Chapter One: Rescued To Late.
Chapter One: Rescued To Late.
At exactly 9:00 PM, the clock on the small bookshelf next to the apartment door started chiming, and on the ninth chime the door... did not open. In fact it was about twelve minuets later when the lone occupant and owner of said clock, bookshelf, and apartment stumbled through it. The young unicorn mare telekinetically tossed some saddlebags from her back onto a couch on the other side of the bookshelf and closed the door before going to the kitchen sink and splashing cold water on her face. She looked up into the mirror above the sink and took in her reflection; bags under her eyes, magenta and indigo mane burnt black in places, and an all around disheveled and frustrated appearance.
*Could be worse...* She thought to her self as she magicked a towel over and rubbed herself dry before hanging it back on the rack from which it came. *I could have ended up twenty hooves above the ground, or in somepony's living room... Either way, I think I'll give teleportation a rest for a few days.*
She sighed and went back to the living room to grab the saddlebags which she carried into her bed room. She telekinetically removed a book entitled "Gem Identification For Dummies" and set it on her nightstand before hanging the bags themselves on a hook in her small closet. This was closely followed by her work outfit for that day; a bage body suit with a charcoal grey vest, which reveled her cutie mark which was a red heart with a closed leather-bound book in the background. She shook herself relieved to be out of the irritating garment and then passed back through the living room to re-enter the kitchen where she proceeded to open and plunder the mostly empty depths of her refrigerator.
"Let's see here... I could... Hm. Nah... Maybe- ! Eew! What is THAT?? Ick..." She magically pulled a to-go box out of the appliance and levitated it to a trash can and emptied it before knotting the bag several times. She shuddered as she turned back to the fridge.
"Yikes. Gotta remember to throw stuff out before it gets... Like that. Oh, this looks good... Ah! That'll do nicely." She removed two plastic containers filled with boiled carrots and pot pie respectively. She started humming to herself as she put the contents of the plastic wear on a paper plate and magically transported them into a small microwave which she set to heat up the food.
While the machine was spinning the food around to heat it evenly, the mare trotted into the living room and turned on a small stereo, immediately bobbing her head to some catchy music that was playing before catching something out of the corner of her eye. There on the floor directly in front of the door were several letters. *Wooow. Think I was a little out of it when I got here?* She sarcastically thought to herself as she floated the letters over to look at them. On top of the stack was a bill. *Figures.* Next was an offer to buy cheep insurance. *Yaah..* After that there were two more bills, and at the bottom was a letter from the landlord. She felt a sense of apprehension, but decided to read it anyway. As she opened it she herd a snicker behind her. She whirled around to see- nothing?
*Huh. I must be tired.* she though. She carried the letters back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Noting that her dinner was ready, she magicked it out and over as she began reading the letter.
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Dear Ms. Heartlook.
I have some news for you that I think will come as quite a shock.
*Great, hear it comes...* She continued with the letter as she absentmindedly ate some of the pot pie.
This month I decided to do something nice for one of my residence, so I put the names of everypony renting one of my apartments in a hat and pulled out you're name! This month I will pay all costs affiliated with your apartment. Just drop off any bills you have at the front desk and I'll take care of the rest. My sincerest congratulations Misty!
Mr. Bargain Price.
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"Th- .. That’s amassing!" Misty exclaimed pumping a hoof into the air. She was startled by a ceramic bowl crashing against the tile floor and shattering into small fragments that scattered around the kitchen. "Oh! I didn't do that! .. Did I?" Slightly perturbed, Misty focused her magic on as many slivers of the bowl she could locate and condensed them into a sharp ball which she hovered over the trash can before remembering that she had already closed and tied it. With a sigh of irritation, she removed the full bag, replaced it with a new one, and dropped the bundle of used- to-be glass bowl into it. She sat there for a moment more mulling over what just happened before passing it off as a fluke.
"Oh well. I'll have plenty extra bits to get some new dishes. Thanks Bargain, I owe you one." She smiled thinking of her happy go lucky landlord, wondering how she could have ever doubted him. It wasn’t that she was poor, but there had been a few payments that had been late, or she just outright hadn’t been able to pay. Now she had a better job, and things were starting to slowly get easier.
