Hatchedby SwordTuneChaptersHatchedEnforcersGraveyardEncounterHatchedThe moon shone bright in the sky, casting a long streak of light onto the streets. Things were barely visible. But he didn't find it so demanding on his eyes. No, the night felt like home. Don't let the sunshine and rainbows fool you kid, Equestria's not all it's cracked up to be. "Wha-" Shh... shh... boss wouldn't want you cracking that ole noggin of yours thinking to hard. Let's take it one step at a time, aight? "I...I don't know." For starters, you're dead. "Wait, what?" Mhm, as a doornob. Dead like that light bulb that never seems to last more than a month. Like that old granny across the street. Dead as that one band your parents always listened to when they whisked off to bed to make sweet, sweet lov- "I get the point." He paused. He rubbed his head and crawled off the ground. "Where the hell am I?" Ironic use a words there bucko. "Where." Jeez, really breaking out the cheery attitude, aintchya? Well, your not in hell, f'that's your first guess. "I'm dead, but I'm still in Equestria?" The demon sniffed the air. Place sure smells like a shit hole. Mortal piles of garbage everywhere. He looked around. An alleyway, a couple street lights, and a taxi driving by. Some kind of city perhaps. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Aw, you feel that tickle, dontchya? Get used to it, that's how we do it down in Hell, and the boss likes his telepathy. Makes work clean and efficient. I'm sure you know the mentality, being a murdering ass hole yourself and all. Oh, and yeah, we're in a city. "Wait, what did you say about me? What do you know?" What do you know? He pressed his hooves to his head, but nothing came. He shook the noise, the ringing, but nothing came. His head was empty. His thoughts were gone. Nothing, that's what. Take my advice and keep it like that bucko. Kids like you only make things harder with your mortal attachments. He recovered from his moment. He looked through the darkness at the figure. The voice in his head, it had to have a form. Take a good look. Take a picture if you want. It's swimsuit season after all. He recoiled back. Short, chubby, and unclean, the demon was about as good to look at as the garbage around them. Beard thick with grease, it looked like a rotund donkey, with black twisted horns sticking out the side of its head. The sight of it made him gag. Well fuck you too. Didn't ask for this body, but the boss had it leftover from last season, so here I am, in the flesh. "If that's who you are, then who am I? What's my name?" A bona fide killer. A one of a kind badass. He stared back, uncertain if the demon would ever be straightforward. I guess you're about as thick as that armor you're wearing. He looked down at his chest. Thick leather, with chains layered underneath. Look kid, you're name's not important. It's a thing, of nothing. You're a Hatchling now, and you'll only ever be a Hatchling from now on. Get it yet? "A Hatchling?" Hatched from Hell dumbass. Didn't get that from the demon right in your face? "Why am I here. I still don't know that." The demon chuckled. It pointed to the alley's entrance. You'll find out soon enough. But hey, you're back baby! Have some fun for a change, killjoy. Seeya in a few. "No, wait!" It was gone. The demon didn't leave, it didn't walk away, it was just gone. Hatchling turned around, looking for anything to see his own face. "This is crazy! Am I really dead? Why can't I remember anything?" Hoof steps pattered along, nearing the Hatchling. "Sounds like we've got ourselves a new guy in town," one of the gangsters said. Chains wrapped around his hooves. Two friends followed, with knives at their sides. Another one spoke. "Looks like a freakshow Pain, can we keep him?" "Now settle down Howler," the chained one spoke. "We ain't got the room back home for this guy. We'll have to do the right thing and put this stray to sleep." Hatchling stepped back. As a soldier of Hell, he had one instinct, and he could feel it. "Get back. Don't come any closer." The gangster took another step, and cracked his chain at the Hatchling. Kill. There wasn't a single thought left. There wasn't remorse either. Nature took over the Hatchling, and his only sense was violence. His cloak stretched and weaved around the gansters like a tide of red cloth. The red coiled around their necks. They choked on their own spit. One of the ponies began to glow at the head. A spell. A unicorn. Energy crackled and fire erupted. The cloak sought the heat, swallowing it whole. Hatchling only needed to watch. They were all unicorns. The two others shot too, shocking Hatchling with ice and lightning. The spells hit nothing. Hatchling dodged and gripped his hooves around two horns. Snap! "It's rude to point those at ponies. Some pony could get hurt." Hatchling tossed aside their horns and shoved them back into the end of the alley. One of them died on impact, the other laid on the ground, all twisted and bent. The third pony lost his voice to fear, as expected. Liberated from their targets, the other cloak tendrils consumed the ringleader of the gangster. His cries muffled, and his struggle softened to nothing. Bang! Hatchling recoiled at the shock, looking down at his armor. A hole bore through the leather and chainmail, exposing the body. The body of hellfire and brimstone. As for all Hatchlings, he panicked as the fire took form. It erupted, gripping the pony through the cloak. The Hatchling watched as the body crumpled, turned to ash. The Hatchling didn't react. He slumped onto the ground, exhausted. Hard as a muthafucka, Hatchling. Prime stuff, really. Makes a demon like me love working for the boss. "Huh? Did I do this?" Went wild for a moment there, didntchya? Good. You weren't picked for Hell's army by being a pansy. "I don't understand what's going on. What was that sting just now?" A gun. Boy, you don't get out much, do ya? "Gun?" Aw, jeez, I almost forgot. You died about two decades ago, before everything started getting their grubby little hooves on those things. Real pieces of work they are, but they ain't hellfire, I'll tell ya that. "Why did he have to burn?" The demon tapped his chest. Right in the love organ Hatchling. Didn't feel to good, did it? The Hatchling shook his head. Well get used to it. Freaks like you get shot at wherever you go, and if you can't keep your uniform's power in check, you'll be in a sorry state when the battle comes. "Battle? What battle?" Lets take another step kid. So you're dead, you're Hell's personal executioner. So, with that in mind, who the fuck do you think you'll be fighting? The Hatchling didn't have an answer. The boss down below hates the ass hat running things up top. You get? The final battle, heaven and hell, the so-called end times, and you'll be at the center of it. "I don't want to-" He's the fucking devil. He doesn't give a shit about your needs and wants. Hatched from hell, that's what you are, a title an insignificant pony like you should be honored to have. You're one of the best there is. The top dogs, the heavy hitters, the knights in shining fucking armor. You killed a lot of people in your life Hatchling, and it's the one thing you've got going for ya. The demon reached out with a hoof. Fur, skin, and flesh peeled away. The Hatchling froze, gripped by the demon's bony claw tearing out of its mortal vessel. He spoke only in the mind. It cut the Hatchling's brain, sharp and painful. You're the kind the boss wants for his army, and he'll get what he wants. There's no stopping the devil, no fighting his power. If he tells you to kill, you kill. If he wants you to rape, you'll rape. If he even whispers into your ear that your ass needs a lesson, you had better bend over and take it. Hatchlings don't want, they don't think, they simply do. Get it? Now get off your ass Hatchling. You've got work to do. Enforcers"Damn street thugs." Detective Magnus said. "Chase 'em one day, find 'em dead the next." He looked down at one of the corpses, one of the unicorns with his horn snapped off. "Howler, you S.O.B., when I said I'd get you for that Colt Killer case, I never imagined it'd be like this." Another detective, his partner, walked up. "Sir, we picked up a witness across the street. She said all she saw was a lot of red, then the bodies were left on the floor." "No shit," he replied. "Three leaking blood bags and not a single hoof print to follow. I don't want scared civilians McCheese, get forensics off their asses and find me some real evidence." "They're already here sir." "Good." Magnus walked over to his car and stuffed his face with a doughnut. "Who could have done this? The mafia would rather take over the streets than clean 'em up." "Another gang sir? Maybe the Merry Pegs are making their move." McCheese reached for a doughnut. Magnus swatted his hoof away. "The Unis are undisputed around here. No way in hell it's the start of another turf war. Some kind of psychopath lurking the alleys, now that's my guess. But I want everything here turned up and on my desk by tomorrow morning at the latest. Hate being in the dark like this." "As do I sir. I'll see how the forensics teams is doing." =================================================== =================================================== "Why won't it come off?" Hatchling bit at his armor again. "It's like I'm being trapped in my own body!" He commanded his cloak to obey him, to tear his armor, and itself, to pieces. It writhed and wriggled up, gripping sections of thick leather and chainmail. The cloak retreated. It would not harm itself. Company property Hatchling. Ya know how things are. Those suits aren't cheap ya know, the boss invests quite a bit of power into each and every one. Those were the demon's last words. It hadn't spoken to him for three days, and for three days he hadn't stopped trying to escape. "You okay bro?" He turned to the voice. Not him again. "It's been a few days, and I don't think you've eaten. You should really get out of these alleys and get your life back." Hatchling snarled. "That, coming from a drunk like you? Thanks, but I'm fine without your advice." The drunkard stepped back, wise enough to give the Hatchling his space. There, he sat, he waited. He dosed off to sleep. That was where Hell resided. First came the fire, like scorching coals under his feet. No, not like, that's what they were. He wanted to flee, to escape, but he wasn't in control of his legs. He simply kept walking. Hatchling looked around. Most of the room was dark, the only light was the coals. He kept