Notice: This entire chapter will be in 3rd person. I’m experimenting.

“So just what do you have planned for today?” Zecora asked walking outside and standing next to the wooden chair was sat in doodling something down in a notebook.

“... Jus’ have some errands to run is all.” The human said in tone completely devoid of emotion, a tone Zecora had ever heard come out of Hank’s mouth. It worried the Zebra, especially after the events of last night.

“You aren’t going to go out into the woods again are you?” She asked nervously knowing she could do nothing to stop him if he said yes.

The human paused and sighed, “No, I’m gonna let my wounds heal first before I do anything else.”

Looking down to the picture in front of him he tapped the paper with the eraser of the pencil, “Even if I want to.” Hank adds in a mumble.

Feeling relieved at the answer Zecora let out a small sigh in relief before focusing on just what exactly the human was doing. Trying to get a view of what was on the paper Hank had been working on all morning she couldn’t quite see due to the armrest and position of Hank himself, “So what have you been drawing?”

“I’m going to carve some scenery into the buttstock of my 1903.” He answered shortly adding a few more lines and erasing a few guidelines that were no longer needed.

“May I see?” Her curiosity peaking she finally asks.

“Sure.”

Putting the pencil on his ear he grabs the notebook by the edge so none of the picture was covered and holds it out to his side so the zebra could see,”What you think?” He asked a little nervous at what she’d say.

Staring at the scene in front of her she grabs the notebook with her hooves and slowly takes it from Hank’s hand.

“ I didn’t know you could draw.” Zecora says stunned at the detail in the picture.

“Yeah. I was better but my hands are a little more shaky then well… before.” The human closes his eyes and winces at the memories that were brought up.

“This is incredible, where did you learn to do this?”

“Self taught. When it comes to doing things physically I pick up fast, not so much with book stuff.”

“Where is this?” Still studying the scene in front of her she wanted to know where one could catch such a view of a valley with trees and a mountains in the background while the sun rises above the mountains all while a large buck stood in the center of the valley with a doe on either side of him.

“Nowhere.” The Hank answers carefully taking the notebook from Zecora wanting to get a little more done.

“What do you mean? You had to have seen this somewhere.”

“I just made it up in my head, it’s a mix of what I’ve seen here and back home.”

“What else can you do that I don’t know about?” Honestly wondering what else the somewhat secretive human had up his sleeves the shaman asks.

“I think you already know most what there is to know Zecora. I ain’t special or nothin’.” Still in a flat tone Hank answers, his memories from last night still running fresh in his mind.

Rolling her eyes at his statement she looks away from the man next to her and to the trees as they rustled in the breeze, “No you’re definitely special Hank, like it or not. Actually you’re one of a kind.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” Hank shortly laughs before deflating a little and putting his pencil down on the notebook and leaning forward so his elbows were resting his knees.

“Oh no, no, no, no ,no. I didn’t mean it like that!” Zecora is quick to try to show what she meant.

“It’s true.” Hank calmly says back, “ Prolly a good thing though because if there were more humans I bet I’d have to end up killin’ them too.” The truth of his own statement upsetting him further he stands up and stretches, his stomach grumbling for the third time after eating only and hour ago.

“I am sorry Hank.” Zecora says turning with the human as he walked past her toward the door.

“Your pity won’t solve nothin’.” Walking into the cabin Hank felt a tinge of worry that what he said may have come off too harsh but just as fast as he became worried he threw the feeling away with a grunt.

---

After completely suiting up in his regular kit while eating down another carrot with the last three strips of his wolf jerky for his hunger that couldn’t seem to be satisfied he picked up his M16 and opened the door.

“I’m going to town, you need anything?”

“Huh? No I’m good.”

Clicking the loop on his chest holster Hank nods, “Okay, I be back in a while.”

Walking away from the cabin and Zecora the zebra mare watches as Hank raises his rifle and pushes through the tall grass separating his clearing from the rest of the Everfree.

“How can a person go on for so long without ever healing?” Watching the tall grass for a second more she hangs her head and starts to feel herself tearing up, the pictures of Hank trying to kill himself still planted in her mind.

---

Hank wished he could say he was thinking of nothing while he walked down the path in the forest, watching every movement like a hawk, but that was far from the truth. His mind had been doing nothing but replay the traumatic experiences he had been through since last night; and his body showed it.

Dark bags hung under his eyes from the numerous times he was awakened from nightmares through the night in a cold sweat and panic while his eyes themselves seemed to stare through everything he looked at while somehow looking even more ‘crazed’ or ‘predatory.’

Coming upon the actual dirt road that lead to town he pushed his hair out of his eyes realizing that he didn’t put his helmet on.

“Fuck it.” He murmured not caring about the lack of protection as he continued down the road.

Starting his descent down the hill into town while his mind still battled with itself with all the things he had seen and done he grabbed at his crotch automatically as his shorts and underpants had bunched up uncomfortably.

Temporarily distracted from his thoughts he tried to pull the under pants down from the outside before giving up and squeezing two fingers up his right short leg and pinching the underpants before pulling them down.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” He exclaimed in mild anger shaking his leg out, “Nothing can fucking work today can it!? Nah, fuck letting me ever have a full day with no aches, pains, or just being comfortable!”

He temper starting to get the best of him his muscles started to tense and his breathing got heavier. Still walking forward he started to take deep breaths and clench and unclench his free left hand as his right still held the rifle.

“Not now, not here, save the anger.” Cracking his neck from side to side and gritting his teeth the human closed fifty feet with the town.

Immediately noticing the two guards stationed at the entrance tense up and take a small step back he looked down to his rifle and partially pulled back the charging handle to make sure a round was in the chamber. His rifle locked and loaded the human approached the guards, hoping they wouldn’t start anything and felt himself tense up as he walked past them and into the town.

