Let Them Eat Vengeance

Alison grumbled to herself from her seat in history class. They were watching a World War 1 documentary in class, so the lights were turned out. Her classmates tried their hardest to act like she wasn’t doing anything, and just focused on the smart board. Alison was rather pissed about what she’d heard back from the police. She’d received a copy of some CCTV footage with her answer. Her current situation was puzzling, to say the least. Apparently, those at the Police Department had dubbed him the Ghost Rider. The footage showed two separate perspectives, edited to match side by side. The cameras were obviously high up, and seemed to be placed at a right angle to one another, pointed at the street respectively.

The left hand side was pointing East-Bound up Canterlot Ave, and the right was pointing West-Bound. The East-Bound camera showed the drunken duo stumbling into frame from the top left. There was no audio, but she could clearly see Benson turn around and shush Jo. The two then seemed a bit distracted by something, and turned their gaze to the lower right hand side of the frame. What ever they were staring at wasn’t visible in the second camera, so it must’ve been somewhere out of frame. They seemed to call out to something, and someone’s feet finally stepped into the top right hand side of the second camera feed. A dark, hooded figure stepped into frame, and stopped in center focus. Benson took a few hesitant steps toward him, dropping his lower half out of the frame in the bottom right of camera one.

Camera one artifacted and froze for about two seconds while the dark figure reached for their hood. When the feed came back, a black car was now parked behind Jo and Benson. A car which, as was pointed out to her, belonged to Harrison. A black Mustang. Then, as soon as camera one cleared, the dark figure ripped his hood back. An angry, white skull stood out atop his dark clothing. Jo seemed to panic, and fired a shot at the thing. The figure’s clothing fluttered a bit as the bullet impacted, but the specter itself remained still. Its eye sockets narrowed at the men, and a bright flash overpowered camera two’s photo diode, causing it to malfunction and go black. The flash completely illuminated the front sides of the two henchmen, and they turned to run. They then discovered the car parked behind them, and stared for a moment as it turned itself on. They scampered around the car, and the driver’s side door grazed Jo. He gawked at the open door for a moment, and ran off.

The dark figure entered into frame mid-right on camera one, and you could see bright flames flickering on its head as it marched over to the open car door. The fire went out for a split second, and then a second flash knocked out camera one after the driver shut the door. And so she now had this to think about as she went to school. Not that she couldn’t have skipped if she wanted. But, she figured her school friends would help her clear her head. They didn’t. The documentary in class moved on from the ‘Attack of The Dead Men’ and started talking about Verdun. The opening statement drew her in immediately. The Human Slaughter House. The Devil’s Anvil. The Battle of Verdun. The German crown prince, William, launches Operation Gericht(Judgement). The part that stuck out to her was the goal of the operation. It was, to quote; “Bleed France white.” To kill as many French soldiers as possible, by attacking a place so important, the French would fight for it to the bitter end. Within hours, a million shells were fired. Just hours after the initial bombardment, the Germans used grenade troopers in combination with the terrifying new weapon, the flame thrower, to push into the forests around Verdun. Its here they encounter unexpected resistance from the surviving French soldiers. The sacrifice of Colonel Émile Driant, and his men, manages to slow the Crown Prince. The French High Command decided they would defend Verdun to the end. The trap had been sprung.

One could almost see the lightbulb go off in her head. She was now inspired. Determined and out for blood, she arose from her seat and quickly marched toward the classroom door. The teacher didn’t even bother to stop her as she walked right by his desk. She power walked through the halls and pulled up her cell phone. Dialing a number, she held the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Jacobs? It’s Alison. Call me a ride to leave school. I have an idea.” She ordered.

A few days of relative calm had passed at CHS. There was a light mood about the air today, which spurred everyone into life in the hallways. This seemed to be triggered by a winter dance which was coming up, but was further boosted by a certain grouch who was in a far merrier mood than usual. It was like the dark clouds over the school were finally clearing. Dave spotted Sunset Shimmer in the halls, and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. Sunset spun around, and was greet by Dave’s smiling face.

