Chapter 2: Home is Where the Heart is

Chapter 2: Home is where the Heart is

“I really like her…mane?”

*****

The small, gray foal ran frantically through the forest. His breathing was heavy, his hoof-falls landing awkwardly on the uneven surface beneath him. Fear fueled his aching legs.

He couldn’t stop now. It would catch him.

He could hear it just behind him—a hulking mass of muscle breaking through the dense foliage at his back. Despite his frantic protests, it persisted—untiring—the sounds of its thundering pace growing closer and closer.

The foal threw a glance over his shoulder, almost stumbling in the process. Two slitted yellow eyes met his, advancing on him with distressing speed.

A terrified shriek left the colt's lips as he pushed his dying legs harder, his eyes blurring with the tears that had begun to form across his vision. He could almost feel its rancid breath on the back of his neck.

It was almost upon him.

*****

“Git up.”

Happy’s ears perked as the gruff voice called out from somewhere above him. Cracking open a sleep-encrusted eye, the gray buck cast a lazy gaze upwards. The dark silhouette of a pony’s head stared back at him against the dull gray sky, a grungy black mane obscuring part of its face.

“Gnnngghh….”

Groaning, Happy rolled onto his stomach, throwing a foreleg over his eyes and waving his free hoof toward the bothersome figure.

Not awake-time. Not yet. More sleep.

The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a firm hoof in Happy’s side.

“Up.”

“Hmmph…”

Waving his hoof a little more forcefully, Happy dug his head deeper into the pavement below. Just five more minutes.

The buck nodded to himself.

Yes, just five more—

“GET UP YOU LAZY BUCK!”

The sudden, shrill blast of a second voice brought Happy to his hooves in an instant. Clumsily searching for his hoofing, he rose groggily to his hooves, the tiredness in his eyes clearing as he finally got a good look at the scene before him.

Standing a few hooves away at the alley’s entrance were a displeased looking Rowdy and Deuce. Both had their faces drawn up into irritated frowns—bathing Happy in the meanest there-you-are-you-stupid-buck looks they could muster.

Happy smiled, tongue hanging loosely from his mouth as he shifted his attention to their surroundings.

Scattered around the two raiders was a mound of mottled looking limbs and flesh, the whole mess leaking small streams putrid green fluid onto the pavement. A few green smears of the substance ran up the sides of either wall like streaks of blood, darkest in spots where the wall looked like it had been hit with a jackhammer.

Happy took a moment to giggle at the destruction before shifting his focus back to his clanmates. The mare’s ratty mane swayed over her face as she shot a nasty looking smirk in the blue buck’s direction.

“See, Deuce? Just need to use a little feminine charm.”

She wiggled her rump suggestively.

“Works every time.”

The stallion just let out a low snort and looked in her direction.

“That what ya call it?” He chuckled lowly. “Thought it was jus’ called bein’ a bitch.”

The mare’s red face instantly grew a few shades darker.

“Bitch? Bitch!? You're the bi—"

A third, metallic-sounding voice joined in, interrupting the raging mare.

“Will you fuckers just give it a rest!?”

Glancing toward its source, Happy watched Scalper’s head emerge from one of the rusted dumpsters lining the wall. A few spent wrappers and cans that had been impaled on his head spikes shifted as he spat out a grimy fish skeleton to speak.

“Just shuuuuut up! For five minutes! Please!”

Grunting, he crossed his forelegs, muttering under his breath.

“Stupid, loud-mouthed cunt.”

Happy turned his head in the unicorn’s direction. For once he didn’t laugh. A pale fire had erupted in the mare’s irises, prompting even Deuce to take a step back.

Her voice pierced the narrow alleyway like a vein of ice.

“What…did you…call…me?”

Scalper’s eyes widened as he let out an audible gulp.

Even Happy found himself covering his ears at the ensuing verbal assault. The shouts blew past him like a gale force wind, tossing the yellow buck backwards as the mare leapt at him, eyes wild.

No wonder her cutie mark was a megaphone.

After a brief onslaught of booming curses, blows, and bite marks, the cloud of dust finally settled as Rowdy trotted happily to Deuce’s side. A haggard looking Scalper shuffled out of the debris a few moments later, taking his place opposite the red mare as the group’s attention once again shifted toward Happy.

