DEFCOИ: Rewritten

by Claymore

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Romance, Adventure, Tragedy, Dark, Human
Length: 20820

Sam Michaels is 'taken' from a war torn Earth and dropped in a new, strange land. Rewritten.

CIA Operative Sam Michaels, a veteran with a very grim past, is saved from what would have been his untimely demise. However, when he awakes, he finds that not only was he saved from a thermonuclear blast, he was completely removed from his own world. Oh, and the locals seem to be mythological beings. That has to be a plus… right? Or… maybe not. At least he took some 'presents' back from his own world.

A/N: Remember that really crappy story I wrote that was littered with plot-holes, inconsistencies and errors in the text? Well, I decided to make it up to the people/ponies that originally followed that and were disappointed by my poor story writing. So here it is.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-01 12:24:29 UTC

Narrow Escape

Narrow Escape

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Date: 17TH OF SEPTEMBER 2023

Time: 18:32 HOURS

Location: ATLANTIC, ABOARD SOVIET SUBMARINE "DUSKNOVA"

Objective: SECURE SUBMARINE/DISABLE NUCLEAR WARHEADS

Sam stood there, his ear drums ringing and his head light. He could feel the metal floor beneath him shake unsteadily, and his disorientation was not helping him at all. He looked up from the floor and could see a hatch on the other side of the hallway opening, the valve lock spinning wildly. Sam shook his head wildly, and recomposed himself, jumping up off the ground. He turned to his left and saw the AK-74u he had stolen moments before was lying there, next to an incapacitated Russian soldier. He kicked the gun up with his boot and caught it in his hands, aiming it down the hallway, where the crewmen on the other end had opened it just in time.

He unloaded the submachine gun into the approaching attackers, and was quite satisfied to see them hit the floor, ridden with various holes. He emptied the chamber and discarded the weapon, before picking up his signature M1911 and running down the hall at a fast pace. He looked down to his watch and he remembered what he was here to do; in an hour, supposedly 'secret' launches were to be conducted around the globe, all aiming at various capitals around the world. Somehow, the Russian president was removed from office by a coup led by the major Commanding Officers of the Russian military. Their first order of business was to threaten the world with nuclear war, unless they surrendered all valuable resources and various other items they want. Unfortunately, America doesn't negotiate with terrorists, and neither does most of Europe. Thats where our buddy Sam came in. They sent specialists from all corners of the world to deal with this mess, and Sam was among them.

The Navy couldn't spare any more assets to Sam besides the INFIL and EXFIL, but that was the way he liked it. He preferred to do these types of things on his own, and he kept the reason why tucked deep back in the dark recesses of his mind.

He sped down the hallway, watching as the sailors attempted to stop the flooding, but being washed away by cold, salty water. He noticed a man with a handgun at the end of the next corner, and he took cover behind the door, flinching at how close he had come to being Swiss Cheese. Little dents had now been left in the metal where he had previously been standing, and he peeked around the corner and left a little hole in the man's head. He slumped to the ground in an ungraceful manner, and that was all it took for Sam to reach the control room. Right before he entered, he threw a flashbang into the room, in hopes that he would catch them off guard. He closed the door and could hear lots of yelling, before a loud explosion. The walls vibrated slightly, and Sam ran in, unloading into the Deck Officers. Several bodies lay on the floor, below a now visibly concerned CIA agent.

On the other end of the room, there sat what seemed to be an automated turret. It turned to his direction and he could see the multiple barrels spin to life. His eyes widened in surprise, and he fell into cover behind a small platform in the middle of the room. Behind him, consoles were being shot to hell by the machine, and he was pinned. He mentally started counting.

'...1...'

The gun was still going.

'...2...'

He could hear the shells clatter on the floor.

'...3... come on!'

He was running out of time. Then, he heard the barrels whiz to a stop. He sprung up from his hiding spot and leapt across the room, onto the thing, tackling it to the ground. It was cooling off before he drew his knife and slashed all of the wires. He got up and dusted himself off before examining the large console before him. There was a key with a small red tag inserted into a slot, and it seemed to be turned into the 'on' position. Sam ran forward and looked up at the computer. He read the Russian in a broken dialect, but he managed to get the word "miscarriage" and "detonation in five minutes". He looked at the diagram and saw what the problem was.

One of the ICBM's had failed to launch, and was already ticking down. The smile he had on was now wiped from his face, and he went pale.

'And here I was, thinking this was going to be a smooth run.'

He felt a pit form in his stomach, and he gave out a completely calm and composed message to the pilot.

"THE THING IS GONNA GO OFF! I NEED EXTRACTION NOW!"

He then noticed the static coming from the other end. He ran back into the control room and examined the read-out for the submersion and surfacing protocols. He found a nice little article on an inflatable life boat with an engine, but he could only get the damn thing on if he was topside. He ran around to the control stick and gave it a hard tug backwards. He felt the entire ship lurch upwards in a diagonal manner, and various objects around the room hit the wall behind him. He then ran out into the hallways where he could see that the other survivors were no longer trying to kill him, but were frantically running about, trying to escape. He picked up a small rifle off of a dead man and took his dog-tags as well as his magazines, muttering incoherently as he ran down the hallway with his new item.

He took a flight up and was now at the top hatch, waiting for the metal coffin to break the water. The lights went out, and a loud creaking noise was heard. He twisted the hatch open, but did so after he ejected the lifeboat. Surprisingly, he was out in a sunset, and not a nighttime environment like he had imagined. What surprised him even further was the fact that the lifeboat was all set and ready to go. He revved the engine and sped away, leaving the sinking boat to... well, sink. He kept going and he turned to look behind him, and there was no boom. He took that as a good sign, and kept going. Suddenly, the loudest splash he had ever heard happened behind him, and in his head he knew he wasn't far enough to escape what would be the huge tidal wave. He pushed on the handle harder, earning no difference from the inanimate object. He turned slowly and saw that the large plume of water had eclipsed the sun.

He started yelling hysterically at the engine, swearing at it multiple times before just focussing on the ocean ahead of him. The roaring of the engine was drowned out by the sound of the incoming water, and he turned just in time to see a wall of water rushing toward him.

"Oh fu-"

Date: UNKNOWN

Time: AROUND NOON

Location: UNVERIFIED

Objective: WAKE UP

Sam shot straight up and emptied a lung-full of water from his mouth, coughing roughly into his hand. He took off his soaked jacket and threw his pistol into the grass beside him. He felt the sun on his back and he coughed harder. Wait... grass? Sun? He looked up at the sky and saw a large bright orb sitting there, casting lovely rays of light down onto him. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the field around him had the greenest grass he had ever seen. He began chuckling in disbelief as he noticed the life-boat behind him. He laid back in the tall grass and let out a happy sigh, coughing a little though. He was alive. How the hell did that even work out? He thought to himself. He was currently debating with himself on how he had survived such an ordeal. He holstered his pistol in his shoulder holster and he slung his newly acquired AK-12 around his back, feeling the gun rest on his black spec-ops turtleneck.

He could still feel pain, so he certainly wasn't dead. The back of his throat was evidence enough already to prove that point. Sam stood up and evaluated what had made it with him, and was happy to find that the small rifle had made it with him. As he was checking up on his things, he heard voices, and he ran into the trees. Through the leaves and branches, he could make out what seemed to be... horses? Horses were examining his boat... and talking.

'Ok... I have to be fucking dead, or at least hallucinating.'

He was left slack-jawed when he heard the purple one, which he now identified as a unicorn, theorize on where his boat may have arrived from.

"Think about it girls, we may have stumbled upon one of the greatest discoveries in all equine kind! Is... that a shirt?" She said as a white unicorn with a purple mane lifted his discarded jacket.

The creatures surrounded it and took in the details, and Sam took that as a cue to leave. And maybe have a psychiatric evaluation. He turned on his heel to leave, but was stopped by a small twig that was crushed underneath his step. He looked down at the wooden rod, and glared.

"You cliche motherfucker." Sam said, a little bit too loud. He glanced behind him and saw six of the creatures looking up at him, amazed. They seemed to only reach his waist, but that wasn't his concern right now. He went on a full out sprint, his AK-12 dangling and smacking against him. The mares realized he was running, and gave chase.

"Rainbow! Get it-" Sam couldn't make out the rest of what she was saying, as he was now running really far ahead.

There was no way he was letting himself get caught by a bunch of fucking girly ass horsies. He is Sam Michaels, CIA Operative Extraordinaire! He's pulled off operations that people would call suicidal! He's stared death in the face and laughed! Hell, he watched 2 girls 1 cup and didn't vomit! Oh wait... wrong example. He was known to get the job done, and there was no way he was going to let himself get caught by these weird pony things...

... until Rainbow Dash shot straight into his back. He felt all of the air get pushed out of his lungs, and he was catapulted through the air into the dirt, several meters away. He gasped and managed to get upright, but a lasso was sent forth from an orange mare's mouth, and it secured itself on his forearm. He gave a hard tug and watched her as she soared above him, her previously determined face transforming into one of surprise.

"Stop!" A female voice cried out.

All of the pursuers stopped, and so did he, to look at the white mare with the purple mane. In a blue aura, she held what looked like his Eurotrash jacket. For a minute, they all just stood there in confusion, before she continued.

"Are you the owner of this... thing?" She said in what Sam believed was a stuck-up tone.

He blinked.

"Yeah...?"

All of them looked at him in surprise, but the white mare was unfazed and continued.

"Well it's simply dreadful! I will produce better articles of clothing for you!" She said with a gleam in her eye.

He blinked again.

"What?"

Rarity then trotted off, muttering under her breath and examining his jacket. That gave Sam enough time to formulate a plan. While the rest of the mares gazed at their friend who had decided to make leave, he began to talk.

"Why the hell are you following me?"

Twilight stopped what she was doing and looked confused, but then her ears fell flat against her head and she looked guilty.

"I don't know... I-I thought you were... *inaudible*."

Then, while the others contemplated this, Sam ran back out into the woods, successfully evading capture. He grinned to himself, seeing as he didn't even have to shoot one of them. A peaceful op is a good op.

A/N: There you go, peoples of the interwebs! I will come out with chapters as soon as possible, and I will follow the main storyline of the previous one, but I'll rewrite and fix all of the mistakes, change events etc. I am doing this to make up for my previous mistake, so there.

Wheres the shrink?

Wheres the shrink?

Date: 1ST DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 05:23 HOURS

Location: UNIDENTIFIED FOREST

Objective: FIND BREAKFAST/EVALUATE CREATURE'S HOSTILITY AND THREAT LEVEL

Sam snapped awake as he heard something in bushes behind him, and he immediately sprung up from his spot on the soft ground, into a crouching position, with his handgun aiming toward the bush. His finger was twitching slightly, and his breathing became short and rapid. His heart rate increased significantly, and he did not know what sort of horror may be lurking in the forests with him.

"Show yourself, coward!" He shouted at the bush, his hand tensing on the gun just in case.

The bush rustled some more, and it was giving off quite the racket. He started going through a mental checklist of all of the things he had seen so far in this strange land, and so far he was getting quite a number of non-existent beings. Then, a small white bunny came out into the clearing, and the Sam's pistol lowered. "Aw, its just a cute wittowe bunny wabbit!" Sam puffed up his cheeks, and made several strange noises. Then, the little bastard threw a rock right at him, and it managed to knock him on his ass. Sam was shocked to see the little bugger toss the thing, and even more so when it began making slitting motions across his neck. He lunged toward the bunny, but it did a flip backwards and hopped away.

"Come here you Monty Python abomination! I'm going to eat you! GET IN MAH BELLAYH!" He yelled, and chased the creature down the rabbit hole. He darted in between the oaken trees and his boots crunched the dead leaves beneath him. He unsheathed his knife and his AK-12 once more dangled freely off his back, but the chase went on.

He could see he was catching up to the little fucker, and he had his knife at the ready. In his head, he was trying to recall the recipe for rabbit stew, and he was going to fucking enjoy peeling the flesh off of the aggressive bugger's little bones.

"STOP!!!" A voice rang out, one that drowned all previous thoughts he had carried with him.

From the trees, a pale yellow pegasus emerged, and her eyes glared at him with an icy intent. The world around him seemed to crumble, and he was dropped into a world of black. His knife fell from his hand, and his AK-12 slid from his shoulder.

