Gunverse: (1) Seeing Red

I stood there on the dirt trail watching as a spire of black smoke rose beyond the tree line. The feeling of surreal terror filled my mind forcing me to silently plead that this wasn’t happening. I dropped my sack of newly purchased supplies on the ground and sprinted as fast as I could down the lane, failing to notice the many tracks already left in it.

Rounding the last bend I could see the source of the smog. The barn was in flames. Half of it stood precariously as its supports withered to ash while the other half no longer existed. Crunching noises pulled my eyes to the innumerable bullet casings that littered the entire area I had been walking through. Looking back up the breath caught in my throat at the sight of so many holes perforating the front of my home like a sewing machine through cloth.

Slowly I made my way to the front door as a strange calmness took hold of me. The happiness of so many recent days only served to amplify the feeling that it was all a bad dream. When I opened the door, what greeted me was no surprise. Everything was in ruin, the furniture had been torn to shreds and anything not nailed down lay on the ground in pieces. The scent of burning wafted from the kitchen where a pie sat neglected in the oven. Finally finding my voice through all of the shock I called out for my family, the ensuing silence sent cracks through the peaceful mask upon my psyche.

Worst case scenarios trickled through my mind as I moved towards the stairs. A struggle was obviously painted across the walls and floor of the hallway above. More bullet holes were speckled about, along with the spatters of blood from either intruder or victim.  The length of the hallway seemed to stretch longer and longer as my fear threatened to overwhelm my senses forcing me to use the wall to keep myself from losing balance. In spite of it though, protective instinct drove me forward.

Deep breaths kept my nerves from unraveling. All of the doors had been left open, giving views of ransacking and destruction, but no life. The last door on the right, my bedroom, was closed shut unlike the others, a broken lock the only evidence of misuse. I stood there for some time trying to prepare for what awaited me on the other side. That little preparation was all that kept me from dropping to my knees, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears.

Right in front of me laid my sister, with an empty six shooter in her hand and five bloody holes in her chest.  Her expression was a mix of determined malice and sadness through her gritted teeth. Her gaunt cheeks were stained with dried up tears from her tightly shut eyes, much like the ones that fell heavily from my own.

Taking a step inside, I could tell that someone had stripped the place looking for something, but the relative neatness told me it wasn’t the intruders. Looking back at my sister’s corpse, I looked to the gun in her hand and the small pile of empty casings next to it. If I had to guess, she had been looking for my gun. But I had hidden it too well, and yet it would have seemed that it killed her.

Shaking my head, I banished the train of thought from my mind before it consumed me. Kneeling down, I pulled her close and kissed her head. She had gone out kicking like the fighter she was, but now she looked like the angel she had always been.

Standing up I went further into the room. It looked a lot better than the rest of the house aside from things being tossed about. Not much else seemed off about my surroundings until a sense of foreboding emanated from my closet sending a chill down my spine. The door had been left ajar and through it I could barely make out a familiar green. Shaky legs carried unbidden towards what I didn’t want but still knew I needed to see. Almost from outside my own body I watched my hand reach out and grasp the knob. Unconsciously holding my breath, I softly pulled the door open.

My grandmother sat there on the ground, her head limply laying forward. She would have looked asleep if not for the horrible wounds across her back. Blood crusted in her hair where she had been struck hard and streaked down from the few bullet holes through her shoulder blades. I strained to hold in the sorrow from my broken heart, but whimpers cracked my voice as I breathed heavier and heavier. My diaphragm shook with my trembling body at the sweet memories of my beloved care taker.

Putting my hand on her shoulder, I pulled her back slightly to reveal the worst sight yet. I’d have gladly died a thousand times if only to erase the image from my head. There, in the arms of her grandma, was a little ball of blood matted fur. A single bullet had torn straight through her grandmother, into her own forehead, and out the back leaving an apple sized hole in my little sister’s head. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth agape in shock as the force left her staring lifelessly at the ceiling. It had been a quick death, but her signature hair bow wrapped around a make shift splint on her leg said that it wasn’t before a great deal of pain.

A serene breeze came from the window as my mind caught up to what I was staring at. Howls of pain burst from my throat as my legs finally gave out. New and hot tears burned down my face in rivers and crashed to the wooden boards beneath. Everything, I had lost everything in a moments passing. My sisters, who always managed to make my calm life a little exciting, and my grandma who always held us together, they were gone forever. I wept like I never had before, my voice filled the house as I cried out to them to come back, continuing beyond the point of becoming hoarse.

