It took nearly all afternoon for the three of them to calm down the mail pony, as well to get him warmed up again. For a while, the white pegasus was near hysterical. Crying off and on, glancing at both ends of the fireplace hallway, as if dreading to see someone appear. The director, meanwhile, had already made up his mind to film an interview with Way Finder once he was stable enough to carry a full conversation without bursting into tears. Iris and scroll were able to drag in a now table from another room in order to have the camera be stable enough to point at the mail carrier.
“Mr. Finder?” Oatberg asked, “Are you ready to talk about what happened to you in here?”
The white stallion adjusted the blanket that was wrapped around him. He looked at the tiny microphone that was clasped to the fabric. “I… I think so. Yeah, I’m ready now.”
Oatberg pressed a button from the camera; a red recording light glowed as the director leaned forward. With one last glance at his microphone, he said, “Mr. Way Finder, let’s start this off by asking, how is a mail pony like yourself been able to get inside of Harriet Hollow?”
He gulped, “I was out making a delivery towards Neighagra Falls when I got lost in the blizzard. That was odd because my special talent is to be able to know exactly where I was going, I mean, you could have put a blindfold on me and I’ll still be able to figure out. However, with the combination of the winds getting me off course and the snow that was hitting me in the face; I couldn’t see where I was going. And it was so cold too. I have never seen a blizzard like this before where the winds were so bitter and the snow so confusing that, in short, I lost my way.
“It had gotten so bad to the point where I needed shelter so I could wait for the storm out. For a while, I couldn’t see anything except for the outline of this place. I spotted the huge mansion that seemed promising for me to escape from the winds so I flew up to one of the balconies and banged on the windows to let me in. However, it was dark so I went to the next one, and the next in hopes of seeing if anypony was home. Only it didn’t seem that way. I was about to leave until I spotted that one of the doors of the balcony was wide open, swaying there in the wind. So I bolted right in, closing the doors behind me.”
“What floor were you on?”
The mail pegasus shrugged, “The fifth floor I guess? All I know is that I went inside a bedroom that was covered in a layer of dust. Like the place had been abandoned for years or something. Of course, I called out to see if anyone was home because, technically, I am trespassing for a good reason. Even when I got out of that room and called down a hallway, there was still no one around. And since this place looks abandoned and there was a blizzard outside, I thought that I might as well have a look around while I wait. And I can tell you that I got lost pretty fast.”
“How come you stayed in the house? Didn’t you try any of the balcony doors or the windows?”
He snorted, “Don’t you think that was the first thing I tried? I mean, I tried smashing several with a hammer I found lying around, but the thing is, these windows can’t break! No matter how hard I hit them, or what kind of windows they were, or even the ways I tried to get through, not one had so much as a crack on them. I couldn’t get any of them to shatter like they’re made out of see-through metal. Even prying them open didn’t do anything like all of them are sealed shut.”
“Funny,” Oatberg muttered. “We had the exact same problem.”
“Then I thought about trying to go downstairs to see if there’s a door to the outside,” Way Finder continued. “But this place… I don’t know how to describe it, because this is more than just a maze. Mazes for me are easy to navigate through. But here, it keeps on changing all the time with no rhyme or reason. Like stairs that are half finished that doesn’t lead to anywhere except a wall. I also saw an upside-down ballroom where the chairs and decorations are nailed to the ceiling. And even a hallway that has no corners that weave around like a snake. But that’s all worst at night.”
All three ponies looked at one another, “Why’s that?” the director inquired.
“That’s when they come out.” Way Finder replied as the blanket shifted again. “I keep hearing hoofsteps that were coming from the walls, a full-blown argument that when I went to find its source to find nopony there. And even whispers that sounded like they’re coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. That’s how it started at first…” A sniff was heard before he continued. “Then I keep seeing these… shadow ponies everywhere.”
Oatberg tilted his head, “Shadow ponies?”
The pegasus nodded, “In the day, I keep seeing silhouettes, some of them are stallions, others mares, and even foals too. They are everywhere. And they kept following me. Sometimes I see them at the end of the room, but most of the time they come right up to my face. It’s… It’s as if they knew I wasn’t welcomed here.”
“But I don’t understand why you’re afraid of shadows.”
“They touched me,” Finder replied. “I felt them touch me. Heck, I was shoved by a few and…” He looked over his shoulder. “And I saw some of them carrying crossbows. Chasing me from room to room, floor to floor as they fire bolts at me. Yesterday I had spent hours trying to hide and outrun them, I think I’m being hunted you see.
“But the worst is at night.”
“Why? What happens at night?”
The mail pony took in a few deep breaths. “I know, what I’m going to say sounds really, really crazy. But every word I’m about to say is the truth… this house, this place, is alive. Don’t give me that look! I’ll swear to Celestia’s mother or whatever divine entity there is that I’m telling the truth!”
No pony spoke a word in that pause until Lost Scroll leaned over the director’s ear, “Sir, a word?”
“Not yet,” Oatberg told him before turning back to the mail pony. “Could you clarify what you mean by the house being alive?”
“How long have both of you been in here?” Way Finder inquired.
Iris tapped her hoof to her chin in thought. “Three days, I think.”
“Tell me I’m not the only one that’s noticed this. Have any of you ever wondered how come this room appeared or that hallway disappeared, finding nothing but a wall in place when there wasn’t one? Or how stairs you just came down don’t exist by the time you come back to it? Or how you’ve noticed that certain windows were put in place that you haven’t seen before? I could go on, walking in circles, finding entire floors missing, coming back to an unfinished room only to find it completed. Hallways that take five minutes walking down towards the other side, or seeing the same thirteen doors again and again – don’ t any of you get it by now? This place is alive.”
