Author's Note

Despite this having prequel in the title, I strongly urge you to read the other chapter first.

There be spoilers ahead.

I wanted a chapter that would tangentially relate to Fluttershy and very important to her thoughts in the first chapter, but not star her in any way. I retold the story of the Endless Night as a battle between Nightmare Moon and Celestia with Celestia as the victor, but it came with a price of spreading her curse to another. It still didn't feel right. Something was missing, and it was not the added scene where Celestia takes a young Luna away from the castle, because otherwise the chapter would have finished with Celestia stabbing the shit out of her sister.

I'm not sure what's wrong. Needs more worldbuilding? Probably. As it is, I dropped this chapter from the official draft, and the story is complete as it is with only the first chapter.

Props to my main main Softy for giving this chapter a onceover.

Cut Prequel: Nightmare Queen vs. Celeste Van Helsing

Most ponies in these darkened lands feared the night and shadows. ‘Twas not for the monsters and devils that called them home; the blight was fraught with beasts, but the darkness itself lived and breathed of its own accord. The great towers and ramparts, once formidable and imposing, were free of oppression for once after countless years. It was inherent instinct in most. Fear the darkness, for death would come on swift wings.

Naught a drop of peasant or royal blood visited the castle grounds. Brick and mortar had crumbled despite the castle’s stout masonry. The forest had retaken the old cobblestone paths of the once magnificent garden, and brambles covered the walls and fallen portcullis. Old armors from faraway lands decorated the once hallowed halls, yet after so many seasons they were reduced to wrecks of their former selves.

There was only one room in the castle that still held life. It wasn’t the royal suite with its overturned coffin, smashed mirrors, and scattered soil. It wasn’t even the treasury or armory that still held precious trinkets after so long. Two souls inhabited what remained of the throne room.

She might have been a beauty in another life. She bore a perfect and unblemished face along with the elegance of an empress, yet she was clothed in a professor’s old coat and hat to fight the chill of late autumn. She walked with purpose and a swan-like grace, which caused the silver cross around her neck to jingle with every step. Magenta eyes meet a cool cyan.

Upon the shattered throne lay a prostrate monster spread eagle in defeat. The professor knew it would be a grievous mistake to judge her alone on her stunning beauty and flowing locks; she was undoubtedly a monster most foul cloaked in the skin of a pony, its powers limitless and bloodlust unquenchable. The other was weak and frail compared to such a creature, but held an utterly indomitable will. In a duel of wits versus strength, the weak pony stood triumphant.

“Vampire Queen.”

The crippled vampire’s body twitched as the professor spoke. She was as black as midnight, the shadows themselves bending to her will and giving her form. A spear sharpened from a hawthorn tree pierced her side, but no blood spilled from the wound. Her taloned hand grasped the spear and pulled with ravenous fury and mortal terror. Despite the demon queen’s beastial strength, her hand burned at the slightest touch and she released her grasp.

“One thousand years you slumbered, devil. You, who had plunged the world into darkness in order to create a haven for your unholy bloodlust. Villages, drained dry of blood. Ten thousand souls impaled and prostrated by thine own hands alone! Daemon, devil, black-hearted fiend born in the darkest pits, speak! What devil’s contract seduced you you to become hell incarnate? What wickedness consumed thy heart to see fit to consume innocent lifeblood? What say you!?”

The vampire queen turned her head painfully towards the night’s true victor.

“It would do you well to return to your own lands.” Words dripped off the queen’s lips like dew on silk

“My place is right here, between you and the noble souls of the living.”

“Bravery!” the queen exclaimed. “I have seen a thousand before you. You were not the first, you shan’t be the last. I challenge you, hunter. Come here...”

Her words whispered truths and promises.

“Come here....”

Those lovely eyes. The soft suggestions of every breath, the pleasing curves that were perfect in every way. She leaned closer.