Past the guards the lone man checked all around him, every rooftop, every visible alley, and even behind him as he continued toward the market area. Every pony in the town watching him with full attention he continued down the main stretch watching all of them right back.

A lot of ponies shrunk back under his gaze; his front facing eyes and the empty but murderous look that was always within them set off instinctual alarms that was hardwired and told the ponies to run and hide from whatever creature could look at them with such a stare.

Hank found the way the most ponies cowered under his eyes amusing and telling of how soft they truly were, he almost felt bad for ruining their innocence. Checking his surroundings as he went toward the market the second he saw the stall he paused as he remembered something, “You need money to… buy things. Right.”

Realizing that he didn’t have any coins on him he sighed and brushed the hair out of his eyes again.

Bank it is. He thought changing his direction; heading for the pearly white building.

Roughly pushing the door open, Hank’s body language told the occupants inside that he was not having it today. Walking to the open teller he looked down to the young stallion as he tried not shake too bad and asked for a hundred bits.

Taking a second to process what the human said, not expecting Hank to be able to speak at all, the stallion looked around confused before looking up to the human, “What?”

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose Hank tried again, “A hundred coins, or whatever the hell you call em.”

Looking down to his hooves on the polished marble the stallion nervously cleared his throat, they told me monsters lived in the Everfree and that Ponyville was a hotspot when I took the job, but what the buck is this thing!?

“Hey.”

The stallion was cut short from his thoughts from the curt word and two pats on top of his head that made his wings shoot out in surprise as he yelped and jumped back.

“Were you dropped on your damn head as a baby? We’re burnin’ daylight, let’s move.”

Looking away from Hank’s eyes the stallion brushes his hoof nervously on his black vest and clears his throat again.

“Y-you can’t just walk into a bank and ask for bits. You h-have to have an account.” Looking up from his hooves to Hank’s face the young stallion gulps as the human’s pupils seem to shrink to pinpricks.

Could I kill this mother fucker? I could lay traps in the forest for whoever comes after me, use guerilla warfare. How many losses could fat ass take before letting me be?

His jaw clenching Hank calmly slings his rifle and bends over until his palms were resting on the cool marble.

“I fucking know that you troglodyte, look I know you’re scared, I can practically smell it in the air. So how about you ask for my name so you can find my account and get me out my one hundred bits.”

“N-Name please.”

“Hank.” The human says in a low grumble as the stallion starts to go through the files, fumbling more often than not. Finally finding the right file he checks the amount and pauses, “That can’t be right.” He tries to mumble to himself but Hank unfortunately for the stallion hears.

“No, that’s right. Wanna know how I got it?”

Slowly turning his head to look at the human the stallion gulps, “how?”

“By killin’ people that take too damn long. Now chop chop ‘fore I jump over this counter and put you on the list too!”

Frantically hurrying the stallion grabs a withdraw slip and sets it on the counter, “H-here.” Watching Hank sign the piece of paper he didn’t think Hank actually got the money that way but at the same time he didn’t want to test it.

“Ten, Twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty, Sixty, Seventy, Eighty, Ninety, One.” The stallion quickly counts setting the bits down.

Grabbing the bits in one hand Hank turns around and heads for the door. Pushing it open with his foot while shoving the quarter sized coins into his pocket he stepped out of the bank and onto the front steps.

Looking toward the market a block back toward the direction he came and a increase of foot and wagon traffic in between him and where he needed to go his auto pilot took over even more pushing him further back into the back of his mind.

Almost unconsciously making decisions due to his old habits and instincts instead of walking down the stairs and to the market normally the human slung the rifle over his shoulder and took a step back away from the carved stone guardrail before taking a quick step and jumping into the air only to latch onto the second floor balcony railing of the building next to the bank and jumping over.

Just doing what he had done for nearly two years, traveling as the crow flies, Hank felt like nothing was wrong with what he was doing but the stares he was receiving from the ponies in town unknowingly clearly showed just out of place he was.

Jumping the gap to the next building he had to take the slightly sloped roof due to the lack of a balcony. Reaching the far side of the building and avoiding most of the crowd he took his rifle back in his hands and quickly but thoroughly scanned the market, alleys, and other roof tops.

While his brain did process the many eyes on him, none of the figures in the crowd indicated a current threat so he crouched down and jumped off of the twenty foot roof.

The ponies below gasping at the display, some turning away or shielding the younger members in the crowds eyes, to avoid the sight of the human hitting the ground and breaking his legs or worse.

Much to surprise of the ones looking away they didn’t hear any cracking of broken bones or the cries of pain that usually came from someone that usually fell from that height and much to the amazement of the ones that were watching Hank immediately upon hitting the ground tucked his right shoulder and rolled to his feet continuing on like nothing happened.

Rolling his shoulders and slinging the rifle back over his right one he walked toward the stand that had baskets of assorted vegetables and flowers.

The pony behind the counter slowly looking up to the human as he picked up a green bean before snapping it and putting it into his mouth he grunted in approval before looking to her.

“How much for two pounds?”

“Pounds?” The mare asked back not understanding.

“Oh right. Four stones then.”

“O-oh ten bits.”

“Ight.” Pulling a single coin out of his pocket with some struggle he placed it on the counter and slid it toward the mare, “Ya got a bag or somethin’?”

“Yes.”

Picking the bag up Hank looked to the other baskets before back to the mare, “Who sells peas?”

Getting more and more surprised by how civil such a feral looking creature was being she started to relax a little, “Well Carrot Top might have some, she’s more into the vegetable gardening than me. Her stand is on the opposite side of the market just about to the edge.”

“Thanks.”

Walking away in the direction of where the pony had pointed him he weaved through the ponies that didn’t get out of his on their own, even stepping over a few as he approached the other side of the market. Looking at the different stalls as he passed he finally spotted the one that fit the description and stopped.

