The rain was hammering down, turning the gutters into rivers and creating a low mist along the surface of the roadway. Manehattan was well noted for its rain and I’d never found out just why the weather ponies here allowed the seemingly incessant deluges. If I were cynical, i’d say it was probably to wash away the evidence of the depravities of the scum and filth that lived below the iron grey skies…If I were cynical.

I stood in the dark opening of an alleyway, partially hidden by the trunk of a wide tree, opposite the Strawberry Cream nightclub on 22nd. The club had a short flight of steps leading from the pavement up to the main door which was protected from the elements by a large canopy with large glowing letters above it proclaiming the name of the establishment. Two hulking stallions lurked beneath, sheltering from the downpour. Before them a long line of ponies waited patiently to be allowed in despite the rain, one of them however was loudly arguing with the bouncers.

“What?! Let me in! I’ve been stood out her for fucking ages and I’m pissing wet through!”

“You don’t have ID sir, so the answer is no. Now, please leave before you make a scene”

“Before I make a scene? I’ve obviously old enough and you’re letting in underage fillies all the time! For fucks sake let me in!”

Quick as a flash, one of the bouncers lashed out with a forehoof, taking the younger one off his hooves and sending him tumbling down the stairs where he landed in a stunned and bloodied heap. The others queuing barely paid him any attention and simply continued to file in, one at time like good little sheep. The form on the pavement, stood shakily to his hooves and stumbled away into the night uttering a string of threats and expletives…he’d sleep it off.

As the evening drew on, a steady stream of ponies went in and out of the nightclub…mostly in. No sign of the pony I was looking for though, the two on the doors were probably not the only door bouncers there, but I was hardly going to barge in through the front. In any case, I had all the time in the world, if tonight didn’t yield results there was always tomorrow, and the next day and the next…

The music from inside was deafening, a deep thumping, booming noise which must have all but deafened the ponies inside. When you considered the sensitivity of equine hearing, how anypony could listen to that level of volume was unimaginable. Oh, Fairlight, you’re getting old mate…

I shook the rain from my cloak and took a breath, something was coming, I could sense a change in the air. As I watched, a carriage rumbled along the road, a big one. It was black, naturally, with garish gold filigree work and a team of four pulling the thing. Talk about ostentatious; this was either a hen night or some rich fucker who liked to show off. It’d be interesting to see which cankerous pustule emerged from its depths.

A young mare, not much more than a filly, trotted up to the carriage door and opened it for the occupant, while holding up an umbrella for them. One of the drivers rushed around to place a small step next to the carriage door and I waited with baited breath to see who it would be.

A long, elegant white leg emerged from the unseen interior of the carriage, followed by the graceful lines of…my goddesses, was that…Celestia? No…hell fire it couldn’t be. It was almost her double though…almost, but no wings. I focussed on the mare before me, she was truly an amazing creature and by the looks of lust and envy on the faces of the waiting patrons, they agreed with me. There was a nagging in my memory though, she was familiar…very familiar. My memory was running on overtime when the bit finally dropped, dear sweet Luna…it was the mare from the warehouse. What was she doing here?

Behind her, a tall male emerged, wearing a deep red velvet overcoat and wide brimmed hat with sunglasses. An exceptionally overt, but vicious character, who I knew from the files of the watch, it was Velvet Cream himself. Gang lord and crime syndicate head, he was the one behind the drugs and kidnappings. I was almost salivating at the thought of what I would do with him. But still, no sign on the one I’d come for tonight. I could wait, the menu had changed but what was on offer was just as good. But, how to get in?

Manehattan was a city full of dingy back alleys and the night club was no exception. Down along the side of the tall building was a narrow alley filled with steam from the various vents, the sound of music and revelry from inside echoing down its dark dank length. I quickly ducked behind a skip to avoid being seen by the beige pony emerging from the clubs side door to throw a bucket load of scraps into a bin. This could be tricky, the place was in full swing and I had no way to disguise myself at the minute.

“Hey Sam, you got Mel’s order yet?” a voice called from inside.

The beige pony adjusted his stained chefs hat and spat on the ground calling over his shoulder, “Nah, he’s busy wit’ dat filly, da fuckin’ prick.”

The voice from inside sounded amused, “Ha! He hears you say that and he’ll gut you with your own paring knife.”

Unfazed by his colleague’s taunts, the chef trotted back in and closed the door behind him. ‘Mel’? He was already here? A wave of anticipation rolled through me and I smiled to myself, it wouldn’t be long now…I’d waited more than long enough already.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sounds flowing around me as carefully as I could, filtering the wendigo’s magic through my body, channelling the hunger, the need to find him, to find Melon Patch. The repetitive strains of music were pervasive, but hidden behind it was the background hum of voices, beyond that…narrowing it down, slimming the magic to a thin gossamer thread…there! A scream, shouting…and, what sounded like a hoof smacking heavily against a jaw. The third floor, it was a simple flight straight up.

