The grey mare trotted along with a worried expression, while the other earth pony tried every platitude he knew on the spear carrying guards. Neither responded to his pleas. They wore ceremonial leather armor with cryptic rune etchings, but it seemed designed to protect rather little of their bodies. Victoria had never seen anything like it before, she was just a poor cellist down on her luck. Octavia knew that the armor was marked with Ecstasy cult enchantments that turned the pain of each blow received into pleasure. Somepony wearing such armor would be a dangerous enemy in close combat, since he would not care how badly he was injured until his body simply stopped responding.

"...and I was just-"

"Be silent," commanded one of the unicorns as he herded them aboard an elevator. The factory worker shut his mouth, but his eyes were still filled with a mixture of anger and fear. Octavia's stomach grumbled, and she questioned if it had been such a good idea to avoid eating any of the spaghetti. Surely the mushrooms could not have been that harmful, especially not to her modified metabolism. And years of eating on the cheap before that night in Manehattan... One of the unicorns pressed a button, and the elevator began to rise.

"W-where are you taking me?" asked the frightened cellist. She shifted the black case on her back and hugged her tail close, playing the part of a terrified mare who knew she was in over her head. After the events of this morning it was rather easier than she would have liked. Vinyl was still lurking in her metal barrel. Understandable, the vampire had just survived an entire building blowing up around her. The ghoul nibbled her lower lip and fretted about her friend. Vinyl would be in torpor for the rest of the day, but she would need sustenance when she awoke. Not even she could simply shrug off injuries that grave... right?

It does not matter. You will provide what she needs. That was what friends did for one another, right? The grey mare hugged her tail a little tighter. Your domitor needs blood. Surely, after all the kindness she has shown you, you will be able to squeeze enough to restore her. She glanced up at the guards, then back down at the elevator floor. The Lady Bon Hadescream's voice echoed through her thoughts.

"Now, Octavia, I do not expect you to understand the political structure of the Elderati," the creme-colored mare adjusted her tie and scratched on a slate with a piece of chalk. "It can be summed up in one simple word, backstabbing. That is a verb, an action word," she turned to the attentive cellist, "but they take action so slowly that one might as well reduce it to a stationary noun, treachery."

The grey mare nodded attentively, and made a note in minimalist cursive. It had been a few months since her full acceptance into the Organization, and she was pouring her all into the training they offered. Her body ached from the morning's drills, but she found the dull pain to be almost comforting. This felt like a second childhood... save that it had everything her first had lacked.

"All you need to know is they regard you as the lowest form of life in existence." She drew a little treble clef at the bottom of her slate. "To them, you are below the dirt," the Lady scribbled the word dirt above the picture of Octavia's cutie mark. "You are below the worms in the dirt," a few squiggly lines represented them. "Below the droppings of animals," she drew a small pile with a few flies buzzing above it for that one. "Below the animals who leave those droppings, below other monsters for the most part, below ordinary, everyday mortals, all of which are below those blessed by the taint of vampirism. After all, a mortal still governs herself, while to the Elderati a ghoul is a slave." She set the slate down.

A mint-colored unicorn tapped her employer on the shoulder, and levitated a glass of water. With a grateful nod, the Lady took a sip before continuing. "A ghoul is continually bound to his master by the vitae he must be fed at regular intervals. Without it, they slip back into mortality, usually much the worse for wear as their bodies use up the vampiric blood that could very well be the only thing holding them together." She took another sip. "But, it is not mere self-preservation that makes a ghoul such a useful pawn in their eyes. You have seen how fanatically such addicts fight."

Octavia nodded. Her most recent assignment had been to purge a coven of Elderati who were attempting to seize control of a city vital to Corporate interests. Her team had succeeded, but at great cost. The mayor had turned out to be a vitae-addicted ghoul, and at the worst moment possible had decided to reveal this fact by emptying a revolver at point-blank range into the operative protecting her. Octavia had heard it all through the operative's voxlink, but had her own problems to sort out at the time. The coven had decided on a preemptive strike, and had sent what seemed like a regiment of heavily armed ghouls to make an example of the Organization's troops. They had fought without discipline, but each possessed a sort of berserker resistance that made them hard to truly put down. Fortunately, the vampires had thought the Organization had sent only mortals, and were unpleasantly surprised when a certain mare in red began whistling a happy tune while reducing their fanatics to fertilizer.

