Fallout Eqestria: Starsong, Chapter 7

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    Warning! This series contains strong language, strong sexual themes and extreme gore, it is not for filly's or colt's eyes!  It also may contain spoilers to Fallout: Eqestria! If you are are young or uncomfortable with these things turn back FOREVER (or until you are 18)

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    Chapter 7: Festering 

    "Ask yourself this, how well do you really know yourself?" 

    Everything was black, not the cold black of night, but the blackness of nothingness.

    Reck Lass threw her had to the side as she head a springing sound, followed by a small giggle. She suddenly spotted the pink mare, her coat and hair fluffy, hot pink mane sticking out in the abyss.

    "Oh, don't be scared silly willy!" She called out a moment later, still smiling as she fixed Reck Lass with her blue eyes. "But I'm sorry that I have to be really weally quick! I have something super duper UPER duper important that I need to tell you!"

    Reck Lass tried to open her mouth, and she felt her eyes go wide as nothing came out.

    "Okie Dokie Lokie! I need to tell that you CANNOT..."

    ** ** **

    The world slowly faded back into focus, Reck Lass rubbing the sleep from her green eyes as her head slowly rose from the silver terminal.

    The mare nearly yawned, but quickly clamped her hoof over her mouth as the sudden realization of were she was hit the mare.

    She was still in a Stable-Tec crate surrounded by slavers.

    Reck Lass slowly lowered her hoof, letting it rest on the small yellow and grey device in front of her. She let her eyes trace over the sealed door to the crate, looking for any traces of sunlight creeping through, but she saw only the absolute blackness of the crate.

    Maybe it was still night, or early morning, she thought as she slowly loaded 3 PipBucks into her reliable satchel, nearly bursting it, and replacing the bottle of Bateye in her bag after she took one of the small glowing capsules.

    The mare bit her lower lip in thought as she stared at the steel door to the crate, looming like a gate to hell. From what she had seen, there were at least 15 slavers with Body Count, and those odds did not favor Reck Lass.

    Reck Lass shoved her hoof into the leather satchel on her side, slowly shifting through the ammo, chems and PipBucks to pull out the small ebony chip, it's blue aura faintly illuminating the dark crate.

    The mare gave the door a steely gaze, slowly crawling forward, forcing herself to not reach forward as the chip slowly floated from her hoof and slid into the steel door.

    Reck Lass gritted her teeth and readied Shine, hoping for an empty camp, but expecting a collection of armed slavers. The door slowly slid open with a soft, barely audible hiss, the dark chip slowly finding it's way back into the mare's old leather satchel.

    The dark camp was only lit by the embers of an almost dead campfire, barely illuminating the armored forms sprawled about the camp. Several of the slavers, such as the muscle-bound unicorn with a barb wire wrapped bat sitting next to her at the old entrance of the factory, simply laid on the hard wasteland ground, while other slept on dirty, yellow pieces of aged cardboard.

    The mare did not see the unconscious form of Skull anywhere in the slaver's crude camp.

    Reck Lass felt herself let out a quiet gasp as her eyes ran over a form in a blue jumpsuit, bearing a PipBuck exactly like those in Reck Lass's satchel, on one hoof and a pile of leather and metal armor next to her sleek, black sleeping bag.

    Body Count.

    The mare tossed and turned in her sleep, muttering something under her breath, subconsciously reaching for the serrated knife and the gleaming, scoped SMG next to the haphazard pile of armor.

    Reck Lass felt herself trembling slightly, Shine drooping in her mouth. This was her, 5,000 bottlecaps laying on a black bedroll. 5,000 caps sitting on a bedroll surrounded by 10 armed slavers, the mare quickly corrected herself.

    Wait, 10?

    The mare slightly shook her head, slowly taking a hoofstep out of the old crate. She had probably just miscounted before, she thought, there were probably only 10 slavers, not 15.

