Chapter 2: The Last Thing You Never See
Chapter 2: The Last Thing You Never See
"You take out a debt; it's only a matter of time before someone comes collecting."
My cell leaked. A. Lot. I managed to keep my leg dry by curling up in a corner. It was uncomfortable, but then again, it was a cell. Expecting anything else was just asking for trouble. To be quite frank, I could have escaped. The cell was little more than a huge iron cage shoved in the corner of the room, and I was strong. very strong. If I had been pressed, I could easily have bent the bars and escaped. Into a raider base without a gun. My strength was good, true enough, but not near enough to take a raider base by myself.
Actually, my wounds stung so badly I wasn't sure I could even bend the bars. In the final melee that ended with my surrender, I had managed to take no less than five bullets. Though three just grazed me, stinging only a little, and one had bounced off my leg, the other was buried deep in my flank. The Raider 'doctor' removed it and gave me a healing potion. Given the taste, I suspected he’d pissed in it. Unsurprisingly, I was not a very popular pony. Maybe if I wore blood-soaked rags with spikes sticking out, these folks would like me better.
Just outside my bars ponies were laughing and gambling. Poker, it looked like. Leaning in a bit, I ignored the water that dripped on my head and wet my mane. Four raiders were sitting on their haunches around a table. Unicorns, the lot of them. Holding up cards magically so as to make my joint burn. Sure, I wasn't perceptive, but I wasn't foalish enough not to notice fact that the joint between my fake leg and shoulder burning every time a unicorn used magic. Starmetal poisoning, I guessed.
The mare with the bloody dagger cutie-mark put two cards down, and the old green stallion gave her two more. Bets were placed, and two of them folded outright. When the cards fell, it was the quiet filly (without a cutie mark!) who won the round with a three of a kind, netting her a whole pile of caps. The next few rounds she dropped out, sipping on whiskey (who gives whiskey to a filly?), but the round after she managed to get another pile by making everypony else drop out. Bluffing. Pearly told me what it was, but I hadn’t understood till I saw it. Don't show your cards, and always pretend they were good, but not unbeatable.
Or something.
“Whiskey,” I suggested when the bloody dagger mare looked at me. Instead, she magically chucked an empty bottle which shattered and blanketed my cell with glass. Great. “No, then.” Sighing, I rolled back into my corner as thunder roared outside. My flank pounded as the flesh knitted itself back together, and my joint burned from the magic. Most of all, my head throbbed, and guilt wrenched my gut. I had managed to negotiate my freedom, but at what cost? Survival. My head roared like the thunder outside.
They had killed the doctor who had saved my life. They had killed an innocent child, left his body torn and his... no, I couldn't think of that. Even still. I had gained my life by offering to work for them. The brown stallion with the chain for a cutie mark called himself “Silver Bullet.” I told him the name was fake. He told me mine was. Yet, he brought me along as captive to his little raider den anyway. He was going to request of me a job, and with it, I'd truly see if my will to survive overruled the stupid morality that nagged at me.
“You.” The filly who had been winning at cards was standing outside my cage, looking down to where I lay. I guess the game was over, and judging by the way the bags on her back swelled with caps, I figured she’d won. “What's your name?”
“Hired Gun.”
“Whats your real name?” Silver Storm... The filly's voice was sweet... but living with a raider company, I guessed she wasn't. Filly or no, I could trust her none at all.
“Hired Gun.”
She giggled and trotted in a circle, “I'm Spitshine,” she announced proudly, “an’ you're my prisoner.” It sure looked that way. “Youse gotta tell the truth, or I'll kill ya.”
“No.”
That only made her giggle more. “I'm going to be big and strong one day, so you better do what I say. And smart. All the ponies say I'm smart. Are you smart? ’Course not, because you are trapped. Smart ponies don't get trapped; they're the trappers.” Lightning flashed through a window and thunder boomed.
Spitshine jumped and squealed.
How could I not chuckle at that? “S-shuddup. That was a trick! I'm not really scared! I-” Thunder boomed again and she vanished, running to hide behind 'bloody dagger' mare. Chuckling, I gave 'bloody dagger' my very best grin.
