Paranormals

Chapters

Chapter 1: Daemon and the Real Monster
Chapter 2: Just another day at the office
Chapter 3: Pensive, Playing, and a Pegasus
Chapter 4: Hope
Chapter 5: Showtime
Epilogue

Chapter 1: Daemon and the Real Monster

Thunder clapped over the gray dreary skies, a fine layer of mist hung in the air as a single light pierced through the veil. A single pony trotted along a narrow road, the only things to keep him company were his earphones, a camera, and a flashlight. Cold shivers rippled down his ghostly white coat, it had been a while since the stallion had travelled in such an eerie fog. He trode upon an earthen road, slightly soft from the recent rainfall. The trees swayed gently in the wind, sending more chills up the stallion’s spine.

The trees opened up to a large mansion, the stallion approached with trepidation. The mansion was decayed from the passage of time that it was left to rot in. Paint was peeling from the walls, mildew hung from the roof, and many of the windows were dirty and cracked. The stallion smiled.

"Alrighty then, finally made it! Time to get rolling…" The stallion rejoiced. He brought out his camera and carefully fitted it around his neck. The camera was wired to a special recording device so he could review his footage later. A small flashlight was mounted to the top; in his line of work, dark and desolate places were common. He fixed it into place and pulled down his microphone from the headset on his ears.

"Testing testing, hello? Can. You. Hear. Me?" the stallion jokingly said to the microphone.

A static voice came back through the headphones, "Loud and clear, you are free to begin whenever you’re ready."

"Okay!" The stallion dramatically swung his head, facing the imposing building, "3 2 1!" The stallion flicked on the camera. "How’s everypony doing and welcome my friends, I’m Daemon Shade. Let’s play the Mansion! A free to experience haunted house, with only half the death."

Daemon Shade trotted to the front entrance, carefully inspecting the door.

"Alright, let’s see what we’re getting into…" he tugged on the handle, it wouldn’t budge. "Well! Looks like the door is locked! Seems that we can’t get in so, see ya!" He made to turn around, but immediately turned back. "Nah I’m just joking of course I have the key," he joked.

Sticking the dilapidated key into the door lock, he rotated it until the key stopped moving. With a click the door unlocked; Daemon tried the door again, this time with success. The door opened to a large foyer area, a singular table sat in the middle of the room. A letter rested on top.

"So this is what I’m here for? A letter? Wonder what it says?..." Daemon wandered toward the letter. He picked it up; it appeared to be fairly new when compared to the rest of the house.

The radio came back on, "You have completed your objective, return to base."

"Wait… That’s it? No monster, no slamming doors, no jump scares? That’s literally it?" Daemon asked.

"Yes, you can come back now," the radio replied.

"Is this some sort of joke? I just walked up a freaking foggy butt hill that makes Silent Hill look like sunny skies, into a creepy house, fully geared for a full Let’s Play, just to get a letter?!" Daemon raged.

"That’s affirmative."

"Are you absolutely certain? I’m pretty sure this place could be a little bit haunted. Did Spirit set this up? Cause this seems like something he would do," Daemon recalled the time that his unicorn friend, Spirit Charity, had sent him to a Pizzeria to investigate, only to find that Spirit had called to place in an order. The walk back to base was humiliating, but also very delicious.

"I can assure you, this is not some prank. We try to keep things professional around here remember?"

"Yeah yeah I know, but you could've told me about this before I walked all this way." Daemon moaned.

"It could've been worse, a giant monster might have snuck up behind you and stabbed you to death," the voice joked.

Almost as if on cue, a sharp creak of the floor boards resonated from behind. Daemon spun around only to see a tall albino stallion wearing a black business suit. He had no face, and dark slithering tentacles pulsed from his backside. It stood ominously in front of him-- unmoving -- waiting for Daemon to make his move.

"Aha! I knew this place was haunted! And here I thought I was here just to get some stupid letter!" Daemon boasted, "Bring it on Slendy! I'll collect all the pages before you can even blink, oh wait..."

The creature extended its tentacles, poised to lunge for him.

"I think that’s my cue to leave!" Daemon started to sprint deeper into the mansion, and away from the thin monster. He took a left at the first intersection of halls, leading him straight into a labyrinth of doors. “Well great, as if being chased by Slender wasn’t enough, now I have to deal with door city!” He dashed to the first entryway and went to open it. “Locked.” He tried the next one: locked. As Daemon tried to open each door, he checked behind him frequently to keep Slender from advancing on him. Though his vision blurred each time he looked at him, it was better than him sneaking up on Daemon.

“Man why is Slendy so intent on getting me? Wasn’t once enough?” Memories of the last time Daemon encountered Slender came flooding back. The tall trees, ominous fog, and dark sky filled the atmosphere as he had attempted to gather all of Slender’s notes. Normally, Slendy would just kick out any pony who failed to collect them, but after he had managed to grab all eight…
Daemon stopped for a moment. He couldn’t recall what happened after getting all eight pages. It was a blur in his head, like a bad filter on a camera lense. Static, lot’s and lot’s of static; his ears hurt just from the thought of it. He didn’t want to get caught again; quickly shaking off the fog, Daemon returned to his escape plan.

None of the doors would open; Daemon darted his eyes for another possible way out. His gaze fell upon a set of stairs, he bolted for them. Scaling the steps three at a time, he was out of breath by the time he reached the top. Daemon scanned the hall at the top of the stairs, dead ends both ways; both with more doors to try. Before trying for the doors once more, a buzz started ringing in his ears: Slendy was right behind him. Daemon spun around, only to have his body flying across the hall into the window. The window fractured into a spider web of shards; Daemon’s head hurt from the collision, and all of the air had been knocked from his lungs. He could feel his side aching intensely.

Daemon coughed for oxygen, and tried to focus his now blurred eyes. He could make out the encroaching silhouette of Slender. He immediately thought of what he could do next.

Shakily he stood; In an act of desperation, Daemon took a few steps back. Slendy’s tentacles leaped for him. Daemon bolted to the window in an attempt to smash his way through it.

Before he could make contact, a slithering appendage wrapped around Daemon’s waist, yanking him back from the window. Others bound his hooves, and one went around his neck; choking him. The static was almost unbearable; Daemon let out a small yelp, but the lack of air made it almost inaudible. The blur and noise became greater, all sense of surroundings disappeared; Daemon couldn’t even see walls anymore, as if they had turned to nothingness. As he was about to lose consciousness, a singular voice came from the static. It spoke a single word.
Thief.

Chapter 2: Just another day at the office

Spirit paced back and forth, he wore a concerned look on his face. It had been hours since the feed from Daemon’s camera cut off, any number of things could’ve happened, and they were just standing there waiting for some sort of news. Spirit stopped and started to twiddle with the crystal hanging from his neck; it sparkled as he anxiously played with it.

“You know, pacing around the room like that isn’t going to bring him back faster”, A relaxed temperate voice called. Spirit turned to face the voice: Dr. Stevens, one of the lead scientists of Paranormals and a close friend. He wore a standard issue coat over his light purple fur; dangly violet hair lazily peeked out from his beret; and a pair of circular glasses rested on his muzzle as he nonchalantly read from his book.

“Well sitting here doing nothing isn’t going to help either!” Spirit snapped back, “It’s been hours Stevens; I thought you said it was a thirty minute hike.”

Steven closed his book and set it back on the bookshelf with his magic. Calmly, he readjusted his glasses and stood from his chair.

“I’m sure he’s fine Spirit, a little late as usual, but I know that he can handle himself,” Stevens reassured, “I’m going to go see how Omen is doing. He might have found something already.”

Spirit rubbed at his scraggly black hair, tips dyed a light pink. He felt a small headache come on. Hopefully he wouldn’t snap that day, but there would be no promises kept while his friend remained in danger. He took a deep breath and sat down at the table, trying his best not to lash out at Stevens again.

Dr. Stevens stood and calmly walked out the door, he glanced back at Spirit.

“Relax Spirit, everything's going to be fine,” Stevens called back. He left and the door silently clicked shut. Spirit laid his head on the table, he let out a long and annoyed groan.

“I hate this. I really hate this!” He complained, “Today was supposed to be a day for partying and celebrating five years of not dying! Now it might be a funeral!” He glanced at the party decor lining the room, a huge banner hung from the ceiling that read ‘Happy Paranormals Anniversary!’, a table sat underneath it, a small pile of presents from Daemon’s friends rested upon it; one of them from Spirit himself.

Spirit gritted his teeth in frustration; Daemon had been a friend for years, he had known him since grade school. Daemon and him had started a ghost hunting club since both of them had special talents with dealing with the dead. Daemon could relive a soul’s last moments before they had passed away, and Spirit could placate ghosts to help them pass into the afterlife. It had been just them for awhile; going into abandoned buildings and pretending to be ghost hunters. Every once in awhile they found something truly supernatural, and every time Daemon had found a way to put a fun spin on the terrifying situation. No matter how scary it got, Daemon could find a way to laugh. Spirit always thought Daemon was the braver one of the two, he could handle so much terror and still find a way to smile in the end, while he pretended to be strong and courageous.

Spirit sometimes felt sorry for Daemon though. Having to live through all those deaths could not have been easy, especially the gruesome ones. He had done his best to prevent as many of those as possible, but he couldn’t be there for him all the time, like that moment…

Spirit stood from the table, and made his way towards the door Stevens had exited out of. He felt slightly sickened, and needed to get some fresh air. As he proceeded down the cold metallic hallway he noticed the door to the archives was ajar. Cautiously yet curiously, he glanced inside.

