The Legend of Shimmer.

by Sorcus

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Adventure, Tragedy, Crossover
Length: 29550

Shimmer is in deep pain of what she has done to others, But as the pain returns back to her will she be able to face the pain she has done to others? Only you can find out.

Shimmerstrike is a mare with a dark and tragic past. As a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, she has seen—and done—some of the most vile things imaginable. But how will she endure when she is faced with the same pain she’s caused so many others?
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Made By Sorcus
Note: I will update all error please comment if I have a grammar mistake Thanks!

Published 2014-10-28 02:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-30 11:46:37 UTC

Inception

I didn’t remember it being that cold. We were nearing the Crystal Empire.

The carriage wheels creaked and bumped over rocks that lay in the path we traveled. I bounced off the wall of the carriage with every bump. This is what woke me.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes and assessed the situation. My mouth was blocked by a ball of cloth held in it by a blindfold and my wings were bound by the mass of rope tied around my midsection. I felt a familiar crispiness on my forehead; dried blood. Then there was a pungent stench that nearly made me choke on my gag.

Stallions. I hate stallions.

A deep chuckle broke the silence. “Well, well, brothers. The murderess is finally awake.” A few other stallions began laughing. “So tell me, killer. How did they finally catch the Hoofington Ripper?”

How had I been caught? I killed the mark and fled the city, no complications. Had somepony followed me?

No. That’s not possible. I’m never followed.

My silence must have annoyed the stallion. “I asked you a question, mule. Did you not hear me?”

I didn’t speak. I moved my jaw until the gag slid down, spit out the cloth, and laughed at him.

“Laugh all you want,” he said. “You won’t be when your head’s rolling on the ground. That’s right. We’re going to the Headspony.”

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” I said. “I think I’ve earned it.”

“No, you’ve earned eternal damnation at the hooves of Celestia herself.”

I snorted. “Your Divines can sit on each other’s horns. They sit by and watch while their loyal subjects are killed in cold blood.”

“By ponies like you.”

I smiled. “Yet you still put faith in your false Goddesses. Sheep.”

The stallion rushed toward me and slammed his forehead to mine. My head bounced off of the carriage wall.

“Nopony insults the Divines in my presence. I’ve half a mind to tear your head from your shoulders for all you’ve done.”

I sighed. “Very well, then. Do make sure it hurts, will you?”

He paused. “What is wrong with you?” I just stared him down with a psychotic grin plastered on my face.

It was a few more hours before we reached our destination. I didn’t hear so much as a peep from my chatty friend. The others were sharing their stories of how they were caught. We had the whole lot here. Thieves, murderers, and even a rapist.

Rapist…

The carriage stopped and I heard hoofsteps on both sides. The hatch of the carriage was thrown open, revealing two armored Zebras. They led us out of the carriage single file.

I was behind the rapist and I really wanted to do this.

He jumped down and started walking with the others. I jumped from the carriage to his back, threw my hooves around his neck and started biting at whatever I could. An ear. His cheek. I might have even gotten his eye. I saw he only had one ear now.

The Zebras ripped me off of him and beat me into the ground, then shoved me back in line a few ponies down from him. I definitely had a broken rib or two but it was worth it.

We were marched through the small town they had brought us to. These ponies knew who I was. Every time we neared a foal, the parent would hide it from my sight. Cold gusts of wind bit at my face, sending a shiver through my body. We were marching to our death—I knew it—but I kept my composure. The same can’t be said of a few of the ponies behind me. They blubbered like foals through their gags. Equestria wouldn’t miss these cowards.

The nine of us were lined up in the town square: myself, four Earth ponies, a Unicorn, two Pegasi, and the pony on the end. A magnificent horn jutted from his brow and he sported rope around his midsection, as I did, over his regal coat that was pulled tight over his bulky frame. He also wore the same accepting expression as me. He didn’t fear death but embraced his fate.

A Zebra stallion clad in ornate silver armor stepped forward with a Unicorn mare at his side. The commander raised his hoof and silenced the murmuring crowd. The Unicorn levitated the scroll to his face and he cleared his throat.

“Rockshatter of Ponyville. Step forward.” His bass voiced echoed throughout the silent town. Rockshatter was the chatty stallion from my carriage ride. He stepped forward, trembling with tears in his eyes. Now, this here was a brave stallion. “You were apprehended on Royal Grounds in possession of a sacred artifact. What say you in your defense?”

Rockshatter broke. “No, please! I don’t want to die!”

“Calm yourself.” said the commander. Rockshatter bolted for the open town gate. “Archers!”

“You’re not gonna kill me!” Rockshatter cried, hysterical with fear.

The archers filled him with arrows and he was dead before he hit the ground. The townsponies cheered and stomped at the thief’s demise.

“Order!” They quickly settled at his commanding voice. He looked back to his scroll. “Shimmerstrike of Canterlot. Step forward.” I stepped forward. “You have terrorized the citizens of Equestria as the Hoofington Ripper and have been found guilty of eighty-seven counts of murder, twelve of your victims being foals. What say you in your defense?”

I closed my eyes and inhaled. The world slowed to a crawl and I listened to the air passing through me and recited the second Tenet in my head. Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. I opened my crimson eyes and stared at the commander for a moment. “I await the Dread Father’s loving embrace in the Void.”

My stoic tone must have caught everypony off guard after Rockshatter’s dramatic display. They’d never get such a show from me.

The commander nodded. “Very well. May Celestia rip the blackened soul from your body and banish it forever to the depths of Tartarus for your sins.”

I kept my expression. I was guided to a wooden block at the foot of a minotaur wielding a crude axe. He wore a cowl obscuring all but his eyes and the coarse beard that sprouted from beneath it. I knelt and placed my neck in the groove of the block with a content smile on my face. I’d served Sithis all my life and would do so until my dying breath.

It was finally here.

“Justice for the foal-killer!” A small red stallion stepped out of the crowd. “Have this monster’s head on a spike. I’ll parade it across Equestria myself.” He trotted over to the chopping block and looked down at me. “This nightmare of yours is finally over.” I lowered my head as he spit down into my mane. A guard dragged him back to the cheering crowd.

I looked at the line of ponies that would soon share my fate. Then I saw the Alicorn lower his gag and inhale.

“No!” the commander yelled. Now I know why he was gagged.

His voice rumbled out, resonating on the mountains. He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue and his voice caused the pebbles on the ground to jump.

“Stop him!” The soldiers drew swords and charged at him.

He finished his incantation and his voice knocked them to the ground. A powerful gust of wind blasted my mane straight back.

The minotaur fell on his back and I sprang onto his chest and sank my teeth into his throat. There was snapping and popping as my blunt teeth tore through his muscular neck. My face was buried in muscle before I hit the windpipe. His massive hand clamped down on my back and slammed me to the cobblestone, aggravating the broken ribs I had. The minotaur thrashed about, slowing as more blood rushed out, then finally went limp.

I struggled to my hooves, trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of me. Black clouds blotted out the setting sun and a torrent of rain fell from the sky. Lightning forked down and struck the Alicorn. The electricity danced around his body and he fanned out his impressive wings, shredding the rope that bound them. He slowly started to rise, speaking another incantation in a guttural voice. The archers fired volley after volley, only to hit a grey barrier conjured by the Alicorn.

I looked around for an escape. That’s when I saw the red stallion; the bastard that had spit on me. He was hiding under an overturned carriage and looking up to the sky.

Kill him, a raspy mass whispered in my ear.

I rushed to him and bit his mane and pulled him out. He didn’t react quickly enough. I slammed my hooves to his throat and began to suffocate him. He thrashed and kicked, pummeling me in the face. I lowered my head past his hooves and bit down on his ear. Grinding my teeth, I severed it from his head and spit it on the ground. A scream tried to escape his throat but my hooves wouldn’t let it pass. He stopped thrashing and his wide eyes went still.

The rain came down harder. Lightning struck down all around, threatening to end anypony stupid enough to stay out here. I left the stallion in the mud and ran into the nearest building.

The door led into the guard’s barracks. Empty beds filled half the room. Ahead, I saw the silhouette of a stallion looking at the choices on a weapon rack. After some rifling, he grabbed on an old sword and swung it for good measure. “Excellent,” he whispered and moved on.

I slid up to the table next to the rack. On it were two hooves of playing cards—one of the ponies had cheated—and a bag of bits and a gift from the Dread Father. A bloody dagger was stabbed into the table and small tufts of tan fur was on its blade. I clamped down with my teeth and pulled it out of the wood.

I stuck to the shadows and stalked the pony who was frequently turning around to look over his shoulder. We came to a locked door. He shook it a few times then tried ramming it open with his shoulder. It didn’t budge.

I pounced on his back and put my blade to his throat. He gasped and froze.

“Don’t move,” I whispered in his ear. I felt the dagger move down, then back up when he swallowed. “I ask a simple favor of you. I’ll give your life in return for it.

“I promise nothing.” He was afraid. Ponies are easier to persuade when they are afraid.

I jumped over his head and landed in front of him. “Cut my bindings and release my wings.”

“What’s to stop you from sticking that blade in my back the second I do?”

“I offered your life in return and I will take it if you refuse.”

“Ha! Do you think it so easy? I won’t let you kill me.”

“You won’t be able to stop me.”

His eyes went wide and he swung his sword in an upward arc. I pirouetted, spinning nearly out of range. The ropes loosened and I unfurled my wings, tearing the remaining threads that held the rope together and sent my bindings to the floor.

I charged at him. We both soared through the air and crashed into the wall. I fell to the floor. He didn’t. The blunt hooks of the shield rack speared him and he was hung on the wall. He squirmed and held onto the spikes that held him up. “You… bastard,” he said, coughing as blood trickled from his mouth and wounds.

I flew up, inches from his face and look him dead in the eyes. “I offered you mercy.” I placed the tip of the dagger gently on his side, gently running it across his coat and eyeing him the entire time. “Now you will beg for it before the Dread Father.”

He gasped as I plunged the blade into his side and carved a crude and deep smile across his stomach. There was a splashing sound as his entrails spilled to the stone floor below. He emptied his lungs and went limp. He’d make a nice trophy on the wall.

I went back to the locked door. Its lock was of strong make but I’m always prepared for such. I flicked my tail, listening for the faint ping I’d grown accustomed to catching. The lock pick fell to the floor with the ping I’d waited for and I snatched it up. Peering into the hole, I was able to spot four tumblers. Very strong make. I tapped them into place with the pick then inserted the tip of my dagger in at an angle and applied torque. The lock rotated and the door opened ever so slightly.

Success!

I lifted up on the door as I opened it to keep it from squeaking and peered inside. Two soldiers—a Zebra mare and a Unicorn stallion—sat at a table. Both wore the same armor as the soldiers outside. They joked and laughed and took long pulls from their mugs.

They’d were sitting across from one another and the Zebra mare would surely spot me before I could sneak past. There was another ceramic mug on the floor next to me. Just the diversion I need. I picked it up and launched it at the far wall behind them. It shattered with a thick crash that snapped the soldiers out of their revel.

“Agh! What was that?” The stallion looked around and spotted the mug. “Clean that up, Private!”

“It wasn’t I who broke the mug, sir,” the mare replied. She had an exotic accent like most of the Zebras I’d met. “Here is mine.” She lifted her mug before her officer and drained it.

“Right,” he said, “I suppose it was the Hoofington Ripper then.” They both laughed for a few seconds then the officer’s expression straightened and he pointed a hoof at the shattered mug.

“Yes, sir!” The mare jumped up and went to sweep up the bits of broken mug.

With her back turned to her officer.

I bolted forward and drove my dagger into the back of his neck. He coughed and went limp. I caught him before he slammed down to the table and laid him down gently. The Zebra swept up the mug and put the pieces into a basket near the door. I dove into the shadows and waited.

I wanted her to see.

At first she laughed. “Ponies. Cannot handle your drinks ever,” she said.

Fear spread across her face when she saw the blood dripping from his back and she began to hyperventilate. She looked back to draw her sword and, a second later, she was face to face with the Hoofington Ripper. With a grin, I slashed her throat, showering my face with droplets of blood. The mare winced and stumbled forward. She pressed the tip of her sword to my chest but couldn’t find the strength to pierce my barding. She fell to the floor with a clank and I stepped over her lifeless body and continued forward.

I could hear the storm, even through the stonework. I was a decent ways underground by then and was descending deeper by the second. The only light this far down came from the mounted torches burning on the walls.

Then, the screams of a stallion echoed down the hall, coming from a room at the end. It was dimly lit but would erupt in a flash of white light just before each scream.

I couldn’t resist peeking in. I must know what is causing this pony so much pain.

A giant of a stallion stood over a squirming body on the floor. A primitive, blood-covered hammer was in his mouth. The other standing pony was a Unicorn mare, electric blue with a frazzled white mane.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said to the body on the floor. “What is Stormcrow doing this far north?”

He laughed through his pain. “I’ll,” he coughed, “I’ll die before I betray him. We don’t need to fear you Legion tyrants anymore. The true Divine is come!”

“So be it,” said the mare.

The giant stepped over to the wall, revealing the prisoner. His eyes were puffy from crying and mucous ran from his nostrils. All four of his legs were smashed flat and bits of bone peeked from the flesh.

The room lit up and the stallion screamed once more. A narrow stream of electricity shot forth from the Unicorn’s horn and pinned the stallion to the ground. The mare cried out in exertion and the stream grew larger and brighter. The stallion slowly began to melt. Then his eyes popped.

How wonderful! I thought.

My joy was cut short when I scanned the room. It was dimly lit, but there wasn’t a patch of shadow to be found and all that was in the room was a lone cage. These two had to die. I couldn’t risk being spotted or bumping into them before I got out.

The giant was closest and his back was turned to me. I pounced on him and thrust my dagger, severing his brain stem. He twitched and started to tip over. I pushed off of him, and readied another thrust for the mare.

When I turned to face her, my world lit up and my muscles contracted. I fell to the floor and groaned. I got back up with my dagger in hoof, inching toward her. Then I felt myself being lifted off the ground and about six feet in the air. She slammed me to the stone floor, trying to knock the dagger from my grip. When I didn’t release it, I was slammed again. And again…

I don’t recall how many times I hit the floor but I couldn’t hold my blade forever. It slid across the floor and tapped the wall. She released me and I crawled toward it, unable to breath. The mare’s horn lit up and then I was unable to move. It was like the lightning, only I felt no pain. I tipped over and was lifted again, this time to the cage. She threw me in—not gently, might I add—and locked the door.

She smiled in at me. “Rest yourself, pony. We’ll have some fun tomorrow.” I said nothing and she left me for the night. My body loosened about a minute later.

I had been captured yet again.

The Dread Father will not be pleased.

* * *

Unfortunately, the dungeon mistress’s giant associate didn’t make it. She carried out my punishment alone. It didn’t seem to bother her at all.

The guards made sure everypony and their mother knew that the Hoofington Ripper had been captured. In the few days of the carriage ride they had put a sketch of me in the papers that were delivered all over Equestria. I think it was one of the best selling issues in Equestrian history.

My first day of torture was nothing short of ironic. With the majority of my victims, I would skin their bodies after I killed them. It was my calling card, the one thing that separated the Hoofington Ripper from your run-of-the-mill murderer. I had honestly murdered much more than eighty-seven ponies. That’s just the number of ponies I’d skinned and this was my punishment.

She used a knife with a thin curved blade, generally used for surgery, and slowly hacked the coat from my body. Painful as it was, I couldn’t help but laugh at her inexperience. She cut small chunks from my coat. Amateurs. I could skin a pony in a five minutes flat and have the entire hide in one piece.

“Ha! You cut like a foal. Perhaps you’d like some pointers?” Then I burst into a fit of psychotic laughter which I’ll attribute to the immense pain I was in.

She paid no mind. I was strapped to the wall, and she was the pony with the knife. Why was I laughing so hard?

She began with my cutie mark: a single blood-hoofprint on each flank. Next, she stripped my legs, then my torso. She cut with precision at my throat. We couldn’t have me being killed by a poor cut now, could we? When she neared my eyes she feigned mistake and skewered my right eye with the blade.

