My Kingdom of Rubble

The train ride had been taking longer than expected.

Ozzy was unable to guess how many hours it had been, although those hours were spent in a semi-peaceful state of blankly staring at the changing landscapes. Once that wore off, Ozzy unsheathed Blood Nap from his hip, and engaged in a rousing game of Five Finger Fillet. Once Ozzy expertly avoided hitting all of his fingers, but barely scratched his pinkie (he had always had trouble toward the end), he decided to rummage through the parcels and luggage of the passengers.

Chrysalis was still out cold atop the rounded suitcase she had unceremoniously fallen asleep on, and Spike was occasionally twitching from his spot against the wall in the cabin. The only movement from within was caused by the Courier, who was at work attempting to garner more information from letters, addresses, as well as personal possessions. One such item which Ozzy had taken a liking to was an incredibly ornate silver letter opener, with the words 'My Star Pupil' etched into the handle. Along the handle lay several sapphires, all of which gave the impression that the owner of the letter opener was incredibly well-off.

With his past thoughts of how being viewed as a thief would be a detriment to him coming to mind, Ozzy went against his more wholesome nature and slid the letter opener into a pocket on the inside of his duster.

I am literally drowning in your hypocrisy.

With that possession claimed as his, another thought occurred to Ozzy, one which gave him pause.

Why hasn't anyone gone to check the rest of the cars?

Looking towards the door, Ozzy imagined the scenario of a security detail surrounding the train car, forcing him and his companion into a holding cell. Ozzy was not a fan of being taken prisoner, as his experience in the Sierra Madre reminded him. Moving deftly toward the car door, he looked through the window in an attempt to catch any patrolling conductor off guard. Fortunately, the connecting platform was void of life, and Ozzy set to open the door and inspect the rest of the train.

As most of the cars either carried more luggage or random assortments of sleeping ponies, all of which were unaware of the Courier, who crept throughout the shadows, never once making a sound other than light breathing. It was not until Ozzy reached a locked door that he came to a halt. Peeking through the glass, he could see a wall directly in front of him, appearing to be a divider wall.

The sound of the engine as well as the howling winds would render listening through the door impossible. However, if Ozzy could manage to abscond into the car without detection, perhaps he would make off with some valuable information. Having no other options, he picked the lock on the door and slid the door open as quietly as he could. Thankfully, the inhabitants of the car did not seem to notice the roaring winds, apparently more focused on a heated discussion between them.

The layout of the car seemed to fulfill Ozzy's purpose well enough. Walls partitioned off most of the car, as the beds and entrance were separated by a divider wall, seemingly for the purpose of preserving heat within the car. Opposite of the entrance area was an ornate mirror, held by a golden gilded frame. Upon further inspection, the entire car appeared to be designed for an occupant who could afford to buy a luxury car, if the elegant designs and furniture were any indication.

Returning his focus to the conversation, Ozzy peeked around the divider wall. Huddled around an old-fashioned oil lamp lay six ponies, all of whom were frantically whispering to one another. The dark atmosphere hid most of their features, but the light from the lamp shone their faces against the darkness. Two had their backs to him, two only had their profiles on display from Ozzy's position, and the other two were facing directly toward Ozzy.

Their faces all portrayed a sense of urgency, although Ozzy took a moment to study them. The two that had their back to him both apparently had long hair, one shade pink and the other a dull blonde. The blonde one, oddly enough, was wearing a Stetson cowboy hat.

Nice hat, Calamity Jane. Who died and made her Pest of the West?

The two whose profiles were facing Ozzy were polar opposites, in his opinion. One had a long, purple mane, her fur color was a sheer alabaster white, and she also possessed a horn. Ozzy deduced that this was an average unicorn. The other could only be described as the living incarnation of the color pink. Hair, fur, everything. Ozzy was not used to such a bright color palette from one living organism. The final two, once again of an opposing color scheme, seemed to be staring at the other with an aggravated glare. The pony on the right was a light cyan color, and possessed every color of the rainbow for her hair, as well as purple eyes.

