Time flows differently for us all. It’s something most creatures don’t think about, but a day for you, might seem like a lifetime for another, or maybe a single second. Time is relative. For me the last few thousand years had been little more than a series of blinks. I didn't care about the time wasted. I was, in effect, a reminder. Even with my inaction in the world my statue stood tall, without time or weather altering it’s visage. My thin wooden mask still covered my face, and my knife was still held ready in my hand. My leather jacket was still billowing behind me, an immortal testament to my final lunge forward. The only part of my statue I didn’t enjoy was the stance. I was mid-pounce, my knife held ready ahead of my body. The only issue was weight. Since I was early in the lunge when I was petrified I only had one foot on the ground, which meant my statue was held up by a small array of pillars. It’s surprisingly hard to give the final sort of dread that was needed when you're held up by small stone pillars. And so I waited, in the sort of peaceful contentment that can only come from doing your job well.

Some might call being trapped in stone horrible, and they would be right. For them. For me, it was almost retirement, no more slinking in shadows and hunting those that escape their fate. I was doing my job without having to put forth the effort, and after a few hundred years of hunting, even my extended stay in stone felt like a long weekend. Plus the gardens were calm and peaceful, which was a nice change from my natural hunting grounds. Which is why I mentally groaned as something began pulling at the stonework of my skin, cracking it and freeing the clothes underneath. With small sounds my prison began failing, flecks of stone and mortar falling off my body like caked on mud. My arms were freed first, allowing me to brace against the floor as the rest of my body gained its freedom. After my body collapsed I was able to easily pick myself up, if only to look around my surroundings without the grey haze stone vision clouded everything in.

The gardens were brighter than I would have guessed. Either that or the stone clouded my vision even more than I thought. Bright colors assaulted my vision with a nonstop fusillade that could only be matched my full-fledged artillery. My head began to pound from sensory overload when the reason why finally clicked. It was daytime, with the light already starting to singe my covered skin despite the layers I wore. I grumbled as I slunk into the shadows, trying to listen to the voice in my head.

Some might call me crazy for listening to the voice in my head, but they are fools. I am not crazy because of the voice in my head, there’s a whole host of reasons far higher on the scale that attribute to my benign little madness. No, the voice in my head was my closest confidant and greatest foe. The Entity. I do not know what it wants, it seems to want things to die when they’re supposed to, though it’s occasional requests for healthy ponies somewhat diminishes that theory. No, it's easier to assume he’s some mad god. A dime a dozen beacon of true madness that has a job as old as time. Mostly because that’s what I was. But it was my sanctuary from the burning light, letting me rest my weary head without pain and worry. It’s a shame the cost that came with it.

The Entity embraced my body, spiriting me away almost instantly. Then the dreams came. Visions of one pony. I was forced to watch the little purple unicorn live through her life. She was the student of Celestia, one of the two to pass my test for immortality. I watched as she started to delve into her studies, and laughed as she quickly became a recluse. She stood against Luna, who had apparently gone mad. I silently applauded as she became the scion of magic, and my approval was a rare badge of honor. From there it was a spiral of moments. Learning with her friends, standing up to villains, and eventually earning a pair of wings. At that moment, the metaphorical feed was cut, and I was roughly jettisoned from my not so peaceful sleep and into a different area.

I rubbed the back of my head, muttering as I slowly rolled from my none to gentle toss from the closest thing to home I had ever known. “Damn bastard.” I sat up, pulling up my left arm to check over the knife. It was still sharp, and as I ran my thumb across the blade I thin line of my sickly gray blood seeped over the shined metal. I watched with the sort of dull appreciation that repetition brings, seeing skin knit back together in front of my eyes. I grunted as I decided to actually look over my surroundings. A dark forest, fog creeping into my vision from all corners. Yep, a hunting ground. I sighed and hunched over slightly. “Really, not even some time off before I have to test some stupid young pony who thought she could drink from our own cursed little well?”

I moved quickly from my grounds, feeling the pull of the entity weaken as I wandered away. I heard his displeased whispers as I walked off, but there wasn't the pull that told me my target was there. I rolled my eyes under the red-stained smile that was my mask. “Don’t be greedy you rusty old hook, I’ve got to get her here before you can have your little snack. Besides, you know as well as I that she’ll probably live.” I ran through the memories he gave me. “Well, as long as she doesn’t break down at the sight of her own blood.”

The whispers ceased, and I made it out of the woods easily. Small town, big castle. I could easily guess where she lived. Most alicorns had a thing for castles, that and there was a slight pull in the direction of the castle. As if my knife hand was reaching out for the towers. I made my way through the darkness of night, letting myself follow the subtle tug the Entity was using to guide me to what he hoped was his next meal. I also felt several smaller pulls, this time with actual names and histories being jammed into my head. Those that had evaded death, slipping through the metaphorical cracks. They got leeway since it was not intentional, but targets to at least speak to and correct anyways.

