Let Them Eat Vengeance

by SomeRandoWithTime

Rating: mature
Tags: Death, Human, Gore, Dark, Thriller, Original Character, Equestria Girls, Tragedy, Main 7 (EqG), Profanity, Violence, Crossover, Sex
Length: 20073

Ever had a thirst for revenge? An urge to give someone what they have coming? You're not alone.

The destroying angel or angel of death in the Hebrew Bible is an entity sent out by Yahweh on several occasions to kill enemies of the Israelites. In 2 Samuel 24:15, he kills the inhabitants of Jerusalem. The angel is referred to under various terms, including "destroyer", and “destroying angel" is found in Job 33:22 and in Proverbs 16:14 in the plural, "Messengers of death".
The Vengeful Harbingers of Death, descended from the lineage of The Destroying Angels, are released upon the world to seek retribution for those who’s soul can find no peace. He who spills innocent blood beware, their devotion shows no bounds. Run as you may, you will meet your end all the same. The Reapers of rage will claim your soul, no matter the crime, no matter the effort. The unforgivable and unforgiving shall be vanquished, by equally unforgiving angels of fire. The merciless shall be shown no mercy, no leniency, and no peace. All who are wicked shall burn, and only the flesh of the truly-repentant shall be spared.

Published 2019-12-03 02:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-12-22 20:36:57 UTC

Ch.1

Let me tell you a story about Alison Grace. She was tall, blonde with pink eyes. She liked to keep up appearances, so she always monitored her weight. She was known as the Queen, The Princess. She was also known as, The Bitch of East Canterlot. By the age of sixteen, she was the leader of a major crime syndicate. At age seven teen, she took over the town and made a mafia. This mafia dealt in many things. Weapons dealings, both civilian and military. Narcotics; prescription and illegal. And finally, loan sharking. She was basically untouchable in school, since she could make your family vanish. But, this story isn’t about her escapades. No no, you see, this story is about her downfall. It all started with a double cross.

“Robert Joseph did, what?” She growled. She was sitting in her chair in her office, legs crossed with a red pencil dress on. She kicked her one foot back and forth ever so slightly, flashing her black heel wedges. The man before her tugged on his shirt collar and gulped.

“He-uh… Started selling his product to keep the profit to himself.” He informed. Alison slowly inhaled through her nose and ran her blood red nails through her wavy golden locks, shutting her eyes for the briefest of moments. The stare she returned with was bone chilling. She had lowered her chin, and was glaring past her eyebrows. Everything about her screamed that she was ready to pounce. She licked her lips, like a predator anticipating a meal. Her posture was leaned slightly forward, with her shoulders arched. Her talons were tightly interlaced, making her knuckles turn white. Her arched eyebrows were sloped down toward the space between her eyes. It sent chills down her associates’ spines.

“Well…” She muttered in a low, soothing tone. “I guess we know one family we won’t be hearing from again. Kill them.” She ordered. The hence men nodded and turned to leave.

“But leave Robert for last. Let him run a little bit, I want him to feel the hope of escape crumble as you finally catch him.” She sneered sadistically. The man before her turned and nodded again.

“How many should we kill? Just the immediate family?” He asked.

“All of them, Nick.” Alison said with a sly smirk. “If they are blood related to him, I want them dead.” Nick nodded once more and gave her a two fingered salute.

“On it, boss.” He said politely. Nick slinked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Alison slowly craned her head to one side, cracking her neck in the process, and straightened her neck with a long exhale.

“Gregory! Fredrick!” She snapped. The two men saluted. One was short and fat, the other was tall and lanky.

“Yes ma’am!” They yelped in unison. Alison slowly turned her head toward them and stared them down with an unnerving faux-calm stare.

“I want you to go to our connections in the CPD. Tell them to back off, we can’t have them in our way for this.” She snarled.

“On it, Ma’am!” They shouted. The two bolted from the room, leaving Alison alone with one last associate. She opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. She tapped one out and pinched it between her lips.

“Jacobs. Light me.” She ordered grouchily. The man walked up beside her, pulled out a box of matches from his coat pocket, and struck one. He held it under her cig as she puffed on it to get it going. Once it was lit, Jacobs shook the match out and placed it in Alison’s ash tray. She took a long drag and leaned back in her chair. She stared at the ceiling as she let out a big plume of smoke. “Can I ask you something, Jacobs?” The man in question flinched, but quickly composed himself.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything at all.” He agreed. Alison giggled and sat up, glancing over at him with bedroom eyes.

“Don’t say anything, now.” She took a puff of her cigarette and glanced momentarily at his groin. “I might just ask you about your dick size.” She mused. Jacobs coughed uncomfortably. While she was certainly a… well developed lady, with rounded curves and all, he couldn’t stop thinking about her age.

“But seriously, I want to ask you something.” She leaned her cigarette up against her glass ash tray, dangling the smoldering end over the tray to stop her desk from burning. “What do you think of the world I’ve built?” She asked.

Jacobs raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me, but, I don’t follow.” Alison sighed.

“Well, I keep getting double crossed like this. Has my reputation not scared people enough?” She asked. She flipped her hand at the air and shook her head. “I mean, I’ve been compared to Irma Grese, of all people! So, where do these people get the nerve to cross me?” She asked. Jacobs lowered his head and gazed at the floor.

“I don’t know, Ma’am.” He answered. Alison smiled at him and cocked a head at him.

“You’re a good man Jacobs.” She complemented. “Tell me, are you married? By any chance?” Jacobs shook his head.

“No ma’am. Just dating someone, that’s all.” He answered unsteadily.

“Really?” She said with a fake pout. “What a shame. I would’ve gladly let you take me when I turned eighteen next month.” She licked her lips seductively and lowered her chin as she flinched the ashes of her cigarette.

“Though, I should warn you, I’m more experienced than I look.” She purred. If it were anybody but her, Jacobs would’ve commented on how gross that was coming from a high school girl. Jacobs didn’t say anything, and just let Alison continue her smoke. She leaned back in her seat and cackled. She always got a bit… frisky whenever someone crossed her. It was like she fed off her own sadism. Jacobs just hoped she could control herself enough to leave him be, though it seemed unlikely she’d control herself for long.

David and his father Kevin were out at the drag strip, testing their new Pro Nitrous car. The car was long and low to the ground, with backward swept features to reduce drag. An encased blower poked out of the hood, looking like a jet engine mounted on the hood. The front tires were thin, but the rear sets were fat in comparison. Dual wheelie bars protruded from the back of the car, anchored firmly to the frame on two points, making a triangular shaped truss to hold the wheels. Four exhaust pipes rose up and back behind the front wheels. The fiberglass shell on the frame was designed to look like a 68 Camaro, and was painted a glossy black. They came at night and rented out the drag strip for privacy reasons, and they were getting ready to send her off. After a many minutes changing spark plugs, adjusting the massive twin turbos, and packing the parachute back in, they had one thing left to do. Prep the asphalt.

The was normally done by a whole crew during professional events. But, because this was a private session, they had to do it themselves. This involved sweeping the racing surface free of dirt, rubber and gravel. Then washing the surface free of oil and grease. Then drying the track off. And finally, apply some special chemicals to the road to improve grip. Dave and his father were still in the sweeping phase. They didn’t have the large equipment to do this quickly, so they both brought wide push brooms to do the job. They talked while doing the job, and their conversation went as follows:

“So…” Kevin began. “You meet any girls?” Dave rolled his eyes glanced over at his father.

“Really?” He cringed. Kevin shrugged.

“What? A man’s not allowed to take interest in his son’s love life?” He asked. Dave shook his head.

“Not being that damn blunt, you can’t.” Dave remarked.

“Ah, fuck yourself.” Kevin said playfully. “But nah, seriously though, you haven’t met anyone?” Dave sighed.

“Nope.” He answered. Kevin stopped sweeping and stared at his son.

“How is that possible?” He questioned. “You're every bit as kick-ass as your old man. You should have girls swooning over you.”

Dave cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Welp, times have changed. Ladies may have liked the rebellious bad boy aesthetic when you were young, but now they just assume you're a violent prick.” Kevin chuckled.

“Well, you got the prick part down!” He quipped. Dave smirked and glared at his father.

“Fuck you, old man.” He prodded. Kevin laughed and put his hands up.

“Alright, alright, you ain’t a prick…” Kevin admitted. Dave nodded and went back to his work. Kevin pretended to sweep for a second, then gave Dave a sideways glance. “You the whole damn cactus.” Dave turned around and swatted at his father with the handle of the broom. His father dodged the first attack, then started blocking after the second. Their escapades quickly descended into sword fighting with the broom handles, giggling like a couple of idiots.

“I see you are trained in the way of the sword.” Kevin quoted. “But unfortunately for you…” Kevin swapped hands.

