The learning curve

Turning the door-handle was probably one of the most tense moments of his life, and that probably has to be the first time anyone in the history of mankind has ever said that opening a door was a tense situation. It twisted with a high pitched squealing that reminded him of sneaking around his house at night an trying not to wake his parents and he could hear the nervous, ragged breaths of the mare behind him. His right arm was outstretched and his hand held a semi-automatic pistol in its grasp, ready for anything that may be on the other side. The handle was now pointing directly downward at the floor and the door was free to open. He let out a deep breath and swung the door open. As it turned on its hinges he dropped down to a crouch and his left hand joined the right to provide back-up for taking the recoil if he had to fire.

Stood at the door was a cream coated mare with a rosy-coloured mane and tail that had a suspiciously fake smile on its face. It's amber eyes shifted to the barrel of the pistol that was aimed at its head and it glanced at it for a second before it returned it's attention to him. There was a moment of silence as the pony at the door stared at him and he considered putting the gun down, he remembered this pony as one of the ones that was part of the relentless questioning he had been exposed to ever since he arrive. It was taking a while for him to think about it as he tried to come to a conclusion about why there was a pony stood at the door in the middle of the night. Back in Canterlot, he learned about the changelings that could disguise itself as a pony in order to get close to other ponies and feed of their love, maybe this was a changeling in disguise in order to feed from Fluttershy or something. However he had just been woken up after only being asleep for twenty minutes, so he was not in the best of moods for thinking. Eventually he decided to talk to her, see if she was legitimately a pony here for help or something.

"Who are you?" He snapped quickly at the mare standing in-front of him.

"My name's Rose Luck. I haven't seen you before, are you new here?" The expression on it's face was obviously one of confusion, but there was something of about it. If an alien organism shows up in your town then that generally wouldn't be something you would just forget. Especially when you have had direct contact with it at least once.

"Why are you here?" He said bluntly, still pointing the pistol at the mares head.

"I'm here to see Fluttershy, is she in?" The pony tried to peer around him to try and look for Fluttershy but he blocked the entire door-way. The mare hadn't told him exactly why she was here which rang bells in his mind, she was hiding something.

"You didn't answer my question so i'll ask again, why are you here?" The mare seemed to grow a little aggravated and she looked to her side and her eyes focused on something else. And last time he checked, there was nothing at that side of the door-way other than walls and windows. He lined up his sights on the mare and half squeezed the trigger in preparation for a shot.

The pony seemed to nod and then turned it's eyes back to him, but if he wasn't mistaken there was a look in it's eyes that was less than friendly and patient like he could remember the questioner being. It carried a monotonous note of evil and deception that struck a chord of realization into his mind.

The pony leaped at him and the resulting jump it gave him caused his finger to twitch and pull the trigger.  A 9mm bullet was blasted fourth from the barrel and borrowed into the front of it's skull and it fell limp onto the ground. The body was suddenly enveloped in a sort of green flame that covered it's entire body, burning away the illusion of Rose Luck and replacing it with the Jet black husk of a changeling. He stared at the corpse for a second until another pony rushed into view, it was quite clearly a very angry and un-unusually battle ready Fluttershy. He turned around and saw the real Fluttershy still cowering in the corner of the room for confirmation, but this was a mistake as he returned to the impostor knocking the pistol out of his hands. It went flying onto the couch and lay to rest, waiting to be picked up again.

The bug threw a hook-punch at him, but the move's slow speed allowed him to intercept and parry it. Throwing the momentum to the side left the changeling open for a counter-attack, so he launched himself out of his crouch and front-kicked it in the face. Then from above the door another attacker flew through and pushed out with it's forelegs while travelling, throwing him onto the couch with a loud 'thud'.

He remembered the pistol landing right were he was resting and could feel it underneath his ribs. Recovering it by fumbling under his torso, he raised it. Aiming with one hand, he managed to get a shot on the approaching enemy before it could ready a move and blew a hole through it's over-sized glowing eye ball and into it's brain. It toppled over, revealing it's true form in a green blaze just like the first one.

Another bug rushed into the building on a careless frontal assault, not expect to meet its demise as it's a bullet was fired into its chest, making it keel over in pain. He stood up from the couch and executed it by firing another round into the top of its head, killing it quickly and swiftly.

