The two ponies continued to hurry across the fields west of Ponyville, rushing through the icy wind and rain.

“You planning on running all the way to Applewood?” Zipline called to Phillip, flying behind him.

“No,” Phil answered, peering ahead through the dark sheets of rain as he ran. “I’m looking for transport.”

“What transport?” Zipline asked.

His question was answered by a shrill whistling in the distance. Zipline’s sharp eyes detected the shape of a cargo train steaming across the tracks ahead of them, heading in the same direction as they. Understanding Phillip’s plan, he pushed himself ahead, catching up with the train as it rounded a curve. Seizing the door on a boxcar, he pulled it open and alighted within the empty, mercifully dry interior. Phillip ran up to the train, and Zipline held out his hoof, grabbing him and pulling him aboard.

“How did you know about this train?” he asked in wonder, pulling the hood of his rain jacket down.

“Train schedules and routes are a useful thing to keep in the back of your head,” Phillip answered, trotting over into a corner of the boxcar so he could shake himself off. Removing his flashlight from his shoulder, he set it on the floor and turned it to lantern mode to illuminate the empty interior of the car, casting the two ponies into a strange mixture of light and shadows. They both sat down next to the door, watching the scenery race by as they waited for the train to reach Appleloosa. For several long minutes, there was silence other than the clicking, rattling and whistling of the train.

Finally, Zipline could withstand the guilt and doubt eating at his soul no longer. He swallowed and, without looking towards his partner, spoke. “What I did…”

“You were under the influence of a mind-altering drug that you were manipulated into taking,” Phillip said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He turned to Zipline and touched his shoulder reassuringly. “That wasn’t you that threatened an unarmed pony. You’re better than that.”

Zipline felt as though a great weight had just been taken off his shoulders, but the burning question in his heart remained, barring him from feeling the full relief. Turning, he faced Phillip. “Thanks, but...I was gonna say...isn’t it kind of like what you do?”

Phillip retracted his hoof, a flash of anger crossing his eyes. “I don’t threaten to hurt ponies just because they’re in my way. I do it because I need to.”

“And you get to decide when it’s necessary?” Zipline asked, raising an eyebrow.

Phillip scowled at him. “I don’t enjoy it.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” Zipline replied coolly. “I know what you did to those drug dealers.”

Phillip grunted. “They were scum who sold drugs to foals. They had to be taught a lesson.”

“I’m not saying they didn’t deserve punishment,” Zipline stated, his eyes narrowing as they met Phillip’s. “But I don’t think you really hurt them because you needed to. I think you hurt them because you wanted to. Either way, it’s not right.”

“No, it’s not,” Phillip stated, suddenly unable to meet Zipline’s gaze. “Which is why I can do it. I protect ponies by doing what others can’t. I am not, never was, and never will be a good pony.” He turned away, lapsing back into silence.

“No,” Zipline said softly, turning away to look back out the door. “I guess you’re not.” Neither pony spoke again for the remainder of their journey.

Finally, they reached the outskirts of Applewood, where dirt paths wove through pine trees. Phillip jumped off the train, gesturing for Zipline to follow. “The Happy Days Amusement Park is a half click this way. C’mon.”

The two ponies hurried through the rain, the packed dirt turning into slick mud beneath their hooves. Before long, they reached a stretch of level plain, a single path cutting through a field of overgrown weeds that shivered in the wind. Standing in the center of the plain was a large amusement park, the skeleton of a ferris wheel and a few roller coasters stretching towards the sky. A faint glow rose from the structures, and the two ponies realized that some of the lights were on. A large fence surrounded the entire establishment. The whole thing looked as out of place as though it had been dropped out of the sky.

Zipline looked up at the front gate, which was designed to look like a giant clown head, grinning widely down at them. The paint was peeling and falling apart, and in the dark, the face looked nothing short of maniacal. “Ugh,” he shuddered, reaching up towards the door. “I hate clowns.”

“Wait,” Phillip said, holding him back. “They’d be expecting us to go through the front. Let’s come in from the side.”

“Good plan,” Zipline said. The two of them ran along the long gate, circling the perimeter of the abandoned park. Once they reached the back, Zipline took Phillip beneath his forearms and flew up over the fence. As soon as they rose over the top, they saw that they were behind the midway, which was brightly lit. Quickly, Zipline dropped back down onto the roof of a rotting carousel and both ponies hid behind the large sign on the front. Unslinging his casing from his back, Zipline unzipped it and extracted the rifle. Screwing the suppressor onto the barrel, he laid the rifle down onto the roof and pressed his eye to the scope. Phillip settled down next to him, peering through his monocular.