walking, looking forward, reaching his master. An assassin must ignore the worst pains. Anything less and you will have the same weaknesses as your targets, and you will lose power over them quickly. He struggled to open his mouth to ask what was happening, but he had no control over his words. Everything was set to play out. "Of course, Master Stoneheart. This is nothing." A sharp crack slashed his face. Do not be so quick to believe in your skills. There is such a thing as hubris. Nature is a powerful weapon, and a vicious killer. It's a tool we use to be unparalleled in what we do. We respect is power over all living things, and by doing so, we can only hope to tame it. Do not overestimate your abilities. The whip's slash barely stung. He was focused, unwilling to be broken. Is that so? Let's try something else then kid. Hatchling screamed, pulled back into the darkness. You're slow! The pain came freely now. His body flew across the sparring mat effortlessly. If she had told me their son was useless, on top of being a bastard, I would never have taken you in. Still, he felt determined. His feet moved to a familiar stance, planted firmly on the ground. Two strikes, two blocks. But he returned the attacks with a kick of his own, and found his face greeting the mat. Something tore in his shoulder. Even my worst students have mastered their acolyte training! If you want to be anything more than a street rat begging for pity, you better stop dicking around and fight like a stallion. His skin felt ready to tear under the pressure. His master pinned him to the ground, pushing his foreleg into an unnatural position. Hatchling grinded his teeth until he couldn't handle it anymore, and tapped out. The pressure disappeared and he laid limp on the floor. Nice one, tough guy. How about another? Hatchling reached out, grabbing the voice. He felt the demon hiding in the shadows, and he clenched his cloak around his neck. He was back on the streets, choking the demon right after killing the three unicorns. Hm... this wasn't how it all went down. Wanna see what you're doing wrong, Hatchling? The nightmare vanished. The drunkard grasped at Hatchling's cloak with his wings, but they were weak and malnourished, and could find not grip. The drunkard choked, windpipe slowly collapsing. The Hatchling barely understood what he was doing for a moment. Hatchling relaxed, freeing the drunk and dropping him on the ground. "Sorry to sneak up on you like that yo," the pony said, "but you were moaning and twisting around, I thought you were hurt or something." He turned away, ignoring the drunk. "Learn from this. Stay away." "We street folk don't have much, but we look after our own." He held out a crooked wing, inviting the Hatchling. The Hatchling didn't want to be invited. "Stay away from me." He got up from the trash and leaped up onto the walls and rooftops, his cloak following like a streak of blood. =================================================== =================================================== Canterlot, city of perfection. Quite nights, lively days, and enough gold and cash for each resident to bath in their wealth. It wasn't so perfect this night. "If Luna saw the dreams then we have to act!" Twilight slammed her hoof down on the table. "Please Celestia, it's finally my turn to face one of them!" "You'll do no such thing," Celestia told Twilight. She sat on her throne, regal as ever, looking over the other princesses to guide. "Sister, perhaps we could reconsider-" Celestia cut off her sister, unwavering in this matter. "Candence has the Crystal Empire's power behind her. The Crystal Heart's done wonders for her magic, she can face another this time." Luna stepped into her sister's tired gaze. "Cadence nearly died hunting the last Hatchling, and that was only a day after we located it. It's been three days already, and no pony knows how long until we find it this time." "Exactly why Twilight will not face the enemy." Princess Twilight wouldn't have her old mentor being overprotective. "I am the element of magic, Princess Celestia. If Cadence can gain power from her empire, then I have power from the Tree of Harmony itself." Celestia didn't relent. "You cannot go up against this kind of enemy Twilight. This is something beyond us, a power far more ancient than we realize." "Even so, if this thing is as bad as you all says it is, then I have a duty as a Princess of Equestria to stop it." Twilight revealed a folder from under her wing. "This is a report from the local police in Fillydelphia, the same town where Luna says the Hatchling appeared. Three ponies, all dead." "This has gone far enough Twilight. Luna's suspicions does not allow a senseless chase around Equestria!" "Sister!" Celestia shot a look at Luna, realizing how far her nerves had gotten to her. "The dreams aren't completely accurate, but Fillydelphia is definitely close to the creature. Furthermore, he seems to be regaining some memories through his dreams. If his strength is growing then he's already begun harvest, whether or not he knows it." Celestia sighed. She closed her eyes, letting go of her anxieties. "Twilight, there are old ruins under the city of Fillydelphia you can use, if you choose to go. It's from an ancient era, long before the three pony races even began to make their first pact. You'll find weapons in the temples that should be able to harm the Hatchling, and special charms to defend against his powers. You'll ultimately have to subdue him and purge his soul from this world. Bring him to us if you can, but the temples in the ruins should have the equipment to end him as well." Twilight nodded. "How do I get to these ruins?" "Just south of Fillydelphia lies the entrance." Celestia shone a light from her horn onto the world map in the center of the room. "Right there, in the valley between two shallow hills." "Thank you, Princess Celestia. I will put an end before this gets out of hoof." Twilight made her way out of the castle, but Celestia stopped her with one last ominous caution. "Twilight," Celestia spoke with great worry, "you should say your goodbyes to your friends. Just in case." GraveyardWhadaya running from, Hatchling? Scared of the dark alleys? "I'm not scared of anything, I'm just tired of having my peace disturbed." The Hatchling perched himself on the roof of the city's clocktower. He was a hunter, and like all Hatchlings before him, he had to know his hunting grounds. Hatchlings found comfort in the dark forgotten places of the world. Spat out from Hell, they weren't accepted anywhere. Well, if ya done moping around, you've got souls to harvest. "I don't work for you, demon. And I don't serve some kind of ultimate evil." Oh, Hatchy, Hatchy, Hatchy. Let's set this strait, okay? Now, I know you've been sitting in some backwater alley, weeping your sorry black heart out, but... The demon's skin peeled away completely. Its true shape, a twisted agglomeration of bone, reached out and grabbed the Hatchling by the armor. They stared, face to face. YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO THE DEVIL! The Hatchling shoved the demon back with his unnatural strength and sent the demon off the side. The demon laughed, plummeting into the shadows of the night. "Damn it all, what do I have to do to get some peace?" Whispers came to his ears. The Hatchling turned, looking off to the distance. Something beckoned him, something powerfully connected to him. =================================================== =================================================== Hell has many ways of reaching its subjects, giving them power. For the Hatchling, death was the most direct source of power he could use. But to tap it, Hell needed to make sure he was ready to accept the meaning of it. The Graveyard was wet that night, for a storm always followed the rise of a new Hatchling. Nature knew where the changes were happening, even if the pawns did not. "What is this place?" The Hatchling looked around, honing in on the whispers from the graves. He could hear the dead, restless in their coffins. Hundreds of soft voices cried out from the depths of Hell, while others, significantly fewer in number, whispered warnings from Heaven. But one voice thundered when the others moaned. "Don't tell me this is..." Hatchlings often reject the sight of their graves the first time they encounter it. This one was no different. Commanded by his will, his cloak reached out and wiped away the dead flowers and the dirt. "Naitre?" He looked further. Nothing forced his memory to return yet. "Naitre DeSang?" The memories, when awake, came as a trickling river at first. Savior... failure... why you? The Hatchling clutched his head, trying to press the memories out. These thoughts were far more personal, they walked in his mind from a life long past. So much... what cost? "No, I can't be dead! How did this happen?" Traitor, hidden... you... failed. The Hatchling did not like the truth, and barred the flow of the memories. But Hell did not want its warriors weak and docile, Hell wanted fury, rage, and confusion. The love... a ploy... He clutched his head harder, but the Hatchling did not suffocate himself. That was the cloak's doing. With the power of Hell throbbing behind it, it forced the voices into him, wrapping a black mask around his head to keep them close. He clawed at his face, but it did not work. His mind was swallowed whole by Hell's embrace. =================================================== =================================================== "Don't cry little one, he was never that close to you anyway. He was mine. He was the hive's savior." The Queen barred over the white mare kneeling by Hatchling. Again, he tried to scream out for salvation, but his actions were already set. He could only watch. "But it looks like he's another failure. I'd hate to burn this little place down, but none of you can live to tell this tale." The buzzing around the building grew louder, as flames poured through the walls. Their mentor shouted through the flames. "Ivory! Get him and the others out of here!" The stallion moved gracefully through the fire, killing each Changeling with a single movement. The mare didn't budge. "Ivory, this is an order, use the escape tunnels!" She remained weeping over Hatchling. He wanted to comfort her, tell her everything was okay, but the air was so hot and dry from the fire, and his throat was full of so much blood. There wasn't any time left for him. Their mentor levitated Ivory and sprinted down the hall, barreling down the stairs into an underground