The U.S Recon sniper, one of the most deadly and stealthy forces of nature on the planet. However, when one of these shadow warriors ends up in Equestria, how will he be able to adapted to his new environment, or even be able to prevent a disaster.
The U.S Recon sniper, one of the most deadly and stealthy forces of nature on the planet. However, when one of these shadow warriors ends up in Equestria, how will he be able to adapt and survive in a new environment fulled with ponies, monsters, and even a splinter cell group of terrorist plotting an attack on Equestria. All while lurking in the shadows and becoming a lethal phantom. Only he is capable of stopping the extremists plan to cause utter chaos.
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.
Bright beams of sunlight penetrated the thick, dark canopy of the forest, causing splotches of light to shine down and spool in small areas on the forest floor. A tall figure cloaked in a bushy, straw-like mantle stepped out of the darkness and into the light of a sun beam, he brought a hand up to the brush hood and pushed it off his head, reviling shimmering green eyes and uncut, messy hair that showed a lack of maintenance. His face held a stoic emotion of watchful vigilance as his eyes scanned the forest ahead, looking for any dangers or threats. He adjusted his hand into a more comfortable position on the grip of his gun, he sighed as he stood there. It had been about an hour since he left Zacora's hut, and he had been thinking weather it was a wise decision to leave the Zebra's care.
Considering he was injured, hadn't changed the gauze on his head and body or clean the wounds. However, he had felt significantly better than he did last night, he though his current condition might be due to the strange potion that the zebra gave to him, which probably made the wounds heal faster and subside the pain. But nonetheless, he still felt achy and had trouble moving his head without receiving a stabbing head ache from the Manticore wound. Thankfully, the medicine had dulled the pain enough for him to get up and trek out and into the forest.
He lifted his back pack's strap farther up his shoulder and huffed a wisp of air, he began to walk forward and continued his long walk back to his camp. However,
The Sniper absolutely had no clue where he was.
He had never been this far into the woods before and hadn't seen any familiar land marks that he associated with the normal area he usually traversed around.
"Zecora must have really brought me far out here." he thought to himself as he climbed over some boulders.
As he reached the other side of the rocks, he observed a large hill about 100 meters out. Setting his course, he began to head for the hill in hopes of getting a vantage point, one in which he can get his bearings.
Once atop the hill, The Sniper was able to see in almost every direction out to the horizon. The hill looked larger than it did at a distance, but this fact benefited the man, if the hill would have been shorter, the view would not have been as extensive as it was. His eyes scanned the treetops, looking for a familiar little town. At last, he spotted Ponyville's town hall tower, the large structure was but a faint speck that just slightly jutted out from the horizon. The man lifted right his arm and pointed it to the sun, which was about half past noon, and was beginning its journey across the sky to meet with the horizon. Knowing the sun was on his right side, he began to move down the hill toward Ponyville, and ultimately, his camp.
He trudged his way through the brush and foliage, even through all the dead leaves and snapping twigs, he tried to stay as silent as possible, hoping to avoid another confrontation with another wild beast.
Unfortunately, mother nature has different plans for the Sniper.
A low, throaty, growl erupted from behind the man as he quickly turned around to see a large, rooster-snake creature emerge from the vegetation,
"SKWWWAAARK!!"
The creature flared its wings and flapped threateningly, the man backed up slightly, the moment tense as the creature glared at him with piercing luminescent eyes.
He felt a strange, overpowering urge to stare back at the rooster snake.
The creature started to inch closer to its prey, the Sniper continued to stare blankly at the beast, but only when he felt a tingling sensation in his legs he looked away, and at his feet. His boots where being to turn to solid stone as the creature got closer, he saw the rock creep up his boots and over his ankle. He panicked and withdrew his sidearm, he looked back at the creature and tried to aim down his sights, but as soon as he did, he fell back into its trance. The man gritted his teeth as he felt the stone creep up his thigh, inching closer to his waist. It took all of his will power to move his hand to his magazine pouch, open it, and take out a mag.
The creeping stone was now inches away from his waist.
He released the empty mag out of his Glock and it clattered to the ground with a thud. The sound of the mag distracted the beast for a short moment, this narrow window of time gave the man his focus back and allowed him to shove the new magazine into the gun. He pointed it at the creature, it looked back at him with anger as it saw its prey out of its trance, its eyes began to light up.
BANG!
However, this action was quickly ended due to a single 45. round zipping through the creatures head and erupting from the back of its skull in a gory, visceral mess. The moment the creature hit the ground dead, the Sniper could feel the stone slowly turn back to flesh from the inside out. Soon enough, he could feel his legs and feet again and he flexed his leg, pieces of stone crumbled and fell of his uniform as he moved his body. He walked over to the dead beast, drew his leg back and kicked the creature with steaming anger as its body flew into the air and back into the brush. He turned back and once again continued his journey to the camp.
"Fuck this stupid forest and these fucking creatures." he harshly whispered under his breath.
Once back at camp, he set down his gear and leaned against the tree that overlooked the small incline. He sighed and pulled out his packet of cigarettes and lit up. He briefly reminisced back to when he first sneaked in the pack of cigs from a local market in Afghanistan, he knew that it was dangerous to smoke on the battlefield, but he kept it a secret, and frankly, he had a bad habit anyway.
