Chapter 3: ...A Slave Obeys

Victory Charm bit back a snicker.: “Sugar Drop? That’s...”

I hung my head. “Go ahead and laugh.”

She hugged me tighter ruffling my mane with a hoof. “Oh my goddesses it’s adorable!”

A hot blush shone through my cheek fur and a perturbed look chiseled itself into my face. Which only made her full on burst in laughter.

“A... aha... ah goddesses, I’m sorry, but first you tell me the edgiest name in the wastes and then you tell me it’s something sweet like Sugar Drop.... Oh don’t be mad at me, it’s cute! But...” she paused, trying to figure out the classiest way to say it. “..Why Blood Drop? A little over-the-top isn’t it?”

“Well, you said it yourself. Sugar Drop is... “ I grumbled “cute” under my breath. “And... my mother was very strongly opposed to it. Thought... nopony would take me seriously with a name like... ugh... Sugar Drop.” I blushed hotter and grumbled more. I felt more and more like a stupid foal, bitching about a name “ ‘cuz it’s girly’ “

To this, she patted my back. “Don’t worry- Suuuuugar Drooooop- I won’t tell a soul. Buuuut I’m not going to let you live it down, either!” She chuckled and gave me a playful nudge, and I found myself smiling a little. I looked at my flank-a single drop of a red liquid falling into a cup full of it- and found myself staring at it for a good five minutes.

Mother, a difficult, cruel pony. Sugar Drop, a sweet innocent little foal, screaming and crying as a tattoo gun coloured in the clear drop and liquid of his cutie mark with a deep, blood-shaded crimson. Mother, smoking and watching dismissively. “It’s for your own good.”

Victory saw me deep in thought, and asked, “Is your mother also the one who painted that cutie mark? Red isn’t a very natural colour for sugar water.”

Well... “It wasn’t supposed to be sugar water. It was supposed to be a drop of pure, clean water falling into a cup full of it. I got the cutie mark when we were scavenging with my father, and I happened upon a water spigot. He told me it wouldn’t run, and as I turned the lever, it didn’t- until I kicked it juuuust right, and beautiful, clean spring water flowed freely from it. One flash later and my cutie mark showed- my father said it... said the water tasted sweet, sweet as the purest sugar.” I found myself looking at it intently, as she looked down at her hooves. This time I was the one who patted her back in return. “Hey. I’m fine with it. I got used to it years ago- blood is more... intimidating for the wasteland. Never did find trouble getting water while I traveled the wastes.” I glanced at her flank as well, wondering why I’d never noticed it; a mandala, adorned with gemstones and an eye in the center. “Evil eye amulet, huh?”

She looked at me confused. “How did you...”

“Mother and I lived with a commune of mystics while she got back on her hooves.” I snorted dismissively. “Not that she ever did, drunk old cunt. But, they all wore those around their necks. Said it would ‘scare away evil beings’ and ‘prevent the evil eye from stealing from a pony’ or something.stupid like that.” I saw a look cross her face, one of irritation, but I wasn’t sure if it was the “something stupid” line or the “old cunt” line.

“They may not work, but they’re not stupid. Anything that gives a pony hope or confidence is a good thing in my book. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. But it doesn’t matter. What matters it what it means to the ponies who prize them. Hay, I got mine from my aunt, who let me look at a mandala. I .. learned how to make one. I reproduced a very, very old mandela from a book; family said it required an impossible amount of crafting prowess. The second I was done, it showed. Not that it did us any good...” she trailed off, and I immediately felt like shit.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it like that...”

“I know you didn’t.,” she sighed miserably, and my heart drooped. “But, yknow, I’m inclined to believe you’re right. It certainly didn’t stop...” a deep, ragged breath. “...Didn’t keep the raiders away, now did it?”

I mustered my courage, and countered with an “Oh what do I know, my name is Sugar Drop for Celestia’s sake.” I gave her the most good-natured smile I could, and she returned it with a relieved sigh. “‘Sides, it kept YOU alive, didn’t it? You’re still here. Maybe it IS good luck, and I’m just an asshole. Sound about right?”

“Sounds about right,” she breathed, and gave me a gentle one-hoofed buck in the arm. It stung, still, from exhaustion, but I chuckled and rubbed it pretending it was far worse than it was.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing the warmth of the fire to soothe our aching muscles, before I spoke again.

“Victory?”

“Please. Charm will be fine.”

“Charm..” I looked at her, and I knew as she recoiled a little I was putting my all into my warning- “I’m not a good pony. I never have been, and it’s likely I never will be, not completely.” She eased a little, muscles visibly relaxing as I continued. “I have done things in my life in the wastes. Mostly to other ponies.” I felt my old cynicism leaking into my voice, making it harder edged. “Most of them aren’t as bad as selling a pony into slavery, but...” I gulped hard, and made sure my voice was steady and confident. “You may learn things about me that will make today look like Celestia herself had swept you into the heavens. And you may think of me in the worst way, worse than raiders, worse than Rusters. Or perhaps, you won’t. But above all, I need you to promise me something.”

She gulped as well, and replied with a tentative “Yes?”

“I need you to promise that if I step out of line, you will buck me back into it. You are the only pony I’ve ever met that made me want to be... in a word, better.” I sighed softly, the tension in my own muscles releasing. “It will be a long road, and it won’t be easy. But you might be the only pony in the wastes that can help me. I need you to promise that you won’t hesitate. And if you do end up hating me... at least make sure to break me before you go.”

“Sugar...”

“Promise.”

“Dr-”

“PROMISE!” I stamped my hoof hard enough the entire shack shook, and she made a firm, resolute nod.

“I promise I will help make you a better pony. But only in return for one thing.”

I was taken aback, but desperation tinged my voice as I replied “Anything.”

A fire glowed in her eyes, emerald green and stark as the rays of a laser rifle.

“You have to promise to make me stronger.”

I blinked, and replied with a flat “What?”

“I want to protect and help the ponies in the wastes, Sugar Drop, and I can’t do that. Not like I am. I lived all of my life sheltered, in a safe home that was ripped from my hooves forever. I never fired a gun until three days ago” (THAT answered my question.) “and had never... t.. Taken a life until you pushed me to it. I am NOT, and I repeat NOT saying that was right; you made me murder an unconscious, random pony, and that will never go away.” I sat stone-still and took the blow to my heart as it sank with regret- just one more thing to atone for. I nodded, and her voice lost its razor sharp tone as she continued. “But, I’m not stupid. I’m not stupid, and I’m not weak. I know the wastes are a hard place to live, and that ponies who refuse to fire a gun or defend themselves die. I will NOT,” a stomp, not quite enough to shake anything but a shelf which dropped a jar which miraculously did not shatter, “Become one of those stinking corpses half-buried in the Ponjave sand. I’ll make you a better pony, Sugar Drop, and I’ll do my damndest to see you redeem whatever sins you’ve committed in the wastes. But in return, you will teach me how not to be a victim ever. Again.”

