Author's Note

So this is where I really earn those dark tags.

4. Rite of the Bell

The tolling bell is deafening and mournful, like the call of a funeral procession. I’m almost annoyed that it takes a second to realise that’s exactly the point. The Killer is ringing the bell and the funeral is for us.

Subtle.

My feet hit solid earth as the darkness bleeds away to be replaced by the endless fog. The forest and campfire are gone, and all around is the stink of rust and engine oil.

This newest place is some kind of scrapyard; piles of old beaters, trucks, sedans, even buses, are everywhere. The filth in the air is as much a flavor as a smell, but where the Fields where I landed first tasted like rotten vegetable matter, this place tastes like the slow decay of civilization.

The moment my feet are stable I duck to a low crouch and press my back against one of the more sturdy walls of cars to take stock of my surroundings.

I’ve still got the medical kit bag that came out of my Bloodweb. It's not well stocked but it's definitely better than nothing. Taking care not to shift the weight of the stack, I start moving along the edge. Maybe it's sturdy enough to hold my weight, maybe not, but I doubt a tower of vehicles suddenly toppling over would go unnoticed by whatever is hunting us.

As I swivel my head, scanning the fog-shrouded yard, I find myself wishing I had asked Tempest—or really any of the girls—a little more about the different Killers. Things like which one hunts where, and how. What their abilities are. Strengths and weaknesses... assuming they have any.

But I was so tired at the time.

No excuses now, Shimmer. I just have to be extra careful and stick to what little I do know. If I hear a heartbeat, hide. If I hear a chainsaw, hide. Run up the generators, and avoid the hooks and the basement.

This one's going to be rough.

I slide around the corner and scan the area. I don't like this junkyard.

Where there aren’t stacks of cars there are the remains of wrecked ones. There's cubes of compacted junk, piles of tires, even a massive set of treads that looks like it belonged on a CAT at one point, and off in the distance is the towering silhouette of a crane, still sporting its dull, construction-yellow paint job.

Somewhere in the distance the wind picks up with a dull susurration that stirs the crows that are squatting in the trees and around the cars, and a bell tolls from somewhere nearby.

“What the hell is with that noise?” I mutter as I scoot slowly across the oily dirt of the wrecking yard. “You’d think it wouldn’t want to give its position away either, right?”

Unless it doesn't care which isn’t a happy thought.

I keep my head on a swivel as I move towards one of the towering light-topped spires that signify a generator, sidling around a wall of broken metal and rotting wooden pallets. The generator is cold and silent, meaning that none of my… that none of the others have worked on it yet.

I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

Either way, I don’t have time to waste.

I pull aside one of the side plates and dive elbow deep into the cold machine to start feeling around for out of place parts. It’s not hard, this thing is a mess and there's plenty to fix. I’m making decent progress even if I do have to slow down every so often to make sure I don’t trip a loose connection or displace a grounding wire but overall it’s not difficult.

I’m about what I reckon to be a third of the way done when the wind picks up again and then dies.

“What the hell is with the wind in this…”

The words die in my throat as a bell tolls thunderously from directly behind me.

I shriek and pull my arms free of the generator, prompting a deafening pop of electrical discharge from the generator as I roll to the side just in time to avoid something heavy and stinking of blood from braining me as it swings down through the space my head had been occupying a second earlier.

Something impacts the generator hard with a dull clang, and I turn, swiveling on my heels in a low crouch, ready to spring away as I face…

Nothing?

No, not ‘nothing’...

There’s a faint distortion in the air at first and then it resolves into something horrifying with a grim languor.

The thing is standing on thin, almost birdlike legs. Its body is wrapped in a filthy black shroud and stained bandages. The Killer's face is a crudely daubed mask of petrified wood with two deep-set and baleful eyes like pinpricks of cold white light that are fixed squarely on me. The thing is so terrifying that I almost miss what’s in its hand.

“Is that a fucking spine?!” I shriek as I scrabble to my feet.

Whatever, not my circus not my monkeys, Sunset Shimmer out.

I take off running as the Killer hefts its weapon. It looks for all the world like a spinal cord layered onto what looks like a short-hafted, triple-bladed scythe topped with a skull. The organic bits are definitely the real deal too.