She took a bite of the carrots which she closed her eyes and savored. Misty had boiled them in a generous amount of brown sugar, making them both delicious and healthy. Her indulgence was interrupted by a heavy crashing sound on the other side of the wall separating the kitchen from her bedroom. Misty stopped chewing, going completely still. THAT she had not done. There was somepony else in her apartment.
Misty carefully swallowed the carrot she'd been chewing and rose quietly out of her chair. She knew some things about self defense, but at the moment she was to scared to remember half of it. Why would somepony be in her apartment? She had nothing of any real value, but a better question was how had they got in? Her apartment was on the second story and there was no fire escape. *It could be a Pegasus. They wouldn't be restricted by ladders and such.* She reasoned numbly.
She started walking slowly towards her bedroom, keeping as quiet as possible. Upon entering she beheld her bedside lamp ripped from the cord which was still plugged into the wall near the bed, and smashed against the wall. There appeared to be no one else in the room besides herself and the window was un-opened. She checked her closet, but was only rewarded with her clothes and the few throw blankets she kept in it. Misty was baffled. She couldn't puzzle out what exactly had happened to her lamp. It was as if somepony had ripped it's cord off and chunked it at the wall, but other than that there was nothing that gave any indication that anyone else had been in her room.
*Maybe it was telekinesis... A unicorn could have done it without having to even open the window; all they'd have to do is see it.* With this thought in mind, Misty used her own magic from a safe distance to open the window. Nothing happened. She carefully poked her head outside and looked around. Nothing under the window... Nothing to the sides, and nothing above. No sign of anypony but herself. She was stumped.
Misty removed her head from the window and started to close it when she felt something behind her... Breathing on her...
Misty whirled around and came face to face with the most frightening thing she had ever seen. A ghost. But not like the friendly pony-shaped ghosts she'd read about in story books as a filly, no this looked like it was the child of evil it's self. It was vaguely round with no legs or tail, a massive mouth with huge triangular teeth filling it, and eyes... The eyes stared at her with no feeling. They had no pupils, in fact, they held nothing. The seemed to be two black holes in a condensed fog.
She didn't move. She couldn't move. Couldn’t breath. Couldn't think. She just stared in horror as the apparition blew on her. Suddenly there was another beside it. It looked just like the first, with the huge toothy smile and soul-less eyes. Another appeared, and another, and another, until Misty's bedroom looked as if it was shrouded in a heavy fog.
Misty was still paralyzed. She made no move to escape as the first ghost manifested an appendage and snaked it toward her. The ghost grabbed her foreleg. It felt as if she was being wrapped in icy water where the ghost touched her. Still she didn't move. Suddenly the ghost jerked her forward and flung her against the far wall. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and she felt sharp pain in her shoulder. She gasped for breath as she staggered to her hooves. The first ghost, which she noticed through the fog of fear was slightly larger than the rest, was advancing on her again. Still gasping for breath she did the first thing she could think of; she dove into her closet and kicked the door shut. It was a futile attempt to hide. Ghostly arms passed right through the door and grabbed her again before hurling her into the opposite wall, using her body to splinter the closet door in the process.
Misty fell to the floor for the second time spitting blood from her mouth. She realized that she'd bitten her tongue when she hit the wall the again. Before she could react, Misty was bombarded with objects from around her room. The ghosts had taken to grabbing anything they could find and throwing it at her. She ducked as her broken lamp slammed through the thin layer of sheetrock on her wall right where her head had been. She was getting hit with everything else. Her books, jewelry, her radio, a stray coffee mug, along with everything else in her room was pummeling her with incredible force. The hoofboard of her bed slammed into her shoulder making her scream in pain. In desperation she telekinetically grabbed the hoofboard and held it between herself and her attackers, blocking the bulk of the barrage.
Misty looked about desperately, and after a moment her eyes fell on an escape route. The window. It was two stories to the ground out side, but she reasoned that if she stayed here, she would be beat to death by her possessions. That was not an appealing thought.
