The light grey pegasus sat on the bench in front of a row of lockers. Still warm coffee stains covered the front of his civilian clothes. The drive to work had been rough. Sighing, he looked back down at the picture in his hooves; holding it to the light to make out as much detail as possible in the dim lighting of the Earth Gov. locker room. Most people came to Hive City to escape the politics, in-fighting, and generic one-of-untold-billions life style that the rest of known space entitled. He was here for different. 'Personal reasons' he would tell you if you asked.
Quick Iron was not a popular member of the security force that kept most of the people in-line on the small space-colony. He didn't bother with the board-room politics or chat with his coworkers. New trainees looked to him as some sort of silent old breed who had seen it all. The rest didn't care for his blunt attitude. He didn't bother speaking unless he had something to say, although that something usually set him at odds with the lack-luster police force. Quick had arrived at the station about two standard years ago. showing up at Earth-Gov HQ with papers marking him as a transfer from a different station. Too lazy to ask questions, the big wigs had shuffled him into the folds of the force and promptly forgotten his existence.
He stood half a hoof taller than most pegasi, and his body had an in-born wiry, whipcord strength. His mixed blood of pegasi and earth pony left little to the imagination. A powerful flyer with high marks on the wing suit training, he was easily a match for most full blooded earth ponies on the force, and carried some small respect with the other pegasi on the force. His face, marred by small scars earned on the job, had a world-weary look to it that belayed his surprisingly youthful age of 25 standard years. The tired pegasus stood, putting the personal photo back in his locker. He slipped into his suit quickly and quietly, pondering the ponies curious change in stance.
In the earliest years of known pony history, they had trotted on all fours(as newborn foals still do). Somewhere down the road, that had changed. They stood on their back hooves now, moving with a bipedal gait. Their fore hooves had become more malleable for ease of grasping and manipulation, but they were still hooves. Along they way, all ponies had developed innate magical fields, much like unicorns telekinesis, that solved the issue. It almost seemed like the goddesses had decided to alter the way ponies lived for the better. With the new stance, technology had shot off at a lightning quick pace. It wouldn't have been the first time the goddesses had meddled in pony affairs. If the rumors were true(and religions, but Quick was never the religious type), the original bearers of the Elements of Harmony still roamed, looking for ponies in need. Legends from a time immemorial, it was thought that the goddesses had blessed them with immortality to watch over the ponies in their stead.
All that nonsense aside, Quick Iron was glad for the gifts he had been given. Without them, the world around him wouldn't be possible. As much as had gone wrong on his short time alive, he was still thankful for the small mercies that popped up from time to time. Shaking his mane with a small huff, Quick Iron focused back to the task at hoof.
His suit checked green, indicating a fit bill of health and a good connection to Earth-Gov coms and other vital systems. As his helmet locked into place, he flashed a rare grin at himself in the small mirror inside his locker. He had always thought the wing suits made him look like a badass.
Maybe today won't be so bad after all.
I was not having a good day. Most cops who worked the streets of Hive City didn't have good days. The tight walkways and roaring boulevards had a habit of making officers walking the beat disappear. When the shitheads up top in the fancy chairs realized a lone officer was a great target, they decided to give the scum in the lower levels a great two for one deal. 'Partners' 'Buddy System'. Call it what you want, I called it a death sentence depending on who you got stuck with. Lucky me, I was stuck with the most incompetent shit-tard on the force. Bright Flash. The name left a sneer on my lips. The unicorn could barely put his uniform on right, much less whip a slummer with too much wit and too many teeth.
Here we were strolling down an abandoned ally, kicking in boarded up doors to find some stupid mare who got lost looking for a good time. Probably some bigwig or CEO's daughter. They rich had their fingers so far up the Chief's ass he was sneezing fingernails. I nodded to the useless unicorn, making sure he was ready for the next breach. I bucked in the last door on the street, and whirled back to the wall. Flash went into the building quickly. That was probably the best breach I've seen from him yet, although that doesn't mean much. He poked his head out the doorway a few minutes later looking pale, and with a hoof over his light green muzzle.
"Hey Quick Iron." Yes, that is my name asshole. Thanks for telling anyone who might be listening to the bumbling cops searching Deep Eight-the lowest level of the city-for a missing pony.
"What the hell is it?" I groaned. This had better be great. If this wasn't some path to sunshine, roses, and the flank of one of those element bearers I was going to blow a fuse.
"Think I found the mare."
Oh. That was good.
"Great. Grab her, call it in, and let's get the hell out of here before we go missing too."
"Uh..." the incompetent buffoon managed to stutter out. My short patience was already dangerously low. Surely it wasn't that hard to comprehend.
I butted past him, getting my first look at the inside of the abandoned cell like apartment. The maroon walls were smeared with glyphs and symbols seemingly painted in white. The red of the walls gave it a harsh backstop. I ducked into the room. That's when the smell hit me.
