"Having trouble getting into that locked room in your home? Are the walls bleeding green blood? Are you hearing voices walking down the hallways at night? Do you fear for your own safety when you walk by that broken down hotel in Town Square? Have you ever wondered where we go after our demise? If the answer to any of the above questions is 'yes' then you have made a wise choice in casual reading selection.”

Such a mystery, and something vastly misunderstood. Something greater than the magic of our world, working on a higher level than one could possibly imagine. Something that is horrifying, yet incredible and beautiful. Something that doesn’t tend to cross a pony’s mind very often. Not that it would, I mean, how many times do you come across a ghost on a day-to-day basis? I’m guessing not very often.

Some said that they don’t even exist. Typical, considering most ponies can’t look beyond the fields they plow or the shops they run. Ghosts are not a subject of common thought. Ponies who live normal lives don’t have time to spend what little brainpower they have toiling away on such a menial topic. I don’t blame them; it’s such an absurd idea. I certainly never in my younger days conceived that they were going to play any sort of role in my life. Well, let’s just say that your first notion is not always the most accurate.

On the outskirts of modern day Equestria, nine hundred and thirty one years after the banishment of the Nightmare Moon, in the middle of the dusty flats of nothingness, stood an oasis, a town known as Nickerville. It stood alone on the banks along a river, protected on one side by a canyon wall, and dwarfed by a massive desert on the other. Small homes rested shakily on the sandy ground, swaying in the wasteland wind. It was a quiet town, where shade was a luxury, and water was a way of life. Its no less than one thousand inhabitants choked on sand and sun, parched beyond compare. Those that worked the fields did so sparingly, so as not to be sucked dry and stripped down to the bone by the elements. It was a friendly place, albeit inhospitable to those who foolishly chose to travel from abroad.

The damned sun could make a strong stallion beg like a foal. Waves of unrelenting heat rippled from the ground, filling the air with a sickening feeling that was not unlike being roasted alive in an oven. The river was the only solace. It was the silver lining in a hellhole of fire and dust. It gave us life, and it was all we had that kept the town alive.

It didn’t seem like anything special, because it wasn’t. Ponies went about their lives like in every other small village, doing the same routine, not thinking or caring about what might possibly be going outside their own little bubbles. It was a beautiful concept, but one that I was never able to adhere to.

I was just a colt, barely into my older years. I wasn’t old enough to be a stallion, but just shy of being declared a foal. I was a regular, only slightly on the short side, earth pony. My coat sported a dark, dusty red tinge, my mane and tail, short cropped, a bright white. I resided on the edge of town, just a few yards away from an ocean of sand. I remember little from my early years other than an unrelenting thirst that nagged at me in every waking moment of my life, and the defining event of my foalhood: my visit to the house at the end of the street.

“Hey, Reel!” a strong-looking colt called to me from across the schoolyard. It caught me by surprise, not due to the volume of his voice, but by the fact that it wasn’t common practice for anypony to be calling my name at all. He and his cronies approached me, effectively interrupting my train of thought and forcing me to engage conversation with them.

They stopped a few feet in front of me as I rose to my hooves. I was resting under the cover of the oak tree, trying desperately to shake off some of the sweat from my body and get a moment’s reprieve. The one who had called me, the earth colt known as Dustpan, moved to speak, but hesitated as his eyes fell to my flank. Others did this often now, and it always left a look of distaste on their face.

I was a late bloomer. It had been months since the last pony in my class had gotten her cutie mark, and now I was left to be ridiculed as the only foal in the school to wear the title of Blank Flank. My father blamed it on me thinking too much, and not taking any action; My mother thought that it was because I was having trouble making friends. I thought the reason was because there truly was nothing in this world for me to be good at.

Anybody in my class could tell you that I’m not exactly… there, most of the time. I zone out often; I lose focus and my mind is left to wonder. I’ve always had this feeling that there is something more important I could be doing at any given moment, something beyond the world I saw before me, beckoning me away from the dusty town of Nickerville. Ponies would think I was crazy, and would tell me that I should live in the now, but living in the now is damn hard when the now is suffering in one-hundred and five degree weather.

