• Published 17th Oct 2012
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Equestrylvania - Brony_Fife



A Castlevania/MLP crossover. But enough talk! Have at you!

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Intermission: Out of Time

Intermission: Out of Time


The time is almost an hour before Twilight comes back to Ponyville, and fifteen minutes before the fires were started. The place is Sweet Apple Acres, shortly after Applejack opened her window and was greeted by the three visitors.

Out there in the orchard, a scene began to unfold. There, a man, a Homo sapien whose name has been lost to the fickle whimsy of time, was holding out his lantern to light his path. He was in search of something, his smelly bum's clothing slapping against his filthy, aged skin. The ground beneath his worn-out boots was kicked about as he shuffled forth.

This man, somehow untouched by time and at the same time horrifyingly ancient, followed a ghostly dog. Its astral body retained the shape it had the day it died, the day this man had lost his best and only friend.

But thanks to Dracula, this man could be with his best and only friend, forever. Forever and ever. In return, he just had to do whatever Dracula or his subordinates asked. Tonight, they asked him to search for something... a rib. He was told it might have been buried someplace, so he searched. And searched. And searched.

He enjoyed searching, This Man. His friend was very good at finding, since he only ever needed to be told what to look for. But he only listened to this man. Never any of Dracula's subordinates. Never even to Dracula himself. Only to This Man, because This Man is his best and only friend.

The Ghostly Dog and This Man together trudged, their feet scritching and scratching against the dirt as they searched for the rib. Some distance behind them, a pale woman, another Homo sapien seemingly untouched by time (although young and pretty instead of old and gnarled like This Man), walked in impatient silence.

Her slim hips swayed attractively as she went along, ghostlike and quiet. Her short white hair curled about the base of her neck. She had in her hand a long, curiously crafted staff whose head was stuffed with feathers (like the plumage of her hat), and the skirt of her dark dress billowed with her movement.

The gaze of her red eyes bore a hole in the back of This Man's head. "Have you located it yet?" she asked. Her voice was deceptively sweet, colored by her slight French accent.

"Not yet," replied This Man. "But he's pretty sure it's here. I say we give him some more time."

The woman pursed her lips almost angrily. "We've been in this orchard for nearly an hour. Are you certain he can find it?"

This Man turned to greet her red eyes. She couldn't see his, for they were obscured by the shadow cast by his hat, but she could tell he was insulted by her doubt of his best and only friend. "He can find anything! Just have a little faith."

She rolled her eyes. Suddenly, the wind picked up around them. She smiled as the three were suddenly joined by a fourth.

He wore a long cloak whose ends seemed to dance about as if they were alive. Although he did not have his scythe right now, his long skinny pale arms seemed to dangle as if holding something heavy. His skeletal face was warped beyond recognition, to the point where most people would be driven mad by looking at it.

But Dracula's servants are not most people, and most people have never stared Death in the face and lived to see much else anyway.

"Good evening, Actrise," Death greeted. His voice was like a million whispers in a thousand different accents speaking over each other. Actrise had discovered one day long ago that they, these whispers, were the voices of every person he had ever killed.

Actrise courtsied. "At your service, my lord."

"How goes the search?"

The Ghostly Dog sniffed the ground, wandering around in a circle. It began to dig. This Man grinned. "I'd say he's found it already," he said triumphantly. No one could find things like his best and only friend!

Death nodded as both he and Actrise watched the Ghostly Dog dig up its prize. As it did so, Actrise leaned in closer to whisper to Death, "Did you succeed in killing the little sorceress?"

Death chuckled, a cold and cruel and quiet noise. "When we received news that she had destroyed Dullahan, I admit I feared we had met a formidable foe. But now that I've looked into her soul, I really do not think she is a threat."

Actrise pursed her lips. "I've seen that obnoxious time traveler skulking about. He seems interested in her as well. Enough that he went out of his way to trouble our Chronomage to give her escape."

Death scoffed. "That matters quite little, Actrise. The time traveler is wasting his efforts. She is young. Naive. Easily scared. It is true she has much power, but without the guidance of the goddesses of this land, she is as lost as any of its other inhabitants."

