The First Unicorn on Earth

by Baileyjrob

July 6, 2015

Dear Journal,

Today is July 6th. For many this date means nothing. It's simply two days after American Independence Day. To me, however, it means much more. Today is my mother's birthday. She'd be turning 56 today. She gave birth to me when she was very young: at the young age of 25. I miss my mom. I called her on my phone, and miraculously it went through. Someone must be screwing with the cell towers, or the satellites, or whatever this thing goes to. Obviously she didn't pick up, but I left a message. The message is as follows:

"Hey mom,

I guess you're... dead or something. Gone is the best I can hope for. Maybe you're in some sort of universe, looking for me? Well, today is your birthday. Happy 56th! I miss you a lot mom. I hope wherever you are, dad is with you to make this a bit easier. Maybe even Sam too. I'm sorry I can't make it, but I think you probably understand.

I'm too focused on survival and people, but I can only hope someone out there is trying to reverse all this. If they do, I'll be the first to tell you 'happy birthday.' I'll have one hell of a story to tell you.

On the off chance that you can hear me, happy birthday mom. I love you."

I really miss her. You don't know what you've got until it's gone. Now everything's gone.

---

I've decided to investigate the source of the fireworks last night. Many of them were fireworks, but some were flares. I don't know why that's important, I just thought I'd put it down on paper I guess. Walking the streets to get to where I saw it coming from, it's not hard to notice how much of a ghost town Dallas has become. Parked cars litter the street sides, broken glass from windows spread around the base of buildings. Certain weak or high maintenance structures have crumbled, some completely falling down. Out of everything that's changed, the dogs worry me the most.

They've gone beyond just packs at this point. They've begun to mark territory, and not just by peeing either. They patrol borders, stick together in a way that makes me think. They look more like a tribe than a pack, and now I'm forced to face the truth: these dogs are becoming intelligent. Like human intelligent. They're not quite there yet, not even close. They're making headway though, and they're not slowing down; if anything they're speeding up. I tried to pass through a building as a shortcut, and ran into a pack. They growled at me, and a put a hoof in the air and slowly backed up. Once I was about halfway across the street, they stopped growling and just looked at me, before resuming whatever it was they were doing. They understood territory, and retreat. They had created their own little borders. Needless to say I took the long way around.

I walked up a winding hill to a radio tower. This was my first guess as to where the source of the fireworks is as it fits the general direction they came from. This place looks pretty dilapidated on the outside, at least as much as can happen in this span of time. However, curiously enough places like the door and antenna are fairly well kept. Someone's here, or has been here. I'm writing outsi

ok, just calm do.

---

I'm in quite the predicament now, aren't I? While I was writing, someone snuck up behind me and put a gun to my head. She told me to stay where I was and don't turn around. She had an air of confidence and intelligence the entire time. I tried to ask he what she was doing, and she simply said "a test" and began prodding me along. She threw me in to an empty room, and that's when I saw her. It was a young... filly, I believe it's called? She looked to be about Jamie's age, but she didn't sound or act like it. She would be surprisingly dignified and intelligent for my age, but for a 13 year old, it's downright terrifying. She almost closed the door before throwing in my journal. She told me to write whatever I felt like. I asked her name, and she told me. She was Martha.

The genius who set up the radio, stole my journal and almost killed me in the process, has been watching me for over a month... she's a small child. I've seen everything now. She closed the door and locked it, trapping me in. She took my saddlebag with me, so no gun. Oh right, speaking of that she managed to modify her gun so that she could fire it. She was like Jamie: no horn or wing. I didn't get that good of a look at her, as it was dark.

I just hope Jamie's alright.

–Leon

Comments

[Ascent-Express]

Interesting. I was trying to figure out a way for ponies to use firearms in my own story, but without some serious modification to the weapon (which is not possible without a machine-shop) I couldn't think of anything. Maybe you could tell me how she did it? It would make it easier for me to explain it in my own story if you could.

[Twilight_the_spy]

6116405
I would think that you would just have to make a shoulder mount, and some type of lever. Since ponies should be able to walk on 3 legs, have one leg pull the lever back that is attached to the firing mechanism.

[Baileyjrob]

6116405 Leon didn't get a good view (It was pointed at the back of his head after all) but when he does I'll go into explanation, so worry not.

[Baileyjrob]

6115663 Alicorn is also the name of the unicorn's horn. It's both.