Lying down against the tree, the Sniper put out his cigarette and dozed off to the sound of crickets and the forest noises.
The Sniper was jolted awake by the sound of laughing men, and the loud screeching of a animal. He quickly got up and grabbed his gun. Sitting on one knee, he swiveled his head around as he tried to pin point the direction of noises, he leaned over the side of the small incline and looked down the path. He could see the small frame of a monkey running down the path toward him, as it got closer, he could see cuts and gashes on the monkeys hide, as well as an arrow sticking out of its left shoulder. He could tell someone was hunting this poor creature as he heard the rambunctious yelling of a group of stallions chasing the small ape.
"THWAK!"
An arrow whizzed by and lodged its self into the monkeys tail, effectually pining it to the ground. It wailed a terrible screech as it tried to scurry away, but its tail not allow it to do so. The man saw the group of 4 stallions gather around the helpless creature, it lashed out at them when one of the ponies got to close. they continued to laugh and make vulgar insults toward the monkey.
"Ha HA! Bucking dumb ape, hey nice shot Slice." one stallion in a red tang-top said.
The pony in the red tang-top wore a three tooth necklace and had half of his mane shaved off, on the shaved side, was a tribal tattoo of one black circle with spike arrows jutting out from the circle.
He had a series of scars running across his face and shoulders, most of the stallions had scars on at least one place on their body. Another pony began to talk,
"Yeah well, what can I say, I'm a professional!" The group began to erupt into a crazy, unsettling laughing fit.
This stallion was a unicorn and had multiple earnings on his right ear, as well as an old, worn khaki vest and a quiver of arrows, he held a crossbow in his magic, He also wore a tattered Boonie atop his head. On his Right shoulder, was the same tattoo as the other stallion. In fact all of the other stallions had the same tattoo, each on a different part of their body.
The other two ponies where wearing black and red shemaghs with aviator glasses. They wore the same vest that the archer had, but in black. The tang-top pony taunted the injured monkey,
"He he, watcha' gonna do? hun? HA!" he got right up to the small prime-ape's face.
It hissed at him and flung out its palm, clawing the stallion in the right eye. The pony screamed and reeled back,
"AAHHH! YOU LITTLE SHIT!" He continued to yell.
"Kill that bucking thing!" He said angrily.
In a flash, the archer loaded an arrow, cocked it back, and fired at the monkey, hitting it square in the heart. It struggled for a few seconds before falling limp, dead. The tang-top stallion began to gleefully stomp and crush the dead monkey under his hooves, seemingly forgetting his injured eye. He smiled while chanting,
"Praise Khaos!"
Over and over again. Soon enough, the rest of the group began to mimic him and dance around the dead animal.
"What kind of crazy, sick fucks are they?" The Sniper reeled back in disgust as he thought to him self.
They stopped with their little ritual and calmed down.
"Ok, ok, funs over, lets get back to base and grab some grub." He said nonchalantly
The group began to walk away from the dead monkey and continued on the path, but they then took a sharp left and walked straight into the woods. Curious, the Sniper shifted in his spot and turned his body to face the direction of "crazies". They were walking deeper and deeper into the forest, eventually, the man could no longer hear their voices and hoof steps. Taking a mental note of where they went off to, he put down his weapon and stretched his achy muscles. Then, out from his stomach, arose a deep gargled growl of hunger. Sighing, he opened his backpack and re-check his supplies, only 2 MREs and a few pieces of deer jerky rested inside of a small compartment where he kept his food.
He scowled at his rations, knowing he would run out of food quicker than he thought. His face then brightened up as he though of the nearby apple orchard which the Orange pony owned. Getting up, he slung his rifle around his back and walked to the edge of the hill's incline, he slid down the side and landed firmly on the dirt path below. He then froze, carefully checking his surrounds for any dangerous animals, or insane stallions. Once he felt everything was safe, he turned right and jogged down the trail, out of the woods and towards Ponyville.
The large, apple tree filled valley of Sweet Apple Acres came into The Snipers view as he jogged down the road. Continuing further, he spotted a large red barn just a few meters away, he crouched and scanned the area looking for any wondering ponies that could spot him. His eyes flickered down the dirt road as the faint noise of an old, wooden cart being driven reached his ears. Thinking quickly, he ran to the side of the road and jumped a wooden fence into the bushes. He looked down the dirt path, waiting for the cart. Soon enough, a red stallion with a large yolk around his neck came trotting into view of the man. The red stallion (as The Sniper expected) was pulling a cart full of apples, he got closer to the man's position in the bushes as he pulled the cart. Then, the stallion snorted and stopped short, he tipped his head upwards and flared his nostrils, sniffing the air. He turned his head and look around suspiciously, then his gaze shifted directly to The Sniper.
The man's heart stopped as he met the stallion's gaze, hoping that he wasn't spotted. They both stared at each other for a moment, one of them completely unaware of the others' existence. The red stallion knitted his eyebrows and then shrugged, he looked away and continued his journey down the road. Breathing a sigh of relief, the man stood up once he was sure the pony had left. He decided to walk deep into the orchard in order to avoid anymore unwanted encounters.
