Author's Note
This is my first schmoozle. I'm bad at punctuation, and I tried using the guide but my comprehension and retention are gone with the wind. I've always had this on the mind, I just wanted to start it before it ended up as fuel for the forget machine. I have much more planned in the way of chapters and stuff. I would like to know what you think though.
By the way, in case you somehow missed the tags, this is not for the faint of heart or babies. K? -3
Dead Zero
1
Dead Zero
Your name was Kenneth; not that you could ever know that again. That and many other things were forfeit with the contract you signed. You were human? No, but close enough to be called a man. Your age was not young but also far from old, though you felt so you suppose but even if that weren't forfeit would it really matter to you if you knew? Tired eyes and dark hair, nails bitten down till bleeding at the quick. You'd done it since you were young, now nothing felt right without that familiar sharp pain in every finger. It had changed from a nervous tick to a necessity to even function on your most simple levels.
You chose a 10 inch knife and a brick. You marked your chest with marker, a line that ran parallel to and in between the fourth and fifth rib down, close to but not meeting the sternum. You knew how your body would resist if you did so slow enough, so you added the brick for quick force. It's just what you had available to you.
You drove into Oregon, you remember liking it there, and you'd much rather spend those moments in your preferred cold climates over hotter ones. You took the time to listen to your favorite music, contemplating didn't occur to you. You decided this for yourself over a decade before. The time between then and now only reinforced that choice.
You gave them their chance to prove it was all worth it. They'd failed you time and time again.
So you drove up to Willamette National Forest, overcast and rainy where you were left alone. So you parked your car and opened the windows. So you, under the sound of the rainfall and your engine, took off your shirt and reclined your seat with the pull of a lever and push of your back. So you reached over and grabbed the knife and brick. So you positioned the tip of the knife over the mark left of center on your chest and the brick above the handle of that.
The tip of the blade stung. Much like your freshy gnawed fingers. It was comforting, familiar. Until you slammed the brick into the handle with a heavy grunt, and the blade scorched its path through muscle then smooth tissue to burn away the blood that weighed down your heavy heart. The pain, the excruciating panic that set in over your entire body, your legs slamming straight against the brake uselessly for a moment. Your car was parked, not going anywhere, at least not right now. Your back didnt know where it wanted to go, arch in or out, twist left or right. Your jaw pressed closed tight, a loud breathless groan erupting from your throat and rattling against your teeth. The strength in you to pull out the blade was already sapped. Your face turning red, then incredibly pale. Hot turned cold, and you lost all panic and feeling before your sight and mind slipped from you. Your flailing stopped within moments, but as much as your body hated you for it, not a single ounce of regret followed in its futile warpath towards it's now unattainable time. The brick punctuated this with a thud onto the cupholder's hard plastic frame.
So you chose death and its unknowable consequences.
~White Lie~
The Legion of Doom. He knew them all too well. His failed saviors. When given chance after chance to mess up and try again with the whole of Equestria backing them, of course what's considered good and just would succeed. White Lie hated that kind of world. Irredeemable said they to their villains. His attempted heroes!
Irredeemable his own family and friends said to him. When his cutie mark turned up a snake head billowing smoke from it's mouth at a mirror. Scary yes, complex most certainly, but that wasn't the problem. How could it possibly be interpreted any other way? A snake. Smoke and mirrors. His snow white fur, mane, and tail. He was destined to be a great liar. That seemed to be the fact, because he did turn out to be quite the skilled deceiver.
Though he took the name White Lie and discarded Snowfall, he held the alias of Cold Cloud. He painted a quill paper and bit over his cutie mark. He was now talented in banking, more accurately keeping track of funds. Lying in that field was hard, yet rewarding if one could pull it off. How couldn't he, it was his special talent.
None of that seemed to matter anymore for him. He couldn't see his heroes return again, forever trapped in stone, raging against what normal ponies considered good? What did they know about good, when they couldn't even appreciate an evil restrained for their sake. A happiness denied so they could achieve theirs. He stopped caring enough to not lie long ago. He was by no means dumb however.
That's why when he offered his help to a devious, yet talented unicorn mage named Night Terror, real name unknown and really not asked for in conversation, he told the truth. He would divert all the funds he could get away with to Night Terror in order to bring the Legion of Doom back, but better. Night Terror was disturbing to be around, and gleefully agreed. With the ability to corrupt others much like the elements of harmony manipulated the inconsiderate masses of Equestria to rally behind them. There were those like Lie who just wanted a chance to be happy. Then there were those like Terror, who savored the thought of Equestria on fire. He'd take care of that loose end in due time. He could tolerate hypocrisy if that meant burying a pony whose only wish was to have the ability to torture others beyond scrutiny. White Lie wasn't a monster.
