Incubus

Fuck.

The blonde, orange-coated mare greeted her snow-coated acquaintance. They clicked glasses and enjoyed their martinis, flowing elegantly in their garments beneath the spotlight. First, they gulped their drinks down and set them aside on the bar counter. A dance started when Applejack took her forehoof and worked into a wordless waltz. Rarity chuckled at the attention they were drawing in, puckering both lips as they faded into shadow.

"What are you doing here...?!" Applejack whispered angrily, forcing her partner to bite their own lip.

"I'm just as surprised as you are, darling. They said there'd be an ex-mercenary here. I didn't think it'd be my favorite redneck." Rarity hushed, chirping shortly as her lead dipped her hard, only laughing it away.

Soon as they danced their way into the very left corner, they found a vacant stairwell. Perfect. The two reached between their hindlegs and undid their holster clips, which stuck against their pubic mounds. Jacquelyn pulled out her snubnose, a .38 special compared to her friend's. 44, which was elaborate with ivory grip. Her own pistol was bare and basic, only coming with a red dot sight.

"Mine's bigger." Rarity hushed, jesting and laughing silently as her shoulder was struck.

"Yeah, well at least I can aim mine." Her partner whispered, starting into a trot.

The guests were doing a head count and the other party guests chattered in-turn. Rarity smacked her flank with the butt of her revolver, hustling them into a half-gallop. Before long, they heard footsteps coming up the distant, creaky stairwell. A full gallop shook the floor ever-slightly and kept them toward the shadows. The deeper they sunk into the warehouse, the darker it became. Soon, the two were taking a rusted, grated elevator down. Down and down, they plunged into the heart of the cult. They stood wordless among the many moans and screams each, added floor brought. And soon, the two trotted side-by-side along a red-lit hallway littered with doors. Behind each door was pain and pleasure together, as if the two were promised forever if one pulled the lever down and severed their ties outside for a perfect never.

Their hoofsteps were so undeniably washed away by the roaring evil beating their ears, they couldn't fear being caught. Jacquelyn and her Saint Clair were trotting side-by-side just like old times. Just like it used to be, when things were simpler than bullets and espionage. All was dead and not a soul stirred when they reached the farthest room back. It was a simple, flat and non-existent space with an electrical panel. They sabotaged every, single wire with both knives hidden at their thighs and electric components from a nearby electric wiring intended for the backup generator. In the midst of chaos and panic, the two took to hard-working, satisfied grins. Applejack would have her rank restored. And Rarity would have her revenge. It wasn't before long that the unmistakable noise of ballistics and demolitions hit from above.

Jacquelyn started into a full gallop, tossing her friend over her back. Rarity yelped for a moment before fixing her eyes for night vision. Everyone was still inside, panicking. All those damned cultists and their victims would crush alongside the warehouse. She shook her head, clearing it of wickedness. No. The place wouldn't collapse. It wouldn't be demolished. The airstrike only pertained to the ground floor.

Applejack dashed into a slide, jamming them against the elevator walls just before pressing her floor. Mere moments passed before a mangled mess of self-mutilated ponies, each amputated or kissed by metal along the skin, shambled out and toward them. They followed mares donning black robes and insectoid masks. Jacquelyn shuttered when she noticed some of the pharyngeal jaws snapping and widening with mucus.

Her partner simply smiled and picked them off with her ivory pistol, smirking quietly at her pinpoint accuracy. Soon, they would be home and eating a hot meal of hay fries and oat burgers. Rarity by herself, ha, but... eating. She wouldn't be regretting herself if she had the other five around to show her the way.

Rarity broke into a wobbly grin, wondering why Sweetie Belle had to go.

Her .44 dropped and left her eyes a toxic, dripping mess of green.