***Ten Years Ago...***
CRASH!
Pinkie Pie jolted up at the noise, shaking her head as she awoke from her sleep. She was having a good dream, too, one with lots of sprinkles and candy and laughing-
Another crash derailed her train of thought. It sounded as though it had come from downstairs. But who could be downstairs? Sugar Cube Corner was closed at this time of night!
Stumbling out of her bed, Pinkie Pie shuffles to her door, swinging it open lazily.
It was probably Pound, he’d been sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night lately to try and snag a cookie or two while the rest of the house was asleep. Pinkie Pie stumbled along past the twins’ closed bedroom door, making her way groggily down the stairs. As soon as her hoof made contact with the top step, echoing out a sharp clopping sound, she heard the shrill raking of cracking glass, tinkling after impact.
Now she was awake. There was no way that had been Pound.
She rushed down the stairs in a hurry, almost falling on her face as she took in what lay before her.
Ransacked.
That was the only word that accurately described what had happened. The window in the kitchen was shattered, one of the panes completely missing, with the lock busted clean off. Cold chills blew inside Sugar Cube Corner, sending an ominous gust of wind inside. The cold wind blew an icy gust, making Pinkie Pie shiver down to her bones.
A sharp creak made the mare freeze in place. Slowly, she reached into her mane and pulled out a long steel baseball bat, the smooth surface glinting in the low light. She spun around, but there was nopony there.
Whoever had broke in was long gone now.
Groaning, she let go of the bat, letting it drop to the floor. Pinkie flipped the light switch, wincing as she saw just how bad the house was looking. She looked over the pantry, hardly believing her eyes.
“They even stole the cookie jar!” she spat bitterly. Who steals a cookie jar, who does that?!
She then mentally berated herself. Her home had been broken into! This was no time to worry about stolen cookie jars, she had to contact the police, make sure any and all valuables were secure, check on the twi-
Pinkie yelped as a sharp pain flushed through her right hoof. Her eyes went wide.
“Right hoof cramp- RIGHT HOOF CRAMP!” she wailed as she raced up the stairs on her hobbled appendage. She knew exactly what the sign meant, but she had to see it with her eyes for her to believe it.
She made a beeline for the twins’ room. Pumpkin was asleep peacefully in her bed, her head barely poking out from beneath the covers.
Pinkie Pie wanted to let out a breath of relief, but it was instead caught in her throat as she cast her eyes to the other side of the room.
Pound’s bed was empty.
“POUND CAKE!” she screamed, racing around frantically. The little pegasus did not respond. Pinkie's heart rate spiked.
She looked in every nook and cranny she could think of. The toy chest, the bathtub, the drawers in the pantry, everywhere.
Pound was gone.
By now, Pumpkin had woke up from all of the noise her adoptive mother had been making.
“Awntie…” she mumbled sleepily.
Pinkie Pie felt her blood run cold as she turned to see the groggy unicorn appear outside of her bedroom door.
“Awntie,” Pumpkin repeated, her speech slow and sluggish. “What’re you shouting about..?”
Pinkie Pie gulped. She once had to tell the little filly that she’d lost two of the most important ponies in her life. Pinkie truly did NOT want to do that again.
But that was exactly what she had to do.
“Pumpkin, sweetie…” Pinkie started slowly before her voice cracked on her, tears streaming down her face. A cold wind blew through the broken window, biting at the moisture running along her cheeks.
“Your brother is… is gone…”
As soon as the words left her lips, another set of tears joined her.
“G-gone?” Pumpkin gasped.
Pinkie Pie nodded, pulling her daughter close into a crippling hug, one that she wouldn't relinquish until her friends arrived to help her sort it out with the police.
One she would never relinquish.
* * *
Ponyville was a quiet town, a simple town. Besides the occasional national criminal, parasprite invasion, mythical creatures, begrudging individuals, Princess shenanigans and the sort, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened there.
That also went for crime. Theft was almost unheard of past the occasional pick-pocketing in the market by foalish children, and more times than not the item was returned. In fact, most of the doors were left unlocked throughout the town, with only the larger goods stores keeping their doors locked. After all, the town only had a single locksmith, and he was kept far more busy as an amateur craftspony than he was at making locks. Simple sliding catches, he could craft hundreds of those in a day, all he needed was a few sheets and pins of brass.
No, Ponyville did not see crime on the same level as the larger cities of Manehatten and Baltimare. Crime, however, did not seem to mind this time, as the thief in the night left no signs.
“You saw nothin’ at all?” Applejack asked a hysterical Pinkie Pie. The heartbroken mare shook her head as her friend and possible relative stroked her side comfortingly.
