Title:           2^2*U
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/Ugp7FYNx
First Edit:      Wednesday 7th of October 2015 09:03:12 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Wednesday 7th of October 2015 09:03:12 PM CDT

>It begins with a sense of discomfort in your chest.
>Hardly noticeable a first, your unconscious mind is hardly aware of it.
>But as you dream, your breath becomes short.
>Something is weighing you down.
>A thought.
>A memory.
>Something…
>At once, your eyelids snap open.
>A sense of dread fills your entire body, enough to make your limbs twitch to alertness in an instant.
>Eyes wide, you struggle to breathe as you rasp out
"I forgot to lock the cellar."
>Quick as a flash you leap out of the bed, your sweat slicked heels sliding to find purchase on the wooden panels as you stumble towards your basement.
>Your ragged breaths quickly give way to grumbled curses as you bounce across the icy slab floor of the unfinished room.
>Jogging in place to keep your toes from freezing, you hold a flashlight up to the door connecting the cellar to the outside world.
>Sure enough, the lock is still hanging loosely where you left it when wheeling in supplies.
>The chains are slacker than they ought to be; with a decent amount of jostling they could fall off and leave you exposed.
>That’s when the real nightmare would begin.
>Taking the butt of the flashlight between your teeth, your fear-slicked fingers make a desperate bid to seal the entrance.
>As you pull the metal chain taut and line up the lock, the double doors begin to shudder and shake.
>Your arms get yanked to and fro as you bite your lip, yanking down hard on the chains in a desperate attempt to keep out the beastly terror.
>The flashlight clatters to the ground in the midst of your thrashing.
"Damnit!"
>With a primal shout, you bring your palm down hard on the lock, snapping it into place.
>Your hand rings out in pain as you fall onto your backside onto the frigid floor.
>An unnatural sound rings out, somewhere between an animal’s death squeal, a screech and a roar of hateful intent.
>It sends you scampering away like a crab, eyeing the shuddering doors.
 
>The ghostly glow from your flashlight doesn't help matters as you catch sight of a single red eye on the other side of the cracked door.
>Watching.
>Always watching...
>It flits around several times before settling on you.
>The roar comes again and the doors shudder under an incredible force.
>After several agonizing minutes, there's a huff and the clattering stops.
>You bury your face into your knees and try to shake off the terror that's knotted itself in your gut.
"You about McFucked up your life that time, Anon."
>But not tonight.
>Tonight you’re safe.
>You hope.
>At last settling the thudding of your heart, you stumble over to grab your flashlight.
>While your trip down to the basement was fueled by adrenaline, the trip back up makes you feel as though you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders.
>You swing your light around, doing one last check to make sure that the shutters are still sealed over all the barred windows, and that your doors are secured.
>Content that you are safe in your home for another night, you stumble back into your bed and collapse.
>As a deep ache seeps into your limbs, you stare up at the ceiling.
>The heavy thudding of wings batting the air sends an uncomfortable chill down your spine as the beast circles your home again and again.
>Every night.
>Every single night it does the same thing.
>Once or twice you’ve heard the roof creak under its weight as it paces, probing for some sign of weakness.
“One day, it’s just going to come crashing through the ceiling.  What are you going to do then, Anonymous?”
>It takes several attempts to swallow the lump in your throat, and even then you still feel as though you’re about to gag on it.
>You wish you could look out the window and see how close to daybreak it is, but the slats covering the glass on either side make it impossible to tell.
>At least you’re safe, and that thought is the only thing ringing in your mind as you’re lulled back to sleep.
 
