Eerie Lantern and the Not-So-Dead Haunting

Chapters

The Ghost Who Tended The Lost
The Sisters Who Believed The Unbelievable
The (Un)Expectedly Doomed Lunch Date
The Flight That Uncovered The Truth
The Colt Who Turned Back
The Mortician Who Dwelled in Darkness
The Pony Who Feared The Living

The Ghost Who Tended The Lost

Scarlet Orange knew the abyss.

Honestly? It wasn’t that interesting.

The abyss was ice and darkness and rigidity. Memories of who she was and how she came to be there were out of Scarlet’s reach, always dangling in the periphery of her attention. She was aware there was more to who she was, but in the long stretches of freezing silence only a single thought prevailed:

What is that curious taste?

This repeated endlessly until...

Until came the heat.

The heat always woke Scarlet.

Gave her back enough of herself so that she could scream, and despair, and remember.

The memories were broken pieces, but still, she remembered.

Her first undead years alone in the cold would have been quiet and miserable, but it would have been a gracious burden had that been all. Instead, the awful regularity with which Scarlet was lit on fire was hellish torture.

She couldn’t have known back then that the heat came from each time water was boiled in the teapot she haunted, her soul trapped in the ceramic beneath those pretty, pretty blue flowers...

Ghosts didn’t get to pick their hauntings. She’d learn that very quickly after her emancipation. No, ghosts were lucky if they even remembered why they haunted something to begin with. That was usually how it went.

The trauma of death, at least for a lingering ghost, was usually too sudden, too painful, too shocking for them to properly grasp. You didn’t haunt the mortal plane because you left it on a happy note. The forgetting was a mercy.

In the years Scarlet would devote to helping others like herself, she’d stand firm that death recall was a last resort in shepherding souls onward.

After all, such knowledge could drive one mad, and curing mad ghosts was such a chore.

Scarlet had been close to going mad herself, whilst still trapped in the ceramic.

Decades passed. The brutal changes from mindless cold to burning awakening would have been enough to push any soul into irreparable fragmentation.

But Scarlet was an Orange.

In life, Oranges were famous for their thick skins and deeply rooted wills, unyielding against floods of misfortune. As much as she suffered, Scarlet was determined to make this just as true in her strange new existence. She swore this to herself, time and again, just before the heat abandoned her, dropping her back into the chilly embrace of the abyss.

We shall not bend! We shall not break!

Oranges… stand… tall!

Her family had settled inhospitable lands, bringing the bounty of their fruit with them. Their nectar gave way to villages, towns, and cities. Like their kin, the Apples, they nourished a young kingdom to might.

And what did Scarlet fight to hold on to, apart from her piecemeal memory?

The voices.

With each wave of awakening heat, Scarlet could hear a warping slew of strange voices, all ringing through her like plates clattering on a tray. It aggravated her, because the voices were unintelligible. Indifferent. They never answered her pleas. And she screamed so hard—

HAVE MERCY, PLEASE!

They were her one chance. But the living never heard. How could they? The dead did not speak with sounds as mortals did, not that she knew this. Sound was an audible wave of pressure generated by something—properties of the physical world releasing energies that carried through air, water, or solids. This wave of pressure was perceived by ears and translated to the minds of the living.

Scarlet was a spirit without body. Worse, she was trapped in an inanimate object. The ghostly powers she would come to discover were not yet at her disposal.

So her essence screamed her pleas, fraying her soul, but as they were just psychic flashes of pure intent and not audible words, none came to her rescue.

But Scarlet, hard-headed as her mother made her, refused to give up. When the heat raised her from the dark, she would cry out, long and hard, until some-blasted-creature heard her.

So she was quite relieved (and most certainly not surprised) when, one day, it finally happened.

Finally… Finally!

Finally!

“H-Hello? Is… Is someone in there?” a youthful voice spoke. It sounded small. Uncertain. But not afraid. Just… nervously curious.

The shock of actually hearing an intelligible response overwhelmed Scarlet for a moment. A short moment.

It’s hot! she managed to moan. It hurts!

There was a pause. Then the young voice gasped.

“Oh! Oh no! Here, lemme—”

Scarlet’s world lost the bite of heat. Everything still scalded, but she could already sense the difference. Her world would cool. She sighed—though not with complete relief. After all, without heat, came the mindless abyss…

Her time was limited.

The youth spoke again. Her voice (it sounded like a ‘her’) was closer. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know anyone was inside! Or— Or that…” she trailed off.

The silence stretched on.

Scarlet felt her fear spike. She could already feel the tug of the dark. Without intense heat, she’d sink, and quickly.

She needed to speak. She needed to be heard. Now.

No! Please! Don’t go! she cried. Don’t leave me alone!

“I’m here!” The youth sounded breathless. “Sorry, I didn’t leave. I was just wondering if… if I was letting my imagination run away from me again. My mama doesn’t like it when I hear the voices.” The youth’s voice turned sullen. “She says if she catches me talking to myself, she’ll put me on the bitters again.” She made a retching noise.

If Scarlet would have been free to, she would have sat up, ears perked. Bitters?

“Yeah…” A little sigh. “They're these yucky drinks the doctor gives me. It tastes like chalk and makes everything… not fun.” Another pause. When the youth spoke again, her voice sounded muffled, like her words were coming through tight lips. “The other foals tease me for being so dull because of it.”

Scarlet frowned in the darkness. This sounded familiar. Why did it sound familiar?

Her mind’s eye flashed with images, but she didn’t understand them:

A mare with red lipstick and a bouffant yelling at her from a stagecoach.

A brown medicine bottle breaking on a dirty city street.

A votive candle flickering on a white table cloth, its light dancing on a glass of wine…

Was this her past? She didn’t know.

Do bitters… make you sleepy? she asked wispily, still enthralled with the winking brilliance of a life she only half-remembered.

“Yeah!” The youth’s voice brightened again. “Did your mama make you take bitters too?”

I don’t… I don’t know. Scarlet shivered. Perhaps? Long ago.

She pushed the images away from her.

They were distractions. She was sinking lower.

The cold was coming.

Too soon. Too soon!

I need help, little one! Scarlet pleaded. I’m stuck!

“Uh, how did you get in our teapot, anyway?”

What? I’m… I’m in a teapot?

The youth giggled. “Yeah! How did you get in there? It’s a silly place to get stuck!”

Scarlet huffed with impatience. I don’t know! What does it matter?! I just want to get out! They were wasting time!

“Sorry…” And the youth sounded like she was. It was easy to imagine her ears drooping.

Scarlet tried to calm her voice, even as her panic swelled. Snapping would not help. She needed to remember who she was speaking to—a foal. It was just… hard to keep from flights of emotion when the cold was already nipping. It never took long after the fire was gone for the numbness to start.

I-It’s all right, hon, Scarlet said. But I need you to work quick and concentrate, all right? I’m stuck in your teapot, and I need help getting out. C-Can you get me out?

Another pause. Scarlet had to resist screaming again.

Finally, the youth spoke. “Maybe magic would work? But… B-But my horn is weak. The doctor said—”

Tartarus take the doctor! Scarlet snarled. She reigned herself in, with effort, and said with exaggerated calm, Any healer who would give a smart and healthy young thing like you bitters isn’t worth two bits! Now I need you to try. Use your magic, sweetie. You can move things, can’t you?

“Uh, sort of?”

Then move me! Pull me out! You can sense me, right? If you can hear me, then surely you can move me!

The youth’s voice gained a tremor. “I don’t know…”

Please! Scarlet begged. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Her time was nearly done. Her voice frayed as she felt her spirit turning numb.

Please, hon. I need your help. You’re the only one who can help me! The words came slower. They were harder to form.

Everything is getting cold again! When… When it gets cold… It gets harder… to think… and I need… I need…

Scarlet trembled, her soul began to wheel backward, to that familiar abyss. I need to know… Wh-What is—

What is... that curious... taste?

Everything fell away. She felt nothing. Her eternal question bounced around in her head, over and over.

What is that curious taste?

What is that—

An intense tingling—verging on painful, rippled through her. Scarlet gasped, her eyes snapping wide in the dark.

Wha—?!

She stretched. Pulled. Hollered as she felt her spirit stream through an impossibly small passage.

It hurt. Like hundreds of little needles shredding into her while some cruel foal stretched her like a nasty piece of gum.

But with the pain blossomed color. That meant… light? And in the light: shapes.

At first she could make sense of none of it. Then recognition came to her, bit by bit.

She wasn’t in the dark anymore! The abyss was gone!

That thing over there was a couch. An ugly couch—green with orange dots. She saw a stained coffee table, a sagging bookshelf, a peeling white door. Oh! And that bright rectangle was a window—and it was day! She could see green things. Grass. Trees. Bushes. A blue sky, too.

But the most important thing wasn’t out there. It was in here. With her.

Scarlet blinked, her eyes fixing on the little filly sitting on the shaggy blue carpet. She was small for a foal, with lavender fur, orange eyes, orange mane and tail, and a stumpy little horn. Scarlet blinked at this last detail. Was it just her, or did the horn look… crooked?

“Hello,” Scarlet said. Her voice was wispy. She was still in shock.

The filly didn’t answer, her eyes large.

Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her brow tensing with worry. She reached toward the little unicorn. “What’s wrong—?”

Then she saw her limb, silver and see-through, an odd smoke trailing from her hoof.

Newly freed ghosts never seemed to understand that they were dead. It was always a surprise to them. It was no less a surprise for Scarlet.

She’d convinced herself, in those frantic moments of hot consciousness, that she’d been cursed somehow. That she was just stuck and she only needed to be pulled free from her prison. She’d only been partially aware of time’s passing. Certainly, she’d known she’d been trapped a long time. But dead, too…?

Scarlet looked down at herself slowly, her head craning as she realized with growing horror that everything about her was colorless and see-through.

Her beautiful merigold coat! Her lovely manicured hooves! Who had done this to her?

For heaven sakes, she was floating!

Scarlet inhaled to scream—only to realize with great alarm that she hadn’t been breathing this whole time.

Her hooves curled toward her face as she shrieked, the room filling with fog. Light crackled inside her as her curly mane whipped with a sudden wind.

The filly screamed too, her hooves covering her head. The window rattled, books fell from the bookcase, papers cycloned in the air—

Then a bright light flashed and filled the room, and Scarlet was startled into silence, the fog of her despair receding enough to allow her the sight of the young foal. Her little body was hovering in the air, her eyes glowing white…

Scarlet, terrified, fled back to the teapot, her soul acting on instinct as her form shrank and swirled, streaming in through the spout and out of sight.

In the years that followed, she could never bring herself to admit that the first power she’d learned as a ghost was brought on out of fear of a foal.

That day, the filly—Eerie Lantern was her name—had earned her cutie mark, revealing her destiny with the dead.

Too bad no one understood it then, the filly included.

Eerie’s hysteria about the “pretty mare in the silk dress” who erupted from her family’s teapot had only earned her another round of bitters. Even the milestone of earning her mark did not save her. If anything, her mother grumbled at its mysterious appearance, wondering if it had to do with “being crazy.”

To her one credit, Eerie’s mother kept the teapot.

Scarlet, meanwhile, had been freed from her prison… to a point.

She could never stray too far from the teapot, like an invisible rope was tied around her soul. But whereas before she’d been locked deep inside it, she could now emerge of her own free will.

As the days passed, Scarlet came to a kind of acceptance of what she was.

Dead.

A ghost.

That wasn’t to say she was happy or at peace with it, but Oranges rarely allowed themselves the luxury of denying what was plainly seen.

No, what was harder was that even free of the teapot’s ceramic, still no one could see her.

Except Eerie. Eerie had seen her. But damn those bitters, they were clouding her supernatural sight!

Scarlet stayed close to the filly, her savior, whenever the youth was home. She watched, saddened to see the dull look in Eerie’s eyes as the “medicine” was forced upon her. She raged on the day when three colts taunted the filly outside of her home after school.

“Dreary Eerie, why ya look so teary?” They sang, over and over, their nasty voices rife with laughter.

Even under the pall of the bitters, Eerie’s ears drooped, her eyes filling with tears as she watched them from her weedy front lawn.

“Hooligans!” Scarlet spat. She gnashed her teeth, her eyes narrowing as crimson light crackled in her smoky form.

She was a ghost, wasn’t she? If anypony deserved to be terrorized, it was these awful colts!

She drifted to the run-down fence, her hooves on her hips. Then with a deep intake of breath, she screamed as loud and as hard as she could.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!”

She felt a veil tear, like her intent was a knife and it was cutting through, inch by inch.

Before, she could not make sound. Now, her soul could manipulate the air to create it.

The wind rippled. It carried her scream, but lessened, like a thin whisper.

It was enough.

The colts broke off their singing, their ears perking up.

“D-Did you hear that?” one asked, his head craning around for the source of the sound.

Another nodded, his eyes wide. “I did! It sounded like a mare’s voice…”

“‘L-Leave her alone!’ That’s what it said!” the third squeaked.

The colts looked at Eerie, who gazed back at them, bemused.

“Let’s get out of here!” the first colt shouted. He took off at a gallop, down the road.

“H-Hey, wait for us!”

The remaining colts cast one last fearful look at Eerie before following their friend.

A curling smile spread across Scarlet’s muzzle. She looked back at Eerie, preening with victory, but stopped short.

The filly hadn’t moved. Tears still streamed down her face. Then her expression started to gradually change to an ugly scowl, like a slow storm cloud was drifting over her young features. Her ears went flat. Her tail lashed. With a low grunt, she whipped around and stomped back to her shabby home.

Scarlet’s ears drooped.

Perhaps of all she had seen, the most difficult thing to witness was Eerie’s withering faith in ponykind.

More days passed.

Then the doctor had finally said enough.

Scarlet waited impatiently for the last of the bitters to leave Eerie’s system. She sensed more than saw the filly’s mind open once more to the unseen.

She hid in her teapot and devised a plan.

Then one morning, when she thought Eerie was free of the ‘medicine’, she put that plan into action.

“Eerie Lantern?” Scarlet’s voice squeaked from the teapot spout. “It’s me again. The mare from the teapot.” She paused. “My name is Scarlet Orange.”

Scarlet’s ears wiggled at the sound of a spoon clattering to the floor. She peeked from the spout.

Eerie was sitting at the kitchen table, her jaw slack and dripping with milk and cereal. Scarlet winced. She’d interrupted breakfast.

She closed her eyes and steeled her nerves. Nothing for it now! We’re in this to the end. After all, we’re an Orange! And Oranges don’t do anything by half!

“Eerie,” Scarlet tried again. “You’re spilling your breakfast, hon.”

The filly ignored the warning in favor of asking: “Wh-Why am I hearing you again? The doctor said—”

“Now what did I say about that doctor?” Scarlet interjected firmly.

Eerie swallowed. “Th-That any doctor who g-gave a smart and healthy filly bitters wasn’t worth… w-wasn’t worth—”

“Two bits,” Scarlet finished. She smiled. The filly was scared, but she still had some wits about her. She could work with this. “Eerie, you got your cutie mark the day you met me. Do you remember?”

She peeked from the spout again as the filly slouched in her seat, her ears pinning.

“I remember,” Eerie said. She craned her head to look at her little flank. “It’s a jack-o-lantern.” She straightened again, her muzzle wrinkled. “I don’t know what it means.”

Scarlet took a breath—more from habit than necessity—and then spoke slowly: “Eerie… Did you know that in some parts of the world, jack-o-lanterns represent lost spirits?”

One of Eerie’s ears perked, her orange eyes beholding the teapot with wonder. “No! I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, it’s true!” Scarlet nodded without thinking, her curls bobbing over her neck and shoulders. “The light shining through the carved faces was said to be souls, trapped in the mortal realm, unable to move on.”

Eerie’s head tilted to the side, her orange eyes batting. “So what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, you see, Eerie…” Scarlet allowed herself to slowly emerge, a small wispy cloud of smoke that steadily grew. “I was a lost spirit. I suppose I still am…”

Eerie pressed back into her seat, her face lengthening. Scarlet hastened her exit from the teapot so that her upper body materialized faster. Looking back, a slow entrance had perhaps been ill-advised.

Scarlet held her hooves up, her brow wrinkling as she tried to look as non-threatening as possible.

“You saved me, Eerie! When nopony else even heard my cries, you pulled me free from my prison and a wretched afterlife!” She pressed her hooves together and hovered low to the ground, her smoky form leaving a small anxious fog about her—she always seemed to get less corporeal when she was upset, Tartarus take her new form!

Eerie, meanwhile, was frozen on her seat, her slack face still.

Scarlet pressed on, stumbling over her words despite her vast skills in oration—there was a lot riding on this moment, after all! She could be forgiven for being a little tongue-tied! “Eerie, p-please don’t be frightened! I— I won’t hurt you! In fact, I want to help you. Y-You see, I think your destiny lies in helping other spirits like myself! Spirits trapped in places, stuck living a fractured afterlife!”

She drifted just a little closer. “But Eerie this is most important— you mustn’t tell others you can see me! Indeed, you can’t speak of any ghost! At least, not until you’re older, and nopony can force you to take those awful bitters again!” Scarlet scowled. “Your silly mother and that fool-headed doctor have no idea they are robbing you of your one greatest talent!”

“Seeing dead ponies?” Eerie squeaked reedily.

Scarlet winced and circled a hoof through the air. “Er, well dead creatures. I’d be very surprised if you could only see dead ponies!”

Eerie scratched at the base of her horn. “That doesn’t make me feel better!” She whined. “I—I think I’m going to throw up!”

Scarlet motioned placatingly with her hooves, her translucent face contorting in alarm. “Now, now, pumpkin! Don’t you worry! I wouldn’t let you go through this alone, not for all the bits in the world! Not after you saved me!” She touched a hoof to her chest. “I’ll stay by your side!”

One of Eerie’s ears flicked. She looked at Scarlet skeptically. “Really? Don’t you have to, like, go to the Elysian Fields or something?”

Scarlet threw her head back and laughed. “Oh! Hon, now wouldn’t that be something…” She chuckled and shook her head. “Sweetie, I ain’t ready to say goodbye to this beautiful world yet. And so long as you need me, I think I’ll have plenty of reasons to stay.”

Eerie gazed at Scarlet quietly. The ghostly mare gazed back, a pleasant smile on her face.

“You won’t hurt me?” The foal’s voice was tinny. Fragile.

Knowing.

Like she’d been hurt—and not in the taunting way of bullish colts, but in the real way. Some unspeakable way.

Scarlet’s undead heart twisted with suffering. Such a young thing should be happy and carefree! How could this little filly be so world-weary when she’s barely earned her cutie mark?

“I won’t hurt you,” Scarlet said. She touched her hooves to her chest. “You are a friend to me, and I fight for my friends! I won’t let anything hurt you, Eerie Lantern!”

“S-So you’ll help me, then?” Eerie asked. She leaned forward just a tad, her gaze searching.

Scarlet nodded, a smile blooming wide on her face. “As best I can.”

Eerie’s eyes fluttered and she looked down in thought. “And…” She looked up again, her eyes suddenly fierce and bright. “And you promise you won’t leave me alone?”

Even then, Scarlet found the question odd. She’d chalked it up to foalish fears. Years later, the words would haunt her deeper than any of the ghosts they’d later encounter.

“I won’t leave you, pumpkin. Not willingly. I promise. But!” Scarlet pointed at the teapot, where a slim trail of her smoke could still be seen coming from the spout. “You must keep my teapot safe! And if you want me near you, then you need to find ways to take it with you.”

Scarlet sighed and turned over a helpless hoof. “I’m sorry to say that one of the first things I’ve learned about this afterlife is that a ghost cannot go far from its place of haunting. Believe me, I’ve tried. About as far as I can get with the teapot here in the kitchen is to your front fence!” Considering how small Eerie and her mother’s impoverished home was, this was not much. A little under thirty feet radius, really.

Eerie looked at the teapot to Scarlet and back. “What happens if your teapot breaks?”

Scarlet shuddered, her eyes snapping wide. “Let’s not find out!” She gestured at it. “As far as I can tell, my soul is attached to it! If it is destroyed… It’s possible I could disappear!”

“To where?”

“Who knows!”

Eerie slid from her chair and slowly clopped to where she stood in front of Scarlet. She looked up at the ghost studiously. Milk still dripped from her muzzle from her earlier spill. She turned her head back toward the living room, her ears swiveling as if trying to hear for incoming sounds. Then Eerie looked back at Scarlet, her eyes shining.

“I think I know where another trapped ghost is!” she whispered with an air of conspiracy. A little smile was on her lips.

Scarlet let out a little sigh, her soul pulsing with relief.

Perhaps this afterlife would amount to something after all.

Years later, Scarlet guessed it added up to a raging dumpster fire.

“Fuck, fuck, where is it?!” Eerie panted as she ran from one side of her tiny cottage to the other. It was a quick trip.

If Eerie’s childhood home had been small, this shack was even smaller. You could take ten long steps, starting from the bedroom, and make it through the living room, bathroom, and kitchen/dining room. Probably with steps to spare.

Scarlet watched from the kitchen counter with hoof in cheek as her eyes ticked back and forth like she were at a tennis match.

“Eerie,” she said, trying for the umpteenth time to curb her friend’s panic.

The dreaded lunch date was upon them. Eerie had barely slept at all, though one would never guess with the amount of energy she was displaying. The clock on the wall said it was eleven-thirty.

“I need that cold iron, Scarlet. Where the hell is it?” Eerie ripped open the closet door, only to get buried under an avalanche of true crime books. Again.

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “For the last time, I have no idea what you did with that silly trinket. If you want my opinion—”

Eerie popped out of the pile, a book on her head. “I don’t!”

“The cold iron chain is a load of hooey,” Scarlet finished with a stubborn scowl. “I do wish you would stop buying such superstitious nonsense from the backpage of every rag you read.”

“It came with a warranty,” Eerie snapped. She shook the book off her head and rose from the pile, her hooves kicking free. She stepped over the mess to stick her head in the narrow closet. “It’s supposed to render any attack spells against me useless! If it doesn’t work, I get my money back!”

Scarlet snorted. “Pumpkin, no offense, but the day you test that chain out is the day you and me can finally see who is the most see-through!”

Eerie’s ears pinned, her body going still. “Shit, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“There’s lots of things you haven’t thought of, Eerie.” Scarlet gestured with disgust at the trashed living room. Well... living/dining/bathroom. A cottage this small lacked proper walls. Even the tub and toilet only had a mere curtain for privacy. “Like how you’ve made such a wonderful mess again, and your guests are due to arrive here shortly!”

“Fuck them!” Eerie snarled with a stomp of her hoof. “I didn’t want them to come anyway!”

Scarlet glared, her forelegs crossing.

Eerie glanced at her, then groaned. “I know, I know! I’m sorry. I curse when I’m upset!” She scratched at her horn.

“Your excuses get more and more tiresome as the years wear on,” Scarlet said primly. “Some habits just need letting go!” She cleared her throat pointedly.

Eerie glowered and stopped scratching. “Have you found Thelk, Stix, and Dew Dream yet?”

Scarlet’s lips thinned. These were some of the other resident ghosts at Chateau Lantern. Over the years, she and Eerie had found many haunted objects and places with trapped ghosts. Most were quick to move on upon being released from their prisons. Others though…

“I’m here!” cheered a little voice. The two mares turned to see a small unicorn colt rise up from the quilted blanket draped over the back of the couch. He was slim, with a cutie mark of two rearing dogs on his flanks. “Can I help?”

“No,” Eerie said flatly, turning away. “You’re too cute, Mister D. I need scary.”

The colt pouted, his frizzy mane slipping forth to cover one eye. “Oh… O-Okay.” He kicked a hoof through the air. “I mean, I could be scary if I wanted to…” He pushed his lips out in a pout.

