The Hellraven

In the distance, perched on an old gnarled tree, a raven cawed. A solitary creature sitting on an old forsaken and blackened husk that was once filled with life and brimming with good.

But now it sits, a disturbing omen in the graveyard it resides in.

The raven ruffles its feathers and takes off, circling once above the misty twilight night surrounding the oddly dark area,  before landing on the shoulder of a tall pony.

The tall pony smiles slightly and lets slip a half-hearted noise of amusement.

The two trek in silence for a bit. All around them are eerily desecrated grave-markers and open mausoleums; begging for a curious traveler to come and explore.

The tall pony knows this, and smiles. Those mausoleums? Those Crypts? Oh, the horrors that lay behind them were...not for the faint of heart...or rather, not for those who still have a beating heart.

He was a simple stallion...or thing, as a stallion would imply a male of the pony species more commonly referred to as..equines.

No, he was a thing.

The tall...thing wore but a simple vest with a simple Gibus. Tattered and torn with age, it was truly a site to take in. With it's many holes and many frayed ends. With its many loose ends it vaguely resembled something dug up from a grave and worn by the dead for the dance of macabre.

Still he walked, through the deathly silent graveyard. A thick mist seemed to seep from the cracked and unsacred earth.

The stallion thing heard the voices of the dead, they whispered in his ears almost like a warm sunday breeze. Their voices so soft one would almost mistake them for a thought.

But make no mistake, the dead do not like being taken lightly.

He chuckled deeply, maliciously as he listened to the half-words. The non-words, the mumbling, the unintelligible chatter of the dead.

He was almost through this gods forsaken cemetery which acted as a gateway of sorts. A layline if you will. It was a quicker mode of transportation.

There were many laylines scattered through the world. Some were simple caves in physical forms. Some were...different. This was one of the odder laylines.

Pondering for a moment, he clicked his tongue as he finally answered a question that'd been plaguing him.

Hadn't this layline been one of the more normal ones? What'd happened to twist it in this way?

Oh simple; he had passed through here once upon a time.

Silly, silly him.

He kept walking, this time the path littered with dead tree roots and cracks within the earth where gravestones seemed to erupted from the ground seemed to finally open up.

Ahead of him were the cemetery gates, massive twin steel bars that would strike fear into the hearts of any mortal creature. With their silver tipped spear heads and towering obsidian heights, they were a natural deterrent for the living to enter this place. It was funny, in a way the gates were one of the most terrifying things about the graveyard, but really they were there to keep normal, everyday creatures safe.

Well, that is to say keep them out, and keep all the bad things in.

Beyond the gates themselves was a yawning darkness not unlike a massive cave mouth. Mist tendrils freely floated like miniature elongated hot air balloons and seemed to curl and loosen like an octopus as he passed through them.

"And he said; pass through the land of the dead and you shall be good." He muttered to himself, casually trotting by the gates. The raven on his shoulder cawed once more. The tall stallion couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, that's not quite as I remember it, is it?"

===========

Flying through the great beyond, she stretched her hooves and felt content. There was no gravity to hold her back, there was only speed and sky.

She flew and flew, endlessly into the great stretching infinity. The most beautiful of sites, with nopony to tell her to tell her otherwise. No pony to pull her from her euphoria, and no pony to stop her she flew.

She was Rainbow Dash, master of the speed and of sound and-

Why was there a raven?

One minute she was alone, free like a bird.

The next, she felt an eerie feeling, as if somepony or...something was watching her. Turning to her left, she saw the small black creature keeping perfect pace.

The sheer shock of it simply..appearing out of the blue scared her so badly she ended up smacking it with her wing like one would a fly.

Screaming, Mr. Grimm flew out of Rainbow Dash's head and face-planted into the ground, oddly enough, his hat stayed squarely on his forehead, tilting at the exact angle a horn would.

"Well I do say, that was rather rude young lady." He muttered indignantly, dusting off his mothballed and eaten coat.

Rainbow Dash for her part, fell out of the tree she was sleeping in, flailing and yelping.

"What? Why me?" She nearly screeched, her voice still a bit horse from shock.

"Well, for one, you didn't have to hit me as such. That was rude and very un-ladylike." He stated indignantly.

She huffed.

"Oh big deal. It's not like you're hurt or anything." He drew a sharp gasp.

