The Kill Box

“Hey…It’s not…your fault, Twilight.”

Twilight suddenly stopped crying, looking left with blood-shot eyes at Winter Storm’s corpse. Winter Storm’s talking corpse.

Taking in a sharp intake of air as to scream, she was silenced by Storm’s hand reaching out to hers. “Shhh…it’s ok; it’s ok.” Storm smiled.

Twilight was in tears again, her eyes fogging up once more, “But…I got—I got you killed.”

Storm shook her head, smiling all the while, “It doesn’t matter, just-”

Oh what a touching scene we have here! I’m practically drowning in sorrow.

Twilight whipped her head to the speaker conveniently above her head, blind rage rapidly replacing her otherwise sobbing demeanor. “Have you no soul!” she yelled upwards to the ceiling, “Someone is dying here, and all you can do is, is to look down on us like we’re puppets for your amusement! You sick bastard!”

Eh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m sick, but-

“And stop the fucking quipping!”

Oh but I love doing so. I helps to keep me humane. Try it sometime.

Twilight could feel her eye starting to twitch, flicking in random patterns. “Keeping you humane? Keeping you fucking humane! I’ll show you humane you sack of shit!”

Curling her hand into a semi-fist, Twilight’s vision started to dim.  Conjuring a ball of white-hot fire, she let out a mighty yell of anger, her vision flashing red, and hurled it straight for the speaker with all the intensity of murder. The fire, concentrated into a dense sphere, collided with the speaker with a great Whumpf!, creating a sizeable dent in the box shape. The effect then traveled down the wire, bursting with a great show in every electrical device in a 20-foot radius of the initial impact point.

Twilight was steaming; her hand visibly smoking and trails of smoke could be seen flying about her hair. She glanced at the carnage around her; carnage that she caused with a single stroke of her hand, and smirked at the power.

A noise made her ears perk, “Twilight?” She heard from behind her.

Spinning around, she crouched slightly, hands like claws, and growled in the direction of the noise. Upon noticing that it seemed to be male, Twilight growled a little deeper, her hands flexing from being claw-like, to a fist, and then back again. Taking a step forward, she was interrupted by the…floor?...starting to speak.

Are-are you ok?

And as though a switch had been flipped, Twilight blinked her eyes. Her view flashed from a field of red to see Lightning, cowering in fear behind Storm, both of whom were wearing concerned, yet absolutely terrified faces.

Standing up, she recomposed herself. “I’m…sorry you had to witness that.” Twilight said, her eyes finding a great interest in the floor all of a sudden.

Peeking out from behind Storm, Lightning decided to be the first to speak. “Don’t be. It was only natural.” Lightning shrugged, “Though with that sudden rampage, The Caretaker’s going to want some revenge for the damage.” He kicked a camera on the floor absentmindedly.

Looking up, Twilight eyes wandered the wreckage around her, and then quickly shot back to the floor in shame; a redness creeping on her cheeks. “Yea-yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

As they all got up to move, Storm cried out, her left hand rushing to her thigh. As the others also rushed to help her, she motioned them away and sat back down, her body leaning up against the wall for support. Looking down, Twilight spied a fresh pool of blood collecting beneath Storm’s body. As her hand went for her pocket for the envelope, Storm waved her hand away, “That’s enough of that.”

“But-“ Twilight started.

“No; leave me for The Caretaker to find. Hopefully that’ll get him slowed down enough for you to leave.”

“Can’t I just-“

“No.”

A look of utter dismay and sadness befell Twilight’s face. Motioning for Lightning to follow her, which he responded with unusually quick reception, they took off, leaving Storm behind. Walking off down the hallway, they headed up the stair to what they both hoped was freedom.

“Thank you, Flash, for that presentation. But now onto the real reason I called you down here.”

The room hadn’t said much after the hypothesis that attack dogs were used on the victims, all their spirits quelled by such a horrific idea. In response to Shining’s comment, Blaze stood up and inserted the drive recovered last night into Moon Blade’s laptop, taking his spot at the keyboard. Opening up the drive, Blaze hovered over the 2 folders available.

“Which one do you want opened?” he inquired.

“Start with the one titled ‘Logs’; we’ll save the other for later.” Shining replied.

After clicking on said folder, another document opened up; opening that document revealed a long series of short logs, all neatly organized by the date made. Blaze started to give abbreviated excerpts on what flashed on screen.

