High Crimes: Manehatten

"Damn it........Damn it all to Tartarus!" The gray stallion thought as he lay broken and bloody from the beating that he had just received, his shame did not end there as his attackers had then decided to rob him as well.

The word failure rung in his head repeating itself over and over and over again, reminding him that not only had he failed himself but also the family that lay in his Morgue only a couple of blocks away. They would forever be a constant reminder of how he had been so close to punishing the ones responsible for their untimely demise. Diamond dogs, shortly after being allowed into the city due to a recent changes in pony law, became one of the top crime syndicates in Manehatten.

Once they had claimed their territory it wasn't long before the bodies began to pile up. At first it was only Griffins and Dogs as well as a few ruffian ponies. All of these were known to have been associated with other gangs in the city. One day, though, he arrived at work to find the Royal Guard waiting for him with the news.

The guards informed him that three of his brothers had fallen, killed trying to evacuate and protect the ponies of an apartment building that was set ablaze due to an escalation in gang activity in the area. And that's when an unknown stallion showed up. He came offering an opportunity to do some good for the city that he had grown up in. Warned of the risk to his life, the stallion decided that was a debt that he would willingly pay for if he had too.

"What was I thinking, signing up for this?" He gave a pained chuckled at the humor of it all. "Then again, it was my decision........a decision which I probably should have thought through before making a commitment to someone I have only known for a little under a week."

He was pulled away by the soft hum coming from one of his coat pockets. Without hesitation his horn lit up in a soft grey glow, as he effortlessly pulled out what appeared to be a small mirror the size of a glasses' lens. He carefully maneuvered it so it sat directly in front of him on the pavement.

"What is it now?"

It didn't take long for the image of a deep green stallion, dressed smartly, appeared on the other end. His face was calm, showing indifference at the question.

“What do you think, Charon?” An edge in the voice betrayed annoyance for his companion's attitude.

"Hey! don’t get mad at me Snakes. I just had my flank handed to me by a group of very large Diamond Dogs.”

Slowly the grey stallion began to get to his hooves, it didn't take long for him to locate what little he had brought with him - or better yet, what hadn't been stolen. Charon slowly collected his fedora before returning to the mirror still laying in the middle of the ally. He was greeted by a rather disgruntled looking stallion.

“Charon if you're finished, then I would like to get to get to the reason why I called you in the first place; I don’t have all night.”

The dispassion of the caller caused Charon to subconsciously flinch. Demeaned by the older stallion, Charon shook his head. “ Yeah. I’m done. Lets get on with it.”

Snakes lifted his leg (glimpsing at his watch) before looking back at Charon, “ Because of your antics we have wasted three minutes of time that we don’t have.”

“Well pardon me, but I don’t remember you volunteering to get your flank kicked for this job, so if you want to lecture me I would be more than happy to oblige you but as you said we are short on time.”

The older stallion seemed a bit taken aback by the young Mortician's words - he only spoke this way when he was truly irritated with somepony or something.

Snakes spoke his voice regaining its usual monotone, “Did you manage to get the Diamond dogs to steal the tracking charm?

A small grim found its way to the grey stallion's face as he turned away from the mirror, “Of course I did Snakes! I mean, it took no effort on my part. They're so greedy they took everything without even checking it.”

“Good: they shouldn't have gone too far from here. I expect us to be ready to strike within the week.” Again, spoken in a matter-of-fact-like tone.

Charon could only nod in response, a look of both determination and excitement filling his face. “And this time I don’t have to let them beat the buck out of me. I'd say it’s time for some payback.”

Snake gave him a stern look his face becoming that of stone, “Just remember our objective is not to kill them; merely get the information that we need and them move on. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Charon?”

The pony in question gave a grunt before continuing out into the crisp Manehattan night.

The Next Day

There it was again, that annoying voice. A repetition of the same sentence, a chant, it began to grate on Charon's nerves. He was almost used to hearing almost every morning, and like most mornings the voice went largely unnoticed. This was, of course, until the voice lobbed a heavy sack onto the sleeping form.

The grey unicorn shook off his sleep, raising himself in order to step out of bed. The offending bag jingled with the feel of bits. However, it had also left a bruise. Charon hunted for the source, but whoever had thrown the bag at him had already taken their leave.

Charon lived alone in an apartment in midtown Manehatten. It wasn't a dump, but it wasn't a Canterlot penthouse either. To him it was home and his home had been invaded by the very pony he had been dreaming about not but four minutes ago.

“Snakes...” Charon whispered to himself as he made his way toward the sweet aroma of brewing coffee, it was a beverage that most ponies found too strong or pungent to drink; most still only drank tea. He had too, up until he picked up the bad habit from his guest.

As Charon entered his small kitchen, he became aware of another presence in the room. The grey stallion let out an exasperated breath as he caught sight of a pony he had hoped to avoid. Alas, life (and Snakes) had other plans for him today.

“Good morning, Charon. Judging by your appearance, you were a busy bee last night - care to share the details?”

The question came from a white Pegasus stallion clad in the gold armour of the Royal Guard.

