Chapter One
His eyes were glued to the cross hairs in the scope of his rifle, his muscles, solid as stone.
His body, unmoving as if it was laying there for a millennia.
The ghillie suit he wore provided perfect concealment in the wooded area he had been occupying for the last two weeks. His form blended in with the surrounding foliage and brush, making him melt into the environment like a ghost, his weapon, had camouflage of its own, and making it appear as if it was only a fallen branch.
No one would have seen this trained hunter if they were to walk by, he was a silent phantom, a spectral force that could end a life with just a though, and the twitch of a finger. He did not exist outside the reality of the town in which he had his sights on.
For days, he had been watching this quaint country village and it’s, rather fantasy like inhabitants. The sniper had not known of its existence, until by chance, he stumbled upon it. He had no idea how he got here in the first place, even though Afghanistan had forests, he doubt he was in the same country anymore, or even on the same planet.
When he was first flown in to Afghanistan via helicopter, he was a part of a squad of Force Recon Soldiers and the highly classified Delta team operatives. They were tasked to find and capture a Taliban general who had been the master mind behind multiple civilian bombings in Fallujah. After hours of searching the mountain side, they finally found a small compound in the mountain valley. After the team had set up positions around the outpost, The Sniper had found his way on a narrow, treacherous road while trying to find an overlook position.
He had tripped on some lose rocks and fell down a nasty 40 feet, the fall had knocked him unconscious and dislocated his left shoulder. After awaking, he tried to find his way back to the squad. However after a while, he realized that he was no longer in Afghanistan. The star constellations where completely unrecognizable, and the moon looked three times larger than normal. As well as the terrain completely changing from Desert Mountains to forest hill sides.
Finally after two days of walking in endless swamp, almost getting killed by the deadly alien woodland inhabitants, popping his arm back into place, he had come to set up camp just on the tree line of the forest.
After another day, he had come to find the strange creatures that he called Ponies. He was amazed at their fairy tale attributes, some had wings like a Pegasus, and others were unicorns. He observed them for some time and learning their language.
It was surprisingly similar to English, but it had an odd mix of Latin words thrown into it. Luckily for him, he had taken a Latin course in collage, and adapting to the language was relativity easy. He had listened in on random conversations that some of the town’s folk had as they walked a close by trail, basically that’s how he was able to pick up on the language.
The Sniper had come to find a certain six mares quite curious, they always seemed to be the center of attention. Whenever a strange or major event happened in the town, they were there. He had decided to watch them closely, maybe if he had to come in contact with the population, he would go to them first, due to their amazing ability to handle crazy situations.
On the other hand he doubts he would need to interfere with them, besides he was a Recon Sniper. Even if push comes to shove, and he would have to interact with them, how would they react? Would they be hostile? Or friendly? He couldn’t take that risk. So he decided to stay put.
Observe and report only, no exceptions. The Army leaves that job to Civy relation officers.
Gazing back at the town, he could see civilians milling about and going on with their day. He moved the gun slightly, looking for a particular spot in the center square. Finally, he found it. A small shop stand, just about 500 meters out. Working the stand, was an orange earth pony. She wore a Stetson hat and had a tied blond mane. The Sniper didn’t know her name, but he found an interest with her.
Every three days or so, from eight’ o clock in the morning to three thirty pm, she sets up shop. However, within that time frame, a blue rainbow mane pegasus stops by for a few minutes and chats with her.
Seeing this pattern, his skilled instincts told him to keep an eye on those two, after all, the training he went through had taught him that any repeating behavior in targets usually means suspicious activity. However, this city had virtually no crime going on with in it. On other scouting missions, He would usually see petty theft or even a murder being committed, but not here. It was strangely….peaceful, if that’s the right word.
The sound of voices startled him from his thoughts,
“Oh Twilight, I would be honored to have my birds preform in the celebration!” a small, excited voice proclaimed.
“Great, I was counting on your birds for the chorus,Fluttershy . Without you, I don’t know where I could get a natural sound for the spring celebration.” Another voice said.
