“Come on, work you stupid piece of shit!”

I hit the helmet of the rusty suit of power armor that sat broken in front of me. It had happened again, my suit of power armor had broken down a week ago and it still wouldn’t open up. I was getting sick and constantly having to fix the damn thing. The power armor was the only thing I still had from my father, and the only thing that allowed me to walk. The suit breaking down wasn’t anything new, as age showed just how rusty and under maintained it was. It was a pain to get the thing back in order, but whenever it did work, it was miracle.

Sorry, guess I forgot to introduce myself. The names Dead Hooves, and yes, that is my real name. When I was born my spine had twisted strange and I ended up having the entire lower half of my body paralyzed. That was my explanation as to what happened, my parents didn’t really have a doctor around when I was born. It sucks, especially when you bring into effect that bandits or ghouls can attack any day. Honestly, I’m surprised as to how well I’ve been able to survive by myself these past five years.

My dad was once a member of the steel rangers, but left when I was born. The power armor was a symbol of his rank as a paladin, and he was one of only five paladins that had been made since the last day. He was a really kind pony, we use to bake and sing together. Sometimes he acted a little strange after a meal, but he was still the same father I knew and love. He never told me the real reason he left the Steel Rangers, saying that it was unimportant and to not worry about it. I really wish I knew what that reason was, but if he wasn’t going to tell me I wasn’t going to push it.

I remember how my dad reacted when I was little, seeing that I wasn’t able to stand or walk like he could. He hated seeing me unable to walk, so he decided to take his piece of power armor he had kept from his time as a Steel Ranger and tampered. He gave it to me for fifteenth birthday, and showed me what he had done by helping me inside. Basically, whenever I move a front hoof, a piece of metal attach to the back hoof on the same side of my body would force the leg to move. That was one of the happiest days of my life, the day I actually walked for the first time, even though it wasn’t really me but the power armor that made me walk. I remember calling my dad the mechanical genius, though age has since shown the side effects of that tampering. Tampering with it was the main reason it broke down a lot, it was already really old and my dad really wasn’t a mechanic to begin with.

As for my mom, I never got to know her or who she was. My father told me that she had died in childbirth, and how much he had cried when it happened. I remember that dad had always described as a roughless yet kind-hearted pony with a love for the wasteland. She would never want me to venture out there, that’s for sure, but dad said it was her love for that grand expanse that brought the two of them together. Even with all the bad I knew about it, I still had to thank mother nature for bringing the two of them together.

That being said, they're not around anymore. My dad died protecting me from a ghoul attack five years ago and I only lived through that because I was inside of his power armor. I defended myself from the ghouls with his shotgun and I’ve kept it by my side ever since. Just a few days after the battle I scratched the word “Remember” into it in remembrance of his life. The only other thing I had left from him besides the double barreled shotgun was a half broken PipBuck he ripped off a dead pony. The only parts of that PipBuck that worked are the Radio and holotape player, and were really the only two parts I ever needed. My dad had recorded some of my favorite recipes onto tapes and used the PipBuck to play it when he had needed to. We would also use the Pipbuck to listen to the radio every morning, even though no one really cared back then.

If you wanted to know exactly where in the Equestrian Wasteland I live, it would be the middle of nowhere. My parents had found an old house one day and turned into what it is today. It’s more of a shack then a house, only having enough room for one bedroom and a small kitchen. That being said I still considered it as home, and I was never going to leave it. If the power armor never worked again, that is.

“Stupid power armor,” A yelled from my bed, punching the helmet again. “Why the hell do you have to do this to me?”

I get stressed easily, I always have. My dad believed it was because of the paralysis, but I honestly believed I have low temper. We learned early on that singing was the best way to calm me down, and my dad would sing to me every night when I went to bed. Since he’s passed away I’ve had to sing to myself, even though it doesn’t have the same effect it use to. I even made a song up in time. It wasn’t long, but it helped me calm down quickly. That was what I needed right now, and knowing that I layed back down on my bed as I sang to myself.

