Minutes passed and the carnage around me escalated as wooden body parts flew through the air. Actually, I've lost track of time. Has it been minutes, or has it been hours? I'm not sure anymore.

These wolves seem to be extremely persistent. Even if you kill some, more of them will come out of the woodwork to replace their fallen brethren-- kind of like a poor man's hydra. And yet, despite their endeavors, they all met the same cruel fate of being tragically dismembered.

In all honesty, they're growing to be a nuisance rather than a threat.

The sound of pained wailing came from behind me. In a seamless shift, I turned around in reflex. There, just several feet away from me was one of those wolves. This one was grievously injured. Instead of a left foreleg, it had a burnt-off stump riddled with acid. Protruding from its back were barbs lodged deep into its body. Its face was no longer recognizable as acid ate away its frail, wooden exterior. Only its glowing, green eyes could be seen.

"That's tragically creepy..." I muttered to myself as I further examined the mutilated wolf.

Volleys of acid and barbs were sent towards it. The wolf dodges side to side, causing the barrage miss its mark. Its agility was giving it just enough time to pierce through the line of necromorphs. With a final jump, it leaped across a dumbfounded hunter...

... and straight into a stray pool of searing, green liquid.

Splashes of green darted upwards as the wolf stumbled to the dirt, struggling helplessly as acidic liquid began to devour him whole. It was safe to say that his assassination attempt was met with failure.

"This is pointless. Their persistence is causing them to shoot themselves in the foot. Gah. That's an understatement. They're basically torturing themselves right now, " I said as I warily backed away from the dying creature.

Meaningless suffering is something I strongly dislike. If I could, I'd put it out of its misery. Its thrashing, however, sprayed acid through the air around it. I'd rather not get dissolved in the process, so I'll stay put.

After what seemed to be seconds of intense agony, the creature went motionless. The unrelenting puddle of ooze did not give mercy even then. It reduced it into a smoldering puddle of green goop. Not even a single remaining trace of its existence was left.

The sounds of harsh growls and whimpering were growing steadily as the battle prolonged itself, yet their numbers were reducing. They were attempting to intimidate my army, but you can't inspire fear into something that doesn't even grasp emotion.

Up until that lone wolf managed to kill itself by diving into that body of burning acid, none of the wolves could bypass the wall of necromorphs defending me. That was for good reason, however.

First, they had to get pass the stream of spikes and acid coming straight towards them. Second, they had to avoid getting decapitated by the melee-based combatants. Third, they had to actually get pass the death-line of necromorphs in order to get to me.

Truly a difficult feat to achieve indeed.

I risked traumatizing myself, but both curiosity and boredom bested me as I took another look around.

The surrounding trees within the vicinity were peppered with barbs, courtesy of the lurkers' tendency to miss the majority of their shots due to their poor aiming capabilities. However, their aim was compensated for the fact that for each shot, three barbs would be discharged in a conical arc.

Some of the lush trees were doused in acid, only half dissolved. Those trees are considered lucky to me. The less fortunate trees that once stood proudly erect on the dirt were now reduced to a puddle of volatile stomach acid. Littered on the battlefield were hacked-off bits of lumber. I can't tell if these lumbers came from the trees or from the wolves, but they're most probably from both.

This feeling of having complete dominion over an army of staunch, zealous combatants is surreal. Yet, this was far from feeling like a dream. This is reality and there's no doubt about it. I'm feeling ridiculously giddy inside. Must I say more?

I spectated at the gory marvel occurring before me. One of the regenerators managed to impale one of the offending wolves with one of its scythe-like appendages. Heaving the wolf by its sharp, bony appendage, the regenerator hurled it towards a puddle of searing digestive liquids. The sight made me cringe, to say the least.

The wolf splashed the voracious liquid into the air before leaping out of the pit of liquid death. However, the fluids clung onto the wolf, eating away the body of its victim without relent. The wooden beast barely had time to yelp in pain before it collapsed onto the ground as it was continued to be reduced to a mere shallow pool of acid.

