Darke Life

I followed Amber and Crimson Mane up the stairs in a hurry. "Amber wait! I'm sorry!"

She was sitting in the corner, hunched down with her hooves over her ears. Crimson Mane stood nearby with his hoof on her shoulder.

I stopped. "Uhm.... is she...?" Shadow Coat nodded.

"She gets mindbucks sometimes, so just try to keep from mentioning whatever's got in her head this time."

Amber slowly stood up and turned around to face us. Suddenly, she looked angry. "Not a mindbuck this time. A call. My father is challenging me to come fight him."

"Oh." Shadow Coat turned to exit back into the basement.

"Are we really going to do it Amber?" I asked sheepishly.

"Buck yeah. You honestly think I told everyone all that as some sort of twisted bedtime story? We leave tomorrow morning."

~

Amber and I made it back to her home in no time. Suddenly in the sunrise, I saw her house for what it truly was. There were bloodlines down the house that appeared to be recent. Scratches were everywhere in the wood, and some windows were boarded over. My best guess was to keep prying eyes out. Around the house was a broken wrap-around deck with quite a few boards missing. This too was covered in a bloody mess.

"How do you live like this." I pondered aloud. Suddenly Amber's ears pricked up.

"What? This is the way I have lived for years."

"How many?"

".... nine years."

"How old were you when you started living here?"

"Five. Just after I killed my foster family."

"Oh. Sorry." I opened the door for Amber and followed her to the basement.

"It's fine. I mean, meh, sure, it shook me up, but in a good way. My life has improved since the incident. No more abuse, and all the others at school were too afraid of me to mess with me. And for those who weren't...." She pulled a green crystal out of her mane and swung it through the air.

"So I see."

She tossed the crystal aside and nodded.

"So wait, you're only fourteen?"

"No. Thirteen."

"But you said nine years."

"So my math was off. Calm your cutie mark."

"Excuse me, you pyro, but I don't have a tattoo on my ass like you do."

"Good point."

"So, back to telling me about yourself..."

"Amber Heart Darke, or Darke Amber, or Darke Heart, thirteen years of age. Black mane, orange coat, red and sky-blue eyes. Fire cutie mark, which is really just a burn. Retired assassin, very few friends, atelophobic, clinomanic," She took a breath, "Can't handle being near many others at once, violent cuddler, shy kisser, and daughter of King Sombra. That's basically my life right there. Oh, and I love going to Starbucks." She looked up at me as she neared the end of the stairs. "Anything else you wanna know?"

"Nope." I chuckled, "But, uh, what's an atelophobic?"

"Atelophobia is the fear of not being good enough for the special somepony you love."

"Oh. I have that for a couple girls..." I blushed and rubbed my neck. "Clinomanic?"

"Clinomania is not wanting to get out of bed when you have something important to do."

"Guess we share a couple traits."

"So I see. Hey Crash." She elbowed the dark Pegasus and trotted away. He looked up from the desk and rubbed his eyes.

"Damned mare, I was having the best dream."

"And honestly, we'd love to hear it. Wouldn't we, Trevor? But I need your help first. I'm going to face my father and I need some armor and smoke grenades."

He looked pleased. "Facing your father? Can I tag along? I'd love to see you ripped to shreds."

~

It took Crash five minutes to get at least forty different grenades into a pile. He was snickering deviously, and his wings were flared out to help him move faster. I stared at an array of M67 frags, M18 smoke grenades, and strange enough, Molotovs made from apple liquor.

"Amber?"

"Oh, you'll have to give her a moment Trevor. She is changing in the other room."

"Why? Ponies don't need to wear clothes like humans do. They don't have to worry about their bodies."

"True, she is one of very few ponies to always wear clothes. But it is to cover her wraps, which help her broken ribs. She's also particularly picky about who gets to see her body, a habit she picked up from her time in the human world."

Amber stepped out of Crash's bedroom, which was coated in blood, and took a twirl around. She was wearing silver armor with white runes carved in the metal. She smiled and pointed a small pistol at me.

"Nice gun."

She tossed it to me, and I caught it, leaning against the wall. "Yeah, I pilfered it from your world. Needed protection. You own any?"

"Nah. It's illegal."

Amber looked up from a box she'd been digging through, her back hooves dangling out above her head. "Ille- Ille- it's what?"

"Illegal. Against the law? Not allowed? I'm only seventeen. I can't own guns."

"Oh. So, my gun...?"

"Not supposed to have it."

"Oh. Well buck that."

I snickered. "You have the kind of attitude that my little sister Riley would shun."

"She sounds nice."

"She's mental. Hallucinates. Schizophrenic too. But I love her." I sighed and leaned even further against the wall, now propping myself up on my elbow.

Amber suddenly looked down. "Oh.... I'm sorry."

"She's getting treatment. And she likes baking chocolate cookies."

