Die, Brony, Die

by Paul Neuhaus

  The waiter’s eyes grew wide and he hissed at me, sending droplets of blood in a wide arc in front of him. Then, a gray cloud poured out of the guy’s ears and he fell forward. Fortunately for him, I’d scared the Kraken enough, he’d hightailed it out of his host body without killing it. Meanwhile, the patrons of the coffee bar did one of two things. They either rushed forward to help the fallen waiter or they stampeded out of the eatery like theater-goers after someone had yelled, “Fire!” I tracked the Kraken as he shot into the rafters. I had to hand it to him: he was fast as hell. As I ran in the direction I’d seen him go, I looked over my shoulder. “Stay in a tight group! Only move if you have to! Scream if you see him again!” I then addressed Hope. “Do you got him?”

  “I got him! Turn right at the bridge.”

  I cut right at the bridge—one of the walkways to the other side of the atrium. As I ran, I looked up. Sure enough, there was an oily gray cloud moving through the shadows. “Can we get him contained anywhere? Somewhere we can back him against a wall and trap him?”

  Hope went silent for a moment. She must’ve been scanning the Convention Center for nooks and crannies. “I dunno, Dora. There’s a lot of wide-open spaces in here.”

  “Okay, we’ll need—” I was cut off by the sudden appearance of three men dressed as fluffy clouds—part of the brony lore, I assume. Two of them were overweight types, while the guy in the middle was older and shorter. They came up on me fast, and I’d been looking at the rafters until the absolute last second, so I had to hit the deck and slide. The tile floor was very slippery, and I picked up a ton of speed. As I held Hope over my chest, I slammed into the old guy’s feet and sent him tumbling. When I was on the other side, I used my free hand to stop myself and I looked back over my shoulder. The two heavy guys were helping their aged companion to his feet. When he was standing again, the trio turned to me, and all of them were angry.

  “Oh, shit!” Hope said, echoing my own alarm.

  Two things happened then in rapid succession that undoubtedly saved my hide.

  The first thing was the Kraken shooting down out of the overhead shadows and entering into the heavy guy on the old man’s right. As soon as he was inside, he picked up the old man and, I kid you not, threw him at the other husky cloud guy. The left-hand cloud man and the aged one flew into a stand of potted plants. Soil and broken crockery went everywhere. Then, the possessed cloud man looked at me and raised his fist. My hand went instinctively to the stopper on top of the pithos. I knew even as I grabbed it, I wouldn’t be fast enough. Husky cloud man was charging me like a rhino.

  That’s when the second thing happened.

  The second thing was a bunch of cops to the right of the potted plants seeing the possessed cloud man throw the old guy and charge. This caused more than one of them to shout, “Stop!” and open fire on the possessed fat guy. The possessed fat was rocked by bullets, all of them aimed at his lower extremities. Funny thing was, though, he smiled at me as his host body stumbled and fell. Before it hit the ground, the oily black smoke came out of his ears, nose and mouth and drifted toward the ceiling again.

  I would’ve been up and back on the trail had not some of the police run to me and helped me to my feet. As they asked after my welfare and tried to make out what’d happened, the Kraken floated away. Finally, I said, “I’ll give you my statement later!” and ran off. This was, apparently, the last thing they expected since they were too surprised to follow. As I shot by, I saw the rest of the cops helping the old man and the other husky cloud man out of the stand of potted plants. Hope focused my attention where it needed to go. “The Kraken’s headed for the other bridge. He’s running us in circles. Trying to wear us out.”

  I know I’ve said it a million times, but, in my fifteen years of forced seclusion, I’d let myself go. I was still in better-than-average shape, but I had a roll around my middle and severely decreased endurance. As we turned onto the walkway between atrium sides, I was clutching my side and panting. The second time I slammed into someone it was not because I wasn’t looking in the right place. It was because of my pulsing tunnel vision.

  The second person I bumped into was not old. Also, I was not sliding along the ground, so I did not knock him off his feet. In fact, he knocked me off of my feet and I landed on my ass. Here’s the weird part: he was my tail. The guy from Westwood with the BMW 3. He was sturdy as hell. He wasn’t as huge as the two goons I’d left behind me, but he was in better shape. Right off, he extended a hand to help me up. “Here, let me—”

  I didn’t hear anything else he said after that. Behind him, I saw the Kraken descend out of the rafters again. This time he shot into the cosplaying Corgi I’d seen earlier. The little dog looked up and barked like he’d just been goosed. Then his eyes glowed red and he yanked himself away from his owner with much more strength than a normal lapdog would have had. I sprang to my feet and followed after.

  I guess I should mention that, between the gunshots and my weird running around, the bronies were in a panic. Unicorns and Pegasuses were shooting this way and that. Most of them were screaming. Here and there, a helpless cop did what he could to defuse the situation (which wasn’t much). Then there was me, bobbing and weaving through the panicked crowd. At one point, I shouted, “Stop that Corgi! Tackle that Corgi!” which might be the strangest phrase I’ve ever uttered.

