Author's Note

WARNING: Patches tells a story in which there is a rape scene!

Sorry for the long delay folks! Its been a rough transition to my new base. But I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things and hopefully this will be the last significant delay!

I did write this whole thing in the span of three and a half hours so let me know if there are mistakes, I did proofread it but fresh eyes always catch something!

Also, for those of you out of the loop, the original Vampony Survival Guide Blog has been taken down completely, at first it was hiatus after they lost Jay, then it shut down indefinitely for about a month, now it's completely gone.

I'll do my best to stick with the canon but I can only remember so much lore. If it gets too bad I guess I can just slap a giant AU sticker on it. ;)

Stay awesome readers!

-Jake

REDACTED pt.4

Chapter 7
[REDACTED] Pt.4

After an ending like that I really wasn’t sure where to start this next entry. The deer and I were all concerned Patches had gotten some of the venom in his system after cutting that vamp in half and literally showering in its entrails. He wanted to get away with a bath in the river downstream and call it good, he really didn’t want us to bleed him.

It took some doing, but we cut him a deal. He’d sit in a chair and let us tie him in if we checked his temperature to see if he had a fever before just cutting him open. Daisy and Bryon let me go to sleep for the rest of the night while they monitored Patches. I knocked out on the couch after giving a prayer to the Sisters. I had a mercifully dreamless sleep, my mind too tired to conjure anything good or bad.

I did not expect to wake up to… Well it’s pretty awkward to write about or try to describe so I’ll just do what I can.

I woke up to some pretty damn loud moaning, panting, and rhythmic slapping so I didn’t have to guess what was going on. It was the kind of sex everyone in the neighborhood hears…

I guess that whole morbid curiosity thing got the better of me because before I knew it I was creeping into the hallway to peek into the guest room. It was quite the scene.

The room seemed very bright thanks to the massive vermilion wings that had unfurled themselves and were scraping across the ceiling. Patches had Daisy on all fours at the foot of the bed and had somehow managed to get himself balls deep into her and he was just going to town on her. The way he had to lean over her to get his tall frame to line up with hers was almost comical and probably would have been were it not for how well the position seemed to be working.

I could barely make her out underneath him, her hips were just little handfuls in his massive palms. Every part of her I could see that wasn’t held onto by Patches was writhing around and she gasped and occasionally squeaked with every movement of Patches’ hips.

Patches’ head was partially obscured by Bryon’s legs, which were draped over his shoulders. It was pretty clear what was going on there too, his head was bobbing back and forth pretty quickly in time with his hips. Bryon was actually panting and moaning more than Daisy was and judging by the way he was tensing up… Not really a thought I needed to finish.

I was only really in the doorway for a moment, just long enough to see that before I bolted out of the house. I’m certain they heard me running down the hall, if they didn’t then I’m certain they heard me slamming into the door to knock it open. I staggered out into the front yard and just started laughing. I laughed so hard I ended up nearly doubled over with my hands on my knees. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time, it felt grand. The laughter was short-lived as I took in the aftermath of the previous night’s battle.

The three dead Gargoyles had turned to stone in the light of the recently risen sun. Their blood had stained the grass red. The Bats that had been killed nearby burned up when the sun rose as well, their previous positions marked by scorched ground and blood. The small clearing in front of Patches’ house had been turned into a scorched and bloody wasteland… Sort of like...

For just a moment I saw the scorched desert, bodies of a different sort strewn about. Black shining chitin, ichor, dozens of bodies strewn across the sand and rocks as the sun scorched everything not covered by shade. I looked down at my own hands, covered in the sticky substance.

I shook my head and pulled myself from the memory, looking to the trees at what was left of the Master Patches had shot. Her blood was indeed everywhere, clear up the side of the tree she had been under. It looked like the round hit between her heart and her spine, but left a hole large enough to completely destroy both. Her expression was neutral, like she died before she had even had the time to realize she had been shot.

Her hair was surprisingly well-kept and she smelled of perfume behind the iron scent of blood that filled the air. It looked like the rain had dripped down onto some of the makeup she had been wearing as well, causing it to streak across her face. Her clothing was not stained or soiled like so many survivors and vamps I had seen before, if anything it was nicer than anything most mares I’ve met had ever worn, the Masters seemed to live quite well. She would have been beautiful in life.