Her glare intensified, and he did not notice the little bugger take shelter behind her. Instead, he was countering what seemed to be an all out war on his mental defenses. Endless anti-interrogation training was being decimated by this frail, young creature. He was losing, and he could feel his hands shaking in terror. This being possessed the power to render him useless, a feeling he did not quite enjoy. His facade of a merciless killer, one that he had brought up in combat, the one that would scar and terrify anyone who came in his vision, was brought down. He was rooted to the spot. He could not even blink. Sweat poured down his face, and he could sense that there were others around too, however, he could not remove his eyes from the teal hell that resided within her own.

"How dare you!"

Finally, when all seemed lost, he remembered what hurt would come to him if he failed the tests, if he failed the examinations. The beatings, the water-boarding, all of it. He would not fail. He had come too far to fall now, and he would not let himself be captured, at all costs. Unless he had anything to protect himself with, at least. He managed to bring his hands to his head, and he tugged and pulled on his hair. His heart was beating a thousand times per minute, and he was winded, just by staring her dead in the eye.

"How dare you!"

She began to walk forward.

"Get the fuck out of my head!" He screamed at her.

Her gaze faltered, and she seemed hurt, but it was too late to take that into account, as he could now see what other beings were converging on him. A lasso had been tossed, but Sam managed to grab it at the last moment, narrowly missing his arm. However, a purple aura came toward him, seemingly trying to ensnare him. However, it passed through him, and gave him goose-bumps everywhere. Yes, everywhere.

He didn't even go back for his equipment, and ran.

Into a large unit of golden clad pegasus... pegasuses... pegasus ponies... FUCK IT. PEGASUS HORSIES. He took into account that they didn't seem to be quite pleased, probably once they had been told to do something so simple as to capture some monkey in the Everfree forest. He hurled a rock toward them, and the boredom vanished in the blink of an eye. Then, he watched as the Mane Six charged from behind, and expertly awaited the two rushing groups to close in. He slid underneath the purple one, and the speed of the scene was so fast that he didn't see neither the yellow pegasus, nor the blue one.

He rolled from up from his move, and didn't bother looking back, the noise of pained screams and crashing was enough evidence that his plan had worked. He hadn't counted on Rainbow Dash attacking him, and he was suddenly face down in the dirt.

"Mphukk!" Came his reaction.

Date: 1ST DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 22:35 HOURS

Location: UNDISCLOSED CELL AREA

Objective: ESCAPE, LOCATE EQUIPMENT, FIND PSYCHOLOGIST

"W-wow... your... your dad must be so proud... so proud... that his son kicks like a woman... er... mare." Sam wheezed to Shining Armor, who kicked him in the stomach.

This had gone on for hours, and neither of them stopped, Sam with his comebacks, and Shining with his strikes. After the initial insults and degrading, Shining learned to ignore what Sam said, and was now impulsively kicking him after every sentence.

"Captain, I request an audience with the prisoner." Came a regal voice from the other side of the rusty metal door. The grey, dirty brick around him only served to make this room even shitty looking than it already was. The Captain walked over to the door, and undid the metal bolt, holding it shut.

"Yes Princess."

There was a distinct trotting from the other end, and after a few shushed words, she came in. She was taller than most of the ponies, almost to his height, however, himself being chained in a kneeling position did not help to raise that notion. Upon her hooves, there were golden horse shoes, and her regalia made Sam want to sing 'I Love You' from Barney. It also brought up several memories of the Teletubbies, and one or two of The Wiggles. Her mane was blowing in non-existent wind, and it also seemed to be a supporter of the LGBT Pride Parade. And the same could be said for the multicolored pegasus that was so very fond of physical contact with him. She had wings, and a horn, and somehow Sam found this hard to comprehend, seeing as the many hits he had taken may have left him in minor concussion.

"I want to be alone, if you'd be so kind."

Shining Armor took that as the que to leave, and that left him alone with this 'Princess'.

"Police brutality much? Also, why are you holding me here? Have I done something wrong?" Sam asked.

"'Interrogation', I believe it is called. This concept is relatively new in our modern day Guard, but if it earns results, then I think something is being done right. As for your detainment from the forest, I sensed a large surge of dark magic, and then I was warned by my close protege that a strange creature was found near Ponyville. I do not know if you are as dark as the magic that was used to bring you here."

"Well here's a tip."

"Hm?" She asked.

"Think, because not only did you just disclose your position, 'princess', but you revealed that he was the Captain of your 'Guard'. It seems I am getting more information from you than you are from me. As much as I enjoy these physical therapy lessons, I must make haste. I do not see myself in here much longer, and you should probably double the amount of active guardsmen around this cell. Also, tell the people that named that town to have more original names in the future."

'Princess' let out a short laugh, and began. Sam let a grin play on his face.

"Oh, I highly doubt you will be out of here any time soon, and perhaps it would be best if I let the Captain unleash his full might on you. He didn't make it to Captain for no reaso-"

"Seventy two." Sam said, the cheesy grin on his face fell, and was replaced by one he had worn several times before.

"Excuse me? Is that your name? Well allow me to introduce myself, I am Princess Celestia, and I-"

"No, that is the number of confirmed kills I currently hold. I am sure I have killed seventy two people, and I predict that the true number of lives I have taken is much higher. Has your Captain driven a knife into another creatures throat? One that thinks, breaths, aspires, imagines? Theorizes? Calculates? Has your Captain, willingly taken the life of another, at his own discretion? Actually, you should lower the amount of guards around here, because when I get out, and I WILL get out, I do not want more dead to be on my conscious, Celestia."

Princess Celestia pulled back, horrified by this new revelation. The look in his eyes said it was true, and that alone made shivers crawl up her spine. She ungracefully left the room, the Guard Captain surprised to see her normally neutral expression broken by this strange being. He looked in the room and saw Sam giving him a unnatural look, then the sound of chains being ripped from the floor resounded in the room.

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Sam leapt up from his spot and falcon punched Shining into the realm of 'KNOCKED DA FUG OUT!' and sprinted out of the room, coming upon a dimly lit fork in the path. He took the left, and the orange light from the torches on the walls burned and casted his shadow onto a window nearby, unknowingly alerting the guards within that room. The door nearby was kicked open, knocking Sam back. His head was still spinning from the interrogation, but he needed to get his bearings. He ran away, back toward where he made the left and chose to go right, guards following him in close pursuit. He came upon a different looking door; instead of the familiar rusty bolts implanted on this one, this had several swirls and writing engraved into it. He open the door, and there in the center of the room, rested a large marble looking cube. He heard a woman's voice in the back of his head.

The moment he looked at it, he felt a flash of white behind his eyes, but he dismissed it. He saw light pouring down onto it from the ceiling, and there was a glass sheet laid out there. He ran back out into the hall, and found a conveniently placed "Janitor's Closet" across the hallway. He took the 'extendable' ladder, which didn't seem to have any extendable qualities. The damn thing was made of wood. He set it against the black cube, and got to the top of it, before propping his ladder up once more to try and reach the window above. Sadly, he was off by a meter or two.

"How the hell are you 'extendable'? You're made of wood!" He growled at it, but then before him, it extended.

He gazed at it in awe for a moment, but the sound of a door being thrown open violently behind him shook him of his thoughts. He gazed back up at the glass, and began to climb the miracle ladder.

"Guards! Stop him!" The Captain said, holding his bruised eye with a hoof.

He kept climbing, and a word was tugging at the end of his brain, but he could not figure it out. He decided now wasn't the time to focus on vocabulary words, and he came to the window and gave it a fierce punch.

But he ended up almost falling from the ladder, as the glass held strong against his blow. He looked down to see guards hastily climbing on top of the cube, trying to reach him. Some of the pegasi... I GOT IT RIGHT, began to fly up, but before he could be apprehended, the cube let out a cyan lightning bolt into the glass, and it shattered everywhere. He shielded himself from the hail of glass, and fell from the ladder. After the rain had stopped, he had lowered his arms and ran back to his escape route, narrowly evading an incoming attack from another guard.

Right as he escaped, a cyan barrier formed over the area the glass had been, preventing the guards from pursuing him any longer.

"Guards! Retreat, we are in the forbidden room!" He heard from inside, and suddenly, the guards were flung violently against the walls by the cyan energy.

He looked at the moon above him, and saw it was suspiciously placed above where the dark tinted glass had been just moments before. He did not waste the opportunity he was given by the strange magic, and fled the area. He ran past the large mountain city near the castle he had emerged from, and he ran out into the farmlands. Moments later, the word that had been hiding from him came, and he fell unconscious, landing in the damp grass of the night.

All around him was swirling black fog, and the sound of running was heard all around. It was as if an army was running circles around him, and he could not feel any floor beneath him. Somehow, he was not falling, and he felt as light as a feather. The noise increased, and now the running turned into the beating of wings. Several thousand of them. It became almost overwhelming, and as he spun, he thought he saw a light emerge from the wisps of fog. A cyan light came forward, and it became the glow of another Alicorn horn, the had been glowing with magic. Her hair was long and majestic midnight blue, and it faded into a coat of violet blue. Her wings were flared out behind her, and her cat like eyes gazed into his soul, however there was a lot of that happening lately. She began to fly around him, examining him.

"Who dares interrupt our silence? Are you merely a simple creature, being chased by Celestia to be locked up?" She hissed toward him, but he casually stared back. Her voice was unusually spiteful, but he still did not give two shits.

"I honestly do not care, it's been quite a while since I really did care about something. Everything is a mission, including this. Feel free to do as you please now, I am residing in what appears to be your territory. If you find I am invading your privacy, you may eject me." He said with the utmost seriousness, but toward the end she caught a hint of malice.

Her face softened, and her hard stare fell. She immediately lowered her gaze, and the noise around them disappeared, as well as the zero gravity. Sam now found himself on a floor, and she sat on her haunches in front of him.

"I-I am sorry, it has been quite a while since I have had c-company." She said quietly, her voice now soft, and gentle. She looked so vulnerable, so... alone. Sadness was held in her words.

"I apologize for my rude behavior miss, I haven't been having a productive day up until last night-" He stopped, and remembered what color that magical aura was.

It was Cyan, as was the magic her horn had given off. The voice he had heard, it was identical. He looked down at the mark on her flank that he had been seeing on these creatures. It was a crescent moon, and finally the word came to mind. It fit.

"I am Sam. Thank you for helping me back there." He flashed a genuine smile, one that wasn't a byproduct of bloodlust or insanity. His hand was put forward.

She smiled shyly, and placed her hoof in his hand.

"I am Nocturne."

There ya go! Sorry it took so long, but I hope I got it out soon enough for you guys/girls. So I hope you enjoyed it, the next chapter will be out soon, depending on what my work schedule'll be tomorrow, and if I don't have recurring writers block. Also, GET IN MAH BELLAYH!

A Friend...

A Friend...

Date: 2ND DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 07:00 HOURS

Location: FARM LANDS

Objective: GO EAT SOMETHING

"Nocturne..." Sam said quietly, waking up from his, for once, blissful sleep.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, light from the sun bathing his face in golden light. He turned toward the orb of fire, and wondered why in the hell that mountain couldn't have just been a few feet to the right. The rays were being cast over the peak of the distant landmass, and frankly, it pissed Sam off.

'Time to get up, that Sun isn't going to be moved by someone.'

He got up and did a brief inventory of what he had on him. Clothes and rusty chains. He lowered his standards and accepted the gift of clothing and the makeshift whip-cuffs he had, making his way toward what he believed was a farm. There were fields of corn growing nearby, and it seemed awfully obvious that they were planted there. He continued on his little trek to what he could now identify as a house, beside two large silos and a barn was placed nearby. A dog was barking somewhere in the house, and the sound alone made Sam drop into the dirt and scan the area.

His hand subconsciously drifted down to his missing holster, and he pulled back his hand in disgust, realizing how very cruel they were to take his sidearm. He gazed at the farm-house, and his eyes widened in recognition when an orange mare with a stetson trotted out, yawning.

"Ah, we meet again." Sam whispered with a grin. Perhaps he could hold her hostage, and get his things back in return. And maybe tacos.