“Whoops…”

I went into shock after the first few minutes, but I thrashed about anyway, more from the idea of what was happening than the pain I didn’t feel.

She took nearly two hours to finish. There must have been magic keeping me alive. As long as she’d taken, I should have bled out before she even finished my legs. I drew sharp breaths, hoping that each one would be my last.

Then came the worst part. Her horn glowed a soothing green and I felt skin stretch over my body. The vision in my skewered eye returned and soon I felt no pain.

She hit me with the Paralysis spell again and I was thrown back into my cage. My tormentor stepped up to the bars, looking down in amusement at my petrified body. “Rest yourself, Ripper. It only gets worse.”

She was gone when the spell wore off. I was so very thirsty. She left a small bowl of water for me. It’s the least she could have done. She did skin me, after all. I sipped the water, swishing it around in my mouth before swallowing it. It didn’t quench my thirst but it was better than gulping it down. It tasted surprisingly good.

I curled up in the smelly hay and laid my head on my hooves and tried to sleep.

* * *

Day two was different.

Instead of cutting my hide off, my tormentor, Shockwave, opted to burn me with fire and lightning. Torture must have been her special talent; she always brought back from the brink of death. The Restoration magic was so much worse. I wanted to die but I suppose I deserved this. I am an evil pony.

She recognized the insignia that was my cutie mark. It was the mark of the Dark Brotherhood. She decided to coerce information from me. Oh, if only she knew how valuable my secrets were. Each time she asked a question, I would recite the second Tenet in a calm tone.

“Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis.”

Each time, she would bare her teeth and lash out at me. She seemed fond of stabbing me with the surgical knife.

“I’ll have your secrets, foal-killer!” she said and plunged the knife into my gut.

I yelped, but grinned through the agony. “Your determination is admirable but you may as well try to wrench these secrets from Sithis himself.” I felt my warm blood running down my leg and could hear the soft plink of each drop as it hit the floor. I glared at her. “I’ll never betray my family. I’ll endure a thousand years of your torture to keep them from you.”

That really set her off. She was not a patient pony. She yanked the knife out and stabbed me several times, grunting with each thrust. I only felt the first few. I could feel intense warmth as blood hemorrhaged from my body but then I grew cold. She walked away, fuming. Was she finally going to let me die? The corners of my mouth turned up and I tried to.

Then the wretched green light enveloped me and I was healthy again.

“Oh no, Shimmerstrike. You’re not allowed to die just yet. I’ll have your secrets, be it now or ten years from today.”

“Never betr…” She slit my throat, letting me bleed for a few moments before healing me.

She stood up, pressing her hooves to my chest and glared into my eyes. I gazed back, expressionless.

“Don’t think for a second that your secrets are keeping you alive.” She must not have noticed how many times I’ve tried to die in the short time we’ve been together. “You took my husband from me. I’d much rather torture you until your minds breaks than simply kill you.” She pressed a hoof to my throat. “Your victims deserve justice and I’m going to give it to them.”

I felt no pangs of guilt. Instead, I smiled, curled my tongue in my mouth, and spat in the mare’s face. I wanted her to kill me. Maybe this would push her far enough. She fell back to the floor and wiped the thick, bloody saliva from her face.

I laughed as she got up and went to a large wooden chest and began rifling through it. My laughing stopped when she turned to reveal a mouthful of nails.

Uh-oh.

One by one, she telekinetically blasted a nail into each of my legs and into the wooden wall behind me. One went straight through the bone with a crunch. The others glanced, sending sharp pains throughout my entire body. Once I was nailed to the wall, she undid my restraints. My weight caused the nails to tear slightly into my legs.

“One of my favorites,” she said. “Beg your Dread Father to take you by morning. I’ve no further use for you.” She left me up on the wall.

I waited an agonizing hour, just to make sure she was gone. The holes in three of my legs were ripped wider by my weight.

I needed them larger. I began to thrash about until I was sure they were large enough. My wings shot back and I fell to the floor with a wet thud. She hadn’t mopped up my blood and it splashed in every direction. It was thick, almost like tree sap. The leg that had been properly nailed was twisted and grotesque. The nail had snapped the bone when I fell. I couldn’t stand, so I crawled, relieving some of my weight by flapping my wings.

She must keep a healing potion here somewhere.

I went to the chest she pulled the nails from and dug through it. Strapped to the underside of the lid was an elegant red bottle. Red potions were generally for healing and the quality of the bottle suggested a powerful potion. I drank it. The holes in my legs closed. My broken leg magically set and I watched as the bones grew together and skin stretched over the open wound. Soon I felt no pain but I was so terribly thirsty. I could tell by the consistency of the pool of blood that I was dehydrated.

If I went back the way I came, there may be more guards. I went down the same passage Shockwave went every night. The torches on the wall weren’t lit so I slumped against the wall like a rat and made my way down the hall.

After a few turns I saw a faint light flickering from a doorway. I peeked in and saw the electric blue mare asleep on her bed. I looked around for a weapon and spotted a brick on the floor. Brick in hoof, I crept up to her bed and nudged her gently. Her eyes fluttered then shot wide when she saw her intact captive standing over her. I wish I could have savored the moment but I’d have probably wound up on wall again if I did. She gasped and I slammed the brick to her horn with all my strength. It split and she screamed in agony.

We couldn’t have that. I clamped my jaws to her throat, cutting her cries off. The more she struggled, the tighter I bit, and she suffocated. I pulled her off the bed and stomped her head until it a pile of mush. I didn’t want her following me because she turned out to only be unconscious.

The pony-made architecture soon gave way to natural caverns. Glowing fungi clung to the walls and bathed the vicinity in a cool green glow. The air smelled fresh. It was instantly noticeable compared to Shockwave’s dungeon, which smelled only of death.

Sithis was with me this night.

A thin stream of crystal clear water flowed through an eroded crevasse in the cave floor. I beamed and rushed to it and placed my lips to the frosty water, breathing through my nose as I drank my fill.

I wiped the excess water from my muzzle and continued through the cavern. There were lumpy tan mushrooms growing along the base of the wall. I sent a silent prayer to the Dread Father and knelt down to examine them.

They are called Cairn Bolete and are commonly used as a base ingredient of healing potions due to their abundance. A single mushroom wouldn’t heal much but there were many here. I could curb my hunger and heal my body all at once.

I bit the caps from the stalks—the latter being a brain-damaging narcotic—and slowly chewed. They tasted very earthy. Perhaps that was from the mud caked underneath the caps. I ate until I was nearly full. A full stomach would be a hindrance should I need to do battle. I rested against the wall and gave the mushrooms time to heal my body.

The stream widened and spilled off a ledge at the end of the tunnel. The mouth overlooked another room. A natural rock bridge extended from one passage to another. I’m sure one of them led to the passage on my right.

The room wasn’t deserted, however.

A large furry equine-shaped creature was devouring its latest catch: a Legion pony. Its jaws crunched down on bone and pulled meat from the carcass in sick snaps. Large claws pinned the corpse to the floor while massive fangs stripped the meat. Its guttural growl echoed through the cavern.

It was a Werepony.

Wereponies are creatures to be feared and respected—especially the former. Engaging one in battle would certainly be the death of any one pony. This one was feral. A sane Werepony is much more disciplined and its senses are more heightened.

I wasn’t in the mood to die anymore so I decided to sneak past it. It looked as if the Werepony was guarding the end of the passage to my right, just waiting for some clueless pony to walk into a painful and bloody demise.

Fear clouded my senses. I am a very agile pony and can avoid being detected if I wished but I kept seeing flashes of what would happen if I was caught and this made me not scared, but nervous. I shot forward toward the passage, and prayed to Sithis that I’d go unnoticed. He obliged and I landed without so much as a faint clop. I hunched low and continued toward what I hoped was the exit.

The passage led to another room with a stream—it was probably the same stream I had drank from. A short bridge extended over the water and there was an overturned merchant wagon. I flew to it and searched its contents. No blades, but there was an old bow and a quiver of arrows.

All Dark Brothers and Sisters are familiar with all weapons of stealth, and the bow is no exception. I personally prefer to hear my victims’ dying breath but one can’t always get close enough for a dagger strike.

I nocked an arrow and drew the bow, testing the resistance. It drew back without a fight and likely wouldn’t even pierce leather armor, but I am not experienced in hoof-to-hoof combat so the shoddy bow was better than nothing.

I saw sunshine blasting into the cave. I’d done it! I’d escaped execution and would continue my rampage. The mouth of the cave gave way to beautiful northern Equestria. I was close enough to the Crystal Empire to experience its intense chill but not its snow. Behind me and over the mountain range, pillars of smoke shot toward the sky from the site of my execution.

I looked down the path before me. It wasn’t made for carriages, but for hoof traffic and its overgrown state said that it hadn’t been used in some time. Bunnies raced back and forth across the path, careless to the dangers around them.

The air grew cooler as I neared the river. It flowed fast and strong and groups of rocks peeked from the water’s surface forming earthen maws that littered the river. Large fish leapt from the water in schools, making their way upstream.

On the water’s edge was a sheltered monument. Under the stone roof was a statue of a figure I knew. It showed an Alicorn mare wearing an odd-looking hat. Her mane hung down over her shoulder and was tied near the end. Her visage radiated determination. There was a plaque at the base of the statue.

Overpower those of hostility and dishonesty with the strength of Applejack.

I put a hoof to the statue and felt it stir. Green glyphs lit up across my body and I felt a surge of physical strength. I felt like I could wrestle that Werepony to the ground and pop its head under my hoof.

For some reason, something told me that everything was certainly fine.

Speaker

A cottage in the middle of the woods; that was my home.

Inside was the stale smell of smoke. I had a fire the night I left for my last contract. That was fourteen of fifteen days ago; I can’t remember. It was time for another fire.

I brushed the ashes from the previous fire into a basket and sprinkled some into my strawberry garden to fertilize the soil. I love strawberries and the ashes also helped keep the pests away.

Dusk was near so I quickly gathered my firewood. I put in thin sticks to get the fire going and made coals then began to put in logs. I lived about two days from the Crystal Empire so the nights were very cold.

Once my home began to warm up I went to the pantry for food. My dinner would be two slices of potato bread and a glass of strawberry wine. I uncorked a new bottle and the smell of smoke was replaced with the pungent smell of strawberries.

I sat down and hadn’t even taken a bite of my bread. There was a clop at the door. It was Nightshade, the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

Listener is the highest rank achievable in the Dark Brotherhood and there is one in every Sanctuary. When somepony prays to the Night Mother, she relays the information to the Listener, who then sends a Speaker, like myself, to meet with the client and come to an agreement and then a Dark Brother or Sister is assigned to carry out the assassination depending on their experience and the estimated difficulty of the contract.

“Hello, Sister. May I enter?” he asked.

I stepped aside and let him in.

The stallion stepped into my home and hung his cloak on the coat rack by the door. His ebony coat made him nearly invisible in the low light and he had a bright purple mane.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“You live in such seclusion. Is it strange for me to check on you?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Very well, but it’s the truth. I was relieved to see light from your window. You’ve been gone for much longer than you should have. What happened?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Why not? Did you fail your contract?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve nothing to worry about. What happened?”

“That’s just it. I don’t quite remember. I killed the mark and was coming back, then I remember nothing. I awoke bound and gagged in a Legion carriage.”

“Probably a scouting party. There are rumors of an assassination attempt on the Emperor. I’m sure you can imagine the excitement of them capturing one of us.”

“I suppose. They knew everything. All the ponies I’d killed, even my name. I’m afraid I may have broken the second Tenet.”

“No, you would know if you did.”

“Oh?”

He eyed my meal. “Was I interrupting?”

“Yes. You can stay if you’d like.”

“I’d love to but I really must be going. I suppose that since you’re back you can check on your own chapter.”

“Ah, right. I think that can wait until morning.”

I oversaw a specific group of the Brotherhood in a sanctuary outside of Ponyville as was customary for a Speaker. There were four of us as well as the Listener forming the Black Hoof of Sithis, the elite of the Brotherhood.

“Of course. Well… since you’re not dead, I’ll be on my way,” he said awkwardly.

“Yes, you go.” I shooed him out.

He left and I ate my dinner. Then I pulled out my journal. It was massive, possibly several thousand pages, and was held together by a binding I had to make myself. Perhaps one day I’ll count the pages. I began my latest entry, telling of what had happened since the last and spared no details.

I started this journal when I first joined the Brotherhood. I could relive any of my previous contracts or any significant of my life since then events by simply turning a few pages. I’d never let nopony read it, of course, but it was nice to have and it said that I had come a long way from the helpless young mare that had been captured by lowly bandits.

I didn’t need friends. I only needed my journal.

It took some time to write two week’s worth of entries—I always tried to write one for every day—but once I did, I put the journal away and it was time to go to sleep.

The familiar comfort of my bed quickly put me under.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

A stallion and two mares, one of them adolescent, walked alongside their wagon being pulled by two oxen. The wagon was full of all sorts of wares: weapons, armor, clothing, junk, etc. A stool fell out of the wagon.

“Shimmerstrike, dear, could you get that?” the mare said to me. I put the stool back on the wagon and wedged it down into our junk. “Thank you.”

We were on our way to Baltimare from our hometown of Canterlot. My father was a traveling salesman. He made plenty of money as a shopkeeper in Canterlot but he liked the open outdoors and meeting new ponies. I hated the outdoors and didn’t care to meet anypony unless I had to. The law prohibited me from staying at home with no guardian so I had to come with them.

We were, more or less, halfway between the two towns according to my father.

We stopped to make camp in the woods. My father lit a fire and my mother began cooking our dinner. It was a big pot full of stew.

She put vegetables of all kinds in it: carrots, radishes, potatoes, you name it.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“I suppose I do need help with something but you probably won’t want to.”

“Yes I will.”

“I need you to go out and find four Alkanet Flowers.”

“But I hate Alkanet Flowers!”

“I told you. Do you want to help or not?”

“Why do you put them in everything we eat? They’re bad for your health, you know.”

“Shimmerstrike, you wanted to help.”

“Fine.”

“Here, take this.” She handed me a dagger made of cheap iron.

“Are there monsters out there?”

“You’ll need to cut the flowers, won’t you? Don’t go too far out, okay? We don’t need them that badly.”

I set out into the forest to find the flowers. I knew that they were blue or purple or something of that nature.

The dried pine needles crunched under my hooves and gave away my presence to the residents of the forest. The campfire still burned through the darkness but the light of the moon was my only aid in finding those flowers. It didn’t take long to find the first flower. I cut it from the stem and put it in my satchel and continued my search.

Only three to go, I thought.

I began to hear a wider variety of creatures the further from camp I got. It started with only bugs and owls. The wolves soon joined in. Then the bears. None showed themselves.

I found two more flowers growing out of a fallen tree and put them in my satchel.

The last flower took longer to find than the other three but I rushed back to camp once I found it.

My parents were sitting by our wagon with gags over their mouths. They were looking at me, shaking their heads and nodding toward the forest. The oxen were gone.

Then I heard a laugh and several ponies stepped out.

“We got us another one,” the leader said. He walked over and flipped my mane with his hoof. I slashed at his leg.

“Don’t touch me!”

Two of them jumped on me.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

The sight of my peaceful cottage greeted me. I sat up in my bed and looked around my room. The dim light of the waning moon shined in my window.

I hated that memory and still do.

No use trying to go back to sleep, I thought. It would be dawn in a couple of hours.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched and got out of bed.

* * *

“What is the color of night?” the door whispered to me.

“Sanguine, my brother.”

“Welcome home.”

I journeyed many days and nights to Ponyville. The door of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary opened to me and I took a deep breath and ventured inside. Cool air blasted from the earth that was much more comfortable that the warm and humid air of Ponyville.

Just inside was where the leader of this Sanctuary dealt with official matters. Her desk was covered with scrolls and gold. She wasn’t there.

My family had gathered in the den. It appeared that they were grieving. Grieving for me. My Silencer jumped up when she spotted me and rushed over and pulled me into a hug.

“Oh, dearest Sister,” she said, “we thought that you were killed when we heard of your capture.” She grabbed my cheeks and smiled. “This is good.” I was pulled into another embrace to which I pulled away.

