Canterlot Elementary School was decorated for the annual carnival. It was a traditional event held every year shortly before summer vacation, and a favorite of students. Games, refreshments, and activities had been organized to give the students a nice break before they began cramming for finals.

A corner table had been decorated in tacky magician style. The lavender earth pony standing behind it wore a pointed hat and a playful smile. A glass ball was held between her front hooves, and she skillfully manipulated it to almost appear that the sphere was floating, although it never left her touch. A small crowd had gathered to watch in amazement.

“Wow, Ms. Cheerilee, you’re amazing at that!” gushed a young foal.

The mare winked one of her large green eyes at him. “Contact juggling is easy to learn, but difficult to master. I have a lot of practice.”

“It’s like you’re good at everything,” commented a slightly older pony, who had seen Cheerilee perform at other carnivals.

The schoolteacher still wore that same charming smile as the ball danced between her hooves. Her look was kind and modest, without showing any teeth. “Well, if being good at everything is what I have to do to keep you all from sleeping in class...”

The crowd chuckled with her. Sensing an opportune moment to show off, Cheerilee brushed back a loose strand of her pink-striped mane. The glass ball hung from her other hoof, hovering there as if still supported from below. It was a subtle trick, one that took the spectators a moment to catch, but as always it was a sure crowd pleaser.

They all gasped in surprise and applauded. Cheerilee took a bow and set the ball down. The entire performance paralleled her personality; subtle, intriguing, and definitely more than met the eye.

She smiled for the camcorder one of the parents was holding before turning to a young fan. The young colt excitedly asked, “Ms. Cheerilee, how did you do that last trick?”

A unicorn might have been able to pull off a similar show, but would have displayed telltale magic. Earth ponies possesed a little more natural dexterity, but easily hanging on to heavy glass objects should have been impossible.

Cheerilee smiled. “The same way you can get good at anything: practice.”

If only the colt knew how much practice. Cheerilee had stopped counting her birthdays because the number had gotten depressingly high; she had taught her first class more than a century and a half ago. That was a lot of time to practice many things.

One thing she had gotten very good at was concealing what lay beneath the cheerful facade she wore. Nopony knew that their favorite schoolteacher was a vampire.

Lots of practice had made Cheerilee very good at her job-both of her jobs, actually. In addition to teaching, she worked for Princess Luna, taking care of unpleasant things behind the scenes. The Princess of the Night had accepted the task of dealing with what lurked in the shadows. Over the years, Cheerilee had been her number one implement. Occasionally, a supernaturally enhanced mare was the only pony for the job.

Cheerilee had faced a lot in her time, including other vampires. Her skill had become fine tuned, and her competency had steadily grown. Unnatural talents had manifested themselves, adding to her dexterity, ability, and lethality. Now, more than a century after being turned, she was less pony and more force of nature.

All of that was kept carefully contained under the modest exterior of a young schoolteacher. Cheerilee had managed to keep her monstrous side in check, although it required constant vigilance.

She started off on a round of the school to check how the rest of the carnival was going. Young ponies and their parents were everywhere. Cameras and cell phones were everywhere, recording the carnival; such technology hadn’t existed until only a decade or so ago. Cheerilee smiled a little to herself, thinking about how much change she had observed.

She was nearly back to her table when there was a sudden earth-shaking blast from the other end of the building. Screams and crashing rubble filled the air. Cheerilee dashed towards the source of the disturbance, using the smoke-filled hallways to conceal her speed. One wall of the gymnasium had been completely demolished, its broken fragments scattered everywhere.

And then there were the bodies. Ponies who had been inside the gym at the time had been caught in the explosion, few escaping with their lives.

Death was nothing new to Cheerilee. She had caused plenty herself. The inside of a school was the last place she expected to encounter it, however.

There was nothing to be done for the dead, and Cheerilee’s focus shifted to the gaping hole in the wall. Ducking through it, she found herself on a narrow back street. There were a few scattered pieces of debris; an automobile, perhaps.

A car bomb? Cheerilee wondered. It wasn’t very long ago that such an idea would have been considered ridiculous. Of course, it wasn’t very long ago that Equestria was a nation at peace.