The apples
Oh the amazing apples,
The godlike deliciousness the apples withheld behind their crimson coat baffled the man. The Sniper sat inside a small wooden house he had found whilst walking through the orchards. After picking a fair share of apples, he had stumbled upon this little house nestle in a crook of a tree. The front door was open, which was strange, but he really didn't care, he was hungry as hell and need some sort of shelter while he feasted on his red bounty. The man had already eaten 3 of his 15 apples and was working on his fourth when a distant giggling sounded out from the orchard. Putting down his half eaten apple, he quickly got up and made his way to a nearby window. As he slowly peered out the aperture, he could see a trio of fillies coming his way, straight for the tree house.
"That was AWESOME!" The orange and magenta filly yelled in a tomboyish voice.
"Okay, I guess it was, but I told you not to touch Twilight's blue potion thingy. She already said that it would explode if you shook it, do you ever listen Scootaloo?" The small white unicorn scolded.
"Hey, ah thought it was kinda' cool." Said the yellow filly.
"SEE! Even Applebloom it was awesome! I told you chemistry would get us our cutie mark."
The white filly pointed to Scootaloo's flank,
"You didn't get a chemistry cutie mark, or even one at all for that matter."
"Neither did you Sweetie Belle, nor Applebloom." Scootaloo pouted.
"Hey, ah still think tha' exploshin' was epic, Anywho! Do y'all wanna hang out some more at tha' club house?" Applebloom suggested.
"Sorry Applebloom, I gotta get back to the Boutique to help Rarity with some coat hems."
"I've got flying lesson with Rainbow today." Stated Scootaloo with excitement.
"All right'y then, see y'all guys later!" Applebloom waved to her friends as they walked away and to their respective activities. The yellow filly turned to the club house and began to make her way up the steps of the tree house.
"Shit!" The Sniper thought as he heard the filly's hoofsteps getting closer to the door.
Frantically, he searched for a way out of the club house, finally he found one way to exit the premises without the filly spotting him. The same window he had been observing the girls was his only escape. With the extremely close sound of hoofsteps closing in on him,
he acted on instinct and dove out the window,
And directly onto a rose bush.
"Fuuuuccck..." he groaned internally as the thorns on the plant jabbed at him while he sank further into the shrub. Thankfully, the window didn't have a glass pane on it. it that where the case, he would have had a lotmore problems than just a few thorns in his side.
The filly was in the building just as fast as The Sniper had jumped out and landed in the bush. The moment she walked in, Applebloom saw a brief, blur of movement by the window. Curious, she walked to the windowsill and looked out, trying to see if she could catch what ever caused the movement with her gaze. She stood there, searching for the phantom for a second longer, she then shrugged and walked back inside. She made her way to a small table within the club house and picked up a note pad rest on it. The note pad was for her to record every attempt she and her friends had done at getting cutie marks, this was to ensure they didn't do the same activity twice. While writing down the days events, her eyes shifted to a half eating apple on the floor. She didn't an apple in the club house recently, nor any of her friends. Looking at the apple, she could see that there was odd looking teeth marks within the apple. No pony could have made those indents, the filly then remembered the strange moment blur in the club house when she entered. The theorized that there must have been an animal of some-sort in the tree house eating and apple, and she probably scared it away when she walked in.
Applebloom sighed and face hoofed.
"I should start closing the front door, and get that window some glass..." She trailed off.
She then returned to jotting down on her note pad, seemingly unaware of The Sniper getting out of his thorny tomb and walking away from the club house and into the woods. However she was hopelessly oblivious to the routy and insane group of stallions closing in on the club house.
The man had climbed out of his "Prickly Situation" and brushed him self off. Seeing the sun was close to setting, he checked him self over before heading out for the trail and back to camp.
However, before he was even more than 25 meters away he heard the screams of a certain yellow filly
The loud Scream rattled the Sniper's skull as he stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback at the screech of terror.
He quickly turned to face the direction of the clubhouse he had just departed from. A second later, another louder and even more distressed scream ripped through the air. The Sniper started a dead sprint towards the clubhouse, completely forgetting his other planned daily tasks. His blood rushed in his ears as the yelling got louder as he approached the club house.
As he rounded a grove of apple trees, he came to a small clearing where the club house resided. Outside the clubhouse, four stallions including one zebra were laughing and crowding around little Apple Bloom, the small filly was absolutely terrified, tears streamed down her face as she shook with terror. He turned his attention to the stallions, he instantly recognized the tattoo on each of the four, the same tribal marking he had seen on the other group earlier that day.
The Sniper braced himself against a tree and brought up his weapon, taking aim at the closest stallion to Apple Bloom. However, just as he was about to squeeze off a round, one of the stallions just so happened to look in his direction. The pony stared blankly at him, then squinted at the man as if to see through his faux vegetation cloak. The Sniper swiftly ducked down behind the tree,
"Fuck, I should have just stood still, maybe he didn't see.. He thought as he took a quick peek from behind the tree.
The stallion had drawn a rather large knife and was making his way over to The Sniper's position.
The man whipped his head back to the safety of the tree. SHIT! well fuck, he saw me. he groaned internally.
The Sniper said a quick prayer as he heard the stallions hoof beats approach closer, and closer. The man drew his own blade, an old U.S Marine Ka-Bar combat knife. He had got bought it from a local vendor selling used knifes in Afghanistan, the condition was poor but he fixed it up after getting permission from the officers on base.