Being a police officer, I've seen death before. I've handed it out before as well. The smell of a rotting body is something you don't ever get out of your nose. It clings to your fur like a child to their mothers leg. I've smelled many bad things in my time as a cop. This took it to a whole new level. The sickening humidity of spilt blood and entrails came with the stench. Limbs and pieces of dead flesh covered the floor like a wet carpet; squishing as I walked to the center of the one-room-hell. The walls weren't burgundy. The glyphs were where the blood had been wiped away. A lone chair sat in farthest corner from the door; the symbols all spiraled to it.
In the chair sat the head of the missing mare and then some. Bits and pieces of the head had been removed, only to be replaced with flesh from a different pony. The eyes were long gone, leaving deep cuts trailing from the empty sockets left behind to the jaw where the loose skin peeled away from the bone. This wasn't just one body. One body can't paint a room red. One body doesn't leave scattered limbs and enough chunks to coat a floor. Behind me, Bright Flash emptied his stomach onto the floor; adding to the filth and stench.
I pulled up my coms.
"Nest, this is Recov 3. Found the body. Homicide. Transmitting location."
"Copy," a staticy voice answered. Not the usually com pony. I knew there was more to this than what the chief told us.
"Get outside and make sure nothing comes close to this room," I barked at Flash. "I'll be right behind you."
The spooks were there within an hour. Not your average crime scene guys, these ghosts were for serious shit. All grim faces and dark expressions. Obviously this pony had been a shit ton more important than anyone had let on. You don't see these guys at any crime scene street cops like us turn up. They mulled about the room like flies, analyzing the welter and gore like it was some delicacy; had us check out the nearby buildings while they did their thing. An insect-like buzz from their private coms droned through the air. Obviously the rest of us weren't big enough fish to be privy to what was going on.
I was stuck with Flash again, running security and interference. The denizens of Deep Eight weren't used to so many government types arriving on their doorsteps, and had naturally come out of their rat-holes to see what was going on. The mobs of second class citizens stood on the ends of the street just past the police cordons. Some of the angrier assholes had already tried to cross and would be waking up in cells later.
"Quick, you seeing this?" Flash mumbled over our suit to suit channel.
"All I see is a lot of pissed off skinnies. Why?"
"Something is moving around in the back of that crowd. Doesn't look like a pony at all."
"Have you seen the sludge around here Flash? There are going to be a few freaks down here. Just hope they don't get offended and rip your fore-hooves off."
Wails of pain suddenly echoed off the walls. The crowds surged as one past the barrier; pushing past the officers manning the front blockade. Vibrant red shot out of the crowd sporadically; a stark contrast to the drab clothes the civilians wore.
"Great, some slummie lost it. Flash, make sure those idiots at the front are fine. I'll see if I can't get this asshole."
Flash nodded and jogged off to the over-run barricade. I sighed, crowd control wasn't my thing. Tough shit, duty is duty. I smashed into the closest edge of the mob; my full gear smashing aside the ponies still in their civvies. Not sure if you have ever tried to run through bodies, but it's comparable to trying to run through waves at sea. Those big waves that used to hit the coast near Manehattan on old Equestria not the tiny lake crap you probably thought of. A veritable wall of flesh flexed back as I pushed into it, nearly bowling me over. A few shots into the air, and the ponies started to clear a path as I waded through the unwashed masses. Even the rejects down here were afraid of a quick death it seemed.
The closer I got to the source of the screaming, the stickier the ground got. Blood covered the floor by the gallon looking for all the world like a bright red glue. It was noticeable devoid of bodies, but I couldn't tell if they had been dragged off by the pull of the crowd or something worse. The press of bodies in front of me parted and directly in my face was the source of that damn noise.
It's dead flesh reeked. Patches of fur and skin had come away leaving bald spots and unnatural growth in their places. Two long arms had exploded from the back in a grotesque imitation of wings, ending in long razor sharp bone knives. Dismembered corpses of ponies surrounded the thing. A pretty pegasus mare gurgled out her last breath; held in the air by the two talons as the thing ripped her open with it's maw. It's jaw had split open sideways, revealing row after row of rotten tooth and fang. The face of the once pony hung on a flap of skin to the side of the disfigured skull.
Skin sloughed off it's back, looking for all the world like a manta from the old seas of the pony home-world. It took the spinal cord with it; apparently the monster didn't need it anymore as it split in mare in two; dropping the twitching halves to the ground with a wet slap. The ray-like monster set upon the bodies, impaling them with it's tail. Convulsing and spasming, the bodies twitched in some gory resemblance of life before exploding into monsters like the one that had just bifurcated the mare. Heads flowered open into wide gullets, wings shed their feathers and became serrated fans of bone, limbs split and come together. Each monster was unique in it's own way in a gross facsimile of ponydom. One, two, three, four; the corpses stood up in varying states of dismemberment.
For the first time in my career, I ran. There wasn't a pause. No second thoughts, no remorse. I pulled out my kinetic baton and smashed through anything in my way. A video com exploded in front of me, Bright Flash's panic stricken muzzle shouting indistinctly.
"What the fuck are these things, Quick Iron?!? They won't fucking die!"