He looked over toward the porch, and noticed a rope hanging on a metal loop on the support, and an idea sprung into his mind.

Applejack followed her daily routine; wake up, take a shower, eat, brush teeth, help around the farm. Currently, she was out in the orchard bucking, her strong legs impacting the wooden bark and causing apples to fall into the buckets around the tree. Usually, this sort of thing became a habit, and it was often hard to snap out of it once she had gotten a lot of the trees done in a row. She didn't mind though, for while her body did the work, she would day-dream.

'Caramel...' She thought, her mind in a completely off.

Unbeknownst to her, Sam was sneaking up with the lasso in hand, and he was determined to get his things back. He crept up, preparing the takedown, and he began to formulate plans as to how this was going to be executed. After finally choosing 'just catch the bitch' plan, he ran forward, the lasso soaring above his head toward his target. It managed to wrap around her rear legs, stopping her mind kick. He tugged hard on the rope, and she lost all balance, unsure of what was occurring in the real world. She neighed in surprise, but it was already too late. Sam removed his turtle neck, gagging her with it. He was now dressed in only torn pants and a plain white T-Shirt.

Applejack began to scream and thrash about from behind the cloth, but it only served to make the newly tied bonds around her hooves dig into her flesh. She halted her escape attempts, and laid there huffing and puffing. Sam hoisted her up on his shoulder and walked toward the barn. He kicked the doors open, and looked into the dark, musty environment with a sense of pride. And hunger.

"You know, this must be a terrible day for you so far." Sam announced as he tossed her rather roughly on the floor, earning a grunt from behind the gag.

"But you see, its even worse for me. While you may have these apples here, I don't have jack shit, so I'll tell you whats going to happen now. I am going to leave you in here for a wee bit, then I will take some of your produce. I will come back here and we will then see what I can do to get my things back. Sound fair?"

Applejack let out inaudible rambles and muffled curses from behind the gag.

"Good! I'll be right back!"

Sam turned on his heel and kicked the doors open again, leaving instead of entering. He walked into the orchard and began to take apples from the trees, but he soon realized he did not have any backpack or bag to hold them in. He removed his shirt and began piling the red fruit, his hunger slowly getting worse. He marched back to the barn and this time, he lightly prodded the doors open to get in. He walked in to see an imprint of where she had been, left in the hay. His posture straightened, and he looked straight ahead. Standing there was a large, burly red stallion, a cute little filly with a red bow tie, and Applejack all fairly pissed off looking.

He spun around and ran down the dirt road, his makeshift sack of apples slowing him down. Behind him, he could hear what sounded like artillery shells detonating into the earth, and it was getting closer. Big Mac was closing in, and Sam could see it. Thinking quickly, he did a roll to the left, leading the large earth pony into a tree.

He reached into his makeshift bag and took out an apple, biting a large chunk out of it as he ran. He began to laugh hysterically behind the apple, and the irony of the situation was becoming a little bit too much for him. He turned around and saw his pursuers had now stopped, panting and glaring at him. He smiled cheekily, and turned around. Before him, Princess Celestia and a large regiment of Pegasus Guards began to encircle him.

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"You've ought to be kidding me..." He breathed.

The smile dropped from his face, as did the bag of apples. He knew there was no way he was making it out of this, unless some deity took pity and bestowed upon him a miracle. Behind their lines were robed Unicorns, and they were all facing him.

"Guards! Capture it! I want the creature alive!" Princess Celestia commanded, and the guards slowly closed in.

"Don't I get a lawyer!?" Sam yelled at them in desperation, knowing full well he was going to be thrown away after his imprisonment.

The Guards advanced anyway, lances at the ready.

"Sam, fighting them is no use." Nocturne's voice echoed in his mind.

'I know that...' He thought, and slowly turned to regard at what points the wall of ponies had come to.

'... but at least I'll go out with a bang.'

He picked up the makeshift bag, which now served as a large flail. He charged forward with a long swing and managed to strike down a soldier, his helmet flying off into the others. Sam slid down toward the fallen opponent and grabbed the lance he had previously had mounted to his saddle/chest-plate. He saw an incoming blow and parried it, before the blade got too close. Another lance was flying toward him, but he had just managed to evade it with a light roll. He got back onto his feet and began to fight multiple enemies at once, but a sharp pain in his shoulder drew away his concentration. An arrow was embedded into the flesh of his upper left shoulder, and there was a light blue glow upon it, however it fell after a few moments. He dismissed it and tried a surprise tactic, leaping onto the tops of his enemies, them being at a short height.

Somehow, his tactic worked, and left the frontline of Guards severely disoriented. He managed to bring down another guard by swinging the lance into his face, and the rest of the soldiers regained their senses and attacked. Another sharp pain erupted in his back, and another in his thigh. A blow to his knee sent him down, and the soldiers gathered around, their weapons trained on him. His lance was cast aside, and Princess Celestia approached. The soldiers pulled back, and allowed the large alicorn into the clearing.

"Captain Shining Armor, come here." She said, a hint of malice in her voice. The Mane Six had now arrived.

Hesitantly, the Guard Captain came toward her. Now, they were the only three in the clearing. Sam knew it was over for him; rot in prison, or die. Internally, Sam had been waiting to die for a long time now. He didn't want to take his own life, he wanted to have it taken in battle, honorably. Or at least in a blaze of glory, and he now decided that now was the time for this blaze of glory. As the Captain walked by, Sam leapt up from behind and locked him in a choke-hold, also unsheathing the Captain's dagger and directing it to his throat. Sam gulped.

All was silent, and boy, did Celestia look pissed. I mean, come on, your Captain was bested TWICE. Dos! Do you know how embarrassing that would be, your most skilled warrior defeated TWICE in one week. She was going to teach both of them a lesson.

"I-I am going to w-walk away, and no one has to die. No one move!" He managed to get out, the grip on the knife tightening.

He backed up slowly, and there was some form of telepathic communication between the Guards, and Celestia as they parted to allow him and Shining Armor through. Then, an invisible purple hand pulled the knife from his palm, and the Captain from his arm. He stumbled backwards, stunned. Big mistake. He looked forward and saw Celestia, her horn glowing with a powerful orange light.

'Fuck.'

A large ray of light was cast from her horn, and the light enveloped Sam and the area around him. The pain was almost unbearable. It felt as if his skin was being burnt off, and the fiery magic licked at his flesh and at his body. He could no longer feel his own weight, and the blistering fire washed all around him. He let out a cry of agonizing pain, and it echoed throughout the entire orchard. After an eternity within the fire, it had disappeared. Celestia turned away as his cry faded, and now all that rested there was a deep crater, smoke rising from it.

Twilight Sparkle and Rarity both felt the contents of their breakfasts reaching their esophagus', and Pinkie's hair deflated, while Fluttershy stood in shock as to what had happened. Applejack, despite the dark event that just happened, wore a smug look upon her face. Rainbow Dash was adequately terrified, and hid behind Fluttershy.

Then, much to their terror, a shaky hand came out of the crater, grasping onto the scorched earth and pulling up a large, burnt man.

He was shaking slightly, and sweat was dripping from his flesh. His shoes were gone, and the only remaining clothing he had on was his now burnt and tattered pants. A knee-guard hung loosely, the metal plating melted onto the cloth. His right foot staggered forward, and his head was bowed. Water dripped from his eyes, and a pained expression was upon his face. He lifted his head and he fell to his knees, crying out.

"KILL ME! JUST KILL ME!"

He fell into the dirt, his chest heaving. Pained gasps escaped from his mouth, and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. Celestia was obviously stunned by the fact he had survived not only her most powerful attack, but the fact that he indeed wanted to lose his life. She gave him one final glance, before she turned around and began to trot toward her carriage. She felt pity for him.

"Guards, bring him back to the dungeon. Captain, you are to have a word with me tomorrow." She sighed as she boarded her transport, and was taken home.

Sam was once again in the black fog he had been introduced to the night prior, and he shut his eyes. The sound of... nothing replaced the windy environment he was in, and he reopened his eyes. The sky was black, and beneath him was a grey rocky surface. He looked up and saw an Earth-like planet hanging in space, a very small star orbiting around the ball of dirt and water. He turned around and saw Nocturne sitting alone, facing the world. He could see on her face she was recollecting memories of the past. He could see she was some distance away, and he turned his gaze back to the blackness of space.

"Why is it you want to die?" He heard he ask, and it was as if she was right next to him. He turned his head and saw she was now approaching him.

He once more faced the void.

"Do you know what its like... to lose everything?"

Silence.

"My friends... my family..."

He turned toward her.

"My life revolved around that. Not achieving a goal, as I had done so in the past, and I was quite satisfied with what I had earned. No, my life revolved around the lives of others. Its a bit ironic, how I have such a perspective of life when my own profession calls for the taking of lives."

He noticed her backing away slightly.

"Calm down, I am not going to hurt you. I don't think I even can, seeing as I am in your realm, or domain."

He sighed, then wondered how he was breathing on the moon, but dismissed it. He sat down on the dusty rock, and began to fumble with the tie on his suit. Somehow, he was dressed in a formal business suit and a red tie, but he tucked his suspicion away with his disagreement on the atmosphere of this moon. His tie was continuously floating upwards, and it was quite irritating.

"I do."

"Hm?" Sam hummed.

"We...I know what it feels like, to lose everything..." She said softly, her eyes watering slightly. A small bead of the salty liquid ran down her face, but it was wiped away by Sam's finger.

"I'm sorry." He said, and he was hesitant to put his arm around her, but did so anyway, doing his best to comfort her.

She burst into tears, and she tucked her face into his chest. Her sobs made his heart break, and he ran his hand through her hair.

"Its okay..."

She pulled back, anger present in her face.

"NO IT ISN'T! I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

He stood up, and brushed his suit off. His face of compassion was replaced by one of stern seriousness.

"Because I care about you! You are about the only friend I have! I lock myself away to prevent others from getting hurt, something I learned long ago..."

He stopped, and he looked at the floor in guilt.

'Friend.'

An embrace came around his back, and ripped him from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry."

He sat down and closed his eyes.

"Me too."

Memory Lane

Hospital Hell

The train shook lightly, various items stacked on the shelves beside the window fell onto the hard floor. It was Seven Thirty PM, on January 27th 2019. Outside, the snow was falling onto the relatively quiet streets of Kemerovo. Those outside were going about their daily lives, or, nightly lives as it would most likely be addressed. A cold breeze swept through the warm train car, earning several mad glares and quiet curses toward the doorway. A man in an out of place dark grey duster walked through the aisle, receiving several quizzical and odd glances here and there. He found a seat at the end of the car, and he faced the window, his black ushanka covering his face from the rest of the passengers. The other people in the car forgot about him, and began to go back to their previous activities, like boredom or sudoku. One or two of the people were playing on smartphones, and a man at the back was reading a newspaper, his hoodie concealing his face as well. A small child erupted from the bathroom and began to play with a loud wind-up toy, much to the annoyance of the others. The little boy had stopped what he was doing when he noticed a little glint from underneath the man's duster, and carefully walked over to it. The man, however, was not paying attention. The boy managed to lift the flap of the duster, and was given a full view of a Makarov, still warm from use. Not only that, but there was a hint of blood on the man's coat.

The mother of the child noticed her son was no longer in the aisle, and she could not see him. She stood and looked over at the duster-wearing figure, and began to call her son over. As she did this, she too noticed the gun and the now dripping blood, as did the other passengers. The man came to, and saw that his gun had been exposed. Silence overtook the train car, and the man's eyes widened in fear as the man at the back, who had been reading, stood up and drew aim with a concealed MP5.

"Chyort."

The silent weapon released the cold loaded ammunition as he unholstered his gun, and all of the bullets piercing through his jacket and into his body. Blood sprayed all over the back of his chair, and with each impact he could feel himself losing energy. He managed to get two shots off before he lost control. The train car became chaos, and everyone scrambled out of their seats to get to the exit.

Date: 3RD DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 08-09:00 HOURS

Location: HOSPITAL

Objective: DETERMINE OBJECTIVE/DON'T GET STABBED WITH NEEDLES

"Twi, I think it's wakin' up." A raspy voice said, further pulling Sam from his physical damage-induced sleep. His eyes fluttered open, and he took an uneasy breath. He lifted his head slightly to get a look around the room he was in. He seemed to be in a hospital bed, surrounded by more small little horse creatures. More specifically, the ones that tried their sailor moon-esque attack on him. His head slapped the pillow roughly.