Actrise nodded nonchalantly. "For all our sakes, I hope you are correct."

Death looked at Actrise, damning her with his red, glowing eyes. "Who are you to speak to me in such a way?" he hissed.

Actrise's cold, corpselike lips curved mischievously. "One who stared at you when she was very small, and was never once afraid of you." She stared at him, as a full-grown woman now, never once afraid of him, and dared him to reprimand her again. Instead, Death had a better idea.

"If that sorceress were to make a nuisance of herself, it would take another sorceress of equal or greater ability to thwart her. Don't you agree, Actrise?"

"You flatter me, my lord. It would be my great honor." She looked at his cloak a little more closely now, and noticed something was nestled inside. A victim.

"A new addition, my lord?"

Death chuckled as he looked down to the skin he held at where his hip would have been. On it was a mighty Tiger super-imposed over a lavish red Cross. "Yes," he said chillingly, "I find it a very... handsome part of these creatures. All these ponies seem to have an emblem of some kind on their flanks. So instead of their voices, I shall merely collect these."

His sharp gaze caught Actrise's stare as his voice became stern. "I want that sorceress' mark in my hands if she interferes, and I want you to put it there. Do you understand?"

Actrise nodded as the Ghostly Dog uncovered a bleach-white object. "As you wish, my lord."

The Ghostly Dog lifted its head and howled to the moon, proclaiming its mission a success.


The time is once again now. The place is Roseluck's apartment. It is dark, and there is a sound outside like Tartarus is devouring Ponyville.

Before her, Roseluck lights a single candle. Her apartment is bare, the furniture pushed to every door, in front of every window. She even shoved a few chairs in the fireplace to block it. The sounds of violence and screams and fire and insanity is outside, battling to come inside.

In front of the candle is a plate. On it is a rose. A white rose. Roseluck always loved the taste of white roses, creamy with a tongue-lapping aftertaste. Not too show-offy with its flavoring, and not too overpowering in its texture. The perfect last meal before her end.

Roseluck is unsure if Celestia can hear her now, but she prays anyway. She asks her goddess to light the path of her spirit as it leaves her body in its journey to the World Beyond. Asks her to protect Roseluck's friends who’d managed to get away. Asks her to forgive every stupid, selfish thing silly Roseluck has done.

The furniture begins to shake as the beasts outside pound her walls. Roseluck finishes her prayer and opens her eyes, staring at the candle before her—at the solemn, single light in her apartment. Another wall-rattling pound. She begins to laugh at her own misfortune while the white rose melts in her mouth. It all seems so amusing.

Her eyes go to the letter she spent the last half-hour writing. It sits atop the table, next to her. It is four pages long, telling whoever may read it that she is grateful for the short life she was able to live, how much she loves her beautiful friends, and how she hopes they will succeed in life in ways she has not.

Of course, if the fires spread to this apartment building, nopony is going to read it anyway, but she figures it was worth the effort in either case.

As she swallows her rose, her final meal, she hears the glass from a window shatter. The sounds of the violence outside become louder as she swallows. She sighs. The white rose tasted wonderful.

Finally, furniture gets knocked over. Monsters begin to jump and crawl through her windows. She looks up to greet them and smiles. These monsters are merely doing the only thing they understand to do—to destroy—and Roseluck understands completely. She sits at her table patiently, awaiting her end, unafraid to begin her walk to the Great Beyond, to be guided by Celestia's hoof to her final resting place.

She closes her eyes, and in her heart whispers a farewell to Daisy and Lily.

She feels a rhythmic tremor in the ground, and opens her eyes in time to see what was causing it and jump as far back as she can.


The time is a few minutes after the Ghostly Dog had dug up the rib, a little under ten minutes before the fires started. The place, once again, is Sweet Apple Acres.

Dirt Nap had spent the past hour escaping the horde of zombies that attacked his house. Seeking refuge, he came here to Sweet Apple Acres. To be perfectly honest, he's always hated the Apples. Out of everypony here in Ponyville, this family seemed to hate him the most. He could see it in their eyes. He'd been the one to bury the two parents, and they looked at him as if it were his fault they'd died. He would look at their Granny Smith, and they would realize he will have to bury her too, and very soon. It scares them. They hate him for it, for his talent, for his purpose—and for what he is, he hates them right back.

