> TALES FOR NIGHTMARE NIGHT! A collection to read AFTER the lights are out! > by De Writer > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Nightmare Night > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nightmare Night ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ They were outside, chanting, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” Torchlight glistened off the bared fangs of the once innocent foals. They were not foals, exactly. Not anymore. They were being held back on leashes of chain by larger creatures that had been ponies, once. Not any longer. They had wings that were more draconic than bat-like. Some sort of gore dripped from the sharp horns that sprang out from above their fan like ears. Claws, instead of proper hooves, gripped the chains of the chanting young. Besides the torches, a pustulent moon glared down on the ghastly scene. Nightmare Moon approved of what she saw. Something touched my ankle. I looked down, shuddering. I stepped away from the severed head whose lips had given away its intent to bite. My movement alerted the chanters outside. They began to hammer and claw at the door, still chanting sweetly, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” I shied away frantically … and fell from the sleeping stall, hitting with a thump! Another dream. A nightmare, of course. I wandered out to the kitchen, where the likely cause of my bad dream lay on the table. Overate again. It is hard to stop, once I start. I gathered the bones and the remains of nearly rotted meat and dropped them into the coffin with the rest of the corpse until time for my next meal. > Theme Party > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Theme Party ~~ ~~ ~~ It was well after dark. There was a polite knock on my door. I opened it on a small gaggle of foals who looked for all the world like Changeling nymphs. Standing proudly behind them was a pony who looked to be a Changeling Queen. “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” I grinned and brought over my Foal Bowl. It was filled nearly to the brim with nicely wrapped foal treats. They bore the mark of Caramel Treat’s Sweets on the wrappers. As the foals dug into the bowl, filling their loot bags, I saw a sad look pass over the Queen’s face. “This late, and your bowl is still full? I am sorry to see that.” I sucked a lip and replied, “Blame the police for that. Last year, I set up a haunted house party. I had a big ghoul diorama. The police raided the place and dragged me downtown, accused of murder and cannibalism. They let me go the next morning, when it was shown to be phony diorama. “The arrest and publicity ruined my reputation, though. Not even the formal written apology of Chief Grim, stopped the rumors. That is it, framed on the wall, right there.” I was surprised when the Changeling Queen nodded. “I know. Their idiotic “raid” did not help their haunted house, a block over, at all. It was still a failure.” I shrugged. “I put out notices for a party this year, but not a single pony came until you showed up with these foals. Want to come in? We can still have games and contests if you like. It is all set up.” The Changeling Queen spread her insect like wings part way and replied, “We would be honored. Thank you.” The foals poured into my house! The Queen followed more sedately but with an appearance of real happiness. We had the apple ducking going full blast and a number of the foals were delightedly throwing sticker balls at a target. I had racked up prizes for that and even had some pies out on a table, ready to serve up. There was another knocking at the door. Hard banging accompanied by a loud demand of, “Open Up! We are the Police!” Standing next to the closed door, I called back, “Do you have a warrant?” “We don’t need one! Changelings were seen entering the house!” I whistled a few bars of the Funeral March. “Yes, actually, you do need a warrant to even be on or near this property. After last year’s debacle, Judge Coldheart issued a formal protective order, requiring police to have a warrant for any intrusion onto this property. You know it, too. You are the same pair that messed up so badly last year! “As for CHANGELINGS, on NIGHTMARE NIGHT? Are you out of what passes for minds? Have you ever heard of COSTUMES? Theme Parties? “How many foals have you arrested so far? Did you confiscate THEIR candies, like last year when you, according to the formal investigation, STOLE mine, intended as part of my haunted house party?” With a growl of rage, they kicked in the door, just in time to be lit by multiple flashes. Romaine, roving reporter of the Ponyville Prancer, and bane of deliberate civil misconduct, was shooting pictures as fast as the shutter on her camera could click! The horrified expressions of the two cops at being photographed in the ruin of the door was reward enough. They ran like rabbits. I turned to Romaine and said, “Thank you, Chrysalis. That was perfect.” With a sort of rippling effect, the Changeling Queen stood there, chuckling happily. “You are welcome. That made this a really memorable Nightmare Night.” Her nymphs played happily late into the night. > The Sweet Spot > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Sweet Spot ~~ ~~ ~~ The jangle of the spring bells announced another customer opening the door. I cheerfully called out, “Welcome to the Sweet Spot! Best sweets in Ponyville! Happy Nightmare Night!” The pony before me was an ugly orange, with a black mane and tail. He had a bulging loot bag but no costume. He did have a sneer on his face. “Don’t feed me none of that Nightmare Night crap! Just hoof over the Foal Bowl so’s I gets my free treats!” I stared straight back and said, “No. The sign on the door is specific. To get the free Foal Bowl treats you MUST be in costume and you must say the traditional chant. “If you don’t comply, you must buy!” He snorted, “Just hoof over your goodies or I will kick your case in and take whatever I wants! Might just do that anyway! What do you say to them apples?” I smiled widely at him, which made him nervous, and replied, “Leroi, I know you! If you try that, and you won’t be the first, you will regret it.” Goaded, Leroi kicked. Just as I hoped he would. It never connected. His loot bag sat, partly spilled on my otherwise perfectly clean floor. Whistling Berloize’s infamous Night on Ghoul Mountain, I carefully cleaned up the spilled candies. A quick check proved them all to be safe, so I poured them all into my nearly overflowing Foal Bowl. I took the empty loot bag back to my living quarters and added it to the two others under some trash for burning in my hearth. There was some thumping and muffled sound coming up from my basement. I opened the trap door and, looking down at Leroi and the other two miscreants, chained to the wall, said, “I told you not to do that.” The illusion of a smallish unicorn faded, letting him see the twin horns and tan fur, biggish ears and black nose. “Right,” I told him, “a deer. And it is far too late to grab me and make a wish. I got you first!” My horns flashed a pale light and Leroi, like the others, was muzzled. His chains pulled up tighter too. Can’t really have too much noise. I returned to the store. The spring bells jangled again. Before I could say anything, the foals chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” Smiling happily, I hoofed over the big Foal Bowl. “Help your selves, youngsters, there is plenty!” Under the approving eyes of the light blue pony in her witch costume, the gaggle of foals in every sort of costume, took my advice and grabbed hoofs full of candies and other treats. When they were done, she said it too. “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give me something sweet to bite!” She got her treats as well. I was almost sorry to see the cheerful little ones go. The next jangle of the bells brought three, looking like a grave digger, a zombie, and a ghoulish creature. Deeper voices chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” I smiled up at them and said, “You are in luck! I have something special, just for you!” I led them into the back and opened the trap to the basement. As they trooped down the stairs, I said, “Enjoy your treats!” > Nightmare Vision > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nightmare Vision ~~ ~~ ~~ “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” We all hear that on this night. It is not common to hear it coming from a graveyard. I figured that it had to be a prank. I went to look. Probably not the smartest decision that I ever made! The gate creaked on its rusty hinges. Unkempt weeds hindered its opening. I picked my way past the many headstones, a fair number of which were leaning crazily. Soon, I was getting into the older section. Moss covered many of the stones. Some were now fallen slabs or broken statuary. The call still came from up ahead. Childish voices chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” Now, the beneficent light of the moon overhead was interrupted by crooked branches, trailing moss down like great webs into my face. I have been to the graveyard on many occasions. I thought that I knew it really well. I had no recollection of this! There were ancient looking crypts and mausoleums looming on every hoof. I shuddered. It was finally penetrating my thick skull that there was something very wrong here. There was phosphorescence up ahead. It was moving. Bobbing a little as it did. Now I could see it. It was a skull, eyes glowing with a putrid light. It was held by a decaying hoof to light the way. I stopped cold. It was a small group of dead looking foals, guided by an older but very dead looking unicorn. They were all, apparently, undead, risen from the grave for this night. They knocked on the rotten wood door of a crypt. The opening gaped wide and another undead creature of nightmare held out a foal bowl filled with the earthly remains of what appeared to be a recently killed foal. The ghastly group added bits of the corpse to their gore leaking loot bags. They passed the corner of that crypt and went to the mausoleum beyond. Trying to contain my gorge, I sneaked as silently as I could, away from the horrid scene. I was nearly to the gate and the safety of the town beyond the walls that separated the living from the dead, when I tripped on a low headstone. I woke up, still inside the graveyard, to a bright dawn. My head ached. I gazed about but could see none of the unkempt, weedy, moss-grown place of the Nightmare Night just passed. Amused, I thought, “A bad dream, nothing more. I passed out or got knocked out when I fell, that is all.” Reassured, I decided to try locating any of what I had seen. All was neat and well kept, as it should be. Passing over a low hill, I came to a part of the cemetery that I had never found before. The ancient empty tombs and long abandoned crypts filled me with dread. Then I saw them. The sight that has haunted my days and nights ever since. Small hoof marks, going from crypt to tomb to mausoleum. > Putting the BITE on Trottingham > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was overcast and as near to totally dark as a night could be. The cold wind was whipping about young hooves and there was a hint of snow in the air. One foal, in a Diamond Dog outfit, looked up to the group’s escort pony, dressed as a somewhat sexy Goblin. “Tell me again about how much fun Nightmare Night treat rounds are!” She shivered, and pulled a cloak tighter around her. With a smile, the Goblin dressed mare pointed to lights ahead. “There is the Sweet Spot! Roe always has one of the best foal bowls in all of Ponyville!” Crying out, “And it’s WARM in there!” a filly among the herd of youngsters led the charge! They were gathered at the door in no time! Their Goblin mare reminded them, “Don’t forget your Nightmare Night chant when we go in!” She opened the door to the jangle of spring bells. Foals in a (small) multitude of costumes boiled into the shop, calling in their best clear voices, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” Roe, the smallish cream colored unicorn who ran the Sweet Spot, grinned widely at the sudden giggles of the foals. He had a pair of obviously phony deer antlers on his head, held in place by a springy metal strip! The rest of his costume was a tan colored cloak with white spots and a phony short tail like what a deer is supposed to have, if stories about them have any truth at all! Snickering at the reaction of the foals, one of whom was also in a deer costume, Roe hoofed over his justly famous foal bowl. While the foals were helping themselves, the Goblin dressed mare watched, a few tears at the corners of her eyes. Roe looked up to her and offered compassionately, “Charlie was here in the morning three days ago. He ordered a candy box for you, Prilla. He hasn’t been back yet to pick it up.” Swallowing hard, trying not to break down in front of the foals on what was supposed to be a happy occasion, Prilla replied, “He won’t be back. Charlie was killed at work, three days ago. Some stupid horseplay. He was up on a ladder. One of Sawnax’s delivery ponies kicked the ladder out from under him for a prank and he fell. He only lived a few minutes. “At least the pony that killed him is in jail!” Roe nodded sadly. “Charlie was often in here to buy you treats. He spoke of how much he loved you and of your plans for a home and family.” Nearly bawling, Prilla replied, “What will I do now? He is gone! I still love him so!” Roe reached across his counter and took her hoof. Switching the grip so that hers was on his, he said, “Oh dear! You have caught a wish granting Deer! “Seriously, though, what do you want?” Prilla smiled sadly at the byplay and replied, “I want Charlie and I to be side by side for the rest of my life. I wish that it could happen, it won’t.” Releasing their grip, Roe shrugged. “It is Nightmare Night. Who knows what might happen? Take care of your little herd of foals and then come back here. We have some things to discuss.” She gave Roe a sort of confused look, shook her head, and led the gaggle of foals on to the next shop. Later, nearly at midnight, Prilla did return. She was almost surprised to find the Sweet Spot’s door still open and candles lit. Roe smiled at her and pointed to a door at the back of the shop. “My quarters are back there. Go on in, while I close up.” In only moments, Roe joined her in his quarters. He offered her a warm mulled cider and suggested, “Sit. Disregard whether it can happen or not. Do you still wish that Charlie and you could be side by side for the rest of your life?” Carefully putting aside her cider, Prilla did break down. Roe let her sob her heart out. While she was crying, he put aside is silly false antlers and costume. The cream colored unicorn slowly faded. In his place sat a deer, his antlers totally real, his fur tan, and narrow, graceful legs ending in split hooves. Gently, her reached over and took her into a hug. As a joke, he said, “Oh DEER, I have caught a PONY! What wish shall I make of it?” Prilla actually giggled before she realized what sort of being was holding her. Dumbfounded, she shuddered, “Were you serious? How can you bring Charlie back?” Releasing her, Roe sat back and candidly replied, “Technically, not even I can do that. There are two loopholes though. One is that this is Nightmare Night. It really is special. The other is equally simple. If Charlie cannot return to life, exactly, you can join him without being dead exactly. “Tonight I can bring the two of you together. I KNOW that he wants it. Knowing that you will be, like him, a vampony, existing from the blood of the living, do you still want to be with him?” Disturbed, Prilla asked, “What about all of those things that I have heard about vamponies? I mean, having to be in their coffin before sun up? The sun being deadly and all of that? What about being a blood lusting monster?” Roe nodded, “Mostly wrong. To avoid having to explain this all twice, why don’t you go open that door to my back yard and invite him in?” In spite of her earlier reluctance, Prilla nearly flew to the door! “Charlie! I was afraid that I would never see you again!” She paused and asked, “Why don’t you come in?” Roe called, “Yes, Charlie, come in!” With that, he did enter easily. Roe watched them hug for a bit and then offered, “You both need to learn some things. You will have time enough for love if you manage things well.” They surfaced from hugs and cuddles. “What do we need to know?” Dryly, Roe retorted, “A lot. Most of what you know about vamponies is wrong. It has been spread by vamponies for self protection. “Let’s start with the basics. You no more need to avoid the sun than I do. It will weaken you. You will be no stronger than an ordinary pony and will have all the same limitations. It is also a bit irritating but nothing serious. “Return to your grave, coffin or ‘native soil’? Make me laugh. Being in a brightly lit place is disruptive of rest, that is all. You will do best on the night shift, trust me. “Needing an invitation to enter somepony’s home? You just experienced it. That is real. At night. In the day? You are an ordinary pony. “Ravening, Blood Crazed Monster? Why have you not already ripped out her throat? At night you can cloud a mind enough to drink from another pony without them noticing it. Do not fear that you will make them into a vampony. You won’t. If you take too much, you will weaken or kill them. “To make another vampony requires that you drink from them on two nights in a row. On the third night, they must have some of your blood. They will appear to be dead soon after. On the third night after their 'death’, they will arise as a vampony.” Charlie raised a doubtful hoof. “Didn’t have any of that happen to me. How come I am here?” Roe nodded cheerfully. “Blame her. This is Nightmare Night. She had a perfectly real deer by the hoof and made a wish. Normally, I can’t do any wish that would raise the dead. Even on Nightmare Night, I can’t return you to the living, quite. Vanpony is the best that I can do. If you both agree, I CAN put you back into your grave, dead as a coffin nail.” Both of the reunited lovers looked up, shocked. “NO! We are back together and do not want to be parted!” Roe nodded happily, “Good! One last thing then, don’t stick around here where you are well known. Ponies that know that you died will see you and the hunt will be on! I would suggest Trottingham as being far enough away and big enough to make an excellent feeding area.” With total trust, Prilla offered Charlie her neck. His bite was both gentle and brief. The next day, Prilla hired a cart and shut herself in, packing and mourning her loss. On the morning of the fourth day after Nightmare Night, she and a piebald pony finished loading her things and took to the traces, pulling the wagon out of Ponyville. Prilla stopped by the Sweet Spot for a moment. All smiles, she hugged Roe, the cream colored unicorn and declared, “No wish, this time, my friend. Your help and advice were just what I needed!” With a wide grin that showed a pair of needle like fangs, she said, “Vam-Prilla and Charlie are off to put the BITE on Trottingham!” ~THE END~ > NIGHTMARE NIGHT AT GRUMPY'S CAVE! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIGHTMARE NIGHT AT GRUMPY’S CAVE! A Grumpy Goat >tail< It was nearly Nightmare Night’s Eve. Humming quietly to myself, I was busy preparing foal bowl treats in the kitchen of my cave. The Litch King, Lord of the Dead, actually leaned his skeletal head over my shoulder to watch. In an amused voice, he asked, “Are you really expecting foals up here on the mountain, Nightmare Nighting, Grumpy?” Turning my own bare skull, with its everburning candle set between its curled horns, to my friend and guest, I replied, “No, not really, Clarence. I expect a quiet night that we can spend reading a Daring Do book or something of the sort.” The Litch King nodded happily. “I would like that, Grumpy. I was looking forward to doing Nightmare Night at Caramel Treat’s again this year. It is a pity that she got tied up by that big catering order.” I replied, I know. “Even Coalsmoke and Romaine are going to the big Town Hall Nightmare Night Costume Gala. It is a Charity event that has tied up all of our friends.” I finished putting sticks into the treats so that I could dip them. As I swirled chocolate onto the prepared treats, Clarence, the Litch King wrapped them in waxed paper and added them to the growing collection in the big foal bowl. Bare bone should not be able to smile but it can. If it is the Litch King’s bare, bone skull that is smiling. Or the very well done glamor spells on my own skull. Those can smile or show other expressions, too. Clarence asked, all too innocently, “If none come for the treats, what will become of them, Grumpy?” My skull grinned, “Why do you think that I am fixing treats that are favorites of OURS, Clarence? We will get what is left after Nightmare Night.” Fractionally before the knock, Clarence turned his head to the door. I looked out the spy hole in the door. It was a lone Rom horse whose fur was one of the strange color patterns that they have. I believe that it is called dappled gray. It appeared that she was distraught. I opened the door in my steel plated front cave entrance to let her in. As she stepped in, Clarence said, “Welcome, Seira Nan Halit, of the band of Sando.” She did come in, but gave Clarence a sharp look. “How is it that you know my name and band?” I offered, “What you see is not a costume or disguise spell of some kind. This is the Litch King, Lord of the Dead. He knows all mortals. Most of them do not especially want to get to know him.” Showing no trace of fear or repugnance, Seira gave him a courtly curtsy. “It appears that I have truly come to the best place for what I need. “My sister, Lann Dra Halit is in the Ponyville General Horsepital. Some recent events have purged the bad elements of the Medical Society and they are seeing to her care at no charge, just as Marchhare said that they would. “She is so ill that she could not even Pull from after Mareimount to here. She was distressed that we had to carry her in the caravan. In spite of what Marchhare told us about coming here, the doctors have said that she is soon to go to the Lake. Our Loved Dead Are Always With Us but I do not want her to pass from us who live.” I nodded gently and said, “Few want to lose loved family members. What, exactly, is it that you want from me?” “Whatever it takes to do it, I want my sister Lann to live.” I glamored myself a visible body, in fact it was my handsome piebald black brown and white body that I had back when I was still alive. Kept the skull, though. It was the last real part of me that I have left. Besides, it was Nightmare Night, after all. I nodded, “Because you are not seeking any sort of harm to another, I will reduce my usual fee. If I can do anything for your sister, it will only cost you a single golden bit and something that I hope that you and those of your band who are here will enjoy. “First, I need to ask the Litch King if anything needs to be done or if anything can be done.” I turned to Clarence and requested, “Your Majesty, is the horse Lann Dra Halit due to die soon?” Clarence said softly, “I have an Appointment with her at 2:35 AM, tonight.” Seira was starting to cry in a heartbroken way. I asked Clarence, “Is her death a Fated one or can it be changed?” Clarence replied, “Her death is not Fated. Make your contract, Grumpy.” Seira looked up, hope in her almost golden brown eyes. “I have the bit. You mentioned something else, too?” I nodded briskly. “Right. For some reason, the Ponyville Town Hall Costume Gala does not want either the Litch King or myself to be there. They also sucked in our whole circle of friends. We were going to be alone tonight. Bring up those of your band that are here in Ponyville. We will make a party of it!” Suddenly she grinned, ear to ear, as they say. “The Gala not only did not want us to perform, they told us not to do our usual evening dances and songs at the Fairgrounds, where we are encamped. “The band will love this!” She pulled out the required gold bit. I pulled out the required contract. It was a simple one, quickly drawn. As I was writing it up, I saw Seira on a Magic Net mirror. As wide spread as the Magic Net is, it is hard to remember that it was the Rom who invented it. I figured that she was spreading the good word about her sister. Seira and I practically raced down to Ponyville to register the contract. She and I were then going to go and get her band. Clarence and I were going to have our own Nightmare Night party! Inside the hall of records, Mol was behind the counter as usual. Today, my elderly friend was in a really phony deer costume. Pretending to be totally taken in, I asked, “Who are you and where is the lovely Mol today?” Giggling, Mol set about registering my contract. Her eyes widened when she saw what it was about. Proving that there are good ponies in the world, Mol quietly paid the twenty bit registration fee for a goat’s contract to heal a sick Rom. Glancing at the clock, Mol said happily, “Quitting time! This stupid Gala has killed all the usual parties. Even Caramel Treat’s party has been ruined. What are you going to do, Grumpy?” I grinned, “Mol, my lovely, would you honor us by coming to OUR party? They even told the Rom not to do their usual road camp partying. As a result, we have conspired together. The Rom are coming up to my cave and we are going to have a party there!” Mol smiled widely and exclaimed, “Rom dances and songs? That will be too much fun to resist! Are you cooking for the party, Grumpy?” Seira grinned, “He can if he wants to, of course. We are going to cater it with Ka'chek goodies and a variety of hot and cold drinks! We want to celebrate Lann getting healed!” Leaning close, she whispered, “We are getting some special guests too! Marchhare is coming from Roan Oak and both Tia and Midnight will come from Canterlot!” I stopped cold. “You mean that Princess Celestia, Princess Luna and the Ghost Who Guides are all coming to my little party!?” A haughty voice behind us sneered, “If the Princesses ARE coming, they have to go to the Gala! No other party is being allowed in Ponyville!” Seira glared at the off tan pony with the blue mane. “No, MISTER LARD BUTT! Grumpeter’s Mountain is completely outside of Ponyville! You cannot do anything about it!” He grinned meanly and retorted, “You lot try to leave those caravans of yours, might come back to nothing! They could get stolen, robbed, busted up or burned! That party is OVER! Got it?” I replied serenely, “Got it. I have been PAID to provide the caravans and their whole camp with safety from any harm at all.” He was trying to block our way out of the building so I hit him with my pet defensive spell. Because Larbut, Vice President in charge of Ponyville’s branch of Equestrian National Bank, was being a creep, I was smiling with delight, I said, “Blooper!” That is the one word trigger for a guaranteed non lethal bit of amusement that I call Friday the 13th! Like its namesake, it lasts for a day unless I dispel it. A day full of every sort of clumsiness, embarrassment, and bad luck known to ponies! As we strolled around him, Mister Larbut tried to turn so that he could block us again and tripped on the carpet runner. In falling, his jaw just missed the softer carpet runner. Clack! Upper teeth hit the lower as his jaw struck the hardwood of the floor! Seira, watching the debacle in fascination, offered, “Our caravans appear to be in the best of hooves!” The last that we saw of him, he was trying to extricate his portly hindquarters from a waste bin. When the Rom heard about my prowess at the town hall they were delighted. I cheerfully set about my non-equine magic, laying traps for the unwary or wary ones who might try to do any form of harm or mischief to these caravans or their camp itself. The