passage. The Hatchling tried to get up, tried to turn to the mare being carried off. The last thing he heard was her voice echoing through the roaring flames. It didn't have to be you! Why was it you? Why you? =================================================== =================================================== The Hatchling was ripped from his mind. "Hey mister, you okay?" the cemetery's groundskeeper called out to him from the entrance of the graveyard. "Never a moment of peace." The Hatchling growled, feeling the mask still wrapped around his face. It didn't come off; it was there to stay. Liar... he lies to all. No keeper... he steals us, from us... kill him. The graves spoke to the Hatchling. It was Hell's gift to him, to sense the anger of the souls who yearned for retribution in life, where they could not reach. They begged and commanded him, pleading to him to be their hand in the realm of the living. The cloak moved before the Hatchling could, constricting the groundskeeper's neck, dragging him through the mud toward the Hatchling. "Is this how you live your life, wronging both the living and the dead?" The old stallion stammered, frightful of the cloak's power. "Hey there, don't try anything crazy now, uh, sir. I'm just an old worker here-" Parting gifts... now his... punish him, be our savior... punish him... The voices channeled through the Hatchling's mask, growing louder. They could sense to coming tide. "This graveyard is not yours alone, and the dead are not gold mines for your selfish endeavors." The Hatchling, only grasping his new found powers, didn't realize the sights the cloak fed him. Red cloth wrapped around the old stallion's head, consuming memories of his sins. Wedding rings, heirlooms, simple golden broaches placed by dear friends, all stockpiled into a shack and pawned off for quick money. The Hatchling grunted, slamming his hoof into the stallion's face. "This graveyard is my graveyard. You will not defile it any longer." Tendrils of the red cloak gripped the groundskeeper's limbs, holding him high above the ground. Bones snapped from the pressure, pressing against the skin or completely jutting out. He screamed, with voice a shrill shriek drowned out by the coming rain. The Hatchling heard nothing but satisfied souls as he dropped the mangled corpse into the mud. He needed time to think. =================================================== =================================================== Twilight slid down the rocky entrance of the ancient ruins. Rocks pattered down and struck the stone roads, echoing across the cavern. "The weapons couldn't be a in field of poppies and sunflowers, could it?" she muttered, dusting herself off. "At least I might find some old inscribed tablets, or even some well preserved scrolls. She searched around, comparing the remains of artifacts to the pictures Celestia had reluctantly given her. "I don't even know what this one is," she said to herself. "A two pronged staff? A wrench?" While the weapons were rare and difficult to come across, the charms of defense were in an overabundance. It'd take hours to sort through all the charms to find the ones she needed. "Wish Spike was here. This would be so much easier with a helping hoof." EncounterGood job spawn. You're a real hard worker, ya know? Been just a couple days, but you really surprised me. Sixteen gangstas dead on your turf, and a fucking grave robber too. Old bastard should have shown respect to the spirits serving hell's agenda. "I killed them because they didn't deserve to live, not because I work for you, or your so-called devil. Those gangsters did nothing but shit on everything else around them, and that groundskeeper wasn't any better." The Hatchling turned his back away from the trashcan fire. Some of the alley rats took pity on him and left the thing burning, and he didn't care enough to dispose of it. Yeah, sure thing kid. You gotta do whatchya do. You're the one with the blood on his hooves. Just keep up the good work, ya? You're makin' me look like a real top notch handler to our boss. I might even get a promotion, maybe get a better fitting suit to wear. The Hatchling shuddered, though his massive cloak hid the movement even from the demon. The thought of the donkey's flesh as the demon's suit disgusted him. The demon didn't pay any mind, and walked off down the alley. Swears and curses about its condition echoed in the night. Fuckin' old piece of shit. Flabby skin, fat all around, and the damn thing's always too tight in the crotch... The Hatchling ignored it all. He still had to think about the fire. Not the trash. The fire that killed him, that took away the ponies he knew. He still couldn't remember any pony but a cruel master. Behind him, a feeble voice. "Uh, 'scuse me sir. Are you the one they call the Protector?" The Hatchling turned around to face the young colt. The colt had his sister with him. Twins. "What are you talking about?" The two flinched as the Hatchling snapped, but the brother didn't as frightened as he should have been. "The gangs, you've scared them from these alleys, right?" "Yes, and I suggest you take a page from their book and run." "Please," squeaked the sister. "Mom and pa got caught up in something with the gangs. If you don't help, there's going to be trouble." "That's not my problem little filly." The brother clenched his teeth. "But you fight the gangs! You're supposed to be brave!" The Hatchling glared at the colt, rising up from his hunch and standing at his full stature. He was not a small stallion. The Hatchling stood up. The Hatchling rose up. He climbed higher and higher, casting shadows across the entire alley. Even the fire seemed to shy away from his presence. The cloak supported his form in the air, suspending him in his horrible height. "Don't shake child," came an old voice from the shadows. "This fella's just a coward. No bravery, no monster, just a pesky lie. Run along now." The two foals nodded at the elderly figure and forced their knees to bend and their legs to run. They fled the alley, but more importantly, they fled the Hatchling. "Don't talk about ponies you don't know about old timer." The figure pointed his hoof at the Hatchling. "But I do know about you. You're the one who shuns the company of the only ponies that give a damn about you. You're the one who hides himself from the world, day and night, never eating or drinking, only killing. You were going to kill those two as well, weren't you?" "Kid scare easily." "You're a lost soul," the elder insisted. "No pony even knows your name." Naitre DeSang. The Hatchling didn't like it. The name felt familiar, but foreign, like he was only acquainted with the name, not in full possession of it. But if it would drive off the elder, he supposed he could come up with something. "Nate.The name's Nate. Now get lost." "Nate," the elderly stallion repeated. "not a name easy to remember. Commonplace, boring. Do you intend to fade away like your name, Nate?" "My plan is to sort out my life, something you have nothing to do with." The elder grunted, turning away. "Your life looks as if it's over Nate. Stop thinking it over and do something worth doing already." =================================================== =================================================== The Uni boss spat into his telephone. "What the fuck? Are you telling me some street rat shithead took out my six best fighters?" "I know it sounds fucked up, but there ain't no way I'm making this shit up." The mobster sounded panicked. "That... thing... tore them apart limb from limb. It was like nothing I've ever seen." "I don't give a damn if he's a soul sucking Changeling," the boss shouted. "Get your shit together and bring me the dick of the asshole who thinks he can fuck with me and get away with it!" The telephone ripped the wire out of the socket. He had slammed the phone down too hard. "Useless sons-of-bitches, can't catch one alley rat gone nuts," muttered the Uni boss. A body stirred in his bed. Not a cheap whore, this mare. Deceit filled her soul like hell itself, and the power her pen commanded made her the devil. "Looks like the big boy's got a job too much for a gun and a dick. Want little miss Iron Maiden to lend a hoof?" "You're out of of your damn mind if you think I'm payin' your rates." The boss pulled out his book. A list of the deadliest criminals in the city. Six names were crossed out. The mare crawled up onto the desk, wrapping her legs around the Uni boss. She glanced down at his book. "Right now you seem a bit insecure about your little asset right there. I like boys like that, so I'll cut you a deal." She lit her horn up and slid a paper into his coat pocket. "A discount. Any assassin you want, all on the low end of six figures." The Uni boss swallowed his protest as the mare nuzzled her body against his face. He didn't need to look at his book. Six of his stallions were dead, and no pony else could come close to their skill. He really was insecure, and he really did need her professionals. "Fine," he grunted. "But I ain't doing that 'gratitude' shit you pull with your other clients. I have my pride too." She pulled herself away from him, eyes hungry. "What makes you think you have a choice?" Her horn glowed with magic as belts and ropes slithered from the mare's suitcase, tying up the boss. "What the-?" She ran her tongue along his neck, nipping his ear. She whispered into his ear, barring her teeth with a predator grin. "Come now, I'm going through all this trouble to keep your little boy's club on its hooves. The least you could do is show a girl a little gratitude." The Uni boss closed his eyes, hoping that everything said about her on the black market was exaggerated. He clenched his jaw as she threw him on the bed, whirling a belt with her magic as she closed in, step by step. He dreaded the coming hours, even if it was worth the killer he'd get to hire. =================================================== =================================================== For ancient ruins, there's a surprising amount of information. Twilight sighed. She didn't know how long she'd been in the ruins, but she estimated two days at least. Half that time was spent assembling a proper set of charms and weapons for hunting Hatchlings, the other half was spent finding the right temple to purge the Hatchling, if it came down to that. Only one of the many temples she found had a surviving scroll to perform the spell. The incantations were simple. The hard part, Twilight assumed, was getting the Hatchling to stay put long enough to