Author's Notes:

This story is written in First Person Semi-Omniscient. Tumbleweed is always the narrator, even if he is not in the scene. He can talk and discuss the events as if he had some one else tell them to him. Think of him like a story teller.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 4 Gardens
Part 2- You Should Be Afraid of Monsters

The shimmering moon, above, cast a brilliant red aura across the town. From the derelict skeleton of what must have been an old clock tower, Calypto struggled to catch his breath. A graveyard of gears had been splayed out across the ground from the open crater of the crumbling structure...

Between the red glow of the moon, the shade, and his wounds, it was hard to differentiate between his stripes and his blood stains. Worse than his aching leg was a bitter taste that lingered in his mind.

Despite his injuries, Calypto made haste through the alleyways, cursing and gritting between steps. He found himself looking out upon the front entrance of the Ministry of Arcane Science building, with it’s degraded six-pointed star insignia upon its blasted open doors.

As Calypto clung to a corner, a mare scrambled out into the alleyway, chased by a pair of bloodied raiders. One was lunging down from a second story building above in the salvaged frame of a suit of power armor. It had carpentry drills revving on either hoof and a strange catapult like device on his shoulders. The second raider had a hoof replaced with the leg of zebra robot and he had a large cylinder that crossed his back.

Fli-ching! The makeshift catapult launched a volley of lawn mower blades. The first ricocheted off of the wall into the ground. Calypto leaned out of the way of the second veering blade as it caught uplift and zoomed into a bulky raider behind him.

“Help! Please!” The mare cried as she leaped into Calypto’s shoulder. Calypto snapped his revolver to the first raider. Gritting down on the trigger, Calypto fired twice.

The first shot deflected off of the pony’s armored frame. Second found its way into a break in the raider’s armor landing in his leg, but failed to stop the barreling raider power train.

“Stripeless bitch.” Calypto muttered as the raider charged in. “Prove your worth, Oracle.” Calyto said as he lined up a shot to the raiders head. As the raider bit his trigger, Calypto’s bullet burst out, whizzing to the right of the raider head. Before Calypto could curse, the device on the Raiders back hiccoughed, snapping in on itself. The raider stumbled as one blade embedded itself into his back. He came crashing to the earth, gutting himself on the metal blade that had buried itself in the ground previously.

Zztang! A harpoon rocketed out from the second raider’s cylinder, but had missed, skewering his friend in his power armor. He bucked back and pulled out a bottle with a thick black goop inside, with a fabric plume coming out the top. As the raider lit the rag of a molotov cocktail, Calypto punched a bullet through the bottle, wreathing the raider in flames. There was nothing like fire to encourage a pony to take their last dance. As the pony writhed, they turned upward to the sky. The speargun launched a final wayward javelin into the empty above.

“We have to get out! It’s not worth it! I-i-it’s a nightmare out there-- I-i-it’s not safe! The monsters, you have to--” The mare whimpered.

Calypto opened his mouth to speak to the mare, only to peek his eyes up. He grabbed the mare and whirled her around as the spear stabbed down to where she stood. Calypto dropped his breath. “Breathe some air, and tell me what happened.”

“T-t-they… I just… everypony…”

“Breathe air, damn it!” Calypto said grabbing the pony by her collar. The unicorn gasped, wide eyed, as Calypto enforced the breathing with a stern glare. After ‘sufficient breathing’, the pony looked to Calypto.

“There are these weird monsters, they are everywhere. They’re repulsive, and nothing can kill them. I don’t want to die. You have got to help me.”

Calypto chuckled to himself as he dusted off his sarape with a brush of his hoof. “Don’t worry about anything. You’ll be…”

In the middle of speaking, Calypto’s eyes wandered. The sunshine on his face soured as his eye fell upon a bouquet of colorful furry things tied onto the side of the pony’s barding. The multicolored assortment was accented by a wet pinkish red that dripped and mixed into the long collection of hairs. Without cool or calm, the silver revolver snaked out, barrel placed flush with the mare’s forehead. In an instant, a lead bullet exploded through the pony’s skull.

“Scalp-taking fuck.” Calypto muttered as the pony’s blood trickled off of him. Breathing heavily, he walked over the dead pony and spit down on her. “...Scalp-taking fuck.”

Calypto glared as he stamped a hoof down on the corpse. An image of Midnyte flashed through his mind. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew for himself, there were no good raiders, and none worthy of forgiveness. They were all equally rotten scum to him. Even her…

Especially her...

Most importantly, as he wore the blood of the guilty on his white and black, it satisfied a terrible itch. It was a well timed wake up call.

“Hero... of the oracle....” a strange guttural voice called out.

“Hmm?” Calypto spun to point his revolver at the voice, but there was nopony there. “Where did tha—Whoa!” Calypto stumbled back as he saw boiling red blood flowing out from the power armor.

A curtain of cascading blood gushed from the opening at the middle of the armored carapace. A toothy snout forced its way through the spear sundered gap in the armor, its flesh bulging as it tried to pour through the crack. “Kah! Kah-Kahl-Calypto!” The creature screamed as a pulsing gland split open, revealing two bleeding eyes glaring at the zebra. “Seeker... s-seeker of justice.”

“Ugh. Popped a zit? Didn’t anypony ever tell you? If it swells, don’t scratch it.” Calypto chided as he stepped back and jingled his spurs.

“The world is poisoned... if you seek justice, then look into my eyes and die.” The gibbering mess churned as it lifted onto its back hooves. What was once the pony's neck shot forward, breaching open with a bed of teeth that traced up through the pony’s temple.

“Agh!” Calypto growled as the teeth latched onto his shoulder. The whurring drills on the pony's front two hooves coiled back to strike.

“Linux!”

