When the Tourist's day doesn't go quite as planned he wakes up in a new land where the same viral outbreak has occurred.
The Tourist's day doesn't go the way he planned. After tracking down a small Tower outpost, he plans to take it down and steal it's loot.
But when a stray grenade causes the building to collapse, the Tourist wakes up in a new world where the same viral outbreak has occurred. A new world where the dead also walks, or in this case trots.
This story is a crossover with "The Walking Dead: Saints and Sinners" games. This will take place after the events of the second game.
Since this is a Walking Dead story, there will be death, violence and gore. You have been warned.
The sound of a revolver clicked and the weapon was pointed at the Tourist. He immediately put his hands in to a defensive position.
"Give me all your fucking meds and bandages!" The stranger yelled. The Tourist hated these types of people, the ones who point guns and demand to be given items.
"Ok, just calm down and I wi-" The Tourist said before being cut off.
"Don't fucking talk, just give me what I want! I saw you spare some food for that girl, so I know you have meds and bandages!" The stranger yelled again. It was true the Tourist did have what the stranger was looking for and he did spare some food for a young girl. She had given him a small box filled with workable metal, bolts, screws and gun powder in return. The Tourist was not a good man, but rather a bad man trying to do right. He had killed so many people and this didn't include the dead that roamed the world now.
The Tourist pulled his backpack of his back and opened it, searching for what this stranger wanted. The strangers gun was still pointed at the Tourists head, impatiently waiting for the Tourist to pull out the bandages and medicine.
"And give me good sterile bandages, not those shitty dirty ones." The stranger ordered. The Tourist didn't respond but simply nodded his head.
The Tourist looked up at the stranger for a moment before looking back through his bag. He took note of what the stranger was wearing. A blue jacket and a bullet proof vest with the signature logo of the Tower painted on it. This most likely meant he was part of the Tower, despite the Tourist storming it with the outcasts. This was good news for the Tourist, because he had been given information about a nearby Tower camp that was loaded with supplies. He had been trying to find it for some time but with little luck. He looked up at the stranger again, but something behind him caught the Tourists eye. One Walker coming towards them. This was the perfect distraction, the tourist finally grabbed the medicine and bandages from his bag before he stood back up.
"Took you long enough, I thought I would have to splatter your brains across the ground." The stranger said. he turned around and immediately saw the Walker coming towards them. "Ah, fucking hate these things."
The stranger raised his revolver and fired one shot at the undead man, the bullet struck the Walker in the head and it immediately went down. The Tourist quickly grabbed a small shiv from his bag and rammed it in to the strangers leg from the side. Getting it under his kneecap before twisting the blade to dislodge the bone from it's place. The stranger screamed out in pain and dropped his gun. The Tourist quickly pulled the blade out right when the stranger grabbed his leg and fell to the floor.
The Tourist picked up the strangers gun and the stolen items. He pointed the gun at the stranger who was still screaming.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" The stranger screamed. His injury was spewing blood and the bone under his skin was at an off angle.
"You are going to tell me where the Tower camp is, cause I know it's near here on Bourbon Street," The Tourist simply said. "And if you tell me were, I will willingly give you the meds and bandages to fix yourself up."
"You sick fuck!" The stranger yelled.
"Times ticking."
"Ok, ok... they are just a few blocks down, the front door is boarded up with the Tower logo sprayed on it, you can't miss it. There is a fire escape that leads to the second floor, you can sneak in there!"
"Thank you." The Tourist was just about to help the stranger with his wounds when the sound of his watch went off. It beeped, once, beeped twice and then a third time. This could only mean the bell were about to ringing. Every day at a specific time a bell would be rung to stir a herd of the undead to one locations and any who didn't leave in time were eaten by the undead.
The bell began to ring out across Bourbon Street, there was no time for the Tourist to help this stranger. He got up and looked down the ally they were next to. He saw six walkers coming down it and six turned to ten and ten turned to seventeen and so on. The numbers kept growing and growing. At this rate The Tourist would not be able to make it to his skiff and get back to the broken bus he called home, but maybe the Tower camp could work.
"I'm sorry. The Tourist said before leaving the stranger .
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" The stranger yelled. In no time at all his yells turned in to screams as the horde of the undead piled on top of him to begin their feast.
The Tourist ran down the street looking back now and then to see how big the horde had gotten. After three minutes of constant running he saw the boarded up doors with the Tower symbol. The stranger was telling the truth. He didn't see the fire escape though. He ran up and around the back of the building to see if it was there and indeed it was, along with a few stray Walkers.
The Walkers saw the Tourist and began to move towards him. He quickly grabbed one by the head and pushed it back in to the others, causing them all to stumble and giving Tourist room to get up the ladder. He quickly climbed up the ladder and to the second floor. He sat on the fire escape for a few minutes to catch is breath. Thank god Walkers couldn't climb or he would be fucked.
After a few minuets the Tourist got up and walked over to a open window and peeked in, he heard voices and heavy armor clanking. It was most likely that the building had heavily armored Tower guards in it. The Tourist pulled off his backpack and began to go through his weapons. On his right hip he had a modified clever that he called the "4th and Pain." On his left hip he had a suppressed 9mm pistol with a laser sight. Over his shoulder he had a AR-416 that also had a suppressor and laser sight. In his bag he had a sawed off shotgun, three nail bombs, a extra military grade knife he had found and a pair of bolted up gloves that let him punch in his enemy's heads. On the sides of his bag there were to holsters where he could store two other large weapons. On the right there was a modified fire axe that once belonged to Gerik, the Axe Man. Instead of the standard wooden shaft, the axe had a long red metal one that was a lot more durable. On the left side of his bag was a chainsaw, it may not seem practical but it was useful for clearing out walkers and making his enemies run away in fear.
