Chapter 136

Knight Mare paused, standing outside the double doors of the banquet hall. She reached up to adjust her hair as she looked to the right to scan the hallway, and then to the left. She’d received word that the target had been secured, and it was time to enter the hall to confront her.

With a long exhale to quell the apprehension of what she was about to see, she gripped the door handles and yanked them open. She had, after all, chosen not to watch her partner’s attack, and she was unsure if anyone else had either—aside from Golden Arrow.

The sight that met her was not what she expected; a sparkling, blue staircase led upward several feet, encased in a hallway comprised of nothing but diamond. With a perplexed look, she paused, cocked her head, drew a breath and made her way up.

Her heels clacked along the hard surface as she ascended to discover a passage that led to the right. She followed the bend, her footsteps echoing noisily as she entered a modest-sized chamber at the end. In it was Gage, her face contorted with pain, crouched down and clutching her knee, which was bleeding profusely.

The Dark Mistress was standing with her back facing the entrance. Knight Mare was surprised to see that her hair was down, presumably because she’d lost her tie during the action.

After another look around at the shimmering walls and ceiling, she spoke. “Hey, what’s with the little room you got going on here?” she asked as she approached the pair.

The Mistress turned to face her, revealing a face covered in crimson.

“Whoa!” Knight Mare recoiled at the sight, to which the Mistress rolled her eyes. “Uh… you know, you’re gonna need to clean up a bit before we get outta here, right?”

“Yes I know, I… seem to have gotten a bit messy,” she replied, smacking her lips and grimacing. “As for your first question, I saw the need to keep the room below us out of sight, for your sake—as well as… you know who… when she arrives. Also, I believe there may be a few stomachs and bowels that were opened up down there, and the smell is… not pleasant.”

Knight Mare chewed her lip and glanced down at the translucent floor. She was unable to make out any precise detail of what lied beneath, other than a whole lot of red. She looked at the Dark Mistress again. “Probably a good call,” she nodded.

The masked women then turned their attention to the beige-skinned girl, who had now noticed the new presence in the space, and her eyes were darting back and forth between the two.

“Wait, there’s two of you?” she grunted.

“More than that, darling,” the Mistress said, looking down at her fingertips as she rubbed flakes of dried blood from them.

“Who are you people?” Gage asked.

Knight Mare sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but we’re wearing masks,” she said, pointing at her face. “We’re probably not gonna tell you who we are. Make sense?”

Gage clenched her jaw and stared for a moment. Then she looked down at the floor.

“Go easy on her, darling, she‘s been through a lot tonight,” the Mistress joked. “To be honest, I was a bit apprehensive that I might capture the wrong person, but it seems your description was… shall we say, on point?”

Knight Mare nodded. “Yeah, no. That’s definitely her. You were right.”

This exchange caught Gage’s attention, and she looked up at the larger masked girl. “How do you know me?”

Knight Mare folded her arms. “We’ve met.”

Gage scowled, her eyes moving around the floor as she thought. Then she looked up again, shaking her head.

“Yes, we have,” Knight Mare said, glancing at the Mistress, who waved a dismissive hand.

“Why don’t you just show her, darling? We are free of surveillance in here; plus the cameras are disabled anyway,” she said, pointing her nose up—an uppity gesture that the red-head found absurd, given that her face was caked with blood.

Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, Knight Mare considered the Mistress’ suggestion. Then she gave a quick shrug. “OK,” she said, reaching up to hook her thumbs under her mask to peel it from her face.

Gage watched with widening eyes as she watched the red-head pull the tie from her hair, shaking her head to unravel it before looking her dead in the eyes. A wave of goosebumps washed over her the instant she realised who it was.

“You…” she said, pointing a finger. “From the bar!”

“That’s right,” Sunset replied with a smirk.

Gage sneered. “But… they dumped you in the river! How did you get out?”

Sunset glanced at the Mistress. “Like she said, there’s more of us.”

Confounded, Gage shook her head. “But how did they find you? Your phone was wrecked, and we made sure you didn’t have any tracking dev—“

The red-head closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah-yeah, your people electrocuted me. I remember.”

The beige girl paused. “Then… how?”

Sunset folded her arms and leaned forward. “We see everything.”

To this, Gage simply stared back. Then she grimaced in pain, furrowing her brows as she looked down and clutched her knee.