I turned away, feeling a sigh escape me. I was used to killing, had been doing so for a long time, just not other ponies. This outbreak was turning good beings into monsters, I found myself wondering how many more of the Sister’s loyal subjects would have to die to save the innocent.

I bowed my head to pray to the Sisters, but nothing came to mind. I wanted to ask that they guide these ponies’ souls to a better place away from all this, but part of me was starting to doubt the possibility… Prayer that used to be a comforting and fulfilling part of my daily routine was beginning to take on a hollow ring. I used to feel them listening, feel a sort of comforting warmth. Now it felt like I was whispering in a frozen void…

I spent the next hour or so wandering around outside, scouting and assessing the damage done to the forest, several trees had been shot and scratched. Most of them would likely die from the damage, but plants had always surprised me with their durability. Sometimes a tree snapped in half by the wind would have a new sapling growing from its trunk within a year.

I spotted the remains of the unlucky Bat Patches had shot, one of the two we let go. Just like the others, there was a large scorched patch of grass and blood. I could see a several foot long trail of blood left in the wake of the round, it was easily twice as long as I was tall. The Bats never seemed to leave much behind when they died.

By the time I got back to Patches’ house the trio had wrapped up their morning ‘exercise’ and Patches was making breakfast. Bryon and Daisy were seated at the table that was made for creatures the size of Patches. I felt like a little colt sitting at an adult’s table when I took a chair.

Patches passed an apple from the counter to Daisy who proceeded to toss it to me. “Morning Alex! Didja sleep well?” She asked with a smile.

I must have had an incredulous look on my face, based on her concerned expression. The three of them had moved on from the previous night’s events already, like it was commonplace. Yet I still felt somewhat shaken by them.

Back in the desert I was used to risking my life on a daily basis, but the monsters I faced there were different, alien. The ones here were far too relatable for my taste. Every time I saw one I couldn’t help but see one of my own, a twisted victim of a cruel turn of fate. I couldn’t help but hope that the bitterness I felt toward Changelings would take over for the way I felt toward the Vamps. That hope scared me a little.

“Paging Dr. Alex, you there buddy?” Daisy asked, waving a hand at me.

I quickly shook my head and banished the thoughts from my mind, I’d have a philosophical dilemma later. “I slept alright,” I said cautiously eyeing the two deer. “Were this morning’s events the results of the fever?” My left hand under the table gripped the revolver, not sure if I’d have to shoot my way out of my friend’s house.

Daisy smiled and shook her head. “Of course not, we waited almost three hours and Patches never started a fever!” She looked to Patches. “What did you call it this morning?”

“Morning wood,” Patches answered with a chuckle.

I felt a dumb smile on my face as a chuckle escaped me. Patches could always dissolve a tense situation with a few words. I took a bite of the apple, keeping the revolver close just in case they were telling a practiced lie. Once breakfast was served and Patches had sat down I began my interrogation.

“Alright, mind explaining that whole seeing them in the dark with your wings trick?” I asked, leaning forward over my meal.

“That’s right, I forgot you never use your wings for anything other than slicing something up,” Patches teased as he pointed his fork at me and snickered. “I manipulate the air pressure and send out a wave, when it bounces off of objects and comes back I can ‘hear’ their locations,” he explained, making the quotations gesture with his fingers at the word “hear.”

“So it’s basically echolocation, got it. What about that bullshit with the lightning? How the fuck did you not get fried?” I practically demanded.

“Easy, members of your own family have been known to do it,” he started with an arched eyebrow. “Take a few too many blows to the head while I was gone?” He teased again. “I turned the water in between my feathers into clouds, ionized some trails through them to make a path for the lightning, and let the big cloud up top do the rest!” He said with a smile, crossing his arms.

“So the actual strike from the large cloud in the sky was just lucky timing?” I asked, feeling my eyes widen.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said with a shrug. “Although, I could feel the energy building and knew a strike would be soon, I was just making sure the path of least resistance to discharge said energy was through me,” he said with a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes a little.

