Hunter

Three days later...

The frown on my face deepened. I heard the defiance and door slam even from my distance. I folded the paper airplane and tossed it gently towards the home’s open window.

Like she had done before, she tried the neighbor next door. More yelling, more apologizing, more door slamming. I barely had time to finish the paper airplane before she got to that one.

I hadn’t meant to stumble upon her. It happened on accident. Then again, no one stumbles on purpose.

I’d been following Celestia, gathering intelligence per se. Ever since my last appearance at that concert house, she’d been going town to town giving speeches about me, informing all the ponies that I was very real and very dangerous. Every time she’d done so, she’d give different pieces of advice depending on the location. I hadn’t been found yet because I was smart. You wouldn’t expect your enemy to be right under your nose the entire time, or right under your carriage.

Let me just say it is very hard to prop yourself under a royal carriage for unspecified amounts of time. Especially a moving one. Flying a mile high. With winged guards flying beside it. While holding onto all my stuff, a gear bag and bomb bag.

I was glad I wasn’t afraid of heights. I wasn’t really afraid of a lotta things now that I think about it. It’s hard to be afraid when everything else is scared of you.

After her little speeches, some of which I got to say were pretty damn good, Celestia would go into a usually two hour or so meeting with the town mayors and officials, giving me plenty of time to survey the land and conduct research on my targets. Most of the information seemed like complete bogus, but things were very different here.

Every bit of info was worth weight that carried the hammer.

God we could be so cryptic...In the end, I guess that didn’t matter.

Currently, Celestia was back in Ponyville, a place of threats around every corner. Folks here were very stricken at the death of the one pony I killed and cooked. I learned his name was Mr. Hayseed.

Apparently eating one of their own kind was a big deal. It was duly noted. I probably wouldn’t eat them anymore. It wasn’t cannibalism and I have no quarms against the practice, but there was always something strange in the prospect of eating something I could hold a conversation with.

Anyways, during these political meetings, many of which are a complete bore fest with nothing of substantial worth, I go wandering to get a better lay of the land. I’m great at hide and seek, but I’m just mortified at how easy it is to sneak around these ponies. I could have robbed many of them blind if I wanted.

Some of them I did rob. This one guy was flashing cash all around and was practically asking for it. He even had three money bags on his ass, so I assumed he was filthy rich anyways.

They used gold as a common currency too, which actually surprised me. Can you imagine using a gold coin to pay for a couple of apples? I sure as hell had some better ideas on how to spend them back home.

...One of these ponies greatly intrigued me though.

She was a Pegasus with a gray coat, pale blonde-green hair, and a bubbles on her sides.

What made her special was her eyes. They were completely out off sync. She had a very bad lazy eye and I wasn’t sure if she was born with it or if she gained it through an accident, but I leaned towards genetics seeing how she seemed off balance yet had no physical conditions that hinted mortal injuries.

From what I gained from following her around, she is a mail delivery girl of sorts. From some of the conversations I heard, I pieced together that she had had a package that was addressed to someone in this town, but the address was blotched with ink and unreadable. Despite that, she still strived to try and deliver the package. She’d been going door to door trying to find out who the package went to all afternoon.

For some reason, almost everyone she went to outright called her a stupid horse and shut the door on her. Many went the extra mile and insulted her further, generally calling her a cross-eyed retard before politely slamming the door in her face. Some of them, however, did have the good grace to not insult her. Some were even polite. Some were the wrong kind of polite, speaking slow and quiet like she was brain hurt. She seemed slower than most, but she was definitely not a retard.

The bottom line is that most of these ponies royally pissed me off so much that I almost went on a chain killing spree on several different occasions. I settled for writing very well thought out and well written anonymous death threats, which I folded into airplanes and tossed into most of their houses.

I didn’t understand it though: their kind of mistreatment towards her. They treated her badly even though she was no different than them. She did look slightly different, yeah, but that was no justification for their treatment.

Her flaws were fine; they were what made one an individual. She was how she was. Her dedication, temper control, and sweetness seemed to outweigh her image alone. But even though she was great, they still treated her like the ground and walked all over her.

And the thing was that despite their treatment, she still looked for the owner of the package. She smiled every time she opened a door. The smile was so real that I couldn’t believe it was fake. I don’t know why she kept opening the doors. Why would you open a door when you know you’d get mentally slapped?