Since the ‘joining’, I’d developed more control of the spirits power…my power. By channelling a little, I could bend the magic to my will and my need, rather than the full on energy burning which I had been using up until now. Something good had to have come out of that vile episode and one of architects of that misery was so near I could taste it. My wings snapped open and with one hard push, I shot up like a cork from a bottle, straight up the side of the building, rolling and banking to land with the slightest of splashes on the flat roof of the club.

The building was fairly modern by Manehattan standards and somepony had thoughtfully placed a number of skylights which suited my purposes very well indeed.

Keeping my face well hidden in the depths of my cloaks hood, I moved swiftly from skylight to skylight, observing the various scenes below. The multicoloured lighting flashed in time to the music, illuminating the clubs patrons who were no doubt having a most wonderful and memorable evening. One ‘patron’, however was having the sort of memorable evening that would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. Below, a dark red stallion with a short, matted green mane was pinning down a young mare on the bed, one not much more than a child.

He stood over her, hammering himself into her again and again, heedless of her cries and pleading. Spittle flew from the foul creatures mouth, landing on the lemon coated fillies face making her cough. I remembered well the stink of that bastard, the way his cracked hooves smashed down upon my ravaged bofy , the way he struck Meadow…the way he…

For some reason, one I will never know, Melon Patch paused in his depraved act and looked up at the skylight. His blood red eyes narrowed and then went wide as saucers as they locked with mine, the young filly immediately discarded like so much chaff on the bed. In less than a heartbeat I was crashing down through the skylight and landed amidst a shower of glass, knees absorbing the shock of impact, my cloak flaring out around me. The stallion backed up towards the dressing table,

“What…Who, the fuck are you?!”, Melon Patch spluttered at me.

I released more of the spirits strength through my body, but not too much, I wanted him to see, to remember; I wanted to experience this moment to the fullest, savouring the taste his fear. White mist poured from my muzzle, salivating in anticipation while freezing fog billowed out from around my hind legs making the filly squeak in alarm and jump further back on the bed. Mel likewise backed up from me until he collided with the dresser.

“Why…don’t you remember me Mel?”, I pulled back my hood giving him a good view of my glowing blue eyes, laughing quietly, “We had some fun together didn’t we?…good times, good times.”

I advanced on him humming the tune Meadow used to like so much, that repetitive, silly, innocent advert for stock cubes.

Mel glanced toward the bedroom door, breathing heavily, “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re fucking with the wrong guy, motherfucker!”

The crimson stallion desperately tried to pull out a pistol from the dresser drawer behind him, crying out as my hind legs bucked the draw shut on his foreleg. I felt as well as heard the accompanying hollow snap, and a wave of satisfaction passed through me making me smile wickedly…it wasn’t wood breaking. Despite the pain, Mel snarled and swung a wild punch at me with his other hoof that I dodged effortlessly. My horn flared with magic and a bolt of ice shot out and through his shoulder, pinning him to the wardrobe door. The male’s screams were like a warm shower on a cold winter’s day; I began to salivate, this was…simply delicious.

Mel’s strength was truly something to behold. Bellowing, the stallion tore himself free and charged me, ignoring the broken bone in his foreleg. He didn’t get far. The hulking monster crashed to the floor in a heap, his rear legs frozen solid, curling white fog wreathing them and curling up around his nethers.

I tapped a hoof against my chin, “Hurts, does it Mel…? Tut, tut…I thought you liked pain, after all, you’re so generous with it when it comes to others”

He gasped, trying to crawl to the door, “You bastard! I…I don’t know who you are! What do you want? What is this…some sort of twisted fucking revenge for something?”

I reached down and gave him a smile, “Bingo! Right on the money Mel ! You really are the clever pony aren’t you!” Leaning back on the bed, I stroked the terrified fillies mane,

“Such a cute little thing isn’t she Mel, did she taste good? As good as the green mare with those big yellow eyes? Do try to remember Mel, I wouldn’t want you to forget her…not now…”

I could see the strain of thoughts warring with pain and shock on the stallions face. The bastard had forgotten her, forgotten me too…it had been just another job, just another life to end.

Suddenly, his expression changed. Realisation dawned on his face and his eyes widened in horror,

“It...It’s you! We killed you! I saw Gates stab you right through the heart, we burned the cabin down!”

