Flicker tried very hard to make sense of what was taking place. He remembered pressure on his face, a suffocating darkness, a sweet smell, and then… nothing. There was a vague memory of blood, lots of blood, and anger, so much anger. Help had come, hadn’t it? The world had become such a confusing jumble of slowed time and dulled senses. And now, he was at home, in his own bed, back inside of his family’s farmhouse in Ponyville.
His body felt very light as he got out of bed, almost as if he would float away. The wooden floorboards beneath his hooves were cool to the touch, almost pleasant, and Flicker wobbled as he got out of bed. He was home, and he was glad, because he had missed his sister, and his family. With as much quiet as he could muster, he crept for the door, not knowing what time it was, or why he was home.
His bedroom door opened into the farmhouse kitchen, and he peered around, wondering what his mother had done to the place. It seemed off somehow, as if something was amiss, but Flicker couldn’t quite put his hoof on what it was. The zebra sipping tea at the round kitchen table might have something to do with it though. She looked old, a little wrinkled, and her mane was all, what was the word again? He struggled to recall the right term—dreadlocks? Yes, her mane was all ropey dreadlocks that reached down to the floor and then some.
Very much to his alarm, the dreadlocks began writhing and wriggling like snakes, coming right for him, and in seconds, Flicker found himself grabbed by a swarm of nightmarish zebra dreadlocks. He was lifted, hauled around, and pulled right in front of the old zebra mare’s face. She was terrifying, and looking into her eyes felt a lot like dying. Yet, she had a pleasant smile, full of life.
Hᴇʟʟᴏ Fʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀ… ʙᴇᴇɴ ʙᴜsʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?
The sound of her voice made his ears feel strange, as if they might leap off his head at any second and flutter away like birds. Still held in her dreadlocks, which had coiled and curled around his various extremities, Flicker asked what he felt was a very relevant question for his situation.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my mother’s kitchen?”
The old zebra mare chuckled, reached out her hoof, and booped Flicker on the nose. For a second, he felt his heart stop at her touch, but then when his heart started beating again, he felt so very much alive. Her eyes were an impossible colour to describe, it was the colour of a million years of soul crushing sorrow, and one year of intense joy. The closest that Flicker could come was the mess of colour when his sister glooped all of her watercolour paints together in one spot. He had never quite understood art.
I ᴀᴍ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s ᴋɪᴛᴄʜᴇɴ.
Flicker’s ears bobbed; there was a strange, sibilant hiss to the sound of her spoken ‘eses.’ A natural skeptic, Flicker resisted this new information, that this zebra mare was somehow Death. He accepted that this might be a dream, as the evidence suggested that it might be. Being held in zebra dreadlock tentacles was pretty convincing for a dream-like environment.
“Who are you really? I don’t think I’m dead, so why would Death come to visit me?” Reaching for cold, unfeeling logic, his best and most practical ally, Flicker added, “I think you’re the burrito, come to haunt me. All those beans, Doctor Sterling is always warning me about what I eat.”
I ᴀᴍ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀɴ ᴏғ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʏᴘᴇ. Iɴ ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ, I ᴀᴍ Lɪᴍᴀ Mᴀʜᴀʀᴀɢᴇ. Iɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ, I ᴀᴍ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ Lɪᴍᴀ Bᴇᴀɴ. Aɴᴅ ʏᴇs, I ᴀᴍ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ.
Confused, Flicker shook his head. “Why would Death be known as Lima Bean?”
Nᴏᴘᴏɴʏ ʟɪᴋᴇs Lɪᴍᴀ Bᴇᴀɴs.
Well, that was a stunningly logical reply and Flicker had trouble countering that. The zebra mare’s dreadlocks were cradling him now, holding him like a foal before her, and he felt a bit naked and vulnerable, though he could not say why. This was a dream, and the zebra was probably Princess Luna, or one of her devoted minions come to test him, so it was best to just go along with it.
“So, uh, Miss Lima Bean, what brings you here to me?” Flicker asked, not knowing the proper way to address the equinification of death. Or in this case, the zebrafication? This was difficult, and complicated. Flicker had no idea of what Doctor Sterling might do in this situation. He felt that he was a little bit closer to locating the great state of confusion on a map.
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʀᴀᴛ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ.
“A rat problem?” Flicker had never contracted with a supernatural entity before, and he was intrigued. That was, of course, assuming that this was real.
I ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ sᴛᴜᴛᴛᴇʀ.