"They call it love, the effect on a mortal of continued vitae-drinking," continued the Lady Bon Hadescream. "Some kind of blood-bond. The Elderati clam it is symbiotic." The creme-colored mare drew a pair of glasses from her topcoat pocket. "And indeed, it can be. If you are of strong will and keen mind, it is nothing more than a warm feeling that runs up and down your spine whenever you are doing their bidding. But I have almost a thousand years of records on these creatures, and I can assure you that they do not forge armies with warm feelings."

She set the glasses on her face and glanced down into a book her maidservant held up. "It is a corruption, like a drug that damages the mind. They use it to bend your desires to their own, to free themselves by imprisoning others. You see, they have no use for a world where everypony is able to find happiness by her own labor. Such a world has no place for their power games." A smile crossed her lips. "And the idea of that happening is almost as terrifying to them as the idea that someday the knowledge of their existence might be thrust upon the masses in such a way that it cannot be denied any longer."

"Is that a goal of the Organization?" asked the grey mare. "To force ponies to accept that vampires are real, and deny them recruits?" Octavia thought it might work, nopony would accept such a bargain if she knew the true price. Then she remembered that the promise of immortality could be quite alluring. The cellist had made peace with death, her defect had forced that... but if Vinyl had found out about her illness under different circumstances... It was easy enough to imagine what the unicorn would say. Please, Octy. You're my best friend. Please, I can't lose you.

Vinyl is not like those other vampires, the grey mare protested to herself. She is my friend. She truly would mean those words. Of course she would. But how many other ponies would wrongly think their would-be patrons could be as kind as Vinyl?

"No," replied the CEO. "We offer knowledge, we do not force it down others' throats, especially not in this case." She shook her head. "For reasons that I do not have time to detail today."

The mint unicorn coughed once, then gave her charge a reproachful look. A few seconds passed, then the Lady sighed. She glanced down into the book once more, paged backwards, then looked up at the grey mare. "A public unveiling would create unimaginable panic, and not the productive kind of panic where ponies innovate solutions to great problems or band together against a common enemy." She motioned for the unicorn to close the book. "I mean the kind where sister turns against sister out of fear that one harbors the taint of vampirism, or sympathizes with those who do. A kind of panic where anypony with a grudge could say, 'look there, a stallion who sympathizes with vampires!', and off he would go to the guillotine or gallows."

"That sounds like just what the vampires would want," Octavia shivered, wondering if that truly was the Elderati's ultimate goal. Ever since she had stepped into this shadow world, she marveled that Equestria still existed after all these centuries. It seemed that threats of world-changing scale threatened the land on a regular basis, and were only defeated through the courage of heroes. "An age of carnage and bloodshed, backed by the laughter of thirsting monsters."

"Some vampires do, yes," the businessmare agreed. "But not the Elderati, and they are the single largest organization of vampires... that we know of." She rubbed at the side of her head, forcing the muscles to unclench. "For all their evil deeds, the Elderati favor order, and despise many of the cults who seek to overthrow our society. They do not find Harmony profitable or desirable, but they know every experiment that has attempted to create a stable society tailored for their desires has ended in catastrophe. So, they amuse themselves with meddling and tinkering, all the while knowing that they must put up their toys and go to bed when the sun rises. Do you understand why?"

Octavia thought for a moment. The answer was as obvious as it was terrifying. "Without us, they would have nothing to consume, and no toys to play with." She swallowed hard, and a chill ran down her spine at the thought.

A sad smile slid across the other earth pony's face. "Precisely. So, until Celestia rises from her throne with a voice of authority and decrees that they must be exterminated, we hold the line." The grin widened. "Of course, there are vampires who wish to see Her Majesty deposed. Many are still carrying out their original purpose, to sew chaos and usurp her authority. However, for the most part the Elderati have a sizable stake in keeping Equestria as the dominant power in the world. They are reliant on us to survive, quite at odds with their original purpose." The mortal mare snickered. That was Celestia's way.

"In fact," she continued, "several centuries ago when the Bon Hadescream Organization was... unable to rise to the occasion," her eyes flashed in anger, then quickly cooled. "The Elderati put together several large military formations to counter an invading army." The Lady sat down. "Ordinarily, the Equestrian Guard would be up to the challenge, but this particular threat stank too mightily of warpfire and chaos for the paranormal societies to ignore."

"The vampires intervened?" the grey mare jotted down a reminder to ask Vinyl about this. Her mother was a vampire, at least Octavia was pretty sure she was. Maybe she had a different side of history. "On Equestria's behalf?"

"The leader of that army," smirked the Lady, "a minotaur who had expressed a heartfelt desire to vent certain carnal urges upon Her Solar Majesty, is still kept as a pet by one of the Elderati's high-ranking members. That is, if my sources are accurate." She took another sip of water. "It is a curious paradox. They despise the sun, and yet they protect Her Majesty, for they know she looks upon them with kindness. Not because of their evil deeds, you understand, but because there are a few righteous among the wicked. Also, there are the rogue vampires, like your friend."