"I like cookies."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Everypony." She smiled, sliding her armor off. "As long as you're here, you might as well learn our language."

"Everypony? Learning your language? Buck that."

"You're catching on already."

I laughed and nodded.

"So what shall become of you after this fight?" Crash pondered.

"I'll come back here. I'll gather my bits and prized possessions, and I'll move too." She smiled sadly. "I can't stand the memories this house has hidden, secrets only I know."

"What'll happen to me?"

"I'll devote all my time to getting you back to Earth."

"Really?"

Amber nodded. She slowly moved her mane aside, and I finally saw her full face. The left side, the one covered with her mane, was faded white with no burns or scratches whatsoever. Her eye was sky blue at the top but red at the bottom. She smiled, and I saw the slightest pair of fangs.

"I promise, with the last bit of my body that is still pure."

"Amber...."

"No time for that." She dropped her hoof, and her mane covered her face again. "I haven't slept in hours. I think I'll go nap."

~

I lie on the obviously pony-sized couch and yawned with Amber over my chest. Her chest bobbed slowly as she continued napping. I pushed her to the side and stood up.

Now may be my only chance to look around for an exit.

I took a walk around the living room first. It seemed everything was in the shades of black and purple. And if it was a stationary object like the wall-phone, it was a bloody mess. Then I turned to the scribbled message in the corner of the room. In shaky, thick blue crayon, was a note.

Once you are dead, nopony can hurt you. There is only silence, no more pain. Just NOTHINGNESS.

The message thoroughly creeped me out, and I took a step back, slamming into Crash. He had his arms folded, and he looked like he had been standing there for a while.

"Uhh, hey Crash."

"Curiousity is not a very becoming trait, Mr. Gunner."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind." He motioned to the note. "So you found Amber's note."

"Yeah. What is this anyway?"

"This is Amber's home. Always has been. She never left the house that burned. She simply built it back up. She says this is her new home, but it is the same as her old one. She cannot leave the dark memories. She doesn't want to. She is a mare of torture; she will stay for the painful memories, if nothing else."

It took me a moment to process this. "So, when she said that after her old house burned, she left to build a new one...."

Crash nodded. "She lied. Truthfully, I see why she didn't want to start anew; she didn't want their bodies found, and she didn't want to be tormented or killed. Many ponies would run, and hide, until the insanity, and guilt, and TERROR of killing their own family, regardless of foster or genetic, took hold of their mind and tore it apart."

"She's an incredibly smart mare, I'll give her that. Building a house over her family's graves, so that nopony can find them. Strong too. If I killed my parents, I would definitely go mad, and never return to sanity. Yes, she did dive a bit off the deep end for a few years. But then the Mental Health Hospital threw her a line and she swam out, so to speak. She's still shaky every now and then as well. She hears voices, she sees things, occasionally wounds will appear on her body from nowhere. But she gets over it, and she continues the day-to-day loneliness."

"Aside from you." I gestured to Crash.

"No. No no no no no. I stay in the basement, and she stays upstairs. Sometimes she will come down, but not very often. Other than that, we avoid each other."

"Why?" He opened his mouth, but a different voice spoke.

"Hey, you two done?" Amber sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I'm ready."

~

We were already on the train to the Crystal Kingdom. The Conductor was a drab-colored stallion with a drooping mane. Amber told us what it meant.

"When a Crystal Pony gets like that, it means they are feeling harassed or upset. It's usually the effect of Sombra."

"So they have physical changes when their mood changes?" Crimson asked, not looking away from the Conductor.

"Yeah. Like how when I'm angry, I might go R4GE." Crimson shuddered.

"R4GE Amber.... not a pretty sight."

"Certainly not."

"Uhm, what's R4GE Amber?"

Amber tapped her hoof to her chin as she thought. "Well, sort of like a Discord-ed version of me. My skin and mane go all...." She pointed to the Conductor, "And three little slashes show up on the left side of my neck. My eyes'll go green, and a gaping hole appears in my stomach." She traced an oval on her skin to show me.

"Ohh."

"That's not all. I'll go cannibalistic, and my voice'll echo. And my left hoof can transmit the R4GE virus."

"Virus?"

"When somepony has the R4GE virus, their stomach will tear itself apart like my R4GE stomach. Of course, hardly anypony can stand living with the R4GE virus, and it kills them."

"Remind me not to piss you off."

"Reminder, don't piss me off."

"Yeah, ha-ha. How long does this train ride last?"

"Half an hour or so."

"Greeeaaaaat." Now I get to spend a whole half hour with THIS crazy chick. I swear to God, I'm going to wake up one morning splattered in my own blood, and she'll walk in, just like....

"Did you sleep well? Ohh, don't mind me. I'm just cutting you open to eat your intestines!" I said out loud. When I saw everyone staring, I turned away. Great, Trevor. Now you're talking to yourself.