>
>The day brings its own share of troubles.
>You go out and inspect the damages from last night’s attack.
>The monster didn't seem too eager to try and get inside after it botched the cellar route, so your windows are still secured and there don’t seem to be any points of impact on the house itself.
>Still, you huff and sigh as you look over the damage to the double doors embedded in the ground.
>The sturdy wood has splintered in several places, leaving you open for intrusion.
>These panels won't hold up for another night.
>At the rate things are going, it may just be easier to blockade the doors entirely.
>But, the cellar is where you store all of your supplies.
>Worse still, what if you needed to escape...?
>The cracking of a twig makes your hairs stand on end.
>Slowly, you turn your head, fully expecting to see the red eyed demon that's been plaguing you night after night.
>"Um, excuse me."
>You let out an exasperated sigh as you catch sight of Fluttershy.
>The sheepish yellow pony who comes to visit you every day with the most inane, ridiculous questions.
>Well, question.
>It’s pretty much the same one every day, except with a little variation.
>With a shake of your head, you hold back a chuckle as best you can and try to relax.
"Good morning, Butter Stutter."
>The pegasus pony's lips settle into a thin line for a fraction of a second before she's cowed back into her usual demure self.
>"It, it's Fluttershy."
>Giving her a tired wave, you nod.
"Right, right, ask your question and let's get this over with.  I’ve got a lot of work to do today, and no time for games."
>Bumbling Butterscotch gives a weak whimper and squeaks.
>"Oh, okay.  Um, Anonymous, are tan lines your fetish?"
>That one gives you pause.
>You press your lips together and raise an eyebrow before giving Fluttershy your full attention.
"Are you saying that ponies have tan lines?"
 
>Muttering Margarine shifts her weight from one side to the other as she glances down at the ground.
>"Maybe?"
>…All right, you really don’t have time to be messing around, but the chance is just too good to pass on.
>Grinning, you nod.
“Well, they’re not my fetish, but I certainly do like them.”
>There’s a sparkle of excitement in her eyes.
>“Do you, do you really?”
>Another nod and you turn back to your work, leaving her to mull that over.
>Biting your lower lip, you begin an internal countdown as you inspect the door hinges to see if they’re salvageable.
>Three.
>Two.
>One…
>There’s an electric buzz, like a lawn mower cutting grass followed by a squeal of surprise.
>Bingo.
>Without bothering to turn around, you wave your hand absently in her direction.
"But shaved ponies are really ugly.  You guys just don’t look right without hair.”
>There's a momentary pause before Fluttershy bursts into tears, galloping off to...
>Wherever it is upset ponies go to.
>Probably some stupid thing like Sobbing Springs or Crying Creek.
>Fucking Fluttershy.
>Still, you glance back and see a clump of cream colored hair.
>It really is the little things that make life worth living.
>Replacing the doors and other wear and tear to your home takes the entire morning and into the early hours of the afternoon.
>But the beast doesn't come out during the day, so you're safe.
>For the time being at least.
>With all that behind you, you decide to treat yourself to a drink.
>As you stroll down Main Street, you spot a line coming out of Sugar Cube Corner.
>A rainbow bolt zips from one window to the next, upset grunts and groans following close behind.
>Cupping your hands over your mouth, you call up to it.
"Hey, Rainbow!"
>The blue blur pauses, shooting a glance over her shoulder.
>The pegasus pony’s sour expression quickly brightens as she spots you and waves.
>"Hey, Anon!"
>She glances back in the windows a few more times before huffing and rushing down to meet you.
 
>Trotting in place, she shoots you a grin.
>"What's up?"
"Oh you know, the usual.  Almost got killed last night, spent the day repairing my fort, waiting for my impending doom to come crashing into my house again."
>Dash rolls her eyes and laughs.
>"Puh-leeze Anon, how many times are you going to bring that up?  If you didn't keep meat in your house, Fluttershy's bears would leave you alone, just like they do to every other pony."
>Your eyebrows arch inward as you scowl at your friend.
"It's not bears!  Bears don’t fly!"
>"Right, right."
>Rainbow gives a sigh and a dismissive wave with her hoof.
>"But let's not get into that, again.  There's big news!"
>The pegasus' bored expression quickly brightens as she looks back at the bakery.
>"Spitfire of the Wonderbolts is in Ponyville to oversee something big!"
>Wonderbolts again?
>Jeez, and she says you've got a one track mind.
>You roll your eyes and grin.
"What can those show ponies do?"
>Rainbow gapes at you as she shakes her head.
>"Are you serious?  Wonderbolts are way more than just 'show ponies'.  They keep unusual creatures out of Equestrian airspace and serve as couriers to the far corners of the kingdom!"
>With a tired sigh, you stretch your arms over your head and pop your back.
"So since Celestia can magically send any information she needs to Twilight, I'm guessing their visit has something to do with something in the skies above Ponyville?"
>Giving a brief nod, your pegasus companion smiles.
>"That's what I'm guessing, though they're being very hush-hush about the whole thing."
"So why not ask Spitfire yourself?  You're on pretty good terms with her after all."
>The wind goes out of Dash’s sails as you say that.
>She drags her hoof in the dirt and grumbles something that you don’t quite catch.
>Raising an eyebrow, you cup a hand to your ear and lean in closer.
“Pardon?”
>“I-I would, but…”
>Gritting her teeth, Rainbow glances over at the bakery again.
 
