"We can't bunk in twos or something?" Trixie heard Starlight ask her valet.

"L'Countess does not feesh zis," the response came, hushed and trembling.

Starlight blinked several times, probably not understanding through that accent, and rolled her eyes.

This valet business may be a nuisance, Trixie thought to herself, glaring at Mud Briar and his butler. That particular valet wore green, and his cap bore a palm tree icon.

Trixie had been examining every single spot of every room they went through as her valet, a tiny pegasus who might have been an older filly, kept a close eye directly on her. She wore blue, and her icon was a peacock... so Trixie decided to call her Peacock.

Trixie had been wrong: This act was completely enchanting. These people were dedicated. Their acts were superb! The way that freaky Countess had descended like Princess Celestia was flawless! And even when Trixie spotted something, how foolish of her not to bring her mischief kit! She wasn't sure how she could target Mud Briar with any of these fun-looking gadgets anyway, especially if their valets were following them around like they were naughty geese.

As the group passed through the ballroom, Trixie felt the pressure plate underneath the entryway. Her attention was soon drawn to the chandelier, hanging right above the grand piano. There was no way that thing was not rigged to fall right off the ceiling. It was positioned just in front of the piano, c'mon.

Trixie stared up at it and thoughtfully slipped some more bubblegum into her mouth.

"Trixie!" Sunburst mumbled to her. "That is incredibly rude!" His valet - yellow, sun icon, Trixie would call him Sunshine - patiently watched them both.

"N'impord quoi! Occupe-toi de teff oignonff." she replied. Whadeffa! Mind your own buffineff. These folks had surely had ruder guests, it was a game for kids. Besides, she was already putting a plan in motion. Sunburst looked at her, utterly flummoxed, and awkwardly shambled off.

Peacock and Sunshine stood by like watchdogs as Trixie admired the mount of the chandelier. The oddly claw-shaped one that looked like it might open. "Nife fandelier."

"L'Countess eez quite proud of eet!" Peacock responded, as though Trixie were the most elegant lady she'd ever met.

Soon, they were moving to the next room.

"Do you haff a pen?" Trixie asked Peacock in the hallway, still chewing her gum. Starlight looked at her with a very Twilight Sparkle-ish scowl.

The maid's hoof went to one of her pockets, then set back down. "Why mademoiselle, whateffer for? I'm afraid I haffn't paper."

"Laiffe tomber." Neffa mind. Trixie had already gotten what she needed, actually. The maid must have understood, since she smiled and nodded. Trixie hoped waving her literally-gummed-up, half-forgotten Prench around wouldn't come back to bite her like it usually did. She needed to stop being so darn sassy.

After several short speeches for each room, full of cute little hints and insinuations she found rather endearing, they were all led separately to their bedrooms. For some strange reason, the eight rooms of the house were spread evenly around the perimeter, and the eight guest bedrooms were spread evenly between them. Trixie's bedroom featured the emblem of a peacock over the door, glowing brightly, presumably for ease of visibility. She smiled. Mud Briar must then be staying in the room with a palm tree over the door. This was good to know.

Peacock opened the door and bowed Trixie in.

There was a comfy bed, a bedside table, a bunch of drawers, and a small table crammed together into a space not much larger than Trixie's wagon.

The ever-wary unicorn (except when she wasn't) suspiciously eyed all of these things. She was particularly suspicious of the bed. Then, carefully adjusting her gum in her mouth, Trixie tripped on her cape and fell on her face in the only clear spot on the floor.

"Sacre bleu! Are you alright?" the girl rushed to her side to help her back up. As they rose, Trixie easily swiped the pen from Peacock's pocket, moving it to her cape. She wouldn't have dared to try this with an older, more experienced showpony.

"I'm fine," she rasped, rolling her eyes.

"Sen you must lissen, s'il vous plaît," Peacock suddenly recited, in a low, desperate voice. "You haff made a très terrible mistake to come to zees cursed place!"

Trixie suspected everyone else was being given a similar spiel, and opted to cut hers short. "Your Counteff iff a fampire," Trixie said with her mouth full, while checking the drawers in her room. She was acting the way Starlight did in their O&O sessions; skip the dialogue, loot everything, be a total bitch, etc.

