An Unlikely Visitor
It was around nine o’clock when Twilight decided to go bed. The mare had been up reading a book on Equestrian History. She had offered to read it to Spike, but the dragon had declined as much of Equestrian History was chronicled about the constant advancement of horseshoeing techniques. Thus, Twilight had read it to herself, and had just finished the chapter on how Cornelius Vanderhoof had developed the radical idea of using eight nails in a horseshoe instead of seven. She got up from her bed to put the book back on its shelf, when she heard a loud knocking on her door. Curious to see who would be up at this late hour of the night, the mare shelved the book, picked up her candle, and headed downstairs. The wavering flame of her candle cast eerie shadows about the dark library as she made her way to the front door. Twilight undid the lock, slid the bolt back, and opened the door.
She immediately screamed upon seeing the horrible creature that stood in the doorway. The flickering candlelight shone against a putrid canvas of cadaverous gray flesh, full of open sores where necrosis had set in. The skin covered a crooked skeleton, with a distended barrel of a ribcage. His left leg dangled from a thin cord of muscle and skin, dragging against the ground as he stood. The head was large, and a macabre smile of yellowed teeth adorned the mangy muzzle. Palled, filmy green eyes sat sunken in their sockets, half obscured by a wild, matted mess of filthy brown hair.
Twilight backed into her house, so terrified that the candle fell to the floor with a clatter, its flame extinguishing as it hit the ground. The corpse became a silhouette in the dim moonlight. The unicorn’s mouth opened in a silent scream as it reached out with a hoof towards her, and leaned forward through the doorway. His body creaked as his hoof grasped Twilight’s own in a cold, leathery embrace. The unicorn saw the shadow of his jaw as it opened.
“Good evening,” came a friendly, jovial voice with a Trottingham accent as the corpse gave Twilight’s hoof a thorough shake, “I’m Mortimer Spade. Could I perhaps trouble you for some directions? I’m terribly sorry that it’s so late in the night, but I’m afraid I can’t travel during the day without offending somepony.” Twilight sat on the floor, dumbfounded that such a lighthearted voice had just escaped the decaying lips of the cadaver. His vocal chords sounded as if they’d hardly rotted at all.
“…Excuse me?” she finally managed to choke out. The corpse suddenly moved forward into her home, prompting her to scoot back. He scooped up the candle and set it back in its holder, then produced a match from his threadbare jacket. Twilight cringed as the light from the newly lit candle illuminated Spade’s rotting features.
“Sorry about that,” he said, “Didn’t mean to frighten you. Here, let me help you up.” Before Twilight knew what was happening, the cadaver gently grabbed her hoof and pulled her to her hooves. He suddenly looked down at his own hooves. “Oh dear, I’ve tracked dirt into your house. Do you have a broom I could borrow? I’m always making messes with this old body of mine.” Twilight, was now completely baffled at what she was seeing. Before her was an actual zombie pony behaving in a most un-zombie like manner.
“Uh,” muttered the unicorn, “What did you say you needed again?”
“Some directions, if you don’t mind,” replied Spade, “Oh, and maybe a needle and thread, but directions are fine. Really, I don’t want to bother you.” Twilight now noticed that the smile on the corpse’s face wasn’t really as horrific as it first seemed. It was disgusting, no doubt, but had an innocent, kindly quality to it as well.
“Well…” said Twilight, “Where did you need to get to?”
“I’m not sure, actually,” Spade said sheepishly, “You see, I’m not really looking for a place. I’m looking for a person.” Twilight felt herself become unnerved again.
“Who?”
“The pony who murdered me,” said the corpse, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Twilight shook as though she’d been thrust into a freezing river.
“W-why would you want to do that?” sputtered the trembling unicorn, although she thought she had a pretty good idea why. Spade turned and looked over his shoulder. When he turned back he had a large, shining steel dagger clutched in his mouth. Twilight fell back as her knees gave out, her eyes wide and fearful.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry to have upset you again,” said the cadaver as he set down the dagger and helped her to her hooves, “You see, I wish to return the dagger. It’s a very nice dagger, and I’d hate to inconvenience the owner by depriving him or her of it. I just hope they can forgive me, I’ve been taking very good care of it for them.” Twilight looked at the weapon. Its surface was highly polished, its handle was made of black, lacquered ebony. She glanced back up at the corpse. In no way did he seem at all malicious or hateful. If he was truthful about his intentions, he had to be the nicest pony who ever existed.