"Fuck..."

He could feel a headache coming on, and at this early in the morning too? Damn. He dragged his hand down his face as one of them attempted to introduce herself, or himself, Sam wasn't paying any attention. Like... at all. He was too busy thinking about this 'Nocturne' character. As he recalled the events that had played out in her dream-world, a purple unicorn was babbling about some form of teleportation or something. Sam tried to sit up from the bed, and found that he was restrained from his waist down by straps.

'Wait a second... how the hell am I still alive? I can remember that tall one zapping me with some sort of light, and pain... but thats it?'

"Are you even listening?"

"Nope."

The unicorn sighed and pinched the bridge of her muzzle, with her hoof...? Sam was more fascinated with her hooves than whatever the hell she was talking about. He then took notice of how there were only two guards at the end of the room, so if he were to break out it would be extremely easy. He took in a large breath, and the excruciating pain in his chest made his previous thoughts on escape quite obsolete. Suddenly, a pink pony leapt forth onto his chest, crushing his already bruised ribcage. She started to mouth off like a machine-gun.

"HimynameisPinkiePieandIwaswonderingifyouwerefromanotherplanetbecauseyoulooklikeanalienbutyoualsolooklikeamonkeythatwasmixedwithaponyandbecametwohybridcreaturesandgrewclawsandlostallofyourhairan-"

WHAP!

The other Mane Six gasped as the human struck Pinkie Pie across the face, a loud smack resounding from his action. Suddenly, Rainbow Dash flew forward.

"Hey Bub! No one smacks-"

WHAP!

Now that Sam had established he wasn't in the mood to hear any crap, he holstered his 'bitchslapper' and closed his eyes, listening as the purple unicorn tried to calm her friends down. He then fell back into sleep. Or tried. He wouldn't try to escape now, as he was not in the proper condition for it.

"Hey, you aren't sleeping now! Tell me about yourself! Anything!" The purple mare exclaimed and shook him violently. His hand instinctively wrapped around her throat and squeezed, effectively stopping her attempts at rousing him.

He cracked open an eye to glare at her.

"No."

He released her, and she gasped for air as her friends came closer to him in an aggressive manner.

'They brought this on themselves.'

He grabbed Rainbow Dash by her wings and threw her into Applejack, who crashed into Pinkie Pie. Fluttershy now focussed on him and began to use her stare. Somehow, Sam managed to halt her mental assault and grabbed the now panicking Twilight Sparkle. His hand reached for the bedside table, and some stupid doctor must have left a pen there. He took the pen and pressed it up against her throat. They all looked at him in fear, anger, and anticipation. A look he knew all too well. The guards too looked quite eager to see some action, and had their spears at the ready.

"Calm. The. Fuck. Down."

Slowly, the took their seats on the floor, and Twilight audibly gulped. He took the pen and jabbed it into the cloth strap, tearing it. The guards saw this as a chance to advance forward, but the pen flew back up to her throat. He slowly sat up, and swung his legs over then mattress. Once his feet touched the ground, he hoisted Twilight up, and made sure that the other unicorns did not have visibility of the pen, lest it be taken from him.

"Now, I will leave, and you will tell your Princess to stop following me, unless you would wish this one here to get stabbed to death with this pen. Understood?"

They all nodded, except the Guards who believed his only way out was behind them. Idiots. He held Twilight close to his chest and dove out the window, greatly underestimating how much distance there was between him and the floor. He angled his fall so he would land on his back, and managed to distribute the damage to a less injured part of his body, however it still hurt like a bitch.

"FUCK!" He coughed, then pulled Twilight up and out into a road. Apparently, now he was in some sort of financial district in some upper class city. He could tell these ponies were stuck up by the manner they held themselves in. He quickly located a cart and threw his hostage in, following close behind. Unbeknownst to Twilight, his weapon was discarded during the fall. He removed the hospital gown and wrapped it around her eyes, blinding her and placing his hand over her mouth. The snob in the carriage was about to scream for help, but he met the business end of a fist. He had now noticed the were on a noticeably steep hill.

Sam muttered something under his breath, and Twi just caught the end of it:

"... damn fucking technicolor horses."

The MP5 fell from the man's grip, and he removed his hat, placing it on the ground beside the dying body. The hoodie he was wearing was smeared with blood, and a small little hole was placed in his left shoulder. Previously, the newspaper had hidden his injuries, but now they were in full view. The hooded man grabbed his enemy by the throat, and pulled him up toward his obscured face. An M1911, doused in the hooded man's own blood, was pointed to his face. His hand was shaking and trembling from the amount of blood loss, and the cold weather wasn't helping either.

The duster-wearing man tried to push the gun away, but he too was succumbing to his wounds.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" The hooded fellow weakly said, then pulled the trigger.

Sam's hand drifted toward his shoulder, and he rubbed the exposed scar tissue. His breath was coming out ragged and erratic. He looked around the cart and noticed a small canteen in the traveling snob's bag, and he took it, drinking the entire bottle to calm his nerves. The hand that was covering Twilights mouth had been accidentally pulled back, and she let out a blood curdling scream. Sam's eyes widened as he threw his hand back over her mouth. The carriage stopped. Distinctive trotting came toward the door to his right, and he dragged the snob up, preparing to throw him into the doorway.

"You know, I heard Celestia has got a lot of trouble on her plate."

The voices were coming closer.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, first some dragon/pony thing escapes from her dungeon, then ponies start going missing in towns like Appleloosa and Ponyville."

'Ponyville? What the fuck...' Sam thought, not one to enjoy unoriginality.

"Bro, I heard its vamponies. I know they are supposed to be myths an' all, but I am garlic-ing up my house like there's no tomorrow, colt."

"I hear ya." The other chuckled, and the door opened.

"SUPERCALAFRAGALISTICEXPIALADOCIOUS MOTHERFUCKERS!" Sam yelled as he threw the pony.

"AH!" They both blurted out as they were given a face full of snob each. Sam then threw himself into the wall opposite of him, more specifically, the one that was facing the steep slope. This is gonna be a bumpy ride. The carriage lurched forward, and Twilight started screaming hysterically, not being able to remove the cloth from her eyes. She eventually undid it with her magic, but it didn't do her much good seeing as they were heading straight for a wall... at 100 MPH (160 KMH). What they did not know, was there was still one pegasus in the reins, and he did not know what the hell was happening. You see, he was dubbed by his colleagues as Sleepy Stevey, for obvious reasons. Right now, he was rudely awoken by the cart he was driving flying down the road at top speed. In his confusion, he flapped his wings upward to knock the reins from his mouth. This ended up sending the entire craft into the air, and it got an impressive air-time before crashing into the forest.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Sam yelled at the top of his lungs, and he managed to damage his ribcage even more.

Date: 4TH DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 00:02 HOURS

Location: CRASH SITE

Objective: ASSESS CURRENT MEDICAL CONDITION

Sam's eyes opened, looking up at the roof of the flipped carriage. His vision was blurry, and he could feel something warm and sticky running down his scalp. Semen! Blood was pooling next to him, and it seemed the unlucky colt had crashed through and was self-impaled on the debris. A low moan escaped the colt's mouth, and it looked like he was in his final moments. He could see moonlight pour in through the shattered window, and outside there was some sort of shuffling.

"R-Rainbow Dash! Thank Celestia you are here! Wait... whats wrong with you? Stay back!"

...

A scream. Wing beats. Silence.

...

...

...

After he was sure that whatever presence that had been there left, he released a long breath.

"What is this... my fifth day here? God damn it." He muttered.

There was a loud bang on the hull of the carriage, and it vibrated slightly. Sam's heart caught in his throat, and a figure pried open the door beside him. Sam shut his eyes, knowing full well he was in no shape to fight off whatever had come. He guiltily hoped that the poor bastard across the carriage would be taken instead of him. To his relief, there was another scream, and it wasn't his own. The sound of bones crunching and blood splattering filled the carriage, along with the sound of gulping. Sam cracked open his eye just a little, and he could see a prone figure with a little red bow, greedily lapping up the now deceased colt's blood. He recognized her as the little cute filly at the barn, Applejack's relative somehow.

As if she sensed she was being watched, she stared at him with bloodlust. She saw right through his guise, and began to trot over to him.

"Fuck off!" Sam said, sluggishly backing up into the cushioned chair.

She kept coming, a bloody smile coming onto her features.

'Fuck fuck fuck fuck-oh?' Sam thought as his hand touched a discarded piece of wood. He swung it as hard as he could into the little filly, and it knocked her into the broken glass window. He could see the pieces of glass go through her neck, and she was rooted to the spot by the glass. She went limp.

He sighed. That was fucked up. He just killed a chil- HOLY SHIT IT'S STILL ALIVE, KILL IT! The creature reanimated and thrashed about like a wild animal, and Sam repeatedly smashed it with the board of wood. A splinter managed to sink into her flesh, and a small smoke began to rise from her fur. She screamed and shrieked, much to the discomfort of him. He didn't know how long that little splinter was going to keep this up, and the glass shards seemed to break off the frame by the second. He painfully pulled himself up and ran out of the carriage, taking the wooden weapon with him. He limped away, and once he was in the treeline, the sound of metal and wood shattering was all it took to drive the injured man up a tree.

"Supernatural vampire fucking horses now... oh dear god, magical vampire horses, flying vampire horses too... magical flying vampire horses..." He went on quietly.

He stayed up in that tree with his thumb up his ass until the sun came up, and even then, he waited a little bit longer. He thought for a little bit, and reasoned that he wasn't going to stay sane without a proper objective. Eventually, he came to a conclusion.

"I need to find Nocturne, where ever she might be. I think the only viable method of escape would be with her help... why the hell am I talking to myself?"

And with that, Sam set off. But he took the wood with him, god damn fucking monsters out there.

A/N: That Semen bit, I started typing some weird ass shit after that. O.o I deleted the rest of the text, but left that bit after a small bout of laughter.

Supernatural-er

Supernatural-er

Do you know what dying feels like? Everything around you starts to fade, and you become numb. A coldness envelopes you, and you are left with a multitude of emotions that you would not normally feel. But dying is only physical, right? No. No, because to really die is to have the entire mental structure collapse in on itself. Some men die with dignity, with honor. Those men are not my victims. Horror floods their veins at the whisper of my name and at the 'inhumanity' of my acts. The strongest of men cower like small children when I am present. My victims know Death, will know Pain, Despair. However, my victims are left physically unharmed. Why? The most amazing, astounding performance the human mind can display, is the one of self-destruction.

-Markus Gernt

(SAMAEL as dubbed by the Central Intelligence Agency.)

Date: 4TH DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 14:23 HOURS

Location: 20 CLICKS FROM THE CRASH SITE

Objective: FIND NOCTURNE

Sam trudged through the forest, and he knew he was lost. Perhaps it was the fact that he could no longer see any hints of civilization, or maybe it was the fact he could no longer pinpoint the frame of reference for the cardinal directions. Or it was just the fact he was fucking lost. His stomach ached in protest, but he pushed onward despite the pain of hunger. Fatigue was fighting his effort, however, and it was becoming harder to go further. Sam took deep breaths, and it was getting harder to focus. A quiet snap resonated at his 7 o'clock, and he pretended not to notice it. In actuality, he gripped his wooden weapon tighter, splinters piercing the contracting flesh.

SNAP

'One of those fuckers is behind me...'

Step...

Step...

Step...

SNAP

Sam spun around with his makeshift club and whacked an orange figure into the shade of the surrounding trees. He detected more movement around him, and he sprinted for the nearest light source. The damn trees were making spotting the tangos difficult, and he wouldn't let himself get caught with his pants 'round his ankles. He found a small clearing and the sun shone brightly down onto it. He barreled into the middle and kept a defensive stance. The orange pony who he had already familiarized himself with flew into the sun, propelled by some newly acquired black, leathery wings. As soon as she touched the rays of the sun, smoke rose from her body and she pulled back into the darkness.

