The Stranded Four

by UNITLuna004

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Sex, Gore, Diamond Tiara, Crossover, Dark, Human, Sad, Anthro, Main 6, Little Strongheart, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Cutie Mark Crusaders
Length: 10548

Gears of War/ MLP crossover. This is where four teens survive in a whole new world of magic and love. But will their way of life work in this peaceful world.

Fate has given four stranded teenagers a new purpose and chance, where they should of died in a fiery explosion. Yet are given the opportunity to start anew in a world where struggling to survive, alert of ones surrounding, trusting no one, and killing another living being, does not exist. Four teens who have only ever known the three golden rules of the Stranded.

1) Kill anything that shoots you.
2) Steal from the dead.
3) Or be dead.

Three simple,but important rules that shaped them into skilled murderers. Now must face a world, where killing and survival is a thing of the past. Where friendship and magic rule. Will they adapt to this new world or be outcast by the new world for their way of life. Only time will tell how these four stranded teens take the new world on.

"Sex is only implied!"

P.S. Other characters from the show will also be included as the story progresses.

Published 2013-09-15 06:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-03-26 19:40:26 UTC

Reloaded: Prologue

Reloaded: Prologue

Long ago, in ancient time, before the birth of the Celestial Sisters. Before the Three Tribe, the Gryphon Empire, the Dragon Hoards, the Minotaur Clans, before any known land, nation, or species we know today, existed four mysterious kingdom. They currently known, by modern archaeologists and historians, as the

The Arians: Ancient master of the sky and rulers of the heaven. Known during their time as the fastest being alive and as well as the most skill marksponies with bows.

Fotia Maatau: Guardians of the molten earth and knights of leveled-lands. Known as the master of heavy weaponry and volcanic eruptions.

Cee'la Seera Vatnarn: Keepers of the oceans and champions of patience. Known as the commanders of stealth and assassination for their ways were incoherent to all.

Falloin Stella: Cheaters of the world. Known to be hated amongst the other. Fakers and builders of alluring knowledge for they were never gifted like the other, but stole to reach the top.

These four ancient empire fought amongst each other, yet protected one another. The reason for this remains unknown. They rule the archaic world, with unbelievable might and power, until one day they disappeared. Their history gone, their architecture said to surpass any and all modern building lost and forgotten to the soil on which they stood. Their way of life forgotten, their very existence faded into myth. Nopony knows what exactly happened to these once great empires. Some say war, other say famine, more say disease, but few say it was another ancient empires that consisted of Alicorn. That wipe the others to extinction and then mysteriously vanished. Although no hard proof or evidence has been found to prove of such an empire ever existed, the same could be said to the other empires of old. If it weren't for a few small relics that have unknown origins and written documents. Though both contains little to no information on these four empire, it only adds more to the mystery of their existe-

"SWEETIE BELLE!"

Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

"SWEETIE BELLE!" Shouted a light brilliant gamboge coated pegasus, with a moderate cerise mane and tail. Wearing a light brown cargo shorts, a tan tang-top, and a pair of worn out forest green sneakers.

"Ahhhh!" Yelped a light grey unicorn, falling from her seat and dropping a book she was reading. Her mane and tail consist of two colors, a grayish mulberry for the main color with a pale light gray rose streaks running here and there. The pony in question is wearing a pale white sundress, a pair beach sandals for her hooves, and a yellow-brown sunhat. She looks over to the pony who scared her from her seat. "What do you want Scootaloo?" Groaned the fallen unicorn, annoyed that she fell and drop book on the ground.

"Dunno, just curious on what you're reading." She replied. Placing both of her hands on the back of her head.

"Scootaloo, didn't Sweetie already tell ya before we got on this here train?" Said a southern sounding pony, standing in front of her two friends. She's a light yellow earth pony, with a brilliant amaranth mane and tail. On the back of her head is a light pink bow.

"Yeah, Apple Bloom right! Didn't I already tell you Scoots." She added, reinforcing the pony call Apple Bloom.

"You did, but I'm just so bored!" Said Scootaloo.

"Then why, didn't ya bring a book o' something to read?" Questioned Apple Bloom.

"Because, book are so boring and none of them were any cool." She whined.

"Ugh, whatever." Said Apple Bloom, returning to her seat.

"So...are you going to tell me or what?" Asked the pegasus.

"Arg, fine." An annoyed Sweetie Belle got off the floor and reach out the book next to her. Straightening out her dress and grabbing the fallen book. She starts by asking, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"What's the name of the book?" She said.

"It called, The Myth of the Four Lost Empires. "

"It's a history book then?" Asked Scootaloo.

"No, it more like a mythology/fantasy/history book telling of an age-old tale of four lost empires. They're alleged to be about 500,000 years older than the earliest nomadic pony." She hand the book over to Scootaloo, who skims through the content of the book. She doesn't take long to reach the end of the book.

"It's pretty short." Handing the book back to Sweetie, Scootaloo reaches into her pocket to take out a stick of gum.

"Well...not much is really know of them." Replied Sweetie, as Scootaloo chews the stick of gum into her mouth. "They're considered more of a myth than anything."

"Why?" Questioned Scootaloo.

"Well, there isn't much information on these old empires, other then small relics and bits of information." Sweetie answered.

Giving her friend a question look, she asks, "Wait if there are artifacts and info about them, then why are they consider a myth?"

"That a good question." Sweetie puts her hand under her chin thinking of an answer. "The information seen in this book comes from other old civilization, like the Three Pony Tribes or the Minotaur Nomads. Most of it is folktale music and there's very little written material referring to them. Though all of knowledge about them indicate that the ancient civilization, at that time, believed they were gods that save the mortal realm from a terrible catastrophe. Of what nopony knows, and regarding the relics several unidentifiable artifact have been found across the world."

"Where?" Asked Scootaloo.

"Most were found by accident by random ponies."

"Couldn't some scientist or architect, I don't know, asks the the pony in question to where they found it?" Seemly stump at that.

"Scootaloo, most findings were way too long ago, so the ponies who found died already." Sweetie changes her attention from her friend to the book. "Also they did, but most said they bought off street vendors and gypsies."

"Huh." Scootaloo said as she went back to seat. Sweetie went back to her seat as well and open the book to the last she was on before her friend interrupted her. She continues to read during the remainder of the trip.

Planet: Sera
Location: Unknown forest
Destination: Three kilometers from an abandon COG installation
Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

"Chris!"

No replies.

"Chris!"

Still nothing.

"Goddamn, Chris answer!" Said an irked voice in frustration, before switching frequencies to contact the others. "Hell, even the Fagual voice is better then this silent bullshit!"

"Martin for the last time, stop calling me that." Said an annoyed voice over the Tac-Com. "It's Raul, not Fagaul, you homophobic bitch."

Ignoring the one called Raul plea/insult, Martin replies, "Finally one of you asshole answer."

"What do you need?" Entered a new voice over the Tac-Com.

