The Red Eye

Chapters

The Death
The Funeral
The Book
The Drug
The Mare
The Murder

The Death

I hated the mornings, but it was something I had to endure. I slept poorly last night with little rest, my mind was quiet, but my body ached and refused to languish. I shut my eyes and only saw darkness, faint memories shifted through but only briefly. I had recently learned of the death of my mother, though when I received the telegraph, I only just then remembered I had one, my memories of her felt so familiar yet so distant. The telegraph only read "MOTHER JEAN MYSIL PASSED AWAY, FUNERAL TOMORROW, DEEP SYMPATHY." It had my last name, which might as well be true though I felt nothing when reading the line of text presented before me, as if I was just staring at ink on a thin line of paper. After staring at the slip for a few hours, my attention was diverted by the loud dinging of my clock.

I shoved it into my satchel and made my way outside my apartment. The day was as per usual, sunny with little clouds, the sun beaming down onto the buildings of Manehatten, though every time I left my apartment my eyes squinted with a recoil, it felt odd, though everyone else frolicked on happy and content, the usual product of Harmony, I guess. I used to phone booth to call my boss regarding my mother's death, requesting a few days off for the funeral. Under the circumstances, he obviously couldn't refuse though he sounded annoyed, even with his agitation clear I could only respond: "Apologies sir, it's not my fault, you know." His silence told me more than I could ask before the call promptly ended. I felt indifferent having to miss work, but I couldn't do much about it.

My memory failed me again that morning, I failed to remember where my mother lived, I visited the local police outpost to ask for the whereabouts of my mother. The attendant at the counter gave me a peculiar before promptly speaking: "What is the reason for you looking into this resident, dear?" Even with my poor memory, I managed to hold onto the reason. "She is my mother, ma'am, I was told she passed away." The attendants' eyes continued to scan me over, my emotion didn't appear as a grieving son if I could even portray it. "I'm sorry for your loss sir, I'll get the address for you." I watched the attendant promptly get up and go behind the shelving out of my sight. It felt like an eternity waiting, I could hear the muttering from behind the wall, I didn't figure they were discussing me or if they couldn't find the name, maybe I don't have a mother, maybe the telegraph was sent to the wrong person, I don't know.

The attendant eventually returned, carrying a pink slip with some writing on it. "Here is the address for Jean Mysil, sir." I took the slip, reading it over. The text was written in fancy cursive with curly checks marking boxes, with the sun stamped on the back. That Sun, it didn't sit well with something inside me, I stared at it for a bit, my eyes squinting as I looked it over. The attendant interrupted my trance briefly. "Sir?" I quickly looked up, blinking a bit before looking at her. "Is this correct?" I lowered the slip, pocketing it briefly before nodding. "Yes, thank you." The attendant nodded and smiled. "Do you mind leaving your name on our entry form, just for the formality?" I looked down at the open folder she pushed forward on the counter, it had various names, dates, and times, all in different handwriting, some sloppy some neat, and well-printed. I saw some names that stood out more than the others they became uncomfortably familiar.

The attendant once caught me from my trance in the same polite harmonic manner. "Sir? Are you okay?" I raised my head, shaking it a bit. "Yes, yes, sorry." I picked up the pen and wrote my name, "Picardy Mysil. However as I wrote my eyes could not look away from a select few names, Julie Lyt, Mane Tambers, Louise Yuil, and James Mictail. They all felt as if I had seen and heard them many times before though I couldn't think why. The attendant thanked me, giving me a warm smile as she walked out of sight again. I stared at the paper; I didn't think twice about my next actions. I quickly ripped the paper from the folder, folded it up, and placed it into my bag, promptly leaving the outpost.

I took out the slip once again, reading the pretty handwritten address. I figured I should get there by nightfall, the address felt as familiar as the names I saw on that paper. With the 2 o'clock bus, I might as well spend the night there, spend the usual vigil next to the body, and hopefully make it back by the next evening in time for my next shift. It felt too surreal, to me it felt like I never knew this person I was going to mourn for. At least the funeral should put an official seal on it, so to speak, seeing as how unphased I became at the news, I feel as if it'll just be another day. I eventually made it to the bus station, it was a mild evening, not too hot but the sun was intense. I took the 2 o'clock bus down 34th Clawsville St. and had lunch at a local cafe where I usually eat as it's on the same route I take to work. Everyone was very kind to me, oddly enough. I assume news of my mother's death spread fast though I hadn't fancied myself a socialite.

I hardly know any of those expressing their sympathies but eventually, some people I've seen before came into view. I never did like crowds though; After a bit, I made an excuse and promptly left the building. Though my excuse had more merit than most, I was running a bit late after all. I managed to catch the bus, though the walk wasn't short. Still, the heat would make it unbearable. The sun gleamed through the window, I did not like it, so I sat at the very back out of the sun. The rumbling of the engine, the reeking stench of gasoline, and the bouncing frame made me drowsy. I tried to sleep through the trip though as per usual I couldn't. I heard about dreaming, people seeing things in their sleep. I don't remember ever having one myself. I can sleep well other than recently, peculiarly enough. Every time I close my eyes, I see nothing, just darkness as if my mind doesn't want to dream.

I was promptly awakened by the screeching sound of the bus's brakes, the bus conductor coming through the aisle holding out a bowl into which the passengers were putting money. I opened my satchel moments before the conductor got to my seat, placing a one-dollar bill into the bowl before getting off. The evening was still settling in with the usual gold summer lighting as the sun began to set, though in Equestria it sets slower than in other parts. The address wasn't too far off, so I decided to head there on foot. A slim yet tall apartment-like retirement building sandwiched in between two other residences, I entered the bottom floor and entered the registrar, being greeted by the doorkeeper and told to wait for the landlord, as if they were expecting me already. I insisted I see them now however the doorkeeper persisted, implying the landlord was unavailable. I eventually conceded as easy as it was, sitting down in a small living area near the registrar's counter. I waited for an hour, though the lack of thought at the moment made the waiting feel longer as if I could only count the seconds as they went by.

I heard the turning of locks, the wooden door being pushed open revealing a tall grizzled alicorn. I assume he's a veteran, wearing a much older military uniform with a few colorful ribbons lining his left breast pocket. He approached me, and despite his appearance, I did not feel much intimidated, just anxious to get it over with. I stood up, having to raise my head a bit to face him fully as he lowered his. "Picardy Mysil, yes?" I just nodded, not really in much of a mood for conversation. He cleared his throat, "I've known your mother for three years since she started living here, it is a shame to see her pass." I continued to nod and stare, not having much to say if not at all. The landlord went on talking though I didn't pay much attention, he eventually settled down with his monologue and gave a low sigh. "Now then, I suppose you would like to see your mother?" I did not reply, following the grizzled alicorn to the door.

"We moved your mother to our Mortuary just back here, mostly out of the need to not upset the other residents, you understand. Many do not take death lightly." We crossed through some hallways, passing by some of the elderly residents. It was quiet at first though I began to hear their soft chittering behind my back as I followed along. Their voices reminded me of bird song, though not as delightful. The landlord stopped at two large wooden doors near a small building just beyond the courtyard, he turned to me and said, "Well my friend, if you need anything you can find me in my office. The funeral will be held tomorrow as your mother had wanted, the usual friends and family and been invited of course. I will leave you be now." The alicorn left, leaving me alone. I stared at the doors, a bit too afraid to open them but then I heard it again, the chittering voices of onlookers, then the sun beginning to gleam through the windows. This only prompted me to open the doors, albeit respectfully and quietly.

I eventually entered the mortuary. It was a very large and spacious room, well-kept besides some dust resting on surfaces. A few pews rested out in a curved pattern near the coffin. The coffin itself was a nice shiny black finish with the reflection of light emitted by some of the oil lamps lit in the room. Two young ponies dressed in nurse garb stood next to the bier the coffin rested upon. Their heads lifted upon hearing me enter, stepping away as they allowed me to approach the coffin. I gently gripped the rim of the lid, pausing for a bit as I noticed something, no sunlight. The mortuary was as dark as if it was night. It felt odd, not having to see the sunlight for once, especially in the resting place of who I suppose is my mother. I was just about ready to open the coffin when the nurses left the mortuary room without saying a thing. I began lifting the lid the moment I heard the doors shut behind them. I lifted it cautiously, revealing an embalmed well-dressed corpse of an elderly pony, her coat the same as mine, black. Her horn, alike mine, had a dark shade of grey to it. I stared for hours, I guess it was my mother, though even then, even when seeing her lifeless body, I still felt nothing, I still felt as if I was staring at someone I knew less than a parental figure.

My memories of her are vague, almost nonexistent, it was by now I began to feel an emotion though it could only be described as dread. I reached my hoof out, gently caressing her face. However, the moment my hoof made contact with her body, I was blinded by a red flash of light. Images, voices, and memories I have at least thought I never had begun racing through my mind at a rapid pace, all covered by a blood-red hue as I began to tremble. I saw my arms begin to degrade and transform into a chitinous form before I saw my reflection shift from an average pony to a seemingly otherworldly creature bearing two soulless eyes, dagger teeth, and sharp pointy ears. I fell back screaming onto the floor as the lid to the coffin slammed shut. I felt myself, clenching at my chest as all I felt at that moment was dread and fear. I squirmed on the ground before all that I saw went dark at once. I remained on the floor for an hour, no one had come to check on me though I assume no one heard me, at least, I hope. I continued to tremble, gripping onto the brier to pull myself up. I felt embarrassed at that moment, a mixture of fear and anxiety.

I spared no time in leaving the mortuary, in a greater rush than before I continued out of the building. However, the moment I left, being yet again exposed to the summer sun through the windows, I did not run much longer. The halls were much emptier now, it must have been dinner hour. I did not know what I saw, I did not know what I heard or what I was thinking. Maybe all my emotions surfaced at that very moment, I don't know. My head still felt just as empty, and my heart continued to race but eventually, I settled down, I figured I should now find a place to stay overnight for the funeral. A keeper found me wandering the halls, eventually taking me to the landlord as I had requested. I put in my request to stay overnight, though was given a smaller room due to the limited space, but I didn't mind. The landlord went on again, remarking on my mother though I wasn't keen on talking about her, not from what just happened. "We will have to bury the body right after the funeral, I don't want the precession to upset the locals." I listened on, still somewhat distraught.

