Chapters Survivor {[PSYSIM]-ZoAp: A-Line #1}
We lived our lives in fear now. Fear of becoming an undead monster with a never-ending hunger for pony flesh. Fear of being killed by others who've taken survival a bit too far, but where does one draw the line of morality in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Fear controlled the world now. We feared everything, whether it be the flesh-hungry creeps stalking in the night, other ponies just trying to survive or the long, cold winter nights. We still had mother nature to deal with. We feared her too. All of those things were the least of our worries now. We had run out of food and now we faced starvation. It was times like these that you saw what everypony was really capable of.
It was a cold December night. The wind was just shy of harsh and borderline bitter as it howled through the trees. Snow covered everything for as far as we could see. My companion- a dragon named Esmeralda- and I were holed up inside of an old ski lodge as we desperately tried to figure out someplace we could find food and propane for the gas camping stove we had found. We had located a supermart a few miles away in a nearby town. Our only problem was the snow and although the infected were extremely slow and near inactive in the cold, snowy environment, they still posed a threat, especially in high numbers.
"What do you think we should do?" Esmeralda asked, "should we brave the snow and cold or wait it out until morning?"
"If it keeps snowing like this, we won't be able to go outside," I replied "and it's safer to travel at night. Looks like we're just gonna have to suck it up and make it to that supermart."
"Yeah, you're right," Esmeralda said with a sigh "I've got thick scales, so I won't get as cold as quickly as you will. I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to freeze to death."
"I'll be fine, Esmeralda," I said confidently "the faster we move, the less cold we'll be."
"Just like we always are," I said with a grin "well, the majority of the time."
We had seen the infected in groups before, but never once had we seen or heard of the infected gathering into such a large horde. There had to have been at least a hundred or more stumbling and staggering their way towards our camp. Trying to fight them would've been nothing more than a suicide mission, so, instead, we took what we could and ran. Here and there, we had made makeshifts camp and stayed in only in one place until our resources were all but depleted. As we wandered from place to place, we- naturally, of course- lost some of our friends. Some to illnesses like the flu, others to the infection that had been reanimating the dead. Some got lost as we wandered and we never saw them again. As time passed and luck would have it, my group dwindled down to only five- including myself. Being so few of us, we had found it much easier to get by and survive. Fewer ponies meant fewer mouths to feed, less ammo to be distributed and all around meant we could supplies around longer before having to move on again. It was earnestly sad, but in one way or another, we all had been glad and grateful to be alive and we swore the sacrifices our companions had made to keep us alive would not go in vain.
The five of us had wandered into Ponyville one day looking for supplies. To say the least, that had been our gravest mistake, not that we could've known ahead of time that Ponyville was a death trap of psychotic survivors and flesh-craving zombies. Our radios had run out of batteries and that had been our main reason for going to Ponyville. Only a young unicorn mare and I had made it out of Ponyville just barely intact. The young mare had been injured worse than I and it wasn't long after finding shelter just outside of Apple Loosa that she had succumbed to her wounds and died. I had been left on my own at the point and- without my friends- I had no idea what to do. I had doubts that I could survive on my own and quite a few times, I considered the possibility that it could be the end for me too.
The day I had reached my lowest point and could hardly care less if I had lived to see another sunrise had been the day I met Esmeralda. Despite all the death that loomed around every corner and despite the fact the world had ended, she seemed to be so happy and carefree. She had been traveling with a small group of ponies who had graciously taken me in. Being their makeshift doctor, Esmeralda and I had naturally formed a bond as she cared for my wounds. As time went on, I became close to everypony in that little group as we traveled around Equestria searching for supplies and a safe place to live. All great things must come to end had been the lesson I learned after we had been ambushed by another horde of zombies. Our group had been split in half as some of our companions had stayed behind to fight the oncoming horde to allow the rest of to escape. We had just barely managed to wander up north towards the Crystal Empire some days later when more misfortune struck. We had found ourselves severely unequipped for the freezing weather and what little of us remained began to perish to the below freezing temperatures. Snow had nearly been up to the top of our legs but what was left our group managed to find lodging in a small cabin. There had been four of us left at that point- including Esmeralda and I.
The other two members of our little group had wandered out one day to look for more food and wood to keep our fire at camp burning. They never came back and that had left just Esmeralda and I. Sometime later, we had wandered from the little cabin and found the ski lodge we were now holed up inside. Now, we were faced with the problem of absolutely no food, water, and little gas to cook any food with. If it weren't for Esmeralda and that smile she gives that seems to make everything so much better, I doubt I would be here now. For her sake more than anything else, I had made it my goal to keep going- to keep surviving- for as long as I possibly can.
"You'd better put these on so you don't freeze to death," Esmeralda said, snapping me from my thoughts.
"You ready to go, Dosey-Doe?" Esmeralda questioned.
Survivor {[PSYSIM]-ZoAp: A-Line #2}
Freezing wind howled through the bony, hallowed trees. Cold snow swirled all around me like frozen stars twinkling in the sky. Through the thick snow, I trudged, hoping to find some shelter from the cold. The nippy wind whipped my mane, tail, and scarf all around me fiercely. The howling wind blew over my back and saddlebags and into the guitar strapped to my side, which resulted in a faint but strange sound. Ahead of me, I saw the faint outlines of a town. It would seem my luck was finally beginning to turn around. For two days, I've been trudging through the cold- just barely scraping by- looking for someplace safe to finally settle down- to call my own. I had heard on a radio broadcast one day that the zombies hated the cold, that they were slow and near inactive in the below zero temperatures. I knew it was in my best interest to make it up north and the best bet I had at surviving just a bit longer. Of course, I knew winter wouldn't last forever, but- despite the cold- it would give me ample time to find a safe place to hole up in and to completely fortify it. Maybe I could even find a place to secure as a fallback space in case of an emergency. First, though, I had to get out of this cold weather before I froze to death.