“N-No! I just heard a sound and wanted to see if it was the tooth fairy, cuz Pumpkin lost her tooth the other week and we’ve been waiting for over a week and I promised her the tooth fairy would come and give her a bit for her tooth but the tooth fairy hasn’t showed up yet and I was getting worried and Pumpkin was getting upset so- I’M A HORRIBLE MOTHER!!!”
With that, Pinkie Pie erupted into a mess of waterworks, clutching at the orange mare sitting next to her. Applejack took it in good stride, rubbing a caring hoof along Pinkie’s back.
“Shhh, it’s gonna be alright sugarcube, shhh…”
Pinkie Pie sniffled hard against the mare. A short distance away, the young princess Twilight Sparkle was growing frustrated with the investigations team.
“Surely you can find something about who did this!” she argued.
The green pony in charge of the case snorted for what must have been the fiftieth time in the past hour.
“Like I told you, princess, we got nothing. A couple cooking supplies, a bag of flour, and one missing colt. If the colt was any older, I’d have put my bits on him jumping to coop, we have that little to work with.”
“Then what do you have to work with?!” Twilight practically shouted, hyperventilating slightly. “My best friend’s foal was ABDUCTED!”
“Ma’am, we have jack shit, to put it bluntly. No hoofprints, no stray hairs, nothing at any of the three houses broken into tonight. Whoever did this was a professional, for sure.”
“This can’t be happening,” Twilight muttered as she let her face fall into her hoof.
The police pony sighed, trying to sympathize for the loss at hoof. “Look, ma'am, we just don't have any leads to go off. Nothing links any of the other houses together as is, we're walking on nails to even suggest the same pony hit all three houses so quickly. A few charms and crafts from some thrift shop, a couple statuettes and collectibles from your friend's neighbor, and random cooking and food storage appliances here. It's all random, and we can't work with random. I'm sorry.”
Over the chatter of multiple investigators, Pinkie Pie’s distraught wails drowned out the night.
Further Regrets
Digital_Hex
DeluxeMagnum69
Many miles away…
A soft breeze rolled through the trees as the moon provided the night with a brilliant wash of blue, lighting up the sky above the forest with a soft glow. The air was cool, but not cold; pleasant was a word one might have used to describe it. However, whether or not the air was pleasant or not was the furthest thing from the mind of a certain stallion who stole his way through the shadows provided by the towering trees that created the forest.
The wiry stallion eventually stopped, wheezing and huffing to himself.
“Three hours, that should put plenty of distance between us now,” he muttered, letting the sack he was carrying fall to the ground. The night sky cast a cold blue glow over the small clearing he’d found himself in.
“Heh, and momma always told me I wouldn’t amount to anything,” the stallion chuckled to himself before coughing violently, bringing a hoof up to his mouth. As he took it away, he wasn’t surprised in the least to see that the light charcoal coat of his was speckled with fresh blood.
He sighed before letting his rump drop to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to feel the exhaustion of the day catch up with him. The small bag of bits he used for simple things dangled from around his neck, making a light clinking sound. Even with that quiet annoyance, though-
“Three houses, and not a single one of them had a clue,” he snickered to himself as he undid the top to his bulging burlap bag, full of stolen goodies. “You done good tonight, Sleight. you done good.”
As he finally loosened the knot at the top of the bag enough, the topmost contents spilled to the grassy ground around him. Porcelain statuettes, silver and steel utensils, anything that could catch at least a few bits at a shady market.
The moonlight lit up a small charm bracelet, with small silver pendants and obsidian beads strung about in a loop. He picked it up, admiring it as it sparkled, almost glowed.
“With this,” Sleight of Hoof muttered, “surely they couldn’t turn me down again, right?”
He coughed again, opting to simply wipe the blood on the side of his hide.
“No, they wouldn’t turn down a pony that could pay, the selfish, greedy bastards…”
He sighed, rubbing his temple with a hoof. The black night swept away his thoughts for a moment, gazing at the beautiful stars that twinkled bright like diamonds. He felt his eyes grow soft, eliciting a small chuckle from the grizzled stallion.
“Ah, if only I could find some diamonds, then they wouldn't turn away an old coot in need-”
He immediately snickered. “Look at me, calling myself old! I'm hardly halfway through my twenties, I should be in the prime of my life! Hnk-”
He started coughing again. This time, he didn't want to check his hoof. He knew what it would reveal.
What it always revealed.
“Oh well, Sleight, oh we-”
Mumble-grumble...