“I am not left handed.” Kevin finished. Dave swapped his hands and continued fighting as well.

“I’m not left handed either.” Dave quipped back. The two went at it for a few more seconds, until they noticed a pair of cars pull up behind their drag car. Two got out of a silver sedan, and the one who appeared to be the leader stepped out of a black 2018 Mustang. Three men in black clothes stood upon the edge to the tarmac. The leader wore a leather jacket with a hoodie and black gloves. His head was held high, and his shoulders were held firmly back. The father son duo decided to check it out. Kevin went first, with Dave following a little behind. The two groups strolled toward each other, with Dave and Kevin looking a little more confused than the other.

“Excuse me, this is a private session.” Kevin informed. He stopped in his tracks while the three men continued toward them. “Can I help you gentlemen out with any-” Kevin was cut short by a firm clock to the noggin.

“Dad!?” Dave shouted. He, being taller than his father, decided he need to do something to help. He leapt forward, and smacked the man who punch his father, with the handle of his broom. This sent the other two after him. Dave conked one over the head with the broom, but he wasn’t able to get the second one, who had bolted for him at the the same time. As a result, Dave was caught from behind, and put in a choke hold. Dave kicked the guy in front of him, planting his foot in the man’s groin. This caused Dave and the man choking him to stumble backwards a bit, but the mans grip never loosened. The man who’d punched Dave’s father got up, and clocked Dave across the head. Dave fell to the ground as he was released from the choke, and gasped for air.

The side of Dave’s face throbbed with pain, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He spat on the ground, and a gooey glob of blood and spit smacked against the tarmac. The man who had just punched Dave gestured toward his father, and the two other men picked him up and pulled him to his feet. Kevin groaned and shook his head, blood fanning out from his nose.

“What do you want?!” Kevin barked. The apparent leader rolled his shoulders and sighed.

“We’re here to teach Robert a lesson. Nothing personal.” The man spat. He glanced over to see Dave shakily rising to his feet, and chuckled. “Or maybe it is.” He remarked. The man suddenly drew a pistol from his jacket, and started unloading. Dave’s body twitched as each shot hit like a burning hammer. After a few shots, Dave dropped to the ground like a stone.

“David!” Kevin screamed. He struggled in his captor’s grasp, trying to help his son anyway he could. He almost broke free, but the two men managed to pull it together at the last second.

The leader turned and smirked at Kevin. “Oh you don’t like that?” Kevin gritted his teeth at the man.

“Well, you should’ve seen what we did to your wife.” He said with a smile. “Gotta say, me and the boys have always loved milfs. And she was the queen of em.” Kevin tried to pull free and rush the man once more.

“You son of a bitch!” Kevin spat. Again, the men restrained him. The leader rolled his and cackled. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll see your wife and baby boy again shortly.” The leader rose his pistol, and at point blank range, blew Kevin’s brain case open. The two men dropped the body and joined their leader in a hearty laugh.

“You hear this guy?” The leader asked, pointing at Kevin’s body. “You son of a bitch! What a fucking shmuck!” The three laughed at his crack.

“His wife was smokin’ though.” One of his two stooges said.

The other nodded and decided to add his two cents. “Yeah, and she squealed like a pig, the tight little broad.” The group laughed again. The leader sighed.

“It’s a shame we were ordered to wack ‘em all.” He commented. “I wouldn’t have minded keeping her for myself. What a great piece of ass.” The group burst out laughing again. But amidst their laughter, they’d totally forgotten about David’s body, which was currently rising to his feet behind the leader. Dave’s eyes glared at the back of the man’s head, glowing bright orange in the low light. He couldn’t hear, his ears were still ringing from the gunshots. But he didn’t need to, to know he’d been shot by them. Dave lunged, grabbing the leader’s arm and pointing the barrel of his own gun at his face. A brief look of panic set in as the man realized he was on the receiving end of his own pistol. Dave forced him to pull the trigger, blowing the man’s brain matter across the drag strip. The two gentlemen who remained staggered back in surprise, and fumbled to reach for their own guns in their jackets.

Dave quickly took the gun and pointed it at one of the men. He nailed the man in the right side of the chest. He turn turned the gun on the last man standing, who’d just managed to get his own gun out. Dave fired and a bullet slammed into the man’s gut. The man dropped his gun and clenched his stomach, falling to his knees in the process. Once on the ground, the man had his skull popped like a water melon by, the very pissed of, David Kaufman. Upon firing the killing round, the slide to the gun pulled back and remained opened. It was empty. Dave shakily dropped the gun, eyes never ceasing their glare. That is, until he noticed the fourth body laying on the ground. Dave walked over, and silently stood over his dead father. Dave saw the damage to his father’s head, and his blood boiled.

He gritted his teeth and howled at the inky black sky. In his partially deafened state, he couldn't hear how monstrous his pained cries sounded. He stomped and clenched his fists angrily. Tears poured from his eyes and his face became red as a tomato. He burst a blood vessel during one of his screaming fits, turning his left eye bright red. He wanted revenge. He glanced over and the Black Mustang the leader had come in. It was still running. The license plate was familiar too, Reading ‘TH3 B1TCH’ boldly on front. He now had a target. He glanced down at his clothes. His grey shirt was bloody and full of holes. His black jeans and tall boots, however, were unscaved. He looked down at the ring leader he’d just killed. He was wearing a slim leather jacket with a hood attached to it. He also had leather gloves that reached up to the elbow. The gloves had studs randomly placed along the outside of the forearm, and the back of the hand. Dave snorted to keep his nose from running.

“Nice jacket.” He muttered. He took his shirt off, and bent down to take the man’s clothes off. When he was done, Dave was now wearing the man’s shirt, jacket, and gloves. Combined with his tall, black combat boots, and the black jeans tucked into them, he looked like some kind of biker gang member. Dave walked off and grabbed an extra container of gasoline. He came back and dragged the three bodies into a pile, throwing his old shirt on there as well. His father was excluded from the burn pile, however. Dave poured gas over the henchmen, and patted himself down for something to light it with. He snapped his fingers when he realized he didn’t have anything. His fingers sparked upon doing so, garnering his attention. He snapped again, and more sparks came. This time, he put all his focus on it, and snapped his fingers again. The tip of his thumb caught fire, much to Dave’s surprise.

He didn’t wait long, though. He lowered his thumb to the gasoline soaked ground and lit it. The pool of gas caught fire, and he realized he was standing in it just a moment too late. Fire engulfed him… but he felt nothing. He went largely unaffected by the flames. He looked up at the burning bodies, and began cackling. The sight of the burning corpses excited him. He wanted more. He wanted to make more bad guys, more guilty souls, suffer. His skin started to smoke and his eyes flared orange. He literally doubled over laughing as his flesh burned away, leaving behind a rather pissed off looking skull, atop a bare skeleton wearing pristine clothing. The small studs on his gloves lengthened to a full centimeter long, and his cackling began to die down. The flaming skull lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the Mustang. He stepped out from the flames and marched toward the car, leaving a short trail of burning gas as the last of it burned off his boot’s rubber soles. He paused when his foot kicked something. He looked down, and realized he’d kicked his father’s leg. His father stared up at the night sky lifeless, face still wearing a look of shock and concern.

For a moment, the skull looked a little sad for the man. Then he knelt down and shut his father’s eyes. Dave stood back up and marched toward the car, and hopped in, causing the car to transform just like him. The car booked it, full speed, in reverse, and slid around with a quick J-turn. Now facing the correct way, the car lunged forward, bolting with a blistering speed. The front and rear plates both popped off, as if on command, and fell by the entrance to the drag strip. The Spirit of Vengeance was now set free upon the night.

The people of Canterlot High were all numb after the events of the previous night. The Bitch had just wiped a whole family off the map. The students had their run-ins with magic, but at least that magic hadn’t killed anyone yet. But the will of one woman, one, nonmagical, woman managed to do what magic couldn’t. And did it two hundred times better, in a single night. Of a family of two hundred fifty one people, only one got out alive. It was suspected that there was four people involved in one husband/father’s death. They killed the father, then one of the four supposedly killed the other three and burned their bodies. The one member of the family who lived? A boy who was a student at CHS. A boy by the name of David Kaufman. Both he and his father were known motor heads, taking up hobbies in everything from drag racing to amateur grand prix racing. His father was a twenty time, Pro Nitrous drag racing champion. David looked like he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps, starting his driving career off with four wins of his own. Now his future was uncertain, with no one to guide him into adulthood.

No one was even sure they’d see the poor boy again. Not even the teachers could focus enough to get work done that week. A majority of the week was spent as day long therapy sessions, where each class would just sit and talk about the good memories they had with David. They couldn’t believe it took them this long to realize how genuinely nice he was. He always held the door for people, never threw a fit. He never asked for appreciation for it either. He just enjoyed seeing people happy, and tried his best to brighten people’s day; though he wasn’t overbearingly energetic like Pinkie Pie. Now the school felt a little emptier.