“So…you want to give this knife back to the pony who killed you?”
“Yes,” said Spade with a nod of his head, his neck creaking loudly. Twilight tried to remain calm, though there really was no cause for alarm. It just all seemed so bizarre.
“Do you know who murdered you?” the unicorn inquired. Again, Spade looked sheepish.
“I’m afraid I can’t remember,” he said, “That’s why I came here.” Twilight questioningly raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“Well, because I’ve heard that you are quite adept at magic, and I was hoping you’d help me recall who murdered me.” Twilight frowned upon hearing this. She didn’t know out of the top of her head if she could really help him or not, or even if it was a good idea. She didn’t even know what he was.
“I’m not sure if I can help…” she said slowly, unsure of how he’d react. She had predicted that he might be offended or saddened, but rather, he simply smiled.
“Oh, well, that’s alright. No need to worry, I’ll be fine. Thank you for your time, and I’m sorry for troubling you. Now if you’d please tell me where to find a broom, I’ll clean up my mess and be on my way.” Twilight stood still for a moment, still unable to believe just how chivalrous the cadaver was. What made it so amazing was that it was so utterly sincere.
“Well, um…” said the bookish mare, “I said I wasn’t sure. Maybe I can help you, but I’d have to go through some of my books.” She winced as Spade’s smile grew wider with a faint crack of long-dead skin.
“Oh, how wonderful!” he cried joyously, “Thank you so much. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome,” Twilight managed to say with a smile of her own, “But I still don’t know if I can or not.” Spade continued to beam happily and nodded understandingly.
“That’s quite alright,” said Spade, “I’m still thankful that you even considered the request. Now then, about the broom?” Twilight gave another forced smile as she nodded and opened the closet door. She magicked a broom into the pony’s eager hooves.
“Thank you,” he said as he began to sweep the particles of earth from the doorway, “May I sweep the rest of the library as well, please? It’s the least I can do to make up for helping me.” Twilight looked at the decayed face of the creature in surprise.
“It’s past nine,” she said, “Don’t you think you should be getting some sleep?” Twilight had always gone to bed at nine, and had no idea that ponies could stay up for even longer.
“Oh heavens no,” Spade replied Cheerfully, “Revenants don’t sleep. But if you want I can go lay down somewhere, though I tend to leak if I lay on my back. But don’t worry, if I do I’ll clean it up.”
Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, as the sun began to climb over the horizon, filling her room with a golden glow. Just like every morning, she had awoken exactly two minutes before her alarm clock went off. As she lay on her pillow, she suddenly recalled having a conversation with a dead pony who’d shown up at her door asking for directions. Twilight, being a pony of logic and reason, immediately took the whole thing for a dream. She knew, after all, that corpses couldn’t return from the dead. Such things were merely superstitions left over from a less-informed age.
Twilight rolled over to look at the ticking face of her alarm clock, when a baseball bat suddenly smashed it to bits. The unicorn jumped up in fright as tiny gears and springs flew everywhere. Her head swung over to look at Spike, who clutched the sporting instrument in his claws. Twilight’s surprise suddenly turned to anger.
“Wha-” before she could even the first word of what was going to be a long barrage of reproach, the dragon hatchling shot forward and clamped his claw over her mouth. Twilight noticed for the first time that his pupils were pinpricks of fear.
“Be quiet!” he hissed, “If you raise your voice you’ll get us killed! Understand?” His unicorn friend nodded slowly. Spike moved his claw away from her mouth, allowing her to ask what had him so spooked.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. She followed Spike’s gaze over to her bedroom door, which was blockaded with her dresser and desk, along with Spike’s basket.
“There’s a zombie downstairs…” the dragon said with a shiver. Twilight’s eyes widened as she realized that the eerie dream she’d had was in fact reality.
“What’s, uh…what’s he doing?”
“He’s…making breakfast.” Twilight was suddenly aware of the wonderful smell of pancakes that hung in the air. She turned back to Spike, trying to find the right way to tell him that she’d agreed to help a corpse find his murderer.
