Twilight The Princess of Death

by Critic

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, Slice of Life, Dark, Comedy
Length: 505

Some say Death is a skeleton, actually she is purple... well lavender to be specific

And so it was that Clockward passed away, dying alone in his bed at a cold winter night, yet he could feel a cold touch on his hoof. Opening his eyes he saw it, a pony dressed in a black coat with a scythe by its side, it was without a doubt the figure of the maleficent Grim Reaper, The Harvester of Souls, The Angel of Death, the… eh, purple mare…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-07 01:16:05 UTC

Till Death Do its Part

Cold, the night was cold. All throughout Ponyville snowflakes could be seen flying overhead, being blown by the wind, yet inside the homes of the villagers all was coozy... except for the house of a lonely old stalion. That said stalion was none other than Clockwork, the Town Hall's clockkeeper, who lived alone with his old cat, on his old bed, in his old, cold, lonely, house. What most ponies did not know, or care to notice, was that the old stalion, who walked around town with his old trusty cane, had saved bits from work all his life, he was the crème de la crème, a parvenu, a pony of substance in a simpler term: very, very wealthy. This fortune however, for better or worse, in this case worse, was hereditary; meaning that after his children sucessfully found a way of killing him inconspicuously, they would receive all of his bits, which was something Clockwork just could not tolerate.

*Cough*

And with that sound the old stalion knew he had little time left, he could feel the cold pain crawling up his throat, with his last seconds he picked up the quilt from his bedside, using his mouth, and wrote away in a piece of parchment. He was almost done when the first cramp violently, and mercilessly, tore through his chest; in his final moments he smiled, and closed his eyes, for his legacy was now safe at last.

So did Clockwork die, alone with his cat, in his cold bed; parchment at hoof and quilt in mouth. Yet he could feel something, someone, touching his hoof. That was when he saw his own lifeless body lying under him still in bed, and that was also when he noticed that he was not alone anymore. Daring to look back at the presence he felt, Clockwork turned to look at the pony touching his hoof, and then he saw it. A pony in dark robes and scythe at its side stood next to him, it was Death itself, The Grim reaper, The Harvester of Souls, the... eh..purple mare.

*.*.*

Twilight had never been so excited and nervous, not only was she now the student of Celestia, sister of a prince, and bearer of the element of Magic, today she was going to start her long rule as a princess herself. She had studied about all aspects of Equestria, from economics, to structural government, and even the mail system; she was in other words completely and utterly ready to rule over any domain of Equestria, Princess Celestia would assign her to, any!

*.*.*

"Are you...Death?" Said the confused ghost of the old stalion.

"Well yeah...in a way" Answered the robed figure."I am Princess Twilight ruler of the realm of the dead by the decree of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna." the alicorn aswered opening her wings in sign of grandeur.

The awed stalion stared at the mare for a moment and then back at his lifeless body.

"Well, what now?"