Chapter 1: Puddles, Prophets and Puppets
Fallout Equestria: Over the Rainbow
By DerpyNate
Chapter 1: Puddles, Prophets and Puppets
War. War never changes. When the end of the world inevitably rolled around, my ancestors took refuge in a giant, underground shelter, known as Stable 34. When the ponies there were lost under a shadow of uncertainty, they were given a glimmer of hope. The Doctrine was placed under the care of my people. Here, we study and obey it, learning its unadulterated truths, for it has shown us the way in the past and it shall guide us to prosperity in the future.
Dr. Encephalon pushed his glasses up the length of his muzzle and gave me a warm smile. “Well, I just want to finish off this session by letting you know that you have been making major improvements, Sunbeam.”
I sat there on the procedure table, like I had many times before and swung my legs at a lazy rhythm.
“Yeah... I guess so,” I quietly responded back.
I hated it there. The medical bay was a stupid place that I was forced to spend a heaping portion of my life in. I particularly hated the poster on Dr. Encephalon's wall.
‘Help me help you’, the caption proposed, with a nurse looking on with big, disdainful eyes.
I hated that nurse. I didn’t even care that she wasn’t real. I hated her. I had to look at her stupid face for two days a week, since before I could remember. I had also learned to hate the overwhelming smell in there. Latex. I hated latex. Every time I smelled it, I was remminded of that room.
Dr. Encephalon levitated out a memo pad and wrote out my prescription. It was the same thing every time. Thirty capsules of Whatsa-jibber-flabon… The pills had always had the nastiest aftertaste, but I had gotten used to it, since I had been taking them for the better half of eighteen years.
“Alright, Sunbeam; You make sure to get back to your room safely and I’ll see you back here on Tuesday,” said Dr. Encephalon, as he floated the piece of paper towards me.
I slowly got to my hooves, making the short hop off the table, taking the small note in my teeth. I so wished I was a unicorn. Just being able to float things wherever I wanted, not having to taste-test anything I picked up.
“Gvhbhy,” I mouthed, attempting the word ‘goodbye’ in clenched teeth.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I had finally ascended my personal hell. A grin slowly started to cover my face while I trotted at a brisk pace down the hallway. After a few steps, something caught my attention. I slid to a stop, as my ears jutted to the full upright position. I walked up to the group of ponies that were slowly amassing around two Security Officers and… Dreamlit Skies? Dreamlit stood there, a shivering mess, as she was forced into binds. The crowd shouted obscenities at her, while the two Officers tried to force their way through the angry mob.
I tried to get the attention of the nearest pony to me.
“Hey, um…what’s going on?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
I hadn’t really known Dreamlit Skies all too well and I didn’t know much more than that she was one of Stable 34’s resident artists. Her paintings were really nice, heck, my parents even had one of them in their living quarters. I couldn’t imagine what she could have done wrong, there wasn’t a bad bone in her body.
“She is a filthy blasphemer!” spat the eggshell-white pony that I had just pulled aside. “I can’t believe that she turned out to be a dirty fillyfooler!”
“Oh…” I stood there, shocked for a minute. I didn’t expect it to be something as bad as that.
“Yeah and what a shame, too. She actually could have had some potential,” said another.
“I can’t believe I used to like her! I’m burning every one of her paintings I own tonight” scoffed yet another onlooker.
“Let’s just pray for her and hope that the Prophet is able to purify her,” said another concerned-looking mare.
Who was she with? I hadn’t seen any other ponies get detained today. And you can’t exactly be a fillyfooler if you don’t have a filly to fool around with.
The whole situation had me constantly quoting the same Doctrine verse over and over in my head.
‘And you shall cast them away, for they are unholy revelers who have caused the downfall of our people. Never again shall we allow such an abomination of mare with a mare or a stallion with a stallion’
I slowly broke away from the crowd, navigating my way back through the corridors. I pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket, remembering I had a prescription to pick up and promptly set off to the pharmacy. I found my way inside, walked up to the counter and set my crumpled prescription down. The mare attending did not seem pleased with the drips of saliva and teeth marks on the slip of paper. I always forgot her name (and the sad thing is that I totally asked every time). She went back to prep my medicine as I stood there, awkwardly shifting. Waiting in public was not my strong suit. I always felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there, or that somepony would think I was weird for standing in the same spot for too long. After shuffling about like a crazy pony for what seemed like eons, she came back with the small, white, synthetic-paper bag that held my pills.
