Half-Hoof: a Resonant Hope

by Alfoals Trottenbauer

VII - Ghost town

Ace stood at the entrance of the town. Night had fallen. Corpses of ponies puppeteered by the creatures from Black Forest gurgled liquified organs as they roamed the streets. The smell of rotting flesh filled the misty air. The town was a shadow of what it was. This had used to be his home.

Four of the corpses took a shuffling trot to him. Their torsos were ripped open, the organs visible. They moaned with despair as they neared.

The one that was closest to Ace looked weak. The body was that of one of his friends. It had a pink coat. Her tail was filled with holes. Her Cutie mark was of three balloons.

Ace knew he had failed her already. He could only lay her body to rest. He hesitantly aimed his gun and fired into the alien nesting on her head. The mane was matted from the creature's parasitism.

The rest continued to approach slowly toward him. He shot the other three who had taken notice.

In the distance screeches as if nightmares bounced off the walls of buildings. Silhouettes jumped across the rooftops.

Ace trotted into the hellish ruins, once the flourishing city and his hometown.

Jet-black, finned canisters were wedged into the ground.

He continued down the path. Most of the corpses had fallen from undernourishment.

A corpse stood out from the rest. it's back arched low, covered by black parasites. It was larger in proportion to the rest. It saw him and trotted toward him slower than the rest moved. It roared and a parasite jumped off of it's back. The creature sailed toward Ace and latched onto his helmet.

Ace tried pulling it off with magic. No use. He dropped his gun completely, struggling with his hooves to pull it off. He levitated his gun and fired it above his helmet, where it was. The parasite fell backwards off. By this time, the corpse had gotten extremely close to him. It swung a gnarled, clawed hoof at Ace's chest. The hit left scratch marks on the plated armor. Ace fired his Submachine gun directly into it's body. The deceased pony fell over.

A filly faced away from him next to a schoolhouse, the corpses seemed to avoid her. Ace took a few steps forward toward the young pony.

It turned.

The filly was long dead. The front was bare muscle and tendon, the coat barely hung on in the back. It screeched as it dove toward him. Ace jumped with surprise and fired into it's body. It fell as it's frail body was weak. The parasite that fell was lean. It attempted a jump toward Ace but fell short in front of him. Ace crushed it underhoof.

A canister lodged inside the schoolhouse caused the front wall to crumble a bit, the door creaked open.

Dead colts and fillies poured out from the building, some host to more aliens, others laid out on the floor.

The young ponies must have gone in there to hide from the shelling, only to either die by their friends or starve.

Ace walked past them, their unsteady gait slow with weakness. A corpse with no skin tackled him to the ground. Noxious rot and infection dripped from it's mouth as it screamed in his face. It clawed at his suit with mangled hooves of bone and tendon. Ace bucked it off him, the body falling on it's back. Ace shot it in the head.

As a dead world's sun rose, the streets grew more calm, the dead drew away into alleys and abandoned buildings. Ace walked as the last thing alive to pass through the town. A dead stallion with a more ornate blue suit lay on the ground, a shotgun beside him. Ace levitated it with his horn and walked toward the exit.