Fallout Equestria: Amnesia

Tears welled up in my eyes and I shut them tight from the onslaught of dirt and sand being blown by the wind into them. Before I had been blinded by nature, I had seen a landscape of horrors; a stretched rocky place, littered with the dead skeletons of trees and warped metal debris that had once been water towers.

I had come out of the front door of the Bloodmane Facility to find a huge boulder just sitting in front of it, blocking it from outside view. A little bit of effort and thankfulness for my small frame allowed me to squeeze past it, only to immediately be assaulted by the rough winds.

“Well, we are up in the more mountainous regions of Equestria,” Moss Stone pointed out from my PipBuck's speaker when I had expressed my discomfort, “The elevation and shape of these mountains makes the wind viscous and almost unrelenting.”

“How'd you know that?” I asked, trying to hold one hoof over my eyes to block some of the heavy winds.

“This PipBuck has a built-in copy of 'The Wasteland Survival Guide: Friedrichshorfen Edition.' I'm just directly quoting the page on wind dangers.” He pointed out cheerily. Huh, I wondered what else it had built into it? Before I could question it further, something else came up in my mind.

“Friedrich... What?” I asked, the name ringing some sort of bell that I just couldn't put my hoof on.

“Friedrichshorfen! It's a major city just south of here, let me see what the Guide has to say about it...” Moss told me, “Friedrichshorfen was one of the only cities in Equestria that focused almost entirely on firepower! Trading their large supply of gold deposits to Stalliongrad, they used their wealth to help the Ministry of Wartime Technology produce top grade weapons!”

Ministry of what-now?

“Everypony who called themselves a citizen was required to own a firearm, and ammunition was dead cheap! It was almost directly hit on it's south side by a balefire megaspell, but over the years the radiation has died down. Today, Friedrichshorfen is split into two sides; The north and south districts. The south-side is run by the infamous group calling themselves the P.A.Z.I, while the north-side is made up of tons of rival gangs fighting for control thanks to all the guns left behind!” Moss took a deep breath after his spiel, although somehow I felt it was for dramatic effect rather then any actual need for oxygen

“What's... what's the Ministry of Wartime Technology?” I asked, again surprised by the sense of familiarity the name brought me.

“Uhm,” Said Moss, sounding momentarily lost, “It's... Let me see...” I heard the sound of papers shuffling from my PipBuck. “Huh, I can't find very much information on it. All I got is that it was some sort of pre-war company.

Disappointed, I moved onto my next question, “What about the P.A.Z.I? Anything in there about that?” Unlike the other two, the name hadn't really meant anything special to me, but I was still curious.

“The P.A.Z.I,” Moss intoned, as if reading from a script, “Abbreviation for the Ponies Against Zebra Influences, which apparently was a pre-war organization in Friedrichshorfen that helped regulate gun control in the city. Apparently the name is today used by a group of terrorists operating out of the irradiated areas of the city. They seem to be largely neutral unless provoked. Or if you have something they want.” Didn't exactly sound like the best group of ponies around, that was for certain.

I took my hoof away to look at my PipBuck, which was a mistake as my eyes were ones again hit by flying particles of pain.

“You know, we should probably find something to protect your eyes with.” Moss suggested as I let out a gasp of pain, “We're not exactly going to make it very far if you can't see where you're going.”

I stumbled forward, trying to walk with my eyes open as little as possible. The rough rocky ground felt rough against my hooves as I occasionally stepped on a jagged rock, giving me reason to let out a slight whimper. I was finding I didn't like pain very much.

“I'm picking up a building on the radar just to the north of here,” Moss said after what felt like an hour of walking, “Let's take shelter in there until the wind dies down.” Grateful, I broke into a quick trot in the direction I was informed was north. Even with my squinted sight, I could make out the shadow of a building in the distance. It was rather large, maybe three stories and containing many wings. As I got closer, I could make out it was made of thick concrete, the few blown-out windows overlooking a rather large parking station filled with the wrecks of carriages.

Weaving my way through them, I slowed as I approached the front door swinging wide in the wind. It was thick and wooden, with a cracked sign that read 'Welcome to Selten Clothiers'. What caught my attention about this door, however, was that it was riddled with bullet holes.

