Death sighs at the images playing in the crystal orb. It appears Shade has found a disciple. The last thing Death needs in her world is Shade creating her Arbiters; bad enough they already run Earth 2000 AD. No. Death needs to nip this in the bud. People flash on the orb as Death filters through the masses to choose a champion for this world.

Death stops the search. Champion. No. She does not need a champion, just someone to start Shade on the straight and narrow. Someone with strong morals, overall strong enough to capture Shade, and empathetic. A woman with peach skin, dirty blonde hair, and hazel eyes appears.

“Hmmm.” Death reaches into the orb and pulls out a scroll. The scroll contains all the information about the soul. Good moral compass, justifiable, strong willed, even tempered, prudent, dead. “Dead?! How long?” Further reading gives her the answer. “Six years. Killed off duty during a bank robbery when she sacrificed herself to the robbers as a negotiating chip in order to free the other hostages. Robbers got away.”

Skeletal fingers drum on the scroll.

“Yes. Yes, I can work with this.”

Stupid bitch!

Gunshot.

With a yelp, Apple Walker sits up in bed. Her eyes stare at the white wall as she steadies her breathing. That dream again. No. Not dream. Memory. She rubs her face with her hands and runs them through her damp, black hair. Looking at the clock tells her that she is awake ten minutes before her alarm.

She kicks off the sheets wet with her sweat. A couple of strides takes her to the bathroom.

“You look like shit,” the woman in the mirror says.

She laughs at her mirror counterpart, a single, dry exhale of breath. She starts a shower. When she slips out of the white tank top the white wishbone mark on her chest catches her eye in the foggy mirror as it glows faintly.

“It’s going to be one of those days, huh?” She presses her right hand over the mark.

Screams in her mind along with flashes of blood force her to all fours as the weight of dread and despair weigh her down. She curls up into a ball as she shivers hearing that laughter in her ears. The running water drowns out her sobs.

Apple Walker usually enjoys nights like these. Usually. The once comforting darkness hides every manner of demon and monster now. All the sounds of the night remain silent. No wind blows in from the coast. Stillness. Death. She allows the river to pull the kayak as she keeps her eyes open for danger. She pays no attention as she drifts opposite of the current.

Originally, Apple Walker had taken the Wildlife Warden job five years ago as way to help her get back to the swing of things after her one year coma. She quickly grew to enjoy the slow pace and nature that the title brings.

Her old partner in the Equestria Ranger Force, Tower Defender, had contacted her two years ago about a break in the bank heist. She had taken a relocation to Vanhoover to help him, unofficially, with the case. Two months of investigating turn up nothing new and Tower Defender has to return to Canterlot.

Something had made Apple Walker stay—something on her chest. A mark that she had woken up with along with the new black hair and pink irises. A mark that tells her when things are wrong. After going on two missing person searches in as many months, she had understood why the mark kept her here.

Teens committing suicide or straight up disappearing is sadly not uncommon in large cities. Vanhoover, while modern, pales in comparison to Phillydelphia or even Canterlot. Apple Walker needs to find out why these teens, ninety percent female, are disappearing and why local authorities are slow to respond. She needs more evidence to bring in Tower Defender and the ERF.

A light in the distance pulls Apple Walker back to the present. A small campfire at the tree line by the river bank illuminates two figures. She brings up her binoculars to get a better view of the figures one hundred meters away. A small blush lights up her face as she spots the two female teens naked. Regardless of their reasons, starting a fire out of camping zones is a major violation. Apple Walker paddles as quietly as she can to the shore.

When she gets within twenty meters of the couple, the pale one looks her way. Glowing yellow eyes freeze Apple Walker in her tracks along with her blood. Her chest flares with pain shaking her from her stupor.

“Wildlife Warden!” She calls out to the couple. “Stay where you are please.”

She sees the white one draw a circle around her chest with her hand. Apple Walker and the heliotrope teen share a look of confusion. Something glints in the fire light and Apple Walker’s blood freezes again when the white teen stabs the other in the chest. The white teen sprints into the woods.

“Halt!” Apple Walker shouts as she runs up to the small camp. The girl stares up at Apple Walker with wide eyes, tears streaming down her face. Taking off her green jacket, she covers the girl. “Just try to stay calm and don’t remove the knife. Help will be on its way.”

Apple Walker brings out her walkie-talkie to radio in.

Thirty minutes later and Apple Walker is searching the park with her the two other Wardens and the Vanhoover Police Officers that had responded to her call. Hounds bark and bray on the other side of the park announcing the arrival of reinforcements.

A pit grows in Apple Walker’s stomach. For some reason the fugitive leaves behind a noticeable trail to follow. The pit grows larger when she breaks through the bushes to see a cabin. Her chest burns. She flips off the safety of her sidearm and proceeds slowly. She radios in her location before entering the cabin.

The mark pulses slowly as she searches the front room making sure the coast is clear before proceeding. She follows the bloody boot prints from the steps out front. With each of her steps the mark increases in tempo. She stands at the top of the stairs leading to a basement and the mark vibrates, urging her forward. She pushes the metal door open instantly regretting her career choice.

Torn up remains of a body litter the ground two meters in front of her. Her breakfast immediately ejects from her stomach. She stabilizes herself with her hand on the wall as the second wave of sickness spills onto the first. A white foot catches the corner of her eye before her world goes black.