>A foal and his mother are entering, the excitable young pony bouncing around as the doors swing shut behind them.
>“It, it’s a meeting for parents and younger ponies about some temporary rules that the foals have to follow.”
>Dash’s lips twist into an uncomfortable smile as she sighs.
>“Going in there on my own?  Totally uncool.  So I’m trying to get a feel for what’s going on from the outside.”
>You cock an eyebrow and smirk.
“Not working too well?”
>Shaking her head, the pegasus pouts and falls silent.
>After a moment of thinking, you reach out and place a hand on her withers.
>With a surprised grunt, Rainbow looks up at you in confusion.
>Giving her a friendly smile, you nudge her towards the door.
“Well, it’s a good thing that we’re just two friends who happen to be passing by and in need of a milkshake to slake a powerful thirst, wouldn’t you say?”
>The moment of uncertainty is snapped by a broad smile that spreads across the pegasus’ face.
>“Yeah… good thing. Heh, heh.”
>Without waiting for you, Dash hurries through the swinging doors.
>You just shake your head and follow along after her.
>The doors creak loudly as you push them open.
>Gritting your teeth, you adopt an apologetic smile as you walk inside but none of the ponies seem to notice.
>They’re too enthralled by the winged pony in the blue flight suit as she paces on a small raised platform.
>“So it’s very important to remember that once the sun goes down, you should all be at home with your parents, understand?”
>Spitfire flashes a smile and cocks her head to the side.
>All of the foal’s heads seem to bob in time as they stare up at her.
>Kids will believe anything without question.
>A quick look over to Dash shows that she’s responding in exactly the same way.
>With a quiet laugh, you plop yourself down at the counter and order your milkshake.
>Seeing that your friend hasn’t taken her eyes off the strutting pegasus onstage, you smirk and nudge her in the side.
 
“Ground Control to Major Dash, come in Major Dash.”
>“H-huh?”
>Rainbow whips her head around, slapping you in the face with her mane.
>It doesn’t hurt, but it’s still slick with sweat and feels moist against your skin.
>As you wipe of your cheek, she gives a sheepish grin.
>“Sorry, what’s up?”
>You nod toward the stage as the latex clad pony begins speaking about the importance of following rules.
“Any idea what the hubbub is about yet?”
>“Mmm, seems like the Wonderbolts are establishing a curfew for Ponyville.  If I had to guess they probably got reports of some strange sightings in the airspace above the town.”
“You haven’t heard anything about this?”
>Grabbing your milkshake, you take a few short sips as Rainbow sighs and scoots forward on her stool.
>“Not yet.  Usually aerial sighting reports are sent up to Cloudsdale and they can dispatch a weather team to investigate.  But if there’s reason to believe that ponies are in danger, Cloudsdale can opt for an independent team of fliers to take over the situation.  If they’re sending down the Wonderbolts, it must be something big.”
>A smug sense of validation fills your heart as you take a victorious slurp of your drink.
“See?  I was right, there is a murderous beast trying to kill me.”
>Dash snorts and gives you a small grin.
>“You?  Please. You’re small time.”
>So she still doesn’t believe you.
>Still scowling at the speedy pegasus, you point in Spitfire’s general direction.
“Do you not see that Wonderbolt standing over there?  She’s here because something’s gone wrong and my house is getting attacked night after night.  Put two and two together for one second!”
>With a laugh, Rainbow shakes her head and snags a sip of your milkshake.
>“Come on, Anon; we’ve already been over this.  The worst any creature would do to you is steal your food.  I keep telling you, if you don’t leave treats out for them, they won’t bother you. I mean, this is Fluttershy’s Critter 101 here!”
 
