My boot met the door with enough force to propel the thing off its hinges and to the other side of the bakery. I stepped in quickly, rifle already at my cheek, swinging around to find a mark.
“Hah there, Sebas-chun.”
The voice came from my right. Still keeping the stock of the rifle to my cheek, I spied Apple Bloom sitting atop a table, legs crossed in a relaxed manner, in a dress of hide emblazoned with the cutie marks of what I believed to be her past victims. She looked strikingly like Pinkie Pie… Wait a minute…

“I killed you.” I stated matter-of-factly.
The yellow filly nodded and hopped down from her perch, spinning in a small circle as though to show off a new garment.

“You did. But Mistress Pinkie got that Zecora lady to bring me back.” She replied.
My gaze drifted over her for a moment before my left eye registered the metal in her back.

“And Pinkie fused your back back together. I guess even Equestrian magic can’t fix all of lives troubles.”
She nodded once more.

“Yer good. Now enough talk. Rarity won’t make a dress outta ‘erself, y’know.”
Bloom’s eyes were intense and she was ready to pounce. I’d made the mistake of letting her in close once and it cost me dearly. This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. With a twitch of my finger, the recoil of the .50 round slammed into my shoulder. Any normal person would have been rocked backward at such an impact, but I was far from normal. It had little more effect on me than a tap on the shoulder. As the round found its mark between her eyes, Apple Bloom disappeared in a mist of red. A presence registered off to my immediate left where Sweetie Belle was charging toward me wearing a garment similar to Bloom’s. Just like the previous shot, when the massive slug of lead met its mark, my second assailant was little more than a blood stain on the wall. I was out of bullets, so I had to improvise as an orange-coated filly launched herself from the check-out counter at me. Her name was Scootaloo. She was still in school and a blank-flank just like her friends. She was the newest member of this sick little group… In a capacity different from this one, they called themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Pinkie had used their drive to find who they really are to help her “make cupcakes”. All of this was revealed to me in the split-second my gaze had lingered on her. Quickly shifting my grip on the gun from stock to barrel, I swung the weapon as though it were a baseball bat. The hard, lacquered wood stock slammed into her temple, causing it to snap to the side, her neck bend at an awkward angle. Her tiny frame changed direction and flew into the wall adjacent wall, going totally limp.
Once the adrenaline had settled, I looked about at the damage. Two fillies had been blown into oblivion and another lay against the wall, her neck shattered. The rifle had met Scootaloo’s head with such force that it actually bent the barrel… It would be useless to keep such a damaged piece, so I tossed it aside.

“Requiem in pace.” I hissed, giving a half-hearted sign of the cross.
My focus was then turned to the trapdoor that was hidden beneath the rug behind the counter. With the yank I gave it, the entire plank system came up with a snap. Trudging down the familiar staircase, the memories of the fight with Apple Bloom raced through my mind.

“She’s gone now… Rarity’s waiting…” I assured myself quietly.