Born of Rage: Night Terror
Terror Looms within the Dark of Night
The sky erupted into an unholy menagerie of sights and sounds; the cracking boom and blinding flash of a hundred thousand explosions filled the torrid night air as the heavens poured out their woes. To say that such a riotous cacophony had startled her would be nothing short of an unassailable understatement. With a terrified scream of utmost fear, Fluttershy leapt from her bed with a flurry of feathers and tangled sheets. Eyes wide and hackles on edge, her entire body shook in unadulterated fear at the ungodly ruckus that even now beat against her eardrums with such ruthlessness as to drown out her own voice as she exclaimed, “What’s going on!?”
Her thoughts were crushed beneath the horrendous bellow – like twisting metal and thunder rolled into one – which shook the windows of her quaint little cottage situated at the edge of the forest. Shivering in fear, she was momentarily blinded by a brilliant bolt of bright blue lightning which tore across the turbulent skies as it fell towards the earth. Snapping her eyelids shut at the painful stimuli, the timid Pegasus tried to collect her wits about her with a few calming breaths. The howling wind that buffeted her small home did little to help her in that regard – she had quickly broken out into a cold sweat as the sounds of the outside world conjured terrifying visions within her mind’s eye.
Taking a few feeble steps towards the door of her bedroom, she was suddenly assaulted by the overpowering smell of smoke; her eyes widening as she gasped, “Fire!” Bursting through the door, she immediately began the process of gathering up the many animals who dwelled within her abode – a pair of doves, a family of opossums, a pair of squirrels, a few raccoons and, of course, the rabbit whom she had all but adopted. Insuring that they were all secured within her saddlebag, she threw on a rain-tarp and headed out her front door. What met her on the other side struck her dumb.
There, in the distance, loomed an enormous thing. It was unlike anything she’d ever before seen, standing amidst the growing flames of… “Ponyville,” she exclaimed, “oh, God, no!” The town which she had come to think of as her home was now a ravenous sea of vermillion light and crackling embers. Even now, the mighty oak tree that so dominated the horizon was beginning to come under the inexorable assailment of the hungry fires of perdition. With a thunderous crack, a slew of explosions manifested from seemingly nowhere as they engulfed the ominous form of the saurian titan that was no doubt responsible for the destruction she was witness to.
Tears fell unbidden from her eyes as she took in the spectacle. The foreign soldiers who had arrived days before were now falling in droves. She watched on in horror as one unfortunate Cat ran screaming from a trench, covered in flames and shrieking with such primal fear and pain as to make her stomach churn. The poor soul eventually fell to the earth, writhing in paroxysms of anguish before finally going still – his screams replaced by the sizzling pop of burning flesh and melting fat. This scene was repeated a dozen times over as the creature unleashed a radiant beam of death from its maw towards another nearby trench. Fluttershy wretched – she couldn’t bare it.
She was broken from her stupor by the chattering racket of mechanical treads and billowing steam. As if by magic, a massive metal construct barreled past her and further into the woods; she had only enough time to see a number painted upon its side – ‘7’. It was enough to get her feet to move - she needed to get away from here! Collecting up her wards once more, the passive Pegasus began to run – pushing deeper into the woods and hopefully away from the monster which terrified her so greatly. Scarcely a few fear-stricken seconds passed before the surrounding trees seemed to shatter of their own volition, exploding amidst the midnight air and fragmenting into a hundred thousand tiny, deadly slivers.
Fluttershy screamed. Her cries of fear were instantly drowned out by the all-encompassing boom of the wayward shell that had so thoroughly demolished the treetops and timbers. A massive chunk of wooden shrapnel found itself lodged deeply within her shoulder, and it was all the poor girl could do not to pass out from the pain. As streaks of molten white flashed across her vision, the stricken Pegasus could scarcely comprehend the world around her. It wasn’t until she tripped over a fallen limb and stumbled into the mud that she realized something was awry – the weight upon her back had inexplicably lightened. With a growing sense of horror, the timid pony dared to look over her shoulder. She would quickly wish she had not.
The first thing she noticed was the obvious; a grotesque sliver of wood lodged into her shoulder, a steady trickle of crimson fluid running down her leg. With a hitched breath she quickly went on to observe that one of her passengers – a raccoon whom she had all but raised from birth – was overtly absent. Worse still, many of the other woodland animals she had sought to protect were now covered in seeping gashes; the worst being a pair of squirrels whose breathing had become visibly labored. With a growing panic, she quickly tried to find the missing raccoon. “Scrambles,” she hoarsely cried out, “Scrambles, where are you?” A brief flash of lightning momentarily startled her as it illuminated the night sky. With a quick yelp, Fluttershy had to control her instincts to run as she caught a glimpse of something amidst the forest floor.
Moving closer to investigate, the frightened pony began to unconsciously weep as she finally came to grips with what she was seeing. There, lying in a pool of its own blood, lay the raccoon, Scrambles; a massive splinter of pine piercing through its torso. It was obvious that the poor animal had died quickly, but it was the fact that, had Scrambles not been on her person, that pike of timber would have gone straight through her instead which truly crushed her heart. She wanted to break down then and there; to outright cry - she really did. But with another salvo of distant explosions already rising through the distant night air, she knew that she couldn’t afford to simply sit there and grieve. There were still other animals under her care, and she refused to let any of them suffer the same fate as Scrambles.
So, with gritted teeth, she took hold of the timbered stake piercing her body and, with a scream of adrenaline, yanked it from her shoulder – a steady seep of coagulating blood now trickling down her side. With a sigh of relief, Fluttershy slowly took to her feet and once more traveled deeper into the Everfree, away from the nightmare beast and the war that had seemingly blossomed forth from it. The agonized, hollow bellow of the beast once again tore through the ether, sending a shiver down her spine as she began to pick up speed. As her heart hammered within her breast, she silently prayed to God that she might make it through this night…
The mission had been one of seeming simplicity; establish a perimeter around the Feuerlanzen and make sure nothing could interfere with the upcoming launch sequence. Unfortunately for Waldjäger Kader-9[1], the situation had become anything but simple. It had started with the rain. While these elite Försters[2] were no stranger to adverse weather, the ferocity of this storm was something they had never seen before; not even the dense canopy of the trees overhead could alleviate the downpour as thick fat drops of water pushed their way through the tree tops and hit the ground like falling rocks! The noise was intense – an overwhelming staccato which drowned out the sounds of the distant battle which loomed far ahead of them.