“Thanks... uhh…Apollo?”, I lead off, hoping that I had hit my mark.
“It’s Apothecary,” she retorted flatly.
“Oh, um... s-sorry,” I mentally face-hoofed. Sunbeam, stop being so socially stupid! Alright, just pull it together, you can still salvage this. “S-so, did you hear about Dreamlit Skies?”
She paused for a moment, and then seemed interested.
“No, what happened?” she asked. I was surprised that she cared what I had to say.
“Well, she got arrested, apparently she was a blasphemer. I couldn’t believe it at first, I mean she doesn’t look the type to be a fillyfooler,” I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Good job, Sunbeam. Look at you, making conversation like a pro.
“Well…” she started. “I am personally a really big admirer of her art.”
The look on my face must have been one of pure confusion. “You still like her? What about the whole… blasphemy thing…”
“I really don’t see why we still have laws like that. Just because a pony decides to add something to an ancient book doesn’t mean we should all blindly follow it.” she said, not skipping a beat.
I could not believe what I was hearing. It was like some kind of weird surreal dream.
I waved a hoof in front of her face. “Are you alright?”
That didn’t seem to amuse her as she shot me a ‘stop that’ kind of glare.
“Well, um... you have a nice day... ” I said as I took the bag from the counter, putting it securely away into my pocket. Without letting her saying another word, I high-tailed it out of there. Why was she acting so… weird? Was it something I said?
I finally went out on my usual route back to my block.
I hummed my favorite tune. It didn’t matter how many times I heard it, it was always amazing. It wasn’t even in a language I could understand, but that made me love it even more. Everything about it was just… right. The way the notes complimented each other, the way the singer emphasized the words. I didn’t even have to know what it meant to feel her passion.
SCHLIP.
The world turned upside down as I lost all traction, my hooves sliding out from under me. I landed on my back with an audible thump as the wind was forcibly knocked out of my lungs.
I laid there for a few seconds, trying to reclaim my lost oxygen.
“Uhhhhhgggggggg…”
After a bit of coaxing, my lungs decided to work again. I laid there for a minute. Slowly but surely I got back up, finally noticing a safety-yellow sign with a stick-pony wiping out in a similar fashion that I just had. I looked down at my jumpsuit. It was wet, oh it was wet, all down the back and a little on the sides.
“Great...” I muttered to myself.
I checked my Pip-Buck and relief filled me as I saw the screen glow it's soft florescent green. I had never heard of a Pip-Buck breaking, but that just made me all the more paranoid that I, being the klutz I was, would be the one to finally pull it off. I slowly and much more cautiously proceeded on.
“Why is there so many Celestia-damned puddles?” I muttered loudly.
Shouldn’t maintenence be doing their job? And that floor totally wasn’t all the way mopped up. I could have really hurt myself!
As I proceeded down the hallway, I noticed there were more and more splotches of water all along the floor. I face-hoofed. Good job, Stable 34 maintenance team, you are ever so vigilant.
I walked into my room, tracking a few hoof-steps worth of water inside while taking off my wet jumpsuit. I let out a sigh as I looked it over. I really didn’t want to add to the massive workload that I already had. My brain chose the lazy option and I tossed my jumpsuit to the floor. My eyes drifted over to my Pip-Buck's clock. Six o’clock. Pill time.
One of my least favorite things about being an earth pony was bottles, more specifically: foal-proof medicine bottles. After years of practice, I had developed an expert strategy to opening them.
Step 1. Take the bottle with both hooves securely.
Step 2. Open wide and bite down firmly on the white cap.
Step 3. Push and turn with both your hooves and your mouth, praying to Celestia that the stupid fucking bottle opens.
