The Apocalypse Trots

by Zenity Pony

Rating: mature
Tags: Tragedy, Dark, Alternate Universe, Sad, Anthro
Length: 400

After coming out of a coma in a hospital somewhere in Equestria, a weary and confused Dead Shot finds himself in a terrifying world much different from the one he remembered being in.

As Lieutenant of the Baltimare Military Police, Dead Shot was at the front of all hostile situations. While dealing with a group of well armed robbers, Dead Shot was severely injured and went unconscious. As the doctors tried to repair the damage to his body, he falls into a coma and wakes up a couple years later in a ravaged hospital that is occupied by a few medical staff and military personal. The world has changed for the worse and Dead Shot is gonna find out just how bad of a time it was to wake up from a coma.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-03 01:24:23 UTC

Prologue

Prologue

You never know the future.  You never know how it all end; not until it’s all gone you don’t.  These are the simple rules of life and death.  Life can not be predicted or predetermined, through no faith and no belief can one exactly see how we all live and die, win or fail. Many say life is all too short to do everything and life is too precious to waste.  Think about those words as you watch as the world burns.  Every day does not go by without a single person wishing to see it all go down with them.  And as this world dies and decays; the soul ripped from its heart like a maggot fallen prey to a bird, we do not know what to do, but sit, watch and cry for those we lose and those we gain.  This world we live in is scarred beyond recognition and it wishes for nothing but a quick death through suicidal intentions, but it will not let go before we let go.  And so from this, we watch the world burn day after day and turn as cold as my heart night after night.  For in all this chaos, there are those who simply reminisce about the days of old and there are those who wipe all emotion from their very being and push on.

I am the one that pushed on. Every fiber of my being drained of sadness, anger, happiness, or fear.  I am a zombie in my own sense as I tear through those who stand in my way and never once glance back to see the wretched aftermath of my life.  For in this world, I am no longer who I was.  Those who loved me now only whisper my name in mourning for the one they knew, but I died with the world.  Any sign of remembering who I was was carried away when the winds of hell came down upon us and engulfed my existence in a demise that outmatches Tartarus.  Through all this what do I see? I see the souls of the slain and the tortured and they haunt my every waking moment and every night that my eyes close. I can no longer feel what it means to be someone anymore, for I only feel the numb of the cold that took over my once warm heart.