Then the Timber Wolves showed up. They came like ghosts and struck like lightning; Hauptgefreiter Luchs was the first victim of these ravenous creatures – fortunately his death had been swift and relatively painless, especially when compared to the fate of Gefreiter Rüder, who had literally been torn limb from limb by a pack of the beasts. Several other men were badly mauled before a requisition for special ordinance was finally approved by Oberleutnant Shempo back at command[3]. Twelve minutes after their request finally came through, Kader-9 found itself bristling to the teeth with weapons and ammunition: eighteen SB 22’s[4], nine AP 46/v’s[5], six HM-2’s[6], four MK 19’s[7], and a Feuerwerfer-‘58(tgb)[8] of all things!
Yet even with such an impressive array of firepower, they were finding it difficult to deal with the ever increasing number of Timber Wolves. It wasn’t until Pionier[9] Frisch Tralfar suggested the idea of using semi-static razor-wire defenses that a viable system was worked out. With surprising speed, they’d managed to clear a small section of the forest, using the fallen timbers as makeshift barriers while they dug a concentric series of shallow trenches into the wet, loamy soil. During that time, the beasts had managed to take three more of their comrades in the midst of all the activity. By the time the great offensive outside Poniville was reaching its conclusion, the last of the barbed wire fencing had been lain out, and Waldjäger Kader-9 began the nerve wracking process of lying in wait.
They wouldn’t have to wait long. Over the pounding rain and screaming thunder, a shrill, spine-tingling howl pierced through the night air and set the hackles of many of the younger soldiers on edge. Peering through the muddy haze of the downpour, Hauptmann Binkie Stocher calmly called out, “Fix Bayonets – wait until you have a solid visual before you start wasting rounds.” Several of the greener men visibly blanched at the idea of fighting off such vicious animals with only a bayonet, but they understood that it was very likely that the razor-wire would only hold for so long. On the other side of the clearing, manning an MK 19, Überfallkommando[10] Roarie Dorfer took a long drag from his damp cigarette before turning to his feeder[11], Pipsel Schnellkatte, and remarking, “You’d better keep that ammo dry, Pip – I’d hate to get a stove-pipe in the middle of this shit-storm.”
Pip, for his part, was rather pale. He was also incredibly wet and cold. He’d only enlisted a few months ago, and to be in a combat situation for the first time was far from pleasant. Still, he morosely shook his head before hoarsely whispering back, “There’s water in my boots, and mud all the way up to my ass – how the hell am I supposed to keep anything dry?” His statement garnered a couple of laughs as several of the surrounding soldiers appreciated the irony of it all. All discussion ceased when one of the spotters in the western trench exclaimed, “Movement, 37 degrees to the South – multiple contacts.”
As one, the entire squad turned towards the southwest, their weapons primed and ready to fire. Just as quickly, though, another spotter cried out, “I’ve got movement to the East!” As many of the soldiers once again repositioned themselves to the East, a third spotter exclaimed in a panicked voice, “I-I’ve got several contacts coming in from the South!” Before anyone could even react, a fourth and final spotter bellowed, “Targets inbound from our North – they’re coming in fast!” The sudden, icy grip of fear quickly took hold within the hearts of many of the men, and a mad scramble was made to take up any viable position while there was still time. From his vantage at the center dugout, Hauptmann Stocher, having just laid out a half-dozen grenades within arm’s reach, slapped a drum-clip into his SB 22 before muttering, “Fuck.”…
There was no getting around it – she was lost. For the last thirty minutes or so, Fluttershy had been aimlessly fleeing ever further into the depths of the Everfree, and for the first time in her life, she was beginning to grow uneasy with it. The rain had finally let up, if only slightly, to the point where she could now see at least a hundred meters in front of her, if barely even that. However, the noise of distant combat seemed to reverberate through the woods, and from time to time she could clearly hear the bellicose roar of that horrifying monster, which only spurred her to go deeper in to the forest. But as she continued on, she couldn’t stave off the feeling that she was going in circles. Momentarily halting in order to take stock of the situation, the pink maned Pegasus un-holstered her saddlebag and delicately began to investigate the condition of her wards.
She had to hold back a moan of despair at what she beheld. The pair of squirrels had obviously passed away at some point during the night, and the other animals were visibly shaking in abject fear. Gingerly taking up the deceased rodents, Fluttershy lovingly laid them within the hollow of a nearby oak, saying a prayer in passing before turning immediately to her still living friends. With a soothing coo she whispered, “Shush, it’s all okay now – we’re okay; we’re going to be okay.” Some of the younger animals visibly relaxed at the calming, reassuring tone of her voice. However, many of the older creatures still remained on high alert, their eyes constantly searching their surroundings for danger.
Falling to her rump, the exhausted pony gave a slight shiver as the adrenaline began to fade away. She was soaked to the bone, and the wound upon her shoulder was beginning to burn; she would need to tend to it soon if she wanted to avoid getting an infection. Her introspections were instantly shattered at the striking sound of a snapping branch somewhere in the looming darkness. Now on edge, her heart beating with renewed vigor, she shakily jumped to her feet – her head snapping to and fro as she tried to identify the source of the noise. The startled shriek of one of her animals instantly caught her attention. With an uncharacteristic bout of bravery, Fluttershy leapt to action and placed herself between her wards and what she quickly identified as a Timber Wolf.
