The three of us raced across town toward the theatre, which was near the river and lake. The clock above us began to sound out, eight chimes ringing across the landscape as we proceeded as fast as we could.

“So, what’s the plan?” I called, galloping as fast as I could, not caring that my limbs were filling with lactic acid, thereby slowing me down.

“We have to prevent the play from starting,” Cheerilee replied, as we went along. “No doubt Chery will give an opening speech before proceedings start, so that’ll give us a chance to get in there and stop her.”

“The others will have noticed we were not there to get into costume!” Diamond observed. “So that should slow them down further, I’ll wager!” She then looked to me. “How long have we got?”

“30 minutes!” I replied, my breathing getting harder as I ran out of oxygen.

As we raced into the theatre, the lights were just beginning to fall upon the audience circle, and furthermore we could hear quiet, hushed voices from all seated there. Just then, the orchestra began to play a fanfare, a loud, long one that took at least one minute to play in full and another three to finish echoing away. I positioned myself at the top of the stalls, looking downward to the stage itself. This was followed by the thunder of drums, and forward stepped Cherry, disguised as her sister, followed by the spotlight swivelling round and stopping on her. The last voices died down.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, it is with great pride that my students and I welcome you to our very own play,” she said, in a tone that sounded both warm and sinister at the same time. “They have all worked so hard on this over the past few months, and we hope you will enjoy it as much as we enjoy bringing it to you. Of one thing I am certain: this will be an evening you won’t soon forget,” she quickly added, the irony more than obvious to myself.

Oh, you’re right about that, I thought.

“And now without further ado I am proud to introduce, performed in Ponyville for the first time ever: Reginald the-”

“STOP! HOLD EVERYTHING!”

There was an audible murmur from the crowd at the interruption, and as they looked down Cheerilee ran onto stage and addressed the audience.

“Everypony,” she said, “it is not safe to remain; please leave, immediately!”

Cherry looked at her. “What?” she said. “How in the world did you escape the laser collars?”

There were shocked gasps.

“Two students helped me escape,” Cheerilee answered. “Students YOU were planning to murder!”

More gasps echoed through the chamber, until a voice perked up.

“Erm, excuse me,” said Applejack, a hint of confusion to her voice, “but Ah don’t understand. How can there be two Cheerilee’s?”

With that Cheerilee, having heard Applejack, bumped into Cherry, causing the cutie mark on Cherry to vanish and be replaced with her own. At least, what I assumed was her own.

“That,” she said, “is not Cheerilee. That is my twin sister.”

More gasps. “IMPOSTER!” cried a large, fat pony, whose name I didn’t know but whom I had often seen fishing outside his house.

Cherry screamed. “Well then! To the backup plan!”

Her hoof slammed down on a concealed button-how many concealed buttons were there?-and there were a series of loud explosions from below and above. Stage equipment began to fall as cracks appeared in the stages, and there was a familiar smell of acrid smoke.

So, this was her backup plan. I subsequently learned she had planted explosives across the theatre in case her ruse got rumbled before she could kill her intended victims-my own classmates and myself. As the theatre staff were busy evacuating the attendees, I saw the cast run off stage and into the stalls, dropping down the side of the stage, ditching costumes and props as they went.

Cherry vanished through a trapdoor, which Cheerilee ran over to and held open. “Come on Silver!” she called. “We cannot let her escape!”

I jumped down with her and we ran through the burning underworld, flames licking through and smoke covering obscene machines, including the needle device I would have been strapped into. There was also a tank filled with something or other, as well as a table with a horde of rats below. With nothing to stop them, they had scampered for the surface, and went about running amongst out hooves.

But we couldn’t stop. We had to prevent Cherry from escaping. As we continued onward, we reached a large room. This room was large, and dominated by a metal cage with bars below it. Below that was a vast chamber filled with...nothing, actually. I would have thought it was acid or something, but no. It was totally empty.

We found Cherry there, who backed up. “You’re not getting me!” she cried. “You’ve ruined enough of my plans as it is, and you won’t wreck anything else!” She then backed up further, and fell into the cage, the door shutting behind her as it did.

“What?” she asked. I ran over, but must have slipped, and crashed into another lever, which to my horror began to do something else.

I then realised this was the press which had been mentioned in the script copy I saw. There was a large metal plate moving downwards.

Cherry looked up in terror. “No, no!” she cried. “Please, stop the machine! MERCY!”

“Like you were going to show my students?” Cheerilee said furiously. “No. Reap what you sow, Cherry Blossom. You wanted a Scarlet Harvest of their blood. Instead, you will only get your own.”

It seemed the press had been damaged in the fire, as suddenly it shot downwards, smashing into Cherry and physically blowing her to pieces. Bone, blood, and flesh rained down into the pit below, a sea of red filling the space up with a scene of revulsion.

I could see Cheerilee gagging, and I wanted to throw up myself. “Come on,” I heard her say. “Let’s get out of here.”

To conclude, we all did get out alive. Although suspicion was initially placed on Cheerilee due to the lack of evidence, the theatre was salvaged by the fire brigade, and all the machinery, as well as that built in the basement of Cheerilee’s house, were brought in and used to prove her innocence. And slowly, life got back to normal.

Well, as back to normal as it could be. We were all scarred by those few weeks, and even though I am now old and grey (which, admittedly is not much of a change from then), that night, my moment of near-death...it still haunts me.

That we nearly ended up...in the Garden of the Dead.

Author's Note

If you are reading this Unahim, I hope you like what I did.

Next week, we go back to our usual schedule.