I trotted along through the thick undergrowth of the Everfree forest. The wet grass and moss squelched underneath my boots from the recent rainfall. It had been a stale day and was rather muggy with the humidity the way it was. The trees surrounded me like a jail cell walls and felt as if they were closing in on me. I pulled out the map from my saddle and took another look at it.

I was close. I was certain of it. If only the old withered map was more depictive then simply pointing out that the treasure, marked by a big black X, was somewhere in the Everfree in a more open area close to a gravestone.

I placed the map back in my saddle after having another long look at it then continued to slush through the forest. I could just take to the air but the treetops severely hindered the sight of the inner forest.

As I continued on I wondered if maybe perhaps the map was just an old joke. Something conjured up by a father to play a game of treasure hunt with his young son. I quickly disregarded the thought in knowledge that it had to be real treasure, especially for the price the old stallion at the general store sold the map for.

I wiped the sweat from the back of my neck which had accumulated and now dampened my fur. I hated hot summer days after a rainfall. The rainy weather was cold and damp but now everything had heated up and was muggy and miserable.

I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead then proceeded on through the forest. I knew that this treasure was worth it. Something in my gut just told me it would be the greatest treasure that I would ever find. As I continued on I felt as if some-pony was watching me. I quickly spun around but no one was there, just those menacing trees. They almost looked like they had horrid faces that watched me as I trotted along. I gulped in mild fear then continued on.

As the muggy humidity started to get to me I took out my canteen from the saddle strung across my side. I unscrewed the top and took a large sip. 'Ugh' I groaned. The water was rather warm and distasteful but did help to keep me hydrated somewhat. I screwed the cap back on then placed it back in my saddle and took another look around.

I began to wonder exactly where I was. I didn't have a map of the area and this treasure map was no help. I felt like I had been walking in circles all day. I looked around and it felt like my world began to spin. Everything simply spun in a blur of circles and I began to back pedal but then tripped over my own hooves and fell into a thick thistle bush. "Oww!" I yelped.

I pulled a few thistle needles out of the back of my neck as I stood up and turned around. A large patch of thistle brush stood in front of me and I groaned. I hated thistles. I slipped out my machete and held it in one hoof as I began to hack my way through the brush.

After a minute or so of heavy bushwhacking I came into a rather large clearing. It was surrounded by a thick wall of thistle and was almost barren, save for a small pile of rubble near a gravestone. The treetops blocked almost all of the sunlight from entering the opening, save for a few beams that managed to illuminate the area somewhat.

Inside my mind I was cheering, screaming in absolute success but on the outside I kept myself quiet and professional. Who knew what horrors might lurk about nearby.

I quickly paced over to the gravestone then pulled out my small handy shovel. I slipped off my saddle which contained just about everything I had brought with me. The only thing that wasn’t in the saddle was my Colt SAA .45LC. It had a bright mirror finish look to it and had a 5 ½ inch barrel on it, ideal for shooting rather than concealment or looks. The handle was ivory, a nice touch to it. I would’ve much rather had a wood handle but in the end just figured I’d leave it for the time being.

The revolver rested in a hip holster on my right side in an original holstering rather than a reverse holster generally used on chest holsters when carrying more than one gun. I had the holster and gun covered by the side of my jacket but kept it easily accessible in case I ever needed to use it.

Firearms were a rather common thing though usually discouraged in some places due to their deadly nature. Ideally a unicorn could handle a weapon the easiest, due to their magic, but manufactures have created battle saddles that harness the weapon for a pony and in turn the pony simply has to utilize the mouth piece that will trigger the firearm, but in most cases it is rather encumber some. However some ponies have managed to operate firearms without the use of magic or battle saddles and can simply use them with their hooves. I learned the latter technique from an old mare when I was younger.

I held the shovel in my front hooves and began to dig near the grave. The blade of the shovel pierced the soft squishy ground and I was easily able to start digging. I would toss the loose dirt over my left shoulder and into a pile. My movements were fluid and precise each and every time.

Suddenly I heard the cocking of a revolver and spun around to find myself looking down the barrel of a Smith and Wesson Model 10, probably a .38 caliber. I gulped as I realized who was holding it: Black Mane.