Which is why everything was shaken up when a metaphorical ghost walked into the school, revealing himself two weeks after the incident. His usually happy face was dead looking, with depressed rage painted all over it. His posture, his demeanor, his gate; everything but the style of his clothes had seriously changed. His usual lax posture was now ram rod straight, with shoulders held firmly back. His casual strolling had turned into long strides of purpose and intent. Upside, he looked a little taller. Downside, people rushed out of his way like they were staring down a moving freight train. He was a bit more on the irritable side, making cynical/sarcastic remarks often in conversation. That is, when he would decided to talk at all.

His knack for a sharp tongue came to show when Sunset bumped into him. She was pulling things from her locker, getting ready to leave for the day. She grabbed her bag and made for the doors. She lingered close to the lockers on the right side of the hallway, which had several adjoining halls running up its length. She collided with him head on as he popped out from one of the adjoined halls. In fairness, it was mostly her fault. She was lingering a little too close to the wall, so there was no way he could’ve seen her until he stepped out into the main hall. Sunset shook her head and looked up at him. Upon realizing who it was, and seeing his startled gaze, she immediately started to apologize. Rather profusely apologize.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry!” She started. “I was too close to the wall. I should’ve been more careful. I’m- Just so sorry about that.” Dave rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, calm down.” He ordered. “If that’s your reaction to a minor accident, I don’t want to see what you’d do if you accidentally cracked someone’s head open.” He turned and began walking toward the doors with his bag over his shoulder.

“Jesus, fuck me, what a response.” He remarked sarcastically. Sunset blinked, feeling a little insulted by his comment. But then something hit her. She hadn’t gotten any flashes off him. She jogged up behind him and grabbed him by the wrist. She found herself not only being partially dragged through the hall as Dave slowed to a stop, but grabbing his arm like a doofus as absolutely nothing happened. “What the-?! I’m fine, so please don’t apologize anymore!” Sunset stared at him quizzically for a few seconds. Why weren’t her abilities working on him? He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, tearing her from her deep thought.

“Hello? Why are you clinging to me like a man on a sinking ship?” He asked. Sunset let him go and her face flushed with embarrassment.

“I-It’s not important. Sorry for bothering you.” She apologized. Dave’s face turned into a deadpan stare.

“What did I just say about apologizing again?” He asked. Before she could answer he turned and shook his head in annoyance. “God, if I hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ again today, I’m gonna slam my head in a car door.”

“-And that’s pretty much what happened.” Sunset explained. She and the gang were all gathered around a table at sugar cube corner, with the other girls listening to her recanted tale of the phantom boy.

Rainbow kicked back in her chair and raised and eyebrow. “Sheesh… Talk about a hard-ass.” The other girls nod.

“I get why he’s so angry all the time. But that really ain’t no excuse to snap atcha.” Applejack said in her southern drawl.

“I’ve spoken with him a few times.” Fluttershy said quietly. “He’s, um, very blunt, to say the least.” Rarity scoffed.

“Oh, you would BELIEVE how uncouth he is.” She flared. “I accidentally sprayed him while applying some perfume, and he started coughing and gagging like he’d been sprayed by a skunk!”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s a normal response to getting perfumed outta no where.” Rainbow deadpanned. Rarity hmph’ed and crossed her arms.

“Well, he could’ve made less of a show of it.” She muttered.

Pinkie sighed. “Yeah, he’s become a real downer.” She deflated. “Like, when I threw him that welcome back party after school. He never even showed.” Twilight sighed.

“Pinkie, his whole family just died. Not even you would be in a partying mood after that.” She postured. Sunset growled and shook her head.

“You guys are missing the point!” She snapped. “I mean, yeah, he was a little harsh. But that wasn’t what I was getting at. I’m more concerned with why my abilities didn’t work.” Rarity leaned forward and placed a hand onSunset’s shoulder.

“Oh, relax darling.” She spoke in a soothing tone. “It’s magic. You’ve said it yourself, we have no idea how it works. It’s probably just some… hiccup. There’s no need to fret.” She eased. Sunset sighed and smiled tiredly.

“You’re right…” She said defeatedly. “Sorry for getting all worked up. It’s just a little weird is all. I guess the whole encounter put me on edge.”

“Well, ya. It’s not everyday someone bitches you out just because you said sorry.” Rainbow remarked.

Ch.2

Rainbow Dash was out on the soccer pitch after school. She frequented the field often, but this time she was by herself. She was practicing her kicks in the hopes that she might get an extra edge on the Shadow Bolts. After she sunk another goal in the net she ran over to get the ball. She dribbled the ball a bit, then paused when she spotted a tall figure walking down the sidewalk nearby the field. She’d recognize that neat brown hair anywhere. Dave Kaufmann. He was carrying his bag over his shoulder like usual, with a dead-soul look in his eyes, as per usual. She marched over to the edge of the field and glared at the back of the man’s head.

“You!” She hissed. Dave turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Dave responded with a thumbs up and turned around to keep walking.

“Hey!” She shouted. He turned around and looked at her again, looking slightly more annoyed than before. “I said, I have a bone to pick with you, asshole!”

“Oh, I heard you.” Dave informed. “But I ain’t about to ask you why.” He said with a shake of his head.

“You were really rude to Sunset!” She barked.

Dave deadpanned and gave her another thumbs up. “Cool story, bro.” Rainbow growled.

“Do you even care?! You used to be super chill!” Rainbow scolded. Dave nodded and pointed at the air behind her.

“You see that?” She glanced between him and the direction he was pointing. Dave slowly dragged his finger across the air, making Dash turn even further to see what she thought was a moving object.

“No, where? What am I looking for?” She asked. Dave lowered his finger and nodded.

“Those are my fucks. They just flew away.” He quipped dryly. Rainbow’s eye twitched.

“Oh-ho-ho!” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Dave even harder. “So you think you’re being cute?” Dave shrugged.

“I thought I was being facetious, but whatever.” He remarked. Rainbow raised an eyebrow at him, looking a bit confused at what he’d said.

“Fa-what now?” She questioned. Dave held up a finger and reached over for his bag. He unzipped it and reached inside. He pulled out a small book and looked over at Rainbow Dash.

“Catch.” He muttered. He tossed the book over to her, and she snagged it out of the air. Upon looking at the cover she realized it was a dictionary. “The word is facetious. Look it up.” Rainbow flipped the book open and turned to the F section of the book. The word was right at the beginning of the section, with the rest of the words that started with the letters Fa. She read the definition and glowered at Dave.

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny.” She grumbled. Dave sighed.

“Come now, don’t look so mirthful.” He said sarcastically. Rainbow flipped the book open again, but before she could find it he continued. “You don’t look the overzealous type. Though, you do have a bit of zeal about you. Perhaps you could benefit from some leisure time.” Rainbow paused, slammed the dictionary shut and shook her head.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you!?” She snapped. Dave smirked and chuckled.

“Hey, she finally gets it!” He jested. Rainbow threw the book at him. It landed on his chest with a smack, making him flinch a bit. The book fell from his chest into his open hands, and he stuffed it back in his bag.

“I could kick your ass right here on the soccer field.” She said through gritted teeth. Dave zipped up his bag and looked her square in the eye.

“Yeah, but you won’t, though.” He commented. Rainbow cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, yeah? What make’s you so sure?” She asked. Dave rolled his eyes.

“Because the principle is standing right behind you.” He informed. He glance over her head, making her flinch and turn around sheepishly. She quickly realized that no one was there, and when she turned back around she saw Dave walking away. Rainbow gritted her teeth.

“I’ll show you.” She grumbled. She grabbed her soccer ball, placed it on the ground, and lined up her shot. She hooked the ball into the air with her foot, sending it soaring in Dave’s direction. The shot looked like it was going to nail Dave square in the back of the head… Until he stepped off the curb. The ball, narrowly missing its target, was now on a direct course for the parking lot. She winced as the ball harshly bounce off the hood of a blue Honda Civic Type R. More specifically, her Honda Civic Type R. She flinched as the car alarm started going off, and let her shoulders sag with defeat. “Awe, man. So not cool.”

She jogged off the field to go get her keys from the locker room, and when she came back minutes later, Dave was gone from sight. She jogged over to her car and examined it. There were no dents, but the ball had scuffed the paint job a bit. She groaned. Now she was going to have to buff that out when she got home.

