When somepony sat at a campfire, what was the first thing they thought of. What was the first thing they did. It was usually a mixed response, but Grins knew exactly what they thought about. Food was their first priority. Food and fire went hoof-in-hoof. It wasn't a big deal, but she missed having a flame wherever she went. Not the silver lighter in her small pack, but a genuine blowtorch or one of those gorgeous flamers . Where was her Arson when she beckoned for flame one more time, to taste forbidden fruits of horse haunch sautéed in misery and seasoned with screams. Where did all that go. She sighed wistfully and spoke to her corpse friend, who lay beside her. She'd never had a real friend before. They would always stab her in the back, sometimes literally, but mostly with betrayal. They all stayed for some amount of time. But they all left sooner or later.

"Hey, Buddy. You comfortable back there? You know, I've been thinking... I don't remember much of this past year or any year before that honestly. Do you think I have a memory problem?" She hushed, glancing back at his lifeless, glazed eyes.

Just like all the other times, the dead spoke in whispers beneath sound. She could hear it in her head, like reading but without a voice to interpret emotionally. It blanketed her simple mind in whimsy and comfort. It was something she missed about speaking to the deceased.

'Of course not. It's all in your mind. Literally. What you should be doing is finding ways to send Apfel Schnapps to the void. And you can ask Father where to take shortcuts. Offer a sacrament. Hurry.'

Well, okay, she told the voice in the corpse. She'd find a sacrifice. But who. And where. The wind blew west, in the same direction of Jail Seed. It took her a moment to notice microscopic traces of light in the distant night. Grins took out her binoculars and felt her jaw drop in pleasant surprise. Not half an hour or so away, if she stalked and prowled, there were ponies around a campfire. Following one of the more garish ones, she first noticed that his armor consisted of clothing scraps, some costume leather and a firemare's helmet. Secondly, she spotted a young female in a white, torn dress being ravaged. The space between her legs was crimson and bloodied by dry, muddy stains. That wasn't fair. They got to have sex and she didn't get any pleasure out of it. Sex was not some one-sided activity that was just casually abused. It was one of life's simplest pleasures.

"Buddy. I'm going over there. Stay safe. And be good, I'll be back in a bit." Hushed the mare, setting her pack down and accounting for all the items.

There was barbed wire, an unmodified .22lr pistol, some .22 ammunition and some duct tape. Well, it could be worse. She could have been in an area without some arid tree life. There were still some husks and skeletons of radiation-afflicted trees. And that would make a big difference. How Grins went about it was not cautiously in the least. It wasn't before long that the raiders assembled in their cozy, makeshift campsite were perking their ears and snouts up toward subtle noise. The five amassed near their victim boasted about how anypony dumb enough to fight them would be split apart by buckshot. That was, of course, before they heard a sort of uneasy... laugh. Listening to the faint, yet approaching noise of shrill, hyena-esque giggling did nothing but keep them jittery. What was it. It sounded like a pony but what the fuck was it.

Their most muscular and athletic member started talking.

"It's just a scare-tactic. It ain't a monster or anything like that. And even if it is, we can shoot it down with our shotties, okay? I guarantee you we can."

At least half of them tried to steel themselves, gulping harshly against the dry and biting ash filling their open mouths. What was it, or who was it, seemed irrelevant. All four were at the ready with their combat shotguns and pump shotguns, wearing bandoilers full of bullets. And the most muscular wore a few grenades at his hip, just behind and into his cheeks. The noise, much like a hyena or a twisted monster laughing at his newest victim, sped toward them. When they heard the sound of galloping hooves, their nerves cooled significantly and left them more lax. Shooting was about nerves. Just breathe and pull the trigger, they all repeated.

What they saw made them completely pale. A mare with some sort of lifeless canine head manifested from the edge of the badlands shadows. The neck portion synthesizing her savage jawline and pony fur seemed ripped off, but sticking against her coat. Her long snout and sharp, feral jaws had another pair of teeth on the inside. In an instant, they fired without another thought, spraying it with buckshot. And, oddly... that's when the beast died in a perpetual crouch, it's organs licking the dirt below.

"Hey, guys, I'm all out of shells." Sighed their leader, turning back to meet them.