The spirit snake sprung out from Calypto's back and coiled around the armor. Linux's plug-like teeth plunged into the spell matrix of the armor. His eyes flashed with ones and zeroes, his body pulsed with green light. The gears of the power armor roared as they wrenched the creature back. After the cogs clapped, the bloody haunt bucked and kicked within the armor, but it wouldn't budge. It was like a demon sealed inside a tin can.

The distorted, pulsing head seeped through the cracks and flashed its teeth at Calypto. Ptaff! Calypto shot a bullet at the ground, but he didn't seem to aim for anything. With the barrel still smoking, he drew a line in front of the beast and watched the airborne ash morph around. The smoke formed a direct line between the sunken eyes of the monster and his own, before spiraling around the armor.

“So, they link to the soul? What a rotten creature... I almost shot myself dead.” Calypto stepped forward and pushed the armor to the ground. “Possession? Soul bonds? Blood alchemy? Ha... This is necromancy.” He grinned, looking down on the boxed demon. “You’re breaking the laws of the universe and you want to tell me that you are standing for justice? Don't go throwing around words you don't understand the meaning of.”

“We are the same.”

“That is a lot of hot shit coming from a necromorph.” Calypto shrugged and tipped his head to the side. “Where do you get off saying cliche nonsense like that anyway? What age are you from?”

“You... despise the ponies of this... poisoned world.” The wretched whelp seemed to smile as it coughed the words. “You slaughter them for their sin. We demand the same repentance. We are the same.”

“You’re right.” He stumbled back, wincing at the pain of his hind leg. “I don't like the ponies of this world too much…” His tense grit perked up into a grin. “but that doesn't make us friends, you homicidal freaks. If you are looking for new recruits, try someone else.”

“We do not want you to join us.” Fleshy talons forced themselves between the gaps in the steel armor. Long, bloody arms burst out of the cracks and reached around to the back of the carapace. Each claw hooked itself into the spear hole as the nightmare ripped at each side of the hole.

“What in the star shimmering hell….” Calypto stepped back.

Suddenly, there was a voice that came from below him. “You shall die for our justice.” The corpse of the scalp taking mare spoke through sharp teeth on its shoulder. The corpse's bladed hoof slashed out at Calypto, but he threw himself to the side.

“Die for our purification.” Calypto’s eyes flexed open at the sting of the voice that came from behind him. The zebra whirled around to see the corpse of another raider that had been behind him earlier, shambling towards him. Its head had split down the center and each vertebrae had swelled in size, the spiky fringes piercing out of the ends of its flesh. Its torso had formed a new head with the rib cage flexing out into moving jaws.

The original aberration rent open the armor like a steel chrysalis. Six long sickles unfolded from the cocoon as the tall-jawed face reared out towards Calypto. It ripped the spear out of its body and pointed it at Calypto. “You are the true sacrifice to the world. You die.”

Calypto grinned as he brandished a severed ram’s horn that spiraled around his hoof. With the flick of a silver lever, the cap on the horn opened. He flicked the tip of the horn, sprinkling a liquid into the metamorphic ghast's mouth. The mutated freak raised its arms high to strike, but the strike never came. The creature began to seize and spasm. It struggled until it collapsed beside Calypto, and only a glowing red gel pooled over the open wounds of the monster.

Calypto shook as he pulled himself up to his hooves. “With the four sky-earth winds watching over me, I castigate thee, under the moon and stars and in the name of the sun, the world turns thee undone.” As he spoke, the horn took on a soft purple glow. Calypto stabbed the horn into the scalp-taking gaunt. It fell over similarly to the first, convulsing as it bloated up and began to ooze with viscous red chunks. The third abomination refused to even approach. Calypto clapped his hooves before looking forward to the MAS facility. Turning his back on the host of shivering monsters, he smiled. “I don’t abide by your false justice.” He said over his shoulder as he stepped through out of the alley into the shambled courtyard of the MAS facility into the shadow of the building’s brutalist architecture. “It’s about time I got here.”

` Calypto staggered with an uneven limp, trading his weight across his three undamaged hooves, as he approached the sundered metal gate, the entrance to the Ministry of Arcane Sciences facility. Shattered glass from the door behind the fallen partitions littered the ground. It appeared that strange black vines had sewn themselves between the cracks in the floor tiles.

Only by flickering gem light, Calypto gazed around the lobby as he crossed out of the moonlight. The large lobby was alight with the glow of a large star shaped gemstone in the center, illuminating the bloody entrance desk. Scrawled in dry, black blood across the wall read the words:

Welcome to the garden of evil

“Charming.…” Calypto snickered.

At the sound, a quick light passed over Calypto. He mounted his revolver in anticipation. Suddenly, a female automated voice spoke from the speakers above.

“Welcome…” the system spoke politely. “to Ministry of Arcane Sciences Applied Psychogenics Laboratory: Designation Ponyville.” The voice was clunky, piecing together language rather than forming them into a fluid pattern. “Would you like to fill out a guest… badge…Mr…” The voice broke off mid-sentence, just as it was replaced with robust, masculine voice. “ZEBRA SCUM!”

A panel in the wall flipped open, and a twin linked cannon spun alive. Sounds and lights filled the air, and Calypto smirked.

Draw.

*** *** ***

'Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!' Scapegrace chanted in her head frantically with an ear pressed flat against a safe. It was all she could do to hear the faint clicks of the dial among the chaos going on outside.

Tak-A-Tak-A-Trakka!

Gunfire matched with screams echoed from every side, getting closer and closer.

Cli--Dakan!

A concussive rumble from below shot through the building, but by a fraction of a second, the safe’s last tumbler clicked into place and popped open. In a pitch black room, Scapegrace peered into the dark through the crystal lenses of her faintly glowing eyes. A gold necklace, a pair of twin diamond rings, and a cadre of other valuables, she swiped them all with a quick hoof.