The Tourist put on his bolted up gloves and pulled out the military knife. He quickly switched the fire axe to his shoulder and holstered the AR on his back before climbing in through the window. He kept his flash light off so he didn't attract any attention while inside. He crept around the second floor, keeping his senses sharp just incase any one would try and jump him. He turned a corner to see a heavily armored Tower solider standing there. Their makeshift riot gear would force the Tourist to get in close and use his blade. He snuck up behind the armored individual and stood up. He threw his arm around their neck and pulled them back right when he forced the blade up behind their helmet and in to their skull. The armored soldier fell limp and the Tourist gently put him on the floor.
"Hey Tommy did you want a soda or not?" The sound of another Tower troop got closer as they came up the stairs. Once reaching the top they immediately saw the Tourist with the dead armored solider. "Your fucking dead!"
The Tourist jumped through in to the room the solider he had taken out was. He grabbed the Nova 1014 pump shotgun he had dropped and racked a shell in to the chamber. He quickly threw his body out the door and aimed the shotgun at the Tower troop. The troop had no time to react as the Tourist pulled the trigger and fired the shell in to the man's chest.
He heard more people rushing up the stairs, uncountably coming to kill him. This was no going as the Tourist had planned and he did not count on their being this many people. The first of the many troops immediately shot at the Tourist, hitting the shotgun in his hand and destroying it in the process. The Tourist rolled back in to the room and pulled out a nail bomb, he blindly threw it around the corner and heard it detonate. The people screamed before going silent. he could still hear one person. He looked around the corner and saw a woman holding a grenade.
"Fuck you Tourist!" She yelled before pulling the pin. The Tourist quickly pulled out his 9mm and shot the woman in the face, instantly killing her. The grenade in her hand fell to the ground and rolled towards the Tourist. His eyes winded and he tried to run the other direction. But it was to late, the grenade went off destroying the floor bellow him. He let out a short yell before falling backwards in to the hole and hitting the ground and hitting his head, causing him to black out.
The Tourist began to wake up, his head was throbbing and his hands hurt. He quickly pulled off his gloves and saw that his hands were horribly cut up. He stuffed the gloves in his bag and pulled out some bandages and painkillers to help with is throbbing head. He looked about to see where he had fallen, it didn't look like the building he was in. The walls and floor didn't match. He looked up to see not a hole in a second floor but a hole straight through a roof. He didn't understand at all. How could he have ended up here?
He pushed the wooden planks off of himself and got up, brushing small bits of ruble off of himself. He looked down and saw his axe, he quickly picked it back up and holstered it on his right shoulder and put his bag on. He was still not feeling great but the pain killers were helping. He slowly walked towards the front door of the building. Before he could open it the sound of small children screaming caught his attention. It was coming from outside. He had to do something, about it. Tower or not they Were still children.
He pushed the door open, ready to face whatever was about to be thrown at him.
The Tourist flung the doors of the building open and stepped out in to the sunlight. He stopped for but a moment to look around at his surroundings. He was standing in what appeared to be a small town. The other buildings had thatch roofs and long wooden beams holding them together. It reminded him of old victoriana housing, except more colourful.
But the only thing keeping it from being completely peaceful was the fact alot of the buildings were damaged and that he could still hear children screaming. He followed the sound of the screams, he turned a corner and saw something he was not prepared for. A very large number of very colourful horses? No they were to small to be horses, ponies yes that was it ponies. He looked at them in utter confusion, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not. He saw that they were all banging on the door to a decently large building. A sighn next to it reading Ponyville Schoolhouse. He had definitely not expected this. The large amount of equines on the outside banged on the door making incoherent sounds.
They sounded like Walkers. But he had never seen the infection effect an animal before. The Tourist grabbed his bag of his back and took out his AR. He let out one loud whistle to get the equines to notice him. They all turned around and looked at him with cloudy eyes and ripped up mouths. What struck the Tourist the most was their proportions. Large head with large eyes. It was strange, he might have even called them cute if it wasn't for their undead behaviour.
The equines began to move towards the Tourist and he opened fire in return. The ponies larger heads made it easier for the Tourist to take then down. He emptied his mag on to the group, killing most of them. He holstered his AR back on his bag and pulled his axe off his shoulder, ready to kill the few stragglers.
With a few clean swings he dispatched the undead ponies. He noticed the screaming had stopped and he looked around wondering if he was to late. He looked towards the schoolhouse and saw the front door was slightly open. He saw three distinct eyes looking out at him. When he turned towards the door it was quickly shut.
"It just killed all of them now its coming to kill us." A squeaky voice said from behind the doors.
"Quickly Applejack, help us hold the door shut." Another voice said. This one was noticeably older. He walked towards the door and looked at the ponies he just put down. He took note that some had horns, others had wings and some had neither. This was a little strange but for all the Tourist knew this was the afterlife and after he had fallen through that floor Walkers may have eaten him.