“Um…Spike,” she began uneasily, “About the zombie…I kind of let him in.” Spike turned and looked at her with wild eyes.
“YOU WHAT?” roared the reptile. Twilight bit her lips as he held up his bat threateningly.
“No, you don’t understand--” she began.
“Stay away from me!” he screamed, “You’ve been infected, haven’t you?! You let him in because you’re already a zombie! And now you want to turn me into one!” Twilight held out her forelegs reassuringly.
“No, no, no!” she cried as she shook her head vigorously, “He doesn’t want to hurt us! He just wants some help!” She grimaced as she saw the dragon narrow his eyes.
“Yeah, help turning me into a zombie, I bet!” Spike growled, “Don’t try to fool me you brain-eating scum, I’m on to you!” Twilight faced-hoofed and magicked the bat out of Spikes claws. The dragon fled for the window, leaping into the air in a swan dive.
“Geronimo!” he shouted just in time to splat against the glass as Twilight magicked it shut. She then lifted him up via magic as he furiously kicked and clawed in the air.
“Listen to me,” Twilight said sternly, “He’s not going to hurt us. His name is Mortimer Spade, and he wants help finding his murderer.” Spike paused in his midair fight long enough to process this information. He then crossed his arms and glared at the unicorn.
“I’m not buying it,” he muttered bitterly, “Even if that were true, which it isn’t, why on earth would you even let him into the house? Oh wait, I know, because you’re a zombie!”
Twilight let out an exasperated sigh and started pushing the furniture away from the door. Spike’s eyes went wild with panic as he started writhing angrily in a futile effort to escape. In a few minutes Twilight opened the door, and started down the stairs dragging the raging Spike along with her. As she neared the kitchen she heard the sizzle of batter against a frying pan, a sure sign that Spade was making pancakes. She turned a corner and saw something that made her pause. There, in her kitchen, an animated cadaver was setting two large plates of pancakes onto a perfectly set table.
“Good morning, Ms. Sparkle,” came the cheery voice of Spade, “I’ve made you and your assistant some breakfast. Please forgive me if I wasn’t supposed to have used the ingredients, I’ll happily buy more.” Twilight looked back at Spike, who looked positively dumbfounded upon hearing Spade speak.
“Um…thank you,” said Twilight, “Don’t worry about the ingredients.”
“Twilight…” Spike mumbled, his eyes huge and entranced as he watched Spade limp about the kitchen, “The zombie is talking…” The dragon flinched as the creature’s ragged ear turned in his direction.
“Revenant, actually,” Spade chimed as he turned off the oven and set the dishes in the sink, “But it’s a common mistake, as we’re both corpses and all.” Spike, not knowing what a revenant was, gave Twilight a questioning look. She shrugged in response, as she was not entirely sure herself. She took a seat, and sat down Spike next to her. The mare let out a sigh of relief as she released her telepathic hold on him. He wasn’t going anywhere, as placed before him was an adequate stack of chocolate chip pancakes. He cast a suspicious glance at Spade, who had just pulled up a chair across from them.
“Did you sleep well? I tried my best to keep quiet,” he said as he clasped his knobby hooves together with a faint squelch, “I’m not very well coordinated.” Twilight did her best to smile. It was very hard to do so when she was looking directly into the face of a rotting corpse. Spade, however, seemed to have no trouble whatsoever in smiling.
“We’ve never slept so well in our lives,” said Twilight, “Right, Spike?” Spike did not reply, as he was engrossed in eating what were possibly the most delicious pancakes he’d ever tasted.
“Wonderful,” said Spade, “I had a nice night as well. By the way, what’s the name of your owl?” Twilight glanced over at the covered cage where her pet slept.
“Owlowiscious,” she answered, “Did he, um, behave well?” Twilight knew that animals were keen detectors of the supernatural, and had no idea how Owlowiscious would react to such a thing as a Revenant.
“Oh, he was excellent,” Spade said, “He reminds me of the owl that lived in Sunset Cemetery.” The mentioning of the word ‘cemetery’ made Spike jump in seat. Had it not been for the wondrous pancakes, he would had run screaming from the room. Twilight, on the other hand, leaned onto the table. She had agreed to try and help him, and the sooner he told her of his plight, the sooner she could get it over with.