“Sir, a word,” Scroll asked sternly.
With a sigh, Oatberg called “Cut” for them to take a rest from the interview while the film crew goes out of earshot of Way Finder. However, the mail pony begged them not to leave him, so as a compromise, the promised that they would only go to the far end of the hallway of fire while they whispered to one another.
“Sir,” Lost Scroll began. “I can’t in good consciousness consider this guy as credible.”
“Why not?” The director asked.
“First of all, this guy’s story is full of holes. I mean, indestructible windows? Ghosts? And a house that practically builds itself? If that latter claim were remotely true, then this house should be a whole lot bigger than it was in 922. Plus, all that crap about ghosts?”
“Wait a sec,” Iris raised a hoof. “If you don’t believe in ghosts, then what are you doing here anyway?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Scroll deadpanned. “I’m here for research purposes, writing, and a needed outside perspective with a critical eye.”
“He’s right,” Oatberg whispered. “It’s why I hired him to begin with. For in a way, he’s like a detective when it comes to history. He tries to find stuff that doesn’t make sense from written records, and come here to find any answers that the physical location provides.”
“Okay, but let’s get back on topic,” Iris looked over to see the mail pony was still where they left him. Staring at them, “So what are we gonna do with him now?”
“I think the stallion has either suffered a mental breakdown or has cracked from getting lost in this place. Leaving him here is out of the question, but at the time, I don’t know if he won’t be stable enough to not attack us. Still, I do feel bad about letting him fend for himself.”
“How about this?” Oatberg suggested. “Once we find our way back to the foyer, we’ll go back into town to have him taken care of. Then we return to the house for our exploration. Besides, if we do so, then we’ll get more supplies since we’re really underestimated the mansion.”
Iris folded her forelegs, “Alright fine. But I think it would be a good idea to keep him around. Chances are, he might recognize something that we don’t. It could give us a clue where to go from here.”
The three of them agreed. They returned to the frightened pegasus and told him that they decided to take him downstairs so they could take him to a nearby town. Way Finder was more than willing to offer his help.
Hours later, thanks to finding a skylight in the floor, the camera crew plus the mail pony managed to find their way down to the second floor. But after leaving the warmth of the hallway of fire, they returned to the numbingly cold of the house with stomachs demanding food. All the while, Way Finder was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting to see something emerge from the shadowy rooms.
“Is it getting dark already?” Way Finder asks. “What time is it anyway?”
The director looked at his watch, “It’s almost six. Hopefully, we might find some stairs around here.”
“I do really hope to find that we can get to the foyer,” Iris grumbled. “A can of tomato soup sounds amazing right now.”
“I wouldn’t care if I was served up a bowl of soggy toilet paper,” Lost Scroll added, looking at the copy of the map. “I think there might be a flight of stairs nearby.”
A few minutes of walking through the maze later, Oatberg’s ears picked up on something, “Hey, everypony stop for a second.” The crew asked what for, “Do any of you hear that?”
All four ponies listened in for a second, their ears scanning back and forth. “Hear what?” Iris inquired.
Way Finder leaned his head against one of the wooden posts and froze. “Oh Goddesses… it’s them.” Before anyone could ask what, the answer became manifested as they hear the sound of voices coming from the other end of the hall. None of them could make out what they were saying as it was muffled, but the angry cadences and multiple shouting sounded like a full blown argument going on. As the four of them slowly drew closer to the source, violent curses and threats were becoming clearer. They only stopped when they heard somepony begging.
“Guys! Put those down! W-We can still talk about this! Just give me some more ti-”
“We’ve waited long enough,” another, colder voice replied before the film crew plus the mail pony heard several clicking sounds.
“No! Wait! Don-” Then that voice was cut short as suddenly the door and wall had arrows penetrates through. The film crew screamed as black arrows came out, making the four of them flee for cover. Galloping down the hallway as some of the arrows seemed to chase after them, and a few had even hit their saddle bags. Once they were out of the barrage firing range, the arrows soon stopped. But not one of them dared to so much as poking their heads out to see if the coast was clear. They listened for any change, but it was all silent except for the wind outside. Finally, Scroll took out a sheet of paper and held it out, waving about to see if anything would happen. But nothing did.
The four of them cautiously looked out into the hallway where some of the arrows have landed. They reentered it towards the end of it where the door still had many arrows that hadn’t gone through, stuck in the wood. Oatberg reached out a hoof to turn the doorknob to reveal a destroyed kitchen where the glass had been shattered from its cabinets and arrows impaled the door, walls and even the floor. Yet, what was odd about it was there was a large spot near the door that was about the size of a body.
But that wasn’t even the strangest part. As Scroll pointed out, “You guys, there’s only one door in here… So how did they get out?” It was true. This kitchen had only one door for anypony to go in or out.
Iris picked up one of the arrows in her aura, taking a closer look to see that these were not only real, but each one had the same patented cast iron arrowhead with the initials of “H. R. C. C.”
“Harriet Repeating Crossbow Company,” she muttered. “Where did these arrows come from?”
“More importantly,” the director asked, “Who was shooting at who?”
“Don’t any of you see,” Way Finder picked up one of the arrows. “This, right here, is absolute proof of what I have been talking about! There are ghosts here that are armed! We just nearly got killed back there because something was shooting at something else.”
“There has to be some… reasonable explanation,” Scroll began but was cut off by the mail pegasus.
“Like what!? The oven has crossbows? The pantry has arrows? There aren’t any windows for Celestia’s sake! Don’t you see?” He waved his hoof around the room that has been shot at. “Regardless of what you think, we are in danger. The longer any of us stay here, the likelier we’ll get hurt. And after what we saw, I suggest you start believing in ghost stories now. Because we’re in one.”