Fallout Equestria: Striving for the End
Chapter 2: The Murderer [Edits in progress]
A grunted sigh escapes my lips as I make my way through a corridor. I tug at the side of my saddlebags to make sure that they remained tight, yet flexible. Wouldn’t want another incident of a thief thinking they’ll get lucky with a couple of bottle caps trying to get away with my gear or robbing me entirely.
Fortunately, my not-quite-so-concealed knife weapon was strapped to my bags, though closer to my hooves’ reach. I have ways to defend myself, and the local Stable security won’t hassle a stallion of my age over a sidearm... just as long as I don’t go crazy like my father did. I also learned a long time not to be trotting across the Stable with a full pocket full of bottle caps, unless I’m planning something to do with it. Thieves will get nothing, that’s the summery. It just means that I would have to go get more tools, more redundant and a pain in the flank than anything else to be honest.
I climb my way up a set of stairs when I had gone into the entrance of the corridor. Upon reaching the top, I was greeted by the sights and sounds of the city that could only be known as: Stable A104.
Ponies talking, jobs working, sounds booming, and sights seeing, this mass congregation of a civilian hub could only be known as the lunch break. This city had towers, buildings that would go far up into the air, and high-rises that loomed over the citizens below. Seemingly, they went for miles before being stopped in its tracks by the massive supports that curve into the shape of a dome as the ceiling of our city. Makes ponies realize just how large the Stable was, and just how small and insignificant we all were in comparison.
I personally preferred to stay down “Underground” in the maintenance tunnels.
I couldn’t stand how open it was up above. It wasn’t as open as many would think. If the close-packed buildings didn’t create a sense of claustrophobia, then it would be from the amount of ponies going by their day-to-day lives. Every ten steps and another ten new pairs of eyes would have walked past.
Only good thing I can think about having all these ponies is that we certainly won’t lack for genetic diversity. That said, I don’t know when the Stable was first made, where it originated. Has it always been here or not? Never was a fan of the unknown.
Turning a left past some small business complexes, I was just another face in the crowd. When ponies gazed, they would only see a tired old stallion living off the last fumes of his life, a cough may escape from him depending on how tough his morning was below surface level, the amount of dust that clung to his jumpsuit would speak for how much work he did in that particular span of hours. No one would care if a technician died in an electrical explosion underneath a home, so long as it didn’t damage the home. Being a technician can be boring and is certainly hard work, but one simple mistake and you’re finished.
Reminds me of surviving day-to-day as a younger colt... though with more wires involved.
A group of fillies and colts playfully ran passed me as I made my way down an intersection. They laughed and smiled, completely oblivious to the harsh realities of life they will each face when they grow older. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel any envy for them being as carefree as they were.
Finally, I reach my destination, the Overmare Offices, noted by the giant letter ‘O’ placed on the front of its doorway and the way it was designed to look something like a government building, maybe just to show off its important to the rest of the Stable. Stable-tec , the makers of the Stable and everything within it. They might have gone a bit overboard with the design when they first built this place, though it is a lot easier to access.
I just wish they didn’t have so much stairs leading up to the entrance of this giant brick.
It’s true though, the more I thought about it, the more this place looked like a giant brick. A brick that then sat on top of another brick, and then another and another. Somehow that layering had blessed the design with stairs, though there were only two definitive frontal entrances and some that were used in an emergency. Such as those that lead into the tunnels.
I grasped the railing as I calmly made my way up the steps. If I didn’t mention it before then I will now, of all the places in Stable A104, I had to have found that the Overmare Offices was the place I hated the most. This was where I go to get my pay, my assignments, my everything pretty much. And these damn stairs everyday are just a terrible side flaw that I have to live through every time I have to come up here.
I made it indoors after an automatic metal-coated door opened for me allowing entrance. I then made my way towards the secretary (noticing just how sparse the place was. Where were all the guards?).
“Hello Sandy,” I said to the secretary mare with her head down. Her light-sanded hooves on her keyboard as she had her head down and her eyes hidden behind her long brown mane. She didn’t answer. “Sandy, it’s Ash. I’m here to see my daughter who’s in a meeting with the Overmare today,” I said, trying to explain. Still, no answer came from her. “Alright, Sandy. What’s going on –“ I lifted her head with a careful hoof and recoiled when I made the horrific discovery. I allowed her head to slump back into the previous position.
She was dead.
A clean bullet hole was left imbedded in her head. The trickle of blood still ran and though dark, remained bright enough to cast a reflection of light. She died only minutes ago.
No guards and a dead secretary. My first thoughts might have been selfish, but they were of my daughter and if she was in danger.
I don’t know what was happening; I needed to know if Fern was alright. I drop my saddlebags with my tools inside with a loud clang onto the ground. Strapping the knife to my jumpsuit belt this time, I hurried as I made my way down a corridor toward the Overmare’s room.
The eeriness of the empty hallways caused more panic to well up into the depths of my chest.
I arrive at a doorway, just like any other doorway in the whole damn Stable. The only difference was a panel overhanging sturdily on top of the frame with the word, “Overmare”. Such robust green lighting and the proudness behind the maintenance of that word ensured me that I was where I had to be.
What hit me first was the sight of crimson blood. It was over the walls, splattered all over the metal door, it had pooled onto the floor, and the source had been from a dead Stable security guard slumped down on the floor with his back against the wall. Holes riddled his chest cavity and blood was smeared all over the inside of his riot-shield helmet.
So much for protection, I thought to myself, still disgusted by the sight though not fazed. I have been alive for too long in this Stable to let a dead guard be called any more than a brutal murder. Not an average sight, though certainly odd for today’s time. Right here in the Overmare’s Offices? It can’t be a coincidence.
My examination of the dead body ceased when I heard a clamor of objects falling and crashing in the Overmare’s room. Crying and loud wails were heard, I couldn’t understand the words but I understood the voices.
“Fern…” I whispered to myself. It was dangerous to make any noise; whoever was killing all these ponies was likely in the room with the Overmare… and my daughter.