A young pegasus mare was hovering near the higher shelves pulling out books. She gently drifted back to a table littered with papers and notebooks. The mare set down the books and proceeded sit down and open one named “Myths and Legends of Equestria”. She adjusted her thick brimmed glasses while taking notes.

Spirit, trying to kill some time, knocked on the side of the doorway. The pegasus looked from her notes surprised; she immediately shut her book and stood from her seat slightly embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry sir! Did you need something?” she sputtered.

“No need to be sorry! I was just curious about what you were up to,” Spirit replied.

She blushed even more, “Oh, I was just following orders… Ms. Pensive asked me to find any information regarding the Slendermane…”

“Why would she ask you to do that?” Spirit asked.

“I think it has to do with Daemon being missing,” She continued, “She must really care for him. I mean, he’s only been missing for five hours…”

“The video cutting out must have stressed her out. I know it stressed me out,” recalling his freak out just a couple minutes ago. The two awkwardly stood there for a moment, the pegasus unable to meet his gaze. “So uh… I don’t think I caught your name yet.”

“My name? My name is Book Butterfly,” she said as she turned to the side, revealing a book in the shape of a butterfly with two bookmark fringes as antennae as her cutie mark. “My friends call me BB, that is to say, if I had any…”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you BB, my name’s--”

“Spirit Charity, a veteran paranormal investigator who solved the case of that fast food chain phantom that was hiding it’s victims in the freezer!” She excitedly told; she grew a huge smile on her face, “I thought it was amazing that you were able to figure out that it was the ghost of the chain owner’s son; who had died just a few years prior when he was locked in the freezer by accident!” BB gushed, “And then you heroically saved that philly who was on the brink of succumbing to hypothermia. It was so stellar! To think that the colt was only looking for a friend, I never could do something so selfless like you did! I mean, letting the ghost attach itself to your soul until it could pass on was so stellar!”

Spirit was both amazed and shocked at the same time. The mare knew her stuff. BB noticed his bewildered expression, and immediately started blushing again. She shied away and hid under the table.

“I... uh… may have read that case file a couple of times…” she squeaked. Her green coat blushed around her face, and a portion of her dark green mane fell over her eyes. She continued to hide under the table, slightly shaking from embarrassment. “And maybe a couple more with you in them…” she mumbled.

Weirded out, Spirit slowly backed out of the room.

“Well, it was nice meeting you BB. I’ll just leave you to your work now, and go check up on Dr. Stevens!” he awkwardly said, “So bye…”

“Wait!” BB called.

Spirit turned around, BB had crawled out from under the table and was gathering papers. She spun around and timidly held out the papers to Spirit.

“If you’re going to see Dr. Stevens, then could you take these to him?” Book Butterfly asked.

Spirit took the papers and nodded, “Sure thing.”

With a tense sigh, BB went back to her chair.

“Better get back to researching, or Pensive will have my wings on a silver platter,” she joked.

“Best of luck to you,” Spirit encouraged, though slightly creeped out. BB set to work immediately; Spirit, with papers in tow, left BB to her research in the archives.

Spirit made his way back towards the dining room where they had set up all the decorations. He recalled that Stevens had gone to find Omen, a pegasus with the gift of Divination. Though Spirit just thought of it as a way to cheat at poker.

He made his way towards Omen’s room, no doubt he would have found something by now. Whether it was about Daemon or not had yet to be seen.

As he approached, a loud scream echoed out from his room. Spirit dashed to the door and threw it open. Inside was Stevens, contently sitting at the small standard issue kitchen in Omen’s room. Spirit looked around a bit more and noticed Omen, stuck to the ceiling like a frightened cat would stick to a sofa.

“Omen! Are you alright? I heard somepony scream,” Spirit asked.

Stevens gingerly sipped a small tea cup, he looked up at Spirit.

“Ah how nice of you to join us Spirit,” he commented, “We were just discussing Omen’s recent attempt to locate Daemon when an unexpected visitor arrived.”

“Visitor?” Spirit raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

Omen trembled as he attempted to hold on to the ceiling, the feathers of his wings fluttering sporadically. He made a motion to the table. Spirit fully entered his room and examined the table. Tarot cards laid strewn about, a few candles decorated the center, and what appeared to be a incense burner sat in the middle of the candles; burning something that smelled like lavender. Glancing around the room, Spirit saw a slew of mystical fortune teller things: herbs, crystals, candles, dream catchers, etc. He couldn’t find this unseen visitor however.

Spirit looked back at Stevens, who motioned to the table as well. Spirit took a second look, and upon further inspection, he saw a small black spider sitting on the Death tarot card.

“Seriously Omen? A spider?” Spirit chastised.

“Spirit you know that I was cursed to die by an arachnids venom! I’m terrified of that thought,” Omen stuttered, “Just get that monster out of here!”

Rolling his eyes, Spirit picked up the tiny arachnid and led him to the door. With a flick of his hooves he swatted the spider out into the hallway. He turned back, slightly annoyed at Omen’s cowardice. Slowly, Omen loosened his grip and gingerly floated down. Spirit went back to the table and took a seat.

“So I take it that the search isn’t going so well?” Spirit asked.

“Unfortunately, you would be correct,” Dr. Stevens replied. He took another sip from his cup; calmly setting it down, he reached for the tarot deck. “All we’ve been able to gather is that Daemon is faced with a darkness he’s met before.”

“So it could be…” Spirit started. He was reminded of what Book had said before, about how Pensive suspected that Slendermane was involved. He pulled out the papers that BB had given him. “Say, Stevens. A pegasus from the archives asked me to bring you these. They might be important.”
Steven levitated the papers from Spirit’s grasp and began to read them immediately. It was only a matter of moments before Steven set them down and looked back up at Spirit.

“So Pensive suspects Slendermane as a possible culprit for the camera cutting out, fascinating…” Stevens started, “Omen, do you still possess that fragment of Slendermane’s tie?”

“Yeah, but I keep that locked away. The thing has bad mojo written all over it,” Omen answered, “What did you have in mind?”

“Go get it; we’ll need it for finding Daemon,” he answered back. Omen got up from the table went to his bed sitting in the far corner of the room. He pulled out an engraved box from under the bed and began to rummage in it.

“Wait… You’re not thinking of using clairvoyance are you?” Spirit questioned. Along with Omen’s precognition, he could also use the power of clairvoyance-- also annoying when playing cards with him-- which allowed him to receive visions of other places or ponies when in contact with an item associated with them.

“If it is Slendermane we’re dealing with, then we need to know where he is as quickly as possible. He can travel great distances in a fraction of a second, and if he has Daemon, then we won’t have much of a chance finding him otherwise,” Stevens explained.

“That’s true but,” Spirit looked over at Omen, “If Omen manages to see Slendy, then there’s no telling if he’ll be okay afterward.”

“You don’t have to worry Spirit,” Stevens comforted, “If anything goes wrong then I can handle it; I am a doctor after all.”

Omen triumphantly returned with a small piece of red fabric. He removed the incense from the center of the table and began to draw a hexagram with a piece of chalk. As he worked on the ritual Spirit grew a worried look on his face. He had known both Stevens and Omen for quite some time after joining Paranormals, but he also knew that Stevens could be a bit questionable with his method of treating ‘patients’.

“Some days I question whether you really are a doctor,” Spirit commented, “I mean, most doctors don’t typically use a chainsaw when they work.”

Dr. Stevens grew a slightly sinister smile, “I’m not a typical doctor, I like to take risks.” Spirit noticed that Steven’s eye was slightly twitching, almost like a nervous pulse.

“Alright! The circle is complete!” Omen blurted, “Let’s not worry about whether Steven’s is legally allowed to work on ponies. Let’s just get this over with so that we can find Daemon and get him back here for the party.”

Stevens quickly regained his composure, “Right, let us begin then.”

Omen set the scrap of fabric in the center of the circle, he set six candles around it forming a hexagram; each had a unique color: red, blue, pink, yellow, green, and purple. He plucked a single feather from his wing and gently laid it across the red piece of cloth.

“One candle for each element of harmony, and a piece of myself to bind to the owner of the cloth,” Omen explained, “Do you mind grabbing the lights Spirit?”

Spirit nodded and flicked off the artificial lights with his magic; the room became very dark. A pale violet glow from Stevens's horn illuminated the area slightly. With a swipe of his head, the candles all flickered with the red orange glow they were all used to.

“Thank you Stevens, now for the fun part,” Omen apprehensively said. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply in a meditative state. The candles wavering almost seemed to be in time with each passing breath. The air felt heavy, yet calming; Spirit could feel the charge of magical energy in the air. Worry gnawed at his insides though; fears about Omen’s safety began manifesting. He kept quiet however, so he wouldn’t break his concentration.

“I think I see him!” Omen rejoiced, “He’s moving through a forest!”

“Is Daemon with him?” Spirit quickly asked.

“I think so, yeah! There he is! He looks like he’s passed out!” Omen responded.

Spirit gave a sigh of relief.