"Chris," said Martin with displeasure from the ignorance he got from him, causing him to places a finger closer to the Lancer trigger. A visible vein appear on his neck as the blood flows to his head. Anger taking its rightful course in his mind, gives Martin the urge to strangle Chris with his own insides, feasting on the dying teen flesh, but sets aside the desire for the mutual benefit they share to one another. "I need a sit-rep of yours and Rachael current info on the abandon military installation."

"Dick!" Said Raul for being called Rachael.

Chris intervenes to stop the upcoming confrontation, "There are neither Locusts, Lambent Stalks, nor Stranded present at the building. From what I could tell it seems safe to enter."

"Hopefully, there's ammo for the Markza in there." Said Raul, knowing that if they didn't find ammo soon he'll be force to leave the Markza when they found another weapon.

"Hopefully your right, Raul," says Chris, "we're been low on ammo for a few weeks now."

"Or a gay porno mag for the faggot." Said Martin pushing Raul limits for shits and giggles.

"Fuck off!" Whispered angrily Raul, precautions of making sure to no one could hear them. Causes Martin to release a small hollow laugh. Taking his hand off the comm, Martin reaches for a pouch on his left hip to take out a half empty flask. Filled with crappy tasting Moonshine, Martin takes a swig of the offending alcoholic beverage. The foul taste and the burning sensation running down his dry throat, would cause any other to cough or even choke, but not Martin. He was to use to this burning sensation and foul taste. He's used to a lot of thing that hurts.

"Ahhh!" He sighs with shallow happiness. Putting the flask back into the pouch, Martin places his left hand on to the Tac-Com to relay a new set of order, but before he could a new comm opens interfering.

"Hey if there are gay porno mag for Raul, then think there maybe any magazines with some nice big titty women with well rounded asses." The another voice sounded a bit on the cheery side for that.

"Stop calling me gay, you jackasses." Responded Raul in a hushed, but fueled rage anger voice, for being call a gay for like the billionth time.

"Only, you Dave would want to find something as useless as Brumak shit." Martin retorted in disgust. Checking his Lancer to see if anything is at an amiss again, before opening a comm to complimenting Dave insult. "Also nice one, you perverted Monkey."

"Thanks! And as true as that may be, a man got his needs." Countered Dave. "Besides you can't yank one off to shit no matter how hard you try."

"That just disturbing to hear, let alone imagine." Said Raul trying his hardest to not to vomit his lunch from three weeks ago of the terrifying image.

"A-agreed." Added Chris, trying to keep himself composed over the comms, but his voice betrayed him the moment he stuttered.

Martin usually not caring when he or the others abuse the Tac-Com links, would get annoyed by their or his own bickering, but could deal with it. Hell, he would careless about their health or well-being, let alone his own. If they slowed him down or were injured, he'd most likely leave them behind to rot like the others before if it weren't for the fact they needed each other. Martin usually never intervenes unless they're doing something very important or when he finally get fed-up with it. Always being the cold hollow human he is, he'll rarely talk to the other with a voice that carries little emotions enough to catch their attentions.

"Okay enough fucking around we're losing daylight here." Martin voice cold, serious, and venomous. "Also, is just me or is anyone else feels the wind picking up speed?"

Immediately Chris responded, "Now that you mention it, I've notice the wind is blowing stronger then it was four minutes ago." Chris knowing that something bad was going about to happen to them. "The Longshot auto-adjust-windage knob is constantly adjusting to because of the increase of the wind velocity."

"Same here...just without the auto-adjust-windage knob." Sheepishly added Raul.

"So, what." Said Dave, possibly not knowing the implication of the increase of wind velocity. "A little draft never killed anyone."

"Well, maybe not a draft," Martin said, "but a hail-gale definitely has." This causes everyone to go silent on the comms for a few seconds.

...

...

...

"WHAT?"

"SHIT!"

"SERIOUSLY!"

"I know, I know." Martin said not caring for their panicking states.

"How long?" Asked Chris getting straight to the point. "How long do we have until it reaches it max?"

"From how long it took the wind to gain their current level of speed and how fast the temperature is dropping , I'll estimate about thirty or so minutes before it reaches it apex." Martin states. Looking back to abandon building, seeing how the building looked in relatively good enough to withstand the upcoming storm. "Guys rendezvous to my position."

"Roger." Said Chris.

"On my way." Said Raul.

"Where was that again?" Asked Dave.

"Where we first found the clearing with a decent view of the place we were going to ransack in a few minutes ago." Sighed Martin at his acquaintance intelligence.

"Oh yeah." Said Dave.

"Martin, you said we got thirty minutes right?" Curiously asked Chris.

"Give or take, but yeah." Replied Martin.

"Set up any earlier alert wire or something?" Asked Chris.

"Yeah, a few alert wire for you and the fag." Stated Martin.

"It better not b-"

"WILL YOU STOP CALLING ME GAY!!!" Raul in intruded, preventing Chris from finishing his sentence.

"Don't cry yourself a river," Martin inferred to Raul. "Also, no. Didn't use any of yours Chris."

"Good." Said Chris.

"Okay enough bumbling around, get your asses over here." Commanded Martin.

After a few minutes passes by, everyone eventually gather at the clearing. Raul being the first to arrive, then Chris and finally Dave.

The four faces of stranded teenagers should show young men with youthful faces and bright eyes, yet they present a different tale. Each of their faces lack the youthfulness and innocent, children at their age should have, that has long since been ripped away and replaced with something worse. Faces riddled with bullets marks, burnt skin, cuts and permanent deformities. Eyes that expresses coldness and hatred towards the world and themselves. All of them lacking the basics of humanity and existing as a former shell of themselves. Each carry a story of terror and pain, yet they looks unaffected by it all.

Martin, the most scarred, garbs a stick from the ground and begins to draw out their plan. "Okay guys, me and the Monkey are the first to head out." Looking over to Chris and Raul, "The both of you, provide sniper fire encase something come from our backs. Once we reach the building we'll look for an acceptable entrance, if there isn't an entrance, we'll make one. Got it." Then looks over to Dave.

"Got it." Repeated Dave.

"Good." Martin drops the stick heading to a nearby bush to pullout a military grade duffel bag, a badly damage and aged duffel bag, but a useful duffel bag nonetheless. Which Martin has so gracefully dubbed the Man Purse. Returning from the bush Martin takeout several set of explosive devices, ranging from Bolo Grenades to explosive gas canisters to Q-11 plastic bombs. Handing half of the explosives and grenades to Dave, Martin resumes the plan. "From there the Monkey and I will explore the place to deem it structural safe and pests free. Side note if the wind starts picking up speed within fifteen minutes or lighting cracking around you, the both of you double times your asses over to the Monkey and I current location. Inside or not." Looking over to the other to get their confirmation the plan, everyone nods their heads. "Let move Monkey."