I backed away from the door, there was no way I could simply enter that easily and expect not to end up like that dead guard over there. My eyes darted around the hallway. Something, anything I could use to get another way in…
Aha! The ventilation ducts!
Not those small ones I could probably have squeezed into when I was a foal, but these fan vents could be large enough for me to crawl into. It was easy to find one, they happen to be on every single ceiling in this building from what I recall from my maintenance record. Trouble was, they were on the ceiling.
More noises and shouts came from the Overmare’s room. I have to work fast.
Thank Stable-tec for making their interior ceiling design so much lower!
I was able to stand on my hind legs, and jump towards a fan vent. My hooves gripped the edges, and already I could feel my weight having an impact on making it sag. I wiggled around and tried to jerk it down on top of me. I slammed my hoof against one of the screws holding it in place.
Suddenly, the whole thing fell along with me to the ground. I landed on my back, and the panel along with the fan landed on my front. No sound occurred minus a grunt of pain escaping from my mouth with a tired breath.
“Argh, that hurts -- that really hurts a lot. Ouch…”
Just had to remind myself that this was better than going through a direct approach with the door. I got myself back up to my hooves while carefully placing the fan that fell on me carefully to the side. I was really considering that option with the door though.
I rubbed my front hooves together in anticipation and leaped towards the open vent, the feeling of gripping the metal layer of such a vent was one that comforted me during my time at the Stable. I soon hoisted myself into a dark and gloomy grate. Claustrophobia around the Stable was rare since everything was so compact, though few ponies had the pleasure of crawling face-first through a nearly pitch-black dusty vent cut off from the regular traffic of ponies and surrounded instead by four walls that threatened to squeeze them forever in darkness and never be found again.
Places like these were constant reminders my foalhood, and truly what I considered to be home.
I made my way through the dusty shaft; I could feel the strain in preventing my back from bumping against the ceiling, and my hooves from scraping against the more rusted areas of the vent. Heading in the direction towards the voices, I begin to hear them more clearly.
“… please we don’t –“
My daughter.
“—Enough! We only want information,” a booming eloquent voice responded. Not one I can recall, but I can hear the agitation behind it.
“Look, I don’t know what it is you’re after—“ I heard a feminine voice. Sounding of authority, though frightened, it definitely must’ve been the Overmare.
Immediately, I heard a loud bang. My daughter screamed. I could hear circuits sparking and frying. The sound of reloading confirmed my fears: it was a gunshot.
I crawled faster through the vents until I turned a corner and noticed light permeating between the bars of a vent grate. I reminded myself to be discreet as I approached it. Carefully, ever so slightly, I pulled my head closer towards the opening for risk of being seen.
As my eyes finally made it to the point I could see, I could view everything in the room below me. The Overmare, her mane already grey from her old age stood alongside my daughter Fern in front of a control panel. Fern has the same mane colour as I did when I was younger, a dark-black, her coat a lighter green compared to mine thanks to her mother, an Earth pony by standards and possibly why she has an interest into dirt and plant work, but her eyes are what I wanted to see. They were the same brilliant emerald luster of her mother’s, and now, they were horrified and covered in tears.
Opposite to them stood four ponies, ponies that didn’t belong in the Stable. Outsiders, I thought to myself as I gritted my teeth. So I guess the rumors were true. Not all of them of course, but at least now I know there has to be more than this Stable. The thought of an outside world beyond the confines of this place enticed me -- but I had to stay focused – my daughter was in danger, and if they so touch just a hair on her…
I grit my teeth from the mere thought.
I positioned the viewpoint I had to get a better angle on the outsiders. They’re wearing such strange outfits. Not any uniform I’ve ever seen, two of them are actually carrying some type of bulked up armor. Just looking at those and I could feel the energy they were giving off.
“He won’t ask nicely again lady,” one beige pegasus said to the Overmare. Wearing a uniform with yellow bars going down his shoulders, and a cap marked with an insignia of wings and a puffed up white ball, he looked more like a respected battle commander than a murderous lunatic. His pistol was holstered to his side, but I could see the stain of blood on the tip of the barrel of the firearm.
I stared at it, my troubling past helped to piece the details together. He had to have put that right up to a pony and fired. Probably shot them in the head when they weren’t looking. Or... when they were.
He turned his attention to the pony aiming a larger gun, a shotgun, coated white and with three barrels fused together around a support frame, pointed towards the Overmare. The pony himself was wearing a black duster coat that went down to near the bottom of his hooves, and went just as high to cover the mouth of his muzzle. A pair of green and purple lines went up from the right arm of his coat to the neck cover near his muzzle. A bald white coloured pony, couldn’t see his eyes from this angle. I have to keep an eye on him though. He seems to be calling the shots.
“Please, be reasonable, Overmare. We only have a simple request. Just a small one, one that will make a big difference. You can be a part of it. You will change lives as a result. No more lives need to be taken today -- you have my word,” the white bald stallion said to her. Something about the niceness behind his tone made me want to hoof him across the face. He wasn’t smug either. He completely sounded genuine.
Finally got a look at his eyes: bright green, but I could see some blue around his iris. Just short little strands. Never saw anything quite like it, it couldn’t be natural. I made sure to get a very good look at him.
“Come on, we’re wasting time. Just shoot them and be done with it,” a pegasus next to the bald pony.
This pegasus was covered in a sleek and shining black armor that looked more plastic than metal. It covered her all across his body except for his head, which left a sandy-pelted mare with a rugged brown mane stood across the middle of her scalp. The same double line colouration ran down her hoof like the bald pony’s uniform, except that it went down both hooves and went up from her back neck to her tail in a straight robust line. She stood proud and strong and attached to her hooves were large gloves that went over top of her armor. They looked like weapons that could pack a punch.