Cla-clack! Cla-clack!

“Shit!” Scapegrace cursed under her breath as the vibrations from raiders’ hooves rippled through the house. “How many are there? There must be at least ten!” Scapegrace said trying to keep the panicked glow of her body down. “Why does ‘crazy’ always have to have so many friends? And why did I have to stay here? I hate this place. I hate it, hate it, hate it.”

Scapegrace scrambled across the bedroom, but skidded to a stop as gunfire ripped through the floorboards. “Ack! Bad day...” As she ran into the hall, she saw a dark grey unicorn backing up the stairs, with a small levitating rifle firing burst from behind a cabinet. An earth pony beside him with twin-linked shotguns mounted on a battle saddle stood out from cover to try to fire at the unseen attacker, only for orange veins to glow across her face the moment before her head exploded.

Scapegrace saw something strange and amorphous shamble up the stairs through the dark, like some kind of inequine horror. Before the unicorn could turn and run, Scapegrace bolted across the room, barely slipping out of sight. She knocked over a bookcase in front of the door.

Sweat dripped down the side of her face as she looked to every corner of the room. “What does a mare have to do to stay alive in a place like this?” She whispered to herself. The panic felt like snakes were slithering up her shoulders. Looking up, she spotted the pull cord hanging from the ceiling. “Hooves crossed, let’s hope for an earth pony attic.” She galloped for the cord... only to turn 180 degrees and snap back to the door , letting out a muffled whine with every step, as she impulsively snatched 4 books from the bookshelf before running back toward the attic. “Scapegrace, you have problems.”

She climbed up to the attic, which was small and low to the ceiling. It didn't look stable, but she didn't have time. She moved towards a window on the top of the roof when the bending boards collapsed as she was dropped into an adjacent room.

Clack, Clack, Clack, Clack.

More ponies were in the house. Scapegrace scanned the room, frantically. She spotted a window at the far end of the room. Grabbing a coat rack, she smashed a hole in the window. She looked out from the window sill, spotting the open roof of an adjacent house. Scapegrace brandished a four pronged hook fastened to a length of rope, and swiftly locked it into a harness on the inside of her jacket. She pressed down on a lever on the pulley attached to the rope and the grappling hook glided through the air as she threw it onto the peak of the roof. Releasing the lever, the pulley locked the rope into place, and Scapegrace leapt into the air, swinging towards the open building.

Bra-crumble! The grappling hook sent the peak of the roof crumbling down as she swung. She barely made the jump, spinning out onto the floor as she crashed against the ground.

“Son of a bitch... I didn't sign up for any of this.”

The red moon shimmered down on the town, illuminating the night. Scapegrace, gasping, threw herself to the crumbling side of the building. “I always thought I wanted to see the moon, but you are going to get me killed.” She said to herself. She had survived this far by some friendly shadows that hid her from the insanity of blood curdling raiders, but the light cast down ruined her defensive flash flare. The raider scrambled down below through the streets, shooting and hollering. There were so many of them, it was a nightmare. Her nightmare. “This is what it must have been like... it’s the raid of New Maretropolis.” She didn't have time to stand still, she slammed a hoof against the side of the house.

She slunk to the far side the building. It wasn't even a thought for her to snag a holodisk and a magazine along the way. “I just wanted to mess around in some ruins, make something of my time... I'm just going to get myself killed.” She raised her hoof to look at the compass strapped to it. “I need to get out of here.”

As she oriented herself to the south, a shudder ran through her body.

Gardens

She shook her head. “It’s not here. It's not worth any of that.”

Failure

She turned back to the heart of the war zone. She couldn't know that it was there, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility. It might be there... She had heard it mentioned, and that meant it must have existed, and that was way more than anypony figured. Still, was it worth chasing the ghost of a promise? The slightest sliver of hope at that salvation echoed at the back of her mind. It was torture. “I can't. This is suicide.”

Scape Disgrace.

It should have been enough. The MoM logs were plenty valuable on their own... but they weren't a miracle, and she knew that. 'Nothing good comes from sacrifice.' She chanted in her head.

If it was a matter of sacrifice, things would have been easier on her. There were plenty of dangerous places to sacrifice one’s self to in the wasteland. Even if she had sacrificed so much, sacrifices didn’t finish a mission. ‘I can’t turn back… can I?’ She thought reluctantly. 'Why did those two idiots have to run off on their own. This is going to get me killed, but if they were here, at least it might be a little bit of fun.'

‘I’m thinking like Tumbleweed… like that infuriating, irresponsible idiot!’ The thought made her tense. Had I been there, I might have been humbled. ‘This is his fault. He’s a card carrying lunatic! He’s the type to go galloping to his own death, and be happy about it! If I start thinking like him, it’s going to get me killed, too.’ Scapegrace gritted her teeth as she grew even more red underneath her shroud. As she took a sigh, the little pony inside her head posed an insidious question.

‘Do you like him?’

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Scapegrace blurted out loud. Realizing the mistake immediately, she ducked down, before looking around. There was a quiet moment despite the ambient sounds of battle in the distance.

‘Hey, I just ask the important questions…’

‘Listen, you… or me… that ratty vagabond is going to get himself killed recreationally. There is nothing remotely attractive about a dead pony…’

‘Dead sexy pony, maybe…’ her id fired back. Scapegrace burned into an embarrassed pink tone before ramming her head into the wall, as if to try to beat it out of her head.

‘That’s it, I’m leaving this stupid town....’ Scapegrace thought before taking a moment to breath, collecting herself and emptying her mind.

She was quick to scan for movement, especially keen to spot any moving shadows. Ponies ran from street to street, but they were too busy killing each other to notice her, let alone look up enough to see her. The moon was doing quite a lot of work in trying to get her killed, but it was what she was stuck with so it might as well help keep her alive for what little it could.