But for now he accepted this as reality. The Tourist has seen alot of shit, a guy wielding an axe in a bomb suit, a military bunker be opened and participating in the in the raid on the Tower's home. So seeing multi coloured ponies with wings and horns didn't concern him to much.
He walked up to the door and gently knocked on it. He heard hushed whispers of what sounded like five children, four women and one man. Suddenly the door slowly opened and a ponie with a bright pink mane and purplish coat looked out at him.
"Umm, hello... you look very, very concerned." The Tourist said.
"Y-yeah... I guess you could say that after I watched you kill those things." The ponies stuttered out. She was definitely female due to her voice.
"So, may I come in, or are you going to leave me put here with a bunch of corpses?" The Tourist half joked.
"Oh, right. Yes you may come in, just don't hurt any pony." The mare said before opening the door.
The Tourist took note of her strange choice of words as he walked in. Looking around he saw a decently large group of ponies all ranging in ages. One in particular was standing her ground in front of three fillies. She wore a large stetson hat and had an orange coloured coat. He looked to his right to see two other fillies looking at him, one was pink and the other was grey. He noticed the grey one had a bloodied bandage around her right hind leg. This quickly raised suspicion for the Tourist.
As he looked around more he saw a blue pony with a swirly pink mane. She was looking out the window in horror and concern. The Tourist's eyes finally lay on two final ponies. A stallion and another mare. The stallion was tan with a black mane and the mare was an odd shade of pink with a purple mane. He assumed they were a couple since they were so close together.
"So I'm assuming the world has gone to shit here as well?" The Tourist asked.
"Yes very, much so. And what do you mean as well." The pony he spoke to at the door asked.
"Well because this doesn't look anything like my home. So I'm assuming this is another world, but that's just a guess." The Tourist said.
Before the mare could say anything the mare at the window spoke up.
"W-where is he? Where is my husband?" She said.
"What does he look like?" The Tourist asked.
"He's yellow with an orange mane." She said.
A twinge of guilt went through the Tourist body, knowing fine well who she was talking about.
"Miss, I am so sorry. But I split his head open with an axe just outside." The Tourist admitted.
The mare turned to him and he saw her eyes fill with tears before she broke down. The Tourist looked at the other ponies who all looked at him with disgust. Expect for one. The mare who was with the stallion. She looked at him in curiosity and wonder.
"Well... I think introductions are in order. I am the Tourist." Said the Tourist.
"Are ya seriously trying to move on the conversation right after you admitted to splitting Mr Cakes, head open?" Said the orange pony.
"Well yes, because there is nothing we can do about it now." Said the Tourist bluntly.
"What does that mean?" Said the orange pony.
"It means once you turn in to one of those things, there is no coming back from it. You are forever changed!" The Tourist explained in a frustrated tone.
The room went silent, the orange pony's eyes turned to the floor. The Tourist stood there, looking at the group.
"Applejack... my names Applejack." Said the orange mare.
"I guess it's nice to meet you." The Tourist said Simply.
It had taken some time for the Tourist to grasp the names of all the ponies in the room but eventually he got a hold of them. They had spent the past thirty minutes describing what had happened to this world and who could have survived. The Tourist was skeptical as ever, questioning the ponies on what their course of action would be.
They had told him about how they planned to travel to a place called Canterlot. A large city that sat on the side of a mountain, now to the Tourist, that sounded like a fairy tail. The ponies told him that they believed it was a safe haven for everyone and away from the undead.
"So what are your plans?" The pony known as Cheerilee asked.
"Well my main priority is to find a secure place to call home." The Tourist said.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well I was thinking something small and sturdy but with plenty of room to fit all my stuff, just like my old place."
"What was your place like?"
"It was an old rundown bus in a graveyard. How it got their, I have no clue. But it was safe and secure, probably due to the fact no one wants to be near a graveyard when the dead are walking."
The Tourist chuckled at his small joke, Cheerilee did not share his laughter. She simply looked down at her hooves snd tapped them on the floor. The Tourist took this as a sign that the conversation had ended. He took his backpack off and sat it in front of him, next he removed the axe from his shoulder and sat it next to his bag. He finally removed his military combat knife and 9mm from each of his holsters and layer then down as well.
The Tourist slowly began to inspect each of his weapons, he made sure each of them were fully loaded and sharpened. This caught the attention of one of the foals, a small filly by the name of Diamond Tiara. She sat down in front of him and watched him curiously as he inspected each of his weapons.
"What's that?" The filly asked as she pointed her hoof at the Tourist's 9mm.
He smiled and picked up the gun.
"This is a 9mm pistol, a small but useful weapon. Good for protecting yourself." The Tourist explained as he began to remove the guns attachments, starting with the laser sight. The filly watched him unclip the small black object from the weapon. He then moved on to the silencer, he quickly unscrewed it from the barrel of the gun.
"What does it exactly do?" Diamond Tiara asked.
" Well as I said it's a weapon," The Tourist removed the magazine from the gun and held it up so the filly could see it. "You put this in to it and pull back the slider to move a bullet in to the chamber."
"What's a bullet?"
The Tourist pulled back the slider of the 9mm and ejected the round that was still in the chamber, quickly catching it while it was still in the air.
"This is a bullet." The Tourist said as he held up the bullet.
"It's so... small."