“Log: 7/15/1001

Greetings, log. I have started to record my life, as of today, for something horrible has happened recently…I hope that this can quell those emotions. I hope that this can put a soul to rest. You see, log, my beautiful, amazing, and wonderful wife, Streaming Shine, has died. There is so much bottled up that I don’t know how to even get all this down. The horrific sorrow is so great, I’m actually tearing up writing this.

Log: 7/17/1001

As of today, I have started to seek help for this depression that I’m in. My doctor has been pleased with my confession to starting to write this, saying that it could be a substitute for talking to…Her.

In other news, my job at Acres Technology has gotten better. Lead programmer for the next iOS update. Hopefully programming can take my mind off of Her passing.

Log: 7/23/1001

It’s been almost 10 days since starting to write these logs, and—I don’t know—I feel like I’m going to burst. All this hate, love, and everything is always coming to a boil, and I notice myself coming to rage at the smallest things. Like, today before breakfast, I was having trouble fastening a button on my pants, and I nearly screamed in anguish after only 2 tries.

Log: 7/26/1001

I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. The anger is eating me up from the inside. I have to act, no, need to.

Log: 7/27/1001

I…did something today. Something horrible, yet strangely satisfying. I killed someone today, log, I took the old hunting knife from the shed and then went out after dark and killed them.

I don’t know what to do; how could I have done this?...

Log: 7/28/1001

I had the urge to kill again today, and I’m sorry, but I gave in. The thrill, the feel, it’s so fulfilling.

Log: 7/31/1001

My more recent kills with just the knife have become dull, I think it’s time to up the stakes. So, I went and bought a revolver and silencer: .44 magnum. Let’s see how this plays out.

Hmm…seems to be the same like that for a few months. Constant urge, kill, fantasize, and cool, over and over again.” Blaze muttered as he sped through the documents. “Let’s see if we can get a hit of something else…

Log: 12/6/1001

Today is a great day. I have finally acquired the permits to the abandoned facility some ways away from here; one that serves perfectly for my next step. All that’s left is to wait for the workers to come in to refurbish the rooms and I’m gold.

Log: 12/10/1001

After inspecting the rooms, I have started fantasizing about how everything will play out. I need cameras, speakers, microphones, everything. The only hard thing to come across will be the saws…perhaps I’ll nick them off of a “broken delivery truck”.

Log: 2/18/1002

After 2 months of long and hard work, it’s finished. My masterpiece, magnum opus, piece de resistance, all of it. Everything is nicely laid out, perfectly ready for whomever is to step foot in those rooms. HA HA! Now I believe it is time to explain the method to all this madness: why. You see, log, when my wife had her end tragically soon, it was at the hands of none other than Little-Miss-Perfect, Twilight Sparkle. Just as she was ‘saving the day’ once again, my lovely and amazing wife was sideswiped whilst in her car, hit by another unicorn who was in a fight with the perfectionist. Little bitch won’t know what hit her.”

Before he could continue, Blaze was interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door, gathering the attention of all present. After a moment’s hesitation to make sure it was their door, another set of knocks rang through the room, and the officers hit the floor. Flash and Shining each drew their respective sidearm, a Colt .45 and a standard service pistol, while kneeling behind the table. Blaze dove at the computer desk, tackling Blade and his laptop to the ground. Hiding behind the desk, he shot one hand out to his briefcase while the other went behind his back. Rifling through the case with his right hand, he revealed a Mangum revolver and passed it to Moon Blade. His left hand, meanwhile, came back with dual Ponyguard .38 special pistols.

“You ever been in a firefight before, kid?” he asked Moon Blade while he chambered a round.

“Uh, does basic count?” he asked in reply.

Shaking his head, Blaze sniggered slightly before getting into a kneel to aim over the table at the door, with Blade following suit.

A steady chorus of light breathing filled the room, and then stayed there for a minute while Shining figured what to do.

“I thought you said this place was secure!” Flash hissed to him.

“It is supposed to be!” Shining hissed back.

Glancing at the time, he came up with a quick plan, one that was instantly relayed to Flash. “Cover me, I’m going to open the door—no I’m not going to get killed. I’ll play the lazy bum; pretend I just woke up. Maybe it’s just a neighbor coming to say hi. Hopefully the clothes we picked for our ‘stay’ here will pass.”

Flash rolled his eyes, “Son of a—forget it. Go, but give me an avenue of attack if it hits the fan.”

Slowly getting up, Shining kept his sights trained on the door while moving to the right to ‘hug the wall’ as it were. Moving step by painfully loud step, he half-crouched and half-walked his way to the doorknob. Placing his pistol behind his back in his belt, he unlocked the bolt and removed the chain. Approaching from the left of the door, he made sure that he could see out, but Flash could still hit a potential target behind the door. What met his face shocked him.

