Author's Note

It's Fireflower again with the seventh installment of my first My Little Pony fanfic going beyond the typical oneshots I'd made from before and already using canon characters as human beings instead of their normal forms; however, this is nonetheless a Mature fimfic for this chapter here will deal with certain subjects unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated.

In addition, I would like to take this time to inform you this chapter is still only a nightmare, one in which starts out mundane but ends more unexpectedly; as a matter of fact, I'd taken inspiration from a playthrough of an arcade game called Zombie Raid, infamous for its inclusion of an alternate ending, a bad ending so to speak: in any case, I'd actually meant to make this longer but had ran out of time and energy so this is what I have that's finished.

Lastly, let me also say that I hope you can withstand this chapter now and stay tuned for future chapters later on; hopefully, I will have this story finished no earlier than next week because of New Years: have to focus on something else after all.

Blight

Darkness had prevailed throughout its boundaries, serving as perhaps the only way of how the small world worked, especially since it was an irreplaceable part of reality itself interchangeably. The jet–black void was all that can be experienced as of this moment, all devoid of sounds, feelings, tastes, and scents as not even a modicum of light bore any hue whatsoever to permeate. For a moment in time, it’d have seemed all was completely lost, a dark fate already sealed up and set in stone to say in the very least before the very beginning, utterly unchangeable to a fault.

In any case, it was quiet like a mouse living long enough to hear and embrace faith by virtue of proximity alone so to speak of: no distractions were found in the darkness nor of it could ever upend the otherwise uneasy peace between the dimensions herein; of course, that isn’t to say that all was calm and tranquil even though things were stagnant, especially considering all unknowns.

“Miss Carrot Top, are you there?!” a loud masculine voice had shouted out into the jet–black void after some rapid footfalls no less.

Even with the golden silence being scared away, there wasn’t even a reply whatsoever for the speaker to hear, at least initially; nevertheless, some resounding knocks were being made against a hardened surface area, tearing it all to pieces within the process: eventually, someone had done answer the call only after a few seconds, bearing a haggardly and husky huff le puff, “hmm…?”

“Miss Carrot Top, are you there?!” the primordial speaker repeated, this time more frantic than before as there was some shuffling about more quieter compared to the voice above, “please respond…!”

“Okay, I’m waking up now; this better be important…!” said the listener whose groaning had gone from confusion to irritation thanks to all the noise pollution being made by the rapid raps about.

In contrast to the speaker’s rapid rendezvous, the creaks were soft enough to absorb the steady movements even as the former shrieked to the latter all the same, “MISS CARROT TOP, OPEN UP…!”

“CALM DOWN, I’M GETTING THERE…!” the listener replied in turn as the soft noise came to meet the hard knocks in due time so to speak of, “what’s up?!”

“Turn on the radio; you’ll never believe this: it’s about the graveyard…” the primordial speaker had answered, stuttering about as the door was finally opened up for them both to meet face–to–face.

Instantaneously, the light finally shown its way into the darkness and upon the identities of the two entities opposing one another: a man and women staring each other down intently with strong emotions lacking in rhythm or beats all the same as they both are; sharing a tall stature, orange locks, bright integuments, and cold eyes were more than enough commonalities already. Of course, like many people, known and unknown, there were significant differences between themselves made apparent now: the man’s angular face was filled with fear in his aquamarine orbs, donning light underwear with thin hair and withered muscle; the woman’s roundabout fury emanated from the brilliant green, bearing goldenrod bra and panties with thickness and freckles.

She was the first to speak since he was now panting and wheezing about to the point of clutching his stomach afore herself here, “Eugene, what’s wrong?! You’d sounded like you’d saw a grizzly car crash before your eyes…!”

“Worse, it’s these things that are popping up from the ground; they ain’t the kind of things we’re eating as we’d been in our lives!” the eponymous speaker answered as he’d struggled to control his respiration all the same, earn a confused look from Carrot Top, “do you have a portable radio with you…?”

“Of course…” the green eyed tenant said softly.

