This story has the same premise as the first story on this pastebin.  
Post Apocalyptic Earth where large ponies(much like giant midgets) devour humans because reasons.
If the above sentence has given you any pause, do not read this story.
Seriously.
...
Alright, well I warned you.
 
>You stalk silently in the night.
>This city was once your home, but now it is your prison, and possibly your coffin.
>The pony apocalypse came as quickly as it did destroy everything about you.
>In a matter of hours, your friends, family and acquaintances were taken from you.
>Whether it was them fleeing, running or disappearing, you never got to say goodbye.
>You just awoke one morning.
>Alone.
>Sheer dumb luck can only describe how you've been able to survive thus far.
>Living a pampered life, you highly doubt you had a natural knack of survival.
>Traveling at night, sticking to the shadows and avoiding noisy areas and shrieks of panic is your plan.
>While your heart bled for the victims you heard, your lack of physical ability persuaded you to run.
>The backpack full of goods on your back was enough of a burden to you.
>Your love of preserved food and bottled water seems to have worked in your favor this time.
>You even managed to pick up a firearm amidst a battlefield long forgotten.
>The losses on both sides favored the pony kind heavily.
>But the gruesome scene it left behind is something you prefer to forget.
>Seems that they prefer their prey live than torn apart.
>You trip on nothing in particular as your legs are a painful reminder that not everything is perfect.
>Your shin splints and lack of knowledge of anything fight against you.
>Each step you take is agony, but you must press on.
>Seeing your destination, the local clinic ahead, you decide to run into an alleyway to rest.
>You throw yourself onto the ground and rest your back against the brick wall.
>Beads of sweat fall from your face as your lungs strain for air.
>You look at the weapon holstered on your side.
>Never having operated a gun before, you wouldn't know how to maintain it.
>It operated, you hope, and had one bullet left when you were playing around with it.
>You just know that finger goes on trigger, and death comes out the other end.
>You steady yourself up, using the wall to prop yourself up.
>Dragging your feet out of the alleyway, you move to the clinic.
>The dead silence of the night leads you to believe that this area has been abandoned.
>Arriving at the door, you press your ear to the door.
>Nothing.
>Slowly opening the door with your left, and gripping the gun with your right, you brace yourself.
>You peek into the room and see nothing wandering the room.
>Despite the darkness of the clinic, you hazard a chance and close the door behind you.
>The dim moonlight through the broken windows barely illuminates your surroundings.
>The waiting room area looks as if a whirlwind tore through the place.
>Broken tables, dilapidated desks, and torn magazines cover the floor.
>While the pitch black parts of the room may hide surprises, your ragged body needs rest.
>Painkillers are high on your priority list, as the sleepless nights wrack your mind.
>30 hours without so much as a nap is a nice formula for being caught.
>Taking a step into the room, the distinct crunch of broken glass crackle beneath your feet.
>”Nnngg...”
>A feeble voice pierces the darkness of the room.
>You hold perfectly still, though the light of the moon illuminates your feet.
>Looking to the source of the sound, you can barely make out a dilapidated structure of some sort.
>And a large figure beneath the wreck.
>Too large to be human.
>While your mind tells you to run, your body refuses to budge.
>Your head is swimming with emotions, limbs paralyzed in a panic.
>The figure appears to glow softly from the appendage from its head.
>A unicorn.
>Its messy pink mane is draped over its white coat, stained in dry blood.
>The baby blue eyes lock onto you as cold sweat runs down your back.
>”Please... help...”
>The weak, feminine voice draws you closer to the creature.
>You are now standing over the gentle glow as she stares at you.
>A broken vending machine appears to have claimed this pony, pinning her entire body, save her head.
>”Ahh... human...”
>Her pupils dilate as your right hand appears with a drawn gun.
>You take aim at the pony, her large head a hard target to miss.
>One shot.
>”Sorry... for everything...”
>Your finger wraps around the trigger.
>A smile creeps across her face.
>”Wish... we could've met... outside of this...”
>You remain still, gun still drawn.
>The pony slowly closes her eyes as she maintains her happy expression.
>...
>You can't do it.
>Her voice melts your heart with every parched crack, and you've never been a violent one.
>You holster your weapon silently as you drop your backpack.
>The impact of the backpack on the ground startles the pony as she opens her eyes in wonder.
>You kneel down to lift the wreckage off the pony.
>”No... wait...”
>A few seconds of effort reveal that your twig arms and lack of sleep are not enough to lift several hundred pounds of machinery.
>You tumble backwards as you recover from your foolish endeavor.
>”Food and water... I can remove this with some energy...”
>You drag your bag over to yourself, removing a few packs of dried berries and a couple of bottled waters.
>As you open these containers for her, she looks to you with an inquisitive stare.
>”Why?”
>You look to her, water bottle in hand and berries in another.
“Honestly, I don't know.  But this feels right.”
>She faces her head up, so that gravity can help in delivering the rations to her body.
>You pour the water into her mouth, tongue lapping away at the stream of water.
>Judging by her size, she will probably need a lot more than one bottle.
>But two is the most you can spare right now.
>Assuming you'll live through this.
>You hold your hand out with the berries.
>Her head doesn't change positions.
>”Drop them.”
>She opens her mouth, expecting you to make your move.
“Won't you choke on them if you eat it like that?”
>”No choice... your taste drive us wild... drop them.”
>Piecing together her logic, you tilt your hand over her mouth as she eagerly accepts the berries.
>”Thank you...”
>She lays her head on the floor for a bit with her eyes closed.
>For a moment, nothing happens.
“Are you...”
>Her horn glows a gentle teal as the metal wreckage on her is lifted.
>She looks concentrated in thought as her face strains with effort.
>The machinery only hovers a few inches off her body.
>You immediately dart down to grab one of her legs and yank her from under the floating debris.
>She assists you by pushing away with her other hooves.
>Once clear, her horn ceases to glow as the metal cluster hits the ground with a loud crash.
>You find your breath when suddenly the pony grabs you with her front legs, pulling you against her body.
>”Thank you... so much...”
>The large equine's coat, while rough where the dried blood spots were, was soft to the touch.
>Her warm body emanated a comfortable heat that threatened to pull you into a slumber.
>Still holding onto you, she lays onto the ground with you on top.
>”Please... sleep...”
>With closed eyes she immediately starts to softly snore into your ear.
>Her body rises and falls with every breath, rocking your body up and down.
>Left without a choice and an ounce of strength, you drift into sleep on your new companion.