In Bello Praesidium

by Jean De Basse - Woolie

Chapter Three: Death Before Dishonor

"Ah yes, the 'Siege of New Stonebridge'...all the academies and amateur historians pour their hearts and souls into praising Cadet-Commander King's 'King's Guard' formation. The way it moved as it quickly overtook the fort, the strategic brilliance of using bagpipes to cripple the morale within the mercenary ranks, the elite vanguard of skirmishers sent to weaken the defenders...the most intricate military operation ever performed as if the official story was put together after the fact. Makes you think, doesn't it?

But this is for the record right? To be official? I don't think there was any strategy on that day. I don't mean to insult them...Celestia that'd get on the wife's nerves right quick, bless her soul...but from the way she told me; there wasn't any real organization to it. That all the stories of planning and strategy are just that: stories. History is already filled with myths, why is modern history any different. The way she told it one moment, they were just standing there...waiting to get away from the cold... then the next...

When it happened though was chaos, an utter, maddening rush to get inside. She wasn't sure what triggered it, well, everypony knows what -triggered- the charge...but the anger. She was mad, furious...but it all felt so repressed, she swore to the day she died that she thought it was the spell that made them so brutal. Made them all anxious as a hive of hornets. I believe it was just the nerves though, then again 'a cadet shall never lie, cheat, or steal; nor tolerate those who do'. Her word was better than mine...Luna bless her rest, I hope she's at peace."

-Recording taken from an interview with Flora Fossil, Professor at Stalliongrad College of the Pony Arts

CHAPTER THREE: DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

Fido was surprised, if not completely shaken. When Sardonyx had told him of the ritual, he had expected maybe a few dozen warriors to arrive. Instead, moving just over the hill to their front was a wide line of nearly a thousand of the two-legged creatures! They all dressed alike; gray coats and hats, each adorned with bits of metal that the sun glared obnoxiously off of. They moved in a tight formation, his ears flicking as he caught the beat of their war drums. Multiple banners flew in front of their horde: a white one adorned with an odd sigil, one lined with stripes and stars, and what seemed to be a dozen tiny red ones.

Sardonyx had not summoned a tribe, but an army!

Standing on the top of the wall, the diamond dog kept his eyes locked at the advancing force. He squinted hard as he tried to make them out in greater detail. His boys around him attempted to do the same, the coming humans dragging everyone from their post. All points of the castle were abandoned as they flocked to huddle and squeeze against the front of the parapet. Each one intent on stealing looks at their boss' work while neglecting their own.

"What are you all looking at? You seen army before! Fought one too! Get bac-" Fido stopped his yelling at the mercenaries as they continued to swarm around him with abandon. He'd beat some sense into them later, but it was no use wrecking his voice over this now. Snorting a bit, he shoved and pushed his way through the crowd as he made for the stairs. He had to tell Sardonyx; if the boss didn't see them, he must've heard their advance. The drums were loud and the shrill cry of some terrible instrument plucked annoyingly at Fido's ears.

Moving towards the door to the castle, Sardonyx flew into him. The crippled pony managing to hobble faster than Fido had ever seen him run. An ecstatic, almost frightening look replaced the broken defeat that had hurt him a few hours ago. He smiled a bit as his boss started to stammer and bounce on his hooves with the same excitement he had when he'd first hired Fido and his band.

"You saw them yes? The text didn't say how magnificent they'd be! Bipedal too! A-and those staffs they're carrying! Maybe they're spears; perhaps they're wizards! Fido...Fido, Fido, Fido! This is it! It all starts here, my loyal compatriot; our triumph!"

Chuckling as he watched his boss twirl around like a pup; Fido knew the news wasn't all good. Trying to reign in his boss' enthusiasm he let a paw fell to rest on the back of the pony's neck, "Boss; we got army yeah...but the featherhead is still running around here...and that book said you summoning a tribe of warriors."