The Mistress turned to Sunset when she saw this. “I think we’d better bring her in here before our dear little Gage passes out.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” Sunset replied as she put her mask back on and adjusted it, opting to leave her hair down. She then placed her fingertips to her earpiece. “You guys ready? … OK, bring her in.”

Gage was looking up at them again, wondering what was coming next.

“We have someone we’d like you to meet,” the Mistress said, noticing their captive’s inquisitiveness.

“Who?”

“You’ll see,” Knight Mare replied. “And trust me when I tell you: it’s gonna be really awkward.”

Gage sighed and licked her lips, looking past the pair of vigilantes when she heard more footsteps coming up the stairs.

The masked women turned as well, waiting patiently while they listened to the sound to two pairs of feet making their way toward them.

It wasn’t long before the figures came into view: one of them was an imposing blonde girl, wearing an outfit and mask identical to the other two —other than having a cluster of red apples on her thighs— and the other was a curvy, pink-skinned girl with long, straight hair of a slightly darker hue, wearing a white T-shirt with a big heart on it, a blue jacket and pink dress with blue and yellow balloons on it. Beneath that, she wore some light blue leggings and a pair of pink boots.

The masked one was holding the other by the arm to lead her along, talking quietly to her. “Don’t worry, sugarcube. You can do this; just gotta waltz right up ta her and give ‘er a piece ‘a yer mind, like we practiced.”

The pink girl nodded. They’d reached the top of the stairs by then, and were making their way toward the other three.

Gage recognised Pinkie right away, having seen pictures of her while she was in the Pie house. She rolled her eyes and groaned, looking off to the side, not wanting to face her. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

When they stopped between the Dark Mistress and Knight Mare, the masked one nodded to the red-head first and then turned to the Mistress and immediately cringed.

“Yeesh, R—er, I mean, uh, Dark Misses.”

“Mistress.”

“Er… yeah. Sorry. I think yer gonna hafta hit the showers when we git outta here; ya got blood all over yer tater tots.”

The Mistress pursed her lips and nodded, looking down at her crimson-smeared cleavage. “I’m aware.”

Pinkie’s attention was locked squarely on Gage, her expression empty.

Gage didn’t dare return the look.

Knight Mare patted Pinkie on the shoulder. “OK. Now’s your chance to say your piece.”

Pinkie drew a deep breath and then released it, prompting the red-head to give her arm a squeeze. “You can do it.”

To this, the party-girl steeled herself and took a step forward, but then she paused when Gage continued to avoid eye contact with her.

Unimpressed by this, Knight Mare glanced at Alphajack and gave a quick nod.

The blonde nodded back and marched forward to approach the beige girl.

Gage drew a quick breath and raised a defensive hand when she saw the large woman approach, glaring sharply from her mask with a pair of emerald eyes. “Git up, you! Show some dang respect!” she barked as she grabbed Gage by the shoulder and hoisted her to her feet with one hand.

She hollered as the movement disturbed her injured knee, forced to put all of her weight on her good leg when placed in a standing position.

Pinkie Pie approached solemnly, hands folded in front of herself.

Now, Gage had no choice but to meet eyes with the party girl. After staring intently at one another for a moment, it was Pinkie who faltered first and let her eyes fall to the side. After a deep, shaky breath, she looked down at the floor.

“I miss my family,” she said softly, forcing herself to look into the face that destroyed everything. Tears immediately streamed down her cheeks.

Gage exhaled deeply and scowled, looking off to the side.

“Why?” Pinkie continued, struggling to keep her voice still. “What made you think it was OK to…” —she paused to swallow— “to take their lives away? What did they ever do to you?”

Feeling extremely uneasy by the situation, Gage rolled her jaw, her eyes darting around while making sure to avoid Pinkie.

“I… I know they… I mean, we weren’t perfect,” the party girl continued. “I didn’t get along with my sisters very well. And my Dad wouldn’t let us go, which I knew wasn’t very healthy… but… a friend of mine taught me that families can fall apart if they don’t work on themselves. That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to get along and have fun with my sisters again, and I wanted to teach my Dad that we’ll always be his little girls… even if we didn’t all live under the same roof.

“But now… they’re gone. It’s too late to fix it. My family is gone, and they died with animosity towards each other… and me. I waited too long to make things right.” She sighed deeply. “I failed, and that makes me super-sad.”

Clenching her right fist, Pinkie watched the beige girl for a moment, who looked like she wanted to sneer at the sappy lecture, but wouldn’t dare with the three masked individuals standing there.