Dave stepped through the door of his home and dropped his bag beside the door. The silence of the home was oppressive. Not a sound could be heard anywhere. Not in the den. Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen. Dave had only been aloud back into his home a few days ago, after the crime scene cleanup crew had finished their job. Dave wasn’t aware of the incident that had occurred here, until he pulled up outside the next day. His poor mother had been home alone. She died with no one but the savage thugs around her. Dave only realized how much he’d lost later on in the day, when the police informed him of the death toll. Being eighteen, he was too old to be put into the foster care system. Of course, being the only survivor meant he was the sole inheritor of everything his family owned. Their money. Their belongings. Even their life insurance payouts. A rather insensitive lawyer had told him he was set for life. But none of this soothed David in any way. He still had to pay for the funerals, and the burials. And their money & belongings only served to remind him of the fact that he was all alone.

The funeral/burial was three weeks away. He decided to buy them all a tomb to bury them all together. But for now, it was just him and the house. He shut the front door behind him, and just stood there like a statue. He lingered there, standing still as a statue, unblinking, for what had to be fifteen minutes. A whole flood of memories and emotions had consumed him, and he was still trying to process it all. Finally he blinked, and he made a right hand turn. He cut through his living room and made his way over to a small, three stair, staircase. He stepped down slowly, entering into his families den area. The walls were covered in stained wood panels, with dark green carpets and a hardwood ceiling. A couch and recliner sat in the middle of the den, facing a wall where a jumbo TV sat.

This room was a particularly strong source of grief for him. It’s the room his mother had finally passed in. Her struggle began in the kitchen, which was connected to the back of the living room. Her torture started there, but she momentarily managed to break free, and ran into the den through the living room. There she was caught once again, and her suffering continued until she met her climactic end with a gunshot wound to the head. Dave felt his face grow hot. The mental images of his mother being defiled and murdered drove his rage through the roof. He glanced at a door at the back of the den. He slowly strolled over and opened the solid wood door. The next room was a stark contrast to the one before it. It was mostly unfinished, with concrete floors and open fiberglass insulation wedged between wood supports.

This was the garage. His mother must’ve fled to the den in the hopes that she could escape through here. The garage was large for the house, with taller-than-usual-ceilings, and a wide open floor space. The Mustang Dave had procured was up on a hydraulic lift, and secured down with heavy duty straps. The rear axle and differential had been removed, leaving the rear end without wheels. Using the knowledge he acquired while working on dragsters with his father, Dave was upgrading the Mustang to his liking. He noticed two things while driving this car, immediately. One was the power delivery, and the other was the rear end’s tendency to break loose. He knew exactly why this was happening.

While Mustang’s were good sport/muscle cars, there was a reason they were so cheap and available. To keep costs low, they used old technology for the rear setup. The old style differential made for uneven power delivery. On top of that, they still used solid rear axles. This meant your tires were not only giving uneven torque to the asphalt, but if one tire hit a bump, the other one would be affected as well, leading to spinouts. This was an easy fix, if you knew what you were doing. The obvious solution was to install an IRS(Independent Rear Suspension) system, and throw on a limited slip differential. After all, he was going to need all the performance he could get out of this thing. He’d already finished removing the rear axle, and now he just had to finish the installation of the rear setup. This minor pause in his plans weren’t troublesome in the least to Dave. It gave him time to learn more about his new body. He’d be all the more ready when the time came to go on the hunt.

A pair of drunkards stumbled their way down Canterlot Ave, passing dozens of closed shops. One was tall, and the other was short. The tall man had a weak chin, and a sour face. His hair was greying, and his face was wrinkled. He wore blue jeans and brown work boots on his lower half. His upper half was covered by a white tee shirt, and brown leather jacket. The short man, who was clearly younger, had a more prominent chin. His face, his hair. He had an over all more youthful appearance. He wore white sneakers and black sweat pants on his lower half. His torso was covered by a grey hoodie. The young one was singing a sloppy, merry tune as he tried to walk straight line. Meanwhile the older gentlemen seemed a bit aggravated.

“Shudup, kid.” He grumbled. The young man grumbled.

“Aw, Benson.” He teased. “Benson, Benson, Benson. What’s got you in a bad mood now, huh?” Benson rolled his eyes.

“You, Joseph. The answer is you.” He remarked.

Joseph chuckled. “Why you gotta be like this, man?” He asked. “Look, we just got paid by Alexus-”

“Alison, Jo. Her name’s Alison.” Benson grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever- Look, the point is,” Jo licked his lips. “The point is that we made some serious bank with that job, alright? And all we had to do was kill some kids.” Benson turned and shushed Jo.

“Would you be quiet?! Don’t go saying that so loud.” Benson scolded.

“Oh, piss off. No one’s here to hear us.” Jo commented. A loud, guttural sound echoed through the air. Making the two drunks look around in confusion. “The fuck was that?” Benson shrugged.

“Probably some wacko who had his radio too loud.” Benson commented. The air echoed with the sound of heavy, raspy, deep breathing. It sounded almost like a large animal. The pair glanced up the street, in the direction of the sound, and spotted someone a block away. He was wearing all black, and he had a hood up, shrouding his face in darkness. From where they stood, they could make out the glistening of metal studs on his gloves, and the height of his boots. Jo squinted at the man as he walked in their direction.

“The fuck- Is he the one making all this noise?” Jo asked.

“Looks like it.” Benson confirmed.

“Oi! Crackhead!” Jo shouted. “You need a doctor or somethin’?!” The man didn’t respond. He just kept his head down and marched closer toward them. They could see the misting of the man’s breath as the drew closer. Both men had realized how cold it had gotten, but thought little of it. The man in black stopped about forty feet away from them and just stood there, staring. Breathing. They were so drunk, neither of them noticed that there was far to much volume and echo on the breathing. Benson squinted and took a step closer to the man.

“Hey, buddy? You alright?” He asked calmly. The mans hands slowly reached up to the edges of his hood, and he lifted it back with a sudden jerk. Under that hood, now in the pale glow of a streetlight, was a titanium white, pockmarked, furious looking skull. The eye sockets were black and hollow, and seemed to go one endlessly on the inside. It stared at the men, who didn’t seem all that off put by it at first. But they slowly began to realize that this skull was way too detailed to be fake. It continued making those deep, animal like breathing noises, puffing steam out from its vacant nasal passageways. Jo pulled a nine millimeter out from his hoodie pocket, and fired a shot at the thing. They watched as the clothing on center mass ruffled, and saw a puncture hole where the bullet had hit the chest. The skeletal being didn’t even flinch. Instead, its sockets narrowed, and two small points of light formed somewhere deep within the black abyss of its eyes. Their faces turned pale, and their stomachs dropped. In a bright yellow flash the skeletal form caught fire, sending a small mushroom shaped plume up into the air above its head. The two men flinched at the sudden appearance of the ball of fire, and stared wide eyed at it for a few moments longer. Fire licked the air through the hole in his clothing, twirling and flickering before the hole patched itself up.

Benson and Jo watched its chest puff out as it took a deep breath, and watched its head surge forward as it let free an ungodly, ear splitting roar. Benson and Jo covered their ears and turned to run, only to nearly run into a black Mustang. They had no clue how the machine had gotten there, but they watched as it kicked on, and the bright green headlamps flickered to life. The two saw the burning man approaching, and tore off around the car with Jo taking the left side of the car, and Benson taking the right. The driver’s side door swung open, nearly taking out Jo. He briefly glanced inside, and gawked at the empty cab. He broke free of his trance, and began running after Benson. Jo, being much younger, managed to catch up to and pass Benson with ease. Meanwhile Benson was almost out of breath.

The burning man walked up to the open door of the Mustang, and the flame around his skull extinguished as he ducked inside. Upon shutting the door, the car caught fire. The vehicle lurched forward and spun around one hundred eighty degrees, leaving burning tire trails on the pavement. It took off after the fleeing duo. As Benson leaned up against a car, trying to catch his breath on the left side of the road, the Mustang bolted up along the right. The front wheels turned sharply to the left, sending the car into a tailspin. A tailspin which ended with Benson being sandwiched between the cars. The sound of crunching bone was drowned out by the sound of shrieking metal, and breaking glass. The Mustang pulled forward, scraping along the side of the other car and further mangling Benson in the process. With his pelvis and lower ribs smashed, there was little to stop his exploded intestines from spilling out onto the ground. Benson collapsed into a pool of his own blood and guts, and fruitlessly tried scooping the innards back into place. The Mustang showed no physical damaged from the incident, with only a red smear painted across the right side paneling. The red smear caught fire and burned away like gas.

The Mustang reversed, backing over Benson’s head. His skull pancaked under the vehicle’s weight, and half his head caught on fire, searing the flesh black. As Benson’s corpse burnt to a crisp, the Mustang reversed as fast as it could. It rear ended Jo, knocking him flat on his face. Jo tried to get up and run, but he felt resistance from his left leg. He looked back, and saw his foot tangled up in the under carriage of the car. He tried to wiggle free as the car idled there for a moment, but he’d gotten it quite thoroughly wedged into the car. A clunk from the transmission was all Jo needed to hear to make his stomach drop. The engine roared and the car surged forward. Jo screamed as the car began dragging him across the rough asphalt. He shrieked and cried as he felt the road tearing up his stomach and hands. It was worsened by the fact that the driver of the vehicle wasn’t even trying to drive in a straight line, dragging him left and right across the road. The swerving had sent one of Jo’s arms into one of the fire trails behind the car, catching his hoodie sleeve on fire.