Blinking once, Fido felt his smile fade away back into his usual stiffness, "Those not warriors...look like soldiers; got pretty flags too. Someone else's soldiers...not yours, not yet."

"I-...yes, yes you're right...thank you Fido." Deflating a bit, Sardonyx seemed to put himself back together quickly. Fido still noticed that his boss wasn't sad. Even though his childish smile had left him, he stood tall and proud. He posed himself as he was meant to be, their leader; even if he needed help some times.

"Tell me; your ears are better than mine...what is that dreadful sound? It sounds like a screeching banshee is being burned alive," rumbled out Sardonyx as he moved away from Fido. He hobbled towards the gates and motioned for the dog to follow him.

"Your army seems to have interesting taste in music...hope they fight better than make noise, eh?"

---

DuPont was required, as all cadets were, to learn about the Battle of Bushong Farm his first year. It was a relatively small battle in the Shenandoah Valley during the Civil War, but a unique one for his Institute. After marching over eighty miles in a span of three days, over two-hundred fifty SBMI cadets engaged Union forces. They were key as they turned the tide of the fight to a rebel victory at Bushong Farm. It was the first and only time a US college's student body had fought as a whole unit and won. Regardless of how he felt about the Confederacy and the 'Antebellum' pride that seemed to choke the deeper parts of the South, DuPont did feel a great deal of pride for his school.

Now, after marching a much less impressive distance with a much more impressive sized corps of cadets, he stood before fort a little over a quarter mile away. He couldn't help but think back to the Bushong Cadets. They'd marched just to act as a reserve unit, and they weren't expecting a fight. By the end of the day, over fifty of them were wounded, and ten had died.

"Nearly a quarter of the Corps was a causality..." said DuPont as a chill raced down his spine.

The drums faded and the pipes halted their cry as King ordered the guidons to raise their colors before falling to rest. The call for a halt echoed down the long column as sergeants barked out the order to their platoons. DuPont took a deep breath as he tilted his head towards King. The towering Regimental Commander offered him a wide grin before tipping his cover to the Regimental Executive Officer, "Miss Jackson, arrange the corps into a triple line facing the fort. First Battalion in the front with Colors, Band in the middle with Staff, and Second Battalion in the rear...we 'ought to look professional to our observers."

Stepping away from the other members of the staff, King waved a hand at DuPont, "We're going to move up and see if the door is open to us. Take some of your guys from Delta as an escort...maybe a squad, not gonna need a platoon. You've got five minutes."

Nodding his head at King, DuPont nearly twisted his ankle in the snow as he spun around. The corps was in a sea of chaos as the RXO, and other officers guided the companies into King's formation. The cadets were, of course, grumbling under their breath: a mix of curses, joking, and general complaints replaced the worried whispers that had started the march. DuPont was personally surprised that no one had shot themselves in the foot during the whole effort.

Moving back to Delta as the company took the far right-flank in the first line, DuPont offered his lieutenants a smile as they huddled around him.

"We're going to be the first ones in. King said we're to take a squad up with him as escort to the fort. We're going to knock and see if anyone's home...other then that the rest of the corp is on stand-by. Once we're cleared to advance, I'll send the squad back as runners. Any questions?"

The lieutenants, all first classmen like him were mostly silent. They'd been relaying messages and using runners the entire march at his discretion to help the RCO, and they'd kept their ears pretty close to the ground. They always seemed to have a good understanding of what was going on. They were sharp like that, and DuPont loved them for it. The silence was broken by his XO Brown as he raised his palm, "What happens if they don't let us in...we've got maybe a few hours until it gets dark. Maybe we can make it through one night. By then though everyone's gonna be restless, cold, and angry...we won't be able to hold any sort of discipline for a second night."

Brown made a good point, that's why he found it so hard to answer. It was glaringly obvious, and something of a loaded question but DuPont could read between the lines well enough.

"There's twelve-hundred of us. About one-thousand of us are armed with loaded rifles, another hundred with sabers, and the rest with various blunt musical objects. If the people there really don't want to let us in...well, we're not going to spend the night out here in the cold. I promise you that," said DuPont as he nodded at Brown.