Her face darkened. “Scare Spitshine again, and I'll bugger you with my knife.” She looked deadly serious
Okay, no talking it was then.
The rest of that night was spent counting my sins as I watched ‘bloody dagger’ sharpen her knife. At least the Cutie-mark she had was well-earned. From the look of her knife, it had seen use many, many times. In case we ever fought, I mentally noted to stay as far away as possible and pump her full of lead before she got close. Hopefully, it'd never come to that. That little filly Spitshine seemed to take to 'bloody dagger', and even if she was a raider in training, taking a filly away from her friend was harsh. If I had to, I would, but I'd take no pleasure in it.
Maybe that was the point, I thought resting my head on the iron bars. The wasteland bid you do what you gotta in order to survive, but... but if you started taking pleasure in the dirty business, the wasteland won. Even if you had to resort to dirty work, you could never let yourself enjoy it. Somehow, I knew this epiphany was going to come in handy sooner rather than later. When I was blindfolded and marched to their little hideout, I promised to do whatever job he needed. I was just a gun for hire after all. Eventually, he was going to cash in on that, and I wasn't going to like it.
My stomach twisted in a knot.
When morning came, the rain still pounded on the windows, and there was a good-sized pool in my cell. Getting to my feet, I stretched out as much as I could, my metal shoulder aching a bit. It had been since the rain started, but sleeping made it worse. “Water.” Bloody dagger was staring through the bars at me. Sneaky bitch. Oh, but she was giving me water, how nice. As I drank from the bottle, my pipbuck went clicky-clack.
Wait, what?
Leaning down, I poked it with my nose. Still clicking. That was annoying. What the hell happened to it? All I wanted was my radio back. Still clicking. By Celestia's beard! Stop clicking!
Okay, Silver Storm may have taken over my because I smashed the stupid thing against the steel bars. “Ain’t that a kick in the head~”
It worked though. Except, I had never heard that song before, and DJ PON-3 only had like ten songs. Then, as if to taunt me the song stopped and a DJ spoke. ’Cept it wasn't DJ PON-3. It was some older stallion with a voice like honey poured over thunder. “Sometimes the only thing you can do after a kick to the head is get back up. How are we doing today, Dise? Because it's time for the news,” Instead of excitement bordering on dash-addiction, this pony was smooth, suave, and...damn that voice. He could talk to me all day long.
“After a failed raid of the Megaspell power station, the Mustangs are denying all responsibility. Their leader Roy had this to say, 'Listen folks; I tells ya it weren’t us, no way no how. Celestia above knows me and The House have always been friends, and I ain’t never betray that trust.'” Wow. I had heard a lot of untrustworthy ponies in my time, but that? Yeah, so I knew one thing for sure: the Mustangs attacked a power station. “When asked about the noticeable downsize in Mustang forces on the streets Roy declined to comment. One more piece of news for you. A Traveller from the north was found near the town of Bridle Hope in critical condition. After emergency surgery by a Watcher Disciple, she reportedly made a full recovery. It just goes to show that there is goodness in everypony, if you know where to look.” After a short segue music resumed leaving me dumbfounded.
I was on the radio. Oh joy. Dr Morowynd was too. And now he was dead. Maybe that was the wastelands way of punishing him for taking back a life it had so dutifully claimed. Well, that ruined my euphoria. Slinking back to my almost dry corner I sighed, my chest heaving involuntarily. How come everypony I liked died? Except for Pearly, but hell, there was still time yet.
“Whiskey?” I asked ‘bloody dagger’, prompting her to glare... uh... daggers at me. Water was good and all, but whiskey was best.
“Just drink. Bullet wants to see you.”
So I drank. My pipbuck still made that clicking sound, but it was drowned out by music. Were they going to escort me to Bullet's chambers? Were they aware the last raider I parlayed with got a kick out a window? Of course, that was Silver Storm not me. Me? I was going to actually listen to what this bastard had to say. Also, I would refrain from calling him a bastard to his face.