Four armed ponies stood out in the midway, cast into harsh light from several spotlights taken from the rides. One was standing on the roof of a cotton candy booth, aiming a crossbow at the front gate. Another one was pacing back and forth across the alleyway, tossing a heavy-looking cudgel to himself. Two others were standing at the front of the midway, standing on either side of a figure that lay on the ground, her hooves and wings bound and a black hood over her head. She was too far away for either stallion to see her cutie mark, but neither of them needed to: the cerulean coat and multi-colored tail was enough to make a positive identification.

“Rainbow Dash!” Zipline whispered.

Phillip examined the area. “No cover. I don’t think I can get close without them seeing me.”

“And they’d kill Rainbow if we tried,” Zipline said. “Leaving one option.”

He lined up the crosshairs on the thug on the booth rooftop, automatically adjusting to correct for the crosswind. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, letting go of everything. No thought, no emotion. No fear, no anger. No regret. No hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a toneless voice, and squeezed the trigger.

The rifle jerked into his body with a muted crack. The .30 caliber round raced through the air at 2,800 feet per second and pierced the pony’s skull, drilling into his brain and turning it into soup. Zipline knew it was an instant kill because the target dropped out of his sight so quickly he seemed to just disappear. He drew the bolt back, ejecting the spent cartridge, and locked it back in place, pushing the next round into the chamber.

None of the other three thugs had recognized the sound of the suppressed gunshot over the rain and wind. Zipline lined up his next shot on the pacing thug and fired again. The bullet struck him in the back of his skull, dropping him like a stone.

The other two thugs started to turn around. Prioritizing the lanky pegasus, Zipline lined up the shot and fired again. The bullet dug into the pony’s left temple and exited out of the side of his jaw, taking most of his frontal lobe with it. The last thug, an earth pony with crooked teeth, turned to run for cover.

Calmly, Zipline reloaded and took aim, tracking his target. No different than the falling apple. One last time, he fired. A shower of crimson burst from the pony’s shoulder and through the scope, Zipline could see the pony’s eyes widen in shock, pain and horror as, for the briefest span of time, he felt his heart exploding in his chest. He ran forward a couple more steps, then collapsed into the mud, dead.

Zipline lowered the weapon and pulled the bolt back, ejecting the stripper clip and inserting a fresh clip before slinging it onto his shoulder. He looked down at the midway, examining the four bodies that had, merely twenty seconds ago, been living, breathing, thinking, feeling ponies. He couldn’t let himself feel what he’d done, not yet; but he knew it would hit him later, and it would hurt.

The two stallions climbed down from the carousel and started to hurry towards Rainbow Dash, who was still laying still on the ground. “Rainbow!” Zipline called out. The bound mare did not respond. “No, no, no…!” Zipline muttered, racing to her side. “Rainbow!” he shouted, grabbing the hood and yanking it off her head. Both ponies stared down in shock.

The bound mare was nothing more than a dummy. The wide eyes set in the disturbingly realistic blank face stared straight ahead as though in death.

A moment later, the lights turned off, plunging the entire park into darkness. “Bugger,” Phillip breathed, turning around and looking in every direction. Both stallions instinctively turned on their flashlights, the beams of light struggling to penetrate the rainy darkness. A distant chuckle resounded through the icy air.

“Looking for me?” a raspy voice whispered.

“Show yourself, Nevermore!” Zipline shouted, turning around and drawing his pistol.

“Over here,” the voice spoke again, seeming to come from directly behind the stallions. Both of them whirled around and saw a figure in a ragged black cloak standing behind them. Nevermore sneered at them both from underneath the hood of his cloak. His blood red eyes seemed to shine with malice as he glared at Phillip and Zipline.

“Where’s Rainbow?” Zipline demanded, aiming his pistol right between Nevermore’s eyes.

The doctor chuckled again. “She is mine now.”

With a snarl, Zipline instinctively fired. To his shock, Nevermore instantly disappeared into mist.

