"Coming through!"

Vinyl and Octavia stopped reminiscing and flattened themselves against the sides of the tunnel. Three stallions trotted past, carrying white bags labeled Pure Cane Sugar, and green ones labeled Fragmentation Grenades.

"Hey, don't get those mixed up, or some kid'll have a really rotten day when she bites into a chocolate egg!" The vampire yelled after them.

"Maybe you would like to help sometime instead of slacking, Vinyl?" Her friend teased as they passed a room labeled Gumdrop Drop Forge.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, that's why I think we're going back. She wants that city. It's an honor thing."

"That was almost two years ago," the grey mare mused. "One would think that the Lady Bon Hadescream would have tried by now."

"I saw the Boss' eyes that night. She wants Manehattan like I want a nice thick pizza from that awesome pasta diner on Third and Hoofington." Her tongue swept across her chops. "Mmmmm... hey, maybe I can tour back there on my next concert. Get the lay of the land and stuff."

Octavia kept walking, but inwardly she trembled at the word concert. Vinyl was still alive and well. She had been "traumatized" by the death of her roommate, and had "taken a sabbatical" to refocus on her music. That had only caused ticket sales to go through the roof every time the Lady Bon Hadescream let her do a show. Octavia had helped with a few, donning a black shirt to cover her cutie mark and disappearing into the shadows with the rest of the stage crew. It was the closest she would ever get to a real concert, and more than she deserved. A mudpony had to know her place, those of earth were born to serve the master race.

"Octy?"

The grey mare shook herself. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Nah, you did. You were mutterin' something under your breath." She tilted down her glasses. "I thought you were reading the names off doors or somethin'. Ooh, there's one!" The vampire pointed to a plaque that read Chocolate Mixing River No.3. "I gotta admit, I wish they put up signs around the chocolate waterfall. How am I supposed to know that it's unsanitary to take a boogie board over the drop? I showered first!"

Octavia raised an eyebrow. "V-Vinyl, that made no sense at all."

"Neither did what you were sayin'." The DJ smiled, and wiggled her ears. Octavia was hers. Vinyl had trouble sharing, especially with some long-dead jerk dad. "So," she shoved open a blast door, "meant to ask earlier, how've those performances in the mess hall been going?"

The cellist blushed as they neared a junction. Steel beams reinforced the stonework at key junctures, and the nearest power box showed a fresh wax seal of inspection. The estate was old, but the Bon Hadescream Organization had made it a fortress when they took possession. A fortress that produced candy, and held guided tours who never saw what happened beyond the velvet ropes. The hardest thing for Octavia to wrap her head around had been the sheer size of the place. It seemed like a miniature city, populated with armed operatives marching here and there, carrying chocolate, foil, and Garand-pattern lasrifles. This was the heart of the Corporation, a hardy organ that never rested. Ponies rushed through the tunnels and corridors. Machines hissed and groaned as they produced delicious food and deadly weapons. Stone walls surrounded the castle proper, where the Great Brain feverishly tried to keep up with her duties. Every hour of the day and night, the work carried on.

To that end, the mess hall was a literal hall. Perhaps not as large as the Blueblood Concertorium, but certainly able to hold a hungry army. The high wood arches of the ceiling and sound absorbing tiles, designed to reduce the echo from mealtime chatter, even gave it decent acoustics. She had nervously asked the Lady Bon Hadescream if she might play during the off-hours, and received a startlingly abrupt, "yes, pass me that inkwell."

"I... I am starting to draw small crowds now." Rather large ones, actually. It was not a real stage, nor could she give proper performances since the operatives flowed in and out of the mess hall like blood through a pony's liver, but... it was what she loved to do. Octavia could not deny that she felt just a little like a princess, or more precisely a musician favored by a princess, performing in a castle for the castle guards. She knew it was just a fantasy. Mudponies were not princesses.

"All-right!" The vampire grinned. "You gotta do one when I'm vertical sometime. Get any roses thrown at you?"

The grey mare blushed again as they pushed open a pair of steel doors and stepped out onto a long bridge. Below them was a massive training room, filled with operatives. A pegasus darted over their heads with a blue-tipped practice rifle in his hooves. He glanced down at the two girls and winked, then tucked in his wings and dropped out of sight. Vinyl glanced over the railing. The operative fell fifteen meters, then flared his wings for a touch of control before crash-tackling a sandbag dummy. The vampire whistled, then glanced back to her partner. "Slick, eh?"

