"The Other Side" Chapter 4- Blood and Sweat

After Big Macintosh ran off into the barn, Dylan turned on his heels and made his way to the farmhouse. There was a sweet smell of baking apples wafting from an open windowsill. The front door of the house was open, and Dylan walked inside. He knocked twice as he passed through the doorway, the rapping sound of knuckles on wood carrying throughout the room. After a few moments, Applejack's voice came from the other room, "I'll be right with ya' in a minnit'!"

Dylan once again searched his pockets. If lint had been a currency in Equestria, he'd probably have enough to buy exactly nothing; Rarity was a neat freak. So, I have no job, no food, no money, no house, and a few acquaintances. How the hell am I gonna make it? Maybe I'll become a hobo. Does Ponyville have hobos? Don't think so. Hermit? No, that makes me sound like an old, bearded dude who lives alone... Shit... two out of three... Hermit it is, unless the chick who kicked me in the balls actually hires me... Dylan's thoughts to himself ended when applejack came into the front room wearing an apron. The apron had crumbs and apple-stains on it, and Applejack quickly brushed it off with her hooves.

"Oh! Howdy there, Dylan. What brings ya' to Sweet Apple Acres? I was just puttin' some pies in the oven."

Dylan scratched behind his ear, looking down at his shoes.

"Well, I was wonderin' if you'd hire me. I don't really have anythin' to do in Ponyville, and I figure I'll need money for food and such. That and Big Mac's kinda growing on me. Pretty much everyone I've met is so..."

"Nice?"

"Yeah, nice. So uh..."

Applejack smiled, pulling off her apron and hanging it up on a nearby rack,

"Yeah, sure! You can work on the orchard, but do ya' think ya' can handle it?"

Dylan looked grateful, lifting his eyes back up to the blond-maned earth pony.

"Heck, yes. What do ya' need me to do?"

Applejack nodded, then pointed over her shoulder, "Good, you're gonna need that there enthusiasm for the job, it's a tough one. Back behind the house is a bunch of broken branches, trunks, fallen trees, that sorta thing. I need you to chop em' all up for firewood. They've been sitting' back there for a day or two, but mah' brother and I haven't been able to get to cuttin' em up."

"Me? Hit something hard with a large, heavy object until its in multiple pieces? No problems here. I've done quite a lot of hittin' things in my life."

Applejack shot the bearded redhead a curious look, "Why've you been doin' that, Puddin'?"

"Well, the city I used to live in was rough, but I also was a martial artist. Nothin' too special, but I could definitely hit hard if I needed to. I got in plenty of fights, to be honest. Generally, it was the other guys who lost."

Applejack looked Dylan up and down. What she noticed that she hadn't before, was that Dylan stood in a stance that looked like he was always ready for a fight.

"Oh... alright then. There's an axe in the shed behind the back ah' the house. Call me if you need anythin', but right now I gotta get back ta' bakin'!"

"You're kiddin' about the axe, right? I'll do fine with these guns."

He flexed his biceps, which were nothing to scoff at. He gave each a sarcastic, comedic kiss before resting them back down at his sides. Applejack laughed, shaking her head as she walked back into the kitchen.

"Go get em', tiger."

Dylan found the pile of wood easily enough, as it took up a massive amount of space directly behind the house. Got wood? Dylan thought with a smirk. He walked around the pile to a small, roughly-built shed. Inside were various farming implements, from pitchforks to shovels. A long-hafted iron axe rested between a pair of dusty looking crates. He picked it up, turning it in his hands.

Hmm... weight's good... handle doesn't have any splinters.../ He touched one of his fingertips to the axe's blade. /And it's sharp. /Time to get started. Doesn't seem like I'll be done soon, either.

The sound of chopping wood had become monotonous in Dylan's ears, just as the motion of swinging the axe had burned into his muscle memory. He was drenched in sweat, and his arms ached with the hours of laborious chopping. His mind seemed to lose all thoughts other than the task at hand, which he performed with intense focus. He sat down for a moment on a still-intact tree trunk, leaning on the haft of the axe. He sat there for a minute, then looked down at his hands; They were covered in callouses and scrapes that he hadn't had before. After seeing his hands, Dylan twisted his neck to look up at the evening sky. It was sunset, and the final rays of golden sunlight were playing across the Orchard's gracefully swaying grass.

Beautiful. Its too bad I'm out here alone. Not like anyone's really that... comfortable around me here... But at least I'll have this work finished up soon.

Dylan stood up, admired the sun's golden light as it turned orange, then deep red, before it finally disappeared over the horizon.

He had just chopped up the last of the wood when he heard the sound of yelling coming from the front of the house. He braced the axe on his shoulder and quickly walked to where the sound was coming from. What he saw was Applejack talking to a giant female Griffon. They were both on the porch. The griffon was yelling furiously at the distressed-looking apple farmer, a spray of spittle leaving her mouth each time she did. Dylan hustled angrily over to where the two were standing, letting his 'outside voice' out of its cage once more.

"Hey! You! The fucking thing that looks like the result of a one-night stand between a chicken and a housecat! What the hell d'you think you're doin'?"

