“Wait!” He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before the pegasus reopened his eyes, “I do have the bits… Just not here. You have to trust me… Please?”
Sky Stinger nervously paced in a line, all the while the masked stallion in front of him stagnantly started to stare. He wore a ski mask— you know the ones— hiding his identity. There was no use in covering up the eyes… Many had brown eyes.
It seemed the only weapon he had on him was a box cutter. The yellow extending blades, made for slicing tape off of boxes. A strange choice of weapon but it scared Sky Stinger.
Speaking of whom, tried to reason with the armed stallion. “I promise y—” he choked on a heavy gulp, “—you— you can have whatever I own. Just, please, don't take that crate.”
The masked assailant leaned against the wooden crate, then plunged the box cutter into it. “Do I know ya’ from somewhere?” He had a southern Equestrian accent. Deep and cowboy like.
Sky Stinger pawed at the cloudy ground, shrunk from the helplessness. “I… Uh…” He didn't know what to say. Maybe saying something would prolong this confrontation? Yea! Another pegasus is bound to come across these two!
Sky Stinger shook his head, internally annoyed by his wishful thinking. His dark blueberry fur felt cold. From the altitude or anxiety, he was unsure. “I’m in… The… Wonderbolts?” He didn't mean to ask this fact. It was the nerves.
“Seen y'all flying so quick, it got me inspired.” A brief glimpse of a nicer character glistened, “To see how quick they could be shot down with my rifle.” Cut short.
“And… And I bet you can! But, uhh there's a few very fast fliers in the Wonderbolts.” He quickly added, unsure of how the masked stallion would reply.
“And? I would shoot them down too!” He spat at the remark. “A born killer I was. My papa threw me up as a colt with bottles as he shot everything besides me. Of course, he weren't aiming for the bottles.”
“I’m uh…” He scratched his chin, then stared at the sky for a cautious answer to such news, “I am so sorry to hear that.”
“Ain’t nothin’, my brother didn’t make it. Called me his favorite child soon after! Of course, it was only pa and I soon after ma turned rabid. Then only me once I got bored and shot pa… ‘Cept there weren't any bottles.”
“You had nobody to tell your life's story to? Isn't it odd how strangers are much easier to open up to?” Sky asked this, as if it were the natural thing to do.
“I reckon strangers don't take things to the grave. Secrets and all of that… But it is somethin’ I noticed too.” After a short breath, the stallion took a bag out of the dingy wagon, drinking chalky orange juice. He didn't mind being messy, uncaring if anypony judged him. In a sense, being a bandit like this seemed like… Freedom. Free like the dark brown water that dripped from nearby pipes.
“Can you throw the carton in the trash over there?” Sky motioned over to a bin nearby the wagon in the alleyway.
“Ya’, nature down below us can't do nothing about Cloudsdale folk. Must be better than them and respect Equestrian soil.” He followed through with Sky Stinger's request, briefly taking his eyes off of the crate and box cutter.
Sky Stinger took a few steps towards the box cutter, aware of the limited time to pull this off.
A gradual shamble towards it had been made. He felt the colour on him wash out. He felt his heart squeeze and pop.
Clouds below him displaced but they clung to his hooves. Sky’s ears burned. They tightened and gripped in with hot blood snaking through. His heart taunted the poor stallion who inched closer to his salvation.
There was… Only… One issue.
“Keep that up, an’ you’ll fall through the floor like a metal ball through soft tissue paper.” He soon returned.
Sky slowly scratched and swatted at the ground, aimlessly walking in a circle like a blind cow in a pen. He soon snapped out of his trance.
“Oh… I— uhh,” the blue bird pony began to smile, “you like nature too? I am a pretty bad flier… Self admittedly. N— nopony else would think such a thing! But that's besides the point.” As he talked, leaning against the wall felt natural. It made him feel comfortable. “I’d look down below me sometimes to admire that view. When… No, if I screw up a practice round you can guarantee the horizon would be admired.”