“Not now, Sister,” I said with a hoof on her chest. “Where is Malice?”

She looked disappointed. “Oh… she’s in her chambers.”

“Thank you.”

Malice was the head of this chapter. It was she who issued contracts to the lower ranked members of our Family.

Malice shared her chambers with a sarcophagus that contained the remains of the Night Mother. The red mare sat in concentration before our Mother. Malice was the Keeper of the Night Mother as well as the leader of this Sanctuary. Her duties were to protect the night Mother and handle all official matters of the Sanctuary. She was the pony who assigned contracts to the lower-ranked assassins.

I crept into the room and approached her from behind and her right ear twitched.

“Shimmerstrike,” she said without even looking at me. “So nice that you’ve returned.”

“Yes, I’ve come with an unusual request. I want a contract.” Speakers didn’t do contracts. That was left to the lower-ranked members. We simply recruited others but I felt that I should spill blood for Sithis.

“There is an equally unusual contract available. You’ve been requested personally. The Ripper, more specifically.”

She sighed and got up to look at me. She always looked sullen but the pony behind the expression was the closest thing to Sithis here in Equestria; I’d never met a more sadistic pony. She seemed particularly fond of my methods as the Ripper as was everypony else in this Sanctuary. I was the official leader of this group of misfits and they all revered me.

“You will go to Dead Mare’s Cairn and speak with Will-o-Wisp regarding the details of her contract, though she likely won’t be there for several days.” She looked me up and down. “What happened to your armor, Sister?”

“It was ruined.”

“I suppose you’ll need another suit then. You’ll want to see Skyforge then and spill blood for our Dread Father.” She gestured me out. “Until we meet again, Sister.”

I had to walk through a barrier of intense heat to step into the forge. How Skyforge stayed in here all day is beyond me.

Skyforge was a large Earth stallion from the north, past the Crystal Empire. He was the oldest member of our chapter, but also the strongest, physically anyways. His once white mane was now singed from long hours at the forge making weapons and armor for his family. And we were thankful for he had worked the forge since he was a foal and was an expert at his craft. He looked up at me when I entered. His light grey face was black from the smoke he was in all day long.

“Speaker! How can I help you?”

“I need a suit of armor, Skyforge. The same as I had before.”

“I do have one, but it is for Moonshield.” Moonshield was my Silencer.

“Moonshield and I are the same size. She doesn’t have a contract at the moment and I do.”

“But she is expecting it.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“I suppose.”

He gave me the armor. It was made from black cloth and had leather plates over the chest and forelegs and had a black hood. The breastplate bore the insignia of the Dark Brotherhood, the blood hoofprint, in crimson.

I put it on. The light leather was stretched tight across my body. The joints had been stitched together perfectly and did not chafe. This was a problem I’d had with anypony that made my armor other than Skyforge.

“I’ll also need a weapon.”

“Same as before?” He knew me too well.

“Of course.”

He gave me a dagger identical to the one I had before my initial capture. It was made from Minotaurichalcum.

Then I needed to rid my body of the influence of the Divines.

I ventured into the deepest and most sacred part of our home and knelt before the shrine to my Dread Father. He purged me of Applejack’s blessing. I felt weaker but more pure at the same time.

And once again I left my family.

I stepped back into Equestria and ventured north. Dead Mare’s Cairn was toward the center of Equestria and was about a day by hoof from Ponyville.

* * *

It was strange walking down the road in daylight. I didn’t normally do that. Nopony seemed to give me more than a passing glance. I had to hide when the Legion soldiers passed by. They would surely have recognized me and I’d likely be sent to the nearest chopping block.

I hate the outdoors but I was enjoying the quiet, just me and the long road.

Then the strangest thing happened.

A pillar of purple light shot to the sky about a quarter-mile away. Black energy swirled around it and the day grew dark. After a few moments, the light faded and I saw a dragon for the first and only time in my life.

His appearance was demonic; crude black spines and glowing red eyes. The gust from his wings nearly blew down the trees below him. He hovered in place, taking in his surroundings, then let out a deafening roar and flew north toward the Crystal Empire.

I took a moment to comprehend what I’d seen. Dragons hadn’t been seen in Equestria in thousands of years. I wondered what that one was doing there.

Oh, well… I thought. That’s somepony else’s problem. I continued toward the meeting place.

Later on I was stopped by three ponies clothed in black robes. There was a silver dragon-shaped insignia stitched on the chests of them. One had a silver band around her leg which led me to believe that she was their leader.

“Hold,” she said to me.

“What do you want?”

“Do you have a few moments to hear about our Lord and Savior?”

“No. Spread your Divine filth to somepony else.”

“Divines? Ha! Great joke, my friend. We don’t serve the Divines.”

“Then who is it you serve?”

“Leviathan, Dragon of Forgotten Lore.”

“You mean the big black dragon from earlier? He’s not very special if he’s forgotten.”

She laughed. “He is only forgotten by the plebeians of Equestria, those that have chosen the Divines over Him.” She patted my shoulder. “But I’m sure you are of greater intellect than they and know that it is Leviathan who is the harbinger of our salvation.”

“No, my loyalty lies with Sithis, master of the Void and harbinger of death. I don’t need salvation. I’m content with my life as it is.”

She put one hoof over my shoulder and waved the other before the world. “Imagine a world where everypony is equal. No Legion and their laws, no racial segregation. Once Leviathan rises, all of this will be so. You’d be wise to join him now.”

“I said no.”

“So you’d rather be a murderer?”

“If it’s the will of my Father, then I will make it so. Your Leviathan would tremble in fear before the Dread Father.”

“Quiet yourself. Another remark like that and we’ll gut you right here.”

“Will you, really?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m just going to have to kill you.”

I slashed her throat and she fell to the ground. The two stallions charged at me. I ducked one’s swing and stabbed him in the stomach and flipped him over me. The other slammed into me and we fell to the ground.

He was on top of me and pulled his blade back to kill. I drove mine into his gut. I stood up and pulled upward, spilling his entrails to the dirt. The sound it made was nothing short of ecstasy.

Then the part I hated. I couldn’t leave the corpses there; I had to drag each of their bodies into the forest. One of the stallions was fairly large so I took him first. I figured the others wouldn’t seem as heavy after dragging him.

Then I had to find water to wash myself. A blood-covered pony would get more attention than I wanted.

The woods around Ponyville are abundant with small streams. I washed myself and continued on, hoping I wouldn’t be delayed again.

* * *

I arrived at the meeting place at dusk. The mass of stones hid a passage that led down into the earth. The air inside smelled stale and I could almost feel the grime in the air go down my throat as I breathed it in. Surely this pony wouldn’t venture too far in, I thought.

She didn’t. Inside the door I saw the Unicorn mare. She sat hunched over the effigy assembled from the body parts of a dead pony. The smell and decomposed state told me that she’d been here a long while. She was inside a circle of candles and was surrounded by Nightshade flowers. Dagger in hoof, she repeatedly stabbed the effigy, splattering her bright yellow coat with blood on each strike, while reciting a familiar plea.

“Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.”

She somehow sensed my presence and turned to face me and stood up. Her gaze unnerved me in an instant. Her light grey irises were nearly invisible against the white of her eyes. She looked malnourished and sleep-deprived.

“You must be Will-o-Wisp.” I said.

“Are you… with the Dark Brotherhood?”

“I come at the behest of my Night Mother. Tell me why you’ve requested me personally.”

“Vengeance,” she said plainly.

“Vengeance?”

She nodded. “For what you’ve done.”

“You’ll need to be more specific. I’ve done a lot in my time.”

My ear twitched and I heard a sharp hum behind me. When I rolled to the side, the blade of a greatsword wielded by a massive Earth stallion struck the ground where I had stood a fraction of a second earlier.

“I swear to Celestia,” she said, “if you want something done, you have to do it yourself.”

“Forgive me for not clinging to the shadows like a coward,” the stallion said.

“That’s irrelevant. Kill her.”

Will-o-Wisp stood there and I was to face down her bodyguard. We circled the small room, staring each other down. I sunk low and he stood tall. Then he spoke.

“I thank the Goddesses that it’s to be me that will send you to Tartarus.”

“You’ll need more than the opportunity.”

“It matters not. You are but a lowly cut-throat.”

I sprang at him with my dagger and he rammed the pummel of his blade to my head. The world spun for a few seconds and I crumpled to the ground. He could have killed me right there. He didn’t.

“Ha! Ha! Get up, weakling.”

I sprang again and feigned a slash to his face and drove my dagger to his armored chest. I loved the sound of a dagger piercing flesh, especially when the victim was muscular like this one.

He dropped his blade and threw his hooves around me. He pushed me back to get the dagger out, then pulled me back in and squeezed. I heard my spine crack and started to thrash. He squeezed tighter. I tried to bite. He moved his face back and laughed.

“Fight back, Ripper!”

I was able to squeeze my hoof out from his grip. I drove my blade into the side of his neck and he dropped me. He reeled back, holding the wounds I’d given him. I coughed and caught my breath. He was too strong. So I fled, dodging the mare’s fireballs as best I could. The smell of singed hair hit me.

“No!” she yelled. “Follow her!”

I could hear them arguing but didn’t stop to listen. I knew that the stallion at least would follow me in and I needed to use this time to hide.

I fled deeper into the tomb. My fear prevented me from watching for traps and I stepped on a raised plate. There was a crunch and a sharpened rod came from the wall. It sliced through the tip of one of my ears and drove into the wall. I watched the floor as I walked.

The stallion gave chase. He stepped on a plate that I’d missed and a rod was lodged in his side. He didn’t pull it out. His taunting and confident demeanor had given way to a feral rage. He growled and screamed, yelling for me to come back to him.

I rounded a corner and heard shuffling. A casket sat upright at the end of the hall and the lid began to move. I dove behind a large urn and hid in the spider-webs. Dust blasted in my face and I fought the urge to sneeze.

The lid crashed to the floor and dust flew in every direction. A Draugr, the reanimated corpse of a pony long dead, stepped out of its coffin with eyes glowing a fierce blue and it growled as it searched for the one who had disturbed it. That’s when the stallion rounded the corner.

The Draugr charged at him and once it passed me I shot down the hall. The stallion saw me and told me to come back and fight. I figured he would be busy a good ten seconds while fighting the Draugr. That would give me plenty of time to hide again.

I heard a chopping sound and the stallion screamed for me again. I had come to a room with a staircase made from logs. I went down and slowly searched the room for a place to hide. There were more caskets lying down on the floor in organized rows. The lid blasted off of one.

A large Draugr poked his head out and its glowing eyes spotted me. I had nowhere to hide so I drew my blade and charged it. Before it could get up, I sprang to its chest and drove my blade into its throat and chest until its eyes faded. That Draugr had a battle-axe.

Three more casket lids blasted off. “There you are!” the stallion yelled. I fled and left the stallion to deal with the Draugr. I’d have been a fool to face all four of them. “No!”

There was a long log bridge extended over a deep chasm and I crossed it. Below I could see what I guessed was water. It appeared black and the light of the torches reflected off of its surface.

The room it led to had a hole in the middle of the room. A hole was blasted in the roof directly above it and the sunlight poured down the pit though I still couldn’t see the bottom. A throne was set before it and in it sat a regal Draugr.

It didn’t move and its rotting eyes were dark. A horned helm was on its head and a black sword rested in front of it. Its skin looked petrified and it reeked of death.

I stepped around the hole and walked up to the Draugr. It didn’t move. I waved my hoof in front of its face. It didn’t move. Next I meant to touch it, but felt strong hooves latch around me and I was slammed to the floor. My vision blurred but I could see the armored stallion standing over me. And behind him were a burning pair of blue eyes.

The stallion picked me up and held me over the hole by my throat. He chuckled. “It’s a shame you couldn’t die by my blade but I suppose this will have to do.”

“Drop me,” I said. I’d have just flown out of the hole.

There was a raspy inhale then a whisper with the volume of a dragon’s roar. The stallion and I were both blasted into the hole. I was sandwiched between him and the wall then we went toward the middle.

The stallion and I were freefalling beside one another, exchanging blows. Mine didn’t faze him, his knocked me against the rocks. I fought to stay conscious. He pulled me into another bear hug but I stabbed him before he could tighten his grip.

We slammed against the rocks and flailed through the air. I tried to fly out of the pit but he grabbed my rear leg and launched me down. I could only scream.

I believe I was about halfway down when I struck a wooden beam that whipped me to a stop. I heard the stallion’s screams drawing near and he crashed down on top of me, sending both of us through the beam and we continued our freefall. My vision darkened and my rear legs struck another beam. This sent me flipping and I scraped against the wall.

Then I felt wet rock and the light of the sun was gone.

Damnation's Diction

That dream wasn’t a dream—not completely.

I did awake to my own screaming and rushed from the sunlight that poured into the window of the Vampony’s cottage. My naked right side smoked from the sunlight and the pain lingered shortly after I took cover. I felt what I imagined was like being on fire. I’ve never been set on fire before. My hide hissed for a few seconds.

Other than the burning, I felt perfectly healthy.

And I felt…

I turned around to see my beloved wings on my shoulders. There was still blood around their bases from the old wounds. I felt like a foal that had just walked into their own surprise party; I was in stunned silence then tried to fly around the cottage in glee. My wings wouldn’t lift me from the floor. Moving was difficult at first but became easier the more I tried. I can say that we Pegasi don’t appreciate our wings like we should. I had to have them bitten off to realize just how important they were to me.

The happiness was nearly cut short when I realized how I’d gotten them back. I’d been infected by the Vampony, that was obvious. There aren’t many other ways for a pony to regenerate a limb. I knew it would be a major change in my life but I didn’t care. I was tired of hurting and being a Vampony wasn’t enough to make me miserable.

What did make me miserable was waiting for the moon. I’ve waited full days for a target during a contract, but waiting for the moon was different. The day dragged on until I was nearly willing to rush into the sun. I knew the sunlight hurt me but I wasn’t sure if it could kill me. The burning went away after a few minutes.

I crawled back onto the bed and stretched out. I immediately wanted to get up because I felt that I had been down too long. The air in the cottage was very stale.

It was worth the wait when the moon came. The definition of the night was much sharper. Anypony in their right mind would tell you that the night is a beautiful thing, but I’d have been envious of the Vamponies if I’d known what their nights were like. I could see and hear every flake of snow that blew in the wind. The cold that used to sting me caressed my coat. The wind whistled a soothing tune in my ears.

The forest seemed to beckon me to it, the friendly branches gesturing me in. They looked ominous enough to frighten a timid pony but I couldn’t help thinking that they were my friends. They seemed as alive as the animals that lived inside. Plants are living things, but it was different now. Ponies generally don’t think of plants that way, but I saw them the same as a dog or a bird then, like they had feelings. I obliged them and stepped inside.

The canopy was blocking the moon but I had no trouble seeing the clear path before me. I saw every root and rock sticking out of the ground. For a while I just roamed the forest, admiring everything I’d always taken for granted. I was so quiet stepping through the wood that even the deer didn’t notice me as I was right on them.

It was about an hour later that I felt a strange hunger. I’d never felt a craving like that before, but it didn’t take long to figure out what I needed.

I needed to find somepony.

* * *

My first victim was to be a guard pony that was patrolling the roads, a thick Earth stallion carrying a torch to light the way and a sword at his flank. He looked straight ahead as he walked, not looking into the forests that were on either side of him.

He was a lone stallion, and that’s all it took to convince me to attack.

The guards that patrol the roads are the most competent—I think—of all. This one saw a crazy mare charging him and quickly drew his blade to defend himself. I dodged his first strike and struck him with my hoof.

He rolled once and quickly got back up with a look of surprise. I lunged at him again and felt his blade rip through my coat. It barely hurt, like scraping your coat on thorns. I almost didn’t notice. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t heard my flesh mending on its own. It was a sick sound, like a hoof pressing down into thick mud. I looked down at where the wound had nearly closed.

“Ew…” I said with a grimace. It had begun to hurt just when it closed up. I jumped with surprise and didn’t feel the pain any more.

The guard stood still with eyes wide. “What are you?”