He could see her glowing cat-like eyes glaring at him, and he promptly gave her the universal 'fuck-off' gesture. She pulled back, and as Sam was going to sit down and relax, he could see hundreds of those eyes stare at him from the blackness.

"OH FUCK ME!"

Sam began to panic, and he looked up at the orb of light in the sky, attempting to formulate a plan. He began to panic, and the fatigue that had plagued him came in full force, knocking him straight out of the realm of the awake.

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Sam's hand gripped the chilled metal rail, his gloves providing no shelter for his already cold hands. Puffs of hot air condensed ahead of him, and the dark night sky surrounded him. The snow fell onto the rooftop gently, the flakes landing and sticking together, forming the blanket of white around the city. The breeze blew through, and Sam could feel hot tears falling from his face. His phone sat on the railing, seemingly watching him. A crowd had gathered in the street below, all staring up at him with curiosity, which then turned to fright. He took off his jacket and placed his feet on the ledge over the railing. He looked up at the moonlit clouds, then back to the orange-lit streets of London.

He could hear the maintenance door on the roof open, and shut from the wind. The cold current bit at his exposed arms and neck. The tears were freely falling, and he recounted the events prior to this moment. David trying to stop him, Omar trying to stop him... Ashley. He cried openly, and his face twisted in sadness. A voice called out from behind him, the voice of Ashley.

"Sam! Don't do it! Please!" She cried out.

He looked back at her, her once beautiful face smeared by mascara. Her golden locks hung limply on her face. Inside, Sam felt a pang of guilt for having done this to her. He looked at the lights of the city, then back down to the street.

"Please! Come back inside! You need to calm down!"

He turned toward her, and despite the overwhelming cold, he kept alert.

"I CAN'T DAMN IT! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT!? I LOST MY PARENTS ASH! I LOST MY FAMILY! I LOST YOU, TOO!" He screamed, then turned back to the ledge.

"I tried to keep it inside, but the longer I held in, the more damage it did to me. I loved you! I still love you!" He shouted off, tears still falling. He looked down at the people below, and he took a deep breath.

"If you love me, then you'll get down from there!"

"You were all I had left Ash."

He let go of the rail, plummeting from the ledge.

Sam stared in shame as he watched himself fall. He looked at the prone form of Ashley as she stood, rooted to the spot where he had fallen. She disappeared in the black fog, and Sam now found himself staring at his own body as it lain in the middle of the road, paramedics rushing to move him. He remembered this day. The day his entire world changed.

"Is this the burden you carry? The one you hold so close to yourself?"

He shook his head.

Sam turned around and saw a human woman, one with a similar color scheme to the one he identified as Nocturne.

"Nocturne? Why are you rooting through my head?" He asked in a somewhat angry tone. Hopefully, memories of his laptop and bottles of hand-lotion did not appear to her.

She walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the reality around him disappear, the cold night becoming nothing. He was now standing on the moon, watching a familiar being cry endlessly in space. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he had no physical form. He looked down at himself, and found nothing to be there. As he looked back up, he could see Princess Celestia imprisoning her in the large marble cube, and he was stricken by several images of another Alicorn, one that was hiding a terrible secret. Her fangs slipped over her lip, and she sunk them into her prey. These images were thrown away by the touch of another presence, and he found Nocturne standing beside him once again.

"You are not alone, Sam. But you must remember, the only way to move on is to learn, not to forget. I will make you learn."

Images of a battle between Celestia and another black pony rushed his mind, then the feeling of loneliness. He tried to reach back out to her, but he could feel himself being taken away from her memory.

Date: 4TH DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: UNKNOWN

Location: UNKNOWN

Objective: UNKNOWN

Sam bolted upright, but immediately regretted this, a burning pain spreading across his chest. He silently cursed to himself, then looked around. He was now in some sort of living room. There was dim light pouring in from the windows, and he could see that he was tied down. Again. He looked around, and after listening for a bit on whether there had been someone else in the house, he swore freely, and struggled against his bonds. The ropes around his wrists left broken skin where they had been tied, and blood was exposed against the rope. The strong strands had held together, and it proved futile to resist them. The table he had been tied on was pretty durable.

He gave up, and laid back. A noise broke his relaxation, and he tried to roll off the table. He managed to get on the ground... by flipping the table onto himself. The heavy oak held him down, and he now realized something.

'I need to think more often.'

His chest was aflame with pain, and he looked up, fearing what danger could lie ahead of him. He brought his eyes up from the dusty floor, and across the room of wooden furniture and paintings, he saw something that made his soul curl up in a ball and cry. There, in the doorway, was the little monster from the carriage. A menacing grin. Pointy teeth. Red bow. Ah yes, this certainly was the little hellion.

"FUCK OFF!" Sam tried to say, but it came out more as: "PHAK UFF!"

The little demon was coming closer, and soon it would be upon him.

"Mmm... mah sister was talkin' 'bout you, a big blood bag. Ah'm wondering how you'll taste." She said as she licked her lips.

As the little monster leapt into the air, a loud BANG raped Sam's ear-drums, and the monster was now in front of his face, her eyes boring into his. Above her face, in the center of her forehead, there was a hole. As Sam gazed through it, he could see a man holding a handgun. The barrel was pointing at him through the hole, and Sam tried to back-up, but he was still weighted down by the table.

The man came closer to him, bending down to meet his height. Sam could see his features clearly now, and the man seemed to be in his mid-thirties. He was wearing a suit that had several blood-smears and stains on it, his tie done up in a bandanna. Underneath his eyes, there were streaks of black, most likely made with mud. His face was narrow and elongated, and he had a stubble coming in. His eyes were bloodshot, and his pants too had been tattered, however, he still had a two other shirts. His black hair was combed back, and his shoe laces had been untied. A golden, though broken, watch rested on his wrist.

The man looked at him, his brows furrowing and his blue eyes staring at him in examination.

"Are you real?" He said quietly, nearing a whisper. The gun had been set down on the floor.

"What?"

"I SAID ARE YOU REAL!?" The man yelled at the top of his lungs, redirecting the handgun to the middle of Sam's head.

"Shit, shit! Yes! Yes I'm real god damn it!" Sam said, reasoning that he himself did not want to join the fate of the twisted vampire child.

The man then grinned, shooting upward, an insane flare in his eyes. He put the pistol back at his side, then bellowed:

"THEN WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE ABODE, FELLOW MAN!" He began laughing to himself.

However, this sporadic change of emotion returned, as he now looked extremely hostile. He set the handgun against Sam's forehead once more.

"We shouldn't let this one live!" He hissed to himself. Sam identified his accent as a Received Pronunciation, or more commonly known, a British accent.

"No! He is different!" He begged... himself?

"HE WILL BETRAY YOU!" His other self yelled at himself...?

"NO HE WILL NOT!" He bellowed back at himsel-Holy shit, this guy's a looney.

"Schizophrenia!" Sam blurted out randomly, the man turning to him, both of his consciousnesses staring at him in confusion.

"Ah, I forgot to introduce myself! I am Brandon Wright, MI6 operative extraordinaire! At your service!" He said with a bow, then turned his back on Sam and began talking to himself again. He set the gun upon the counter, now fairly disturbing.

"Brandon Wright works for no one!"

"Brandon Wright is me! Me! Not you."

"No, 'tis me!"

"You!"

"Me?!"

"Me!"

"You!"

He began to throw blows at his own body, and had failed to notice that in his insane, unstable behavior, he had knocked a knife off of the table over toward Sam. The knife had slid ever so graciously, jabbing itself into Sam's cheek. Though it had hurt like a bitch, Sam managed to free himself in an unrealistic display of Hollywood acrobatics. Sam managed to roll the heavy set table off of him, then cautiously stood up. His gaze moved to the gun on the counter, and beside them there was a small orange bottle of little white pills.

He tiptoed to the two items on the counter, and he found that the man had stuffed some of his own shirts and cloths into the dish-washer, and pots and pans that had been arranged around the room in an awkward manner. Sam grabbed a white-collar shirt, and he grabbed some jeans that were a little too tight for his tastes, but he looked proper now, not like some bum that had been set-on fire, then crashed out of the ceiling. He found some Caterpillar boots, and donned them without socks, all while this unstable man beat himself in the living room.

He contemplated whether or not he should pacify the threat, or end it. Pills, or gun. He didn't see himself as a bad guy, and he often chose to be morally aligned, so he took both the pills and the gun. He slipped the gun into the pocket of his... the man's jeans, then popped open the lid to the orange bottle. He spotted the man panting, lying on the ground in exhaustion. However, this did not stop the verbal attacks at his alter-ego.

Sam knelt down to the man, and as much as he wanted to cut his wrists open with a knife, he popped the pills into the man's mouth. The man thrashed about wildly, but a hard punch to the jaw and the pills were gone. Sam watched as the guy lapsed into unconsciousness, then walked around the house, searching for things that might be of use. However, before he could get going, the little devil that had 'died' earlier was up and kicking, so to speak. Nonetheless, it still made Sam scream like a bitch, then bust a cap in that bitch's ass.

"Fucking self-reviving mythological bitch ass pony vampire horses." Sam muttered, still not fully comprehending the true nature of how fucked he was.

The howls and calls of the undead horde drew closer...

Defensive Measures

Defensive Measures

A/N: I had a fuckin' HUGE swig of Nyquil because explosive diarrhea and vomiting is awesome. So bear in mind when I posted this chapter, I was under the influence of it, and I passed out on the keyboard right after doing it. Also, I am sorry for the small chapter, but I needed to put in a slight bit of foreshadowing and remind you that this fic is not dead. BTW, I loved Amnesia.

"Fuck... this MRE tastes like shit."

Sam chomped loudly on the bland and quite frankly, terrible food that he had found stored in the kitchen. A couple hours ago, Sam had finished the defenses and barricades set-up on the various weak-points of the structure, along with hoarding the weapon closet that was hidden quite hastily. Now with an MP7 resting on the table, and a opened MRE container, he was ready to meet, or reintroduce himself to the Mi6 Agent that he had tied up nicely aboard the coffee table. As Sam bit into another spoonful of the goop, he shuddered slightly, not liking what his taste buds were relaying back to him. The audible groaning of the agent came to his ears, and he gazed over at the struggling man.

"Hey, hey! You'll break the table, not to mention your own table!"

The man quit his physical protest and looked down toward his hands, which were bound to the table legs. The glass beneath him creaked and he could hear something crack.

"Now, I'll introduce myself. I am Sam. Now you."

Silence.

"Ah. the silent treatment. Nevermind, I already know who you are. Mr.Wright, was it?"

The man stared back with inhuman hate.

"We are actually on the same side here, and you should be thankful I haven't left you out there."

This finally sparked something, "What? Who's out there? Who are you working with, Yank?! You must be a defector!"

"First, let me tell you that what lies out there is by FAR, a worse fate than being tied to a table. I was working with the United States Government, CIA more specifically, when my mission took a sudden turn for the worst and I awoke in the middle of the damn woods." Sam growled at the last bit.

"There are things out there that exist in the realm of mythology, and not just that, but some asshole decided that adding a wee bit of vampires would be an excellent idea. You incapacitated one of them with a neat little hole to the brain."

"Incapacitated from a gunshot to the brain?" He said, still not accepting what was being handed down to him.

"Yep. I threw the little fucker down the basement, after I relocated all of the supplies of course. Did you know that the basement managed to find itself underground as well? It was surprising."

Suddenly, banging drew away the attention of both of the men, and they could see from the dining room, that the door beside the kitchen was shaking and rattling, however, was held back by some boards that had been installed on the walls.

"Now, in order to survive the night approaching, I need to trust you with a firearm."

"You mean MY firearms!"

Sam grinned.

"Yep."

Sam looked at his watch (the one he took from the bedside table of the bedroom ) and stared at in confusion.

"Hey, would you mind checking the time... oh, you're tied down. Nevermind, I'll have a peep at your watch." Sam said in a manic cheerfulness.

Upon seeing the time, Sam's face paled, and he retreated backwards. His breathing became erratic, and his hands tightened on the MP7 within his hand. The wind outside began howling viciously, and the house groaned against the wind. Sam darted over to the windows, and peeked through the boards.

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"Jesus Christ..."

Sam leapt toward the door, and the banging on the basement door increased.