As she stood in defense of her animal friends, she slowly took notice of the sorry state the eldritch creature was in. Instead of the archetypically aggressive pose that most Timber Wolves made when confronted, this one kept low and remained at a distance, it’s from slightly obscured by the grove of dogwoods from which it had partially emerged. With ears fully forwards, Fluttershy took a tentative step towards the feral beast. To her surprise, it actually took a step backwards. That was when she noticed the blood. Amber in color, and with a consistency like tree-sap, she was appalled at the amount that was slowly oozing from the beast. With a pitiful whine, the Timber Wolf chose that moment to collapse upon its side.
Taking her chance, Fluttershy swiftly trotted over to the downed creature. As she approached, she could hear its labored breathing and the wet gurgle of what were undoubtedly its lungs as they slowly filled with fluids. A brief flash of lightning from overhead illuminated the scene enough for her to finally see the true extent of its condition; with a startled gasp, it took all of her willpower not to vomit at what she’d beheld. The Timber Wolf was riddled with all manner of wounds – the worst of them a series of jagged holes that perforated the beast’s torso. One of its back legs was completely gone – the charred stump of its limb was like nothing she had observed before. A horrid series of thin, deep gouges ran up and down its face, and one of its eyes was clearly missing.
But what truly churned her stomach was the crimson veil of still-fresh blood which seemingly caked the beast’s maw; its entire nose was covered in it – flecks of viscera were clearly visible upon its lips, and a slight dribble of the rich, red fluid even now oozed from its mouth. With a newfound sense of caution, the Pegasus jolted away from the wolf, her survival instincts kicking in even as the beast gave a final wheezing gasp before expiring. Taking a few minutes to simply stare at the now-deceased Timber Wolf, Fluttershy couldn’t help but feel slightly sad at its passing; even though it was a dangerous animal, she always mourned the loss of life. Even still, it was only momentary – the distant sounds of battle were growing in their intensity, and she needed to get as far away from it as possible.
As she once more gathered up her wards into the saddle-bag, Fluttershy took one last look at the corpse of the Timber Wolf before resuming her trek further in to the forest. She might have been lost, but at least she was relatively safe when compared to the alternative. Her wound was beginning to itch now – the burn only having intensified. She really needed to find some way of treating it soon. With a flick of her ear, she absentmindedly noticed that the rain had begun to pick up once more, though not to the degree it had been previously. Up ahead, a muffled cacophony of noisome ruckus once more brought her attention to the world around her; there was something going on further into the forest, and she was almost certain that she could hear shouting, though it could have been the wind. Curiosity piqued, she made for the source of the strange sounds…
The clearing had become nothing short of an abattoir, and it seemed that no amount of rainfall could wash away the blood that now soaked the muddy trenches and crater-pocked soil. All along the perimeter, the bullet-ridden corpses of at least a dozen massive Timber Wolves lay entangled within the razor-wired mesh; their otherworldly blood even now flowed freely, coalescing into luminous pools of vermillion. The landscape was now blackened – a veil of thick grey steam rising up from the scorched earth. Here and there were various orange and red smears – the final testament of those poor souls who’d been caught in the open when the mortars had come down. From his vantage at the top of the entrenchment works, Hauptmann Stocher put another wad of tobacco into his pipe before wondering aloud, “Anybody dead?”
The answers were immediate; from the western trench a soldier called out, “We’ve got six dead over here.” From the north came a voice which cried out, “M-my arm… I can’t find my arm!” That voice was immediately overpowered by a deeper baritone which exclaimed, “You’re not going to want it back, trust me,” before responding to the Hauptmann’s query by saying, “We’ve got maybe four, five dead over here, about a half dozen more wounded, Herr Hauptmann.” The reports were similar from the other trenches. As he contemplated the death toll, Stocher casually scratched his nose before asking, “How are we on mortar rounds?”
From his immediate left, a blood covered Ferret tensely answered, “Team two says they’re out of rounds... team one and three are dead.” Cocking a brow, Binkie turned to the Ferret and asked, “What about team four?” With a slight twitch, the poor man replied, “I-I think we’ve got a few rounds left, b-but one of the mortars is broken – I had to use it as a club a-at some point; I don’t remember when…” With a sigh, the Hauptmann began to scratch at his ear in thought. All thoughts and conversations ceased at the barking cough of a heavy machine gun as it opened up fully from the eastern trench. All attention quickly fell upon the perpetrator, as Überfallkommando Dorf took a massive drag from his cigarette before extending a claw and scratching another notch into the extensive tally across the rim of his helmet.
At his side, the pale, lifeless corpse of Pipsel Schnellkatte stared off into nothingness – his throat had been torn out, the blood crusted upon his body had turned into a thick matte of visceral brown. Roarie didn’t even seem to acknowledge the sight beside him as he huskily exclaimed, “I saw one moving out there – figured I’d put it out my misery.” In the distance, a fresh Timber Wolf corpse could be seen – it’s belly cut open by the razor wire and its innards streaming behind it a good ten meters. Its head was now nothing more than a smoking stump. With a shaky hand, Roarie leaned towards the body of Pip as he grabbed another box of ammunition from the poor boy’s lap. Slowly fumbling the feeder belt into the breech chamber, the Überfallkommando gently spoke, saying, “Thanks kid; you did real well.” The illusion was shattered soon after as his face scrunched up in an attempt to hold back the tears.
Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Hauptmann Stocher bellowed out, “Alright, listen up: there’s a good chance those things will be making another run at us, and with the way things are right now, I don’t like our odds.” Pointing at the nearest pile of bodies, he went on to say, “I want all of the fallen to be gathered up and moved out of the trenches,” as a wave of outcries and protests began to well up from the men he raised a hand and continued in a firmer voice, “we’re not just going to leave them there, I promise, but right now they’re in the way and we need them moved.” With no small amount of muttering and a few choice curses, those soldiers who were still able began to gather up the corpses of their fallen comrades.