I started toward him again. I thought he would cut me again but that time he slammed his torch down on my head. Embers flew in every direction and my head felt like it was on fire. I patted my smoking mane before it ignited. The stallion fled.

I watched him flee for a moment, rubbing my head and trying to hold back my laughter but not being able to keep in a few giggles. I’m not sure why, but I thought it was funny that he’d hit me with a torch. That’s not something you hear about very often, and even less so when they have a blade to swing.

The guard turned a wide corner and disappeared behind a small hill. I shook the ashes from my head and gave chase.

Flight had never been so effortless as it was then. I thought I’d still fly even if I stopped flapping my wings. Flight is generally enjoyable for all Pegasi, but with my heightened senses, it was even better.

Over the hill was a small fort. The door was blocked off by rubble that had fallen from the level above it where ponies would stand watch. A small tent was erected not far from the pile. The blanket underneath looked crispy, like it had been rained on then left to dry countless times. I could see that some spots were crispier than others. Just outside the tent was a burlap sack. The stale smell of corn came from it. I never liked corn that much.

I heard the faintest scrape of metal on stone coming from the level above me. I knew it was the guard. I knew exactly where he was. He knew—or thought—that I was just below him and that I would come up through the hole above the door to the fort, but I’m not a stupid pony.

He didn’t notice me behind him. I doubt he expected me to come from anywhere but that hole. I watched him a few moments. He stood with his blade pointed at where he thought my head would poke up. His breath was sharp, quick, the breath of a pony who fears for their life. He’d breath heavily a few times, then swallow and look around. The swallowing sound was almost as nasty as when I healed after being cut open.

I flew down beside him unnoticed. He was too focused on that hole. I waited, amused that he didn’t notice me right next to him. The second level was empty save for a few rotted wooden crates and a single sleeping bag that looked even more abandoned as the one below. Mildew covered the top and I could see mushrooms inside of it.

I cleared my throat and he froze. Then I tasted blood.

He didn’t move; a Vampony’s victim will be paralyzed when they are bitten. The more blood I drank, the stronger I felt and the weaker he got. He soon collapsed, his legs swinging comically like flails and his armor crashing on the stone. I went back down to the broken flesh at his neck and continued to drink; I drank until his heartbeat stopped.

I pulled back and wiped my lips. The stallion’s face was frozen in a look of terror. His eyes were watery and his nose was running. I didn’t feel remorse. He hadn’t harmed me personally, not until I attacked him. I left his corpse there without searching it. I didn’t need anything of his.

I felt fantastic.

* * *

I hadn’t thought about my last contract at all. I was supposed to kill somepony for Will-o-Wisp. She wanted me dead.

Nightshade was the one who got the contract from Nightmare Moon. I doubt she was unaware of Will-o-Wisp’s intentions, but she relayed the contract to Nightshade. That thought troubled me all the way home. The sun had nearly caught me by the time I made it indoors.

I slammed the door behind me and closed the shutters on my single window. I felt the burn of the small bit of sunlight that was coming from it. I stared at the burn a moment, rubbing it. Burns from the sun aren’t like burns from fire. When you’re a Vampony your skin burns as if you were on fire. Too much exposure—a minute of direct sunlight, I’d say—and you’re skin will turn to ash. I hadn’t had that bad of a burn before, but I’ve seen what the sun can do to a Vampony. I learn from others’ mistakes. The burns didn’t heal as quickly as being opened up by a sword but they healed much faster than if I were mortal.

I looked up at my cottage. It looked like a piece of trash that marred the beauty of the forest when I wasn’t here to keep up with it. Raccoons were the biggest offenders. They would chew holes in my walls and go inside and eat my food. I’ve caught a few but didn’t have the heart to kill them.

I’d really missed it though. I always missed it when I left. I thought it was time for another fire. The cold didn’t bother me but I wanted a fire to welcome myself home.

I wasn’t hungry for food and I wasn’t tired. My journal needed an update, so that’s what I did. That particular update was even longer than the last despite spanning a much shorter period of time. I couldn’t spare any details on the world beneath Equestria. I wanted to go back down there someday. I wouldn’t have to worry about the sun and I was more than prepared to handle any number of those creatures. I never went back down there.

After I finished my journal update I sprawled out on my bed and stared at the ceiling and kept thinking about the last contract. I would need to bring that to Nightshade. I thought that surely there couldn’t be a traitor among us.

I wasn’t tired, but I forced myself to sleep.

* * *

I dreamt again of my time with the bandits. I did most nights. Sometimes I only relive the moments. Other times I am there as I am now—a grown mare with a deadly set of skills—but unable to do anything except watch.

This night it was the former and for that I was glad. The latter is worse than any nightmare you could possibly have.

I shuffled to the shutters and threw them open and was hit by the light of the setting sun that was filtered through the clouds. It didn’t burn as the midday sun did, but it was uncomfortably hot.

I passed the time by reading a book. This one I was reading had been given to me by Moonshield. It was one she had picked up during a contract. It was about the Hoofington Ripper. It was labeled Nonfiction but I have the authority to say that it’s not.

The book put my body count at eighty-seven and made sure to add in that twelve of the victims were foals. That at least doubles the hatred toward the evil pony in question. They were wrong about my body count.

That was just how many of my victims they had found.

I’ve killed and skinned two-hundred and nine ponies in my time. More than twelve of them were foals. I can’t even recall how many ponies I’ve killed altogether in my life. They all wouldn’t go toward my body count since I didn’t skin every pony I killed and there were times when I was honestly defending myself.

I considered writing a book, an autobiography, setting the records straight. I was the only one who knew everything. The authorities only knew a tiny fraction of the details.

I went outside when the sun went down. I wasn’t hungry yet and didn’t have anything of importance to do. The wild is beautiful at night and I wanted to see it again. It was still cold but I couldn’t tell you how cold. There was no snow in the air. Bats would fly overhead and I would see them before they passed in front of the moon.

Nothing exciting happened on my walk. The thought about my last contract was still troubling me. I decided to bring my troubles to Nightshade. He could always help me when I needed it. Nightshade lived in his own manor in Canterlot. One of the many perks of being the Listener is having more bits than you can spend.

I went around to the back side of his house and went down the hatch leading into the cellar. The cellar was mostly bare with wooden crates scattered about. It could have been neater, but I’d seen worse.

I went up the stairs that lead into his den. He was sitting in a large, comfortable-looking chair, reading a book. A fire burned on the far side of the room. I like the smell of burning wood. It’s very comforting to me. There was an ornate end table next to it with an identical chair on the other side. I sat in the other chair.

“You never come to visit here unless you need my help,” he said without looking up from his book. “What do you need?”

“Help.”

He snapped his book shut and looked at me. “With?”

I told him all that happened after the last time I saw him, excluding the vampirism bits. As far as he knew, I came straight here after crawling out of the abyss.

“You’re a hard mare to kill, aren’t you?”

“Harder still.” I smiled. If only he knew just how hard I was to kill then.

His expression straightened. “This is, of course, a serious matter. If the Brotherhood has been compromised, we must find this traitor. I don’t like killing my family. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Whenever there are suspicions of a traitor in the Brotherhood, said traitor is tracked to their chapter and that whole chapter is killed to ensure that the traitor is dead. Nightshade was wrong in not resorting to this Purification right away, but I understood why he hesitated. I’ve had to do it once. The worst part is that I never learned who the traitor was. I know that I killed the traitor though.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me find this traitor, would you?” he asked. “It seems like you have more reason than any to kill her.”

“So the traitor’s a mare? How do you know?”

“No, I just assumed, Shimmerstrike. You mares outnumber us stallions by quite a bit. It’s more likely that the traitor is a mare.” That made sense. It seems like there are ten mares for every stallion in Equestria.

“Of course.” I just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll see what I can find out. Be subtle, Shimmerstrike. If the traitor learns that he or she is being hunted, we’ll never find what we’re looking for. Speak only to me about this. If I find something, you’ll be the only one to know.”

I nodded. “Likewise.”

He nodded, then stared at me. “You look different. You actually look your age now.”

I didn’t want to tell him why I did. I wasn’t much over twenty years then but I always looked older from terrible sleep habits and poor diet—lack of a diet would be more accurate.

When there is a pony the Dread Father wanted, taking that pony’s life was more important to me than eating or sleeping, though after becoming a Vampony I didn’t need either. I’d lost my taste for food completely but I could sleep if I wanted. I always looked my youngest right after I fed. I once went two months without feeding. By then I looked like a monster. I was also stronger than I’ve ever been. Much stronger. A Vampony who could fast for years could probably rival the Divines in power. Nopony has the will for that.

Nightshade was a year older than me, but he always put his health as a top priority. He would have been able to kill that stallion in Dead Mare’s Cairn. Will-o-Wisp too, I’d bet. I was tired when I fought that bear of a stallion. Nightshade would never go into a contract sleep deprived and hungry.

I took a few seconds to think of something to say. “I just needed a break is all.” Not masterfully deceptive but Nightshade never pressed me for information I didn’t want to give. He trusted me. I was suspicious of him though. Trusting ponies gets you killed. I’ve seen it happen.

“I’ll start my search tomorrow,” he said. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“No.”

“I have a spare bedroom. Eleven, actually.”

“That’s not why. I’m starting my search tonight.” Even the Listener didn’t his duties to the Dread Father more seriously than me. I was determined to find the traitor and I wouldn’t rest until I did. Honestly, I hadn’t felt tired since before the Vampony killed me.

“Best of luck to you then. Remember… speak of this to nopony but me.” He started toward his room, then stopped and felt around for something in his pockets. “Ah, before I forget,” he pulled out a letter. “Another contract. For you.”

I didn’t want a contract. I could have declined but that would have looked bad. I took the letter and opened it and read it as Nightshade went to bed.

It wasn’t even an important target, just another nopony. I’m glad it was. One of the benefits of being a Speaker is having a Silencer. You’ve already heard of Moonshield, who was mine. I would take the letter to her and she would carry out the contract. I didn’t usually trust her with my contracts, not that she was incompetent. She was very talented, but it was my name on the line if she failed. If she failed, she would die. I liked to think of her as a close friend, so I didn’t want her to die for a contract I was supposed to complete.

* * *

I left through the cellar. I threw the hatch open and jumped into the crisp, cold air without a sound and shut the cellar door back and snapped the lock shut. The cold comforted me, made me feel safe for some strange reason.

The streets of Canterlot are nice at night. They’re empty. Anypony with at least half a brain doesn’t wander the streets at night. That was my doing. I killed four ponies who decided to take a midnight stroll. One was a stallion who was part of a contract. Another was an orphan colt who was sickly, a mercy killing. Third was a stallion who tried to take my bits. I didn’t even have any but I killed him anyways. The most recent was a mare just a few days before the start of my story. She hadn’t done anything to me and wasn’t memorable. I just didn’t like her face.

I used my usual methods when acting as the Ripper and the citizens assumed that I’d strike again and decided to stay inside. I thought it was funny. As if a locked door ever stopped the Hoofington Ripper.

A strong breeze was blowing, creating small spirals of snow in places. The signs from the shops swung back and forth, their chains rattling, creating an eerie soundtrack for the barren streets. Nopony was up. Nopony was out.

I pulled my hood over my head and started toward the city gate. There was nopony out, but the guards would be watching. It is illegal for Pegasi to fly over the city gates. You will have a bounty for trying until you are proven innocent of the crime they imagined. It’s illegal for Unicorns to teleport too, but it’s harder to catch them, and even harder for them to actually teleport. Only a few Unicorns can do it.

With my cloak on I was an Earth or a Unicorn pony for all they knew. They only had one guard at the gate, which was weird because they normally guarded in pairs. She was a Pegasus mare holding a spear. All city guards are Pegasi so they can catch other Pegasi who try to fly over the wall. The road guards are usually Earth ponies. The other one was either patrolling the city or using the bucket, which I always thought was disgusting—it’s cleaner to go in the woods. I stepped closer to the gate, more sure that she would stop me with every step.

“Halt!”

I stopped and looked at her from beneath my hood. She couldn’t have seen my face. My picture had been sent to every city in Equestria, I’m sure, and I know the ponies of Equestria cried in fear from the news of my escape. If she recognized me I would have to kill her. As long as I didn’t skin her I’d be all right. She was tall and knelt down to try and see under my hood.

“Where are you headed at this hour?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“The wilds of Equestria aren’t safe for a little mare like you. Least of all at night. We have bandits, snow tigers, bears… even,” she looked right then left, “Wereponies.”

And Vamponies, I thought. “Let me pass.”

“I’m gonna need to see your face then. Just in case I need a suspect’s description tomorrow,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “Take your hood off.”

I was afraid for a moment. She would recognize me, I knew it. They plastered my face all over Equestria I’m sure. I pulled my hood down and looked up at her while she studied my face. Her eyes shot wide and I saw terror in her face.

“You’re the Hoo…” She grasped at her throat, trying to keep the blood from pouring out. I was gone before she hit the ground.

Her partner shouldn’t have left. She might have lived.

I heard the bells ringing from a quarter-mile away. They were deep and loud, waking everypony in the city. They found the guard. They never found me. I laughed softly to myself as I walked the roads. Then I took to the skies.

* * *

I returned to the town the next morning. I didn’t need to keep my hood up. The morning sun was weak and I had fed not too long ago. The guard I killed was still there and the townsponies were gathered around her corpse. Her dried blood made a big brown circle beneath her body, staining the white stonework of the walkway. I went to examine her just like one of the townsponies. A mare in a leather coat spotted me as soon as I got to her and yelled to me. She was levitating a scroll that she was scribbling on with a black and white quill.

“You there!” she waved her hoof at me. “Come here now.” I walked over innocently.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“Poor mare had her throat cut last night. You didn’t see anypony here last night did you?”

“No.”

Her hat rose from her head, wrapped in green magic. Her eyes began to glow and I felt her going through my mind. She was still for almost thirty seconds.

Kill her, the voices whispered.

I didn’t listen to them. Nightshade told me to keep a low profile and I killed another pony before I even left the city. But then I began to think to myself, Do it. You can get away with it. You know you can. I could have. But I still didn’t listen.

The magic faded.

That was the reason I hated Unicorns most of all. They used that spell to tell if a pony is lying. Some of the higher-level Unicorns can even read your mind or see your memories through your eyes. I guessed she wasn’t so competent. It was easy to fool a Unicorn new to that magic; I could fool a fairly adept one. This was how they knew my name and what I’d done when I was captured, from the beginning of my story, you remember. I was unconscious when they went through my memories, unable to resist them.

“Hm, I guess you’re all right, then.”

“Sorry. I just got here from Ponyville. I’ve only been here twice before.”

“When was the last time?”

“When I was ten years old.”

“Ah, what brings you back?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Fair enough. Well, if you don’t have any information on this murder, it’s probably best that you go your own way. Every time I run off these ponies, another group replaces them.”

“Have you threatened to kill them if they don’t leave?”

She was speechless for a few moments. “Uh… no, I don’t believe I have. I’d lose my job for that.”

I shrugged. “It would work on me.” Then I walked away. I wanted a drink. Not water. I went to the tavern.

There were several stallions and mares gathered around the hearth in the center, all waving their mugs around merrily. I went to the owner at the bar and asked if they had strawberry wine.

“Oh, yes, a nice vintage. It might be a bit steep for you, though.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I just figured…” She was eyeing my frazzled mane. It looked surprisingly good if I took the time to groom myself. The fact that I was wearing tattered robes didn’t help.

“That I didn’t have money?”

“Do you have money?”

“How much?”

“Eighty bits. I’ll throw in a nice meal for another ten.”

“Just the wine,” I said. I threw the bits on the counter. She swept them off with her hoof and went to the back. She returned with an elegant-looking bottle, black glass with a beautiful red label that had patterns of vines cut out, revealing the glass beneath.

“You forgot the glass,” I told her.

“You… want a glass?” She seemed puzzled, looking at all the ponies drinking their spirits out of the bottles.

“Yes, I want a glass.” I always drank wine from a glass. I might have been a murderer, but I believe etiquette is something everypony should practice, even if only a little.

“All right.” She gave me a glass. The glass was opaque with grime, probably the cleanest I’d have found in that dump. I leaned in to her ear.

