Kleptomania

by Divide

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Other, Original Character
Length: 6093

After a kleptomaniac human finds himself in Equestria due to a heist gone wrong, he joins the local crime syndicate and puts his skills to good (bad) use.

I love to steal. The thrill of the theft, the shivers that go down my spine when I pilfer someone's valuable or rare object... it's an adrenaline rush.

Back on Earth, my job was damn difficult. Laser tripwires, security cameras, alarm systems, and armed guards were just some of the things I had to deal with on an almost-daily basis if I wanted to make ends meet. Here in Equestria, though... it's almost as if they want me to steal from them. It's a cakewalk. Even with Fence taking a portion of the value when he sells my stolen goods, I'm still practically rolling in bits.

Surely nothing bad could come of this at all... right?

Published 2013-03-31 13:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-08-26 21:54:26 UTC

Chapter One: Like a Thief

Kleptomania

Chapter One: Like a Thief

My eyes shined when I finally laid eyes upon the mountainous pile of loot. With a grin that everybody else called 'greedy', but I called 'avaricious', I quietly snuck my way over to the massive stash that was full of gems, gold, and just about everything else that would fill my pocket with the cold, hard coins that was the currency of this world.

And they called me crazy for even thinking about taking this job! I started stuffing the largest precious gems and the nicest golden jewellery into the reinforced bag that I carried over my shoulder. I felt like a reverse Santa Claus!

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch...

I almost started whistling along with the song, but I caught myself before I revealed my position to the dragon that was currently stretching his wings outside the cave.

A violent rumble jolted me out of my whimsical memories, causing me to lose my balance and fall into the treasure trove. Little known fact: gems and other valuable objects are not soft. I swore as I fell down, and grumbled as I righted myself. I checked myself for any injuries, wincing when I noticed that the sharp edge of something had cut me through my black shirt, deep enough to bleed, but not deep enough to be a serious injury. I realized that I had left my blood at the scene of a theft. My thoughts flickered wildly on how to remove the blood.

Bleach? No, they didn't have that here. Fire? Could I burn this place down behind me? A quick look around reminded me that I was currently in a cave embedded deep within a mountain. Shit! Was I going to have to—?

My frantic thoughts stopped in their tracks with a sudden realization. Smacking myself in the head, I muttered aloud, "What the fuck am I thinking? They can't track my DNA here. I'm in a goddamn whole other world."

Stupid! Stupid idiot! I've been here for how long? And I still forget that I'm not on Earth anymore?

Feeling annoyed at my short-sightedness, I continued to grab the most valuable objects that I could. My thoughts drifted to what could have caused the tremor that knocked me over. I figured that the dragon must've gone for a quick flight or something, and as long as he didn't return in the next minute or two, I was golden.

My nimble fingers found a solid gold bar. Oh yes, I was definitely golden.

As I rummaged through the pile, I found a strange, smooth statue made of an unknown material. I subconsciously brought one hand to my chin as I studied the statue, stroking the two day beard underneath the balaclava I wore over my face. The ski-mask wasn't to hide my identity, as I was easy to spot, given that I was the only one of my kind here. I only wore it out of habit and nostalgia; it was one of the only things I still had left from my own planet.

I studied the statue, and noticed some faint, glowing inscriptions that wound throughout the strange effigy. Being the consummate kleptomaniac that I was, I had a list of rules for the unknown quantities that my heists would inevitably uncover.

Rule One: If it looked valuable, it probably was.

Rule Two: Refer to step one.

Smiling to myself as I remembered the rules, I merrily chucked the statue in with the rest of the loot I had acquired. God, I loved my job. I continued to fill up my swag bag, my gloved hands nimbly picking out the most valuable items of the bunch. By the time my bag was finally reaching its limit, I realized that I had actually made a sizeable dent into the dragon's hoard.

Hah! 'Don't steal from a dragon,' they said. 'It'll charbroil my pasty flank,' they said! I tied the bag and hoisted it over my shoulder, glad that I paid the extra money to have a unicorn put a weight-reducing spell on it. The enchantment that had been wrought upon it reduced the weight of the contents to nearly one fifth of their original weight, which continued to please me to no end.

