//------------------------------// // 2 // Story: Golden Prose // by Field //------------------------------// I was more comfortable than I’d been in days, but my sleep was still fitful. Disjointed flashes of a dream popped in and out of my head like I was trying to watch three different movies at the same time. I saw bits and pieces of my arrival in Ponyville the day before, but from a different perspective than my own. I saw parts of the town I knew I hadn’t visited; the inside of buildings I had no real business being in. All the while I had the distinct feeling of being watched. Out of my peripheral vision I caught fleeting glimpses of a dark purple and black mare. She seemed to blink in and out of the shadows, gathering no attention from other ponies nearby. The last thing I remembered from the dream was running. I had to get somewhere before something figured out what was going on. The next thing I was consciously aware of was a blinding pain in my left foreleg. I cried out sharply in the dark, almost scaring myself in the process. I fumbled around trying to make sense of my surroundings only to find that I was still right there on the mattress I’d gone to sleep on the night before. Sometime during the night I’d managed to turn myself sideways however, putting myself in perfect position to slam my foreleg into the leg of the couch-side table during my dream flailing. If it was still dark outside I must have only been asleep for a couple of hours. I felt far from rested, so that must have been the case. I did however feel like the heat of the house had sucked every last drop of moisture from my body like a kiln. Even with all the windows open there was no air flow to speak of. It was like the house existed in a pocket of dead air separate from everything else. My eyes were already fairly adjusted to the darkness so I didn’t bother turn the lights on before setting off to the kitchen. The house was still new to me, so in the dark it was like an alien landscape. I slowly trotted my way across the cardboard box obstacle course that was my living room and then through the dining room, finally reaching the kitchen. None of my glassware was unpacked yet and I sure as buck wasn’t going to drink out of anything I found in the cabinets here. The simple solution was to just drink straight from the tap, and that was my intention as I pushed on the metal handle to turn the water on. Only no water came out. The pipes didn’t even gurgle, and as I stood there perplexed I realized that I didn’t hear the well pump going in the basement. I snorted with disgust and put my hoof on the wall, sidestepping until I felt a light switch. I tapped it several times to no avail. That meant that the generator must have been out. “Luna damn it…” I muttered under my breath. It was stupid of me, but I’d hoped that despite the faulty fuel gauge there had actually been enough juice left to run the house for a couple days. “Good thing I didn’t go to the damned market” I said out loud to no one in particular. The fridge hadn’t even been on long enough to get cold. Last thing I needed was to stink up my new kitchen with spoiled food roasting in the summer heat. At least I knew that I did have one drink in the house that would be just fine without refrigeration, though it wouldn’t really do much for my thirst. As I dug through one of the boxes in my living room, a flashlight shakily gripped between my teeth, I couldn’t help but wish that I’d hired someone to pack my old apartment up for me. It was like I’d just run through every room randomly tossing anything I came across into a box. So far in this box I’d found plates, a winter sweater, a stack of old CDs, and what I could only guess had used to be a can of the putty used to clean the dirt and dust out of electronics. The lid must have come off in transit because the goop now clung to everything, aided in part by the heat of the house which had melted it down to a stickier consistency. “Nope!” I exclaimed loudly, sliding the box towards the front door unceremoniously. Yet another thing to throw out tomorrow. Luckily it hadn’t been the box I was looking for. The next box I opened was. It contained all of my outdoor equipment, the one thing that I had packed up with any reverence. Dropping the flashlight from my teeth I then lifted up my bottle of apple brandy and took a quick swig. It may not have been refreshing but it was certainly helping my care less about the heat. With the flashlight in my teeth once more I set out digging through the box of equipment, stacking the unwanted items on the table as I went. My binoculars, a GPS unit, field guides for most anything I could ever hope to encounter, a flare gun, and finally the thing that I was actually looking for; a small propane lantern. Even though I barely felt like I had slept at all I was still too hot to fall back asleep. With the lantern casting a cool, white light across the room I browsed the bookcase again for something to read myself to sleep with. I couldn’t help but wish I’d had one of Golden Prose’s books. I didn’t even know what genre she wrote, but I was curious about her writing now that I had sort of met her. Rather than risk finding anything else hidden behind the other books on the shelf I clumsily selected one of the Shining Dawn books that I still had yet to reshelf. I left the other two where they lay on the floor and shuffled my way back to the sofa to