SEAL Team Four: Missing In Action [Cancelled]by myhe01ChaptersRiskMonstersArrivalTreasureEnemys[Cancellation]RiskThe sound of the HV-22 Osprey’s blades filled John’s ears as the tiltrotor aircraft started up its two RR T406 turboprop engines. SEAL Team Four was granted a mission to assassinate Faruk Al-Bashir, the secondary leader of the PLR. After Solomon, a former CIA operative, almost put an end to New York City with a WMD, the US waged war with the PLR, and went after its second-in-command. If this mission went well, it could mean an end to the Global War of 2014. If not, well let’s just say the world could end up in a nuclear winter. The charcoal colored Osprey began to shake as it lifted off of the ground, but the abruptly stopped when it was a few meters up. It tilted forwards as a ramper guided the Osprey with his wands. After a few second of guiding, to make sure the Osprey was clear of any obstructions, it lifted upwards. The Osprey tilted forwards, angling it’s propellerss. The aircraft quickly gained speed, and John turned his attention back to his squad. “Alright men, we know the objective!” John had to shout over the noise of the propeller blades. “We eliminate the HVT Faruk Al-Bashir! This mission is risky; the whole world rests on our shoulders! If there’s one little fuck-up, the world enters a nuclear winter! Got it?!” He was met by a chorus of ‘Yes Sir!’ “Alright! Check your damn weapons, equipment, and pack! Like I said, if we screw up, we’re not only dead, but the whole fuckin’ world!” John checked over his gear for the third time that evening. ‘Ok. M4, check. G18, check. Pack, check. CamelBak, check. Gear, check. Let’s get this shit done.’ John flipped his night-vision goggles over his face. The green light was blinding at first, but his pupils shrunk, and he was able to see around the cabin. All his men were checking their gear, and putting their goggles on. John took off his parachute, and made sure everything was packed correctly. The pilot’s voice called out over the intercom. “One klick until we reach the AO! Opening cargo doors!” John gave a thumbs up, and watched at the cargo door opened up, revealing a dark sky filled with shining white dots. He secured his strap to a bar in the cabin and walked over to examine over the edge. As he neared, the cold midnight air rushed up to meet him. John looked over the edge, and what he saw was fascinating. There were buildings everywhere, the streets packed with vehicles, despite it being 2 AM in Jeddah. “Ten seconds!” the pilot’s voice shouted. John walked back, and unsecured the karabiner from the bar. He joined up with his men in a straight line, him being last. He looked up, where a red light had just came on. A few seconds later, it turned green. “GO GO GO!” John shouted, as Cooper, Griffin, Brandon, and he jumped out of the aircraft. Like before, as he neared the opening, the cold air rushed up to greet him. The wind hit his face, making it slightly red from the temperature difference. After exiting the aircraft, he looked over at his wrist to see that he was nearing 2000 meters from sea level. Knowing that the land was a little above that, he estimated it to be about 1950 meters. Looking behind him, he could see the Osprey fly away from him. ‘There’s no going back now.’ After about a minute, he looked back at his wrist. It read 800m. ‘Time to deploy.’ They moved away from each other, and deployed their chutes. “ALRIGHT MEN! OBTAIN A HEADING OF 270!” They adjusted their ram-air parachutes to a heading of 270 degrees. All was quiet during their descent. No birds, crickets, or anything like that out here in the desert. John looked behind him to see the city lights slowly fading away. After couple moments of descending, SEAL Team Four touched down, their combat boots making a crunching sound on the coarse sand. They all quickly repacked their parachutes. “Alright, Brandon, set up your M98 on that hill over there.” John pointed at a large hill overlooking the compound where Al-Bashir was hiding. John restated the plan to make sure everything went off without a hitch. “Cooper and Griffin, you’re with me. We’re going to infiltrate the compound, and eliminate the HVT, and eliminate everybody that opposes with lethal force. Got it?” “Yes sir!” “Then let’s move!” John peeled the sticker off of the breaching explosives, and stuck it on the metal door. “Alright men! Stack up!” The bodies of the three SEALs pressed against the cool stone wall. Griffin was on the right of the door, with his SCAR-L. John and Cooper were on the left side with their M4A1 and M249. “Brandon, how copy, over?” John said into his radio. “Send.” “You covering us?” “Wilco. Out.” John looked over to his comrades. “Brandon’s got us covered. You ready.” “Affirmative,” said the SEALs. “BREACHING!” John pushed the detonator. There was a loud explosion, and a flash of orange light. “LET’S MOVE!” John cautiously stepped through the smoke, and headed to the left, M4 raised. Next was Griffin, who went to the right with his weapon raised. Last but not least was Cooper, who went forward, SAW raised. “CLEAR!” shouted John. They looked around. It was a shabby place. Tiles were cracked, some missing. There was one lit lightbulb overhead, hanging by a wire. Off to his left was a kitchen, which was surprisingly clean, compared to the rest of the place. Forwards was a staircase. John motioned for his squad to follow. They slowly went up the stairs, weapons raised. As John neared the second floor. He heard shouts, then a bullet struck the concrete not less than in inch from his head. Instead of backing away, he rushed forwards, and quickly took out both gunmen. He looked around to make sure there were no more hostiles, and then inspected the bodies. Once he was done, John stood back up. In front of him was the only door on the second floor, the one leading to Al-Bashir. He quietly moved to the door, and extended his left hand to the knob. Before his hand reached it. It twisted quickly, and a figure stepped out, holding an AK-74. That figure was Al-Bashir. They heard him shout something in Arabic, but before he could finish, his head exploded. Pink and white bits of brain and bone shards went everywhere. His limp body dropped to the floor, his AK going off from the impact. Luckily, the bullets went everywhere except into the SEALs. It took a second for John to process what happened. He then quickly turned on his radio. “Nice shot Brandon,” he said into the radio casually. “Thanks,” he heard static for a second, then Brandon was back on comms. “I see some tangos coming from the east to inspect the AO. ETA one minute. Get out of there! I’ll meet you at the LZ and radio for a ride. Over.” “We got ya Brandon. Moving to LZ. Out.” John got out a digital camera, and quickly snapped pictures of the body. After doing so, he put it away, and rushed through the door. They didn’t have time to grab intelligence, or identify the body, so they legged it to the LZ, where they would meet up with Brandon. The crunch of the sand beneath his boots, and the ragged breath of his squad mates was all he could hear. In the distance, he could see the same Osprey that picked them up with Brandon leaning out the side with one of the pilot’s P90. They reached the Osprey, and vaulted into the cabin. “Took ya long enough,” Brandon said jokingly. “Shut up.” John said in between breaths. His team had just run half a mile with 100 pounds of gear on. “It’s not like you had this much fucking gear on.” That was the truth. Since Brandon was only there to provide sniper support, he had half the weight of the gear that the other members of SEAL Team Four had. He still had acrylic plates and pockets full with .50 cal ammo, but, he had less of it. “Whatever. Yo’ Curt! Take us away!” Brandon shouted into the cockpit. The Osprey started to lift up and tilt forwards, heading away from the compound. John flipped up his night-vision goggles, which were caked with sand, and rubbed his forearm on his forehead. John secured his karabiner to the bar once again, wand walked over to the edge of the cabin. Since the pilots had not yet closed the doors, he could see the crowd of enemies down below. ‘That was a close one.’ He thought he saw one kneel down, holding a tube on his shoulder. ‘I hope that’s not what I think it is...’ “Brandon! Hand me your rangefinders!” He felt a weight land on his hand, his eyes never leaving the suspicious person. John pressed the rangefinders to his eyes. There was one Arabian kneeling down with a surface-to-air man-portable launcher aiming right at the Osprey. John felt a sense of dread come over him. “Oh fuck, we are so boned! We got a man-portable down there!” he shouted franticly. Suddenly, there was a bright flash from the ground, and a smoke trail steering itself towards the Osprey. “SHIT! GET DOWN!” There was a loud explosion, and a large shudder. John looked out, inspecting the engines. The left one was fine, but the right one was on fire. Then the Osprey started to tilt to the right. Suddenly, there was a green aura surrounding the Osprey that was getting brighter every second. “WE GOTTA JUMP!” yelled John. “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” shouted Griffin. “YES! NOW EVACUATE!” John ran to the cargo doors. “HE’S GONNA JUMP!” shouted Griffin. “YEAH HE IS! NOW JUMP!” shouted Cooper as he too ran to the doors. But before both SEALs could jump, there was a blinding flash. Sunlight seeped through John’s eyelids as he slowly came to. He immediately realized something was wrong. The reason being he had a face full of dirt. ‘Didn’t we crash is a desert?’ As soon as he started to remember last night, a piercing pain went through his skull. The feeling was akin to a large nail being driven through it. He clutched his head, hoping by doing this it would go away—but it was all in vain. He tried to subdue the pain by gritting his teeth, and going into a fetal position. Then suddenly, the pain went away as quickly as it came. John slowly rose up from the earth, trying to steady himself. He moved his hands around to try to grab on to anything. John felt his hand brush a tree. He moved his hand back, and then leaned on said tree. ‘Wait… There’s no trees in the desert.’ He suddenly opened his eyes, and took in his surroundings. In front of John was the twisted wreck of the HV-22. It was tilted sideways, the right wing completely crushed. However, the left wing barely had a scratch on it. He looked left and right. All there was, was endless forest. ‘Damn. How are we gonna get outta here?’ After the dizziness faded away, and his vision became clear, he walked up to mangled aircraft. Scattered around it were his squad mates, who were just beginning to stir. He acknowledged this, and walked inside of the aircraft. Everything in the aircraft was a mess. There was debris everywhere. Glass and dirt littered the side of the aircraft from where the right windows had broken. One of the left side benches, despite being bolted down, had fallen. John saw a reflection amongst the debris, and found Brandon’s rangefinders, still completely intact. ‘Score!’ John continued forwards, until he came to the cockpit. He pried the pilot’s head from the control panel so he could determine if he was alive or not. What he saw was a gruesome sight, even by his standards. The pilot’s plastic visor had broken into pieces, and lodged itself in both of his eyes. His chin was smashed in, and some parts of his cheek were missing, exposing his mouth. Also, his helmet and skull were cracked wide open. ‘Holy shit, I feel really bad for Curt. This is pretty gruesome, even by my standards.’ He pulled the body from the cockpit, and fireman-carried it out of the Osprey. He gently set the corpse down, and closed its eyes. He then went back in to check on the co-pilot, Larry. When he entered, what he saw wasn’t as gruesome at Curt, but he was dead nonetheless. Just like with Curt, he carried him out of the Osprey, and set him down next to his buddy. John kneeled down, and put his hands together, and whispered a short prayer, wishing the brave pilots a good time in the afterlife. After that, he used his right hand to touch his forehead, stomach, left, and then right shoulder, forming the Holy Trinity. He heard footsteps behind him, and then a hand on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be ok man,” reassured Griffin. John stood up to face his squad. “Alright men! We completed the mission, but we’ve spontaneously travelled to a different location. This is not time to slack. Brandon and I will dig a grave for Curt and Larry. I want you two to secure the perimeter. Cooper, I want you to get your collapsible shovel, and give it to Brandon.” He was met by a chorus of ‘Yes sir!’ John shrugged off his parachute, then his backpack. He moved the parachute out of his way, and then rifled through his backpack for his collapsible shovel. After about a minute of searching, he found it. John pulled it out, and opened it. Shovel in hand, he went over to Brandon, who was already digging a grave for Larry. John immediately started digging Curt’s. But unbeknownst to John, there were two pairs of eyes observing him. A few hours later, John wiped the sweat off his brow. Before him were two patches of dirt, approximately 6 feet tall and 2 feet wide. “Well, now that that’s done, we can report to Copper and Griffin,” he said. John reached for his radio, and pressed the ‘TALK’ button. “This is John, how copy, over?” “AO is secure. Over.” ‘Well that’s a relief.’ “Head back to crash sight. Out.” John cleaned the dirt off of his shovel, as Brandon did the same. He folded it up, and put it back in its case. John then picked up his M4, and switched on his EO-Tech Holographic sight. He held it downwards, finger perpendicular to the trigger. “Alright Brandon, let’s head back to the Osprey.” As John was waiting by the Osprey, he heard his radio crackle, then Cooper said something on the line. “John, we’ve found two civvies snooping on us. Most likely curious. I’ll bring them back to the crash site. ETA two minutes. Over.” “Rodger. Out.” John just waited there, while Brandon cleaned his .50 cal on a flat piece of scrap metal. “Man, all that sand really took a hit on my sniper,” said Brandon. “I gotta clean ‘er good.” Brandon applied some lubricate to the firing mechanism. He was checking his M4 out, when he heard six sets of footsteps. ‘I thought he said there was two civvies?’ If there’s six sets of footsteps, then this must not be them.’ He raised his M4, and cautiously took a step forwards. He saw some bushes rustle. “This is John Redbar of the United States Navy SEAL Team Four! Identify yourselves! If you will not identify within five seconds, you will be shot on sight!” “Whoa man, Chill! It’s just us,” came Griffin’s voice from behind the bushes. The SEAL then stepped out, raising his hands in the air, SCAR-L hanging by its strap. “We found two civvies—“ he started. “I heard six sets of footsteps. I thought you found two, not four,” interrupted John. “Yeah about that. It’s complicated. Let me just show you.” Griffin walked to the bush, and peeked his head in. “Alright, you can come out now.” John was confused for about why they would hide their appearance. Then the ponies stepped out of the bushes. One was a butter-colored pegasus with a pink mane, and the other was a lavender unicorn sporting a purple mane with a pink highlight. John leaned over and whispered to Brandon, whose eyes never left his gun since he started cleaning it. “Dude, am I high right now?” “What do you—“ Brandon started to turn around, and then saw the two ponies. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his jaw dropped. “John, Brandon, I’d like you to meet Twilight Sparkle,” he gestured to the purple unicorn. “and Fluttershy,” he guestured to the yellow pegasus. MonstersJohn and Brandon stared at the two ponies, dumbfounded. The bush that they emerged out of rustled again. Combat training kicking in, John reached to his hip for his G18, swiftly unholstering it and pointing at the bush. He cautiously took a step forwards, and reached his hand towards the bush, intending to part the leaves. But, before he could do so, Cooper stepped out, and froze. “Whoa man! Get that this away from me!” Cooper called out. John swiftly pulled the automatic pistol away, and reholstered it. He walked back over to the group, and stood in front of Brandon, whose mouth was still open, and eyes wide. John then raised his hand and slapped him. Brandon’s mouth closed, and his eyes turned back to their normal size. “Dude, what the hell?!” Brandon called out, nursing his cheek. John gave no answer. He just simply walked up to Griffin, no emotion present. He stared at him for a few long seconds, though for Griffin, it felt like hours. He was never a fan of when John got angry. “Griffin, do you mind to explain WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” John shouted at Griffin with a shout loud enough to rival the Royal Canterlot Voice. A piercing cold-hearted stare came from John's eyes. “You know what? Fuck this! I need some time to think,” he threw his hand up into the air, and walked towards the downed Osprey. They all stared at the spot he just was, not knowing what to do. “I think we should give him some time alone,” whispered Cooper. Sometime later, John emerged from the downed Osprey. He looked around and saw the group chatting. John walked over to them. As he drew near, the group started to stand up, and the SEALs put on their gear. They started to say something to him, but he held his hand up silencing them. “Guys—and ponies. I’m sorry for my outburst,” he said. He rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands crossed behind his back. “That was very unprofessional of me, especially when meeting new pe—ponies. He suddenly felt two pairs of arms wrapped around him. He flinched, but held once he realized that it was the two ponies he met earlier. He looked up to meet Cooper’s gaze, but he just shrugged. The two ponies then released from the hug, then just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. But it was Twilight who broke the ice. “I think we should head back to Ponyville, it’s starting to get dark, and you don’t want to be in the Everfree forest after dark!” she exclaimed. Brandon looked at her with a questioning gaze. “What’s so bad about the Everfree forest?” he asked. Twilight was obviously frightened, and looked left and right before whispering into Brandon’s ear. He had a neutral face, until Twilight pulled away. Then he burst out laughing. He continued to laugh, until he out of breath. He wiped a tear away from his eye. “Brandon, what’s so funny?” asked Griffin. John, along with Cooper, were wondering the same thing too. “She just said that the clouds move on their own, animals take care of themselves, and there are scary monsters.” By now, the SEALs couldn’t hold it in any longer. They all burst out laughing. Once they stopped, Twilight looked at them, anger on her face. “The Everfree Forest in nothing to joke about!” she said sternly. They all just looked at each other, and shrugged. “Alright, fine,” Brandon admitted in defeat. “Good,” she turned away from them, and started to walk towards the path that led to Ponyville. “Let’s head back to Ponyville.” The men just shrugged, and followed the two ponies, but they didn’t get far, as they heard three high-pitched screams. The Cutie Mark Crusaders trotted through the eerie forest, on a quest to earn their monster catching cutie marks. Oblivious to the trio, a certain predator was watching them, waiting for their future meal to falter, so he take advantage of that moment, and pounce. Suddenly, the orange one (which resembled a chicken to the manticore) fell, and grunted in pain. The manticore took this opportunity to pounce. The lion-scorpion-dragon creature stalked out of the bush, and towards its prey. The creatures turned suddenly when they heard his pawsteps, and a look of pure fear adorned their faces. The manticore raised its wings high, and licked his lips to seem all the more scarier. His meal shrieked in fear, and took off running. He noticed the orange one was limping slightly, and he chose that one to be his appetizer. Although the three fillies outran the manticore, he was going at a slow pace. He liked his meals with a hint of adrenaline. After a few moments of running, the manticore had enough, and pounced towards the orange one. The other two stopped in their tracks, and stared at what was about to happen to their friend. The manticore held the little filly in his paws, haunches on the ground. He licked his lips in anticipation, and opened his massive jaws, about to take a bite, when he noticed the bushes rustling, and a creature stepped out, holding a metal tube with two handles. The manticore, upset with this interruption, set the filly down. He didn’t care if it ran away, he just wanted to teach this unwanted visitor a lesson. He got in a fighting stance, face low to the ground, wings spread out, and stinger raised high. He roared, and then pounced. (Switch POV) The lion thing pounced at John. He swung his M4 around, and hit the creature with it like it was a baseball bat. He then took the stock of the gun and jammed it into the lion’s face multiple times, but the thing would not give up. John decided that it was out for blood, and switched the safety off of his M4. He lined up the sights, and put four bullets into the manticore. It wobbled around a bit, then fell, blood oozing everywhere. John walked up to it, and put two bullets into its head, just to be sure it was dead. Suddenly, the bushes John emerged from started rustling, and five figures burst out of it. John leveled his carbine at them, but put it down once he realized it was his squad and the two ponies. But before anyone (or pony) could say anything, Fluttershy saw the dead manticore, and ran off to it, tears streaming down her face. Twilight was frozen in shock. She didn’t know what to say. All she did was stare at the manticore, then John, then back at the manticore. John slowly walked up to her, and put a hand on her shoulder, but his hand only made contact for a minuscule amount of time, before she whipped around and bared her teeth. John jerked his hand away from the now menacing pony. He tried to back away, but he felt like he was frozen in place. He tried to look away from her eyes, but there was something about them that made him freeze in place. He felt like he wanted to confess all his sins, but his vocal cords didn't obey his commands. The rest of SEAL Team Four could tell he was struggling, and they leveled their firearms at Fluttershy. “Ma’am, release John now, or we will use lethal force,” commanded Cooper. He didn’t know what was controlling John, but he knew as soon as Fluttershy turned to face his friend, he froze in place. She turned away from him, and John dropped to the ground, gasping for air. “He killed him,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “I’m sorry that I killed him!” John yelled in between wheezes. “It was either the lion thing, or those three ponies!” At the words ‘three ponies’, Fluttershy turned her head over to where John was pointing. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision when she ran to the aid of the manticore, so she couldn’t see the Crusaders sitting on their haunches in shock over what just happened. “Oh, girls!” Fluttershy ran over to where the Crusaders were, and hugged them tightly. “C’mon, let’s get back to my cottage.” The three fillies snapped out of their trance, and began walking away, tears streaming down their faces. Before Twilight could say anything, John held a hand up. “Let me explain.” He got up, dusted himself off, and walked over to Twilight. “I am a soldier,” he bagan. “I fight so people don’t have to. I don’t fight what‘s in front of me, I fight for what’s behind me. I may seem like a cruel heartless monster, but I have a family and friends, and I fight for my country, so I can keep them safe. What you saw was not for fun, and it definitely was not an accident. That lion-thing—“ “Manticore,” she corrected, her tone neutral. “Manticore, was going to kill and/or eat those three little fillies. If I had not been there to stop it, they would be gone forever. I’m pretty sure Fluttershy knows them well, judging by her reaction. Like I said before, I fight so others don’t have to. I know I am a soldier; a killing machine—but I’m proud of it. Call me what you want, but I will always be a soldier,” John concluded his improvised speech. Twilight had no emotion on her face. She just got up, and walked away. “C’mon,” she said in a monotone voice. “We’re going back to Ponyville.” ArrivalThe group emerged from the forest, a strange sight to anypony who’s never seen a human before. Twilight, still not knowing what to think about the ‘killing machines’, kept on lumbering along, paying no mind whatsoever to the gasps and frantic galloping around her as she entered the town. Locks clicked, doors slammed, tumbleweeds… tumbled. The entire town had looked like it was abandoned. Twilight still paid no mind, and trudged along, not breaking pace, and staring straight ahead. A large tree soon came into view. All four men looked up in awe at it. “Hol—“ Brandon started, but was silenced by a combat glove covering his mouth. John decided that he didn’t want to push Twilight over the edge after his impromptu speech. When the group arrived at the tree, Twilight pushed open the door using her magic revealing a small library bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun. She continued upstairs, but paused at the last step. “You sleep down here. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.” The door slammed shut, and silence filled the library. “Alright guys, I guess—we rest,” with that sentence, John took off his gear, and laid his head on his backpack, and fell asleep. John awoke to glass shattering, and hitting the floor. He kept his eyes closed, so the intruder didn’t know he was awake. Slowly, John reached for his G18 equipped with a tactical light, and his ACB-90. He flicked the safety off of the Glock, and held the pistol in his right, and knife in his left. He slowly rose to a crouched position, and moved over to where the sound was coming from. He came to a door, and he heard more glass breaking behind it. ‘Shit, burglar. Should I go stealth, or not?’ He pondered this for a moment before he made his decision. (Switch POV) The burglar smashed his way through the window, and quietly, stepped inside. ‘Ok, ok, what is there to steal?’ He looked around the room he was standing in. It was a study, with a few bookshelves and a desk. He softly tiptoed (tiphoofed?) around the room looking for something interesting. ‘A bookshelf, nah—bits wouldn’t be hidden there.’ He made his way over to the desk, his dark gray coat blending with the shadows. He looked over the top of the desk, knocking stuff away, trying to find his prize. Suddenly, he put a little too much force on moving an empty glass inkwell, and it fell off of the desk, and smashing to pieces on the ground below it. ‘Horseapples, I gotta be more careful.’ He went through a few more drawers, nothing catching his attention, until he opened the last drawer. In it was a box marked ‘Emergency Bits’. ‘Good, I found what I was looking for.’ The burglar carefully avoided the broken glass, and was about to step out the window when he felt his mouth being covered by a rough fabric, and a knife being pressed to his neck. He then heard a rough voice, one that sounded like it wanted nothing more than to kill him. “Now you listen here,” John whispered. “You have five seconds to give me everything you stole, and never come back, or I will slit your throat on the spot. Five.” He frantically tried to break free. “Four.” He tried even harder, but to no avail. “Three.” He decided that he should give everything up. “Two.” He dug through his saddlebags, frantically trying to get them off. “One.” He felt the knife slowly start to slide across his throat, the blade pressing into his fur. ‘This is the end of me…’ Suddenly, the clasp loosened, and he relieved the weight from his back. The grip on him instantly loosened, and he scrambled out the window, the shards scraping his skin. The sun peaked over the mountains, its beautiful light shining through the windows of the library. Brandon, Griffin and Cooper awoke from their sleep, and sat up, rubbing away the sleep from their eyes. “Best fuckin’ sleep since I got a vacation off,” exclaimed Cooper. “I second that bro,” agreed Griffin. Brandon simply just yawned. “Hey, anybody seen John?” The men staggered forwards, looking for their comrade. They walked through a doorway, and found him it the kitchen, his M4 dissembled and miniature gun cleaning kit out. They watched as he lubricated the bolt carrier, and then assemble it. He put it back in the carbine, and closed the top half and securing it in place. “Mornin’,” he said as he started to take apart his pistol, and clean it also. “Ah nothing. Why are you up so early?” asked Brandon. “Some dumbass tried to rob the place last night. I didn’t even show him my bad side, and he went runnin’.” “How come we didn’t hear it?” John continued cleaning his sidearm. “I’m a light sleeper. Always alert.” Before Brandon could say anymore, he heard the clopping of hooves on wood, and sure enough, the purple pony came through the doorway. “Mornin’,” she muttered before searching for the materials to make coffee. John saw what she was making, and asked if he could have some. “Sure, how’d you like it?” “Black.” She cringed at the thought of drinking black coffee, but she made it anyways. “Here,” she use her magic to hand him the coffee. “Thanks,” he replied, before sipping his coffee. “So uh Twilight,” John started. “A burglar broke it last night.” “Oh yeah, that’s nice, a burglar broke in…” she took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes grew wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She spat out her coffee, making a light brown mist. “A BURGLAR BROKE IN?!” she yelled. “Whoa, calm down,” John held his hands in the air, trying to get her to calm down. “I took care of it. There’s just a mess and some broken glass, no need to worry about it.” “Wait,” she glared suspiciously at John. “How did you take care of it?” “I just threatened him to return your things and leave, I didn’t kill the bastard.” She wiped the sweat from her brow. “Well that’s a relief, I thought you killed him.” John looked Twilight in the eyes. “I don’t kill for fun. I kill only when I need to.” Even though he had a poker face that could rival Celestia’s, his eyes betrayed him. He looked like he had seen some things he had never wanted to see. ~~~ The trucks rumbled through the small Iraqi village, kicking up dust left and right. “This is Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, how copy, over?” Victor reached for the radio. “This is Misfit Three Two to Misfit Actual, solid copy. We’re nearing the objective. Just four more klicks, over.” “Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, you know your role, out.” Victor hooked the microphone back on the hook of the Humvee’s radio. “You guys ready to kick some ass?” Victor turned to face the two men in the back. John and Jericho just nodded. Victor was about to turn back around when the driver shouted out. “RPG!” The Rocket Propelled Grenade hit the first vehicle of the convoy, blowing it to scrap. The driver swerved the HMMWV around the hunk of metal, and through the dust. As the vehicle emerged, an explosion rocked the Humvee, tipping it on its side. “Get out! Fucking ambush!” shouted Victor. The five men crawled out of the useless vehicle, and fell to the ground, doing a somersault before standing upright, weapons drawn. Around them was chaos. Bullets and RPGs were streaking through the air. Explosions were rocking the ground. Soldiers were dying around them. Suddenly, Jericho’s head exploded. “Fucking move! Sniper!” shouted Victor. Misfit Three entered the nearest building, weapons raised. “Clear the rooms!” The men went through every room, checking for hostiles. Once the rooms were clear, they all met up back in the main room. “Ok!” started Victor. “We’re in some pretty deep shit right about now! We need to—“ he suddenly was silenced as the blade of a knife plunged through his neck. His body fell limp to the ground, blood pooling around his now lifeless body. Standing where he was, was an Iraqi man, the white turban on his head stained with blood and riddled with bullet holes. He raised up his rusted AK-47, and pulled the trigger. The former gunner of the Humvee fell to the ground, lifeless. It was now only John and the driver. The man shouted something unrecognizable, but it died in his throat as John pulled the trigger on his M16. “Goddammit. We’ve lost three men, and it hasn’t been five minutes. You know what, that’s it, I’m breaking radio silence.” John pulled the mic near his mouth, and pressed the ‘TALK’ button. “Misfit Three Three to Misfit Actual, our situation has gone FUBAR! We got ambushed three klicks from the objective, we need air support now!” “Misfit Actual to Misfit Three Three, we’re sending air support from the nearest FOB. Standby, out.” Suddenly, another figure burst through the door, but this one was a lot smaller. The driver saw that it was a child, and moved forwards to welcome him in a hug, but John was a little more observant. It the child’s right hand was a piece of metal, shaped like a detonator. “Shit! Get down!” John dove sideways as the child squeezed the detonator. The explosion rocked the whole building, and he was blasted backwards. “Fucking bitches sending children!” he shouted angrily as he moved a slab of concrete off of him. He looked around for his M16, and found it a few meters away. He picked it up, and pulled back halfway on the charging handle to make sure there was a bullet chambered. He shouldered the rifle, and started to head back outside, when he heard the thumping of helicopter blades. He looked outside, and was relieved to see two AH-6 Littlebirds making gun runs on the village. After waiting a few minutes, the impact of Hydra rockets stopped, and John assumed with was safe. He opened the door, rifle drawn, and looked up and down the street. He went out a little further, and to his relief, saw a MH-60 Blackhawk hovering a few inches above the street. The Air Force PJs were loading several wounded into the chopper. John made a break for it. The helicopter was a few more meters away. “Hey!” he shouted to get the attention of the crew. “Got any room to spare?” The PJ gave a thumbs up, and waved him in. ~~~ “John? John! JOHN!” John shook his head. “What happened?” he asked. “You just froze, staring off into space,” exclaimed Twilight. “Sorry,” said John. “I just had this really bad memory…” “Ok, I'm glad you're alright. Anyways, we’re going to see the princess in Canterlot. I sent her letter and I’m sure she’ll want to meet you. “Ok, I guess that’s good. C’mon men, suit up,” said John as he walked off to ready his gear. The Friendship Express chugged up the mountain, en route to Canterlot. “So, uh, John. Can you tell me about the metal thing you have in your hand that killed the manticore?” she asked. “Well, as you know already, it can kill very quickly. It fires at about 800 rounds per minute.” John ejected the magazine, and took a bullet out. “This,” he handed Twilight the bullet. “Is the real killer. It’s a standard 5.56 NATO round. The gun doesn’t kill, it’s the bullet. He watched as she instantly dropped it, moving as far away from it as possible. John gave a few chuckles. “The bullet is not effective without the gun. You see this here,” John disassembled the rifle, and showed her the firing pin. “This metal rod, the firing pin, jams into a little circle in the back of the bullet, igniting to powder, propelling the actual bullet,” he pointed out the top of the