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Boss of Me

by ToixStory

Chapter 14: Death to All Hipsters

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Death to All Hipsters

The inside of the dome was nothing like what Sweetie Belle would have thought. She had expected some sort of horror land, plagued by visions of death and despair that she had come to associate with the idea of black magic. Instead, she found herself stepping from the dark Everfree Forest into a wide open plain that seemed to stretch in every direction forever. The sky above was blue and spotted with soft, white clouds while green grass brushed against the bottom of her stomach. A breeze whipped past her, blowing through her mane and over her coat before continuing on into eternity.

Sweetie Belle felt apprehensive when she couldn’t see any sign of Zecora’s hut. All she could see was the figure of somepony laying down, out in the middle of the field.

With a sigh, she walked out toward it, her keytar held in front of her and ready to play. She didn’t know what she was going to do about the dark magic pony, or how she was even supposed to kill him. In Ponyville, she had never even thought about killing another pony, and now they expected her to figure it out on her own. Her heartbeat rose to her throat, and she could hear each thump.

She had intended to sneak up on the pony that waited for her and slice him up before he could strike at her, but her plan was ruined when he began to stir before she could get within fifty feet. The pony stood up and shook himself off, revealing a zebra’s coat that was tainted with scars and black marks all across it. His eyes opened and locked onto Sweetie Belle.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he asked. His voice was icy cold, like a winter storm. “You’re not one of Question’s stallions, but if you’re here, you’re not one of those purer-than-thou students from the school.” He smiled. “Or are you?”

“I’m nobody,” Sweetie Belle said. “Just a pony who doesn’t like bullies.”

The zebra chuckled. “Well, nicely met, Nobody, you can call me Nameless. Though I must ask, what is a Nobody doing with an Academy instrument? Did you . . . steal it?”

“It doesn’t matter how I got it.” Sweetie Belle widened her stance. “What matters is what you did to Zecora and her hut. Where is she?”

“Oh, you mean my zebra compatriot? She’s nice and safe a few miles south of here. Don’t worr, this little land of mine has her safe . . . she’s not what matters in here.”

“Then what does?”

Nameless chuckled and paced back and forth in the grass. He towered over her like a giant. His eyes were blood red with pupils as dark as coal. “You tell me, Nobody,” he said. “Or should I say, Sweetie Belle?”

She took a step back. “How did you—”

“I was on my way to fetch you for Question when I was ambushed by that ridiculous mint green unicorn. If not for her, you would already be on your way to the Wastes.”

“Then why the pleasantries?”

Nameless smiled and threw back his head. “Let’s just say I like to play with my food, Miss Belle. Unfortunately for you, you have managed to take in far more black magic than we thought.”

“What are you talking about?” Sweetie Belle took a step back and gulped. “I’m not your food! I won’t be!”

“I’m ‘fraid that’s true, dear.” He walked toward her. “With as much dark magic as you’ve ingested, your body is . . . no longer necessary. At this point, you’re a black magic soul in a meatsuit, and the vessel is useless to us compared to what’s inside.”

“Y-You want to take my soul?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Sweetie Belle tried to hold up her keytar, or put a smirk on her face to look brave. Her mind raced to find the right music to play. The problem was, nothing came to mind. She kept stealing glances behind her, wondering if she could make it back to Octavia. Then Nameless stepped forward and Sweetie Belle screamed.

She turned and ran, desperately trying to get back to the edge of the dome. Her breath came in short, quick gasps while she ran. Her heart felt like it was pounding its way out of her chest. She had faced danger before, sure, but never something that deliberately wanted to kill her.

There was no time to think about Nameless chasing her. She reached what she thought was the dome’s edge and dove for the exit, but only fell onto yet more grass. When Sweetie Belle climbed to her feet, Nameless was standing in front of her, sneering.

“Ah, I see you’ve found out my little trick,” he said. “A pity that you won’t be able to learn how to manipulate black magic as I can, or especially Question. Your soul will be put to good use, at least.”

Nameless closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, they were pitch black, like the center of a black hole. He grinned, and a bright, sparkling blanket of magic coalesced around him, springing from the ground around his hooves. It sparked and flashed like a lighting storm, and wicked tendrils grew out of it, covered in spikes.

They scrambled for Sweetie Belle, snapping and clawing their way to her, to rip her open and grab what was inside. She screamed and fell to the ground, one hoof covering her face in a desperate attempt to ward away the tendrils from taking her.

As the vines reached for her, she closed her eyes and grit her teeth. She would not scream or beg, she was sure of that. At the least, she didn’t want her final moments to be pathetic.

However, as those moments ticked by, she began to wonder what was taking so long. Grimly, she wanted Nameless to just get on with it already. She dared to open one eye and peak out, and what she found brought a smile to her face.