"Get me Corporal Marshal's group...have them report up here ASAP," said Brown as he shuffled away.

---

It was imposing to him: the fort. Its walls seemed to tower over them the closer they got. Cantwell knew, in reality, they were perhaps just over a dozen feet tall and crumbled from seemingly centuries of decay. The stone and rotting wood sent a shiver crawling down his spine. Or perhaps that was just the occupants eyeing them.

He'd noticed it about halfway into their advance. There was movement along the walls and a few narrow plums of smoke from fires. DuPont had told them to expect that there might be a single occupant, but more and more seemed to be straining over the stonework to stare at their small squad as they approached. A wedge formation carried them forward, the weapon in his hands feeling lighter as Cantwell found small satisfaction in being center-stage near the tip alongside King.

Turning his head a bit, Cantwell eyed his RCO. He'd never spoken a word to him. He had no reason to really. He was a fourth classman, and King was a first classman. Not to mention he was the cadet in command of the whole corps, that was a rather significant factor in that too. Cantwell found it particularly surprising that King caught him staring and then spoke to him using his name,

"Cantwell, I'm going to ask you a very important question...is something wrong with their faces?"

Blinking once as King threw up a fist to signal an immediate halt, Cantwell canted his head up to look at the features of the fort's occupiers.

Or lack of normal features.

Cantwell swore at first he must've been seeing things when a dog wearing a suit of armor stuck its snout over the wall before barking out orders in English to the other partially armored things on the parapet. Round, horse-like faces, squeezed against Zebra-things, other dog-monsters, and beaked birdmen. It was real though. They couldn't be more than thirty meters away, sitting on top of the wall whispering hushed words to each other with the occasional jeer leaping out of the crowd.

'They're like hornless minatours.'

'Nice sticks they got; wonder how long they'll last against a mage.'

'They look like hairless apes!'

Finding his voice returning, Cantwell nodded his head at King; "Yes sir...you're...ah...I'm seeing what you're seeing. And I'm assuming...that I'm hearing what you're hearing."

Cantwell heard DuPont next, his CO breaking from his place on the far end of the wedge and moving up towards King. Flashing a glance at Cantwell, the man tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down to Marshal. Shuffling down the line to DuPont's former spot as the doors to the fort swung open. Cantwell found himself standing next to his friend as a three-legged, black coated, unicorn managed to strut out in-front of towering dog-creature.

"Well...we've become the envy of every six-year-old girl John...it seems we've come across a unicorn," said Marshal as he let out a short chuckle. Smirking a bit, Cantwell found himself joining his friend in smiling in-spite of a death glare being shot by DuPont at them. A snort escaped King, then a chuckle, before he fell into a shallow laugh. The sheer absurdity broke their bearing. Even DuPont joined the rest of the squad after a shake of his head as they laughed themselves silly.

A somewhat stunned unicorn standing a few feet away with an inquisitive arch in his brow being the punchline.

"I was expecting more of awe; perhaps even a formal greeting," said the unicorn as it spoke to its taller companion, the dog offering a muffled grunt as it shrugged its shoulders. The unicorn's words seemed to quiet most of them, though the dog's shrug sent another short chuckle through Marshal.

Cantwell cringed as the unicorn stared at King, the horse smiling a bit too wide to be comfortable with. The dog seemed to be content sizing them up as the unicorn seemed intent to examine each one of them as if they were on an auction block. Pointing a hoof at King, the creature hummed out to him, "I was worried you all got lost! Let's get down to business, shall we? I'm Sardonyx...obviously you aren't who I intended to summon, but you're certainly an improvement! This can still work...we should get started immediately."

Scratching the back of his neck, Cantwell couldn't help but feel another shiver creep down the back of his neck. A mythical creature was speaking perfect English to them about 'summoning' and what he assumed to be magic, but perhaps the devil was in the other details. The fort was decrepit. No flags were flying from it, its occupants didn't look uniform at all, and it reminded him of bandit-lair in a book more than anything else.