  Finally, there was a break in the chaos and I could see the little pooch (who, don’t forget, was dressed as a multi-colored horse). He was running full speed toward the little group I’d left behind. In mid-stride, the Kraken left the dog’s body and shot toward my friends. The Corgi, free of its invader, ran back the way it’d come with its tail between its legs.

  The Kraken made itself a missile and its target surprised me. Its target was Tiresias. Specifically, Tiresias’ bleeding forearm. It latched its cloudy self onto the old oracle’s appendage and its color changed from gray to red. Ty screamed and the others looked at him, goggle-eyed. “Get it off of him!” I shouted. “Get it off of him!”

  You may wonder what I meant when I said, “Get it off of him”. After all, we’re talking about an incorporeal creature. The thing was, though, as it sucked on Ty, it became more corporeal. Ty was a Mythnik which meant he had magic in his blood. Not as much magic as, say, Pegasus, but magic nonetheless. Within moments, the old man had what looked like a giant leech attached to him, wriggling and writhing. I gotta hand it to my friends. Once the initial shock wore off, they were all in the mix, trying to free Ty from the monster suckered to him. I slid to a stop and added my own hands to the jumble of helpers. What I should’ve done was pithos the Kraken, but I was caught up in the panic of Tiresias’ dilemma. We finally yanked the beastie off our aged friend, but that had less to do with our efforts and more to do with the fact the Kraken had drunk its fill. The leech plopped to the ground and continued to grow. It grew at an alarming rate. Little limbs popped out of its sides and its head took on more definition. It was becoming a real, live Kraken. But not a proper Kraken, more of a mini-Kraken. Like I say, Ty’s blood had the stuff, but it wasn’t as potent as the juice flowing through most other mythological creatures.

  As we all gaped at the little Kraken, Keri did something surprising. She picked up one of the knives the waiter had thrown, stepped forward, and jammed it into the Kraken’s forehead. Elijah yanked her back (like any concerned father would), but the damage was done. The mini-Kraken tried to remove the cutlery from its skull, but its arms were too sort. I could tell it wanted to hang around and get Pegasus’ location, but it had a knife in its head and it saw me finally go for the stopper on the pithos. So, it did something smart. It spun and sloshed over the railing.

  I ran to where the creature had been and looked over in time to see it land four stories below. Not only was the mini-Kraken not killed by the fall, it sat upright and ran through the lobby. As it ran, it tossed convention-goers out of its way and screamed. Not incoherent screams, but words. “Die, brony, die!” it said. (I did
n’t even know the fucker could talk.) When it reached the center of the vast open space it stopped and began digging through the marble floor. I still had my hand on the pithos’ stopper. “It’s too far away, isn’t it?” I said to Hope.

  “It’s too far away,” she confirmed. Anyway, the point was moot since our enemy had tunneled out of sight through the hole it made in the ground.

  Or was it moot? I squinted and saw something glowing on the floor near where the monster had escaped. “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

  “If you think it’s Kraken blood, then it’s what you think it is,” Hope replied. “I must be from the knife wound.”

  “Could you track him from that?”

  “Like a bloodhound. If you can get me into the sewers.”

  “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

  “Sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty.”

  “With poo.”

  “With poo, yes.”

  I turned to check on my friends. Ty looked pale thanks to his experience with the vampire Evil, but he was sure to recover. The rest of them were shell-shocked.

  M.C. Pliny the Elder put it best when he said, “Man. That was fucked-up.”

  We were stuck in the Convention Center for another couple of hours as the police confirmed there was no evidence of contagion and the mini-Kraken had gotten away. They were especially interested in me thanks to my lap around the atrium, but they couldn’t pin anything on me, so they let it go. I was anxious because I needed to get out of there and get down into the sewers.

  During the long wait, we sat on a sectional surrounded by many traumatized bronies. Occasionally, I caught glances of Beardie, but he would divert his eyes when he saw me looking. Once, when he was nearby, I pointed at him and said, “Who’s that guy? Does anybody know?”

  Everyone except Tiresias took a hard look. “Search me,” said Petey.

  “No clue,” Chad added.

  Elijah only needed a brief glance. “Sebastian Squire,” he said.

  Petey took a second look. “Oh. That’s Sebastian Squire?”

  Elijah nodded.

  “Sebastian Squire?” I said.

  “He’s a financier. Venture capitalist. He tried to convince us he represents a group of conscientious captains of industry that wanna put Pegasus in some kind of museum. So, kids can see him. And families.”

  I looked over at Beardie. “Based on your phrasing, I take it he doesn’t represent a group of conscientious captains of industry...”

  “Correct. I did some digging and discovered he represents a Saudi Prince. Guy with a napkin on his head. Wants to buy Pegasus and put him in his private zoo.”

  “Okay. Sure. I could see that.”

  “Only that was bullshit too.”

  “It was?”

  “Yeah, he wanted me to do the digging. He wanted me to find the Saudi dodge. So, I did some more digging.”

  “And?”

  “I found out he’s a Neo-Olympian. A movement to bring back the old gods. Zeus and his posse.”

  “Interesting. I hadn’t heard about that.”

  “That’s because there’s no such thing as a Neo-Olympian. That was a dodge too.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. He wanted me to find that one too. He was testing me.”

  “What’d you do then?”