It didn’t take long for the lanky man to brandish a flashlight and hand it over to her almost immediately, its photons shining: though at ease, he watched as she was in the midst of an imminent discovery when the pathway rested on a brown drawer soon; in any case, her ears had picked up to the sound of his voice, “I had to turn all of the lights out completely before this…”

“Why did you do that; you’d have at least told me about it beforehand: come to think of it, did you get this from downstairs?” Carrot Top asked him as she’d opened it to pull out a predominately yellowish contraption from its confines instantly no less, “it must have been real serious considering how frantic you were acting; by the way, this what you been talking ‘bout?”

“Yes, turn it on please…” Eugene had panted.

Rolling both eyes, the ginger woman turned the dial to hear a soft click and an announcement, “this is the emergency alert system – the following message has been transmitted by the Ministry of Health; this is not a test: tonight at 2:16 AM Central Time, a state of emergency was declared by order of Princess Celestia. Civil authorities in your area have reported that the bodies of the deceased are rising from their graves and attacking the living; follow the messages onscreen that will be updated as information becomes available: do not attempt to approach or apprehend these bodies, as they are considered extremely dangerous. I repeat: civil authorities in your area have reported that the bodies of the deceased are rising from their graves and attacking the living; follow the messages onscreen that will be updated as information becomes available. Do not attempt to approach or apprehend these bodies as they are considered extremely dangerous; this warning applies to all areas receiving this broadcast: tune into 920 AM to get updated information in the event that you are separated from your television or that the electrical service is interrupted. Civil authorities in your area have reported that the bodies of the deceased are rising from their graves and attacking the living; follow the messages onscreen that will be updated as information becomes available. This station will now cease transmission, so please use your battery–powered radio: tune into 920 AM for further information.”

“Shit, I don’t believe this at all: zombies in Ponyville of all places; I thought we had the dead all buried in cement postwar…!” she’d snapped, her eyes widening about as a wave of static mesh emitted from the device in question while another turned, “how the fuck would they crawl out of their own graves in spite of that; did somebody cast a spell over the town for some reason?!”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about myself, miss; to be honest, it kind of reminds me of what happened seven years ago: I’d watched some lunkhead take a bite out of some stuffed animal…” the man said to Carrot Top whom was sweating about profusely, so much so she couldn’t help herself other than to practically smell it getting on and off any elevator near and far altogether.

In any case, the ginger woman sorted herself through the mess of voices until one had stuck out from the contraption already, “an unknown hostile force was declared present at Sweet Apple Cemetery and several other locations in the confines of Ponyville, Hearthshome. As of 3:43 AM Central Time, Princesses Celestia and Luna have issued prerogative orders to withdraw all ground forces and begin immediate airstrikes over Sweet Apple Cemetery and surrounding areas beginning no later that 4:44 AM this morning. For your own safety, an immediate evacuation order has been issued to the entire town of Ponyville: to all subjects inside and nearby, leave all of your personal belongings, take a battery–powered radio, and only essential supplies with you; do not remain in your homes, seek shelter at your nearest military zone outside the town of Ponyville and await further instructions. If you cannont find your nearest evacuation routs, seek assistance from local authorities immediately: if you have military, gunpowder, and/or similar weapons training, contact your nearest military officer immediately; meanwhile, please stay tuned to frequency 920 AM for further information including updates on this emergency and remain calm. Remember there’s nothing to be gained by trying to stay inside instead of evacuating as soon as possible from the area as is: in doing so, you could be exposing yourself to greater dangers – starvation, dehydration, privation, and hypertension; the hostiles are far more dangerous if you’re directly in range to them without proper clothes, steel armor preferred. Make sure gas and other fuel supplies are turned off and all fires are extinguished; if mains water is available, then use this time to fill any and all of your largest carryall containers for consumption because it may not be available for much longer; also, water must not be used for whatever scale of flushing lavatories until you’re told that they may be used again properly. In the meantime, use your water only for essential drinking and cooking purposes for it means life so don’t waste it; also, to make your food stocks last, ration your supply because it may have to last for a fortnight or more: if you have fresh food in the house, then use this first to avoid wasting it but food in tins will keep. Don’t, in any circumstance, stay inside the house – the hostiles will kill: if you can see and/or hear them, then they are there; if you stay inside, the hostiles will come to you and/or your family and you may die. Head out of the area and stay out until you are told it is safe to return or you hear the ‘all clear’ on radio: here are the main points – leave your homes and stay far away from the area where the warning was given until you are told it is safe to return; we shall be on the air every hour, on the hour so stay tuned to this wavelength but switch your radios off now to save your batteries…”