“Insult me like that again and I’ll cut your face from your head.” She cowered back slightly, staring at me with her huge eyes.

I uncorked the bottle and the smell of strawberries filled the tavern. I smiled. Then a large mare yelled.

“Hey! Who is drinking that fairy drink?!”

I ignored her and filled my glass, still smiling. The mare was walking around the tavern, looking for the one with the fairy drink. I took a sip of my wine. Then she saw my fairy drink. She was an ugly mare—probably the ugliest mare I’ve ever seen—bigger than most stallions and scarred up. It looked like her crooked muzzle had been broken several times. Her coat was white but nearly black with dirt, and her mane was a dirty yellow like her teeth.

“Aye, it’s you then,” she said.

“Yes.”

“We drink proper northern drinks here. Pour that weak trash out.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

She reached for my bottle but I got to it first. I wrapped my hoof around the neck and launched it into her face. The glass struck her square in the muzzle, making a hollow thump, but didn’t shatter. Drops of blood came from her left nostril and she stared at me as she dabbed the blood with her hoof then licked it. I heard the patrons gasp.

“I’m going to kill you now, filly.”

She reached her hoof back and slammed it to my face. The world spun and I was on my back, leaning against the wall. She grabbed the stool she knocked me off of and threw it at me. I didn’t move, just raised my hooves to protect my face.

One of the legs broke off and she threw another one. It didn’t break. I stood up and shook the splinters out of my mane, ready to brawl with the giant mare. She was stronger than me but very slow. I dodged several blows, weaving in between her legs and hitting her in the back of the head.

She caught on after the fifth time. I went behind her and she kicked with both back legs. My ribs were broken again but I could hear the clicking sound of them mending as soon as they were broken.

The patrons were all cheering the mare on, cheering her name.

“Ironclad! Ironclad!”

She was Ironclad the Unbreakable, the toughest pony in Equestria, and she was picking a fight with a tiny mare she didn’t even know because the tiny mare wanted strawberry wine. Oh, I aimed to make her pay for that.

I grabbed hold of a stool and spun around with all my strength which was greater than I thought because of the vampirism. The stool struck her on the side of the head and she reeled back.

“My ear! You bastard, that was my ear!” Blood was streaming down the side of her face.

“Oh?”

I leapt up to her head and bit down on the ear the stool struck. She screamed and pushed me down. Her ear went with me with a nasty snap and a blood-curdling scream from its former owner. It tasted disgusting. She hadn’t bathed in a year, I’d guessed. I started pummeling at the wound, beating her until she yielded. Her head bounced off the floor with every blow. She was crying before I let up, actually crying. The patrons looked at us in awe.

I left the tavern casually. I turned to see three ponies trying to help the giant mare to hear hooves. She shoved them all back and got up on her own.

* * *

What I did next was close to breaking one of the Tenets. I told you Nightshade trusted me. I didn’t trust him. Not then. Nightmare Moon gave him the contract. She knew Will-o-Wisp would try to kill me; Nightmare Moon knows everything. She would have told Nightshade. This was suspicious enough to follow up on.

I entered his home through the cellar again. He would be gone, searching for the traitor. He was slow and careful in his work, always paying attention to detail. I knew this and I knew that everything must look exactly as it did from the time I broke in.

I knew his home well. I lived with him for nearly a year when I first joined the Brotherhood. He was always kind to me despite being a murderer, kinder even than my own parents—or at least the way I remember them. It’s hard to picture them at all now and that makes me sad.

If he hid something proving that he was a traitor, I wasn’t sure where to start looking for it. He certainly wouldn’t put it in his room. Would he? I checked his room just to be sure.

His room looked very different than the last time I’d been in it. His desk was the only thing that was in the same place, in front of one of the windows. He liked to do all his writing at night under the light of the moon. That window looked down into the streets which are crowded during the day. That can be distracting.

There was a sheet of blank parchment on his desk. An inkwell sat on the upper corner to keep it from being blown off the desk, and a quill sat inside the inkwell. Then I saw the stack of letters.

“Easy…” I said to myself. I figured he knew the order these letters were in. Maybe he didn’t but I wasn’t going to risk it. I paid attention to each letter I read, placing them back in the correct order, and set them back just as they were.

The first was a letter to the Listener from a chapter in another country, one I hadn’t heard of. Nightshade was requesting the company of a Speaker. His wastebasket was full of crumpled notes. They were rough drafts of this one. He finally got it right.

The second was a letter to a mare that he was interested in. She didn’t know what he did to earn his living. I’d seen her once. She was a nice mare, very friendly, always happy. Nightshade was the same way, but he was false. I don’t think she was a good match for him.

The third was a letter from Malice and a letter to her that he hadn’t sent yet. The letter from her was thanking him for one of the new recruits that turned out to be exceptional. I could have easily killed her but, for a new recruit, she was exceptional.

Then there was a letter to her.

The letter to her was for a contract. A noble from Baltimare wanted somepony dead, the meeting place would be Dead Mare’s Cairn. He specifically told Malice to send me.

I was devastated, more hurt than I’d been since my parents were killed. Nightshade lied to me. He aimed to send me to my death. But for what? I’d done nothing wrong. It didn’t matter.

He was the traitor. He would send me on a goose chase to find this traitor while he came up with another way to have me killed. I crumpled the letter and threw it to the floor. It rolled under his bed. I didn’t care if he found it.

I found what I’d came for, and much more quickly than I thought I would. Sometimes you get small favors like that.

I left through the front door, leaving it wide open out of spite, and pulled out my contract to read again. Another attempt to kill me, I was sure of it. I decided not to send Moonshield. She couldn’t be trusted. I could only trust myself.

The streets were beginning to get crowded. A mare bumped into me as I passed and knocked me down. She only glanced at me with contempt then started to walk away. I wanted to stab her but I didn’t. Instead, I got up and started going over the letter again.

That dream wasn’t a dream—not completely.

I did awake to my own screaming and rushed from the sunlight that poured into the window of the Vampony’s cottage. My naked right side smoked from the sunlight and the pain lingered shortly after I took cover. I felt what I imagined was like being on fire. I’ve never been set on fire before. My hide hissed for a few seconds.

Other than the burning, I felt perfectly healthy.

And I felt…

I turned around to see my beloved wings on my shoulders. There was still blood around their bases from the old wounds. I felt like a foal that had just walked into their own surprise party; I was in stunned silence then tried to fly around the cottage in glee. My wings wouldn’t lift me from the floor. Moving was difficult at first but became easier the more I tried. I can say that we Pegasi don’t appreciate our wings like we should. I had to have them bitten off to realize just how important they were to me.

The happiness was nearly cut short when I realized how I’d gotten them back. I’d been infected by the Vampony, that was obvious. There aren’t many other ways for a pony to regenerate a limb. I knew it would be a major change in my life but I didn’t care. I was tired of hurting and being a Vampony wasn’t enough to make me miserable.

What did make me miserable was waiting for the moon. I’ve waited full days for a target during a contract, but waiting for the moon was different. The day dragged on until I was nearly willing to rush into the sun. I knew the sunlight hurt me but I wasn’t sure if it could kill me. The burning went away after a few minutes.

I crawled back onto the bed and stretched out. I immediately wanted to get up because I felt that I had been down too long. The air in the cottage was very stale.

It was worth the wait when the moon came. The definition of the night was much sharper. Anypony in their right mind would tell you that the night is a beautiful thing, but I’d have been envious of the Vamponies if I’d known what their nights were like. I could see and hear every flake of snow that blew in the wind. The cold that used to sting me caressed my coat. The wind whistled a soothing tune in my ears.

The forest seemed to beckon me to it, the friendly branches gesturing me in. They looked ominous enough to frighten a timid pony but I couldn’t help thinking that they were my friends. They seemed as alive as the animals that lived inside. Plants are living things, but it was different now. Ponies generally don’t think of plants that way, but I saw them the same as a dog or a bird then, like they had feelings. I obliged them and stepped inside.

The canopy was blocking the moon but I had no trouble seeing the clear path before me. I saw every root and rock sticking out of the ground. For a while I just roamed the forest, admiring everything I’d always taken for granted. I was so quiet stepping through the wood that even the deer didn’t notice me as I was right on them.

It was about an hour later that I felt a strange hunger. I’d never felt a craving like that before, but it didn’t take long to figure out what I needed.

I needed to find somepony.

* * *

My first victim was to be a guard pony that was patrolling the roads, a thick Earth stallion carrying a torch to light the way and a sword at his flank. He looked straight ahead as he walked, not looking into the forests that were on either side of him.

He was a lone stallion, and that’s all it took to convince me to attack.

The guards that patrol the roads are the most competent—I think—of all. This one saw a crazy mare charging him and quickly drew his blade to defend himself. I dodged his first strike and struck him with my hoof.

He rolled once and quickly got back up with a look of surprise. I lunged at him again and felt his blade rip through my coat. It barely hurt, like scraping your coat on thorns. I almost didn’t notice. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t heard my flesh mending on its own. It was a sick sound, like a hoof pressing down into thick mud. I looked down at where the wound had nearly closed.

“Ew…” I said with a grimace. It had begun to hurt just when it closed up. I jumped with surprise and didn’t feel the pain any more.

The guard stood still with eyes wide. “What are you?”

I started toward him again. I thought he would cut me again but that time he slammed his torch down on my head. Embers flew in every direction and my head felt like it was on fire. I patted my smoking mane before it ignited. The stallion fled.

I watched him flee for a moment, rubbing my head and trying to hold back my laughter but not being able to keep in a few giggles. I’m not sure why, but I thought it was funny that he’d hit me with a torch. That’s not something you hear about very often, and even less so when they have a blade to swing.

The guard turned a wide corner and disappeared behind a small hill. I shook the ashes from my head and gave chase.

Flight had never been so effortless as it was then. I thought I’d still fly even if I stopped flapping my wings. Flight is generally enjoyable for all Pegasi, but with my heightened senses, it was even better.

Over the hill was a small fort. The door was blocked off by rubble that had fallen from the level above it where ponies would stand watch. A small tent was erected not far from the pile. The blanket underneath looked crispy, like it had been rained on then left to dry countless times. I could see that some spots were crispier than others. Just outside the tent was a burlap sack. The stale smell of corn came from it. I never liked corn that much.

I heard the faintest scrape of metal on stone coming from the level above me. I knew it was the guard. I knew exactly where he was. He knew—or thought—that I was just below him and that I would come up through the hole above the door to the fort, but I’m not a stupid pony.

He didn’t notice me behind him. I doubt he expected me to come from anywhere but that hole. I watched him a few moments. He stood with his blade pointed at where he thought my head would poke up. His breath was sharp, quick, the breath of a pony who fears for their life. He’d breath heavily a few times, then swallow and look around. The swallowing sound was almost as nasty as when I healed after being cut open.

I flew down beside him unnoticed. He was too focused on that hole. I waited, amused that he didn’t notice me right next to him. The second level was empty save for a few rotted wooden crates and a single sleeping bag that looked even more abandoned as the one below. Mildew covered the top and I could see mushrooms inside of it.

I cleared my throat and he froze. Then I tasted blood.

He didn’t move; a Vampony’s victim will be paralyzed when they are bitten. The more blood I drank, the stronger I felt and the weaker he got. He soon collapsed, his legs swinging comically like flails and his armor crashing on the stone. I went back down to the broken flesh at his neck and continued to drink; I drank until his heartbeat stopped.

I pulled back and wiped my lips. The stallion’s face was frozen in a look of terror. His eyes were watery and his nose was running. I didn’t feel remorse. He hadn’t harmed me personally, not until I attacked him. I left his corpse there without searching it. I didn’t need anything of his.

I felt fantastic.

* * *

I hadn’t thought about my last contract at all. I was supposed to kill somepony for Will-o-Wisp. She wanted me dead.

Nightshade was the one who got the contract from Nightmare Moon. I doubt she was unaware of Will-o-Wisp’s intentions, but she relayed the contract to Nightshade. That thought troubled me all the way home. The sun had nearly caught me by the time I made it indoors.

I slammed the door behind me and closed the shutters on my single window. I felt the burn of the small bit of sunlight that was coming from it. I stared at the burn a moment, rubbing it. Burns from the sun aren’t like burns from fire. When you’re a Vampony your skin burns as if you were on fire. Too much exposure—a minute of direct sunlight, I’d say—and you’re skin will turn to ash. I hadn’t had that bad of a burn before, but I’ve seen what the sun can do to a Vampony. I learn from others’ mistakes. The burns didn’t heal as quickly as being opened up by a sword but they healed much faster than if I were mortal.

I looked up at my cottage. It looked like a piece of trash that marred the beauty of the forest when I wasn’t here to keep up with it. Raccoons were the biggest offenders. They would chew holes in my walls and go inside and eat my food. I’ve caught a few but didn’t have the heart to kill them.

I’d really missed it though. I always missed it when I left. I thought it was time for another fire. The cold didn’t bother me but I wanted a fire to welcome myself home.

I wasn’t hungry for food and I wasn’t tired. My journal needed an update, so that’s what I did. That particular update was even longer than the last despite spanning a much shorter period of time. I couldn’t spare any details on the world beneath Equestria. I wanted to go back down there someday. I wouldn’t have to worry about the sun and I was more than prepared to handle any number of those creatures. I never went back down there.

After I finished my journal update I sprawled out on my bed and stared at the ceiling and kept thinking about the last contract. I would need to bring that to Nightshade. I thought that surely there couldn’t be a traitor among us.

I wasn’t tired, but I forced myself to sleep.

* * *

I dreamt again of my time with the bandits. I did most nights. Sometimes I only relive the moments. Other times I am there as I am now—a grown mare with a deadly set of skills—but unable to do anything except watch.

This night it was the former and for that I was glad. The latter is worse than any nightmare you could possibly have.

I shuffled to the shutters and threw them open and was hit by the light of the setting sun that was filtered through the clouds. It didn’t burn as the midday sun did, but it was uncomfortably hot.

I passed the time by reading a book. This one I was reading had been given to me by Moonshield. It was one she had picked up during a contract. It was about the Hoofington Ripper. It was labeled Nonfiction but I have the authority to say that it’s not.

The book put my body count at eighty-seven and made sure to add in that twelve of the victims were foals. That at least doubles the hatred toward the evil pony in question. They were wrong about my body count.

That was just how many of my victims they had found.

I’ve killed and skinned two-hundred and nine ponies in my time. More than twelve of them were foals. I can’t even recall how many ponies I’ve killed altogether in my life. They all wouldn’t go toward my body count since I didn’t skin every pony I killed and there were times when I was honestly defending myself.

I considered writing a book, an autobiography, setting the records straight. I was the only one who knew everything. The authorities only knew a tiny fraction of the details.

I went outside when the sun went down. I wasn’t hungry yet and didn’t have anything of importance to do. The wild is beautiful at night and I wanted to see it again. It was still cold but I couldn’t tell you how cold. There was no snow in the air. Bats would fly overhead and I would see them before they passed in front of the moon.

Nothing exciting happened on my walk. The thought about my last contract was still troubling me. I decided to bring my troubles to Nightshade. He could always help me when I needed it. Nightshade lived in his own manor in Canterlot. One of the many perks of being the Listener is having more bits than you can spend.

I went around to the back side of his house and went down the hatch leading into the cellar. The cellar was mostly bare with wooden crates scattered about. It could have been neater, but I’d seen worse.

I went up the stairs that lead into his den. He was sitting in a large, comfortable-looking chair, reading a book. A fire burned on the far side of the room. I like the smell of burning wood. It’s very comforting to me. There was an ornate end table next to it with an identical chair on the other side. I sat in the other chair.

“You never come to visit here unless you need my help,” he said without looking up from his book. “What do you need?”

“Help.”

He snapped his book shut and looked at me. “With?”

I told him all that happened after the last time I saw him, excluding the vampirism bits. As far as he knew, I came straight here after crawling out of the abyss.

“You’re a hard mare to kill, aren’t you?”

“Harder still.” I smiled. If only he knew just how hard I was to kill then.