“Ah know what ya’ mean. The castle in the fancy town completes the look. Ain't a chance ah’d miss to look yonder!”
Both of them turned to view the said horizon. It reflected in their eyes, twinkling like the moon’s light over an ocean.
“Forgive me, but I don't take it, you fly often? Not many country ponies in Cloudsdale, y’know?” Sky lifted his head but floated his eyes across the green sea below.
“Earth pony household. My father was related to Pa by some long extension, then I was sent to live with ‘em. My brother was born a few years after but I suppose family isn't what the race is… It's the feeling.” He coughed, but then a breeze caused him to shiver. “Dem Wonderbolts or whatever must've forced some distance between your family, huh?”
Chilled and chittered, Sky ruffled his feathers before speaking. “A bit, yeah. But they were supportive! Well, I mean— they probably don't understand how much this really means to me… And it's good to have someone there to get you, you know? Me and my girlfriend are so—” He stopped. He quickly darted his eyes at the crate, hesitant to bring up anything further.
“Err, you ‘ave a mare? I've lost many. Gotta keep 'em close before you get used to dismissing loved ones.” Briefly, the masked stallion had a drained expression. Paled and somber. “Are ya’ gonna get her something nice? Where is she? Back at home?”
“Uh… yeah,” he nearly pointed a hoof at the crate before retracting it immediately after, “thought about buying her a vintage massage chair. She mentioned having terrible back pain from soaring for long hours. And I did! Now she won't see it… Because, uhh—” Sky waved a hoof, directed towards the crate.
“Surprise gift would have to come later then. Sorry to hear that, boy. I was just told to guard or else I disappear. No hard feelings, just the way the butter is cut. You know?” He nudged the crate gently. “Could always buy a new chair. Or, y’know, a missus?”
‘WHAT?’, Sky Stinger thought. Maybe this stranger tried to give him advice… But this advice is quite old fashioned. Too outdated for Sky to take seriously. ‘Replace it? Replace her? I need to make everything up to her! My… Vapor.’ And after these thoughts echoed through his mind like footsteps down a long hallway, the masked stallion approached.
“You seem sick. Now, I reckon we can stand out ‘ere for a bit but the boys’ll be back anytime soon.” He shrugged, seemingly indifferent to Sky’s drained glitter inside his soul. “Everything is bathed in purple now. So, I'll tell you what— I can meet you tomorrow and hopefully we can meet on better terms?”
“Ouhhghh,” was the only thing that left Sky’s mouth for a while. A burning sensation invaded his throat. It left a tight, pain induced feeling. “I— No, I don't think I can… Do that… Would you still be here if I left, came back with bits, and then flew away as if none of this happened?” Sky Stinger winced and bit his lip. Because of the apprehension, the other returned to his original spot.
“Well, do ya’ live far?” Tilted, the masked stallion’s head waited for Sky to answer but he didn't wish to.
They both stood in silence for a few minutes. Not because Sky didn't have an answer, but a few hoofsteps were making their way towards the wagon. In the meantime, all they could do was stare at the other.
Sky positioned himself to face the crate whilst maintaining eye contact. “I— I thank your… Generosity. I'll think of something, well, mutually beneficial! Does that sound good?”
“Darn right it sounds good. All of this extra cow manure for a chair? Gotta be a monkey's uncle to understand ma’ boss’ motivation behind all this.” The mask pony sat down beside the crate, bored, and ready for the unknown company to arrive.
The pair heard a door shut and some shouting coming from the apartment building behind them. False alarm.
“Tell me more about ya’self. I find you to be an interesting feller.” He said. It woke up Sky, happening to force him back into the groove of conversation.
“It all started in flight school as a colt…”
A hoarse grunt responded to that. “No, not your childhood. ‘Ah mean, what is your favorite song or music genre?”