“It's probably nothing,” Moss assured me as I relayed my observations to him, “You'd be hard put to find something that's not riddled with bullet-holes in the Wasteland.” He didn't sound very confident.

Stepping into the building and closing the door behind me, I felt immediate relief as the onslaught against my coat died, allowing me to properly open my eyes and observe my environment. The main lobby of Selten Clothiers was spacious, filled with knocked over racks of rotten cloth and mouldy lumps that may have once been beautiful hats. Dominating the centre of the room was a large donut-shaped desk with the skeletons of a number of ponies sitting around monitors.

I walked up the the nearest skeleton, feeling a twinge of pity as I pushed it off it's chair, causing it to clatter loudly against the floor. I took it's seat and stared at the monitor, which prompted me for the password.

“It needs to be hacked,” Moss told me, “Unless you want to ask one of these skeletons to tell you it.”

“How the heck do I do that?” I asked, befuddled. Hello, pony who just woke up from bliss a few hours ago? Not exactly skilled with computers.

Moss let out a metallic sigh, “Plug me into a with my USB cord.”

“Your what now?” I asked, looking over the thing on my arm with confusion.

“The thing that looks like a duck,” He pointed out, allowing it to catch my eye immediately. I pushed the duck's beak into a slot shaped perfectly for it around the side of the monitor. My PipBuck screen lit up with a host of letters and numbers, some of which formed words, “Alright, one of these is the password.”

“How do I know which one is the right one?” I asked, feeling my heart sink at the sheer number of options.

“Guess,” Moss said. I could almost hear his shrug.

“Dress?” I guessed, tapping the corresponding word on the screen.

Nothing.

“Celestia?” I tried, once again with no avail.

“Only one try left before it catches on and locks me out,” Moss worriedly said as 'Muffins' failed to work either. I looked back down at the list and one of the words caught my eye. It was a simple, six letter word that was no more unique then all the others, yet seeing it made my heart jump for a second.

“Rarity.” The monitor beeped as I hit the word, displaying a welcome message and a number of missed alerts. I unplugged the PipBuck and tapped the first message.

Cherry,

You'll never guess what I heard! I was just getting a drink from the fountain when I saw the boss talking to his secretary secretively. I 'overheard' that a 'special somepony' is coming here for a 'inspection'. I bet it's one of the Ministry Mares! I know how much you've always wanted to meet them, so I thought I'd let you know so you can keep your camera handy!

Reading the message of a long-dead pony mollified me a little bit, and I felt bad for simply tossing her skeleton to the floor. I tapped into the next message.

Cherry,

I can't imagine you chose NOW to go on a vacation, right in the heat of the war! You know how suspicious that looks, and I don't want the Ministry of Morale breaking down your door, or worse, the P.A.Z.I!

Please, Cherry, come back to work! I don't think I can keep getting through these depressing days without you to crack jokes about the boss!

Well, there was a name-drop for another so-called 'ministry', and my curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. I tapped open the third and final message, this one full of spelling and grammar mistakes, obviously written in a rush.

To anyone reading this,

I'm sending this message out from Selten Clothers, Friedichsofen just got hit by a megaspel! Swet Celstia we could see the rxplodion from here! The shockwave shock the hole store, and a one of teh lights came down ontop of Cherry! I think... I think she's dead! It was her fist day back from her vacation too! Somepony, anypony, Help us!

I turned off the monitor silently, the screen going black but the words of horror forever burned into my mind. Slowly, I lifted myself out of the chair, numbly hearing Moss Stone saying something, and looked back down at the pony skeleton.

Her body lay completely devoid of flesh, but that didn't hide the bullet hole going clear through her temple. I slowly lifted her back into the chair, trying to position her in the same position in which I had thrown her off of it.

I looked back at the bullet ridden door, which was directly to the right of where she was sitting. Questions flashed across my mind, but before any could be formed into rational thought the sour voice of Moss Stone interrupted my thoughts.

“Are you even listening to me?” He accused, sounding a tad hurt.

“What?” I said, shaking my head in an attempt to relieve the daze I was in. As quick as they had formed, the questions dispelled into nothingness.

“I said you should check the second floor for anything,” He muttered, “You know, something to protect your face from the wind?”