    Reck Lass felt her hooves twitching slightly, her eyes not leaving Body Count, though they occasionally deviated to the bags of gear next to the slavers. Couldn't she just...slit her throat or something? End this here? Without thinking she reached into a ratty bag of a slaver next to her, slowly pulling out a pair of spiked ponyshoes, bloody and rusted. The mare started to creep towards Body Count, though she quickly stopped herself, nervously hunching her shoulders.

    She may be known for her lack of caution, she thought, but even she could see that this was a dumb plan. There was no way she could kill Body Count with silently, she was an adventurer and a courier, not an assassin.

    The mare winced as a slaver nearly rolled onto her hoof, forcing her to take a step back and look up, her eyes locking on the wooden crates, wrapped in bard wire.

    In first battered crate, two stallions lay, their coats covered in wounds and blood, still trembling in their sleep, making the collars of worn metal around their necks shake like a cold skeleton. The second crate contained a middle-aged mare,her coat in better condition than the stallions though her obviously once long mane was now ragged and ripped. She pressed her head against the crate's torn side, her chest rising and falling with the slowness of sleep. The third crate was empty, no filly inside.

    Reck Lass felt herself go slightly numb, feeling a profound pang of pain at two terrible realizations. She couldn't save the slaves or else the 42 know somepony was after them; and Skull along with the filly, were both gone. The red maned earth pony, started to weave around the slavers, slowly making her way towards the rotted exit.

    She may not be able to save the slaves, but she couldn't let Skull...abuse that filly. She had to do something.

    Reck Lass stared at her now rusty spike covered hooves, hardly drawing breath as she stepped in the small gaps between the armored raiders, lightly gasping each time one gave a diseased cough, or rolled onto her side with the clank of armor and bandoleers.

    The mare felt herself give a deep sigh of relief as her hoof planted itself near the rusted door to the Wasteland, her vision darting to the strong mare, which she could now tell had a dusty red coat and a mane, with an oddly painted face of what appeared to be a dragon, coiled up menacingly.

    A tribal.” Reck Lass quietly whispered to herself as she slowly crept towards the rusted door, though she felt her eyes occasionally leaving the slaving tribal and darting to the baseball bat next to her, the barbs covered in dried gore and the end...recently wettened.

    Reck Lass nearly screamed as Barbs slowly groaned, stretching out her muscled legs as she began to slowly rub her eyes with her worn and cut-up hooves.

    Thorn Bush? Is 'dat you?” The tribal mumbled in her thick accent, slowly laying her head back on the ground. “My shift is over. Et is yur turn tu guard. An' did you polish yur hooves or something? Et makes you shoes look even shittier!”

    Reck Lass felt her mouth go agape, slightly backpedaling.

    Uh, Y-yeah. I was just...g-going out.” The adventurous mare lied, slightly rushing as she neared the rusted door.

    Reck Lass let out a deep sigh of relief as she felt the stale Wasteland air sink into her light brown coat. She took another capsule of Bateye from her satchel, letting the small blue capsule slide down her throat as her vision cleared and the world around her brightened.

    The night was quiet, it had been no more than 2 hours since Reck Lass had hidden from the slavers, and the stars still showered  their silver light onto the war-torn land. The mare felt her self take a hoofstep the way she had came, though she quickly scolded herself, forcing herself to turn around.

    She couldn't just leave, she had to find Skull and the filly. She nervously raised her shoulders, momentarily lowering her gaze to the dusty ground.

    She needed to do something moral in her life after all.

    Reck Lass slowly swept her eyes over the ground, looking for any signs of disturbance. She let out a deep sigh, slightly wincing. The ground was hard as stone and cracked from 200 years of radiation and torn from war, how was she going to see any tracks?

    The mare took a step forward, hope slowly fleeting, but she suddenly felt her body momentarily go numb, and seemingly pushing her along her current path. Reck Lass's hoof stamped on the ground without her command, followed by a sudden twitch of her neck.