Oh little angel, can you hear my voice.
I’m sorry to see you all alone.
For many things you have lost, and many thing as well gain.
I can’t help but here you cry

Oh little unicorn, why can’t you be free.
To conquer the world high and low.
Yet your body doesn’t let you, and you can’t leave your cell.
You think it’s all over when it just begins.

So listen to my song, the song of hope.
That one day it will change, and things will be great.
For this song I made to help you find peace.
This beautiful song of hope.

The lyrics use to be different, but ever since my dad past this is the version that I’ve sung. It had a personal connection that only me and my dad understood. I guess it was kind of a metaphor for my life. Even if I wanted to leave, my back hooves wouldn’t let me. It was impossible to leave, and without being able to quickly moving I was a goner.

I sighed, only to hear my stomach rumble in response. Getting up out of bed I pulled my lower body behind me like I was carrying iron chains, sluggishly moving to the kitchen area to find something. My dad taught me how to garden, so we had grown our own for most of our lives. However, with my power armor broken for at least three weeks, I haven’t been able to plant or harvest anything. That wasn’t all, I was starting to run low clean water as well, and if I couldn’t get that power armor working soon I would probably run out. I knew I had to preserve it for as long as possible, and my first thought turned to a cupboard at the corner of the small shack. After a few seconds I decided it was time that I had one of the emergency drinks that my dad told me were off limits. I searched the cupboard for the bottle that my dad had kept hidden for special occasions, finding a single bottle that was half full.

“Ah, there you are,” I say as I pull out a bottle of hard cider. “Sorry dad, but it’s about time I tried this. I am twenty after all.”

I felt like my dad was yelling at me to put it back, but it was too late for that as I poured myself a small cup. I looked at the dark orange liquid for only a second before taking a sip. It tasted like apples, and I love apples. The only problem is that I didn’t know how much was enough, and continued to gulp it down without any realization as to what I was really drinking. I put down the cup, looking to see a know empty bottle of Sweet Apples Cider, and licked my lips to get any that hadn’t made it into my mouth. I felt slightly woozy from drinking it, but there was no mistaking how tasty it was. I could hear a imaginative moan that I could only assume was my mind telling me what my dad would think.

After that I headed back to my bedroom power armor, and examined it quickly even though I knew the problem wasn’t on the outside. Usually when it needed fixing all I had to do was open it up and see what was wrong on the inside. This time, I couldn’t even get the power armor to open, which obviously meant that I couldn’t get inside it. What the fuck is the use of having power armor if it isn’t even usable? I hated having to walk around by dragging my hind legs behind me, I felt so stupid and made me feel useless. The power armor felt like a piece of me, and whenever it broke down I did as well.

Knowing that thinking about it was only going to frustrate me, I turned away from my power armor and to my half-broken PipBuck. I turned it on and tuned the radio in, deciding that listening to the news was the only thing that would keep me from thinking about my current problem. Usually there wasn’t that much interesting on the news, as most ponies didn’t really care to bring it to the broadcast station, wherever that may be. However, there was one story over the past two year that has gotten everyone's attention.

“I am here to report that the suspect raiders had believed was the Bloody Angel has been confirmed to be false,” I heard the radio pony announce with only slight static in the PipBuck “As I reported two months ago, a group of raider reported that they might have found the murderer known as the Bloody Angel, who has been reported for killing large numbers of ponies in the past two years. . Survivors of these attacks have offered rewards for the capture or death of this wanted criminal. That is all we have in terms of an update for the hunt to turn that pony in, we will continue to keep you updated as the hunt-”

“So they still haven’t caught her yet?” I said to myself as I layed down on the bed and turned it off, “Starting to wonder if they ever will.”

It was crazy the hunt that was going on to find this pony that has been nicknamed as the Bloody Angel. Even in these times of anarchy, ponies banded together to take this monstrous killer down. I didn’t know much other than what I had manage to catch since I first heard about it a year ago. The Bloody Angel is suppousedly a murderous pony who buries their victims where they had died. Many rumors were caught over the news that the pony had been sent to deliver our death and was immortal. That’s how she got the name she currently had, but the part that made it so difficult to catch her is that nopony knew what she looked like. Anyone who has gotten a good enough look at her was killed by her.