Though snow covered most of the sign I now stood before, I could make out the name of the town; Frostfall. Population: 102. Home of the Frozen Falls. I shivered hard as I trudged past the sign and into the town. Snow covered, boarded up houses lined street after street as I trudged through. Not once did I see a single infected as I made my way through town. It felt nice to not have to worry so much about infected anymore up here in the north, but- instinctively- my guard stayed as high as it could in this weather. Zombies weren't the only threat I knew I had to deal with up in the north. Other survivors would- no doubt- come up north for the same reasons as I. That would mean competition- a fight for supplies- but the early bird gets the worm. As far I knew, the news of zombies and their weakness against I had heard had been very recent, which- for me, hopefully- meant next to no ponies to compete with up here.
I blew out a steamy breath into the frigid air as I trudged past an abandoned car and into the parking lot of a small convenience store. I hoped there'd still be some food left inside and perhaps some wood to make a fire to warm myself with. With a shiver- and a few failed attempts- I pried the door open and slipped inside. I closed the door and almost immediately, I became less cold than I was before. There was still a bit of warmth left inside the convenience store but a fire was needed to thaw me out completely. I searched the store any food or drink that might've been left. All I found were a few candy bars, Planet Pies*, some small boxes of cereal, a loaf of bread, a box of hay and a case of water. I took what I could carry and continued to look around the store.
As I looked around the store, I found a lighter and some brooms and mops with wooden handles along with a roll of receipt paper. I wandered into the bathroom with the brooms and mops and break the handles off into sizeable pieces for a fire. Tearing some pieces of receipt paper off the roll and placing them in the pile of wooden handles, I used the lighter to start the fire. Within minutes, every inch of cold was melted off of my body. I stood and trotted to the bathroom window and opened it, knowing it wasn't particularly safe to light a fire with no ventilation. I returned to my place by the fire and sat down. I unstrapped my guitar off my back and strummed the strings. After briefly tuning it, I started to play 'This Little Light Of Mine' .
About halfway through the song, I heard the bell on door ding, which indicated somepony else was entering the store. As quickly as I could, I sat the guitar down and put the fire out with a bottle of water. I hid my guitar in one of the stalls of the bathroom and drew my machete from my bag. I had a pistol, but I only had half a clip left. I heard low voices coming from the front of the store. One sounded male, the other sounded female. I waited quietly behind the bathroom door all the while listening the best I could to the two strangers shuffling around the store.
"I heard something back this way," The female voice whispered, "I'm gonna check it out, make sure it's not a zombie."
"Alright, just be careful," The male voice whispered back.
Slowly and cautiously, I heard the female stranger come closer and closer to the mare's room. After what felt like an eternity, the female stranger finally entered the mare's room- unaware of me hiding behind the door. I peeked around the door to see a female dragon with emerald green and ruby tipped scales checking out the room. The webs of her wings were ruby-colored as were the spikes going from the tip of her to the end of her tail, which ended with an also ruby-colored feather-like webbing. Ivory horns spiraled from either side of her head and pointed sharply towards the back of her head.
I watched as the female dragon scouted out the bathroom stalls one by one. She opened the rightmost stall and pulled out my guitar. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she strummed the cords once.
"Score!" The female dragon exclaimed in a half-whisper, "definitely keeping this."
"Hell no, you aren't!" I exclaimed as I jumped out from behind the door "that's my guitar!"
"What the- Where'd you come from?!" The female dragon exclaimed.
"Not that it's any of your concern, but I just got here a little while ago to get out of the storm," I said sternly "and that's my guitar. I hid it so it wouldn't get damaged in case I had to fight somepony."
"Well, I'm not looking for a fight," The female dragon said as she held my guitar out to me "we're just looking for some food. We were gonna hit up a supermart but the storm got worse, so we decided to hole up here for the time being."
"I'm not looking for a fight either," I said as I took my guitar and sheathed my machete "who are you?"
"I'm Esmeralda," The female dragon said with a smile "it's nice to meet you."
Before I could introduce myself to Esmeralda, a stallion with a cream-colored coat, a solid creamy-yellow mane and tail, and dark blue eyes trotted into the room. The stallion looked at me with an expression of both shock and relief. After a moment, I understood why.
"Dosey-Doe?" I questioned.
"Yeah, it's me," The stallion answered, "is that really you, BR?"
"It is, yeah," I said with a smile "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Double D."
"I didn't think I'd see you ever again either," Dosey- Doe said with a sad smile "not after you had gotten separated from us and we couldn't find you."
"It was hard on my own, but, I managed," I said as I hugged him "It's good to see that you're okay, but, uh, where are the others?"
"We're the only two left in our group- our old group- that I know of, at least," Dosey-Doe said sadly "if it weren't Esmeralda, I wouldn't be here."
I pulled away from our embrace and looked at Esmeralda with a grateful smile on my face.
"Thanks for taking care of Dosey-Doe," I said "he was my best friend until I got separated from him and the others. He still is, actually."
"It's been no problem at all. He's great company," Esmeralda said happily, "Dosey said your name was, uh, BR? Does BR stand for something?"
"My full name is Blue-Raspberry Surprise, but you can just call me BR for short," I said "or Raspy, Blue, Surprise or whatever other nicknames you can think of. The old group I was in with Double D, they gave me a bunch of different nicknames."
"Oh, that's a lovely name," Esmeralda said, "would you like to join our little group?"
"I'd love too," I said happily "it's better to have somepony to watch your back than wander alone."
Author's Note
*My made-up version of Moon Pies because, well, Moon Pies are obviously delicious.
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A Bullet To The Skull {[PSYSIM]-NuAp: B-Line #1}
Typical Bullet. The slightest hint of a firefight sends him skittering underneath the nearest rock, leaving me to fight our attackers by myself. But once it's over, he skitters out and swoops in like a buzzard to collect the leftovers. As I scoured the pockets of the now dead raiders that had attacked us, I noticed my companion had failed to return. I found myself unsurprised as I figured Bullet had fallen asleep beneath the safety of whatever rock he had crawled under. The air around me was heavy with silence as I added ammunition, healing potions, caps and other items to my inventory.
