Wet. That was what I felt. And not the kind of wet that mares get all giddy about. Neither was it the kind of wet that comes with a burst pipe or water vane. No, this was entirely different. It was a feeling that I wasn't sure how I had been able to conjure up. All up and down my legs and soaked into my boots, all I felt was the sopping, slimy, nasty gook that was... mud. It was so cold, so stale that it burned. I could feel my body rotting under the conditions.
My vision came to. I was clutching a rudimentary-looking rifle. It had a sliding bolt and was much heavier than the assault weapons that we had taken to use against the Overmare. It had a much smaller magazine too. I was clothed in a green uniform, not unlike those used about half-way through the Great War. I had seen such uniforms in the paintings in Harvest's office. Boots, a belt with a bayonet, some rations, a canteen, a pouch for ammo, and some other equipment. I had a steel helmet on my head with hole for my horn to poke through. I felt like a soldier straight out of history.
I was in a trench, just deep enough for a pony to stand completely up without their head poking over the top, but only just so. The moist ruts were supported by wooden linings at set intervals. A sort of seat or perch was carved into the side of the mud wall. It was on this perch that I was now sitting. The wind chewed at my moldy coat and chilled my soft skin underneath. My teeth chattered, and my body shivered.
Around me, other ponies were in a similar fashion. Ponies matched my reaction to the biting chill. I didn't recognize some of them. Others were vaguely familiar. Some few I knew by name. Cinder looked a lot younger. Harvest was sporting a winter coat, though it had holes. Green was looking over the top of the trench through a pair of binoculars. Ponies lined the walls of the trench each looking like they were ready to drop from the cold, hunger, or in battle. One of Green's... er, Lucky Charm's hooves was clutching a heavy machine gun mounted on the brim of the endless groove.
I joined him in his vigil. Turning around to stand on the seat, I peeked my head over the edge and cast my gaze out to the horizon. What I saw took my breath away. Before me, we were not out on an open field like the battles of old. Above me was the roof of the stable remained in its perpetual state of unpolished grey. In the distance, it faded to black. It wasn't like it was a pony-length above me either. The ceiling towered over the scene, omnipresent and unchanging. It was more like we were the size of a grain of dust inside one of the stable's maze-like hallways. The area stretching away from this line was void of any color besides that constant brown of the mud. Barbed wire and craters pock-marked the landscape which was flat as a breeder cell floor. There was a single object several pony-lengths away. It looked like a mangled heap of metal. Scrap, left full of holes and scorched black from the explosion which destroyed the war machine. Three machine guns were mounted on the body, too damaged to be of any use.
A good distance away, just out of gunshot, there was another line dug in the mud. Guns matching our pointed our direction. I could see the tops of spiked helmets and heads poking out much like there was on our side. Beyond the opposing trench, metal vehicles with treads of steel, turrets with large cannons and multiple machine guns were quickly approaching. They crested the opposite trench as easily as stepping over a crease in the stable floor and began to cross the expanse between the two trenches.
There came a voice from somewhere to my right. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a white unicorn with a blue streaked mane. Most of what he said was lost on the wind. But there was one unmistakable word as the vehicles were nearly right on top of us.
"... the armor is covering their retreat! CHARGE!"
A war cry erupted. Hundreds of thousands of ponies rushed over the top of the trench. They clambered over the slick terrain. The tanks tried to tear into the line with their guns, but our numbers were too great.
I threw myself onto the frame of one of the vehicles. The gunner on top tried to get inside and close the hatch. I caught the hatch in my hooves, and ripped it open once again. Inside, I could not tell if the tank was crewed by zebras, ponies, or something else. I just knew they were the enemy. I pulled a grenade off my uniform, and threw it into the cabin. Only then, did I slam the hatch shut and lock it.
I heard the screaming. It was the same sound that I had heard when I shot the mares in the operating room. And again when that mare had been dragged into the closet by the Overmare's security ponies.
I leaped off the tank and began to run towards the enemy line. I looked over my shoulder, that was a mistake. The crew tried to slip the grenade out of the slot that the driver navigated through. It wouldn't fit. The front of the tank was blown out. Limbs and body parts were thrown all over by the explosion.
I slammed my eyes shut and ran forward. Similar scenes were repeated all up and down the line. What was this hell?
The armor done away with, our forces pushed across the hectic no mare's land that divided the two battle-lines. The enemy halted their evacuation, choosing instead to make a final stand.
