I didn't die that day, though it wasn't for lack of trying. When I first came to I knew that I was alive; death couldn't be that painful. Sand had been blown into my wounds and was stinging my insides. However, the clots of blood and sand were also stopping my bleeding. I opened my voice to call out, but only a hoarse whimper came out into the night. I wanted to just go back to sleep and shut off the pain, but if I did that I knew death wouldn't be far away; so I opened my eyes to face what was around me. A full moon gave me a perfectly dim illumination of everything despite the cloud cover.

I saw the sand beneath me died a deep red with my blood and my fore hooves out in front of me. Ahead most of the town had burned down thanks to some strong gusts which left smoldering piles of ash everywhere. Above everything else I could see the faint outline of the moon peeking through a thing spot in the cloud cover. I wasn't dead yet, and I damn sure wasn't ready to just die without anypony else around. I summoned strength I thought I didn't have and stood up.

The doctor's clinic seemed to be a building that had been mostly untouched, given that it was flanked on either side by old prewar masonry I wasn't surprised. I hobbled over as best I could while using my wings to help balance my steps. I winced every time I moved, but, compared to what I had been through, it was manageable. The door to the clinic had been ripped off of its hinges and thrown into the street. Needless to say that didn't bode well for what was inside, but nevertheless I went inside.

"Son of a bitch." I heaved, seeing the state of what was my only hope.

Every shelf was empty, every cabinet opened and the entire interior looked like it had been hit by a frag. I walked the whole place over to see if any one bit of medicine had been left. However I found nothing but dust and shattered glass; the raiders must've spared no time looting while I bargained for time because every shelf in the clinic had been cleared out of any supply of medicine. Well, any immediately visible supply of medicine that is. There were two other stores of medicine that I assumed would be untouched, but neither seemed like a good idea. The first was the cellar which was infested with radroaches that I was in no condition to try to fight and the second was the chem stash hidden underneath the doc's old bed. I assumed that would still be there since a few of the farmers had something of a jet problem and the doc kept it well hidden. The problem of course being that none of it was real medicine as far as healing goes, but I had a half baked idea to deal with that.

I managed to push the mattress out of the way before collapsing. The floor hurt at first, but also felt pretty nice. I almost fell asleep on that cold concrete, but a syringe and an inhaler in a small hole caught my eye. I had never used Rage or Dash before, but I knew the effects of them well enough. I pulled both of the drugs out of the hole and stared at them for a moment, considering my actions. I knew that I probably shouldn't use them, but a little voice in my head kept telling me my chances of surviving without them were low. Well, it is only once. I thought before sticking the needle into my chest and taking a long drag of Dash. The effects were... immediate to say the least.

The entire world seemed to stop in front of me. The inhaler dropped to the floor with painstaking slowness, I felt like I was going to run out of oxygen from how slowly I was breathing and I could count each individual dust particle, of which there were 1958 in total, floating in the room. The Dash finally hit the floor and everything sped up. I jumped off of the floor in a heartbeat and dashed back into the main treatment room. I tore the rug from the floor and dove right into the wooden trap door that led to the cellar. I could barely see, but all around me I could hear the roaches chirping at me. I could see them, but I could also feel them walking around me, every little click taking a year to end. Not that it mattered, because I was pissed. I wasn't pissed at the roaches, pissed at my aggravated wounds, pissed at the annoying fucking thumping of my heart, but just pissed.

I took one step forward, smashed a tiny roach underneath my hoof and then it was on. I've never been good at hoof to hoof combat, but that little voice in my head kept telling me to smash them all, so I did. The cellar was only about 200 square feet of open space and shelves on the walls, so there was plenty of space to rampage. After the first roach I ran forward and trampled another three before one managed to bite my left hind leg. I stared at the nuisance for a split second before squashing it against the wall. Sadly that split second gave the other twenty-five or so roaches time to gang up on me. Before I could yell I had them on my back, my chest, my ass and my wings, but now I was really furious and things were beginning to slow down even more. I slammed my flank into the wall to shake some of the roaches off and my head into the floor for the rest. Another pounced at me, but I bit it out of the air. The disembodied head squirmed in my mouth for a second before I spit it out along with some blood. If roaches could feel fear, they were feeling it now. A few backed off while I kicked and chewed on any more that tried to attack me. I killed another twenty roaches before I realized that there weren't any left in the room.

"Where'd you little fuckers run off to?" I was actually trying to taunt radroaches. I am ashamed of that.

