Fallout: Equestria - No Mercy

by BloodyBubblegum

Rating: mature
Tags: Crossover, Dark, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Adventure, Sex
Length: 11302

Hope is happy living with her father. But one day, she wakes up to find him hurt.

Hope is a filly that wakes up to find her father dead. Her mind breaks and she goes through a journey that changes her forever.

Disclaimer: Contains rape, murder and unwanted feels.

Published 2015-12-26 05:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-26 21:43:17 UTC

Chapter One: Not Tomorrow

Author's Note

Happy birthday.

Chapter One: Not Tomorrow

I remember when me and daddy used to live in the same house. The same town with the same people. Griffons. Zebras. Deer. Ponies. We were all in our own little world.

I wasn't the best daughter. Sometimes I was bad to daddy. Sometimes I made messes just because. Or asked him to cook me something and refused to eat it. I always found a way to take advantage of his good nature. Gaslighting. Guilt-tripping. Sometimes, I even brought back small animals and kept them as pets.

I remember that day clear as ever.

Daddy was lazing about on his velvet couch and I was in his lap, blabbing on about the newest graphic novel I'd discovered.

"Daddy, what's it mean when your 'drill pierces the heavens'?"

"That means you have a lot of willpower. Now, what's wrong sweetie. You spent all that time talking about Equine Lagoon but nothing about your birthday. That's not something fillies do."

I tilted my head in curiosity. What else would I have said. My hooves found daddy's chest and circled about that wall of fluffy white, unsure of what to say, what to do. I was just a child.

"Well, daddy I just want a knife."

His eyes went wide. He tried to hide it by forcing a cough and covering his muzzle. But I'd seen it happen millions of times before. My daddy stopped trying to hide it and held me against his chest, thick with smoke and old world blues. When I looked up, he met my eyes.

They were so tired. Milky, articulated with stars and alcohol clouds somewhere deep in the world. Beyond the sky, that's where my daddy's eyes led. They were cloudy blue. And sometimes, I saw them gloss over with thin layers of water, dim with cyan light.

"Daddy...?" I whispered, whining as I nuzzled his neck.

"It's okay, honey. It is. I'll get you a knife, I promise. I'll make sure it's the sharpest I can find."

Daddy glanced down at a piece of paper on our coffee table. It said something about buffout and an order for cryogenic preservatives. He started hacking and wheezing, perspirating out of his coat. I panicked and clung against him, wishing he'd stop. That was all I knew. He'd always kissed my cuts and scrapes away before bandaging them.

I thought it'd helped him when he turned his head and took an injection of med-x. Whenever he kissed my scrapes away, I felt the pain fade. When he took that needle, I thought he'd recover good as new. Daddy murmured to move off his lap, because he had to talk to Uncle Tesla.

Uncle Tesla Coil lived just next door. I glanced up with stars in my eyes and held his foreleg. Uncertain. And confused.

"Daddy, what's wrong...?"

"Daddy has to get some m-medicine, sweetie. I have to get some medicine so it's not so hard to move."

"Okay..." I whimpered, letting him go.

I was tired. I went to sleep without saying goodbye, or telling him how much he meant to me. That was one of the other thousand times I stayed ignorant. Daddy never told me how to appreciate what I had. He tried. But somedays, I think he had too much faith in me.

The next day, I woke up to the sound of tires slamming into the wall. That was daddy. That was him practicing his hindleg kicks. He was angry. Or frustrated. I really couldn't tell. I kicked myself up by the hindlegs and rolled out of bed. Combat roll. Because daddy always said 'a moving soldier was a good soldier.'

I stretched canine and stayed fixed in boredom. Daddy was probably gonna drill me on twitch reflex training and general acrobatics. Before I could do anything else, I went to pick my outfit for the day.

"Naked." I decided, leaving the wardrobe full of tutu dresses and striped sweaters.

I only needed that locket my daddy gave me. I reviewed the necklace as I looked at my reflection. Silver lace. Silver case. Red heart on one side, blue heart on the other. He told me to never take it off. So, naturally, I didn't. The one thing I did do, though, was wish I had a collar like him. I wanted something protective around my neck. It just felt wrong without it.

I glanced over at the filly staring back at me.

Her eyes were a luminous dim pink. The hue of her pupils warmed her snowy mane pigments. It matched the rest of her white coat, especially the rosy cheeks. I smiled looking back at her.

"It's me, Hope."

I couldn't wait for later today. I'd turn ten. And then, I could finally start going on trips with daddy. He'd take me to the big girl shooting range and the barracks he always worked at. Then Uncle Tesla and Auntie Bruise wouldn't need to babysit anymore. The stars in my eyes came to bloom and I smiled wide, seeing daddy come inside. I didn't know why, but I was so happy to see him.

I was so happy to see him.

"Daddy?" I asked, earning a quick 'yes sweetie?'

"I love you."

Something in my lips curled downward.

"Daddy...? What's wrong?"

He embraced me, jittering. His forelegs were tighter than usual. And for some reason, he was glowing with some strange cyan energy. I only knew that no matter what changed, he was still my daddy. I did my best to wrap my arms around his dense chest. He squeezed the air out of me.

"Daddy-!" I objected, until I heard him start to sob.

"I l-o-ove you too... I love you too, sweetheart. I do- I-I really do."

I never understood why daddy cried that night. I still don't. He cried till all his tears ran cold and froze against his cheeks. And when his tears froze up, they melted away seconds later. Before I could fall asleep on him, Uncle Tesla came at the door.

"Glass." He said.

"We need to talk. It's about the taint mutation. I know what the final stages do."

I stayed inside, playing with my knife-shaped present, admiring the big red ribbon.

When daddy came back, he brought my favorite: chocolate bars and cinnamon butterscotch pies. We ate in the living room listening to Silver Storm and Swordmare radioplays. The night was old in its age. And the more we enjoyed each other's company, the quicker time passed. I fell asleep in his lap that night, listening to my daddy's lullaby. Sweet serenity reached me on bass baritone melodies and false cadences.

When I closed my eyes, I fought to stay awake, to hear him sing.

We were so happy to be there, asleep in our own little world.

Chapter Two: [Memory]

I woke to the sound of gunshots. Then, random objects crashing violently against the house. I leapt out of bed and took off to find him. To find daddy. I realized that, in my sleep, a raid must've happened and we were caught in the middle. The living room was a mess of disjointed furniture, broken electronics and spent casings. I followed where my intuition pointed, feeling agony in my heart.

I saw visions of him being torn to pieces. Dead on the floor. Bleeding out. Anything. I couldn't block them out and the fear shook me deep down. I stumbled onto a trail of blood, cooling liquid all over the floorboards. I tried not to cry. A wave of warm, rushing water fell down my cheeks and I watched him crawl over, crippled, broken down and telling me he was okay.

"Sweetie... come here... give papa a hug."

I couldn't stop shaking. What else could I do but cling to him and tell him I was sorry. I was so stupid. I wished for a knife when I could've wished for a happy life.