They unlocked my cage, but not before having four more guards (and Spitshine) flanked me. At least two had their weapons trained on me at all times. If I hadn’t known better, I'd’a thought I was dangerous.
The little tour of their base took me through darkened rooms of horrid smells. At one point, an errant lightning bolt lit one of the rooms up fully. Only for a second...I was glad for that, any longer and I would have retched. Ponies should not be inside out. Maybe they were actually taking me out back to shoot me. That'd be nice. Better than actually working for these monsters at least.
They finally led me to a clean room. Sitting behind a desk, writing something with the pen in his mouth, was Silver Bullet. “Leave us.” Good idea. I sat on my haunches facing him as the guards filed out. “Don't try anything stupid.” he said when the door slammed shut behind me.
“'Kay.”
“Were you serious?” he asked, leaning his head forward, “You would really work for me?”
“Yes.” I said as quick as I could, adding, “But I don't mutilate ponies.”
He chuckled a bit getting to his feet. “Good. I took over this… 'operation' two months ago. It went rogue and turned raider when nopony was looking. Soon, there will be no more mutilation, but my... urgh... herd don't understand just yet. In time though.”
“Good.”
“I never said we were doing 'good'. Just... less gruesome work.” He sighed walking closer to me but keeping a good ten-foot distance. “I have a job for you. Somepony in Bridle Hope has... stolen something that belongs to me.” He turned and paced dramatically showing off his grey-chain cutie mark.
“You need it back.” Of course. Theft for a gang of raiders. Seems like fun. I’d preformed guard duty for raiders for years and that never bothered me. The Silver Storm in me demanded justice for the doctor. But the doctor was dead, and joining him in the grave did nothing for nopony.
“I need her fucking dead.”
“Why me?” I could kill her. My stomach heaved at the thought of being this bastard’s bloody executioner, but it was that or death, and by the sounds of it this mare had asked for it. What if he wants you to kill Pearly? my conscience asked. I ignored it. It wouldn't be. Kill some bitch... still. Argh, fuck the wasteland. Kill or die. What a choice.
“My bucks would make a fucking botch of it. Would kill half the damn village or set it on fire. Without Bridle Hope, trade would be fucked up from here to Wendin, and that’s bad for everypony. It's the centre between north and south and east and west. If the villagers left, or if, goddess forbid, the NCA or Steel Ranger took the opportunity to procure the town... no. She needs to die and JUST her.”
“Didn't answer my question.”
“Because you're available? Because you're a good shot? Because your life is already indebted to me? Because finding another would take too long? Take your pick. If I had my way, I'd have you killed... but only an idiot lets tools go to waste.” A tool. That's all I was. A tool for some raider to use and throw away.
Buck, was I a tool.
“And the reward?”
“Freedom, if you want it. A full-time job if you like the work.”
“I'll need caps.” If I was going to... actually do this, I may as well make it worth my while. “And a gun. For shooting.” He grinned.
The next hour or so was hammering out a deal. He did most of the talking, but I said a lot more. Eventually, I managed to get a deal for a new gun, armoured barding, and 800 caps. Half now, half on completion. All that in addition to my freedom, which I figured was priceless. Back in Marefort, Wildfire often handled the bartering, and more than once she demanded I come with her, so I guess I must have picked up a trick or two.
Of course... all this was for killing another pony. I had killed ponies before, sure, but this was different...those ponies were raiders and my target was just...
Don't think about it. Do it. Kill or die. Survive.
---
When I was a little filly, I’d hated the rain. I liked to run and play outside, but when the rain came, I was cooped inside Marefort like a bird in a cage. Then my mother had told me that the rain was actually Celestia's tears. That the Goddess wept for her forlorn children and wept for what had brought them to such a place. I didn’t like the rain any more after that, but I felt like I understood it.
Celestia's tears poured from the heavens. I could barely see three feet in front of me, and the strands of my white-and-pink-stripped mane falling in my face did not help. Though it did remind me I needed a manecut. Sighing, I stopped, my hooves sinking deeper into the mud. Lifting my right leg up, I poked my pipbuck with my nose.