By now, the gray buck had managed to work the sleep out of his system and sat perched on his haunches, tail wagging on its own accord as he faced his friends. His fatigue from earlier seemed to have dissipated. The self-inflicted head wound had already closed up into little more than a small bump.

Grinning, he let out a giggle, tilting his head expectantly.

Casting a last wary glance to the mare at his side, Deuce let out a sigh.

“Fuck. I don’t got time for dis.”

He waved an annoyed hoof in Happy’s direction.

“Come on you fuckin’ idiot. We been wastin’ enough time lookin’ for ya already. Back to da overpass.”

Happy’s head tilted a little farther as he raised an eyebrow and smiled.

He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Deuce facehoofed, muttering to himself before sighing again. His next words seemed to roll off his tongue like a mouthful of rancid hay.

“Back to...”

He lifted his hooves to make air quotes.

“…home home.”

Immediately the gray buck was on his hooves, prancing around with a gleeful giggle.

Home home! Happy hadn’t been home home in days!

Raising his hooves to his face, the buck's mind raced with thoughts of all the fun things he could do once he got back.

He could curl up under his blaaanket,gnaw on his favorite booone, and play with Mr. Grrrr Bear….

His eyes immediately widened at the thought.

Mr. Grrrr Bear! Oh he had so many stories to tell Mr. Grrr Bear!

Whack!

The heavy blue hoof came out of nowhere, knocking the prancing gray earth buck to his side.

Letting out a raspy chuckle, Happy spat out a couple loose teeth and looked up at Deuce. The blue buck met him with another irritated stare.

He motioned to Rowdy and Scalper, who were already disappearing back down the alleyway.

“C’mon dipshit. Less jumpin’ more trottin’.”

Nodding happily, Happy rose to his hooves and took off after the three.

Home home was waiting for him, after all.

Out of sight behind him, an unexpected breath of wind passed through the alley, throwing up a small whirlwind of dust in its wake. The aged poster of the yellow mare and foal fluttered for a moment, corners rattling against the brickwork in the sudden gust. With a quiet tearing sound it broke free from the wall, floating gently onto the ground below. It remained there for a moment, motionless, against the rubble-strewn ground.

A second breeze soon followed the first. Soundlessly, the poster took to the air—drifting lazily down the alleyway before disappearing after the giggling buck.

***

The trek back to the overpass took the remainder of the afternoon. By the time the four raiders finally crested the last rocky hill, the sky had already begin to dim in the early hours of twilight.

Craning his neck down over the hillside, Happy let out a giddy chirp as he took in the familiar sights of home.

Nestled in the shadow of the crumbling overpass sat a long, tube-shaped building with wide, rounded windows that ran all the way around its midsection. Though the glass had been broken ages ago and the outer walls blackened by balefire, a faint ring of red and green of fluorescent tubing still encircled the building—oddly bright against the dusty backdrop. The skeleton of a tall signpost still stood—barely—at the building’s side, ringed by a border of burnt out light bulbs. Its bright red lettering was almost unreadable, faded and peeled from years of exposure.

Though Happy could faintly recall a memory of Rowdy pointing to the sign and saying "diner," the gray buck only had one name for the place that mattered.

Home home.

Kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt as he scrabbled forward—eliciting no small chorus of curses from his clanmates—Happy took off at dead sprint down the hill. In the blink of an eye, he was at the bottom, barreling toward the double doors, his eyes wide with eagerness.

“HOOOME HOME!”

Giggling, Happy vaulted into the air, hurling himself through the diner’s entrance with reckless abandon.

KATOOSH! WHAM! BR-RR-RR-RING!

A cacophony of metallic, ringing sounds echoed through the small building.

After a few seconds, Happy poked his head out through the front door, a deep metal frying pan resting snugly over a few tufts of his blue mane. Giving his friends a cheery smile, he let out another giggle before beckoning them with a nod.

“Home home!”

This seemed to rouse a vicious chuckle from the three raiders as they continued down the hill, chatting amongst themselves.

Satisfied, Happy ducked back into the building, hooves clacking happily on the white and black tiled floor as he looked around. Everything appeared as it always did. The breakfast bar strewn with chipped plates and cups. The broken stools and benches piled into makeshift barricades on either side of the room.

Glancing up, Happy smiled.

Even the bone-ponies were where they left them, their bleached white skeletons shackled and chained inside the three iron cages that hung from the ceiling.