"Daddy... daddy, please..."

"No, no no sweetie daddy- daddy's okay- s-see?"

He gave me a smile, lips cut from ear to ear. And I sobbed against him, whimpering, curling into a ball against his red-soaked coat. I couldn't see anything. My eyes were too blurry. Even when he wiped my eyes dry, I could only see him suffering... his bones jutting out at weird angles, and his smile, the only thing I had left of him.

"Daddy... I'm sorry- I'm so stupid- I'm sorry-!"

He held me close and rest his chin on my scalp. And then, he kissed my forehead all better, wrapping his forelegs over my shoulders.

"Daddy might not make it, sweetie. But you will. I know you can... Don't lose hope."

I felt my heart stop as he said his last words, thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and old irish whiskey.

"I love you. Be good, okay...?"

Closed eyes. Stopped moving.

Beside him was my birthday present. That knife. I unwrapped the stained gift paper and found an old, sacrifical knife. Triangular blade. Dull metal. I saw myself in its reflection, blurred away by the vague cloudiness of the alloy. I watched my eyes, glowing red with something I'd never felt till daddy passed away.

Uncle Tesla shambled in through the splintered front door. He was holding a plasma caster when I felt him enter the room. Same smell. Same air. Cheap cologne and essence of lilac from generic soap. He always stepped quietly. That's why you could hear him from a mile away.

"Who's there...?!" He barked, his glasses smashed in and the sockets, bloody.

I turned around, blood on my chest, muzzle and neck. And don't forget the hooves.

"It's me, Hope."

I took Daddy's Collar and put it on myself. While Uncle Tesla asked me if I was hurt, I stayed quiet and fixed the locket piece on my collar ring. It felt nice. Cold. Just like everything else. When he started pestering me with questions, I told him 'I'm fine' and trotted off to investigate daddy's corpse.

Daddy's corpse had several singed regions of fur. On his back and on his flank, severe third degree burns and several lacerations running down the sides of his neck. One long slit stretched across the underside of his neck. I felt water coming down my cheeks, but I didn't know why. The urge to cry. The urge to remember. It all blurred when I heard his voice disappear.

That grief. The essence of existence, crept out of my chest and into my eyes. Nothing inside me told me to move. The coldness told me to stay and listen to Bruise and Tesla. They bickered about near the front door.

"Clean as a fucking whistle. Those Hunters might've taken my eyes out. But... at least Hope is still alive."

"Luna... is that Glass? Oh Luna- shit I can't- I can't see this..."

Didn't care who cried. I had my leads. I'd ask around for information on Hunters.

Bright smile.

Chapter Three: [Determination]

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Four: [Killing Time]

I woke up groggy, a mixture of dying inside and content with yesterday. Sure, hunters were dead. Just didn't know if they were daddy's killers. Probably weren't. But I had practice. Had experience. And, according to my pipbuck, gained a level. Didn't know what that meant, but I'd already felt different. I stumbled out of bed, rolling too quickly. I caught myself with my forelegs, transitioning into some sort of half somersault.

Yawned on my way to the bathroom, humming a lullaby from my memories. When I reached the mirror, I smiled, proud of what I'd learned. I really was shaping up. Couldn't tell if I was what daddy wanted. But I was more than a little girl. I was Glass's daughter. I'd carry on his story.

I thought about how many Hunters had been cruel to mutants. Accounted idea. How many of them carved good people up with a smile like my father. It didn't make me angry. Just... pleasantly happy. At least then, I had something to do.

I gazed into the mirror, smiling.

"It's me."

"What a pretty face." He used to say.

"I never get tired of you, Hope."

That was what he said to me, getting me ready in front of the mirror. I didn't need the physical presence. I had my memories, even in the absence of love. I would hear him sometimes in the back of my mind. He'd tell me to carry on, or that he loved me. It would happen when everything was silent. Sometimes daddy would tell me to break someone's bones a certain way, or that they were vulnerable. I knew, the first time I heard his voice that he never really left.

When I crushed those hunters' ribs, that was him, holding me. Whenever I felt my body moving by itself, it was him. I knew it was. I did. The way my heart calmed, the way the heat felt just right, only daddy could bring that.

I spent some time polishing Daddy's Knife, admiring the little waves along the edge. I was careful not to cut myself on it. For some reason, though, when I tried to replace the handle wrapping, it wouldn't come off. I enjoyed the leathery and silky texture, but it stained and darkened easily. Tried my luck with the pommel. Pommel had a sweet craftsmanship to it. Ended in a perfect, rectangular shape for shoving the blade deeper. For retrieval, the hilt itself was longer than usual and encouraged deep thrusts. Along the region a guard would be, I found a biting grip. The grip material sunk down when pressed and reshaped itself when free of influence.

Uncle Tesla couldn't see me, but he did ask sometimes about the noise. Said I was polishing my present squeaky clean. Auntie Bruise was in the warehouse, probably crying herself to sleep on buffout. I'd left to visit her a couple times. Found her curled up on a medical bed, surrounded by manga. Took some of it and decided to hold her from behind. Felt warm. Just like fresh corpses. Didn't know what to do besides nuzzle her neck with my snout. Even though emotions were a constant challenge, something inside me cared for her. I would never understand the sentiment behind those feelings.

It felt, perhaps, like a perverted sentimentality; an idea of attachment stemming from some sort of primordial preference. The hours I spent laying against her were... pleasant. Warm feeling in my chest. Everything was quiet. Felt right for once again. Only time I remembered feeling that good was killing the Hunters.

When daddy was alive, I was chemically happy. But, that serenity was far-reaching, eternal almost. I felt an overwhelming bittersweet. A place among the stars I called home, that was the peace I felt laying against her... recalling memories of the ribcage slaughter.

It was so comfy, I almost fell asleep. Only, the feeling expired. I felt a chill in my chest, an old, nostalgic emptiness. Then I realized my happiness was gone. I needed it. I needed to experience it one more time. What else could a doe do but cling to satisfying passtimes. I wasn't going to lie. I was addicted. But if murdering highly potential murderers made me happy...?

I'd do it as much as I liked, when I liked.

Auntie Bruise shivered in her sleep. I spotted tears rolling down her cheeks and collecting on her temple. Even if my emptiness was different, I pitied her. She used to feel complete, too. But then, somepony took it away from her. I kissed her scalp and let her go.

I didn't feel enough for her to cry, though I wished her safety as I said goodbye. I knew she needed a lullaby, but the sun was up and twas time to say goodbye. I stopped by the schoolhouse to see if I could buy some information to blackmail the adults. Crept along the walls and stalked beneath the crops. I enjoyed the flaky, decomposing leaves brushing against me. Reminded me of loving forelegs around my waist.

Ms. Drive and Mr. Even Tide were at it again. Early morning rut. Detailed placement of candles and ballgag. They did it over the desk, rocking their hips back and forth. Sex-starved adults. Amusing. Couldn't quit sex if they had to. Birds were chirping and cawing about the scarecrow, masking my noise. I enjoyed taking snapshots of their sins. Made it easier if they ever caught me.