Dave nods his head as carefully placing the explosives into a spare pouch and clipping Bolo's on his left hip. They both leave the clearing to the abandon base.

Author's Note

1) I'm back and ready to continue my work. I want to apologies to all my readers, new and old, for the lack of updates, I really haven't been motivated to write. Too all my new readers, later chapters will make sense to what was said here, but after a few rewrites.

2) To add to this all of the my older chapters are going through a rewrite, because I made a lots of mistake in the story plot line and how I executed it the first time. Because of this fault, writing a chapter after Broken became very tedious and nerve wrecking. To the point where I nearly gave up this story. I had an idea, I knew what I wanted to write, but I couldn't executed it properly. Every time I tried the wording sounded off or it didn't work at all. So, I decide to rewrite it all.

3) Finally, I'll like to say, "Thanks for reading the Stranded Four! I hope you had a good time!"

This UNITLuna004 signing off.

P.S. Any creative criticism is wanted. I work alone so I can't spot all my mistakes.

Fatigue: Train

Planet: Sera
Location: Unknown forests, distance from COG installation
Destination: Inside installation
Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

Martin P.O.V.

Down, the Monkey and I descent on an old road path. A slopey, unstable, stoney, dirt road. From the looks of it, it haven’t seen usage in years. Forgotten either before Emergence Day, when it happened or sometime afterward. Now mother nature seeks to reclaims what was once hers. As weeds, wildflowers and other shit grows over the path, mending it to the rest of the natural environment. Covering up any traces that we were ever here.

‘Sixteen years’

From the top of the hill, the path looks easy to trek through. But going downwards is another thing.

‘Sixteen years’

As nature grows over old road, obscuring our view of it.

‘Sixteen years’

Yet remnant of the old road still exist.

‘Sixteen years’

Random patches of dirt here and there.

‘Sixteen years, remember’

Rotten wooden post scatter randomly around, giving us a small glimpse of the former road. It isn’t really that hard to figure out where to go and not trip over a stupid rock. Like a fucking retard. It just annoying and tedious.

‘Sixteen years...Martin’

Just like a headache.

‘Sixteen years, you can’t forget’

A really fucking annoying headache.

‘Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen-’

God there’s never enough alcohol in the world to make it go away.

‘years’

“Fuck.”

“You say something?” Asks the Monkey.

‘Martin’

“No.”

I need a drink.

‘You can’t forget’

I need a stiff drink.

‘Sixteen years, YOU can’t forget’

A really stiff drink.

‘You can’t forg-’

“Martin.”

“Huh?” I said, breaking from near stupor state.

“You aight?” The Monkey ask all concerns and shit.

“Peachy.” I replied.

“Good, you kinda blank out there for a sec.” He turns to look at me. “You sure?”

“Yeah, tired.” I said.

“So- ‘rry Martin, it's nothing personal.’”

“Huh?” I said, unsure of what I heard.

“I ask, ‘So Martin how long ‘til we reach the building?’” The Monkey repeat his question with a slight humorous tone.

Dammit. Must be more exhausted than what I originally thought.

‘You can’t fo-’

“About an four to six klicks.” I answered ignoring the Monkey awful attempt at humor.

“What?” The Monkey stop, almost tripping himself over some grass.

Dumbass.

“I said four to six klicks.”

“Wha-HOW?” Exclaim the Monkey hesitant to accept what I said.

Taking a breath of air to rejuvenate my mind. I take a second to ponder on the Monkey question, from the initial view from atop the hill, the trek didn’t like it would be more than a klick or two. Maybe even three klicks if I fucked up. But as we descent, everything seems, no feels longer than it should? It’s insignificant at first that no one would take notice, but the more we walk, the more I begin to notice things. The trees, grass, the rocks, hell even the dirt looks stretch, even if it’s only a small margin. It’s as of we move an inch, twenty more takes it place. It strange. I know.

Glancing over to the Monkey, he still looks the same, if only slightly agitated. Nothing seems out of place, yet I can’t shake of this feeling.

‘...don’t...’

Must be my craptastic mind playing tricks. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a shit mind of mine.

‘...forget...’

But why do I feel like I’m lying to myself? To feel safe…? Everything feels wrong. My body is screaming at me, against some unknown force.

‘...US...’

It feels wrong.

‘...please…’

I feel wrong?

“So?” The impatient asshat asks.

“We’re fucked.” I said, disregarding the feeling. Even as everything in my body scream at me not to.

“Explain?” Curiously, the Monkey tilt his head to the left.

“We’ll never make it in time.” I stated plain and simple.

Panic begins to spread across his face. “But earlier you said it couldn’t be further than two kilicks,” he prattles, “and that we have about thirty minutes until the storm hits.”

“Correct.”

“Then why aren’t we running?”

A good question to ask.

“To conserve energy.” I half heartedly replied.

“Bullshit,” he states. “You just said, it now ‘four to six kilicks.’”

“True,” I said. “But we wouldn’t make in time.”

“Why?”

Not wanting to hear his constant bitching, I give a half-ass excuse.

“Because even if we ran at our fastest speed, we would only run about three or four klicks. Nowhere near enough to outrun the storm before it hits.”

“Bu-”

Cutting him off, “Before you say anything else, here’s a list as to why we’ll died from our current state before the storm.” Burning off what minuscule fumes of energy I still retain, I list off my reason, “First off, shut the fuck up. Second, neither of us has had any proper rest in weeks. Third, the last time we eat anything that wasn’t dirt, air and/or shit was ten days ago. Hell we’ve been drinking our own piss for about the past six days. Excluding my special water. And to top it all off, we’re all carrying easily around one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds of none essentials.” I firmly state. “We’ll never make it.”

“Then why not drop your satc-”

“We both know the answer to that.”

He grumbles away in frustration to my response. Knowing that The Man Purse is very important to our survival...even if it weighs the same as a goddamn Centaur.

“Then what the fuck do we do?” He looks towards me like I have the fucking answer to the literal shitstorm we’re walking into.

“Best bet is hope that there’s a cave or something at the bottom large enough for the both of us.”

He stares inquisitively at me for a moment, before the realization of what I said hit him.

“What about the others?”

“Fuck them.”

“Goddamnit, Martin!”

I continue downwards.

“You’re an ass!” He shouts.

“I know.”

“Guys, we go-”

Leaving, the Monkey to contact the others. I continuing towards the bottom of this hill, in a vain attempt of finding shelter or something to outlast the storm.

So then why do I feel so weird...? I know for certain that it not guilt or regret. Murder those little shitstain dead years ago with a rusty spork and an severed arm. But why is this weird sensation hitting me hard. It feels as if I’m being stomp on by a conga-line of Brumak. Only then to randomly get gangbang by a swarm of Berserkers. It not a right feeling. So why do I. . .wrong?

Why-can’t I feel the ground?

Looking down on instinctively, I notice the distinct lack of ground under me. I step over a ledge.

“SHIT!”