Jo screamed as he shook his arm, trying to put it out. The Mustang did yet another tail spin, and Jo finally became dislodged from the car. Unfortunately the force at which he was thrown sent him flying, a little over a foot and a half above the ground. He slammed into a fire hydrant going thirty miles and hour. His face sunk in on impact. His neck gave out, letting his head crumple back against his mid spine. His ribs were beyond smashed as his torso collapsed accordion style from the top down. Then finally he rag dolled to the curb, where he finally came to rest. The fire slowly crept its way up his sleeve, gradually consuming him as the Mustang sped away.

Dash sang along to the music as she pulled up to the school parking lot. The sound of Slash playing with Myles Kennedy and The Conspirators worked in great combination with her singing voice. At least, she liked to think so. Mind Your Manners was, and still is, her favorite. The radio shut off as she pulled the keys from the ignition. She grabbed her bag and got out of the car. She found herself quietly singing the rest of the song as she walked through the front doors and over to her locker. She gave a certain tall asshole a back-of-the-head glare as she passed, but she could help but notice that he was in a better mood than usual. He didn’t look as mad, and he was even quietly listening to music at his locker. She still didn’t like him, but she was hoping that his dickhead behavior was coming down. She stopped in front of her locker and dialed the combination. 38, 4, 18. The lock clicked open. She opened the door and took her school bag off. She began unloading stuff she didn’t need for the morning into her locker. She paused when she felt her left butt-cheek vibrating. She reached back and grabbed her phone. It was from Twilight. There was a link to a news article and nothing else. Rainbow groaned. Twilight had lectured her the importance of keeping up with current events before, and she figured it was her way of trying to force Dash into doing it.

It was ironic, considering Twilight was also someone who was quick to point out lies and over exaggeration in mainstream media. Rainbow was about to shut her phone of, until she read the headline on the article.

‘Two men dead in southern Canterlot, police describe grizzly…’ The headline ended there, as there was no more room for the text. Dash tapped on the notification and unlocked her phone. She was directed to a local news source, and immediately began reading the article.

“Two suspected mafia members were found dead on Canterlot Avenue by police at six O’clock this morning. The police described a grizzly scene of two mangled and burned bodies, one basically wrapped around a fire hydrant, the other mangled after being crushed against a car. No suspects have been confirmed-” The first paragraph read. Rainbow blinked.

“Yikes.” She muttered. “Thanks Twilight.” She said sarcastically. She shut her locker.

Alison’s eyebrows briefly shook hands as she stared at the man before her. “What do you mean Benson and Joseph are dead?” She growled. She was leaned back against her desk with her legs crossed. Her arms were folded across the chest of her zebra print pencil dress. Jacobs gulped.

“I just got the call from the Police Department. They said someone killed them last night.” He pulled on his tie and clear his throat. “It wasn’t pretty, from what they told me.” Alison’s eyebrows reached for the sky as she lowered her chin to stare down Jacobs.

“Let me guess. Burned?” She asked.

Jacobs looked and the floor with a solemn expression on his face. “And then some.” He confirmed. Alison slammed her hand down on the table and stood up.

“Dammit!” She swore. “Who the hell thinks they have the balls now?! First Harrison, Jake and Larry, and now Benson AND Joseph too?! The fuck is it with these people?!” She seethed. She paced around the room for a moment, then rounded on Jacobs once more.

“Who did it?” She asked with a fire in her eyes. Jacobs put his hands up and shook his head.

“They got no leads yet.” He imparted. Alison stood there, staring with disbelief for a moment. She clicked her tongue and grabbed her wine glass off the table. She took a big gulp, downing the last of the crimson liquid, before hurling the glass at a wall across the room.

“FUCK YOU!” She screamed at the wall. Jacobs backed away. He knew this was bad. She was having one of her tantrums again. “FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!!!!” She shrieked. She rampaged through the room, sending papers across the room, flipping her desk over, and even knocking over a filing cabinet. Once the cabinet was on the ground, she began kicking it with her thick heeled, knee high leather boots.

“Fuck this town!” She screamed as she kicked the cabinet. “Fuck its people!” She kicked the metal cabinet again.

“And FUCK-!” She gave the cabinet once hard kick, rolling it over in the process, “The Police Department! Useless cunts!” She snarled. She wheeled around and pointed a shaky finger at Jacobs, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Call them back, RIGHT NOW! RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, and tell them I! WANT! A LEAD! And they better make it snappy! Got it?!” She hissed. Jacobs nodded and quickly walked out of the room. Alison looked around at the trashed room and took a few deep breaths.

“Fuck.” She swore under her breath. “I gotta stop this. I’m not going back to living like a peasant. But, how do I stop this?” And so began her long day of planning in the hopes she could end her opposition once and for all.

Ch.3

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.

Ch.4

“Be advised, we have multiple 187’s and 480’s, and a possible 415! Requesting all units to Canterlot High and SugarCube Ave!” The radio crackled. Private Officer Joseph raised an eyebrow and turned to his left, looking over to the driver’s side of the squad car he was currently a passenger in. The lieutenant beside him gave him a similar look. The lieutenant had black hair and a clean shaven face. His nose was a tad long for his face, but it wasn’t enormous looking. His prominent jaw definitely helped minimize the impact of the size. Private Joseph was clearly a slightly younger man, with blonde hair and green eyes. He had a stout nose, and a more rounded, baby-ish look to his face.

The lieutenant pointed to the radio and nodded. “You hearing this?” The man asked. The private nodded.

“Multiple homicides, hit and runs, and a possible disturbance in a vehicle?” The private shook his head. “You ever heard anything like this?” The lieutenant slowly shook his head.

“I gotta say, this is not what I was expecting to hear tonight.” The lieutenant commented. Joseph found his choice of words odd, but brushed it off. For a second there, it sounded like he was expecting a different set of codes. But, surely it was just a slip of the tongue. The lieutenant started the police charger and quickly pulled off toward SugarCube Ave.

The private scanned the area as they raced toward the scene of the crime, and he spotted smoke billowing up and over the buildings. The only reason he could really see the inky black smoke against the equally black night sky, was because it had an orange glow cast on it from below.

“Holy shit.” Joseph muttered. The lieutenant glance at it and shook his head.

“Hit and run must’ve caused a fire. A pretty bad one at that.” He remarked. The cruiser rounded the corner, and the officers were met by a scene of total chaos. Three trucks were destroyed and on fire. One sheered sloppily in half, one folded like a taco around a pole, and the last one crumpled like an accordion against a concrete wall. Fire fighters were desperately trying to put out the flames, while police were trying to cordon off the area. “The fuck?” The lieutenant muttered as they slowly cruised by the wreckage. The private saw heavily charred remains scattered about, and put a hand to his mouth.

“God, this is sick.” He mumbled. He was beginning to feel queasy, and his skin turned pale. They pulled to a stop and got out of the car. The stench of burning meat was heavy in the air, and it made the two officers gag. A young female officer approached them in a hurry. She had her light brown hair back in a ponytail, and her purple eyes stared icicles into her male colleagues.

“Scott, Joseph, glad you could make it.” She said quickly.

Scott shook his head. “What the fuck happened here, Jessica?” The female cop shook her head.

“I don’t know yet. It was a hit and run, but, we don’t know but who or what.” She informed. She glanced around shakily and swallowed the vomit creeping up her throat. “It looks like a monster came through here. And this is only half the carnage.”

The lieutenant’s eyebrows shot so high, they could basically high-five his hairline. “Half?” Jessica nodded.

“It looks like some people were trying to attack CHS. It looks like they ran into something else before they could kill anyone.” Jessica informed. She looked at the ground and shook her head. “The terrorists were dismembered and burned beyond recognition.”

“Burned?” The Private asked. “That sounds like…” He looked over at the Lieutenant with a frightened gaze. Scott nodded and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“The Ghost Rider.” He muttered. A frightening cacophony of shrieks and groans filled the air, turning everyone’s gaze to the sky. At the far end of the street, a black car with green headlights was spotted. It was far enough away from the police blockade that no one really thought much of it, but whoever was inside was revving the engine constantly. Scott rolled his eyes and pointed at the car. “Someone get that asshole to stop!” One of his fellow officers turned around and waved at him. He jogged off toward the blockade of police cars, and squeezed his way between the noses of two cruisers. As he jogged his way up the street, the car suddenly shifted into gear. The officer paused as the Mustang revved into a burnout. A thick plume of white smoke quickly enveloped the car, obscuring most of it from view.