The professor had made a dreadful mistake, for she had looked into a vampire’s eyes and could be drawn into its power. Fear bit at her heart and it took all her willpower to crush it down. Her hands flashed to her coat with the speed of a prized hound. A hawthorn branch, sharpened into a stake, lay tightly clenched in her delicate fingers. It soared through the air and plunged into the vampire’s black heart. She screamed with the shrill wail of a thousand damned souls. Blood from her prey, none of her own, gushed from the wound.

As quickly as they started, her tumultuous spasms ceased. The Blood Countess, Vampire Queen, Lady of the Damned, had breathed her last undead breath on Equestrian soil. Her flesh crumbled and peeled like old paint, revealing the dried and desiccated organs within. Those, too, soon withered and left only a spear, bones, and a stake plunged so deep it entered the soil.

Crickets and the chitter-chatter of the night, birds and beasts, silenced themselves. Wolf packs scampered to deeper and darker dens now that their night mistress was slain. The professor removed her hat with one hand, pale pink locks spilling over her shoulders in droves. The other clutched the cross tied around her throat.

“Banish all the forces of evil from my mind, Oh Lord, so I may be pure with good deeds. Banish all the forces of evil from those I touch, Oh Lord, so that I may guide those with your holy grace. Banish all the forces of evil from this house, Oh Lord, and shield this place from all the evils and fires of hell. Show her mercy, as you are forgiving of those who have turned their back on your blessed sacrament. On angel’s wings, carry this lost soul into your forgiving embrace so that she may find peace. Amen.”

The professor was silent for naught but a minute before she stood and collected what few effects were lost in the struggle. A duel with a demon such as she was taxing more on a mental level than a physical one, but that did not ease the burden and the weariness that tugged at her mind. Regardless, she had vanquished a great evil and left the old and decrepit throne room with her head held high.

Great oak and iron doors were much too great to close. Such things were meant to be moved by a small contingent of armed guards. She would very much like to seal the room, to protect any venturing ponies or beasts against the evil. Slain as she may be, the vampire was a creature of death and the professor did not wish to tempt fate with trickery from beyond the grave. The broken remains of a wooden chair from days long past were enough for two crude crosses. She nailed them to each door as a blessing flowed from her lips.

“Bless this dwelling and all who reside within. Cradle those who seek refuge here with your divine grace and limitless mercy. Your enemies are scattered, and those who spurn your name have fled your vassal. As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God. May thy beneficence descend upon these walls evermore.”

It was time to leave this place. When she walked within the walls earlier that same night, she felt such an oppressive aura her lungs might have failed from fright. Now the air was cool and cleansed of the evil within. Her steps had taken her from the old throne room to the rectory.

“You can come out now, little one.”

Her voice was once full of authority and wisdom fit for any battlefield general. Now it was filled with a gentle calm, soothing and melodic as a mother placating a frightened infant. A child, furry ears erect and alert, peered around an overturned altar. She nearly blended into the very moonlight with her deep cobalt fur, and as her gaze met the young child’s, the professor smiled, warm and comforting.

The child peeked out from her hiding place and looked about for more devils in darkness. Seeing none, she ran as fast as her little legs would carry and embraced her protector.

“Is the monster gone?”

“Yes it is, childe. Come now; let us leave this place.”

Little hands clutched the professor’s legs all the tighter. She reached outward and the child took her up on the embrace. She had little in terms of linens for the girl, but going her best to wrap her tattered coat around them both until they returned to town would suffice.

Yet as the wizened professor’s flight carried a drop of innocence in its wake, it was most unwise to underestimate the power of evil. The devils in hell had access to all the wicked souls they required, but there were none sweeter than an innocent that falls from grace.

She watched the professor as she left, child in tow. The queen’s blood flowed through her veins. In the reflection of a pond she saw two red eyes glaring back. A face as pale as death. The pursued red lips draining of color, begging to be sated.

Long live Journeyman! Long live his Patreon!