Waiting for the pony in front of him to get done with their business Hank started to stare off into space as his thoughts finally got a hold of him.

Different memories rushing by him his mind finally settled on one.

Staring down at the body of his old fifth grade teacher as she violently shook on the hard floor coughing blood from the hole in her neck made by the hatchet in his hand he watched as her movements slowed before finally stopping all together.

Slowly pulling his eyes off the now dead body he looked to his hands and hatchet covered in the older woman’s blood before slowly sheathing the weapon and kneeling down next to the woman, her blood staining his pants.

Solemnly reaching out his right hand he closed the vicious eyes of the dead infected and held his hand on the still warm forehead of the body.

“I’m sorry.”

Bowing his own head he looked to the body of the fifth grade teacher turned infected before standing back up and walking over to the fireplace mantle. Picking up a family photo that showed Mrs. Gering, her husband, children, and grandchildren all smiling on a sunny day in front of the very house Hank currently stood in, covered in the blood of one the old occupants.

Walking back to the cooling body he squatted down and placed the picture face down on her chest, laying her hands on the back of the picture. Standing up and walking over to the couch, broken glass from the coffee table and crumbled magazines crunching and crumpling under Hank’s boots, he picked up a pillow before walking over to the dead body and softly placing it under her head.

Standing up and looking at the tormented body finally at rest he let out a deep breath before whispering, “Cha dìochuimhnich mi.” And walking into the kitchen in the search for food.

Digging through cabinets, taking every can he came across, he avoided the fridge like the plague before a loud pounding came from the front door. Placing his hands palm down on the counter top he clenched his eyes and grit his teeth harder and harder with every hit that sounded through the house.

His head snapping up with a slow deep breath he opened his eyes and picked up his nearly half full bag, putting back on and securing it. Picking up his AR-15 he leaned on the kitchen counter Hank checked the chamber to make sure it was ready to roll before slowly walking back out into the family room.

Looking at the infected through the glass of the front door he had barricaded with a chair under the door knob, upon seeing him the infected started hitting the door harder and faster to the point where the chair moved slightly on the hardwood floor.

Staring at the infected nothing but hatred and rage burned in Hank’s eyes as he raised his rifle and sent a round through the glass and into the infected’s skull.

The infected’s body slumping forward its face slid down the glass leaving a single read streak from the hole in its head. The single gunshot being heard by the pack of infected that must of followed, or found him another way, they started to scream and run around the house like a swarm of bees.

The yells of the infected only pissing Hank off further it wasn’t long before he heard the sound of broken glass come from up stairs.

“Fuckin’ crackheads.” He swore, “Why in the hell do all you mother fuckers have to have adrenals stuck full throttle huh!?”

The offending infected swinging around the bottom of the stairs, its head swinging from side to side trying to find Hank it caught two bullets through the side of the chest dropping it.

Pulling the rifle from his cheek he reached for his bayonet on his hip and quickly attached it to the front of the rifle before over the screeching of the dying infected on the floor by the stairs he heard the back door get flung open.

Raising the rifle to his cheek and aiming down the sights he quickly approached the dining room. Getting close to the fallen infected, its blood pool slowly creeping outwards, another rushed into his sights and took a round to the lung.

The shock of getting shot causing the infected to lose its footing it flew into the countertop before falling to the ground. Quickly getting back up it started to rush towards Hank as he backpedaled and put three more rounds in it before it stopped advancing. Jumping over it as it shook around violently on the ground two more rushed through the door.

Pulling the trigger as fast as he could Hank put ten rounds into the two while strafing to the left until he bumped into the countertop. Another crashing down the stairs he whipped to it and put four rounds into its torso as the rifle clicked empty.

Attempting to switch mags Hank is interrupted and tackled into the counter top from the infected that had finally broke the front door open. Landing on his side and more dazed than not the stinging pain from his right thigh snapped him out of it.

Looking down as the infected tore into his thigh he panickedly brought the butt of the rifle down on the infected’s forehead until it let go. Scrambling away from the enraged infected he pushed himself to his feet and started to back up the stairs as he infected that bit him started to charge back at him.

Getting three steps up before the infected got in range he thrust the bayonet at the chest of the infected but missed and grazed the side of its neck popping open its jugular. Feet getting caught up on the staircase as he backed up Hank fell backwards onto his back as the rapidly weakening infected fell on top of him, not caring if it had limited time left to live.

Holding his rifle up to block the falling infected he placed his feet onto the infected’s lower stomach as its blood poured onto his face and neck before kicking it down the stairs. Rapidly pushing himself back to his feet and up the stairs another infected met him near the top in the cramped staircase.

Pushing the infected into the opposite wall of the staircase he dodged under a left grab by the infected and thrust the bayonet into its side just below the armpit causing it to scream in pain.

Pushing it down the staircase as well he didn’t look what was behind him but heard the infected he just stabbed body thump down the stairs to the bottom. Either able to go left of right Hank picked right and was met face to face with an infected that was blocking the door to the balcony.

Tucking his shoulder he rammed through the infected eliciting a vicious yell from it before turning to the left to go down the stairs back to the ground. Quickly meeting three infected as they sprinted up the stairs he jumped over the railing and rushed toward the ground as gravity took over.

Feet slipping out from under him his forearms, elbows, and face ate sharp gravel that made up the driveway but the amount of adrenaline coursing through Hank’s body prevented any pain from making itself known yet as he pushed himself up and sprinted away from the house as fast as he could.

Another infected coming into view from behind a tree he raised the rifle and prepared for a bayonet charge while starting to yell. Quickly approaching the infected two firm hits against his right thigh snapped him out of the flashback.

Before he even knew what was happening Hank had picked something up by the neck, threw it to the ground and now had his right boot on its chest as his rifle pointing right it its face. Hank’s brain slowly coming back to reality he realized that it wasn’t an infected under his boot, but a terrified white pony in gold armor as his rifle barrel pointed right between its eyes.