"Good." Grins elated, clapping her hooves and springing up from behind the body.

Before they could reload, she fired little bursts of .22lr rounds at their throats and knees. It was a struggle to stay conscious, much less up when their knees collapsed from such trauma. The throat injuries followed severe, lethal blood spurts. And that was when circulation was cut from the brain. Only a moment passed when Grins was stricken by the butt of the alpha's combat shotgun. A black, vile effluvium trickled down her snout and hissed against the dead soil. Her scowl, from being struck at all, lit ablaze with an animate, almost sparkling display of teeth. Instead of firing her weapon, she holstered it for the last colt standing.

"You wanna die that badly?!" Her enemy barked, infuriated at his buckling knees and tight, stabbing stomach aches.

While she pulled out her barbed wire, which was at least a belt's length in measurement, the stallion presented a hunting knife made out of a sharpened bugbear stinger tip, an ice pick handle, some duct tape and linen bandages for better grip. Although the alpha male advanced slowly, he worked up enough confidence to grin and toss a few threats her way. He'd do what he did to the other mare and slice the baby right out of her. He'd turn her into a pet and shoot her knees out. The way he stalked, his shoulders puffed and both forelegs curled at just the right angle to blare his machismo bravado.

And that's when she started giggling again. When she started laughing at him, cackling and kekking. She was having trouble breathing, he bull rushed the bitch. His grin grew wider as he felt feedback on the hilt of his poisoned shiv. That was when he realized the feedback was his blade caught in her barbed wire garrote. A moment passed before his eyes went wide and he felt the Stinger Shank slip weakly from his hooves. Chilling, silvery metal pressed just where his neck and head melded together. He swallowed his words when Grins pocketed his knife.

"Careful with that edge. You might cut yourself on it."

A rapid burst of crackling gunpowder made the world go black. In total, six rounds were stuffed tightly into his cranium. The sweet gush of red and grey matter stained her barrel. And for the first time ever, she felt a different triumph glancing back at the mare in binds. Fresh, thick tears slid down her cheeks and mingled with the dried blood. And below that were her bruises. Her scars and infected cuts all over her nubile flesh.

"Poor girl... I've spilled enough blood already, haven't I...?" She soothed, unable to look away from them.

The inanimate corpse peered into Grins with empty sockets.

'That is sufficient. For tonight. Do not waste this bounty. Father doesn't want this one, Bubblegum. So you can keep her...'

Oh boy, she hushed excitedly, clapping her hooves together. It terrified her captive audience. Who was she. What was she going to do. The mare in the white dress shook her head and choked out little creaks of what used to be begging. Her squeaking register only made her captor rush over to squeeze and hold her. Whatever she wanted, that broken and torn dress wouldn't protect her. She accepted that her limbs stopped working when they stopped feeding her. And that was why she closed her eyes, unable to fight the one setting her into bed and

kissing her forehead...?

"I've always wanted to do this- wait, let me see, you should lift your dress up a little so I can get in the mood~" Rambled Grins, beaming her wide and ecstatic grin.

What? The mare in the white dress could at least feel that thing pinning her into position. Sure, she wasn't pressing against her and their forelegs were to the sides of her shoulders, but she couldn't say no. With burning, tingling heat coursing through her itching loins, she looked away and lifted the hem of her skirt just barely over one, puffy pubic mound. Grins enjoyed watching her grit her teeth. Bubblegum loved observing her facial twitches when she brushed along their inner-thighs. It perked her ears skyward when the mare beneath her trembled, scrunching their lips or letting loose her breath. At first, she felt right about claiming her spoils. That was before she glimpsed again at the dried blood between her legs.

Her cherry blossom eyes waxed wide.

They were hurting her.

A single tear fell off her cheek and against the mare below her. When she shed another tear, her eyes flooded with dull, blurry water. She clung against her and said she was sorry she didn't find her sooner. A steady, hurtful chain of sobs cut her breath away. By the time Bubblegum started sniffling and trying to swallow her choppy, disjointed words, she felt her holding back. They wiped her tears and whispered in her ear.

"It's okay. You've done alright."

She kissed her muzzle and held her till morning light.

Next Chapter: Assimilate Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 45 Minutes