Notice: Another chapter in 3rd person just to really see what I think

“Are you totally sure ponies like fish?” Hank asked putting the second glass casserole pan into the small wood stove that sat in the middle of the cabin.

“It is a little late now don’t you think? You’ve already put fish in both dishes and cooked one.” Zecora responded, sweat slowly beading on her fur from the heat three hours of the stove running provided in the small house even though all the windows and door was open.

Closing the iron door on the stove and stepping away from it Hank dried some of the sweat from his brow and arms with an old tee shirt, “Well you know for a species so disgusted at the idea of eating meat to turn around and say fish is okay is a little weird.”

Understanding the slight hypocrisy he was getting at the Zebra tisked, “I don’t make the rules.” She holds up both hooves, “I just know that the people back in my village liked fish from time to time. Me included.”

“You equines make no sense you know that?”

“What do you imagine we think about you? With your small eyes and small nose and unreadable face.” Zecora shot back.

“Damn you make it sound like I’m a fuckin’ statue.” Walking over to the fridge and opening it Hank pulls out a carrot before taking a bite out of it with a crisp snap.

Sighing a little as a breeze blows through the door cooling her hot skin Zecora closes her eyes, “Not too far off.”

Having nothing to add to what she said Hank dries some more sweat from his hair before walking to the door and turning back around to the zebra who still had her eyes closed, “C’mon let’s go outside you’re burning up in here.”

Walking outside and following Hank to the stream she noticed that while sweating heavily the heat didn’t seem to be bothering him at all.

Jumping down into the stream Hank stirred the soaking clothes around in the white plastic hamper he had put there in the morning.

“You don’t seem very uncomfortable with the heat of the sun or the wood stove in the cabin.” He hears from his right. Looking over to the small zebra he smirks, “Nah, heat ain’t nothing really. I mean it’s not preferred, but I’ll take it over freezing to death.” Taking the last bite of the carrot he had in his mouth he throws that leafy part on top into the stream and watches it slowly float away, “I’ll never complain about heat ever again after those winters.”

“I do prefer heat over cold as well.” Zecora agrees before realizing that the limit of her experience in the cold had been the nights in the desert she had grew up in. She didn’t know what kind of cold Hank was implying

“That being said I’ll complain about humidity all I fucking want.” He laughs taking the basket out of the water and sets it on the small bridge.

Watching as he wrung out each article of clothing, twisting it hard back and forth until no more water dripped free, Zecora focused on his arms enjoying the sight of his muscle and veins moving under his scarred flesh.

“Whatcha starin’ at stripes?” Hank asked trying not to smirk too obviously as he watched Zecora out of the corner of his eye.

“Huh!?” Zecora looked away fast realizing that she had been asked something.

Lying a shirt out flat on the wood bridge Hank smiled, “Ah. Nothin’.”

Knowing she had been caught the zebra squinted her eyes and sneered at the snarky human as he chuckled at her.

Pushing himself out of the creek with a grunt, the white hamper under his arm Hank ruffled the mohawk of his zebra friend and patted her on the back of the neck as he walked to the garden.

Stopping at the garden Hank slowly scanned the plants extremely happy with the state of the small plot and the food it provided. Hank had always liked the idea of being as self reliant as possible and getting your own food is a major part of that.

Hanging the rest of the wet clothing along the top of the woven fence to dry Hank spotted some of the green blobs that blended into the plants move a little and realized that at least twenty of the oversized tree frogs were watching him with their horizontal pupils.

“That’d be real creepy if they weren’t frogs.” Hank backed away from the garden before walking back to the cabin, looking over his shoulder to the garden a few times to make sure the extremely territorial frogs weren’t following him.

Throwing the hamper into the corner Hank walked over to the stove and opened the cast iron door, the sudden heat making him shield his face he looked back to the dish and pried the tin foil off the top with his knife and poked a piece of fish finding it nowhere near tender enough.

“That does smell great.” Zecora says walking into the cabin and smelling the air.

Still hunched over the stove Hank put the tin foil back on all the way and closed the door before standing and turning around, “Yeah?”

“Mhm. What goes into it again?” Standing in the doorway to catch as much breeze as she could Zecora asks.

“Um well there’s green beans, peas, carrots that have been cut into slices and boiled a little, preferably tilapia or pollock but this fish is really good actually, some dill that you found, pepper, a pinch of salt, lemon pepper which you also found, and I’d usually put some turmeric in it but the stuff I had was more akin to stone than a spice.” Counting over his fingers Hank nods, “That’s it.”

“Will the lack of turmeric hurt the dish much?” Zecora asks.

“No, not at all, the amount that you’d put in is so minute you can’t really even taste it to be honest.”

“So why do you put the turmeric in if it cannot even be tasted?”

“I dunno,” He shrugged leaning his rear end against the top corner of the countertop, “Good for the heart or something?”

Thinking a little Zecora eventually nods, “Yeah that’s true. Now I am going to go back outside because it is far too hot in here for me right now.”

Watching her walk out the door Hank turns around and opens the fridge going to the very back where a pair of cold Irish Red sat. Taking one out and letting the door slowly close itself he hits the edge of the bottle cap on the edge of the counter top popping it off with a hiss from the released carbonation.

Putting the beer to his lips he sighs and relaxes against the counter more before scrunching his face, “Hey wait a minute.” He calls out to the zebra hoping she was within ear shot still.

“Yeah?” Hank hears faintly.

Walking outside beer still in hand he looks around not seeing the striped equine before spotting a black and white head peeking over the bank of the stream.

“You’re from a desert so how is that too hot for ya?” He raises his voice a little pointing to the cabin.

Jumping onto the top of the bank Zecora looks back at the human as he starts to walk towards her, “There is no air circulation in there it is different than the deserts of Zebrica. Not to mention that not all of Zebrica is deserts. You know?”

Taking another drink from the beer he wipes his mouth, “Not particularly, I’ve never been.”

“Fair.” She accepts walking back into the stream and lying down on her stomach, the sudden coldness making her breath hitch for a second.

“Feels nice doesn’t it?” Hank asks before taking another swig.

“Very.” Zecora answers simply closing her eyes and enjoying the water as it flows past her.

“Fuck it.” Hank mumbles prompting Zecora to crack an eye and look to the human as he bent over untying his boots.

Closing her eyes again she opens them upon hearing metal clank together and a thud immediately after. Watching Hank as he unbuttoned the slightly torn camouflage pants he wore she also watched as he pushed them down his legs before the clothing fell around his ankles.

Kicking himself out of the pants he slips off his socks and walks to the bank of the stream before lowering himself into it. Walking a few feet down from Zecora where the water went from a few inches above the ankle to just over mid shin he lowers himself down and sits down in the stream before leaning back and resting his head on the wall of the bank.

Going for a sip of the beer he still had in his hand he takes just enough to taste before resting his hand and bottle on top of his left thigh.

Turning herself around Zecora looked at Hank surprised that he was showing so much skin. She’d seen his legs before sure but being able to see any skin that wasn’t above the neck and his arms was very rare.

“The staring really isn’t making any more comfortable Z.”

Looking up to Hank’s face Zecora saw that his eyes weren’t open and was a little confused at how he saw her. About to say something she saw his left eye open all the way and his tiny pupil look right at her.

Hank’s eyes always had a way of unsettling the zebra with their small size, slightly predatorial appearance, and fast movements but she had no idea that it was possible for a creature with front facing eyes to look that far to their peripheral.

An unsettling feeling growing in Zecora’s chest and stomach she breaks eye contact and looks down to his chest, “Sorry.”

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto the dirt bank Hank slowly takes another drink before pushing the bottle a ways into the pea gravel creek bed to keep it a little cooler, “I have to admit, this is nice. Just sitting here in the cool water with no extra worries and concerns.”

“I’ve never seen you relax and just do nothing before, I must admit it’s a little strange.” Zecora says as the human in front of her lays his head against the wall of the creek.

Taking a moment Hank just sits still in the water listening to it flow around him as he takes in the cool sensation, “Yeah, we’ll see how long it lasts.”

His idle state already letting his mind wonder back into the past he knew it wouldn't be long before his thoughts got the better of him, he at least hoped for five minutes.

Keeping his breathing calm Hank’s hands shook as he held onto his knees trying to steady them.

“I’m not being shot at, I’m not being shot at, nobody is dying, I’m not there.” He repeated to himself in a low tone as Zecora watched nervously and in worry.

She didn’t know what to do to help her friend out, she’d never seen anything like what Hank had been going through in anybody else. It was obvious he was guilty about something and had been through a lot but she didn’t know what he had been through exactly, due to him never telling her minus small blurbs, she had no idea why it seemed like he had such a bad case of psychosis.
Just as she was about to call out to Hank and walk up to him he jolts violently and his eyes snap open to show his pupils were as small as pinpricks, barely visible to the zebra.

In less than a second he had taken out the revolver that always sat on his chest and had it held in both hands. Taking a half step back to get out of the way of the human she watches as he spins around in a kneel and points his revolver over the edge of the stream bank.

“Come and get me!” Hank yells to nobody starting to pull the trigger on his revolver but freezes half way realizing that the shades of green, brown, and yellow didn't match the drab greys and blacks of the city he was in inside his head.

Slowly letting his finger off the trigger he looks left and right for muzzle flashes from around corners and over concrete barriers.

Seeing that none of the threats he was thinking of were there he took a deep breath and slowly slides back down into the creek bed. Holstering the revolver Hank looks down to the water and dips his fingers into it feeling it cool his nerves.