Ever the faithful servant, the mint unicorn took her employer's empty glass. The creme-colored mare rolled her neck and rubbed at her eyes. She had not gotten much sleep the night before, but there was simply too much work to do. The leader of the Bon Hadescream Organization had promised to teach this mare such vital secrets as she needed to know, and she would keep that promise. Rest was for the honored dead. "And Her Majesty looks on those like you with kindness as well, because it is your choice to pursue good rather than evil. However, you are a rather curious development. You lack that one key weakness all ghouls seem to share."

"I do not require a vampire's vitae," Octavia confirmed. A blush crept across her cheeks. "But... I am afraid that I am eating you out of castle and company instead, My Lady."

"Hmmph." The Lady Bon Hadescream walked over to a nearby set of drawers and rummaged about. She returned with a picture in her mouth, which she set on the small stool the other earth pony was using as a writing surface. The CEO had offered her some acreage on the massive wooden heirloom she used as a desk, but Octavia felt it would be impolite to accept. What if she scratched it? Would that not be like spitting in the face of the Organization's proud history? The grey mare looked down at the photo.

"My father told me, when I was a very young filly, that it is our honor to feed the hungry." She took a deep breath, then reached out to touch her father's confident smile. The stallion held in his front legs a little girl with a pink stripe running through her blue mane. "He told me that many mistook profit for success. It is an indicator of achievement, nothing more. True profit is found in Harmony." She looked up at the grey mare. "For when a customer trusts you to give her a good value for her bit, you will earn that bit again and again." The businessmare smiled. "I know I have your loyalty, and that is worth more than you could ever eat. Believe it or not, your upkeep is usually less than the cost of cleaning up after your friend."

Octavia blushed.

"My father would also say that what we do for the least among us, we do for Her Majesty. You were in need, and my maidservant gave you a job you could accomplish. That is the best form of charity." She pushed her glasses back into place, and smiled. "That investment returned grand dividends, and so I am quite inclined to double down."

"He must have been a very wise stallion," replied Octavia with a trace of sad envy. To her mild surprise, the mint unicorn nodded enthusiastically. "I know your father would be proud of you."

The Lady blinked twice, surprised by the remark, then looked toward the massive wooden desk. It was too easy to remember her father sitting behind it, laboring tirelessly. "Would he?" she asked, a dark undertone creeping through her voice. She had been wrestling with that very thought. "Would he approve of the mare who let everything he ever worked for slip from her grasp? Would he love the girl foolish enough to be chased out of Manehattan rather than-"

A gentle touch from the unicorn silenced the earth pony. With a glow of her horn she picked up the photograph, then tapped the words scribbled at the bottom. You are the reason I smile, my Bon Bon. Look after the others at Pendulum, and I will see you soon.

Octavia glanced down at her hooves, feeling horrible for having opened her mouth.

"Thank you, Lyra," said the businessmare. "But... you know this was not what he wanted for me."

The cellist looked up, head full of questions but mouth firmly shut. Lyra rolled her eyes, then produced a featherduster and waved it menacingly at her employer.

Bon Bon took a deep breath. "I'm... not going to get out of this, am I?" Lyra shook her head. "Fine." The businessmare's eyes turned to Octavia. "The night when you became a ghoul. That was unexpected, was it not? You thought life would carry on a certain course, with performances and concerts, along with just a dash of monster hunting to make yourself feel better." Her brow furrowed. "I was much the same. I was raised all my life to be a credit to my family's name, but my father always wanted me... wanted me..." her cheeks turned as pink as the stripe in her mane. "He wanted me to live life as a normal pony. To find a nice home in a village somewhere, perhaps travel Equestria a bit, and pursue what makes me happy."

Lyra caught Octavia's eye, then pointed toward the cutie mark of wrapped sweets on their boss' flank.

"Yes, making candy is what truly makes me happy." The CEO smiled. "I... mean, it was only natural. It is in my blood to make sweets, it is even in my name. And when I was young, he asked me, what do you want to do with your life?" She loosened her tie ever so slightly. "I told him that I wanted to live in a happy little community, make delicious candy, and see the smiles on everypony's faces when they ate them. Here at the Castle... I oversee so much, but I see firsthoof so little."

"What happened?" asked the cellist, who had a sinking feeling that she already knew the answer.

