Vincent Rourke entered through the front door and sat down at the bar with a few other guys. He didn’t recognize the two: one was dressed in the clothes of royalty and the other wore a white collared shirt with the spa logo on the left bicep and light blue pants. He also wears a black leather watch on his right hand wears a cross and a set of dogtags around his neck.
Vincent was wearing a set of MULTICAM pants, an olive drab tactical shirt with the sleeves rolled up with an American Flag and the legendary Special Forces patch on his right shoulder and a patch of a skull with the numbers 524 was on his left. A tan Special Forces plate carrier with two name tapes on the front that reads TALON and one that reads SECURITY. Under the tapes was a holster for his pistol: a FN Tac 45 on his stomach area and a sheath that held a CRKT FE9 knife. A coyote tan and black shemagh was tied around his neck and an olive operator hat with Bravo Headset and a Wiley X Spear Tactical Ballistic Goggles rested on to of his hat. A set of with two patches: An American flag on the front and one of the Wonderbolt's logo on the back. A Magpul ACR was slug to his side. A holographic sight, foregrip and PEQ15 laser designator was mounted on the weapon’s quad rail systems.
As he took his seat, the bartender spoke up.
"What’ll ya have?" he asked.
"Just a Corona please," Vincent said.
The bar pony checked his stock, before pulling out the bottle and sticking a lime slice in the hole.
"The cooler’s busted so it’s not going to be cold, is that okay?"
The man thought for a moment, "Eh, sure."
The bartender got out a small bucket and poured some ice in it before putting the bottle in.
"Rough day, huh?" asked the barkeep.
"You could say that," Vincent sighed as he took his hat off and set it on the counter while rubbing his short beard.
"I'm just glad I found someplace quiet," Lachlan said.
The bar pony seemed a bit irritated. "Hey, hey, hey! If you start saying that, people will be flooding in here faster than you can say-"
THWACK!
"Work, damn it!" a voice yelled in frustration.
The four turned their heads to see a young man in a set of ACUs over by the jukebox in the corner that had somehow snuck in without them noticing. A 5 foot 10 guy with a muscular build with light tan skin, hazel eyes, short cut black head of hair and a tattoo on his inner forearm that read Sua Sponte; was trying to get the machine to play.
"…See?"
"Hey there, kid," said Vincent "What’s your name?"
"Don’t call me kid," He turned to the bar pony, "How in the name of all things good and holy does this thing work?"
"Sorry, that thing's been broken for almost a week now."
The young man sighed and took up his weapon, a SCAR L assault rifle.
"Great. That's two bits I'll never get back."
"Tell you what: your first drink's on the house."
The young man seemed a bit happier now.
"Can you get me a Bug Light Lime?"
"Sure thing, boy," replied the bartender.
"Don’t call me boy," he replied, walking up to the table, "Just call me Jensen."
"Okay then, Mr. Jensen."
"You don’t have to call me Mr. either; I’m only 19," he joked.
"You got it boss," the barkeep said as he went to fetch the cider.
“I didn’t even see you come in. How long have you been here?” asked the man in the white shirt.
“I came on when you and Mr. Royalty here,” he gestured at the man in the royal garbs, “were talking. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I preoccupied myself with the jukebox over there,” the young man explained.
"So," Jensen turned to the three humans, "What’s your names?"
"Lachlan Goudie, herds mate to the Royal Sisters and inventor of the I-Pony"
"Raymond Phoenix, massage therapist for the Ponyville Day Spa."
"Vincent Rourke, Former US Army Special Forces, currently head of security for the Wonderbolts. Nice to meet you... Jensen, was it?"
"Private First Class Jensen Mastiff. Former 75th Rangers, currently a part time farmhand at Sweet Apple Acres and an EMT with Ponyville General Hospital. Nice to meet you, sir," he said as he wentto stand and salute before Vincent stopped him.
"There’s no need for that. We’re off duty. Besides, I never cared for that formality stuff,"Vincent sighed.
Jensen sat down with the other men, "Green Berets huh? What did you do for them?"
"Detachment Officer for ODA 524, what about you?" Vincent asked with genuine interest.
"I was a medic," said Jensen, "Bravo Company, 2nd Platoon, Raider Squad."
"Ah, the Rangers, I remember working with them on a few occasions," Vincent sighed.
Jensen smiled a bit, "Mind if I sit with y’all?"
"No problem," The three agreed as Vincent pulled out a chair and Jensen sat down with his new friends, just as the bartender was finished making his drink.
"That was quick," noted Jensen
"You got lucky. Usually this place is more crowded," replied Raymond.
The humans drank together in silence; each one thinking on something to say.
"Anyone got some stories?" the man on the opposite side of Lachlan asked.
"I got a few," Lachlan said.
"I got one," said Ray.
"Same here," Jensen said.
"I don’t think you want to hear mine," Vincent muttered as he took a swig of his beer.
"Can’t be as bad as some of ours," Lachlan challenged.
"You wanna bet kid?" hissed Vincent.
"Bring it," the man said with a smirk.
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you," Vincent grumbled as he took another swig.
As he set his bottle down, he began his tale.
[STOP BGM HERE]
Vincent
I woke up to the sound of crunching leaves and snapping sticks. Sitting up slowly in my tree, I raised my rifle and peered over the edge of the platform. I watched for any signs of movement but didn't see anything. Once I brought myself back away from the edge I heard the sounds again. I looked once more and still didn't see anything. I sighed in irritation and brought my head back once more.
I flipped down my NVGs and zoomed in on the source of the disturbance.
I scanned the area for 30 minutes, looking for the culprit only to find nothing disturbed or out of the ordinary.
I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise as my right hand started twitch, my natural "early warning" that something isn’t right. I focused on a spot in a brush about 100 meters away from me. Staring intently at the spot, I noticed two things were wrong. First, I don't remember that brush being so thick. Second, there were two golden eyes staring at me. I don’t know how I couldn't see them; they glowed like a lantern.