bullet. “Oh, I get it now!” she exclaimed. “It’s kind of like the muskets the Royal Guards are experimenting with. “Yeah, only these are much more powerful.” The train soon arrived at Canterlot station. Twilight, John, Brandon, Griffin, and Cooper stepped off of the train, and headed towards the castle. TreasureThe trio strode out of the Canterlot Junction, and were immediately met with the sight of the castle several blocks ahead. “C’mon,” Twilight started to trot towards the castle. “The castle isn’t far from the station.” As they walked towards the goal, they were met with a barrage of slander from the monsters we call Canterlot snobs. “What a hideous creature!” “Insolent whelps!” “Get away from me!” These were just a few of the complaints the citizens of Canterlot. “These dicks probably have their nose so far up their ass that they don’t know what they’re stepping in,” whispered Brandon. Cooper snickered. “Ugh, just ignore them. They think they’re so sure of themselves,” said Twilight. “We’re almost there anyways.” A few more blocks away was the giant castle, sparkling with yellow and white in the morning sun. “Halt!” suddenly shouted a voice. “You will immediately desist and come with me for interrogation.” Lo and behold was a white-colored Solar Guard, spear at the ready. “It’s ok,” Twilight said. “They’re with me.” “Be quiet peasant.” As soon as John heard this, he unholstered his G18, and aimed it point blank at the guard’s face. “You take that back right fucking now,” he growled. “You dare challenge me?” replied the guard. “John, I don’t think—“ “Yes I challenge you, you fucking douchebag.” “Then so be it! I challenge you to a hoof-to-hoof spar! The first pony to be knocked out loses.” “That’s not fair—for you!” shouted John. He holstered his Glock, and dove at the guard. He threw a left hook, and sent a roundhouse kick to the guard’s legs, knocking them out from under him. He punched him a few times, and kicked him for good measure. “You will not win,” the guard gasped, but John sent a kick to his face, knocking him out cold. “John, I don’t think that was the best way to settle that.” “He’ll be fine,” John replied, and hefted the guard onto his shoulder. The group soon passed through the gates of the castle, and were met by more guards, this time, they were carrying muskets that looked like something the Minutemen would use. “Halt!” one of them shouted. You are to—“ “Bitch, please. I just defeated one of your guard in a sparring match in ten seconds flat. Don’t fuck with me.” He emphasized this by dropping the unconscious guard to the ground. “How dare you insult us! We are the finest—“ “Heard it, seen it, got the T-shirt. Now shut the fuck up.” “That’s it! Stallions! Ready your—“ the guard was cut off by a regal-sounding voice. “What is the meaning of this?” questioned Princess Celestia. All guards, and Twilight bowed to the solar diarch. “This is how you treat diplomats? For shame! Back to your posts,” she commanded. The guards looked at John, and sauntered back to their posts. Princess Celestia walked up to them. “I’m terribly sorry for their behavior, they can get a little antsy sometimes, especially after the recent Changeling Invasion. Anyways, welcome to Equestria. We have a lot to discuss. Come.” The Princess turned, and headed into the castle. “So tell me, how long have you been here?” Celestia asked, sipping her tea. “Well, we haven’t been here long, about twenty-nine hours actually,” replied John. “Well, what if I told you that you are not the first things to transpire into this world. Here, I’ll show you.” Celestia got up, and walked to a wall. She felt along the wall for a moment, until she found a hole where she inserted her hoof, where it seemed to disappear into the wall. Suddenly, there was a click, and part of the wall slid open, revealing a lit staircase. “Come.” The Princess started to walk down the stairs, and the rest followed. The wall shut with a shudder. “So what are we doing down here?” asked John, eyeing the wall cautiously. "We have had other objects teleport from your world into ours, but you are the first living beings that have come through." She walked up to a door, and inserted her horn into it. “This…” the door opened up with a hiss. “…is Vault 2. It contains object from you’re world, and we have quite a lot of them. The stone slab door opened up to reveal a massive warehouse that contained everything from A-10s, to ZU-23s. “Holy shit. This thing is massive! Abrams, Blackhawks, Harriers, Apaches, I don’t know what to say!” The warehouse was massive, containing almost anything you could think of. In one section were wheeled vehicles, in another were tracked vehicles, another were planes, then helicopter, then firearms. The whole warehouse had to be at least a square mile. “I can see that you’re amazed. I will give you permission to use the items of your choosing, on one condition.” Said Celestia. “What’s the condition?” asked John as he was examining an AN-94. “The condition is that you are to be Ponyville’s law enforcement, and Royal Guard Special Forces." Enemys“The condition is that you are to be Ponyville’s law enforcement, and Royal Guard Special Forces." "Wait, what?" asked John with confusion. Celestia repeated her sentence. "You are—" "No, I heard what you said," John interrupted. "It's just that, why?" "John, what I am about to tell you may be hard for you. There is no chance of you being able to be sent home," John's life shattered before him. "Wait, no no no!" Why me? Why? Why can't I ever see my family again? Sophie and Zach—I'll never see them again..." he fell to his knees, looking at the ground solemnly. "Why me?" "John, don't worry too much. We will try to make your life in Equestria as good as possible," she walked up to John, and put a wing around her comfortingly. “Everything—it’s gone,” he said with a whisper. “Shh, it’s ok. Not everything is gone. You still have your friends.” John looked up to see his friend’s faces of sympathy. The look in their eyes is all he needed to get back up. “You’re right,” he started. “Even though I’ve lost everything, the things I still have to live for are right in front of me. C’mon men, let’s get some gear.” As John was roaming the piles of devices, he strolled into the section of small electronics to see what he could find. As he was gazing into the pile, something caught his eye. “What’s that, wait—is that what I think it is?” He jogged over to a teal GameBoy Color with the name ‘John’ written on the back with Sharpie. “Holy shit! I was wondering where that went. It even still has Pokémon Crystal in it! This is so cool!” he let out a fangirlish-like squee. Once he realized what he was doing, he immediately stopped, pocketed the GameBoy, and moved on. The men picked quite a lot out of Vault 2. For weapons, they picked 16 M4s, 8 P90s, 24 M9s, 8 M1911s, 4 G24s, 4 AN-94s, 2 M249s, 2 M60s, 2 M107s, and 4 Mk12s. For vehicles, they picked 1 UH-60M, 1 AH-6J, 1 LAV-25, 1 M1A2 TUSK, 2 HMMWV M2s, 1 LAV-AD, and 1 Stryker MGS. Every item they picked needed ammo, so they picked out a year’s worth for each and every thing. Even if they ran out, they could always come back for more. “So that settles everything Princess. Also, do you think you could build us a base of operations? We need a place to put this all.” “Yes, of course I will. Do you think you could draw a design, and send it to me within a few days? I will have Equestria’s finest contractors aid you once you send me a design.” “Of course I will. I’ll have it to you within the week. Also, thank you for all this,” said John. “No problem, just all I ask of you is to keep Ponyville, and Equestria safe. Also, before I forget, take this,” Celestia handed them an envelope. John took the envelope, and stuffed it in his pack, careful not to fold it. “See ya’ later Princess,” John and his friends waved, and she waved back. “So I guess we head to the train station?” asked Cooper. “Yep. C’mon, let’s sprint there. We haven’t gotten any PT since we got here.” The train chugged away from Canterlot, steam rising in the air. “So tell me what you picked out from that massive vault?” Twilight asked with curiosity. “Well, we picked out a lot of rifles, like my M4 and Griffin’s SCAR. Also, we got a couple of helicopters, some light armor, heavy armor, and an anti-air system. Here, I’ll show you.” John pulled out his iPhone 5S in a Lifeproof case, and pressed the sleep/wake button to turn it on. “Whoa, what’s that?” asked Twilight, gently lifting the smartphone out of John’s grasp. “That, is called a smartphone. An iPhone 5S to be exact. It is a com—“ Suddenly, the windows of the train burst inwards, sending shards of glass everywhere. Four ponies wielding crossbows and wearing balaclavas boarded the train. “Give us all your valuables, and nopony gets hurt!” the first pony shouted. Ponies screamed, and started throwing everything at them, from necklaces, bracelets, even an iron, resulting in one of the robbers getting knocked out. “Fuck off,” John stood up, and aimed his M4 at the intruders. “Oh yeah, what makes you think you can do that?” the second pony asked, aiming his crossbow at John. “You don’t want to mess with me. I’ve torn men apart, limb by limb. I’ve heard the screams of the bastards I’ve tortured. I am a war machine, designed for the sole purpose of killing. I’m gonna tell you one more time to fuck off, or be turned into a fine pink mist.” John thumbed the safety to semi-auto, and took aim. He fired. The bullet pinged off of the ground, causing the thieves to jump back. “Try me bitches.” The ponies immediately shot their crossbows at John. The bolt hit home, right in the center of John’s chest. But his Kevlar/ceramic hybrid body armor stopped the steel bolt, causing the tip to bend, and it to fall to the ground. John just laughed. The other thief shot their crossbow at John, but before it could hit him, a bullet went straight between his eyes, out the back of his head, and into the pony standing behind him. The first pony instantly dropped dead, blood and brains spilling out the back of his skull. The second pony fell to the ground, clutching his chest. “This ends now, you either leave, or die. You can’t defeat me,” John growled. He took out his sidearm, and walked right up to the pony, and put it in right between his eyes at point blank range. The pony tried to lift up his crossbow, and aim it at John, but before he could do so, John put a bullet in his brains. “I think that covers it,” he said to himself. He turned around, to see Twilight staring at him, eyes filled with tears, and his squad just shaking their heads. “Fuck.” The train pulled into Ponyville Station, upon where four humans and one pony exited. Twilight barreled through the crowd, eager to run away from SEAL Team Four. “Dude, you fucked up big time.” “I know, I fucked up big time. I need to go apologize,” John started walking towards the library, intent on giving Twilight an apology, whether she liked it or not. [Cancellation]I'm sorry guys, but this story has been cancelled, for a few reasons: My writing ability has been degrading. I was reading over the next chapter I was writing and it lacked detail. It was rushed. I'm starting to find myself not having enough time to finish these chapters. My friends always want to play GMod, CS:GO, or ArmA II with me, and I oblige, choosing fun over this story. I'm also doing a lot of family stuff now, and I have a project to work on for Social Studies. When I start to write chapters, it's not fun for me. I start writing, then it gets boring. The next thing I know I'm exiting out of Word and playing GMod. If this story was a big hit, like above 50 likes and under 5 dislikes, then I maybe would've continued it. I'm sorry readers, I let you down. It's not you guys, it's me. I won't be writing anymore. If anybody, ANYBODY wants to finish this story, be my guest. Copy and paste the first five chapters, or write your own version of them. Just, if you decide to, please send me a link to it. With that, for the last time, this is myhe01, signing out.
