It's the dead hours of the night when things like this happen. The witching hours, as they're called. It's the time of night where everything is incredibly still, as if the world had died. It was a blanket of darkness, and it had truly earned the phrase 'Dead of night'. It took them some tracing, but they figured out. I'm not sure if I left a trace of boot prints or what, but they followed me all the way back. It was on these witching hours, that things tended to go to hell.

They breached the door with explosives, which shook everypony awake, We all quickly grabbed our weapons and started the fight. The lights had gone out, they must've found which set of power lines went here, which was impressive in of itself. The old stallion in his old Prussian uniform Waited at the door, his sawed off bolt action rifle glaring past the barracks and at the top of the stairs. The rest of them simply ran by him, armed with pistols and all. I wasn't one of them, I was more focused on getting out alive than going out in a ball of fire. I grabbed the old stallion on his shoulder, his expression was blank. There was almost nothing but darkness in his eyes.

"Staying is suicide, don't you know that!" I shouted at him, he was unshaken however.

"Then tell me, would you rather die on your hooves or on your knees. I've been here for too long, it's time I end this."

"What do yo-" It caught up with me. He didn't want to live, he just wanted to pull his neck out for somepony else. We were the same like that.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Just go, you grab the princess and Bell and get the hell out of here."

That's when the grenade went off. A deafening roar of phosphorous, must've been a flashbang. There was the relentless blast of automatic rifles immediately following it. This was no doubt a Government SWAT team, not the average militia. There were brief shots from pistols to be heard, but they were drowned out by the screaming. Blood seeped up and down the stairs as the bodies rolled over. The nurse was leaned up just ouside of the room we were in, which was right down the hall from the princess. I knew exactly what to do.

"Well listen old Stallion"

"Rose"

"What?"

"My name, it's Thorn Rose, you don't need to tell me what to do I already know."

He set his rifle up against the door, right when the doorknob started to turn he fired a shot through the wall, which was met by the ping of a bullet ramming it's way through a steel plate. We heard a thud, must've fallen. That was when they slammed a sledge through the door, hitting him in the ribs. He coughed up some blood, there was no way he'd survive. I ran under one of the bunks before they could get in. The SWAT team breached the door and five ponies in black uniforms rushed the room, the first one to come in shot Thorn Rose three times in the chest. He fell over to the side and just bled, slowly and silently. I was under one of the beds, they hadn't seen me yet.

I pulled my Ka-Bar. Waiting for the opportunity. If I was going to get out of here alive, I needed to make this fast. I saw hoofs stop by the bunk I was under, my heart sank. I left my M16 sticking out slightly from one end. The pony bent down, right when we met eyes I swung the knife right into his neck and twisted it out. I was emotionless, it was almost identical to the years I was fighting before. Once a wolf always a wolf I guess. The guards secured the bunk I was hiding under. So I rolled out and shot a three round burst at one of the ponies feet, which he backpedaled out of harms way. The shots just bounced off the ground and hit the bricks against the wall. They started shooting at all the beds, I was already next to the door.

It was nerve wrecking, knowing that I probably wouldn't live after today. But that didn't stop me, I slid out from cover and shot a three round burst into one of the remaining four ponies chest plates, then two rounds into the one next to him. One shot landed in his plate carrier and bounced off, the other went right into the neck. He collapsed and rolled on the floor as a gurgling mess. The last one fired at me and missed, I in turn shot him in the leg. I was on my hooves now, so I ran towards him and bashed him with the stock of the rifle. Now I just needed to rally up whoever survived and get out of here. The princess was top priority.

When I walked out the body of the dead SWAT officer was there, his helmet just slung over his head, a bullet right through the front of his chest piece.

I ran down the hall, only to be greeted by an open window and a note.

"Oh yea she can fly." I said it bluntly, only to realize that all the bloodshed was for nothing if she could just fly out into the night.

"1437 Cheswick Road, house number 3." At least she was polite enough to tell us where she was going, and dumb enough if we had lost to have given the Government her exact location. I guess it worked out alright though.

I made my way past the nurse's lifeless corpse. Her eye was wide open, and so was her mouth. Her one remaining eye was as wide open as could be, stuck in a state of horror. The other eye was gone. I kept moving, the piles of bodies over the stairs was overwhelming. I saw the hoof of the stallion that was on planning before, piled under the bricks and a few dead bodies.

Behind the bar was a dead body, a bullet had gone right through the bar and hit him in the chest. I just walked past him. I almost didn't recognize this as reality anymore, it was just another piece of me. The freezer door was locked shut. I knocked on it, to which the door fell of the hinges. The shock of the explosion must've dug out it's hinges. A shot rang out, missing my ear by millimeters. I ducked down and lifted my rifle. Bellona was in the corner with a revolver. I picked her up and carried her. She was in shock, and clearly not in the right mental state to go on her own. She kept mumbling things incomprehensible to me, although I could make out some names and 'They're all really dead now.' in the mix of alphabet soup that was the words coming out of her mouth.

I picked up a SWAT officers machine pistol off the ground, alongside a few magazines. It was an old Czech Vz-61, an under-powered .32 submachine gun that was so tiny you could hide it anywhere. In turn broke my M16 down and put it in the bag, the march was on.

The whole fight took place in the course of four minutes.

Author's Notes:

Off to God knows where, why do all my stories end up doing this?