Quickly, Misty regained her hooves and ran a half-circle before throwing all her weight into the window. The glass shattered and Misty fell into nothingness before violently slamming into the ground below and loosing her grip on the hoofboard, which had stayed in her bedroom; to large to be dragged through the window. Sharp pain raced through her right foreleg as she herd it crack and bend at an odd angle, and stabbing pains throughout her body as she landed on the shards of glass from her window.
Misty groaned, rolling onto her left side to alleviate the pain in her right leg. She looked up to her window, and went rigid. They were coming. Poring out of her window towards her with all sorts of things from her apartment. One came out clutching several of her kitchen knives. The terror re-griped her. They were going to kill her.
Franticly Misty got to her hooves and hobbled as fast as she could on the three that still worked towards the woods across the parking lot. The ghosts were much faster. However, they seemed content to keep behind her and throw whatever they had scavenged from her apartment at her. Once again, her lamp whizzed by her head, barely missing her. She continued to flee, her mind set only on the thought of escaping. A book slammed into her broken leg, making her scream, but she continued forward to the supposed safety of the woods. She didn’t slow as she passed into the darkness of the tree, but neither did her tormentors give up. They stayed back a little cackling to themselves in unearthly voices, and continued to pepper her with whatever they had. Misty plodded on and on, not stopping until she could no longer hear the insane laughing, or feel things bashing into her flanks.
Misty collapsed in a shallow ditch, her mind returning to her. And along with it, the pain… Her back and sides felt as if they’d been beat with a base ball bat, and she could only feel the top half of her broken leg. Her cuts stung. Her head ached. Her lungs burned. But she was alive.
After a moment, Misty crawled up to a recess in the bank and curled herself into it, hiding herself from view. Panting as quietly as possible, she scanned the banks on either side looking for hints of pursuers, but saw nothing. After a moment she closed her eyes trying to block out the throbbing pain coursing through her body. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep and never wake up. Somewhere in her mind she knew she was in shock, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to sleep…
A familiar breathing sounded in front of her, softly making her aware of the presence before her. Keeping her eyes closed, Misty spoke hoarsely. “Do you HAVE to breath like that?…” She didn’t even recognize her own voice. It was slurred, and sounded almost male.
She wasn’t expecting an answer, but wasn’t surprised when she got one. “No, but it seamed to scare you. We can’t actually breath. No lungs.” The voice unlike hers, sounded as if it was a normal voice coming through a long pipe. Except without the echoes.
Misty opened her eyes and her gaze fell on the cloudy grin and void eyes. A single question formed in the front of her mind. “What do you want?” She said it more as a statement. She was already starting to lose consciousness.
“Old blood runs through you’re veins.” Replied the apparition. “It calls to us. It beckons us to come and claim it…. And we. Will. Have it.”
Misty’s vision was starting to tunnel. She was barely hearing the voice anymore.
“And we may as well take our sweet time- Oh, we can’t have you falling asleep yet,”
*Crack*
Misty screamed, her vision jolting back into focus as her good foreleg was snapped underneath a large rock.
The ghost hovered over her, grinning malevolently as the rest of the ghosts started to appear.
“Oh, I liked that. Do it again!”
*Crack* *Crack*
Another piercing scream shattered the night ending in an agonized groan.
“Oh, we’re going to enjoy this night…”
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Trigger walked behind the buildings that stood on Main Street in Foalsvill. It was dark, but there were enough lights here and there to light his way as he looked for some place to sleep. He had enough bits to get a room at an Inn or a Hotel, but he chose not to for two reasons; One: He was saving up for a beautiful mahogany-handled revolver with chrome trim, and any purchase would leave him that much farther away from his goal. Two: he liked sleeping outside. And on this partially cloudy night with no rain scheduled, all he needed was a place to curl up and he’d start his night-ritual of sending off ‘Z’s into dreamland.
He hadn’t found that perfect place yet however. He walked on, keeping an eye out for any place that caught his fancy. He passed a carport with only one car which had a flat tire, he passed an alley with a stair case leading up to a patio, and quite a few dumpsters. Nothing on par with a suitable sleeping place. He walked behind an ice cream parlor with a sitting area out back, but again, no place to sleep. However, the next alley had a wall separating the far end from the mane street and… *SCORE!* a couch! Happily Trigger trotted over to check it out. It was old, and not a little worn, but in all around in good shape. For something that had been left in an alley.