Sprinting for a collection of high-walled scrap, I vault over a low section as the Killer picks up the pursuit. The heartbeat thuds thunderously away in my ears, telling me in no uncertain terms that it is on my ass.

I rip past a leaning wooden pallet and kick it loose, earning a satisfying impact and a roar of frustration as it lands on the Killer’s head.

That buys me a moment as it breaks through the makeshift barricade, and I light off into another junk-pile maze, vaulting a shorter pile of junk to get onto the other side of the wall but catching my foot on some of the loose scraps and causing a racket.

“Shit,” I hiss as I take off again. "It definitely heard that."

The heartbeat isn’t as loud but it’s still there, vacillating between tolerable and deafening. It knows where I am and it knows I’m running from it. It’s trying to keep pace. My only solace is knowing that, so long as it’s chasing me, Tempest and the others are free to do their work.

A sudden clap of machine noise rings out and a spill of light from the distance tells me I’m right. One generator is already up and running. Good girls.

That low wind picks up again, rushing past my ears followed by the dolorous tolling of a bell. Time to test a theory. I reach another low rise of junk and vault over it, more slowly and carefully this time and drop to a crouch, moving as quietly as possible, slinking around the walls and through the twisting partitions of ruined chassis’, radiators, and engine blocks until I reach a tall storage cabinet.

Taking a risk, I peek inside.

It's mostly empty except for some random pieces of junk and—strangely—several old hatchets. I glance around, knowing it’s probably futile but doing it out of habit anyway, before slipping into the closet and pulling the door closed tight. It’s a risk, sure. A huge one. If that thing catches me in here then I’ve got nowhere to run, but if I don’t shake it now then I’ll get caught for sure.

The heartbeat is gone for the moment, but since there wasn’t one while that monster was properly crawling up my dock I can only assume that the heartbeat means nothing to this thing. Whatever this Killer is I figure that, so long as it’s invisible, the heartbeat won't tell me when it’s close by.

Cheater.

So I wait. I can't be sure it's not still in the area yet. If it hasn’t checked here by now it probably lost my track, but if it's still looking then I can… wait…

I narrow my eyes at the ground a few meters away from me. There! The grass wavers one patch at a time and there’s a faint distortion as it does so, and I smirk from my hidden vantage point.

“Not bad,” I whisper as I watch the haze shift around in a searching pattern. “Total aural and visual concealment… near perfect bending of light. If it were standing still it would be totally undetectable.”

It’s definitely not incorporeal, no matter what it looks like, but it had to come out of its concealment to strike me back when I was at the generator, suggesting it couldn’t attack while it was shrouded. There’s no other explanation for it. That thing is a hunter. It wouldn't doff its invisibility unless it had no choice.

So… it's not incorporeal but also not visible, but it can’t strike me, at least not with enough force to matter.

“It’s out of phase.” I grin, feeling certain I’d hit the nail on the head.

It phases partially out of this dimension and into another. The sound of wind is it peeling back into this reality or vice versa. It’s also why photons bend around it. It’s probably much lighter and faster in that state too. It’s literally not quite real until the moment before it kills you.

Except for the bell. The Bell must be how it goes in and out of phase.

Somehow it allows the Killer to translate between realities. If I can hear the tolling when it’s visible and invisible equally then the bell must have a presence in both phases of reality, making it a tool of Artifact-grade power at least.

That kind of thing should be sealed in the Alabaster Vault at Canterlot, not be carried in the hands of a murderous specter.

Another clap of machine noise splits the air and lights go on not far from my position. Immediately, the distortion and little shifting trail of grass moves away at speed.

Fair enough, I suppose. It can’t just hang around forever while the others are running around getting shit done. I slip out of the cabinet the moment it's clear and start to move around the edge of the junkpiles towards a distant tower of unlit lamps.

I don’t get far before I hear a scream.

“Starlight.” Her voice sounds different from when she was taking the piss out of Billy’s attention so it must’ve found her for real.

I didn’t hear the bell though which means she spotted its phased-out movement. She is good.