I raised my weapon to the spot...
"Come out with slowly, with your hands up! I WILL fire on you if you do not cooperate!" I bellowed out in an authoritative tone. I racked my rifle and aimed right between the pair of eyes. My rifle, already being loaded, kicked out live a live round and chambered a new one...
I watched as the figure stood still in the brush. A minute went by and the figure never moved.
"Last chance! If you don't show yourself I WILL fire on you!" I shouted out once more. I waited a few seconds before steading my aim and slowing my breathing.
I fired a single shot
… Then all hell broke loose.
2 Months Ago
Captain Vincent "Talon" Rourke of the United States Army Special Forces sat in the passenger seat of the Ground Mobility Vehicle, communicating with the other two vehicles in his convoy. The desert landscape reached endlessly out through the vehicle’s sand caked armored window as they move swiftly on a bare open road in the middle of, what the team had so classy dubbed, Butt-Fuck, Afghanistan.
He looks back at his team, ODA 524, to see his fellow operators: Engineer and Communications operator Sergeant Bryce "Rabbit" Mays, manning the turret up above. Sitting next to the Green Beret, is Weapons Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Lloyd "Silk" Ramirez, providing left flank security with his M249 SAW. Beside him is the team Sergeant, Master Sergeant Tristan "Flea" Ramos covering the right flank with his HK416. Behind the wheel is Warrant Officer Desmond "Remix" Rosin. Everything feels silent, too silent. Even to the Green Berets, their guts tell them there is something off. This is hostile territory. And they know they will be ambushed soon.
"Solid copy Strider, Talon out," Vincent finishes speaking to the rear vehicle, and sets the remote back on the radio.
At 30, Vincent is the team leader for 524. He is a Vietnamese American with spiky black hair and matching, closely cut beard with sharp, intelligent green eyes. He wore a tan tactical shirt, a set of ACU pants, Oakley sunshades, a shemagh tied around his neck, and a Bravo Tactical Radio Headset SEL around his head. Armed with his Magpul ACR Custom held between his legs, a FN Tac 45 in his holster, and a CRKT FE9 Combat Knife held in its sheath strapped to his chest, he was ready for just about anything.
"Talon, this is Big Shot, What’s the ETA to the village? Over," the lead vehicle radioed.
Just before Vincent could say anything, a deafening boom strikes as the lead vehicle about ten meters in front of Vincent’s truck. The road lifts upward from below the Humvee in front of them in a tremendous explosion.
"Shit!" Remix slams on the breaks, but they are soon caught in the blast’s shockwave and intense pressure and heat. Plumes of dust and smoke surround all around them as the lead truck disappears in the plume of smoke and Vincent is shoved back from an invisible force, nearly knocking him out.
"IED! IED!" shouted Silk.
"Back up! Get the fuck back!" ordered Vincent.
In a moment’s flash, Vincent sees the damage that has been done after one of the most frightening events he had ever seen. The hole is a meter deep, and five meters wide. A 155 artillery shell, probably timed, or phone detonated under the lead vehicle. The soldier turn to what remains of the Humvee; only the rear half is still intact, while the rest is completely obliterated. There is no sign of his men within or around the area.
Just as Remix put the vehicle in reverse, a white contrail of a RPG was seen streaking to the rear vehicle.
The rocket impacted the right side of the third vehicle, sending shrapnel and limbs out the other side.
In less than five minutes, ODA 524 was reduced from fifteen operators to five.
"DISMOUNT! EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!" screamed Remix.
The team dismounted the truck and provided 360 degree security around the GMV while Rabbit stayed on the turret.
"Silk, Rabbit and Flea, I want suppressive fire on that dune to the east! Remix, we’re moving back to the drainage ditch on the left of the road. Once there, we’ll cover the three as y’all come to us!" Vincent ordered.
"Roger that sir!" Remix replied as he checked his HK417.
"Standby-3…2…1 Suppressing!"
Vincent and Remix opened up as Flea and Silk sprinted to their position. However, Rabbit still stayed on the turret.
"Rabbit, get do-", Flea’s sentence was cut short as the crack of a Dragonov sniper rifle sounded off.
Rabbit’s head was jerked back and fell from the .50 cal machine gun as the 7.62 bullet nailed him in the throat.
The team was mortified as their youngest man was cut down before them.
"They got Bryce…" said Silk.
"Fuck!" screamed Remix.
"Remix get on the horn! Radio command for reinforcements," ordered Vincent as he reloaded.
"Roger!"
"Flea, Silk, I need you two to secure the house to our 6 o’clock. Everything in that bitch is cleared hostile."
Remix was on his radio, calling the company commander, Colonel Stephen "Godfather" Marks.
"Godfather, this is Remix of ODA 524! Do you read me!?"
No response.
"GODFATHER!! THIS IS REMIX!!!"
No response was made as the soldier manning the radio threw the mic down in frustration. Bullets were flying from almost every direction.
"I can't raise command. We're in our own boys!" yelled Remix as he shouldered his weapon.
"Fuck!" screamed Vincent as he and Remix covered Flea and Silk.
The two Green Berets sprinted to the house about 50 meters away from the ditch as bullets kicked up the sand around their boots.
A few seconds later, the two kicked down the door and started to search the house.
Flea and Silk cleared the entire two story house in about five minutes. Once they were done, they radioed Vincent and Remix to come to them while they lay down suppressive fire.
Vincent and Remix sprinted through the open door and took positions in the windows. Although he was the oldest of the group, Vincent could still keep up and fight with the younger men of his team.
"Remix, I want you to take out anything out there! Flea, Silk, take out those-", Vincent suddenly stopped talking when a shrill scream rang out above them. His blood ran cold and he kept his face as stern as possible, trying not to give away his concern, hoping against hope that the scream hadn’t come from Flea or Silk. He stopped himself from glancing up. His squad needed him to keep shooting.