Looking down at the pony confused Hank’s brain still hadn't caught up entirely from the sudden shock out of its previous environment and told him to look around to get his bearings.

Slowly looking up while not taking his rifle away from the pony under him Hank unconsciously took a deep breath of relief, knowing that he wasn’t back in the shit, before he realized where he actually was.

Seeing a market full of colorful ponies standing stock still staring at him with various expressions of fear on their faces he looked back to the pony under him and took the rifle off of the pony and took his boot off her chest.

Reaching a hand out to the pony as she shivered and looked to Hank terrified and not knowing what to do she slowly reached a hoof up to Hank’s hand before her hoof was quickly grasped and she was pulled back onto her four hooves.

Standing stock still not wanting to make any sudden moves she held her breath and clenched her eyes shut as the human dusted her off before standing back up to his full height.

Staring down at the pony the mare didn’t know what to do under the human’s gaze other than stand as still as possible and try to get her shaking under control.

She was a guard for Celestia’s sake! She can’t show fear in front of the ponies she was sworn to protect, but after being tossed around like she weighed nothing in a split second by the single handedly scariest thing she’d ever laid eyes on it was hard not for her to show her fear. She was terrified!

Meanwhile Hank was beating himself up in his head for what he had just done and was thinking for what to say. Becoming frustrated with himself at the lack of things to say he growled and grit his teeth before softening his features as much as possible and looking to the still froze in place mare.

“I’m… Sorry. You can’t jus’... Don’t sneak up on me.”

Turning away from the guards mare slowly he walks up to the stand and the nervous Carrot Top as she stood behind a stack of boxes just peeking her head out.

“Four stones of peas please.”

Looking at the human in front of her she cautiously stepped out from behind the boxes before stopping again; the peas behind right behind the counter and far too close to Hank that Carrot top was willing to be.

Tracing the mare’s line of sight and reading her posture he took a large step back to allow her to comfortably approach the basket.

Taking his eyes off Carrot Top he did a survey of his surroundings noticing that while some of the ponies had moved on the majority were still looking/staring at him. Feeling his heart rate and breathing start to increase Hank’s body was telling him to bail from his current spot but he mostly ignored it, minus putting his finger back on the trigger of his rifle.

Watching the mare fumble to fill the bag Hank’s body was screaming at him louder and louder, his extreme hatred of people looking at him strongly showing itself.

Both the hatred in his appearance and the instinctual need to observe everything and keep every detail of an environment in check were combining to try and push him away from all the variables, and it was working.

The second the mare set the bag down on the counter Hank slapped down twenty bits, not caring if he overpaid, before picking up the bag and in the blink of an eye darting down the nearest alley.

His heavy foot falls echoing of the close walls of the alley Hank slowed down into a jog and eventually stopped completely. Stepping out of the alley and realizing that he was in the area that Button’s house was in Hank stopped and took a deep breath, the strong feeling in the back of his neck starting to fade while the short almost invisible hair on his arms started to lay back down.

Rubbing his arms Hank continued down the road that led to the one out of town, while his thoughts became preoccupied with what they were before. The past. Completely absorbed in his own thoughts Hank was unaware of the beige mare sitting on her front porch watching him as he walked past.

“Oh! Hello Hank would you like something to drink?” Button’s mother called out in a slightly raised voice to cover the distance to the human.

While Hank heard the callout his brain immediately marked it as “no threat” and as the result made the callout go in one ear and out the other as Hank continued down the path still caught in his thoughts.

Watching the human seemingly ignore her completely Elaina felt slightly taken aback by the rude gesture from the stallion that she thought to be polite.

Still watching Hank as he walked down the road a loud bang came from the other direction down the road slightly startling Elainia and causing her to look away from the human and to the cause of the sound.

Turning out just to be a pony who tipped over their empty metal trash can Elainia looked back to the right where she thought Hank would be still walking down the road. Not seeing the rather hard to miss creature walking down the road she sat up a little higher in an attempt to spot the human.

“Where did he get off to so fast?” She quietly asked to herself turning back to her drink before nearly jumping out of her skin as the large human slowly peaked out from the corner of her house with his rifle raised in the direction of the sound.

Watching the human slowly lower his rifle with a hoof on her chest as she leaned back in her seat as hank started to turn away.

“Jus’ a fuckin’ trash can.” He huffed and shook his head.

Calming her breathing with a gulp Elainia looked to Hank, hoof still on her chest.

“How did you get over there so fast?”

“Hm?” Hank looks over his shoulder to the mare before turning around and facing her, “What did you say… Elainia? He struggles on the name for a second.

“How did you get from there,” She points to the spot on the road where he was standing, “to there?” She points to the side of her house he emerged from, “All without making a sound?”

“Ran.” With a shrug Hank answers getting a glare from the mother.

Used to that type of answer with Button Elainia frowns, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Well what kind of answer do you want? I didn’t fuckin’ float over here.”

“Watch your language.” Elainia says out of reflex but quickly regrets as the human stares her dead in the eyes, face void of all emotion, before quickly turning and stepping over the fence.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Surprised that Hank was just going to walk away she asks making him stop again.

Slowly turning around he clenches his jaw and pops his neck from side to side, “Home.”

Turning again he gets interrupted once more as the mare calls out once more.

“What!?” He quickly whips around and walks to the fence, “What do you need so bad!?”

“I-I just wanted to know why you hid behind my house.” Taken aback from his immediate turn from almost lifeless in appearance to completely fired up she asks pressed against the back of her chair.

Looking left to right Hanks gives a heavy sigh and his shoulders drop, “Because do you know what else makes loud bangs like that? One of these,” He pats his rifle, “Do you know what happens when one of theses goes off and you’re down range? You die, your friend dies, or either of you gets fatally or extremely injured.”

