A feeling of bliss and dreams that I was only able to vaguely remember were cut short from me when I heard a loud thump from downstairs. As annoyed as I was by this I didn’t think anything of it at first for it was most likely only Sweetie Belle accidentally knocking something over while getting a midnight snack. She probably just bumped into something in the dark while she was sneaking a slice of cake from the fridge. I tried to shrug it off and fall back into my slumber, but the thought of Sweetie kept in my mind.
That was an awfully loud noise that came from downstairs. What if Sweetie had hurt herself? But if she had, I would have heard her cry out, wouldn’t I? Oh Celestia, what if she’d gotten hurt so bad that she didn’t even have the strength to make a sound?! But there was nothing in the boutique that could have hurt her that bad. Then again my sewing machine was pretty heavy; and it would have been quite easy to knock it off the table if you weren’t looking where you were going. What if Sweetie had knocked it off the table and injured herself? What if she was downstairs right now bleeding out in agonizing pain praying that I come down there and aid her?! What if she’s dying while I was just laying here in my bed not doing anything?!
Slowly I got out of bed. While none of those thoughts, I pray, were likely to be true, it would help my mind a lot if I went downstairs to check on her. When I’d descend the stairs I’ll go down to find Sweetie cleaning up the contents of whatever container she had knocked over. At worst she would have broken it. I was letting my paranoia get the better of me. Reaching over to my night stand I pulled the cord to let me find my way to the door. I then put on my slippers and lifted my rear end off of my bed. Before leaving the room I looked at the digital clock to check and see what time it was. 4:24 in the morning is what the clock illuminated the room with. What in Luna’s name was Sweetie Belle doing up at this hour, let alone downstairs? If I weren’t so tired I’d give her a lecture.
When I walked down the hall and towards the staircase I paused at the guest room’s doorway. Its bed was in clear view from where I was standing; and it was illuminated by Luna’s night light so it was unmistakable that I saw Sweetie still there. She was slumbering peacefully with her arms tucked underneath the pillow. The sound I heard was probably just the remains of a dream I had awoken from that felt as though it actually existed. I grunted as I realized had gotten out of bed for nothing.
Then another noise coming from downstairs that nearly made me jump out of my skin. I was fully awake now so it couldn’t have been my imagination. And Sweetie was right in front of me fast asleep; so it was obvious she wasn’t the culprit. That could only mean that someone had broken into my house! What do I do? Do I hide in my room? No I couldn’t do that, there are far too many valuable things downstairs that I was not going to let that ruffian have. And there was no guarantee that the intruder wouldn’t come upstairs either. And if he came upstairs, what if he was armed? What if he hurt me or Sweetie Belle? Or what if he was some lustful predator after little girls like Sweetie?! There was no way I could leave this unattended. I had to act.
The first thing I did was lock Sweetie’s door and closed it as quietly as possible. It was highly unlikely that the intruder would even get the chance to go upstairs after I went down, but knowing that Sweetie would be safe if he somehow did made me feel a lot better. Next I needed to make sure I would be safe when confronting this intruder. I snuck back into my room without making a sound and pulled a green box with a lock on it from under my bed. I had to keep the box locked because I couldn’t let Sweetie get ahold of the dangerous contents inside. The key to that box was hidden in the flower vase that I kept on my night stand. Taking a deep breath, I used the key and opened the box.
Inside the box was a silver six shot revolver with elegant engraves on the hilt and barrel; as well as six bullets lying side by side. Despite its beautiful craftsmanship I hated the very sight of this thing. Though owning it made me feel a lot better about myself ever since an incident in Manehatten that I prefer not to talk about. And it looks like buying it would finally prove to be a smart idea now. Nervously I picked up the accursed killing tool. Its cold steel seemed to burn my hand as soon as I touched it. I ran a couple drills in my head and remember how to properly hold and fire it. Dominate hand on the grip and trigger while my opposite hand gripped that one from below. Then I opened the chamber and one by one loaded all six bullets into this. Each one slide smoothly down into its chamber. I don’t know how many times I would need to fire it; I had hoped I wouldn’t need to fire it at all. But it was better to be safe than sorry and take it fully loaded.
