Hell of a Time

The steady clack-clack-clack of sensible shoes against cement might have been ominous, the sort of thing that, when combined with dim lighting and careful camera angles, would slowly send movie audiences to the edges of their seats.

“People often ask me what Crystal Preparatory Academy’s secret is.”

But for that to happen, they'd have to edit out Abacus Cinch's voice first. The imperious, lecturing tone would've killed any tension and made any audience long to strangle her. And Cadence had to admit, her own fingers started to itch if she had to listen to her boss for too long.

“Every time,” Cinch continued, “I tell them the secret is that there is no secret. Crystal Prep is the best because we have the best. The best faculty, the best facilities, the best equipment.

“But that is not the complete truth.”

Once the silence stretched on long enough for Cadence to get a word in edgewise, she realized she was expected to do so. “It isn’t?” she said, feeling like she’d missed her cue.

The feeling only grew when Abacus gave her a stinkeye before continuing. “Indeed it is not. The best does not come cheaply, and in order to both supply it and keep tuition at least moderately affordable, there must be…” The older woman trailed off, shuddering as the next word crossed her lips. “Compromises.”

“I assume that’s why we're in the school basement?” Cadence looked around. One of those compromises was clearly keeping the less visible parts of the school very clean. The cobwebs only added to the horror movie atmosphere, and she could tell where they were going just by tracking the footprints in the layers of dust on the floor.

Cinch nodded, satisfied with Cadence's performance this time. “Indeed. You see, Cadenza, when the demands of both academic excellence and the school’s reputation leave one unable to cut corners on any part of operating the school, one must apply creative tactics elsewhere.”

Cadence swallowed. Even Cinch insisting on using her full name wasn't enough to distract her from the building dread. “Is this illegal?”

“I assure you, what I will show you today does not violate any laws.”

“Which is why you had me sign a non-disclosure agreement before you let me see it.”

Cinch shook her head. “And to think, the students call me the uptight one."

"I... Excuse me!?" Cadence wasn't sure if she was more shocked by what she'd just heard, the fact that Cinch was actually somewhat in touch with what the students thought of her, or that the woman had actually cracked a joke.

"Do relax, Cadenza," Cinch said with a startlingly human smile. "I can understand how having a police officer for a significant other may make you wary of stepping even a toe out of line, but no court in the country would even have a charge to levy against us, much less convict us.”

That did nothing to assuage the building unease in Cadence's gut. “With all due respect, Principal Cinch, I’m not sure if there is an ‘us’ here.”

“I don’t pick successors out of a hat, my dear. One day, this will all be yours, building and legacy both.” Cinch spread her arms to encompass her domain, which would have worked better upstairs. “And I will see to it that you have everything you need to preserve both.”

Finally, their trek through the dusty corridors brought them to a door marked "Generator Access." Cinch unlocked it with a key from her blazer, opening it and flipping on a light switch to reveal a steep staircase leading even further down.

Cadence just stared. The naked, flickering bulb might have been even worse than pure darkness, especially since it didn't explain the blood-red light at the foot of the stairs. “I, uh, didn’t know the building had a sub-basement.”

“Oh yes," said Cinch, as calmly as though they were having lunch in her office. "Installed by Principal Sombra, much like what it contains." She chuckled, marking the second display of humanity Cadence had seen out of her this afternoon, week, and month. "Before your time, of course. He was principal when I attended classes here.”

“I’ve definitely heard the name before. Wasn’t he behind a massive embezzlement operation?”

“That was never proven." Cinch started down the staircase and looked back. "Well? Come along, now.”

Cadence gulped. Well, look on the bright side, she told herself. At least she can't shove you down the stairs.

It didn't help.

The sub-basement was a single chamber no larger than Crystal Prep's main auditorium... which, to be fair, could seat five hundred. Several consoles out of a docudrama on Charanobyl lined the walls, though none of them were lit up. Cinch moved to a laptop sitting on a folding table in front of the central feature of the room. "Modern technology has made managing it so much easier."

"It" was a low stepped pyramid the size of a backhoe. Nine square steps of stone led up to a central dais only about a foot above the floor. Each one glowed with crimson symbols that weren't part of any alphabet Cadence recognized, and the top square contained a complex diagram of a circumscribed seven-pointed star. Nine more squares of engraved stone came down from the ceiling. Between the ninth squares lay a cylinder of hazy glass that took the circle's glow and spread it across the room like an electric lantern, a two-doored passage like an airlock adding strange distortions to the unearthly light.

Cadence could make out vague motion within the glass. Nothing definite, and given the nagging sense that something was looking back, she was just fine with not having a clearer view.

It took her a few moments to take it all in, and several more to actually say something past her shock. “This… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a portal to Tartarus itself!”

“Well spotted, Cadenza," said Cinch, not even looking away from the laptop. "I knew you were the right choice.”

Cadence felt her jaw drop. She stared at Cinch, waiting for anything more. The other woman just kept typing. “You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as all Hell, if you will pardon the wordplay.”

“That’s…” Cadence shook her head, waiting for the massive thing to resolve itself into something reasonable. “That’s impossible.”

