My grandfather's funeral took place today.
All though the ceremony went well it did nothing to console me. It was cold and it rained through the whole procession. Almost as if the very world mourned his passing. The cathedral in Manehattan made sure that one of Equestria's most prominent historians was buried well. The entire church was decorated and dozens came to say their last goodbyes. It surprised me a little that so many ponies came for it.
When somepony is murdered, you don't really have your last words planned.
The police has been, so far, useless. They showed me the scene of the crime, hoping for me to identify the body. The only way I managed to do so was because my grandfather's corpse was wearing his hoof ring. A small family heirloom passed from one head of the family to the next. The body was covered in a blanket, hiding most of the gory details. I still remember the bloodstains around it though. Even with the blanket, the body underneath it was very noticeable. A pony shouldn't bend that way.
I asked why were they showing me this? What about dental records or something!? What was wrong with them?!
They told me there was no head.
The next few weeks were just as horrible. Coming from Fillydelphia, I had no home, forcing me to rent a small apartment in the city. It was small and cold. I hate it. The police assured me they would find whoever did this. It didn't take me long to realize the didn't have a clue. After couple of week of investigation that led nowhere, I got fed up with their incompetence. My grandfather had been murdered, and whoever did it was had done it for a reason. Why make it so gruesome otherwise?
And so, here I was, back at the main hall of my late grandfather's home. Returning to the mansion offers me no comfort. Its cold, distant. As if it rebelled at my very presence.
I glance at the door. There large, dark wooden doors stand there, closed, completely separating me from the dark, rainy outside world. For a second, my mind considered leaving and call this whole thing off, but I quickly reaffirmed myself. The stallion who took care of me since I was a filly was dead, and somewhere in this mansion was the answer as to why.
I just had to find it.
The main hall was large, with a long staircase which lead to a short hallway, ending with a double door. The second floor laid behind. The first floor was a set of doors, two on each side wall, and one large double door on one side of the stairs, a single one on the other side. Paintings decorated the hall, along with a couple of tables, one with an old phone, the other, with a small clock.
The clock was unmoving, with one leg stuck at half past. I tried moving it, but it wouldn't budge. The other leg was gone.
Thinking no more of it, I wandered through out the hall. I took my time to look at the paintings. Dark and brooding portraits of elder lives of the Clef family looked back at me. Not what you would expect for a decoration. I tried opening the doors of the second floor, but they were locked. The dim light of the candles only served to increase the somber mood that hung around me.
I decided to move on to the first room by entering the one of the doors in the right of the stairs.
I found myself in the library. Rows of books stands met me, all of them dusty. Considering my grandfather's profession, it was little surprise that he would have so many tomes of so huge a variety. He was an avid reader, and any book that grabbed his attention would find itself in this place. He tried his best to impart me with some of his knowledge. Didn't work much though.
My hooves echoed on the wooden floor. It was the only sound in the entire mansion. The silence was deafening. At the end of long library, I gave a sharp turn and enter my grandfather's study. It wasn't a very big study, nor did it have a lot of things. Just a small desk and a large clock, of which the handles were gone. The desk itself merely had a few blank pages and book, which itself was nothing special.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I began to read it. It was merely a history book, and I was soon flipping page after page. I was about to close it when I stumbled upon the middle of the tome. Lodged between the pages was an envelope. It had no name on it. I took it out and opened it. Out of it slid two things: A small piece of paper and a small clock handle. The paper was a simple poem.
Three friends.
Three races.
Zero hope.
It made no sense, so I quickly discarded the paper. The small handle however, got my attention. It was clearly from a clock, but too small to be from the study. The design was what brought my mind back to the hall, and the small clock in it. This was the missing leg! I picked up with my mouth, ignoring the metallic taste. The hall was just as dark was before once I entered it. I quickly walked towards the clock and placed the leg in its place. Nothing happened.
For some reason, I felt disappointment bubble in me.
Suddenly, the poem popped back inside my mind. Nearly unconsciously, I moved the small leg with my hoof. Unlike the minute leg, the hour leg moved easily. I kept moving it until it reached marked the third hour. Almost immediately, the back of the clock popped open, and out fell a piece of metal. I inspected it, realizing that it was one of the time legs of the clock in the study.
As I walked through the library, the wood echoed beneath my hooves. The metal clock piece was firmly in my mouth. Thats when I stepped on it. I stopped and looked down. Beneath my hoof was a smaller piece of metal. I quickly recognized it as the other leg of the clock. But that thought was quickly replaced by another.
How did it get there? I would have noticed on my first walk, and yet, when I had gone to fix the small clock, it wasn't there. That piece had somehow appeared between me leaving the library and returning.
I decided to stop thinking about, lest I start spooking myself.
The clock was ticking away, even without the handles. I stood up on my hind legs. My cello skills were useful in situations like this, and placing the handles back in their place was no problem at all. Once again, nothing happened. But I knew the trick now. I remembered the poem.
Three friends
I placed the hour handle at three.
Three races
I placed the minute handle at half past.
Zero hope
A short yet loud clang echoed through the library. I nearly jumped as part of the wall next to clock slid to the side, revealing a think, small hallway.
A secret passage in the library?
The passage wasn't very long, but it took a sharp turn, presenting me almost immediately a door. To my surprise, it was unlocked, so I quickly entered it. I had to stifle a gasp at what I saw. It was another study, but it was unlike any study I had ever seen. The floor was covered in old pages. The walls had drawings and and maps hanged on it all of the going from the bizarre to the grotesque, including what seemed to be a detailed tower made of ponies. A large, zebra like mask was placed on a stand, right besides a weird, altar like rock, carved with different symbols. There was a sword, hanging from one of the walls. It was clean and beautifully made.
But my attention wasn't focused on any of those things. My sights were focused on the desk that was placed almost in the middle of the room, and the large tome that laid on it. On closer inspection, I realized that the tome was covered in leather, and that the pages were bound together with what seemed to be little bones. My mind began conjuring all sort of weird images, but I forced them aside when I realized something.
The entire study was dusty and unclean, but the tome itself and the surface of the desk was clean and visibly used. My grandfather had been working here until very recently. Probably even little before his death! If there was any place were to begin my search for answers, it was here. I climbed on the seat, making myself comfortable.
The book was visibly taken care of, and yet, it gave an air of agelessness. It unnerved me a little, though I didn't know why. There was nothing out of the ordinary with this book, other than it being covered in leather. Probably lion or some animal like that. The bones however, were a bit too much, and I did my best to not touch them.
I placed my hoof on the cover, slowly opening it. The pages were a pale yellow, which only confirmed the age of the book. Faded drawings danced at the edge of the page. I began rea-
Abyss. Monsters. Have to run. SlithRing. crAWling. HelP. Alone! Can't be Real. NoT HappeNinG! The DarkneSs! The VeIL! THE DARKNESS!
I had to steady myself once the vision left, my mind still reeling with the images. Too fast to be truly remembered, but vivid enough to shake me. What was that?! Was I too tired that my mind was playing against me? Or maybe my grandfather's death had affected me more than I thought. Either way, I had to calm myself. I had a investigation to do, and sitting here thinking about nonsense would not get it done.
Once more, I looked at the tome and began to read.
I had no knowledge of what was to come, nor did I care. How the knowledge changed me, it will also change you. As you read this, you will understand fear, just as I have. You too, will come to understand.
Or you will perish...