For the first few minutes things were quiet, but as the rain began to come down once more with a vengeance, a commotion broke out in the form of Roarie Dorf grabbing a fellow soldier by the lapels of his trenchcoat before delivering a solid right hook into the poor fellow’s jaw as he all but screamed in a primal rage, “I said don’t touch him – you touch him again and I’ll gut you like a fucking trout!” But just as a few of the other soldiers were preparing to intervene, the Shorthair that the Überfallkommando had decked lifted his hand up in a placating manner as he softly spoke out, “Roarie, I know it’s difficult, but we need to move him – you heard what the Hauptmann said.” Lowering his head in defeat, the Burmese softly spoke, saying, “I told her I’d keep him safe… I told her that I’d keep her baby brother safe, and now look at him.”
As the trenches were gradually cleared of corpses, the decision was made to fill the outer most lines with the remaining barbed wire and whatever improvised explosives could be cooked up on short notice. The surviving MK 19’s were relocated to the central trench and a new trench was hastily dug into a circular configuration around that central dugout. The rest of the trenches were covered over with dead branches and mud before the surviving soldiers made their way towards the center. All of this in only seven minutes – such was their desperation to survive. As the Hauptmann surveyed the improvised bulwarks, one of the surviving spotters called out, “I’ve got a visual – South by Southeast; maybe twenty or more.”
Like a switch, the atmosphere seemed to thicken as the remnants of Waldjäger Kader-9 prepared to hold off another attack. Turning to the radio operator of the squad, Hauptmann Stocher asked, “How long until reinforcements arrive?” With a frown, the Badger manning the set responded, “They’re having some trouble making it through; the supply wagon got bogged down in the mud, and the storm is making it difficult for them to navigate – their best estimate is around forty-five minutes or more.” In a rare show of anger, the Hauptmann took off his helmet and fiercely tossed it into the mud as he shouted, “God damnit!” Running a paw down his face, the frustrated feline took a deep breath before turning back to the radioman and declaring, “Tell them that we will hold our position until relieved.” From all around them, an eerie choir of howls rose up from the darkened depths of the timberline…
She had almost been certain that the commotion had come from this direction, but as the minutes dragged on without any further incident, Fluttershy was beginning to question whether or not she had imaged the whole thing to begin with. A mighty clap of thunder chose that moment to break out overhead, and with it came a streak of jagged lighting. With a terrified yelp, it took all of her strength not to curl up into a ball and cry. She just wanted this nightmare to be over. A sliver of moonlight chose that moment to break through the clouds, just enough to bathe the treetops in its incandescent glow. It would have been beautiful were it not accompanied by the banal howling of a dozen or more Timber Wolves.
With a jolt running down her spine, Fluttershy made a snap decision. Once more taking the saddle-bag from her back, she located a nearby tree with a massive hollow at the base of its roots, whereupon she deposited her animal friends with a promise, saying, “You’ll be safe here for now – I promise that everything will be fine in the end.” Just as she finished speaking, a new noise welled up through the night air – the sound of shouting and the unmistakable report of explosives. That was the noise she had heard earlier, and if she was right, it meant that there were people nearby. With a look of determination running across her face, the yellow haired Pegasus made up her mind; she would seek out whoever it was that was making such a racket, if only in the hope that they might be able to help her.
With a new sense of purpose, the timid pony made a dash towards the direction the furor was coming from. In the back of her mind, a voice was all but screaming at her, telling her that what she was doing was reckless, and potentially life threatening. But another part of her was almost certain that the only way she was going to survive this was to make contact with whoever it was that she was looking for. The howling of the Timber Wolves had fallen away, replaced now by snarling growls and cackling barks. From time to time, she could make out a grinding staccato, one that struck her as mechanical in nature, and which would often be followed by the shrill yelping of a wounded animal.
Up ahead, she could make out the radiant glow of what could only be a fire! She was getting close! Stopping just short of the tree line, the gentle Pegasus’ sapphire eyes widened in horror at what she saw. It was a clearing, artificial in its design – covered in broken timbers and blackened craters. A ring of shallow pits were covered in metal wires and writhing with a host of torn and sundered Timber Wolves, set alight by some unknown means; their burning flesh the source of the warm glow that had drawn her there. At the center of it all stood a shallow hill covered to the brim with more shallow ditches. Within those earthen defenses there stood a whole host of foreign feline soldiers! Like a vision straight from hell, she stood witness to the violent, bloody conflict as it unfolded.
Like a scene straight out of legend, she watched as a Timber Wolf, it’s eyes glowing with hunger and desperation, braved the flame and fire as it dashed towards the final line of defenses before leaping into the milling mass of felines – it’s wicked jaws wrapping around the shoulder of an unfortunate victim, whose cries of anguish were almost primal in their nature. Like a swarm of hornets, those soldiers nearest to their ravaged comrade turned their ire upon the beast in their midst, the steely glint of their bayonets flashing red in the glinting firelight as they frantically stabbed and gouged at the beast in a vain attempt to make it release its prey. With a mighty heave, the Timber Wolf flung its victim out of the trench and into the waiting jaws of its pack mates.
With a scream of absolute horror, she saw the poor cat be torn to shreds by the ravenous pack, only to hear one of the foreigners shout something in his strange language before tossing a metal cylinder at the blood-thirsty brood. She had to close her eyes at the ensuing explosion that engulfed them. By the time she opened her eyes once more, she had to gasp at what she saw next; where once there had been a poor cat being sundered by a trio of wolves was now nothing more than a scorched crater filled with visceral goblets of steaming flesh. Not even skipping a beat, the soldier who had thrown the explosive then drew a knife and took a full bodied lunge towards the interloping Wolf that was still within their trench!
With a primordial bout of caterwauling and vitriolic hissing, the assailing cat turned into a flurry of teeth and claws as he used everything he had to fight against the much larger canine. With his bare claws he managed to gouge out the beast’s eyes, much to its agonizing discomfort. And as the suddenly blinded monstrosity tried to make a retreat, its assailant’s knife finally found purchase within the small of its back. With a yelp of misery, the Timber Wolf finally managed to buck off the savage feline, but just as it finally managed to run blindly out of reach, another soldier seemingly materialized out of the smoke filled rain and mud, wielding an ungainly contraption that, much to Fluttershy’s surprise, erupted forth into a gout of liquid flame that quickly immolated the fleeing beast.
