A nameless monster falls.
Her bleeding body and blank, dying stare, disturbs the sunny, clear skyline view of hundreds of shopping ponies littering the streets below. And the large, silent building behind her ignites in flames, tilts as much as the internal pillars will allow, and shrieks with terror. Windows break as purple smog bellows out into the fine air and the very top of the building, the penthouse she was thrown out of, disintegrates like and as a hastily penned epilogue to the far-concluded love affair of easy money and-
And well, she's not that clever. Sue her.
She likes that easy money and she's not going to speak out of her rear about the end of folks in her line of work. But uh... Damn it all that it was this soon!
The monster is falling too fast. Too slow.
Not a single pegsai or winged thing could reach her. Not with the type of magic used in those explosions. What a way to be done in, by her own hoof-work. Her warm corpse twists and turns as wind drafts pull the air from her lungs, reminding her that she's still not dead. Not yet. But it would be nice if she could bleed out in mid-air.
The main street needs this color. She's doing a service, splattering, colliding with the earth that always hated her.
Cobblestone's closing in.
And there's this kid, this familiar looking kid staring right back at her. Hasn't moved. She'll fall a few inches away from where this kid is standing.
Someone gets to know her last words. She'll give it to this kid. This freakin kid, who's staring at her, this kid no one has pulled away yet. This kid who shouldn't see this.
But the monster is falling too fast, the street is too quick to embrace her, rename her. 'Smear'. 'Road-kill'. But if she's lucky, it will be 'Unidentified earth pony mare'. 'Victim of an unfortunate accident' when her family, her placing bets siblings find what's left of her. And as a nameless monster should be laid to rest, it would be fitting. Yet, she's going to get a name no matter how much she fights against it.
No name on the grave! Maybe, she should have underlined that clause in her will four times, instead of three?
But the monster is falling too slow, her body is sluggish, weak. Her lips barely move. She can't even hear herself speak. If something is heard, she would never know.
It is quicker than she thinks.
First, she was there, alive and falling! And now, she's everywhere, dead. Her body is in one-piece but all of the insides, bit of bone and what was left of the blood that didn't rain from the sky, is everywhere.
But this kid, this kid that didn't move. They're clean. Still staring as if the show isn't over. Not a drop on his deep and endless cloak, sprinkled with symbols and stars.
Wait a minute...
Horns stick out of his hood and the nameless bastard, sighs.
From monster to monster, she does know his name. That monster that shouldn't be here. Or better yet, she shouldn't be here! Shouldn't still be continuing! Do dead things think? After all, her body isn't breathing. She can't feel her heartbeat.
“Death!” the nameless monster shouts. The sound reaches somewhere because then-
“You did not die here.”
And then....
“What is your name?”
“I'm Nameless, Death. Didn't you know? I'm the Nameless Monster. Aren't you happy to catch me, finally? Come on then, take me to oblivion or paradise.”
“What is your name?”
“What is a name? Does a dead thing really need a name? I'm dead now. It doesn't matter what my name was. Do you have a list that needs to be filled out or something?”
“Everything dies.”
“Alrightly, then.”
“You are dead.”
“I swear to Celestia, that you are being obnoxious with me. I can hear it in your monotone, mister! I'd like to think that the thing that took my-”
“Records must be upheld.”
“Rightly so.”
“You did not die here.”
“Huh?”
“You've been lying.”
“But you said that I was dead!”
“You are.”
The nameless monster falls back against the window with a loud thud, clutching at her throat as her blood spurts out. The glass doesn't break. Not this time. And so she slides down on to the white carpet of a room filled with bodies. Most were killed in advance, her work, but a few, the important few, mid-rank bosses from other cities and their jackass tyrant are frozen in betrayal. Of whose, she doesn't know.
The damn unicorn, holding her favorite hook-knife in his magical grip, smug as hell bastard but he spits out white foam all too soon and keels over.
Just like the rest of them.
“You cheated,” he says, writhing in pain.
“You cheated,” she gurgles, and it's all so quick. Her body emptying. She's dripping, gushing everywhere. It's a shame for it to be like this. They can't even talk shit to each other like they used to.
“I know your real name, What-Ever-The-Fuck-You-Call-Yourself-Right-Now.” Oh why couldn't she prepped the tongue dissolving poison mix? She hopes he likes the feeling of his organs shutting down and the agonizing blindness. There's no cure for one of her specialties. He doesn't have long so why couldn't he be quiet and die respectfully.
The bastard crawls forward, vomiting goo and flesh, as he touches her body. His horn twinkles with that purple light she been up and close with more than she'd like and the nameless monster wonders what he's planning to do. He embraces her. There's a loud shring and stench of magic is everywhere. Teleportation magic and it was probably his last act.
Hahaha, his aim was off! What was the bastard trying to do?
The glass is gone and the unicorn bastard curses.
But it's too late and she falls backwards.
“You did not die here.”
“Are we seeing the same thing cause I'm pretty sure I see myself dying here. Would you like to see the scene with that asshole slicing my neck open before I could duck back? Or maybe, we can go forward to when seven city blocks caught on fire on the account of some toxic shit that went off and ponies were dragging my corpse away?!”
“The Nameless Monster died here.”
“So take me away~! To the great escape~!”
“You did not die here.”
“Are you serious? Don't tell me...”
“You are a special case.”
“And let me guess, records must be upheld. Son of a tooting licking whore!”
“What is your name?”
For some reason, she's small and the door knob is too high to reach. Where Death went, she doesn't know but instead of feeling nothing, she's cold. She leans against the door and paws at it with her stubby hooves. She tries yelling out for help or anyone, but she soon quits at hearing the sound of her childish voice. Even though she's dead, she still feels embarrassed.
Celestia, does she feel lied to! She was kinda hoping for the nameless oblivion.
“Welcome home,” that voice, that voice she knows in her heart of hearts. Her knees quake skittishly and butterflies, swarming her belly with fear and pleasure, tickle her so. But how would anyone react to- “Kiddo. Whatcha standing there for? Come're!”
“Papa!” And she runs to him. Giggling. Smiling. Her face hurts but Celestia damned if it's not the right sort of pain. When they touch, it would be completely wonderful if she could just ignore his drifting body and faint, unfamiliar smell of something sweet and sticky. A soft chill drifts passes the both of them and even though she's holding on to him with everything she's got, she's still cold.
Was this it? The place after death was a hollow world full of half shades? How unsatisfying.
“Papa,” she sniffles. “I don't like this. I don't like this place at all.”
“Don't worry. Why don't you tell me a story? I want to know what you've been up to.”
“I've been a very naughty pony most of my life. Did you know?” she whispers, “Did you see?”
“I'm sure you only gave back what was dished out. You're not a child anymore and so I'm not going to judge you on what you did after my death. All of my kids did well no matter what career they chose themselves. So you've decided to be a...erm...rogue of all trades. At least it was exciting, I hope.”
“Papa, can you say my name before we begin? Pretty please. You promised!” And then Papa died, a long, long time ago when she was still so small, taking her name with him.
“Hello Kaleido, my darling baby girl.”
"I avenged you, Papa. I gave'em hell. Got my talent and everything!"