There was silence for a second as he steadied his breathing and struck glances at the dead creatures strew about the floor. Why wasn't he ashamed of killing these creatures? It was a similar feeling to killing the soldiers back home, except this felt more justified as he was attacked first. But the main guilt of ending several lives lingered at the back of these emotions.The quiet was broken by the sudden out-burst of hysterical crying from nearby, and he picked up his head. Fluttershy was curled up in the corner and the first thing that came to mind was just how terrified she looked. Her eyes were clouded over and she shivered violently shaking the drawers that sat next to her, creating the noise of object rattling around in top of them.

He rushed over to her and sat down, reducing his size to look less intimidating. He placed a hand on top of her head and she responded by looking up at him with misty eyes. Her sobs and whimpers continued to fill the air as their eyes met, but then she looked away at the dead bodies and grimaced, closing her eyelids and lowering her ears. He stroked her mane and shushed her crying while attempting to calm her down. However she continued to cry so he decided to speak to her.

"Fluttershy its okay, I'm here." He spoke softly and gave her pink mane a few more strokes of motion before shuffling up close to her and resting her head on his lap. They stayed like that for a moment before she re-opened her eyes and slowly lifted her head. Her eyes looked past him though, staring worriedly at something back towards the door.

He followed her gaze to find the changeling he kicked getting back up from its concussion. He rested the crying mares head back on the ground and stood up to his full height once again to meet the recovering attacker. They locked eyes for a second as the two fighters stood in a Mexican stand-off.

He then walked towards the bug and it returned his speed, matching his posture and approaching him in the same way, creating a twisted quadrupedal mirror image of the biped. They circled each other, waiting for their opponent to attack, and they completed a full 360 while thinking about his move and a counter attack if it failed. Once he had one, he launched himself at his foe by stabbing at it with his bayonet. It made a skillful dodge and jabbed at his ribs, but he blocked it and punched it in the same spot where his kick landed earlier. It screamed in pain and he grabbed it's foreleg, swinging it into the wall where he lodged the outside of his foot under it's head and pinned it against the wall.

It struggled under the pressure of a boot pushing at it's throat, wheezing to get air into it's lungs. It writhed and twisted to free itself, but when a pistol was pointed at it's head it stopped and stared into the barrel, accepting it's fate. A flash of light and a bullet later, a spraying of blood was left on the wall behind where it's head was pinned, and he let the lifeless body fall to the floor.

He turned to the doorway again to find the Princess Twilight Sparkle staring at him with pupils the size of pin-pricks and her jaw wide open in shock...

Turning the door-handle was probably one of the most tense moments of his life, and that probably has to be the first time anyone in the history of mankind has ever said that opening a door was a tense situation. It twisted with a high pitched squealing that reminded him of sneaking around his house at night an trying not to wake his parents and he could hear the nervous, ragged breaths of the mare behind him. His right arm was outstretched and his hand held a semi-automatic pistol in its grasp, ready for anything that may be on the other side.

He stopped for a second and examined the situation. Something seemed awfully familiar about it and it struck a disturbing sense of 'De ja vu' into his mind. He thought about what was happening. What was happening? When did it happen? Why? Wait...

He *thought*...

The room began to collapse into itself as the fabric of the dream shifted into a new shape. Ominous yellows and greens broke down into a colourless abyss and sank away before being replaced by grays and blacks. Indoor turned outdoor, and he found himself standing atop a cut-away in the cliff-side with the cool nigh-time surroundings painting a dark picture across the landscape. Looking around, he sighed and leaned backwards and cracking his spine as he did so.

The dream world inside his scrambled psyche had been re-playing those moments from the previous night on a loop, torturing his brain with the deaths of those he had killed. Every bullet felt like a tidal wave in his emotions, bombarding his subconscious with the harsh reality of taking a life. So many people affected by one life, by killing those three changelings he may have caused distress and depression to countless others.

Ben sat down at the cliff edge and dangled his legs over the huge space below. He rested his face in his palms and started to sob quietly. What had he been thinking back home? How could he let his crappy life drive him to murder? These were the questions he pondered in his mind, exploring the deep depths of his own twisted insanity. Nothing in the past made sense, none of it. And because of this, there was nothing to use for the future.