Dreams of Dread

Scarlet took to the skies, kicking up dust as she flew towards the knight. The clash of metal overtook the silent morning as Scarlet and the knight butted heads. Scarlet's scythe and the knight's sword were pressed against each other, each aimed at the other wielder's head.

Scarlet grit her teeth. "I'm getting real tired of this. What is this, the third time already? I wish you'd stop chasing after me. You're not even a proper demon slayer, are you? You just look for me day and night, going after any demon who happens to look like me. What the hell do you have against me, anyways?"

"The dead don't need to know," The knight retorted, pushing away from the girl with a swing of his sword.

"Well, then, I think I'll just put an end to this nuisance here and now." Scarlet cranked a gear on the side of the scythe, and a cartridge attached to its center fell into her hand. Placing it inside one of her belt's pockets, she took out a similar, but smaller box and fitted it on the weapon. "Smaller, copper bullets instead of my usual enchanted silver lined lead," she grinned. "It'll pack a whole lot less of a punch, but at least it won't kill you as easily."

"And why would you do something like that?" The knight questioned, his tone growing impatient. "You refuse to take my life again. Don't try to mock me, demon, like you did the last time we fought. Stop going easy on me. This will end with one of us dying, and it sure as hell isn't going to be me. Do not pity me, and fight."

"Be careful what you wish for," she muttered, as she took a shot to propel herself forwards. The recoil wasn't as heavy as before, but it was certainly enough to help propel her forwards at breakneck speeds. She used the extra momentum and power to speed through the knight's defenses, getting in one clean, strong cut.

The knight was confused. He had seen the motion of the scythe, and heard the whistle it made as it sliced through the wind, but he felt no pain. Well, whether the girl had missed her swing, or whether the shock of the blow hadn't registered to his nerves yet, he had some time left to make his move.

He swung his sword with all his might- realizing something was wrong mid-swing. As the weapon was brought in full swing in front of him, he could now see why the weapon now felt so awkward in his hands: The knight hadn't been Scarlet's target.

Instead, it had been the sword in front of him that was cut in half she was aiming for.

The useless piece of broken metal mocked him before his eyes, its reduced reach not enough to reach his sworn enemy.

Scarlet delivered a powerful kick to the knight's torso through gritted teeth, sending him staggering backwards. Not letting him react and get back up on his feet, she loosed a round of bullets into both his arms, spurts of red sprouting from the new holes in the armor. The knight dropped his sword with a clatter and hung his arms limp beside him.

Jumping behind her target, Scarlet sliced her scythe low to the ground. It made a sharp cut through the metal of the boots covering the knight's ankles, earning a scream of pain from the agonized victim. The soft steel hadn't stood a chance against the magically enhanced weaponry. Before the man could even fall, however, Scarlet continued her relentless assault. She grabbed the man by the wrist and flipped the knight over her head, slamming him down on the ground. His armor dented against the pavement, sending cracks rippling through the ground as the impact had its effect. She kicked the broken sword away and locked her forearm under the man's neck, cutting off his air supply.

Scarlet's eyes burned as she kept the man locked in submission. "Let's get one thing straight here, pal. I don't pity you in the slightest, believe me. If I wanted to, I could take you on bare handed. But no. I want to see you suffer. I don't like you. In fact, I hate you. I don't know why, but I despise you with a passion. There's something about you, see? Every time I come across you it somehow makes my blood boil. Even right now, I just wanna take you and tear you limb from limb. Trust me, I only took these bullets out to see you squirm."

"Then just do it!" the knight yelled hoarsely. He was running out of air. "You've got me beaten, why not just end my miserable existence now?" He spat out a glob of blood to the side. "So long as it ends the pain and darkness of life, I welcome death with open arms. The only reason I have not snuffed out my breath with my own hands was to find and destroy you. If I cannot do even that, then at least let me die knowing my blood stains your hands."

"Sorry, but I can't do that. I make it a point to not kill humans," replied Scarlet, waiting for the knight to fall unconscious.

"Lies…" the knight wheezed, starting to fall short of breath. "Liz …"

The name struck a nerve, as Scarlet responded violently. She pressed her arm further against the man's windpipe, eyes turning silver and teeth turning to fangs. Locking onto her target, Scarlet's gaze turned to ice. "What did you just say?"

A weak response came through the holes in the visor. "You killed… Lizbeth…"

Scarlet took her arm off the man's neck and pulled him up by his breastplate, a mad fire in her eyes. "What do you know about that? Tell me, how do you know about Liz?!" There was no response. The prolonged withdrawal of oxygen had left the knight unconscious. She tried to shake him awake, but it wasn't working. Stomping on his hands in frustration didn't help either, as not even the sickening crunch from his bones caused enough shock to wake him.

