Harmony Co.

The night air felt cold as it bit Osborn’s cheeks. He walked down an empty street with a heavy bag on his back. A bar at the left side of the street was saying with a neon sign that the Russian was alive. A small colt wearing a blue shirt was playing with three other colts opposite the bar. The four of them kicked a ball between each other, smiles where drawn across their faces. No sound but the sound of Osborn’s footsteps could be heard.

He entered a house. Inside was a stallion wearing a camouflage west, putting a revolver together. He pointed Osborn to the door next to him. He walked through without hesitation and closed his eyes.

When he opened them the sun was shining in the sky as it burned Osborn’s arms. A second time he walked down an empty street with a heavy bag on his back. A cafe at the left side of the street was boasting with a sing just outside that the Russian was alive. A colt wearing a blue shirt was standing alongside with three other colts opposite the cafe. The four of them where now smoking and despite of the warm sun wearing black leather jackets. No sound but sound of Osborn’s footsteps could heard.

Again he entered a house. Inside was the stallion wearing a camouflage west, putting an AK-47 together. He pointed Osborn to the door next to him. He paused for a moment before proceeding.

One the other side of the door he was meet by rain splattering down on his head, making his cloths heavy. For a third time he walked down an empty street with a heavy bag on his back. A Bar was saying with a neon sign that the Russian was alive. A young stallion wearing a blue shirt was standing with two other stallions kicking on a smaller colt lying on the ground. He stopped for a moment and considered stooping them, but decided to move on.

A third time he entered the house. Inside was the stallion wearing a camouflage west, putting a grenade launcher together. He pointed Osborn to the door next to him. Osborn turned around and tried to open the door that lead back to the street. He yanked the door knob, but the door stayed shut. He slammed his shoulder into it, but the door stayed shut. He kicked the knob in an effort to get destroy the lock, but the knob stayed on and the door stayed shut. The stallion behind him grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him inside the door he was pointing at. Osborn fell into complete darkness, he closed his eyes and hoped the ground would make his pain short.

Salty water splashed Osborn in the face. He found himself on an empty beach just in the middle of twilight. There were no sources of light and the small amount the sinking sun provided gave barely enough to see more than a few yards.

The text ”the Russian is still alive” was written in the sand.

He saw the text and ran, ran to the point where his feet started bleeding and he tripped falling into the sand. His mouth filled with the grains. He lifted up his head and saw the colt with the blue shirt in front of him. His throat was open from ear to ear and a waterfall of blood ran down his neck.

”No!” Osborn rose and grabbed the colt in his arms, trying to stop the bleeding.

The colts face turned pale and his head hanged back, opening up the wound. ”Why didn´t you save me?” The colt asked.

”I... I...” Osborn stuttered.

”WHY DIDN`T YOU SAVE ME?!” The colt screamed into his face before transforming into grey ash.

Osborn woke up in his bed to find his bed soaked in sweet. His heart thumped in his head like a drum. He wiped cold sweat of his face with the back of his hand. ”Bloody nightmares.” He leaned back into the bed and took a few heavy breaths while looking up at the celling. ”Can´t they just end?” He lied still for several minutes trying to slow catch his breath and calm his heart.

”No way i can go back to sleep now.” He said, thinking out loud. He looked over at his watch. 05:23 it read. ”Might has well get up.”

His home was a small cabin just outside the city. He had a shower, toilet and refrigerator. The whole things was far from the most modern or luxurious place in the city with the occasional roach, mouse and other vermin running across the floor but it was good enough for him.

He looked into the refrigerator. ”A cola.” He looked at the red can wishing it was beer. ”Well it will have to do.” As he drank it while he looked out of his window. From the small hill he lived on he had a good view over the city. He looked as the spots of light in from the city flickered and listened to the sound of crickets singing. The occasional sound of gunfights didn´t bother him, the sound had turned into white noise for him.

The sun started to climb over the horizon and shot rays of light over the city. Transforming it from a black sea with small light squares into a metallic floor built on top of weak buildings with larger skyscrapers rising out like giant monoliths.

Time to get to work. Osborn finished his cola.

