He was crazy. Absolutely, certifiably insane. This was so far beyond nuts that if anypony ever caught on then they'd plant his statue in Discord's old spot.
And yet the excitement of the moment wouldn't go away. This was his one best chance that this would work. Assuming everything went by the plan. A pretty big if, which was what made this so insane.
One last check that everything was in place. The dinner lounger was near the couch, the couch was where it always was, a cord was wrapped around one hind hoof and securing his tail, the afghan from the couch was wrapped as securely as he could make it, the pan of brownies was on the couch, and the bag that should have wrapped it was next to it. And Ease Pulse, his friend, was in the bathroom.
If he waited too long and Ease came out too early this would never work. If Ease waited too long to finish up then the plan would go wrong in the worst way. What made this so nerve-wracking was how everything rested on Ease making a decision he didn't know he needed to.
Still, there was only one way he could think to do this, and relying on Ease was it.
One deep breath in; one long breath out. Get it all out. A flare of adrenaline kicked his heart into overdrive as a sudden flurry of activity wrapped the bag around his face, flipped the afghan into place, and he threw himself over the couch - spilling the brownies across the cushions and floor.
For a moment he reveled in the sensation of everything falling into place. He was partially rolled onto his back and draped over the couch, his head near the floor and his leg and tail pulled over the back by the cord. The afghan and his position kept his forelegs, wings, and the bag secure. He could wriggle a little but he couldn't move.
It had worked!
Hopefully Ease would play his part just right.
A familiar tension built, one that he couldn't relieve. It moved slowly - agonizingly - through discomfort and then to actual pain. He couldn't breathe! This was supposed to be part of the plan, but now... Now his body was throwing every ounce of self-preservation back at him. As air was continued to be denied his thoughts turned away from his purpose and solely to the horror he had visited on himself. He didn't want to die! His body screamed at his mind, begging for him to do something to end this - to make everything better.
But he could not. He was trapped! Immobile and dying!
The thrashing was involuntary but he'd done his job well. Too well. There was no escape.
The agony built in his chest until it seemed he might die of the pain alone. Unforgiving plastic was the only answer to the heaves his body desperately tried to use against him. Sparkles crept in from the edges of his sight and brought a clinging fog behind them. The pain wasn't any less, but somehow he couldn't feel it as sharply. Unpleasant pinprick tingles spread throughout his body and were followed by an aching numbness.
As his vision narrowed to only the stretch of carpet tantalizingly close to his muzzle he gave one last effort to inhale. Like all the others it was denied.
-----***-----
Today was a day much like any other. Go there, find the pony who was about to die, reap their soul and help it pass on, and then go somewhere else. Mort had met some interesting ponies - much like any other day - collected a few trinkets, and thankfully had not yet run into any foals or depressed poets. So, all in all, Mort chalked it up as a pretty good day to be a shade.
This latest assignment was a little strange though.
The collective unconsciousness had directed him to the apartment of one, Skip Splash, a pegasus. The place was small, only four rooms, but was rather tidy. The furniture was a mishmash of styles but each was well-maintained and there were various knicknacks and personal effects dotting the shelves and walls. It was humble yet, if Mort had to place a skeletal hoof on a single word, cozy. It seemed like a nice place.
There were two ponies. An orange and tan Earth Pony, who excused himself to the bathroom, and a cream and blue pegasus. Nothing seemed amiss. Mort took a moment to delve again, sifting through impressions and possibilities in search of the information Thanasia had provided. Yes, he was in the right place.
When he withdrew and the living world returned to his sight the situation was very different. The pegasus was prancing lightly after having partially wrapped himself up in the blanket from the back of the couch. If Mort could have, he would have frowned. Why this pegasus was doing this was still a bit of a mystery, but Mort didn't have the time to delve further.
He sighed. It seemed like he never had the time anymore.
Mort stood as the pegasus flung himself over the couch. He put on his most pleasant face, which wasn't saying much when you're a skeleton in a black hooded robe, and waited patiently as the pegasus' death throws worked themselves out. He hated to see such an end but Mort wasn't the one who got to decide such things, he just made sure they ended properly.
For exactly 23.719462394862 seconds - Mort, as a shade, should know - nothing happened. Then a ghostly pegasus groaned and rolled out of his own body and the intervening afghan to land unceremoniously on the floor, limbs splaying every which way and looking very uncomfortable. Though now that the pegasus was a spirit, Mort knew that he couldn't actually be. A thin glowing streamer still connected the ghostly pegasus to the real one.
"Ooohhhhhhh... That sucked." Skip blinked pale yellow eyes. "Where...? Oh!"
And just like that the pegasus was on his hooves and spinning around with wide eyes. Then they landed on Mort.
"Wait. Who are you?!"
"I'm, um, Mort." He'd known this pegasus would be more aware than the average recently-deceased, but it was still startling to actually face it. "And you are, um, Skip Splash. I'm sorry to say this, but you are..."
"Where's the alicorn that was here last time?"
Mort took a step back, his thoughts fritzing as he lost control of the conversation.
"I'm... Um... What?"