"Very." Octavia avoided eye contact and slowed her breathing.

"Yeah, those guys are nasty. Remember when they first stormed into that concert hall, one was gonna try and gut me with a bayonet?" She giggled. "Good times."

They walked in silence for a moment. Vinyl did not realize the importance of the quiet until they were halfway across the bridge. "Hey... that pegasus winked at us."

"He did?"

Vinyl licked her fangs. "Hmm. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he just winked at you."

The cellist huffed in annoyance.

Her friend rubbed against her as they walked. "Soo... what's his name?"

"How am I to know? Am I his keeper?"

"Are you?" Vinyl asked coyly. "I mean, if you're into that-"

"No!" The cellist hissed. Below them, a soft chirp quickly built to an ear-splitting booom! The bridge barely trembled. "He is just a-an operative who comes to some of my performances."

"Some?"

"Many. Well, most." She blushed again. "Does it matter?"

"Well, I need to know if he's live bait or not." The pale mare tilted back her red hat. "I kinda burn through the redshirts around here when I go out on missions. If you've got a crush on one-"

"Vinyl, I do not. You have met many fans, yes? You like them, they make you feel wonderful inside, but it is... it is not the same."

The vampire grinned. "Yeah, I get ya." Her eyes softened a little as they pushed through another set of doors. "But... I mean, would you? If he asked?"

The cellist blinked. Then she looked at the floor. "According to the Bon Hadescream Corporation, they are listed as Agents. They are operatives of the Organization. Their lives matter. We are Assets. We are just like AFVs or comm terminals, costly to replace, but ultimately..." She ran her tongue over her lips as a chill ran down her spine. "Expendable."

"It's not quite that bad, Octy." The pale mare protested.

"Regardless, it is best to remain focused on our missions. That is our function." They walked for a little while before she admitted, "but... if he continues to watch me play... I hope he will enjoy my performances. I hope all of them do. I feel so... Vinyl, it is my calling to make beautiful music, but to play in a place like this, to bring a touch of joy to those who see the things we do..."

"Might as well make the world a lil' brighter before we burn out, eh?"

The grey mare nodded. The two mares had entered a large room, with many corridors leading to and fro. A trio of ponies, each one carrying a large barrel labeled Agave Nectar, stepped off a cargo lift and marched down one of the tunnels. They were muttering something to themselves that sounded a lot like, "the wrath of the Bon Hadescream Organization is swift. It is reserved for the wicked, the unrepentant, and those who use high-fructose corn syrup."

Vinyl nodded toward the lift. "Well, you don't just sound great when you're on stage, Octy. You look good too, especially when you start swaying an' forth with the music." The vampire grinned. When she was really focused, every movement of the grey mare's body served a part of the song. A slight lean to the side would give her a better angle on the cello, while her twitching tail would keep time. Then her head would turn slightly as her ears listened to her instrument and the way the sound reflected back. As her ears twitched, her long black mane would swish over her shoulders and across her back, since she always played standing up. "And I'm not just saying that just because it gets your blood pulsing through your veins. Everypony can see how pretty you look when you're up on stage."

Octavia stared at the floor. "V-Vinyl..."

"What?" The vampire looked at her friend. A squad of rifle-toting operatives trotted past, yelling about some drill or another.

"Am I pretty?"

Vinyl Scratch halted abruptly and scratched her mane. "The hades kind of question is that? Of course you're pretty."

The earth pony winced as the unicorn's words carried through the room. Nopony stopped to look, and the cellist dared to hope that the hiss of machinery and the clop of hoof against stone had drowned it out. She bit her lip, then said quietly, "I... I wasn't taught to be pretty. I was taught to be forgettable. To blend into the background, to see but be unseen." Her voice had turned cold again. "My father was... conflicted about me. On the one hoof, I was not a unicorn. On the other, my coat was grey, and I was willing to learn anything."

If her dad was alive, I'd punch him in the nose. "So when boys said you were pretty, that wasn't a compliment?"

