I woke up groggy, a mixture of dying inside and content with yesterday. Sure, hunters were dead. Just didn't know if they were daddy's killers. Probably weren't. But I had practice. Had experience. And, according to my pipbuck, gained a level. Didn't know what that meant, but I'd already felt different. I stumbled out of bed, rolling too quickly. I caught myself with my forelegs, transitioning into some sort of half somersault.

Yawned on my way to the bathroom, humming a lullaby from my memories. When I reached the mirror, I smiled, proud of what I'd learned. I really was shaping up. Couldn't tell if I was what daddy wanted. But I was more than a little girl. I was Glass's daughter. I'd carry on his story.

I thought about how many Hunters had been cruel to mutants. Accounted idea. How many of them carved good people up with a smile like my father. It didn't make me angry. Just... pleasantly happy. At least then, I had something to do.

I gazed into the mirror, smiling.

"It's me."

"What a pretty face." He used to say.

"I never get tired of you, Hope."

That was what he said to me, getting me ready in front of the mirror. I didn't need the physical presence. I had my memories, even in the absence of love. I would hear him sometimes in the back of my mind. He'd tell me to carry on, or that he loved me. It would happen when everything was silent. Sometimes daddy would tell me to break someone's bones a certain way, or that they were vulnerable. I knew, the first time I heard his voice that he never really left.

When I crushed those hunters' ribs, that was him, holding me. Whenever I felt my body moving by itself, it was him. I knew it was. I did. The way my heart calmed, the way the heat felt just right, only daddy could bring that.

I spent some time polishing Daddy's Knife, admiring the little waves along the edge. I was careful not to cut myself on it. For some reason, though, when I tried to replace the handle wrapping, it wouldn't come off. I enjoyed the leathery and silky texture, but it stained and darkened easily. Tried my luck with the pommel. Pommel had a sweet craftsmanship to it. Ended in a perfect, rectangular shape for shoving the blade deeper. For retrieval, the hilt itself was longer than usual and encouraged deep thrusts. Along the region a guard would be, I found a biting grip. The grip material sunk down when pressed and reshaped itself when free of influence.

Uncle Tesla couldn't see me, but he did ask sometimes about the noise. Said I was polishing my present squeaky clean. Auntie Bruise was in the warehouse, probably crying herself to sleep on buffout. I'd left to visit her a couple times. Found her curled up on a medical bed, surrounded by manga. Took some of it and decided to hold her from behind. Felt warm. Just like fresh corpses. Didn't know what to do besides nuzzle her neck with my snout. Even though emotions were a constant challenge, something inside me cared for her. I would never understand the sentiment behind those feelings.

It felt, perhaps, like a perverted sentimentality; an idea of attachment stemming from some sort of primordial preference. The hours I spent laying against her were... pleasant. Warm feeling in my chest. Everything was quiet. Felt right for once again. Only time I remembered feeling that good was killing the Hunters.

When daddy was alive, I was chemically happy. But, that serenity was far-reaching, eternal almost. I felt an overwhelming bittersweet. A place among the stars I called home, that was the peace I felt laying against her... recalling memories of the ribcage slaughter.

It was so comfy, I almost fell asleep. Only, the feeling expired. I felt a chill in my chest, an old, nostalgic emptiness. Then I realized my happiness was gone. I needed it. I needed to experience it one more time. What else could a doe do but cling to satisfying passtimes. I wasn't going to lie. I was addicted. But if murdering highly potential murderers made me happy...?

I'd do it as much as I liked, when I liked.

Auntie Bruise shivered in her sleep. I spotted tears rolling down her cheeks and collecting on her temple. Even if my emptiness was different, I pitied her. She used to feel complete, too. But then, somepony took it away from her. I kissed her scalp and let her go.

I didn't feel enough for her to cry, though I wished her safety as I said goodbye. I knew she needed a lullaby, but the sun was up and twas time to say goodbye. I stopped by the schoolhouse to see if I could buy some information to blackmail the adults. Crept along the walls and stalked beneath the crops. I enjoyed the flaky, decomposing leaves brushing against me. Reminded me of loving forelegs around my waist.

Ms. Drive and Mr. Even Tide were at it again. Early morning rut. Detailed placement of candles and ballgag. They did it over the desk, rocking their hips back and forth. Sex-starved adults. Amusing. Couldn't quit sex if they had to. Birds were chirping and cawing about the scarecrow, masking my noise. I enjoyed taking snapshots of their sins. Made it easier if they ever caught me.

Crept away from mating ritual and shook debris off coat. Felt unclean. I stayed quiet approaching the other school children in the playground. We didn't have school that day. Was almost Hearth's Warming, so children played in toy house. The toy house was the old work station of a famous toymaker. Whatever happened to him, nopony knew.

I found the front door and opened it. The bell rang. But no one came.

Noticed a lack of items to take lining the many basket-filled wall shelvings. Distinct smell of dust, asbestos and plastics. Could've sworn I heard faint whispers. Dismissed it observing the other children. Two zebras. One griffon. Two ponies. No deer, besides me. The ponies and zebras were playing some distinctive ball sport. They bounced a ball against the ground with their hooves and tossed it into baskets.

Felt tired and bored.

Felt okay, but wall stood between us. Children were happy and running around without realizing how it all was. They wished for giddyup buttergirls and new puppies. Their eyes were full of light. It made me sick. Empty. Didn't feel the need to join them in their splendor. Closest urge I had was to stare at the griffon. Wanted to twist their feathers off one by one. Then bathe in oil. Salt wings and marinate in lime-kissed tobasco sauce. Then, enjoy griffon extra crispy and juicy on the inside due to citrus coating.