It took what felt like hours to finally stop. By the time I was done, I had punched a dent into the floor as well as grabbing my little sister’s lifeless body and holding it tightly to my chest staining my shirt in her innocent crimson. Recovering slightly, I gently laid her body on the bed and closed her eyes. Sitting on the edge I pulled at my mane, wrestling with myself to understand what happened. I had only left to get a few supplies from town before dark, but it was all the time fate needed to take my life away without truly killing me. I had nothing left. Without my family there wasn’t a chance in hell of keeping the farm or myself from fading to nothing.

Hot wind from the open window blew across my wet face, a distant explosion saving me from drowning in my thoughts. Looking out, a black plume of smoke rose from the distant edge of the east orchard and the light of fire shown against the darkening sky. My blood froze in my veins as my emotions turned full circle. Sorrow was replaced with a burning need for vengeance, and righteous anger reheated my blood to a raging boil. My knuckles cracked from how hard I grasped the bed rail. It had been rare for me to lose my temper at the time, but a few ponies knew the truth about my anger issues. Even fewer are lucky to be alive after triggering me in my adolescence. But now I didn’t try to stop myself, instead I let it fester and drive me, consuming my entire being.

I got up with determination flaring from my heart. Gently I pushed the bed out of the way so as not to disturb the one resting upon it. Doing so revealed the trap door beneath that my sister had missed. Pulling out the box within I flipped the hatches on it and revealed the polished metal inside it. I had hated the idea of guns to begin with, but I was quick to realize that the need for one to protect my loved ones far outweighed my personal feelings. A snort escaped my muzzle at the fact that the infernal contraption entirely failed to protect my family at all. But it hardly mattered now, it hadn’t saved them like I’d hoped, but it would damn sure avenge them. Almost eagerly I picked up the gun within and checked it all over.

It was simple compared to a lot of the other ones that were for sale, but for some reason the long double barrel shotgun struck a deep cord as though it were made for me. The near three foot barrel had a dull sheen to its silver metal as it sat in the solid oak grip. The handle and butt were also oak, lacking any intricate patterns that others tended to have. The simple design mattered little to me as I broke open the barrel, grabbed two twelve gauge solid slugs from the box, and slid them into their resting place. Closing the barrel gave a satisfying click and the heavy weight of the weapon did everything to assure me that it would do what it was built for and what was my only remaining purpose in this world. Quickly retrieving my father’s bowie knife from the box as well as a few more slugs, I stood and took a deep breath. I looked again out the window towards the spreading fire outside before I left with an adrenaline filled step.

Cutting through the east orchard took no time at all, even at night, with my familiarity of the land scape. The closer I got to the edge of the property however, the more I found my path to be blocked with flame. The air felt hot and heavy but I couldn’t notice with the narrow focus directing my actions. Another explosion rocked the trees around me and sent a gust of ash filled wind from the blast. Quickly making my way towards the origin, I came upon three figures standing on the edge of the shadows. Slipping behind a tree that wasn’t burning, I watched as two of the three hefted a large barrel into place just on the edge of a patch of fresh apple trees. Light from the fires revealed them to be diamond dogs. The third stood and watched the others work, the only one I could tell had a gun. I sat and watched them, patiently waiting.

“That last one, we go home now?” said the larger of the two that had handled the barrel, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Not yet,” hissed the lead dog from where he stood, “Light fuse and then we go!”

The smallest diamond dog struck a match and lit the barrel’s long fuse before speaking up, “Can we at least go back and grab those dead ponies. I’m tired of eating nasty hydra meat,” a malicious grin across his face, licking his chops.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Just the thought of those dogs so much as touching any one of them filled me with incredible anger. The farm had never had trouble from them before, but rumors had spread of the diamond dogs venturing out of the Everfree. I knew their kind was bold but had never thought they would go so far.

“Yeah,” the large one said in his dumb slurred voice, “I so hungry I eat little pony in one bite!”

My grip on the tree tightened enough that its bark snapped loudly beneath my hand drawing the attention of the diamond dogs in front of me. The lead dog was quick to react as he pulled out his pistol while the others stood there in surprise. Luckily, the armed dog’s eyes needed time to adjust to the dark after looking at the fire for so long. Taking advantage, I brought up my weapon and drew a bead before the dog could spot me.

“This is for Granny Smith.” I whispered.

With a practiced ease I pulled back the trigger, sending the first shot down range and straight into the dog’s head. I watched in slow motion as the forehead expanded around the slug forcing his eyes to bulge, fracturing the skull to pieces which were sent flying in a bloody explosion. What was left was only from the lower jaw down, the tongue lapping about as blood rained down upon it from its open neck.