>You open your mouth to respond, and berate her for stealing sips, when another voice cuts you short.
>“Yes, question in the back?”
>Eh?
>Just as you shake your head and prepare to tear into Dash.
>“Please don’t be shy.”
>What?
>You turn your head ever so slightly back to the crowd.
>They’re all looking at you.
>A quick glance up to the stage confirms that, yes, even Spitfire seems interested in what you have to say.
>Then you notice that you never dropped your arm and have been pointing at her this whole time.
>Fug.
>You cough and earn a short smile from the wild-maned performance pony.
>“Go ahead.  It’s very important that parents and children be aware of what they need to do to help us with our investigation.”
>Her voice has a distinct gruff quality to it, though it certainly sounds more forced than natural.
>After a few seconds of stammering, you hop to your feet and give a nervous grin.
“W-Well, I was just wondering if you can tell us anything about what it is you’re looking for here in Ponyville?”
>A small rumble of approval moves through the crowd as they all turn back towards the Wonderbolt Captain.
>Spitfire grins and nods.
>“Good question.  If you want to know, come to our town hall meeting this evening; we’ll be telling the public everything they need to know then.  Next?”
>Seriously?
>You scowl and put your hand up again, cutting off the pony who moves to speak.
“Does it have to do with a violent bloodthirsty creature that’s hunting our town at night?”
>At once the crowd bursts into worried murmurs, some ponies glancing about suspiciously while others wrap a protective hoof around their foals.
>The calm, reserved smile that Spitfire had been wearing falters ever so slightly.
>Licking her lips, she presses them together for a moment before grinning again.
 
>“I can understand that you’re eager to protect you and yours, but we do not have enough information at this time to suggest that this is anything more than an unusual migration pattern for some local flight-capable species.  Now, if you would be so kind-”
>Stomping your foot on the ground, you cause the floor of Sugar Cube Corner to shake.
>For the moment, Spitfire seems to be off balance.
>Be it because of the trembling or your general belligerence, you can’t be sure.
>But you press the opportunity.
“Well I do know.  I know because every night that thing is outside my house every night; it’s trying to get inside and kill me!  It wants me dead and you”
>There’s a slight whiff of spice in the air right before you feel a pair of hooves being pressed into your chest.
>You move to push her aside, but her eye catching orange orbs cause your will to falter.
>“Now listen up.”
>Her voice isn’t nearly as harsh as she whispers to you, her soft spoken words carrying a gentle foreign lilt that makes itself known on her long vowels.
>“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go about raising a ruckus.  The last thing I need is a bunch of panicking ponies making our job harder, got it?”
>You open your mouth, but she places her suit-wrapped hoof over top of your lips.
>“No, no, no, shh. In this situation, cooler heads will prevail; but if I hear that you’re stirring up trouble again, I will find you and take you out of the equation for the good of everypony in Ponyville.”
>While you struggle to come up with an appropriate response, Spitfire removes her hoof and pats you twice on the cheek before going back to her usual tone of voice.
>“Atta boy.”
>Giving a short nod to Rainbow Dash, the sporty speedster makes her way back to the platform and takes control of the situation.
 
>Within a few seconds the ponies are all focused on her again as she defuses the concerns of the parental ponies, and even fields a few questions about how the foals can get in touch with the Wonderbolts if they have any issues or information that might be helpful.
>With a broad smile, Spitfire wraps up her question and answer session with a short salute to the crowd.
>“And remember ponies, we’re here to make sure that you’re safe.  You are our number one priority!”
>While there isn’t any cheering or stomping, there are a few murmurs of agreement.
>On the other hand, you can’t believe these knuckleheads are buying into this crap.
“Dash, why does everyone want to believe that damn mare so bad?”
>You turn to the chromatic flier only to find that she’s mirroring Spitfire’s salute.
>After a long moment she finally notices your stare and blushes, dropping her hoof in an instant.
>So much for an unbiased answer.
>With another sigh, you lean your chin on your fist and watch as Spitfire struts out of the bakery to her next appointment leaving you with nothing but more questions.
>Why is she being so aloof and tight lipped; if the ponies are in danger, shouldn’t they know about it?
>What do they actually know?
>When can you expect a resolution to this mess?
>And how does a lean, mean, flying machine like Spitfire have so much junk jiggling around in her trunk?
>A stern nudge in the ribs from Rainbow Dash snatches you away from the beautiful bouncing badonkadonk of the retreating pegasus.
>She gives you a coy grin.
>“Caught you ‘mirin.”
>You slug your friend in the shoulder.
>Fucking Rainbow Dash.
“Whatever.  She’s just a stupid performance pony after all.”
>When the blue blur doesn’t say anything, you smirk and chalk that up as a win since she doesn’t bother to contest it.
>Reaching back for your milkshake, you grope blindly for a few seconds before turning around to look for it.
>It’s gone.
 