Regenerators--these necromorph variants are usually much larger than the other lesser necromorph strains. They also have a penchant for tormenting their victims. As their name suggests, they can regrow lost limbs at a whim. Basically, they cannot be killed unless all of their limbs are destroyed in synchronization. Preferably, one would use fire to put them out of commission.

Since these wolves have no way of using fire, they can't kill them. That's just unfair, isn't it?

The hunter, satisfied by the amount of pain he had applied onto the wolf, slammed the wolf down to the ground by swinging his bladed appendage swiftly, dislodging the peculiar dog-like wooden creature from it. It was sent hurling towards the ground at a ridiculously fast velocity. The wolf exploded, sending its wooden limbs soaring to the sky.

Before I knew it, the battle has ended. The wolves began to withdraw into the hazy shadows of the foliage. My necromorphs were eager to pursue them. The desire to hunt them down was demonstrated as they began to charge into the shrubbery.

However, I was not too keen to prolong this meaningless battle. "Don't bother chasing them. We've won. No need to further the casualty toll," I spoke with a neutral, commanding tone. 'Not that there were any casualties on our side.'

Reluctantly, they growled as they slowed down and began to turn back. Huh, I wasn't expecting their complacency to curb their bloodlust. I thought to myself in enlightenment. Regrouping in front of me, they awaited my commands.

"Alright, obviously, we're not doing anything productive unless we split up and provide ourselves with some knowledge about this foreign area," I stated, to which they responded with intent stares. Needless to say, a legion of the undead staring at you is extremely disturbing.

"So, I want a cluster of all of you to scout the place. You are allowed to go massacring whatever creatures stand in your way, but only if they are deemed a threat, otherwise, simply avoid being noticed." I commanded, "If you find anything noteworthy... just lead me to it. Understood? Now go, all of you!"

I swear, my voice was going to crack as I said those words. Commanding a huge horde of eviscerated beings who practices and finds amusement in eviscerating other beings is a very strenuous task to one's mental resolve. For a more simplistic explanation, it will make you nervous. Extremely nervous.

As expected, they displayed exemplary compliance as they all dispersed from the area. Shortly, there was none of them left remaining in my range of vision, leaving me to my solitude in this large, shady forest. In this very imposing forest filled with countless predators, possibly.

I regret this decision...

Sighing in both boredom and annoyance, I reclined on a log that have fallen over some time ago. My eyes darted back and forth warily. It was obvious that those strange timber creatures wouldn't want to launch another assault on me, especially after suffering that degree of attrition.

Still, it wouldn't be ill-advised keeping my perception keen, should a predatory being intends on feasting on my mauled carcass. Now would it?

The shrubs rustled, the leaves fell to the ground, pirouetting as they did, and the grass had a rhythmical sway as the breeze seemingly increased in intensity. Hm, I could grow fond to the cooling gusts of this forest. I thought optimistically to myself.

The silence was ubiquitous in this forest, making me uneasy. Not a single snap of a twig, no sound of crickets or other insects, no sound of the indigenous wildlife. Nothing but a sadistic silence.

I loathed it. Yes, I spite silence. Normally, I prefer indulging in a book with silence, it made it much more tranquil.

Though, when you're stranded in an unknown forest with actual wolves literally composed of lumber, and likely other ravenous animals, the silence can provoke your paranoia by quite a bit.

"I swear, I'm going to develop sedatephobia." I expressed my distaste for the shortage of sound.

This is getting annoyingly monotonous. Then again, waiting is a very tedious and dull task. Perhaps I should be a bit more productive and wander around for a bit? That might appease a slight portion of my boredom-

Suddenly, a gurgle came from beside me. It was that of a necromorph, but it was at a much lower tone than usual. It definitely sounded less aggressive. Recoiling from the suddenness of the noise, I rose up from my slacking position.

I turned to face towards my left, the direction where the sound originated, and was slightly relieved to find it was simply one of my lurkers. I must be going insane if I consider a lurker being something that gives relief.

"Oh, it's only you." I said, small remnants of tension threaded within my tone, "So, did you manage to find something to worthy of my interest, or did you just want to come and greet me?" I asked.