The man slowly sat up while lifting his gun up to his face, resting it on his knee. Without gazing down the scope, he instead looked down at the trail up ahead.
Walking by, was a small in stature, yellow and pink colored pegasus, as well as a purple,
"Alicorn?" He thought
The one he presumed was “Fluttershy” began to talk again,
“Don’t you worry Twilight, Ill train the birds even more than usual, and they’ll sound even better then when they performed at your brother’s wedding.”
His eyes narrowed, he recognized these ponies before. They were a part of that group of six friends that always seemed to be in some sort of adventure.
As the man went to shift his position, his foot slipped, causing a lose rock to fall down the small incline he was perched on. The noise the rock made as it bounced down the hill sounded deathly louder to him than it must have been. The rock hit a bump and jumped up, flying towards the pair and landed directly in front of the girls.
He froze and his breathing stopped as they all stared at the rock like it was the most terrifying thing in the world.
*EEEP!*
Fluttershy jumped up at least six feet in the air and landed on Twilight's back, shuddering in fear.
*sigh*
“It’s just a little rock Flutters, it may have been startling, but it’s nothing to be afraid of, see.”
Twilight kicked the rock slightly to try to show her scared friend it’s was nothing.
“See, its fine. Now can you please get off my back?”
“Oh, yeah...” Fluttershy climbed off her back and smiled at her friend,
“I’ll try not to be so scared" she said sheepishly
"It’s just that were walking so close to the Everfree, there could be all kinds of monsters in there….” She trailed off
"You got that right". He thought back to the time when he first encountered a “Manticore” he had barely escaped with his life.
Fluttershy looked up to the hill next to her, and what she saw, put her into a shuddering, hyperventilating mess.
On the hill, was the silhouette of a large gorilla-like creature, it looked like it was covered in leaves, twigs, grass and other plant material. The thing was sitting up and had some sort of stick-like object resting on its knee. Its face was hairless, it had small nose, as well as tiny beady eyes. However, what scared her the most was the fact that it was staring right back at her too.
The Snipers veins turned to ice when he realized she saw him. He had also come to realize that the sun’s position had changed, and it casted a daunting shadow below him.
The man needed to break up his form.
He put down his gun and pulled up the ghillie suits’ hood, he bent down, going prone and blending In with the foliage around him.
Twilight turned to her friend with a concerned looked,
“What’s wrong? You okay?” she said worryingly
Fluttershy could barely stammer out a word, “M-mm-mon-Monster!” she screeched out
Twilight looked in the direction her friend was staring at. Atop the hill, was nothing but rock, tree and some shrubs. She scanned the area surrounding them, even doing a full 360.
“There’s nothing here Fluttershy, I’m sure you just saw a bush or something that LOOKED like a monster. Come on lets go back to the library, I bet Spike’s wondering where we are.”
“It-it just disappeared! I swear I saw something Twilight.” Fluttershy exclaimed, but her argument fell on deaf ears.
“Listen, even if it was a monster, it probably would have attack us anyway, now let’s get going.” Said Twilight as she began to walk off.
As the pair started to walk off into the distance, the man came up from his prone position and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. A close encounter like that could have blown his cover, not to mention his entire operation. Hopefully next time he’ll be better aware of his surroundings, he couldn’t have something like this happen again.
Sighing, he produced a packet of cigarettes, lit up, and sat against a tree next to him. Taking a long drag of his stick, he leaned his head against it, letting the smooth feel of nicotine flood his brain and calm his nerves.
The next day was relatively uneventful, The sniper woke up, ate some deer jerky he had made when he shoot a buck last Friday, (he didn’t want to burn through his MRE supplies too fast) did some light morning work-outs, then set up for another day of monitoring the town.
Though before he went back to his usual surveillance, he opened his rucksack and rummaged though it for a moment. Finally he produced a small black booklet, it had weathered black leather cover and a red silk reading tab. Stamped into the leather, was a faint impression of a Catholic cross.