be destroyed. She didn't worry about it. She was determined to bring it to Celestia as proof that she could triumph against it. She felt she would have her quarry soon. Something stirred in the shadows. Vile and unnatural, it lingered. It crept. Slowly at first, but Twilight's ears twitched as it picked up its pace. She lifted two swords, both enchanted artifacts made to tear apart a Hatchling's armor. After that, magic would take care of the rest. "Put those down, you're going to hurt some pony if you're not careful." The voice made Twilight jump, but not because it was her target. Though, as far as she was concerned, it might as well be. "What are you doing here?" she asked, whirling around to face the Changeling Queen. Chrysalis eyed the sharp edge aimed at her throat. She smiled. "Well, looks like you've gotten a hang of the whole 'evil' thing. So quick to take a life, are we?" "Maybe it's just yours," Twilight growled. "Now tell me-" "Oh shut up," Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "I was getting to that." The Queen pushed the sword blades aside, pacing around the temple. "Believe it or not, your beloved Princess Celestia doesn't trust you completely. She sent me a secret message, practically begging me to keep you safe and deal with the Hatchling before you found it." "What? She wouldn't do that!" Twilight couldn't believe it. She was a Princess of Equestria, she expected Celestia to treat her like one. "I'm here, aren't I?" Chrysalis chuckled. "Anyways, I'm sure you have some friends to run around and play with, don't you?" "As if I'm letting you run wild in a city like Fillydelphia." Twilight lit her horn up as she charged it with magic. The Queen deflected the blast with her own power. She didn't retaliate. "Now now, you wouldn't want to tire yourself out before the Hatchling comes, would you? I honestly don't care if you want to get yourself killed, but I'm going to make sure this creature doesn't go any farther." She always had an agenda. "What's in it for you?" "Food, of course." The Queen thought it would have been the obvious answer to Twilight. "Love cannot spread to my kind if a being from the depths of Hell is walking around, terrorizing every filly who looks out their bedroom." "Fair enough, but I'm not letting you feed off of any pony just because you want to." Twilight collected the relevant equipment to harm the Hatchling. She packed it into her saddlebag and edged toward the back exit. Chrysalis didn't notice. Her mind focused on the needs of her kind. "Would you condemn an entire race to famine just for a little bit of love? We didn't ask to be like this, we just want nothing more than to survive!" Twilight turned for the exit, blasting the rafters in the temple as she left. The Queen buzzed her wings to take to the air, but stone and wood collapsed much faster. Twilight couldn't distinguish the sounds, but she was sure that between the crunching wood and cracking stone, there was a snapping of a neck or back. Nothing could survive being buried alive. Nothing natural, at least. Now she was hunting exactly the opposite: something unnatural. Something Luna and Cadence feared. Something Celestia couldn't trust her to do. Something a Changeling feared enough to intervene. =================================================== =================================================== Make it quick, the client's paying the discount. Reports say to look for a red cape of some kind in the alleys. Kill it and bring it back in one piece. Or many pieces, if the need arises, as long as the body's identifiable. Do not get carried away like last time. "A hundred and fifty grand to kill a street rat with a cape?" Incinerator spat onto the sidewalk, still damp from the earlier rain. "This the best job I could get? Fuck." At least he got the job at night. Things never burned the same in the day. The light always took away the spectacle. Only at night, when few things took his spotlight, did fires burn the way they should. It didn't take long to find a beggar to talk to. The incinerator had heard from his sources that he hunted some kind of "guardian" of the bums that prowled the alley. This one seemed to say other wise. "I swear, I only heard of him when I was diggin' for scraps in near The Hay Burger down the street! I didn't even know he was real!" The poor earth pony squirmed as the red thing poked deeper into his leg. "Tell me where he is." The Incinerator twisted. "Fuck! Ah fuck! I told you everything! Please, oh please please please, let me go." Another twist, another cry. The deeper the red thing went, the wetter the tears became. More heat would make him talk. More heat would make him scream the truth. More heat More heat More heat. The stallion slumped a little, his weight dragging his body down. The only things that stopped him were the red things stuck to his hooves. The Incinerator grumbled at the unconscious pony, burning the body to destroy the evidence. Some pony else had to know. Incinerator was never wrong, and he always got his information. =================================================== =================================================== Like music to my ears. Hear that bucko? Mmmmm, good shit right there. "You're sick." Hah! First funny Hatchling I've ever seen. Sick. Sick, sick, sick. Nah, I feel pretty healthy today. I can feel it, the adrenaline rushing through my dead veins, the fear in the eyes of these disgusting mortals. I can smell it. Hm, maybe it's the burning bodies. "I can hear their screams even after they die. Why won't they shut up?" Lost souls, kid. They're part of Hell now, and Hell wants revenge. That fucker thinks he can screw with the damned? Show him what we can do Hatchling! The Hatchling grunted. He hated being commanded, but he also wanted to stop the screaming. He couldn't think with a trail of fire cutting into his alleys. Just this once, he let his path and the demon's converge. He didn't have to get up from his trash pile. The cloak of the Hatchling felt his intent, gripping the top of the buildings and pulling him up. Haha! Showing some sense now, aintchya? That's right, listen to Uncle Demon for a change. Hoowee! This'll be a fun night. The Hatchling expected the voice to trail him, but it was clear the demon didn't use menial modes of travel. It never seemed to walk anywhere, only appearing from the shadows wherever it wanted. The fires were close. Smoldering bodies in every neighborhood, honing in on his own alleys. Fire carts everywhere poured water to douse the lights, but something told the Hatchling the arsonist was still on the streets. Another soul shrieked as its body turned into a crisp. The Hatchling didn't have to listen hard, he only needed to follow the trail of power left by the death. He heard the sound of a stallion sniveling for his life. "Get away! I saw what you did to my friends. If I knew anything I'd tell you!" The stallion tried to flap away, but his pegasi wings were helpless against the molten spikes the arsonist used to pin him to the brick wall. "I know you know. Now tell me!" As the arsonist shouted, he hammered another spike through the stallion's groin, stopping his struggling. He barely screamed before the arsonist rammed a metal bar into the pegasi's mouth. The edge burned bright as the arsonist held a blowtorch to it, slowly dragging the blue flame closer to the mouth. "I am looking for the red caped pony. Tell me where I can find him." The arsonist didn't take the bar out for the pegasi to answer. He creeped closer with his fire, already smoking some of the pegasi's mane. "Look behind you." The arsonist turned too late. A moment late, he was looking at a hole in the brick wall, just big enough for himself. The Hatchling's cloak flooded through the hole, wrapping around the arsonist's limbs and wrenching him back out into the alley. "Who sent you? Why are you looking for me?" The arsonist chuckled. "They call me Incinerator. I am going to kill you." The Hatchling eyed him, watching his pained movements. "You're a little late for that." "Don't tell me that's all you have going for you." Incinerator lobbed a molotov at the Hatchling's face. The fire did little, but the light blinded and burned. "Think you have nothing left to lose? How about some skin? I've been waiting months for a job and all I get is a backwater stain like you, so I'll be damned if I don't have some fun." He reached into his saddlebag, an armored haven for all fires. He drew his beloved, a flamethrower painted black, and attached a can of fuel. Like his life before, the Hatchling was plagued by fire. He did what he could not before, and fought to survive. The Hatchling rolled, whipping his cloak to fan off the flames. They licked the brick walls, hungering for trash to nip at and devour. First the trash, little scraps of newspaper and sandwich wrappings, then the rest of the garbage, and soon the fire had spread to the building itself, tearing at the inside for meager sustenance. The Hatchling launched himself at Incinerator, lifting him up with powerful strands of his cloak. But even they cried and smoked as the mercenary cut them away with his blowtorch. The blue fire, hot like the sun, shocked the Hatchling. If his powers were truly were from Hell, then it was a joke to bend to the heat of a simple tool. Incinerator drew a spike from his bag, heating it with the flame of his blowtorch. The red thing glowed in the night, flying for the Hatchling's chest. The first bounced off, and then the second. Caught off guard by the strength of the Hatchling's armor, Incinerator stumbled back. The Hatchling took his turn, letting his cloak whip the blowtorch away and shred the flamethrower into pieces. "No! She's mine!" Incinerator shouted as his weapon was torn from his hooves, spraying specks of burning fuel on his face as it broke. In his rage, he did not care for his disfigured face. The burning drops only fueled him more. Before the Hatchling could reach the saddlebag, Incinerator produced two grenades. They looked like bowling balls. "Thermite, you son-of-a-bitch!" They were covered in spikes and hooks, catching onto the Hatchling's cloak as he hurried to get it away. The armor reacted, and the cloak threw Incinerator back out of the alley as it tried to pry itself from the grenades. All the Incinerator had to do was laugh as the red caped creature was engulfed by a sun of molten metal. He didn't even scowl at the fact that nothing was left when the flames died. He had gone to far. He didn't care. "Fuck it. Iron Maiden can suck a dick and bitch about it later. Tonight was good fun."