Even with the enchantment however, my bag of loot was still somewhat heavy. Unfortunately, it was still extremely cumbersome, as the weight-reduction did nothing to decrease the actual matter that the objects took up. Confusing, I know, but that was magic for you. With a smile that turned into a grimace when something sharp poked me in my spine, I tiptoed back to the hole in the cave that had been my entry point. I confidently lowered myself into the hole first. Piece of cake. I should do this more often. There had to be around nine to ten thousand bits worth of loot just in this bag alone!

I pulled the bag in after myself with my fingers crossed, praying that the bag would be able to fit, as I hadn't measured the diameter of the hole beforehand. "Hell yeah!" I exclaimed when the bag fell in after me, its bulky form managing to fit by a margin of only a few centimetres. Note to self: measure the bloody hole next time! Wouldn't want to go through all that trouble and then have it get stuck, would we?

I stifled a childish giggle. Getting stuck in the hole...

Laughing with maniacal glee, I dragged the bag through the small tunnel that I had dug several days ago in preparation for the heist. I had to work slowly and methodically, else the dragon would've caught on to my dastardly plan.

The clinks and clanks of the treasure inside the bag were music to my ears as I hoisted it over my shoulder and jumped down the incline of the mountain, the thrill of the theft pumping my body full of adrenaline. "Kiss my ass, you fat flying lizard!" I yelled triumphantly as I slid down the side of the mountain, narrowly avoiding the brambles and trees that grew along the slope.

As I cackled again, I heard the dragon let out a blood-curdling roar, a sound that chilled me to the bone, took away my sudden burst of energy, and caused me to freeze in place. Maybe he just—

*ROAAAAAAAR*

"Oh tits!" I screamed as the adrenaline my kleptomania provided me with was replaced by the adrenaline caused by pure, unadulterated fear. My legs started moving of their own accord, sprinting down the side of the mountain with the power of gravity on my side. This can't be happening! I'm going to wake up and this will be a bad dream!

I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince: myself, or the dragon that was chasing me.

*ROAAAAAAAR*

The roar of the dragon came from almost directly above me, which sent another wave of primal fear through my body. I put on yet another burst of speed as I ran. I was going so fast that the vegetation was starting to blur around me, the sack of loot that kept jabbing into my back the only reminder that this wasn't a crazed, nightmarish fantasy. I directed myself into the thickest patch of greenery that I could, trying to lose the dragon that was right on my metaphorical tail. Crashing through the shrubs and flora, I kept running, the voice in the back of my head telling me not to slow down for anything.

When I noticed that I had ran out of the patch of vegetation and was now running straight towards the edge of a cliff, the voice rescinded its earlier statement by telling me that I was allowed to slow down for cliffs. Taking my own advice, I abruptly stopped running and dug the heels of my shoes into the rocky, clay earth beneath my feet in an attempt to slow down.

This had the unfortunate side effect of causing me to lose my already precarious balance and trip, making me fall ass-over-teakettle. As I flipped in mid-air, time seemed to slow and I had what felt like an hour of time to think. My thoughts went as follows.

There's no way that this is happening. No freaking way. I'm back at the Institute, asleep in my cot, and this is all a bad dream.

A roar shattered that illusion.

Are you fucking kidding me?! Everything was going great! Why now, after the fact, is this stupid goddamn dragon chasing me?! He could've found me at any other time, but no!

Can't a guy steal things for a living? Is that so bad? You know what, I'll trade you the loot for my life. Sound like a deal, fate?

No response.

Why...? Why me? What did I do to deserve—oh. Right.

Well... at least I'll go out in a blaze of glory. Stupid dragon...

I hit the ground face-first, with the bag crushing me further into the ground as it landed on top of my torso. I heard a sickening crunch as my vision filled with stars from the impact. Groaning, I opened one eye and almost had a heart attack when I saw nothing below I but the tops of various trees. "Gah!" I exclaimed as I scrambled backwards from the several hundred foot drop.

With the hand that didn't currently have a death-grip on my loot bag, I quickly checked myself over for any breaks or sprains. Luckily, I only had two broken ribs and a broken toe. I wasn't sure which one.

"Fuck me, that was close," I said wearily as I wiped the sweat of off my brow. My glove came away sticky with blood. Great. Add head wound and possible concussion to my ever-growing list of injuries. So this is why they called me nuts. Fence better have made nice with Silver; these wounds ain't gonna heal themselves.