    Reck Lass almost jumped for cover, given the history of her "twitches", but something stopped the mare.

    Each time she had a twitch...something happened. Like something falling, or a door opening. Maybe this new twitch meant "your going the right way"?

    The young mare shook her red mane, quickly trotting forward, a determined expression plastered on her face. She didn't have time to think, somepony may need her, fast.

    Despite her situation, a smile touched Reck Lass's lips as she rounded one of the crumpling corners of the factory, making the cracked road visible. She was saving fillies and fighting slavers with ancient artifacts in her satchel, it sounded like something from one of her books!

    Even though the only reason you're fighting them is for your own monetary gain, her mind sneered, though Reck Lass quickly pushed that voice deep down into her thoughts.

    Reck Lass nearly slid to a stop, her Bateye enhanced vision picking up three figures on the side of the factory, two obviously mares and the other an orange coated filly with a crimson mane cowering on the ground, her slave collar removed, and quietly whimpering. The first mare was an earth pony with a white coat and black mane, only covering one side of her dirty head, along with crude warpaint of a black skull across her diseased features. She stood over the filly in an aggressive posture, causing the bandoleers and the sawed off shotgun on them dangling from her leather armor to brush the filly below her, hoof pushing on her trembling flank and a rusted combat knife hanging from her rotting teeth.

    "Please! Just stop it...please stop..." The filly wailed, tears streaming from her face and her voice trembling.

    This must be Skull, Reck Lass thought as she watched the horrible scene.

    The piss yellow mare next to the pedophile nervously scanned the wasteland around her with her olive eyes from under her ratty brown hood, checking the aged assault rifle battle-saddle she wore every few moments.

    "It's your fuckin' fault this happened to muh! Now pussy up, ya' little whore, or Ah'll slit your Lunadamn throat!" Skull sneered at the filly, referencing the dark blood smeared in between her back legs, and moving her hoof down from the filly's flank to run in between her legs.

    The orange filly let out a squeal, attempting to scurry away from the raider, though she quickly stopped as a knife was pressed against her young throat, causing a thin droplet of bright red blood to slowly run down the filly, eventually falling into the cracked wasteland ground.

    The yellow slaver fixed Skull with an angry glare as the filly squeaked, taking several footsteps towards the pedophile, her eyes clouded with worry.

    "Hurry the hell up! We don't have all night, we need to get to Sunnyville and loot the shit from that school. The girls need our help killing the fuckheads there, so just make her lick you or something and lets get the fuck out of here before Body wakes up!" The slaver affirmed, nervously looking in Reck Lass's direction, making the red maned mare press against the grey crumbling factory wall, peaking her head out, Shine slightly gleaming in the pale moonlight.

    Skull slowly backed up up from the filly, affixing the slaver next to her with a cold glare.

    "Ah got fucked Barb's bat because of this lil' cunt. If ah wanna' take muh time breaking the slut, Im'a take muh time breaking the slut! So shut the fuck up, Dust Cloud. Dumb name." Skull countered, slowly walking back towards the trembling figure on the ground, now beginning to softly sob. "But if ya' insist, Ah'll make it quick. Ass up, now ya' little shit! Last chance before or ah'll fuck yuh with muh knife, Ah've done it before!"

    Reck Lass felt her muscles tensing up Shine slowly steadying as she lined it up with Skull. Her she slowly began to pull the trigger, preparing to decapitate the slaver.

    She pulled the trigger.

    The Bateye wore off at the same moment, causing Reck Lass to squint in pain as the purple bolt of energy soared out in front of her, drawing a scream of pain from the darkness as it slammed into the slaver.

    "What the fucking shit is that!?" Dust Cloud suddenly yelled, taking a step back, frantically aiming her assault rifle, her dirty blonde mane whipping out of the front of her hood.

    Reck Lass crouched down, propelling herself off the cracked brown ground towards the filly, attempting to cling to the shadows.

