You can’t stop life from happening, that is simply impossible.

Ray was a man of simple ways. He liked to drink, laze about, and make sure his sons were alright. He enjoyed watching the stars at night, dressing with fashion, and wearing some sunglasses his friend got for him.

Ray didn’t really care much for anything but his business, and his children; and his dog of course. He spent most of his time with his kids, and doing work, one of which he enjoyed a lot.

However, with his work, came serious problems. Rivals, enemies, whatever you want to call them, but they would start to pop up, and made business hell for him.

Very much so, when they started trying to hurt his family, which honestly, for Ray, is one of the biggest mistakes a person can make. Ray was never really one to just let something happen, and he could be over zealous when it came to dealing with punks, he enjoyed taking his time with them.

However, after a while, it’ll just catch you off guard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray was sitting on his front porch, enjoying himself as he drank whiskey out of a glass. It was night, and the moon was casting a beautiful light over the fields around his home, the long grass waving back and forth, as though they were dancing in joy, free’d by the wind.

Ray enjoyed the moments like this, the peace of the world around him. It made him feel good, like he wasn’t what he was. These moments were rare, and he took them whenever he got the chance.

The light panting of his dog reached his ears, and he looked over the side of his chair, noticing Scuffy, his black lab, laying there, staring into the distance. Ray chuckled, and sat the glass in front of Scruffy, who began to lap at the drink inside.

Ray smiled, sighing as he sank into his chair, enjoying the feeling of his clothing, the silk shirt and his black dress pants, the material nice and comfortable on his skin. The weight of his silver colored vest was also nice. He closed his eyes, relaxing even further.

Ray had begun to hum, wiggling his fingers as he sat there, thinking about what he’d be doing tomorrow. However, these thoughts were cut short back the sound no one wants to hear. A shotgun pumping.

Ray’s eyes snapped open, Scruffy growling at a man standing on the steps leading onto the porch, aiming a 870 Shotgun at him and Scruffy, causing Ray to tense, his left hand wanting to reach into his vest, his PMM so close, but so far.

“Good afternoon, Ray.” The man said, grinning as he stepped up, onto the porch, and kept the gun trained on them, “I do hope you’ve been having a nice night.” He continued.

Ray only smiled, “It’s nice to see you, Jaime, I can see you’re doing… well.” He said, looking Jaime over. His clothes were tattered and muddied, and his body was shaking, not something you’d want to see from the man pointing a gun at you.

Jaime chuckled loudly, “Yeah… But I came here for something. Your money… I need it.” He said, sweat visible on his face as he shook, from the cold or being nervous, Ray couldn’t tell.

Ray nodded slowly, “I know you do. I’m gonna stand, don’t do anything rash.” Ray said, slowly getting up, and put his hands into the air, smiling warmly at Jaime, “See, we’re all friends here.” Jaime nodded, relaxing slightly, lowering the shotgun every so slight.

“Scruffy! Lunge!” Ray yelled, startling Jaime, as Scruffy lunged at him, Ray reaching into his vest quickly.

A loud bang rang out, startling Ray enough to look up from his vest.

Scruffy hit the ground hard, blood pooling around his old body. Ray pulled out his PMM as he heard the shotgun pump, “You son of a bitch!” Ray yelled, aiming and pulled the trigger.

Two bangs, one thud. Ray slumped against the wall, his body heavy has he fought back tears, “Fu…. God…. God damn it…” He said, feeling the warm liquid running down his leg, the unbearable pain in his stomach. He was scared, the darkness closing in around his vision. It was all so… Surreal.

“Dad?!” He heard one of his sons yelled, bursting through the front door, holding an old Mosin, “Oh my god! Dad!” he looked up, “Hey son…” He said quietly, not able to find a volume for himself. It was getting colder.

“Dad, please! You… You need to stand up!” He heard his son yelled, then the door opened again, “Is every… thing…” He heard his youngest say, “I’ll call 911!” He heard the boy rush back in.

Ray could only smile, his boys loved him so much… Took care of him, despite knowing his wrongs… Good kids.

He grabbed his son's hand, “Take care… of… your brother…” He said, feeling his body going numb, losing all feeling as the darkness took him, “Dad?! Dad no, please!” Was the last thing he heard, before sleeping away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray didn’t know where he was, but it was very cold, and his legs were in what he could only assume was water… Was I thrown in a river? He thought to himself. When he opened his eyes, he found himself blinded by the sun light, cursing, “Hell!”

Rolling over to shield his eyes from the light, he looked around, finding himself… In a river… He sighed, groaning, “Oh god…. My fucking stomach…” He muttered to himself, reach to feel around where it hurt, “Why’re…” He pushed himself to his knees, looking down at his vest and shirt, noticing a large tattered hole where his appendix used to be, a large black bruise and his surgery scar.

He was confused, “The hell caused…” Then he remember last night, “Oh god… I’m dead.. Is this…” he looked around again, “Heaven? I’d figured I’d be in hell… But don’t change that!” he said, thinking maybe God was listening.

A rustling a leaves behind him scared him, making him wheel around, but this caused him to fall onto his back, staring at some bushes… Only for Scruffy to come out of them, “SCRUFFY!” He yelled, opening his arms wide.

The dog slammed into him heavily, causing him to cough, but he didn’t care, “Oh boy… I’d thought I had lost you…” he said, petting Scruffy’s back, sighing.

Eventually, he got up, shaking his legs, trying to ring out the water, “Well… I don’t know where we are… but…” he looked around, seeing something glint in the light not far from him. Walking over, he knelt and picked up his PMM, “I don’t know where I am… But I don’t think God would let guns into Heaven…” he said to himself, Scruffy padding up beside him.

“Let’s follow the river boy, maybe we’ll find a bridge… Or… At least something.” he said, letting out a held sigh, starting to walk, Scruffy following beside him.

Author's Note

Yep, another story I've been wanting to do for a while, but nowhere near as long as This War of Ours. This is a story I came up with with in the last month, and I thought it'd be fun to give it a shot.

Note: I don't hate ponies. Just wanted ya'll to know that.

Good day.