HatchedThe moon shone bright in the sky, casting a long streak of light onto the streets. Things were barely visible. But he didn't find it so demanding on his eyes. No, the night felt like home. Don't let the sunshine and rainbows fool you kid, Equestria's not all it's cracked up to be. "Wha-" Shh... shh... boss wouldn't want you cracking that ole noggin of yours thinking to hard. Let's take it one step at a time, aight? "I...I don't know." For starters, you're dead. "Wait, what?" Mhm, as a doornob. Dead like that light bulb that never seems to last more than a month. Like that old granny across the street. Dead as that one band your parents always listened to when they whisked off to bed to make sweet, sweet lov- "I get the point." He paused. He rubbed his head and crawled off the ground. "Where the hell am I?" Ironic use a words there bucko. "Where." Jeez, really breaking out the cheery attitude, aintchya? Well, your not in hell, f'that's your first guess. "I'm dead, but I'm still in Equestria?" The demon sniffed the air. Place sure smells like a shit hole. Mortal piles of garbage everywhere. He looked around. An alleyway, a couple street lights, and a taxi driving by. Some kind of city perhaps. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Aw, you feel that tickle, dontchya? Get used to it, that's how we do it down in Hell, and the boss likes his telepathy. Makes work clean and efficient. I'm sure you know the mentality, being a murdering ass hole yourself and all. Oh, and yeah, we're in a city. "Wait, what did you say about me? What do you know?" What do you know? He pressed his hooves to his head, but nothing came. He shook the noise, the ringing, but nothing came. His head was empty. His thoughts were gone. Nothing, that's what. Take my advice and keep it like that bucko. Kids like you only make things harder with your mortal attachments. He recovered from his moment. He looked through the darkness at the figure. The voice in his head, it had to have a form. Take a good look. Take a picture if you want. It's swimsuit season after all. He recoiled back. Short, chubby, and unclean, the demon was about as good to look at as the garbage around them. Beard thick with grease, it looked like a rotund donkey, with black twisted horns sticking out the side of its head. The sight of it made him gag. Well fuck you too. Didn't ask for this body, but the boss had it leftover from last season, so here I am, in the flesh. "If that's who you are, then who am I? What's my name?" A bona fide killer. A one of a kind badass. He stared back, uncertain if the demon would ever be straightforward. I guess you're about as thick as that armor you're wearing. He looked down at his chest. Thick leather, with chains layered underneath. Look kid, you're name's not important. It's a thing, of nothing. You're a Hatchling now, and you'll only ever be a Hatchling from now on. Get it yet? "A Hatchling?" Hatched from Hell dumbass. Didn't get that from the demon right in your face? "Why am I here. I still don't know that." The demon chuckled. It pointed to the alley's entrance. You'll find out soon enough. But hey, you're back baby! Have some fun for a change, killjoy. Seeya in a few. "No, wait!" It was gone. The demon didn't leave, it didn't walk away, it was just gone. Hatchling turned around, looking for anything to see his own face. "This is crazy! Am I really dead? Why can't I remember anything?" Hoof steps pattered along, nearing the Hatchling. "Sounds like we've got ourselves a new guy in town," one of the gangsters said. Chains wrapped around his hooves. Two friends followed, with knives at their sides. Another one spoke. "Looks like a freakshow Pain, can we keep him?" "Now settle down Howler," the chained one spoke. "We ain't got the room back home for this guy. We'll have to do the right thing and put this stray to sleep." Hatchling stepped back. As a soldier of Hell, he had one instinct, and he could feel it. "Get back. Don't come any closer." The gangster took another step, and cracked his chain at the Hatchling. Kill. There wasn't a single thought left. There wasn't remorse either. Nature took over the Hatchling, and his only sense was violence. His cloak stretched and weaved around the gansters like a tide of red cloth. The red coiled around their necks. They choked on their own spit. One of the ponies began to glow at the head. A spell. A unicorn. Energy crackled and fire erupted. The cloak sought the heat, swallowing it whole. Hatchling only needed to watch. They were all unicorns. The two others shot too, shocking Hatchling with ice and lightning. The spells hit nothing. Hatchling dodged and gripped his hooves around two horns. Snap! "It's rude to point those at ponies. Some pony could get hurt." Hatchling tossed aside their horns and shoved them back into the end of the alley. One of them died on impact, the other laid on the ground, all twisted and bent. The third pony lost his voice to fear, as expected. Liberated from their targets, the other cloak tendrils consumed the ringleader of the gangster. His cries muffled, and his struggle softened to nothing. Bang! Hatchling recoiled at the shock, looking down at his armor. A hole bore through the leather and chainmail, exposing the body. The body of hellfire and brimstone. As for all Hatchlings, he panicked as the fire took form. It erupted, gripping the pony through the cloak. The Hatchling watched as the body crumpled, turned to ash. The Hatchling didn't react. He slumped onto the ground, exhausted. Hard as a muthafucka, Hatchling. Prime stuff, really. Makes a demon like me love working for the boss. "Huh? Did I do this?" Went wild for a moment there, didntchya? Good. You weren't picked for Hell's army by being a pansy. "I don't understand what's going on. What was that sting just now?" A gun. Boy, you don't get out much, do ya? "Gun?" Aw, jeez, I almost forgot. You died about two decades ago, before everything started getting their grubby little hooves on those things. Real pieces of work they are, but they ain't hellfire, I'll tell ya that. "Why did he have to burn?" The demon tapped his chest. Right in the love organ Hatchling. Didn't feel to good, did it? The Hatchling shook his head. Well get used to it. Freaks like you get shot at wherever you go, and if you can't keep your uniform's power in check, you'll be in a sorry state when the battle comes. "Battle? What battle?" Lets take another step kid. So you're dead, you're Hell's personal executioner. So, with that in mind, who the fuck do you think you'll be fighting? The Hatchling didn't have an answer. The boss down below hates the ass hat running things up top. You get? The final battle, heaven and hell, the so-called end times, and you'll be at the center of it. "I don't want to-" He's the fucking devil. He doesn't give a shit about your needs and wants. Hatched from hell, that's what you are, a title an insignificant pony like you should be honored to have. You're one of the best there is. The top dogs, the heavy hitters, the knights in shining fucking armor. You killed a lot of people in your life Hatchling, and it's the one thing you've got going for ya. The demon reached out with a hoof. Fur, skin, and flesh peeled away. The Hatchling froze, gripped by the demon's bony claw tearing out of its mortal vessel. He spoke only in the mind. It cut the Hatchling's brain, sharp and painful. You're the kind the boss wants for his army, and he'll get what he wants. There's no stopping the devil, no fighting his power. If he tells you to kill, you kill. If he wants you to rape, you'll rape. If he even whispers into your ear that your ass needs a lesson, you had better bend over and take it. Hatchlings don't want, they don't think, they simply do. Get it? Now get off your ass Hatchling. You've got work to do.
Enforcers"Damn street thugs." Detective Magnus said. "Chase 'em one day, find 'em dead the next." He looked down at one of the corpses, one of the unicorns with his horn snapped off. "Howler, you S.O.B., when I said I'd get you for that Colt Killer case, I never imagined it'd be like this." Another detective, his partner, walked up. "Sir, we picked up a witness across the street. She said all she saw was a lot of red, then the bodies were left on the floor." "No shit," he replied. "Three leaking blood bags and not a single hoof print to follow. I don't want scared civilians McCheese, get forensics off their asses and find me some real evidence." "They're already here sir." "Good." Magnus walked over to his car and stuffed his face with a doughnut. "Who could have done this? The mafia would rather take over the streets than clean 'em up." "Another gang sir? Maybe the Merry Pegs are making their move." McCheese reached for a doughnut. Magnus swatted his hoof away. "The Unis are undisputed around here. No way in hell it's the start of another turf war. Some kind of psychopath lurking the alleys, now that's my guess. But I want everything here turned up and on my desk by tomorrow morning at the latest. Hate being in the dark like this." "As do I sir. I'll see how the forensics teams is doing." =================================================== =================================================== "Why won't it come off?" Hatchling bit at his armor again. "It's like I'm being trapped in my own body!" He commanded his cloak to obey him, to tear his armor, and itself, to pieces. It writhed and wriggled up, gripping sections of thick leather and chainmail. The cloak retreated. It would not harm itself. Company property Hatchling. Ya know how things are. Those suits aren't cheap ya know, the boss invests quite a bit of power into each and every one. Those were the demon's last words. It hadn't spoken to him for three days, and for three days he hadn't stopped trying to escape. "You okay bro?" He turned to the voice. Not him again. "It's been a few days, and I don't think you've eaten. You should really get out of these alleys and get your life back." Hatchling snarled. "That, coming from a drunk like you? Thanks, but I'm fine without your advice." The drunkard stepped back, wise enough to give the Hatchling his space. There, he sat, he waited. He dosed off to sleep. That was where Hell resided. First came the fire, like scorching coals under his feet. No, not like, that's what they were. He wanted to flee, to escape, but he wasn't in control of his legs. He simply kept walking. Hatchling looked around. Most of the room was dark, the only light was the coals. He kept walking, looking forward, reaching