You know, sometimes being an immortal mare is cool. I mean, never having to eat is nice, and it saves me a ton of money, and not breathing is convenient in certain situations. Then again, being immortal because you’re a vampire complicates matters a bit. I know what you’re thinking- but I promise, it’s not true. I, Golden Ring, do not drink the blood of ponies, only the blood of wild animals. Honest, I do. When you can move fast enough that pony eyes have a hard time following you, it’s not that hard to take down big predators like manticores.

But I digress; like I was saying, being immortal isn’t all bad. It’s just bad most of the time. I know that sounds kind of bleak, but when you’ve lived for about a century, you learn to appreciate the little things. It can make the big things seem less daunting.

Speaking of big things, one of the most depressing turns of events in recent years is the rise of terror. Or, more specifically, terrorism. You know, the act of causing deliberate harm and fright to others in society to get them to do what you want? In this case, the mules behind the attacks (no offense to any mules reading this) are trying to have the Princesses overthrown; yeah, bizarre, right? This group, the Hegemony of Organized Friends (HOOF, for short), claims that they represent ‘the new world order’ and ‘freedom from tyranny’, and then turn around and attack innocent civilians. It’s absurd!

HOOF is mostly ponies, but buffalo and zebra do make up a significant portion of their membership. The fact that they have international connections only spreads the reach of their nasty hooves farther.

I’m sorry. I have a particular grievance against the kinds of creatures who claim the moral high ground while they are mercilessly murdering and maiming their neighbors. Normally I’m a really sweet mare, not at all bitter like I probably sound right now. No, really, I am. Sometimes, I just have a hard time staying positive. You would too, if you’d been rudely interrupted from your nap by the sound of an explosion from down the street.

Now that I’d been woken from my slumber- well, whatever passes for sleep for a vampire, anyway- I trotted over to my apartment window and glanced out at the road below, scanning for the source of the explosion. I sighed when I couldn’t spot anything in the immediate vicinity. Hopefully nopony had died in this latest bombing. Pony death has never been something that I’ve been entirely comfortable with.

I left the broad window for my apartment door, casting a brief glance around my sparsely-decorated home. My eyes lit up when they alighted on the object of my search, an old, raggedy, medium-blue scarf emboldened with gold trim. It had been a gift from my teacher, Ms. Cheerilee, for my 67th birthday. Sure, I didn’t really need it, being a vampire and all, but... it’s the thought that counts, and I have treasured it above all my other possessions. As foalish as it might sound, I feel safer when I have it with me.

I snagged it from its resting place with a quick flick of my wing, and wrapped it around my neck as I trotted out the door. I didn’t really need to rush, at least not to the point of using my supernatural speed, since Cheerilee usually takes care of the business end of things. Like I said, I’m still not entirely comfortable with death; however, I can hold my own in a fight, and I’ve certainly killed bad ponies before, so don’t go and label me as a bloodsucking pushover or anything.

Absently, I did a quick check on my cellphone for anything that might’ve popped up about the attack. It’s an addictive device, once you realize just how much can be done with the flick of a hoof. Unfortunately there was no news yet.

I made sure to canter quickly through the apartment complex, until I reached the lobby on the ground floor. Down here was much more lavishly decorated than my room, but at the moment I didn’t really stop to admire anything. Once I had gotten through the front double doors, I took to the skies in search of the telltale smoke that would signal the location of the bomb blast. With a grimace, I finally found it, and flew off in the direction of the attack.

It only took me a minute or two to reach the site; when I got there, I let out an involuntary gasp. I was hovering above a school building. A school building. I clenched my teeth as I drifted down towards the ground, finally alighting with only a faint clatter of hooves on concrete. I looked through the gaping hole in the sagging wall at the carnage, the horrifically damaged bodies of foals and their parents strewn about inside the gymnasium.

Fortunately, my teacher was already here.

“Cheerilee, did you notice any survivors inside?” I asked her, casting about my heightened senses even as I did. Only a few weak pulses sounded in my ears.

