Chapter 1 - Death is Boring
The young colt groaned for what was quite likely the tenth time in the past hour. Foals were notoriously bad at sitting calmly in waiting rooms, and Pluto was no exception to this rule. To be fair, Pluto had been terrified at first. Not of the room itself (though the dull shades of grey and slightly darker grey weren’t too pleasant to look at) but rather of the other creatures who sat around the room, all of them looking rather uncomfortable in the hard, metal chairs that lined the wall. He wasn’t too sure what sort of creatures any of them were, but he had not seen anything like them in any of the books at his school. They certainly weren’t ponies, and although one of them did have wings and a beak, he was pretty sure griffons didn’t also typically have spiny tendrils growing out of the middle of their chests, each adorned with a bright yellow eyeball that swirled around at random.
Pluto wasn’t even sure how he had ended up here, and was starting to get frustrated. Every time he asked what happened, the creatures would all stare at him in confusion, or made sounds that no living being should have have been able to make. One particular abomination (who appeared to be the horrible result of a cactus, a squid, and an elephant getting to know each other a little too well one night) kept making an especially ghastly noise that gave poor Pluto a horrible migraine every time he heard it.
The strangest part by far was a massive blob of pink gunk with a small black top hat who was seated behind the desk. Every few minutes it would gurgle out a sound, and one of the creatures would stand up and walk over to the desk. They would then make a few strange noises at each other, followed by the creature proceeding through a massive, marble-chiselled door to the left.
Finally, after nearly two entire hours of waiting, the colt heard something that cause him to jump in his seat. “Plutonic Spark?” The pink blob asked in the voice of a mare who seemed to want to be anywhere but working a desk job. After a moment of his mind slowly rolling its gears, he began to slowly creep forward towards the desk.
“Um... that’s me. Hi.” He said awkwardly, a nervous look on his face as he tried to look the slime blob in its eye (and failing, due to the lack of any sort of eye or other detail on its wriggling surface) before finally settling for looking directly at its centre.
The blob shifted through a few pieces of paper on the desk, before looking in an adjacent filing cabinet. He wasn’t sure how it was managing to hold the papers, it didn’t even have any hooves! Finally, the slimy glob seemed to find the form it was looking for. “Age 10, born to Bad Idea and Ill Omen?” It asked, the tone implying it was looking for confirmation.
“Um... yes.” Pluto replied, nodding slowly. “That’s right.”
“Residing in Lower Manehatten?” The glob asked, prompting Pluto to nod again. “Born on... October 13th, 1656?” Another nod from the colt. “Died on... October 13th, 1666?”
Pluto was mid nod, when he stopped himself. “Um... Could you repeat that?”
The slime made a gurgling sound of annoyance, before repeating “Died on October 13th, 1666.” Its tone making it sound like more of a statement than a question.
“Died? I’m not dead. I’m right here!” He said, feeling surprisingly indignant at her accusation.
The slime huffed a glob of air out, a small splatter of gunk flying out and sticking to the table. “It says right here that you died of asphyxiation following a... Piñata-related accident?” It leaned in closer to make sure it was reading that right.
Pluto tried to think back. He didn’t remember dying from a Piñata. That seemed like something he would remember. “I don’t think so.” He replied, scratching the back of his head with a hoof.
The sentient glob made a sound like a groan, before motioning to a smaller, less impressive doorway to the right. “Please proceed down that hallway and to mortal affairs. Fourth door on your left, then take the seventy-third door on your right.”
Pluto was still feeling slightly confused, but nodded and pushed his way into the doorway, finding himself in an impossibly long hallway with endless unlabelled doors on each side, each one identical to each other. “Fourth door on my left... and then the seventy-third.” He mumbled to himself, straining to remember it; He was never great with numbers. He quickly made his way down the row of doors to the fourth one, pushed it open, and found himself in... another long hallway of doors.
“Alright... one... two...” He counted to himself as he began to walk down the second infinite hallway. It only took a few minutes of walking before he hit the right number. “Seventy... seventy one... seventy two... seventy three!” He said, before happily pushing his way through the door on his left. Unfortunately, he had been so focused on the door number, that he completely forgot that it was supposed to be on the right.
He immediately found himself in an extremely different environment. Gone were the sterile lights, blank walls, and cheap carpet, instead replaced by chiseled stone bricks and braziers of blazing black fire. He hadn’t even known that fire came in the black-variety previously, so he though it looked pretty neat. He began walking door the corridor, noticing that on each side of the stone hallways was more doors, but instead of wooden entrances with brass handles were stone archways, with thick, vertical bars made of some sort of dark metal that every part of his being was screaming at him not to touch.
Behind each metal door was a being of some kind, most of them bigger and somewhat scarier looking than the ones in the waiting room. Some of them were content to ignore him, some glared at him with fierce looks of hunger or anger flashing in their eyes. Eventually, he reached one door that seemed to emit an aura of coldness. Peering through the bars, he also found it much darker than the other doorways, and was having trouble seeing what creature lived there. “Um... hello?” He asked, squinting his eyes to make out any sort of shape in the blackness. At the sound of his voice, something in the dark shuffled around, before opening a blazing red eye to glare at him. “Can you help me?”
The figure’s expression change from questioning fury to confusion. “Help you?” It asked, its voice gravelly like that of a pony that had not drank in years. Shuffling towards the doorway, it opened both eyes, glaring at Pluto. “What sort of Keeper asks for help? Are you trying to mock me? Who are you?" It hissed, their eyes flicking back to anger and the hallway beginning to feel even colder.
“Mock?” Pluto asked in confusion, his own eyes widening in concern. “No! I just... I’m lost...” He mumbled. “I'm Pluto. The slime-lady gave me directions, but I think I messed up. I was supposed to go to... ‘Mortal Fairs’? I think?”
The creature’s expression changed again, its glance going wide eyed in surprise, before narrowing in thought. “...mortal you say? Well... I think I CAN help you then.” It replied, cackling softly as a smile of sharp teeth appeared beneath the red gaze. "I am very pleased to meet you, Pluto. My name is Abbadon.
Author's Note
Here's my attempt at starting fresh, with a story idea I've been cooking up for a few months now.
I will try my best to respond to any comments, and welcome any criticism. I know I'm not a great writer, and would love your point of view for how I can improve.