Silver Bullet had come from a stable, he said, and knew how to work the thing. Somepony, the Doctor maybe, must have fixed the thing when I was dead. It had a thousand and one uses, Bullet had told me. Maps, inventory management, radio, something called SATS, and a Geiger counter, among other functions. I didn't know what half that shit was, but the map and radio were useful.
It had been a long haul from Raider Base Camp back to Bridle Springs, but not as slow as it had been leaving. On my own, I could traverse ground much more quickly, mostly because I could climb steep hills and other stuff carts couldn’t. Still, with my mind bearing down on me with all the weight of a Bighorner, it felt like it took twice the time it did. I was so lost in my mind that I didn't see the building until I ran head-first into it.
Choking down curses, I searched through the grey rainy haze to get my bearings. According to my pipbuck map I was at the Casino. Good. From here I could--
“No, Not a word,” Shit! Voice closing in. My heart leaped into my throat. Catching the sight of a large crate against the wall, I quickly dove behind it praying to Luna that whoever was coming by wasn't observant enough to see me. “I know, I know. I just worry, so don't give me that.”
“Daisy, calm down. I'm sure they're fine,” a stallion said.
“Fine!?” her voice turned shrill as the hoof-steps closed in. “We lost two caravans last week! Raiders, slavers... and worse live in those hills. Being a Watcher caravan don't mean two shits that far away from Dise.”
“Yeah, yeah. And the Mayor sent word to the NCA, and you know how they are. Desperate to 'improve relations' so they set up a camp.”
“I know... still... I wish they'd write. Or get that Pegasus to write a letter or... something.” She sighed heavily, her voice disturbingly close. “So this is it?”
“Yup, just came yesterday. Pearly said'a stash it back here till she can round some folks up to put it together.”
“Think it'll actually work?”
“Galician approved, they use the same model.” The mare chuckled. Somepony knocked on the opposite side of the crate. Holding my breath, I refused to move. Luckily, due to the rain, they didn't linger that long, eventually filling away the way they came. Taking a deep sigh of relief, I peeked out behind my cover. Nothing but raindrops and dirt.
Creeping out, I walked down the hill where I came, and travelled in a wide circle before I hit the lower town. Given the rain and the fact the casino was most likely the only building that didn't leak, I assumed most, if not all, of the town ponies would be there. I eventually found myself pressed against a broken-down building.
No noise. I quickly pushed open the back door of the house, my eyes scanning for signs of life. I was almost positive the house was uninhabited, but I had to be sure. I was almost mostly correct, as it was inhabited but by giant crickets. Giant, of course, compared to regular crickets. After squashing them, I climbed the crumbling staircase to find most of the top floor open to the elements as a good portion of the roof has been torn off. Trotting quickly under the section of the roof that managed to stay up I leaned against a wall. I was safe from the rain here, time to think.
First things first, though. Using my teeth, I managed to unzip my metal leg’s protective covering. It was little more than a plastic bag designed to keep the prosthetic dry, and it looked even uglier than the skeletal leg underneath. Lifting the leg up to eye level, I could hear the whirling and ticking of it's internal components. I laid down on the floor so as I could use the light of my pip-buck to get a better look without, you know, falling over.
It really was an impressive bit of technology. Sure, from a distance it looked like somepony had dipped my skeleton in adamantium and let me walk around on it, but up close it's true genius shown through. The were wires so thin you could barely see them as they traced up and down the leg, and at the joints, if you squinted, you could see the gears and springs that kept the leg moving and natural looking. The doctor told me they’d used magic to actually attach it to my nervous system so I could control the whole thing mentally. Stretching it out, I marvelled at the ease of movement, wondering how I never noticed how amazing it was before. Oh yeah, I hated it because I lost my real fucking leg.
Sighing, I pulled the covering back on and fastened it. It made me wonder why they didn't just build water proof legs. I turned the radio on but kept it low as the rain started to lighten up outside my little enclave. From my vantage I couldn't really see much of the town. The Casino and Clinic on its’ hill were clear of course, and from the light coming out of it, it looked bursting with life. Good, the fewer the better.