"Nah' where is that fucking thin'?" Said the voice of the stallion, who had now reached the tree and was standing directly beside the concealed Sniper, who had not even taken a breath in his stealth.The man could see the shine of the blade that was gripped in his hoof, it was mere inches from his face. Another voice called out from the club house.
"Well fuck it, whatever was there is gone now, get back over here, we got a filly to attend to.." he trailed off into laughter has The Sniper could hear Apple Bloom scream while being dragged on the ground. His heart rate increased as rage boiled deep from within him, he looked up at the stallion who was now smiling at the prospect of attending to the filly.
The sick, maniacal look on his face pushed The Sniper to the tipping point. He jumped up from beside the now-surprised stallion, whose face turned to one of smug anticipation, to one of fear and surprise.
"What the f-!!"
The Sniper grabbed his snout as he sank his knife into the throat of his victim, muffling his cry of pain as blood spilled everywhere, soaking his ghillie and staining his knife red.
"HEY!" One of the stallions yelled as he pulled out a machete and started to sprint to the aid of his fallen comrade as he raised his weapon in the charge. The man raised up the dead gang member as a body shield while the other stallion charged in and chopped down onto his friend's corpse, splitting a huge gouge between his shoulder an head, which effectively broke its neck and sprayed blood everywhere. The Sniper pulled out his side-arm and firmly pressed it against the stallions temple.
His head exploded into a gory mess of blood and viscera as The Sniper pulled the trigger. He pushed off the two corpses and fired a few more rounds into the group, which all of the members had their weapons drawn. One of his bullets hit their mark as one gang member collapsed due to a 45. entered his chest cavity.
Unfortunately for The Sniper, his gun jammed, effectively turning into a $500 hammer, which he used to his advantage as he clubbed the last gang member over the head with it. The zebra however, did not seem to KO so easily, he shook off the blow and slashed back with a wickedly sharp kukri. The slashed just barely missed the man's face as he dodged the savaged slashes. he quickly raised his left arm, catching the zebra's sideways downward chop, he then thrust his blade into the chest of the zebra and dug in.
The zebra coughed, splattered blood into The Sniper's face as the stallion then fell to the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. Withdrawing his knife from the zebra's chest, The Sniper stood in the middle of the carnage, covered in blood from head to toe. hearing a whimper, he turned to his attention to Apple Bloom, who was only a few feet away from him. Her mouth was slightly agape along with her eye being as large a dinner plates.
"Well shit." He simply said, knowing she had seen the whole violent fight.
"You okay?" He asked as he stepped forward and tentatively knelt to her height.
She was startled by this and squirmed away slightly.
Now, the man wasn't good with kids nor had any experience comforting them, but he pushed on, trying to get a response from the filly. She was now cowering on the ground, staring in fear at him. Deciding that trying to talk to her was proving to be a fruitless ambition, he sighed and turned around, beginning to walk away.
"W-wait!"
The Sniper turned to the small pleading voice, The filly had risen from the dirt and was giving the man a look of wonder and thankfulness, contrary to her previous emotions. He looked at her quizzically, patiently awaiting the rest of her response.
"Thank y-you, Ah really mean it." She almost whispered.
The man briefly nodded and once again began walking way until he was interrupted by a small tug on his left pant leg. Looking down, he could see the adorable eyes of the filly.
"Um, if it ain't no trouble, you wanna' have some lunch wit' me?"
The sheer amount of "what the fuck" was clearly present on the mans face, not only did the situation he was in was bizarre, but a filly, after witnessing him shoot, stab and kill some ponies, did the child want to have lunch with him.
"Uhh, sure?"
Apple Bloom gave a sharp gasp of excitement as she began to tug The Sniper back to the club house.
Having no idea why he was agreeing to this, he was reeling at the fact she wants to have lunch with a obviously dangerous being.
"I will never understand kids." He thought as the two made their way through the bodies of the fallen mercenaries.
Chapter four: Meetings, Interrogations, and Disposings
Making his way inside, The Sniper saw what looked like a home more than a club house. There was furniture such as tables, chairs, and even a ratty old couch in the far corner of the room. Upon the table lay multiple, child-like sketches of maps, checklists, and drawings with the words “Possible Cutie Marks” scribbled on it. The filly moved over to small icebox next to the old couch, she flung it open and produced two sandwiches wrapped in cellophane. Walking over to the table, she pulled out a chair and sat down, waving over the man.
“Com’ sit wit’ me.” Applebloom motioned to the chair across from her own.
The man moved to the table and pulled out the chair, but found it way too small for him to be seated in properly.
“Uhh..I’m fine, I’ll sit.” he said as he moved the chair away and sat down at the table. luckily for him, it only came up to about his mid-chest.
She gave him the sandwich which he graciously accepted. He gingerly unwrapped the meal, carefully trying not to destroy the meat foodstuff….wait. Flowers?
“Whats wrong? don't like Dandelions?” The filly said quizzically.
“I uhh..I’m on a diet.” He bull-shited awkwardly, hoping the small pony would buy it. Luckily for him, she did.
“Whatever, more for mah’ self!” she took the sandwich from his hands and began eating, seeing as she already finished her own.
