Ballpen

From behind the stage curtain came the sinister laughter of a unicorn.

“Did you think you could stop me, stupid foal? The castle will be mine, and I will build the biggest casino in all of Equestria in its place! And you and your obnoxious sister will die of hunger in the dungeon! And when your gnawed by rats bones are found, I will make a sad face and say: "Oh, what a pity that they did not listen to me and went to wander around the castle"! And now...”

“AAAUUUUURGH!!!”

“What?! Who's there... AAAAAH!!! NO!!! HELP!!!”

In time with the ominous howl of the ghost, a friendly stomping of foals was heard, replacing applause in Equestria. And enthusiastic cries.

“Let’s start now,” Philip rose from the stool.

As if he had overheard, Grand Drape burst into the room.

“Come on, you apes! You wanta rest forever?”

I grimaced. My partner seemed not to notice the insult, pulled back the curtain and looked out onto the stage.

“Another minute and a half, chief. Scene six.”

The stage manager kicked the set.

“I know you, lazy slowpokes! If I don't yell at you, you'll drag out the intermission for at least an hour!”

“We’re ready,” I said through my teeth.

“Thank you, Light Shadow!” came from the stage. “And you, mister, have a good time in the dungeon yourself! Here you will have enough time to think of what to say to the guards!”

The curtain rustled. The actors, led by McSnaffle, began to leave the stage. Philip and I, straining ourselves, grabbed the half-ruined ladder – although plywood, but still heavy – and dragged it into our sidestage.

“He makes me so hateful,” I muttered quietly, so that Grand, who was rushing around the stage and urging the actors on, wouldn’t hear.

“Pfft! This is a theater, dude, everything is a little crazy here. Keep it simple!”

“Well, well. He doesn't bully Mark Paint and Rob like that. Seriously, his problem is that we're human.”

“Oh, you're kidding, dude. He's just a fucking idiot, that's all.”

We dragged the set over, lifted and grabbed the handles of another one – a table with cardboard dishes – and quickly dragged it onto the stage.

“And yet,” I whispered even more quietly, “if he calls me a monkey one more time, I won’t be able to stand it and I’ll punch him thick ear.”

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn't have done that. If we going nuts, we'll be kicked back to camp in no time!”

“I know, I know,” I interrupted myself when Grand leaned closer and began shouting explanations about how and where to set up the table. It wasn’t that we didn’t already know this – the play had been rehearsed and performed more than once – but the earth pony apparently sincerely believed that in three hours we would be able to completely forget the mise-en-scène.

Finally, the fuss ended. The curtains drew, and we plopped down on the benches, catching our breath.

“Friendship is motherfucking magic. God, how do you put up with this bastard?”

“Hey, bro, I'm just not worrying about it. Look, Winnie and Agate are normal guys, I mean, normal ponies. And they're all good with friendship magic and all that stuff. Don't worry so much.”

“Yes, I know. During this time, I myself have made the acquaintance of a couple of wonderful locals... By the way, Phil!”

“Ouch?”

“If I ask for a day off tomorrow again, will you work alone? Then we'll settle the score.”

“Hey, no problem, man, but what does our friend have to say about that? He already yelled at you for asking for time off three times in a row.”

I shrugged.

“Okay, it does not hurt to ask.”

In fact, Grand Drape had a tangible chance of being hurt - with his manner of speaking. If he still tried to restrain himself with the actors, and Philip was slightly protected with his status as an assistant scriptwriter, then I got it three times as much. For inexperience, for my human origin, and for the other three stagehands at the same time.

Hmm. It was spoken of the devil.

“Cough, cough. Grand, can I ask you a question?”

“What?” the gray earth pony spun around as if stung. “What's the matter, Evgeniy? Do you want to slip away from work again?”

“Uh... Well, yes, Grand. I would like to leave tomorrow after the first performance. Philip is ready to replace me...”

“Like hey, lazy monkey! Tomorrow is a full house, we have hard work ahead of us! I want your flat face here half an hour before the start of the day and until the end of the performances, understand? I'm not going to make the audience admire the curtain because the workers have run off to celebrate! For the money you're paid for this, the troupe has a right to expect you to do something useful!”

Calm down, Zhenyok. Calm down. Talking to assholes is your professional business. We've made deals with worse.

“I’m not asking to be paid for this…”

“You'd have the nerve! No time off!”