Scarlet tutted and waved a hoof. “Oh don’t mind Eerie, Mister. She’s just in a tizzy over some guests she’s having today.”

Mister—that was, Mister Double—brightened at this. His little body floated to be by Scarlet, his cropped puffball-of-a-tail swishing. “Guests? But I thought Eerie was afraid of the living!”

“I don’t trust them!” Eerie said with a sharp look. She was returning the books to the closet in sloppy stacks with her hooves. She avoided using magic when she could. “One of them is a unicorn! They could hex me and take all of my stuff!”

Scarlet snorted and swept a hoof over the books strewn across the floor. “Oh yes, like your treasured book collection! We wouldn’t want them carting off with… ” She leaned forward, eyes squinting. “‘Saddle Arabian Stabs: The Stabbening in the Sands.’”

Eerie puckered her lips. “Titles were not the author’s strong suit, okay? That book had a lot of good info!” She sighed and glared at the mess at her hooves. “I need a bookcase.”

Scarlet and Mister looked around them. From the front door to the kitchen, there was a careful firelane maintained amidst a sea of trinkets and keepsakes—past haunts for ghosts Eerie had released.

“Where would you put it?” the ghostcolt asked with a droopy ear.

Eerie’s jaw slanted to the side as she gathered a new stack of books. “Mister, what have I said about being a pain in the—” Then her ears perked, and she looked at him. “Actually, you know how you could help?”

Mister flashed forward, a roiling stream of smoke, before rematerializing in front of Eerie. His eyes shone with stars of excitement. “Ooh, how? How?”

Eerie pointed across to the closed bedroom door. “Go to my room and look for a loop of chain for me.”

Mister saluted, a broad smile on his narrow face. “I’m on it!” Then with a pop, he streamed toward the bedroom and through the door, smoke still curling from the point he vanished.

Eerie hollered after him: “And find Thelk, would you?! He’s been hibernating, and somepony refuses to find his dagger.” She stuck her tongue out at Scarlet.

The ghostmare wagged a hoof, her ears pinning, “Now see here, missy! I really must protest you involving that sweet colt—”

“Ah, ah, ah! Is the uptight belle trying to stop something fun from happening?” A velvety voice could be heard saying from outside the kitchen window.

Scarlet’s jaw tensed as she glared in the direction of the voice. “Don’t you dare, Stix—!”

Within the next second, a shadowy form stepped through the north wall, dark and blustery, before it coalesced into the lithe form of a tall Abyssinian with a slick pompadour, and a dark jacket with zipper pockets. Even in his ghostly form, it was clear that in life he’d had dark fur, with light splashes on his face, paws, and tail tip.

Stix. The bane of Scarlet’s undead existence. Of all the ghosts to stick around, they had to find the most insufferable cat burglar to haunt their backyard. His haunting was an axe, which Scarlet had insisted be kept outside in the shed.

Sadly, his spirit could still reach most of the house. It always galled Scarlet how he was able to travel further from his haunting than she could.

Stix twirled a whisker and winked a slitted eye at her. “Don’t I dare what, doll?”

“Oh go back to rusting that axe, you filthy cat!” Scarlet bit at him. “The last thing Eerie needs is you exacerbating the problem!”

“Exacerbate?” Eerie was looking at Stix with wide eyes. “No… No way! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Because whatever it is no doubt is a terrible idea!” Scarlet cried, flying in front of Stix with an expression of horror. “Eerie, you aren’t thinking straight. You’ve barely slept—!”

Eerie walked right through Scarlet, making the ghostmare gasp. “Rude!”

“Stix!” Eerie said, her eyes trained on the smirking Abyssinian. “Hey, you’re really good at teleporting, right?”

He chuckled, examining his claws at arms length. “Oh, you know it, babycakes!”

Eerie trotted on the spot. “When I give you a signal, can you knock stuff over around the house to scare some mares that are visiting me today?! I want them so scared, they tell everypony to leave me the hell alone!” She gestured at Scarlet. “So far, the only help I have is Scarlet, and all she can do is howl—”

“For the last time, I do not howl!”

“—And I can’t risk her being in the same room, because apparently one of the mares can kinda sense ghosts.”

Eerie paced on the spot, her expression contorting with another rise in anxiety. “I can’t find Thelk or Dew Dream, and Mister Double wouldn’t be any help because everything he does is adorable!”

“I’m telling you, I can be scary if I want to!” Mister yelled from the bedroom.

Eerie looked at Stix with bright eyes. “But you might be able to move fast enough that the unicorn wouldn’t sense you! She won’t be scared unless she doesn’t see it coming, and you’re my best bet for that!”

Scarlet pressed a hoof to her forehead. There were days she swore she could feel a headache again. “Eerie, please don’t involve that crook. You know he always ends up asking—”

“For his fair due,” Stix finished with a flashing look at Scarlet. To Eerie, he purred, “My little pony, I’d be more than happy to assist with whatever you need…” He steepled his fingers. “But you know my usual price!”

Eerie sighed, her ears drooping. “One whole day?” she mumbled.

Stix gave her a fanged smile. “One… whole… day.” He looked up innocently. “Though, it’s been a while since you’ve let me possess you… Perhaps, mmm…” He looked at her again and winked, his smile morphing to a smirk. “Two whole days instead?”

“That is ridiculous!” Scarlet spat. “Not to mention dangerous. Your spirits could meld together!” They’d seen it happen. Once. It hadn’t been pretty.

Stix pouted, his tail lashing once behind him. “It doesn’t have to be consecutively. We can space the days apart!”

Eerie sat, one hoof rubbing her chin. “Hmm…”

Scarlet drifted to the unicorn’s side, her hooves pressing together anxiously. “Eerie Lantern, now you listen to me… I am telling you this isn’t worth it! Remember the last time Stix possessed you?”

The cat blew a raspberry behind her. “Whaaat? She had fun!”

Scarlet shot him a glare before saying to Eerie: “He spent all your bits! Not to mention you were hungover for days!” And then, because she couldn’t contain her ire, she muttered, “Honestly! I don’t know why you don’t just get rid of him!”

It was a critical mistake.

Eerie’s gaze darkened. “I don’t shatter spirits,” she said through tight lips. Her voice had gone flat, but shaky, like something was fighting to make itself heard.

Scarlet’s face paled. She hadn’t meant to open this wound. It had just been a slip of the tongue! “Eerie—! N-No, pumpkin, that’s not what I meant—!”

Eerie looked at Stix, her ears perked. “All right. You can have two days, but they can’t be consecutive.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m hiding my bits from you! Got it?”

Stix purred, his arms crossing. “I got it.” He looked at Scarlet, one brow arching as a cheshire grin spread across his furry face. “Leave it all to your ol’ pal, Stix…”

Scarlet sagged, her form dimming. She looked at the clock. Eleven-forty-five…

Voices from the past swirled in her smoke, leaving her weak with guilt.

“S-So you’ll help me, then?”

“As best I can.”

“And… And you promise you won’t leave me alone?”

Scarlet Orange sighed. She had failed Eerie before. Never again.

“Eerie, when do you want me to start my performance?” she asked quietly.

Eerie looked at her. Her gaze was softer now. She smiled. “I knew I could count on you, Scarlet.”

Author's Note

For anyone interested, I did an audio reading of the first half of this chapter. If you want more, lemme know.

The Sisters Who Believed The Unbelievable

“Sunshine, please don’t, like, get all shiny when you meet her, ‘kay?” Moonlight Raven leveled her sister with a stare so piercing it rivaled the sharpest swords of the Royal Guard.

As usual, it glanced off of Sunshine Smile’s impenetrable cheer.

“Ravey, I’m just soooooo happy for you!” Sunshine hopped a few times, her sun-bleached hair gleaming a little in the sun. “This is totally the most bitchin’ thing that’s ever happened since, like… ever!” She giggled and quickly nuzzled her sister. “My lil’ sister is making a friend!”

Moonlight groaned softly, her eyes turning up at the sky as she gently pushed Sunshine away. “You’re only older by one minute.”

“Still the older one!” Sunshine sing-songed.

Moonlight groaned again. Louder.

She wasn’t trying to be a jerk. But her sister could get a little much… and quite frankly, Sunshine knew this, too. She just needed pointed reminders not to let her sunny exuberance blind everyone in the vicinity.

They were on their way to Eerie Lantern’s house. Sunshine was smiling so brightly and so much, the after-image of the white gleam of the other mare's teeth burned in Moonlight’s retinas whenever she closed her eyes. Hovering next to the blonde in a soft pink glow was a tray of her signature spinach and cream cheese sandwiches.

Hovering by Moonlight in her dark blue aura was a covered pitcher of fresh lemonade. She kept eyeing it, wondering if she’d done a good enough job of keeping the seeds out.

Moonlight was, in fact, nervous. Her face didn’t show it— rarely did her features betray more than a slight tilt toward irritation or interest. But there was an actual sheen of sweat to her coat, and more than once she wondered if she hadn’t already ruined her chances of being Eerie’s friend.

She wasn’t a fool. She could recognize an anti-social pony when she saw one. Moonlight herself was anti-social. She didn’t know how to talk to other ponies and endear herself to them, and honestly she didn’t care to. Most ponies were dull and annoying anyway. It’s why she had a night job. This “lunch” was actually going to be her dinner.

Moonlight also didn’t know the finer points of etiquette or boundaries. It hadn’t even occurred to her that inviting her and her sister over for lunch to a pony’s house they’d never been to was a faux pas till after Sunshine mentioned it to her.

“Oh, b-but if she didn’t tell you no, then I guess it’s fine!” Sunshine blurted at Moonlight’s crestfallen stare.

It was easy to be this socially clueless when you lived on the outskirts all your life. Moonlight wrestled with things nopony else even knew existed. Being alone just seemed natural. Other ponies… they were just distractions from the truth.

The truth of what was really out there.

Another existence, unseen by any creature.

Moonlight’s pursuit of the hidden went back as far as she could remember. It had started simple.

It started with her love of the dark.

She liked the dark’s dense secrets and pure embrace. It came to the world effortlessly. After all, life sprang from the darkness. The stars and the elements they catapulted into the universe came from an inky mass— or so some ponies theorized.

All Moonlight knew was that the light struggled to hold onto its territory, even at the height of the day. But darkness? Darkness sprang up around the roots of existence like it was meant to be there.

Moonlight wished she could be so certain of where she was meant to be.

She worked nights, more from preference than necessity. She was well aware of how this choice left her poor for opportunities to meet other ponies, but…

The daytime wasn’t for her. That was her sister’s world.

She loved Sunshine Smiles. It didn't matter that they didn't always understand each other. What two sisters did? Celestia sent Luna to the moon once, didn’t she?

What really mattered to her was that Sunshine tried. She tried to understand.

And Moonlight felt a little guilty that she didn't always make the effort easy. Since they were foals, she took the cryptic ways of night to heart. Her gaze had always been turned elsewhere, to the underbelly of the world where the shadows lurked.

While other foals were getting excited over flowers and cute puppies, she was busy shoving dead birds into her saddlebags.

She never killed anything. She just… had a weird knack for finding dead things.

When she magic-scanned the animal corpses she took home (usually in secret, because her parents had a fit every time they caught her—and ugh, she was sick ofthe shrink visits!) she’d always get a little… feedback on her horn.

A small taste of fear.

Of aged exhaustion.

Of oblivious contentment.

But she never got more than that. Years later, she would guess that something about animal souls just lacked the power needed to give her a stronger echo of their last moments.

When she got her mortician’s license, Moonlight found access to much more potent material.

Becoming a mortician’s assistant had been a great relief to her parents. Their daughter wasn’t a serial killer! Oh, what a relief!

She supposed it was due to her fairly immovable features that they felt no qualms saying this right in front of her.

Ponies did that all the time. Just… spoke their minds to her without restraint.

Other times they walked away from her while she was in the middle of saying something to them, completely oblivious (or uncaring) of her words.

They must have thought she had such thick skin—and she guessed she did. It was a rare day when she cried or got angry. She just didn’t see the point in wasting her life force on such temporary inconveniences. There was something infinite out there, and she wanted her spirit strong for the beyond.

Eastern ponies had the right idea. Every action drained you. They called the life force, chi. Moonlight was very conservative with her chi.

So today was momentous. She was devoting quite a bit of her spiritual power to befriending Eerie, the only pony aside from Sunshine who understood, in the realest sense, that there was life after death.

Ghosts.

Yes, Sunshine knew. For years, now.

Moonlight looked at her sister sidelong, one eyebrow quirking.

Sunshine knew because she had the annoying tendency of allowing herself to be possessed.

The first time it had happened was when they were young adolescents, nearly done with school. Sunshine had gone with Moonlight to an antique store in Canterlot. It was all so normal until…

Moonlight sensed a presence.

The young filly’s head lifted, her sleek ears pivoting this way and that as if she could hear it too.

It wasn’t like the sensations she felt from the animal corpses she scanned. No. This was… vibrant. Ever changing.

She stared up into the air over a rack of old hats, her pupils dilating with excitement. She’d never felt something this strong before! Moonlight was picking up all kinds of things—curiosity, excitement, hunger—

She reared back, her eyes fluttering.

Hunger? Real hunger! This wasn’t an echo of a past life, it was a present need that made her body tingle and her mouth salivate.

But… how?

Then the energy started to move.

Moonlight’s heart skipped a beat, and perhaps for the first time in her life she felt fear seize her heart.

This isn’t right! This is—!

She didn’t get a chance to finish her thought. The energy blew straight past her, like a cold mist streaming with the wind, and it went straight for—

Her eyes widened. “Sunshine!” she yelled—another rare thing for her. But this afternoon was quickly shaping up to be just that kind of day.

Sunshine Smiles barely looked up from her examination of a doll house before the energy struck her.

Moonlight’s ears pinned and she galloped to her sister, ignoring the clerk’s irritable reminder not to run in the store. Her horn lit up as she cast a frantic scan over her sister. She felt her insides chill as she realized…

The foreign energy was masking her sister’s spirit.

Oh, Sunshine was still in there. But she was buried—lost under whatever or whoever this was.

Then Moonlight Raven watched, bewildered, as her sister began to speak.

“I say!” Sunshine exclaimed gruffly. “This filly is dreadfully saccharine. She could do with a long sit with Pollstoy, eh wot?” She laughed, a stuffy and controlled laugh, before licking her lips ponderously and looking around. “Now where the devil is that thing… ah!”

Sunshine’s eyes lit up as she trotted over to the hat rack. Her horn glowed and she levitated a dusty old top hat from the top rung to her head. It was entirely too big for her and slid off to the side, swallowing one of her ears as the brim sat awkwardly against her horn. She appeared undeterred however as she went to pay the clerk.

Moonlight ambled up to her slowly, her eyes wide. “Sunny…?”

Sunshine didn’t turn around as the clerk counted out her change.

Moonlight tried again, louder. “Sunshine?”

Sunshine’s ear flicked in Moonlight’s direction, and finally she turned her head, a nonplussed expression on her face. Her eyes brightened. “Sunny? Sunshine! Ah, yes, of course, that is her name. Apologies.” Sunshine looked back at the clerk and smiled. “Thank you. Good day!”

After placing her bits into her saddlebags, Sunshine looked at her sister with what seemed like an apology. “I’m afraid I will have to commandeer your sibling for a short time, young miss.” She touched her new top hat with a little wince. “After I freed myself of the confines of the hat, I was quite disheartened to find the only sort of existence that awaited me was watching the world pass me by.”

Then Sunshine brightened again. “But your sweet sister has quite the open spirit! It was practically a vortex, pulling me in!” She reared back on her hind legs and spread her forelegs. “And now I may finally leave this place!” When Sunshine returned to standing on all hooves, she winked and started for the door. “And I know just what it is I must do!”

Moonlight watched, open-mouthed, as her sister (No, it’s not my sister!) marched right out of the door. Quickly, she followed.

Not-Sunshine led Moonlight through Canterlot, straight through all the familiar places they knew until they were trotting in strange new streets where only the most elite could be found. The two young fillies earned many stares, for it was getting to late evening on a school night—no doubt their parents were wondering where they were.

“S’cuuuse meeee?” Moonlight called to Not-Sunshine. “Like, where are we going? I need to take my sister back home before my parents search my room!”

Which would no doubt lead to them discovering the dead opossum under her bed...

And animal bones in her desk...

And the altar in her closet draped in animal skins with blood sigils and strong-smelling herbs...

The blood was hers, okay?

...Mostly.

Not-Sunshine laughed jovially, “Ah, but we have arrived!” He/She stopped in front of a little shop. The building looked old, but well-maintained. A woodcut sign swinging over the door read: The Canterlot Hatter.

Moonlight blinked, her mouth wrinkling. “You buy a hat, then march us across the city to… a hat store.” Her lower jaw jutted forward with displeasure. “Cuz that makes sense…”

Not-Sunshine laughed that posh laugh again and only beckoned for Moonlight to follow. The filly sighed and did so. At least they weren’t walking anymore. Her hooves needed a break!

In the store, a young earth stallion with a combed back gray mane and light brown fur examined a ledger behind a counter. He wore wire-frame glasses and a black vest. He looked up briefly as they entered, then his eyes snapped to a grandfather clock at the rear of the store.

The stallion looked at his latest guests with a mild frown. “Evening, young ladies. I’m afraid we don’t have much time before closing. Is there something I can assist you with?”

Not-Sunshine cleared his/her throat, pulled the silk top hat off their head, and asked in a voice that was closer to Sunshine’s actual way of speaking… except, not really: “Yo! What is uppity-up, gentlecolt?”

Moonlight made a face as she sat near the door. “Ugh, barf me out… just don’t.”

Not-Sunshine peered back at her, one ear drooping. “Hmm… Is that not what you youngsters say?”

“Didn’t get a lot of ‘youngsters’ at the antique store, I take it?”

“Fair point.”

The stallion cleared his throat. “Ah, Ladies…?” They both turned to him. He closed the ledger in front of him with a snap. “Are your parents perhaps close by? It is getting rather late, you know.”

“Yeah. Really… late. Hint, hint,” Moonlight deadpanned.

“Er, yes,” Not-Sunny said. “Quite right.” They took a step toward the desk and raised their muzzle in the air. “Sir, are you perhaps a descendant of Flawless Satin?”

The stallion’s brow arched. “I am… He was my great, great, great grandfather.” He gestured around at the shop. “He’s the one who established my family’s business. Why?”

Not-Sunshine smiled and placed the hat on the desk. “Then please, accept this gift. It was one of his proudest works.”

“Know what else is someone’s proudest work?” Moonlight remarked suddenly. “My sister. To my parents.” She slouched. “Cuz, like, I’m pretty sure I’m adopted.” Her stare turned withering. “Seriously, I can’t go home without her. They’ll think I killed her.”

The others stared at her for a long moment, then slowly regarded one another again.

“Is your friend all right?” the stallion asked in a not-so-quiet whisper.

Not-Sunshine waved a hoof. “Please don’t mind her. She’s in counseling.”

Moonlight frowned. “Rude.” Then she added in a sullen mumble, “My last visit was a month ago...”

The stallion’s eyes tensed in confusion as he looked between the two fillies before him. With an air of uncertainty, he peered over the rim of his glasses at the top hat. “You say this hat is from my ancestor?”

Not-Sunshine nodded eagerly. “Yes! Sadly, it has languished in an antique store for many years. This filly—er, I mean—I have brought this to you, knowing full well you are someone who would appreciate and cherish it.”

The stallion gawked, his glasses sliding down his face. “Pardon my asking, but… who are you?”

“Who am I?” Not-Sunshine’s ears drooped and they looked at Moonlight sharply. “Er, who am I, again?”

“Sunshine Smiles,” Moonlight snapped, her lips pursing.

“Ah! Yes! Of course.” Not-Sunshine looked at the stallion triumphantly. “I am Sunshine Smiles!”

“Uh… huh.” The stallion raised an eyebrow. “The counseling is shared then, I'm assuming?”

Not-Sunshine flattened their ears. “Rude!” Moonlight smirked behind them.

The clerk closed his eyes and took a breath. “Ah. Apologies. You are correct, I was out of line. It’s been a long day.” He held out a hoof. “My name is Lucky Duke.”

They shook hooves. Moonlight groaned and looked at the clock. They weren’t going to make curfew. “Okay, like, you gave the dumb hat. Can I have my sister back now?”

Lucky Duke scowled at her. “I certainly haven’t been trying to keep you!”

Moonlight turned a cool eye on him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The stallion batted his eyes, then gave a shake of his head and turned the hat over. He peered inside it through the lenses at the base of his muzzle. His eyes widened. “My goodness!” He looked at Sunshine, awe pulling his features long. “This… This really is from my great, great, great grandfather! It has his signature stitched into the lining! I know it’s authentic because of this thread! He only ever used mulberry silk dyed in gold!”

“Naturally,” Not-Sunshine said with a wink. They gave a little bow. “I can think of no better place for it.”

Lucky Duke grinned as he pushed his glasses back up his face. “Thank you so much! Is there anyway I can repay you?”

“No, no, old chap. Please. I really must thank you for keeping Flawless Satin’s legacy alive.” Not-Sunshine turned away and walked back toward the door, leaving Lucky Duke to marvel over his latest acquisition.

She/he regarded Moonlight with a friendly expression. “And I must thank you as well,” They came closer and lowered their voice. “I realize this was a terrible inconvenience for you, but I assure you, your sister is fine. I shall release her now.”

Moonlight glowered at them. “It’s not like I knew how to get rid of you…” she muttered.

Not-Sunshine bobbed their head. “I suppose.” They smiled warmly as they brushed past her, out the door. “But you had faith that I was not a malevolent spirit, otherwise you would have fetched a powerful unicorn to oust me.”

Moonlight’s eyes brightened as she followed. “You can do that? Cuz I totally would have done that.”

“I was an earth pony in life, but…” Not-Sunshine paused before the storefront and held up a hoof, both ears perked. “In my time, there were soothsayers who claimed to have the power to banish spirits from the flesh. I’m sure the libraries at the Canterlot School of Magic must contain some whispers of this?” They winked at her. “Might be a good thing to look into, eh wot? Your sister is spiritually vulnerable. There may be… others who are not as kind as I am.”

“Others like you? But what are you?” Moonlight pressed, her gaze growing wider by the second.

Not-Sunshine blinked. “What am I? Silly miss! I’m a ghost! I thought a clever thing like you would have gathered that by now?”

“A ghost…?” Moonlight sat on the paved street, her rump landing hard. “You’re a ghost?” Little stars danced in her eyes, and she wondered if her face would be hitting the street next.

“I believe so, yes.”

Moonlight pointed a shaking hoof behind them. “Are you that stallion’s—?”

“Great, great, great, great grandfather, actually. I am Noble Charm.” Noble sighed, turning Sunshine’s face up towards the burgeoning night sky. “Flawless Satin was my son. I’m afraid I wasn’t very supportive of his efforts in opening a new hat store in what was then a much younger Canterlot, blasted fool that I was.” He closed his eyes. “I was a cad.”

Moonlight stared. She’d always known she was scanning some lingering spiritual energy from the animal corpses she found, but… a ghost? A real live (well, ‘kay, not alive) ghost? Even now, she’d been leaning more towards some sort of strange interdimensional being, not the spirit of a pony long dead.

“So… like… are you gonna ‘move on’ now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She still couldn’t believe it.

There’s life after death!

“Hmm?” Noble looked at her, then chortled. “Oh? What? Heavens, no! I dare say, if I were moving on, I’d imagine something would have happened by now.” He shook Sunshine’s head. “No, my dear… I only wished for a change in scenery. That and to be reunited with my son’s ancestors. I think I shall quite enjoy seeing how his offspring have fared all these years!”

Moonlight’s brow wrinkled and she looked back at the store. “So… the hat?”

“Precisely.” He cleared Sunshine’s throat. “Now… I do believe you and your sister have somewhere to be?”