“Hi. I was told you can help me find my mom?”

After leaving Storm behind and heading up the stairwell, Twilight and Lightning found themselves in a less-than-functional hallway junction. With the only light coming from the stair, Twilight could do little more than squint to faintly spot the cracks on the floor in front of her. Reaching back, she grabbed Lightning’s hand and started to walk down the right hall. She steadily progressed down the hall, groping the walls in a futile attempt to turn on some nonexistent lights. Stumbling forward, her foot got caught on an object in the dark, causing it to roll farther down the hall. Smiling she rushed forward slightly, now wildly waving across the floor, and quickly grabbed the cylindrical object. Finding and subsequently flicking a switch on it, she discovered the object to have been a flashlight.

The newfound beam shone brightly in the otherwise pitch-black hall; easily lighting 20 feet ahead. Twilight’s momentary happiness was broken, however, when she heard a ragged breathing coming from behind her, sending chills throughout her body. Forgetting that Lightning was behind her, Twilight started wildly flailing to ‘protect’ herself. After hitting something in the dark, she shined the light to see what it was. Turns out it had just been her companion, who was now showing a very pale and strained face as both of his hand covered his abdomen, which was clearly showing red all over it.

Twilight threw her hands to her mouth, “Oh my Celestia! I’m so sorry; are you OK?”

Lightning groaned, “I-I’m…fine. Just-just continue.” he moaned out before hunching over even more.

Twilight shook her head, “No. We’re stopping, and we’re stopping now.”

Looking into the abyss, Twilight thankfully found a door leading into the left wall. Draping Lightning’s arm over her shoulders to support him, they wobbled the last 20 paces. The room they found was fairly bare, with assorted tools and boxes stacked haphazardly against the far wall and an old, beat-up desk. Sitting down, they quickly realized there was little elbow room between them, even as they lay against opposite walls.

Being so close to Lightning, Twilight really noticed the discolouration in his face and hands. Wincing in response to his moans of pain, she questioned whether he would make it much longer.

“How bad is it?” Twilight asked Lightning.

“It’s not…that ba-OH!” he exclaimed, clutching his side, “Fuck!”

Jumping to her feet, Twilight reached to inspect the wound, but Lightning tried shying away. Twilight huffed, “I need to see your wound to treat it.” He stayed silent, “Come on; I need to help you!”

Still getting no response, Twilight turned away, muttering under her breath. “Fine, be that way.”

She then quickly scanned her eyes across the room, discovering a previously missed, hand-written note on the desk. Picking it up, she read a quick narrative on the closet they were in.

To the General Workers Foreman,

That’s it. I fucking quit. I haven’t been paid in a week. If my money doesn’t arrive by tomorrow, I’m pulling my boys back. 5 of us have already been injured in landslides, and another 2 are in critical. You get my fucking equipment out of here; I’m gone.

Flipping the paper over, she found another note, apparently a response to the first.

In response to the dipshit who wrote this.

No fucking way are you leaving. Even if your entire team is dead, you continue the job. The money you’d receive is beyond more than you would otherwise be able to get, and there is no way I’m passing that up. Medical should arrive shortly; look for the green case.

“Huh.”

Thankfully, another glance found the case apart of the stack in the back of the room. Cracking the side and reaching in, Twilight removed 2 rolls of gauze, a pair of tweezers, and another veil of red-coloured liquid. Approaching Lightning, she reached to tap his shoulder for his attention. He apparently already noticed Twilight, because he tried to shy away again, but he relented when he noticed the gauze. With great effort, he raised his arms and allowed Twilight to tend to the wounds. She made quick work, pulling his shirt up, she used her fingers to pry and poke a little at the wound, frowning when more blood spurted out. Sticking the tweezers into the, thankfully, small hole, she started a tedious process of removing as many fragments of the bullet as she could; placing the fragments onto a piece of the gauze.

What was scaring her the most wasn’t he chance of accidently letting Lightning bleed out, but it was his lack of response to her jabbing. Hoping that it was simply shock from the pain thus far, Twilight finished the shard removal. Moving on to dressing the wound, she used the remaining rolls in 6 consecutive wraps going around his torso. Once that was finished, she lowered his hands to a default position and gave him the potion to drink. After he quickly chugged it down, they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

“So…are you ok now?”

Silence.

“Hello?” This time a hand was woven into his sight.

“Fine be that way.” Yawning came next.

With seemingly nothing left to do for the time being, Twilight fell into a well-deserved sleep.