Still, something’s wrong. Why didn’t it come back into phase? I stand up uneasily and scan the area. I see movement not far from me, heading towards my position. Getting a sick feeling in my stomach, I swivel around and look towards the junk maze. “Shit, a hook. It’s herding her.”

I turn a corner and press myself against the wall, close my eyes, and sharpen my ears. Seeing won’t do shit for me against this thing, but it still makes a little noise when it disturbs the grass. The wind is my major hint though. It reenters coherent enough to land a strike before I can fully see it. Star screams again. She doesn’t need to at this point but she’s probably egging it on now. She knows she can’t shake it.

So now what?

I clench my teeth, knowing what’s about to happen. The bell tolls, the wind blows, and there’s a sharp, wicked crunch as the Killer buries its scythe in Star, she screams again, this time it’s real and filled with pain.

She’s not down though. It was a glancing blow, but her footsteps have changed. Starlight is staggering away while the Killer is taking its time and enjoying the hunt. A moment later I hear another heavy crunch and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

They’re close, and if it’s anything like last time…

I peek around the corner just in time to see it bending over to grab and heft Starlight onto its shoulder. I pull back around the corner and cover my mouth, trying to keep my breathing under control as it approaches the hook.

I could go. Easily. I could hide out, hunker down, and wait for it to lope off towards another side of the Trial in search of others, then make a run for the nearest generator. Starlight Glimmer doesn’t trust me any further than she can throw me, and after what happened at the campfire I have no doubt that she would leave me to rot on the hook.

She would abandon me to die with almost hundred percent certainty.

At least she’s straight with me though, not like the Rainbooms. She never pretended to be anything but what she was and the moment she suspected me she got in my face. I can respect that.

Shunk.

I flinch at the meaty sound of Starlight being hung from the butchers hook which is quickly eclipsed by her teary scream of pain.

The bell tolls and the wind blows and I hear the Killer drift away in the opposite direction. If I leave her, I'm safe. Rescuing is loud and obvious, and this bastard is really goddamn fast. If I leave her here I can almost certainly finish a generator.

All I have to do is abandon her.

“Fuck!” I cuss under my breath as I turn, break cover, and sprint for the hook.

Starlight is hanging despondently from the cruel barb, sniffling and shaking at the pain. The moment she sees me her eyes go wide, but before she can say anything I get under her feet and lift hard, levering her off of the impaling spike. Starlight claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the shriek of pain but nothing helps the creaking groan of the rusty hook.

She hits the ground hard but I can’t afford to give her any breathing room. It’s even odds as to whether or not that thing will come back after us or go harass whichever one of our little group has been running up generators and I don’t want to be here to find out.

So I grab Starlight’s hand and pull her down one of the aisles, and around the corner. I can’t trust the heartbeat because of the thing’s invisibility but at least we’ll have a second or two of warning if I keep listening for the wind.

We move at a dead sprint, and manage to get well away from the hook and make it to the wall of a dilapidated shack. Unfortunately, there's another damn hook posted against one of its corners. I’m really starting to hate how those things seem to be friggin' everywhere.

Both of us slump against the wall, breathing hard and, in Starlight's case, coughing up blood even as we try to remain wary and listen for the tell-tale tolling of the Killer’s bell.

“C’mere,” I say, pulling out my med kit, “let me see the damage.”

Starlight backs away from me like I just threatened her with a knife.

“Not a chance! You think after what happened at the campsite, that I’d trust you?” She hisses. “Why would you even help me at all?”

I open my mouth to answer but what can I say?

'It’s what we’re supposed to do?'

That sounds hollow. We’re really just supposed to survive, and I certainly don’t owe her anything. Why did I risk my life, or whatever it is I have here, to save hers? Even she doesn’t think I should have. For Princess Twilight? For the girls back home? Why did I help her? By all rights, I should have abandoned her. After all, that’s what everyone did… to me.

I close my eyes and let out a breath, realising I was overthinking things. In the end, I still want to be a better person right? I want to be better than I used to be, whatever that means.

“I don’t know, Star,” I say, finally. “Not… not that I don’t know why I would help you. I just… how do you explain to someone that you’re supposed to want to help other people? How can I explain that I just want to help you?”