Osborn walked down a street at the edge of the city, his revolver strapped firmly in it´ s holster. The street was bustling with life and multiple whores waved at him as he passed by. One of them caught his eye, a mint green mare with golden eyes. She wore the pink shirt that left little to Osborns imagination. She walked up to him, faintly smiling and giggled in the just the way he liked.

”How are you doing, Osborn?” She put her hand on his shoulder hand traced down his arm with her index finger. ”Want to take a break from all that work?”

”Sorry, Lyra but I am heading to work.” He pushed her hand away, her skin felt soft against his dry fingers.

He stood outside Rajkrud´s official police office, a clean place given the town it was in. Only a few bullet holes and cracks leftover from shootings. The inside fared better, you could almost think it was in a peaceful town by the looks of it. Clean desks and no pony sitting in line for help. But Osborn knew why there was no pony waiting, because the police wouldn´t lift a finger if there wasn´t a direct order from the government or a big pile of cash involved.

At the counter, a dark brown stallion dressed in the standard blue inform lifted his eyes from the magazine he was reading upon seeing him.

”Are you here to see Breezy?” He asked.

”Yeah.”

”He is in his office, go right in.” He pointed over his shoulder before returning to the magazine.

Breezy was a blue stallion with bright green eyes. Thin cold blue hair made a thin layer on top of his bald scalp. He looked at Osborn with a tired gaze. His face looked pale despite the black bags formed under his eyes.

”Morning Oz, Sit if you will.” He suggested Osborn sit down in the chair in front of his desk and he obliged.

”What the hell is keeping you up at night mister police captain? Are the crime bosses not satisfied with your inability to solve the crimes they do?”

”Not exactly.” He responded. Not the least amused by Osborns joke. ”We have received requests from the big ones.”

”You mean the government?”

”Yes, they want us to get rid of an opium storage located on an island just at the edge of our district.” Breezy said. ”The local guards started robbing tourists that are going by the island, apparently it´s great for sunbathing and parking their overpriced yachts. So now we have been tasked to deal with it, but as you can see this city´s police force is made up of one old captain and ten officers who fuck whores while pressing street vendors for protection money.”

”You want the place torn down or just taken down?” Osborn decided he had heard enough.

”If you can just take them down and collect the opium they are guarding that would be pretty great.” He cracked a nervous smile.

”Right, What island is this and what kind of defenses to they have?”

”Tigers island,” Breezy pulled out a map over the island from his desk. ”and they only have a few mercenaries from the inland hired to guard the farms.”

”Can you give me an exact number?” Osborn studied the map. The small island was mostly cowered with forest except for a narrow white sand beach facing east, a thin river running from the peak in the middle of the island and a clearing at the foot of the hill. In the clearing there where three rectangular buildings with metal roofs.

”I´m afraid I can´t.”

”Alright then, I´ll get it done.” Osborn took the map. ”I´ll head out tonight, tell your officers to watch for a signal in three days.”

”What will they look out for?”

”A blue signal flare.” Osborn walked out the door.

The rain smattered on Osborns hat causing small rivers to run down the edges. The thick forest kept most of the little sunlight that shined through the clouds at the top of the trees. Some monkeys and birds where making noise in the trees above. He observed two of the guards walking around the farm. The one walking first was wearing an military beret with small bits of blond hair peeking out. His face was thin and stoic with thin blond brows above his narrow ice blue eyes. Small wrinkles drawn across face, mostly around the eyes and on his forehead. A veteran, Osborn thought to himself. Must have left his country or got thrown out. Makes no difference to me.

His partner was bald with a chubby face. Similar to the former mercenary he had cold narrow eyes. He did look somewhat younger than his partner, with a bushy orange beard going around his face and covering up must his facial features. Both of them where wearing green camo gear and carried AK-47:s with enough storage for five clips in their pockets. Knifes where strapped in their belts.

Going in the opposite direction where two other guards wielding the same equipment and wearing similar clothes but these two looked much younger then the others and Osborn could see just by the way they looked around that they were not nearly has experienced as the other two.

