//------------------------------// // Invasive Species // Story: The Exterminator // by HackamoreHalter //------------------------------// "This is Don Cantare. If you are listening to this, you are the resistance. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves." -Series of pirate radio broadcasts after the Fall ***** The club was rocking tonight. The DJ’s booth was on fire, literally for a few minutes when somepony got too tipsy and spilt a triple-digit proof glass onto the mood candles. Thankfully, the glass was nearly empty and the unicorn scratching the vinyl knew a thing or two about pyrotechnics gone wrong. The noise level was somewhere between blaringly loud and deafening. Ponies were packed on the dance floor like sardines, assuming the fish were placed in the tin still alive and thrashing. Strobe lights shot beams of rainbows out every direction, threatening seizures for any who stared too long. Laughter and cheer filled the air, and even the grumpiest of Gusses or most negative of Nancys were bobbing their heads to the beat. The macho stallion who stopped in front of her booth could not have stuck out more if he’d tried. She’d seen griffons with less bulk than this behemoth, who was dressed in goth blacks studded with chrome spikes. And he was wearing shades. At night. Indoors. At least the DJ had an eye disorder for an excuse. He’d pushed his way through the throng like a snowplow, and now loomed over her like a skyscraper. “Que Sera Cantare?” He spoke with a voice like an ancient, chain-smoking dragon that had gargled sand before gleefully lobotomizing itself. “Just Sera, please.” As if anypony would go by her first name. She cursed her hippie parents while smiling brightly. “Can I help you?” “Yes,” the stallion said, his eyes glowing blue from behind the glasses. The temperature dropped like a stone and a spear of frost formed over his head. Sera’s eyes grew wide as platters as a terror gripped her. Never had she felt a fear like this before, as if her life was but a candle about to be snuffed out. “You are to be terminat-” An airborne table crashed into the hulking brute, knocking him to the side just as he released his grip on the frozen projectile. The icicle buried itself into the stuffing of the booth just next to her head and she screamed. The stallion who’d just tried to kill her, she struggled with even the concept of that for a moment, stood back up and turned towards her once again. Instead, he came face-to-face with an apple-sized object that beeped merrily. A thrown table or two in a nightclub is just a party gone bad, but an explosion stopped the music for good. Screams erupted as the localized blast blew the murderous savage straight out of the brick wall, leaving a pony-shaped hole into the midnight air. The crowd began to flee in terror, streaming out the exits in a wave. Sera crouched beneath her table, hyperventilating as she peeked her head out to view the carnage. Outside, the inequine thing sat up slowly amidst the ruined wall. It turned to face her, locking on with a cold gaze, and she muffled a scream before a new stallion blocked her vision. His eyes were so intense, so expressive, and he reached out with a chipped hoof, giving Sera the most important offer she will ever hear. “Come with me if you want to live.”