Night had fallen quickly, the landlord took me back to see Mother and make preparations for tomorrow, though he noticed my being shaken up, assuming it was just a grievance. He suggested I go to the refractory to relax though I wasn't hungry. He left for a bit then returned with some tea. "Thanks," I replied, and then a few minutes later he returned with a cigarette case. Though I wasn't keen on smoking, not at least in the presence of the dead. I thought it over eventually, seeing as it doesn't matter anymore, nothing ever does. I then offered the landlord a cigarette and we both smoked together. It wasn't long until he began talking again. "Friends of your mother will be joining you soon, at least an hour before everyone is supposed to be asleep." I glanced back, giving no verbal reply but a subtle nod. The landlord left again, this time not to come back at least not until the funeral. I sat on one of the pews, staring at the coffin as I tried to recount what I saw, it felt too weird and absurdly surreal, maybe it was just emotion.

My attention was directed to the screeching sounds of the doors opening, in came a few much older men and women. The men were dressed in their usual formal attire, the women wore black dresses with small white aprons around their chests. None of them looked at me, though I could've sworn I saw some glances. For a moment there, I believed they all came in to judge me. As said, I hadn't known my mother had passed until I received the message, I almost forgot I even had one in the first place though I came to accept it pretty quickly. I'm not sure what I was expected to do, I did not live much of a successful life, not enough to support myself and the wellbeing of the elderly. We all sat in silence for a while, only hearing soft weeps and sobs from multiple directions. Directly a few pews in Infront of me sat a much younger woman than the rest, dressed in a similar attire, she sobbed most of the time, much louder than the other members of the vigil, though they didn't seem to notice nor care, just staring at the coffin or whatever they had in sight. The woman continued to sob, I wanted her to stop, rather surprised though I did not know who she was. I dared not speak out though thankfully a Keeper came and whispered something to her, she eventually settled down.

The keeper came and sat next to me, he was a slim figure, a Zebra with the usual stripe pattern though with a less mohawked hairstyle. "She was in charge of your mother's care since you sent her here. They were friends for a while." His remark caught me off guard, but I still said nothing. I felt however that he was placing blame on me for my mother's death but it could always have just been a poor choice of words. The keeper told some stories of Mother and the lady, but I still had nothing to say. After a few quick sobs and nose blows, silence finally returned, the same dull and eerie silence that I have been fondly acquainted with. The silence soon became a little too much, the keeper continued to sit next to me though his head watched around the mortuary, seeing that the back pew has the best view, I guess he didn't just sit here to judge me for something I didn't remember, maybe. I turned my head a bit, whispering a short question. "How long have you been here?" The keeper looked, gave a small smile, and responded. "10 years." His answer came so suddenly one could think he was expecting such a question.

The vigil went on for another few hours until the landlord returned and ushered everyone to their rooms. He eventually went to me and instructed me to head to mine and so I did. I followed the crowd to the living quarters, eventually finding my temporary room at the end of a hallway farther away from the more luxurious bedrooms. My room wasn't as appealing, with a single bed with a wardrobe, a side table, and some space for whatever I wished, therewass a faded painting resting on the corner of a wall. I noticed it had no window, something I was glad for, I was tired of the sun at least for now. I undressed, placing my clothing folded sloppily into the wardrobe, I'm not in much of a mood for cleanliness. It was then I finally yawned, climbing into bed. It felt dull and cold, but it was at least somewhat comfortable. I was just thankful to have a place to sleep at that point. I slowly closed my eyes, expecting to see the usual darkness and emptiness.

Minutes passed and I finally fell asleep. Though only to be awakened by a long droning noise in my head. I found myself not in my room but resting on cold hard ground covered in charcoal-like dust. I stood up to look around, seeing nothing but endless jagged terrain covered in the same material I was resting on. The sky was blood red, dark clouds zooming overhead at fast speeds though there was hardly any wind. The droning sound only got louder and louder. I gripped my head though it did nothing as expected, it felt as if my head was going to explode. I took a few steps forward, attempting to traverse the mysterious landscape. I wore nothing, but it didn't matter under these circumstances. Is this a dream? Is this what they mean by seeing things in your sleep? I approached a cliff resting upon a flatland, looking over I saw symbols, large stick-like structures off to the sides of a large white path leading to a seeming ball of white reddish light. As I encroached on the pathway the symbols began to take shape, resembling tridents, claws, crescents, and the sun symbol I see so much. As I walked down the path, one by one the symbols crumbled into the dust that makes up most of the surface. I got closer to the glowing light before soon being right in front of it. I stared at it for a bit, reaching out to feel it before the droning became too much for me to bear.

I eventually woke up with a gasp, still in bed, all I saw was darkness though eventually after groping around I found the switch to the oil lamp, I grasped onto the bed sheets tightly. I refused to sleep the rest of the night, expecting to see such an unnerving sight again if I did. But it didn't matter, I had a dream, and it was horrifying.

The Funeral

I stayed up again the whole night, too afraid to go back to sleep. I sat in my bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling trying my best to recount on what I saw, though it was pointless, my mind couldn't recall. Eventually, I saw the clock strike seven I figured that's when every pony gets up around here. It was odd not to have the sun to tell you it was morning and instead just the usual clockwork. I didn't expect to stay after the funeral, albeit I had the whole day to myself. This place felt too depressing if that's even a good way to describe it, combined with what I experienced I had no interest in staying any further. I visited the refectory and grabbed some coffee and a scone. I hadn't eaten in ages though I still didn't feel hungry despite. The scone tasted old and stale, but still had a sweet flavor to it, the texture was just as bright and gleeful as those outside. I only took a few bites before discarding the rest. I looked at the clock on the wall, I never got a time for the funeral, I assume it would be whenever is appropriate to be more flexible though I assume it would be at noon just so every pony can visit, then go back to lunch or whatever.

I waited in the courtyard, under a tree. I felt odd being couped in my small room, the shade was anyway ways. I sniffed the smells of the cool earth, feeling myself become less drowsy, perhaps I did need some sun today. Then I thought get my co-workers at the news office. At this hour they’d be getting up, readying themselves for a long shift, though for me this was always the worst hour of the day. I never liked my work though it kept my mind occupied, sometimes I wish I could stay in the darkness of my apartment forever. I went on thinking and thinking for about ten minutes or so; then the sound of a bell inside the building distracted me from my "deep thought". I could see movement behind the windows, then all was calm again. The keeper came across the yard and said the landlord wished to see me. I went to his office, and he got me to sign some documents and pay some fees. The landlord soon picked up the telephone receiver and looked at me, clearing his throat.

"Our undertakers arrived a few moments before I called you here, they finished preparing your mother for the funeral and are waiting to finish nailing the casket shut. Should I have them wait for you to see your mother before the procession?"

"No," I replied, I felt regret behind my words, but I felt it was the best, especially after what had happened. He seemed surprised by my answer, slowly placing the receiver back down. "Alright then..." He then mumbled some words into the receiver before clamping it back down. I continued to stand on the other side of his desk, the lord informed me he was also going to attend the funeral. I thanked him and took a seat. Besides the Keepers and other Nurses, he informed me that he and I would be the only mourners. He explained it was the rule of the land, his land, to not allow the other residents to participate in the funeral itself, rather just the vigil. "It's for the sake of everyone else." He explained, " But in this particular instance I’ve permitted an old friend of your mother to come with us. His name is James Mictail." My eyes promptly lit up, I recognized that name, it was on the sheet at the police outpost, one of the many that I seemed to remember vividly.

The warden grinned as he went on. "It's a sweet story between those two. He and your mother became inseparable. It used to be a running joke that they're bound to get married someday." The warden chuckled though I just listened on, still stunned to hear that name again. His demeanor changed a bit. "So, as you can imagine he feels awful about your mother's death, I couldn't refuse him." We sat in silence for some time, only with the faint music from a vinyl player in the corner of the lord's office with soft scratching between each note. The lord broke the silence, lifting his watch wrist to his, face, and got up from his seat. "I think it's about time we head over to the Mortuary." I followed suit, and we went downstairs back to the courtyard. I noticed things were just about the same, I guess he wasn't kidding. We approached the mortuary's entrance at the end of the courtyard, a young priest stood at the door wearing a white robe with gold highlights on his arms and torso. A younger acolyte stood in front, holding a censer with light steam leaking out. The priest greeted me and the lord as we both gave small head bows; "Welcome, my friends." And he led the way into the mortuary.

I noticed a group of men dressed in all black stood next to the coffin, the nails had already been driven in. The lord patted my shoulder and went off into the light crowd, telling me to hold a second. I stood there, everyone else was talking and conversing, not paying much attention to me at the very least, though I figured I had received some glances. Everyone was talking about their lives, the latest galloping g, alas, and test festivities around Equestria. The priest eventually made it to the pedestal after speaking with the men dressed in black. He began his speech like any other, recounting the life of Mother, there, and as per usual I hadn't remembered any of it. He began the prayer which lasted only a minute, after that everyone began to move again, and the aforementioned men and the priests moved to the coffin. The lord returned eventually with someone else, a pony with a pristine white coat and blue sparkling hair. "Ah mister Mysil, I would like you to meet James Mictail." It was him, the pony the name belonged to, though I hadn't recognized his appearance. Mictail smiled, reaching a hoof out to me. "A pleasure." I nodded back, shaking his. Lordlord spoke once more, "I was just telling him about your relationship with Jean. -" Before the lord could speak the Priest spoke once more while the men dressed in black began moving the coffin into the aisle, causing everyone to shuffle out of the way. "We will be moving outside to the graveyard for the burial portion."

The coffin was lifted off the bier and hauled outside. The priest beckoned everyone to follow though some remained in the mortuary. I followed the lord who walked with Mictail as they talked on, though as they talked, I noticed Mictail glance back at me with a squint. I pretended to be looking elsewhere the moment I saw his head move, I didn't know what to think. sly knew something I didn't, the moment I saw him I felt as if he was actively trying to figure me out. I passed the Zebra keeper on the way out of the building to the grave site, he gave me a friendly smile and a nod before returning to the residency. I only gave a small wave; the shuffling crowd made it hard to give a proper hello, but it was something. The coffin was loaded into a pristine hearse, the car drove slowly as the crowd followed behind with the priest ahead. It was a good five minutes to the graveyard, my eyes constantly glanced at Mictail though he didn't seem to be returning the gesture anymore.