I frantically scanned the room for another one, anything to vent my rage at. Then I noticed a pony sized hole in the floor, and felt something rising from it. Before I could jump down to meet whatever it was a giant radroach came out. Now I knew why the doc wanted to use poison to kill them. The beast was as large as I was and had a few scars to prove its age and durability. I noticed the mandibles on it were large enough to sever my head from my body just in time to slice through the whole thing with one sweep of my sword. It's not like you could expect much of a fight from a big roach. The separated halves fell down into the hole and with them my high started to fade.

The Rage left me first, which was probably a good thing since I was about to jump down the hole for a better fight. However that also meant that my pain tolerance was gone and I could now feel the blood pouring out of all of the new openings as well as all of the old ones. I screamed in agony once before the dash wore off. Now to top off the pain I felt like I had just been turned into a snail, a very slow, bleeding, tiny snail that needed a healing potion since last week. I looked at the only two shelves in the room and gave a sigh of relief. There were two glimmering bottles of magical healing potions. Even better, they were on the bottom shelf!

I fell to the floor and dragged myself across the room like the snail I was; leaving a trail of my blood for my slime. I felt like dying there on the floor when I made it to the shelf, but I managed to pull myself up enough to grab a bottle. I figured most of my bullet wounds were through-and-throughs given that they were all around the edges of my legs, so downed the medicine in one glorious gulp. I could feel my legs healing and the gash in my side closing before the bottle had even left my lips. I dropped the empty and stood up to drink the other potion. Thinking back I don't think I really needed two potions, but when you've been bleeding out for the past eight hours, you don't really care. By the time I had thrown the next empty onto the ground I was back in top condition, save for the fact that I still felt like a snail.

Standing up without wanting to fall over was definitely a weird feeling, but a good one and my mind was actually clear enough for once that I could take inventory of what was left to loot. There was a small package of bandages, a single magical healing bandage, a single dose of anti-venom both of which I clipped to my somehow still immaculate harness. There was one package of antibiotics, but I used those immediately to ensure the radroaches hadn't infected me with anything while I was being bitten. Sadly that was it for the medical supplies, though there was a set of small leather bags that I gladly took and organized my things into. That was everything though, doc had moved most of his storage upstairs when the roaches first showed up and sadly that was all stolen.

I flapped my wings and rose out of the cellar. The first thing I wanted to do was sleep, but I knew that sleeping unarmed in what was now a completely undefended and almost deserted town wasn't a good idea. That, and I was starving. I walked out and over to where Carnage's Guns and Goods store had once stood, but found it to be completely burned out. I didn't say anything and just walked past it back to where I had killed the raiders. I was getting oddly used to my first plans being shot down. I danced around the small piles of ashen bodies to hunt for a still usable weapon.

I found two shotguns, but dismissed them both given a lack of ammo and my inability to get more than one shot off with one. Thank Celestia that there was a usable hunting rifle. It had a short stock and barrel, which made it seem more like an oversized pistol than anything, but the mag looked like it held a good ten rounds, which was better than anything else around. I would've given it a test fire, but with limited ammo I was just hoping it worked well. I strapped the rifle in where my revolver had once been before moving on.

The only produce we had readily available was corn which I greedily ate off of the stalks. I ate my fill and then some before even thinking to set some aside for the road. I constantly looked over my shoulder to make sure I was safe. Not that there was a reason to be worried when I was the only one left. I think that was what I was afraid of though. I was afraid of even allowing myself to think that I was alone. I distracted myself again after gathering food by going through the remaining homes and taking anything valuable, which was only a small mirror and four canteens which I filled up at our water pump. It was irradiated slightly, but it was still water. My distractions had finally run out though and without them I was left with only one thing to do, remember my situation.

I looked around for the first time that night without real purpose. I saw the tiny body of a filly still impaled by a pool cue through the eye and a decapitated stallion a few feet away. I saw that almost every building had been decimated by flames and the ashen piles with bones still poking out. I looked down the street and saw the large black heap that had once been my home. I walked over at what seemed like a painstakingly slow pace and stared into the pile. I looked at the bones and the black and wondered at what I had done. There had been a first option, an option to just accept slavery and see where it took me, but I had chosen the second option and gotten everypony but myself killed. I had, however, gained my own freedom at that cost. I had used the lives of a dozen innocent townspeople for my own gain.

