Gasping for breath and bleeding from a dozen shallow wounds, a white unicorn raced down the corridor. The unicorn mare was using the synthetic muscles of the Type 1 Engineering Suit she wore to run while standing upright, carrying a blood-soaked bundle of once-soft fabric and yellow feathers in her arms, her magic too weak from exhaustion.

The weight of the bundle in her arms was negligible; barely noticeable, in fact. That didn’t change the fact that Vinyl Scratch, age twenty-four, felt like she was carrying all of Equus in her arms right then.

Still, she ran. She could feel her beloved’s life slipping slowly away from her grasp, could see it in the twist of RIG hemorrhaging bars of light like the pegasus was hemorrhaging blood. She couldn’t see her own bars, and couldn’t care less. All that mattered to her was getting Fluttershy to safety.

But even the most stalwart champion will fall eventually, and Vinyl was nothing but a repairmare, no champion of light and goodness. Her flagging breath tore from her lungs like a flurry of knives, and she felt herself begin to tilt.

With an effort of will, she corrected the issue, and slowed. The last several minutes of running were just a blur of corridors, hallways, and closed doors. Her lungs burned, and she gave the fold command to her helmet, letting it slide from her head and into the suit.

Shaking the pain from her head and cottony mouth, she looked for something to set her bundle down on. Locating one of the ubiquitous maintenance supply crates, Vinyl gently set her burden down, running a mechanical hand down Fluttershy’s cheek.

The butter-yellow pegasus, drenched in sweat and blood, looked up at Vinyl with tired eyes. She leaned into the unicorn’s touch, still smiling, even through the pain. Vinyl couldn’t recognize the horrifying visage she saw reflected back at her in ‘Shy’s eyes, but she also didn’t care.

“I-” Vinyl gulped, trying to bring moisture to her dry throat. “I’m s- so sorry, ‘Shy.”

Fluttershy just kept smiling. “It’s alright, angel. It’s alright.” The pegasus patted Vinyl’s shoulder reassuringly.

The two sat in silence, the pale unicorn slowly starting to realize just how injured she really was, her chest in pain from where a slasher had impaled her through the chest. Likely, the wound was filling her lung with fluid, and she’d likely choke to death from it.

That thought was far from her mind, though, Fluttershy’s calm acceptance keeping Vinyl rooted.

“H- hey ‘Shy?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Fluttershy just gave a half-hearted giggle, her eyes drooping tiredly. “I love you, too.”

Vinyl looked at the last weapon she held, her pulse rifles having burnt out nearly half an hour ago.

It was her plasma cutter. The two shades of blue used to make an enamel flame decal in place of the boring yellow warning sections and gleaming white on the rest of the tool were the result of Fluttershy wanting to get her something for their anniversary three years previous.

The pegasus had wanted to get her something she’d be able to use, and the party-inclined engineer smiled happily at the thought. She was a bit surprised to find she was slumped against the wall a mere meter from where Fluttershy lay.

Not a single light glowed on the torn body.

Vinyl looked over the plasma cutter, ejecting the cartridge and checking the charge. Nine shots left.

The white mare shook the blood-snarled blue mane from her face, and stood shakily as a not-so-distant roar shook her. Her grasp shook, her nerves shot from the damage she’d sustained and the last vestiges of grief she allowed herself.

A wave of necrotic flesh, sprouting cutting blades and strangling tendrils, swept down the corridor, and Vinyl steeled herself one more time.

Eight more shots rang out, punching into and through the necromorphs at the head of the line. Swinging with the weapon, Vinyl held them off a moment more, intent on defending her beloved for as long as she could.

A blade swept around her guard, slashing a vital tendon and leaving one of her legs unresponsive. Her suit locked up, giving her support, though, and she kept swinging. Another stab slipped by, from some sort of projectile coming off a foal on a wall.

Slipping in her own spilled blood, she went down on her dead knee, watching as the horde pulled back. Panting, she looked around, searching for a reason and dreading what it might be. As her gaze swept behind her, she saw a bat-winged torso skitter away into the crowd, and began to cry.

With a shaking hoof, she closed her eyes. A harsh, agonized screech accompanied her shot, and the monsters swept over her a scarce instant later.

As the horde left, searching for more live and dead bodies, they left behind just three things:

A strip of coppery metal.

A slightly damaged plasma cutter, with butane-blue flames on the guides and a white casing.

And a spiral of bone, the base cracked and shattered, coated in blood and ichor.

Author's Notes:

This is what happens.

This is what happens as night falls and the darkness overwhelms even the brightest sparks of hope.

What have you to say now?
No need for votes on this chapter.