The hearse came to a stop at the gated entrance of the local graveyard, just a few miles from where my mother supposedly used to live. The same group of men removed the coffin, carrying it into the graveyard as the crowd once again followed behind. There a fresh hole, shaped like a massive rectangle going down at least twelve feet, sat puncturing the ground. I immediately caught the whiff of the fresh earth as the Priest waited at the entrance, ushering everyone in. I followed the lord and Mictail to the front. The coffin was placed on a platform, the priest gave a few words and lightly splashed some water onto the coffin before it was finally lowered into the hole. We watched as the hole was sealed by a stone covered, I guess they were going to fill the hole later. I originally hoped this would be the end of it, but after what happened in the mortuary, my dream and even meeting the person one of the many names belonged to, the last few days was all but normal.

I stayed for a bit, staring at the coffin as the crowd began to dissipate. Everyone went their separate ways, the lord's staff returned to the retirement home and everyone else went in multiple directions. I didn't see Mictail or the lord, I figure they both returned. Though as I walked back Mictail stopped me on the sidewalk. "Apologies, I didn't get to properly introduce myself to you friend." I stared at him for a second, before responding. "It's no worries." Mictail chuckled and looked up. "Your mother didn't mention a lot about you. I was surprised she had a son." I was anxious to get moving again, his piercing stare made me just want to shove him aside and run away. "Well, anyways, the moon will be rising in a bit." That phrase caused me to freeze up, Mictail definitely noticed but he seemed unaffected, he just flashed a warm smile and walked off. I stood still for a minute; I felt a ringing in my ear as if my mind was going to explode but I didn't react. I saw flashes of faint memories and images, familiar to those I saw when I visited, over time they degraded, a red hue descending over them. Then my mind went dark, but I felt as if I had something to do, but what?

With the day already almost over I returned to the retirement center, gathered my things, said my thanks to the lord for letting me stay, and bid farewell to those I'd met there. I left without giving much thought, I did have many leisure plans, bufiguredgure I should do something with the time I had left before I had to go back to my apartment. Memories of the freeware were burnt into my mind, the sounds, the sights, for instance, once I stood momentarily next to the same woman I saw cry during the vigil. I got to see the front of her face this time, full of despair and grief, tears streaming down her face. I never saw that much care someone had for another, let alone have that many tears. I remember the look of the church, the faces of others during the procession, the glistening black finish of the coffin, and the face of James Mictail. With the hour left, I had, I decided to dine at a local cafe, it was much smaller than the one near my apartment with fewer people, something I appreciated. I looked over the sheet of names once more, just staring at the name "James Mictail" for a while until a waitress interrupted me in asked what I wanted. I only ordered something light that day since I didn't have much time left.

I got lost in my head again just thinking about what I saw, so I nearly forgot about my bus. I eventually came back to my senses and rushed to the bus station, taking the 2 o'clock bus back to my street. On the way home I rMotherhers obituary, it had no mention of me though Mictail was all over it, being mentioned every few pages. She held herself to a high standard though was openly accepting of her condition as if it was fact, something I neglected to inquire while at the mortuary; how did she die? The obituary didn't give much of a clue either, only referring to it as "my condition". I didn't give too much thought to it, I rather put the whole ordeal behind me and get back to how things were before the news. The bus ride was long as per usual, making the usual stops with the occasional breakdown. The rumbling engine and stench of gasoline seem stronger though I didn't mind it, I preferred sitting in the back, out of the light and all.

Upon returning home, I understood why my boss seemed to be upset by my calling out. It was a Thursday then which meant I got four days of vacation, I guess some could expect him to be tilted by that. Still, for one thing, it wasn't my fault Mother was buried yesterday; and then again, I would've had the weekend off anyhow, but that still didn't make me not understand my boss' position more. It was night upon returning, though even Equestria "night" never meant "dark". The stars still shined bright, and the moonlight lit up the streets even without the help of the streetlights. Around here the moon was often associated with another deity similar to Celestia, Luna. I never saw myself as religious, and even Celestia herself beckons those not to worship her, despite being essentially a goddess. I didn't care though, it doesn't affect me, at least not yet.

My apartment building was cheap but old. It always smelt like old carpet and rotting wood, but it felt like home. I never knew my neighbors though I'm starting to believe I'm the only one, but I see people come and go now and then. I walked up the steps though I paused for a bit, turning around. I had a feeling something was eyeing me up, I don't know what though. I walked up the steps faster now, it was an odd feeling to have. I reached my apartment, being greeted with the old smell and the dim lightbulb flickering gently. I pushed open my apartment door and immediately shut it, locking it out of the usual cautiousness. I assumed it was nothing but something inside made me think it was something, though I continued with my usual routine. I put my things away, brushed my coat, and got into bed. I felt more accustomed to the night, it made it hard to sleep though I rather not be sledding in the However it crossed me that it was the weekend so I wouldn't have to worry about my anyway ways.

Rather than sleeping I simply sat in bed, staring at the ceiling as my mind went back to its usual blank state. It was hard to properly through vague memories coming now and then. I wondered, however, if I slept would I dream again, it seemed worth trying though the last one I had was something I rather not see again. I never saw a doctor regarding my supposed insomnia, but at times I visited the local pharmacy and grabbed some medications supposedly to help my body finally rest and shut down. I reached into the medication cabinet, grabbing a small plastic contaiand ner then later a small glass of water. I twisted the cap off and pulled out a sizeable bicolor pill with a blue and white tip on both sides. I swallowed the pill with the help of the water. At that moment I immediately got drowsy, passing out on the spot. All I saw was darkness, before sounds of footsteps then flashes of light then the sounds of distant explosions and gunfire.

My eyes slowly opened, and I was back again resting on the black dust-covered ground, though something was different. I noticed I was wearing a uniform, an old style that I had never seen before bearing a strange symbol I could not describe. I had a rifle clenched to my chest, then the sights of dark figures rushing past dressed the same and carrying similar weapons. I got up from the ground, everyone seemed in a hurry all rushing in the same direction, the terrain was jagged and familiar from the thought that all around me was chaos almost like a war. I began to move, straining to breathe though my chest did not move. I head in the same direction as everyone else at the same pace, I quickly began to run out of breath even though I only moved a few feet, before being pinned down by a large, winged creature the size of a pony completely black as if it was a rabid bird. It screeched in my face and raised its claw-like hoof to take a swipe, following a loud crack the creature dissipated, another figure came up to me with an arm extended out and as they approached they seemed to have a less dark appearance, their face was slowly revealed like a veil being lifted off the face of a bride, they seemed to have a fanged snout with two color filled eyes, just like I saw in my reflection at the funeral.

But the moment I could even get a glimpse of their face they disappeared into the air again as did everything else. I slowly reemerged from the ground, the weapon and the uniform gone leaving me naked. I saw it again, however, the big light, though it was much closer. "What game is this to you!" I called out while rushing up to it. I heard whispers but saw no one but me and the light directly ahead. The moment its beam of light hit my body I awakened from my dream am, collapsed on the ground with a few utensils and the container of pispilledpilt onto the floor. My coat was soaked from the water spilling on me, I was surprised that hadn't woken me up. I pushed myself up again, confuddled by what I saw once like like my old dream, it made no sense. Who was that? Why do they all feel the same? What the Tartarus does the light mean? I had too many questions. I saw the morning sun dimly shine through the blinds of my windows, it was day a,gain and yet I still felt drowsy.

The Book

With the new day ahead of me I got up from the floor, cleaned myself up and got dressed once more. Getting up was an effort, as I’d been really exhausted by the previous day’s experiences. The day felt fresher, though my mind felt clouded and confused. I spent a good hour figuring how I should spend the morning, before deciding to go on a walk to clear my head. I liked staying in the dark but after last night the dark only felt more antagonistic. I exited my apartment into the sunny day, everyone else was out on the town as per the weekend, streets were more crowded and there wasn't any shortage of traffic on the road. As happy as everyone was, I kept to myself, I walked a good few miles before stopping to dine at the same cafe as last time. Only a few greeted me as if everyone had forgotten the funeral. I sat for a bit, just looking out the window though it was then I saw something on the other side of the road, a pony wearing all dark looking directly at me, dressed just like some did at the funeral.

I got up from my seat slowly, if they were looking at me, I didn't want to seem like I saw them. I immediately walked to the door, passing through the crowded sidewalks and to the road cross. But as I looked over the figure I saw was not there anymore. They could've had left as I left the cafe, which means they could have saw me, or they weren't there at all. I didn't envy either, I felt more uneased as I pondered about it. But that didn't stop my curiosity, the intersections lights turned red as everyone began crossing both directions. I kept my head low, accidentally bumping into a mother and their child, the kid cried but I kept walked on as the mother tried to stop me, but I didn't care enough. I reached the other side of the street, a soft bell ringed out and the lights turned green, the sounds of rumbling engines turned into tire screeches and cars zooming past. I looked around the sidewalk for a sign of the individual but saw nothing.

I did notice however a gate to the alleyway near where he stood, the gate swaying as if it was recently opened. I took my time walking there, still not wanting to look inconspicuous. I stepped past the gate before someone could shut it, though all I saw were two dumpsters and the spine of a book poking out from under one. The concrete ground was moist as the alleyway felt cool, the whole area shaded. I approached the dumpster, looking around to make sure no one necessarily followed me, or if the individual I saw was still around. I picked up the book, it had a thick leathery case with a small string dangling from the bottom, the book was covered in grime, but the leather case protected the book from the elements. I heard footsteps coming from the other way, causing me to quickly put the book into my coat and leave the alleyway the same way I came. Though as I peered around the corner, I only saw an individual carrying a trash bag, they lifted the hood up and threw it in following a slam.

