Tales by Balefirelight (a Fallout: Equestria Group Collab)

Dreams

by Songfire

You are not a morning pony. In fact, you hate mornings. You think that mornings should not be. You think this as you drink a black coffee that your partner made you. It is not a good coffee. In fact, you think this barely registers as coffee. And, did something just move in it? Oh well, you scull it down anyway. Anything to get you out of this groggy state.

The sun beams down on your sleep-ridden face as you step outside. Or it would, if those damn pegasi hadn't blanketed the sky in clouds. You take a look around you to see if anything had changed overnight. And the answer is the same as it was yesterday. And the day before, and the day before. Which was 'no'. Nothing has changed; it is still the same brown dustbowl, and there is nothing to break the barren landscape except your shack and a lone, but dead, tree.

With a sigh, you head back inside to see whether your partner has made any breakfast. It is his turn to prepare the morning meal. And, like always, he has delivered. Also, like always, it is just last night's leftovers - half a can of baked beans and stale bread. You should've saved your coffee to wash this meal down with.

Over breakfast, you and your partner agree that you will need to go into town to buy some more rations, and perhaps trade supplies. Ammo is running dangerously low, and you've noticed a couple of patrols a few kilometres west. These are not the good kind of patrols. Thankfully, they haven't noticed you.

The trek to town isn't a long one, but it is boring without company. Even then, it is still boring with company. Your partner is a pony of few words, considering he lost his tongue when the bandits captured him. You still have dreams, no, nightmares about that.

~~~

It was a (somewhat) sunny day, and you were on your way back from town. You had picked up a lovely revolver, at a bargain of a price. The price was eternal damnation, but since you don't believe in that branch of religion, you bought it anyway. And just living in the Equestrian Wasteland was damning enough.

You were a couple kilometres from your shack when you heard this buzzing sound. Slowly, the buzzing turned to a guttural growl and then to a loud roar of an engine, and the vehicle was upon you. Diving out of its way, your revolver falls out of your magical grasp.

The bandits exit the vehicle and surround you, demanding money. You told them you had just spent your money on a new revolver. They said they'll take it. These bandits weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, nor did they end up being the most alive. They forgot you were a unicorn and as they picked up the revolver, you grabbed it with your magic and shot all of them.

After overcoming a moment of shock, you loot their vehicle. While in the process of doing this, you find a body. Why, I could not say, but you poke the body. It shuddered, and tried speaking. Of course, after a few failed attempts at trying to understand what it was saying, you realise the body does not have a tongue.

You decide out of the goodness of your heart that you will take this pony back to town to get him looked after. He was fixed up (minus the tongue) and you have been partners ever since.

~~~

That whole flashback took you the entire time to get to town, buy the supplies and be about to walk in the door to your shack. You open the door and drop all the supplies in the kitchen, completely not noticing the blood stain and writing on the floor. After doing a double take, you creep around the corner with your revolver raised. After making sure there is no one else in the room, you read the writing:

"We had his tongue, but we wanted the rest!"

You're going to have nightmares about this one for a while.