"Send us back," said King in a voice Cantwell thought was colder than the mountain itself. The unicorn froze, the observers on the fort's walls falling silent as the winds whipped around them. King crossed his massive arms moving to tower over the unicorn, his voice rising to an angry shout as he chewed out the creature.

"You brought us here...now you're going to send us back!"

"No," said Sardonyx as he craned his neck as best he could to offer King a troubling frown, "The spell only works one way! Besides, you have a greater purpose! Riches and glory await us! Wh-"

The unicorn was cut off as King moved a hand to withdraw the slender saber from his belt. The slim sword drawing itself to point its tip towards the neck of the pony. Cantwell heard the chaos erupt around him; he raised his rifle up to point towards the wall as the others followed. The wall pointed back: bows, crossbows, and a few ominous glows dotted the fortification as they returned the threat to the cadets with equal vigor.

"No riches, no glory...the Institute doesn't make mercenaries," growled King, the commander edging his sword closer towards the unicorn with small steps. The weight of Cantwell's rifle became heavier in his hands and shook as he watched the standoff. His eyes flicked from a few of the natives on the wall to his other cadets; the rest of the squad was switching their weapons back and forth threatening as many targets as they could.

"But apparently it makes fools. There's no way out! I'm not asking you to submit and serve...I treat my people well, I only need your soldiers for my revolution," said Sardonyx as he wore a calm, practiced smile. The unicorn's horn glowing as an aura wrapped around the edge of King's sword to nudge it away.

A magic horse tells you there's no way home.

No way back.

Offers you thinly veiled chains with a smile.

Even after what followed, Cantwell would've done the same thing King did.

He would've tried stabbing that slimy creature in its goddamned head too.

---

Aloisia had escaped the catacombs of the crumbling fort to catch sight of the small band of creatures advancing. Her exit was widely ignored as every mercenary seemed intent to watch their new found allies march up towards to the gates instead of searching for her. The griffon's heart sank into her gut as she managed to sneak up the wall. The army a few hundred meters away from the fortress sending a shudder through her.

The High-King had to be warned, the Vogels must be assembled.

Stalking away from the wall's edge, she crept towards the base of a wooden watchtower built atop the fortifications. She could still complete her original mission before the worst. She could still deliver some semblance of justice. If she got a vantage point, she could make her next move, or even get a clear dive on Sardonyx if he pokes his head out.

"It would mean death...but he can't escape to harm anyone else," she whispered to herself as she scampered up the ladder's rungs. Intruding on her vantage point was a stout diamond dog cradling a crossbow, the thick mutt keeping his eyes focused on the commotion below as the strange creatures stood just outside the gate. His ears flicked as they seemed intent on straining to listen too, ignoring Aloisia's growl as she crept up behind him.

A quick jab buried her blade to its hilt in the dog's head. The mercenary's body collapsing backward limp. Smirking a bit, Aloisia leaned over to liberate the heavy weapon from the corpse as she knelt down to peak her head over the watchtower's edge. It was a better view, and now she could clearly see them.

Six creatures in total, all dressed in the same dark grey coats and caps wielding barreled-spears. Their leader was already engaged in conversation with Sardonyx and his mutt Fido. Feeling the weight of the crossbow in her hands, she hesitated. She could make a shot. Maybe she'd get one or two bolts off before one of the mercenary's mages would just ignite the tower to flush her out. Then she'd just be picked off by other archers, or worse: captured again.

This was her chance though.

She was torn from her thoughts as the mercenaries let out worried cries. The sounds of weapons rising and armor shifting had her take another glance over the watchtower's edge. The creature's leader had pulled a sword on Sardonyx, it was holding the blade to the unicorn's throat!