But here in this orchard, he can hide. He used to climb trees in his youth, the last time he was actually happy. He would often sleep in them, his best and only friend curled up in his lap. So that was his plan: to spend the night in a tree here in this orchard where the walking dead wouldn't find him.

He came across our previous scene with This Man, the Ghostly Dog, Actrise, and Death. He watched, enchanted. He had never seen a Homo sapien before, let alone more than one at once. He jumped when the robed figure suddenly popped into existence next to the female Homo sapien. He watched the dog dig up a bone and howl. He watched This Man throw him a treat to reward him. The bone floated up and out of the ground and into the female Homo sapien's hand. Was she the Homo sapien equivalent to a unicorn?

Dirt Nap found her scary, but at the same time beautiful. Like a white rose, she was. So delicate, but she obviously had her thorns.

Suddenly, the Ghostly Dog looked up in Dirt Nap's direction and began to bark.

"What?" asked This Man. "Is there someone there?"

Dirt Nap tried to turn and run, only to be cut off by the tall, robed figure, and found it was much scarier up close. The face had been crushed by some invisible alien force, with eye sockets here and there, a mouth that just hung open (far too open) for no reason, and those two slivers there were possibly nostrils... Dirt Nap blinked once or twice.

They shared some silence, Death staring at Dirt Nap, who while surprised at being caught so easily was unafraid of him.


The time is a little bit before Roseluck starts writing her four-page long farewell to the world, an hour after the fires started. The place is the streets of Ponyville.

Pinkie Pie ran through the streets, like she has since all this started. She already managed to save quite a few of the villagers, including her friends the Cakes. She had already saved both the mare and stallion from before, and was already successful in rounding up as many survivors as she could. Against her wishes, many of them decided to stay behind to "buy her time." She hated such a way of thinking, but there was little time for argument.

Her group of rescued survivors had grown, either way. Several mares, stallions, and foals followed her now, to safety at Ponyville Hospital. "It's just up ahead, everypony!" she called behind her.

As Roseluck put her pen to the paper and began to write her farewells, something erupted behind Pinkie Pie. She stopped immediately and turned to greet the horrible noise.

There, crawling through the flames that lapped about the village, came a creature larger than the others. A pair of long and intimidating horns portruded from its brow, with tiny glowing red eyes just beneath them. Dark, dank, matted fur covered its entire frame, projecting a stench that could strip paint. It carried itself along with enormous legs that could level a house. Its nostrils flared as it caught sight of Pinkie's group, and it roared once more.

Before Pinkie could shout directions, the Behemoth began to charge.


Twilight had not yet reached Ponyville. Applejack had left her house a few minutes ago, going into her orchard. It was less than ten minutes before the fires started.

Dirt Nap and Death stared each other down. It impressed Death that Dirt Nap was merely surprised, but not scared. He couldn't taste any real fear in this one. Just... emptiness.

Cold, delicious emptiness.

Actrise could feel it too, just by looking at Dirt Nap. There was a palpable sense of loneliness in him, of despairing alienation. The other ponies merely shunned him. The more benevolent ones thought him strange, while others vandalized his property and tormented him as often as once a week. The lonely nights he'd spend drinking himself into a stupor. The day he received that mark on his flanks—when he discovered his talent—when he buried his dead pet cat: the day he buried his best and only friend.

She walked toward him, the bone still in her hand. Her red eyes met his beady browns. She was ghostly—enchanting, this white rose. He was in her grasp. She could taste him. Feel him.

"You... are unafraid of the specter of Death?" she asked.

After a few awkward seconds, Dirt Nap finally formed an answer. "I've been surrounded by Death since I was very young."

At this, Death chuckled. Cold, delicious emptiness.

"I understand your pain," Actrise told Dirt Nap. "How it has grown within you. How this world, in all its pretend-kindness, has hurt you. In a culture where friendship and harmony are cornerstones of their societal structure, no one has ever stopped to share any of it with you. They consider you beneath them, for reasons that are out of your control. Is this not true?"

"... It is true."