    Suddenly the loud bang of a shotgun cracked through the formally quiet air, a cloud of cement bursting from the aged wall behind Reck Lass's head, sending the adventurous mare tumbling forward as the shot barely missed her.

    Note to self, do not try to charge and sneak at the same time, Reck Lass thought to herself as she quickly rose from the hard ground.

    "Celestiadamnit Skull! Don't shoot, you'll wake the whole fucking camp up!" Dust Cloud scolded, slowly stepping back, pulling something from the folds of her tattered tan poncho. "Get to Sunnyville, tell them Body knows and we need to get the fuck out!"

    Reck Lass's eyes widened, they thought she was part of their gang. She was almost offended.

    As the yellow slaver's head whipped forward, Reck Lass felt an odd sensation run through her body, followed by the uncontrolled twitching of her tail. The adventurous mare shoved down her momentary surprise, tensing up and preparing to roll to the side.

    "I'm trusting you, so please don't fuck up." Reck Lass whispered to herself as she threw her young body to the side in a roll, grunting as her combat armor painfully pressed against her body.

    The throwing hatchet bounced off the cement wall were Reck Lass had been standing, after showering the area in grey flecks that shone like small stars in the moonlight, it slid across the hard ground with the sound of a knife being sharpened and landed at Reck Lass's spiked hooves.

    "How the..." The slaver began, her voice rank with confusion..and even a hint of fear.

    Dust Cloud's eye's widened, the agape slaver mare aiming her aged assault rifle with obvious desperation.

    Reck Lass dropped Shine and desperately sprinted forward as a stream of bullets began to soar by her red maned head, the tarnished hatchet clenched firmly in her teeth. With a twist of her head, Reck Lass sent the throwing hatchet flying through stale air, twirling and embedding itself into Dust Cloud's forehoof with a spray of crimson blood, painting the ground in front of her red and drawing a shriek from the yellow slaver.

    Reck Lass scrambled for Shine, not seeing the silver pistol in the darkness, but she felt her eyes darting to Skull, who was dragging the slave filly behind her, painfully wedging her her in between the cracked road and the white coated slaver, who was now replacing her sawed off shotgun on her chest. She turned her eyes back to Dust Cloud, who was beginning to straighten up, tearing the hatchet from her leg with a gruesome flesh ripping sound and river of blood spilling onto the cracked, dusty ground.

    Without Shine, Reck Lass charged forward, squinting her eyes in an effort to repel dust...and partially because of fear. Dust Cloud gave up on removing the hatchet embedded in her leg, forcing her self to aim her aged assault rifle, though it swayed as if she was drunk because of her obvious mind numbing pain. Reck Lass almost started screaming as she skid to a stop in front of the slaver, kicking up a dark cloud of dust. The young mare suddenly turned around, bucking with all the strength she could muster, right into the bloody hatchet.

    Dust Cloud wailed as the hatchet was punched through her leg, soon followed by the rusted spiked pony shoes, tearing through her leg and being torn back out almost immediately, sending bone fragments flying through the air. She collapsed to the side, a hoof sized hole, ragged and torn, furiously pumping blood onto the ground underneath the mare, slowly creating a small, red, shimmering pool.

    Reck Lass quickly scooped up the bloody hatchet from the ground, almost retching as the coppery taste spread throughout her mouth. The adventurous mare pressed the aged hatchet to slaver's throat, somewhat strangling her pained wailing. The slaver's olive eyes widened with fear, gaze locked on the bloody hatchet.

    "Aw fuck, I don't wanna die! I'm so fucking sorry, it was all Empty Syringe's idea! I'll get broken again, I'll let the entire crew break at once, shit, I'll fucking pay you! Don't let me die!" Dust Cloud wailed, begin to pathetically sob, fearfully closing her eyes.