>There’s a quiet slurp which quickly grows in volume to your right.
>Turning back to Dash, you see the cheeky mare wiggle her eyebrows at you while sucking away on a straw.
>Your straw.
>The straw in your milkshake!
>Gritting your teeth, you begin to seethe.
“Dash…”
>Before you can make a grab for her, the thieving pony zips away, leaving only the backwash of the milkshake for you to enjoy.
>Yuck.
>You follow her with her eyes, noting that Rainbow strikes a pose as she glances back at you with a broad grin.
>“Performance pony or not, you’re too slow to keep up with her.  That’s saying something.”
>And just like that, she’s off.
>With a heavy sigh you pay for your drink and make your way back home.
>It probably would be best if you went to the meeting Spitfire was talking about, but after your little run in earlier…
>Your stomach knots in on itself a few times as you shake your head.
>No way are you going to deal with that bottom-heavy cunt, not if you can help it.
>Besides, it’s a hike back to your house from the center of town, and that’s certainly one you don’t want to be making in the dark.
>Where things can grab at you.
>Shuddering, you pick up the pace and make it home with plenty of time to spare.
>Another hour or so double and triple checking your perimeter in case you missed anything
>You didn’t
>And you lock yourself into your Fortress of Solitude for the night.
>After cooking a small meal, you make your way upstairs and collapse on the bed.
“I really hope the ceiling holds up tonight.”
>With a yawn you bring one arm up over your eyes and grope blindly for the lamp with the other.
>The quiet click sends the room into near darkness.
>You follow soon after.
>Just another day in pony paradise.
>And the start of another nightmare…
 
 
>You wake to the sound of banging.
>On instinct, you scuttle out of your bed and grope about in the dark for the wooden plank stationed in the far corner of the room.
>More than once you’ve found yourself laughing about the prospect of defending yourself against an invader you know nothing about.
>Could you even hurt it?
>But the solid piece of lumber provides you with a measure of comfort all the same.
>So, in that darkened section of the room, you crouch and wait for the inevitable.
>Again, you hear the thudding sound, but this time accompanied by another sound.
>A soft, quiet voice.
>“Hello? Anonymous?”
>It’s somewhat familiar, though you can’t place it.
>You clench your fists tighter, the wood rubbing the calluses on your hands the wrong way.
>A new trick?
>Is the monster learning?
>Another bang, no, a knock.
>It’s coming from the front door.
>After a moment of silence, there’s an irritated huff.
>And then, a second voice roars out.
>“MISTER ANONYMOUS! We know you’re in there!”
>Wow, check out the pipes on this critter!
>Wetting your lips, you take a chance and call back.
“I’m sure you do. What do you want?”
>“I’ve got business with you. I realize it’s early in the morning but if you’d just come down, I’d like to talk.”
>Morning?
>Hopping up from your corner, you slink towards the boarded up window.
>Glancing through one of the warped holes you see, yes, that’s daylight.
>You’re safe.
>Heaving a sigh of relief, you finally call back
“All right, give me a couple minutes.”
>Not enough time to shower, but that can come later.
>It’s difficult to contain your excitement as you splash water onto your face and pull on some clothes clean enough that you wouldn’t mind being seen in.
>This is the first night in ages that you’ve been able to sleep straight through.
>That means that the creature didn’t come last night.
>Did the Wonderbolts catch it?
>Maybe it got bored and went off somewhere else?
>Are you finally free?
>You can only hope to be so lucky.
 