The castle was... sparse in decoration. I remembered Celestia and Luna’s castle when they were forced to undergo my little test. Coated in deep blues and vibrant golds. It seemed an affront to my nature of darkness and pain to be in such an overtly happy place. But this castle was furnished with the very basics, with very utilitarian furniture and the only actual decoration I could find was pictures of my target and her friends. I had heard her name, but I didn’t care to learn it. I could either try to learn it if she survived, or she’d be a snack within a week or two. Either way, caring right now was stupid.

Instead, I opted for the same cold indifference that had powered me for the last few millennia. I followed the pull, letting it give me a rough direction to follow as I wandered the castle. It was a veritable maze, only if I found one stairwell, I was forced to wander the next floor, which was always larger than the last. I complained as I explored. “What crazy fool decided that a reverse pyramid was the way to design their freaking home?”

About halfway through the castle, the pull on my arm leveled out, giving me a hint that my poor little soul was on the same level as me. On a whim, I peeked out a window to look up. My hunch was right, and the castle leveled out to a smooth wall. “Of course, she’s at the area where right where it all evens out so I could properly search. Which god did I piss off to deserve this?”

There was a moment of annoyance that I let wash over me before I followed my arm, focusing more on work than the general annoyance of hunting down a lone little lamb. I found myself grumbling again as I walked. “Seriously, I could put this off for a few years. Focus on catching up with my backlog instead of worrying about a new immortal to test.” I heard whispers begin sounding in my ear and rolled my eyes. “Yeah yeah, you want a damn snack. Just saying, I have other responsibilities you know?

I passed by a particularly large door, and my arm jumped up. I raised an eyebrow as my knife was pointed firmly at the door. I shook my arm loose, letting it fall to my side as I opened the door, and was met with the most organized office I had ever seen. Labels were sitting under every item, with everything sitting neatly in its specific place. The only stain upon the perfect order was the desk itself. I was coated in books, piled high in various stacks and towers that seemed to defy any conventional knowledge of physics. My target sat at one of the two desks, flipping through three books with efficiency I hadn’t seen before. She heard the door and perked an ear up. “Spike, is that you? Could you bring me Trottenheimer’s latest report on infusing metal with magic? It’s in the mail sack.”

I shrugged, moving towards the mail sack, which was labeled. God was this girl a nerd. I dug around for a second, pulling the various packages out until I found the offending document. With a grunt, a held it over the young alicorns shoulder. “This it?” I nearly flinched at the first time I heard my voice at a normal volume. It used to sound like a hushed whisper even when I screamed, which I liked. Now I spoke with a voice deep enough to shake stone and make windows tremble in their frames. It was not the voice of a scion of death, it was the voice of a golem or some other boring creature. I frowned under my mask as the alicorn seemed to study on. “Do you have a cold or something Spike? You aren’t sounding so hot.”

I smirked, voice or no I love it when people don’t recognize me. Gives me a chance for some polite conversation which is a rarity in my line of work. “Nope, still as healthy as the day I spawned, but you have the wrong name.”

The alicorn turned around, her ears going down in confusion before she even faced me. When she faced me is when she got more interesting. I had been doing this for years, and I thought I had seen every reaction any of the creatures gave. The griffins challenged me to duels, the minotaurs simply accepted whatever fate was coming, and ponies normally freaked out, though older ones tended to accept their fate easily. This wasn’t every creature’s reaction I’d ever met, but at the core, these rules were generally true. They had never just not seemed to care. Which is precisely what the alicorn did. “Oh, I’m sorry, but the libraries closed right now, can you come back in the morning?”

I stared in shock for a moment. Was I really that forgotten? Or maybe I just wasn’t common knowledge, but almost every immortal is told what they were stepping into. On the upside, this could turn out better for me, I did have some backlog in this town after all. Namely one pony who had managed to simply outlast death. I was still peeved none of the others had fixed that. Unless they were all gone by now, not that it mattered. Besides, the entity could wait for its possible snack. Despite its loving embrace I didn’t have to listen to everything it said. I shrugged, taking the easy win. “Fine, I’ll return tomorrow at seven in the evening, please be easier to find next time, as I have news regarding your ascension.” I didn’t give her time to respond, instead simply fading into a fog cloud. I had very few powers that I actually used, most being far too dramatic for my taste. However, turning into living fog was a power I enjoyed for multiple reasons. One, it cut me off from the entity almost completely. No pull to victims, no mild urge to kill anything close. Just me myself and I, my preferred company. Two, it let me watch things without them knowing I was watching.

So I got to see as Twilight stared in abject horror at my body dispersing into a light grey fog that clung to the floor like an amorphous spider. I didn’t take the time to bask in the confusion like I used to. After all, I had work to do. I let myself roll out through the castle window, a low cloud slowly falling from the sky in the cool evening light. I let myself take a moment to commune with the entity, which is surreal. I guess I could describe it as meditation but that fails to capture the pure mental strain that I’ve come to associate with it. It was more like... descending, giving up control of your mind and letting something else grab and paw at your thoughts. It was invasive, and if you did it too often you almost became addicted, allowing a scion to easier distance themselves from the horrors of the day to day jobs. I tried to commune at most once a day if only to keep from mixing too much with all the creatures the rusty hook ate.

