Bliss in Darkness

Resistance

"Not enough.... not enough.... there." He said as he turned the knife over and over again on the whetstone.

"Just like papa always said... Prepare for the worst and hope for the best..." He recited his daily mantra as he sheathed the freshly sharpened blade. "Only seventeen left to go..."

Humming as he went, he prepared all his knives and swords for their monthly sharpening. Six daggers, three machetes, two broadswords, four stilettos, and his personal favorites, a twenty two inch modern combat blade and an antique katana his father gifted him when he was a young boy.

As far back as he could remember his parents were always preparing for some kind of apocalyptic scenario. Even now, he sat in a safe room designed for only one thing; survival. His multiple knives and swords adorned the walls, as well as his parents collection of rifles, pistols, and small hand cannons. The room was practically a museum of weapons. Amongst his collection of weapons, awards also hung. All of his badges, ranks, and medals from serving in the special forces glinted dimly in the pale fluorescence.

He chuckled as he thought of his parents. They may as well have been figments of his imagination, never existing outside his thirteenth birthday. Sure he remembers his father telling him to never answer the door. His mother reinforcing his childhood fears of the 'boogeymen' that haunted us all. He also remembered their faces as they were dragged off to the asylum, shouting to their son.

Stay inside! Stay safe!

He bit his lip, and broke a fingernail on one of the blades.

After he finished with the normal weapons, he prepared a special whetstone designed specially for his ancient katana. He sighed as he unsheathed the antique Japanese masterpiece. Folded curved steel blade, bamboo hilt wrapped in horsehair. This katana had been thrust into his grandfather during world war two, and he now held it in his hands. A parting gift from one dying warrior to another.

He liked to think that his grandfather used the blade to kill his adversary, but unfortunately the old man died three years before he was born. He would never get the satisfaction of knowing.

The man heard a knock on the door upstairs, which was surprising given the front door was very far from the basement. They must be knocking hard. The knock was fast, and came in triplets. It was a controlled knock, the kind you hear when someone has something very important to say.

"I shouldn't answer that..." The man stated to himself. "Who know's what they could do to me? I don't know who they are."

Never open the door to strangers! I mean it! He remembered the reprimanding.

"James?" He heard a voice call out. "James..." It repeated, as he heard the voice circle around the house, presumably to knock on the back door. The voice was of an older man... very authoritarian. The kind of voice you would expect of a president, a leader. A voice that was wise beyond years.

James made up his mind, he was going to answer the door. Even though he did not know who it was.

***

"Rarity?" Twilight coughed.

"Yes Twilight?"

"Do you hear that?" Twilight whispered, in a near inaudible tone.

"I... I don't know..." Rarity replied, her voice shaky and weak.

Suddenly, as if on cue, several bright lights exploded in luminescence, bathing the mares in unbearably bright light. The two unicorns let out a scream as their eyelids slammed shut, eyes burning from the sudden flash. Twilight was shaking, scared of what might happen next. She prepared her horn to let out a blast of magic... but it failed. Something in the air was negating her abilities, and she could not place a hoof on what it was.

Seconds turned to minutes as the lavender mare's eyes remained glued shut. She could hear metal against metal clanking somewhere outside of the room. The tension was palpable and Twilight was beginning to fear she was going to suffer a heart attack. She waited like that for as long as she could stave off her curiosity; which was not long at all.

She peeked out of her right eye, barely letting any light escape under the lid. Then she opened her left, only slightly. Satisfied that her eyes were getting used to the sudden shocking brightness, she opened them both to half capacity.

"Rarity... I'm going to open my eyes..." Twilight managed to whisper to her companion. Upon hearing no definite response, she lifted her eyelids.

***

"One, two, three, four, five..." James counted the steps. If he wasn't careful, he might have forgotten how many steps there were. In the absolute darkness of the stairwell, forgetting the amount of times you need to lift your feet would end painfully.

After James reached the thirteenth step, he sighed. Ten more to go until he could reach out and feel for a handle in the darkness. This act of walking in complete darkness was almost instinctual, as he had repeated it over one thousand times. His father would yell every time he complained.

If there's lights on, then anyone can just walk down here! We don't want just *anyone** down here!*

His hand felt the doorknob, and turned it. The sunlight burned his eyes slightly, as he exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his short, black, greasy hair. He bit his fingernails, a habit he thought he kicked long ago.

He looked around at the dilapidated structure around him that he called home. Vines grew along most of the windows and dust had settled on most of the furniture and unused walking surfaces. James never felt a need to sit anywhere besides the kitchen table, or the living room. Every other sitting surface looked like it had not been used in years. Why use what is not necessary?

There was still a bit of cake on the kitchen table from the birthday party he held for himself several days ago. It was chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting. His favorite cake in the entire world. It had twenty three candles on it, all of which had burned until there was little left but melted wax mixed with the frosting.

Sighing deeply, James shut the basement door behind him just in time to hear another rapid trio of knocks. Again, knocks that sounded important. Knocks that deeply begged for his attention. His father's voice echoed in his mind, and for a split second he imagined himself getting beaten and killed as soon as he opened that front door.