“Any song that progressively crescendos and ends in one huge cacophony of noise. I don't think I have to ask what yours is…”
“Classical. It's classical music. Why didn't you hafta’ ask? You knew?” Through the ski mask, an eyebrow raised.
“No. You… You really do strike me as a classical music enjoyer.”
“Why, thank ya’, for judging me correctly!”
“N-no problem.”
“Also, I wanted to ask ya’,” the masked stallion peered into the sky as he balanced all of his weight to the left side of his body, “if I can see if I'm not too busy, would you like me to replace your couch?”
“Again, I am… On a little t-time limit here,” Sky Stinger stammered, “you’ve been so understanding. Why are you helping me?”
“Saw I was more than just a rusty ‘ol guard for a mercenary. Most folk usually don't bother to talk to me. Granted, that's because—”
“You stab most folk on the spot? Or shoot?” He replied with closed eyes and slowly nodded his head, “I take it ponies annoy you a lot. I feel that, honestly.”
“Yup. S’all good though, on the account we send apology letters to the families of the deceased. May as well if you end the pony out of spite.” He gave a sharp grin that teetered on the side of being wicked.
“You know, that's more than what most organizations like this do. Is there some sort of honor code you guys live by?”
“Used to. Crazy kook, our leader has turned into if you ask me. Some of us still follow the old ways but that number has dwindled.” He looked gravely at the ground made out of cloud and mist.
“Contention amongst the ranks, hm?” Sky Stinger caught eye contact with him again. His facial expression, behind the mask, had grown softer.
“I suppose it's more of a minor nuisance. These fellers may be the only true family I've known.”
“For me, I just naturally gravitate towards whoever gives me affection. That's what family is to me, at least.”
The masked stallion nodded in agreement, “While it's true we don't lift each other up much or at all sometimes, I think the fact we're all stuck in a place akin to Tartarus brings us closer.”
“Interesting view on things. You don't need affection… I don't really need common ground.”
“You mean to say you have nothing in common with your lady?”
Sky Stinger slowly shook his head, “Not much, but we do reciprocate feelings! It was… Nice. I— Celestia, I miss her… More than anything. How'd I screw up so bad…”
“Go to ‘er. Like I said, ‘ah will replace the couch later. No harm d—”
“Oh, it's not so simple! I would've explained but I didn't trust you… Now, I think I can!” Sky tightened his mouth into a smile. It was a nervous gesture he made with his hooves but one the masked stallion followed nonetheless.
“You see, they have—” He was cut short with laughter coming from behind him.
“Got the little sheep all locked up in its pen! Thanks for securing the wagon, mate!” A different voice interrupted Sky Stinger.
He wore an eyepatch on his left eye. Remnants of a burnt face hid behind this one's mask. Besides that, his outfit had been identical.
Four more stallions in similarly dressed attire arrived in suit. They all pointed box cutter blades at Sky Stinger, circling the pegasus.
“The name’s Black Eye! And this isn't how things were supposed to pan out.” He took a few steps towards Sky Stinger, “You were not supposed to take so long over here. Why'd you think we only sent one of us? Bad boyfriend, this chap.” Black Eye turned to the guard, “Rabbit, why aren't you knocked out cold… Or… Worse?”
The masked stallion, Rabbit, scratched his head and gaped his mouth slightly open, “What in tarnation are you on about, boss?”
“Boys, open the crate.” He quickly demanded without a hint of hesitation from any of them.
Their leader paid no mind to the sudden change in positions. It's as if this had been rehearsed. There's no way of knowing how long they've been at this or how long they'll continue to do this.
Rabbit, the masked stallion who'd been with Sky, felt his heart skip a beat. He was looked down upon once the others walked by. Sharpened teeth and narrow eyes shot him. After getting snickered at, two masked stallions coincided with lifting away the crate’s side lid.
At first, a few loud snaps startled him. Even with a few graves to his name, few things still managed to spook him. Indeed, what followed would surely be up there. Nails clinked off and fell through the ground.