Not understanding how he connected a trash can falling over with something that could kill him Elainia questions again, “but why did you think a trash can falling over was one of those?” She points to the rifle in Hank’s hands.

“Do you just want me to write you a biography? Christ’s sake.”

“No I just don’t see how-”

“Because where I’m from a loud bang is a very serious threat to my life”

Taking a deep breath he looks to the sky before back to Elainia, “Is that a good enough answer to appease you?”

Not at all expecting the answer she had gotten Elainia was trying to comprehend what Hank had said and only realized the he had asked her something.

“Uh, yes.” The beige mare answers.

“Good.” Turning back around Hank made his away from the house at a respectable click as Elainia watched.

“But why did he think a trash can was a threat to his well being?” Elainia asked to herself still not understanding what Hank had said, “Did he actually mean that he’s been shot at so many times that his body immediately identifies a bang as a threat?”

“That’s extreme and… horrible.” Looking back to where she thought the human would be down the road the mare sees nothing. With a sigh and a shake of her head she slumps back into her seat “I’m scared for that stallion.”

Meanwhile as Elanina pondered what life is like as Hank the human was just leaving the town. Walking up behind the guards stood at the entrance to the town they quickly turn around at the heavy foot falls of the human and take a step back, watching Hank closely as he walked past.

Ignoring the stares of the guards Hank starts up the hill still stuck in thought however his mind had let go of the focus on his actions of the past and instead had turned to who Hank thought he was.

Hank was just fine with the train of though he found himself on. He may not like what he looked like or some of the things he had done but he really liked doing what “profession” he’d found himself in and he rather liked himself, on the inside at least. It wasn’t ego but healthy self confidence. Surviving for two years on his own had made Hank the exact opposite of bashful and degraded his filter to almost non-existence.

Looking down to the knife on his belt he pulls the bayonet free and starts looking over it, thinking about the numerous infected and few people that he’d brought down with the blade. A small smile that slowly turned into a wide and toothy grin that spread across his face.

Slowly sliding the tip of his thumb nail on the blade feeling the few deformities that ran with the edge showing the extreme use the knife had been through. Pinching the sides of the blade between his thumb and pointer finger and dragging through like he was wiping it off he put it away and quietly laughed a few times.

Shaking his head, small smile still on his face, Hank chuckles a few times, “Feelin’ bad for myself won’t get me fuckin’ no where.”

Clenching his fists, the paper bags in his left hand crumpling as he did so he grits his teeth as he purposefully goes back to thinking about the worst things he’d done, “I’ve done horrible… horrible shit but I can’t go back and fucking change that. The innocent people I’ve killed the… the kids.”

Hank’s entire body tenses up as flashes of kids faces and screams play in his mind almost knocking him over. Pushing through it he breathes heavily for a second, “I… can’t change any of that and I didn’t have any other option. Either way it’s all done, the ghosts of my past can do nothing but haunt me if I let them.” He starts to see the images again but quickly grits his teeth and pushes them back down.

Realizing that he was walking past the white fence at the front of the Apple’s property and that he was not paying any attention to his surrounding while he was thinking and talking to himself Hank does a quick 360 to make sure everything was in check while continuing to walk down the road.

Making sure to keep tabs on his surrounding this time and stay grounded in the real world Hank continued on.

“No, no, there’s nothin’ I can do ‘bout the past but,” The human pauses and smiles, “I can sure as hell put whatever threatens who I care about here in the ground and I can enjoy doin’ it. Oh I’m really going to fuckin’ enjoy it.”

Pushing through the brambles back onto the trail that lead directly to his cabin Hank pulled his knife free once more just to feel its handle in his hand.

Nearing the clearing, the sunlight filtering through the wall of tall grasses in front of him, Hank slips the knife back into the sheath on his thigh in one clean motion before pushing through into the clearing.

The cabin directly in front of the human, the chair where he sat earlier in the day still in its place unmoved with the rest of his belongings he looks to his rights only finding two manticores in the clearing with him.

Turning his head back to the cabin he saw the white and striped zebra standing in the now opened door a small smile tugged at his lips at the sight of Zecora.

“Hey Zecora.” Hank greeted happy to see her.

Already able to see a change in the human’s demeanor Zecora perked up a little happy to see her friend in a better mood. Stepping back to let the human pass she watches as he goes to the sink, “It seems like you had a good time in town.”

“No, not really. Pretty sure I’m well on the way from getting banned.” Hank laughs while emptying both bags into the left sink basin.

“What? Why?” Zecora asks a little shocked at what he said while pushing herself up so her front hooves were on the counter.

“I choked and body slammed a guard and then pointed my rifle between her eyes while at the market.”

Not expecting that answer Zecora scoots closer to Hank until she was pressed against his side, “Did they try something?”

Sighing the human shakes his head, “No… it was on me this time.” Hank puts the plug in the drain, “I apologized but I don’t think that did much.”

“Why did you do it?” Zecora asks confused, not knowing Hank to hurt anyone without reason.

Taking in a deep breath before slowly exhaling while looking up to the kitchen window the human hums and shakes his head thinking of what to say.

“I was thinking about things I’ve done and seen and she tapped me on the leg while I was stuck in one of my… flashes as I’ve come to call them. I just reacted and that’s what happened.”

“Well you apologized so that’s all that matters, and no one got seriously hurt.” The zebra says trying to console the human.

Not ignoring what Zecora said but choosing not to respond to it Hank abruptly jumps into a new conversation, “Zecora I… I need to tell you something.”

“Y-yeah.” Not expecting how serious he got so fast Zecora looks up to Hank right as he looks to her, His small and wild eyes meeting her large and caring ones.

