• Published 30th Oct 2019
  • 400 Views, 33 Comments

Fallout Equestria ABC: Dangers of the Wasteland - Doomande



Surviving in the Wasteland is as easy as ABC... or is it?

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O is for Organs, which black markets have no need to ban

The black market. Dark, dangerous, and extremely profitable if you know what rakes in the dough. Guns, valuable tech, the occasional slave, and organs.

Organs… The hardest to get out of them all, in my opinion anyways. You have to find a healthy pony, seduce or trick them into coming into your shop, keep them alive till you can find a buyer who won't wimp out on you, and then cut them up. Plus, they often ask me to put it inside of them as well! Do I look like I do this stuff for free!?

But in the end, it's all worth it. I'm getting quadruple, quintuple digits in my accounts for all of the efforts they put me through. Enough to practically buy the west side trottingham!

But I can't. Too much, and questions will start to follow. "And there's enough of those floating around already. Isn't there, miss Goldfinch?"

Grinning, I turn to look at my latest donor. She's alive, barely, but I still need one last, itty, bitty, thing from her. "You know what they say darling, I take ponies breathe away! Well, I hope they do. I don't spend all this time looking good for fun y'know?"

She can't hear me, but that's alright, she'll be listening to a new tune somewhere below. "SHINK! Ah~~, just like that darling... Nice and easy… Plop!"

Grinning, I look at my masterpiece. Two plump lungs, ready to be taken to their new owners. I grab the cooler and place the two beauties in and close it.

"Y'know, I really should thank you. You make my life so much easier! Just sitting there, crying instead of thrashing about like some of the others~! Made me save the morphine for a more useful moment. Maybe the new mare a couple of houses down… She looked like a real kicker..."

Jolting out of my thoughts, I pick up the cooler and place it next to the door. Just got to wash up, and then we'll be all set.

Taking a second to check once more that the lungs were secure, I make my way to the washroom.

------

Pale, gloomy, and a somewhat mysterious looking unicorn. I like to think I look that way, charming enough to drag in both stallions and mares alike. Too bad most of the ones I do bag say I look like I could use pity lay.

I don't mind. I truly don't, it just means that it's more enjoyable for me. Simply getting them to follow me will do.

"Clink, Ah~, there we go. No more blood stains." Grinning into the mirror, I grin. My reflections mirrors me, albeit with a cruel light in its eyes. Am I cruel…? Maybe.

"No, just giving others a chance at a better life. For science, some others would say. But… Am I wrong in what I do?"

The reflection, astonishingly, doesn't answer. It never does. I wish it could though, would mean the world to me.

Whatever, I've got a delivery to make.

--------

Closing the door, I make my way to the exit of the apartment complex. Trotting through it reminds me of the things I do for a living, spilt blood there, a little hacked up lung in a corner next to some cigarette butts, and of course, the usual druggie attempting to get some cash for dash.

"~H-Heeeyyyy~! Got any extra bits I can b-cragh!-orrow?"

Scoffing, I deadpan, "No."

And as usual, they tried to take it by force. Grappling on me, feeling for my saddle bags, until I give them my speciality, a scalpel to the side. Enough for most, but it wasn't working today.

Too bad. The gashes I left him wheezing on the floor with is enough for him. Too bad he was a druggie, he could've been quite a profit if he wasn't.

--------

The rest of the trip was normal, as usual. The park was merely a couple of blocks away. Not a difficult walk, but a bit tiring for my gaunt frame.

The usual spot, under a pair of cedars, staring in the direction of the capital. This spot… It may be an unusual spot to do a black market deal, but it holds some semblance to me. It almost makes me feel... Good? No, content.

Never good. Good was not something that I often feel. But when I do, it's from a successful year. I haven't had one of those in a while. Bruised up from deals gone wrong or with a wired explosive to ensure I don't slack off on the surgeries that those idiots keep taking.


Rustling behind me alerts me to my client. "It was apple pie right?"

No. It was supposed to be no. "Why, yes darling! I do hope that applejack sent her best, no?"

Blood froze in my veins as I heard that voice. I look over my shoulder to see the worst sight in years. The leader of the ministry of image.

How-why-no, WHEN!?

There's no way she could've heard of me in the past weeks, I was too careful! Was it one of my clients!? Wait… Goldfinch. She talked about working for one of the ministries. I thought she meant the ministry of peace… They're the ones who usually deal in this area, trying to help those damn druggies!

Grinning, she looks down at me, "What? Something wrong darling? It's almost like you swallowed your tongue! Or did you perhaps cut it out?"

She knows. "H-how many?"

Raising a brow, she chuckles, "How many what?"

Swallowing my fear, I mutter, "Snipers, assassins, hired killers, whatever would be necessary to get rid of me."

Her laughter sent chills down my spine. "How cute! You're terrified of dying? You should've known long ago that this is what would happen if we found out about all of your deals."

Nodding, I can't help but agree. I've had a dead man's switch placed in me for a while now. It's wired to send all of my belongings, and a video of how I died, to a close friend of mine. I merely just ask one last thing of her, just a dying wish, "Care to make it quick? I don't like the idea of taking time to bleed out."