“Unbelievable, out of all the ways that Ponyville perishes, this is the worst: eaten up and digested in the stomachs of the dead…” she’d shivered about as her skin became wet with perspiration, the emerald splashed façade now faltering about in the process, “I’d remembered being scared of zombies since Derpy and I went to see them in theaters but this is all too real for me, for us…! To think that it’d happen here in Equestria of all places; this is like watching a movie coming to life in the real world with real people made of flesh and blood, the same flesh and blood they’re going to feast on like we’re an all–you–can–eat smorgasbord potluck: who knows how many people will be left alive once the dust settles, let alone uneaten and unscathed so to speak of. Zooming out of Ponyville’s already a big problem considering that everyone’s going to be crowding up the escape routes: planes, trains, and automobiles will be filled with so many people trying to get out, no one will have time to check for zombies; even if they could, public transportation will have them turned in a bloodbath trying to stop the spread, part and parcel…”

“Miss Carrot…?” he’d asked the aforementioned tenant whom was now tearing up all of the sudden.

Despite Eugene repeating himself, the ginger woman was lost in a cerebration station of her own, “why is this happening: first it was the bombing, then the Apples got razed, next was the bastard’s regicide, followed by the changelings, and now this; is it because I’d let my grandma and sister die back then no less? What point would it serve in having all these people in Ponyville died at their maws if that were the case just to get me: there’s only so many ways out of here and even that won’t be enough if at least one of them follow them; how many of us will be left after tonight, if not tomorrow, if it all falls down like a house of cards? I don’t mind dying all the same if it means that I’ll get to see them again: after all, I’d made my peace with that possibility all the same, especially if I don’t kill myself; still, what about all the others, my friends and family as well as my neighbors, what if they end up dying this time before I could, if at all? The Cakes have so much to live for and now they’re going to have everything torn apart from them like it were nothing; come to think of it, what would even Pinkie do if any of them ended up turning into one of them no less: would she end up burning herself to death starting a fire just to stop the madness from spreading? I also know a bunch of people in the hospital who are going to have a harder time getting out of here, able–bodied and otherwise; Applejack, Rarity, and Derpy are already in a world of hurt as they were: all of them watched their kinsfolk perish before their eyes like I did so what if they see their faces amongst the living dead? What would the Cakes do if Pinkie Pie gets bit and turns into one of them: even though they’d treated her as a daughter before they’d become actual parents themselves, it’ll be just like the pain I’d felt watching Granny Amber and sister Noi all over again but manifold, too great to be confined to a digit; would they live afterwards for her sake or give the kids up and then some? Up until this evil night, I’d taken solace in the fact that the family name and business would live on through my brother, Cake: even though that he was all fine and dandy, I’d remembered the darkness he’d slept and ate thru all just to power on tomorrow; still, what if he fall first tonight, to himself, the living, and/or the dead in his mad dash to get his wife and kids outta their way? What if this is the night our family goes out harder and faster than the Apples themselves, especially with their experiences: we’re smaller and less resilient to them and they’d lost a bunch of kinsfolk, some even younger than my sister herself in the war; will this be the last time I’ll get to see my boyfriend alive and well rather than dead or worse off like the zombies hereon out? What if they get to the capital and finish off this Crown and Country worse than the changeling tried to do themselves earlier: all it would take is a single bite and you’re done, no amount of magic or science could stop the spread, even with amputation; will the Princesses save us if the Bearers fall or will they be joined into the march of the dead like everybody else, rich and poor?”

