Midnight Viewings

Emerging from the historical exhibit felt like escaping from a tomb and returning to the world of the living. Spike blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. The late afternoon sun cast a soft golden light which warmed his scales.

The small dragon looked fondly up into the sky. It was good to be outside again.

“Hey, Twilight,” he said, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, which was hanging low in the sky. “It’s almost sunset already!”

Twilight Sparkle followed her assistant’s gaze. The sun had traveled across at least a third of the sky since she and Spike had first arrived at the exhibit. Shadows had emerged and were already beginning to lengthen and creep along the dry grass like spiderwebs. Evening would soon descend over Ponyville.

“Well, ah.” The unicorn smiled sheepishly at Spike. “I suppose we spent longer at the exhibition than I originally planned on.”

Spike gazed back at the building they had emerged from. It was a colossal tarp tent, easily the size of a regular building and pitched on an empty plot of land on the southern side of Ponyville, just across the river from the town’s center. Two parallel rows of kitschy foam obelisks – painted to resemble sandstone, though Twilight had been able to tell they were fakes at first sight – flanked the entrance. A large paper banner was pinned to the tent above the entrance.

The heading on the banner read: The Tomb of Prince Hisan.

Below that, in smaller font: Traveling Historical Exhibit.

“No,” Spike said, his tone stern, “you spent longer than you planned on. Don’t drag me into this. You had to reread every artifact plaque in there three times! I was ready to leave hours ago. My poor feet are tired of standing.”

Spike’s stomach rumbled. He gently clutched at it. “And my stomach’s tired of being empty. Can we go get dinner now?”

Twilight blushed and nodded. It had been a good field trip, but it was time to head home for the day. She kept a tight schedule and did not like to stray from it for too long.

The two began to walk home to the Golden Oak Library, which was located on the other side of town, nestled near Ponyville’s northern outskirts.

They trotted to the nearest dirt path – the southern side of Ponyville was less developed than the rest of town, most likely on account of it being the part of town nearest the dangerous and unpredictable Everfree Forest – and followed it back towards the bridge which would lead them across the river and into the heart of town.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” Twilight said as they walked through the warm afternoon. “But you know how I get about pony history, and it’s not like Ponyville gets many traveling exhibits! I don’t think I’ve been to one since the Manehattan in One Hundred Objects show came through last spring.”

They passed a cottage; the front porch was draped in fake cobwebs and a scarecrow pony, stuffed full of straw, was propped up next to the front door. Some ponies were already decorating for Nightmare Night.

“Yeah, well, with how dangerous the White Tail Woods have been lately I can’t really blame them for not coming here,” Spike said quietly.

“I wouldn’t want to get nabbed out on the road.” The dragon gulped. “Or worse.”

A cool breeze picked up and blew a smattering of dry leaves onto the bridge that led into Ponyville proper. They crackled under Twilight’s hooves as she and Spike walked through them. She looked down and counted their colors; red, yellow, even a few purple and pink ones here and there.

Shadows criss-crossed the streets of downtown Ponyville, plunging a few nooks and alleys into an early darkness. Twilight and Spike passed first by the town hall, and then the market square, which was still crowded with shopping ponies but where a few vendors were already beginning to pack up their stalls and carts for the day. The paved streets of downtown Ponyville hummed as some ponies returned home from work for the day, while others headed out to catch up on shopping or socializing before nightfall.

Spike caught a whiff of apple pie on the air, and his stomach growled again. He gazed up; the scent could be coming from any one of the row houses that lined the streets.

Foals and young ponies, free from school for the day, dashed past them through the streets, laughing and weaving between the older ponies. The Cutie Mark Crusaders zipped by; Scootaloo was driving her banged-up scooter while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle rode in a small, almost toy-sized wagon hitched to the back of it. The two passengers clung to the sides of the wagon as it jolted up and down on the cobblestones.

The fillies shouted a jumble of greetings at Twilight and Spike and then swerved around a corner to turn onto a nearby street, nearly hitting a mare in the process as she emerged from a storefront. The mare barely had time to stumble back out of the street and into the doorway as the fillies drove recklessly past her and disappeared.