More laughter, "No, I think we're gonna have karma for you darling. Say, I hear a couple of Twilights scientists need organ donors after their last experiment went wrong… Let's phone them together darling, show them who is going to save their lives"

Wincing, I feel something lance my neck, "But I'm afraid you look rather tired, let's get you 'home', shall we?"

Panicking, I reach for my scalpel, and raked it forward… Only to find it not there. She had it. I'm good as dead without my only tool.

Closing my eyes, I fall asleep for the last time in a while.

----------

When I finally do come to, I am mostly gone. My insides were open, and all I had left besides my heart was my beating lungs. "Darling~! Guess who came to say thank you~?"

Opening my crusted over eyes, I see them. Scientists and soldiers alike, all staring in horrified fascination. And Rarity. She had a look of just utter smugness. "Why don't you say your welcome to these wonderful ponies? After this last transplant, I'm afraid you're no longer breath taking as usual… That was your last job wasn't it? Those lungs… Poor miss Goldfinch… She worked for me, did you know that darling? She was supposed to keep an eye on you! Then she got sucked in… Said you were too… What was it? Ah, yes. breath-taking, was it? Well… The irony wasn't lost on me."

The silence was crushing. Then a clattering from… Somewhere, and I was out.

----------

I was alive. Somehow.

Looking around, I could see several monitors doing their jobs, a few drawings, and a couple of… baskets? "Click."

Jolting my eyes to the door, I panic. Rarity. The one who killed, er, almost killed me. The forced smile was on, practiced nearly to perfection, but betrayed by the absolute look of hatred in her eyes, "Daaarling~! You're… Awake."

And at that moment, another figure entered the room. Butter yellow with a soft pink manes, it was near impossible to mistake her, "O-oh dear… Are you alright?"

Ho-, no, that's obvious. She's the head of the ministry of peace. She's most likely has every medical device in history within her reach. The question is, "W-why?"

The look she holds doesn't exactly spark… Kindness like her pictures do. It holds a more calculated look. "W-well, when I heard about all the organ transplants Twilights scientists were in need of, I looked into getting donors.But-but, when I get back in contact, I find out a whole bunch have found donors. So I l-look into who were the donors… And I found you, mister flatline."

Flat line? That isn't-, "I kn-now what you're thinking, but after the whole… Organ dealing business, we needed a new name for you. It isn't inconspicuous, b-but it's an obvious name for your… new occupation."

New? Before I can get a say in, she quietly says, "N-now that I convinced Rarity to let me take ahold of your case, I can get you started in your new profession… I-if y-you don't mind."

Pulling myself up, I look around to see my options. Simply say no, and there'll be a shovel in my hands with a note telling me to dig my grave. The obvious choice was already laid out for me, "S-suuure, but do you mind kissing my as-Cragh!"

The sheets were speckled with blood as I tasted copper. "O-OH! Oh no, no, no! I knew we shouldn't have woken you so soon!"

Monitors blared and beeped, and I was gone as the world spiralled out of control with my simple sarcastic comment still stuck on my tongue.

—————

Angered yelling. Can't get enough of it. It's the first thing I've heard in a while. It's all hazy sounding, like it's coming through a speaker or something.

Light.

Screaming.

Pain.

So.

Much.

PAIN.

I can feel nothing but pain. And then… A face. A concerned face. One guess to who it was. "Oh my gosh… Are you okay mr. Flatline?"

"No."

Something was wrong. Very wrong. "O-oh. I guess you can already tell, huh?"

Her pitying face was anything but comforting. It was a look I've seen before. A look of concern for a project. You wouldn't die if it broke, but it was a Celestia damned shame if it did. "W-well, no need to s-suspend this. We c-couldn't save your body completely. So… We made do."

Looking at a few of the more reflective monitoring screens told me enough. "I'm a brain in a jar."

Nodding as if I were a foal who had just gotten the correct answer to the riddle, she continued, "Well, now that you're… up and running, we can get you started on your first assi-"

"No."

The shock on her face was almost sweet enough to taste, "W-what?"

"You heard me. No."

She was getting upset now. "I have spent all of this time on just getting you out of dying, a-and you don't want to e-even consider working for me!?"

I blink in disbelief. Or I try to anyway. "Why did you even consider me working for you? I got my organs taken out and my brain put into a jar. I've been reduced to nothing. Tartarus, I've turned into the things I work with on a daily basis!"

"..."

"Shut me down. Terminate me. Kill me. I don't want this. I wanted to either die or continue my work, never…. Whatever you were going to have me do. So… Pull the plug."

Her face contorted. Mortified. Saddened. Shock. And finally. A mixture of anger and… Regret. She looked over her side and nodded.

Going out as just a brain. Never thought I'd die via my own line of work. Well… Maybe once.

The tank was draining. I had a few seconds left, and as I always said, "Make your last breath count, cause we don't know what's at the end of the road."

And I made them count, "Also, it's dutiful scalpel. Remember that... when you... put... it on... my… grave… you… bi… tch..."

"Clunk"

Author's Note:

By ShadowmancerElite