Making history

It was just another normal day in one of Georgia's forests.Tall pine trees loomed over the land, providing sanctuary from unforgiving weather, intense summer heat, or just as a pit stop for migrating creatures. The sun shined its warming light through the rich green needles, scattering patterns across the forest floor, creating a calming atmosphere. A cool breeze would gently shake through the canopy of the pine forest, occasionally knocking a pinecone loose which would then fall to the ground, startling a flock of birds on the way. A curious squirrel would approach cautiously, grab the cone in his mouth and then bolt up a tree and then navigate back into it's home for a mid-day nap. The forest was truly a tranquil place. The perfect camping location for families. Well, before the fighting started anyway. That and the screams.

Cries of pain and surprise now rang about the forest in place of cicadas and birdsong. The dense brown and green underbrush hiding the danger that lurked within. Clouds blotted out the sun, making the day slightly overcast and left the already depressing mood even damper. I watched men fall left and right, shades of red now decorating they're once pristine uniforms. A permanent medal so to speak. A medal I had the honor of giving.

The shots of my comrades and I were some of the more dominant sounds aside from screams. My cartridge seemed to be half empty. This however was no hindrance as I fired in short, controlled bursts to maintain ammo conserving accuracy.

Retreating enemies ran back in the direction they had formerly chased us in, the forest green contrasting with their yellow uniforms. For this reason, spotting was not an issue for us but it was for them. Instead of team uniforms consisting of a single color, my teammates were expected to gather their own uniforms or make them. Anything that wasn't yellow was considered friendly. Survival depended upon your own ingenuity. When I first joined I had trashcan armor and a pot hat. Something is better than nothing I suppose. Unfortunately, the shine of my armor had made me easy to spot at a distance and let me tell you, getting shot hurts.

I had learned from my mistakes however, and now owned a long brown western duster with more pockets that what would seem practical, complimented by a plain black tee. With these, came some cargo pants holding even more pockets and combat boots. To top it all off, I had a camo cap as well. The brown and black combo blended into the trees and shrubs that were acting as my cover.

Just then, a flash of yellow entered my vision, breaking me out of my reminiscent mood. Ducking behind a pine tree, he peaked out from the rough, sappy bark, gun at the ready, frantically searching for his pursuers. Someone else had a bead on him however, as a few shots peppered the tree he was hiding behind. Startled from the sudden fire, he bolted from cover and made a mad dash for the rest of his scattering team. I took aim at his leg; easier to shoot someone on the ground rather than running around.

"ClickClickClick"

'Damn it, my cartridge is empty.' I thought

Glancing up, I saw several men who were now in my sight manage to escape. But no matter. I smiled as I saw where they were going. I could end this whole thing in a matter of seconds.

Searching around in my pocket, I felt the oval object that I was searching for. Pulling said item into view I gripped the pin in my teeth, pulled and hurled it as hard as I could towards their supposed cover. Taking a deep breath, I shouted at the top of my lungs,

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

ENEMY COMMANDER'S PERSPECTIVE

Today was not a good day for me or my team, as we were losing more men than usual. Friend after friend fell to their unforgiving forces, an unusual turn of events. We had fought this group before, The Alliance, they called themselves. A group of several factions who had decided to combine their forces into a larger battalion.

Typically we would be able to stave off their unorganized assaults from our fort, until they called for retreat or defeated enough of their men that the rest fled for the hills. The only real reason that they banded together, was to defeat us and still acted as separate forces. Today however, they were especially resilient and aggressive, employing actual strategy into their assault.

The day started out calm and peaceful. Robins were perched in their nests up high in the pine, just now waking up other forest residents with their song. Cicadas chirped, bees buzzed and dandelions floated along the breeze. Our fort was the center of it all, a tall yellow flag hoisted high in the air, as a message to all who dared oppose us.

Tall stone walls surrounded the inside encampment and flagpole, the outside walls stained and chipped from previous battles against The Alliance. Ramparts jutted along the top, providing cover for our troops during attacks. Stone pathways alongside the ramparts had iron railings to prevent men from falling to the ground. A plain green expanse coated the courtyard, with a fire pit for cookouts and a few chairs.

In the middle of the yard was a humble wooden house, only big enough for about a dozen people due to all the supplies inside. Food, extra guns and armor, surplus ammo, we had it all.

Resting alongside the western wall, were hastily built barracks to house others. During a storm, we realised that the storage house was our only cover from the rain and could not house all our men. We had gathered planks and nails and hastily threw them together to create that mess. It didn't look pretty, but it got the job done.

It had been a calm day so far,  me and a few others were checking our food storage in order to determine if we needed to restock. As soon as we determined that our supply of tortilla chips was unacceptably low, our sentry sounded the alarm from his post on the ramparts. Running out of the shack, I saw that my men had already taken position upon the ramparts and were in position to fire upon the enemies. Sprinting up the stairs, I called upon a soldier at random.

"You there, whose attacking us!?"

He turned to face me and snapped a salute. "Sir, it's the Alliance again, Sir!"

I immediately recognized his face, a new member of our group. Robinson, I think.

"The Alliance again? Ha! This'll be over within the hour! At ease solider!" I heartily exclaimed.