I sort of knew why she would act that way. I was different too. The blindness in my eye was proof. Because of something so minor, because of something so trivial, kids from my home went to great lengths to try to hurt me mentally, sometimes even physically. It made no sense.

This mare put up a kind front and tried to act nice in hopes that others would show kind affection back. I did it before, but I never did get the kind treatment I yearned for. It’s one of the reasons I was how I was now. I stopped because it never worked.

And despite it not working for her, she still did it. She had to have liked being hurt. It was the only reason I could think of as to why she would do what she did, why she would put up with their words.

I watched as she approached another house. The Unicorn that answered the door wasn’t ecstatic about it seeing the cross-eyed Pegasus, but she wasn’t mean about it. She politely refused having ordered anything and closed the door. The Pegasus apologized for wasting her time through the door and made to move. She took to the sky. Out of serious curiosity, I continued following her.

It was late, so next to no one was out which made stalking much easier. I watched deftly from the shadows as she glided just above the buildings, her delivery satchel weighing her down somewhat. As I continued tailing her, I was cautiously watching my sides for any stragglers who might see me. The sun was almost completely down, so everyone was pretty much in their homes by this point. Not her though.

I watched as she landed into a very open park. She plopped down on a bench, her bag next to her. I heard her sigh heavily and close her eyes.

“This isn’t good,” she said aloud. “I visited every home in Ponyville, but I still couldn’t find out who this package went to.” She didn’t seem to notice me as I approached her.

“Mind if I sit here?” She jumped slightly, her derped eyes opening up. I half expected her to scream, the other half plead, and somewhere in between run away, but she did none of this. She struggled for a moment to focus her eyes somewhat on me, though one of them was still badly askewed. She smiled and scooted over despite my looming stature, the machete strapped to my thigh, quiver at my hip, and bow on my back.

“Sure!” she said gleefully. I blinked before sitting down. She must’ve not known who I was. That or she was fearless.

“Aren’t you out late?” I asked. Her smile fell a bit as she looked down at her bag.

“I’ve been trying to find who ordered this package. Somepony is gonna be upset when they don’t get it.” She looked back up to me. “By the way, I’ve never seen anypony like you before. I’m Ditzy Doo, but everyone calls me Derpy Hooves. What’s your name?”

I cringed on the inside at her innocence, cringing again when she told me her name and nickname. That was just sad.

“My name is Trance,” I answered politely. Her face scrunched up in thought. I was a cold hearted serial killer, but even I thought that face was cute as it was strange. I made a mental note to find out how the muscles in their face worked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before,” she replied. I was honestly surprised she didn’t, what with Celestia going around with speeches dedicated to me. None of them were very positive of course, but hell! A pony princess thing was giving speeches in my name! When was the last time anyone royal even gave a worthwhile speech?

“Can I ask what you what you were delivering?” I asked in an attempt at shifting the conversation off of me. She reached down and pulled a box out of her satchel. How she did it with hooves, I will never know. It was another note I pinned to the corkboard in the back of my mind.

“This is what I was delivering. It’s really heavy too,” she said, dropping it on the bench. I blinked at the sound it made when she dropped it. “It’s heavy, so I think it's something like crystals or gem-”

“Rocks,” I said dryly. I pulled out my machete and cut down the side of the box. Several heavy rocks tumbled out the side of the box. A note with RETARD written on it in big letters fell out as well.

Holy fuck. I wanted blood.

Ditzy picked up the note and studied it with her left eye, her good eye. “Ohh...Looks like somepony was pulling a prank! Aha haha...!” she said laughing quietly, though there wasn’t any joy. Seeing her lie to herself like that made my heart break a little. I grabbed the pony by what I think was her shoulders.

“You are not stupid.” I coldly said to her. “I’ve watched you for a few hours and I know what you're doing. You're faking it. Why? Why do you keep doing it? They don’t deserve a lick of kindness from anyone, especially not from you. Can’t you see they don’t like you?” She blinked, taken aback at what I suddenly borderline shouted at her. Her mane fell over her face, covering her good eye. She was about to cry.

“A-are you gonna eat me now?”

I released my grip on her. I wasn’t surprised.