I looked around, and to my infinite joy, saw that there was no dragon in sight. I nearly danced a little jig. In fact, I would've, had it not been for a large gust of wind and a streak of red emerging from the flat plateau in front of me.

A gust of hot air breathed through the cloud of dust, dispersing it and ruining all thoughts of my success. The large, blood-red dragon that I had tried to outrun stood not ten metres away, its tree-trunk thick foreleg blocking off a goat path, which was my only chance of escape. I slowly craned my neck upwards, my eyes slowly going over the dragon's massive, scaled body. After an eternity, I finally managed to look at the overgrown reptile's eyes. They were pitch black, and they did not look amused.

"Oh shit."

The dragon's eyes glittered and seemed to say, 'Yep'.

The winged beast looked up at the sky and opened its maw; a torrent of white flame came out, the air around it distorted from the intense heat of the flames. I knew that the lighter coloured the fire was, the hotter it burned. The dragon turned his attention to back to me and I swear that it was wearing a sadistic grin on its face as it breathed in, preparing to bathe me in an inferno.

I did the only thing that I could to escape becoming a charbroiled man-burger: I jumped backwards off of the cliff, twisting in midair as I fell. I felt an intense heat on my back, enough so that I could feel the blisters start to rise on my shoulders. Screaming in pain and exhilaration as I fell, I flailed myself in an attempt to direct myself towards the softest possible landing site: the top of a big, deciduous tree. The bag of loot was securely and frantically held tight to my chest.

Of all the movies and cartoons that I had seen, it seemed to be the most plausible choice. I tried to convince myself that this wasn't insane. I mean, it had to be deciduous trees for a reason, right?

I crashed into the tree at the speed of freefall. It wasn't as soft as I hoped it was.

\\\

"There is no way, no godforsaken way that I'm doing that again!" I yelled in agitation to the grey earth pony in front of me. "Do you think I have a death wish?!"

"No need to get so... emotional over it. I am just offering, since you were the only one who has come back alive from stealing a dragon's hoard. There is a lot of money to be made from dragons, comrade..."

"I already said 'No', Fence. I like to keep my skin smooth, not crispy, thank you very much," I replied. My shoulders ached where the blisters had been, but thanks to Silver, a unicorn on Fence's payroll, I was feeling hunky-dory, considering the circumstances. Thank Christ for unicorn magic.

Fence rolled his eyes. "You know, you did not have to take me up on the job. I was mostly joking about it, anyway."

"Have I ever been one to refuse a job? C'mon man, you should know me better than that by now..."

"I do know you well, my friend. Perhaps better than you know yourself." Motioning towards the unopened and slightly-scorched bag that lay sprawled upon the metal table, he asked, "Shall we?"

Holding my bandaged head with one hand and motioning towards the loot with the other, I said, "Be my guest."

Frowning, Fence said, "Technically, you're my guest. Unless, of course, you somehow managed to steal the entire Institution out from under me."

I chuckled. Sometimes, the finer parts of Fence's English—or Equestrian, I suppose, even though the two are one and the same—left a lot to be desired. "It's a figure of speech where I come from, Fence, and I'm pretty sure it's one here too. For crying out loud, you spend more time in the city than I do."

Fence laughed as well. "Da, that may be true, but tell me this: Who do you think is the one selling all of the... reciprocated goods that you and the others manage to procure?"

I snorted and said, "It's all you, brother."

Frowning again, Fence said, "But we are not bro—...oh, I see. Another figure of speech, da?"

"Da, comrade," I said in my best imitation of a Russian accent. Fence's accent was eerily similar to Russian, even though he proclaimed to be from 'the great city of Stalliongrad.' I had filed away the accent, along with several other strange similarities to Earth, to simply being extremely coincidental.

Fence and I made our way over to the table, with me carefully avoiding the bloodstains that dotted the floor. We had used the Institution as our headquarters for almost four months now, but I still haven't asked where the bloodstains came from. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know.

"By Celestia... you were not joking when you said that you could not fit anything else in the bag," he said after pulling the string that kept the bag closed open with his teeth.

I laughed, then winced when my ribs let out an angry protest. Magic was incredible, but it wasn't perfect: I'd have to heal the bruising on my own. "You'd better believe it."