“Right...” I said, slowly. I stumbled towards the spiral staircase that led into the ceiling that I had failed to notice before. It creaked under me as I climbed it, but held strong until I made it to the top. This second floor was much smaller then the one below had been, but seemingly with just as much crammed into it. Racks of clothing and shelves lined the walls, rotten curtains led to long forgotten changing rooms, on the far side of the room was another stairwell, this one straight, that led up to a wooden door.

I only spent a few minutes on the second floor before I headed for the other stairs, unable to find anything that wasn't rotted or damaged. I climbed the stairs, feeling an odd sense of trepidation as I approached the door. It was surrounded by a purple frame, with golden twirls and loops around it.

I pulled on the handle, and found to my dismay that the door was locked. I looked around both fruitlessly and pointlessly for the key. Wherever it may once have been, it was long gone now. I sat down on my haunches, staring at the door sadly.

“Why don't you just zap it open?” Moss Stone said, breaking my disappointment, “Like you did with the door. That amount of force should be plenty to knock if off it's hinges, especially if it hasn't seen maintenance in the last couple hundred years.”

I trotted back down to the bottom of the stairs, turned around, and aimed my horn for the door. A moment of worry struck me; What if I couldn't do it again? What if I damaged what was behind the door by accident? What if I hurt myself?

I found the urge to see what was behind the door much more powerful then these thoughts, as I let power flow into my horn, and let it go.

ZAP!

Much weaker than the first one, but non-the-less powerful, the bolt of black lightning shot out from the tip of my horn, crashing into the door followed by a sickening crack of thunder. That was new!

The door simply shimmered for a minute before bursting into open black flames, causing me to jump. Unlike a real fire, however, the fire did not spread, and turned the door to ash after but a few moments.

“Wow.” Moss Stone said, quietly. “I'd be more careful with that if I were you, I felt the static charge from here!”

I stared at the pile of black ash where the door used to be, into the room beyond as I climbed back up the stairs. It was an office of sorts, with a few filing cabinets, a desk with a monitor, and a safe built into the wall. I stepped up to the monitor and found to my joy that it had no password. I tabbed through the entries and hit the most recent one.

It's the P.A.Z.I! First, a megaspell hits the city, and the whole of Equestria goes to shit, but now we've got soldiers trying to break down our door?

What the hell did we even do!? We're just a clothing boutique, and for that matter, the P.A.Z.I should be protecting us, not opening fire on our doors!

Oh Celestia, I think I heard the door break in. Shit shit shit! Fuck, well I'm not letting them get anything of value, I'm locking my office from the inside!

I can hear them muttering outside my door. I think they already killed everypony downstairs, dear gods...

Wait... I think I hear them leaving! As soon as their gone I'm getting the fuck out of here before they come back!

I looked up at the locked door. It was locked from the inside, but... there was no skeleton or anything left in here. I trotted over to the safe, the mystery giving me headache, to find to my frustration that it was locked too! I knew trying to blast it open would just destroy the contents, if the door was any example.

Instead, I turned my attention to the filing cabinets. Rifling through them, I found nothing but a dusty old folder. A lone not slipped out of it as I picked it up.

Dear Director of Selten Clothiers,

Despite how busy I am with Ministry issues, I'm more then happy to visit your store since you put so many of my favourite dresses on display! I even have a special gift for you, it's something that I no longer have any need for, but I dare not give it to anypony who can't appreciate it. Who better then the nephew of Photo Finish? You'll enjoy it immensely I assure you, so be excited! I'll see you as soon as I have free time.

Sincerely,

Rarity.

I leaned down to pick the note back up, when something caught my eye. I hadn't noticed it until now, but taped to the underside of the desk a glint of gold flashed. I trotted over, the note forgotten as I felt under the desk until my prize fell free. It was the key!

I almost ran to the safe, sticking the key into position and turning, my heart fluttering as the satisfying 'click' filled my ears.

Inside was a few items; a purse filled with small gold coins, a pair of saddle-bags, a large pair of fashionable but practical glasses. The prize of the safe caught my eye, folded carefully and lovingly in the back. I picked it up and let it unfold, staring at the beautiful striped pink scarf.