“So” she spoke between bites,
“You’re ah’ interestin’ fella’, who are ya?”
The Sniper thought for a moment, he really shouldn't be giving out information like its nothing, but she just a kid anyway. What's he gonna do, tell her “Sorry, that information is classified”? That would certainly make things uncomfortable for the both of them. So, he decided to go with an easy, but true cop-out.
“Well, I’m just a guy passing through, nothing really.”
Perfect.
“If you’re just ‘passin through’ then whats up wit’ that there shaggy, leafy thin’ yaa warin’?Am pretty sure no pony would wear THAT thin.”
Uh oh. Play it cool.
“It’s my, umm..Cloak of Invisibility!” Yet another semi-truth pulled straight out from his ass.
“REALLY? Thats so COOL!” Applebloom stared wide eyed at the man.
“How does’ it work?” she asked excitedly.
He thought for a second, feeling around in his ‘bag of bullshit’ for more answers.
“Magic.” he finally said jokingly, hoping she would become disinterested.
“What kind of magic?”
And just like that, the thing he pulled out of his ass, came back and bit him where it came from.
“Well...thats a story for another time, how about we move on?” He desperately tried to divert the conversation.
“Ok, so back to the orginal’ questin’ Who are ya, I mean you already told me ya ‘just passin trhough’, but you gotta’ have ah name.”
Damm, she was persistent little bugger. He desperately needed to think of a name common to the ones native to the land. Thinking back, he did hear a conversation between two ponies on the trail by his camp, one referred to himself as ‘Sky High’, he decided that would be the best cover for him at the moment.
“It’s Sky High, Mr.High if you want to be formal.”
“Thats strange, ya’seem ta’ share tha’ same name with mah’ mail-pony, who is DR.High by tha’ way, he got his doctorate-thingy while study’n fog formations at our farm hills, mah family and i went to his graduation.”
Shit.
“Well Dr.High, or shall ah’ say, O’Ghranson!” she yelped in victory. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what happened and quickly looked down at his ACU, he could see that the Ghillie Suit did not conceal his name tag, for it was out in the open for display.The final pawn had fallen a long time ago, and now the small filly had conquered the board by taking out The Sniper’s king. Check-mate.
“Clever kid, I gotta hand it to ya” he chuckled in defeat. She smiled at him in smug victory.
“So now that ah’ know your name, and you know mine, assuming you were here when when mah friends called me by my name.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“After ya...killed those no good murders, I got a good look at ya, and ah’ saw that yer’ boot print also matches tha’ one by the window.” she motioned toward it.
He turned slightly to see that, indeed, there was a clearly defined boot print by the window sill.
“So its only safe to assume that yall’ were in here, eating those apples,” She pointed to the now, browning apple cores left on the floor. “before ah’ got inside, and somehow, got out before ah’ could see ya’, most likely through tha window there. So it’s likely ya heard my name being called before ah’ got in.” She sat back and crossed her forehoofs together, putting on a smug face.
He could only stare at her with an amused, yet stupid look of shock clearly evident on his face.
"Holyshit! this kid’s situational awareness would rival or even outperform some on-field intelligence officers back home."
he put a hand on his neck and let out a long whistle.
“You’re smarter than you seem to be letting on, kid.”
“Yeah..mah’ granny and sis always said that I was one of tha” smartest youngsters’ they ever seen, beside mah’ brother of course, but he’s ah’ adult now.” She blushed slightly, giving her look the cutest complexion The Sniper had ever seen.
“But ah wasn't always use’in mah’ noodle like now-ah’days. After those crazy marauders began steal’n stuff from our barn and sheds, we had tah’ be on tha’ look out in order to stop or pravent’ the thievery.”
“Marauders?” he asked,“Like those scumbags?” He pointed his thumb to the carnage outside the window.
She nodded in agreement. “I hate’em, they once almost attack mah’ granny as she was out singing to the pumpkins last year. Thankfully, Big Mac was there ta’ save her from those psychos.”
hmm...maybe that's why she was so nonchalant about that fact I killed those fuckers. They obviously had, and continue to pose a threat to her home and her family.
The Sniper turned his head to the window, seeing as it was getting close to dusk, he would have go to get back to his camp before sunset. However, the multiple amount of dead bodies that currently lay outside the clubhouse was a problem he had to deal with. Or rather they, had to deal with.
“Hey kid, you wanna help me take care of those meat bags outside?” He asked with a smirk.
“Whats in it for me?” She asked jokingly.
The man leaned in closer and almost whispered to her,
“You get to touch ah’ dead guy.”
“Awesome!” She laughed, “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS BODY DISPOSER, YAY!” fist pumping into the air.
Chuckling whilst shaking his head, he got up and ruffled her hair. Before long, the two began the long and gradual process of dragging, hauling, and throwing the bodies into a river nearby. __________________________________________________________________________
“This doesn't go down stream into Ponyville right?” he asked as he prepared to fling the last of the corpses into the river.
Applebloom sat there for a moment thinking.
“Nah.” she said, waving her hoof dismissively.
*yawn* “I’m gettin’ ah’ little tired, ah’ should start to head home soon.” Her eyes half lidded as she spoke, her legs where becoming a bit wobbly as time passed. Noticing this, The Sniper raised an eyebrow,
“Want me to carry you?”