RiskThe sound of the HV-22 Osprey’s blades filled John’s ears as the tiltrotor aircraft started up its two RR T406 turboprop engines. SEAL Team Four was granted a mission to assassinate Faruk Al-Bashir, the secondary leader of the PLR. After Solomon, a former CIA operative, almost put an end to New York City with a WMD, the US waged war with the PLR, and went after its second-in-command. If this mission went well, it could mean an end to the Global War of 2014. If not, well let’s just say the world could end up in a nuclear winter. The charcoal colored Osprey began to shake as it lifted off of the ground, but the abruptly stopped when it was a few meters up. It tilted forwards as a ramper guided the Osprey with his wands. After a few second of guiding, to make sure the Osprey was clear of any obstructions, it lifted upwards. The Osprey tilted forwards, angling it’s propellerss. The aircraft quickly gained speed, and John turned his attention back to his squad. “Alright men, we know the objective!” John had to shout over the noise of the propeller blades. “We eliminate the HVT Faruk Al-Bashir! This mission is risky; the whole world rests on our shoulders! If there’s one little fuck-up, the world enters a nuclear winter! Got it?!” He was met by a chorus of ‘Yes Sir!’ “Alright! Check your damn weapons, equipment, and pack! Like I said, if we screw up, we’re not only dead, but the whole fuckin’ world!” John checked over his gear for the third time that evening. ‘Ok. M4, check. G18, check. Pack, check. CamelBak, check. Gear, check. Let’s get this shit done.’ John flipped his night-vision goggles over his face. The green light was blinding at first, but his pupils shrunk, and he was able to see around the cabin. All his men were checking their gear, and putting their goggles on. John took off his parachute, and made sure everything was packed correctly. The pilot’s voice called out over the intercom. “One klick until we reach the AO! Opening cargo doors!” John gave a thumbs up, and watched at the cargo door opened up, revealing a dark sky filled with shining white dots. He secured his strap to a bar in the cabin and walked over to examine over the edge. As he neared, the cold midnight air rushed up to meet him. John looked over the edge, and what he saw was fascinating. There were buildings everywhere, the streets packed with vehicles, despite it being 2 AM in Jeddah. “Ten seconds!” the pilot’s voice shouted. John walked back, and unsecured the karabiner from the bar. He joined up with his men in a straight line, him being last. He looked up, where a red light had just came on. A few seconds later, it turned green. “GO GO GO!” John shouted, as Cooper, Griffin, Brandon, and he jumped out of the aircraft. Like before, as he neared the opening, the cold air rushed up to greet him. The wind hit his face, making it slightly red from the temperature difference. After exiting the aircraft, he looked over at his wrist to see that he was nearing 2000 meters from sea level. Knowing that the land was a little above that, he estimated it to be about 1950 meters. Looking behind him, he could see the Osprey fly away from him. ‘There’s no going back now.’ After about a minute, he looked back at his wrist. It read 800m. ‘Time to deploy.’ They moved away from each other, and deployed their chutes. “ALRIGHT MEN! OBTAIN A HEADING OF 270!” They adjusted their ram-air parachutes to a heading of 270 degrees. All was quiet during their descent. No birds, crickets, or anything like that out here in the desert. John looked behind him to see the city lights slowly fading away. After couple moments of descending, SEAL Team Four touched down, their combat boots making a crunching sound on the coarse sand. They all quickly repacked their parachutes. “Alright, Brandon, set up your M98 on that hill over there.” John pointed at a large hill overlooking the compound where Al-Bashir was hiding. John restated the plan to make sure everything went off without a hitch. “Cooper and Griffin, you’re with me. We’re going to infiltrate the compound, and eliminate the HVT, and eliminate everybody that opposes with lethal force. Got it?” “Yes sir!” “Then let’s move!” John peeled the sticker off of the breaching explosives, and stuck it on the metal door. “Alright men! Stack up!” The bodies of the three SEALs pressed against the cool stone wall. Griffin was on the right of the door, with his SCAR-L. John and Cooper were on the left side with their M4A1 and M249. “Brandon, how copy, over?” John said into his radio. “Send.” “You covering us?” “Wilco. Out.” John looked over to his comrades. “Brandon’s got us covered. You ready.” “Affirmative,” said the SEALs. “BREACHING!” John pushed the detonator. There was a loud explosion, and a flash of orange light. “LET’S MOVE!” John cautiously stepped through the smoke, and headed to the left, M4 raised. Next was Griffin, who went to the right with his weapon raised. Last but not least was Cooper, who went forward, SAW raised. “CLEAR!” shouted John. They looked around. It was a shabby place. Tiles were cracked, some missing. There was one lit lightbulb overhead, hanging by a wire. Off to his left was a kitchen, which was surprisingly clean, compared to the rest of the place. Forwards was a staircase. John motioned for his squad to follow. They slowly went up the stairs, weapons raised. As John neared the second floor. He heard shouts, then a bullet struck the concrete not less than in inch from his head. Instead of backing away, he rushed forwards, and quickly took out both gunmen. He looked around to make sure there were no more hostiles, and then inspected the bodies. Once he was done, John stood back up. In front of him was the only door on the second floor, the one leading to Al-Bashir. He quietly moved to the door, and extended his left hand to the knob. Before his hand reached it. It twisted quickly, and a figure stepped out, holding an AK-74. That figure was Al-Bashir. They heard him shout something in Arabic, but before he could finish, his head exploded. Pink and white bits of brain and bone shards went everywhere. His limp body dropped to the floor, his AK going off from the impact. Luckily, the bullets went everywhere except into the SEALs. It took a second for John to process what happened. He then quickly turned on his radio. “Nice shot Brandon,” he said into the radio casually. “Thanks,” he heard static for a second, then Brandon was back on comms. “I see some tangos coming from the east to inspect the AO. ETA one minute. Get out of there! I’ll meet you at the LZ and radio for a ride. Over.” “We got ya Brandon. Moving to LZ. Out.” John got out a digital camera, and quickly snapped pictures of the body. After doing so, he put it away, and rushed through the door. They didn’t have time to grab intelligence, or identify the body, so they legged it to the LZ, where they would meet up with Brandon. The crunch of the sand beneath his boots, and the ragged breath of his squad mates was all he could hear. In the distance, he could see the same Osprey that picked them up with Brandon leaning out the side with one of the pilot’s P90. They reached the Osprey, and vaulted into the cabin. “Took ya long enough,” Brandon said jokingly. “Shut up.” John said in between breaths. His team had just run half a mile with 100 pounds of gear on. “It’s not like you had this much fucking gear on.” That was the truth. Since Brandon was only there to provide sniper support, he had half the weight of the gear that the other members of SEAL Team Four had. He still had acrylic plates and pockets full with .50 cal ammo, but, he had less of it. “Whatever. Yo’ Curt! Take us away!” Brandon shouted into the cockpit. The Osprey started to lift up and tilt forwards, heading away from the compound. John flipped up his night-vision goggles, which were caked with sand, and rubbed his forearm on his forehead. John secured his karabiner to the bar once again, wand walked over to the edge of the cabin. Since the pilots had not yet closed the doors, he could see the crowd of enemies down below. ‘That was a close one.’ He thought he saw one kneel down, holding a tube on his shoulder. ‘I hope that’s not what I think it is...’ “Brandon! Hand me your rangefinders!” He felt a weight land on his hand, his eyes never leaving the suspicious person. John pressed the rangefinders to his eyes. There was one Arabian kneeling down with a surface-to-air man-portable launcher aiming right at the Osprey. John felt a sense of dread come over him. “Oh fuck, we are so boned! We got a man-portable down there!” he shouted franticly. Suddenly, there was a bright flash from the ground, and a smoke trail steering itself towards the Osprey. “SHIT! GET DOWN!” There was a loud explosion, and a large shudder. John looked out, inspecting the engines. The left one was fine, but the right one was on fire. Then the Osprey started to tilt to the right. Suddenly, there was a green aura surrounding the Osprey that was getting brighter every second. “WE GOTTA JUMP!” yelled John. “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” shouted Griffin. “YES! NOW EVACUATE!” John ran to the cargo doors. “HE’S GONNA JUMP!” shouted Griffin. “YEAH HE IS! NOW JUMP!” shouted Cooper as he too ran to the doors. But before both SEALs could jump, there was a blinding flash. Sunlight seeped through John’s eyelids as he slowly came to. He immediately realized something was wrong. The reason being he had a face full of dirt. ‘Didn’t we crash is a desert?’ As soon as he started to remember last night, a piercing pain went through his skull. The feeling was akin to a large nail being driven through it. He clutched his head, hoping by doing this it would go away—but it was all in vain. He tried to subdue the pain by gritting his teeth, and going into a fetal position. Then suddenly, the pain went away as quickly as it came. John slowly rose up from the earth, trying to steady himself. He moved his hands around to try to grab on to anything. John felt his hand brush a tree. He moved his hand back, and then leaned on said tree. ‘Wait… There’s no trees in the desert.’ He suddenly opened his eyes, and took in his surroundings. In front of John was the twisted wreck of the HV-22. It was tilted sideways, the right wing completely crushed. However, the left wing barely had a scratch on it. He looked left and right. All there was, was endless forest. ‘Damn. How are we gonna get outta here?’ After the dizziness faded away, and his vision became clear, he walked up to mangled aircraft. Scattered around it were his squad mates, who were just beginning to stir. He acknowledged this, and walked inside of the aircraft. Everything in the aircraft was a mess. There was debris everywhere. Glass and dirt littered the side of the aircraft from where the right windows had broken. One of the left side benches, despite being bolted down, had fallen. John saw a reflection amongst the debris, and found Brandon’s rangefinders, still completely intact. ‘Score!’ John continued forwards, until he came to the cockpit. He pried the pilot’s head from the control panel so he could determine if he was alive or not. What he saw was a gruesome sight, even by his standards. The pilot’s plastic visor had broken into pieces, and lodged itself in both of his eyes. His chin was smashed in, and some parts of his cheek were missing, exposing his mouth. Also, his helmet and skull were cracked wide open. ‘Holy shit, I feel really bad for Curt. This is pretty gruesome, even by my standards.’ He pulled the body from the cockpit, and fireman-carried it out of the Osprey. He gently set the corpse down, and closed its eyes. He then went back in to check on the co-pilot, Larry. When he entered, what he saw wasn’t as gruesome at Curt, but he was dead nonetheless. Just like with Curt, he carried him out of the Osprey, and set him down next to his buddy. John kneeled down, and put his hands together, and whispered a short prayer, wishing the brave pilots a good time in the afterlife. After that, he used his right hand to touch his forehead, stomach, left, and then right shoulder, forming the Holy Trinity. He heard footsteps behind him, and then a hand on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be ok man,” reassured Griffin. John stood up to face his squad. “Alright men! We completed the mission, but we’ve spontaneously travelled to a different location. This is not time to slack. Brandon and I will dig a grave for Curt and Larry. I want you two to secure the perimeter. Cooper, I want you to get your collapsible shovel, and give it to Brandon.” He was met by a chorus of ‘Yes sir!’ John shrugged off his parachute, then his backpack. He moved the parachute out of his way, and then rifled through his backpack for his collapsible shovel. After about a minute of searching, he found it. John pulled it out, and opened it. Shovel in hand, he went over to Brandon, who was already digging a grave for Larry. John immediately started digging Curt’s. But unbeknownst to John, there were two pairs of eyes observing him. A few hours later, John wiped the sweat off his brow. Before him were two patches of dirt, approximately 6 feet tall and 2 feet wide. “Well, now that that’s done, we can report to Copper and Griffin,” he said. John reached for his radio, and pressed the ‘TALK’ button. “This is John, how copy, over?” “AO is secure. Over.” ‘Well that’s a relief.’ “Head back to crash sight. Out.” John cleaned the dirt off of his shovel, as Brandon did the same. He folded it up, and put it back in its case. John then picked up his M4, and switched on his EO-Tech Holographic sight. He held it downwards, finger perpendicular to the trigger. “Alright Brandon, let’s head back to the Osprey.” As John was waiting by the Osprey, he heard his radio crackle, then Cooper said something on the line. “John, we’ve found two civvies snooping on us. Most likely curious. I’ll bring them back to the crash site. ETA two minutes. Over.” “Rodger. Out.” John just waited there, while Brandon cleaned his .50 cal on a flat piece of scrap metal. “Man, all that sand really took a hit on my sniper,” said Brandon. “I gotta clean ‘er good.” Brandon applied some lubricate to the firing mechanism. He was checking his M4 out, when he heard six sets of footsteps. ‘I thought he said there was two civvies?’ If there’s six sets of footsteps, then this must not be them.’ He raised his M4, and cautiously took a step forwards. He saw some bushes rustle. “This is John Redbar of the United States Navy SEAL Team Four! Identify yourselves! If you will not identify within five seconds, you will be shot on sight!” “Whoa man, Chill! It’s just us,” came Griffin’s voice from behind the bushes. The SEAL then stepped out, raising his hands in the air, SCAR-L hanging by its strap. “We found two civvies—“ he started. “I heard six sets of footsteps. I thought you found two, not four,” interrupted John. “Yeah about that. It’s complicated. Let me just show you.” Griffin walked to the bush, and peeked his head in. “Alright, you can come out now.” John was confused for about why they would hide their appearance. Then the ponies stepped out of the bushes. One was a butter-colored pegasus with a pink mane, and the other was a lavender unicorn sporting a purple mane with a pink highlight. John leaned over and whispered to Brandon, whose eyes never left his gun since he started cleaning it. “Dude, am I high right now?” “What do you—“ Brandon started to turn around, and then saw the two ponies. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his jaw dropped. “John, Brandon, I’d like you to meet Twilight Sparkle,” he gestured to the purple unicorn. “and Fluttershy,” he guestured to the yellow pegasus.
MonstersJohn and Brandon stared at the two ponies, dumbfounded. The bush that they emerged out of rustled again. Combat training kicking in, John reached to his hip for his G18, swiftly unholstering it and pointing at the bush. He cautiously took a step forwards, and reached his hand towards the bush, intending to part the leaves. But, before he could do so, Cooper stepped out, and froze. “Whoa man! Get that this away from me!” Cooper called out. John swiftly pulled the automatic pistol away, and reholstered it. He walked back over to the group, and stood in front of Brandon, whose mouth was still open, and eyes wide. John then raised his hand and slapped him. Brandon’s mouth closed, and his eyes turned back to their normal size. “Dude, what the hell?!” Brandon called out, nursing his cheek. John gave no answer. He just simply walked up to Griffin, no emotion present. He stared at him for a few long seconds, though for Griffin, it felt like hours. He was never a fan of when John got angry. “Griffin, do you mind to explain WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” John shouted at Griffin with a shout loud enough to rival the Royal Canterlot Voice. A piercing cold-hearted stare came from John's eyes. “You know what? Fuck this! I need some time to think,” he threw his hand up into the air, and walked towards the downed Osprey. They all stared at the spot he just was, not knowing what to do. “I think we should give him some time alone,” whispered Cooper. Sometime later, John emerged from the downed Osprey. He looked around and saw the group chatting. John walked over to them. As he drew near, the group started to stand up, and the SEALs put on their gear. They started to say something to him, but he held his hand up silencing them. “Guys—and ponies. I’m sorry for my outburst,” he said. He rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands crossed behind his back. “That was very unprofessional of me, especially when meeting new pe—ponies. He suddenly felt two pairs of arms wrapped around him. He flinched, but held once he realized that it was the two ponies he met earlier. He looked up to meet Cooper’s gaze, but he just shrugged. The two ponies then released from the hug, then just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. But it was Twilight who broke the ice. “I think we should head back to Ponyville, it’s starting to get dark, and you don’t want to be in the Everfree forest after dark!” she exclaimed. Brandon looked at her with a questioning gaze. “What’s so bad about the Everfree forest?” he asked. Twilight was obviously frightened, and looked left and right before whispering into Brandon’s ear. He had a neutral face, until Twilight pulled away. Then he burst out laughing. He continued to laugh, until he out of breath. He wiped a tear away from his eye. “Brandon, what’s so funny?” asked Griffin. John, along with Cooper, were wondering the same thing too. “She just said that the clouds move on their own, animals take care of themselves, and there are scary monsters.” By now, the SEALs couldn’t hold it in any longer. They all burst out laughing. Once they stopped, Twilight looked at them, anger on her face. “The Everfree Forest in nothing to joke about!” she said sternly. They all just looked at each other, and shrugged. “Alright, fine,” Brandon admitted in defeat. “Good,” she turned away from them, and started to walk towards the path that led to Ponyville. “Let’s head back to Ponyville.” The men just shrugged, and followed the two ponies, but they didn’t get far, as they heard three high-pitched screams. The Cutie Mark Crusaders trotted through the eerie forest, on a quest to earn their monster catching cutie marks. Oblivious to the trio, a certain predator was watching them, waiting for their future meal to falter, so he take advantage of that moment, and pounce. Suddenly, the orange one (which resembled a chicken to the manticore) fell, and grunted in pain. The manticore took this opportunity to pounce. The lion-scorpion-dragon creature stalked out of the bush, and towards its prey. The creatures turned suddenly when they heard his pawsteps, and a look of pure fear adorned their faces. The manticore raised its wings high, and licked his lips to seem all the more scarier. His meal shrieked in fear, and took off running. He noticed the orange one was limping slightly, and he chose that one to be his appetizer. Although the three fillies outran the manticore, he was going at a slow pace. He liked his meals with a hint of adrenaline. After a few moments of running, the manticore had enough, and pounced towards the orange one. The other two stopped in their tracks, and stared at what was about to happen to their friend. The manticore held the little filly in his paws, haunches on the ground. He licked his lips in anticipation, and opened his massive jaws, about to take a bite, when he noticed the bushes rustling, and a creature stepped out, holding a metal tube with two handles. The manticore, upset with this interruption, set the filly down. He didn’t care if it ran away, he just wanted to teach this unwanted visitor a lesson. He got in a fighting stance, face low to the ground, wings spread out, and stinger raised high. He roared, and then pounced. (Switch POV) The lion thing pounced at John. He swung his M4 around, and hit the creature with it like it was a baseball bat. He then took the stock of the gun and jammed it into the lion’s face multiple times, but the thing would not give up. John decided that it was out for blood, and switched the safety off of his M4. He lined up the sights, and put four bullets into the manticore. It wobbled around a bit, then fell, blood oozing everywhere. John walked up to it, and put two bullets into its head, just to be sure it was dead. Suddenly, the bushes John emerged from started rustling, and five figures burst out of it. John leveled his carbine at them, but put it down once he realized it was his squad and the two ponies. But before anyone (or pony) could say anything, Fluttershy saw the dead manticore, and ran off to it, tears streaming down her face. Twilight was frozen in shock. She didn’t know what to say. All she did was stare at the manticore, then John, then back at the manticore. John slowly walked up to her, and put a hand on her shoulder, but his hand only made contact for a minuscule amount of time, before she whipped around and bared her teeth. John jerked his hand away from the now menacing pony. He tried to back away, but he felt like he was frozen in place. He tried to look away from her eyes, but there was something about them that made him freeze in place. He felt like he wanted to confess all his sins, but his vocal cords didn't obey his commands. The rest of SEAL Team Four could tell he was struggling, and they leveled their firearms at Fluttershy. “Ma’am, release John now, or we will use lethal force,” commanded Cooper. He didn’t know what was controlling John, but he knew as soon as Fluttershy turned to face his friend, he froze in place. She turned away from him, and John dropped to the ground, gasping for air. “He killed him,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “I’m sorry that I killed him!” John yelled in between wheezes. “It was either the lion thing, or those three ponies!” At the words ‘three ponies’, Fluttershy turned her head over to where John was pointing. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision when she ran to the aid of the manticore, so she couldn’t see the Crusaders sitting on their haunches in shock over what just happened. “Oh, girls!” Fluttershy ran over to where the Crusaders were, and hugged them tightly. “C’mon, let’s get back to my cottage.” The three fillies snapped out of their trance, and began walking away, tears streaming down their faces. Before Twilight could say anything, John held a hand up. “Let me explain.” He got up, dusted himself off, and walked over to Twilight. “I am a soldier,” he bagan. “I fight so people don’t have to. I don’t fight what‘s in front of me, I fight for what’s behind me. I may seem like a cruel heartless monster, but I have a family and friends, and I fight for my country, so I can keep them safe. What you saw was not for fun, and it definitely was not an accident. That lion-thing—“ “Manticore,” she corrected, her tone neutral. “Manticore, was going to kill and/or eat those three little fillies. If I had not been there to stop it, they would be gone forever. I’m pretty sure Fluttershy knows them well, judging by her reaction. Like I said before, I fight so others don’t have to. I know I am a soldier; a killing machine—but I’m proud of it. Call me what you want, but I will always be a soldier,” John concluded his improvised speech. Twilight had no emotion on her face. She just got up, and walked away. “C’mon,” she said in a monotone voice. “We’re going back to Ponyville.”