Crept away from mating ritual and shook debris off coat. Felt unclean. I stayed quiet approaching the other school children in the playground. We didn't have school that day. Was almost Hearth's Warming, so children played in toy house. The toy house was the old work station of a famous toymaker. Whatever happened to him, nopony knew.

I found the front door and opened it. The bell rang. But no one came.

Noticed a lack of items to take lining the many basket-filled wall shelvings. Distinct smell of dust, asbestos and plastics. Could've sworn I heard faint whispers. Dismissed it observing the other children. Two zebras. One griffon. Two ponies. No deer, besides me. The ponies and zebras were playing some distinctive ball sport. They bounced a ball against the ground with their hooves and tossed it into baskets.

Felt tired and bored.

Felt okay, but wall stood between us. Children were happy and running around without realizing how it all was. They wished for giddyup buttergirls and new puppies. Their eyes were full of light. It made me sick. Empty. Didn't feel the need to join them in their splendor. Closest urge I had was to stare at the griffon. Wanted to twist their feathers off one by one. Then bathe in oil. Salt wings and marinate in lime-kissed tobasco sauce. Then, enjoy griffon extra crispy and juicy on the inside due to citrus coating.

Griffon noticed me. Feathers ended in orange gradient. Enjoyed staring into her pupils. Golden, tended toward twinkling under light. Sunlight poured in from behind me. Stood in the doorway and observed her. Griffon turned her eyes away, but they always flashed over in curiosity. Three glances. Hn. Showed chemical attraction.

"Is something wrong." I asked.

"N-no, I just... I just don't have anyone to play with. Do you wanna... did you...?"

Sunset orange spread across her cheeks. Spilled over her beak bridge. She rubbed her left foreleg nervously, shying away and stepping back. I decided she was alone like me. Probably deserved better life. Needed a friend. I didn't have any friends, not that I needed them. Just felt like experimenting with sociological bonds.

"Sure. Let's play."

Glimmer of hope in eyes. Didn't realize it was cute at the time. But primal preference told me it was a satisfying visual. Didn't want to disappoint my developing brain. So I followed her around as she ranted on about other kids never being interested. Lead me through entire workshop just to tense up and turn around again.

"Oh, u-h sorry- I guess we don't have anymore Doomsayers & Demons. I-I guess we could play with some toys right?"

I spotted a board game atop a concrete park table not meters away. Around it were three ponies in leather. Early teenagers just lounging around with switchblades and B.B pistols on their belts. All had red hair, liked horsing around and talked like Auntie Bruise. Knew they were from different part of Equestria. Ears perked up to conversation.

"You think that little shit Bird Brain is gonna come around again?"

"Yeah. I wish she did. Been a long time since I got to put someone through a swirly. Could've used some fun back at the crib. Whaddya say we wait for her to come back. The dumb ones always do."

"Ha-! Good idea, Bludgeon! That way we don't even have to get off our asses, eh?"

I clicked the door closed and talked to my friend. Didn't understand bullying that much. But deep down I knew their type. Like hunters. Only weaker. More pathetic. Wanted to hurt something anyway. Needed to gain some influence to have age-appropriate friend. Win-win situation.

"Did they hurt you."

"Well... y-yeah they did. They started slapping me and calling me names at first. Then I told mama and papa but they wouldn't listen. Just- just put my head in the toilets yesterday. I don't wanna go back there. What if they grab me again?"

Let my eyes grow heavy. Felt... calm again. Taste of serenity just over the tip of my tongue.

"Let me deal with them."

She begged me not to go. But I needed to. Couldn't let them keep hurting innocent girl. Griffons grew bigger than ponies. And they didn't forgive so easily. Knew it was for the better even in my ignorant youth. Saw the world for what it was: one big chain reaction. Kill the bandit, or let the hero do it themselves.

I wasn't Swordmare. Or the Silver Storm.

It was me, Hope.

Scrounged around room for teddy bear. Only needed one. Then, found a wooden toy car, followed trail of miniature sleeping bags to find a straw pillow. Filled pillow with a toy truck and snooped around for adults' area. Found wooden door blocked by empty bookshelf. I shoved it over in one push and entered the secret room. Jackpot. Thick, dust and fiberglass particles swam carelessly in the air. Reached single office desk and boarded windows, radiance pouring through tiny crevices in barricaded window. Navigated dark room till I found two cigars, a flip lighter and a screwdriver. Then, taking an extra minute, I found an old, broken pistol within the desk droor.

On the slide were the words 'Der Tote Stein.'

Model was Walker PPK. Later learned caliber through help of adult. Compatible weapon for wielder with opposible digits, but no use to me. Held onto it in my pack, collecting seven .38 rounds and coupling them with the sidearm. Slid out to find bullies taunting friend.

"Yeah? So what, Bird Brain? Your friend is a deer. She ain't so tough. Deers are so skinny I bet they can't even pack a punch."

Bludgeon shoved her against the wall, spilling rows shopping baskets. He formed a wide, twisted grin over his lips. And the lips had feathers in them. He ripped away some of her chest feathers till red cascaded down her winter body. The blood reminded me. And I heard enough, trotting forward.

"Well, well... if it isn't-"

I slammed the pillow into his cheek. The truck crashed into his face and forced tears from his eyes. His cronies stood shocked. But I didn't care. He asked for a truce. I grabbed Bludgeon by the jacket collar and swung him into the door. Waited for him to stumble around. When he turned around to face me, he tried to throw a haymaker. Sloppy. Sheer ignorance.

"You're hopeless."

I ducked, yanked the hem of his jacket and slammed him to the ground. Straddled him and swung my left foreleg down. Snout crunched obnoxiously. The cartilage came snapping upward and brought a smile to my face. Felt good. So good I almost kept pounding him. Friend tackled me to the ground and held me there.

Almost went to push her off when I felt water against me. Tears on my chest. Hot tears. Feathers messy with blood stained my chest till we were the same. Just victims of circumstance.

"Please... you're scaring me. I'm scared. Don't kill him... he's not bad. He's j-just angry. He's angry no one likes hi-him."

Watched the other two scram. Didn't even pick up their 'friend.' Pecking order. Leader was the biggest, meanest asshole around. Found it funny. Found it mildly disappointing. I brushed her wings with my forehooves and promised I'd stop.

Under one condition.

"I'll stop... but if he does it again, I'll rip his beak off."

Told her to get him to the town doctor. Then, dusted myself off after her long hug. Never told her to stop. But I needed my space. Griffon never told me her name, but I'd know soon enough. I frowned seeing the teddy bear. Didn't even get to use it. Trotted off to the dumpster behind the building, tossing the evidence inside. I started a fire with the lighter, then tossed the cigars in to mask the scent of hemoglobin.

Felt good. Decided I should spend more days just killing time

Bright smile.

Author's Note

Level Up!

New Perk Added!