BOOM! BOOM! Ka-Pow! CRUSH! Ponies disappeared inside clouds of smoke. They were not weapons fired from the enemy line. Landmines littered the field, buried in the mud. I was peppered with small stones and dirt as to my left and right ponies just exploded to hidden traps. There was a cry of pain. To my left, a small green pony who had tried to hide his wings was tangled in barb wire. He thrashed and tried to push it off of him. More and more, he was tangled and it began to strangle him.
Machine guns erupted from the groove carved in the ground, but we were too close for them to be much good.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, I made it to the enemy line. With a cry, I fixed my bayonet, and pounced onto an enemy who raised his to meet me. I parried the strike, mine plunged into the chest. I felt it give.
Withdrawing my weapon, I turned and began to fire down the trench at the other melees that had erupted all along the line. I smelled a sour tinge in the air, and lifted my gas mask. Fire, color, sound, all merged into one sense. A small grey mare with a brown mane lifted an entire tank with her magic and dropped it on top of a part of the line that had withstood our attack. Guns could do nothing to several tons of steel.
I saw an orange pony with a medical cutie mark, a combat medic. He had been skewered by an enemy wearing a gas mask much like mine. That enemy then charged at me, shrieking higher than I ever though could be physically possible. On the ground next to me was a plank of wood with four saw blades fashioned into the tip. I grabbed the makeshift club in my magic, and knocked the attacker's skewer away with my hooves. The club came down on top of the enemy's helmet, crushing it.
I stood over the bloody heap as I heard the guns fall silent. Around me, those I fought with still stood, while our adversaries laid in bloody heaps in the soggy ground.
"It's over!" Cried a white mare with a red and black streaked mane. "We've won!"
Cheering was heard. I, too, was relieved to find the battle over in a victory.
For several minutes there was celebration. Until above us, I heard a steady drum. Looking up, aircraft, fixed with two wings were diving towards our trench. Another no-man's land separated this trench from the next one back. It wasn't over. This was just one step.
A counter-attack had begun. The enemy charged the same way we had. I grabbed a machine gun and flipped it to the other side of the trench toward the oncoming fighters. A whistle sounded from above me as I began to squeeze the trigger, using their own guns to try to repel their offensive. BOOM!
Black.
I awoke back in the first trench. Only now it was not wet. It was dreadfully cold. Around me, bodies did not stir. There was a sharp pain in my head. I touched it and drew my hoof away. Blood. The brown mud was crystal-white. The bodies had been reduced to skeletons, worm-eaten and rotten.
I looked over the battlefield. That mangled mass of a tank was right where it had been, the others were gone. There were many more craters than there were last time I had seen this field. The skeletal remains of soldiers of both sides extended into each trench and beyond. The battlefield had become a killing field. Now, there was no one left to clean it up.
Before me, the broken tank roared to life. The bullet holes opened exposing a fiery maw. The cracked headlights turned an locked on me. The frame turned and began to tear towards me across the barren earth. I panicked and reached for a grenade. Where they would normally have been fixed to my uniform, I found empty hooks. I reached for a skeleton's body and saw one. I unclipped it, and hurled it at the feral machine. The machine gun on top began to fire wildly. Shots tore in every direction even though there was no one firing the weapon.
It was right on top of me. BOOM! Metal flew. I was fortunate not to have been hit by shrapnel. The tank was reduced to scrap by the explosion. There was nothing left to haunt the world any longer.
Feeling insecure in the trench, I climbed out and began to cross the field once more. The dirt cracked under my hooves, and the wind was crisp as it tore through my coat. I landed in the other trench. The gruesome scene continued unending.
I heard a moaning from somewhere underground. There was tunnel dug into the wall of the trench. I looked down into it. Was there something still alive down there? Oh there was.
Things erupted out of the hole, amalgamations crawling with vermin and parasites screaming through pain, terror, and hatred. I raised my rifle. It was rusted and the stock was split. The grip and been worn off and there were three bullet holes in the wood.
I shot, putting the creatures out of their misery. The first one died with a sputter. The next ones turned their beady eyes on me. Shrieking, they directed their fury in the direction of the only living thing in this environment.
I continued to shoot. Screaming for help as I did so. Now I was not killing for mercy, it was to save myself. I shot until I ran out of bullets. My clip went Ping! I put another one in as I scrambled out of the trench. I backed up as I shot once more.