His expression straightened. “This is, of course, a serious matter. If the Brotherhood has been compromised, we must find this traitor. I don’t like killing my family. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Whenever there are suspicions of a traitor in the Brotherhood, said traitor is tracked to their chapter and that whole chapter is killed to ensure that the traitor is dead. Nightshade was wrong in not resorting to this Purification right away, but I understood why he hesitated. I’ve had to do it once. The worst part is that I never learned who the traitor was. I know that I killed the traitor though.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me find this traitor, would you?” he asked. “It seems like you have more reason than any to kill her.”

“So the traitor’s a mare? How do you know?”

“No, I just assumed, Shimmerstrike. You mares outnumber us stallions by quite a bit. It’s more likely that the traitor is a mare.” That made sense. It seems like there are ten mares for every stallion in Equestria.

“Of course.” I just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll see what I can find out. Be subtle, Shimmerstrike. If the traitor learns that he or she is being hunted, we’ll never find what we’re looking for. Speak only to me about this. If I find something, you’ll be the only one to know.”

I nodded. “Likewise.”

He nodded, then stared at me. “You look different. You actually look your age now.”

I didn’t want to tell him why I did. I wasn’t much over twenty years then but I always looked older from terrible sleep habits and poor diet—lack of a diet would be more accurate.

When there is a pony the Dread Father wanted, taking that pony’s life was more important to me than eating or sleeping, though after becoming a Vampony I didn’t need either. I’d lost my taste for food completely but I could sleep if I wanted. I always looked my youngest right after I fed. I once went two months without feeding. By then I looked like a monster. I was also stronger than I’ve ever been. Much stronger. A Vampony who could fast for years could probably rival the Divines in power. Nopony has the will for that.

Nightshade was a year older than me, but he always put his health as a top priority. He would have been able to kill that stallion in Dead Mare’s Cairn. Will-o-Wisp too, I’d bet. I was tired when I fought that bear of a stallion. Nightshade would never go into a contract sleep deprived and hungry.

I took a few seconds to think of something to say. “I just needed a break is all.” Not masterfully deceptive but Nightshade never pressed me for information I didn’t want to give. He trusted me. I was suspicious of him though. Trusting ponies gets you killed. I’ve seen it happen.

“I’ll start my search tomorrow,” he said. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“No.”

“I have a spare bedroom. Eleven, actually.”

“That’s not why. I’m starting my search tonight.” Even the Listener didn’t his duties to the Dread Father more seriously than me. I was determined to find the traitor and I wouldn’t rest until I did. Honestly, I hadn’t felt tired since before the Vampony killed me.

“Best of luck to you then. Remember… speak of this to nopony but me.” He started toward his room, then stopped and felt around for something in his pockets. “Ah, before I forget,” he pulled out a letter. “Another contract. For you.”

I didn’t want a contract. I could have declined but that would have looked bad. I took the letter and opened it and read it as Nightshade went to bed.

It wasn’t even an important target, just another nopony. I’m glad it was. One of the benefits of being a Speaker is having a Silencer. You’ve already heard of Moonshield, who was mine. I would take the letter to her and she would carry out the contract. I didn’t usually trust her with my contracts, not that she was incompetent. She was very talented, but it was my name on the line if she failed. If she failed, she would die. I liked to think of her as a close friend, so I didn’t want her to die for a contract I was supposed to complete.

* * *

I left through the cellar. I threw the hatch open and jumped into the crisp, cold air without a sound and shut the cellar door back and snapped the lock shut. The cold comforted me, made me feel safe for some strange reason.

The streets of Canterlot are nice at night. They’re empty. Anypony with at least half a brain doesn’t wander the streets at night. That was my doing. I killed four ponies who decided to take a midnight stroll. One was a stallion who was part of a contract. Another was an orphan colt who was sickly, a mercy killing. Third was a stallion who tried to take my bits. I didn’t even have any but I killed him anyways. The most recent was a mare just a few days before the start of my story. She hadn’t done anything to me and wasn’t memorable. I just didn’t like her face.

I used my usual methods when acting as the Ripper and the citizens assumed that I’d strike again and decided to stay inside. I thought it was funny. As if a locked door ever stopped the Hoofington Ripper.

A strong breeze was blowing, creating small spirals of snow in places. The signs from the shops swung back and forth, their chains rattling, creating an eerie soundtrack for the barren streets. Nopony was up. Nopony was out.

I pulled my hood over my head and started toward the city gate. There was nopony out, but the guards would be watching. It is illegal for Pegasi to fly over the city gates. You will have a bounty for trying until you are proven innocent of the crime they imagined. It’s illegal for Unicorns to teleport too, but it’s harder to catch them, and even harder for them to actually teleport. Only a few Unicorns can do it.

With my cloak on I was an Earth or a Unicorn pony for all they knew. They only had one guard at the gate, which was weird because they normally guarded in pairs. She was a Pegasus mare holding a spear. All city guards are Pegasi so they can catch other Pegasi who try to fly over the wall. The road guards are usually Earth ponies. The other one was either patrolling the city or using the bucket, which I always thought was disgusting—it’s cleaner to go in the woods. I stepped closer to the gate, more sure that she would stop me with every step.

“Halt!”

I stopped and looked at her from beneath my hood. She couldn’t have seen my face. My picture had been sent to every city in Equestria, I’m sure, and I know the ponies of Equestria cried in fear from the news of my escape. If she recognized me I would have to kill her. As long as I didn’t skin her I’d be all right. She was tall and knelt down to try and see under my hood.

“Where are you headed at this hour?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“The wilds of Equestria aren’t safe for a little mare like you. Least of all at night. We have bandits, snow tigers, bears… even,” she looked right then left, “Wereponies.”

And Vamponies, I thought. “Let me pass.”

“I’m gonna need to see your face then. Just in case I need a suspect’s description tomorrow,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “Take your hood off.”

I was afraid for a moment. She would recognize me, I knew it. They plastered my face all over Equestria I’m sure. I pulled my hood down and looked up at her while she studied my face. Her eyes shot wide and I saw terror in her face.

“You’re the Hoo…” She grasped at her throat, trying to keep the blood from pouring out. I was gone before she hit the ground.

Her partner shouldn’t have left. She might have lived.

I heard the bells ringing from a quarter-mile away. They were deep and loud, waking everypony in the city. They found the guard. They never found me. I laughed softly to myself as I walked the roads. Then I took to the skies.

* * *

I returned to the town the next morning. I didn’t need to keep my hood up. The morning sun was weak and I had fed not too long ago. The guard I killed was still there and the townsponies were gathered around her corpse. Her dried blood made a big brown circle beneath her body, staining the white stonework of the walkway. I went to examine her just like one of the townsponies. A mare in a leather coat spotted me as soon as I got to her and yelled to me. She was levitating a scroll that she was scribbling on with a black and white quill.

“You there!” she waved her hoof at me. “Come here now.” I walked over innocently.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“Poor mare had her throat cut last night. You didn’t see anypony here last night did you?”

“No.”

Her hat rose from her head, wrapped in green magic. Her eyes began to glow and I felt her going through my mind. She was still for almost thirty seconds.

Kill her, the voices whispered.

I didn’t listen to them. Nightshade told me to keep a low profile and I killed another pony before I even left the city. But then I began to think to myself, Do it. You can get away with it. You know you can. I could have. But I still didn’t listen.

The magic faded.

That was the reason I hated Unicorns most of all. They used that spell to tell if a pony is lying. Some of the higher-level Unicorns can even read your mind or see your memories through your eyes. I guessed she wasn’t so competent. It was easy to fool a Unicorn new to that magic; I could fool a fairly adept one. This was how they knew my name and what I’d done when I was captured, from the beginning of my story, you remember. I was unconscious when they went through my memories, unable to resist them.

“Hm, I guess you’re all right, then.”

“Sorry. I just got here from Ponyville. I’ve only been here twice before.”

“When was the last time?”

“When I was ten years old.”

“Ah, what brings you back?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Fair enough. Well, if you don’t have any information on this murder, it’s probably best that you go your own way. Every time I run off these ponies, another group replaces them.”

“Have you threatened to kill them if they don’t leave?”

She was speechless for a few moments. “Uh… no, I don’t believe I have. I’d lose my job for that.”

I shrugged. “It would work on me.” Then I walked away. I wanted a drink. Not water. I went to the tavern.

There were several stallions and mares gathered around the hearth in the center, all waving their mugs around merrily. I went to the owner at the bar and asked if they had strawberry wine.

“Oh, yes, a nice vintage. It might be a bit steep for you, though.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I just figured…” She was eyeing my frazzled mane. It looked surprisingly good if I took the time to groom myself. The fact that I was wearing tattered robes didn’t help.

“That I didn’t have money?”

“Do you have money?”

“How much?”

“Eighty bits. I’ll throw in a nice meal for another ten.”

“Just the wine,” I said. I threw the bits on the counter. She swept them off with her hoof and went to the back. She returned with an elegant-looking bottle, black glass with a beautiful red label that had patterns of vines cut out, revealing the glass beneath.

“You forgot the glass,” I told her.

“You… want a glass?” She seemed puzzled, looking at all the ponies drinking their spirits out of the bottles.

“Yes, I want a glass.” I always drank wine from a glass. I might have been a murderer, but I believe etiquette is something everypony should practice, even if only a little.

“All right.” She gave me a glass. The glass was opaque with grime, probably the cleanest I’d have found in that dump. I leaned in to her ear.

“Insult me like that again and I’ll cut your face from your head.” She cowered back slightly, staring at me with her huge eyes.

I uncorked the bottle and the smell of strawberries filled the tavern. I smiled. Then a large mare yelled.

“Hey! Who is drinking that fairy drink?!”

I ignored her and filled my glass, still smiling. The mare was walking around the tavern, looking for the one with the fairy drink. I took a sip of my wine. Then she saw my fairy drink. She was an ugly mare—probably the ugliest mare I’ve ever seen—bigger than most stallions and scarred up. It looked like her crooked muzzle had been broken several times. Her coat was white but nearly black with dirt, and her mane was a dirty yellow like her teeth.

“Aye, it’s you then,” she said.

“Yes.”

“We drink proper northern drinks here. Pour that weak trash out.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

She reached for my bottle but I got to it first. I wrapped my hoof around the neck and launched it into her face. The glass struck her square in the muzzle, making a hollow thump, but didn’t shatter. Drops of blood came from her left nostril and she stared at me as she dabbed the blood with her hoof then licked it. I heard the patrons gasp.

“I’m going to kill you now, filly.”

She reached her hoof back and slammed it to my face. The world spun and I was on my back, leaning against the wall. She grabbed the stool she knocked me off of and threw it at me. I didn’t move, just raised my hooves to protect my face.

One of the legs broke off and she threw another one. It didn’t break. I stood up and shook the splinters out of my mane, ready to brawl with the giant mare. She was stronger than me but very slow. I dodged several blows, weaving in between her legs and hitting her in the back of the head.

She caught on after the fifth time. I went behind her and she kicked with both back legs. My ribs were broken again but I could hear the clicking sound of them mending as soon as they were broken.

The patrons were all cheering the mare on, cheering her name.

“Ironclad! Ironclad!”

She was Ironclad the Unbreakable, the toughest pony in Equestria, and she was picking a fight with a tiny mare she didn’t even know because the tiny mare wanted strawberry wine. Oh, I aimed to make her pay for that.

I grabbed hold of a stool and spun around with all my strength which was greater than I thought because of the vampirism. The stool struck her on the side of the head and she reeled back.

“My ear! You bastard, that was my ear!” Blood was streaming down the side of her face.

“Oh?”

I leapt up to her head and bit down on the ear the stool struck. She screamed and pushed me down. Her ear went with me with a nasty snap and a blood-curdling scream from its former owner. It tasted disgusting. She hadn’t bathed in a year, I’d guessed. I started pummeling at the wound, beating her until she yielded. Her head bounced off the floor with every blow. She was crying before I let up, actually crying. The patrons looked at us in awe.

I left the tavern casually. I turned to see three ponies trying to help the giant mare to hear hooves. She shoved them all back and got up on her own.

* * *

What I did next was close to breaking one of the Tenets. I told you Nightshade trusted me. I didn’t trust him. Not then. Nightmare Moon gave him the contract. She knew Will-o-Wisp would try to kill me; Nightmare Moon knows everything. She would have told Nightshade. This was suspicious enough to follow up on.

I entered his home through the cellar again. He would be gone, searching for the traitor. He was slow and careful in his work, always paying attention to detail. I knew this and I knew that everything must look exactly as it did from the time I broke in.

I knew his home well. I lived with him for nearly a year when I first joined the Brotherhood. He was always kind to me despite being a murderer, kinder even than my own parents—or at least the way I remember them. It’s hard to picture them at all now and that makes me sad.

If he hid something proving that he was a traitor, I wasn’t sure where to start looking for it. He certainly wouldn’t put it in his room. Would he? I checked his room just to be sure.

His room looked very different than the last time I’d been in it. His desk was the only thing that was in the same place, in front of one of the windows. He liked to do all his writing at night under the light of the moon. That window looked down into the streets which are crowded during the day. That can be distracting.

There was a sheet of blank parchment on his desk. An inkwell sat on the upper corner to keep it from being blown off the desk, and a quill sat inside the inkwell. Then I saw the stack of letters.

“Easy…” I said to myself. I figured he knew the order these letters were in. Maybe he didn’t but I wasn’t going to risk it. I paid attention to each letter I read, placing them back in the correct order, and set them back just as they were.

The first was a letter to the Listener from a chapter in another country, one I hadn’t heard of. Nightshade was requesting the company of a Speaker. His wastebasket was full of crumpled notes. They were rough drafts of this one. He finally got it right.

The second was a letter to a mare that he was interested in. She didn’t know what he did to earn his living. I’d seen her once. She was a nice mare, very friendly, always happy. Nightshade was the same way, but he was false. I don’t think she was a good match for him.

The third was a letter from Malice and a letter to her that he hadn’t sent yet. The letter from her was thanking him for one of the new recruits that turned out to be exceptional. I could have easily killed her but, for a new recruit, she was exceptional.

Then there was a letter to her.

The letter to her was for a contract. A noble from Baltimare wanted somepony dead, the meeting place would be Dead Mare’s Cairn. He specifically told Malice to send me.

I was devastated, more hurt than I’d been since my parents were killed. Nightshade lied to me. He aimed to send me to my death. But for what? I’d done nothing wrong. It didn’t matter.

He was the traitor. He would send me on a goose chase to find this traitor while he came up with another way to have me killed. I crumpled the letter and threw it to the floor. It rolled under his bed. I didn’t care if he found it.

I found what I’d came for, and much more quickly than I thought I would. Sometimes you get small favors like that.

I left through the front door, leaving it wide open out of spite, and pulled out my contract to read again. Another attempt to kill me, I was sure of it. I decided not to send Moonshield. She couldn’t be trusted. I could only trust myself.

The streets were beginning to get crowded. A mare bumped into me as I passed and knocked me down. She only glanced at me with contempt then started to walk away. I wanted to stab her but I didn’t. Instead, I got up and started going over the letter again.

The target for that contract was in a series of caves that were named Bloodcrust Caverns by the ponies of Equestria. They got that name because of the monsters that lived inside. I couldn’t accept that he would be stupid enough to think I wouldn’t know where I was going. I’d been all over Equestria, and he knew that I was fascinated in stories of monsters that lived in Equestria.

They still fascinate me. You never know who—or what—we share this world with. Even if the stories are fake, they are still ones I like to hear, especially the scary ones.

I was curious as to what he had waiting for me down there…

* * *

The caves were just outside a small town about an hour from Canterlot—you could see Canterlot from the town on a clear day. This day was not clear. A storm rolled in roughly half of the way there and I was soaked in seconds. I almost landed out of fear of being struck by lightning, but I figured that if being ripped open by a sword didn’t kill me, then neither would lightning. I took my chances and didn’t get struck.

The caves weren’t hidden. It appeared to be a large pile of boulders with a hole in the middle, like a door, going down into the earth. Nopony was outside, and there were no signs of life.

There were signs of death, though nothing recent from what I could tell. A few incomplete skeletons were lying around the entrance. What would the guards do if this were reported? Nothing. If these ponies were stupid enough to come here alone or in that small of a group, then they would have been picked off sooner or later. Natural selection can be cruel.