“Uh, me and the guys have some really sweet plans for Nightmare Night, if you’re interested, that is, if you’re not busy.” He smiled sheepishly and his friends nodded in agreement. I had almost forgotten that Nightmare Night was only a week away. I had intended to spend that evening doing nothing, but seeing as nopony ever asked me if I was free to hang out, I decided to humor them.

“Sure. I’ve got nothing else going on.” One of the colts in back chuckled and I distinctly caught Dustpan’s back hoof colliding with his shin. I had no idea what they had in mind, but I was curious to see why exactly they decided to invite me to their get together.

“Sounds good, Reel. Don’t worry, you’re definitely going to have an interesting time.” He contorted his face into what was possibly the most fake smile I’ve ever seen, and turned to walk back across the courtyard.

I took step after labored step on my way home from school, my only drive to return to my home was the assurance that I would get a small portion of our water ration upon my arrival. The dirt road of Nickerville central gave way to sand as I trekked into the residential area of town. Brown grass grew in the yards of some of the homes, a futile attempt at trying to make their homes more enticing.

I walked down the path and took a right unto my “street.” On the far end, just a few blocks down from my house, perched an enormous house that cast a long shadow in the setting sun. It was in such disrepair, I found it amazing that it still stood on its foundation. It was the mansion of the founder of Nickerville, and hadn’t been touched since the day of his death over fifty years ago.

There were many rumors: some say that it was haunted; some say that there are all sorts of hidden treasures within, but nopony ever thought about stepping hoof inside. It intrigued me and terrified me at the same time. It sent chills down my spine, which wasn’t an unwelcoming sensation in the hottest bucking town in Equestria.

Climbing up the steps into my humble abode, I caught sight of my mother and father sitting in the den, wordlessly reading their respective texts. I walked over to the pitcher that was left out for me, and drank the very little amount of water with extreme dissatisfaction. My parents acknowledged my arrival, and promptly returned to their reading. I didn’t feel the need to speak. I just set down my pitcher, groaning softly in thirst and frustration. It was late enough, so I decided now would be a good time to retire for the night.

I walked into the threshold of my room, and lay down on the soft mattress with a characteristic thud. I had no sheets, as it was too hot for them anyway. Nothing furnished my room other than my bed, and a desk in the corner. A dusty window looked out over the desert, giving me a semi scenic view of the setting sun.

I lay and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. As the temperature rose, my breathing became quicker and heavier from sheer discomfort. Sweat plastered my coat to the bed. After a moment or two a familiar sensation started to take hold of my brain, forcing me to close my eyes. I whimpered pitifully as thoughts of my life situation fought their way into my head.

Physical needs were so easy to relieve, and I did so with ease and without much desire. But something always nagged at me, a sort of restlessness in my soul. I shut myself off from others, trying desperately to find spiritual solace. I was always wanting, needing, and craving something that was beyond reach. And the worst part was I had no idea what my heart desired, only that it did.

I fought it, and tried with all my might to keep it down, but nothing worked. It nagged at me constantly, and left me exhausted, more so than the heat. Hopeless questions lashed at my tired soul. What was I here for? Did I really even matter? I thought all these dismal thoughts through as I did every night, until drifted off into a heavy, sweaty sleep.

The day of Nightmare Night came along slowly. I was let out of my arithmetic class, where I had just been chastised for not taking any notes, and instead drawing pictures in my notebook. The teacher had looked deeply concerned when she saw them, but they were just random symbols I decided to draw out of boredom. I just nodded and took her lecture, not really caring what she had to say. It wasn’t like I needed to write notes; numbers just seemed to make sense in my head.

I hadn’t even considered what I was going to wear tonight, and figured it probably didn’t really matter. I didn’t want to join in the festivities of Nightmare Night, I just wanted to know what exactly Dustpan had in mind for me tonight. I knew it was going to be some sort of stupid prank, but for some reason I was really curious to see what his master plan was.

Just as the sun began to fall below the horizon, I made my way to Town Square, where I caught sight of Dustpan and his friends waiting for me where they said they would be. He was dressed up as a manticore, looking smug and extremely hot. He motioned me over, and his friends fell silent.