Trigger brought up his for hoof and checked his watch. Almost 10:30... ‘Well, no reading tonight…’ He reasoned with himself. ‘The Pistol Sniper Contest starts at eight in the morning so…. I’ll have about nine hours of sleep. Can’t be tired during a contest. That would suck.’
He let out a huge yawn and was about to un-strap his saddlebags when he herd a scream. Trigger whirled toward the wall, but saw nothing. However, a moment later there was another scream, closer this time. Somepony was in trouble! A mare by the sound of it, and she was on mane street or thereabouts.
Quickly deciding that somepony else’s welfare was more important that a few minuets of sleep, he backed up a bit and prepared to climb the wall. It was a tall wall, over twice the length of himself standing upright, but he was confident that he could grab the top and haul himself over it. Parkour Ponies for da win! However, just before he was about to rush at the wall, something popped through it. Trigger stared at it. It was blue and shimmering like pictures he’d seen of ursa minors, and vaguely pony shaped, but with only back legs. As he watched, a right for leg appeared on the creature and it tried to stand up on the three legs.
Trigger, up until then, didn’t believe in ghosts. There was no proof that they were real as no one had been able to take pictures of them or capture them, but here right in front of him was what appeared to be a… Well, a ghost. It finally managed to stand on it’s three legs, but at that moment something darted through the wall striking the ghost and sending it flying to land at Trigger’s feet. The little ghost now devoid of not only legs, but even a decent pony shape looked up and met Trigger’s eyes. They just stared at each other for a moment before the little ghost broke the silence. “Help me!” it squeaked weakly.
No, not it, Trigger realized. SHE. Same voice as the scream he’d herd moments ago. Trigger looked at her dumbfounded as it again took on a more pony-like shape. But the eyes were what struck him. They weren’t solid in the slightest, but there was something in them that he had never seen before but recognized immediately; Raw terror.
Before he could do anything else, there was a chorus of insane cackling from the surrounding buildings, and a multitude of other ghosts faded out of the walls and began circling them. Now THIS is what Trigger had always pictured as ghosts. Roundish white semi-solid clouds with abnormally large teeth and back soul-less eyes. Trigger hadn’t been scared, or even uneasy when the little blue ghost had appeared, but the arrival of these spirits put him on edge, making his mane poof up and stand up in all directions. The little blue ghost at his hooves looked around franticly, probably looking for some means of escape.
Trigger did the only thing he could think of to do. He drew his gun. Trigger had engineered spring loaded holsters on the fronts of his saddlebags, so all he had to do was pop a small leaver with his leg and then catch the fire arm as it flew over his shoulder. However, he almost dropped the weapon when his back leg went numb. He looked down and saw that the little blue ghost had tried to grab his leg, but had passed right through it leaving part of her body inside his leg.
“Oooh, that feels weird.” Trigger said shuddering a little.
The ghosts swirling around them seamed to find this hilarious and their laughter raised to bouts of malicious glee.
“Oooo, look at the brave stallion!” One of them taunted.
“Trying to protect you’re new marefriend?” Another said, as well as several other more uncouth comments from the others.
Trigger widened his stance, keeping his gun out in front of him. “Just keep away, or I’ll shoot.” He threatened.
This only produced more insane giggling and shrieking.
“Oh, that would hurt so bad!” one of them said coming to hover several feet in front of him. “Pleas don’t, please don’t!” More hysterical laughs and ‘woots’ and fake pleads for mercy. The ghost in front of Trigger looked back at him, it‘s smile widening even more. (Which Trigger wouldn‘t have believed possible until he saw it.) “Well, let’s see how that works out for you shall we?” The ghost flew at him.
*BLAM*
Trigger’s shot went strait through his target and imbedded it’s self in a wall. The ghost, completely unfazed by having a bullet pass through it, swept right up to him and head butted him in the face, knocking him several feet and causing his gun to fly out of his grip. This left the little ghost exposed as her pony shelter had been forcefully knocked away. She huddled there staring up at her tormentor with terrified anticipation.
The ghost stared down at her, evil hatred practically radiating out towards the cowering form before it. “Brothers and sisters, I declare this chase officially over.” It’s voice lowered and it’s grin again, grew impossibly wider. “Get her.”