Stalker

You are 15% harder to detect and gain a 15% chance to be ignored when caught if interacting with random passerbys.

Chapter Five: [Room Of Angels]

The old Glyphmark used to be a more tribal society. It also used to be a settlement full of children and teenagers. It was only through necessary evolution that they survived. Adaptation was the secret to success. I learned that reading books from the local archives. Didn't know what to expect till I found those old records. Confusing to read at first since they were in crayon. But eventually, scribery evolved into pencil and pen. Then, newest, through digital means. I was fondest with the blinking, green letters and ones and zeroes.

Somewhere along the line, Glyphmark changed for the better.

It had to fix itself.

The same didn't go for most of the settlers. Two fillies. Two zebras. And one griffon. Five children, six parents, a married couple, one bachelor and my relatives. Seventeen people resided in New Glyphmark, but I knew none of them had direction. New Glyphmark was a messy dream. Ponies settled in to live in peace and have children. Some of them did a poor job.

Griffon's parents were a good example. Negligent. Let her be bullied. Reactive and not proactive. Simple things bad parents never cared to deal with. Simple-minded, traditional and callous. Those were the words that described them. Knew it from the first time I saw them.

I made a schedule of walking Griffon home everyday. To keep her safe and clear of bullies. I didn't let my guard down, even down familiar grounds. Most of the way over was rife with northern wind. The chilling breeze soothed my coat, unearthing memories of Him. The explicit joy of remembering my daddy made me smile. The clouds were looming. And the birds were dead. On days like those, fillies like me were lounging in heaven.

Griffon's beak kept jittering. So I gave her my sweater, warming her with candy cane stripes. I kept on trotting beside her till she leaned closer and snuck her foreleg between mine. The odd sensation puzzled me.

"What are you doing...?"

"O-oh I uh get really cold. I-I'm not used to the snow. I used to live in Las Pegasus. I never even knew what snow was. But mom and dad moved here so..."

I understood. Her life was in transit. Most people were. Even us, all alone in our own little world. I wasn't the drifting type. But I went where I was needed and left for home when my work was done. Griffon shielded her eyes from whistling wind. It blew her wool cap off and flung the article my way. Her forelegs sped up to catch it. But in her rush, she didn't realize she was shoving the hat away by directly reaching for it.

An object in motion had to be caught. It had to be intercepted by meeting the trajectory, not interrupting it.

I stuck more forehoof out, catching it with my left. It fell into my hoof, so I brought it back to Griffon with a 'here.'

"W-wow you... you beat up those bullies and you caught my hat. How do you do that?"

I answered keeping my head on the road, showing her to her home. The house was notbing special. Broken, boarded windows and nails strewn about the floor. Couldn't have been a very happy house. If it was alive, it'd probably starve them to death. Yard was messy, unkempt and littered with paper trash. Surmised it was all their attempts at making the property as ugly as possible, just so no one would approach them.

"Just pay attention and prepare for the worst. Awareness."

I stood by the mailbox confused about why she wouldn't leave. I realized her talons were twiddling together and made the connection. She wanted me to come inside. So, wether I liked the conditions or not, she didn't need to be alone. I kept my teddy bear and combat chems close.

Griffon creaked the door open, peaking in painfully. Her eyelids were scrunched tightly. She squinted about, scanning the room for hostiles I hoped. I never stayed over anyone else's house, outside of my family. The other kids were intolerant. Savage. I probably injured a few during forced playdates. Fun. Amusing when other children cried when they were the aggresors.

Saw an elderly male griffon laying on the couch. He had a beer in one claw and a vodka in the other. Played drunk darts with his wife, who liked to giggle and holler when he scored a point. They stayed speechless when Griffon knocked over a table lamp and gave away our position. They both snapped out of their drunken stupor and greeted us.

"Princess, you never said you had friends coming over..." Her father grumbled, plugging his vodka with a cork.

"Dearie... you need to understand, we would've tidied up and made dinner if we knew there'd be guests. Say, who's your friend?"

Griffon had to reestablish her bearings, darting her eyes around the living room. She slipped off her winter socks and set them in her pack. The expression she had facing her parents, I'd never understand. The sloped brows indicated heavy insecurity. Her hanging beak said she was speechless, and the wobbling knees spoke for themselves.

"Th-this is Hope. U-uh, Mr. Glass's daughter, remember?"

The mention of my father lit their eyes. I knew they were casual acquaintances. They were formally sorry for me. Followed empty disciplines to respect the old security guard. He was much more than that. We were more than our jobs and roles. I sensed right away that they didn't think the same, offering me some orange juice instead of tea or soda.

Rest of the night was unpleasant. Very uncomfortable with Griffon's mother batting her eyelashes at me. Must've thought I was older. Deer physiology made me taller than most ponies. Matured quicker, too. Didn't understand the father's need to talk over everyone at the dinner table. Would argue over every little detail. Didn't listen to others and wouldn't commit to topics. Unpleasant. Times ten. Excused self from table to avoid mundane subjects and half-thawed frozen carrots.

Couldn't stand to stay in house. Had to sit on haunches outside the porch. Enjoyed tiny roof and thin collumns. Reminded me of miniature fort. All to myself. All to me and the peace of mind a fort brought home.

Oh boy. Noted house was just across the street. Would avoid entering and exiting front door indefinitely. Lit cigarette from pack I stole. Enjoyed nicotine and wash of calm over my skin. Wouldn't trade Griffon for the world though. I thought about how miserable I'd be if she wasn't there. Didn't care to remember day before yesterday.

Fought ursa minor. Didn't do anything but teach me what I already knew. I was capable. Carving up those hunters taught me to enjoy it. It taught me purpose. And so did handling her commonwealth bullies. Spotted the fresh moon hanging limply over the mountains. Enjoyed the sight of old light pouring down from the blue midnight. My eyes swam away from the sea of stars, landing on the kitchen window.

"Where's my beer?! Where's my fucking booze?'"

"Did you fucking take it again! Do you know how hard I work to fucking support you!"

"Oh shut it! I don't even drink that slop! I got some martinis from the bar!"

"You keep talking shit! That's why that brat doesn't listen to me! She gets it from you, you fucking retard!"

Slipped away from the porch after lighting some trash in the yard. Would attract attention anytime soon. I dodged the light from the kitchen window and found Griffon. Her eyelids were bloated and red. I stumbled onto her behind the backdoor, hiding between garbage piles. Extended my hoof and glanced down to admire her tears.

"Let's go to my house."

"But what- what if he hits me again?"

"I'll kill your parents if you don't come over."

"Okay- okay, but I-I still want my mom."

We took off without another word. Heard the front door slam closed and then, surpisingly, we had a new guest. Griffon's mother was tailing us. Didn't ask us to come back, though. No. She was glad to follow and keep an eye on her daughter. Unlocked front door, stepped inside and introduced them to the fridge. Avoided telling them about the ribs in the freezer portion. Was careful enough to keep daddy's head in the shack.

