28 Days To Armageddon

Much to Mist’s shock, her thoughts became reality the very next day. The investigative team packed their saddlebags and headed northward. But they had not left Ponyville in disarray or unprotected. The sergeant tightened the security teams around the points of interest, and even had an elite offshoot squad guarding Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Mist had giggled to herself watching the friendly and outgoing Cakes offering some dessert to the guards. They’d gotten zero response, and it had disappointed them. But then they reasoned that their protectors were simply occupied with their mission. Soon enough, the Cakes got comfortable with their detail, and were seen around town with the guards following like lost puppy dogs.

As for the investigating ponies, they hit the railroad track to Transylmaneia. The theory presented regarding the old werepony masters was a good one, and the only lead they had to go on. Along the way, though, mysterious things began happening to the train. Once, the engine sputtered and came to a complete stop. Thankfully, the engineer and his assistants were able to fix it right up. But then, a seemingly blind flock of sheep wandered onto the tracks. This was a much tougher fix, as the fluffy bovine annoyance would not move. They lay about on the railway, bleating and eating and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Rarity and Mist attempted to use their magic to remove the sheep, but when they did, more came in to replace them.

“UGH! I’ve NEVER seen such a flock!” The conductor said exasperatedly, “now we’re sure to miss our schedule!”

“Hang on, darling, I’ve got an idea!” Rarity said, “now, mind you, I haven’t done this since Sweetie Belle was a tiny little filly. So…I might be rusty. Also, you are all sworn by sacred oath not to reveal this to anypony, understand?”

They all nodded and Rarity began her work. She puffed out her fur, thus looking somewhat like one of the bothersome creatures. Then, she began bleating cutely, hopping about just like a lamb. The sheep took notice of this strange happening and, as sheep are rather dimwitted beings, began hopping after her. The observing ponies weren’t sure which was more shocking, the fact that Rarity would stoop to that level or the fact that it was working. But soon enough, Rarity led all the sheep over to a nearby pen, where she noted that the lock had been broken. She used her magic to fix it, receiving praise and quite a bit of ogling from the shepherding ponies beside the gate.

“Um…thanks, Miss,” one said, blushing wildly once Rarity primped herself properly, “you…saved our flock.”

“Oh, darling, it was no trouble at all! I’ll do anything if it means advancing the train.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, Miss,” the other one said, “but…you’re quite…pretty.”

Rarity smiled. “Aw…well, thank you, gentleponies. You’re both quite handsome yourselves.”

A couple bats of the eye and both stallions were smitten. But she had to run along, so she gave them an address by which to contact her and made her way back on the train. She curled up on one of the seats with a fashion magazine before noticing everyone staring at her. Figuring out the reason, she sat straight up and giggled a bit. Her blush was intensely noticeable, and it became apparent that she’d had another motive for removing the sheep. Not only did it help the train move once again, but it also gave her a conduit for meeting some potential suitors.

“Hey, a girl has the right to fall in love, doesn’t she?” She asked.

“Of course, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, “but…you seem to fall in love with every male pony.”

Rarity chuckled again, but said nothing more. By this point, the train was screeching to a halt at the Transylmaneia station. The ponies all got off, each one with their own luggage, and headed into the rather dark little town. Its inhabitants seemed to creep along as ghosts, wisping through the wind silently. The businesses that lined the thoroughfare reflected the village’s horrific heritage: Werepony sightseeing tours, ghastly haunted homes, and creepy baths of fake blood. There was a hefty dose of sexuality as well, with some of the street mares offering their services. Apparently, a common fetish in the town was mating in the homes of the dead, and for the right price, one could experience it for himself.

“Um…” Mist said, “…this place is-“

“Absolutely horrifying!” Fluttershy exclaimed as she quaked.

“Don’t worry, everyone,” the sergeant said, “just stick together and we’ll be fine.”

“But…there are skeletons and ghouls and awful things all over the place!” The yellow Pegasus said with fear, “what if one of them jumps out and grabs me…er…us?”

“Like I said, Fluttershy, there’s no reason to panic,” the sergeant soothed, “basically everything here is plastic or foam. This town was built on the legends that surround the area, and that fuels their economy. Sex, death, and blood are big deals in the trade here, which is why Princess Celestia granted them special privileges outside Equestrian law.”

“Special privileges?” Rarity asked.

“Yep. For instance, prostitution is illegal everywhere in Equestria except here. Their homes and lives would not survive without it. Personally, I despise the practice, but it is what it is. I just feel bad that these mares have to turn to such demeaning work in order to simply scratch out a living.”

These words struck a chord with Mist Dawn, who looked at some of her fellow mares slinking about in the dark. As much as she adored the idea of having sex with somepony, she couldn’t bear to see them depicted this way. So, she made a pact with herself: when this was all over, she swore to bring some back to Ponyville. There, they could be educated, get new and better jobs, find friends, and fall in love all at the same time. The possibilities were endless.

“Well, here we are,” the sergeant’s voice cut into her thoughts, “The Spire’s Gate. It’s the only hotel in the area. Come on, guys. Let’s get checked in.”

“Why don’t you check out?” A new, roughly feminine voice asked.

“Ah, Lamp Shade,” the sergeant said, “I should’ve recognized your foul stench.”

“Thanks for noticing,” the mare sneered, “it’s my new scent: Death’s Call No. 2. Now, why are you here?”

“We’re investigating crimes back in Ponyville and our leads have brought us to your…lovely little town.”

“We don’t need any snot nosed Ponyville do-gooders telling us what to do!” The mare barked, “so I suggest you shove off before I jump in!”

“Lamp, let’s not make this like last time,” the sergeant warned.

“Last time?” Mist whispered to Rarity, “what does he mean?”

“I don’t know,” Rarity answered, “I really don’t know.”