Wrapping around her on all sides was a pink magic shield interlaced with spiderwebs of black magic. Nameless looked at her with a sneer, and pounded his vines on her shield, slamming against it over and over. Blow after blow crashed into the surface, creating sparks of black magic that burned the grass around her, but still the shield held.

Nameless backed up and glared at her. Sweetie Belle grinned as she watched him start to pace around her shield. Occasionally, he would swipe at it, but to no avail. To Sweetie Belle, the respite gave her a time to finally rest and gather herself.

First and foremost, she knew that had to defeat him or he would “defeat” her as soon as she let her guard down. The problem was, to her, how she would do it. The shield could only do so much, and she had never really used it to consciously attack anypony.

Her mind recalled the incident with the ponies and the bus, but Sweetie Belle still had no idea how she had even done that. Still . . . She looked at Nameless, at the eyes that stared at her like she was a nice patch of grass. It was kill or be killed with him, she knew.

Sweetie Belle swung her keytar around from her back and rested her hooves against the ivory keyes. She wondered what to play, but then the fog in her mind parted and she knew. The song that had come to her almost on a whim back at the library stood out clear in her mind. It had no part that needed a keyboard, and yet she felt the need to play anyway. It was like an itch that only playing could scratch.

She started to smile as she reared up on her hind legs to balance with the keyboard in her front hooves. The shield grew progressively darker with black magic, as did her own hooves, but Sweetie Belle didn’t pay it any mind. All the anger, regret, and resentment over the past few days washed away from her and into the pony outside. He was evil. He was hurting her. It was him who would die, not her.

In the back of her mind, a small voice told Sweetie Belle that something might not be right with her, but she pushed it down. It was do or die.

Nameless seemed to be aware that something was happening, as he began to gather black magic around himself into a ball. Sweetie Belle didn’t let him get that far. Thick lines of black magic snaked up her body and encircled her head as the shield exploded outward, throwing Nameless to the ground a dozen feet away.

Sweetie Belle smiled and walked out to him. She flexed one of her hooves and grinned, feeling the power coursing through herself. The black magic was like both ice and fire in her veins, creating an odd symbiosis of power inside of her. With that in mind, before Nameless could get back up, she began to play.*

Somehow, pressing keys on her keyboard caused the sound of a guitar and drums to come out, but she pushed the question of how that was possible away. The important thing was the tendrils of black magic—tinged with pink—gathered around her.

The faster we’re falling,

We’re stopping and stalling.

We’re running in circles again!

Her legs flexed and Sweetie Belle propelled herself through the air toward Nameless. His eyes widened as spiked tendrils reached out for him, for his throat and his heart. It wasn’t until the last second that he sidestepped and Sweetie Belle flew past him, hit the ground, and spun around to face him.

Just as things were looking up,

You said I wasn’t good enough.

But still we’re trying one more time!

The words felt like lightning flashing off her tongue, and Sweetie Belle yelled as she leaped at Nameless again and again. He sidestepped her every time, like he was mocking her. Sweetie Belle yelled louder as she screamed out the chorus, the tendrils flaring in rage.

Cause I’m in too deep, and I’m trying to keep,

Up above in my head, instead of going under!

Cause I’m in too deep, and I’m trying to keep,

Up above in my head, instead of going under!

Instead of going under!!

One of her blows finally connected with Nameless, and Sweetie Belle grinned. She threw her full weight at him, pummeling him over and over with her black magic tendrils, trying to rip him apart.

Instead, however, Nameless only laughed as the music died. He looked up at her, completely unharmed. “What? Did you think using black magic against a black magic user would hurt me?” he asked, standing up. “You see . . . for us to hurt ponies like you, we have to dip into normal magic enhanced by our . . . gifts. Using it in its pure form against each other is useless.”

He gave her a cruel grin. “My turn.”

One of the zebra’s hooves extended, and Sweetie Belle felt like she a house had punched her in the chest. She flew up in the air and landed hard on the ground, which suddenly didn’t feel so much like soft grass.

Nameless took his time walking over to her, his magic congealing into cylinders as hard as concrete that pummeled Sweetie Belle over and over. Her nose gushed blood, and one eye started to swell shut.

She curled into a ball around her keytar and tried to will the magic back again, but it was useless. Any time she managed to get the black magic up, his attacks pierced right through it. Her shield wouldn’t respond when she called it, leaving her bare to his attacks.

I’m going to die, she thought with a sudden feeling of certainty.

Her body felt broken. His attacks lashed her stomach, raking long lines in the skin beneath her coat, drawing blood. She wailed when the tip of one of her ears was sliced off, though little blood spouted from it. Her horn sputtered pitifully in protest, and she was afraid it would be cracked off next.