"Sam! What the fuck is happening?!"

Sam did not reply, instead rushing up the stairs, where more banging followed. Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking filled the house. Groans were given by the boards on the doors and windows, and Brandon saw little stubs emerging from the spaces in between the boards.

A muffled voice yelled from above, "FUCKING MONSTERS!", and was followed by the sound of rapid discharges from the MP7. Then, the sound of wood shattering came again from above, followed by rapid thumps down the stairwell. What Brandon saw was nearly unrecognizable. An equine creature that was given a horn, and bloody bat-wings had emerged from its back. The creature tumbled down the stair case, little holes littering it. More movement from upstairs. Rapid banging and thumping. Glass breaking.

'What the hell is going on?!'

The lifeless form of the purple unicorn with wings suddenly reanimated, and as it was about to stand up from its position, Sam crashed down onto it, smashing it and gaining cracks and snaps from the thing. Sam stumbled about, then with an axe, approached Brandon really quickly, the lust for blood evident upon his face. Brandon flinched and shut his eyes, awaiting the death from his own axe. However, the table legs beneath him gave way, sending him into the floor. His back screamed in anger, and a sharp pain made itself known in his shoulder as a piece of glass was embedded into it. He opened his eyes and he saw the form of his L22A1 Bullpup. He looked up at Sam, and saw that there was fear and panic set upon his face.

"They're here."

Firepower

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Firepower

-V-

You can play this for extra effect.

Alone.

That was all he ever was anymore.

Alone.

Through the trees, the Northern winds howled and wailed, their eerie song surrounding him. Winter was closing in fast. There would not be much time. A man sat alone on a fallen log, the long-dead wood providing a seat in the snowy forest. As the wind pushed against his jacket, he cursed, and pulled his gasmask back on. He rubbed his gloved hands together quickly, and kicked snow over the once lit campfire. Turning around, he saw his kill lying on the ground, still uncooked. Muttering under his breath, he knew it would be best to leave it behind, there was no need in pulling the extra weight. As he turned to leave the camp, he grasped the necklace around his neck, brushing his thumb over the metal plate, a name hastily carved into the shiny material.

Alexei

He did not remember who it was for, or why he had it, or if it was his own name. He hadn't the time for things like that. What he did remember; he was being followed. He shook his head, and pulled his SVD out of the snow. Maybe if he could escape, he could think about that. He began jogging through the trees, and while he didn't know where he was going, he knew that it would be better than here. With his ice-pick tinkling against his equipment, he stopped.

Suddenly, all was quiet.

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'Alexei' went silent, his heart sinking. The forest around him seemed to grow, and the sky was darkening rapidly. Phantom noises echoed around him. He could hear something in the trees. A low hissing sound soared above him, and his head shot up to see nothing but a dark grey sky. Hugging his SVD to his chest, he continued slowly, now painfully aware of the crunching his boots made in the snow. His pulse rose, his eyes dilated. He felt as if there were something watching him, and he became extremely frantic. What started out as a small jog, had now turned into a full-on sprint. He ran as if hell was upon his heels. Fear gripped his body, and the feeling of dread consumed his mind. His breathing turned into panting, and he slowed to a stop against a tree. He looked up, and expected to see a figure watching him from the branches above, but there was none.

SNAP

His SVD jumped to attention, movement registered to his right. Spinning to face his pursuer, he saw only open forest. He spun around once more, checking all angles. His panting faded, and his fatigue was washed away once more by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He gritted his teeth tightly, and picked a random direction, running blindly. He could hear movement behind him as he ran, but he knew that if he turned to face the noise, he would die. His foot snagged on a root. He fell. His vision went dark, before the familiar sensation of falling gripped his senses.

He opened his eyes, and caught sight of a large tree speeding toward him, or him toward it. He hit the trunk, and a loud crack resonated through the area, the birch snapping in the middle. He landed in the snow, his ribs screaming in pain, his mind in shock. He could hear the tree falling. Move! He rolled away, despite the protesting from his torso. The tree landed against another, both of them toppling. He heard a light buzzing toward his left, and spun the right, his SVD in mid-aim. He barely managed to catch sight of a dark blur, and let out a shot.

An inhuman scream bored into his mind, the trees trembling and the ground shaking.

He closed his eyes, hearing the buzzing from all around.

He gripped his ice-pick tightly, and spun to his left, driving it into an unseen foe. The screaming resumed, and he quickly let out a shot from his rifle to the right, a loud thud against wood several feet away. He reached for his knife, and he flung it forward, feeling the blade embed itself into another attacker. For a moment, there was peace.

As quickly as it ended, it began again, a hissing noise coming at him from behind.

"Chyort."

He opened his eyes, and he saw a black form crash its cold feet onto the center of his chest. The force from the blow sent him flying backwards, and in his final moments of consciousness, he could see glass-like hexagons forming around him, their bright glow devouring him.

<>

"Run!" His teammate said before being consumed by the horde. He threw a frag into the mob, but it did little to slow them down. He whirred around, and threw another, and another, before running towards a machine within the barn, throwing a weapon within, and finishing off the remaining walkers and crawlers.

In a room, alone, upon a mound of dismembered body parts and ashes, not to mention the occasional pike, sat a very distant looking FBI operative. His coat had been torn and tied around one of his legs while his tie was done in a bandanna around his forehead, blotches of blood were sprinkled around his clothing, and in his hand he gripped a 'Pack-a-Punched' M14, the Mnesia.

He spotted a remaining undead monster shambling towards him, and he launched himself above the zombie from a car, aiming his rifle.

PEWKH-PEWKH-PEWKH!

He noticed time was running short, and he sprinted to the Double-Tap Root Beer machine, jugging down a soda, then reloading. He did a quick inventory of his equipment, then switched to his alien Ray-Gun, popping in batteries and grinning.

His teammate was revived by a strike of lightning, and stood there looking around with a standard issue M1911.

He was a seasoned veteran of the apocalypse, he stood in front of the fine line between destruction and salvation, he was the true bastion of mankind, and he was-

"You fucking noob, you didn't even get past round 52, fucking loser, LOL." He said as he disconnected from the game.

16 year old Kyle Mann stood up from the couch, and his weight fully exposed itself to the world. Standing at 5'6 ft, he had pale blue eyes, light blonde hair, a heavy red face, and at least 110 kg of pure gamer.

The gaming world feared him, "Slayer69", the destroyer of forums and the Zerg Kin-

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! WHERE ARE MY HOTPOCKETS?!"

The lumbering roll of obesity maneuvered around the couch, and set off to the kitchen, returning with a beloved mini-corndog. Life was good. He plopped down on the couch and took an all-mighty bite out of his mini-dog, then licked up the grease running down from his mouth, picking up the controller once more. He could hear his mother say something under her breath as she came and laid down the plate of hotpockets beside him, and then she strode off into the living room.

As he was playing, he didn't notice the polygonal orb enveloping him and his console. As his character spawned, he disappeared.

Pain.

Why was this sensation so familiar?

You know, several times, I have awaken to this damn feeling. Pain. I have dealt with it several times, the nerves in my body protesting the governments decisions, and President Brain is doing a shitty job. For years I have taken beatings from numerous sources, even more scars. The thing about pain is; it means you still draw breath. Usually, that is good news, but I cannot find any 'good' side to this type of pain.

I am dying.

My eyes slowly peeked open, and my eyes were assaulted by an asshole who resides in the sky, otherwise known as the 'Sun'. As I looked around my surroundings, I found that I wanted to un-look at them. Blood spatters on the walls, shell casings peppering the floor, bullet holes etched into the walls and the occasional disembodied limb here and there.

Processing.

Data processed. File under category: FML.

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You see, this shit, surprisingly enough, happened a lot back when I was in the P.D. But they don't really prep you for being part of it. Unwillingly, I wrap my arm around a dislodged staircase-rail, and pull my sorry ass off the floor. Looking around me, I find nothing but gore and the occasional shell casing.

B.

E.

A.

Utiful.

Oh wait, there's something I'm forgetting. If I can recall correctly, there used to be an Englishman here. None of these bodyparts seem to be human, so I guess- What the fuck that foreleg is crawling away on its own please tell me I am fucking seeing shit. OH MY GOD. CRUSH, KILL, DESTROY!

Stomping on the strange thing, the life fades from it, and it 'dies.'

I also forgot that at the moment my body feels like shit, and that little stunt there is not helping.

Oh, look, it's that MI6 guy's dismembered head. Party hard.

SWAG.

Placement

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Placement

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Kyle was never one to go outside often, and was most commonly found within the confines of his household, exploring virtual worlds and playing with friends that he had never before met outside of his artificial life. That is why when he regained consciousness in the middle of a VERY dark forest, surrounded by hundreds of peering eyes, reawakening in a new, muscular fit body, his mind nearly gave out in stress. However, after the initial minute of sitting there, fearful of what these unseen monsters were to unleash upon him, he realized that he had the 'gay ass fucking pistol' from his favorite game strapped to his hip. He quickly pulled it out with foreign reflexes and flew into a routine that he had practiced within the gaming realm, flying forward with a knife in one hand, and a pistol in the other, he set about making it out of the damn forest alive.

One of the creatures leaped forward, and were it not for the luminous red eyes, he would not have seen it coming, nor would he have driven the blade into the skull of the creature. To his right, something had shifted, and his pistol had shot up towards it, releasing eager lead bullets towards the hidden foe.

The sound of a crumpling body was enough to give the results he needed.

He spun around once more, a fragmentation grenade seemingly flashing into his hand, before it was sent flying into a crowd of the shadow creatures. The explosion sent them flying, and blood caked the floor. He sprinted forward, leaping off of a rock, and madly slashing anything that moved with his knife. One of the creatures leapt behind him and chomped down onto his shoulder, and he could feel every one of the jagged teeth pull into his flesh. He lifted the pistol and leveled it, releasing another round and knocking the creature loose.

He could feel the pain of the bite as he ran, and he could taste copper in his mouth.

This was real.

There's no respawn.

This is immersion.

This...

"This is fucking awesome!" He hollered as he went.

Cutting through them, he did not noticed them rising again behind him, limbs reforming and building themselves at odd angles. He ran through the treeline, and checked his newly acquired clothing, a ripped up FBI coat, but otherwise normal pants and dress shoes. He heard something behind him, and in the pale moonlight shining through above him, he could see bloodied, shambling masses, slowly picking up speed as the quadrupedal monsters reformed.

He gasped, then grinned.

This was going to be awhile.

He ran back, his knife trailing behind him, and let out some very chilling chuckles as he got to the dark deeds.

Standing amidst the wreckage within the now torn apart house, Sam fashioned himself a bayonet to the end of a well-hidden L85A2 with a kitchen knife and duct-tape, but he heard something shift in the living room.

"Have you come back to haunt me, tan creature?!" Sam yelled as he ran into the living room with malicious intent splayed on his face.

However, what he saw was... unexpected.

There, in the corner, the 'thing' sat, its hooves cradling its head as it cried. It was actually gut-wrenching, and pitiful.

'Dafuq?'

Things like, 'Don't go near the thing', and 'Shoot it again' ran through his mind but instead he slowly approached.

"S-stop! N-no m-m-more! Ah'm s-s-orry!" It sobbed. She curled up harder and her sobs wracked her form.

What.

Slowly nearing it, he kept his weapon trained, and crouched down low. She was still fairly demonic looking, what with the giant, grotesque fucking batwings sprouting from its back, and the clearly razor sharp teeth within its mouth. She noticed him approaching, and recoiled further.

"P-please! D-don't hurt me a-anymore!"

'Shit man, this got emotional.'

He awkwardly leaned forward and embraced the thing with a hug, feeling it tense up as he grabbed it. However, a few awkward pats and murmurs of general nothingness, and it calmed down and stopped crying. He was about to retreat when she wrapped her forelegs around his waist and hugged him. For a minute all was silent.

"If you try to eat me, I'll tear you apart."

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Silence dominated the town, barren streets and dead buildings. It appeared as something from a cartoon, and while Alexei could wrap his mind around the demons that had plagued him, this was something else entirely. Under pale moonlight, he scanned the buildings for anything alive.

But there was no trace.

