Author's Note

Don't read if you want to be surprised!
Okay so there will be a change in scenery ;) this is JUST the introductory to what you'll be reading later. I was playing around with this idea when I should have been writing COTE and Nioh but this was just such a good idea, to me, that I just couldn't pass it up. Things WILL get explained just give it some time and you may be pleasantly surprised. The changeling tag is purely for the main character and there will be little changeling interaction outside of them, we will also see interaction between a lot of your 'regulars' such as the main 6, the princesses and a couple others but not often enough to warrant a tag in my opinion.
This story contains supernatural elements. If you aren't a fan of such things, this story is definitely not for you.

Business as usual

The rotten wooden boards creaked as weight was reintroduced to them for the first time in years, the dark halls were disturbed as a flashlight revealed dust falling from the floor above. A soft groan was the only sound that dared disturb the cacophony of crunching and cracking of the brittle bones of ponies ages past were broken under the weight of another. But he was not to join them.

He neared the stairs to the second floor as the boards threatened to give under his weight with a loud creak, the second floor was still a welcome change to the basement.

A normal pony would be shaking in their skin at the unnerving feel of the abandoned, broken down house but it's latest occupant was far from normal.

The black chitin and blue compound eyes were a testament to his species usual home in dark hives so why was he here and not there? He was on the job.

You'd think him crazy for believing that the things he hunts were real but a quick look at his RV would change that to thinking him insane. They're only stories! Legends!

He knows they are anything but.

Ghost hunter extraordinaire, the demon of demons, a name that all from the afterlife shiver from hearing...

...Gary.

He had been hired to check out this building in the middle of nowhere, clear it if anything made it home so it can be turned into a haunted house, well... a fake haunted house for y'know... foals.

An hour was spent going back and forth between equipment, trying to identify what it was, if there was something here. It was just his luck that the pony he was doing this for decided to come along, impatiently tapping his hoof, threatening to not pay and generally just not understanding that one mis-measurement could end up in an incorrect identification, bringing gear and weapons that would be ineffective or flat out useless and thus turn a hard and dangerous job into basically suicide.

It's happened before due to ignorance and he paid for it, the massive scar on his neck burned every time he was kicking off an extermination. The voice therapy afterwards cost him a fortune in repeat visits as sometimes you need to vocally antagonize your prey or fall into a trap of some kind. He's had experience with that too.

He began to ascend the staircase after a quick scan with the 'see-it' goggles that sat on his head, just under his horn.

These exterminations would be a lot harder if it weren't for that loony unicorn Fix-it. He had made and named, much to Gary's chagrin, pretty much all his gear. These goggles were no different.

While his natural compound eyes had excellent night vision, his prey made that advantage inoperable. Through means he will never understand, although Fix-it likely tried to explain, his NNV (Natural Night Vision) was always taken away when hunting spirits of any kind. So the flashlight strapped to his wither was mandatory, for this particular spirit, so were the See-it goggles.

After scanning, testing and retesting he had determined there was in fact a wraith in here... Somewhere...

They're hard to find but actually quite harmless, if it weren't for a few factors. At roughly midnight to 2AM the wraith will become more active, like it was on the hunt for those on the other side of life, namely Gary. It was 1:23AM after all. If he doesn't get it tonight he'll have to camp out until tomorrow.

He doesn't want that.

Now on the second floor two things became apparent. It had become a great deal colder, causing him to shiver slightly, and it had got rather darker. It would have gotten quieter but silence is kinda hard to top.

The wraith was now on the hunt, Gary was in the danger zone. The wraith was vulnerable now.

He quickly brought the See-it over his eyes while readying his sidearm, loaded with 'uncorporeal' rounds... damn it Fix-it, and began to slowly trudge backward with his sidearm in hoof, ready to dispense extermination.

They can phase through walls yes but they cannot leave the place to where they are bound, on the other side of the wall that Gary backed into was outside so it would be impossible for it to attack him from behind, to his left is the staircase so it is highly unlikely to attack from there since it is bound to the second floor. His immediate right was a wall and in front was a long hallway.

Pointing his sidearm to the wall on his right, he kept an eye on the hallway while listening for soft wind to his left.

Why wind? Spirits, while incorporeal will emit a soft wind sound around them while moving, it's quiet but it's there. Speaking of wind...

Ripping the sidearm's aim from the wall he unloaded three shots down the hallway and quickly ran to chase it down, remember, wraiths are weak to head-on attacks.

Relying on the flashlight to see and the See-it to find the wraith he ran down the hall to follow the now louder wind, a sign the wraith was moving faster than normal.

He made a sharp right at the end of the hallway and into a filthy bathroom, to see the wraith winding up a swipe.

All spirits are transparent, the level of transparency often depending on it's type and current activity. Since the wraith was 'on the hunt' and had been presumably shot with uncorporeal rounds it was almost opaque, not transparent anymore. It was a type 1 wraith. Long, bipedal, no legs and covered in a tattered black cloak.

Since it retreated to the bathroom Gary could assume that was the 'bound room', since it was a type 1... that's where it's corpse would be.