"Wow this is... really nice. How come you didn't invite First Rains instead?" Her mother said, keeping her boots on.

I tried not to glare at her when she tracked mud inside.

"Not used to company. Make yourself at home. Will make food." I answered absentmindedly.

Took fifteen minutes or so to make a decent dish. Used radscorpion eggs, purified water, half a blood pack, bite-sized chunks of cheddar cheese and long green beans. Made creamy omelette du fromage and stir-fried the green beans in some homemade vegetable oil. The look on their faces was priceless. Took a picture actually. When First Rains took the first bite, she seemed woozy. Asked if she was okay. Teared up, shut her eyes and nodded her head.

Realized, maybe, they were missing their happiness, too. Maybe they were cold inside just like me. I stayed silent watching them eat, enjoying my own snack. Nibbled on some grilled radrat. While First Rains' mother had her back to me, I took pictures of her rump.

She was wearing a black sequin dress with a short hem. Supposed it'd come in handy later. Especially during hormonal episodes. Started itching between legs for some reason. Mrs. Rains gave a low moan as she enjoyed my savory and textured slop. First Rains did the same, just, in a squeaking, shrill manner.

Grabbed some crayons and white paper. Drew pictures of me and daddy while they ate, puzzled by looks from both of them. Mrs. Rains covered her beak to hide her reddened smirk. Rains herself approached my end of the coffee table, fidgeting with her talons.

"H-hey, Hope...?"

"Yes."

"Can you... can we stay a bit longer? And like, maybe... c-could I stay over at your house more?"

I finished up my drawings, setting the crayons down entirely.

"Mhm." I responded, standing up to stretch canine.

They convinced me to host them all night, one mysterious stranger in a room of angels.

Chapter Six: [Home]

New Glyphmark was quiet. Almost lifeless. Left First Rains and her mother on the couch as I enjoyed cigarettes outside. Front door. Didn't have porch, but that was okay. Didn't need any roof or railing. I stayed sober from the voices in my head, watching the sky crawl awake. Deep, royal blue blanketed the world as it slept. Like caring father. I stayed focused on observing the town itself, particularly the shack walls by Griffon's house.

Watched Mr. Rain sneak out of his kitchen with two young ponies from out of town. Mares not older than supposed wife. Both barely over twenty six. They were giggling and stumbling around. Took turns kissing and slopping lips with each other while he molested them. Criminal. Either they didn't know what type of person he was, or they were shallow. Maybe wanted bad boy or alpha male in life.

Took snapshots with pipbuck, making sure to hide behind innocent file name. Took off before he could see me, trotting around to Auntie Bruise's house. Had to check on her. Daddy would've wanted me to look after old cuddlebuddy.

Arrived to find her staring at bottle of buffout. Then, glanced just left of her to find stockpile of buffout. Four or five just laying around, catching her eyes. Panicked glances. Mild tremble in hooves. Knew what she was trying to do. I wore my best smile and 'accidentally' tripped inside, landing on my left shoulder. Bandages oozed red and left foreleg scar ripped open.

"O-ow... Hi auntie Bruise. Do you have any medicine? I got an owie."

"Gosh little tyke, you scared me- come here, Hope. Let auntie Bruise change those bandages..."

Studied living room furnishings, swinging legs over couch. Put on some long socks, candy cane colors. Then stayed toasty as I waited for her to exit the bathroom. Took pictures of self. Spread legs and faked bedroom eyes, making sure to glorify my innocence. Perfect for later. Didn't waste time with more. Auntie Bruise started us off with juice boxes and tiny, cream-filled snack cakes.

"How you holdin' up, kid...? I heard from some fillies that you handled some bullies at the Toy Shop."

"Mhm." I responded, staring up at her.

"Well, kid... I... I heard some worryin' things. They said you shoved them into the door and beat them on the ground. You wouldn't... you wouldn't really do that, would you?"

Looked on with artifical confusion, scrunching eyelids painfully.

"No... Why would I? I just pushed him away. He was biting her and hurting her, auntie."

Somber expression filled her eyes. Told herself lies, desperate to think I was Him. Knew how people looked when they lied about the truth. Tensed up. Fidgeted slightly. Probably kept themselves in denial by repeating positive words or phrases. Watched her ears droop down and flicker about.

"Y-yeah... you're right, dear. I mean, you are his kid, right...?"

Smiled brightly when she ran her hooves through my hair. Oily locks. But silky, rather than grime-ridden. She gave me a snuggle and kissed my forehead, avoiding my one antler. Left antler. Other one didn't exist. Auntie Bruise rest her chin atop my head... missing wishes.

"Sometimes, I wonder how you'll be when you're older. I think of your old man and what it used to be like... travellin' and beating the piss out of taint mutants. When you were in your mother's gut, you were the quietest baby I'd ever seen. Never kicked. Never even cried much when you were out. You were Glass's little angel, ha..."

Memory tore a piece of my heart away. Remembered his last words.

"I love you. Be good, okay...?"

"Be good, okay...?"

Closed my eyes and realized what happened. Daddy wasn't telling me to stay out of trouble. He was telling me to be like him. Save people. Make life better. He wanted me to love.

I gripped the couch cushion beneath me. Clenched my teeth and stared away at the emptiness. I promised myself I'd do my best. I wouldn't do it because I was angry. I wouldn't kill because it calmed me down. Struggled with heart pains. Lost consciousness.

Woke up to voices of strangers. Yelling, cursing aunt echoed throughout the house. Her voice faded as I was carried away. I found myself hoofcuffed on both sets of legs. Eyes went wide. I was being taken away by peoplr with green, bulky power armor. Realized what was happening when Uncle Tesla put his hoof on Bruise's shoulder. Let them take me away, yanking her back as she rushed forward to reach me.

Her lips were moving, and her eyes were spilling with water. But in the horror of the situation, I couldn't here a word.

I watched her break down and cover her face, rushing water down her chin, spilling over on the grass.

They said the blood art on the bodies matched my hoofprints.

The hunters took me away, blindfolded.

Threw me in a containment facility and left me there.

Cold, dark cell.

I thought about all the people I missed, but no one came.

Chapter Seven: [His Theme]

Five years can do something to a doe. What else was there to say. Dark room. Sometimes let out to mingle with other convicted. Some were nice. Pleasant, even. But most were rotten. Dirty scum. Sometimes literally. Did not get gender-specific prisons, nor did I get any special treatment. I was kept captive all day, fed spoiled food through a door slot in a doggy bowl and entitled to a shot glass of water. Never allowed to stay beside one cellmate for too long. But made connections

Ponies were more forgiving toward my age than other inmates. Found other deer, but didn't speak english. Also tried to assault me in showers. Bashed skull into tiled wall corner. Guards sentenced me to nightly beatings. Became a place I found solace in, realizing the pain of losing everyone I loved could never be replicated. Did not gain love in prison. Gained determination.