I had only once seen her this fired up- I recalled the look in her eyes as she smacked the bars of my cage, bringing pain down upon me for the situation I got us in, and I saw it now- underneath the playful, almost... matronly personality I saw in her, the one that made me want to keep her safe the most, was a heart of vengeful dragonfire, wanting to lash out in retaliation against a cruel world that had robbed her of everything- her life, her innocence, her family, friends, home, even the magic that made her unique. I saw the rage, the complete and utter fury, burning in the crimson-orange light of the burning fire, and I knew this was not just some..half-hearted confession of vice.

She was not just making me promise to keep her strong. She was making a declaration that she would NOT fall prey to the wastes again.

I thought for a moment, and stood. She regarded me with confusion as I slammed a hoof down on the mason jar, shattering it into long jagged pieces of glass. I took the piece (careful not to cut my tongue), and turned to face her as she looked ready to swing if need be. To that end, I took the glass, brought it to the fire, and sat down across from her.

And putting the glass to the softest part of my hoof, I pressed it against the flesh and drew the glass through my skin, wincing as it separated.

Blood immediately seeped from the wound, and I looked her dead in the face, my cobalt blue eyes showcasing the exact same fire she had just displayed, as I tossed the glass to her.

She looked at it, and I expected a “what?” or an “are you sure?” or even a “what the hell is wrong with you?”; to my surprise, she herself took the glass in her teeth and sliced open her own hoof, matching me.

She held hers out to me, over the rising smoke, and I returned the gesture, her hoof pressing to mine. We allowed the solemn silence to fill the cabin like so much air, and as our blood mixed, we both held up our opposite hooves and swore.

“Cross my heart... hope to fly... stick a cupcake in my eye.”

A second passed, and we found ourselves laughing at our own solemnity. Even still, somewhere in the heavens a bright pink earth pony smiled, giving her blessing to our pact, a promise never to be broken.

********************************************************************************************************

After another day’s rest, and a gathering of the supplies we had left, we decided to set out again in earnest. I was determined to get her to Tenpony- explosive magic was nice, but I couldn’t imagine how it would have felt to lose a horn. We ignored the gas, and the doused campfire we didn’t notice on the way out, and as we left I tossed my mane back out of my eyes. Suddenly, a thought came to mind, and my eyebrows fell so far they felt like they’d hit my hooves.

“Uh...Victory?”

“Vic. Please. It’s the least I can do considering.”

I smiled at that. “Okay, Vic. Uhm... where’s my gun?”

Her look told me all I needed to know. Now, despite being fully stocked with food and water... we had no weapons. And I figured she was only good for a few blasts of magic. I had had a countless number of caps and ammunition in my original saddlebags, but those were long gone- so, too, I suspected, was the town we’d left them in. So...

“Damn.”

Vic’s ears perked. “What?”

I counted the rounds in the ten mil’s clip, and sighed. “I only have 14 shots. Must have been modified to have as many as it did. So in short, we’re screwed. How many shots you good for?”

“Four, five if I nap.”

The Ponjave desert had a massive network of trade wagons, usually owned by individual ponies with the mindset befitting of an entrepreneur. That being said, the largest of the groups selling their wares across the Ponjave was the “Crimson Caravan”, a team of all-red ponies who banded together and thought it would be a good idea to start a caravan company. Fortunately for them (and unfortunately for everyone else) the Crimson Caravan ponies were extraordinarily cutthroat about their business- literally if it came to that- and essentially monopolized all of the trade routes here. Their trade caravans were always on time, and luckily for us, I knew the next shipment. I told her as much, and then she shook me from my plotting with a very, very simple problem.

“Um, we don’t have any caps?”

I blinked. “YOU don’t have any caps?”

She danced from side to side, from one hoof to the other. “Nnnno? I spent it all on uhm... brandy and healing potions.”

I’d never facehoofed so hard in my life. “Alright, well, we have to scavenge some. You seem like you’re very skilled with scavenging- any ideas?’

“What’s in the area?”

“Well.. there’s Repcolt far to the east, but that has a number of pissy robots with energy weapons... Novac to the southeast, but any job they have will likely require ammunition we don’t have... “

“Novac?”

“Novac is this... old, crappy resort along the I-63. The sign got damaged, and now instead of No Vacancy, it’s just No Vac. Novac. The mare there, Hospitality, is pretty attached to the place, and there’s usually some issue people need solved. But we don’t have any caps to buy ammunition, and need ammunition to get caps.”

“Well, we’re bucked either way. Let’s go there- perhaps we’ll stumble across something to pawn for a few bullets.” I nodded, but before I could begin trotting, she stated in a stern voice “As long as you know we won’t be shooting any ponies unless they shoot first.”

I stopped in my tracks, twitching like I’d been hit. “I... suppose that’s fine. But if they shoot us...”

“Then self defense is fine. Cold-blooded murder isn’t.” She stated matter of factly, and I kicked some sand. “We’ll be fine.” Her hoof nudged my shoulder, and I gave her a smile. “I’m sure of it. Just try not to shoot first, ask questions later, alright?”

“Alright. I’ll do as you ask.” I smiled a wry, cruel smile. “But if they shoot at us, especially at you, Blood Drop is who they’ll have the misfortune of meeting.”

********************************************************************************************************

The short trot to Novac was almost entirely uneventful. I was mildly disappointed at that- I’d had a bad few days, and could use some target practice. I scolded myself for thinking that way- that wasn’t going to make me any better- but the thought still lingered far longer than it should have. As we drew near, a massive, cartoonish dragon loomed over the horizon even in the near blinding sunlight. A scant few buildings, mostly in fine condition, were contained within a perimeter of tattered chain link fences. We stepped up to the front gate in record time, and smiled as we were introduced to the town by a dress-clad magenta coated, slightly unicorn with the neatest-kept auburn mane I’d ever beheld.

“Hello, Hospitality,” I greeted the gorgeous mare with my most pleasant disposition, a fake smile spreading accross my muzzle.

Her response was like antifreeze- sweet, but toxic. “Hello, Blood Drop. How are YOU doing today.”

“Oh I’m just delightful. And yourself?”

“Likewise,” she said through barely-hidden grit teeth. “May I ask what you’re doing in our fine town?”

“We...”

Victory interrupted me, voice light and bubbly. “..Could use some supplies!” She offered a hoof, and it was shaken with great enthusiasm. “I don’t suppose this gorgeous town has a commissary we could spend our caps on?”

At the mention of caps, her face lit up. “Why of COURSE we do, my dear, you just go right back into the big dragon and talk to Coin Flip, he’ll help you out. And tell him Hospitality sent you!” She shot me a dirty look. “YOU can wait outside.”

We glanced at each other, and she went inside, disappearing inside the great stone-hewn tourist trap, as I set my plot down on the sand, crossing my forelegs impatiently.

“Oh don’t you give me that,” she spat at me the instant my companion was out of earshot. “You’re lucky I didn’t have Bon Mott shoot you the second he saw you.”

“Yeah? And who would have looked bad at that, popping a pony’s head who could give you caps?”

“Do you even HAVE caps?”

“...No. That’s what Victory Charm there is here for.”