The cellist nodded, then began walking again. They boarded the lift, and Vinyl poked a button. A mesh screen slid over the front, and with a grind of machinery the lift rose. Octavia fiddled with her pink bow-tie. "I know he was... wrong, and he did teach me that there were some uses for beauty, but I... I am not used to being thought of in that way." She swallowed hard. "And, after I was out on my own, I... well, the boys who would tell me I was pretty did not have honest intentions."

Vinyl looked into her friend's eyes, then reached out and touched her shoulder. "Yeah. You're pretty. And don't let anypony ever tell you otherwise." She leaned back and ran a hoof through her electric blue mane. "Pretty ain't all about what you have on the outside. It's about how you walk, how you talk, and how you lay a smackdown on somepony who's bothering you. But, yeah, pretty's also about havin' a rockin' body," the vampire licked her fangs, "and yeah, I'd say you got that too, Octy. I grew up surrounded by photos of fashion models and critiques of awesome paintings. I could run a freakin' agency for certifying people as officially pretty."

The cellist bit back a smile.

"Hades, I could make bank with that idea!" Vinyl rubbed her front hooves together, and the Octavia could have sworn that she heard the crackle of lighting. Perhaps a science team was testing out a generator. "Yeah, gotta write that down... but as for you, I can officially certify and bonify you as one-hundred-percent Vinyl Scratch approved." She reached out and hugged her friend. "Mmm. Yeah, you're pretty. And if any boy says you ain't, I'mma knock his block off."

Octavia laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her feel good all over. "Thank you, Vinyl."

"Um-hmm. Anytime." She pulled back and adjusted her hat. "I own your soul. Stuff like this is part of the extended maintenance contract." A cruel grin crossed the vampire's muzzle.

The earth pony rolled her eyes. With a grind and a groan, the lift reached the surface. The screen slid aside to reveal a bustling warehouse, managed by a mare wearing a cheery Bon Hadescream Candy Co. shirt and a holstered laspistol. She waved to the two Assets, then scurried off to inspect an incoming shipment.

"Did you ever sit in the woods and watch the little ants go back and forth, Vinyl?"

The vampire blinked. "Sun. Ouch. Remember?" She rolled her shoulders. "Was it cool?"

"I suppose it was... for a little girl who had to learn to lie still for hours on end." The two mares trotted off the lift and joined the flow of traffic toward one of the warehouse's exits. Everypony seemed to shift a few steps away from them. "I feel rather like an ant who has just come out of the hill every time we come up to the surface."

Vinyl nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty close, except that the Queen Ant lives in a bossin' castle with Howitzers in the windows." They stepped out into the night and saw that castle, brightly lit by searchlights and navigational aids. Pegasi buzzed around its turrets, and a few AFVs patrolled the moat. The moon was low in the sky, for the hour was early and soon it would be dawn. The vampire yawned instinctively, and rolled her shoulders. She felt safe here. Thick walls of stone surrounded the facility, separating this little enclave from the outer world. The vast underground network below their hooves was far larger than the DJ had ever bothered to explore. This was the heart of Bon Hadescream, and the brain was the castle proper.

It was beautiful, like something out of a painting in a child's book. Tour guides had the best photo spots all marked out on their maps. A castle surrounded by warehouses, atop a massive manufacturing warren, all dedicated to the making of delicious candy. Ponies believed what they chose to believe, and most wanted to believe the Bon Hadescream Corporation were mere candymakers. The operatives made this mental leap as short as possible. Everything was as innocent as could be on the surface. Well, almost everything. Octavia frowned as her eyes fell on something else that rose up into the night sky.

"Lookin' at The Spire?" Vinyl asked.

"I... I still do not understand it. It is a monument to their dead, but... more than that." She pointed to the onyx obelisk. Its black stone was marbled with veins of purple that gave off no visible light, but seemed to glow through your eyelids when you blinked.

The vampire shrugged. "It's an icon. A symbol, like Celestia. Something from a forgotten time." Her mother had mentioned that it was very, very old. Dating back perhaps to the days when dragons ruled the world. How she knew about that the DJ did not know, and her mother's letter had self-destructed as soon as the vampire's eyes passed over the final word. Mom's always do that. "They carve names into it."

"Yes, I know. It is the tradition of the Organization, they have done it since their founding, almost a thousand years ago." The sniper narrowed her eyes. "Curious how there is always room for one more fallen hero."