"Scarlet, stop!" Spike yelled. He'd seen her fight before, but this was no fight. This was torture. The knight was clearly out of his league, and Scarlet was being brutal. "You've done enough!"

Scarlet dropped the knight's armor to the ground with a clank, and lifted her scythe with trembling hands. "WHO ARE YOU?!" she screamed, squeezing the trigger with a sharp cough from the muzzle of the weapon. The bullet shattered at the very tip of the helmet, sending a jagged crack running down its face and back. The two sides of the broken helm fell apart, sending a small trickle of blood running down the knight's revealed visage.

Scarlet froze in place. Her vampire eyes and fangs shrank back to normal, and the girl just stood there, breathless. The sight of her stalker's face had turned her to stone, unable to move, unable to think.

Spike watched from the sidelines, getting startled by her strange behavior. "Scarlet, are you alright?" he called to her in a shaky voice.

Scarlet broke out of her daze. Spinning around and retracting the scythe, she threw the cloak over her head. "We're leaving," she stated flatly.

Spike scurried after her; she had already begun to walk away from the scene. A few faces had already poked out of the windows nearby, curious to see what had disturbed their sleep. "Scarlet, hold on! We can't just leave him here like that!"

Scarlet whipped her head around to Spike, her silver glare piercing through the veil of shadows. She spoke again icily, making clear that things were not up for debate. "We're leaving."

In the winding roads of Canterlot, Spike tried his hardest to keep up with the girl stomping ahead of him. "Scarlet, what's gotten into you? What happened back there?" Spike asked. Scarlet wasn't herself when she fought the knight. Even though it could have hardly counted as a fight, he had never seen the girl act like that before. Hatred burning in her eyes, anger seething through her cloak… There was no trace of the cheerful, bright Scarlet that Spike had met the day before. She couldn't have been herself back then. She just couldn't. Because the only alternative would be that it really was her true self, and that Spike never knew Scarlet at all.

"I'm fine," Scarlet growled back, her face still hidden by her hood.

"I, I overheard some of the things you were talking about. I didn't hear much, but… Scarlet, who is Liz?

Scarlet glared daggers at him. If looks could kill, Spike would have died five times over on the spot. "Drop it," she growled.

"I'm just worried about you, Scarlet. You're not acting like yourself," Spike replied, genuine concern written across his expression.

"And how would you know that?" Scarlet lashed out, Stopping mid-stride. "You've been with me for one day, how could you possibly know the kind of person I am?"

Spike was at a loss for words. "I'm just trying to help, Scarlet, I…"

The red cloak crumpled as Scarlet fell to her knees, cradling her head in her hands. Tears were falling to the ground as she broke down. "Every time I try to remember, it's so painful… That night. The girl, looking at me like she didn't know what was going on. The boy, calling for his sister… Calling for Liz. That was him back there, that boy, all grown up. He came after me, to find me and to kill me. But why? What did I ever do? I can't remember anything else… Aah!" Scarlet shrieked one last time, before her eyes fluttered and she fell over to the side.

"Scarlet!" Spike cried, catching the limp girl in his arms. "Oh no, she's fainted. What am I going to do?"

Then, a voice called out to him from the other end of the road. "Spike? Spike, is that you?"

Spike turned around to see a familiar face. "…Twilight?"

The summer's night breeze was warm, but Scarlet was shivering. She was wrapped in red blankets, trembling for an unknown reason. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see another child through the sheen of the window on the wall. Her black locks fell around her still body, dull eyes void of the spark of life. Scarlet wanted to reach out to her, to embrace her in a hug of reassurance, but she knew the child was dead. Even still, the eerie body petrified her in a fear like she had never felt before.

The door creaked open, and Scarlet turned her head. In the halls of the house, a young boy stood, looking at her. Terrified. No, not just that. There was more in his expression. Shock, sadness, hate. Everything that could break the poor boy's spirit and throw it into the darkness. But the strongest of them all was fear.

Why? Why did he look so afraid? What was there to be afraid of? Scarlet looked around. There was nothing else in the room, save her, the bed, and the window. Maybe that was it. Maybe the girl in the window frightened the child as much as it had to her. Scarlet reached forth a hand to comfort him, which the boy cringed back from.

Tears welled up in the boy's eyes. "Liz…" he whispered, fleeing the scene before Scarlet could see his tears falling. His footsteps were that of a desperate animal, instinctively running on nothing but primal fear. Liz? What did that mean? It was a name. Whose? Not her own, certainly. The girl in the window? But why would he-

Scarlet stopped cold, catching another detail through the dark. It must have been a mistake. No, it had to have been a mistake. Slowly, she turned her palms to the chilled glare of moonlight, letting the revealing rays shine over her hands. They were red. No. That was impossible, why were they red? They shouldn't have been red. Hands were not red. Why were her hands red?