Now he wasn’t a very religious or spiritual man, but his grandfather had given the tiny book as a parting gift. Right before he died, he told the man that some of the proverbs within the book are noble and have meaning and purpose that he could use later on in life.
The man smiled as his fingers traversed the weathered leather of the book, he then cracked it open to a random page and read,
"Sometimes acting upon the unknown will lead to misfortune, and the shroud of the ambiguous will withhold the truth"
Proverb, year 1908.
Closing the book, he put it back in its place in the backpack. Though it was out of sight, the contents of the book where not out of mind. Laying down, he grabbed his gun, straightened the bi-pod, and rested the side of his face on the stock as he gazed down the scope,
Nothing very significant happened within the time frame he was watching, ponies where working and going about their day, like always. However, one thing did catch his attention, during the period where the Apple-pony and Blue pegasus talked, an unfamiliar pony was making their way through the crowd to the two friends, the new arrival was wearing a over coat, covering their cutie mark from identification, as well as the coat. They wore a shroud that covered half of their face. At his angle, he couldn’t get a clear view of the stranger.
His hand twitched as he instantly trained his cross hairs on the pony. He/she was only about six meters away from the pair. His breath slowed, his heartbeat progressively reduced to a steady, solid, pace as The Marksman’s body prepared for a potential kill shot. He counted down the distance the pony traveled to the friends.
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
Finally, the pony arrived and began to strike up conversation with the two. By judging the expressions on their face, they seemed at ease with the stranger. Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean they could be a potential threat.
After a minuet, the pony pulled down their cloak and reveled a purple styled up mane that virtually sparkled in the light. He then breathed a sigh of relief as he remember the stranger was actually a part of that group of six friends. In fact, he believed her name was Rarity, he had overheard her name being said when others were talking about it while walking down the trail. Apparently, she is famous around here for being the village's “Rising Fashion Icon”, or so he heard. The sniper had seen her walking to her boutique, which wasn’t far away from the outskirts of town.
He moved away from the scope lens and went to take a swig of canteen, his dry lips only meet air and dust as he tried to drink form his emptied canteen.
“Well shit” he thought.
The sniper got up from his position and took a quick stretch, he had to come up with a way for finding water. Pondering the thought, he then remembered that there was a stream nearby, He saw it when he went hunting for that buck. The trip would be relatively quick, and he only needed one canteen filled as well as his CamelBak water container. After formulating his plan, he picked up his rifle and his water pack, strapping it on to his back. Before he departed, he checked his rifle for any malfunctions caused by dirt or abnormalities.
His weapon was a Russian designed, and Polish made SVD Dragunov sniper rifle.
He had chosen this weapon due to its uncanny ability to be highly durable and versatile in combat situations. When he was younger He had used with the original version of the SVD when he went hunting with his father and grandfather. Though his gun was a modern version of the classic, it was considerable lighter due to space-age composite material and metals.
He had been trained to operate other weapon systems, but he found the SVD to be the most comfortable to work with, as well as it having a stronger punch and higher accuracy. But then again, that was his own opinion and experience with the weapon.
Turning around, he plot out his course and set off for the creek his memory had promised him.
The forest was alive with beauty, he was just outside the dark and damp swamp that was deeper into the forest, where barely no light shines due to the heavy canopy. However, where he was trekking was a scenic, temperate, pine forest. It was slightly hilly and had a few large boulders that jutted out here and there, but otherwise it was almost like a walk in the park.
He walked for a little longer, taking in the surrounds around him, it was partly silent and the forest had no noise, the only exception was the songs of birds. As he came around a bend in a game trail, he started to hear the rush of flowing water not too far ahead. Excited, he picked up his pace and started a light jog, he came to a hill top and slid down the side, kicking up dirt and moss as he cruised down.
At the bottom of the hill, the sniper brushed himself off and looked up, in front of him, was a deer.
The doe was staring straight at him with what looked like…an expression of fear? If it was even possible.