His patience ran thin though, and the tightening strain on the threads within his web of lies grew worrisome. Sure he could always up and leave, take on a new name, dye his coat and change his cutie mark, but the less consistent the identity he kept, the less likely his precise house of cards could hold. He needed results soon. Very soon, and he'd yet to receive so much as a murmur from Night Terror in three months. "Am I being taken advantage of?" he wondered to himself as his wings carried him over the woods, following the river leading to the coastal lighthouse where his deep red partner lived. He looked out over the horizon, dusk setting in, the moon would make this night without clouds well lit. He only hoped it wasn't a new moon, that would make it all the more treacherous. He'd have to stay at Night Terror's abode until the morning. The first time he did so, his coworkers assumed a midnight reverie with a mystery mare. They guessed so much, he didn't need them prying and to be honest while he was into stallions, Terror wasnt his type. "Terror probably isn't anypony's type" he snickered.
He landed with a brief, practiced flutter onto the cold stone stairs of the lighthouse, its beam soon to be lit. His hooves clopped over the granite as he made his short approach to the door and knocked. He did his best to remember to maintain his composure and patience when or if Night Terror answered. Which he did. In 4 minutes.
Record timing. The door creaked against it's old hinges and that familiar slack jawed grin peaked out from the dark accompanied by his-... it's fervent fiery orange eyes. Its voice started as a low croak leading to a high pitched whinny of delight. Lie was already holding himself up on his reserve of tolerance for this sick individual "Night Terror, I've co-"
A sick laugh led into its interruption, "Discooovery~ I told you and now my little viper wants to see-e-ee?" The unicorn was so excited that it hopped from one hoof to the next, its shaggy grey mane and tail flopping about with each bounce.
Lie cleared his throat, "You haven't sent word in three months. Of course you haven't told me, and you are right that I'm expecting to see results… Now!" White Lie stomped one hoof into the lighthouse, immediately putting an end to the hopping. Night Terror shrunk away, followed quickly by a laugh as it turned and led Lie deeper into the lighthouse and down the spiral stairs into the underground basement level. Lie followed slowly, closing the door politely behind him. Dust flew up from every movement, every step. He coughed a few times to clear his body of this terrible oversight in cleanliness by Terror.
It cackled "Scary scary Lie, little scary White Lie, little teenie tiny fragile-" was all White lie could catch before it all became a cacophony of overlapping echoes and maddened laughter. Yeah. Night Terror needed to die. Period. There was no doubt about that.
Chalk and ink, half completed and half ruined, magical inscriptions and circles covered the underground lair. On a large workbench down below covered with dessicated creepy crawlies and scribbled on parchment, Night rifled through its research. It smelled musty and damp down there, ever as gross as it was. The dusty entrance was much more tolerable. As Lie reached the bottom, waiting next to Night Terror's fireplace which harbored a cauldron, Terror selected three choice pages, a scroll, and a centipede's dried husk; darting back to his co-conspirator and slapping them on the floor before laying on its belly. White Lie wanted to be more enthused, but Night Terror's writing was comparable to chicken scratch. He only looked at the cauldron, wondering why it wasnt boiling and bubbling with toil and trouble. "SEE, SEE, THIS SOLVES IT DISCOVERAYY!!!"
White Lie gazed down at the woeful creature that dabbed shakily at the papers with its cracked hoof and let out an exasperated sigh, "Only you can make sense of that. Tell me what I can understand."
Croaking with a sharp intake of air, Terror answered as calmly as it could, meaning shakily with a few cracks in its voice "The spell is forever because our maaaagic will not work." White Lie immediately thought he was being taken advantage of. "But I found a place mhehe I did I did. I reach innnn~HAHA-ha and pull out the magic from there. Its powerful, spiteful like you, and will strip away their shaCKLesss. With malignance, it will feed them what they need." Terror was having a fit. White Lie's eyes widened in excitement and fear. Whatever Terror thought it found, was not only enough to excite the mad-stallion, but could revolutionize magic for all of Equestria, once it fell under the Legion of Doom's just rule. A way to reach into different realms to extract more potent and different magic? His eyes narrowed as he made a mental note to give the credit to the Legion of Doom once he got rid of this monster.
Speaking of which, that monster suddenly snapped its head up; shaking before rattling up the stairs. "THE LIGHT, the damned light-" During its absence, Lie would look closer with his cherry red eyes at the scrambles and centipede.
"What realm will I have to thank for feeding you, my heroes?"