“Hey, Reel, are you ready? Where’s your costume?” he said, frowning slightly.

“I’m going as a pony,” I said blankly, and the same culprit from before burst out laughing. Dustpan joined him, and soon everypony was adding to the cacophony.

Dustpan wiped tears from his eyes, “hey, whatever floats your boat. Let’s hit up some houses.”

We walked from house to house, asking ponies who answered for candy. I walked shakily under the weight of my saddlebags, which began to grow heavy from all the sugar and sweets inside. I didn’t really want to eat it, but it would seem weird if I wasn’t taking any, so I just went along with it. Dustpan’s crew walked ahead of me, giving me occasional glances backwards and whispering to each other.

We turned the corner onto my walkway. I saw my house to the right, but they continued past the houses on this street with a new-found purpose.

“Oh, these houses don’t give out any good candy,” he said, snickering as I caught up to the group. We were heading straight to the mansion at the end of the road.

As luck would have it, that’s exactly where we were headed. The ponies stopped right in front of the plot of sand in front of the stone walkway into the broken down building. Dustpan wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders, and pointed with the other at the front door.

“Alright, so here’s the deal Reel. If you want to keep hanging out with us,” I didn’t. “Then you’re going to have to pass a little initiation. What I want you to do is go up to the door and knock three times. Pretty easy, right?” He took his leg off of me and nudged me closer to the entrance.

“Well, then have fun being the laughing stock of the school for the rest of the year, Blank Flank.” This caused a huge uproar from the foals in attendance.

The idea seemed ridiculous having to go inside a building to earn respect from these ponies. I considered just walking away. Still, the building had piqued my curiosity since I was old enough to walk on my own, and now I was basically granted a chance to see for myself if there was anything to the stories behind the mansion.

Also, the idea of not being pestered about being a blank flank for the rest of the year sounded pretty good too.

The desert wind started picking up speed. It gave me pause, but I soon continued on my path, trying not to give any thought to the chilling coincidence. I licked my lips in concentration.

A few more steps and I was on the porch. I crept the remainder of the distance to the wooden frame. The floorboards creaked under my weight. I lifted my foreleg, and took a deep breath. My hoof rapped against the door three times. I was met with silence. I stood there for a good ten seconds, and after making sure that nothing was going to happen, turned to walk back the way I came.

I jumped as I was met with Driver, a green pegasus, floating a few inches in front of my nose. A unicorn by the name of Lift was standing on my right. Before I knew what was happening, Driver dove into me and sent me reeling backwards. At that moment, the door swung open behind me, and I fell into darkness just as the magical field around the entrance closed it shut.

I stood and dusted myself off, not able to see where I was due to the sheer blackness of the house. I tried the door, but found that Driver was holding it closed with his magic. I banged hard on the door with my forelegs.

“Let me out of here!” I screamed, shreds of panic putting an edge in my voice. I looked around frantically, trying to find another way out. I heard Dustpan and his crew laughing hysterically just outside the door.

“You’re such a riot, you know that Blank Flank? I can’t believe the ‘smartest kid in our school’ would have fallen for that! You should have seen the look on your face!” he said, I made out the sound of him rolling around on the ground outside.

I shook where I stood, scared beyond my wits. Their laughter continued outside for a good few minutes before Dustpan moved to speak again.

I heard the roar of hooves against wood as everypony outside ran to the nearest window. I ran with them only to see the shaded window get wrapped in the same blue envelope.
It didn’t budge.

“Reel, I-I don’t know what’s going on, are you alright in there?” Dustpan sounded genuinely worried, his voice strained from fear.

Just then the wind roared with renewed vigor. It rattled the house, causing all sorts of creaks and moans from deep within the decaying wooden walls. I heard the colts outside scream, like they had just seen a ghost. The sound of hoofsteps got further and further away, and I realized that they had all run off, leaving me abandoned in the house. I was paralyzed on the spot, and my heart began to sink.

