I've never been a early riser. You could almost say it was my personal mission to never wake up. I could care less about the early bird getting the worm or the Pegasus kicking the clouds or whatever saying fits your fancy.

Morning was not my time.

Curling farther under the covers, I pulled cold pillows over my head. Damn, was it loud outside. Some pony and some pony were going at it. Whoever they were they had a beef alright; screaming and yowling like cats in heat. Hell, I'd call the cops if not for the weight over my eyes.

Not my problem anyway.

Anyway, Ms.Treble across the hall was probably already fetching her broom and winding up for the bat. She was the resident keeper of the peace. All sorts of peace. Couldn't bring a friend over without her burning a look into ya, summing up non existent sins. One time she almost took my apartment's door off the hinges during a game of cards against Equestria for the things we were saying. That look on her face was priceless.....

Huh?

Odd, I don't remember her face having that many holes in it. Or being this close to mine. Or any bucking maggots!

"Sweet Celestia!" I cried out, flailing a leg at the thing sitting next to me in bed. With a sound best described as "plofpt" the mushy (Oh Luna!) head (Oh Luna!!!) collapsed inwards when my right fore hoof accidentally made contact. Whatever was supposed to be bone was the consistency of soft gelatin and whatever was supposed to be eyes were now big juicy fly babies gorging themselves.

As any sensible pony would do, I screamed bloody Mary. Then vomited. Then screamed and vomited.

And better yet the more I kicked the more tangled I became in my own sheets. Plummeting out of bed onto the hard floor with a crack, I froze long enough for one of the blankets to float up and over my face. Now blind and mostly immobile from my makeshift mummy wrappings I flung my forelegs up and swung out more violently.

More bubbling vomit only muffled my incoherent screaming as the head started to slide down my hoof. Not up. Not off. Down! As in it started at the top were I initially punched it's nose it, then preceded to slip farther onto my leg. Tossing my head side to side I manage to get a view for one eye. Now I wish I hadn't

Grayish drippings with the viscosity of thick maple syrup was being leaked all over me.

With nothing left in my stomach to give I gasped out gurgled noises until my mind kicked in with some sort of saving grace. Out of my own control, my three other limbs manage to come together awkwardly under it's trapped brethren and kick upwards at the head. (OH LUNA!!!!!!) The thing broke apart with a "Fluurpft".

Free at last!

Then the gears of my mind stalled leaving me to quietly take in the absurd moment.

Moldy mattress. Peeling wallpaper. Pillows stuffed with something colorful. Was that pony hair? Moving on - a creepy bunny shaped clock staring down off the wall, the numbers faded and unreadable. Scraps of paper lining a poorly built bookcase. Framed drawing of a unicorn family. Bottles of empty liquor collecting dust under the rusty bed frame. And lets not forget that partially destroyed disembodied head I had the pleasure of waking up to this fine morning.

When the gears started up again (Just a few more hours, days, years, please!), I rocketed out of that room as fast as my coiled sheets allowed. Which wasn't very fast at all. Catching the cloth on a raised floorboard, I tumbled head over heels out a crumbling doorway into another room crash landing my chin on the edge of a coffee table. Yikes, did I piss off karma or something?

The pain hissed for a second before fading. Trying to stand up the best I could, the last bit of bedding still clinging on finally let go. Inhaling, I - Oh buck me! The rainbow of smells almost sent me falling again. Covering my nose, I looked around.

This wasn't my apartment. Nor my parents' house. Or that buddy of mine's place I sometimes crashed at. If it wasn't for the furniture I bet this wasn't somepony's home at all.

Where in Equestria was I?

Hissing. Lots and lots of hissing had interrupted my investigation of the building I was in. Well, it was more of a shack then a building, held together by rusted nails and scraps of wood and metal. I didn't know of a place like this, at least not in an area near the cities. Some ponies might be poor, but this poor? It was odd to me.

I tried the front door already but it was locked with a heavy duty padlock. By the way it sparked when I touched it, I would guess magically.The windows were boarded up as well. After catching my breaths (this was a nightmare, right?) I felt the strong need to clean up. Doing my best to regard the stuff dripping down my legs as anything other then pony goo, I ransacked the bathroom. Of course this being a poor excuse for a house, it didn't have proper toiletry functions. No porcelain throne in sight. Good thing I didn't have to go.

What was their was a basin for a bathtub/sink, and a large standee mirror that didn't fit in. It looked like it had been taken from a well off family or a high end hotel. The beautiful ornate carvings in the wood frame were calling for a proper wiping with a name brand cleaner. I felt a ping of sadness to see how abused it was. The glass was also gone.