his master. An assassin must ignore the worst pains. Anything less and you will have the same weaknesses as your targets, and you will lose power over them quickly. He struggled to open his mouth to ask what was happening, but he had no control over his words. Everything was set to play out. "Of course, Master Stoneheart. This is nothing." A sharp crack slashed his face. Do not be so quick to believe in your skills. There is such a thing as hubris. Nature is a powerful weapon, and a vicious killer. It's a tool we use to be unparalleled in what we do. We respect is power over all living things, and by doing so, we can only hope to tame it. Do not overestimate your abilities. The whip's slash barely stung. He was focused, unwilling to be broken. Is that so? Let's try something else then kid. Hatchling screamed, pulled back into the darkness. You're slow! The pain came freely now. His body flew across the sparring mat effortlessly. If she had told me their son was useless, on top of being a bastard, I would never have taken you in. Still, he felt determined. His feet moved to a familiar stance, planted firmly on the ground. Two strikes, two blocks. But he returned the attacks with a kick of his own, and found his face greeting the mat. Something tore in his shoulder. Even my worst students have mastered their acolyte training! If you want to be anything more than a street rat begging for pity, you better stop dicking around and fight like a stallion. His skin felt ready to tear under the pressure. His master pinned him to the ground, pushing his foreleg into an unnatural position. Hatchling grinded his teeth until he couldn't handle it anymore, and tapped out. The pressure disappeared and he laid limp on the floor. Nice one, tough guy. How about another? Hatchling reached out, grabbing the voice. He felt the demon hiding in the shadows, and he clenched his cloak around his neck. He was back on the streets, choking the demon right after killing the three unicorns. Hm... this wasn't how it all went down. Wanna see what you're doing wrong, Hatchling? The nightmare vanished. The drunkard grasped at Hatchling's cloak with his wings, but they were weak and malnourished, and could find not grip. The drunkard choked, windpipe slowly collapsing. The Hatchling barely understood what he was doing for a moment. Hatchling relaxed, freeing the drunk and dropping him on the ground. "Sorry to sneak up on you like that yo," the pony said, "but you were moaning and twisting around, I thought you were hurt or something." He turned away, ignoring the drunk. "Learn from this. Stay away." "We street folk don't have much, but we look after our own." He held out a crooked wing, inviting the Hatchling. The Hatchling didn't want to be invited. "Stay away from me." He got up from the trash and leaped up onto the walls and rooftops, his cloak following like a streak of blood. =================================================== =================================================== Canterlot, city of perfection. Quite nights, lively days, and enough gold and cash for each resident to bath in their wealth. It wasn't so perfect this night. "If Luna saw the dreams then we have to act!" Twilight slammed her hoof down on the table. "Please Celestia, it's finally my turn to face one of them!" "You'll do no such thing," Celestia told Twilight. She sat on her throne, regal as ever, looking over the other princesses to guide. "Sister, perhaps we could reconsider-" Celestia cut off her sister, unwavering in this matter. "Candence has the Crystal Empire's power behind her. The Crystal Heart's done wonders for her magic, she can face another this time." Luna stepped into her sister's tired gaze. "Cadence nearly died hunting the last Hatchling, and that was only a day after we located it. It's been three days already, and no pony knows how long until we find it this time." "Exactly why Twilight will not face the enemy." Princess Twilight wouldn't have her old mentor being overprotective. "I am the element of magic, Princess Celestia. If Cadence can gain power from her empire, then I have power from the Tree of Harmony itself." Celestia didn't relent. "You cannot go up against this kind of enemy Twilight. This is something beyond us, a power far more ancient than we realize." "Even so, if this thing is as bad as you all says it is, then I have a duty as a Princess of Equestria to stop it." Twilight revealed a folder from under her wing. "This is a report from the local police in Fillydelphia, the same town where Luna says the Hatchling appeared. Three ponies, all dead." "This has gone far enough Twilight. Luna's suspicions does not allow a senseless chase around Equestria!" "Sister!" Celestia shot a look at Luna, realizing how far her nerves had gotten to her. "The dreams aren't completely accurate, but Fillydelphia is definitely close to the creature. Furthermore, he seems to be regaining some memories through his dreams. If his strength is growing then he's already begun harvest, whether or not he knows it." Celestia sighed. She closed her eyes, letting go of her anxieties. "Twilight, there are old ruins under the city of Fillydelphia you can use, if you choose to go. It's from an ancient era, long before the three pony races even began to make their first pact. You'll find weapons in the temples that should be able to harm the Hatchling, and special charms to defend against his powers. You'll ultimately have to subdue him and purge his soul from this world. Bring him to us if you can, but the temples in the ruins should have the equipment to end him as well." Twilight nodded. "How do I get to these ruins?" "Just south of Fillydelphia lies the entrance." Celestia shone a light from her horn onto the world map in the center of the room. "Right there, in the valley between two shallow hills." "Thank you, Princess Celestia. I will put an end before this gets out of hoof." Twilight made her way out of the castle, but Celestia stopped her with one last ominous caution. "Twilight," Celestia spoke with great worry, "you should say your goodbyes to your friends. Just in case."
GraveyardWhadaya running from, Hatchling? Scared of the dark alleys? "I'm not scared of anything, I'm just tired of having my peace disturbed." The Hatchling perched himself on the roof of the city's clocktower. He was a hunter, and like all Hatchlings before him, he had to know his hunting grounds. Hatchlings found comfort in the dark forgotten places of the world. Spat out from Hell, they weren't accepted anywhere. Well, if ya done moping around, you've got souls to harvest. "I don't work for you, demon. And I don't serve some kind of ultimate evil." Oh, Hatchy, Hatchy, Hatchy. Let's set this strait, okay? Now, I know you've been sitting in some backwater alley, weeping your sorry black heart out, but... The demon's skin peeled away completely. Its true shape, a twisted agglomeration of bone, reached out and grabbed the Hatchling by the armor. They stared, face to face. YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO THE DEVIL! The Hatchling shoved the demon back with his unnatural strength and sent the demon off the side. The demon laughed, plummeting into the shadows of the night. "Damn it all, what do I have to do to get some peace?" Whispers came to his ears. The Hatchling turned, looking off to the distance. Something beckoned him, something powerfully connected to him. =================================================== =================================================== Hell has many ways of reaching its subjects, giving them power. For the Hatchling, death was the most direct source of power he could use. But to tap it, Hell needed to make sure he was ready to accept the meaning of it. The Graveyard was wet that night, for a storm always followed the rise of a new Hatchling. Nature knew where the changes were happening, even if the pawns did not. "What is this place?" The Hatchling looked around, honing in on the whispers from the graves. He could hear the dead, restless in their coffins. Hundreds of soft voices cried out from the depths of Hell, while others, significantly fewer in number, whispered warnings from Heaven. But one voice thundered when the others moaned. "Don't tell me this is..." Hatchlings often reject the sight of their graves the first time they encounter it. This one was no different. Commanded by his will, his cloak reached out and wiped away the dead flowers and the dirt. "Naitre?" He looked further. Nothing forced his memory to return yet. "Naitre DeSang?" The memories, when awake, came as a trickling river at first. Savior... failure... why you? The Hatchling clutched his head, trying to press the memories out. These thoughts were far more personal, they walked in his mind from a life long past. So much... what cost? "No, I can't be dead! How did this happen?" Traitor, hidden... you... failed. The Hatchling did not like the truth, and barred the flow of the memories. But Hell did not want its warriors weak and docile, Hell wanted fury, rage, and confusion. The love... a ploy... He clutched his head harder, but the Hatchling did not suffocate himself. That was the cloak's doing. With the power of Hell throbbing behind it, it forced the voices into him, wrapping a black mask around his head to keep them close. He clawed at his face, but it did not work. His mind was swallowed whole by Hell's embrace. =================================================== =================================================== "Don't cry little one, he was never that close to you anyway. He was mine. He was the hive's savior." The Queen barred over the white mare kneeling by Hatchling. Again, he tried to scream out for salvation, but his actions were already set. He could only watch. "But it looks like he's another failure. I'd hate to burn this little place down, but none of you can live to tell this tale." The buzzing around the building grew louder, as flames poured through the walls. Their mentor shouted through the flames. "Ivory! Get him and the others out of here!" The stallion moved gracefully through the fire, killing each Changeling with a single movement. The mare didn't budge. "Ivory, this is an order, use the escape tunnels!" She remained weeping over Hatchling. He wanted to comfort her, tell her everything was okay, but the air was so hot and dry from the fire, and his throat was full of so much blood. There wasn't any time left for him. Their mentor levitated Ivory and sprinted down the hall, barreling down the stairs into an underground passage. The Hatchling tried to