The captain felt a dull thud across his back. Something heavy had landed on him, and it felt warm. Shuddering, he took his eyes off the desert landscape for a moment and shot a glance back at the weight. He joined his battle buddy as they shrieked in terror at the dead body that had fallen on top of him. It was the lifeless body of Flea, A large bullet hole in his stomach tore a portion of his intestines out and multiple holes were in his chest and face.
Another good man… Vincent thought sadly.
Vincent felt bile rise up in his throat as he fought to keep himself together. Remix groaned in despair as he tore his gaze away from those lifeless eyes and back to the battlefield. Both operators felt physically sick with Flea’s corpse in the room. The putrid smell and the deadweight of the body were nightmarish. There was nothing they could do though. Telling himself that he couldn’t afford to get distracted, he tried to focus on the job at hand. It was impossible for him to shake the image though. This terrible thing could just as easily have happened to Remix, Silk or himself. Feeling the gun’s recoil cease, he was relieved that he had an excuse to stop shooting. He was suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted.
Then a though flashed through his mind.
…Silk…
"Silk! Where are you!?" Vincent screamed.
Silence…
"It’s just us sir!" cried Remix as he reloaded his rifle. The 7.62mm full metal jacket finding its next victim with deadly results.
"I’m reloading!" Remix cried.
Suddenly, that crack of the Dragonov reverberated across the area again as a round impacted the wall to Remix’s right.
"Burn that motherfucker man!" screamed Vincent.
It didn’t take Remix long to locate the sniper drop him like a sack of potatoes. Vincent looks back over to Remix to see him staring back at me with a smug grin on his face.
"Good kill Rem. Now all we have to do is-", No sooner had Vincent said this when all of a sudden, the scope to his rifle shattered: everything seemed to slow down as he saw Remix fall back away from the table.
Vincent sat there frozen where he was looking at his assistant team leader, hoping that he will just sit back up laughing like nothing happened, but nothing happened. Slowly he inched his way to him, making sure that he stayed out of windows. His blood turned to ice as he was able to see that right where Remix’s right eye should be was a dark hole with blood flowing out.
Looking back over to his rifle, he can see that the sniper round, which due to the extra glass added to the inside of the scope for a better magnification, had busted out the top side of the scope and would have only given Remix a black eye, but only if he was looking through the scope at the time but he wasn’t. Instead because he had taken his head away from the scope to look over at Vincent, was the only reason he was now lying here with his lifeless eye looking back at him.
Vincent snapped. He was no longer the professional, high speed low drag operator that he once was. His sanity shattered as he witnessed the last member of his team had his life suddenly extinguished before his eyes.
"Alright then… If this’s how it ends, might as well go out with a bang!" he raged as he slung up his rifle and took Remix’s side arm, a 9×19mm Parabellum Glock 32. With both pistols out, he primes a stack of C4 plastic explosive before slinging it in his Mayflower vest’s built in backpack.
Vincent took up his weapons and charged out of the house while duel wielding the pistols.
The first insurgent, who was about 5 meters away didn’t expect his adversary to charge out of the house. A look of surprise crossed his face before fear took over as he saw the crazed look in his eyes.
The terrorist tried to raise his battered AK-47 but was thrown down as two .45 caliber rounds struck in his chest.
Vincent ran from the house back to the main road. Along the way, he had eliminated several terrorists who had tried to stop him.
Z-ZIP! THUNK-CRACK!
"UNG! GODDAMNIT!" Vincent roared in pain as a couple of rounds struck his vest. It didn't penetrate, the armor did its job, but it felt like a couple ribs had broken. All the while he kept going. He reached the burned out trucks and his fallen teammates before taking cover.
The insurgents were closing in fast and Vincent wasn't going to let them take him alive. He had seen what they had done to other service personal and contractors: Executing them by decapitation while videotaping it and posting it on the Jihadist website.
The insurgents were very close now, bullets biting the dirt all around. He looked up and sees the beautiful blue skies above him.
He always knew of the occupational hazards of his job. But he never thought of going out like this. He would be leaving his parents and his friends behind. Vincent’s mother always wanted a daughter while his father wanted a son. It looks like he would have to skip out on that promise.
Sorry guys…
He jumped out and ran to a nearby crop of boulders. The pistols still had a little over half of their full clips left.
Good enough, he thought.
He set up and started firing, drawing the attackers' attention to him as he started cutting them down.
He continued to fire as the rocks around him were being chipped away. Then his weapons clicked empty. He started to reload, loading his Tac 45 and taking a few pot shots to keep their heads down.
As he finished reloading the Glock, a thought ran through his head:
So this is how it's gonna end, huh? Hell of a way to break up the band.
He hated doing this to his family, hell, they were the ones who encouraged him to earn the Green Beret and supported him every step of the way. But someone had to do it. Might as well be him.
He resumed sending back his regards to the wave of assholes that thought they were going to stop them from taking out a few more of their brothers. He continued this for another two seconds until a stray round slammed into his left shoulder.
"Shit…" he swore, picking his sidearm back up with his right hand and trying to reload it. He started to move back as he was struck again in his right thigh, the bullet passing through the meat thankfully, but still sending searing pain rocketing to his brain. The tangos were getting closer, though they didn't seem to be trying to kill him as much as before. They wanted another prisoner.
Fuck that shit, he thought. He fired all his .45 caliber rounds at anyone he could see. Last clip, better make it count.
As he slid the last of his clips home, he saw a flash and heard a loud snap, it felt like a large amount of electricity had ran through him. He shook it off and started firing again, this time receiving another round to his front right chest, knocking the wind out of him. He struggled through the pain, firing until the slide stayed locked back.
Empty.