ArrivalThe group emerged from the forest, a strange sight to anypony who’s never seen a human before. Twilight, still not knowing what to think about the ‘killing machines’, kept on lumbering along, paying no mind whatsoever to the gasps and frantic galloping around her as she entered the town. Locks clicked, doors slammed, tumbleweeds… tumbled. The entire town had looked like it was abandoned. Twilight still paid no mind, and trudged along, not breaking pace, and staring straight ahead. A large tree soon came into view. All four men looked up in awe at it. “Hol—“ Brandon started, but was silenced by a combat glove covering his mouth. John decided that he didn’t want to push Twilight over the edge after his impromptu speech. When the group arrived at the tree, Twilight pushed open the door using her magic revealing a small library bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun. She continued upstairs, but paused at the last step. “You sleep down here. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.” The door slammed shut, and silence filled the library. “Alright guys, I guess—we rest,” with that sentence, John took off his gear, and laid his head on his backpack, and fell asleep. John awoke to glass shattering, and hitting the floor. He kept his eyes closed, so the intruder didn’t know he was awake. Slowly, John reached for his G18 equipped with a tactical light, and his ACB-90. He flicked the safety off of the Glock, and held the pistol in his right, and knife in his left. He slowly rose to a crouched position, and moved over to where the sound was coming from. He came to a door, and he heard more glass breaking behind it. ‘Shit, burglar. Should I go stealth, or not?’ He pondered this for a moment before he made his decision. (Switch POV) The burglar smashed his way through the window, and quietly, stepped inside. ‘Ok, ok, what is there to steal?’ He looked around the room he was standing in. It was a study, with a few bookshelves and a desk. He softly tiptoed (tiphoofed?) around the room looking for something interesting. ‘A bookshelf, nah—bits wouldn’t be hidden there.’ He made his way over to the desk, his dark gray coat blending with the shadows. He looked over the top of the desk, knocking stuff away, trying to find his prize. Suddenly, he put a little too much force on moving an empty glass inkwell, and it fell off of the desk, and smashing to pieces on the ground below it. ‘Horseapples, I gotta be more careful.’ He went through a few more drawers, nothing catching his attention, until he opened the last drawer. In it was a box marked ‘Emergency Bits’. ‘Good, I found what I was looking for.’ The burglar carefully avoided the broken glass, and was about to step out the window when he felt his mouth being covered by a rough fabric, and a knife being pressed to his neck. He then heard a rough voice, one that sounded like it wanted nothing more than to kill him. “Now you listen here,” John whispered. “You have five seconds to give me everything you stole, and never come back, or I will slit your throat on the spot. Five.” He frantically tried to break free. “Four.” He tried even harder, but to no avail. “Three.” He decided that he should give everything up. “Two.” He dug through his saddlebags, frantically trying to get them off. “One.” He felt the knife slowly start to slide across his throat, the blade pressing into his fur. ‘This is the end of me…’ Suddenly, the clasp loosened, and he relieved the weight from his back. The grip on him instantly loosened, and he scrambled out the window, the shards scraping his skin. The sun peaked over the mountains, its beautiful light shining through the windows of the library. Brandon, Griffin and Cooper awoke from their sleep, and sat up, rubbing away the sleep from their eyes. “Best fuckin’ sleep since I got a vacation off,” exclaimed Cooper. “I second that bro,” agreed Griffin. Brandon simply just yawned. “Hey, anybody seen John?” The men staggered forwards, looking for their comrade. They walked through a doorway, and found him it the kitchen, his M4 dissembled and miniature gun cleaning kit out. They watched as he lubricated the bolt carrier, and then assemble it. He put it back in the carbine, and closed the top half and securing it in place. “Mornin’,” he said as he started to take apart his pistol, and clean it also. “Ah nothing. Why are you up so early?” asked Brandon. “Some dumbass tried to rob the place last night. I didn’t even show him my bad side, and he went runnin’.” “How come we didn’t hear it?” John continued cleaning his sidearm. “I’m a light sleeper. Always alert.” Before Brandon could say anymore, he heard the clopping of hooves on wood, and sure enough, the purple pony came through the doorway. “Mornin’,” she muttered before searching for the materials to make coffee. John saw what she was making, and asked if he could have some. “Sure, how’d you like it?” “Black.” She cringed at the thought of drinking black coffee, but she made it anyways. “Here,” she use her magic to hand him the coffee. “Thanks,” he replied, before sipping his coffee. “So uh Twilight,” John started. “A burglar broke it last night.” “Oh yeah, that’s nice, a burglar broke in…” she took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes grew wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She spat out her coffee, making a light brown mist. “A BURGLAR BROKE IN?!” she yelled. “Whoa, calm down,” John held his hands in the air, trying to get her to calm down. “I took care of it. There’s just a mess and some broken glass, no need to worry about it.” “Wait,” she glared suspiciously at John. “How did you take care of it?” “I just threatened him to return your things and leave, I didn’t kill the bastard.” She wiped the sweat from her brow. “Well that’s a relief, I thought you killed him.” John looked Twilight in the eyes. “I don’t kill for fun. I kill only when I need to.” Even though he had a poker face that could rival Celestia’s, his eyes betrayed him. He looked like he had seen some things he had never wanted to see. ~~~ The trucks rumbled through the small Iraqi village, kicking up dust left and right. “This is Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, how copy, over?” Victor reached for the radio. “This is Misfit Three Two to Misfit Actual, solid copy. We’re nearing the objective. Just four more klicks, over.” “Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, you know your role, out.” Victor hooked the microphone back on the hook of the Humvee’s radio. “You guys ready to kick some ass?” Victor turned to face the two men in the back. John and Jericho just nodded. Victor was about to turn back around when the driver shouted out. “RPG!” The Rocket Propelled Grenade hit the first vehicle of the convoy, blowing it to scrap. The driver swerved the HMMWV around the hunk of metal, and through the dust. As the vehicle emerged, an explosion rocked the Humvee, tipping it on its side. “Get out! Fucking ambush!” shouted Victor. The five men crawled out of the useless vehicle, and fell to the ground, doing a somersault before standing upright, weapons drawn. Around them was chaos. Bullets and RPGs were streaking through the air. Explosions were rocking the ground. Soldiers were dying around them. Suddenly, Jericho’s head exploded. “Fucking move! Sniper!” shouted Victor. Misfit Three entered the nearest building, weapons raised. “Clear the rooms!” The men went through every room, checking for hostiles. Once the rooms were clear, they all met up back in the main room. “Ok!” started Victor. “We’re in some pretty deep shit right about now! We need to—“ he suddenly was silenced as the blade of a knife plunged through his neck. His body fell limp to the ground, blood pooling around his now lifeless body. Standing where he was, was an Iraqi man, the white turban on his head stained with blood and riddled with bullet holes. He raised up his rusted AK-47, and pulled the trigger. The former gunner of the Humvee fell to the ground, lifeless. It was now only John and the driver. The man shouted something unrecognizable, but it died in his throat as John pulled the trigger on his M16. “Goddammit. We’ve lost three men, and it hasn’t been five minutes. You know what, that’s it, I’m breaking radio silence.” John pulled the mic near his mouth, and pressed the ‘TALK’ button. “Misfit Three Three to Misfit Actual, our situation has gone FUBAR! We got ambushed three klicks from the objective, we need air support now!” “Misfit Actual to Misfit Three Three, we’re sending air support from the nearest FOB. Standby, out.” Suddenly, another figure burst through the door, but this one was a lot smaller. The driver saw that it was a child, and moved forwards to welcome him in a hug, but John was a little more observant. It the child’s right hand was a piece of metal, shaped like a detonator. “Shit! Get down!” John dove sideways as the child squeezed the detonator. The explosion rocked the whole building, and he was blasted backwards. “Fucking bitches sending children!” he shouted angrily as he moved a slab of concrete off of him. He looked around for his M16, and found it a few meters away. He picked it up, and pulled back halfway on the charging handle to make sure there was a bullet chambered. He shouldered the rifle, and started to head back outside, when he heard the thumping of helicopter blades. He looked outside, and was relieved to see two AH-6 Littlebirds making gun runs on the village. After waiting a few minutes, the impact of Hydra rockets stopped, and John assumed with was safe. He opened the door, rifle drawn, and looked up and down the street. He went out a little further, and to his relief, saw a MH-60 Blackhawk hovering a few inches above the street. The Air Force PJs were loading several wounded into the chopper. John made a break for it. The helicopter was a few more meters away. “Hey!” he shouted to get the attention of the crew. “Got any room to spare?” The PJ gave a thumbs up, and waved him in. ~~~ “John? John! JOHN!” John shook his head. “What happened?” he asked. “You just froze, staring off into space,” exclaimed Twilight. “Sorry,” said John. “I just had this really bad memory…” “Ok, I'm glad you're alright. Anyways, we’re going to see the princess in Canterlot. I sent her letter and I’m sure she’ll want to meet you. “Ok, I guess that’s good. C’mon men, suit up,” said John as he walked off to ready his gear. The Friendship Express chugged up the mountain, en route to Canterlot. “So, uh, John. Can you tell me about the metal thing you have in your hand that killed the manticore?” she asked. “Well, as you know already, it can kill very quickly. It fires at about 800 rounds per minute.” John ejected the magazine, and took a bullet out. “This,” he handed Twilight the bullet. “Is the real killer. It’s a standard 5.56 NATO round. The gun doesn’t kill, it’s the bullet. He watched as she instantly dropped it, moving as far away from it as possible. John gave a few chuckles. “The bullet is not effective without the gun. You see this here,” John disassembled the rifle, and showed her the firing pin. “This metal rod, the firing pin, jams into a little circle in the back of the bullet, igniting to powder, propelling the actual bullet,” he pointed out the top of the bullet. “Oh, I get it now!” she exclaimed. “It’s kind of like the muskets the Royal Guards are experimenting with. “Yeah, only these are much more powerful.” The train soon arrived at Canterlot station. Twilight, John, Brandon, Griffin, and Cooper stepped off of the train, and headed towards the castle.