"Skull! You'll never guess what I just found!" A familiar voice called out. I turned around to see my companion galloping up to me with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.
"While you were kicking some ass, I found somepony's hidden loot stash," He said with a giddy laugh as he tossed me a weathered bag, "I think those raiders were after it. The stuff inside looks pretty important. Or should I say valuable?"
I opened the bag and examined the contents. Inside were several Dash inhalers, bottles of Buck and tins of Mint-als, as well as some Stampede. There were also a few healing potions, magical potions, RadSafe and RadAway. There was a slip of paper tucked between two tins of Mint-als. I pulled it out and put the bag on the ground. I opened the slip of paper and read its contents:
"If you're reading this, it must mean you assholes actually lived to see another day and followed directions. Somehow you idiots can read, but luckily you're stupid enough to not how to write. So, just because I know how you losers are, I wrote down the contents of the bag (see the list below) and how much of everything there is so you can't come after me and say I didn't give you all the I owed. If you're reading this and you aren't Slasher or Dice, today is your lucky day, and mine too hopefully. If you have this bag, it must mean Slasher and Dice are dead or have totally forgotten about it. If you ever come across those two miserable, pathetic low-lives, put a bullet between their eyes for me.
-Dash inhalers x12
-Buck bottles x9
-Mint-als tins x9
-Stampede x4
-Magical bandages x10
-Healing potions x10
-RadSafe x8
-RadAway x8
-Caps x500 "
"What did that piece of paper say?" Bullet asked.
"I might have taken just a small portion of it," He said, giving me a nervous grin and chuckle.
"Hehe, or maybe it was more like... all of it." He said as he rubbed the back of his head. Typical Bullet, again. There's no stopping him when he sees something he wants, even if I tell him to leave it be. One stern look completely changes his mind, though.
"You're kidding right, Skull? For the love of Luna, please tell me you're kidding!" Bullet protested "As much as I hate to say it, we can sell the Stampede, Dash, and Mint-als. Even some of the Buck! But the potions, RadAway, and caps?? We can't get rid of that!"
"I know, I know: 'There's always another wastelander in need somewhere. Their needs come before our own, and it's our duty to help them in any way we can' ," Bullet recited in a mocking tone "I don't know why I'm complaining, I should be used it to by now. But sometimes we could really use the stuff we earn or find. Sure, it's good to help those who can't help themselves, but has it ever crossed your mind that we can't help everypony living in the wastes?"
"Bullet..." I sighed, finding myself at a loss for words.
"If it makes you feel better, we'll keep the potions, bandages, RadSafe, RadAway, caps and a few bottles of Buck," I said as I followed after him "we'll sell the rest and buy the upgrades for my saddle gun. I'll even buy you a better sniper rifle if I can find one. How does that sound?"
"Sounds great to me, boss," Bullet said. As we walked through the barren wasteland, my mind began to wander to when Bullet and I first met.
It happened about two years ago after I wandered the Equestrian wasteland with a group called the Knights of Iron Glory that had been reduced to corpses and after I lost my husband. The Knights of Iron Glory had been primarily made of ponies, but there had been quite a few griffons too. The other griffons and I were the heavies. Covered beak to tail in heavy improvised armor and equipped with the finest of saddle guns, we charged into battle and put a big dent in enemy numbers, then backed off and let the Cavalry do their thing. The Knights' biggest enemy were slavers. Our number one enemy had been this slaver group under the command of a stallion named JerEcho Blues. Our leader, an alicorn mare named Serendipity, had been mortal enemies with JerEcho long before she founded the Knights of Iron Glory (I had later learned JerEcho and Serendipity were siblings).
I had proudly been a part of the Knights for seven years. I fought alongside some of the bravest, fiercest and kind-hearted griffons and ponies the Wasteland had ever known. Serendipity had been the one group member I admired the most. She had been the bravest, toughest and most kind-hearted out of us all. No matter how much it would set her back, Serendipity had always gone out of her way and beyond to help any wastelander she could. No leader is without their second in command, and no one out of the rest of the Knights had fit the job better than Kimono. Though she preferred to stay on and lead from the sidelines, Kimono had been almost as good of a fighter as Serendipity had been, and just like our leader, she had a big heart. Everypony who had been a part of the Knights of Iron Glory were loyal, but I strongly believed that during her lifetime, nopony had been more loyal to Serendipity than Kimono.
When I had first joined the Knights of Iron Glory, my mentor had been a griffon named Blackjaw. My mentor soon became my closest friend, and the one I trusted more than anypony else in the Knights of Iron Glory. Blackjaw was an older griffon, hardened by years of fighting. Blackjaw had been the commander of the Griffon Squadron. Another griffon named Cutthroat had been both her second in command and her husband. Cutthroat had been nowhere near as kind as his wife. Everypony had viewed him as a huge asshole, even Serendipity. More often than not, Blackjaw covered for him and his awful attitude, and almost always had apologized for it. Nevertheless, Cutthroat was a valued member of the Knights of Iron Glory and one of the best fighters in the Griffon Squadron.
After my second year of being a part of the Knights of Iron Glory, I had begun seeing a unicorn stallion named Maximus. He had been such a gentlecolt. Though not rare in the Knights of Iron Glory, gentlecolts were extremely hard to come by in other places of the Wasteland. Maximus would always come and visit me after training, and would often accompany me during breakfast, lunch, and dinner despite the fact the Griffon Squadron ate separately from and at different times than the Cavalry. The Squadron hadn't been forced to eat separately, it was more so that we had chosen to do so.
Maximus and I had been together until his untimely death. About a year and a half before his death, he had proposed to me and asked me to marry him. I had said yes, and one month later, we had our wedding. It hadn't been like the weddings depicted in a few of the Prewar books we had salvaged, but it was still something special. Our wedding day had been one of the best days of my life.