Moonlight turned back to him, about to ask something else—she wasn’t even sure what. There was an avalanche of questions in her mind about the afterlife, things she was dying to know—and no she would not apologize for the unintended pun—

But just like that, Noble Charm was gone. Back in his place was Sunshine, and Moonlight’s sister looked very sleepy and very confused.

“Ravey… I just had the weirdest dream!” she mumbled. Sunshine swayed on the spot as she looked around, her eyes going wide. “Oooh… How did we get here?” She smiled drunkenly. “Did’jou practice teleporting again?”

Moonlight took a deep breath. With a light bump on the shoulder, she nudged her older sister to walk with her, back the way they had come. “If I tell you what happened, will you freak out?”

“Whaaaat?” a sleepy giggle. “Pssh. Noooo… Why would I freak out?”

Of course Sunshine freaked out.

When her spirit-induced drunkenness wore off, and she realized her dream was being accurately described to her in great detail by somepony who shouldn’t have known anything about it, she lost her mind.

It wasn’t even a moderate freak out, either. It was like the rumored megaspell bomb had dropped on their sleepy little house, destroying any peace it held. Sunshine put the screams of the best horror productions to shame. Ponies three streets over would be talking about the meltdown for days.

Their parents assumed Moonlight had hexed her sister, and thus, grounded her. More shrink visits were scheduled.

But Moonlight bore through the injustice, and the screeching, and even being roped into her sister’s panicked hoodoo bath cleanse— because Sunny needed to know. Knowledge was power, right? Even if that knowledge came reeking of hyssop.

Except once Sunshine came to terms with what happened, she almost invited it to happen again.

Sunny had always been a very happy-go-lucky pony, and she delighted in trying new things. Like Moonlight, she believed in things not taught at magic school— like chi, and karma, and—

“Positive thinking, Ravey!” Sunshine practically sang in the present. “Just totes believe that this mare will understand us and want to be our friend!”

Moonlight’s ears actually flattened. Briefly.

‘Our’ friend? She was only bringing Sunshine along so she would quit hounding her about meeting new ponies! Did her sister even realize who they were meeting?

Moonlight rolled her eyes, her lip pouting a little. Get real. Sunshine always had to have hooves in what we did. Then her mouth tilted up in the tiniest of wicked grins. Not the dead animals, though.

Actually, there was that time Sunny had stepped in what was left of a run over frog…

Her grin widened.

They were almost there. The road had ceased to be paved ages ago, practically just a trodden path now as they left the intercity railroad behind them. They were approaching the river, and just ahead was the pumpkin patch Eerie tended during the summer and autumn months. Green vines wreathed over the dirt in chaotic lines, the small wooden stand by the road empty, save for a messily painted sign that simply read, Pumpkins.

Moonlight recalled coming here last autumn, when Eerie Lantern’s popular pumpkin patch was open. It was the one time of the year Eerie interacted with anypony…

If hiding under the counter and squealing fearfully about thieves was considered ‘interacting’.

It wasn’t until the last Nightmare Night that Moonlight even got a glimpse of Eerie, and that had been at a great distance, when the lavender mare made a beeline for her home at day’s end.

Further along the path lay the modest woods at the base of Foal Mountain, where the home in question lay in wait.

Moonlight’s withers tightened.

Would she commit another faux pas? What would she talk about? Could she bring up ghosts right away, or did she need to talk about… like… the weather first?

She was pretty sure she’d rather undergo a live autopsy than suffer small talk.

Sunshine jumped and twirled in the air with a happy cheer. “I bet she has all kinds of neat tricks for gardening! I can’t wait to pick her brain!”

For a harrowing moment, Moonlight imagined her sister on the autopsy table instead.

They were going into the woods now.

Through the tree line, a squat home became visible, small and sad in its modesty. But, as they neared, some things became clear.

Despite its weather-worn, mossy wood, and wild front lawn, the small dwelling had bright and healthy flowers hanging from planters along its sides, and the dirt path to the door was inlaid with flagstones that were swept clean of debris.

“Wow! What a cute house! I never would have thought someone lived in these woods,” Sunshine said as they approached the front door.

“Just, like, remember what I said, all right?” Moonlight replied.

Sunshine glanced at her sister curiously as she knocked on the door. “About what?”

There was a loud clatter inside. Then in the next moment, the door opened just a crack, a surprising number of security chains clear on the other side.

Eerie Lantern’s wide orange eye peered through, her pupil looking dilated.

Sunshine pressed in close with a smile. “Hiyeee! I’m Sunshine Smiles, Moonlight’s sister! Nice to meet—!”

The door slammed shut. It only took a moment to realize the chains weren’t coming off.

Sunshine sat hard, blinking at the door.

“About being too shiny,” Moonlight spat.

Her sister chuckled nervously. “W-Well, maybe we can—?”

The pair jumped as the door rattled, the sharp sound of grinding metal piercing through the wood all at once. Then the doorknob turned, and the door swung inward, hinges creaking.

No one was on the other side.

The sisters exchanged looks.

“Still wanna talk about gardening?” Moonlight asked with a small smirk.

Author's Note

The (Un)Expectedly Doomed Lunch Date

Eerie had just managed to find the cold chain charm, which she wore as a kind of crude necklace, when she heard a knock at the door. She jumped almost to the ceiling, knocking over a pile of trinkets. When she landed again, with back arched like a startled cat, she stared at the door wild-eyed.

She hoped it had just been a bird or something. Birds flew into doors, right? Or were those windows? Maybe she was lucky and it was a stupid bird.

But she needed to check. She didn’t want to, but she needed to. After all, it was a common practice of burglars to first knock on doors to see if anyone was home. Empty houses were appealing targets. Thus, answering the door would dissuade any potential hoodlums from invading. It was a practical safety habit, but it was a deeply unpleasant one for her, seldom as visitors were.

The fact that she was expecting guests was only a secondary reason for this latest bothersome task.

She had some faith in the various locks and chains she kept on her front door at all times. Eerie didn’t undo any of these, but instead, opened the door a cautious crack and peered out. Then—

“Hiyeee! I’m Sunshine Smiles, Moonlight’s sister! Nice to meet—!”

Eerie slammed the door shut, reeling back in abject terror.

That eye! Oh, that fucking sparkly eye!

It was bad enough on its own, making Eerie feel like her blood sugar count had quadrupled from a cupcake binger, but in the fraction of a second when she’d gazed into that saccharine abyss, she was certain she could feel the tug of some terribly cheery tune calling her name. The phantom melody, full of pep and cheer, floated through her head like gleeful miasma. Her hooves tickled to the imagined beat, and Eerie scraped them against the creaky floor in a panic, trying to rid herself of the temptation.

It was awful. Terrible!

She could actually feel a song coming on!

“No, no, no, no, no—” Eerie whispered frantically as she galloped for her bedroom. The cold chain bounced sharply against her chest. She dove under her bed and covered her eyes with her hooves. “No! Just no!”

“Eerie Lantern, you let those mares in!” Scarlet Orange hissed suddenly into her ear.

Eerie lifted a hoof to see Scarlet glaring at her, upside down, through the underside of her bed’s mattress. Where her form vanished, smoky essence drifted along the fabric.

“Scarlet, this was a terrible idea. Why didn’t you talk me out of it??” Eerie whined.

Scarlet’s mouth wrenched open with insult and her ears went flat.

“I tried!” She finally managed to sputter out.“I don’t want you scaring these poor ponies, but the fact of the matter is, they’re here now, and even I can’t ignore this opportunity you have to make real, living friends.”

Scarlet shooed Eerie with a smoky hoof. “Now you get out there, this instant! You mustn’t keep them waiting! It’s rude!”

“I don’t care about being rude,” Eerie hissed, her own ears going flat. Her tail swept the floor in broad angry strokes. “I was coerced. This shouldn’t be happening!”

Scarlet sighed, her eyes narrowing. “Eerie, you’re leaving me no choice...”

Eerie’s ears perked. “H-Huh?”

Scarlet floated up out of sight, the mattress seeming to swallow her form in a swirling cyclone of gray mist. Up above, Eerie heard her friend holler loudly, “Let ‘em in, boys!”

“What the fu—?!” Eerie’s head banged on the mattress frame. “Ow, shit!” She scrambled out from under the bed. “No! D-Don’t you guys dare—!”

Too late.

She left her room in time to see the front door swing open. Eerie skidded to a halt, her hooves covering her mouth. Stix and Mister D just shrugged at her from either side of the doorway. The cat quickly faded up to the attic space. Mister remained, however. He peered with interest, waiting to see who would appear.

A long moment passed. Then Moonlight Raven stepped through, her heavily shadowed eyes blinking slowly. “Like… hello?”

Mister’s poofy tail wagged with obvious excitement as he beamed. “She looks cool!” he said.

Eerie tried to take a step back into her room, only to feel Scarlet use her ghostly power to shove her forward, further out into the living room. Eerie’s hooves scraped loudly over the wood.

Moonlight regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

Eerie stared back at her with circle eyes and a grim-pinched mouth.

Scarlet made a disgusted noise behind Eerie, and within the next second, the unicorn felt the ghost mare’s frigid touch float along her spine.

“Hi-yeeeee!” Eerie squealed, her fur standing on end.

If Moonlight thought the greeting odd, she didn’t say anything. She levitated the pitcher she had with her a little higher.

“I brought lemonade.” She looked behind her, then forward again. “Sorry my sister freaked you out. I told her not to be too shiny.”

Eerie swallowed through a tight throat, her mind barely grasping Moonlight’s words. She felt like she was underwater. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

There were live ponies in her house.

Live... talking... ponies.

And they even brought things!

Where the hell would the things go? What words should she say back? What were they supposed to do?

Damn it all, why the hell were there ponies in her house?!

It was just… so overwhelming.

Behind Moonlight, a pink pony with windswept sun-bleached hair cautiously stepped through the doorway. Sunshine Smiles, she’d called herself.

Mister D froze upon the sight of her, his ears pricking forward.

“Hulloooo,” Sunshine called softly. Her smile had gone down several degrees, and her brow was creased with obvious apology.

Eerie’s mouth wrinkled at the sight of this new pony. Sunshine had a free-spirited beauty that contrasted startlingly with Moonlight’s gloomy but meticulous charm. Though Eerie knew it wasn’t important for her designs that afternoon, she couldn’t help but feel annoyingly unpresentable.

It had been a while since she’d had her mane and coat trimmed, and her hooves were dirty and getting a bit long…

Eerie’s mouth wrenched to the side.

Whatever. I don’t care what they think. They’ll be gone soon, anyway. Forever.

“M’sorry if I startled you…” Sunshine said as she scuffed a hoof on the floor. She winced and lifted up her plate of food with her magic. “I brought sandwiches...?” She laughed weakly as she gently shut the door behind her.

“Tell them they can place their food on the table,” whispered Scarlet from the bedroom.

Eerie’s head turned slightly to the side as she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “Say what?”

Scarlet’s whisper morphed into an angry wheeze, “Tell them to place their food on the bloody table!”

Eerie’s head snapped forward again, her back stiff. “Things— Bloody table!” she squeaked.

She heard Scarlet groan with exasperation.

Moonlight and Sunshine exchanged looks, but they levitated their items onto the coffee table. Getting to the couch was a separate matter entirely. The two mares moved slowly through the slim lanes between Eerie’s belongings. Sunshine winced as a tower of musty clothes swayed threateningly from a small bump of her flank.

When they finally arrived at their seats, whorls of dust rose into the air when they sat. Sunshine sneezed, daintily.

Ugh!

Even that sounded sugary sweet!

How the hell were these two sisters? It was clear Moonlight was nothing like Sunshine! Eerie’s ear drooped as she stared from one sibling to the other.

“Now you sit down and thank them for coming,” Scarlet hissed from her hiding place.

Eerie turned to glare at the ghost over her shoulder. When she looked back at the two mares sitting on her couch, it became obvious that they were waiting on her to do something.

Mister D had floated from the door and now hovered over the two mares, just a little bit behind. The smile was gone, and his eyes had grown to occupy half his little face. Eerie raised an eyebrow at him but returned her attention to her unwanted guests.

So long as Moonlight didn’t see the colt, Eerie supposed he could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like she could tell him directly to get lost.

She took a deep breath.

It was like Scarlet said. These ponies were here now, so she needed to deal with them.

She willed her heavy hooves to walk forward. She watched the pair on her couch with wide eyes, her body ready to jump away just in case. Eerie blindly fumbled for the armrests before clumsily hauling herself into her reading recliner.

Stacks of books she was currently researching were carefully balanced on a side table next to it, amidst more trinkets of former haunts. These teetered as she settled into her seat, and Moonlight’s eyes flickered to them, remaining there.

Eerie touched the cold iron chain around her neck. Would it truly keep her safe from their attack spells? She hoped so with all her heart…

Tremulously, Eerie said, “Th-Thanks for c-coming.” Her eyes flickered to the food on the table. “And for the food and drinks.”

Sunshine brightened, apparently relieved that something resembling a conversation was starting. “Oh, it was no problem! I hope you like the sandwiches!”

Eerie’s eyes narrowed a little. “What kind of sandwiches did you bring?”

Sunshine leaned forward as she levitated one from the plate. “It’s spinach and cream cheese! Wanna try one?”

Eerie pressed back into her seat as though the other mare were pointing a crossbow at her chest. “No!”

Sunshine flinched and looked at Eerie sadly, like a dog that had been scolded. The sandwich she held in her aura lowered in the air.

Eerie cleared her throat, feeling her fur matting from sweat. “Er, I mean… n-no. Please. Help yourselves first. I’m, uh… not hungry just yet.”

“Thanks for having us over and stuff,” Moonlight said. Her eyes were still on the book stack next to Eerie. “Hope we aren’t being too big a bother.”

You’re a massive fucking bother, Eerie thought with a little grind of her teeth. But I’ll take care of you and anyone else who tries to get too close... for good!

Instead, she said, “N-Nah, it’s no big deal.”

She rapped a hoof on the side table. Her signal for the first ‘spooky’ occurrence.

Eerie tried to keep the vicious smile off her face. Any second now…!

Except nothing happened. Her nostrils flared and her eyes snapped up to the ceiling, the sting of betrayal swift.

Stix, you shitty cat—!

“Mmm!” exclaimed Sunshine.

Eerie regarded her with a grimace. The pink unicorn was eating one of her sandwiches.

“Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything…” Sunshine said between bites. “But these sandwiches are wicked good!”

“I’ll have to try one then,” Eerie said through a gritted smile.

Her brow tensed when she realized Mister D had floated closer to the mares. He was staring at Sunshine, his mouth hanging open a little.

Eerie snuck a look at Scarlet, her head jerking at the ghostly foal. Scarlet only held up her hooves in a gesture that blatantly said, I don’t know what he’s doing!

The ghost mare tried calling to Mister. They knew Moonlight couldn’t hear ghosts’ psychic speech, and yet Scarlet couldn’t seem to resist resuming her surreptitious way of speaking.

“Mister… Mister D, come to me, my darling,” she whispered with hooves outstretched. “You leave that mare be!”

But Mister D didn’t move.

Eerie grumbled, her ears flattening. Would one thing go right during this shit show? At least Mister wasn’t doing anything, but still… If Moonlight saw him...

Looking back at her guests, she realized Moonlight was still looking at her books. Eerie’s muzzle wrinkled as she tried to guess which book in particular the other mare was looking at.

“Um… You like reading?” she asked Moonlight.

“Yeah.” Moonlight said this with all the enthusiasm of a foal getting an ugly sweater for Hearth’s Warming. One that itched and smelled like sour milk.

Still, she pointed a hoof at a book in the middle of the stack. “I’ve got that one.”

Eerie blinked and looked at the book title. Abuse in the Caboose: The Tale of the Deadhead Murderer.

She looked at Moonlight sidelong, one eye squinting. “You like true crime?”

Moonlight nodded once. “I do. The darkest tales of ponykind speak to my black heart.” She stared at a bemused Eerie for a long beat, then added, “It’s also kind of related to my work, or whatever.”

Sunshine giggled and bumped shoulders with her sister. “Ravey, you’re so funny!”

She mimicked her sister’s expressionless face and apathetic monotone. “‘My black heart’...” Sunshine snorted out another giggle.

Moonlight looked away with a heavy sigh.

Blinking at the odd interaction, Eerie tried to carefully remove Abuse in the Caboose from the book stack with her teeth. She hadn’t read the book in a while, but she recalled it being quite gruesome. The killer had a weird thing with tying his victims’ entrails to the rear railing of the final train car.

“An’ wut do ya do?” Eerie asked, her lips trying to move over the book’s corner. The book stack swayed threateningly over her head.

“I’m a mortician,” Moonlight answered simply.

This made Eerie’s eyes snap wide. Without thinking, she wrenched the book from the stack to stare at Moonlight in shock. “Yoor a wha—?”

The books, which had already been leaning toward her seat, started to fall—

Scarlet’s voice was a shout at Eerie’s side, “Eerie, look out—!”

Eerie flinched, her ears pinning. Nothing happened. Slowly, she looked up.

The books were suspended over the unicorn’s head in a strange mixture of pink and dark blue auras. She looked at the mares across from her, stunned.

Both Sunshine and Moonlight’s horns were glowing. With their magic, they neatly stacked the books into two respective piles on the table next to the sandwich tray and lemonade.

“That was close!” Sunshine said with a little grin.

Moonlight raised an eyebrow. “You’re a unicorn, right? Why didn’t you use your magic to get the book instead?”

Sunshine nudged her hard as her grin turned strained. Moonlight stared at her. “What?” she asked.

Eerie’s lips pressed thin. She dropped the book onto the table with a bang.

“I am a unicorn,” she said flatly. She pulled back her mane to point at her stubby horn. “It’s short and crooked, so when my hair gets long, you sometimes can’t see it.”

She let her mane fall forward again and glowered. “My magic is weak and it doesn’t always work right, so most of the time I just do things like earth ponies would. The doctors say it has nothing to do with technique. It’s just… a kind of birth defect. Like pegasi with stubby wings.”

Moonlight’s expression lengthened a little, the first real change her face exhibited since they’d entered Eerie’s home.

“Oh,” Moonlight said. Her dark eyes dropped to the table. “Sorry.”

A thick silence followed.

Sunshine picked up her sandwich again and chewed with slow deliberate bites. Her eyes darted back and forth between Eerie and Moonlight. Meanwhile, the goth had levitated one of the books off the table and was idly flipping through it.

Pity. Eerie knew it when she saw it. This was definitely pity!

Eerie hated pity.

Her jaw clenched.

Fuck. This.

She looked over at Scarlet and nodded.

Scarlet, who was still watching everything from the neighboring bedroom, shook her head quickly, her eyes growing large.

“Eerie, just give them a chance!” she pleaded. “It was an honest mistake on Moonlight’s part, can’t you see? The mare looks like she has about as much social grace as you do!”

Eerie’s eyes flared wider and she jerked her head at her guests. Damn it, Scarlet! Just do it!

Scarlet pressed a hoof to her brow, a heavy sigh escaping her. Then, tossing her curly mane back, she lifted her muzzle, took a deep phantom breath, and let out an—

“AAAAaaAAAaaaaaAaaaaAAAAHHHH!!”

The scream was deafening, starting sharp before morphing into a wrenching screech that conjured images of ponies being filleted alive.

Sunshine yelped, her sandwich plopping to the floor. Moonlight’s eyebrows rose, her back going totally straight as she returned her book to the table.

Mister D popped up directly over Sunshine’s head, his tail shivering and his mouth snapping shut.

Eerie couldn’t help but smirk.

“What’s the matter, guys?” She asked lightly.

“You didn’t hear that?” Sunshine asked, a noticeable tremor in her voice.

Eerie batted her eyes at her, playing dumb. “Hear what?”

“A scream,” Moonlight said. Her head turned in the direction of the bedroom. “Sounded like it was close. Maybe from over there?”

Eerie only shrugged. The two sisters exchanged looks.

Screw Stix! Eerie thought with a little snort. Scarlet might just be enough to get these bitches out of here. Just keep playing stupid, and eventually, they’ll be so creeped out, they’ll never want to come back!

She could just imagine the rumors that would spread afterward.

‘Stay away from that Eerie Lantern! Evil spirits follow her around! I swear her house is cursed to shit!’

Eerie cackled inwardly.

“So you were telling me you work as a mortician?” Eerie asked Moonlight with a feigned smile.

“Mm-hmm.” Moonlight looked over at the bedroom again, before regarding Eerie. “I work the night shift.” She levitated a sandwich from the tray. “So this meal is actually my dinner.”

Eerie blinked, her smugness momentarily leaving her as genuine surprise bounded in. “Damn, really?”

“Yep.” Moonlight took a small bite of her sandwich. After swallowing, she pointed at her lemonade pitcher on the table. “Could we have some cups, please?”

Eerie’s ears pricked forward. “Crap. Um, sure.” She slid from the recliner and navigated the narrow lanes of her belongings to her kitchen. There she opened the cupboard and pulled out a small stack of cups.

“You have a lot of cool stuff, Eerie,” Sunshine commented. Her voice still sounded jittery, but the effort to regain her usual cheer was evident. “Are you a collector?”

Eerie frowned as she returned. She placed the cups on the table, then sat back in her recliner. “Kind of?”

Sunshine hopped a little in her seat. “I like to collect antiques! I drag Ravey with me all the time! It’s how we find ghosts!”

This made Eerie stiffen. “You go antiquing… to find ghosts?”

The blonde mare tittered. “Well… not to find ghosts. I really do like buying antiques for our house.” She bumped shoulders with Moonlight, who had busied herself with pouring everyone a drink. The goth shot her a mild glare when the lemonade sloshed. “But we’ve found ghosts lots of times that way!”

Now Eerie’s eyes were auguring into Sunshine. “You believe in ghosts, too?” she looked at Moonlight next, her brow shadowing her gaze. “You really think you found some?”

What happened to these so-called ghosts they’d found? Were they still trapped in their haunts? Were they sane?

A quick look at Scarlet showed her ghostly friend was wondering the same.

Moonlight nodded to Eerie’s question. “Yes.” She looked at Sunshine. “Tell her about the standing mirror we have at the—” she broke off, her gaze rising to where Mister D hovered over Sunshine’s head.

The little foal was now so close, he was delicately sniffing Sunshine’s hair.

Eerie stiffened. Did Moonlight really sense him? She’d still hoped what had happened yesterday on the trail was a fluke, and yet…

“Oh yeah!” Sunshine, oblivious, carried on. Her hooves outlined a long rectangle in the air. “Last month I bought this standing mirror that turned out to have a ghost inside of it! It’s in my bedroom!”

Eerie’s heart thrummed frantically in her chest. She wanted to know more about this ghost they’d found, and all the others too, but she also didn’t want Moonlight getting suspicious about Mister D.

Shit, what do I do??

Scarlet didn't hesitate.

The ghostmare screamed again, louder, drawing Moonlight's eyes away from Mister as they were all forced to cover their ears, even Eerie.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

The scream went on so long, that Eerie was willing to give up the game to demand her friend stop with the deafening racket. Before she could, however...

Mister D dove into Sunshine's body.

Eerie’s eyes bugged with shock, her blood rushing from her face.

The colt had possessed someone! He’d never done that before! Why would he do that now?!

Without thinking, Eerie extended a hoof and started to shout for the colt to get out of Sunshine—

But Stix, crowing with mischievous glee, swooped down from the attic like a bird descending on prey. He blew over a stack of Eerie’s belongings that were behind the couch—boxes, tools, paintings, and ceramics—and it toppled in an avalanche onto the two mares.

Eerie stiffened when she saw a short dagger tumble from the mess and crash into the sandwich tray. A split second after landing, the weapon shivered once. Twice.

Oh shit.

Looks like they finally found Thelk, the ancient warrior gryphon.