I felt myself standing on a web made of gristle and grit, my shoes wet with the dark red substance I refused to look at. I focused my eyes forward, letting myself walk confidently while several crunches and splurts sounded with every step. I paused at the small window made of bone and blood. I sighed as it showed a very confused alicorn in her study, and ran my hand over it. I knew what the entity wanted, I needed to know the full list of sinners first. I was surprised to only find two others, considering I had been sealed for ages I assumed more ponies would have ascended, and most of the other creatures still hadn’t cracked the personal code for a god-like being to ascend. I glanced at the pink alicorn and the purple one. There was also a third target who was luckily easy. A mare who had slipped through the cracks, old and tired. I stared at her for a moment as the window showed her tucking a small filly into bed, before moving outside of a small farmhouse. I broke contact as soon as I had a location clear in my mind, fading back into reality at the grass under the castle.

I looked over the town, and let myself roll through the center. I didn’t slow as ponies crossed my path, simply continuing my journey as I made my way to the farm. It didn’t take long, the farm being fairly close to the town’s outskirts. I paused as I looked over the fields from the entry arch. A veritable forest of apple trees all lined up in nice little rows. A million memories flashed through my head. A loud metal contraption roaring as it made its way through the fields. A familiar face smiling down at me as I sat in his lap. My form lapsed, returning me to my bipedal form. I shook my head, dispelling the memories from an unknown era. I began a slow trek up the path, letting the darkness swaddle me like a babe. There was work to be done, and on my honor, I would do it.

The farmhouse was a simple thing, and one some part of my mind found calming. I saw the pony I was looking for sitting in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth in a gentle wave. She looked at me but didn’t recoil as I walked closer. When I finally arrived she smiled. “Well now, guess something up top finally noticed I ain’t been doing much dying, huh youngster?”

I nodded, glad that this would be easy. Before I spoke I waved my hand. To the uneducated, it might be misconstrued as a greeting, though it was more of a farewell. “Indeed, death comes for all. I have come to correct that error.”

The mare leaned back in her rocking chair. “I don’t believe all that hoopla about challenging you to a game for my life is true, is it?”

I waved my head back and forth. “It is more than a rumor, though truer than not. But at your age, it would do worse than kill you. It is not a game where losing is simply dying. If you wish to follow that path you will be eaten slowly, a part of your soul becoming a meal for an entity far beyond anything even most immortals would dare to know.”

The mare nodded. “Eyup, figured it was something like that. Then will it hurt?”

I shrugged. “I can claim your soul many ways, you may pass in your sleep, or perhaps die in your chair.”

The mare sighed, moving a small pipe from somewhere behind her. “Then do I got the time for one last smoke?”

I nodded. “When your case has been forgotten as long as it has, I would be cruel to deny you a final pleasure.”

She let out a bark of laughter as she struggled with a book of matches. I walked up, lighting one for her and held it inside the pipe. “Ha, Pleasure he says. This thing ain’t naught but useless danger, but when you’re as old as me you stop caring.”

I stayed silent, watching her take her final smoke. She raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t much of a talker, are you?”

I shook my head. “Most souls are not particularly talkative when I tell them they will die. I lost the gift of small talk long ago.”

She shrugged, taking another hit from her pipe. “Well then, guess I should get going huh? Can you make sure my grandson is the one what finds me? He’ll cope the best.” I nodded, walking up to stand beside her. She paused, craning her neck to look at me. “So when’ll it happen.”

I patted her back. “It happened as soon as I arrived, you were dead before my first word. I was simply waiting until you were ready.”

She looked down, finding her own head touching her chest, as her soul sat in the chair completely seperate from her body. I pointed in front of her, showcasing the ebony door placed at the exit of the farm. She smiled. “So what’s on the other side?”

I shrugged. “Whoever has been waiting on you probably, though I know not the specifics. That’s not my job, I am simply a teacher and guide.”

She looked between me and the door, standing up and letting out a surprised gasp. “Why, I ain’t moved this easy in darn-near fifty years!”

I nodded. “Your body’s frailty is gone, so go and rejoin your lost loved ones.”

She nodded. “Well, I don’t think I should thank the thing what killed me, but thank you anyway. I’ve been wanting a good long rest for a while now.”

I simply nodded, turning to the farmhouse. With a tendril of fog, I searched the house, finding the lone stallion in the house. With a simple effort he awoke, feeling the need to go outside. My job done, I returned to the forest. Seven tomorrow night, that’s when my next job began. I was almost excited to start a hunt again.

Author's Note

Well, here's a three-shot idea I had. So all you wonderful people know the basic outline I'll go ahead and spill. Here is Chapter one, which is an overly long intro so you can get used to his basic powers. Chapter two will be a simple explanation of what's going to happen. Chapter three will be the hunt itself, and where the story will earn it's M tag.