"Indeed it is. But that's what makes them deadly. They're small but extremely fast. Fast enough to break bones sometimes."
Diamond Tiara winced at the thought of a small metal cylinder hitting someone's bone hard enough to break it.
"I know that look, the idea of something so small being so deadly getting to you?"
"Y-yep."
The Tourist chuckled and began to reassemble the gun and reloaded it. This was nice, it wasn't normal for the Tourist to sit down and talk to someone or even be in the presence of others. He had spent so much time alone that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have a friendly social interaction. He looked over the room watching all the ponies, Applejack was sitting by her sister and her sister's friends, reading them a story, Filthy Ritch and Spoiled Rich sat close together. The Tourist wasn't a big fan of the stallion, it was the way he presented himself, he asked as if he was above the rest of them, especially the Tourist. However the same could not be said for his wife, sure she came off as a wee bit snobby at first, but the Tourist soon realized that her attitude was an act to pleas her husband. The Tourist was repulsed by the the simple fact that she had to act in a certain way just so her husband would acknowledge her.
The Tourist shook his head and looked away from the two and on two Mrs. Cake. She was asleep on a chair, nothing more could really be said about her. The Tourist disliked the thought that he had brutally put down her husband in the street. He sighed at looked away from her, what's done is done and he couldn't change that.
His eyes finally came to Cheerilee and Silver Spoon. Cheerilee had moved away from him once he began talking with Diamond Tiara. She looked like she was changing the bloodied bandages that covered Silver Spoon's foreleg. The Tourist had to admit that despite being a school teacher, she certainly knew what she was doing. Silver Spoon had been sweating bucket, clearly suffering from a fever.
When the bandage was fully unraveled from Silver Spoon's leg, the Tourist froze and his blood ran cold. There on Silver Spoon's foreleg was a bite mark, a nasty one at that. It was still bleeding profusely but other than that it was clear the ponies had tried there best to clean it.
The Tourist grabbed his gun and got to his feet quicker than the eye could blink.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me about this?" The Tourist demanded as he pointed a gun at filly.
"What are you doing?" Cheerilee yelled.
"When did she get this bite?"
No one spoke to afraid to do anything. The Tourist turned to Silver Spoon.
"When did you get this bite?"
"J-just a few hours before you got here." Silver Spoon stuttered out.
"SHIT!"
The Tourist moved the gun away from the filly's head and put his hand on his knees as he left over.
"Oh fuck!"
"What? What's wrong?" Applejack asked as she made her way towards the Tourist.
"Silver is fucking bit."
"What's so bad about that? it's just a bite."
The Tourist turned to Applejack with fury in his eyes and stormed towards the mare.
"No it's not just a bite. She is going to die."
"What in Celestia's name do you mean?"
"The fever she has is going to kill her, then she will come back as one of those things outside."
"How do you know tha-"
I've seen it happen!"
All was silent, not a soul dared to speak. The Tourist walked back to Silver Spoon and went down to her eye level. He began to whisper something to her and showed her the 9mm. She nodded and whispered back. The Tourist nodded and signaled for her to go in to another room.
"I've given her a choice... I asked if she wanted to wait it out or if she just wanted it to end." The Tourist said in a sorrowful voice.
"And what did she choose?" Diamond Tiara asked.
"The second option."
There was a small collection of gasps as the ponies took in what was going to happen to the filly.
The Tourist made his way in to the room with Silver Spoon, and slowly closed the door behind him. They didn't need to see what was going to happen.
"Are you ready?" The Tourist asked.
"Y-yes sir." Sliver Spoon said. Her eyes had filled with tears and she was shaking. The Tourist placed his hand on her head and stroked her mane. He slowly walked around behind her and raised his pistol to her head. He convinced himself that this was mercy compared to what could happen to her. The filly continued to cry and wrapped her forelegs around a stuffed teddy that was nearby.
There was a small pop and the crying stopped.
The Tourist stepped out of the room holding something in his arms, it was completely wrapped in a blanket to hide what it was. Everyone knew what it was or rather who it was. Some of them had tears in their eyes, other sat in silence. The Tourist made his way towards the front door and opened it. He stepped out in to the schools playground and gently placed the wrapped up body on the ground.
He looked around for a moment and found what he was looking for, a shovel. He slowly made is way over to it and picked it up. He couldn't help but feel pain about what he had done. Once back at the filly's wrapped up body he began to dig a hole.
In no time at all the hole was big enough to fit the wrapped up body in it. He picked up Silver Spoon and gently placed her in the hole. The others had come to to witness this act. Th Tourist stood silent for a moment, not doing anything. Then he picked up the shovel and began to fill in the hole.
Well look at you Tourist, it seems you have found yourself in quite the pickle haven't you. Caught in another world run by colorful ponies, that is something one doesn't get to hear everyday. But then again it's not everyday someone dreams of me, a dead man. A dead man who happens to be your subconscious.
It hasn't been all that long since you disappeared out of Nola, and already the city is plunging back in to chaos. No one knows where you went to. Some believe you left Nola, other believe you have died. But none would guess you are here. You were the one keeping it all in balance and without you, the dead roam the streets, and the Tower and Reclaimed continue their never ending battle for the soul of the city.
The only one's that appear to be trying to keep the city in check is the Pawn King, Father Carter, the exiles and believe it or not the Axe man. Yeah, you didn't think Garik would be back out there so soon after you beat him and stole his weapon.