“You knew who I was.” It wasn’t a question. It was a definite statement. She slowly nodded her head in a frightful way, as if she expected me to suddenly clamp my teeth on her. “You didn’t run when you saw me. Why?”

“I-I was scared to run,” she admitted. She curled into a ball, hiding her face with a wing. I stared at the poor animal as she quivered in a ball.

“I do not touch the victims,” I muttered under my breath. She apparently heard me.

“Why not?!” she yelled through muffled feathers. “Everypony else does! I’m just a stupid Pegasus who messes things up!” I started getting irritated and grabbed her by the shoulders again. I must’ve lost control of my strength for a moment because she actually whined when I grabbed her.

“Look at me! I told you you’re NOT stupid!”

She cried looking at the ground. “I am stupid...!” she screamed.

“You are not!”

“I am!”

“You are not!”

“What would you know!”

“I know everything! I’m a goddamn genius!”

“If you’re so smart, then you’d know I’m stupid!”

“What!?”

“I am stupid! I am just a weak stupid pony that messes everything up! I am, I am, I AM!”

I went silent. I couldn’t believe how delusional she was. Her scars didn’t run on the surface of her skin. They went deep. How long had she suffered mental abuse to become like that?

I slowly shook my head. “You're actually very stupid. Stupid for thinking you’re weak!” She flinched at my words. “A weak person doesn’t take an entire town’s abuse standing up with a smile like you! Know YOUR WORTH!” I was on my feet and shouting.

‘Ah fucking IDIOT…!’ I was mentally cursing at myself, not the mare.

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was a moment of boiled anger. Or passion. I don’t know what it was that drove me to follow this mare. I don’t know what it was that drove me to say what I did. I don’t know why I even bothered with such an outburst. It was against everything in my body to try and intervene as I did. I have no idea why I did what I did.

...Or so I say. A smart person can’t lie to himself that easy.

I wasn’t entirely speaking to her. I was speaking to myself nine years ago. It’s the real reason I was so worked up over this Pegasus. She was in almost the exact same predicament I had been in. But that wasn’t the point.

The point is that there had been a lot of yelling tonight, plus I was wearing the white side of my hoodie at the moment. It didn’t exactly blend with the night. Maybe that was why despite my and the mare’s little episodes, I felt as though I was being observed.

I glanced behind me to see multiple faces, thirty two to be precise. My eidetic memory let me work faster than most, so I knew the number dead on. The first one was Celestia. The second one was Luna. The other thirty figures were armored guards with spears on all sides, fourteen winged guards, sixteen footmen.

Both princesses looked as surprised as I did. I couldn’t quite comprehend how deep in shit I was, but if I was in a pool, I would be at the side labeled deep end. I wondered how much they had heard.

While I could take a shot at Luna from where I was, I had the strangest urge not to kill in front of Ditzy. I pondered the strange thought for a moment as I quickly wiped the expression off my face.

“Sunny Sides and your sister, Little Zany! We meet again!” I said while turning and doing a mock bow. My disrespectful nicknames knocked them out of the stupor. Nicknames were something I was notorious for giving even in my world. I was honestly a bit happy with myself for coming up with one for Luna so quickly on the spot.

The sun princess stepped up,“Please come quietly Trance. No pony needs to get hurt. There has to be a peaceful way to solve your problem.” Celestia spoke to me. The guards surrounding me brandished their spears. I peeked over my shoulder to see Ditzy glancing at me from under her wings.

“Thy shouldn’t test us Trance,” the ebony one spoke at last. “A mere mortal could not defeat us.” I could feel my blood boil as I faced the night princess. If there’s one thing I hated, it’s when someone talked like they were better than me.

“If you can bleed, you can die,” I said certainly.

Luna looked at me in an almost disappointed way. “Please do not retaliate. There is no where you can run, nor can thy can hide from us under the night.”

I was an escape artist and magician. In a sense, I was a modern day Houdini. Saying something like I can’t hide rubs off on me the wrong way. I even more strongly resented anyone saying I couldn’t escape. Besides, I had a trick up my sleeves.

Two tricks actually.