The white haze suddenly lit up with a bright orange color, and the officer’s eyes widened as the car surged forward from the cloud, revealing burning tires. The man stood there like a deer in headlights as the burning vehicle barreled toward him, only to feel his body moving on its own as he turned around to run. Scott’s eyes widened when he saw it in the distance. The car thundered up behind the running officer and crashed through the police blockade, sending two of the cars spinning one hundred eighty degrees, and mashing the officer’s legs against the squad cars. It didn’t even stop, and quickly crushed the injured officer under its left tires. The wheels ran up the man’s spine, crushing everything on the way up, before finally splitting his skull wide open. The car screeched to a halt inside the police perimeter, and a deathly figure stepped out. It slammed the door shut and its skull ignited.

“Son of a bitch!” Jessica shrieked. She drew her pistol and began dropping 9mm on the demon. Her fellow officers all had the same idea, and some pulled their pistols, while others ran to their squad cars to grab bigger guns. Pretty soon there were bullets of all calibers and kinds flying around the beast. It roared angrily at its attackers, and stomped its foot down, dislodging a manhole cover. It reached down, grabbed the hefty piece of metal, and hurled it at one of the officers like frisbee. The officer ducked, and the metal disc lodged itself firmly into a brick wall with a loud crunch and the plunk of metal on rock. The beast uttered something in a hoarse whisper, which sounded like it was directly in your ears. It sounded like utter gibberish to Joseph, but about half of the officers seemed genuinely affected by it. Especially Scott.

“Shut up!” He shouted as he carelessly dumped his magazine at the thing. The bullets sparked off a few cars, which his fellow officers were hidden behind, prompting them to duck and cover.

“Jesus, Scott, watch your fire!” Jessica shouted at him.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Scott screamed. The beast marched over to one of the two cars he’d plowed through, and tried to open the trunk. With it didn’t budge, the thing narrowed its eyes and snorted smoke out of its nostrils. It viciously dug its fingers into the metal around the lock, and tore a chunk of the boot out. With nothing latching the trunk closed, the lid slowly opened. The impatient demon shoved the lid hard, basically bending it over the back windshield, and reached into the trunk. All it found inside was a pair of throwing axes. It grabbed the axes and hurled one at an officer. The hatchet quickly spun end over end, before embedding itself in the man’s chest. The officer, who had dodge the manhole cover previously, shrieked as the hearty blade dug into his flesh, and splintered his ribs.

The man fell to his back, where he writhed in agony as he gripped the handle of the axe. The rider marched over to the injured man and swung the second axe at the downed officer’s head. The axe lobbed off a chunk of the man’s forehead, shattering the brain case and splattering pulverized grey matter on the sidewalk. The demon reached down and gripped the handle of the axe embedded in the corpse’s chest, and tried to pull it free. When he, instead, lifted the whole body off the ground through the axe, the specter gave the body an annoyed kick, wrenching the head free from the man’s thoracic cavity.

With two axes in hand, the ghastly thing went on a rampage. It sprinted toward an officer and slammed an axe into his stomach with a back handed swing. Rather than pull it out the way it went in, the foul wretch twisted and pulled the blade sideways. It slashed the officer’s belly open from right to left, spilling the man’s intestines. He dropped his pistol and quickly reached down, trying to catch his falling guts, only to half his left leg lobbed off at the mid-shin. The man toppled onto his own innards, and the beast wound an axe back behind its head. The blade glowed red hot as it was ruthlessly driven into the officer’s back. The man screamed as the blade was repeatedly smashed into his ribs, only for it to fade into choking gurgles, and inevitably fall silent. The body caught fire as the scorching axe was pulled out for the final time, and the unholy thing moved on.

Joseph was disturbed and confused by the thing. Its brutality was unmatched, but its focus was very selective. It would totally ignore some of the officers, while it followed others with a laser like focus. It walked right passed one female officer, who was constantly blasting it with her shotgun, and marched toward a totally different one. The woman, realizing it was after her, took off running. The rider threw one of the axes at her, spinning it horizontally like a boomerang. The thick blade slammed into the back of her thigh, cutting right down to the bone. She screamed and flopped to the ground face first. She began grunting and wheezing like an animal as she rapidly crawled on her belly, desperate to get away from it. It, however, was far to fast for her. It came up behind her, grabbed a fist full of her hair with its free hand, grabbing right down to the roots. It wrenched her head back, and with one massive swing and a deafening roar, it severed her head from her body.

Her torso flopped back to the ground, spurting blood from the main arteries at the sloppy ends of the split neck. The shattered vertebrae and hollow tracheal passage stared at Joseph, making him tremble uncontrollably. He couldn’t take it anymore. He puked his guts out all over the pavement, which turned into dry heaving after he ran out of stomach contents to eject. Everything began to blur as he stood there, gagging over and over again as he stared into his own pool of vomit. The frothy chunks of his food constantly brought his mind back to all the dismemberment, further fueling his violent illness. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but when he pulled his eyes away, the monster had reached Scott. It hacked and chopped away at him in a frenzy, taking fingers, hands, whole body parts off with each swing. Scott lai flat on his back, struggling to keep himself alive. Joseph fell backward into his own pool of vomit, and sat frozen on his butt as he listened to Scott scream. Dear lord, his scream. It was horrific to listen to. It was like listening to someone getting mauled by a bear.

Joseph felt himself shake as he watched in muted horror. With no arms left to try and ward off the attacks, Scott was now at the mercy of countless axe swings to the chest. The screaming turned into choking and gurgling, and eventually an axe blow to to face exploded his skull, putting him out of his misery. The monster panted slowly for a moment, then its gaze slowly turned to Joseph. The private flinched as two burning lights met his gaze. It stood up, yanked its axes free of Scott’s cadaver, and slowly walked over to Joseph. No matter how much he tried, Joseph couldn’t move. He pleaded and begged that his muscles would let him do something, and even started to cry as the monster inched closer. He sobbed shakily as it bent down and came face to face with him. He could feel the heat coming off of it. He stared it straight in the eyes, and it the same hoarse whisper came a word.

“You.” It croaked. Joseph didn’t move an inch as it gazed upon him. Even this close, the voice had an echo to it, sounding so close yet so distant at the same time. “Innocent.” It declared. With out another word, it stood and began walking away. The ten or so remaining officers began to fire upon the demon once again, which it seemed to have little regard for. It didn’t even flinch as the hail of bullets pierced through its clothing, only for that clothing to patch and mend itself. Jessica came out from behind a squad car and race to Joseph’s side.

“Private!?” She barked. The man turned his head, eyes wide and skin white as a sheet. “Are you okay?!” She asked. He slowly shook his head at her.

“I resign.” He mumbled.

Rainbow Dash groaned. She was wrapped in a blanket to keep warm as they sat outside on the soccer field. Celestia had evacuated everyone to be as far away from the scene as possible, so the whole school was now in the frigid temperatures of the night. The EMTs were kind enough to give everyone emergency blankets so they wouldn’t freeze, though it did little to aid in Rainbow Dash’s story telling. “I’m telling you, I saw it! Clear as day! It was wearing his outfit!” She retold. AJ groaned.

“I can’t believe you snuck out.” She scolded. “You could’ve got hurt! We still have no idea what the hell happened here, what would we do if ya got killed?” Dash winced at her friends words.

“Alright! Alright! It wasn’t a smart idea.” She admitted. “But just listen to me for a moment! The Ghost Rider was here, and he was wearing Dave’s clothing! We gotta do something! I mean, shit, fighting crazed demons is what we do!” Sunset shook her head.

“I don’t know about this one Dash. We’ve dealt with magic before, but…” Sunset paused and bit her lip. “Well, the Rider has actually killed people. We’ve never had to deal with that before.”

Rainbow blinked. “What? We’ve dealt with plenty of bad guys who wanted to kill us!” She snapped. AJ shook her head.

“No, we’ve dealt with people who said they wanted to. None of them actually managed to get through with it, and none of them have done it on the regular.” Applejack corrected. “Besides, this guy is clearly good at it. We’re way in above our heads here. It might be best if we let someone else handle it.” Rainbow gritted her teeth.

“Like who, the police?” She snarled. “They don’t stand a chance against evil magic.” AJ rolled her eyes and sighed.

“We don’t know that.” She insisted. “We’ve never seen the police try to handle magic before. We don’t know how they would do against him.” A chilling symphony of shrieks and groans filled the air, turning everyone’s gaze to the sky. Sunset rubbed her arms and shivered.

“God, what the hell was that?” She muttered. The other girls shrugged. Not too long after, an officer approached them. He looked to be a hispanic man, average height, with black hair and chocolate brown eyes. It name tag read ‘Sgt. Ramirez’. He nodded and glanced between the group with a concerned stare.