“Martin!”

Is all I hear before everything flashes.

Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

The Friendship Express, one of Equestria most prevalent and advance technological wonder to date. The fastest in land transportation, this wonder of technology is capable of reaching a max speed of 60 mph. Able to outrun any pony on hooves, a true marvel to behold. The train has several variations; one design to carry passengers, another meant to carry heavy cargo and goods, one for military usage and lastly one, though rarely known, one meant for the princesses of Equestria. Such an extraordinary and grand piece of technology only used by the common ponies of Equestria. It truly is breathtaking.

But to the student of Ms. Cheerilee class, this wonder was nothing more than a mobile box prison. Without much to do other than sit down, look out the window and just patiently wait. Which we all know is impossible for any child, the students found ways to entertain themselves. So just as children would do, they annoying everyone around them. Sure some were content by playing with their toys, reading or playing some board games. There was only so much they could do, before pure boredom settle in. They all eventually began to annoy the rest of the passengers and the working staff. Leading Ms. Cheerilee to profusely apologizes for her students behavior as she tries to get control of her students.

Away from the rest of Cheerilee class and the commotion they were doing, were four particular fillies minding their own business. The first filly known as Sweetie Belle, was content with reading her book from before, tales and myths about an ancient and long forgotten species. Ignoring the antic of her two other friends. The second filly known as Scootaloo, was talking with her friend, Applebloom. They were talking about colts and how to get their attention. The third filly as mention, Applebloom, was also thinking of a way to attract some of the colts in her class or those at the beach. Though her plan had a little more tact than Scootaloo.

“How about we complement the colts on their flanks and thighs?” Said Scootaloo.

“Scoots, we know that colts don’t like being treated like objects.” Objected Applebloom, remember what her sister and brother taught her about treating colts.

“So what do we say then?” Asks Scootaloo. Trying to figure out another plan to get some summer-time coltfriends.

The former Cutie Mark Crusaders, were finally reaching that age where colts aren’t icky or have cooties. Were they saw the colts growing up to fully grown stallion. As their mind slowly switch from children to grown adults.

But moving on to the fourth and final filly, Diamond Tiara. The former school bully and plothole to everyone who wasn’t either her father or Silver Spoon. Her snarky, rude, awful and plotholish attitude has lessen over time, since her fated confrontation with her mother. But for anypony, change takes time and Diamond is having a difficult time adjusting. Even as she befriended the three fillies she used to torment, her old attitude remains strong.

“Ugh, you plan for getting some summer coltfriends, bucking sucks.” Swears Diamond in her traditional snarky voice.

Scootaloo offended by Diamond comment, retorts, “Well do you have any plans then.”

“Well, duh.” Diamond plainly states. As she folds her arm and tilts her head acting as if Scootaloo comment hurted her.

“Well we’re waiting?” Applebloom but in as Sweetie lowers her book.

Put on the spot, Diamonds blurts out the first thing on her mind. “Well, I would try to...umm...say they got a nice eye.” It wasn’t very well formulated plan.

Silence soon followed, then. “Baw-hahahahaha.” Both Applebloom and Scootaloo burst out laughing so hard, that they fell from their seats.

The color of Diamond face changes from her normal pale magenta coat to bright cherry red. Unused to these kind of situation, where she couldn’t bully or force the other to stop. She was left stupor state on what to do, until she heard a third laugh.

“Pffft.” She turns her head to see Sweetie trying to contain her laughter. “Nice eye.” Repeating what Diamonds just said.

Unable to handle this situation, Diamond walks to Sweetie with a look of rage. She yanks her up by her shirt and open her mouth.

“WELL WHAT DO YOU LOS-eeeerrs...”

The rest of her sentence falls dead. Reminding herself of what Sweetie, Applebloom and Scootaloo did for her. Even when she knew didn’t deserved it. As well as the lingering thought of turning out to be just like her mother. She lets go of Sweetie and mutter a small, “Sorry.” And walks down on a bench a few rows away from the Crusaders.

Sweetie on the other hand, look at Diamond with flabbergasted expression. Sensing the growing tension that Diamond created, as Scootaloo looks ready to throw down as Applebloom is about to get Ms. Cheerilee incase a fight break out.

“It’s fine.” Sweetie say walking over to Diamond. Easing the tension as Scootaloo relaxes and Applebloom release a small sigh of relief.

“Thank Celestia.” Mutters Applebloom.

“It’s not.” A strong hint of sadness leaves Diamond mouth, curling herself in a ball.

“Diamond it’s all right.” Sweetie tries to reassure her. Placing a hand over Diamond shoulder.

“It’s not.” She curls deeper into a ball.

“Diamond, Sweetie is right.” Scootaloo says, walking to where her two friend are. “It just a simple mistake.”

“Please stop lying.”

“Yeah, Scoots and Sweetie ‘re right.” Chimes Applebloom. “You’r getting used to the whole not yelling and bullying part, it only a matter of time before it stops.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Diamond response.

She begins to feel relieved at this. Yet in the back of her mind she hears small voice, whispering to her petty thoughts. That they’re just lying. That they’re just pretending to be her friends. That she’ll never really change. That she is just like her mother. A terrible po-

“Want me to read you something from my book” Sweetie break Diamond from the voice. “I’ll let you pick what I read.”

“Augh, really Sweetie.” Mocks Scootaloo. “Like that will get her out of her shell.”

Deciding to mess with Scoot for the comment, “Sure.”

“Dang it.”

“Ha.” Sweetie mimic a laugh.

“Get ready Applebloom, Sweetie is going all bookworm on us.” Scootaloo say walking away from the others.

“Don’t ya mean Twilight mode?” Question Applebloom as she follows Scootaloo. Knowing the danger they would face if they stuck around.

“Exactly.” A rapid series of hoofstep is heard.

Seeing the her two other to friend leave, well more like running. Sweetie look back to Diamond and mutters, “Well let follow them.” As mischievous smile appear across her light grey coat.

Diamond stares at Sweetie a bit confused, but like moth to a flame, she gets the memo immediately. A similar sinister smile appears across her face. “You did say I can pick right?”

“Yes I did.”

“I know just the one.” And with that the two fillies, begin to trace their friends.

Author's Note

I really want to continue this, but at the same time not really.

Bliss: Befuddled

Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

“Get back here!” Sweetie playfully yells at her two friend. Scootaloo is in the lead with Applebloom directly behind her, while Diamond is dead last in the chase.

“Never!” Scootaloo yells in defiance. Determine to outrun both Sweetie and Diamond, as her desire to avoid learning about old thing on her vacation is strong.

“Darn tootin’.” Agrees Applebloom, though she sounds more joyous and playful than Scootaloo.