The rest of the insurgents were only a few yards away now. He brought up his rifle only to see that one of the rounds that had struck him in the back earlier had punched through the magazine.
Useless.
He had five full ones on him still, none for the Glock, and several more for the FN but there was no time to reload without getting a bullet to the head. They were here. Chanting and screaming in victory, even though he had almost single handedly taken out half their force.
One man broke through the crowd, a slightly newer AK-74U slung over his shoulder. He still had his shemagh on. He started speaking in Pashto to everyone else, eliciting another cry of victory from the group.
Vincent started feeling another tingling sensation, like electricity, coming stronger now.
I’ll be damned if the fuckers are gonna take me back, he thought, reaching for the detonator for the eight pounds of C4 strapped in his rucksack. He slowly retrieved it without the group of hostiles noticing.
The man then turned to him and lifted him off the ground, screaming Pashto into Vincent’s face. He spoke the language fluently thanks to the language training he received.
"سوف تدفع لجرائمكم الكافر"
YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES INFIDEL!
Vincent just grinned and replied in the speaker's native language.
"أراك في الجحيم موظر."
See you in hell motherfucker…
He then held up the detonator and squeezed the trigger. The last things he remembered were the priceless look on that asshole's face, a sharp shock -as if he had been struck by lightning- then darkness.
Everfree Forrest, Equestria
Slowly, ever so slowly, Vincent started to come to. At first, he couldn't process any thoughts, but then recent events started to present themselves.
I should’ve died.
He did die for a second, on his way to the afterlife. But then he began to feel a tingling, the sensations of his limbs returning as his body re-materialized. First, a bit of cold, the smell of must and the hard feeling of a packed dirt floor; then pain, overwhelming pain. It began in his left shoulder, traveling to his chest and ribs before ending with the rest of his body. It like he had been ran over by a semi-truck.
This doesn't make any sense; I should’ve been dust in the Afghan desert. Why am alive? he thought.
He slowly opened his eyes to cautiously and inconspicuously get an idea of his surroundings. The thing he noticed at once and with dismay,
I'm in a forest?
As he took in his situation he noticed quite oddly that there's no one here.
He looked farther up and saw that he was indeed in the middle of a clearing in the before mentioned forest. The opening was large enough to allow shards of the soft lights of dawn to faintly through the cracks between the forest canopy. In fact, it seemed as if there had never been another living thing in there for quite some time.
Well, now is a good time as any for a sitrep.
Gingerly, he sat up and checked himself over. Aside from the previously mentioned injuries, he seemed to be alright and the rest of the pain was fading. He felt for his rucksack on his back and noticed something odd. It felt as if it had been blown out away from him.
He took it off to inspect it visibly and sure enough, the large front pockets looked like something had exploded out of them. The rest of it seemed largely unscathed.
Now this makes absolutely no sense. It looks like the C4 detonated, but if it had then the rest of my rucksack wouldn't be intact. Even I shouldn't even exist right now, he pondered.
He started searching through the intact compartments, finding various items still where he put them, such as; some rations, battle dressings along with a small first aid kit, a small short wave radio, a few maintenance tools for his weapons, some batteries of various sizes, a lighter and even some spare ammunition for his sidearm and rifle and a few Claymore mines. The most exciting discovery was that his small iPod was still in the back pouch. Vincent liked to use it on long overwatch missions and also for the rides back to base after completing them. The music helped to calm him down or he'd get the shakes sometimes. Even the small fold-out solar panel was there. He could use it to re-charge his iPod and also the batteries for his radio. He then checked his tac vest and found his weapons and ammo still attached, his pistol lying beside him. The tactical combat knife he always wore was still in its sheath on his shoulder, along with the survival knife in the rucksack. His radio was still around his head, seemingly whole and undamaged. He quickly ejected the empty from his pistol and the damaged mag from his rifle, replacing them with fresh ones and storing the old ones in his sack.
After doing so, he broke out the first aid supplies and quickly patched up his shoulder and leg. It seemed that the bullet had thankfully passed through and had not hit anything important. He was very fortunate the bullet hadn't somehow shattered any bones during its passage. It would be painful for a while, but he could bear it. His ribs appeared to only be fractured in a couple places, but not entirely broken. He wrapped a few bandages around his torso before placing his black tactical shirt back on.
He was about to get up and leave, a loud roar filled the clearing that kept him rooted to his spot. Several deep shadows filled the edges of the clearing, their piercing red eyes glowing in the middle of the nothingness around me. Vincent’s breathing becomes ragged as he aimed his rifle at the noise. The snap of dry sticks echoed in his ears as a large lion/scorpion/bat hybrid stalked into his view.
What the fuck? He thought to himself in fear as he took its appearance. The thing circled him, one eyeing him up threateningly as it growled. He saw it bend down into a pouncing stance.
Breath. Remember your training…
He calmed down as he readied his weapon.
All of a sudden, the beast leapt forward as he dived to the right, the thing missing him by inches as it ripped the top half of the large tree apart. That did it for him as Vincent screamed in rage and started emptying the rifle mag into the thing.
The beast roared in pain and fury as round after round tore into its face and chest. The 5.56 round effective against the thing as Vincent only used about half of his thirty round clip.
The monstrosity fell in a heap of blood and meat as Vincent casually kicked the body to make sure it’s dead.
"Well that was easy," he muttered to himself.
Just as he said that, a loud roar followed by a series of howls rang thought the forest.
Oh shit…
30 Minutes Later
Dark outlines of trees zipped past Vincent as he ran away from the wooden wolves and the lion hybrid. He remembered his survival training from SERE School. He used only the dim moonlight for guidance as he tried to shake the beasts. The creatures took their time following him, almost as if they were merely toying with him as Vincent sidestepped every tree and jumped every ditch as he ran through the foliage.
Loud, whistling howls exploded from the dense trees behind him as the pack jumped onto a pair of trees, sending splinters everywhere. Vincent grunted he stumbled a little before regaining his footing.