As soon as I was able to think straight, I panicked and bucked at the window as hard as I could, but it felt almost like it kicked back at me. It sent me skidding along the floor, bruising my right side and head as I collided with the wooden stairwell. Tears streamed down my eyes as I hopelessly felt myself losing consciousness.

Voices filled my mind, disconnected thoughts and dissonant music. I made out only one single phrase as it whisked its way through my frazzled and fading brain. A whisper in the roaring wind of my thoughts.

A bright light pierced through my closed eyelids. The sound of a brutal rushing wind enveloped my eardrums. It felt as if my mouth was lined in cotton. I tried to relieve myself of the sensation, but found myself unable to form the saliva necessary. The throbbing in my skull was dulled, as was any sensation in my limbs. I tried to right myself, but ended up falling back on my stomach.

I opened my eyes as wide as the wind would allow, and found myself stranded in the middle of a desert. The sun overhead was cooking me alive, and the wind washed away any sounds that could have been heard otherwise. Calling out for help would have been hopeless, and knew I had to save any moisture in my body if I had any hopes of survival.

I rose to my feet, trying to get a better look of my surroundings. There wasn't any sort of shelter for miles. I was alone in a desert, beyond hope of making it more than a few yards in any direction before a very untimely end. It was a scene right out my nightmares, trapped and left alone to die and suffer in solitude. Why then, did it feel so familiar? It didn't feel like a dream, but more of an extension of something real. How could something so horrible be the cause of my loss of life?

I convulsed and fell to my stomach once more, knowing full well that this would be the last time. I breathed deeply, my skin blistering in the terrible sun, the thirst building, drying my insides and leaving me with nothing.

It dawned on me that this was my life. It was only a view into the situation I found myself on a daily basis. An insatiable thirst for something beyond my reach, in desert of my own solitude. I created for myself a reality of pain and suffering, shutting myself off from the world, hoping that I could find some sort of solace in my soul. What would have been any other foal’s nightmare was only a reflection of the real nightmare, the one I lived and suffered through every day.

I felt no reason to go on. If this what the rest of my life was going to be like, then I couldn't think of anything better than for it to end it there. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold close surround me, that comforting cold that took me far away from the hellhole I called home. For the first time in my short life, I felt happy.

My eyes were forced open. The wind stopped, and the sun somehow seemed less relentless. It was silent. I looked around, and found myself shielded from the elements by some sort of force field. It was magic, but a kind that I had never seen before. Just on the horizon, I noticed a tall figure, no more than a silhouette against the desert sky. It seemed benevolent somehow, like it’s only intentions were good. It turned and walked away without a word as the force field began to fade. My vision too began to fade, becoming black around the edges as reality dissolved.

I sputtered and coughed, jerking my eyes open, my vision incredibly blurry and my head swimming from the impact on my skull. My stomach lurched and I vomited on the wooden floorboards, shaking with exertion and exhaustion. My mane felt wet and sticky.

I lay there a few moments, trying to gather my thoughts about what had truly just happened. I felt ashamed at myself, knowing what I let my life become. The only thing that really left me confused is who that shadow was. Who was it that saved me? Would I have truly died if it weren’t for my savior?

I wasn’t given much time to think, as soon the whispers that had plagued my dream became louder. Perking up my ears, it became clear that they were coming from up the stairs.

I groaned as I attempted to lift my broken body from the mess I had made. I fell the first time after slipping in my sick. The second time was a little more successful, as I used the support from the stairs to pull me to my hooves. My legs felt like rubber, and were threatening to give under my weight. I wanted to find the origin of the sound, as finding another pony might be my only way out of here. I disregarded the ominous vibe it brought, and only concerned myself with finding an escape.

It seemed like the whispers gave me strength, and called me too them, almost like who or whatever was making them wanted to speak to me.

I decided making it up the staircase with any sort of dignity was out of the question, so instead slithered up them on my belly, pulling myself forward with my hooves, step by step. My eyes had adjusted to the very little light in the house, and I was able to guide myself with relative ease.

