stone. Missing almost all of the grey-painted wooden doors. They were very well camouflaged, to the untrained and unfocused eye.

However, at the end of the tunnel we came upon a final door, double doors that I might add. Obviously something, or someone important were behind these doors. Whistle slowly opened the door. If it weren't for the dull, monotonous tunnels outside. I would've thought we teleported into a nice home in the wilderness. A warm, bright orange fire roasted in a cobblestone fireplace. Various bits and bobbles of gold, silver, amethyst, sapphires, diamonds, topaz, quartz, rubies, and all mannerisms of valuable materials were displayed upon the walls. Wooden floors of oak graced my soggy feet, the soft wood a huge relief for my stone battered soles. Intricate rugs and draperies of varying design graced the floor and walls. However, there was only 1 more thing I could see in the fire light.

A pony sitting at a desk, a cherry wood desk at that. Puffing a cigar, and a surprised look in his eyes.

“ So Whistle, this is your so called. ‘Human Burglar ?’. “