“Seven. Three foals, four adults. Can you take care of them?” she responded.

“Of course.”

It was how we worked; Cheerilee would take care of the hostiles we encountered, while I handled the friendlies and acted as support. Not that either of us weren’t capable of what the other was; I guess it’s just a matter of preference.

I galloped over to where the first little filly lay, her chest heaving and her right hind leg completely torn off. I could hear her heart frantically beating, systematically forcing the blood out of her ruptured arteries. I frowned- unless I could stop the bleeding, fast, this little pony wouldn’t live through the hour.

I cast my gaze about for something with which to tie a tourniquet around her mangled limb; unfortunately, any suitable materials had been shredded to pieces by the bomb. I set my face in a neutral expression and whipped my scarf from around my neck, and tied it about the filly’s gushing leg so quickly that my forelimbs were naught but a blur. As much as I love Cheerilee’s scarf, using it to save a life is worth any damage to a piece of cloth.

I set about helping the other injured ponies as well. In a stroke of good luck, the others must not have been as close to the blast, because their injuries were not nearly as lethal as the first filly’s. It was a simple matter to patch them up with the materials at hoof, especially considering that the authorities arrived midway through my ministries.

Once all the survivors were taken care of, though, I made sure to slip away without alerting any police. It wouldn’t do to have too many questions asked about me or my presence there. I ascended up and away from the blast site, searching the ground below for the familiar lilac-colored coat of my teacher. It didn’t take me long to find it- she kind of stood out amidst the gray and black of concrete and asphalt.

I made a beeline for her, only slowing down as much as I needed to to keep myself from making a scene with my abrupt landing. The two of us stood on the opposite side of the street from the bombed-out school, hidden amongst the growing crowd of bystanders that was forming around the scene.

“A school building, Cheerilee! They attacked a school!” I struggled to keep the anger from elevating my voice’s volume. While I tend to play up my youthfulness (my cover has been a high school teenager for the past several decades), that doesn’t mean I have to act like a foal all the time.

“I know, Golden. I was there when it happened.” If I didn’t know her better, she would have seemed callous to the whole thing, but having spent as much time with Cheerilee as I have, I knew that she was a master at containing her emotions. It was almost a given that she was as pissed as I was, but hey, I guess she’s just always been a bit better with control than I have. That’s why she’s my teacher. Still, there was this nagging feeling... I just don’t think it’s particularly healthy for her to keep everything bottled up like she does. Sometimes I worry about what might be going on inside her head.

“There has to be something. I- we can’t just let this go! They’ve gone too far this time.” I wanted to be objective about this, but I had to focus on making my artificial breaths long and deep to keep myself from losing it.

Cheerilee sighed deeply, finally showing some emotion. “I agree. This is crossing a line.”

She composed herself, putting on her emotionless mask again. “We need to talk to Princess Luna.”

The Night Princess had long ago accepted her role in Equestrian affairs, taking pleasure in the happiness of citizens even if they didn’t thank her directly as much as her sister Celestia. Luna had taken it upon herself to keep the ponies of Equestria safe from things they shouldn’t have to worry about- the monsters and fiends of the world. Cheerilee and I were not her only agents, but we were the sole vampires in her employ.

Even if Princess Luna wouldn’t mind if we just walked into the castle to have a chat with her, other ponies might be suspicious. Fortunately, both of us had a lot of experience with disguises, and it didn’t take long to get ready to go; all I had to do was make a quick stop at my apartment and pick up some expensive jewelry. Because, you know, being a jeweller requires one to keep enough such items on hoof.

Not ten minutes later, our expensive Marecedes rolled to a stop at the castle’s large front gate. The Royal Guard on duty shifted the assault rifle hanging from his shoulder and leaned forward to check my ID. The card was inscribed with “Le Madame Diadem,” the persona I wore for high-class occasions. I saw him surreptitiously glance at my dress and gold trinkets. I suppose I shouldn’t be offended. Jewelry and accessories are my special talent, after all.

The mare to my right presented herself as Countess de la Cheer. She was also dressed to the nines, courtesy of myself. The two of us certainly looked like we belonged at the castle.

