Dead Steed Redemption

                                                                            Chapter 1:

                                                   Just another day in Las Pegasus

“I don’t know what’s worse, living under the insidious Celestia or the demonic powers of Discord”,

    Tirion thought to himself as he walked down the old dirt road. He then gave a sigh of relief,

    “At least I’m not under any of their tyranny."

    He began to feel guilty for thinking so selfishly. For he knew that beyond the guarded walls of Las Pegasus there are ponies out in the wastes suffering, dying and begging for their rulers to show the slightest amount of mercy to let them live. But, if you are “lucky” enough to live in a settlement such as Las Pegasus you would have the cold feelings of death and fear attacking what’s left of your already distorted sanity.

    Tirion didn’t always live in Las Pegasus, in fact he remembers more about his past in the wastes than anywhere else. Las Pegasus was only just a seven year old settlement, but it took the appearance of a city that’s been there for centuries.

    Tirion looked to his right only to see a few ponies dragging a body bag into their nearly demolished home, leaving a trail of blood behind them. A moments later he could hear the ponies sobbing and crying.

    “Must have been another attack”, Tirion whispered silently to himself.

    He knelt his head down in respect and kept walking forward, picking up the pace as he did.

    To all those ponies that think this place is just heaven on Equetsria… their dead fucking wrong. All Las Pegasus is, is a big ass ghetto with walls surrounding it. All those pricks don’t realize that just because we have walls, doesn’t mean we don’t suffer in them. For within these walls is just another hell for Discord’s legions to fuck with. Every night I hear blood gurgling screams of stallions and mares being brutally murdered in their piece of shit homes, some of them don’t even have doors. I usually don’t get much sleep because of this dreaded fact. We don’t treat each other like family here, we’ll rob and steal each other blind if we were in the mood for it. And once this supposed “family” is done stealing from you they’ll want even more… your head on a spear. From there the thieves will give the heads the mercenaries guarding the walls and they’ll either use your head for bait to hold off the legions or to scare off any trespassers that dare confront the walls. For not every pony is welcome here.

    Tirion shook his head in disbelief as if trying to drop the topic, but he couldn’t, the thoughts of all the traumatic experiences he had in Las Pegasus haunted him. But, the days that truly haunted him were of the time when he was a lone steed or a bounty hunter if you will. As a steed he hunted a brutally murdered any who wronged or threatened the leaders of Las Pegasus, and in return he received enough bits to get him by for a week or two. Tirion was knee deep in debt in the past so he had an obligation other than spending money. He suddenly felt relieved though, for he realized he retired from his duties as a steed and his debts were paid… at the moment.

    With this new turn in emotions Tirion walked the rest of the way with his mind clear of the topic. He knows it plays out like this every day he walks by the crippled neighborhoods. As he continued his walk down the block he passed an old pub and immediately one of the patrons came.

“ANOTHER TO THE BUZZARDS”, stallion yelled.

    Tirion could see he was beyond wasted at this point. Stallion had a mug in his left hoof and began waving it ferociously in the direction of the blood trail. His eyes were constantly crossing and his foot work was jagged along the platform to the stairs. Tirion ignored the stallion and kept on walking down the dirt road with his head turned away so that he wouldn’t start any confrontation. Though once the stallion was done harassing the passing casualty he turned his attention and drunken rage to Tirion. The unicorn's hopes of getting home peacefully were shattered.

“WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOUR GOING, YOU LITTLE SHIT”, the stallion hollered.

“Damn it, are fucking kidding me I just wanna go home”, Tirion mumbled to himself.

    The stallion began to wobble a bit, but he quickly regained his balance. As annoying as the stallion was Tirion kept walking hoping he was just making some sort of drunken bluff. The drunken taunting and madness continued until finally the stallion and the irritated unicorn could take no more. So the stallion shot out with a quick and menacing phrase that stuck within Tirion's dark and distorted mind.

“WHAT ARE YOU DEAF? I’M TALKING TO YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH”, the stallion screamed.

    Tirion stopped in his tracks… he had, had enough, but before he could even respond back, the stallion drank as much of the partially full mug as he could and smashed the mug’s bottom on the door behind him. The mug now resembled a spiked mace. Tirion realized there was no backing out of this now, but he didn’t need to. The stallion stepped out into the old dirt road nearly tripping a few times along the way.

“WHAT ARE WAITING FOR YOU PUSSY ASS PHILLY, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE”, he yelled.

“There’s no need for that”, Tirion replied with a sly grin.

“What do you me-”,

    but before the stallion could even get an answer let alone finish his sentence Tirion charged his already aimed horn toward the stallion. Not even seconds later, before the stallion even had a chance to recognize the situation, what could only described as literal magical bullets flew from Tirion’s horn directly to the petrified stallion.