read. Apparently I had selected the book titled In Her Dreams to Prevail. Even though I was looking to put myself to sleep I wasn’t going to waste my time with a boring story, so I skipped ahead and began skimming through the first quarter of the book. In the first scene I stopped on the mare protagonist was preparing herself for a dinner date. It was boring, so I skipped ahead. Apparently the dinner date had gone well because now it was a wedding scene. That was even more boring than the last so I skipped ahead yet again, my notched left ear twitching with annoyance as it often did. The next scene was more my style. The mare had just gotten her first real job at a publishing firm and was celebrating with a wild night out on the town. I didn’t get past the first page of the scene when suddenly something crashed into my front door so loudly I nearly jumped out of my skin. There was a split second hesitation between the initial impact and the banging of hooves on wood that followed but it was enough time for me to drop the book and be shakily on my own hooves. “Hello! Please, is anyone there! I need help!” A mare’s voice broke through between the banging. Even in my haze I recognized it. Standing to the side I tapped the door latch and it swung open, followed by the tumbling form of Golden Prose. She scrambled to her hooves remarkably quickly and bucked the door shut behind her, whirling around to face me as she did so. She looked as surprised to see me there as I did to see her. She also looked like she’d been through hell. Her legs were covered in scratches and twigs poked out from the straps of her saddlebag. Her chest was heaving like she’d just run a marathon. “What in Celestia’s name are YOU doing here?” She spat out when she finally got her breath back. “What am I doing here? This is my damn house, what are YOU doing here screaming like Nightmare Moon herself is nipping at your flanks?” I shot back, sounding far less serious than I had hoped. Golden Prose seemed to remember her initial panic for a moment and darted to the front window, peering out nervously like she expected something to be there. “Is someone after you?” I offered, putting two and two together. In my head I pictured Vinyl Scratch chasing the mare through the woods like a serial killer, but instead of a knife she wielded a microphone, her purple sunglasses awkwardly taped onto the front of a hockey mask. “Yes! Well, I think so… I...I just woke up in the Everfree and somepony… someponIES were there. I didn’t know what was going on so I ran.” She swallowed hard and looked around the room. “Could you please turn the lights on?” Any jokes I had in mind went out the window. Even though her story was vague and unhelpful at best I could tell that something had really frightened her. And there was her mention of the Everfree Forest. I didn’t think I’d have to deal with any creeps lurking around there so soon. “I’m sorry but the house has no power, I just moved in today… err, yesterday.” I replied, peering out the window alongside her. I didn’t see anything. “There’s a flashlight on the coffee table if it makes you feel any better.” To my surprise she trotted over to the table, but instead of taking the flashlight she took the lantern itself in her teeth and sat it before her on the floor. “I’m Mossy Hooves, by the way. What were you doing in the Everfree in the first place? You know no one goes there.” As a precaution I locked the door before heading back to my seat on the couch. I noticed that my book had fallen open on the coffee table. Celestia must have loved me, as it had landed on top of the gun I’d found earlier, hiding it from view. “Golden Prose, charmed.” She showed no reaction to my name, which in itself was another blessing. My question really earned her ire. “Weren’t you listening? I woke up there! I don’t know how I got there. I’m not so stupid as to just go take a nap in a haunted forest! The last thing I remember is putting my colt to bed.” I raised my forehooves in defense. “Relax, relax, I was just asking.” Golden Prose’s eyes widened as she processed her own last statement. “Oh Celestia, my little Bookmark! I have to get back to my condo; he’s there all by himself! What if he wakes up and can’t find me?” Now I was really feeling bad. Golden Prose may have shot me enough dirty looks in one day to fill an entire photo album, but the colt was just a foal. No foal deserved to wake up in a strange place without their parents. “Isn’t anypony else in town? Like your husband?” I dared to make an assumption, cringing internally as I did so. “He is not a part of our lives.” The mare replied bitterly, giving me yet another sour look. This one thankfully softened quickly. “I feel guilty asking this after you helped me out yesterday, but would you be willing to walk me back to town? I don’t have a light and I don’t really know my way back from here. It was just pure luck that I stumbled across your house. I’ll even pay to have you put up in a hotel for the night since you don’t have electricity.” I was already willing to help her out, but that last point had me sold beyond a shadow of a doubt. I would have carried her home on my back for a little air conditioning. As quickly as I could I rummaged around for my saddlebag, finding it buried underneath a pile of newspaper I used to pad some of the moving boxes. Into it I surreptitiously slid my bottle of brandy, my flashlight, and