I felt a cylinder slip partially out of my sleeve and into my right hand, the darkness concealing my actions. The same process happened in my left. Many holes covered the right cylinder, the other having a plain smooth surface. Loud pings cut through the deathly silence, several ears twitching at the noise. Two small rings fell to the grass, both gleaming under the moonlight.

I cracked a small yet devilish smile.

“Catch me if you can.”

In rapid succession, I tossed two objects into the air and pulled my hood over my face and plugged my ears.

One object revealed to be a flash grenade, blasting the air with both an ear deafening ring and a vicious bang of blinding light. The partner object turned out to be a smoke grenade, blowing up and shrouding the area in a gray smoke.

In the chaos, I pulled off my double-sided hoodie, turning the white side black before slipping it back over me. I scooped up my bags and bolted out of the cloud of smoke, small wisps of smoke following me out. Everyone was too disoriented to notice or react to me.

I dashed through the park and into the suburban areas that I’d followed the mailmare through, trying to process my next thoughts.

‘I had to make distance from them. I could run to the forest. I may be able to outrun them.’

‘No, that’s a stupid idea. I’d done some landscaping, but I’m still too unfamiliar with that forest. They’d probably catch me in a straight footrace before I fully disappeared into the thick foliage.’

I rounded a few simple cottages, my shoes pounding against a cobblestone road.

‘I could get to the railroad I’ve seen and hitch a train.’

I breathed at a steady rate, keeping my pace as I heard flaps of wings through the air as well shouts to find me. I shook my head.

‘No time...There’s too many looking at the moment. They’d expect me to try a speedy getaway...No time to think...Dismiss the first two thoughts and go for a third…’

‘Hide somewhere they wouldn’t expect me to.’

The cobblestone beneath me evened out to a smooth stone surface. I found myself in a market square of some sorts. I took a very deep breath, the smell of ginger and sugar flooding my senses.

The smell was so sickly sweet it made me stop and retch on the spot. I looked up to see what appeared to be a store straight out of Hansel and Gretel, one that had a frosted candy roof. There was no way under any circumstances would anyone see me willingly walking through the door of that store.

I heard galloping in the distance.

‘I’ll go through a window.’

I unsheathed my machete and ducked to the side of the store. I found a low window that I jammed the machete into. I was met with no resistance at all as I levered the glass panes up. The naive ponies of this place didn’t even have latches on the window. Figures.

I rolled my eyes and dove through the open window, performing a near silent roll in the process. I quickly shut the window behind me and pressed my back to a wall. I did a quick survey of the room. There didn’t appear to be anyone on the store floor or behind the counter. The sound of trotting got louder. Light’s even appeared to be shined through all windows of the store. I clicked my tongue against my teeth and ran deeper into the store. I hopped over the store counter and ducked low. Lights shined directly into the store, lights so bright that it killed my night vision. They remained for a moment before dulling down.

I sighed a breath of relief. I set my bag on the ground next to me with a thunk.

With a thunk?

I moved the bag to see that I had set it over an almost invisible wooden cellar. I lifted up the hatch to see a set of old wooden stairs lead into darkness. The old cellar seemed like the perfect place to hide for the time being. I doubted anyone would expect someone on the run to hide somewhere smack dead the center of town.

I grabbed my bags and stepped into the cellar, slowly dropping the cellar door back into place. The stairs creaked, echoing through the darkness. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fancy silver plated lighter. I flicked the flint wheel as the gas ignited into a small flame, illuminating a limited area in front of me.

I slowly descended the stairs, each creak of the stairs shouting in the unmoving quiet. It felt like forever until I reached the bottom, where I sighed and dropped my luggage.

I sat down on the bottom steps to catch my breath. I pulled down my hood, thankful for the coolness of the cellar. While I was removing my hood, however, that’s when I noticed the banner above me. I raised the lighter a bit.

“Welcome to Ponyville Cyclops thing-a-ma-jig…” Every letter was glittery and in a different color.

'What the fuck?'

I looked in front of me to see the cylinder of a pink cannon pointing straight at me.

'Ah sh-'

*BOOM!*

My eardrums were nearly blown out of commission as the cannon fired point blank in my face, lighting up the room and hitting me with confetti and streamers. The sound staggered me to the floor, my vision shaking. I assumed this was what it felt like to get hit with a flash grenade. Damn that’s effective...

