//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: A Shot of Life 
// Story: The Harvesters 
// by Master_Ovan 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 3
	

I’ve had a hard life filled with pain, agony, and distress. I have always been alone, no pony by my side to help me pull through. It has been just me. My whole life, it has been just me. My name’s Shots, and this is my story. 

The furthest back I can remember is from when I was five. I lived with my father in Trottingham. My mother had died giving birth to me and my father always blamed me for her death. It wasn’t fair, I didn’t mean to kill her. I was five years old for Celestia’s sake! I couldn’t even understand the reason he treated me like shit all the time. Because I was so young, there was nothing I could do about it. I just had to deal with being treated worse than a dog every single day of my pathetic life.

My father was a drunk, and unemployed. Every day when I came home from school he was in one of two conditions. The first wasn’t so bad. I would just come home to see him passed out on the floor in a pool of his own vomit. I would have to clean it up and get him into bed, but that wasn’t so bad compared to what happened If I came home to him on one of his bad days. The second condition I could have walked in on was one of most pony’s worst nightmares. I would open the door to see him standing there waiting for me with a cattle prod. I would try to run away from him and slam the door in his face but he was fast for a drunk. He always caught up to me. After he had caught me, he would beat me senseless until I could hardly breathe. The electricity from the cattle prod burned my flesh and left disgusting scars all over me. The physical pain was the least of my problems. Every night I would cry myself to sleep because of the emotional agony I felt. Why couldn’t I have a normal father? Why couldn’t I have a normal life? I hated everypony else in the world. How come they could be happy and I couldn’t? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all! I wanted to see them all suffer just like I had suffered. 

My father was only one of my problems. The worst problem was at school. It would have been fine if people would have just left me alone, just ignore me like a normal outcast, but no. I never got ignored. I got the most notice out of anyone in the class. I stood out because of my scars and my poor attitude and everyone made fun of me for it. But the worst was Leadhoof and his little gang of fucked up individuals. Every day at lunch they would come over and sit with me, constantly poking fun at my scars. They called me names and they even threw their food at me. This was all fine, I could handle name calling but one day they took it too far. One day when I was out at recess sitting on the swing, the only time I ever had to myself when nobody was making fun of me or hurting me, Leadhoof and his gang came up to me. Leadhoof had just gotten a switchblade for his birthday and apparently wanted to try it out on real flesh. I didn’t try to be tough. As a matter of fact I got on my knees and begged them not to hurt me. I pleaded with tears in my eyes, I just wanted to be left alone! Why me? Why the fuck did it have to be me!? As I was begging, Leadhoof just laughed and then bucked my face. I got knocked back a few feet off the swing and then the last thing I remember was them beating the shit out of me and cutting me with that switchblade. I could hardly breathe, the blood from my nose was getting caught in my throat. I couldn’t stop coughing and there were tears running down my cheeks. I felt myself growing cold, I thought I might finally be at peace, finally be able to die and escape from this world. I blacked out. 

I woke up a few days later in the hospital. They told me I was going to be fine. I wasn’t going to be fine, I was anything but fine. As it turns out Leadhoof and his gang got off with nothing but a warning. How was that even possible? They beat me half way to hells gateway and all they got was a fucking warning!? No. That was not acceptable. I decided to take matters into my own hands. For the next few years I spent most of my time in the library learning about different herbs and their uses. I studied harder than I ever had before until it was time to act. One day before school I went into the Everfree Forest and picked the herbs I needed for the concoction I wanted. I went home and mixed them up and filled four syringes up with 20cc of the poison and then I went off to school. It was the longest day of my life, I sat in class watching the clock tick away until it was time for recess. At recess I went and sat on the swing again like usual and just waited for those three ass holes to come over to me. Finally, they did. I stood up and took the three syringes out of my saddlebag and quickly injected one in to each of them. Then they proceeded to beat the shit out of me again. This beating was short lived. Within forty-five seconds all three of them were lying dead on the ground from organ failure. The poison was untraceable so there was no way they could pin the murders on me, seeing as nobody saw anything. Nobody ever watched when I was getting beaten, not even the teachers. I quickly ran out of the school yard and home.

When I swung the door open I found my father drunk, passed out on the floor. I took the final syringe out of my saddlebag and injected it into his throat. That was the end of my problems. Nobody was ever going to hurt me again. It was at this time I got my cutie mark. A syringe with two tranquilizer darts on either side. I stole the money out of my dad’s wallet and got on the first cart out of town. I was going to start a new life, someplace different. 

After a long ride I arrived in a small town called Ponyville. I paid the cart driver and he trotted off towards the next town. It was night time and I was cold and alone. I still hated the world for the misfortune it had given me. I didn’t think I could ever be happy again. That’s when I met her. A peppy pink pony named Pinky Pie. I owe her my life. On that night she took me in to stay with her. She taught me what it meant to smile. She taught me how to laugh again. She taught me how to forgive the world and live life to it’s fullest. She even got me a job as a Hunter for Prestige. He thought my special talent for poisons and anaesthetics would come in handy as a Hunter. 

I owe Pinkie Pie my life. Actually, I owe her more than that. She saved me from damnation. She made me a new person and accepted me for who I am. I love her. I just finished throwing the last pony in my quota on the cart and I’m heading back to the lab. I think it’s time I ask Pinkie out on a proper date.