Rom and Mol watched me inscribe circles, draw runes inside them, chant things and light a few candles at “cardinal points” as I did all the above. About 90% of what they saw was pure misdirection and showmanship. The hidden 10% would do the real job. The Rom, who belonged there, were carefully excluded from the assorted delights that I laid. We gathered up goodies, supplies, and cooking gear before trooping off across town toward my mountain. The climb up the trail to my cave was actually uneventful, except for a wonderful view of the sunset. The Rom are expert at setting up parties! They had the fire going, water heating for hot drinks and snacks on the grill that fast! The music started almost the moment that we got to the ledge. It took almost no time before they were dancing and singing in their own Gyptian tongue. If I did not understand the words, the beauty of the music and the dances made up for it. Shortly, an elderly donkey in Rom sashes, harness and Freedom wandered out to the ledge, where I was. “So, that is the Litch King. Nice fellow. I do think that I would have remembered meeting him if I did die, over 800 years ago.” I thought for only a second before replying, “You have said that you do not remember any paradise, like the Lake, either. It sounds to me like you had to leave some memories behind in order to return. Perhaps meeting him was among them.” Marchhare, the Rom’s Ghost Who Guides, flopped one ear comically as he thought that over. “I never thought of that before. Of course, I try not to think about being dead too much.” Just then we heard from above, “Clear the ledge! Royal Guard landing!” That was followed by Celestia’s voice demanding, “Captain! We have told you before this, do not try pushing these civilians around! Land by threes and mingle with the crowd!” One of the first three to land bulled his way toward the treat tray, muttering, “Mingle with THIS crowd? A donkey, a goat and a bunch of worthless Rom?” Out of order for any sort of military show, a large blue, almost black, alicorn alighted silently behind him. She was wearing Rom sashes and harness. There was a Freedom, sort of like a headstall, but so designed that no bit or lead ring could be mounted to it, on her head. It was of brilliantly tooled leather, dyed and highlighted expertly. She cut him off in mid grump. “Baron, you and the rest of this Guard imposed yourselves upon Us, my sister and I. You are correct. You are NOT WORTHY to mingle with THESE horses, that donkey or the GOAT. THEY ARE FRIENDS OF OURS and YOU ARE NOT!” I just had to shove a hoof up his rump, so to speak. “As the dead goat in question, you know, the one who OWNS this place, may I make a suggestion for Baron Sir Noseinair?” Princess Luna, Midnight among the Rom, smiled, Nightmare fangs showing. “Please, Grumpeter, do make whatever suggestion you think fit. I, personally, favor sending him to the Prance frontier. I hear that there is a lot of unrest there.” I nodded, “True enough. I could even guarantee that he would not survive. He does not need such drastic treatment though.” I pointed to my trail head. “Since he does not want to mingle, as you ORDERED, let him have the privilege of guarding the trail. Stand him just off the ledge. Require full formal guard brace until the party is over or he is relieved.” Celestia, Tia among the Rom, had landed and the rest of the Royal Guard were down in good order. She whispered to the Captain, who nodded understanding. He came over and ordered, “Baron, you are to stand at formal brace over there, just off the ledge. You may not speak to any here without Royal leave. That is an order.” The Baron skulked to the indicated spot. Instead of a formal brace, he slouched and stared enviously at the rest of the guards being offered snacks and drinks. They were relaxed and laughing, watching the Rom dancing just for the joy of dancing. Silly party games were going on. Ducking for apples. Safe target and ring toss games. Guessing games. All sorts of fun. Acting like they were having more fun than was proper at all, both Midnight and Tia were helping to cook and serve snacks! As the baron’s jaw dropped at the sight, a small herd of foals, escorted by a mare in a vampony costume, finished the long climb from town to my ledge. He was just starting to snap, “Clear off! This is a very private …” when Midnight herself cut him off. “Welcome! Can you stay for Grumpy Goat’s Nightmare Night party? We have plenty to share! The foal bowl is just over there! Be sure to get some for your loot bags!” Turning to the embarrassed baron, she said clearly enough to be heard by every pony, donkey, horse or goat on the ledge, “You were ORDERED to formal Guard Brace and to not speak without our leave. This is inexcusable behavior for any guard of ours. “Brace, NOW!” More torches, several groups of them, were advancing up the trail. Clarence wandered over and stared at the hapless baron. Turning to Midnight, he inquired, “Should I make, um, an ‘adjustment’ to this one’s Appointment with Me? It would be no trouble at all.” Midnight turned a Nightmare smile to Clarence and replied, “No, my old friend. My present Captain of the Guard was as bad or worse when he started. This is the baron’s first Guard posting beyond Canterlot. Give him the time to grow and understand.” The next group of foals arrived. They were escorted by a huge Everfree Ridgeback Wolf. Midnight called in delight, “Fangrin! I see that you brought more young ones to Grumpy’s party! How did you get free from helping with the Gala? Where is Caramel?” She took the time to offer the foal bowl to the youngsters in their costumes. Fangrin grinned a perfectly genuine wolf’s grin, full of fangs. “When Caramel found out about the Council shutting down even private home parties to inflate their Gala at the expense of the fun of every foal in town, she quit! She told them that they had all the food and could serve it themselves! “We heard about Grumpy having a party, outside of Ponyville! We split up so that we could bring as many foals up here to party as we could! She is leading that group up!” He pointed with a furred and clawed paw. As the party grew, I noticed an oddity. The ledge out in front of my cave and my front room were not getting crowded. There was room for everyhorse, filly, colt, pony and all. I saw Tia consulting with Marchhare and pointing out what appeared to be the same thing. I overheard, “Right. De Writer actually did it. He wishes that he could be here but the Edict of Banishment has no loophole.” She said something that I missed, with the din of the party. Marchhare’s reply was, “He calls it Mathemagic. Something about classes of Infinity. That is what I know of it.” The foals arriving, and knowing that Caramel Treat and Fangrin had quit the Gala, really made the party for me. I saw that Caramel Treat and Fangrin both were happily assisting with the party snacks and drinks. Midnight is not the only one who loves to cook! It was getting late on Nightmare Night. Clarence, the Litch King, Lord of the Dead, stood and called out, “I have an announcement to make! “Many of you know who I am. I am in fact the Lord of the Dead. I had an Appointment with the Rom mare, Lann Dra Halit at 2:35 in Ponyville General Horsepital. “Thanks to the love of her sister Seira and a contract drawn by our Host, Grumpeter Goat, I have not kept that Appointment. Her illness was grave. She will need time to recover before she can Pull again, but she will!” The Rom all leaned back, muzzles to the sky or roof and trilled their joy! Midnight had tears in her eyes. “That we celebrate the saving of the life of a friend on Nightmare Night is the best gift that I could get!” A couple of the foals, one dressed as a vampony and the other, I realized with a shock, was an attempt to be ME went to the foal bowl and chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” The Werewolf, Caramel Treat, gave the vampony one of my cherry centered chocolate dipped goodies. With a grin, she exclaimed, “It will bleed red when you bite it!” Clarence, the Lord of the Dead, hoofed over a treat to the colt disguised as me and said, “Friendship can reach beyond the bounds of life and death. Happy Nightmare Night!” ~THE END~ > Nightmare Night Surprise! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Unger glanced around furtively to be sure that he was not being watched by anypony. He knew the Ponyville graveyard like the back of his hoof and this grave, in spite of what the headstone said, and the sound turf over it, had not been here as recently as last week. There was something down there that was worth checking out, too. It was hard to pin down exactly how he knew that. It was sort of like a scent, but not quite. Sure that nopony was watching this remote corner of the graveyard, even though the day was going to yield to Nightmare Night in a few hours, Unger set shovel to turf. He expertly cut turves free, setting them aside. Once he had made a big enough patch of bare earth, he began to dig in earnest, piling the dirt onto a tarp that he had brought for just that purpose. He had a sprinkle can full of water along too. When he was done, there would be almost no sign that he had ever been there. It did not matter that he was an Earth Pony, digging like this was hard work! Unger was sweating but grinned as he made a slight correction to the emphasis, there. WAS an Earth Pony! Not quite one, anymore. Earth, for sure. It was that Pony part that he had his doubts about! Sweating from his toil, Unger still found a certain pleasure in the rhythm of of it. Stab and stomp the shovel in, pry the clod free and swing it up and onto the tarp and repeat. He paused for a sip of water that he had brought to drink and contemplated the headstone of the grave that he was opening. Desmond Racula, Count of the Across Forest. The dates of his life were apparently worn from age. Unger chuckled at it and wondered if the Count had good taste or would taste good? Snickering, he thought, “I will know soon enough!” The sun was setting as he got down to the ornate coffin. He eagerly cleared the last of the dirt from its lid. The last bit of the sun slunk from view as Unger hungrily reached to pry open the top of the ancient looking coffin. As a joke, he chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a Fright!” Shocked, he never finished the words! From inside, the chant was finished, “Give me something sweet to bite!” The coffin’s lid flew to one side as the hungry vampony leaped, lunging for his throat! ~The End~ > The TAIL of the Ghost > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He awoke to the almost feathery sensation of tail hairs flirting softly across his face. Again. The soft, sweet voice of the young mare offered, “Up, Old Warrior! It is time for us to battle another night away!” Opening one eye, the Old Warrior beheld two things. One, the young mare was right. The sun was setting. Time for him to get up and fry a few hay twists for breakfast. The other was a bit more awkward to see. The young mare herself. Other than the fact that her mane and tail were darker than the fur that covered the rest of her, there was simply not much to be seen. Her outlines were slightly hazy and he could see the wall mount with his old battle honors and medals right through her. Years ago, needing to reduce the size of a peacetime army, Master Sargent Warrin had been mustered out for his age and infirmity. Some Infirmity. True, he was missing the tip joint of his right wing. That had failed to slow him down any. Only dumb headquarters brass saw it as an infirmity. When mustered out, Master Sargent Warrin had got from his forward post in the forest to Fort Everfree Edge faster than the overweight but “fit” pegasus Lieutenant that had delivered his Orders. The scene that followed had got “insolence” added to his mustering out Orders. All that he had done, after all, was point out to Base Commander Morrgripe that the UNFIT pony that they were mustering out could out run, out fly and carry a heavier battle pack in the air or on foot than ANY officer in the Fort. That might have been bad enough, but the 950 golden bits that he had won while proving it, including a bet from the BC, had earned him the insolent tag. Then the Prance border heated up a few years later. For the fourth time! They tried to get him to sign a forced reenlistment. He had taken great pleasure in rubbing the Infirmity Muster Out in their faces! At that time he was employed flying express post for Princess Luna’s Royal Road Commission. AND had racked up SIX commendations for his swift deliveries! He was smiling as he looked up at his second wall mount. The commendations for swift post and two of Luna’s Crescents for gallantry in dealing with deadly civil emergencies were in it. The sweet little mare poked her head through the wall near the stove where he was seasoning his frying hay twists with assorted dried flower tops. With not a care in the world, she walked on into the kitchen, hooves about 10 cm above the floor. “Smells lovely, Old Warrior. I wish that I could eat some along with you. That is something that I miss a lot. “Until you came, ponies that stayed here at this old chateau were afraid of me. I just saw you smiling. Was it remembering your Insolence or was it the Fast Post Service that you were remembering?” He looked up and offered her a small plate of his seasoned hay twist. “It was a little of all three things, Sweetie. The third being you, of course. Mostly you. “Here, this plate is yours for now. If you cannot eat what I cooked for you, at least you can smell it and share breakfast with me that way.” Her eyes twinkling, the little mare, Sweetie, sat. On the air. And sniffed appreciatively. He poured her a small cup of the strong Rom black tea that he favored. She smelled that too, a blissfully happy expression on her face. He watched in fascination as she reached out a hoof and the day’s mail appeared in the same ghostly form as herself. When she took back her hoof, all of his day’s mail was solidly there on the table. She seemed to be pleased at his expression. He sorted his mail and made a sour expression when he opened one with the Army Retirement Board seal on it. He brightened considerably at the contents of a different envelope It bore the seal of Chancery Court of Princess Luna’s Royal Road Commission. “I have to go down to Everfree Town, Sweetie. I wish that you could come with me. I enjoy your company.” She smiled like a conjurer doing a clever slight of hoof trick. “I can. I have followed you to your garden that is in the glen. Because it was daylight, you could not see me but I was there. I am hard to see in bright lamplight too. That does not stop me from seeing you, only you from seeing me.” “I thought that you were haunting this chateau.” “I was. Then you came. You were not afraid of me. You even started waking at sunset and spending the night awake, just so that you could see me and talk to me. “It took some time for me to learn how to talk to you so that you could hear me. Nobody else can hear me at all. I love being able to talk to you. The stories that you tell me of your adventures are endlessly fascinating. I especially like the one about your meeting Princess Luna on the Prance frontier.” The ex Master Sargent Warrin grinned! “You learned how to move real things and that led you to writing too! I must say that I admire your determination. I would have loved to have you in a platoon of mine! “Now, let’s go to Equesrian National Bank and try to settle this business!” Sweetie smiled happily, “I love going out with you! What is Equestrian National Bank?” Bemused, the old warrior paused in the doorway and looked over at Sweetie, who was simply strolling through the wall of the chateau. There was no porch under her but she did not seem to notice that. He mused, “Forgot how long ago you died, Sweetie. A bank is a business that takes money from many ponies and then loans it out to businesses, farms and home buyers. They make money off of the loans and then share some of what they make with the ponies they got the money from. “Usually, everypony sort of wins. While they hold my money, they keep track of how much I have and add on my share of what they earn with it.” Sweetie had no wings but she easily kept pace with him, seeming to trot along like a pegasus on a well made cloud. Except, of course, there was no cloud! With a luminous smile she explained, “I have managed to change from haunting the chateau to haunting YOU! That means that I HAVE to stay close! That makes it easy to keep up. The magic of haunting and all of that.” He flew with happy strokes of powerful wings. She trotted ahead and flirted her ghostly tail in his face sometimes! It made him get a goofy smile on his face every time that she did it. He spiraled down to the Equestrian National Bank and walked in. He requested a meeting with Mister Horshiz, the branch Vice President of Operations. Instead of having to wait, Mister Horshiz, a really sour gray maned red pony, demanded, “There you are, Warrin! Why are you six days late on the rent for the Royalmont Chateau? You owe us 1500 golden bits plus six days of penalties!” Warrin looked askance at him. “Not possible. I was PURCHASING the chateau from Princess Luna, who owned it. There is a title deed transfer that my agent told me has been delayed. My making the purchase was the Princess’ idea.” “I have the DEED right here!” Horshiz held out a blue scrolled edge document. Warrin’s battle trained reflexes snatched it faster that Horshiz could pull it back. His eyebrows rose at what he saw. In a saccharine voice he asked, “Where is the original? This is a Chancery Copy and it has been altered. The Royal Seal is a copy, not an original, as required by Crowns Law.” “That is a trivial detail! Pay the past due rent and penalties or be evicted at once!” Horshiz demanded. Sweetie’s voice caught Warrin’s attention. “Keep him talking love of mine. I see some very interesting things in this file on his desk!” Warrin grinned like a shark seeing a helpless swimmer. “When Princess Luna’s personal property deed was so severely delayed in transfer, I wrote to her.” He held up his envelope with the seal of the Royal Road Chancery Court on it. He read, “Dear Master Sargent (Ret.) Warrin: It is with great pleasure that I enclose your latest Royal Road Fast Post Commendation for assistance in the recent Dappleton Grist Mill dam failure. “In spite of your Retirement from our Postal Service, your heroic over flight in thunderstorm weather and precise damage assessments made all of the difference for some hundreds of our subjects. “In response to your request for an audit of the title problem concerning the Royalmont Chateau, I have disturbing news. The Title Deed was sent to the Everfree Town branch of Equestrian National Bank to have the deed transfer to you notarized and the transfer registered. “Celestia and I jointly agreed, after the Dappleton disaster, to gift the Chateau to you for your many services to our Realm. Along with the deed, all needful fees and a full refund of all the monies that you have paid were sent to the Bank. “The deed, fees and refund were directly stolen. A Royal Audit has shown other irregularities concerning your accounts at the Everfree EQNB. Among these, your retirement payments from both Our Army and the Royal Road Post System have subverted. The direct golden transfers on the Royal Treasury are being made to Everfree EQNB. They are issuing DRAFTS, which they fail to pay until thirty days have passed, giving them unlawful access to the use of your honorable retirement funds. “The whole scheme has been directly traced to General Morrgripe of Fort Everfree, who appears to have a grudge against you concerning how your took your Muster Out. Something about losing a bet. “I may add that due to My personal friendship, stemming from your heroic shielding of my person with your body during a surprise attack by Prance forces, it was my request that you be kept in our Royal Armored Pegassi. However, in the end, such decisions do properly belong to the Base Commander. Then Colonel Morrgripe ordered you Mustered Out. “I will never forget that you lost your right wing tip when protecting me during the Third Prance Incursion. “Both General Morrgripe and Branch Vice President Horshiz have been summoned to Our Royal Court to answer charges Under Our Royal Wing, concerning the theft of My personal property and gift. They must also face the subversion of our Royal Retirement System. “Please find enclosed a fully transferred Title Deed formally Sealed by both my sister Celestia and I. This Deed supersedes any previous documents and is already Registered in all of the appropriate Courts of Law. “I remain your loyal friend, Princess Luna.” While Warrin was reading, he noticed with amusement that he could, just barely, see Sweetie. She was laying her hoof on documents from the file on Horshiz’s desk. Like when she picked up his mail at home, the documents faded slowly away while Sweetie grinned. For his ears alone, she said, “We called them Sharing Associations when I was alive. Losing needed documents is still a favorite ploy, I see. He is losing some that he will wish that he still had!” Warrin grinned even more widely. He held up his copy of the Chateau’s deed. “You are effectively dead, except that you will be working on the Royal Roads! This one is ALREADY registered by the direct order of BOTH Princesses. “I was coming to let you know that both the payment by draft and the Deed issues had been taken care of. I was going to let you off the hook on all of this and shaft General Morrgripe, whom I do detest. “Unfortunately, you just had to try to extort a rent from me for a property that I own outright as a Royal gift.” Sweetie strolled through Horshiz’s desk and laid her hoof just above Warrin’s lap. A number of documents faded into existence in his lap. She hugged him, which felt like being surrounded by the softest of feathers. Whispering in Warrin’s ear, she said, “Come, my love, let us go to our home and leave this pony to his fate.” Agreeing, Warrin stood, folding the documents into his shoulder pouch. He turned to the stunned Horshiz, “I would love to see you try to claim either rent or eviction. The first thing that the court will do is look to see who owns the property. The Registry will show that it is ME. That will make you prima facie guilty of fraud. You know it, too. “A pleasant evening to you.” He stopped by the Police Station and delivered the documents that Sweetie had purloined. He explained, “These are part of the evidence in a case Under the Royal Wing.” He produced his letter from Princess Luna. The desk pony checked his Wants, Warrants, and Summonses file to confirm the Royal Summons and took the documents, saying, “I will see to getting these forwarded to the Royal Road Chancery Court.” Shaking his head in disbelief he added, “Stealing from Princess Luna? Not a wise thing to do!” Warrin’s flight home to the Chateau was in no way hindered by Sweetie getting in front of him and flirting her tail in his face from time to time. ~THE END~ > VIGNETTE AT A HAUNTED MANSION PARTY > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The moon outside was just past full, filling the party room with its soft effulgence.  Such pale light suppressed color, rather than enhancing it.  The assorted party goers were visible only as shades of gray. Absolutely perfect for a Nightmare Night party. Standing by herself, near the table laden with cobwebbed snacks was a lovely mare who was new to me.  I drifted through the throng (actually there were only about ten of us there), to her side. I smiled, though that is unsettling to some, and asked her, “So, who are you and what brings you here to the Haunted Manse?” She startled just a little when I spoke.  Common enough among the new arrivals.  Her brow wrinkled prettily as she thought.  “I am Nemmie.  I am not sure how I got here, really.  I mean, I went to the old Crawfeather Mansion on a bet.  You know, the usual, ‘Bet that you can’t spend the whole Nightmare Night in the haunted ruin of Crafeather.’  That bet.” I took a bottle and poured her a mug.  Mist flowed from the bottle and into the mug, which sort of overflowed with the mist. She took the mug, admiring the effect.  “Lovely.  Is it safe to drink?” I nodded. “It is safe.  Drink up.  So, you arrived here how long ago?” “It will sound silly, but I am not sure.  I would have thought that it would be coming on daylight soon but it looks just as dark as when I got here.” Gesturing at the old Grandfather clock with its dead still pendulum, I suggested, “Take a look at the clock.” She turned her head to the clock.  The hands swept silently about the face and stopped at 11:47.  “That is odd.  Why did it stop there?” I took my turn staring at the clock.  The silent hands swept about to 1:36. We were interrupted by several pale, nearly invisible, yellow lights held by indistinct forms that passed through the room.  The far door creaked a bit on its hinges and they were gone. I returned to my question, “So, why did you decide to stay here?” Troubled, she replied, “I never decided to stay here.  My brother Smallgreed dared me to spend the night in the haunted mansion on Nightmare Night.  That’s all.” “I see. Tell me, what would he gain by your absence?” Her eyes widened.  “Father’s will!  They are reading it on the second!” She put a dainty hoof to the back of her head.  The blood looked black in the pale moonlight.  Realization dawned. In a sick voice, she asked, “What now?  Do I just haunt this place?” The door creaked again and the pale lights started into the large room.  She pointed and asked, “What are those?” I replied, “Candles in the hooves of the living.  Do you recognize any of them?” Rage giving her clear focus, she screamed, “MURDERER!”  The word started low, almost bone shakingly low, and rose to an ear piercing shriek! I gave Chance and Canter the high sign.  Doors slammed shut!  The candles all went out!  Perhaps Luna was helping us because the Moon went behind a cloud, plunging the place into total darkness! The screams of the living were music to my ears! Nemmie, Smallgreed’s sis, was having so much fun! Of course the town Police Ponies were drawn by the bloodcurdling screams. Being nothing if not civic minded, Chance and Canter let the doors open for them. The police removed the horrified and shivering Smallgreed, his two accomplices, and Nemmie’s corpse. > THE EMPTY GRAVE > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was stormy, with wind and rain.  The waning moon came and went through the racing wrack of low clouds, giving little of its ghastly light to the scene. Moss hung trees shuddered and waived in the wind, rain making a continuous splattering from bare branches and boles.  It splattered off of the couple digging a hole in the sodden earth, not far from the crossroads.  She wore a checkered scarf against the bitter chill of wind. The pony with her shook his coat, sending a spray of water to join the gale swept sheets of rain.  “Tell me again, Mam, why we are disturbing this grave?  I mean, they put ponies in crossroads graves for a reason, usually.” She nodded calmly and replied, “True enough.  The Lord of Cragenmare has decreed crossroads burial for suicides and witches.  This is the grave of a witch.  I know, um, KNEW her and she was basically a good sort.  She did not do curses or cause harm to any.  She worked healings, assisted with plentiful crops and to the benefit of local herds and flocks.” As he continued to heave clods of soil from the deepening hole, he demanded truculently, “If she did so much good, how did she wind up here, in a crossroads grave?” She glared covertly at him as she shook the thick soil from her spade and replied, “Like many who followed her ways, she was a free spirited mare.  