Sleight jolted and dropped the bracelet, looking around. He could have sworn he'd heard some sort of sound, a quiet mumbling of sorts. Almost like the incoherent babbling of a-
Sleight laughed aloud, rubbing his forehead with a tired hoof.
“What are you imagining, boy, you're more tired than you thought!”
“H-Hewwo?”**
Sleight froze, his blood running cold. That was definitely the sound of a young foal, most likely waking up. That meant one must have wandered into his bag while he was cleaning house earlier!
The stallion jumped at his bag, emptying the sack in a fitful attempt to find the foal he knew hid amongst his things.
He could hear a soft whimpering now. The child was getting scared.
“W-Whewe am I?”
The way he spoke, it almost sounded as if he was trapped in a small container-
Sleight's eye latched on to it at last; a porcelain cookie jar. Grasping it in his hooves and tearing the top off, he let out a silent breath.
A very young colt's head poked out from within, the foal barely fitting inside of the jar.
“W-Whewe am I?” the colt asked again, tears growing in his eyes.
Sleight began to panic again. He wasn't supposed to have taken the foal with him, this was borderline abduction- nay, this qualified as abduction, plain and simple!
But still- how was he supposed to know their was a foal curled up inside the rather expensive-looking jar!? While on the topic, how did he even fit in there? The jar wasn't that big-
“Mistuh, whewe am I?”
The colt was blinking back tears, terrified. All he knew was that one moment he had been snacking away on forbidden goods, when he felt the jar being lifted. At first he thought it was his mom, Auntie Pinkie, and he made sure to be super quiet, lest he be discovered. But then he began softly bobbing, and the next thing he knew he was waking up to this stallion in the dark forest.
“Whewe am I?!” Pound Cake repeated, loudly. He began hiccuping as he started to cry, sobbing quietly to himself. He was scared.
Sleight was flat-out panicking now. What was he supposed to tell the little foal, that he'd abducted him?! You don''t tell that to foals you technically abducted! No, he needed to come up with a plan, and fast!
“Qu-Quiet down, there, champ!” he tried, attempting to pull the small foal out of the jar. With a simple POP!, he separated the two, although the precious jar flung a small distance away, cracking loudly against the ground. Sleight felt a small whimper escape him at the loss of a few pretty bits, but was quickly interrupted by the sniffling pegasus before him. It looked as though he were about to resume crying.
“Hey, hey, little guy,” Sleight tried to talk to the foal. The pegasus whimpered loudly.
“Whewe's ma mommy? I wanna go home-me!”
Sleight face-hoofed as the waterworks started again.
“This foal is starting to get on my nerves,” he grimaced to himself. Perhaps if he just hit the foal upside the head hard enough, he could gather his stuff and leave-
Sleight felt his heart jolt at the very thought of what just passed through his mind.
“What am I thinking?!” Sleight snapped at himself, chastising his very being for daring to stoop that low. “I may be a thief, but that... that is stooping far too low, to do something like that-”
He paused as he realized the foal had stopped crying for the moment, listening in on what was being whispered. Sleight smiled innocently before slapping himself across the face.
Get a grip, Sleight. We don't need to resort to violence here. You know there's a town a little over a day away from here; just take him there and drop him off. Surely he'll gather enough attention that he'll be fine, no need to... to beat him up!”
Sleight shuddered at what he had even dared think.
“No, you will not be like your father, that damn arse...”
Sleight sighed. He hated thinking rationally, but it always did solve problems faster than panicking. He returned his gaze to the scared little pegasus before him.
“Sorry there, squirt. What's your name?”
Pound Cake blinked looking away before voicing his mind.
“Momma towd me not ta tawk ta stwangews...”
Sleight winced. He needed to convince the foal he wasn't a stranger?!
“I'm trying to HELP YOU, you damn fool! Why, I- No. Calm the buck down. He's just a scared foal, kind of like you were...”
Sleight sighed, rubbing his neck. He wasn't a god pony, for obvious reasons, but... he could try and have his moments, at least when he muffed up as bad as he had.
But then an idea passed through his mind, a somewhat evil idea, but a way to get the foal to speak to him.
“But you just talked to me then! Maybe I should tell her-”
Instantly, the pegasus jumped up, pressing a hoof against him.
“NO! I'm sowwy! Just pweez don't teww hew I bwoke da wule!”
Sleight smirked. He had the colt now.
“Alright then, if you don't me tattling on you, then I need you to calm down.”
Reluctantly, Pound wiped a forehoof against his face, cleaning away most of the tears. He plopped down onto his haunches, looking up at the charcoal-coated stallion before him. The older colt's eyes flashed a steely blue as they sized each other up.
