The Undertakers Coming
It was a hot dry day in the town of backwater. There hadn't been rain for a long time now, and the town's folk had gotten restless. They had all turned to the town's preacher for guidance through this rough time.
While everyone in town was getting ready for church, far off on the outskirts of the small town sat an old, grey stallion on top of an old telephone pole. "Darn thing," he said as he continued to work on the broken lines. He removed his hat and wiped some sweat from his forehead. He turned his head toward the old, dusty town off in the distance.
The sound of church bells could be heard, echoing throughout the barren desert. The old stallion shook his head before returning to his work. He quickly jerked his hand away
as a pulse of electricity ran up his arm.
"Damn it!" he yelped as he saw his box of tools fall to the ground below him. A frustrated growl escaped his muzzle as he attempted to climb down and gather his tools. As he started to turn to climb, the old pole that he had been sitting on began to creak. The old stallion stopped moving as he saw a large crack begin to appear on the old wood. He turned his head toward the town and screamed for help, but the church bells easily drown out his cries.
He began to cry when suddenly, a large, black shadow flew over him. He looked up to find a large, black crow sitting in front of him. He stared at the bird and it stared right back. Suddenly, three more crows land on the weakened peace of wood, causing it to crack even more. The old stallion waves his hand at them, trying to scare the creatures away, but the birds didn't move an inch. The wood continued to crack and groan under the newly added weight.
The old stallion yelps as he clings to it for dear life, but the sudden shift in weight only quickened his demise. The wooden perch that had jutted out of the large, wooden pole gave one last crack before breaking free and crashing to the ground below, taking the old stallion with it. He hit the ground with a bloody splat, his head now busted open, revealing his now crushed and bloody brain.
The sound of an old bicycle could be heard coming up the old, dirt road. Its brakes let out a screech as it came to a sudden stop. A tall stallion dressed in a black dress coat and large black top hat clambered off his bike and walked over to the broken corpse of the dead stallion, his hooves kicking up dust as he drew closer.
He stared down at the dead body, the sunlight reflecting off his dark, round sunglasses. A dry wind blew through his dark grey fur as a smile spread across his aged face. He bent down beside the dead body and pulled out a measuring tape from the pocket of his coat. He hummed softly to himself as he measured the body that laid in front of him.
The sky suddenly became full of dark storm clouds. A blot of lighting flashed across the sky, scaring off the crows that had began to gather around the dead corpse. The strange stallion put away his measuring tape and grabbed the legs of the dead pony before dragging him to a small cart hitched up to his bike. After flinging the dead stallion into his cart, he climbed back on his bike and started peddling toward the dusty, old town off in the distance.
Father, Sombra stood in his church, alone, staring out the dusty, old window, his bible in hand. He watched as the citizens of backwater went on with their day to day lives. He watched as the local school teacher, Cheerilee, exited the general goods store, a bag of groceries and a few bottles of milk in her arms.
Sombra sighed as he turned away from the dust covered window and walked to the podium that stood on the far side of the building. The words 'fear the lord' was written on a plaque behind the podium. Sombra stopped and looked up at the sign, deep in thought. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but it must have been a while because, as soon as he turned away, he found himself staring at a large, white, furred figure. He opened the doors to the building.
"Good morning," father Bulk Biceps said as he entered through the church doors. "I hope I'm not interrupting you," father Bulk said as he walked to the back of the church.
"Not at all," Sombra replied as he placed a hand on Bulk Biceps' shoulder, "but may I ask why you are here my child?"
Bulk shifted nervously on his hooves before answering. "I'm here to ring the bells and start the services," he said nervously.
"Ah, the services," Sombra replied, a warm smile touching his face. "Alright then lad, let's not keep the town's folk waiting." Sombra said as he walked to the front of the church.
"Uh, yes sir!" Bulk Biceps said quickly as he hurried to the back room to ring the bells.
Sombra walked back to the dusty, old window he had been at earlier, but this time, he saw something that suddenly filled him with anger. Down at the bottom of the hill from the church sat a short, slinky-like stallion. He wore a yellow cowboy hat along with a bright yellow coat. In his hands he held and old acoustic guitar and was currently picking away at its strings while singing a strange song. Sombra gritted his teeth in anger as he heard the lyrics leave the annoying stallion's lips.