But Robinson thought otherwise, " Sir, I'm not so sure, they seem organised this ti-ghk!" A sudden shot hit his helmet, knocking him off balance. He fell to the side and whacked his head upon the iron railing before slumping to his knees, out cold.

"ROBINSON! Return fire, return fire now!"

After seeing Robinson go down, my men were all to happy to oblige, spraying down on the few foolish enough to attack the main gate. This was when I made the mistake that would push us to the limit.

The Alliance had called a retreat after only a few men fell, and I made a terrible mistake. My ego, having been boosted after our swift "victory", ordered most of my troops to pursue the retreating forces so they couldn't launch a second assault later in the day. Running foolishly out into the woods, I realized the flaw in my plan to late. Our uniforms were yellow while the Alliance used whatever they could find, which was mostly dark jackets. You could probably see the issue. Literally.

The fleeing attackers jumped behind a fallen tree on a collapsed hill, a small crawlspace underneath it. I assumed that they were using it to hide, as we didn't see them continue running. I had used crawlspace before as cover from rain so I was aware of its location.

I notified my men of this fact,

"There's a depression down there that I think they're hiding behind. Be careful."

My warning went unheard by some of them as about a dozen of my men raced to the log before me, vaulted over it, but pulled a twist in the air, causing them to land facing the crawlspace with guns at the ready. I heard a shout followed by a large amount of gunfire, more than just a dozen guys. Creeping up, I cautiously peering over log and saw the dozen or so men who had vaulted over all lying on the ground as a score of the Alliance stepped out from under the log, not bothering to look up and see us glaring down upon them.

While surprised at the use of an ambush, I kept a level head and motioned for my men to stay quiet and take aim. Just as I was about to give the order to fire, six Alliance soliders stepped out from the woods on both our sides and opened fire. The ambush wasn't over yet. My men managed to retaliate, returning fire to their respective offenders. Unfortunately, we forgot about the score of soldiers below us, as they climbed up the hill while we were distracted and began firing as well. At least another dozen men fell until I realized this was one fight we couldn't win and called for retreat.

So here we are, running for our lives, well, the few remaining men who still had them anyway, all because of a stupid mistake by an overzealous commander. Among the screams of others, I barked an order, well, more a request really, to my remaining men.

“We need to get out this area and find cover! They’re picking our men off one by one from the cover of the trees!"

"Sir, what about that ditch?" one shouted.

It was a fairly good idea, a few yards away was an old riverbed long since dried up. The remaining trench appeared deep that you could almost stand in it and be safe from fire.

"Excellent idea Tomas! When we get out of this mess, remind me to promote you! All men, get to the trench!"

"If we get out of this mess..."

"Hey, don't talk like that solider! Now get your ass in that ditch!"

"Yes sir!" Snapping a quick salute, he dove into the riverbed along with a few others, myself included.

After our heads were down and my men were crowded around me, I asked for some much needed intel.

“Quickly, how many men are-

A voice rang out over my own,

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Jerking my head skyward, I saw a small rock or something barrel towards our position. My eyes widened in realization. That was no rock. Shouting soon broke out among the remaining men.

“GRENADE!”

“INCOMING!”

“TAKE COVER!”

"WHAT COVER?! WE'RE IN A FUCKING DITCH!"

The grenade landed in the midst of our numbers. A few tried to climb out but we're promptly shot, falling back into the ditch with a thud. One man however, didn't seem to notice that the grenade was right in front of him.

“Joey, get away from that!”

“Get away from wa- Argh! It hit me! Oh god, I can't see, I can't see!” he cried.

I waited a second, expecting another man to go help him, but no assistance came. All around me were my men, every single last one of them. Lying in front of my feet was a single solider, his chest covered in red. He had jumped in front and shielded me from the blast.

The one known as Joey, was laying on the ground clutching his face. His body went limp soon after. Replacing the sadness of lost lives around me with the hope of saving one, I immediately made my way towards him.

“No, Joey! I’m coming, hang in there!"

I ran over to where he was laying, jumping over large rocks and traversing the occasional shrub before reaching his limp body. Grabbing his shoulder, I began to pull him to his feet.

"Come on man, move! Your not done yet!"

Using the last of my strength, I hauled him up to his feet and threw his arm around my shoulder.

"Let's get you home solider." a groan was the only reply I received.

"Sorry, but I can't let that happen."

Looking up, I saw an Alliance member with a brown trench coat, cargo pants and a camo cap pointing the barrel of a gun at my chest, a crazy smile on his face.

RICHARD'S POV

The look of surprise on his face was priceless, I could barely hold back my laughter. Aiming at his chest with a stupid smile on my face, I pulled the trigger and watched him gasp, shocked at the abruptness of it all. Still smiling, I turned my attention to the wounded solider he was so heroically trying to save, he was still moving, making him the last enemy still standing. Well, not standing, more like wriggling. Pointing the gun at his head, I shot a single round towards his helmet.

SPLAT

"OW! Jesus man, I'm dead! You don't shoot dead people!" he exclaimed, hands scrambling to wipe the paint off his goggles in order to regain vision.

"And what the hell was with that 'I can't let you do that' act? Jonathan questioned, now getting up and clutching his chest where I had shot him, an annoyed look on his face.