“I know that you’ve probably already realized this about me but if you somehow haven't and it’s too much for you I’ll completely understand if you want to leave and never comeback.”

“I would never…” She gets cut off as the human gently closes her mouth with his hand.

“Don’t say that without knowing what I’ve said.”

Slowly taking away his hand he takes another deep breath, “I’ve done horrible, evil things Zecora.” Hank pauses for a few moment before continuing, “ I realize that most of what I’ve done to a normal person would be considered horrible but I’m not counting those, I’m counting the things that I think are evil so you must know that this is some very dark messed up shit.”

Looking directly into the small zebra’s eyes Hank keeps going to make sure his point is across, “ That’s why I’m going to let you ask me three questions, whatever you want, as to what I’ve done. I won’t tell you the worst thing I’ve done so whatever you ask know that there is something worse.”

A strong pause between the two the Zebra tears herself away from the human’s eyes and flounders for a while not knowing what to make of the situation sprung upon her.

Looking down at the counter Zecora started to process the situation. She knew Hank was violent and was willing to kill at the drop of a needle but she had chose not to think about what he was capable of and what he may have done in his past. Part of her didn’t want to ask at all but the other, louder and more prevalent part of her knew she couldn’t waste an opportunity to read a few pages of the closed book standing next to her.

“Have you ever killed an innocent person?” The zebra asks looking back up to Hank’s face to find that he was looking back out of the broken window. Watching as he visibly tensed at the question he opens his eyes and relaxes.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“... At least seven, it’s hard to count when I’ve tried to forget.”

The answer hitting the zebra hard she finds it hard to continue but continues on, “Do you… Do you enjoy killing Hank?”

Taking in a deep breath through his nose the human straightens up, the cords of muscle in his forearms moving as his hands turned to fists, “It depends. If the people are innocent not at all but, I’m not gonna lie, when I kill somebody or something that deserves it… it’s one of the best feelings on earth.”

“That’s not normal.” Zecora says partially to herself but easily loud enough that the human she was pressed against could hear.

“I’m not normal.” Is all Hank responds at first before continuing after a few seconds, “I’m not a good man either, I know that, I’m also not going to stop doing what I do Zecora and that’s why I brought this up. You’re by far the person I’m closest to and I’m not going to have you thinking I’m some decent person or something when you’ve never seen the ugly side of me.” Pausing again Hank takes a few slow breaths, “I’m not going to keep you in the dark, if I did I’d feel guilty for as long as I saw you for hiding the other half or more of me.”

Silence once again reigning between the two the human lifts his clenched fists off the counter he was leaning on and goes to his palms, each of his knuckles cracking and popping as he did so, “You got one more question if you want.”

Still processing what Hank had just dropped on her the zebra decides not to ask about his past, feeling like she didn’t want to know anymore and insteads follows a different path of questioning, “Would you ever hurt me?”

“NO. no.no.no.” Turning to the zebra the human gently places both of his hands on either side of her lower jaw, his thumbs pointing up as if he was holding her head, “I will never harm you. You have to believe me Zecora I mean this with every fiber of my being, I will never hurt you, nothing will ever hurt you and if anything tries they’ll be dead so fast and hard their head will spin, because I will have ripped from their shoulders.”

A look she had never seen in Hank’s eyes showing along with the raw amount of passion in his voice the Zebra found it hard not being a little scared with what he just said. Zecora didn’t want to be afraid but her instincts didn’t care one bit about what she wanted all they wanted for her to do was run out the door to distance herself from the human who was just standing back up and turning to the sink once again.

Standing in place and forcing her instincts to take a back seat in her decision making, which is extremely hard for ponies and zebras to do, Zecora deeply inhales thinking over all the revelations she had just learned.

A part of her non-instinct driven brain telling her to leave Hank as well she quickly shot the idea down, He didn’t have to tell me this, he didn’t have to save my life those times either but yet he did. He’s had every opportunity to hurt me if he wanted but has never shown any want to.

Looking up to the man as he idly washed the vegetables in the sink, the weight of the situation and worry just barely poking through his usual stoic mask.

“I am honored that you did not hide away your demons from me and pretend to not have a side you do. It is also wonderful to know that our relationship means so much to you, however, I’m not going to pretend to know how or why you could enjoy taking a life. Honestly that scares me.” Zecora says while raising her front hooves back onto the counter next to Hank.

“But you’ve never done anything bad to me, and the only person I have seen in you is one who cares deeply about those he’s close to and would do anything to protect them.” Placing her hoof over the human’s forearm he looks down at her, “That being said, you are far from perfect, but I don’t care, I am too. I’m not going to leave you, you’re stuck with me like the bacteria.”

A small smile on his face Hank looks away from the zebra and breaths deep through his nose in relief before exhaling slowly, “I guess I shoulda made myself sound worse then.”

Feeling the zebra’s elbow abruptly impact the side of his bicep Hank does nothing other than look down to the mildly annoyed zebra and wrap his left arm around her before pulling her closer to him, “It means a lot that you’d stay with an admittedly insane person even after he told you what he’s done.”

“Never a dull moment.” Zecora says back pressing herself into the embrace.

Laughing at the comment Hank pats the zebra’s left shoulder before retracting his arm back to the vegetables in the sink. Looking up through the window in front of him Hank realizes that the sun was going to set soon and hums to himself.

“Hey uh kind of a strange request but would you go with me to watch the sunset?”

Not at all expecting that to be the request Zecora stood still, more than a little baffled. Thinking for a second that this might be something romantic she quickly remembered just who asked her to join him and quickly shooed the idea away, “Why?”

“Well it’s something I’ve done for a long time to clear my head, even before my world ended, but especially after that day. I guess it just reminds me that tomorrow will be there with or without me. But through all the sunsets I’ve sat through, whether I be on death’s doorstep, nearly passing out from blood loss and internal trauma, or out of breath and covered in someones else's blood, or happy and optimistic after finding a good stock of food and water for the first time in weeks… I’ve never shared one. I think I’d like to do that.”