The shadow of the undertaker creeps across your floor
go lock up all your children
and paint blood upon your door!!
these hills are filled with whispers........
The singing stallion was suddenly cut off as Sombra swung open the doors of the church. He glared down at the guitar playing stallion, his eyes full of anger, but the guitar playing stallion just smiled and friendly waved up at the preacher.
He began picking on his guitar once again and resuming his song as the church bells started to echo across the town.
these hills are filled with whispers of a stallion all dressed in black
at the tole of deaths bell he climbs from hell to drag some poor soul back.....
He was once again interrupted as a stallion walked by and slapped the neck of the guitar out of his way, causing one of its six strings to snap. Sombra just chuckled and smiled as he saw all the town's folk walk up the hill toward the church. They all had their heads hung low and were sluggishly kicking up dust with their hooves.
Sombra continued to stand in the doorway as ponies walked past him to get inside the building. He gave out an angered growl when he saw the guitar playing stallion hadn't moved and inch. "SUBMIT TO THE LORD!!" Sombra yelled to the stallion at the foot of the hill.
The stallion looked up at the preacher, an annoyed look on his face. "Why don't you try it!" he shouted back.
Sombra let out another angry growl before slamming the church doors shut. He turned and walked toward the back of the church before talking his place behind the podium. They started off with saying the lord's prayer and also praying for those that had gone missing since this terrible drought. After all the prayers had been said and a few of the text had been read and the services were almost over, Sombra moved the subjects toward the annoying stallion who still sat at the bottom of the hill.
"One bad apple, my friends," Sombra said, his voice echoing off the walls of the church. "One bad apple, that's all it takes. One bad apple, and the whole barrel is spoiled," he said, his voice slowly growing louder. "Do you wanna save that barrel!!" he shouted as he waved a small wooden cross towards the crowd, "Then throw out that apple!! Cast it away, but if you fail to destroy that apple, who will carry then the blame?"
Golden Pick, the guitar playing stallion sat outside in the currently empty town, tuning his now fixed guitar. He picked across it a few times and grinned when it gave off the sound he wanted. "There, good as new," he said as he patted his guitar. He smiled as he once again started playing and humming softly to himself.
He loved the sound of his guitar. It was his favorite sound in all of Equestria. He had had this instrument for a long time now. It looked old and dirty. To everyone else, it was a hunk of useless junk, but to pick it was worth more than all the bits in the world. He loved his guitar. It was his one and only friend.
He continued to smile as he played faster and faster across its strings when suddenly, a loud 'koww' caused him to snap out of his daze. He looked at the barrel that sat next to him and saw a large, black crow sitting on top of it. He turned and faced the rest of the town and saw three more sitting on top of the old, dried out well in the center of town.
He looked around some more and saw dozens of the large, black birds all throughout the town. He let out a soft chuckle as a warm smile spread across his face. "Well, I better go tell the others," Pick said as he climbed to his feet and began to walk up the hill toward the old church.
It is said that in the city of Sikkim, every stallion was punished for the sins of one man. Sombra shouting at the crowd and all their attention was focused on him. His face grew dark and his voice grew cold and the punishment was death. The crowd looked up at Sombra, each one had a scared look in their eyes. Fluttershy had pulled the hair in front of her face and Applejack seemed to be trying to hide in her cowboy hat.
Suddenly, there was a loud banging on one of the windows of the church. Each pony turned to look at the source of the noise. There stood Golden Pick outside the dusty, old window, a strange grin spread across his face.
"The Undertaker is coming," Pick said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. The crowd all gasped in shock at what the strange stallion had just told them. They all began to whimper and panic, but Golden Pick just watched as he saw the town's folk begin to panic at the news he had just brought them.
Author's Note
this is story is based off of the short film called Backwater Gospel
hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter the second one will be out soon
i would also like to thank Pileoblock for editing give them a follow if you haven't
check out my other stories if your interested