Even in the face of her victim, Gage appeared to feel little guilt or remorse for her actions. She just stood there, avoiding eye contact, licking her bottom lip to taste the sting where it’d been split by the Mistress’ boot.

This did not site well with the other girls.

“Tshh!” Alphajack shook her head as she retreated a step, stopping to look back at Gage. “Y’all are some piece a’ work, y’know that? What kinda upbringing did ya have, anyway? Who in the hell raised you?”

Gage’s expression quickly flattened, and she locked eyes with the tall blonde.

“No one, really,” Knight Mare said, watching the beige girl. “That’s the whole problem.”

Alphajack waved the red-head off. “Yeah, I get it. That don’t make it OK though. Ain’t a day goes by I don’t miss my ma n’ pa, but that don’t give me the right ta do somethin likes that. Hurtin others ain’t gonna bring em back.”

“I don’t want mine back,” Gage snipped as she glowered at Alphajack.

This made the three masked girls pause; they glanced around at one another. The Dark Mistress then looked down at the floor and sighed. “Fair enough,” she said, looking up to face Pinkie. “Alright, darling. Go ahead and say what you need to say.”

With a soft inhale, Pinkie reached out with her left hand to grab Gage’s right. She brought it up, uncurling those bloody, beige fingers. “I want you to have something,” she said, her voice shaking as she fought the tears back. Bringing her right hand up, she placed it overtop of Gage’s and dropped something into her palm.

It was a marble.

Pinkie sniffled. “This is for my baby sister,” she said, looking down at the shiny little sphere. “She wasn’t really my baby sister; we were twins. She was born a few minutes after me, but… to me, she was my baby sister. And she always would’ve been.”

Holding onto Gage’s wrist, Pinkie closed the other girl’s fingers around the momento.

“I want to you remember this. Remember that this little glass ball is all that’s left... of…”

Pinkie trailed off when she noticed something—something rather horrifying. Gage’s fingers, where Pinkie was touching them, had begun to glow. Then, slowly, a shimmering, pink light traveled past her knuckles and up her hand.

Gasping, the party girl let go and took a step back, watching the energy sparkle its way past the other girl’s wrist and up her arm. “No...” she whispered, covering her mouth and shaking her head.

A perplexed Gage brought her arm up, watching the light shine through her sleeve as it traveled past her shoulder and beamed from her collar. “What is this?” she cried, breathing heavily with elevating panic. “What are you doing to me!?”

Eyes wide, Pinkie watched in horror as the victim’s face began to ignite with energy. “NO!” she sobbed, turning to shuffle away. She shoved past Knight Mare and ran down the steps, prompting the red-head to glance back at her before turning her attention to Gage again.

“Aw, Dang…” Alphajack said, mouth open.

Knight Mare slapped her shoulder. “AJ, go after Pinkie! Don’t let her run off alone!”

After a stunned glance, Alphajack gathered herself and nodded. “Right,” she said, before sprinting down the stairs in pursuit of her friend.

Turning back, Knight Mare found Gage completely engulfed in shimmering pink. Beams of light shone from her sleeves and collar, and she had begun to scream in agony as every cell in her body became supercharged with energy, burning her from the inside out.

The red-head looked over at the Dark Mistress, who was backing away slowly.

“RARE!”

The Mistress glanced over at her, slack-jawed. Then she drew a breath and closed her mouth, giving a nod. “Right,” she said. She raised a hand, and a wall of diamond quickly shot up between them and Gage, sealing her inside.

Seconds later, there was a deafening BOOM that rumbled the entire place, accompanied by a flash of light that took the cubed shape of the space that’d become the young girl’s tomb. Cracks began to race along the ceiling, walls and under their feet, surrounding them with an ear-piercing crackle as the vigilantes steadied themselves, holding their arms out for balance as they prayed for the structure to not give out.

Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, had burst into the hallway just as the explosion rocked the floor beneath her feet. Sobbing, she fell to her hands and knees and promptly vomited all over the carpet, then she continued to cry, her hair dangling into the puddle of half-digested icing and putrid chocolate.

Alphajack emerged seconds later, screeching to a halt when she found her friend sobbing on the floor. She paused, realising the poor girl had gotten sick, traumatized by the carnage she’d just wrought on her enemy. After a quick look around, she lowered herself to one knee and placed her hand on Pinkie’s back.