“Commander Thunderhoof…” another armored pony said to her with a stallion-like voice through a respirator, almost demeaning her. This time his armor scheme was more dull grey, a tinge of green with no coloured markings. The difference was that this pony had its helmet on. A frightening mask to say the least, it had tubes going from one end to another on his body, but definitely the most heavily armored of the group. I noticed it had a transparent section on the top of its helmet which housed a pink horn. A unicorn no less, and in full armor: a dangerous combination.
“Fine… fine, but don’t come crying to me if Command decides to kick your flank for taking too long. We got other places to get to,” she said with an exalted sigh towards the pony in full armor. “This place is garbage anyway.”
The one thing in common that they all had except for the heavily armored unicorn was an emblem of clouds and wings, a pair of eyes gazed out from the shelter of a single arch with green and purple overtop their black uniforms and armor.
After witnessing all of them, and the situation at hand, I determined that this plan of mine was pure suicide. But my daughter was there, I have to keep her safe no matter the cost.
I continued to crawl my way over the grating, certain they were too distracted to look up and then went around back to continue looking, this time getting a good look at each of their faces. They talked more, but my daughter and the Overmare remained silent, more terrified and unsure of what to do.
Soon I was joined by a small rat also in the ventilation ducts with me. It must wonder what this big random pony was doing in its home. It looked at me and noticed I was still observing those below me, so it did the same. My eyes were transfixed on the gun aimed at the Overmare, a little to the left and – no – not my daughter…
Suddenly, the rat fell through the vent grating as it tried to get a closer look. It fell to the ground harmlessly, everypony in the room noticing as it skirted off to hide in a dark corner.
“Oh, crap!” I said quietly to myself as I ducked my head out from the view as soon as possible.
Did they see me? They didn’t look up yet. They must’ve looked up. Okay, good I don’t think they have—right better keep going, I was kidding myself, I had no idea what I would do when I worked my way down these vents. I saw a working fan when I was looking down, maybe I could use that but after… after I wouldn’t know what to do.
These were ponies I never seen before, that the Stable hasn’t seen before. There’s no telling where they came from or what they can do. Still, I never have seen an outsider before.
This ventilation path is complicated, but at least I can get the jump of them. I continued down the dusty hallway of barely breathable room, and got to a vertical shaft. The drop wasn’t too high, though I tried to reduce as much noise as I could when climbing down it.
I approach the spinning fan from the opposite side. I couldn’t see the room as the blades were spinning at a threatening speed and was exposed to my general direction. I was able to hear some more words being exchanged between the two parties, but the wind from the face drowned out my ears.
Recalling from previous maintenance problems I had to deal with, I looked for a panel that holds the circuits that connects the fan to the power line. Luck would have it that the circuit panel was right to the left of the giant fan. I smacked the panel off with one hoof and reached in with my other – seconds later – I pull and yank out as many cords as I could, small showers of sparks emerging when I did.
The fan quietly began to slow down until it stopped; quiet and stillness on the fan’s metal blades gave me comfort I wasn’t going to have a hoof chopped off. However, on the other side of the fan as I peered through the slits, I saw the backsides of the four outsiders, the closest being the distinguished battle-commander type in his military suit. Further ahead stood the Overmare and my daughter – now having spread her hooves out in front of the Overmare to protect her.
“You can’t do this! I won’t let you kill her just for some stupid information!” she shouted at them, her fear in her voice was audible.
Damn it! I shouted in my head. They haven’t noticed me, but I began to work on the giant bolts that held the fan in place. Why do these have to be so tight!? Fern, FERN! I kept shouting in my head. No, these bolts were too tight. I can use my knife as a jack to wedge them out and then use my mouth, but the panic was getting to me. Come on! OPEN!
“Please, it was not my intention to hurt you. But if the Overmare cannot comply, then she must die,” the bald white stallion said to her. He sounded like he was appealing to her, but his words rang hollow. My daughter just stood there, she had to protect the Overmare. Chaos would ensue if she didn’t.
Come on Fern, just a few more seconds, just a few more— trying to fight back the desperation and focus on saving her.
“I’m…” the white stallion started to say.
NO! I shouted inside my head. My stomach fell into such a hole that the panic I was feeling was tearing into my sides. No don’t do this, please don’t do this—
“… sorry,” the white stallion finished, raising his gun. Her eyes widened at the sight of that. Then she looked past it, she could see me behind the fan, she could see me struggling to save her. Those emerald eyes, they were looking to me to protect her, to make sure she would be alright.
Fern, FERN! I practically shouted that as a whisper. Just one more bolt, just one more--
A loud shot rang out through the room. The noise rebounded on wall after wall after wall. A loud boom as strong as sitting next to thunder, quietly turned into a stillness of sound.
FERN!
All my worst dreams and nightmares were coming to a reality. My daughter, my one and only daughter.
Holes riddled her chest, dark red liquid was pooling onto her green fur, it soaked through her Stable jumpsuit.
No… Fern… I had finally managed to unbolt the last bolt with my mouth, but the pain I felt in my heart. The bolt dropped to the floor from my agape mouth. Fern could not survive this. These outsiders would just let me take her willingly to a hospital. My legs felt weak, I felt as if my whole life was now meaningless in that flash of gunfire.
My daughter gasped for air, blood dribbled down from her mouth. Her eyes were horrified, filled with shock as she continued to look at me as if she were experiencing the most incredible pain that could ever be felt. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed onto the floor. The Overmare behind her was shot as well from the bullets that went through my daughter, but she was alive.
She was alive thanks to my daughter.
My daughter is dead.
Tears poured from my eyes, as I stared, absolutely helpless to have stopped it. I grind my hoof against the fan. I’m hit with a flash of sweat, and a boiling fire burned deep down in my gut that had sunken so low. My body felt completely numb, I didn’t realize I had bitten my lip as hard as I did. I felt my pupils shrink back as my vision focused on the white stallion that had murdered my daughter.
My daughter is dead.
I grind my hoof against the fan metal. My grip tightens as I grasp the blade that I carried.
My daughter is dead.
My teeth grit, as if I was trying to crush them.