From behind the doe, a fawn appeared, who looked equally terrified as it caught sight of him.
“M-MONSTER! Mom, that’s the monster that took Dad!” A small, excitedly terrified voice screeched from the muzzle of the fawn.
The doe looked down at her child, her voice was in a panicked, sharp whisper,
“Maple, run!”
In a flash, both mother and child sprinted off in the opposite direction of the man, they soon left him standing there, with his mouth agape and his mind reeling from the encounter.
“Did those deer just speak?!” He cried internally.
Shaking his head, he tried to push out the thoughts of the deer from his mind. In addition to that, he thought about his actions and how he potentially murdered, skinned, and ate a sentient being that had a family
With heavy thoughts bumming his mood, he re-started this trek and continued on to the creek.
Finally, he reached the creek.
He took the canteen off his belt hook and un-capped it, kneeling down, he placed the container in the crystal clear water, letting the currant fill it up. Before it was even full, he took it out of the water and brought it up to is dry, crack lips. The flow of ice cold (what he premised was) glacier water gave him heavenly relief to his desert of a mouth. The liquid flowed down his parched throat and revitalizing his body, he physically felt a thousand times better then when he first started this journey. Until now, he had not realized how dehydrated he really was. He took another long swig of the liquid, the man had to pace himself, or else he could get sick from water intoxication.
He bent down and positioned the canteen back in the water, when he finally got a copious amount in the flask, he hooked it back onto his belt and proceeded to unlatch his Camelbak, open the cap, and refill the sack.
GWRRRRRRRR
A low, abrasively rough growl sounded from behind him, his heart stopped as he froze, his body unable to move in primal fear as her heard the sound of a growling K-9 not even 6 feet away.
With The sniper senses coming back to him, slowly reached for his side arm holster on his chest, or more specially, where his Glock 36 rested. In one swift motion, he pulled his gun from the holster and spun around on one knee, he aimed his weapon at the mythical sight in front of him.
What lay between his sights was what looked like a wolf that was completely made of branches, sticks and twigs. Its eyes glowed a ghostly green and its mouth held rows of nasty barbed twigs and wicked sharp branch-teeth. The creature barked at him with ferocity, it seemed the primal snarl had called three more of these things, and more literally came out of the “wood work”.
The branches of the trees bent and broke off, falling to the forest floor while being pulled by a green mist that materialized out of thin air. The twigs and other wooded items where manipulated by the mist until another fully formed wolf was created. This happened two more times, and each faster than he thought possible. And in no time, he was staring at four, very angry, and very hungry wolves.
He slowly started to back up as they advanced, he only stopped when his boot hit the water’s edge of the creek.
At this moment where he had a split second to think weather or not to fight or run, do or die.
He pointed his gun at the closest wolf and shot a 45. Caliber bullet straight though the face of the creature. The bullet snapped multiple branches in its body, bounced off its spine, and logged in its shoulder.
The thing didn’t even seem fazed.
This is when he became truly afraid. He decided do what the doe he saw earlier do,
Run.
He turned tail and dashed away from the wolves, who where soon in hot pursuit.
His footsteps echoed thought the forest as he ran away from the sound of the hell hounds that were currently chasing him. His breathing was rapid and irregular, he started to run up a hill next to him, slipping the whole way as he scrambled up it. Finally he reached the crest, but slipped the instant he got to the top. In a flash, the dogs where on him, they seemed to have teleported though the trees. Their green ghost mist jumping from branch to branch and eventually reforming in front of him, all four of the beasts.
His eyes widened as he stared into the face of his own death. In a sudden, divine moment of realization, his hands scrambled for the tactical tomahawk strapped to his belt loop. He ripped it out of its harness and swiped at the closest wolf.
The blade of the tomahawk connected with its head and lodged in its wooden skull, he then twisted his wrist and snapped its head clean off. A wave of magical fog came rushing out of its neck, causing the reaming body to fall apart harmlessly. The rest of the wolves then slowly back up growling as they witnessed their quarry take out one of their own.