"The alicorn. Tall mare. Pale. Candle and flame cutie mark. Isn't she, like, the reaper?"
The conversation continued to spiral out of Mort's bony grasp and his brain - well, what would have been his brain had he had one - left him only one answer. "Thanasia?"
"Thanasia...? Thanasia! How could I have forgotten! My head feels like it's all full of fuzz." Skip shook himself and ruffled his wings. "Is she around?"
"Uhhhhhh... No?" Mort stepped back as an Earth Pony ran between the two of them, dropping beside the pegasus' former body.
Skip took a moment to watch as his own body was extricated from its confines by his distraught friend. "Woah. This is so weird." His eyes met Mort's eyeless sockets without flinching. "Where is she?"
"Oh, um, s-she's probably in the collective unconsciousness." Mort had given up on understanding the conversation. Hopefully Skip would at least be a cooperative spirit.
"Is that near here?"
"It... Sort of? I don't know. Do you need to speak with Thanasia about something?"
The pegasus spared a glance as the Earth Pony beside them went to work on the limp pony corpse. "Or something. But you know her, right?" Mort nodded, wishing he could spare a few minutes to delve again. "Look, I might not have a whole lot of time. I was going to give these to her." Skip walked quickly to a nearby end table and tried to grab at something on it. His immaterial hoof went right through the other side of the very solid-looking wood.
"Damnit! Mort!"
The skeletal pony jumped. "Yes?"
"You know her. Can you, um, get these to her?" Ease Pulse was breathing new air into the pegasus.
"Ummmm... I don't know. That's not..."
"So you can! Please?" Mort was subjected to his one true weakness: tearful puppy eyes. Somehow Skip was an adept wielder.
"I... Okay."
"Cool! Thanks, ummm..."
"Mort."
"Thanks so much Mort! I'd hug you, but you're kinda' bony."
"I know. It's alright. I don't mind." He gave the pegasus his best attempt at a smile to show that there were no hard feelings. It wasn't very hard to smile when your head was just a skull. It's too bad most ponies didn't appreciate skeletal smiles.
"Oh, and, um, can you tell her I said 'hi'? I was the pegasus who got saved by his friends after crashing and drowning in Lake Whinneypeg two weeks ago."
Two weeks ago? That had been when Mort took his vacation! Well now it all made sense. Thanasia had been reaping ponies at the time and...
The tether between Skip and, well, the other Skip went taut. The ghost pegasus yelped as he was yanked bodily off his hooves and back into the body resting on the floor.
Mort sat there for a few long minutes. There were things to get to, but it was kind of nice to see somepony have a near death experience rather than actually die. The way the two friends were comforting each other reminded Mort of all the ones he'd made recently. He should visit them soon. Today really was a good day!
Though first he had some reaping to finish. The work seemed like it never ended, but that was... He suddenly remember that the pegasus - he made sure to remember the name Skip - had had a request. With more than a bit of curiosity Mort approached the end table.
-----***-----
"Um, Thanasia? What is it? I-If you don't mind me asking."
When Mort had returned to the collective unconsciousness Thanasia had been doing what she normally did - standing atop the podium decorated with ever-shifting images from living Equestria. Everything had been bathed in wan green light from her horn as she sought to render her next batch of prophesies. And yet, on seeing Mort, she'd faltered. Her magic had flickered and a look of surprise had crossed her features. It was more than the stony alicorn ever emoted.
She had lit her horn again, he eyes drifting away as she resumed delving. Then she'd faltered again. This happened three more times and Mort began to fidget terribly, even going so far as to worry the edge of his cloak with a bone hoof. Was it something he'd done?
Then she'd descended and told him to show her what he'd brought. Of course she'd known, she was Thanasia. He'd pulled out the folded piece of paper and a little bundle of pink flowers, holding them up so she could see. He had dutifully told her what Skip had wanted to say to her and for an eternity, or at least long enough for Mort to consider whether he needed to have his sense of time checked, she'd simply stared. Then she'd sat herself statuesquely in front of him - another thing she pretty much never did.
And now here they were. Sitting and staring at these two little objects. Objects that now rested on the floor because Thanasia had gently pushed Mort's magic down until he got the hint.
"Th-thana...?"
"It's a note." Her even tone could have fooled even the Celestial princesses into thinking she didn't care one way or another, but Mort, who'd literally spent an eternity around her, had heard the hesitation.
"Is it a good one?"
The stately pale alicorn opened her mouth and shut it again. "'To the tall, lovely mare I chatted with up in Whinneypeg'," she recited without inflection.
Mort would have blinked if he could have. Skip thought Thanasia was pretty? Well, Mort did too, but that wasn't the kind of thing that he was going to just up and tell her. Unless he thought she wanted to be told she was pretty. But she never seemed to.
She paused - tellingly so to Mort - as her luminescent yellow eyes sought his. "He killed himself to tell me that I... was... beautiful."
Author's Note
Yeah, yeah, I know people aren't going to like the "Complete" thing, but there's not much I can do about that. To continue, especially now, would require quite a bit of spoilerizing. Plus I'd need a better idea of where to go.
You'll just have to use your own imaginations!
Kids still have those these days, right?