“Sunset Cemetery?” she asked, “Is that where you were buried?” Spade’s neck creaked as he shook his head.
“Oh no,” answered the colt, “That’s where I worked when I was alive. I was a gravedigger, you know.” Twilight’s smile faltered, even though Spade’s continued to beam as brightly as his rotted teeth would allow.
“Ah,” she said, “So, was this a part time job or…?”
“Fulltime,” Spade said happily, “I was Sunset’s caretaker.” A wistful look spread across his decomposing features. “I miss it terribly. It was so quiet and peaceful. But it wasn’t as lonely as you’d think it’d be. You’re always meeting new people in my line of work.” Both Spike and Twilight stared at their cadaverous houseguest, though he didn’t seem to notice.
“…How do you meet new people in a cemetery?” Spike croaked, his curiosity unable to be deterred by his fear.
“Why, through funerals of course,” came the cheerful reply, “They didn’t happen often back in Drowsy Hollow, but when they did there’d always be a lot of mourners going to the burial.” Again, all Twilight and her assistant could do was stare at the revenant’s blatant merriness.
“Dude,” muttered Spike, “That’s creepy.” Twilight shot him a glare, but turned back to Spade with a copious grin.
“So, Mr. Spade,” she said, “You say you need help finding your, uh, murderer?”
“Ah, yes,” the corpse said with a nod, “I’ve been having a bit of trouble remembering exactly what happened. It’s strange really, I can recall most of my life except for the day I was murdered. You’d think you’d remember something like that.”
“What was the first thing you remember after it happened?” Twilight asked, her mind open and ready to receive information. Spade’s bloodshot eyes swiveled to look at his right temple as he thought.
“I woke up underneath some bushes,” he said, “Sometime after dark, out in the woods on the edge of town. It was chilly, so I decided to go home and go to bed.”
“Didn’t you wonder why you were out in the woods at night?” Twilight asked as she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a long-distance sleepwalker,” Spade said sheepishly, “So I wasn’t entirely surprised. But when I got back to town I saw Mrs. Green sitting on her porch. She’s a very nice mare, so I stopped in the street to say hello. At first she was glad to see me, and asked where I’d been all week.”
“You mean you’d been missing?” asked Twilight.
“I guess I must have been,” Spade said with a shrug, “But I didn’t know it at the time. I got closer to ask what she meant by that, when she started screaming. I asked her what I’d done wrong, and she pointed at my back, where I found this.” Spike jolted again as Spade placed the gleaming dagger on the table. Twilight reached over and clamped a hoof on his shoulder to keep the dragon in his seat. The unicorn stared at the blade, which must have been cleaned shortly after doing the grisly deed, as it was completely spotless.
“What did you do then?” asked the unicorn.
“Well, I didn’t really know what to do with myself, being dead and everything,” answered Spade, “So I decided to return the blade to the murderer. I felt rather bad about keeping it from them, as it is a very nice knife. I’ve been searching ever since.”
“How long ago was this?”
“About three years,” said the corpse, “You know, I feel bad that I still haven’t returned the dagger, but at the same time it’s nice to get around and see so much of the world.” He looked down and saw that the two had finished their pancakes. “Oh, did you want any more?” Spike opened his mouth to accept the offer, but before he could get any words out Twilight answered for him.
“No thank you,” she said politely.
“Okay then,” Spade said as he unsteadily rose from his seat, “I’ll start doing the dishes.”
“Oh, you don’t really have to,” Twilight said as she got up herself, “You are a guest, after all.” Somehow it was still hard to accept the fact that she was saying this to a badly decayed cadaver.
“Oh no, I insist,” said Spade as he picked up their dishes, “It’s really no bother. It feels nice to be useful after traveling for so long.” As he stumbled over the sink, Spade’s left leg suddenly gave out with a loud crack that made Twilight’s stomach turn. The unicorn rushed forward as the ghoulish Samaritan toppled onto the floor.
“Don’t worry,” called out the fallen revenant, “I managed to save the dishes.” Twilight was more concerned with the fact that his leg was now only hanging by a piece of palled skin. The unicorn squeamishly averted her eyes from the brownish-red muscle and yellow bone that was now exposed. Spike stood nearby, equally disgusted yet too horrified to look away.
