Handle with extreme care.
A common courier takes packages, envelopes and mail from location to location, everyday. A common courier slaves everyday, delivering packages to earn a measly paycheck. He or she doesn't get anywhere in life, other than his or her routine travel paths. That's the life of a common courier, and that's how it is.
Not me, not anymore and never more. I've kindled the spirit of independence, and finally work on contract. No regular working hours, or depending on paychecks. I live life how I want, and work when I feel I'm ready to tackle the job I'm given. With all those bonuses comes the handsome pay for each package delivered, letting me shop and spend how I please.
Granted that it's no easy feat having this job even if it sounds simple enough to transport a package from location A to B. Usually dangerous or having to do with illegal products, always have to modify the car I use to deliver, and escape routes if the delivery goes awry. I also have to maintain a bought private jet to travel and transport internationally, with extra costs coming from pilot and her maintenance. Also the small fact that the product has to be intact, whatever the condition I arrive in, or its a one way delivery to a casket. As important as all these requisites are, there is a primordial rule that is imperative to follow:
Never, under any circumstance, do you look inside the package.
All of this to maintain the title and prestige of "The Incognito Courier", internationally known for being stealthy, both aspects of dependability and speed being the common core around my success. The incognito comes from the care I take to cover up my tracks, not being identified by employers nor those who chase me, and with extreme caution of severing any relation of me and the delivery.
But this isn't about me flaunting my expertise or independence, sorta:
This is where I break that one rule that I should of kept, but say that I don't regret at all doing.
Close to the city of Vancouver, Canada.
A bright sunny day with a few puffy clouds that contemplate the bright cheery blue sky, intertwined with the nature of the Garibaldi Provincial Park. Picture perfect trees with birds chirping and fresh forest air accompanied with natural pine scent put me at calm, yet its juxtaposed by the delivery i'm requested to do that puts me on edge. Its for a infamous mob located in Russia, notorious for their brutal attacks against anyone obstructing their interests. Pausing my worries as I eye a black Lincoln Continental approach through the woods, I fastened my gloves, straightened my suit and walked towards the two men just arriving.
Through the semi-open window, one man gruffly states "Ready to deliver?". his well kept face hidden by shades shows no emotion whatsoever.
I nodded, not uttering a single sound. Keeps the whole "Incognito" jig present.
"Take care of the product, and you should know the destination, but I'll repeat: Within a 32 hour period from here to Nizhny Novogrod, Russia. All expenses, from fuel from the jet and car are paid. Just deliver and you'll get the rest of the agreed payment."
A quick thumbs up, and I get into my car, a modified Mercedes Benz W140 suited for high speeds and long distances, which best accompanies the long trip from the forest to the nearest airport in Vancouver.
Looking through the rear mirror, I see the second man carry a black bag, with a figure clearly squirming inside of it. He gives it a few violent shakes, stopping the figure from squirming, and places it with a loud thump into the back of my car. My eyes meet his in the rear view mirror, his squinting with a tang of suspicion. Looking back in front of me, I grab hold of the wheel, kicking the car into gear and head off, the 2nd man still eyeing me all the way till he can't see me anymore.
Its a calm ride, with little noise around me. It clears my head from any worry, until I realize I carry a living being behind me.
"I'll just open the bag, feed it and shove it back in, no biggie."
Stopping at a small convenience store, grabbing a couple of fizzy drinks and all natural potato chips for me and the cargo, I head on to later park on the side of the road. Tracking my time, I approximate 31 hours left, leaving me breathing space to leisure around, calmly enjoying the all natural flavor of potato from the chips and finishing off by indulging the fizzy drink to the open Canadian landscape.
"Right, the cargo, almost forgot."
Heading towards the trunk, I open it to reveal the black bag. It's not squirming, but it's certainly still moving in some parts, most likely by its breathing. I do note it's a rather large body for a human.
"C'mon, you can do this. Open, feed, zip, done. Shouldn't be hard, and no one will notice. But why am I doing this?..."
I stop to ponder. Why am I actually doing this? It's against one sacred rule, explicitly told by the man from early on. It wasn't the first time I've transported a human, but at least it wasn't as obvious I was doing so. That, and the unusually large body, that looked more quadruped rather than a human bipedal. A prize dog perhaps? A costly cat?
"Either way, its just a simple delivery. No need to really ponder about it."
I'm still reluctant to open the bag. Whatever is inside the bag knows the car stopped, and started to move around. I notice it does have four legs, although the width of each leg are dead giveaways it can't be a normal pet, except a . I touch the bag, the body freezes. I feel around it, trying to imagine what it is. Appeasing my curiosity, I start to unzip the bag, and instantly feel a shock of awe assault me.
A pony. A god forsaken pony. Not just a regular common colored pony, but a purple, winged and horned pony. Something that children would draw to try to please their parents.
My mind went blank, almost instantly. I have never seen anything like it. It was so incredible, so astonishing, so cute, it hurt me to see it's legs, wings, mouth and horn wrapped with both duct and packaging tape. Quickly placing down the fizz pop and chips I had in my hand, I gaze at it's purple eyes intently, and it does the same to me. She does the same, the eyelashes give away her gender, helping me not look you-know-where to find out it's sex.