The three fillies run across the train smiling and laughing, confine to the train limited space. Such limits compels Scootaloo and Applebloom to get creative in their escape methods. Running around, under and above both passengers and staff alike, knocking over luggage, decorations or tripping the occasional pony, they earn the ire of those around them. Nonchalantly shouting off half-arse apologizes. Knowing that once they finish playing, that they’re were going to get a earful from Ms. Cheerilee and the train staff, but that’s a problem for the future Crusaders. After all they’re still filly wanting to have fun while they still can. All except for one pony.

“Get~huff~back~huff~here...please.” Wheezes out Diamond lagging behind her friends. Hobbling to catch up, as her friends get further and further away. Losing sight of them as they run into another cart, leaving her behind in an empty cart. They been running for a straight thirty five minutes, with no breaks. Diamond feels the strain of her muscles as she is forced to ignore the pain. But try as she might, her body is frail and piteous. Her legs giving out, crumbling onto the floor. The cold hard wooden floor.

“huff~come~huff~back…”

The only comfort she’s granted is the cold floor, as it soothe her irritated and pain filled body. Gasping at air to help alleviate the pain and eases her insides. But it’s to no avail. Her body is weak. As nausea sets in, head drumming a choirs of misery, lungs burning an inferno, muscle decrepit and sore, eyes red and wavering. Desperately struggling not to succumb to her waning body.

“~huff~Come~huff~back`huff~please...”

It’s pointless.

In a cart devoid of both staff and passengers, there’s none to help her. Leaving her in utter solitude. Berating herself for thinking she could keep up with the others. Knowing full well that she isn't like the other fillies.

Or most ponies in general.

. . .

Alone.

She’s always alone.

And at her loneliest, there’s only one thing she can truly do on her own.

“Hu-gurk.”

After forty minutes of chasing her friends across the train, Sweetie is ultimately the winner. Using her horns to levitate few pillows lying conveniently on an empty bench. Tripping Scootaloo and Applebloom into a tangle mess on the ground. Scootaloo yelp unexpectedly as she falls over just as Applebloom land on her back.

“Hey, that ain’t fair.” Applebloom annoyingly tells Sweetie.

“Yeah that’s totally cheating.” Chimes Scootaloo, being smoosh underneath Applebloom.

“Hey, there’s no rule on me using my horn.” Sweetie smugly replies. Moving to help her friends up.

“Yeah, yeah, help me up already.” Scoots reluctantly says. Sweetie lend a hand in which Scootaloo graciously accepts. Grasping Sweetie hand, Scootaloo notices that her friend has lean muscles forming. Something which Sweetie did not previously have. Sweetie pulls her from underneath Applebloom, just as said filly was about to rise. Causes Applebloom to trip and fall again to the floor. This time with her plot hanging in the air. A moment of intense silence takes over the vacant cart, as Scoot and Sweetie staring into each other eyes before breaking into laughter.

“Har, har, har,” Applebloom looks unamused. “A little help?” Even though she capable of lifting herself up. She want her friends to do it. They help her up, feeling slightly guilty for causing Applebloom to fall again.

“Well let’s head back, before we get into any more trouble.” Said Applebloom. The others nod in agreement. Walking back to their proper cart. Not once noticing a certain rich tiara wearing pony was missing from their little group.

“Mare, Sweetie when did you get that good at magic?” Ask Scootaloo. Walking in between Sweetie and Applebloom.

“Yeah, last time Ah could remember you could barely lift a stick.” Say Applebloom.

“Well, I’ve been practicing since then.” Replies Sweetie. “Twilight been helping me to improve my magic, whenever she’s been able to.”

“She’s been giving you extra help huh? Well why not have your sister help?” Questions Scoots, “Wouldn’t that be more convenient.”

“It certainly would, but Rarity not that great with the type of magic I want to learn.”

“Really, Ah would’a thought she be your best option?” Applebloom asks.

“Yeah, she very great at magic. Especially when it come levitation since she need to be precises when it comes to her dresses and designs, but she lack the magical skills I seek.”

“Still wouldn’t she be a great help in you becoming better at levitation.” Scootaloo says.

“Again, Rarity would be a great help,” Sweetie seems reluctantly to say, most likely from her trying to not inadvertently insult her sister. As Rarity, no matter the distance or time, will know when Sweetie is bad mouthing her. “But her magic is more mundane.” She says, looking into her friends eyes, pleading to end the conversation right then and there.

Applebloom gets the messages, but Scootaloo misses the cue or ignores it entirely, “So wouldn’t that still be helpful?”

“It would, but as I said, ‘her magic is mundane’ to what I want to learn.” Sweetie fidgets a bit.

“So what do you want to learn then?”

“Oh nothing much.” Sweetie says, looking away from Scootaloo as the ceiling seems more interesting than her friend.

Applebloom places a hand on Scootaloo shoulder, “Hey, Scoot Ah think it’s best to stop.”

“Huh?” She turns to face Applebloom. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know?”

“Well..Ah do, bu-”

“Exactly.” She interrupts Applebloom before she’s done.

“I really don’t feel like it the right moment to talk about.”

“Come on Sweetie, spill the beans.” Pressing the issues, Scoots shake Applebloom hand off her and moves closer to Sweetie. “At least tells us if it’s something bad or not?”

Sweetie looks at them contemplating whether or not to tell them. After a minute she stop and gives into her friend demand, “Fine, I’ll tell you girls, but please keep this a secret from everypony, especially Rarity.” Staring into their eyes as she takes a rigid pose to signify the seriousness of it.

“We promise not to tell anypony.” Says Applebloom looking at Scootaloo. “Right.”

“I promise, now tell us.” Scootaloo says eager to hear her friend secret.

“It’s combat magic.” Sweetie hesitantly says. Looking away from he friends, not in embarrassment or shame, it’s just something else. “I want to join the Royal Guards, Mage Division.”

“Whoa, combat magi-wait the Royal Guards!” Shouts the flabbergast Scootaloo.

“Mage Division?” Applebloom questions.

“Hey, keep your mouth shut.” Sweetie place her hand on Scoots and AB mouths. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you girls yet. I don’t want anypony learning of this, at least not now anyways”

“Sorry.” Scootaloo remove Sweetie hand from her mouth. “I never took you for the type.”

“Yeah, why do ya want to learn that?” Applebloom walks up to her friend. “Also why do ya want to keep it a secret from everypony.”

“To answer the first question; I want to join the Mage Division of the Royal Guards, once I’m of age of course.” Sweetie stop walking for a moment. Thinking on how to explain the next part. “Second is I want to be strong like Rarity, but in my own way. I know that she’ll never approve of it.”

“I can see that, but why Twilight?” Scoots asking the elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” Chimes Applebloom.

“Because Twilight cutie mark is towards magic and as a personal student of Princess Celestia she would know more magic than Rarity ever could.” Sweetie states. “And because of all the wacky adventure she, Rarity and their friends get into all the time, she my best option in learning new magic skill and combat magic.”

“I agree with Twilight knowing more magic than Rarity, but what make you think she know any kind of combat magic?” Inquires Scoots.