Fence raised an eyebrow. "More colloquialisms?" I nodded.

Turning his attention back to the sack of treasure, he asked, "Can you empty it onto the table for me? Seeing as how I do not have your strange appendages..."

I gave him a look that was not amused. "For the twenty-seventh and last time, they're called 'hands'!" Fence just grinned and nodded. I grabbed the back of the bag and pulled, shaking it as the contents started to spill out. It took longer than even I thought it would, showing just how much stuff I managed to steal.

Fence whistled. "Quite a haul, if I must say. Hurry up and take your pick. Shift and Cloak should be here soon and the longer you stand there, the longer it takes for us to get paid."

I shivered, remembering the pegasus twins. There was something... off about them. My feelings about people were generally spot on, and ponies were no exception. "Are you sure about them, Fence? I'd much rather we go with somebody we know better, like Seeker."

Fence raised an eyebrow and said, "I would rather do the same, but Shift and Cloak pay a lot better than Seeker does. I know you don't like them, but you are not the one having to deal with them: I am."

And I was damn lucky that I didn't. I don't need to talk to them to know that they're creepy bastards. Sighing, I kept my thoughts to myself. "Fair enough," I replied as I started to scan over the stolen treasure trove.

My eyes were drawn to a goblet made of gold, but encrusted with so many diamonds that it looked like it was left outside on a particularly cold morning. I made to grab the goblet, but stopped when I saw the same strange statue from before—the one covered in glowing script—out of the corner of my eye. The intricate, glowing carvings entranced me, enough so that I picked the sculpture up instead of the diamond goblet. I stared at the statue for several seconds, marvelling in its beauty.

"Why?"

The question startled me out of my stupor. "Pardon? Why what?"

"Why do you do this? If you were in it for the money, you would not have requested that we sell this to Seeker, nor would you have picked that statue over the diamond chalice," explained Fence.

I stared at the statue, wondering how well it would go with all the other items that I had kept from the aftermath of my heists. "I steal because it makes me happy, Fence. I thieve because it brings a smile to my face. I loot because it gives me a rush that nothing else in the world does."

I turned to my employer with a grin on my face. "I'm a kleptomaniac, Fence. Stealing is my addiction, and if I happen to bring in some money while I feed my addiction, then that just makes it all the sweeter."

The slate grey earth pony smiled in return. "Are all humans as strange as you, comrade?"

"No."

I looked back at the statue.

"Most are even stranger."

Fence opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped when a jangle of bells was heard. He looked at me seriously and said, "They are here. Go and rest. This should not take long."

"Thank Silver for me next time I see her, 'kay? By the time I wake up, she's always gone," I said as I walked towards the old, repurposed jail cell that I called home. "If anything, I should be the one leaving her alone in bed..."

Fence rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I will tell Silver that next time I see her. Now get going! Don't want the twins to spot you, da?"

I shuddered involuntarily. "Wouldn't want that," I muttered under my breath. Speaking a little louder, I said, "I'm lucky that I met you, Fence. Talk to you later."

The earth pony nodded, his attention switching to where the buyers would come from. I made my way towards my cell, my mind calling back memories of the first day that I appeared in Equestria.

A museum heist gone wrong, a flash of light, an intense, indescribable pain... waking up in a foreign environment, on an alien world, in the middle of night. Being kicked and abused by the first ponies that saw me, being called 'the most bucked-up diamond dog' that they'd ever seen. I shuddered as I remembered how I came to be in this strange, pony-filled land, the beat down, and the mental breakdown I had soon after.

Bloodied and dirtied and wishing that I had died instead, I crawled on my hands and knees along the streets of Manehattan until I found an alleyway to slip in to. It was there that I accidently stumbled upon Fence, an immigrant that had moved to Manehattan in an attempt to escape from the slums of Stalliongrad. He didn't know what I was, nor I him, but after talking for a few hours under the light of the moon, we both realized that we were kindred souls from different worlds.

Fence didn't care that I was an alien, an extraterrestrial to Equestria, and I didn't care that he stole to eke out a living on the street. We formed a shaky, and to us then, temporary, alliance: I would steal things, and Fence would sell them to one of his numerous contacts.