I was hesitant at first. I knew what was down there, and I might have be going to my actual death, but if I did nothing, I’d face a much more pathetic death. At least that is what I told myself, and it was enough to convince me to put my fear aside.

I started to go inside, never before as cautious as I was then. I couldn’t hear anything but the storm and a very faint breeze blowing through the caves. My hooves made less noise than before; I couldn’t even hear them myself. Also, unlike before in my life, I felt as I should have. Sneaking around always made me timid, jumpy at every sound. I felt like a hunter, and whatever I was looking for was terrified that I’d find it.

At first, I was hoping that Nightshade was down there. If he was, I was going to kill him. After a minute I dismissed that thought. I tried to think of any way I might have misread the letter, or falsely jumped to a conclusion. I didn’t know everything yet, and I needed more evidence to resort to something that drastic.

If I was right all along, I was going to kill him. I’d kill anypony who had a hoof in that plot as well. Sithis was never kind to traitors and there are few things I loved more than sending them to him. The thought of it had me in a good mood.

All of those thoughts distracted me as I walked through the cave. I fantasized about what I was going to do to the ones who betrayed me if that plot did exist. And then voices pulled me from my reverie.

Two mares. A stallion too. They all had accents I hadn’t heard very often, the snobby accents the nobles usually put on for show. These ponies’ accents were authentic. They weren’t talking about anything important to me. It was like they weren’t expecting me at all. I didn’t think they would. Nightshade hadn’t send the letter yet.

“Who’s there?” one of them asked. It was one of the mares. I held my breath and stood still. I hadn’t come far enough to see them. Maybe she just heard a bat or something. “Wait here.” A chair scraped across stone. I didn’t hear hoofsteps.

“I know you’re here,” she said. “Save me the trouble. Come out, and I’ll kill you quickly.”

The mare’s shadow was cast on the wall just at the corner, from the light of candles I guessed. Her shadow was just a big blur. She could have been a pony, she could have been a dragon. I pawed at the dagger sheathed at my flank, taking no chances. She would die if she rounded that turn.

She rounded the corner and I stabbed. Nothing was there and I was looking at the ceiling then. Blood seeped into my eye. The tip of a longsword was at my throat. The ebony mare was standing over me.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I kicked her in the groin, pushed myself up with my wings, and stabbed her in the throat. She reeled back and fell, one hoof holding the wound, the other on her groin. I heard my flesh mending. I heard hers too. She gasped for air once the wound closed, looking at me. She healed much faster than I did. She put her sword away.

“You’d kill your own kind?” she said.

“You aren’t my kind.”

“Then where is your wound? I wasn’t born the night before. I’ve walked Equestria for a hundred years. You are a Vampony.”

She looked like a monster, a very old monster. She looked like the bastard offspring of a bat and a goblin, who then mated with a pony. She didn’t have an old voice though. It was the voice a middle-aged mare, almost motherly. Her wings looked like the wings of a bat and she had tufts of fur on the tips of her long, pointed ears. The tips of her fangs peaked from her lips. Mine weren’t nearly that long. You probably couldn’t have seen them unless I grinned.

I couldn’t really think of a response. All she did was point out the obvious. That was the first time I’d stabbed a pony in the throat without killing them. Suddenly I felt like prey again.

She wasn’t hostile. She stepped closer to me and looked into my eyes. “Only a fledgling. You can’t possibly have seen more than a moon. I’m not sure how you managed to get the best of me.”

“Killing is my business.”

“I hope your business wasn’t to come here to kill us. If so, you’re going to die.”

“I’ve heard that quite a few times, and here I am. Don’t threaten me.”

She scoffed. “You walked into my home and tried to kill me. I should have cut your head off.” I was getting angry. She remained calm. That made me angrier, but I never showed it. Anger is a weakness, it clouds the mind and gets you killed. I hesitated and she drew her sword again and pointed it at me. “So what will it be? Do you want to live or die?”

Death didn’t frighten me anymore. I’d always thought that death was the worst thing, something to be feared—until I died. I came back stronger than I could have ever hoped to be as a mortal pony. I might have been taking too much of an advantage of my accelerated healing. It made me less careful than before. If I wasn’t the slightest bit careful, I could wind up permanently dead. It didn’t scare me, but I wanted to live. I wasn’t done living yet.

But I wasn’t going to surrender. I did the only thing I could think of.

She almost put her sword through me. I side-stepped and bit into her neck. Her blood was disgusting, curdled. I got a mouthful of it the instant her flesh broke. I spit it out, along with some bile, then started to dry-heave.

She was thrusting her sword. I could hear it whistling through the air. I couldn’t move; I had to get that taste out of my mouth. Then the rich taste of my own blood covered it up.

She pulled her sword out, then stabbed me again. My first wound had started to close by the time I had been stabbed four times. She pulled her sword out and went to stab me again. I rolled and slashed her leg. The faintest taste of her blood returned and I gagged.

We stared each other down. Our wounds had closed and we both appeared fresh, as if nothing had just happened.

I heard hoofsteps.

A blade plunged into my back, just between my wings. It wasn’t long enough to come out through my chest. I sat down and looked behind me. It was the stallion that stabbed me. He pulled me to my feet by my mane and I was facing the old mare.

He pulled my mane up higher, exposing my neck, and went to feed.

“No,” the Bat Goblin said. “This one’s like us.”

“Fire. Burn her. hehe.” The stallion was simple. A simple Vampony, you’d never think it.

“We don’t have fire.”

He pulled my mane higher up. My hooves nearly left the ground.

“Uh-huh,” he said, excited.

The Bat Goblin smiled. “Smart boy.” She was going to cut my head off.

I didn’t panic. I waited for her to swing. When she did, I thrust my wings into the stallion’s face. He dropped me and held his eyes. I fell to my stomach and the Bat Goblin accidentally cut the stallion’s head off. His corpse fell to the ground and didn’t regenerate. The Bat Goblin looked heartbroken.

I stabbed the Bat Goblin in the stomach and wrenched her sword from her. She might have let me take it. Then I went to take the head of the other mare. She ducked and kicked me in the face. I fell to the floor, the world spinning. The cut on my lip started to heal. She was on top before I could see straight. I did the only thing I could: I pounded straight up with my hooves. Despite my newfound strength, it still didn’t seem to hurt her.

She hit me back, knocking me on my side. Then she started pounding at the side of my head, first hitting me in the ear a few times, then hitting me hard in the face. I heard a faint crack and my head bounced off the cave floor, making the world spin. The mare stepped up and looked down on me.

My wounds healed, but I still felt broken. I didn’t get up. She did what I wanted her to. She knelt down and tried to pull me to my hooves.

“Get up,” she said.

When she grabbed me I grabbed her and sank my fangs into her neck. Her blood wasn’t curdled. It tasted better than the road guard’s. Just like him, she froze when I bit into her. Vamponies aren’t immune to their own effects. I drank my fill and threw her down. She started to crawl away, breathing heavily.

The Bat Goblin was cradling the headless corpse of the stallion. Perhaps he was her son. I didn’t care. I drew my dagger, leaped into the air, and came down right on the other mare’s back, driving it into her spine. She screamed but was heard by only me. I planted my back hooves at her shoulders and grabbed her by the head. She started to scream louder. It gave me strength. I pulled up with everything I had. Her screams grew louder with every second until the last, when they ended with a curious tearing sound that you can’t hear anywhere else. I dropped her head.

The Bat Goblin wouldn’t even look at me. I’d hurt this mare more than I ever could have with a blade. She was stroking the stallion’s corpse, sobbing hysterically.

I watched a moment, feeling awful. Why did I feel awful? I don’t know.

“What are you waiting for?” she said. I almost didn’t hear her.

“Who was he? Your son?”

Her lips tightened into a hideous smile as she tried to stop crying, only able to do so for a few seconds. She nodded her head, then continued to cry.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I meant it or not.

“I killed him…” she whispered. “I killed my own child,” she stroked him more, then pawed at the wound she’d given him. She looked back up at me with enough hate to make me uneasy. “It should have been you!”

“But it was him.”

“Yes. It was…”

“I’m going to kill you next.”

“I want you to.”

“What?”

“Kill me, I won’t fight. I don’t want to live anymore, not with what I’ve done.” I stepped closer, her sword in my hoof. She coughed and spit on the floor, showing her teeth to me in hate. “I hope you suffer what I have today. You’re a monster. Do you understand?”

“We’re all monsters,” I said. I’d already felt her pain, years before. I had nopony else to lose. Only myself.

I nodded. Then I decapitated her.

* * *

The mare I’d ripped the head off of had pockets full of gold. I didn’t take any. I might have just murdered those three, but I’ve never stolen anything in my life. It would have just weighed me down. I honestly can’t recall buying hardly anything, at least not after my parents were killed. Nightshade always went out of his way to keep my cottage stocked with food and that strawberry wine I love. Gold wasn’t something I’d ever needed, but I usually some in case I came across something I had to have.

I knew those Vamponies had a living quarters in those caverns. Vamponies—most, not all—are pretentious, high-class snobs when not attacking others. They think they are better than your average ponies. We’re all beasts on the inside. Vamponies just try harder to hide it. I embraced it.

The caverns were massive, though empty. The Vamponies would have made sure to kill any pests and predators in their home to make it safe. I wished they hadn’t then. I was always hoping for a fight shortly after my un-death. My enhanced senses gave clarity to the adrenaline rushes I got during a fight. It was a feeling in its own; I was in an empowering frenzy, yet completely in control. I liked it, and sought to feel it whenever possible.

I descended further into the caverns for an hour or two. They had their quarters at what appeared to be the end. It looked like the interior of a house instead of a cave. The walls were paved with brick and there was a fire pit in the center below a small hole in the ceiling. Two of their mattresses were close together. One was noticeably larger than the other. There was enough space between them for a pony to stand. The third was on the other side of the room.

There was nothing near the lone mattress. The other two had a bag on each end. The bag by the larger bed had food in it, apples, carrots, lettuce. The bag by the smaller bed had a couple of carrots and something wrapped in a silk cloth. I pulled the cloth away to reveal a journal.

This journal belonged to the Bat Goblin. She had written her name, Black Valor, on the cover, claiming the journal as her own. I opened it.

She wasn’t lying about how old she was. There were entries dating back eighty and ninety years. Her script grew more elegant as the years went on. She wrote very small, allowing her to fit much more on the page. The first entries were obviously when she was a foal. In her adolescence, Black Valor was a member of the Warhorses, a group of ponies who solve problems for others—for a fee, of course. They are good ponies though. It wasn’t until the 5th of Rain’s Hoof that something of interest to me had happened.

Morndas, 5th Day of Rain’s Hoof, 3E 399

This might be my last entry. They killed Battle Hymn. They think they got me. Not yet, but I don’t think I’ll last much longer.

The pages were covered in bloodstains. It had seeped through several of the pages, but there were more entries once the pages were clean.

Fridas, 12th Day of Rain’s Hoof, 3E 399

Battle Hymn woke me. I saw him die, yet there he was when I woke. I don’t know how but I don’t care. My colt is alive. This is the greatest day of my life.

The next few entries were her accounts on dealing with her first few days of vampirism. They all started with telling of her hunger. I could relate. She wasn’t able to kill her first victim. Her son was.

The nine entries after that were all suicidal thoughts. These entries were stretched over two years. She struggled with what she’d become, much more than I did. She was a good pony before, and then she had to kill innocents to survive. She wrote that if it weren’t for Battle Hymn, she would have stayed in the caves and wasted away.

Five years after her infection, she decided to investigate the condition.

Morndas, 1st of Frostfall, 3E 406

I’ve gone three days without feeding. My appearance hasn’t changed any but my hunger is growing more painful by the second. Battle Hymn feeds, and I let him. I won’t feed. Equestria needs to know what we are.

Tirdas, 2nd of Frostfall, 3E 406

Four days without feeding. I’m feeling change, but can’t quite put my hoof on it. Battle Hymn says I look older. He feeds every day and looks younger than he did before he died. That must be it. I’ll write again after a notable change.

Tirdas, 31st of Frostfall, 3E 406

Battle Hymn is afraid of me now. I would be. I look like a monster, the monster I feel that I am. He still feeds every day and still looks the same. After more than a month without feeding, I’m beginning to look more like a bat than a pony. The power that comes with this appearance is just as frightening. I like it though.

The rest of the entries were her research notes on some of the traits and powers of Vamponies. We all have the basic powers like regeneration and enhanced senses, but there are powers unique to some, powers that set them apart from others.

She learned quite a bit in her time. I would have learned them on my own, but finding them then was helpful. It gave me an early start on my new self.

I decided to keep the journal for further reference. I also kept it because I didn’t want it to rot down here or be found by somepony else. The guilt of killing that mare and her colt had hurt me just slightly. She wasn’t evil, just a loving mother. It was a strange feeling, one I’d never felt in as long as I can remember.

I found nothing there to link those three with Nightshade, but I think I found something more valuable

Every Vampony has a unique power.

“What’s mine?”

Black Rose Immortal

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

“Are we almost there?” asked a stallion.

“It’s right there, you idiot,” said another stallion.

“Oh, yeah…”

I saw the entrance to a cave. I was on the first stallion’s back and he smelled terrible like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. My legs were bound to each other and the rope was tied tightly around my wings. My instinct was to thrash but I hardly had the strength to move.

“Stop it!” he said.

I didn’t. He bucked me off his back and slammed me to the ground several times then I was on his back again and we were going inside.

There was nopony in the cave before us. A mare went to the fire pit and lit a fire then a stallion made a strange contraption that sat above the fire and large chunks of meat were speared through it and he spun the meat as it cooked. Ponies aren’t supposed to eat that.

My parents were alive at least. We were put in separate cages all lined up, my mother in the middle of my father and I. They were just large enough for my father to turn around in it. Once the meat finished cooking, they teased us and threw small bites of it at us. I couldn’t eat it. The smell of it made me sick and the sight was just as bad. Even if I was hungry then, I couldn’t eat anything.

That night my parents tried to console me. “Everything will be all right,” they said. “We’re going to be all right.” As much as I wanted to, I didn’t believe them. I curled up and my mother put her hoof through the bars of the cage and stroked my mane. “We’re going to be all right,” she repeated. I could only cry because I knew it wasn’t true.

The next day I found that my mother and I were going to stay. They pulled my father out of his cage and put him into a crudely-made arena. Out of the door on the opposite end came a small pack of wolves. I looked away and covered my ears.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I came from my nightmare and back to the world. I had never been in more pain than I was then. Surely I had broken more than I’d care to know. The corners of my vision were black and I could make out almost nothing when I looked around. The helpful glowing mushrooms were very few.

The side of my face I had rested on was damp and my long mane stuck to it. It was from the floor of this cave—or whatever I had fallen into. This place was very wet.

I could hardly move; every attempt would tell me to lay still. It’s all I could do.

Then I heard the familiar snap of ripping skin and the crunching of bone in jaws. The corpse of the armored stallion lay in a heap and on top of him sat a strange creature that looked like a pony. It was hunched over and sniffing the corpse all over and would occasionally take a bite or two. I heard deep whimpering, as if the stallion’s mouth was closed. Perhaps he was poisoned. I’ve caused that before.

Closing my eyes was the only escape from the grisly scene. I did think the creature might overlook me since I was off to the side and was much smaller than the stallion. I was afraid that it would find me. I kept my eyes shut and soon drifted off again.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

My mother was tossed back in her cage and the door slammed behind her. This had been a daily thing, sometimes more than once. I hadn’t known where she had gone or what was happening to her at the time. Every day, when she returned, she would sit in the corner of her cage and cry.

“Mom, you’re bleeding,” I said. She had blood on her hind legs. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed.

“Oh?” she looked down then crossed her legs. “Oh, don’t worry, Shimmerstrike. It’s nothing.”

“But, you’re hurt. You need help!”

“No, I’ll be fine. You just stay quiet. All right?”

“All right,” I said.

I put my hooves through the bars of my cage and hugged her. She hugged me back and stroked my mane.

“Don’t worry, Shimmerstrike. Somepony will help us. You’ll see.”