"You have no friends, despite your want for their love. Despite everything you have done for them—giving their loved ones proper burials, taking care of their dead, doing things for them that they have not the heart or stomach to do themselves—despite all you have done for them, they spit in your face because you are different from them. You are not one of theirs. Is this not true?"

"...It is true."

Actrise's face was inches from Dirt Nap's. He fought the urge to lean in and meet her lips with his, the same way he fought the urge to do the same thing to a choice few of the mares he'd buried. They weren't his to have, he'd remind himself constantly; and neither was this white rose before him now. Her red eyes carried more sympathy than maliciousness, her voice was soft and soothing as a loving mother's. And the more he stared, and the more he listened, the more enchanted he became with her.

"All because of the very thing that makes you special. All because of your purpose. But who gave you that purpose? Fate?"

Dirt Nap had no answer.

"Was it your goddess, the Princess Celestia? Did she decide you be stuck with a purpose no one wanted, to become someone no one wanted?"

He couldn't answer that, either.

"These people, these ponies, have abandoned you because your goddess abandoned you first. She saw fit to give you a talent that would leave you unhappy. The world has conspired against you. They have cast you aside, your society and goddess both."

She... she understood. Dirt Nap suddenly wanted to cry. Her words struck his heartstrings like deft hooves on a harp, playing the song he'd been singing his whole life.

"It is true," he said. "I... I'm lonely. This world has given me no real purpose. It has cast me aside!"

Actrise smiled like a mother whose son had succeeded at something extravagant. "There is a way to rectify this situation."

Dirt Nap knelt before her, this white rose. His eyes were wide, and were met by hers. "Tell me, what do I need to do?"

Actrise held out her hand. Her fingers were slender, bone white. They were like tiny dove wings at the end of her arms. "Join us," she cooed. "Join Dracula. Help us to gather his pieces." She held out the bone the Ghostly Dog had dug up. "Help us revive our lord.

"You can be accepted, loved by him. You are an outcast, just like the rest of us. You belong with us. We belong with you."

This Man and the Ghostly Dog watched as Actrise made her pitch. The dog looked up at its master, wondering if This Man recognized this speech as nearly verbatim the one used to convert him. It had been many, many years, so the Ghostly Dog was certain he didn't remember.

Dirt Nap slowly came to his decision.

He reached out his hoof, and took Actrise's hand. "We belong," he said.

Suddenly, there was a quiet sound from behind. The Ghostly Dog shot up and turned around. But before it could do very much, there was the color orange and a sudden blow to its head. A pair of hooves came down on its stomach, shattering the Ghostly Dog completely.


Ponyville, while Roseluck is writing her last letter.

The Behemoth thundered through the street, knocking over lampposts and other fixtures as if they were clumsily-placed toys. Pinkie Pie tried to keep her group together as the Behemoth gave chase, but it proved difficult to keep a panicking small crowd under control.

Finally, Pinkie Pie had an idea. She took aside the stallion from before, the one with intelligent chocolate eyes.

"Listen!" she said quickly. "I want you to take them to the hospital, I'm going to distract this thing!"

"But—"

"No time! Don't argue!"

And with that, Pinkie Pie dashed toward the Behemoth, whose eyes widened in surprise as this pink pony shot in front of him. The two both came to a halt, Pinkie Pie not wanting to harm it (still haunted by the fact that killing those flea-creatures was so easy for her), and the Behemoth not expecting someone to just jump in front of it.

She tried to distract it by telling him one of her favorite jokes—the one about leprechauns in the church—but the Behemoth apparently didn't get it. In fact, the joke only made it angry. As it began to chase her, Pinkie assumed it had a lot of friends who were leprechauns and was just really sensitive to the material.

"I didn't mean it!" she said. "It's just a joke, don't take it the wrong way!"

However, the distraction worked, and she began to lead the Behemoth away from the survivors. Now the only thing left to do was figure out a way to ditch the big guy. She figured the only way to keep it from harming others was to lead it out of Ponyville, so she darted for the town limits, careful to make sure she was still being chased.

Suddenly, a streak of many colors shot through the night sky and crashed into the Behemoth's head. Pinkie Pie saw it happen before she heard any sound, and when the sound came, it rocked the world around her, becoming a skull-shaking vibration afterward.