“Hey… shhh, it’s alright,” she said softly.

But Pinkie was inconsolable.

Alphajack sighed. She wasn’t very good at dealing with emotional people—especially in a situation this intense. She gave her face a rub, glancing down the hall again.

After deep sigh, she brought her eyes back to her friend, shaking her head at the situation. “Dang it, Pinkie Pie. That wasn’t part a’ the plan,” she said, leaning down to hook her arms under her friend. “Come on. Let’s get ya outta here,” she whispered as she scooped Pinkie up and stood. The party girl hooked her arms around the back of the masked girl’s neck and buried her face in her shoulder, sobbing noisily as she was carried off.

Inside the glass room, the rumble had finally passed, the light from the explosion faded. Knight Mare and the Dark Mistress stood still for a moment, waiting to see if the floor was going to collapse, dumping them into the ballroom below. All was quiet and the structure felt solid, so the pair slowly relaxed, glancing at each other as they exhaled through pursed lips.

Knight Mare gave her head a shake. “Whew. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Indeed,” the Mistress replied.

They turned their attention to the wall before them, which they couldn’t see through. The other side was obscured with a layer of what looked like crimson-coloured velvet.

Sighing, the Mistress, with reluctance, raised her hand. The dividing wall vanished, cracks and all, leaving behind a curtain of blood that immediately fell to the floor with a muted splash.

Knight Mare cringed upon seeing the space, its walls painted with blood, the floor littered with scraps of flesh and clothing, interspersed with pieces of bone—including part of a rib cage and a whole mandible that sat in the center, half of its teeth missing.

The red-head blinked a few times. “Yikes.”

The Mistress nodded vacantly. “Yes.” She turned to face her comrade. “It would seem that our new friend has… gone out with a bang.”

Knight Mare glanced back at her, incredulous. “I worry about you sometimes.”

The Mistress paused, and then looked down at herself. “Hm.”

“What? That was a weird time to make a pun.”

“I was only stating the obvious.”

Knight Mare drew a breath and raised her hand to block the mess from view. “OK… I don’t wanna look at that anymore. We should probably move out; a lot of people probably heard that explosion—plus it looks like the rest of our plans for Gage have been cancelled.”

“You’re appear to be right, darling.”

The pair turned to make their way down the steps.

“I get the distinct impression that Pinkie Pie did not intend to do that.”

Knight Mare shook her head. “No… I don’t think she did.”

Outside, Alphajack was hauling Pinkie Pie toward the stairwell, which was just around the bend. As she approached the corner, she heard the voices of two men.

“I dunno what it was, but it was damn loud,” one of them was saying as they rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the masked woman carrying the other girl in her arms. After a short stare-off, Alphajack quickly brought her foot up and drove it into the chest of the man on the right, sending him across the corridor and into the opposite wall, splintering the wood where he hit.

She then slung Pinkie over shoulder to free up one hand as the second man drew a gun from inside his suit jacket. She gripped him by the forearm before he could fire, making him shriek in agony when she pointed the weapon to the ceiling and squeezed tightly, forcing him to drop it when she gave his arm a violent shake.

Then Alphajack released his arm, grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him into the air before turning and launching him down the hall in the direction of the ballroom doors. After sailing about thirty feet, he hit the floor and rolled that same distance again, his limbs flailing and thumping along the floor as he passed Knight Mare and the Dark Mistress, who’d just emerged from the ballroom.

They stopped, surprised, and after a quick glance at the man once he’d come to rest, they both looked at Alphajack, who, with Pinkie still over her shoulder, threw her free hand into the air.

“You two comin, er what? I need some cover out here!”

After a second glance at the now motionless rag doll, the Mistress gave a smirk to the blonde girl. “Could’ve fooled me, darling.”

*****

In the upper levels of the building sat a small control room. Just inside the door was a pair of office chairs that sat before a large security station. Its console was loaded with buttons and controls, a pair of microphones and a speaker in the center. On the wall was a vast array of monitors, showing multiple views of each and every floor: nearly every hallway, lobby, elevator, stairwell, and so on—excluding the actual suites, of course, and certain staff areas, like the kitchen.

In the room sat a late-twenties man, wearing a button-up shirt under a knitted burgundy vest. A pair of thick-framed glasses sat low on his nose, which he pushed up as he looked at the screens.