Whistling, or rather spitting, merrily—he’d never learned to whistle—Happy trotted into the kitchen through the open doorway behind the breakfast bar. The room was small—more of an oversized closet really—with rotting banks of wooden cupboards and countertops lining the walls. An old, rusty-looking stovetop was set in the far corner, surface caked with centuries worth of grime and dust.

Looking past the mess however, Happy’s attention shifted to the center of a small pile of newspaper and bones laid out like a nest on the floor. Swaddled in a grungy, yellow blanket was a small, stuffed bear with a chewed-off ear. Its brown fur was matted with streaks of dirt and grease and one of its black button eyes was missing completely, leaving only a few strands of wiry thread in its place.

To say it was “well-worn” would have probably been an understatement.

Mr. Grrr Bear!

Ignoring the sounds of his friends entering the diner behind him, Happy was on the stuffed animal in an instant, wrapping the little brown figure up in a hug and letting out a giddy squee.

Mr. Grrr Bear had always been Happy’s bestest best friend ever since he could remember. The little brown bear never said much, but he was always good for a hug when he needed it.

Happy let out a haughty hmmph! at the thought.

Deuce, Rowdy, and Scalper never seemed to want his hugs.

Shaking his head as he propped the furry toy up onto the mess of blankets before him, Happy plopped down onto his haunches. Immediately, he leaned in close, giggling as he began recounting his adventures.

Waving his forelegs for extra effect, the gray buck took on his best storytelling voice.

“Hehehe, ponies, ponies…dark…uhmm…BOOM ROARR, hehehe. Happy, uhhh, Angry….”

Happy went on for a few moments, chattering excitedly as he swung his hooves and let loose with a flurry of fighting sound effects and cheesy imitations of fearful screams. His voice lowered as he got to the good part, the stone gray buck doing his best to build on the steadily mounting tension.

“Flappy flap. Chomp.”

He pointed a hoof to his teeth and made jumping motions, nodding to his one-eyed audience with a sly wink.

Well, more of a blink, really.

“Heheheh—uhhh, pretty-pretty, foal foal…”

He thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to word it.

“…Happy happy crunch!”

The buck nodded, satisfied with himself. Sure he’d taken a few creative liberties, but Mr. Grrr Bear didn’t need to know that.

Happy looked down at his friend expectantly, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

The worn teddy bear just stared back in his direction, its expressionless face gazing off into the blank space past Happy’s shoulder. With a quiet thump, it slowly slumped to its side, coming to a rest face down on top of the tattered blanket.

Happy fell onto his back, a hysteric giggle bursting through his lips. Mr. Grrr Bear always knew just what to say to get him going!

Eyes watering as he gasped for air, it wasn’t long before the gray buck’s laughter was replaced by a long stretch of wet-sounding coughs that echoed through the kitchen.

A chill ran down Happy’s spine.

It hurt so goooood.

“The fuck!?”

The nasally voice barely managed to register in Happy's ears above the sound of his own gagging.

Trying to hold back his laughter, Happy glanced back to the kitchen door where Scalper's head had appeared around the corner.

“What the fuck are you even laughing at?”

Putting a hoof to his mouth, Happy did his best to stifle a giggle. Snorting as a couple of coughs exploded in his throat, he cast a sidelong glance to Mr. Grrr Bear beside him.

Blankfaced as ever, the bear just stared back at him, arms flopped uselessly at its sides.

“Snnnrk…HAHAHAHA HAHAHA!”

Unable to hold it in, Happy exploded into a fresh fit of laughter, flapping his hooves on the ground as Scalper smacked a hoof to his brow.

“That’s it.”

Happy watched, a curious expression lighting his face as the yellow buck stomped over in his direction. Passing him by, Scalper knelt down, leaning in toward Mr. Grrr Bear with bared teeth.

A low chuckle settled in from across the room.

“I wouldn’t do dat if I were you.”

Pausing mid-bite, Scalper turned to the door where Deuce now stood, a condescending smile visible on his face even in the dim, evening light.

Scalper returned the look with a scowl.

“Do what?”

Deuce nodded in Happy’s direction. The gray buck giggled at the acknowledgment.

“Look Scalps. I know you only been wit' us a week now, but I don’t think you wanna touch dat bear.”

The furrow in Scalper’s brow only grew deeper.

“Or what?”

Deuce chuckled, prompting an angry growl from the yellow stallion.