Twilight raised a hoof in alarm and was about to shout at the fillies, but they were gone. She made a mental note to herself to talk to them about public safety and responsible vehicular operation the next time it was convenient, but found that her mind kept wandering back to the exhibit she had just come from.

“It was so fascinating learning about Prince Hisan and the ancient empires of southern Equestria,” she said, turning to Spike. Images of ancient history, of pharaohs and sphinxes and great temples lost beneath the sands, were dancing across her mind.

“Their customs are so different to ours! Wouldn’t it be amazing to visit there someday? I’d like to see the desert in person and tour some of the ruins.”

Spike shook his head. “Amazing? More like creepy. All those weird headdresses and coffins and hero-pics.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“You know, hero-pics. Those pictures they carved on everything because they didn't know how to write.”

Twilight rolled her eyes but smiled. “Sarcophagi and hieroglyphs, Spike. Ancient ponies like Hisan wrote in hieroglyphs rather than Ponish script. Their writing system was the historical result of-”

Spike cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, I just got done with a history lesson, Twilight. Anyways, mummies creep me out, and that Hisan guy creeped me out, too.”

Spike shuddered as he thought about the mummy on display in the tent and how it had been wrapped from head to hoof in tattered wraps gone yellow with age. Spike thought he had seen a few glimpses of ancient, leathery skin beneath the wraps. He wasn't sure why any pony would want to get close to a mummy.

“If you’re planning a trip to southern Equestria, count me out. I’d probably disturb a prince’s tomb and wind up getting cursed.”

Twilight groaned. “Spike, curses aren’t real, and mummies’ curses are especially not-real. Don’t be a scaredy pony.”

Spike hesitated. “Hey, Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?”

“Do you think we’re gonna have a Nightmare Night this year?”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, though she was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say.

The dragon frowned. “I mean, with all the predator attacks in the White Tail Woods and ponies going missing and stuff. I mean, do you think the mayor’s gonna set a curfew? Is Celestia going to send any guards to protect Ponyville?”

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t know, Spike. I hope not, I hope everypony stays safe and nothing else happens, but if we have to – well, we’ll just have to make up for it next year, right?”

Though Spike’s fear of mummies and curses was unfounded, his fear of predator attacks was not, Twilight thought to herself. Ponies had started disappearing from nearby; homesteads up and down the White Tail Woods had been found abandoned, and caravans had disappeared from off the highways. The consensus was animal attacks, though some ponies suspected something more sinister was at work. No pony from Ponyville had gone missing, but the news had still hung over the town like a pall. Everypony was on edge, including Twilight.

Twilight got lost in her thoughts as she pondered whether the situation was serious enough for Celestia to dispatch a regiment of guards to town. When she snapped out of it and came back to her senses, it was as if she had passed through some kind of barrier without even realizing it, into a different, darker Ponyville.

The warm afternoon air felt cool and prickly on Twilight’s coat. The sun overhead seemed to grow dull and pale, and everything looked more washed out than it had when she first left the tent. Mane Street, the central thoroughfare that ran through the middle of town, felt quiet and tense despite the bustle of the afternoon hoof traffic.

She brushed it off by taking a deep breath and focusing on the sensation of the cobblestones beneath her hooves. Simple nervousness, nothing more.

“Hey, Twilight. What is that?” Spike asked, pointing at something down the street.

Twilight peered through the crowd of ponies and looked down the row of storefronts and facades to see what the dragon was looking at. It didn’t take long for her to find it.

There, at the end of the block, right on the corner where Redfree Street crossed Mane, was a building that Twilight had never seen before. The building looked like any other house in downtown Ponyville; it was in the earth ponies’ Neo-Chancellary style, built on a timber frame with a jettied second floor covered by a thatched gable roof. What made the building stand out was the fact it was painted black. From the plaster infill to the thatch, the whole building had been painted an inky black. It stood out like a sore hoof against the earth-toned walls and colorful accents of all the buildings around it.