As Scarlet's scream petered out a sudden screeching roar swallowed it. The air came to life, sending dust, debris, and weightless trash hurtling through the tiny space. More of Eerie’s carefully piled belongings toppled over, erasing her walking lanes. Angry red mist sizzled up from the dagger’s blade before it began to cyclone, growing steadily in size. Lightning crackled inside it.

“WHO DARES WAKE THELK MOLTENSCAR, SLAYER OF DRAGONS?!” Thelk boomed, his psychic intent not just piercing, but ripping through the veil that kept the dead and living apart.

Red smoky claws emerged from within the eye of the cyclone, reaching curved toward the ceiling. A moment later, Thelk’s helmeted head reared into sight, massive and raging. He screeched once more and loomed over them all, swiftly filling the small space.

“Thelk!” Scarlet hollered. “Thelk, that’s enough!”

The gryphon ghost didn’t seem to hear her. His huge wings flapped, stirring the air again, and he beat his thick chest with his claws.

Eerie grimaced and tried to shield her face from the flying debris. Inwardly, she sighed.

Stupid Thelk. He always did this when he woke up from extended hibernation. She was going to have to keep him outside with Stix, from now on! Did he realize what a bitch it was to clean up after him?

Moonlight, meanwhile, hadn’t screamed once since the spectacle had started, but her eyes had become very large as she stared at the place where Thelk thundered in front of them. Sunshine, on the other hoof, did scream, very loudly, her forelegs covering her head.

“Come on!” Moonlight said in a firm, tight voice as she pulled her sister to follow.

They stumbled with difficulty over the back of the couch, now covered in Eerie’s miscellaneous crap. Stix, peeking upside down from the attic, blew open the front door for them with a bang, wrenching easily through the sea of things that would have blocked it before either mare could try their magic.

Eerie waved a frantic hoof. “NO! Stop them!”

The two sisters didn’t even pause to get their belongings.

Moonlight and Sunshine fled out the door, into the glaring daylight.

Thelk cut off mid-screech, his claws rising up to shield his eyes from the invasive sunny glow. His form rapidly shrank to its normal size, the red leaving his smoke and returning it a calmer dark gray. The air settled. The gryphon groaned and turned away from the door.

“Graves n’ guts, that’s much too bright!” Thelk complained gravelly. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched. As a yawn parted his sharp, claw-gouged beak, he asked partway through it, “How long’sh it been?”

Stix, chortling as he flipped down from the attic and floated to the floor, answered, “Six months, old buddy.”

But Eerie didn’t have time to chit-chat. She bounded off the recliner and clumsily tried to make her way to the door, her hooves tripping and sliding over her things. “Stix, you shithead! I said stop them!”

Stix crossed his arms and glared at her as she approached. His tail lashed. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s with the sourpuss, all of a sudden! I did what you asked, didn’t I?”

Eerie rounded on him, just as she made it to the door. “They have Mister Double, you idiot! He jumped into Sunshine!” The cat’s ears and whiskers fell and his eyes went wide.

She only took a single step outside when she paused, her heart leaping. Since foalhood, rarely had she ever left the house without Scarlet. Even in this situation, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Whipping around, Eerie yelled, “Scarlet—!”

“Way ahead of you!” Stix said with a snap of his fingers. His form broke down into a cloud, and this streamed to the kitchen where Scarlet’s teapot had been safe from the commotion in its basket over the icebox.

Stix picked this up and carried it swiftly to Eerie, just as a worried-looking Scarlet arrived in the same streaming fashion from near the bedroom, Mister’s quilted blanket folded in her hooves.

The cat’s full form rematerialized with the basket in his ghostly hands, his ears and whiskers still drooping. “Here, little mama.” He glanced at Scarlet as the ghostmare tucked Mister’s blanket next to her teapot. “I didn’t mean—”

“No time,” Eerie barked as she took the basket in her weak aura and turned to gallop down the road. Once or twice it dipped in her worried concentration, but her magic held. For now.

Could she do it? Could she find them in time? A ghost possessing a body was one thing… A ghost leaving the sphere of their haunt was another!

If Mister D left Sunshine’s body right now, he could evaporate forever. It wasn’t moving on. It was… destruction. Pure and simple.

“We’ll find them, Eerie!” Scarlet said, somehow breathless. Eerie glanced up to see her friend floating alongside her with a tight smile on her face. “Have faith, pumpkin. We will find them.”

Eerie swallowed and jerked her head once in a nod.

Don’t worry, Mister! She thought fiercely as they broke free of the woods and entered the field where she grew her pumpkins. I won’t let anything happen to you!

Author's Note

The Flight That Uncovered The Truth

Days ago, on Eerie Lantern’s front lawn…

Mister Double tried to remember.

Yet the only things he could recall before his unlife was rain... salty rain... and a sense of understanding.

An understanding of what his cutie mark truly stood for.

But the answer that brought this understanding had been lost in death, like water down a dark grimy drain. Sometimes, like that day, he'd hide from the others and try to remember. He'd try so hard the edges of his spirit would fuzz out and he thought he almost felt real pain.

What did his cutie mark mean? What was his talent?

Apparently, he’d been musing aloud, for Dew Dream appeared over him and said with languid annoyance, "Double trouble.”

She then leaned in, her dark eyes narrowing as she let out a breathy and contemptuous, “Duh."

In death, she appeared as a slim disaffected teen pegasus with leg warmers, an abundance of ear piercings, and heavy eye makeup. Her voluminous alternative mane faded from light gray at the roots to spiky dark ends, like she was a Vanhoover glam rocker.

Mister wilted before her, his big sad eyes following Dew in her ascent back to her weathervane that sat upon the squat house.

Was that it? Had he been a bad colt in life?

"Dew, be nice!" Scarlet scolded sharply. Her curly head poked out of the window, her eyes turned toward the roof, but Dew was already out of sight, hidden within her haunt.

Scarlet tutted and floated through the wall toward Mister, who glumly watched her approach.

“Don’t you pay her any mind, Mister D,” Scarlet said soothingly. Her features were warm and kind. “Dew Dream is quite trapped in the most temperamental age a ghost can hope to be stuck in. Her words may be careless, but she doesn’t wish ill on you. Not really.”

Mister sniffled and glumly swiped a foreleg across his nostrils, even though no real snot or tears were present.

The other ‘grown-up’ ghosts had explained to him that sometimes their spirits remembered what it was like to be in a living body, and so went ‘through the motions’ of looking and sounding as such, but it wasn’t real.

But he felt like his tears were real. They were his pain. His sadness.

“If she doesn’t mean it, then why is Dew always saying mean things to me?” he asked Scarlet with downturned eyes and limp ears.

Scarlet sighed, her forehooves laying atop each other as her gaze scanned the surrounding forest. One of the colt’s ears perked as he quietly admired his elder in death.

Mister always thought Scarlet looked really pretty, but his least favorite look for the southern belle was her ‘worried mama’ face. He felt bad whenever her phantom features pulled tight in this way. It was almost like he’d limped into the house after bullies beat him, or came home with a bad report from school…

He frowned down at the ground.

Wait. Had he done those things before?

“She’s… angry, hon.” Scarlet eventually said, looking at him with soft eyes. “Angry that she was so close to knowing what it was to be a grown-up, and she never got to be one. She never got to realize any of her many dreams.”

Mister scowled. “Shucks! Well, neither did I!”

The older ghost smiled sadly at him. “You’re quite right, Mister… You’re quite right.”

Scarlet made a gentle motion with a hoof for him to follow her. “Come on, hon. Eerie and I are going to organize her closet today. There are bound to be some old haunts in there with interesting stories to tell!”

Mister let Scarlet guide him into the house with a half-hearted smile. He usually loved hearing Eerie and Scarlet’s stories about ghosts they’d set free and all the strange and interesting places those ghosts had come from. They were fanciful and hopeful, despite their tragic starts.

But he wasn’t much in the mood for hearing about creatures moving on when he himself wasn’t ready to.

After all, how could he reach the afterlife if he didn’t even know who he was and what he was even leaving behind?

The present.

Sunshine Smiles was like warmth and candy. Mister Double hadn’t been able to resist her aura. Hadn’t been able to stay away from the pull of her vibrant spirit energy. Just being close to her had felt like being alive again.

He’d never possessed anyone before, but to say that he’d consciously taken over Sunshine’s body wasn’t exactly true.

It was more that she’d been a whirlpool that he’d been swept up by.

Once inside the swirling currents, the sheer force of who Sunshine was seemed to engulf him, and he was lost in a din of somepony else’s existence. It was sensation and emotion, but also memory and personality that assailed him, threatening to override his own. Faintly, through the chaos, Mister finally understood why Scarlet had always warned him against possession until his powers as a ghost had improved.

“The risk goes both ways,” she had explained to him with a grave expression. “When spirits meld together, it’s less like gently mixing ingredients to bake a sweet, sweet cake, and more like hammering and welding two things together that have no business being one!”

“Then why do you and the other grown-ups like possession so much?” he’d asked, pouting. As far as he could see, the real reason he and Dew weren’t allowed to possess was that the big ghosts were being stingy.

“Well,” Scarlet said with a nervous brush of her dress. “Because when you’ve the spiritual power to keep your essence and the host’s essence separate, it… ah… feels good.”

She looked at him with a chagrined smile. “I won’t try to deny it, Mister. It feels really good! Done properly, possession is an exquisite ride!”

The seriousness returned to her pretty features. “But therein lies the danger!” She wagged a hoof. “Even a strong spirit can succumb to melding if they lose concentration! You and Dew simply lack the discipline. Eerie and I are just trying to keep you both safe!”

At the time, hearing those words had greatly annoyed the ghost colt.

Safe? Safe?! He was dead! What harm was there in him trying it for a little bit? He knew for a fact that Eerie Lantern was good at ejecting spirits from her body. Surely if he lost control, she’d be able to set things right and keep them both from harm?

But now, tumbling in the depths of Sunshine Smiles being, he realized that wasn’t the point. That wasn’t the point at all!

It was scary being in here.

And perhaps the scariest part of all was that he kind of liked the taste of his own oblivion.

Mister Double felt like he had all the control and none of it at the same time, so even though he could feel every inch of Sunshine’s body and could do anything he wanted with it, those first few precious moments were spent cowering and screaming.

He saw so many glimpses of a life that wasn’t his: Birthday parties numbering well beyond his own years; experiences with a spooky sister he never knew; sexual encounters that baffled and titillated him; painful losses that felt insurmountable and yet familiar—

He wasn’t even aware that Thelk had awoken from his hibernation and was causing a scene. No, Mister was screaming from his own tumultuous realization that possession was overwhelming and terrifying and he absolutely wasn’t ready for this—

So when Moonlight Raven said, “Come on!” and pulled him along, trapped in Sunshine’s body, toward the door, Mister didn’t fight.

He just followed her out of the house mindlessly before being showered in warmth as the sun’s light rained down on him.

The sun… The sun! How many years had it been since he’d last felt it?

And those smells!

The grass! The trees! The flowers!

Tears welled in Sunshine’s eyes, clouding Mister D’s sight as he ran after Moonlight in a daze through the woods. Even the sensation of the mare’s hooves hitting the dirt road felt visceral and amazing.

“I... I feel alive!” Mister whispered in Sunshine’s voice. His head whipped around to take in the emerald brilliance of the passing nature.

“I feel alive!” he said louder as if announcing it to the world. He laughed and sobbed.

If he was going to be soul melded, at least his last memories were of something beautiful.

It feels terrific, doesn’t it? Sunshine said to him through the maelstrom of sights, sounds, and stray memories.

Startled, Mister’s gallop came to a skidding halt just at the outer edge of the pumpkin field as he gazed wide-eyed into the blue horizon.

“Huh?” he gasped, “Y-You—?”

It’s okay, the mare inside whispered soothingly. The currents that swirled around Mister calmed. The mental noise of a life not his own gradually quieted.

You surprised me a little,Sunshine went on.But you’re totes safe. M’kay? Nobody is going to be melding with anybody today.

“Keep going!” Moonlight hissed as she passed, the curl that she so carefully styled around her horn now trailing through the air in disarray. “We have to—”

The goth pony’s eyes went wide as they fell back on her sister. She slowed to a stop and trotted back, her horn lighting up.

“Who are you?” she asked flatly. Her level voice somehow managed to hold a hidden current of menace.

Sunshine’s mouth opened, but this time, Mister wasn’t the one who spoke. “Moonlight, wait! I’m fine. This one’s never done this before.”

Moonlight’s eyes narrowed as she sat by her sister. “And? Newbie ghosts are, like, waaay nightmarish. I don’t want to take the risk.” Her horn burned brighter and she leaned in.

Sunshine’s face frowned, just as her inner self drew Mister’s spirit in deeper. He felt an aura of protectiveness surround him. “He’s just a colt, Ravey,” the mare whispered.

This made the goth go still. Her eyes searched her sister’s face before the magic finally faded from her horn.

Sunshine smiled her gratitude before closing her eyes. Even before she said anything, the colt knew her intent. They were going to ‘talk’—but it wasn’t going to take half as long as when he talked out in the world. It was going to be at the speed of thought—more a sense of intent than verbalized words.

And so, in this manner, Sunshine asked him, Your name is Mister Double, right?

Mister shivered within the folds of Sunshine’s spiritual embrace. Here the space hummed and it was almost swelteringly hot. Though the chaos of swimming unchecked through another pony was gone, somehow this was just as, if not more intense, than before.

The ghost felt frightfully connected, and whereas previously he had been partaking of everything Sunshine was, now he felt her doing the same to him.

Her consciousness sieved out details and ideas. Like his name. His time as a ghost. And more than he even knew was there.

Oooh… Yeah, I can see why Scarlet and Eerie told you to wait, little guy. You have, like, ZERO defenses! Sunshine said with a tut.

The humming around him lessened and he felt her retract a little.

Sorry,she told him. I’ll be gentler. I don’t normally get kids in my head, y’know?

Mister felt like crying again, so Sunshine’s eyes began to burn.

N-No! I’m the one who's sorry… he mumbled. You were really bright and warm, and before I knew it—!

Hey, no biggie!She assured him with a giggle.I should have been more careful. My sis is always telling me to be on my guard more, but I’m kind of an airhead, so I forget.

I don’t think you’re an airhead, Mister replied with a proverbial frown. You just see stuff differently! That dumb ol’ stallion should have given you the money! You want to help creatures and your idea was good!

He felt Sunshine falter around him.

The stallion…?she started uncertainly, before she perked with rigid embarrassment. Oh, you mean my business pitch to Filthy Rich last week!

The heat around Mister grew as Sunshine continued bashfully, Aw, I dunno, Mister. Filthy might have been right. It’s hard to see how helpful a ‘spirit coach’ would be if nopony even believed!

She gave a mental shrug.Besides, I help plenty of ponies as a nurse at the Canterlot Hospital!

Mister pouted. But it isn’t what you want to do!

He felt her smile.Nevermind what I wanna do, little guy. What matters is what YOU wanna do. And that’s remembering your life and your talent, am I right?

His spirit sat up straighter. You can help me remember?

Sure! Sunshine answered brightly. But this might feel a little crazy, kay? Just try to stay relaxed so that I can see.

Mister nodded his head eagerly.

He felt something move over him, like a hoof stroking over his mane and fur.

Let’s see here—

Then the cold sprang forth, straight from the center of his spirit. It was like a giant icicle, cold and frigid… and for the first time in a long time, he remembered his final thoughts.

Some ghosts remembered them after being liberated. Some ghosts didn’t. Mister was the latter.

Fact was, remembered or not, every ghost had them. When they were trapped in their haunts, they repeated them, over and over, like a record skipping. That said, not all were willing to share theirs.

Stix and Dew Dream, for instance, refused to say, no matter how much Mister wheedled. Scarlet’s final thoughts had been spent wondering about a strange taste. Thelk’s had been spent predictably relishing in what he called a ‘glorious death’.

But Mister’s…

Mister’s was—

“Oh, Sweet Celestia…!” Sunshine whispered with a drawn face and haunted gaze. The color seemed to go out of her coat.

Moonlight’s withers tightened as she placed a gentle hoof on her sister’s face.

As a walker of the shadows, she knew the depths of darkness ran deep. Somehow, despite her sister’s irresistible life force, Sunshine had been fortunate enough to stay above the void. Moonlight had tried to warn her. To encourage her to close her soul off forever, if only to shield what radiance she could.

Sunshine wouldn’t hear of it.

“Ravey, doing that would dim my joy of life,” she often replied. “Instead of doing that, why not share it? These poor ghosts are so sad. I can help them!”

Moonlight didn’t get it. Why risk all of your happiness for the sake of spirits that may not even deserve it? She knew that poltergeists existed. Her private research at Celestia’s School of Magic had taught her that evil souls could also linger, plaguing the living in a fit of malice and jealousy.

Could it be that this spirit was a poltergeist?

Moonlight’s lips thinned and her horn began to light up again. “Sunny, speak to me.”

Tears welled in Sunshine’s eyes. She didn’t move her head, but her gaze flickered to her sister’s blank face.

“This colt, he was—!”

Eerie Lantern’s voice cut in like a ragged roar, “Give him back!”

Moonlight’s head snapped to the side to see the lavender unicorn galloping towards them, huffing loudly. Her overgrown coat glistened with fresh sweat, and her eyes were wide with panic and outrage.

At her side she levitated a basket, the very same from when they’d first met. In it was the same teapot, but under it was a blanket.

Eerie slowed as she neared them, like she was wary to get too close, and her face screwed up with strain as her horn burned brighter beneath the wild fringe of her mane, but her expression was set. Determined.

“You better fucking give back my friend!” She snarled. Her ears pinned back, and she scraped her hoof harshly in the ground.

“Mister is safe,” Sunshine assured her quietly. Her brow knotted, making her forehead wrinkle some under her horn. “But Eerie, he…” Emotions swallowed her words, and she hung her head.

Moonlight frowned.

Sunshine becoming sad after a ghost encounter was not new, but her sister was more than just being sentimental. She was... disturbed.

“Shut up!” Eerie snapped, stomping a hoof. “Don’t you realize what you could have done? By separating him from his haunt you could have destroyed him!”

“Uh… S’cuse me? Your friend possessed my sister without asking,” Moonlight pointed out. “We wouldn’t have left at all if things hadn’t gone all crazy.”

“If you know so much about ghosts, then maybe you would have recognized some harmless prestidigitation when you saw it!”

Moonlight’s eyebrow arched up, and if possible, her voice turned flatter. “A massive book flying toward my face is, like, the opposite of harmless.”

Eerie let out a hysterical laugh. “Puh-lease! As if having two unwanted strangers in my house was a cakewalk!”

Now the goth pony’s eyes narrowed. “Woah…”

So that’s how it was? She thought she’d seen a kindred spirit buried beneath all that awkward paranoia. Had this all been a mistake?

“Girls,” Sunshine squeaked.

“If you didn’t want us there, you could have just said so,” Moonlight said witheringly.

Eerie’s lip curled. “Duh! I tried! But either you were too stupid to hear me, or this was your plan all along!”

Moonlight scoffed. “Getting my sister traumatized? Trust me, I def have easier ways of doing that.”

“You’re exorcists,” Eerie hissed. “I’ve met your kind before. ‘Holy’ ponies who think they have a right to condemn all souls!”

The goth looked down at herself, then dryly at Eerie. “I’m about as holy as a demon’s fuckstick. Even my sister is just a shiny airhead. Are you blind?”

Sunshine sank down to the ground. “Girls…?” Her voice sounded fainter.

“You’re a liar!” Eerie yelled. Her stance widened and her head lowered like she was about to charge. “Give me back my friend, or I’ll—!”

Moonlight mirrored the stance, her eyes darting up briefly to see the collection of spirit energy over Eerie’s head. It was the same earth pony spirit from the other day… But it didn’t radiate menace. Only worry and fear.

Frustration finally started to eke into Moonlight’s voice as she bit out through bared teeth. “I swear by the stars, we didn’t mean to—”

“SAVE HIM!!” Sunshine screamed, her head rearing back as she pointed desperately at nothing.

Moonlight’s head whipped toward her sister, her gaze stretching wide as she took in the unchecked horror drawing Sunshine’s pretty features into a ghastly mask of terror.

“The other colt is still in the shack! SAVE him before the monster—!!”

The blanket from the basket flew into sight and covered Sunshine’s head. Eerie appeared at the blonde’s side, her face pinched with stress.

“Shhhhh… It’s okay, Mister. It’s over. It’s over now,” she murmured.

Within moments Sunshine’s hysteria quieted.

Gently, Eerie pulled the blanket off with her teeth, revealing that Sunshine had collapsed.

Not paying the mare any attention, she carefully, lovingly, folded the blanket and returned it to the basket.

The fabric smoked with ghostly energy and became intensely cold, like it had been sitting in an ice box for hours, before it returned to normal temperature. In his panic, Mister had been drawn to the security of his haunt.

The tightness in Eerie’s countenance morphed to one of weary sadness. “You’re okay. The other colt’s okay. You did good. Rest now. Shhhh…”

Scarlet Orange hovered just over her shoulder, her face long. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she turned her face down and sighed.

They’d feared this day would come. But why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t she have protected Mister Double better?

Tears clung to Eerie’s eyelashes.

I failed him.

Sunshine lay on her side, panting, her eyes lidded. Moonlight went to her sister and nuzzled her cheek.

“Sunny?” She breathed. “You okay?”

When no reply came, she asked next. “What did you see?”

Rather than answer, Sunshine lifted her head and gazed at Eerie, tears welling in her eyes. “I… I offered to help him remember. I thought it would help…” Her voice frayed. “Mister, I’m sorry!”

“Shut your mouth,” Eerie hissed, her ears pinning as she glared at the meddlesome unicorn. “Shut your fucking mouth! He was just a foal when he died! Did you think he’d remember something happy? You idiot!”

Scarlet tutted. “Eerie, that’s enough.”

“No, it’s not enough!” Eerie yelled, turning her venomous eye on Scarlet next. “Not by half! Thanks to her, Mister D will tap into a whole new kind of suffering!”

Moonlight stepped between Sunshine and Eerie, her ears pinned flat. “My sister just wanted to help. She said she’s sorry, and she means it. Lay off.”

Eerie rounded on the goth, her eyes narrowing to slits. “And you. Why couldn’t you take a hint? I don’t want friends! I hate the living! All you breathers do is bring pain!”

Moonlight’s lips thinned. “Wow. Last I checked you were breathing like the rest of us.”

This made Eerie look away with disgust. “Yeah…” Her lip curled as she eyed Moonlight sideways. “And it’s days like these that make me wish otherwise.”

Scarlet gasped, one hoof finding her chest. “Oh, pumpkin! You take that back!”

Instead, Eerie turned her back on the other mares. “Stay away from me.”

Then she lowered her head, grabbed the basket handle with her teeth, and trotted away.

Scarlet glided alongside her, and Eerie could feel her friend’s gaze. She refused to meet it.

“Eerie,” the southern belle started tentatively. “It seems to me those mares really didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this…”

Eerie’s teeth bit deeper into the handle, but she still didn’t turn her head.

“Didn’t they also say they had some experience with ghosts?” Scarlet continued. “I think that Sunshine Smiles truly wanted the best for Mister. She couldn’t have known that—”

“I was murdered,” Mister Double squeaked.

Eerie stopped short, just at the edge of the woods that harbored her house. Her ears were perked tall, and her eyes became massive.

Scarlet’s hooves covered her mouth as Mister slowly emerged from his blanket. His expression was blank, though his ghostly gaze pierced deep into Eerie’s.

“Eerie… Sunshine helped me see… but not all of it.” His voice was waif-like, but something about it seemed unrelenting. His ears slowly turned out and his withers visibly tightened. “Tell me the rest of it. I’m a big colt, promise. Just… J-Just tell me everything.”