“Member dat uni I told ya ‘bout? Da one we ran with before you got here? Burnpile?”

Happy could feel his ears fold back at the name. A surge of very unhappy feelings began to worm their way through his chest as dark memories surfaced in his mind. Wrapping a hoof around Mr. Grrr Bear, he backed up onto his blanket, growling faintly.

Scalper nodded slowly as he took a step back, confusion mixing in with his anger.

“W-what…what of it?”

Deuce casually lifted a hoof to his face, sweeping his dark mane from his eyes.

“Pyro freak dat one was. One night he goes and grabs dat there bear of his and drags it over to da fire pit. Tinks it’d be funny to make dat one squeal.”

Making a sweeping motion with his hoof, Deuce motioned back to the front door of the diner.

“Me n’ Rowdy had ta run like hell just ta keep the bastard from chewin’ us apart. By da time we got back, weren’t much left of Burnpile dan a coupla bits a' hide.”

Deuce tapped a hoof to the door frame. Scalper’s eyes followed. Four, deep gashes had been torn all the way through the metal frame and into the wall, each some six inches long and tinged with red against the peeling white plaster.

The yellow buck cast a wary glance in Happy’s direction before turning his attention back to Deuce. The blue earth pony walked over to him, tapping a hoof to his chest like he had to Happy’s earlier.

“Dere’s a reason we keep dat buck around, Scalps. You saw dem ponies dis morning.”

He nodded to Happy, whose attention had shifted playfully back to the furry brown toy, the dark feelings already forgotten.

“You rile ‘im up, you’re on your own.”

Turning on hoof, Deuce trotted out of the kitchen, leaving the two stallions alone.

Scalper shot a wary glance down at the stone gray buck.

Happy looked back up to him, a wide smile plastered across his face. He watched as the surly yellow buck studied him for a few moments before he could smell it—not a particularly strong scent, but just enough for the predator inside of him to sense its presence.

Fear.

A cold flash of light glanced over Happy’s eyes as they narrowed into slits. Letting out a low, throaty growl, he could feel the pinprick sensations running along his spine, his body tensing on its own accord. Mr. Grrr Bear dropped to the floor at his side, momentarily forgotten.

The frown on Scalper’s face was quickly replaced by a look of sudden alarm. Eyes growing wide, he stepped back, scratching nervously at his mane spikes before spinning around and cantering away into the main room of the diner.

The prickling sensation persisted a few moments longer before Happy finally felt his body start to relax. Shaking away the fog that had started to settle in over his vision, he cast a curious glance through the door and blinked.

What was the pretty, spikey-haired pony so nervous about?

Shrugging to himself, Happy flopped back onto his stomach. Letting out a happy giggle, he scooped the stuffed animal at his side into another hug.

Oh well. At least Mr. Grrr Bear was still his good old self.

***

The same dream as always, darkness. Nothing but the raspy call of the voice pushing him on.

Kill. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Kill. Eat. Sleep. Repeat

Kill. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Kill…

***

Badump. Badump. Badump. Badump.

The sounds of the moving caravan were tantalizingly close now.

Happy let out an impatient whine from behind the boulder. Propping himself up on two legs, he lifted his head, trying to catch a glance over the rocky piece of cover concealing him and his clanmates.

Whumph.

A red hoof promptly met the side of his face, sending him toppling back onto the ground.

“Quiet, mutt!” Rowdy hissed through set teeth. Happy could almost see the steam rising from her ears as she tried to keep her voice down to a whisper.

“Don’t fuck this up. We only get one shot.”

Shifting back to her haunches, she went back to work, tightening the straps on her retractable hoofblades.

Letting out a groan, Happy nodded. Unhinging his jaw as best he could, he shoved a foreleg into his mouth and bit down. Hard.

A trickle of blood ran down the side of his impromptu gag. Despite the impatience chewing away at his sanity—the little he could bear to muster—he let out a muffled giggle at the sensation.

The four of them had been tracking the caravan all morning, scoping it out from a distance and searching for the best place to strike. Deuce, always the mastermind, had had them gallop down the trail a ways, concealing themselves in the rock field that surrounded both sides of the well-worn path. Caravaners passed through here all the time. They’d done this a hundred times before.

That didn’t make it any easier for Happy to stay quiet though.