Griffon noticed me. Feathers ended in orange gradient. Enjoyed staring into her pupils. Golden, tended toward twinkling under light. Sunlight poured in from behind me. Stood in the doorway and observed her. Griffon turned her eyes away, but they always flashed over in curiosity. Three glances. Hn. Showed chemical attraction.

"Is something wrong." I asked.

"N-no, I just... I just don't have anyone to play with. Do you wanna... did you...?"

Sunset orange spread across her cheeks. Spilled over her beak bridge. She rubbed her left foreleg nervously, shying away and stepping back. I decided she was alone like me. Probably deserved better life. Needed a friend. I didn't have any friends, not that I needed them. Just felt like experimenting with sociological bonds.

"Sure. Let's play."

Glimmer of hope in eyes. Didn't realize it was cute at the time. But primal preference told me it was a satisfying visual. Didn't want to disappoint my developing brain. So I followed her around as she ranted on about other kids never being interested. Lead me through entire workshop just to tense up and turn around again.

"Oh, u-h sorry- I guess we don't have anymore Doomsayers & Demons. I-I guess we could play with some toys right?"

I spotted a board game atop a concrete park table not meters away. Around it were three ponies in leather. Early teenagers just lounging around with switchblades and B.B pistols on their belts. All had red hair, liked horsing around and talked like Auntie Bruise. Knew they were from different part of Equestria. Ears perked up to conversation.

"You think that little shit Bird Brain is gonna come around again?"

"Yeah. I wish she did. Been a long time since I got to put someone through a swirly. Could've used some fun back at the crib. Whaddya say we wait for her to come back. The dumb ones always do."

"Ha-! Good idea, Bludgeon! That way we don't even have to get off our asses, eh?"

I clicked the door closed and talked to my friend. Didn't understand bullying that much. But deep down I knew their type. Like hunters. Only weaker. More pathetic. Wanted to hurt something anyway. Needed to gain some influence to have age-appropriate friend. Win-win situation.

"Did they hurt you."

"Well... y-yeah they did. They started slapping me and calling me names at first. Then I told mama and papa but they wouldn't listen. Just- just put my head in the toilets yesterday. I don't wanna go back there. What if they grab me again?"

Let my eyes grow heavy. Felt... calm again. Taste of serenity just over the tip of my tongue.

"Let me deal with them."

She begged me not to go. But I needed to. Couldn't let them keep hurting innocent girl. Griffons grew bigger than ponies. And they didn't forgive so easily. Knew it was for the better even in my ignorant youth. Saw the world for what it was: one big chain reaction. Kill the bandit, or let the hero do it themselves.

I wasn't Swordmare. Or the Silver Storm.

It was me, Hope.

Scrounged around room for teddy bear. Only needed one. Then, found a wooden toy car, followed trail of miniature sleeping bags to find a straw pillow. Filled pillow with a toy truck and snooped around for adults' area. Found wooden door blocked by empty bookshelf. I shoved it over in one push and entered the secret room. Jackpot. Thick, dust and fiberglass particles swam carelessly in the air. Reached single office desk and boarded windows, radiance pouring through tiny crevices in barricaded window. Navigated dark room till I found two cigars, a flip lighter and a screwdriver. Then, taking an extra minute, I found an old, broken pistol within the desk droor.

On the slide were the words 'Der Tote Stein.'

Model was Walker PPK. Later learned caliber through help of adult. Compatible weapon for wielder with opposible digits, but no use to me. Held onto it in my pack, collecting seven .38 rounds and coupling them with the sidearm. Slid out to find bullies taunting friend.

"Yeah? So what, Bird Brain? Your friend is a deer. She ain't so tough. Deers are so skinny I bet they can't even pack a punch."

Bludgeon shoved her against the wall, spilling rows shopping baskets. He formed a wide, twisted grin over his lips. And the lips had feathers in them. He ripped away some of her chest feathers till red cascaded down her winter body. The blood reminded me. And I heard enough, trotting forward.

"Well, well... if it isn't-"

I slammed the pillow into his cheek. The truck crashed into his face and forced tears from his eyes. His cronies stood shocked. But I didn't care. He asked for a truce. I grabbed Bludgeon by the jacket collar and swung him into the door. Waited for him to stumble around. When he turned around to face me, he tried to throw a haymaker. Sloppy. Sheer ignorance.

"You're hopeless."

I ducked, yanked the hem of his jacket and slammed him to the ground. Straddled him and swung my left foreleg down. Snout crunched obnoxiously. The cartilage came snapping upward and brought a smile to my face. Felt good. So good I almost kept pounding him. Friend tackled me to the ground and held me there.

Almost went to push her off when I felt water against me. Tears on my chest. Hot tears. Feathers messy with blood stained my chest till we were the same. Just victims of circumstance.

"Please... you're scaring me. I'm scared. Don't kill him... he's not bad. He's j-just angry. He's angry no one likes hi-him."

Watched the other two scram. Didn't even pick up their 'friend.' Pecking order. Leader was the biggest, meanest asshole around. Found it funny. Found it mildly disappointing. I brushed her wings with my forehooves and promised I'd stop.

Under one condition.

"I'll stop... but if he does it again, I'll rip his beak off."

Told her to get him to the town doctor. Then, dusted myself off after her long hug. Never told her to stop. But I needed my space. Griffon never told me her name, but I'd know soon enough. I frowned seeing the teddy bear. Didn't even get to use it. Trotted off to the dumpster behind the building, tossing the evidence inside. I started a fire with the lighter, then tossed the cigars in to mask the scent of hemoglobin.

Felt good. Decided I should spend more days just killing time

Bright smile.

Author's Note

Level Up!

New Perk Added!

Stalker

You are 15% harder to detect and gain a 15% chance to be ignored when caught if interacting with random passerbys.