Sardonyx seemed to try calming the creature, a smile plastered on his face as his magic wrapped around the tip of the sword pushing it from his neck. That damned, slimy smile. Rising from the guard tower, Aloisia leveled the weapon at him. Death or not, she would take that unicorn with her.

An anger shout rose from the creature, the leader of the band swing his sword high as he boomed out in a voice that would rival the old Equestrian royalty,

"Death before dishonor!"

Flinging himself at Sardonyx; the unicorn jumped back as he wrapped the creature's arm in his magic twisting it at a disgusting angle. The crack was as audible as the arm wrapped around itself and drove its blade into the stomach of its master. The creature's companions were staring with looks of shock and horror as their friend managed to take a step forward, his lips moving in a curse before he fell to his knees, head slumped down.

Aloisia froze and hesitated. Silence fell over them all like a massive wave before the other creatures gave their response. The ends of their clubs had leveled at the unicorn before Fido lunged to cover his boss with his hulking form.

CRACK!

A chunk of Fido's shoulder ruptured as its armor was torn asunder from an impact. Another shot followed as a piece of his forearm scattered into the snow, and his body was riddled with craters from a shower of metal shrieking into his armored form. Whatever plating the mercenary had broke under the hailstorm as he collapsed into an ugly bleeding mess.

An orange coated mare cried out from the fortifications as she leaned over the parapet, the mercenaries silent as they seemed frozen by the death of their commander; "Fido!"

It was then that the creatures were reminded of the other mercenaries, other targets. Their weapons were twisting away from the dog as they released another series of shrieks from their spears. The wall around the mare chipped away with small bursts of stone as their bolts slammed into it before one found their mark in the pony's chest; throwing her out of sight. The creatures stood together as they fired against the fort, intent to keep the whole of the mercenaries at bay.

The shock seemed to fade from the mercenaries as they replied with a stream of arrows, bolts, and magic. A creature was cut down as arrows dug into him. Another was caught in a blast of fire, the stench of burning wool and flesh filling the air as a lingering sting of sulfur hung under it. Aloisia's face scrunched up in disgust before she turned towards the distracted mercenaries and fired the crossbow, a bolt whizzing down into the crowd to bury itself in the head of the unicorn. She might as well contribute.

Ducking back into cover as an arrow brushed the feathers on the top of her head, a swell of drums and the piercing cry of dying animals echoed towards the fort. Peaking her eyes up just for a moment she caught sight of the grey mass in the distance losing whatever formation it had as it rolled towards the fort in an angry wave. The cry of some terrible instrument the only audible sound over the rage of the charging force.

The vanguard of the creatures had huddled into a staggered line. Another two had fallen before they found a small creek-bed to hide down in to trade fire with the fort. A losing battle as one of the creatures found its head separated from its shoulders as a Zebra conjured a lightning blast towards their cover.

Offering justice to the being, she finished reloading the crossbow and returned the favor to the Zebra. The mage falling off the wall with a bolt buried into his side. The body landing just before a brave group of mercenaries as they dashed from a collapsed wall towards Fido's body. Cursing quickly, Aloisia loaded another bolt that shot wide as he tried to cut away one of the mercenaries as they rolled the dead diamond dog off Sardonyx. At least one of the creatures in the creek-bed had the same idea as her, one of their bolts separated a leg from one of the mercenaries helping the Saddle Arabian up.

Sardonyx turned his horn as telekinetic hold grabbed the creature from the bed and yanked him like a ragdoll into the wall with an audible crack. He hobbled over the walls into the fort as the grey wave of monsters began to close around them. The cry of their horns nearly shattered Aloisia's ears as a chorus of shrieks pelted the fort. The mass influx of soldiers cut down the mercenaries still raining fire onto the survivors in the creekbed as they surged forward. Part of her cover splintered around her as they directed a few shots at her, ducking her head down she knelt low. Catching the sight of Sardonyx reaching the doors of his keep, she growled.