“Can you describe the forest they’re in?” Stevens inquired.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s a red silo, and many tall pine trees; I think there’s a large dead one just up ahead, and a dirt trail that leads right to it!” Omen described. As he gave more detail, Stevens jotted them all down on one of the papers Spirit had given him. He had almost a complete idea of where he was, when a cold presence suddenly filled the room.

Spirit looked in utter shock as one of the candle’s flame turned from a vibrant orange to a dark blue; almost a complete black.

“Um, Omen?” Spirit started.

“Wait, I think he’s slowing down,” Omen interrupted, “It looks like he’s looking around for something.”

Still looking at his notes in the dim light, Stevens asked, “Can you see what he might be looking for?”

To Spirit’s horror, he saw the rest of the candles turn to the dark blue coloring. They flickered sporadically, almost putting themselves out.

“Omen, the candles!” Spirit tried to warn.

“I think he’s turning around, he’s still looking,” Omen continued, “I don’t know what he’s looking for. Gah!” He screamed, “He just looked in my direction! Sweet Celestia, he’s creepy! I’ll just adjust my position.”

Spirit saw Omen concentrate even harder, sweat was starting to drip from his forehead despite the room suddenly getting cold. Suddenly, Omen’s face grew frightened; he began quivering in his seat.

“He-he’s still looking at me!” Omen panicked, “I-I think he can see me!!” The candles simultaneously flickered out. Omen shrieked. Spirit immediately flicked on the lights and grabbed the feather. The cloth clung to it like a magnet. Omen fell to the ground and was trembling, crying out in pain as if something were attacking him. Spirit desperately tried to separate the cloth and feather; a thin strand of smoke flared from the tip to the cloth. Stevens bolted to Omen trying to calm him; he checked his pulse, it was erratic like someone was zapping him with electricity. Omen screamed at the top of his lungs.

Stevens levitated a blank parchment and frantically jotted down a distress message. With a flick of his horn the page erupted into green flame, the smoke message fled out the door and towards it’s destination.

Spirit strained to pry the two items apart, he poured all his magical energy into pulling, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Come on! Give it up!” He huffed, “Just let go of him already you son of a manticore!”

A shock of energy suddenly cut off his magic, Spirit growled and grabbed a candle.

“You want to play dirty, then I will too!” He shouted at the cloth. Lighting the candle, he held the cloth end to it and it immediately caught flame. The cold of the room vanished, and the feather and fabric drifted apart; the scrap completely engulfed in fire.

Omen stopped moving, Stevens checked his vitals and sighed in relief.

“He’s alive, probably fainted from shock,” Stevens reasoned, “How did you think to do that?”

“What? The candle? I guess you could call it instinct,” Spirit answered.

“Fascinating, remind me to ask you about that later when we don’t have a crisis on our hooves.”

At that moment the doors burst open and a flood of personnel came through. They had medical supplies and a stretcher. Loading Omen into the stretcher, Stevens stood and grabbed his notes. Nonchalantly he straightened out his coat and mane. Stevens started to follow the entourage of personnel, he quickly turned back to Spirit.

“Right, uh, someone is going to have to tell Pensive about this. I’m obviously tied up at the moment, so could you take these to her?” He asked as he levitated the papers to Spirit, “Oh, and could you break the news about what happened to Omen gently? You know how she gets when one of her own gets hurt.”

“No problem,” Spirit begrudgingly agreed, “Just go.”

“Right, well then let’s make sure Omen doesn’t die today,” He told himself, “Just a normal day at the office.” With that, he raced down the hallway to catch up to the other medics.

All by himself, Spirit just rubbed his forehead in an attempt to rid himself of his headache.

“Just another day at the office.”

Chapter 3: Pensive, Playing, and a Pegasus

“You did what?!” Spirit’s ears rang from the volume in Pensive’s voice. Pensive was always like this when she was angry or worried, but now she was both angry and worried; meaning it would be double painful for Spirit if he said the wrong thing. Spirit could see the stress starting to take it’s toll on her; her usual well groomed black mane and peek-a-bangs were in disarray, and her gray coat was matted. The one thing not affected was her red bowtie that she always wore.

“We were following up on your hunch about Slendermane, and Dr. Stevens suggested that we try using Omen’s clairvoyance,” Spirit explained, “Like I said a moment ago; we found Daemon, but Omen was attacked somehow, and he’s being looked after now by Stevens.”

“Why did you think that using a visual method of finding him would be a good idea?” she argued, “We know from all known encounters with him, that prolonged visual contact causes serious mental injury! So why in equestria would you think that clairvoyance would be a good idea?!” She was fuming from every angle, the anger held in her one hazel eye and one red eye was chipped away at Spirit’s nerve. Her red eye was even more intimidating due to the pentagram shape the iris held. At the same time though, it always intrigued him how it became that way, but scary none the less.

“I was personally against the idea,” Spirit pointed out, “I was just doing a favor for some pegasus mare down in the archives when Stevens came up with the idea.”

“A pegasus mare? What did she have you do?” Pensive asked.

“Well you would know, you were the one who sent her there,” Spirit snapped back.

“I never sent anypony to the archives,” Pensive stated, “Who was this mare? Did you get her name or ID number?”

“Well her name was Book Butterfly, as for her ID…” Spirit didn’t recall asking for her ID. Every official employee of Paranormals carries an ID card that certifies their place in the foundation. Since security to enter the facilities was always so tight, he figured that she must’ve had hers in order to get in. “I didn’t get it.”

“Book Butterfly, Book Butterfly…” Pensive pondered for a moment. A dark red aura emanated from her left eye- the pentagram eye- and a pencil began levitating in front of her. Like a child twiddling their hair in times of high stress, Pensive liked to levitate pencils and twirl them, it was her way of dealing with anxiety. Being one of the directors of Paranormals, was a very strenuous job, so it made sense that she developed little habits like pencil twirling. However, the most important thing that Spirit learnt while dealing with Pensive, is that you never push her to the point where she starts snapping pencils. Ponies tended to leave her office by window when that happened, and Pensive’s office was on the second story.
She snapped her head back up, “That’s right, Book Butterfly! She’s one of the trainees in the research department. Today was a job shadow for all the advanced trainees. The instruction department said that one of their pupils had not returned from job shadowing, and had filed a missing pony report. Book Butterfly was the name of the student.”

“That’s probably why she acted so shy around me, it was like a fan meeting their idol for the first time,” Spirit recalled.

“It was mentioned that she had a particular interest in the field work of Paranormals and it’s employees,” Pensive added, “You and Daemon are some of the best we have, it makes sense that she would see you like an idol.” She set the pencil in the pencil jar and continued, “It’s probably why she didn’t go back with her mentors either.”

“Why would that be?” Spirit asked.

Pensive shot him an annoyed look, “Think about it; you come here on a job shadow with the secret intention of meeting your idols. You hear that one of them has gone missing, and being a smart individual, make an educated guess that Slendermane is involved. Wouldn’t you want to prove that you’re right? And help that missing idol?” She theorized, “Smart mare, if she wasn’t a student I would commend her, but this won’t go unpunished.” She began to walk towards the door, “Come on Spirit, let’s go get her, at the very least we can get her back to the instructors, at best…” She hesitated at the doorway and turned her head to Spirit, “Let’s hurry, we don’t want to find that she left in the time that we’ve been talking.”

“Right,” Spirit started to follow her out.

“Oh, and Spirit,” Pensive levitated another pencil next to her head, “I haven’t forgotten about what happened to Omen,” She snapped the pencil in two. “You, Stevens, and I are going to have a long conversation after all of this; am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am!” Spirit choked out.

“Good, now let’s get going.”

………………………………

The clitter whistling of crickets rested in the night as the wind rustled the foliage of the forest, sending chills into the air. Daemon wearily opened his eyes, his head still pounded with remnants of static humming. He slowly tried to raise his head, but the drumming made it difficult. With all the strength he could muster, he stumbled to his hooves. Still a little dizzy, he fumbled into a chain link fence that was a few hoof lengths away.

“Oh, this is worse than that rollercoaster in Whinnyland, bleh…” he groaned, “My head is spinning so fast, not good.” He stood there leaning against the fence while his head finally cleared the rest of the static. Under the pale moonlight, he could see a dirt trail to the side of him, and the chain link fence running perpendicular to it. As his vision cleared, he could make out the silhouette of a large tree, it didn’t appear to have any leaves on it.

“Is this-?” He cringed in pain as the injuries from before started to throb. Daemon recalled the last time he encountered Slendy, it had been in a forest as well, he had memorized every square inch of the place in order to make his last attempt as successful as possible. He would have to explore this place a little if he was to be sure if it was the same forest.

Daemon regained his balance and started down the dirt trail, albeit very slowly. His side ached and pained, and his throat still felt as though it were being choked.

As he came upon the first split in the road, a cloud eclipsed the moon, sending the forest into darkness. In the dark Daemon could make out a beam of light that pointed towards the barren tree. The source was a small flashlight attached to a neck strap, his flashlight. He picked it off the ground and examined it.

“Hey! My camera is gone!” He cried. Immediately his throat punished him for his volume; Daemon coughed in agony. “Camera shy much, Slendy?” He then whispered.