“Alright, last question,” I said as Patches scooped a large mouthful of peppers and flatbread from his plate. “How did you manage to avoid getting that crap in your system when you literally showered in that vamp’s entrails?”

“Jeez, just cause I was yelling doesn’t mean I was staring up unto the flow of guts with open eyes and an open mouth!” Patches responded with a hearty laugh. “All I had to do was close my eyes and mouth and look down, the rain washed most of it off my face pretty quickly, and I think the lightning may have vaporized some of it.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” I said as I took another bite of my meal. “Wait… You mentioned knowing this group of vamps and their Master, I’m guessing there’s a story behind that as well?”

Patches nodded slowly as he finished another mouthful of food. “Yeah, ran into a nest while I was scavenging an abandoned factory for scrap metal, they had dug into the tunnels beneath it and made quite the little home for themselves. They tried to fool me into thinking they were a group of survivors hiding underground, minimal light and sound getting out you know? Less to attract a vamp, I almost bought their story too,” he trailed off while staring at the wall.

“What happened?” Daisy asked, leaning forward, the two deer had barely touched their food, enraptured by our discussion and Patches’ storytelling. I made a note that they didn’t know this story, meaning Patches had either witheld it from them, or it was a very recent event.

“One of their prisoners down the hall and around the corner heard them talking to me and started screaming at me, just begging me to run away.” Patches said with a little sigh. “But as you could probably guess by last night’s attack, I didn’t just flee.”

“How many of them did you take out?” Bryon whispered, as if he were afraid he’d disrupt the mood of the story.

“Well the one who had come out to greet me was a Master and started transforming right after the voice finished screaming at me. He knew I was gonna bail before I did, I think. So I did the smart thing and blasted him,” he motioned to his rifle. “The two Gargoyles with him were pretty shocked by the firepower, and probably stunned and deafened by the noise,” he said with a chuckle.

“I can vouch for that,” I mumbled, remembering how the blast from the rifle had demolished my equilibrium for a few moments.

“After taking out the Gargoyles I moved into the tunnels, I couldn’t just leave those prisoners in there you know? I saw some pretty fucked up stuff down there…” He trailed off again, looking down at his nearly empty plate.

Daisy was shifting in her seat, I could tell she wanted to ask what happened next, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. She opted to lean closer to Patches, as if she could stare the rest of the story out of him.

“I took out two more guards on my way to their cells, another Master was down there paying the one who had yelled a ‘visit,’” he grimaced slightly at the images he was recalling. “I wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more, beat her or rape her. One clawed hand was tearing at her, he was biting her and draining a lot of her blood. She was bleeding like crazy, scratches and cuts all over her. Her fur was matted and stained, and whatever clothes she had when they caught her were long gone by the time I arrived. The other two Bats who were supposed to be guarding him were watching and practically drooling. I don’t know which possibility bothers me more, the thought of them wanting to bleed her dry or wanting to join in on the cruelty… I crashed that party of theirs pretty fucking hard. Got a twofer on the Bats and had chambered another round before I even opened the cell. When I got in and got a good look at what he was doing though…” His eyes traced across the table as he searched for words.

“I was so MAD at that Master for what he did, I didn’t even bother shooting him, I felt like he didn’t deserve to die that quickly,” he was looking past us as he told the story, that chill had crept into his voice again, the shine had left his eyes.

“I came into the cell with him and swung my rifle at him like a club. I remember the indignant expression on his face, like he was mad that someone had the gall to interrupt him. You could say I literally wiped the expression off his face with the butt of my rifle,” Patches said with a cold chuckle.

“I didn’t even wait for him to hit the floor before I brought the buttstock down on his head, the impact snapped his horn off. I grabbed him, dropped my rifle and just started breaking him with my hands… It was like pulling a little doll apart… I left him there in a puddle of his own blood, alive and in pain. I got the mare out of her cell and had to leave before I could help the rest of the prisoners. We were getting swarmed and I only got off one more shot through the hallway to get out. Got a two-for-one on the bullet though,” he mused with a little smile.

