Sniper: Best Job We've Ever Had

by In the Shadows

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Anthro, Original Character
Length: 4482

Can the best job you can imagine cause the worst nightmares you could ever know?

The elements of harmony have been gone for over a hundred years now, and there is no easy way out of conflict in Equestria anymore. It is foretold they will return again in eight hundred years, but until then it is up to the common pony to do his duty to protect his country.

The time has come where crisis has struck Equestria again, this time in the way of foreign allies being attacked. Politics are too complicated for most, but the demand for resource can move mountains.

All this doesn't matter when you think down to the single pony in the sands of Zebrica, fighting for a country they love in a place that is thousands of miles away from everything they know and love.

Sniper for the Royal Guard, a position that housed the most elite of shooters in the entire world. This isn't the Royal Guard of the old age, this is the Royal Guard of the new age, a killing machine unmatched by any other.

To qualify to qualify for this elite group, you need an insatiable hunger for adventure, and a conscious that would put nightmare moon to shame.

Many boast that they can do things beyond comprehension of the normal and innocent mind, but behind the facade there is always that pony that was born to a happy family in a land that is so blind to all that goes on in a war.

River Rapids did qualify for this group, and he does his job with extreme pride and a sense of accomplishment. However, his psyche is under constant assault from every single time he pulls the trigger, and smashes the gavel down condemning another life to the eternal fire of Hell. Sometimes, war isn't about being able to kill, but being able to find solace in a world that revolves around killing.

The cover image is only temporary. This story does contain graphic depictions of modern violence. It is anthro, because it allows the versatility of a modern war. I am more interested in telling the story of a soldier in a more modern light, and that does involve depictions of a violent nature.

Published 2015-01-15 04:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-15 04:00:02 UTC

Prologue: Day 667

Eyes open. Always watching, never off my guard. Exhale slowly, keep the heartbeat down. Stay still or risk being caught. Inhale, hold, exhale slow.

I let my mind wander through my process, the one I had methodically practiced for many months. My mind wandered as I lie over my sniper rifle, cradling the composite stock of the beautiful machine as if it were my own child.

Inhale…

Watch over everything. Miss nothing. All in front of me is my responsibility, and I can’t miss a beat.

Exhale…

Finger on the composite stock, tapping with my heartbeat. Easy trick to keep track of when you can and can’t shoot. Get’s your mind in loop with your body.

Inhale…

Watching… Waiting… Listening…

Exhale…

The revving of engines in the distance was getting ever closer, judging by the magnitude of the noise traveling through the dusty desert air. A faint rustling beside me reminded me of my company in this stuffy and humid sweatbox.

Inhale…

“Convoy is incoming. Four thousand meters and closing fast. ETA two minutes.” The figure beside me whispered, clicking the knobs on the spotting scope slowly. “Engagement distance is eight hundred meters. Only fire if the package is confirmed to be in the convoy.”

Exhale…

I nodded silently, and reached an exposed arm to move a small chunk of concrete to cover where the side of my face was exposed. My glove was missing all the fingers, to make it easier to shoot with them.

Inhale…

“Keep eyes on the road. What’s the wind like?” I whispered to him, clicking the know on the side of my rifle’s scope. Eight hundred meters…

Exhale…

“Three point oh three kilometer per hour tailwind. Good shooting conditions. Watch for any sudden changes with the dust clouds.” My company said. I moved my finger down to tap on the side of the trigger guard, still counting every faint beat of my heart.

Inhale…

“Roger that Raptor, evac to rally point Alpha and rendezvous with Flare.” The voice beside me said. “Two thousand meters. Forty seconds to contact.”

Exhale…

My hand left the stock for a brief moment, which I used to slowly push the bolt to where it was ready to fire. My hand gripped the stock again and my finger found it’s way to the cold steel of the trigger.

I closed my eyes for just a moment, my mind wandering away from the current situation for just a moment. Thoughts of home drifted through my mind, letting me know why I was doing this, and also reminding me of what kept me fighting against death.

Exhale…

“Contact, twelve hundred and fifty six meters and closing fast.” My partner whispered to me, and my eyes opened slowly. Six troop trucks, three with machine gun mounts on top and the other three with cargo in the rear. One had an odd looking crate on the back, and my partner chuckled happily.

“Confirmed, package is riding with Hellbound. Riding truck delta, identification number whiskey three zero, niner sierra seven. Large crate, fireproof and probably blast proof.” My partner said into the radio we carried with us. “Eight hundred meters. Green light.” He said to me, but I was already ahead of him.