"It is obfious, non?" the girl replied, not missing a beat. "She cap-chaired our souls long ago! She may yet take yours! We, her servants, cannot leaf unless she is slain. Even zees act of disobedience may have harsh consequences..."

Trixie respected her performance (though not her accent), but she would not be the one to slay the Countess; hers was another zombie. She guaranteed she would not be the hero of the story by immediately claiming the privilege, still chewing her gum, and choosing to avoid Prench in this already-confusing rant she was about to give:

"Fear not, young wady, for da Wife and Well-Prepared Triffie came here knowing thiff. Yeff, fee may ffeem utterly unarmed and poorly dreffed for the occaffion, but thiff is merely to avoid ffuffiffon; Triffie will break this curfe of yourff."

Nah, she wouldn't. But if she could break her own curse by breaking Mud Briar's head open, by say, dropping a chandelier on him, that would be magnifique.

"Vraiment?" Peacock asked hopefully. Really? Trixie doubted the mare had actually understood a word she'd said through the gum. The maid nervously fidgeted with her dress, giving Trixie a mild panic attack; but she could see her actually using some kind of device. "If you are as prepared as you say..." She paused. Trixie knew she had communicated something and was awaiting a response. "Fairy well. Go, and do vat you can, but be careful: L'Countess hass eyes efferywhere." She looked both ways and coughed. "Bonne soirée, Miss Triffie!" she said loudly, and bowed out of the room, leaving the door unlocked.

Trixie presumed that everyone else's door would be locked; this must be how they kept the show under control. Only one or two guests would be out and about at a time, while the rest would be in their rooms, listening to the scary stuff happening outside, or solving some puzzle in their room or whatever, until some "story event" occurred that everybody attended. The guests must take turns in this game.

Trixie suspected that the order of unlocked doors was probably also the order ponies were "taken" by the Countess. This was the only way to guarantee everyone got a turn. It wouldn't do for the first pony to disappear during this first turn; there should be one more story event that pretended to be normal before someone vanished, it was a better build-up. So, Trixie would probably be "taken" after the first story event, during the next pony's turn. What her role would be afterward - as part of the scares, perhaps? - she did not know. She would not likely be able to do anything during the story time; she had to make the most of this turn.

"L'Countess hass eyes efferywhere" probably meant that their staff was monitoring the rooms, deciding how to progress based on what the players did. Secret cameras would be expensive, and not very optimal given the ornate decoration of the mansion. The valets likely doubled as monitors, since they only needed to watch the pony whose door wasn't locked, and then only after the valets had all departed. She rather doubted the private rooms were monitored themselves.

Now that Peacock was gone, Trixie took the paper from her bedside table. There was probably some invisible ink on it or something, whatever, Trixie had a far more important use for it. Taking a risk in presuming the bedrooms were not monitored, she pulled out the pen she'd stolen and wrote as quickly as she could. As a unicorn who relied on elegance and precision, this was blazingly fast indeed. She wrote six notes reading:

AVOID BALLROOM, DEATH INSIDE
DO NOT TRUST VALET

... and one note reading:

PLAY PIANO
C A D
DO NOT TRUST VALET

The final line of each note ensured, hopefully, that none of the other guests would show the notes to their valets, who would not be looking for them either. They would only look for notes that were meant to be part of the game.

Trixie replaced everything into her cape, took a deep, slow breath - she didn't want to choke on her gum this time - and headed out, starting her watch.

Trixie estimated she had no more than ten minutes - nine, now, after writing those notes - before they forced her turn to end somehow. Probably less. Also, she wasn't sure she wouldn't bump into any ponies in monster suits.

Her first task was to find the Palm Tree room. She had exited between the Conservatory and the Billiards Room... and at the first corner she found, the Palm Tree room was on her right. How convenient! She turned to approach with a smile.

A horrible squeaking sound and a dance of small shadows along the wall made her nearly swallow her gum, readying her smoke bombs. She soon realized it was a special effect of bats flying past. When this was over, she wanted to hug everyone who made this place and tell them what a good job they'd done.

She rushed to the palm tree door and knocked to confirm its resident.

"Yes?" Mud Briar responded immediately. "Who is it?" Only he could possibly respond in this way in this context. Trixie slipped the "PLAY PIANO" note under his door. "Yes? Yes? Hello?" Mud Briar continued to call as Trixie walked off.