Nonchalantly, I replied, "Dude, if your dead, then don't squirm around and as for my 'act', when my Co2 cartridge ran out, I chucked a grenade in the ditch expecting to hit everybody in that tangled mess of people, but when I saw that the enemy commander, a.k.a. you, weren't hit, I just went Space Odyssey on both of ya." I replied, a stupid grin plastered on my face.

"Yeah, we can see that Mr. Hal 9, but that doesn't explain why you shot Joey in the head for trying to get comfortable! I mean, if I died and wasn't comfortable, I would move around too." Jonathan replied, obviously not getting my sense of humor.

"Dude, it's just a paintball! It's not like I was actually shooting him or anything. Plus, if you actually died, you wouldn't be moving." I replied

"You know what he meant. Besides, it still hurts when you get hit. A little distance would've been nice. I mean, my head's gonna be ringing for awhile and Jonathan's gotta have a nasty bruise by now." Joey had pulled himself off the ground, and was looking at me rather irritably. Or at least trying. His goggles still had paint smeared all over them and gave off a 'crazy artist' kind of vibe.

"Yeah man," Jonathan piped up, "and how the hell am I supposed to get all this paint off my shirt in time? I need this for a clam bake with my family tonight!"

"Okay," Joey re-took the stage, "first off, this is paintball, and the first rule of paintball other than wear eye protection is don't wear anything you don't want ruined, second-"

I interrupted, "I thought the first rule of paintball was, don't talk about paintball?" Jonathan snickered at that.

"Second," he continued as if nothing had happened, "is that your shirt is YELLOW," he leaned in for emphasis, "and you were hit by a YELLOW paintball." This time, I snickered at Jonathans expense.

"Third, you modelled our team uniforms after your ugly ass yellow polo shirt?" He questioned.

Jonathan seemed to shy away from this question, averting his gaze from our own.

"Well, my girlfriend might have, I mean it's not like it was my idea or anything..."

Me and Joey just started at him with our mouths hanging open while he sheepishly rubbed his shoulder. Then we burst out laughing.

Between laughs, I managed to spit out,

"Y-y-your gi-girlfriend m-made your tea-hahaha, your team's uniforms?"

Joey said nothing as he was busy clutching his side while shaking with laughter, tears rolling down his face.

Cheeks puffing up indignantly, and blushing slightly in embarrassment, Jonathan spluttered out, "S'not funny!"

"Oh yeah, it is." Looking up, I saw an opposing team member, painted in several colors of the rainbow, holding his hand out.

"Need some help there guys?"

Graciously, we took took his hand and after three trips, managed to get all of us out. Now out of the ditch, we looked around at the newly painted forest. The trees were splattered with blue, yellow, red and green paint, the original brown completely absent in some areas. Emerging from the woods, I saw both multicolored friend and enemy alike clamor around us, either telling Jonathan his team did the best they could, or congratulating me for ending the game.

"Awww, yeah!"

"We did it, we won!"

"Sorry that you couldn't handle our overwhelming awesomeness!"

"You guys just got lucky."

"We don't got no luck man, we got skillzzz."

"Pffht, whatever dude.

"U jelly bro?"

"Go shove your stupid jelly up your ass."

"Never mind, he ain't jelly guys, he's butthurt!"

"OHHHHHHH!"

After the talking had sufficiently quieted down, Jonathan managed to voice the question on everyone's mind.

"Hey Richard?" Jonathan asked.

The talking immediately came to a halt on the his side, while my team stood still, boastful grins etched upon their faces.

"Watchya need?" I replied, knowing full well what the question was.

"In that battle, how did you manage to beat us? I mean, usually you just come up to our fort and start shooting. Today though, you seemed to have a strategy. What's with that?"

I opened my mouth to speak but one of my teammates spoke for me.

"Well you see," god he sounded so full of himself, "after Richard here gave a riveting speech about us being too white for our own good and how you guys were all redheads, we decided that what we needed was a leader, and we all elected Richard to fill the role, right guys?" Loud agreements followed his question as my team cheered for their victory again.

Jonathan and his team turned to face me and asked, "Okay, what really happened?"

Rubbing the back of my head, I said, "Well they were kinda close, I had compared our team to the White army and your team to the Red army."

Obviously confused, Jonathan intelligently asked, "Da fuq is dat biotch?" followed by laughter from both teams.

Sighing, I asked, "You know about the Russian revolution right?" Blank faces meet my question.

"Oh my g-, you know what? Fine. Time for a history lesson!" I said while clapping my hands together

"Aww, come on man! You do this all the tim-

"Shut up and listen!"

"Fine..."

"WWI," I began,"a new era of warfare involving all of the earth's superpowers. Near the end however, Russia was going through some tough times. See, the people wanted more political power, but Russia's Czar-"

"What a Cesar?" One asked, raising his hand.

"Dude, this isn't school, you don't have to raise you hand and to answer you question, the czar, is like their leader." I blankly stated.

"Ohhhh..." Several others nodded in understanding. Seriously, how did these people pass the tenth grade?

"So it's not a salad?" suppressed laughter rang throughout the congregation.

Slightly annoyed, I continued my lecture, "As I was saying, the Czar wanted all the power to himself. After ordering his guards to fire upon unarmed protesters outside his palace, the people decided that more drastic actions needed to be taken.