To this she groaned and rolled her eyes. “Of course. You bring in a sweet, nice pony just to use her for cap gathering duty.” I shot her a death glare and her eyes went wide. “No.. You... are you serious? You? And HER?”

“No, not ‘me and her’, we met on the road and I’m escorting her to Tenpony. No more, no less, but you’d best keep your muzzle shut before I smack that look right off your face.” There was the snarling mercenary I remembered. Wait...

“Alright, alright, fine. But listen, you do anything to that poor mare and I’ll make sure Bon Mott turns your skull into chunky salsa!”

“Whatever, Hospitality. Go back to keeping your town’s citizens in this shitty excuse for a town.”

Hospitality bristled, turning around and going back into the dark confines of her office. I looked around the dingy town and leaned back against the building, feeling the slightest pang of guilt. I suppose it’s not.... Too bad. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell HER that. Something about Hospitality had always bothered me- she didn’t carry herself like a mayor, or an entrepreneur. She carried herself like a card shark, always looking to manipulate the odds in her favor- and her wallet’s favor, too. I wondered why she tolerated me being here- I clearly wasn’t falling for it, and I had no physical attraction to the mare who owned the town- but I paid well for their supplies, and that seemed to be enough. I wouldn’t deny she was beautiful- I didn’t need to lust after her to see that- but my own preferences rendered me immune to her wiles and charm.

Too bad I had no “wiles and charm” of myself.

I thought back to the first time meeting Hospitality, the sultry tone she used towards me when I asked what work there was to be done. I’d been lacking in caps the few months before, and found myself in Novac when chasing a mark I’d been yet to be paid for. The pony, a resident of the town, ducked into the fences and I came to learn they were sleeping in one of the free rooms given to wayward travellers. I had asked for work- a useful cover, I’d found- and she was as saccharin and seductive as possible when trying to convince me to do something for her for free. When I reeled, and snapped at her to stop trying to seduce me out of a few caps to spruce up her worthless town, she immediately switched to anger and bucked me out. Not only did I lose the caps I needed for a few more supplies, I had to wait a solid day for her to finally relent and let me in. Of course, I was strapped for caps, which made her none to happy, and she tried to get rid of me again only to be talked out of it by...

“HEY!” I felt a hoof hit the small of my back, and coughed as Hospitality’s older brother, Geniality, startled me out of my thoughts. “Been forever since we saw you around here! What in the hay are you doing here this time of year?”

I permitted a broad grin to spread across my face, and clapped him back on the shoulder as hard as I could. Geniality was a massive, massive pony easily two feet or more above my height and possessed of stout build uncommon of most unicorns. Burnt sienna fur and a short-cut crimson mane made him easy to see from halfway across the Ponjave, and his gentle blue eyes somehow kept his massive size from being the least bit intimidating. His Cutie Mark, a heart-shaped bed with white pillows galore, made it abundantly clear why he was so genial. ESPECIALLY to me. “Oh, just passing through with a new... friend.”

His eyes lit up and he gasped the most cartoonish gasp I’d ever seen. “Frieeeeeend? Is he nice?”

I rolled my eyes. “She, Geniality, she. Just a friend. Just that.”

He chuckled deeply, smacking me again knocking the air from my lungs with an “oof”. “Well damn! Had me worried you were changing teams, old buddy!”

Old buddy, he said. When his sister had tried to kick me from the town, he had opened up his bed to me- with aaaall of the perks that came with it- and convinced Hospitality to give me a little slack. Of course, that was likely because I threatened I’d make him whinny so loud everyone would bust down her door with complaints, which I very nearly did just to spite her.

Lot more than buddies and claps on the back that night.

Victory finally trotted out of the dragon’s belly, carrying a whole bag of supplies the size of which completely shocked me. She dropped it next to me, and smiled- “Is this enough?” She regarded Geniality with a sweet smile, and added “And who is this?”

Geniality clapped her on the back same as he had me- whilst I sat solid, she was sent almost flying with her muzzle burying in the sand, as Geniality gasped yet again and picked her up with a single hoof, her head swimming. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry. I don’t know my own strength! I’m Geniality, Hospitality’s big brother. And you must be...”

She shook her head hard and replied “Victory. Victory Charm. Nice to meet you! Don’t worry, I can take it,” she was lying and as he stood and beamed her eyes were spinning.

“Well! A friend of Blood here is a friend of mine! If you all need a bed for the night...” he gave a knowing wink, “...Just let me know.” He turned around, giving Victory a good look at his cutie mark, and trotted primly up the stairs of the hotel.

“Wow.” Victory’s blue coat had turned a vibrant purple around her muzzle, and her lip started quivering. “Friend of yours?”

“Yeah. Bedmate a while back. Didn’t think his door swung both ways.” I looked at her , eyes trained on the door, clearly smitten, and snickered. “Come on, eyes on the prize, Vic. What’d you get from Coin Flip?” I paused. “And how the hell did you manage THAT!” I added, gesturing to the massive pack of ... whatever it was.

She shook herself of her trance, and spread the bag. “Oh, I struck a deal with that nice old pony, he was sooooo lonely, so I spent a few minutes with him chatting. Poor thing was desperate for some company. He told me about an issue at Repcolt up the road; said some “monsters” had taken up residence there, and were occasionally giving them trouble. He said we could take care of it for some caps; I said we had no way to deal with monsters. So-” a plentiful amount of ammunition, a few firearms, and a couple of little starship-spaced bottles. “-he paid us in advance!”

“Nicely done. Now let’s get out of this worthless town before they figure ou-” her hoof struck me right in the cheek; it stung, but she clearly wasn’t trying to do damage. “..Ooooow. Alright, alright, sorry. Old habits.” she nodded, a small smile on her lips. “Thanks.”

“No problem, S... I mean, uh, Drop. Now, uhm... I do have oooone minor problem, we need to deal with before we go.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Victory, I really don’t think Geniality would let you out of bed before nightfa-”

She waved her hoof irritably. “No, no. Not that. Well..” she stared longingly at the door, and quickly amended it with “That too, but that can wait for later.”

“Then what?”

She flushed and tapped the tips of her hooves together, looking sheepish.

“What is it?” I prodded.

“I.. don’t... know how to shoot.”

********************************************************************************************************

“Okay, Vic.” I said, trotting side to side in front of our impromptu shooting range. I had arranged a few bottles and cans on a far-off intact fence, and making sure there was nopony who would get hit if a bullet went stray, I had given her the pistol (fully reloaded) and recited the basic rules of firearm safety. “What were the three things I told you.”

She tapped her chin, starting off into the sky attempting to remember. “Uhm.. one- always point the gun in a safe direction. Two, keep your tongue off the trigger unless ready to fire. And three... um...”

“C’mon, I know you can do this.” The most reassuring smile I could give, and I had to wonder if it looked as sincere as it felt.

“Only aim at things you plan to kill.” She looked uncomfortable with that one- no wonder that was the hard one to remember for her. A flashback of her killing her first pony flooded my memory, and I remembered how devastated she had been, sobbing and choking on her guilt. I wondered how badly she held that against me, but.. Again. She had to learn eventually.