"Hey, not my problem. I don't plan on havin' 'em ever worry about putting us up there." She yawned again. "C'mon. We need to catch some shuteye. Doesn't She have a job for us next nightfall?"

The cellist nodded. Their quarters were next to each other. Vinyl had a wonderful dilapidated crypt, which she filled with her coffin, speakers, and guns. Plus a few refrigerators, extra-loud subwoofers, a trophy rack for prized albums, various empty cartons and discarded wrappers, a few gun racks for holding her clothes, and a large pile of bits. A sign hung over the bits, proclaiming that they were the happy-fun-time pile. Surprisingly, this was actually very humble compared to the den of horrors she had turned her room into when they were renting together.

One afternoon, Octavia had returned to the apartment, expecting to find her roommate asleep as usual. Instead, Vinyl had all the blinds drawn tight and a small pile of dead rodents atop a tarp in the middle of the common room. Apparently, she had discovered a certain frequency that had rather messily ended them. The DJ had claimed that it was only retaliation, because they kept nibbling on her speaker cables. The cellist had explained patiently to her roomie that they would not be interested in the cables if she just kept her food in the kitchen and did not drop crumbs all over the floor, and yes the unicorn would have to clean all of this mess up before sneaking out to her concert tonight.

At the thought of those lean times, Octavia's stomach grumbled. The cellist had lived on carefully budgeted meals for a very long time before that last night in Manehattan had turned her life upside down. It had taken her three months to adjust to the idea that she could eat as much as she wanted at the mess hall, and there would always be more. The Bon Hadescream Organization held it as an article of faith that soldiers could only fight well if fed well. She had put on quite a few pounds, but according to her monthly physicals it was almost completely muscle mass. The earth pony had a strong suspicion that Vinyl's bite had done something to her metabolism. Her wound recovery rate was evidence enough.

"Go ahead, Vinyl. I... I'll be along shortly." Her stomach grumbled again.

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "You sure, Octy? You're the one who needs sleep." She yawned. Torpor was calling, or to be more specific, her custom plush coffin. Buckboard wood was for chumps.

"I am sure." She smiled. "Oh... and Vinyl... do you really think we're going back?"

"Yeah. And we're gonna do it right. Especially after all the dreck ARGUS has slung our way. We're gonna roll in and push 'em out block by block." Vinyl smiled. "It's gonna be great."

"If you say so." The grey mare looked over her shoulder at the Spire once more. "ARGUS has certainly put enough names on that obelisk." She glanced back at her friend. "Oh, and Vinyl..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

That day, the corpse slept with a smile.

Author's Notes:

This chapter is slower than earlier ones. I wanted to show off the Organization a little, and give readers an idea of the scope of their daily operations. Also, this neatly caps off the first arc, showing the two main characters' origins, along with how they joined the Organization. Bon Hadescream is a story that I dare to experiment with, and I hope you have enjoyed it so far!

I now wish to open this story up to audience input. I have several drafts penned for the next chapter, but I would like to hear from you readers which idea sounds most interesting. I have:

A. "No operative left behind, no soul unavenged." Vinyl and Octavia are shuffled about between Bon Hadescream protected cities, in an effort to stop a curious rise of vampiric activity. Along the way, they just might run afoul of the Knights Errant, or perhaps even the fabled Unforgiven.

B. "The simple joy." Nopony has Savior of Equestria for a cutie mark. Bon Bon accepted her duty as Lady Bon Hadescream when she was only a child, but she has never given up her love of candymaking. This is just a short chapter of Octavia helping her make up a batch of delicious sweets before the cream-colored mare has to strap on her plasma pistol once more. I thought it was cute.

C. "I am the one you warned me of." Nopony but Celestia cares about the homeless ponies of Rat's Falls, and they know she'll never hear their cries. The city was drilled into a mountain centuries ago, but now the gemstones that drew so many to the boom town have been mined out. All that remains are ghosts, paupers, and self-styled kings. Nopony will notice if the weak start disappearing, or if strange lights flicker from abandoned mines in the middle of the night. Even if they did, who would dare to look?

All of these are within the context of the larger narrative I want to tell with Bon Hadescream, and I'd love to hear your input! A and C are larger multi-chapter adventures, while B is a self contained short snippet. As always, thanks for reading!