>Giving yourself a once over before leaving the bedroom, you march downstairs and open the door.
>And by open of course you mean crack just enough in case whatever’s after you is putting you on the ruse cruise.
>In the small slit between you and the outside world, you can just make out the familiar pink mane and yellow coat of your daily disruption in the morning light.
>You consider closing the door right away, but eventually resign yourself to dealing with her yet again.
>Opening the door the rest of the way, you force a smile.
“Good morning, Fluttershy.”
>Her big green eyes glitter as she leans towards you.
>“Good morning to you too, Anonymous!”
>She opens her mouth to say more when a stern cough interrupts her train of thought.
>Furrowing her brow ever so slightly, Fluttershy casts her eyes to the side.
>“Oh, yes; I almost forgot. Anonymous, this is Captain Spitfire, of the Wonderbolts.”
“Captain…”
>You glance over at the golden mare beside her.
>Her sharp orange eyes send a chill down your spine.
>It probably really is Spitfire.
>But you look her up and down a few times anyway before responding.
“You’re awful naked for a Wonderbolt.”
>Offering up a small laugh, she smirks.
>“You’re pretty cheeky this early in the morning. But, I’m not too happy about this either.”
>The mare sighs and turns her head away, grumbling just loud enough to be heard.
>“I should have known it was you with an out of place name like Anonymous.”
>Yup, that’s Spitfire.
“So what’s going on that you needed me at this hour?”
>“Just wanted to ask you a couple questions about where you were last night.”
>Crossing your arms over your chest, you scowl at the pony.
“Is this a part of your investigation?”
>“Maybe. Feel like talking?”
“Not especially.”
>“Excuse me.”
>You both turn to Fluttershy.
 
>She scuffs her hoof against the porch and keeps her eyes downcast.
>“You seem to be really busy this morning Anonymous. I’ll come and ask you my question later.”
>As Timid Tapioca starts to walk away, you call after her.
“You know that I could save you the trouble and tell you right now?”
>“Oh no, I kind of like the suspense.”
>What suspense?
>It’s the same answer every single day!
>With a small wave, she flashes you a smile and trots off towards who knows where.
>The fat streak of hairless flesh on her flank looks hilarious by the way.
>Good call.
>Turning your full attention back to Spitfire, you lean against the doorframe.
>After a moment, she clears her throat.
>“So, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
“I didn’t know anybody in Equestria was capable of doing things ‘the hard way’.”
>“The Wonderbolts are a selective service.”
>Spitfire flashes a smile.
>“Sometimes we’re called on to do things most ponies can’t.”
>You don’t much like the sound of that.
>Sighing, you step aside and motion for her to come in.
“You mind if I start on breakfast while we talk?”
>“Go right ahead. I’m starved.”
“I meant for me.”
>“Then you better make enough for me to confiscate as ‘evidence’ if you want a meal of your own.”
>Another smile as she trots past you.
>Great, a mare with an attitude bigger than Rainbow Dash.
 >Sighing, you shut the door behind you.
>Breakfast was going to be a ham and cheese omelet, but you opt for spinach instead.
>No need to get on this mare’s bad side.
>As you’re cracking the eggs, Spitfire hoists herself into a chair and sits down.
>You work in silence for a moment or two before she begins speaking.
>“Regarding my original question: where were you last night?”
“I was here in my house just before sundown, same as last night and the one before that.”
>“And you didn’t leave the house at all?”
>Stirring the eggs into a bowl, you nod.
 
“I have a feeling that going out between nightfall and daybreak would be a bad idea.”
>“Then can anypony vouch for you that-”
>Glancing up from your bowl, you cast your eyes around the living area.
“Do you see anyone else here?”
>“No, I suppose not.”
>More silence as you move from whipping to pouring into the skillet.
>As the eggs begin to cook, you dig through your produce bin and find that there’s not only spinach, but tomatoes as well.
>Quickly dicing the juicy fruit-vegetable-whatever, you go back to the soon-to-be omelet when Spitfire speaks again.
>“So you have no way to prove that you were here all night last night.”
“Beyond my word? Not really. But I can assure you that I wouldn’t leave my house after dark.”
>“And why’s that?”
>You turn and see her with a smug smile on her snout.
>Gosh you really want to wipe it off her face.
>But you shrug and go back to food prep.
“Because if I leave, then I’d probably die, or something; I told you as much yesterday in Sugar Cube Corner, remember?”
>There’s a noncommittal grunt from the pegasus, and she allows you to finish cooking in peace.
>Bringing two plates to the table, you place one in front of her and pull out your own seat before digging in.
>Good food after a good night’s sleep is, well…
>Really, really good.
>As you gulp down your meal, Spitfire prods at hers while glancing around the lower level of your home.
>Despite your best attempts to keep things tidy, there’s a natural messiness that comes along with a lack of daylight.
>The thick boards on your windows do an excellent job of keeping that out.
>So there are bits of trash scattered about on the floor.
>If you’d been thinking, you would have cleaned up a little before inviting Spitfire in.
>She probably thinks you’re a slob.
>Well, whatever.
>You think she’s a bit of a twat, so you're even.
 