“Hi, you girls okay? I just going around making sure everyone’s alright.” He informed. Sunset nodded as her teeth chattered.

“We’re fine, officer. Just a little cold.” She replied. Rarity stepped forward and asked the man a question.

“Excuse me, Darling, but, do you have any word when they might be letting us back inside?” She questioned. Ramirez shook his head.

“Sorry, girls. It’s kind of a mess in there.” He answered solemnly. Rarity sighed and nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait, then.” She remarked. AJ stepped forward and raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Any word on what happened in there?” She asked. Ramirez sighed.

“Its real confusing to shift through, but it looks like some people came into the school with automatic rifles and a machine gun.” He informed. Rarity gasped.

“Oh dear.” She whispered.

“Was anybody hurt?” Sunset asked. Ramirez rubbed his chin.

“No one from the school, no.” He confessed. Sunset raised an eyebrow.

“Then, someone from outside the school got hurt?” She asked. Ramirez closed his eyes for a moment a shook his head.

“Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, so just keep it to yourselves, but…” He paused and glanced up at the sky. “It looks like whatever these guys were planning was stopped by the Ghost Rider. And he did quite a number on them.” The group glanced at each other silently, until the officer’s radio crackled.

“Officers down! Repeat, officers down on SugarCube Avenue! The Ghost Rider has struck, the Ghost Rider has struck!” The radio barked. Ramirez grabbed his radio and spoke into it.

“Copy that, back up is on the way.” He assured. “I’ve gotta go. You girls stay out of trouble.” The girls didn’t even get to say goodbye as Sargent Ramirez jogged away to his cruiser. Once he was out of sight, the girls shared a glance with one another.

“You heard that too, right?” Dash asked. The girls all nodded. Applejack took her hat off and shook her head.

“Son of a bitch.” She mumbled.

“So what are we gonna do about it?!” Dash exclaimed. “We can’t let that maniac run loose!” Applejack held her hands up flashed Rainbow a concerned look.

“Woah, there, nelly!” She remarked. “I agree this is important, but we can’t just run off half cocked.” Sunset stepped forward and nodded.

“I agree with Applejack. We need a plan before we try anything.” She concurred. “Tomorrow is the weekend. I say we pay him a visit and try and talk him down. The less force we have to use, the better.” Rainbow groaned and slouched forward.

“Fine.” She muttered. “We’ll try and talk him into giving up first.”

A man was working late into the night in a gun store. He had a full beard which offset his pale skin. He was dressed fairly casually, wearing tan cargo pants and a camo teeshirt. A baseball cap sat on top of his head, proudly wearing the name of the local team on it. He was straightening the wall behind the counter, when he heard the door bell jingle. He turned around and started his little speech.

“Hello. Welcome to Western Slingers. How can I-?” He froze when he saw stern looking face standing in front of the counter. He recognized the face. He’d seen it in the paper a few weeks back. David K. David gave him a nod and scanned the wall behind him with his eyes. The way his eyes swirled side to side as his head remained fixed was chilling. His eyes finally came to a stop on something off to his left.

“I’d like to take a look at that CZ Sharptail.” He said plainly. The bearded man looked off to his right, spotting the classic full length double barrel on the wall. He glanced back at Dave for a moment, then slowly nodded and walked over to grab it. He took it down and placed it on the counter before him. Dave gently picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He clicked the breach open, scanned the inside of the barrels for a moment, then snapped the weapon shut and shouldered it, pointing it off to his left. He pulled the trigger and the weapon clicked. He opened and closed the weapon and did the same again. He nodded and placed the weapon back on the counter.

“I-Is there anything else I can help you with?” The bearded man asked hesitantly. Dave glanced up at him, then over at the wall again.

“The kel-tec ks7.” He spoke firmly. The man quickly nodded and turned the grab the weapon. He placed it on the counter and Dave took the opportunity to inspect this one as well. Midway through his little shoulder test, the clerk spoke up.

“Hey, listen…” The man started. Dave gave him a sideways glance and lowered the weapon. The man sighed and slumped his shoulders. “I’m terribly sorry about what happened to your parents… I guess, I feel responsible in some way, because… well, I used to sell weapon’s to Alison’s men.” Dave gently placed the shotgun on the counter and leaned against it with both hands. Now the clerk had his full attention.

“I always made sure to do the background checks, and I never gave any guns to people with criminal records, but…” The man scratched his chin through his beard and shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like that bitch wouldn’t have gotten to this point without me selling them shit.” Dave slowly nodded and stood back upright. He took a breath and pointed too the two shotguns.

“It’s only pistols that need background checks, right? So I can walk out with these in hand today?” He asked. The clerk nodded and Dave nodded back. “Alright, I’ll take these in a duffle bag, if you sell any.” The clerk nodded. He pulled out a long, black canvas bag from under the counter and reached into the display before him. He grabbed a few boxes of shells, and tossed them in the bag with the shotguns.

“The shells are on the house. Your total will be six thousand two hundred and ninety two dollars.” The clerk informed. Dave nodded and pulled out his wallet. He swipe a debit card and the counter, and when the transaction went through, the bearded man gave him his receipt. Dave was about to walk out, but then he stopped and turned to the man.

“Oh, uh, listen-” Dave paused and pointed to the clerk, realizing he didn’t catch a name.

“Zane.” The clerk informed. Dave nodded.

“Zane, right, well… I don’t blame you for what happened.” Dave informed. He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “They’d have gotten them somewhere else if not here. Point is, you didn’t know it would come to this, so… I absolve you of sin.” Zane didn’t quite know why, but Dave’s words sent a chill down his spine. Zane raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“Absolve me how?” He asked. Dave’s eyes flashed orange, and Zane’s attention was grabbed the the sound of a car starting outside. His blood ran cold when he saw the bright green headlamps on the sleek black car through his shop window. His gaze snapped back to Dave, eyes peeled wide open.

“You?” He asked. Dave nodded.

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna use these on any innocent people. I’m after The Bitch. I will make her whole empire crumble, and send her to hell myself.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Feel free to call the cops if you need to. I can’t say I’d blame you, but, it will make things more difficult from here on out.” He informed. Dave pushed the door open, and Zane finally decided to speak up.

“I wont!” He yelped. Dave paused halfway out the door and turned his head vaguely toward Zane. “Tell anyone, that is. She needs to be stopped, so, I wouldn’t feel right about getting in your way.” Dave nodded, thanked the man, and marched back to his car. Zane stood behind the counter shaking. He’d just met the Ghost Rider. He wasn’t sure if he’d want to again.

The next day had come, and the girls were setting their plan in motion. Through a ‘complex’ process of looking at Dave’s records, they managed to find his place of residence. This had set their plans back to the late afternoon, and the sky had gone dark grey from the coming snow storm. He lived in a more rural area, not too far from where Applejack lives. If anyone had to guess, his father likely selected the location so he wouldn’t disturb any neighbors with their constant work on cars. The house wasn’t huge. But it was larger than average. The windows indicated there were about four floors. They were staggered in a zig-zag pattern from right to left.

It honestly seemed to be laid out as if the house had been cut in half, and the right side was slightly sunken into the ground. There seemed to be a level slightly bellow ground, possibly a den area. Then, up and to the left, there was the ground floor. Back over to the right, above the suspected den, was a second floor. And finally, a third level just above the ground floor. The outside was coated in a matte steel grey paneling, and the door seemed to be made out of dark oak. Sunset shivered in the cold as she looked up at the house. Little snow flurries were already starting to fall.

The girls normally would’ve tried to doorbell, but seeing as they could hear the noise as they pulled up the long drive, they figured Dave must’ve been around back somewhere. They walked around to the back end of the house, where they saw a refurbished barn. The door was wide open, and inside was finished to be a shop of sorts. In the middle of the expansive room was an engine, up on mounts with cables and tubes connected to it. Dave was nearby at a computer station, wearing his usual boots and jeans, but only wearing a black wife beater tank top on his upper half. He was using the computer to rev the engine to various levels, and it would give him feed back on a graph. The exhaust gases were blasted out of the exhaust tubes into a pair of much larger tubes, which ran up and out through the back wall close to the roof.

Applejack decided to announce their presence, between his engine tests, with a firm but polite, “Howdy, partner.” Dave turned around and smiled a little at the girls.

“Hey, what brings you guys to this neck of the woods?” He asked. Sunset spoke up through the chattering of her teeth. You could see the misting of her breath in front of her face.

“We came by to see how you were doing.” She lied. Dave’s smile fell a bit at this, but no one thought too much of it. “Aren’t you cold?” She inquired. Dave make a face and shook his head.

