The Last Known Writing of SkelePone (Felix Aberg)

I was given Felix's laptop. On it, and in his Google Drive, I found previously unpublished chapters for his most popular stories. These were the last pieces of writing that Felix ever did. I have a theory that he died the very night he wrote these that I am about to show you.

The first piece is shorter. It was titled "The Crazies" so I assume it's the intro for the next chapter of the story.

Dear Diary,

I’m leaving the hospital tonight. Screwball and Screwloose are coming for me and we’re leaving together. Maybe for only a few days, maybe forever. I don’t know.

Screwball came to my room yesterday. She had asked for my help. Can you believe it? Screwball, the byproduct of Discord and chaotic energy running rampant, asking me, a simple stallion with a skin condition, to help her escape? It’s unbelievable! At first, I thought she had been joking, you know? Screwball’s notorious here at the hospital for pranking ponies. Not to mention her odd and often distasteful sense of humor.

But she had explained it all to me. How I could show them a way out, how I’d map it out. And then at midnight they would come and get me.

The next one is almost complete. I say almost because it seems to cut off almost.

Vicuña didn’t like it.

Something felt wrong with how the wind blew, something felt wrong with how Celestia’s sunlight shone on the grassy field before him. Vicuña knew that it was spirits; the invisible forces of life and nature were pushing him, pestering him. Something was terribly wrong, and Vicuña didn’t like it.

The shaman tugged his cloak around him, shivering in a cold that wasn’t really there. Something was afoot, and Vicuña was going to find out what it was. Without Poncho.

Vicuña respected their leader. Poncho was strong-willed, stubborn, and even a bit cocky at times. The best qualities a llama could ask of an authority figure. And yet Vicuña didn’t really like Poncho. The russet llama was charming and talented in music. Qualities that could attract the attention of even, say, a certain lavender Alicorn princess.

Poncho had started to spend time with the Princess. Vicuña knew it was just professional. Two very different species would have to regularly discuss policies and et cetera, but Vicuña couldn’t help but feel that Poncho prancing around with Twilight wouldn’t help his odd in the least.

Vicuña decided to leave the vastly uncomfortable meadow he had been meditating in. This was getting a tad bit painful. Maybe the spirits were warning him that Poncho might try steal the Princess away from him?

Vicuña felt a fire burn in his heart. No. He wasn’t going to let that tomfoolery happen.

As Vicuña turned the corner of their cottage, he spotted a familiar green llama and a suspiciously pink Earth pony mare. He squinted his eyes, straining to make out what they were saying. He didn’t want to interrupt Pepe Fouchan’s rather intense conversation with who Vicuña suspected was the Element of Laughter he had met quite some time ago. Vicuña suddenly grimaced. Wait, when did Pepe start speaking?

Before Vicuña had a chance to call out and ask Pepe, his stomach lurched as the two did the unthinkable.

They had put their muzzles together. And kissed.

And not some sweet, stereotypical peck on the lips. They were going all at it, eyes closed, mouths open. Vicuña withheld the urge to gasp. He taped one of the several amulets dangling from his neck. Vicuña physically vanished from sight. Now rendered momentarily invisible, Vicuña inched his way past the couple and into the cottage.

The shaman silently clicked the front door closed behind him. He let out a sigh of relief and reappeared into view.

“Oh, hola, Vicuña darling. Scootch over. I’m trying to get a front row seat,” whispered a raspy voice, “‘cause I want to compliment myself on a job well done.”

“Mama?!” Vicuña hissed incredulously to the elderly dam resting on the equally ancient rocking chair, “Did you have something to do with this?!”

The old llama smiled, showing several missing teeth.

“Ain’t it jus’ sweet as can be?”

“Mama! What if Poncho sees?!”

“So what if he sees? He ain’t Pepe’s padre. Poncho needs to learn that if we live with ponies, we’re gonna want to get together with ponies. After all, I can’t bear children. Bonita’s barren and a bit of a brat. And the twins are too busy sulking because they didn’t get in that fancy dancy school in Canter-whatzit. So you males only got mares to choose from.”

“W-Well… when you put it that way…” Vicuña stammered nervously. He struggled with the burst of joy and hope exploding out of his chest.

“An’ Vicky, don’t act like I ain’t seen the way you look at that Princess mare’s flank. You done raised your bars awfully high, aintcha amigo?” Mama let out a cackle of laughter.

“M-Mama I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me, Vicky,” Mama chuckled, “you’ve been blessed with the curse of being unable to properly tell a lie. An’ not even an amulet can fix that” She added as Vicuña desperately searched his dangling plethora of shimmering medallions for the proper amulet.

Vicuña grimaced.

“So you got Pepe and…”

“Pinkie Pie.”

“...Pinkie Pie together?”

“Yes I did,” Mama announced proudly.

“So… do you think you could… get me and the Princess to… you know…?” Vicuña waved a cloven hoof awkwardly between the two of them. Vicuña had expected a jolly nod of the head and maybe a magical cupid cria to pop out of thin air and enact his wishes. What he hadn’t been expecting was that she would just cackle like a witch on Nightmare Night.

“Oh… you’re funny, Vicuña, you know that?” She rasped, clutching her chest as she hooted with laughter. Vicuña felt his frown etch itself deeper into his face. With a soft, irritated mwa, Vicuña left the giggling elder to her own devices and he trotted away. He could still hear her laughing all the way upstairs in his bedroom. Ridiculous.

Vicuña let out a mwa of irritation. He hated being the object of ridicule. Especially to old senile llama dams like Mama.

I will be finishing the chapters, of course. But Felix's beginnings will remain unaltered.
Rest in Peace, Felix.