“To paraphrase the Bard, there are more things in Heaven, Earth, and otherwise than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Another few keystrokes, and Cinch stepped away from the laptop. She gestured towards it like showing off a game show prize. “See for yourself.”

Cadence stepped forward. The screen displayed a video of a vast metropolis of black, twisted iron. Smoke floated up from a thousand smokestacks. Specks moved above the view. One floated up closer to the camera and resolved itself as a bat-winged horror the likes of which Cadence had never seen.

Yet the worst part wasn’t anything shown in the window. The worst part was that it was all being streamed from a ProGo camera.

“Hell is real." Cadence fell to her knees, staring blankly as she felt her whole worldview turn upside down. "Hell is real and there is a portal to it underneath our school and you’re using it to save on the electric bill.”

“In so many words, yes.”

The sheer indifference of the statement sent a shot of irritation through Cadence's blown mind. “And this doesn’t strike you as a bad idea?”

Cinch shrugged. It wasn't much of a reaction, but at least it was something. “It’s held up for decades.”

“So have I." Cadence got to her feet and marched up to Cinch. "That doesn’t mean I’m going to live forever.”

All it got her was a side glance as Cinch moved back to the laptop. “I assure you, I have overseen the generator for over thirty years now, and it requires only minimal maintenance to provide both unlimited power and a bit of a boost to student morale.”

Cadence blinked. “Excuse me?” She glanced back towards the screen, but Cinch was already closing the computer.

“Principal Sombra was a man vastly ahead of his time." Cinch waved a hand towards the glass. "The shielding is deliberately imperfect, allowing just a touch of the pit out into the building. Pride in excess is a sin, but in moderation?" She grinned, her teeth gleaming red in the hellish light. "I have no doubt it has played just as much of a role in our excellence as any other aspect of Crystal Prep.”

Cadence gulped, her knees wobbling. The indignation keeping her up was fading as the sheer scope hit her. “This is crazy. This is completely crazy.”

That got a remarkably sympathetic look from Cinch. “I thought the exact same thing when Principal Hope showed it to me back in ’81. But then I ran the numbers. Half of the students would not be able to afford the tuition here if we went back on the main grid, and many of the rest would be chased off by the sudden spike. Alternatively, we’d have to slash salaries across the board, drop some classes entirely, trade in equipment for lesser models…” She shook her head. “Don’t even get me started on what the computer labs have done to the situation since.”

“All that from the power bill?”

“And heating. Technically speaking, it’s geothermal.”

Cadence felt an eyelid twitch. “I hate it. I hate literally everything about it.”

Cinch put a hand on her shoulder. It was almost welcome. “Welcome to Crystal Prep, Cadenza. Greatness always comes with a cost.”

Two years later...

Cadence marched up the stairs to Cinch's office, clutching a manila folder like a sword to slay the dragon in her lair. It shook in her hand, her mind's eye still filled with the expression on Twilight's face while being consumed by the magic burst.

She barged into the office and slammed the folder onto the desk. "Get the fuck out of my school."

Cinch drew back as though slapped. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, Abacus. Twilight told me what happened, and I told the school board in turn. I left out the part where you all but ordered her to become a magical destroyer of worlds, but they were still absolutely livid at you pushing a prodigy so hard she had a breakdown in the middle of the Friendship Games. And that's not even considering your threats to sabotage the rest of her academic career. Her transfer to Canterlot High sealed the deal. You’re out of here.”

Cadence had expected a lot of possible reactions from the other woman. Fear had been low on the list, but it was still satisfying to see. “You… You can’t do this!”

“I already have.”

Cinch shook her head. “No, you don’t understand! There are things I still haven’t told you, information I was saving for my retirement!”

Cadence snorted. “Frankly, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Cadenza—“

“My name is Cadence. Principal Cadence to you.”

“Very well. Principal Cadence, please." Cinch leaned over the desk and whispered, "This concerns the generator.”

For just a moment, Cadence hesitated. She really hadn't expected Cinch to knuckle under so quickly. But Twilight's face came to mind again, and she shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out." With a smirk, she added, "After all, it’s held up for decades, hasn’t it?”

“This isn’t something you figure out by trial and error. Please, listen.”

“You threatened to ruin my future sister-in-law’s life, then drove her insane, all for an event that’s supposed to be about friendly rivalry and cooperation. If I ever see you on my campus again, I’m calling the cops." Cadence pointed to the door. "I'm not telling you again, get the hell out of my office.”

Cinch opened her mouth, but shut it again as she took in her replacement's glare. She rose and nodded. “Very well. I only hope that that phrasing does not prove all too appropriate.”

The stars of the netherworld—Tartarus, Hell, Sheol, or any number of other names humans have devised for it—are not like the ones of most universes. It is an intimate plane, one intended only for the souls of a single planet. It has neither the space nor the materials for vast balls of fusing hydrogen. No, the stars above those smoke-choked skies are portals, gates to the bright realm above. Some attempt to escape through them, and a few even succeed.

But the energies of that realm don't need to struggle. They waft through the gates and tears as effortlessly as the stink off of a landfill. And like that landfill, different regions produce different stenches. One such star, rarely wavering away from the center of the realm, began to wander towards one of the other districts of Hell.

Certain eyes watched. Certain lips smiled. Certain hands fondled. And certain minds planned.