“M-Mr. Spade,” sputtered Twilight, “Your leg…”
“Hm?” The cadaver looked down to see that his limb was almost completely severed. “Oh. Well that’s a shame, isn’t it?”
Twilight carefully levitated Spade towards the middle of the living room, where Spike was setting out an old stool for him to sit upon.
“Thank you so much,” said the cadaver, “I really appreciate this.”
“No problem,” Twilight mumbled as she tried to avoid spilling anything out of the gaping wound near his hind quarters, “I’m really sorry about your leg.” The floating corpse smiled pleasantly at her.
“Oh, it couldn’t be helped,” said Spade, “I had a run-in with a dog last night on my way into town. The old girl nearly tore it off before I managed to get away.” Twilight caught a glimpse of several cone-shaped holes near his hoof as she set him down on the stool. The unicorn was very thankful that she had managed to carry him all the way from the kitchen without letting so much as a drop of blood hit the floor. She turned to watch Spade as he gently pushed his leg back into place, carefully realigning the edges of the torn skin. He looked up at her with a grin.
“May I please borrow a needle and thread?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” replied Twilight as she magiked open a cabinet and pulled out a sewing kit. She took out a long spool of red thread, and a sturdy needle that would suit the revenant’s needs.
“Thank you,” said Spade as she handed him the supplies.
“You’re welcome,” said the purple mare as she sat down in her favorite chair. Spike sat nearby, still unsure of what to make of the new houseguest as he threaded the needle, humming as though it would help him concentrate. Twilight winced as he made the first puncture into his rotting hide, and twitched as he pulled it through.
“I feel a bit like the Helhest,” said Spade as he made another loop. Twilight’ ears perked up as she heard the word. It sounded familiar, as if she’d heard it a long time ago, but could not for the life of her recall what it meant. Fortunately she didn’t need to ask, as Spike did it for her.
“The what?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“The Helhest,” said Spade, “Or Death, as he’s most commonly called.” Twilight realized for the first time that not only was Spade an example of Necromantic magic rarely seen by pony-kind, but, in his postmortem status, he might have knowledge of what lay beyond the realm of the living.
“Mr. Spade,” she asked quietly, “Have you seen Death?” Spade looked up, though his forelegs continued stitching his wound.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I guess you could say we met once. This was some time ago, a little after I started my travels. Some time in mid October, about two months after I died.”
“Why didn’t you meet him right away?” Spike asked skeptically, “Isn’t that why he’s called Death?”
“He’s more of a--oh, what’s the word--a Psychopomp.”
“ A figure that leads the spirits of the deceased to the afterlife,” Twilight explained to the still uncertain Spike.
“Exactly,” continued Spade as he worked the stitched around a particularly troublesome angle, “I was halfway between Hoofington and Coltucky when I saw him standing in the road.”
“What’s he look like?” Twilight asked eagerly, partially for scientific reasons, and partially because she wanted to avoid Death if she ever came across him.
“Well, he stands on three legs,” answered Spade, “So he tends to make a little noise when he travels. He also looks a bit like myself, in the fact that we’re both cadaverous, except he’s far taller than I am.” Twilight leaned forward, taking in this new information.
“So what happened?” Spike asked, eager to know the rest of the story, “You said you met him. Did he say anything to you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact he did,” said Spade, “He asked me if I had any oats.” Twilight raised a questioning eyebrow.
“What would Death want with oats?” asked bookish mare, partially to herself.
“He likes oats, apparently,” Spade said with a shrug, “I told him that I didn’t have any on me, but that I’d seen a farmer selling some back in Hoofington. He thanked me for my time and stumbled off.” Spike sat back, looking a little disappointed. Twilight, however, wished to know if Spade had any more encounters with supernatural beings outside of equine perception.
“Have you ever met a ghost?” asked the curious unicorn. Spike gave her an incredulous look.
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” he said, a smug smile spreading across his face. Twilight shrank into her chair as her face turned red.
“Well,” she replied sheepishly, “I didn’t believe in revenants either until last night.”
“Ah, ghosts,” Spade said fondly, “I can assure they’re as real as you are. Have you ever heard of the Headless Horse?” Both Twilight and Spike looked upon him with awe.