“Zipline, calm down,” Phillip said sternly through his teeth. “He’s trying to scare us. You need to—”

“I’m over here,” Nevermore’s voice taunted again from the darkness. Whirling around, Zipline spotted Nevermore hovering in midair to his right and fired once more. Once again, Nevermore instantly disappeared. His taunting laughter echoed through the park.

“Where are you?!” he shouted.

“Behind you.”

Zipline turned. Nevermore was indeed right behind him, his wings spread wide and his hoof raised to strike. Zipline reacted first; in the blink of an eye, he raised his weapon, took aim and fired.

Phillip Finder dropped to the ground, a shower of red blossoming from the hole in his forehead, his eyes wide in shock. Zipline gasped in horror, staring down at the pony he had just shot. His mind reeled, refusing to accept the reality before it.

He heard a sound behind him and turned to see Nevermore behind him, slowly clapping his hooves together, his eyes sparkling with cruel amusement. “Good shot, private,” he sneered. Before Zipline could level his weapon, Nevermore vanished again with a final laugh.

It was an illusion. It had to be a hallucination. It wasn’t real, he couldn’t have...Zipline turned around. Phillip Finder was still lying dead on the ground, staring unseeing up at the sky.

“No, no, no, no!” he screamed out, dropping his weapon and kneeling next to Phillip. He grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him. “Phillip, wake up! Wake up—!”

“Zip, snap out of it!” Somepony grabbed Zipline from behind, turning him around and slapping him hard in the face. The shock dispelled some of his hysteria and he looked up at his rescuer with growing surprise. “But...but I shot…”

“Fear toxin,” Phillip Finder explained, holding Zipline’s shoulders. “Slow, deep breaths. Let it wear off.”

Zipline closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths and waiting for his heart rate to settle. When he opened his eyes again, Phillip was still standing in front of him. The dummy still lay on the ground, but Nevermore was nowhere to be seen.

“You okay?” he asked Phillip.

“Fine,” Phillip said, handing Zipline his revolver back. “You?”

“I’m all right,” Zipline lied, pulling up his rain jacket with a shiver. He decided not to tell Phillip what he had just seen.

“We have to find Rainbow Dash,” Phillip said, turning away and starting to walk up the midway. Zipline followed him, holding the revolver.

“Are you sure you don’t want this?” he asked.

“Don’t like guns,” Phillip said. “Unreliable. Prefer to rely on—”

Suddenly, a door to a funhouse their right lit up. Brightly colored lights danced around the door and a slow, haunting jingle began to play from the speakers set into the wall above; the happy, joyful scene provided a jarring contrast to the horrific context.

“I think he wants us to go in there,” Phillip said.

“You know that’s a trap,” Zipline said.

“Of course it is,” Phillip said, pushing the funhouse door open. Both of them entered the dimly lit hallway. Flickering lights along the walls barely illuminated the peeling, swirling colors on the walls. The hallway split into a T up ahead; apparently, this amusement house was intended to be a sort of maze.

“He’s going to try to split us up,” Phillip said, turning to head left. “We have to stick together.”

“Right,” Zipline agreed, following. “I’ll—whoa!” he cried out as a wall suddenly dropped down between him and Phillip, trapping him on the other side. “Zip!” Phil shouted in alarm.

“I’m okay!” Zipline’s voice called from the other side of the wall. “Just keep going!”

Letting out a breath, Phillip turned and continued down the dark hallway, following the beam of his flashlight at a quick but careful trot. The only sound was his own hoofsteps echoing off the walls that closed around him. He took his baton and snapped it open with a flick of his wrist.

“Rainbow?” he called out, his voice echoing off the walls.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Finder,” a voice responded, seeming to simultaneously come from in front of and behind him.

Phillip gritted his teeth. “I’m not scared of you, Nevermore.”

“It’s not me you should be scared of,” Nevermore taunted in reply.

Phillip turned the corner and half-jumped. Standing in front of him was Ruby Port, the fat pony from the drug house in Ponyville. His eyes widened in panic when he saw him and he staggered back, clutching his broken wrist. “No! Keep away!” he screamed.

Bewildered, Phillip stepped forward, and Ruby disappeared into ashes, leaving Phillip staring. He grunted and shook his head. “Hallucinations don’t bother me, Nevermore,” he called out, continuing down the hallway.

“I’m not trying to bother you, Mr. Finder,” Nevermore’s voice replied in a tone of false gentleness. “I’m trying to show you something.”