“Right. Now, don’t worry about finesse right now- just focus on shooting.” I trotted over to her, and helped move her hooves into a steady position. “This stance will help resist the kickback of the gun. That peashooter you used at first- sorry- was only a .22. Tiniest caliber pistols come in, and only really effective against ponies without barding that don’t know you’re there.”

Victory nodded, and planted her hooves firmly in the sand- she was a quick study, which put my mind at ease. Guns were simple, yes, but there were many nuances only somepony who had spent most of their lives in the wastes using them for survival would know- I was pleasantly surprised that she was absorbing information as well as she was. Or at least I hoped she was.

“So um... .22 are worthless?’

“I didn’t say that- they just don’t hurt much. Anything bigger than a radroach you’re just likely to piss it off if you shoot it with one. Still, they tend to be small. Easy to slip into places that don’t allow guns. Usually the element of surprise is enough at close range to make up for their lack of stopping power.” to this, she cocked her head, and I had to grit my teeth to resist laughing. Goddesses she was adorable. “Oh, ah, stopping power is a term we use to let you know how much they kick the target back. A shotgun is a lot more likely to stop a charging raider than a nine-mil.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense. Now uh... what about the shooting part?”

I took the pistol into my teeth, and held it to her; she took it into her muzzle, letting the grip settle in her teeth, and blinked. She just got cuter as it went on! “Okay, now, when you pull the trigger it won’t take too much force- just enough to keep you from misfiring with your usual involuntary tongue movements. Don’t just flick your tongue when you fire- if you move the trigger too quickly, it will move the gun and the bullet will fly off course. Tiny changes in trajectory will have large consequences.”

“Sof whaf foo af fo?”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh that time. “Just move the trigger slow. Squeeze, don’t tug. You’re not an earth pony, so I’m warning you, your teeth might hurt a little bit. You get used to it though- better grips will hurt your teeth less. Makes it easier to aim. As it is, fire as seldom as you can- if your mouth goes numb, you’ll struggle to figure out how to tug the trigger. It won’t be a problem once we fix that horn, but until then, you’ll just have to cope.” I slowly trotted to her side, and held a hoof under the barrel of the gun helping her position it. “Okay. look down the sight. Always always always aim a little bit above what you’re aiming at at anything but point blank- gravity will pull it down. I don’t expect you to be sniping with that dinky thing, but I hope it won’t be too much of a problem at the ranges we’ll fight at in Repcolt. Okay, position the bottle right there at the tongue in the sight... make sure your knees aren’t locked, and your jaw isn’t set too tight, or you’ll overextend and hurt or pull something. Brace... aim... breeeeathe, and... tongue the trigger.” Slowly but surely, holding the gun surprisingly stable, she slowly squoze the trigger- the action was released, the primer fired, the powder detonated and her body jerked back with the recoil as the bullet ripped through the glass bottle on the post, shattering it into a hundred pieces. “Nice shot!”

Victory’s tail whipped, and she grinned around the grip beaming with pride. She took the gun in her hooves, sat back, and took her muzzle from the trigger, face split by a massive, toothy grin. “That.. wow! That felt amazing! Whoah!” I laughed, and she giggled- firing a gun for the first time was always such an exhilarating experience.

Mother, stamping her hoof. Blood Drop- or, Sugar Drop- was shaking, gums bleeding from holding the rifle too tightly. “No, no! You idiot! I said keep your jaw loose! Do you WANT to break all of your teeth? Now shoot again!” Stress made his jaw clench, and he squoze the trigger- another missed shot, and his teeth exploded with pain. Mother’s hoof smacked his head, and she sighed irritably. “Goddesses dammit, if you waste ammunition we won’t be able to afford any more! Don’t miss!” another shot, this one hitting the target- the bleeding in his gums filled his muzzle with his own blood, and he choked it down, coughing around the gun as his mother patted his back. “See? That’s much more like it. Now, try to hit it again...”

“Sugar?” I looked at Victory, her face creased with concern. “Are you alright?”

I must have zoned out while remembrance filled my brain with unpleasant feelings. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I shook my head hard, and gave her my best attempt at a “warm smile”. I didn’t feel like it was convincing. “Just remembering... something.”

She didn’t look convinced, either. “Alright, well... just... if you need to bring something up, make sure you tell me. Alright? We’re in this together, after all.”

I smiled at that. ‘In this together’. A blood-forged pact, and I smiled back at her. “I’m fine, really. I promise. Just remembering my first time shooting.”

“Oh?” she playfully punched my shoulder, and I chuckled. “Pleasant?”

“Not.. so much, no. Mother didn’t tolerate mistakes.”

A sadness crossed her eyes, and she looked at the gun in her hooves. I nudged her, and sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Let’s just focus on some more drilling. Alright? You’re pretty damn good for your first ... erm, second time firing a gun. Has a lot more kick. Doesn’t it?’

“Hay yeah...” now she was smiling too. Good. I hated seeing her upset. “...Didn’t he give us a shotgun?”

“You... sure you want to try that? They kick like a mule on Psycho.”

Her grin grew devilish. “Hells yes I want to try it! The pistol was so awesome I can’t wait to try something else!”

I chuckled, and trotted over to the bag, digging out a short-barrelled double shotgun, and tossed it over to her. I pulled out a shell, and held it out for her to see.

“Alright, this is a shell. 12-guage. Now, the thing about shotguns is that they fire in a spread...”

********************************************************************************************************

It was nearly dusk when we returned to Novac, and the entire way back to the safe confines of the fences she rubbed her jaw.

“Hey, to be fair I did warn you that shotguns kicked hard. See what happens when you bite down too hard on the grip?” Her first shot with the shotgun had nearly knocked her straight on her back, and the gun flew off on the second and buried itself in the sand. We had to dig it out- I took the chance to show her how to clean and maintain the gun- and her third gunshot had been held a little too tightly. She hadn’t bled, thank Celestia, but she was still going to be sore.

“Yeah, you did. Still, it WAS kinda cool! Aaaall the same, I think I’ll let you handle that one. Mister ‘Earth pony teeth are stronger’ .”

“Hey not my fault it’s objective fact.” I chuckled. “We can’t fly or cast spells, goddesses know we have to have SOMETHING in our favor.”

“And being able to toss stumps like nopony’s business and grow plants isn’t enough?”

“Hey, in this desert it’s a wonder ANYPONY can grow anything, even earth ponies. ‘Sides, I heard earth ponies are the ones who designed those spritebots!”

“And energy weaponry...” Her smile was wry.

“And none of it matters, at all. Now does it? World blew up, and didn’t amount to a hill of mutfruits.”

“Yeah, well,” she stated bitterly. “I don’t HAVE magic anymore, so that doesn’t amount to much either.” I smacked her in the chest, and she winced. “Hey, what gives?”

“Yes, your magic’s gone. And yet you’re still alive, kicking, and every bit as capable as I am. Besides, we’ll get to Tenpony and get it fixed. So don’t worry about it so much. Your magic didn’t make you who you were, your tenacity and resourcefulness did.”