The door behind him opened, and in stepped a middle-aged man with a buzz cut. He was wearing a weathered gray suit, one that looked like it’d withstood years of tedious customer service management—much like the man who wore it. On top of that, this man exhibited an undercurrent of hostility, borne out of a history of violence and intimidation.

The man at the console turned to see who’d entered. “Ah… Mr. Hopper.”

“I got your text,” Hopper replied. “I take it the intercom is still down?”

The younger man nodded. “Yeah—which is weird because I don’t see any actual problems with it; by all rights, it should be working. It just isn’t.” He turned back to the screens.

Hopper paused inquisitively, and then closed the door behind him. “So…?”

The other man didn’t respond. He just stared at the screens.

“Juno,” Hopper insisted, making the other man turn to face him.

“What?”

Hopper shrugged. “Why did you call me up here?”

“Oh, um…” Juno paused, glancing at the screens again.

“Is this about what happened in the lounge?”

Juno looked at Hopper, blinking. “Uh, no. We haven’t learned anything about that yet—other than the kitchen staff next door being knocked out as well.” He narrowed his eyes at the screens and sighed. “It’s weird, that whole thing. I mean, the guys who went to check it out said that some of guys looked like they’d been hit by a truck. Like... massive trauma.” He turned to look up at Hopper, who had approached to scan the monitors. “What could do that? A bunch of guys in a bar fight can’t inflict that kind of damage. I mean... the whole room looked like it’d been in an explosion—only not.”

“Have any of them said anything about what happened?”

Juno sighed and faced the screens again, the bright, square shapes of which reflected in his glasses, obscuring his eyes. “Yeah. Apparently one of them told security that it was a girl. Wearing a mask.”

Hopper scowled.

“Yeah,” Juno replied, knowing how that sounded. “His exact words were: ‘she could move shit with her brain.’”

The older man rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.” He faced Juno. “I hope we don’t have people stealing product again.”

“Could be. One of others just kept repeating, ‘I’m goin around the apex’—whatever that means.”

“Yeah well, tell your guys to kill those fuckers on the spot if they find out they’ve been helping themselves to the merchandise.”

Juno nodded. “Will do.”

Hopper folded his arms, but kept one hand free to stroke his chin. He stared at the screens, deep in thought, then he pointed at them and spoke. “You said the kitchen staff was knocked out too?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t there an exit near there?”

Juno looked up at him. “The kitchen? Yeah, but it hasn’t been opened all night. No one’s used it.”

“Hm.” Hopper steepled his fingers and ruminated in silence. Then he cleared his throat. “So… why did you call me up here if you don’t know anything yet?”

“I didn’t,” Juno replied, placing his fingers over his mouth as he let out a soft yawn. Then he swung a finger at the monitors. “I’ve been getting a feeling over the last little bit that there’s more going on; and that the lounge thing was just the beginning.”

Hopper adjusted his stance. “Go on.”

Juno glanced at the array of screens. “Well… there’s already the issue of the camera glitching out in the lounge —and obviously the commotion in there— but not only that, ever since the intercom went down I’ve had the security guys checking in with me through text, and…” He glanced down at his phone, and then up at Hopper. “Several of them have stopped replying.”

“For how long?”

Juno looked at the screens and swallowed. “Some only about fifteen/twenty minutes; some over an hour.”

Hopper rubbed his chin. “But you haven’t seen anything.”

Juno adjusted his glasses. “Nothing,” he said, gesturing to the screens. “It looks like a pretty quiet night, in all honestly.”

“Hm.”

The younger man quickly raised his finger. “That’s not all though; about ten minutes ago, the front desk received a shit-ton of complaints from guests, saying they heard an explosion.”

Surprised, Hopper looked down at Juno. “Explosion? Where?”

“Uh, the calls were coming from the seventh to the twelfth floors, but security on those floors reported nothing—except for the ninth floor. Those guys haven’t gotten back to me yet.”

“No fires or anything?”

Juno shook his head. “No. None of the alarms were set.”

“Hm.” The older man scratched behind his ear, brows furrowed. “Isn’t the ninth floor the sky lobby?”

Juno nodded. “Yeah, there’s the lobby itself, plus the coffee shop, the pool —which closes at nine— and the two banquet halls.”

Hopper scanned the screens again, looking for something out if place until he found one of the halls filled with people seated at their tables, talking and drinking. “Oh yeah, they’ve got that fucking meeting tonight,” he muttered. “Jesus, they’re still waiting on dinner?”