Even in the midst of all this terror, Daemon still felt the need for making wise cracks, even if Spirit wasn’t there. It was funny, how a simple habit of making Spirit laugh could become a part of him. He remembered when he and Spirit were kids and had made that Ghost hunting club. Though he had the power to see a ghost’s last moments, he had always been jealous of Spirit and his gift to help those ghosts. It made a great combination though, he would see how they died, and then Spirit could use that knowledge to help them to the other side. It worked so well most of the time, but he could remember the first few times that they tried to be ghost hunters, how cowardly they were, especially Spirit.
Years of practice had steeled his nerves into the stallion he was today, but Daemon remembered the scared little colt that he once was. Often times they would be exploring an abandoned building when Spirit would just break down sobbing from all the fear he felt, and he had been there to help him to calm down. He would crack a joke, or try to make the fear seem funny, or even pull silly faces in order to make Spirit feel brave. In return, Spirit always protected him from the living; all the bullies that would pick on them for being different, Spirit could drive away with a tough stallion attitude.

So while Spirit became a brave soul that could find the courage to face anything, Daemon became a clown that tried to cover his own fears with jokes. Through the years, even when he worked a case alone, his fun loving attitude stayed with him.
He started down the trail again, a smile had grown on his face from the nostalgia trip; he would have to thank Spirit when he got back to Paranormals for all the times he protected him. He would have to thank all his friends back at Paranormals for everything they did for him. Dr.Stevens was very kind to him when he first got there, he showed him the ropes and explained how Paranormals worked. Omen was the first true friend he made there, always being a helpful insight into what he was going against when preparing for a mission, and fun to beat at in card games. Then there was Pensive, though she could be scary and cold sometimes, Daemon felt that she really cared for all of them deep down, and maybe could be really sweet if she wanted to. Over the years, those three became family to him like Spirit did when he was a colt; it was hard to believe that five years had already gone by.

“I wonder if they remembered that today was that anniversary?” Daemon pondered.

Before long, Daemon came upon the decrepit tree; it’s long branches hung high into the sky as a reminder of what it once was. One thing was clear, he was definitely in the same place as when he found the eight pages. He examined the trunk, sure enough, a single white page hung from the bark.

“Very peculiar,” Daemon said half-mockingly, “This note isn’t a normal note.” He looked at it closer with his flashlight; the note said one thing: give it back. He grasped the page in his hoof. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to give back, but if it’s a rematch you want, it’s a rematch you’ll get!” He croaked. Daemon ripped the page from the tree, and the thundering echo his arrival began.

………………………………

Spirit and Pensive approached the archives silently. As they peered inside, they could see BB working frivolously away at her notes. The once slightly littered desk was now piled high with books of all sizes. BB gently hovered in the air, examining the books from the higher shelves.

“Is this the Ruger Brother’s book to the Supernatural?! Only ten copies of this were ever made, including the original manuscript! I wonder which it...” She seemed to flutter in the air from excitement, “I don’t believe it! This is their original copy! You can still see the line marks from the erasing and usage!” She excitedly landed and cracked open the book, it looked extremely worn from age. “I swear, when I become a full time member of Paranormals, you’ll be the first one I fix,” she affectionately said to the book.

Pensive made a motion to go retrieve her, but Spirit held up a hoof to signal to wait.

“You talk to the books you read?” Spirit stepped in from the doorway. BB jumped in fright.

“Gah!” she screamed, “Mr. Charity! I didn’t see you there!” She gave a sigh of relief, “Sorry I freaked out on you, I didn’t expect you to come back after creeping you out before. Did you give Dr. Stevens the papers I gave you?”

“I did, but those papers ended up getting my friend Omen seriously hurt,” Spirit explained, “I can’t really blame you since you were working under Pensive’s orders, but it’s a shame that it ended up like this.”

“Omen Skies got hurt…” Book muttered, “Did they say if he would be okay?”

“You don’t have to worry about it; it wasn’t your fault that he tried to use clairvoyance to find Slendermane,” Spirit answered. He knew it was cruel to be torturing the young mare like this, but he was curious if she would tell the truth.

“Why in the world would he use clairvoyance?” BB questioned, “All encounters with Slendermane report that visual contact is very detrimental to one’s health. Scrying would’ve been the better option.”

Spirit could feel the hot gaze of Pensive from the shadows outside of the room; it was as clear as if she had said ‘I told you so’.

“The point is, Omen got hurt because of information that you gave. Are you sure that Pensive was the one who authorized it? Or was it another pony perhaps?”

BB’s face flushed with an obvious guilt, she wasn’t to smart when it came to hiding her emotions. She couldn’t meet Spirit’s dark blue eyes.

“I, uh…” she started to say, “I’m sorry Mr. Charity…”

“Huh, what for?” he said innocently.

“I may not have been as truthful as you thought,” BB continued, “I’m not here under Director Pensive’s orders.”

“Then who are you here for?”

“No one sir, I’m not even supposed to be here right now…”

“That makes sense,” Pensive summerized as she revealed herself, “This is the damaged archives after all. Every book, manuscript, and scroll that is damaged is sent here to be repaired, though progress is often slow due to situations like these; so it makes perfect sense that you would come here. It’s the perfect place to hide and research at the same time.”

“Ms. Pentra! I’m so sorry for being here ma’am!” BB apologised. She bowed her head in respect.

Pensive only stood there in silence; she had a serious look on her face.

“Ms. Book Butterfly was it?” Pensive inquired, “Your mentors filed a missing student report to me just a couple of hours ago, saying that one of their top honors trainees had gone missing. I think this goes without saying, but they were referring to you”

“Oh…” BB lowered herself in shame, “I didn’t mean to make them worry, I just…” she lowered her voice to a nearly inaudible level.

“Ms. Butterfly, there is going to be some serious consequences for your reckless actions today. You disobeyed your instructors, pretended to be under orders from myself, and indirectly caused our resident psychic to be in critical condition; these are grounds for expulsion from our program, and there would be no second chances for getting back in,” Pensive stated, “Before we take you into a holding cell until your superiors arrive, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

BB stood shaking there for a moment, tears had started forming in her eyes, and her lips were quivering in guilt and fear.

“I know there’s no excuse for what I’ve done,” BB squeaked, “but will you at least use what I have to help find Daemon?!” she pleaded.

“And why should we do that? Your ‘research’ nearly got Omen killed!” Spirit blurted.

“My papers never said anything about clairvoyance or trying to find him! Just that objects that Slendermane has touched have strong energy that could be traced!” BB rebuttled, “I never thought you would try doing something like that! I just wanted to help Daemon since he saved me!” she covered her mouth in shock. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout…”

“Wait wait wait,” Spirit stuttered, “You know Daemon? How?”

“He… he saved my life once,” BB started, “I didn’t always want to be a paranormal investigator, but after that night when Daemon saved me. I wanted to dedicate my life to supernatural studies, so I could help him…” Spirit could see tears start to streak down the younger pony’s face. She started sniffling in sadness, “I-I need to make it up to him, he got hurt because of me. I need to repay him, so please, take what I’ve got and go save him. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him before I could repay that debt.” She was sobbing by this point, it was clear that Daemon was her true hero, even more than Pensive or even Spirit.

“Hey, there’s no need for tears. I think me and Pensive can both agree that anything you’ve uncovered will be helpful,” Spirit consuled, “Isn’t that right Pensive?”

“Um, right…” Pensive cleared her throat, “The research you’ve put together will no doubt be of help. It did confirm that the monster involved was Slendermane, that’s more than most of our scientists have put together.” She walked to the table and began to levitate all of the books and papers BB had gathered. “In light of this, I’m prepared to postpone your punishment until this is all sorted out, and…” She pulled out a pencil and began to write on a blank sheet of paper, “This will get you into the official archives a couple of floors up, I’m sure that the bigger array of information will be better than a bunch of beat up old books.”

Book looked at her astonished, a smile came to her face as she wiped away her tears.

“Thank you miss Pentra! I promise I won’t let you down!” BB sniffled in happiness.

“Good, now go get to work! I want all countermeasure possibilities in two hours. We’re going after him,” Pensive turned her back and left the room, leaving both Spirit and BB in awe.

“Right ma’am! I can assure you the results will be stellar!” BB called after her.

“I have no doubt they won’t be,” Pensive whispered to herself. She started in the direction of the medical wing.

Chapter 4: Hope

Run. That was all that Daemon could do, run. Despite the pain in his head and side, he kept running. The flashlight around his neck flickered nervously, almost completely dead. Daemon had already collected four of the eight pages and had only seen Slendermane a few times from a distance, but he knew his luck was running thin. The very air around him was charged with a fearful intensity.

Daemon cut his way through the forest directly towards the peculiar building and rusted tankers. He rested on the side of the brick building, trying to catch his breath. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, yet he was shivering from the cold of the night. His heart was pumping a million beats per second, and adrenaline was the only thing keeping him standing. In his moment of respite, he looked at the notes he had collected.

“‘Give it back’, ‘Thief’, a picture of some weird tree, and ‘No escape’; It’s like Slendy thinks I stole from him or something,” Daemon panted, “Just gotta keep going, no turning back now.”

Daemon continued into the building, he carefully inspected the walls of each room. Finally he came upon another note inside the final room; it read: Retribution will be paid. Daemon snatched it from the wall and turned to leave. A large volume of static filled his ears, Slendy was standing right behind him.

Daemon immediately closed his eyes and bolted past Slendy, shoving him off balance in the process. Once past him, Daemon shot open his eyes and ran for the exit, sprinting at full force.

As he shot out back into the frigid night air, a sickening thought came to mind.

