FoE: Out with the Old: Those Who Stayed Behind

"Aronfelt, you need to get your shit together." The caribou spoke to his comrade, who was left blubbering on the floor of the bank.

"F-fuck that. F-fuck that you old shit!" He shivered as he spoke, his eyes unfocused.

"They're using us as fucking food!" He had wrapped himself in the fetal position, shaking like a kicked dog.

"Aronfelt, you have to be quiet, dammit." The bigger one said, trying to pull up the shivering caribou.

"If they are using us as cattle, then we need to leave, right? Luck have it, some more unlucky bastards come along and the cunts leave us alone." He spoke calmly.

"Now put your gas mask on."

-

The pair emerged from the bank, bedrolls and gas masks in tow. Dawn broke upon the ruins, upon the corpses left behind from the battle the night before. A few weapons were strewn on the ground, a few of which they carefully took. The body of their comrade was gone, or among the skeletons stripped bare of meat, they couldn't tell. The copper-scent of blood was thick in the air, enough to make the caribou pick up their pace to escape the smell alone.

"How much ammo do we have left, Vakjel?" Aronfelt asked, looking at the cylinder for his own revolver, with only four bullets left.

"I got about half a mag left. We're not fighting off another swarm." He said, looking at the magazine for his assault rifle before loading it back in.

"I guess we'll have to hope they didn't notice." Aronfelt said blankly, less focused on their discussion and more on looking around for any mare that might've been watching them.

"At least the bitches die as easy as they used to." Vakjel laughed. Aronfelt didn't respond.

• Cheerilie wandered down the road, with at least two dozen mares behind her, each with a toothy grin as they walked down the street, carrying the now wingless stallion with them. Cheerilie convinced the mares holding him to tie a piece of cloth around the stumps where his wings used to be, changing the cloth now and again. The stallion himself had gone pale, and was only getting worse.

It did him no better to see Cheerilie tearing a piece of meat from one of his wings, the other being passed around by the other mares.

A shorter mare followed closely to Cheerilie. She was a unicorn, though a once beautiful horn was sawed off by some caribou in months, perhaps years past, leaving only a chalky stump. She pointed to the stallion and growled out a word to Cheerilie.

"Eat."

Cheerilie stopped, the group doing the same.

"No. Save." She said sternly.

"Why?"

Silence fell upon the group. Even the imprisoned stallion stopped shivering.

"Eat stallion, less sick. Easy." The unicorn spoke, pointing again to the pale pegasus.

Cheerilie didn't respond, eyes glaring forward, slowly moving as if following something.

"TALK!" The unicorn grabbed at Cheerilie.

She stopped when she felt her machete near her neck.

"Prey. Ahead. Eat them." She pointed with her other arm, keeping the mare at bay with a blade pressed against her throat.

All was quiet again for a moment.

Thud.

"Move."

-

Aronfelt breathed as quietly as he could through his gas mask, not wanting to stir any sleeping ponies that may be lurking in the buildings around them. He and Vakjel sneaked as silently as they could on the street out of Ponyville, weapons drawn just in case.

"Vakjel?" Aronfelt spoke up.

"What is it?"

"Is that an earthquake?"

Vakjel turned his head, gasping as he grabbed Aronfelt by his shirt.

"Run. Aronfelt fucking run."

The two caribou broke into a sprint, with at least two dozen mares running after them, snapping teeth and screaming at their prey. One in the front, a dark pink earth pony mare, barked out commands at the others.

"Keep up! Food! Eat!" She screamed, driving the pursuers into a frenzy, letting out shrieking laughter and snarls as they chased the two caribou down the road.

The pegasus stallion, being carried close behind by one of the stronger mares, had shut his eyes tight as he was dragged through the mud. The bouncing had left him in agonizing pain, having made it impossible for him to keep his wounds still. The cloth began to unravel, revealing the dirt-crusted stump that was left of either wing. He kept his yells down to occasional yelps of pain, so as not to annoy his captors into violence.

He submitted, the only thing he could do was wait.

-

The caribou kept running, though tiredness pulled at them, they pressed on, trying to find a route to lose the horde. No matter which way they seemed to turn, their route was blocked, the only path being the main road down which they had already been running, out of Ponyville. The open fields in the distance didn't seem to be a promising hiding spot, and Vakjel racked his mind in search of ideas. Could they try to find a ladder and lose them on the rooftops? They'd be too quick, and one of them would probably be caught if not both. They didn't have any smoke grenades left, and even between the two of them there wasn't enough ammunition to kill off the mares alone.