I did not feel any sadness or remorse though. I did not cry for their deaths or wish vengeance on the raiders who caused this for killing them. I didn't know what to feel. I think at them time I genuinely lacked the emotional capacity to feel anything for them. All I felt was a heavy determination. I had a place to go. I had a purpose for myself beyond slavery, or farming or being a greed mayor for a backwater town. I told myself that they had been unfortunate and when I thought of how they had acted before I went to fight, I thought that they had largely deserved their fates.

"Thanks doc." I whispered at the pile before walking away.

On some level I did feel sad for that loss. The doc had taught my minor brewing, followed my plan to a T and it was the supplies he left that had allowed me to survive thereafter. His death was the regrettable one; the other deaths were just ones that I added to the pile that would drive me. I had been the cause of twenty one deaths in my life to that moment. It wasn't much, but that number was how I chose to remember them.

=-=/

I left the next morning without looking back. I took with me what I had found the day before along with the remainder of the doc's drug stash. I hoped I wouldn't need it, but an extra dose of Dash and Rage couldn't hurt. I took the road south to Maremoros, but I had no clue how long it would take. I could remember my mom going there once or twice, but the trips had taken anywhere from a week and a half to three weeks, which wasn't very helpful. However I had been to a small settlement about three days travel away once before and assumed I would be able to get proper supplies and some directions there.

The road south was much safer than the road to the west and I was thankful for that. To the west of my home there was nothing but a large expanse of dunes that were infested with bloatsprites. My direction had a different type of enemy, luck. While essentially void of any animals besides the occasional pack of radhogs, the southern way was extremely flat. I walked along the cracked pavement and could see for miles in any direction. While it was nice, it also meant that any rock could just be a hiding space for a scavenger looking for an easy kill.

Flying was even less advisable. While it would've definitely been faster than walking, it also made me an extremely vulnerable target. I figured that, as long as I could make it to the valley, I could then feel safe enough to fly, but that was still at least a day's journey ahead. I left myself to the mercy of the wasteland and traveled on, a sitting duck in an open pond.

=-=/

I made it twelve hours before my luck ran out. I was almost thankful for the action, the most eventful thing I had been doing was drawing my blade constantly. The valley, and with it safety, had been in my view for some time. Two large hills rose out of the sand for no seemingly good reason and the road between them snaked through like a river. The valley was generally safe because it was at a point where water of any kind was at least a day away, not counting a return trip. I was only about a mile away when the first shot rang out.

The shot impacted the sand a few feet to my right, but I jumped away regardless. I took a quick scan of what was close to me, but sadly I was at a point where there weren't any rocks to hide behind. A second shot came and hit just in front of me, but that helped some. I at least knew the shooter was in front of me and most probably to the right. I took off flying toward the valley with all my speed. I assumed that since the sniper couldn't hit a still target that a moving target would've been outside of their skills. I also assumed there was only one shooter.

My second point was proven wrong by a sudden mass of bullets flying past me. Most of them were just as bad as I had hoped and only a few bullets managed to graze my fur. I could also tell where the shots were coming from now. There was a small boulder about 200 feet ahead of me where I could see and hear lead flying. If I could make it past there without being hit, I would probably be fine. I pumped as much strength as possible into my wings, but by the time I was a mere fifty feet away a bolt of pain racked my body. I had been shot just through the front of my left leg and out the left side of my flank. The injury wasn't going to kill me, but it did take me out of the air. I hit the concrete hard and skid along like a sack of bricks for a good twenty feet. I didn't have much strength, but I managed to detach my blade and knot it into my mane. All I could do was hope they didn't kill me or notice it.

My ears were ringing from the impact, but I could hear some muffled voices in my delirium. I turned to where I thought my attackers were and saw a few blurry outlines. After a few moments the voices stopped and a sharp spike of pain to the back of my head knocked me out.

=-=/

I woke up to the dull hum of florescent lights and to a throbbing pain in my haunch. I opened my eyes to see a steel walled room filled with an array of different pipes snaking around and a single door ahead of me. My fore hooves were shackled around a pipe above me and my back legs around another below. I pulled as hard as I could, but the metal was strong while I was still exhausted. I checked for my weapons, but saw that my bags and rifle had been taken. My harness remained at least and somepony had taken the time to bandage my wounds. All in all, it could've been much worse.

"Well look who decides to wake up." As if on cue a pony in raider armor walked in through the door with a lead pipe floating beside him.