Two months later, JerEcho's army had launched a surprise on our headquarters stationed southeast of Neighagra Falls at the junction of Manehatten and Fillydelphia. We had lost a fourth of the Cavalry and Griffon Squadron in the initial attack. Blackjaw had been a part of those who died from the initial attack. After the initial attack, JerEcho's army had swarmed and overran our headquarters. We had tried our best to take back the place we called our home, but after losing another two-fourths of the Calvary and another fourth of the Griffon Squadron, the remaining members of the Knights of Iron Glory fled north into the mountains. A great deal of us had been wounded. Serendipity, Kimono and a few others had made desperate attempts to save our wounded, but many of them passed on within an hour after fleeing.
After holding a mass funeral for our dead, the remaining Knights of Iron Glory had headed deeper into the mountains. Serendipity had been broken at this point. She had tried to hide it, but we could all see it. We were all broken, though. We had lost those we called family, lost those we shared both good and bad times with, those we had cared deeply about. Blackjaw's death had been what really shattered me, and the deaths of those who I had been proud to call my family had been like pouring salt into a wound. As we hid away in the mountains, I had been grateful that Maximus was still alive and with me.
Four weeks had passed and we had still been hiding in the mountains, hoping and praying JerEcho would back off or get bored with us and go back to whatever cesspool he crawled out from. Another week had passed, then another and another and another, and eventually, we had been hiding for about three months. At that point, we had assumed JerEcho had gotten bored with us and let us be. We had gotten used to living in the mountains and enjoyed our lives up there. The Knights of Iron Glory had not yet fallen.
Another four months passed, further solidating our assumptions about JerEcho. Time had healed our broken spirits. We still mourned our dead, but we had long since learned to move on. I had felt bad for Cutthroat. After we moved to the mountains, nopony could get him to speak a word and he hardly ate, but after a while, he seemed to get better. Maximus and I had often checked on him. From time to time, we had occasionally stayed the night and kept him company.
Our peace and quiet had lasted one month longer. Our scouts reported to Serendipity that JerEcho and his army of slavers were marching up the mountain. Serendipity and Kimono prepared us for what would probably be our final battle with JerEcho. With the Knights of Iron Glory being holed up in the mountains for so long, we had felt like had the advantage, so when JerEcho finally arrived, we were ready.
As he approached our camp, JerEcho had demanded that we stand down. He had wanted to talk to his older sister. Guarded by Kimono and two other members of the Cavalry, Serendipity had agreed to talk to JerEcho.
"Surrender, and I promise you that you and your little ragtag group of weary soldiers will live to see another day. Several, several hard working days, in fact," JerEcho had said to Serendipity with a disgusting smug grin spread across his face.
"The Knights of Iron Glory will NEVER surrender to the likes of you, Echo Blues," Serendipity had said with a bold, determined look plastered to her face.
"It's JerEcho Blues now, dear sister. The Jer makes it better," He had sneered "and I do believe you want to rethink your statement, Serendipity."
"No. I said what I meant, JerEcho, and I meant what I said," Serendipity had sneered back "you leave me no choice, brother... Knights, attack!!"
Within moments, JerEcho's army and the Knights of Iron Glory had been neck and neck in a final battle. At first, it had seemed we truly did have an advantage over JerEcho and his army, but slowly we had realized that the Knights of Iron Glory would not come out on top. JerEcho had seemed to be several steps ahead of us. An hour passed, and the Knights were down from thirty Cavalry to nine and twenty-five Griffon Squadron to six. Serendipity and Kimono had still been alive at that point. Maximus and Cutthroat had been too. Then it happened. Our greatest enemy attacked us with his greatest weapon. One hit from a Balefire Egg Launcher, and Maximus, Serendipity, Kimono, two other griffons and I were all that had remained of the Knights of Iron Glory.
Maximus, Kimono and one of the other griffons had been badly injured from the attack. Serendipity did what she could for them while the other griffon and I held off JerEcho's army. At that point, we had retreated into the forest and used the trees as cover. Maximus had been safely out of harm's way on my back. His warm body had clung to mine tightly. I remembered feeling his blood stain and seep into the feathers of my neck and the fur of my lower back. Serendipity had carried Kimono on her back too. The other griffon had followed our lead and carried the other remaining one on her back as well.
I remembered shouting over the gunfire to my husband that he would be okay, that we would make it out alive. That would soon only be true for me. JerEcho himself had now charged at us. Behind him were a few melee fighters armed with machetes, crowbars and barbed wire bats. JerEcho had armed himself with an electric, serrated sword with the skull of some poor bird mantled onto the handle for decoration. He and Serendipity exchanged a few foul words before both leaders ordered another attack. I had watched as the majority of the fighters went after the other two griffons, and more had joined the fight. I remembered my injured husband making feeble attempts to help me fight off our attackers.
I remembered at some point during the forest fight, Serendipity and I had begun to fight side by side. It had felt like an honor to do so, despite the fact that we both were more than likely to face death soon. I remembered Serendipity's final words as clear as day;
"Take Kimono and get the three of you to safety as quickly as you can, Skull," She had said "do not forget what happened here today, or months ago when we were first attacked. Do not forget those we have lost to JerEcho. Do not forget me, but most importantly, Skull, do not forget the Knights of Iron Glory, our values, and beliefs. Now go! I'll hold them off for as long as I can!"
With that, I had Kimono placed on my back. I had used my wings to keep them both in place as I took off as fast I could away from the battle, away from Serendipity. I remembered stopping and looking back at Serendipity as she fought bravely to keep JerEcho and his army away as I fled. I had watched her fight until her final moment when her own flesh and blood separated her head from the rest of her body.