She would not follow in any stallion’s herd, preferring to mate with whom she willed.” Lifting out another spadeful, he grunted disdainfully, “A Whorse!” Sharply, she retorted, “Nay!  If she fancied a stallion, she let him have her with no cost or charge!  That was not enough for some stallion who tried to make her his mare!  When she refused him, he complained of her witchcraft to the Lord of Cragenmare! “As she was being hanged, he taunted her that if he could not have her, she would have none!  For the only time in her life, she pronounced upon him a curse!” Angrily driving his spade into the wet clay, he snapped, “Twasn’t just him she cursed!  All over Cragenmare, orchards and fields are suffering! Crops are poor.  Ponies are suffering coughs and agues!  Tell me that isn’t a curse!” Smiling sadly, as her shovel scraped on the coffin below them, she replied, “You have made a most common error.  You have confused the absence of a blessing for a curse.  All that you say is true.  It was her work that made all go so well.  Now that she is slain out of jealousy, all suffer from the lack of her goodness and care.  That is all.” He frowned as he thought over what he was told.  Together, they finished clearing the coffin’s lid.  He stuck a shovel into the joint and pried the top from the coffin.  While he was opening the coffin, she pulled the checkered scarf from her neck. He looked up, confused.  “Where is the body?  This coffin is empty!” Lightning flared, showing him the scar from the strangling noose that had ended her mortal life!  She whipped the scarf about his neck and heaved it tight!  No matter how he struggled, the scarf continued to choke him. Sight and vision fading, he heard, “Never fear, that coffin will not be empty for long! “The next time that you betray a witch, be sure that she isn’t a real one!” > GNAWED EVEN > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Haytwist and her three fiends, um, make that, her three fRiends were laying wait in their chosen ambush spot. Sopar hissed quietly, “I love Nightmare Night! All that we are going to need is a good net!” Moana agreed, “And the right place! Wouldn't do to catch the wrong one!” Bale pointed excitedly! “Look at the turf! It is starting! This was a great call, Haytwist!” Haytwist took her end of their net in her mouth, saying, “I was pretty sure that this one would pay off! I visited here for the last several days. I could smell it down there! I nearly watered the whole place by drooling so much!” While they watched with rapt attention, a decaying hoof pierced up through the sod! It was followed by a head, equally rotting. Another hoof shoved through! With a heave accompanied by some scrabbling, the rest of the rotting zombie rose from its grave in the Ponyville cemetery! The four charged forward! They encircled the undead creature with the net! Bucking the monster from its hooves, they finished entwining it in the meshes! Sopar slammed it in the head with a stout club! It took three powerful strokes before the unponylike glow faded from its moldering eyesockets and the undead truly became dead! The four dragged the now quiescent corpse into the bushes. They lifted it to a portable table and removed their net to use again, some other time. Bale picked up a plate and big carving knife. “What would you like, Haytwist? This was your idea, so you get the choice cut!” Haytwist's smile showing very unponylike fangs, she replied, “Shoulder slices for me!” Soon the glade was filled with the festive sounds of Ponyville's secret ghouls happily feasting on the carcass of the fallen zombie! > CRACKING THE CODE > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Big Dome sat quietly on a bench in the Poneville Cemetery.  It was not really his name, that was Norbert.  As bad as Big Dome was, as a nickname, he preferred it to Norbert! He was sitting in one of his favorite shady spots, surrounded, not only by the graves of those who had passed but also by the tombs and mausoleums of prominent pony families. It was quiet.  That helped his concentration.  He was working on the infamously difficult problem of Baratted’s Last Code.  It dated back to the last days of the ancient Nightmare Wars.  It had never been solved.  Even Princess Luna, Baratted’s closest friend and confidant, and a mathemagical genius in her own right, swore that she did not know what the code was about or how to solve it. Pony scholars had wasted an enormous amount of time and effort to deciphering Baratted’s Last Code, all to no avail.  Big Dome did not really expect to solve the problem either, but trying was a fine mental exercise. In his lap was a thick binder book of his notes and previous, failed attempts at a solution. He turned to the beginning of his binder and his copy of the original text of the code.  Written in Old Middle Goat, it said: I, Baratted the Goat have solved the problem of Life and Death. Presented here is the solution in a code form.  The Non Equine Mathemagical proof is elegant and simple but too large to fit on the few pages left to me.” That was followed by the single short paragraph of coded Mathemagic that had driven scholars quietly berserk ever since. The passage ended, “Unicorns are coming.  I must go to assist in the defense of Our Dark Alicorn and the Fortress of Nightmare.” Big Dome chuckled at the notion that the proof of such a complex code could be elegantly simple.  If it was, why had some scholar or enthusiast like himself already found it?  Truly, in over 2000 years somepony would surely have found it, if it was elegantly simple! Sighing, he was closing his binder when three pages of his older work came loose and fell fluttering to the ground.  Each was part of a different failed try at cracking the code. Big Dome was about to just put them under the covers of the binder so that he could put them back into their proper places later.  His eye was caught by a natural transition from the first page to the third! Excitedly, he sat and started a new sheet!  He was running short of inspiration and daylight by the time that he had filled in the last bit.  Nightmare Night was nearly here! He paused to light a candle so that he could read over his inspiration in the fading angry red light of the last of sunset!  Like several other tries of his, this progression of expressions appeared to actually make sense! Only one way to be sure.  He started to apply the expressions to the infamous Last Code!  His pen simply flew across the page as the ancient puzzle became clear before his eyes! He had to do it!  He read it aloud in its original Old Middle Goat!  The Mathemagical sentences simply rolled off his tongue with a life of their own! As he finished, he became aware of other sounds.  The rattle of locks and chains falling open and free of old tombs and mausoleums!  The creaking of time worn hinges and the rough scraping slide of stone tomb lids sliding free!  Old liches, long dead ponies, were arising or stepping forth from vaults and sepulchers! Big Dome stared in horror at his pages!  How could he have been so foolish as to DE-CRYPT the code of Life and Death in a graveyard on Nightmare Night? > REPOSSESSED > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- His office was warm, regardless of how cold it might be for those who worked for him at his lumberyard.  He had a stove with a cheery fire in it.  Derpy, the mail pony, had just left to the jangling of the door chime. Sawnax snorted as he read the red bordered letter that Derpy had just delivered. “Dratted Creditors!  How are they gonna try to collect, anyway!?” He wadded the paper like material of the letter and tossed it into his office stove.  The fire went a ghastly greenish blue, flaring a long tongue of that flame back to his desk! There, on the blotter, lay the red bordered letter.  There was not a crease or scorch mark on it! The big brown earth pony, with the angry red scar on his left shoulder, ripped the offending letter into small fragments and took them out to the muddy lumberyard where his employee, Leroy, was loading a cart with timbers for someone’s job. He sourly saw that the cart could not even be shorted a few timbers. Constable Crager and the pony picking up the load were there and taking no nonsense. He just dropped the fragments of the letter into the mud and trod them into mush! He was hardly surprised when he found the unblemished letter of collection on his desk, waiting for him. He tried to just cover the letter with ink.  The ink rolled off, leaving the letter unmarred. He glowered at it and read it again, for the last time.  It said: Dear Sawnax: When you were nine years of age, your soul and body were possessed by the Underworld being, CLAFICUS. At that time, through the intervention of the leader of the Assembly of Celestia and Luna, Reverend Smallflower, CLAFICUS relinquished his possession of you, on the condition that you would lead a good life thereafter. As you have made no effort to be or do any good thing since then, in spite of the many opportunities given you, CLAFICUS has petitioned for and been granted your soul to be his for all time to come. This notice is a courtesy of the Underworld, to allow you two hours to set your affairs in order before CLAFICUS sunders your soul from your body, which will result in your immediate death as mortals understand such things. Sincerely, THE COUNCIL OF THE THREE His office door chimes jangled as the door opened.  There was nopony there!  A shadow fell across his desk with no pony to cast it!  He felt a ghastly rending in his chest! Leroy found the lifeless body of Sawnax in his office a little later. ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Sawnax awoke slowly and painfully on a hard slab.  Looking about him with eyes still blurry, he saw a few other ponies laying on similar slabs. He nearly fell, trying to get off of the slab.  Every movement felt like his muscles and joints were on fire! He finally did get off the mortuary slab and onto his hooves.  There was a letter sitting on the slab where he had been.  His vision getting better by the moment, Sawnax made an agonizing reach and got the letter in hoof.  Opened, it said: QUITCLAIM I, CLAFICUS, hereby renounce all claim to the soul of the pony Sawnax. What I received was a thing withered, misshapen and of no value at all.  I have hereby returned it to its vessel to prevent it from tarnishing and reducing the value of other souls in my possession. CLAFICUS > NIGHTMARE BLESSING > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Red Romper hated his name.  Because he hated his name, he hated almost everypony else.  THEY got fun names or cool names.  He did not even need to hear a pony’s name to know that it was better than his! That young mare over across the park was a perfect example!  She was a pretty light blue with a dark blue mane and tail.  Was she content with the beauty that she was given?  Not a all! She was tricked in black shiny satins and black fine net!  She had a collar with big, forbidding spikes and cuffs on her canons, just up from black shiny shoes.  The cuffs had spikes too.  She had a black beret and a necklace of dark metal with a dark star in a circle pendant.  She wore none of it like it was a costume. Muttering darkly to himself, he growled, “Another of those dratted fake New Moon witch ponies!  She ought to get honest work! Instead, they all freeload, beg and try to imitate that Non-Equine magic like that crazy goat up on the mountain! He watched as the pony across the park took her pendant in hoof, then moved the same hoof around on the ground like she was drawing something.  Then she just sat and waited, looking for a handout, no doubt. It was not long before a brown stallion in a business collar and tie strode self importantly up the path past her.  He paused long enough to spurn dirt from the pathway in her direction.  She bowed her head and, as soon as the pony left, she popped both front hooves together. She then got up and strolled along the same path as the business pony. Red could not see for sure through the park’s bushes but it looked like she picked something up.  As soon as she did whatever it was, she changed course.  Crossing the park, she went straight to Caramel Treat’s Sweets.  There she and that dumb palomino waitress joked back and forth a bit.  The waitress went in and soon emerged with a veritable feast on a big tray! It was too much!  Red charged across the cobbled street, demanding loudly, “Gimme some of that!  You don’t, I gonna call the police! I seen you steal it from that brown pony!” Caramel Treat, the well known werewolf and restaurateur, was out the door like a shot!  She shouldered her huge gray and black wolf’s body between Red and her dark dressed customer. Turning her immense fanged head to Red, she stated flatly, “We mean that sign!  Either back up what you have just accused loudly enough to draw Constable Crager from his post on the other side of the park or leave.” She pointed with a furry forefoot at a sign famous throughout Equestria. It showed a fine portrait of Caramel Treat in her present form of an Everfree Ridgeback wolf on one side and her mate Fangrin, also in wolf form, on the other.  Between them were the words: If you have any problem with any customer of ours for kind, race, species, color, creed or any other reason at all, PLEASE LEAVE.  WE BITE! - - HARD! Before he could turn away, the official voice of Constable Crager demanded, “Red, if you cannot prove what you just shouted, I shall have to arrest you for disturbing the peace and attempted extortion.” Red wilted a bit but tried to bull through.  “I was over in the park. I seen that witchy pony there do some evil spell.  Then a brown pony with a tie come through the park.  She chase him down in them bushes and robbed him!  She come straight here to spend her loot!” Constable Crager responded, “If that is what you claim, then I have no choice … ” Red gloated, “Now you are in for it, Witchy!” Constable Crager finished what he was saying as if not interrupted, “But to place you under arrest.  Please do not make me use force!” “ARREST ME!?  If she didn’t steal it, where did she get all that money?” A spare white pegasus with a flat black hat joined the group, suggesting, “Perhaps, Red, if you had asked that politely of Penny, you would not be in trouble again.” Turning to the black dressed mare, now identified as Penny, he added, “I got your most welcome Magic Net call, my dear.  I left the Assembly in good hooves and came at once.” Penny gestured to the table.  “Please sit, Reverend Smallflower.  I know that you would try to order the cheapest things, so I already ordered for you! “I have more than just a nice meal for you.  Please take these five golden bits for your fund to feed the needy.” Reverend Smallflower gathered the coins with a happy smile.  “In the name of the Twins, Penny, I thank you.” As he sat to eat, he suggested, “Before the good Constable removes Red, there, perhaps you could share the origin of this money that you are so generously sharing.” Penny nodded and swallowed a mouthful of clover steak with mushroom gravy before explaining, “I was mindful of your excellent sermon on how the Twins share the sky.  I noticed that the crescent of the Night Mare was in the sky along with her sister of the Day, so I prayed for a blessed day from them both.  I sat to meditate. “That brown pony mistook my sitting in meditation for begging and spurned some dust of the path at me.  That made me angry so, following your excellent advice, I took a moment to calm myself before following him to request an apology. “Being so far behind him, let me notice something blue in the brush at the path edge.  It was a cheap blue cotton coin purse.  It had no identification in it. “I realized that my prayer for a blessing was answered.  I came here first to count the money.  There was plenty so I ordered this meal and paid back my tab for times that Caramel and Fangrin have fed me. “I called you to come share in the blessing.  That includes the money for feeding the needy, like you fed me so many times.” As Constable Crager was urging Red away, he snapped, “All this talk of sharing, but you got none for me!” Penny turned calm eyes to him and replied, “That is true.  You have not shared friendship like these good ponies and others have.  What you give is what you get back.” Reverend Smallflower observed, “I see that you have kept a goodly portion for your own use, Penny.  If I may make so bold, what use will you make of it?” Penny gave Peanut Brittle a small hug.  “Peanut told me how much help the goats in the Assembly’s congregation were in helping her to find and fix up a good place.  I think that I have enough for rent at least for this winter.  I should have enough for a good Foal Bowl for this Nightmare Night too. “That will let me honor the Night Mare and share even more goodness.” > DEAD EASY > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This Nightmare Night had been brisk but not too busy.  The famous Sweet Spot foal bowl was nearly half gone.  The little cream colored unicorn who ran the place was cheerful as he counted up the day’s earnings.  In spite of all the treats that Roe had given out, the day was still a profitable one. There had been the usual early rush of ponies getting last minute foal treats for parties or to hand out when evening brought out the youngsters in costumes, chanting the traditional Nightmare Night chant. The door bells chimed on their spring as the door opened to admit three ponies that he was especially waiting for.  The magenta mare, Molly, who, despite the Vampony costume, had a wedding bracelet on her left foreleg that was identical to the one on Roe’s left foreleg.  Her foals, Sis, a small mare in a Thestral costume, who did not like her full name of Sisterca, and Mort, in a wolf costume, was getting big for his age, gamboled into the shop! Since last Hearthwarming, they were his family.  They had taken him to their hearts, knowing exactly who, and more importantly, WHAT he was. He had taken them into his heart too.  Being aware of what could happen, they had wished that he not grant them any more wishes. They ran a prosperous woodlot and Roe ran his famous store, the SWEET SPOT.  They still maintained separate businesses during the day. After closing, they became a happy family. Mort, ever eager, demanded, “Did they really come?  Are we going to have a Nightmare Night party with them?” Molly expertly corralled her offspring and reminded him, “Say the chant! That is house rules in the Sweet Spot!” The three of them chanted sweetly, “Nightmare Night!  What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” Roe indulgently hoofed over the big Foal Bowl and they all chose favorite sweets.  He told Mort, “To answer your most eager question, YES. They came.  They are all waiting in the back for you to show up.  The party will start as soon as I close up the shop!” The spring bells jangled harshly as the door was shoved open by a red unicorn!  He demanded, “Just hoof over your cash!  While you are at it, gimme the damn foal bowl, too!” I looked up and retorted, “NO, Ferd Foul!  I know you and you can’t get away with this!” Ferd’s magic grabbed Molly, my wife!!  Mort and Sis, sprinted towards the door!  He was gloating, “Right, you little asses!  Get out while you can …”  He never finished his insult.  Sis grabbed one forehoof and Mort a hind one.  They both pulled at once!  Ferd hit the floor like a tonne of rotten potatoes!  Jolted, he released my Molly!  Instead of running, she sat on his neck, holding him down flat! My own magic was gripping his horn, preventing him from using it. Tightly, I told him, “Ferd, if you wanted money from Easy Street, robbing THIS place is the wrong way to get it! “Why didn’t you just check the Equestrian Lottery poster to see if that ticket you bought from me two days ago won something?” Humiliated at being taken down by foals, Ferd snorted, “I wish!  That would be dead easy money!” I spoke far too mildly, “Say that wish again, Ferd, ol’ pony?” He thoughtlessly replied, “I wish the Lottery would give me dead easy money!” I saw Sis put a hoof to her mouth as she realized what was happening. Molly figured it out too.  She got off his neck after I nodded to her. Growling at all of us, Ferd rummaged in his saddlebag and pulled out a rumpled lottery ticket.  As he compared it to the Lottery poster, his eyes bugged out! “I done WON!  Dead easy money!” A lovely pale gray mare put her head through the door to my living quarters in the back.  She gave Ferd a measuring look and then politely asked, “Did I hear somepony say DEAD easy?” Ferd was chuckling as he held up the ticket!  I won!  I am rich and it was dead easy!  Don’t gotta rob Roe for easy money now!” The mare seemed to be sort of settling herself.  Her lunge across the shop was like lightning!  She gripped Ferd about the neck and her big snake-like tail that started where her hindquarters should be, pulled into the shop, whipping about him and squeezing! Two ponies stopped at the door until I invited, “Come on in, the more the merrier!” Both Vamprilla and Charley leaped into the room!  Exerting the great strength of the vampire, they picked up both the lamia and Ferd, carrying them both into the back! As they did, Vamprilla suggested, “Don’t kill him yet, Flowering Ash. It is far easier to drink from one whose heart is still beating!  He will make great refreshments for the party!” Mort and Sis were both watching with eyes like saucers!  Sis broke the silence.  “Wow!  Dad, you have some really neat friends!” That made me feel really good.  Their birth father was killed when a cart wheel broke and it rolled over on him. Molly was just a tad green around the gills, as they say, but gamely pointed out, “Let’s go on in, they are holding up the party for us!” Not being one to avoid a good party, I picked up the ticket that Ferd had dropped and put it in my saddle bag before going into the back.  As I passed through the door to the party, where all illusions were dispelled, my two branching antlers appeared, my coat went to a nice tan with some white spots and my hooves became the split hooves of a wish granting roe deer. It was great to see the small zombies from the orphan’s corner of the graveyard having fun playing with Mort and Sis. I think that some would call my guests monsters.  Not me.  Not my really wonderful family. > BONNIE BONES > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Junea turned her mostly skeletal head to her mate Zom. She sighed. “I know that she was abandoned in the graveyard on Nightmare Night, dear. Do you really think that it is a good idea to take her in? I mean, raising ones like that is far from easy.” Zom watched the young filly playing friskily among the tree shadows cast by the bright moon overhead. He nodded. “What you say is true, Junea, my love. Still, if we do not, who will? At least until the snow flies, she can eat the grass about the graves. We can help her to gather and make hay of as much as we can. It may be enough to get her past the winter.” Junea nodded in her turn. “It feels strange to share our crypt with one of living blood. I have to admit that I do like it. Bonnie Bones is the filly that we never had.” Through long frigid winter nights, their crypt was cheered up by the presence of the black maned and tailed Bonnie Bones. Junea and Zom had a difficult time, at first, remembering games and other entertainments for their adopted filly. Other members of the community visited, too. Young Bonnie learned many things. Her adopted parents watched indulgently as she practiced what she had learned from the many ghosts. She faded from sight and returned. Her naturally pale fur, a cloudy white, was a real help in the disappearing. She was still having difficulty in passing through solid objects as spring rolled around. Junea, watching Bonnie drift, ghost-like, up to nibble aspen buds in the moonlight smiled as gently as her nearly skeletal face allowed. “It stills my heart with joy to see our Bonnie now. Zom, you were so right. It has been worth all of the trouble that raising her has been. “There are so few books here in the graveyard, but our Bonnie has learned them all. She reads better than I used to when I was under Celestia's Sun. Teaching her has let me remember so many good things.” Zom leaned up against his mate and replied thoughtfully, “You are not alone, Stillness of My Heart. Many here feel the same. It is as if our little Bonnie Bones was connecting us back to the living. And not in a bad way. “I remember how she drove off those vandals that wanted to topple gravestones! She got her cutie mark on that Nightmare Night!” Zom chuckled, “I had almost forgotten about them until that happened! The VANDALS called the police ponies into the graveyard, saying that there was a monster loose!” Junea sat, chuckling herself. “She told me later that our vamponies taught her how to be strong! The lamia, Flowering Ash, taught her some tricks as well! Watching those vandals go flying over the wall without wings was so much fun!” A few nights later, Bonnie, tired from playing with the zombies and ghosts of foals, settled under a tree for a quick nap. She awoke to a hoof tapping her peremptorily. “What are you doing here, young mare?” demanded the uniformed pony. Confused by the brightness and the presence of a living pony where, in her experience, none had the right to be, she replied sleepily, “I was taking a nap. Sorry if it bothers you. I'll just go home. It isn't far.” He took her in his unicorn magic, snapping, “You don't get out of going to school that easily, you filly. You can go home after school lets out!” He carried her out of the cemetery and strode off to a strange building a distance away. Bonnie struggled at first but settled down as soon as she saw that it was of no avail. The truant officer set her down in Miss Cherrilee's office. “Miss Cherrilee, I have caught one of your students who has either fled the school or not come at all.” Taking one look at Bonnie, Miss Cherrilee replied mildly, “She is not a student of the school. We will have to enroll her and check the level of her education to decide what class she should be in. Where did you find her?” The uniformed pony replied, “I found her sleeping under a tree in the graveyard, over in the old section, close to the Everfree Forest.” Miss Cherrilee frowned, “I only know of a few families that live in the Everfree. None that I know of live in that part of the forest.” Turning to Bonnie, Miss Cherrilee asked kindly, “What is your name, dear?” Sullenly, she replied, “Bonnie. Bonnie Bones.” A jeering voice from the door to the hallway called out, “BONES! No wonder she has a tombstone for a cutie mark!” Miss Cherrilee snapped at the blue furred, green maned colt, “Morgripe! That is QUITE enough! You are supposed to be out to recess. GO.” Bonnie volunteered, “THAT is why I like Night . . . ponies. Day ponies like him are mean! He was one of those who tried to vandalize the graveyard Nightmare Night last.” “I see,” mused Miss Cherrilee. “Tell me, who are your parents?” On her guard, Bonnie looked away. “Don't know and don't want to know! I was abandoned, um, near the Everfree.” Miss Cherrilee made a note. “Bonnie, do you follow a particular belief, like Celestia, Luna or the Assembly of the Twins?” “The Night Mare.” As Miss Cherrilee started to write Luna, a gray hoof stopped her. Bonnie stated flatly, “Not Princess Luna. The Night Mare.” Miss Cherrilee nodded to herself and corrected her note. She observed, “Not only can you read, you could read what I was writing upside down. How well can you read?” “I do like to read. I can read almost anything.” Miss Cherrilee pointed as she said, “I believe that I have a book that you would enjoy, Bonnie. It is up on that top shelf.” Bonnie appeared to barely lift her gaze and returned to looking at Miss Cherrilee as she replied, “You mean, Elane, Vampony of Canterlot? That does sound good.” Miss Cherrilee's ears shot