    Reck Lass almost began to tremble with fear as she saw the orange glow of fires leaking from the old factory, soon followed by several concerned female voices. The young mare looked back to the sobbing slaver in front of her, pressing hatchet further down on her throat, only increasing her pained wailing.

    "Shut up! Shut the fucking hell up! I'm not part of your stupid gang, just tell me where you were taking the slave!" Reck Lass yelled over the wailing, her head nervously darting towards the factory few moments, the noise and lights steadily increasing, filling the air.

    "Sunnyville! Motherfucking Sunnyville! South, down the road, some old town, full of raiders now. Some of them are Kill Streak's deserters, but lotta' gangless raiders there too!" Dust Cloud spewed, clearly on the edge on consciousness as she rapidly lost blood, the side of her crude armor now completely soaked with red.

    Reck Lass slowly lifted the hatchet, taking a few cautious steps back. She locked eyes with the wounded raider for a moment, feeling an unprovoked emotion, one she rarely felt. Anger. The slaver was about to let a filly be raped, and just stood there complaining about time, but the scary thing to Reck Lass was, this is not what sparked her anger. She just felt hatred, undiluted hatred for the wounded mare, and wanted to bury the bloody hatchet deep into her skull. She felt her breathing coming in short gaps, and the gore coated hatchet become clenched tighter in her teeth. She hardly noticed as, out of the corner of her vision, her bright red mane seem to become...duller. Deader.

    As quickly as the feeling had came, the hatred left. Reck Lass felt herself become relatively relaxed again, and her hair slowly shifted back to it's normal, vibrant shade of red.

    "Th-thank you." Reck Lass simply said as she tucked the bloody hatchet into her now full satchel, slowly backing up towards the cracked road behind her.

    The mare turned around, sprinting through the darkness and down the cracked wasteland road with purpose.

    ** ** **

    Skeleton's of buildings loitered near the cracked road that ran in between them, their blackened and rotting frames blending into the dark night sky. Reck Lass turned her head as she walked down the broken road, her spiked hooves making a slight clicking sound each time they landed, to the rusted green sign next to her, it's surface a mixture of green, grey and flaking brown.

    Welcome to Sunnyville, SUCK MY DICK

    The last “addition” to the sign was in sloppily painted in red graphitti, and the adventurous mare started to notice the small images littered around the aged sign, most of them violent or pornographic in nature. Reck Lass almost snickered at the poor quality of all the drawings, though she raised an eyebrow as her eyes ran over a picture of a smiling mare spreading her legs, showing off her genitalia. It very well done, care and consideration obviously taken to complete piece.

    Raiders with too much time...” Reck Lass muttered to herself as she trotted forward, now scanning the small ravaged town for any sign of a school.

    The mare nearly jumped into the air as an explosion rocked the brown ground, followed by a flash of debris strewn yellow light in the town, coming from a partially collapsed tan brick building.

    The mare took an involuntary step back, tensing up as gunfire started to ring across the small town, flashes of yellow appearing like small lightning bolts.

    Reck Lass momentarily closed her eyes, her slow trot forward turning into a run. I'm running into a shitstorm, the mare thought, readying Shine in her mouth and positioning the bloody hatchet so it's handle stuck out of her satchel.

    As Reck Lass approached the crumbling buildings, she began to see several disheveled forms, most of them stallions, firing into the tan brick building. It was met by a storm of gunfire from inside. Reck Lass shoved her head down as a bullet whipped into one of the many ruins plaguing the roadside, showering her in a thick rain of wood dust and 200 year old paint. The adventurous mare strained her eyes in the darkness, almost out of Bateye and wanting to conserve the useful blue capsules, and saw two ragged mare forms standing in the hole created by the large blast, their faces lit by the almost constant fire of there weapons. The first, a brown coated and green maned earth pony, stood awkwardly upright with a black jury rigged assault rifle in her hooves, haphazardly firing at the slowly advancing line of raiders. The pink unicorn next to her was covered tail to nose in blood, her yellow construction hat dented by bullets and the axe hanging from her side covered in brains; She wildly fired her levitating scavenged SMG into the crowd of raiders, wounding more of the rusted mailboxes littering the area than ponies.