Gathering what wits he had and dropping his fear, the large dog charged forward where he saw the muzzle flash. Before I could bring the shotgun around on him, he swung his massive arm and knocked the weapon from my hands. Bringing his other arm around at the same time his fist caught the side of my head. My left ear rang, but I matched his punch with a right handed shot to the gut. Despite my own sizeable strength, the blow hardly seemed to phase the brute. Instead he wrapped me in both arms and squeezed the breath from my lungs with rib crushing force. It felt as though a building had collapsed on me. I struggled as hard as I could, but to no avail. My vision began to spin from the lack of oxygen and the diamond dog chuckled darkly at his victory. Visions of sunny days and family picnics dashed across my mind, familiar faces relit the blaze in my soul. My heart began to pump with more force than it ever had and I could feel my muscles swelling up with the strain.

Sucking in as much air as I could, I focused all my strength into raising my arms. The dog fought back but I was gaining ground. Just as I was about to be free, the dog redoubled his efforts and managed to bring my arms down a few inches. I let out a garbled yell of frustration as veins bulged all over my body, gritting my teeth so hard that one cracked in half. Ignoring the pain I used my tongue to dig half the tooth out of my gum. Blood began to pour from the wound, but I kept the tooth piece on my tongue. My lungs were burning from the air packed in them, which I forcefully blew out sending blood and tooth into the face of my captor.

The blood sprayed into his eyes causing him to close them and lose focus, but not before the sharp side of the tooth piece embedded itself in his left eye. The dog howled in pain and dropped me to clutch at his eyes. Not losing a second I reached for my belt and quickly brought the knife out. The wide, seven inch blade sank fast and clean into the flesh of the diamond dog’s lower stomach. The blow caught him mid howl, causing him to emit a high pitched yelp like one might hear from a hurt pup.

Twisting the knife sharp edge up I slowly forced it in the same direction, jigging it back and forth to cut through the diamond dog’s tough muscle and organs. I stared into his eyes as they glazed over with pain, the dog’s jaw trembling as dry noises escaped his throat. He brought his paw up to my face and blindly scratched desperately trying to stop me, a single claw catching me just above my lip and slicing across my left cheek and down my neck. Ignoring even more pain I kept up the torturous knife work until the blade stopped as it hit the bottom of his ribcage. Leaning in close to his ear I whispered,

“This is for Applejack.”

I hopped back a step and jumped up to deliver my sister’s signature full two legged buck straight to the diamond dog’s chest. The impact was devastating as his body went flying, leaving the knife to spin in midair before dropping and sticking in the ground where it was like a magic trick. Both our bodies fell to the earth, his trailing internal parts from the mangled opening in his gut.

While I caught my breath from the struggle as the last diamond dog looked on in abject terror. The horrid mutilation of his brothers had kept him rooted to the ground, unable to come to their aid. Getting up, I locked eyes with the dog, which seemed a lot smaller than either of his companions. I would win in a fight in almost any situation and he knew it. As soon as the realization struck him, the little dog immediately took off running for the forest nearby.

Diving for my gun and landing on my stomach I quickly took aim and fired, but the dog was faster than that. Instead of killing him, the shot tore through its leg sending him scrambling to the ground. Clutching at the wound the dog whimpered as it watched me walk intimidatingly over towards it. Instead of finishing him though, I grabbed him by the neck and dragged him through the dirt back to the edge of the orchard. The scrawny, ragged thing weighed next to nothing in my hand, making it easy to throw him a few feet to the tree line.

Reaching into my pocket I pulled out a single shotgun shell which I loaded as the dog looked onwards. Snapping the barrel up I aimed it right at the dog. Almost instantly it began to back away from the gun, begging for its life while I took a few steps back as well. He made promise after promise, and when they failed he tried threats. His cries for mercy fell on deaf ears. I was lost to the red haze that had descended across my being. Familiar feelings of numbness had already spread through my body and into my brain, impeding my judgment and morality. I watched as the almost pitiful murderer squirmed further and further away from me, all the way until he backed himself into a barrel. Turning to look, the diamond dog recognized it. He was dumbstruck as he looked back at me, eyes wide and mouth agape, just like hers had been. I spit a wad of blood from my mouth as I lowered my gun.

Softly I spoke as tears streamed from my eyes, “This is for Applebloom.”

The barrel burst, consuming the diamond dog in a burning ball of flame as he unwittingly killed himself.