In total he counted eight guards since he started watching. They went in shifts of four at the day and four at night. All of them armed with AK-47:s and wearing the same camouflage gear. Two times a day a truck would come by. First early in the morning second late in the afternoon. First time it delivered second time it received. It must be a storage for smuggling the drugs into the mainland. Osborn thought. All around the camp they had placed landmines and every patrol had a guard dog going with them. A few times he when he was sneaking around trying to look for an opening in the minefield he had almost gotten caught by one of those dogs. Luckily the scent of opium dulled the dogs senses, not so much luck with finding an opening though. So he made one by digging up two of them.

He looked over his equipment; a machete, two armed landmines, a revolver with sixteen bullets, a sniper rifle with a silencer and five bullets. He couldn´t take more with him as it would make it too difficult to move around with more not to mention harder to stay hidden.

The rain stopped, he looked up and saw the sky clearing. Beams of light started reaching down from the trees, illuminating the bright green leafs.

Let´s see... Osborn looked at his watch. It´s 15:32 now. The sun will set in about three hours. I will strike at sunset. Time to set things up.

The sun started dipping into the sea at the horizon and the sky turned fiery orange. Osborn placed his hat on top of a fallen tree and leaned against the tree himself, the rifle without the silencer in his hands and his eyes looking through the scope. His sights where locked on the blond guard walking next to his chubby mate with one of the guard dogs following them around.

The rifle barked like a thunder strike as he shoot the dog in the head.

”Sniper at three a clock!” The blond guard shouted and ran to press his side against the nearest building, his mate did the same.

Osborn shot towards the blond guards position two times before lowering himself. He screwed on the silencer and crawled with his chest pressed against the ground. The still wet mud attached to his clothes and formed crispy layers once he got to dry ground. He purposely pressed his face into the mud in order to break up his silhouette against the ground. Upon coming closer to the opening he created in the minefield he heard the sound of the guards firing their assault rifles. Instinctively he pressed one side of his face to the ground, both as means of ducking and to get a look around him. The guards where firing at his previous position where he left his hat. He kept crawling closer to the gap.

An explosion behind him shook the ground and rained down small bits of gravel and half rotten leafs. There goes the first mine. Osborn crawled through the gap and squeezed himself underneath the building closest to him. Once underneath he took the sniper rifle from his back, screwed on the silencer and looked for the rest of the guards through the scope.

The other two guards already out on patrol ran towards the sight of the explosion, the remaining four came out of the building where they used to sit and watch TV.

”What the hell happened?” A grey guard with pitch black hair asked as he and his mate where running towards the place where Osborn placed his hat.

The blue guard with bright red hair turned to his mate. ”We are under attack by a sni-”

Before he could finish Osborn shoot him in the head. The silencer made the gunshot sound like a gentle whisper compared to the roar it made before. The grey guard looked at his dead mate with wide open eyes and shaking eyes giving Osborn well enough time to shoot again.

That´s that done for. He put down the empty rifle. Four left.

The remaining four got behind cover trying to figure out where Osborn was hiding. The familiar sound of the transport truck broke the silence that had laid itself over the place. The humming growl came closer by the second and the guards where arguing amongst themselves whether to greet them or let them wait. Soon it won’t matter.

The truck went up in flames and lit up the entire garrison in a roaring pillar of fire. The guards turned to watch, the light from the explosion litup the yard like a floodlight giving Osborn a clear view of their positions. Time to give them something to chase. He rolled out from underneath the building and shoot of the guards with his revolver. The guns hammer slammed like a sledge on an anvil and the muzzle lit up like a firecracker. All of the three remaining guards started shooting towards his position. Osborn started running, through his opening in the minefield into the jungle.

”Get the fucker!” A voice roared behind Osborn has he dived into the river he used for water the past two days. In the murky water he couldn´t see anything, instead he felt his way around the bottom and grabbed hold of a root sticking out of the muddy bottom. He used it to keep himself down and began to crawl slowly on the bottom by grabbing a hold of nearby roots.

Thock! Thock!

Muffled gunfire and the sound of bullets entering the water vibrated in Osborn ears. He dug his boots into the bottom and pushed forwards, away from the sounds. His torso made one involuntarily jerk inwards. Half the air spent. He crawled towards the shore, slowly trying to avoid making any splashes on the surface and give away his position.