“Well other than she’s the personal student of Princess Celestia and as well as the younger sister of the former Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guards, who is the current ruler-slash-general of the Crystal Empire, I think she might know a thing or two of combat magic.”

“Huh, makes sense.”

“What kind of magic does she know?” Applebloom looks to Sweetie, “It must be some real awesome magic.”

At the drop of a hat, Sweetie turns away as her face reddens, “Admittedly she know of combat magic, but told me she has little experience with it. Just the simple blast magic, teleportation, holding spells, simple elemental spells and a few more.”

“Really, Ah would have thought that she knew more combat magic than that.” Said Applebloom. “Like making shadows into weapons, turning droplets of waters into small sharp ice daggers or being able to disassemble enemies while keeping them alive.”

“I know right!” Sweetie excruciatingly says. “You think with all she’s experience and all the villains she’s fought, that she’d know more combat magic. But no, she just points and shoot her magic at her enemies and teleports around.”

“Lame.” Scootaloo nonchalantly says.

“She has told me that she’s prefer to learn magic that benefits and helps others.”

“Again, lame.” Scootaloo repeats what she said earlier.

“Yeah.” Sweetie said to her friends. Before continues to head back to their designated cart.

It’s quite and peaceful on their way back, aside from the glares they receive and rude comment from the other ponies and very few nonequine passengers. But they care little for that, for what wait them is what they truly fear. Knowing that once Ms. Cheerilee hears of they did, that she’s going to figuratively kill them. Mentally preparing for the verbal lashing and punishment they’ll receive once back to their proper cart. The Crusaders plan for a way to get out of trouble or at the very least reduce their future punishment. Never stopping to think if they forgot something or somepony.

Planet: Sera

Location: Unknown

Destination: To abandon COG installation

Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

Monkey (David) P.O.V.

“SHIT!”

Hearing Martin cuss wasn’t anything new. From the moment I’ve met him, he’s spoken to me, the others or really anyone, with an extensive use of profanity and slurs. With a face so apathetic and stolid, it hard to tell when he’s being insulting, racist, sexist, homophobic or really anything that ends with -ist, -bic and -ism. Or when he’s just talking to us. For example look at how he calls Raul and I. Don’t like it, but we begrudgingly come to accepted it as a quirk of Martin’s. Personally, I prefer him swearing than to him being silent. It’s the silence that worries me as nothing good ever comes from it.

So nothing out of the ordinary, just Martin simply swearing. . .or it would have if it wasn’t for a vague semblance of human emotion in his scream. Suddenly this terrible gut feeling hit me, I knew something was wrong. Turning to see...oh SHIT! “Martin!” In the span of five second I drop my Retro Lancer to the ground and scramble towards Martin. He’ll call me a retarded Gooshie cuckle fuck for it, but I couldn’t careless. He would do the same for me. . .

“Fuck!” Martin disappears from my view. In my rush, I ignored the surrounding area and trip over something. A rock or dead shrub, didn’t get a good look at it. Tumbling before landing hard on my ass on a rock. Bruising my ass, I rapidly plummeting towards the edge. It was a good forty or so feet away from where Martin fell, but I’ve could of sworn that we were no further apart than eight feet apart seconds ago? Having no time to ponder over this, I quickly grab my Trike and stab it deep and hard into the ground.

A plethora of intense burning pressure threaten to shred my arms into finely ground paste. Using my legs as makeshift stern, guiding myself away from a large metal bar. . .

. . .

Where did that even come from? And how did I’ve missed th-

“Aug!”

Pain takes over rides my thoughts as I refocus my efforts into not falling over the edge or crash into the metal bar. Normally this wouldn’t hurt, it’ll just be a minor annoyance at worst, but Martin was right. Our current physical state is just shit. How we’ve not died from sheer exhaustion is a mirac-

Vrrump

“Auhh!”

A sudden wave of this weird, no, unique, no horrible. . . no, nO, NO! Something not right!?! It’s cold, sludgy, sharp, jagged, smoothing, warm, watery and down right nauseating sensation, all at once. i-i-i-i-I can’t . . . whu?

“AAAAUUUURRRRRRGGGGGUUUUFFFF!!!!!!!”

For what felt like a perpetual existence of pure inhumane emotions and utter agony. Gods and demons watch over us as a child would with a new toy. We’re nothing, but object to be used and dispose of! Life is a hell and death is a promise. An eternity of death and life washed over me again and again and again and again and again and again and afain adn ainfgiiiiinlknwaa

Vrrump.

“Huff.”

“Huff.”

“Huff.”

The fuck was tha-

Oh no the edge. Closing my eyes as I waited for the inevitable fall.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Feeling all my previous momentum dying, I open my eyes to see that I skidded to slow stop near the edge. Thank the Great Mothers, I must of unconsciously added more force on my Trike during that shitstorm! I felt myself fading away. With great effort I let go of my Trike and barely managed crawled towards the edge, my body fighting me every second I moved about. Fighting the urge to vomit my guts out, I sluggishly peer over the edge in the hopes of seeing where Martin fell.

As I fought to regain control of my bodily functions, I couldn’t stop thinking about what that was. I force myself to focus on Martin, but it kept creeping to the front of my mine. Luckily something peculiar takes my attention. I know I’m not the smartest of the group, like Chris or Raul, but I couldn’t help notice that the fall was unreasonable bleak and ominous. It was too huge and wide that there’s no way Martin would have missed such a detail. What the fuck is going on?

Having no clue as to what is happening and in distress, I wobbly radio the others. “G-g-guys?”

“Yeah what is it.” Chris response. “Need a sit-rep if anything change in the last oh I don’t know ten minutes.”

Ten - ten minutes? Hastily, ignoring the pain, I pull out an old pocket watch and check the time. Twenty. Nine. Minutes. Twenty-nine minutes have passed. Fourteen minutes since when Martin mention the razor hail would slice us open.

“No. I need you and Raul to come over here immediately!”

“How come?” This time Raul response.

“I have no idea how to explain this, but Martin gone.”

“And?”

“And what?” I replied. “He’s gone, just gone.”

Intentionally, leaving out the horrid thing I felt on the way down.

“How can’t you explain that.” He say nonchalantly. “You just said ‘he’s gone’, so he’s dead right? Simple.”

“No.” Climbing up the hill to get my gun, only to stop midway on my fifth step. That, that, that thing tingling all around me. The thought of having that awful sensation coursing through me, even if it’s a negligible amount, is enough that I really don’t or even need my Lancer back. Sadly it something I definitely need. Backing away I think of the best way of getting my gun back.

“Look the best way I can explain is that Martin is gone. No body, no blood, no scream of bloody murder or anything. He just straight up fell into a hole and vanish.”