forward in interest. “You saw that so quickly?” She offered, “I will go get a step stool so that we can get it!” When she returned to the room with the stool, she found Bonnie examining the book reverently. “I love poems. This whole book is one long poem and it is about a vampony, too.” Miss Cherrilee blinked a few times. “You can use that stunted horn far better than any would guess.” Bonnie looked back wide eyed and retorted, “Really?” Miss Cherrilee made up her mind about this student and suggested, “Let's put you into a class.” Miss Cherrilee led her to a room of students a bit older than Bonnie appeared to be. “Pardon, Mister Colter, but I have a new student for your class. Class, this is Bonnie Bones. “Bonnie, tell the class a little about yourself.” Before Bonnie could say anything, a blue furred, green maned colt sneered, “She come from the CEMETERY! Look like a sick ghost and BONE-IE got a tombstone for a cutie mark!” Bonnie just started for an empty desk. Mister Colter spoke sternly, “You did not introduce yourself, young filly!” Bonnie gave him an embarrassingly long look up and down before replying, “Miss Cherrilee gave my name and YOU allowed that cemetery vandal to complete my introduction for me, including getting my name wrong. “He must be a worthless student, if he can't hear and learn better than that!” Miss Cherrilee put a hoof over her mouth to stifle a chuckle. Mister Colter reddened and snapped, “I shall give you a demerit for insolence!” Bonnie promptly retorted as she sat, “Right! I get a demerit for being correct. No demerit for the loudmouth graveyard vandal who interrupts a new student AND tells the police ponies wild tales of monsters in the graveyard!” Laying his ears back in outrage, Morgripe yelled, “That wasn't no story! That thing bucked all three of us right over the cemetery wall! I done lost my dad's good prybar and a sledge hammer!” Bonnie replied serenely, “And you have just confessed to both trespass of the closed graveyard and intending vandalism of gravestones or other monuments. There is no other explanation for having a prybar and sledge in a closed and locked graveyard after dark on Nightmare Night.” Suddenly Morgripe looked like he might want to slink out of the classroom. Miss Cherrilee's gaze hardened like quicksetting concrete! She said softly, but with steel under it, “Mister Colter, I wish to speak with you privately, during the luncheon recess!” Mister Colter stiffened and turned back to the chalk board and said, “Students, open your arithmetic books to page fifty four. Today's lesson is multiplication.” When the lunch recess finally came, Bonnie did not rush out like the other students did. She stopped by the office and asked politely, “Miss Cherrilee, may I borrow Elane, Vampony of Canterlot?” Bonnie did not go to the cafeteria. After grazing quietly in the shade of a few trees, she settled down and began to read Elane avidly. Shortly, Morgripe and two cronies approached. The two went past her as if they were going somewhere else. Morgripe stomped straight up to her. Bonnie stood, facing him. While his gang sneaked up from behind, Morgripe growled, “You got me into a lot of trouble, BONE-IE!” Utterly calm, she replied, “No. You got yourself into trouble by being rude and loud.” Miss Cherrilee joined Miss Whinly on playground duty. They were watching the developing scene carefully. Miss Whinly asked, “How did it go with Mister Colter?” Miss Cherrilee replied grimly, “Not well. I asked him about his favoritism to the colts in the class and he denied that there was any. There was more, too. I pointed out that he allowed Morgripe to interrupt and make fun of the new filly, Bonnie, and then gave HER a demerit for standing up for herself.” Miss Whinly was about to start over to the developing playground situation. Miss Cherrilee put a hoof on her shoulder and suggested, “Not fast, Whin. When I went to get a step stool to get Elane down from that high shelf, I saw something. “I was bringing the stool in. I would swear that I saw Bonnie floating down with the book. I waited a moment for her to be settled and looking at it before I went in.” Whinly responded, “Unicorns can't fly. You know that.” At that moment, the two toughs sneaking up on Bonnie pulled out a pair of shears. Stepping up to grab her tail, they were met by a double buck! Both went flying tails over head to land in a heap! At the same moment, Bonnie switched ends almost faster than could be seen! A second powerhouse of a buck sent Morgripe flying! Stepping over to the fallen Morgripe, Bonnie grabbed his mane and dragged him, like a cat carrying a kitten! She dropped him across his stunned accomplices. Leaning close, she snarled, “Some ponies DO NOT LIKE being attacked, THREE on ONE! They do not like being embarrassed or having their names made fun of either! My name is BONNIE BONES! If you can't say it right, DON'T SAY IT.” She turned her tail to them and let out a loud fart. Carefully gathering up her book, she walked over to Miss Cherrilee and asked politely, “Have you any quiet place to read? I only got a few pages into the book before I was interrupted.” Miss Cherrilee smiled and pointed to the school building. “Go to my office. Miss Graymane, the secretary, will let you read in peace until the bell rings for classes to begin again.” She escorted Bonnie into the building, leaving the playground in Miss Whinly's experienced hooves. Aside from the almost daily chore of having to discipline Morgripe and his buddies, Miss Cherrilee's day went quietly. When the bell rang for the day's end, there was the usual near riot of students escaping to freedom! Miss Cherrilee looked up in surprise because she had not heard her office door open. Bonnie was before her, clutching the copy of Elane, Vampony of Canterlot. She quietly asked, “I really love this book, Miss Cherrilee. I could not get even a quarter of the way through it. May I please borrow it? I promise that I will return it when I am done with it.” Miss Cherrilee looked up from the thick file of disciplinary notes on Morgripe and his buddies to smile and say, “Of course you may, Bonnie, my dear.” Bonnie left as silently as she had come. Miss Cherrilee glance up just in time to see Bonnie's tail going through the door. She shook her head in disbelief. “I could swear that she just walked through that door without opening it! “I wonder if Truant Officer Grabbem has any idea who he picked up in the Ponyville Cemetery.” Miss Cherrilee was disappointed when Bonnie did not return to school the next day or any day after. It was Nightmare Night. The door lantern of Miss Cherrilee's cottage was lit and she had a nice big smiling jack o' lantern sitting out in front, on her porch. There was a knock at her door. She opened it on a lone filly. She was mist colored and had a black mane and tail that all went perfectly with her cute witch costume. She chanted, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give me something sweet to bite!” She took a treat from Miss Cherrilee's Foal Bowl and put a book into it. Smiling, she said, “I told you that I would return it. We all loved it so much that we wrote out our own copy! That is what took so long!” With that, Bonnie, in her witch costume, mounted her broom and sailed off into Ponyville's Nightmare Night sky, heading toward the Cemetery. > CRAGENMARE > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was not a dark and stormy night.  It was nice, with barely any bite of chill.  The Moon shone down indulgently on the usual swarms of Nightmare Nighting foals.  The few thin clouds reflected the light of the moon, which lent them either glowing silver or darker centers with glowing silver outlines. Down on the cobbled streets of Ponyville, groups of costumed foals escorted by costumed ponies were going door to door, filling the night with their chant of, “Nightmare Night!  What a fright!  Give us something sweet to bite!” As the many loot bags filled with candy and other treats, the ponies mostly led their charges to the many assorted Nightmare Night parties. One group made its way up the crags, far out of town, following an antique road that was much fallen to disrepair.  It led to the reputedly haunted ruins of the ancient castle of Cragenmare, supposed home of the spirit of Drastin, cursed hero of Cragenmare. It was well known that Drastin had finally found his true rest, his ancient curse finally ended.  That was now centuries past but, as with any good tale, many believed the ruin to be haunted by many of the other arrogant nobles of that long past age, before Cragenmare had been made a part of the peaceful realm of Equestria, centuries before the settlement of Ponyville. Tired fillies and colts finally made it to the forbidding archway in the crumbling, moss grown wall of Cragenmare.  Everywhere that they looked, the thousand years and more since it was abandoned were apparent.  Brush and OLD trees had pried up the stone pave of the courtyard, seeking secure root hold. Though the antique doors were long fallen, the aged feasting hall was still in surprisingly good repair.  The roof of stone slate shingles had done well at keeping the worst of foul weather out, allowing the monster beams that held up the roof to cure with age, rather than rot away. Stone slates had been used to prevent pegasus dropped fire from taking hold and burning the castle.  They and the beams under them now gave a home to the nests of ages of birds. At floor level, the old central fire ring had a fire in it for the first time in who knew how long?  Its light showed trestle tables set with a plenteous meal.  A good thing altogether.  That much hiking is hungry and thirsty work! They were attended to by solicitous mares and stallions in the bardings of ancient Cragenmare.  The foals were simply told that they were from out of town. Besides the feast, there were foal games, ranging from apple ducking to throwing REAL darts with sharp points!  Ring and toss games were popular too! Finally, the last of the foals were tucked in for a well deserved rest. In the morning’s light, the foals found only their guide and the remains of their feast from last night. After breaking their fast, the youngsters followed their guide back to the woods at the edge of Ponyville.  There, he let them go to find their homes. Up in the craggy hills, ancient Cragenmare crouched on its hilltop.  Its many ghosts dreamed of the day to come when they would have done enough good to balance their ancient evils so that they could truly rest at last. > LUNA’S NIGHTMARE NIGHT > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Princess Luna was sitting on her very comfortable bed, letters strewn about her.  She was chuckling as she laid another one aside. Celestia was sitting across Luna’s chamber from her.  The work bench in front of her was littered with excellent small wood tools.  She was carefully shaving a small piece of rare wood to make an exact fit in the inlays of a Rom lyre that she was making. “Give, Luna.  What is so funny?  After that session with Lord Lairbottom, I could use a good laugh.” Sympathetically, Luna looked over to her sister and picked up the letter and began to read, My Dear Princess Luna: We of the Council of Baltimare Elders do most urgently desire that you attend our Nightmare Night Gala in your costume as Nightmare Moon.   Of course, we do not wish a true return of the most dangerous true Nightmare Moon. Sincerely, The Baltimare Council of Elders Celestia chuckled too.  Her bit of wood fitted perfectly, she used her magic to seal it into place better than any glue. “Are they ALL like that, Sis?  How many polite ways are there to say that their kind invitation makes a fine latrine wipe?” Instantly seizing a pen, Luna exclaimed, “I have to remember that one!” As she quickly scribbled her note, she grinned, “Pretty much all of them are like that.  I do have a few that I am seriously considering. None of them is from a city or town Council.” Celestia nodded, “I wish that the Rom made a regular practice of doing Nightmare Night.  The other year, at Grumpy’s Cave, was the first one in their 844 year history among us.  Now THAT was party!” Luna nodded too.  “I know, but you know why they were celebrating, that night as well as I do.  They were celebrating the recovery of Lann Dra Halit from a severe illness.” Celestia chortled as she remembered, “Oh, how upset our Protocol Ponies were when we canceled that Gala to just take off into the blue, like that!” Luna smiled fondly at the memory.  “Our Guards were none too happy, either!  I mean, a NIGHT FLIGHT to an Unsecured destination?” Celestia snorted, “At least the Rom let us cook and do other fun things! Where are you actually going to go?” Thoughtfully, Luna replied, “I am not sure, actually.  I have two that are real possibilities. “This one is from a kid, you know, a little goat.  She lost a foreleg in an accident.  She was wondering if I could help her to get around for Nightmare Night. “The other is a bit odder.  You remember Canbe, who helped the Undead monsters and chose to stay with them?” Celestia chuckled ruefully, “I do remember.  That bet cost me a whole tray of butterscotch topped donuts and twists.” Luna nodded, with a grin, happy at the memory, “Right.  Him.  He wrote asking if I would stop by their graveyard to be there for the dead foals and small monsters.” Celestia got up and gave her sister a big wing hug as she pointed out, “You could do both.  The Monster’s realm is basically timeless.  So help the young goat first and then go do the Monsters.” She sighed deeply, “And I will hold Canterlot and do Duke Hightail’s Nightmare Night Gala.”  She sighed deeply.  “The sacrifices that I make for my sweet sister.  I mean, it is YOUR holiday.  It really is all about YOU.” They both giggled. Luna did write TWO letters in reply to the many inquiries requesting her presence.  The rest she handed to Merten, her protocol pony to have official polite refusals written. Celestia looked up from fitting another piece into the intricate inlay work of the lyre that she was building to ask Luna, “How do you manage to keep the staff or even the nobles out of your personal kitchen or my work bench here? “I can’t keep them out of the one in my quarters at all.  I even found a maid trying to gather up my Rom sashes and harness to be thrown out with the trash!  I had to discipline her most severely.” Luna grinned savagely.  “Nightmares.  If any of MY staff touch what they should not, they get a week of specially tailored nightmares.” Luna looked up at a soft knock.  The servant who entered asked timidly, “Do you need anything done, Princess?” “Only the bed, its hangings and the small carpet.  Thank you, Eunice.” Eunice curtsied and set to her tasks. That evening saw Luna donning the helmet and armor from her time as the very real Nightmare Moon. One of her guard, a newly promoted baron, said in disapproval, “That is in very bad taste, Your Highness.  Remember, this holiday is to celebrate your DEFEAT and conversion from a deadly dictator to your present and meeker self.” Instead of answering the baseless charge, Luna asked the Guard Captain, “How did Nalot manage to pass his Guard handbook testing and then try to rebuke me for something that he KNOWS to be baseless?” Captain Lightning stood to attention and responded, “Ma'am!  I was wondering that myself!  It is true that most believe what he has said.  They do not question the death of 1.7 MILLION unicorns at war in the space of but ½ hour, nor connect that fact to the ease with which Nightmare Moon was defeated by the Mane Six. “That ‘defeat’ was a clear propaganda action.  Some of us who study real military history do understand. “It will be our honor to accompany you on this errand, underlining as it does, the EDICT OF EQUALITY, the highest of the land assisting one of the lowest station and injured to boot.  Will you cast upon us the guise of Thestrals of your guard?” Luna smiled, and there were fangs in her smile as she complimented, “An excellent notion, Captain Lightning!  It shall be so!” A midnight gossamer of magic from Luna’s horn left all of the Guard appearing to be Thestrals.  The whole Nightmare flight left from the Thrones Room balcony known as the Traitor’s Drop. It was not long before the whole lot of them settled to the road at the gate of Vale Farm.  They were greeted by a small nanny kid in a very silly looking deer costume.  She hobbled forward with an awkward three legged gait, her treat bag slung about her neck. Crying, she said, “You came.  You really did come!  Rastmore, the kid from next farm over said that it was just a cruel jest.” Luna lifted little Dimmla to her back with her magic and replied, “Even as Nightmare Moon, I was never that cruel.  Now let us get to Bleatin’ Hallow and get you to proper Nightmare Nighting.” They started at the edge of town, and worked their way into the town proper.  Dimmla sang the traditional chant at each door and was met by foal bowl after foal bowl.  When it was time for the party, Dimmla had getting her treats out of the foal bowls and into her bag down to an art form! 'Nightmare Moon’ and her guard did well too! The party was the usual happy riot of young, both foals and kids! Whether it was the presence of 'Nightmare Moon’ and her guard, or the acceptance that sometimes happens, not a one made any fun of Dimmla and her three legged gait.  In fact, she proved very adept at tossing rings in several games and at apple ducking, she excelled! Near midnight, the Princess took Dimmla onto her back while the awestruck partyers watched.  She and her Thestral Guard flew her back to Vale Farm. They took to the sky, bidding Vale Farm and Bleatin’ Hallow farewell. They were soon left behind.  Sooner than expected by the Guard, they began to spiral down. One of the Guard exclaimed, “How did the moon get full like this!  It was nowhere near full a few moments ago!” Their Captain observed, “Our Thestral disguises are gone too.” As she spiraled to a landing place, Luna noted, “My Nightmare Moon armor is gone too.  In this place, though it is supernatural by most accounts, is only truth.  It is always the full moon here.  Celestia voluntarily holds no sway here.  These are ponies and others forgotten by most.” The Captain nodded sagely, being a veteran of Luna’s Guard for many years, and ordered, “No matter what we see here, take no action. The Princess was most clear before we began that she would rather have no Guard along at all.” Luna alighted what would have been a pleasant clearing between what were now seen to be mausoleums, crypts, tombs and graves, all neatly tended.  Though obviously all was of great age, there was no sign of true decay anywhere.  The moss growing on the sides of crypt, monument, tomb or even simple stone grave marker was well tended and allowed for appearance. All about Luna’s party, mausoleum and crypt doors yawned wide.  Graves and tombs yielded up the dead.  Zombies, Lamias, Nagas, bare animated skeletons, bat like ponies landed and transformed to the appearance of normal ponies. The undead that had gathered about formed an aisle to one crypt.  Out of its doorway came a perfectly normal looking pony and a lamia, who glided forth on her sinuous, snake like lower body and tail.  The two were gently rubbing shoulders and the lamia was crowned with flowers. A truly smiling Princess Luna spoke to the couple.  “Canbe, do you regret your decision to stay here, in the very borderlands of Nightmare? “Flowering Ash, do you regret inviting Canbe to come and be among you all who are at the edge of Nightmares?” Both replied, “Not in the least, Princess.” Canbe added, “I have ventured out a few times to get us things that we had not here.  I still prefer to be here among my true friends.  It is our wish, Flowering Ash’s and mine that we be wed by you.” Flowering Ash, the lamia, nodded in agreement.  “Not only do I wish to wed Canbe, the rest of our sort want him to stay. “His mortal presence allows us to repair the damage of both vandal and time itself.” She paused and looked to a group of small zombies.  “His presence has made even the Forgotten Foals happy. “It is not only I that love him.” Princess Luna nodded, her long straight horn making a lightly glowing arc as she stated “Your wish is granted.  I have with me a wedding ribband.  Canbe hold forth your left forehoof.  Flowering Ash, hold forth your right beside his.” As the two did so, Princess Luna draped a shimmering white ribband of patterned satin with fringed ends across both forehooves.  She took Flowering Ash’s end and lifted it up between their hooves and allowed it to drape over Canbe’s.  She lifted Canbe’s end up between their hooves and draped it across Flowering Ash’s hoof. The Princess then spoke, “By this custom of of the Rom, whom I love also, I declare you married.  May your lives together be long and happy.” She turned to her Guard, who were standing at a formal Brace of Honor, “My good Guard, you have acquitted yourselves admirably, this night.  By my dispensation, you may stand down and dine.  Besides the treats that you collected earlier, you will find that the grass here is of the finest.  Feel free to browse in safety.  The fountain over by Canbe and Flowering Ash’s crypt is sweet and wholesome.” To their surprise, the Guard actually regretted it when told to assemble for leaving. As they flew through the boundary between reality and the dream, Captain Lightning confided, “I have been keeping a diary of my Duty served with the Princess.  I don’t know how to write this one up.  Nopony would believe it.”  Nalot, who had nearly not been allowed to come, replied, “Just write it up.  It really does not matter if some pony does not believe it.  I am beginning to understand what I signed up for when I volunteered to become one of Luna’s Guard.” > SQUEAK’S NIGHTMARE NIGHT > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a lovely night for flying!  Weather this good was so perfect that Squeak didn’t even need to use his eyes.  The echoes of his chirps, silent to pony ears, were all the guide that he needed.  That left Squeak’s eyes free to appreciate the beauty of this Nightmare Night. While admiring the nearly full moon, shining on the tops of the few thin clouds, his leathery wings made a constant chorus of rustling thumps in the cool night air! The thestral spotted his destination!  He dropped in a showy spiral dive toward Caramel Treat’s Sweets!  It was simply YEARS since he helped her to set up and do her first Nightmare Night celebration! He landed solidly in the midst of the Nightmare Night revelers in Caramel’s Outdoors dining area, where her celebration was in full swing! He was confronted by a huge Everfree Ridgeback wolf who was NOT Caramel Treat!  Startled, he took a step back, half raising his big bat-like wings! One of the glamor disguised Underworld demons put a very well made trident between them and exclaimed, “Squeak!  We didn’t know that you were coming!  Don’t you recognize me?  I am Graymak!” The big wolf paused.  Turning to Graymak he said, “This is Squeak?  The thestral that helped Caramel so much for her first Nightmare Night?” Squeak bobbed his head as he agreed, “I am he.  I hoped to see my friend Caramel again.” Squeak jumped as Caramel slipped up behind him, totally undetected!  She wrapped him in a big hug and ordered, “Where have you been?  You must tell me everything!” Squeak returned her hug and offered, “I have been assisting Princess Luna. I used to be one of the Guards of the Nightmare Throne.  When she found out that I am still alive, she has had me accompany her on her annual rounds of Horspital Foal wings, visiting those foals who cannot be out on Nightmare Night from sickness or injury.  We finished up with the Ponyville General Horspital Foal wing about an hour ago and she let me come here.” Caramel paused for a second and shook her shaggy head.  “I thought for a second there that you said that you lived through the Second Nightmare War!” Squeak nodded.  “I did.  Both of them, actually.” Caramel stepped back and looked her friend up and down.  “Over 2000 years old?  Nonsense!  You don’t look a night over 1000!” More seriously, she inquired, “Why didn’t you ever mention how old you are before this?” Squeak grinned as he replied, “Nopony asked!” Caramel grinned, “At your advanced age, you must be hungry!” Turning to Graymak, she said, “You are needed in the kitchen yesterday! Besides Fangrin, you are the only help I have that can cook meats!” The glamor disguised goat saluted her with his trident and retorted, “I am on my way, Night Wolf! Peanut Brittle, Caramel’s palomino waitress, in her “traditional” witch costume asked, “One trout or two, Squeak?  I seem to recall you liking them.” Squeak perked up at once!  “Two, please!  I have not eaten since we started our rounds of Horspitals!  That much flying was hungry making work!” Peanut made a bee line for the kitchen.  Caramel asked, “Fangrin Dear, can you take the front, here, while Squeak has a dinner and he and I talk?  We have a lot of catching up to do.” Fangrin’s big shaggy head nodded.  “Do it, Caramel.  I will watch for malefactors!” Caramel and Squeak were deep in conversation about the many things that he had been doing for the last few years.  Graymak brought out Squeak’s trout on a platter. He told them, “We need Squeak out front as soon as he finishes eating, if he is going to stay, that is.  Romaine has her portrait camera all set up and ponies are asking for their portraits taken with him! They want you, too, Caramel!” As they were taking their places flanking a little pegasus for a Nightmare Night portrait to be remembered, Caramel asked, “Do all thestrals live as long as you have, Squeak?” “Thank the Twins, no.  Most of my kind are old by a hundred and twenty. Some live to a hundred and fifty.  I am the only one that I know of who has lived for a couple of thousand years.” The little pegasus put a hoof around each of them, pulling both monsters close in a friendly hug for her portrait.  She asked, “Why is living a long time a bad thing, mister Thestral?” Squeak crouched his dark, bat-winged form down to her level and asked gently, “Dear, do you know of anypony that you cared about who has died?” The little pegasus snuffled and her eyes teared up.  “I miss my Mama.” Squeak nodded sagely.  “Now, dear, imagine that you live long enough so that EVERYPONY that you know will die.  Sure, you will keep meeting and loving new ponies, but you will know that THEY will die, too. “Either you get so callous that death means nothing to you or you will treasure each one all the more.  That last is the way that I have chosen.  It has greater pains but greater rewards too. “Now, pardon me, but I have another portrait to pose for.” The young pegasus held Squeak back for a second with a fierce hug.  “Now I understand, Mister Thestral.  I am sorry for your losses.  I am glad that you have Princess Luna to help you through them.  If you ever need me, Cloud Flipper will be here for you too.” He gently returned her hug and replied, “Cloud Flipper, it is an honor to meet you.  You have made this Nightmare Night the best one in my memory.” > BEHIND YOU! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sarrie was sitting quietly in the park across from Caramel Treat’s Sweets. After she was finished writing this tale for Equestria’s Dark Corners magazine of horror stories, she planned to eat there.  The famous Werewolves, Caramel Treat and her mate Fangrin were well known to be among the best cooks in all of Equestria.  In spite of that, their prices were quite reasonable. Gripped in her lavender magic, her pen fairly flew across the pages!  It was nearly dinner time!  She could almost taste the Clover Steak with onion and mushroom sauce! Muddy brown magic, matching his perpetually angry eyes, reached across her shoulder and snatched away the pages of her hard work! Sarrie spun about, demanding, “Cortwrong, give that back!  