Inhale…

I centered my crosshairs on the head of the first driver, and steadied my finger on the trigger.

Exhale…

As I exhaled, the crosshair lifted to the top of the windshield and I squeezed the trigger ever so gently.

My rifle gave a soft PFFT! as it was fired, and it kicked into my shoulder ever so slightly.

Inhale…

The bullet struck the driver directly in the chest, making it pop as if it were an overfilled water balloon. His blood coated the inside of the truck’s cab as his vehicle veered off course violently. Moments later there was a loud crash as the vehicle flipped over it’s side and obstructed the street.

Lucky break…

I cycled the bolt like lightning and moved my crosshair to the head of the last driver, in the same spot I had before.

Exhale…

PFFT!

The bullet struck this driver’s chest as well, though in a less graphic way than the last. The driver slumped over the steering wheel and the truck sped up, before it slammed into the fifth truck. The driver of truck five jerked forward and cracked the windshield of the truck as his head smashed into it.

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

The convoy was now stuck between the two wrecks, and the troops were already filing out of the trucks rapidly and taking cover behind the corners of alleyways and the trucks themselves.

Exhale…

The machine gunner on top of truck three swerved his gun front and began to fire of random shots in our direction, the other gunner on truck five doing the same to the rear. The first gunner had been killed in the first wreck, his crushed and bloody corpse lie in the street just in front of the first overturned truck.

Inhale…

I centered the crosshairs of my rifle on the first gunner’s neck, as he was a bit closer than when I took the other shots. His machine gun rounds were chewing into the first floor of our building, but doing no harm to us.

Exhale…

The crosshairs settled on his forehead, and my finger found itself slowly pressing down on the trigger again.

PFFT!

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

The gunner took the shot in the neck, and had fallen down into the truck holding his neck as blood spurted out wildly from the wound. The canvas cover of the truck was sprayed with blood from the inside and it bled through, but it ended when we heard the faint thump of a rifle ending his misery.

Exhale…

I moved the rifle ever so slightly so the crosshairs rested on my next victim, a young looking buck clothed in the standard desert dress here, which I believe is called a thawb, and a head wrap that covered all but his eyes. Probably for the better, as I may get a bad conscious if I could see his face.

Inhale…

In his hands was an assault rifle, one of those cheap ones the zebras make out of pressed metal. His hands were shaking, and I could almost hear the weapon rattled as he shook in terror. I aimed the crosshairs just over his chest.

Exhale… Sorry kid…

The crosshairs rose to just above his head, and I pulled the trigger.

PFFT!

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

I looked on as the bullet traveled through his forehead and exploded his head before finding permanent residence in the ground. His blood and brains sprayed over the side of the truck he was next to and the two soldiers behind him. The mess was too great to tell where the shot had come from, to my relief.

Exhale…

The rest of his buddies scurried for cover in the alleyway just next to them, while the rest remained unaware of what had just happened on the other side of the troop truck.

Inhale…

Next target was wielding an RPG, and a shitload of rockets for it too. My crosshairs found themselves a home on the shoulder blades of this enemy, as he faced the building opposite us twelve hundred meters away.

Exhale…

The crosshair steadied on the back of his head, and again I squeezed the trigger, condemning another to the fire of hell.

PFFT!

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

The shot buried itself on the sack he wore on his back, which was full of explosives. Must have been a lucky shot, because not a millisecond later, the entire street around him was awash in a fireball as the rockets on his back exploded. One of the trucks was scorched, the canvas burning in a roaring inferno as the troops inside were torn apart by wood splinters and steel shrapnel from the explosion. Their blood scattered all over the canvas and truck as it was burned.

Exhale…

I grunted a bit, before looking for the next priority target. The hostile forces had begun to drag their wounded comrades away from the trucks towards alleyways as the truck that had caught fire violently exploded. The broken and twisted metal of the vehicle pounding down a few of the soldiers and tearing a few others apart.

Inhale…

As the trucks exploded one of the figures tumbled over from the blast, and I noticed something that would work to my advantage. The soldier had a bleeding mark on his leg as he stood up, and began to limp across the road. Easy shot to the leg, and he would go down.

Exhale…

When he went down, his friends would come to help, and then…

Inhale…

I centered the crosshair on the enemy’s sandal wrapped grey foot.