Insert generic gay joke here.

The pony on the left had a a vivid purple for her fur color, her hair appeared to be a darker violet with a pink streak splitting it, and also possessed a horn. A nice mix of diversity, so it seems.

Focusing his hearing on their conversation, what was being said could only be described as hushed and worried panicking. That was silenced, however, as the purple unicorn spoke.

"Everypony, listen to me! We can't just go barging through the rest of the train, waking up everypony else in the process!" Her tone implied that she was the apparent leader of this little group. The cyan one spoke up.

"If somethin' is on the back of the train, we need to go back their and kick it off! If we don't do anything, we're all in danger! What if one of those Yetis hopped on the back?"

One with a heavy southern accent, a good guess would be that it would be the one wearing the stetson, spoke.

"Twilight, ah'm surprised that you don't wanna go back there. Last time ah checked, Spike was fixing ta be by his lonesome. What if whatever is back there is putting him at risk?" Twilight frowned, thinking of her number one assistant. "I know that he's back there, but we need time to mount a proper defense. Besides, if it was a Yeti, wouldn't we have heard the screams of all of the other passengers? I say we wait until we reach the next stop, then surround that car."

A timid voice spoke up, one that was barely above a whisper. Ozzy had to lean in just to hear what this other pony was saying.

"Twilight, I just want Spike to be okay. He's not able to look after himself just yet. We should at least go back and make sure that he's alright." Nodding and agreeing humming followed the voice. The alabaster pony voiced her opinion.

"I agree that we wait until we reach the next stop to professionally handle whatever is aboard the train, but I also do fear for the safety of Spikey-Wikey. Maybe just one of us could sneak back there and bring him up here."

Her voice had an old-money accent. She sounded as one of those holier-than-thou types that irked Ozzy to no end. Twilight looked toward the group. "Alright. I'll go back there and check up on him." Just as she was about to stand, the pink one who had been silent until this point bounced from her position and spoke.

"No, Twilight! I got this one! I'll make sure Spike is okay, while the rest of you stay nice and cozy up here!"

Definitely full of energy, that one. Ozzy could only assume that she was the Pinkie Pie that Spike wrote about in his journal. Twilight looked to Pinkie, letting her shoulders droop. "Are you sure? I don't mind going back there, Pinkie." Pinkie, for her part, was still bouncing in place. "Of course, Twilight! I'll be in and out in a jiffy!" With that, Pinkie disappeared into a fine cloud of confetti and dirt. As the rest of the group stared at where the pink pony once bounced, Ozzy decided that it was time for him to return to the caboose.

Past the slumbering ponies and random assortment of luggage, Ozzy barely made a sound. Moving through another pony-less car, he turned back to ensure that he was not being followed. Finding that he was, he continued to the rear of the train. It took everything in his willpower not to jump in amazement at what he saw. Standing before him in the center of the car was the pink pony herself. She stood there glaring at Ozzy, her only movement being keeping herself stable as the train jostled.

Ozzy's hand crept toward his hip, his full intention being to put a bullet in this pony's head. He reached, but stopped when she spoke.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

They stared, Ozzy not being a stranger to intense showdowns, pitting one's will against the others. "Why not?" His tone was calm, yet his eyes never left her. "If you shoot me, that'll alert everyone on the train. Plus, you'll be branded a murderer, and you won't last a second against my friends if you kill me."

Just kill her and toss her off the side of the train. What's one more body to the pile?

Pinkie had a point, though. Ozzy knew that his best bet would be to win her over using his charming demeanor.

Yeah, that's a fucking riot.

Fuck you.