There was another scream from up ahead, and Phillip saw the drug dealer that he had caught in Appleloosa on the ground, desperately crawling away. Once again, as Phillip approached, the dealer vanished into ashes with a final, terrified cry.

“Do you know what they call you in the underworld?” Nevermore continued, his voice following Phillip as though he was walking right behind him. “The Storm. A destructive force that cannot be stopped, fought or reasoned with; only feared.”

There was a shout from behind him, and Phillip turned to catch a glimpse of Dirt Nap, the smuggling undertaker that had kidnapped Princess Celestia on the floor right behind him. A moment later, he too turned into ashes.

“Because that’s what you are, Mr. Finder. That’s what you became the moment you declared unending war on every criminal in Equestria. We are all nothing more than the products of our fears; I look at you, Mr. Finder, and I see a pony who has known nothing but violence, loss and death, and it is these things that you bring upon the rest of the world.”

Phillip bit down on his lip to silence his retort, determinedly continuing down the hallway. Three more ponies appeared just ahead, and he recognized all of them; they were the three ponies who had attacked him in the watchtower at Clovenworth prison. The bony black earth pony with the muddy red mane was backing away in horror, but his two companions—the ponies that he had killed—simply stood side by side, their eyes shining with hatred and blame. Blood from their wounds stained their coats and dripped onto the floor. Phillip’s stomach filled with ice at the sight, but he pressed on, pushing right through the images as they dissolved into ash that settled on his head and shoulders.

“Just think, Mr. Finder; how many ponies have suffered and died because of you?” Nevermore continued, an angry tone in his voice. “How many lives have you ruined, how many souls have you damned through your vendetta? And as if that’s not enough, you bring innocent ponies into your war, use them as your soldiers...and you send them to die for you.”

For a brief moment, Rainbow’s face flickered in front of Phillip’s gaze, and his heart missed a beat. Breathing heavily, hooves trembling harder by the second, he continued his walk into hell. With every step, more ponies appeared before him, and he recognized all of them: the criminals he had threatened or beaten backed away in terror, while the attackers that he had killed glared accusingly at him. The constant screams and pleas filled his ears and the layer of ash on the floor grew deeper by the moment.

“You put yourself in the role of judge, jury and executioner,” Nevermore’s snarl rose above the screaming. “You sentence other ponies with a single glance; you destroy the lives of others on a whim, you murder ponies without hesitation. You present yourself as a champion of justice and the law, when the truth is, with the way you deal with the lives of others, you may as well be playing god!”

”Stop it!” Phillip shouted, his voice rebounding through the endless hallway. Instantly, the hallucinations disappeared, banished by his fury. Exhausted by the effort, Phillip slumped, panting.

Suddenly, he heard a roar behind him. Whirling around, his eyes widened in shock as he saw that the walls behind him were suddenly bursting into flames, the intense heat and light rushing at him like a train. Moved to action by sheer panic, Phillip raced forward. Miraculously, a doorway appeared in front of him and he rammed his way through, slamming it shut behind him.

Panting, Phillip got back to his hooves and looked around, blinking in confusion. He recognized where he was...but it was impossible.

On either side of him were buildings, reduced to burnt-out shells. The ground was bare of any plant life, scorched dirt stretching in every direction. The scent of smoke hung in the dry, heavy, still air. There was no sign of any life. The scene was familiar, achingly familiar; this was what Sydneigh had looked like the last time he’d seen it, long ago.

But this wasn’t Sydneigh. That was the Sugarcube corner right in front of him, and he could see the dilapidated roof of Carousel Boutique to his left. This was Ponyville.

“Welcome home, Mr. Finder,” Nevermore’s voice taunted from the nothingness.

“This is not my home,” Phillip growled, pushing forward down the remnants of main street. “This is just one of your sick games.”

“No, you are home, Mr. Finder,” Nevermore replied. “And there’s somepony I want you to meet.”

Somepony walked out of the empty house in front of Phillip. Even though his face was concealed in shadow, he recognized him instantly; it was the phantom stalker, the pony who looked like his father's murderer. He stepped forward, preparing for confrontation, then stopped, his jaw dropping as he finally recognized the other pony.

It was himself. His double grinned at him, his eyes blazing with malice. Bright red scars crisscrossed his entire body.

