Prologue

“And they were never heard from again,” Jakob said, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes wide. The glow from the fireplace shrouded half of his face in wavering shadow.

“Never?” asked one of the little ponies gathered around.

Jakob shook his head as the fire crackled. “Never. That is why you must be wary as you wander about when the night is at its darkest. The headless horse is always searching for little ones like yourselves,” he said severely, leaning back in his chair and letting his words sink in. Before him, the children exchanged nervous glances between each other.

Suddenly, the front door crashed open and the crowd screamed. Concentrating on the illusion was easy. He had done much the same hundreds of times before. Standing in the doorway was the glowing ghost of the headless horse, rearing high and kicking its front legs. A disembodied whinny echoed through the room as if from everywhere. He didn’t let the fright go on longer than a moment and used his magic to bring up the lights in the room. As he did so, he let the image of the headless ghost dissipate as if blown away by the wind.

The shrieks turned to giggles. With smiles on their faces some accused others of being more frightened by the sudden apparition of the ghost than they had been. “Alright everypony, that’s it for this year’s Nightmare Night storytelling,” Jakob said as he stood from his chair by the fire.

A chorus of “aww’s” and “Please, one more, Uncle Jak’s” arose from the crowd of fillies and colts. He smiled at the name, something he had earned after years of storytelling. “Don’t worry little ones. There are plenty more stories to tell in time,” He reassured the children as he began ushering them toward the door. “But you can hear those any night. Nightmare Night and its candy comes but once a year.”

Scootaloo hung back in the crowd, beaming up at him as he neared. The goggles of her Wonderbolts costume were pushed up on her forehead. “Thanks for the stories Uncle Jak’o’Lantern!” she said. “They’re almost as good as the ones Rainbow Dash tells around the fire during our camping trips.”

“I’m glad you decided to join us this year for Nightmare Night, Scootaloo,” he said, smiling down to her. “Applebloom told me you weren’t a fan of scary stories last year.”

“Yeah…” Scoot dug her hoof into the ground before looking back up and smiling. ”Rainbow Dash has helped me to see that there isn’t anything to fear in scary stories. It’s all your imagination bringing it to life, and things that live in your imagination can’t get out of it.”

Jakobs smile faltered ever so slightly. “Good for you,” he said as they reached the door. “Now, you should get out there and join your friends. The night is still young, but it won’t be forever.”

“Bye, Uncle Jak’o’Lantern!”

Jak watched the foals wander down the street for a moment as they teased each other before he closed the door and turned to stare across the room into the fire. “Nothing to fear,” he murmured under his breath. They were too young to know that there is a grain of truth in every story. Sometimes more than you would expect. That truth is what makes some stories all that much more horrific. Suddenly he felt the need to tell the true story of the Headless Horse. The story he had learned during his long years studying the histories of the three tribes at Palfrey University. The story he was sure only a select few actually knew.

First, he needed an audience. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He brought forth the image of Scootaloo and her friends and began to weave an illusion. When he opened his eyes again the room was filled with small, glowing ponies. The spell was merely a copy of the one he had used to create the Headless Horse, but done on a larger scale. The ponies watched him expectantly. Much like the children’s had been, their attention was all his.

“Gather ‘round, my little ponies,” he said as he retook his seat next to the fire place. “I’m going to tell you a story. It goes back ages, and I’m sure some of you may have heard it before. It is the tale of the Headless Horse. Tonight, though, I will tell you the true story; the story few have heard, and fewer still would believe. Tonight I will tell you how the Headless Horse came to be the pony of so many ponies’ nightmares.”