Slowing breathing in and out he pulls his hand from the water and looks up to Zecora that was looking back at him with sad eyes.

“I’m a real fuckin’ mess ain’t I?”

Not waiting for a response his pushes himself up out of the creek bed, quickly collects his gear, and heads back to the cabin redressing as he walked toward the structure.

Watching the human walk away from her Zecora looks away from him to where he was sitting just moments ago realizing he had left his beer stuck in the gravel of the stream.

Walking over to the bottle and picking it up with her mouth she climbs out of the streambed with a little more difficulty than her much taller counterpart. Making her way toward the cabin in a half trot she reaches the door only to see the human close the door on the bathroom.

Turning and walking to the small coffee table that was littered with spent casings and other assorted objects used in death dealing Zecora sets the half drank beer next to the wet stone Hank was using this morning on his bayonet.

Looking back towards the door the golden brown and blued steel of the rifle Hank was about to start carving into catches the zebra’s attention through the corner eye.

Zecora had gotten pretty accustomed to the sight, sound, and foreign smell of burnt powder that came with the tools Hank used so much but she had never really interacted with one before.

Her intrigue peaking the zebra walks over to where the rifle was leaning against the couch and slowly reaches out a hoof to touch it. Poking it quickly and retracting as if it would bite her Zecora found that nothing happened, nothing went boom, nothing died.

Reaching out again she holds the frog of her hoof against the cold metal of the rifle and runs it down to where the action was. Taking her hoof off she hops up onto the couch behind where the rifle was leaning and looks down to the bolt.

Hearing Hank bump around in the bathroom and mumble something she takes her hooves away from the rifle and makes sure he wasn’t coming out before reaching for it again. Grabbing it in both hooves and lifting it up she was surprised at the weight and sets the butt of the gun on the couch cushion she was sitting on between her rear legs.

Nervously adjusting her grip so the rifle was held up in the crook of her left hoof she looks down to where she’d seen Hank move a part around.

“So you pull this back?” She asks herself trying to pull the bolt back to no avail, “No, not that maybe…” Lifting up a little Zecora feels the bolt move and a small smile works its way onto her face at figuring the weapon out.

Slowly lifting the bolt up she feels and hears it click before pulling back a little and watching as the well used and oiled bolt falls back to the rear of the action illisiting the telltale click clak she’d heard before.

Smiling at herself for figuring it out and doing it her smile starts to fall as all the sounds in the bathroom suddenly stop.

Knowing exactly what he heard Hank’s body freezes in place, pausing from putting his other arm through the new shirt he was trying to put on he slowly lowers his arms and pulls the revolver from the holster that was sitting on the sink.

Slowly walking to the door he puts his left hand on the knob before ripping the door open and raising the revolver to the door.

Nothing in the door or outside at that angle he quickly sweeps his gaze and revolver over the interior of the cabin only seeing Zecora on the couch. Switching back to outside he side steps out of the bathroom and keeps his revolver pointed at the door as he quickly makes it toward the other side of the cabin.

Pointing the revolver out of the kitchen window as he got to that angle he sweeps from side to side seeing nothing before heading back to the door and leaning out, checking far east and then switching to far west.

Nothing catching his eye once again he steps outside and checks all around the cabin for who was around only to find nobody. Pausing and sitting still, his back pressed against the cabin he takes a deep breath and lower the hammer on the revolver.

“Must be hearing things again I guess.” He says quietly sticking the barrel of the revolver in his pocket before pulling his shirt all the way down. Walking back around to the door of the cabin he takes one step in and freezes looking at the rifle in Zecora’s grasp.

Staring at his rifle he slowly looks down to the action and sees that it was open realizing exactly where the sound came from.

Looking from the rifle to the frozen still zebra he notices just how scared she looked staring back at him, just how hard she was breathing.

Hank really wanted to be mad for making him jump like that but he couldn’t be, she didn’t know he’d react like that and he knew that she had no ill intentions.

Trying his best to look non threatening, which he knew was near impossible with how he looked, he walks into the cabin, “So you finally go curious huh?” He asks making Zecora visibly relax.

Sitting next to Zecora on the couch he sets his revolver on the table and looks over to her with a smile, “So what do you want to know?”

Scanning over the town, glass casserole pan in hand, Hank takes a deep breath thoroughly enjoying the scent of lavender that floated in the breeze before starting down the hill. His watch displaying seventeen thirty-seven Hank continues down the hill closing on the entrance to the little town. Getting close enough to where he could see the pupils of the guards looking at him he started to think about how he could fuck with them today.

Not wanting to start anything with the annoying little equines he settles on something purely psychological. Walking within thirty feet of the pair he gives his largest tooth filled smile he could while making sure his eyes stayed just as cold as usual. The two guards’ posture immediately becoming nervous he makes sure to keep the pressure on and spins around as he passes them, starting to walk backwards away from the duo.

The edges of his mouth starting to twitch and burn with the extended exertion he drops his smile and spins on his heel, walking normally again.

Watching the biped walk deeper into the town they were assigned to protect the two hold stock still unwilling to take their eyes off of the man as he walked ever so deeper in the town, disrupting the ponies who were still out and about.

Disappearing from sight the two guards slowly look to each other, both of their mouths slightly agape in shock, “What the buck is that thing?” The slightly taller pegasus asks.

“I dunno dude. Can you imagine going into those woods and knowing that,” The smaller pegasus points in the direction Hank disappeared in, “is most likely following you?”

Shivering a little at the thought the unicorn stamps his front hoof in an attempt to get the uneasy feeling that seemed to take over his entire body under control, “I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do when it walks into town, we can’t fight it, we can’t stop it from doing anything! I mean what can we do? There’s no way any of us have a chance against it.”

“Buck it. I’m not gonna think about, all I know is that I am getting the buck out of this town when I can.”

“No kidding.”

While the two guards had a small discussion about him Hank had almost made it to the hospital in search of where he could find Readheart’s home, realizing he had not had the forethought of asking where she lived when he proposed his idea.

Most of the ponies in the hospital lobby chatting happily amongst one another suddenly found their peace thoroughly disturbed when the hospital doors swung open to reveal The Everfree Monster directly in their presence.

Now deadly quiet in the lobby, the only thing that could be heard were the clicks of his boots on the cold tile floor as he walked to the front desk where a new receptionist was stuck in horror at what was walking toward her.

Hating how silent it got all of the sudden Hank looked around him just to be sure before looking down to the receptionist as she shook and stared back at him with massive wide eyes.

“Ya know where Redheart lives?” Hank asks as the receptionist continues to shake and stare back unblinking.

“What the fuck?” Hank says under his breath starting to get a little worried about the pony.

Setting down the casserole dish he slowly reaches out a hand but pauses right before the ponies’ nose and extends his pointer finger. Slowly closing the gap the pony moves back a little but stops letting his finger gently collide with the tip of her nose.

Having no effect whatsoever Hank retracts his hand and rests it on the cool table top before looks behind him to his right and left only to find the entire population of the lobby staring at him. Looking back at the ponies briefly he turns back around taking a deep breath in through his nose and out of his mouth, “Hospitals.”

The paranoia gaining more and more control over the human with every second he stayed in the sterile building the ponies in the room tensed as he slipped the revolver from his chest and peaked around the corner of the entrance to the left corridor with the weapon raised.

Putting his pistol to the low ready and walking into the long hallway he noted the staircase at the end of the hall; keeping his peripheral on it as he passed closed doors with his back almost pressed against the opposite wall’s tiling.

All the ponies in the lobby watching the human, and the ones that couldn’t see moving so they could, they watched as he proceeded down the hallway checking every door and peaking into every room he could through the small vertical glass window in the doors as he passed in a smooth and practiced fasion.

The thing that seemed the most out of place to the ponies other than the strange forest dwelling killer was the complete lack of sound he was making as he walked almost sideways down the hall.

Reaching the second to last door upon hearing laughter from inside Hank peaks through the small window seeing one of the nurses that was with Redheart when he first came in. Fastly closing on the door about to rip it open he stops himself realizing that he wasn’t trying to breach and / or clear the room. Clearing his throat he reholesters the revolver before pushing the door open and stepped into the room.

“Pardon me but I got a question to ask either one of ya.” Hank asks as politely as he could.

The voice sounding familiar to Quick Pinch she turns around a little faster than her counterpart facing the man first and pauses once she realized just what had walked in on them. Her new trainee from Manehattan turning a little slower the young pony turns around expecting to face a pony, or at least something pony height and is met with a pair of knees right at her eye level. Slowly looking up to find the head on what she was faced with The young mare reaches right to Hanks face as his eyes snap and lock to her.

A small chirp coming from the tiny mare she turns and bounds over the bed as the sounds of hooves on tile are heard quickly scurrying under the raised mattress.

Both Hank and Quick Pinch looking to the bed they both blink a few times and look to each other.

“So uh, would you happen to know where Red lives?” He asks looking over to the bottom of the bed noticing the big eyes looking back at him before quickly zipping out of sight.

“Well yes I would, but why do you need to know?” Quick asks back very curious as to why the strange creature would need to know, her thoughts racing with possibilities.

“I made supper.”

“You made supper for RedHeart?” Quick asks back a grin spreading across her face.

“Yeah.” Hank confirms wondering why the pony was smiling at him like that.

