The Memory Spill

I was moved to a different cell after I recovered in the medical wing last week. The guards explained that ponies with ‘power’ receive special treatment. I suppose the treatment was not only a reward for helping kill so many ponies, but as a tribute to keep me from organizing an accident for my least favorite guards. I could’ve ran the entire operation from my old cell, but it is nice not having hidden pegasi observe you at all hours of the night.

Along with the new cell, I was given the privilege to name and design the emblem for my newest army. The Fire Starters had a flaming arrow for their logo, and the hammer represented the Laborer’s hitponies. Zetito has branded his army with the infamous tribal mask with spears. And now, I am officially the head of The Symphonian Legion. The banner to which my crew bows before is a symbol of an solid black hand with a treble clef carved in the palm. It is with this symbol that I will lead my army to glory. The my crew banner was hung upon the wall above my desk.

My new cell was much nicer. Twelve feet in all three dimensions of solid concrete bricks. The bed was warmer, size was greater, and the accomodations were definitely an improvement from before. The guards were thoughtful enough to give me a writing desk, an actual toilet, and a large array of books from a large display if shelves above my bed. It’s not like I’d read any of them, seeing how their alphabet is virtually impossible to read. The bricks were much stronger than the hollowed out rock in G-block. At first, I thought it was to keep me in. But it turns out that its to keep other ponies out.

The amount of threats I received on a daily bases was astounding. Apparently, Maxwell didn’t enjoy it too much when a good chunk of his hitmen left his side to join my cause. But no matter, Shady had already devised a plan to take him and the other three bosses out of commission. Shady said he’d work inform me on the details later. Once they were gone, I would inherit most of their fighters. It’s obvious that the loyal amount of each crew would be upset at the loss of their bosses. Those loyalists will be taken out of the picture. After that, all that needs to be done is to convince the other thousand ponies to join my cause. I didn’t need all of them, I just need enough to give the guards a run for their money. Anyone who refuses my offer to join my army would be taken out of commision before they could potentially threaten my chances at escape.

Until we could kill Maxwell, we all had our own jobs. Iron was in charge of recruiting, seeing how he had experience as a spokesman anyway. Plus, giving him a large battleaxe to hold while he talks will eliminate the possibility of any hecklers embarrassing us. His job was much more complicated than one would think. Shady made it absolutely clear that we needed to be loyalists to the Symphonian crown. And convincing prisoners to abide the law and fight for anything but Anarchy is not an easy task. Neverless, Iron has proven himself as a fabricator of the highest quality bullshit in all the prison.

Shady was in charge of leading the hitmen. He will organize contracts and ensure that we have satisfactory service. My job is to keep winning in the arena. The more fighters I slay, the more powerful I look. Hence, I’ll have a larger chance of getting more ponies to fight for me. Since I don’t have any ponies who aren’t hitmen, I’ll have to get someone to organize the fighters and other crew, seeing how Shady will be busy handling the assassins.

The first domino has already fallen, and the rest are following in suit. It’s time to see if the rest will follow just as easy.

*****

It’s been two weeks since The Symphonian Legion was organized. My forces have been growing everyday. Iron has temporarily been assigned to organizing the crew and other fighters for my army. I have somewhere around two hundred and fifty enlisted for our cause. Iron managed to enlist ninety or so troops with his tales of glory of the Symphonian empire. The rest of them enlisted after viewing me in the arena. My followers are left idle until the days comes to free ourselves from these shackles.

The guards have been nothing but cooperative with our cause. The story we tell ‘em is that we’re trying to wipe out the other half of the prison population. They were convinced that a large prison wide gang war would dwindle the population and make it easier to control, so the guards allowed us to use special training rooms, a somewhat cramped assembly room, and they gave us better roaming agreements to certain parts of the facility, meaning we were free to wander the entire prison as long as we stayed out of the restricted areas. This would be impossible for the other gangs to achieve. I’m actually surprised myself that they allowed us so many freedoms! It turns out, Shady managed to sneak a few hitmen into the Wardens office for some ‘convincing’. Must’ve bashed his skull in too hard, because now he’s convinced that not helping us is an act of treason.