Eerie put the basket down slowly. She looked at Mister with profound sorrow. “Mister… It’s good that you don’t remember it all. What use will it do for you now to recall something so painful?”

Mister frowned and looked down at the ground.

Scarlet gave a start and looked behind them just as Eerie heard the sound of hooves over the dirt path.

“I wasn’t trying to show him his end,” Sunshine breathed as she neared. “I was trying to show him his life. He was trying to remember… Trying to remember what his—“

“What my talent was,” Mister said gravely.

Eerie’s eyes squeezed shut.

That weight... that awful weight! Eerie could hear it in the colt’s voice. She knew it so well. After all, she’d held the same gravity in her words as a filly. It was just another way the psychic scars of trauma made their awful presence known.

“I can’t remember my talent,” Mister murmured. “It was part of who I was. How can I move on if I don’t know who I was?”

Eerie’s chin quivered. “But your talent was why you died…” Her voice sounded small.

I don’t want to do this...

She felt a chilly caress on her cheek and opened her eyes to see Mister looking pleadingly at her. “Eerie, if you know, please tell me… What happened? Why was I murdered?”

Eerie Lantern took a deep breath in the hopes that it would steady her. It didn’t work, so she took another one. And another one. Very soon, she was fighting to breathe at all.

“I can’t. Mister, I can’t!” She half-sobbed, half-gasped.

Tears clouded her vision.

Why? Why was this happening now?

She and Scarlet had discovered the truth years ago. When all of the awful details had been made clear to them, they had decided it was better to leave such things in the past. After all, most ghosts could move on without discovering the trauma of their death.

Some, like Stix, did learn of their fate, and they were no more able to find peace than if they had become a poltergeist and terrorized the living.

“He wants to know, doesn’t he?” Moonlight whispered.

Eerie turned and yelled over her shoulder, “It’s none of your business!”

“It’s okay,” Mister said firmly.

Eerie looked at him, taken aback. “Mister, it’s their fault that—!”

“It’s okay for them to hear. I want them to,” he pressed with a frown. “Sunshine felt everything I did. What if she needs to hear it now? She was nice to me. I possessed her, but she was nice to me anyway. So she and her sister stay.”

Eerie’s jaw clenched. She glared at Moonlight, then at Sunshine.

“What is it?” Moonlight asked.

“He wants you to stay,” Eerie said through tight lips. “He wants you to hear his story.”

The sisters exchanged surprised looks.

Eerie scowled down at her own hooves. When it came to delving into the past, it was hard to deny a ghost’s wishes. It was such a sensitive subject, and one could never tell what thing would truly bring closure. Ultimately, most spirit desires could be boiled down to one thing—

“Every ghost just wants to be remembered, pumpkin,” Scarlet murmured. “If he wants more witnesses, then it’s his right.”

Eerie looked at her wearily. She wiped her tears with a rough pass of her forearm, the fur on her cheeks matted and wet.

“All right,” she started with a rough sigh. “Listen up.”

Eerie Lantern drew herself up and fixed the unicorn sisters with a hard stare. “This is the story of how Mister Double died for his talent.” She looked at Mister and forced a somber smile, “And why it made him a gods-damned hero.”

Author's Note

Long time no see! I try to refrain from author's notes, and I may even remove this later, but--

Well, I just wanted to say I tried, guys. The last few months have been a bit chaotic. I'm sorry this chapter lacks much in the way of humor. It's my feeling that this is the weakest installment thus far, and so I wouldn't be surprised if I finally got some negative feedback in the wake of it... but I'm hoping the next chapters will more than makeup for that.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Your support has been wonderful so far! Thanks for reading!

The Colt Who Turned Back

Scarlet and Mister followed close as Eerie led the other two mares into the embrace of the woods. The afternoon sun searched for them through the dense canopy, fingers of light only occasionally stroking their hides as they passed below. On the other hoof, the light pierced through the ghosts rather indifferently.

Mister’s form seemed wispy in his anxious anticipation. His little face was set sternly, like he was being escorted to something solemn, like a trial. Scarlet managed to stifle a pained sigh, opting instead to put a kind hoof on the colt’s back as they floated along.

Eerie didn’t stop until she found a nice dark spot completely shrouded in the shadow of Foal Mountain. Judging by the way Sunshine shivered, it wasn’t just cool here. The air nipped.

Moonlight Raven hummed her approval as she and her sister settled down on the grass before a large angled rock, whose mottled gray surface was blanketed in places by dark and spongy moss. Eerie quickly scaled this and sat facing her audience, but not before setting her basket and the ghosts’ haunts behind the rock, away from the other mares. Scarlet puckered her lips but said nothing.

There were days when it seemed Eerie’s mistrust was insurmountable.

“All right, you assholes better shut up and listen because I’m not repeating myself,” Eerie muttered with a nervous flick of her tail.

Now that did it.

“Eerie, if you’re going to be Mister’s speaker, the least you could do is tone down your venom,” Scarlet chided with a huff.

She patted Mister’s back. The colt had turned his eyes downward, his lip stiffening like he was trying to maintain his composure.

“This will be hard enough for him to hear,” Scarlet went on with a deep scowl. “You’ll not make it easier with your rudeness and vulgarity!”

Eerie’s ears wilted and she slouched a little. “All right, Scarlet.” She looked at Mister. “I’ll try and do this right, Mister. I’m just…” She winced. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

She eyed Moonlight and Sunshine sideways. They gazed back at her nonplussed. Scarlet supposed it would be a bit confusing only hearing one side of the conversation all the time.

This was new ground for them. In all their years helping ghosts, they’d never encountered any sympathetic believers. Yes, an exorcist or two, but they hardly gave any room for civil conversation.

“It’s been… brought to my attention that I could do this more… civilly,” Eerie muttered with obvious effort. She gazed warily between the pair before her. “I really mean it, though. Listen to what I’m about to say carefully because this is probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life… And that’s saying something. So please, just… don’t make it harder.”

Moonlight and Sunshine exchanged looks. The goth nodded her head once, firm and clear, her blank face somehow conveying a strong resolution. Her sister bobbed her head eagerly, her eyes wide with the need to please.

Scarlet smiled at them both.

From what she’d observed of them, they were certainly an odd pair… but perfectly sincere, too. Oh, if only she’d been more steadfast in her refusal to help Eerie’s silly plan! Perhaps then they’d all be back at the house, chatting about their mutual interest in helping ghosts? There was no way to tell.

All Scarlet could do now was be as supportive as possible as this somber business was seen to.

Eerie took a long moment to gather her thoughts. Scarlet could only imagine what she was thinking about.

Their investigation into Mister’s past, delving deep into old town records? The day they first found Mister’s blanket at a yard sale? Or perhaps Eerie’s own terrible childhood?

“Mister Double was… an amazing colt,” Eerie murmured. Her gaze was soft as she slowly scanned the surrounding trees. A small breeze stirred her overgrown coat and messy orange hair, and she tilted her head back as it did, her eyes falling shut for a moment.

When she looked at the others again, her expression looked weary. Sorrowful.

Mister floated just a little closer, his eyes wide and his ears perked forward. His short and puffy tail was flagged high.

“He died before any of us were even born,” Eerie continued, a doleful gloss overcoming her eyes. “Back when the first railroads were still being built, and a lot of the towns and cities we know of today either didn’t exist or were just getting started.”

Eerie looked at Mister Double and smiled. Scarlett could feel her spirit flicker with sympathy at her friend’s effort at bravery. “He was from a little nameless village just on the western edge of the bayou that surrounds Hayseed Swamp,” Eerie said, just the tiniest emotional creak entering the tail end of her sentence. “What we know of as Dodge City today.”

Scarlet floated down and settled onto the grass next to Moonlight and Sunshine, her face solemn. She knew this story. But hearing it like this was like manifesting a long ago time. She could almost feel the ages turning, like a dial, onto that lost era.

"He was the second-youngest of seven siblings, and even though he died young, you could argue he did more than any of them ever could have hoped.” Eerie sniffled and she closed her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes. "He faced evil and won. He stopped a monster."

Mister Double raced through the village to reach the bridge leading toward the woody swampland, his little hooves clopping loudly on the flagstones. Behind him, his friends Black Clover, Sweet Bug, and Lil’ Bulrush were out for a day of fun. They were young blank flanks, each from humble families that worked the mines and the small farms. They were used to making the most of what little they had. Though, if you asked any of them, they were rich. Who else got to enjoy a swamp filled with gators and horned toads?

As they neared the bridge, an adolescent colt milling with his friend watched them approach with wide eyes. He jumped into Mister’s path with a loud whinny, his green mane falling wild into his startled gaze. “Woah!” he cried. “Just where do you dummies think you’re going?”

Mister felt his friends collide into his backside. Grimacing, he squinted up at the colt. “What do you mean, Sprout? We’re going to the swamp, like always!”

“Didn’t you guys hear?”

Mister looked over his shoulder at the others, then looked back at Sprout with a nonplussed expression. “Hear what?”

“There’s a–” Sprout grunted as his friend knocked hard into his side. “What’s the big idea, Cobalt Hoof? I was trying to tell ‘em about the–”

“Monster, right?” Cobalt Hoof interjected with a meaningful wag of his eyebrows. His mane was curlier than Sprout’s, and a cool blue.

Sprout blinked owlishly at him. Then his mouth made a large circle. “Oooooh! Yeah, the uh,” he snickered, “Monster!”

“You’re lying. There’s no monster!” Black Clover argued behind Mister.

“Yeah, you’re just trying to scare us again!” Lil’ Bulrush chimed in.

Sprout’s grin faded and he shook his head. “No! Really! There’s something bad in the swamp. The sheriff’s been looking for it all day. A royal messenger came with the news early this morning and everything.”

“Oh yeah?” Mister challenged. “What kinda monster?”

“Uh…” Sprout shrank and looked uncertainly at his friend. “Can’t we just tell ‘em?” he asked quietly.

Cobalt raised a hoof to his mouth. “You want to tell them about the eye-eating?”

Sprout shook his head with alarm. “No, not that–!”

“The monster eats eyes?” Mister asked, his body quivering.

Cobalt advanced on him, his nostrils flaring. “Sure does! Golly, it just loves foal eyes! They’re so tender and delicious to him!”

“Just stay away from the swamp you scamps,” Sprout said with an exasperated look at his friend. He gazed at them all seriously. “Play in the village today. I mean it.”

Mister and the others turned away, their ears and tails sagging. Being in the village was not nearly as fun as the swamp. They had adults always glaring at them disapprovingly for being too loud or just being in the way.

“Hey,” Lil’ Bulrush said, looking at a pair of mares whispering near their thatch-roof house. Their faces were pinched with worry. “Come to think of it, I think all the grownups look kinda worried!”

Black Clover spat on the flagstones next to Mister. He had dark green hair that fell about his head in a messy bowl cut. His rear leg was bandaged from a tumble he took down a rocky cliff last week. “Gee whiz! I bet they’re all in a fuss over nothing!”

Sweet Bug looked at him, her purple eyes flashing with fear. “But what if there is a monster? Do you think the Royal Guard is coming?”

“If the monster’s already here, they ain’t gonna do much good,” Clover contested.

“Don’t be scared, Bug,” Lil’ Bulrush said to her with a shy smile. He had a cropped brown mane and his ear had a chink in it from that time a gator had nearly bitten it clean off. “I’m sure our village has a plan.”

“They don’t need a plan because there ain’t nothing out there,” Black Clover said with a little stomp of his hooves. “They’re all just being a bunch of ninnies!”

“If you’re so sure of it, why don’t you go out there alone?” Lil’ Bulrush challenged him.

“Fellas, don’t fight,” Bug pleaded, but Black Clover pinned his ears and went to Bulrush with a whipping tail.

Bulrush scraped the flagstones with a hoof, his ears pinning, too, and they pressed heads together, snorting like bulls.

Mister Double shoved his way between them. “That’s enough, guys!”

Black Clover and Lil’ Bulrush stared at him. “That’s rich coming from you, pretty colt!” Clover spat.

Now Mister’s ears pinned back. “Pretty colt?”

Clover snickered and sauntered up to him. “Yeah, you heard me! You’re too much of a chicken to do anything interesting!”

“You saying I haven’t got any moxie?” Mister snarled at him.

Black Clover smirked. “I don’t have to!” He held out his bandaged leg. “My leg says it!”

Mister Double faltered. Black Clover had gotten hurt because he’d saved Mister from a rock slide. Mister had frozen out of fear, watching the boulders tumbling toward him. His friend, brash though he was, hadn’t hesitated to rush to Mister’s aid. That was moxie.

He had to show them he had it too.

“All right!” Mister snapped, rallying his nerve. “If you think you’re so darn brave, then we’ll sneak out into the swamp! Let’s go!”

Black Clover shook his head. “Nah. Not now.” His smile turned wicked. “Tonight!”

Mister’s eyes widened. He looked at the others. Sweet Bug was shaking her head fervently, her pale lilac ponytail bobbing frantically. Lil’ Bulrush also looked surprised. He glanced at Mister and smiled uncertainly.

“Well?” Clover pressed, his eyes narrowing. “What’s it gonna be, pretty colt?”

Mister snorted hard through his nostrils. “Meet at the bridge at sundown, then!”

Black Clover smiled wolfishly. “Fine! See you then.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. It passed slowly for Mister, who dreaded the setting sun. He didn’t want to go into the swamp. But he didn’t want to lose anymore face with his friends.

So he went.

Slipping away from his family was easy in a house so full of ponies. There was too much to keep track of, especially in the chaotic din that was his siblings’ raucous play. They were crammed, nine strong, in a little thatch house that only had two rooms. He only needed to wait for a squabble to break out, as it always did with his brothers and sisters, and he seized his chance.

He kissed his little sister, Breezy Puff, on the forehead. “If I’m not back by tomorrow, tell Mama and Papa I went into the swamp, okay?”

She nodded. She was just out of diapers, but she spoke well for her age.

He smiled and waved a hoof at her. She smiled and waved back. He slipped out of the window and never saw her again.

Mister met Clover at the bridge. The other colt seemed surprised that Mister had shown up at all.

“You ready, pretty colt?” he asked, scowling. His voice quavered a little.

Mister puffed out his chest. “Ready? Hmph! You bet! I’ll even lead the way!”

“Be my guest,” Black Clover sneered.

Mister trotted past him, his head held high and his tail flagged. They marched together deep into the swamp. The shadows grew, and the darkness became a thick veil around them. Only where the eastern cottonwoods seemed to stop crowding them, the moonlight reached weakly past the heavy storm clouds. The wind pulled at their fur, and the modest light spell that illuminated the tip of Mister’s horn flickered uncertainly with every chilly rake of the breeze.

“Let’s go back,” Black Clover finally said behind him. His words were clipped.

Mister looked back at his friend. “You ready to tell the others I’m not soft?” He asked coolly. He tried to tamp down on the tremors that shuttered through him.

“I’ll tell ‘em anything you want, Mister!” Clover hissed at him. His eyes were wide under the fringe of his mane. “Let’s just–!” He broke off, his expression lengthening as his eyes grew to even greater dimensions.

Blinking, Mister turned.

Through the curtain leaves of a black willow, a pair of glowing red eyes glared at them.

He felt the fear strike him like a bolt in his little chest.

“Run!” Mister screamed.

Scrambling, the pair took off back the way they had come. They charged over the damp ground, and with Mister’s light, they kept clear of the water’s edge, where the aquatic plants tangled and the bracken stench of algae rose up.

We can make it! Mister thought as he raced as hard as he could. We can–

“Mister, wait!” Black Clover shouted behind him.

He looked back just as they broke through some bulrushes to a small clearing. Clover had fallen far enough behind that Mister only spied him thanks to the grace of the weak moonlight. His face was contorted in terror…and pain.

His leg! Mister realized with horror. He can’t run fast!

When he saw the large dark form burst from the inky black cover amidst the cottonwoods to descend upon a screaming Black Clover, Mister’s horn flickered out, plunging him into the shadows. This didn’t happen because of quick thinking. No. He was just terrified and lost his grip on the spell. He could feel the piss leave him, the sharp stink of it tickling his nose as it pooled around his little hooves.

He stood paralyzed as the hulking beast with the glowing eyes picked his friend up by the nape of his neck like a cat, eliciting howls of pain from the little colt, before it turned and bounded off into the trees.

Mister Double remained there, trembling so hard it was difficult to breathe right. Tears streamed from his eyes, and all he could think about was his mother and father. How much he wanted to see them again. How much he wanted to see Breezy Puff again.

He told his legs to move and they obeyed him sluggishly. He stumbled in the dirt, wincing at even the slight sound his scuffling hooves made on the ground. What if the monster came back for him too?

He neared the treeline. He could go home. Get help.

Black Clover’s anguished scream ripped through the dark, making him go still.

Mister looked over his little shoulder. Silent sobs wracked through him.

He knew his friend would be dead before he even made it back to the village.

He wiped at his face. Slowly he turned facing the way the monster had gone.

Could he do it?

With a will, Mister made the light of his horn flicker back to life.

Did he really dare?

When the light enveloped him, it wasn’t even a question anymore. His flanks tingled. He rose into the air, and for a brief, blissful moment the fear left him completely. The wind swirling about him wasn’t cold, but warm and crackling with energy.

Mister’s hooves touched the ground again a short moment later. Blinking dazedly, he turned his head and looked at his flank. In the moonlight, he could see… He had his cutie mark. It was two rearing dogs, fierce expressions on their faces.

He frowned, confused. Then his expression cleared.

Mister’s ears flattened on his head. He scraped at the ground with a hoof and stared ahead, determination burning in his eyes even as anxiety gnawed at his gut. With a little yell, he took off running after his friend. After the monster.

Because he didn’t just dare…

Eerie looked at Mister with tears in her eyes and a shaky little smile on her lips. “He double-dog dared.”

Silence rang around them. Even the breeze seemed to still, leaving the trees quiet and motionless.

Sunshine Smiles spoke first, her voice thick as tears streamed down her face. “He saved Black Clover?”

Eerie nodded, her brow tightening as she looked over at Mister. “You wanted to know how you got your cutie mark and what it meant, right?” She swallowed hard. “Do you need me to keep going? Or can we stop?”

Mister gazed at her thoughtfully. He looked next at his flank, then up at Scarlet Orange, his ears drooping. “But… I haven’t moved on!”

Scarlet gazed at him sympathetically. “It can be difficult for a ghost to truly know what they need to leave this mortal coil, hon.”

He looked at Eerie, his eyes large. “I thought learning what my cutie mark meant would be enough.” His face contorted with anguish. “Why isn’t that enough?”

Eerie sighed. She looked at Mister with great weariness. “You weren’t worried about your cutie mark at the time, Mister D. You were worried about your friend.”

“But… I saved him, right?”

Eerie looked away, unable to hold her gaze on his pitiful spirit. “You did.”

“Was he… okay?” she could hear his phantom tears, and she wished fervently that she could be dead. If only so her heart could stop hurting.

Eerie’s lips pursed and she closed her eyes. “I may as well finish the story, then.”

Mister only had to follow the screams. They spurred him, terrifying in their piercing clarity, driving him through the mud and water pools till he was shivering in filth. It wasn’t until Black Clover’s voice cut out abruptly that he halted, his heart loud in his ears. His coat of hair was slick with sweat.

Somehow, the silence was so much more terrible.

But he was not without hope. Barely ekeing through the powerful dark, he could make out a soft orange glow. Hugging the ground, he crept forward, his ears perked and turned to what lay ahead. The glow became clearer. Brighter.

Amidst the cinnamon ferns, he could see light filtering through the window of what appeared to be a tiny wooden shack. It took a moment, but Mister recognized it to be one of the various sites he and his friends played at during the day. It was a small cabin outpost built by settlers that had long been abandoned when the village had been established. He recalled his parents discussing that evening how the sheriff and his men had searched this place. Clearly the monster had returned after those hunting him had left.

And now he was holding Black Clover there.

Was he alive?

It hurt Mister’s stomach to think of the question, but he realized he needed to know before he did anything more foolish than he already was.

Scanning nervously around him, Mister moved forward with careful steps. When he reached the window, he reared up and peered inside.

His stomach dropped when he saw Black Clover on the floor of the cabin. He was tied up with thick rope, and dark blood pooled around his head. Mister stared, feeling faint, feeling like his breath would leave him forever as he wondered if Clover was alive. Then his friend twitched, his face contorting in pain. One eye opened, spying something in the corner. Mister felt bile rise up in his throat when he realized Clover’s other eye was but a gaping wound. The other colt curled up on the floor, and his good eye rolled shut again with an agonized, trembling squeeze.

Mister licked his dry lips. Even in the soup of fright that bubbled in his barrel, he still managed to feel relief his friend was still alive…but now what?

Clover couldn’t run, so even if Mister untied him, he’d likely just get captured again.

Then a large shadow moved across his friend. Mister’s eyes widened when he saw the monster, illuminated from behind by a fire lamp. He ducked, feeling the strength leave his limbs. He wasn’t sure he could bear to look again, let alone walk.

Except…the monster looked an awful lot like a pony. A stallion, to be exact.

Taking a deep breath, Mister dared to rise up and look again. His mouth fell open.

He was right. In the room with Black Clover was a tall dark unicorn stallion with shadow brown fur, a black mane, and a hulking figure. His body looked filthy and unkempt.

He paced across the floor, regarding Clover now and again, but mostly he stared down at his passing hooves as he tracked back and forth.

Mister could hear him talking to himself all the way.

“Can’t see,” he said, his voice a guttural growl. “Can’t see.”

Mister flinched when the stallion kicked Black Clover suddenly and viciously, screaming. “Damn your eyes! I still can’t see!”

He picked Clover up with his magic, the colt surrounded by his blood-red aura, and the stallion growled at him. “I suppose I need the other one, after all…”

Black Clover’s limp body came to life, his good eye snapping open wide as he arched and screamed. His eye…it was getting bigger. Almost as if it was being pulled out.

Mister didn’t really consider what he was doing. He just knew he couldn’t sit around and do nothing.

He shouted and slammed his hooves into the window.

The stallion whipped around, his aura vanishing from Clover and dropping him to the floor with a loud thud.

Mister quailed, backing away from the window.

The stallion approached, and his eyes were glowing.

“Who is there?” He rumbled, his eyes scanning outside.

Mister blinked at him, his body slowly unfurling from where he had cowered. He gazed at the stallion with wonder.

Was he…blind?

Mister took several steadying breaths. They hurt his lungs, he gulped them down so deep.

He could lure the stallion out. He could do it.

He could do it, he could do it!

He opened his mouth to say something. Anything.

As it happened, there was no need. The scoundrel looked down, his violent eyes glazed and rolling moist in their crusty sockets. His perked ears quivered in Mister’s direction. His black lips pulled back, revealing grimy rotted teeth. With a loud whinny, he smashed through the window and snapped at the colt with hungry lunges.

Mister finally found his voice and screamed, scrabbling to get away. White terror seized his thoughts, and he altogether forgot his goal.

The stallion squeezed through the window, glass shards shredding his sides bloody. “Come here!” he roared. “I’ll taste your sight yet!”

Mister fought his way to his hooves, every inch of him quivering. He dug his hooves into the dirt and took off as fast as he could for the trees. Behind him, he could hear the stallion give chase. His leg wasn’t injured like Clover’s had been, but that didn’t mean that Mister could outrun him.

Wait… Black Clover!

Mister whipped his head back to see the crazed stallion gaining on him. He took a sharp turn, using a tree surrounded by briar bushes to shield him from the incoming stallion. He swiveled stiffly and went the other way, tiptoeing to hide behind a jagged boulder jutting from the earth, but not before levitating a branch near the briar bushes with his magic and keeping it there.

This was an old tactic of his that he’d perfected from countless games of hide and seek tag.