get up, tried to turn to the mare being carried off. The last thing he heard was her voice echoing through the roaring flames. It didn't have to be you! Why was it you? Why you? =================================================== =================================================== The Hatchling was ripped from his mind. "Hey mister, you okay?" the cemetery's groundskeeper called out to him from the entrance of the graveyard. "Never a moment of peace." The Hatchling growled, feeling the mask still wrapped around his face. It didn't come off; it was there to stay. Liar... he lies to all. No keeper... he steals us, from us... kill him. The graves spoke to the Hatchling. It was Hell's gift to him, to sense the anger of the souls who yearned for retribution in life, where they could not reach. They begged and commanded him, pleading to him to be their hand in the realm of the living. The cloak moved before the Hatchling could, constricting the groundskeeper's neck, dragging him through the mud toward the Hatchling. "Is this how you live your life, wronging both the living and the dead?" The old stallion stammered, frightful of the cloak's power. "Hey there, don't try anything crazy now, uh, sir. I'm just an old worker here-" Parting gifts... now his... punish him, be our savior... punish him... The voices channeled through the Hatchling's mask, growing louder. They could sense to coming tide. "This graveyard is not yours alone, and the dead are not gold mines for your selfish endeavors." The Hatchling, only grasping his new found powers, didn't realize the sights the cloak fed him. Red cloth wrapped around the old stallion's head, consuming memories of his sins. Wedding rings, heirlooms, simple golden broaches placed by dear friends, all stockpiled into a shack and pawned off for quick money. The Hatchling grunted, slamming his hoof into the stallion's face. "This graveyard is my graveyard. You will not defile it any longer." Tendrils of the red cloak gripped the groundskeeper's limbs, holding him high above the ground. Bones snapped from the pressure, pressing against the skin or completely jutting out. He screamed, with voice a shrill shriek drowned out by the coming rain. The Hatchling heard nothing but satisfied souls as he dropped the mangled corpse into the mud. He needed time to think. =================================================== =================================================== Twilight slid down the rocky entrance of the ancient ruins. Rocks pattered down and struck the stone roads, echoing across the cavern. "The weapons couldn't be a in field of poppies and sunflowers, could it?" she muttered, dusting herself off. "At least I might find some old inscribed tablets, or even some well preserved scrolls. She searched around, comparing the remains of artifacts to the pictures Celestia had reluctantly given her. "I don't even know what this one is," she said to herself. "A two pronged staff? A wrench?" While the weapons were rare and difficult to come across, the charms of defense were in an overabundance. It'd take hours to sort through all the charms to find the ones she needed. "Wish Spike was here. This would be so much easier with a helping hoof."
EncounterGood job spawn. You're a real hard worker, ya know? Been just a couple days, but you really surprised me. Sixteen gangstas dead on your turf, and a fucking grave robber too. Old bastard should have shown respect to the spirits serving hell's agenda. "I killed them because they didn't deserve to live, not because I work for you, or your so-called devil. Those gangsters did nothing but shit on everything else around them, and that groundskeeper wasn't any better." The Hatchling turned his back away from the trashcan fire. Some of the alley rats took pity on him and left the thing burning, and he didn't care enough to dispose of it. Yeah, sure thing kid. You gotta do whatchya do. You're the one with the blood on his hooves. Just keep up the good work, ya? You're makin' me look like a real top notch handler to our boss. I might even get a promotion, maybe get a better fitting suit to wear. The Hatchling shuddered, though his massive cloak hid the movement even from the demon. The thought of the donkey's flesh as the demon's suit disgusted him. The demon didn't pay any mind, and walked off down the alley. Swears and curses about its condition echoed in the night. Fuckin' old piece of shit. Flabby skin, fat all around, and the damn thing's always too tight in the crotch... The Hatchling ignored it all. He still had to think about the fire. Not the trash. The fire that killed him, that took away the ponies he knew. He still couldn't remember any pony but a cruel master. Behind him, a feeble voice. "Uh, 'scuse me sir. Are you the one they call the Protector?" The Hatchling turned around to face the young colt. The colt had his sister with him. Twins. "What are you talking about?" The two flinched as the Hatchling snapped, but the brother didn't as frightened as he should have been. "The gangs, you've scared them from these alleys, right?" "Yes, and I suggest you take a page from their book and run." "Please," squeaked the sister. "Mom and pa got caught up in something with the gangs. If you don't help, there's going to be trouble." "That's not my problem little filly." The brother clenched his teeth. "But you fight the gangs! You're supposed to be brave!" The Hatchling glared at the colt, rising up from his hunch and standing at his full stature. He was not a small stallion. The Hatchling stood up. The Hatchling rose up. He climbed higher and higher, casting shadows across the entire alley. Even the fire seemed to shy away from his presence. The cloak supported his form in the air, suspending him in his horrible height. "Don't shake child," came an old voice from the shadows. "This fella's just a coward. No bravery, no monster, just a pesky lie. Run along now." The two foals nodded at the elderly figure and forced their knees to bend and their legs to run. They fled the alley, but more importantly, they fled the Hatchling. "Don't talk about ponies you don't know about old timer." The figure pointed his hoof at the Hatchling. "But I do know about you. You're the one who shuns the company of the only ponies that give a damn about you. You're the one who hides himself from the world, day and night, never eating or drinking, only killing. You were going to kill those two as well, weren't you?" "Kid scare easily." "You're a lost soul," the elder insisted. "No pony even knows your name." Naitre DeSang. The Hatchling didn't like it. The name felt familiar, but foreign, like he was only acquainted with the name, not in full possession of it. But if it would drive off the elder, he supposed he could come up with something. "Nate.The name's Nate. Now get lost." "Nate," the elderly stallion repeated. "not a name easy to remember. Commonplace, boring. Do you intend to fade away like your name, Nate?" "My plan is to sort out my life, something you have nothing to do with." The elder grunted, turning away. "Your life looks as if it's over Nate. Stop thinking it over and do something worth doing already." =================================================== =================================================== The Uni boss spat into his telephone. "What the fuck? Are you telling me some street rat shithead took out my six best fighters?" "I know it sounds fucked up, but there ain't no way I'm making this shit up." The mobster sounded panicked. "That... thing... tore them apart limb from limb. It was like nothing I've ever seen." "I don't give a damn if he's a soul sucking Changeling," the boss shouted. "Get your shit together and bring me the dick of the asshole who thinks he can fuck with me and get away with it!" The telephone ripped the wire out of the socket. He had slammed the phone down too hard. "Useless sons-of-bitches, can't catch one alley rat gone nuts," muttered the Uni boss. A body stirred in his bed. Not a cheap whore, this mare. Deceit filled her soul like hell itself, and the power her pen commanded made her the devil. "Looks like the big boy's got a job too much for a gun and a dick. Want little miss Iron Maiden to lend a hoof?" "You're out of of your damn mind if you think I'm payin' your rates." The boss pulled out his book. A list of the deadliest criminals in the city. Six names were crossed out. The mare crawled up onto the desk, wrapping her legs around the Uni boss. She glanced down at his book. "Right now you seem a bit insecure about your little asset right there. I like boys like that, so I'll cut you a deal." She lit her horn up and slid a paper into his coat pocket. "A discount. Any assassin you want, all on the low end of six figures." The Uni boss swallowed his protest as the mare nuzzled her body against his face. He didn't need to look at his book. Six of his stallions were dead, and no pony else could come close to their skill. He really was insecure, and he really did need her professionals. "Fine," he grunted. "But I ain't doing that 'gratitude' shit you pull with your other clients. I have my pride too." She pulled herself away from him, eyes hungry. "What makes you think you have a choice?" Her horn glowed with magic as belts and ropes slithered from the mare's suitcase, tying up the boss. "What the-?" She ran her tongue along his neck, nipping his ear. She whispered into his ear, barring her teeth with a predator grin. "Come now, I'm going through all this trouble to keep your little boy's club on its hooves. The least you could do is show a girl a little gratitude." The Uni boss closed his eyes, hoping that everything said about her on the black market was exaggerated. He clenched his jaw as she threw him on the bed, whirling a belt with her magic as she closed in, step by step. He dreaded the coming hours, even if it was worth the killer he'd get to hire. =================================================== =================================================== For ancient ruins, there's a surprising amount of information. Twilight sighed. She didn't know how long she'd been in the ruins, but she estimated two days at least. Half that time was spent assembling a proper set of charms and weapons for hunting Hatchlings, the other half was spent finding the right temple to purge the Hatchling, if it came down to that. Only one of the many temples she found had a surviving scroll to perform the spell. The incantations were simple. The hard part, Twilight assumed, was getting the Hatchling to stay put long enough to be destroyed. She didn't worry