Attempting to comply, Ozzy brought his hands to rest hanging at his sides. "Alright, you've got my attention. What do you want?" The pony did not blink once. Her gaze showed that this situation needed her full attention, and she would not leave until it was resolved. "I want to make sure that Spike is okay. I know that you're back there with him. I don't know you, and I'd like to think that we could be friends, but I will make this perfectly clear," She slowly started walking toward him. "If you hurt him in any way, shape or form," She stopped directly in front of him, "I will not hesitate to do very unkind things to you. Got that?" She punctuated with a hard hoof jab into his leg.

Ozzy, for his part, knew that he would be screwed if she decided to turn on him. He was in an incredibly unfavorable situation, and he knew that the only way to resolve it would be to be calm. "Alright, pony,"

"My name is Pinkie." She cut him off, her voice resembling a growl.

"Pinkie," he knelt down so that he was at eye level with her. "It appears that we have a mutual destruction agreement between us." Seeing her puzzled look, Ozzy explained. "You're right. You don't know me. You don't know what I can do. I promise you this," He leaned toward her. "As long as you don't say a word about my presence here, I will not slaughter your kin."

Pinkie stared at the man in befuddlement. "That's not what I meant. I'll tell everypony if you hurt him." Ozzy laughed, adding to the pony's growing fear. "You don't get it, do you? If you tell everyone that I'm here, I'll have no choice but to kill all of you." There was a glint in his eyes, one that was unsettling to Pinkie. "Y-you couldn't do that. My friends, the Princesses, everypony will be against you. You won't stand a chance." Her voice began wavering, uncertain of her odds of success. Bringing his hand up, Pinkie was startled upon feeling a sharp blade at her throat. She stared into his eyes, feeling her will grow weaker.

They stayed there, one frozen from her mounting fear, the other to drive his point home. Ozzy slowly dragged the blade across Pinkie's throat, making her wince. Pinkie could feel the tension in the car increase, forcing her to mentally prepare an escape plan. A grin formed on Ozzy's face, reminding Pinkie of her 'Pinkamena' incident. She was used to smiles, be it happy or forced, but this smile was unsettling. This smile was born from a sadistic creature, one who thoroughly enjoyed his profession. Ozzy felt something rising within him, something that he had not felt in quite some time.

Silence permeated the air, only interrupted by Pinkie's unintentional gasps of surprise every time the blade made contact with her skin. "You think I haven't had to kill an entire nation? I've killed one, conquered another, and am in the process of conquering a third. A land with ponies under my thumb would be interesting." His voice grew calmer, with a hint of joviality. Pinkie knew that he was enjoying this. She couldn't just let him walk all over her.

She wouldn't.

"Listen, you. I-"

"You can call me the Courier." He cut her off.

She continued. "Alright, Courier. You may be big and scary, but I won't let you hurt my friends. I wo-" She was cut off as Ozzy tackled her onto the ground. Pinkie did her best to kick and bite where she could, but she was no match for the well-trained survivor. They wrestled for control, but ultimately ended with Ozzy on top of Pinkie. He held the blade to her throat, but Pinkie noticed something different about this Courier.

His eyes were wider, and resembled a feral animal. His breathing was rapid, shallow. His left eye twitched, as well as his whole upper torso. The sly grin transformed into a manic smile. What was the most startling, however, was the change in his voice.

"Did you really think you could just walk out?"

Have at it.

Loud. Growling. Sneering.

Absolutely terrifying.

The Courier stood, grabbing Pinkie by the tail. He swung her from her position on the floor to against a wall. Pinkie could have sworn that she had broken several ribs from that. From there, he smashed her on the floor again. She was certain that she had a concussion at that point. After she made impact, he grabbed her by the back of the head, marching toward one of the windows as he did. Once he reached it, he slammed her face-first into the glass. Cold air mixed with broken glass nearly knocked Pinkie out, but she unfortunately stayed conscious.

The Courier threw her to the ground, watching her writhe in agony. Blood dripped from her face, and she was more than certain that she had several hospital-worthy injuries.

