Mask of Atanciel is done.

So it's done. This story is another one based on a SCP reading.

You can find out more about it here:
https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/798991/march-2018-status-report

I'm doing a new to me short story format.
The whole story will be in one chapter.
The Mask of Atanciel is now about 13k words long.
That could change depending on my revisions or what editors say.

Most of the time, my chapters are at the most 3k to 4k long.

I wonder if this longer short story will be good for readers or will they not care.
That will be more important than any benefit for me.

Will go back and work on my other MLP story, "Well of Midnight"
Oh yeah, it's rough.
Here's an excerpt:

The zebra stood in front of a bar in the saloon. It looked like any bar and saloon in any western I've seen. Well, except the chairs were closer to the ground and everything had this worn look to it. Behind the bar were glass shelves with all sorts of vile liquids in bottles.

Can someone barf in their eyes? Looking at the stuff made me feel queasy.

In front of the nasty bottles was something that looked like a pony in a black cloak. I said it looked like a pony but I couldn't see its eyes.

The zebra sighed. “I reckon I won't be getting any whiskey here? Not even any rotgut?”

The black cloaked pony thing sighed. “I could use a drink too. No.”

For a moment both ponies stood there looking dejected.

Then the black cloaked pony's ears perked up. “Well, the drinks suck here Zoland of Zaryphesh but that doesn't mean you can leave here empty hooved. The Crimson Stallion wants me to give you a gift.”

Zoland looked up. “I reckon such gifts from you come with a cost hidden and not.”

“Please, there is no such thing as a free lunch. You pick who you work for and pay and get your reward. The ones you serve are running out of rewards and yet they still want you to do more. I, William, serve the Crimson Stallion and get my rewards. Maybe it's time for you to pick new employers?”

Zoland shook his head.

William smiled.

I couldn't tell if it was a real smile. Again, I couldn't see his eyes.

“Zoland, your heart still aches for what was. I can soothe some of that by bringing back your wife Eletria.”

A subtle perfume started to fill the saloon.

Zoland closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.”

A faint voice called.

Zoland screamed. “No, no! Do not desecrate my memory with an undead abomination of my wife!”

A cold edge entered William's voice. “It won't be an abomination, it will be your wife. You will never be lonely again. If you wish, I can bring back Zaryphesh. Abandon your current masters who don't appreciate you and the Crimson Stallion will be quite generous. If necessary, you could have me to kill and slake your thirst for revenge.”

Zoland looked up at William.

I gotta say that was a look that was full of death.

Zoland whispered in a voice that was cold as a knife across the throat. “I don't need the Crimson Stallion's generosity to kill you.” At that moment, the twin guns were up and firing.

William faded away.

The bottles of vile juices started shaking even though the rest of the saloon was still. Then they flew at Zoland.

This time there was no bullet vision. The bottles shattered and after a few moments the floor in front of Zoland was a glass and muck covered mess.

Then the saloon started creaking. Bits of plaster fell down from the roof.

Zoland galloped outside just as the saloon collapsed into a pile of sun bleached wood. He looked around at the other piles of wood.

“So this is what happens to Friendship.” Then he spat and trotted out of town.