"Where am I?" I croaked, realizing how dry my mouth really was.

"Stable 107, or at least that's what the door said until we blew it open, but seeing as nopony really knew about it until we got here you'd probably know it better as one of the two hills in the valley."

"You mean to tell me that we're in a stable, inside of a hill, and nopony ever found it? Why don't we stop the charades?" This comment earned me a slam from the lead pipe on my back.

"Don't call me a liar boy. It's only because I'm going to find this funny that you're even alive, not because I'm merciful."

"What's going to be funny, beating me with a pipe?" I manage to mock even though I got another strike.

"I'm going to leave you in here and watch you die. I'll give you just enough water to stay alive long enough for starvation to kill you. I'll watch the weeks go by as you beg and cry for food and then death. Every day I'll peel away a little more of your skin, slowly remove and muscles underneath and then bandage you up and drug you just enough to keep you alive and in pain. I think it'll be quite the show."

"And why do you want to torture me like that? I doubt you put this much effort in every prisoner." I was more confused than scared. After all, I still had an ace up my sleeve.

"Most prisoners didn't kill my sons." Thankfully he put the pipe away.

"Your sons?" I started to have vague recollections of two bright green raiders I had killed and how both of their weapons and armor had been better than the rest. "Oh shit."

"That's right. You killed both of my boys back in your backwater town and even had the audacity to take one of their guns for yourself. I will thank you though; your actions made it much easier to take control of this little outfit. Nopony objected after that shit show," he turned and left the room, "Which is why I'm giving you one day of rest before the torture begins."

I was once again left alone with my thoughts and the humming lights in that cold room. Damn it, why did I have to kill them? If I had killed the old leader I might've even been welcomed here with open hooves. Now I'm stuck in this prison with nothing to do but die. There was a silver lining though; if I hadn't killed his sons, I probably would've been killed on the road. I took a deep breath and shut out my complaints. I just need to get out of here, nothing else.

I pulled myself up enough so that my hooves could reach my mane. I started to fumble around as best as I could until I found where the blade was tangled. I had never been so glad to have not combed my mane. I spent the next fifteen minutes just trying to pull it out without having to cut off my precious length, or my neck for that matter. I did finally manage to grab it out in my right hoof and breathe a sigh of relief. That led to the tricky part though, cutting myself loose without cutting off a leg. I didn't really have a plan being as I couldn't see behind myself and the blade didn't exactly have a lifespan for precision work. So I winged it pulled the blade out. It cut through the shackles on my fore hooves easily, but I also managed to cut myself about half an inch deep on my right leg. I muffled my yelp and landed on the floor with a dull throb of pain. I quickly sheathed and drew the blade again to cut my hind legs free in case anypony had heard me.

I watched the door with anticipation for a full five minutes before calming down enough to breathe. I reattached the sword to my harness before checking my wound. The cut looked gruesome, the skin was stretched and discolored, but the muscles and blood vessels underneath seemed to have burned together enough to keep it from bleeding. I would have to remember that slashes and grazes wouldn't be very deadly with this weapon. Regardless, I walked over to the door and put my mouth on the hilt. 3... 2... 1... go...

I dived through the opening as soon as it was large enough, slashing at the open air. Nopony was there though, just a single staircase up and forward. Wherever I was, I was at the bottom, and I didn't like the idea of having to fight my way out of the belly of the beast. With no small amount of trepidation, I ascended the steel stairs. The humming lights were already starting to wear on me. The steel walls were one thing, but how anypony could live in a pit with this constant hum I would never know. Granted, I guessed they weren't exactly made for comfort so much as survival. At the top of the staircase, I was faced with an option, left or right. I could hear many voices to the left and I heard nothing from the right which ended in another doorway. I took the right; the other seemed like a death wish. I walked down the hallway quickly to the door and stepped on the pressure plate to open it. On the other side was a brown staring right at me in wide eyed surprise. Before she could scream I had separated her head from her neck. It was officially on now.

I took no time to try hiding or looting the body, instead just rushing into the room with reckless abandon. Not my brightest idea. Inside were another four raiders huddled around a metal table with some bits and pieces of technology. It took a few for them to react to the unexpected intruder. None of them expected an attacker from within, and I used that time to analyze them. Two of them were unarmed while the other two had 10mm pistols. I dove at the armed pair and managed to get a swing in at one of them. I cut up the mares chin and through her skull, but I also took a buck to the ribs from the raider on my right. I felt a couple of ribs crack and threw up on the dead body, dropping my blade in the process.