“... Fires continue to rage. Meanwhile in the Dise wasteland, I have been getting reports that a slaver company has taken to attacking trading caravans in the east in brazen daylight raids. NCA officials, who have pledged to solve the Slaver problem, had this to say. 'It seems to me the Slavers have responded to the NCA crack-down by ramping up their vileness. We'll flush them out of their caves soon enough and bring enlightenment to the Dise Wasteland. You can bet on it.'” The radio whispered to me as I thought.
I was almost positive my target would be at their house, and not out at the casino. A stroke of good fortune if you asked me. Even still I couldn't barge in, take the shot, grab the loot and leave. She'd scream, and people would come running, I needed to hit her from a distance. Chewing on my lip I juggled ideas on how, where and when in my head. It was easier than thinking.
“In other news, riots have broken out when Ponitrons showed up to quell a protest in front of the Black Salamander Casino and Research Center. So far there thirteen protesters have been injured, three killed, and another five missing along with at least a dozen Ponitrons in need of repair. Both the Hizais and Galicians have yet to comment on this recent incident. Well, I... ” I turned the volume down so much it was nothing but a faint murmur to my ear. I couldn't risk being heard.
Lightning flashed across the sky, and two seconds later a boom shook the house so much I thought it was going to cave in around me. Time to act. Crawling back down the slippery steps, I walked out into the town, keeping myself wary. Even though the town felt abandoned, I snuck my way around. If even a single person saw me, they might recognize me, and then I was dead.
The rain had become so light I couldn't tell if it was rain, or simply a thick mist. Whatever the case, it didn't help my mane get any dryer and made my tail stick to my flank in a most uncomfortable fashion. Ignoring it, I finally made my way to my destination: the abandoned school house.
I pushed down on the handle. Locked. As thunder boomed above, I kicked the door open. Walking in, I quickly stomped two more giant bugs to death before searching for the stairs leading to the bell-tower. I didn't even hear her walk in behind me.
“Hired Gun... ” Her voice was strangely soft as she stood there. Lightning flashed behind her illuminating her white coat making it look beautiful and drenched.
“Pearly... ” I responded dimly aware of the new gun pressing into my side. Backing up I never took my gaze away from her. My stomach twisted itself into knots yet again. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make any other words form on my lips. “Pearly.” I repeated.
“What the hell is going on here? Where’s everypony else? An' what’s with that gun? Ain’t one of the two you brought with you.” She just had to go and point everything wrong with what was going on, didn't she? Was my head supposed to hurt so much?
“Don't ask. Leave.” I said, the wavering in my voice betraying my attempt at confidence.
“Why? Hon, I-” She walked towards me.
“You shouldn't be here.” I insisted, backing up and knocking desks over behind me.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“I'm not a good pony.” I tried to explain as truthfully as I could. “But you knew that.”
“So what? What the hell happened. Why are you here? Where is everypony? What the fuck do you think you're doin' sneaking around?”
“I... ” Stopped. There was no point lying, she'd find out soon enough. “Dead.” She stepped back, shock clear on her face. “Raiders came. We fought. Then died. I'm sorry.”
“You... why're you still alive? Did'ja escape or.. .” Or was I working for them? She didn't need to finish the question for me to understand, and I didn't need to reply for her to. She already knew the answer I was sure. Why did she torture herself like this? I didn't want her to know. She... I had hoped never to see her again. She was such a good pony, and I wasn't. “Why... they killed them all, and now you're working for them?”
“Needed caps.”
“So that is it?” Goddess, she looked like she was about to cry. “You'd work for murders if you got caps? I thought you were... ”
“Hired Gun.” She stopped, and glared at me. My heart may have broken then. “My name. It's who I am.”
“You're a monster.” Maybe. But on a scale from one to abomination, I was near the bottom. “So you're here as an assassin? IS that it?! Going to kill some fucking pony?! Some innocent-”
“Innocent?” I smiled sadly at her. Goddess, she was beautiful, and a lot smarter than me, but if she truly believed anypony was innocent in the wasteland, she was the biggest foal I had ever met.