The sniper smiled and laughed crazily as he took control of the situation. He cursed and taunted the wolves, one of them lunged at him, he took a side step and swung his blade into the spine of the creature. Its back exploding into splinters as he placed his boot on it and kick down, effectively tearing it in two.
The reaming wolfs continued to back pedal as he started to advance, they barked and snarled at him savagely. Out of nowhere, their ears slayed back as their tails tucked in behind them. In a sudden motion, they did a complete 180 and ran back down the hill, whimpering.
The sniper smiled at his victory, but he his smirk soon faded has he felt the warm, putrid breath of an animal breathing down his neck. It was so close to him, he could feel the heat radiation off the creature. He quickly spun around to see the huge maw of a Manticore directly in front of him.
"GRAAAAAW!"
The monster roared as it lunged forward, outstretching its claws and raising its scorpion tail, ready to strike. The sniper took a side step and dodged its initial attack, unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to dodge a right hook swipe the Manticore threw. The claw connected with the side of his face, splitting open the scalp and causing a deep, three claw gash’s to pour blood from the side of his face.
He screamed in pain as he reeled back. Holding his wound, he angrily swung his weapon at the beast, the blade caught the Manticore on the snout lodging it a few inches deep. It wailed in anger and agony as its nose bone was crushed and split open by the spiked end of the tomahawk. Blinded by rage, it began wildly jabbing its poison tipped barb at its opponent.
The tail sunk in the dirt multiple times as the brute tried to locate its prey. The sniper screamed a warrior’s battle cry and took a final swing its tail, the blade snapped though the exoskeleton like it was nothing, successfully cutting the toxic spike off the tail. Acidic venom sprayed everywhere, the man must have unknowingly hit the poison sack within the tail.
Again, the Manticore howled in pain. It staggered back a few feet, this gave the Sniper a few precious seconds to retaliate.
He had to end this now,
pulling out his Glock, he haphazardly took aim and began to empty his entire magazine into the face of the Manticore. The sickly sound of bullets slamming into its head resonated almost as loud as the gun shots itself. Within nine seconds, his gun had unloaded every piece of ammunition with in it, it signaled this with a click.
He shakily lowered his weapon, his shoulders slumped and his lungs let out a distressed huff of air. Holstering his gun, he slowly turned around and began steady walk back to (where he presumed) was his camp. He didn’t even take three steps until he dropped to his knees and fell to the floor, exhausted, weak from blood loss, and a massive head ache from the creeping dehydration.
The world around him was a swimming color of grays, blacks and deep shades of red. His vision faded in and out as blinked, catching sights of the forest around him the moment he fell down,
Blink
He could see the time of day had changed, it was now sunset.
Blink
The sun had finally set, and the woods around him was plunged in darkness, for a second, he thought he could hear...hoofsteps?
Blink
A cloaked figure stood over him, its eyes where shining yellow as it stared at him.
He could fell himself being moved around.
Blink
He was in motion, more specifically, he was in some sort of cart or wagon.
Blink
His visions had now started to fade in and out, he looked at the figure who was pulling the cart he was in. Before he fully blacked out, he caught a glimpse of a black and white striped pattern on the coat of the stranger.
The sniper’s eyes fluttered open, reveling his surroundings to him as he slowly looked around. From what he could tell, he was in some sort of a hut, it wasn’t very roomy, but it did have a feeling of warm comfort. On the walls of the hut, where multiple African tribal masks, as well as bottles and flasks that hung around the room randomly. In the middle of the shack, was a big witch’s cauldron that was bubbling with a bluish, purple liquid. Looking down at himself. He was still in his uniform, only the ghillie suit was missing, he was laying down on a bed or couch. He tried to sit up, but a ferocious stab of pain traveled from one side of his head to the other, he winced in pain as he brought a hand up to his head. He couldn’t tell whether or not the pain was from dehydration, or that Super Saiyan Manticore punch he endured earlier.