Upon surfacing he could see the white cones from the guard´s flashlights reaching between the trees. Crawling gentle out of the water with his chin pressed against the ground he took of his west and began smearing mud over his chest and back. Covered in mud and with his knife in hand he crouched down and walked gently towards the guards.

”Be careful now soldiers. He could be anywhere.” A bright yellow stallion said with an authoritarian voice.

”Fuck, where the hell is this asshole?” A red stallion asked has he looked into the mangrove trees. Osborn was standing not two feet away from him ready strike when one of the guards moved his light right towards him. Moments before the light reached him, Osborn pressed himself against a tree while the beam lightened the other side.

”Found anything?” The guard asked.

”No.” The red stallion smacked himself on the neck. ”Just these damned mosquitos.”

”Right.” The guard responded, his voice shacking. He turned and searched his surroundings.

As soon as the guard turned Osborn struck. He dashed towards the red stallion putting one hand over his mouth while burring the knife in his throat. The guard gave of a few muffled screams before he stopped squirming and Osborn gently put him the ground. Only two left. He sneaked past the guard and made his way towards the yellow stallion. When Osborn was three feet away the guard turned. With nowhere to hide Osborn ran straight towards him, ramming the knife into his chest. All of this made more than enough noise for the last guard to notice.

”What the fuck?!” He stood still with wide eyes when he saw Osborn and the guard.

Shit. Osborn pulled the knife out of the guard chest, ran into jungle and hid inside a bush. He pressed himself down and looked for the beam of the guard’s flashlight. The beam appeared, it darted around on the ground and jumped from tree to tree. The guards breaths where quick and small, his hands where shacking. Osborn observed the guard twitch and turning looking for him, he lay still on the ground feeling around with his hands. He found a descent size rock and threw it past the guards head while he looked the other way.

Osborn barely had time to blink before the guard started shooting right where the rock landed.

”Die!” His rifle barked incessantly, creating light flashes at the muzzle. ”You mother fucker!” The rifle started to click. He had emptied the magazine.

Osborn rushed towards the guard with the knife drawn. He wrapped his arm around the guard’s neck and pushed the knife in between his ribs. The guard squirmed and tried to pull Osborn’s arm of, in response Osborn pushed the knife further in. The guard stopped moving. Osborn dropped the corpse and drew some heavy breaths. He wiped the knife on some leaves before walking down to the river to wash of and get his vest.

The garrison was still and quiet. The only noise that could be heard was the crackling fire coming from the burning truck. Osborn walked up to the building he hid under earlier and looked under. The rifle was lay too far away for him to reach he had to crawl under to get it. The rifle was muddy with a few scrapes but nothing serious. When he crawled out he saw a small brown filly with red hair wearing a light green t-shirt and bright blue jeans. She was crying while staring right at him. Osborn was stunned for a few moments and the filly turned to face him before he could say anything. She wiped the tears of her cheeks with the back of her hand.

”Did you kill Paisley? Did you kill my dad and all of the others?” her voice was, to Osborn’s surprise, cold and collected with no hint of sadness. Only anger.

A chilling finger started running up Osborn’s spine sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. Once it reached his head he felt a cold fist pressing itself into his skull.

”Did you?” She pressed the question.

”Yes, I did.”

”Why?” This time she could not hide her sorrow.

”Because I was paid to.”

The filly ran up to him and started kicking on the legs and beating his stomach with her small fists. Osborn let her keep at it for some time until he pushed her back and crouched in front of her.

”There is nothing you or I can do to bring your father back...” He took the revolver out of it´ s holster and held the handle towards her. ”But if you want to, you can take my life.”

The filly wiped the tears of her freckled cheeks and gave him a puzzled look. She took the revolver, in her small hands it look almost absurd, due to it´ s size. She raised the revolver and took aim at his head. Osborn took a deep breath and anticipated the worst.

”If I spare you are you will you help me get home?” She asked with the muzzle pointing at his forehead.

”Yes, I will.” Gently he pushed the muzzle away from his forehead. ”Where do you live?”

”In Singapore with my mom.” Her voice returned to the cold tone she had before.

”Let´s go then.”

The harbor dead and quite. The rhythmic sound of the waves breaching and the leaves dancing in the wind where the only noises Osborn heard and the cold night air bit his cheeks. The filly followed him at a distance always looking at his back. Should be paying more attention to the front kid. That´s the dangerous part.