“Wow, Drop. That... that was really sweet.” I blushed, and she chuckled.

“I uh.. Yeah. Don’t get used to it though, I’m not much of a pep talker.”

“Even so, that means a lot. Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.” she stopped for a moment, and looked up at the door- with a heart painted on it. “I uh... don’t suppose...”

I rolled my eyes, and patted her head. “Go ahead. I’ll find another place to sleep.”

“He’d probably let you sleep up there too, yknow.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Vic, dear, if you go up there and sleep in his room, you’re NOT going to be doing very much sleeping.” Her eyes went wide and her purple blush returned. “And no offense to you- and I really do mean that-but”

“You’re not into mares, yeah, yeah.” She chuckled, and stared at the door again. “I suppose I could use some more... comfortable company...” she socked my shoulder and I cringed. She looked me in the eyes, and said “Are you absolutely sure it’s okay?”

“Will you just go get laid already?” I said, my voice perhaps a little too impatient. I softened my voice a little as I reassured her. “I’ll be fine. He’s infertile, but that does NOT stop his production.Go. Have fun. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll find a comfortable cranny to sleep in and we can set out for Repcolt in the morning.”

She pulled me into a platonic hug, and I returned it as she grinned with an intense blush. “Well, okay then! I guess I’ll see you in the morning!” she hurriedly scurried up the stairs, and knocked on his door, and I turned away and chuckled as I heard Geniality’s uncomfortably sweet voice as it called “Oh, darling! Took me up on my offer? Good, let’s get you comfortable...” and the slamming of a doorway to passion.

I crawled over to one of the softer looking piles of rubble, and laid the massive sack of supplies down to try to make a sort of cushion. As I got comfortable, I immediately heard the sounds of wood against wood, and rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Sweet Luna, please let me sleep without having to hear that all night. I’ll owe ya one...” and closed my eyes, and as I zoned out the sounds of their intense session of “comfort”, sleep slowly took me.

********************************************************************************************************

I’m not sure how long it was before I woke up; when I did, though, I immediately knew something was wrong; not hard to notice, considering my hooves were bound. As the blurriness of my sleep slowly was blinked away, I looked around, and was greeted by the face of Victory, her muzzle and hooves bound tightly. I tried to speak, but found that mine was bound as well. She looked warily at the wagon we’d been laid in, and to my shock I saw Geniality pulling a wooden cart with us as the cargo. We stayed silent, looking around to try to get our bearings, before we head a familiar sweet-and-sour voice- “Ahhhh, I see our guests are awake!”

I sat straight up, and found a glowing shotgun held to my face- Hospitality looked entirely too pleased with herself. “Ah-ah-a-ahhh, don’t you move a muscle you piece of shit.” She moved the shotgun to Victory, who’s eyes filled with a mix of fear and revulsion. “I know you may not think so, but you’re worth quite a few caps..Alive, anyway. She, on the other hoof, is worthless to us. If you want your little marefriend to live, you’ll pipe down and keep your goddamned muzzle shut.” I looked at Victory, who glanced at me worriedly, and I slumped down in obedience, eyes trained on Hospitality’s. She smirked- a slimy, disgusting smirk i couldn’t stand- and continued her gloating. “And if you think my brother will help you, well... that isn’t likely, considering I’ve hopped him up on so much Jet and Psycho he’ll crush your little pony skull before you can get as far as begging to suck his cock to get free.” Hospitality spat at me, and I felt it hit my face. “I can’t believe my faggot brother fucked you of all ponies. And after I wanted to buck you out on your backside. If you weren’t so good at being a rutting post, he wouldnt’ve bothered with you, you know. Noone in this wasteland would ever carry a torch for someone like you.”

A massive bump in the road jostled Victory and I together, our heads impacting each other. We were both dazed- her horn had cut into my scalp and blood was pouring over my face. All Hospitality did was laugh.

“Oh that’s rich. You should never have insulted my town, asshole. And using the little slut there to do your deals for you? How despicable can you get!” The hypocrisy almost made me laugh- almost, as the butt of the shotgun impacted my belly and made me double over. “I’m going to sleep so well imagining the Rusters driving rusted nails into each of your hooves. I’m sure the dreams will be wet ones, too.” She closed her eyes, as if she were imagining it, and feigned a moan before sneering at us. “Oh, well look at that. Looks like we’re almost there! Lucky you. I wonder if they’ll torture both of you... hell, maybe they’ll just torture her and make you watch. A unicorn with no magic is worthless as a slave. I wonder how she’ll scream...” When did she get so fucked up? No way she went this crazy just because I said her town sucked.

As if she could read my thoughts, she suddenly began to shout. “You have any idea how much effort I’ve put into keeping my town pretty? How much bullshit I have to deal with?” Her once beautiful face contorted with a crazed fury. “It’s bad enough my brother is such a whore, and sleeps with every goddesses damned visitor to my city! I try to run a reasonable establishment, a beautiful town, and half the residents have to listen to that ... ugh... disgusting display of lust when trying to sleep! Every goddesses-be-damned night, I get another complaint about him rutting some random mare or stallion so loud nopony can sleep! And do you know what happens when somepony can’t sleep? THEY LEAVE! And then YOU!” the butt of the shotgun hit me in the neck, and i curled up tighter to defend it. “YOU came in and insulted my perfect town! Well no more! You’ll be too busy working yourself to death in the hooves of the fucking Rusters to have time to insult MY! TOWN!” She seethed, stamping her hooves with each step as she finally released years of resentment- all aimed at me. Almost all at once, her disposition turned sicklysweet again. “Make your prayers to Luna, Blood Drop. And make them loud, as loud as you can. Because they’re the last prayers you’re ever going to make!”

Two rusters, one tall with entirely too many spikes and another shorter with crackling energy shoes watched as the wagon was dragged up a short dune, Hospitality grinning sadistically and poor, sweet Geniality’s eyes completely blanked out as the Rusters stepped forward. They looked us over, seeming content, and regared Hospitality with open disgust.

“Are you ready to trade them?” The tall one drawled, sounding like their throat had a spike in it- hay, it might have.

“We have CA-AAAAAAAAPS!” the short one snarled, his voice disconcertingly high and squeaky.

“Yes, yes, I’m ready to be rid of them. Thorns in my side- well, one thorn and a worthless rose. How much am I going to get?”

The tall one answered. “You’ll get 1500 caps for the useless mare, and 5000 for the earth pony.” Five thousand caps. That was the value given to me. Clearly, Hospitality didn’t think it should have been that high to begin with.

“Really. Five thousand? For HIM? Tartarus take him, I wouldn’t have paid more than five HUNDRED! Take him and give me my caps. Let me be on my way.”

An exchange of caps, and the two of us were dragged without mercy into the desert sand. Rocks and ancient broken glass bottles dug into our skin, and we both cried out into the makeshift muzzles. We barely had time to see Hospitality waving us goodbye with the most hideous, evil glee we’d ever seen before we were thrown roughly into a cart full of refuse and slave collars. “So long, Blood Drop! Make sure you think of Novac and dream of how beautiful it was when you’re being driven to death in their slave pits!” She cackled, and in a moment, they were gone.