“Mmm-Hmm” She drowsily nodded while putting her arms up in a cute baby-like fashion.
The man effortlessly plucked her up from the ground and put her in his arms, carrying her like a newborn, she instantly melted into his hold and began snoring within seconds. If it weren't for The Snipers “Impenetrable,spiky,cold, killer’s heart” He would have been having a massive coronary rupture, right in the feels...
..which was currently happening now.
He walked little Applebloom home while she snuggled deeper into his arms, trying to avoid the coolness of the late summer night.
Cracking his knuckles, the man sighed in discomfort as his finger joints unstiffened. his hands had been aching all morning. opening and closing his fist, he winced in pain as the muscle in his forearm screaming in agony, that damned zebra had one hell of an arm, nearly broke his. Reaching into his blood soaked BDU pocket, he pulled out a small carton of cigarettes and began to light up. However his method of stress relief was quickly halted once he saw how many of his guilty pleasures were left. He fiddled around with the only two smokes left and grunted in frustration. From this point he had to conserve his tiny-sticks-o’-cancer until he could find paper and a tobacco plant. He seriously considered quitting before he got into this mess, he told the boys back at home to hide any product that contains nicotine before he dies from lung cancer, rather than an insurgent’s bullet.
Shoving away the carton back to it’s pocket he got up and stretched his legs, the satisfying popping in his joints was second to none after a long day of stalking, hiding, killing and traumatizing a small child(although she didn't seem so disturbed after brutally killing a pony, not to mention she did help him throw those shitbags into a river.) Thinking back to that kid Applebloom made The Sniper feel a little relieved about his situation. She, and the zebra Zecora, had been the only two people that lived in this world who had helped him. Considering the fact that they were the ONLY ponies he had interacted with(and did not kill), to him that was a pretty good start to healthy relations with the locals. Maybe he could stop by the foal’s house and check up on things, make sure she isn't being haunted by repressed feelings about previous events. Or being held hostage by those marauders.
The fucking bandits.
His blood boiled and pumped faster through his body as he thought of the sickos who had nearly killed the filly. Taking a deep breath he calmed down and decided stopping by the farm would be a calm and (hopefully) safe plan for the day. Unfortunately for him there was no way in hell he could visit the filly completely caked in dried blood, he first had to wash off yesterday’s hard work from his clothes in the river nearby. Seaming as if every joint in his body popped, he stood up and stretched like he hadn't moved in a millennia. Packing his rifle and other essentials for the trip, he headed off down the hill and to the creek.
The hike was short as The Sniper walked briskly, hoping to avoid any unwanted predators jumping out at him due to his smelly clothes, he was fairly surprised he hadn't been woken up the previous night with a set of jaws barring down at him. Finally he had arrived at the stream, he quickly laid down his equipment and began to undress. taking off his field jacket, shirt, and finally pants, leaving him in only boxers. He bent down and laid the articles into the brook as he began scrubbing and washing the filthy coagulation off. His eyes focused on a particular thick spot of dried brain matter that had splattered on the collar. His thoughts, aches, and pains melted away as he scrubbed and cleaned his uniform. He felt in a total state of peace, the stresses of arriving here in this world had seemed to be a distant feeling, the forest was very quiet this morning…
too quiet…
As if a switch was thrown in his brain, his body jolted upright and spun around, his eyes wide and in full alert. He scanned the surrounding area with a hand gripping his pistol he had set down on the rocks. His breath quickened and blood rushed to his ears, it was like the calm before the storm, the moment before a tiger pounces, everything was still. His panicked state was quickly broken by the light chirping of a robin, a chipper tune of warm weather and sunny skies, rather than one of danger. The Sniper calmed, he shakily put back his pistol and sat cross legged as he regained his breath. There had been times where he would have these moments, times where he would freak out from nothing, even when the world around him was calm. So there we was, heaving like he ran three marathons, shaking like its -30 out and in nothing but combat boots and underwear. Resting his head onto his knees, he had finally managed to breath normally and stop the world from spinning.
Beep!
Beep!
Beep!
The Sniper’s head snapped upright and flew to the source of the sound. About a few feet away, beeping and blinking sitting right where he left it was his SGPS. He sat there dumbfounded, staring at the little wristwatch like device. At last, he snapped out of his stupor and scrambled to the wrist mounted screen. Gently he picked up the SGPS, or what the engineers called it, the Squad Global Positioning System. The 4.5” screen of the device was blinking madly, indication it was half out of battery. The little battery symbol was flashing red on the screen, alerting it’s user of its state of power. The Sniper groaned in annoyance at the gadget, however not for the low battery, but for what the beeping could have been.