After struggling with the bottle for a minute or two, I wrenched it open, shaking out one of the pills onto my tongue. I swallowed and gagged; I probably should have gotten a glass of water. I beat the disgusting taste to the back of my throat as I went through my dresser, retrieving my copy of The Doctrine. I flipped through the pages and found my spot.
‘The teachings of Prophet Mendax.’
After every new prophet is fully realized, the Stable records their teachings and publishes it into a new extension of The Doctrine, making their Celestia-driven word part of holy law.
‘The teachings of Prophet Mendax’ was a section I read frequently, as it was taken from Mendax, who is our current Prophet. I really wished I could get to talk to him in pony, maybe he would bless me! I blushed at that, but the thought soon dissolved from my mind as I reminded myself that I was not holy enough to be in his presence for an extended period of time.
After reading the first section, I set the book down on my dresser. I looked down at my Pip-Buck’s clock, It was getting pretty late. Being a Dry-cleaner wasn’t the funnest or the easiest of work, so I decided I should get some sleep. I laid down, got comfortable and tuned into the Stable 34 radio station. Right as I had tuned in, the current song ended and a jazzy interlude started playing. I decided that it was perfect music for lulling me to sleep. I slowly drifted away to the sounds of sweet woodwinds.
After a few hours, I had fallen into a particularly amazing sleep. This sleep, however amazing, was short-lived. My song crackled off the radio and was replaced by the voice of the Prophet.
“Attention, citizens. We are having slight technical issues with the plumbing. Please refrain from using any faucets, showers or otherwise until further notice. We hope to resolve the issue as swiftly as possible, thank you and carry on.”
My ears perked at that. No plumbing? I let out a sigh as I flopped back down. That was great, now I would be awkward andsmelly.
I went to sleep. It was hard to finally get my brain to settle down after that, but, eventually when another good song came on, I went out like a light.
***
I practically ejected myself from bed as the sharp blaring of the emergency sirens tore through the air.
I landed on my floor with a splish; I looked down to my hooves and noticed water that had been pooling on the floor.
“W-what the… ?”
I simultaneously couldn’t believe and didn’t understand what was happening. My heart revved up. My entire body was shaking. I could barely stand. I lifted my jittery hoof and made several attempts to press my door's button. On the fourth attempt, it opened.
More water came flooding into my room when my door slid up. The red glare of emergency lights nearly blinded me as I tried to figure out what was going on. Security Officers were herding dozens of panicked families from their homes and to the upper levels. One came running up to me.
He spoke with a hasty, but authoritative tone. “Take only what you need and get up to the Atrium, A.S.A.P.”
Without another word, he dashed to another door, alerting more ponies and helping with the evacuation.
I practically broke the handle off my dresser drawer as my panicked brain tried to classify things into two categories: ‘Shit I need’ and ‘Shit I don’t need’. I tore my dresser up, taking out my saddlebags and stuffing them full of useless baubles that had sentimental value to me. Lastly, I slipped my pills and my copy of The Doctrine into my bag, right before I ran out to the hallway. I could hear my heartbeat pounding away in my head as pain and intense pressure filled my chest. I was bawling like a filly. So far, this was the worst moment of my entire life.
I sloshed my way through the halls, making my way upstairs. Security Officers directed me with the others. I was scared; I didn’t like change. I stifled tears back as I gathered with the crowd in the Atrium.
I didn’t like being packed this close; I was getting extremely claustrophobic, which wasn’t helping my case at all. Security Officers stood at the perimeter of the herd, keeping everypony in line, brandishing riot weapons.
I looked up at the stage and the chattering of hundreds of mouths went quiet as the Prophet walked onstage, floating The Doctrine with him as walked.
“My congregation,” he started. “Yesterday, Celestia sent me a vision, a vision of you all. We shall ascend our subterranean home and spread the word of Celestia to the surface. We no longer need to hide, Celestia has promised to create a world for us outside and she has told me that we are the destined rulers of that world.”
Everypony cheered. His words charmed us; It was something we all wanted to hear. We would follow him wherever he went. He was the shepherd; We were the sheep.