"Listen to me. They're fucking spreading. Get the hell out of their before you get over run. Get anyone with a gun and get the back to the main elevator. These people are fucked and I am sure as hell not dying down here."
"Yeah no shit," Flash shouted back. He turned away from the screen to shout at something. "You heard him, move your fucking flanks. Get to the-"
A shriek of terror dragged my attention away from the com. An earth pony mare smashed into me, bowling us both over. One of those things stalked behind her.
"Shoot it! Fucking shoot it!" She screamed, dragging herself off of me. Yeah not shit shoot it.
I didn't even aim, I just pointed my pistol and started blasting. The first four shots hit it in the chest doing jack shit. The next took it's head off with a loud pop and squish. It's lumbering form toppled over backwards, bouncing as the added weight of the growth landed awkwardly. I scrambled upright, reloading as I went, and pushed the mare behind me.
"Stay close." I ordered.
I walked up to the body of the misshapen pony; it's still body leaking black, brown, and puke green liquid through it's ruptured neck onto the ground. As I walked closer, I watched for twitches or movement. This thing was not getting me.
It was as still as death (although lately the dead haven't been staying dead). When I was within five steps, it exploded back upright charging at the mare and I. I let loose again; howling with fear. The shots took the two back legs supporting it off at the hock joint. It collapsed to the ground, clawing it ways towards us.
"Why. Don't. You. Just. Fucking. DIE!" I punctuated each word with another harsh bark from my pistol. The thing fell apart under the barrage. The long blades from it's back falling limply as the thing let out a death screech. Damn thing was too mean to die. The mare at my back practically fell on me as she caught her breath.
"We *gasp* need to leave *cough* now." I turned to say something along the lines of 'No shit' before I noticed what she was pointing at. Seems the pile of flesh's friends didn't like me killing it. They were charging through the mob, scything down anypony who had the misfortune of winding up in front of them.
"Damn."
I grabbed the mare, pulling her to her hooves. Holstering my pistol and grabbing at my baton again, I led her through the throng of doomed ponies. Each opening and turn gave way to new atrocities. I didn't know ponies could be cut apart like that. Goddess, what a nightmare this shit had turned into. People, cops and civilians alike, were hitting the ground with hard thuds in any direction you looked. Eviscerations, lacerations, decapitations and disembowelments, the body count showed no signs of stopping. More than once we had to weave out of the way of monsters stalking through the mad press of bodies. A humid heat had covered the street in it's sickly embrace. Bodies steamed as they were cut open. The tall doors of a city-level elevator loomed in front of us. I toggled open my com.
"Flash, where the hell are you?" I pulled up a video link. "Flash?"
The view from the link was tilted with the right side resting on the ground. Limbs and gore splattered the ground in front of the feed, and monsters devoured anything that couldn't be converted into whatever the hell they were. The feed turned quickly, flying to the ceiling as a tail smashed into the space above the camera.
"Fuck."
Safely inside the elevator, I had a chance to pause. To think. Seriously, what the hell just happened? One minute everything is going great, I might just make it home today, and then the universe just craps this out on my doorstep. Why wasn't there a warning? Necromorphs haven't been seen in at least a few hundred years. The station didn't even have a large enough unitolgist population to merit surveillance.
The mare I had pulled from death's embrace sat in the corner shivering. Her light orange coat and sandy hair: disheveled yet unharmed. She didn't look injured, but I know personally that some scars aren't on the outside. I sat down next to her, hard; my suit clanking off the walls and floor. My helmet retracted in a series of clicks and hisses, opening my face to the open air for the first time in hours. I asked the obvious question.
"You okay?"
A whimper in response. I toggled up my coms page, and looked through my work contacts. Most of the officers had bee called down to the crime scene. All of their rigs were reading red and black except for mine. My eyes fell on the last name on the list. 'Quick Flash'. Yeah he had been incompetent, but he had been my partner. I've never liked seeing cops die, much less people I'm working or have worked with before. He was younger than I was; the baby of the force. Sighing again, I knocked my head against the wall.
"We need a plan." I looked at the mare in surprise.
"Plan? The hell are we supposed to do? Those things cut through a thousand people in ten minutes. Besides, I figured you'd just want go home...goddess, what I wouldn't give to see mine again."
The mare flinched at the word home, turning away. Smooth Quick, very smooth. She obviously lived in Deep Eight; anyone she had known was now ribbons of meat or worse.
"Plans, right. Plans are good." I amended. "How about this: You stick with me. We Hit up Earth-Gov HQ for weapons and a suit for you for protection, link up with anyone else who can help us, find a ship, and get off this death trap. Sound good?" She nodded. "Great."
Another lull in the one-sided conversation. Amazing how even in the midst of a full scale genocide you could still find time for awkward silences.
"What's your name?" I asked softly.
"Primrose," she murmured softly.
'Well Primrose, I'm gonna keep you safe. Just stay with me and we'll waltz through this. Those things, can't do anything at a range. We'll just keep away from them as much as possible." She huddled in close. It had been a long time since I had held someone without putting them in hoof-locks.