  “I kept digging. I found out he’s part of a worldwide conspiracy movement. A New World Order kinda thing. It’s called ‘The Consortium’ and they want Pegasus for... God knows what.”

  “Lemme guess. That story was bullshit, too.”

  “No, turns out that one was true. He didn’t want me to uncover that layer, but I did.”

  “How do you know there isn’t at least one more layer?”

  That stopped him in his tracks. He reached up and scratched behind one of his pony ears. “Okay. Well. I hadn’t considered that. I’ll keep an open mind.”

  “What you seem to be telling me is, Pegasus somehow popped up for sale, there was a lot of competition, and Sebastian lost out. How’d you guys end up with him?”

  El brought his hand down from his head and returned it to his lap. He moved the way he always had. He spoke the way he always had. I was conflicted. On the one hand, all of it was strange and new. On the other, it was as familiar as an old shoe. I told myself I needed to be careful of that shoe. “We ended up with Pegasus for two reasons," Elijah said. "Number one: We knew a guy who knew a guy. Number two: Petey’s really, really rich.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “You should see his house. He’s got solid gold sinks. His driver has a driver.”

  I looked over at the music star. He was talking quietly with Ty and Chad. “How does a guy like that end up a brony?”

  Elijah’s eyes grew far away. “He has a hole in his heart. A deep well of sadness that can never be filled.”

  “That sounds serious,” I said, not sure if he was pulling my leg.

  “Oh, it is. It is.”

  We grew quiet for a while. He broke the silence again. “Do you realize we just had a whole, extended conversation and it wasn’t weird. I thought it would be weird, but it wasn’t weird.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t weird because we weren’t talking about us. We were talking about the situation. If we’d been talking about us, I guarantee it would’ve been weird.”

  “I guess you’re right.” He grew silent again, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry I knocked Addie up. I may’ve told you that before.”

  “You did.”

  “I don’t even remember it. They tell me I was drunk, but I have no recollection of the deed at all. I mean Keri’s great, but I don’t even remember the sex. With Addie.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  “I mean I have no idea whether the sex was even good. You know what I mean?”

  “I’d like you to shut up now.”

  “It’s a complete goose-egg. You could say to me, ‘Hey, remember when you knocked-up Addie?’ and I’d be like, ‘No. No, I do not.’”

  “Yes, I see.”

  “Usually, I have a memory like a steel trap. Especially when it comes to getting my freak on.”

  “Elijah, please shut your mouth.”

  More and more, the elder Wiener was reminding me of the junior. “I think that’s ‘cause I never got much sex, so the times I did get it really stands out, you know?”

  “If you’re wondering why you never got much sex, go look in a mirror.”

  My old flame smirked. “You’re referring to the pony costume. I’ll have you know there’s a whole class of chicks that get off on this particular look.”

  “Yes. They’re called ‘mental patients’.”

  “You’re just jealous.”

  “Of the mental patients? No.”

  El looked up at the glass ceiling. At the heavy downpour bouncing off the panes. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Sleeping with Addie. You know, there hasn’t been much sex since then either. In fact, I’d call her ‘avoidant’. Just sitting here, I can’t even picture her naked.”

  “I really don’t need to hear this. In fact, if you don’t stop, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

  He stopped. But, again, only for a moment. “You were, by far, the best I ever had. Sexually. I mean it’s not a deep bench, but no one else even comes close.”

  “Do you want me to yank out your tongue and eat it in front of you?”

  He nodded and was quiet for a time. “I made it weird, didn’t I?”

  “You did.”

  “Okay, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m discombobulated by seeing you again and, as much as I wanna talk to you, I don’t think I know how. There’s so much I wanna say. So much I shouldn’t say and, because of the way my brain is, I don’t know the difference. I’m gonna give myself a time-out. That’d be the best thing right now. I’ll be over there if you need me.” He got up and went over to a seat by the window.

  As soon as he was gone, Keri scoot
ed over and took his place. “You and my dad were talking.”

  “We were,” I conceded.

  “Was it awkward? Was it not awkward? Was the spark still there?”

  “It was awkward. I got no hint of a spark.”

  “I was thinking... Hear me out on this... I don’t like my mom very much. Hell, my dad doesn’t like my mom very much. What if you—on the down-low—were to suck her soul into your jug thingy and slide into her slot.”

  I sighed and rubbed my temples. “You want me to murder your mom and take her place?”

  “It’s not really murder, right? Her ghost goes into the jug and stays there for all eternity. That’s not murder.”

  I sighed. “What makes you think I’d be a better mom than your current one?”

  “Half a day’s observation. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t a high bar to clear.”

  I rubbed my temples. “As flattered as I am by your thoughtful and not at all morally ambiguous offer, I’m afraid I can’t kill your mother and take her place.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?”

  “I can’t. In order for me to suck Addie into the pithos, she’d have to be evil.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’re gonna have a problem there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Not gonna do it.”

  “Alright. You think it over. I’m gonna go check on dad.”

  “Yes. Please do.”

  As soon as she was gone, Petey slid over and took her spot on the sectional. I sighed, desperate for the craziness to stop. “You and my boy used to be an item...”