The moon outside was just past full, filling the party room with its soft effulgence. Such pale light suppressed color, rather than enhancing it. The assorted party goers were visible only as shades of gray. Absolutely perfect for a Nightmare Night party.
Standing by herself, near the table laden with cobwebbed snacks was a lovely mare who was new to me. I drifted through the throng (actually there were only about ten of us there), to her side.
I smiled, though that is unsettling to some, and asked her, “So, who are you and what brings you here to the Haunted Manse?”
She startled just a little when I spoke. Common enough among the new arrivals. Her brow wrinkled prettily as she thought. “I am Nemmie. I am not sure how I got here, really. I mean, I went to the old Crawfeather Mansion on a bet. You know, the usual, ‘Bet that you can’t spend the whole Nightmare Night in the haunted ruin of Crafeather.’ That bet.”
I took a bottle and poured her a mug. Mist flowed from the bottle and into the mug, which sort of overflowed with the mist.
She took the mug, admiring the effect. “Lovely. Is it safe to drink?”
I nodded. “It is safe. Drink up. So, you arrived here how long ago?”
“It will sound silly, but I am not sure. I would have thought that it would be coming on daylight soon but it looks just as dark as when I got here.”
Gesturing at the old Grandfather clock with its dead still pendulum, I suggested, “Take a look at the clock.”
She turned her head to the clock. The hands swept silently about the face and stopped at 11:47. “That is odd. Why did it stop there?”
I took my turn staring at the clock. The silent hands swept about to 1:36.
We were interrupted by several pale, nearly invisible, yellow lights held by indistinct forms that passed through the room. The far door creaked a bit on its hinges and they were gone.
I returned to my question, “So, why did you decide to stay here?”
Troubled, she replied, “I never decided to stay here. My brother Smallgreed dared me to spend the night in the haunted mansion on Nightmare Night. That’s all.”
“I see. Tell me, what would he gain by your absence?”
Her eyes widened. “Father’s will! They are reading it on the second!” She put a dainty hoof to the back of her head. The blood looked black in the pale moonlight. Realization dawned.
In a sick voice, she asked, “What now? Do I just haunt this place?”
The door creaked again and the pale lights started into the large room. She pointed and asked, “What are those?”
I replied, “Candles in the hooves of the living. Do you recognize any of them?”
Rage giving her clear focus, she screamed, “MURDERER!” The word started low, almost bone shakingly low, and rose to an ear piercing shriek!
I gave Chance and Canter the high sign. Doors slammed shut! The candles all went out! Perhaps Luna was helping us because the Moon went behind a cloud, plunging the place into total darkness!
The screams of the living were music to my ears!
Nemmie, Smallgreed’s sis, was having so much fun!
Of course the town Police Ponies were drawn by the bloodcurdling screams. Being nothing if not civic minded, Chance and Canter let the doors open for them.
The police removed the horrified and shivering Smallgreed, his two accomplices, and Nemmie’s corpse.