Fallout: Equestria - Memories of a Caravaneer

Chapter 1: Like A Bullet To Your Brain

“Truth is, the game was rigged from the start.”

The sun beat down on me as I moved my pack bramin Ol’ Bessie through the Southern Equestrian Wasteland. We were on our way to a town called New Dodge Junction, and ever since we’d left my home in Hayston all we’d seen was sand for miles. My parents named me Renegade, on account of my rebellious behavior. I’m your typical unicorn stallion, with a red coat and a black mane. I have brown eyes, and my cutie mark is a map, which shows my talent for finding unusual things. Where was I? Oh right. My story.  As we were wandering around, Bessie spoke up.

“Renegade?” she asked.

“Yeah?” I replied, having been lost in my thoughts.

“I think we’re lost.”

“Well, what happened to the damn map?!?” I asked, a bit panicked.

“I think you lost it.”

This angered me. “Oh, so now because I lost the fucking map, that automatically makes us lost?” I shouted.

“Yes.” my mutant bovine companion replied

“Pretty intelligent for you to say, considering you’re a cow.”

Immediately, Bessie’s look changed from one of worry to a look of anger. “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” she shouted.

As the two of us began to argue, neither myself or Bessie noticed something, or should I say, somepony, coming nearby us.

Suddenly, I heard a rather hoarse (no pun intended) voice fall onto my ears.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” the voice cackled in a high-pitched tone.  I turned around to see who had spoken. “Oh shit…” I muttered when I saw who it was.

The pony in question appeared to be a raider. Specifically, an earth pony raider. He seemed to be rather short, and I could have sworn he was a colt, if not for the bits of facial hair on his muzzle.  His fur was almost a beige color, and his mane was a dirty black, just like his cold, soulless eyes.  “COME ON OUT, BOYS! WE’VE GOT OURSELVES A PRIZE!” he shouted out to seemingly no one.

Just as I was about to laugh and call him an idiot, several other stallions about Shorty’s height, came from out of nowhere. ‘This one’s gonna be easy to kill…” a lime green Pegasus stallion said.

“Damn it, Green Grape, we ain’t gonna kill him…not yet.” Shorty retorted.

“Then what are we gonna do?” Green Grape asked as two other stallions, also Earth ponies, held me down.

“We’re gonna make him remember our name. AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT OUR NAME IS, BOY?’ the beige stallion shouted at me. I simply whimpered in terror.

“We’re the Shorties. Fittin’, seeing as we ain’t taller than a colt.” Shorty continued, drawing a few knives in one hoof, and a weathered .9mm in the other.  After tossing the knives to his cronies, Shorty got on top of me and loaded the pistol.

“Kill the cow.” He ordered. “And make him watch.” He finished, a sadistic grin on his face.  “No…” I muttered as the raiders robbed me of my cargo and slaughtered the only real friend I had since I was a colt. As I felt the tears welling up in a mixture of sadness and anger, the midget on my chest grinned. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet. ‘Cause we’re gonna make sure you wished you was never born.” He said, loading the gun and pointing it at me. “Trust me. It’ll feel like a bullet to your brain.” He then pulled the trigger.

“You…bastard…” I strained to say as everything went black.