    Reck Lass shrieked as a line of bullets tore into the pavement in front of her, sending dark grey chunks sailing into the dark night, and the red maned mare diving behind a torn blue wall, it's baby blue paint all but peeled off. Reck Lass hunched her shoulders as a rifle shot cracked across the night, followed by a commanding voice.

    Don't take another step, dickheads! If you take your cum stained hooves any closer to this fucking school we're killing all your soldier colts! Dead NCR don't get a damn ransom, now do they?” The voice screamed, booming through the cold night.

    Reck Lass poked her head from the peeling blue wall, feeling her body jolt as she saw the scene in the hole in the wall. A orange unicorn mare stood next to the other two slavers, a stallion barely an adult kneeling in front of the slaver, a levitating rusty shotgun pressed to his forehead. His green uniform was tattered, and dark blood leaked through several wounds on his purple coat, and even from the distance she was at, Reck Lass could tell that he was violently trembling from a foul mixture of pain and fear. The red maned adventurer slowly rounded the corner of her old cover, as cautiously as she could manage, trotting down the cracked grey road.

    The shooting between the raiders and the slavers completely stopped, replaced by nervous murmuring among the many raiders, the mares voices filled with even more worry. Reck Lass's eyes widened as an odd figure stepped out of the throng of armed raiders, his metal and kevlar suit worn down from countless battles. The ghoul raider loudly cleared his throat, placing his green grenade rifle on the hard ground and tapping the revolver on his chest, several raiders taking a frightened step back as he did so.

    Then get out of our town!” The ghoul screamed in his rough voice, anger flashing across his rotting face as he stamped his metal clad hoof with a loud clang. “We don't want any 42 poking their dirty heads into our territory, looking for their deserters or any slaves! Tell Chains she can go fuck herself with a piece of rusty rebar, her former girls are mine now, raiders of Paint Stroke!”

    Several of the mare raiders standing behind the ghoul cheered in approval, not even noticing as the red maned mare stealthily crept along the road, pressing to the ground like a shadow, a very visible red shadow. Reck Lass took a deep breath as the mangy head of one of the raiders turned in her direction, his face suddenly taking on a surprised expression, slowly moving the bridle of his hunting rifle battle-saddle to his mouth. The adventurous mare raised Shine up, ready to disintegrate the raider who was riddled with several bullets from the slavers, though she felt herself merely staring into the raiders diseased, purple eyes.

    Dude...somepony's coming right up on our ass!” The raider screamed a moment later, causing each of the raiders heads to turn, crude weapons ready.

    The red maned mare swore underneath her breath, making a run for one of the ravaged buildings, though her blood ran cold when she heard a familiar voice call out over the noisy raiders, full of fury and spite.

    That's her! That's the cunt who shot Dust Cloud, Ah saw it muhself!” Skull screamed, suddenly appearing from the hole into the dark school, a sawed off shotgun clenched firmly in her rotting teeth.

    The adventurous mare dived behind an old and rusted refrigerator, gasping as a bullet ran over her hoof, nearly punching though it. The sound was deafening as bullet after bullet slammed into the torn building around the mare and the old refrigerator she was using as cover, each one cracking like thunder.

    You s-stupid mare!” Reck Lass scolded herself, ducking as a bullet tore through the rusted fridge and nearly splattered her across the grey unpainted wall in front of her. "You could've just waited until they were done talking and sneaked in there! But you had to play the d-damn hero!" She finished, firing a purple ray from Shine's silver tip to tear through the fridge to streak though the throng of raiders beyond.

