Thunder. Thunderous booms is what the citizens of Griffonstone heard. There was no rain on this night, but yet the griffons stayed inside their home; shutters and doors locked tight.
Scratching. The sound of talons and claws scratching on stone. Hienrick, the local blacksmith, ran for his life. He was sleeping soundly until he was woken by the sound of mechanical whirring and his front door being ripped apart.
Another bang echoed through the night. Pain ripped through Hienricks right hind leg. He stumbled, almost falling but his will to live keeping him at least limping.
"One. One count of murder." He heard a slow, synthetic voice echo behind him. The sound of steel on stone coming from behind him. Hienrick's attacker had a slow gait, as though at leisure. Hienricks breath was getting ragged, his mind growing weary. He was running in the shadows, bleeding from a heavy wound on his leg. He cried for help, his voice as ragged as his lungs. No one opened their doors to him. He ducked into an alley way, hiding by a group of trashcans. The thick metal construction should help in blocking the incoming projectiles.
Silence. The night was still. The only sound present was Hienrick's breathing. He might be able to survive this. If he lost his attacker, he might be able to seek medical aid. After that, he'll skip town an-
Agony flared through his shoulder as the mechanical whirring returned. The trashcans were reduced to scrap as a circular saw on the end of a hefty pole tore through them like butter and sliced into his shoulder and to the bone, painting the ground brilliant crimson in the light of the full moon. "Two. Two counts of rape."
Hienrick fell back, clutching his shoulder. He was about to try and flee, but a heavy metal sabaton stomped his other shoulder, pinning him to the ground on his back. He could clearly see his attacker now that he was staring face to face with them. It was a creature that was bipedal, thick bodied and broadly shouldered. It's body was completely covered in armor, no flesh exposed. The armor itself was constructed out of scrap metal, with a skeletal motiff. The helmet was in the shape of some sort of skull, its face plate's mouth contorted into a rictus grin. From where the armor would have gaps, a dim ice blue light flowed forth; bright blue in the eyes. Those same eyes got brighter as they stared into him, seemingly at his soul. "No guilt detected. Time to cleanse the world of another rapist."
Hienrick cried out in desperation, "No! It wasn't me, ya got the wrong griffon!" After this exclamation, the force of the boot on his shoulder doubled.
"You can not lie to me, Hienrick." The griffon's eyes widened at the mention of his name. How did it know? "I can see your soul, and the sins that are tethered to it. You are a sick monster." It lowered it's head towards Hienrick's face. "Did she deserve it? She was just a young mare, barely even twenty, trying to carve a simple life out of this place." It made a slow sweeping gesture with it's saw. "And you felt it was your right to take it from her!" It pointed it's saw directly at the griffon's face.
"She was just a pony! A lesser creature. We griffons deserve to be at the top! She thought she was my equal, so I put her in her place." Hienrick saw no point in hiding his sins. They were already lain bare before this beast of metal.
It kept looking at his face, it's eyes unwavering. "You abducted her when she came to you in her hour of need. You locked her away after having your first go at her. Then you raped her again, then killed her after she tried to escape." It's saw began to spin again, but was pulled away from his face. Then it was lined up with his griffonhood.
"NO!! Have mercy!" Hienrick cried out.
"Is that what she said in her final moments? Before you butchered her and devoured the remains?" The searing agony began in his groin as the saw sliced straight through his griffonhood and continued up. His mind began to break when the saw kept going and disemboweled him. His vision blurred as the blade continued, grinding and slicing his sternum in two. He knew no more as the blade exited the top of his skull. Before his spirit could move on, the creature took a small scrap metal skull off it's hip, it's eyes empty. It gave a silent chant as Hienrick's soul was sucked into the small skull, causing it to contort into a griffon skull; the tiny skull's eyes now alight.
The creature let out a sigh as it took it's foot off of Hienrick. "It's going to take forever to clean the gore off this blade. Why do I always insist on poetic justice?" It examined it's saw, the metal gore coated. "It might just be easier to replace the blade." Before it could examine more, a blue glow came from behind him. He turned and saw the soul of an earth pony mare. The apparition silently walked past him and looked at the body, her nose wrinkled in disgust. She also showed relief, however.
"So it's finished, Necromancer? He's actually dead?" The spirit began to weep, overjoyed that her murderer was brought to justice. The creature walked over to her and put it's gauntlet on her shoulder.
"Yes Lemon Drops, it's over and justice has been served." It's synthetic voice sounded the same as earlier, but somehow carried a tone of sympathy behind it. Lemon Drops wrapped her front legs around his waist, still weeping. "Now go to the light, young one, a happy after life awaits you. Away from pain and suffering. Dance among the stars alongside your ancestors." It said, gesturing it's hand toward the starlit sky. Lemon Drops let go of it's waist, giving it a sad smile before fading into the night sky.
The scrap metal armored creature stared up at where Lemon Drops faded before hearing a small clicking noise on his shoulder. Chuckling, the creature gently pulled a spider off of his shoulder. It was about the size of a tarantula, and made purely of metal. It's rear end was made of a small scrap metal skull that glowed. "I know you wanted to play, Vlad, but you know that you are the peaceful and painless end. This piece of shit didn't deserve that end." The spider made a small hissing noise in his palm and threw it's front legs up, as if to say 'fine, whatever.' Laughing, he began to continue his trek, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. It's beautiful rays illuminating the Scrap Metal Necromancer's handy work. The spirits told him of a more peaceful existence in a land called Equestria. It couldn't wait to get there and start a new life.