The Behemoth fell backward, a large, bloody dent on its head, its neck twisted and broken. It landed on its haunches, then fell to its side, dead. The earth shook under Pinkie's hooves as it hit the ground.

For a few seconds, Pinkie Pie was speechless... soundless... thoughtless. Time seemed to stop, the same way it does when something horrible happens. Suddenly, she felt something land next to her, a voice talking about... something, sounded like a question. It took a quick tap to her shoulder to bring Pinkie Pie back to reality.

"You OK, Pinks?" asked Rainbow Dash. Pinkie Pie looked at her, and began to cry. Her normally-poofy mane and tail flattened with a mournful sound.

"...You... You killed it."

Rainbow Dash looked at the Behemoth's body, then to Pinkie Pie. Her face was solemn. "Yes. I did. But if I didn't ,it would have trampled you."

"You didn't have to kill it, Dashie."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?!"

Pinkie Pie then did something Rainbow Dash didn't expect: she shoved Rainbow Dash, the same way a bully might shove a small foal.

"We've fought bad guys before, Dashie! We’ve had to get rough! But we never... we never killed anypony before!"

"Look, I didn't mean to just..."

Pinkie then held onto Rainbow Dash, crying into her chest. As the fires danced about them, trampling the town with their graceful steps to the melody of smoke and ash, Rainbow Dash could only hear Pinkie's sobs and feel her friend's body shake.

Suddenly, amidst all this chaos, there was a sound. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie looked up in surprise.

The Behemoth, neck broken and head dented, had gotten back up. It howled and charged.


Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight was halfway there to Ponyville, and Applejack had discovered the intruders in her orchard. It was five minutes before the fires started.

This Man howled in panic and despair at the sight of the Ghostly Dog's demise. He looked at its killer with chilling hatred. His lantern's glow became hellish, and it sparked as his hate for this orange creature increased.

He lifted the lantern, intending on releasing his hatred in the form of hellfire, but before that could happen, the orange creature had shot up and forward—fast as a demon—and slammed the lantern into This Man. It burst, spilling its oil and hellfire all over him. He screamed as the fire gobbled up his body greedily, and as his body burned, his dying thoughts turned to his best and only friend.

Actrise looked at this scene and pursed her lips. She lifted up her staff, but as she did so, Applejack rushed her. Death let out a cackle—that sound of desperate braying of farm animals being slaughtered—as Applejack dashed right by Actrise, and into the orchard, running away as fast as her legs could carry her.

Dirt Nap looked in the direction of Applejack's escape, bewildered. He'd never seen this filly do such a thing before. Behind him, he heard Actrise let out a disgruntled shout.

"Th-The rib! That pony stole it!"

Death turned around and began to walk away. (Maybe it counted as walking; it was difficult for Dirt Nap to tell.) "Then retrieve it. It should be no problem for a sorceress of your caliber."

Such a nonchalant reaction put Actrise into a passion. "She just stole a piece of Dracula's body! Does that not require your involvement?!"

"There are other pieces," Death whispered. "I shan't be diverting so much focus on obtaining just one." With that, Death disappeared, merely blinking out of reality as though he never really existed at all.

Actrise growled in frustration. "Insipid specter! Thinks he can do whatever he wants..."

Dirt Nap had an idea. "My lady," he said, bowing before her, "I'll go retrieve the rib."

Actrise looked at her new soldier, and a sly smile spread across her lips. "Of course you will, my servant. But first, you will need to overpower the thief. She is strong and fast as a bolt of lightning. To combat her, you will need a strength she does not possess."

At that, Actrise lifted his hoof, taking it into her dove-wing hands. She drew blood from her finger, then pricked Dirt Nap's hoof with a needle. She inscribed, on his hoof, a symbol, using both his blood and her own. While she did so, she chanted words that Dirt Nap had never heard before, and the wind picked up as the dark clouds became darker and the twisted moon above twisted even more.

Suddenly, Dirt Nap felt a voice. He didn't hear it. He felt it.

Who has awakened me?

"Tell him your name," Actrise instructed.

"Dirt Nap," he said.