Sleight of Hoof ran a hoof through his long silvering mane as he gazed down at the tan pegasus sitting in front of him. The little colt's eyes and mane were a dark fudge, messy but nothing too wild.
“What am I going to do with him, just leave him all alone in the town? Then I'd be no better than my old man... But what are you going to do, take care of the foal your whole life, raise him like your own? Heh, there's a laugh.”
Sighing, Sleight rose to his hooves. Pound mimicked the larger earth pony.
Sleight noticed this, smirking. He could remember the days when there was somepony he could look up to. Okay, so maybe the kid was literally looking up to him and there was nothing to read between the lines, but it was a warm memory all the same.
“Come on, it's just to the next town, just over a day. Then you just drop him off in front of the police station, they'll find his parents... right?”
Sleight snorted. Since when did the police ever actually do their jobs? His continued existence was proof against such a concept.
But maybe...
“It's... worth a shot. The last thing I want to do is let the kid get eaten out here, or wander back on his own and go blabbing to the cops... especially the latter, yeesh...”
Sleight stuck out a hoof to the kid, who looked at it curiously.
“My name's Sleight of Hoof. What's yours, squirt?”
“Pound Cake,” Pound replied as he cautiously lifted his own hoof up to Sleight's before bumping it ever so slightly, ready to recoil should Sleight react.
The earth pony snickered to himself.
“Kind can't be any older than a toddler! This should be easy.”
“Uh, mista?” Pound asked innocently, “why awe we out hewe?”
“Thought too soon. Damn brat.”
Sleight bit his lip, trying to think up a lie plausible enough to satisfy the little colt. He thought and thought, but only one idea came to mind, one he had been told when he was just a little older than the pegasus. It was cruel, but it could buy Sleight more time.
“Uh, well you see, I... your momma told me you were a bad little colt, so she had me take you away to learn to behave.”
Pound immediately burst into tears. Sleight groaned to himself.
“Idiot, why the Hell would you think that would work?! That's a horrible thing to say to such a little colt, you're probably going to be the reason he needs therapy when he grows up!”
Pound continued bawling loudly.
“B-But I'm a g-g-good c-c-colt!!! Waaah!!!”
Sleight face-hoofed. Again.
“L-Look, Pound, we're just gonna take a little walk, and then the boys in blue will bring you home to your momma, okay?”
Pound kept on crying. Groaning, Sleight looked around desperately for something smack the colt with. He was well past his limit. Instead, he saw the bracelet he'd dropped. Muttering something, he used every sense of self-restraint he had to simply pick up the bracelet and shove it over the colt's hoof.
“Look, shiny!”
Pound stopped crying, growing interested at the charm around his hoof. Sleight was just glad that he'd stopped crying.
“Okay, here's the plan. We go to the next town, and then you can go back to your momma. Deal?”
Pound whimpered, but quickly struggled to keep his tears in check. He nodded.
“And quit with that crying business, it's not gonna do you any good. Trust me.”
Pound rubbed at his eyes again, drying his cheeks. Sleight started packing all of the goods he'd nabbed back into his bag. As he passed by the cookie jar, he winced to see a large crack running along the side. It wasn't worth anything anymore, that's for sure.
As he finished shoving the last of the valuables into the bulging bag, he felt Pound poke him in the side. He turned to see the colt was rather well composed now. Perhaps he took the hint to heart.
“Mista... did my mom weally want you to take me away?”
Sleight groaned silently to himself. This was a bad hole to start digging himself into, but he'd already gone this far. The last thing he wanted to do was have his whole plan collapse around him and end up where he started.
“Totes. But if you're good during our walk and keep yer trap shut, I'll pass on a good word to her. Deal?”
He offered his hoof to Pound again. Pound met his with his own, a determined look on his face.
“Oh look Sleight, you're traumatizing the poor kid. He's never gonna be right in the head now.”
Ignoring his inner demons, Sleight of Hoof set off with Pound Cake in tow, heading towards a small town he knew was somewhere outside of the forest.
“Hey, isn't that the same town my brother lives in? Maybe I should pay him a visit... What's it been, six years, seven? Too long to be away from family.”
* * *
The two followed the cold path that cut around the Foal Mountains in silence. Surprisingly enough to Sleight of Hoof, Pound hadn't said a peep the entire time, remaining quiet. In the setting sunlight, though, he could see that the colt was obviously exhausted from all of the walking they'd done for the past day; he was thoroughly shocked that the colt wasn't yammering and complaining about his hooves hurting or being thirsty.
“So, Pound, your hooves hurt yet?” he offered, trying to at least make small talk with the kid. He'd enjoyed the silence, but now it was just getting a little creepy. Kids were supposed to have boundless amounts of energy, not be mute robots all day-
“Yes,” Pound replied, voice void of emotion.