The washbasin had stale water filling it haft way. Okay, eww. I was not going to touch that. That's when a little yellow box entered my vision. The butterfly motif was badly faded, but I had a good guess what was inside. Or I think I did. I'd never seen one of these before? Um, maybe?

Brushing that aside I pulled the medical supplies out with an over abundance of glee. Clean white bandages greeted me with foal wipe packets and antiseptic cream. The spot where a healing potion should have been was empty. With vigor I tore open the wipes and rubbed off the drying material from my body. It was as I applied the cream (bacteria be damned) that I heard the first hiss.

The image of the head jumped forward. Hah, no. Don't be stupid. Decapitated heads don't hiss. Right?

Snakes do that. But this didn't sound like a little snake. Didn't sound like one at all if I was being honest. The noise was coming from the front of the shack. Closing the box, I slowly peeked out of the bathroom. Nothing yet. I jumped back, slipping on one of the used wipes, as something hit the front door with enough force to crack the wood.

Luckily, the washbasin was there to catch me.

Opening my eyes I yawned, my mouth filling with water. Dazed and confused I didn't understand why I had decided to suddenly take a swim while napping. I know I needed the exercise but this was a little ridiculous. Then like the water, realization flooded my senses. Shit!

Lunging forward over the edge of the basin, I coughed violently. Water drained out onto the floor until I could only hang there and groan. If I didn't already have brain damage then I did now. And here I thought my day was going swimmingly.

The water splashed.

At first I thought it was me, but I wasn't moving. Another splash, like a hoof step. Then another and another and another. I went deathly still as the owner of those very steps hissed. They leaned over my head and I could smell them as they stood before me. It was musty, like mothballs and old laundry covered in copious amounts of rotted meat. But of course it wasn't unwashed socks, because that would be tolerable.

I tried not to look, but that part of everypony that makes them do stupid things was running the show now. Gazing up I saw the embodiment of "nope". Not like, "Nah I don't want that one.", but more like "Holy Celestia's fiery ass drop the moon on it!"

Rotting. The pony before me was rotting apart, cheek bones protruding through as it faced me. It's mane was almost gone with only stringy strands of once pink hair sticking against the torn scalp. It's eyes glowed lightly in the dim of the room, deep red like ripe apples. It kept opening and closing it's mouth slightly as if speaking, but it's verbal skills were reduced to that one steady hiss.

Embedded in it's neck was the handle of some tool, likely a screwdriver.

I've seen those zombie movies. I know how this ends. Yet for a nightmare zombie pony it was doing a whole lot of nothing. That should have been a good thing. Except it was just standing around staring at the soaking wet buck in the tub. The little pony in me was screaming.

That other part of me, that stupid one, decided it be best to wave a hoof in front of the zombie's face. No reaction. Okay, time to get moving while the goings good I suppose. I slid to the other side of the basin and tried to crawl out.

The zombie followed this motion unfortunately. Slowly it turned and positioned itself smack dab back in front of me. Oh goody, it likes what it sees. Again sliding, it followed. This actually was sort of fun, if not for the whole terrible death looming overhead. Like playing peekaboo with a little foal.

This back and forth could have gone on forever if not for the sound of something breaking in the other room. It caught the zombie's attention long enough for me to sneak pass. In the main living area I found another one of the undead crunching a vase underhoof. Like it's friend it had no interest in eating me. Instead it faced my direction with those same dull eyes. It looked more or less like it's buddy, except with large splinters of wood like porcupine quills up and down it's body.

At least the door was open now. Which was not as much as a comfort as one would think. Eyeing "Woody", I felt a lump in my throat as I realized how strong a pony would have to be to shatter the hinges off a magically locked door.

A cold nose against my backside caught me by surprise. "HSHH!" I screamed, twisting a hoof around into it's fa- My voice....why was my voice like that. Why did I make that sound.

My hoof redirected to my throat. It..It was fine. Nothing wrong here. I was okay.

But now those things were staring at me, closer then before; eyes focused in on the lone living target. Oh buck me -

Nothing happened. Not a hair was moved. So they weren't going to devour me? That should of felt like a good thing, but my heart dropped into my stomach instead. It was time for me to make my exit.