She watched in fascination as, from the other side of the earthen ditch, a screaming feline operated a device that continually spat a stream of death at anything in its path; where there had seconds before been a group of charging Timber Wolves, there were now a half-dozen decimated cadavers – streams of steaming eldritch blood still pulsing as their hearts continued to beat well after their deaths. As the soldier continued to fire at anything that moved, the barrel of his weapon began to glow a molten red, casting a viscous cloud of steam as the heavy rain made contact with it. With a pronounced ping, the weapon suddenly ceased to fire; its operator bellowing out a string of words she couldn’t understand before pushing it aside and drawing a pistol from his holster.
Amidst the commotion, she observed another Timber Wolf launch itself into the mass of soldiers, followed closely by another of its brethren; it’s charred face a mangled parody of its former self. A wail of absolute pain erupted from the mass of conflict as one of the beasts managed to clamp its horrid jaws around the leg of a ferret, snapping the poor man’s leg clean in two! Like before, those soldiers close enough to help the wounded soldier fell upon the beast with whatever they had on hand; one man even went so far as to use an axe against the monstrous creature! Within seconds, they managed to successfully bring this wolf down, extracting the wounded Ferret from its jaws. However instead of helping the poor man, one of them simply placed a shovel, its edges sharpened for combat, into his hands before shouting something at him.
Meanwhile, the other Timber Wolf that had made its way to the center of the group wasn’t having nearly as much luck; as it happened, one of the soldiers – a massive reptile (a Gila Monster if she remembered correctly) – had managed to wrestle the creature into a headlock before giving a jerking twist, breaking the beast’s neck with an audible snap! Before she could process anything further, her attention was drawn once more to the man wielding the flamethrower. In the span of a handful of seconds he had gone from scouring the fleeing Timber Wolf to being surrounded by a quartet of the slavering beasts as they circled and lunged at him from all angles!
When one of them finally managed to make purchase with their jaws, the startled soldier activated his weapon before being dragged down to his doom. To Fluttershy’s horror, though, the stream of molten flame that spilled forth from his weapon somehow managed to fall upon those who he had been fighting with – already a half-dozen flailing bodies bolted down the hill, accompanied by agonized screams of pain as their flesh burnt! In that single moment, it seemed that the fight had been lost; from all directions, dozens of Timber Wolves emerged as one to make a final push towards their next meal. From atop an improvised barricade, one of the cats opened fire with a repeating rifle as he bellowed out, “Ich sterbe im kämpfen!”
As one, the remaining handful of soldiers repeated those words as they stood shoulder to shoulder – back to back – and opened fire towards the closing wall of Timber Wolves. But even as the jaws of death made to snap them all up, hope arrived in the form of a metal monstrosity – a clattering, unwieldly vehicle that, to her, resembled a brick on wheels – which came crashing through the trees before lining up and letting loose a stream of caustic white fluid that encompassed a massive swath of the charging wolves, rendering them into naught but boiling chunks of bubbling flesh! With a cheer, the survivors made a mad dash towards their salvation, whooping and hollering in absolute joy even as they formed up behind the machine and followed it forwards as it laid waste to its victims!...
The timely arrival of the Bombardierkäfer[12] had been nothing short of a miracle! From his position behind the magnificent vehicle, Hauptmann Stocher once more found himself involuntarily laughing with outright delight; such was the magnitude of their salvation. To his left, a battered and bruised (but ultimately alive) Roarie Dorfer wildly fired from around the cover the vehicle offered, screaming obscenities with righteous fury as the chem-wagon continued to push ahead, driving the Timber Wolves before it. One of the other survivors, Feldwebel Argus Slinkison (a Ferret who had just minutes before lost his leg to one of the monstrous beasts), having been quickly loaded into the flatbed of the vehicle, openly wept as he cried out, “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” As if to punctuate the statement, the Käfer let loose another vitriolic spume of boiling chemicals, the deadly cocktail quickly melting through a trio of fleeing Timber Wolves.
At the sight of the hated beasts being reduced to sludge, the handful of haggard soldiers vigorously cheered – a renewed sense of vitality flowing through them as the elation of being alive overtook them. Taking up the rear of the group, the towering, scaly form of Unterleutnant Vad Gyar’osht called out in a baritone voice, “Herr Hauptmann, command says we need to secure the perimeter before further reinforcements can arrive – they don’t want to take a chance on being ambushed in transit.” With a toothy smile and no small amount of exhilaration, Hauptmann Stocher gave a nod as he bellowed, “Alright then, new orders; spread out and kill anything that moves!” Like men possessed, the six or seven able-bodied soldiers who were left swiftly spread out in every direction, their blood boiling in anticipation of exacting a modicum of revenge for their fallen comrades!
The next few minutes were spent in relative silence; from time to time, the cracking snap of a rifle would break through the night – the result of one soldier or another delivering a coup-de-grace upon ‘anything that moved’. From his position upon the Bombardierkäfer, Feldwebel Slinkison trained a pair of fernglas[13] upon the tree line. From time to time, he would relay the position of a straggling wolf or two, and it was to his great satisfaction that he bore witness to their swift demise. As he continued to survey the field, he was quickly drawn towards movement to the northeast; the pronounced rustling of a set of low lying pine branches, and the tale-tell shimmer of a large pair of eyes reflecting the firelight as they peered through the brush. Quickly extending his arm, the Ferret shouted out, “I’ve got one to the northeast – by the scrub-pines, about twelve degrees left!”…
From her hidden vantage point, Fluttershy had watched in amazement and no small amount of fright as the character of the surviving soldiers had gone from joyous survivors to vengeful killers in so quick a fashion. Like stalking predators, they began to fan out in all directions, prodding anything and everything that even resembled a Timber Wolf. She had physically jumped with a start when the first shot had gone off; one of the soldiers – a ruffled, blood-smeared Burmese, had come across one of the beasts as it languished in the throes of a slow death. He had promptly emptied an entire clip into the poor creature’s body, all the while screaming at the now deceased predator in his foreign tongue before finally giving the corpse a vicious kick for good measure.