One of the Freedom’s they allowed us was the “private dining room”. A room close to the guards barracks for safety reasons. It was mainly for special conjugal visits for loved ones. For one large bribe, you too could enjoy a romantic dinner with a long incarcerated love one. This time, I would be renting out the private dining room for a business meeting. I await at the far end of the table. A bottle of carbonated grape juice left uncorked, and a plate on all four sides of the table, waiting for food to grace its presence. A candelabra sat in the center of the table, illuminating the rest of the room. The decor of the brick walls and the aura of flame produced a sex dungeony tone for the night. Maybe that’s what the visits really were; a nice meal followed by a nice shag.

The door opposite to me creaked open, with it came two ponies which then moved to adjacent to me. A third figure made his way through the doorway. It was none other than Maxwell Steedison. He cautiously made his way to the seat opposite of me. He was an old stallion. White, curly hair formed a dome around his head. His coat was a dusty gray color. The broad face of a normal horse was replaced by a more rounded and wrinkled figure. Everything about him just screamed elderly. The bodyguard left of me left his post and pulled the chair back for his boss. Once into position, the chair was moved back into place, with the old horse residing upon it. The bodyguard then returned to his position.

“Please, let your body guards sit.” I asked Maxwell.

“Why? So it’ll be easier to shoot them?” He responded with a feeble yet angry tone.

“We’re about to have a delicious meal that isn't green goop. And I’m trying to make amends for stealing your troops. Let the poor boys enjoy at least one meal before going back to that awful slop.” Maxwell shot me a bitter glare, knowing that I was up to no good. I didn’t want to lose him now.

“Please, I promise on my mother’s life that you and your guards will exit this room unharmed.” The great thing about my promise was that I couldn’t break it. My mother was already dead, so it’s not like the terms were that fantastic to agree with. Thankfully for me, he didn’t know that.

“Sit.” He ordered his guards.

“Thank you, sir.” I retrieved the guards glasses and uncorked the juice. I poured the refreshing, equine intoxicating beverage into each glass before pouring into Maxwells. I then proceeded to explain,”I want you to know who’s working for whom right now. My soldiers are all technically still yours. They never got any sort of clearance from you to be excused from your army.”

The guards began to raise the glasses to there mouths. “Wait! How do we know you didn’t poison the our drinks?” Maxwell asked with suspicion.”

“Oh my goodness. Where are my manners?” I responded.”Here, I’ll get this sorted for you. Toe Tapper? Get in here!” The door swung open, and from it came a small framed unicorn mare. She was caramel brown with short, gold hair. The fact that she survived this long in prison was a miracle. But she managed to survive for this long by joining the most stable gangs. I guess I prove myself to be a fine protector for the weak.

“Yes, Anthony sir?” She asked.

“Pour yourself a glass and drink. Here, use mine. I wont be using it anyways.” She obeyed, and proceeded to pour herself a large gulp of the beverage. She chugged it down as quickly as possible. I remember why she was locked up now. Her intoxicated rampages led her straight to the clink. Now, her addiction to the silly stuff serve a different purpose.

“All clear. Do you mind if I have another drink?” She asked.

“Later, now it’s time for business.” Toe Tapper nodded and backed to the corner of the room where she waited for further orders. The guards eagerly began to sip their grape juice. Poor fellas. They must miss the stuff more than I miss actual food.

“Now, as I was saying. I can’t command these men with a clear conscious. They serve under a different banner than my own.” I brown nosed as Maxwell drank his own. “Besides, I can’t lead a gang! I’m in way over my head here! It takes someone with real guts to order these men-...I mean stallions around. Which is why I’m giving your boys back to you. As well as any other ponies Iron may have recruited in the past few weeks.”

Maxwell’s eyebrow raised with interest. Maybe this plan would work after all. “And, if you would allow me. I wish to fight for you in the arena. I was meant to be a follower, not a leader! That’s for someone as experienced as you to handle.”

Maxwell placed his juice glass on the table and sighed. “When you killed my son, I felt almost nothing for his death. That bigmouthed idiot had it coming from the moment he learned his first swear. I acted like I was infuriated to make you fear, boy. But turns out, you’re a bigger failure than he was.” He said with a smirk. “That boy may have not been able to take over the family business, but you can’t even handle fifty good colts? Haha!” He chuckled. His guards joined him in laughter. “Boy, you must be one pathetic loser to screw something like that up!”

“Like I said, I’m a follower. Definitely not a leader.”

“You know your place, I’ll give you that. I’ll accept your offer. But only if you try not to show your idiocy on the battlefield.”