Not long afterwards, I heard the sound of the door open behind me. I looked behind me to see the hoof of a pony step through the door. I quickly grabbed my dads shotgun, which I always made sure was loaded, and pointed it at the door. I backed myself into the quarter of the room, not knowing who or what had just opened the door.

“Come out murderer, we know you're in here,” I heard a voice from outside say.

I didn’t need another word to tell why they were here. They thought I was the Bloody Angel? Is that what they thought? Or did they just come here to kill me and take everything I had? Either way I wasn’t letting them kill me or take me prisoner. I shuffled myself away from the door and behind the power armor which was still not working, and when I needed it as well. I looked out a window to see that they had set up shop behind my house. They had automatic rifles, which means I would have to rely on luck in order to make it out of this. I waited for the raider's head to come into view before taking a shot. The impact was a direct hit, splitting the raider’s head open with little effort. I watched as blood splattered over the floor and walls as well as on me, and I quickly tried to get it off. You can probably tell how well that when. The floor around the raider was soaked in blood from the wound the had taken.

“Oh shit!” I heard a voice from outside shouted, most likely belonging to the raider leader “Surround the house, no one leaves until we got that son of a bitch knocked out okay. Just remember the rewards we are getting for doing this.”

I watched from the window as raiders surrounded the house, making me realize how little of a chance I had at escaping. There was no way I could take them all out since I only had one bullet in the shotgun left. I couldn't run away unless I had the power armor, but even then I would be too slow to outrun them. All I could do was sit there and pray to Celestia that they went away. I listened as I heard the voice of a pony talk to one of the raiders.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I heard a harsh voice say to the leader. “You don’t go and shout to the entire fucking world what you are going to do, you’ll let her escape.”

“I… I’m sorry mister,” The voice of the raider trembled in response to the pony. “It won’t happen again.”

“You bet it won’t,” The harsh pony said again, “Because I’m taking over. You two, come with me,”

I once again readied my shotgun, knowing that they were going to come through that door again, mainly because it was the only entrance. My hooves were trembling as I looked down the sights of the gun. I only had one bullet left, if I killed the pony with the harsh voice, who I thought was the leader, I might be able able to frighten them away. They didn't know exactly what weapon I had, except that it was a shotgun. Maybe they would turn away, thinking I had more than just the one bullet I had.

I watched as something flew into my vision, and shot it thinking it was the pony. It wasn’t, it was a damn rock. How did they know I only had one bullet? My face was drained of color as I realized that this pony somehow knew me. That, or they knew my father. I heard the hoof steps on the steps outside my house as I tried to hide myself behind the power armor I had. As the door opened, I closed my eyes, hoping that they would turn away and leave when they didn't see me. It caught me by surprise when they knocked the power armor down and trapped me under it. I fell to the floor and watched as the picked the power armor up off of me and pinned me to the ground.

“We got her.” I heard the pony yell from above me “We got her,”

They turned me around as I took a look at the pony who had knocked the power armor over. He was a unicorn and had a light green mane and a dark brown coat. A machete was attached to a belt across his waist and he carried what looked like a normal 10 mm Pistol in a magic grasp, something I never learned to do. He looked at me and smile as the raiders tied me up and gagged my mouth.

“I finally have you,” He whispered to me “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, but you will wish I had once they get ahold of you. Hope your father is happy I’m doing this, because I've been waiting to do this for so long.”

I tried to speak, but couldn’t. Was this pony tricking the others into thinking I was the Bloody Angel? He claimed to know about my father, but I had never seen him in my life. I tried to squirm away from them only to have one of the raiders step on my chest. I fell to the floor, conscious, but in great pain. I looked onward as what must of pony the raiders leader come inside.

“You got what you want,” He addressed to the harsh voiced pony “Now it’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal. That the power armor and PipBuck you promised us.”

“Yep,” He said, looking at the power armor that had been knocked on the floor. “I’ll give you the other things when we get back, thanks for helping my little… Problem.”

“Anything to help a friend,” The raider turned to the door and exited, but I could hear him say “Knock her out and will be on our way.”

The pony nodded out of the window before coming over to me. He raised the end of his gun to my face, and gave a villainous smile before whacking his gun against my head.

Author's Notes:

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