The ruins of an ancient castle came into view as redoubling kicked it into overdrive. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he sprinted towards the castle.
As the castle became closer, he noticed a rickety old bridge as an idea came to mind. Reaching the bridge, he tore across it with the monsters about 150 meters behind him.
As he reached the end of the bridge, he spun back around and dropped to one knee before setting the fire mode to ‘semi’ as he started to pick off targets one by one. Feeling the familiar kick into his shoulder caused by the single shot, he opened up, soon emptying the contents of the half empty clip and one full clip he was using. With every shot he vented a little more pain and anger.
For Rabbit
For Flea
For Silk
For Remix
Click!
He finally ran out of ammo. All around the entrance to the bridge was where the bodies of the wolves littered the ground.
Tears welled up in his eyes as the memory of his fallen brethren resurfaced.
Vincent felt sick to his stomach as he reflected on the violence he had just committed and the state of how his men died caused him to vomit.
He gasped for air as more roars resonated through the forest. He reached into his backpack and pulled out one of the three Claymore mines that he packed for situation like this one. With the mine planted, he wired it to detonate on a trip wire before he collapsed onto his back. He breathed deeply as he tried to process what had happened in the last twenty four hours. The ambush, the deaths of his team, his final charge at the insurgents, his ‘death’, waking up in this new world; it didn’t make sense.
Closing his eyes briefly, he shivering as the adrenaline in my body started to wear off, reminding him that he was both lightly dressed (he was geared for the desert, not the forest) and still injured in a somewhat cold forest in the middle of nowhere. Gingerly, he rose to his feet again, as his legs shook as the pain began to tighten his muscles.
Looking back at the castle, he sighed and started making his way towards it, hoping that he could find warmth in a room or even find a few old blankets. The sight of it slightly unnerved him the closer he got, the building radiating a rather intimidating air about it.
XxX
"So that’s how you got here…" said Lachlan his head bowed. In shame for making Vincent bring up something like that from his past.
"Yeah… It wasn’t pretty," Vincent sighed as he finished his Corona and signaled for another.
Looking over to Jensen, he saw that the young Private had a 1,000 yard stare on his face. Something that Vincent knew too well.
"Hey now, you actually did me a favor," Vincent said with a sad smile.
Lachlan gave him a confused look.
"I never told anyone my story except for my marefriend," he explained.
XxX
It was mid-afternoon on the twenty seventh day that things changed for me. I was able to map out a fairly decent area of land around the castle, despite being the wildlife encounters and such.
Within the first few days, I had begun to build up the ruined castle to be more hospitable and made improvised camouflage by painting my face and rolling in the mud.
Within that week, I had started to go on the hunt for animals and edible plants. I need to save my ammo since I have no way of replenishing them, which is why I mainly used a series of simple traps, a crude bow and arrow and my knife.
Yesterday I had started to take pack my things. I had to find civilization. Although SERE had taught me how to survive, I couldn’t live out here forever.
I packed up my equipment and the Claymore mine I had set up at the end of the bridge, thanking God that nothing had tried to get to me thus far. Slinging my backpack on, I take one last look around the castle before heading out.
Dusk
"Alright, this should be good." Vincent said to himself as he stared at the large oak tree in front of him. Looking at its branches he noticed how easy it would be to make a platform to sleep on.
"Alright then, Time to go to work," He said with a wince.
Tonight would suck...
Vincent grabbed hold of some gnarled nubs on the trunk and started climbing. He'd never been much of a climber but the way this tree was set up, he looked like a pro.
Once at the branches were set, he worked his way over and sat down before carefully sliding his pack off. He dug through some of the pockets until he found some rope. It wasn't nearly enough but it was something. He looked around for anything to make it longer until he saw some vines a few branches up. He put his pack back on and tied the rope around his soon to be platform and climbed.
It wasn't particularly hard but it was a bit of a pain. His pack kept getting stuck on the way up and the rifle threatened to fall multiple times, but he kept climbing. He reached the vines and brought out his knife. He cut a large section of them before giving them a yank. They fell down to him easily and landed in a heap on his legs. He then grabbed one of the vines by two points and pulled, trying to break it, but he was quite happy when it didn't. Gathering them up, he climbed back down until he got to his rope.
Tying the vines to the end of the rope, Vincent threw it down to his little nest. He waited a few minutes before hearing the sound of something walking through brush. He picked up his rifle and aimed at the source of the sound. He nearly fell out of the tree when he saw one of those wolf things looking around the area. He looked to the front of the rifle and checked the suppressor on it. Giving a satisfied smirk, he lined up the sights and slowed his breathing. He lined up the sights and shot a bullet straight at the wolf’s head. A satisfying crack of the impact and the wolf fell to the side. He scanned for more targets. No even a few seconds later, another wolf trotted up to the dead one. Taking the opening, Vincent shot once more and hit the wolf squarely in the chest. He watched it stumble backwards and threaten to howl until he shot clean through the side of its head twice.
"He ain't going' nowhere now," I said to myself with a chuckle.
"This is actually pretty nice," Vincent said as he lay down and tried to get comfortable. Heset an alarm on his watch and fell sleep.
Nightfall
I woke up to the sound of crunching leaves and snapping sticks. Sitting up slowly in my tree, I raised my rifle and peered over the edge of the platform. I watched for any signs of movement but didn't see anything. Once I brought myself back away from the edge I heard the sounds again. I looked once more and still didn't see anything. I sighed in irritation and brought my head back once more. I flipped down my NVGs and zoomed in on the source of the disturbance.
I scanned the area for 30 minutes, looking for the culprit only to find nothing disturbed or out of the ordinary.
I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise as my right hand started twitch, my natural "early warning" was hinting that something isn’t right. I focused on a spot in a brush about 100 meters away from me. Staring intently at the spot, I noticed two things were wrong.