“What’s going to happen this time if I manage to get all eight pages?” He asked himself half out of breath. The last time he collected the eight pages, he blacked out and ended up in the medical wing of Paranormals. Would it be any different this time? Or would he not survive to find out? Slendy seemed to be extremely angry at him for stealing something that he didn’t know even existed. The situation seemed hopeless… he stopped for a moment. Daemon gave himself a painful slap to the face.

“No! I’m not going to give up now! I just gotta focus; If push comes to shove, what am I going to do? Play hide-and-seek for the rest of my life?” he asked himself. Daemon thought for a moment, letting his breathing slow itself. He walked over to the tankers; though the tanks had rusted considerably, he could still see his reflection on the metal’s less corroded surface. He stared into his reflection; Daemon swore he could see his friends standing there next to him, and if he listened, he could almost hear them.

“You really are in trouble, aren’t you?” reflection Stevens asked, “But don’t worry, if anything happens, I’ll be there to put you back together.”

“And I’ll be there too!” reflection Omen added, “I can already foresee that everything will be fine, no need to worry about it! Of course, I probably will…”

“Don’t you dare think about dying on me Shade,” fake Pensive ordered. She always called him by his last name, only occasionally slipping up and calling him Daemon. “I would never forgive you if you let yourself get beaten by this demon. You better not lose hope yet!”
Daemon found himself smiling, it seemed that he wasn’t alone in this situation; he always had his friends there at his side. The fake Spirit stepped forward.

“That’s more like it Daemon! As marish as it sounds, I can’t imagine you not smiling like an idiot all the time. I never took you for the type that gives up so fast, so prove me wrong again,” fake Spirit said with a huge grin on his face, “Keep going, you’ll find a way out of this; you always do.”

The mirages disappeared, and Daemon could only smile at that point. He looked around at the tankers, and saw a page gently swaying from one. He didn’t even bother to read it, he just snatched it up and turned to face the clear night sky.

“I know you’ll find me guys. I’ll hold out as long as I can, but I’m trusting you to find me,” he called to the sky. Hearing the distinct sound of static behind him, Daemon dashed into the forest once again.
………………………………………………

Pensive quickly trotted into the medical wing of Paranormals. She fully trusted Spirit to look after Book Butterfly while she worked. She needed to see how Omen was doing in preparation for the rescue mission. Turning the corner, she came to the hallway of all the scientists recruited into Paranormals. Pensive only had to walk a couple doors down when she came to Stevens’s room. She knocked on the door.

Pensive had known Dr. Stevens even before she started as a director of Paranormals, back when she had been a case of Paranormals. Despite him being twice her age, Pensive considered Stevens a close friend and a helpful second in command. Pensive could always trust him to take charge should anything happen to her, and knew that he could run her part of Paranormals without her around. Stevens was a teacher to her; he taught her about leadership, ghost hunting, and even magic after her brother’s death.

Stevens opened the door, Pensive could hear another pony’s breathing from inside.

“Ah, Pensive! I knew you would be visiting us sooner or later. Please come in,” Stevens gestured for Pensive to enter.

Upon entering, Pensive saw Omen asleep on the patient's bed. He had a bandage covering his eyes and an IV drip connected to his front leg. An audible sound of breathing came as his stomach rose and fell. His once blond mane had darkened to a golden yellow, accenting his yellow coat.

“Is he going to be okay Stevens?” Pensive asked.

“All things considered, I’m surprised he isn’t more injured,” Stevens answered, “He just passed out from shock. No physical injuries were found when we rushed him to the ER, so we just brought him back to my room for some rest and a psychoanalysis.”

“I see,” Pensive turned to face Stevens, “Tell me Stevens, was it worth it?”

“Well we did locate Daemon, if that’s what you meant,” He answered. Pensive shot him a glare. “That’s not what you meant, okay...”

“Stevens, you could’ve done a million different methods for finding Slendermane besides clairvoyance: scrying, psychic navigation, Tarot readings, anything!” Pensive yelled, “So why clairvoyance? The paper you were given doesn’t even mention it.”

“It was the quickest way to see if Daemon was with him. Sure, scrying or psychic navigation may have been safer options, but what good does it do us if we know where Slendermane is and not Daemon?” Stevens rebuttled.

“It was a dumb and risky move, and now Omen has payed the price!”

“Pensive, you’re thinking with your heart right now. Think logically, Omen isn’t dead and we know where Daemon is. We’ll know for future events that clairvoyance should not be used to find Slendermane.”

“Logically? I’m thinking that you did this on purpose to see what would happen if a psychic saw Slendermane spiritually!” Pensive accused.

“And do you have any proof to this accusation?” Stevens answered back.

“I’ve known you for ten years Stevens, you don’t think that I’d know when a chance to ‘experiment’ comes along?” Pensive glared at Dr. Stevens. “Sometimes you have to think with your heart if you want to prevent a disaster! It’s cold-hearted ponies like you that lead to deserters that join the Spectral Syndicate!” Pensive recalled the group of ponies who had disagreed with Paranormals’s ‘Cold not Cruel’ policies, and had deserted the organization. They had formed their own agency for finding anomalous objects and supernatural phenomena called the Spectral Syndicate, because of their similar goals to Paranormals, they have been feuding with them ever since.

“The Spectral Syndicate are nothing but a ragtag group of delinquents who wanted to use the supernatural power of the afterlife for themselves,” Stevens commented.

“This isn’t about the Spectral Syndicate! This is about your apathy towards other pony’s safety!” Pensive shot back, “I don’t know what you were doing before coming to Paranormals, but you don’t just put another’s life on the line like that!”
Stevens’s face filled with shock, he looked down solemnly at the ground. He didn’t respond to Pensive, he just stared silently, not even looking Pensive in the eye.

“I’m sorry Stevens, that was out of line,” Pensive started, “I didn’t mean to--”

“Don’t bring up my past again,” Stevens shakily said, “That stallion is dead to me, and I never want to become him again,” he spat. Stevens tried to regain his composure, “Sorry, that was out of character for me. I don’t get so shaken this easily; I’m sorry Pensive.”

“I guess we both can get carried away by our emotions, huh,” Pensive glanced over at Omen; she saw him stir, “Omen?”

“Ugh…” Omen groaned, “What happened? Why is everything so dark?” He tried to sit up, but Stevens pushed him back down.

“You’re still recovering from that psychic attack, try and relax,” Stevens comforted, “I need to ask you some questions, if you’re up for it.”

“But why is it so dark? I can’t see anything!” Omen complained.

“You have a bandage around your head; let me take it off for you,” Stevens slowly unwrapped the bandages from Omen’s head, he lazily fluttered his eyes and immediately began to squint.

“Umm, are the lights off or something? I still can’t see much.”

Pensive and Stevens looked at each other with a concerned look.

“Omen the lights are--” Pensive tried to say.

“What can you see?” Stevens interjected.

“Wha-What can I see?” Omen repeated, “Well there’s a purple glow in front of me, kinda looks bright near the top; and there’s a gray light right next to it, but there’s a splotch of red near the top-- near the right side, or would it be it’s left?”

“What else?” Stevens began to jot down notes on a sheet of paper excitedly.

“Everything else is really dark, I think I can see some outlines of like a wall or something. I can’t really tell,” he sputtered, “Am I blind?!”
Pensive was in shock while Stevens eagerly continued, “Does anything change when I do this?” He flicked off the lights.

“No, but that doesn’t answer my question!” Omen panicked, “What if I’m never able to see another spider again? How will I be able to do tarot? This is a disaster!” He catastrophised.

“This- This is incredible! I’ve never seen anything like this!” Stevens was baffled beyond belief. He flicked the lights back on and immediately set off to his desk.

“I don’t think you’re entirely blind Omen,” Pensive walked to Omen’s side; he shuffled to the other side of the bed. “I think you can see Steven’s and my magical aura.” Pensive was just as fascinated as Stevens.

Omen glanced down at his hooves and yelped.

“My hooves! They’re all glowy yellow!” he screamed.

“Omen! Get ahold of yourself!” Pensive yelled back, “What is the last thing you can remember?”

“Remember? That’s right…” he trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, “I remember seeing Slendermane, in that forest, and he looked right at me. I tried cutting off the spell, but it was like it was holding me there, forcing me to stay. I thought I heard a voice in my head, but there was so much static…” he stopped for a moment, his hooves quivering in fright. “I thought it said something like, ‘stare into the abyss too long, and you will stare with the abyss’s eyes’ and then it felt like something was gouging out my eyes. There was so much pain; I was screaming, and I think Stevens was calling for me, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, there was only static. I guess I fainted after that...”

“Incredible,” Stevens muttered, “The attack seems to have left you with the ability to see the world as Slendermane does!” Stevens trotted back to Omen’s side and started to shine a flashlight into his eyes. “The iris color has dulled immensely, but no signs of cataracts or glaucoma…” He flicked off the flashlight. “It would seem that this is a magical induced condition, how incredibly fascinating. Further tests must be run!”
Stevens pulled out the IV from Omen’s front leg, and Omen yelped.

“What was that for? What did you do?” Omen cried.

“Just removed your IV, or did you not know you had one?” Stevens asked back.

“I did feel a bit woozy… I think the lights are starting to take shape,” Omen responded, “They look like ponies… Oh! That’s you and Pensive I bet!”