“I’ve never seen this place before. That’s weird, I’ve walked Mane Street hundreds of times since we first arrived here in town and I’ve never noticed this house before.” Twilight squinted at the house; it wasn’t common for her to miss unusual details like that.

Spike frowned as he studied the strange building. They would have to pass it to get home to the library, which was still farther ahead.

“That’s spooky,” he said in a hushed voice. “I bet a real creepy pony must live there.”

“Spike! That’s no way to talk about our fellow townsponies. Maybe somepony new moved in. Maybe they repainted the house and went with black because – because...” Twilight’s voice trailed off. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Sure, dark colors aren’t very common around town, but that doesn’t make them any less welcome. If that’s how a pony wanted to express themselves, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Spike snorted. Twilight wouldn’t admit to Spike, but the building was creeping her out, too.

As they got closer to it, Twilight noticed a few other oddities besides the unusually somber paint: the front windows were not normal glass but rather made from some sort of material that was heavy, murky, and greenish. It was impossible to see inside, or even discern any shapes, from the street.

And, there was a parchment scroll unrolled and pinned outside on the front door, which itself was also black. Even from a distance, Twilight could see there was writing on the scroll.

Twilight’s eyes widened and she immediately trotted over to investigate the unusual building. Spike didn’t follow her.

“Come on, Twilight. This place is giving me the creeps. Can we just go? It’s getting late.” Spike called after her, but Twilight ignored him. She shuffled up to the door and read the writing on the note out loud.

“Yard sale. No room on the street and no yard so please come inside to peruse. I have a variety of exotic, rare, and neighdful things sure to suit the most particular of tastes. There is something here for everypony.” Twilight stepped back from the door and looked up at the house again. It loomed over her.

She looked behind her, back at Spike, and then around the street. No other ponies were entering or exiting the house, though a few did give it wary looks as they trotted by.

Twilight’s nerves softened and she almost laughed at herself. She and Spike had been creeped out by the building’s unusual exterior while all the pony who lived there wanted was to host a yard sale. The misunderstanding presented the perfect opportunity to get to know somepony new.

“Well,” Twilight said, her voice lightening, “what the hay. Come on, Spike, let’s see if this pony has anything interesting for sale! And who knows, we might even make a new friend. We’ll be quick, I promise.”

Spike watched Twilight push the door open and step inside. She disappeared instantly into the house’s interior. Spike peered after her, but the inside of the building appeared dark. She was gone. He bit his lip.

“Can’t we lay off the friendship stuff and mind our own business for just one day?” Spike groaned and followed Twilight inside. He paused at the threshold before closing the door behind him.

The yard sale had no beginning and, apparently, no end. As Spike stepped into the black house’s entry hall, he saw that it was packed, wall to wall, with chests and crates and boxes stacked upon each other. Some of them were labeled – Spike almost stubbed his foot on a large box with the word 'Jewelry' written on top of it – while others were not.

For a second, Spike forgot he was inside a house and instead imagined that he had wandered into some sort of junkyard. The hall was dark and unwelcoming; he felt like a trespasser rather than a shopper.

Twilight had already moved down the hall. Spike didn’t see or hear any other ponies; the only noise was the sound of Twilight rummaging through boxes and his claws on the wooden floor. The rest of the house was silent, save for the occasional creak.

“Spike, you should see this!” Twilight murmured, though more to herself than to her assistant.

Entranced, she walked from box to box, peering inside them seemingly at random. “A griffon puzzle box! From the Groverian dynasty by the looks of it, though I’ve never seen one in this configuration before.” Something else caught her attention and she swiveled around to another chest, which she unlatched and reached into.

The unicorn laughed and pulled a rolled parchment out of the chest’s depths. She turned it over in her hooves and read something. “An original Starflower manuscript! I’ve never seen one outside an archive. And for sale? Just like that?”

She frowned. “I wish they took better archival precautions with it, though. I know this is a private collection but that’s no way to store a piece of magical history.”

Spike watched Twilight and tapped his foot. Though his eyes were adjusting to the dark interior, the air in the house was oppressively heavy with dust and what he thought might be mold spores. He did not want to stay any longer than he had to.