While you can determine the kind of spirit it is using specialized equipment, courtesy of Fix-it, you cannot determine the type to understand it's most likely behavior pattern.

That was an on the spot kind of thing.

Out of the 4 types the type 1's are usually the easiest. They aren't bound to the room, so to speak, like the other types. They are bound to their place of death and the strength of a spirit is determined from their grief and sorrow at time of death, suicide usually bears the strongest out of the type 1's but they are still the weakest type. Anger and resentment determined their aggression not strength, a common misconception. A good hit from them is still lethal regardless.

Breaking his run Gary dove to the ground to avoid the swipe while turning his body towards the wraith, landing with a heavy thud that he will feel definitely in the morning.

With Gary on the ground the wraith attempted to pounce on him and violently tear his body apart, Gary's sidearm had other ideas. He fired four more shots, each specialized bullet landing in the wraiths form and tearing it apart. Whatever Fix-it puts in these bullets make their intended target really feel it.

With a count of seven shots fired the wraith's body was missing pieces of it's main torso and slowly fell to the floor while the rest of it's body evaporated into a black mist that cut off the flashlight's beam of light, the continuous strained exhale signaled the wraith's second death and Gary pushed himself to his hooves with a groan.

He began looking for the body that the wraith had departed from and found it in the bathtub.

Sitting in the bathtub was the skeleton of a unicorn mare with a mostly broken skull, likely due to the Colt Single Action Army Revolver sitting at her hind legs. She'd been here a while.

Gary cradled her head and upper body as he laid her down in the tub, moving the old revolver to her chest he took off a bottle from his vest and threw it into the tub, accidentally breaking her ribcage, and the oil contained within spilled all over the skeleton.

He tore off a piece of paper from the contract he accidentally took with him, and brought out his well used lighter which was tucked under his vest for safe keeping.

He lit the paper and dropped it in the oil, which lit ablaze.

His job was done and he quickly left the bathroom and descended the stairs to leave the house, boards creaking the entire way. With the wraith gone and it's body incinerated the house also rose in temperature though that could be the fire.

He walked through the doorway, he kicked it off earlier, and approached his fuming, well-dressed earth pony client.

"Do you have ANY idea how much your little joke is going to cost me?! There's having a joke business and there's damaging MY PROPERTY!" He all but screeched in Gary's face who wore a neutral expression.

"You were dealing with a type 1 wraith, that's gonna cost you two hundred fifty bits. It's gone, so is it's body, so you can go make your haunted house thing or whatever." Gary calmly replied, his gruff voice showing how severe the scar on his neck once was.

"It's a museum you stupid bug! You probably filled it with holes with that firearm of yours. I should be charging you!" The stallion continued.

Gary had seen this before, ponies hiring his services because they think they could get a laugh out of it or something and becoming outraged when he actually charges them. He often should just let them find out if the spirit is real when he finds one but he can't because there is a chance that they'll cough up the bits. It's better to forgo the pay if he can avoid them calling the police, they wouldn't take him seriously either and arrest him on the spot.

It's refreshing to know that every once in a while that a pony actually sees the spirit, survives, gives him a ring and he can actually function as a business. Those calls are unfortunately few and far between.

"Regardless of what you think Sir High and Mighty," Not his actual name but it would be fitting. "You signed the contract and it states that you acknowledge the risks of property damage and WILL pay what is owed, don't pay, I dare you. It'll look good to your 'friends' to be sued by a lowly changeling." Gary challenged him, lowering his voice to sound more threatening than he already did.

"Contract?! What contract?!" He demanded, probably going to rip it up to try and get out of paying, it happened once and now Gary always prints additional copies. He wasn't going to go hungry for someponies amusement. Not again.

Pulling the contract out of his vest and showing it to the still fuming stallion. "You signed right here-" Predictably the stallion took it from him and somehow managed to rip it into pieces with hooves.

"See? What contract?" He asked again, smugly. Happy now that he no longer owed anything.

"What kind of business would I run if I didn't have copies? I expect the two hundred fifty to be forwarded within the week or I'll be seeing you in court." He flatly replied. The stallion stood there with a reddening face, likely from a welling fury. Imbecile.

With nothing else to say Gary walked past his former client and got in his large RV which sat behind him.

The now furious stallion started kicking at the RV while Gary turned the key, shouting things that no true well-dressed stallion in their right mind should use as Gary drove off.

"Didn't take it seriously?" A voice called out from the back of the surprisingly spacious RV.

"Nope." Gary replied calmly, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth using his limited magic. The owner of the voice emerged from behind curtains at the back, revealing an even bigger space, one that should by all means not be there.

"Thanks." Gary said when his cigarette was lit for him, allowing him to focus on driving to the next destination.

"Where to next Gary?" The unicorn stallion asked while sitting down in the passenger seat.

"Next client is in Appleloosa." The stallion cringed.

"That's quite a ways away."

"C'mon I thought you were a stallion Fix-it. We'll get there." Gary replied while looking at him with a smirk.

That made him chuckle. "Shut your trap." Fix-it retorted, making them both laugh.