I was semi hoping it was the person coming back, but now that I come to think of it, it was probably nothing. I left the gateway, heading down the road. I met with some coworkers of mine, two young male ponies one dressed in overalls and a tweed cap the other wearing a coat and the usual trousers. They nodded to me as I walked up, offering a cigarette. I agreed to the offer, taking it and letting them light it for me. We both exchanged some glances before one finally spoke. "Rough week eh Picardy? We didn't see you at work." One of the ponies spoke, puffing out some smoke before sticking the cigar back into his mouth. He used to be a factory worker of some kind, did a lot of heavy lifting which made him bulkier than the rest of us, but he always had a knack for writing, we never knew his last name, only calling him "Flemmingway" after the business he used to work for. Before I could respond the other pony elbowed Flemmingway with a snicker. "Of course he had a rough week dumbass his mam died." He had a thick accent, forever a city boy who grew up delivering papers and working for the press, so it'd make sense why he would be up there now making the papers themselves, it just pays well, I guess. He was much slimmer than Flemmingway, going by the name of Ernest, I don't know his last name, but everyone else certainly does.

"Yeah, I'm sure boss was upset." I responded, puffing out some smoke. "He was tilted the whole day you were gone, I guess he wanted that four-day vacation too." Flemmingway and Ernest chuckled, I rolled the cigar a bit, nodding with a slight grin though it didn't last long. "Sorry for your loss, by the way." Ernest responded, "I didn't wanna seem too rude or anythin'." I shrugged, pulling the cigar out. "Couldn't be helped, not like it's your problem anyhow." We all nodded at each other before going back to the smoking. I couldn't stand the smell of burning tobacco, but it was very easing to me, we all continued to stare off into space, glancing around the busy street as we simply enjoyed each other's company. Flemmingway pointed out into the crowd across the street with his cigar hoof, causing us all to look up. "See that broad across the street yea? Long hair?" Ernest looked up, shaking his head, "Yea what about er', you better not be getting pervy on us again boy." Flemmingway chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, we bumped into each other last night after I was heading home, I think she likes me." Ernest bapped his head, "What? No way some pretty gal is interested in your ugly bum." I watched the lady walk past on the other side as the two talked, not paying attention to their banter.

"Ack! Hey! It's true! She gave me her address and everything, said her name was Louise Vuil or somethin'." Another one of the names, again. I paused for a bit; my eyes more focused on her as she walked on as I perked up a bit. "Louise you said?" Flemmingway looked up. "Yea, that's right, what about it Picardy you looking to steal her?" He laughed a bit along with Ernest though I gave no chuckle back. "No... Just... That name seems familiar..." Flemming shrugged and Ernest gave a head tilt. "Familiar, eh? You've met?" I shook my head, explaining the check in list though I only got halfway through before the lady disappeared, I barely got a good look. "Definitely met em' then, can't think of any other reason, you barely get out anyhow." They chuckled again, I rested my body back down, scoffing at them as I puffed out some smoke at the two, giving a light chuckle.

We all laughed and hanged out until our cigars were all burnt out and smushed on the ground. Ernest spoke up, "We're dining at the tavern just down yonder tonight if you wanna join us, maybe you'll see that gal again!" He chuckled out. I agreed, though not out of the desire to get drunk but just to have a chance to maybe see that lady again. "Anyhow we're going to take a stroll to the harbor, might go swimming even, wanna come along?" Ernest stood up from the post as Flemmingway did so as well. I hesitated but I agreed anyhow. I followed behind them as we walked on, catching a trolley down to the Manehatten harbor, almost forgetting about the book.

Nearing the harbor, I was already blasted with the stench of sea water. Seagulls squawking overhead following some distance ship horns. We hopped off the trolley, near the harbor was a large swimming area, almost like a beach though one wouldn't call it a tropical paradise. We trotted down to the beach itself past the flood wall, the beach wasn't as crowded as the sidewalks were, though there still was a bunch of folks out and about. The sand was warm, and the morning sun was light, with some of the sand speckles glimmering. Ernest grabbed a piece of plywood and jammed it into a sand within a small clearing. "Cmon, put your shit here before someone thinks we're crazy." Ernest removes his coat, tying it around the stake as I did the same, putting my satchel around it as well. Flemmingway just left his cap on the very tip of the stake.

We both headed out into the water, soaked our hoofs up and just stood around a bit, Ernest and Flemmingway just scouted out some ladies on the beach while I looked out into the horizon. It was still morning, and the sun was still settling itself in the sky. As much as I hated the bright light of day, it felt relaxing to say the least. The sounds of waves crashing and seagulls squawking made for a nice relaxing atmosphere. After some time, we all sat on the shore, chucking rocks and seashells into the water as apart of some dumb game Flemmingway came up with though only to flaunt his strength, to see who can make the farthest throw, he won every round. We went out a little deeper for a bit, getting our coats soaked up by the salt water as we all chatted about certain things.

"What did I miss last week?" I mentioned, I knew I missed two days' worth, but anything can happen within that short time span. Ernest raised his head after splashing Flemmingway a bit. "Well, uh, we got done with those articles about the missing folk, not much other than that." I was a part of that writing assignment, a few years before the funeral some people apparently went missing, some were found but weren't the same though they easily get reacquainted with life, can't say the same about the others though. I wasn't much concerned about the information, we just got the information from the police or journalists and put it into newspaper form, then we sell it to the public for a few cents. Flemmingway spoke up, "Oh yea, Zoe got fired, she got caught using some sort of drug in the bathroom." He snickered out, "Oh yea I forgot about that." Ernest laughed with.

Zoe, I didn't know her last name, was supposedly one of the missing ponies but she kept insisting she never was despite the records saying she couldn't be found for almost a month. Kept telling us that she was away too New Mareland to visit family, making random excuses for specific times when she would've been home. As weird as it seemed we all eventually stopped asking questions. The police didn't seem to care anyhow, only that since she's back and obviously not missing anymore it isn't much of a concern, at least not to them. "What was she taking anyhow?"

Ernest shrugged, "They never gave us an official report, but boss said it looked like a vial of purple stuff and you know how anti 'fun' he is about all the pleasureful things in life." Ernest went on. "At that point he just wanted her out, didn't care about any formalities." After that neither of us mentioned anything about work, we simply stared on at the horizon as the sun got a little brighter. Eventually we returned back to shore, we figured we should let the sun dry us off, no point in searching for spare towels. We rested a further bit from the shore for a few hours, letting the sun do the work as we watched the beach, ponies tanning with some foals running around playing with a ball. The beach slowly got more crowded overtime, acting as a queue to head out. We grabbed our things and left though as I grabbed my coat and satchel, I notice the clip was up, as if it was tampered.

I figured it was nothing however, though after checking the contents everything was still in there, even my book. I joined my colleagues along the pier. We were out for almost the whole day, exploring and scouting out women. We smoked on a ledge facing the shipyards, we could see almost every ship in dry dock, massive lumbering pieces of metal with guns bolted down head and tail, they were neat to look at. I noticed some crew working on the decks, some carrying tools and equipment around while one operated a power drill. "I wonder if I'll be able to get aboard one of those, I always wanted a ship." Ernest spoke out, though Flemmingway snickered. "Oh, yea you plan on stealing one of em'?" Ernest teasingly elbowed his side. "Nah I'll be in command of one of them, then all of you lot will have to call me sir!"

I could see Ernest being in the military but not as someone as high up as a commander. He was slim, quick and handy but is terrible whenever he was temporarily in charge of the office whenever our boss was out. Frankly I've never been confident in myself in the same position. There has been talks of light drafts to fill up the ranks of the Equestrian military, but they've all seemed to just to have been attempts to scare people into joining the social services or get industrial jobs since those people are usually immune to draft. The sun soon began to set over the horizon as the sky slowly darkened with a orange glow descending over the city itself. Flemmingway stood up from his spot, "Let's go to the tavern before the factory workers take up the entire place, again." We all get up and head back further inland, taking a trolley back into the city.

I almost forgot about the tavern, but I didn't protest since I did agree to it after all. The trolley screeched to a halt; the city was always more alive on the weekend nights. Music echoing and cars still zooming through the roads, the sidewalks weren't as busy though. We all got off and head back down the road, though at the same place we were once at was now covered in some posters. I read some as we stopped to look. "More missing ponies, it seems." Ernest said with a more depressive demeanor. The posters bared the faces of happily smiling ponies with the word MISSING written at top in all bold, with contact information for the police department just below the portraits in small red text, and of course an award. The rest were simply work advertisements, and of course military recruitment posters. "More than one this time, I guess we'll be busier at the office next week." Flemmingway sighed, we continued to walk eventually reaching the tavern.

Music echoed from the interior along with the sounds of loud talking. Upon entering revealed a large crowding dining area, a long bar sitting at the end with a pianist playing music for a young pretty mare singing a song on the stage to the right. Flemmingway sighed, "So much for getting here on time." We all walked in, trying to find an empty table though only met with head shakes and angry scowls. "I guess we can wait, the billiards is open though." As we walked, a more brutish Unicorn enjoying their drink pushed out from the chair to stand, his chair slammed into me causing him to spill his whole drink onto himself, sending me to the ground in the process. Enraged the unicorn turned around, he wore thick dirty overalls with a white stained black wifebeater, smut covering his cheeks and arms as he immediately turned to grab me, sending a hoof against my face, striking my eye. "You stupid brat, that drink cost me a good one, you gonna pay for it?" He spoke in a deep voice, his eyes locked onto me as I recovered from the fall, Ernest and Flemingway backing off a bit as they watched me, waiting for my response. I thought of what to say, though an instinct kicked in I couldn't describe.

I stared at the Unicorn; my now black eye twitching. Then I saw all around me the eyes of everypony watching, then again, I saw that same symbol, the sun, everywhere, even tattoo'd onto the leg of the Unicorn before me. Deep inside I felt conflicting interests one wanting me to stay back and continue lying low another wanting me to kill the brute facing me down. I tried to hold myself back but something inside broke. Next thing I know it, my hoof is slamming into the snout of the unicorn at full force, causing them to stumble. The unicorn yelled out, his snout bleeding as he pushed against the table. I moved out of the way the moment he regained momentum, causing the raging unicorn to hit against the stage, causing the stage girl to fall back. I took the opportunity, lunging forth and tackling him like a rabid animal. I slammed my hoof repeatedly into his face. I felt I could go on for hours and hours, before Ernest pulled me back. The unicorn was beaten and bloodied, lying on the ground seemingly passed out, I probably gave him a concussion. His friends circled around, all eyeing me with angry looks as we quickly left without saying anything.