The short ruster looked us over, and grinned, drawing close as we lay there struggling against our bonds. “Aren’t YOU a tasty morsel! Maybe they’ll let us cut you to pieces before we go back to guard duty!” She gave a hard look at Victory, who looked like the world was going to end. “And you.. I think a few good hard sessions of getting fucked will give me a few extra foals to crush! Maybe i’ll even let you get attached to one! Think you’d like that? Oh I know you would, baby, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll have no CHOICE but to like it!”

I shot him the meanest look I could, and he gulped- yep, still got it. “And uh.. And you! We’ll use you for... for...”

“Shut up, Buzzsaw. Quit blabbering to the meat and help me get the wheels unchocked! Damn things are jammed!”

“They’re supposed to be jammed, you idiot! THEY’RE CHOCKED!” Buzzsaw trotted over and the two of them began pulling at rusty pipes, as I looked at Victory. The fear in her eyes was palpable- even still, I gently laid a hoof on her cheek in an attempt to soothe her. I was looking at her, trying to find a way to calm her, to say I cared for her and that it would be alright, when I noticed something- besides my damp muzzle, soaked with my own vitae, I looked at her forehead, and as I smelled my own blood on the binds, I got an idea. I nudged closer to her, putting the binds against the broken remnants of her horn; she looked confused, and then had a dawning realization as she helped scrape the sharp bit against the ropes. I found some degree of humor in the situation- just this evening she had complained about her shattered, useless horn, and here it was the key to our survival. I would have laughed, had I not been focused on chewing through the ropes. The second I felt the rope snap, I pulled the soaking wet binding from my muzzle, and put a hoof to my lips in the universal sign for silence. She nodded sheepishly, and I tugged at the binding on her legs- when I couldn’t budge them, I started chewing through the hemp- it tasted like swear and mildew, and it was clear she’d used much weaker ropes on Victory thinking they’d suffice. That would be a mistake that Hospitality would come to regret.

As Victory’s forehoof bindings came loose, and she began to pull at her own muzzle wrapping, I heard a sound that made my heart jump- “HEY! The meat is escaping!”

Ah buck.

I swung around, stood on my forelegs- and as the taller ruster, who had no helm to speak of, drew close, I coiled my body like a spring and bucked as hard as I could manage given my state and the rising adrenaline. Immediately he was knocked a foot back, and it took him long enough to get up that I was able to leap on him and pummel his face until he finally stopped moving. Buzzsaw moved closer, and I heard a telltale electric sound from behind him as he called “Crowbar! No! HE OWED ME FIFTY CAPS!” I hood my head under my hooves, and I heard the shocked gasp from the stout little earth pony just before I felt a rain of gore and a wave of intense heat, accompanied by an electric sound and a grunt of effort. I tried to stand up, and almost slipped in the sand- my bound hind hooves and my unbound front hooves were sufficient to let me see Victory, panting hard with sweat dripping down her forehead around the singed fur surrounding her horn. We looked at each other, and I immediately knew what to say.

“Will killing Hospitality count as self defense now?”

Victory narrowed her eyes, unravelling the ropes around her muzzle, and gave me exactly the response I was waiting for- “Considering she just tried to sell us into slavery? Over a few bad words about her town? You’re Celestia-damned right it is. Here. Help me get my hindlegs free...”

********************************************************************************************************

We galloped at full tilt towards Novac- we figured it had to be a straight shot, and we were right, as we saw the big orange dragon statue dawn over the horizon- I had taken the rusted pipe that the Rusters had been using to keep their wagon from rolling down the hill, and Victory forewent a weapon in favor of her horn, which she was immediately beginning to appreciate. As we drew near, the town was oddly quiet- all we heard was a soft sobbing in Hospitality’s office. We glanced at each other, as if asking the same question and answering each other in unison.

“Geniality!”

We counted silently, one... two... THREE! And we spinning bucked the door simultaneously; its rusted hinges barely held the door open at first, and as the door fell from its frame to the filthy floor of the office, we were greeted by a gruesome, disturbing sight- Hospitality, or what was left of her, smeared all over the concrete and tile, blood all over the room, and Geniality, soaked in what was ostensibly the remains of his own sister, crying loudly into his hooves. The only indication that it was Hospitality that was the unfortunate victim was a single remaining eye, that somehow held the greasy yet beautiful mare’s piercing gaze.

“...Considering I’ve hopped him up on so much Jet and Psycho he’ll crush your little pony skull before you can get as far as begging to suck his cock...”

Sweet Celestia and Luna’s love....

********************************************************************************************************

When we had arrived at Novac, Geniality had already come down from the drugs that his sister had used to make him a slave to her will. It took us a couple of hours to calm him down, and our suspicions were confirmed as we finally got him to recall what happened; They had returned to the office, and Hospitality had been screaming and gloating to her drug-addled older sibling, when Geniality finally lost the will to fight the Psycho and Jet coursing through his veins. As we had suspected, the same furious destruction she had warned would end us if we tried to fight back had come around to bite her in the tail, and poor, sweet, caring Geniality had, with all of his drug-fueled strength on top of his already impressive size, stomped his sister into little more than a pile of scattered viscera.

Geniality, the heir to the city now, was barely able to move when he had finished crying over the loss of his sister. Almost nothing was left of the usually warm and friendly stallion I’d just spoken to the day before- right now, in the aftermath of a horrible act of violence that we could not seem to convince him was not his fault, he was just a hollow shell of a pony, even as we finally got him up to his room, bathed, and into his heart-shaped bed. We made absolutely sure he would be alright before we left the room, and stepped out onto the balcony porch. As we sat, silent and staring into the night and trying to forget the gruesome scene we’d happened upon and the unfortunate pony who had commited it, I let out a soft sigh and looked to my travelling companion.

For as disgusting as the scene had been, Victory seemed to have taken it pretty well. I didn’t pretend to know why, though I suspected her raider-related issues had something to do with it; but I also knew that she had an inner, resolute strength that would see her through just about anything with only the slightest amount of support. I stared longingly into her eyes, and eventually she did finally take notice. She locked eyes with me, and simply asked, “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” She turned to face me without craning her neck, and I found myself gazing into the sky. “Sorry for what, Sugar Drop?”

“This.” I gestured generally to the office, Novac, and the door behind me. “I’m sorry that all of this happened.”

A gentle hoof touched my shoulder, though I could not make myself look at her. “Sugar Drop... honey, this isn’t your fault.”

I sighed miserably, and countered, “How is this NOT my fault? I’m the one who dragged you here for supplies, and I’m the one who insulted” I whispered, worried that Geniality’s tears would start again if he heard the name again “Hospitalty’s town. If I hadn’t done that...”

“Sugar Drop, honestly. Yes. You hurt her feelings, you insulted a town she worked hard to create. And that wasn’t alright.. But at the same time, normal ponies don’t react to a few hurt feelings by selling ponies into slavery! Face it, Drop- Hospitality was insane. Clearly, visibly, and dangerously insane.”