I knew it! I just knew it! RedHeart totally has the hots for this thing, not that I wouldn’t say that I’m not at least a little curious about what he’s like. Oh and he is Definitely a He. My goodness!
Quick thought to herself laughing internally, I can’t wait to ask about how it goes, what they get up to, how they get up to it. I want all the det-”

“Hey, you having a stroke or somethin?” Hanks calls out snapping QuickPinch out of her internal monologue.

“What? No. I just.” Stopping herself for a moment and calming herself down Quick looks up to the human and adopts a little more of a serious tone, “You know two ponies came into the hospital not to long ago; broken legs, brain bleed, shattered skull, broken ribs, punctured lungs. They about died, in fact they’re both still here and ones still in a coma-”

“What’s your fuckin’ point?” Hank crosses his arms knowing exactly where this was going.

Frowning at his curt language and tone Quick decides to get to the point, not knowing what ‘Hank’ was liable to do, “How do I know you won’t hurt Red? You don’t exactly have a reputation of being peaceful and kind now do you?” Quick knew she was entirely outmatched by what was in front of her buy there was no way she was going to possibly put a friend in danger. She may be gossip prone and perhaps a little too joking at times but the safety of her friends and patients was no light subject to the mare.

Giving an exasperated laugh and looking from side to side Hank pinches his nose, “Why would I have any rhyme or reason to hurt Red?”

“I don’t know why would you?” Quick shoots back her voice full of all the snarkiness she was known for.

His eyes closed a low grumble escaped his throat as he rubbed them, his patience ran completely thin, “To hell with this.”

Turning and walking out of the door Quick’s face turns to shock as the human starts to walk away from her.

“Hey, where are you going!?” The mare calls out following the human into the hall.

“Where I can find somebody to tell me what I need without talkin’ in god damn circles. Do any of you ponies know how to get to the fucking point?” Looking back over his shoulder he says shortly.

The already irate mare only having her buttons pressed more she sneers at the back of Hanks head, You’re lucky you’re so damn tall because if you weren’t I would of hit you upside the head by now.

Continuing to follow him down the hall they both reach the lobby where the ponies scramble back into their seats at the return of the human.

“I’m not done talking to you yet.” Quick stomps her hoof getting Hank’s attention.

Turning his head slightly toward her he huffs, “Well I’m done talkin’ to you.” Picking up his tin foil covered casserole dish Hank turns to leave however Quick was not finished with him yet. Getting up on her rear legs and bracing herself against his knees she pushes her hardest but doesn’t budge him at all.

“What now?”

“Are all of whatever you are so rude?” Pinch asks tired of the man’s attitude.

Giving a curt laugh Hank gives a humorless smile, “Yeah. Yeah, sure are.”

Stepping back and getting back on all fours Quick shakes her head exasperated, “That’s a shame.”

“Yeah tell me how good of a mood you would be in if you knew you’re never going to see a face similar to your own ever again.” Hank laughs and makes for the door.

Trying to process what he meant repeats what he said in her mind, Never see a face similar to your own ever again? What does that me- “Wait!” Quick calls out spinning around and looking to the man as he pauses, the door to the hospital half open showing the dimming light of day.

“Are you saying that you’re all alone?” In a somber tone she asks as Hank looks back at her with an unreadable face.

Looking into his small eyes Quick see what she thought was sadness in them before quickly turning back to as expressionless as ever, “Yeah, I’m alone, I’m the last one of me you’ll ever see. Good for you right?”

Feeling really bad all of the sudden Quick wilts a little, “I-I’m sorry. What happened to the others?” She had a suspicion about what he was going to say but she hoped she was wrong, very wrong.

“They’re dead.” Quick hated being right sometimes.

“I mean surely there has to be a few tha-”

“No. No. I saw it myself, I fucking lived it, everyone is dead and if they ain’t it won’t be long till they are” In a second Hank had gone from completely stoic to extremely lively, it was so abrupt all the ponies in the lobby were surprised and taken aback.

“So are you going to tell me where red lives or not?”

“Yeah I... sure.”

A short series of loud knocks coming from her door RedHeart quickly gets off the couch where she was distractedly reading a book, trying to calm herself about her visitor who had yet to show.

Opening the door the red maned pony looks up and is met with the smiling face of Hank, “Sorry it took so long, I got hung up trying to find your place.”

Her heart starting to pick up its pace her mind was taken back to what happened just a few days earlier. She was too shocked to process what happened at the time but ever since she got home it was nearly impossible to rid her mind of the images of ponies flying through the air, screaming, and a very pissed off Hank bleeding profusely from a hole in the back of his head.

Now face to face with the same person who almost killed two ponies right in front of her, her mind was completely locked up.

“Hey- are you doin’ okay Red?” A light warm pressure on her shoulder she breaks from her flashback and looks to the large hand covering her entire shoulder, “If you ain’t feelin’ right I can just drop this off with ya. Though I’d warm it up a bit, it’s cooled a bit too much.”

Just noticing the foil covered dish in his hands RedHeart finally speaks, “N-No it’s fine, Please come in.” Stepping out of the doorway to the side she watches as Hank ducks down and steps inside before closing the door behind him with a light click.

“The smell of the dish in Hank’s hands finally reaching her nose she was surprised at how good it smelled. She knew Traditionally stallions were known to be the better cooks but she also knew that the stereotype had lost most of its weight before she was even born.

However judging by the scent coming from the glass dish RedHeart started to think it may still hold some weight, “So what did you make exactly?” She finally asks not being able to pin it down.

Setting it on the low, for him, kitchen table Hank looks around the kitchen for the stove before seeing it and heading for it, “Well first of all I hope you like fish.”

Humming in realization of what she was smelling Redheart watches Hank as he kneels down looking over her rarely used stove. Redheart was more of a simple salad or eat out mare.

“I don’t mind fish, as long as it’s the right kind. Do you need help with the stove?”

Clicking the knob back to off Hank scratched his head, “Yeah, I don’t see how it works, it’s not wood or gas. And I know it ain't electric. So where in the fuck do you light this thing.” He mumbles under his breath as Red walks over to the appliance.

“It’s heat crystal powered.” She states simply walking over and holding the rightmost knob down until a low hum emits from behind the tinted glass door.

“Oooookay.” Turning on his knees and picking up the dish he opens the door and sets it on the middle rack. Closing the door, he looks to the knob redheart just used and dials it to three seventy-five.

“So crystals huh?”

Walking past Hank as he stands up Redheart pulls out her usual chair at the spot she drank her coffee in the morning, if she came home that is.

“Well yeah, it is a pretty common system after all. You don’t know about crystals?” Sitting down in her chair she motions to the chair directly across from her, “Please, sit.”

Pulling the chair, that he absolutely dwarfed, out from the table Hank slowly lowers himself onto it, its wooden legs and supports groaning and creaking under the weight. Smiling awkwardly at the pony she looks back at the man, his knees peeking over the top of the table.

“Do you know how much do you weigh by chance?” Cocking her head to the side slightly she looks him over trying to imagine what his size was under all the gear he seemed to where everywhere.

Smirking a little he adjusts himself causing it to groan further in protest, “Care to take a guess?”

Scratching her chin Redheart hummed in thought. She had only ever seen a few minotaurs and even fewer yet that she had personally treated. Thinking all the way back to her schooling, in and out of the military, she tried to remember the average height and weight for a minotaur. Yet for some reason it escaped her. Placement of arteries: EZ. Organs: Are you fuckin’ brain dead? Of course. The musculoskeletal system: Couldn’t not know it. What a minotaur might weigh: Yeah Nah.

“Well judging by you height and muscle mass but slight lack in overall tone suggesting a healthy amount of body fat… I’d say a hundred and sixty, hundred and eighty stones tops.”

“Well you’re only about ninety to seventy off Red.”

Planting both hooves on the table and leaning forward she scoffs, “Horsefeathers, there’s no way.” Leaning back in her chair she looks back to him crossing her hooves, “Are you serious?”

Laughing and nodding Hank smiles at her, “Yeah, Yeah, Completely.”

Still not believing it she looks up to the ceiling, “No, there is no way in tartarus. You’re big but you are not that two hundred and fifty stones big. Do you have any idea the size of a minotaur that size?”

The only minotaurs coming to mind were the ones he saw in Appleloosa that one day and figuring out their weight wasn’t exactly on a list of things to do with them, “I haven’t in the slightest.”

“Well its big, I couldn’t tell you exactly but its way bigger than you.”

“I don’t really know what to say Red, I have a scale and that’s what it read.” Getting up from his chair carefully and taking a single step over to the stove he opens the oven door before pulling out his knife. Scooting back in her seat nervously at the sight of the blade Redheart wanted to tell herself he wouldn’t hurt her but she couldn’t really know after what she had seen.

“I’d say it’s back up to temperature.” Pulling his knife out of the small flakey piece of fish he wipes it on his pants and puts it back away. Looking up he sees a pair of green pot holders hanging from a small hook under the cabinets and takes them down before using them to set the dish on the top burners.

“So do you have plates of do you just mash your face into whatever dish you make yourself?”

Not wanting Hank to know just how much she really did just eat right out of whatever she had made, on the rare occasion she would cook anything, Red gets up and walks to the cabinets next to the human, “Yeah I have plates, what are you talking about?”

Taking down two plates of very plain jane white ceramic Red scoots over next to Hank on her rear hooves before setting the plates down and getting back on all fours, “That does smell really good, I’m surprised.”

“Oh you doubted me?” Putting a liberal amount on the first plate with a ladle he picked up next to the sink basin he sets it in front of the red haired pony.

“To be honest. Yeah I did, I really didn’t expect you to know how to cook at all.”