“MISS CARROT TOP, SNAP OUT OF IT; WE GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUT OF PONYVILLE WHILE WE CAN!” the lanky man shouted as he’d twisted her arm a bit, bringing her out the trance from not too long ago and into his own frantic gaze, “you’d already heard what the radio said: the longer we both stay here, the more likely it is they’ll kill us, airstrike or no…!”

“Alright, I’d kept a shotgun in this room along with a box of ammunition; my grandpa, Raw Umber, had the foresight to leave it at home in the event we had Timberwolves and thieves…” the eponymous individual had replied to him as she’d given the radio up to his very possession yet keeping the flashlight all the same nevertheless.

Eugene watched as the ginger woman found a pair of white doors in their shared line of collective eyesights immediately: opening them both, they were filled to the brim with countless sets of textiles lined up afore her emerald eyes directly so to speak; although she’d show no hesistation throwing a few out of there, it was only a matter of time until something came along. Instantaneously was a long and slender firearm revealed to her, its slim line barrel of iron resting against a wall on its wood stock: a curving sling of black viscose was underneath, all trailing from the bottom to the near top while a scope resided above the fabric; nearby was a steely box with nothing more to the imagination as far as she and the man abaft her were still concerned.

Out of the two items in question Carrot Top pulled out with little effort whatsoever, the weapon was over her shoulder while another hand grabbed the container’s rubber handle as he spoke, “miss, do you think now should be the time to get dressed? I don’t mind fighting the dead myself but not in the cold so to speak…”

“As long as we’re both fast, I don’t mind it at all either: just make sure not to make much noise, like you did before, Eugene…” the ginger woman said to the man who had sauntered out of the confines in little time altogether, leaving her alone like earlier, “living dead, of course – fuck, it’s genius; why didn’t anyone think of that…? Equestria used to be a land of plenty meant for being shared wholeheartedly with those wishing to live in peace and harmony; now, thanks to war and what came after it, everyone is paying the price, but in part and in full, even the innocents like Noi: lives were lost, liberties were curtailed, happiness was fleeting, and opportunities became dry, just like any other country, now and then. It’s nothing more than a shadow of its former self, filled up to the brim with garbage people littering the streets with trash: papers, plastics, and metals of all sorts which should’ve been all recycled mixed in with rotting foods and expired beverages; there have even been times when used contraceptives and dirty needles were left to rot in at least one community swimming pool! Our Princess, with or without Luna and/or even Cadance, may she rest in peace, would tell us sooner if a stunt like it happened; but, if there’s one thing I’d be willing to think about, then it’d be whatever may as well be causing all of it to be taking root: even if it’s the work of some bioweapon or forbidden spell, they’d have been done sooner if not for the timing so to speak of! Unless Canterlot is safe from these zombies, then we’re all going to be dead, living or otherwise as far as anyone else would see; even if we kill every last one of them first and destroy them for good, someone and/or something may as well come into finish us: the war was bad enough for all of us, with and without those damn changelings, but the future’s going to be looking dimmer! Yet, despite everything that’s happening in the now, I’m not going to go out like this, no matter what the odds may bring us all: this town has withstood stampedes, chocolate rain, and a few mortal shells to boot but these zombies are still nothing to me; we’re gonna get out of this house, find my brother and his family, search for some friends, and leave this fucking Tartarian trench!”

“Miss Carrot Top, I have my clothes ready for now; are you getting ready as well: do we have a plan to get out of here…?” he’d told her at once.

At this point, the aforementioned tenant was now in a heavy overcoat matching her eyes with boots thicker than snow itself: on the surface, she’d now looked calm and ready to drop bombs without having to forget about what was written within white; in any case, an answer escaped from her mouth, “meet me in the kitchen; I’ll be waiting for you in a few minutes, no further…!”