Ernest and Flemmingway laughed as they carried me out. "Oh, you showed him! I think he pissed himself!" Flemingway joked, "You're quite the killer huh Picardy?" I didn't say anything, exhausted as the adrenaline vanished, I never felt such rage in a while, let alone emotion. Ernests chuckling smile quickly vanished as he saw me not responding. They hurried me to a bench once we gained distance from the tavern, Flemingway waving his hat in my face. "Hey? You still with us?" I reached to rub my head, slapping his hat out of the way. "My eye hurts..." I grunted out as I sat up, looking at both of them. "Well duh, he got you pretty good. I think the tavern plans can wait for now at least." We all looked at each other before laughing out, remarking on the fight and the Unicorns face once he saw me lunge. That was the first time I felt joy, hate and rage at the same time, and it felt good.

Ernest and Flemingway helped me get home that night, Flemingway had left the moment we got to my apartment, though Ernest stayed for a bit, helped me get to bed and tended to my eye with whatever he could find. "Not a doctor myself but I think you should be ok; I wouldn't go near the factories for a while though." He lightly chuckled. "Thanks Ernest..." I replied, resting my head against my pillow. "Hey, don't worry about it, I'll see you Monday." I nodded and smiled; Ernest then left. I sat in bed for a while, looking up at the ceiling as I grinned, chuckling to myself. It then hit me, the book I found. I had a small curiosity for it like a child awaiting to open a present at the end of the day. I slowly got out of bed, holding the icepack Ernest gave me against my eye. My body ached though I still got up, heading to my desk and turning on my oil lamp. I pulled out the book, brushing off the cover to read it.

Krivbeknih

I squinted at it, raising a brow as I flipped through it. The text was filled with stories, gibberish and recounts describing the "forgotten god" as it is described in the book. Then I saw instructions for rituals, even sacrifices. A name was constantly repeated throughout each page, "Ug-Qualtoth" as they're described to be some form of deity. I have heard of gods other than the two sisters and whatever it was the griffons believed in, but never one by this name. The more I read the more I began to feel a familiar sense of dread. Certain words were completely redacted out of the text, entire paragraphs missing with one page having an entire page of text missing, instead replaced with something hastily written.

Equestria is a wicked place, unwilling servants to a false god slowly being transformed into cogs of the great machine. For this crimes, Ug-Qualtoth shall send us the Angel to purify these lands, to berid of the false gods and preachers of the old ways. Harmony is a lie; it is not what it seems. Lunarists, Solarists, they all are the same, and shall be purified by the Angel, by will of our god, our true god. No one will stand in our way.

It felt as if I was reading a propaganda leaflet, but to me it seemed to make sense. I continued to flip through the pages, eventually reaching the end where I noticed was hollowed out, a small silk cover on top of something. It was then I felt absolute dread and fear. I suddenly heard whispers, almost intelligible though sounded like the same gibberish I just read. I slowly removed the cover, revealing a dull jagged knife with engravings marked all over it. I slowly gripped the handle; it being made out of a fine leather finish. Upon touching it my body froze up, I stared at its dull yet sharp blade as thoughts began racing through my mind again similar to those I saw at the funeral. I heard whispers and voices almost completely unintelligible but only few could make sense, "Malden", "Angel", "Blood". The blade fell from my hand, ending the short sensation. I gripped at my head, the voices going quiet, though out of the corner of my eye I saw a note resting in my bag. I reached to grab it, the paper was yellowed with a few hastily scribbled words on it, reading:

The Angel shalleth yield the tooth of Kremvh. And with the blade, will purify Equestria. The blood of Harmony shall empower you.

The message was clear, confusing but clear. It felt like a horrible joke, but the sense of dread felt too real to ignore. I slowly put the knife back into the book. I was tempted to destroy it or turn it in to the police. But something inside said otherwise, I placed the book back into my satchel and hanged it on the rack. I figured I should try to understand it further or find who left it under the dumpster, but that is for another time.

The Drug

Sunday went by quickly, I enjoyed my time with my colleagues though they seemed to be preoccupied today, Flemingway chasing after a mare and Ernest taking care of his parents. I spent most of the day sitting in my apartment, trying to think and wonder though my mind still felt empty despite the recent dreams I'd had. I hadn't eaten all day though oddly enough it didn't bother me; I just wasn't hungry at all for some reason. After a bit of sitting and staring, I spent some hours going through the "Krivbeknih" again, trying to make out some of the gibberish and instructions it gave. Any pony would see this book as something that should be either turned in or discarded, even I felt the dread emitting from it though I didn't have much care. I'm not sure if it was more natural curiosity, or if I had some emotional connection with it. I don't know, I just couldn't bear having to send it off, it felt too important.

At times I began to hear voices and whispers in the distance speaking in gibberish similar to the book. But as all whispers are I barely could make out exactly what they said, or if they were there to begin with? I eventually checked the time, and seeing as it was nearly past no one I figured I should get up and grab the daily newspaper before they were all gone. I grabbed my things, placed the book into my bag, and made my way to the door. However as I reached the door, I saw a silhouette pass by the window, my floor is fairly abandoned with very rarely having any more than three tenants, including me. I opened the door and stepped out into the light, there stood Mictail against the railing smoking a cigar as he turned to look at me. "Ah, Picardy there you are." I froze up, staring him down as I made short glances around. The pony threw his cigar onto the ground, smashing it with his hoof. "I was just coming to check on you, you're pretty much all I have left of Jean." He spoke in an intimidating yet assuring way as if he had a more ulterior motive behind his visit.

"Thank you, James, I'm doing alright." Mictail raised a brow, looking me dead in the eyes. "You don't seem pretty phased, even with the black eye you got from picking a fight with a Unicorn huh?" My head lifted a bit, I was somewhat shocked by him knowing of the fight, he doesn't even live around these parts. "How do you know about that?" I asked, my inquiry only seemed to annoy him. "That doesn't matter my boy. I was just making sure you're okay." He gave a smile, almost like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "Here I got something for you, I noticed you were very tense at the funeral and I'm sure that brawl didn't help." Mictail pulled out a small sack tied shut by a shoddy string, it made soft clanking noises like glass vials. "These usually help whenever I feel stressed, so it should help you." I took the sack, looking at him firmly as though not to let my guard down. Despite his friendly gesture I felt intimidated, continuing to stare as I muttered a soft "Thanks." Mictail obliged, turning around and walking off. I stood still for a few seconds, slowly moving a few muscles before attempting to follow him, though he immediately was nowhere to be seen.

I looked at the small sack in my hands. The fabric was too thick for me to get a clear glimpse of what could be inside. I looked around for a bit, Mictail was still nowhere in sight, but I felt as if they could still be around just waiting for me to open it. I hesitated to do anything further, either go back into my apartment or go back to what I was doing. I took a few steps down the hall, but still no sign. I felt unnerved by his visit, being a friend of my mother, or at least used to be, he seemed to know me well even to know where I lived. As much as I wanted to shrug it off and continue with my day, I could not forget the look on his face when he greeted me, it was as if his eyes were piercing into my very being, acting as if he knew me for ages, but we only met a few days ago, they know something I don't. I left my apartment building down the sidewalk, my eyes still looking around and behind though eventually I gave up on looking out, the only thing I'd have to worry about would be that Unicorn coming back for a second round. Being a Sunday morning there weren't many ponies out, many were just walking or waiting to catch a bus or cab, thankfully the newspaper dispenser wasn't crowded yet.

I pulled out a coin and slipped it into the machine, a soft ding ringing out. I heard the soft click as the latches popped off the cover door. I grabbed a newspaper, the front drenched in paragraphs of the same usual stories. I took the paper to the nearest bench, sitting next to an elder pony sleeping with his hat covering his face and snout. I sighed under my breath, reading through the paper. It was the usual per se, weather predictions, news regarding the upcoming galloping galas, and other events at Canterlot. It was nothing new, the missing people's articles were still printed with their special page. One of them was written by me, my style of writing had much to desire, but it got the message across. My language felt depressive though it was the reality, people went missing, some were found, and some were not. The police doing everything they can to figure it out and bring the missing home. Behind the paper were the photos of the missing individuals and the ones that went missing but were found. I looked at the portraits, though something caught my eye regarding one of the found.

One portrait had fangs, though before when we saw it in the office it didn't. Over time as I stared it seemed as if the portrait transformed in front of my eyes, degrading into a bug-like creature. I rubbed my eyes with my hoofs, blinking repeatedly. The portrait was normal afterward, back to being a normal pony on the paper. I shook my head a bit before rubbing my eyes and gripping my head. My eyes felt strained, and I felt as if I was getting a migraine. The sun was more intense today, or at least it was to me, it glared into my eyes causing me to squint. I never hated the sun before; I just wanted it to go away. It was such a confusing feeling I've been experiencing since my mother's death; I couldn't explain it and it irritated me. I ripped the paper in half out of frustration, pushing it into the trash before heading back to my apartment. I got some looks from some onlookers, but I didn't care enough to acknowledge any of them, I just wanted to be alone.

I had a busy morning in the office the next day, a Monday. My boss was in a good mood which he rarely is. He even inquired if I wasn’t too tired and followed it up by asking what Mother’s age was. I thought a bit, then answered, “I believe around about sixty,” as I didn’t want to make a blunder. At which he looked relieved. Why, I can’t imagine and seemed to think that closed the matter. Ernest sat at his desk in the same focused spirit as ever with his eyes focused on his work, though he didn't seem to be enjoying it and I couldn't blame him. The series of stories coming through kept tying into the cases of missing people, only a few had some good news though they were often very bleak. There was a pile of bills waiting on my desk, and I had to go through them all one by one. I washed my hoofs just before lunch, I always enjoyed this at midday. In the evening it was less pleasant, as the roller towel, after being used by so many people, was sopping wet. I once brought this to my boss's attention. It was regrettable, he agreed.

Our building overlooks the sea, just near the harbor, the floor I looked on has a pretty swell view of the ocean and all the folk playing out there. However, I didn't have the privilege of working near the window. Our boss sat in his office surrounded by thin glass panes as we worked, smoking a fat New Mareland cigar while we all typed away. A few young ponies from our Circulation department stopped by to deliver the usual news and spoke to our boss before promptly being shouted at called lazy and incompetent before being sent on their way. We worked under a hard ass for sure, but our boss knew how to get things done. Ernest came up to me for a bit and asked me to proofread his paragraph before he sent it off to ethe ditorial. I shrugged and took it anyway, he leaned against my desk as I went over it, striking some lines and making some notes, I didn't want to look up but I knew Ernest was rolling his eyes.