When the tech-guys back at HQ gave him and his squad the little gizmo, they said it was a positioning system that allowed every member of the squad to know where each other was at all times, well at least within a 500 meter radius. Every device would constantly send out a ping that would only extend as far, when a squad member left/entered the radius, the watch would beep and their signature would disappear/appear on the map. With all The Sniper’s time in this new world, he had never heard the little tablet make any kind of noise. He would always be waiting for it to beep again, weather it was when he was scouting, hoping for it to beep when he got close, or if his squad was in the same area and searching for him.
unfortunately, this was not the case. Putting it back down, he once again stood up and moved back to his clothes. Thankfully, the stream wasn’t to quick and his uniform wasn’t washed away with the current. He lifted his soaking camouflage and folded it up, putting it under his arm, he began to set off. He was about to pick up his rifle when he notice it wasn't where he had put it. He looked down the river bank and spotted his SVD, sitting in a puddle of mud on the river bank. Raising an eyebrow, he wondered how it even got there in the first place. He must have kicked it when he was freaking out earlier. Picking up the gun, he could see mud packed into the muzzle and break. As he handled the weapon, he heard a shaking/shifting sound coming from the receiver. Opening the bolt, ejecting a shell and removing the mag, he could see a moderate amount of dirt, grit and sand pouring out of the weapon. How any of it got there he had no clue, what he did know was to clean the hell out of the weapon when he had the chance, and being conveniently at the river allowed him to do so.
Taking out a small cleaning kit, the man began to swab the barrel and clear the receiver of any foreign particles the best he could. He would eventually have to field strip the gun back at base camp where he had the necessary tools to do the job. Seeing as his cleaning job was adequate for the time being, he put the magazine back in and slung the rifle over his shoulder.
“Leaving so soon my friend? I was hoping we could chat, I have some time to spend”
The Sniper whipped around to the sight of Zecora standing on the other bank of the creek. She was knelt down and filling a small wooden canteen with the river's water. She smiled at him and set about wading through the shallow brook to get over to his side.
“Zecora?” the man gruffed, his voice scratchy and dry, he just realized he hadn't drank anything today and he could feel a headache coming on. He knelt down to waters edge and cupped his hands, slowly taking a long guzzle from the water.
“Long time no see” he gasped after a particularly long gulp.
“Indeed Mr.Ghranson, and I must say, your looking rather handsome” she stifled a giggle.
The man’s cheeks turned a light shade of red as he realized he was half naked and probably look absolutely ridiculous.
“With all jokes aside, I came out here looking to give you some supplies.” She opened her saddle bags and pulled out a small pouch of sorts and handed it over to the man, who took it gingerly in his hands.
whatever it was, it felt fragile and the pouches contents gave a soft *klink *klink as they rattled together. he assumed they might be a glass container of sorts.
“A gift for you sir, vials filled with juices you may prefer. Not only is it nectar, but some contain potions, made for one to become a spectre.”
The man looked thoughtfully at the bag of potions and juice. His heart warmed at the sight of the zebra smiling at him with closed eyes and a happy face.
"Woah, thanks Zecora” He knelt down, “this is so nice of you, I mean you didn't really have t-”
He was cut off by a hoof shooting to his mouth,
“No nonono, from what I can see, you are always in a state of need. Do not take me wrong, but you can only live like you do in the Everfree for so long.” she finished and nickered.
“Besides, I believe one of these potions will help you in your jungle disguise.” She winked
“They’re effects are tagged and written, so you won’t blindly drink and grow chitin” she paused and looked up at the sky, her eyes squinting at the sun and clouds positioned in the heavens.
"Wait, some of the potions can make me grow armor? That's.....cool I guess...and slightly weird." He thought, but before he could think again, his musings were interrupted.
"Sadly I must be going, a storm is coming and I would like to be home when the winds start blowing."
The Sniper looked up and saw that the once blue sunny sky, became muddled with large, dark grey clouds that loomed in the distance. How long had he been out? the sun was close to about three quarters down to the horizon, and the world began to take a very slight pink hue. Packing her canteen away, the mare gave him a light slap on the leg and turned around, trotting away down the path.
"I hope I get to see you again soon, maybe on a day when rain isn't scheduled for the afternoon" The striped mare waved and continued down the path until she turned a bend and disappeared from sight behind the thick foliage.
The man stood in place and toyed with the burlap sack of potions, hearing them klink around as he held it. he could even just barely make out a faint glowing within the bag, presumably coming from one of the vials. Taking the small length of rope on the bag's end, he tied it around his waist and embarked on his hike back to camp, hoping that he could get there before dusk settled in.
Wait....no...nonon-NO NO!
The Sniper's mind raced and his legs kicked into overdrive as he came upon his campsite. As he got closer, his eyes confirmed his worst fears as he could make out his bag thrown and strewn about. Its contents littered the area and some where even missing. He dropped his wet clothes and looked around in a panic, his camp was in complete ruin. All his supplies and where either thrown about haphazardly or even plain out missing, it had looked like a pack of ravenous dogs had come through and destroyed everything in site. He knelt down and shakily gathered up what he could salvage and placed it into his torn up backpack. His was in a state of absolute shock and mild fear, Had someone found him? if they did who did this? why would they? was he raided? all these questions raced through his head with blinding speed. Someone had to have done this, it couldn't have been the towns folk...they don't even know he exists....unless Applebloom told the others of his existence. Though even if she did, they wouldn't have done soemthing like this, would they? No..no..this was done by someone who was frantically searching for shit to steal, done by someone who had the thought that they would be caught, and the landowner would be home soon. looking to the ground, he could make out hoof prints covering the whole area. And to his left, was a small pace of torn red fabric that was caught on one of the thorn bushes nearby. However something so inconspicuous had managed to set off a nuclear explosion of pure anger when his mind processed his realization of the situation.
