Fallout Equestria: Fall of Winter

I feel another harsh slap to my face, and open my eyes wide in shock.

"I said, wake the hell up!" The slaver shouts, spittle flying from his lips.

"Yes, sir." I stand up on all four hooves, and walk sullenly out of my cage.

My name is Winter. I am a unicorn, and more importantly, a slave. I was taken from a life that I will never know, and from a family that I will never have.

My name sucks. Not only is it a reminder of whatever shitty past I had, but of the constant snowfall our little camp of horrors receives. And the snow we get isn't the normal white stuff you'd play in as a kid - no, this snow will melt your skin clean off if you let it.

Nobody really knows where the radiation comes from. Some say it's caused by a slow leak of an undetonated megaspell. Some say it comes from the Dream Factory... Whatever that is, anyway. Long story short, we try to avoid too much snow, and they include doses of Rad - Away with our meals. What good is a dead slave?

My owner, Pax, is one of the most disgusting and foul assholes to ever tread on this goddess - forsaken wasteland. He owns many slaves, but most don't last long under his "care." The way he treats us, I'm surprised that any of us are still alive.

Our work lies in the gemstone mines that lie deep beneath the surface, in the vast cold expanses of the Silver Caverns, where we harvest, clean, and truck load after load of the stones to the Collector, which distributes them to different processing plants that I don't care to name.

We work for tokens, which we exchange for food, so meeting our quota is what keeps us alive. If this shit can be called anything close to living. Some of the other slaves have tried to starve themselves and refuse to work, but they figured out pretty quickly that these slavers didn't give two fucks about whether or not they died. They just chose a quicker route to the fate that will befall us all eventually. The day after, there were new heads on pikes outside of the Cages. If the slavers were trying to motivate us, it did a hell of a job.

"Alright. File into line, and shut up," one of the security workers shouted with a glare. "This morning we have slop. Put your tokens in, and eat. You have five minutes."

We all line up in front of the machine. What they feed us tastes like shit, and sometimes it's made of it (I've been on slop duty before), but it keeps us alive. Or whatever this state of traumatized living nightmare is.

He turned to his fellow security workers, and continues whatever conversation he was leading before he broke to order us around like dogs. The ponies around him laugh at a joke that I can't hear - then he sets his eyes on me.

He strides over to me, looking slightly disheveled. He might just be tired, but who knows? These assholes don't have anything better to do, and most of their earnings go back to their employers through the bar next to the guard house.

I know what he's going to say, even before he finds his way over to me and opens the ugly hole in his face.

"You want some extra food?" He says with a sly grin.

"No thanks. I think I have enough dog shit as it is." I keep moving with the line, and try to pretend he's not there.

He pulls me back around. "I don't think you understand - I'm not asking." Some of the other guards walk over, with the same sick grin plastered all over their faces.

I try to run, but they have me surrounded.

I feel them grab me by my tail, mane, and whatever else they can get a grip on while I thrash wildly, and pull me off towards the security quarters. As I am dragged away, I spot my friends Sandy and Orange try to get to me to help, only to be foiled in any attempted rescue by the other guards standing watch over the other ponies.

Well, fuck.

This was going to be a long morning.