“Oh, you're a judge now? An executioner too to carry out the sentence? Is that it?”
“If that's what it takes.”
“When did you get so cold?” I shivered. When did this room get so cold was a better question. Damn. This was going badly.
“Survival. The world sucks. Good ponies die. Bad ponies piss on the graves of heroes. Only thing I can do is survive.” That may have been the longest string of words I had used since before I left Marefort the first time, and by far the most meaningful. It was necessary though. She had to understand.
“You... ” She choked up. “Shoulda figured. No pony with hope left would change their name like yours... so what happened to you? Doc said you were beat up bad when he found you. Rival gang get you? Mark gone wrong? Drug dealers? What?”
“My brother shot me.” Maybe if I told her the truth. Then she would get it. It was stupid. I could have lied, pacified her until I could complete the job. But I never lied to another pony.
“Your brother.” Her voice was somewhere in between disbelief and sadness.
“Yes.” The whole room brightened as lightning flashed.
“Why?”
“I tried to rescue him.” Now she was laughing at me. Or crying. Tears were streaming down her face. But she was laughing, though I could barely hear her over the sound of rolling thunder.
“Ya expect me ta believe your brother shot ya. After tryin' ta save him?” Was it really that ridiculous? “You're a fuckin' liar. So why are you really here? ‘Cause that raider bullshit ain’t foolin' me.”
“It's true.”
“Then... ” She wiped her tears away with her hoof. “I'll just have to stop you, 'fore you kill some pony.” Sighing, I shook my head. Suddenly, 800 caps didn't seem like a deal anymore. No amount of caps could would be enough if I had to fight Pearly. My shoulder burned more painfully than it ever had before, when she lifted her shotgun off her back and pointed it at me.
“You can't,” She started opening her mouth but I cut her off. “I mean physically. I'm bigger. Stronger. And a faster shot. You'll die.”
“To save somepony. Worth a shot.”
“You don’t even know who I’m killing... ”
---
The rain had all but stopped, leaving only the thinnest hint pouring down on me. Looking through the scope of my newly obtained bolt-action sniper rifle, I could see the silhouette of my target on their window. Just a candlelight shadow though, I couldn't take the shot, not yet. I moved the rifle, looking at Pearly as she finally made it back to her farm. It had been surprisingly easy to convince her to leave once I told her who I was killing. Feuds were not my forte, but this one clearly ran deep.
Sighing, I turned back to my mark. From my vantage point on the school bell-tower (notably lacking a bell), I had full line of sight over the whole town. Like I had suspected, only two ponies were in the town, the rest were in the Casino gambling away what few caps they had. If I could be anywhere right now, it'd be there, or in Pearly's shack, or beside Wildfire...
I shook the thought out of my head.
No thinking.
A yellow streak tore across the sky. Counting under my breath, I looked through the scope. “Three... two... one” thunder boomed. My mark's window blew open suddenly so loud I thought I heard the clattering. Lightning broke the sky again, like clockwork. “Three... two... ” Her head appeared in the window, trying desperately to close the window. “One.” Thunder boomed in my ears. I didn't bite down, I didn't shoot.
Shoot! My mind cried out at me, Shoot. Kill!
I tried. With all my heart I did. But... dammit. I couldn't see my mark, all I could see is Wildfire her face a bloody ruin as she died. My stomach heaved. Retching, I cursed myself. I had to do this. I knew. But...
Lightning flashed.
I peered through my scope. She got the window. She was closing it. All I had to do was take the shot. “Three.” I'd never have an easier shot. She was right there. A single bullet and it would be done. The wasteland would have another body and I, my freedom. “Two” DO it! Shoot. How hard could it be. I'm not a raider; raiders did this shit for fun. I took no pleasure in it. It's different. But I...
Survive, A voice inside me whispered.
“One.” The thunder masked my bullet.
Thus ended the life of Nanny Jane.