“Heh, Yeah I don’t blame ya.” Fixing his own plate he puts the foil back on top of the dish and sets the plate behind him at his spot.

Slowly sitting down on the tiny chair not to break it Hank listens to the chair creak and groan with every small movement wondering just how fat his really ass was and if he should try to lose some weight again.

“What are you thinking about?” Red asks sitting down herself; looking at the man across from her as he looked down and patted all around his thighs.

“Eh?” Looking up and seeing Red looking back at him he smiles, “Oh nothin’. Now come on I wanna see how you like it.” He gestures to the plate in front of her.

Turning her attention to the steaming dish in front of her Red takes another whiff before leaning down and taking an experimental first bite. Watching out of his peripheral as he unsheathed his knife and took a first bite of his own Hank watched closely as the pony chewed and swallowed.

“So?” Taking a small bite and setting the knife beside his plate, “Yay or neigh?”

Taking another bite and savoring it the red headed mare nods, “Definitely yay; this is so much better than what I usually eat.”

Smiling the human picks his knife back up and scoops a large amount onto the tip of the blade, “I’m glad I haven’t lost all of what my Grandma taught me.”

“Mmm-” Swallowing Redheart looks across the table to the human realizing that he did have to come from somewhere, he wasn’t just some anomaly that came out of the trees. Even if that’s exactly where her head went trying to explain him, “So your grandma huh? She taught you to cook?”

“...She taught me a lot more than just how to cook.” The human says in a low tone after a few seconds, “Learned a whole lot from that woman, I’ll never forget her.” Quickly looking back down to the half cleaned plate in front of him Hank slides some more of the dish onto the side of his knife and puts it into his mouth.

Watching the man Redheart winced every time he would bring the knife to his mouth expecting him to jump or show some other indicator of pain from the blade cutting into his lip or cheek. So far however the human while even at speed had not even nicked himself once. No matter how much of an overly tough cliche eating of the side of a knife was it did fit the man across from her rather well she had to admit.

Taking the time he was distracted eating Red decided to get a better look at his body and gear that was always with him. Scanning over his body the silky white mare noticed just how worn all of the gear was, even if she didn’t know exactly what something was or happened to be used for. A main theme did appear in his kit however and that was fighting.

Comparing his rigging to what she had worn and to what other members in her platoon wore back in her guard days it was clear that his kit focused much more on fighting than theirs had. He had only one container for water and a few more pouches she didn’t know the purpose of but he carried three blades with him. Yes while his webbing was low on provisions it was exceedingly high in killing potential.

“So you said you were a medic right?” Red peeps up getting Hank’s attention.

Wiping his knife on his shirt sleeve he reseaths it, done with his plate. “Eh technically, it wasn’t a typical conflict I was in so I never got all the training or all too much practice on bigger stuff. Basically if it bleeds I can stem it.”

“I know you have the knowhow but you don’t seem to have much in terms of kit on you.”

The man had wondered why the pony across from him was looking him up and down so thoroughly but now he knew, “Plenty for one person really.” Patting the small plastic box in its nylon pouch a few times he returns his hand to the top of the table, “Although with how many ponies keep getting hurt maybe I should pack a larger one. Oh I never got my artery clamps back by the way.” Remembering back to the day on the trail he points out.

Just remembering that day as well an ‘o’ forms in Red’s lips, “I have them in my desk at the hospital, just come by sometime and I’ll get them back to you.”

“Ah, alright thanks.” Hank smiled having no intention of going back to the hospital for any reason. His mind starting to go down the path of what had become of the hospitals back home he quickly thought of something to get off of that path.

“You said that you were in the guard right?”

Nodding Red slid out of her chair and brought her plate over next to dish of still warm casserole, “Yes I was, do you mind if I get more?” Pointing to the dish she asked the human.

“Course not, you’re who I made it for. Plus I’m full so take as much as you like.”

Looking between her plate and the rest of what was in the dish Red shrugs and instead grabs the entire casserole dish before turning on two hooves and walking a few steps to the table and setting it down in front of her seat, “Sorry if this is impolite to you but I was never really one for unnecessary steps and I see no need to put this on a plate if i'm going to finish it off.”

A smile working its way onto his scarred face Hank chuckles, “No please. Does this mean I can swear and all that shit? I know how hard swears mess with you ponies.”

“Go right ahead, I was in the guard for ten years, and not the guard that just stand around all day like statues.” Red smiles back.

“So are you saying that you saw action?”

Waiting to chew and swallow what she had put in her mouth Red holds up a hoof. “Yeah I went on a few deployments. Why do you ask?”

Nodding his head Hank hums, “Just curious is all, I didn’t know if whatever this country is called,” He waves his hand in the air a few times, “was or is engaged in any conflicts.”

“First of all we are in Equestria.” Red giggles, “And this country likes to keep its military actions out of the public view. War and fighting just aren’t things that are talked about all too openly here.”

“Huh.” Scratching his chin he shrugs, “So what were you up to on your deployments.”

“Just peace keeping as it’s called; on the border between Equestria and Saddlearabia.”

“Medical tents and services?”

“Yep.”

The conversation going quiet Hank shifts in his seat causing it to groan and protest further, “Something went down obviously, did you end up killin’ somebody?”

“That’s not a polite thing to ask you know.” Redheart responds looking back to the human disapprovingly.

“I know you want to ask me about that kind of thing too, this way we can just get on with it you know.”

Sighing half because of the memories from her last deployment and because of just how right Hank was she clears her throat, “No I never did but I watched as ponies died around me and I was the one to try to comfort them, of course. Now commander of the trail guard, Ironhoof, he’s put some bodies in the ground, me and him go a ways back.”

“Ha, didn’t know you ponies had it in ya.” Hank shakes his head smiling and looking down to the wood grain of the table.

Narrowing her eyes at the man Red sits up, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Me and you both know ponies ain’t the hardest bunch around, with a few exceptions of course like your uhhh Ironhoof was it? Yeah Ironhoof.” Smile still on his face he looks to the irate mare across from him.

Looking over the man’s face across from her tracing the scars that went in every direction Redheart leans back in her chair, “Well compared to you of course. You realize most of the ponies in this country have never seen anything like you or what you can do. I think they’re completely justified in their fear as well.”

Hank’s turn to look the person across from him over he grins, “It’s for the best even if I would never hurt them.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? You know everybody thinking you’re a monster?” Red asks not understanding how having ponies be afraid of you could be preferable under any circumstance.

The question seemed to make the human across from her deflate a little. His small smile that had been on his crooked lips since he first walked in the door slowly faded away to a completely blank unreadable expression as his small eyes stared right over the top of Redheart’s head.

Feeling her heart rate start to rise she wanted to jump out of her chair and get as far away as possible from the man but instead she held herself still and watched the human across from her. Noticing his chest slowly rise and fall at a calm pace she traced her way up to his eyes right before they snapped onto her own.

Her heart immediately jumping into her throat Red let out the smallest of squeaks hoping the man across from her hadn't heard it.

Letting out a long exhale Hank straightens out his back and sits up as much as possible, “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t but even if I was the most passive, peaceful person in the world they’d still be scared of me due to my appearance.”

Calming herself down she clears her throat and takes a deep breath trying to get her breathing back under control, “W-well I’m not going to say you’re wrong about that but you’d be surprised how ponies can warm up to you once they realize you’re not to be afraid of.”

“Kinda late for that Red.” Hank laughs, “Besides it really is better this way.”

Shaking her head Redheart leans forward becoming more than a little irritated at
Hank’s logic, not able to understand at all what he thought was okay about his relationship with the ponies in town, “How is it okay or better with how you treat and how you are treated with the ponies in town?”

“Because Red...” Leaning back in his chair and blowing a long exhale through his nose he pauses, “Look I am who I am, and who I am is much much different than any of you. If ponies are afraid they’ll get out of the way and stay out of trouble, I did fine with almost no social interaction other than what looked like people trying to bite my face off, I don’t need to talk to every soul on the street. I’d much rather they stay far out of my way and let me do my job.”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa two things,” Waving her hooves in front of her face Red stops the conversation, “Okay for one you make it sound like you’re our shepard. Hold on.” She holds up a hoof causing Hank to close his mouth, “and two you said: what looks like people trying to bite your face off. Are you implying you were in a zombie apocalypse?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose grumbles, “I didn’t mean to let that slip out.”

Leaning back in disbelief Redheart gawks, “Wait really?”

“They weren’t zombies.” The human says in a low tone.

“What? What do you mean they weren’t zom-”

“They had heart beats, they breathed, they ate, they shit, and stabbing one in the chest multiple times would put em down pretty effectively too. If they were ‘zombies’ in the traditional sense it’s the brain or bust.”

Not believing what she was hearing Red just stayed leaned back in her chair and tried to think about everything she just learned while Hank sat across from her looming up and down his arms at the bite marks and missing pieces of skin.

The silence lasting a few minutes Redheart slowly propped herself back up as Hank ignored her instead sat still clenching and unclenching his fists. Watching the human across from her doing this as he stared down at his horribly scarred arms.

“Is it hard to talk about?” She finally breaks to silence.

Another loud exhale coming from the man he takes a second, “I dunno I’ve never tried.”

“Well something had to go down right?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Still looking down at his arms he traces two fingers around what looked like to be a circular bite mark on his left arm, “Some things definitely went down.”

Patting the scar he looks up to Red only to see she was still looking at the offending bite, “Eyes are up here fire crotch.”

Snorting at the name the mare looks to the man, “Are you colorblind my hair is pink.”