When it became apparent Twilight was not ready to leave, Spike grew antsy.

“Looks like a lot of junk to me,” the dragon said as he squeezed past Twilight, who was still studying the magical manuscript. He ambled down the hallway and into a parlor that was equally full of storage.

The parlor was a large, rectangular room with a fireplace at the opposite end, and it appeared to Spike to function as a hub or communal space of sorts as the walls were lined with several other doorways that led, presumably, to other parts of the house. It was a spacious room; at least, Spike believed it would be spacious if all the clutter were cleared out.

Between the stacks of boxes and chests, Spike noticed a few pieces of furniture decorating the room, including end tables and a baroque sofa that was covered in a fine layer of dust. Spike remembered that he was supposed to be at a yard sale. Where were the house’s residents?

The dragon walked over and examined the fireplace’s mantel which, like every other surface in the building, was covered in items presumably for sale. He picked up a framed portrait of the Wonderbolts’ Admiral Fairy Flight and looked at it. The pegasus’ eyes seemed to gaze back into his with an uncanny intensity, and he hurriedly set it back down where he had found it.

As he walked back to the other side of the room to make sure Twilight was still in the hall where had had left her, Spike turned back and made eye contact with the picture again. He shivered. The picture’s eyes seemed to keep following him from across the room.

Turning his back on Fairy Flight again, Spike noticed an unmistakable, silvery shape protruding from beneath a small accent table near the door he had entered through.

It was a film reel. Film reels, in fact. As Spike approached the table, he saw that several had been shoved into a chest. The reels’ size kept the chest from being able to close fully.

“Score!”Forgetting his prior wariness, Spike dropped to his knees and pulled the chest out so he could fully open it. He began pulling reels from it and examining them. He noticed the reels weren’t the only objects in the chest; several vinyl sleeves were also shoved in at the back of the box.

“And look at this! They’re talkies, Twilight!” Spike pulled a vinyl disc from its sleeve and turned it over in his claws gingerly, taking care not to scratch it.

Twilight gave no response from the hallway, so Spike continued to look over his find.

“Seapony Invaders From the Deep? It Came From the Moon? Secret Agent Super Dragon?” Spike’s voice cracked. “There’s an entire theater in here! Oh, this is awesome!”

“I see you’re interested in those films, sir.” The voice startled Spike, and he jumped back to his feet and spun around.

Leaning against the couch on the far end of the room, watching him, was a green-coated earth pony filly – or perhaps she was a young mare. Spike found that he couldn’t quite tell; the pony had a strange, ageless quality to her, like she was neither young nor old but something else entirely. She was old enough to have a cutie mark; Spike noted hers was of a simple question mark, nothing else.

He hadn’t heard her open any of the doors or come in. How long had she been standing there? The filly peered eagerly at Spike from under a shaggy fringe of black mane.

“They really are quite good.” The filly continued. “Very frightening films, indeed. Do you enjoy a good scare, sir?”

“I, uh-”

“Perhaps you do and you aren’t even aware of it. The heart often desires things that the mind keeps concealed from itself. Yes, something about those films is calling to you.”

Twilight finally trotted into the room and smiled at the filly.

“Oh, hello there,” Twilight said. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and this is Spike. We saw the sign outside and came in to see your yard sale. Does all this belong to your parents? It’s a very impressive collection they’ve amassed. They must be very well-traveled!”

The filly smiled politely at Twilight. “Parents? No, no, this is my collection. I have amassed it over many years. I am glad you appreciate it; it’s getting quite difficult to find ponies with good taste and an appreciation for culture these days.”

“Oh.” Twilight raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask about the filly’s family. “Well, uh, yes, it’s very nice!”

The filly nodded towards Spike. “Your dragon friend seems to be looking for something unusual. A thrill, perhaps? Excitement?”

“Hey Twilight, can we get these? Please?” Spike held a film reel up for Twilight to see. “None of these ever came to the theater in Canterlot! We could play them on the library projector!”