The Bolsheviks, answered the call. A group of radical revolutionaries, they embraced this idea as a go-to strategy, using war too achieve their goals. Many people supported the Bolsheviks and wanted them to win with the belief that their rule would bring the country to its former glory. They took over a large population of other rebels who called themselves the Soviets,"

"The commies are in on this?!" Several of them gasped in horror and I noticed more than a few people raise their weapons just a little higher, their American spirits detecting a threat to democracy.

"Eventually," I continued while glaring at several off them, " with their bolstered numbers, they stormed the Czar's palace and forced him to abdicate the throne.

"After a while, the people became upset once again. The Soviets didn't have enough resources make all the changes they promised, and the people once again wanted a new government. An extremely large amount of Russians who banded together became known as the White army and tried to fight off the Bolsheviks, who took up the name of the Red army, by attacking the palace where they had taken up residence. The White army should've won, they had a few hundred thousand men vs. a few thousand on the side of the Red army. The Bolsheviks still won because they were united and worked as a team. The White army was often fighting themselves instead of the Red army because of different ideas on who should take over after they overthrew the Bolsheviks. In fact, at one point, there were three separate White armies all throughout Russia."

"And that's why I compared you guys to the Red army and us, the Whites. We had strength in numbers but didn't cooperate, while you had a plan. You always won from the safety of your precious fort, so we lured you all out." I took a deep breath, my long speech now over.

"Which by the way, is our fort now." someone added matter-of-factly.

"Damn... I was hoping you would forget about that." Jonathan murmured.

So, a little background on our game, we play paintball at Jonathan's father's ranch, which is 10 or so acres. He claims that the stone fort was there when he purchased it, and has no idea why. But hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth right? He lets us play paintball on the place as long as we scrub it down once a month. It started off as only 4 people, but eventually expanded to almost a hundred due to the rules, popular location and Jonathan marketing the place off as an intuitive and immersive role-playing paintball experience for the low low price of twenty dollars!

Several teams fight for control of the fort. The idea was to storm it and replace the occupying team's flag with your own or 'kill' off most of the other team to gain control. After Jonathan's forces managed to hold it for more than a month, a few other teams combined to form the Alliance with the idea of gaining control of the fort.

"Well," Jonathan started, "you can have it next Saturday cause it's getting dark and I'm hungry." Some of us glanced up at the sky, coated in purple-pink hues with the cloud lines tinted orange while the sun itself watched over the proceedings. Others glanced down at their gurgling stomachs, realizing that they were indeed hungry.

"LAST ONE TO GOLDEN CORRAL HAS TO PAY!"

Casting my gaze forward once again, I looked around to see only dust trails in the distance as everyone raced back to the town, eager for food.

"Well so much for that..." I muttered.

It's not like it mattered, I had better things to do anyway. Making my way back to the fort, I stripped nearby pine trees of their bark as I passed, replacing the colored bark with the original brown. I decided to stay in the forest for awhile and look around for the treasure.

Jonathan's father's uncle had visited the ranch once and struck up a conversation with me due to our mutual interest in history. I'm a huge history buff and despite my friends' opinion that history wasn't important, I always disagreed with them. History is like a big book of ideas, allowing us see past mistakes so we can take steps to ensure that that the bad stuff doesn't repeat itself, or remember how to do the good stuff, should we need it again.

Aside from our mutual love of history, I wasn't sure what to think of his father's uncle. He was polite but I was unsure about his mental condition. He was a veteran from WWII and even took part in the invasion of Normandy, so I chalked up his delusions to post-traumatic stress disorder. After the war ended, he purchased this plot of land and was strolling through the property. On the very first night, he claimed to have seen a Heinkel He 111 crash into the ground, even though the war was over. He ran to the crash site but was unable to find any remains or evidence of a plane crash, but still swears that it happened.

While I was highly doubtful of this story, the prospect of finding relics from the war always made me check around the area just to be sure. I had been scavenging around with the aid of some friends for a few months, telling them friends that we would become famous for finding a plane wreck. As of last week however, all had given up hope for lack of my promised publicity. I decided to would give it one last search, items of historical significance were out there and needed to be saved. First however, I needed to get out of my outfit and put away my stuff. I never left my paintball gear at home after I broke some ammo bottles. My carpet was ruined after that.

On my way to the fort however, I started to hear some noises coming from the woods. Growling to be precise. I didn't think that bears lived around here, but I defied the horror movie stereotype and backed away from the sound.

'Oh well, I'll just drop my stuff off at the old fort.' I thought optimistically.

My old fort however, was an old outhouse some guys had built when Jonathan got mad about stepping in... stuff, while chasing down other paintballers. No one ever got around to using it though, as someone else happened to work part-time with a construction company and 'borrowed' a few port-a-potties, scattering them throughout the forest. I decided to not let the outhouse go to waste however, and threw a coat rack up in the ceiling plus a single shelf so I needn't take my stuff home.

Walking away from the bears general direction, I doubled back after a few minutes, taking a big arc away from my original path. I noticed that it was getting very dark very quickly. Too quickly. Glancing around, I also noticed that the trees weren't multicolored anymore. It appeared as if the large paintball game hadn't even occurred. The growling also returned but this time, I didn't think it was a bear.

hhchhrhhyhhshhthhahhlhhs

"Who the hells there?" I swirled around, paintball gun at the ready and saw a large, shiny black rock that was eager to meet the rest of my face.