“I’ll do my best.” The door swung open and four well dressed ponies trotted in and placed bowls of fine Istalian pasta on each plate.” Looks like dinner is served. Toe Tipper? Would you be so kind as to taste each bowl? After that, you can have mine. I wont be needing it anyway.” Poor girl needs some meat on those lanky bones anyway. She left her post at her corner, and used her magic to lift the fork from my side and sample the meal from each bowl. It was a bowtie alfredo pasta with mushrooms, peas, and a hint of dijon. Unfortunately, this was my favorite meal and utterly torturous to watch. After she didn’t die, my bowl was levitated from the tabled and left hovering under her mouth as she wolfed down her meal.

“Smells amazing.” The left guard noted. “I haven’t had a meal like this in years!” The other guard added. “Settle down, boys. First, I propose a toast.” Maxwell interjected. He lifted his glass in the air. The other guards copied his action. “To the stupidity of those lower than us. They are the cement base for which to build a mighty empire with!” “Cheers!” The guards cheered.

The door swung open with one of my colts, asking,”Boss, there’s somepony who needs to see you now.”

“Well can it wait? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Boss, it’s very urgent. You need to come and check this out.”

“Fine, if you’ll excuse me, Gentleme-...I mean, gentlecolts. You’ll have to enjoy your meal without me.”

“That’s fine by me, I won’t have to stare at your ugly mask anymore!” Maxwell joked. I proceeded to stand and exit the room. I stood in a brick hall with several of my men standing around me. They led me around the corner, just out of earshot from the dining room. I couldn’t in anymore.

“Fuck that guy! Jesus Christ is he an asshole.”

“Why do ya think we left him?” A random mare pointed out.

“I see what you mean! God, that sarcastic prick thinks he’s so clever. Let’s see how he feels in the next ten minutes.”

“Speaking of which, how are you going to do it?” One of the ponies asked.

“Hmm. Do you guys have a horse pun version of Al Capone?…”

The plan would be simple. The body guards that Maxwell had brought in were his two most trusted agents. Ever since an anonymous tip to the Equestrian Bureau of Investigation about his whereabouts led him to this hellhole, he decided he needed somepony to help him stay alive. Those ponies were Steel Plow and Hardy Brawl, the two butchest ponies in the prison. Maxwell promised to leave his entire fortune to the two stallions if they helped him survive prison for long enough to see daylight, then he’d leave his entire fortune to them. The burly colts agreed, and helped him build an empire of hit ponies to protect those who are weaker and terminate those who seek to destroy him.

With five years of beating ponies to death with their hooves, they now possess more influence over the rest of the Laborers than Maxwell himself. To be honest, all of them were sick of Maxwell. He had became too old for his own good. Darwinism should’ve taken his life the second he entered this prison. He merely cheated the reaper from his kill with the promise of money. Well, money can’t buy him out of this.

*****

Ten minutes had passed since I had left that smug bastard in the room with his last meal. If Shady had planned this well enough, then it would result in my army doubling in size. Now, it’s time for me to persuade the new leaders to join my side. I stand in front of the door to the dining room, with a Louisville slugger ready in my left hand. My right hand grips the door handle, twists it accordingly, and allows the door to swing open. The scene had turned from an organized business meeting to a drunken mess. Toe Tipper had found the ‘reserve’ juice bottle that I had brought and began to chug it like it was the last drink she’ll ever have. With a bottle in mouth, Steele kissing her forearm, and Hardy giving her a hoof massage; Toe found herself quite satisfied with how the evening turned out.

All of that was about to change. I took my first step in and threw the bat to my right hand. I decided to activate the QuickDraw to ensure that I delivered a proper strike. My left hand reunited with the bottom of the grip, with my right residing just above. I snuck into position, planted my feet firmly into the ground, and struck a proper batting stance.

It was at this moment that Steel glanced up from tenderly loving his new found mare to notice me. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It was too late. My body pulled backwards, then forwards as my bat swung through the air and into the back of Mr. Steedisons cranium. Chunks of skull and white matter exploded into the air along with a splatter of rouge. Bits of Maxwell had landed on the three lovebirds. QuickDraw disabled itself, allowing me to bask in the horrified reactions of his closest allies. Hardy turned around to see his former boss, brain dead on the dinner table. His natural reaction came with a large gasp and a jump backwards. Steel could only sit with his jaw on the floor and eyes wide open. The shock was more powerful than his will to defend his body. Both stallions would forever be scarred from the horrible event that took place.

