Candy Vengeance

13 Days until Nightmare Night

Mimic, a black earth pony mare with a shaggy black mane and tail jolted awake, heaving breaths forcing their way out of her mouth. Sweat poured down her face; stinging her eyes and leaving a salty taste on her tongue. She rubbed a hand down her face.

That was the first dream she had all year. It could only mean one thing.

She quickly pushed back the covers and ran out of the room as fast as her hooves could carry her. When she made it to the front door of her small apartment, she focused across the room . . . and pushed. A desk drawer opened and a 9mm gun floated up into the air. It flew across the room and into her hand; her grip closing around the trigger.

Taking a deep, she counted to three and yanked open the door. She held the gun out in front of her as she looked into the hallway. It was empty, save for the folded newspaper on the floor. She looked around again before bending over and picking up the paper. She checked once more and then retreated into the apartment; locking the door behind her.

She stood still for a moment; the paper clutched in her hands. She unfolded it and read the headline. It read: Torn Apart Bodies Found in Downtown Manehatten. She shuddered. That confirmed her fears. She looked up at the clock. 09:34 Am. Breakfast time.

She walked into the kitchen as the gun floated back into its original spot. She got a bowl out of the cupboard, cereal from the pantry, and milk from the refrigerator. She sat the items on the kitchen table and started to prepare the small meal. She then realized that she had forgotten a spoon. She turned toward the kitchen counter by the sink and pushed outward. A drawer opened and a spoon floated out and into Mimic’s waiting hand.

She began to eat, the crunch-crunch of the cereal breaking the silence. She thought about the newspaper again.

It was happening again. It always happened this time of year.

For as long as she could remember, Nightmare Night was something she enjoyed. Homes and businesses dressed in spooky decorations. Children dressed up in costumes and going out for trick-r-treating. Manehattenees partying all night in the streets. The evening was supposed to be a fun time. That was until the murders began.

Every year, around Nightmare Night, a series of murders would happen. It would begin two weeks before the holiday and occurred in different places. At first, it would seem that the murderer was a vigilante; only targeting known gangs and criminals. The theory was thrown out the window when the innocent victims who was attacked by said criminals were found dead as well.

Nopony really knew anything about the murderer. The only evidence left behind were bits and pieces of candy that was found on the bodies . . . or rather inside the bodies. Some think the suspect had a thing for candy so it was their calling card. Some think that the suspect left candy because it was Nightmare Night, and Nightmare Night was a time for sugary snacks and treats. Others - a minority - thought that a grotesque bloodthirsty monster, made entirely out sweets, roamed the streets and ate everything in its path; whether its candy corn or raw flesh.

But that was ludicrous. There was no such creature. It was just some crazy lunatic who had a sick sense of humor. Of course, that was what they said about Discord, Nightmare Moon, and of course, humans.

All Mimic knew was that he was back and she hoped and prayed that he didn’t find her. She spent too many years hiding who she really was.

† † †

“Is that it?”

An alicorn mare looked down at the dead body before her. The body was sprawled across the ground; wearing a torn, blood-soaked red dress. It seemed to be female but they weren’t really sure.

Most of its face was missing and so was one of its legs. Its stomach and chest were gone as well; looking like some kind of animal had been gnawing at it hungrily. What made it even more disturbing were the bits and pieces of candy corn and candy cane that floated in the mess.

Yep, it definitely looked like the work of a sick twisted cannibal.

“Okay,” she said to the earth pony stallion who was kneeling beside the body. “Bag it and pack it up.”

She moved out of the way so the “cleaning” people could do their job. She walked out of the alleyway; the dead body not completely out of her mind. That wasn’t the only one they found.

They also found the messed-up bodies of four pony stallions. One was torn in half – from the waist. One was missing a head and one’s head was smashed to mush. The last one had its stomach ripped open. All of them had bits of candy left on them.

It was definitely the work of the “Candy” murderer.

When she made it to the street, a bunch of policemen were still roaming about. They were trying to keep the large crowd of reporters and civilians under control. She pushed her glasses back on her nose as she rolled her eyes.

Reporters, she thought to herself. They could smell a story from a mile away.

She walked up to a human policeman standing by an unmarked car. He wasn’t in uniform, just regular clothes with a gun hidden under his jacket.  “So?” he asked.

She stopped in front of him. And nodded silently. “Yep, he’s back.”

The man shook his head. “I don’t get it!” he muttered so only she could hear. “He stays low all year, only to strike around Nightmare Night? It doesn’t make any sense.”

The mare patted his shoulder. “It’s been this way for two years, sugar. You know that.”

“Yeah but that’s the thing.” He opened the passenger door of the car. “How does he stay under the radar all this time? Hide under a rock?”