Turning to his left, Happy could see Deuce and Scalper speaking in whispers amongst themselves, stealing glances over the top of the rocks as they readied their weapons.

Scalper appeared to be sharpening a sickly looking set of hooks hanging from a long, dull red chain at his side. Whether the color was from rust or dried blood, Happy couldn’t tell. Either way, it seemed to accessorize with his cutie mark quite nicely—a bit of a feat considering that the image was nothing but a length of razor wire coiled around a metal pike.

"Honestly," a strange voice drifted into Happy’s thoughts from out of nowhere, "how did you even get a cutie mark like that?"

Happy nodded in agreement, catching an odd look from Rowdy as he did so. Giggling, he turned his attention back to the two bucks.

At Scalper’s side, Deuce was slotting bullets into his namesake piece—the same one plastered on his flank—its twin barrels protruding from his mouthgrip as he racked in the additional rounds. His one good eye was set in concentration as his heavy hooves manipulated the small moving parts.

Despite their low voices, Happy could sense the same excitement radiating from their bodies as his own.

“Mmmph!”

Happy let out another muffled whine from behind a mouthful of leg. He wanted to go now.

Ignoring him, Deuce motioned to the others, spinning his hoof in a circle and pointing in the direction of the approaching caravan.

Scalper and Rowdy nodded as one, taking their positions on either side of the boulder as the creaking of wagon wheels grew louder. All four of them were breathing heavily now—bodies tense as eager grins crossed their faces. For once, Happy wasn’t alone in his anticipation.

Quietly—just loud enough for the other three raiders to hear—Deuce began the countdown.

“Tree.”

Happy bit down harder on his foreleg, holding back a giddy screech.

“Two.”

The gray buck pawed at the earth, an all too familiar prickling sensation beginning to run down the length of his spine.

“One—“

“MghawhawhawWWWww!”

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Happy tore the limb from his mouth and vaulted over the top of the boulder.

Time seemed to warp and bend around him, slowing to a near-standstill as the gray buck descended on his quarry from above. He could see the entire caravan clearly now—a single, white domed stagecoach pulled by two brown coated earth ponies, each donning a blue hat and red scarf around their neck. The bonneted head of a pink coated mare protruded from the front of the wagon, along with two smaller heads at her side. Foals' heads, one blue, one yellow. Bringing up the rear was a gangly, cream colored unicorn buck—younger by the looks of him—a small hunting rifle slung over his back.

The group seemed to turn as one, complacent smiles slowly twisting into horrified stares as Happy bore down on them from above.

Happy’s mind took it all in almost instantly—adrenaline fueling his racing thoughts. His senses had already begun to sharpen. The sights. The smells. The sounds—

An almost imperceptible fluttering noise whispered into his ear, followed by the faint metallic click of a bolt sliding into place.

Look up.

Twisting his rapidly expanding body in midair, Happy turned on the sound with terrifying swiftness. His sharp vision quickly zeroed in on the source—a beaked head and dark wings partially obscured by the dim cloud cover above him.

A sudden, faint flash erupted from the end of the figure's weapon as Happy locked eyes with the silver barrel.

Vvvvvvvvveow—pthhhss.

Happy's eyes widened in shock.

He had expected pain. Agony. An explosion of white euphoria.

But all he felt was cold.

Arcing through the air—time still dragging on at an impossibly slow pace—icy tendrils began to creep through his form, emanating outward from the dark hole that had erupted in the chest of his barding. His rapidly heightening senses were immediately dulled. He could barely hear the gunfire begin as he hit the ground.

The waves of the impact seemed to roll through Happy's body like a distant earthquake. Black splotches began to appear in groups across his vision, an uncharacteristic calm settling in over his mind.

For some reason he couldn’t place, the gray buck’s fading thoughts fell upon the picture from the day before. Of the mare and the foal. Playing together. Smiling.

Happy.

"Heh, heh…Happy."

So clever.

A last, drawn out breath wracked the earth pony’s body.

Then it lay still.

*****

Perk Achieved!

Sinister Presence – Despite the cheery face you put on, there’s a killer lurking beneath those eyes...and others know it.

You gain 5 points to your PERSUASION and MELEE WEAPONS skills. Additionally, any enemies with a lower STRENGTH statistic than you are twice as likely to miss on their first melee attack.

Author's Note

Apologies for any grammatical faults or failings, this is just a "self-edit" deal for now.