My daughter is dead.
My daughter is *DEAD*.
All I could think about, all I could think was just how much I was going to rip this stallion apart with my bare hooves. My rage was unrivaled, and in a second, it was let loose from its cage.
* * *
I shouted, my voice boomed with the roar of coursing thunder as I slammed open the fan as I burst from my hiding spot. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” was what the group heard; as they turned their necks it was already too late.
My hooves had grabbed onto the battle-commander with him having no time to even be surprised. My hoof held my knife as it fell through his neck splattering the handle and coated my green fur in warm blood. With this pony in front of me as a shield, I raise him up and grab the pistol from his holster with my other hoof, letting pure adrenaline and rage take over.
I fired a shot at the stallion that murdered my daughter, my aim was unstable and with no help for my rage, it missed. A return shot was fired and I ducked behind the body of the pony I had grabbed, his flesh protecting my life. With another pull of the trigger, I fire a shot and it hits into the white stallion’s chest.
I heard a clang, I thought nothing of it as he fell down to one of his knees in pain, thinking it was from the shotgun that he also dropped from his hooves.
I saw someone in the corner of my eye. A giant metallic fist punched me off from the side of my head and away from the body I was holding. Immediately, I tried to fire off another shot, at somepony, anypony: outsider one, outsider two, the murderer, buck it -- even the Overmare for being the reason my daughter sacrificed her life.
Before I could, a sound rang through the air. A gunshot that wasn’t mine.
I look down to my right side and notice a hole. Soon, a stream of blood came down it. The adrenaline from my rage ended, a sense of euphoria washed over me, and I instantly fell from my legs in pain.
As I fell to the ground, I saw that the stallion, the murderer of my daughter, had brought a pistol up from underneath his coat, and that was what hit me in the side of my chest.
My body was numb once more, the pain of the bullet had overtaken me and I was down on the ground, the pistol I took fell from my grasp and away from my reach. Any movment I make hurt my side with a raging flare of painful spikes.
It's been a while since I was shot... I half-mumbled to myself, not sure if I was able to speak or if I thought I could.
My vision blurred as I saw the figures circle around me.
The stallion approached, wiping away the spot underneath his coat where my bullet had hit him. Now, he switched his pistol for his shotgun and was aiming right at my head.
“Damn it… killed… Admiral,” I heard off to the side.
“…Obstacle… no loose… ends,” I could hear the voice of that stallion.
“Look… dead already… don’t waste… time we need… deal… Overmare—,” the pony in the heavy metallic armor said to the white stallion. That got the gun out of my face and then pointed at something else from outside my view. A shot fired, and a scream followed after.
I felt someone join me down on the floor with a thud as I laid there.
Then just pure silence.
The Overmare… of course… damn it, I tried to keep breathing. I sighed. Damn you... just...
“—Good now… extract… Crystal… we need… that heart is…” the pony continued.
That was when I passed out into the dark abyss.
My only thoughts were of Fern and what I could even say to her mother if there was a crossover between the living and death. I failed. I completely failed everyone I ever cared for.
The stallion’s face haunts my period of limbo. I replay the scene over and over and over in my head. I will never be able to move on from that. My daughter's death... that's not something a lifetime could ever forget.
I... I failed her.
Those eyes seeking help, the gunshot, the pain, oh the pain I could see the moment when... what kind of pony would gun down an innocent kid? M-my... kid.
Emery, forgive me... please.
My thoughts turn back to that stallion. The bald one, with those eyes. Outsiders... there's no telling what they could do.
I know a fact though.
He's still just a pony. And he can still die.
He will not get away with this. He just took the one pony that mattered and my reason for living. I will be glad to return the favor for him, after all…
I have nothing else to lose, and HE has everything that can be lost.
Chapter 1: All Stories must begin somewhere… mine began in a Stable 49 years ago
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Fallout Equestria: Striving for the End
Chapter 1: All Stories must begin somewhere… mine began in a Stable 49 years ago
I hate this place.
Another day, another system that needs fixing. It doesn’t matter what it is: a ventilation fan, an energy outlet, or even a simple light bulb. If it was broken, I was there to fix it. And fix it I would until it had broken down once again. If I wasn’t feeling up to it, well that’s too bad. Somepony else would take my pay instead. There are always replacements. But I cannot allow that, the upkeep on my own home is unmanageable enough as it is.
I wipe the sweat off my brow with a light-green coloured hoof, the other trying to undo the fan paneling as I grasped a wrench tightly in between the grooves of the back molars of my teeth. The smoothness of the cold metal grazed my tongue from the years of trusty service and overuse it had served me.
Besides, I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t do that to Fern. My daughter deserves better, far better than what her father had went through. What I had went through. Even if this place mocked me for my very existence, even when my rage grew day-by-day, Fern deserves a better life than I ever did. Even if that life happens to have her spend her time here for an eternity in the Stable until the day she dies.
That’s Stable life in a nutshell.
You’re born, you live, you work, and then you die. That’s the simple underlying truth behind the coated filler and fluff that life likes to throw in.
I grab hold of the wiring behind the still chrome-laden fan, and proceed to tinker with the fan’s systems, looking for the scorch marks of the wire that must have burned out, and stopped the fan from spinning. Lying down on my back trying to fix this machinery above me would be my only rest for today.
Me? I happen to have had a lot of filler take place in my life within this Stable; Stable A104 to be specific. It wouldn’t do it justice to call it a haven for equines. Some might consider that; I do not. Only a few decades ago would I have learned that there were numerous other Stables in an “outside world”, most of which I gathered from rumours in my younger age. Though, it was also said that these other Stables were unique compared to my own in their designs.
Stable A104: literally a city for ponies.
If I had any comparison to another Stable, I would have said that nothing rivals the sheer size of this city, nor the sheer amount of ponies that reside here. Or even the back-breaking amount of maintenance required to keep this city from powering down.