I crept on over to the top of the staircase with my revolver at the ready. Before descending to face the intruder I took another gaze at the weapon. Why did this thing have to exist? Its only purpose was to take another’s life. What a repulsive reason for existence. Then the thought dawned on me that that might be the very thing I’d have to do in the near future. I was carrying this firearm and that meant I was capable of harming him. So if the intruder felt truly threatened he would attempt to harm me back. In that sort of situation, the only outcomes include one of us dead. Would I really be capable of pulling the trigger if my life depended on it? I shook my head hard and walked down the stairs. I shouldn’t think about that sort of thing.
As I walked down the stairs I began to wonder if it really was someone who meant any harm at all. For all I knew it could have been Rainbow Dash or Pinkie Pie on her way home from the bar in a drunken haze. They could have just broken into my house while under poor judgment to get a snack. Was I really about to confront one of my best friends while holding a gun? Unfortunately while that was a favorable possibility, it was an unlikely one. Besides, even if it was the truth, the shock of my firearm would probably be more than enough to teach them a lesson.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase I found the door slightly ajar and the side table that normally sat next to it knocked over. That explained one of the noises I heard. I crept to the corner that led into the boutique area, gun always at the ready. My slippers muffled my footsteps so thankfully no one could hear me walking. Slowly and cautiously I poked my head around the corner. The store portion of the boutique was empty. I snuck through the boutique and made my way to the doorway to the backroom. The house seemed to be filled with a new type of silence that I had never experienced before, a dreadful type of silence. The air was stiff with terror. I felt more alert to noises than I ever was before for the thought loomed in my mind that any noise could possibly be someone who would kill me if I didn’t act fast enough. I stared at every shadow along the way intensely; knowing that they could be hiding the intruder. I pressed against the wall of the doorway. If there was a thief in the house he would most likely be in here trying to crack my safe open. I took a deep breath and quickly turned the corner with my gun pointed straight in front of me.
Empty. The backroom was empty. It looked as though nothing had been disturbed. I walked quietly over to the safe and dialed in the code. I couldn’t make it out exactly in the dark, but from the silhouettes I saw it looked as though nothing had been stolen. I still had all my valuables, a revelation that lifted some of the worry from my mind. But I was soon snapped back into the reality of what was happening when I heard the fridge door sound in the kitchen. There was no denying it now; the intruder was in the kitchen. This was it; there was no turning back now. I had to confront him for my own sake and Sweetie’s sake. With a great anchor weighing in my chest I walked to kitchen.
There he was. He had his back turned to me while he was looking inside the refrigerator. I could tell from this person’s figure that they were not one of my friends. I could also see a knife visible in his hand. He had come into the house armed, meaning that he was prepared to harm me if he were to get the chance. I couldn’t let him get that chance. I raised the gun in the air and aimed it directly at him.
“Don’t move.” I ordered sternly, trying not to sound scared or intimidated at all. The intruder jumped from fright. I saw his ski mask covered head peak out from under the refrigerator door for a second and his eyes widened at the sight of my gun. “Stand up and put your hands in the air!” I shouted. With his hands above his head he wouldn’t be able to make any sly moves.
The bugler didn’t comply. “Whoa now lady,” He said. “I don’t think you want to…”
“I said put them in the air!” I shouted even louder this time. I gripped the revolver even tighter and made it seem like I was going to pull the trigger at any second. This time the intruder did what I said. Slowly he stood up, raised his hands towards the ceiling, and walked out from behind the refrigerator door. I kept the gun fixed on him the entire time. I was in complete command of the situation. “Now leave the house and I won’t call the police.” That was a complete lie of course. There was no way in Celestia’s name I was not going to call the police. But if I made him think he could leave consequence free I could maybe avoid any chance at violence.