I can’t say how long my mother and I were held by them. I noticed that her health began to decline. They took her away less frequently, then eventually stopped altogether. She could hardly move and soon she did almost nothing but sleep.

It wasn’t long after that I learned where they had been taking her.

The big and stupid stallion opened the door to my cage and backed me into the corner. He said I was coming with him and put the noose around my neck. It snapped tight when I didn’t follow and he dragged me out. My mother cried and begged him not to take me and he ignored her.

I could hear my mother’s cries echo throughout the cave as I was dragged to an area I hadn’t seen before then. We came to a small tent and the stallion pushed me through the flaps. There was another stallion in the tent. He was the leader of that disgusting bunch.

“Get on the bed,” he told me.

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.”

“No.”

I turned to run and my head was whipped back and I fell to the floor. The stallion picked me up and put me on the bed. I tried to scream but he put his hoof over my mouth. He leaned in close, holding my noose.

“I’m taking this off. You leave this tent, you die. Understand?”

I wept.

“Good.”

Forgive me, but I’m going to omit this part of my story. I’m sure you don’t want to hear it any more than I want to tell it.

When the leader was finished, I was taken back to my cage. I curled up against the bars and cried. My mother dragged herself to me.

“I’m sorry, Shimmerstrike. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I just can’t do it anymore.”

I didn’t even look at her. It was the most traumatic experience of my life, but I didn’t blame her for it. She had endured it day after day so that I didn’t have to. She was the best mother in Equestria.

The next day, I was taken to the stallion again. On my way back, I saw a key on the stupid stallion and he didn’t notice when I took it.

I pulled the key out and showed it to my mother.

“Mom, I have a key. We can leave now,” I whispered.

She looked up at me and smiled. I knew she wouldn’t have lasted much longer down here so I planned to leave that night when they were all asleep.

The leader had left soon after he was finished with me. I’m not sure why. He had done this before.

The stupid stallion came with the noose that night.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He slipped the noose around my neck.

“No! Leave me alone!”

I was dragged out of my cage and into the tent. He threw me on the bed. I jumped off and tried to run around him. He shoved me down and stood up to hit me. When I fell, the first thing that came to my sight was a dagger on the floor, just under the mattress. I sprung up and cut his throat with it. I stabbed him again and again as he fell to the floor and didn’t stop until I was too tired to pull the dagger out of him.

I didn’t think it would have been that easy to kill another pony. I suppose I had a good reason to, but I took the life of another pony with no remorse.

The room grew cold and I suddenly felt that I wasn’t alone. I turned and saw a stallion towering over me. He was in black robes and had a hood over his head.

“Have you been here the whole time? Why didn’t you help me?”

“You didn’t look like you needed my help.” His voice was low and smooth and he had a chilling smile on his face. “I was sent here to kill this stallion. You’ve done it instead.”

“I’m… I’m sorry. You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Nightmare Moon hasn’t asked for your blood, so I won’t spill it.”

“Can you help me then?”

“No.”

“Please?! My mother is dying! Maybe… maybe Nightmare Moon sent you here to help me.” I started to cry again. Nightmare Moon would never send somepony to help anypony.

He pulled his hood back to reveal a bright purple mane and yellow eyes. He didn’t say anything but he extended a hoof to help me up.

“I have a strange feeling about you,” he told me. “I’ll help you out of here, but I won’t do it alone. Would you care to kill these bandits?”

It was at that moment my new life began.

“I’ll kill them.”

“Good.”

The two of us killed the rest of the bandits in the cave. He had shown me the proper way to slit a pony’s throat in their sleep so that they never wake.

“We need to help my mother. She’s still in her cage.”

We went to the cage. My mother was curled up in the center. I unlocked it and nudged her.

“Mother, get up. We’re leaving.”

She didn’t move.

“No…”

I shook her.

“Mother, wake up. Wake up!”

She didn’t move.

The stallion walked up and placed a hoof to her neck.

“She’s…”

“No! She’s fine!”

“I’m sorry, little mare, but she has passed.”

I wept into my mother’s mane, praying to the Divines that she would be fine. I wept for a long time. The Divines had abandoned me. But the stallion didn’t.

“I can’t leave her in here.”

The stallion put a consoling hoof on my shoulder. “I’ll help you.”

He carried my mother and I carried a shovel. We walked far away from the cave. I couldn’t bury her within miles of the wretched place. We found a nice spot beneath a beautiful tree—I’m not sure what kind—and the stallion dug a hole. I picked a flower and placed it behind her ear. We placed her into the hole and filled it.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I opened my eyes. It was only the armored stallion and I. Clearly he was too big for just one of these things. I figured there were more of them.

I felt worse than I had before. Those nightmares have always haunted me.

I looked up the hole I had fallen down and saw that it was night. Only stars were in the sky and the only light came from the few glowing mushrooms that were giving off a sickly green light. I could hear water trickling from several spots around me. It had eroded depressions into the cave floor. This was the strangest cave I’d seen. The walls were entirely covered with a coarse moss and I could see what appeared to be ancient architecture built in some of the spots. Perhaps I was imagining it; it was dark and I was nearly dead.

The tight passages soon opened to a set of stairs leading down into a chasm filled with the twisted corpses of trees. Massive fungi sprang out of the floor giving off a glow like their smaller brethren; it was as if the ominous dark was being kept at bay by their light. The air was very cold and crisp and smelled fresh. The smell of death had become so familiar to me that I noticed it right away. Strange flying insects crawled on the furry wall and flew away when I neared them.

I had already forgotten about my pain because of my amazement. There were no words to describe that place. The sight of it made my mane stand on end but I could do nothing but venture further.

It was obvious that nopony had set hoof in here in at least a thousand years. The only sound was the faint scrape of my hooves as I dragged myself and the occasional beating of the insects wings. The chasm was massive and filled with a maze of passages formed by raised rocks, but I just walked with no idea of where I was going or where I’d end up. It was like an entire world under Equestria.

After several hours of aimless wandering I came upon life. There was one of the eyeless creatures sitting beside a fire. I imagine I had gone deeper; the air was especially cold now. At that temperature there would be snow in Equestria. This creature was bald. It appeared content despite only having the small fire to warm it. Perhaps it was accustomed to the climate down here. Certainly more so than I.

I’m not stupid, but I am curious—perhaps to a fault; I couldn’t resist getting a closer look at it. It didn’t notice me and wasn’t particularly exciting other than the fact that I hadn’t seen anything like it before. It only sat there by the fire. Perhaps it was sleeping.

I was within just a few steps of it and stood still, watching it, when it perked up and began to sniff. Of course, I didn’t think of it having a heightened sense of smell due to it not having eyes. Its hearing was probably heightened as well, but nopony can hear me if I don’t want them to—even in my state of near-death. Learning it at that moment wasn’t very helpful.

My hoof made the slightest scrape on the rock as I stepped back and the creature pounced. It landed on my head but quickly worked its way to my back. I felt a tugging on one of my wings and then sharp teeth. The wings of a Pegasi are very sensitive. The pain of having my wings being chewed on was similar to being hit in the groin. I fell to the ground and rolled, hoping to knock the creature loose, but that was a mistake. I got it off but my wing went with it. It wasted no time going for the other one. I thrust my dagger to the creature and its skin split very easily. I killed it, but not quick enough. I was a Pegasus without wings.

I didn’t get off the ground at first. I pushed the creature off of me and lay there to bleed. The creature couldn’t have weighed more than half as much as I did but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. My grey feathers were all around its mouth, hiding its crude rotten teeth, and both of my wings were on the ground, one right beside me—which had at least one bite taken out of it—and the other about ten feet away.

When I was ready, I got up and started to limp again. Fearful—and sure—that I was going deeper into this Hell, I kept to the path through the rocks. That past week had been so hard on me; I’d never been through so much pain in all of my life before than I had then, but I knew Sithis wouldn’t abandon me, no matter how deep I would have gone.

I had been wandering a while when I came upon a small group of the creatures; there were three of them. One led the others, who were picking at each other; one would swipe at or push the other, then be chased a small ways up the rocks, then the other would do the same. I knew then that I wasn’t quite as agile as I was used to, so I hugged the wall and stood still and held my breath as they passed. They didn’t notice me. I started to wander again.

My mane was stuck to my face with sweat and dirt and blood. My saliva was thick and my tongue was swollen from dehydration. I don’t know how long I’d been wandering or how long it was before I’d woken. It could have been days. I heard the trickling sound I’d woken up to and followed it.

There was a small stream that emptied into a pool. The water didn’t smell like water and it was too dark to see if it was dirty or not. Water that deep in the Earth must be fresh, right? I asked myself that very question. I would have died without water anyways, so I took two sips. I didn’t realize that it wasn’t water on the first and I spit the second out. Maybe it was best I didn’t know exactly what it was.

Not even a minute after drinking, my vision blurred and I felt even more dehydrated. Whatever flowed down there was poisonous, I can tell you that much. I needed rest then more than ever.

I collapsed and shut my eyes.

I’ll only rest them a few minutes.

* * *

The trickling of the poison woke me. I was alone. On top of the pain from whatever was broken inside me and the open wounds on my back, I now felt the strange effects of the poison. It was like my blood was boiling inside of me.

I went from a limp to a crawl and dragged myself onward for the longest time. Then the greatest thing happened: I began to ascend. I was in too much pain to be relieved.

After a short ways, I came to a lightly-rusted bronze-colored gate. It opened when I touched in and I crawled into the elevator just beyond it and began to rise. It felt like the gravity was going to crush me into a puddle of mush. Then I heard the wind and felt cold.

The gate opened to snowy Equestria. I appeared to be in the middle of a forest. The air was very crisp and smelled of the pine trees. Lumps of snow covered some of the green on the trees. The sky was clear, revealing a beautiful display of stars and a crescent moon.

It was only seconds before frozen blood had shut the wounds where my wings used to be. I limped along in the direction I thought was the ‘right way’. My vision was blurred from the poison, snow and night all at once. My heartbeat drowned out the noise of the world. I was surprised that I hadn’t died at that point.

I soon had to stop so that I could rest. Sleep would be impossible, but just a while to catch my breath was nice.

The snow wasn’t building on the ground. I gathered firewood—I couldn’t carry anything more than small branches, and only one at a time—and made a small fire. There was nothing to eat or drink so I ate some snow from a pine tree. It tasted almost as good as the water from the stream near Shockwave’s dungeon. It was much better than whatever was in that pool.

I rested my head on my hooves and closed my eyes. The warmth of the fire did put me at ease. It made me feel like I was at home again. The sheer volume of my own heartbeat had died down slightly, only to be joined by the screaming of the wind. I turned my back to the wind and used my mane and tail as a blanket, though they were frequently blown out of place. I wanted to just rest my eyes, afraid that if I went to sleep I wouldn’t wake up. It amazes me how many times I’ve wished for death, only for it to come for me when I’ve changed my mind.

* * *

I had dozed off without knowing it. When I woke up the fire was out but the snow still wasn’t sticking. The wind hadn’t gotten worse either. Thank Sithis for the small favors, I thought.

Then I noticed a shadow on the ground that told me I wasn’t alone. I turned around to see a black Unicorn mare watching me from just a few feet away. Despite the cold, she wore no armor—only a green formal outfit, something you would see on a noble. Her eyes were red like mine.

I didn’t say anything to her or get up. If she was going to kill me, there wasn’t much I could do.

“Are you okay?” she asked. I’d never heard a more ridiculous question. She didn’t sound concerned either, but like she was hoping I’d say no.

“Leave me alone.”

“You really look like you need help.”

I wanted to say no, but if she could help me then I’d take advantage of her hospitality.

“I have just the thing,” she said.

I didn’t find it very strange then that she knew what was wrong with me—maybe she didn’t know—but she lifted me onto her back with magic and started to walk. She didn’t live far from where she found me, maybe a half-mile.

Finally we came to her home. It was a cottage, like mine, in the middle of the woods. The light from the fireplace was blasting out the window and into the night. She set me down when we went inside. It was very warm in her home. The smell of a stew on the fire welcomed me but I didn’t want to eat. Being poisoned generally comes with a loss of appetite.

“You can sleep in my bed if you’d like.” She pointed to the bed. There was a lantern on the end-table next to the bed.

I narrowed my eyes. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, really. I insist.”

“Fine, but you’d better not be up there when I wake up.”

She smiled. “Of course not.”

I crawled into her bed and began to doze off. For some reason I couldn’t fall asleep; there was something about this mare that made me uneasy. I felt like she was watching me. She tried talking to me as we were going to sleep but I didn’t answer. I wanted to rest but I couldn’t. Sleep wouldn’t have helped me anyways.

Later into the night, a shadow came over me. I rolled over to see what it was. It was the mare.

“If you want your bed then I’ll sleep in the floor. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“I understand.”

She stood there a few more moments. I groaned and rolled out of the bed and crumpled to the floor. I didn’t have the strength to crawl further from the bed.

“Take your… damned bed.”

“I don’t need the bed. You’ll need it to get better.”

“Then go back to sleep on the floor.”

“No.”

“No?”

She was such a strange pony. I could tell that she wasn’t tired, but I couldn’t sleep with her standing over me. I looked around nervously then tried to climb back onto the bed.

“Let me help you up.”

She helped me onto the bed and stood there to watch me again.

“Can you go away?”

“Don’t mind me, Shimmerstrike. You just rest.”

“I can’t when you’re… How do you know my name?”

“You told me.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Yes…” The smile on her face when she said that made me want to slit her throat.

“You’re lying to me.” I pulled my dagger out and pointed it at her. The strain from holding it up had my hoof shaking. “What do you want?”

“I want to help you get better.”

“How?”

“Death.”

“Maybe I don’t want to die.”

“That’s the only way. I know.” She stepped toward me with a grin. I’ve always remembered her teeth…

“Stay back!” I knew it would do no good. I was too weak to fight, or even run away.

She slammed her hoof down on mine that had the dagger and leaned in and put her lips to my neck. I felt a quick stinging sensation. I reared my head back and gave her the most powerful head-butt I could. She stepped back, slightly dazed. Her teeth had ripped the flesh around where she had bitten me. Normal ponies don’t have teeth that sharp…

I was a Pegasus, nearly dead, poisoned and without wings, and she was a Vampony in perfect health. I remember the amusing thought that was in my head. There are more pathetic ways to die.

But, as I said, I didn’t want to die. I grabbed hold of the lantern and launched it at her. The glass shattered and the oil covered her and ignited. I liked the screams of a pony on fire, especially mares—the screams of a stallion just aren’t as blood-curdling. I don’t think anypony likes the smell. She ran for where she thought the window was, bumping the wall several times before finding it. She blasted her hoof through the glass and leapt into the cold. I never did see her again.

I couldn’t enjoy the moment in my condition, and coming with this Vampony only made it worse. It was like I was brought to the edge of death and left to dangle. My heartbeat intensified and so did the pain from my wounds.

I fell to the wood floor and died.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

A cloaked figure prowled the streets, invisible, even in the moonlight. Small, likely a mare. She fled from the light of the guards’ torches as they circled the city on their patrol. The mare knew the city very well, cutting through alleyways to reach her destination.

She neared a cottage on the edge of the city and stepped up to the window.

A mare and stallion were tucking their filly into bed. They each kissed her on the forehead then the father blew out the candle. The moonlight made the assailant’s reflection visible. No features, only black cloth.

She sat there a while with the patience of a predator lying in wait.

Finally she reached up and opened the window and slid into the room without a sound. She stepped up to the bed, staring down at the filly. The foals heartbeat echoed in the mare’s ears.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

The mare opened her mouth and gently placed her lips to the filly’s neck. A familiar metallic taste crowded her senses. The foal’s heartbeat began to slow. She didn’t wake. She didn’t even stir.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The mare’s breath quickened.

Thump! Thump!

The metallic taste faded.

Thump!

The mare pulled back to catch her breath. Her hood fell back to reveal a fanged, grey-coated mare with crimson eyes and a green mane. Blood trickled from my lips. I wiped it with my sleeve, still panting.

Then the world erupted in a bright light and I heard a high-pitched scream. It was my voice. My skin burned and was turning to ash before my eyes.