“Now, everypony, the Security Officers will be distributing slips of paper to you all, make sure that everypony has one. If you are a parent, make sure your child receives one.” said the Prophet.
Just as it was said, I was given a small slip of paper. Curiously, I examined it.
‘2’
Being a slip of paper, the number two was the only thing predominantly noticeable about it. I flipped it over, wondering if there was anything on the back. Nope, nothing. I decided it would be best not to question it, I mean, this was part of the Prophet’s plan.
The Prophet’s amplified voice echoed through the room again. “Let us have everypony who received a ‘one’ stand on the East side of the room and everypony who received a ‘two’ stand on the West.”
As commanded, I, along with all the ponies in the room shifted, awaiting the Prophet’s next words with eager obedience.
His low, smooth voice came over the speaker again. “I would like to thank all of you. You are truly doing Celestia’s work today. Number ones, you will be awarded for your eternal obedience by meeting Celestia herself. I envy you and may you find Celestia’s warmth eternally peaceful.”
As the words escaped his lips, the wrong ends of the Security Officer’s weapons gravitated towards the crowd on the East wall.
The brutal realization hit me like a train. I just stood there, confused as the deafening cracks of lethal weapons sliced through the air. I can remember their faces, all the different ways each of them took it. Some mares and stallions prayed, ready to meet Celestia, some looked on with innocent confusion. Some looked in disbelief as their lives were halted unexpectedly. Fillies and colts were torn apart, not even fully understanding the situation as their lives were brought to an abrupt end. The East wall was painted a deep, shiny crimson.
“As for you, number twos, even though you do not get the pleasure of being with Celestia yet, you still have a greater purpose. You are the ones Celestia has chosen to inhabit her new world. Now, come my children. It is time to go up.” said the Prophet.
The bodies of the ‘number ones’ were quickly abandoned as we were herded further up. We passed through a set of security doors and into a dimly lit room with many, many terminals and panels that were far beyond my knowledge. I didn’t know how or what to feel. I saw ponies I knew just get… I didn’t know what to call it. Murdered? Sacrificed? Transcended to a different plane?
On the far wall, the giant steel gear that was the Stable door hung ominously.
A Security Officer went over to what appeared to be the primary panel and started manipulating the delicate machinery with his telekinesis.
The Prophet was smiling; He must have had waited years for this moment. His grand Celestia-driven plan had finally been set into action while his flock of loyal lost sheep waited behind him.
“Everypony, prepare to see the new world!” the Prophet exclaimed. The determination in his eyes was not of this world.
He looked down to the Security Officer at the panel, signaling him that now was the time. With the flips of a few switches and the throwing of a lever, blaring emergency sirens wailed and steam hissed as we all looked to the door with stars in our eyes. However, when the door opened, the only thing that was there to greet us was a wall of watery death, that crashed down upon us all.
(Special thanks to my friends and my sister who were nice enough to read through the whole thing)
Author's Note
Any and all criticisms are extremely appreciated!
Don't be afraid to comment!
Fallout Equestria: Over the Rainbow
By DerpyNate
Chapter 2: Peace
My mother worked meticulously to be sure that I looked presentable. She dragged the brush through my mane and ripped out the knots. I pouted as my eyes began to water.
“Mommy! Stop!” I protested, definitely not enjoying the feeling of my hair being torn from my scalp.
“Sunbeam, you need to look your best for chapel. Stop your pouting, it’s almost over,” my mother assured me, running the brush through my mane a few more times before giving me a good look-over.
“Spin for me, honey,” she said, twirling her hoof in a circular motion.
I gave her my best twirl, my mane and tail swishing a bit as I did so. She still thought there must have been something wrong that she just couldn’t put her hoof on. Suddenly, a proverbial light bulb flickered to life in her head and she went through her dresser, pulling out a decorative spray-bottle. I took a look at it and easily recognized it as my mother’s perfume. She gave me a few enthusiastic puffs of the sweet solution. I soon learned trying to breathe it was a bad idea as I had a coughing fit followed by a few stray sneezes.