* * *

The wind grew worse as the hours past, and what little light was let in from the smashed windows began to fade with the approach of night. Moss Stone had suggested that we set up for the night, considering the storm wasn't likely to calm until morning. The store sadly had a distinct lack of bedding, and as night rolled around I found myself lying on a pile of rotted scraps that had once probably been beautiful attire.

I took one last look around the store. The walls were not enough to keep out the sound of furious winds slapping into the building, and wisps of dust and cool night air blew in through the smashed windows, giving me a shudder. The skeletons of long dead ponies slept eternally, forever free from their torment.

In my mind's eye, I could picture the store how it must have once been. I looked down at the skeletons at the desk, and saw rather bored looking ponies serving customers, receiving bits and giving a cheery farewell. Beautiful dresses and suits hung on pristine silver racks around the store, being perused by both the high-class socialites as well as just your average pony.

To my left, a young but very fashionable stallion with a bow-tie for a cutie mark came down the stairs that led to his office, observing the store with pride. He trotted over to where I was, looking down at his workers as they served with less then enthusiasm.

He turned to me, looking at the pink scarf that I had wrapped around my neck for warmth.

“Hey, that's mine!”

And as soon as he finished, the entire store around me returned to it's destroyed state, the ponies within vanishing with any knowledge of their future fate. I stared at the spot where the Stallion had talked to me, confused.

Assuring myself that I was imagining things, I curled up and tried to bring myself to sleep in the rough bedding I had made for sleeping. Just before the darkness overcame me, I reached out with my magic, pulling the scarf closer, unsure why but sure non-the-less that it was the most important thing I owned.

* * *

“Wake up, my little pony.” A soft, lovingly cool voice whispered in my ear. I felt a muzzle press into the side of my face, giving me a nudge of encouragement. I opened my eyes, looking up at the tall form of my mother, smiling down at me, somehow achieving pure beauty through the rags she wore as clothing.

I got to my hooves, looking around at the small shack with a hastily formed fire in the middle of the floor, surrounded by three sleeping bags. It wasn't much, but it was still my home.

No, our home.

“Your father just went out to catch something for breakfast,” My mother told me, pushing my mane out of my eyes with her horn, “Go outside and wash up, Violet, it's been a while since you've gotten a good cleaning.”

I didn't like bathing, but I didn't have nearly enough willpower to refuse the kind face of my mother. I stepped outside into the early morning, unable to see the sun through the thick cloud cover, and stepped around to the back of our shack to the small puddle that had formed there.

I stared back at the reflection of a young purple filly with a orange mane looking back at me. I was certainly dirty, I had to give my mother that, and without further hesitation I threw myself into the puddle and began to roll around, letting it wash away the dirt that matted itself in my coat.

A deep and kind laugh fell into my ears as I shook myself dry, and looking up I spotted my father with a large dead rabbit slung over his back, smiling down at me. He simply continued to chuckle as I ran up to hug him, trying to show off how clean I was for once.

“You missed a spot,” He said, putting a hoof on my forehead to point at the tips of my mane.

“Daaaaad,” I moaned, “You know that my hair is always red at the tips!” I stomped my hoof, “It's not my fault!”

He simply replied with another chuckle that made the world just seem like a better place, and ruffled my hair, “I know, sweetheart. I'm just playing with you.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead, “Come now, let's go cook this up and have some breakfast.”

He trotted around the shacks, and I heard the faint sounds of him conversing with my mother, but I was too distracted to pay any attention. As I slowly rounded the shack, I felt incredible joy that I was here with the two greatest ponies in the Wasteland, my parents.

* * *

“Violet!” Hissed Moss Stone, “Wake up!”

I awoke with a start, in an incredibly good mood but not sure why. I had been having the most wonderful dream about... something. I tried to think, but it was like trying to catch water with a strainer as the dream blinked into non-existence.

“Stay down!” Moss whispered at me as I began to sit up, a layer of severe urgency playing his voice, “There are raiders in here!”

Fear struck me. Moss Stone had earlier told me the Wasteland Survival Guide's view on bandits, how they would raid settlements and towns indiscriminately, killing and raping their way to whatever supplies they could steal. It was even said they sometimes ate their victims when they had nothing left to go on, sometimes even while the victim was still alive.