He's been cleaning the streets looking for you. He still wants his revenge for his family's death. But in his attempts to find you he has been keeping Reclaimed and Tower soldiers off the street out of pure fear.
Truthfully it doesn't matter, but what does matter is if you don't go back soon, the city will be over run by death and destroyed by the dead. Just like Mama intended, but only she won't be there to see it, will she Tourist.
But as for you... what will you do Tourist. Will you be the savior of this new group you find yourself in, will you help then reach their destination or will you leave them and forge your own path. The choice is yours. But with what I've see you do and how you like being alone, I would guess you would take the second option. After all... most people who trust you end up dead. For example, look at May and her daughter Umbera. They are dead. And of course there is me, strung up in a tree like an animal.
But I'm not mad about it Tourist, after all why should I be, you did accept my last request and killed me.
But you must still be careful with who you can trust. There are few saints out there and a hell of alot more sinners. They may seem friendly but keep in mind when the world goes to shit... people change, well I guess in this case ponies will change.
Now Tourist make your choice. Choose who to trust and who to not, who to spare and who to kill.
It's a crazy world out their Tourist, and I would hate to see you die by the hands or should I say hooves of some undead horse.
But I guess we will have to wait and see, won't we Tourist.
The group walked through the town, checking every corner and ally way for any threats. Any undead pony they found the Tourist would swiftly dispatch with a stab or silenced gun shot to the head.
It had only been five hours since Silver Spoon's death and it showed a heavy weight on the group. Not all of them liked the filly but her sudden demise had greatly impacted the way they viewed this world.
The Tourist was oddly intrigued by the world around him. It was extremely vibrant, as if it was from a cartoon. The Tourist found this very welcoming and a good change of pace from the dull streets of New Orleans. But he knew it wouldn't last, he knew that soon this world would change to be as dull has his home. This place was something special but it would be impossible to preserve it with the world going to shit. It was obvious that this world was still in the early stages of the virus. But that would change quickly, as more of these ponies would die.
He looked back at the group following him, they all had their heads hung down low, except for one. Spoiled Rich, she was looking at him with those eyes that wanted to know more about him. Her husband Filthy Rich, had made sure they had no interactions. He didn't let her get close, didn't let her speak to the Tourist, even during their introduction he spoke for her. This pissed off the Tourist slightly but he understood that he was a violent stranger to these ponies.
The Tourist turned away from the group and his eyes locked on to another undead pony. It saw him and began to move very slowly towards him. He unsheathed the 4th and Pain before getting close to the pony. It lunged at him and he brought the makeshift cleaver across the pony's head, logging it in the side of their skull. He pulled it out with a sickening squelch and kept walking, he looked back for but a moment. He could see the group look at the corpse in slight disgust as the blood oozed from the massive gash in the pony's head.
"I think we're here." The Tourist called out as the group stopped in front of a building. A sign next to it read "Ponyville Train Station". Yep this was definitely it.
"Yeah this is it," Applejack said. She made her way to the front of the group and next to the Tourist. "Now what?"
"Well I say we look for supplies and a way in to the main office." The Tourist suggested.
"Agreed."
The group split up and began to walk around the station, looking for anything useful. The Tourist noticed a small room which no one had been in yet. A sign next to it said "Storage Cupboard". There had to be something in there worth taking. He walked up to the door and turned on his flash light before opening the door. Immediately the smell of rotting flesh hit his nose. It was something he had mostly gotten used to but what was ever festering in here had been in there for quite a while.
Something pushed against the door on the other side forcing it further open, the Tourist let go of the handle and walked backwards, letting what ever it was come out. The door swung open and an extremely thin and pale stallion acme out. The Tourist noticed they had a key logged in to what would be their wrist. The Tourist presumed that they had cut open their wrists with the key. The stallion struggled to walk, occasionally stumbling. It's eyes were on the Tourist, it let off a low gurgling growl and got closer. The Tourist took out his cleaver and struck the stallions neck. Their head was removed from the rest of their body and it hit the ground. The Tourist walked over to the stallions head and saw that the mouth was still moving. The Tourist brought his foot down on the stallions decapitated head, breaking their skull open.
"Got to be the brain."
The Tourist knelt down and grabbed the key in the Stallion's wrist. It took a few tries to remove it but with a hard yank the key was removed.
Applejack tugged and pushed on a door trying to get it open.
"Your never going to get it open, it needs a key" Filthy Rich said.
"Oh shut and let me try." Applejack shot back. She continued to try and force the door open but it didn't budge. She slammed her hooves against the door in defeat.
"Damn it." She said before trotting over to a nearby bench were Mrs. Cakes and the fillies where sitting. She put her hooves to her face and sighed. Never did she think her life would turn out like this. At that moment the Tourist walked in and immediately noticed Applejack's attitude.
"What's up with you?" The Tourist asked.
"That door needs a key which we don't have." Applejack mumbled out.
"Well todays our lucky day, cause I just found a key that I bet opens that door."
"Really?"
"Really."
The Tourist held up the key for Applejack to see. A grin split her face before she got up and made her way towards the door. The Tourist followed and stood next to the door with her. The slid the key in to the lock, it fit perfectly. he turned they key and an audible click sounded out. They both opened the door eager to see what lay inside. When they looked in they saw that the room was filled to the brim with the dead. They slammed the door shut and backed away from it. The undead ponies on the other side growled and screamed as they tried to get out.