“Mommy… am I done?” I pleaded, ready for the torture to be over.
My mother smiled at me. “Alright, go look at yourself in the mirror, hon.” With that, I gaited over to the bathroom mirror and… wow. I looked really pretty. Like... princess pretty. I smiled at my reflection and it shot me the same smile back. I forgot about the half-hour prior to focus all my attention on my reflection. I heard my mother's hoofsteps clack on the linoleum and saw her reflection slowly slip into the mirror's gaze.
She seemed proud of her work, and I was quite content with the results as well. “Alright Sunbeam, grab your Doctrine, we don’t want to be late.” I nodded and followed my loving mother’s instruction, trotting to my bedroom and taking the book in my mouth, happily following my mother as we left the room.
***
Swimming was never a skill I thought I would ever have to use in my lifetime. However, fate swiftly informed me that it didn’t care what I thought.
As the wave of death hit me, I knew my life was over. The vicious pulling of the disgustingly warm and discolored water was way too much for my body to resist. With a loud crash, I was ripped off my hooves and thrown into the depths of murky icker. The current pulled at me, violently dragging me wherever it wanted to go. My lungs burned for air, but the river didn’t seem intent on giving me that pleasure. I flailed my hooves, attempting to gain some kind of control, but it was a dying effort. The river just thrashed me around like a ragdoll. The more I struggled, the more it seemed the river wanted me. It pulled me deeper and deeper into its gaping maw. I opened my eyes. Through the murky water, I could see the surface getting further and further away. I let out my last breath of air, screaming a cry of agony that no one would ever hear.
Just as death had me in it’s grasp, life decided to show me it had a merciful side. The water threw me forward, and gradually became shallower until I washed up onto a sandy alcove. Much to my surprise, I was alive. My muscles ached so badly that any attempt to move them proved useless. The only thing I had managed to do was vomit up viscous brown water; the taste was surprisingly better coming up than it was going down... which wasn’t saying much. I hadn’t appreciated air more in my life than I had there. I don’t know how long I laid there. Minutes? Hours? Time had become irrelevant to me while I was laying at the riverbank.
When I finally regained the strength to open my eyes, I wasn’t greeted with much more than a small florescent glow in the darkness. I looked down to my Pip-Buck, its soft hum my only companion.
Thank Celestia.
It would take more than a river of filth to take this marvel of arcane science out of commission. Then and there, I had the epiphany that I probably should have been nicer to Pip-Buck technicians, instead of giving them the usual: ‘Hey! My thingy is doing the one thing again! Fix it!’.
After taking a good chunk of time to recuperate, I got to my shaky hooves, feeling heavy, my soaked jumpsuit and saddle bags pulling down on me. I brought my Pip-Buck to my vision and switched the light on. The area around me was was illuminated with a flash of white light.
I looked around. Correct to my prediction, I was in a cave. More specifically, a sandy bank of some filth river in a cave. I followed the coast of the river, hugging the wall to be sure that I didn’t fall in.
I let out a soft whimper. I didn’t like it when I wasn’t completely familiar with my surroundings. I just wanted to go back to my room. I wanted to just nap this off. I wanted to be sitting in Dr. Encephalon’s office, heck… I wouldn’t mind seeing that poster again.
I dragged on. The cave smelled like mildew and the air felt heavy, making every intake of breath an ordeal. After hugging the wall for a good several minutes, I saw a light. I found myself in a state of relief, my heart pounding as I gravitated towards it. I needed some good news very badly. I trotted forward and found the source of the light. A door; a door of all things. I didn’t know if it could even be called a door at this point, the thing was so worn and mangled that it could have been a piece of driftwood propped up against the wall. The warm light filtered in from a wire mesh window positioned at the top of the door. I don’t remember how long I stood there just looking at it. For the amount of time I stared at it, I could have memorized each intimate detail, each notch in the wood, every crack of deterioration.
I ran my hoof over it. The grain of the wood was surprisingly soft to the touch. My eyes wandered down to the handle: the rusted metal had oxidized years ago, but somehow it had still held itself together in one piece. I slowly put my hoof on it. I was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t disintegrate instantly. Behind this door was the promised land, the land that Celestia herself had made us the heirs to. I cranked the handle and swung the door open.
