I do not own any rights to My Little Pony : Friendship is Magic.

To Find Ourselves in the Dark

Well, lets just start this plain and simple.

My name is Drew Jerome Mantz, I'm of the age of sixteen, and I haven't seen a kind or even vaguely familiar face in about a year. I'm roughly the height of six foot one, I casually wear a zip up jacket to every type of situation. No matter what. To say, I had a pair of black combat pants, a gray, military grade, tee-shirt, and a shiny pair of combat boots on the day I'd died. And that's how it would stay.

For now.

A lost sense of crashing took over my body. Raging it into a cold scene of shock. A warm rain pounded on my head, edging off unconsciousness. Willing my aching limbs into movement, I stood again. Blood was a great sense in my mouth, as well as the smell of it was heavy. Both in fear and the amount of blood on my jacket. A few lazy thoughts of crashing a helicopter, and pretty much catching a whole city on fire.

But, a single thought outshone them all. It was that I was a survivor of a worldwide disease, that had turned everyone I knew into a mindless, brain eating society. I figured out that I had a strange immunity to it, being that I have a strong and rare blood type of O negative. Which, by fate, repels the disease and the infection.

But, that doesn't mean that they just stop trying to kill me.

Throwing my attention from my thoughts to the direction I was walking in. I seemed to be on the outskirts of a small town.

Wait, my conscious stopped me, Small town? Didn't we crash in a large city?

"Yep." I said out loud, "I'm totally dead, or that was a dream." The taste of blood in my mouth and the smell in my nose didn't make me think it was a dream. Looking about, I saw my deep-green duffle bag a few paces behind me. Taking a few cautious steps back, watching my surroundings, I kneeled at my bag. Digging into it, a few familiar items had light up my eyes. My gun belt, which held two, quite polished, Colt 1911s. Which, I had placed a large amount of time carving 'Peace' and 'Vengeance' into them. Taking up the belt, I placed it around my hip, and made sure it was tightly in place. Looking back into the bag, I saw another of my weapons. One I used for long range, which would happen to be a scoped .22 rifle. The no kickback to it helped when facing large hordes of zombified people. Taking that up as well, putting it on with its shoulder strap. Taking one another looking into the bag, it contained a small medical kit. Within this bag was a large amount of blue, red, green vials, a few bottles of painkillers, and few rolls of wet bandages. Varies kinds of medical supplies I had gathered during my time alone. The green had a quite obvious label of 'Cure'. Because, it was. In my time of showering the world with my travels, I found the weird herb that had sprouted up. Looking into it in a rundown medical lab, it repels and kills the virus that had swept up the world.

Problem is that the herb couldn't cure an already, one hundred percent, infected person. It would end up killing the person anyways. Being that the virus replicated red and white blood cells, and substituted as that.

Taking inventory in the rest of my bag. I had a pair of portable solar panels, a casual MP3 player, a small bullet speaker that ran on its own battery, and something I wouldn't of expected. That thing would be a little plushie character from a show that watched before the infection, which was a average sized plushie Fluttershy. I grinned as I saw a few bottle of water and few military grade granola bars, zipping the bag back up. Checking the other pockets, I found a case of two hundred fifty .22 rounds, unopened, and sixteen clips for my pistols.

Enough to last awhile, my conscious noted. Nodding my head as I loaded my pistols and five shells into the twenty-two. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I looked about at what I suspected to be Hell.

Or something of the sort, because I truly didn't know.

Taking out the MP3 player and speaker from my duffle bag, going through the songs. One struck me oddly, but was quite good at the moment.

This song happened to be 'Crossing Over' by Five Finger Death Punch.

Clicking it on, I began to grin like an idiot as the music gave away my position to everyone or everything around me. Points to the world. I turned, and continued my march down the path into town.