Hatched

Good 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."

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."