The griffon whirled, squawking irately. "You talking to me?"

"Of course I'm talking to you! What's going on here?"

Applejack looked like she was about to break out in tears.

"It's nothin'... Dylan, jus' go inside. Please!"

The fear in her voice was thick, and her eyes were shut.

"Why? What's going on?"

Dylan looked deeply concerned now, looking at Applejack with caring eyes.

"None of your business, freak! Get lost before you make me do something you'll regret!"

The griffon flexed her front talons as she stood up on two legs, narrowing her eyes into slits.

"You threatenin' me, you flyin' rat? Applejack, what the fuck is going on?"

"Now you're starting to make me mad!"

"Dylan, go! Gilda, please, he doesn't know."

Applejack was crying, shining tears rolling down her orange cheeks. She was quietly shaking, shivering with terror. She now looked desperately at Gilda, but the griffon had her predatory eyes locked on Dylan. Dylan's eyes had that same spark of the predator, and they seemed to be staring murderously sharp daggers at Gilda.

"What. Are. You. Doing. To. Her?!"

Dylan was frothing mad, his hands bringing the axe down into a fighting position.

"What I'm about to do to you!" Gilda screamed venomously.

Gilda leaped off of the porch, her beak open wide, her claws slicing forward. Dylan swung the end of the axe's haft sideways, bludgeoning Gilda in the side of the face with a fleshy thud. She continued her momentum, her claws ripping Dylan's chest and shoulders. She crashed into him, sending him stumbling backwards into a crouch.

She was In a frenzy, screaming like a banshee. Her claws had torn ragged holes in his new overcoat, and that pissed him off.

"Damn it! I just fucking had this made!"

The veins in his neck were bulging out, his lips drawn back in an angry grimace. Dylan growled out as he brought a foot snapping forwards into the underside of the screeching griffin's body. She huffed as the blow connected, bending over slightly, then swung her talons towards Dylan's exposed jugular. He twitched, his honed reflexes from countless street fights kicking in. Before the griffon's pointed talons could tear his throat to shreds, he slammed the handle of his axe hard against Gilda's rapidly closing arm. The loud crack of bone breaking was sickening to Gilda's ears; to Dylan's it was sweet, sweet music.

Her mind afire with pain and fury, Gilda shoulder-charged Dylan and sent him sprawling to the ground. He landed flat on his back, the axe slipping from his tired hands. She bit down viciously on his left shoulder, taking shreds of clothing and bits of flesh off with her cruelly sharp beak. He screamed, trying to pull her beak away from his vulnerable body. With one hand he pushed on her face, while he flattened the other. That hand's fingers were all completely touching one another, and his thumb was pressed closely to the side of his hand. Dylan struck Gilda's throat with the tips of his fingers so hard she had to rip her mouth away from his shoulder. She coughed violently, blood and spit mingling together in the dirt.

He didn't give her the chance to retaliate. Dylan grabbed Gilda's broken arm with vicelike force, sweeping one of her back legs out with a hard kick. He rolled, pinning her down between his legs, his fist raised behind his head. A voice whispered inside his mind, Kill her. Make her suffer. She had just stopped coughing when he slammed his fist brutally into her windpipe. He punched her throat over and over again, while she tried to block with her arms. Several times he hit her broken arm, Gilda wailing in pain each time. Dylan was uncontrollably furious, screaming bloody murder. His hands wrapped around her throat, crushing the life out the wounded griffon. Gilda looked into Dylan's eyes, and what she saw... was fire. It looked as if the very inside of his skull was ablaze. In the fire, she saw her own terrified face reflected. She was crying, blood dripping from her open mouth. She desperately tried to pry Dylan's hands from her throat. She couldn't. She was suffocating. To make matters worse for Gilda, Dylan was slamming her head against the ground. Each time he did, a deep, enraged roar came from his throat. Gilda's brain literally felt like it was going to explode. Suddenly, Applejack screamed, horrified.

"Dylan, no! N-no! Stop! Please! That's enough!"

Dylan froze at the sound of her voice, his instincts to fight- to kill -had drowned out the sound of Applejack's voice. He stopped trying to pulverize Gilda's skull into a fine powder, loosening his grip on her neck enough for her to breathe. The fire in his eyes burned a little less, but he kept his infernal gaze locked on Gilda.

"Why?"

Dylan's voice sounded inhuman, a growling bark full of rage. Applejack was crying, tears staining her face. She walked down from the porch on unsteady legs. She looked more scared of Dylan than Gilda, who was little more than a sobbing, gasping wreck on the ground.

"Because... you're scarin' me..." She said these words hesitantly, but her fear was more one of shock than imminent harm to herself.

"Just let her go, she's... had enough."

The fire died behind Dylan's eyes as he turned to look at Applejack. Dylan stood up slowly. After he got up, he kicked Gilda in the gut and spat at her before he backed away a few steps.

"Go. Before I change my mind..." Dylan's voice was normal again, his rage subsiding to a lesser anger.