then hesitated before grabbing the book. “It was so weird; I found a gun jammed behind some books on the bookshelf.” I explained nervously as I revealed the weapon by moving the book. “The previous owner left a lot of stuff here.” The mare didn’t seem fazed, so with the lantern levitating above her head we headed out the front door. As I stopped to lock it I noticed two torn pieces of a scroll on the ground. They must have fallen out of Golden Prose’s saddlebag when she crashed into the door. I picked them up with my teeth and offered them to her. She expertly levitated the two pages near the lantern so we could read them. The first page was blank except for a title scrawled in fine calligraphy. Departure by Golden Prose We looked at each other, but I didn’t even need to ask. “I didn’t write this, but Departure was going to be the name of the next story I wrote.” Golden Prose informed me, a certain uneasiness in her voice. “What does the next page say?” Hardtack Jack was working late in the diner kitchen. All the other diner staff had gone home for the night. The extra work helped put his mind at ease and stopped him from thinking about his brother. Ever since Griddlecake has passed away Jack had never been the same. Mood swings and depression wreaked havoc on his day to day life; no one really knew what would set the pony off. Pounding away at a bowl full of potatoes he barely noticed as the lights overhead began to flicker. Only when they blinked out completely did he even look up. But by then it was too late. A cold chill raced up his body and suddenly he was drowning. He pawed at the air wildly, trying to clear the inky blackness away. It was tangible; the darkness shouldn’t have been tangible. That was the last thought Jack had before the darkness washed away everything that he was. “How did you meet the cook at the diner? You left before he came out of the kitchen to talk to me.” I was already feeling unsettled by Golden Prose’s confusion, and further mention of Jack’s brother only made it worse. “I really didn’t write this…” Golden Prose almost seemed to be pleading. “It sounds like my style, but I haven’t been able to write anything in months.” I wish I believed she was lying, but unfortunately I didn’t. Golden Prose tucked the pages away in her saddlebag as I turned back to lock the door. Whether the diner was on the way to her condo or not I wanted to stop by and see if Hardtack was there, just to ease my mind. A piercing yelp erupted behind me and I fumbled the keys as I spun around. Golden Prose had a hoof over her mouth, and then she pointed to the tree line behind the house. Looming just behind the generator shed was an outline of what looked like a pony standing in the shadows. I shot the mare an ‘I’m embarrassed for you’ look and fished my flashlight out of my saddlebag. By the time I brought the beam of light to bear on the shed, the figure was gone. A whisper like distant cicadas blew in the wind behind us and we spun back around only to see that the pony-shaped shadow was out in the open, standing in the middle of the path towards town. I blinked, trying to get a good look at the pony, but my eyes refused to focus on it. It tickled the back of my eyes like I was trying to stare into a strobe light. Shadows seemed to waft off the figure like black steam. I thought I could see what looked like an apron draped over the pony’s chest, but what I knew for certain I saw was the axe clutched in his teeth. “Early biiiiiiird special… satisfaction GUARANTEEEEED!” The voice was unmistakably Hardtack Jacks, but it was corrupted and hollow. It sounded much more distant than he really was. His head erupted into an unnatural spasm as he spoke, causing the axe to twitch and shake threateningly. Before I could call out to him the pony blinked out of view once more, and suddenly he was on us. I barely had time to drop to the ground as the axe blade swung from the shadows above my head. The Hardtack shadow reared up and threatened to stomp my head in, but I rolled onto my back to face him, aiming my flashlight up at him as I did so. The beam caught him square in the face and he roared in an agony that sounded more beastly than pony-like. The axe fell from his mouth, the blade burying itself in the ground centimeters away from my head. I bucked out with my hind legs hoping to knock the shadow-pony off balance, but my hooves met with solid resistance from Hardtack’s chest. He was a fairly well built pony, but it felt like I’d just kicked a bear. Seeing that my efforts were failing Golden Prose threw the front door open again with her magic, dragging me roughly through it with another telekinetic hoof behind her. The thing that had once been Hardtack was still reeling around outside as she slammed the door behind us. “That’s what I saw in the forest! What in Luna’s name IS it?” The mare stammered prancing as she dropped the lantern to the floor. I floundered, unable to find the right words. “That’s… I think that’s the cook! The pony in that page you wrote. I mean, it’s him, but it’s not him! I don’t know!” I rambled as I stepped back from the door, waiting for him to inevitably come bursting through. I desperately wished the generator had held out just a little longer. If I could at least see the pony clearly I might be able to fight him. I’d dropped the flashlight when the mare had yanked me through the doorway. The only light we had left now was