I can't give her fizz pop and chips. This is a pony for god sakes....
I grab the fizz pop and chips off from the dirt when she starts shaking her head, eyes staring intently on the fizzy pop and all natural potato chips, and looking back at me with puppy eyes.
How the heck can I say no...
Taking the tape out of her mouth carefully to not hurt her, I open the potato chip bag first, in which her eyes project delight once chips go into her mouth. More awe flooded me as I saw her accept readily my second portion of chips, in which I also had opened the fizzy drink and was met with happy gulping. The mare's expression is of thankfulness, as she finishes the last chip and sip of fizzy drink, in which she proceeds to open her mouth...
She whinnied, and made loud pony noises. Should of known.
Crossed with a face of confusion and surprise, she looks at her horn, and ushers me to take the tape off with an eye gesture.
"No, I've already crossed the line opening the bag and feeding you. There is no need for me to un-tape something I have no idea what will do. Heh, can't let something as adorable as you do whatever."
She rolls her eyes, which both amuses my heart and amazes me to the core. This animal, this thing, can understand a human language and react to it without a problem. It's as if she already encountered English before. Before I could get deeper into thought, she pulled the puppy eyes again.
"No, no can do."
The pupils grew bigger.
"No... Stop."
The pupils grew even bigger, with tiny sparkles starting to show. Classic eye sparkle, just like in cartoons or in television.
Purely Irresistible.
"What the hell... Fine, you win. Any moves and I won't hesitate to respond accordingly,"
Just like prying off the tape of her mouth, I carefully take off both the masking and duct tape. Interestingly, it's as if her horn has pain receptors, from the neighing and whinnies from pain with each piece of tape taken off. After what seemed like an eternity but in actuality a few minutes her horn was freed, with a smile accompanied with it.
A smile that I didn't like. A smile that I could swear it whispered to me:
"You fell for it. One of the oldest tricks in the book. Cya."
Before I could react, a quick cloud of sparkly purple magic embodied her, a poof and like that, gone. Gone like the wind, with no trace, nothing. Not a single molecule of indication that there was a purple winged and horned pony that now I learned can teleport. I wanted to vomit.
"Damn it! Damn it! Holy shit! How was I so stupid, idiotic enough to do that?! Now my career is over, and possibly my life. I thought I would die in a epic fashion, in a blazing gunfight or a daring delivery. Not by having the package teleport in front of my eyes."
Returning to the car, slowly closing the door, and grabbing the wheel of the car, I continue rambling about my imminent permanent leave from work.
"Oh boy, I wonder what they are going to carve on my epitaph! Must be something sweet like 'The best courier fell to one of the oldest tricks in the book, to a pony no less', or something among those lines. I fucking hope there isn't anyone who actually followed me. Wonder how I'll explain it to them, especially to the Russian mafia. Heck, I bet they are laughing right now, rather than just eliminating me. This is jus-"
A instantly recognizable poof was heard behind me. I whipped my head back to spot the pony, free from all the tape that wrapped around her. Quickly grabbing my gun, I exited the car and made a beeline to her, only for her to grasp the gun in my hand with magic and pin me to the side of my car.
I never have felt so scared and powerless in my life than now,
I'm dead. Killed by my own gun, by a pony. I wonder how my epitaph will look now.
Still pinned by her magic, she closed in, just a few feet from where I was struggling to move. Looking straight at me, she cleared her throat and spoke:
"Sorry for the rude departure, think your up for a small introduction? I can humorously say the tables have turned, have they not?"
I could not cope with this. My mind, blank and fear rising up to my head, made me want to scream. It was a mix of awe and astonishment that clashed with pure fear of being at mercy of the clearly upper-handed being.
I felt pressure release when my head was cleared from any enveloped magic that pinned it down. I stared at her, mouth open, gasping for breath on what just happened in the last three minutes. I have nothing to say, other than to let her continue to talk.
"I'll that as a yes." With a dignified pose, a stern yet friendly voice, "My name is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, and I thank you for helping me out of my prison. I am eternally grateful for feeding me as well. I'll admit I was quite hungry."
I stayed silent, trying to process what she, I would rather say, Twilight told me.
Twilight Sparkle? Princess of Friendship? I need to stop taking too many sleep pills. Primordially, I can't let her go. It's either me or her, and not a difficult decision to choose who to save. The problem is, how to catch a pony that uses magic, can fly, and currently has the upper hand?...
Bingo, I got it.
"... and I am thankful for what you have done-"
"Ahem, excuse me... Princess?"
Twilight paused, nodded and conceded my petition to speak.
"Why are you here?"
Author's Note
My first story that I hope to make it become a series that can be enjoyed by many.
I got some inspiration from The Transporter if anyone watched it. Changed up a few things here and there, but later on will deviate highly, making it more original. Trying to make a platform to build on.
Criticism is highly appreciated, with hopes that you can catch any mistakes so I can later correct them.
I also thank you for taking time to read my story!