Determination became pushups, situps, daily yard gallops and various other exercises. Didn't bother with benchpressing. Instead, learned how to use legs for striking. One of the gym trainers set me up for training when I killed a few feral ghouls in cafeteria basement. Apparently, tunnel complex ran through seedy ingredients storage. Warden gave me dirty look, but also took interest in abilities.

Spent all my nights remembering how Uncle Tesla let me go. All my memories, tainted by that silent hate. Didn't feel like yelling, no. Hate didn't make me loud. It made me quiet. Understood there were no words for such a primal emotion stewing in my gut. Trained on punching bags, kicking bags and other inmates when they tried to ambush me in the showers.

One day, I was moved to the windowed cells. Had bars, sunlight pouring in and even a cellmate. Met a nice young colt incarcerated for serial murder. Saw him smile at the guards as they passed by and felt connection right away. Smile was so insincere. Did not know how to feel, unlike me, who could, but usually didn't. In ways, we were best friends. In ways, he was just a child stuck in purgatory, surrounded by the murderous, yet separated by his frozen cage.

His name was Sunflower Seed.

His mane was gilded and his eyes were milky blue. Seemed more cyan in his left eye, due to what, though, would never know. He didn't have a scar overlaying the bad eye. He wore a striped, black and white outfit like the rest of us. But he had a special trinket with him. Called it a talisman, saying it was his prized possession.

We were in the yard one, misty morning and we stuck to our corner. He sat along the wall as usual, mixing gradients and pastel hues on his canvas. The other prisoners might've laughed at him. Might've called him Flowerboy. But I knew his genius. I peaked over as I curled twenty pounds, training my left foreleg.

"Hey, Sunflower. What's that."

His eyes were heavy as he rasped the answer out.

"This... well, this is art. This is my take on Starry, Starry Night. Notice the berry reds looming over the happy, glowing city. This is what we call tension. The shapes above the tiny city are large and jagged to cause alarm. I'm not sure why a bloody sky would want to eat a city, but... this is just my mood."

Put left cloven forehooves over lips... smiling.

"Can you do the same with blood?"

His head jolted upright and lightning struck his eyes.

"My word... you're right. We could do that. We could use blood and mix it with paint to keep it from browning. Oh, you're a genius, Hope. An absolute genius."

"If I'm a genius, can you teach me how to paint?"

Loose, relaxed smile splayed over his lips. Sunflower gazed upwards and took in the clouds. Painted canvas of splotchy oranges, honey and splotches of berry juice. The breeze kicked our manes up as we met eyes. I just... stared into him, patient for an answer. But a soft light shone in his. When he answered, he turned his head and tried to hide the warmth in his cheeks.

Cool violet pigments over his muzzle bridge.

Hot.

"Well... I... I suppose it wouldn't be too much, Hope. Just promise me you'll do me a favor once we're done. It won't be much."

I agreed. I was clueless to the favor, but I figured if it was sex, I wouldn't mind. Body was going haywire at the time. Hormonally mostly. Sunflower Seed taught me the basics of painting, while I exchanged my knowledge of drawing. Struck him dead with awe when he learned shading and bolding determined organic visuals. I was dumbstruck when I discovered vivid painting. Ninety nine percent smudging colors. Ten percent vision and witty corrections. Could not fathom how he learned all his technique at such a young age.

We spent the rest of our night discussing manga, comic books and radioplays. He criticized anime for not being realistic.

"I mean, what is this... power fantasy? Who wants to be a superhero at the age of sixteen. Wouldn't you be more interested in mares and fitting into society? What about those terrible middleschoolers-controlling-robots cliché. That doesn't make any sense."

I gave my rebuttal clicking away on an old typewriter the warden gave us. Something about creating distractions in lieu of Hearth's Warming. We were forced to write a script for an overly sappy holiday special. I was no playwright. But that's probably why he chose me in the first place.

"You criticize anime but you really don't see flaws in classical literature. The obscure terminology is nothing to brag about when the slang they use has more than one meaning and can make or break your experience. Not to mention, though manga has power fantasies littered all over the place, victorian and early 1900's literature focuses on boring high class daydreams. Authors of the past used to write rape in a novel to appeal to the chaste noblewomen. And don't get me started on all that ludicrous stockholm syndrome..."

We dispensed criticism the entire night. But, it was pleasant conversation. No one else in our lives had the mental capacity. And some days, neither did we. That night in particular, we slept soundly, ruffling our coats together. I flicked my tongue against his chin, just to tease him.

Sunflower loved it. But he shifted his muzzle away so I could spoon him from the rear. As I lay behind him, my only friend in the winter raging on, I felt serenity again. Maybe he wasn't innocent. Wasn't cute like First Rain. But he understood me. Feeling in chest coursed through my veins. Felt disconnected from the hate of the prison, becoming deaf to howls of violence outside our cell. I closed my eyes and pictured myself painting... making daddy's voice proud.

He told me he had a plan to break free one day. But it'd take the knife at somepoint. Daddy told me he loved me and called me his princess.

Bright smile.

Author's Note

Level Up!

New Perk Gained!

Dreemur

Your desire to paint increases your bleed damage by 5%, while decreasing your ballistic damage by 5%, too. You can now extract blood to produce blood packs, provided an empty I.V bag is available.

Chapter Eight: [Heavenly Star]

Sometime after I got to know Sunflower, the hatred started fading away. I wasn't so much bitter about daddy's death as I was happy he was a part of my life. I didn't even care about the beatings or the rapes. The guards had their fun all night every other weekend, but I had a secret. I just imagined him. It didn't matter what happened to me at that point. When you really live through hell, just to find paradise, the world grows brighter. It grows bolder, stronger and more attractive than ever before.

I realized in my time imprisoned, that I was just that close. I was so close to discovering happiness. Somedays, I had to flush my insides to kill the seed. Sometimes, he even helped me. But unlike most people, he didn't blame me. He never said I was horrible for getting off to it, because he knew I shut my eyes and thought of him. He knew how I felt. Even if... he himself felt unsure of us.

We were in the showers, me pressed up against the wall. He nipped my neck and took to pumping my ass. I shuddered when it spread me open. Sunflower wasn't the longest around, but he was thicker than any of the others. My mate tugged my forelegs in the air and suspended me by them. He stuck it in to the ring and slopped against me. I bit my lip, grunting and groaning from his expert sticking. The glaze of his precum washed my insides, tingling deep inside. I shut my eyes and left my mouth agape.

"Better than the guards?" He hushed, grinning slyly, forcing a kiss when I turned around to talk.

We took turns licking each other, his muscle between my legs and mine in his mouth. I couldn't answer well enough. My brain was addled from squishing kisses against my gut. His girth stretched all the right spots. It safisfied me so much that I could feel my hips shaking and bucking around. Sunflower's hammering made me puffy and swollen between my legs. I enjoyed his last few thrusts, shoving into me till I drooled and screamed in orgasm.

"Better than anyone..." I cursed, wobbling in my knees.

I squirted all over his pubic mound... tired and sloppy.