“That doesn’t mean this isn’t my fault.”

She sighed, and wrapped a hoof around my back. “Sugar Drop, listen. This was her decision. She could have just grinned and beared it, but instead she allowed something small to fester into a tremendous calamity. It was her who decided to drug her brother up so he couldn’t see straight and use him to sell two ponies into slavery to the most sadistic raider clan in the Ponjave wasteland, and in the end that’s what got her killed. Her decision is what led to her own flesh and blood pummeling her into a thin red paste.” she shook her head, shooting a gaze over her shoulder to the heart-adorned door. “Her madness and stupidity is the reason that Geniality will wake up tomorrow without a sister and scarred for the rest of his life.” She turned to look me straight in the eyes. “Not yours.”

I still struggled to look her in the eyes, but I was able to hold my head up a little straighter. “I just wish there was something I could do to help him. I mean.. If he wanted to blame me for this...”

“Then that would be his prerogative- still, I seriously doubt he will. He seems too... kind to do that to somepony.”

“Even if that pony is the one that his own sister tried to sell?” I uttered under my breath, loud enough for her to hear.

“Even if that pony is the one who’s sitting here trying to atone for a past misdeed by letting it fester. Sugar Drop, I don’t expect you not to feel... bad, or guilty about this. I feel pretty guilty about it myself, considering I had nothing to do with it except just being there. But please, remember that beating yourself up for such miniscule mistakes, and taking on blame that isn’t yours, won’t make you any better of a pony. All it will do is magnify in your heart until you can’t take it anymore, and you jump in front of a raider’s bullet in an attempt to atone by just killing yourself.” She was silent for another moment, and whispered “And I don’t know if I could take that.”

Now, I could look in her eyes, but she wouldn’t look in mine. I put a hoof under her chin, and saw a couple of tears rolling down her cheeks as I made her look at me. “Victory... thank you. You really are an amazing pony.”

A genuine smile crossed her face for the first time since the shooting range, and I felt warmth blossom in my heart. “Thank you, Sugar Drop. Thank you so very much. And.. and thank you for more than just th-” I put a hoof to her lips, smiled, and shook my head.

“Victory, no thanks are necessary. I just want to treat you as well as you’ve treated me, despite knowing me such a short time. I.. uh.. I see you as more than just some... strange mare I happened to save.”

“Sugar Drop?”

I looked away, smiling and rubbing a singular tear away. “I’ve never really... had...”

“A friend?”

“A friend.”

Victory jostled me with a hug and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad I could be the first. And you, well.. I think... I think I see you as a friend and a little bit more.” she winked, and I smiled. “I’m sure I won’t be the last, but for right now, I’m content with just... being here with you.”

“Even though we’ve only known each other for four days?”

She scoffed. “Oh, come on. I’ve heard stories of ponies becoming the best of friends in a single night. I don’t think it’s that strange.”

I hesitated, just a little bit. “Victory?”

“Yeah?”

I pulled her into a tender hug, and she returned it gratefully. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sugar Drop.” my heart fluttered again. “Friends love each other, after all. And I’m glad to call you mine.”

We held the hug for a few minutes, against the cold of the Equestrian night, and when we pulled apart, we both smiled shy, embarrassed little smiles.

“Are you alright, Victory?” I started, after several silent minutes of just.. Being.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

I knew she knew what I meant. “If you have nightmares about what we saw...”

“If I do, I doubt you’ll struggle to know.”

“Scream a lot?”

“Ho-hoooooooooh yeah. Lots of screaming.”

We laughed, until we heard a small, tender, masculine voice from the door behind us. “Hospitality?”

We looked at each other, and the door, and went in. I was content in my heart, for the first time in my life, even as we soothed and comforted the traumatized Geniality. We weren’t likely to sleep that night, but as long as she was there.. That was okay.

********************************************************************************************************

In the morning, after a surprisingly long restful night in the bed with Geniality (nothing but sleep happened, fortunately for everyone involved- the big lug was too scared to sleep without us. The sheer trauma of his experience seemed to drive him into a form of psychological regression, and the two of us essentially had to play parents to keep him from having another breakdown. What? I read a magazine once.), we sat together, close, and ate some of the supplies we had looted a day earlier from the gas station as we planned the “siege” on Repcolt. When he woke, Geniality seemed to be at least at his own age, though he was still unable to really talk without whispering. We decided to jam the door to the office so that the poor stallion wouldn’t see the mess and go mad, and decided to make sure he was alright before we left.

“Geniality?” I asked tentatively as we met him in his room.

“Come in, Drop.” He was curled up in his bed- his eyes were puffy and his cheeks were soaked, and it was clear he’d been crying since we left the building for food.

I trotted over and sat on the bed with him, offering a hoof for him to hold- his hoof curled around mine, and he stared into the distance. “How are you holding up?”

He didn’t respond for a minute, just stared into the nothing before finally answering me, “I don’t know how to feel.”

“How do you think you should feel?”

“I feel like I should be... angry.” he said plainly, and looked at me- his size was immense, enough to make me momentarily shrink back- he saw this, and was clearly hurt by it. “Not at you. Not even at myself. I feel like I should be mad at....”

“Your... sister?”

He was silent again, eventually seeming to search for words. “I was awake, you know. Under all of the chems. I heard the things she said about me. About you.” I cringed. “My sister wasn’t the best pony, but.. I never thought she could be so malicious. I didn’t know I caused her so much misery, or so much shame..”

“Geni...”

“You insulted her town, Drop. You did that, and it drove her crazy. I... I feel like I should hate you.” I looked away, and nodded. “But I don’t.”

“If you want to, I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t care if you do or not.” he snapped, and sighed. “I don’t.. I cannot hate you. I simply can’t. I want to, so badly, but I can’t. All I know is that my sister went crazy because of something you said, but .. it was her decision to let it hurt her.” He looked me dead in the eyes, a fire I’d never seen burning holes in his skull. “I killed my sister because she mistreated you. And Victory. And me. To be honest? I knew there was something wrong years ago, before she met you. Any wrong comment would send her into a rage, and she’d scream at them. And then, at me.”

“I...”

“She wasn’t abusive, per se. More... she was more... fragile. Her ego, I mean. Even as a filly she was fragile.” Bitterness tinged his voice.

I whimpered a little, and he looked at me.

“It is your fault.” I found my eyes going wide, and just stared, speechless. “That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? That this is your fault? That you caused this? That you’re the reason I murdered my own sister last night?” I could only respond with silence, and Victory stood in the doorway, watching- I could practically feel her glaring at him. “Well, you want to hear it, and I’ll let you hear it- you caused all of this.”