The stallion went some hoofsteps in the opposite direction before realizing he couldn’t hear Mister anymore. He snarled, stomping the ground with his hooves before going still and listening.

Mister tried to creep back to the cabin. If he could untie Clover…

He heard the stallion starting toward him. Not chasing, but his hoofsteps sounded quick, like he suspected where Mister was.

In a panic, Mister snapped the branch he’d levitated.

His pursuer whirled around, returning toward the tree and briar bushes where Mister had given him the slip before.

This was his chance. There was enough distance between them. He could make it.

He could do it!

Mister sprinted, breathing raggedly. He made it to the cabin, leaping through the bloodied broken window, then crashing gracelessly on the other side.

Black Clover stirred, whimpering. Mister shoved a hoof over his muzzle. “Shh!” he hissed.

Picking up a glass shard, he cut the rope that bound his friend.

Outside, he could hear the stallion whicker and snort. Looking at his friend’s leg, Mister felt his stomach squeeze. Black Clover still wasn’t safe, but he was too hurt to run.

“Hide,” Mister hissed.

“Mister…?” Black Clover lifted his head, blood dripping from his hollow socket. His other eye was swelling shut as well.

“Hide!” Mister insisted before opening the cabin door and taking off again.

“Hey! You big galoot! Come get me!” Mister shouted to the fiend nearby.

The stallion reared back with a great whinny and brought his hooves back to the soil with a thunderous stomp. Drool slathered from his gnashing rotten teeth.

Mister just kept running. He knew he couldn’t make it back to the village before the stallion caught him. His only choice was to head to the creek that fed the swamp. He could lose him there. The water current was loud enough to muffle his sounds, and if push came to shove, he was an excellent swimmer. His ears perked. He thought he could hear other ponies shouting from far off. He couldn’t make out where they were coming from. They weren’t close enough to help. The stallion would catch him. He’d hurt him.

He had to keep running.

The stallion was closing in. He crashed through the swamp, tearing through the brush and sloshing noisily through the pools of swamp water.

The creek was in sight. Mister drove his legs as hard as he could, his hooves striking the passing earth with teeth chattering force. He could smell the brackish water. He could hear the effervescent gurgle of the current!

He screamed, leaping for the creek.

He could do–!

Something solid smashed into his head. Mister collided with the earth with ruthless force.

After that, there was only blinding pain.

Moonlight Raven watched Eerie shudder, her face contorting in grief and disgust.

“Did he make it?” Sunshine asked in a teeny voice.

“No,” Eerie said, looking down. “He didn’t make it.” She took a deep breath, her muzzle scrunched. “The stallion broke his hind legs, before ripping out both of his eyes and eating them. The voices Mister heard? They were the villagers closing in. His friend, Sweet Bug, had caved and told her dad what they were doing. Only… Only they didn’t make it. They arrived just in time to see the stallion throw Mister into the river to drown.”

“But he didn’t drown,” Sunshine whispered, hanging her head. Moonlight looked at her sidelong. It always made her wary when her sister’s shiny aura dimmed to a desolate gray. Like her sibling was invading her realm of darkness.

The veneer of sorrow ill-suited Sunshine Smiles.

Eerie gave one small shake of her head as she answered. “No. He didn’t.” She looked up at the place where Moonlight could feel Mister’s ghostly aura hovering nearby. It pulsed with fear…and pain.

Did the colt remember how he died? Could he feel his bones breaking? Taste the blood in his mouth?

Moonlight bit back a contemplative hum. She had experienced enough irate stares to gather that ponies didn’t appreciate it when she displayed anything but grief and dismay at such fascinating events. Not that she didn’t think it tragic that a foal was murdered so brutally. Then again, she thought existence itself was tragic, so what difference did it make in the end?

What intrigued her about Mister’s killer was what he seemed motivated by. Was he truly blind? What made him believe that foal eyes would restore his vision?

“The villagers subdued the stallion. Mister… He was carried away by the currents for a quarter of a mile before they finally caught him.” Eerie wiped a tear away from her face. “His mother wrapped him in his favorite blanket and held him as he died.”

“It wasn’t rain,” Sunshine squeaked through tears. She looked at Moonlight, the fur on her face matted with her grief. “Ravey, the last thing Mister felt was his mother’s tears.”

Moonlight couldn’t help but smile a little. Such a beautiful tragedy.

“Is this funny to you?” Eerie snarled, her ears pinning.

Moonlight shook her head, looking at her with her usual hooded gaze. “No. But as far as deaths go, at least he was held by somepony who loved him.”

Eerie considered this for a moment before dropping her gaze. “I suppose.”

They sat in silence for a while.

When she thought enough time for the others to process their feelings had passed, Moonlight raised a steady hoof. “What happened to the killer?” her voice maintained its even composure. This was not something she would expend her chi on.

“They hung him,” Eerie sneered. “Right then and there. He’d been terrorizing the countryside, killing foals and consuming their eyes for months. He’d been captured and was on his way to Canterlot for imprisonment when he escaped the guards to the swamps near Mister’s village.”

She looked up, her ears perking as her ghostly companions said something to her. Her eyes softened. “Yes, Mister. You saved Black Clover. He lost an eye, but he was alive.” Her brow furrowed. “Is he… still alive?” She shrugged. “I think so?” Now her eyes widened. “You want to what?”

“He wants to see him, doesn’t he?” Moonlight asked, her ears swiveling forward with interest.

“Yeah,” Eerie eyed her sideways, her gaze narrowed with distrust. “Why?”

Moonlight raised an eyebrow, the smallest hints of a smirk on her lips. “I think I can help.”

Author's Note

Back after two years! Boy that feels good.

This really was the thing that stopped this story from continuing. I wasn't really sure how to go about detailing Mister Double's past. Ultimately, I'm still dissatisfied with it, but I don't regret my decision to gloss over his actual death. Ya'll don't need that, and neither do I.

Anyway, if you're new here, hi! Thanks for joining my strange little story. If you're a returning reader, welcome back. No matter who you are, I would really appreciate some comments. They help me stay motivated. Whether you do or not, thanks for reading.

Happy Halloween!

The Mortician Who Dwelled in Darkness

When people met Moonlight Raven, they more or less thought they had her figured out. They were wrong. Even her own white-bread parents were wrong. There were only a hoofful of souls who had some idea of the kind of pony she was, and they still didn't have the whole picture.

An apathetic goth?

A black sheep?

A creepy eccentric?

Partial truths, nothing more.

Sunshine Smiles was the one creature who had the deepest understanding of Moonlight's nature. When the sunny mare delicately attempted to explain it to others, usually anyone who was bewildered or consternated by Moonlight's behavior, the typical response was, “What? Her? I knew she was different, but I didn't sense any of that!”

Then, eventually, they'd hear things. Rumors, really. But harrowing rumors, nevertheless. And they'd stare at Moonlight as one would stare into a dark and threatening cave. That’s usually when ponies started whispering about recent unsolved murders and the like.

Gag her with a spoon. Creatures could be so dimwitted, they actually gave her a headache.

But she had to admit, the whispers weren’t for nothing. Moonlight hadn't ended up in therapy merely because she was disagreeable with her parents. She hadn't been some petulant foal or an angst-ridden filly.

She'd been a subverter. A reckoner. A fucking knife.

Oh yes. She’d been troubled. Much of her youth was spent feeling perpetually vexed by all the unenlightened and weak ponies around her. She’d let off steam by talking to her sister, collecting dead animals for taxidermy, and… y’know. Setting things on fire. As you do.

Moonlight lay in bed, her black silk sheets feeling cool and luxurious against her hide. In the corner, a wooden clock hung on the wall, its body carved in the likeness of a sinister gargoyle. She listened to its steady ticking. At that moment, she meditated briefly on the relentless march of time, herding all on this plane towards death. When would hers come? She wondered.

Some ponies felt existential dread. Not her. She didn’t have any lingering regrets, nor did she fear saying goodbye to Sunshine or this life. Why should she? They were all going to the same place anyway. But she supposed if she had to do her existence over again, she definitely had some notes.

Moonlight blinked slowly up at the ceiling as she thought of her younger years.

As a filly, she’d been on the cusp of being kicked out of school and sent away. Celestia herself had sat down with Moonlight and her parents for a grim meeting regarding some…incidents that had occurred at school. After a fruitless conversation with Moonlight’s clueless caretakers, Celestia had pulled Moonlight aside to talk. The princess’ aura had been stern, but caring and patient.

Knowing.

After nearly an hour of deep and honest conversation with Moonlight, Celestia’s ageless eyes had looked the goth up and down with a solemn expression. The filly had stared back at her impassively, unashamed of the things she’d admitted. Instead, she’d simply wondered, what was it like, being immortal?

It seemed such a shame to be so far removed from death. Celestia was sun, light, and life. She certainly wasn’t invulnerable, and even during that conversation Moonlight couldn’t help but imagine what Celestia’s bloodless corpse would look like… But if harm came to the princess, then the shadows would lose their meaning, surely. Because without light, what became of the dark? Even night needed its moonlight.

So Moonlight had asked, and Celestia’s answer was to quietly lead her to the school’s library.

There, Celestia produced a book on Eastern philosophy and explained that her commitment to duty and order could be understood through the teachings of Neighjing scholars.

“And so too, I think, will these philosophies help you, Moonlight,” Celestia had told the young goth. Her magenta gaze glowed with radiant power at that moment, making Moonlight’s withers tighten. "For you have a choice,” Celestia murmured, bending her long graceful neck to stare levelly at her student. “You can choose to destroy your life along with those of the ponies around you, and in so doing, reap the consequences of your actions…” The princess’ expression softened. “Or you can find a way to live in concert with the world. In harmony.”

Moonlight had only blinked at the princess in response, at first. Her brow furrowed over tensed eyes. Ponies had tried to “help” her before. She wasn’t sure what made this so different. But something about Celestia’s powerful presence—not just mere confidence, but inevitability—pushed her to open the book. And so Moonlight had read. And read…

And read.

It had been a revelation. A new way forward. Thanks to her princess and headmaster’s suggestion, and by her own diligent study, she had transformed herself into something that both fit her values and somehow managed to jive with society. Mostly. It had been enough for her, at any rate. And it had been enough for everyone else, too. Her parents had thrown away the boarding school brochures, and Celestia had never felt the need to speak to her again.

Moonlight had graduated among the top five of her graduating class. She still couldn’t remember any of her fellow classmates’ names. They didn’t matter, blind sheep that they were.

Still. It would be nice to be better understood. Nice. Not necessary. As she saw it, having a small circle that comprehended her shadowy nature was the ideal and limit. If she could become friends with Eerie Lantern, she'd probably draw the line there. But if others understood her underlying beliefs for why she lived life the way she did, which was still only a surface understanding of who she really was, even that would streamline her dealings with others. But actually bothering to get others to comprehend…?

Moonlight was pretty sure it was easier to spank a shaved monkey into singing an aria.

Case in point: whenever she made the rare mistake of attempting to explain chi to somepony not in the know, Moonlight Raven was stared at as though she were crazy. Universal power? Life force? Vital energy? Predictably, most ponies just didn’t get it. Many wandered off in the middle of her speech. The ones who were too polite to do that just asked moronic questions.

Did she perhaps mean unicorn magic? The power of cutie marks?

Sorry, quick question—maybe rude, but they were curious—was she on medication??

Moonlight would change the subject. Or, y’know, just stop talking and leave, because hey, not dealing with idiots was always a swell choice.

Freaking hoof-sucking plebeians.

Like… okay. She supposed she wasn’t very good at explaining things. She didn’t talk to others much besides her sister. Sunshine may have been annoying and naïve, but she wasn’t dumb.

Still, as Moonlight Raven rose from her small dark bed—her room fragrant with the scents of frankincense and myrrh, the surroundings thick with evening shadow—she pondered a better way of phrasing her understanding of Eastern philosophy. This was an effort she usually reserved solely for her sister, but she was actually trying to expand her circle. Even now, despite the setbacks of yesterday. Because as precarious as her position with Eerie Lantern was at the moment, she felt there was still a chance for understanding. Otherwise, the skittish unicorn would never have accepted Moonlight’s help.

So Moonlight began her day—or rather, night—stretching on her mauve shag rug with a few yoga poses as she tried to think of the most succinct explanation. After all, you never knew. She may actually get a chance to say it. And opportunity favored a ready mind, right?

Moonlight’s eyes narrowed as she moved through sphinx, cobra, upward dog, and downward dog. Then, she transitioned straight into a thread-the-needle pose. All the while, she thought…

When used in a broad sense, chi was simply a general term referring to the natural forces of the universe. Like wind and earth. It wasn’t strictly referring to life, but it did fuel existence and shape the world as all ponies knew it. And when referred to living beings, like ponies? It specifically meant biological energy. Breaking down the ancient Neighjing character for chi (氣), you find the pictographs for “air” (气) and “rice” (米). Through a scientific lens, all this was defining was the process by which chi was produced via oxygen and glucose.

She was literally referring to kilocalories of energy. Biological electricity. That was all. It made it sound a lot less bitchin’, if she was being honest, but the universe had plenty of mysteries without answers. This didn’t need to be one of them.

Or maybe it could be? It wasn’t as if Moonlight didn’t have some pride in her dark mystique. She was just weary sometimes. Weary of the misunderstandings. She’d been content to be alone for the rest of her life, save her sister, but she knew life could be cruel and any horrible accident could whisk Sunshine away, leaving her truly alone. Morbid thoughts, yes, but that was just who Moonlight was.

Did that fully explain her protectiveness of Sunshine? Maybe.

Moonlight slunk over to her black vanity dresser and gazed at her silhouette in the mirror.

Never mind that her sibling was absent-minded, annoyingly optimistic, and almost the exact opposite of who Moonlight was. What mattered, what really mattered, was that Sunshine tried to understand. Sometimes she even managed to. The other important thing? She kept Moonlight from being bored out of her freaking mind.

Sure, totally. Darkness was sick and all, but the void was something else. That was unrivaled nothingness.

It was more a personal concept for Moonlight and not a universally accepted use of the term. When she thought of the void, she imagined a state of existence. A cage of isolation and monotony so dense you’d need to smoke a pipe or quaff a drug elixir just to inoculate yourself from the endlessness of it. Which was precisely how she’d dealt with it the last time her sister had to leave for a weeklong training seminar in Vanhoover.

So, yes. Sometimes Sunshine could be a real pain in the flank. But the trouble was worth it to keep the void at bay. Without these important functions, she had to admit that she’d probably not speak to her sister at all.

Moonlight sighed heavily, her normally coiffed mane lacking its signature curl as it drooped into her amber eyes. Her horn lit up with her deep soft blue aura, gently illuminating a small sphere around her in the gloom as she picked up her brush from the vanity and began to comb her hair.

She loved her sister. She did… In her own black and pragmatic way.

Because Sunshine kept Moonlight from being bored. Because she understood chi. Because she helped to pay the rent. Because she tried to understand. Because she cooked good food. Because she could be possessed by ghosts in a way that Moonlight couldn’t.

Actually, that last point caused a rare flare-up of envy in Moonlight. She’d tried allowing herself to be possessed once, back when she was much younger, and had underestimated the amount of energy the effort required. It hadn’t gone well. Something about the deep darkness that made up her soul made her unappealing to ghosts looking to experience the vibrancy of life.

Whatever. Moonlight didn’t need to be possessed to interact with the afterlife. She could sense their energy in ways that even Sunshine couldn’t, after all. She just couldn’t interface with them directly. It wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t.

She continued to repeat this thought as she set her brush down and stared across the blackness of her room toward her bedroom door. She envisioned Sunshine Smiles hanging from the door’s coat hook fixture, her nostrils dripping blood, her tongue lolling out, and her bloodshot eyes bugged.

Moonlight took a deep breath and sighed again, a deeper exhale to exorcise herself of the terrible image.

The ideas came to her, unbidden. Sometimes she found them mildly amusing. Other times they agitated her. But did she ever feel disturbed? No. She knew this was just the manifestation of the underworld speaking through her. She’d always resisted it.

It was one thing to love the dark. It was another thing to let the dark rule you.

This was another large reason she was conservative of her chi. The Neighjing healers of old had once interpreted biological electricity as a type of living fire. It turned out they weren't quite right, but it was appropriate for the analogy she used to remind herself.

If Moonlight unleashed her living fire, she’d burn everything.

She didn’t feel most emotions like others did. Like, she felt them, all right? But it was just different. Muted. So when she was younger, she’d learned to feign them, to try and put others more at ease. To try and fit in. Not that it had mattered. She’d been shunned by society anyway.

That used to make her angry, but now she was indifferent. Society was comprised of fools, and their laws were like a security blanket they drew around themselves. It didn’t save them from the mysteries of the universe. It didn’t save them from death, that thing normies were too afraid to contemplate. To even acknowledge.

Other ponies were bugs, and she didn’t care to spend energy on the unenlightened. But sometimes, they did earn her ire.

Anger and depression needed controlling and managing. These things she could feel without trouble, and keenly, too. She was good at controlling these emotions now. Not that her sister thought this was enough.

Sunshine suspected that Moonlight suffered from an imbalance of chakras. It was from a different school of thought than the one the goth followed, but Moonlight was familiar with it from her own studies. It had its own merits, she supposed.

Moonlight’s anahata, swadishtana, and mooladhara chakras were weak. These were the chakras that governed love and forgiveness, sexuality and power, and family and social belonging. Moonlight couldn’t disagree, because she was lacking in all these things.

Though she’d argued with her sister some about her swadishtana chakra. Surely Moonlight had some power? She just chose not to exercise it. After all, thanks to her efforts to fit in as a foal, she’d learned to observe others. She could imitate patterns of speech. Certain mannerisms.

All right, fine, maybe her smiles were a bit rusty, but if she thought hard, Moonlight could figure out the right things to say to get ponies to do what she wanted. Sometimes, she didn’t even need to bother with the false charm. She could just leverage the right information.

In the present, Moonlight picked up the brush again with her aura and began to comb her tail, her expression impassive as she recalled the concerned look on her sister’s face when she’d said that. Sunshine had quietly and gently explained to her, with just the tiniest quiver in her voice, that manipulating others was not a power to aspire to. Moonlight had pursed her lips, but ceased her arguments. Sunshine was right, of course. Moonlight knew she was right.

Manipulating ponies was troublesome. It was hard keeping all the lies straight, and it took too much effort to scare them into compliance. It was far more beneficial to speak the truth and abide by laws… As annoying and stupid as Moonlight thought society’s laws were.

When Moonlight had taken to heart the teachings of Neighjing philosophers and scholars, her life had improved. At least in that she was not inconvenienced as much. The teachings of ancient ponies gave her a clearer understanding of others. And herself.

Fire and water had chi, but lacked life. Trees and grass had life, but lacked perceptivity. Birds and beasts had perceptivity, but lacked a sense of right and wrong, of duty and justice—in other words, yi. Ponies and other intelligent creatures had chi, and perceptivity, and yi. Though, this last one, she struggled with.

She had a sense of duty. Yeah. Justice? Sure, totally. Right and wrong? Uh… Yes. She did. Kind of. In the way that she knew doing something “right” would earn her a thank you and maybe even a reciprocal favor, and that doing something “wrong” would earn her jail and fines.

In other words, she gained opportunity one way, and inconvenience the other way. That was how Moonlight saw it. Opportunity versus inconvenience. That was all.

So if she could get away with it…? “It” being whatever she thought she had a right to do?

Even then she usually still refrained. Mostly because she knew that the truth had a way of revealing itself. That, and Sunshine would be upset with her if she found out the goth had crossed lines. Moonlight didn’t want to lose her sibling.

Sunshine was such a good roommate. And she could be possessed by ghosts. That was cool.

Though her sister had already caught Moonlight before in the middle of perpetrating something unlawful. Just a few times. Tiny infractions, really.

Pouring a mild poison into a teacher’s coffee mug. Trying to set fire to a rude merchant’s stall. Pushing a bully down a flight of stairs.

That last one had been for Sunshine. The colt had been spreading rumors about her. Moonlight’s sister didn’t really care for the justification and angrily made her younger sibling turn herself in. After they’d levitated the bully to the nurse’s office, that is. Moonlight had to explain she wasn’t trying to kill him.

Puh-lease. As if five steps of stairs were enough to murder somepony. What was with everyone? Were they idiots?

If Moonlight had wanted to kill him, there were far more efficient ways of going about it.

That argument hadn’t really gone over well, though.

No. She’d never murdered anyone. Thought about it? Fine. Yeah. So what? Who didn’t think about that now and again? Maybe, she thought about it more than others. The darkness that billowed out from her black heart was powerful sometimes, okay?

Sheep dreamt of grass. Predators dreamt of blood. It was just how the world worked.

Sunshine hadn’t talked to Moonlight for three days over that debacle. The goth had never been so bored before. And annoyed. Like, woah, overreact much?

Still… She’d needed to make better use of her perceptivity. She’d needed to cultivate her sense of yi. It was important to remember, always: opportunity versus inconvenience. So Moonlight had learned. And from that, she’d grown.

But there had definitely been growing pains. She’d revealed too much of her otherness before. Been a little too honest about her thoughts. And as practiced as she was now at self-control, that didn’t mean she didn’t still lose it every once in a while.

Last year she’d poisoned a stallion for making Sunshine Smiles cry. It’d caused him violent diarrhea. In public.

That had earned her both a night in jail and a court-ordered run of intense therapy, which in turn led to a hateful run of medications. More overreactions. The poison had been non-lethal. Still, Sunshine had stayed with friends for a week out of objection to her sister’s actions and… maybe also out of a little fear? Sunshine Smiles insisted that she knew Moonlight wouldn’t hurt her, but…

Ugh. The boredom that brought. Such inconvenience.

During her court hearing, their parents had pleaded for the court’s mercy. “Moonlight Raven has a condition, your honor! She has anti-social personality disorder!” they’d cried.

Those morons really thought they’d been helping by revealing her private medical history to the general public.

Tartarus, she really freaking loathed that they’d done that. So much so that she’d wished bats would eat their eyes. Only… Shit, they didn’t do that kind of thing, did they? Darn. Well. She’d settle for some guano getting crapped on their ignorant heads. Or shedding fur on their food. Whatever.

In lieu of her bat-themed revenge, Moonlight had left some roadkill on her parents’ front porch. To this day they still weren’t on speaking terms. That, she could live with.

As Moonlight worked through a knot in her tail with her brush, her eyes turned up to her dark ceiling in thought. The carved gargoyle clock ticked away somberly, the sound filling the room.

What had she left on the porch again? Ah, of course. She remembered the raccoon whose face had been gnawed and rotted away. The corpse had already been desiccated the day she’d deposited it, with patches of fur falling out, leaving its odor of death not so overpowering. It was not so bad until one beheld the creature’s rictus grin.

Moonlight’s lips tilted up a little as she ran the brush through her tail without any more resistance, the soft glow of her aura illuminating her macabre amusement.

For a little while, before that stupidity with the court and the rehab, it had looked like she was escaping her past reputation. Sure, the ponies of Canterlot still remembered, but she worked in a far-flung suburb known as Barley’s End. There, she’d been simply known as a somewhat spooky eccentric.

Not a vengeful sociopath with violent ideations who collected dead things.

She’d been that way more in her youth, when she was wasteful with her chi and invested in misguided campaigns to get back at anyone who hurt her or Sunshine. She didn’t feel ashamed of her past actions. But the consequence of her past being spread to the people of Barley’s End meant that she was refused business.

There had been a baker she’d liked to purchase loaves from on her way home from work. Now he refused to even let her in the store.

Opportunity versus inconvenience. That was all she saw.

Moonlight supposed if she’d really wanted a fresh start, she could have moved somewhere else, farther away. Maybe Fillydelphia or Manehattan. She’d even find it interesting to pioneer the Badlands now that the Storm King was no longer in power. Rumor was the lands were nearly lawless, and the corpses she could examine… Sometimes she daydreamed about going there.