When his hand meet the side of his head, he could feel a damp cloth on the wound. The bandage wrapped all the way around his head, but only widened at the injury. Putting his hand down, he looked around the room for his Glock and Tomahawk. At last, he found it, both weapons where sitting in the corner on the other side of the room. He tried to get up to retrieve the items, but the horrid pain in his head came back, and he was forced to sit back down.
“That wound won’t mend if you get up my friend.” A voice that talked in rhyme sounded out from across the room.
The man turned his head to see a zebra pushing her way through a beaded door way. She walked towards him, holding a bowl of some kind of dark green, yellow fluid. As she came closer, the man slight shifted backward, this action elicited a response from the zebra,
“Do not fret my house guest, be at rest.”
He raised an eye brow as she continued to talk,
“You may wonder why you’re in this position, I shall tell you while I treat your condition.” She put the bowl on a night stand that was nearby, all while she pulled a small flask of dried plant bits from a shelf. She then proceeded to uncork the glass with her mouth and shake a small amount of the material into the bowl. Almost immediately, the color of the liquid changed from the dark green color he had saw earlier, to a light sea foam green. He watch in curiosity as she performed this task, when she was done, the zebra pulled a wooden spoon literally out of nowhere and placed it in the soup. She stirred it slightly for a while until she scooped it up and pulled out a liberal amount of liquid on the spoon.
“Here you go, you must drink this tonic, the results will show.”
She shoved the spoon into his face, the aroma of the soup was sickly sweet. He made face and moved away from the spoon like a child refusing medicine. The zebra furrowed her brow,
“You need to heal, drink it, I promise, the better you’ll feel.”
The man scowled at this, but eventually obliged, he took the spoon in his mouth and drank down the medicinal drink. It tasted like honey mixed with hot peppers, now it wasn’t unpleasant, it just was an unusual combination of flavors that really shouldn’t be together. He his face grimaced at the taste, he shook his head and swallowed hard, trying to get the flavor out of his mouth.
She chuckled at his actions,
“I have never seen a sight like you, maybe there are still things I can discover anew.”
He huffed at her comment,
“I’ve haven’t seen something like YOU before either.” He said
She smiled and raised an eyebrow, “Then we are one and the same.”
“Yeah, sure.” He said
The Zebra snickered, her eyes wondered to his chest, her gaze found his name tag that was sown onto his uniform.
“If I am precise, your name is O’Ghranson, is that right?”
He nodded his head, and her smiled returned to her,
“My name is Zecora.”
He looked at her questioningly
“No rhyme that time?” he chuckled slightly from his jab at her.
“To rhyme with one’s name, misfortune will come, this is a practice my people have shunned”
He gazed out the window and pondered her words for a moment. Then a question interrupted his thoughts, he should have asked this earlier,
“How did you find me?”
“Well” she responded,
“I was out searching for some herbs, when I heard loud bangs, which scared the birds.”
He sat up a bit and cocked his head, listening closer to her tale.
“When I went to explore, I had found you, lying unconscious on the floor.”
“So I brought you back to my dwelling, and now here are, listening to the story I’m telling.”
The answer he got wasn’t in full detail, but then again, who would really want to tell a detailed story while rhyming at the same time. It’s just WAY to tedious.
holding his hand up to his face, his fingers once again slithered across the rough surface of the bandage. He looked back at Zecroa, she was holding his black book in her hooves while she flipped through the pages, only stopping to briefly read some of the proverbs.
"Very wise words I see, is this something you often read?"
the man paused to lick his chapped lips,
"Yeah, It's a gift from a relative, I read it when I need a moral boost or guidance."
Closing the book, she set it down on the night stand next to him. Zecora got up and began to make her way back to the kitchen. she stopped and looked at a some-what modern clock on the wall, which seemed out of place in the hut of hers.
"It is twelve at best, now go to bed, you need your rest."
she walked back into the kitchen,disappearing from sight.
"Did she just tell me to good to bed? what am I five?"