Death had the ultimate deadpan, Flicker discovered. He relaxed a little as some of her dreadlocks were now stroking his back and his neck. It was soothing, and felt rather good, but also made him feel sleepy. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m in the rat exterminating business.”
I ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
This was starting to feel awkward and Flicker felt a keen sensation that he wasn’t smart enough to deal with this properly. “Well, what can I do to help you?”
Sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ, I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ Gʀᴏɢᴀʀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ. Hᴇ’s ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴛs ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ, ʀᴀᴛs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴜʀᴘ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Oᴛʜᴇʀs. Tʜɪs I ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ. Hᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪs ᴅᴇᴀᴅ, I’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ. I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ I ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʟɪғᴇ.
“I see.”
Nᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ. Aɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪғ I sʜᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ.
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. What can I do? I’m just a pony, and this sounds like it is complicated afterlife stuff that I don’t understand.”
Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴏɴʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴀᴛ sʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ. I ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ʀᴀᴛs. Iᴛ ɪs ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴠᴇʀʏ sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ. Iɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ, ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇs ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Cᴇʟᴇsᴛɪᴀ’s sᴜɴ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ sʜɪɴᴇ, Gʀᴏɢᴀʀ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅs ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴛɪɴɢᴜɪsʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. Hᴇ ʜᴀs ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ ᴘᴇsᴛɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀs ʜɪs ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ I ʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, I ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪɴ. Sɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ ʜᴀs ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ ᴘᴇsᴛɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, I ᴀᴍ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘɪᴏɴ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʜɪᴍ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀᴛ sᴛᴀᴋᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴀᴍ ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ, ᴀs ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ.
“So, there are a bunch of rats that I guess should be dead, and aren’t, and I guess I am supposed to act as some sort of repossession agent? Look, I’m just trying to understand what is going on. You need to be clear with me and just come right out and say things. I don’t deal well with metaphor or cryptical riddles.”
Gʀᴏɢᴀʀ ʙᴜɪʟᴅs ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴍʏ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʀᴏʙʙɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍs. I ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. Iɴ ᴇxᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ, ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ sᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, I ᴡɪʟʟ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ʙᴏᴏɴs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏʙ ᴇᴀsɪᴇʀ. Aʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪs ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇɴᴇғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀsʜɪᴘ. Yᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ, ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ᴍʏ ʀᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴏɴ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ.
“I’m okay with this,” Flicker said, feeling okay with this.
Wᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴇᴀsɪᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ I ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ. Wʜᴇɴ Wᴇ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴘɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘɪᴏɴs, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Tᴀʀɴɪsʜᴇᴅ Tᴇᴀᴘᴏᴛ ʀᴇsɪsᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀs sɪɴᴄᴇ ғᴀʟʟᴇɴ ɪɴ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Oᴜʀ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛs. Tᴡɪʟɪɢʜᴛ Sᴘᴀʀᴋʟᴇ, sʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ-ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ. I ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴍʏ sᴡᴀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇ ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏʙᴇʏs ᴏʀᴅᴇʀs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ. I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴʏᴘᴏɴʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ sᴍᴀʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛ ᴛʜɪs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴀɪɴ.
“All I have to do is kill rats and I get super powers?”
Exᴀᴄᴛʟʏ. Tʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴇxᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ʟɪᴋᴇ. I ᴀᴅᴍɪʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ sɪᴍᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴅʜᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ Oʀᴅᴇʀ. I ᴀᴍ Oʀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ sᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ. Oʙᴇʏ ᴍᴇ, ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴍʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ, Fʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀ.
“Well, I was going to kill rats anyway, so this is no big hassle. Just don’t ask me to do anything bad to my fellow ponies and everything will be copacetic.” Flicker couldn’t see the harm in agreeing, if this was a dream, no harm would come. If this was real somehow, he saw only gain. So, what did he have to lose?
Sᴏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇɴᴇғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ. Aʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ, I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏɴ. Yᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ, Pɪᴘɪɴɢ Hᴏᴛ Pɪᴇ, sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʙɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴛs sᴡᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ. Sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ɪɴ ɪɴᴄᴜʀᴀʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀᴍ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇɴɪɴɢᴇᴀʟ ᴘʟᴀɢᴜᴇ ɪɴ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʏs ᴛɪᴍᴇ. Sʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴡ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ. Sᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, Fʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙᴇʏ.
“Piper was bit?” Flicker felt an almost painful sense of worry and he knew what had happened. Sometimes, when using magic to control the rats, they went beserk and swarmed. Flicker had seen it a few times with candles. Swarming was bad, and the phenomenon remained unexplained as to why it happened.
Sʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ.
Flicker felt relieved, but also a little confused, as he still wasn’t sure what he was dealing with. This was something beyond the scope of his understanding, but he did understand what was at stake. He didn’t want life to end, his sister’s life most of all. Or Piper’s, for that matter, as he was already attached to her and held fond feelings for her.
Rᴇᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʟᴇɴ sᴏᴜʟs ᴏғ ʀᴀᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ.
“Okay.” Much to Flicker’s alarm, he saw the old zebra mare leaning in, and her wrinkled lips were puckered. Uh oh, he didn’t like where this was going. Muscles tensing, he cringed, and thought about his intense dislike of lima beans for some reason. When her lips touched his nose, there was a burning sensation like no other and Flicker squirmed from the pain. The kiss was like being touched by a branding iron, somehow made worse by the fact that he had just been smooched by wrinkly, sagging old-pony lips. Ick.
Wᴇ sʜᴀʟʟ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, Fʟɪᴄᴋᴇʀ, ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ ʀᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴏɴ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ. Rᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs sᴛᴏʟᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ. Cᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Pɪᴘɪɴɢ Hᴏᴛ Pɪᴇ, ғᴏʀ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs. I ʟᴏᴏᴋ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ.
The hospital bed was somewhat uncomfortable and Flicker was both far too cold and far too warm at the same time. His limbs were freezing, but his barrel felt as though it was on fire. There was a throbbing ache in his ribs and the sounds of bandages crinkling made his ears twitch. Much to his surprise, Hennessy was beside his bed.
“You had a muscle in your side, it was damaged, and when you ran, it tore completely.” Hennessy leaned in a little closer. “They just did some surgery to put things right. You okay, Flicker?”
“I’m fine.” Flicker marvelled at how scratchy his voice was.
“There was a swarm, Flicker, and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen… the rats went all mad all of a sudden and they started attacking everypony after you ran off. Piper got chewed up pretty good. She’s in the room right next door. Doctor Sterling saved everypony and right now, he’s looking after Piper.”
The door opened and a pale yellow unicorn mare entered. Flicker could see the worry upon her face as she approached his bedside. After a second, she moved away, and he could hear the sound of water and ice sloshing together. Water sounded wonderful, as he was really thirsty.
“I hit the call nurse button when I saw your eyelids a fluttering,” Hennessy said in a soft voice.
“Care for some water, Flicker?” the nurse asked. “My name is Pastel Peony. If there is anything you want, just ask.”
The nurse loomed large in his vision as she returned to his bedside and Flicker felt the end of a straw press up against his lips. After fumbling around a few times, he got his lips around the straw and started drinking. The ice water felt good to the parched flesh of his throat. As he lay there, flat on his back and drinking, the door to his room banged open.
“Aye, Lad, yer awake. I thought I was gonna ‘ave me a stroke from worry!”
“Keep your voice down, Mister Chandler,” Pastel said, making a gentle demand of the blustery pony that had just come bursting in.
“Bloody shut it! I’m worried about one of my own!” Mister Chandler made his way to Flicker’s bedside and stood there, looking down, while Flicker looked up. “Aye, yer a sorry sight, Lad.” His voice now lowered, Wicked blinked a few times while his worried expression intensified. “I’m gonna send ye ‘ome, Lad, as soon as yer fit to travel. I’ve already sent a telegram to your mother and yer father. Piper and ‘Ennessy will be going with you. You’ve earned a bit of downtime, Lad. Ye need to be well if yer gonna be able to do this job.”
The straw fell away from Flicker’s lips. “Will Piper be okay?”
“Aye, Lad, she’ll be fine. She got chewed on a bit, but it’s not too bad. Not as bad as I am, any’ow.” Wicked shuffled around on his hooves and his brass capped wooden leg clicked against the tile floor. “Yer mother is a right good mare for agreeing to look after ye lot. I’m going to pay her for her 'ospice work.”
With a sigh, Flicker thought of his mother, Twister Tracker, and his father, Buckeye Conker, or as they called one another, Twisty and Conk. It would be nice to see them again, and he had thought about going home. The thought was soothing for some reason, and he missed Knick-Knack.
“I want to go home,” Flicker said in a dry, scratchy voice. “When can I leave?”
“As soon as your doctor clears you,” the nurse replied, “but for right now, you need to stay for observation. You had a troubling reaction to the anesthetic, your heart stopped for quite some time. You seem to be okay now, but all of us were very worried.”