Moving down next to the dead dog she shared the tower with, she tore the blade from its skull and dove over the edge. Soaring over the mercenaries as their lieutenants rallied them to the walls she chased Sardonyx's shadow as he slipped away into the fort's keep. He wouldn't get away, not now.

Not again.

---

Ammo. Bullets. Magazines.

Cantwell needed more ammo, more bullets, more magazines.

Tapping DuPont on the shoulder, he scampered out of cover as a few bullets whizzed past his side with DuPont offering what covering fire he could. Moving towards Marshal, Cantwell dove onto his stomach as an arrow buried itself into his friend's side. George met the blow into his charred side with a glassy stare, unmoving as he remained burned into a rigid fetal position. The stench of wet wool and burning flesh hitting Cantwell as he rolled his friend over, yanking at his cartridge box before he managed to tear it off.

"John...John...help me...help me..."

Cantwell kept moving. The voice wasn't real. Marshal wasn't talking. He wasn't able to speak, he only screamed when he died. Only screamed, not talked. Rolling the corpse back over, the charred skin of his friend remained frozen in terror. His screams were still audible in the back of Cantwell's mind as he fought Marshal over his rifle, his hands locked around the stock before a spastic twist tore the weapon away from the deceased corporal.

Running back towards creek-bed, Cadet Stanard flew over his head as the unicorn threw him into the fort's wall with a sound of a melon hitting the pavement. Diving beside DuPont, he handed him Marshal's cartridge box and rifle. His CO offered him a cold stare as he gestured towards his forehead.

Running his hand along his head, Cantwell managed to smear rifle grease on his face. No, not grease. Marshal. Blinking once, Cantwell let out a slow chuckle, DuPont joining him as they stared at it each other with horrified expressions. The world around them was an insane joke.

A big, stupid, chaotic joke.

The cry of bagpipes ended their laughter, Cantwell keeling over as he lost the contents of his stomach. Trying to grab handfuls of his snow to rub away his friend as the corps raced up behind them. DuPont grabbed Cantwell's dyke straps and pulled him up over the top as the gray sea moved around them;

"Com'on! Do that when we're done!"

Managing to find his step, DuPont peeled over into the wave of cadets as the Stars and Stripes passed him. Jackson waved her saber around madly as she charged with the colors at the head of the horde. Cantwell swore on his life he saw her slice an arrow out of the air, but the adrenaline beating his heart demanded his attention elsewhere.

Joining his voice with the others, he screamed as he charged with a clump of cadets as they tore their way towards one of the breaches in the wall. Others broke off and scampered up the sides of the fort as a few joined the RXO in throwing their bodies against the wooden gate. The aging doors gave way easily to the mass of bodies. The cadets poured in across the fortifications as they cut down anything that in their path with blasts from their rifles.

Crossing over the top of the wall, Cantwell swiveled around to catch sight of a dog-monster charging him. His gun no longer felt as heavy as he discharged three rounds into the beast's form.

One in the chest.

Two in the chest.

And another to the chest for Marshal.

Dashing away from the body he passed a beast engaged in melee with a cadet that had discarded his rifle. The horse-creature showing more skill as he lunged the short sword into the cadet's neck using his teeth. Cantwell moved to join two others as they surrounded the victorious horse and loaded a few rounds into him before proceeding deeper into the chaos.

Bayonets fixed and rage fueling them, they tore into all they could find. A minotaur was pinned by a trio cadets with bayonets as an officer hacked away at the creature with his parade saber. The short bayonets only slowed the muscular beast down as it swung a powerful arm to knock them all back. Another bayonet surprised him at the base of his back, a cadet letting out her yell as she crippled the creature. The minotaur was swarmed by the others as they stabbed him relentlessly until his body stopped twitching.

A Zebra tossed a glass jug like a grenade into a clump of cadets that erupted into a wave of fire, Cantwell to stared in horror as they burned. He felt the warmth of fire against the skin of his face as they fell into the snow screaming. The beast launching himself at another group before he was cut down in a hail of vengeful bullets. A hand grabbed Cantwell on his shoulder and shook him; "We're winning! Keep pushing! Run 'em down!"