about it. She was determined to bring it to Celestia as proof that she could triumph against it. She felt she would have her quarry soon. Something stirred in the shadows. Vile and unnatural, it lingered. It crept. Slowly at first, but Twilight's ears twitched as it picked up its pace. She lifted two swords, both enchanted artifacts made to tear apart a Hatchling's armor. After that, magic would take care of the rest. "Put those down, you're going to hurt some pony if you're not careful." The voice made Twilight jump, but not because it was her target. Though, as far as she was concerned, it might as well be. "What are you doing here?" she asked, whirling around to face the Changeling Queen. Chrysalis eyed the sharp edge aimed at her throat. She smiled. "Well, looks like you've gotten a hang of the whole 'evil' thing. So quick to take a life, are we?" "Maybe it's just yours," Twilight growled. "Now tell me-" "Oh shut up," Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "I was getting to that." The Queen pushed the sword blades aside, pacing around the temple. "Believe it or not, your beloved Princess Celestia doesn't trust you completely. She sent me a secret message, practically begging me to keep you safe and deal with the Hatchling before you found it." "What? She wouldn't do that!" Twilight couldn't believe it. She was a Princess of Equestria, she expected Celestia to treat her like one. "I'm here, aren't I?" Chrysalis chuckled. "Anyways, I'm sure you have some friends to run around and play with, don't you?" "As if I'm letting you run wild in a city like Fillydelphia." Twilight lit her horn up as she charged it with magic. The Queen deflected the blast with her own power. She didn't retaliate. "Now now, you wouldn't want to tire yourself out before the Hatchling comes, would you? I honestly don't care if you want to get yourself killed, but I'm going to make sure this creature doesn't go any farther." She always had an agenda. "What's in it for you?" "Food, of course." The Queen thought it would have been the obvious answer to Twilight. "Love cannot spread to my kind if a being from the depths of Hell is walking around, terrorizing every filly who looks out their bedroom." "Fair enough, but I'm not letting you feed off of any pony just because you want to." Twilight collected the relevant equipment to harm the Hatchling. She packed it into her saddlebag and edged toward the back exit. Chrysalis didn't notice. Her mind focused on the needs of her kind. "Would you condemn an entire race to famine just for a little bit of love? We didn't ask to be like this, we just want nothing more than to survive!" Twilight turned for the exit, blasting the rafters in the temple as she left. The Queen buzzed her wings to take to the air, but stone and wood collapsed much faster. Twilight couldn't distinguish the sounds, but she was sure that between the crunching wood and cracking stone, there was a snapping of a neck or back. Nothing could survive being buried alive. Nothing natural, at least. Now she was hunting exactly the opposite: something unnatural. Something Luna and Cadence feared. Something Celestia couldn't trust her to do. Something a Changeling feared enough to intervene. =================================================== =================================================== Make it quick, the client's paying the discount. Reports say to look for a red cape of some kind in the alleys. Kill it and bring it back in one piece. Or many pieces, if the need arises, as long as the body's identifiable. Do not get carried away like last time. "A hundred and fifty grand to kill a street rat with a cape?" Incinerator spat onto the sidewalk, still damp from the earlier rain. "This the best job I could get? Fuck." At least he got the job at night. Things never burned the same in the day. The light always took away the spectacle. Only at night, when few things took his spotlight, did fires burn the way they should. It didn't take long to find a beggar to talk to. The incinerator had heard from his sources that he hunted some kind of "guardian" of the bums that prowled the alley. This one seemed to say other wise. "I swear, I only heard of him when I was diggin' for scraps in near The Hay Burger down the street! I didn't even know he was real!" The poor earth pony squirmed as the red thing poked deeper into his leg. "Tell me where he is." The Incinerator twisted. "Fuck! Ah fuck! I told you everything! Please, oh please please please, let me go." Another twist, another cry. The deeper the red thing went, the wetter the tears became. More heat would make him talk. More heat would make him scream the truth. More heat More heat More heat. The stallion slumped a little, his weight dragging his body down. The only things that stopped him were the red things stuck to his hooves. The Incinerator grumbled at the unconscious pony, burning the body to destroy the evidence. Some pony else had to know. Incinerator was never wrong, and he always got his information. =================================================== =================================================== Like music to my ears. Hear that bucko? Mmmmm, good shit right there. "You're sick." Hah! First funny Hatchling I've ever seen. Sick. Sick, sick, sick. Nah, I feel pretty healthy today. I can feel it, the adrenaline rushing through my dead veins, the fear in the eyes of these disgusting mortals. I can smell it. Hm, maybe it's the burning bodies. "I can hear their screams even after they die. Why won't they shut up?" Lost souls, kid. They're part of Hell now, and Hell wants revenge. That fucker thinks he can screw with the damned? Show him what we can do Hatchling! The Hatchling grunted. He hated being commanded, but he also wanted to stop the screaming. He couldn't think with a trail of fire cutting into his alleys. Just this once, he let his path and the demon's converge. He didn't have to get up from his trash pile. The cloak of the Hatchling felt his intent, gripping the top of the buildings and pulling him up. Haha! Showing some sense now, aintchya? That's right, listen to Uncle Demon for a change. Hoowee! This'll be a fun night. The Hatchling expected the voice to trail him, but it was clear the demon didn't use menial modes of travel. It never seemed to walk anywhere, only appearing from the shadows wherever it wanted. The fires were close. Smoldering bodies in every neighborhood, honing in on his own alleys. Fire carts everywhere poured water to douse the lights, but something told the Hatchling the arsonist was still on the streets. Another soul shrieked as its body turned into a crisp. The Hatchling didn't have to listen hard, he only needed to follow the trail of power left by the death. He heard the sound of a stallion sniveling for his life. "Get away! I saw what you did to my friends. If I knew anything I'd tell you!" The stallion tried to flap away, but his pegasi wings were helpless against the molten spikes the arsonist used to pin him to the brick wall. "I know you know. Now tell me!" As the arsonist shouted, he hammered another spike through the stallion's groin, stopping his struggling. He barely screamed before the arsonist rammed a metal bar into the pegasi's mouth. The edge burned bright as the arsonist held a blowtorch to it, slowly dragging the blue flame closer to the mouth. "I am looking for the red caped pony. Tell me where I can find him." The arsonist didn't take the bar out for the pegasi to answer. He creeped closer with his fire, already smoking some of the pegasi's mane. "Look behind you." The arsonist turned too late. A moment late, he was looking at a hole in the brick wall, just big enough for himself. The Hatchling's cloak flooded through the hole, wrapping around the arsonist's limbs and wrenching him back out into the alley. "Who sent you? Why are you looking for me?" The arsonist chuckled. "They call me Incinerator. I am going to kill you." The Hatchling eyed him, watching his pained movements. "You're a little late for that." "Don't tell me that's all you have going for you." Incinerator lobbed a molotov at the Hatchling's face. The fire did little, but the light blinded and burned. "Think you have nothing left to lose? How about some skin? I've been waiting months for a job and all I get is a backwater stain like you, so I'll be damned if I don't have some fun." He reached into his saddlebag, an armored haven for all fires. He drew his beloved, a flamethrower painted black, and attached a can of fuel. Like his life before, the Hatchling was plagued by fire. He did what he could not before, and fought to survive. The Hatchling rolled, whipping his cloak to fan off the flames. They licked the brick walls, hungering for trash to nip at and devour. First the trash, little scraps of newspaper and sandwich wrappings, then the rest of the garbage, and soon the fire had spread to the building itself, tearing at the inside for meager sustenance. The Hatchling launched himself at Incinerator, lifting him up with powerful strands of his cloak. But even they cried and smoked as the mercenary cut them away with his blowtorch. The blue fire, hot like the sun, shocked the Hatchling. If his powers were truly were from Hell, then it was a joke to bend to the heat of a simple tool. Incinerator drew a spike from his bag, heating it with the flame of his blowtorch. The red thing glowed in the night, flying for the Hatchling's chest. The first bounced off, and then the second. Caught off guard by the strength of the Hatchling's armor, Incinerator stumbled back. The Hatchling took his turn, letting his cloak whip the blowtorch away and shred the flamethrower into pieces. "No! She's mine!" Incinerator shouted as his weapon was torn from his hooves, spraying specks of burning fuel on his face as it broke. In his rage, he did not care for his disfigured face. The burning drops only fueled him more. Before the Hatchling could reach the saddlebag, Incinerator produced two grenades. They looked like bowling balls. "Thermite, you son-of-a-bitch!" They were covered in spikes and hooks, catching onto the Hatchling's cloak as he hurried to get it away. The armor reacted, and the cloak threw Incinerator back out of the alley as it tried to pry itself from the grenades. All the Incinerator had to do was laugh as the red caped creature was engulfed by a sun of molten metal. He didn't even scowl at the fact that nothing was left when the flames died. He had gone to far. He didn't care. "Fuck it. Iron Maiden can suck a dick and bitch about it later. Tonight was good fun."