She peered out from the time-rent windowsill across an empty alleyway. Above and below, it was clear, at least for a moment. Amid the ripping sounds of gunfire in the distance, the sounds of her movements would become muted. Lifting herself onto the windowsill, she jumped across the divide onto a brick ledge. She had some latent weight reduction magic leftover from before, making her leap much less terrifying despite the distance. The ledge held sturdy, but the window was barred up. Wrapping her hooves around the bars, she climbed up, pulling herself to the roof.

It wasn’t the highest place in the town, but by the moonlight, it was a great vantage point.As Scapegrace looked out towards the edges of the town, her face took a grayish blue tint. ‘Another failure, huh?’ She thought.

Simply thinking the thought made her shudder. There was so much expected of her, yet so little she ever had to show for it. She was cursed, being born into that lineage. ‘Your mother was genius, so was your father, as well as your grandmother… so naturally you were chosen for such an important task.’ she thought. She cringed under the weight. It was the torch she was expected to carry into the future, but it felt like too much to carry. Why did they have to place their hopes on her? She turned back towards the center of the town, seeing raiders crawling from cover to cover, the fires, the sounds of gunfire and screams, and the strange lurking shades. It looked a lot like death, and death was hungry, waiting for a feast. It screamed in her mind as something idiotic. ‘But think about all there is to gain? Everything you’ve been searching for… no, what every crystal pony was praying for, might be right in front of you. It could be here. By the end of the night, it may be trashed into pieces beyond any recognition.’

Hope was a bitch.

She looked over her shoulder across the town. ‘There is no guarantee it is there, or that it survived the war. I can’t die over a dream.’ She slunk across the rooftop before lowering herself into a hang against the wall. Looking back, she took a breath to prepare to leap to the ledge opposite her. As she readied herself, the little pony in her head whispered something.

‘Hey… do you like him?’

The thought hit her mid jump, as she catapulted herself into the wall. She stumbled to maintain balance, both physically and mentally. She grabbed her throbbing snout, which had kissed the wall. ‘Traitor! We had an agreement! No more of those thoughts!’

‘Yeah, I know, but do you like him?’

Scapegraced cursed herself. Her brain seemed to have a mind of its own, and that was the worst part about it. Still, she couldn’t imagine how bad it would be not to have one. ‘I’m kinda busy! Go back to all that self-doubt and anxiety stuff would you? At least that might help keep me alive!’ She thought.

‘I will, but before that, just answer the question. Come on, I’m curious, and I'm you, so do us a favor.’

Scapegrace could tell her snout was bleeding, and the pain only made her more furious. ‘I’m not going to confuse being in a dangerous situation with infatuation. Stop bugging me on this!’ Calypto just had to ask those stupid questions before.

‘Come on, you’re a crystal pony! It’s in your blood.’

‘You’re going to get me killed!’

‘Question: Which do you prefer? Dying in his hooves, or dying alone and cold, and possibly insane?’

“Shut up! That pony is loud, obnoxious, and never got quite the beating he deserved for saying I looked like ghoul when we first met.”

‘Hear me out… if you died in his hooves, you would be close enough to hit him in the face… or anything else you might want to do with his face.’

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up!’ She forgot where she was for a moment. She stepped back, but there was nothing there. Scapegrace flailed to try to reclaim her balance, but her movement only delayed the inevitable fall.

Falling was a talent, and one she luckily had. She caught the top half of her body against the roof of a shed a few feet below. The shed refused to hold the strain, shifting under her weight, its original rectangular form slowly skewing into a parallelogram before collapsing upon itself, sending old bottles, cans, and tools across the ground.

‘Failure…’ the word swirled in her head as she hugged her gut in pain. She didn’t have any major injuries, but the damage to her pride was vibrant. As she fumbled on the ground, her ears perked up at a strange set of noises. They were voices. Crude voices inching closer and closer to her location.

“And when I’m the raider king, we are going to get like... all the bitches!”

“Like how many bitches boss? Like 10 of them?”

“More than that!”

A motley crew of ragged raiders turned the corner. There were four of them in total, with as many bastards with horns as there were without. Their armor, if you could call it that, was built from all manner of artifacts of the old world, irreverently repurposed, but lovingly sewn together as if it were a part of their own pride. It was a tacky array of make-shift wonder that triumphantly clashed with any sort of order, especially in terms of color.

“Like twelve bitches?” said the bald pony with a horn poking out from above a pair of oval goggles.

“Yeah, twelve whole bitches.” The golden haired earth pony said as he gripped an aged stalk of grass between his teeth. He had the face of a real douchebag.

“That’s pretty insane. Are there even that many bitches in the wasteland? I’ve never seen that many in my entire life.” Said another unicorn with helmet adorned with a saw blade on the top.

“It’ll be the biggest harem… Whoa, what is that?” said the overweight earth pony with folds of flesh bursting out of the gaps in his armor.

The group turned towards Scapegrace.

“Well, well, well. Look what we got here?” The golden haired raider said as a sickening smile spread across his face. “You’re a pretty one.” He said, his eyes panning up and down Scapegraces body as she had gotten up. “How about we have a little bit of fun?”

Scapegrace sneered, her twitching cheek now visible as her cover had fallen from her face. She stared at them for a moment. A strange concoction of emotions washed over her. Was it fear? What would she do next? Were they really that dumb? They appeared to be wondrously dumb, but that seemed impossible. Were they just not creative enough? It was super cliché, from the beginning to the end of its execution. This was a surreal experience for Scapegrace. As the giggling mob approached, she rolled her eyes.

The boss’s pupils dilated at the gesture. He spat out the blade of grass from his mouth. “That bitch!”

Scapegrace was beginning to wonder whether that was good or bad by their standards.