“The Headless Horse is real?” sputtered Twilight, who up until this point had always assumed the grotesque apparition was merely a legend.
“Very real. I actually met him last Nightmare Night, when I was traveling through Tarry Town.” The cadaver paused for a moment, as if recalling something. “He’s a rather silent fellow. I even tried speaking some Germane, but I couldn’t get a response out of him.” Spike seemed very excited by the topic of conversation, as he found the Headless Horse to be one of the only awesome things about pony folklore.
“Does he really chop off heads?” the dragon asked zealously. Twilight shot him a disapproving glare, but secretly she wanted to know just as badly as her assistant did.
“Well, he tries to, but there’s that matter with the bridge and all.”
Twilight was about to ask another question when she heard a loud knock on the door. The unicorn’s eyes suddenly grew wide with realization. She had been so caught up with the current events that she’d completely forgotten she’d invited her friends over for a late breakfast. Twilight shot a panicked look over at Spade, who was still in the middle of reattaching his leg. She was quite aware that her friends might not be too keen with the idea of a corpse, albeit a friendly one, in her living room. Worse, they might suspect she was using her magic for questionable purposes.
“Oh,” said Spade as he heard the knock, “Do you want me to get that?”
“No,” replied the purple mare as she rose up from her chair, “Um, Mr. Spade, would you mind stepping…” Her voice faltered as she looked at his mangled limb. Twilight looked back at the door frantically. Spike was now just picking up on her desperation, and stepped up beside her. He wanted to help, but he was just as devoid of ideas as Twilight was. A thought suddenly struck the unicorn as she spotted the rug beneath her hooves.
“Mr. Spade,” she said with a smile, “I’m afraid that I forgot to mention that I’m having company over--”
“Say no more,” said the cheerful cadaver as he managed to pull himself from the stool, “I understand completely. I’m terribly sorry if I’ve mussed up your plans. Where is it that you’d like me to hide?”
“The basement,” said Twilight, “I’ll take you there.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright,” said Spade as he stood on his wobbly legs, “You need to get ready, and I don’t want to be a bother.” Twilight saw that he was managing well enough as he was nearly finished sewing his leg back on, and decided to indulge his request.
“Alright,” she said hesitantly, “The basement door is down the hall, the last door on the right.”
“Right then,” said Spade as he started down the hall, “See you later.” Twilight turned to Spike, her mind now assessing an even bigger problem.
“What are we going to do for breakfast?” she muttered as she bit her frowning lip. The dragon, not accustomed to being asked questions by her, did not know what to do at first. But his green eyes suddenly lit up as an idea sparked in his brain.
“Donuts,” he replied, trying to speak in the dignified way that Twilight usually spoke when she answered his questions, “Everypony loves donuts. I’ll go grab some from Sugar-Cube Corner.” Twilight was at first reluctant to agree with him. She had promised her friends an old fashioned breakfast made from scratch. But seeing as she had no time, she didn’t really have much of a choice.
“Fine,” she sighed, “Just tell them to put it on my tab.” Spike nodded, and quickly scooted to the back door. In the mean time Twilight cantered over to the front door. She was greeted by five pairs of shining eyes upon opening it.
“Good morning, Twilight,” came the melodious voice of Rarity, “How are you doing on this fine day?” Twilight somehow managed to scrape together a calm, friendly smile, despite the enormous stress that was bearing down on her nerves.
“I’m doing great,” she replied, “Why don’t you all come in and take a seat in the living room?” She stepped aside and allowed her friends to enter the library, and closed the door a little too loudly once they were in. Fluttershy yelped and leapt in the air.
“It’s nice tah hear yer havin’ a great mornin’,” drawled Applejack, “Winona’s sicker than, well…a dog. I think she got a taste o’ somethin’ she wasn’t sposed to last night.” Twilight paused as she heard this, but shrugged it off.
“Ooh, Twilight,” called Rarity, who had stopped in the middle of the living room sniffing the air, “Does my nose deceive me, or are you making pancakes?” Twilight was instantly in front of the kitchen doorway, blocking the white unicorn’s path with a forced smile.
“Well, no, I mean, actually yes,” she spouted, “Spike and I had pancakes for dinner last night.” This earned her an odd look from her comrades.