He was a unicorn and stood eye level with me. His fur was jet black and his mane was finely combed with an oily black look that matched his fur. His eyes were an icy blue hue that made me shiver as I looked into them. His body frame was mediocre and he was less than intimidating if one wasn’t to know who he was or didn’t look into his eyes.

His face was spread with a devilish smile. I went to reach for my own revolver but he laughed. “Ah-ah-ahh. I wouldn’t do that.” He told me and I lowered my hoof from my side then placed it back on the wet ground. I didn’t feel the wetness thanks to my boots but I could tell by the squishing sound that the ground made when I set my hoof on it.

“What do you want?” I hissed and he laughed then pointed to where I had been digging. He probably knew what I was doing here and followed me, letting me lead him to the treasure. “No way, it’s mine. I earned it!” I scowled but he simply sighed then levitated over a shovel with his magic.

“There are two types of ponies in Equestria. Those with guns, and those who dig. You dig” he ordered me. I refused to take hold of the shovel. He cocked back the hammer manually on his revolver despite it being double action. I still refused.

He pulled back the trigger and the gunshot sounded like a loud SNAP. Wet dirt was kicked up in front of my hooves and dirtied my face and chest. He cocked back the hammer again to seem menacing, which he was. My heart pounded in my chest and I finally took hold of the shovel.

I contemplated trying to beat him to death with the shovel but he must’ve read my mind. “Oh and remember, I am the one with the gun. If you try anything then I’ll shoot you dead… even if you did manage to kill me then my friends here would blast you into a pulp.” he informed me and that’s when I noticed the other stallions behind him. There were eight of them. Most carried lever action rifles but two differed from the others.

One was dressed in a rather fine attire and holstered twin Schofield revolvers. He was a pegasus with light blonde fur and a matching mane. His eyes were brown but heartwarming, if he wasn’t part of this gang that now held me up.

The other was a zebra. He had a long barreled Remington Rolling Block rifle with a magnifying scope that spanned down the top of the entire barrel.

I stepped back and began to dig in another spot in hopes that if I didn’t find the treasure then perhaps they’d leave. Black Mane read my bluff however and shook his head as he grunted. “I don’t think so. I’m not as stupid as you think.” He scoffed and I gulped as I returned to my old digging spot then continued to dig.

I must’ve been dug for an hour before the shovel finally hit something metal. The shovel thunked against what I could only presume to be the top of a metal chest. Black Mane motioned with his revolver for me to retrieve whatever the object was. I knelt down and quickly shuffled away the loose dirt from around the chest then pulled it out.

The chest was fairly heavy and made me grunt in effort as I pulled it out. I placed in on the ground by my side as I took a deep breath of exhaustion and wiped my sweaty forehead. Dirt and grit smeared across my face and sweat stung my vision slightly.

“Well… let’s have it!” Mane demanded. I kicked the chest and it slid over to his hooves. He looked at the metal chest which had a lock on it. He quickly blasted off the lock with his revolver then opened the chest. I only caught a glance of what was inside but it looked like gold relics and jewelry.

He nodded to himself then closed the chest again. “Well boys, we scored the jackpot this time.” He told the others who snickered to themselves and gave each other nods. Black Mane turned back to me and sighed.

“And as for you missy… sorry to say this but you can’t be living all that much after what just happened. But look on the bright side, at least you dug your own grave.” He laughed then squeezed the trigger on the revolver that he held in his hoof.

What I assumed to be a 38. caliber round punched through my gut and blew out an exit wound bigger than the entry. I gasped and a little bit of blood spat up. It tasted horrid, like a brass substance.

I fell back from the force and pain that now struck my body and collapsed into the hole I had dug. The sound laughter soon faded as they left me for dead. I looked up into the treetops. Light seemed to somehow shine down on me in my dying moments and I let my eyes slowly shut, a last beam of light flickering in my vision. I heard soft hoof steps quickly pace up to me and a heavenly voice started speaking but I couldn’t make out the words. This… this must be my angel coming to fly me away to heaven.

Author's Notes:

Before anyone says anything, the title is a pun on words (Tail, as in their tail, rather then an actual tale). I'm going to enjoy this story. Leave a comment on what you think of the story so far