I remembered turning and continuing to flee from JerEcho the moment Serendipity's head had left her body. There had been nothing different about losing another comrade, but something about Serendipity's death had made me want to stop and hurl every ounce of vial I had in my stomach onto the forest floor, then fall over, curl into a ball, sob and give up. If it had not been for the fact that I was being chased by ruthless slavers and that I had both my injured husband and the Knights' second in command on my back, I probably would've done so. I remembered going as fast as I could away from JerEcho, and for a long while I had been able to hear the shouts and cheers of JerEcho and his slavers. It wasn't until I had cleared the forest and exited the mountains and had crossed the tracks that I no longer heard JerEcho and his army.
I remembered I had kept running as fast as I could manage with a heavy saddle gun and two full grown unconscious ponies on my back, not once stopping to take a break and catch my breath. It wasn't until I had reached a small make-shift town a few miles outside of Fillydelphia that I had stopped running. I remembered I had collapsed from exhaustion and my injuries just outside of the little town. A few ponies had rushed over to me and my companions and brought us inside one of their shacks. Their local doctor made an attempt to examine me first, but I had insisted until I was blue in the face that Maximus and Kimono needed to be treated as soon as possible. The doctor had done what she could for my husband and Kimono then tended to me.
After a few days of rest, I had been feeling back to normal, aside from the slight limp in my left back leg I now had. Maximus and Kimono had seemed to be getting better as well. A few weeks had passed, and it had seemed as if both Kimono and my husband were going to survive. I was told by the doctor the little town I had brought us to was called Cloverfield. It had been a quiet place and was only populated by about 20 ponies.
During my stay in Cloverfield, I had spent most of my time with the doctor and by my husband's side. Kimono's health had made a turn for the worst due to an underlying infection she had contracted after being injured by the blast caused by Balefire Egg. Within a few days of the infection setting in, Kimono had succumbed to it and passed away in her sleep. The doctor had helped me give her a proper burial just outside of the town. I had started losing hope after Kimono's death and had begun thinking that my husband would too soon pass away and leave me to be the last Knight of the Knights of Iron Glory.
Eventually, Maximus and I had ended up being in Cloverfield for about three and half months. My husband had a full recovery, only losing his right foreleg to a life-saving amputation, half his left back leg and leaving the right half of his face a bit disfigured from the battle with JerEcho. Once he had grown accustomed to the prosthetics the local blacksmith had made, Maximus and I left Cloverfield and set out to find recruits to join what was left of the Knights of Iron Glory.
Seven months passed, and Maximus and I had yet to find a single recruit. It seemed everypony was mostly concerned for themselves or whatever group they had already belonged to. We had met some nice ponyfolk residing in a place they called New Appleloosa. After hearing our story, a few had told us they would consider joining, but by the time we had left to visit other places, they had backed out.
Maximus and I had been doing well after leaving New Appleloosa. We had come to an agreement that we would remain the last members of the Knights of Iron Glory and find a place to settle and call home. Eventually, we had come to a small town called Ponyville. At first glance, it seemed quiet and empty, but we had quickly found out that was not the case. Raiders ambushed Maximus and I after we had passed by a large oak tree in the town. Raiders were nothing new to Maximus and I- and this particular group of raiders seemed to be the dumbest and most poorly coordinated bunch we had ever seen. The battle between us and those raiders seemed like it would be a short one, and we hadn't been proven wrong in any regards.
One grenade changed the entire tide of the battle, however. One grenade was all it had taken to take my husband from me. I remembered watching in horror as the shrapnel shredded my husband to pieces. I remembered watching his body hit the ground and hearing the raiders laugh and cheer. I remembered standing there, staring in horror and shock at my deceased husband. It wasn't until after a few bullets had found new homes inside me that my fight or flight instincts kicked in again. I remembered leaving my husband's corpse there for those raiders to plunder as I took to the sky and fled. I hated myself for leaving it behind.
I remembered roaming the wasteland for days after Maximus' death, still injured. That was when I finally met Bullet and owed him my life. He had found me shortly after I had begun to succumb to my wounds, collapsed on the ground in the middle of nowhere and bleeding out.
"Damn. You look you've been through hell. Here, drink this while I wrap your wounds." Those had been his first words to me. I remembered watching him wrap my bullet wounds with normal bandages while I chugged down a healing potion, and thanking him afterward. Bullet had made a make-shift camp and stayed by my side until I gained enough strength to walk again. During that time, he had told me about himself.
"Been a raider for my entire life up until a couple months ago," He had said with a slight country accent "guess you could say I was born and raised in the raider way life. My raider mother had been an alcohol and drug abuser for most of her life and she was near as useless as my father, who had been a horny sack of shit. Knocked up every mare he laid eyes on. He and my mother had sex and nine months later had me. If I hadn't had the change of heart I had a couple months ago, I would've ended up like them: dead."
"What made you change your mind?" I had asked him.
"Foals," He had replied "I had never seen or attacked a foal in my lifetime. When the raider party me and parents were a part of attacked this little town near Filly, I was tasked to round up all the foals, execute the weak ones and take the stronger ones with us when we left. While they slaughtered the townsfolk and plundered their houses, I found the foals holed up in a shack with the town's doctor. I busted the door down and trotted in, prepared to do as I was ordered.
I had my pistol out and ready to complete my task, but once I saw the petrified looks on the faces of those foals, I knew I couldn't bring myself to kill them. So, I let them go. I covered for them as they made their escape from the town. Told the gang's boss that they were nowhere to be found, that they must've bailed as soon as we attacked. He was pissed but didn't bother to make an attempt to go after them. I stayed behind, telling them I would catch up once I 'located where the foals went', but I never returned to them. After that, I decided I would help folks if I could instead of hurting them. I tried to find the doctor and foals too, hoping that I could lead them away from the gang's territory, but had no such luck."
"Did you catch the name of the town?" I had asked him.
"You helped kill those nice ponyfolk?" I had asked.
"No, I didn't harm a single pony from that town. Like I told you, miss, I was tasked with rounding up the kids. I was supposed to kill some of the children, and like I told you, I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I helped them escape and covered for them," He had replied "why? You knew those ponies?"