Several things happened at those two malevolent words. In order, they were:
All the ghosts orbiting around the little ghosts darted at her shrieking in demented glee.
Trigger jumped toward the little blue ghost in some vain attempt to protect her.
The ghost that was the target, for good or bad (mostly bad), of everyone in the alley panicked and tried to hide in the closest place of relative safety. Which just happened to be Trigger.
Before he even touched the ground Trigger felt his whole body get cold, then numb, before simply feeling lighter. As he touched the ground time seemed to slow around him. The rest of the ghosts flew at him in slow motion, and there seemed to be another dozen ghosts he hadn’t been able to see before. Trigger acted on instinct just like with his gun, but unlike the results he had with his fire arm, he hoof connected with the ghost he swung it at as if it were as real as another pony. The ghost was knocked back into another ghost and they both tumbled through one of the walls surrounding them. However this did not deter the rest of the group which converged on him with a vengeance.
Trigger suffered several painful blows before he was knocked back again. However, this time he was flying backwards in that sense of slow motion. His brawling instincts kicked in and he twisted into a back-hoofspring and he landed safely on all fours. He noticed his gun to his left and quickly snatched it up and holstered it before turning to face the oncoming assault. The ghosts wasted no time in coming at him, but this time Trigger had time to prepare, and they were all coming from the same direction. Before they quite reached him Trigger launched himself at them and started landing as many blows as he could; the actual number of which startled him considerably. His strikes reminded him of the glow sticks that colts and fillies played with on new years. They moved so fast that they left after-trails as he moved them. He started counting each hit he landed; ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, elev-Uuhg!’
Again Trigger flew back, but his experience in past fights didn’t stand a chance against the wall he collided with. It fought a brave battle, but the wall had an advantage; it was close enough that Trigger didn’t have time to even think about landing right. And the wall made no move to catch him gently either. After all, most walls don’t.
Trigger got back to his hooves as quickly as possible and turned to see… “OHSHI-” *WHAM!!* He was suddenly squashed between an inertia-empowered couch and a hard place. The hard place being the wall, which again made no move of mercy toward the green stallion. Said stallion was beginning to greatly dislike that wall.
Trigger tried to kick the couch away from him, but only managed in breaking through the side of it and getting his back hooves tangled in the springs inside. Before he could un-tangle himself, the couch was lifted from the other end and swung back toward the ground. And Trigger with it. But he was able to save himself from another un-forgiving surface by yanking himself out of it and jumping to the far wall. Having way more time to prepare, Trigger met the wall with a timed kick, sending himself into a controlled backwards dive to land- Nope, no landing. The couch swung through the air to swat him with the cushioned side. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if it had not continued to swing and again squash him into the same damn wall.
‘This is not going well…’ Trigger though to himself. ‘Quit while I‘m ahead. I should bail while I have a chance and I’m not smeared all over this &$%# wall.’ Trigger would later be glad that he made that decision. As soon as the couch fell away from the ‘&$%#’ wall, he took off galloping as fast as he could out of the alley.
The speed! The amazing speed which he found himself retreating with was exhilarating. He shot out of the alley and around the corner like he had rockets strapped to his saddlebags. His mane and tail stood straight out behind him like they’d been greased. Down this driveway, up this alley, through this garage, around this corner, dodge some dumpsters, duck under some bushes, and always keep going. Trigger let out a whoop of giddy, adrenalin induced joy. He felt as if he could do anything, go anywhere, defeat any foe, leap tall buildings in a single bound!
‘In fact…’
Dashing across a parking lot behind another random shop, Trigger jumped over the hood of a car, clearing it easily and over distancing it by over twice his body length.
‘OhmygoshohmygoshohmYGOSHOMYGOSH! Higher! Farther!!’