Gilda stumbled to her feet wordlessly, leaping into the night sky and flying so fast the devil himself might as well have been chasing her. That wasn't far off. With a sigh, Dylan's shoulders sagged, and he slumped lightly against an apple tree, exhausted.

"What was she doing here? And who was she?"

"She was an old friend of Rainbow Dash's... Was."

"So what was she doing here?"

Applejack looked down at the ground shamefully, her honest personality urging her to tell Dylan.

"Gilda... she was blackmailin' me. She wanted a... cut of the orchard's profits. She was jus' about to collect her money when... you came around the front."

Dylan thought about how he had assumed that things like this didn't happen in Ponyville; It turns out they did.

"Why were you crying?"

Applejack looked completely defeated. Her head hung low to the ground as she looked up at Dylan.

"Gilda, she said that she'd burn down all the trees. She said that she'd take Sweet Apple Acres apart piece by piece until she got her money... But that ain't why I'm cryin... Gilda... she threatened mah' sister... She said she'd hurt her if I didn' give her what she wanted..."

Dylan's heart ached at the look of deep misery that was on Applejack's face. He struggled to repress the rage that was now returning with renewed vigor.

"She was gonna hurt mah' sis... she was gonna hurt Applebloom!"

A knot of murderous intent began to twist and wrap around Dylan's heart.

"How long has this been going on?" Dylan's voice was calm, but inside his thirst for blood was like a tidal wave. It was pushing again and again on his dam of self-control. The dam was cracking. Applejack sobbed; the once strong pony was now a sorrowful mess.

"Since she met up with Dash a while ago... Maybe a few months... Pinkie Pie tried to change her. She couldn't. Gilda hated pretty much everypony, and she didn't care about the pain she was causin'. She... came back a few weeks ago... I'll never forget how she made Fluttershy cry..."

Those last four words were all that was needed to destroy the dam completely. The flood of rage was unbearable.

"I'm gonna go. You come lookin' for me if ya' need anythin'. And don't worry about payin' me yet... I'll make due. There's just something I gotta finish first."

He lay a hand on Applejack's shoulder tenderly, looking into her deep green eyes with as much sympathy he could muster.

"I'll make sure no harm comes to you or your family, I swear... Good night, Applejack."

"G'night, Dylan. You take care of yourself."

Dylan nodded and began walking towards the exit front gate of Sweet Apple Acres.

He walked normally at first, moving at a brisk pace. After he looked over his shoulder to make sure he was out of sight, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him in the direction that Gilda had flown. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as a chill passed down his spine. Make. Her. Pay. A voice in the back of his mind growled. Dylan's thoughts were cold and serious. I will make her pay. She doesn't know who she's messing with, not one damn bit. If you hurt me... I can take it. If you hurt the people I love... I will fucking kill you.

Gilda had stopped flying minutes ago. Overhead, the moon was full, shining high in the sky like a giant white eye for some distant titan. Gilda had landed in a grassy field and tried to nurse her broken leg. That freak! He busted up my arm! I don't know what the buck he is, but Gilda takes cud from nopony. Nopony. Once my leg's better, I'm gonna find that albino motherbucker, grab the creep and drop him from the sky. We'll see how well he fights a couple of hundred feet in the air! Gilda's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around to see Dylan.

His clothes were torn, there were ragged gashes from her claws in his chest, and a giant chunk was bitten out of his shoulder. He looked like he was about to collapse, but something still kept him going. His face was an insane glare; the glare of a madman. He looked like a man who has seen too much, felt too much, and known too much.

"What do you want, bucker? I thought we were done here."

Dylan's evil smile spread from ear to ear, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He laughed cruelly, a deep mocking sound like thunder. He locked his flaming eyes on Gilda's own, the look of pure scorn chilling her to the core. Dylan breathed deeply, popping his neck, which had become stiff.

"I CHANGED MY MIND."

He dropped his coat and jacket to the ground, removing his shoes as well. "What do you mean 'you changed your-" Gilda stopped speaking as she saw the most horrifying thing she had ever seen; Dylan's muscles had literally exploded with growth, expanding to massive sizes. The veins under his skin bulged and throbbed, and his bones rearranged themselves, violently. The sound of Dylan's skeleton rearranging itself into its new form was grotesque. Popping, ripping, tearing, stretching; that was what Gilda heard. His chest expanded, his ribs widening with a disgusting squelching sound. His legs bent backwards like a canine's, his feet turning into long, powerful paws. His hands snapped into place as they grew to the size of baseball mitts, razor sharp claws slicing out of the tips of his fingers. Night-black fur sprouted from everywhere on his body, immediately bursting into flames. A manelike mass of fire had formed across his back, and a burning tail had stretched out behind him. His face was no longer recognizable as human. The face looking at Gilda was of a snarling, hellish wolf with murderously pointed fangs. His eyes were like burning spheres of pure killing rage, their diabolical intent clear.

Gilda screamed as he descended upon her and ripped her into blood-soaked chunks. Then he feasted. Blood dripped from his open maw, strips of flesh and tendon hanging from between his gnashing teeth. His howls of demonic malice echoed through the rolling moonlit plains.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
And so begins the fall to darkness...