"Stayed there for almost four months with my husband," I had told him "the doctor did what she could for our companion Kimono, who unfortunately passed a few weeks after our arrival. My husband and I recovered from our injuries, though his were more serious than mine. We left when he was used to his new artificial limbs."
"Oh, damn. What brought Y'all to that quiet little town?" He had asked. I remembered giving him a quick summary of my past, the Knights of Iron Glory, our beef with JerEcho Blues, and how Maximus and I became the last Knights.
"Damn..." That had been all he was able to say. We had sat in silence a for a long while.
"Ahem... Well, this usually when I bid farewell to the folks I come across and help," He had said, breaking the silence "but I think it's time I stop wanderin' alone and get myself a companion. We pretty much have the same life goals... so... partners?"
"Partners," I had said, shaking his hoof. From that day on, Bullet and I had stuck together. Despite his candid goal of wanting to do good, Bullet had retained some aspects of his former raider life, like lying and wanting to keep everything shiny and valuable. But the more we had traveled together, the more I was able to bring those aspects down to a minimum.
"Hello? You there, Skull?" Bullet asked, snapping me back to reality "don't tell me you snuck some chems while I wasn't looking."
"I'm here, sorry," I replied, "I was preoccupied with my thoughts, and no, I didn't touch the chems."
"Some of it, yeah, but not in the way you're implying," I replied, "I was just recalling how we met and what had led up to that point was all."
"You seem to think about that a lot," Bullet said, "especially here lately."
"I can imagine how horrible it was to watch your friends and husband die, but try to move on, Skull," Bullet said, "it's best not to dwell on the past."
"Yeah, you're right," I said.
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A Bullet To The Skull {[PSYSIM]-NuAp: B-Line #2}
"At this rate, we'll reach Baltimare twenty years from now! Faster, you worthless pieces of shit, faster!!" Our master- a unicorn mare named Blaq Tar- shouted as she cracked the whip loudly above our heads. The other slaves did as they were told and trotted faster. Aside from the sound of the chains rattling, hooves trotting against the barren wastes, cracks from my Blaq's whip and occasional screams coming from the rear, everything was quiet as we traveled toward the coastal city of Baltimare.
"Daisy, come here," Blaq Tar said. I stood and walked across the platform to my master, but the chains bound to my neck and ankles only allowed me to go so far towards her. She sat there with a bored expression on her face and her head propped up on her hoof.
"Yes, master? How can I be of service?" I questioned with forced yet genuine politeness.
"I heard her screaming, master. I'll go and check, but I'm positive it's contractions again," I said, "oh, uh, master, could you could remove my chains first so I may go?"
"Ah, yes. 'Bout forgot," Tar said, pulling out a key attached to a necklace from behind the collar of her shirt and removing it. She sat there for a moment and watched herself twirl the key around her hoof as if rubbing in the fact that I was enslaved and she was not before getting up and trotting over to me. Blaq Tar slipped the key into the lock of the chain around my neck and unlocked it. The collar immediately popped open and fell onto the floor. I watched as the rest of my binds popped off and fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
"There. Now hurry on and check on my wife," Blaq Tar said as she slipped the key back around her neck, "I love her to death, but her screaming to the high heavens is getting on my nerves."
"Yes, master," I said, watching her return to her chair. I trotted to the edge of the large platform, jumped down on the hot wasteland sand and proceeded to make my way to the separate platform being carried behind Blaq Tar's. I climbed onto the platform and entered the tent in the center. Blaq Tar's wife sat laid back in a chair close to a vanity inside the tent. Four other slaves, one of them being a young filly, tended to her every need.
"Ugh! Thank Celestia you're finally here, doctor," Blaq Tar's wife, Bomb-Tastic, groaned "my body has decided to give this lil' piece of shit an eviction notice."
"Would you like some painkillers, Mistress?" I asked.
"Will one of you go fix a bucket of cool water and find a rag? And can somepony go see if Master Tar would like to be present for the birth?" I questioned my fellow slaves.
"I'll go fetch Master Tar," A soft-spoken, blonde-haired unicorn mare replied. The filly trotted away with the handle of a rusted metal bucket clamped between her teeth. While we waited for either slave to return, the remaining two helped me move Bomb-Tastic from the chair to her makeshift bed and helped me with other preparations. The young filly trotted into the tent with a bucket full of water and a rag draped across her muzzle. Soon after, the blonde-haired slaved returned with Blaq Tar and the delivery of her child began.
Sometime later, as the sun began to set, a healthy filly was born into the wasteland. After tending to the baby, I was dismissed from the tent. I returned to my place on Master Tar's platform and sat down. One of Tar's slavers approached me and chained me to the platform. Idle chatter was exchanged between us as he worked. I watched the slaver walk away when he had finished. He wore makeshift armor and carried a pistol on his side. The setting sun seemed to make his golden mane glow.
Most wastelanders assume all slavers are horrific monsters and treat their slaves like shit. In most cases, those assumptions would be correct. For the past year, I have been enslaved to as many slavers a gun clip can hold. The majority of my previous owners and those working for them had been just that; monsters. However, a few of my previous owners had been a few steps short of 'monster' and treated me and other slavers with a bit more respect than most others.
Blaq Tar bought me three and a half months ago from my previous owner, a unicorn named Moise, at a makeshift slave auction just a few miles north of Los Pegasus. Blaq Tar only owns a few slaves personally, me being one of them. The rest, in her eyes, are simply cargo she herds across the wasteland and sells at various slave auctions. Just like any other slaver in the wasteland, Blaq Tar is loud, strict and short-fused. But unlike any other slaver, Blaq Tar, for the most part, treats her slaves with respect, so long as she's in a good mood and they do as told.
Her significant other, on the contrary, isn't as respectful and kind to us slaves as she is. Bomb-Tastic is more or less like any other slaver, loud, obnoxious, crude and rude, and has an even shorter fuse (no pun intended) than Blaq Tar does. But thankfully, Blaq Tar keeps her in check and gets on her case whenever she's disrespectful towards us. Not long after starting our journey to Baltimare, I had gone up to Blaq Tar and asked her why she had been so kind to us slaves.