A deep rumble escaped my throat, while I looked gently upon the filly who was squeezing her eyes shut with fright,

“Right again Mel! You’re good at this aren’t you?”

I bared my teeth, mist dripped from between the lengthening fangs.

“What was her name Mel?”

“What?”

“What was the name of the green mare, the one you and your pal Gates raped?”

“I…I don’t know…I can’t remember! For fucks sake, let me go! I won’t say anything to anypony!”

Hatred rolled through me, my hooves trembling with barely restrained rage, “You can’t remember her name…”

I moved over to one of the lanterns and blew it out, unscrewing the filler cap.

“Gets cold on a night here Mel, you need to keep warm. It’s good for your health…” I poured the lamp oil over him from muzzle to tail. Squirming, he tried to lash out at me with his hoof, but the biting cold was slowing him down.

“For fucks sake! What do you want!” He shrieked.

“Simple, Mel”, I leaned down, pouring the last of the oil on his face making him cough, “Who ordered you to kill me, rape my wife, murder my foal and burn us along with the evidence. Come on now, you’re done well so far, my friend. Third times the charm”

He gagged and spat, “Hey!...okay, fucking hell…okay! It was Velvet, the boss, he told us to do it to you…’a real special job’, he said. We were just doing what we were told…he’s the one who you should be going after, not me!”

I took another lantern from the wall, “Is that all Mel? You wouldn’t lie to me now would you?”

“No! Oh goddesses, don’t do it!”

“Don’t do what Mel?”, I lifted the shade on the latern, letting the little flame dance before his eyes, his words from that terrible night branded into my memory, “I’ve got a little show planned for you, little piggy. You’re going to have your very own private cremation. Free of charge”.

“Fuck you!” he screamed and with a stumbling crash, managed to throw himself through the door which splintered into fragments, his legs stumbling and faltering as he went. Full of adrenalin, nothing was going to stop this monster.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes in concentration and sent out the barest touch from my magic, the gentlest of caresses. A burst of yellow light from the hallway gave me pause, and I opened my eyes again, grinning to myself in satisfaction.

Charging through the nightclub, the lumbering rapist was transformed into a screaming, burning mass of red fur and blistering flesh. I grabbed the terrified filly from the bed and blew out the window with a blast of magical energy. Holding her close, we dropped lightly down to the sodden alleyway below, my cloak billowing out like black smoke as I landed. Moments later, the back door to the club was flung open with a loud bang and a shouting, screaming stream of ponies charged out into the night. They barely noticed us, streaming past in a panicked stampede, desperate to avoid the burning mass of equine that following them out into the rain.

I pushed the filly behind the skip and hoofed her my cloak, taking out the folded scythe as I did so. Giving her a gentle pat on the head, I smiled down at her kindly, “Close your eyes sweetheart, I don’t want you to see this.”

The hulking form of Melon Patch had his still smoking back to me. One of the chefs had rushed out to throw water over him and put out the flames…they shouldn’t have wasted the water. Now, the once arrogant stallion stood before me, gasping and whimpering like the filly had been beneath him, like countless other victims of this sadistic vermin. Nopony would ever smile upon that face again; his fur and hide were blackened rags, charred like the ruins of the cabin where he had left my family to burn.

With a click and a hiss, the blade swung out and snapped into position, making the stallion raise his head. Slowly, he turned to me, his hind legs nothing more than shattered ruins, whisps of smoke still rising from his molten skin.

I fixed him with a stare that could never have conveyed enough of the sheer contempt and hatred I felt for this filth; Melon Patch….gang member, rapist…murderer…

He tried to retreat but stumbled back onto his haunches, his nostrils flaring at the rush of pain. I advanced on him, mist dripping from my maw, salivating in anticipation. Behind me, a silent mass of frightened ponies looked on, even as the ever rising flames licked at the windows inside the club.

I hefted the scythe, my voice rumbling with barely restrained fury, “Look well piggy, look well. You’re gonna enjoy this…”

Mel’s scream was cut short by the separation of his head from the rest of his body. There was a wet thud as it fell and I quickly plucked it from the muddy ground, looking into the rapidly glazing eyes, “I’m going after your friend next”, I said, pitching the rotten creatures head at the kitchen ponies.

“Melon’s off the menu boys”, I called to them, walking past smiling to myself.

One down.

Frightened beyond her wits, the young filly had already fled. At least she’d think twice about going out alone after tonight, but that was all for the better. The streets of this city were crawling with vermin like Melon Patch. Now, however, there was one less piece of scum to worry about. I lifted my head, looking up into the night sky. Letting out a pent up breath, I let the rain fall upon my muzzle.

It felt good.