“Because nobody just wants to help me!” Starlight practically chokes on her words to stop herself from screaming and giving away our position. “And you’re just like everyone else,” she growls, “except you're worse, because you’re trying to trick us. You’re working for that thing. You’re just a Killer in a cute skin. I will never, ever—”

Our only warning that we're not alone is the sound of two quick strides from behind us before Aria is at my side and swinging a hard slap across Starlight’s face. Starlight staggers, then shakes her head as she tries to work out what hit her.

“So, here you girls are,” Aria says quietly before turning to me, “I was trying to find you, Shimmer. No one deserves to run around the Wrecking Yard with the Wraith and not have the lowdown.”

I nod, a little stunned at Aria’s reaction. “I, uh, I think I pretty much worked out what he does. Rings a bell, goes invisible, hunts you. Doesn’t make that heartbeat sound while it’s phased out. That about it?”

The ex-Siren smirks at me.

“Yeah, pretty much. I always knew you were sharp, Shimmer,” Aria says before turning to Starlight and bringing a finger straight up to her face. “And you… listen and listen close, I know Sunset, so if you want to draw a line in the sand then you’ll find me next to her, capisce? I like you Star, I do, but I would trust Sunset with my life.”

Starlight opens and closes her mouth for a moment before finding her voice. “But… why? Even after all the Trials and fighting together, why?”

Aria glances back at me and gives me a small but genuine smile before turning back to Starlight. “Because I saw Sunset stand with her friends as they fell to my sisters and I. She stepped into a losing battle, put herself between three power-bloated Sirens and her friends, and then sang us down by herself. Anyone who can call up that kind of fire is someone I’d follow anywhere.”

“Girls, I get it, and Starlight doesn’t have to trust me right away,” I say, holding up my hands as I get between Aria and Starlight. “But I’m pretty sure there’s a better place to air this out than in the middle of a wrecking yard that’s being haunted by at least one murderghost, which is approximately infinity percent more murderghost than I’m comfortable with.”

They scowl at each for a moment, but Aria nods, thankfully. “You’re right, we’ll deal with this at the campfire. C’mon, let’s get to work, the Wraith is fast but only while it’s patrolling so we have to divide and conquer, move your asses ladies.”

Under Aria’s sharp direction we all get going. Starlight still refuses to look me in the eyes or work with me but I guess that’s a step up from a shanking, so I’m already in a better position than the first homeless shelter I stayed in.

Starlight scans the distance and her eyes fix on an unlit tower. Without another word she lights off in that direction, sticking to the edges of the walls and keeping low to let the fog cover her movement as much as possible.

I stick with Aria, and we turn in the other direction. Divide and conquer. That thing might move fast but so long as we kept working on generators it couldn’t do more than chase us. I follow the former Siren’s lead, keeping low and weaving around the little mazes of ruined vehicles.

“Never go directly through them unless you’re being chased or trying to break line of sight,” Aria whispers back towards me as we go around. “They’ll slow you down and if the Wraith catches you inside it can block you up and pin you down. Better to go around the outside near the wall-side edge.”

I nod. “Are we meeting up with Tempest and Sour?”

Aria gives me a strange look and then buries her face in her palm. “Right, I guess that never got covered. There’s only ever four of us at a time in a Trial, meaning someone always gets left behind, I just left Sour so…”

A cold weight settles in my stomach. Tempest isn’t here with us. She said she’d find me but… but the Entity wasn’t going to let her. I must have pissed it off by breaking it’s little ‘bloodweb’ rules. Well good. Let’s see how many more rules I can break.

I grit my teeth in annoyance.

“Last time it was Tempest, Starlight, Spruce, and myself,” Aria continues at a whisper. “This time it’s Tempest who was left behind. I bet she’s having kittens over you right now, I’ve never seen her get so worked up over a new arrival.”

I’m suddenly glad of the thicker mist and dim lighting.

“R-really? Why.”

Aria shoots me a smug grin as we weave around another jungle of twisted engine blocks and stop near a quietly thudding generator that was labouring just to fire two cylinders.

“Nodens only knows, Shimmer,” she answers in a tone that's drenched in sarcasm. “Let’s get to work.”