“Hey, Sunset, can we talk for a second?” He asked. Sunset blinked. She was a little shocked by the sudden change, but she shrugged it off.

“Sure. What is it?” She inquired. Dave took a breath and looked her square in the eyes.

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.” He admitted. “I’ve been a bit of an ass recently, and… who could blame me, but I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you and the others. We cool?” He asked. Sunset shrugged.

“Sure, I guess so.” She agreed. Dave smiled and nodded.

“Awesome. See ya around.” He said with a wave. Sunset watched him walk off and smiled to herself. He must’ve gotten some sort of help with his grief. She was happy for him.

The others couldn’t have been happier either. “He what?!” Rarity gawked.

“I know, right?!” Sunset beamed. “I wasn’t expecting this, at all! He seems like he’s really doing better!” AJ shook her head and chuckled.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” She mused. “You think he’s seein’ a therapist or somethin’?” Sunset shrugged.

“I don’t know!” She said happily. “But whatever he’s doing, it’s working! He even apologized about fucking with you guys!” Rainbow Dash blinked. After the run-in she had with him, she figured he’d never get back to normal. She thought about it for a bit, and pondered if she had done this. She was the last to talk to him before he got better. Without any evidence, she figured it must be the case. She triumphantly kicked back in her chair, with a small smirk creeping its way onto her lips.

“You saved the day again, Rainbow Dash.” She thought. The others in the group took notice of her change in behavior, and turned to her curiously.

“Rainbow Dash?” Rarity questioned. “What seems to be the matter, Darling?” Dash sighed and shut her eyes contently.

“Nothing at all, Rares. Nothing at all.” She sighed peacefully.

“You want to what?” Jacobs inquired incredulously.

Alison smirked with a wild look in her eye. The malice on her face was rather drastically offset by her hot pink top, fuzzy white coat, and jean skirt. “I want to stage an assault on the people.” Jacobs blinked.

“Why?” He asked. Alison scoffed and flipped her hair off her shoulder.

“Because I’m getting tired of the futile resistance against me!” She scolded. “Think about it! They would naturally oppose anything we do. So if we stage an assault, we’ll lure them into defending the people to the bitter end. From there, we bleed my resistance dry, along with that wretch they call the Ghost Rider.” Jacobs shook his head.

“But wouldn’t that breed more resistance?” He questioned. Alison smirked and shrugged.

“Perhaps at first. But they’ll quickly realize, if they want to live, they’ll have to fall into line. After all, history is written by the victor.” She stated. She kicked back in her chair and giggled at the thought. “Call our weapons dealer. Tell him we’ll need two hundred of his finest military equipment.” Jacobs sighed and marched toward the door.

“And lock the door on your way out.” She ordered. He clicked the lock on the inside door handle and shut the door behind him. With all the privacy she could ask for, she stood from her chair. She reached under the hem of her skirt, and pulled down her tiny red thong. Her more sadistic ideas always turned her on, and this one was good enough that she could ravish herself for hours. She was glad she always kept something special in the top drawer of her desk for this, as she was going to be well acquainted with it again by the end of the night.

Jacobs cupped his hands and breathed into them. Due to Lady Alison’s busy status, he was going to have to over see the shipment. This meant meeting the dealer, on the edge of town, in the woods, at night, in the fucking cold. He was not happy about it. While he was out here, wearing himself out in the cold, she was inside, wearing herself in, in the warmth of her office. God, he wished he could get himself off right now. Not that he could with the cold, but he felt pent up as all hell. His misses had been holding out on him because of an argument, and he was feeling it. The argument had been about his work with Alison. She wasn’t too pleased with her moral compass, and certainly wasn’t happy about her blatant flirting with her man. But, as he’d explained before, he couldn’t just leave. No, that would be a death sentence.

Jacobs huddled against the grill of his car, hoping to soak up the heat from his idling SUV. It was a long shot, since he was leaning only his buttox against the car; but he was willing to try anything to keep warm. After all, he had to make sure they saw his face when they pulled up. This man was notoriously skittish. He’d blow your car away if he couldn’t see who it was inside. Jacobs feverishly rubbed his arms. It certainly didn’t help that the paranoid bastard always showed up an hour late, just to make sure any spying cops had left.