First, I don't remember that brush being so thick. Second, there were two golden eyes staring at me. I don’t know how I couldn't see them; they glowed like a lantern.
I raised my weapon to the spot.
"Come out with slowly, with your hands up! I WILL fire on you if you do not cooperate!" I bellowed out in an authoritative tone. I racked my rifle and aimed right between the pair of eyes. My rifle, already being loaded, kicked out live a live round and chambered a new one...
I watched as the figure stood still in the brush. A minute went by and the figure never moved.
"Last chance! If you don't show yourself I WILL fire on you!" I shouted out once more. I waited a few seconds before steading my aim and slowing my breathing.
I adjusted my aim and fired a single shot just to the right of the eyes.
Then a feminine voice screamed.
Shit…
Spitfire
I was wandering the Everfree for four days now… or was it five? A week?
I don’t know other than I had crash-landed in the middle of the accursed forest with broken wings and a sprained ankle.
Night had fallen as I took yet another turn in the forest when it erupted in a deafening staccato of thunderclaps. I dropped to the ground and flattened my ears as the thunder kept coming. After a few seconds the noise ended. My head throbbed as I stood and I staggered to the side. I had a deafening ringing going throughout my ears and that was throwing my balance off. Shaking my head, I tried to walk straight.
C’mon Spits, you've taken worse…
I looked down the path and ran the way the sound came from. It was hard to tell exactly but I got a rough estimate. After a few minutes I came across a large oak tree, little yellow objects on the ground, and a destroyed patch of brush with something solid and red in it. I looked around once more before I heard a voice I wasn't expecting.
"On the ground! I WILL fire on you if you do not comply!" a voice shouted from...Above me? I looked up and saw a…thing aiming a weapon over the edge of a platform made of tree branches. I would have yelled something at the thing but my thoughts were interrupted. The ground exploded to my right along with another, even louder thunderclap. I fell to the ground, the pain flaring in my ears. I heard the sounds of movement. It sounded like I was trying to listen through water. The ringing returned stronger than ever.
I felt something roll me over and when I opened my eyes I saw the thing looking at me. I saw him (I’m guessing, he looked masculine enough) mouthing something but I couldn't hear it. The sound of water had since been replaced with nothing at all. I pawed at my ears but found that it did nothing. I felt him run a finger through my ear and when he pulled it out it was covered in a red liquid.
My face fell when I realized what that liquid was...Blood. I started freaking out only to have the thing force me down. I saw him reach into his back and produce a cotton wad and stuck it in my ear. I tried to attack him, only to get pinned by this thing as he continues to work on my damaged ears.
Be for long, I felt him rise off of me before helping me up of me. I watched him turn to me mouthing, 'I'm sorry', over enunciating the words so I'd understand.
I shot him an angry glare as he helped me up before staring at me. I guess he never saw anything like me before the dizziness caused me to pass out.
Vincent
I saw that the golden object was, a golden, 5'5 Pegasus in a blue uniform. But what really startled me was that it looked somewhat human.
"Shit…" I muttered as I cautiously picked the thing up in a fireman carry. With the bloody ear, I can safely assume that it had a perforated eardrum.
The temperature was dropping fast, and I had no way of carrying the pegasus up the tree. Scanning around, I noticed a cave; about 300 meters away from us.
I started to march over to the cave. About five minutes later, I had laid her on the ground and put his ear to her chest.
"Good, she’s just passed out," I placed a hand on the mare’s forehead and stroked it comfortingly. About twenty minutes in, I got up and set her head down on my vest to use as a makeshift pillow.
"Alright then; looks like I’m not sleeping," I pick up my rifle before heading out to the cave entrance. Stealing a look back, I saw that it was sleeping soundly before setting up a defensive position at the mouth of the cave.
5 Hours Later
Spitfire
Vincent was still in his overwatch position when Spitfire awoke.
Guh, My head... she groaned mentally.
The golden mares eyes fluttered open and saw the cave walls. She was confused until the memories of the thing making her deaf resurfaced.
"What the?" She whispered as she looked around.
The mare slowly sat up as she kept her eyes on the alien before her. Her ears were mostly healed despite a subtle ringing in the ears.
As she crept closer to the thing, she readied herself to strike.
"Don't do that," the thing said.
Spitfire jumped and attacked the thing as it rolled on its back.
She tried to pummel the thing that abducted her, but was stopped as the thing caught her and put her in a triangle choke and rolling her over to the ground.
Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you," the alien said as he loosened his hold on the mare and looked down at her.
Vincent
"Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you," Vincent said as he loosened his hold on the mare and looked down at her.
"W-what?"
"I said I wasn't going to hurt you," Vincent repeated, "Now what exactly are you?"
"A p-pony, a pegasus more specifically," the mare said.
"Okay, next question: What is your name?" Vincent asked as he slowly let the mare up while keeping his rifle at a low-ready stance.
"S-spitfire. Captain of the Wonderbolts," she stammered.
"Alright... Spitfire. I have one more question. And this one is the most important one: where are we?"
"The Everfree Forrest, Equestria."
Vincent lowered his weapon.
Equestria? Where the hell is that?
"Who and what are you?" Spitfire asked, her nerviouness replaced by curiousity.
"I won't tell you my real name, but you can call me Talon. I'm also what you would call a human," Vincent said as he offered her water from his canteen.
Spitfire graciously accepted the water. Taking a mouthful before returing it to Vincent.
"Why can't you tell me your real name?" she questioned.
"The nature of my occupation demands secrecy. I can tell you that I am a part of my nation's military, and a special forces soldier on top of that," Vincent explained.
"You’re military? The Wonderbolts are the top flying demonstration group in the Equestrian military," she beamed with pride.
Vincent pondered this. She probably knew how to handle herself in events like this and knew how to reach civilization. That, and she could prove useful in getting the locals to accept him.