Of course, the only response appeared in the form of an indecipherable, incoherent gurgle-like sound. Nodding as if I understood him, I questioned, "So... does that mean a 'yes?' "

Apparently, my assumption was correct as the necromorph let out another unintelligible gurgling sound but at a much higher volume, doing some sort of spinning gesture with its tentacles.

"Uh. Well then, escort me there. I'd like to see whatever it is myself." I ordered. The lurker obeyed, making its way into the dense mantle of the forest's uncountable myriad of shrubberies.

Realizing that the lurker was quickly distancing itself from where I stood, I picked up the pace and dashed after it, failing to avoid the obstructing leaves from pelting my face.

Grimacing at these pestering leaves constantly pestering my eyes, I cursed aloud, "Dammit. I'm reminded of why I dislike venturing out."

Emerging out from the wall of thick bushes and other flora, I collapsed onto my haunches and felt a cascade of relief wash over me as I arrived at my destination; a lowly, modest-looking shack of some sort.

"I subjected myself to chronic amounts of physical strain... Just to find an old house." I said to myself as I felt being plunged into the constriction of hysteria.

I turned to the necromorph who recommended me to examine this place. "So, all that trouble navigating through that nightmare of a forest, just to explore this small, random house in this forest?" I asked myself, "Now that I think of it, who'd prefer living in this forest anyways? Hardcore naturalists? The plants here want to eat you!"

I shrugged off that unproductive thought. "Ack. I'm getting side-tracked." I pointed at the lurker. "You. I want you to gather the other members of my army here. I'd rather not be left defenseless if I end up provoking whoever lives here."

I commanded, pointing at the ground below me. "I will attempt to see if I can negotiate something with the owner." Without the slightest hesitation, the lurker bolted off into the shadowy cover of the forest.

Ugh. Look at me. Conversing with a vocally unresponsive reanimated corpse. I'm starting to question my sanity. Not that I didn't question my sanity before. I sigh. "Well, might as well get this over with."

After a few preparations--removing leaves that somehow tucked into my robes, dusting off the dirt coating me, and other miscellaneous things--I approached the house.

Before I did anything that would've most likely lead to regret and grievances, I took a peek inside the house through the window. Much to my dismay, nobody was present. That's a relief, I don't have to communicate with reclusive people.

Suddenly, I saw something suspended on the middle of the wall that was relevant to my current situation. It was a map, a coarsely made one, but a map nonetheless. I didn't want to break into someone's house just to acquire a map. It's just... pitiful.

Thankfully, I didn't have to, I can simply view the map from where I stood. The map displayed the current position, it being represented with a crudely drawn house.

A patch of blue flowers were located just north from here, that is, if this map is accurate. Just south from here is a group of buildings. It was glaringly obvious that this map is lacking much detail and helpful information.

"Wow, who's the cartographer? Surely he, or she, is quite talented." I said sarcastically in a condescending tone.

I looked around further within the interior of this unrefined building. Nothing but bottles, ominous ones if I might add, were present in the room. A black cauldron was positioned in the middle of the house, for reasons that are beyond me.

There was some sort of repulsively green liquid sizzling within the pot. Whoever owns this house is either a lunatic... or an actual witch, but I doubt that the latter is likely. Whatever conjuration the brewer is making in that cauldron is something I'd rather avoid knowing.

I shook my head slowly as I turned away from the window, and glanced towards the outskirts of this house. Of course, I could see several sinister figures obscured by the shadows looking directly at me. "Oh, good! My necromorphs have already regrouped... that was ridiculously fast."

"Alright, I have two options. Blue flowers or civilization. Flowers with the pigment of blue or other people." I murmured. Of course, I went with the more reasonable decision.

But before I could make any decision, I heard a loud gasp. Turning towards the source, I was somewhat appalled by what I have found-- a zebra, that seemed to have a fondness of gold bands. Seeing that it was wearing gold bands on her legs and neck.

Of course, I didn't even have the time to properly react, as all of a sudden she opened her mouth and let loose a shriek before retreating further back into the protective undergrowth of the forest floor, screaming "Monster!" repeatedly. I suppose having a legion of undead followers present in the area has that effect on people-- er, animals?