"Fuckers!" I cursed and rammed into the other gun toting raider.

At that point I had two objectives, make sure nopony fires a gun and kill the remaining three raiders. The first part was going fairly well at that point. I had a much lighter build than the earth pony I rammed, but the surprise was enough to make her drop her pistol and step back. I spun on my hooves and gave the mare a hard buck to the head. She dropped without protest, but now my element of surprise was completely gone and I still had two stocky earth ponies to deal with. I was cornered on either side of the table, and it's not like I had anywhere to run, so I braced myself as best as I could for the brawl. The on my right attacked first, driving a hoof into my right side and in turn I slammed my own left leg into his chin. We both stumbled back before the other raider took the opportunity to ram me against the wall. I wheezed out the remainder of corn in my stomach before biting her snout as hard as possible. This got her to wince back enough for me to take another charge at the male raider. Despite his weight, I was able to push him down to the floor with the speed I gathered. Not one to waste a moment, I found my hilt on the floor and slipped it back into the sheath. I now had a weapon, but I also noticed the mare fumbling with something on the ground.

"Oh no you don't." I sliced at her, cutting off most of her lower jaw.

The bones and muscled and burned together around the wound and prevented her from even screaming in pain as the pistol she grabbed fell back down. I stared for a moment at the hideously brownish-red merging of tissues before slashing her again, this time cutting her head straight up the middle. I did a feel a little bad about that one. I turned back to the remaining attacker just in time to dodge another bucking. I took advantage of the gap in his attack to relieve him of his hind legs. He yelled, but I quickly cut him a second time across the neck. Prototype blade or not, I was really starting to love it. I had taken out five raiders single hoofedly and it didn't seem like the rest were any the wiser. I took a moment to catch my breath and look around the room.

The design was relatively the same from what I had seen, steel walls and annoyed lights were so~ in season. Though I will digress and mention that the raiders were already starting to redesign with various 'fluids', piles of excrement and bloodied cages. There were also a few faded posters that seemed to be promoting something with the slogan "Metal! It makes more than better weapons, it makes better ponies!" and a picture of a mare with a prosthetic leg shooting at an unseen enemy. What was on the table really interested me. Mostly it was just a bunch of relays, circuits and power bridges, but in the center was some type of thin mechanical collar with gems wired into it. I had no clue what it was for, but it felt valuable. I decided to make a mental note of this room for later. I just needed to find my things so I would actually have something to carry that crap in. I then noticed that the mare I had bucked was still faintly breathing on the floor next to me. I thought about sparing her for a moment, and then remembered just where I was. If I left her alive it would only be matter of time before she'd be able to contact her friends. I cut clean through her skull and gave her a quick death. I also grabbed the better looking of the two pistols and the extra mag from the worse one. Now I needed a plan. There were two doorways, one back to the hallway and the other to the unknown. I still wasn't a fan of the hallway and decided to see what was beyond the room I was in. The door was locked, and I damn sure didn't have any bobby pins to make use of. I started to dig into the pockets of the dead raiders. I found about thirty caps that I put on the table, some ammo that I left and a few different keys. I tried every key until I found one that fit and the door lifted like a feather.

I definitely recommend seeing what's beyond; it pays off quite well. I found myself right in the center of what seemed to be their armory. There were a good dozen ammo boxes, a few guns and some real saddlebags, not the normal bags I had been using before. I slipped into the saddlebags and started going through every box for what it was worth. Sadly most of the boxes were empty and those that weren't only contained about fifty 10mm rounds, thirty or so shotgun shells that I left and exactly seventeen .50 caliber bullets which I took with glee. Considering I couldn't shoot a shotgun, I doubted I could fire a .50 cal, but I damn sure wasn't going to just leave perfectly good building killing bullets with some raiders. The guns were all beyond me, a big fucking pile shotguns and a few .32 pistols that I did toss into the bags even though I couldn't find ammo for them. I also found a few more of the weird rings, further confirming my theory that they were valuable in some way. The armory didn't give me much, but the extra guns and bullets were nice, though I would've traded half the 10mm bullets for a couple of extra mags. The main advantage was knowing that most of the raiders on that level were probably unarmed and I was between them and their guns.