“Did you fucking see that!?” The golden haired boss screamed as spit erupted from his lips before latching a hoof around the goggle faced unicorn. “She rolled her fucking eyes at us!” He continued blasting. “She’s dead. It’s over. I’ve gotta kill ‘er!” He yelled as the goggle raider as he held his mouth tightly shut so as not to take in any unwanted spit. The boss bucked his legs, cocking the guns in his battle saddle. “Get ready to die, bitch!”

“but, boss-liege…!” The goggle pony called out flailing blindly behind spit covered lenses.

The overweight pony dashed in, plowing his girth into the golden haired raider, throwing his aim off enough for the buckshot glide harmlessly past Scapegrace as she escaped into the hole made by the shed.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Think of the harem boss!” The large pony screamed, tears rolling down his face.

“No, she has to die!”

“Forgive me, my lord…” The goggles raider said as he wiped the spit from his lenses. “But he has a point!” He adjusted his goggles as he looked up toward the infinite skies, the light of the moon reflecting off of the lenses. “In this strange mysterious world, there are only so many bitches… if we kill this one, how many will be left for our harem?”

“Damn it, you do have a point!” The boss said as he furrowed his brow. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Damn it, she is a bad one, like all those raider bitches, and raider bitches are the worst kind of bitches for a harem.”

“But my lord! Think of the harem! It is our unified dream! Our utopia! Can we at least fuck her?” The goggles pony pleaded as the gold haired pony bucked and flailed trying to free himself.

“Hey, I had a crazy idea… so hear me out.” The helmeted pony said as he coughed. “What if we killed her, and then fucked her.”

The boss’s eyes widened in childlike wonderment. “You’re a genius! I knew I kept you around for a reason!”

“Hey, boss. Where did she go?” The big pony asked as he looked around.

“She badgered off!”

Sweat rolled down Scapegrace’s face as she carefully picked away at the lock. She hadn’t gotten very far before hitting the locked door, but they were stupid enough to argue for so long. She figured she might be able to pull it off, but the stress was getting to her. 'Failure.' Again, one bad move after another, she knew she was just going to get herself killed. After another careful movement the tumblers slipped into place. Bursting into a frantic shake as she scrambled with the knob, she escaped through the door.

“There she goes!”

“Chase after that dead mare’s booty!”

They were pathetic, but they were armed with weapons, and that made them enough of a threat. Scapegrace slammed the door behind her before locking it once more. With haste, she fled through the hallway towards the kitchen as she heard the raiders slamming their hooves against the door. Then came the sounds of splintering wood. Scapegrace nervously peeked out behind her only to see the plus sized pony barreling through the door.

“Pussy~!” He screamed as he began to slow down. Inertia overcame momentum as the pony heaved in a desperate attempt to get air into his lungs. The other three passed over the giant pony, as Scapegrace bolted toward the next room.

With nimble movements, Scapegrace vaulted across a long table, her hooves skating across the moldy floor boards. Launching the table back with buck, the dominos of chairs and upturned furniture set askew in the chaos crafted a split-second obstacle to give her enough time to make her escape. Or perhaps even a time to strike?

Scapegrace turned on a heel, drawing the submachine gun from her satchel. She could feel the piercing gazes crawling over her, both lust and bloodlust. The cocktail was disgusting. Out of primal impulse, she bit down on the trigger, but it didn’t depress!

‘Damn it, Forgot the safety!’ the thought passed quickly across her mind. It took only a moment to flick the switch. With that ear shattering rumble, bullets exploded out the short muzzle in ballistic haze. She arched the gunfire across the room.

The second of warning provided in her struggle with the safety gave enough time for counter action. The wave of lead managed to only clip two of them as the raiders ducked around cover.

‘Failure…’

As Scapegrace drew her line of fire across, the golden maned raider leapt to the side. As he rolled across the ground, he rocked his body into position for a gutsy shot.

Set off by a frantic nerve, Scapegrace dodged to the side as buckshot slashed the air beside her flank where she had been standing, blasting through an old cabinet. Splinters spewed into the air, kicking up a centuries worth of dust.

“Don’t shooty the booty, boss! We need that!”

“Where am I supposed to shoot then?”

“In the face, boss! The face!”

Scapegrace slipped into the next hallway with panic in her breath. Had she only hit two of them? All those bullets wasted! She had held the trigger too long. All because of that little slip up. ‘Failure’, she thought.

“Looks like she has a bit of fight in her.” The helmeted raider said as he held his wound.

“Good. Good! I like it when they squirm!” The boss said as a long drip of drool poured from his mouth.

Galloping fast, she climbed through a window to the open street. She climbed up to a first story ledge. The weight talisman had helped in that.

“There she goes, Boss, milord!”

“This is too much running!”

“Guys, can I get some medical attention?”

“Give her chase! We aren’t going to let some bitch play rough like that!”

The boss nearly collided full sail with the window as his comrades piled in. Pushing the goggles raider aside, he made his way through the portal. Searching, sniffing, listening, he scanned the alley, quickly. “There, she is!” He smiled as he spotted Scapegrace climbing over an old wall.

The boss took point as the goggles raider followed, both with eager red eyes. They passed over a small sizzling container. Scapegrace ducked down.

There was a sudden flash, and a bursting sound. A group of small deformed nails lodged themselves midway into the wall she had hidden behind.

Looking down, she saw the two, now splashing in their own pooling blood. The goggles pony was shivering, flailing as his perforated legs oozed. “My… liege! B-boss! Ahhhhhhghhh, what happened?... I can’t see.” His words were quiet and airy, as if it was all he could manage.

Even as the ponies wallowed in pain, she thought to herself, ‘I only killed two?!’ It had been a last ditch effort, the nail bomb. It was a wonderful bit of handicraft, but its mediocre performance left a bad taste in her mouth. Now, she had nothing left, and there were still countless raiders out there. It practically made her decision for her. She was powerless. She was always powerless, she thought. Even if the miracle could be found inside, she was still a failure.