the lantern. Golden Prose’s ears perked up suddenly and I saw something glow on the coffee table. The soft golden light of her magic was wrapped around the revolver and the bullets, expertly loading the weapon. “Good thinking. Have you ever used a gun before?” I mused. She tilted her head and gave me her best ‘oh please’ look. I was glad she knew what she was doing. Bit-gripped guns were designed to be used by earth ponies, but they were beyond awkward even on a good day. I was a terrible shot. I was going to say something about trying not to shoot the tip of my one good ear off, but that was when the picture window beside the bookcase exploded. It was one of the empty fuel cans from the shed, but it was cloaked in shadows. It sailed across the living room and abruptly changed course in midair, Golden Prose now directly in its trajectory. A second can blasted in through what was left of the window, this one had its eyes set on me. Golden Prose managed to sidestep the first can but forgot about the lantern. The can smashed into the floor where she had been standing and skidded into the lantern, shattering the glass casing and propelling it into the pile of boxes in the center of the room. The newspaper piled amongst the boxes ignited so quickly that I barely had time to think. All I could focus on were the shadowy fuel cans as they seemed to dissolve into nothingness at the sudden eruption of firelight. My senses returned to me when I realized that the fire was spreading to the boxes, but more importantly the lantern still had a mostly full bottle of propane attached and it was in the middle of the blaze. Golden Prose had come to the same realization and we both barreled out the front door, momentarily oblivious to the other danger that remained outside. “Secret… family… RECIPE!” The Hardtack shadow was back. The things he was yelling were almost comical. It was like his mind was misfiring; just spouting out random things he would have said in life. I wondered if there was anything left of the pony hiding within the shadows. The fire back inside the house raged, but I spotted one source of light outside with us. My lost flashlight. I ran towards it as the shadow-pony closed in once more. I dove for the light, grabbing it in my teeth and whirling around aiming it at him, willing the light to stop his murderous advance. The beam struck Hardtack in the chest and he dropped the axe, covering his face with his hooves. The shadows seemed to evaporate off of his body. It gave me a clearer look at his face. His eyes were hollow and weeping liquid shadow. I suddenly knew there was no life left inside him. “SHOO HIWM!” I yelled awkwardly around the flashlight, not daring to move for fear he might escape the beam of light. Golden Prose obliged without hesitation. The glow around the revolver brightened as she squeezed the trigger as rapidly as she could, discharging all six rounds in rapid succession. Every shot found its mark in the shadow’s body, splintering off pieces more like a chunk of burnt firewood than a pony. The shadow-pony dropped to one hoof and growled, wounded but still hanging on. I finally scrambled to my hooves and backed away from shadow. It bent down to retrieve the axe once more, and then evaporated into cinders as the propane bottle inside the house finally exploded, bathing in area in bright firelight. With the danger gone for now at least I suddenly realized what was happening before me. My house was engulfed in flames and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The newspaper, the cardboard, the kiln-like dryness that had sucked the moisture from the air and undoubtedly from the wooden structure. It was like a campfire waiting to happen. “No no no no NO!” I croaked in a strained voice, trotting in place frantically trying to figure out what to do. Everything I owned was in that house. Everything I owned was in one room of that house; the room at the epicenter of the fire. I dashed toward the front door, desperate to save some of my belongings from the inferno. My legs flew out from under me and I felt a magical pull dragging me backwards across the ground. “It’s not worth it Mossy…” Golden Prose’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it as she gently placed a hoof on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do…” I cried out in anger and frustration, pounding my hooves against the dusty ground. “What in the name of Celestia is going on!? Why is this happening!?” I didn’t expect any answers; I just needed to yell since I couldn’t do anything else “I don’t know, Moss. But we can’t stay here. More of those… things might show up and the batteries in your flashlight won’t last forever.” I knew she was right, and I couldn’t just sit here and watch my life turn to ashes. “And what if we run into more? We’re out of bullets.” I certainly wasn’t going to trying fighting one of them hoof to hoof again. Golden Prose nudged me to my hooves and we started towards the path to town. She levitated my flashlight back to me, then lifted the flap of her saddlebag and revealed something inside with a weak smile. “It seemed like a good idea at the time to take this… I’m sorry it’s not something more sentimental.” Inside her left saddlebag was something orange. It was small, but I was glad we had it. If there were more shadow ponies out there I was certain they’d think twice when looking down the barrel of a flare gun.