    The mare growled as she heard no sign of the ray doing any damage, slowly moving to a crouching position, trying to force herself to stay calm as bullets whizzed around the destroyed building. She couldn't just take cover behind the rusted fridge forever, eventually a raider bullet was going to kill her, or worse, mortally wound her and leave her to the slavers or raiders. Suddenly an image flashed in Reck Lass's head, the ghoul raider carelessly laying his grenade rifle on the ground. She knew she could kill most, if not all, the raiders with a few well placed shots with that machine even if she was not well versed in explosive weapons. Reck Lass braced her back hoof against the dusty wasteland ground, her green eyes narrowing as they focused on the next place to take cover in front of her, the broken grey wall of the ravaged house.

    The mare sprinted forward as fast as her legs could carry her, merely gritting her teeth as a bullet skimmed over her back, a blood red trail following behind it as it sailed into the night. Pain flashed through Reck Lass's body as she desperately slammed into the wall, blood now running down her back in a small stream. The mare's heavy breathing momentarily stopped as she felt her nose begin to twitch, followed by a horrible itching.Trusting her body, the mare savagely swung her rusted spiked hooves, fighting a squeamish feeling as they slammed into something soft and showering her hooves in red, glistening gore.

    The machete wielding lime green stallion screamed as he stumbled back, his shoulder torn open and displaying his bloody pink muscles, violently contracting from pain. Suddenly the raider leaped at the young mare, his crude and aged machete aiming for her throat. The weapon nosily clanged as it tore into the brick of the wall, Reck Lass's head nearly pressed to the dirty floor as she evaded the blow. The raider viciously snarled, jerking his head to pull the machete out of the wall.

    Reck Lass was already dashing forward though, the aged grenade rifle sitting by the revolver wielding ghoul's metal clad feet now in her sights. The mare suddenly felt her mouth go slightly open as she got closer to the group of raiders, desperately weaving as half of them shot at her, and the other half reopened fire on the 42 in the old school. She had thought of using the grenade rifle but not how to...get it.

    It really wouldn't have hurt if she had thought this out a little bit more.

    The mare gasped as she heard the ear-splitting bang of a shotgun, fear for the NCR soldier jolting through her body. The young stallion was laying on the now bloody ground in front of the orange unicorn, pain filled wails escaping his lips as he writhed in his own dark blood, his severed forehoof laying in a puddle of blood in front of him.

    The mare turned her eyes back forward, throwing herself into a violent lunge as the grenade rifle got within reach, though the ghoul quickly turned to the side, leveling his steel revolver. Reck Lass felt herself scream, desperately firing Shine at the raider, a purple beam ripping through the night air.

    It never hit.

    Paint Stoke was thrown to the side as a bloody fire axe split into his leg, spraying blood over Reck Lass's face and allowing the bloody bone inside his leg to stick out. He fell to the ground, his raspy voice screaming as he struggled to get up. Reck Lass turned her head as she wiped the ghoul's disgusting, diseased blood from her eyes, the grenade rifle seeming to glow with possibility among the slick blood and shining bullet casings that littering the ground. The mare took the aged green weapon in her teeth, and she felt herself shaking from it's weight as she pointed at the crowd of raider's, many of them recognizing the threat and running into the dark night.

    As Reck Lass pulled the rusted trigger, it's foul taste spreading through her mouth, a strong form rushed into her side, sending the young mare trembling to the dusty ground and the dark grey grenades spraying across the ruins.

    The first landed were Reck Lass had intended, slamming into the dusty ground in between the remaining raiders, sending several flying though the air into ravaged buildings, their bloody detached limbs close behind. The next two slammed against the tan school, the first merely creating another ragged hole and spraying tan bricks across Sunnyville, while the next soared deep into the wall, landing behind the blood covered unicorn. The slaver's head tore off her body, being violently thrown across the hole like everypony inside, including the still wailing NCR soldier, who's blood was now mixing with the slavers.

    Reck Lass turned her eyes from the bloody scenes to the white mare looming above her, her sawed off shotgun dangling from her now empty leather bandoleers,and her bloody rusted combat knife clenched firmly in her teeth. Skull pushed down on Reck Lass's chest, a mixture of rage and satisfaction splayed across her painted face.