He turned around and with a sharp clatter rushed off to the dressing rooms, where the prima donna Stage Shine and the comedian Lazzi were once again locked still in a verbal altercation .

Philip patted me on the shoulder.

“Ah, bro, there's one last show left for today, and then we can forget about this mug for another day. By the way, where do you really go all the time?”

“Ah,” I waved it off, “you could say it’s a small side income.”

“Hee-hee. You work part-time as a pony brusher, or something?”

“Uh... not exactly. Okay, I'll go help Gobo with the spotlights before he complains about us to the gray asshole,” I quickly changed the subject.

I don't even know why I chose to remain silent. Either from a superstitious fear of bring bad luck, or from an earthly habit of not sharing a good idea. Of course, it is unlikely that Philip would have wanted and been able to repeat our work - I was very lucky that there were ponies willing to take on the research, and there was Alyatara willing to help bring them together. But the reflex still worked.

“Okay, it’s less stressful for me,” Philip shrugged. “By the way, buddy, how about a little relaxation after work? Let’s hit the pub, grab a pint…”

“No, sorry. Today and tomorrow I really don't have time.”

“Too bad. Well then, sometime during the week?”

“Perhaps, yes.”

Ferrier Hill was crowded today, despite the late hour. Music was coming from every other alley, ponies in grinning, fanged, deathly pale, coal-black masks wandered the streets. Many, especially the foals, dressed up in full masquerade costumes, from bunnies and lions to pirates, knights and astronauts. Between the houses stretched shining garlands with lanterns in the shape of tiny skulls. Every now and then my gaze fell on brightly painted market stalls and attractions in the squares.

No, I remembered Alyatara's words about the holiday. And today's theater repertoire was clearly chosen with it in mind. But I didn't expect the carnival to take on such a scope.

Against this background, even my human appearance was not noticeable. The crowd was in no hurry, as usual, to part in front of the otherworldly monster. A couple of times I had to, it's scary to say, push my way through the crush!

Finally, a familiar entrance loomed ahead, and behind it, the now familiar landing.

Alyatara opened the door without asking who was behind her. The unicorn's mane was wrapped in a terry towel, and she was holding a bag of sweets with her hoof.

“Oh! Is that you?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” actually, come to think of it, the unicorn could have actually invited her friends...

She shook her head.

“No one, except the neighbors' kids. It's time to start collecting candy from apartment to apartment.”

“Candies?”

“Yes, it's an ancient custom. Then they are supposed to be ceremoniously sacrificed to Nightmare Moon, so that she won't hurt anyone that night... Come in, come in!”

I threw off my jacket and took off my shoes. I went to wash my hands. Meanwhile, the unicorn put the kettle on the stove and telekinetically dropped the candies on the table.

“We were waiting for you in the workshop.”

“Yes, I'm sorry, please. I couldn't get away this time.”

“A rush of spectators, huh?” the pony asked understandingly. “And Bronze and Remy were in a hurry to get home too. But we left a note on the door! Honestly!”

I squeezed past her and plopped down on a chair by the window, grabbing some toast and butter from the fridge on the way.

“Well, you did the right thing. We wouldn't have managed to do much anyway so late.”

“By the way,” Alyatara smiled, “the writings are in perfect order, and the refills still work. Even the ones we left on the table. Remi said she wants to wait a couple more days to be sure, but I have no doubt that we succeeded!”

Just as I was biting into my sandwich, the doorbell rang again.

“Well,” the pony laughed. She picked up the bag.

"Trick or treat, miss!" several foals' voices cried out in unison. A small dragon hung flapping its wings from the ceiling of the staircase (its wings, unlike its head and tongues of fire, were real), a wolf mask grinned with its red mouth, another foal pulled on scaly armor and a helmet with a red plume...

Alyatara, smiling, handed the children a bag of sweets.

“Thank you!” shouted the pegasus dressed as a dragon. “Oh! Are you dressing up for the holiday too?”

I didn't even really know what to say.

“Cool suit, sir or mare! You look like a real monster! It's magical, right?”

“Can you growl?” the filly dressed as a wolf asked timidly.

Alyatara and I looked at each other. I shrugged. I raised my hands and let out the most terrible roar I could muster.

It seemed that now the children realized that they were not dealing with a costume. The company, squealing, rushed down the stairs. However, it seemed to me that the squeal was more enthusiastic than frightened.