It is mine!” Cortwrong sneered, “Not no more!  I gots it!  I gonna read this piece of crap you done write and then it go in the trash!” Sarrie paused and said bitterly, “You will be sorry that you stole from me, Cortwrong!” She gripped a pendant of dark, aged looking silver in her lavender magic and muttered under her breath, “By that which lurks in the darkness where even Luna goes not, by that which lives in silent rot, may what you see, happen to thee!  Cortwrong’s black heart be stilled by this art” The ugly reddish brown pony paused his reading, to condescend, “Oh, forgot that you pretend to witchcraft!  I shakin’ in my ponyshoes!” He went back to reading, snorting from time to time!  When done, he wadded all of Sarrie’s story up and chucked it into the trash! While he was occupied, Sarrie bucked him under the jaw, laying him out cold!  She retrieved her crumpled, torn and soiled pages and crossed the cobbled street to the clipping sound of her hooves as she made her way to Caramel Treat’s. Sighing, she sat while the usually palomino waitress Peanut Brittle, now green and in a witch costume, came to take her order. Instead, she took in the situation at a glance and suggested,  “We have Grumpy Goat here, doing glamor spells on our Nightmare Night cast. He is a wizard with documents.  Pardon the pun, but he could fix your manuscript.  It will be on the house.” In only a few minutes, Peanut returned, accompanied by a goat skull floating in the air with no visible support.  It had big fangs instead of a goat’s vegetation chompers and it had glowing, snake like eyes.  Between the curled horns a candle burned bright and steady, in spite of a minor breeze. Sarrie stared. “I was about to compliment you on your glamor spell.  You do have some on the skull and they are lovely work but the rest, that is really you, isn’t it?” The skull replied, “In the total lack of the flesh!  Yep, this is me. I made a tiny mistake in calling up the Litch King, early on.  It has been the best mistake that I ever made.” He began to examine the pages.  He drew an audible breath of admiration. “This is the latest Sarrie Grayhoof tale for Equestria’s Dark Corners?  I am a fan of yours!  It will be a privilege to straighten out your manuscript.  Do you mind if I read it while I do?” A bemused Sarrie muttered, “Be my guest.  I was not looking forward to recopying it.” A pair of ghostly goat hooves reached out and carefully began to straighten and smooth the pages.  Stains vanished.  Creases and tears healed to make whole, sound pages. Muttering slightly, Grumpy read to the ending, “Whatever you do, don’t look . . .” He was interrupted by a loud voice from the park across the street. “Quit following me!” Looking up, Grumpy complimented, “Sarrie, that is really well cast!  I love the shadows.” Cortwrong yelled, “I said, get around where I can see you or I am gonna look anyway!” Romaine, roving reporter for the Ponyville Prancer, already glamored for her part in Caramel Treat’s Nightmare Night cast, was snapping pictures as fast as she could! Cortwrong gave a scream of mortal agony!  He plunged to the earth of the park, his life’s blood spurting from his ripped out throat!  His wide eyed head was ripped around to stare straight back behind him! > THE LUCK OF BLACK CATS > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It is well known that Black Cats bring bad luck.  It may be that it is not QUITE true. Sugar Maple was playing outside, in her Grandmare’s neatly fenced yard. Sugar loved to visit Grandmare but her mom really didn’t like to bring her this far into the Everfree Forest. Sugar climbed onto the platform of Grandmare’s swing set and began to shift her weight to make the swing swoop back and forth!  It was fun!  The wind made her light brown mane and tail fly about as the butter colored foal swept from one end of the swing to the other and back! The swing was almost as much fun as playing with Grandmare’s cats!  They were all pure, silky black and over half of them had wings like a bat!  They could really fly well, too!  Sugar bailed off the swing at the top of its swoop and spread her own young wings!  Her glide was inexpert but enthusiastic, as she sailed about Grandmare’s cottage! She almost made it all the way around, back to the swing set!  Her hooves hit the lawn sod only about ten feet short of her goal! Little hooves clattering on the stone of the front steps, Sugar dashed into Grandmare’s little house!  “Mom!  Grandmare!  I glided almost all the way around the house!  I made it almost all the way back to the swing!” Her mother set her teacup down firmly and began, “SUGAR MAPLE, what have I told you about unsupervised flying!?” Grandmare raised an admonitory black furred wing and used the other to scoop Sugar into a welcoming hug!  Taking a moment to preen a few small tangles from Sugar’s mane with her razor sharp fangs, Grandmare said gently, “You did very well.  Did you flap at all or was it a pure glide?” Giving her leaf brown mother a slightly fearful glance, Sugar replied, “I glided the whole way!  I did cup my wings up to land!  I came down real gentle.” The hug was pulled tighter as Grandmare smiled, showing her fangs. Shifting her voice up, beyond the hearing of most ponies, Grandmare asked, “[How is your chirping coming along?]” Answering the same way, Sugar replied, “[It is going really good!  Mom can’t hear it, so I practice it a lot!]” “[Tell me, Sugar, what you chirp in my bedroom?]” Excitedly, Sugar exclaimed, “You got a dress horse with a costume on it!  It is too small for Mom or you, so it must be for me!” Nodding, Grandmare agreed, “It is, Dear.  Go and try it on.  Later, we will practice flying our way.” Sugar dashed for the back room! Granmare returned her attention to Sugar’s mom.  “Hazel, I thought that I made it perfectly clear that Sugar must be allowed to develop!  Look at you!  You play the part of a crippled pegasus!  You do it so well that you have lost the ability to fly or even hear chirping! “THAT is too high a price to pay for ‘fitting in’!” Hazel looked down and fiddled with her teacup before trying, “If anypony ever saw my extended wing, or Sugar’s for that matter, they would scream THESTRAL!  There could be a mob!  I don’t want Sugar hurt!” Grandmare softened, “In that, we are agreed.  Caramel Treat’s is always a safe place.  Those Werewolves do understand the problem and will protect us.  So will Reverend Smallflower at the Assembly.” Their discussion was ended by the return of Sugar.  She was wearing the costume as a thestral witch!  Two of Grandmare’s cats were riding her shoulders, purring happily.  One casually lifted a furry, bat like wing to scratch under it. Grandmare was delighted.  Hazel was less so, but agreed that it was a great costume. Grandmare led Sugar outside, the cats following.  Soon Sugar was fluttering short distances and landing properly.  The cats were 'helping.’  They thought that the fluttering filly was a great toy!  Conversely, Sugar, dodging their mock attacks thought that the cats were great teachers!  It only took a few hours before she was swooping and dodging with them in a game of sky tag!  Happy foal’s laughter pealed from the October air. Grandmare nodded serenely, “She takes to the sky as naturally as breathing. A true thestral if ever there was one.” Hazel agreed sadly, “I know.  I hope that Ponyville will be better to her than it was to me.” Grandmare turned Sympathetic eyes to Hazel.  “I do know what you mean, dear. You half breeds have it rougher than we full bloods and the unicorns have never forgiven our service to the Nightmare Throne, 2000 years ago, in the Nightmare Wars.  The only thing that shows Maple to be a partial breed is her color.” Sighing, Hazel glanced at the sun’s angle and suggested, “We must return home, Grandmare.  It has actually been a good visit.” Hazel and Sugar Maple trotted back along the nearly overgrown trail that led from Grandmare’s to behind the Duchess O’ Red Hoof’s land.  It joined the trail leading from Brightmane’s cottage.  It became far better and more traveled after that. They reached Ponyville proper and went into their snug little cottage home without incident.  The two cats immediately flew from Sugar’s shoulder, circling about the room, high and low.  They perched on the sofa back and began to preen. Evening began and with it, Nightmare Night.  Gathering together her loot bag and a “Witch’s Staff”, Maple set out.  Both cats riding her shoulders. She joined a group making the rounds of homes and small businesses. “Wow! That is a neat thestral witch costume!  How did you turn your fur black, Sugar?” She smiled and replied, “Just a cheap brush in dye.  It will wash out.” “Gee, I wish that I had a cat like yours to go with my witch costume! Aren’t you afraid of bad luck?  They are pure black.” The mare in charge of the small herd was in a silly looking deer costume with phony horns on a spring gripper across her head! Of course, they dropped in on Caramel Treat’s Sweets for their famous Nightmare Night display and fabulous foal bowl!  It did not disappoint!  There were the very real Werewolves, Caramel and Fangrin in their Everfree Ridgeback Wolf forms, a black gryphon, several games and the foal bowl hidden under mists in a big cauldron. The party went on toward the more residential parts of town, followed by a pegasus in a skull like mask and a costume of bones painted onto black cloth.  His wings could slide out through reinforced cuts in the fabric.  It hid his cutie mark. Sugar chirped, too high for ponies to hear, to the cats, “[Dark Sky, New Moon, could you go back and cross his path a few times?  I do not like him following us!]” In answer, both cats hopped from her shoulder, gliding to the ground and scampering back!  They paraded across his path repeatedly. Undeterred, he continued to follow the herd of foals. The cats returned to Sugar’s shoulder.  The foal herd was approaching Drastin Park and its big unobstructed hoof ball pitch.  He charged toward the hapless foals! He tripped on two cats that had been watching him for any such stunt! He faceplanted, in a most embarrassing way!  The whole herd of foals heard him fall and stopped to watch! Climbing back to his hooves, he charged again!  Bowling the foals over like ninepins, he grabbed two foal loot bags and leaped for the night sky! Two cats and Sugar were on his tail, almost immediately!  The cats snagged his left wing, causing him to spiral out of control!  Before he could do anything to get rid of the cats, Sugar slammed her head in between his hind legs and power dived, flipping him over onto his back! Before he could do anything, he hit the ground with a crunch!  Sugar landed lightly beside him and gathered up the stolen loot bags.  She was still picking up spilled treats when the rest of the group swarmed around her! As Sugar was returning the stolen bags, one of the colts said admiringly, “We could see the whole thing!  The moon lit up those thin clouds and we could see it all!!  You really are a thestral! That was so neat how you took him down!” One of the fillies came and got her loot bag.  She petted the cats and said, “I guess that the thing about black cats and bad luck is true!”  Giggling, she pointed to the fallen pegasus thief.  “It sure was for him!” > NIGHTMARE NIGHT AT THE SWEET SPOT > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Molly and her foals, Sis and Morty, all in silly fake deer costumes, approached the welcoming door of the Sweet Spot.  The happy jangle of the door’s spring bells announced their entry into the shop. They heard a cheerful, “Be right with you!  Just tending to a tiny bit of business!” A cream colored unicorn came out of the back of the shop.  He was wearing a silly looking deer costume too!  He had a pair of the nuttiest looking horns on his head that any of them had ever seen! The big spring holding them onto his head had a hole in it for his unicorn horn to stick up through.  The rest of his costume was a tan cloak with white spots and a phony short tan tail with a white underside. He called, “Welcome to the Sweet Spot!  Best candies in all of Ponyville!” Molly, Sis and Morty all chanted, “Nightmare Night!  What a fright!  Give us something sweet to bite!” Smiling, Roe hoofed over his justly famous foal bowl, full of treats.  They all helped themselves. Roe escorted his family into the back, where his living quarters were, before he married Molly and took in her family.  They now lived over at Molly’s cottage with its prosperous wood lot business. As I escorted them into the back, I told them in a serious voice, “You all know what I truly am.  A deer like me, disguise or no, is a creature on the borderlands between dream and Nightmare. “Through your good hearts and kind wishes, you have seen the good side of me. I had help in setting up this room for our party.  Those who helped me would like to come but must be invited by you all, as well as me.” Molly took one look around the room, now hung thickly with real spiderwebs. There was a drink fountain that flowed from the jaws of a pony skull.  It had phosphorescent glows in its eye sockets.  Treats and game prizes were laid out on top of an ornate coffin.  Ring toss targets looked like the skulls of unicorns. Molly got a chuckle out of the dart board.  It was rear end pictures of the Ponyville Council from last year.  Every pony remembered them trying to shut down even small Nightmare Night parties to boost attendance at a Gala that was supposed to be for charity.  Grumpy Goat, up on his mountain, and some Rom had put an end to that plot!  And this year, their plots were dart targets! There was fog of some sort flowing over the sides of the apple bobbing tub. There was dark crepe all over and real bats swooping about! It was Sis (actually Sisterca, but she didn’t care for the name) who asked simply, “If they are friends of yours, Roe, they are welcome!” Morty agreed, “If they helped to set this up, they should enjoy the party!” Molly looked about in admiration and said, “It would be a shame if those who helped to set up the party were not here.  By all means, Roe, they are invited.” As she finished speaking, a black maned and tailed filly who was white as mist simply trotted through the door!  It opened behind her to admit a pair of liches, followed by a number of small zombie like foals.  Behind them came a normal looking pony with a lamia gliding along beside him on her sinuous serpent’s lower body and tail.  Behind them were two normal looking ponies that Molly recognized! She exclaimed, “Prilla!  Charley!  I thought that I heard that Charley was killed in an accident!  Didn’t you move to Trottingham?” Prilla nodded, a smile on her face.  “Both true, Molly.  Roe brought Charley back as well as he could.  Vampony.  I had to choose whether to let him go back to death or join him in undeath.  It was no choice, really.  I loved him then and I love him now.  We moved to Trottingham to have a safer place to stay.” Charley spoke up, “We owe Roe a lot.  Thanks to his help, we have not killed anypony and get along really well in Trottingham.” I nodded, happy that things had gone so well for them. The two litches nudged the ghostly white and black filly toward me.  She ducked her head in acknowledgment and came over to Molly and I. Fishing in a saddlebag, she pulled out a wrapped rectangular bundle. She offered it to Molly and I.  As we took it, she spoke.  “This is by way of saying thanks, Mister Roe.  It is from all three of us.  I copied the words.  Junea did the pictures and Zom bound the book.  It is a copy of Elane, Vampony of Canterlot.” Molly was carefully examining the lovely book.  She asked, “What did Roe do for the three of you?  You look more, um, don’t get me wrong but, well, more alive than Junea and Zom.” The filly smiled, “Sorry, not used to being around the living that much.  I am Bonnie Bones and I am as alive as you are. “Mister Roe found an abandoned unicorn filly with a stunted horn near the Everfree.  I wished that somepony cared about me.  Roe sent me to Ponyville Cemetery.  Zom and Junea took me into their crypt and raised me.” Junea put her skeletal head into the conversation.  “Zom and I always wanted a filly.  We had a book binding business and I did art that we sold too.  We both died in a fire at the shop.  Zom could have got out but was trapped while trying to save me.” She inclined her mostly skeletal head toward me.  “Roe hears more wishes than just those of the living.  Bonnie has made us and many others in the Borderlands of Life very happy. “It was the ghosts that taught her how to walk through walls and the like.  Being alive, she brought games and liveliness to the Forgotten Foals. “Bonnie has done for us what Canbe has done for the ancient ones.  Canbe is the mortal over by the lamia, Flowering Ash.” Molly was looking about the very active party with new eyes.  She leaned against me and said, “You take care of both the living and the dead, dear.  I am even prouder of you than I was.” Over in small clear area, Sis and some of the Forgotten Foals had a busy game of jacks going, ball bouncing and hooves sweeping up the sets. They were up to foursies.  Mort had a bunch playing ring toss and some of the Forgotten Foals were over in a clear area playing hop-scotch. Flowering Ash slithered up and asked, “It is a lovely party, Roe.  Will there be refreshments for us?” I replied, “Honestly, Flowering Ash, I am not certain.  I know that one who is a candidate is coming to the Sweet Spot.  If he does no wrong, he will go away safely.  I do not think that he will though.” Just then, we all heard the shop door’s spring bells! It was Horace, a local ne'er do well, barely in costume.  He saw me and hollered, “Nightmare Night!  I gives you a fright!  Gimme all the candy in sight!” I pulled the foal bowl away from his greedy hooves and said sourly, “Horace, you do know how to say it right.  Say it right and get your treats or go away.” Horace cocked a rust brown ear toward the back.  “They is a party back there!  I goin’ and no puny-corn like you gonna stop me!” I actually stood aside as I retorted, “I wouldn’t dream of it!” Locking up and following him into the back room, I called out, “Refreshments are served!” Lovely Prilla, now known as Vamprilla, stepped up to him and gave him fine bedroom eyes as she suggested, “No need to be so loud and brash. Just lie down and let us take care of you.” Like they had a mind of their own, his legs folded under him and he laid right down.  Prilla stroked a gentle hoof along the back of his neck and leaned forward, her bite as gentle as a kiss.  Charley joined her. Flowering Ash slid across to them and softly suggested, “Neither of you has killed any pony yet.  That is a good thing.  Drink your fill but leave him alive.  Let me kill him for you.” I considerately led Molly, Sis and Mort out to the front.  Shortly we were joined by Canbe.  A little later, Bonnie Bones popped out and asked, “Are you guys OK?” Sis replied, “I thought that you were alive, like us.” Bonnie chuckled, “I am, Sis.  I’m snagging goodies off the refreshments coffin.  But, you know, I do eat with them, just not the same things. After all, they are my family!  Wouldn’t be polite not to eat with them.” > BLOOD RED ROSE > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The spell called for blood or a rose.  Pointea pondered that for a “spell.”  She giggled a little at the bad joke and lifted the book closer to be sure that she was right. Blood OR a Rose.  No question about it.  Pointea wondered about that. There was no mention of how much blood or even from who or what. Just blood.  Well, OR a rose. She looked carefully over her already gathered items for the spell. Strands of mane or tail from her chosen victim.  Um, if the book was right, he was not going to feel like one.  Wax from a bee hive that had never before been gathered from.  Honey, ditto. Her Wand of the Art.  More of a staff, actually.  That had been difficult to make correctly.  A ritual knife.  Not as difficult as the Wand, but certainly not easy. A witchy looking black cloak, not necessary at all, apparently.  It just looked spiffy!  Same for her pointy wide brimmed hat.  It all went really well with her dark gray, nearly black fur and her pure black mane and tail.  Her eyes were black and so was the magic from her horn.  All of that black helped to set the mood, after all, Nightmare Night was nearly here. Pointea had not been invited to any Nightmare Night party at all.  She muttered to herself, “If this works, I will have MY OWN PARTY!” She didn’t have a rose, not this late in the year.  She did have plenty of blood.  Since no amount was mentioned, she figured that a drop or two would be enough. She set a small pot to hang on chains from a tripod set over the flames of a little fire.  After that, she very carefully drew her circles of protection, using her knife.  Each circle was set about with runes that should ward off evil.  For each circle or rune, there was a small ceremony to be done. She began with an incantation to draw favorable spirits to her working. Following directions carefully, after all, Grumpy Goat was a fine example of what could go wrong with non-equine magic, Pointea added her honey to the pot, waited for it to warm to a thin liquid and added the wax, stirring it in to make a uniform mixture.  Taking her knife, she winced as she nicked her leg just above the hoof, allowing a few drops of her blood to fall into the mixture.  Last, the hairs went in. She was actually surprised when the hairs simply dissolved in the mixture, just as the book said that they would. The whole mixture began to bubble up but instead of boiling over the sides of the pot, it swirled up into a smoke or fume! The vapor gathered itself at a single place on one side of her circles. Pointea cut the circles with her knife and the mist flowed out, seeming to dissipate.  That was all.  Nothing further seemed to be happening. Shrugging, Pointea tidied up the area so that no sign of her working remained and sauntered home.  Either what she did worked or it did not. Patience was what she needed now. She reflected that whether her spell worked or not, she did feel better for having done something.  Maybe Nightmare Night would not be lonely and empty.  She hoped. Her black magic pushed the door of her cottage open.  Her tidy home was a mess!  Somepony had broken in while she was out! She heard a noise coming from her bedroom.  Gripping her wicked looking Knife of Art in her black magic, she called out, “Whoever you are, come out!  I have the only door blocked.  You can’t get away!” An earth pony put his head around her bedroom door.  He saw the knife held in magic so strong that it looked to be almost solid black! He shuddered all over.  Carefully and slowly he emerged.  “There is no need for the knife, Ma'am.  I give up.  I made a bad mistake here. Let me show you. “See, something near pulled me here to this cottage on the outskirts of town.  At first, I was thinking to rob you.  That is when I made this mess.” Pointea paused and thought before asking, “At first?  What changed your mind?” “I saw that everything here was like, second hand store stuff.  Really neat and tidy but poor pony’s stuff.  As I sorted out that you were poor, like me, well, I started to try tidying up the mess that I made.  I got the kitchen all straightened out and was working on the bedroom when you came in.” It took only a glance toward the kitchen to show Pointea that it was tidy but not quite the way that she always left it. She asked him, “Please stand away from the bedroom door.  I wish to see something.” Slightly hanging his head, he did stand aside.  Pointea could see that the left side of her bedroom was still a bit of a mess. The right side, like the kitchen, was tidy, but not as she had left it. Turning to him, she observed, “It appears that you are telling me the truth.  You were tidying up. “I do need to see your flanks.  You have hidden your cutie mark.” He nodded.  “If you have me jailed, I guess that I deserve it.”  He pulled away the flank covers and revealed his cutie mark. Pointea sucked in her breath in surprise! His flanks bore a blood red rose! > NIGHTMARE NIGHT LESSON > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The palomino waitress, Peanut Brittle, called, “Um, Boss!! They are back!  They are roosting on all the stronger branches of our hedges and up on the roof, too!” Caramel Treat called back from the kitchen of her restaurant, Caramel Treat’s Sweets, “I know, Peanut!  They are a little early, that’s all!  I set out some meat for them in the back dining area! “Don’t worry about the vultures!  They are behaving, just like Roe promised that they would!  He says that the bats will be right on time!” Peanut Brittle looked up at the big vultures roosting all around the outdoor dining plaza of Caramel Treat’s Sweets.  They were looking right back at her, except for the ones that were staring at the customers.  And licking their beaks in anticipation! The customers were clearly enjoying the bizarre show!  Caramel Treat’s Sweets was known all over Equestria and the many lands beyond for being a place for superb food and for their unique Nightmare Night Celebrations!  Those presently dining were happily accepting the big black carrion birds as a part of this year’s celebration. After all, Peanut had already dyed her fur green and was wearing her traditional witch costume as she took orders.  Several goats disguised as small “Demons of the Underworld” lounged about, holding tridents or other instruments. She glanced up at the big black birds and muttered to herself, “Only one more full day and it will be Nightmare Night! “Caramel sure is keeping it close to her chest about who her secret Guest of Honor is!” Caramel, whose extremely sharp werewolf’s senses allowed her to hear the comment, replied, “That is because I have pulled off one of the best ones yet!  I don’t want anypony trying to pull her away from our celebration!  I have special decorations ordered from Bleater’s Hallow, too.  Those should arrive later today in a closed van.” Shrugging, Peanut went back to taking orders. Shortly she was joined by Fangrin, Caramel’s mate, in his pony form.  He was gray all over.  His mane and tail were the same gray but darker. He confided, “Caramel has not told me, either.  I do have a guess.  I saw the drawings for the dining area decorations.  More like a stage set, really.  There will be a dark throne at the center of it all.” Almost instantly, Romaine, roving reporter for the Ponyville Prancer, and usually having light green fur with a darker green mane and tail, was there.  As part of the Caramel Treat’s Sweets Nightmare Night staff, she was glamored to resemble a somewhat skeletal dark colored thestral. She pointed out, “I have been with Caramel’s Nightmare Night celebrations since the beginning.  May I quote you about the dark throne?  You know that I will not reveal anything without clearing it with Caramel first.” Fangrin nodded thoughtfully.  “You may quote me on that but you must keep this whole thing secret until Caramel releases it, OK?” “I promise it,” Romaine replied.  “Will there be a Dark Court to go with the Dark Throne?” Fangrin snickered a bit as he said, “Yes, there will be!” Further exchange was stopped by the arrival of a large delivery van pulled by six goats.  Their leader, a plain tan color, unhitched and trotted over to Fangrin. “Pardon, Sir.  We have the decorations and set for the restaurant’s Nightmare Night.  What shall we do with it?” Caramel was out from the kitchen at once!  She was in her pony form too.  She conferred with the goat’s leader and one of the pulling crew.  They were going over the set diagram. “The tables will be reset like so.  Keep the throne shrouded until our guest arrives.  We need to work around our dining guests.  Got it?” The goat leader nodded, “Got it!”  