Chapter 1- Hey! It's John!
Authors Early Notes: I'm sorry about the dialogue. I'm not the best when it comes to that, but I still try my hardest. Please only give constructive criticisem and other kind words to others below in the comments- This is my very first FanFic.
"Go Go Go!" I yell at my squad.
I watch Private Brevin run through the hail-fire of bullets. He takes cover behind some sandbags with a destroyed turreted and a mangled body.
"Sir! When Will backu-" His sentance is cut short from a bullet ripping through his skull and splattering the ground with his blood and brains. I am paralized for a moment from seeing the first death in my squad.
"Sir! Come on or we'll all get killed!" I hear another private under my command yell. I shake myself out of my paralized state and realize that I'm standing up. I drop to the ground as quickly as possible, thinking that I was lucky that the same thing that happened to Brevin didn't happened to me. I see that man that had killed Private Brevin behind some a crude insurgent jeep holding a M14 SMUD, no doubt taken of a dead US soldier. My vision literally reddens around the edges.
[b"]NO" I Yell. I stand up and run through the bullets. I feel a few hitting my protective chest armor, only serving to slow me down. I see the man with the M14 eyes widen with fear. With no doubt in my mind, I unleash the full wrath of my Colt 9mm SMG on his face. *PAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPA*- My gun holds no mercy either. Almost all of my bullets hit their mark. His head explodes in a explosion of brains, blood, and other various gore.
Still in berserker mode, I turn to the other 7 insurgents. All holding various US guns, which just fuels me even more. I open fire and my bullets rip through all of their bodies. Only one survives after that onslaught. I run up to him a curb-stomp his skull. With one kick his skull collapses.
I lift my gun in the air with one hand and cheer. "YAAAAA! TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKERS! HAHAHAHA COME AT ME!" I laugh maniacally for a few more seconds.
After my little celebration is over, I get hit with the full effects of weariness. I fall the one knee and look back up to see my squad looking at me with various facial expressions. The 2 rookies look kinda green while the others, who have been in battles for years just look amazed.
At that very moment I feel another wave, except this one is pain. I notice I had one bullet hole in my leg, two in my left arm, and one in my foot. I chuckle and look to my best friend, Specialist John. "Told you I could...." I say, chuckling.. The darkness then overwhelms me.
I jerk awake.
"AHHHHHH! CHARLES? JOHN? BREVIN?" I yell, looking around my room for my Colt 9mm SMG.
I jerk my head toward my posters. I see the 'Space Weather' Poster and realize that I'm in my apartment in downtown Detroit. Not in Afghanistan. Had to have THAT memory turned into a dream, now didn't I! I think angrily. I mentally kick my brain for making me relive that.
I feel all sweaty, no doubt from the dream I had. I go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.
I'm only 23, but I have already have a scar that run from my chin to my cheek. My bright blue eyes stand out from my un-kept black hair, which I haven't combed for weeks. I'm 5'11, kinda tall for my age.
I look at my hands- Which are still pale-ish even after being in Afghanistan for two years, and, I am in pretty good shape because of Military training and such, but most of my muscle is in my legs- I take five-mile walks everyday now. I used to get even more exercise in the military. Hmmmm.... I remember the time when I was deployed as a sniper....
******FLASHBACK*****I put down my Colt 9mm SMG, and grab my M40- A top-of-the-line sniper-rifle, and aim down the scope at a lone insurgent walking along the walls of their building. I pull the trigger. To some one else, it would only look like someone fell over dead for no-reason, since I have a muffler on the end of the M40. ****END FLASHBACK****
I shake my head 'Urg! When will I stop having these god-damn flash-backs!? I think. I proceed to walk out of the bathroom in a very sober mood. I walk into the kitchen and grab some 'Cheerios'
"Could REALLY use some 'cheer' right now." I mutter to myself, holding the box an staring at the name-label. I sigh and grab a bowl. As I poor the Cheerios into the bowl, something very colorful comes out. I tilt my head very slightly.