Watching Aria work is a little inspiring. She's not just good, she's better than Tempest. Her hands move with fluid surety, clicking each piece into place, crossing wires where they need to be crossed, and setting each pipe in place without hesitation. I probably learn more about how the generators go together just watching her for a minute than I did the whole time I was trying to bring that spiteful piece of pig iron in Canterlot Station back to life.

“So where’d you learn to repair stuff like that?” I ask after a moment of silent work.

“Before we got taken, I did all the grunt work,” Aria replies quietly without looking up. “Electrical, plumbing, wiring, auto-repair, whatever we needed. I like working with my hands.”

She wrenched a bit into place and we both winch at the grinding noise as another set of cylinders fire up and we wait a moment, both us listening in around us. There’s no wind or bell, though, so we continue.

“Anyway, ‘Dagi always did the talking and haggling and social stuff. I’m awful at that. 'Nata managed our money and did the cooking. We were a good team.”

“Really? Sonata handled your money?” I couldn’t keep the incredulous look off my face. Aria just gave a nod and a small smile.

“Yeah, she doesn’t seem the type, huh?” Aria chuckles, but I get the sense of something sad behind it. “Crazy math genius though, seriously. ‘Dagi and I weren’t bad but Sona was the reason we always had money.”

I try to figure out how to broach my next question gracefully. After a few seconds of dithering I decide that, since it’s Aria, the direct approach is best. “So, you said ‘we were taken’, what… what happened to—”

Aria wrenches a cylinder into place, there’s a sudden pop and the generator roars to life. Aria looks up at me with grim, haunted eyes. “I don’t want to talk about that, Shimmer. It’ll come up eventually, I guarantee it, but until then… don’t ask, please?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” I reply, put slightly off-kilter by her sudden change in her demeanor.

We take off towards the edge of the Trail after that, moving quickly between cover and keeping low to the ground. A few moments later two more gens go active almost simultaneously, and Aria grins.

“That’ll confuse him,” she mutters. “The Wraith is dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing but if you keep running up generators and breaking shit, it distracts him. He gets frustrated easily, so if we time our intervals out right we can all get away from—”

The wind blows and the bell tolls from directly behind us.

"SHIT!"

Aria and I both take off as the Wraith resolves into existence.

As it reenters this reality the air around it blurs. One moment we’ve got a good couple of meters on it then suddenly it’s nearly on top of us.

Fast! Too goddamn fast!

I leap to the side and drive my shoulder into Aria, pushing her away as the Wraith’s scythe comes down and I scream as the cruel, cold blades bite savagely into my arm.

Adrenaline sends me bolting away from both the Wraith and Aria, who looks confused and shaken, but she’s still running in the same direction we had both been going. For a terrifying second it looks like the Wraith is going to pursue her, but then it fixates on the trail of blood dripping from my wound onto the ground and takes off towards me.

It takes Aria a good couple of seconds to notice the change in the heartbeat and I get a glimpse of horror on her face when she looks back and realises what I’ve done.

Sorry Aria, but you’re more useful than me.

I sprint away, gripping the deep cut in my arm. It’s basically useless. The limb is sagging loose and bloody from my shoulder. I can barely think straight with the searing pain coming from my side. That thing hits like a truck and it's all I can do to just keep moving. I duck and weave and bob, vaulting low edges without a care for what I knock over or how much noise I’m making.

It knows where I am, so subtlety is out the window at this point anyway.

In the distance, the last generator thunders live and the deep, electric growl of the doors going active echoes through the Fog.

Good, now they all need to get going. At least I know Starlight won’t have an issue with leaving me behind. If I can just keep moving I might even make it to one of the exits.

Just. Keep. Moving.

My only warning that I’m not moving fast enough is a stain of brutal red light cast from the Wraith's hateful gaze that spills over me before the Wraith buries his scythe between my shoulder blades. I’m driven to the ground and I try to scream but I can’t. My lungs are tight and burning and my whole body is shaking. Those blades definitely punctured something necessary, and I get the feeling that, if it weren’t for the fucked up rules of this place, I’d definitely be dead by now.