Recently, he convinced himself that he could go out in public without a hat and glasses on. It was a major milestone, and his therapist even gave him a little gift to commemorate his progress. A small, flat, round stone. Smooth, but not smooth enough to feel like it was manufactured. It still had an earthy, sandy texture, and it was jet black. Not the most luxurious of gifts, but a gift all the same.

Whenever you feel afraid to go outside, rub the stone. Your fears will fade, I promise.

He reached into his pocket, and found the stone. He gripped it and marched towards the front door to greet the intruder. The unknown intruder. That could easily penetrate the safety of his home, and possibly cause him unknown horror.

'C'mon James.... You can do this...' He thought as he gripped the handle of his front door. He took a deep breath, tightened his grip and pulled the door open.

"Hello?" He called out to his unknown visitor. There was nobody in sight. The street was deserted, much how it normally is on a Sunday afternoon.

James let out a groan as he drew the pistol he always carried. Ever since his military training, he has learned the advantages of being armed at all times. He also remembered all the times he was beaten down for forgetting it.

I don't care if this is a peaceful operation, you *always** carry your sidearm!*

Shaking off the old memory, James prowled through his front yard towards the fence on the right side of his house. Tension mounted as he prepared to fire the weapon at what he was sure to be a threat. He raised his weapon to firing position, placed his back against the wall and ran over the plan in his mind. After several seconds, he turned, sidearm at the ready.

"Marshall?"

***

"Twilight? What do you see?" Rarity half whispered, half cried out in fear. The coarse straps on her hooves and stomach were rubbing her skin raw and it was all she could do to prevent herself from wailing.

"I see... Nothing really..." Twilight whispered back.

The room was circular, about twenty feet in diameter. Twilight and Rarity were back to back on two tables, suspended at a forty five degree angle. The room was bathed in the light from several large flood lights suspended under several large plates of glass on the ceiling. The floor was made of thick glass, and was also equipped with flood lights.

The double sided metal door had no windows, and showed no apparent means of opening it. There were no windows of any sort; just the cold, metal walls of the tubular enclosure. There were several black metal tubes affixed to the wall, pointed at the ponies.

"Where are we?" The lavender mare questioned her companion.

"I... I haven't the faintest. One minute I was... I- I can't really remember."

"Wait! Something is coming..."

The metal clanking grew louder as the two mares sat in silence awaiting their fate. They both attempted to charge some kind of magic, but it was useless. All the two mares could do was speculate the horrible end they may come to in this deathly, metal cylinder.

The sound grew louder and louder, until it stopped and was replaced by footsteps. The two mares heard a beep, and the metal door slid open revealing two figures.

They were both humans, like Charlie, but they were not Charlie. One was older, and his mane and face-hair had grown grey from age. He wore a white coat, and slick black gloves. The other was far younger, and had a long black stick protruding above his back. His mane was short and black, and he had no face-hair. His pale blue eyes showed signs of interest as he examined the two mares.

The two figures entered the room slowly, talking in hushed whispers. The older human took his place beside Rarity, and the younger one stood next to Twilight.

"Fascinating." The black haired man whispered.

Twilight only shut her eyes and winced away from him.

"Don't be afraid, little one. We aren't here to hurt you." He cooed.

"Charlie told me all about you. You can't fool me!" Twilight spat, in a sudden act of defiance. The man recoiled in surprise and backed away several feet.

"They can talk?" He raised his voice to the man on the other side of the table.

"Yes, they are fully sentient." Came the response from the grey-maned human.

After an awkward period of silence, the humans met by the door and murmured to one another. Twilight couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but it was clearly some kind of argument. The grey-maned human said something to the door, and it slid open with ease. The black-maned man did not follow, however.

Instead, he elected to resume interrogating Twilight Sparkle. He strode to the center of the room quickly, taking several glances over his right shoulder. Twilight's eyes widened in fear as she realized he was deliberately approaching her. As he reached her table, he knelt down on one knee and looked into her eyes.

"What is your name?"

"..."

"Please, I'm trying to help you! What is your name?"

"Twilight Sparkle." She managed to whisper.

"My name is James. I'll be seeing you again real soon." He said as he got up and turned around on one foot. He strode to the end of the room quickly, and spoke the password. He threw a quick glance at the teary-eyed mare, and let the door close behind him.

***

"That's right. Jack Marshall at your service!"

"Oh um... I apologize, Sir!" James said as he lowered and holstered his firearm. Beads of sweat began to grow on his brow as he looked at his former officer.

"No need to call me Sir, James. Neither of us are enlisted anymore." The man chuckled.

"As you say, Sir. What is the nature of this visit?... If I may ask?" James shifted his eyes to look for any surveillance equipment.

"Of course. I have been working on a... special project and I may need your expertise. Does the name Charles Petersen ring a bell?" The man raised his eyebrow in anticipation.

"Of-Of course... Sir.." James stammered.

"I'm sorry, I know you lost a lot of men in that fight. But we need your help."

"Anything sir." James agreed, a fire burning in his eyes.

"When would you like to start?"

"Now."

Authors Notes: Hey guys, I'm back! Then again, I never really left did I? Hope you enjoyed this little teaser chapter, and "MOAR" shall be on the way!