”You´re gonna have to hide kid.” Osborn crouched down. ”Those who hired me may not take to kindly to live witnesses.”

”How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?” The filly asked.

I was willing to let you kill me a few minutes ago. Osborn brooded on an answer. ”Here,” He handed her the revolver. ”If you think I am trying to pull something.”

Without answering the filly grabbed the revolver from his hand and ran into one of the old dock houses.

He fired the flare gun into the pitch black night sky, sending a blue comet into the sky. A police boat carrying Breezy and his officers came ported by the dock. Breezy was the first one to come of the boat, he wore the standard dark blue uniform with a brown beret with a silver badge in front, his shoes where so polished Osborn could see a reflection. His officers wore similar inform outfits though none of them had polished their shoes or put on their hats.

”Is it done?” Breezy asked.

”Yes.” Osborn had never been good at lying, but he knew how to withhold information. ”All of the guards are dead.”

”Good,” Breezy sounded satisfied with the answer. ”Collect the evidence officers.”

The officers walked started walking inland while Osborn considered what he should do next with the filly. I need to get in contact with Applejack somehow. He looked over at Breezy. I could ask to use the radio on his boat.

”Hey, Breez. I need to contact Applejack, could I use your radio?” Osborn could feel his heart jumping at the words. If Breezy suspected something-

”Sure.” Breezy responded without even giving Osborn a second look.

”Thanks, mate.”

As he walked to the boat, the sound of a gun firing cracked like a whip out of one of the dock houses. Osborn immediately recognized it as the sound of his revolver. The revolver shoot was followed up by another shoot but this one was somewhat quieter. A pistol shoot. The hairs on Osborn’s neck rose. No, no, no. He ran towards the source of the gunshots. Inside the dock house he found one of the officers pressing a wound on his shoulder, leaking dark blood with his hands and beside the officer was the filly. Her grass green eyes stared at Osborn with a motionless gaze. Blood poured out of a hole in her head.

”You,” Osborn’s felt his blood being set aflame in his veins. ”You, fucking wanka.” He slowly walked up to the officer.

”What are you-Argh” Osborn grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. His eyes widened with shock as Osborn forced his hand around his throat. The officer lifted his hands of the wound and took a hold Osborn’s arm. The nails dug into Osborn’s skin, forming shallow red wounds on his arm.

Osborn squeezed even tighter around the officers throat and pressed his thump into the wound. The officer tried to draw deep breaths in response to the pain Osborn caused him. He only managed to get a thin wheezing. Osborn could feel the fire running through his veins, turning his face red and burning in his muscles. He bend his fingers around the Officers adams apple and squeezed until he felt his fingers pressing through the guards skin against the palm of his hand. He opened his hand.

The officer dropped to the floor. The skin on his throat folded down on his neck forming a flat surface on his spine, only gently inflating when he exhaled. He rolled and twisted around like a fish on land. His face started becoming purple and his breaths grew smaller. He stopped moving.

Osborn turned to the filly, crouched down and closed her eyes. ”I´m sorry kid. I shouldn´t have taken this job.”

”Osborn, what the hell happened!?” Breezy stood in the door opening, his face turned pale by the sight of the filly. ”Did you kill her and Stephen?”

”I murdered Stephen.” He carefully picked up the filly in his arms.

”Why?” Breezy asked.

”Because he killed her.”

As he was walking out Breezy grabbed in by the shoulder. ”I could have you arrested for this Oz.” He made his voice darker and narrowed his eyes, trying to scare Osborn.

”Then why don´t you captain?” He shook of Breezys hand and walked out the door.

”What are going to do?” Breezy asked behind him.

”I am going to bury her. Send Applejack to pick me up.”

He buried her at the narrow sand beach. Without a shovel he had to dig it with a piece of wood and his hands. After an hour he started felling the sand getting moist and heavy, small pools of water rose and sank in rhythm with the waves at the bottom of the grave. Osborn gently placed the filly in the ground and began filling up the hole.

The sun started rising out of the black sea, sending beams of warm light across the sky. Osborn sat next to the grave. ”Should see the sunrise kid. It´s Beautiful.”