Our false names were on file with the guards, and they let us through with no trouble. A valet took the car and we let ourselves into the inner rooms.

Princess Luna was awake early, what with the sun still lingering in the evening sky. I could tell she was distracted, no doubt by the news of the bombing. Being the fabulous mares that we are, though, our grand entrance changed her expression to a smile.

“Ah, Countess, Madame, I’m glad you could make it,” said the Princess, all the while gesturing for her personal guards to step out of the room. Once we were alone, she continued. “What do you know of the attack on the school? I want everything you have for me.”

I let Cheerilee do the explaining, since she was there for it; I only supplied details about the survivors that I had treated. Speaking of survivors, that reminded me of something.

“Princess, there is one thing- when I was treating one of the survivors, I had to use a scarf of mine for a tourniquet. It’s a potential loose end, so I think you should probably collect it before somepony starts questioning where it came from.” I gave a little sheepish grin; all three of us knew that I mostly wanted the scarf because I liked it. That doesn’t mean I can’t have perfectly valid other reasons, though.

“Indeed, we wouldn’t want anypony confusing it for something belonging to the attacker,” said Luna, her face completely straight. Kind of like with Cheerilee, if I hadn’t spent so much time with Luna, I would have been trembling at the thought of the threatening words in that sentence, instead of chuckling at the snide comment.

“All clothing articles aside,” said Cheerilee, politely interrupting, “there is still the matter of what needs to be done here.” I saw a spark of fire enter her eyes, and heard a fierceness come into her voice. “There were children and parents killed in that blast. I will not stand idly by while my students are massacred.”

“And indeed you shouldn’t,” Luna replied, and I could tell that she was also pretty frustrated, even through her calm, measured tone. “The heart of the matter is, what can we hope to do against an enemy that can hide anywhere, strike any time, and spread like cancer?”

By this time, I had receded from the conversation- I know that my teacher and my princess are wiser mares than I, and more restrained, so I usually leave the decisions to them. Of course, this meant that I was free to casually pull out my phone and skim the news sites for stories on the attack. As I was glancing through one article on the near-viral spread of terror, that was when inspiration struck.

“Hey, hey,” I said, and in my excitement I forgot that I was barging in on their discussion. I didn’t really care, though, this was just too genius. “With the internet, information is spread like wildfire, right? That’s their main method of spreading the word about their terror attacks, through social media and mass communication.” I didn’t really pause here, I just kept going, following my own logic. “What if we turned that against them?”

Both Cheerilee and Luna stared blankly at me for a moment before the Princess spoke. “Whatever do you mean?”

“What if we terrorized the terrorists? That way, we don’t have to worry about finding every single one of them- the knowledge of our counterattacks is so widely disseminated that they’ll hear about them. We make sure our ops are so scary that word will spread and nopony would want to be a terrorist anymore.”

I could practically see the gears in their heads turning, and I knew that there was nothing more I could say to convince them- they would have to think about this on their own. Hopefully I’d done a good enough job already, and they would see reason.

Cheerilee turned to Luna. “Princess, I think the idea has merit. I’d do anything to get involved.”

I could see Princess Luna evaluating my teacher, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the alicorn’s mind. I might be immortal myself, but I’m still basically a foalish filly compared to the Princesses. Whatever Luna decided, I guess I would go along with.

“Can you do this, Cheerilee?” asked Luna. She looked at me. “Can you both do this, a terror campaign of your own?”

I knew it wasn’t a question of ability. I gulped, realizing the connotations of what Luna had asked. I had never stopped to consider the process of actually carrying out an operation like this. What caused fear? Death, destruction, suffering. Only this time, it would be us doing it.

I’ll give Cheerilee credit, she at least did stop to consider it for a moment before nodding. The fiercest look of determination I had ever seen crossed her face. “I’ll take care of HOOF, Princess.”

It was a good thing my heart didn’t need to beat, or I might have died from it skipping a little. Cheerilee, the lavender earth pony who taught school, had just accepted the task to become the most terrifying thing in Equestria.