The Ghost: Assorted Adventures

Victory Lane coughed violently as he entered the alleyway. He was too far from the Mulberry to see the rising smoke in the distance, instead electing to tend to the growing knot of worry in his gut. He fell to his haunches along the stone wall of a building. A sharp sting came from his wing when he tried to stretch, its source a handsome gash along his shoulder blade. He ignored the wound, held his head back and sighed.

His entire life was back in that smoldering inferno. Trophies, contracts, photo albums, and all the dirt he had on Manehatten’s residents now up in smoke. He silently cursed himself for taking the job, for not surrendering to the Ghost and Maud, and for aligning himself with somepony he, admittedly, didn’t fully understand. The knot grew tighter and flared at the sound of a second set of hooves.

“Lane.”

The haunting growl came from deeper in the alleyway, but he recognized it. Lane stood from the damp stone ground and swept at his fur, desperately trying to make himself presentable to the phantasm who beckoned him. He cleared his throat.

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you have what I asked of you?”

“N-No, I mean I did! Well, until they arrived,” Lane stammered, looking everywhere except deeper into the black alley. “There were problems.”

“I expect problems, just as I expect you to deal with them. Instead, I find you making deals.”

“You didn’t see what I saw. They were wild, unreal. You said the Ghost was some country yokel type, like a Robin Hoof rip-off at the movies, not some damn force of nature.”

“Do not pin your failures on me, Lane!” The voice roared, forcing Lane onto his haunches. “The information I gave you was perfect. The plan was flawless. You let your incompetence stand between me and my prize.”

“You blew up my bar,” Lane shot back, defiantly. “You wanted the damn rock, and I got that rock. You want me to fight masked lunatics and freak show mares? That costs extra. As far as I’m concerned we’re square, capisce?”

The darkness before Victory Lane seemed to open to a deeper, blacker void. Streaks of grey coiled together and shot themselves at the wounded pegasus and carried him into the air. There he was dangled, trapped in the swirling vortex of darkness as he felt seething agony spread through his form. There were snaps, cracks, and a putrid crunch that pressed his chest inward ever so slightly. His fur changed color, and all other parts of himself began to shit into amorphous shapes.

“Never forget the sort of power I wield, Lane. I have the means to unmake you.” At that Victory Lane was restored, healed of his wounds and dropped back onto the cold earth. The vile magic retreated back to its obscured source in the darkness of the alley. “I have doubts they were killed in the explosion. Should they survive, you will lure them out to me, and I will finish your mission for you.”

Silence was all Lane could hear as he stood to his hooves, the rumble of carriages and ponies chattering far in the distance. The pegasus shuffled in place before letting out a forceful grunt and kicking at the litter decorating the alley. He huffed, spread his wings, and shamefully flew back toward the Mulberry.

--

The last thud of falling debris petered out across the cold stone room. Chips of burning wood, tiny shards of glass, and the omnipresent smell of smoke surrounded the dark mass curled up on the floor. It shuffled in place, then lurched to one side. The black covering was pulled over to reveal two ponies huddled together amidst the wreckage. The Ghost groggily sat up before he clenched his side, wincing. With few calming breaths he managed to peer out around his new surroundings with blurred vision.

It was a cellar, or something comparable. Small pipes lined the walls, the floor was wet, and the scent of mildew was barely perceptible amongst the smoke. The room extended farther away toward a large door made of aged metal. The Ghost looked up to the ceiling to find the charred remains of the Mulberry had caught on themselves, plugging the hole he and Maud had, no doubt, fallen through in the explosion. He turned to Maud.

“Maud? Maud!” The Ghost shook his companion firmly, searching for signs of life, no matter how minor. With another, almost violent shake she peered out to him through weary eyelids. Maud gripped her head and groaned, helped to her haunches by the Ghost.

“Are we alive?” She muttered.

“Thankfully, yes. Are you okay? I don’t see anything broken.”

“At least you can see,” she said, feeling around for the Ghost’s hooves. “It’s pitch black in here.”

“It... is?” The Ghost surveyed the room once more, his vision finally coming into focus. Instead of a dimly lit cellar, like he was expecting, the sight of their confines came to him with unusual clarity. The world to him was grey scale, and not even the soft mauve mane of Maud held any hint of color. “I can see in the dark?”

“Is that new?”

“No, I mean… I guess Darrox was right.”

“Well I can’t see at all.” Maud rose to her hooves and squinted, trying to pierce the darkness with her stare. It was oppressively black in the small room they landed in, but just beyond the obscured shapes she spied a faint ray of light. Maud approached, kicking away some of the debris, and let the ray grow into a full radiance as she held aloft the Celestia’s Eye. It’s light illuminated their surroundings, but only just, as Maud returned to her companion.

“This is turning into one wild night,” the Ghost chuckled, witnessing his newly granted night vision dissipate as color once again returned to his world. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“Not sure, but the walls seem to be made of limecrete, and look pretty worn from where I’m standing.”

“‘Limecrete’?”