    When the first bullet hit, it entered the stallion’s upper abdomen throwing him back. The rest flew all over his quivering body. Bits of flesh flew clean off as the bullet’s numbers and speeds intensified greatly. Blood flooded the patch of road where the body laid. The lifeless corpse of what used to be a stallion flopped as each pulsating bullet entered him until finally Tirion stopped.

    He took a few deep breaths, he went through a lot of strain to conjure all those bullets. Small droplets of sweat trickled down Tirion’s strained face. A small wisp of smoke danced upon the tired unicorn’s horn. After taking a few more breaths Tirion slowly walked toward the dead stallion with a face full of disgust. When he reached the corpse he put out his right hoof and turned over the body. The unicorn grinned as looked upon the horribly disfigured stallion.

    Its chest was blown wide open along with his organs and arteries now scattered over the dry dirt road and the organs that weren’t already on the ground were slowly oozing from in between its rib cage. The stallion’s face was completely unrecognizable for jaw had fallen almost completely off joint and was now dangling from one side to the other due to the amount of bullets that had punctured his face and jaw, and as for the tongue, well it was on the ground somewhere. One of the eyes had burst as well, but the skin for the entirety of the stallions face came clean off. Also his right cheek bone was missing, but a few dented bullet shells replaced the empty gap.

    Soon after Tirion was done inspecting the corpse he noticed the ravaged stallion was still breathing his last and final breaths of agony and pain. An almost maniacal grin began to grow across Tirion's face for he took delight in such suffering of pathetic scum such as the stallion. Blood spewed from the flesh hole which was once called a mouth as the now soon to be corpse coughed and wheezed. His efforts to clear his throat of the crimson liquid and continue to breath failed for the blood was as relentless as the flames of hell. As a final statement of hate and disgust, Tirion hawked up a flam ball and spat it upon the stallion's freshly exposed eye socket.

    The area around him grew cold and quiet as dusk was slowly turning into night. He realized this and began is trek home once again, leaving the body to suffocate upon its own sinew and filth. Though he couldn’t shake the thought off his mind of how quick and almost stealthy the kill was, except for those occasional bullets that gave a slight buzzing noise as they fly through the air. He just stuffed the idea in the back of his mind for another day he wants to argue with himself just like he does with all sensitive topics he isn’t comfortable discussing with any pony else.

    Once Tirion turned on the corner of the block he immediately caught sight of home and began to gallop. He started to feel uneasy the closer he got home as if hidden eyes were watching and predicting his every move. He ignored this ridiculous yet haunting sentiment as he made his way up to the door step. As Tirion was about to place a hoof on the door knob he looked up and saw a note nailed to the door. He looked to his sides then behind him and quickly grabbed the note on the door.

WARNING FORCLOSER IMMINENT! PLEASE SEE TOWN HALL FOR MORE INFORMATION.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, I PAID THOSE GOD FORSAKEN SUITS LAST WEEK”, Tirion roared in rage.

“You know what, screw them. If they want my piece of shit house their just gonna have to come and take it from me”. He gave out a malicious chuckle and mumbled, “I’d like to see them try”.

    Tirion then crumbled up the notice and threw it carelessly behind him. Once he finally got inside he began to lock all five of his near shattered locks. They were literally the only thing keeping the door on its old rusted hinges. The door had taken such a beating before due to a few ponies trying to break in and rob him, but all they could manage to do was beat the door a few times until they were tired. He still thinks he should have killed those little pricks for fucking up his door, but the phrase “should a, would a, could a” comes to mind.

    Tirion looked at the beaten door, gave a sigh and walked toward the couch. He then looked around the room, the only intact furniture he had was the couch and an old candle lamp that his mom used to own before they fled the invading legions that attacked Baltimare when he was only but a little colt. He was going to light it, but refused like he does every night. The candle lamp brings back to many horrific memories of the war ravaging through his home town and killing his mother and father before their trip to Phillydelphia was complete.

    He had to survive in wastes alone and afraid until he could get to Las Pegasus. Though on occasion there were a few traveling merchants that would help him on his journey through the forgotten wastes. They honestly were no help travel wise for they would tell him to leave by dawn; they didn’t want dead weight. The journey itself took nearly two years. That kind of time out there alone can really change a pony.

    Tirion didn’t realize that he actually fell in a day dream sort of trance as soon as he sat on the couch. He snapped himself out of it, he didn’t want to revisit those dreadful days and nights when he would be walking all alone hoping for some pony… to find him. The room was now almost completely engulfed in darkness, night had set and Celestia’s atrocious day was left behind.

    At this point Tirion laid his head back on the arm of the rough and dirty couch for support. He wrestled to get comfortable but there was no use, the couch was a piece of shit. So Tirion stared into the blank and emptiness of the ceiling. Once again screams sounded off in the distance, they were so far away, yet so close. Tirion then whispered to himself the same phrase he tells himself every night, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes…

“Just another day in Las Pegasus”.