"Mother..FUCKERS!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the tree where he spent most of his nights sleeping under. It rattled and shook from his spouting anger and hatred that coursed through him. However the tree wasn't the only thing that was shaking.
I Fucking swear to Christ I'm going to find those fuckers and gut them for taking my shit! His head felt like it was going to pop the way he was clenching his jaw so tightly. They had not only managed to find where he camps out, but also take some of the most important items that allowed him to survive out here, without those basic necessities, he would never be able to survive long enough to find a way home.
"God fucking DAMMIT! ARGH!" he yelled once more, causing birds in the surrounds tree tops to scatter and fly away. His breathing increased and his body shuttered, what is he going to do now?
The first thing he wants to do is track and hunt down the cultist. However he has literally no supplies left, no resources other than Zecora. He was, at this point, utterly screwed. With all his training, all his time spent in survival courses at Basic, he would think he would be able to survive with less than he has now, but only in a situation where rescue was a sure possibility. But now? Stuck in a situation where rescue is astronomically high if not imposable, the locals are completely foreign, stuck in enemy territory and (from what he can see) surround by hostiles with no reinforcements. And not to mention limited ammo, he might as well be dead now.
Sthiichk!
The sound of a snapping branch ripped him our of his thoughts as he whirled around drawing his gun, only to look into the hollow, crazed eyes of a unicorn stallion who had one too many scars on his face. Atop his forehead, right under his horn was a literal carving of a pointed wheel.
"Well well, it looks like the fucking mutant gorilla has shed its hair for more of a...breezy look? is that what you would say?" He looked up in confusion with hoof drawn to his chin.
"Eh whatever, I presume your the dick head that killed my subordinates, hum?" he pointed to The Sniper with an venomous sneer. "I wasn't particularly please to wake up one day and find all four of my men washed up on my dock and rotting from the inside out."
The man seethed "That's Damn fucking straight asshole, I'm guessing you and your little crew did this?" He spread his arms out wide to emphasized the camp's destruction.
"That's Damn fucking straight bla, waa" he mocked "Yeah we did it, hoping we would find your naked ass here so we could slit your fucking throat. Didn't think you'd show up but hey-hey-hay! you proved me wrong! Good job sport! Your lucky because I'm never, EVER wrong, that's why boss chose me as his right hoof officer." He put a hoof to his chest in pride.
"Anywho, I'm getting bored of this chit-chat shit. To bad, you seem like a nice piece of shit if I get to know you well enough. " His sickly peach magic pulled out a long bowie knife and began slashing wildly in the sniper general direction.
The Sniper snarled and raised his firearm, however his gun was engulfed in the same peach aurora and yanked out of his hand, it flew ten feet away and land well away from his reach.
"Nuh uh ah! no cheating with that strange fucking griffon cannon." He got closer and began to quickly stab at the man.
The Sniper jumped backward and rolled out of the way of a downward slash. The small pits of gravel and thorns cut his back and arms as he did so. Reaching into his boot, he pulled out his secondary boot knife. He always thought it might come in handy at some point and, on occasions like this, was the perfect time to have one. He took a fighting stance and bent his knees low, ready to pounce and dodge another volley of attacks. The Unicorn raised an eyebrow and chuckled.
"*Hmmph, aren't you full of surprises?"
The Stallion lashed out with stabs and slashes to the man, causing him to reel backward slightly. In spite of that he kept his balance and returned his own set of attacks, one of which caught the stallion by surprise and The Sniper's knife slid up his foreleg and sliced deep into the knife welding forelimb. The unicorn cried out in pain and dropped to the ground while letting go of the weapon. In a blinding flash, the man was on top of him and pushing the point dangerously close to the stallion's neck.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY STUFF?! WHO DO YOU WORK FOR!?" The Sniper roared into his ear. His adrenaline level has seemed to skyrocket and was some how rising higher and higher.
"*echk d- *ack" The unicorn hacked.
"ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION SHITFACE!" The man's face was directly in the cultist's own.
"*hack sh~shoot*gasp shoot h~him!"
THWANNG
The sound of a whip crack exploded out as a wasp-like whirring hurtled toward the man at break neck speeds. An arrow flew from the canopy and landed dead center on his right shoulder blade, causing him to yelp in searing pain and roll off the cultist. The Sniper clutched his right shoulder and winced through bleary eyes as the cultist stood up and brushed himself off. The unicorn winced at his own wound and staggered, just when he was about to fall, a dark brown earth pony came from the bushes and caught him before he could. Before the man could even blink, a whole group of 4 stallions and mares, all dressed in dark red(contrary to the unicorn's blood red sweater) and hoods with balaclavas, came from the shadows and surrounded The Sniper.
"Its the end of the line your fucker!" Snarled the injured unicorn, "boss is going to fucking love you when we bring your candy ass back home, wont he?" He magically picked up the pistol that was dropped and hobbled over to the man who was huddling on the ground, trying to break the arrow out from his shoulder.
"Maybe then he can ask you why the FUCK YOUR MESSING WITH OUR SHIT!" The unicorn screamed and reeled the pistol back.
The man's eyes widened as the pistol came barreling down onto his temple, turning the whole world black.