Probably one of those cheap little toys that come in some boxes.... I think. I turn the cereal box around and see this-
'My Little Pony- Friendship is Magic!' With six colorful, cartoon, equines underneath the text. 'Can you label these ponies?' The text under the picture asks me. Scoffing, I look at the key where it has the names of them. 'Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, AppleJack, and FlutterShy..'
Suppressing a gag, I put down the box and grab the little toy from my bowl. Must be the 'Rainbow Dash' one.... I allow myself a smug smirk, on the borderline of a smile. How I can tell you ask? Well I DON'T KNOW? Could it be the Rainbow-colored mane it has? NOOO.... Who would've guesses!?
Anyways, I toss it behind me, not really caring were it landed. I begin to eat my Cheerios while looking out the window. What I see doesn't surprise me. A man being shoved to the ground by another man, while the man on-top pulls out a knife and waves it around in a threatning manner while saying something. I man that was shoved down gets up quickly and pulls out a wad of cash and hands it over to the mugger.
I look away from the window. If I wanted to watch innocent people get mugged, I could just look out the window any-other time of day. I turn back to my bowl and start to eat my cereal, again. After the very first spoonful, I hear a 'clink' against my already cracked window. What the fuck is it THIStime!? I stomp over to the window and open it.
"Stop thowin' fuckin' bloody rocks everyw-....." My sentence it cut short by myself when I see who threw the rock.
My Jaw drops, and my arms go limp. JOHN!?!? I scream in my mind. "JOHN!? Is that you?!" I shout down at him in bewilderment. He just looks up, smirks that little annoying smirk of his, and does a quick two-fingered salute. My jaw comes back up and my mouth curls up into a grin that hurt my mouth. I look back down.
"I'll be right there!" I yell in reply to his motions. I sprint into my bedroom and grab my Walther PPS 9mm (In-case someone decides to attack me.) and the photo-album on my cheap night-stand. I run back through my little apartment and fling the door open. I think I heard something crack as I ran past it... anyways, *THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP* Goes the stairs as I jump down 3 at a-time. I jog over to the door and open it.
"Jake! What's up?" He says in a fake macho-man voice. I just laugh and punch him on the shoulder.
"Not much bro! Where'v you been?!" I say He shakes his head slightly
"You have nooo idea." He says.
'"So, how are you goin'?" I ask with mock suspicislty.
"Well, after you left, this kinda... went down-hill." He says looking at the floor. "When you left, they wouldn't tell us why, and I started to get bitter. After about another week I quit, fed-up with them. From there-on, I lived on the streets.." He looks straight into my eyes. "I was worried bout' you Jake. I haven't talk to someone who just wanted to hang out since you left."
I look at him in surprise. "That was six months ago John! You've lived out there for six months alone!?"
He just nods his head.
This is getting awkward FAST... speaking of which, how did he find me? "How did you find me?" I question.
"Wellll, first went into this nerd cafe and there was a-bunch of computers and I asked if I could use them and then the lady at the desk said "yes",they were public. Then I went online and searched you're name and for some-reason you're address popped up then I realised you were in Detroit too so after a few days I found your apartment!" He finished off his 'rant'.
I just nod slowly, not fulling understanding what he said. At least it was something... I mentally shrug.
*THUNK* I look behind me quickly, then realise I just dropped the scrapbook I was holding behind me. John quirks a eyebrow and looks behind me. When he see's what I was holding, his gaze changes from confusion and suspicion to suprisement.
"You still have that!" He says, more stating a fact than question.
"Of fucking COURSE I still have it!" I replied with. "You wanna show me where you've been hanging out while I show you this?" He nods starts to walk over to the door while I follow him. We step outside stop and I subconsciously move my hand over to where I have my Walther PPS in it's holster. He turns around to see why I stopped. I point at the gun. His enitial alarmed facial expression shifts to the one commonly known as 'Recognition'
"Do you have one?" I ask, then immediately regret it as soon as it comes out of my mouth. He's homeless! Of course he doesn't have one! I mentally berate myself. He looks back.
"Ya! I have the exact same type too. Huh, cool coincidence." He says. The surprised look on my face must've given it away. He just rolls his eyes and says "When you don't have a house, there's even MORE of a reason to have a gun."