Another crowd of mares had materialized in front of him, sprinting at them with the same veracity and glee as the ones behind them. The group was smaller, but seemed no less dangerous, the mare in the front wearing what seemed like a fresh pair of antlers around her neck...

"Vakjel! Down here!" Aronfelt yelled, running towards an open alleyway. With no other ideas, Vakjel ran after him, his eyes looking toward a large, upright wooden pallet. In a moment of madness, he stopped for a moment, turning and pushing the wooden pallet down before continuing. It served its purpose well enough, stopping the mares enough for Aronfelt to find a ladder to the top of the building in the alleyway.

The mares were stopped briefly, but soon pushed the barrier to the side, but had just missed their chance, Vakjel taking the ladder and pulling it up quickly before the mares could grab hold. He and Aronfelt removed their gas masks, breathing heavily as they both laid on their backs, facing the sky as sweat beaded from their bodies. The mares below growled and yelled in frustration, but couldn't do much except claw a the side of the building.

Cheerilie stopped the swarm with a loud yell, which caught the caribou's attention. Vakjel stayed where he laid, but Aronfelt's curiosity got the better of him, causing him to crawl on all fours towards the edge of the building.

Cheerilie directed the mares who followed her out of the alleyway, the other swarm also leaving after realizing the futility of pursuing the two any longer. The mare wearing antlers around her neck looked to Cheerilie, then to the stallion in her captivity.

She pointed to the de-winged stallion, and she grinned widely.

"Eat. It." She choked out.

Cheerilie stood still, slowly shaking her head.

The other mare growled, and the mares in her group tensed in anticipation.

"Why!?" She barked out.

Cheerilie smiled, a sick, foreboding smile.

"No need."

She pointed her machete at the other leading mare, who gave a quizzical look. The mares around her smiled as well, slowly drawing their weapons and giggling softly, before Cheerilie uttered a single word.

"Eat."

-

Aronfelt watched in curious fear as the group led by the pink earth pony suddenly charged at the other group, quickly overtaking them.

"Vakjel... Vakjel something weird is happening." He spoke, fear in his voice.

"Aronfelt.." Vakjelt spoke, still catching his breath.

"It doesn't matter."

"Vakjel, mares are killing each other down there..."

Vakjel got up, wordlessly going to the edge of the building next to Aronfelt, watching the scene unfold.

Cheerilie stood still as mares charged past her, causing her messy hair to blow in the air. Her mares rapidly overtook the surprised group, jabbing, slashing, and biting at their new, more plentiful prey with wild abandon. Blood spat out of fresh wounds and metal collided with flesh and bone, but as were most fights with the infected mares, it soon became an indefinable flurry of motion and violence.

The two caribou watched, curious but careful, until the fight ceased, retreating out of view.

The mares below ate at the dead, filling their half-empty stomachs with almost orgasmic glee. Cheerilie herself took a few choice bites from the dead, caring not if it was of her own or the prey. The victory got her in a peculiar mood; the violence, the superiority, the smell...

She felt ecstatic.

As she ate, she let a moan escape her lips, as if the taste of blood got her off. The mares around her were confused, but kept eating. Soon, all that was left was a scattering of bodies, with hunks of flesh missing, and a group of content mares.

The pegasus stallion could only watch, horrified as the infected ate, at least he assumed, their own. He had never seen something like this, even among starving groups, they hardly ever touched each other. Now, before him was a group of mares that had killed others like them, even while he was vulnerable. Why? Why not kill him? Why leave him in this horrid torment? A single word echoed in his mind, leaving him silent.

Punish.

-

Aronfelt and Vakjel waited for a while, peeking at the mares now and again. They noticed the stallion in their care, but thought little of it. He wasn't important to them and they probably couldn't save him anyway, they thought. They simply sat, now and again peeking, until the group left, after carving some cuts of meat from the dead mares before walking westward as dusk set in.

"Let's get the hell out of here, Aronfelt. I don't wanna see that crazy shit again." Vakjel whispered, wasting no time climbing down the ladder and leaving the town, Aronfelt close behind. They wandered east, on the outbound road towards Baltimare, shrouded by the cold and the dark as night covered Equestria, moonlight being their only guide as they carefully followed the road.