“Yeah, well… the chefs can’t very well cook when they’re laying unconscious on the floor,” Juno replied. “I think the banquet manager ordered some catering from an outside company, but it hasn’t shown up either. I think they stiffed us, personally.”

Hopper leaned forward suddenly, eyes narrowed as he studied the screen more closely. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Juno watched, confused at first, but was then taken aback when the older man turned to glare at him with an angry sneer.

Without warning, Hopper grabbed Juno by the ear and yanked him out of the chair, making him yelp and then wince as his face was shoved close to one of the screens.

“Are you looking at these screens, or what!?” Hopper growled.

“Hnnnngh!” Juno twisted his head around to relieve the pressure on his ear. “I… I-I—“

The older man jabbed his finger at the corner of the display. “What time does that say?”

Grimacing, Juno craned his neck to read the tiny numbers. “Ten… ngh! Ten twenty-eight.”

“And what time is it now?” Hopper asked, holding his watch in front of the other man’s face.

Juno paused when he saw the numbers, his brow furrowing slightly. “E… e-eleven thirty-two.”

Juno was tossed back into his chair as Hopper scanned the other monitors. “Look… LOOK!” he shouted, pointing his finger this way and that. “A whole bunch of them are off! You fff...” He turned back to face Juno with a snarl, then he delivered several swift whacks to the side of his head.

“OW, OW! FUCK!” the younger man cried, shielding himself with his arms.

“Someone’s fucking with our system!” Hopper shouted as he grabbed Juno by the shoulders and turned him around to face the door. “You get your ass down to the ninth floor and find out what the fuck’s going on!”

He shoved the younger man toward the door, adding a swift kick to his ass for emphasis.

After stopping himself by placing his hands against the door, Juno looked back at Hopper, scowling. “Alright! Jesus,” he whined, opening the door to step out.

Now alone, Hopper folded his arms and faced the monitors, shaking his head and releasing an exasperated sigh.

*****

Cobblestone Street was the road that ran along the east side of a large city block—the same block on which the Hotel resided. On the corner of this street and one Hayward Avenue, four attractive young women stood by the curb; it appeared to the average passer-by that they were waiting for a taxi, or possibly an Uber.

One of them was a tall blonde, standing with her arm around a shorter pink-haired girl, whose head hung low. Next to her was a woman in a leather jacket, sporting a head of red hair with yellow highlights. Last, but not least, there was an elegant, petite lady with pale skin; her violet hair was rather unkempt, however, and traces of crimson could be seen in the creases of her face, behind her ears, in the corners of her eyes and nose and so on.

Just then, a full-sized white van approached and pulled over, right in front of them.

The red-head looked down at her phone.

“Right on time,” she muttered as the blonde girl approached the rear doors and swung them open.

The girls piled in and closed the doors behind them. As they each found a spot to sit, the driver —who was none other than Twilight Sparkle— twisted around to face them.

“Hey guys, how’d it go?”

Sunset gave her a nod as she sat down. “Not bad,” she said, pausing to glance at Pinkie, who was huddled against Applejack, crying softly. “Um… other than Pinkie’s heart-to-heart with the target.”

Twilight cocked her head. “I’m sorry?”

Rarity raised her chin at the lavender girl. “I think it best not to pry, darling. A bit later, perhaps?”

Brows furrowed, Twilight’s eyes shifted onto Sunset, who raised her fist and then splayed her fingers suddenly, indicating an explosion.

Twilight’s brows went up. “Ah,” she replied, turning slowly to face the steering wheel again. “I see.” She pulled the shifter down into drive, and the van quietly rolled away.

Rarity drew a breath and crossed her legs. “Well, Sunset? Did you learn everything you were hoping tonight?”

Sunset let her head fall back, resting it on the wall as her eyes floated up to the ceiling. “Not as much as I wanted, no.”

“Hm. Unfortunate.”

Sunset shrugged. “I mean… it’s not like I came away with nothing, but…” —she shook her head— “apparently they are extremely secretive about who is actually running the show; only the high-ups, who have demonstrated their loyalty are privileged with that information.”

“Why?” AJ asked. “Why keep it a secret? Don’t these folks care who they’re workin for?”

“It’s to protect the leader.”

“Protect?” Rarity asked, cocking her head.