When Scapegrace looked back up, she trembled as a tense drop of sweat trickled down her neck.

The golden maned pony moved. His flesh swayed and folded in bizarre ways, becoming more ‘thing’ than ‘pony’. The blood that poured from it took an iridescent glow, tainting the dark pool as the blood touched it. Crunching and boiling sounds could be heard from inside the corpse.

“Boss…” The goggles pony gasped.

The creature hesitated for a second, almost as if to listen. A splash of boiling blood spurted from a bulging cavity around the neck. It heaved as if to puke, as a tumor on the side of its shoulder expanded with a guttural movement.

The creature jostled the mouth in experimentation. After some playing around, it muttered a strange word. “J-jo-j-joi-joi-join.”

A bony spike lashed out from the growing bulge, bouncing the raider off the ground as it skewered him. The creature wretched as the retracting spike dragged the limp corpse along with it. With a ponderous hoof, it scrapped itself free of the corpse.

Scapegrace watched, half in wonder, half in horror. They were magnificent, terrifying creatures that eluded or maybe even frolicked in death. Where did they come from? Anything that puked violent spears had to be from the prewar. It was a safe bet. You had to be a crazy world destroying pony to come up with this kind of stuff. ‘This is why I should leave.’ She thought. ‘I can’t fight raiders, let alone those… things. Staying here in this nightmare? It’s suicide.’ She sighed. ‘There are kinder ways to kill yourself.’

'You know you don't have much time left...what's wrong with that?' The voice inside her said.

“Help!” A voice called out. Scapegrace turned to see the portly pony caught halfway through the window, nicely wedged in place. The pony struggled furiously, but a trickle of blood had dripped down a shard of glass that held his torso at the window sill.

The second nightmare shuddered at the ground as the first stumbled towards the noisy howls. A chill fell down Scapegrace’s spine. It would be a slaughter. Even so she couldn’t turn away as she heard the unfortunate raider panic.

The large raider craned his body to look behind him. “I’m stuck! You gotta help me.”

The helmet pony stood back, shaking his head while edging away in a limp. “No… Fuck... I don’t want to die!”

The large pony’s eyes swelled as he heard the last words he would hear from a friend.

“Forgive me.” Helmet pony said before escaping down the hallway.

A porous rotting hoof forced the large pony’s tear leaking head to turn around. The creature locked foreheads with him as two deep holes swallowed the corpse’s original eyes. “This world…” The creature awkwardly sputtered. “…has curdled- Ro…tten. Come with us.”

The large pony threw a hoof across the jaw of the creature, torquing the macabre abomination's head in a circle, as if to snap its neck. Despite the twisting spine, the nightmare held a deadlocked gaze. Glowing veins stretched across the fat pony's jaws before the bones snapped. The pony tried to manage its drooping jaw, letting out muffled howls.

'Some kind of magic feedback attack? Damn... how do you even fight that?'

“It’s a ba-aad wo-world... old...” The creature spoke. “Y-you... oh want to be free of of it. We will free everypony. We will make it clean.”

‘Was it learning?’ Scapegrace questioned. ‘No, it already knew the words… Not a parasite, is it necromancy?’

“Free of it!” The creature almost grinned. Glowing blood poured from its maw. “We too, wish to be-e-e free!” The creature adjusted its mouth, which had lengthened, with new teeth taking root from the new gums. “Better. We wish to be free of it.” The creature slowly stretched its probing spike it had used to kill the other pony along the large pony’s face. “Help us, help you. Be free... Join.”

The tendril slithered down the pony’s throat. His skin flexed and bent as the raider seized. A bouquet of blades pierced the torso, turning and grinding, allowing a cocktail of visceral fluid to pour from his holes.

Scapegrace was pale in fear. Curiosity would only get her killed. What hope did she have of surviving this town? ‘What a joke!’ she thought to herself. ‘The wasteland demands sacrifices. It eats and devours. Nopony could beat that.’

She sat in quivering fear for a moment. Wasteland washed over her, and she felt insignificant. Her crystalline coat became dull and matted. She would give up. Before she turned away, a mare strut in laughing.

“Where do these shits keep coming from? It’s like they are crawling out of the woodwork. Ugly son’s of bitches, too. They look like they got chewed up and spat out. Hey, if they keep coming up, I’ll keep kill’n ‘em.” She had a defiantly styled electric blue mohawk with a sour apple coat. She had reflective silver jacket with yellow trimming that shined unabashedly in the moonlight.

Three of the horrendous monsters now turned towards to the lone mare. Scapegrace couldn’t help but worry for the her. “Join.” They demanded, just as they had before.

“Tch!” The mare clicked her tongue in offense. She took on a sickening grin as she walked forward, ignorant of the threat and fear.

‘Get away… just get away…’ Scapegrace wanted to scream, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Despite it all, the lone mare charged in. Scapegrace couldn’t watch. She turned to walk away. She didn't need to watch to know what would happen... Before she could slip away, she heard a peculiar sound.

VRA-Vra-Vryyym--VRAVRA VRHRAAAANNNNNNNG!

The sound pulled Scapegrace back to the edge of the wall. That was not the sound of slaughter… well, actually it very well might have been, but it was a different kind of slaughter. Welcome to the wasteland, where you have to make that distinction.

Even as the creature flailed, the mare wove between the tentacles and claws untouched. From the ripper jutting out of her elbow, a whirring chain tore through the nightmare’s outstretched arm with its cascading blades. The glowing, boiling blood siphoned out, splattering onto the mare and the surrounding area, but somehow, it didn’t seem to hurt her. Shouldn’t it have been hot? It wasn’t pressure boiling, from what scapegrace knew. ‘So, it is alchemical, huh?’