I left the room, locked the door and attached the key ring to my harness. They weren't getting back in there without my death. I took the tech from the table and stared at the door that led to the hallway. Just me, a fuck-ton of raiders and two twelve round clips. Trying to steel my nerves wasn't really working. I stepped on the pressure plate and the door slid open. Whether I wanted to or not, I was back in the fire. The hallway was still empty and I dashed as fast as possible down it. At the end I came to yet another sliding door on my right side and behind it I could hear the boisterous celebrating of a crowd. It was a shame really; I had always enjoyed a good party and now I had to crash one. I drew the pistol and let the door slide open.

Inside were seventeen raiders drinking, playing pool and in the case of five shameless ones, bucking each other's brains out. At first none of them paid any mind to the newcomer, then I blew the brains out of a raider that had a shotgun. Needless to say that got their attention. Through a sudden onslaught of curses and screams, I took another three shots, two landing in the chests of the ponies closest to me and the other in the belly of one of the *ahem* 'mating' ponies with a hunting rifle. I shot again, but missed the head of the target by a few inches. Now they were all ready for a fight. The remaining four or five with guns started returning fire and I dived back through the doorway, but not without taking one shot to my ever popular flank and another grazing the back of my neck. I turned out and starred at the still open doorway from a few feet away.

"I gotta give you some credit. You raiders don't mess around," I yelled as much as I could through the mouthpiece and shot a pursuing raider in the throat, "but you need to think a little more."

I got another cheap kill on a mare stupid enough to follow after her comrade and got one between the eyes for it. That's when they got smart and I started to feel like a jackass. It started simply enough, one of them peeked quickly with a revolver and we both missed each other by a yard. That was just a precursor though. A minute later after a couple of muffled conversations a double barrel floated through the doorway and stared me down.

"FUCKERS!" I scream and hit the floor while a hail of buckshot flew over my back. I hate unicorns.

I wasted no time and scouted forward to see around the opening. Before they had even noticed me, I popped a unicorn through the jaw and followed with a gut shot to the revolver raider. I flapped my wings to get up and fired twice more, only managing to hit the wall. Then I had a pool cue rammed into my right shoulder, pushing me into a wall. I roared with pain as a bullet soon followed into the same shoulder. I tried for another shot, but my clip was empty.

"Looks like I'm back to the old way." I muttered when I dropped the pistol.

The pool cue broke in half when I was pinched between it and the wall, leaving me free to lunge at the raider who had picked up that fucking revolver. He was cut from mouth to tail within the next five seconds. I regretted that move instantly. I was trapped in a room with eight raiders with nothing but a half baked weapon. I didn't bother turning to face them because I was already surrounded. On the upside, they were being cautious because of my weapon. I did a couple of fake outs to try and keep them on edge, but to be honest I had no clue what to do next. Considering I hadn't been shot at again, I assumed they were all more or less unarmed, but the most I could kill without having to sheathe the blade was two. I spied a familiar annoying revolver on the ground just behind a pair of unicorns. This is literally the definition of a win-win.

I swiped at the legs of the pair at an upward angle, taking only one leg off of the first unicorn, but slicing cleanly through the chest of the second. I dropped the hilt and grabbed the revolver, giving a firm buck to the disfigured raider. I jumped away from the ring with the aid of my wings and turned back to face the group. If they were afraid before, they were terrified now. I shot two of them in the head by the time the remaining four snapped out of it. One picked up the remaining end of the pool cue and stabbed in me, brushing along my left side, I unloaded the last shot of the revolver into his chest before dropping it and taking the pool cue. For once I'd like to hang on to a weapon for more than thirty seconds. I thought and took at stab at an earth pony picking up a hunting rifle from the floor. The wood drove a little bit into his skin, but I was left open for the shot. The bullet flew into the front of my left shoulder and out the other end. I felt my glass bones shatter and cursed my luck.

I jabbed him again, this time in the neck, before dropping the stick. Finally, I took the hilt from the pile of guts under me and dispatched two raiders looking for a weapon on the ground in one sweep through their skulls. The last raider gave me a final buck to my right side that finished breaking apart three ribs. I took great pleasure in killing her afterwards. I quickly killed the few raiders that had survived my initial attacks before they could try to get up. My problem was now that I had broken ribs and a bullet still lodged in my flank. I took a look around and noticed just how lucky I was.