“Seems simple enough.” There’s an extraordinary lack of concern or care coming from Raul. Make sense as neither one liked or care for the another. “He fell into a hole in the ground. If this happen to any of us, you know for certain he’ll call us either a dumbass, ghibey boy, an underdeveloped bastards of slutty cunt breeding sow, a mentally deficient pieces of shit of a retarded fish or whatever colorful insults he’ll throw at us.”

“Raul cut it out.” Chris voice could be heard over Raul Tac-Com. “Regardless of what he’ll call us, that doesn’t change the matter the there’s gale-hail coming and the David is clearly distress over the matter. Even if it is Martin”

“Fine.”

“What do you need?”

“I just need both here now! I have no really way to explain without you being here.”

You need to experience it, to know it, so I can explain it.

“David you have beacon-flare with you?” Chris ask.

“Yeah activating it now.” I pull the cylinder device from my fanny pack. Yanking the cap off and twist the top to ignite it.

Whoosh

Bing

“Hurry, there isn’t much time left.”

Tossing the device to the ground a few feet away from me. It burns bright a pale red light.

Bing

“Also on your guys way down can you do me favor and pick up my gun.”

“Dropped it?” Chris questions me.

Bing

“Yeah, it fell from my grip as I tumbled down the hill.”

“You know it’ll make it easier for us, if you went for your gun and meet us halfway there to explain what happened.”

“FUCK NO!” I shout, normally I’m not one to swear, but after that, I’ll make a few fucking exception. “No. Just tired.”

“Alright.”

Bing

“Thanks you.”

Sighing, I look down at the beacon-flare, it’s one of Martin weird creation. Just like the things he build when we’re at a safe location. He seems to have a knack for that kind of stuff.

Bing

Pulling my Booska from my back, taking out its extended drum, I’m happily surprised to see that there’s still four out of its six round left.

Bing

That annoying bing echoes into my ears. The beacon-flare sizzles, as the sound of a lightly pitter patter of rain descent from the sky and land on the ground. I hope they come before the hail begins.

Author's Note

Monkey real name is David. Martin calls him either Dave or Monkey most of the time. He doesn't care.

Like in the game, everyone has three guns and grenades.

A Past Remembrance

In the brisk hours of a Bounty morning, stood the silhouette of two figures. Both overlooking the land below from the edge of a cliff. A sea of lush green and rich browns varnish the land below as a line of crystal blue carved it in two. Coated in a light mist as sun radiate light dances and swirls.

Drip

A wondrous sight.

Drip

Both figures stood bathing in the sun's natural warmth. Enjoying the passing seasons and the peace that it brings. A peace so few have experienced since Emergence Day.

Drip

The shortest of the two stood close to the edge. The shorter one radiated an air of playful innocent and exuberant energy, yet a strange stiffness held over the smaller one.

Drip

While the larger one stood behind, the shorter one. The larger figure carried an air of caring and umbrage. Arms wrapped around the small figure. Preventing the smaller figure from falling off the edge of the cliff into the vast world below. A glimmer of light radiate from the smaller figure heart.

Drip

From a distance, this would be seen as a form of bonding. Familia, brotherly, sisterly, lovers or otherwise, such a beautiful scene for those too view from afar.

Drip

A scene that most could never fathom in this current day and age.

Drip

But for every beauty.

Drip

There lies a horrid truth.

Drip

The smaller figure body trembles.

Drip

A pitiful whimper, unheard even to the worms in the ground below, escape into the Bounty morning. A whimper dulled by a callous and uncaring hand.

Drip

Young eyes wearily shifted downwards to see why the warmth left their body.

Drip

One battered and stained glove hand and a large rusted metal stick, lie upon their heart.

Drip

“I would say ‘I’m sorry’.”

Drip

“Hmm?”

Drip

“That, I feel horrible for what I just did and that you like family to me.”

Drip

“Guurg?”

Drip

“But then that would make me a liar.”

Drip

“And I hate to lie.”

Drip

Smaller silhouette pathetically tries to push the offending hand and object off their chest, only for the larger figure to twist it.

“HMMMMRRRMMPP?!”

Drip

“. . .hmrmp. . .”

Drip

“You were getting too close to her.”

Drip

Slowly the larger figure removes their hand from the mouth.

Drip

Words try to leave, but only gurgle and blood seep through.

Drip

“She already has enough problems without you dragging her down or how she spent time with making sure you’re okay for every little cut. She doesn’t need a distraction!”

Drip

“ . . . hmmr . . . ”

“She shouldn’t have to waste time on a parasite like you.”

Drip

“ . . . hmr . . . ”

Drip

“She doesn’t need you.”

Drip

“ . . . hr . . . ”

Drip

“She doesn't want you!”

Drip

“She only deserves ME!”

The larger figure yanked the offending object off the smaller figure chest and letting them fall. Blood spurts out like a geyser, soaking both them and the surrounding area in blood.

Drip

“Look at you, even close to death you keep insulting her!”

Drip

“ ”

Drip

Drip

Before the smaller figure body could even slump, the larger figure brutally kicks the smaller one to the ground, then repeatedly stomping on the body. A series of sickening cracks crunches and squelches play out.

Drip

Drip

Drip

The smaller figure eyes shine dead and faded, yet strangely focusing on their aggressor.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

The larger figure nonchalantly stood over the slumping body, kicking and stomping the corpse towards the cliff's edge. Looking down upon the deceased child as if they were no more than a cockroach.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

The larger figure leans forward and whispers, “She won’t miss you.” Kicking the mangled and bruised corpse, sending them off the cliff edge and falling into the land below.

“Hmp, good riddance.”

The smaller figure vanished into the land below, never once making a sound. Leaving the larger figure standing alone atop the cliff.

No one will know what tragedy happened this day.

Sickness

Planet: Sera
Location: Wherever the fuck Martin is at?
Destination: The Base
Date: Heat 8th?, 16 A.E.

Martin P.O.V.

Pitter-patter

“Hrrng!”

Pitter-patter

“Hrmmm.”

Pitter-patter

“Argh,” I groggily moan, feeling cold and wet.

“Fuck,” I groan as a shiver travels down my spine. Opening my eyes the first thing I see is the state of the sky. Shit...rain. Not much time left. With the heaviness of the rain, I assume I have a few minutes to find shelter or if I’m lucky a fewseconds.

A nauseating feeling envelopes me at the possibility of dying by razor hail. I‘ve seen the aftermath of that kind of death. It’s not a pretty sight. A soupy mess of blood, shredded meat and shards of bones is all that left of.

I need to move, but the entirety of my body refuses to obey. I’m hurt, my stomach gnaws in hunger and a throbbing pain radiates from the back of my head, yet I feel so dull. A dullness that could only be described as resting on hot stone but only feel the movement of my bones against my flesh in a frozen lake. Weird explanation, but that's what it feels like.