Dirt Nap... you require my service? What do you hope to accomplish?

He thought about it. Thought over why he had pledged himself to this white rose and her master.

"I must serve the Lord Dracula. To do this, I need power."

An insidious chuckle stroked Dirt Nap's spine. Strangely, Dirt Nap felt it comforting as opposed to alien, like a lover coming onto him.

Power you shall receive, Dirt Nap, servant of the Lord Dracula. But know this: your life is now forfeit to me. In the event of your death, your soul shall be my next meal. Do you understand?

Dirt Nap nodded. "I understand, and I accept. Grant me your power!"

Suddenly, he became enveloped in hellfire. At first, Dirt Nap was startled, and thought he was going to die the same way This Man did. But the fire did not hurt. It was like being caressed by millions of tiny, gentle hooves, stroking every part of his body tenderly. It was like being held close to his mother's warm body as she told him stories of heroes and wizards. It was like napping in a tree as a child with his pet cat curled up with him.

Dirt Nap began to laugh as he felt the gentle fire giving him an energy he'd never felt before. All the foals that had pushed him around suddenly became his prey. All the eyes that looked at him disdainfully now became afraid of him, genuinely afraid to question his place in the world. All the mocking words whispered about him behind his back became whispers of fear. Dirt Nap had finally been given something he'd wanted his whole life: power. Power to strike his own path in life, power to strike down those who tormented him, power to dominate.

Ponyville was out of time, for that was when the fires started.


The burning streets of Ponyville. Roseluck was about to eat her last meal.

Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash were both attempting to escape the Behemoth as it charged and roared. It proved much more difficult than either had expected, as it seemed to be able to teleport around every corner. Nowhere was safe from the Behemoth.

Rainbow Dash then had an idea.

She was always the daredevil out of all her friends, never afraid of anything (or at least doing a great job of pretending to never be afraid), so she was always practicing her stunts. She had developed a stunt months ago in which she would fly toward a wall, then suddenly shoot upwards at a perfect ninety-degree angle, losing no speed at all. In fact, she had perfected it: she named it the "Corner Shot."

She grabbed her pink friend. "Dashie, what are you doing?!" she asked.

"Corner Shot!" Rainbow Dash said.

She aimed for the nearest building. It had zombies swarming about, crawling in through windows on the first floor. Behind them, the Behemoth picked up its speed, trampling all the zombies and other monsters in its path. It roared as its quarry attempted their escape.

Thirty feet shortened to ten, then from ten to one. In a single instant, just before Rainbow Dash would have slammed into the wall killing her and Pinkie Pie both, she shot upward into the night sky. Below them, the Behemoth attempted to stop, but was not nearly so adept at stuntwork as its enemy.

With a shuddering crash, the Behemoth had knocked down the wall, bringing the entire second and third floors down onto its back, crushing it. All the windows on the building had shattered from the impact, and the zombies had been crushed by the fallen rubble.

Rainbow Dash lowered herself and Pinkie Pie downwards to survey the damage. She looked at Pinkie Pie to see her frowning, reluctant to see such merciless agony inflicted on even an enemy. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you don't like this, Pinkie, but—"

"It's necessary," Pinkie Pie said in a deflated tone as they gently landed. "We don't like it but it's necessary. It's what my father would tell me about having to do things I don't like."

Pinkie suddenly felt a knot in her knee. That must mean...

Her ears perked up as she heard a noise from inside the building. She dashed off into the rubble, Rainbow Dash calling after her. Using her Pinkie Sense, she quickly located the source of the sound. Digging through some of the rubble, she found a familiar pony—dirty and hurt, but alive.

"Rosie!" Pinkie Pie shouted.


The time, finally, is once again now.

Twilight Sparkle had come across a group of survivors who told her they were on their way to the Hospital. They took the little filly she'd been carrying with her, along with Shatterstorm. She asked them if they'd seen Spike, only to receive news that they hadn't. They had, however, met Pinkie Pie, whom she was told was trying to distract a huge monster away from them.

Twilight had to save her friends. The villagers were mostly accounted for, thanks to her friends' efforts, but now it is time to go and save the heroes.