“I don’t know, Spike.” Twilight leaned over and gazed, disapprovingly, at some of the titles. “Kiss of the Vampony? The Mare in Black? You sure these won’t give you nightmares? They’re a little grown-up for a little dragon who’s scared of mummies.”

Spike rolled his eyes and protested. “Come on, Twilight, I bet they aren’t even scary. They’re just corny monster movies. Besides, it’s almost Nightmare Night! I don’t know, you could add them to the library collection or something. We could find a use for them, I just know it.”

The dragon clutched one of the reels to his chest. “Please?”

Twilight paused and pressed a hoof to her chin. “I’ll admit, I had never thought of adding audiovisual materials to the catalog, but you might be on to something, Spike. There has been an increasing demand for them recently. Though, if you ask me, literature is still the unquestionably highest pinnacle of Equestrian cultural-”

The filly chuckled from where she was standing. Spike and Twilight had both almost forgotten she was there.

“How much for these, miss?” Twilight asked, looking at her.

The filly waved a hoof. “You can have them. On the house, as it were.”

“What? Aren’t you gonna charge us or something? This is a yard sale, right?” Spike asked, incredulously.

“Oh, no, no. I don’t need any of your bits. Though I must warn you; you may find some of them hit a bit closer to home than one would expect.” The filly smiled. “Please, take the whole set. I certainly don’t need them. Not where I’m going.”

“Where you’re going?” Spike and Twilight exchanged concerned glances. When they looked back towards the filly, she was gone. Spike quickly looked around. None of the doors had opened or closed, and she certainly hadn’t walked past them and into the front hall. Where had she gone?

“Uh, come on, Spike,” Twilight said. Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke. Spike watched her eyes dart to the doors just as his had. “Let’s get going. I think we’ve spent enough time at this sale.”

“Yeah.” The dragon agreed. He picked up the box of reels. It was heavier than it looked, but he didn’t let the weight slow him down as he hurried out of the parlor and towards the front door.

“Thanks again!” he called back to the quiet building as he hustled out the front door, though he wasn’t sure if the filly heard him. Twilight followed after him. She didn’t talk again until they were back out in the street.

By the time they reached the library, both Twilight’s and Spike’s nerves had settled down after their yard sale detour. Sure, the filly had acted strange, but Ponyville was full of plenty of odd characters. What was the harm in one more?

Spike’s enthusiasm for his newly acquired movie collection had returned. “I can’t wait to get the projector all set up and start watching these! I wonder which one I should start with?” Spike paced back and forth, wringing his hands impatiently while Twilight busied herself with unpacking the clunky equipment and setting up the projection screen.

Because the films were talkies, they required the soundtrack record to be played on a gramophone at the same time the film reel was played on the projector. Thankfully, the library had everything they needed.

“You know, Spike,” Twilight said as she worked, “I might like to join you if that’s okay. I’ve been studying some advanced theoretical magic and my brain could use a break. How about you pick one that looks good and after dinner we’ll watch it?”

Twilight stopped, and turned to Spike. Her eyes were lit up. “Hey! I’ve got an idea! You know what’s even better than watching movies by yourself?”

Spike shook his head.

“Watching them with friends!” Twilight beamed. “We should invite our friends over to watch a few with us! I just know they’d appreciate a good scary movie. It is Nightmare Night season, after all. Oh, this will be so fun!”

Spike smiled and nodded. “That’s a great idea, Twilight! Movies are always more fun with an audience.” He immediately thought about Rarity, and how nice it would be to cuddle up next to her during a scary movie.

Did Rarity enjoy scary movies? Spike had never asked her, but he was eager to find out.

“It’s settled, then,” Twilight said as she finished setting up the projector. “We’ll go find the girls after dinner. But, Spike,” she said, catching herself, “if any of these movies give you nightmares, I’m taking them back to that filly.”

“You sound like mom,” Spike said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The main floor of the library cleared and set up, the two went upstairs to prepare dinner. Outside, the streets of Ponyville were starting to clear out. The shadows were pooling and a few lights were flickering on in windows. Night was beginning to fall.