I blinked, knocking myself out of my reverie. It was amazing how far we'd come, in such a short time. We'd grown from a two-man team operating out of an abandoned alleyway to a full-fledged criminal organization that, in Manehattan's premier newspaper, Equestria Daily's own words, was the 'most elusive criminal enterprise in recent history.'

I was damn proud of that fact, too.

I felt a brief pang of loss upon remembering that I could never go back to where I once belonged, but after looking back at the statue held in my hand, I realized that Equestria was the place for me.

I opened up the lock on the cell door with the key that I kept hidden on my person, and locked the door behind me. I proceeded to flop onto my bed, the cot eliciting a sproing sound, the statue still clenched tightly in my hand.

Never again. Stealing from ponies is easy. Thieving from diamond dogs was more difficult, but still doable. Gryphons were a pain in the ass, mostly because the ones that lived in Equestria were paranoid as hell. Dragons? Fuck that. I was a thief, not a miracle worker.

Man, I quit three years ago... but damn, I could use a cigarette right about now.

Forcing myself upright, I pulled out the duffel bag out from under my cot, wincing as my shoulders twinged from the effort. I opened up the bag and took a moment to revel in the feeling of pleasure I received from just looking at the fruits of my labour. Whole diamonds the size of a baseball, necklaces that wouldn't look out of place on the God-King Xerxes, and a crown inlaid with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and just about every other conceivable gem were just a few of the things that I had kept.

My precious...

I wrapped the statue in a cloth and placed it amongst the other valuables, smiling as I did so. My eyes were drawn to the leather bag of bits that took up the majority of space in my bag. I knew exactly how much was in there, as I had counted it before I hiked over to that god-forsaken mountain. Two hundred and sixty-five thousand, nine hundred and five. Enough money to sustain me for the rest of my days in Equestria.

When I first began my crime spree, my addiction was so easy to feed that I thought each home I visited was baited. Only later, when people started putting locks on their windows and spells on their doors did I start having even a semblance of difficulty. Even with these extra measures, I couldn't believe how easy it was to break in to peopl—... pony's homes. It's like they never expect a biped to steal from them...

Sighing and putting my thoughts aside for now, I zipped my duffel bag back up and slid it under my bed. I laid down on the soft mattress, and tried to fall asleep. The same feeling of unease that I felt when Fence mentioned Cloak and Shift kept coming back, against all of my attempts to dispel the feeling.

Something was wrong, and I could feel it. My tired body eventually silence my paranoia, and I fell asleep dreaming of Earth, something that hadn't happened in what seemed like forever.

Chapter Three: Problem Solving

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Four: When Push Comes to Shove

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Two: Stuck in the Middle With You

Chapter Two: Problem Solving

Kleptomania

Chapter Two: Problem Solving

I awoke to the sound of a hoof rapping on my cell door. I knew that it was a hoof by the specific clonking noise it made. Hooves on Equestrian ponies were the strangest things—they were hard enough to protect the owner from the roughest surfaces, yet the underside was soft enough that they felt like silk when you touched them. Another anomaly that I have observed first hand—hah!— is their ability to manipulate hooves with enough precision to pick up simple objects.

Quite frankly, it shouldn't be possible. Then again, 'shouldn't be possible' aptly describes nearly everything that's happened to me.

I clambered out of my bed, kicking off my clingy blanket when it decided that it wanted to come see who woke me up, too. I stumbled over to the cell door and pulled the sheets that I used as blinds aside, one hand attempting to shade my eyes from the bright kerosene lamp that seemed to be hovering just outside.

"Oh, so you are still alive!" said a cheerful, feminine voice.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. The pony in question was Umbra, my self-proclaimed protégé. Ever since our paths crossed, she'd taken up an almost godlike reverence towards me. More specifically, towards my abilities. And while she stroked my ego a good amount, teaching her the basics from the ground up hadn't been high up on my to-do list.

"It'll take more than an angry dragon to bring me down," I said half-heartedly, not really feeling the whole 'friendly banter' thing. I wasn't a morning person. Or was it even morning? I consulted my watch, an eighteen-karat authentic Rolex. According to my timepiece, it was half-past one. Whether that was in the afternoon or the morning remained to be seen.

"What's got your... knickers in a bunch? Is that right?" she asked.

That earned a chuckle from me. Slowly but surely, my colloquialisms were catching on and spreading throughout our little society.