This scene continued to play out in various iterations for the next four or five minutes, and it was all she could do to stop herself from crying. After all, she could understand defending one’s self from an attacking predator; but to actively hunt them down and kill them for such a notion as revenge was tantamount to murder for her. With a stomach churning mix of fear and disgust, she bore witness to one of the soldiers – the Gila Monster she’d seen earlier – as he literally began to feast on a fallen Timber Wolf whilst it was still alive; his massive jaws tearing long, bloody strips of flesh from the poor beast as it howled in agony[14]. She was quickly coming to the conclusion that it might actually be safer for her to avoid them. But as she began to back away from her hiding place, her attention was immediately drawn to the vehicle at the clearing’s center.
The alto voice of the Ferret who’d lost his leg had suddenly cried out, “Ich habe eine im Nordosten – linken über zwölf Grad, durch die Scrub-Pinien!” It wasn’t the words that drew her attention (indeed, she had no idea what they even meant), nor was it the tone of voice in which they were said. Instead, what struck her like a thunderbolt was the fact that he was pointing towards where she now stood! Before she even had time to process what was happening, the soldier nearest to where his compatriot was pointing casually shouted back, “Ich habe es.” Before drawing his rifle and aiming straight towards her! The last thing she saw and heard was the weapon going off before oblivion overtook her, and she knew no more…
From where he stood, weapon still raised, Stabsgefreiter Löwei Sachs tensely stared at where he’d seen the barest glimpse of his target. He was certain that whatever it had been was now dead, but it never hurt to make certain. So with that in mind, he called back to Feldwebel Slinkison, asking, “Do you see any movement?” The Ferret was quick to respond, saying, “Negative; I think you got it.” Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding the young Wirehair shouldered his weapon before making his way towards the stand of scrub-pines that stood some twenty meters away. As he reached out a hand to pull aside one of the needle-laden branches, the sharp, commanding voice of Hauptmann Stocher cut through the air, exclaiming, “Alright, we’re clear – everyone pull back to the Käfer; reinforcements will be here any minute, and we need to start gathering up our dead!”
Letting his hand drop before turning away from the pines, the Stabsgefreiter was quick to obey his orders. Sure, he would have liked to have seen for himself that he’d brought the target down, but in the grand scheme of it all that was not as important as insuring that his fallen comrades would receive a proper burial back home. So, as the first few reinforcements began to trickle their way into the clearing, the surviving members of Waldjäger Kader-9 began the long and difficult process of counting their losses and cleaning up the clearing – they would insure that no evidence of this bloody conflict would remain…
[1] Literally translating to ‘Forest Hunter Squad 9’, Waldjäger Kader-9 was one of three elite Voroshian Ranger units deployed in ‘Operation Feuerschein’. Like all standard Kaders, Squad 9 is composed of sixty-eight specialists, trained to handle the more exotic and often more dangerous weapons found in the armories of the Katzereich. Trained in close combat and taught a regimented set of survival skills, the Waldjäger divisions are often used for covert operations and advanced scouting missions in some of the more dangerous environments found throughout the world.
[2] Literally translates to ‘Rangers’, this is a short hand way of referring to the Waldjäger’s.
[3] Refer to the chapter “Blackest Day” of Born of Rage for further information.
A showcasing of the weapons described further below, as well as a few that were not mentioned.
[4] Developed by the weapons firm Schlacke und Söhne (S&S), The Sturmbüchse 22 Assault Rifle is the standard firearm of the Imperial Cat Army's Sturmabteilungen divisions. It's compact design and ease of manufacturing has, in recent decades, seen its dissemination into other branches, particularly the Sturmwagen-abteilung-stab and Fallschirmjägerabteilungen divisions. Utilizing a shortened version of the standard 'Spitzer' 8mm cartridge, the SB 22 has a phenomenal firing-rate of 800 rpm. With multiple fire-mode selection and the option of utilizing a 72 round ‘Sturm-Magazin’ in lieu of the standard 18 round magazines, the gun's versatility has made it a favorite amongst the troops. Along with the standard Iron sights, the SB 22 comes equipped with an adjustable field-sight for long range shots, with the option of utilizing the newly made TFm-6 Teleskopentfernungsmesser allowing for its use in reconnaissance work and sharpshooting. The Model 9 Kampf-Messer comes standard, and can be fastened to the gun via a specially designed bayonet mount. Due to its versatility, a number of field modifications are known to exist, filling a number of battlefield roles. These include a breach expander to allow for the Standard 'Spitzer' 8mm cartridge; allows for accuracy over distances of 800 meters, a folding wire stock in place of the standard stock; allows for increased portability, popular with Fallschirmjäger divisions and tank crews (FB 22), a modified feeder to allow for the use of belt-fed ammunition as well as a folding bipod assembly for use in stabilizing the gun during deployment thus allowing the SB 22 to be utilized as a light machine-gun (SB(m) 22), a shortened barrel developed as a carbine variant for use by Sonderkommandotruppen units (SK 22 Kurz), and, finally, a barrel extender kit to allow for sharpshooting (SB(h) 22 Lang). An image of the SB 22 can be found at the bottom of the chapter "None Can Stay" of Born of Rage.
[5] A relatively recent design, the AP 46 series was developed as a means of providing a marked increase of firepower at a time when most Voroshian soldiers were equipped with single action rifles. The Autopistole 46/verkürzt (Machine Pistol 46/ Shortened) is a specialized iteration which sees the standard stock removed and the barrel shortened to allow for better maneuverability within enclosed spaces and narrow trenches. It differs such weapons as the SB 22 and the MK 19 in that it chambers the 9.72mm Parabellum Pistole-round, has no adjustable rate of fire, and is only capable of firing 330 rounds per minute. Due to the nature of the 9.72mm round, the effective range of the weapon is only a mere 200 meters; while this seems rather ineffective, it must be taken into consideration that such distances are more than adequate when in the context of the trench warfare and close-ranged assault that so characterized the Hügelland Campaign.