Toe Tipper glanced up from the her intoxicated colt worship to view myself, painted red and bearing a bat.

“Neat!” She shouted as she returned to her Istallion juice bottle.

“Oh yeah! Right outta the park!” I shouted in victory. I felt it wasn’t far enough for me to just kill him. I gotta make a show out of this to frighten them even more. I raised the bat above my head and prepared for another strike.

“It’s going!” I announced as the bat crashed into the crater in Maxwell’s noggin. My bat quickly rose back into the air.

“Going!” Again with the bat creating an even wider crevice in his head.

“Fucking gone!” I rejoiced with one final bash into his head. The fine linen cloth covering the table had been stained red with his life juice. The plate below his face had shattered into several pieces. His face was covered in the sauce of his meal. The other dishes, half empty and now destined to spoil, had chunks of pony residing in it. I dropped the bat and allowed it to clink onto the floor before the black clouds came to take it back home. I pointed towards Steel.

“You,” Then to Hardy,” And you. You work for me now. From this point on, you two will be in charge of leading any one of my crew that isn’t a hitpony. Got it?”

“B-...but. B-but.” Hardy attempted to rebuttal.

“Out with it.” I replied. “Come on, you can’t be that shocked from this. You’ve lived here for five years and have probably seen worse stuff than this before!”

“B-but what about our inheritance?! That old wind bag was our ticket out of here!”

“Oh, really now?” I responded. Steel looked up from his thousand yard stare and his gaping mouth was replaced with a furious frown.

“Yes, you idiot!” Steel angrily answered. “We were going to bribe the warden with his fortune! We were going to buy our freedom! He wasn’t going to update our will until he was on his deathbed. And now, we get nothing!”

“Oh contraire. I think you’ll find that we made sure his will was updated to include you two boys.” The look of anger on both colts changed to looks of curiosity.

“Really?” Steel asked with doubt.

“The old colt may have not been present for the update, but his lawyer made an unscheduled visit after a few convincing letters persuaded him to edit his last wishes. And thankfully for us, my best guy knows how to forge like a professional. Congratulations boys, you can buy your freedom.”

“I don’t buy it.” Hardy stated. “Why do this for us? What’s the catch?”

“Well, that’s just it. When you buy your freedom, you’ll have nothing else to your names. I’ve checked with the wardens favorite guards. They claim that her minimum price is barely lower than this old man’s fortune. Approximately three million bits will go to her, and one thousand bits will be split between you two.” Steel and Hardy glanced at each other, then back to me. They were interested in what I was saying, but still defensive to truly hear my proposal.

I continued,”I assume you’ll spend the thousand on a good whore to share, and the other thousand on copious amounts of booze. Then what? You’ll be back at square one. Sure, even if you have friends or family on the outside, it still won’t be the life you want. You took up that old man’s proposal with a phoney promise of wealth. Well, allow me to make a counter proposal.”

“Go on.” Hardy permitted.

“Work for me. Serve under the banner of the Symphonian Legion as my two generals. Help me organize the rest of the laborers into my army and we can fight our way out of this hell hole. Your bits will be invested into arming our troops with supplies, weapons, and armor. But, will be payed back in triple. Both of you will posses four point five million bits each when this is all over. So? What do you say?”

Both of them looked at each other, giving the sternest looks to one another. It was like they were having a deep, complex conversation through their eyes alone. Then they both turned to me. Steel announced,”Alright. You have a deal. But the second you break this promise, bad things will happen to you and your army.”

“I’m sure of it. Glad to have you on board, gentlemen.”

“Gentlecolts.” Hardy corrected.

“Right. Gentlecolts. We’ll be in contact. Come on, Toe Tipper. We’ve got work to do.” I announced as I turned to the doorway and exited. Toe proceeded to pound the bottle, and stumble from her seat to the doorway. It felt good knowing I had amassed an army this large with ancient mafia tactics. It will feel even better with the other gangs eliminated from the prison.

***

I sit alone in the armory, getting ready for the fight against Zetito, leader of the Zebras. It’s been a week since I’ve forcefully merged The Laborers into my legion. There was little resistance during the takeover of their faction. They had fully recognised my potential as a leader, seeing how their last one was less than favorable.