Both Sky and Rabbit had the same reaction on their faces but for different reasons. A shared expression of horror.
Before the lid was even fully dislodged, a foul stench snaked through their noses. It smelt of hot liquid sweat and dirt. An earthy smell that attracted the attention of flies during summertime. Small insects blitzed out of a newly created opening.
Only the two horrified pegasi gagged and held in their breaths. Everyone around them grunted, pleased with their prize inside.
It was no couch.
Couches don't get malnourished. Couches don't squeeze their entire body like a wrinkled stress ball just to breathe. It was dark but a few bends of light allowed Rabbit to see what… Who… Slumped over inside of there.
He fought back his stomach mixture that tried to spill out his mouth. “... ‘Ah,” *blerghh*, “wouldn’t… Have agreed to this.”
Black Eye smiled widely with a mocking expression, “No? What? Really?” He laughed in his face. “Next time we'll give you the heads up for your input!” His laughter continued until it died down, seeing the unamused Sky Stinger.
“No, I don't have the bits on me. I tried to think of an ultimatum, and I— I— had something! I almost had something…” Sky lowered his head just as every muscle in his body tensed.
A popping noise from Black Eye's lips broke the brief silence, “Alright, we will keep this cargo here for another d—”
“NO!” Sky Stinger interrupted with a boom to his voice, “She won't last another day! P-please…” He trembled and almost cried, taking desperate breaths as if he were drowning, “S-she just wanted… T-to help me be a Wonderbolt. Didn't want to gamble… B-but ran out of options!”
“Shouldn’t have betted on something irreplaceable. What were you thinking?” Black eye shook his head disapprovingly, “Anyway, getting her roped into this was a little extreme but our point is being made here.” Black Eye almost had his unique composer broken but soon reverted back to the familiar, “SO, YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE!?” More laughter. Soon, the entourage joined in.
This entire time, Rabbit stared at the cloudy ground. He felt guilty. If he had known what was being guarded, all of this would've panned out differently. He watched as they were about to prepare for the crate’s transportation. Just then, a thought came to mind.
“Why don't we just take ‘im instead, boss?” This simple question quieted the group.
“We like… WE ENJOY TORMENT!” He cleared his voice after yelling this, “Because this pointy teat gambled. What was at stake? His gal. Bought her an apology gift thinking he'd see her again! Piece of work, this one.”
Sky Stinger lost the strength to maintain eye contact. He felt any semblance of a desirable outcome diminishing by the second.
“Yeah, ‘ah don't see why we don't just take him?” Rabbit pointed at the mare, clinging to life, “He would fit better in that position, dontcha’ think? For… Entertainment?”
Murmuring rumbled within the group next to the wagon. Some even nodded their heads.
“Maybe you weren't serious when you bet your own marefriend over money. But, BOY, WERE WE SERIOUS! Lesson learned? Hm?” Black Eye brushed a hoof against Sky’s face. “Gonna give you the exact same treatment. And I don't think she'd be willing to bid for you.”
Sky looked over at her. Still struggled to breathe. Gnats and flies gave the poor mare company. These insects and foul smells will soon welcome him. A foal-like cry escaped, signaling his acceptance. He closed his eyes and willingly followed Black Eye to the crate.
The group’s leader quietly told Sky, “Now, you were originally supposed to follow this scheme I cooked up but we arrived late. This might be even better! Enjoy your… Stay… With us!” He gave a little laugh before he turned away from Sky.
The mare was attended to. Black eye carefully helped her walk a few steps away from the crate. She rested against a building's cold brick wall. Pained breathing sounds persisted and slowed as the group threw Sky inside of the crate.
All she could do, through heavy eyelids, was watch a hammer punch in nails. Too weak to blink. Too starved to scream. She tried to admire the night's sky instead of seeing the wagon begin to depart.
One of the masked assailants had trouble leaving the mare but eventually succumbed to loyalty.
Now alone, forever heartbroken from the fact her lover so easily vanished, without a trail left.