Only then the Sniper had realized how exhausted he was, he laid his head back and began to close his eyes.The sweet relief of sleep overtook his form as he began a long, uninterrupted slumber.
Zecora removed her hooves from the flower in a pot,she brushed the dirt off her hooves and smiled at the plant. The herb was one of her prized herbal plants. She had gotten up at her usual time, seven o' clock. After making breakfast for herself, cleaning/tiding up her kitchen, and tending to her plants, she decided to cook up a natural pain killer for her guest. Speaking of him, she went into the main chamber of the tree hut to check up on him.
Her eyes widened at the sight of an empty couch, the covers where thrown off, showing someone had left the temporary bed. Boot prints led out of the hut and into the forest. Looking around, she saw that the guest's belongings and gear was missing.
he eyes shifted to the night stand where she spotted a small piece of parchment laying next to an empty medicine bowl. making her way to the couch, she picked up the note and read the only two words on the sheet.
Thank you
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I like it, I DAMAND MORE!
Shit I ment demand more fukken phone
Its a mag.
SVD's are for gun skrubs.
Better to go with a bolt-action if you're in any kind of sandy/stuff-that-easily-fucks-up-recievers kind of environment. With a bolty, you can just triggerlock the bolt out, clean it by felating it (
) and stick it back in.
Could have chosen a better gun but still good story
i like this.. one shot one kill
When asked in 1998 how he had become such a good shooter, Häyhä answered "Practice." When asked if he regretted killing so many people, he said, "I only did my duty, and what I was told to do, as well as I could." Simo Häyhä spent his last years
Not a bad story. Could do with a proofread and a few minor fixes, but not bad.
Should be "college"
Should be "minute"
Should be "surroundings"
A few of the errors I noticed after a quick read-through.
I think you're looking for Ghillie suit
I may give this a read. Added to read later.
I personally like snipers a lot, like a LOT, so I'll wait until I've seen how well it updates. See you then
You're joking, right?
media.tumblr.com/2a4bbe98b63180cc837f520a354aea6c/tumblr_inline_mjtx8yIg7n1qz4rgp.gif
Nevermind. This entire story emanates shitty fanfiction anyway.
Good story, needs a bit more work put in to proof reading (which I'd be happy to do) just to fix some of the spelling errors. Also the character seems pretty good, keep up the good work.
my only complaints are Ghillie suit not guile suit and the rifle he is using. US military doesnt issue the SVD. if he is a Force Recon sniper then he would probably be using one of these
SR-25
M40A6
M82A3
M39EMR
and the Beretta M9 handgun that is used by the military.
I realize most people wouldnt pick up on this but it bugs me and detracts from the story for me.
Wait, he still has his guns after leaving Zecora's hut, right?
4357921
>297 views
>13 comments
>67 upboats
>this story made the feature section
4357929
It's not unusual for special forces to be issued non-standard and even enemy gear.
4357929
The M9 is not the only handgun used by the military. I recommend you check your fact source.
4358435
4358436
True, BUT they wouldn't replace a snipers rifle. Hell they are tuned specifically for the shooter, so swapping to something else ruins years of fine tuning and knowing everything about the rifle.
Not to mention the SVD/PSL is a DMR. Completely different class of weapon.
A few other things I noted:
1. Where was OC's spotter? Snipers are *never* on their own.
2. Why is the guy glassing Ponyville through his scope at 50m? That is downright silly.
3. If the guy was watching from a regular place, he'd have built a hide already.
4. Which would have saved his butt against fluttershy.
5. No trained soldier carries smokes into combat anymore. It is why chew is so common, as with modern NODs you can see a cherry for miles. Good way to get shot.
4358589
I've tried to tell people that about similar weapons, but no one ever listens.
----
I had assumed that he was trained with multiple sniper rifles/DMRs, just in case.
4358614 They are, but it is very rare to actually swap out weapons like that. Designated marksmen can do it more often, but it is still fairly rare and they keep their primary on hand.
I'll have to see if I can dig up the TM for battlefield drops/pickups. Can't remember exactly what it says about this.