Then, like a dying wind, his blows stopped. Sweetie Belle feared looking up, for she was sure it would only invite more of his wrath. He had mastery over her at this point anyway, so she was choosing the path of least resistance to that point.

Curiosity got the better of her, however, and she stared up at the false sky as Nameless did. Nothing. Bitterly, she sighed and thought that the stallion was only playing with her, goading her into some sort of game. His eyes must have seen something she couldn’t, because he broke into a run a few moments after. He sprinted out across the grass from her, his task of taking her soul seemingly forgotten.

It didn’t take long to figure out why. The top of the black magic dome opened to let another of the CMMA’s buses through. It was covered in black magic tendrils and steered itself through the air, directly toward Nameless.

He tried to run, but the bus was falling too fast. The ground shook and heaved from an explosion of corrupt magic where the two objects had collided. All that was left in their wake was smoke and remains of the bus.

Sweetie Belle tried to stand up, but her legs betrayed her and she flopped on the ground. She couldn’t stand, but she could smile. She cheered the wreckage wordlessly and prayed that it was the end of Nameless. Her blood ran hot in her veins and her heart swelled with joy and relief. She was safe.

The top of the black dome parted again, and three more objects fell. Two of them clung to the first as they descended. Sweetie Belle was able to make out the figures of Pipsqueak, Diamond Tiara, and, to her surprise, Rumble as they flew to her, covered in a field of magic.

Diamond Tiara was letting out a high-pitched wail even as they touched down on the grass, her face buried in Rumble’s neck. The look on Rumble’s face was enough to let Sweetie Belle know how long she had been screaming.

When they noticed her, the trio galloped to her, the grass parting before them in their rush. Sweetie Belle lay back and let out a groan. She saw the faces of all three approach her out of the corner of her eye. To her, they seemed like gods looking down on high to her. She hadn’t been very pious, she had to admit.

“Look what he did to her,” said Pipsqueak to Diamond Tiara. “That . . . that thing ripped her apart!”

“Is she alright?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“How am I supposed to know?”

It was only Rumble, hard-faced and grim as a gargoyle, who waited to speak. He leaned down to Sweetie Belle and traced a hoof across her stomach, where a black magic spiral had taken root.

“The magic’s taken a hold on her,” he said. “If we don’t do something soon, she’ll be as far gone as that zebra.”

Pipsqueak turned to Rumble. “What do we do?”

“First, we need to get her out of here, then we can—”

Shrapnel from bus spiraled through the air and embedded itself ten feet from Diamond Tiara, who dove behind Pipsqueak. Another concussive boom came from the remains of the vehicle, followed by what sounded like a clap of thunder.

Sweetie Belle sat up to peer across the field while Rumble and the rest took up a defensive stance around her. For the first time since meeting them, she saw their instruments on their backs, though Diamond Tiara’s was only two drumsticks.

A howl echoed across the field, followed by the black form of the zebra sprinting toward them. His hooves clawed the grass and unearthly screams spewed from his mouth. He no longer so much resembled a zebra as a cruel mockery of one, baked out of unholy clay. Where the flesh ended and the magic began it was impossible to tell, only that Nameless was approaching the group, and fast.

Diamond Tiara spun and knelt beside Sweetie Belle. “You have to get up!” she pleaded, tugging at Sweetie Belle’s shoulder. “Rumble said you’re the only pony who can kill him! C’mon, just get up . . .”

The corrupted Nameless was almost upon them, so Rumble pulled her back into line. “Alright, just follow my lead,” he said. “For now, the black magic keeps us playing in sync. Just try not to think about it, and you can play whatever I can.”

“How does that even work?” Pipsqueak asked.

“It’s probably best if we don’t discuss that at the moment, you think?”

They spread into a semicircle around Sweetie Belle with Rumble at the head, Pipsqueak on his right, and Diamond Tiara on his left. Nameless continued to run toward them, his form rolling over the ground as if he were riding it.

Sweetie Belle struggled to climb to her hooves. They burned like hot coals were being shoved into them, and she bit her lip so hard it drew blood. With a cry, she fell back to the ground and lay there, panting.

Four lone, mournful notes from Pipsqueak’s guitar rang in her ears. It faded into the background and continued to play by magic alone as the colt’s strokes grew stronger, his hooves flying across the electric guitar. Rumble joined in with a bass guitar that sparkled metallic blue in the sunlight and had a neck almost as long as he was.

After a moment of hesitation, Diamond Tiara started to drum. Her drumsticks swung at open air, but hit something that flashed for a moment before disappearing. The sure sounds of a drum set followed with every stroke in the air she made, though for only but the briefest moments she appeared to be playing on thin air. *

This indecision's got me climbing up the walls,

The music washed over Sweetie Belle in a scalding wave. The notes themselves felt like white-hot pokers pressing into her. The black magic was burning, but it was trying to take Sweetie Belle with it.