“Oh,” Sleight coughed. “Why, uh, why didn't ya’ just say something, then?”
“You towd me ta keep my twap shut. So I am.”
Sleight had to admire the kid's dedication. At least he knew how to follow orders. Still, he didn't want the foal's young hooves to end up shredded and bleeding.
“Hey, you've been walking a while, how come you don't just flap them wings a little, take the pressure off?”
Pound looked at his wings comfortably folded against his back, and then shrugged.
“Momma towd me not ta fwy unwess she said I could,” he tried to explain, but there was really no other justification past that.
Sleight rolled his eyes.
“But do you want to fly right now, get off your hooves for a little bit?”
Pound looked away, slightly guilty, before nodding.
“Y-Yes...”
The older stallion laughed. “Then go ahead, flap away by all means. Always take advantage of your natural gifts!”
Pound looked around, almost as though he were expecting his mother to jump out of the woods and chastise him. Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen, however, so he unfolded his wings and gave a mighty flap.
Slowly, Pound rose shakily into the air, until he was a solid pace and a half off of the ground. He evened his path out easy enough, keeping pace alongside Sleight of Hoof.
Sleight was rather impressed.
“Whoa kid, you're pretty good for such a little guy. Most pegasi I know aren't able to fly that good until they're, like, seven or so. How old are ya, anyways?”
Pound looked as though he was about to argue that he couldn't answer that, but instead he decided to answer the stallion.
“I'm awmost fowr,” he revealed.
“And you still talk like that?” Sleight asked, confused.
Pound blushed furiously, looking away. “I'm wowking on it,” he said quietly.
Sleight opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short as he began to hear the soft chatter of civilization. They were close to the town.
Sleight looked around before spotting a dead tree with a hollowed stump, a perfect hiding spot. He trotted over and slung his pack into the whole.
Pound Cake cocked an eyebrow as he saw Sleight growl at the bulging bag as it refused to slip away. The older stallion punched it with a hoof, pushing mightily until it disappeared into the stump, only a small patch of fabric visible. Sleight fixed that quickly by tossing a dead branch over the hole in the stump, leaving the scene completely inconspicuous. Nopony could have guessed there was nearly a thousand bits of stolen goods crammed into the rotten oak.
Sleight turned to see Pound still looking at him in a mixture between confusion and concern, smiling gently at the boy.
“Didn't want to, ah, lose the bag in town. Too many memories in here.”
“Yeah, good thing none of them are yours.”
Pound seemed to accept this excuse, and went with Sleight as they trotted a good distance until they broke through the tree line onto a quaint cobblestone path. To the left were a small gathering of houses, to the right a small marker area and a brook. Straight ahead led into the heart of the town.
Sleight sighed. “Alright, little guy, let's go find the police station and get you home.”
Pound let himself smile. He wanted to go home. He promised to be a good colt when he returned.
As the two set off down the path, Sleight couldn't help but admire the goods displayed in the windows of some of the stores. He quickly realized that there were quite the number of large glass window displays along many of the store fronts, showing off fancy trinkets and spiffy uniforms. Many of the shops were still open, most likely for at least another hour or so.
Sleight let himself sigh as they passed by a store that specialized in sensual lingerie. Pound thankfully was looking the other way.
“Ah, I missed Hope Hill. Almost forgot all of this.”
Pound paused as they passed by a toy store, trying to catch a fleeting glimpse at a bright red toy train circling a set of tracks. Sleight noticed this, slowing down as well. He looked up at the sky; they'd made much better time than he'd expected, the sun was still hanging lazily over the mountains in the distance.
“Eh, why not let the kid look at the toys. He'll be out of your mane soon enough.”
“Hey,” Sleight said as he tapped a hoof against Pound. Pound jerked his attention away from the train in the window to Sleight.
“Did you wanna go in and look? I could... go scrounge us up a bite to eat or something.”
Pound's face split into a wide grin before he began nodding furiously. Not a second later, Pound was inside the store, admiring the toy collection inside.
Sleight laughed. He could remember when he used to get just as excited as the little colt over toy trains and army colts.
“Those were the days,” he droned lazily as his nose caught a pleasant scent. He followed the delicious aroma to a small corner store, many loaves of bread laying along racks. He sniffed again, and then upon further inspection realized they had cheese baked into them. Delicious!