Shortly after our boss sent away the circulation ponies, a policeman stepped through the door, being let in by the office secretary and deskmare. The police pony gave a polite bow of the head with his helmet in hand, heading to our boss's office. The presence of the officer grabbed everyone's attention as some even stood from their desk to look over the cubicles to see what was happening. Our boss stood with a smile and greeted the police, though as the officer began to talk his smile began to disappear, they both glanced at us before their conversation was cut short by the policeman turning the other way, and walking out of the office. We watched as he left, he gave no glance back or acknowledged us staring, though whatever he had to deliver made neither him nor our boss so happy to show. Ernest kept leaning against my desk, Flemingway appearing in view as he had just got done with his break, gently nudging Ernest to ask what was going on.

Our boss walked out of his office, shaking his head as he moved to speak to all of us. "Zoe was found dead last night." He scoffed under his breath. Surprised muttering filled the room, I was also too surprised as were Ernest and Flemingway, we both watched on as it seemed our boss wasn't just done yet. "They assume it was an overdose of that shit I found her with last Friday, they found some vials of it." I ance down at my satchel. "But they aren't done investigating but all they know is that she's gone," Ernest spoke up once our boss got done talking. "What's going to happen now, sir?" He turned to look at Ernest, shaking his head and giving off a small shrug. "All I know is it'll give us yet another story to write so get back to work. Police might come around again to ask some questions, but it shouldn't be a big deal."

We all took his advice and went back to our work. I barely had interacted with Zoe but according to some of my coworkers, her doing drugs seemed completely out of character. But it made me wonder, the soft clinking of glass I heard when Mictail gave me the small sack felt like vials of something though I can't be sure for certain. Did he give me the same thing Zoe took? If so, why? He said it helped with stress, though he either was describing a recreational drug or a medication, though hearing the news about Zoe sure didn't help. I got back to proofreading, finishing up shortly after pondering a bit. Ernest and Flemingway were talking next to my desk, I guess they knew Zoe more than me, so they had some questions. I cleared my throat, quickly gaining Ernest's attention as I returned his paper. "It just needed some revision, but it should be good now." Ernest thanked me though he seemed less peppy than he was a few minutes ago, I don't know his relationship with Zoe, but her death seems to be hitting hard.

I had the unfortunate honor of typing up Zoe's article later that day. Ernest was pretty quiet the rest of the shift though I couldn't blame him. I inquired about what was wrong with Flemingway, he too didn't know but threw a guess that he and Zoe were lovers which seemed likely at this point. As I worked, I had small flashes of memories from the book I read, the "Krivbeknih" or whatever, small excerpts popping into my mind. I still didn't understand what they meant though I kept thinking about them like a song stuck in my head. The words got louder in my head, narrated by my voice, I felt disorientated, leaning back from my typewriter with a soft grunt following. The sun gleamed through the window and despite being further from the window the rays hit my face, striking my eyes as I squinted in a recoil, baring my teeth. I tried to stay still in my chair as my breathing quickened, I felt my heart pound, my hands twitching a bit as I felt as if I had itches all over my body. My pupils shrank as my whole body felt as if I was experiencing a withdrawal. I quickly made an excuse to my boss and made my way outside the office, straight into the bathroom right next to the one Zoe was caught in.

I tried washing my face, scrubbing hard at my coat but nothing worked. My hair was a mess and my eyes twitched as I felt my mind degrade, my beating heart grew louder to a point where it was all I could hear along with the repeating words from the book going over and over through my head. I paced around the bathroom, the sun still beaming through a small rectangular window at the corner of the bathroom wall, still hitting my body. I growled loudly like a rabid animal, moving into a stall as I pulled off my coat and shirt. My hoofs felt like they were burning so I kicked off my shoes, still didn't help. The voices reading the texts of the Krivbeknih got louder and louder. My satchel fell onto the ground along with my shirt and coat, then there it was. A soft ding and clink sounded out in the stall as my bag fell to the ground. I remembered the sack Mictail gave me, and even though I didn't know what it was I felt an urge to open it up.

I quickly grabbed my satchel, pulling it up to me as I opened it up, pouring everything out onto my coat on the bathroom floor, the book, some papers, and of course the small clinking sack. I yanked it off the ground out of pure desperation, pulling the thin string off the bottleneck of the sack causing it to unfold before my eyes revealing three vials of a glowing purple substance, and a few syringe parts. Mctail seemed to have thought of mostly everything. I didn't waste much time, however, hastily assembling the small syringe before pumping it full of the purple substance into the vial. I jammed it into my arm, causing me to nearly screech before I covered my mouth with my free hoof. The stinging pain burnt through my arm up to my shoulder though over time as I emptied it into my body the pain turned into a small bliss. The irritation I felt went away and my breathing and heart rate slowed back to normal. I sat in the bathroom for a good thirty minutes.

The bliss was a weird experience, I saw flashes of memory, not just of the book but of a lot of things from my mother's funeral to my time at the beach. Soon many things started to appear, memories of people, locations, and creatures all I hadn't seen before. I saw the same creature I've supposedly been seeing in my dreams and small hallucinations since the funeral, I don't know why. At first, it felt horrifying to see such a creature in my reflection, but I felt more and more familiar with the sight. It felt much darker in the bathroom since the injection, though the sun hadn't gone down a bit since I entered, I felt more comfortable, more like a whole new creature though the feeling felt like pure nostalgia, I don't know how to further explain it.

The bliss soon ended; I sat staring up at the ceiling. I slowly got up, feeling my body and looking at my arm, the syringe still sticking in with the needle bit in. A small bit of blood oozing from where the syringe was injected but I didn't feel any pain. I removed the syringe, cleaning it off with some toilet paper before redressing again, grabbing my things, and rewrapping the vials in the cloth and string, putting everything back into my bag. I promptly left the bathroom, thankfully no one else had the need to go at that hour but when I returned, I was met with some pretty predictable questions. First was my boss asking what took me so long, though I just gave a pretty plain excuse. "Just had to relieve myself, s-sir." I noticed my stutter, though to them I probably looked like I was high. He gave me a suspicious look though I never was able to get on his bad side just yet. He gave me a soft shove and told me to get back to work. Next was Flemingway asking why I looked stoned though I didn't give a response. Ernest was still quietly at his desk, seemingly not paying much attention to his work.

The shift ended on time, everyone packed their things and left the building while some stayed to talk or make plans for a night out. I didn't bother asking Ernest how he was, after all, I wouldn't have wanted someone to do the same to me when Mother died. My boss still gave me a few stares but by then I looked less high, more so just drowsy. My mind felt more clear, I felt as if I just had a nice warm shower. I was half expecting my boss to want to talk to me, but he surprisingly let me go with an irritated "Good night". I left the office, usually afterward Ernest would invite me to hang out by the harbor though he left without saying anything, though it probably was for the best he didn't. I went home at the same time I usually do, I felt, more so I had a gut feeling, that tomorrow was going to be much more peculiar than the last few days have been.

The Mare

I woke up feeling worse the next morning, I assume an after-effect of the drug. I wish I could ask Mictail about it but from what I could tell he is still nowhere to be seen. I made myself a small meal before giving myself a quick wash. But before I could gather all my things, I heard a knock on my door, and soon a note fell through the mail slot of my door, gently floating to the ground, following some footsteps walking away from outside my room, a silhouette of a pony walking past my curtained window. I wasn't expecting a mail delivery, not of a note kind anyhow. I reached to pick it up, pulling out a folded piece of paper that read:

Come meet me at the theatre on 9518 Maneland Rd. by exactly eight o'clock. I will be expecting you. Do make haste.

It wasn't signed by anyone; the handwriting was fancy and well-written. The note itself was properly stamped with my whole address on the front of the envelope. I knew the address they gave, having passed it a few times on my way to and from my mother's funeral. It would be a long trek from my usual part of town to there, but I think I could make it in time. I gave Flemingway a call rather than bug Ernest about something so miniscule, given the circumstances. I met Flemingway near the harbor after the call just before work, showing him the note. He seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. "Well, well seems you got the attention of a pretty mare! That handwriting was definitely by a gal." I didn't inquire on how he knew that let alone why, but being a lady chaser I came to respect his expertise.

"It doesn't have a name though; the location seems pretty far off too not to mention." Flemingway gave off a soft 'pfft' before rolling his eyes. "So, it'll be a surprise who cares, you should see it through before you miss the chance." After listening to some of his advice I figured it might be worth a shot, though I hadn't had much desire to date though something told me this is probably going to be more than just an attempt at romance. Work was just about the same, minus Ernest being at his desk. The boss told us he was in mourning before giving me a fat glare, I guess he still holds something against me. This day for me was mostly finalizing my bills and catching up on what I missed last week. I finished the article on Zoe, though I was hoping to get Ernest's opinion since he seemed to know her more but that didn't seem to be the case.

I finished up the ending line. "To those who may be concerned, the death of Zoe Jules is still under investigation and a further update will be given in the next edition if we receive one from the local authorities." I slid the retainer to the left, wrote my name, and printed a small box for my signature. I ripped the paper off the writer and gave the box a few scribbles, I never knew how to do a signature let alone in cursive. I stacked the papers up and handed them over to the circulation ponies before finishing on the last few bills. I sighed before handing in my hourly progress report to my boss, he gave me a slight nod, patted my shoulder, and sent me back to my desk. The office felt quieter without Ernest though I can't be upset, he has things to take care of.

Work ended early after everyone finished up with their stories and reports, and all the prints were handed off and sent for publishing. Thankfully it ended just around thirty-seven, giving me some time. Flemingway patted my back as he saw me head to the bus station, giving a slight nod and a grin. Even though I had no idea who I was meeting or why, my curiosity was too hard to resist, guessing from the note it didn't seem to have any hostile attention, the writing and the quality of the envelope felt too fancy to be from the very angry factory workers I had the displeasure of meeting last Saturday. I reached the bus station though as I walked in I had a feeling I was being watched, again. The same feeling I had before I found the book, then I saw him. The individual whom I have seen a few times was again standing far across the lobby of the station, too far for me to reach without sparing a few precious minutes, not to mention the number of ponies around made it difficult to move.