“It’s close enough.” He waves off with a smile, “But does that mean the carpet does match the drapes?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She states with a roll of her eyes.

“That’s why I asked, I mean does it just stay the color of your coat down there of does it match your hair and tail colors?”

“It just matches your coat.” She says shaking her head at the man, “Are you telling me humans just have hair on your heads and crotches?”

“Yeah, I mean some people have more body hair than others but head, crotch, underarms, and face if you’re a guy are the main areas.”

“Really? Strange.”

The conversation stalling out as both human and pony alike pictured different things in their heads they both look up at each other at the same time and go to speak.

“So.”
“I-”

“Ope”
“Sorry”

Looking at each other not saying a word Hank holds up a finger and points to Red, “Okay go.”

“I was just thinking to what you said before the whole not quite zombies thing.”

“Infected, and yeah?”

“Well it’s not your job to protect ponies, we can take care of ourselves.”

Crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side he looks at the mare with a raised eyebrow, “Really now?”

“Yes, really.” She nods, “ You’re not our guardian and we don’t need one.”

Nodding along silently Hank uncrosses his arms, “So you’re telling me that if oh I dunno, fifty Shucks attacked this town the townsfolk and guard would handle okay? The very same guard that have the training of a children’s karate class and wear armor made of the heaviest and softest metal possible?”

Knowing the answer to be ‘no’ in her head immediately she wasn’t going to lose to this human even if he made a great dinner, her pride wouldn’t allow it, “Me and you both know that wouldn’t happen.”

“Really? So the two hundred shucks I killed the other day just a mile or so into the Everfree East of town couldn’t of walked the mile and seen all the defenceless little ponies and decided to make a gore nest out of this entire place?” Hank’s voice started to gain a little volume and conviction to it.

“You didn’t-”

“Oh but I did.” The human cuts off leaning forward, “I could show you where all those bodies are right now as they rot and turn into reddish ooze.”

The grin on the man’s face causing Redheart’s pupils to shrink and her heart to race she leans back in the chair trying to get some distance from the human. Seeing this and realizing what he was doing Hank closes his lips and leans back in his chair to give the mare some breathing room.

The implication of what hank had just said had again stunned the redheaded pony and forced her to think, “That is what all that noise was wasn’t it?”

Laughing a deep laugh Redheart was initially taken aback by she was surprised that even a laugh could be cold and sinister, she’d never heard anything like it.

“Yeah that’s what the noise was.” A small smile still present on the man’s face Redheart remembered the day it town.

“Well it sounded like the gates of Tartarus had opened up.”

“Yeah those fuckers really scream when they die.” Hank smiles before gaining a more serious demeanor, “Even though imagine what would happen if they got to town Red. It’d be a damn blood bath.”

Picturing the scene in her head her stomach starts to churn at the mental image, her pride pushed aside, “Yeah it would, there’s no way we could fight that.” Admitting that Hank was right she half expected him to laugh and belittle her and ponies for being weak but was surprised when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, that’s why I do my job.” Patting the mare’s shoulder a few times Hank takes his hand back and returns to his seat.

A small smile on her lips Red grimly hums to herself , “So why do you do it? Fight and kill? You don’t get paid, no one praises you, nobody in this town thinks you’re fighting to protect them. Why?”

“Well you know what they say…” The man pauses causing Red to scoot in a little bit and raise an eyebrow, “Love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

The chilling smile back on the man’s face Redheart felt like she was looking into the face of a wild animal not the face of a decently polite human.

“And who said I don’t get paid.”

“You get paid?”

“Kill enough of the right people or creatures you can bet somebody somewhere wanted ‘em dead.”

More than a little off put by how casual and seemingly unbothered by what he had admitted to doing Red felt conflicted at what to think about the man. Was he good? Was he bad? She had no idea what to think, he swung far to the good and bad at the same time in her eyes. His entire personality had her perplexed, “That doesn’t bother you? Killing other ponies for money? Wolves I understand no problem but other ponies?”

“No not particularly. Hell as long as they’re a piece of shit I’ll enjoy it.” Tapping his fingers on the table Hank thinks for a second causing his fingers to slow to a stop, “That being said I don’t hurt innocent people, but if you prove yourself to be evil well you’re done.”

“One pony really shouldn’t be able to play judge jury and executioner like that Hank, its murder.”

“That’s where me and you differ Red.”

“What we have different defenitions of murder?” Looking at the man incredulously Redheart sits up straight trying to seem as assertive as possible, “Do you have any idea how bucked up that is?”

“What is?” Hank asks not understanding what he said was wrong in the slightest.

“That you find it completely okay that you get to decide who lives and dies without any other input?”

“The people I hunt don’t have voided their right to live, they’re worth less than the dirt they’re gonna be buried under.”

Shocked at his words Redheart shook her head, “And who might you hunt?” She says the last word dripping with disgust.

“Rapists and murders mostly but anybody who threatens the ones I care for is immediately put on that list.”

“Isn’t killing murders a little ironic?” Red huffs.

“I don’t see how; they kill innocent people I kill them it’s a pretty simple concept.”

“Why not just put them in jail?”

“And give them food and shelter? Fuuuuuuuck no.” Hank had found the justice system back on earth flawed since he was just a little boy, people could kill others and sit behind bars or get out after they had been found “rehabilitated” while at the same time good people could get thrown in prison for just as long just because the government deemed it wrong to make a little whiskey or grow a little pot. It just didn’t add up to him, and now that he had found himself in a place where he could carry out his own justice he was happy to do it.

“That’s a pretty fatalistic view isn’t it? Anypony can change and be reformed. The answer isn’t always just to kill.”

“Not every person can be fixed Red, once you pass that line you can’t come back. Some people are just bad, it’s how it is.”

Knowing that she wasn’t going to change the man’s mind she thinks of one more thing, “You’ve crossed that line haven’t you?”

“I crossed that line a long time ago.” Hank answers immediately and honestly.

“So doesn’t that mean, by your logic, that you should be killed?”

“Plenty have tried, all have failed.” He gives red a grim smile, “Whatever gets me I deserve it but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let it happen.”

The white mare found it surprising that the man across from her was able and willing to own up to what he had seemingly done, at the same time she wondered what that may have been. She wasn’t brave enough to ask the man directly so that only left her imagination to think about the possibilities.

“And it’s not like I don’t have regrets.”

The sentence grabbing her attention she clears her head of her musings.

“Surviving is messy, you live and die on a thin line and sometimes you end up killing people on accident or killing people you really didn’t have to kill. But when you walk that thin line decisions much less pressing than encountering other people can mean ssst.” He hisses while dragging a thumb across his throat, “At least that’s how I try to explain it.”

Red knew what he meant, she’d lived that before, if not briefly. She was starting to understand why Hank thought and acted like he did, “How long were you in the shit?” She asks in the simplest was she could put it, her guardsmare self coming out a little.

“Well…” He fades off looking up at the ceiling counting something on his fingers, “She died in 2014 and that’s the beginning of the end for me so… mid to early 2014 and it was fall 2017 when I got thrown into this fag-tacular rainbow coated fever dream.”

The difference in calendar years being the first thing Red noticed she also found it curious that somebody's death was what Hank used as the start to the end of his world, Must of been somepony important to him.

“I’d just call it two or almost three years.” Hank finally answers before completely freezing up like a statue, “God it feels like it was so much longer than that.” He mumbled lowly lowering his head into his hands as his elbows propped up atop the table, “I mean I was injured for most of that time but still it just dragged and dragged on.”

That explains it, Redheart thought now knowing just how long Hank had been in such a terrible situation. In fact she respected the man more for his resilience and the pure fact that nopony she knew, herself included, could’ve made it through the same thing. His scars were enough proof of that.

The man still looking down at the table his fingers locked in his hair it was Red’s turn to reach across the table and lay a reassuring touch on the man’s shoulder.

His fingers loosening their grip on his scalp with a twitch he lowers he hands and sits back up straight disconnecting Redheart’s hoof from his shoulder. Looking at the pony across from him Hank gives a small smile that Redheart reciprocates, “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Well… no. Not really, but I figure sharing some details wouldn’t be bad. As long as we trade one for one.”

Redheart knew she was showing her discomfort at the idea but at the same time it was only fair. Looking at Hank’s face trying to see how he was feeling but almost immediately gave up knowing there was no way she would be able to get anything out of his face.

“That… sigh, sounds fair. I’m going to get something to drink.”

Slipping out of her chair and walking to the last cupboard The small pony opens up the wooden doors and looks at her modest collection.

Leaning to the left in his chair making it creek disconcertingly Hank smiles upon seeing the contents, “Now we’re cooking with diesel.”

Having moved to the living room at some point in the night they both shared their experiences in combat, even if Hank had done most of the talking due to his extensive past in the subject. Either way both human and pony had grown a little closer and respected one another more after seeing they both had some messy luggage they were still dealing with. Even if the subject matter was a little dark they both found ways to laugh and soon their stories became more and more joyful.

Having laughed until their sides hurt and their bottles were empty Red and Hank were both were leaned back in their respective chairs looking at the wooden ceiling chuckling occasionally as they reminisced of what had been shared.

“So you’re telling me there was a guy in your platoon that got shot in the ass twice within 5 minutes?” Hank asked stuttering in laugher.