"Young lady! It is the principle of your reaction which was, how you so eloquently put it, 'the problem'. I swear you younglings know nothing of respect and etiquette." He snorted, lifting his nose into the air in a manner that all to loudly spoke for itself.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes and snorted likewise, hers however was for a more annoyed and derisive purpose.

Well, that was before doing a double take.

"Wait a sec, how'd I hit you?" She asked. He grew a small but distant smile.

"Oh. Well, you see, I'm a rather avid fan of the dream. I have a rather horrid habit of viewing the dreams of others." He chuckled.

Rainbow Dash knew somewhere in the back of her head that what he said was wrong on some basic aspect of reality and physics, but she was all too occupied with the current question:

"Then why the hay am I supposed to apologize when you're the one peeping on me!" She shouted.

This made him stop, his eyes wide.

"....I never thought of it like that."

Dash flared her wings, taking a defensive stance with her rear up and her front down. Letting a solitary snort through her nostrils flare to life in the air, she shouted once again.

"Then go away!"

He stopped to consider a moment before nodding, a raised eyebrow and a downturned mouth signaled his understanding of her choice of words and mentality.

"Very well miss, I'll be on my way. Have a pleasant day." He tipped his hat, exposing a horn, before walking away.

Rainbow Dash shook her head furiously, sighing through her nostrils once more, trying to get the taste of that encounter of of her mind.

"Yeesh, that guy gives me the creeps." She muttered, once again nestling herself in the tree, and once more looking forward to the boundless blue yonder.

As the early bustle of the Ponyville market began in earnest, the denizens and merchants alike got a rather unexpected and curious surprise in the form of a visit.

Whilst on many a day the town would garner a fair bit of tourists and visitors, the latter usually checking in on relatives as they passed through on their ways to the Fillydelphia, Stonecolt, Stalliongrad, Appeloosa, or even the countries beyond.

Today however, their surprise came in the form of a stallion, toting a rather large raven on his shoulder. Talking to it as if it was able to respond.

"I know! But I simply must disagree! The proletariat was not a smart option at the time!"

It cawed, ruffling it's feathers.

"I know that of course! But at the time they didn't! It's a gradual thing. Ponies must see the benefits and risks of a monarchy, then they learn to govern themselves through capitalism and Democracy, then they will see the true beauty of Communism and the feeling of 'one for all'! It's been written in the very core of sentience since the beginning! I should know!"

It crowed again, flapping its wings a couple times before re-settling on the stallion's shoulder.

"You mustn't doubt your elder here! I know of this I tell you! I've been at many a countries downfall as they've taken down their tyrant only to install a ruling faction of democracy! Yes! I understand that maybe someday they'll finally understand the folly of their way but- oh now don't you quote him. Don't you do that on me. Of course I know when you're quoting him! You're my familiar for pete's sake!"

  Needless to say, he got many an odd stare and one rather hostile glare as he progressed down the main road. His destination unknown and his acts rather questionable.

That was, until he glanced upon a most peculiar site.

========

Scootaloo had quite the reputation for being a little hell starter. Some say she took after a certain cerulean mare. Others say she was flamboyant of her own right. Any way you cut it, she was a badapple, outspoken and unapologetic.

She had a reputation to keep, and secrets that would easily destroy it

For instance, a set of tap-dancing shoes, a tutu, a small gymnast's twirler. Any variety of dancing or gymnastic equipment would destroy the rough image she had made for herself.

A little known fact of the little filly was that she loved to dance, a secret only known by two of her closest friends and their elder sisters. If word was to get out, especially in the pony-eat-pony-if-you-act-girly-you-have-cooties world of hers. It was a tough world alright.

But here she was, caught with her proverbial pants down. She'd been making her way home from one of the late night dance sessions she so regularly attended when the poor filly had fallen asleep, only to be awoken as her arch-nemesi, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon gloated over the filly and teased her about her 'garish' as they so put it, tap-dancer's clogs.

"Look at her! I don't think I've ever seen such a sadder sight!" Cackled Diamond Tiara as she pointed to the blushing and flustering foal's shiny shoes.

"H-hey! Quit it!" Scootaloo could do nothing as the two bullies assaulted her with words, threats and words of shame and humiliation as they gloated over their find.

"Oh wait until the boys hear about this! I think, 'danceroo' is a fitting name don't you? You'll be wearing the title soon enough." Chimed Silver Spoon, the two cruel fillies sharing a devious giggle.