---
I didn't move for a long time. I just stood there, staring through the scope of my rifle. Her head had snapped back when the bullet hit, and blood sprayed out behind her. I couldn't see her now though. Her corpse had fallen, hidden. In my mind she was there though; lying in a pool of blood with half her face torn off. Telling me she was sorry-
Maybe death would have been better. Was this really the only two choices the Wasteland had? Die a hero, or live a villain. Maybe that's why there were so few good ponies left, all of them had died out or had the goodness beaten out. I tried to be a good pony once. For that I lost my L... I lost my Wildfire. My leg. My family. My home. So now I'm a bad pony. An assassin. It made me lose something else. My heart felt cold, like it was missing something. Something important. No matter what you did you lost. Fuck the wasteland. Fuck the zebras and ponies what made it, too. Maybe one day I'd learn the name of them what caused the apocalypse so I could damn them each to hell personally.
Then after I died I'd meet them there.
I took my time going down the winding steps of the bell-tower. I toyed briefly with the idea of falling down the stairs to my death. No less than I deserved. Still I kept walking down the slicks steps and never tripped. Did my gun always feel this heavy, burrowing into my side? I couldn't be sure. I choked back emotion. I just had to walk. Don't think, move.
I made it to the school room where me and Pearly had our little, 'showdown'. She was right of course. Killing Nanny Jane was a mistake. Dying would have been better. Beat the wasteland; don't let it beat you. Die on your own terms; not live in its. After taking so much from me, did it really manage to take more?
Did the wasteland take my soul?
Celestia's tears fell with renewed vigour soaking me to the bone. Only my metal leg stayed dry, and I couldn't even feel it. Moping about the rain? Yeah, I was a bit depressed. Slogging through mud, rain and everything else I finally made it to the Bridle Hope General Store. For a second, I nearly knocked, until I remembered what was on the other side.
So I kicked open the door. Maybe somepony heard, but I really did not care. On the other side, I saw her.
The wounds were so similar I was sure it was the wasteland mocking me. The way her head was torn, the blood. Tears blurred my vision but that only made them look even more alike. I kept looking though. Forcing myself to. I watched as the blood dripped from her corpse into the pool. I saw the ripples the blood made like rain falling on a lake. The way one eyes rolled back, and the other was dangling off the side of her head, yes I saw that too. This. I caused this. Maybe I was a bad pony. Maybe I was a killer, assassin, or whatever. But I was not a raider. A raider watching this would laugh, where as I could only cry. They'd revel in it, whereas I could only retch again.
I was sick. I was horrible. Evil, vile and a thousand other things, but at least I could have been worse. I had to keep reminding myself. My shoulder burned, mocking what I’d done. Still, I looked. I didn't stop looking until I felt the rising urge to retch again. The food the raiders served me before I left was gross enough going in, coming out it was twice as bad.
Tearing my eyes away I breathed deeply.
“Right... package.” I flicked the radio of my pip-buck back on and got to searching. Silver Bullet told me I would know what I was looking for when I saw it, but he was kind of an ass. Having no idea what this package was I searched aimlessly, and when I found something good (including a healing potion and three grenades) I threw it in my saddle bags. No sense letting it go to waste. I had just killed a mare, okay? Don't think too bad of me for something as minor as theft. Or grave robbing, whatever.
Still nothing. Until I saw the door to the back. Of course! Nanny Jane told me not to look in there before. It'd only make sense that whatever she stole to send a raider assassin on her tail would have to be locked away. More proof of my idiotic-ness if doing a job for an obviously-evil raider band wasn't proof enough.
That door was locked too. Sure, I could have found the key on Nanny Jane but... I couldn't bring myself to look again. So instead I kicked the door down. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I heard something squeak when it crashed open.
The stairs twisted deep underground. Dark, dirty and dusty. Turning I grabbed the candle holder from a nearby desk with my mouth and made my descent. As I walked, the candle light made my shadow danced along the walls. For a second, my shadow looked small and afraid, and then huge with sharp teeth. Never for long though, as the candle flickered wildly.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the candle fell from my mouth.
The package, I realized instantly. Such a light pink it could almost be mistaken for white had the light not illuminated further. It was chained to wall. She was a filly.
The package Nanny Jane stole was a little filly.