“Oookay,” said Rainbow Dash, “Seems legit.”
“Hey Twilight!” Pinkie Pie shouted as she looked at the stool in the middle of the room, “Why’s there a stool there? There wasn’t a stool there yesterday. Or the day before. Are you remodeling? Can I help?”
“No, Pinkie,” said the unicorn as she levitated it out of the room, “I just put it there temporarily.”
“Why?” the pink mare replied curiously.
“Just because,” Twilight answered. The unicorn let out a sigh of relief as Pinkie Pie took this as an acceptable answer. She then turned to address everypony else, as they were sure to start wondering where breakfast was.
“Twilight, darling,” said Rarity as she sat down on a couch, “I know this is rather short-notice, but I was wondering if you could come over and help me with a little project I’m working on. I need somepony to model for me, and I think you’re just the mare I’m looking for.” Twilight almost frowned as she heard this. Modeling for Rarity was like being a puppet in stop-motion movie. Every other second the white unicorn would be making minor adjustments to the pose she wanted, thus making the whole ordeal last for hours.
“I’m, uh, afraid I can’t today,” she replied, “I’m seeing somepony today.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Twilight wished she’d worded them differently. The unicorn cringed as she saw the amused smile that came across Rarity’s face.
“Who might this ‘somepony’ be?” Rarity asked as she leaned forward. Twilight looked up at the ceiling, and then down at her hooves.
“Well, he’s--”
“He?” chimed Rarity, “Ooh, Twilight, is he anypony I know?” Twilight squirmed uncomfortably as she noticed everyone else was paying close attention to the conversation. Applejack and Dash were exchanging astute glances, while Fluttershy blushed a little. Pinkie Pie, on the other hand, was only paying attention because of a fly that had landed on the wall behind Twilight‘s head.
“No,” Twilight blurted out, “Rarity, it’s not like that-”
“Of course it’s not, darling,” the white unicorn said with a wink as she put her foreleg around Twilight’s shoulder, “So, where did you meet this ‘somepony’?” Twilight was so nervous that she blurted out the truth, which somehow sounded worse in the current context.
“He showed up at my door last night asking for directions,” she mumbled. Fluttershy’s face turned a bright red as she tried ignore the uneasiness of the statement. Applejack and Rainbow Dash both suppressed their urge to snicker. Pinkie, who was only vaguely aware of what was going on, smiled blankly. Rarity, being an absolute sucker for cheap romance novels, let out an excited squeal.
“Oh my,” she giggled, “How unusual. So, where was he going?” Twilight was on the verge of telling them that she had a corpse in her basement to avoid further awkward inquisition. Fortunately, at that moment, Spike strolled into the living room with a large paper bag in his claw.
“I’ve got breakfast!” he called as he held the bag in front of him. Twilight sat back and let out a sigh of relief. Everypony raised their collective eyebrow at Spike.
“Hey, what gives?” asked Dash, “I thought you said you were gonna make us breakfast!”
“I’m…I’m sorry everypony,” Twilight breathed humbly, “It’s just that…Well, I overslept.” Everyone in the room gasped, looking at Twilight as though she’d actually told them that there was a corpse hiding in her basement.
“You?!” cried Rarity, “Oversleep? That doesn’t seem possible!”
“Are you sick? Do you need help?” Fluttershy asked as she suddenly appeared by the unicorn’s side. Twilight suddenly realized that she was looking into a window of opportunity. If she played sick, her friends might leave her alone long enough to help Spade. Though she knew that she would feel guilty about lying--she already did, as a matter of fact--it was the only way she was going to get it done. The unicorn let out a feeble cough, and slumped over in her seat.
“Now that you mention it,” she said weakly, “I do feel kind of under the weather.”
“Well of course you do,” said Pinkie Pie, “We’re all under the weather, silly. It’s up in the sky!”
“I’d better take your temperature,” mumbled Fluttershy, “Just to make sure you didn’t come down with anything serious. Do you have a thermometer?” Twilight was about to shake her head no when Rainbow Dash spoke up.
“Sure she does,” said the cyan Pegasus, “She’s got a whole bunch of first aid stuff in her closet.” Dash knew this from the time she’d accidentally crashed into Twilight’s house during a bad storm, and Twilight had to patch her up until she could go to the hospital. Twilight watched as the Pegasus flew down the hallway, desperately trying to think of a way to fake her temperature. She heard the closet door swing open, which was followed by a loud, girlish scream, and a friendly voice that made Twilight’s pupils turn into pinpricks.