“This is all so bizarre,” Pensive commented, “I’m not sure how to feel about this new development.”

“I think this will come in handy,” Stevens said.

“How so?”

“Well, with this new ability, we’ll be able to see Slendermane coming without using visual contact,” Stevens explained, “Omen can just see his aura and tell us where he is!”

“That’s true…” Pensive agreed, “Omen, are you up for a rescue mission?”

“For Daemon right?” Omen asked, “Blind or not, I’ll rescue him any time you are. Daemon’s my friend! The only friend who knows how to make me laugh when I’m scared or sad.”

“Then it’s agreed then, we’re going after him.” Pensive checked the time, only an hour remained until showtime. “Stevens, I want Omen up and moving within the next half hour. We’re meeting in my office.” She trotted to the doorway. “And Stevens, when this is all over, we need to talk.”

“Understood Ms. Pentra,” Dr. Stevens responded.

“Good, the climax of this story is just around the bend, and there will be no surprises from our side, am I understood?”

“Yes Ms. Pentra.”

“Alright, then I’m off.” She walked out the door and back towards her office. Pensive had much to think about: Omen’s new ability, Book Butterfly’s research, Stevens sanity, and so many other things that she couldn’t keep it all straight.

“What would you do brother?” she asked herself. A day didn’t go by without thinking about her brother, Conspir. That day when the lights went off, and Paranormals was in pandemonium, he was the only one who thought of her. That breach was the day he lost his life, and Pensive couldn’t help but blame herself. They had almost made it out, when that pegasus showed up with a gun. There was a single shot, the roof and floor collapsed, and Conspir was gone. If only she wasn’t there to slow him down; if only she could have stopped the bullet; if only…

Pensive shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of that awful day. It had left an unremovable scar on her mind, and as a philly too. Stevens had tried his best to help her move on but…

She stopped in front of her office, and opened the door softly. Turning on the lights, she wandered to her desk and pulled out a small hoof gun. She pulled out two boxes of ammunition: one with normal bullets, and one with salt rock bullets. Pensive started loading the salt rock variety into the gun. Normal denizens of Equestria don’t normally possess a gun, in order to keep the illusion of peace, but ponies like her had to carry one for protection against the monsters of the night.

Paranormals was an organization that would collect certain objects or organisms with anomalous properties, things that couldn’t be explained with science or magic; like statues that could move when not observed, tapes that could change it’s contents every time it was watched, even a record player that could be used to mind control other ponies. These objects are given the title Supernatural Object or “S.O.” and a number to organize them. S.O.s were also classified by their difficulty to contain: S.O.s that could easily be contained are classified as green, S.O.s that are harder to contain are classified as yellow, and S.O.s that are extremely hard to contain or recapture are classified as red. Some S.O.s needed to be contained constantly, like the statue called S.O. 317, but then there were special cases like herself, that could work alongside Paranormals for the good of all of Equestria.

Then there was the anomalous creatures that couldn’t be captured or contained, and that’s where her department came in. Her department would take any case that other branches couldn’t do, things like ghosts, vampires, monsters, and all sorts of creatures only heard of in legends. When the other branches couldn’t secure it, it was called paranormal and sent straight to Pensive’s to do box. Pensive would then send one or more of her investigators to the incident in question, and have them resolve the issue. As evidence of the incidents resolution, or as a distress signal, investigators wore cameras that directly streamed back to base for observation.

When Daemon’s feed had cut out so suddenly, Pensive had immediately sent back-up, only to find the mansion completely deserted.

Pensive finally finished loading her gun; she reviewed these facts in her head to try and clear out the clutter of confused emotions.
She took a deep breath and thought of her next move carefully. She would have to put together a team to go after Slendermane and Daemon, going alone would spell disaster. She considered her options, there was a whole facility full of investigators that she knew could handle difficult jobs, but none of them had gone up against a monster of this caliber. The only ponies she knew who had encountered the Slendermane were Daemon, Spirit, Omen- just an hour ago-, Dr. Stevens, and herself. So clearly, that had to be her team. Would it be biased to take her friends? Yes. Would there be rumors after this? Yes. But she couldn’t think that far ahead just yet.

She glanced at the clock ticking on her wall, it was nearly twelve. There was a knock at her door, Pensive opened it with her magic. Outside stood Spirit, Book Butterfly, Dr. Stevens, and Omen; they all wore a determined look on their faces. Pensive invited them inside.
The hour struck midnight, it was showtime.

Chapter 5: Showtime

“Alright Book Butterfly, I gave you two hours, what do you have for me?” Pensive asked.

“Right ma’am!” Book Butterfly began to rummage through her packs on her sides, she brought out a map of a forested park area, “This is the home of the Slendermane, an old park located just outside of Phillydelphia. As the legends go, the Slendermane has eight pages scattered throughout this area, each of them a fragment of his power. They have the ability to redesign themselves to the Slendermane’s liking, and are impossible to destroy by conventional means.”

“And you’re telling us this because?” Spirit interrupted.

“I was getting to that…” BB mumbled shyly, “It is believed that if all eight pages are gathered, then the collector would be granted one wish by the Slendermane, but as seen with Daemon, this is not the case. So I believe that if all eight pages were somehow destroyed, then the Slendermane would also be destroyed with them.”

“How would we do that if the pages can’t be destroyed by conventional means?” Dr. Stevens questioned, “An unconventional mean perhaps?”

“R-right Dr. Stevens,” BB stuttered, “So I had two ideas: A. we could drown them in salt water blessed by Celestia...”

“Which we are lacking right now… sorry,” Omen admitted, “I had to use it to make chalk for my spiritual circle.”

“... and there’s B. burn them with dragon fire,” BB finished, “Dragon fire is a magical flame is said to burn anything it touches, it could possibly work.”

“Sure, let’s just call up the local dragon and ask him to burn up some papers,” Spirit sarcastically stated, “I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“Spirit, this is no time for sarcasm,” Pensive scolded.

“There is an option C.” BB cut in, “We could try talking to him.”

Everypony else looked at each other with uncertain looks. A conclusive doubt resonated among the ponies except BB.

“Out of the question, the Slendermane is a powerful monster who can’t be communicated with let alone negotiated with,” Pensive concluded, “Me and Dr. Stevens can create a pseudo dragon fire with our magic, it’ll have to do.”

“But has anypony ever tried to just talk to talk to him?” BB asked, “Maybe this is just a big misunderstanding.”

“And how would you propose we do that?” Pensive asked back.

“Well, we could try this.” BB brought out a small radio from her packs, it looked homemade from the wide assortment of parts mismatched together.

“What is that?” Spirit inquired.

“What is what?” Omen asked while looking around, “I can’t see objects that well remember.”

“It looks like a radio,” Dr. Stevens commented.

“It is a radio,” BB explained, “It’s designed to only go through the channels with static.”

“You think that one of the static channels might be Slendermane’s?” Pensive wondered.

“Yes ma’am,” BB answered.

Pensive thought for a moment, she indulged her habit and levitated a pencil. She closed her eyes and pondered every possibility, eventually she set the pencil down and sighed.

“There’s a chance that we might not even encounter Slendermane at all, but if it comes down to it…” She opened her eyes and looked straight at BB. “... We’ll try your method first, if all else fails we’ll burn the pages.”

BB’s face lighted up.

“Thank you Ms. Pentra!” she graciously said.

“Now, I want everypony with me. I’m going to teleport us as close as possible to the park,” Pensive ordered.

“Am I not going ma’am?” BB squeaked as the others circled up.

“How could we possibly get that mismatch radio working without the one who made it?” Pensive gestured for BB to come with them. “Don’t get your hopes up though, you won’t be seeing any action. That’s what we’re here for.” She said motioning to the other ponies.

“Right ma’am.”

The group gathered in a circle, Pensive standing in the middle. She closed her eyes and focussed all her will into a teleportation spell. The air thickened with magic energy, and she could feel her eye emitting magic. A slight gust of wind swirled around her as sparks of plasma shot from her surroundings. She thought only of that park and nothing else. Her magic grew in power, gathering more and more until finally she released it in the image of the park.

Pensive opened her eyes, and the group was standing in darkness, with only the moon to illuminate them. Chills went up Pensive’s spine as the brisk night air brought coldness around them. She stumbled a bit, drained from her spell. Stevens leaned in to catch her.

“Thanks Stevens,” she panted, “This place has a lot of dark magic protecting it. Getting in wasn’t easy; I don’t think it’ll be any easier to get out.”
BB switched on the radio and began to fiddle with the signal. The group began to move out, each --aside from Omen-- flicking on a flashlight and camera.

“BB, I want you to stay here with Omen. Though he’s blind, he can still protect you if anything happens.” Pensive pulled out her hoof gun. “If we find anything, I’ll send a shot in the air, but until then stay put.”

“Yes ma’am,” BB answered.

“I’ll do my best, Pensive,” Omen said.

“Then let’s go.” Pensive, Dr. Stevens, and Spirit bolted into the forest, leaving the two pegasi behind. As they sat their in tension, BB continued to adjust the signal. She was tense, slightly shaking from trepidation. Omen glanced at her, BB had a pale green aura, slightly brighter around where her wings would be. They waited in silence, both too shy to try and make small talk, until finally Omen cleared his throat.

“So would this count as your first mission?” Omen asked trying to break the ice, “I heard that you’re a student trying to make it into Paranormals.”