Turning to his crew, he called, “Put the van’s loading ramp down!  We are starting the set up now! Don’t do anything to disturb the diners.  We just have to work around them.” Van doors were opened and a stout ramp secured.  The industrious goats began to unload many pieces and fabric curtains.  As the set began to take shape, it was clear that it was looking very like a large, dark, bare stonework, castle room. Last, the goats wrestled out a large object shrouded in black cloth.  They set it up with care on a stage-like dais at the back of the room. In front of the dais, they set up Caramel’s traditional cracked cauldron, supported on chains from a stout tripod. The vultures had waited on the roof until all was ready.  They swooped about and found perches on ledges and rods provided for their use. The dark birds stared out to the various games and tables, suggestively licking their beaks! All was in readiness for the big day and night tomorrow!  The van was now stored behind Caramel’s restaurant. It was late, almost closing time when Caramel’s secret guest of honor arrived. The call came from above!  “Make way!  Royal Guard landing!” A flight of six Royal Armored Pegassi in the livery of Princess Luna landed in the street in front of Caramel Treat’s!  They were in an open Vee formation, with the open side facing the now decorated restaurant!  Princess Luna landed lightly in the center of their formation and paced forward, into Caramel’s shop!  Her Guard followed, breaking formation to enter through the tables across the front of the outdoor dining area and reforming as soon as they were clear of them. It was a most impressive display of marching skill.  Luna turned to them and smiled.  “My good Guards, you are now released to recreation as you see fit.  You have served me well on the night flight to this place. “I know that you have deep and honest concerns about my safety.  I am as well guarded here as I could be.  This event is being watched over by two Werewolves, Grumpter Goat, and the Litch King himself. “If I may be so bold as to recommend it, the food here at Caramel Treat’s is some of the finest to be found in the whole kingdom.  And whatever you get will be paid by Royal Largess.  The Lovely Witch pony here, is waiting to take your orders.” Caramel and Fangrin came out and managed good courtly bows, in spite of being in their wolf forms.  They chorused, “Welcome to Caramel Treat’s Nightmare, oh, Ruler of the Dream.” The three disappeared into the restaurant proper. Watching them go, one of the Guard spoke to Captain Lightning, “It still makes me nervous when the Princess just takes off like that with commoners.” The Captain, relaxing at a table and examining the menu, replied, “It used to bother me too, Baron.  The worst risks that she has ever faced mostly came from the nobility.  Most of those were Counts or Dukes.  When she is among the Rom or supernatural beings, I really worry less.  They are VERY careful to protect both Princesses.” “I understand that, Captain.  I am worried about all of the common ponies that she will be around with this Nightmare Night thing.” The Captain turned to Peanut and requested, “The Clover Steak with Sea Grass Puffs, please.  The Honeyed Cider sounds perfect to go with it. Thank you.” Returning his attention to the Baron, he pointed out, “Among those watching her, this visit is the Litch King.  A being who can not be dodged or avoided.  One who can stop any attack by simply saying Drop Dead! And make it stick!” Sitting to the table, the worried Baron said, “I see.  Sort of like last Nightmare Night, when we went to that realm of monsters that Princess Luna said was on the edge of Nightmare.  She controls more than is apparent.” “Precisely. I understand that the security arrangements for this event make Palace Security look like foals playing with rag dollies.” The Baron looked about the place and commented, “Perhaps, but I see no sign of it.”  He paused thoughtfully for a few moments before adding, “It could be that it is so good that we do not see it.” Back in the kitchen, Luna was delightedly cooking up the dinner orders as they came in.  “This is so much fun, Caramel!  This short order cooking is so different from banquet or snack cooking!  Let’s see, this scramble will be fast, so I start it last …” The two big Everfree Ridgeback Wolves watched tolerantly while Princess Luna took over their kitchen.  Caramel confided to Fangrin, “This was her price.  Uninterrupted cooking except when she is being part of our Nightmare Night Staff.” Romaine quietly entered the kitchen and politely asked, “Your Highness, is it OK for me to get pictures of you cooking?  They will be part of my annual Caramel Treat’s Nightmare Night story for the Ponyville Prancer.  I already got pictures of your arrival with the Guard.” Princess Luna looked up from her cooking to exclaim, “Romaine!  I haven’t seen you since we made that book deal to clobber the so-called Celestian Church!  Of course you can!  That is a blanket permission for the whole event!” Caramel grinned, “You have the scoop, Romaine!  You know where the Magic Net mirror is!  Call it in and send your pictures!  We managed to keep this visit secret even from Luna’s Protocol Ponies!” With a final few pictures, Romaine nearly flew to the Magic Net mirror to call in her story and pictures! The next morning, just after staff breakfast, the vultures all took to the air, forming a swirling cone of birds of ill omen, centered on Caramel Treat’s! Looking out through spy holes in the set, the staff saw a long line already formed!  Out front, a news pony was hawking the Ponyville Prancer’s morning edition! “Extra! Extra!  Read all about it!  Princess Luna has come to Caramel Treat’s Nightmare Night Celebration!” Caramel turned to Princess Luna and suggested, “Let’s not keep them waiting, your Highness!” Taking that as a cue, two of the goats pulled the cover off the object on the dais, revealing The NIGHTMARE THRONE.  Luna actually drew a breath of surprise. “That is a very good copy of my Nightmare Throne in the Fortress of Nightmare!” One of the goats smiled at her.  “We had to work from our folklore!  I am glad that we got it done so well!” The glamored goats, appearing to be twisted creatures of Nightmare, stepped forward on the set and began to beat the start of a Processional on deeply resonant kettle drums.  The doors of the set opened impressively.  Caramel and Fangrin stepped out and went each to one side of the doors.  In full view of every pony waiting, they transformed into their monster sized Wolf forms. Luna’s Guard stepped out by twos, glamored as thestrals.  They formed up before the throne and split to two ranks, one flanking each side of the throne. Trumpets blew a fanfare while the deep drums kept their part of the processional going.  Princess Luna stepped forth, glamored to a Nightmare Alicorn.  She was all jet black, fur, mane and tail, her eyes glowing red coals, stark yellowed fangs in her jaws and small curls of flame were arising from her nostrils! She paced forward faced the crowd and blew out flare of fire.  The Nightmare then ascended to the Throne of Nightmare. She called, “Prepare the Cauldron of Fate!” The Cauldron was brought forth by a skeletal Alicorn, a witch pony and a Goat skull with fangs, glowing eyes and a candle burning between its horns.  The goat’s body was invisible but clearly supporting his leg of the cauldron’s tripod. They set it up some meters in front of the throne.  The witch touched it with her wand and mist began to arise and boil over the lip and some out through a prominent crack in the side of it. The big black gryphon, her flight feathers outlined in stark red and her eyebrows picked out in it too, admitted the foals and their escorts in groups of five.  Each “trial” game was set up for five to do at once. She whispered to one foal who was looking worried, “The Nightmare does not expect you to be perfect.  If you try at each game, that is enough.” Soon the area was an orderly madhouse of foals trying their luck at the games before “Advancing” to the Cauldron of Fate!  There, they chanted “Nightmare Night!  What a fright!  Give me something sweet to bite!” Plunging eager hooves into the famous Foal Bowl cauldron, they brought out treats for their loot bags! Besides taking photos of the unfolding event, Romaine had a sign up. Your picture with the Nightmare! Only ONE Silver, rolled in a tube Only TWO Silver, framed! All proceeds go to the Widows and Orphans Fund to feed and house the needy.  All donations will be matched from Royal Largess. In spite of the fairly steep price, there were many lined up to get their pictures made!  As he brought out a new stack of frames, one of the glamored goats commented, “It is good thing that when we heard about the photo thing, we brought our frame shop along in the van with the set!  You are keeping us hopping!” It was approaching noon when a goat, glamored as a creature of the underworld, began pushing a cart down the line waiting to get in.  He had small cheap snacks and an order book.  For those who wanted more than the snacks, he took orders and gave out numbers. Soon a second cart came down the line, delivering the ordered meals.  And more snacks, of course! Princess Luna was having a ball, hamming it up for the many photos of her and foals!  A favorite pose was her possessively gripping a costumed foal and making a threatening blast of flame.  Since the flame was a carefully designed glamor, it was totally harmless but delighted the foals! As evening came on, big cressets on either side of the throne lit up with flaring flames of blue, yellow and green!  Again, like her flaming breath, it was carefully designed glamors, totally harmless but a lot of fun! Among the new evening glamors that Grumpy was managing for Caramel and Fangrin was causing the whole set and cast to glow in a spectral and ghastly pale blue. Oohs and aahs of appreciation for the effect arose from the line.  The bats made their scheduled appearance, fluttering all about the set! The glow and the cressets were drawing in tasty moths and the little guys were having a field day! The well fed vultures were happily perched where they could look menacing and enjoying the whole show! A pegasus in full Royal Court attire fluttered down, landing self importantly in the midst of the set!  Without preamble, he demanded, “YOUR HIGHNESS!!  It was most difficult to find you!  Your presence is REQUIRED in Canterlot, immediately!  You must stop this foolishness with these commoners at once and come with me!” He was moving to block the next foal in line for a picture as he spoke. Princess Luna’s pale midnight magic, shot through with stars, reached out and slapped him from his feet!  It gently picked up the filly in her Princess Celestia costume and brought her to the dais. Ignoring the outcries of the outraged Count, she asked softly, “How would you like your picture to be made?” The filly thought for only a second.  “I’d like one of those vultures perching on my right wing and a couple of the bats on my left!  Want to be sort of rearing like Celestia facing down the Nightmare!  Can we do that?” For answer, a smiling Nightmare brought a vulture from its perch and herded a pair of bats to the filly’s wings.  She helped them all to be rearing and looking menacing towards her.  She reared in her own turn and held them all posed with her magic while Romaine got the picture! While waiting to have it framed, the filly pointed to the fallen count and asked, “Isn’t he awfully important?” Luna gave her a hug as she replied, “He certainly seems to think so. The answer is that he is wrong.  You, your dad and mom, and all of the other so called common folk of Equestria are who is really important. “All of his wealth and position rests on the work of all of you.  You are all the foundation upon which the house of the nobility rests. Without the foundation, the house would collapse. “It works the other way too, dear.  A foundation with no building is but useless stones.  Together, they form a whole building.  But never forget this.  It rests on the solid foundation that is all of you. “That is why I am here.  I honor the solid foundation of all of Equestria.” Admiring her framed picture, the filly replied, “Wow!  I got a real treasure, this Nightmare Night!  And it wasn’t just this picture! Thank You, Your Highness!” > A QUIET EVENING > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As they caught sight of Bonnie, poking her head through the door of her family crypt, the three began to back slowly away. Sweetie Belle whispering to the other two, “Now? Now you listen to me? I told you that coming here was a bad idea.” Scootaloo replied, “It is not like we are even breaking any sort of rule. It is still daytime. The cemetery gate isn’t locked yet or anything.” Bonnie, her cloudy white fur and black mane contrasting well with the aged oak of the crypt door actually agreed. “You don’t need to act frightened. The orange filly is right. You have not broken any sort of rules by being here in the daytime, even on the eve of Nightmare Night. I’m afraid that we don’t have any sort of treats for you, though.” Cautiously, Apple Bloom pointed out, “We might not be quite so cautious if you weren’t about half out of that door while it’s still closed. Are you some kind of ghost?” Bonnie looked back in confusion while she stepped free of the crypt. “No, I’m not a ghost or anything like that. The ones that are here are my friends but I’m not one of them. I am as alive as you are. Why would anypony need to open a door? What does that have to do with going through it?” The CMC looked at each other blankly. Apple Bloom pointed, “Are you SURE that you are alive? See those hinges and lock? Normal ponies need to unfasten the lock and push the door open. Then they can use the door to go in or out.” Comprehension dawning on her face, Bonnie observed, “So that’s what those things are for! I always wondered. Before I learned to use a door properly, Zom or Junea always let me out. I was little then and did not really pay attention.” The CMC looked at each other in mild consternation. “Who did you say taught you about using doors?” Bonnie shrugged, “You know, just the ghosts and my other playmates. Who else would?” Pausing, she gave the CMC the old steely eye. “Exactly what are you doing here?” Scootaloo looked down and scuffed the grass before she replied, “We heard that Morgripe and his buddies were planning to mess up some graves. That’s wrong. We kinda planned to set them up a sort of haunted graveyard. We got springs and sheets to do fake ghosts that could jump out from behind gravestones. You know, stuff like that. Don’t want to hurt them, just scare them off so that they don’t damage anything.” Bonnie perked right up! “Oh, that will be so much fun! I would love to help you! I have some friends that would like to help too! The Nightmare Moon is already up, so they can come out to join us!” Sweetie Bell looked up at the gibbous moon lurking high in the sky and at the nearly set sun. “Doesn’t the sun have to be down before, um, your buddies can come out?” “No, silly! They all follow the Night Mare. As long as she is up, we can play! They just usually wait until her sister goes down, that’s all.” Bonnie bounced happily over to a big mausoleum, and stuck her head through the door! The CMC could not hear anything through the heavy stone and solidly closed door. Bonnie cheerfully came back and told them, “Wait here! I am going to see if Flowering Ash or any of the other Ancient Ones want to help!” She galloped off towards the back of the cemetery, where it faced the Everfree forest. Apple Bloom watched her go. She wondered in a soft voice, “Are Ma and Pa here? Will they be helping us?” Sweetie Belle was watching critically and replied, “I don’t know, Apple Bloom, but Bonnie just jumped past the wall and it is sort of tumbldown and moss grown. I have been here before and the back wall was not like that.” In only a few moments Bonnie came floating serenely back, her legs folded neatly under her as if she were resting on something invisible. She alighted in front of them and exulted, “We are getting two unicorn litches and Flowering Ash to come help! We are getting some ghosts too! “When Flowering Ash gets here, show us how to help and where to set your “haunts!” The whole graveyard thinks that this is hilarious!” It was only a few moments before they saw the head of a beautiful gray mare across the moss grown wall. She reared up, forelegs folded, and crossed the wall, her forelegs remaining folded as her huge snakelike body slithered across the stones and undulated swiftly to them. While the CMC were watching the lamia, their eyes bugged out, two mostly skeletal unicorn litches leaped gracefully over the wall as well. With all gathered, Flowering Ash wrapped her long body abut the CMC, providing them with a comfortable resting place. Bonnie, with absolute confidence, joined them in her coils. Flowering Ash, smiled and suggested, “Please tell us what we need to know to help you set up this trap of frights for those vile vandals.” Eagerly, Scootaloo dug into a big saddlebag and pulled out parts! As she set a spring mounted to a cross stick, Apple Bloom pulled out a sheet, bound around soft straw with big googly eyes stuck on! Sweetie Belle attached trigger strings and set stakes to hold them where hooves would trip them! Giggling, Bonnie stomped one of the demonstration “ghost's” trigger strings! The false haunt leaped up, driven by the spring! It fluttered down flat, except for the bulbous head. Suddenly it lifted up and floated about, flapping a little. The CMC clapped hooves in delight! “A real ghost in our fake one! That is so perfect!” They guided the whole group to the area where they had overheard Morgripe and his buddies plotting to cross the cemetery wall. Choosing tombstones and other grave markers with care, the whole group planted the phony ghosts to provide the best scares. Thoughtfully, they planted some near the graveyard gate, too. While they were doing that, Sweetie Belle noticed, “I guess that we are stuck here for the night. They have locked the gate already.” Apple Bloom felt the softest of hugs and a gentle neck kiss. Almost like a breeze, her mane got ruffled. Her eyes misted up. “That you, Mom? Dad? Thanks.” Flowering Ash pointed out, “If you are here when things happen, it will spoil the effect. Here, let me help.” One by one, she held the CMC and lifted them over the wall, setting them gently on their hooves and pulling back to her massive coils for the next. The next morning, all of Ponyville was abuzz with the story! Morgripe and his friends had done it again! They came running over their ladder screaming about ghosts and monsters in the graveyard! Constables opening the gate had got a bit of a fright too, as spring trap “ghosts” jumped out at them! Morgripe and Co. were in trouble again! And the CMC, giggling behind their hooves, could not say anything about their Nightmare Night adventure that actually worked like it was supposed to! ~THE END~ > NO REFUND > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The cloud white mare with black mane and tail regarded the party with suspicion. She pointed an accusing hoof at the party’s leader, a gaunt looking yellow pony with scraggly off red mane and tail. “Why would you be wanting to dig up this grave? This pony is at rest. You sure that you aren’t ghouls using a pretext so that you can grab a snack?” That pony just snarled, “Ain’t none of your business, Whitey! And NO! We ain’t ghouls!” She stepped into his way and sat solidly on the grave that the yellow pony was trying to get his shovel into. “It is my business! Anypony trying to disturb my home is my business! Why do you want to dig up Rory Saddler? What is the point, if not to eat his corpse?” The apparently piebald black, tan and white goat in the party spoke up, “Cory Saddler here, seems to think that his uncle Rory, who was well known as a schemer and con artist, did not die and get buried here. I made a contract with Rory that he would die quickly and without pain, last month. He insisted on paying me 12,000 bits for that merciful ending to his long and basically dishonest life.” Cory interrupted, “That money should have gone to me! I was promised half of his estate when he died! Since he spent it all on this wicked goat, he gotta give me back that money! They is a refund clause in that there contract. Uncle Rory just pulled another fast one but he outsmarted himself this time! When he ain’t in that box down there, this here goat gotta give back that gold that he done nothing to earn!” The goat spoke up, “Technically, I would owe the money to Rory, not you. His contract is very specific in that regard. If he is not in that grave, the 13,200 bits of refund and 10% indemnity will be placed into a trust fund at Ponyville Trust and Loan which ONLY He can claim.” The mare regarded the apparent goat with interest. “That is a lovely glamor, mister goat. Are you Mister Grumpy Goat that lives up on the mountain over there?” He nodded agreeably, “That is me, alright. May I ask who you are?” She smiled. “Bonny. Bonny Bones, Mister Grumpy. Pleased to meet you.” “Can this polite crap! Rory’s will been read! That cheat left me half of his estate! After the dratted funeral come out, me and Melisande only got eighteen bits to split between us! That and his old clothes and shoes!” Grumpy cocked his head, floppy ears lifted some with interest. “What did you do with his possessions?” Cory snarled, “I give them all to Mel! She get me and the law pony to sign that his crap was hers. She find a hid compartment in his trunk with five hundred gold bits in it! Wouldn’t share none with me, neither! Just waive that paper where I give her Rory’s old crap.” Bonnie looked askance at Cory. “Sounds to me like you made your own misfortunes, so far. I have been here enough to know something of the laws that ponies have about the dead. “Before you go digging up any grave, you need a special paper from the court, letting you do it. If you dig him up, there will have to be a new autopsy done. That all costs money. Money that you don’t have and won’t get.” Corey snapped, “I will have! See, his will been read and all. Law says he’s dead. If he ain’t in that box, the goat’s refund go to his estate! It been divided already and Mel she sign off on it. I ain’t so’s the residue, they calls it, go to me!” Grumpy pointed out, “This will really not look good on top of your current charges. They dragged you out of the funeral for repeatedly stabbing the deceased with a three inch hat pin. Now, here you are in the graveyard, trying to illegally exhume Rory’s body. You don’t need to do that at all.” “What you means I don’t gotta? See, if'n he’s in there, all I gotta do is take him away and refill the hole. Get the law to dig it up and they gonna force you to pay up that there refund!” An official sounding voice from behind him startled Cory! “Considering all that I have overheard in the last few minutes, Cory, you are going to jail! You are under arrest for conspiracy to abuse a corpse.” “Constable Crager! You doesn’t understand! See, he took a drug to fake death! He done it before, once! That was why I done poke him with that pin to wake him up!” As Constable Crager was leading him off, Grumpy and Bonnie overheard, “Well, now that we have cause, he will be autopsied.” Tunelessly whistling, Grumpy examined his copy of the Saddler Contract. Nodding confirmation, he showed Bonnie, “See, right here. 'Death to be quick and painless. To happen within a month of contract registry.’ Now if you check the registry date, it expires today. “Do you know what is funny, Bonnie? Cory was right. He did take a drug to fake death. It was working just like he planned it to, right up to his funeral. According to the Lich King, Lord of the Dead, who is a friend of mine, he was unconscious and unable to feel a thing when Cory’s pin stab in the neck to wake him up, pierced his spinal cord and killed him!” Bonnie whickered her amusement! “He was planning to cheat you and collect the refund plus ten percent! Cory was just following Rory’s plan! Both of them forgot one thing that even here in the graveyard, I have heard about your contracts. You have never had to give out a refund!” ~THE END~ > CRAWFEATHER! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- /////////////////////// TRIGGER WARNING : Multiple murders by ax, poison, and stabbing! Haunted mansion: You have to get those ghosts in there somehow, right? /////////////////////// Cory grinned meanly as he bounced the heavy bag from hoof to hoof while he offered, “Yah, I got the money that I owes you, Canter. It’s right here. Not gonna pay you, though. Not yet. I means, it is Nightmare Night. I will give you the money first thing in the morning. Just spend the night in the old Crawfeather place. Should be a piece of cake, after all, you don’t believe in ghosts, so you says.” “You are on, Cory. But make it 300, if you make me stay in there for the night!” “You got it, Canter, if you stay the night, I’ll make it 300 when you come out at dawn.” Now he was creeping down one of the empty hallways of the long abandoned mansion of Crawfeather. The darkness relieved only by the single candle held in Canter’s magic. Old furniture mostly covered by aged dust covers dotted the passage. He shivered, and it was not from the cold. He was wishing that he had not taken the dare to spend this Nightmare Night in the reputedly haunted Crawfeather mansion. Still, 300 golden bits was 300 golden bits. Canter remembered all too vividly the ghastly past of this place. The land that the mansion was built on was originally owned by the Bordens, back in the very earliest days of Ponyville, before there was any sort of formal town. After the Apple Clan had demonstrated the value of the land in the area for farming by creating one of the most productive apple orchards in Equestria, the land rush was on! The Bordens had claimed a big area and invested all that they had into clearing the land. It proved to be too stony for any sort of farm. It wasn’t just loose surface stone either. Rough upthrust sedimentary rock made up most of it. Clyde’s attempts to sell it to newcomers became a local joke. Clyde Borden put the land up in a card game and lost it to Jason Crawfeather. For weeks afterwards, Clyde crowed about how bad Jason was taken in by winning that worthless land. Jason and his family quietly ignored him and set industriously to work. It was not too long before the Crawfeather Quarry was supplying the good building stone for foundations and nicely split slates for stout, weatherproof roofs that the rapidly growing community of Ponyville needed. The fortune earned by the Crawfeathers and the resentment of the Bordens stoked the flames of the feud that followed. The orgy of murder was started by Poxy, one of Clyde’s grown colts. Swinging an ax, he charged into the Crawfeathers and some guests, who were dining on their plaza! By the time that it was over, Chance Crawfeather was carried up to his room, his life blood soaking the sheets and bolster of his bed as he died. Sweetbriar Crawfeather, Jason’s wife was laid out in the great room. One of the guests was a doctor who managed to stanch her wounds and saved her life. She would carry those scars to her grave. Poxy was caught before he could escape. Three strong unicorns from the quarry held him down while Jason brained him with his own ax. Pretending serious remorse for the actions of her brother, Lisset Borden came to serve the remaining Crawfeathers as a maid. She soon learned that all three of them, Jason, Sweetbriar, and their remaining filly, Sunblossom had a fondness for tomato soup. She served the unsuspecting family a tasty soup of tomatoes, basil, and a strong portion of poison hemlock. Sunblossom collapsed at the table. In spite of the pangs from her own stomach, Sweetbriar assisted Sunblossom up to her room. In her attempt to appear innocent, Lisset helped her too. Jason, in spite of the agony in his own innards, called for help from the house staff. It took them only moments to find the bottle that had contained the deadly concoction. They captured Lisset as she was coming down the stairs. Lisset was made to drink the soup that remained. She was dead before the ghastly wails of Sweetbriar announced the passing of Sunblossom. Both Jason and Sweetbriar were ill for weeks before they recovered from the effects of the hemlock. In one regard Sweetbriar never recovered. Seeing both of her foals murdered by ax and poison drove her into madness. She was known to haunt the rooms where they died and sought them about the mansion and their play yard. She even went down into the quarry seeking her “lost” foals. Most watched her with pity. Searching the play yard again, as the year was passing into autumn, Sweetbriar stumbled on something concealed from her sight by her madness. The headstones of her missing foals, Chance and Sunblossom, could no longer be denied. She avidly read what was on each stone. Instead of wailing her loss, her heart became harder than the stones of the Crawfeather Quarry. On a late autumn night with no moon to betray her, Sweetbriar sneaked down into the developing town of Ponyville. Unseen by any, she poured lamp oil over the front porch and back stoop of the Borden house and set it ablaze. Cunningly, she did not stay to see how her plot played out but repaired back to Crawfeather, avoiding the many foals out in fanciful costumes. Entering the house, she beheld the horrid sight of Clyde Borden Hacking at the dead body of her beloved Jason with a double bit ax! She seized the weapon from his grasp as he pulled back for another stroke! With the power of her rage and madness, she took Clyde’s head from his body in a single stroke! She dropped the ax, which stuck upright in the floor boards. In her struggles to drag the corpse of the assassin off of her husband’s body, her feet slipped in the spilled gore and she lost her footing! She fell on the ax and the razor sharp blade cut her throat! The house staff and their foals returned from their Nightmare Night, which had been made more exciting by the deadly house fire that had destroyed the Borden house and, apparently, all the remaining Bordens! The town’s newly appointed constables had far more to deal with than the usual Nightmare Night pranks. At least the feud would go no further. Neither Borden nor Crawfeather remained alive to carry it on. Canter’s reverie was broken by the creaking of hinges. His ears straining to hear more failed to spot any further sound. This was not the first such sound that he’d heard, either. He had traced the first ones to open windows upstairs and drafts making old doors swing. There was a creaking floorboard behind him! Whirling about in startlement he saw … Cory! “Just checking up on you, Canter. Realized that you are missing out on Nightmare Night partying. Brought you a little to make up for it. Here. Got you something to drink in the bottle and a bunch of candies.” “Nice of you, Cory.” As Canter took the bag, the knife that Cory was hiding behind it plunged up, through the bottom of his jaw and into his brain through the weak area of skull on the underside! Canter collapsed, dead before he hit the floor. Cory’s gloat of, “Looks like that money stays mine! You ain’t going to see the dawn …” was interrupted! Screaming foals in Nightmare Night costumes ran out of the old parlor and out into the night! The last one bucked the doors shut! The locking click of the latch was like a trump of doom! Cory was panting frantically and pounding on the door when the old handle turned. The opened door showed a brace of constables waiting to take him to jail. Canter looked about, sort of puzzled. Everything was sort of gray, in spite of which, he could see clearly. There was a pony before him, also gone gray, and a good thing. He had several huge wounds. At least he was not bleeding from them. Canter could see furniture through him. He invited, “Canter, right? I am Jason. Why don’t you come with me and meet the rest of the family?” > POSSESSION > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The large brown colt, Sawnax, was busy bullying another colt on the school’s playground. “You don’t hoof over your lunch money right now, I gonna pound you! You know that I will, too!” The stern voice of Miss Whinly, one of the teachers, cut him off. “No, Sawnax, you won’t! You will come with me to see Miss Cherrilee! If you don’t, I will drag you by the ear in front of all the other students! You know that I will, too.” Sawnax did know. It had happened before. Most unicorns would just grab and carry a miscreant off the playground. Not Miss Whinly. She had mastered the art of grabbing only an ear or other sensitive part to encourage compliance with her orders. Being dragged by an ear was not only painful, it was humiliating. He followed. Steaming but he followed. Shortly, he was resentfully following his father to the lumber and timbers yard owned by his family. Growling under his breath, he ruminated on the unfairness of it all! He’d been made to give back his whole day’s take and apologize to each of the ponies he’d milked for the cash! Now he had ten days suspension and he couldn’t even enjoy that! He was going to have to work! Sorting and loading out timbers was hard! Worse, his dad, Carver, caught him short loading a cart of timbers for young Houser! His rear still stinging, he took the lesson to heart! DON’T GET CAUGHT! Might not be the lesson that they all wanted him to get, but he got it! He grumped that Carver just did not see how it was to his advantage to short loads. Not only was he saving expensive timbers, customer had to come back and buy them again! Money in the till every way! How could his dad be so dim? There was a lull in timber loading. Instead of cleaning up or doing some other useful thing, Sawnax looked for a quiet spot to sneak in a rest. He was awakened by a snarl that sounded exactly like his dad in a towering rage! “What are you doing here? You should be doing something useful to make bits for our business!” Sawnax looked up insolently. “Says who? You ain’t my dad!” “What makes you think so?” “First I'da known of him was the strap! Then he’d yap at me! Besides, he’d never say OUR business! The Yard’s HIS and he never lets me forget it!” Sawnax chuckled mirthlessly, “If you ARE my dad, mom really was the whore that dad always accused her of being! And I am pretty sure that she wasn’t!” The being sort of relaxed and sat in front of Sawnax. It no longer looked like any sort of pony that Sawnax had ever heard of or seen. His fur was almost scale-like. His jaws, easily as long as any pony’s, had large piercing and rending fangs along its length, easily seen because the gaping mouth opened almost all the way back to the joint. A pair of nearly straight horns jutted up from the top of his skull and his long and pointed ears projected out just below them. His eyes were simply black. No white, iris or pupil. Instead of a mane, he had spikes or spines of some sort that marched down his neck and on down his back to his tail. That appendage was long, flexible, and covered with spikes on the top and sides Every part of his body was gaunt, almost starved looking. Much more amicably, it said, “Good job, spotting me like that. I am from Tartaros and I have an offer for you. Let me use your body and I will use it to get you even with all those fools who are tormenting you.” Sawnax scrunched up his face as he thought about it. “Why not just go mess with them, yourself? Why do you need me?” The demon responded, “It is a matter of good, bad, and evil. I can’t touch the good, in fact, only a very few of them can even see me. The bad, like you, I can manifest to, but unless they consent, I can’t touch. The evil, I or one of my many associates, already own.” Sawnax snorted, “That’s why you didn’t hit me with the strap! You couldn’t!” Calm as the air before the storm, the monster replied, “Correct. However, the loophole is simple. You, rather your body CAN do things to them all. Your dad, with his strap and lectures about honesty, as if that meant anything besides lost bits. Miss Whinly, with her nasty ear pinching and dragging you away from the other foals that you were collecting lunch money from. Miss Cherrilee, with her pretense of disappointment while she gleefully chucks you out of school to keep you from collecting what you are due. Revenge. That is what I can give you if you let me use your body.” Sawnax paused. He did not want to get even. He wanted to get ahead. “Revenge is all well and good but that ain’t enough for me. I don’t want to just get even. I wants to be so far ahead that they can’t see nothing but the dust of my heels.” The demon did not even miss a beat. “Not a problem. I have to admit that I like your style. That means that we need to sort out what you mean, exactly. Wealth? Power? Strike them down physically?” Sawnax rubbed his jaw with a hoof as he thought about it. Before this, all his ideas of getting the better of the ones he was having so much trouble with had been pretty nebulous. Totally short on details, actually. He looked about him and saw the yard for what it could be, for the first time. Money. Those timbers were effectively cash. He would need to learn how to actually run the yard, where to get the timbers. Money from it would put him in the position to get on the school board. From there, he could crush both Cherrilee and Whinly. It would let him track down and pull money out of his schoolyard marks, too. Not to mention, his dad would never beat him again. He nodded. “OK, here is how I want it to go down.” He filled the demon in all that he had thought out. The creature of Tartaros nodded thoughtfully. “A long term contract. Your plan will take years to fulfill but it has the added advantage of making many ponies miserable and easily turned to badness and evil. I like it. With your permission, may I enter your body to begin this revenge?” Sawnax asked in surprise, “What? No contracts? No signing in blood or other fancy rituals?” The creature shrugged. “We can, if you like. Whatever you want. None of it is necessary, though. All that I need is your explicit permission to enter your body. We are agreed on what you wish. I can start to fulfill it as soon as I am in you. It is that simple.” Sawnax nodded gravely. “I see. OK, let’s do it. You enter me and we begin my revenge.” As the demon turned to a smoke and flowed around Sawnax, he felt an almost sensuous sensation. The smoke soaking in felt like sliding into a comfortable, warm bath. It was the last pleasant thing that the young Sawnax felt. His body convulsing! Horrid heaving was bringing up thick greenish goo! Every inch of his body burned like he was being dipped into flames! He screamed! Blubbering, he demanded, “What are you doing? We had a deal!” The demon inside him gloated, “Isn’t it obvious? I am killing you. Slowly. Very slowly. I adore the taste of your pain.” With a sinister chuckle it added, “Deal? Really? What am I? Good or Evil?” Whining, Sawnax returned, “Evil. You are a monster!” With high good humor, the beast within snorted, “Correct! I am Evil! Our deal? My promise? I lied! Really now, what did you expect? Honesty? Honor? What part of Evil do you not understand? Of course I lied.” Sawnax could do nothing but scream and cry in his agony. His screams brought Carver and his work crew. Carver called over Sawnax’s screams, “What’s the matter? We gotta get you out of there!” More screams and crying were his father’s only answer. His father reached into the recess where Sawnax was hidden. His face screwed up, lips pulling back and eyes squinting in distaste. “Lyle! Go get me a priest or preacher of Celestia or the Twins. Whatever is happening in there ain’t something for a doctor. Felt like I was reaching into a load of spiders or something crawly like that.” Lyle paused long enough to ask, “You mean like that Hortimer feller? High Priest of Celestia, so he says.” “NO! You see what Celestia herself says about him and his church? Go get that new guy over at the Assembly of the Twins, what’s his name? Smallflower, I think.” Lyle took off at a run on his errand. Shortly he returned, followed by a spare white pegasus with a flat black hat. The pegasus trotted up and pointed to Sawnax’s hiding place. “He is in there? I shall see what is to be done.” He reached cautiously into the nook. Pulling his hoof back, he said courteously, “Please give me a name to call you.” A deep voice like a load of rock rumbling down an incline replied, “Why should I? PLEASE? Are you trying to make me laugh?” “No. I am Reverend Smallflower. Do not mistake courtesy for weakness. If I do not have a name to call you by, then with the Authority of the Twins, Celestia and Luna and their Mother/Creator Skyglow, I shall cast you out and nameless you shall be destroyed. I would rather not do that.” Clearly shaken, the rumbling voice demanded, “Why not? You know that I am an Evil being.” “I do indeed. I also now that Mother Skyglow created you. Destroying you is to destroy a part of Her Creation. A name, please.” “Call me Claficus. What would you have of me?” “Bring forth young Sawnax and come with me to the Assembly to deal with this possession in a reasonable manner.” “You would take me to your Holy place?” “Over the door of the Assembly it says in plain words, All Are Welcome. That includes you. All that live are Creations of Skyglow and ruled by the Twins. If you can think of a greater consecration than that, I should like to know of it.” “You are a strange one. You have not a bell, book or candle, yet I feel in you a greater power than those symbols confer. I will come with you, Reverend Smallflower.” Sawnax emerged from his hiding place. His steps uncertain and legs shaky. His eyes pleading pitifully. He was surrounded by an aura that seemed like what disgust and vileness might appear if they were a visible miasma. As Sawnax was following Reverend Smallflower up the streets of Ponyville, Revered Smallflower commented, “Claficus, you can stop tormenting Sawnax for now.” Puzzled, the gravely voice of Claficus asked, “For now? Only for now?” “Indeed.” Sawnax’s steps became easier and suddenly sure again. It was not long before they came to the Assembly building. It was a rambling one story structure set about with newly planted saplings. Gesturing to them, Reverend Smallflower pointed out, “Given a few years and some minor tending, these saplings will grow to give us good shade. There is a principle there that applies to life as well.” Passing under the sign over the door that proclaimed, ALL ARE WELCOME, the demon looked about in wonder. “Amazing. You really mean that! I can feel the binding to do no harm to any here, but I am not forbidden to come in.” Reverend Smallflower replied, “I told you that. This is a house of peace. So long as you observe that, you are welcome. My office is back here, through this door.” The office, like its occupant, it was plain, though comfortable. Hospitably, Reverend Smallflower offered, “Since you are occupying a physical body at present, would you like some tea while we sort this out?” The demon blinked Sawnax’s eyes in surprise. “That would be very nice. Two sugars, no cream, please.” The Reverend puttered about, fixing and steeping the tea. After he poured and both had a chance to sip some, he stated, “You being in Sawnax is breaking the rules about possession. You know it and so do I.” Claficus retorted, “I can’t be here without invitation and you know it! This is a rotten brat and you know that too!” “Right, Claficus. Unfortunately, Sawnax being bad does not excuse you taking him like this. You should have waited. He has to be able to understand what he is getting into. Basic freewill issue. He cannot make a true freewill choice if he is too young to understand it.” “He still invited me into his body! That makes it MINE.” Reverend Smallflower sipped at his tea before responding, “True. However, this was poorly done, even for one of your sort. Remember those trees out front? It takes time and nurture for them to grow. “I have the simple power to cast you out. That could easily harm both you and Sawnax. I would rather not. What I propose is simple. We shall set it in writing, which if you sign it, even by this use name that you have given me, you will be bound to its terms. “You leave Sawnax for now due to his age. For taking him too young, you grant him twenty years grace time. If he should change his ways and become even as good as an average pony, you relinquish your claim. If he does not, at the end of his grace period, take him quickly and with a minimum of pain.” The Reverend gave an expressive shrug. “AFTER you take him, do as you will.” Sawnax’s lips curled into a smile. “What about, um, tending the tree? Will you be trying to steer him away from me?” The Reverend smiled in return. “Freewill. NEITHER of us will do anything to alter his life course unless he comes to us without coercion. Let him decide by his own choices.” Claficus sat and thought it through slowly. “Deal. Draw it up and I will sign it. Um, can I hang about in this body long enough for another cup of tea?” Reverend Smallflower paused in his writing and poured. When both had finished sipping their tea, they signed. Claficus withdrew from Sawnax, who promptly bolted from the room and ran back towards the safety of his dad’s lumberyard. The miasma that was Claficus looked about the office and commented, “You really do mean that welcome. Mind if I try to see if I can manage some more tea?” Quietly pouring, Reverend Smallflower said, “Of course. Take your time and feel free to return so long as you harm none under this roof. Who knows? Even you might choose to become good. That is what freewill is all about.” > A BONNIE DAY > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Junea laid her mostly skeletal head on the dried stiff skin of Zom’s shoulder as she followed their foster filly, Bonnie with eyes that, though sunken allowed her to see past the crypt’s door. “Zom, stillness of my heart, it worries me when our dear Bonnie Bones goes out under Celestia’s sun.” “I share your concern, Junea, breath of my death. She is not so alone as you fear. Celestia may be high in the sky but she shares it with the Nightmare. The Moon is out also to watch over our mortal child.” Admiring Bonnie’s spirit, that had her out under such adverse conditions just so that she could graze the grass smooth and level over the grave of her friend as a surprise when he arose after the night had fallen, the pair watched her with some concern. It was always possible that some well meaning mortal might try to steal away the nearly grown filly that they loved and had raised. They need not have worried. The cloud white filly with her black mane and tail looked up from her task. Her eyes narrowed and she gave a near silent snort of anger. With no sound at all, she floated up, ghost-like and took a place in a tree overlooking the graves, tombs and crypts of her family and friends. They came all too soon. They were watching all around them, every direction but up. Morgripe and his two buddies, who had tried before to vandalize the graveyard were back, with pry bars, hammers and a small bucket of red paint. They were chatting among themselves cheerfully. “Should'a thought of this before! Come in daylight, day before Nightmare Night!” “They ain’t gonna find out what we done until tomorrow, if then!” “They’ll think it was done at night! All we gotta do is be with other ponies all night! It is perfect!” Bonnie had heard and seen enough. Using the stealth that she had learned from the many ghosts of the Ponyville graveyard, she floated out of her tree. Being mindful that Celestia’s treacherous sun could cast a shadow that would give her away, she chose her position with care and simply dropped! She added the power of straightening her forelegs to the strong double buck that lifted Morgripe off his hooves and face planted him in the grass! His paint splashed all over him as his hammer and pry went flying their separate ways! As her hindquarters landed from kicking Morgripe, she reared and struck with both forehooves at the neck to shoulder joint of his nearest accomplice! Her strike drove him from his hooves too! The third pony simply ran! The terrified yellow pony left meadow muffins in his wake as he streaked for the gate! Morgripe was trying to rise, so she casually hoof struck his side, rolling him belly up. She gave his remaining accomplice a steely eye as he got to his hooves. He reached for his fallen tools and she silently shook her head no. Shivering, he left. Bonnie leaned down to the fallen Morgripe and hissed in his ear, “This is the fourth time that you have tried to disturb this graveyard. This is your last time! No pony will ever find you or any trace of you.” He looked up and saw no trace of mercy or pity in her eyes. Shivering, he quaked, “What are you going to do to me?” His eyes caught the back wall of the cemetery and he whined, “What happened to the wall? It is all tumble down and growed with moss.” Bonnie glared at him. “You are going to a Nightmare party. The wall between the waking world and the border of Nightmare is now down.” Just then, a lovely gray mare’s head lifted over the tumbled stone of the wall. “You called, Bonnie?” she asked. “Yes, Flowering Ash, I did. This was it’s fourth time trying to desecrate those who rest under Celestia’s sun. I thought that you might want it for refreshments at the party.” “How thoughtful of you, dear. Are you coming, this year?” “I am. Reverend Smallflower gave me some toys and games for the Forgotten Foals. Do you have refreshments for me?” As the lamia’s huge serpent’s body slithered over the wall, she replied, “With Canbe living among us, yes, Bonnie dear. There is plenty for mortals too.” Morgripe’s eyes bugged out as he saw Flowering Ash, a lovely mare back to the end of her ribs and enormous serpent from there on back. He drew in a breath to scream. Flowering Ash punched his belly, driving the wind from him. She locked a strong foreleg about his neck and cast a coil about his body and slithered back across the wall. Bonnie quietly gathered up the fallen tools and retired to the crypt that she shared with the liches Zom and Junea. Soon the authorities arrived. They did find the splash of red paint that the two miscreants had described, but that was all. They looked about in a reasonably careful way but found no sign of the missing Morgripe. They did not really look too hard. Nobody really cared much for him. Always in trouble of some sort. If he really was gone, good riddance. Shortly after the police ponies left, a spare white pegasus wearing a flat black hat knocked politely at the door to Zom and Junea’s crypt. Bonnie poked her head out through the still sealed panels of the door. “Reverend Smallflower! Are you coming to Nightmare Night with us?” He ducked his head. “I am indeed. I have brought a few more refreshments for us of a mortal persuasion. Shall we go?” Together, they stepped across the fallen wall to the borderlands of Nightmare to celebrate with their friends, the Ancient Ones and the Forgotten Foals. > QUIET NIGHTMARE NIGHT FOR BONNIE BONES > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The cloud white mare with a black mane and tail, wearing a seriously cute witch costume, complete with a hand made twig broom, sat comfortably behind a small folding table. There was a nicely filled foal bowl on the table and up on the gate pillars of the Ponyville cemetery she had two fair sized jack o lanterns. A pair of “unicorn skulls” hung from loops of chain set over the pillars. Happy Nightmare Nighting foals were coming by and taking some of the nice Sweet Spot candy treats from the bowl. She recognized the adult escort of the next group to come by. She smiled and said, “That is a great costume, Daph! I would swear that you were a Free Carlene of the House of Red Hoof! What are you doing escorting foals in your regular livery?” Daphne Crager, Free Carlene of Red Hoof, answered, “I am escorting the foals of those that live in or close by to the Everfree. When we are done with our rounds, my Lord and Lady, Baron Drandale and Duchess Heather Bloom shall have them a party. “And what are you doing here in front of the Cemetery, Bonnie Bones?” Bonnie grinned and replied, “Two things at once. I am keeping a watch to keep out those of Morgripe’s stripe and I am giving out treats to foals at the same time.” Daphne asked, “Did they ever find any trace of Morgripe? I understand that he disappeared there in the graveyard, where he had gone to do some vandalism.” Bonnie gave a lopsided smile. “That was his fourth try at damaging the graves and monuments in there. No, the searchers never found any trace of him. I am pretty sure that he is not in there anywhere.” Daphne replied, “To be honest, I do hope that he came to a bad end. That was a colt who was naught but trouble. My foals seem to have finished raiding your bowl. If you’ve no other place to go, come up to the Red Hoof Nightmare Night party.” “I do thank you, Daph, but there is another party that I am going to this night.” Shortly, all of her candies given out, Bonnie folded her table and packed away her bowl. She waited until none could see and mounted her broom. Floating up as easily as any of the ghosts who had taught her to fly and pass through solid things, she reached down and took the unicorn skulls by their chains and lifted them from the gate pillars. Hanging them from the broom, she flew to the back of the cemetery. Under the light of the Moon of Nightmare, she sailed past the tumble down, moss grown wall between the world and the borderlands of Nightmare to party with many ghosts and nightmarish beings that were her friends. > BONNIE BONES’ ERRAND > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The cloudy white mare with the black mane and tail trotted quietly up the street, minding her own business. Her shopping errand, this last day before Nightmare Night was interrupted by a pair of stout ponies. “There you is! You is the pony what ambushed us in the cemetery, two years gone! What did you do to Morgripe?” Bonnie looked at him and shrugged. “Aside from knocking him down off his hooves and gathering up the tools that you dropped, I did not do anything to him.” “Then where is he?” “I do not know. He was always a piece of shit. Likely he still is, wherever he is.” One raised a hoof menacingly. “Your errand just changed! Chaz and me gonna beat the crap out of you! You going to the Emergency Room at Ponyville General! Right, Chaz?” “Right, Gabe!” Bonnie did not wait. She unloaded a powerhouse of a double buck, blasting Chaz half way across the street! As she dropped to her hind hooves, she continued down almost to crouching and uncoiled directly at Gabe, striking his shoulder full force with both forehooves! Gabe found himself flat, Bonnie’s right foreleg pressing down firmly on the side of his neck, near the ear! He flopped helplessly about three times as her sleeper hold took effect. Chaz was calling, “Gabe! What she do to you?” and limping up to his still fallen buddy. Constable Crager arrived at just about the same time. “What have you done to Gabe? Not that he didn’t deserve it, mind you. I did see this happen but was across the way and could not stop them in time.” Bonnie looked down at Gabe with disgust. “I put pressure on an artery going to his brain. He passed out. He will wake up in about ten or fifteen minutes. These two were part of Morgripe’s gang. They tried to vandalize the cemetery four years in a row. They failed.” Chaz promptly snapped, “You done murdered Morgripe! We seen it! You dropped out'n the sky and bucked him and Gabe down! We run to get the police for your unprovoked