"I won't lie to you, Daisy," Tar had said "I'm not nice to you lot just for shits and giggles. The only reason I treat you and the others the way I do is so that none of you run away."
"As if," Bomb-Tastic had butted in "Blaq-y here actually gives a fuck about you and our other slaves. She's rather attached to you lot. It's such an inconvenience, especially considering someday, we'll sell you all."
"Don't listen to her, Daisy, the pregnancy hormones have her brain in a knot," Tar had said "a runaway slave means one less slave to sell unless they're recaptured. But do you know what one less slave to sell means, Daisy?"
"Uh, fewer caps that you will earn?" I replied.
"Don't forget about our slaves~" Bomb-Tastic had snickered. Blaq Tar and Bomb-Tastic had then proceeded to argue.
Before becoming a slave, I had lived a normal life in a small, quiet town a few miles outside of Fillydelphia. The town had been called Cloverfield before a group of raiders ambushed, pillaged and burned it down to the ground. The occasional traveler had wandered into town, stocking up on supplies, trading and things of the like before wandering into Filly. Most of them had stopped by my office to purchase medical supplies, a few had needed to be patched up. Before becoming a slave, I even had my own name, one given to me by my parents. Sew-And-So. Now, however, I was only a slave named Daisy.
Being a quiet town, nothing exciting had really ever happened in Cloverfield. Raider attacks had been a surprisingly rare occurrence and slavers had never passed that way to get to Fillydelphia. One day, a group of badly injured travelers had found Cloverfield and two out of the three stayed for a little over three months. However, one of them, a mare, had passed away a few weeks after their arrival. The other two, a female griffon and a stallion, recovered and left Cloverfield. During their stay, the griffon- who called herself Skull- and I had become rather close since she spent most of her time by the stallion's side in my office. Skull's upper half was grey while the rest of her was a rusty red color. Her beak and claws were the typical yellow, her eyes were blue and the tips of the feathers on her head and the area around her eyes were a light red color. I had soon learned the three of them were the last of their group called the Knights of Iron Glory and the ordeal they had been through.
Months after they had left, Cloverfield had been attacked, ambushed rather, a group of raiders. The children living in Cloverfield and I had been locked in my office, hiding behind a makeshift fort made of tables and chairs. Outside, we had heard our neighbors, loved ones, and friends being slaughtered and the cackles and howls from the raiders. One raider- a pegasus- had broken down the door and found us huddled in the corner. He had green eyes, green messy hair, and an orange coat. I had taken a protect stance at the point over the children, ready for that raider to attack us, but he had just stood there, staring. Eventually, he had spoken, telling us to leave out the back window and that he would cover for us. As surprising as we had found it, the children and I did not hesitate to take the opportunity to escape unscathed.
We fled through the window and out into the wasteland, never once looking back. Over time, the children and I had slowly became separated. They had either been taken in by caring wasteland families or had succumbed to the terrors lying in wait. Eventually, I had ended up wandering the wastes alone, occasionally stumbling across others needing my help.
A month before becoming a slave to a stallion named Blue Mane, I had stumbled across a ragtag group of wasteland adventurers. We traveled the wastes doing odd end jobs here and there. Everything had seemed to be going well for us for the longest time, that was until we had found ourselves in the middle of a slaver-raider rivalry. The raiders had killed our leader, a male zebra named Rizt, and taken the rest of us hostage. We had stayed captive at their camp for what had felt like an eternity until they eventually sold us to slavers for food and caps. That day, I had become a slave. In the past, I've had some shitty days, but that day, in particular, had been the worst of them all.
Snapped from my thoughts by the sound of gunfire, I'm forced to watch from my binds on the platform as blood suddenly erupts from the heads of two slavers. A few slavers abandoned their posts in order to find and eliminate our attacker. Somepony shouted that a sniper was attacking, but from where, nopony knew. Blaq Tar ordered more slavers to find the attacker and kill them. Just as they stepped over the hill ahead of us- their weapons drawn and ready- we watched as they were ripped to shred by bullets from we could only assume to be a minigun. Panic swept over us slaves as we tried to run and hide, but our shackles kept us from going very far. Most of the slaves who had been pulling the platform along simply dropped to the ground and covered their heads. The rest of us stood there trembling hopelessly in our chains as we watched more and more of Tar's slavers die.
As I stood there cowering on Tar's platform unable to run or hide, the chains binding me to the platform snapped suddenly. Instinctively, I attempted to bolt away and find cover, but instead, something grabbed ahold of my tail and yanked me backward. My body is forced to spin around and face the source preventing me from running away. Blaq Tar's muzzle came inches from my own as she gently shoved a soft, wrapped bundle into my chest. I looked down to see the cute, sleeping of an innocent little baby.
"No matter what happens, you keep this baby safe," Blaq Tar said as she gave me a small saddlebag, a makeshift baby carrier, and a revolver.
"Y-yes ma'am," I said nervously.
"Listen, this'll be the last time we'll see each other," Blaq Tar said "with the way things are going now, I know my guys and I won't win this fight, and all you slaves will go free. I just want you to know, Daisy, that I genuinely respected and cared for you. Those others slaves, I could honestly care less if they happened to die or not in the crossfire, but you- on the other hoof- I care if you die. I care if you live and if you don't run now, you won't at all. So go, take care of my baby and keep her safe."
"I won't let you down, Master Tar," I said "good luck."