She slid into the car; the door closing behind her. He was right. When they tried hunting the killer down during the year, they ended up with zilch. And then the killer showed out of nowhere around Nightmare Night. How does he do it?

The man slid into the driver’s seat; door closing. “So what do we do now?”

She looked at him. “We need to find him before Nightmare Night. ‘Cause that’s when the real carnage will start.” And then they drove away.

† † †

After breakfast, Mimic went and took a shower. No matter how hard she scrubbed, however, remnants of the dream were still there. She got out of the shower after ten minutes and then started to put her clothes on; a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a black hoodie.

She brushed her teeth, got her keys, and headed out the door but not before she had her wool cap float into her open hand. Nopony knew about her powers. She liked to keep it that way.

As she walked down the hall to the stairs, she made sure to walk quietly so she wouldn’t wake the landlord. She then walked down to the first floor and out of the building.

It was warm day; Celestia’s sun shining bright. She walked down the street to the bus stop; keeping her head down and avoided eye contact. A group of people was already there when she made it to her destination. They were all talking about the murders.

The city bus appeared and stopped in front of them. Mimic paid her fee and took a seat in the back by a window. Then the bus moved on its way. As she looked at the passing scenery, she couldn’t help but listen to the conversation between a Pegasus mare and male Gryphon who both sat in front of her.

It wasn’t really a surprise when she heard they were discussing who the murderer might be.

“I’m telling you, it’s true!” the Gryphon said, heated. “It’s really him!”

“Oh, please,” the mare rolled her eyes. “You can’t possibly believe he’s the original ‘Candy’ murderer from a thousand years ago. That guy is long gone!”

“Oh yeah? Well, how do you explain the murders then? They’re done the same way.”

“Easy, they’re copycat killings,” the mare had a smug look on her face. “I mean the only way it could possibly be the same guy is if he was magic.”

Mimic sighed heavily. You don’t know the half of it.

She pushed a button and the bus came to stop. She got off and began to walk east toward her next destination. She was halfway there when the feeling of somepony watching her came over her.

She looked around at her surroundings. People were walking or hurrying past her; trying to get to work or other places. Taxis, buses, and other vehicles drove down the road; going to different locations. The sound of dogs barking, car horns, and people talking on their phones reached her ears.

There was no indication that somepony was watching her. Somewhat satisfied, she continued on her way. A few minutes later, she made it to her destination: a small diner called Tomato and Cheese-Stick.

She walked inside; only to be greeted by one of the owners, a brown earth pony stallion named Cheese-Stick. Under his dirty apron, he wore a ratty Manehatten Giants t-shirt and sweat pants. An old blue baseball cap covered his blonde mane and toothpick hung from his mouth.

He did not look happy.

“You’re late,” He said gruffly.

She stared at him. “So dock me.”

“I barely pay you!”

“Then be grateful.” She walked toward kitchen door; ready to get to work.

“Maybe I’ll be more gratefully if you came to work on time!” he shouted after her. She sighed. It was the start of another day of the life of Mimic King.

† † †

09:45pm.

That was what the time read when the dark green earth pony stallion, Ginger looked at his watch. It was another busy day at Ginger Ale’s Liquor House and it just started to simmer down. He looked up just in time to see another earth pony stallion, a red one with a yellow mane and tail, walk up to him.

“The human’s back again,” he whispered; pointing behind him. Ginger looked to where he was pointing. Sure enough, a dark figure dressed all in black sat at a small table in the back. A glass of alcohol sat in front of him but it didn’t look like he drank from it. A hood covered his face.

The guy has been coming and going for a while now. He would always order some kind of alcohol but he would never drink. He would sit at that same table for hours; from opening to closing time.

Ginger went back to cleaning the bar counter. “So, whut do ya want meh ta do?”

“Send him packing?” the stallion shrugged nervously. “The guy gives me the creeps!”

Ginger looked over at the figure again. He did sense some strange vibes from him but he didn’t care. He was just a bartender. He wasn’t paid to judge anypony who came through those doors. He told the stallion that but he wouldn’t listen. Fiery Orange has always been a scaredy-hooves.

“Relax, Orange, he ain’t hurtin’ anypony,” Ginger slung the rag he was using over his shoulder. “Sides, if ya want ‘im out, ya can tell ‘im yerself.”

Orange looked over at the figure; the expression on his face clearly saying he wasn’t going anywhere near that guy anytime soon.

“Now ah’m gonna go and head on out,” Ginger walked toward the back. “Lock up the place before ya leave, will ya?”

“Going to visit a preschool on your way home?” Orange teased.

Ginger glared at him. “Don’t ya joke about that.”

Orange held his hands up in surrender as Ginger walked out. Unbeknownst to them, the mysterious figure was turned toward them. He chuckled darkly; a pair of lollipop eyes staring back at them.

“Hungry . . .”