"There are still a few candies left in the buffet," Alyatara said, barely holding back her laughter. "We can have some tea with them, or we can join the festivities and take them to the nearest statue. One was erected today in the neighboring park!"

“The statue?”

“Yes, the statue of Nightmare Moon. Ouch!” She blushed. “You don't know, do you? It's an old custom. Collected sweets are supposed to be left in front of her statue, so that she won't hurt any of the ponies! They say that in Ponyville and Canterlot, Luna herself sometimes takes on a scary appearance and appears before the townsponies, but here in Manehattan they make do with the statues.”

I shook my head.

“I've had enough of scaring the kids. Alyatara...”

“Ouch?” the pony perked up her ears.

“This holiday, Nightmare Night – was it ever called Halloween? Or All Saints' Day?

The unicorn became thoughtful. Absentmindedly, she poured tea into the cups.

“Halloween... Halloween... No, I haven't heard of it. Although... I saw an article that said that humans on Earth have holidays similar to ours. Is this one of them?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. Only here we usually make lanterns out of pumpkins.”

“From a pumpkin? What do you mean?”

I threw the soft, Turkish delight-like taffy into my mouth and started working my jaws.

“Well, look. You take a pumpkin, cut off the top, scrape out the middle. Here and here,” I drew a circle in the puddle of tea with my finger, “you cut out eyes and teeth. Then you put a candle inside, light it...”

“Got it. It's like our nightmare lanterns, right?”

“Almost the same. Only they are usually not hung, but placed on the windowsill.”

Alyatara's eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Listen! The greengrocer's shop down the block is open late. I'm sure they have pumpkins!”

I laughed.

“Are you suggesting we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

I chuckled.

“Let's go! Then we'll grab some candy.”

The noisy crowd picked us up and pulled us into the stream almost immediately. We were almost torn apart in different directions, and when Alyatara and I got out of the crowd, we found ourselves very far from the intended greengrocer's shop, but right next to the much-talked-about statue. Depicting a unicorn with ominously outstretched wings (an alicorn, I corrected myself!). Every now and then another group of children would trot up to the statue and leave another handful of candies on the lawn.

"Where will they go after the party?" I asked. I meant the candies, not the foals.

"The city workers will collect it and give it to orphanages," Alyatara said, panting. "So! We were going to the store? If so, it's in the wrong direction!"

Luckily for us, some kind of movement spontaneously organized in the park opposite – either throwing balls for accuracy, or catching apples from a barrel. The ponies rushed there, and the passage cleared up a bit. Having learned from bitter experience, we tried to hold on to each other (even if in our case it was difficult for anatomical reasons – Alyatara could only grab my shirt with her teeth, and I could only grab her mane). And in the end both disheveled and neighing like horses (in one case it was almost not a metaphor!), we tumbled into the shop, managing not only not to lose each other, but also not to trample each other's feet. An epic victory, in my opinion.

The old greengrocer reacted to our appearance with Olympian calm. Perhaps on a night like this, he wouldn't even be surprised by the appearance of an alien in the shop. With a pony on his arm. Who, in a voice choked with laughter, would demand that he immediately sell them a pumpkin... Wait, oh shit... Anyway, they sold us a pumpkin without asking what the Discord we needed it at one in the morning.

“Why a pumpkin?” Alyatara asked, when we were already climbing the stairs with the pumpkin in our arms.

“Oh, that's an old legend.”

“Will you tell me? Please!”

“No problem. Just let's sort out the pumpkin.”

The fuss with the pumpkin took longer than expected. The vegetable was quite large, and even with two of us, pushing each other by the arm, we scraped out the pulp and carved out the scary face for about twenty minutes. Then the problem with the lack of candles arose. Alyatara rummaged through her belongings and found candles and matches in the farthest corner. It immediately turned out that the top of the candle rested against the top of the pumpkin. As a result, the candle had to be cut in half and secured with wax to an iron bowl for stability.

“Attention!” I struck a match. Alyatara had turned off the electricity in advance.

The room was lit up with a red glow. The candlelight reflected off the inner walls, taking on a scarlet hue, and it seemed that the toothy face was really looking at us with orange-red eyes. And grinning with a fiery mouth.

Alyatara sniffed.

“Mmm... Listen, I know exactly what we'll do with this pumpkin after the holiday!”