“Oh... I’d love to.” Zecora happily agrees with a smile making Hank smile in return, “Where are we going?”

“Just to the edge of the forest at the top of the hill above the town, should have a better view without trees getting in our way. That is… unless you want me to carry you up a tree.” Hank says the last part in jest.

“I think I’ll leave the heights to you primates.” The zebra says not wanting to think about heights.

“And I’ll leave… eating grasses? To you equines.” Hank pauses for a second, “ I don’t really know what y’all can do that I can’t, minus flying and magic of course.”

They both just laugh at the comment before Hank takes his hands out of the sink and wipes them on his pants, “Well want to get going? It won’t be long until sunset and we got some walkin’ to do.”

“Sure. Let’s get going. Do we need to bring anything other than ourselves?” Zecora asks as Hank looks over his kit he hadn't taken off to make he was still all there.

“Uhh yeah. I’d bring your staff.”

“Do you plan on us getting attacked?” The zebra asks a little surprised by the recommendation.

“Of course.” Picking up his rifle out of the corner he checks the chamber and slings it over his shoulder, “I plan for most everything. C’mon let’s go.” Stepping out of the door he waits for the zebra to follow and closes the door behind her as she exits the cabin.

The staff balanced across her back Hank was surprised at her ability to keep it almost entirely as she moved.

“I get the feelin’ you’re a little better with that staff than you’ve let on.”Hank says watching as the zebra kept the staff in the same place on her back despite walking and turning her head.

“Why do you say that?” Zecora looks up to Hank’s face.

“Well usually when someone is that relaxed and familiar to the point where they can balance it like it’s just another part of their body with a weapon they are usually pretty proficient with it.”

Quietly laughing Zecora looks back ahead, “You are a perceptive one aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be alive right now if I wasn’t.” Hank answers back simply and honestly.

“Let’s just say I have spent most of my life learning how to, and using, a staff. It’s not what I’d call well my calling in life but it’s probably my second best skill if I had to list them in order.”

“And how old are you?” Realizing he’d never asked for Zecora’s age Hank finally does so.

“How old are you?” Zecora automatically shoots back.

“You know I can’t tell you.” The human answers while scanning the brambles they were walking next to.

“No, I don’t know why you can’t tell me. All I know is that you won’t for some reason and until you tell me I’m not going to tell you.” A small mischievous glint in Zecora’s eye Hank doesn’t respond verbally or physically to what she said as he was too absorbed in looking at a shape he thought was something but turned out to be nothing, “Fair.”

Turning back to face down the road Hank looks at the sun’s position in the sky and hums, “Maybe we should spar sometime. Hand to hand is my favorite kind of fighting you know, especially knives.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” The zebra looks up to the human just as he cracks a smile and laughs to himself.

“I suppose.”

Staying quiet for the next few minutes as they walked down the dirt road both human and zebra were enjoying each others company and the cooling air on their skin and fur. The only thing to break the silence every ten or so seconds was Hank turning quickly to a slight change in color or movement in the environment that he instinctively had to check, even sounds of birds would chirping would trigger a response.

Watching Hank out of the corner of her eye, which was not hard to due with where pony and zebra eyes are placed, as he walked next to her she realized that she’d never really seen Hank out in the wild. She knew he was twitchy, if she made a sound behind him she would always catch him looking behind him at her out of the corner of his eye but this was a whole new level.

Listening to the pounds of gear that he always seemed to have on him shift rather violently she looked to him only to find that he was walking with his back turned to her now but still moving forward down the road. Noticing that his rifle was raised up she traced where he was aiming only to see a squirrel on a low branch running the opposite direction from them. Following the squirrel for two seconds with his rifle Hank suddenly dropped the rifle back into a relaxed position and spun so he was walking forward normally again before looking down to the zebra and smiling.

Looking back in front of them Zecora continued to watch Hank and his movement fascinated at how much information he was taking in and processing seemingly unconscious that he was even doing it.

Going over a small hill that Hank of course had his rifle raised for Zecora immediately noticed the white fence alongside the road and the seemingly infinite number of apple trees behind it.

“Who lives there if you know?”

“Down that lane there is where Mac, Applejack, Granny, and AB live.” Hank answered while still scanning around them.

“Sounds like you know them well.”

“Oh I do.” Looking at the white fence Hanks answers, “Good people, if you ever needed help I’m sure you could go to them and they’d help you.”

Walking past the orchard they continued down the path a ways further toward their destination, “It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet them Zecora. Have you even gone into the town yet?”

“No I haven’t and I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet some other ponies.”

“C’mon, this way.” Hank motions for Zecora to follow him of the road and into the woods, “You should go into town sometime, they probably wouldn’t care about a zebra too much.”

“I guess.” Stepping over a log Zecora partially dismisses, “I don’t really want to though considering on how they treat you.”

Rifle raised Hank swings around a tree checking their left before swinging back around to check their right, “I’m the incarnation of evil and death to them, you look exactly the same as them minus the stripes and mohawk, I haven’t seen a pony with a mohawk yet. I’m sure you’d fit in fine.”

“I don’t know.”

“I ain’t sayin’ that you have to make friends with the entire town but you need to know more people than just me. I ain’t gonna be around forever.”

“What do you mean by that?” Becoming a little upset about what Hank had just said Zecora asks narrowing her eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean, people like me don’t live long lives.” Shrugging at his own fate Hank looks behind him to the slightly aggravated zebra.

“You will live as long of a life as you let yourself.” The zebra says as she speeds up to shorten the distance between her and the human, his longer legs and less limited range of movement lending itself better to the forested environment.