Fishing around in the bits pouch around his neck, Sleight purchased one of the cheesier rolls, opting to split it in half and bag up the part for Pound. As he bit into his half, it initially tasted rather sour due to having costed him NINE WHOLE BITS, but after munching away he happily had to admit that for the moment, it was worth it. He wished he'd had the hindsight to at least tried to steal it. Maybe then he wouldn't be regretting the harsh loss.
However, his mind was elsewhere as he trotted along the cobbled road.
“That kid is weird. Like, really weird, even for me. He hasn't argued with me once the whole time, does he even actually realize I technically foal-napped him!?”
Sleight thought for a second as he tore into another warm bite of the cheese bread.
“Nah, I don't think he actually does. He must be really scared of what his mom would do if I blabbed to her. Hah. Like I'd be doing any blabbing. Good riddance if I ever see the kid again-”
Sleight of Hoof paused as he neared the toy shop. Through the window, he could see Pound admiring the train, tapping against it gently, completely enthralled with the toy.
Innocence.
That's what Pound reminded Sleight of. His innocence.
Sleight's face slowly fell into one of downcast. He could remember when he had to same innocence as Pound, but... that was a long time ago.
“Back when mom actually cared, back when I actually knew dad, back before life happened... Why did life have to happen...”
Sleight sniffled, only to blink rather surprised as he felt a tear crawl down his cheek. When did he start crying?!
A small hoof prodded Sleight, taking his attention away.
“Mista Sleight?” Pound said, looking up with concern at the pony before him.
“How did he get out here so quickly?!”
“Hm? Yeah?” Sleight asked Pound as he rubbed away his young tears.
“Why awe you sad? Did I do sometin' wong?”
Sleight shook his head, chuckling as he ruffled Pound's mane with his hoof. Pound giggled at the gesture.
“Naw, kid, you didn't do anything wrong.”
“Not like me,” Sleight thought bitterly to himself. Shaking his head, the stallion gave Pound his half of the roll.
“Here, thought you might like this. We haven't eaten all-”
CHOMP!
“-day...” Sleight finished in pure shock. Pound just looked back innocently with a few gooey crumbs of bread clinging around his lips, paper caught between his hoof and the ground.
“Note to self: in case you accidentally foalnap again, don't forget to feed the foal.”
“Okaaay...” Sleight said loudly as he shook his head again. He was still tired from the day before, and the lack of sleep was hurting him. He noticed that as he did this, Pound yawned loudly in front if him.
“Alright little buddy,” Sleight said as he scooped up Pound and placed him on his back, “Let's work on getting you hom-”
Sleight froze as a pony emerged from a clothing shop only two buildings down from where he was.
A pony with a blue cap and a badge.
A pony that knew exactly who Sleight of Hoof was.
“Shit.”
Sleight scuttled into the toystore as fast as he could, barely making it through the door before the police pony turned to face exactly where he'd been.
The police pony cocked his head. He could've sworn he'd seen...
“Nah,” the pony laughed. “No way he'd be back here of all places.”
With that, the pony began trotting along.
Sleight, on the other hoof, was in quite the bind. At any moment, the police pony was going to pass by the window and see the criminal standing there, clear as day. The entire store was open to the window; there was nowhere to hide.
He felt a gentle tugging from Pound behind him.
“This way,” Pound whispered as he motioned for Sleight to stoop low to the ground. Sleight dropped down, crawling along with Pound as he trailed behind a small group of foals.
A moment later, the police pony passed by, taking a short glance into the window as he trotted along the road. Another moment later, he was gone.
Sleight let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Pound patted him on the back.
“You don't wike da cops, do you?” Pound asked.
Sleight let out a hoarse laugh.
“You're quite attentive, aren't ya?” Sleight asked. Pound nodded. “What gave it away?”
Pound ushered for Sleight to stand back up now that the coast was clear.
“As soon as da cop came out o' da buiwding, you wushed in hewe. Dat's a pwetty cwear sign ta me.”
Sleight ruffled Pound's mane again.
“Yeah, me and the cops here don't exactly... get along.”
“This is going to make it hard to just drop him off at the police station if the police here know you.”
Sleight stroked his chin with his hoof.
“I could always stop in with my brother, see if he could bring him to the station. He's clean as a whistle with the blue, he could just say the colt ran away and no questions!”
Sleight nodded at the idea he'd come up with, starting to trot out the door. “Come on, Pound, we're gonna go meet somepony.”
Pound rushed to keep up with the stallion, opting to use his wings again. He fluttered along next to Sleight of Hoof.
“Who's dat?”
Sleight started trotting down the road, looking left and right for more cops. The coast was clear.
“My brother.”
* * *
The two finally made it to the small row of houses along the outskirts of town. Sleight had it lucky; he hadn't ran into a single other cop. Maybe it was his lucky day.