She gallops off to the Library, which thankfully is not in the vicinity of the burning area of town. This area is, however, overrun with zombies and wild animals. The Library itself is silent; no lights on. Either Spike is still asleep through all this, or he is playing it smart and trying not to draw any attention to his hiding place. Whatever the case is, Twilight manages to sneak by the shambling dead and teleport inside her Library.

Inside, it is dark. The sudden noise of the teleportation spell seems to wake up movement in the Library for one second. Furniture has been moved to the windows to block any entrance attempts by the zombies outside. If this were any other situation, the furniture being moved from their proper places would give Twilight a migraine.

"Spike!" Twilight calls quietly into the dark. "Spike, are you in here?! Please tell me you're OK!"

"Twilight?"

From around the corner, Spike walks out with a pot on his head and wearing a pillow around his waist. He looks up at her with his wide and childish eyes, with this look as if he didn't expect to ever see her again. He turns his head to look into the room behind him. "Guys, it's Twilight! She made it back OK!"

Twilight walks into the room Spike guides her into. Inside, Sweetie Belle is huddled close to her sister, and Applejack runs toward Twilight with a smile on her face. The air escapes Twilight's lungs as her cowgirl friend wraps her in a tight bearhug.

"Thank Celestia y'made it!" Applejack cried.

Twilight returns the hug as best she can and turns to Spike, who stands near the sisters. They are strangely quiet, especially Sweetie Belle. "What happened? What's going on?"

At this, Applejack removes from her hat a strange bone. Twilight picks the bone out of Applejack's hooves in her magenta aura, looking it over from every angle. Analyzing it. “I’ve seen a few of these before,” she says. “It’s too long to be a pony’s rib-bone, but not dense enough to be a minotaur’s, and it isn’t hollow like a griffon’s.”

Twilight frowns. “It’d belong to something else, a Homo sapien perhaps. There were plenty of these in that Castle that appeared in Canterlot...” She looks to Applejack. “Where did you get this?”

"It's like this," Applejack said. "Some creepy fellas Ah never seen before were diggin' up this bone in my orchard. Said sum'n' about, how they were tryin'na put their 'Lord Dracula' back together. So Ah jumped in an' nicked it off 'em, an' ran back to my house. Ah git my fam'ly up an' runnin' outta the house 'cuz Ah knew fer sure those goons were gunna 'ttack it. Ah was right. So I tried splittin' us up, Big Mac takes Apple Bloom an' Granny Smith t'safety, an' Ah try t'git this thing as far outta dodge as Ah could."

Twilight looks back to the bone. There is an unholy weight to it—not physical, but spiritual. Holding it makes her feel dizzy and empty inside. "This thing... gives me the creeps," she says flatly.

"I don't mean to sound rude, darling," Rarity says quietly so as to not disturb Sweetie Belle, "but it is a bone. It used to belong to someone."

"Yes... but who?"

"Ah reckon it's a piece'a their 'Lord Dracula'. If he's got anythin' t'do wi'that Castle what appeared, then he's bad news."

As they discussed, Spike hears a sound outside. Looking out a crack between the window and the dresser blocking it, he sees something that alarms him.

"Guys!" he shouts. "We gotta run!"

Twilight looks up at Spike, startled by the spooked tone of his voice. Sweetie Belle whimpers as Rarity puts her up on her back. Spike jumps atop Twilight. "What's happening, Spike?!" she asks quickly.

"No time to explain! Just teleport us outta here, NOW!!!"

There's a loud whistling sound outside as Twilight concentrated her magic on teleporting everypony outside the Library. The familiar feeling of tumbling outside and then inside reality, then a pop. They are all outside now, and the Library is burning.

Before Twilight can ask what happened, she hears a piercing laughter. It sounds mad. Insane. Above the smoke of the Library is a large, burning monstrosity with long horns and longer arms with even longer claws. Its entire body is made of fire, and its eyes are piercingly hollow. Attached to it is a pony, walking through the flames, laughing as they wrap around him. The flames don’t seem to harm him at all.

He stops some ways in front of the group and looks at them with a cruel smirk and haunting eyes.

He holds out his hoof. "Give me the rib," commands Dirt Nap.