"Alright, Spitfire. Here's the plan, you get me to the nearest town and I'll make sure you get there in one piece. Deal?" Vincent held his hand out.
Spitfire thought for a few seconds before making up her mind.
"Deal."
And with that, the two headed out.
Hours Later
They were still walking, the pegasus having to speed limp to match Vincent's forced march pace. The two had hardly spoken to each other in that time and although this wasn’t exactly a new thing to Vincent, who was used to spending most of his time maintaining noise discipline; the silence was a bit unnatural. Though, the silence had given him time to think about his situation; either he had died and is sent to Purgatory and is dreaming of ponies; or he had actually hopped dimensions to a land called ‘Equestria.’ Either way, he decided it was best to swallow his original fear and adapt, just until he could get home. Maybe the shrinks would put it down to ‘fatigue’ and he’d finally be granted more than a week’s leave? He could actually go visit his parents for more than a few days. Maybe go hiking like they used to when he was a kid. Or, he thought again, this was real and for some reason he naturally felt comfortable around the one thing he'd met so far. Though he wasn’t exactly able to rationalize his feelings, other than that she seemed… ‘Human,’ for a pony that is…
He could tell however that his ‘friend’ (using the term lightly, as he still wasn’t sure if she’d forgiven him for nearly blowing her head off and strangling her or not) was simply buzzing with questions. Casually glancing back he noted the pony suddenly avert her eyes again, this time she’d been staring at the pistol holstered on his hip.
“Ok,” Vincent said, veering off the path towards a small rock that looked relatively comfy. “Two things: one, I think it’s time we took a quick water break. Two; just freaking ask me what’s on your mind will you?” As he said this, he dropped his pack and leaned the ACR against it.
“Let’s start with this thing,” he unclipped the holster, and drew his pistol. Spitfire simply looked at him.
“I saw you eyeing it earlier… I suppose you want to know what it is?”
“Well, it’s some sort of weapon isn’t it?” Spits cocked her head and added; “it’s not like any of the weapons I’ve ever seen…”
“Some sort is an understatement… Would you like me to show you?”
The mare involuntarily backed away, a frightened look playing across her face. He let out a chuckle at this.
“Relax; I’d never use it on you, there’s no need to be scared.”
Spitfire casually flicked her head up to one side and rolled her eyes; “Me, scared? Pfft, that’s rich. As if that tiny little hunk of metal could scare me...”
Vincent looked around, and saw a dead tree on the other side of the road, it’s trunk at the road was roughly half a foot in diameter.
“Alright, but you should cover your ears.”
In one deft motion he raised and aimed the pistol at the base of the tree, thumbed the safety off, cocked the weapon and fired one round. The base of the tree exploded in a hailstorm of bark and splinters, the rest of the tree shuddering for a moment before falling backwards in a heap of dead wood. Vincent secured and re-holstered the weapon, then turned around to find that the golden pegasus had jumped off the road and into a ditch at the sound of the blast.
He walked over to the ditch, and laughed at the quivering pony.
Oh c’mon ya big baby,” he laughed, tussling her flame colored mane playful, “It wasn’t that bad now was it? I can’t believe that the great Spitfire would be afraid of a loud bang and a little fire?”
“Scared? Pshh nah, I was just finding a comfortable spot to doze off in because I was so bored.”
“You’re shaking in fear in a ditch and I can tell that you nearly pissed yourself," Vincent deadpanned as a blush of embarrassment painted her cheeks, "I've done the same to many people in my career to mess with their heads and to make them become disorganized so it's easier to pick them off. Now c’mon get up from there. I know there’s more you want to ask.”
“U-um, well about that… You see, I can’t exactly get back up with only one good ankle…”
Vincent then shook his head.
"Think you can help me, please?" she asked in a begging tone.
"Well, I don't know..." Vincent pondered.
"Aw come on!", I know you won't leave me!"
"I don't think so... I didn't hear a certain word..." Vincent said.
“THIS ISN'T FUNNY!” Spitfire yelled at him, trying to climb out of the ditch but to no avail.
Vincent only chuckled before walking away.
"PLEASE!"
Vincent turned back around and offered her his hand. She then used it to pull herself back up.
"Now was that so hard?" Vincent asked.
"Jerk..." Spitfire mumbled.
Vincent stopped. He may have crossed the line. Social interactions were always a struggle for him.
Pulling her into his chest, he hugged her. She struggled a little before he spoke.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Vincent whispered.
“Its fine... let’s just... forget about it,” Spitfire said as her let her go.
After he released her, he heard her stomach rumble, causing her to blush again.
“C’mon, have some water and share a protein bar with me, then we can talk more on the way to the nearest town. I’m sure that there’s a lot more to this place than I know.”
4 Hours Later
Four more hours passed and Vincent could see that the pegasus was getting tired. Her head drooped a little low, and her tongue lolled out to the side a little. Plus she had stopped asking questions, even stopped talking in general; must not be used to walking everywhere, he reasoned with himself… Faking a yawn, he turned to his companion and said:
“Well, I’m about ready to hit the rack… We won’t be making it tonight.”
“Oh really?” Spitfire said, “I thought you were supposed to be the toughest?”
“Oh we are, but even Green Berets need their sleep every now and then. Besides, we can’t have the finest flier in Equestria diverting all her energy to walking, instead of healing that wing.”
“Whatever…"
Vincent laid his backpack beside a large tree in a clearing just off the path, and began assemble parts to build a makeshift tent and retrieved a couple of MREs… Then it occurred to him that the mare was probably vegetarian, so he placed them back in his pack and looked around the clearing instead. About 20 feet to his right was a large apple tree, so he grabbed six apples, and handed three to Spitfire, who thanked him and ravenously started stuffing her face. Vincent smirked before wolfing down one of the apples, then started a campfire with a twigs and branches, then began setting up his small tent. Just as he finished and was fishing through the backpack for a sleeping bag of some sort, Spitfire quickly jumped into the tent, turned a circle and lay down. Instead of being a little annoyed at this, the corners of Vinent's mouth twitched, and he laid his sleeping bag outside. Which was promptly snatched into the tent by the yellow mare, and she wriggled into it.