Without warning, the rock shot out a jagged spear aimed for my leg. My survival instinct kicked in and I managed to jump over the projectile and land gracefully on my face. Scrambling to get up, I was hit by the side of the spear as it swung back around, sending me a few feet away and into a tree. I was fairly certain that I had cracked a rib due to a recurring pain whenever I took a breath. Once again aiming my gun, I fired off paintball after paintball, managing to coat the large rock thing a few shades of blue and yellow.

Unfortunately, this appeared to do little else other than aggravate the creature, as it slashed it's jagged spear back at me. I prepared myself for another hit to the abdomen, but only noticed that I had stopped firing. I looked down at my gun and saw it lying on the ground next to my leg and a severed hand. Glancing back at my right arm, I noticed that the area where my hand was, had been replaced by nothing and my wrist was bleeding profusely. I opened my mouth to scream, but was interrupted by the rock creature. This time, the jagged spear lunged straight for my chest but broke off into separate pieces on the way. The sharp end piece went straight for my nub, piercing into the bone. Blood and bone fragments oozed out from the wound, my pants coated in a new shade red while the ground eagerly sucked up the leftovers, erasing any trace of blood with the exception of a darker patch of dirt. Blood wasn't gushing out anymore as the rock was blocking some of the flow, so I probably wouldn't bleed to death.

I once again opened my mouth to scream, but only managed a few gurgling sounds.

The pain was horrible. It was like someone had broke my arm, then saw fit to beat it with a baseball bat for a few hours. I looked up just in time to see the other half of the spear careen toward my face.

SMACK

I knew that fucking thing wanted to meet my face. Instincts once again took over and I enacted the oldest known tactic for evading threats. Playing dead. I rolled over onto my back and my eyes fell almost to the point serves couldn't see. I forced them back open, if the creature didn't care that I was dead, then I needed to know when to run. My vision seemed off however, everything looked slightly distorted and my peripheral vision was blocked by black circles.

'Is this what a concussion feels like?'

I didn't have time to delve into the subject much more, the rock monster had raised its arm up high, and was poised to strike. Now was my chance, if I had any hopes of getting away, I needed to act while it was distracted.

I got to my feet and was promptly bludgeoned across the head by the creature's spear whereupon I thought I heard a demon-like voice before blacking out,

SOON...

Pain.

That could best describe how I feel. My wrist burned with a fiery passion but I couldn't seem to suck in enough oxygen to sufficiently scream. I was aware of lying on something lumpy and couldn't care less due to the amount of pain I was in. Blankly staring straight ahead, I could only make out a smidgen of light that seemed to be a mile away and everything else was just darkness.  I tried to call out but nothing escaped my lips except for a muffled groan. I moved myself around in an attempt to get comfortable, realizing that I was enclosed in a small, cramped space and that Jonathan and Joey were right.

Hands.

The very thought of those appendages brought me back to reality as I cringed at the burning sensation. But then a thought struck me, my hand had been cut off by the strange rock creature, so why was I feeling pain where my hand used to be?

Moving my left hand over to my right arm, I traced its figure down to where my hand was. At the the spot of my wrist, I felt a large, painful bulge of skin encircling what appeared to be a lumpy object with a smooth finish.

'Oh yeah, the rock spear.'

I should probably be panicking in a situation like this, realizing that that something was impaling my arm, but I was just happy to be alive, the spear perfect evidence of this.  Unfortunately after a few minutes passed, I realized that help might not be coming anytime soon and while the spear had stopped some of it, blood still seeped out of the wound and bleeding out was a very real possibility. I needed to man the fuck up and try to find help or just keep writhing in agony until help found me.

Attempting to push myself up proved futile, as my left hand sunk into whatever I was laying on with a clinking sound as I felt something sharp pierce my skin and lodge in place. Ripping my hand out of the floor, I felt a strong stream of warm liquid run down my arm. With no foreseeable escape, and what I assumed was a large open wound leaking blood on my left hand and the stub of my right hand bleeding as well, I just sat there, unmoving, waiting for the end.

"I never thought I would die alone, much less by bleeding to death, but I guess I've got to go somehow." I get philosophic when in danger.

I noticed that my voice sounded odd though, like I was covering my mouth with a cloth. I tried to stand up in my dark prison, but instead felt something bang against my head. Reaching up with my left hand, I discovered that I was wearing a metal helmet of some kind. Moving my hand down said helmet and grunting in pain when the new hole in my hand got caught on the lip of the helmet, I felt large mass of what appeared to be rubber. Dragging my hand around my face, I predicted that I was wearing an old gas mask with large, separate holes for the eyes that appeared to be missing the glass coverings as I accidentally poked my one while feeling around. It also had a single, large metal nozzle that connected to a filter that ran down from the middle, indicating it's age. Gas masks of this type aren't very common anymore. I couldn't manage pry the mask off what with my hand being injured and all. Reaching up with my other hand to help grasp the mask, I attempted to pull it of before recalling that my right hand had been cut off.

"What the h-"

MOVE  YOU PATHETIC SLAVE! YOU HAVE NOT YET FUFFILED YOUR ROLE IN THE SLIGHTEST!