"Yeah, that's right," I replied, blinking repeatedly in a vain attempt to regain my night vision faster. "And why do you think I'm grumpy?"

"Probably 'cause I woke up your pasty flank at one in the morning," Umbra said. I groaned. "Don't give me that! You've woke me up plenty of times—now I finally get to return the favour!"

I suppose it was only fair. After all, I had been a bit of a prick when it came to Umbra's sleep schedule. What? Master thieves aren't allowed to get ten hours of beauty sleep. "Fair enough, padawan," I relented.

I saw her flickering shadow tilt its head in confusion. "'Padawan?'"

"Trainee. Recruit. Apprentice." I put specific emphasis on the last word.

She huffed. "Not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it!"

Utilizing the brief pause in our conversation, I looked down and realized that I was wearing only my boxers. So that was where that breeze was coming from. Evidently, I'd woken up sometime and removed my outer apparel, since I didn't remember undressing before I collapsed into bed.

"So... why am I standing here in my underwear talking to you when I could be sleeping?" I asked seriously.

"Because you look all cute and smooth without your clothes on?"

I glared at her. I must've looked extremely un-amused, because she quickly answered my question without joking.

"Well... remember that factory down on the waterfront?" Umbra rubbed her foreleg with a hoof.

I nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "What about it?"

"Well... I kinda-sorta... need your help."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And why is that? If I remember correctly, your brother already planned a route for you," I said, trying to look around the blinding glare of the dancing flames. "And for crying out loud; put the bloody lamp down, would you kindly?"

The kerosene lamp bobbed and lowered to the ground. Slowly but surely, I began to make out the unicorn in front of me. She was sitting on her haunches a few feet outside my cell door, cat-eye yellow eyes looking up at me, then flashing downward when I made eye contact.

"Well..."

"Quit saying well!"

Umbra winced like I'd slapped her. I meant to apologize, but she didn't give me the chance.

"Yeah, Lumis scouted ahead and found me a route to take. An old, unused pipe branches off from the main sewers and goes almost directly underneath the factory floor."

She sighed. "But that's not the part I need help with. In the Headmaster's office, where all the goods are kept, there's some sort of magical pacification resonation barrier that I can't get past..."

I blinked. Several times. "'Magical pacific... reso-what barrier?'"

Umbra placed a hoof over her face and slowly dragged it downwards. "Magical pacification resonation barrier!" she exclaimed. My blank stare must've been worth a thousand words, because she simplified it for my poor, tired, un-caffeinated brain. "Magic users can't cross it," she stated, "and it's placed along the only entranceway into the Headmaster's office."

Well, sheesh! Why didn't she just say so in the first place?

"So you want me to filch the stash 'cause I don't have any magic?" I deduced brilliantly, the gears in my head slowly churning and dispersing the dust that had accumulated over however many hours I had actually slept.

"Filch?" she questioned.

"Steal."

After thinking for a moment, she nodded.

Scratching the back of my neck, I glanced behind me at the warm, cozy, and oh-so-welcoming cot. "If you need someone without magic, why don't you ask an earth pony? Mandy and Cutter are around, aren't they?"

Umbra shook her head, her short grey mane swaying with and covering one eye. She habitually brushed it aside and said, "Bolt's busy with a job, and Mandy Orange is off visiting his relatives. Mandy said that they came all the way over from some little town by Canterlot, and he couldn't brush it off."

Ugh. I closed my eyes for a moment, composing myself for what was to come.

"Alright," I sighed. "I'll do it. I'll do all the heavy lifting while you sit back and watch."

"Yes!" I swear, the squeal that came out of Umbra's mouth sounded like a schoolgirl getting asked on her first date. "Yesyesyes! Thankyouthankyouthankyou—"

"Yes, yes, you're welcome and all that jazz. Now give me some damned privacy, would you?"

I saw a mischievous glint appear in her eyes. "Why can't I stay and watch?" she teased.

"Because this is national security stuff. Top secret," I quickly replied while shutting the blinds, leaving only Umbra's silhouette and the cell bars. "Now scram before I change my mind about helping you out!"