“I hope you remembered to stomp on his dick while you were at it,” I murmured.

“And the mare you rescued?” Daisy asked.

“I spent over a week nursing her back to health,” he said with a little sigh. “They had gotten her addicted to that venom they use to turn people to vamps and she was going through the most horrible withdrawals. I thought she was going to die, she barely ate, she was running a constant fever and was very dehydrated, she shook like a leaf in a strong breeze all hours of the day and night. I could tell her entire body was in pain, then one day she coughed up this vile looking liquid and began to stabilize. Then one morning she just got up and left, I wanted her to stay and make sure she had recovered but she insisted that I had already done too much for her. I did convince her to take enough supplies to last until she made it to the next town,” he finished with a shrug and half a smile.

“When did all of this happen?!” Daisy asked incredulously. “We were here three weeks ago!”

“She left about five days ago,” Patches replied calmly.

Not much else was said that morning as we finished our meals. I offered to help Patches clean up the mess outside before I left to continue my mission, he was pretty happy to have the help. We ended up burning the parts left that could be burnt and Patches smashed the stone Gargoyles with a hammer, leaving the stone dust and rocks along the river, mixed with the rocks already there.

“They fit in quite nicely here don’t they?” Patches asked, I could tell he didn’t expect an answer, it was more of an invitation to just rest a moment and take in the scenery, so I did just that.

I sat by the river and watched the water flow by, there was a gentle breeze blowing through the forest as well and it carried the smell of blood away. For just a small moment I was able to relax and just forget about all the shit that had happened. It was a beautiful little moment of peace. Patches leaned on the handle of his hammer and looked to the sky, his eyes following a little puff of cloud.

I rose with a little sigh and looked at Patches. “I have to leave, I need to report back to the Sisters for orders,” his brow furrowed a little at my words.

“Damn it Alex, the Sisters aren’t ‘the Sisters’ anymore,” he said with a huff of irritation. “Celestia is DEAD ok? I know you don’t want to believe it but she got turned into one of those monsters and Luna cut her head off! They keep her ashes in the fucking throne room,” he finished, quickly looking away.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” I replied as calmly as I could. I could feel the icy chill of adrenaline charging through my body, grief, anger, a little panic. I wanted to beat the shit out of Patches, to tell him he was wrong, or lying but I just didn’t hear that subtle tone in his voice I always did when he lied.

“Alex I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he said quietly. “I just don’t want you fooling yourself any longer. The sooner you embrace the truth of the situation the better,” he finished softly, like a parent consoling an upset child.

The tone pissed me off even more, but if he was right then I had no reason to be mad at him, just upset at the entire situation. I took a deep breath and sighed. “Alright Patches, that doesn’t change the fact that I swore an oath to serve both of the Sisters. If Luna indeed rules alone, I must report to her.”

“She doesn’t want to have anything to do with anypony that isn’t one of her night guard, you know, those Batponies?” He mentioned with a little sigh. “There’s a good chance there’s nothing there for you.”

“In the same breath I also swore to protect Equestria and her citizens, all of the Sisters’ loyal subjects.” I reminded him. “If she will not have anything to do with me, I can still dedicate myself to the protection of the innocent,” I finished.

“Loyal to a fault, every last one of you Rustwings,” Patches said with a chuckle. “If your heart really is set on protecting the innocent why don’t you help me clear out that nest? In return I’ll cover your ass the rest of the way to Canterlot. Because let’s face it, you’d be dead without me to watch your back,” he said with a wink and a smile.

Damn it Patches. “I suppose that could work, when will you be ready to leave?” I asked, having very little to carry with me in the first place.

“Give me an hour, you can go ahead and take off,” he said as he pointed in the direction of the nest. “I’ll catch up with you. I’ll also pack some stuff for you, you’re traveling way too light and if you get stuck out in a place with no food or water too long I don’t think its the vamps that’ll get you,” he said as he started toward his house.

“I’ll see you on the trail then!” I called as I journeyed out of the clearing and into the woods.

“I really am sorry for upsetting you!” He called from the distance as I moved deeper into the woods.

“I forgive you, my friend.”