I stood, numb, and started to dismount the bed, but was stopped by a hoof. “You want to hear it, then I’ll give it to you..” I just stood, silent, and let him continue. “I heard... you two talking last night. You still think you are the reason this happened, and yeah, you kinda are. But you’re not the whole reason. The blame isn’t all on you.” I kept my mouth shut tight, mind boiling over the accusation, before I felt myself being swept into a massive hug. “At the same time, I don’t want you to just suddenly disappear. You caused all of this. My sister is dead because of you. But I’m not going to let you make up for it by disappearing and dwelling on it. If you care..” he spun me around, and his eyes bored into mine. He knew he was being intimidating, and decided to use it. “If you really want to make up for it, you’ll go to repcolt, save our towns livelihood, and you will NOT go down the road to self destruction. If you want to make up for it, then actually make up for it!” I nodded quickly, as he dropped me and I stumbled off of the bed. “Now go. And when you think back to these events, I want you to use that as motivation to be a better pony! Or else, never show your face in my town again.” He stomped, and I backed out of the door. “You had better be a better pony in the future, Sugar Drop. Or the next time I see you, I’ll kill you.” I fell back, as the door shut, and I saw a glimpse of the pain in his eyes from the speech he gave me. I sat, letting everything sink in, and despite Victory’s attempts to reach me, I was too numb to hear anything but the gentle unicorn’s words, echoing for eternity as I trotted towards Repcolt.

“Be a better pony in the future, or I’ll kill you.”

********************************************************************************************************

Repcolt was only a few minutes trot from Novac; I had gone into absolute autopilot upon departing the town, and it was only when I heard a low-pitched growl that I snapped out of my tranace. I must have been just short of a full gallop, for when I arrived I was streaked with sweat and Victory had only barely been able to keep up.

“Sugar Drop! WAIIIIIT! Celesta you can move!” She panted, as I looked around, drawing my new shotgun, and put a hoof to her lips. “Don’t you shu-” more growling, and she gulped loudly. “What..”

“Hush! I hear Ghouls!” i whisper shouted, trying to keep her quiet.

“What’s a ghoul?” I looked at her, eyes open in incredulity, and facehoof.

“You really don’t know? When a pony gets too much radiation they die, but don’t die. And I hear a few! Long story short, they’ll chase you down and try to eat you. So keep that pistol close and follow me.” I hunkered down, taking the shotty in my teeth, and softly, slowly, we made our way to the central courtyard of Repcolt. It may have been a gorgeous garden vista, once, with green grass, warm colored flowers and gorgeous stonework; as it was, though, it was just a mass of dead plantlife with a damaged statue of Luna and a sign: “To The Moon!” I had to bite back a snicker- given the mythology of old equestria, I couldn’t help but be amused. It was pretty clever, but I didn’t have time to really take it in as a ghoul sniffed the air, and Victory did exactly what we DIDN’T need her to do.

She screamed. And three ghouls immediately saw prey..

“Buck! Run!” I shoved her up the ancient stone steps to Repcolt compound, and we were face to face with two more. The door was only slightly open, and we were more than eager to capitalize on it as I pushed her to run. “In the door!” We charged, and I only just managed to buck a particularly pesky ghoul out of my way before we got into the doorframe and slammed the door shut;bracing ourselves against it, it was only a few minutes which felt like an eternity until the scratching and moans stopped. We waited an additional minute, breathing softly, before we eventually were able to relax and prop up a reception chair to the doorlock for good measure.

“Is that *pant* the monster *pant* that they meant?”

Through my own panting, I shook my head firmly. “I doubt it. Ghouls are ubiquitous out here- if they meant the ghouls, they’d have said ghouls.” I looked around, hearing the smallest of growls. “There are more inside, but one by one they shouldn’t be too bad.”

She looked back at the door and shuddered. “Er... are they all..”

“Rotten? Yeah. Just not all of them have gone zombie. Don’t go shooting every single ghoul you see- if you see intelligence in their eyes, leave them be.”

“You mean there are some of those things that are COGNIZANT?” I nodded. “Thats... oh goddesses that’s terrible! To be falling apart like those things... and to KNOW it..”

“Don’t feel too sorry for them- lucky for them, they don’t have to fear radiation. Heals them, basically their own versions of healing potions. No need to breathe, either, but they still eat and drink. Hence..” She nodded. “Honestly, the crazy ones are more worrisome.”

“Well yes, but what other reason besides they could eat us?”

“Some theorize they are basically trapped in a prison of their own skin. Knowing they’re crazy, but unable to do anything about it. Killing them is generally a mercy.”

She looked uncomfortable, and glanced around the reception area. I followed her gaze, and saw an intercom system. All at once, a crackling I had been too busy to notice sounded off- a deep, gravelly, torn voice echoed over the speaker. “Hey! Smoothcoats! Over here!”

“Smoothcoats?” Victory asked.

“Ghoul slang for non ghouls.” I trotted to the speaker, speaking into the microphone panel. “Yeah. We’re in here.”

“Please, we need your help. Come to the east wing- our demented brethren will fight you, but not much- and go all the way down. We’re in a bunker, please, we desperately need help.”

“Right on it.” I said, resisting the urge to ask for caps.

“Hurry.” it pleaded, and went silent. Victory looked absolutely shocked.

“It... he... his voice!”

“You don’t live for 200 years, rotting like a corpse, without your throat getting torn to pieces by time. Come on, Vic, we have to move.”

“Two hun...” she stammered, and followed me, clearly still in awe. I mused to myself why she’d never seen a ghoul before- she grew up in a hamlet in the wastes, didn’t she?- but I shrugged it off. Must’ve been one of those anti-ghoul communes.

If there was one thing I didn’t stand for, it was racism.

We trotted silently, guns at the ready, and slowly made our way to the left side of the compound. We found relatively few ghouls- one of which, Victory made a point to shoot right between the eyes (what a shot!) with a stamp. “No way I’m letting these ferals suffer.”

Eventually, we hit a metal door- I prodded it, and it opened. When I did, I heard gunshots and the sickening crunch of a melee weapon hitting flesh, and bolted to the door. When we rounded the corner, ready to shoot, we saw.. A ghoul, holding a gun and quivering, holding their gun in sickly yellow magic, aiming at... nothing. I trotted over, tentatively laying a hoof on his shoulder.I found the gun in my face, and he found Charm’s in his. He lowered it, shaking like a leaf. “Oh th-thank the g-goddesses! Please, help, they’re everywhere!”

I looked around, wondering what he was so worried about.

“Who are?”

Victory added, “I don’t see anything!”

He trembled, the nameless ghoul, and looked around nervously. He spoke in a whisper, and his words gave us chills.

“They’re invisible.”

“In.. invisible? Seriously?” I rolled my eyes- not that I didn’t believe him, but ...it seemed a little ridiculous. I began to continue, when suddenly something we couldn’t see tore his throat out before our eyes. Blood sprayed both of us, and took the form of something I’d never seen before- from what we could see, it seemed to be a reptile, possessed of massive fangs, and its - scaly?-face dripped the vitae of its victim as it jumped.

Right at my throat.

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Level Up- New Perk: Piercing Buck- You know exactly where to hit somepony in armor to get to the meat. Ignore 10 points of DT when using melee or unarmed.

Author's Note

I hope y'all're liking my story so far! If not, tell me why; either way, I intend to see this through to the end. Any feedback would be greeeeeeeeeatly appreciated!