An economy, irrigation system, electrical energy, and handy-dandy engineers -- running back and forth -- trying to fix everything at the same time, what could go wrong? Plenty of things I found myself in were particularly the worst-case scenarios that Stable life had brought me. Violence, crime, disease, radiation, conspiracy, controversy, drugs, fanatics, riots, rape, and murder are what came to my mind. Though there were certainly plenty of other topics I have yet to have mentioned.
I would prefer to let those memories remain buried in my head for the time being.
Guess I ended up getting born into a pretty rough life to start with? Sadly, that doesn’t end there. I did not even begin to tell my own tale yet. Time is a double-edged sword: on one hoof, I have forgiven and forgotten a lot about my past, however, I have also learned that there were many things that I could not forget or let go no matter how hard I tried to escape.
I groan in discomfort as I arch my back to get a closer look at what the damage on the fan was. A small yellow wire was charred a dull brown on its underside. Argh, it’s always got to be the yellow ones, I thought to myself, letting out a low grumble. I’m not finished examining, had to be certain this wasn’t an over-circuiting issue. I brought my right hoof towards the open fan and shown a gentle sea-green glow from my Pipbuck which was strapped securely, and with good reason, across my hoof. It illuminated the open fan with its gentle bask of light, still not enough to see the damage clearly. By the luster of the Stable's plain reflective walls, do I hate it down here. There is no denying my distaste for this fowl place. But this area of the Stable, all these maintenance tunnels under the city… this was my domain.
This loyal tool of mine must’ve been one of the things I didn’t ultimately despise here in the Stable. A remarkable invention that allows me to monitor my health, status, and of others or objects around me. It wouldn’t have been for a few years as a young colt before I had been acquainted with this device.
From the broken fan, I reach a hoof into its dark confines with the aid of my light. Just lightly, ever so lightly, did my hoof graze on something. The bristles of what felt like matted fur, crisp yet greasy. I grab hold onto the object and pull it out slowly through the darkness before finally being brought to light.
A rat. A dead one.
I never knew much about my mother, though I certainly knew my father. A crazy one at best. Actually, he went crazy a long time ago. I figured I must’ve had at least one moment with him where he wasn’t a raving lunatic, but I cannot seem to remember. Every day, I would hear him howling not just to me, but to the whole residency of Stable A104 of “A world outside from the Stable we call a vault” and “Lies lies lies lies! Everything is a lie!” and so on. He didn’t lack for creativity though.
We have a system here in the Stable, a stable system. A quite stable system much alike the technical systems we have. Like this wire though, sometimes problems arose and then somepony would be sent to fix them.
At the very top was the Overmare, a powerful mare with the highest level of influence in the entire Stable. She was the head, the boss, the sole entity that provided balance to this stability. Balance my flank! Any sane pony could see that anarchy in the Stable will never vanish. As long as there are ponies with conflicting views, there will never be stability. To think she can eliminate it is the ultimate insult to her career.
I don’t know what the deal with Overmares was, but that didn’t stop my father from… assaulting her when she called out on him. He called her a liar. “Why deceive these ponies?” he shouted with such rage that had left a ringing sensation in my eardrums to this day.
That day when he said that though… that was the last day I would have seen him. He took his life that night. And I was there.
I could never forget. Could never ever forget, that moment he grabbed his knife with a serrated edge and plunged it into his chest. Any details I didn’t remember were thankfully spared from making my scarred life even worse. I remember the empty packets of minits he always took. He liked those mints. This would be my ignorance to later solidify my phobia towards taking chems or drugs.
There would be many future cases that would keep me away from those further.
My father twisted the metal deep inside in sternum. Crimson droplets poured to the floor as his lab coat began to stain into a dark red hue. He draped his hoof in his own blood and began to smear it across the walls. His anguish could be heard from the pain he endured. The smears soon became text, words, sentences, mostly just ramblings he did before, maybe in time I would remember them. But why would I?
I recall he had also drawn a map of sorts, at least, I think it was a map. His metal wall as a canvas did not really work too well, though at least for him the message would stay permanent. In the centre of his drawings of madness, he had drawn out the weapon still imbedded in his chest to finish his work. With a weak hoof, he had dragged the knife around the centre, a large round bloody disc formed with the blood still pouring from his wound and now down the wall. “The Sun”, he referred it as. He then drew a pair of ovals which connected to each other and left a triangluar point on the bottom.
This drawing -- whatever it was for I couldn't quite remember -- was placed inside "The Sun". "The Heart is at the Sun," he would repeat, his voice dying and getting softer as the last drops of his blood ebbed away at his life. He then perished, finally bled out. Finally, in silence.
It wouldn’t have been long until someone came around to complain about my father’s wailing. When they did, they immediately called the Overmare after seeing such a horrific sight, and a small foal covered in his blood. In the short time in between however, I had hidden away my father’s knife into a small hole at the corner of the room. Luckily his blood splatter would have eliminated any possibility that I have tampered with this “crime scene”. Only crime I saw at that time was a little foal that was horribly scarred for life. And that he was alone.
I still carry that knife with me to this day.
They sealed the wall behind another metal paneling as if to hide what atrocities my father had done to himself. They couldn’t remove it, so they hid it, and locked down the house. Minus for a few ventilation ducts they overlooked. Big enough for a foal, big enough for a knife.
That small foal would then be transported to the Stable’s orphanage. He would then grow up and be referred to as “That Pony”, that pony who witnessed his father’s suicide, that pony who was mentally scarred, and the pony that was alone with nobody to look after. Some thought that I murdered my father… argh, the stories that these foals make. That day, I began to despise those around me, the filth of my own species that was: pony.
I tossed the rat to the side of my body casually as I began to tug at the yellow wire. A part snapped off which I then immediately tossed away and rolled the rest of the exposed wire around my wrench. Wrenches are surprisingly useful. I would then pull the excess wiring along with the wrench, a few ties with my hoof and the wire would then be reconnected. Just had to make sure my head was out of the way before this fan would start.