After I finally regained my sight, my anticipation slowly melted into solemn confusion. Gray. Miles upon miles of gray. This was… not exactly what I had expected, but I really didn’t have any merit to question Celestia. It was just a lot… grayer than I had imagined it, and I never pictured it as smelling so dank... I slowly proceeded forward through the door, the coarse sand shifting whenever my hooves made contact. I turned slowly to the sky and my stomach wretched, causing me to swallow a bit of bile that had just came up, and force my gaze to the ground. Woah. That was going to take a while to get used to. It felt like the world above me was a never-ending ocean of gray. What was even stranger was that I wouldn’t think Celestia would make it cloudy on the first day her subjects were supposed to be walking her land; her Sun was nowhere to be seen. Chills ran up my spine as I felt the cold wind blow.
What surprised me the most was how barren it was. No trees, no beautiful green plants or meadows of colorful flowers that were in all the paintings and books, just sand and rocks. I walked. My eyes wandered around the scenery: rocks. Big rocks, in the form of mountains. Small rocks, in the form of sand and pebbles. And medium-sized rocks, in the form of… medium-sized rocks.
***
Everything gradually became darker and colder as I travelled. My soaked jumpsuit started catching a chill as the breeze brushed past me. A strange sensation slowly crept through my body. I was all alone, but I felt like ten thousand eyes were staring down at me, watching my every movement. I looked over my shoulder.
“H-hello? Is anypony there?” My words were met with no response as their echo pandered out through the canyon.
My mane itched like crazy. I walked cautiously forward and after every few steps, I would look over my shoulder, and every time there would be nothing.
After a few hours, light stopped pouring in from the sky. Never before had I experienced a time when there wasn’t a source of overhead lighting. That, combined with the fact that I had to face the bitter darkness alone, did not sit well with me. I switched my Pip-Buck light on and the hopeful iridescence cascaded out a few meters in every direction. The cold perforated the innermost sanctums of my psyche, not just chilling my body, but freezing my will to continue on as well. The air was so frigid that I couldn't feel my hooves, and it was becoming hard to breathe as well. Over the sound of my teeth chattering, I heard the sound of hoofsteps crunching on the sand behind me.
My ears perked and I pivoted around, “H-h-hello? A-anypony?” I was so alone. I needed somepony right now. I needed a hug.
The hoofsteps started to get closer.
“Hello? W-who’s there?” This time, my plead received a return.
“Hey there,” said the darkness.
I went silent.
The voice had come from some unseeable spot int the dark. A tiny flicker of hope lighted in my heart as I heard the voice of a potential companion.
“W-where are you?” I asked. I slowly scanned the general area, but was unable to find where it was coming from.
“This way,” the voice rasped.
This time, I pinpointed where it came from and smiled. Finally, a friend.
“Oh, thank goodness! Being all alone out here was making me scared. Would you mind pointing me to where everypony else is?” I made sure to keep my manners in check, first impressions were very important, and in my run, I had messed up more than a few of them.
I trotted in the direction of the voice, keeping an even gait with my chin up, trying to re-compose myself out of the shivering mess that I was in. And, there he was, a red buck wearing a dingy outfit.
“Hi, I’m Sunbeam, and--” The pony tackling me from behind cut my speech dead.
I thrashed and squirmed, attempting to get out of my attacker's grasp. I bucked wildly and screamed as loud as I could. My cries for help were answered by swift kicks to my gut and throat. My aggressor started choking me, constricting their foreleg around my throat, crushing my windpipe. I wriggled wildy and pawed at the air, trying to resist as the life was quite literally being squeezed out of me. I was going to die. I was really going to die. Tears of mixed pain and sorrow rolled down my cheek as the edges of the world started to fester to black. The darkness crept in from all sides. Everything went dark.
***
Consciousness breathed life back into my senses-- well, most of them at least. For whatever reason, I couldn’t see.