Small pieces of furniture and accessories littered the roads. There was not a sound besides the howling of the wind. Roaming, he came across a shop, where once majestic dresses were torn to shreds. The paleness of the area was depressing, how he had come so close to finding someone alive. In front of his feet, he saw a small little scooter cast aside, red markings along the handle bars. He sighed, and went down to pick it up, before something else caught his eye. In the darkness, he saw an orange light, and gazed upon a large tree, burning and smoking in the center of the town.

From the open door, embers soared through the air and rained down upon the town in a horrific grace.

This place was dead.

Still searching, he came upon a large, almost Russian-styled building, with a large atrium. He walked inside, and that was when he found the true nature of what isolation this town had. Within, markings of blood and refuse littered the floors, unrecognizable limbs lying here and there.

Had he not seen the sight before, he would have ejected his bowels.

Having ripped apart his jacket and exchanging it for bandages and cloth, he pulled lightly on his stained drab t-shirt, and set his sniper against the wall. He relaxed for a moment, and set down his backpack, pretending to rummage through it, before a very powerful handcannon sprung out of the bag and aimed towards the rafters.

"Move and die, приятель."

Slowly looking up, he met the eyes of a very surprised... horse? The horse had a crossbow tied to its foreleg, and with the other, propped it up.

There was only silence.

"You move, and you die, Diamond Dog." A voice said behind him, as the feeling of cold metal pressed against his neck.

...

"выебать."

"What?" Said the voice behind him.

"It meaning 'fuck' in English."

"What's English?" The horse in the rafters asked.

...

"What tha fuck?"

Before anymore words could be exchanged, a white hoof flew through the darkness in front of him, and struck him in the face. He went limp, and fell on his side.

Everything went black, but before it was faded, he heard, "Spike, darling, be a dear and drag this fellow to the shelter, we cannot leave him hear for the vamponies,"

A repeat,

'What tha fuck?'

Back in Saddle

Back in Saddle

Date: 7TH DAY SINCE ARRIVAL

Time: 08:00 HOURS

Location: 'EVERFREE' FOREST

Objective: UNKNOWN

"Listen, I know you think you're making sense, but you're really not."

"No, you listen! Ah'm saying that Ah have no idea what made this happen, 'cept it happened at Canterlot."

Jacob sighed, and folded his arms. They had been walking through the forest since Jacob had found she wasn't completely psycho, and he needed intel. Nocturne, whoever she was, helped him, and he decided it would only be right if he helped her as well, and from what he was hearing, she needed help.

"Where's Canterlot?"

"Up where the Princesses live."

"On the Mountain?"

"Eeyup!" She grinned, flashing a plethora of sharp teeth.

Shuddering, he looked up from the clearing and spotted a very disturbing vista of Canterlot with plumes of smoke rising  from it. He checked his backpack and took out one of the several waterbottles he had taken from the Englishman's house, and put the bottle against his lips, swallowing big gulps of water with his head back.

Applebloom, however, inched forward watching his big meaty neck gulp down the water and licked her lips. She wanted a big ol' bite out of that meat, how wondrous it would taste in her-

"Applebloom?"

"Huh?" She shook her head.

"Snap out of it."

"Sorry," She grinned.

However, as he was about to say something, he noticed that there was signs of carnage all over the place, and little bits of flesh strewn on trees. He kept his rifle at the ready, and gave Applebloom the universal 'shut the fuck up' signal. Steadying themselves, they pursued the mutilated corpses.

Kyle stood atop a mound of twisted flesh and odd limbs as he panted.

"God damn, how many kills did I leave off on...?"

After scanning the bodies, he shouted victoriously, "Fuck it, over 9000!", and broke down into breathless chuckles. However, he remembered that he couldn't truly kill them, and with his miraculously unending supply of 9mm ammunition from nowhere, he was having quite the time, but it seemed at the end of each 'round', more and more arrived, and it was getting quite difficult.

"I powder my Cockatiel for the ribcage SLAUGHTER!" He yelled.

Suddenly, one of the creatures below broke through the weight of the hill, and snatched onto his leg.

Screaming in agony, he took his knife and with bloody murder on his features, hacked the monster into oblivion with the blade. A hoof rose out. Another. And another. Kyles eyes widened. The entire mound exploded in a frenzy of hungry beasts, and the Gamer-turned-Soldier flew into the air.

As he soared, he saw them surging forward as a wave of potential death, and began firing randomly into the horde. It did nothing to stop them, and the monsters that fell were trampled on by those behind them. He landed in a tree, and quickly learned that if he set foot on the ground, he would be overwhelmed by the vampires.

He leapt from branch to branch, tree to tree, and soon, he could hear the trees behind him toppling over as the horde pursued him. Then, he saw a beam of light coming through the canopy. Then another, and another. The trees were clearing, he needed to get out in the sun, NOW!

Reloading, he dived from his branch, into the mob, firing like mad and stabbing everything he saw. To his right, a mouth came forward, and he filled it with his knife blade, sending blood spurting all over his face. With every time he killed them, they became more and more hellish looking. Fur began to fall off, the wings were torn, but he kept going. He plugged a monster with his last frag, and pushed it into a group of them. In a big explosion of meat and blood, he was sent back, and the horde closed in.

Scrambling to his feet, adrenaline coursing through every blood vessel, he punched, bit, stabbed, slashed, hacked, chopped, cut, scraped, gouged and clobbered every one creature in his path. He could see daylight.

"I WILL PUT MY PAIN INTO YOUR SOUL!" He screamed to a small white pony with pink and violet hair, and he meant every word. This place was giving him a darker vision of reality, and while he referenced other things, he found them becoming true.

'GO!' His mind screamed.

Something caught on his leg, and he turned around. A small orange horse crawled up his leg, a purple mane to accompany rows of dark teeth and eyes from the blackest of hells.

She bit into his thigh, and he roared in pain. Punching wildly, he broke its grip on his leg, and crawled ahead, where there was a figure standing with a British assault rifle, firing into the mob. The man saw one of them leap from the trees, and he impaled it with a bayonet. Kyle looked up to his savior, then felt hooves grasp his chest, and begin pulling him away from the slaughter, while the other Human ran in with his bayonet and began slashing.

Kyle passed out with the thought of how awesome it was to watch another pro do it.

"What the fuck is that guy's problem? Is he smiling?!"

...

"Applebloom, don't kill him and don't fucking do that in front of me!" Sam yelled as they ran, the unconscious bloodied man being carried by Applebloom's unnatural strength. While she carried him, she lapped up the blood on his shirt and clothes, and narrowly avoided sunbeams.

Sam spun around into a crouch, and let down another torrent of lead as Applebloom ran past. The creatures would not stop, and no matter how far they ran, they were always on their tail.

"'Bloom, where the fuck do we go?! We need buildings!" Sam screamed, then got up and put his emptied magazine into his back pocket, pulling a new one from his backpack and slamming it into the rifle. He turned and ran, following Applebloom as she turned towards the edge of the forest.

Ponyville. Finally.

"Applebloom, give me that guy and get ready to follow me!"

Running into the sun, he got a good four meters before he noticed no one was following, and looked back to see 'Bloom still in the dark, cowering from the sun.

'Fuck.'

He ran back in, ripped a blanket out of his backpack, and wrapped it around her before she could protest, then ran into the sun once again, hearing her hiss in fear. He ran and ran, until it became hard to lift both the weight of the small pony and the bleeding man. He spotted a large building in the center of town, and with the man semi-consciously wandering around, and Applebloom wearing the blanket as a cloak, they walked to the building.

"APPLEBLOOOOOOM!" A voice screamed from the forest.

"Th' damn blood-bags have mah sister!"

"We need to go after them!"

"I saw one of them punch Scootaloo in the face!"

"Yeah! He punched me right in the nose!"

"Come on! I need to find Spike and turn him before the others get to him! Em... no offense."

The vamponies began arguing and a tall dark figure stood there with a scowl on her face. Even when made evil, these ponies were still adorably annoying. She unraveled her wings, and magic began to pour out, soaking the vamponies with very dark magic, healing their wounds and rejuvenating their bodies. Without blood, they were becoming tireless and weak.

The tall figure put a hoof on Twilight's head, and an idea sprung into her mind.

Twilight grinned, and began to salivate.

"Do not fight them friend, you will end up like me, клетке."

With a gun to Rarity's head, and a gun pointing up to Doctor Whooves who had a crossbow on Applebloom, Applebloom nearly biting Spike and Rarity holding a dagger to Sam's throat, the situation was obviously tense.

In the back, there was another Human locked inside a storage closet, his face visible through the glass window that had been knocked out.

"Now, please, white pony that I have met before and greatly despise, why I shouldn't shoot you dead?"

"Well that is quite obvious, for Time Turne- ehm... Doctor Whooves shall kill the little vampony."

"Подумайте приятеля!"

"What?" Everyone asked in confusion.

"Think, idiots! Outside you have монстров, demons waiting to kill all. Why you no work together?"

"Listen, comrade, this pony had blade on me before my gun was on her, 'kay?" Sam said without looking towards the Russian.

"No, listen here, Rushan, I clearly spotted a threat and I am doing my best to stop the destruction of my species as I know it, is that so wrong?"

No one noticed Kyle regaining consciousness, and grabbing the Russian's sniper against the wall, pointing it to the white pony.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Everyone began shouting.

Suddenly, the doors to the town hall were thrown open wildly, and standing there in the center, was the resident town Librarian, and while it was supposed to be early afternoon outside, it was currently pitch black. All weapons spun to face her. Her face showed a deep hunger, and she eyed everypony in the room carefully, before landing on Rarity.

"Rarity! So good to see you! I thought you would be joining Sweetie Belle and I?" She asked mockingly.

"Ah, I fear not darling, those very grotesque looking wings clash with my recent dresses," She said with venom.

"That's fine. Oh! Applebloom, your sister is worried sick! Go back outside, I'll call you in for dinner once it's ready."

Applebloom was rooted to the spot, however, staring at Twilight in horror.

"Hey, purple, I don't really mind if you're gonna start killing people, but I really don't want to be caught up in your strange demonic vampire horse shit." Sam said, waving his left hand around.

Sam didn't notice Kyle looking at him in awe from his spot.

Suddenly, Twilight flew forward with incomparable (other than Rainbow Dash) speed and lunged for Kyle's throat, but in the small, minuscule amount of time, the Russian, now free, stole back his sniper and fluidly stepped ahead of the purple vampony's flight path, and in the blink of an eye, a thunder crack rang through the building. The bullet tearing through the internal organs of Twilight Sparkle had proven that bullets, while ineffective against the vamponies, were still a force to be reckoned with. The twisted version of Twilight flew past them, into the back while behind curtains.

Sam took his AR, and let loose an entire clip into the crumpled mess of blood and curtains that Twilight was under.

Kyle cringed, then grinned.

Two pros. Epic.

Sam turned to the door, and even with the light of the lanterns and the small fires around the room, it would not be enough to see an attack coming.

"Too much darkness, too many entrances, not enough wood. Resources lacking, problematic,"

"Mass Effect was such a shitty game..."

"WHAT!?"

Sam ignored his comment for the moment, there would be a time for bickering later. They needed to work as a team if they were to survive.

"What're your names?" Sam barked.

"Applebloom of the Apple Family!" The little hellion responded with a grin. Shudder.

"Doctor Whooves, at your service." The brown stallion bowed.

"Rarity, sadly at your service." Rarity sneered.

"Kyle, Kyle the Killer, Slayer69, I'd like you guys to know that I hold up to my name and I have over 9000 kil-"

"Alexei."

Sighing at the band of misfits that he had assembled, he rubbed his face.

"Alright, I'm Sam, and if the CIA taught me anything... we're still fucked."

Everyone seemed to lose hope in that second.

"But, while I would like to be fucked, this is not an appropriate fucking. This is rape, so I'm about to give you a lesson on rape protection, 101."

Rarity snorted.

"What does this have to do with anything that is happening?"

Sam walked over to the bullet riddled curtains, and pulled a twitching Twilight from it, her vampired face held into the light for all to see.

"Because this is what's doing the raping. And the first rule to rape prevention," He grunted as he chucked her body out of the open door, "is you don't fucking let them into the house." Sam dusted off his hands.