“No…” Phillip whispered, taking an uncertain step back. Dread filled his entire being; he feared the thing before him, feared it more than anything than he had ever seen.

The duplicate of himself raised his hoof and a ring of flames erupted around Phillip, trapping him within. He cried out and stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

“It’s all your fault,” his twin sneered, his voice a distorted echo of his own. “You killed your father, and you’ve killed dozens of others...like Zipline and Rainbow. Manipulated them, sacrificed them as part of your own personal vendetta, all so you can pretend to be some kind of god! You’re no better than Zugzwang and Nevermore!” He leered down over Phillip’s trembling form.

“What gave you the right? You monster!”

Monster...monster...monster… The accusation, the realization of what he was, echoed in Phillip’s mind.

“I’m not a monster,” he whispered to himself, fighting to get up. “I’m not a monster…”

”Isn’t it kind of like what you do?”

“I’m not a monster…” he choked out.

”I don’t think you hurt them because you needed to. I think you hurt them because you wanted to.”

“I’m not a monster…” His voice came in a pained whisper, barely audible over the voices in his head, the crackling of the flames and his twin’s taunting laughter.

”I am not, never was, and never will be a good pony.”

“I’m not a monster…” Phillip chanted feebly, curling up into a fetal position on the ground. “I’m not a monster…”

Zipline crept along the dark hallway, tightly gripping his revolver, barely daring to breathe. He had to remind himself to keep calm with every step.

“Rainbow Dash!” he called out. No reply. He took another step forward and heard something click. Suddenly, the wall beside him opened up, the floor tilted beneath him and he tumbled out of the funhouse and back into the rain. He scrambled back to his hooves, recollecting his weapon, when he heard hoofsteps behind him. He whirled around, raising his weapon, but froze when he recognized the newcomer.

“Rainbow Dash?” He holstered his weapon and hurried over to the mare. “Are you all right? What—”

He stopped, suddenly realizing that something was wrong. Rainbow Dash was wearing a muzzle over her face and had a collar secured around her neck with a lock. There was a black box on the collar with a blinking red light on it. She was shaking violently, her chest heaving with breath, and her bright red eyes glared at him with a mixture of terror and rage.

“Rainbow?”

Nevermore’s voice spoke over a hidden speaker, echoing through the park: ”Kill him.”

Before Zipline had time to react, Rainbow charged right at him, ramming into him at full speed and sending him skidding backwards across the mud. She tried to follow up with a flying dive kick, but Zipline rolled out of the way. “Rainbow, stop!” he cried.

But Rainbow Dash did not seem to hear him, whirling around kicking at his head. Zipline ducked, then propelled himself into the air, trying to get away from her. “It’s me! It’s Zipline!”

With a muffled shout of mingled fear, desperation and rage, Rainbow Dash flew up after him, tackling him in midair. The two pegasi struggled in the sky. Rainbow began to fly higher up into the air, dragging Zipline with her. Zipline inadvertently glanced down and saw the ground several feet below, spiraling away from him. His stomach clenched and his head spun with vertigo; his wings froze up in panic.

“Listen to me!” he begged. “You have to fight it! You have to—”

His plea was interrupted by a hard knee strike to his gut. His grip on Rainbow slackened and he felt himself falling. Rainbow drew her knees up and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him rocketing down to the ground and crashing into a booth. Heavy boards cascaded down onto him, pinning him to the ground. Dazed, he looked up to see Rainbow Dash landing in front of him. She stared down at him, her eyes wide over the muzzle. She trembled from cold and adrenaline.

“Rainbow…” he said weakly through his aching ribs.

”Kill him now, Rainbow Dash.”

Slowly, Rainbow reached down and pulled a gun out of a holster beneath her wing. She clutched it tight, her hoof shaking. Zipline froze, staring at the weapon in horror.

”If you don’t kill him, then I will. I will make it slow and painful. And I will make you watch. And then I will kill you.”

She raised the gun. Rain dripped off the black barrel, which she pointed directly at Zipline’s face.

“Rainbow Dash…” Zipline begged, his blood running cold at the sight.

”Good girl…” Nevermore’s voice whispered. ”Good girl…”

The gun went still, aimed right between Zipline’s eyes. The hammer of the weapon slowly drew back.

“Please…”

BLAM.

Author's Notes:

Now that's a cliffhanger.

But what happens next? You're going to have to wait and see...