Now, before him stood his brother's house, a rather luxurious two-story structure painted the same dark brown as the other houses. Sleight gagged in response to the uniformity. A light was on upstairs, a warm orange glow visible through one of the windows.
“Alright, let's get this over with,” Sleight groaned to himself.
“Oh hey bro, been a few years. Don't mind me, arriving unannounced on your doorstep with a foal I technically abducted, we just need to hide from our friends the cops until I can sneak out again so I can bring this colt home. Yep. This'll go over so well.” Sleight groaned again. He really wished he'd thought this through a little more during the hike through the mountains.
The pair made their way to the front door. Sleight raised his hoof and knocked briskly on the door, hoping it would open quickly so he could slip in before he was spotted by any cops.
It did open, but not quite as he was expecting. It fell directly backwards, the hinges clearly torn from their fittings.
“Shit,” Sleight muttered to himself. He knew his brother was a high-risk pony, but this had a bad smell to it.
He jumped in, looking around. The first he noticed was that there were no lights on. It wasn't very unusual, but the darkness was a little ominous and frankly a little creepy, especially when he saw from outside that there was a light on.
Then he smelled it. It hit his nose sharply, a warm crackling aroma he could place to campfires and arson. This was not a place he wanted to recognize as a campfire or arson.
Smoke. The room was absolutely rolling in smoke, drifting down the stairs in thick black rolls.
Sleight felt his heart seize with an icy lurch. He knew his brother was caught up with dangerous ponies, but this?!
He tried connecting the dots. The front door was obviously busted down earlier, and now there was smoke, heck the light he saw earlier was probably from a fire upstairs.
“Brilliant.”
“LOW KEY!” Sleight screamed as he raced up the stairs, abandoning the terrified pegasus in the entryway.
Pound cowered. The room reeked of a putrid stench of burning wood and- was that charred flesh?! The little colt rubbed at his nose, about to race outside, when he heard a sound he found most curious.
He heard the crying of another foal.
“I can't weave anypony in hewe by demsewf!” he thought to himself.
“H-Hewwo?” he called out as he ventured towards the noise, dropping to his hooves as he moved from the entryway deeper into the house, into the living room. Off from the living room was the kitchen and two doors; one was bashed in to reveal a broken restroom, the other was cracked open slightly to a dark, dark room.
Pound made his way slowly towards the latter, noticing the sniffling sobs getting louder and louder. Rearing up on his hind legs, Pound pushed the door gently open, and felt a multitude of triggers overwhelm his senses. Prime above them all was fear.
A small green earth pony colt was cowering in the center of the room, runic marks of blood painted on his face and through his dark brown mane. He was the one whimpering and crying. Beside him lay a dead mare, her light gray coat covered in sharp, deep gouges that still were leaking cold blood. The putrid stench of decaying flesh was foul, very foul, leaving a sharp iron tang that clung to one's hide like a sticky fog, even though the air in the room was ice cold.
But it was the... the thing, that hunched over the tiny pony that terrified Pound so, paralyzed him with fear.
In the darkness, all he could see was a shadow, a huge jagged mess of black and darkness. Two red gashes blinked at him like demented eyes, staring into the depths of Pound's very being. Eyes that seemed to drain the energy from Pound the longer he stood there.
The giant monster turned from the traumatized colt coated in his mother's blood to begin approaching Pound, still frozen in fear.
“Move, Pound.”
The beast stepped closer, a sharp CLUNK echoing as a huge pincer pulled it forward.
”Pound, you need ta move. You need ta fwee. Now.”
But Pound couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried. All he could do was cower as the shadow moved closer... and closer...
Until it now towered over him, like a massive storm of nightmares. Pound's blood was running cold as ice, his legs weak. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and raw.
This was what true terror felt like for the colt.
The beast reached out with a spiny claw, as if to grab the foal. Pound instinctively closed his eyes, waiting for the sharp tendrils to grab him, hurt him, tear him apart-
SHZZZZZ-
The beast shuddered before falling back. Pound blinked as his hoof suddenly felt very, very warm. He looked down to see the small charm bracelet Sleight had slipped over his hoof the day before, glowing a ghostly white.
As he watched it, though, he saw thin tendrils being torn from the demon, into the charms. As the narrow streams of darkness made contact with the glistening runes, Pound felt a sharp fiery pain shoot along his nerves, the bracelet burning him upon contact. Pound yelped and tried to pry it off, but it refused to slip off, instead seeming to tighten as it tore more and more of the creature apart.