"You know, I normally take a backseat on these kinds of things... However, I really just wanted to let off some steam."

Before Pinkie could reflexively curl into a ball, the Courier sprinted forward and swung his boot toward the pony. As his boot made solid connection with her jaw, Pinkie splayed out across the floor, pain coursing through her body. Hoping beyond hope that he would have mercy on her, the Courier landed on top of her, spreading her limbs apart. Pinkie could tell that this encounter was heading towards a place that she never wanted to visit.

"I'm assuming by my actions as well as 'letting off steam', you know what's about to happen, right?"

Pinkie could barely acknowledge the Courier, as she was too focused on the agony that played throughout her body. Surprised that she was still conscious, the Courier slid his hand down toward his pants zipper. Hearing the zipper only increased the misery within Pinkie, as she was completely defenseless against him. Leaning down, Goat whispered in her ear.

"Bite the pillow, Pinkie. I'm going in dry."

Dizziness. That was an unusual thing for Ozzy to feel.

As Ozzy came to, all of the events within the train car came rushing back. Strangely enough, he did not have the usual sense of sympathy that accompanied one of Goats' tirades. He found himself lying on the floor of the car, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision. Slowly getting to his feet, Ozzy found Pinkie lying on the ground as well. To say she had seen better days would be an understatement. Walking over to her, he performed a quick inspection of her well being.

Broken jaw, what felt to be five broken ribs, gashes across her face... Blood stained in between her legs.

Fuck.

Like it? I made it all by myself.

Pinkie would need a few months in the hospital to recover from this trauma. The psychological scars, however, may never heal.

Just how I like my women: unwilling, and leaving them mentally scarred for life.

Knowing that the odds of Goat fabricating a cover story are slim, Ozzy attempted to wake the unconscious pony. With a few light slaps to the face, the pony began to stir. As she shook her head to clear her vision, her eyes focused on Ozzy. She began hyperventilating, a familiar sense of dread filling her being. Quickly devising a plan, Ozzy spoke. "Do you want it to be worse?" His question made Pinkie shake her head in panic. "Then listen to me: you got back there, you found a Yeti, beat it, tossed it off and made sure that Spike is ok." He ran his left hand over her battered stomach. "You also got the shit kicked out of you. Sound fair?" To add insult to injury, Ozzy flashed her his showman smile, adding to the horror of the situation.

"M-monster." Pinkie whispered, blood seeping from her mouth.

As she said this, Ozzy brought down Blood Nap straight through her hoof, easily slicing through her skin and bone. Pinkie cried out in pain, followed by whimpering sniffles. "Do. We. Have. A. Deal?" Ozzy punctuated every word by twisting the blade in her hoof, as Pinkie squirmed on the floor.

"Y-yes! We have a deal!" Her voice trailed off into sobbing. Ozzy placed his free hand on her hoof, and pulled Blood Nap from her limb. He stood, beginning to march for the door. Before he reached it, through her racking sobs, Pinkie spoke. "What are you? Why were there two of you?" The fur underneath her eyes was stained with blood and tears. Without turning back, Ozzy answered.

"I'm the Courier. Never forget that."

With that, Ozzy exited the car, leaving Pinkie to walk back to her friends with her injuries and shattered spirit.

That got pretty heated back there.

Yeah, it did. How did it feel?

Felt good to be let off of my chain, for once. We should do that more often.

I don't think so. I'm surprised I let you go like that, to be honest.

Alright. Well, you'll potentially not only be labeled as a thief or murderer, now. You can add rapist to that list! Yay!

Yeah. Great. There goes my plan of being seen as the good guy.

Ah, but it's so much more fun to be a villain. You get a cape! Come on. Chicks dig the cape.

Shut up.

Also, doesn't it seem weird how she knew what your gun was?

... She did. I had never seen her before, yet she knew that I was able to kill her from that distance.

Something tells me that she knows more than she lets on. Keep an eye on her.

Can do.