“What?”

“Pumpkin pie,” the unicorn licked her lips.

I laughed, now feeling the sweet, delicious smell of baked pulp floating around the apartment.

“So what's the story?” We plopped down on the sofa.

“Well, begin. Once upon a time there lived a farmer named Jack. He was a notorious sly man, a rogue, and a swindler...”

“... And so Jack went down to the gates of hell and began to knock on them. But as soon as he saw Jack on the threshold, the devil shouted: "Get away! It's enough that you fooled me once, I don't want to see you here!"

"But where can I go?" asked Jack. "It's so dark here that even with my head on my shoulders I would likely to lose my way! Give me at least a little light so I can find my way back to earth!"

Then the devil snatched a piece from the coals under one of the cauldrons where the sinners were roasting and threw it into the pumpkin. Then he handed it to Jack, saying, "Take that and get out of here!"

Jack thanked him politely, placed the pumpkin on his shoulders in place of his severed head, and wandered back. Since then, banished from both heaven and hell, he has wandered the night roads and searched for his head.”

Alyatara looked at the pumpkin smiling at us from the windowsill.

“The devil, as I understand it, is an evil spirit like Discord? Well, until he was reformed?”

I shrugged.

“Well, something like that.”

“It’s still not very clear what the pumpkin has to do with it,” she said. “However… I remember my grandmother’s stories about how she and her peers in the village would carve nightmare lanterns out of turnips. It was almost the same thing, only smaller in size.”

“In the village?”

“Well, yeah. It's a couple of days away, closer to Canterlot. Dad then moved from there to the suburbs of Manehattan, they still live there.”

“You never talked about your family.”

“And you about yours too... Oh. Sorry,” with a guilty expression on her face, Alyatara placed her hoof on my palm.

“It’s okay,” I said, staring at the wall. “It’s okay. I still have to get used to this idea.”

We were silent. The candle on the windowsill crackled quietly.

"And these pumpkins, do you light them to ward off this devil? Instead of Nightmare Moon?" the unicorn asked, her tone slightly overly curious.

However, I was grateful to her for this. I myself needed a distraction.

“Well, something like that. One of the peoples of the Earth had a holiday - Samhain - in honor of the autumn equinox. They believed that on this day the dead return to earth to look at their loved ones. And so that no evil spirit would slip after them, they lit these lanterns to scare it away. Although I may have something mixed up, I've never been interested in the details... Listen!”

“Ouch?”

“Tell me some of your scary stories. I want to compare how similar they are to the ones on Earth.”

Alyatara smiled.

“How opportune!”

She jumped off the couch, clattered her hooves to the closet, pulled out a thin paperback book with telekinesis, shook it, lighting the firefly lamp.

“I bought it at a thrift store a couple of days ago. Just in time for Nightmare Night.”

I looked curiously at the picture on the cover - an earth pony turns around in fear, and from the darkness behind his shoulders emerges a dark shadow with glowing eyes. The inscription on the cover read: "Bitter Birch. Crippled Hoof and Other Stories."

“Sit closer, so we can both read!” Alyatara climbed back, lay down diagonally on the sofa, resting her shoulder on my thigh. She leaned the book on my knee.

The pages rustled.

" I should have been wary already when I saw the suspiciously low price in the ad. But that day I was only happy. The house, I reasoned, was probably dilapidated and had a leaky roof, which is why the owners were renting out the room for such a ridiculous handful of bits...

…And then I started running faster than I had ever run in my life. To run away from this village, from this damned house. I ran until a fire burned in my chest, until my legs began to give way – and then I ran after that. I ran until, out of breath, I burst into the station and hastily bought a train ticket to the farthest part of Equestria.

More than half a year has passed since then. I did not even dare to send for my modest belongings. I found new housing and work in Las Pegasus, and this story would have remained a nightmare for me…

If it weren’t for one thought that haunts me day and night.

The old pony said that Grogar's creature would come for me if I tried to leave the village. And he said that it would return to sleep after it had fed again.

He didn't say that once it got the sacrifice, Crippled Hoof would let me go.

Where did my former unsociability go? I became a regular at parties and the life of the party. I spend days and nights on busy streets, and every now and then I sit in cafes and ask to stay overnight with friends. Just so as not to be alone for a minute.