And suddenly, as if out of the blue, a shadow appeared, towering over the three. It stood behind Scootaloo, blocking out the sun.

"A wise man once told me; take no shame in what you do, or else take shame in your state of mind later." It chimed in a gentleman's base. Not too deep, but with a lilting accent that told of high culture.

"What may I do for you ladies on this fine morning?" Scootaloo looked up to the ground to be greeted by the warm smile of a rather tall, pale white stallion with a very dirty and moth eaten vest and blazer jacket along with a tall gibus filled with holes and frayed ends.

Something told her to run, as far and as long as possible. Something deep inside of her hated, loathed and feared this abomination of nature in front of her from his high cheekbones to his sickly pale white coat.

But something else told her to stay, to take a chance.

With no other alternative, she took the later option, firmly planted in the ground with jaw hanging agape.

"And who might you be?" Asked Diamond Tiara, the sass in her voice unmistakable.

"Me? Oh, a good samaritan." He replied.

"What's that?" Asked Silver Spoon, turning to Tiara as if she knew.

The stallion clucked his tongue. "Oh, pardon me. I forgot he doesn't exist in this world." he muttered.

Tiara shook her head once, clearing her thoughts of confusian.

"Well you can rest assured Mr...samaritan. Me and my...sister were only having a chat with our dear friend Scootaloo." She pointed to Scootaloo who once again downcast her eyes. Sadness filling her small heart upon Diamond's cruel enunciation of her name. It sounded as if the pomp filly was trying to spit out the disgusting aftertaste of pomegranate juice.

The stallion frowned once.

"It is pronounced 'My sister and I.' Young miss. And I certainly know a friend when I see one. You, are no such case." He stated.

This time it was Silver Spoon's turn to intrude.

"And who are you to judge?" She asked.

This time, the stallion's grin was not filled with warmth. In fact, the three fillies could feel the malice and foreboding dream flowing from it like the newly risen tide.

"The question my dear, is not who, but what. Am I to judge. And you three are in luck, for I am such a pony, or rather, such a monstrosity." Upon his last line, the light of the morning began to fade. And not in any sense due to passing of time. It began to fade due to something supernatural, something sinister.

"Many have I judged on my time on this earth, and in my eyes, I have seen the virtuous and the vile. I have seen the fortuitous and the fractured. Those of sound mine, and those who use sound to conquer mind."

The world began to become corrupted. Scootaloo's eyes widened as tendrils of black leaped across her vision, the blooming trees of early spring became replaced with sinister black gnarled carcasses. Their roots as dark as the stained souls trapped within their twisted and pointy limbs.

Where the sun should have been sat a blood red moon, the stars glistened with un-natural light.

"Stars? Moon?" She thought very, very vaguely. In the back of her mind, her sub-conscious working overtime on that particular thought which took the form of a nagging in her consciousness.

"I have seen those with wings upon their golden crested hearts, and those with shackles on theirs as they were condemned to the deepest pits. Cursing the name of that which sentenced them. Yes I have judged the many."

He turned to the three fillies, or rather half turned. His irises clouded over with glaring light. He seemed much taller, taller than was biologically possible, giving him a disjoined and un-natural look as the blood-red night of the moon reflected off the schleras of his eyes.

In the distance, Scootaloo swore she heard Ravens in the distance, flapping and cawing in agitation.

"In fact, you could say, I am the final judge." His shadow stretched and smiled, a smile more akin to a large slice across one's face than any action partaken in by the muscles of the face.

His last words were tipped with many. His voice seemed to fade as that of a young fillies, and old stallions, and a deeper, more sinister male's harmoniously, and sinisterly molded with his.

This however, snapped the two fillies out of their stupor, and they took off into the restored daytime, screaming and crying like blabbering messes.

As soon as the mysterious and disparate world came, it left, leaving only the shining, feel-good of the warm spring morning.

Scootaloo sat, firmly rooted by deep shock and equal parts fear.

"W-w-what are you?" She managed to stutter. This time the smile of warmth took dominance.

"I have many names young one. But the name I shall use for this occasion is Sir Hellraven. Sir Hellraven Grimm." He did a little bow, taking off his hat and placing it on his chest.

"But I'd much rather go by Mr. Grimm, if you would."