Every time I post a military fic, people always fight in the comments
Well, I guess its kinda my fault, sorry
Try to not make new paragraphs while someone is speaking. Only when they're delivering a long winded lecture should a quote be broken up. Pretty cool story other than that one peeve. Please continue.
One of the few good HIE's
4358640
There are support groups for this kind of thing.
4358589 I will try to sort out your confusion by answer your list of questions in hope of a better understanding,
1:where is the OC's spotter? The spotter and the sniper where separated while he was on the mountain path*sorry if I didn't specify*
2: why is he glassing Ponyville at 50m? I may have made an error in writing when putting 50m instead of 500m
4: no solider carries cigarets anymore: I know this fact, I just thought that adding smokes would add a little "touch" to the stress of the situation
Hopefully you can now understand
Just so you know, it's spelled ghillie suit, not guile suit
Aye, I am thoroughly surprised that a story written with so many mistakes makes it so popular? I have to check every forsaken word, before I post.
But bloody good anyways. Keep it up M8
As several others have posted, this needs a little work in the spelling/grammar department. Other than that, I thought the story was good so far. One complaint I have other than the spelling/grammar (I'm kind of a grammar nazi) is that the sniper's spotter was not mentioned in the story. In order to get this information, I had to read the comments. If you could edit the reason for the spotter's absence into the story that would be appreciated.
Also, please keep writing this. I want to see where it goes.
Dude, you should totally have done a South Park satire with this.
Tagline: "After the terrorists failed to destroy our imaginations, they went after our little ponies. One man will make the arduous treck over the Rainbow Bridge to stand in their way!"
Of course, then the hero would have to be Solid Snake.
I love that song
4360580 why not me?
Interesting, Ill keep an eye on it
So far, this isn't that bad.
I reasoning to this belief being that the writer's very precise with most spelling and grammar, the story is cool in my opinion and the chapters are long and descriptive.
Keep it up sir.
I'm not good with weapon but i think a glock 36 have 6 bullet in mag. It a really small weapon. He must have shoot really slowly if it took nine secs to shoot 6/7 bullets.
Still good sorry!
I'll have you all know that when I was in the service that we did in fact carry cigarets into battle, I have seen a svd as a sniper , and Fallujah is in Iraq not Afghanistan wich no one has yet whined about.
4356522 many don't know the difference yet good sir
it must spread faster though
4360960
cdn.firearmstalk.com/forums/attachments/f30/32368d1314664696-how-hot-sun-clip-clipmag.jpg
i.imgur.com/hOwV3.jpg
DJFTW, I'm out of ammo! Hand me another cheese stick!!!
need more......
Next chapter plz this is good
Pretty good. I'll definitely tag along. One question though, and please do correct me, but since when does a glock shoot a .45?
4361363 They make Glock pistols in everything from .380 to .45 in a hundred different configurations.
4361363
Glocks come in like 7 different calibers, including two different versions on .45.
4360882 (not being a smartass) but what unit were you with when you were there? A have a few friends who rotated through there and the assorted fobs around there and Baghdad.
And I never caught the story was starting in Iraq. Must have missed reading that lol
This seems interesting!
More American bias that they are the best in the world.
I like it
4358237
>Implying the featured box isn't constantly being filled with smut and shitty fanfiction
>Implying it isn't that way because plebeians who wouldn't know trash from an actually good story keep it filled with that shit
The featured section doesn't run on quality. It runs on popularity.
An army of simpletons can do more a whole lot more than a couple of geniuses when it all comes down to blows.
It's an interesting story, but to be honest, I only skimmed through it. The main reason, being all the errors. No capitalization at points, misspelling, messed up punctuation marks. You really should think about finding an editor. That, or re-read your work, before putting it up. Other than that, I'd like to see this continue, you have my interest.
Are you done fapping to the United States Military, or do we have to read more about how super-special-snowflake you are?
4362089
Are you finished being a dick?
Why do you keep reading things you know you'l hate?
4361988
>implying