"Anyways..." I say. "Let's look at the scrapbook, like we came out here for." I open it and sit down on the curb. The first picture is of my first squad. Brevin, John, Carter, Nick, and I. In the picture we're all wearing goofy smiles and saluting in-front of a American flag.
I realise that I have a few tears in my eyes, so I shake my head and flip the page.
The picture there is my squad at a moral party. In it Brevin is drunk and trading jokes with some other guy, John is trying to flirt with some girl with me behind him laughing my ass off, Nick asleep drooling on a table, and Carter is just talking with a group of other guys.
Now Brevin's dead, Nick is dead, and Carter is somewhere out in New York. I start openly weeping.
"It-t's just n-not fair! Not f-fucking fair! NOT FAIR!" I continue to cry while punching the concrete besides me.
"Jake... Jake! It's okay man!" I hear. "Jake, it's in the past. It's okay man..." He keeps repeating that. It only helps me calm down a fraction and a percent. To much of my chargine, I keep crying for a few more minutes.
"Sooo... Um, Jake? Do you want to walk some?" He asks nervesly, trying to change I subject. I don't say anything and nod my head. He nods back and we start walking.
I sniff a few times and tell him "Lets go to that donut place around the block." He doesn't say anything and gives a-little side-ways nod of his head. I shrug and follow him.
"HELP! SOMEBODY! PLEASE H-HELP! We are both startled by this yell. He turns around and looks at me.
"Let's go." I just smirk. We start to run to the source of the yell. I stop and look both ways. To the left is a alley-way, and to my right is a small road. I turn to the alley-way, not even pausing and sprint down the alley-way. What I see is horrible.
There's six young adults tying down some naked woman. I forget all my training in my moment of RAGE!. Thats all I'm thinking.
-I'M GOING TO MURDER THEM! THEY WILL DROWN IN THEY'RE OWN BLOOD! THE BASTARDS.-
"OI! YO MOTHERFUCKERS! OVER HEAR YOU PISS-FILLED SHITS!" Comes a voice to my right. I snap my head over to see who said that and see that it was just John.
The guys as are obviosly surprised. But what I wasn't expecting was for 2 of them to draw back, sleek, pistols out, while 2 more pull of kitchen-knives. No matter... I think. I whip out my Walther PPS and aim it at the one who was trying to do... well, you know what.
"Don't. Move" Even I'm surprised by the forceful tone in my voice. Using my other hand I motion for John to flank them from the left.
The next thing I see will haunt me for the rest of my life.
The two men with guns both fire at John simutainisly. One bullet rips through his throat, while another hit his gun-hand. He's dead before he hit's the ground. I don't hesitate to pull the trigger on the two. Both there heads explode before anyone could even blink again.
"MUHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH." I stand there laughing a venful laugh.. I run at them and drop the gun on the ground. I jump at one of the knife-guys and roll under his clumsy swing at me. I stand up, knee him in the balls, and curb-stomp him in mid-air.
From experience I know he'll die in about and hours time.
The other knife guy is just standing there in fear and back away slowly.
"You deserve no mercy." I rumble out as I run at him as quick as humanly-possible. I twist his hand holding the knife, grab the knife, and stab him two times in the chest. I let him fall down. I turn to the main-man, but I just turn to the barrel of a gun.
*BOOM*
Goes MY gun. He falls to his knees, then his back, staring at the sky. I walk over him to the last guy. Now that I can see him clearly, I can tell he's a body-builder, with huge muscles and a admitidly awesome mustache.
One thought goes through my head as I look at him. It will be more fun to kill him.
*BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM* Goes a gun that's not mine. PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN!
I fall over and roll onto my side. The world starts to fade from view and I see the main-man almost dead, holding a smoking gun.
Summoning all the last of my strength, I manage to grab my Walther PPS.
Then, I die.
Chapter 2 - This isn't good...
Black
That was it. Nothing else.
I turn my head to the right.
Black.
I turn my head to the left.
Black.
Suffocating, dampining, BLACK.