I felt him carry me out, carrying a shiv between his teeth. And when anypony else eyed me, he threatened them in numerous levels of intimidating. When we met, I thought he'd be a softspoken pacifist. But really, the way he looked through everyone, I knew he was soneone else. His eyes were fixed to mine when we were together, but he saw the others as dust and clay. They were just background noise.

We lay against each other in bed, me all huffy and puffy, Sunflower blazing with violet blush. We were just kids, despite all our brains and armchair intelligence. That much never changed, even in adult activities like lovemaking. The two of us kissed and nicked away at each other, smooching lips and coats to heart's content. I even put a teddy bear between my hindlegs just to tease him.

"That's a good girl. Pretend you don't want it." He teased, using my pipboy to take pictures of me.

I glanced away, hot all over, spreading my legs for him, but keeping my teddy where it was. He'd taken me missionary the next half hour, using the toy to cover our parts. I felt alive in his forelegs, held back and forth, and sometimes down by the stallion of my dreams. I closed my eyes when he finished, squirting inside of me as many times as he liked. The odds that I'd be pregnant were astounding. But it thrilled me to think he could make me have his foals.

Even if... you know, we were different species and it didn't actually work that way.

We slept for hours. And when we woke, he smiled lazily, eyes heavy and hair shining in the moonlit dark. I watched his ears perk up as I licked his chest fur and got on my stomach, inviting him in. We talked between thrusts and gasps, his hips heavy against me.

"A-are you r-ready?" He cursed, fucking me hard with short claps.

"N-no, I can't even think straight..."

"Well, we have to do it tonight, remember? It's the only- mmh~ way-!"

I tensed up and clamped down on his cock. My folds clung to his prick and I melted in rapid succession. He hit my special spots and crammed his prick where it hurt. I coulf articulate the blasts of cream striking my walls. I layed silent as he filled me with buckshot, firing over and over till my tongue hung out.

"Okay... okay. W-we do it tonight. But, you better make me cum ten times in a row." I gruffed, groaning and wiggling my rear up and down.

I milked the last drops of his batter away, using my body to collect his essence. He stayed on top of me and claimed my mouth, licking and flicking my tongue slimey. I couldn't do anything but shiver that evening, entranced by his rough and penetrating ministrations. Sunflower Seed held my hoof as we climbed out of bed and consulted our contact: the chef, who'd been standing right there the entire time.

He was a tall colt with long, scraggly hair. Little did I know, he had connections with Sunflower even I didn't reach. My bloodmate greeted him with a wave, giving a thrust just to embarrass me. I looked away, ashamed and too warm to deny it.

"Mr. Coldbridge. How are you? Sorry about that- an artist needs to express himself. And what better way to express my love than drugging my lover with her favorite chem?:

"None, Master Seed. Are you quite finished. Your followers are waiting. And they'll be most gracious to see their Lord returned."

"Heh... of course I am. In five minutes, anyway. Be a dear and leave us be... She needs her snuggles, too."

Chapter Nine: [Run]

We escaped the prison, outrunning the last of nothing because all we did was take the underground tunnels. The warden was so sure of his indoctrination techniques that he never guarded it with live security. Instead, he'd settled on automated turrets. Sunflower Seed only needed a single molotov cocktail to get rid of two clustered units. Didn't know why the warden clustered them, though. Made them easier to target all at once.

The real escape was running from our simple life in captivity. We didn't know what to do out there, did we. We were just children putting on adult costumes. I realized that right away when we found a shoddy, unmarked settlement far south of Canterlot.

We stayed together, alone in the musty rainfall crashing down on us. The clouds broke apart in tiny white seams and ripped open with celestial quakes. I watched him lead me down the hill, patient like someone I needed in my life, someone to ground me and take care of me. I watched his eyes scan the flat horizon before he declared 'let's raid that town over there.'

I froze, clenching his forehoof with my own.

"What if there are children there... Won't we hurt them?"

"We don't have to kill any of them. Just the adults. You know what they're like, Hope. They're nothing but trouble." He said, glancing back at me, his eyes brilliant with cyan light.

I felt familiar comfort in his gaze. Those empty eyes made me sleepy. Warm. I was compelled to follow his wishes and become his trusted commandant. Thunder struck the earth and I saw a glimpse of him in the lightning, soiled with rain and mud over his perfect features.

"I don't understand. You never said that- you never said you hated adults. You told me you killed raiders."

"I do, Hope. I just don't trust them. Look at what they did to you. You know very well they're going to abuse those kids. Or sell them. That's the world these days."

I believed him. Uncle Tesla sold me to the Hunters. He knew I'd be getting used by people I didn't even know, didn't he. He already knew what they did to mutants and people associated with them. I felt that memory hollow out my chest and pull me toward him. We made our way to the village without another word, side-by-side. My blade was between my teeth, and his weapon, a bite-activated .44 revolver, served as our shield. Nothing in Equestria could convince us that the adults were worth saving.

We stormed the settlement and found mercenaries holding children in pens. The pens were chainlink fences filled with training equipment and wooden weapon models. Most of them were asleep, but the ones we found had no reaction other than to arm themselves. Sunflower Seed trotted up to the holding pens and whispered over to them.

"Hey, fellas. Are these adults keeping you hostage?"

Three of the eight shrugged, some nodding and others, probably unsure of their sanity. I watched the first trio creep closer, armed with wooden rifle props. I realized the lot of them were scarred with time and grime, one even missing half an ear. The shape of his remaining flesh said: teeth marks. I felt phantom pain in my gut seeing their miserable conditions.

"Sure. You two need some extra muscle. We don't need caps. Just some food and ammo. We can sleep on the floor if you want."

That night, I learned how to set explosives and blow out locks. Simple ones, like padlocks, didn't take much. But sometimes the shockwave didn't suffice and breaching was done by blowing out the surrounding area. He shot a mine near the chainlink gate and freed them. Sunflower Seed gathered his new mercenaries and took care of the adults inside. I watched over the remaining eight.

A select few woke kicking and screaming, but I did my best to soothe them. Some were barely older than foals. Others were fillies barely out of potty-training. Whatever they wanted, I did.

"Wh-where's my mommy."

The voice came from behind me. I turned to see her, that filly all torn up by whip scars and bruises. The stench of her neglect desensitized me to the tears in her eyes. I knew how tears looked. Not even a rainstorm could hide them. I knew her puffy, beaten eyelids. Violent maroons and azures marked the times she lost faith in the world. And the curious question, whimpered away in the storm, was my own.

"I... I don't know. But I'll help you find her. I promise."

Her eyes went from dim, to bright, to bittersweet. And the pain scrunching her face became radiant. I watched myself cry, barely older than a filly by name, but too young to say her own.

I held her close and told her I'd take her home... that we'd run till we couldn't remember what we were missing.

Chapter Eleven: Bear Necessities

I wrote Sunflower Seed when I could. We stayed away after we decided to 'take a break.' I stayed away because I knew what that word meant. So did he. It meant we were done. The words 'take a break' never meant anything else. Even if people wanted you to believe it did, they were wrong. When someone said they wanted to 'take a break', that was the first sign to start moving on. They were only saying it that way to not hurt your feelings.