Author's Note
While I was planning another chapter for Fine Fangs and trying yet again to rewrite A Diamond in the Rough, this idea popped into my head. I hope you are ready for a ride, 'cause Mister Bones' Wild Ride has only just begun.
An alleyway in Manehatten was closed off. The guard wouldn't let anyone through, only detectives and other guards. It was drizzling lightly, but it looked like gently falling snow in the early moonlight. Two were let through the guards. A dark blue pegasus stallion with a bright green mane and a notebook cutiemark. He was wearing a stereotypical duster and hat. His companion was a griffon lioness. She was primarily black furred with dark gray feathers. Her front half was a raven and the rear was that of a panther. What was in front of them was barely recognizable as a pony.
Among the trash of the alleyway was the body of the now deceased Biblical Study. His once white fur was now mostly stained red. His ribs were separated from his spine and lung were pulled through the opening. The forensic study showed that it happened while he was alive. A hole in the lower spinal region was inflicted before the killing blow, implying that the killer paralyzed him before going for the kill. As if to humiliate him, his horn was severed; the bone cut cleanly.
The pegasus was looking a little green at the sight. "What the fuck?" He whispered. Crime wasn't common in Equestria, the pegasus had only done investigations on cheating couples, the occasional robbery, that sort of thing. Never had he investigated murder, let alone one of this brutality. "I'm not sure why we are out here, the forensics team hasn't been able to draw up any conclusions and all leads came to a dead end. So tell me, Brynhild, what could we possibly find that the forensics teams couldn't?"
Brynhild, on the other claw, has investigated murders. In fact, she had come from Griffonia, following the trail that has been left behind by this mysterious murderer. The cause of death wasn't always the same, but there was always two similarities. The slashes didn't look like cuts, but precise ripping. The other was the nauseating feel the entire scene always has, regardless of if one is aware of the crime. The tamest of the deaths were beheadings, but this was an example of the most brutal yet. "What those teams didn't have was someone well versed in Griffonian lore. Seeing the corpse myself proved my assumption about the murderer being Griffonian in origin correct."
The pegasus quirked an eyebrow. "What makes you say that? It just looks like an extremely brutal murder to me."
Brynhild shook her head. "This wasn't a simple murder. This is a Blood Eagle." The pegasus looked at her questioningly, causing her to elaborate. "The Blood Eagle is a sacrificial rite that, while rare, often was done in the name of Odin, one of the old Griffonian gods. Biblical was both tortured and sacrificed in the same action. What ever sick monster had done this was either doing it for irony, or to send a message." The pegasus almost lost his lunch, being reminded that this poor pony was alive until it was over. Brynhild looked up into the night. "And I don't think it was just irony. This is clearly a message, but of what?"
The Following Day
The train pulled into the station in Ponyville, coming from Manehatten. Departing from the train was a pale, bipedal creature. His body was burly in build, but his face was gaunt. A dark gray beard hung from his sunken features. Atop his head was matching, shoulder length gray hair. His attire practically screamed functionality. A plain blue shirt beneath a set of overalls. His feet were adorned with dark brown boots and his hands were gloved in similar brown material. His outfit always seemed to carry an oil stain somewhere on it. He lightly hummed to himself as he carried his luggage off the train.
"Scrappy! You're back!" He turned his head towards the pink pony approaching him.
"Pinkie, you know I prefer the name Grim." Grim replied, his accent distinctly Scandinavian.
"I know, but Grim makes you sound dark and evil. Or as you sometimes say, 'edgy', whatever that means." Pinkie and Grim shared a laugh. Despite the fact that they are visually opposites, the two of them became instant friends when Grim first came to Ponyville three years ago. "So, did you have a good business trip?" Pinkie asked as they made their way to Sugarcube Corner.
Grim grimaced. "Not really. Some uptight rich lady wanted something fixed and decided to call for the 'best of the best' which then changed to 'worst of the worst' when she saw I was not a pony. Still, I did the work and she payed me; which was lower than our agreed price. Last time I work for Golden Ring." He sighed, then smiled. "It was still a lot of bits though. That means more bits to spend on sugary goodies."
"Try not to damage our stock to much, we need to be prepared for tomorrow."
Grim raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow? What is going on tomorrow that requires Sugarcube Corner to closely watch it's stock?"
Pinkie giggled. "Why, it's the Summer Sun Celebration tomorrow. They're hosting it in Ponyville this year. That hasn't happened in the history of forever!"
Grim stopped at the door to the pastry shop. "Wait, that is tomorrow!? Sorry Pinkie, but I have to go make sure my shop is set up for that. No doubt tourists will come by and purchase some souvenirs from Grim Scrap's Scrap Yard." Grim recited his shops name with pride. He set it up almost immediately after arriving, and it helped Ponyville out tremendously. Having a mechanic straight out of Griffonia certainly made Ponyville stand out more than it already did.
"Just getting back from a business trip and already getting back to work. Sounds just like the Grim Scrap we all know and love." Pinkie shook her head. "Make sure nothing blows up this time."
"Hey, that only happened once." He said while turning to leave. "See you later, Pinkie." Pinkie replied by shouting 'Bye!'. Grim hurried back to his shop. Everything has to be perfect. He could feel it in his gut, tomorrow is going to be a big day.
Author's Note
Okay, I know my chapters are short. But if time and my muse wills it, then the next few chapters will be long and exciting.