Or it would of been if not for the figure blocking the way out. His hat dipped down over his face, but the glimmering under his torn and bloodied duster was hard to miss. He looked fresh out of the war. "So I missed a few of you bastards." That almost sounded like a laugh. "That just won't do." Yeah, he was laughing. " I won't get dinner till I'm all done." Taking a firm wide stance, both guns exploded with power from the shadows of his coat.

Hiss went down first, split between the eyes with a dozen shots. Woody luckily was so big he took the next dozen meant for me as I dove into the bedroom. My dive knocked over the bookcase, turning it into a lucky blockade. However, it made for a terrible barrier as bullets turned it into sawdust. Fresh confetti peppered the air as I fished helplessly for my next saving grace.

The sound of reloading guns kicked me into action. Upending the broken bed frame I shoved it into the pile of wood scraps, tossing the mattress over as well. The next barrage of bullets came raining down much faster then I could retreat, clipping the tips of my ears. Covering my head, I waited in the far corner until he had to reload again. At the clicking of new shells I groped for any possible weapon.

I managed just in time to find something threat worthy as silver magic gripped the bed, slamming it into the opposite wall and sandwiching the disfigured head in between like a rotten tomato.

Oh shit.

He charged in with barrels ready to roar as I attempted my only salvation.

The whisky bottle knocked his hat off.

With a choking laugh he looked down at me all too ready to stomp out another insect. Both guns glided across my face. "Smart one, eh? Wonder how much of you is still in there?" He tapped a barrel against my cheek. "Can ya still talk glowy? C'mon, let's have a little chat."

I couldn't, not with those weapons pointed my way.

His grin turned lopsided, the guns shaking in his grasp. "Ya know, I wish ya could answer me. But you're all the same in the end. Over and over, just the same. Nothing will ever change will it?"

Confused and trembling, I wanted to go home.

"Hey, don't go pissing yourself. The mess in here is already too much!" The revolver pushed into my forehead. "Can ya clean in up! CAN YA!"

Fuck, I was crying - I was crying and he was just smiling. This wasn't some nightmare. You wake from nightmares, you escape from them. But I could feel the cold steel against my flesh, smell the sulfur that was gunfire. My ears stung from the fresh cuts. This was hell.

"HAVING FUN YET!" He howled, pistol whipping my jaw. "DAMN THE RADS, TIME TO PLAY!"

Goddesses, what had I done to deserve this.

He bound my hooves in bard wire and with his magic strangling my neck dragged me over the barricade, pass the lifeless zombies, and through the open door.

Treating me as nothing more than an expendable ragdoll, he plowed my lower jaw into the cracked pavement of a road. He rested a hoof upon the back of my head. "I'm death now bitch." his voice eerily calm. Chills raced across my spine, the dread in my stomach growing tenfold.

He was going to kill me.

It was a done deal.

Flipping me over, he reached into his duster and pulled out a knife. It was jagged and deeply stained from years of use. "Hoo hoo, this is going to be a party alright! First things first, we have to cut the cake!"

Please. Anypony. Anything! Not like this. Goddesses, I need you!

But no one answered me.

The knife blade was still sharp despite it's age. Well taken care of, it would slice my flesh like butter. It was begging to do so. This wasn't the way I wanted to die. No creature in the world wanted to go out like this, quartered and divided slowly, the pain drawn out till my last breath. His eyes told me everything he would do to me, as a mind as sick as his was hard to hide.

This monster of a pony was biting at the bit to get started.

"Hope you like slow dances." Smiling, he placed the knife between his teeth. He wanted to be up close and personal as he sliced thin slice after thin slice.

Closing my eyes, I didn't have the courage to even steel myself against this horror. I could only pray for it to be over soon, a lie I had to tell myself - one I could never believe.

Behind the darkness I begged "I'll do anything"

Anything?

I screamed.
I was screaming.
I couldn't stop screaming.

Yet as I screamed something joined with the piercing note. Another voice so full of anguish and torment that it was hard to imagine it was even possible. My right eye burst with pain so fierce and hot that I lost touch with every other sense. Straining against my bindings, even the pain of metal thorns being embedded into my skin palled in comparison to the blaze inside my head.

Then the other note died away as something heavy fell atop me. My ties snapped, a small miracle, as I pushed the weight off. With nothing but pure adrenaline guiding me, I rolled over finding my footing. The inferno blossomed anew as I pulled the knife out of my eye socket.

Then I began to run.
And kept running

I would run until the fire died.

> // Level One Complete
> // Level Up!
> // Loading New Perk
> // New Perk - An Eye For Detail - You find yourself having an easier time studying your surrounding, noticing things that would slip another ponies gaze.