“Y-Yeah it was like they were aiming for his cutie marks too!” Red doubled over laughing at the mental image, “The first arrow went right in his left flank and he started prancing around screaming: Oh my bucking god! I just got shot in the flank! What the buck!? What the buck!? That was funny enough but after we had calmed him down and got him back behind cover from all the arrows the second we were getting to move to a new position and the second we get out from cover an arrow goes right in front of my face and drills him in the other flank!”

Red hits the arm of the couch with her hoof howling in laughter.

Much the same happening to Hank he tried to get breathe in but couldn’t, making his face go cherry red.

“T-t-t-the poor stallion he just looked back to the arrow in his other flank before looking me dead in the eye and saying: “Why me?” In the saddest tone I think I have ever heard. Not to mention watching him run with two arrows just bobbing up and down.”

“He made it didn’t he?” Hank asked in between laughs.

“Oh yeah he’s fine.” Red dismisses with a wave of her hoof before using the same hood to wipe the tears from her face, “Do you have any other slightly humorous stories?”

“Well…” Hank smirks “This one time -” Stopping himself he looks to Red, “You know what nevermind.”

“Nevermind what?”

“I just don’t think you’d find this story funny in the slightest.”

“C’mon Hank, try me.”

Not wanting to sour the happy mood he sighs, “Look this is something you wouldn’t like, it’s much too violent and so on.”

Rolling her eyes Redheart scoffs, “I am not some little filly bitch alright, just tell the damn story.” The alcohol in her system making her much less reserved than normal she demands in a light tone.

Liking her forward and unfiltered nature Hank smirks and leans forward, “Well I was up maybe four stories up in this half burnt out apartment building...

<><><>

Treading extremely lightly and slowly, careful not to disturb any charred two by four or any other debris in a meaningful way a younger smaller Hank checked every corner as he followed the prints in the black ash.

Wanting to cough from the ash and particulate cocktail that floated around him Hank kept his mouth shut not wanting to make a sound and disturb the infected just a floor above. Reaching a double door way that lead to the top and last floor he crouched down and started his job.

Setting down the satchel that rested on his hip and reaching inside Hank started to assemble the explosive trap he had came up with. Essentially a large pipe bomb full of steel balls taken from a handful of rusty and seized bearings with a spring mounted firing pin on top that would drop and detonate when the trigger pin was pulled Hank started by mounting the anchor point to the trip wire on the opposite side of the door frame.

Working slowly and diligently wanting to be as quiet as possible making sure to not tip off his location to the large number of infected that was holed up on the top floor he drove the screws that secured the actual explosive to the wall with slow turns of his screwdriver. Running the fishing line from the anchor point to the trigger pin he secured it before raising the firing pin and inserting the trigger pin.

Hearing the shuffling of feet directly above him his heart started to race before it was forced to slow back down, Steady steady, haste will turn me into red mist right now. Making himself slow down he removed the tape that covered the hole where the blast cap went before reaching back into the satchel for a small black bag of blast caps.

His shaking fingers making it difficult to grab one of the small brass caps Hank finally gets one as the footsteps upstairs start to sound more like a square dance as the numerous infected milled about, waking from their slumber.

Starting to speed up just a little, not willing to waste the endless days of close calls tracking this cell or chance to test out his new traps Hank gently placed the cap in its slight indent before using the same piece of scotch tape to fix the cap in place, as a safety precaution of course.

Backing away from the now armed trap Hank smiled at the sight of his trap finally coming together, Hopefully you work as good as you look little fella. Smirking as he picked up the satchel he stopped as he heard feet moving toward the entrance to the stairs above.

The time to act being right now he pulled the Perrier bottle from the same satchel, unscrewing the top and pulling out the fuel soaked rag a few inches as he stepped over the trip wire. Pulling a silver zippo from his pocket and holding it in his left hand he crept up the stairs leading to the cell’s resting place.

The smell of shit and rot noticable from fifty feet outside of the building the scent was now overwhelming making the air humid and thick.

Peaking just enough of his head in view to scope out the situation Hank’s muscles were tense and jumpy, his eyes jumping to every target, as his brain sent a massive wave of cortisol, dopamine, and adrenaline crashing into his bloodstream.

Pupils contracting to pinpricks in an instant he locked onto the largest group of infected and ignited the molotov while rushing up the last few steps. Standing at the top of the landing before the large uncompleted top room he cocked his arm back and sent the molotov soaring through the air, above the heads of a few straggling infected as they turned to look at the interloper.

His mouth formed in a massive toothy smile his eyes stayed dead and emotionless as he watched the molotov burst and splash onto the group, the mix of diesel, gasoline, and gooified styrofoam working better than he could have ever hoped.

The shrieks and screams reaching his ears as music his AR was already off his shoulder and firing into the stunned infected directly in front of him as he tried to take out as many stragglers as possible, keeping the infected in a large group.

The room lit by nothing but the flaming infected as they flailed about Hank kept firing but started to sing, “Burn baby burn~ Burn baby burn~ Burn baby burn!” Rocking back and forth to the rhythm in his head as he unloaded in the numerous infected.

A large group rounding the corner as the rifle clicked empty the smile on Hank’s face widened as he turned and ran down the stairs before jumping over the tripwire to his own bomb as he reached the bottom. Rushing across the room to the nearest solid cover he hid behind it using the time to replace the dry mag with a full one.

The bolt locking home Hank switches his rifle to his left shoulder and leans out just enough to roughly aim down the side of the rifle and put a few rounds through the open doors and into the waiting bodies of the infected as they sprinted down the stairs wanting nothing more than to feel the flesh of the young man in between their teeth.

While the bullets ripping through their skin was some form of deterrent the slack string belonging to a lone pipebomb catching at their shins had another, more forceful, form of persuasion.

The slack tripwire letting more infected through the door the string finally ran out of length and was forced to give in the only place it could, the carter pin holding the pin back from the blast cap beneath it. Sliding out of the small hole with a small *ting* that was completely drowned out by the gunfire and rage filled screams of the infected the pin collided with the cap igniting the gunpowder below.

A deafening boom erupting next to the group of infected the shockwave killed the nearest few instantly as ball bearings screamed through the air searing through flesh and breaking bones as they bounced around inside the bodies of the unsuspecting infected.

On the other end of the room Hank opened his eyes and tried to focus them as his ears rang loudly, everything but his own breathing heavily muffled and distant sounding. Hitting the side of his head a few times trying to fix the ringing Hank quickly realized it wasn't going anywhere and walked out from behind his now riddled cover finding it hard to keep his balance.

Too... close. Looking to his right where the bomb went off and raising his rifle the young man realized just how powerful the blast had been. The wall the bomb had been mounter on being completely gone five feet out from where it had been mounted the infected were in even worse shape. Around twenty infected laid dead and all were either missing a limb or other parts of their bodies as shrapnel wounds dotted them all.

A few more infected running down the stairs at him Hank looked away from his handy work and raised his rifle, dropping the few infected with little difficulty. Another explosion erupting from down stairs, still muffled by his ringing ears he smiled before hearing many more footsteps above him once again.

Smile falling he aimed down the sights to the staircase as ten more infected rushed toward him. Pulling the trigger as fast as possible Hank turned to run as the wave kept coming at him, his bullets only taking a few out initially.

Running as fast as he could to the staircase trying to reload the rifle one last time the almost spent magazine slips out of his hand and clatters to the ground as he kept running, no choice but to abandon it.

Pulling the last magazine from his pouch and sliding it into the rifle he turned a corner and jumped over another trip wire at the entrance to the stairwell. Gliding down the stairs Hank turned just as the bomb was triggered sending an infected flying into the stairwell and smacking on the white painted cinder block wall leaving a blood splatter ten feet above the floor.

“Pft, what the fu- BANG.” The fourth and last tripwire bomb detonating below him Hank knew that infected had made it to the second story stair entrance and that he had to move fast if he didn’t want to get stuck.

“Satisfaction comes in the chain reaction.” He said loudly while running down the plastered sheetrock halls of the second floor before reaching the smoke and dust filled staircase the explosion had thrown up.

At the ready he looked over the metal handrail down below to the carnage below. Working down the stairs quickly, rifle pointed at the dust cloud that shrouded what was through the door his boot sinked into the tenderized flesh of the dead infected that littered the floor, the floor they rested on soaked in their blood.

Stepping closer to the door slowly a pained cry sounded from under foot causing the young man to jump back startled. Looking down at where his feet was he saw an infected partially buried under dead bodies missing its right arm as its entrails spilled from its stomach; looking to where his foot would have been and realizing that he had stepped on the exposed bone of its shredded left leg he looked back at its face.

Crazed pain filled eyes meeting much the same the infected reached its only hand left out to Hank as his face softened. Looking at the human like face of the fatally injured infected the instinctual part of his brain told him to feel upset at the sight. Looking into the eyes a little longer Hank’s own started to harden with the rest of his face, “I hope it hurts!” Stomping down on the exposed bone breaking it the infected screamed in agony as Hank turned and ran through the settling dust leaving it to die slowly.

On the other side of the dust cloud more infected grumbled and groaned in pain, stumbling and bumping into walls, either their eardrums burst and or their bodies pierced with shrapnel. A few more fresh infected sprinting up the staircase they quickly met their end by bullet as the others seemingly ignored the gunfire completely deaf from the explosions the small trickle of blood coming out of their ears a clear indicator.

Eyebrows angled down in anger Hank started systematically picking off every infected in the room from left to right not leaving any survivors. His personal need for vengeance fueling his hatred for the creatures in front of him he enjoyed the sight of their heads snapping back or popping immensely.