"Before you get all pissy Apples, I have an idea." The Tourist said.
Oh yeah, what could that-" Applejack's jaw dropped when she looked back at the Tourist. He had pulled a very large and strange contraption off of his back. "What the hay is that?"
"Oh this? This is a chainsaw. Perfect for clearing that room." He said as he held the weapon up by it's two handles.
"Know this idea?"
"Well I'm going to need you to open that door and shut it behind me."
"Wait, What! Your going in there?"
"Yep. No lets get to it we don't have all day."
The Tourist walked over to the door and Applejack followed. He pulled the ripcord on the chainsaw and it's engine started to hum. He turned to Applejack and nodded. She grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. The Tourist kicked the undead ponies back and entered the room. He pulled the large trigger on the chainsaw and a loud roar emitted from it. Applejack closed the door just before she could see the carnage unfold.
The group sat in stunned silence as they listened to the sounds of the undead screaming, the chainsaw's roar and the juicy sounds that came from the room.
The roar of the chainsaw filled the room as The Tourist, swung it in to one undead pony after the other. He had been in the room for roughly eight minutes and it still wasn't clear. It felt like an endless onslaught of the undead was just being thrown at him. Once finished with one pony, he spun around and his chainsaw caught another one under the jaw. As he began to push the chainsaw further in to the pony's head, he heard another one come up on his right. As he kept one of his hand on the Chainsaw's trigger, he reached down to his hip and pulled out his 9mm and quickly fired it in to the pony's head before continuing to cut in to the other one.
The Tourist, was practically covered head to toe in blood. His hair was a mess and sweat dripped down his face. He stepped back from the ponies for a moment to see how much progress he had made. To his surprise there where very few of them left inside the room. With no hesitation he rushed back towards them and immediately carved in to the closet pony's head.
"What do you mean your leaving?" Applejack, said in a distasteful tone.
"I mean, I'm taking Spoiled here and my daughter and we are leaving this place." Filthy Rich, said.
"Why are you doing that?"
"You really don't get it? It's The Tourist, I don't trust it."
"It? IT!" Applejack, yelled. "He has helped us more than you ever have!"
"I don't have to listen to this. We're leaving," Filthy Rich grabs Spoiled Rich and drags her away. "Come along Tiara."
Dimond Tiara, did not move. She remained firmly planted next to Scootaloo, Sweetie Bell and Applebloom.
"I said come along Tiara!" Filthy yells. Dimond Tiara, shook her head and stepped closer to the other three foals. "Fine if you want to stay here with that thing and die, so be it!"
With those final words in Filthy, troted out and draged Spoiled, with him. Spoiled, struggled in his grasp not wanting to leave her daughter. But every time she was about to break free, Filthy, pulled her back. Applejack, watched them leave. She felt guilty about it but there wasn't much she could do to stop them. She had a sinking feeling in her gut, like something bad was going to happen.
Eleven minutes had passed since The Tourist had entered the room, the ponies had simply sat there and listened to the sound of the chainsaw in the other room. Eventually the sound stopped and three distinct knocks came from the door. Applejack, got up and approached the door. She slowly opened it and looked up to see The Tourist, covered in blood. She gasped and stepped back letting The Tourist, out. The Tourist stepped out of the room, his chainsaw hung limply in his hand.
"I wouldn't recommend letting the kids go in there, better yet I wouldn't recommend anyone goes in there, cause it smells god awful and looks worse." The Tourist said as he pointed at the door way with his free hand.
The ponies looked at him with what was a mixture of disgust and horror. Never before had they seen someone covered in so much blood.
"Hope I didn't keep you waiting to long." The Tourist said.
"Not at all." Applejack said. She tried to peek around the Tourist to see in to the room, upon seeing the dismembered bodies she wished she hadn't. She practically turned green and looked at away.
"I did say it looked bad."
"Yeah, you weren't kidding."
The Tourist walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, he let out a sigh and slumped back. He sat in silence for a while looking at the ponies around him. He noticed something was off, there was two ponies missing.
"Where are the Riches?" The Tourist asked.
"They both left, I'm not sure where they could have gone." Mrs Cake said.
The Tourist let out a sigh before getting up and making his way towards the exit.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah. Where do you think your goin?" Applejack said. Her eyes where fixed on the Tourist.
"I'm going out after them." He simply stated.
"No your not. You just got out of that room. You need to rest."
"No time for rest. I gotta find those two before they end up dead."
The Tourist stepped out the door before looking back.
"You wouldn't happen to know where they might have gone?"
"It's possible they went to the Stable." Mrs Cake said. "It's a new club that Filthy Rich had invested alot of bits in to. It's only a few blocks away from here"
"Thanks for the tip, I'll check it out." The Tourist said before looking out at the rest of the ponies. "All of you stay here. I shouldn't be long."
With those final words he closed the door.
The Tourist walked down the streets of ponyville, trying to find this club. He had been walking for roughly five to ten minutes. He took this time to think his course of action on what he would do once finding Spoiled and Filthy.
He'd probably force them back to the train station. As he continued something came in to earshot. It sounded like music, loud music at that. He quickened his pace and made a sharp left turn down another street.