Sunset nodded. “From being exposed,” she explained. “Incase somebody wanted to mutiny or blackmail him.” She turned to face the fashionista. “He’s a public figure. Someone very well respected in the community. It’s all a front, of course—a kind of social immunity from suspicion. That’s why the only people who know who he really is are people that he trusts; otherwise, if he were to be exposed, the whole thing would come crashing down.”

Rarity rubbed her chin. “Hmm… a public figure. A politician? Or a judge, perhaps?”

Sunset shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. I couldn’t find a name.”

The fashionista sighed. “We must be patient. It will come, all in good time. This battle has been won, but I feel the war has only begun.”

*****

It was 11:45pm. Hopper leaned on the control panel to watch the screens, noticing more and more patterns of repeating footage playing before him. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered as his cell phone began to ring.

He pulled it out to see who it was. Juno’s name was on the display, so he answered it and placed it to his ear, facing the screens again.

“Talk to me.”

”OK, so... I’m just entering the ninth floor now. A couple of my guys were found in the stairwell. Dead. That’s all I’ve seen so far. I’m heading to the ballroom now; gonna ask if anyone there has seen or heard anything.”

Hopper shook his head impatiently. “Why are you just getting to the ninth floor now? What’s taking so long?”

”Uh... well, on the way down here, one of my guys texted me, saying that room 805 had been broken into, so I went to check that out first.”

“And?”

”Weird. The door had been smashed in, but the only thing we found was some blood in the bathroom. And water. It was like someone was trying to wash off or something.”

Hopper sighed and glanced at the door behind him, feeling somewhat apprehensive by the news. “Hm. That can’t be good.”

“No. I would agree,” Juno replied. ”OK... the banquet hall is just around the corner.” There was a short pause. “Some damage on the wall here; looks like something slammed into it.”

“Do you see anybody?”

”No. I’m gonna keep going, though. The ballroom is just down here.”

Hopper listened to the soft padding of feet on a carpet through his phone. Then there was a pause.

”Someone puked out here, right by the doors. Probably had too much to drink; not sure why no one’s called housekeeping to clean it up.” Another pause, followed by the sound of sniffing. ”Oh! Wow, something smells really bad around here—and it’s not the puke. It’s something else.” A loud rattling sounded through the phone next. ”Huh. The ballroom doors are locked.”

Hopper furrowed his brow. “Can you hear them in there?”

”Not really, no. It’s pretty quiet.”

***

Sitting in my truck, I glanced at the clock.

11:45pm.

I glanced at the burger joint once more —which had closed for the night— before popping the last bite of yet another terrible cheeseburger in my mouth. I crumpled the wrapper into a ball, threw it into the bag, and then reached for my phone.

“Hey, how far are you guys from the hotel?”

”Quite a few blocks. We should be on the highway back to Canterlot in a few minutes. Why?”

“Just making sure. I’ll see you back in town. Great job tonight.”

”Thanks. We’ll see you in a bit.”

Looking down at my phone, I switched to the camera menu and highlighted all of the hotel cameras, prompting a message to pop up.

I selected ‘yes,’ and then set my phone down to start the truck. The engine rattled to life, obscuring the sound of my chuckle. “Enjoy the show, dickheads,” I said aloud as I looped the truck around and rolled onto the street.

***

In the control room, Hopper stood with the phone to his ear, watching in disbelief as the monitors began to update. The clocks in the corners of each synched to the proper time, and some of the imagery changed to show the real-time scenes. There were bodies visible on some views, propped inconspicuously into a hallway corner or laid-out in a stairwell; unfortunately for Mr. Hopper, however, he happened to be fixated on the ballroom when it switched from displaying a sea of tables occupied by people, drinking and talking jubilantly to a scene straight out of a nightmare.

Tables and chairs were overturned and smashed. Bodies were strewn everywhere, gutted, dismembered or bisected; heads, limbs and entrails were scattered about, all lying on a floor that was hidden under a solid layer of crimson.

Hopper’s mouth dropped open, his arm dropping as he beheld the horrific scenery, letting the phone retreat from his ear. “What the...” he whispered.

He stared in disbelief until he realised he could hear the tinny sound of Juno’s voice coming from his phone. He swallowed heavily and brought it back to his ear, listening.

”Yeah... I dunno. It actually seems like the doors are jammed, not locked. The handles are turning, but they won’t open. We might have to break our way in.”

Hopper shook his head slowly. “Don’t bother.”