The interrogation room was set up in a style I was familiar with. A single table, one chair, a closed-circuit camera overlooking the dull scene from the upper right-hand corner, just above the door. I had requested it be turned off, and the subject taken to the bathroom in order to give me time enough to get into position. When he came back, the red-coated schmuck seemed to smile to himself. The lights cut out, leaving only the lamp above him to light the table in front of him. He didn’t seem nervous as he looked about, but the closing of the heavy door merited a turn of his head.

“What the Hell is this?” he demanded.
I remained silent, knowing very well that he couldn’t see me from within his little orb of fluorescent illumination. I allowed my feet to come down on the tile floor heavily, a classic horror film technique to give an observer the sensation of a threatening mystery.

“What? Too scared to show a lowly engineer your face?”
I did not respond and simply walked a full circle, just outside of his field of vision.

“Say something!”

Perfect. He’s already nervous. Now to really scare him.
I tossed a knife (generously provided by the princess) onto the table. It impaled itself just between his hooves.

“You see that?” I asked. “That’s a twelve inch RavensdaleBuckrake. One of the most effective skinning knives on the market today. Are you familiar with it?”
The stallion examined the piece of cutlery very intently, plucking it out of its little crevice.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Oh, but you are. You own one, Doctor Atmosphere. You keep it under your pillow at home.”
The red-coated sociopath looked up, a mild look of shock fleeting across his features.

“So you searched my house, big deal. What, you think you’re gonna scare me just because you know a thing or two?”

“Trust me, Doc. You should be afraid of me.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder then and yanked him about, planting a solid left hook to his muzzle. He let out a surprised yelp, then tumbled to the floor where he gripped his snout and began cursing rather loudly. I wasn’t about to let up… Taking a rough hold of the nape of his neck, I jerked him back up to his knees so his eyes were just level with the table’s edge which I promptly introduced him to at full force. His muzzle split across the bridge and began registering that wonderful crimson forth. After a moment’s respite, he climbed back into his chair and grimaced for a long while.

“Just what the Hell are you tryin’a do, ya freak!?” he demanded lispingly.
With a quick arcing of my arm, I took hold of a fistful of his mane and yanked it down so as to allow the blood in his nose to trickle down the back of his throat.

“I have a few questions for you, Doc, and trust me… I’ll know if you’re lying. So give me some answers, and I’ll make it all stop…”

“So you’re another interrogator, huh?” he spit in the direction of my voice, but came just short.

“Lights!” I called, throwing a glance at the one-way mirror.
Said lights flickered back to life after a few moments, and I finally allowed him to look upon me. He seemed a bit underwhelmed. I supposed it made sense… Who would really feel threatened by a five-foot three, hundred-twenty pound rabbit with a bandage on his face? Atmosphere laughed aloud and wiped his nose, flicking some of the blood onto my shirt. Bad idea…
With another swipe across his face, another burst of red painted the wall on the other side of the room. I was angry…

“Now,” I said from behind gritted teeth. “Here’s how this is gonna work. I’m gonna ask you a question. If you don’t answer or lie to me,” I paused to reach into my pocket and flash the wire-strippers therein at him, clipping the air to demonstrate. “I’ll take a finger… In the unlikely event that you run out of fingers, I’ll start taking toes… Once your toes are gone, you’ll be emasculated… Are we clear?”
As Atmosphere’s face turned back to me, it was clear he wasn’t taking me seriously. He held the hilt of the Buckrake tightly in his hand… He wanted to use it… And was about to…

“Fuck you.” He said calmly.
His swipe was rather sloppy… Quite disappointing. It came in way too wide and to my right; my non-blind spot. A complete rookie without even a day of training in his life would have been able to stop it… I merely tilted my head back, allowing the blade to glide passed my muzzle, and took hold of his wrist, twisting it far beyond a safe point of articulation, forcing him to let it go. My left hand met the hilt before it could slip out of reach, and I spun the poor stallion about. The small dance resulted in his palm being turned upright upon the tabletop, inviting the edge of the skinning knife right into the center. In a flurry of curses, he began to try and lift his impaled appendage. That was an even worse idea than taking the initial swipe… The blade held firm in it’s place, slicing the idiots palm open, leaving a gash a solid two inches long. Once he stopped moving, wising up to his poor decision, I removed the tool with a good tug.
As I cleaned the bloodied blade on his lab coat, I address him again.

“You ready to take me seriously now?”

“You can’t do this!” He half-screamed.

“Oh, can’t I? I don’t even exist. They don’t know I’m here…” I lied.

“Now, you know the questions I’m going to ask, don’t you?”
The engineer fixed those fiery eyes on me as I adjusted my bandage so as to slip into his mind.

“I want to know how you’ve managed to get away with all this murder for the last four years… How that little factory of yours is able to just disappear…”

“It’s not able to disappear…”
I didn’t even have to read him to see how rehearsed that was… The lie prompted me to take a hold of his good wrist.

“You wanna try that one again?”

“You don’t have the balls…”

Stubborn little cuss, isn’t he…?

“Look at your other hand, prick.”
Atmosphere gave me a twisted smile.

“Please… You’re just trying to scare me… It’s not gonna work, kid…”
The crunch that the bone and tendons gave off, under any other circumstances, would have made me sick, but the expression of confusion and horror that plastered itself upon the face of the stallion before me was just too damn funny. I chuckled under my breath as I dangled the little digit before his eyes.
The shock probably dulled his senses for several seconds before he screamed. Long… And loud… It felt pretty good to watch someone like him in so much pain… He was tasting what he had been dealing out for years…

“How’d you do it?” I asked again, retaking his wrist to threaten another digit.

“It’s mobile!” He sobbed out like a small child.

“How is that achieved?”
My fingers were closing around the stripper’s handles slowly but surely… He answered quickly, knowing what would happen if he didn’t.

“There are propulsion bays beneath the superstructure! The operate on antigravity, so they’re dead silent!!”

“Keep going…”

“They can be aimed, so we can propel the structure wherever we need it to go!”
The poor fool was practically defecating himself out of fear of losing another finger… His mind was alight with the question of whether or not I’d actually do it… I did, tossing yet another digit off to the side. Upon his screams subsiding, I stood.

“Now was that so hard?” I asked, a tone of a father scolding a small child entering my voice.

“You’re fucking crazy!”
That struck a chord in me… A REALLY bad chord to strike. I spun around and clobbered the side of his face, sending him skidding across the room, just beneath the mirror.

“I’m not crazy… I’m pissed beyond all reason… You’re the crazy one here…”
My job was done here… But I wasn’t done with him… After a couple of kicks to his back, I jerked him back up and planted a few well-placed knees to his solar plexus, and a couple kidney punches, followed up by a dynamite right hook that probably dislocated his jaw. My forehead then met his snout with a hollow thud. The fool’s ears were ringing, ribs cracked, spine throbbing, and face singing. His hands were in even worse shape. Two fingers missing and a huge cut of palm missing… I was finally done… Well, almost. For good measure, I took hold of his collar jerked him toward me, favoring the right side. He spun about, and saw his own reflection. When I pushed, he didn’t even have time to scream before his face shattered the acrylic glass.

“He’s all yours.” I calmly informed a very shocked Princess Celestia who stood on the other side, mouth agape.