>After satisfying your initial appetite, you meet her gaze.
>“You’re pretty well fortified in here.”
“I have to be. The basement is worse; lumber, sheet metal, roofing tiles, everything that makes a house a fortress.”
>“So you really are convinced that something is out to get you?”
>You nod and she sighs.
>“I was afraid of that.”
>Leaning across the table, you watch her intently.
>As she takes a bite of her omelet.
>“Mm, that’s not bad.”
>And then a second.
>And third.
>And then it dawns on you.
“Oh, so you’re teasing me now?”
>“A little.”
>The grinning mare sits back up in her chair.
>“But one of my teams did encounter something odd last night.”
“The monster.”
>Spitfire shoots you a look and smirks.
>“That’s a little extreme; we have a very limited idea of what we’re dealing with at this point. With that in mind, we’ve decided to refer to her as Ponyville Unknown #1 or Unknown for short.”
“Her? Unknown?”
>You snort and shake your head.
“What’s all that about?”
>The golden mare puffs herself up a little and scowls.
>“You’re in Equestria, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t know how things are back wherever you come from, but most incidents around here involve creatures of a female persuasion. The Unknown is just a placeholder until we get more information about our target.”
“Right, well it sounds goofy.”
>“It’s more palatable than calling her a monster and causing a panic if the information gets leaked.”
>She does have a point there.
>You stuff another forkful of omelet in your mouth to keep from saying something stupid.
>“In any case, one of my patrols ran into the Unknown around 0138 last night as she entered into this area. They pursued her for the better part of three hours, but couldn’t make a clear identification before she disappeared into the Everfree.”
>“Because this area is outside of Ponyville proper and not as densely populated, I’m having my team go door to door and ask questions of the residents about anything that they might have seen.”
 
>Fixing you with a look, Spitfire raises an eyebrow.
>“Maybe you can help me fill in some blanks as to what Unknown was doing over here?”
>Unable to hold back a chuckle, you make a motion towards the boarded up windows.
“I’m not sure if you can tell, but I don’t see much that goes on outside my house anymore. But I will say that my monster usually starts banging around at around two in the morning, give or take.”
>“Banging?”
>You nod and get up from your seat.
“Yeah; you want anything to drink?”
>“Water’s fine.”
>Grunting, you go and get two glasses from the cupboard, continuing to talk as you fill them.
“Anyway, every morning it comes and starts testing my defenses; usually by running into them. It keeps that up for anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour before moving onto the roof. It scuffs along there for a while, and then it leaves.”
>“Unknown is a she, Anonymous.”
“I don’t rightly care, all I know is that SHE is trying to get at me.”
>Your overemphasis of the word is not lost on the Captain, though she says nothing as you hand her the glass and move back to your seat.
>“That’s all?”
“Near as I can tell. She didn’t come by last night though; I suppose I have you all to thank for that?”
>“That seems most likely. I was pretty sure before, but I’m willing to wager that your monster and my Unknown are one in the same.”
“Well that’s good news for me then; you Wonderbolts can do whatever it is that you usually do, catch the critter, and I can get back to living a normal life.”
>Spitfire’s face scrunches up as she glares at you.
>“Excuse me?”
“What?”
>“Do you really think it’s that easy? That we just swoop in, save the day, and everything’s fine?”
>The mare raises her hoof and looks like she’s about the slam it on the table.
>But she catches herself and sighs, still trembling a little as she lowers her leg.
 
>After a moment, Spitfire finds her voice again.
>“There are very real risks involved with addressing aerial threats. Misty Fly found that out herself last night.”
“I have no idea who that is.”
>“She’s a fellow Wonderbolt and a good kid. And the Unknown just knocked her right out of the sky.”
>You raise an eyebrow and frown.
“So, one of yours got close and you still have no idea what you’re dealing with?”
>“Misty’s got a brutal concussion. Her memory has been rattled about more than a foal’s plaything. So not only is the Unknown fast and flight capable, she’s also strong.”
>There’s a pause before Spitfire gives you a look.
>“And she’s fixated on you, for some reason.”
“You’re making it sound like she’s a spurned lover.”
>“I suppose I am.”
>The two of you share a short, somewhat dark laugh before finishing your respective meals.
>As you’re putting the plates away, Spitfire moves into the kitchen.
>“Anonymous?”
“What can I do for you, Captain? I’m all out of eggs.”
>“My belly’s fine, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t consider helping the Wonderbolts with our investigation.”
>You don’t miss a beat.
“No.”
>“Is that a no, you wouldn’t, or”
“It’s a plain no.”
>You can feel the Captain glaring daggers into your back before putting out a painfully forced sigh.
>“Oh, I see. I was just thinking that if we could have you present and be able to protect you, we might be able to catch Unknown sooner.”
“She only comes out at night, so I really don’t see why I can’t just stay here and let you all catch Unknown when she’s circling the house.”
>“Because she’s an animal, Anonymous.”
>You pause and glance back at Spitfire.
“What do you mean by that?”
>“I mean, there’s a possibility that she’s tracking you by scent.”
 