I took a few seconds to catch my breath. I cursed my luck, realizing that I was probably suffering from a concussion. The house began to shake, under the force of what felt like a small earthquake. The whispering became louder and more aggressive, and was growing increasingly louder. I looked around frantically as dust was thrown from the shelves and tossed from the floor as the shaking increased.

It suddenly stopped, and all was still for a moment. I sighed in relief, thinking that the strange phenomenon had ended.

The universe had other plans. A loud roar erupted from somewhere in the bowels of the house. I felt myself leave the floor, as if the stairs had ejected me from where I lay, and I landed in a heap at the top of the stairwell. Gasping for air, I thanked the universe for the assistance. I wasn’t going to be surprised by anything else.

Feeling that I couldn’t possibly look anymore deplorable than I already did, I stood to my hooves to continue my trek towards the whispering, now limping on my bruised right foreleg.

I perked up as I realized that my search would soon come to an end. Down the hall to the right of the stairs stood a closed doorway. A soft glowing emanated from the crack under the door, and the whispering became slowly louder as I approached. I felt the air getting slightly cooler, only slightly. Steeling my nerves, I made the rest of the way towards the room.

Something was… pulling me. I quaked with fear, focusing all of my energy on not trying to scream as my hooves propelled me forward.

I was permitted to stop right in front of the doorway. I breathed deeply, and took the handle in my teeth. It was locked. I guess this will have to just be done the hard way.

I turned my backside to the door. Licking my lips and furrowing my brow in concentration, I lifted my back legs into the air, putting unwanted pressure on my bad leg. I kicked backwards as hard as I could muster, and ended up falling flat on my face when the door swung open on its own.

Fear seized my heart. I turned and righted myself as quickly as I could, expecting the worst. Instead I was met with an almost entirely normal room. A pair of drawers, a bed, and a dusty window garnished the glowing quarters. I stepped through the threshold to get a better look. I was scared beyond my wits, but my curiosity got the better of me. A rush of adrenalin pulled me further still.

In the corner of the room, resting on a large armchair, was an earth pony. He was obviously very old, with a graying mane and wrinkled skin. He held his head in his hooves, staring at the floor. I came to the sickening conclusion that the stallion was the source of the ominous glowing, and my stomach lurched with fear.

He looked cold. He shivered where he sat, looking lost and faded. Not physically, but somehow spiritually. My fear was replaced with empathy. I wanted to help somehow, but I didn’t know what I could do.

He lifted his head, and turned to face me. I stopped breathing, too afraid to move a single muscle. His face contorted and twisted, his eyes keeping their hard gaze on me, sending tremors into my soul.

“I had it all; at least, I thought I did. When this town was founded as a mining outpost, I became rich beyond my wildest dreams. Those who chose to follow me suffered the consequences. I was greedy, taking advantage of many for my own gratification. My selfishness left others to die and beg at my hooves. I didn’t need anypony else. I fell ill, and the last thing I can remember is closing my eyes for a short rest. I died how I lived, alone. Only, I didn’t move on. Instead, I stayed, not here, not there, departed from the flow of time, left with only my thoughts and the material things that surrounded me. For fifty years I’ve suffered, and I only wish I knew why. The desert is a cruel place.”
We are so alike.

“I’m sorry, didn’t you have any friends or a family to take care of you?”

“No, I was left to die with any heir to my riches, no close friends, only my precious mine and my money.”

“What do you know? You’re only a foal; I’ve had what has felt like an eternity to contemplate the world.”

“But how can you have a world if you had nopony to share it with? Ponies need to be able to share, to love, to show companionship. To have a life without friends is like… not living at all.” It suddenly hit me that I was teaching this pony a lesson, a lesson that I myself hadn’t known. To live without friends is a terrible way to live. The desert of my nightmares and the frustration in my heart suddenly had direction and meaning.

I thought hard, trying to make sense of it all. How could I have just taught somepony a lesson that I myself had never adhered to? Could my forced solitude really be the reason for my suffering?

“Maybe you stayed here for a reason. I think the world was giving you time to figure out what mistake you made in your life, the one that had caused you so much misery.”