My army was rapidly in strength. Enough to make the other two crime syndicates worried. With this paranoia plaguing the leaders of both groups, Shady concluded that the Zebras should be the next target.

The guard pony levitated the door and gave his trademark smirk, signaling me to enter the arena. I rose from the bench and walked into the tunnel. The light in front of me grew brighter with every step I took towards the arena. The sound of cheers from the audience above roared into the hall. This was it. This was the moment I stole the Zebras from Zetito.

I entered the arena to see the bulky Zebra, waiting patiently for me at the chalk line. While the attention did help my confidence, I passed on revving the crowds engines with the Wrestlemania style showboating that I used in previous matches. Instead, I calmly made my way towards my chalk starting point. I managed to get a good look at Zetito’s attire. The zebra covered himself in plates of iron armor, strong enough to block my swords and clubs but small enough to not hinder agility as much as a full suit of armor. A red and orange tribal skirt covered his haunches which made him look slightly larger than he actually was. There were several large feathers that were planted into a leather harness along Zetito’s spine. Each one was taken from a fallen pegasi that he defeated in battle. His helmet appeared to be a crown of tiger pelt with giant feline teeth accenting the top rim. Several feathers were placed in the inner rim of the crown to give it an intimidating headdress look. At least eight spears made of bronze and wood hung from his left, while a wooden shield hung from the right. A bandolier of different flasks containing glowing liquids was strapped tightly around his armor, reminding me of Itchy’s band of chemicals.

He was equipped to fight someone of my proportions, but honorable to accent his armor with designs of his home world. When I snatch the life from him, I better do so in an honorable fashion, lest I face the wrath of several hundred zebras for disgracing their culture.

We sat for several seconds before the familiar sound of a bell’s ding echoed through the arena. Instinctively, I spawned an iron buckler and short sword and stood in a defensive stance. My enemy stood on his hind legs and grabbed his shield and one of the spears in return. The shield was latched onto the bicep of his right hoof while his left hoof and arm wrapped around the shaft of the spear, much like an octopus's tentacle. He began to strafe to the left. I mirrored the action. Our eyes locked, the intensity of our gazes grew stronger with each step. I decided to act first with deceit. I activated my hologram system and launched the screamer program. In a blink of an eye, a shrieking skull appeared inches from his face and let out a horrible cry. The audience let out a collective gasp. Zetito continued his path, unphased by the skull.

Damn! He’s trained himself not to lose focus. With my hologram system rendered useless, I decided to move forward with my shield facing my enemy. At the slightest opening I give him, he will strike. Maybe I can trick him into attacking early. Maybe he will know it’s a bluff. I had just made it to the center of the arena when he decided to grab a vile of a green liquid and pour the contents onto the head of the spear. He spat the glass container onto the ground and proceeded to fling the spear at me. I brought me head below my shield.

*THUNK*

The spear plunged itself into my shield, just a few inches below my arm. The green glowing liquid had spread onto my shield, and began eating away the wood and metal. I threw my shield off of my arm for fear of it spreading to my suit. The melting shield flew across the arena. I looked back at my opponent to see him much closer and bearing a red glowing spear. I did not have enough time to react before he plunged the spear in between my shoulder plate and chest plate. A sharp pain shot into my chest as the blade was pushed downward into my rib cage. Zetito used this momentum to vault off of my body and land behind me. I quickly dropped my sword and reached to grab the spear. Grabbing the shaft as firmly as I could, I began to yank the spear free. A few violent tugs, and the spear was free. The suit began to send ESC gel to the wound, but something felt wrong. My vision was beginning to blur. I felt light headed and weak as I attempted to swing my blade around to strike. Instead, I moved my head to face Zetito who had his hoof in the air. His hoof came down and struck my face. I felt a loud crunch in my face as I fell to the ground. Bastard broke my nose. I could feel it throbbing as I laid on the dirt.

Zetito began shouting to the crowd,” Brothers and Sisters! This shant be a while. I will put this monster through our trial! He shall test his soul as we have tested ours, his fears will become real and be given great powers. Milk of the Hippogryph, a powerful substance. With this, his psyche will dance!”

He pulled a vial from his bandelier and began to drink. The vial was thrown to the ground as his eyes grew bright. Several eyes in the audience began to grow white as well. They were all Zebras. He looked back to me. It felt like he was peering into my very existence. He said,” Every Zebra goes through this test. To lay all their fears to rest. Most of our own do not pass, they lay still six feet under grass. Prove to me that you are able. Live up to your monstrous fable!”