She ran in turn to the other bedrooms, jumping at each creaky floor panel and anonymous breath or moan, and slipped them all a copy of the "AVOID BALLROOM" note without knocking.

Trixie then headed straight to the ballroom. It would have been more efficient to do this step earlier, as it was right next to Mud Briar's room... but she estimated she had only a few minutes left, and if this took more time than she expected, she preferred to have failed to doctor the chandelier rather than fail to warn everyone but Mud Briar about it.

As before, she distinctly felt a plate underneath the carpet as she entered. As she expected, it was not yet active and the chandelier stayed where it was; it was far too soon in the game for something so dramatic to turn on.

She walked under the chandelier and looked up. Yep, it was clear as day now - the chandelier was exactly over where she'd be standing if she was about to play the piano. It was most likely rigged to fall down the instant a foot was set in the room, or while exiting, once the pressure plates had been activated. That should guarantee nobody would get hurt as they'd be far outside of its danger zone. She suspected it was made of brass and sugar-glass, and wondered how in the world they would keep repairing or replacing it every game (and the piano, if damaged.)

Trixie jumped as scary music started to play from hidden speakers, her heart rate doubling instantly. Aw shine, she thought. Whoever's theme song that is, he's probably how they're going to end my turn.

Trixie made a show of examining the piano, then fumbled and dropped half of her smoke bombs. Blue and purple mist filled the room. While hidden, she removed the gum from her mouth, so that it would be less obvious to any monitors that she had brought gum into the ballroom when she spoke. "Oh dammit!" She coughed, trying to sound as panicked and angry as she could. "Trixie shouldn't have brought these stupid toys!"

Trixie then "felt" the chandelier with her magic, trying to locate the claw. Once she'd found it, she split the gum into thirds, slightly lifted the chandelier - which was heavier than Pinkie Pie, sweet Celestia - and wedged the gum in where it rested on the claw mechanism's three fingers. She then gently set the chandelier back down. Its sheer weight ought to have firmly glued it to the gum by the time it was activated, she was sure. Unable to see through the smoke, she would have to hope her artifice was not visible before the time came.

"Oi boss, we got a problem here innit," a gruff male voice mumbled from the east door - probably the guy who the music was for, using a walkie-talkie the way the valets did. Trixie had noticed that everyone in this place had a really offensive accent, for some reason.

"What is going on." came a deep female voice from the west-ish south door, and the scary music stopped. Trixie's heart stopped too; without the accent, the Countess sounded just like Chrysalis! As Trixie heard them entering the fog and coughing, she took the east-ish south door and fled.

"This gets worse every time we play," the Countess who might have been Chrysalis said in a long-suffering voice.

Trixie zoomed into her room and closed the door, leaning against it. Was that Chrysalis?! She suddenly realized that Starlight had been suspicious earlier... obviously not that suspicious or she would've started shooting. But up the other sleeve, Chrysalis could turn into things. Wouldn't she have... Trixie wasn't sure... disguised herself if she was part-timing in a haunted house, or anywhere else?

And for that matter... Did Chrysalis need money? Trixie thought she just slimily rolled around the shadows and ate people now and again. Which... is exactly what the Countess did in the game script. Well, shine.

Could it be a coincidence? Trixie had seen a few movies where actresses passed as Princess Luna in every way but the volume; the Princess may as well have been playing herself. It was a little harder to find a mare who could rival the heights of Chrysalis or Princess Celestia, though. On TV, camera tricks and short fellow actors could make it work, but live?

Trixie slowed her breathing and calmed down. Even if that was Chrysalis, she implied this game had been run several times before. Chrysalis had consistently not been smart enough to mislead opponents with false statements, so Trixie had to presume everyone who played this game was safe, or else the team running it would have to vanish when the Princesses came to investigate, or Twilight Sparkle blew up the house, or whatever.

Exhausted by all this thinking, Trixie thoughtlessly fell onto her bed... which flipped over, dropping her into a trapdoor.

"TRIXIE KNEW IT!!!" she shrieked as she tumbled.

Author's Note

Why no, I don't know French, what tipped you off?

Please do not leave comments that some of Trixie's "Prench" is spelled wrong. I know. So is the English. She had gum in her mouth.