I was cold, wet, and from the constant rocking back and forth, I could tell I was moving. I took in a stale, shaky breath of air and tried to process the new information in my head. What had just happened? Who were those ponies? Where was I going? I could hear them talking, but they were just out of earshot, their voices just a distant whisper. The ground I was currently on was composed of a particularly uncomfortable particle board, and splinters would jab into my flank if I made the slightest movement.
The world stopped rocking and I heard hoofsteps. Suddenly, the door to whatever I was in swung open with a rusty grinding.
“Alright bitch, ‘outta the cage,” said what I presumed was the buck.
He reached in and tore off the rag that served as a blind-fold. I finally got a sense of time as I rubbed my eyes. It was dark out, it must have been night. In the Stable it was never really dark. To simulate night, the fluorescent overhead lights were dimmed a bit to tell everypony it was bed-time.
I was pulled by what I realized then was was a collar, and I fell hopelessly onto the sand. We were in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t tell how far we had gone, as the landscape hadn’t changed much.
The red stallion levitated a cigarette to his mouth, and use magic to ignite it, taking a slow pull at the centuries’ stale smoke.
“Jacknife, how far are we from camp?” he asked as he released a noxious cloud of ill-smelling smoke through his nose.
A voice came from behind, soon followed by a body. This mare was a dark gray, almost blending in with the rest of the scenery. Her outfit looked a bit more sturdy, of rigid fabrics woven together in an intricate mesh. Her face bore a few wicked scars.
“Just a few more minutes north. Give her some water,” she said, pointing to me with a dismissive hoof.
The red stallion lackadaisically floated a canteen from his side and tossed it at my hooves. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was, but after the whole river incident, water didn’t seem all that appealing. That is, until now.
I took the canteen, practically ripping of the cap off with my teeth and started to chug. Sparse droplets of water ran from my lips and down my cheeks. After almost emptying the thing, I capped it, dropping it haphazardly to the sand.
The water had a disgusting aftertaste. It felt sickeningly warm in my stomach, like I had just swallowed a whole canteen of poison. I gagged and heaved on the sand, holding my stomach with a shaky hoof. I looked up at the mare.
“W-who are you? W-where am I?” I couldn’t help the shakiness in my voice, this had been the worst day of my entire life, so it felt warranted. However, the tears, I tried to hide back.
“Easy, kid. All you have to know is that you’re with us now. Don’t do anything stupid, and your brains stay in your skull where they belong.” By the look on his face and the shiny firearm in his holster, I was sure he was sincere. I had a feeling that ponies before might not have heeded his warning, resulting in a gruesome and untimely demise.
I nodded dumbly, whimpering on the cold sand. The mare I now knew was called Jacknife walked closer to get a better look at me.
“Sit up straight,” she said evenly. You could feel cold precision with every syllable she enunciated.
I obeyed, shifting to my haunches. Eye contact was hard for me, especially with strangers. Jacknife put a hoof to my chin, examining my face. She seemed to approve.
“Open up,” she said, in a no-nonsense tone.
I slowly opened my mouth, and she raised my upper lip, taking a look at my teeth and gums. She smiled in delight.
“Still has all her pearlies,” she practically sang.
She did the same to my bottom lip, parting it. Her hoof was nasty, grimy from what I assumed was hours of walking.
The buck spoke up, “Heh, stable ponies are always clean, plus we got her when she was fresh, she looks like she crawled out of her tin can just yesterday.” He smiled at that.
My Pip-Buck started clicking, and my attention as well as theirs shifted to it. One of the dials had moved slightly.
Okay? Thanks, Pip-Buck for… whatever that meant.
However, Jacknife seemed more interested in it than I had been.
“A model three-thousand. Fairly recent, too…” She examined its case.
“Do we have removal tools at camp?” she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
The buck’s cigarette hung lazily from his lip. “Probably. If not, there’s other ways of getting a Pip-Buck off.”
After reaching the butt, he let the cigarette fall out of his mouth, the remainders of it fizzling out in the sand.
I turned around, looking at the transport I came on. It was a fairly large cart, with a small cage stuffed in the back, along with several other crates and bundles of what I assumed were supplies.