His eyes grew brighter as a beam of raw energy shot into my eyes. The pain of a thousand suns burned into my corneas as I let out an painful shriek. I could still hear him talking. “We will see through your eyes, understand your pain. We don’t use this to mock. Only knowledge and understanding to gain.”

Such comforting words from someone trying to kill me. The pain grew much more powerful as my I began to fade out of consciousness. The last thing I heard was,”With our eye and your cry, do try and face the horrible lie or you… will… Die!”

The brightness faded to darkness. I was no longer in the arena. My body was sprawled out on whatever surface I was on. It was cold. Horribly cold. My suit would normally protect me from such temperatures. I forced my eyes open to reveal a cloudy sky. Snow was currently falling on my body. I forced my body to sit up in order to exam myself. My larger physique was missing. I was in the body of my younger self. If I had to guess, I would say I was in my fourteen year old body. I was wearing a button down and jeans, with fashionable sneakers to compliment. Certainly not winter attire, but it certainly made me look cooler.

I looked up from my body to see where I was…

Oh god…

Oh my god…

I was in my hometown of Loveland, lying dormant in the church parking lot near my grandmothers. I remember this place so well! I used to ride my bike down the hill on the other side of the church all the time! And behind me was the statue garden that I used to play in when I was younger. And next to me was my first crushes house. I used to go over there just to jump on her trampoline. But something was wrong with her house. The roof had caved in and the tree we planted together had fallen onto the neighbors house. I swung my head back around to examine the church. The stained glass had been smashed open, and the doors had fallen off the hinges. The walls of the church were covered in spray paint. I stood up and turned to view the sculpture garden. There were some new ones added onto the ones I remembered. But most of them had been vandalized. The entire neighborhood appeared to be vandalized. I started to walk towards the direction of my grandmothers house.

This was all apart of the zebras ploy. They were just trying to get to me. I won’t allow them to. I couldn’t help but shiver as I stepped onto the sidewalk. It wasn’t snowing hard. And it hadn’t been snowing for long according to the thin blanket of white fluff on the ground, but it still began freezing me to the core. I began to turn the corner onto my grandma’s street. So many memories lied dormant on this block. I continued to pass the next few houses before being able to see my Grandparents home. There was something written in spray paint on the front of their house. ‘ELDERLY INSIDE, FREE STUFF’. My heart skipped at what that could have meant. I knew that it was just my fears that lead me here, but I needed to know my grandparents fate. My shaky shuffle turned into a full sprint. These were the people that raised me while my parents were at work, I needed to know if they were alive or not. There was a gigantic chance that they weren’t, but my heart still held out that they were.

I got to the front door, which had been knocked down. There was a staircase immediately going up and down. I choose the one going up. Everything was gone. Everything. Pictures, urns, furniture, all gone. Some of the walls had been busted open just for the copper pipes. On the living room floor, I found charred remains. Someone was held down here and lit ablaze. Judging by the physique and the size, I’d guess it was my grandpa.

A tear fell from my eye as my hand met my face. I kept telling myself that it was just a dream. I knew that it was too. But to see him lying there, a Vietnam veteran that taught me to be strong when I was at my lowest, it...it was just too much.

Another thought grazed my mind. A thought so horrible that it caused me to freeze up. ‘Where’s Grandma?’ I promised Grandpa that I would be strong for him when I was younger. I began searching the house. Hoping that I’d find grandma somewhere. I don’t care if she was badly wounded or was about to die. I just needed to tell her that I loved her one last time. That I was sorry for missing her calls for all those years, or not visiting her. I didn’t want her to die in vain.

I checked every room upstairs before sprinting downstairs into the weightroom. My Grandfathers weights had been indeed been stolen. I ignored that and moved to the door on the left, the guest bedroom.

The beds were stolen, as well as the TV. The entire room reeked of death. That realization hit hard as I walked up to the large closet with folding doors. I placed one hand on the knob and pulled.

There she was. Short white hair, glasses, overweight physique, short stature. She appeared to be resting under a blanket she once sewed for me. Thank god they didn’t check the closet. I don’t think I could take anymore pain from this dream.