“Comfy!” She said, apparently impressed.
“I’m glad you like it,” Vincent chuckled, “but now where am I going to sleep?”
“Oh c’mon ya big baby!” She imitated, “I don’t bite… Unless you want me to,” she teased
Vincent smiled, and ate the last two apples outside. Having not really paid attention to the first one, he was amazed at how juicy and delicious they were. Nothing like the apples they had on earth. He sighed, hunger satiated and crawled into the tent, taking off his boots, shirt, and pulled off his pants as well; although, he kept his underwear on. There were some lines he wasn’t going to cross just yet. Crawling into the tent, the mare attempted to make room for him in the sleeping bag, which he laughed at and unzipped the side, so it was an actual blanket. They lay down, and to his surprise Spitfire rested her head on his chest, one arm around his abdomen and drifted off. He blinked, shrugged, and closed his eyes, trying to stop himself thinking about the gesture too hard; she wasn’t human after all.
XxX
The rest of the table was deathly silent. They were impressed by Vincent's encounter with the Wonderbolt captain.
“Well?” asked Ray.
“Well what?”
“What happened next?” asked Lachlan, his interest rekindled.
Vincent sighed. “Well, the joy didn’t last long. Because as soon as we thought we were safe, we heard something that almost scared us both to death.”
Jensen, Raymond, and Lachlan were all silent. Waiting for him to continue.
"So... what happened next?" asked Jensen.
XxX
5 Hours Later
After waking up and doing their morning routines, the duo tore down the camp and continued their march. After about an hour, they reached the outskirts of a town. The sign read Welcome to Ponyville.
Helping Spitfire along, Vincent encouraged her.
"C'mon Spits, you’re doing great. Just a little farther," Vincent said.
As they walked through the center of town, ponies started to scream in fear and hide in whatever shelter they could find.
"Anyone! I need help! I have an injured friend here and she need to go to the hospital!" Vincent screamed.
"It's no use Talon, they aren't gonna come out," groaned Spitfire.
Sighing, he knew that when the locals didn't want anything to do with him.
"I think I can see the hospital from here," said Spitfire as she gestured to the three story building with a red medical cross on the front sign.
"Alright, hang on," Vincent said.
"Wait, what do you me-", she was cut off as Vincent put her in a fireman's carry and fast marched to the building.
Just as he reached the front door, a pitchy voice, instantly recognizable as a child rang through the town.
“SOMEPONY HELP!” the voice cried as Vincent's eyes narrowed.
Setting the mare down on the chair, he immediately tore forward. He sprinted through the streets with his rifle at the ready as he tried to locate the voice as Spitfire tried to follow him to no avail.
He tore out of town reaching the side of the Everfree Forest in mere moments as he saw the cause of the child’s distress. A manticore and a large one at that was slowly circling the terrified filly. Vincent snarled stomping forward as he prepared to deal with the threat.
As the beast charged the filly, Vincent butt-stroked the animal with his rifle into the beasts head, causing it to grunt as he turned to the terrified filly.
“RUN!” he roared, the sound of his voice knocking sense into her as she bolted for the safety of town. The beast snarled in rage as its easy meal ruined as it set its sights on him. Two sets of predatory eyes glared at each other daring the other to make a move as the manticore circled the man.
Vincent had formulated a plan of attack as manticore snorted and rushed forward. Vincent fired off a few rounds into its muscular legs before rolling to the side as its armored tail batted him. Shaking his head, he fired at the beast’s chest as it swung its tail again. This time, the point of the tail struck a nearby tree, snapping the stinger in half as the beast howled in pain. Facing the enraged monster, Vincent drew his combat knife, holding the 9in. blade as a plan formed.
“Alright, motherfucker, let’s fucking do this,” he growled knowing how it could end. A blurred movement was the only warning he got as a searing pain crashed over Vincent's face. He staggered a bit as a warm liquid poured down his face. Wiping the liquid away, he saw his blood drenched hand come into focus. Grunting the human tried to flick the blood from his face. It was useless as blood half blinded him.
The beast then swiped at Vincent again, but because of his lack of vision, the beast's claws struck Vincent's arms and chest as a mess of blood splattered from him. His breath became shallow as the manticore panted, blood pouring from several wounds on its chest and face. The two circled each other, adrenaline coursed through their veins as time seemed to slow.
Lunging, Vincent bellowed a battle cry as he readied his knife.
A wet splat rang out as he stopped, the manticore was behind him. A painful silence rang out both parties frozen waiting as time caught up again. Small pricks of pain lanced his face as he finally felt the early stages of pain from the fight. Soon an agonizing wave of pain washed over him as he collapsed to his knees in anguish. The adrenaline still present in his blood allowed him to turn to face his adversary as he sighed at the sight.
The manticore fell to the ground its throat slashed open as he tried to limp over to it. The feeling of exhaustion and the bacteria from the claws caused him to finally fall to his back.
Sharp inhales of breath alerted him of witnesses as he looked up. There stood the townsfolk, their faces in different degrees of disgust and horror as he smiled.
“Talon!” Spitfire yelled, shoving her way towards him. Horror was evident on her face as he weekly waved towards her. She held him into her chest as she wept. Vincent mumbled something into her chest as his body protested in agony. Spitfire wrapped her hands around him as he brought her ear to his mouth.
"My name... is... Vincent..." he chuckled a bit before he blacked out.
taking another shot of whiskey Raymond and lachlan both stared surprised at Vincent's day's of living in equestria. Raymond tried to speak up only to hear the front door entrance open.