“So what if I was?” Charon said as his overall mood had gone from being happy to completely and unequivocally pissed off.

This earned a chuckle from the white Pegasus before he turned his attention from Charon to Snakes, who stood in the kitchen carrying on about his business - as if nothing was happening in the next room over.

“Well, you weren't kidding when you said he wasn't a morning pony.” The Pegasus barked out a laugh as he set about finding a seat.

Snakes did little more than give him a nod before pulling up a chair. Both sat around a small table in what could be considered the dining room.

“Now Charon, need I remind you that while you reside here in Manehatten - under your work visa - you must and will abide by the laws of the city.”  The guard now stood only inches from the now visibly seething Mortician.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Charon answered with venom in his voice, “Crystal clear.....sir.”

The Guard gave a diabolical grin at the Mortician's submission before replacing his helm and walking toward the door, as he passed Charon he made sure to bump into his side further - to assert his dominance over the grey stallion.

While he made his way toward the door Charon gritted his teeth and kept his eyes locked on Snakes. From the kitchen, a glare held Charon. Remember your place.

“I hope I don’t have to come back here gentlemen, because my next visit won't be all sunshine and celery stalks.” The guard's haughty words floated back as he made his way out the door.

“Especially you, Charon.”

It wasn't merely the smug tone, but the look in the guard's eyes. They seemed to gleam with both a knowing and a sinister intent Charon had seen before.

As the door shut both ponies sat in silence just staring at each other, Snakes spoke his voice giving no emotion, “Charon. Can you please tell me what the buck you did last night?”

Charon’s eyes went wide as his best friend and mentor began to shake with anger and rage. For him to erupt like this was a rare thing indeed.It was never a pleasant time when he did.

“I...uh...I was go-”

The sound of glass breaking cased the mortician to abruptly stop, looking at him was a visible enraged Snakes and in front of him was a shattered cup with hot coffee slowly spreading across the table and onto the floor.

“DAMN IT ALL TO TARTARUS CHARON! WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT? HUH? CAN YOU EVEN FATHOM THE SIGNIFICANCE?

Charon had only seen Snakes this angry a couple of times. The last time involved a "conversation" with a slave trafficker. Certainly, nothing Charon had done before brought this upon himself.

The green stallion had moved from his seat and in only five steps was in Charon’s face. His eyes burned with wrath as he continued blasting the younger pony. “WELL, ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME? CELESTIA DAMN IT, OR ARE YOU GOING TO SIT THERE LOOKING LIKE AN IDIOT ALL DAY!

Charon’s ears were flat as he was slowly being backed into the wall. “Snakes it's...it's not like that I was in control this time I swear, I only killed them to protect the ponies they were attacking.”

Snakes reigned his fury in, pausing to pull in ragged breaths. Before Charon could loosen up, though, he was pierced by cold eyes. Speaking as if by rote, Snakes began recalling the criminal report.

“A raid on a criminal hideout left several Dogs and ponies dead. The former, known associates of the elusive gang 'Black Mange', were reportedly assaulted by an unknown vigilante. Autopsy reports the Dogs' wounds were inflicted with a lacerated cutting tool...

Charon's eyes were bigger than dinner plates as the green stallion changed tracks. “Not yourself? One only uses a  hack saw to maim if they're out for blood."

“N...no Snake I swear I....I didn't g-”

Within a second, Charon found himself pinned against the wall. Snakes held him upright, hoof poised over his throat while holding him down with the other. For a moment, his stony face showed a trace of disappointment and concern.

“Charon. The day you joined up I swore that I would take care of you as if you were my own family, but that also means getting you help when you need it. I need a pony, not a bomb. Not even I would keep you from the sanitorium if you kept this up."

Charon felt his blood chill at the very mention of the word. Greson Sanitorium was an asylum he had been sent to once when the...incident first happened. Charon was never the same, shaken from his weeks spent there. He never spoke of the horrors to anyone, never could shake off the dark shadow over his mind. Even Snakes, his only confident, knew only so little.

"The lack of self-control costed those ponies their lives, you know. Your assault preempted any negotiations, and panicked them enough to kill their hostages to escape. Think about this, then."

“I understand... now please, get off of me.” Charon spoke his voice almost a whisper.

Snake slowly moved his hooves from Charon’s throat and chest, letting him fall. He walked to the door, grabbed his fedora, and stopped to leave his last words.

“Charon.”

The mortician turned to acknowledge his mentor while rubbing the spot where Snakes had planted his hoof. “Y...yes?”

“As of this moment you are suspended from service until I deem you fit to return. I will be monitoring your actions at all times. If I get so much as one shady report I will personally beat you myself, dragging you back to the Sanitorium. Do you understand me? Control it!

“Y.....yes Snakes I understand.” Charon could only stare at the floor as the door closed: signaling that his flank chewing was finished. He was left with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that his closest friend -  who had claimed the lives of everypony were under his protection - now held his, in hoof. No word summed up Charon's life better, or how he felt now, than one.

He was screwed.