Cackling softly, Umbra's form dashed away, taking the light with her, and leaving me in the dark once more. I debated crawling back into bed based on principle alone, but reluctantly dissuaded myself after I realized that would get me nowhere. Besides: I was awake and alert—for the most part, anyway—and sleep wouldn't come quickly no matter how hard I tried.

Letting a soft sigh escape my lips, I began rummaging for my thieving clothes.

\\\

We left the Institute, Umbra and I, through perhaps one of the most clichéd exits that an organization such as ours would possess: an old manhole cover that leads to an abandoned alleyway on one Manehattan's fringe streets. I thought that it had been a joke originally, but according to the ponies, it was one of the most clever and ingenious ways to enter and exit. Funny how some things work.

The Institute, however, was no joke.

Originally used as an underground prison for the worst of the worst, the Institute was never officially acknowledged by the princesses, nor even by the city. Every question directed towards it by curious townspeople who swore that they heard sounds coming from beneath the road were deflected or downright ignored. Even investigative journalists, ponies who dug up information for a living, couldn't declare whether the Institute existed or not. Hell, they couldn't even find a name.

And thusly, the legend of the Institute was born. The place where naughty foals, cheating husbands, and petty thieves went in, but never came out.

I didn't think it was that terrifying, and I lived in it. I mean, sure, there were a few red stains here and there that wouldn't come out, along with some age-old torture equipment that gave it a very medieval feel—

On second thought...

Regardless of how spooky the place actually was, it was home, and the myths surrounding it actively prevented any curious ponies from digging their noses into places they shouldn't.

I gently slid aside the manhole—there was no way in hell that I was calling it a 'stallion-hole'—and poked my balaclava-covered head out first to make sure that no ponies were scuttling around the secret exit. When I deduced that the coast was clear, I agilely clambered up the rest of the way, Umbra following in my wake. The ladder steps leading down were much wider and far less steep than the human variety, allowing all types of ponies to use them. To me, it felt like walking up stairs designed for the elderly.

When my partner-in-crime had climbed up and out, I slid the cover pack into place, eliciting only a small noise of protest as it scraped along the cobblestone.

"Lead the way," I whispered.

Umbra nodded and began a slow jog along and out of the alleyway, her hooves muffled with black fabric. I followed her from a respectful distance away—close, but not too close. We snuck along the storefronts, most of them abandoned with their doors and window boarded up. Although we stuck to the shadows and hid from every passerby—most were drunkards stumbling around, since no respectable pony would be out at this time—we still made good time, arriving at the waterfront factory within twenty minutes of leaving.

I took a second to observe the factory. It was a large, rectangular, grey building with no windows and seemed to only have a single entrance. Metal support struts embraced each corner of the concrete mass, and all around the factory laid a spectrum of different coloured shipping crates. It was a miracle of modern magic and engineering... up to and including the roiling black smog that rose from the solitary smokestack.

I shook my head. While I wasn't one to warrant the destruction of progress, I wouldn't be disappointed if some gang of riotous ruffians decided to sabotage the facility: Equestria could use a few more years of pollution-free air.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to do this?" asked Umbra, breaking me out of my reverie.

Grinning wryly, I responded, "That's what my first girlfriend said." Now it was her turn to give me the evil eye. "I'm still waiting on you," I reminded her. "I didn't see your brother's outline."

She said something that was hardly ladylike—err, marelike—in return, and then continued on the way, with me shadowing her. We slid down an old and disused breakwater, and carefully inched our way along a small concrete pad that jutted out of the side; Umbra was our only guide, and a combination of moonlight and flickering streetlamps was our only source of light. I was forced to duck my head and scrunch my shoulders: if I stood straight up, my covered cranium would be visible to any ponies that decided to look down from the sidewalk.

We travelled thusly for longer than I had anticipated; enough so that I was breaking a sweat, hunched over with my muscles tensed for as long I was. When we finally came to the old entrance pipe, I felt like I could've wrung my balaclava out, it was so drenched.

"Ladies first?" I asked.

Umbra rolled her eyes and climbed into the hole. Everything seemed to be going splendidly—until I heard a shriek of surprise followed by a strained grunt.

"What's wrong?"

"I think..."

Umbra's voice seemed distant and echo-y, even thought she was merely a few feet in. Her colouring made it so that I could barely make out her form amongst the dark of the pipe. I heard her gulp nervously.

"I think I'm stuck. "