"My father fell ill," Bon Bon sat down on the floor again, her back to the wooden desk. "I... was at his bedside. He was old, and full of days, but..." She bit her lip. "It was unexpected, and I have my suspicions, especially since certain other things happened that day." Backstabbing, the kind that deserved an action word. "His last words to me were," she coughed, and her voice deepened, "I want you to follow your heart, Bon Bon. Let your heart plan your way, and Harmony direct your steps. That is what I have fought for all... these... years."

The mint unicorn lowered her head. Her employer was a mare of many voices. Most ponies thought that she was simply talented. They had no idea what it cost to hold the title of Lady Bon Hadescream, what fire the Spire poured into your soul when you sat before it. There was a touch of madness in the young mare, and it would never leave.

"So I followed my heart, and my steps led me to the base of the Spire. Ever since that day, any hope of living a normal life in a small town has been a distant dream." She coughed once, and fiddled with one of the cuffs on her suit. "I belong to the Organization now, just as much as you do. While duty remains, I am not a simple candymaker. I am the Lady Bon Hadescream."

Octavia smiled. "And I am not a mere cellist, but an Asset to the Organization." So it was, so had the Organization been for almost a thousand years, and so it would be... unless Celestia willed otherwise, but what were the chances of that?

"Indeed. A very curious Asset, one who has much potential." She passed the photograph to Lyra, who trotted back to the cabinets with it. "That is the Elderati's weakness... well, it is a weakness shared by many of our enemies. They forget that Harmony often makes champions of the ones they consider beneath their notice." She steepled her front hooves. "But if we are to be champions, we must shape the world with strength. So, Miss Octavia, let us review. What do the Elderati expect of ghouls?"

"To serve their master's whims, and to protect him with their lives," the sniper replied crisply.

"Good, good," the Lady nodded, "but if I asked you to sum that up in an action, what would you say the Elderati expect of those under their sway?"

The grey mare thought for a long moment. "To obey."

Bon Bon clapped her front hooves together. "Exactly. And that is what worries me, Octavia. You are not linked to your domitor by blood, but by gratitude and spirit. This is something I would like for you to consider." Her eyes narrowed. "What command runs through your veins?"

Before she could answer, the office's door creaked open, and a gryphon stuck his head inside. In one claw he clutched a mess of scrolls, and lumps from bandaged wounds were clearly visible through his uniform. He yawned. "Bunch of comms just came in, and-" The operative blinked, then remembered protocol and quickly asked, "permission to enter?"

"Granted." The Lady stood and fixed him with a glare. "Officer Rollins, you should be in the medical bay, not processing communications."

"Actually, you should be dead," Octavia clarified, her mind not perceiving the sentiment behind that fact until after she had spoken. "I mean..."

"Well, Asset, with well-wishing like that," the gryphon shuffled in and unloaded the scrolls onto the desk, then fished a particularly important one out of the pile. "It's a wonder I made it back alive, let alone bothering to get out of bed." It had been an easier decision than one might think. Nearly all the nurses were male, at least the ones assigned to his recovery ward. The proud gryphon-warrior inside him wanted to think it was because he intimidated the girls with his masculinity. The paranoid cynic had much more likely explanations.

"I only meant that you were horrifically wounded, you had five rounds in your body when I found you." The sixth had blown straight through him.

"Hades, you eat bullets like they're chocolate pellets. I figured I'd give it a try." The gryphon winced, then leaned against the desk and tried to avoid the other earth pony's gaze. "Don't look at me like that, m'lady."

"Until you decide to use the brain you were born with for something other than cryptography, I will continue to glare at you as though you repurposed it for zombie bait." Bon Bon was very good at glaring. "Your replacement organs are certainly not fully integrated yet, you need to rest. You've been stitched up enough to know the routine."

He waved the important scroll under her nose. "Yes, my lady."

She bit the scroll out of his claw, set it on the desk, and broke the seal. "I could have you thrown in the brig. You would get plenty of rest there."

"I'm just following your sterling example," he replied impishly. There were very few operatives who could get away with as much as he did. "Y'know, last year, you had a front leg blown off and were back to work within a week?"

Lyra groaned, then poked the gryphon in the side as if to say, don't remind me. He winced in pain, and the maid-in-chief raised an eyebrow as she inspected his bandaged trunk.

Octavia looked closer as well, then gasped. "Your wing! What-"

"Docs took it off," he shrugged. "Too much damage to the bone structure. The other one turned out okay, though." Rollins spread it out as proof, then wobbled from the uneven weight.

"But... you... surely they can do something..." She covered her mouth, then whispered, "you will never be able to fly again?"

"Nope." Rollins shook his head. Octavia bit her lip. Then the gryphon grinned. "Not until they slap the new one on."