Scarlet clutched her face in her hands, trying to cover her eyes to not see the red staining her hands. She was about to cry. Somehow, the red made her sad. It sent a pang of guilt through her heart, and drops of liquid fell from her face.

Except, they weren't tears. And they didn't come from her eyes. Scarlet looked closely at the marking on the sheets, trying to distinguish the liquid. It didn't leave much of a stain. Either the drop was clear, or… Scarlet patted gently down along her face until she reached her open mouth. Her fangs. Dripping in… red. Blood. Liz.

Realization dawned on Scarlet as she remembered the horrible truth. The unforgivable past. And the worst part was, she had forgotten. She always forgot. And then, she always remembered. Every time she fell asleep. Every time she woke up. Scarlet started to cry. When she woke up, she would forget once more. Scarlet sobbed through the night. She didn't want the dream to end. She didn't want to go. She couldn't forget again...

When Scarlet came to, she was lying in an extravagantly lush bed, the glare of the afternoon sun seeping into the room through the tinted glass wall. "Ugh…" she groaned. Sitting up too fast had given her another headache. "Where am I?"

A friendly, calm voice spoke back to her, entering the room from the door. “You’re in my hotel room. I found you collapsed over Spike in the streets this morning, and I took you two back here to rest. I’m Twilight Sparkle by the way, I came to town with Spike to take care of some things.”

Scarlet fluttered her eyes and stretched her arms high up, still half asleep. “And Spike? What happened to the kid?” she yawned.

“Spike’s still sleeping,” Twilight answered. “Apparently, he didn’t sleep all night.”

“So, what kind of business were you here for?” Scarlet asked. “It must have been pretty important, if you’re all the way in Canterlot in a suite like this,” she noted.

Twilight blushed. “Yeah, I told them just a plain room was fine, but they put me in here, instead. I was actually here to help the guards investigate a string of disappearances in the area. Sadly, I haven’t been able to find anything,” she sighed. “No magic residue, no prolonged struggle, no blood. I was their last hope for tracking down the culprits, but I let everyone down...”

Scarlet thought for a moment, before taking a bunch of pictures out of her bag, held together with a small paper clip. She threw it to Twilight. “Were these the people that disappeared, by any chance?” she asked.
Twilight gasped, incredulous shock in her voice. “Yes, they are... but how did you know about them, and why do you have their pictures?”

Scarlet smiled back brightly. “Didn’t I tell ya? I’m a sort of investigator, too. It’s what I was doing last night. Tracking and hunting down the ones responsible for this. You don’t have to worry about this anymore. It’s not official that they’ve been dealt with yet, but the disappearances should stop now.”

“You found the missing people?” Twilight asked.

“They were all dead by the time I got there. Sorry, but there was nothing I could do,” Scarlet responded sullenly.

“I’m... sorry to hear that,” Twilight responded. She decided not to press further on the matter. “What are you doing now?” she asked, as Scarlet was out of bed, hunched over something on the nightstand next to it.

"Just sending a letter to a friend," Scarlet threw back casually, scribbling a few words onto a piece of paper. She set the letter ablaze with a magical crimson flame, wisps of smoke flying out the window.

"Hey, was that transportation magic?" Twilight noticed. "It looked a lot like Spike's dragon flames. It sends letters to our friends, too."

Scarlet looked indifferent. "Really? You'll have to show me sometime."

"Sure. By the way, who was that letter for?" Twilight asked.

Scarlet's eyes were distant, void of emotion. "An old friend of mine that lives nearby. I asked her to come over to take care of things."

"What do you mean?"

There was a knock at the door. Scarlet walked up to it and said to Twilight with a melancholy stare, "It's only been a short while, but I've enjoyed meeting you, Twilight. Thanks for taking care of me back there. I won't forget you." She opened the door, letting the visitor in. "All right, do your thing."

A youthful but mature woman stepped into the room, adorned with a white robe and a gentle gaze. "I'm sorry, but you hold information that is dangerous to Equestrian society. For the sake of the country, I will have to erase from your memory the events of the previous- Twilight?" the woman cut herself off, taking a closer look at the girl in front of her.

Twilight did a double take. "Princess Celestia?"

Twilight and scarlet exchanged confused looks with Princess Celestia, then with each other, before looking back at the princess. Each of the three addressed the other two at the same time, with the same edge of cluelessness in all of their voices. "Do you two know each other?"