Over two cars. Five cars. He was about to try jumping onto a roof when his hoof caught on the edge of the last car and sent him spinning end over end. Once, twice, thrice- er… four, five, six… “How many times can I spin like this??’ His answer came in the form of yet another offending wall several spins later. Again, the air was forced from his lungs, as he slammed into the brickwork and fell to the ground. Disoriented and gasping for breath, Trigger regained his hoofing but was forced to sit back down as the world spun and stars swam before his eyes. He squeezed them tightly shut and focused on breathing. The pause gave him time to think. ‘What happened to me? Nopony should be able to run that fast. What was I even running from?…. Oh. Oh, not good…’
He opened his eyes which are still telling him that the rest of the world is moving around him. He shook his head and tried again, staring at his hooves until they stopped shifting without him telling them to.
A screech forced him to look up. A ghost had appeared on the far side of the parking lot and was now rushing at him, shrieking in rage. Knowing that the others would be there soon due to his currant attacker‘s advertising his position, and that he didn’t want to end up fighting the whole lot of them again, Trigger attacked first. The ghost’s screeching was cut off sharply as Trigger smashed it into the ground, (which confused some part of his mind as they were able to pass through solid objects) turned and gave it a sharp buck that sent if flying. Then he took off, not even sparing a glance at where the ghost landed.
This time, instead of going through alleys and places where mobility would normally be restricted, Trigger stuck to the streets, mostly empty at the late hour. With no obstacles to dodge, he quickly made his way out of town.
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Trigger landed on the other side of the entrance gate to a small junk yard several miles east of Foalsville. It had taken him a disturbingly short time to travel that distance, and he figured a hiding place would be the wises choice at this point. And the best choice, of course, was this vehicle graveyard. Because you never find creepy, spooky things in creepy, spooky places.
Trigger trotted between wrecked cars and trucks trying one again, to find a suitable place to sleep. He still felt light, be he was careful not to try things he usually couldn’t do. Which brought him back to the reason he was able to in the first place…
Trigger stopped next to a station wagon which seemed to be intact and focused on himself. As mentioned he felt lighter than normal, but other than that there didn’t seem to be much different. Without much luck learning why his weight had changed, he closed his eyes and spread his consciousness out. Earth Pony magic was surprisingly useful after you learned how to use it. For one, you could feel the life force of other living beings around you, and the best part was that it couldn’t be exhausted, whereas unicorn magic could. However, Trigger felt no life around him other than weeds and a few insects.
*Wait…* Trigger thought to himself. *Can I even sense ghosts? I mean there not really alive… Gah, that’s confusing!*
Calming himself, Trigger stood and just felt. He stood there for several seconds before he noticed what he was looking for. It was a very slight shivering in his mind, as if he was thinking about eating lemon.
*That must be her. I hope this works…*
Carefully, he turned his consciousness into himself. He could now feel that she was ’curled up’ in a corner of his mind, but he was unable to touch or move her. After a moment’s contemplation, he tried speaking to her.
*Uh… Hey there. Um, we’re safe I guess….*
There was no response.
*Hey, did’ja hear me? We’re safe. So… you can come out now. I guess.*
After several more seconds he got frustrated.
*Hey!*
She started, making Trigger jump a bit at the weird sudden sensation.
*Hey uh, can you hear me? Am I doing this right?*
There was a pause before she replied.
Trigger sighed I relief.
*I got us out’a town. We’re safe now. You can come out.*
There was another pause.
She started moving about Trigger’s mind, franticly looking for a way out, and making his head spin.
*STOP! That’s not helping. We need to be calm and figure a way out of this.*
She stopped, but still seamed like she wanted to bolt, even though she physically couldn’t, and even if she was out of Trigger’s mind, she still ‘physically’ couldn’t.
*Good. Now, we need to figure out how yo-*
*Beg pardon?*
*Oh. I see… But that doesn’t he-*
She turned and tucked herself back into the corner of his head, and try as he might, Trigger could get nothing more from her.
*Well that’s just great. Oh well, I guess I’d better get some sleep. Who knows what’ll happen with her, and when. I need to be fully rested for whatever happens. Heh, it’s funny. The highlight of tomorrow was a shooting competition. Now at the very least, it’ll be trying to find a way to remove a specter from in my mind..*
Shaking his head, Trigger climbed into the back of the station wagon, which had plenty of room as the third seat was absent. After trying one last time to talk to the little ghost In his head, he gave up with a sigh, closed the door, shucked his saddlebags, stretched himself out on the floor, and quickly fell asleep.