I kept my eye on them, however, though the moment I passed a tall alicorn the figure was gone, out of my sight completely. I stood still for a bit before being pushed along by the flow of people as the intercom of the station kept going off, blurting out times and numbers. I took the seven o'clock bus down the same route I took to get to the funeral. Normally I would sit in the back though by now it was nightfall, the only light gleaming through the windows were the streetlights the bus passed. I sat near the front this time, looking out the window just in case the bus missed the stop, which had happened before. My arm still felt sore from yesterday, specifically around where I injected myself. The pain was dull though it was hardly numbing, just enough to make me flinch every time I exerted any force on my arm.

Soon the bus reached a stop just a few miles from the address I was provided. I took the paper out anyhow just to be certain and trotted down the sidewalk. I seemingly entered a wealthier part of the city, colts, and mares out and about wearing suits and dresses, music echoing from inside some of the buildings, presumably from parties. I certainly did not look nor dress like I belonged, definitely receiving some stares or glances from passerbyers. The streets were much emptier and quieter without all the usual rabble near where I live. To everyone else, I probably look like a papercolt. I eventually made it to the theatre, though nothing was showing at the moment, nor could I see anyone around the entrance, let alone a mare.

Though despite the lack of crowd the lights of the theatre were shooting out into the sky, the bulbs forming a pretty pattern along the exterior blinked and flicked in unison, it was quite the sight. I took a seat on a nearby bench, just waiting. I checked my pocket watch to make sure I was on time; I was only a few minutes early thankfully enough. I looked down for a bit, though the moment I looked up a mare dressed in a red dress with long flowing dark hair was in front of me. Her coat was a nice warm blue with eyes that glimmered in the moonlight, her dress draped over her legs and hoofs, evidently a very modest mare. It was her though, the mare I saw on the road.

She looked down at me with a warm smile, giving a soft bow of the head before speaking. "Hello friend, Picardy is it? Louise Vuil."

"Yes."

"Ah very nice to meet you, I'm glad you took my invitation."

"Of course."

We both seemed to be looking into our eyes as though we were trying to figure each other out, or at least I was. The mare extended a hoof for me to take, I looked at it for a bit before taking it, standing up. It was her, the other name on the list.

"We have some things to discuss, I had the theatre rented for a family gathering soon though we should be able to get some privacy."

"Ok."

I walked with the mare into the theatre, it was somewhat empty except for a few theatre workers cleaning.

"I have read your articles for the Maneland post, very interesting developments. Though I cannot tell if it is your own opinion or if you're being instructed."

I didn't understand the question at first, it felt too complex, but I answered anyway: "Most of it is my opinion, but I follow a prompt." I kept looking forward as I spoke. She smiled and nodded, guiding me into the theatre itself. A propaganda film was playing on the screen, patriotic music playing in the background as an older colt was narrating the film, repeating messages praising the military and industries of Equestria. I paid not much attention to the screen; they usually had the same thing playing on the streets sometimes near recruitment stands. The mare took a seat at the back row of the theatre, it was relatively empty besides the two of us now. I sat next to her a few seats from the walkway dividing the columns of seats. Her eyes watched me as I took a seat, I felt her gaze staring at me, but I refused to look back at her.

"Shy are we?" She asked with a smirk.

"No I'm just-"

She cut me off with a soft chuckle, sighing softly. "No fret, my friend."

I nodded, looking at her before waiting for her to speak, given who she was, I was curious to hear what she had to say. Though I just had to ask: "How did you get my address?"

"Ah, a friend of mine, James Mctail gave me it when I inquired. He seems quite fond of you."

I froze up a bit upon hearing his name again, though it was curious why he had such an interest in my being even though I don't have much worth. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I know he was a friend of your mother, as was I thought ever since she was put into the retirement home we never got to speak." She spoke with such a gentle tone of voice, that our eyes eventually locked as we spoke. We talked for hours, though nothing sparked my complete interest, but I felt inclined to talk with her for ages, a feeling I never had in forever. She looked at me with a smile, placing a hoof onto mine. She told me stories of my mother, remarking on my writings though she then mentioned a very familiar word. "Krivbeknih." My eyes looked up, tilting my head. "Pardon?"

"I've been studying an ancient god, way before the time of the two sisters, Ug-Qualtoth. I was curious if you heard of it."

I continued to look at her. Despite that, I held the book the mentioned, and I shook my head. "No, I haven't." She just smiled at me again, and we went back to talking. We both went silent for a while, looking at each other before our bodies began inching towards one another. Our mouths eventually came into contact, our snouts pressing against each other then our lips collided, pressing against. We stayed like this for an hour or more, I lost track of time. Everything felt wonderful, it felt as if I had known her my entire life.

"I always wanted to meet you, Picardy. Maybe one day we can have dinner, I'm sure Mctail would love to join us."

I concurred silently, resting against her as we watched the film. My eyes slowly closed as we both fell asleep in each other's embrace. I had a dream again, it felt more pleasant compared to my old dreams. The sense of dread still lingered, however, as if I was being watched in my dream though I could not see what was watching. I could barely remember what had occurred, though it felt like an eternity. She never told me why she wanted to see me, but I believe her sudden embrace of me was the reason. We both slowly woke up; the film having stopped playing.

"Ah right, my guests should be arriving soon. I would love to meet with you again." She tapped a small note card into my bag. I gave her a nod and a soft bow, leaving the theatre promptly after. I took the bus home again, for some reason, I don’t know what, I began thinking of Mother. But I had to get up early the next day; so, as I wasn’t feeling hungry, I did without supper and went straight to bed.

The Murder

I had a busy time in the office throughout the week, it was the usual shift with more and more reports coming in, loud typing everywhere and our boss being upset as usual. I went to the pictures twice with Ernest and Flemmingway to get our minds off the death of Zoe. They don't always understand what’s happening on the screen and ask me to explain it. I spent most of my free time at home in the darkness, I had grown a strong disdain for the sun, and I did everything I could to block out its light from my window. To me, it felt as if the sun was causing my body to degrade, a feeling I cannot exactly explain. I glossed over the "Krivbeknih" for a bit in my free time, the conversation I had with Vuil renewed my interest and some lure I cannot describe. I kept noticing the word "Kremvh" littering each page as much as "Ug-Qualtoh".

I figured it was the blade I found in the book, though I still could not comprehend the meaning if there was any.
I noticed more and more words being completely erased, replaced with words like "hoof", "creature" and "pony" seemingly hastily scribbled into place. It made me wonder what was there before. The book still gave off that dreadful feeling, a dense heavyweight mostly from the knife in there, I'm too afraid to leave it out. It was Saturday today, I had agreed to have dinner with Vuil, and we both had decided by nightfall. We ate at a local establishment, and though she preferred the fancier restaurants near where she lived, she did not mind one bit, thankfully.

I told Vuil of the brawl I had, and it made her laugh. She was wearing a similar dress from when we first met, it sparkled ever so slightly in the lighting of the dining hall. When she laughed, I wanted to relive the first moments again. A moment later she asked me if I loved her. I said that sort of question had no meaning, really; but I supposed I didn’t. She looked sad for a bit, but when we were receiving our lunch dinner, she brightened up suddenly and started laughing. When she laughs, I always want to kiss her. We talked some more as we ate, the ambiance made the perfect moment. We later took the bus and went to a beach I know, not the same one I and my friends went to, however. It’s just a strip of sand between two rocky spurs, with a line of rushes at the back, along the tide line. At eight o’clock the sun was still setting somewhat, but the water was pleasantly tepid, and small, languid ripples were creeping up the sand.

The beach was emptier than usual, though still had some ponies enjoying the warm waters while they still could. We went and rented a small raft to use in the water, soon taking it out to the shore. While I was helping Vuil climb onto a raft, I let my hoof stray over her chest. Then she lay flat on the raft, while I trod water. After a moment she turned and looked at me. Her hair was over her eyes and she let out a soft giggle, soon turning into laughter. I clambered up on to the raft, beside her. The air was pleasantly warm, and, half jokingly, I let my head sink back upon her lap. She didn’t seem to mind, so I let it stay there without much thought. I had the sky full in my eyes, almost all gold with the sun slowly setting, and I could feel Vuil's stomach rising and falling gently under my head. We must have stayed a good half-hour on the raft, both of us half asleep. When the air began to become cold, she dived off and I followed. I caught up with her, put my hoof around her torso, and we swam side by side. She was still laughing.

It was nice to see the sun fall below the horizon, leaving a soothing feeling resonating in my mind. We soon exited the waters, drying off behind one of the sheds just out of sight of everyone else. Though it felt like an eternity, the darkness concealed us too. My mind went blank for a moment as our lips fell onto each other, our bodies pressed hard. We were silent, but the softness of her mane and the warmth of our bodies felt like a loud symphony ringing out throughout my body. The pleasure felt surreal, the motions and the soft noises omitted from our bodies felt as if I was just imagining it all, but I wasn't. But I have heard of the experience, of making love, though all I feel is the pleasure, the feeling of love absent, though I would not know where to begin trying to figure out how that feels, but I enjoyed whatever I felt either way. It was different, and I liked it.

What should have been a few minutes turned into hours. We nearly fell asleep in each other's embrace, though the sounds of footsteps incited us to make our leave. We giggled and kissed on our way to the bus station, and from there well, made me like riding the bus a lot more than I used to. We slept the whole ride back into the city, our heads resting against one another. Though in my sleep I felt the bus rush to a stop, the loud clambering of street cars and muttering of those waiting at the next bus stop became apparent. The driver tapped my shoulder, quickly waking me up as he spoke my name and asked me if this was my stop.

"Err, Monsieur Mysil? This is your stop yes?"

My eyes opened as I stretched with a soft yawn, I noticed to my right that Vuil was no longer sitting with me, but a note was left in her place. I blinked and shook my head a bit to regain my bearings, glancing up at the driver, though I said nothing.

"Ah yes, the madame left one bus stop before, was careful not to wake up monsieur, what a nice mare."

I nodded my thanks and placed the letter into my bag before leaving the bus, all without saying much. I didn't have much to say anymore, to begin with. The night had nearly fully settled, there was a loud clanging of streetcars. They were coming from the stadium in the city's suburb where there had been a sports game of some kind. Even the back platforms were crowded and ponies were standing on the steps. Then another streetcar brought back the teams. I knew they were the players by the little suitcase each man carried. They were bawling out their team song, “Keep the wings flapping, boys!” One of them looked up at me and shouted, “We nailed them!” I waved my hoof and called back, “Good work!” From now on there was a steady stream of private cars as the celebrations settled, the usual lot.