TreasureThe trio strode out of the Canterlot Junction, and were immediately met with the sight of the castle several blocks ahead. “C’mon,” Twilight started to trot towards the castle. “The castle isn’t far from the station.” As they walked towards the goal, they were met with a barrage of slander from the monsters we call Canterlot snobs. “What a hideous creature!” “Insolent whelps!” “Get away from me!” These were just a few of the complaints the citizens of Canterlot. “These dicks probably have their nose so far up their ass that they don’t know what they’re stepping in,” whispered Brandon. Cooper snickered. “Ugh, just ignore them. They think they’re so sure of themselves,” said Twilight. “We’re almost there anyways.” A few more blocks away was the giant castle, sparkling with yellow and white in the morning sun. “Halt!” suddenly shouted a voice. “You will immediately desist and come with me for interrogation.” Lo and behold was a white-colored Solar Guard, spear at the ready. “It’s ok,” Twilight said. “They’re with me.” “Be quiet peasant.” As soon as John heard this, he unholstered his G18, and aimed it point blank at the guard’s face. “You take that back right fucking now,” he growled. “You dare challenge me?” replied the guard. “John, I don’t think—“ “Yes I challenge you, you fucking douchebag.” “Then so be it! I challenge you to a hoof-to-hoof spar! The first pony to be knocked out loses.” “That’s not fair—for you!” shouted John. He holstered his Glock, and dove at the guard. He threw a left hook, and sent a roundhouse kick to the guard’s legs, knocking them out from under him. He punched him a few times, and kicked him for good measure. “You will not win,” the guard gasped, but John sent a kick to his face, knocking him out cold. “John, I don’t think that was the best way to settle that.” “He’ll be fine,” John replied, and hefted the guard onto his shoulder. The group soon passed through the gates of the castle, and were met by more guards, this time, they were carrying muskets that looked like something the Minutemen would use. “Halt!” one of them shouted. You are to—“ “Bitch, please. I just defeated one of your guard in a sparring match in ten seconds flat. Don’t fuck with me.” He emphasized this by dropping the unconscious guard to the ground. “How dare you insult us! We are the finest—“ “Heard it, seen it, got the T-shirt. Now shut the fuck up.” “That’s it! Stallions! Ready your—“ the guard was cut off by a regal-sounding voice. “What is the meaning of this?” questioned Princess Celestia. All guards, and Twilight bowed to the solar diarch. “This is how you treat diplomats? For shame! Back to your posts,” she commanded. The guards looked at John, and sauntered back to their posts. Princess Celestia walked up to them. “I’m terribly sorry for their behavior, they can get a little antsy sometimes, especially after the recent Changeling Invasion. Anyways, welcome to Equestria. We have a lot to discuss. Come.” The Princess turned, and headed into the castle. “So tell me, how long have you been here?” Celestia asked, sipping her tea. “Well, we haven’t been here long, about twenty-nine hours actually,” replied John. “Well, what if I told you that you are not the first things to transpire into this world. Here, I’ll show you.” Celestia got up, and walked to a wall. She felt along the wall for a moment, until she found a hole where she inserted her hoof, where it seemed to disappear into the wall. Suddenly, there was a click, and part of the wall slid open, revealing a lit staircase. “Come.” The Princess started to walk down the stairs, and the rest followed. The wall shut with a shudder. “So what are we doing down here?” asked John, eyeing the wall cautiously. "We have had other objects teleport from your world into ours, but you are the first living beings that have come through." She walked up to a door, and inserted her horn into it. “This…” the door opened up with a hiss. “…is Vault 2. It contains object from you’re world, and we have quite a lot of them. The stone slab door opened up to reveal a massive warehouse that contained everything from A-10s, to ZU-23s. “Holy shit. This thing is massive! Abrams, Blackhawks, Harriers, Apaches, I don’t know what to say!” The warehouse was massive, containing almost anything you could think of. In one section were wheeled vehicles, in another were tracked vehicles, another were planes, then helicopter, then firearms. The whole warehouse had to be at least a square mile. “I can see that you’re amazed. I will give you permission to use the items of your choosing, on one condition.” Said Celestia. “What’s the condition?” asked John as he was examining an AN-94. “The condition is that you are to be Ponyville’s law enforcement, and Royal Guard Special Forces."
Enemys“The condition is that you are to be Ponyville’s law enforcement, and Royal Guard Special Forces." "Wait, what?" asked John with confusion. Celestia repeated her sentence. "You are—" "No, I heard what you said," John interrupted. "It's just that, why?" "John, what I am about to tell you may be hard for you. There is no chance of you being able to be sent home," John's life shattered before him. "Wait, no no no!" Why me? Why? Why can't I ever see my family again? Sophie and Zach—I'll never see them again..." he fell to his knees, looking at the ground solemnly. "Why me?" "John, don't worry too much. We will try to make your life in Equestria as good as possible," she walked up to John, and put a wing around her comfortingly. “Everything—it’s gone,” he said with a whisper. “Shh, it’s ok. Not everything is gone. You still have your friends.” John looked up to see his friend’s faces of sympathy. The look in their eyes is all he needed to get back up. “You’re right,” he started. “Even though I’ve lost everything, the things I still have to live for are right in front of me. C’mon men, let’s get some gear.” As John was roaming the piles of devices, he strolled into the section of small electronics to see what he could find. As he was gazing into the pile, something caught his eye. “What’s that, wait—is that what I think it is?” He jogged over to a teal GameBoy Color with the name ‘John’ written on the back with Sharpie. “Holy shit! I was wondering where that went. It even still has Pokémon Crystal in it! This is so cool!” he let out a fangirlish-like squee. Once he realized what he was doing, he immediately stopped, pocketed the GameBoy, and moved on. The men picked quite a lot out of Vault 2. For weapons, they picked 16 M4s, 8 P90s, 24 M9s, 8 M1911s, 4 G24s, 4 AN-94s, 2 M249s, 2 M60s, 2 M107s, and 4 Mk12s. For vehicles, they picked 1 UH-60M, 1 AH-6J, 1 LAV-25, 1 M1A2 TUSK, 2 HMMWV M2s, 1 LAV-AD, and 1 Stryker MGS. Every item they picked needed ammo, so they picked out a year’s worth for each and every thing. Even if they ran out, they could always come back for more. “So that settles everything Princess. Also, do you think you could build us a base of operations? We need a place to put this all.” “Yes, of course I will. Do you think you could draw a design, and send it to me within a few days? I will have Equestria’s finest contractors aid you once you send me a design.” “Of course I will. I’ll have it to you within the week. Also, thank you for all this,” said John. “No problem, just all I ask of you is to keep Ponyville, and Equestria safe. Also, before I forget, take this,” Celestia handed them an envelope. John took the envelope, and stuffed it in his pack, careful not to fold it. “See ya’ later Princess,” John and his friends waved, and she waved back. “So I guess we head to the train station?” asked Cooper. “Yep. C’mon, let’s sprint there. We haven’t gotten any PT since we got here.” The train chugged away from Canterlot, steam rising in the air. “So tell me what you picked out from that massive vault?” Twilight asked with curiosity. “Well, we picked out a lot of rifles, like my M4 and Griffin’s SCAR. Also, we got a couple of helicopters, some light armor, heavy armor, and an anti-air system. Here, I’ll show you.” John pulled out his iPhone 5S in a Lifeproof case, and pressed the sleep/wake button to turn it on. “Whoa, what’s that?” asked Twilight, gently lifting the smartphone out of John’s grasp. “That, is called a smartphone. An iPhone 5S to be exact. It is a com—“ Suddenly, the windows of the train burst inwards, sending shards of glass everywhere. Four ponies wielding crossbows and wearing balaclavas boarded the train. “Give us all your valuables, and nopony gets hurt!” the first pony shouted. Ponies screamed, and started throwing everything at them, from necklaces, bracelets, even an iron, resulting in one of the robbers getting knocked out. “Fuck off,” John stood up, and aimed his M4 at the intruders. “Oh yeah, what makes you think you can do that?” the second pony asked, aiming his crossbow at John. “You don’t want to mess with me. I’ve torn men apart, limb by limb. I’ve heard the screams of the bastards I’ve tortured. I am a war machine, designed for the sole purpose of killing. I’m gonna tell you one more time to fuck off, or be turned into a fine pink mist.” John thumbed the safety to semi-auto, and took aim. He fired. The bullet pinged off of the ground, causing the thieves to jump back. “Try me bitches.” The ponies immediately shot their crossbows at John. The bolt hit home, right in the center of John’s chest. But his Kevlar/ceramic hybrid body armor stopped the steel bolt, causing the tip to bend, and it to fall to the ground. John just laughed. The other thief shot their crossbow at John, but before it could hit him, a bullet went straight between his eyes, out the back of his head, and into the pony standing behind him. The first pony instantly dropped dead, blood and brains spilling out the back of his skull. The second pony fell to the ground, clutching his chest. “This ends now, you either leave, or die. You can’t defeat me,” John growled. He took out his sidearm, and walked right up to the pony, and put it in right between his eyes at point blank range. The pony tried to lift up his crossbow, and aim it at John, but before he could do so, John put a bullet in his brains. “I think that covers it,” he said to himself. He turned around, to see Twilight staring at him, eyes filled with tears, and his squad just shaking their heads. “Fuck.” The train pulled into Ponyville Station, upon where four humans and one pony exited. Twilight barreled through the crowd, eager to run away from SEAL Team Four. “Dude, you fucked up big time.” “I know, I fucked up big time. I need to go apologize,” John started walking towards the library, intent on giving Twilight an apology, whether she liked it or not.
[Cancellation]I'm sorry guys, but this story has been cancelled, for a few reasons: My writing ability has been degrading. I was reading over the next chapter I was writing and it lacked detail. It was rushed. I'm starting to find myself not having enough time to finish these chapters. My friends always want to play GMod, CS:GO, or ArmA II with me, and I oblige, choosing fun over this story. I'm also doing a lot of family stuff now, and I have a project to work on for Social Studies. When I start to write chapters, it's not fun for me. I start writing, then it gets boring. The next thing I know I'm exiting out of Word and playing GMod. If this story was a big hit, like above 50 likes and under 5 dislikes, then I maybe would've continued it. I'm sorry readers, I let you down. It's not you guys, it's me. I won't be writing anymore. If anybody, ANYBODY wants to finish this story, be my guest. Copy and paste the first five chapters, or write your own version of them. Just, if you decide to, please send me a link to it. With that, for the last time, this is myhe01, signing out.