“I don’t follow.”
>“What I mean is, the more time you spend locked up in this house, the more likely it is that she’s going to come straight here and that puts both you and my people at risk. Leaving might throw her off for a little while and give us more time to prepare. It’s dangerous to stay indoors all the time.”
>A small sigh escapes your lips.
“That sounds really great and all, but I was a homebody long before this whole mess started. Locking myself up is the only real way that I can think to deal with the threat of an attack.”
>There’s a moment of silence before the quiet clip-clop of hooves echoes against the wooden floor as Spitfire trots up beside you.
>You resist looking down for as long as you can, but even the strongest of humans can’t resist the siren song of a cute pony.
>Despite the stern expression decorating her face, you can see a slight quiver of hopeful light behind her eyes.
>“That’s a perfectly natural response, especially considering that you’re looking to protect yourself. But I have to ask. It might be that you can help us put a stop to this before anypony else gets hurt. If my team has to fly in blind a second time…”
>The fiery maned mare gives a small huff of frustration and shakes her head, letting loose a tired laugh.
>“Look, you’re a civilian; I get it. I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do, I just thought that maybe I could keep my team safe and-”
“Okay.”
>Both of your eyes widen in surprise, and the words keep tumbling out of your mouth.
“I’ll go out with you today and we can do whatever it is that needs doing. If you think it’ll help, I’ll do it.”
>Your heart wrenches in your chest as you finish speaking.
>It’s probably on account of being terrified of getting caught out in the dark.
>But it might also be because of the bright, sunny smile that breaks across Spitfire’s face.
>“You’re a real trooper Anonymous; I won’t forget this.”
 
>Boy you sure hope not.
>Because it seems this mare and her team are the only things standing between you and the Unknown.
>Wow.
>You’re going to need to write that one down.
>After putting the dishes away, you go outside and give your fortifications a quick once over.
>Sure enough, they’re solid, apparently untouched.
>Today would be an ideal day to strengthen them, but you did promise to help.
>The Captain seems to sense your discomfort.
>“We’ll take care of the homestead.”
>Spitfire assures you with a smile before nodding to two pegasus ponies in the distance.
>They fly over and snap a quick salute to her before she begins firing off orders.
>After taking your key and opening the cellar doors, they begin their work in earnest.
>You watch them with more than a little bit of anxiety.
“I sure hope they know what they’re doing. I mean, they might be doing more harm than good.”
>“Maybe, but with the Wonderbolts in your corner, you can’t lose.”
 
>Another grin.
>This mare…
>So cocksure, she’s always somewhere between obnoxious and endearing.
>Moreso the latter, because she actually has some clout to back up her statements.
“You’re really all that then?”
>“Absolutely; there’s no better group of fliers for dealing with aerial-based threats than the Wonderbolts. Now come on, we’ve got some stops that we need to make.”
“For what?”
>“Tips that have come in since last night’s meeting; we asked if anything unusual had begun happening around town in the hopes that we’d get some leads about Unknown. You know where Sweet Apple Acres is, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
>“Then let’s go!”
>Shaking your head, you fall in step behind Spitfire.
>There are, of course, loads of questions that you want to ask, especially regarding your safety, both tonight and in the present.
>But you’re not sure how to approach them.
>After all, what do you know about the Monster.
>Unknown.
>Whatever.
>Spitfire’s obviously on top of her game, so maybe it’s best just to let her do her thing.
>Aren’t you really just here as bait?
>…More and more you’re beginning to regret agreeing to leave your house.
>You really, really hope she knows what she’s doing.