I have the vague sensation of being lifted up from the ground and hefted onto the Wraith’s shoulder. I wiggle feebly, desperately trying to defy it. To try and free myself. In my stupor, though, I’d managed to run almost directly next to a hook. The monster turns unerringly to one of the little junk mazes and enters, steps past several cabinets and stops in front of one of their sacrificial poles.

I can’t help it, I start crying. I know what’s about to happen.

With one arm, the Wraith lifts me up and slams me down on the hook.

A raw scream rips its way out of my throat as the hook punctures through my shoulder and hangs me from the meat of my chest.

Even now, I try to grip the hook to try and pull myself off of it, even though I know it’s pointless. The Wraith is standing there, its almost featureless face bobbing up and down as if examining its handiwork.

I can’t give up though, I have to keep struggling, right?

That’s what Tempest said. Keep trying to stay alive. I get a solid grip on the blood-slick hook and start to lift, groaning at the searing shots of pain firing through my arm. I barely manage a couple inches before the Wraith dives in like lightning. I feel a cold pressure slash over my gut and my gorge rises. My arm is shaking as it tries to keep the pressure off. I look down and nearly throw up.

Blood is spilling down my pants and there’s a brutal gouge in my stomach. I catch a glimpse of glistening and ropy… Oh no…

I swallow down the growing desire to vomit.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

Oh fuck.

The Wraith lifts its scythe and drags a thumb along the slick, stained blade, flicking off a smear of red blood. It lets out a raspy, grating noise that makes it shake in place a little. It takes me a second to realise that it’s laughing at me. I try to pull myself up again. Gotta stay alive… gotta… stay-

OH SHIT.

The black, spidery claws of the Entity erupt from the back of the hook. I barely manage the let go of the hook in time to stop the large, central claw from spearing me, gripping it in my hand.

But the jarring does something else. I feel something… fall out of me. I feel light, empty, cold, and sick.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

The Wraith laughs raspily again, then raises his bell and rings it, prompting a rush of wind as it falls out of phase with the Trial. I don't see the distortion though, meaning it isn't moving.

I can’t stop it. I can’t get myself off of this hook. I can’t… I can’t…

A flash of purple and black crosses my vision behind the Wraith's invisible form. It takes me less than a moment to recognise it and realise that—against all sanity and odds—Aria came back for me.

No… I can’t let her.

The Wraith is still here. She has to know that.

I flash back to Spruce. It's just like it was with Billy, except there aren’t any generators to turn on to distract the Killer. The door is already open. The only thing that makes sense is for it to treat me like bait. To draw in my… my friends. To draw in someone who wants to save me. To give them a reason not to go through the Exit.

I open my mouth to tell her to go, to leave me, but all that comes out is a dry crackle. I can’t stop her, I can’t warn her as she peeks around the corner and up towards me. I see her go pale and grimace at what she sees. I look down at her, silently pleading for her to leave. It’s too late, the Wraith has nothing but time to hunt us until we’re all gone.

Stop, Aria. Stop. Please. Just… go.

Except she won’t.

I saw the look on her face when I mentioned her sisters. I don’t need to ask to get the gist of what must have happened. She won’t leave me. I can’t help but smile at that. All of my friends up and abandoned me on practically no evidence, but the Siren that I beat and stripped of her magic is willing to risk her life for me.

With enemies like this, who needs friends?

Sorry Aria, but I won’t let you die on a hook trying to save a gutted fish.

Before she has a chance to move I let go of the claw. Aria’s eyes go wide and she starts to cry out to me, but thankfully her good sense keeps that in her throat. There are tears in her eyes as I feel the spike punch through my torso, and the sound of thunder fills the air around me.

It doesn’t even hurt, really. It feels like I’m being pinned to the wall. I guess all the pain is just… white noise now.

Oh look, I’m being picked up. I’m being lifted up and… and…

Written's Quill… it’s so dark. It’s so cold. And empty.

Tempest? Aria? Sour? Starlight? Where is everybody? Rainbow Dash? I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you mad. I promise. I’m not her. I’m not Anon-A-Miss. Please believe me. Applejack? Pinkie? Fluttershy? Rarity? ...Twilight?

Anybody?