After a few seconds the club came in to view. A large sighn that read "The Stable" was lit up in a bright neon blue. The Tourist could hear the music coming from inside the club. Looking at the entrance he saw a large number of undead ponies stumbling through the open doors.
The Tourist took off his bad and began to look through it. He pulled out his knife and his sawed off double barrel shotgun. Just before he closed his bag his bolted up gloves caught his attention. He reached in and pulled them out. He look at his bandaged up hands and them back to the gloves.
"Screw it." He said before putting them on. He let out a hiss of pain as the bandages were rubbed against the cuts on his hands. After a large amount of discomfort and some adjusting the gloves where on. He finally put his 9mm pistol and his cleaver in to his bag before returning it to his back.
"Alright, let's do this."
He rushed towards the open doors of the club and pushed past the the ponies. Most of them hadn't seen him coming and hadn't noticed him. As soon as he passed them and entered the building they all took notice. He didn't stay to close to the doors to fight them.
The music was even louder inside the club which brought more and more of the dead to the doors. The Tourist looked back for but a moment and saw all the ponies making their way towards him. He heard a snarl and he looked back to in front of him. He had but a few seconds to raise his knife and plunge it in to the pony's head. He quickly pulled the knife from the ponies head and raised his shotgun with his free hand and fired one shot at another pony and then firing the second shot at another one. He quickly flicked the the barrels down and loaded another two shells in before flicking it back up.
He pressed forward deeper in to the club, more ponies stepped out of the darkness at him and he swiftly put them down with his knife. The Tourist stepped over the bodies of the ponies and marched forward. A sudden scream directed his attention to nearby staircase, he quickly ran over to it and rushed up them.
It didn't take long for him to locate the Riches, they were both holding a door closed. The Tourist began to move towards them when the first hinge on the door snapped. Immediately Filthy Rich ran from the door and not long after the second hinge snapped. The door fell forward on top of Spoiled and she let out a scream. Undead ponies emerged out the door and fell over trying to get at Spoiled.
She looked at her husband and screamed for help. But he did not, rather he turned tail and ran to save his own skin. The Tourist sprang in to action and began to stab each of the ponies in the head.
A large undead stallion's mouth drew closer and closer to Spoiled's face. Its jaws snapping, trying to bite at her flesh. Just as it was about to get her the sudden tip of a blade came through the top of the stallion's head and it stopped moving.
She let out a squeal at the sudden appearance of the blade and the faint trickle of blood on her face. The blade was pulled back out and the stallion's lifeless body was thrown to the side. Spoiled looked up and saw the Tourist standing above her. He holstered the knife on his right hip before lifting the door off of Spoiled.
She immediately sat up and hugged the Tourist. This caught him off guard, not expecting this kind of response.
"Thank you." She said in a hushed voice. The Tourist was about to respond when a pained scream was heard, the Tourist could already guessed who it belonged to.
He gently pushed spoiled off of him and made his way in the direction filthy went. It did take long to find the stallion slumped against a wall. Next to him was a dead pony with caved in head and a bloodied candle stick next to it. Filthy was breathing heavily, his right hind leg was a mangled mess with massive bite marks all over it.
He finally took note of the Tourist looking at him and spoke.
"T-Tourist, you gotta... you gotta help me." He stammered out. The Tourist simply stared him down. This stallion was willing to have left his wife to die, the person he was supposed to love. But no he decided to run away like a coward. Besides, there was no helping him with that messed up leg.
The Tourist upholstered the sawed off shotgun from his left hip and pointed it at Filthy. His eyes widened and tried to speak.
"Wait, wait Tourist! What are you doing? You don't need tha-"
He was promptly cut off with a loud bang from the weapon. Immediately half of Filthy's face was ripped apart by the spray of pellets. He slumped over and the Tourist lowered his gun.
It took some time and alot of effort but eventually the Tourist and Spoiled were able to make it back to the train station. Spoiled looked absolutely petrified and the Tourist, well he looked just about the same as when he left the station.
He noticed a faint trail of smoke going in to the sky from behind the station. He slowly walked around with Spoiled and saw the rest of the group sitting around a fire with an assortment of food.
Applejack saw the both of them and and waved them over. The Tourist smiled and joined the ponies. He sat on the ground between to Applejack and Applebloom. Spoiled sat opposite the fire from him with Mrs Cheerilee.
"Where's Filthy?" Applejack asked.
"He's dead." The Tourist said. Applejack took note of his severe lack of emotion when he spoke.
"Y-you don't seem concerned that you couldn't save him."
The Tourist sighed and looked in to the fire.
"He was a piece of shit who left Spoiled to die. He got what he deserved."
Applejack was taken back by his words. She could never imagine somepony saying something like that. They both fell silent. Applebloom tapped the Tourist's arm and offered him a sandwich. He smiled at her and took it.
"So Tourist, got any stories about your home?" Scootaloo asked enthusiastically.
"I might have one or two to share." The Tourist responded.
"Oh, tell us, tell us!" Scootaloo demanded.
"Heh, ok, ok I'll tell you one. But it won't be pretty."
All the ponies leaned in, eager to hear the Tourist's story. Even Applejack, she found herself wanting to know more about this strange individual.
"This story didn't happen to long ago. I had marched through the sewers of New Orleans, fought an army of the undead to and climbed through a broken wall of a warehouse find my target. A man named Gerik, the Axeman."