Completely shocked from fear the thief slowly began to walk towards me with his hands still raised in the air. Not even for a second was my gun not pointed as him. It seemed like this was actually going to work. He was going towards the door and in a matter of seconds I would be rid of him and on the phone for the authorities. Everything was going to be…
“Rarity, what are you yelling about?” Oh no! Oh dear Luna no! Sweetie’s voice came from the top of the stairs, and the intruder was at the bottom. It happened in the blink of an eye. He looked up the stairs at Sweetie and then dashed up them faster than I could react. I ran towards the stairs and instantly pointed my gun up them. But I was too late. I saw him holding Sweetie in the air; his knife pointed at her neck and his opposite hand muffling her screams.
“Drop the gun and no one gets hurt!” He said.
“Let her go!”
“Drop the fucking gun!”
I stood there frozen in the position I was in. Could I trust him? Was he really telling the truth? No, there was no way he was telling the truth. He had to be planning something or else he wouldn’t have grabbed Sweetie. What do I do? If I didn’t follow his orders he would kill her. But if I did then he might do far worse. I had to protect Sweetie! There was only one thing I could do…
All time seemed to slow down. That one moment turned into an hour. I was aware of everything that happened. My finger tightened, a loud sound rung through the house, and a strong pain coursed through my arms. I saw the bullet leave the chamber. I saw it in every detail. I saw it spiral through the air and up the stairs. All the while the noise of the gun was still in the background. I watched the projectile go over every centimeter of its journey until it finally reached its target. There was nothing to stop it. There was nothing to protect him. There was nothing he could do to stop the small metal object from piercing his skull. Crimson splattered all over the wall as well as onto Sweetie. The attacker instantly released his grip on my sister. She fell to the floor and so did he. I just stood there with my arms locked in the same position. My breath was heavy. Everything stood still.
Then everything snapped back to reality. I dropped the gun to the floor and darted up the stairs. Sweetie was just lying on the ground; her eyes were wet with fear. Her fear was frozen in terror. I snatched her up and dragged her to the other side hall. I pressed my back up against the wall and held her as tight as I possibly could. I didn’t care about anything anymore. I didn’t care about the dead man in the hall way. I didn’t care about the mess. I didn’t care about anything. Sweetie was safe and that’s all that mattered.
“It’s ok Sweetie…” I whispered while I continued to clutch her. “It’s ok…He can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt you…you’re safe. You’re safe now….” I kept sitting there, holding Sweetie towards my body, repeating the same few phrases to Sweetie Belle. I didn’t move at all until the police arrived.
“You did the only thing you could do Rarity.” Twilight said to Rarity. She was doing her best to console her friend after what had happened the night before. “And I’ve checked with the police. He had broken into your home and he was threatening you. What you did was completely justified and legal.”
“Twilight you don’t understand.” Rarity just sat next to Twilight on her couch, staring into nothing. “Because of me...that man is dead. Because of my actions he’s not able to do anything anymore. I don’t even know who that man was. I don’t know what he wanted or why he was in my house. I don’t even know if he had any family or dreams in life. But none of that matters now because I killed him. I killed someone Twilight. I killed someone…”
Twilight realized that she couldn’t even begin to empathize with Rarity. She had the weight of taking someone’s life on her mind; a weight that she herself had never known before. Nothing could. The only thing she could do was make Rarity try and feel better.
“Rarity the only thing that does matter is that he was going to hurt Sweetie Belle if you didn’t do something. Her life was a lot more important than his at that moment. Because of you Rarity, Sweetie’s still alive.” She didn’t say anything. Instead Twilight soon found herself wrapped in Rarity’s arms. Her tears were flowing into Twilight’s clothes. Twilight said nothing. She put her hand on Rarity’s back and let her emotions empty out.
Author's Note
I just thought of this concept for a story two days ago and decided to write it as a quick one shot because I wanted to. I know I didn't write a good ending, but I can't write those.