I slowly rolled onto my stomach, peering around the rack that kept me hidden from most of the store. I saw two of the raider ponies, and the built in Eyes Forward Sparkle spell that was in my PipBuck told me that there was four more on the floor below.

I had no weapon, no armor, and no means of defending myself should these raider ponies find me. Horrifying images of what would happen to me should they find me filled my mind, giving me incentive to crawl back behind the fallen rack.

One of the raider ponies kicked a can across the room, giggling in his mad tone, “Hehehe, lot's of pretty ponies this far south, yes...” I could hear him lick his lips, as he looked at his friend, “You sure there's someone in here? I'm getting hungry...”

I felt my heart skip a beat as the second pony replied, “Of course! There are hoof prints leading in, but none leading out! Our little morsel is in here somewhere...”

Oh Celestia, they were going to eat me! I looked around me for something to defend myself with, but found myself surrounded by nothing but rotten cloth. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead as realization that I was going to die filled my mind.

“Your magic, Violet.” Moss whispered from my PipBuck, causing me to jump in fright. The two raider ponies turned my way at the sound, their dirt-ridden blood caked faces lighting up into grins. One pulled out pistol, pointing it at me while the other slowly advanced.

“There you are, babycakes!” He teased, causing a shiver to go up my spine that had nothing to do with the cold, “Looks like we got ourselves a mare this time.” He looked back at his companion, who began to nod vigorously. “It's like a dream come true. We get to eat our cake, and fuck it!”

Unimaginable hatred crashed into my heart as if carried by a thousand-pound weight, and black-lightning shot out of my horn without even waiting for me to build up power. The lightning jerked across the room, smacking into the chest of the raider pony approaching me, and jumping from the end of his tail across the rest of the way into the face of the pony with the gun.

The first raider fell into a twitching mass, while the second pony's face turned into jelly around his gun as he fell to the floor, dead. The noise didn't go unheard by the remaining raiders below, who immediately began to scramble up the stairs, firing wild shots before even being able to see me.

Thinking fast, I lunged across the room to the raider with the melted face, snatching up the pistol from the remains of what had once been his mouth, and aimed for the stairs. A head came into view from the stairs, holding a length of steel-pipe in it's pony-devouring mouth.

BANG!! BANG!!

The sound of the shots of my pistol cracked through the air, while the ten-millimetre rounds themselves buried themselves into the raider's head, who proceeded to tumble back down the stairs. Shouts ranging from shock to anger came from the other three as their comrade snuffed it. I wasted no time in bolting forward to the top of the stairs and aiming down at the three--

--And stopped time.

I was shocked at first, as I saw everything around me had frozen-- no, not frozen, just slowed down to a ridiculous level.

“This is S.A.T.S, the Stable Assisted Targeting Spell,” Moss informed, apparently not frozen with the rest of the world, “I kicked it into action since you seem to be oblivious to it. It allows you to target specific body parts and tells you the chance you'll hit them.”

“How in Tatarus does it do that?” I asked in disbelief.

“No time to explain, just shoot them already!” Moss urged, and I lined up the rest of the clip at their heads, helpfully being informed only about half my shots were likely to make it. Time returned to normal as I fired the shots, the first two raiders managed to come out unscathed, but the third received three bullets across his neck and chin, felling him.

Suddenly, incredible pain burst from my foreleg and I let out a gasp of agony. One of the raiders had fired the shotgun rigged to a saddle he wore (which I would later know as a 'battle-saddle') and the spread of hot lead had peppered itself across my left leg. I fell to my knees as the two raiders approached, taking sharp intakes of breath and clenching my eyes to hide back the tears.

“Dumb cunt killed Smudger!” One growled angrily, as he pressed the barrel of his shotgun against the top of my bowed head. “Let's blow her fuckin' brains out, right here!”

“Or we could sell her!” The other one suggested, gleefully.

“Hey! I told you we ain't no slavers!”

“Black Tooth, I don't give a shit! So what you were a slave once upon a time, this is different!”

“Fuck you, I ain't selling anypony to those fucking pricks, let alone this cunt.” He gestured down at where I used to be.

Both raiders stopped and stared at the empty space in front of them, just in time for looks of horror to cross their faces as they erupted into black flames.

Their screams filled the early morning air.

It was music to my ears.