The last infected seeing feet walk toward it as it looked to the floor holding its head it rapidly snapped its gaze up only to see a blood and dust covered boy standing three feet away from it, a silver revolver pointed directly at its face.

Opening its mouth in a rage filled scream which it couldn’t hear it tried to lunge but promptly got smacked in the face with a .357, crumpling to the ground as blood poured from its nose Hank stood above it and holstered the revolver before spitting on the dead body, “Fuck you.”

Moving towards the stairs checking how many rounds were left in his last mag his still ringing ears failed to warn him of the lone infected running up the stairs until it was practically on top of him. Grabbing the young man and throwing him into the cinderblock wall the enraged infected wailed on Hank as he tried to cover up.

Slipping under a heavy punch of the screaming infected Hank delivered a left hook of his own to the ribs that did nothing to the ex human. Grabbing Hanks head and slamming it into the hard wall behind him the infected went for the throat but was stopped as Hanks right arm pushed into its own neck.

Left hand moving to the lipless infected’s head Hank drove him thumb into the right eye socket of the crazed man making it disconnect its hold on his forehead and try to step back. Pushing with all of his strength to his right Hank rammed the side of the infected’s head into the cinder block wall two times making it weaken before throwing it to the other side, the skull of the beaten rabies like man colliding off the hollow metal rails with a distinctive *ping.*

Stumbling back holding the back of his own head Hank leaned down and picked up his dropped rifle with one hand before putting two rounds in the infected’s upper chest while walking past. Reaching the ground floor, the smell of gasoline overriding the smell of death and decay the young man shook his head and regripped his rifle with both hands while making his way to the door.

The gasoline he had spilled in front of the door making the tile slick the blood on the underside of his boots started to de-coagulate leaving wispy red streaks where he stepped. Stopping next to the knocked over fuel can and picking it up he walked out of the building a few steps checking around him for more infected.

None close enough to cause discomfort Hank turns around and sets down the gas can before reaching into the satchel, one last molotov filling its compartment. Unscrewing the cap and pulling the rag out a few inches he takes the zippo back out and ignites the rag. Staring into the flame a few seconds he sighs and lobs the fire bomb underhand at the door.

The green glass shattering instantly on the concrete steps the fire quickly spread into the building, engulfing most of the lobby in orange flame. Watching the fire start Hank looks up to the top floor to see smoke already billowing out of the broken windows.

“Less highrises the better.” having figured out that the infected liked to congregate in multi leveled buildings or subterranean ones a long time ago due to walking face first into a few nests full of the flesh hungry monsters Hank had started tracking and figuring out just which of the buildings were the most full. His reasoning was: The less places to hide and feed the less infected in the streets and thus, maybe, eventually a day could go by when he would never see a rabid cannibal stalking around.

And Hank was determined to see that even if it meant systematically killing and burning Every. Last. Infected in a fifty mile radius.

Hearing more yells and shrieks down the road Hank turns his attention away from the burning building to see twenty more infected rushing out from alleys and buildings all while more started to come from further down the road.

Deciding to leave the gas can Hank starts backing up while taking shots at the group until the rifle clicked empty. Not more than five falling he starts backing up faster while slinging the rifle and taking out the revolver, about to shoot, something tells the lone man to check his six.

Looking over his shoulder Hank’s eyes widened upon seeing an even larger group coming from the other direction, frothing at the mouth. Swinging the cylinder out on the revolver and seeing five rounds he stared at them for a second before swinging it back shut.

No chance at taking on the swarm Hank decided to take the cowards way out and run, he hated running. Not the act itself, he quite liked the activity and exercise, he hated the meaning running away held. In his mind running away meant that he was too weak to take on a situation and he didn’t want the infected to think they were better than him.

This time though he saw no choice no matter how much he despised it and so he started to run, run from the swarm on his ankles. He lead them through building and over walls until they started to lose interest and realized that the work for the possible meal was not equal. Soon enough he was in a completely different part of the city and all alone. Catching his breath while walking down a rickety fire escape.

Thinking about the many close calls today had held Hank smiled and rubbed the back of his throbbing head, “Not a scratc-” The rusty step crumbling under his weight Hank fell forward, stumbling he tried to catch himself on the guardrail but failed, the only part catching on the guardrail being his face.

Falling down the rest of the three steps onto the hard gravel and asphalt Hank laid still for a second staring up at the sky. Trying to take in a deep sigh Hank quickly found himself choking on blood. Flipping to his knees Hank coughed the blood from his throat and took a deep breath. Bringing a hand to his face he traced the cut all the way from just in front of his left ear all the way past his mouth and to the right side of his chin.

Watching the blood pool grow larger Hank spat feeling his lips move more than they should, “Fuck off.”

<><><>

Tracing his scar back and forth Hank huffed and smiled as the pony across the room watched and listened, completely entranced at the foreign story.

“So yeah that’s how I got this scar.” Hank laughs one more time and drops his hand to his knee, “All the action that day and I tripped on a goddamn fire escape. Now I usually just say I fell one day on some stairs or something so I don’t have to give the backstory but you asked for it.”

“U-uhhhhhh, wow, I just um… wow.” Still processing the story that had been laid out in front of her Red was speechless; so much had just been revealed to her and yet she only had questions.

“I have a few questions, but I’m getting more wine first.” Clumsily getting off the couch and somewhat shakily making her way back into the kitchen Hank watched amused.

“You know I told you that the story might not be funny to you.” In a slightly raised voice the human points out as Red set another bottle on the table.

“It’s not that it’s not funny, it’s just that its funny in a bucked up morbid sort of way that I’ve never heard in my entire bucking life.”

“Well that’s my sense of humor for ya.”

Re entering the room with the uncorked bottle Red places it on the table and starts filling her glass. Stopping and then adding just a touch more she sets the bottle down and gets back onto the couch.

Observing the pony’s movements closely Hank leaned back in the chair and waited for the first round of questions. Setting her glass down after taking a generous drink Red sighed in contentment now ready to process some information.

“Alright so, about the whole infected thing-”

<><><> Exactly, and now I mean right on the dot, an hour later <><><>

Another click coming from the human’s gear as he checked over his stuff next to the door Red grumbled, “You can stay here for the night. There’s no reason to go out in the woods wherever you live in the middle of the night.”

Only giving her a look and smirking Hank was amused at the fact that she was worried for him given that at the beginning of the night she was clearly nervous and irritated at him, he guessed the good food and drink helped her warm up a little, he couldn’t blame her though drinks and food were two of his favorite things as well.

Stupid stuborn human. The small white pony thought from her seat on the couch thinking of a way to make him stay, “Just stay the night! C’mon!” Okay maybe the wine is me a little more forward than normal. Her alcohol eased mind considered toning down a little but quickly dismissed the notion.

“Well what do you want to get up to tonight miss drank a bottle of wine by myself?” The human stopped checking over his gear and slowly walked over to the pony smiling as he leaned over and placed both hands on the arms of the armrest of the couch Red was seated on.

Leaning back a little away from the human Redheart couldn’t not look into his eyes as she felt her heart rate start to climb. Not knowing if it was fear, attraction, the wine, or all three she tried to say something but the tightness in her chest wouldn’t let her.

“There is one thing I’m wonderin’ bout you though Red. You know what that might be?” Watching the blush spread on her face Hank wasn’t socially retarded enough to know what the signs the small pony’s body was giving him were.

“W-w-what?” In a nervous and wavering voice red choked out after a few seconds.

“Are you a chess or checkers girl?” The look Hank was giving the mare fading in a second he straightened back up and walked back to his previous spot next to the door, “Or hell maybe you like card games: War, Rummy, Spit, Solitaire? Even though Solitaire is more of a solo game made for when the power goes out and you ain’t got shit else to do.”

Not believing her ears Red sat shocked as the human prattled on about card and board games after just heavily flirting with her. What was even worse for the pony is that the flirting was working, and that had her more than a little confused about herself.

“But in all seriousness I doubt you’d want the questions and rumors spreading around town after all your neighbors see me leaving your house in the mornin’.” Locking the clasp on his pistol belt and suspenders he could just imagine how that would hurt Red’s reputation. He hated that even being acquaintances with him was a next to criminal offence worthy of shunning in this town, but even with it being messed up he understood why.

“Then again…” Leaning over and picking up his rifle from its propped up position next to the door Hank checked the chamber and slung it on his shoulder while looking back to the pony, “Maybe you wouldn’t mind the ramifications of a few rumors around town.”

Walking back toward the pony his gear clinking with each step he took he retakes his exact position before and looks at the pony up and down. A small hum coming out of his closed lips their eyes meet again, “Yeah, chess is real fun. Each player tries ta one up each other, a constant battle of wits and endurance until, finally, one or both of the players end completely exhausted. That could be innuendo though.”

Laughing he stands back up and walks back to the door looking back at the flustered state that Red was clearly in, her chest rising and falling heavily he had no idea how flustered she really was. The wine mixed with a complete lack in anything romantic for nearly two years had the poor mare overloaded.

“Well I need to get going Red but it was fun. I’m glad you liked the fish casserole, or whatever it classifies as.”

“...” Realizing that she was being spoken to Red’s tries to respond but all that comes out is a stuttering reply, “y-y-yeah.” Her brain much more focused on other things, like what was under the layers of armor and clothing of the human in front of her, the mare’s alcohol persuaded brain decides that being social wasn’t all too important at the moment.