“Nah, not really. The engine keeps it a little warmer in here.” He informed. The cloud of fog from his breath announced how cold it really was outside, but he didn’t seem to notice it. His nose wasn’t even red, somehow.

“Um, so, what are you doing?” Fluttershy squeaked. She was basically hiding behind her hair, frightened of the man before her. “If you don’t mind me asking.” Dave took a breath and glanced over at the engine.

“Oh, uh, I’m testing the engine out.” He imparted. He placed a hand on the intake manifold and glanced back at the girls. “It’s the engine we used to use on the drag strip. I modified it, and I’m testing it to see if the performance has been improved at all.” Dash raised her eyebrow.

“Isn’t that thing hot?” She asked. Dave shrugged.

“A bit. Its not too bad since there’s a constant flow of cool air into the manifold.” He informed. He removed his hand from the manifold and let it fall back to his side. Applejack groaned.

“I can’t lie about this.” She muttered. “Listen, we came here because we know about you.” She informed. Dave raised and eyebrow and turned around to his computer again.

“Uh-huh, know what?” He questioned halfheartedly as he typed away at the keyboard.

Sunset straightened out and stared right at the back of his head. “We know you’re the Ghost Rider.” She said firmly. Dave paused his typing for a moment, then kept going.

“That so?” He mumbled.

“Yeah, it is!” Rainbow snapped at him.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t go around killing people!” Sunset scolded. “You have to turn yourself in.”

“And why would I?” He asked in a harsh tone. Sunset rolled her eyes.

“Because, what your doing is wrong! You-” Her tirade was cut short by Dave’s fist slamming against the keyboard. He turned around and glared nails into her eyes.

“What I’m doing?!” He snapped. He took two short steps toward them and balled his fists. “My father and I were shot and killed together… My mother died in this house! Scared and alone, with no one but her tormentors to hear her scream.” He gritted his teeth and lowered his chin.

“My cousins were all murdered in cold blood. My infant niece was tossed into the air like a sporting clay for target practice.” He spatted. He cracked his neck and took a sharp breath. “I’m not stopping until The Bitch and her cronies get what they have coming to them.” He growled.

Rainbow Dash snarled and stomped her foot. “You fucking killed police officers!”

“Only a specific few.” He corrected. “They had close ties with Alison Grace, and used their influence to let these tragedies happen.”

“But murder isn’t the way to get back at them!” Sunset barked.

“It ain’t about what’s right anymore.” He growled coldly. “She has to be stopped… whatever the cost.” Rarity scoffed.

“So you resort of evil magic to make it happen?!” She piped indignantly. Dave shook his head.

“Oh, there ain’t nothing magical about me, darling.” He oozed mockingly. “Just a pissed off deadman who’d like to share a grave.” Sunset shook her head.

“Then we have no choice but to stop you.” She muttered in a depressing tone. “Ready girls?!” She beaconed. They all joined hands and spoke in confirmation. Within moments, they had grown new ears, and they had all sprouted ponytails. A few of them had even sprouted wings. Dave just stood there, snarling at them as they went on with their little bit. A literal beam of energy shot from the girls, and struck Dave with a blinding flash. When the light subsides, and the dust settled, the girls were mortified of what they saw. They all just stood there for what felt like an eternity, letting reality slowly sink in. Sunset collapsed to her knees, looking like she was going to throw up. Laying there, on the ground, was nothing but a mangled torso in a shredded tank top. Half his left arm was gone, and his hair had been singed away. Rarity turned away and place her hand over her mouth.

“Dear lord, we’ve killed him.” She muttered. “We’ve become no better than he is!” Applejack slid her hat off her head and let it drop to the floor as she stared wide eyed at the remains before her. A pool of blood was staring to form on the ground around wound. Whatever remained of his internals spilled out on the floor, causing the waistband of his jeans to suddenly deflate like a balloon. Rainbow Dash was the only one to actually throw up, though she turned around to do so. Fluttershy was a sobbing mess on the floor, and Pinkie Pie looked desolate, her jaw quivering as what they’d done sank in. Applejack, though certain of the damage they’d done, decided she need to check just to be sure it was real. She slowly inched closer to the torso, walking as if she was going to scare it.

She grimaced as she peered around the chest to see the destroyed face. Then the arms moved, making her jump back and away. It wasn’t a subtle movement, like a twitch or a spasm. They full on batted at the air, then settled again. There was a brief respite in the commotion, before the thoracic cavity began thrashing again. The girls watched on as the remains began moving and growling. With one arm they managed to flip the torso onto its stomach. Dave glared up at them with massive blood shot eyes, and spat out tattered flesh and blood as he snarled and groaned at them. He began dragging himself toward the mortified girls with his one functional arm, while trying to use the stump of the other one to aid him. His insides spilled and dragged across the ground behind him as he slowly inched forward, smearing blood and gore across the tiled floor.

Rarity was the second one to vomit, as she emptied her stomach on the white floor upon witnessing this. The mangled body began to undergo a transformation. His clothing began to appear from cinders and ashes, which fluttered in from seemingly no where. His eyes glowed orange as he dragged himself, and his skin started falling away in burning chunks. The missing pieces of the skeletal structure started reforming, similar to the way the clothing had. Missing vertebra pieced together one by one, the missing arm slowly began reforming from the top down. By the time the burning, boney arm had reformed, the pelvis was nearing completion. Now with two working arms, the two centimeter per second speed of the crawl had doubled. The long leather sleeve and glove formed on the new arm, giving it better grip.

The sleeve finished around the same time the legs began forming at the hip. The pelvis wiggled wildly, trying to propel the abomination even faster. Soon enough there were long enough nubs of the femur to allow it to kick at the floor, and they did so with a determination unlike anything they’d ever seen. Sunset found herself staring into its blackened eye sockets, and watched the balls of light form deep within. The kicks grew even more wild as the tibia and fibula started forming. It wasn’t long before the thing was able to crawl like an alligator. It howled at them angrily as it grew ever closer, sounding like it was right next to their ears, but echoing as if it were in a cave. The girls started to slowly back out of the barn. By the time the feet started coming together, it had crawled out into the snowy grass outside, and the upper thigh of the pant legs had reformed. The snow around it began to melt a bit as the fire billowed and flickered from its skull. It fumbled a bit as it tried to rise to its feet early, only to drop down to its hands and knees.

Heavy snow was falling from the sky around them as it lifted one leg forward, and planted the unfinished foot down into the snow. The demon was now kneeling on one knee, using one hand for support. It clumsily stood and wobbled a bit as it tried to find its balance. As the toe bones came to be the task became easier and easier. Then it began walking toward them. They weren’t particularly firm or secure steps either, it jerked around quite a bit as it tried to march toward them. Once the toes and finished developing, the boots and lower pant legs began to take shape. As this was going on, its footsteps became more and more steady. Once the being in its entirety was complete, it stomped one foot down in front of it and roared at the girls. As it roared, fire spewed from its open mouth like a flame thrower. The girls, who were just out of reach of the inferno, recoiled and shielded their faces from the heat.

It shook its head from side to side, before rearing it back, sending the fire ball upward. The demon snapped its jaws shut and the fireball evaporated. Then it lowered its gaze back to them, and narrowed its eyes angrily. Sunset dropped to her knees holding her head, and she began shaking uncontrollably. The other girls tried to see what was wrong, but she wouldn’t stop sobbing and mumbling on about how sorry she was as she rocked back and forth. Its jaws parted slightly, and it growled at them as it stood its ground. Rainbow Dash stared at it with wide eyes. This wasn’t magic. There was no way it could be. Then what was it? The idea of not knowing frightened her. She looked down to see her legs shaking. She couldn’t stop them. God, she wished she could. In the distance, around the front of the house, the garage door unlocked itself. It slid open, and the already idling Mustang slowly rolled out. It turned and went around the house, coasting at ten miles an hour.

The girls all saw it round the corner at the right side of the house, and come to a stop there. It revved twice, catching the monster’s attention for a brief moment. It turned its head back toward the girls and glared down at Sunset. Her gaze shot up and she stared at it with a wide open eyes. It muttered something to her. Something incomprehensible to the other girls, but Sunset Shimmer seemed to understand it. After saying its piece, it turned and started marching toward the parked Mustang. Sunset fainted shortly after, and her friends rushed to her side, trying to bring her back to consciousness. The car quickly reversed back around the side of the house, and was gone from sight. They listened to the engine thunder as it drew further and further away. Only after it was inaudible did Sunset regain consciousness.

“Hey, Sunset, are you okay?!” Rainbow Dash asked. Sunset shook her head. She looked distant, like everything was happening far away from her. Applejack placed a firm hand on her shoulder, causing the bacon haired girl to look over at her. Aj leaned in close and stared Sunset in the eyes.

“What did he say to you?” She asked firmly. Sunset swallowed hard and opened her mouth.

“He said I was innocent.” She informed.