The sound of an unknown voice booming right above my head coupled with the desire not to meet whomever the voice came from, re-solidified my cracking resolution as I flung the entirety of my weight towards the light.

Well, actually that voice scared me so shitless, I wouldn’t put it past my bodily capabilities if I propelled myself forward by emptying my bowels at subsonic speeds.

I was surprised to find that instead of the light being miles away as previously predicted, it was actually just a few inches away. I managed to burst through a lid or cover of some sort. Well, half of my body anyway. I was left hanging over an edge with the floor only a few inches away. The ground was littered with trash, decomposing food scraps and appeared to be made of dirt. Realizing that I had been holding my breath, I took a long gulp of the air. I was somewhat surprised that I didn't smell any of the food scraps.

'Oh yeah, gas mask.' Reality reared it ugly face through the door.

"Oh shit! Gas mask, scary monster, my hands, Communism! NOOO!"

Both hands shot up to my face instinctively. Unfortunately, this shifted my balance and I fell to the ground face first.Groaning, I lifted my face up off the ground and looked behind me. I saw my crotch kissing a sheet of blue metal that looked like it had seen better days as it was rusted and covered in graffiti. I immediately broke up the non-intimate moment, pulled myself up and turned around. I'd been laying in a fucking dumpster and the lumpy surface that my hand sunk into was presumably a trash bag.

Looking down at my right hand, I was deeply disturbed by what I saw. Instead of having a black spear lodged in where my hand should be, the black spear WAS my hand. It had formed a replica of my old hand and despite being very lumpy, appeared to have a polished finish. Defrauding from the palm, were five digits of varying length closely resembling fingers, the only difference being the sharpened point tat the ends. Experimentally flexing this appendage proved that it was indeed connected to me. I then moved the base of my hand around but stopped after experiencing an intense pain. Pulling the bloody sleeve of my trench coat down, I saw the issue. The 'painful bulge' I felt earlier looked much worse than it felt.

The bulge was a large area of what appeared to be infected skin. Several lumps stretched the skin more in some areas, but the ever prevalent color of red etched across it no matter the area. Poking one of the smaller lumps caused a mass underneath to move away. Based on this, I concluded that this was an extremely large infection, with puss manifesting in the worse off areas.

I needed to find a doctor to not only remove the puss safely, but to possibly amputate my new appendage. I wasn't an anatomy expert as I stuck to history for most of my studies, but I knew for a fact that hands shouldn't turn black and take on the appearance of badly cut glass.

NOT GLASS! Never insult my precious crystals...

"Wa-what? Who's there?!"

JUST YOUR SAVIOR.

NOW OBSERVE YOUR OTHER HAND PUPPET...

Deciding to do as bidden rather than risk upsetting a crazed maniac with some speakers, I brought the hand into vision.

NOW PLACE YOUR flesh HAND IN THE PALM OF YOUR CRYSTAL HAND...

"But, if I move my wrist I mi-"

DO IT!

Immediately obeying, I turned my hand, now apparently made of crystal, over and placed my other hand in it's palm. As soon as I saw the wound, I began thinking about what could have been sharp enough to pierce straight through my hand to the other side.

Then, I felt a tingling sensation run through the cut. What was peculiar however, is that it didn't hurt anymore. That, and the fact that my hand was now smoking as well. The smoke was a thick black and I couldn't see through any of it. Emanating from the crystal appendage, it wound it's way up and around my other hand, flowing through the cut from one side, and coming out the other. A small glass shard fell out of the gash, falling to the ground and shattering into several smaller, bloody pieces. The gash then began to seal, both sides of the cut being pulled towards the center before glowing purple and disappearing altogether.

I started at my right hand in wonderment, the pain in my wrist forgotten as I tentatively flexed the appendage. No scar or mark of any kind remained, no proof it ever existed.

GOOD, YOU ARE CAPABLE OF LISTENING, I FEARED I HAD WASTED ALL MY MAGIC RESERVES SUMMONING A WORTHLESS CORPSE!

Magic? Summoning? Obviously this man was crazy. What was worse though was that I was at his mercy.

"Wha-what do you want from me?"

MANY THINGS MORTAL, MANY THINGS. I SUPPOSE THAT WHAT I DESIRE MOST IS WHAT YOU HAVE, A PHYSICAL BODY

"A what? What does that mean? How can you not have a body?" I felt my body temperature rise in anger, he wasn't giving me any realistic answers and was probably incapable of doing so.

I OWN YOUR SOUL MORTAL, AND I CHOSE TO SAVE YOUR PITIFUL BODY FROM DEATH, SO DON'T ASK ANY QUESTIONS!

"Yo-your bluffing! No one can own another's soul!"

REALLY? HOW'S THIS FOR PROOF?

"What? What are you going to d-AHH!"

Looking down at my right arm, I discovered that my new hand was slowly crystallizing the rest of my arm. Very painfully. Crystals seemed to rise right out of my skin and connect with the hand, purple lightning arcing between them. Blood and yellow fluids began to ooze out of my wrist, causing the previous burning sensation to return.

"I-I-I get it! You got me! I'll stop questioning you!" I managed to squeak out.

ARE YOU SURE? I WANTED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN IT REACHED YOUR TORSO...

I then realized that whatever the hell this thing was, it wanted to cause me pain. For the sake of survival, I needed to adjust my approach. Maybe instead of trying to defy it, I should appeal to it.