The Tourist dropped down from a small vent opening. He looked around and saw he was in some kind of break room. Looking to his left he saw an open door and went through it. He found himself in a big open storage room on the second floor. Right across from the door he just came from there was a table with blueprints for some kind of bomb.
The bomb was composed of three parts, the detonator, the case and the explosive itself. Upon approaching the table he found all three components. It was simple enough to assemble. After roughly a minute or so he had completed the device. He admired it for a moment. Before walking along the catwalk above the warehouse's main floor.
"It seems are moment has arrived, Tourist." The sound Gerik's familiar thick German accent shot out from the warehouse's intercom. The Tourist instinctively looked around to find his target to no avail.
"I must confess, I am disappointed in you. You struck me as a lonely wolf, but you are nothing but a pawn. A Tower lackey if ever there was one. I know, because I used to be like you. My wife too... Servants the the Tower of lies. You probably don't even realise it! But you are. I have good news though. In moments, you will be free from the tyranny, I will sever you from the lies. In death, you will finally know the truth. And after I am through with you, the Tower will face it own reckoning. Picture it Tourist eh. Mama's precious beacon of corruption, reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble and burnt flesh! The curse of the Tower finally lifted. But thar is for another day. This moment is our moment."
It was at this moment Gerik paused and sighed before continuing.
"All are guilty. Spare No One. Swift Vengeance. Brutal Justice. Infinite Wrath. VIOLENCE BRINGS PEACE!"
There was a sudden thud as if a door had been slammed shut. At this point the Tourist had made his way to the ground floor of the warehouse. He kept himself hidden in the dark to make sure Herik wouldn't see him. Then he heard the sound of loud booming footsteps. The sound made his blood run cold.
He didn't know where it was coming from, it seemed to bounce of the warehouse's walls. He slowly made his way go a corner and turned on his flashlight before he upholstered the SMG on his hip.
Upon turning the corner he came face to face with a large man in an armoured bomb suit with intestines decorating it like a necklaces. A large metal plate with small holes punched in to it covered the man's face. The Tourist raised his SMG and fired. The bullets did nothing to the armour behemoth as it approached him. The man in the armour raised his fire axe and swung it down. The Tourist took a quick step back from the attack and continued fire his gun. Eventually the man stumbled back a little, seemingly stunned by the bullets. The Tourist ran the opposite direction from his assailant.
"You can inly scurry away for so long, rat!" Gerik yelled. The Tourist looked back for but a moment and saw Gerik hot on his trail. With a quick decision the Tourist made a right turn and up the ramp to the upper floor of the warehouse. After running a little more he spun around and removed the make shift grenade launcher from his back. He watched as Gerik made his way to catwalk.
Once he was at the perfect angle the Tourist fired the grenade launcher. The small red projectile struck Gerik and detonated. Gerik seemed stunned by this but continued his march towards the Tourist.
"Pathetic grenades!" Gerik yelled. The Tourist was shocked, he was hoping this weapon would have atleast done some kind of damage, but yet Gerik didn't seem phased at all.
"God damn it Whistles." The Tourist muttered before he holstering sprinting away. As he ran he noticed the table to his left with the bomb on it. That would most likely do the trick. He made a sharp left turn and grabbed and made it to the table.
Just before he picked up the bomb he noticed a small note next to it. The note simply read, "Designed by Casey."
"Heh, Carey you clever bastard." The Tourist said with a small smile, he quickly thought back to how be had been the one to save Casey from the reserve when it was flooding. His reminiscing was cut short as he saw Gerik practically on top of him. The Tourist scooped up the bomb and and threw it over the railing to the floor bellow before quickly following.
He hit the floor with a thud and let out a wince of pain, thankful the bomb didn't go off. He grabbed it with one hand and dragged it to a large opening. He pulled his grenade launcher off his back against and pulled on the barrel opening the top of it. He slammed a new shell in to the waiting chamber of the weapon before pulling it closed. He looked around trying to see where Gerik was. There was a thud behind him as Gerik dropped down from a broken railing.
The Tourist backed away from the bomb and kept his weapon trained on Gerik.
"Death draws near Tourist!" Gerik said. When he was close enough to the bomb the Tourist aimed to the explosive device and pulled the trigger. The grenade hit the explosive but nothing happened. He let in a sharp inhale as if wishing for a miracle. Not a second later the grenade went off and detonated the bomb.
Metal shards where thrown from the explosion and struck Gerik. He let out a gasp and fell to his knees.
"I cannot go on, my May, my Ambre... I'm sorry... I have failed... to Bbring us justice..."
The ponies around the fire where slacked jawed at the Tourist story. They never thought they would hear such a tale in their lives.
"What happened next?" Sweetiebell asked.
"We had a small talk and I let him live." The Tourist responded.
"Just like that?" Applejack questioning. "Even after he tried to kill you?"
"Just like that. The Tourist said. "All he wanted was justice for his family. He lost sight of that."
Applejack nodded and looked in to the fire. They all sat in silence for a few minutes letting the warmth of the fire wash over them.
"I think it's time we all got some rest. The Tourist said. All the ponies voiced their agreement and got up to go inside the station. The Tourist rose to his feet and kicked some dirt over the fire, plunging himself in to darkness.