"Which they will not be able to do if your body rejects the cloned grafts. You need to rest, Officer Rollins." Her cool blue eyes softened. "Please."

"Fine," he grumbled. "I'll go back to sickbay." The gryphon yawned, and rubbed one of his eyes. "Yeah... I'll..." his eyelids started to drift shut, then popped wide open. "Oh, that!"

"That?" repeated the Lady Bon Hadescream, her eyes scanning over the important scroll.

"Crypto catacomb thinks the TAPDANCE protocols are compromised for the next week. A few of the magna-tapes were in a shipment that never reached its destination." He yawned again. "Y'know, if we switched over to some of the algorithms Twirly Codewheel and a few of the others down there came up with, we could-"

"I'll consider it," Bon Bon said in a flat tone, which quite clearly implied I dearly wish we had the money for every little thing, but for now it is just as good to throw out a week's worth of cryptography tapes.

The Lieutenant nodded, and began to slouch toward the door. "Yes'm, My Lady, I'll mention... that." He shook himself, then saluted. "To them. When I see 'em."

"Go directly to sickbay, Officer Rollins. Dismissed."

"Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred bits," he mumbled as he shut the door behind himself.

Bon Bon sighed, then reached for a quill and began scribbling on the important scroll. Lyra let her finish, took the piece of parchment, then turned the creme mare around and pointed her head at the earth pony sitting quietly by her stool. A blush colored the businessmare's face. "I think that's all for today, Miss Octavia. You are dismissed."

"Thank you," said the grey mare. She gathered her supplies and put the stool away. Just as her hoof touched the door, she heard the Lady Bon Hadescream speak.

"Make sure Rollins gets to the recovery bay, would you kindly? If he works himself to death trying to prove his worth, I'll have to shoot him. Again."

The grey mare shivered. You feel her need. Blood. Victoria took a deep breath, and leaned back against the elevator wall. More than you can offer from your own veins. She had done it before, given Vinyl the blood of others to strengthen her. It was the same as... as cooking, was it not? Preparing food for a friend?

Her eyes drifted up toward the guards. Food. No, no, that was not the right word. She looked back at the floor. Prey.

Victoria repeated, her voice firmer this time, "wh... where are you taking me?" Outwardly, she projected fear. She was afraid that her friend was not okay, that the explosion had been too much for even Vinyl's chaotic regeneration. Octavia hardly knew what she would do without the madmare. She was afraid that she really was just another ghoul, a pawn to a vampire just like all the deluded fools she had slain... and worse, that she might not even care. A small part of her was afraid that if the grumblings in her stomach went on for too much longer, she might develop a taste for flesh as well. Those were the true sources of the fear in her eyes, but she knew the guards would see what they wanted to see.

Not guards, huntress, whispered a voice in her mind. Prey.

Author's Notes:

The piece for which this chapter is named actually does not have a part for cello or double-bass, but it has a great violin component. I felt this would be a good time to throw in a little more Bon Bon and Lyra, since I really do enjoy those characters too!

Bon Hadescream was never meant to be an "alternate reality" story. Naturally, as the show develops, its canon may completely invalidate any author's work, but I have constantly tried to write Bon Hadescream as an "almost possible" tale. It is about an agency shrouded in secrecy, working behind the scenes to promote liberty and harmony against terrible opponents. Of course such things have no place in a children's show, but it is my hope that it requires very little suspension of disbelief to imagine such things happening behind the scenes.

To that end, this chapter is meant to underscore why these events are taking place before Nightmare Moon's return. In fact, I've tried to imply that it is all happening perhaps less than ten years from the start of Season One! Originally, this was to make the Hellsing crossover possible, but now I'm trying to make the most of the setting. I wanted to show off what Bon Bon, Lyra, and Octavia would like to be doing with their lives, if by some great twist of fate the Organization was honorably disbanded. Octavia truly wishes to perform and give her gift of music to others. Bon Bon just wants to be a small-town candymaker even though she has a touch of Spire-madness in her mind, and Lyra... well, Lyra is Lyra. Enigmatic, excitable, and ever-loyal to her friend.

This chapter also deals with how Octavia looks at the world, and how she views her identity in relation to Vinyl. I tried very hard to work in that whisper of the blood-bond without making it too obtrusive. The idea is that she is hardwired to be very loyal to the vampire, but is seeking to rationalize that loyalty rather than blindly follow it.

Did you enjoy this chapter? Why? Let me know, and it might just help me improve future offerings!

Next chapter, we'll meet the leader of this little cult. It will not go well for Octavia.