“It was a foolish life, I only wish I had time to go back and make amends with all those I had caused so much pain for my own personal gain. For fifty years I thought and thought, not realizing my mistake. All it took was one colt to teach me the error of my ways.” He focused on me, eyeing me over and making me feel slightly self-conscious about my blank backside.

“I sense a longing in your soul. You’ve lived your whole life without satisfaction, always wanting more than the world you see around you. This town has nothing for you. I thank you for helping me see the light, but I can’t help but feel there is a conflict in your own soul, something you have to find on your own. But it isn’t all bad for you! Judging by your cutie mark, I’d say maybe this little interaction has helped you discover a little something about yourself as well,” he said, chuckling softly.

My cutie mark? What was he talking about? There’s nothing back there, I checked…

Wait a minute! There was something there! I did a double-take, and there it was. My own cutie mark!

I frowned, my short spell of elation quickly replaced with confusion. Emblazoned on my flank was what appeared to be a leather-bound book. It was bare on the front, no words or marks, just a book.

The old earth pony-ghost stood from his armchair and made his way across the room to where I sat, confused and slightly deflated with my lackluster cutie mark. I had never written anything in my life, and I was only partial to reading. The stallion seemed to pick up on my somber mood.

“It is an honor to see you get your cutie mark. What is your name, young stallion?”

“Listen, Reel, not everypony knows what a cutie mark means when they first get it. The desert hasn’t been kind to you, you have an aura of spiritual exhaustion. I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me.” He started to fade, becoming transparent, and his glow becoming fainter. “In my dresser is a little stash of gold ore that I dug up on my first trip into the mines all those years ago. It’s the last thing I own that hasn’t been taken away by the ponies I used to work with. I think that ore will be enough to take you out of this town for good. Just follow the river until you come across the railroad. I suspect it still runs, considering this town is still on the Equestrian map.”

He laughed heartily, lifting his head into the air and bellowing loudly, despite his voice becoming fainter with his dissipating body. He turned his now softened and compassionate eyes on me, and touched my chest with the tip of his hoof.

I gasped as his icy touch dug straight through my body and into my heart. My pace quickened, my adrenalin pumped as the chill took hold of my every limb and every orifice. It was something I never experienced before, a cold so enticing, so powerful it was nearly orgasmic. It left my soul feeling numb, and left me whimpering for more when he pulled his hoof away. I shivered and shook, closing my eyes, trying to hold onto the feeling for a moment longer.

When I opened them again, I was alone. I sat on my haunches, more confused than ever. So many questions were left unanswered. I turned to stare at my cutie mark, and sighed deeply. Remembering what he had told me, I walked over to the drawer, still shaky from the encounter. In the top drawer behind various papers and trinkets was the prize. A small block of gold, only about half the size of my eye, rested in the very back of the compartment. Licking my lips, I grabbed the small fortune and stowed it quickly in my saddlebag. Just as it was tucked safely away, I heard a loud bang from downstairs, followed by the sound of several ponies calling out my name.

I limped down the stairs to meet Dustpan and a couple of security ponies waiting for me at the landing. The door had been forced open with what appeared to be a large battering ram. Dustpan rushed over to me and wrapped his forelegs around my neck.

“I’m so sorry, Reel. I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I feel terrible for leaving you, but I had to wait until daytime to get you help,” he sobbed into my coat.

The chief of security, a powerful looking earth pony, came over to our little display. He pulled dustpan away from me, and rested a hoof on my shoulder.

“Are you alright?” I nodded in response. He took hold of my broken leg and applied pressure to my head, feeling the place where I had been hit. “You look like you need to see a doctor. Follow me and we’ll get you some assistance.”

I stood to my hooves, only just now realizing how exhausted I truly was. I wobbled for a moment, then decided right now would be a really good time for a power nap.

\\\.~~o00o~~.///
Depart with me, follow the light
Get lost on the way
Take me into the darkest night
To tread tall in the day
Take a dive into the unknown
Nightmares survived, knowledge shown
Live by the guide
Die by the guide
Expect nothing when you go
///.~~o00o~~.\\\

Relapse and Wicker's Guide to the Departed

by PegasYs

Chapter One: We Depart