As the clock struck ten o'clock, the street grew more crowded. Ponies were returning from their jobs, I noticed foals were whimpering and trailing wearily after their parents. After some minutes the local picture houses ejected their audiences and moviegoers as the doors shut and the employees left. I noticed that the young fellows coming from them were taking longer strides and gesturing more vigorously than at ordinary times. Those who had been to the picture houses in the middle of the town came a little later, and looked more sedate, though a few were still laughing. On the whole, however, they seemed exhausted. Some of them remained loitering in the street under my window. A group of girls came by, walking arm in arm. The young men under my window swerved to brush against them and shouted humorous remarks, which made the girls turn their heads and giggle. I recognized them as girls from my part of the town, and two or three of them, whom I knew, looked up and waved to me. I gave a small wave back, before shutting the curtains.

The city life was admirable, the scenery was decent though the noise felt too much. I hadn't had much easy rest to begin with, not for a lack of trying. The nightmares have gotten worse, the voices have gotten louder, and all I can think about is that book, the blade, and the death of my colleague. I sat at my desk, staring down at the book and the vials containing the glowing liquid, something I stabbed myself in the bathroom at work. Something about it all seemed odd, my mind felt blank as I tried processing it all though a strong sense of curiosity overtook my mind as I removed my notes from my topmost drawer, reading up the information regarding the death of Zoe. The jotted-down words that stood out to me most came from a few notes I had taken from the official police report, that she was found with an empty syringe and a vial along with it that contained a soft purple residue within the glass. I had to look further, I had to understand, I am not sure if it is the book or morbid curiosity, but something is pulling me towards the case.

The next morning I did not spare a second to get my things together. I took everything surrounding Zoe's death, the book, the empty vials, and my notes while also keeping the blade within the book as well. It was early in the morning, the sun was still rising over the skyrise. Some ponies were already out taking a walk or heading to work though the streets were much more empty than how they usually are at this hour. I stopped to grab the daily newspaper, reading through it to find my article regarding Zoe's disappearance. Much of the information was relatively the same minus some adjustments made by the editors before publishing. I made my way to the public phone, dialing my office number though the phone rang for longer than usual before shutting off, it was then I heard a familiar voice.

"It's Sunday, Mysil, the office is closed."

Ernest stood on the opposite side of the phone booth, giving me a gentle wave. I froze for a moment, glancing down to the phone as I placed it back onto the ringer, stepping out of the box and giving a small head bow.

"You're going somewhere you're not supposed to go, aren't you?"

"How do you know?"

"I've known you for a while, I can see it in your eyes, they're not as soulless this morning."

I let out a deep sigh. "I am going to the Everfree, to find where Zoe died, just to understand more."

Ernest's eyes widened, though he no doubt had a much more fascination in the death of his lover than I ever would.

"Picardy, the Everfree is closed off, more now than before since her death. We aren't getting in." It is true, for a while the Everfree forest has always been considered to be a pony's final resting place, though I did not care, I did not even feel scared. I shook my head.

"No. I am going regardless."

"Then I am coming with."

I did not anticipate his offer, though I would be a fool not to accept his help and so I did. We did not spare much time going over the details, instead quickly making our way down to the bus station, taking the 7 o'clock bus out of the city and to the suburbs. We proceeded on hoof till we reached the edge of the suburbs. Looking back the city felt so small in the distance, the skyrise still visible in the warm blue sky as the sun began to settle in the sky. Our motives were not deterred by the sights, however, finally reaching the edge of the everfree that met with the Manehatten suburbs. The forest was vast, stretching from the east coast down to Applusia. The edge of the forest was fenced off, caution signs dotting the chainlinked fence and barbed wire riding the top though we saw no authorities along the rim. We found a shaded spot near the fence, a large tree casting a dark cool shadow over the space with enough thick brush to conceal ourselves in as we made our way to the fence line.

Ernest acted as a lookout as I removed my coat, placing it on the barbed wire.

"Mysil, I hear someone coming, hurry!" He exclaimed in a panicked whisper. I did not deter my speed though as I quickly hauled myself over the flattened part of the fenceline, soon helping Ernest over as well. I quickly snatched back my jacket through the barbs causing some tears in the fabric. We quickly took cover behind a set of trees as we saw a pony officer coming into view, making a short inspection of the area we just were before shrugging it off and going back onto his patrol. Ernest sighed with relief, gently gripping my side as I went through my notes, pulling out a hoof-drawn map I had made using the information from the police report. We quickly got to our hoofs and made our way down the forest line, though moving inwards a bit to avoid being seen. The atmosphere was eerie, though I cared nothing for it, the beasts were the least of my concerns. Ernest shivered softly, though I am not certain if it was from the cold air sweeping through the forest or his fear of what might be living in the brush.

"How much further...?"

"Just a few more miles, they said she wasn't found too far off from the edge."

We found a tree not too far off from where we were, a large blood stain decorating the dull bark of the tree. A small plastic bag and pieces of cloth resting around. We were both shocked at the sight, they mentioned nothing of blood on the report. We said nothing, keeping quiet as we inspected the scene. I noticed soft blood splatters dotting the small area near the stain on the tree, small pieces of glass with the shredded cloth, obviously a fight had taken place. Ernest lifted a glass vial that was half buried in the dirt, empty. I froze and stared at it, the same type of vial that Mctail had given to me.

"This... I.. What happened here??" He kept his voice down despite his utter confusion if not anger. I simply shrugged, looking over what I could find, there was one aspect missing, the body. Ernest carefully placed the vial down, his body shivering even more as his eyes teared up, memories surging back from his time with Zoe. She wasn't the ideal mare to be around but she was certainly special to Ernest, having known each other long before he had met me. His sorrow became more apparent as she softly knelt near the place where she had died and softly wept into his hoofs. I did not join in, standing off to the side as I watched. As I watched him grieve, however, I noticed something in the ground, multiple hoof prints leading deeper into the forest, I followed them up to a certain point, noticing a dim fire light in the distance.

"Ernest, I think I see something." He softly raised himself from his hoofs, hesitantly getting up and walking over to me where he was fast to notice the hoof prints, then soon the fire in the distance.

"What is that...? Dragon fire?"

"Answers," I said bluntly, walking along the path formed by the hoofprints. The firelight seemed far off still.

"Picardy- Wait- Shouldn't we report this?? What if it's the people who killed Zoe?"

I sighed and glanced back. "That is exactly what I want to know, come on." Ernest became more fearful but chose to follow regardless as he stood by close. The further we went in the darker it became, our path was only ever so slightly lit up by the distant fire. We noticed rustling in the brush, though we were quick to notice the creatures were running in the opposite direction of the fire, and paid no attention to either of us. I felt a dull feeling settle in my chest, a familiar wave of dread. I took a short glance at my bag, we continued onward. The darkness became more apparent as we got closer, the air becoming thicker with a soft haze settling over the forest from the fire. Ernest coughed, I did not, he shivered, I did not. At times I realized how different we are from each other, as little as it matters, though we are the same species and we had supposedly grown up in the same city, for a while I began to have my doubts about everything since mothers death.

We stumbled upon a large clearing in the first, torches and candles, hundreds of them, leaning the circular clearing on the edge of the brush. Though there was no one in sight, we noticed a large image painted on the ground with what seemed to be blood and a mangled corpse within a sack and rope tied around the limbs resting in the middle. I noticed carvings in the trees resembling imagery from the book. The emblem decorating the thick dirt surface resembled the Celestian sun in the middle with a series of lines and imagery surrounding it, the part that stood out the most was an emblem resembling the jaggedness of the blade pointing straight to the sun, its handle facing me. Ernest quickly approached the corpse as I was taken in by the scenery, the amount of candlelight and torchlight alone made it feel like a warm sunny day, though without the feeling the sun usually gives me.

Ernest quickly undid a rope near what seemed to be the head, slowly opening the bag. He immediately dropped to the ground, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, his face turned green sickly as tears filled his eyes. I approached from behind to see what it was. It was her, it was Zoe, or at least what was left of her. Ernest nearly threw up on the spot, tears streaming down his face as he backed away. The stench of rotting flesh filled the clearing as he opened the bag, though I took no bother from it, Ernest quickly kicked back, absolutely horrified and stunned by what he had seen. I did what I could to comfort him, though my apparent lack of compassion did not help.

"Shes.. Shes... S-Shes.. Oh, my Celestia... Oh my..." Hoofsteps were heard behind us, I was quick to turn around as I placed my hand on my bag just in reach for the book, and the blade within it. A cloaked figure stood at the entrance of the clearing, staring at us both as Ernest quickly got to his hoof behind me. We stared at each other for a minute, before the figure lowered his hood, revealing none other than him. James Mctail.

"Yes, she's dead, a shame for such a devoted disciple." He said to Ernest who quivered behind me, though he quickly pushed his way forward as his fear and sorrow quickly boiled into pure anger.

"You! YOU killed her! You bastard! I will send you to tartarus!" I tried to hold him back, though his strength overcame mine as he charged at Mctail, but with a flash of light from his horn an aura quickly surrounded Ernest, sending him to the ground and knocking him unconscious. He then looked at me as I quickly rushed to get the book out, pulling out the blade from the book and pointing it at him.

"Ah Picardy, a meeting finally at long last. I take it you've met Vuil, a lovely gal isn't she?" He walked, unphased by my stance with the blade, approaching the corpse as he knelt, covering the seal.

"And I see you have the Krivbeknih, and the Kremvh, good. We will need it." I followed him with each step he took, the blade just primed at his chest as if I were to plunge it into him at any moment. He stopped, noticing my lack of response, giving a glare in return to my defensive posture.

"I apologize for your friend, though to tell the truth, she was a threat to the cause, and could not remain."

"A threat? Cause? What are you talking about?" Mctail gave a soft chuckle, but a disappointed stare.

"Surely you've read the Krivbeknih, I did not leave it for you only to be overlooked. She posed a threat to the prophecy, and our lord demanded her removal for the harbinger of Harmony to arrive."

"And here you are."