“Damn it, Sivan!” He muttered. “Would you just hurry up with the shipment already?” Then, as if he had summoned the man himself, a convoy of three military trucks pulled into the area. The trucks had large beds, like those of a troop transport truck, with large camo tarps overhead to hide what’s inside. Their diesel engines came to a loud idle as the trucks were placed in park. Jacobs used a hand to shield his eyes from the bright lights that shone upon him from three sides. Upon cutting the engines a hoard of about twenty people piled out from the rear of the three trucks. They were dressed in all black, with ski-masks hiding their faces. Each one wielded a military grade rifle, showing excellent weapon discipline as they scanned the surrounding area. They immediately fanned out to set up a perimeter. A cluster of three scanned the area while moving to the front of one of the trucks. Two scanned the rear and sides, while the lead man took point.

Upon reaching the driver’s side door of the vehicle they stopped. The two rear men dropped to one knee and continued scanning around. Meanwhile the lead man lowered his rifle and reached for a door handle. He opened the door, stepped back, and turned away; following the example of his two rear guards. Jacobs released a sigh of relief when he saw the man climbing out of the driver’s seat. He was built like a mountain, with buff arms and a thick chest. He wore black combat boots and camo green cargo pants. He wore a thin, sleeveless camo vest with a white wife-beater under it. A set of silver dog tags clanged off his chest as he walked around. He had a short goatee, and a short mohawk on top of his head. His eyes were wide open, and making rapid darting glances around the area. He spotted Jacobs and started walking toward him hesitantly. Word on the street said Sivan used to be in the SEALs, which is why he acted the way he did. It also explained the dog tags he wore. To some extent, Jacobs wondered if this military background had given him the connections to do what he does now.

“Jacobs.” Sivan greeted curtly.

Jacobs nodded at him. “Sivan.” He returned. He wouldn’t dare wave at the man. It might provoke him if he did so.

“I heard you were looking for weapons?” He inquired. Jacobs nodded again.

“That’s right, yes.” He confirmed. Sivan scratched his nose and looked around for a moment.

“Fifteen M4’s, two UMP45’s and a SAW? Plus ammo and flashlights?” Sivan said curiously. “That’s a lot of fire power, bud. What’s it for?” He asked skeptically. Jacobs sighed.

“Orders from Alison.” He answered. “I don’t know too much yet, but she’s planning an attack to lure and wipe out her opposition.” Sivan nodded.

“Okay, okay.” He muttered. He snapped his fingers and looked back at one of the men. “Go fetch one of the cases, Sebastian.” He stood there and waited, while the man he looked at just gave him confused look. In a flash, Sivan yanked a 1911 pistol out from his back pocket and shot the man three times.

“Fucking hell!” Jacobs jumped. Sivan shook his head, staring wide eyed daggers at the body laying in the gravel.

“Fucking assassins.” Sivan muttered. One of the other two looked at him sheepishly and shook his head.

“That wasn’t Sebastian, sir. That was Richard. Sebastian is on perimeter duty.” The man informed. Sivan looked over at him curiously.

“Really?” He asked. The man nodded, prompting Sivan to shrug. “Whoops. My bad. Can’t tell who’s-who with all these masks. Better safe than sorry though.” He put his pistol in his back pocket and nodded at the other two.

“Go get one of the crates.” He ordered. The two quickly turned and marched off to get the aforementioned item; while Sivan turned back to Jacobs, acting like nothing was wrong. When the two returned with the grey, metallic crate, Sivan took it and placed it between him and Jacobs. He popped the latch and opened the lid. A compact machine gun started back at him from its foam lined confines.

“This is the short barreled M249 you asked for.” Sivan explained. “It fires the same ammunition as the M4’s, so you can pool ammo into this thing from other squad members if you need too.” Jacobs nodded and leaned his face in for a closer look. Sivan pointed to the weapon and nodded.

“You wanna pick it up? See how she feels?” He asked. Jacobs shook his head and stood back upright.