“Join, join, join! That’s all you guys say!” The intrepid mare in silver said. “Conforming isn’t really my rhythm, particularly when you all are so damn revolting. Sorry, Cool-aid, I don’t want you to rubbing off on me. You’ll cramp my style.”

The creature tried to lock eyes, but she simply looked away. It was like something else had her attention. She could see something. Was she distracted? Was she just smart? Or maybe there was something else worth looking at?

The first nightmare grew a new segmented leg, clawing ponderously across the ground. With a fan of rib-like blade, the morphing creature swung in, but the strikes simply swiped the air. She had disappeared. They had passed through her. No! She hadn’t done any of that. Even as the attacks came in, she had glided in and out around the attacks.

Four blades protruding out and down, like a sharply-angled scythe, were affixed to the mare’s left hoof. With it, she clawed into one of the abominations, dragging it along by its flesh. She whirled the creature around by her claw, sending the glowing gore splattering to the ground.

...But there were more of them. Another one of the creatures had slunk up around to her flank (the tactical kind). The abomination swung its deformed face at the mare. The creature had collected the nails that had punctured the raiders body, now internalizing them, as they burst from the monster's head.

The mare spun, throwing the first nightmare into the attack, letting the nails bury deep into it. She forced both of them into the wall. It was like a dance to her.

“One question...” The mare laughed as she leaned into the stack of monsters. “Do you even know how to kill?” She leaned into the beasts with judgmental glare. “Your technique is amatuer.” She laughed. “Keep at it. Practice makes perfect.”

Even after such an assault, the monsters bent and moved again as if immune to pain and free of death. They were impossible to defeat… but, for that mare it didn’t matter. In a furious dance of death, she clawed through the creatures despite their attempts to retaliate. she slammed a hoof down, imploding one of the creature’s skulls against the wall, although it was questionable if that even did anything.

The mare dragged the pair along the wall. “I traveled half a wasteland to fight champions, but all I get is you half-cap bastards. What a waste of time.” The mare dragged her ripper across them, halving their size. “Go back to hell. Come back when you are ready for the wasteland.”

Scapegrace looked on in awe. A word came to mind for what she saw. ‘Genius’. Not in the way of being smart... Scapegrace had all of the intellect, but it didn’t seem to help her. This madmare made something suicidal seem easy. She reminded Scapegrace of somepony.

‘…you like him?’ the question popped in among her thoughts. Scapegrace slammed her head against the partial wall in front of her
.

“Why do you fight? Sunless waifs… forsaken. Join… ess-sscape… this bleakness.” The third creature mumbled from its dislodged jaws. The alchemical blood had formed new, gnarly bone-like spikes across its limbs. The structure of the limbs changed, from muscle structure to its joints. Despite its clumsy motions, it swung its arms as bloody flails with power.

The bone flails whipped towards the raider mare, but in a fluid motion, she rolled around the attack, and with a flurry of kicks and strikes, she bashed the creature to the opposite wall. “Bleak? Let me give you a lesson in wasteland sunshine...” She pulled a rail spike from a bandolier around her hind hooves. “I’m gonna brighten your world. Hahaha...”

“Savvy!” A voice called from around the corner.

She didn't seem to notice. Bracing the mutant's head against the brick, she tossed the rail spike into the air. As it spun into position, she hammered the spike through the creature’s neck, affixing it to the wall. She did this three more times, even as the creature struggled, pinning it’s limbs to the wall.

“Savage Frisket!” A voice called out again. A pair of raiders turned the corner, in Technicolor armor. They sacked the other pair of mutant creatures, striking from behind and pinning them to the ground.

“Not now, I’m gonna make this one pretty!” The mare said.

As the large nightmare struggled against the wall, Savage let the chain run on her weapon. Splattering and buzzing sounds resonated as she sawed open the creatures rib cage. With a powerful buck, she rent the cavity open, revealing a glimmering sea of grossly altered organs.

Most notably was the bulging, expanded heart, with nearly a dozen new valves built into it and lumbering new arteries filling up much of the body. Savage Frisket stared at the heart, watching it as it pulsed. After some time, she sliced open two of the arteries, as the still beating heart pumped out the glowing blood. Savage unstrapped the wide metal dish from her saddlebag and pressed it up to the bleeding heart, collecting the shimmering fluid.

It was hard for Scapegrace to watch. Despite it being some kind of aberration, the semblance to a pony made it hard for the mind to think of it differently; however, it was a fascinating process to watch. It seemed so pointless at first, as it didn’t seem to show signs of pain, but as the blood flowed out of the creature, the mutations visibly slowed down. Savage had made a mockery of this terrifying creature, as nothing more than a crazy raider. She was brilliant, so different from the pony Scapegrace knew herself to be. Scapegrace was frozen in awe of her confidence and ability.

Savage grinned as the creature’s transforming properties seemed to slow. It continued to flail, but less so as she stripped its muscles. “oooh, idea!” She mumbled as she ripped the heart out of the husk of the creature. With another rail spike, she pinned the heart at the corner of a window above her. Then she did something peculiar. She pulled out a role of blue tape. With several lengths of tape, she made lines radiating from the heart, pointing toward the pinned cadaver. She then pulled out a sawed-off shot gun, but the strange thing about it was that it was that it hardly had a muzzle at all. It didn’t seem to be for combat. Her horn glowed as she levitated the device up to the heart, cautious of the exact positioning. The gun exploded, splattering visceral fluid out from the heart.

It seemed like mindless brutality, but when the strips of tape were removed, the dazzling design was present. The glowing blood had made rays of sunlight across the wall.

In a few moments, Savage song had turned to the two remaining nightmares as she massaged her bloodstained hooves maniacally. Savage’s raiders kicked the creatures around. There was a distinct change of atmosphere about the creatures now. They seemed to shiver.