Exhale…

The crosshair centered on his left hip, and I squeezed the trigger gently.

Sorry kid…

PFFT!

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

The bullet ripped through the clothing of the young figure, and there was a spray of blood into the dirt as the bullet buried itself in the sand behind him. I saw his face contort in agony as he fell to the ground, his headwrap falling off as he hit the ground. I could hear his screams of pain in my head, as he lay there crying. I watched the zebra’s face, the striped coat of his face covered in scruffy facial hair. It was matted down by sweat and dirt from weeks without bathing.

Exhale…

Sure enough, a head peeked out around the corner of a nearby alley. I moved the crosshairs to watch his every move. His headwrap moved around his muzzle, so he was talking to the wounded soldier. He waved to his squad, and they ran out into the street to cover them, quite in vain as I watched them crowd around the truck beside him.

Inhale…

I looked at all the enemy troops, all of them looking about the same. Mostly assault rifles, a few light machine guns…

Jackpot.

One of the zebras facing the other way had a dusty brown steel pack on his back, consisting of two tanks of presumably napalm or a similar fuel. I took my eye off my scope, and cycled the bolt on my rifle slowly, opening the bright metal device to expose the chamber of my rifle. The chambered round ejected, and I caught it and pressed it back into the magazine.

Exhale…

I picked a round out of the pocket on my rolled up sleeve, this bullet was dark grey, and had a bright red ring around the base. I slid the titanium slug in the magazine of my rifle, and slid the bolt closed again. I placed my cheek back on the stock of the rifle, and closed my eyes and steeled my nerves again.

Inhale…

I opened my eyes and looked through the scope of my rifle back down to the street. Nobody had moved as the zebras continued to help their fallen comrade. They were placing a tourniquet on his leg so he wouldn’t die at the moment…

Unfortunately, they aren’t that lucky…

Exhale…

I moved my crosshairs onto the center of the tank of fuel on the poor zebra’s back. I put my finger on the trigger again, and let it slide to the bottom of the small steel tab.

Inhale…

I steeled my nerves again, and tapped the stock of my rifle with my thumb. It was nerve wracking, killing one after another in cold blood. Seeing their faces and knowing their fear and pain.

Exhale…

The crosshairs settled on the top of the tank, and just as every other time, I squeezed at the bottom of my exhale.

PFFT!

Inhale… Cycle bolt…

I watched in slow motion, somewhat wishing that I could bring that bullet back to me and shove it back down the rifle’s barrel. It travelled at lightning speed towards my target, and it sparked as it hit the left fuel tank.

I closed my eyes, unable to bring myself to watch as the tank exploded into a ball of fire. The dust on the ground of the building we were hiding in kicked up into a small haze as the pressurized gas tank exploded, tearing the zebras near him being torn apart by the blast or the fragments of the steel tank.

Exhale…

Images ran through my head, horrifying mental images of the few scarring images from the past eight months. I closed my eyes and let the images fly.

The small child from Uchimbaji… He was so scared when his mother handed him that rifle in her dying seconds… He was so scared… Sweating, crying… I wish he just dropped it…

Or the small family from the oasis… They were innocent… They were just trying to get away… Just caught in the crossfire… So brutally cut down by the helos…

I had lost track of time as I recounted all of these events, and as my mind lost its path, I began to shake. I lost my practiced breathing, and I took my hand of my rifle.

I was finally snapped out of my breakdown when a hand pressed into my shoulder. I jerked violently and turned over, my fist reared back to strike out at my attacker.

I was met by the tan face of my spotter, and best friend, Ripple. She was holding my shoulder, looking down at me with her blue eyes in concern.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” She said, her voice now evidently female as we dropped our whispering tone.

I nodded to the tan earth pony and took a deep breath, before turning back over and peering down the scope of my rifle at the street.

There was fire and smoke. Nothing but fire and smoke. I could hear their screams from here. The buildings were even burning as the fueled fire spread across the street. I saw a group of zebras cowering to an alleyway as the fire approached around them. I shook a bit again as I watched the uncovered face of one of the zebras.

He was a young zebra, no more than twenty years old, and he was crying as if he were a toddler. His eyes were red from the smoke, and his hands were scortched to hell. He was shaking, and saying something. I don’t know what he was saying, but I hoped his last moments were spent thinking of home, of family…

“Roger that Raptor. Convoy is destroyed, all hostiles are eliminated or retreating. You are clear to move into the hot zone. Be aware, area is covered in napalm. Give it ten minutes or so. We are going to proceed to Evac Alpha and wait for the helo to pick us up.” Rip said from beside me into the radio we had set up inside the hide site.