“I’m good.” He declined. Sivan smirked and pulled the gun out himself.

“Come on! I insist!” He said jovially, basically shoving the gun into Jacobs’ arms. This knocked the wind out of him a bit, but he managed to keep it together.

“Okay.” Jacobs wheezed. He grunted as he positioned the thing in his arms. “God, this thing is heavier than I thought.” He grumbled. Sivan chuckled.

“Yeah. She weights about eighteen pounds… without ammo.” He informed. Jacobs nodded.

“I can feel that.” He agreed. He hefted the weapon to his shoulder and shakily held it to aim down sights. “This is pretty hard to hold steady.” Sivan nodded and shrugged.

“Well, its a machine gun. It ain’t known for pinpoint accuracy.” He retorted. “Its more at home hosing an area down, putting so many rounds down range that, you’re bound to hit something.” Jacobs went along with the man’s line of reasoning and nodded, hoping that Sivan would let him put the weapon down sooner. He handed it back to Sivan, who took it and placed it back in the case.

“Let’s see an M4 and a UMP.” Jacobs said. Sivan smiled and nodded. He waved his men off to get more crates. The two men came back with two small boxes, similar to the first but significantly less bulky. Sivan took the cases and laid them down on the ground. He popped the largest one open, revealing a full length M4.

“This is the majority of your shipment…” He reached down and picked the mag’less rifle up from the case. “The firing mechanism has been swapped from the civilian, single fire only model, to the standard selection switch on most military weapons. Safe, single fire, burst fire, and automatic.” He handed the weapon to Jacobs, who grabbed the rifle and shouldered it.

“This is more like it,” He commented as he flicked through the firing modes. “Much lighter.” Sivan chuckled and nodded.

“It fires the same round as the SAW. 5.56x45 NATO.” He declared. “It’s a small bullet, but it’s got a lot of powder behind it. All that gunpowder sends these things flying. The high speed combined with their small size make them good armor penetrators. Not the most powerful round out there, by a long shot, but it’s good enough for the job.” Jacobs raised an eyebrow.

“Really? What’s the most powerful round you can get?” He asked. Sivan stroked his goatee.

“Well, the largest one you can get legally as a civilian is 40 millimeters. It’s for a Bofors Anti-Aircraft gun. That can punch through a cinderblock wall like a gram-cracker.” Sivan informed. “But you could get larger from a guy like me. 120 millimeter tank rounds are the largest I’ve gotten for someone. Poor bastard blew himself up in his basement while handling them. Set one off by accident and the whole basement started cooking off.” Jacobs winced.

“Yikes.” He muttered. “Anyway, let me see the UMP.” He said, handing the M4 back to Sivan. Sivan took it and placed it back in the case, and picked up the UMP45 in-exchange.

“Here you are.” He handed the SMG to Jacobs, who began inspecting it just like the M4. “I went ahead and got you the .45 ACP version, instead of the 9x19 millimeter parabellum version. As this blessed country once said, nothing short of a forty five will do!” Jacobs nodded and looked Sivan in the eye.

“.45 ACP, that’s the-uh, the same round the 1911 fires, am I right?” He asked. Sivan smirked and nodded.

“Yes, sir, it is.” He replied. “So, what do ya think?” He asked. Jacobs nodded and handed the weapon back to Sivan.

“I’ll take the lot, plus ammo.”

Dave hadn’t expressed to anyone why he was in such a good mood as of late. He knew a certain group girls would try to stop him if they found out. So, he kept it to himself. But that also meant he had to function in normal life, despite his supernatural galavanting. When Octavia asked him to the dance, he couldn’t turn the poor girl down. He’d just look like an ass, and it might arouse suspicion if he wasn’t in attendance. He had no choice but to accept the girl’s offer, and take the night off from being the rider. So here he was, dressed in a monkey suit, awkwardly trying to make conversation with this girl he barely knew.

It was going about as well as expected. Luke warm. She was asking a lot of questions, and he was answering them before asking his own. She seemed really disinterested. One long look into her eyes was all it took for him to see it. She had asked him because she thought he was some broken soul, and perhaps her romance could fix him. But, it seemed as though he was more whole than either of them expected. After an hour at the dance, she’d already left to be with someone else. She apologized, but he just smiled and shook his head. He was fine with it. They obviously weren’t going to be a thing. After all, what would she do if she found out?