"So, this is what happens when you die." I whisper to myself. Do I drift around inhere forever? Will there be a light at the end? Who knows. I don't.
"Hello!" I yell onto the void. "Anyone else there!" I wait a few more seconds. "HELLO!?" I yell, again, and again, and again. I don;t stop until my throat is soar and my voice-box is hammered.
"Your not dead yet, little one." A booming voice that seemingly comes from everywhere.
"DAY SHIT!" I yell "WHO, WHAT... ouch, never mind. Hurts to much to speak..."
The booming voice chuckles. You, you little one, get a second chance at life.
"Am I going back home?" I ask hopefully.
No. I am sorry. Your body back one your home planet is dead. Even I can not send you back to your home. It sorrowfully replies. But, you still get to live.
I stare at nothing. "I... can't go back home....?" I pause for a moment. "I rather be dead, than sent somewhere else than Earth." I turn my head to the blackness. "Let me die in peace!"
The voice is silent for a minute more. [size=18]I am sorry, but this is the way it must be. /size]
A unknown force just pushing down on my head. I wriggle about in pain as it goes into my mind and body "STOP!" I beg, to no avail. The pain starts to get more powerful by the second.
*CRACKCRACK BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM*
The pain stops as quickly as it started. I roll over as I pass through a cloud. Wait, WHAT! CLOUD! I think. I flip over again and notice: 1. I'm at least 2 miles above the ground, and 2. There's something brown sticking out of where my face mouth should be. Taking immediate action and calming myself down, I try to open my mouth, but the brown thing moves instead.
"Hi?" I say. Right then, I realize that that brown thing IS my mouth. As the conclusion gets to my brain, I forget everything I learned about staying calm in a difficult situation. Everything comes back in a tidal wave. -I'M MILES ABOVE GROUND, AND NOT HUMAN.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK"
PonyVille
It was going as a normal day; at least as normal can get in PonyVille.
But that was before a large vortex-looking-light appeared above the town, maybe nine or ten miles above the ground.
All the more timid Mares and Stallions ran into the nearest cover- ranging from a house to a baby-carriage.
The others all looked up into the sky, but only one Lavender mare saw a small brown dot falling.
And after a moment, she managed to make you what the said dot was.
"HOLY SWEET CELESTIA!"
Jake
After my outburst, I seem to calm down a fraction, but enough to control myself. I flip over in the the air to get a better look at myself. Okay, okay: I have a backpack looking thing on me, with my pistol on it...
Along with a whole new style:
I kinda look like a small horse.. Is my first thought at seeing my new body. I have a brownish-red coat, a black mane with a small bit of red at the tips, a black tail, and wings.
...
...
...
...
...
WINGS!?
I'M A HORSE, WITH MOTHERFUCKING WINGS!?
Well. I guess it isn't the most strangest thing today.
Then my AMAZING BRAIN comes to a conclusion.
I look down. I'm above ground. And I have wings. Well then, lets try this.
First I try something like rolling my shoulders. Then I try imagining me flapping the wings. Then I realize that it's a whole new appendage, and should be just like a arm or leg. THAT works. *POOMF* My wings shoot straight out. *RIIIIIIIIIPP*
........
I screech like I never have before. Half of my feathers on each wing are ripped out as quick as a snap.
Oh... Ya. I going half of the speed of sound, and I put full blunt pressure on the wings. My rational side says.
FUCK SHIT LORD PICKLE NAZI ASS FUCK PAIIIN AHH NIGERIA DICKHEAD McASS-STINE. DE PAIINZZ! My other side says. The headache from before comes back, and my vision starts to split. Something that looks like a white sheet slowly goes over my eyes, and just before I black out, I realize that it wasn't a sheet, but It was unconsciousness approaching. In a final desperate move, I roll over so that my back will hit the ground first.
The whiteness engulfes my vision, and I proceed to go back into nothing-ness.
PonyVille
"EVERYPONY! LOOK, UP THERE!" The Lavender mare from before yells, pointing a hoof up in the sky at a critiacly injured, unconscious pegasus. All the ponies within range of her shout look up just in time to see said pegasus hit the town square with immense speed.