And when I am forced to, I lock all the doors, close the shutters on the windows and draw the strongest curtains.

And then I can’t fall asleep until the morning, listening to the night noises.

Every minute I expect to hear a familiar grinding sound outside the window.

And, to see when I pull back the curtain the skinless face of Crippled Hoof pressed against the glass.

The book closed with a rustle, Alyatara finished reading. She shuddered.

“Brrr,” she muttered.

“It’s a creepy story,” I admitted quite sincerely. “Although I’ve read something similar here. I’ve watched movies more often, of course.”

“Show this in a movie theater? But what's the point? Being scared in a big crowd... somehow not very scary.” the pony asked, puzzled.

I laughed.

“We have small cinemas. The size of your radio. You can put one of these in your home and be scared enough.”

“Then it’s clear,” nodded Alyatara. She thought about something.

"That's what I don't understand about these horror stories," she said. "If the main character knew that the old pony was feeding the guests to Grogar's monster, why didn't he go to the guards? Even if the guards couldn't handle the monster themselves, they could have called Princess Celestia, and how could any monster compete with her?"

I shrugged.

“Conventions of the genre, probably,” and I froze. From the thought that came to my mind.

“Evgeniy?”

I looked at the unicorn.

It suddenly dawned on me.

I am now in the most natural magical land, and a real, live, magical horse lies right next to me.

Here they control the dawn, the weather and the sunset with sorcery. And why not here…

“Wait a minute... Are you saying that this story can be real? Such creatures can actually exist here?”

Alyatara looked up at me.

“Well... Grogar definitely existed. Only a long time ago, more than a thousand years ago. And he really did create many monsters. Could anyone have survived to our time...” she snorted. “Certainly not in Manehattan, and the princess would definitely have restrained any monster that came here!

“It sounds reassuring,” I forced a smile. In reality, it wasn’t so…

The candle hissed, the fire in the pumpkin flickered and went out.

The wind howled outside the window.

Something scratched persistently at the kitchen window.

“Oh,” Alyatara said, stunned.

I swallowed.

Suddenly discovering that she and I pressed very closely together.

So close that I can feel her heart beating rapidly.

“It’s… it’s the wind, right?” the pony muttered. “Just the wind?”

The grinding sound was repeated.

“Just the wind,” I said, trying my best not to chatter my teeth.

We looked at each other.

“I guess… I guess I should go check,” the pony said uncertainly.

I nodded and stood up.

“Eh... And you sure...”

“Everything’s fine,” I answered with false confidence in my voice. “I’ll go and… close the window tighter.”

Involuntarily looking for that very mop that almost got me on the first day of our acquaintance. And suppressing the desire to arm myself with it.

Judging by the look in Aliatara's eyes, she was thinking the same thing.

Step into the hallway. Step into the kitchen. If anything, there's a good, sharp knife in the desk drawer...

The grinding noise again. Stronger and louder.

Is it just me? Or is there something crooked, shapeless and dark looming behind the glass?

Taking a deep breath, I resolutely opened the doors.

And I almost burst out laughing.

Looking at a branch broken by the wind with fallen leaves, resting against the glass.

“Evgeniy?

“I'm here! And I caught him!”

“Who?”

“A monster!”

The hooves clattered.

Alyatara stared at the branch in my hands.

A second later we burst out laughing. Absolutely in sync.

And we laughed until we slid down to the floor, hugging.

"Crippled Hoof," Alyatara sobbed. "Grogar's monster! Nightmare Night!"

“Monsters and horrors!” I picked up. “Scary stories!”

The unicorn wiped her eyes with her hoof.

“Celestia, I'm going to have nightmares now! I hope Princess Luna isn't too busy tonight!”

“If you scream in your sleep, I’ll wake you up,” I promised.

“Okay then,” the unicorn smiled.

She got up and disappeared into the room. She reappeared, taking a candle that had burned down to a stub out of the pumpkin as she went.

“It seems the wax hasn’t spread much,” she said, looking inside.

“Let’s leave it in the fridge as is, and cut off the pulp tomorrow,” I suggested.

“Let's.”

Alyatara glanced at the watch.

“It's four o'clock! Listen, do as you wish, but I really need to sleep.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I pulled off my pants and shirt, spreading out the bedding on my couch.

“Evgeniy?”

“Yes?”

“Nightmare Night was great, wasn't it?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night.”