It was a hard transition to go through orphan life, harder as I was constantly harassed. I had to learn to defend myself. Some days, I would abandon the orphanage and retreat to one of my secret hideaways in the lower levels of the Stable where I could run freely through the service tunnels and air ducts. Sometimes I would train, sometimes I would rest, but all the time, I would be thinking about my life and where I’m headed. Teaching myself to survive for years will be something worthwhile. I didn’t have magic, I couldn’t fly away to safety, and all I had was this knife. I honed my skills with my father’s blade as my only option. Sneaking back and forth between the orphanage and these maintenance tunnels became easier and easier over time. Some residents would get lost down her the moment they step in.
I could now tell how much screws were in a single ventilation duct in a specific hallway, and how many times I had crawled through that particular one.
Years passed, and nonetheless there were many ponies around me as I grew up, went to school, and got my Pipbuck, I had felt like an outcast- and I welcomed it. I would retreat to my sanctuaries whenever I needed to think, and it had always been the same two thoughts:
”I hate this place.”
And…
“I despise these ponies.”
Day after day after day, it would never end. In a city this big, no pony would care. Before I had become the lovely Stable technician that is now trying to attach the fan paneling back to its frame, I had done some quite unspeakable things. It was easy however, given my mental state. No one cared for me, and I did not care for them.
In self-defence would I be pushed to the brink to kill another living being. I stole, I sneaked, I interrogated, and I fought. I survived.
It was a harsh life. Frequently, I would have to visit the hospital. That was where I met her.
Her.
After all these years, I still remember how I first met her.
I moaned in discomfort. “Wh... where am I?” I whispered in pain, unable to speak any higher. My sights were a bright white room, dull grey bedsheets covered my body, a machine beeped next to me. I couldn’t even feel the fact I had a needle going through my hoof, but that’s what the sedative was for.
“You should be more careful,” a voice said to me. I turned to witness possibly the most beautiful mare in my entire life. Not only was her voice as smooth as the curves and chrome plating of the Stable walls, her tone carried the caring touch of the purest vocals. With her wings, and her light-ashen coat, a radiant bright green mane, she appeared angelic in my view. I could get lost in her dark emerald eyes for an eternity.
“Hey? Heeeeeey… are you listening? You got stabbed in the side of your thigh!”
I finally snapped back to my senses, still, her gaze was just as alluring. Not to mention I was a bit distracted by the shining nurse uniform that adorned her. “Umm… yeah. S-sorry about that.”
She could sense my nervousness. Not having so much contact growing up placed me in a rather shy position when she spoke to me. Her eyes softened after realizing that. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to be so brash! I’m still in training as a nurse, I just came here to update on your current condition for the doctors.” She lifted a side of my blanket with one of her hoofs. How I longed to place mine on top of hers. Be reminded, most of the physical contact I got was more violent. I had to restrain myself; she was the only pony I had met today that didn’t want me dead in some form.
She was also the only pony who I never despised in this trapped home we call Stable A104.
That alone meant the world to me.
“Let’s see…” she was looking at my bandaged thigh while trying to write information down on her metal clipboard. I thought it was adorable to see her use her wings to do that. I just couldn’t stop staring at her. “… and looks like a clean exit through the thigh, and,” she looked towards my eyes noticing that I was staring. “- and what is it?” she said defensively.
“Relax, you’re doing a fine job,” I couldn’t help but smirk to what I was going to say next. “Wh-what’s your name?” The pain still apparent in my throat, I tried to be louder for her when I asked that question.
“My name? It’s Emery. Emery Leaf.” Such a beautiful name I thought. Don’t know why, but it really suits her. “And you are… Ashen Oak, correct?” she said to me in questioning.
“Um… yes, how did you know?” I asked her with a quizzical look. Normally, I would have gone ballistic if someone had known what my name was. It would make me a target. But with her… with her I felt safety.
She held up her Pipbuck in her right hoof and I instantly recalled. All Pipbucks were linked to one another. In close proximity they can be used to locate others, in closer proximity, they can register information through arcane download through touch.
“You’ll make a full recovery in a day, thanks to the medicine this hospital has-“ she was starting.
“Wait! Please, can you make sure there’s less of THAT stuff going through my body?” I weakly pointed to the machine applying the sedatives. She looked at me thinking I was crazy. “Please… Emery. I’ve been around long enough to know how it can ruin a pony’s life through addiction. Please, any leftover can be used for the other patients. I can get through the pain on my own, I know that much. Please… Please Emery.”
Those were perhaps my first sincere words in my life. Sincere words coming from the fear I carried from my father so long ago. Something about her wanted me to be chivalrous. But I know I couldn’t accept all those drugs. Stimpacks may be fine, but everything use is unnecessary. I’ve seen too many broken ponies have their lives torn from overuse and addiction. I wouldn’t have really cared for them. This was my ticket to getting Emery to reduce the intake going through my veins.
I was waiting for her response. A nod brought a breath of relief to my pain.
“That means instead of a day, you’ll have to stay here for a week at most if-“ she said with emphasis. “I convince the doctor to your request,” she scribbled hastily on her clipboard as she spoke.
“I guess that means I’ll be seeing you more often then,” I tried to laugh, but let out a pained cough instead. Still couldn’t help, but chuckle as I buried myself in the hospital bedsheets.
She smiled a warm smile to me. I smiled. She turned to go out of my room; before she left she had turned her neck back to me. Her eyes were just as noticeable from across the room, and I shall always remember their emerald shade. “Try not to get hurt in the future though or you might have to come back here.”
Needless to say, after she left, this won’t certainly be my last visit to the hospital. Not for a long shot.
Years passed when I was a teenager. The more she saw me, the more she yelled, the more she cared, and the more we bonded over the years. Ah, the life of a young colt and mare, I would say to myself whenever I felt nostalgic. I did see her getting better at her job of being a medic each time I took a visit. Phenomenal, really. She was the reason I stopped my life of petty thievery and brawls, likely also stopped me from ending up in a morgue. She healed me, both physically, and mentally. I had found a purpose in my life, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.