I knew myself. I used to love the colt he was. But as time went on, we drifted. Sex was empty and one-sided. Kisses didn't last as long as they should've. And eventually, we stopped talking. He would always switch the subject, or never even pay attention. I was just a distraction. Just another way to get him off.

After leaving New Glyphmark and leaving Sunflower to claim the ruins for his own, I wandered the wastes. I lost everything. My family. My lover. I even lost most of my food supply, because I was in too much of a hurry. My pipbuck recorded several locations along the way. Trekking it all in one day was a chore. I'd raided some unmarked shacks along the way, but never slept in the beds. I had, in the back of my mind, a sneaking suspicion that I'd be ambushed.

I took an oath to skip all the major cities. New Appleloosa. Dodge Junction. Fillydelphia. Even though places like Fillydelphia carried old demons from the past, that's not why I avoided them. I didn't want any company in the Equestrian wasteland. I didn't feel the need. I didn't feel anything but the urge to move on till my legs gave out. And when my legs gave out, I'd gallop as far as I could, just on two legs; one broken, one eaten, away from the world I used to feel so safe in.

I came full circle, losing the two most important men in my life. So I stayed away from the rest of the insane asylum, straying from the railroads and the main roads. Eventually, though, my life took a turn for the odd. I stayed sober from the harsh wind of the wastes when I stumbled on a marked outpost by the name of 'Junctiom Town.' Inside this place was a cornucopia of different goods and ponies. Before I could slip away, though, something else caught my eye.

Just outside the walls were three ponies and one bear. The bear himself had a mask of glossy bronze. The mask was larger than his head and worked like a helm. The expression it had was bestial and furious. Even the muzzle of it bore sharp teeth shapes between upturned, smirking lips. I noted his attire, all around normal and lightly armored. He wore a thick, midnight longcoat with heavy leather armor over the forelegs. He stood in the center of the conflict. It seemed fitting that his sleeves were torn away, because his forelegs were swollen with might.

The three stallions surrounding him wore snazzy pinstripe suits and black rim glasses. I stepped forward till I realized they were unicorns toting powerful submachine guns.

"You know how this works, shithead... You quit the trigger business, you resign with your blood. Any last words, teddy?"

He answered in this low, savage growl. The bass of his voice rumbled the bone in my sternum. I could feel the mucus in my chest rattling around in obedience. I could barely understand the voice behind the mask, but I recognized the accent. Usually, only members of the Knightood of Bear Government had thick Bearsky accents.

"Yes..." He answered, fixing his mask.

"You should think about swallowing cyanide. Less painful than what I'll do you."

The roar of .45 spray echoed throughout the wasteland. It struck my ears deaf as I watched the bear rush foreard, struck dozens of times over and over, but never deterred. When he reached the first triggercolt, they tried to bash him away. He blocked with his left elbow and swiped effortlessly with his left. The impact tore half of their face clean off, revealing sinews and optic nerves dangling over his cheekbone.

"What I tell you, stupid little pony! I never make bad on promise!"

He beat his chest, thick with crimson over his coat. The other two kept firing till he landed on all fours and erupted with a booming roar. It's very substance blew their manes back and forced them off-balance. They were both knocked back by a rushing, reckless tackle. Only, when he knocked them away, he shoved them to the ground and ripped their legs off.

All four limbs each pony. He took joy in rotating the shoulder cuffs clockwise, stopping gingerly when he heard them snap. That was when he tore the legs clean off, no hanging meat or anything.

"Oh fuck-! My leg...!"

I watched that bear swing a severed limb down. The collision split the colt's head open and put him out for good. How long he spent cooling down, I couldn't recall. But I stood there, just one meter away. His hulking figure turned towards me, but I held my ground, crouching low and easy. A stray gust kicked snow all around us, and I held my position till he reached me. I spun my knife idly, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Brave girl... but bears have code of honor. If you really hit woman before she try to kill you, you're weakling. So tell me, little dear... how is your father doing?"

I felt my body go slack. Nothing inside me wanted to hurt him. Everything, even my own legs, told me to show him mercy.

"How... how did you know about my father?"

The bear removed his mask, showing me one, scarred mug. His eyes were replaced with cybernetic optics, focusing and defocusing at will. A dim, crimson warmth radiated from his eyes, drawing me closer. His lower jaw was also cybernetic, giving him vicious, alloyed fangs. He broke into this twisted, gruff smile, one only a beast could wear.

"Know your father...? I fought him twice, little deer. But you look worse for ware. And I made promise: so come. I show you how to do what me and him used to do. Don't die during training, though. Then he'd come back to finish the job, eh?"

I glanced away and kicked my foreleg.

"How can I trust you...?"

"Hm. Little deer, when me and your papa fought, I ripped off his arm. And he took out my spirit. But the second time, we understood. World needed people like us. Strong people. I would never waste strong person like you. Now come with me, deer. Pride makes promises, Pride keeps."

He lead me to Junction City, where I became a full-fledged mercenary.

Chapter Ten: [Hearth's Warming.]

We didn't have a tree this year. Never did. But the date of the holiday kept my lips sewn together. I didn't know what to do on Hearth's Warming. Mostly, because of what happened on that day. Somewhat, because I could remember every little detail. From the way the air smelled, to how his eyes drooped saying goodbye. I felt familiar forelegs wrap around my waist. I nuzzled his neck and rubbed myself against his sheathe. Sunflower nibbled my right ear, talking just after.

"How's my little princess doing?"

"I'm... just being nostalgic. Watching the snow fall reminds me of Him."

"I... I didn't know. I should've brought you somewhere else. We can go to-"

"No... I'm just attached to this place. New Glyphmark is where I grew up. It's where my family was."

We held each other over the snow-ridden wreckage of New Glyphmark. And over the empty sidewalks, we walked, watching the snowflakes cover rubble. I could maybe hear the ghosts of their voices, all the people I never appreciated. I wished for a lot of things roaming my old haunting grounds. But nothing more than Auntie Bruise and First Rains. Although I was happy holding Sunflower's hoof, I felt wrong bringing him to the ruins of an old sanctuary.

I felt deep down that I should've been holding someone else's hoof.

Even though we were side-by-side, I felt a stranger's warmth. The more he showed himself, the less I wanted to stay. Something changed in him after we left prison. His eyes weren't the same. Seemed to glance away from me and show me no priority. Even when we kissed, I could feel a limpness in his forelegs and tongue. I stopped short of my old house, trotting away from him to reminisce.

"Hope... where are you going?"

"I just... I just need time alone, Sunflower. I need to think."

"But why... Why don't you take me with?"

"Because I, I need to be by myself."

I closed my eyes and felt my heart stop. He left like I told him to. And we stayed alone, together, enjoying Hearth's Warming as the world swallowed us whole and split us apart.