“Soon to be ex-student,” BB answered quietly, “I wanted to help my heroes, but instead I just got myself into trouble…”

“Oh… well at least you’re helping, that’s more than I can say. I just went and made myself blind,” he complimented.

“But I… I was the one who made you blind,” Book choked out, “It’s my fault, I shouldn't have given Spirit those papers, then you would still be able to see…”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Omen comforted, “I’ll admit that this will take some getting used to, but blaming yourself won’t help anything.” Omen stared into the sky and smiled. “It’s not all bad, at least I can still see the moon.”

BB raised her head to look at the moon as well; it was full.

“What does it look like?” she asked.

“Well, it’s big and bright and looks like Princess Luna’s magic when she raises it each night,” Omen described, “And all the little stars look like gems of magic, twinkling against the darkness. I guess that’s why Slendermane likes being outside at night; It’s more gorgeous than I remember.”

“Sounds pretty,” BB mumbled, “Still, I’m sorry for what happened. You’re not going to see me again after this, so I thought I should say it now…”

“You know that I’m a psychic right? I have a feeling that this won’t be the last time we meet.”

“You really--” BB was cut off by an ear-piercing scream in the distance, a single shot of gunfire followed. “They must’ve found him! Let’s go!” She picked up her flashlight and took to the air, stopping for a moment to find Omen still standing on the ground. “Oh! I guess you don’t want to try flying yet…” She landed and ran towards the sound; Omen followed close behind. They dashed into the uncertainty that was, Slender’s forest.

………………………………………………

Daemon was running at full speed; he had all eight pages with him and wasn’t about to let himself get caught again. His vision slightly blurred from exhaustion, he stumbled into the field where the building and tankers lied. He sprinted in total fear; the one hope that his friends would be coming for him kept him standing.

Daemon had almost made it to the tree line at the other side of the field when something caught on his hoof, causing him to tumble to the ground. He yelped in pain, and saw the eight pages scatter all around him. Daemon desperately reached for them, but his stamina had reached it’s limit. He could barely lift his hoof, let alone stand. The sound of encroaching static whispered behind him, but he couldn’t move.

Silently he panicked as the static was upon him, he could feel Slendermane’s non-existent breath on his neck. Daemon shivered as Slendermane lifted him into the air with his tentacles. The static was ringing in his ears as he was turned to face the monster chasing him. He had been caught, again, and now he knew that there was no escape from the beast’s wrath.

Daemon smiled half-heartedly.

“Give me your worst Slendy,” he taunted, “Or is this your way of pulling a joke?” The static rang in his head even harder, as if an order to be silent. Daemon screamed in agony.

Suddenly there was a gunshot, and Daemon found himself falling to the ground. The crash was cushioned by somepony catching him, it was Spirit.

“Gotcha!” Spirit called, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, you know that hike is only thirty minutes right?” He joked.
Daemon gazed up at the source of the gunfire. Pensive was levitating her hoof gun, smoke trailed from the end of the barrel. Dr. Stevens dashed over and started to examine him.

“Hey guys,” he murmured, “Slendy just stopped to say hi, that’s all. Didn’t mean to make you worry…”

“Save your words Daemon, we need to get you out of here,” Stevens explained.

“He’s really angry at me for something.” Daemon felt Dr. Stevens work coat being lain over him. “He thinks that I stole something, but we both know that the only thing I took was his pride when I beat him.”

“Do you know what was stolen?” Pensive asked as she trotted to Daemon’s side.

“I’m so glad… I’m so glad you’re all here…” Daemon incoherently mumbled. The pain wracking his body was great, but the relief he felt being beside his friends was greater. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. “I… didn’t think… I was… going to make it… I’m… so… happy… you’re…here.” Daemon’s eyes wearily shut, and everything went black to him.

“Daemon?” A distant voice called, “Daemon!”

BB and Omen came sprinting through the tree line. They were with the group in a matter of moments.

“We heard the gunshot and came running,” Omen said, “Are you all okay?”

“Yes, we’re fine. Daemon fainted though,” Pensive told the two newcomers, “Who knows what he’s been through.”

“Well let’s not stick around to find out,” Dr. Stevens added, “We need to get as far away from here as possible.”

“Why? Did you run into Slendermane?” BB asked. In that moment a sharp volume of static emitted over the radio BB carried. She brought it out and examined it.

“In..ud.rs,” the radio buzzed.

BB adjusted the frequency.

“Intruders,” the radio more clearly stated, though with some slight background static.

“Is that Slendermane?” Spirit asked, “He sounds like a toad with a cold.”

“I think it might be,” Stevens curiously answered, “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Slendermane,” Pensive yelled into the night, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re leaving, and you’re not stopping us.” She held up the eight pages with her magic, and a small ball of fire flickered below it. “We have some insurance if you want to try.”

“Fools, a weak fire will not burn my pages. You waste time with these games,” the radio hummed.

“Um guys, I think I can see him over there.” Omen pointed his hoof at a nearby tree. “There’s a lot of black and white static coming from there.”

“Keep your eyes on him Omen. Tell us if he moves,” Pensive ordered, “Let’s start with a basic question: What did you do to Omen?”

“The pegasus sees with the eyes of the abyss; eyes that I gave him. The pegasus can see past the veil into the true essence of life. He is lucky to be alive after defiling my presence with his ‘clairvoyance’.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Stevens mumbled to himself. “And why do all this? Why scatter your pages for others to find if you only intend to stop them?”

“Ponies are such utterly foolish creatures,” the radio answered, “I have seen countless many foolish ponies, but you are the most foolish of them all. A pony mad with desire is more fearsome than any demon...” Stevens reeled from that statement, he backed away slowly. “... and yet I adore such foolish ponies. Perhaps that is why I love to see them struggle towards a fruitless endeavor. A wish, even a false one, is a very powerful desire.”

“Mad with desire?” Stevens muttered, “But, I left that long ago. Am I still…” his voice trailed off.

“Calm yourself Stevens, we’re leaving,” Pensive said.

“Yes, leave, but not with the one on the soul reaper’s back.”

“Does he mean me?” Spirit asked, “Never thought I’d be called a ‘soul reaper’.”

“And why can’t Daemon leave?” Pensive inquired.

“He has stolen one of my most valuable possessions. He shall not leave until I get it back.”

“What is it that you think he stole?”

“I do not ‘think’, I know he stole from me. My quill of the black bird Monstrum.”

“A quill? I’m pretty sure the only thing he writes with is crayons,” Spirit joked.

“The night that he bested me, was the night that my precious quill went missing. In the wrong hooves, it could spell disaster for Equestria. So I intend to get it back.” Omen cringed in pain, putting his hooves over his eyes.

“Everypony in a circle!” Pensive ordered, “We will not let him get close!”

The group circled around Spirit, not letting any angle of vision go unchecked. Pensive drew her gun once again, and was on standby for any attack.

The radio growled once again, “Why do you protect him? He deserves wrath for what he has done!”

“Because he’s our friend you featherbrained idiot!” Spirit spat, “We won’t let you hurt him! Not now, not ever!”

“That’s right!” Omen added, “If this is really how you see the world, then you know that his aura is pure! He would never steal from another!”

“Daemon is a true friend that can make the darkest days seem bright. It would be unjust to let him down now,” Stevens joined.

“I will not allow you to hurt my employees!” Pensive shouted, “You’ll have to go through me first before you can lay a hoof on Daemon!”

“Please! Mr. Slendermane we all care about Daemon so much, and we know that he would never steal from you! So please, just let us leave! We won’t bother you again!” BB called.

The radio remained silent, the tension was thick as ice. They waited for an answer, or an attack. Static background noise from the radio decreased slightly, after a moment, it returned to normal.

“You all seem adamant about this, foolish ponies…” the radio answered, “I will choose to believe you, there is nothing in your souls that says otherwise. Leave, and never return.” The radio shut off, and the dark presence seemed to dissipate into the night.

The group gave a collective sigh and started towards the fence. As they approached, BB gave a gasp.

“Ms. Pentra, the pages, they’re gone!” BB exclaimed.

“No, they are right where they need to be. We wouldn’t want to make him more angry,” Pensive answered, “I guess you could say that he granted our wish.”

“Yeah…” BB stopped for a moment. “So I guess that means I’ll be getting my punishment when we get back.”

“It’s unavoidable, but yes.”

“I understand, at least I was able to help…”

“Yeah, at least you have that going for you,” Pensive began to focus her magic, “Now let’s head back.”

………………………………………………

Daemon’s eyes fluttered open to a room of white, a rhythmic sound of a heart monitor pumped in the background. He drowsily rubbed his eyes, he could make out Spirit and Omen sleeping in guest chairs. Daemon could see a banner hanging from the ceiling that read ‘Happy Paranormals Anniversary’. A smile came to his face.

“They did remember…” he whispered.

The door came open, and Stevens entered levitating a clipboard in front of him. He glanced at the now awake Daemon.

“Ah, good to see you’re awake. These two have been eager for you to wake up,” Stevens said, “Rise and shine you two, Daemon’s awake.” He nudged Spirit into Omen, and the two bolted up.

“I’m not asleep,” Spirit croaked, “Just was resting my eyes…”

“Gah I’m blind! Oh wait, that’s just the normal now…” Omen wearily stated, “Wow Daemon, I didn’t realize how white your aura is until now. It’s almost blinding.”