“It’s an older form of building material that involves setting a standard concrete building material into a lime binder. It’s lightweight, durable, and has the added benefit of forcing moisture from the inside of a room to the outside. I’d say we’re in an old utility tunnel. That being said, there’s a lot of water coming in from above.”

“I take it that's a bad thing. Any idea how to get out?”

“These tunnel systems are built to run copper wire throughout the city alongside the water supply network that’s no doubt spilling from the other side of the wall.”

“A lot of the pipes have been busted, and I’m not sure which ones will drown us or electrocute us. Let’s get moving.”

The two, aided by the light of the Eye, began making their way down the far hallway. The door before them was rusted, and gave a metallic wail when the Ghost pulled and pushed. Maud simply handed the Eye to him, raised a hind leg, and sent it hurdling against the aged steel as its hinges snapped off, the door flying against the opposite wall. Water that was once held at bay now flooded into the room, collecting around their ankles. Behind them came the creaking sounds of wood as the debris of the Mulberry buckled under its own weight. A snap was heard, and the duo began sprinting away from the second cloud of dust and rubble as they splashed through the tunnel.

The utility tunnels were worse off than they thought. Visible cracks along the walls, evidence of the recent demolition, spilled the clear lifeblood of the city onto the cold floor. The Ghost could feel a twinge of panic within him as he stared into the rising water. Maud, however, remained steadfast and focused directly in front of her as they rapidly searched for the way out. Her stoicism cracked with each minute that passed.

The water had risen a full three hooves by now with no sign of stopping, and with only the glow of the eye to guide them the dilapidated utility tunnels began to feel more like a tomb. The Ghost strained his eyes, as he had done for the past few minutes, and managed to summon his night vision once again before scanning the area. Finally he spied a narrow staircase, leading to a metal door as its ceiling. The Ghost ascended first, followed by Maud, and began forcefully pounding the far sturdier barrier between freedom and their approaching doom. The angle of the stairs made gaining leverage difficult. Maud struck the door to no avail, before the Ghost produced a dagger from within his cloak and began to fiddle with the lock. He felt the water breach his boot and began to work faster.

A miraculous click reached their ears. In response, Maud furiously struck the metal door and forced it open, pulling the Ghost with her through the threshold. They fell out onto the street, greeted by the calm breeze flowing through what looked like an empty loading dock.

“No spelunking, either,” she grumbled, earning a breathy chuckle from the Ghost. They helped each other up from the cool earth, savoring the fresh air flowing through their lungs. They stood, almost leaning against each other, in willful silence until a firm click landed beside them.

“You two have no idea how long I’ve been lookin’ for you!” Victory Lane stomped toward them, fuming and unable to keep his twitching wings still. The Ghost wearily placed himself in front of Maud and the Eye.

“Stand down, Lane. Surrender and I promise you won’t be harmed, if not then-”

“Holy bologna, shut it!” His ear-piercing command seemed to have some effect as the Ghost cut off his sentence. “I have had it up to here with masks and schemes and whatever crazy melodrama you wackos are so high off of. I can’t... argh!”

A belligerent bellowing escaped Victory Lane’s muzzle, and the visibly confused duo could do nothing except watch the scene unfold. Lane’s roar petered out into a coarse cough as he straightened himself and huffed.

“Ghost, mi-... doctor. I want to make a deal.”

“A deal,” Maud deadpanned. “You dropped a building on us and now you want to make a deal?”

“Yes,” he shot back. “Because, if you recall, my club dropped on my head, also.”

“What do you want, Lane?” The Ghost held the pegasus in his firm gaze. “What could you possibly offer us now that we have the Eye?”

“The one who paid me to steal it for them. I’d give you the full contract we had except, you know, it’s a crisp right now, but I’ve got a lot more information swimmin’ around in my head. In return, I want you to let me go.”

“That’s it,” Maud began. “You spill what you know, we let you walk, and that’s it?”

“That’s it. No tricks, no backstabbin’, no nothin’.”

“Maud,” the Ghost said, turning to the mare at his side. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re desperate, Lane.” She took a step toward the pegasus. “It sounds like you’ve bucked up one too many times and your boss is angry. So, instead of facing your problems, you come running to us to get you out of them. Am I right?”

“You walking a dangerously thin-”

“Am I right?” Maud's tone rose sharply, a thin wrinkle tracing along her brow to express more emotion than she had shown all night. Victory Lane grumbled, holding his tongue before giving a relenting sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right. The psycho blew my home to tartarus and now I want out. What’ve I gotta do to get you to help me?”

“I want an apology.” Maud’s words struck Lane, shooting her a quizzical look.

“You serious?”

“Yes. An apology.”

“I’m sorry I-”

“Not good enough.” Victory Lane huffed in response to the fierce interjection.

“Fine, fine! Doctor, please accept my most humble apologies for assaultin’ your party and ruinin’ your most perfect evening. My heart aches with remorse.” He bowed his head low, rolling his eyes, as Maud smirked. “Can you find it within yourself to forgive me?”

“The groveling was more than enough,” Maud snarked, her smirk as vicious as she could make it. “Now, tell us everything.”