Dark Harvest {[PSYSIM]-SeKi: C-Line}
Dark Harvest {[PSYSIM]-SeKi: C-Line}
A small, psychotic giggle slipped from lips as I pulled my knife out of the chest of a mare who know laid lifeless on the cold stone ground beneath me. Sliced open from chest to crotch, the mare's splendid organs- coated in a crimson red- shone brilliantly in the moonlight and added to the deep luster of the cobblestone street. I licked the serrated blade I held in my hoof and savored every drop of metallic, piquant goodness that was the mare's blood. Mildly satisfied, I sheathed my knife and used my yellow-orange magic to remove the mare's organs from her body and place them neatly inside of the cooler I had dragged around with me throughout the night. I wiped my hoof across my forehead, smearing a bit a blood across my dark red coat. I was going to have to wash my hair when I got home, as blood stained my deep red and yellow mane and tail, which were styled into curls at the top and into waves as they went down. Normally, I wasn't quite as a brutal as I was tonight, but, I had decided that- for once- I'd give into the 'killer rush' I normally felt but usually put aside to minimalize damage to organs.
My identity remained a tightly sealed secret to the ponies of Canterlot, but all knew who to blame when another corpse was found somewhere in the back allies and side streets. Some called me the Ripper, others knew me as the Harvester. Quite a few had come up with rather interesting nicknames, such as the Angel of Death and the Crimson Killer. All rubbish and rather silly names, if you ask me. Not that they knew- nor would they ever- but I preferred to be called Karma. Just Karma. No 'the Karma Killer' or 'the Crimson Karma' or whatever other silly names they could possibly create. Just Karma, pure and simple. Karma certainly was not my birth name, but such a name had not been suitable for such a skilled killer- or hunter of the night, as they called me- thus, I dubbed myself Karma. So much, in fact, had I preferred and referred to myself as Karma that, at times, I had forgotten what my birth name was at all.
My parents had been upstanding citizens, no brush ups with the Canterlot Police, no trouble with government agencies and- all around- the most saintly couple to ever grace the face of Equus. They had but only one child- me - and raised her to be a spitting image of them, like a mere clone produced through Mitosis. However, somewhere along the way, their perfect little princess had started to fall off the path of grace and began to descend into a never-ending spiral of evil. For as long as I could remember, there had always been this animalistic urge deep down inside of me. An urge that wanted nothing more than to see the blood of another living being stained upon the silver sheen of a sleek, serrated knife. An urge the begged to hear the pathetic wails and fruitless begging of another pony as they died slowly but surely- and as painful as possible.
It wasn't until my first day of biology when I had been in high school that that urge- that unearthly plea- hadn't, for once, been ignored and suppressed. That day, we had jumped right into dissection. With the images and each pleasurable moment as that unfortunate frog had been meticulously yet carefully taken apart- bit by bit- still fresh in my mind, I had gone home and looked at my parents like they were the frogs from biology. Of course, I had the slightest bit of an inkling that acting in such a brash and hasty manner would result in consequences that would've barred my freedom today and thus, I bid my time and sated the animalistic urge with the deaths of several, several small animals.
The Nightmare Night celebration the following year had been the last for my parents as well as few other partygoers. Hours prior to the party, I spent my time meticulously setting up various traps and making sure everything went accordingly for my experiments. To prove to myself that I could kill somepony for a rational reason- and to just kill somepony in general- I had decided that at the Nightmare Night party my parents would be throwing, I would observe and record how ponies would react to the actual deaths of once living, breathing ponies after realizing there were no special effects involved. I also wanted to see how they would react when the power had been cut, all possible exits sealed, any and every means of contacting help out of the picture after realizing there was a killer amongst them. Needless to say, the experiments had been a rather smashing success and I had even managed to successfully evade the suspicion of the police. From that day henceforth, I have made a rather killer living- pun intended - off of my less than reputable hobby. Oh, might I include that ponies of Canterlot had not the slightest clue that- when they dine at my restaurant- they're eating the flesh and organs of some poor, unfortunate victim?
Snapped from my thoughts by the sounds of rats scurrying about in a nearby dumpster, I finished my task and disposed the mare's body inside the designated disposal bin. Almost immediately, I heard the unmistakable sound of flesh being chewed upon and shredded by small, sharp teeth coming from within the dumpster. With another night's work completed and feeling moderately satisfied tonight's kill, I walked triumphantly back to my humble abode with my delectable prizes towed not far behind.
About halfway there, the ground around me began to shake with utter violence. The night sky began to flicker with jagged lines of whitish-blue. The scenery around me changed in an inexplicable manner that left me at a loss for words. A voice began to blare loudly, informing of some failure, but seemed to be coming from within my head. As the voice continued to blare, everything around me seemed to fragment and fall apart, much like taking a hammer to a pane of glass.
Welcome Memorandum {Prologue}
Welcome- [::REDACTED::]- aboard the Discovery Horizon I. We here at Odyssey Space Program and aboard the Discovery are glad you decided to volunteer for our [[::CLASSIFIED::]] program. Your sacrifice, as well the sacrifice of the other 28 program volunteers, is greatly appreciated to further the arts of both science and technology, as well as the further understanding of psychosomatic tendencies that occur when placed in various situations. Aboard the Discovery Horizon I, you will be stationed with our other 106 volunteers for our various other programs, such as our [[::CLASSIFIED::]] Program and [[::CLASSIFIED::]] Program.
This memorandum is being given to you purely as business protocol rather than a document for you to keep indefinitely and to have knowledge of, as soon, you will forget about everything- including this document. Your past, your personality, your family, friends- and anypony else important to you- they all will be completely erased from your brain. Do not fret, we will keep those memories intact, preserved and stowed away for safe keeping. Those memories will then be replaced by artificial ones- ones completely fabricated by our personnel working in the [[::CLASSIFIED::]] division. You will have- as previously stated- no memory or any form of remembrance of this document and the procedure following the completion of reading this memorandum. After the completion of reading this document as per protocol, your memories will be stripped and replaced, and it will be as if none of this ever happened.
Once again we thank you, [::REDACTED::], for your sacrifice and volunteering for [[::CLASSIFIED::]] program. Have a good day and do not let us down. We're counting on you.
Sincerely,
[[::REDACTED::]]
