A Chance Encounter with Death

Life for me changed after that night.

Mother and Father came home to a dead stallion on our floor, with me in a shivering ball inside a box in the attic. The police ponies came, asked hundreds of questions, but I could only shake my head and bury my face in my forelegs.

I couldnt speak or make sounds any more. The doctors said my voice had been scared away. The police ponies tried to get me to write what I had seen, but I could only draw pictures of the bloody scythe that now haunted my dreams, cutting down the Evil Pony again and again. I would snap awake, swearing I could hear that soft voice in my room.

My mom refused to ever let me out of her sight, sometimes even sleeping next to my bed holding a knife in her hooves. Dad told her to calm down, that she was being over paranoid, but she just screamed at him that it was his fault they had to go out that night, that he promised I would be safe. Eventually, Dad stopped coming home, though a check for bits would arrive in the mail each month like clockwork.

Something amazing had happened to me the night I lost my voice. I had gotten my cutie mark! It was a heart stitched together in three places, all in shades of green.

Just like Death's mane.

Over time, mom eventually relaxed, though she was still nervous a lot. A special doctor came all the way from ponyville, and prescribed some pills to help mom chill out a bit.

A year passed, and I was allowed back at school. I was feared by the other foals though, because everypony knew I had seen something bad enough to scare my voice away. So making friends wasnt something I could do.

Instead, I became obsessed with finding out who the grey stallion was. I spent hours in the library pouring over books about death, and about the legends of the pony who was death. I knew all the stages of bodily decomposition, the magical theories about souls, and all the myths about Princess Celestia and Princess Luna guiding ponies into the Great Herd of the afterlife.

My schoolmates called me a freak, and Mom made me see dozens of new doctors, fearing I had some sort of evil curse on me, though the doctors couldnt find anything. They reassured Mom it was just a phase, a way of coping and processing what I had seen that night.

They didnt know, my true purpose wasnt to work through my issues. I was searching.

It was one rainy day when I found it. The very image I had been searching for. There, on the page, was the scythe. Same blood, same handle.

Clapping my hooves with glee, I pulled out a quill to make notes.

'The scythe cutie mark is the essence of the legends of Death. It is said that he who bears this mark can turn invisible at will, and will appear right as a pony dies, ready to usher their soul into the magnificent Great Herd beyond the wall of light.

No pony has ever confirmed a sighting of this mysterious stallion, but rumours still prevail of his existence.'

He was real! I knew I hadnt dreamed him, like the stupid doctors said! He was real, and he had saved me! I gripped my quill in my teeth as I shivered with happiness and excitement.

Flipping to a new page, I wrote a new heading in big, bold letters.

“HOW TO FIND DEATH THE PONY.”

I was going to find him again. I was going to thank him, and then, I grinned, I was going to ask him what my cutie mark meant!

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sitting at the edge of the playground, I went over my plan again. Today, I was going to sneak out of school, catch a train over to Ponyville, and go to the Ever-free Forest. All of my research pointed to it being a hotspot for weird and wild magic. There were even rumours of a zebra living there!

I knew there had to be a clue to Death in that forest.

But first, I had to get out of school. I had been practising my sneaking all the time, so much so Mom made me wear a bell so I didnt 'give her a heart attack'. I had learned how to move without the stupid bell ringing too, at which point she had thrown her hooves up in exasperation and sent me to my room. Not being able to talk was a big help in that regard, ponies tended to ignore me and forget I was even there.

If I was sneaky enough, I would be forgotten at morning bell by the teacher on duty, and from there I could use the wirecutters I stole from my Dad's old shed to cut my way out of the yard.

I tightened my saddlebags, and began to sink into the corner of the sandpit. Remaining absolutely still the whole time was so important to being forgotten. Doing it too early would make the adults make a point of remembering where you were, and doing it too late created a sudden disappearance and theyd come looking for you.

'Look girls! Its the freak! Whatcha doin' freak? Tryna be a sandworm?'

Oh.

Crud.

I looked up, and sure enough Page Turner and her posse were headed my way.

They were a group of fillies, sometimes 3, sometimes 5, who lived to make my life miserable. Mostly because I couldn't talk back. They didnt do much, usually taking my whiteboard so I couldnt write, stupid stuff like that. Frustrating.

Today of all days though, I didnt want to deal with them. I had a job to do!

My eyes darted around, searching for an exit.

'Hey Worm, I'm talking to you! Whats wrong, cat got your tongue?'

How very droll, I thought,as her liitle group laughed at her stupid joke. I had to get away, I didnt have time for this!

An idea bloomed in my mind. A crazy one, but right now, crazy was exactly what I needed!

Picking up my marker in my mouth, I began to write frantically.

'Whatcha writing, Worm?' Page came closer, kicking sand at me.

I spat out my marker and dropped the board at her hooves, grinning triumphantly. I had ink splattered across my muzzle from my rush, but I knew it would work. Page stepped forward, leaned down and read the 3 words on my board.

'slugs in pit'

I laughed silently as I watched them run squealing away at top speed. Now I just had to find a new hiding place and 'Operation Everdeath' was a go!

Turns out new hiding place was wedged under some stairs. Thankfuly my coat was a dark enough purple that I blended right in to the shadows. My mane, however, was another story. I had to rub dirt all over it, so the light wouldnt get caught on the pale grey hairs.

The bell rang. I watched as the teachers rounded up all the kids, herding them into the school house. In they went, two by two, and I began to breathe easier. Today was going to work after all!

Then Page the Pig ruined it.

'Miss Sunrise! Inkblot isnt in line! She was over by the sandpit before!'

I gave a silent cry of frustration as Miss Sunrise counted the foals, confirming Page Turner's words.

'Alright, inside children!' she called. 'Get your diaries out and write about your weekend while I fetch Inkblot.'

Drat, she was trotting to the sandpit. Miss Sunrise had a giftbox for a cutie mark. She had once explained that it didnt mean presents, but always being able to find things that were hidden. Which means I was screwed, would have detention for hiding, and for being dirty. Agh!

Sunrise pawed at the pit, before her head snapped back up. Slowly, she turned towards the staircase. She knew!! I began to tremble in fear, my bell tinkling softly. Curse everything!! I had to hide my death notebook, otherwise I would have to go visit the stupid doctors again! Theyd take it all away! My research! Everything!

Miss Sunrise flared her wings as she stalked towards the staircase, her mouth set in a prim line.

'Inkblot! Come out this instant! You are tardy!' I bit my bell, muffling it. Maybe she wouldnt find me, maybe the Princesses would help me out this once!

She was almost at the stairs now. Her pastel orange hooves were thudding loudly against the pavement. I curled up even smaller, backing up away from the small hole in between the stairs.

'You have until the count of three, Inkblot.'

No!

'One.'

Nononono!

'Two.'

Nooooooo!!!

'Three.' Miss Sunrise bent down and-

Two carcoal hooves picked me up, then the world vanished.