"Nope, definitely no, you proved your point, and might I add did so magnificently!

I- WHAT?

"Oh yes, to be able to harm another without even touching them? Quite magnificent. I bet you could give Vlad the Impaler a run for his money." I replied in what I hoped was an earnest tone.

WELL, PERHAPS YOU AREN'T COMPLETELY WORTHLESS.

YOU MUST TELL ME MORE ABOUT THIS VLAD THE IMPALER SOMETIME.

"But of course!" I replied, actually enthusiastic,"I could tell you all about history! But, I am most certain that you already know all about our history."

AHAHAHAHA! YOU STUPID MORTAL! YOU HAVE NO IDEA DO YOU?

This troubled me greatly. This... thing, seemed to know something I didn't. The only thing greater than strength, was knowledge. Like in wars for example. Knowing where the enemies troops are positioned is key for flanking manoeuvres or avoiding them. Not knowing something with an entity that could probably kill me if it thought to hard, was very troubling.

"What do you mean?" My question fell on deaf ears. It either didn't care what I had to say, or my question was drowned out by the sound of its laughter. I was starting to get angry. I hate it when others ignore me when I need to know something.

AHAHAHAHA!

"Hey! What don't I know?!" I snapped

TELL ME, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

I was getting so pissed off at the narcissistic voice, I elected to reply like a true smart ass.

"Planet earth."

INCORRECT

"What do you mean, incorrect? I can't possibly be anywhere else!" I was so angry, I had begun to shout.

"Hey, did you hear something down there?" I heard a voice say

"Let's check it out." another replied

NO! YOU MUST LEAVE! THE GUARDS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO SEE YOU!

Reality then reappeared, "Guards? Not earth? What kind of sick game are you playing? And where the hell are you!?"

"I knew I heard something!"

"Come on, it sounds like a fight."

I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS...

"Oh yeah? Well what the hell are you gonna do? Hurt my hand again? Ooo, I'm really scared!"

I should probably listen to that thing in the future. A large cloud of black smoke emerged from the dumpster I had been laying in and quite quickly, rushed towards me. I turned around and ran towards the voices, figuring that any help would be appreciated. The smoke monster realized what I was going to do and cut off my path before I could reach it.

QUICKLY YOU FOOL! DOWN THESE STAIRS!

This time, I noticed that the voice seemed to be coming from the smoke monster. While I didn't want to listen, it seemed a better alternative than running into the monster. Rounding the corner of another dumpster, I ran down a glass staircase that seemed to go down to unknown depths.

Reality's friend, reason, made a guest appearance and issued a mandate stating that glass stairs shouldn't be in alleyways. I didn't heed the warning however, and continued running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and runn-

"WHY ARE THERE SO MANY FUCKING STAIRS!?"

Quite suddenly, the stairs came to an abrupt end. A door appeared out of thin air and seemed to float in place, begging to be opened. Reason once again decreed that this was a horrible idea and it was in my best interest to walk back up the stairs. One glance behind me deterred me from this course of action, as the large black cloud of smoke was pursuing me down the stairs.

CRYSTALSSSS...

Chucking reason away with a catapult, I grabbed the door, flung it open, stepped inside, slammed the door behind me, turned around and was met by three strange creatures all huddled around something in the middle of a rather spacious room.

"Wat."

All previous grievances and pains were temporarily forgotten as I, after looking at the creatures for all of a split second, came to the conclusion that these were from the television show My Little Pony.

How did I come to this conclusion you ask? Well the only time I have ever seen a colorful horse with what I assumed were branding marks on their flanks, came from the really loud, colorful commercials that interrupt my Goosebumps montage on the hub network.

I don’t really hate the show, I just choose not to watch it on principal. I avoid that subject like it has the fucking plague because it could ruin several friendships that I had.

Reality and reason agreed for once, both essentially saying “Nope” as I turned to leave the room. This didn’t happen however, as the door was no longer there.

“Crap! I mff-” Shooting both hands up to cover my mouth as there were others in the room, I slowly turned around, preparing my body for one to be right behind me.

Instead, they were all still huddled around something and not moving. They looked weird, like they were frozen in time. Cautiously approaching from the side, my theory proved correct, as they were staring at a large purple and green lizard proudly holding up a glass heart. Without blinking.

'Okay, this shit is really creeping me out now.' I suppose one of the reasons for this was that I hated anything that didn’t blink.

I only recognized the purple unicorn as she was usually at the beginning of the commercials running into a box in order to turn into a toy that looked like a hideous Barbie doll. I already didn’t like Barbie dolls cause they don't blink, they didn’t need to ponify them too and give me more nightmare fuel.

She looked odd however. She was smiling compassionately at a lizard thing holding a sculpture, who was looking very proud of itself. The smile seemed fake though, like she wasn’t really satisfied with the outcome of something.

Next to the purple one was a bright pink, winged unicorn. Seriously, what am I supposed to call that, a pegacorn? Anyway, the pink one had a mane and tail consisting of the colors blue, pink and yellow that came to an end with a weird curl. This one had a glass sculpture of a heart branded onto her side and wore a tiny tiara. She was beaming from ear to ear at the lizard, obviously overjoyed at the creation of a sculpture in the likenesses of the one on her flank.