“Grandma?” I asked with hope in my heart. No response. My relieved smile turned into a worried frown. “Grandma? Wake up. I’m here. You’re safe now.” I said as I reach my hand out to her shoulder. I grabbed it tenderly before retracting it quickly. Her body was cold and stiff. I grabbed her again and began to shake her. Tears began welling in my eyes.

“Grandma, please don’t be dead. I’m sorry.” My hand moved from her shoulder to her head as I moved my head to hers. My skull touched hers, it had been at least a day since she passed. I began weeping uncontrollably. My tears began to stain her blanket. I wanted to tell her so many things. I wanted her to die alone and scarred. Not like this. “I’m sorry...I...I’m sorry th-that...I…wasn’t there…” I tried to explain in between sobs. I looked down from her head and saw she was holding a cross in her right hand. She was always such a religious woman. I hope with all my heart that there is a god and that he has let her into her domain.

A revolver was not too far in front of her. This must’ve been incase someone found her. I picked up the gun in front of her and examined it. There was only one chamber filled. It was for her. Maybe it was for me. I place the gun in my pocket and looked to the ceiling. I shouted,”I’ve seen enough! I get it! I’m afraid of not being there for my family! I already knew this! Wake me up!”

I waited for a few seconds before Zetito’s voice responded,”We mourn the death of your grandmother dear, but you must understand why you are still here. This is not a dream made by us or your mind racing fast, this is an actual event located in your past.” My heart froze. If what he said was true, then my grandmother actually did die with a heart plagued with fear and sadness. My mind was still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“B-but how?! How does that work?! How do you know where to put me and when they died?!?” I shouted to the ceiling. Zetito replied,”Our potions are very powerful. We are able to view your entire world in full. Right now, your past self of fourteen years, is currently on a train while you are still in tears. We can see into every event unfolding in the past, so long as the memory of your past lasts. We know this might not make sense and that your heart is ill…” I glanced back over to the corpse of my grandmother.

“...but those are the rules of a Zebrian Memory Spill…”

I got back on my knees and crawled back to her. I grabbed her hand, and reached around for a hug. I loved her. I wanted her to say it back. The voice started back up again. “This is your chance now, one decision more. A decision to end all others before. Use her weapon to reunite with the departed. Or find the courage to stand on your own and finished what has been started.”

I noticed something under the blanket. It shined ever so slightly to the light from outside. I pulled off the blanket to reveal what it was. It looked like a snow globe. Under it was a small stack of papers, a pen, and a flashlight. I decided to get those first. I got up and moved to the window to see what they said. My heart began to race as I realised what they were. Final letters to loved ones. They were horribly scribbled seeing how she must’ve written them when the looting began. The first one was to my mother. The next was to my uncle. Then my cousins. And finally me. It was hard to understand her handwriting, but I eventually adapted to her bad penmanship the letter read:

Dear Anthony,

I don’t know if you’ll ever find this, but if you do then I want you to know this. You’ve made me so proud over the years. I always loved hearing you sing and will always remember and cherish each memory of you singing in the car. You are a singing angel and I love you so much. I miss all the times that we spent together. Remember the Beatles song I made you play on the guitar so we could sing it? I had so much fun with you. Both Grandpa and I miss you and we’ll always love you. Remember that. I’ll see you again someday in Heaven. And we’ll sing together then.

With Love,
Ethel Calhoun, Grandma

P.S. Don’t forget your Guardian Angel. I kept it safe from them so it can watch over you. Alway remember that your Guardian Angel is up there keeping you safe.

I was crying even harder now. I folded the letter and placed it in my pocket and made my way back to my Grandmother’s corpse. I lifted the blanket off and found the Guardian angel she was talking about. It was the Snowglobe she bought when I was born. The base was a heavenly porcelain cloud with building blocks, teddy bears, and toy trains jammed in it. But inside the ball was an angel with beautiful brown hair and large angel and majestic angel wings. She had long blue and indigo robes and the most beautiful smile. She was holding something in the air; a happy, newborn baby. It was me, or it was a representation of me. The tears landed on the glass as I examined it closer. I placed the snow globe on the ground. I crawled over to my Grandma and wrapped the blanket back around her. I kissed her on the head and hugged her tight,” I love you too, Grandma. I’ll always remember you.” I grabbed the snow globe and then stood up facing the ceiling.

“I’m ready to end this…” I said to the ceiling.