The first aberrant seemed to flail about frantically, hissing to get them to go away. The second monster tried to scoot away from the raiders. “No-no-no-no, no, no, no…” it chanted in all manners of different rhythms as the two mooks grabbed it. The profane mutant carved the ground as they dragged it, chanting changed as it got closer to the wall, “Stoo...stop... Stop! Stop it! Stop!”

Scapegrace’s ears perked up as she watched. It had appeared that in the building around her, other spectators had turned up. It was an inspiring sight for others as well.

“What is she doing?”

“I dunno. I think it’s supposed to be art.”

“Must be modern.”

Turning back from the peanut gallery, Scapegrace watched as the last mutant thing swiped back and forth with a sickle-like claw.

“You can not... defeat us.” The nightmare said. It seemed to have some grasp over how to apply the language. It took a strong pose, but as the raiders stepped forward, it inched back. “We will… cleanse this… world… and…” The creature fumbled back again. “Fear us.” It said swinging it’s jittering claw.

In a single swipe, Frisket sliced through the bone in the claw to the monster’s dismay.

“I don’t want to go on the wall!” The monster said in a pathetic plea.

Savage saw to it that the stakes were driven well into the walls. Veins were drained, hearts were plucked, and the monsters became more docile. She produced several squirt bottles from her bag. As she pooled blood into the wide metal dish, she applied the contents of the bottles and mixed them. The blood took on a variety of vibrant colors, and with them she began to paint. She was fast, taking only a few moments to survey the open space before dragging colors across the empty wall. As putrid as it was, it was captivating.

“I think I am going to title this one ‘Sunshine of the heart’.” Savage said with a smile, placing a hoof over her heart as she looked back on her creation.

Scapegrace sank deeper into the shadows. The great question ran through her mind again. ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Run, wasn’t that obvious?’ She thought instinctively. ‘You’re not a hero. Don’t kid yourself…’ It made sense in her mind, after all, this place was going to be suicide. Wasn’t it?

Something about that argument didn’t seem as convincing to her anymore. The danger was real, but it was not absolute. Seeing the raiders had cleared away a veil. Survival was possible, she had seen it with her own eyes! She could not ignore the possibility anymore. ‘How many times will danger be a valid excuse for coming back with empty hooves?’ She thought to herself.

‘As many times as it is necessary…’

As the thought came to her, she realized she had tears rolling down her cheeks. Still, she thought that something was wrong with that statement. What were those tears for? Instinctual, perhaps? Crying for the suicide she had been galloping towards?

Scapegrace cursed to herself. ‘Tears don’t solve problems.’ She thought to herself. Regardless of any resolve, her mind and body never seemed to listen. She gritted her teeth as she started to lose control of the color in her body.

This was bigger than herself. A duty was on her shoulders and it weighed heavily. That was why it hurt so much, right? She couldn’t give up with so many crystal ponies counting on her, right?

But she was also the last of a legacy of geniuses. All her training would be wasted if she died. Dying would help nopony. How could she sacrifice it all like that? That would be the utmost stupidity.

I’m not saying it’s not stupid, I’m just saying that if we are going to do something stupid we should do it in the most intelligent way possible…

‘Do you like him?’ The pony in her head asked, once again.

Scapegrace yelled in fury. ‘No! Shut up! I don’t care! I hate that stupid bastard, stop asking me stupid…' Scapegrace caught herself in thought for a moment. 'wait..” Scapegrace grimaced.

‘That isn’t the question you’re asking at all…’ she thought to herself.

‘The real question… it’s not about him, or duty, or vengeance for mom and dad, or any of that.’ She closed her eyes.

‘Do I like myself?’

The pony in her head grinned a little bit.

‘That’s what you…er… what I’ve been trying to get at is. Because the answer is “no”…’ She thought. ‘If I leave, I’ll keep being haunted by this, because I know it’s possible. I want to be like Tumbleweed, or that raider. They don’t seem to be afraid. I want to be like them.’

‘Guess you figured it out? What now?’ the pony in my head replied.

‘Tumbleweed had a point. If I’m going to do something crazy, then I need to have a plan.’

‘You can’t do it. You have no armor, no weapons, no bullets. You don’t have anything! Why don’t you just run back home, failure?’ The pony in her head fired back spitefully.

‘I’m not running… I think I can do this, that’s why I’m pissed… I’m smart, I can figure this out.’ Scapegrace furrowed her brow as she looked up at the blood red moon. ‘So, shut up already.’

And with that, Scapegrace’s imaginary friend shut the hell up. With a clear head, she set out into the streets again. This time, the shadows seemed to come to her. Back at the town hall, she had seen the blueprints of the MAS building, and the notes had revealed that there was an additional entrance in the basement of an old library in the town. That would be her goal. Stay out of sight! Enter into hell, but don't get caught in the fire!

Diving high and low across the night over and through the battle-ridden streets of Ponyville seemed so much easier. Soon enough, she had found herself in front of that so-called ‘library’. The building was strange, as it seemed to be carved out of a tree. An empty balcony seemed to beckon for somepony to read on it.

As Scapegrace approached the portal way, something shifted in the dark. The slender coils of flesh had pulled itself in front of the doorway with a grizzly claw. The deep bores in it’s face stared to her, but Scapegrace averted her eyes.

“Die for us... for everypony.” It said.

A bony blade lashed out at her. The creature laughed as the blade pierced through her chest, pulling out quickly.

But what the creature was unaware of was the shimmering light that siphoned through her hooves that braced against the monster. A mote of light gleamed from her wound, as the blood sewed her body back together.

“I’m surprised... you all use this magic so… inefficiently.” She said, as her hoof began to twist into a crystalline blade. As a trickle of blood came from her eyes, she sliced the creature from her path.

*** *** ***