Jacknife gestured to me, then to the cage. “Back inside.”
I swallowed the saliva that had had been gathering in my mouth and backed up a bit hesitantly.
“B-back in there?” I pointed to the cage.
I decided that I didn’t want to have my coat sanded off, and subsequently got back into the extremely uncomfortable, cramped space. Hey, at least it was better than the alternative.
Soon after, the nausea set in. The constant rocking combined with all the disgusting things sloshing around inside my stomach didn’t make for a great combination. I laid there, dry-heaving on half-rotted particle board, my Pip-Buck let out a soft chirp as I bumped it in the wrong way. Illusionary magic surrounded my face, displaying colorful numbers and figures of all kinds, only some of which I understood in the slightest.
Oh, a compass. We were going west.
The weird thing was that there were a few symbols on my compass. Three blips. Two that were close together, and one that was quite a bit further away.
Huh.
After a few minutes, the constant sensory-overload became annoying, and I tried to find a way to turn it off.
I spent the better half of an hour trying to get the stupid numbers out of my face, fiddling with the buttons and dials.
“Damnit... C’mon you stupid…” I muttered, getting particularly annoyed at technology.
Right as I was going to give up, a crackling, boomy voice rang out from behind the cart.
“Halt. Your actions will not go unpunished. Release any captives or be destroyed. You have ten seconds to comply,” the voice crackled out at a deafeningly loud volume.
I held my ears and looked through the bars. I could see a silhouette of somepony. Somepony big.
Just as the voice rang out, the red stallion decided he didn’t take shit from anypony. His horn lit up, casting a red glow across the sand around him, his magic focused on the handle of his firearm.
Before the shiny gun was even a third of the way out of its holster, the horizon cracked with light, and the figure sent a high-velocity chunk of metal whizzing through the air and straight into the horn of the buck. His bony-extremity exploded into shards, sounding just like a porcelain dish shattering on the ground. The light coming from it crackled out.
He let out a blood-curdling wail of pain that I wouldn’t be getting out of my head anytime soon.
Before he could finish his string of expletives, another round went straight into his eye, exploding out the back of his head, sending him, along with pieces of his skull and gray matter, into the sand.
I dry-heaved again, trembling at the macabre display. Oh Celestia, please have mercy. I wanted to avert my eyes and just bawl my eyes out, but I couldn’t look away.
Jacknife fiddled for what I presumed was a weapon, and the hill ignited again, casting light on the unknown pony for just the briefest of moments.
He sent a round barrelling into her chest. The resulting thump was like somepony had hit a wall with a hoof-ball bat.
Jacknife crashed to the ground with a loud ‘oof.’ She landed right in front of the cage, clutching her chest. Wow. Her clothes had literally absorbed the bullet, but it sounded like she couldn’t breath. She wheezed and coughed, trying to get up and move, a pained expression on her face.
Jacknife managed to get herself to a slight sitting position, about to drag her way to cover. Unfortunately for her, the shooter now knew to target a more vulnerable area and likewise sent a chunk of molten-lead flying faster than the speed of sound into her throat.
Oh Celestia, the sound she made. In the brief moments she was still alive, she tried so hard to scream, but all that came out were blood and garbled coughs, as if she was drowning in her own blood. Her squirming subsided after a few seconds, her own crimson essence pooling around her.
I sent Celestia a silent prayer for their souls. Hopefully she would grant them access to her eternal paradise, and they would find more peace in death than they did in life.
The pony started walking to the cart. With each step he took, you could hear the sound of worn metal grinding together. His armor looked like it weighed a ton. He walked up to the cage and his helmet’s neutral gaze met my eyes.
His tinny voice crackled like a radio, “I am Peace Machine, and you are free.”
(Special thanks to my friends and my cunning linguist of a sister for supporting me, pre-reading, and editing. As well as everyone who took the time out of their busy life to read my story. Another thanks to Sombre and Kkat for writing some of the best pony literature I have ever read.)
Author's Note
Sorry for such a long wait, but anyways, here it is!