Using the same flashlight given to the ginger woman by Eugene earlier, she’d taken one last look at the closet before to search; in a matter of seconds, a blue tote bag was now in her possession, sharing the same fate as the set of clothes from not long ago: this had served as an opportunity to fill them all inside, quickly but neatly as possible, focusing in on making the finite space count. Now that she’d zipped it all up compactly as possible, her eyes had rested on the shotgun in her grip, now opening its breech; next, the box from earlier was opened, filled to the brim with predominately red shells which she’d taken the time to load: although it was brief to a fault, the deed was done as all hands cocked it ready rocksteady and rolling out to face the danger lurking. In any case, Carrot Top had closed up the container and took it alongside the tote bag right out of the very darkroom immediately: although the former was heavy in her left hand, the fact the latter was over the other shoulder opposite of the weapon eased it; either way, her emerald orbs were more hardened than the gems, be if from the ground or launched in midair by a hierophant. Xenofiction was a nonissue for the ginger woman in question, especially since she wasn’t the type of character found therein; after all, she was a person no matter the time of day or the environment of place, just like the man she’d met earlier altogether: irregardless, the situation at hand was critical for the both of them, even though she’d wielded the shotgun above the ground.

Her right hand now held the shining tool firmly enough as it were, guiding her throughout the rest of the dark territory already; although she came across a windowsill along the way, the beam of light was furthest away even as both feet neared it adjacently: she’d now see a few others like her either running from, hiding away, or fighting off the pale and decrepit lifeforms shambling. Of course, there were a handful of people whom were successful as they were assaulted either alone or in packs so to speak of: no matter how much they’d struggled, the hordes had collectively feasted upon their flesh and blood almost mindlessly no less; even the few cuts and bruises found upon their bodies meant a foregone conclusion for themselves and Carrot Top too.

“Miss Carrot Top, are you done…?” he’d called out to the ginger woman, his voice still trapped in the same building as her despite being further away, “I’m getting the cans and bottles in the bags now; please hurry up…!”

“Okay…!” she’d shouted softly to say the least.

Finding a stairway nearby, Carrot Top walked on down gently as possible, the moving frames of the dead’s attack burnt in mind; suddenly, she could hear some loud knocking upon wood, reminiscent of Eugene’s attempt albeit more louder and harder already: this had made her hair and ears stand on endwise as her eyes widened about in shock and awe, shaken but not stirred. Either way, considering the noises being made from the outside world looking in, the ginger woman’s feet scurried further; eventually, she was down on the ground but not out of the fight that she and the man were preparing for, if not prepared: no matter what happened next, she’d taken a deep breath to build up her resolve and pay no mind to what she’d seen and heard alone.

In a matter of more seconds ticked away, she’d found him in another room with a table filled by cans and bottles along with bags: he was all dressed up in a blood red hat, greengrass shirt, and jet–black shorts matching both his shoes overlaying his underwear; he’d stopped to face her and speak, “thank goodness we’re ready; now, let’s go and face the zombies together so to speak…!”

Before that could happen, something loud and booming had come their way, moreso compared to either of the knocks on wood: in a split–second, shrapnel had been sent their way courtesy of the wood, glass, and metal which had made up their own area; after the dust had settled in, both Carrot Top and Eugene were lying on the floorboards underneath, battered and bloodied no less.

“I congratulate you two: you’d made it, friends; however, you two may not know that this place has a mystical force which silly normies can never understand…” a dark raspy voice had wheezed on through, belonging to none of the gingers sprawled about with splinters deep into their fractured skin, “you know, you’ve made a mistake. In order to see it, think about the arrangement of the three crystals: I’m looking forward to others’ effort; ha ha ha ha ha ha!!”

“Written Script… wherever… you are, I’m… so sorry… I should’ve… let you come… I’d stay in… Canterlot… living in… luxury… but I’d still… be alive… I can’t… imagine… how brother… must fell now… sister’s dead… I may not… have chased bits… but I did… love you so… Eugene’s dead… just like me… whoever killed… was armed too…” she’d coughed out.

It was at this point some footsteps came, trampling all over the debris as a somber voice hissed, “rest in peace, brave souls; be at peace…”

“PRAY FOR ME…!” Carrot Top cried thunderously before melting into the pool of blood below, shrapnel and all, “I AM CLEAN…!”

The same fate befell Eugene before there was nothing left of them but red liquid and the debris which had embedded the duo all the same so to speak of.