A droning hum in one of Dave’s ears made the side of his face tingle. He knew this feeling. Something bad was coming. Dave was glad he’d planned for this. He’d stuffed a duffle bag with his normal clothes up into the ceiling tiles of the mens bathroom. He quickly and calmly walked out of the gym and marched his way over to the toilets, undoing his tie as he walked. He tossed it carelessly behind him with one hand before he entered. He scanned the inside of the restroom. Empty. Good. He locked the door and removed his jacket. After climbing up onto the sink he slid a ceiling tile aside. He grabbed the hidden bag and dropped it to the floor. There was no way in hell he was gonna let shit go down here.

A group of eighteen men, all dressed in black combat suits, quickly and quietly marched up behind the CHS building. They all had weapons drawn and flashlights on. There were fifteen people with M4’s, two with UMP’s, and one with a SAW. If Alison’s plans went through, this was going to be a blood bath. She had chosen a school dance as her ignition point. If she struck here, surely others would come in lieu of the police. When they did, her men would be ready. The point man nodded, prompting one of the others to lower their rifle and pull out a pair of bolt cutters. They strolled over to the door and cut the thick chains that bound the door shut.

The rusty metal clattered to the ground, allowing them to push the door open. With the school’s main event taking place on the other side of the building, they would have the chance to fan out and get close before being spotted. All they had to do was get through the long hallway at the back of the school. As the group pushed forward, guns leveled and flashlights shining brightly, they were forced to double up on each other in the confined space. The men froze when a bathroom door opened, and a brown haired high school boy stepped out in a black biker outfit.

“Evening gents.” He spat in a low tone. The point man wasted no time in dropping him, putting three bullets into him before the boy flopped. Well, so much for not being seen. He looked back at his men and gave them a ‘what the fuck’ look. They all just shrugged for a moment, before quickly snapping their guns to whatever was going on behind the point man. The point man turned around, only to see the boy he’d just dropped slowly levitating off his back, and onto his feet. His skin began to smoke on the way up. His eyelids shriveled and shrunk, his lips curled back, and his hair fell out. As he settled onto his feet, his skin charred black, with red cracks revealing the soft flesh below. His eyes glowed orange, and his hands became engulfed by flames. The fire spread, but not up his body like normal. It spread out. The hot gases began forming massive, clawed hands, with longer than normal forearms.

The thing held its arms up to its sides, its fiery talons gouging and melting the metal lockers on either side of the hall. The mouth suddenly fell open, causing the skin and muscle around the lips and cheeks to tear and fall away from the face, and it released an ungodly howl. Its tongue flopped about in its mouth like an animal. The point man began firing, this time in full auto. He managed about half a mag, until the monster swiped one of its flaming hands at him. The lengthy claws sliced through the man’s midsection, cauterizing the wound as it cut. The man fell into two pieces, with his partially burned insides falling out all over the floor. The point man, though cut in half, began screaming. He tried dragging himself away; only further disemboweling himself as his burning insides fell out and dragged behind him. He was put out of his misery when the other hand quickly shipped him across the back of the skull, exploding the back of his head. The monster grunted and growled throatily as it extended its arms back out to its sides. The men all stared at the thing, guns pointed at it, and only occasionally stealing mortified glanced at one another. The thing took two sudden steps forward and roared again, causing more cracked flesh to fall off the bone.

The men all turned and began running, fumbling and pushing each other to escape the hideous beast. The beast chased them with arms extended out to its sides, making long, burning gashes in the metal lockers wherever it went. Occasionally one would try to fire at the beast, causing him to roar and lose more flesh. At one point an eyeball even fell out, revealing a singular orb of burning light inside the impossibly deep and dark socket. Those that lagged behind, or got knocked down, were swiftly and brutally struck down with its massive claws of fire. Before they could leave the building, at least five gunmen were dead. They came to be the hunters, but they were leaving as the hunted. They raced out of the doors and pilled into their trucks. The thing following them managed to slash big hot gashes into one of their vehicles before they pulled off. And they sighed in relief, thinking they gotten away.