“SURPRISE~!” an annoyingly high pitched, familiar voice screamed, my ears still ringing. Great, I wasn’t deaf. “Welcome to Ponyville!!!” If hell had sound, I imagine it would be her voice. I wish I were deaf now.

I grabbed on to the stairs and hoisted myself up, the black blotches in my vision clearing away. Several candles spread around the room had somehow gotten lit, basking the room in light. I saw a single pink pony, one that was smiling broadly with a platter of cake in her hooves. I’d seen this same pony the day I shot Luna. Her and some mare named AJ were some of those looking for me.

“I’m Pinkamena Diane Pie! But all my friends just call me Pinkie Pie! Or Pinkie, or Miss Pinkie, or that pink pony, and OOO one time I got called annoying and that was weird because they didn’t say pink, which is in like every form of my name because I’m like the picture of pink and-!”

Her ear twitched twice as I swung my machete at her. She dropped the cake and bounced back right as the metal grazed her skin. A thin cut barely deep enough to draw blood opened up right on the side of her neck. Some of her blood managed to splatter onto my weapon. She reached up to her neck before looking at her hoof. The tip of it was painted red. Her pupils shrunk and her hair literally deflated all the way.

“I’m gonna tear your heart out for blasting me with that cannon,” I muttered through clenched teeth. I don’t know what it was, but I was really pissed at this pony in particular. I don’t know if it was because I hated the color pink or if it was just her voice.

I ran my tongue over the edge of my blade. Her blood was strong and irony, but literally very sweet. She had such a high sugar to blood content that I was shocked she was alive. Her blood was disgusting.

I flipped the machete in my hand before holding it in a reverse knife grip. I stepped forward and swung once more for her neck, determined to end her with my second swing.

*CLIIIING!*

'...Oh…?'

There was a large meat cleaver blocking my blade. I was not certain, but I think she’d pulled the blade from out of her straight hair.

“That hurt...” she squeaked out in a dejected tone. I watched her as she dragged her own tongue across her hoof, licking her own blood from it. She shivered, her eyes closing in euphoria. She opened her eyes half way, still looking at me with shrunken pupils.

Well fuck. That’s not good.

I took a single step back. I gazed at her as she mimicked a stance similar to mine, somehow managing to wield her knife the same way I did my machete. She held the pose for a moment before dashing forward and trying to cut my midsection. I raised my blade and block the blow. She was stronger than she looked. She was almost able to force my blade back.

She crouched low and hopped back. She licked her butcher blade before lurching forward with a cold and calculated look in her eyes. I swung my blade with both hands, managing to stop her attack. She used the momentum from my swing to fall backwards a safe distance away. Our eyes met for a solid five seconds before a small dagger was flicked at my head. I managed to move, but the blade still nicked by my cheek. In the seconds I was dodging, she had once again closed the space between us. I barely had time to raise my machete over my body before her heavy cleaver once again aimed for my neck. Sparks literally flew from the clash of metal, making me question what her knife was forged from.

Our faces were inches apart, showers of sparks flowing down from our weapons. I looked lazily at her. She looked back at me ecstatic, a smile blown out of proportion on her face. The sparks brought out that cold look in her eyes. I had that same look in mine.

I stepped back and swung for her face with my left fist. She seemed to predict my movements like psychic, cleanly dodging and smoothly swinging back. I bounded backwards, avoiding the attack.

I started questioning and evaluating this fight. I had never fought someone like this before. No one had ever been on equal ground with me. Not like this. Even though we were both pulling our punches, it was obvious to both sides that we were we were equal in the moment. I’d truly attempt to kill her, but I wanted to test her first.

I wanted to know if she was worthy to take on Jack.

I tossed my machete into my left hand, the pink pony once again mimicking my actions. We circled one another before we both charged at the same time. Our weapons danced against each other, lighting up the room. I smirked, sending my right fist directly into her cheek. I was confused the next moment.

My vision flashed black. I found myself disoriented on the ground, my hand gripping the side of my face. Pinkamena was in the same surprised state as me. We both swung with our free hand/hoof at the same time. It was a double feint.

I recovered faster. I picked my fallen blade up and dashed forward. She grinned and repeated my actions again in picture perfect performance, our weapons colliding in a show of fiery sparks.