I've been cheating gravity and waiting on the falls,

She had to get up. Nameless was charging the group out of the corner of her eye. In a few seconds he would be on top of them, and without her the three didn’t have a shield. Without me, they’re dead. I have to get up.

How did this come over me, I thought I was above it all?

Have to get up. Nameless was only a few feet from them. His tendrils were outstretched, knives snapping and slicing the air in a lust to tear at her friends. Have to get up, have to get up, have to get up!

Our hope's gone up in smoke, swallow your crown . . .

Have to get up!

Choke! On a kiss, I thought I'd save my breath for you,

Choke! On a kiss, I thought I'd save my breath for you!

Nameless was in the air and falling toward the group. A snarl was plastered on his face, but it twisted into a smile as he saw the fear with which the band looked up at him. He was so focused on it that he never saw Sweetie Belle. She threw herself at his midsection and plowed into him like a wrecking ball, sending them both tumbling end over end, a tangle of light and dark magic that exploded in her fury.

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm hanging on you,

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm pulling for you now!

Give me some rope I'm coming out of my head, into the clear,

When you go I come loose . . .

Sweetie Belle shot back to her hooves. The last of the black magic covering her died away with the music. Only steam rose up from her coat. Where it had been, she felt a new power, one that told her that she was going to win.

Nameless’ tendrils reached out to her. Left. Right. Duck. Her body was one fluid motion as it twisted and turned, never letting even one of his attacks touch her. She glowed pink like her shield. To Sweetie Belle, Nameless moved in slow motion, like he was attacking her underwater.

These premonitions got me crying up a storm,

Leave your condition, this position does no harm.

Choke! On a kiss, I thought I'd save my breath for you,

Choke! On a kiss, I thought I'd save my breath for you . . .

Sweetie Belle raised her keytar and batted away one of the black tendrils that sliced at her. She smiled when she realized what she had done, and shifted her stance. I’m done dodging. More attacks whipped at her, but each one felt the sting of plastic and magic from the keytar, and Nameless backed up, one hoof after the other.

“Come on, why don’t you fight me yourself?” she taunted.

The zebra roared and black magic surged out of him in one angry wave. It tossed Sweetie Belle back, but she flipped in the air and landed on her hooves.

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm hanging on you,

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm pulling for you now!

Give me some rope I'm coming out of my head, into the clear ,

When you go I come loose . . .

She sprinted at Nameless on two legs, her hooves cutting through the grass. The other two held the keytar above her head. It pulsed with energy fed to her from Pipsqueak and the rest, and the entire instrument was consumed in pink light.

Music thrummed in her ears, and all she could see before her was Nameless. He had tried to kill her. It was only right of her to return the favor.

With an angry cry, they leapt through the air toward each other, light magic and dark magic spiraling through blue sky to lash and strangle each other, to fight and die . . .

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm hanging on you,

Give me some rope I'm coming loose, I'm pulling for you now!

Give me some hope I'm coming through, I'm counting on you,

Give me some rope I'm coming out of my head, into the clear!

The keyboard glowed brighter, and surged outward. Its plastic reformed and stretched into a curved metal blade its handle elongating into a black staff. Within the blade glowed black piano keys, their cutting edges as razor sharp as a sword.

Her new scythe sliced through the air while Sweetie Belle closed her eyes and screamed, her body falling to collide with Nameless.

When you go I come . . .

Loose!

Sweetie Belle fell to the ground, rolled, and popped up on one knee. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and the scythe clattered to the ground below her. It glowed for a second, then reformed into a keytar, plain and plastic as always.

She looked behind her for Nameless. Where his body might have been, however, was a black crystal. It glowed and hovered above the ground, pulsating with dark life. Pipsqueak, Rumble, and Diamond Tiara only stared at it as their song ended, but Sweetie Belle trotted over.

It called to her like the book and crystal beneath the school had, but this time it seemed . . . softer. She could hear her friends yelling not to touch it, but they weren’t gaining her attention. It was all focused on the crystal.

Touch it.

She did, one white hoof pressing against the surface. It felt cold as ice. Nothing happened for a moment, then a sharp pain enveloped her right foreleg, and she let out a sharp cry, her breath hissing in pain. As she watched, however, the pain was only black magic moving its way down her leg and into her hoof, where it entered the crystal.

The object could only take so much, but for a few seconds it took on some of the black magic in Sweetie Belle’s body before it pulsed once and disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke.

By then, her friends had reached her, and stood around her, staring where the crystal had been.

“What happened?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“I think . . .” Sweetie Belle said, “we won.”

Next Chapter: The Infinite Sadness Estimated time remaining: 16 Minutes
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