But that needed so much chi, not just in the moving, but in the forging of new relationships. Even in her anti-social existence, she was still aware that connections were useful and sometimes profitable. Moonlight was poor in those. Still, she had a hoof-full of functional, if not warm, working partnerships.

Her boss, Morticia Mane, did not mind Moonlight’s nature, being somewhat grim herself. They didn’t talk much unless strictly necessary. The emergency medical ponies, or EMPs, who shuttled in bodies from around the hamlet and from deeper within Canterlot—Flash Responder and Swift Aid—were clearly wary of her, but they kept it professional. There was also Booksmart, a librarian at the Canterlot Library who dutifully assisted Moonlight in finding books for her metaphysical research. The older mare only ever looked askance at her when she checked out a plethora of true crime and anatomy books.

But none of them were friends. Not one of them was somepony she felt she could trust on any level outside of their working functions.

Sunshine was different. Sometimes, Moonlight felt what she thought others called love for her annoying sibling. And so too, Moonlight had hoped—still hoped—Eerie Lantern could be her companion in darkness.

Moonlight’s brow tensed as she finished styling her mane and tail. She began applying her makeup, still only using the glow of her magical aura as a light source. She barely needed it, really. While her style was “on point” as Sunshine would say, it hadn’t changed since she’d graduated from Celestia’s School of Magic. Changing one’s appearance all the time took too much energy. A frivolous pursuit. Moonlight could still look nice and preserve her time thanks to her practiced routine.

She aspired to a timeless elegance, akin to the stillness of the dead.

Eerie would have understood that. Moonlight had sensed it first from her aura, and it had been confirmed by the mare’s own morbid words. Eerie didn’t want to be of the living. She wanted to be one with the dead. But she was held fast by her yi, her sense of duty, to remain alive. How else could she help other ghosts? It was a conundrum Moonlight could sympathize with.

“Such a tragic burden,” she murmured in the darkness. With practiced ease, she traced a thick line of eyeliner.

She put the finishing touches on her makeup with some powder on her muzzle and set down her applicator brush. She gazed at her silhouette as the magic faded from her horn.

Moonlight felt something stir in her chest. Wistfulness. Longing.

That strange and skittish mare, Eerie Lantern… She could understand her. She could. They shared so many things in common.

So then how had yesterday’s lunch date gone so wrong?

She supposed it was her fault. Inviting herself over had been the first misstep. She’d been impulsive. She should’ve watched Eerie first. Maybe followed her home and listened at the windows… Though, Moonlight supposed, the ghosts would have spotted her and warned Eerie.

No, on second thought, she should have tried to emulate Sunshine more. Gone slower. Been more ingratiating. Moonlight could never bring herself to be as shiny as her sister, but she could feign charm when necessary. Only…

Moonlight snorted softly. That hadn’t been the point, had it? Why present a facade if what she’d truly wanted was to find someone who could understand and tolerate her darkness the way Sunshine did? She’d wanted somepony she could be herself with. Not more lies. Not more wasteful effort to cultivate fake relationships.

But Eerie Lantern was not just afraid of the living, she also didn’t trust them. Another sentiment Moonlight could sympathize with.

Only, how could she overcome such a barrier? Without guile and manipulation, Moonlight was bereft of her usual tactics. She’d been ready to give up right then and there upon encountering it. After all, changing hearts and minds was not her strong suit. No, she capitalized on others’ goals, bending them to suit her own.

But then that little ghost, Mister Double… he’d…

Moonlight lifted her head, took another deep breath to steady her resolve, then left her bedroom.

Mister had inadvertently given her another chance. In recognition of this, she vowed to bring him peace. She was alive and could do what he could not, and even in her limited supernatural sense she could perceive his suffering. Most importantly, her sense of duty, however faint, compelled her to act.

It was the right thing to do. A worthy cause to expend her precious energy for.

It was an opportunity. Not an inconvenience. Not to her.

She was on-call at the funeral home from midnight to noon. The place also served as a coroner’s office for Barley’s End and the surrounding villages, whenever the sheriff required it. By choice, she’d spent a lot of that time at the funeral home. A long stint, sure, sometimes leaving her with not much to do but finish paperwork and ensure the bodies didn’t jump up and run away. It wasn’t like she spent every waking second there. But she preferred the company of the dead. When not engaged with work, she used the time to study the metaphysical, biology, and forensic science.

After her run-in with the law last year, Moonlight had been limiting how much extra time she spent at the morgue. Morticia may have been grim, but Moonlight was sure she’d object to her spending so much time with corpses unsupervised. To avoid that issue, she’d reluctantly kept her distance.

Not that she did anything untoward with the corpses, like, ever. She wasn’t a pervert.

But Moonlight did like to pull them out of the magically refrigerated drawers and just…gaze at them. She’d cast the same spell she’d used on the small creatures she’d once collected as a child, and with great relish, she’d experience their last moments. Ponies provided much more vivid sensations and even sometimes foggy visions.

Not all the deaths were terribly interesting. A lot of staring at the ceiling while loved ones cried around your death bed. Some deaths hurt too much, thrilling as they were. Others were tragic, and these were her favorite. They were beautiful agony. The last wretched petals spiraling from the fragrant bloom of a pony’s life.

Could she have such an exquisite final chapter written for her life? Moonlight didn’t know. That’d be cool, she guessed. Except that sort of required having actual relationships, however tumultuous. She wasn’t very good at the whole social thing, yet.

At least there would always be her sister…

Sunshine was asleep upstairs. Moonlight wasn’t worried about waking her—ironically enough, her sister slept like a corpse—but she had business at the funeral home. Morticia had gotten in touch with her just before bedtime in the afternoon. An elder pony in the area wasn’t given much longer to live. The family expected them to pass overnight. Her boss would meet with the EMPs who would bring the body in, then if there was nothing out of the ordinary, she’d return home and leave Moonlight to prepare the body for burial herself.

Moonlight didn’t show it, but she was excited. She wanted to savor that anticipation in peace, but…

Eating breakfast in the middle of the night was usually a quiet affair. That didn’t necessarily mean peaceful. Moonlight was resigned to the fact that true peace would only ever be found in the depths of nature when the sun was gone or waning, or when sealed away in the confines of her shadowy room, meditating on the mysteries of existence. But even here in the breakfast nook she shared with her sister, Moonlight was not alone.

Behind her, picture frames and plant pots levitated into the air as a floating duster swept around the shelves. Their ghostly guest.

Moonlight chewed her oatmeal and blueberries carefully, staring ahead at nothing. Then the glossy finish on the table fogged up and words appeared on the dark mahogany surface.

Forgive me for disturbing your breakfast, Miss Raven, but I was curious how your lunch date went yesterday.

Moonlight sighed. She’d wipe the words away with her foreleg, but she refrained. It was a wasted effort, and rude, she knew. “Ask Sunshine,” she muttered before taking another languid bite of her food.

The words disappeared on their own; then new words appeared.

I’m afraid Miss Smiles wouldn’t tell me. The poor thing seemed rather sad. Did things go awry?

“You could say that,” Moonlight replied, her voice somehow going even flatter than usual.

Ah, I see. I am very sorry to hear that, miss. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to ask. I will leave you to eat your meal in peace. Good evening.

Moonlight’s eyes tensed a fraction. It wouldn’t be noticeable to anypony apart from Sunshine and the unseen presence she was speaking to.

Setting her spoon down, the goth pony turned her head toward the place where the duster was now carefully sweeping over a large antique vase.

“Steadfast Harmony.”

The feather duster paused, then floated over to hover near her. Words appeared on the table again.

Yes, Miss Raven? How may I serve you?

“Stop bending and scraping, Steady. It’s a drag. Sunshine’s told you before, you’re not our servant.” Moonlight’s ear flicked, once, a small sign of her displeasure as she stared levelly at the spot near the feather duster. A tingling aura, one belonging to a unicorn spirit, lingered near her. Moonlight didn’t literally see any ghost auras. She knew exactly where they were, though, purely by feeling. Like a wind blowing from a certain direction, or sunlight warming you from a specific side. The spiritual energy tickled her mind.

The reply on the table was swift.

I am in debt to you both for freeing me. I choose to express my respect and appreciation for you through deference and service, miss. That is all. It was, after all, my greatest talent in life.

Moonlight couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Fine. I guess.”

Steadfast Harmony. A middle-aged unicorn from Trottingham. Her spirit was tied to an antique standing mirror that Sunshine had found two years ago during a rare vacation to the large city. Steadfast had worked as a maid for what appeared to be most of her life, though they had yet to sort out all the details of her past existence.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t find the answers. Steadfast had insisted they not trouble themselves. Why? Because she already had an idea of how she’d died.

The final thoughts that Steadfast had been repeating within the confines of her anchor was:

Why me? Why would he—wait… Who is that?!

Cold-blooded murder. Clearly. But Steadfast was disinclined to uncover the details or even explore any living relatives she may yet have to visit.

Not that lugging around a heavy carved standing mirror would have been easy, and long term possession was tricky for someone even as practiced as Sunshine, but nevertheless, Moonlight and Sunshine had offered.

It was nice to have someone to clean the house, Moonlight supposed. She just disliked the stuffy formality.

And the hovering.

“The lunch date, like, went south. Hard,” she went on to her ghostly companion. She turned her attention back to her food, her magic lifting the spoon for another bite of oatmeal. She chewed calmly but with a smidge more energy. Moonlight wasn’t so concerned with etiquette usually, but she knew that Steady hated it when she talked with her mouth full. Also, she’d have to eat faster if she was going to get sucked into a conversation and still leave when she wanted to.

After swallowing, she continued. “We got there, but it turned out Eerie Lantern wasn’t really interested in having guests. She was trying to scare us away with her ghost friends when one of them, a little colt, couldn’t resist Sunshine’s aura and possessed her.”

Oh dear.

Moonlight gave a slight nod. “One of Eerie’s ghosts started making books fly all over the place, big ones, so I grabbed Sunshine and we ran. But the colt ghost was still in my sister. I didn’t realize it till we’d made it to the pumpkin patch. I was going to expel him, but Sunshine regained control and stopped me.”

Were either of them at risk of fusing together?

That was the phenomenon as they had come to call it. Eerie and her ghosts called it melding. They also had a different name for the objects or locations that ghosts tended to be tied to. Haunts. Moonlight and Sunshine had taken to calling them anchors, but she had to admit, haunts sounded appropriately mystical. She resolved to start using the term right away. Plagiarism was a form of flattery, she was pretty sure.

“Sunshine had it in control,” Moonlight said in answer to Steadfast’s question. “But then Eerie showed up.”

She made herself a few minutes late explaining the rest of it. But unless she received an urgent messenger, it was probably fine. She detailed to her ghostly companion the confrontation with Eerie. The telling of Mister Double’s demise. And then… Moonlight’s offer to help.

Steadfast was particularly keen about that.

That was very generous of you, Miss Raven. I may not be familiar with this poor colt, but you have my thanks for taking up his cause. I knew that ghostly foals must exist somewhere, but to hear his tale brings much sorrow to my dead heart.

Moonlight rose from her seat and levitated her now empty bowl to the kitchen sink. She blinked dispassionately at the place where she felt Steady’s spirit linger. “His dark death was interesting to hear, and without him, I wouldn’t have a way to get on Eerie’s good side. It’s worth the effort just for that.”

She glanced at the table to see if Steadfast had anything else to say. When nothing came, Moonlight turned to fetch her saddlebag. She’d already packed a modest bag of bits, a small lunch, and two books inside. One was a history book. The other was a true crime novel. Given the expected death tonight, she figured sitting in the morgue wouldn’t be as big a deal this time around. It had been a few weeks since she’d had an adequate reason and she was glad for the excuse.

Just as she was fastening the straps against her barrel, she felt a cold tap on her shoulder. Blinking, Moonlight turned her head.

In the corner of the room sat Steadfast’s standing mirror. It had once resided in Sunshine’s room, but out of an effort to give the ghost more access to their home it had been moved to the living room.

Steadfast’s spirit was next to it now, and her aura was not just tingling, it was prickling. The reflective glass fogged suddenly, and words appeared on the mirror’s face, written much more slowly than before.

Miss Raven, forgive my impudence, but I feel I must ask. You truly do intend to help the colt, don’t you? Perhaps doing this may benefit your own goals, but even if Eerie Lantern made it clear she wanted nothing to do with you afterward, you would still assist him, yes?

Moonlight considered the words for a short moment. Then she nodded. “Yeah. It’s, like, a matter of duty. Y’know?”

I do. Then I wish you great success. And if there is anything I may do to assist you in this endeavor, I fervently hope that you would call on me.

The goth nodded, then left the house.

Steadfast was aware of Moonlight’s mental condition. Unlike other ghosts they’d briefly hosted in the past, she hadn’t been as disconcerted by it. In the beginning, she’d been wary, but after two years she was mostly at ease with her. Mostly. Moonlight did notice that Steadfast always seemed to be around when she was in the vicinity of the standing mirror. Was she worried that Moonlight might suddenly decide to destroy it? She couldn’t really begrudge the caution, even if it was a useless concern.

Moonlight would never destroy a ghost’s anchor. Why would she? That would be such a stupid waste of chi, and completely counterproductive to her interests. She wanted to know what the afterlife was like. You couldn’t do that if you snuffed out ghosts like candles.

The unfortunate business with Mister Double notwithstanding. She hadn’t realized he was a colt, first of all, and second of all, she’d had no idea where his anchor—no, his haunt had been. How could she have known that ejecting him out of Sunshine so far from Eerie’s house could have destroyed him? At the time it had really felt like they’d been under genuine attack. All that screaming… And those books that had been flying around at high speed had been big. Really big.

Moonlight felt a flicker of irritation, and her withers tightened a fraction with sudden defensiveness. No. She didn’t murder people and she didn’t destroy ghosts. Not on purpose, anyway.

It was inconvenient. Too inconvenient. There was more opportunity if you left others unharmed. What was so hard to understand about that? Did others take her for a fool?

But maybe Steadfast really did understand. She was just being practical. After all, how did you behave around a predator? Only an idiot would turn their back on a tiger.

And with that, Moonlight felt centered again.

As Steady had explained, many years ago, Trottingham’s nobility had once known a number of lords and ladies afflicted with, what she’d called, “predatory temperaments.” The way she’d told it, they went one of two ways: either they became cruel and bloodthirsty war leaders, or they were cold and ruthless politicians.

Those had been different times, and Moonlight could respect both paths.

She supposed, in a lot of ways, she was still trying to figure out her path in life. Society may have come to tolerate her presence, but she was still an outsider. She still lacked a sense of belonging. Somehow, she knew this was what Celestia had really challenged her to find. A place in society.

But could there ever be such a place for one as twisted as her?

The crisp night air gripped her, and Moonlight took a bracing breath, as she trotted at a brisk pace down the paved road. She didn’t mind the cold. Deep in the reaches of unlife, she was sure that existence was frigid. Steadfast Harmony reported feeling nothing except the chill of death.

Moonlight felt sure her hardiness in low temperatures was another sign of her alien nature. She didn’t respond to the cold like other ponies did. During the winter, Sunshine forced herself to get up in the middle of the night just to ensure that her sister was properly protected from the cold before she left for her nightly work shifts.

In the past, Sunny’d had to drag in her younger-by-a-minute sibling in from the snow, half-frozen to death, all because Moonlight had spent too long meditating about the cold supernatural existence that awaited them on the other side.

That was another thing Sunshine was good for. Keeping Moonlight from careening into the shadows she so loved.

The walk to Barley’s End was a decent one. Not terribly long, but not so short, either. It was located at the base of Canterlot’s mountain. She passed by sparse collections of homes and businesses built on the cliffs, and in some cases, abodes built into the mountain itself. Over the years, Canterlot had grown. Soon these scattered dwellings would be connected to become another suburb. But for now, Barley’s End was Canterlot’s first and only true suburb.

And it was deathly quiet in the cobbled roads. Moonlight slowed down a little to appreciate the way Luna’s moonlight cast long shadows that twisted into tormentous shapes across the streets. She passed by the local blacksmith’s, the forges dark and empty. She passed by the Foam Head, the local tavern. She stopped to eye the wooden stocks in the heart of the town’s plaza.

They didn’t used to be a normal fixture for the hamlet, but after an incident last year with the town’s resident tinker pony, Silver Spanner, the stocks were now rolled out for short term lesser punishments regularly. It seemed they’d been used recently and the town’s sheriff had neglected to put the stocks away. Moonlight lamented that no one was ever kept overnight, but she did get a ghoulish pleasure whenever she saw the latest unfortunate fool to end up trapped this way. Usually, it was in the afternoon on her way home from work after a long night shift.

Canterlot had taken objection to the stocks' implementation. Something about it reflecting badly on them. Cruel and unusual punishment. Whatever. Moonlight didn’t care about irrelevant politics.

She just loved how wicked cool the thing looked, silhouetted by the moon.

When she arrived at the mortuary, she felt mildly annoyed to see Morticia Mane waiting inside for her.

Morticia was a dark purple unicorn with a long dark mane that draped over her neck and swept to mid-leg. Like Moonlight, she had heavy eye makeup, but whereas the goth preferred a colorless lip gloss, Morticia favored a matte blood-red lipstick. Moonlight’s employer was also dressed in a slim black dress, no train this time, but she’d seen Morticia in outfits that featured as much along with dark sequins that glittered. For funeral showings or meetings with clients. Now? She was dressed practically, if still fashionably.

The funeral home owner rose from her desk in the small office nearest the front entrance. “Moonlight,” she called. “I’m glad I caught you. You may have more than just Mrs. Dartwing to care for tonight. I just got word that another pony in a nearby town was moved to hospice care. They’re losing the fight to some sort of blood disease. Do you think you can handle it, or would you like my assistance?”

Moonlight didn’t even need to think about it. “No, I’ve got it. I don’t think I can finish two bodies in one night by myself, but I can at least have the second body ready for you when your shift starts later.”

Morticia gazed at her with tensed eyes and pursed lips. “All right. Just don’t slack on safety protocol. I’m sure Flash and Swift will alert us to any special risks regarding handling the corpse, but I want you extra careful regardless.”

The goth nodded, completely unfazed. Sometimes they took in cases like this one. Not all local hospitals had funeral homes willing to handle deceased bodies that could be carriers of disease. That and handling forensic work at all hours was what made Morticia’s Funeral Services for the Loved and Departed such a unique and sought-after establishment.

It also made it very difficult to find other employees. With just Morticia and Moonlight working, they were terribly short-staffed. Morticia had “Help Wanted” ads out for two more mortuary assistants, but it had been months since she’d even interviewed a candidate. Moonlight had tried to get Sunshine to consider the daytime position, but her sister had been adamant that she preferred, “working with living bodies, thank you very much!”

Morticia lingered by the funeral home entrance, her brow furrowed. She watched as Moonlight began to make her way to the rear doors that delved deeper into the building. The front area was home to Morticia’s office, where she spoke to clients, as well as a small waiting lobby where coat hooks lined the walls for visiting guests to hang their belongings. To the right was a doorway to a modest selection room, where different caskets were displayed.

Directly from the funeral home’s main entrance was a set of double doors that opened into a large space filled with seats. That was the state room, where families and friends could pay their last respects before cremation or burial. In the back of the state room was another set of double doors that led to the preparation room. This was where Moonlight did the majority of her work. Morticia had figured out early on that Moonlight wasn’t keen on interacting directly with the breathing clients.

Just as the goth pony opened one of the doors to the state room, Morticia called to her again. “Moonlight?”

Moonlight paused and looked at her.

Morticia’s gaze felt shrewd as she searched her employee’s face. “I’ve never left you alone with two bodies before. Are you sure you’ll manage? I don’t mind staying.”

Moonlight stared back at her for a long time.

The ripple of her incarceration last year still lapped at her hooves, apparently. Maybe Morticia had heard a new rumor. Or maybe this had always been a concern of hers. Why else did she insist on seeing each body as they arrived, no matter the hour?

To know what the corpses looked like beforehand in case Moonlight did anything inappropriate.

The goth sighed. Inconvenience upon inconvenience.

“I can handle it. Get some rest. We don’t know when the EMPs will get here,” Moonlight said with a terse nod.

What she really wanted to say was, Go away, but that seldom helped in these situations.

Morticia gazed at her for a moment longer before finally nodding and turning away. “All right, kid. Fine. But I may hang around after the first body gets here in case the second comes in soon after that. Even if it means napping at my desk. I don’t really feel like trotting back and forth over and over if I can help it. Ruins the hooficure, if you catch my drift.”

Moonlight sighed a little but turned to resume her trek to the prep room. She heard Morticia leave and let her eyes narrow just a fraction.

So her recent run-in with the law had damaged Morticia’s trust in her. Great. Having a reputation wasn’t any fun unless she could use it as leverage. These days it just kept finding ways to annoy and hinder her.

At times moving to the Badlands felt more and more like a good idea.

However, it was time to put more work toward her promise. Additionally, Moonlight had already taken the most important step the day prior. After her quick stop at the library to pick up the two books she currently carried, she also took some time to search for any news regarding Black Clover.

Given its size and resources, the Canterlot Library was one of the first to implement the use of microfiche readers, and their collection of microfiche, which were just microphotographs of newspapers and magazines from across the kingdom arranged on four by six sheets, grew regularly. Eager to help, Sunshine had sat alongside Moonlight as they poured over records from Dodge City and its surrounding towns.

Though they didn’t find anything about Black Clover, they did find something about Breezy Puff, Mister’s youngest sibling. Six months ago, the mare had celebrated her seventy-seventh birthday, and there was an announcement about it in a Dodge City newspaper. Satisfied with that information, the siblings had left the library. Moonlight then hurried on her own to Canterlot’s Government Administrative Offices.

There she’d stopped by the Royal Office of Vital Records just before they closed for the evening. She’d been exhausted—ordinarily, she’d have slept hours ago—but this was worth the effort. Speaking to the clerk, Moonlight had made rare use of her charm to first ingratiate herself to the mare, then she’d tactfully requested information regarding Breezy Puff’s current place of residence.

“Are you a relative of Breezy Puff?” the clerk had innocently asked. Simply following protocol. Checking off boxes.

Like a good little drone.

Moonlight had pursed her lips and turned the corners of her mouth down like she’d observed Morticia and the EMPs do when discussing the circumstances of a client’s death. She'd said in her gravest, most earnest voice, “I’m afraid I’m a mortician working out of Barley’s End, miss. I’m very sorry to say that I’m seeking next of kin for a deceased client.”

“Oh my!” the clerk had gasped, her hooves flying to her mouth.

Then Moonlight had bobbed her head like Sunshine did when listening to their neighbors' latest woes and troubles. Newlyweds, struggling financially. The goth didn’t speak to the neighbors. She thought they were mouthbreathers. But she could mimic her sister’s care and consideration, with some effort. And a bit of a headache.

“It’s truly tragic, miss,” the goth had said with the slightest warble to her voice. “Their funeral is soon, and their last dying wish was to have their loved ones there. I know it’s, like, a bit of an imposition, but it would mean so much if I could get Breezy Puff’s home residence. It’s super important. My boss is breathing down my neck about it!” Just to seal the deal and add a layer of legitimacy to her claim, Moonlight had dug out her employee ID from her saddlebag and flashed it.

The clerk’s eyes had seemed to widen with every uttered word. At the sight of Moonlight’s ID, finally, finally, she’d nodded her head rapidly and rose from her office chair with all the flair and gravitas one would expect of some pony staying an execution or something.

“You wait right there, Miss Raven,” the clerk had said, her eyes shining. “I’ll get the requisite form for you to sign. I’m afraid I’m not empowered to get you the information immediately, but I’ll make sure my supervisor sees it in the morning. Normally such a request would take at least three days to process, but I’ll make sure my supervisor approves it!”