Snorting at the state of the snow white Hank opens the door a tad peeking out before stepping outside entirely and closing the door behind him. Turning and walking down the desolate street the human shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips, as he thought about the night he had. He had enjoyed it, a lot as a matter of fact, really it was exactly what he needed to decompress a little. Leaving the drunken pony in such a state did make him feel a little bad though, when it came to teasing the little creatures he just couldn’t help himself it was too much fun.

“Oh well, I doubt she’ll remember what happened by morning. I sure hope she does that flirting was terrible, a little overbearing.” Talking to himself as he made it toward the exit to the town the man realized just how dark it was, the little sliver of moon not doing much to illuminate the land outside of the walls and out of range of the street lights. All Hank hoped for is that if he couldn’t see them they couldn’t see him.

Nearing the outerwall the young man noticed two guards stood very tensed at something in the dark outside of the brick walls. Subconsciously gripping his rifle tighter and raising it a little his heavy footfalls became almost silent as he crept towards the pair of nervous guards.

“Do you think it's the monster? I heard it just smiled and walked past the guards a shift before us.” Not looking away from the wall of darkness in front of him the earth pony guard asked his unicorn companion as she tried to look for what was making noise outside the wall as well.

“I don’t know, but I kinda hope it is.”

“What? Why?”

“Well it’s dangerous sure but it only seems to enjoy messing with us as long as we don’t mess with it.” Explaining to her fellow guard as much as herself both guards took a step back as whatever was out there ran from the left to the right.

“Yeah ain’t me out there.”

Both ponies whipping around simultaneously, hearts pounding, their wide eyes focused on the large frame of the human as he stood looking out into the darkness squinting, raising his rifle and tracking something they couldn’t see as it ran past again.

Deciding against using the rifle and waking the entire town unless he had to he drops it and re slings it over his shoulder. Looking down to the two ponies that stood on either side of him they still stood waiting for the armor clad man to make the first move.

“So what’s going on here?” Hank figured he already knew as much as the ponies in front of him did but he figured it’d be polite to ask and at least pretend he cared what they had to say.

“About ten minutes ago something just started making noise out there, running back and forth.”

Nodding at the information Hank smiles, “Well you’re lucky you caught me in a good mood. So what do you think it is?” Seeing this as an opportunity to test these guards and see how observant and intuitive they may or may not be he was going to throw some questions at the pair. His expectations were not optimistic whatsoever.

“Well whatever it is, I think it has four legs.” The male half of the pair pipes up as it runs past again, panting this time as well.

Nodding the young man smiles, “So why did you think it was me then? Does it look like I walk on all fours?”

“Look.” The pony shakes his head amazed and scared that he was talking to the creature in front of him, “I don’t even know what you are so I was just brainstorming.”

Shrugging the human turns his attention back to the unicorn meeting her already waiting eyes, “ What else can you pull from this situation?”

Not knowing why the Everfree monster was treating her and her friend like school fillies she decided to play along but didn’t know what else to say, “Not much really other than it seems like it doesn’t want to attack us.”

“That’s something at least. You two do realize whatever it out there-” The mysterious creature runs past again as if on cue, “can see you right? You’re both right under a street light.”

The way Hank had put it along with the realization of what he had said sinking in both ponies started to get a little more nervous, their stomachs becoming uneasy.

“You are right though, if it was confident enough it would’ve just rushed and killed you both. So it’s probably not a Shuck, but at the same time it could be trying to lure you out into the dark where you’re effectively blind and make a real easy job outta you both.”

Listening to what the man had to say they both started to slowly inch closer to him without even knowing, feeling strangely safer with him than what could be in the dark. Neither of the two ponies had ever even considered wanting to encounter Hank but now they were glad he was here with them although neither would admit that to anyone.

“And it could just be a dog having some fun running around. Do either of you have a light you can shine out there?”

“I have a spell that I can use.” Lighting her horn, about to project the light out the human holds out a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture.

“Hold up. I’m glad you didn't immediately try to see what it was earlier because, who knows, the second it knows its been spotted it could turn hostile.”

A smile still on his face the bayonet snaps into place with practiced ease onto its lug while the man picks the rifle back up putting it at low ready. The two ponies looking at him he looks back at them with a ‘what are you waiting for’ look, “Come on draw those swords, on my mark you will follow my every move and ignite that light. We’re going to sweep far right until you’re pressed against the bricks to make sure nothing is waiting for us on our flank got it.”

Pointing at the unicorn she nods, the sword in her mouth blocking her speech. Looking to the earth pony next, his sword in his mouth as well Hank gestures for him to come closer which the pony immediately obeys, “And you are going to watch or rear, she’s going to be looking ahead along with me so watch and listen got it.”

Nodding once Hank smiles, “Okay light it up.”

Heart racing the unicorn lights her horn casting the path in front of them in a pale yellow light. Nothing but dirt and grass ahead of them the human gives the command to move right which they immediately follow revealing nothing but more empty space to their left.

Both ponies already breathing heavy, this being the closest thing to an actual threat they had ever encountered they both start breathing heavier and loudly through their noses as Hank moves them back to the middle and then starts to push out.

“Calmly now, nerves get you killed.”

Trying to calm themselves both ponies couldn’t as they rounded the corner to reveal a lone brown dog lying happily in the grass a red ball lying in between its front legs.

“Well see there ya go. Come on now let's go buddy.” Kneeling down and waving at the dog it happily picks up its ball and quickly walks toward the human getting pet and patted as it got near, “Go on home now, go-on git.”

Tail wagging rapidly back and forth from the under ear scratches the brown dog walks past the trio and back into town.

“Stupid ass dog.” Laughing the two ponies look at each other and sheath their swords before laughing a little themselves.

“Not that bad eh?” Hank asks the two as he slowly starts to walk up the hill.

“No it wasn’t uh thank you.”

“Yeah thanks.”

“Ain’t nothin’.” Hank waves the two off, “Now could you shine that light of yours up that hill and crank it up.”

Without a word the unicorn mare turned her head and supplied more magic into the advanced light spell with a little strain and focused it up the hill. The relaxed atmosphere dropping immediately the two ponies once again got closer and positioned themselves behind the human as two large eyes shined back at them from near the top of the hill.

“This could be interestin’.” The human says switching his rifle from single to burst, “Say do pony eyes shine like that?” Hank knew it wasn’t a pony but some part of him wanted it to be.

“No, not that much. Is it a Shuck?” Peeking out from behind his leg the unicorn mare asks keeping her beam directly on the floating pair of orbs.

“No, Shucks have small beady eyes.” the pitch blackness of the nearly new moon making it impossible for pony or human to make out a silhouette Hank hums, “Turn that light off and back on real fast.”

Doing as the man said the two eyes disappeared and reappeared as the light once again reached them.

Trying his best to figure out what this thing was watching them the two ponies tried their hardest not to have a collective heart attack as the two floating eyes blinked almost making the pair piss themselves.

Something feeling familiar about the shape of the eyes and how they blinked a smile slowly found its place on Hank’s face, “Lily?”

The two eyes immediately getting taller before closing in on the three the two ponies got behind the human as much as possible as a manticore slowly walked into the light enough to see what it was.

“H-holy shit.” Upon seeing the massive lioness walking toward them the two guards started to tremble in fear at the sight of something so terrifying.

Hank however walked away from the duo with his weapon lowered. Feeling naked without their human cover the two pressed together and watched as the two met in the middle; the human holding his left hand out as the manticore let out a meow and rubbed herself into his hand.

“Somebody got worried about me didn’t they?” Scratching on the underside of her massive jaw Lilith meows in confirmation.

Having no idea how to unpack the scene in front of them the two stood still not believing their eyes. All through school and childhood stories about manticores and their sheer power were told as myth for entertainment between friends or from parents to their children to make sure their kids minded the forest and didn’t wander too deep.

It was no wonder why just seeing one of the most ferocious and top predators to ever roam the lands of equis made the minds of the two guards nearly melt; let alone watching as another creature surrounded in much mystery and scary stories acting as if it were his pet.

“Well let's go on home I’m sure the zebra is worried.” Hopping onto his lioness companion’s back Hank pats her firmly on top of Lily’s shoulders. Turning and walking back up the hill Hank turns his head and looks back to the duo as the unicorns light tracked him, “Have a safe night you two, watch for anything out of the ordinary now.” Winking to the ponies the lone human laughs and turns back around disappearing into the night.

Out of range of the beam and the young unicorn running out of magic she stops using the spell immediately not being able to see anything the only thing they could experience was the sound of heavy footsteps going further down the trail and their own breathing.

“What in the buck are we supposed to write down in our after shift reports?”

“I-I-I have no idea. Let’s just talk to Captain Clover he’s been around that thing too.”

Returning back to their spot at the entrance to the town, they both stayed at the edge of the street light not wanting to be so easily seen. Little did they know a human on top of the hill was looking back down at them with a small smirk, “So they can learn. Go figure.”

Hello once again idiots that keep waiting for this garbage. So here it is a completely sub par, by even my standards, chapter. I do hope you can squeeze something positive out of this.

Anyway I've been busy with more important things in my real life and it's taking a lot of my time so the next chapter could come out in... I dunno a long time most likely. Plus to be honest with you after this chapter I have no idea what in the fuck to do with this story, since the beginning I had no clear path or story arc that I was following and I still don't.

I think I'm going to start a new arc with a time jump of a few months so I can just get things rolling again but I don't know how to connect the main scenes I've thought of together and in an entertaining way so, eh I'm fucked I guess.

I have no idea what to do and where to go but I at least hope you like this one so yeah. Tell me how big of a retard I am down below and do whatever you guys do. See you around.