[6] Towards the end of the Hügelland Campaign, it had become painfully apparent that contemporary military tactics were inadequate to deal with the realities of total war. A prime example being the M-09(s) (Scwhere Morsier 09) – the standard heavy mortar used throughout much of the war with the Boars. While in prior decades the 09 had been a pivotal weapon in dealing with the likes of the Camel Raiders of the first Rail War and the Diamond Dog Incursion, it was shockingly rendered ineffectual when used against the earthen forts and hard-point defenses that were strewn throughout the Boar Kingdom. Likewise, the M-09(s)’s great weight and massive size made transporting them across the hilly terrain a cumbersome logistical nightmare. Finally, when the Boars began to deploy their notorious ‘Half-Mortars’ in increasing numbers, the need for a mortar system that could be carried by a single man had become paramount. While the final years of the Hügelland Campaign bore witness to a vast array of improvised designs, it would only be after the war that a purpose-built design would be realized in the form of the Hand Morsier 1 (HM-1), a simple yet effective device that allowed for a soldier to project both standard hand grenades as well as specialized shells designed to contend with light fortifications and massed infantry at fifteen times the distance he would achieve by throwing it. However, when it became apparent that the HM-1 was far too small to deal with hard-point emplacements, the HM-2 was created to address the issue. Where the HM-1 was nothing more than a thirty-seven millimeter metal cylinder with a hand grip, the Hand Morsier 2 was a seventy-five millimeter reinforced tube with a square metal baseplate and a folding bipod. And while the HM-2 required a crew of two to move, it has been proven an excellent design, having made major contributions during the Third Rail War. Both the HM-1 and HM-2 are often used in coordination with one another on the battlefield, to devastating effect.
[7] The Kratzeisen Machinenkanonen 19 (MK 19), colloquially called the 'Grollengewehr' for the distinctive sound it emits when firing, is a general purpose water cooled machine-gun capable of firing the 8mm Spitzer round at roughly 950 rounds per minute. Its weight and bulk have relegated it to the role of a fixed emplacement gun, but more prominently as a vehicle mounted machine-gun where it excels at providing support against enemy infantry. The gun's distinctive Pepper-pot muzzle break (designed to create a spread effect of 1x50 meters) has lent another name to this gun - the Lead Shaker. The 5mm thick guard-plate is composed of a wolfram-chrome mixture which provides protection against the standard 8mm round all the way up to the heavy 12.5mm round. At the conclusion of the Hügelland Campaign, the need for a man-portable variation of the machine cannon had become strikingly apparent. As such, a variant known as the Machinenkanonen leichter (MK 19/L) was quickly put into production. To reduce the weight of the gun, the water-cooled system has been replaced with an oil-based system which can cool the cannon quickly with less liquid. To allow for easier mobility, the guard plate has been removed, and a grip bar has been welded along its top. Finally, the complicated tripod cradle has been completely removed, and replaced with a gimballed socket that can be attached to a separate pole-mount that must be hammered into place. Recently, work has begun on a new generation of Machinenenkanonen, and should things go accordingly, the MK 19 may well be retired within the next seven years. An image of a standard MK 19 can be found at the bottom of the chapter "None Can Stay" of Born of Rage.
[8] When the Katzereich first stepped onto the world stage during the Diamond Dog Incursion, they famously made heavy use of a terrifying assortment of chemical based weaponry, a first in the history of warfare, and the spark that lit an ensuing arms race across the entire world. At the forefront of these terrifying new weapons was the Feuerwerfer-‘21 (Fire Thrower, year model 21), a devastating flame projector that was mounted upon specialized light armored vehicles. The combination of so potent a weapon and the speed and maneuverability of the machine were such that entire Diamond Dog warbands would often surrender upon sighting the weapon. However, for all of its destructive power, the Feuerwerfer-’21 had some major drawbacks, the most prominent being that it could only go so far as the vehicle which carried it, and when utilized upon narrow or uneven terrain, it could easily be ambushed and overcome. Furthermore, the delivery system had a nasty habit of overheating, which often resulted in catastrophic failure – a scenario that almost always insured the demise of its crew. In the resultant years that followed, the weapon would go on to evolve into nearly a dozen different designs; every newer iteration becoming smaller and more efficient (though often no less safe to use). However, it was only in the 58th year of the Katzereich’s founding that a truly portable flamethrower came to be in the form of the Feuerwerfer-‘58(tgb). A compact, if somewhat heavy, design, the ’58 Tragbar(portable) was developed at a time when tensions were mounting between the Katzeriech and the Kingdom of Equestria, its design was intended for use against the many stone-built krepost’s and forts that were at the time being built upon Equestria’s western border. Ironically, it would instead be used in the Hugelland Campaign, where it proved surprisingly effective against the earthen bulwarks and trenches that so characterized that conflict. Furthermore, because of the mountainous terrain of the region, the Feuerwerfer-‘58(tgb) was often the only weapon capable of dealing with Boar fortifications that was ever on hand. Due to these factors, by the end of the conflict there was a massive surplus of the ’58 Tragbar’s, a large portion of which were given to the Badger Kingdom of Meles, as well as to the Pangolins of Pangolia. Nowadays, the Feuerwerfer-‘58(tgb) is being phased out in favor of the less volatile ‘Chemischewerferen’ systems.
[9] Literally translated to ‘Pioneer’, the Pionieren are a specialist class of frontline combat engineers. Equipped with the necessary tools to install static defenses, and trained to utilize improvised solutions to both logistical and mechanical problems. At one time there were a standard of all military divisions, but with the development of new, more specialized ranks, such as the Schlosser, they’ve become increasingly relegated to covert divisions and reconnaissance units.
[10] The rank of Überfallkommando isn’t so much a rank as it is a designation for a specialized reconnaissance unit. The Überfallkommando is the designated Heavy Weapons specialist of the many Ranger units in the military. They are divided into two classes – Schoßer (Shooter) and the Lader (Loader/Feeder).