We both jumped back after another waterfall of sparks cascaded from metal to floor, both of us taking a moment to catch our breaths. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her tongue lapping up blood dripping from the edge of her weapon. I hadn’t realized it, but there was a numbing pain across my right shoulder, a gash a few inches long painting my jacket. I don’t even remember her hitting me, but it didn’t matter. I had enough.

I reached into my coat, pulling out an ornate silver flask with a gold trim. I spun the cap off and swallowed a mouthful of a devastating brew, the pink pony making the mistake of only watching me. I quickly replaced the flask in my coat with my silver lighter. I flicked the flint and held the flame close to my face. Her smile faltered for the first time since this battle.

‘Burn.’

I spit a gout of flammable battle brew from my mouth with great force, a torrent of toxic mix hitting the flame. The liquid became a spinning torrent of flame trailing right toward the pony.

Tears fell from her eyes as she screamed out an ear piercing wail as the burning brew contacted the middle of her left foreleg, the smell of singed fur and burning flesh filling the cellar.

Her crying was justified. Battle brew is an old trade spirit mixed with chemicals. It has been tinkered to burn bright, hot, fast, and to chemically burn the nerves as well as physically. It causes the worst possible burns that painfully burn for days even with treatment. Water will not put it out and will do very little to alleviate the pain.

I watched the burn do its work as she rocked back and forth on the floor, her knife all but forgotten. She clutched her arm, panting, wheezing, shaking, and crying from the burn that hurt literally like hell. The flame had barely touched her for a few moments before burning out, but that was all it took. The damage was done. She would have scars on her skin forever. I was surprised she didn’t pass out from the pain.

Very few would consider it, but it was an honor to be burned by the brew and live. Burn victims suffered in agony like none could comprehend. I’ve heard stories of people that have committed suicide to stop the pain.

I stepped forward, kicking away the butcher knife for good measure. Diane was laying flat against the floor, bawling her eyes out and clutching her arm, still in a daze from the pain. I leveled my machete by her neck. I suppose it was an alright fight.

“H-eh…”

I froze, almost dropping my weapon.

“Tee-hee heh ha~! Ah hahaha hehe!”

She was grinning and laughing through her tears. How the fuck…?

“That was so much fun~!!!” she playfully sang out, squishing both hooves against the smile on her face. The sobbing pink mare suddenly lurched forward, tackling me to the ground. I was too surprised to react. “You are abSOlutely irresistible!”

She jumped off of me and dove into a corner of the cellar. She rapidly rubbed both hooves against her hair, making it puff back up into its original form. She smiled and winked at me once before curling up into a crying body on the floor.

I did a double take on her spontaneous actions. The situation quickly dawned on me.

‘I lost the minute she fired at me.’

That confetti cannon shot she hit me with was very loud. I stayed out of irritation. That was where my margin of error started.

I didn’t even have time to pick up my bags before I was forced to the ground by an unseen force. It was like gravity suddenly concentrated down on me. All I really knew was that I really hated the feeling of restraint like this.

“Are thy ok Pinkie Pie?” Princess Luna asked with worry lacing her voice. I couldn’t even see what was happening from my angle. I heard the clatter of several guards climbing down the stairs.

“This meanie broke in and hurt me!” she cried out.

She was smart. She was skilled. She was a damn good liar.

I managed to turn my head to the sound of her voice. When I did, I saw her eyes flash me that sadistic look again. I should have known better. I should have known not everyone could be ignorant.

All I know at the moment was that this was not over. No, I was not done testing her.

She silently mouthed me three words in the dark. I swear I could hear her voice in my head.

‘Welcome to Ponyville~!’

...
...
...

Wind whipped through her mane. The air was hard and heavy, as was the ground beneath her hooves. A lone mare was walking a barren wasteland. Her entire body suddenly shuddered once, all the way from the tips of her ears to the end of her tail. She paused, blinking slowly.

“My Pinkie sense is tingling,” she said aloud, her voice as dry as the land around her. She reached into a saddle bag on her back and pulled out a small rock.

“Yes Boulder. That’s not good.”

Maud Pie began to walk the barren wasteland to a nearby farmhouse, preparing for a special surprise trip to Ponyville.

No one enjoyed surprises like Pinkamena after all.