    "Ah really don't givva' fuck if yuh went and told Body Count 'bout this whole affair. 'Cuz Im'a still get to fuckin' kill yuh, then Ah'll use that fancy pistol of yours to disintegrate that bitch!" Skull screamed at Reck Lass, her spittle covering her face as she thrust forward with her knife.

    Reck Lass threw her red maned head to the side, screaming in rage and pain as the knife cut into her shoulder, her own dark blood beginning to run over her body and stinging as it flowed into her eyes. Reck Lass then felt her body go numb, followed by a burning feeling, worse than when she stood over Dust Cloud, run through her body. The mare didn't notice as her hair dulled, throwing her spiked hoof up, burying it in Skull's chest with a spray of blood. The slaver wailed and took a step back, moving her head as if to throw the knife.

    Despite this, Reck Lass felt herself grinning, her teeth locking around the bloody handle of a throwing hatchet. The weapon seemed like a red streak as it sailed for Skull, it's red crusted handle glistening with freshly spilled blood as it entered Skull's already wounded chest. The mare let out a gurgle as she feel to her side, blood gushing out of the wound and forming a small red pool.

    The red maned mare pushed herself up, slowly trotting over to the wounded slaver, and yanking out the bloody hatchet with a small cloud of bloodied muscle and bone.

    The first hatchet strike killed Skull.

    The seconded opened up her head, spraying bone fragments and grey matter over Reck Lass's already filthy face.

    The last beheaded her, sending her head rolling around the mangled corpse, and causing her neck to slowly paint the wasteland ground deep red in short spurts.

    The world seemed to go quiet, the only sound the wails of the dying. Reck Lass felt herself trembling, the burning faded, and her hair slowly became bright red again, though an outside observer could not tell through the grime and blood. The adventurous mare felt her eyes slip down to Skull's body, and felt herself retch.

    The mare vomited next to the corpse, pale yellow mixing with the small red pool around her.

    "W-why?! What was that?!" Reck Lass screamed at herself, wiping some blood and vomit from her face with her gore strewn brown hoof.

    The cold barrel of a hunting rifle pressed against the mare's head, causing her to swallow, her body becoming tense.

    "O-fucking-kay, your going to listen to me right now!" The voice screamed,and the adventurous mare felt a pang as she recognized it as the voice of the raider with the hunting rifle battle saddle she had spared mere minutes ago. "Your gonna' let me get the hell out of here, and not do...that... to me! Get it you...you fucking psycho!" He finished, fear mixing in with his screaming, especially at the final statement.

    Reck Lass felt herself sigh deeply, the trembling slowly dying and her body becoming slightly looser.

    "Just, g-go, and get the fuck away from the captives." Reck Lass answered, slightly turning her head as hoofsteps started to fade into the distance behind her.

    A loud bang cracked through the almost quiet night, followed by a scream, though it was brutally cut off by another loud blast.

    The red maned mare quickly finished turning, her mouth dropping slightly open at the sight in front of her. Angar stood over the raider, who now had a bloody gaping hole in his chest with his damaged ribs peaking through the thick layer of red flesh, Angar's sawed off shotgun still smoking. The elder griffion slowly replaced the worn shotgun on his black armored chest, his eyes narrowing as he came nose to cracked beak with the red maned mare.

    What. Did. You. Do?”

    Footnote: Level Up.

    New Perk: Sense (2) --You have started accepting these odd "twitches", giving yourself use of several combat oriented twitches. 

Comments

2 Comments
  • Pinkie
    Pinkie   ·  November 14, 2015
    @Shy I do pride myself on my blood and gore! And thanks for the compliment, I really appreciate it!
  • ShyGuyWolf
    ShyGuyWolf   ·  November 13, 2015
    This is one bloody and good piece of Fan-fiction.