A sharp howl filled the room, the pained screams of the shadow figure as it was shredded apart, being sucked into the gem. With a harsh cry like scraping steel, it jumped at Pound, as though to tackle him. Pound flinched back, expecting recoil, but with a mighty sizzling sound the demon spat out a thick gooey blackness over Pound before being completely absorbed into the charm with a sickening POP!
As soon as it began, it was over. Silence returned, the bracelet cooled down. Pound gasped as he pried the bracelet off, throwing it off. His foreleg had a thin burn scar circling it, but there was no sign of the shadow, the demon, beyond the sludge it had vomited over Pound. He coughed as some of it got into his mouth, the taste vile and rancid.
“Pound?!” Sleight called from upstairs.
Pound wiped the sludge from his eyes to see the poor green colt still cowering where he stood, many small cuts spread across his form. He was bleeding from many of them.
“Sweight! Downstaiws, we need hewp!” Pound screamed out before rushing over to the colt's side, trying to wipe some of the blood away.
Sleight skittered down, crashing into the room before looking away, the smell of the long-dead mare making him nauseated.
“Pound, did you see-” he started, but froze when he saw the small colt shivering in the grasp of Pound. He couldn't have been much older than six years or so at the time. That would have made sense, as Sleight hadn't recalled Low Key even of having a mate the last time he'd seen his late brother. He worked quickly, though, it seemed.
“Oh... my...” Sleight whispered, rushing over to the foals.
“I reckon it'd be a stupid question to ask if you were alright,” Sleight rationalized.
He pulled the foal close, trying to wipe away the blood from the foal. Some of it was fresh and slid off like a bitter sludge, the rest had already began drying and caught in the foal's hair. Pound meanwhile finished wiping the thick ooze from him, watching it slosh to the floor and fizzle away, disappearing in a misty flame. Once he was sure that he was cleared of the nasty bile, he trotted slowly towards the charm bracelet he'd thrown.
It was cool now, without a sign of what it had done. Pound knew it was special, though. It had to be. It'd saved him. He cautiously slipped it back onto his hoof, half-expecting it to start burning again.
It didn't.
Sleight of Hoof surveyed the scene. Blood had been used like paint to draw demonic symbols all over the room, with a circle right in the middle where the foal had been standing. The foal's mother was dead, still bleeding the last of her essence all over the floor. Low Key was upstairs in his room, body charred to a crisp along with half of the room he slept in.
On the wall of the room, though, was a symbol far more impressive than the rest littering the room. It was a sharp V, with a ragged arrow pointing straight up from the axis point. Two short lines extended from each arm of the V, perpendicular to the planes they grew from and equidistant from each other and reaching out.
Sleight didn't know what the symbol meant, but he knew that if he could figure out what it was, he would understand more of what happened here. Because right, it was all madness.
All he knew was that his brother had been murdered, and that he now had another terrified colt to watch after.
A colt he would watch over. He hadn't seen Low Key in a while, but he was his little brother; nopony killed his little brother and got away with it. Nopony.
Sleight could feel the evil presence leaving the room. Whatever had done this was gone now.
He pulled the two little colts out of the house, taking off into the woods nearby. He knew what happened to colts who survived this; they were interrogated by the police before being thrust into orphanages, without another care in the world.
Sleight was not going to let that happen to his nephew. Not after what he had to witness. There was no therapy for that, not now and not ever.
“What's your name, little guy?” Sleight asked the colt after they had made good distance from the town. Already he could hear the alarm of emergency services in the background, far away. Sleight checked over the colt again for injuries, satisfied to see that beyond the superficial cuts, he was fine.
“N-Narrow,” the green foal responded. He was leaning on Pound, who desperately tried to keep him standing. The foal was tired, very tired, but he was fine.
“I'm going to find who did this to you,” Sleight promised.
As the sun dipped over the distance, Sleight carried the two on his back, so they could make their way to a nearby town he knew of. He knew an innkeeper, perhaps they could all crash there for the night, get washed up.
After that?
Sleight of Hoof now knew full well that evil existed in this world, as did both of the foals he carried with them. Neither of them knew yet full well what had transpired, but Sleight had a nagging suspicion that whatever forces were at work in that house would come after them. As long as he was alive, though, he wasn't going to let a soul hurt those kids.
This wasn't something he could just leave to the police. Who would believe him? Believe in that dark magic, the crimes against nature committed in that house. This was far darker than a twisted unicorn with a sick sense of humor, and it was far more personal.
Tonight, they would rest. Tomorrow, the real work would begin, work that would blend in to years of training and learning, years on the road, always struggling to stay less than one step behind the supernatural forces they would learn to hate.
After all, they had a demon to hunt.