One day, I rushed to the hospital. Emery had fallen down some stairs and nearly went into a coma because of that. That was far too close. And I didn’t want to waste another moment of “what if” occurring in my already shattered life.
That was the day I asked her to marry me.
And it was perfect.
Finally, I had finished my work trying to repair this fan. The moment I ducked my head away after reconnecting the yellow wires, the large fan began to rotate once more as it whirred in response, and I could feel the stifling smell of my work and sweat ease off from the cool rotary from the fan. I let out a sigh and crawl out of the small alcove where the fan was stationed with help from my hind legs.
Gingerly trying to right myself up, I could feel the stress that lying down on the hard metal flooring had caused on my back. It never gets old. I would stare at the pale luminescing lighting being rebounded again and again across the walls of the maintenance tunnels as I tried to stretch my troublesome back until I could feel-
An audible crack erupted from the base of my spine, and that gave me comfort to my agitation. Then suddenly, the lights around me began to flicker, and the whole hallway went dark. But it was only for a minute as the lights came back on as if nothing had happened.
It was rare to see a power outage like that in my line of work, though not uncommon. Thinking nothing more about it, I began to pack up whatever tools I brought along with me into my utility saddles which I had left back in the vent alcove. Going headfirst, I look inside with the help of my Pipbuck light and locate the bags. I see the dead rat on my way of retrieving them. I shake my head in disappointment, as I softly bite my lip.
To think that I held more respect to the rats that infest here than to the ponies that live here. Sometimes I wonder who really infests who.
I take my stuff and proceed down a hallway.
Around fifteen years later, there was an uprising in the Stable with a plot to kill the Overmare. Seems like ponies had finally had enough of her abuse through her justice system and wanted payback for her misdeeds. Now, I not saying I completely despised that old mare. Our current Overmare is definitely better in comparison to her. The Overmare did have the most important job of trying to keep things stable within the place. Not an easy job, else she wouldn’t have had her throat slit.
No, I didn’t care about the fact we lost our leader figure. I was more concerned trying to protect my wife while she was in child labour.
Before that, Emery had me converse with other ponies to try to break the lack of diverse social contact that had clouded me since my foalhood. Technicians lead lonely lives through the ever twisting tunnels they had to upkeep, but through Emery, that was where I had met a stallion by the name of Drill Bit.
He was no doubt, the most damn smartest engineer we had at Stable A104.
He was also the only one outside my family who I had any real trust in. We were friends; we both were good at our jobs but disliked them. We got along quite well.
So fast forward back again, and we’re at the door to me and Emery’s home trying to protect her from rogue rioters. We couldn’t leave home since the streets were dangerous beyond belief, fires ran rampart and the rioters did anything they could as an excuse against the Overmare.
Drill had made an improvised hospital for Emery in our bedroom, and it worked like a dream. I couldn’t thank him enough. Armed with pistols, we kept a watch for any pony that would seek harm. We had to turn a few ponies away that were trying to escape from the rioters. We couldn’t let them in. I couldn’t trust them. We let a family of five leave too. After they turned the corner, that’s when we heard gunshots.
The red glow of the Stable’s warning lights resonated throughout the city, basking the city in a hellish red glow. The wails from my wife in the other room did little to provide any comfort. We ran out of sedative when she was halfway through her contractions. Damn, I wish we had more of that stuff for her.
We stayed on lookout for the longest times. Our ammo supplies were rich, after all, I had planned if anything went to hell that my family and I would be prepared to survive. I wasn’t the best of shots, but I had my knife with me to compensate. That was something I was proud to have called a skill. Now, I tried my best to make this place look as abandoned as I could, however, my wife really did like broadcasting the fact that she was in painful labour. Even through her wailing and shrieks, did I find her voice to be the most soothing of creatures. Okay, I’m kidding. Never before had I heard such vulgarity erupt from the other side of the door.
Drill considered if we should put some soundproofing insulation on her door, but I figured if an emergency were to occur, we would have to get to Emery as soon as possible. I felt a horrible pain in my gut whenever I thought about a complication happening.
A curious rioter stuck his fire-charred face into our window. At that moment, I blew a shot from my pistol. Interesting how an Earth pony could hold a gun. I could’ve used my mouth; however, the recoil would’ve likely shattered my jaw. Not something I particularly wanted, I instead praised Drill when he augmented our guns with straps that easily went around our hoofs for quick and easy firing access.
Damn unicorns always make good stuff.
After shooting the rioter, a voice emerged from outside, “Here guys! There are some ponies in this building!” her voice sounded sinister with a sneer that crawled under my skin. We got behind our cover quickly as a mare and two of her goons tried to climb over our glass-ridden windows. The moment the first rioter dropped down, it was too late for him.
I still can’t believe to this day that Drill had found a damn landmine.
A LANDMINE!
The firefight wasn’t too bad; luckily the walls of the stable are heavily reinforced. Emery wouldn’t get hurt unless her room was accessed by these rioters. I couldn’t allow that to happen. As Drill, provided cover fire, I quietly crouched my way from my cover across the wall unseen. Drill managed to fell a rioter, but not before getting a bullet through his shoulder thanks to the mare leader left alive. She reloaded, but wouldn’t have time to fire the gun.
I was already behind her with my blade fully drawn.
With precision, I slid the blade right cleanly through her larynx. Weakness overtook her stature in her knees and fell to the ground choking on her own blood. Thinking we were done, I sighed and was about to make my way over to Drill bit. Suddenly, from behind me, two more rioters had snuck through the window. One grabbed me as the other cleared the window and ran towards Emery’s room.
They heard her wailing at her peak. The one holding me threw me across a wall, and tried to join up with his ally. I managed to swing my knife at him and cut his hoof on the way. He fell and Drill finished him off with a bullet to the head on the floor. The other rioter was completely free and unharmed to get to Emery’s room.
“NO! EMERY!” I shouted in horrific anxiety.