---
Footnote: Level Up!
Skill Notes: Guns 50
(A/N: Thank you first and foremost to Kkat without whom this story would never exist. A very special thanks to theBSDude for his effort in making this shit readable. ~No One~)
Stats
Page generated in 0.027 seconds
Total duration
1,044 users online
453 hits today, 2,280,440 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Wow, ending changed my feelings. If somepony 'steal' fillies and chain them... Well, you didn't feel half as bad when you need to kill them)
Neato. Great chapter.
I am going to start responding to every comment personally, because I like to talk.
8933 True enough, but I think that only counts of you knew she did it BEFORE you kill her. Finding out after can't justify it because you never knew. IMO anyway.
8967 Thanks! :D
Also I noticed a few people voted 3 stars recently. I was just curious if said people could possible PM me as to why so I can continue to improve the story. Thanks.
~No One~
9176
True, but it helps deal with past feelings. You can stop blame yourself when you know that kill was justified.
and sorry for not commenting before: i like what i read, the reactions of your protagonist to her misadventures are really well thought, keep up the good work ^_^
9176
sorry for the double post, just say a word and i'll delete it and compile in single one; about the low rating, here are my two cents: i think the story is worth far higher than a 3, are you sure that you haven't simply ratebombed by some troll?
9608 Now I suppose thats true, and it certainly has an effect on the events that happen in the future.
10658 Thank you very much my good sir.
10824 Might be thats the case but it might just be I'm not up to someponies standards and inwhich case I owe it to them to keep it there as a reminder to do better.
Also, you can delete star ratings? Thats news to me!
~No One~
The Mustangs with their leader Roy. I'm surprised no one commented about the obvious Fullmetal Alchemist reference.
15816 never was able to sit down and watch a full episode without being distracted. Great chapter btw
9608 case in poin, in fo3 I felt bad for killing a guy cause i wasted his guy, turned out he was a canible. So I no longer felt any remorse for killing him and later the whole town. And in fnv same foes for killing that girl that ran the hotel near the dinasor, cause she killed Boone's wife.
*wanted his gun
15816 I was going to because that is one of my fave anime right now.
great story so far, another fine edition to the 2.2 million words of FO:E I've read so far
Silver rush is a very interesting character though, definitely not a good hero, but still hero material
for an earth pony witha perception of 3 or 4 Silver is remarkably accurate over range with that rifle and for that matter is pretty good at target aquisition! I like the story and I like the way it is written but the small guns skill is governed by perception, so being a crack shot with lower than average perception just doesn't make that much sense to me. Also she starts off kind of OP for a first or second-level character. If she is so new to doing this kind of thing, how come she never misses the shot? why is she an expert at so many things? Perhaps it might have been better if she started out average and got better over time as she learns from her mistakes.
0
Y'know, Silver looks a lot like Fleur de Verre. This is I'm sure completely irrelevant to everything ever.
I hope that Silver can find the light soon. Out here, it's so very faint, but so very essential. Surviving is no good if you forget to live.
*me. Or you accidentally a word.
You just heard someone stash something possibly valuable right in the crate you're hiding behind ... and you don't even look to see what it is? What kind of Wastelander are you?
*slick
That's something I really don't get in FO2 and FO:NV. Why the heck would you bury someone with caps, stimpacks, or ammo?
I did. I killed the fucker (what) killed her, and then his blood soaked me too.
That is post to be that
The wasteland sure has a sick sense o humor.
I hope this filly will help Silver/Hired Gun see that heros aren't gone and she can be just that.
They can be big damn heroes
So Silver found the filly, and now she has to take her back. When do the clickers show up?
Why did she do the job? She could have easily just run away never looking back. That does not make sense to me.
No... my heart, my poor heart that takes a lot for me to get sad, fuck you Heroes, you made me sad... Ah well, excellent writing on your part No-One.
10677844 She needed caps, and it would be suspicious when she got back, because they wouldn't know if she was working for the raiders or not. Her fake name is a curse. They could have also seen through the lie, but it's more about her character arc, so far it's going down...