Kyle looked annoyed. He didn't like people telling him how to do his job.

"You." Sam said, pointing to Kyle.

"Yeah?"

"You look good with getting dirty," Sam tossed him a miniature pitchfork that was lying on the ground.

Kyle looked at him with a 'WTF' face, to which Sam nodded.

For the next hour and a half, they pushed furniture against the door, hammered the small amount of planks to the windows, and built a last stand position, while Sam informed them that while Applebloom seemed to be normal now, she did need blood to survive. While Rarity was accepting of this, she clearly stated that she would not be treated as the rations she had stored within the shelter. Kyle was assigned to 'fuck up anything that is stupid enough to attack the door' duty, and Alexei reunited with his sniper in the bell-tower.

Meanwhile, Sam took a book from the office in the upper levels of the building, and found an empty log page, and he began writing,

Night 1, we've established the basic ground rules for survival in this hellhole, and I've got a band of misfits to help out with our prolonged survival. If we're lucky enough, by Night 3 we'll be able to move to Checkpoint Alpha, the hospital where I was being held previously, then we make our way to the Castle, where I will give the Princess a thorough interrogation regarding the location of Nocturne.

P.S. I think Rarity sucks cock. Not sure.

P.P.S If she does, I will be conflicted about what to do about that.

FUBAR

FUBAR

Sam opened his eyes, but immediately, he felt something was absent. As he observed his surroundings, he confirmed his suspicions. The familiar black fog of Nocturne's dream realm, but something was amiss. As he roamed the plane of nothing, he realized that is what it was; nothing. Nocturne was not here.

"Nocturne!"

Silence.

Overtaken by dread, he quickly felt that he had lost the only being he could trust. He began to rapidly search within the black clouds, but his search was fruitless.

However, as hope began to fade, he spotted her magic within the realm, the familiar blue-green glow calming him. But as he neared, he found that she was not where her powers were present, instead, a window open, showing him a strangely recognizable sage cube, towering far above him. As he gazed at it, attempting to remember where he had seen it, he could see himself run into the room, in panic and desperation, and quickly ascend the cube. As he did, Royal Guard burst in from the door, and tried to apprehend him.

But then, the window began to glow green, and a sense of anger radiated from the window.

Large tendrils of arcane magic flew from the cube, striking multiple guards, before destroying the window above him, setting Sam free.

'Nocturne was in the cube...'

Feeling immensely stupid, he cast his gaze back to the object, and his eyes widened as a familiar white alicorn stepped into the room, and began to take apart the cube. The process of doing so was slow, but he knew that within days this object would be diminished.

*I am dying, Sam.*

"Nocturne? Where are you?!"

But her voice did not return.

And he awoke.

Sam's eyes creaked open, and he lay on his makeshift bedding, taking peace in what was supposed to be early morning outside. However, from what had happened last night, he highly doubted that the sun would make an appearance anytime soon.

"Get behind me!"

"Run Spike!"

"NO!"

As he sprung from his spot on the floor, the first order of business was to completely disregard his personal hygiene and ran to the door, ensuring the table kept it closed. His 'bed' was no more than a collection of scrap paper and absent table cloth, but ignoring the pain of sleeping incorrectly, he checked his wounds from the night before, groaning in suit. Scabs had filled the lacerations, and they had become annoying and itchy.

"Ugh..."

He went over to the corner of the room, buttoning up the grey dirtied collar shirt, he picked up his English rifle and slung it over his shoulder. He still had two mags, roughly 60 rounds. He was going to need some more bullets soon. Sam had barely slept with the occasional bout of gunfire or screaming from outside the office door, but he assumed that the group was in control. Moving the table, he heard glass shatter and a shout.

He had assumed incorrectly, and that was proven when he slowly pushed the door open.

Blood here, blood there, unconscious Doctor Whooves, crying Applebloom and two disgruntled and fatigued men standing in the center of the room, weapons pointed to the door. Something bad was going down.

Not to mention an eerily large quadruped standing in the doorway.

'Oh... that looks like bad news.'

Vaulting over the handrail, he plummeted down to the stage below, landing with his fist in the floor.

It was badass. Not to Sam though, on the inside he was stringing together excessive profanities.

Shaking his hand, he stood and gazed at the strange figure at the entrance. Alexei and Kyle had their guns trained on it, but it was apparent they were fearful. Shaking legs and unsteady weapons were never a good sign. Applebloom was still crying, Spike was behind the stage curtains, making a spear out of a broken table. He seemed to be in a hurry too, was very obviously pissed, and he too had puffy eyes.

Where the hell was the white unicorn?

"What's this about, then?" Sam asked.

After a moment, Kyle the Killer spoke, but never took his aim off the cloaked pony. Sam was tightening his grip around the rifle, and his lips pulled to one side as looked at the nervous soldiers.

"Boss battle..."

...

"What?"

Suddenly, the figure shot forward and kicked Kyle into the wall, actually sending him through it. A stone wall. The pony didn't slow down, the cloak spinning as it turned to the Russian, but the graceful motion was interrupted by a .308 round piercing straight through the creatures face. Blood spurted out into a mist, drizzling Sam's face in red.

It flew backwards, and Alexei took that as cue to flee back up the stairs Sam had come from.

It was in vain.

As Sam pulled up his rifle, the creature flew up to the balcony in a gust of air, sending Sam backwards off of the stage and landing then in front of the rugged man. The glow of red magic sent the sniper into the fragile railing, bursting through the wood in a shower of splinters. His body arced in the air before crumpling on the ground beside Doctor Whooves. He turned over slowly, cradling something beneath his form.

"ARGHHHHH!" He screamed, holding his disfigured leg in his hands, bone poking out from the flesh of his thigh.

The creature glided down toward Alexei, large draconic wings sprouting from its back. As it neared him, a toothy grin stretched on it's face, hunger seen in non-visible eyes. It landed on the stone floor softly, and began trotting towards him in a teasing manner.

The Russian responded by desperately backing away from it, but he knew without intervention, he was dead. He pulled his Makarov from the holster on his opposite thigh, and attempted to kill it, only to hear a familiar clicking.

Eyes wide and heart skipping, Alexei slumped backwards.

Lucky for him, Sam didn't like this creature very much.

RA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!

The 5.56 rounds did their job, embedding themselves within the strange creatures flesh. It tried to move away, but in doing so, caught more of the bullets, and crumpled away from the man as he passed out from shock. However, it didn't go down, and was merely slowed. This wasn't like the vampires outside. As he stopped to check on Alex, the being stood once more, and that toothy grin glinted in the dim light of the candles. Sam turned to only catch a glimpse.

"Fuck."

It flew forward once more, but Sam had been anticipating it, dropping low beneath it as his legs bent towards his sides. As it soared above him, the bayonet on his rifle caught on the flesh of its underbelly, disemboweling the being. Dark oozy blood, flesh and torn cloth slapped against Sams sneering face.

The monster slammed into the floor beyond him, and stopped.

He strode towards it, bayonet raised, hell blazing in his eyes. He came close to it, and used his boot to pull back the tattered cloak, and within, he found a peacefully dead face of one who looked remarkably like Nocturne. In the dim light, he could not tell her face apart from that of his guardian angel, and the grip on his weapon loosened, his bayonet falling.

Sam stood, panting, then grunted and muttered incoherent sentences on something about a large pickup truck. Now without the cloak, the large alicorn flew up in a strange and inhuman manner and slammed roughly into his side, out of the safety of the town hall. As he soared, the being propelled itself forward with unimaginable speed, blowing out all of the candles and fires within the building. It was black within.

More bogeys in the air immediately caught wind of his adventure and shot off after him.

He flew back, and crashed into a tree, but upon breaking through the hull, was surprised to see that it was actually a building. And that it was on fire. Shelves of books were burning in the blaze, and Sam noticed his arm was catching flame, quickly putting it out. As he got his bearings, he noticed the hole where he had been cast through was above a stair case, and ran towards it. Another vampire flew in, and he adequately responded with a burst of rifle fire, sidestepping the motionless corpse. As he ascended back to the hole, he grimaced at the pains of his old wounds coming back, but he pushed through.

As he came to the hole, he looked up and saw the same figure from before fly within and kick him backwards. His weapon collided with him, the business end of his rifle poking into his abdomen. He slammed back into one of the shelves, sending it falling down towards him. As it slammed against the floor, the wooden floor below gave way, and the shelf fell down with it.

The unknown alicorn walked around the flaming shelf for a moment, before taking flight.

Sam sat against one of the dirt walls below, cradling a stab wound with one hand, while holding the blade with the other.

He lost consciousness as the rest of the tree gave way, and collapsed into the basement.

'At least I tried.' He thought as his head slumped.

Coughing, Sam could feel his body shivering, and for a burning building, it was strangely cold. His eyes opened, and saw a massive mound of wreckage and ash ahead of him, but through the hazy smoke, he could see daylight shining down on the ruins. Sam blinked slowly, and his head lolled to one side as he felt himself going out again.

Lights and images flashed in his head.

A vision of his family came to him as the hours stretched on.

His tongue lost the moistness it had held before, and he could feel the energy seeping from him.

He had a dream. He was with his brothers in arms once more, the night before he was shipped out.

Looking down to the wound, the streak of red that was stretched along his abdomen was gone, nothing but a scar replacing it. He noticed that it had severely thinned, and he found that his other wounds had mysteriously vanished. But he was still sore from head to toe, and picked his head up from another roll.

"W-what...?" As he croaked, he heard a voice.

"Ah, thank Celestia, yer alive!"

"A-Appleb-loom?"

His eyes reluctantly opened, and he stared at the form of his vampire friend staring at him.

"P-please, don't suck me dry when I'm conscious, wait for me to pass out or s-somethin'."

Applebloom grinned, much to Sam's displeasure, "Ah ain't gonna drink yer blood, Ah already did!"

Sam stared at her for a minute.

"That is a big ass trust violation right there."

Applebloom sighed.

"Look, Ah saved yer life an' gave you mah blood, 'least ya could do is gimme some of yours."

'Wait, what?!'

Sam's eyes went wide in terror, his mouth slowly opening.

"YOU TURNED ME INTO A VAMPIRE?!" Sam silently yelled, his voice cracking.

She recoiled back from the outburst.

"Nope, Ah healed ya..." She turned her head away in shame.

"Sorry..."

Even when she was a bloody thirsty monster thing she was still FUCKING ADORABLE! Sam nearly died at the sight, but then he felt like shit. Like he punched puppies for a living, or bashed kittens with a baseball bat.

"No! Don't do that! I'm sorry, okay? I've been acting like a dick, so... thanks for helping me,"

She leapt up on his chest, much to the disapproval of his muscles still sore from the fight.

"No prob!" She grinned.

SQUEE

'What was that? Whatever, no time for this, I need to find those other two if we're gonna make it out alive.'

"Applebloom, what happened to the other two guys?"

She went silent for a moment, and scrunched her eyes up in thought, then opened her eyes and sighed.

"The one... uh... Kai-Al? He is hidin' somewhere near Fluttershy's cabin. The Rush-an, Ah didn't see, but the others went an' swarmed the hall. Ah... Ah don't think he made it."

Sam went silent for a moment, then grunted as he pulled himself up with the help of the wall of dirt behind him. Looking at his weapon, he could see it did not escape the effects of the attack, and dropped it to the side. Sam squinted as the light pouring through the massive hole in the roof amplified, and he could just about make out the mane of a familiar white alicorn above the haze of dust and smoke.

"Back to square one... just brilliant."

Applebloom stared as he coughed, wiped the sweat off his brow, and limped over to what was left of the staircase.

"Creature! Come out nice and slow! We know you are in there!" The voice was accompanied by the clanging of armored plates and shuffling.

Sam put his hands in the frames and struggled to lift himself up, but just about managed to climb up. Applebloom was about to follow when she remembered she was susceptible to the glow.

"Come on out before we-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M COMING DAMN IT!" Sam yelled in a weak voice.

A meek voice penetrated the silence, "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah can't go up there..."

Sam pieced two and two together, and turned back to the hole, shouting, "Hey! I'm coming out on one condition! I've got a girl... er, filly, that needs to get out of here as well!"

...

"She is one of them isn't she?"

"Yeah..."