Sighing at the Zebra’s words Hank slows down a little as they near the edge of the woods, the light of the lowering sun beaming through the trees in front of them to the left, “It’s inevitable Zecora, and that’s okay.”

“No it is not.” She says firmly, “You can stop your nonsense whenever you want.”

Not saying anything about the comment Hank just exhales gently again, “Even if I stopped getting hurt and lived a dreadful and dull sheltered life I figure I have an expiration date that ain’t too far off.”

Becoming a tad annoyed at the human stubbornness Zecora only snorts in response.

“How long do ponies and zebras live anyway? I know it can be pretty old.”

“A hundred and twenty isn’t uncommon and a hundred and fifty is the longest I’ve known personally.”

Stopping dead in his tracks Zecora was worried that he’d something and started to get nervous before getting close enough to see that he was laughing so hard he wasn’t even making any noise.

“W-What is so funny?” Perplexed Zecora asks causing hank to hold out a hand in her direction.

Leaning over and gasping for air Hank started to calm himself down, “O-Oh f-fuck that’s great.”

“What is!?”

“You know how long a human lives with top notch health care?”

“How?” Zecora asks not knowing what was so funny

“F-Fucking eighty!” Hank bursts into laughter again.

“E-Eighty! That’s it? Eighty years?”

“Y-Yeah, and that’s if all goes well.”

“Do you think you could make it to eighty?” Zecora asks already expecting what he was going to say.

“Fuck no.” Hank laughs, “Me? I’ll be willin’ to bet that I make it to late thirties mid forties before my body gives in.”

“W-Why so young?”

“I mean that’s IF something else doesn’t kill me before that.”

Laughing a little more Hank starts walking forward again to the edge of the trees. Following behind the human Zecora was baffled at how a person could care so little about dying that their own inevitable death is a laughing matter to them.

Stepping out of the trees and into the falling sun’s light Zecora watched from just inside of the forest as Hank stood completely still staring at the setting ball of fire. Slowing walking up not to disturb the human Zecora paused as a faint snap came from a small twig under her hoof causing Hank’s muscles to visibly tense and his arms to rise into a fighting stance before he pushed the impulse away with a long exhale.

His previously tense body slowly loosening his shoulders dropped a little before he cautiously lowered himself into a sitting position, his right leg straight out in front of him while his left elbow rested on his raised left knee.

Lying her staff down off to her right side Zecora sits down next to Hank and looks at the setting sun along with casting glances to the human. Watching him out of the corner of her eye she watched as he slowly reached to his chest with his right hand pulled the pistol free from its holster.

Worried about what he was planning to do she looked at the pistol in his lap as his thumb nail slowly clicked over each line of scoring on the hammer before looking up to his face as he let out a slow and shaky breath while still looking dead ahead at the sunset.

Slowly breaking his silver eyes from the golden glow Hank looked down to the revolver in his grip and the colors reflecting off its stainless steel frame and cylinder. Gently running his thumb along the shiny surface putting small smudges all the way down the barrel he gripped the pistol correctly and brought it up to his forehead, the cold steel of the cylinder familiar to his skin.

Holding the revolver to the bare skin of his forehead Zecora watched as Hanks eyes clamped shut and his breathing become shaky. Sitting in the same position for nearly a minute Zecora watched silently not knowing if she should intervene or not.

Starting to reach for his arm she stops as Hank whispers something. Not quite hearing what Hank said he repeats it again and little slower.

“Tha mi gad ionndrainn. Tha mi ga ionndrainn gu lèir.”

Hearing it clearly now that she was focusing on what he was saying Zecora wasn’t able to understand what he had said but definitely knew it wasn’t equish or any language she knew.

Starting to pull the pistol away from his forehead he hesitates before lowering back down to his lap and staring at it. A few minutes passing as the human looks down to the gun in his grasp the falling sun slowly sinks under the horizon and is replaced by the moon casting the land in a pale silver sheen.

“Cha dìochuimhnich mi.” Hank says solemnly before slowly putting the revolver back in the holster on his chest and looking up to the now dark and star clustered sky.

The next half hour passing by at a comfortable pace as the human and zebra both sat under the stars not saying a word to each other Zecora looks away from the town lights as Hank finally makes a sound.

Rubbing his neck and cracking it from side to side he groaned as he tried to loosen the vertebrae back up from their extended time of looking up at the night sky.

Wincing at the sharp grinding sounds that didn’t sound like they should be coming from a living being Zecora watched as the human stirred.

“Are ya ready to head back?” Hank asks looking over to Zecora.

“If you are ready I will follow.”

“Alright.” With a groan Hank pushes himself to his feet and brings the rifle from his shoulder back into his hands, “Thanks again for letting me drag you out here, I know we didn’t talk but it was nice not to be alone for once.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of saying no.” Zecora smiles back while picking her staff back up.

Waiting until the small zebra got the staff rebalanced across her back Hank started walking once she was completely re situated. Following beside the human they walked next to the trees until turning and walking down the road that eventually led back to the cabin.

“I do have a question for you Hank.” Zecora announced out of the blue.

“Hm?”

“What happens if I die before you?”

Hearing the question Hank’s mind immediately jumped to what it would be like seeing Zecora’s dead body mangled on the ground like most of his friends ended up. The image causing his eyes to slam shut he took a deep breath before reopening them, “It means I will have failed my job… Again.”

This chapter really took a while and the next one will most likely as well. I'm really busy at the moment and my inspiration for writing is at a all time low spot. Another problem that I think I've ran into is that I have no planned arc or story map as to where and what Hank is supposed to get up to. This even goes for what I've already written and I'm now at a point that I need to think of a direction to go in. I'm not a responsible author as you can tell.

Either way I hope you still find a way to enjoy this chapter.

Also, because I'm a fucking retard I forgot to link this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EWqTym2cQU which was the whole shtick for the last two titles and was supposed to go in the last notes box.