All I could do is watch the dark sky as rain continues to pour on me. My body won’t respond to me, no matter how much I struggle. Weeks of dodging Locust patrols, cannibalistic Stranded, shootouts, life-threatening papercuts and a general lack of essentials necessary to live. My body finally decides to say, ‘fuck it, I quit’. Sighing, I lay there begrudgingly accepting my fate. Even if the thought of dying this pathetically wasn’t on my list of amazing ways to die, I guess it could have been worse. I could've died getting reverse-cowgirl by a Berserker or eaten by a clowder of cats. Heh, death by cats, only seen two idiots die like that. Ah, those fuckers deserve it.

So here I lay in the wet muddy ground, waiting for the razor hail to hail me to death. I close my eyes and hope that the first one hit me in the middle of my head. That way I’ll go without much fuss and pain. Maybe I’ll dream of something nice, maybe even of her.

…

…

…

~Martin~

I hear a sweet and lovely voice.

~Martin~

A voice, able to sound out the rain.

~Martin~

The voice of an angel.

~Martin~

I hear her beautiful voice.

~Martin, my sweet little gribbler~

“Yes?” I asked, unable to speak louder than I could, but I’ll try for her.

~Why are you sleeping on the muddy rocks~

“Because I’m so tired.” My voice sounds hoarse, even with rain entering down my throat.

~Tired~

“Yes, I just want to sleep for a bit.”

~Heheh, that’s silly, sleeping on rocks~

“Heh, I know.” A barely audible laugh escapes my lips. “Thought you’ll like my honesty.”

~Always kidder, that why I’d preferred to be with you~

“Over him right?” I questioned/begged, my voice seething at the thought of that parasite being her favorite. That thing that only leeched off her generosity and did nothing in return to help her. The day I killed it was the second-best day of my life

~Yes I like you more than him~

Her word brought down my anger, yet the old hate still lingered.

“How are you?” I inquired, taking myself away from those thoughts.

~Kinda bored, but the food is better~

“Heh.”

Silence permeates us. For a few minutes neither one of us is talking, just enjoying each other's company.

“I miss you.”

~I know, I’ve always know~

“Do you miss me too?”

~You know I do and always will, but will meet again~

“I will be there soon. Then we can be with each other.”

~You can’t~

“Why,” I question, curious of her rejection of me joining her soon. “The razor hail will kill me soon and then we’ll be together forever.”

~You can’t, you just can’t~

“Why?”

~Get up~

“Huh?”

~Get up~

The voice lost a bit of heavenly tone but was still just as beautiful as ever.

~It, not time yet~

“Why? If I keep sleeping I’ll get to see you again!” I said.

~Get up and move on~

The voice was much harsher than before, still lovely to listen to.

~Do it for me, please~

The angel's heavenly voice spread a nice warmth throughout my body.

“No.”

~Get up~

“I refuse.”

A dead silence hangs in the air. Neither relenting in the other desire.

~You can’t do this Martin~

“I can and I will.” I ignore her pleading voice, god it kills me to do so.

~Martin please, is everything I've done for you been a waste~

“No, it hasn’t. Don’t ever think that.” The words stung worse than a knife through my chest.

~Then will you get up and move, for me~

I take her words in, thinking of her wants will always surpass my own needs. “For you, anything.”

…

…

…

I force my eyes open, to see that the weather has gotten worse. Using her request to live on for her as my fuel and strength, I experimentally flex one of my index fingers.

~That’s it~

“Ahh,” I groan in pain from the small movement. Fighting the urge to roll in pain, it’s unbearable and not the most desirable state, but I don’t have much to work with. Using what little fumes I had left, I slowly and meticulously begin to move each of my fingers one by one. Gritting my teeth, I focus on the movement of each finger individually instead of the pain.

“HRGGGGH!”

~That's it Martin~

It took a while, but I grew accustomed to the pain. I allow myself a short rest for my accomplishment.

~Keep going~

Her voice is enough rest for me, I turn to the next part of my perilous and shitty journey, my wrist. I brace for the inevitable pain, I twist a small portion of my wrist no more than a centimeter. Previously like before, pain skyrockets from the slight movement. Unable to do anything about it, I grit my teeth and twist, “Hrrnng!” When the pain got too much I bit my tongue with enough force to draw blood. It's hell. Worse than moving my fingers, as I can feel every single muscle fiber in my wrist writhing in pain. Fuck! I don’t know how long it took, but I slowly got used to the painful movement.

~Wonderful~

“Oh~huff~Goddess!” I wheezed heavily as I stopped to rest. The minuscule movement drained whatever bullshit I had left. It hurts to breathe, as blood spittles out my mouth with each painful breath. My ears ringing so loud that the sound of rain hitting the ground was a muffled drizzle. A throbbing headache in the back of my head makes me nauseous and dizzy. And with each blink of my eye, the world becomes a blurry mess. All in all, I feel like shit, and the rain does little to help!

~Only a little bit more to go!

Deciding that bitching is going to help me, I shift my focus to the final part of my struggle. I brace myself for the hardest part, gaining control of the rest of my arms. Once I have control, I’ll be able to get out of this shithole.

~Hurry~

Shifting all my attention to my arms, I brace for the worst. I wiggle them, slightly.

“FUCK!”

I wasn’t prepared enough. It is as if everything I’ve experienced before but multiplied by twenty.

~Focus~

Reorienting on the task at hand, I again wiggle my arm and as before the same shit occurs. A cycle of self-torture repeats again and again and again for what feels like an eternity, but in actuality was probably no more than thirty seconds. After everything the pain, blood, and swearing, I finally have control over my arms.

~I knew you could it~

Giving myself a small break, it's finally time for the grand climax of this situation. Looking around with my eyes to see if there’s anything to help me. On the corner of my left side, there’s nothing but acres of trees, dark clouds and angel piss descending from the sky. To my right more trees, clouds and piss, but at the very corner of my eye, there seems to be a stump. A bit out of my reach.

~Go and move forward~

Gritting my teeth some more, I crawl to the general direction of the stump. My legs are pretty much useless, so I have to use my arms and save my legs for later. The intense burn of my arms helps me concentrate on the task at hand. I grit my teeth so hard, that I feel several cracks in my mouth. Adding to the pain, I ignore it and push on.

~So close to the goal, Martin~

Once I get close to where the stump is, I extend my right arm as far as I can. Bingo, I feel the edge of the stump. Gripping the rim of the stump, I extend my left arm to grabbing the stump and pull myself closer to it. I can feel the tips of my hand being pierced by sprinters, but I press on. Knowing that if I relent even for a second, I lose my only chance. I push harder and harder until I feel my right hand slip off the edge hard onto its side.

Crack!

“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!”

~Martin keep going, you can do it~

Fighting the pain of breaking one of my wrists, I force my right hand back on the stump and lift myself. It’s agonizing, yet I don’t falter...not for me, but her.

“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

I eventually rise to my feet, standing triumphant as the rain pours on me. Ignoring all the pain and exhaustion, I stare at the forest before me and take my first step in the woods.

~Great Martin, you did it, now go forth and liv~suffer~v~e~