I continued to watch, even long after the zebras had disappeared into the alleyway followed by the raging inferno. I sighed and shook, before I backed away from the scope and closed the covers on the ends of the scope.

“Prepare to move Rip, we’ve done all we can do.” I said, standing up and picking up my rifle. I folded the bipod and slung the rifle over my back.

“Way ahead of you. You give me to little credit Rapid.” She said, pulling the antenna of the radio down, and putting a dusty desert camouflage hat on her head. She smirked at me and nodded, pulling her carbine to her chest and pulling the bolt back to chamber a round.

I nodded and did the same with my carbine, before we opened the door slowly and proceeded to the other side of the hotel we were hiding in. I took point going through the halls, the flashlight on it illuminating the darkened shadowy hallways. Rip was behind me, walking backwards and checking the doors as we passed.

We reached the back balcony of the hotel, and I looked off the edge nervously.

Earth ponies aren’t meant to be this high up…

My fear of heights kicked in as I looked down to the sandy street below. Sensing my fear, Rip put her hand on my shoulder.

“Just like back in Canterlot. Just look at the wall on the way down.” She said, smiling at me as she dropped the rappelling ropes we had tied up the day before.

“Right, just like training.” I said reluctantly, taking a deep breath. She nodded, and clipped herself to the cable, and I did the same with my cable, and I tugged on it nervously to test it.

“Don’t be so scared. We signed up for this. Best job we’ve ever had, right?” Rip said, placing her hand on my shoulder again.

“Best job we’ve ever had.” I said, smiling nervously at her before we dropped over the edge.

So, since we were sliding down the side of a sandy concrete building in the middle of the desert, it would probably be a good thing to go back to before we got here.

I was a happy child years ago, born twenty six years ago just outside the town of Ponyville, the ancestral home of the elements of harmony. A big part of the lives of anyone there, honoring the tradition of the earth pony way just as the generations past did. I was raised by a single mother in a rapidly modernizing and globalizing of Equestria.

Equestria had grown from the small, relatively isolated country it was in the days of the elements of harmony. New technologies were making the world grow smaller and smaller, especially the invention of the computer. Everything was becoming digital now, and it was almost frightening that everything was changing around us.

A lot of our elders in Ponyville liked to tell stories of old times, especially the Apple family, or Princess Twilight, whose massive castle dominated the town. Princess Twilight was the last remaining element of harmony, and her element was rendered useless with the death of the other five. Of course, the princess had her fair share of friends, but there were more students.

I attended school at Princess Twilight’s Preparatory Academy inside her castle, a luxury I was extremely fortunate to receive in my younger years. I personally wasn’t too close to the princess since I wasn’t a unicorn, but I had had some conversations with her. She was a bit on the somber side, probably still unused to outliving her loved ones as the other princesses had already grown accustomed to.

I spent most of my time trying to find out why the elements of harmony were so significant, as in my lifetime they hadn’t been used and there were no large crises. I couldn’t put my finger on what they truly meant, all I could tell about them is that they held a magical power that could prevent wars and change the entire world…

The day of my graduation from the academy, I met a tan earth pony mare, somewhat similar in appearance to me. We shared the same tan coat and blue eyes, though her mane was blonde and mine was a lightish blue.

I was walking around on the street after coming home to Ponyville from the graduation in Canterlot when we met, and I was confused. There were no ponies in the streets, or in any of the restaurants or even in the windows of any homes. I found her in a coffee shop in front of a small television set, and I entered the shop to inquire about the ghostliness of my home town.

I had just stepped off of the train back from Canterlot, the skyline was bathed in the orange glow of the pre-dusk twilight. I had weighing down on my shoulders a heavy backpack full of the few belongings I took with me to the academy three years ago. Graduation left me riding on a high as I stepped into the abandoned streets of Ponyville. As soon as I looked around, I was in awe at the absence of the usual crowds of ponies around the streets. Even at this time of night they were normally out and about doing something…

I continued to walk down the dirt road towards my house, the fact no family had come to greet me understandable because my parents were out on a cruise for their anniversary, which was a bit disappointing to me at first but it was nice to have a set of parents who did indeed love each other.