Drill had to reload, and I knew I wouldn’t right myself up in time before he accessed the door.
That’s when I realized, how much I love my wife.
The door opened, and the first thing I saw was Emery with a shotgun as the rioter’s surprised head exploded from a single round.
You do not mess with a mare in labour.
I heard crying. It wasn’t from any of us, and especially not from Emery who was panting aggressively and out of breath.
“Drill, Ash, I think it might be a good time TO HELP ME!” she screamed at the end. Ignoring his bullet wound he made his way towards her just as I did. We all had a hopeful gleam in our eyes as we helped deliver my daughter.
My daughter, Fern Shade.
She had her eyes like her mother.
Just, like her mother…
A few months after that incident, a new Overmare would have been reinstated into the vacant position. Four years after that, my wife would have been involved with a radiation leak.
That was when I learned as much about radiation as I possibly could within the Stable. I never strived for something with such determination and haste. Every day, I would show up to comfort her. Every day, I would see how much more she had decayed: her flesh, her spirit, and even her semblance to this life were stripped from her being. I still considered her to be the most beautiful mare to have ever changed my life for the better. Here I was trying to save hers as she did for me with every waking day.
My efforts were worthless.
She died.
And a part of me died with her.
I felt hollow, my bones, and my inner core of my soul felt numb with each passing day after she was gone forever. Any leftover semblance of compassion for other ponies I carried was replaced with an undying amount of anger and hate.
I became cold, lifeless. I would have spiralled further down if not for Fern. Fern was all I had left. She was my only reason now for living. I had to be strong for her, for Emery’s sake.
Still… I missed Emery just so much. Just… so much.
I love you, and I always will.
That thought hasn’t changed since the day we first met.
As I walk down the hallway, I’m occasionally greeted by the friendly faces of other technicians. They flash me their smiles. I hate those smiles. I always viewed them as a façade. They are so ignorant, so arrogant to their safety of Stable life. It’s not always going to be this way. I just hope that when the day comes, that these ponies can do more than just laugh and smile.
Safety in the Stable is just as deceptive and cushioned as the things that were advertised here. Soft drinks, machines, conveniences, buck it; we even have a sports team.
The Wonderballers? Or was it the Bolting Wonders?
Bah, foals and their overbearing imaginations. I never bothered with that stuff though; I do know that the name was based off from somewhere. Just take something and claim it’s theirs without even knowing what it is. That’s Stable life here, many ideas and not enough ponies who would step up to do them.
Actually, “free-thinking” is frowned upon here in the Stable. If it’s not about the Stable or more importantly matters concerning only the Stable, then whoever poor soul is thinking that better shove a hoof in their mouth or risk getting their hoof kicked up their flank from the security.
I sighed, as I turned a corner. Argh… I’ve been keeping my mouth shut for how long? 30? 40 years?
I hate this place; I can’t believe I’m going to die here eventually.
I notice a mirror on the wall. Hallway 26-D, yep, not far now. Guess the D must’ve stood for derpy from the amount of out of focus things that were in this hall. Plus it was disorienting to newcomers, like I said before: a single step can lead a pony to wandering forever lost. They wouldn’t even know that they went across half the city in as little as an hour.
Could also be 'D for Droid', the Stable does have plenty of mechs and assistance droids for whatever purpose they were built for. They tend to break down frequently too -- good thing I know how to salvage.
I check my appearance quickly on the mirror. I notice the darkness within my pupils, the tired bags that hung underneath them. My black beard and mane showed strands of greying, reminding me constantly that I am past my prime. Is… is that a crow’s foot? No, no no no… I’m not that old yet.
Also noticed my vault uniform was covered in lint and dusted quite well. It had lost its brilliant blue colour years ago and had dulled into a lighter shade. Quietly amusing myself while trying to fix up my dusty appearance, I was interrupted with the lights powering out once more. This time, the power outage went on for longer.
Before I could be any more suspicious than I already was, the lights came back on. I found it odd though. This hallway goes straight under the Stable doors of Stable A104. All matters of power had to be kept to prevent those doors from opening. Thing is, our electricity is powered through arcane magic. If a unicorn was randomly playing over a power box, then their own magic would interfere with the whole system briefly.
The lights flickered once more before finally returning to normal.
“Damn kids,” I muttered under my breath.
I thought nothing by it. Later, I would soon come to regret it. For now though, I had to go visit my daughter. Only fifteen and she’s the smartest botanist I’ve ever seen.
At home, I would always have time to listen to her stories and ideas.
”Dad! I know that if we just manipulate the composition of the dirt, we can grow plants in soil, ANY SOIL, that has long been dead and malnourished too!” she said to me with such excitement and wonder.
“So that means we can then grow tomatoes anywhere then? I think having dirt everywhere would be a wonderful addition to the Stable. We can call it, Dirtville,” I joked in response. We both would laugh.
Those were better times…
Oh Fern, your mother would be so proud.
I miss Emery. I hate this place. I despise everything around me.
Am I immoral? I have good reason to be.
Should I though? I always wondered that. Perhaps it was just old age talking. That or maybe I never learned to let go of my past. I've done bad things, things I'm not proud of.
I still carried the knife on me. The knife that had made my father part from this world. Maybe I could never let go. Maybe I was trapped in this state forever.
Fern kept me going. She was the only reason left in this whole Stable, this whole hellhole I made of my life, which I didn’t go the way that my father did. Every day may have been a growing challenge, waking up to an empty bed as the start to all my mornings. But I did it all for her. I did it all for her. I lived for her. Without Fern, I would be nothing. I may have still been in the darkness of my shell after her mother had died.
She was my purpose.
I couldn’t bear to lose her; those fears grew in my mind. The same fears I felt when I stood by and watched my wife being taken by the radiation poisoning. Nothing I could do. That was what frightened me the most and kept me awake through many sleepless nights.
I wouldn’t know what I would do if she were taken from me.
All I know is of one certainty…
Someone. Will. Pay.