I reached for another clip. I had none. I took my eyes off of the targets to check my bag. It had a large hole in it. I tripped over backward and reached for my bayonet. One of the creatures pounce on me. I drove my knife into its throat. It croaked and I flipped it over onto its back. The shriveled excuse of a living creature disappeared and was replace with The Overmare, my knife still protruding from her neck.
I looked up. The next creature jumped at me. Right before it made contact, it changed. Gadget was pouncing on me. I threw my hooves up, but it was too late. She slammed me to the ground and bit into my neck. Other creatures began biting my limbs and torso. I felt every tooth, every bite. The last thing I remember was a worm tearing itself into one of my open wounds and crawling through my veins.
I woke with a start. I ran my hooves over my body. I was whole. I was in Harvest's office once again wearing my Overstallion jumpsuit. I glanced into the mirror across the room. Tear stains ran down my face. I looked thin. I looked weak. My mind fashioned an image of the Overmare standing right behind me, one hoof over my shoulders. Me, reduced to that wining little colt that she could do with what she wanted.
That was not me any more. Why did I keep seeing myself like that?
I heard a faint whiff. I caught something in my magic. Turning my head, my ace was suspended in the air. The Dealer was perched atop a dresser, looking as forlorn as ever.
"You again?" I asked him. He simply nodded in response.
"Why are you here? You know I've got everything under control," I told him.
His gruff voice answered me plainly. "Do you?" He raised his face, which was hidden behind that ghastly skull.
"Yes! Everypony is safe right now. There's no fighting, and as long as we stay behind those guns, the mares can't get to us." I informed him, not without there being a bite to my words.
"Look around you" he replied. "Is it really the mares that that you are keeping out?"
"Well, any mare that is loyal to the Overmare!" I blurted out.
"What about a stallion loyal to the Overmare?" The Dealer questioned.
"There aren't any," I replied.
"And why not?" he asked. I was taken aback at this point. Why would The Dealer ask a question like that? He clearly knows the answer. I just looked away. I didn't want to think about the dancing bodies in the inferno that had become the cells. Peril had come to the stallions who stayed with the Overmare. Everypony knew that
"If one of your own ponies decided that your enemy wasn't worth fighting any more, would you let them put their guns away?" He continued.
"I-" I started, then halted. To be honest it wasn't really something that I had thought about. "I suppose?"
"Or what about a mare who hates stallions but would fight by your side against a common enemy?"
"What? What are you talking about?" I asked
"Do what needs to be done," he said. "Many perish in the wasteland by believing a fight to be over before it actually is. Make sure you finish what you start. It may be a bit more than you bargained for. It's time to ante up."
I was taken aback, what was The Dealer saying?
The Dealer began to disappear.
"Don't forget!" He shouted and gestured to the card that I still held in my magic. With that, he was gone.
I stood for a moment, contemplating what the dealer had said. I knew I needed to keep fighting until I was finished. For me, the end was when the Overmare was destroyed. When she could no longer hurt ponies the way she had. But the Dealer had also spoken about ponies loyal to the Overmare? What did he mean by that? Was there a traitor on the loose? I doubted it. If there were, somepony would know about it.
I shook my head and headed for the restroom to take a shower. Fifteen minutes later, I was in my office, getting ready to head down for something to eat, when there was a knock at my door.
"Come in!" I said.
It was that little unicorn, UP-1. What had he started to go by? Snowball? Icecap?
"Hello!" I greeted the younger pony.
"Hello, Overstallion!" He said quite energetically. "I've got big news! BIG! I know how we can beat the Overmare! In one go!"
Whew! What a chapter. I had been toying with the concept for this chapter for quite some time now, and it went through quite a few phases, so what do you all think of the end result? I look forward to your feedback.
On another note, we're at 50 chapters. 50! Not Fifteen, Fif-ty. Five zero! What an adventure this has been, and thank you to every one of you that has stuck with me this far. This blows every other project I've worked on out of the water. We're at... what... two years now? Something like that? Jeeze! Once again, a big thank you to all of you who take the time actually read my nonsense. I'd give you all a big wonderful hug if I could.
It's not over just yet though, but I cannot believe that we are at the fifty chapter mark. Feel free to leave a review if you like. Thanks again.
Brohoof! /)