The gym was a buzz with commotion. Everyone had heard the noises, but no one knew what was going on. Rainbow Dash decided she was going to sneak off and find out. She exited the gym through the side doors, taking her out to the soccer field. She raced toward the front of the school, and peaked around the corner to check if it was clear. To her shock and horror, and burning figure dressed in black clothing was marching toward a black Mustang with burning tires, and green headlights. Something was off about it. It wore tall black boots, and black jeans. It had a black leather jacket and hood, along with spiked, long leather gloves… Her eyes grew twelve sizes as the realization hit her. She knew this outfit. David wore it to school everyday. She looked closely at its burning head, and saw a pockmarked skull. She had no idea how Dave had gotten this power, but she was sure it had something to do with dark magic.

The fire around the head extinguished as it ducked inside the car and shut the door. The Mustang sped off in a hurry, hurrying up the street toward the city.

Dave hurried up the street toward the city, rapidly gaining on the three military trucks that were trying to flee. The men realized what was chasing them, and began firing out the back of the truck. The bullets sparked and shattered off the glossy surface of the car, not even leaving a dent in the rapidly approaching vehicle. Some tried aiming for the grill, some tried the tires. But the Mustang wouldn’t slow down. Until finally, it collided with the back of the rearmost truck. The sudden impact caused the truck to lurch forward, knocking one of the occupants out the back. He clung on to the bed of the truck for dear life, only to be crushed as the car rammed the truck again. The Mustang ran over the crumpled body of the man, sending it up in flames. The Mustang swerved off to the left, into the oncoming lane, and pulled along side the truck’s rear wheels. It suddenly jerked to the right, slamming into the rear left side of the truck. The muscle car fell back and let physics do the rest. The truck began wobbling and fishtailing, until it finally began tumbling end over end.

The men inside were thrown around violently, being smashed and crushed by both the truck and its contents. The truck came to rest on its right side, sliding down the road while occupying both lanes. The truck exploded in half as the Mustang plowed through it, sending bits and pieces of bodies and metal everywhere. Those in the cab were burned alive upon realizing their doors were basically welded shut. The Mustang crashed yet another truck, this time pulling up around the front left side and wrapping it around a pole. The diesel tanks exploded, sending the truck up in a ball of fire, and leaving more death behind. The Mustang slammed into the back of the final truck, blowing out the rear tires and sending the truck thundering into a concrete building.

A single man leaped out of the truck after impact, and the Mustang slammed into the rear of the truck once again. The tanks of fuel exploded, creating a bright ball of fire. The sole survivor hit the deck and covered his head. He could feel the immense heat against his back as the truck went up in flames. After the shockwave evaporated the man rolled onto his back, gazing upon the massive plume of fire rising from the destroyed truck. He spotted a single, charred arm hanging out of the bed, fingers curled and gnarled by the heat. Thats when he saw it. A burning skull with fiery eyes, attached to a black body. The man’s eyes widened, and he tried to get up, only to realize his leg was broken. He began crawling across his back, trying to keep as far away from the beast as possible.

“Please, god please. Oh holy father, have mercy on me. I detest my sins if having offended thee.” He prayed. The demon inched closer and closer, until it finally came close enough to grab him. It pulled him face to face with it, and as he stared into its blazing eyes it spoke.

“He can’t hear you.” It said in a slow, hoarse, echoing whisper. “God’s not listening… Look into my eyes.” He whimpered and screamed as his skin started to burn. He swore he was on fire, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away to make sure. The demon’s mouth slowly opened, and it began sucking in hot embers and smoke from the air. The man’s mind and body were plagued by tremendous pain, making him break out in tears. The liquids gradually evaporated as his flesh was seared black. The man’s pained screams gradually tampered off into choking groans and wheezing as his flesh fuzed to bone. Then he finally went silent. The flames extinguished, and the demon inhaled the last of the smoke and embers, before snapping its jaws shut.