The room was the same Stable-Tec steel, but the raiders had spruced it up with a few old mattresses, a pool table, a dart board, plenty of blood (though that might've been me) and a pretty good supply of apple whiskey. So at least infection wouldn't be a big issue. I hobbled over to the whiskey, drank a whole bottle without blinking, while dosing my wounds with another. Then came the painful part. I found a switchblade on one of the bodies and started doing what I could to dig shrapnel out of my flank. I was doing my best to try and bite through the handle, but I managed to get most of the lead out. I wrapped myself up with some torn rags from the bodies and walked over to where I had dropped my 10mm. I ejected the clip and reloaded it before fitting it back in and holstering it. I pocketed the rest of the alcohol, the caps from the bodies and noticed that all the raiders had the same metal rings combined into their necks. It just kept getting weirder and weirder.

But I didn't try to pry into it. Instead, I faced the only way that I had left to go, up a staircase from the party room. I noticed another poster on the wall just inside the stairwell with a happy looking pink mare and a semi-cheerful pony with metal along his back his legs ("Metal, mares, and parties. It doesn't matter if you were built for war. WE CAN ALL LEARN TO HAVE FUN!"). I tore down the poster; something about the way the eyes stared at me didn't feel right. I ascended for the last time that day and found myself face to face with the raider leader again.

"I guess my boys just weren't enough for you. You had to go and kill all my little followers too." The nameless raider levitated a shotgun next to him.

The room was large, at least 900 square feet, and had a large operating table with various machines all around with an array of saws and probes. A terminal on the opposite wall was giving off a dim pink light behind a large circular desk, but I was more worried about the gun in my face.

"I'm only killing who I have to kill. If you want to stop waving that gun in my face, I'd be glad to just act like I never saw you."

"You really think you're in any position to bargain with me? I'm the one with the gun, I'm the one with the keys outside and I'm the one who's going to kill you." With this he pressed the barrel of the shotgun into my neck. I was sweating bullets at that point.

"Killing me isn't going to solve anything. You kill me and you're still stuck out here alone, and, no offense, but with the way you look there isn't a town within any distance that would take you in. You'll just die here, alone and trying to scavenge the last bit of your life. Let me go and I can convince the next town to let you in. I can get you another chance to be good." I took a couple of steps toward him, pushing the gun aside.

"But what about my sons? What about the raiders you've killed? I'm not going to just let you go."

"That's the thing, you won't have to." He was well within the distance for me to strike and I flew at him with full speed and separated his front legs.

"Ahhh, you fucking bastard!" I quickly cut off his horn to make sure he wouldn't get a cheap shot in.

"No, no, no, you're the fucking bastard here. You thought that you could just keep me down in that hole and then you thought that I just might be willing to right the wrong of killing your sons by giving you a second chance. But you know what's so funny about that?" I leaned next to his ear and whispered softly, "You and your sons are nothing but trash that tried to stand in my way."

He started to yell some jumbled profanity at him, so I cut off his lower jaw, then his left hind leg, then the right, then an ear, and then I finally gave him the coup de grace of decapitation. The whole time he screamed from his mostly closed mouth in pain. I felt nothing for what I did. I meant every word I said, when I cut him and when I killed him. Something just wouldn't click; so I let him die and looted his body. There were seventy-eight caps, thirteen extra shells and two small toy ponies. I pocketed the caps and stared at the tiny toys, each one with a name engraved on it (Buckshot and .308 to dad). That did it. I felt something like sadness. I could see it, two little colts just following their dad as raiders without any real perspective. I understood the dad that just wanted to see his sons grow up to be strong like him. I saw myself in a mirror just across the room, covered in blood and intestines, with my pink mane in a mangled heap and wrapped in rags that were stained with about every bodily fluid imaginable. I stared for a long time, wondering just when I stopped thinking about each kill, wondering when it was automatic. I saw that to them I was a monster and that they were the monsters to me.

I stopped and went back through the Stable to count each pony I had killed and remember how many had died back in town. I wasn't going to lament what I had done, and I was still proud that I had gotten revenge on the ones that had brought me so much pain. I had no problem with the killing, but I didn't want to stop thinking about it. I was proud, but I also gave myself a few rules that day. I was going to stay clean from the filth I encountered so that I wouldn't ever look like a monster again, and I was going to keep track of how many ponies I killed. To that day, it was forty-five.

Footnote: Level Up
New Perk: Scavver- You've got a twinkle in your eye that makes everything look a little nicer. You now scavenge 15% more items than those around you and can sell materials for 10% more than their normal price.

Author's Note

Round 2.