“Um thanks?” Daemon replied.

“So now that you’re awake…” Spirit pulled up two boxes wrapped in colorful paper. “...We can finally get the party started!”

“Ah guys you shouldn’t have!” Daemon said as the boxes were levitated into his lap. He tore into the one labeled from Omen; inside was a charm the size of a bit, it looked like a compass rose, with each cardinal direction made with a different colored crystal.

“He opened mine right?” Omen asked.

“Yes Omen, he opened yours,” Spirit answered.

“Oh good!” He pointed in Daemon’s direction, “That’s just a little charm I made for you. It’s supposed to help with navigation, since you always complain about getting lost.”

“Thanks Omen! You’re the best! Now let’s see what Spirit got me…” Daemon eagerly ripped into the other box, “Is this a new camera?”

“Well not that I’m a psychic or something, but your old one was looking a bit dead. Let’s just hope that this one is Slender proof,” Spirit said.

Daemon laughed, “Yeah I hope so too!”

The door opened once again, standing on the other side was Pensive levitating a bouquet of red roses, a green pegasus stood next to her.

“I didn’t expect you to be here so quick Pensive,” Dr. Stevens stated as he examined the vital scans from Daemon’s heart monitor.

“Pensive!” Daemon cheered, “Did you come to join in the fun too? And who’s your friend?”

“I’m just here to deliver some presents, as for her…” Pensive motioned for the pegasus, “... She had a gift for you as well.”

The pegasus stepped forward, she held out a small present wrapped in newspaper with her wings. She was blushing intensely.

“You look kinda familiar… have we met?” Daemon asked.

The pegasus looked down solemnly, almost as if she was disappointed.

“Oh wait a minute! I remember you!” Daemon said as his memory clicked into place, “You’re that little filly from the orphanage in Canterlot, Book wasn’t it? It’s been awhile! Haven’t run into any more haunted libraries have we?”

BB smiled and looked up at him.

“Yes, it’s been a long time, four years in fact. I’m glad you remember me,” she shyly spoke, “I brought you a gift while I was still allowed to be here.”

“What is it I wonder?” Daemon opened the newspaper gift. It was a hardback book entitled ‘Monsters of Paranormals’ the author...
“You wrote this? It looks so professional,” He said as he skimmed through the pages.

“It’s an encyclopedia of every kind of ghost, demon, and monster ever encountered by Paranormals,” BB explained, “It’s just my way of thanking you for saving me all those years ago. You left so quickly that I never got to say goodbye…” She turned to leave. “So bye Daemon, it was nice seeing you again…”

Pensive put out a hoof stopping her, she levitated the roses into Daemon’s lap.

“Not so fast. Daemon, there’s a little something in there from me as well,” Pensive said, “Go ahead and read it aloud.”

“Read it aloud?” Daemon examined the roses, buried in the center was a letter. He was reminded of the letter he had been sent to retrieve, the envelopes looked identical. “‘In recognition of five years of loyal service to Paranormals, it is my honor to assign you an apprentice to mentor. You will select an apprentice from the honors students of the instruction department to apprentice under you for the remainder of their studies...”

“As to the assignment of an apprentice, I think it’s clear that one pony fits the bill to a tee.” She gestured to BB, who had tears running down her face from happiness. “So what do you say? Does BB sound like a good student to you? She did help save your life.”

“That sounds like a great idea! What do you think Book?” Daemon asked.

BB was fully crying, she was sniffling in joy.

“Yes! I would be honored to work under you Daemon!” she turned to Pensive. “But what about my punishment?”

“I’ve already contacted the instruction department, for disobeying a direct order in order to save the life of an investigator, you must repair every book in the damaged archives,” Pensive answered.

BB started crying harder, but she had a huge grin on her face.

Daemon continued to read the letter, “...‘I’m also proud to present you with a bonus for outstanding performance and optimism. The total being...’ five thousand bits?!”

“What!?” Spirit shouted.

“That’s incredible!” Omen added.

“What am I going to do with five thousand bits?!” Daemon asked loudly.

The three fantasised the possibilities that five thousand bits could get them, completely oblivious to Pensive’s shortening fuse.

“You morons!” Pensive yelled, “Can you stop thinking about your wallets and think about something else for once!?”

“That’s right!” Spirit excitedly agreed, “We have a cake down in the dining hall just for this!”

“Alright!” Daemon cheered.

Pensive turned to leave in a huff, she was just about out the door when Daemon called to her.

“Hey Pensive, don’t you want to stay for cake?”

“I have a lot of work to get done, sorry,” she made to leave.

“Ah come on! This isn’t just my celebration, today- or yesterday- was the anniversary of when I met you!”
She stopped in her tracks, Pensive recalled that day vividly. Daemon had been a goofball around her then too, he had such a big smile, just like her brother…

She turned around, wiping the tears forming in her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I can stay for a slice,” she laughed.

For the rest of the day, Daemon and the others celebrated; for Daemon’s anniversary, BB’s new job, and for saving Daemon with nopony dying. It was a day worth remembering, for the laughter, memories, and of course the cake. Everypony was happy by the end of that day, but that night...

Epilogue

Liars. Thieves and pathetic liars. I allowed them to live and they sent more to destroy me. I should’ve killed them when I had the chance.
Slendermane stood amidst his forest, unable to move, he had six pairs of eyes on him, all of which were immune to his dark static. His pages had been stolen simultaneously, and he could only stand there as six creatures approached him.

“My my, Mr. Slendermane, how the mighty have fallen. Tell me, how does it feel to be beaten by the insects you’ve hated for so long?” A pegasus stepped into the pale moonlight, his coat a blood red. He dressed himself in very elegant clothing, and styled his brown mane into a very smooth regal design. Military badges decorated his coat, and a sword and radio hung from his side. He had a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes that seemed to radiate with magical energy.

“They’re a product of my own design; glasses laced with enough light magic to nullify any static you might emit. But then again, I never needed them in the first place,” he said as he tossed them to the side, revealing two scarlet red eyes.

A figure from the shadows stepped forward, “Should we finish him off sir?” The figure was a mare, she had an orange white coat, and red markings all over her body; she wore a pair of dark sunglasses as well. In the place of her tail mane, was six fox-like tails, all the same orange-white color.

“Not quite FoxFire, I think we should gather some information first,” the pegasus responded, “So Slendy? Will you cooperate? Or will I have to have my friend Rogue do a bit of convincing?”

Slendermane sensed a large presence behind him, one of a dragon, green in color. It waited patiently with the eight pages in it’s claws.

“You arrogant fool, I am not afraid of a pathetic pony like you” the radio the pegasus wore called.

“Rogue, show him we mean business,” the pegasus ordered.

The dragon held one of the pages and spouted flame from its massive jaws, the page crumbled into ashes. Slendermane cried into the static abyss, and the pegasus could hear it on his radio. In his moment of pain, he could clearly make out the auras of three more: a green insect aura of a changeling, a dark aura of a shadow pony, and a pale blue aura of a unicorn.

“Are you willing to cooperate now?” the blood red pegasus asked.

“Go to Tartarus,” he replied, “Paranormals will rue the day they dared to hurt me!”

“Paranormals?” the pegasus mockingly said, “We’re nothing like those spineless worms from Paranormals. We are much more frightening.” He took a step closer to Slendermane. “We are the Aspects of Bedlam from the Spectral Syndicate. We are not to be taken so lightly.”

Slendermane took the opportunity to lunge out with his tentacles. The pegasus unsheathed the sword from his side and slashed at the tentacles; they were immediately severed. Slendermane once again screamed, and the fox pony giggled in delight.

“Well that wasn’t very nice,” the pegasus mocked, “Burn two more pages.”

Slendermane cringed from the burning sensation of losing two more pages.

“Now you’re going to tell us…” the pegasus leaned straight into Slendermane’s face. “... where is the quill?”

“I do not answer slime such as yourself.”

“You still think you're still so high and mighty, two more pages might loosen that non-existent tongue of yours.

“I don’t have it!” Slender screamed as two more pages went up in flame.

“Oh, then who has it?”

“I don’t know! It was stolen from me a long time ago!”

“Two more Rogue.”

Slendermane cried in agony, his tormentors taking full pleasure in causing it.

“I don’t know! It was taken when the white one bested me!”

“And who is the white one?” The pegasus turned his back to him, knowing that he had won.

“An earth pony by the name of Daemon Shade… he bested me five years ago, but he does not have the quill. Somepony else stole it that night.”

“Very good,” the pegasus stated. He turned back around to face Slendermane. “I think we have all that we need for now, destroy the last page.”

“NO! You can’t!”

The pegasus laughed, “Let it be known, that on this night, that it was a normal pony who destroyed the Slendermane, and that he begged for mercy as the last page was destroyed by dragon fire.”

“You are no normal pony…”

“You got me there,” the pegasus smiled proudly, “Let it be known that War: Horse of the Apocalypse, was the one to kill the Slendermane.” He signaled to the dragon.

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Slendermane cried as his body burned with the last page. All that remained was the burnt remnants of a red tie.

“Let’s go my aspects,” War said as he brushed the ashes of Slendermane off his suit, “There is much work to be done, and somepony needs to let Famine know that I have a present for her.” He picked up the scorched tie and pocketed it.

The woods were silent from that night on.