“Oh, hello.”
Almost instantly a gray, mangy figure came rocketing out of the hallway and crashed into the wall with a sickening crack. Everypony screamed as it fell to the floor in a heap. Dash appeared out of the hall, her eyes wild and terrified. She pointed a trembling hoof at the crumpled form of the creature.
“ZOMBIE!” screeched the Pegasus. She, along with Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rarity, crowded around Twilight in a huddled mass as the corpse slowly rose to his unsteady hooves. Rarity clamped her forelegs around Twilight’s neck with such force that it was beginning to cut off the mare’s circulation. Spade, by now, was able to face them, and gave an apologetic look at Twilight. He opened his mouth to say something, but was suddenly bucked into the wall by Applejack.
“Go for the head!” cried the apple farmer, “They’re powerless without their heads!” There was an aqua streak in the air as Rainbow Dash plowed into Spade, who was once again trying to climb to his hooves. This time he was sent into a bookshelf, and a small avalanche of tomes tumbled off of the top shelf to land on his head. Twilight wanted to scream at her friends to stop, but Rarity’s death grip around her neck prevented her from speaking. She watched with horrified eyes as Pinkie somehow produced a metal folding chair out of nowhere and slammed it with such force over the revenant’s body that it bent in half. Twilight turned to Spike, her eyes pleading. She found the dragon looking reluctantly at the skirmish, nervous he might injured in the crossfire.
Twilight somehow found the strength to pry Rarity’s forelegs from her neck, and inhaled a huge gasp of air.
“STOP IT!” she screamed as Applejack, Dash, and Pinkie were suddenly enveloped in sparkling purple force fields. They turned back to look at the unicorn, shocked at the betrayal.
“Twilight, what are you doing?” cried Dash, “That thing’s gonna kill us--”
“He’s not going to kill us!” snapped Twilight, “His name is Mortimer Spade, and he is one of the nicest ponies I’ve ever met!”
“Do you really think so?” asked the revenant as he slowly crawled out from beneath the pile of books. Twilight’s friends turned to look at the cadaver with their eyes and mouths agape.
“It talked!” cried Pinkie, “They’ve evolved! We need to stop it before it learns how to use a shotgun!” Twilight face-hoofed and walked over to help Spade to his hooves.
“Thank you, Ms. Sparkle,” he said cheerfully. Twilight steadied him, making sure his bad leg remained in place.
“Everypony,” she said for all to hear, “This is Mortimer Spade. He is a revenant, not a zombie.”
“He looks like a zombie to me,” Dash muttered aggressively.
“Well, you see, revenants and zombies do have a strong resemblance,” said Spade, “But I assure you, I am not a zombie.”
“Twilight,” Rarity asked, just now coming out shock, “Why was there a corpse in your closet?” Twilight felt herself shrink as her friends cast suspicious eyes at her.
“That was my fault,” Spade answered, “She asked me to go to the basement, but I took the wrong door and locked myself in. I’m always doing things like that, I’m afraid.” Though he was well intentioned, Spade’s answer only served to fuel the suspicion.
“Why is he even in your house at all?” Fluttershy whimpered, “Twilight…have you been practicing the Dark Arts?”
“No!” cried the unicorn, “He came to me for help! Fluttershy, I would never mess around with stuff like that!”
“It’s true!” said Spike, who had now decided that it was safe for him to step in an defend Twilight, “Twilight said he showed up here asking for directions last night!” Spike, understanding the delicateness of the situation, neglected to mention that the corpse wished to find his murderer.
“But what does a corpse want with directions?” Rarity said with a shiver, “He’s supposed to be resting in peace, not taking a vacation across Equestria!”
“He can’t help the fact that he’s still alive,” sighed Twilight, “He just is. Think about that for a moment. He’s just like any other pony, except, well…”
“In postmortem form,” added Spade. Twilight gave everypony in the room a smile, hoping with all her heart that they would understand.
“Twilight,” Rarity muttered, her face contorted with disgust, “He’s leaking all over your floor.”