assault! When we get back, Morgripe and our tools was all gone! Just his spilled paint was all that was left!” Bonnie rolled her eyes expressively as she nodded sarcastically. “RIIIGHT. PAINT in the CEMETERY? Dropped out of the sky on you? Tell me, constable Crager, can unicorns fly?” He looked about alertly before replying, “Not unless the rules of magic have taken a sudden change! Four pegassi with a net can carry one unicorn or other pony up. Two or three unicorns can lift one up for a little, but they will get tired pretty fast.” Bonnie pointed at her tiny, stunted bit of horn and pointed out, “I have trouble just picking up simple tools and the like. So, I think that you can dismiss that part of what he just told you, right?” He nodded reasonably, while putting manacles on the fallen Gabe. “So, you didn’t fall from the sky. Did you beat them up?” Sighing, she sat and replied, “Yes. I was cleaning tombs. They walked right past me, bragging about how clever they were. Going to bust things up and splash paint on sandstone monuments, where it would be super hard to clean up.” She shook her head, clearly disgusted. “I landed in their midst so that I could do a buck and strike like you just saw me do. I flattened Morgripe and knocked down Gabe. Chaz, there, like the hero that he is, ran off, abandoning his buddies. Gabe got up and ran off too. Morgripe was just lying there, blubbering. I picked up all three of their hammers and the prybars that they dropped. “Morgripe’s paint was all spilled, but I took his brush anyway. Went to a party and later gave the tools to Roe’s wife, Molly to use in their wood lot business. When I came back from the party, I looked. Morgripe was gone. “He has stayed gone and good riddance.” Constable Crager nodded and turned to Chaz. He touched his truncheon suggestively and asked, “May I manacle you, or must I use force?” Chaz rubbed the back of his head at an old memory and replied, “No, sir. I won’t resist. Once was enough.” While Chaz was submitting to being shackled, Gabe began to stir. Constable Crager returned his attention to Bonnie. “So, Miss Bones, if I draw up your statement to add to the Morgripe case file, will you sign it?” Bonnie nodded calmly. “Sure, Constable Crager. Just put it in the cemetery mail box and give me a return envelope. Duchess Red Hoof lets me use it for an address because where I actually stay doesn’t have mail service. I am there most nights anyway, so it works real well for when you need to contact me.” He nodded, “I will do that,” and escorted the two miscreants away. Bonnie returned to her shopping expedition. It took her several stores to get all that she wanted. Returning to the cemetery, she waited patiently by the solid stone back wall as the sun set. It was not long before the Nightmare rose. By Her moonlight the wall became a moss grown tumble down. Easily crossing into the Borderland of Nightmare, Bonnie happily called ahead, “Guys! Flowering Ash! Canbe! Look what I got for our Nightmare Night party!” The mortal Canbe looked up from where he was helping his wife, the lamia Flowering Ash, to set up some tables and ducking tubs. “Bonnie! We told you, we have arraigned for refreshments this Nightmare Night! What did you get?" Laughing, Bonnie began to unpack her bulging saddlebags. “No refreshments! I got us the tackiest Nightmare Night decorations that I could find!” Zombies and liches, giggling as well as they could at the joke of it, helped to string black and orange streamers, hang fake spiderwebs and put up cheap cardboard skeletons! Real bats were flying about, having a great time making the phony rubber ones bounce on their elastic strings! Cheap plaster skulls and phony bones sat about the party glade, on the tombstones between the mausoleums of the Ancient Ones and fake rubber spiders decorated the simple grave markers of the Forgotten Foals. Perfectly real ghosts were busy making cheap paper ones flutter in a non existent breeze! Roe, a light tan wish granting deer, and Molly, his wife, with their matching wedding bands around their left forelegs, trotted out of the basement of his candy shop in Ponyville. Her two foals, Mort and Sis, nearly grown now, trotted confidently along behind them. Seeing the many silly decorations, they couldn’t help but giggle! The foals made a beeline for a table made from a flat topped coffin of polished black wood held up by supports. The youngsters happily laid out cakes, fried twists, fruit chunks and piles of candies. They filled a big punch bowl and set out cups. They dumped a big bag of apples into the ducking tub. Roe, his horns sparkling with magic, brought a securely chained, but struggling pony through the passage to the Borderland of Nightmare that was his shop’s basement. Flowering Ash, the powerful lamia, snake bodied from her middle down, took him and secured him to the larger feasting table. She looked up at Roe, smiling around her fangs, “I remain amazed at how many foolish ponies think that it’s a good idea to rob a candy store on Nightmare Night! At least, it give us a steady supply of party refreshment!” Roe smiled back. “I give them every chance to back out of trying to rob that innocent little tan unicorn that I look to be. It is not my fault that they never figure out that it is better to be good ponies.” As the assorted Beings of Nightmare began to gather about their big table, Bonnie, Canbe, Molly, Sis and Mort gathered about their snack coffin for mortals. Sis and Mort leaned calmly against Bonnie and said, “Thanks for helping us through those first few Nightmare Night parties up at Roe’s place. You were a big help in getting us to accept our friends for who and what they are.” Bonnie, helping herself to a plate of fruit skewers, frosted cake and some candies, replied, “Thanks. I am glad that you like my family, too.” > THE MORGRIPE REPORT > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The small cloud white mare with black mane and tail was industriously clipping the grass and weeds around the tomb of Colonel Goodheart. The marble of his monument was softly lighted by the moon overhead. Done with her weed and grass tending, she raked up the trimmings into a tidy pile, ready to gather them up and take to the tomb that she shared with the liches Zom and Junea. Even though she had heard it before, she listened politely to the Colonel’s ghost as he talked to her while she worked, “Kind of ironic, you know, Bonnie, my mare. I fought in two Prance Incursion Wars and didn’t get a scratch. Home on leave, despite my name of Goodheart, it was my bad heart that got me! Heart attack and here I am! “I am so glad that a mortal like you lives among us who have passed on. It helps to have somepony like you to chat with.” Bonnie smiled, “It works both ways, Colonel Goodheart. I was abandoned as a small filly because of my stunted horn. If Zom and Junea had not taken me into their tomb, I wold have died that first winter. Since then, you ghosts and liches have taught me so many neat and useful things!” Bonnie was just reaching her limited horn magic down to bind her tasty grass and weed clippings into a shock to take back to the tomb that she lived in, when a pony came charging up and careless hooves scattered her dinner! The intruder announced breathlessly, “I am Melissa Newsnose, reporter for the Ponyville’s Dark Secrets magazine! I am here to demand . . .” Very irritated, Bonnie did not wait to hear more. She pulled out a whistle and blew three sharp blasts! Pulled up short, Melissa, now irritated herself, snapped, “What was that for?” Bonnie replied angrily, “The police! It is after visiting hours and this cemetery is CLOSED! Whoever you are, whatever your errand, you will be arrested for trespassing.” Drawing herself up haughtily, Melissa replied, “I am a REPORTER working on a story. You have no right to …” Return police whistles cut her off. There were nightwatch lanterns visible at the cemetery gate. Official voices called, “Miss Bones! Where are you? What is happening?” Bonnie called back, “Over here by the Goodheart monument! We have an after hours trespasser!” The police ponies converged on the scene. One addressed the reporter, “Melissa, I am afraid that Bonnie is correct. You have no business here at this hour.” Argumentatively she retorted, “Then what is SHE doing here?” Bonnie waited while the officer replied in a mild tone, “Miss Bones works here as a caretaker, usually in the evenings or after dark. She tends the graves and keeps the grass trimmed.” Bonnie agreed, “And part of my payment from Duchess Red Hoof is the right to graze the trimmings.” She pointed to Melissa and growled, “Clumsy hoof there jurt ruined my dinner trimmings. I had some nice dandelion flowers and greens and a nice thistle bloom but she trampled them all and even scattered my grass.” Melissa drawled, “Sorry, I am sure. You can just go pick some more. I am here to solve the Morgripe murder case.” Bonnie looked up with interest. “Oh, have you found some shred of proof that he was murdered? Something not in the police reports on the case? Last that I heard, he was listed as a missing pony.” One of the police ponies nodded. “That’s what we concluded. I was on that case. Bonnie here, stopped Morgripe, Gabe and Chaz from vandalism by knocking both Morgripe and Gabe flat. Chaz ran and brought us. He was spouting all sorts of nonsense about Miss Bones dropping from the sky on them! Gabe got up and ran too, abandoning Morgripe. It appears that after Miss Bones picked up their tools and paint brush, that Morgripe got up and left on his own.” Melissa pounced on that. “How do you know that she did not kill him, then?” He replied, “Easy. The grass and sod where he and Gabe fell made excellent impressions. Besides, the spilled paint marked the spot beautifully. If he was killed, his body would have to have been dragged off or carried. She is too small to have carried him. Likewise, there were no deep tracks made by a heavily laden pony and no drag marks. There were some hoof prints going back to the gravel path. QED, he left on his own. “I suspect that he finally actually saw Miss Bones during and after she flattened him. He was always liar and braggart. For years he and his buddies were saying that there was a monster in the graveyard. I think that he realized that his monster was a filly way smaller than any of them and knew that the truth would get out. Embarrassed, he just sneaked off and left town.” Melissa snorted, “I saw the police reports. Very unsatisfactory. How could such a little wither horn as her possibly take on three ponies, all bigger than she is?” Before Bonnie could respond to the insult, one of the police ponies cut in, “That last entry in the Morgripe file was made by constable Crager. That report came about because he saw Bonnie get ambushed by both Gabe and Chaz. “She flattened both of them and put a sleeper hold on Gabe, knocking him out for ten minutes or so. Her involvement in the Morgripe case came up in conversation. She then provided a statement which gave us better detail but changed nothing basic.” Bonnie acidly pointed out, “This LITTLE WITHER HORN will be happy to demonstrate how I flattened those evil ponies. All that you need to do is agree that I am not responsible for your injuries in front of these nice police ponies. Once you do that, the demonstration can begin at once.” Melissa turned to the police ponies and demanded, “Are you going to just stand there and let her threaten me like that?” Calmly one of them replied, “Ma'am, you have been nothing but rude and unpleasant since we arrived. We were called to deal with your trespassing in the cemetery after closing, which IS a crime, if a minor one. “Bonnie did not threaten you, either. You asked a question that was very rude and contained a direct personal insult. She offered to answer it by a physical demonstration, which I gather, from your response you have refused.” The other put in, “Bonnie has been most forbearing in not demanding your immediate arrest and removal. However, that is why we responded and what we must do. Will you come to the station house, or must we put you in manacles?” As they led her off, Bonnie heard Melissa expostulating, “But I am trying solve the Morgripe murder case! She is a witness!” Bonnie turned back to her work and found a pleasant surprise. The ghost of the Colonel had been busy. All of her clippings had been regathered. That was not all. There was a nice sized helping of dandelion flowers to replace the few that had been ruined by Melissa’s hooves. The old warrior’s ghost smiled down at her from where he was sitting on top of his tomb. “Gathering that together and finding you more dandelions was pretty tiring, Bonnie.” She smiled up at him and, gathering her meal with her weak magic, ghost floated up to his level to eat it. Her legs folded comfortably under her, as if she were resting on a nice cushion, instead of empty air, offered, “I know that was hard for you do do, Colonel. Here, even if you can’t eat any of it, at least you can share the scent of it.” They completed her meal in companionable silence. Taking her leave politely, Bonnie went home, walking into Zom and Junea’s crypt through the door. As usual, she did not bother to open it, but simply passed through the solid oaken panels like she had been taught to do so long ago by the many ghosts who shared the graveyard with her adoptive parents, Zom and Junea. There were other liches of several sorts and a few vampires too. They all had good things to add to the education of an abandoned foal like she was. She settled herself on the empty coffin shelf that had been her place since Zom and Junea took her in. The attentive liches that she loved so much, carefully tucked her in before retiring to their coffins to wait out the passing of the day. The next evening they arose as usual and shared a quiet breakfast. Technically, only Bonnie ate the fried hay twists but her loving liches took pleasure and emotional nourishment from watching her eat. Since ponies rarely look UP, Bonnie floated ghost-like, up and put her head through the stone roof of the crypt to look about. The way being clear, she floated over to the gravel path and trotted quietly towards the gate. She floated up to peer cautiously over the wall. Sure enough, there was Melissa Newsnose sitting in the omnibus weather shelter, keeping an eye on the cemetery mail box. Bonnie went to the corner of the cemetery closest to the forest and emerged from the brush there, making it appear that she had come out of the Everfree. She trotted up the street to check the mailbox. She was removing a letter and a note when Melissa spoke up. “I wish to apologize for my behavior last evening, Miss Bones. Would you be willing to show me where you encountered Morgipe, Gabe and Chaz? I really am working on a story for Ponyville’s Dark Secrets magazine.” Bonnie chuckled, “You are new there, aren’t you? Your first story? Right?” Melissa nodded as she got up. “Yes, it is. They told me that it was an important unsolved case. Why do you ask?” Bonnie produced a key and opened the gate for them to enter. “Because PDS pulls that on just about all of their new staffers. Seeing how fast they catch on that is a missing pony case rather than a murder is part of their testing new hires.” “You just blew their game, didn’t you?” “Why not? They aren’t paying me. Besides, you can still make a good story out of his disappearance.” Carefully locking the gate behind them, Bonnie escorted Melissa into the cemetery. Shortly she pointed, “I was doing some mortar repair on that tomb. Since I was behind it and down almost at ground level with the work, they did not notice me.” Bonnie crouched behind the tomb. “When I heard enough of their plans, I jumped from here to the middle of the path, right between them and gave Gabe a double buck. I followed that with a forehoof strike at Morgripe. Chaz ran like a rabbit. While I was gathering up their hammers and prybars, Gabe got up and ran too. Morgripe just lay there blubbering. I got his paint brush. “Since I had seen him, his tools were gone and his paint all spilled, I figured that he wasn’t going to do anything more and left to get ready for a Nightmare Night party. When I got back from that, it was nearly dawn. I looked, but there was no sign of him or any vandalism. Went home.” Melissa looked everything over carefully. “I see. That was quite a jump, but nothing impossible. No wonder they thought that you fell from the sky!” She made copious notes. “I have two more things to ask, Bonnie. First, what do you think happened to Morgripe? And second, would you please look over my story draft before I turn it in?” As they were approaching the cemetery gate, Bonnie gave a cheerful laugh. “Sure. I will be happy to look over your story. “As for that other one, I see three possibilities. First, it was after the Nightmare rose and was sharing the sky with Celestia. At such times, according to witches, the border between here and Nightmare Lands is thin. He may have wandered into Nightmare and vanished from this Equestria. Second, he may have gone into the Everfree, which is close by, to try finding my place to get even for being stopped. He was like that. Bad things can happen to any pony who does not know what he is about in the Everfree. Third, the police version. He left out of shame when he found out that the monster that he was talking up for years was a filly, smaller than any of them.” As Bonnie was re locking the gate, Melissa said, “The Everfree angle was not in the police reports. Thanks. I think that I will use that one. As for your first one, do you really believe that?” Bonnie gave another giggle. “I spend most of my time in a graveyard. I just had to say it!” > INVITATION TO A FEAST > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The cloud white mare with a black mane and a stunted horn peered silently over the wall where she was hidden by the foliage of the tree. She watched the omnibus pull up and let off a passenger. While the omnibus pulled away, the sienna furred and teal maned and tailed mare strolled over and put a thick envelope into the cemetery mailbox and then sat to wait in the shelter of the omnibus stop, her breath making clouds of steam in the chill late October air. The cloud white mare nodded quietly to herself and retreated behind the high wall. Shortly she emerged from the brush at the far end of the cemetery wall, as if she had come around the graveyard’s wall from the Everfree forest behind it. Trotting confidently up to the mailbox, she removed one letter and the package. Turning to unlock the gate, she pretended surprise as she saw the mare in the shelter. “Melissa! I have your package here. What are you here for? Are you waiting for the next omnibus? It is too late, I am afraid. The last one has gone by.” “I know, Bonnie. I was on it. I promised to let you see my Morgripe story before I gave it to Ponyville’s Dark Secrets magazine. I know that you are a very private pony so I did not want to write anything that you would not want me to. I thought that we could go over the story together, if you have the time and do not mind.” As she unlocked the cemetery gate, Bonnie replied, “Thank you, that is very considerate of you. I do have the time. We can use the cemetery office to read it. It has candle lanterns and is out of the chill as well as away from any sort of breezes.” The gate locked behind them and the office door being keyed open, Melissa asked, “Bonnie, are you some sort of ghost or vampony? I am afraid that I did a bit of snooping. You have left tracks from that smaller side gate out to the street so that it sort of looks like you came out of the Everfree. Thing is, you did not disturb any of the leaves or grass back from the gate. Besides, before you came to meet me tonight, I saw you looking over the wall, up high, where the leafy branch gave you some cover. When we came in, I looked. That branch is far too small to have supported you.” Bonnie looked back through the cemetery office door. “No, Melissa, I am not a ghost or any other supernatural being. As you did notice, I am a very private pony. I was abandoned as a small foal, I guess because of my stunted horn, which you have noticed. “This is for you alone. You may not write it up for or in a story. I was cast off not far from here, in the Everfree. Whoever my blood parents were, they meant for me to die there. I was lucky. “You do not have to believe this part. I was tiny and you can put it down to that, if you wish. I was found by a deer.” Melissa chuckled, “A deer? Really? Branching horns and all that?” Bonnie nodded seriously, “Exactly. He put me with a loving couple who never had a chance to have the foal that they wanted. They raised me under the Nightmare. They knew other friends who also live under the Nightmare and those friends taught me some of their arts. That is all that I will say of it.” To Bonnie’s surprise, Melissa nodded slowly and agreed, “I will not say or write about it. Protecting your privacy is why I am here now. You prefer to work at night because you were raised under the Nightmare, right?” Bonnie nodded. She shut the door, chuckling at the memory of how the CMC had taught her what hinges and locks were for. She blew dust off of an old but still sturdy desk and set the envelope with Melissa’s story on it. She casually floated up to the candle lanterns hanging overhead and lit them each by a tiny spark of blue from her small horn. As she drifted down, Bonnie noticed Melissa’s drop jawed expression. As she pulled up a padded seating bench, Bonnie pointed out, “That is something else that you do not mention, OK?” Melissa nodded, ruminating, “So that is how you looked over the wall. You can fly.” Laying out Melissa’s manuscript, Bonnie replied, “Not precisely. I float. There is a difference.” Bonnie cut off further conversation by immersing herself in Melissa’s story of Morgripe’s disappearance. She turned the pages eagerly, chuckling frequently! Eyes alight, Bonnie exclaimed, “You went into the Morgripe gang’s earlier attacks on the graveyard! Those were so funny! They really set the stage for your Everfree Forest theory of his disappearance! You handled my involvement beautifully. Thank you.” Melissa cocked her head and stared at Bonnie as she replaced the manuscript in its envelope. “There was more to your involvement with the vandals than you’ve let on, wasn’t there, Bonnie?” “Yes, but I would prefer that you say no more of it.” “Why are you so concerned about your privacy, Bonnie?” “Specifically, Melissa, I am concerned about the living knowing more about me. The living threw me away to die. Those of the Nightmare took me in to live. Besides, it is always the living who come here to vandalize tombs and markers. If they know too much about me, they might succeed. I do not want that.” Melissa nodded, “I can certainly understand that. After Morgripe vanished, you were attacked by two of his buddies in broad daylight. If ponies around here knew that you were raised under the Nightmare, they might try other, more serious ways to harm you.” Bonnie swept a hoof to indicate the whole graveyard, “Not just me, Melissa. There are all of those graves out there. Some of their ponies have gone to the Nightmare and others to different rewards, according to their lives and beliefs. Regardless of where they are, their places of rest should, NEED, to be respected. “Why any of those who live, whether under Celestia’s Day, Luna’s Night, or under the Nightmare, would even want to harm graves is something that I simply do not understand. I know that it happens, but why is beyond me.” Melissa shook her head, “I really don’t know either, Bonnie. The only thing that I can think of is trying to get some sort of thrill from breaking something that they are not supposed to and getting away with it. So that they know but think that nobody else does.” Bonnie sat, brow wrinkled, before agreeing, “I guess that could be it. I don’t like it, but it does make a sort of twisted sense.” Bonnie opened a cabinet and took out a ledger. She carefully put aside Melissa’s story in its envelope and wrote neatly in the ledger. Melissa’s keen eyes caught the date as yesterday’s. Bonnie entered pathways cleaned, number and location of graves trimmed and a few miscellaneous chores. Seeing Melissa’s interest, Bonnie explained, “This shows Heather Bloom, Duchess of Red Hoof, what I have done. From this, she figures out how much she wants to pay me. Really, I would do it for free. Did it for a number of years, in fact. When she found out, she insisted that I should be paid for it.” Bonnie chuckled, “I really don’t have a lot of use for money. Because of that, it has grown to a tidy sum. I keep most of it in the Trust and Loan.” Melissa giggled at the thought. She asked impulsively, “Tomorrow night is Nightmare Night! What are you doing for it, Bonnie? Would you like to go to a party?” Bonnie was returning, “Would you like to come to a True Nightmare’s Night party? If you could cast it as fiction, so that no pony believes its real, it would make a good story.” Melissa was just beginning to agree, “I even see an angle to make it …” when she saw Bonnie’s expression go utterly feral. She floated up and snuffed the candles. As she was drifting out through the roof, she admonished, “Watch if you like, but if you hear me, cover your ears!” Melissa cautiously opened the door of the cemetery office. She saw two disreputable looking ponies poking about the tombs. One muttered, “I figure that pony that watch this place likely stay hid in one of these here tombs. She paid to do chores but never hardly spend any money. Got to be a goodly pile of cash where she stay.” The other nodded stealthily, “Right. All we got to do is find the one with her hoof prints coming in and out and we got our own Nightmare Night party! 'Specially if she’s home!” Melissa saw the almost unbelievable sight of the pale white pony floating above the miscreants! Suddenly Bonnie began a low moan! Melissa covered her ears! The moan rose to a scream! Even with her ears covered, that shriek nearly paralyzed her! The two tomb robbers froze in place! Melissa was sure that her eyes were failing her. The stout back wall of the cemetery was now a tumble down, moss grown ruin. Beyond it, a grove of some huge dark trees that she could not make out blocked out the lower sky and the sight of the Everfree beyond! The head of a lovely mare reared up over the time ruined wall and slithered across. Her body from the end of her ribs back was that of a monstrous serpent! Silently, the giant lamia cast coils about both of the robbers! As they woke from the effect of that unearthly scream, they tried to struggle! The coils tightened some and their efforts to escape ended! Bonnie trotted down the slope of empty air to land at Melissa’s side. “Are you alright? I did see that you covered your ears before I got to the full Banshee scream. That’s why it didn’t paralyze you. Still, the first time that you hear one it can be pretty scary!” Melissa shivered and it was not from the chill. Clutching her Morgripe story to her, she quavered, “What was that? What’s happened to the wall? Where did that forest come from?” Bonnie sort of shrugged, “I told you that I was raised in the Nightmare, didn’t I? That is simply the Borderland of Nightmare showing so that Flowering Ash could come here to take the bad ponies away.” “What will happen to those bad ponies?” Bonnie smiled calmly, “They will be part of the feast. Oh, not for us. Just for the vamponies, ghouls and a few others. We of the mortal sort and some others, just don’t do blood or meat. We will have a really good feast of our own. We will have games and other fun things to do as well. Trust me on that.” Melissa thought deeply for a few moments and replied, “I will probably need to get used to some of it, but it does sound like an interesting Nightmare Night feast. I will be delighted to come.” ~THE END~