The RXO shoved him away and deeper into the fray.

Shots rang out around him as they cleared out the courtyard and opposite walls. Bolts, arrows, and magic took them down before bullets and iron drove the defenders further back.

The defenders cried whenever one of theirs fell, and the cadets roared when one of them died. The bullets tore away limbs and shrieks of pain filled the sound of gunfire didn't reach. Magic swatted cadets like insects against walls and blades hacked away at bodies. Throughout it all, the sound of the bagpipes persisted. Their shrill cry circling the fort as the bleak sound of a marching song filled the void empty of the combat around them.

The fighting died out as they pushed the defenders into the corner, a pausing lingering in the air as the monster's weapons clattered to the ground. Rifle fire fell away as the cadets still poured over the walls, the creatures in the courtyard watched the cadets surround them with horror. Those capable of raising their hands above their heads did as others bowed their heads low enough to scrape against the dirt. They had been left alone, abandoned as the rest had either fled or retreated into the bowels of the fort's keep behind them.

It was too sudden; it was over. They'd won.

The creatures waited in the corner. A dozen or so that didn't flee holding their wounded, staring wide-eyed at the horror of the battle that had broken them. The RXO was giving them all some speech, about the 'Institute's pride' and the day in history that had been 'earned.' It was all white noise to Cantwell, just noise.

"John...John...save me..."

Moving towards the creatures as the RXO's speech end was met with a deafening silence, she moved only the cries of the wounded and crackling fires started by the conflict. Even the pipes had stopped, they were all just waiting. Waiting for something. Cantwell stared at the creatures; they were alien, but there was intelligence to them. They spoke English too, Cantwell had heard that black unicorn; he could hear the soft whimpers of their wounded too.

"John...John...save me..."

He still heard Marshal's cries though, the screams. He had heard Stanard being crushed against the wall. He had heard the arrows hit his friends, the blades cut them down, and the fires burn them alive. He had heard King's dying breath, damning the beasts all to hell. As far as Cantwell was concerned that was an order now.

The silence around them all was finally broken as Cantwell lowered his weapon and began to empty his magazine. It wasn't a fresh one. He fired only about ten rounds into the creatures before he felt the 'click' of his rifle. He wasn't alone though. He'd made the decision for them, those who could join him did so as the cadets around him let out an cheer as they mowed them down.

The cheers died away as the rifle fire and creatures did, the RXO waving her saber around the colors as they all began to spread out around the fort. Collecting their wounded and putting down the monsters still clinging to life. More white noise filled the air around him as everyone went about their tasks, soft prayers were spoken, and idle chatter hummed around him. A hand on his shoulder turned him around to face DuPont as his CO stared down at him, "John...you with me? I still need you in this, alright? Head with the group going to clear out the keep; you hear me? I need you awake Cantwell."

DuPont snapped his fingers at him as John felt a nightmare melt away. His weapon massive in his hands and his legs weak in the snow; the smell of the sour air hitting him as staggered and tasted the bile erupting from the back of his throat.

Offering a quick nod to DuPont's shoes after he finished vomiting he jogged over mutilated bodies towards the small group assembling at the base of the fort's keep. Casting a glance to the corner where others were dumping the bodies of the creatures, he didn't hear Marshal's screams anymore. He didn't hear his voice. He didn't hear anything.

He only heard the soft whimpers of the creatures before the rifle fire took them away.

Author's Note:

Yeah...it's a bit of a tone shift. It's ugly, dirty, and nasty.

Comments

[Jean De Basse - Woolie]

Chapter 3 is live! First chapter with a non-latin title too, you'll find it fitting though.

[grievousrommel]

I'll freely admit that I didn't think much of the story when it first appeared. Now that it's more developed....eh what the hell. I'll stay for the ride.

[FinalFan]

Leave none alive!

Who the fuck issues this order