Standing close to that one with a hoof around her neck, was a white pony with a mane and tail of two different shades of blue and a shield on his flank. Based on his bulkier build, I assumed that this one was a male and was in a relationship with the pink one, who I assumed to be female. That, or they were really good friends. He was looking very proud of the lizard, like a father looking proud of their son for scoring a touchdown in football.

In the center of the circle, was the large purple and green lizard thing holding a carved glass heart out to the three others. He seemed ready to burst, his chest was jutting out so much. If pride could kill literally, he would spontaneously combust on the spot.

I don't know what, but that glass heart just screamed out to me. I needed to touch that heart. I reached out with my crystal appendage, the sharpened digits seemed to radiate a faint purple glow as I drew nearer.

Just as I had the heart in my grasp, the four of them came to life.

"It's Savidicus!" The purple one screamed.

I immediately backed away in surprise. Had I known that these things would wake up, I'd have continued searching for a way out.

A heroic voice sounded off from behind me, "I'll stop him!"

Swirling around, I saw the white unicorn with a glowing blue sword hoisted above his head, ready to slash downwards. How he even got there was anyone's guess.

"Nonono wait!" I sputtered.

He didn't seem to care for my plea and sword slashed down towards my head. I closed my eyes and waited for the end, resigning myself to this fate.

One, two, three, four seconds passed and I was still thinking about how many seconds had passed.

"A-am I dead?"

AS MUCH AS I WISH YOU WERE, NO. YOUR NOT DEAD. NOW OPEN YOUR EYES YOU PATHETIC MONGREL.

I opened my eyes and saw that I was now in a snowy field with a large, glorious city behind me. Tall, slightly transparent spires gutted from the earth in an attempt to reach the heavens. Even from a distance, I could see it's magnificent light radiate safety and warmth, welcoming all travelers. Turning around, I was met by a far less pleasant sight, the smoke monster.

"Why!? Why are you doing this?! What have I ever done to you?" I cried, my mental state collapsing around me as I submitted myself to the idea that this creature wanted nothing more than to cause me misery.

I NEED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME.

My mental state stopped shattering and I regained some composure. This creature said it needed me. Not wanted me, needed me. I obviously had a bargaining chip now, but was certain that it would still try to 'persuade' me even if this was true. I needed to learn more about it to gain any advantage.

"Why would I do anything you want me to?"

BECAUSE IN EXCHANGE, I SHALL RELINQUISH OWNERSHIP OF YOU AND SEND YOU BACK TO YOUR OWN MUNDANE  WORLD.

Strike one. It was also learning about me. It knew I reacted negatively to pain, as demonstrated from it's earlier attempts to coerce me into obedience. Now, it was bargaining for it.

"What do you mean, my world? Where am I?"

EQUESTRIA, THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE TO BE PRECISE. MY EMPIRE. I USED TO RULE ON HIGH AS KING! BUT THE CRYSTAL PONIES AND THEY'RE BENEVOLENT  RULERS, THE PRINCESSES, BANISHED ME FROM MY LANDS AND CAST ME INTO SHADOW. WITH YOU ON MY SIDE, I CAN FINALLY TAKE BACK WHAT WAS RIGHTFULLY MINE.

Strike two, using the age old trick of sucking up to gain sympathy for its cause and throwing in a short sob story to garner more. Classic.

"Okay, suppose I did help you, what would I need to do?

CATCHING ON QUICKLY I SEE. I LIKE YOU, OBVIOUSLY INTELLIGENT. AS FOR WHAT TO DO, SIMPLY CAUSE GENERAL UNREST AMONGST THE POPULACE, MAKE THEM HATE THE PRINCESSES. OR AT LEAST GET THEM TO SWEAR FEALTY TO ME. ONCE ENOUGH OF THEM HARBOR HATE FOR THE CURRENT RULERS, I SHALL REGAIN MY PHYSICAL FORM...

Strike three. It revealed unto me it's greatest weakness, no form. I could simply agree to it, walk away and get help from one of these 'Princesses' it talked about. They would have to be pretty powerful in order to get rid of a living cloud of smoke that could simply replace lost limbs with crystals.

"And should I refuse?"

BEING STUCK HERE SEEMS PUNISHMENT ENOUGH... BUT KNOW THIS SLAVE, I WILL BREAK YOU SHOULD YOU DECLINE MY GENEROUS OFFER. ALSO, DON'T GET ANY IDEAS OF ASKING THE PRINCESSES FOR HELP, ONLY I CAN SEND YOU HOME. WELL, AT LEAST IN ONE PIECE...

I paled from underneath the gas mask, my seemingly foolproof plan had a man-sized hole in it. If I had any hope of getting home, I needed to give in to its demands.

Sighing, I asked, "How do you want me to do this?"

I LEAVE THAT TO YOU. PRAY YOU DON'T FAIL ME

With that, the smoke simply vanished from my sight and left me alone in the cold, white plain. I turned around and dejectedly started marching towards the city, planning my next move. I still had many unanswered questions such as how I was going to turn an entire city that looked magnificently prosperous against its rulers. Or what he meant by 'crystal ponies'. About what sort of challenges I might face. Or if I left the water running in my sink back home. Well, the only way to answer any of these questions was to head towards civilization and hope for the best.