Moonlight had assured her it was fine and thanked the clerk. She promised to return the next afternoon after her night shift was done.

She was confident this wouldn’t get back to Morticia. Ponies were usually so trusting, and anyway… Who cared? Her cause was just. She wasn’t going to let red tape stop her.

In the meantime, Moonlight wanted to learn more about these ponies and this violent incident so long ago. Sites of death were powerful fonts for power, and if she could, she’d like to visit it. She was also curious as to what Mister’s killer’s motive had been. So many dead foals… For what? Moonlight hungered to know.

She sighed contentedly as she entered the preparation room. It was sterile and cold, with long white counters ladened with clean equipment waiting to be used. On the far wall was the mortuary refrigerator, with each body drawer being magicked with temperature enchantments to keep the bodies nice and cool until they were ready for preparation, autopsy, or display. The center of the room featured two preparation tables where bodies could be laid for the grisly work, whatever it may be.

The far wall had large magic-run machines that helped with the transfer of bodily fluids and embalming fluid. Near them were a set of filing cabinets for current and recent subjects that detailed the condition of the bodies, steps taken to prepare the bodies, and in forensic cases, what autopsies revealed. Anything six months old was moved to Morticia’s business records in her office.

Near these filing cabinets in a corner was Moonlight’s desk. She didn’t get her own office like Morticia, but she didn’t need or want one. She liked the stillness of the preparation room. Her desk was unadorned. Not that she didn’t enjoy decoration, but she had a feeling her animal bones and gargoyle statuettes wouldn’t go over well.

Moonlight removed her saddlebags and set them on her desk. While it was true her ability to research was somewhat limited thanks to the late hour, she still had tools at her disposal.

First, the books she brought. The tomes she unpacked from her saddlebags and laid on her desk had been carefully chosen to extract necessary information she’d try to follow up on when her shift ended.

The history book first. She’d checked it and the other book out from the Canterlot Library on her way home from her afternoon with Eerie and Sunshine. It was a book that covered the history of Dodge City. Its major events, yes, but also its development.

She wanted to know what happened to the swamp where Mister Double and the murderous stallion had perished. Had they destroyed all of it? And what had been built in its place?

Moonlight opened the tome, the pages turning easily as she read over Dodge City’s story. This book was the latest publication to cover the topic, being only three years old, and so she trusted its relevancy. Its accuracy she would have to cross-check, but Booksmart had assured her that the book’s research was reliable.

Placidly, the goth read about Dodge City’s early years, where settlers had first lived in sod houses before upgrading to plaster and shingle homes. The ponies had mined in nearby Rambling Rock Ridge and farmed in the plains near Hayseed Swamps, barely scraping by a living. Then one day, someone discovered oil and the tiny village that had been Mister Double’s home grew exponentially.

Levees and water drainage systems were put in place in the surrounding swamplands to allow the burgeoning city to grow on all sides. It was around this time, nearly seventy years ago, that the swamp land upon which Mister and his killer likely died was reclaimed. Moonlight flipped to the back of the book and alternated between staring at the early settler maps and current-day maps.

It was no good. She needed to examine her next book if she wanted to put the pieces together. Moonlight set the Dodge City book onto the desk, the tome still open to the map pages, and pulled out the next book:

The Gaze Snatcher: The Shocking True Story of Equestria’s Most Diabolical Psycho

It wasn’t an exceptionally large book. Booksmart had informed Moonlight that no other title seemed to cover this killer in as much detail. He was a paragraph in most true crime encyclopedias. A footnote, even, in the Dodge City history book. Compared to other mass murderers and serial killers, the stallion who had killed Mister wasn’t as infamous. But thanks to a tip from Eerie on the killer’s nickname, she didn’t need to do much for a solid heading. Booksmart, being the meticulous librarian that she was, had found this book in short order.

Opening it to the first chapter, Moonlight was greeted with a crude sketch of the killer. He was just as Eerie had described. Hulking. Dark. With a beastly face—veiny and lumpy, and mad. His true name was unknown, but the guards and early news sources had taken to calling him Crimson Gaze, mostly due to his strange glowing red eyes.

“I don’t want to say it where Mister can hear,” Eerie had informed Moonlight and Sunshine solemnly outside of her home the day before. “I’m afraid it’ll haunt him more than he already is.”

Past that, the lavender unicorn didn’t have much more information to add, save for some names of Mister’s family. It was still enough.

Moonlight gazed over the new book with curiosity. Whereas other true crime books of this nature would spend time detailing the early years of a killer, this title lacked such information. Mostly because, along with the stallion’s name, no one knew anything. It was like Crimson Gaze had simply materialized from the ether and began slaughtering innocent foals across the kingdom.

One thing was for certain, however. As Moonlight poured over the sad and grisly accounts by which the foals before Mister had met their violent demises, it eventually would be established via eyewitness accounts that with each death, Crimson’s eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Alongside such reports were his poor eyesight, of which he was apparently obsessed with correcting. Only… Black Clover hadn’t been the first foal to escape Crimson, and survivors of his attacks would go on to state that before the stallion had ripped out their eyes, or tried to, he’d seemed to have a terrifying sixth sense for things. It was unlike the keen observations of a blind pony utilizing their other senses to navigate a world they couldn’t see, but far more like a powerful spell was being used to sense energies.

Moonlight furrowed her brow as she considered this. If Crimson Gaze had been attempting to fuel an ongoing dark spell with the consumption of foal eyes… then what was he really trying to see? It clearly hadn’t been some area of effect spell, otherwise Mister Double wouldn’t have given the stallion the slip in the swamp. And yet, he’d been able to use it on Mister and Black Clover somehow. So what had he…?

The goth’s eyes widened. “Spirits,” she breathed. Or spiritual energy to be exact. Could Crimson have been attempting to see… ghosts?

Heart thumping in her chest, Moonlight continued reading. Towards the end of the book, the account of Mister’s death was covered. His bravery in thwarting Crimson Gaze, and his rescue of Black Clover. Eerie’s account filled in the gaps the villagers and historians couldn’t possibly have covered, but what the book did offer was the aftermath that Eerie had been unable to provide.

Mister Double had indeed been held by his mother as he gradually died in her embrace, wrapped in his favorite blanket as she’d wept over him. A proper doctor would be sent for, but he didn’t arrive in time. The village healer would lack the means to treat the poor foal’s injuries.

Enraged, the villagers defied the royal guards demands for the return of their prisoner and carried the killer stallion back into Hayseed Swamp. Back to the outpost shack where he’d held Black Clover. And there, they’d beaten him within an inch of his life, tarred and feathered him, then hung him from a sturdy tree. It was old-world justice in the truest sense.

As the book wound down with a mournful monologue about the failures of law enforcement, the tragedy of dead foals, and how Crimson Gaze deserved no sympathy, Moonlight sat up when the author began to detail a monument that would be constructed by the ponies of Mister’s village.

A grainy black and white photo displayed a simple plaque being levitated so that the words were visible. Standing beside it front and center was Mister’s family, along with Black Clover, who was sporting an eye patch, and his own family. Surrounding them were what Moonlight assumed had been the mob that had disposed of Crimson Gaze.

The caption below the photograph read, “A dark monument that offers cold comfort to those who had suffered at the hooves of this butcher. Placed at the base of the very tree upon which Crimson Gaze drew his last breath, a plaque reads, ‘Here a brave colt gave his life to save his friend, and with great passion, those who loved him, avenged him. A terrible crime was met with terrible justice. May the innocent rest in peace, and may the living never forget.’”

Eerie had said she and Scarlet had only done enough research to uncover Mister’s surviving relatives and the general fact that all this had occurred. Somewhat defensively, Eerie had reiterated that they hadn’t felt the need to dig deeper as seldom did recalling time of death aid in ghosts moving on. And of such a short life, what could they uncover that wouldn’t also lead to triggered memories of that horrible final moment? They’d felt it safer to deal with Mister only in the present.

Moonlight suspected Eerie’s reluctance to investigate also had to do with not wishing to uncover the salient details of each crime. But Moonlight had no such compunctions. A foal’s death was just another death.

Still, this bit about the memorial… She levitated a notepad, ink pot, and quill from her desk drawer and murmured to herself as she wrote down some notes. “Ask Booksmart for detailed maps of Dodge City. Where is the memorial plaque?” She paused and looked back at the true crime book, still open to the photo showing Black Clover and his family standing next to the tree. The colt was older here. Standing next to him were other young ponies. Had these been Mister’s other friends? Sweet Bug? Lil’ Bulrush?

After a moment’s hesitation, she added a new note. “Are any of Mister’s other friends alive as well?”

The rest of her shift she spent her time resuming her research of Dodge City. Its history was fairly fascinating. The city had been rather lawless in the beginning, hosting a score of murders and even widespread organized crime. It was better now, but Moonlight had a long list of other locations she was interested in visiting as well, including the site of a mob massacre that had occurred a little over forty years ago. Such a site of death was sure to evoke potent visions, she thought.

But then the other delight Moonlight had been anticipating arrived. Dartwing Dipper, an elderly pegasus from the nearby village of Steedington. Her teal coat was faded, and her sagging skin had that telltale scent of the old and infirm. Morticia had been alerted about the arrival and brought in. She spoke briefly with Flash Responder and Swift Aid then came to speak to Moonlight.

“It’s pretty open and shut, this one,” the older mare sighed as the medical wagon could be heard clattering down the cobbled road.

“I can handle it,” Moonlight said. Her tone was still unhurried and maintained its flat affect—it belied the excitement coursing through the goth. Staring steadily at her employer, she said, “Will you sleep in your office until the next body comes?”

“I think so,” Morticia said with a yawn. She looked over Dartwing Dipper’s corpse, laid carefully on its side on one of the preparation tables. “I’d like to sit in for the preliminary examination before I do.”

Moonlight’s lips thinned. “All right.” She levitated a clipboard over to her and moved to stand near the deceased mare’s head.

Even for deceased clients not involved in an investigation, Moonlight and Morticia performed a simple examination that detailed the initial state of the body. It was important, both for itemizing any additional services they had to undertake for preparing the corpses for showings and also in case they stumbled across evidence of foul play. Moonlight had only ever had the joy of finding such evidence one time.

These sorts of examinations were ideally conducted as soon as possible before rigor mortis completely set in. Dartwing’s body was so fresh, she was easy to move and manipulate. Like a giant doll.

Ordinarily, Moonlight truly enjoyed this phase of the process. She enjoyed all stages of autopsy and body preparation, honestly, but something about having total control of a once-living being sent a thrill through her she didn’t really get anywhere else. Little wonder she daydreamed what other ponies would look and feel like as corpses, even her own sister.

But with Morticia here, she couldn’t play with the corpse at all. Couldn’t fiddle with its limbs, couldn’t stare into its glassy eyes, couldn’t lay her head on its cold and motionless chest. That was bogus. Totally bogus.

Still, something was better than nothing. She could still feel Dartwing’s body shifting under her magical aura, a buzzing across her brain that gave hints of shape and weight if not texture or temperature. And eventually, Morticia would leave. Then Moonlight could work in peace.

Because she did work, despite Morticia’s sudden newfound wariness. Moonlight may take a perverse pleasure in her labor, and perhaps you could make an argument that she was still taking some liberties that any loved one would take objection to, but she wasn’t a pervert. She wasn’t.

She just wanted to know what it was like to die.

And as she filled out her examination form and jotted down notes under Morticia’s careful gaze, she knew that despite her brokenness, despite her lonely existence as an outsider, she knew—

Society needed dark souls like her. Because she didn’t quail from the shadows. And the world should be grateful that she remained dedicated to her principles, prioritizing opportunity over inconvenience.

For Moonlight was a seeker of things beyond the veil, and for a little ghostly colt, she’d gladly use her dark talents to ease his suffering. All for a taste of the beyond.

All for the chance of a friend.

Author's Note

Ah, our "harmless" sociopath, Moonlight Raven. My interpretation of her, anyway. I'm going to have fun bringing all these misfits together! And gosh, is this really the longest chapter so far? Ah well. I thought it was important to have a deep dive into who Moonlight is.

Honorable mentions for end-of-chapter song choices were Alien Sex Fiend's "Walk the Line" and Type O Negative's "Black No. 1". You can hear all of these songs on my Eerie Lantern Spotify playlist.

It only took me a few months to update instead of two years. Aren't you guys proud of me? Now that I've gotten over the massive hurdle that was the last chapter, I think I can actually envision this story being completed someday. Hooray! The Ghost Gang is back!

As always, comments are desperately desired and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

The Pony Who Feared The Living

Eerie Lantern stared at the storefront to Tipped Hat's Food Market, her orange eyes wide and her scruffy ears pinned. Next to her trembling lavender flank was a woven basket, meant to be filled with the month’s needed goods. Sitting alone inside it was a small china teapot, decorated with blue flowers and undulating lines. Gray smoke trailed from the spout.

“You can do this, hon,” Scarlet Orange said behind Eerie. Her sweet voice held all the charm of a country belle. “You just go on in, and⁠—”

“I can’t,” Eerie whispered. Her mouth was dry. It felt as though she was standing under a desert sun, the sweat oozing from her until her shaggy coat was a pungent mess, making her smiling jack-o-lantern cutie mark look like a grotesque and frowning blob. “Scarlet, I can’t!”

“Of course you can,” Scarlet said. “We’ve been through this, a million times.”

“A million and one is past my limit. This is too stressful. He’ll talk to me again!”

She heard Scarlet snort. “Naturally, Eerie. How else is the stallion supposed to do business with you?”

Eerie’s wide gaze dropped to her quivering hooves. “I made a list! A very detailed list. All he has to do is load my basket with my stuff, and yet every time he feels the need to chit chat while he does it⁠—”

Scarlet gasped. “No!”

“He asks about my day and everything!”

“Oh, the horror!”

Eerie pouted at the sarcasm, one of her ears flicking hard. “He touches me! When I give him his bits, he always pats my hoof! Why does he do that?! I have boundaries!”

Scarlet Orange sighed. “Tis the troubles of the living, dear. Like flour, lamp oil, and tea… All of which you've run out of, if you’ll recall.”

Eerie slouched. She scratched at the base of her short horn, buried under her messy crop of orange hair. “Scarlet, I dunno⁠—”

Scarlet tutted, her voice rising an octave. “Eerie Lantern, what have I said about horn scratching? It’s unseemly!”

Eerie slouched further, her muzzle wrinkling. “But it always itches when I’m nervous!” Still, she lowered her hoof.

“Eerie?” Tipped Hat called.

The mare jumped. She looked up to see Tipped standing at his store’s entrance, a bemused look on his face. He was a broad-chested gray earth pony with a newsboy cap tipped to the side atop his combed black mane.

“Er...” He stepped further out the door, his eyes casting up and down the street. At this hour, this part of Canterlot was fairly quiet⁠. “Who are you talking to, filly?”

Eerie turned to look at Scarlet with a long, pleading face.

Scarlet was floating behind Eerie in a silk dress. She simply patted her silver curls with a smoky hoof and turned her muzzle up. “I warned you about carrying on with me in public, pumpkin!” Then with a billow of smoke, the ghost shrank back into her teapot, out of sight.

The goods were purchased. The chit chat and hoof-contact had been endured.

Eerie Lantern felt like she’d been beaten into a paste and baked into a pie.

At least they were out of town now. It was evening, so traffic was light coming down the mountain. Canterlot shrank steadily behind them.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Scarlet’s voice squeaked from the teapot.

“Next time, just possess me and do it yourself,” Eerie intoned.

Her aura shone from under her stringy orange mane, the basket bobbing unevenly next to her. Having a short horn meant her magic power wasn’t always the most reliable. As far as handicaps went, it wasn’t the worst. She could still use magic after all.

In her opinion, what made her horn really strange was the fact that it was noticeably crooked. This, Eerie suspected, was why she could see ghosts.

“Possess you to run errands?” Scarlet emerged from the teapot’s spout like a genie, all smoke and flash, her translucent face contorted in disgust. “I wouldn’t dream of wasting such a precious bond on something so pedestrian!”

Eerie arched an eyebrow. “You whine for possession all the time.”

“Yes! To do all the wonderful things you living can still do. Drink tea! Eat cake! Dance!” Scarlet twirled, smoke whipping about her as she smiled up at the burgeoning night sky.

Eerie rolled her eyes. “Sooo important.”

“Hmph!” Scarlet crossed her forelegs and turned her face away. “So rude! When you’re dead and still drifting around like a storm cloud, I’d like to see you pooh-pooh such divine pleasures!”

Eerie opened her mouth to reply, but stopped abruptly when she saw a light blue-gray unicorn with dark hair and heavy eye makeup standing in the road. They were near the base of the mountain, Canterlot no longer in sight. It was rare that other ponies were on the road at this time.

Eerie’s breath caught as she slowed to a stop.

A robber, maybe?

The stranger was staring with lidded eyes and a blank expression, but she was clearly focused on Eerie.

Eerie stared back, fresh sweat already dampening her coat anew.

Where did she come from? Did I really let my guard down that badly? But no one is ever out here this late!

The two unicorns watched each other for what felt like a long time.

The stranger spoke first, her head tilting to the side. “Woah. Were you, like, talking to a ghost or something?” Her voice dripped with a kind of ennui.

Eerie was so taken aback by the question that her wide eyes snapped up to Scarlet.

Scarlet mirrored Eerie’s expression and drifted backward a little. “Now don’t you go looking at me, pumpkin! What in the hay do you expect me to do? She can only see you, remember?”

Eerie took a deep breath. She looked at the strange unicorn and tried to tamp down her growing trembles.

Be convincing, be convincing, be convincing⁠—

“G-Ghost? Wh-What ghost?” She laughed. Or tried to. The sound shared more in common with a duck suffering from laryngitis, even to Eerie.

Scarlet just hoofed her face.

The stranger arched an eyebrow and came closer. “I’ve seen you around before. You come up to Canterlot once a month, right?”

“Yes?” Eerie started to backpedal, her ears drooping.

Should I run? I should probably run. But she’s a unicorn, she could attack me with magic! Wouldn’t I be safer facing her straight on?

The indecision left Eerie feeling too afraid to do anything but continue to retreat backward.

The strange unicorn didn’t stop her advance. “And you sell those spooky pumpkins and gourds for Nightmare Night every year, don’t you?”

“Th-That’s right.” Eerie’s aura flickered as her power dipped, and she only just managed to catch the basket before it crashed to the road.

Scarlet let out a huff. “Be careful with my teapot!”

Eerie's rear hoof caught on a rock, and she stumbled onto her rump. She watched with shortening breath as the stranger closed in. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinned her ears, waiting for the end to come⁠—

“Cool. I was wondering if we could, like, have lunch or something.”

Eerie cracked open one eye as one ear quivered back up. The stranger had stopped in front of her.

“Wh-What?” Eerie looked the unicorn over once, quickly.

No knife. No capture net. No free literature.

She noted the mare’s cutie mark: a purple heart and four outward-facing crescent moons.

The strange unicorn spoke again, apparently unfazed by Eerie’s lack of participation. “My sister has been on my case to make new friends for-like-ever, but none of the ponies I know seem to understand the darkness in my soul.” She gave a small shrug. “Not surprising. It’s like, blacker than black.”

Eerie’s raised ear drooped. “O-kay...?”

“Someone’s a few oranges short of a glass of OJ,” Scarlet muttered. Eerie gave the basket a hard shake, making the ghost gasp out: “Rude!”

“My name’s Moonlight Raven,” the unicorn said. “You’re Eerie…?” she tilted her head to the side meaningfully.

Eerie drew up, her eyes going wide. “Oh! Er, Lantern! Eerie Lantern. That’s me.” She smiled with effort.

Moonlight gave a small nod. “Nice. So, like, tomorrow then?”

Eerie stared blankly. “Tomorrow, what?”

“Lunch. Noon. I’d like to bring my sister, just so she can see that I’m…” Moonlight furrowed her brow and looked up with a low hum.

Eerie blinked once. Twice. “S-So that she can see you’re t-trying to make... friends?” She squinted one eye on the last word.

Moonlight’s eyebrows lifted. “Woah. Our spirits are totally on the same wavelength.” She began to walk around, apparently resuming her trek back up to Canterlot. The faintest hints of a smile was on her lips. “Cool. Should’ve known I’d be friends with a mare who can see the dead.”

“B-But I can’t see the dead!” Eerie blurted. Her heart was in her throat. “And we aren’t friends! Plus, you don’t know where I live!”

Moonlight paused and glanced back at her. “Oh, so you don’t live at that creepy little cottage near Foal Mountain anymore?”

“Er, yes? Wait, no! Um.” Eerie gave her head a hard shake. “Sorry. I’m confused. How do you know where I live?”

Is she a stalker? I KNEW I should have gotten a guard Cerberus!

“Sometimes I take long walks out that way.” Moonlight let her gaze drift up to the darkening sky. “I like to watch the shadows grow as the sun sets. At night, it’s like seeing into the abyss.”

Scarlet whistled. “Pumpkin, this mare ain’t just short oranges, heck she’s short a tall glass!”

“Hush!” Eerie snapped at her.

“Me, or…?” Moonlight paused to gesture where Scarlet was floating.

“Her!” Then Eerie’s mouth fell open with horror. “Shit! No, I meant⁠—!”

“It’s okay, you know.” Moonlight squinted her eyes as she looked in Scarlet's direction. “I can’t see her, but I can, like, feel her. It’s a mare, right? I'm guessing an earth pony, too. They have harsh auras.”

Scarlet scoffed, her hooves going to her smoky hips. “Who has a harsh aura?”

Eerie just stared at Moonlight. Does she actually sense the dead like I do? She guessed where Scarlet was, and even what she was, but...

Moonlight nodded like Eerie’s silence was a sufficient answer. “Whenever I bought pumpkins from you, I always kind of suspected… But then I saw you two talking tonight, and was like, ‘Woah.’ Sometimes, it's just fate.” She turned and resumed walking. “I’ll bring drinks tomorrow. My sister will bring sandwiches. Don’t worry about doing anything else. I don’t eat much anyway.”

Eerie Lantern watched her go, one eye twitching.

Scarlet Orange let out something between a hum and a chuckle. “My stars! It seems Chateau Lantern will have a new kind of haunting!”

The words hung in the air like a thick fog.

Then Eerie’s eyes brightened. She looked at Scarlet, her ears pricked forward and her lips pursing.

Scarlet batted her eyes under the attention. Then her face lengthened.

“Eerie Lantern, tell me you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking!” She shook her head vehemently. “The answer is absolutely not! If you didn’t want that pony to come, you should’ve told her ‘no’!”

Eerie hastily levitated the basket and took off at a brisk trot for home. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest. “I told her we weren’t friends! Considering how well my brain was working, I think that was the best I could manage as far as discouragement goes! I mean, who does that? Just walks up to a pony and says, ‘We’re friends, now!’” Eerie gave her mane a hard shake, her jaw tightening. “You know who does that? Murderers! Thieves! Politicians!”

She glanced up at Scarlet. The ghost wasn’t glaring at her… She was looking at her with pity.

Pity for the handicapped unicorn who was terrified of other ponies.

Eerie hated pity.

“It’s fine! I’m fine!” Eerie snapped, tearing her eyes away. “Listen, if we scare those two enough, then I’ll never have to worry about ponies trying to befriend me again! Maybe even Tipped will know better than to trade words with me when I go shopping, and I can finally have the kind of life I want. Quiet! Alone!”

Out of the corner of her gaze, she could see her friend shaking her head. “Alone, but for the dead,” Scarlet muttered.

"Whatever."

Eerie paused, another idea coming to her. “Scarlet, how scary can you howl?”

Scarlet gasped, her hoof going to her chest. “Well, I never! I do not howl. I’ll have you know, I once sang in the opera!”

“Eh. Close enough.”