That didn’t answer why there was nopony on the streets at all. I walked down the main street (Whose name was just as such) until I hit the market. It came as another shock when I noticed all of the stalls were closed, even though the signs on them clearly stated that they should be open. It was a Tuesday evening and there was nopony out. My mind couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the concept of a quiet Ponyville.

I continued down the street, as there was nothing to indicate any life what so ever here, just looking for signs of life in my home town. My shoes made small scuffs in the dirt path, ones I would never have noticed had the town been as busy as usual, but ones that seemed to underscore the degree of weirdness this situation presented.

After walkin about a kilometer down Main Street, my worry was finally cut down as I saw a figure sitting in a coffee shop in front of a television set. Their back was to me, and I couldn’t tell who it was, or if it was even someone I knew. I approached the shop slowly, and gently tapped on the wooden frame of the open door. The color of the wood escapes me at the moment, but I do remember it being dark.

When I recieved no answer, I lowered my arm and simply listened for any noise coming from inside. I couldn’t hear the television set, which was odd because it was just in the other room.

I stood on the porch to the shop for what felt like ages as my jeams and white shirt rustled in the slight breeze. I tapped my foot, not impatiently but nervously, as I awaited any sign of life from inside the shop. When none came after an extended wait, I decided to step into the open door and onto the hard wood of the building’s interior. Ponyville had taken to building many of the shops and homes from wood harvested from the Whitetail Woods, as the town was growing beyond the small borders that it had been contained in for so many years.

When I still heard nothing, I stepped in further, brushing against a wooden chair that was pulled out and had yet to be pushed in. It was really a quaint little place, a family run shop under their actual living space. I missed places like this when I was in Canterlot. I stepped around and continued to make my way towards the room in which I had seen the glowing televison set through the window. I kept aware of what was around, to avoid hitting something else on my way towards the door, as I listened intently for the sounds of a pony, or the television I had seen before.

As I approached the next door, I heard something that made me burst through without thinking. I heard a frightened sob come from the other side of the door, and thinking the pony on the other side was in danger, I burst through the door and looked to the left where the sound had come from.

Facing me from the couch to my left was a tan mare, curled up and crying like a freightened filly. I looked on nervously, not sure what I should do in this situation as she seemingly ignored me. I thought for a moment, and did the only thing I could think of. I set my pack down by the door and walked over to the couch. I sat down beside her and gave her a hug, albeit as awkward as a hug could possibly be.

To my surprise, instead of being completely shocked or creeped out by the action (Okay, so she could have been one and/or both), she hugged me back and began to cry into my shoulder. This took me completely by surprise and my mind pretty much shut down after that. I had reached the extend to knowing how to comfort a distraught mare, or even pony for that matter.

I sat on the couch dumbfounded as she cried into my shoulder for more than a few minutes, the television set completely forgotten for the moment, and I tried to figure out what to do. I didn’t say anything, I simply let her cry for a few minutes more before I ran my fingers through her blonde mane, and shushed her a bit unsurely.

“Um… What’s wrong miss? Did something happen?” I asked unsurely, hoping that she could enlighten me as to what had caused her this much distress. She continued to cry, though her sobbing decreased in intensity for a minute, before she gathered enough strength to speak between sobs.

“It’s t-terrible… *sniff* The… The z-zebras… *sniff* They… They killed s-so many…” She said quietly between sobs and sniffs as she tried to calm down enough to speak.

I for one, was only confused further by this somewhat… Vague telling of what had happened. I expected it to be something vague like a breakup or something, not something about a lot of ponies dying. “What do you mean they killed so many?” I asked, m face more than likely showing more than enough of the intensity of my confusion.

“D-Do… Do you not know? *sniff* The… The Zebras… they attacked… *sniff* They s-sunk a cruise ship… And… *sniff* M-My family was on there…” She said, before breaking down into a crying fit again, wrapping her arms around me again. She cried into my chest as I put one arm around her again. A cruise ship?

The realization suddenly hit me harder than a bullet. “W-What… What was the ship c-called?” I asked, my voice shaking in fear. There was no way it could be the same ship, right? Just a coincidence, right?

“It… It was the HMS L-Loyalty…” The mare said between another sob. Just at that moment, my world shattered around me.

I whimpered quietly, before I hugged her back tightly and began to cry.

Mom and Dad are dead…

Author's Note

Please feel free to point out any mistakes, as well as provide some advice for anything I may have done poorly.