I stood there for an additional five seconds or so. Shrugging off that random encounter, I recollected my thoughts. "Was that zebra apparently sapient? No-wait. That's beyond logic. It must have been someone that apparently looked like one, but that's illogical as well. A person dressed up as a zebra? Just where the hell am I?"

I turned to my necromorphs and sighed. "I appreciate you guys avoiding to kill that thing on sight," I said in commendation, to which I am responded by growls, shrieks, and other noises that I can't even begin to describe.

"Well then, let's get going. I guess."

The lush trees bearing green leaves and exotic-looking fruits give off a tranquil feeling. The cool breeze calms me down, and the singing of the birds would have morphed even the most negative of moods into a relaxed state.

The scenery, however, is being ruined by a trail of blood and flesh being left by my army of decaying corpses. Also, how can I forget to mention the putrid stench coming from the legion of undead following behind me?

"Having a loyal army of dead bodies has its disadvantages..." I murmured. At the moment, me and my army are heading South in order to find civilization. I'm not dumb. I'm not going to just allow an army of rotting corpses to waltz into whatever place this is. They'll have to stay behind in order for me to not cause a rioting panic.

My destination wasn't far from me now. I can even already see it from here. A town filled with simple-looking houses with straw roofs. This building style looks similar to the ones used in the medieval era. I hope I didn't just find a renaissance reenactment fair... that would be rather awkward. However, in this getup, I think I'll just fit right in.

"Hey," I said, turning myself towards the direction of my necromorphs, "I want every single one of you to remain here. I will go in myself."

I begin walking further, distancing myself from my necromorphs. Growing somewhat concerned for my well-being, "Just in case the inhabitants are... unfriendly, come and rescue me. Do whatever is necessary."

And so I began to walk further outside the cover of the forest, 'I'm here just to ask for some help, nothing else. Things can't go bad, can they? I'd rather avoid rousing trouble...'

As I walked, I felt an eerie feeling of dread. I couldn't make heads or tails out of it, but I decided to dismiss it as just a random feeling. I went progressively slower as I neared myself to the establishment, having to suppress a chuckle as I saw the sign boldly placed just outside the village's outskirts.

There, engraved on a stone slate were the words: "Welcome to Ponyville!"

"Ponyville?" I pondered. "Do ponies have some sort of cultural significance here?" I mused.

However, my assumption was in fact correct. Correct in a rather unorthodox way that it made me stop in my tracks abruptly.

Strolling on the lush, green plains were miniature horse-things. Apparently conversing with each other and doing other everyday activities. Upon seeing this, my sense of reasoning faltered. Frantic, I clenched my fists. "I don't see any humans there... Don't tell me that the majority's entirety consists of these... ponies."

Infuriated to no end, I let out an annoyed roar, "Argh! Come on!"

I let out a sigh of irritation, but before I could turn back, I saw what appears to be a rather shiny apple in the distance. It was conspicuously placed out in the open. There were no apple trees nearby. It was obvious to see that this was deliberately placed here.

I was skeptical, but I approached it nonetheless. The apple had a luster that could rival even gemstones. On flat grass, it seemed just too suspicious.

"Seriously? What sort of primitive scheme to capture me is this?" I questioned to nobody in particular. I eyed the apple once more as I spoke in disbelief to myself, "This only works on animals! How can someone-"

"It can talk!" a yelp of revelation came out from the bushes. Whoever was in possession of the voice was probably the one who laid out the extremely simplistic trap.

Suddenly, I felt something blunt collide on my torso. It was completely a blur, I couldn't even catch a glimpse of what hit me. Staggering to the ground, I bellowed an outraged remark, "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

Finally, I felt something impact with my face. It was purplish in color, and upon collision, I felt no force behind whatever was sent at me at all. I coughed a bit before letting out a barely audible laugh.

"You'll need more than that..." suddenly, I find myself yawning, "...to stop me." Before I could even realize it, I was face-first on the ground, midway to unconsciousness.

"Girls! I... I think I caught the monster Zecora was talking about!" was all that I could hear in the distance as I slowly descended to unconsciousness.