[11] Officially referred to as a Lader (loader), the Feeder is the second class of Überfallkommando – responsible for maintaining a steady supply of ammunition for the Schoßer to fire. Because they are trained to rely upon one another above all else, and are encouraged to spend any free time together to encourage cooperation, many Überfallkommando teams develop an extremely close bond, and it is not uncommon that, should one fall in combat, the other will often languish into depression, and many times commit suicide out of a combination of grief and guilt.
[12] Designed by the legendary manufacturing firm of Krötenhaus Maschinenbau Aktiengesellschaft (KröteMAG), the Krötenhaus Sd.Mfz 197 (Sondermilitärischefahrzeug 197) ‘Bombardierkäfer’ (Bombardier Beetle) was only recently approved for mass-production, and as such is not a common sight amongst the armed forces of the Katzereich. Utilizing an advanced 8-rad wheel system and five-gear transmission for both forward and reverse, and armed with a pair of technologically complex, highly engineered KTD CPk (E).219 chemical projector cannons, the Bombardierkäfer was designed with the concept of functionality over aesthetics in mind. It’s boxlike hull and low-slung profile, while not the most appealing design, the Sd.Mfz 197 is both versatile and durable, with a great deal of emphasis applied to the safety of the crew, especially when one takes into the count the fact that it carries over 500 liters of hydroquinone and hydrogen peroxide. While both liquid compounds are inert and harmless (even when combined), when the two compounds are exposed to a pair of enzyme solutions prior to being mixed (catalase and peroxidase, respectively) the resultant cocktail becomes a very exothermic stream of caustic liquid as it exits the projector nozzle; the released energy of the explosive reaction raises the temperature of the mixture to near 620 °C, vaporizing about a fifth of it! The boiling, foul-smelling liquid partially becomes a gas by flash evaporation and is expelled explosively through a specially designed outlet valve that lines the muzzle break of the projector, resulting in a loud popping sound. Before the two catalyzed solutions come into contact with one another, they are run through a highly specialized and incredibly proprietary compressor, pressurizing the two liquids to a terminal velocity of 125 kilometers per hour. The incredibly secretive design of the nozzle, unknown to all but KröteMAG design bureau, has been engineered to actually mix the two volatile chemicals directly only upon leaving the projector’s rim – an amazing feat meant to prevent the delivery system from melting from the extreme heat of the final product. These two design feature insure a highly concentrated and extremely far reaching stream of p-benzoquinones, capable of breaking down protein chains almost instantaneously, which results in the catastrophic breakdown of cellular tissues. What this basically means is that those who are struck by the boiling stream actually start to melt! However, there is one major drawback to this design, in the form of the flash vapors, which are comprised of the by-product, ‘1,4-Benzoquinone’, a virulent irritant that, in such large amounts, can result in permanent blindness and asphyxiation. Fortunately, this gaseous compound can be rendered harmless when exposed to the compound of Dihydrogen Oxide, aka Water. As for the vehicle itself, it is operated by a crew of three; a driver, a radio operator, and the commander, who also takes on the role of gunner. Uncommon for Voroshian armored vehicles, the Bombardierkäfer is actually driven on a configuration of eight reinforced rubber tires – a design conserves weight and allows the machine to operate on terrain that more conventionally tracked vehicles cannot, including snow, mud, and potentially the broken, uneven terrain of an artillery blasted battlefield. Finally, the Bombardierkäfer has a shallow flatbed upon which extra supplies can be brought to the front, and on which wounded soldiers can be ferried back to receive medical attention. The design has thus far managed to impress several key members of the Imperial government, and work has begun on developing a whole line of new vehicles based upon the Sd.Mfz 197’s chassis.
[13] Literally translated to ‘Field Glasses’, these are standard issue binoculars, equipped to most infantry division, though their complex design means that only a few can be had per squad, often the officers or specialized reconnaissance perosnel. The less optically powerful ‘Dienstglas’ are instead given to the majority of soldier on the field.
[14] While many consider it a holdover of the Gila Monster’s Savage ancestors, the practice of devouring the flesh of a fallen enemy is still practiced prominently throughout their culture. Due to their notoriously undiscerning pallet as well as their legendarily voracious appetite, this act is often misconstrued as an expression of a Gila Monster’s uncontrollable nature at work. In reality, the act of eating the flesh of one’s enemy is actually considered a means of obtaining the strength and agility of that enemy. What’s more, to devour the flesh of an enemy while he is still alive holds a religious aspect in some portions of their culture. Furthermore, a Gila Monster will only ever eat the flesh of a foe that that they have personally brought low, and to do otherwise is considered to be one of the ultimate taboos, punishable by death. Due to the obvious demoralizing effect such a display would have on an enemy who didn’t understand this point of fact, Voroshian Military policy has always been to promote this behavior and this has done much to integrate the Gila Monsters fully into Reich. It should also be noted that, next to Cats, Gila Monsters make up the next largest percentage of soldiers to be found in the Reichsheer.(Katzenpfote Technisches Designbüro’s Chemische Projektorkanone Entwurk.219) Founded the young industrialist Benzie Katzenpfote, KTD is a relative upstart in the Voroshian industrial circle. However, they’ve become the leading chemical weapons design firm in the Reich, and the CPk (E).219 (Otherwise known as Design 219) is their latest, and perhaps greatest, design. What makes Design 219 so unique is that it was purposefully created to be integreated with KröteMAG’s Krötenhaus Sd.Mfz 197, the first time such a design process has ever been implemented. Due to the unpresidented success, there are already talks of a potential merger between these two industrial juggernauts.
Author's Note
This is a supplemental piece for my story, "Born of Rage", which takes place between the chapters "Roaring Storm Clouds" and "Blackest Day".
A point of note; the footnotes at the bottom of this chapter (and indeed many of the chapters in the progenitor story "Born of Rage") are both an interesting source of background information on many aspects of the BoR world, as well as a labor of love. Please, take the time to read them - that's all I ask.
