Fallout Equestria: Lost Memories

The squad of bandits had little to no time to react to the smoke bomb being dropped on the floor, obscuring their vision of Ginger Link and the gryphon.

The gryphon held even less ample time before the skin of his throat was viciously intruded upon as the sharp edge of a hatchet met his throat, killing him instantly.

*PLOP*

The sickening plop of a dead body brought the bandits back to reality, ready to shoot the puff of smoke dead until one of them raised their hand in a crystal clear motion to stop.

A strong non-existent wind brushes the smoke away from the clearing, allowing the bandits a clear vision of their captain with a clear as day cut in his neck.

But before a bullet could be shot, Ginger rose his hand in a motion to stop, “I don’t wish you harm, drop your weapons and not another casualty will take place.” He pleads.

But the bandits stood their ground, “Nice try, but you’re dead!” And just like that, the rifles shot their bullets. But as the bullets came within a foot of their target, they were all suspended in the air, as if they were held by some magic.

“What the actual fuck?” Cursed a bandit before releasing a startled yelp as he is hoisted in the air by the same force that held the bullets in their place.

The bullets began circling Ginger at speeds unimaginable by pony standards, almost seemingly invisible. And with a pull of his hand, the bandit was pulled towards the spinning ring of bullets. The bullets piercing the skin upon his abdomen like a school of invisible piranhas, blood spilling out of the wound as the bullets dug deeper as the bandit was drawn closer to Ginger’s body.

The bullets continued to tear into the bandit, sucking in the intestines like a vacuum, resulting in bits and pieces of intestines to join the ripped pieces of skin on the floor as they were helplessly torn apart by the metal teeth.

The other bandits stared in horror as their second strongest fell to the floor, completely cut in half, falling to the floor, the bullets soon joining him.

“Now, I hope you’ll make the right choice and leave me alone.” He pleads, a plea that was met with violence as one of the bandits launched an assault on Ginger, in which the other bandits followed suit.

A sigh escapes Ginger’s lips a he effortlessly dodges a punch and jumping over a heel kick, his own heels kissing the face of the two bandits with enough force to hear their necks snap.

Landing on the floor, Ginger brings down his hand, parrying a punch and answering with his own, disorientating the bandit. And with a strong grip and heave, the bandit was lifted over Ginger’s soldiers, falling on another bandit before both of their chest was penetrated by a boot.

That same boot had met another stallion’s face, kicking his lower jaw clean off.

“You bastard!” Shouted the last bandit, ready for a facial strike, only to be met with a fist through his chest before he could even make a move.

Coughing up a lot of blood, the bandit seethed in hatred, “H-h-how c-c-could y-y-you?” He stuttered on his last breath.

Ginger leaned in, “I have been molded by the hardships of life, you were gift drafted.” He says, ripping his palm out of the bandits chest, allowing him to fall to the floor for his final breaths.

With the last bandit dead, Ginger wa ready to continue his journey but was met with the sight of a red ball of power being formed.

*BAM*

To be continued...