Filthy Rich woke with a start. He rubbed his eyes, then looked around the room. He had already woke twice during the night, a fact he decided to acknowledge. "Might as well finish some paperwork..." he grumbled as he rolled out of bed.
He dressed himself in a suit previously laid out and then made his way downstairs to his office. Sitting at his desk, he arranged a few papers before him then reached for a coffee mug he always kept full of ink-pens. But the mug wasn't there. It wasn't on his desk at all.
"That is strange." He muttered "Where are my pens?"
Something moved into his field of view. Rich looked up, and saw his mug full of ink-pens floating in the air about a foot before him. A fog-like black mist coiled and weaved around the mug. As he watched the mug began to sink through the mist, soon to alight gnetly on his desk.
"Your pens, Mr.Rich..." said a voice in the darkness.
Rich knew that voice. It belonged to the Dark Pony. He was fairly certain why he was being paid this visit.
"For Celestia's sake, I hired the girl as you instructed!" He leaned back in his chair, his right hoof thumping the desk-top. "I should be the one worried, if she fails I stand to lose a lot of money!"
"She won't fail." the Dark Pony replied.
"And how can you be so sure of that?" Filthy Rich retorted.
"Because!" the Dark Pony stopped himself, considering his words carefully. "Because...she is special."
"Special?" Rich replied, incredulity evident in his voice. "What is that even supposed to mean?"
The Dark Pony did not speak for a moment. Rich could see his outline within the darkness before him. He seemed to be swaying a bit, Rich thought, as if weary from some great effort.
"I didn't realize spirits could get tired." Rich said, probing.
The Dark Pony ignored his question. "I need you to do something," He said, his gaze suddenly intent, displaying purpose. Rich waited before him, remaining quiet. "Something important..."
"No! enough of this." Rich shot back, interrupting the Dark Pony. "I have done enough!" His voice was stern, and he hoped that would be sufficient to free him of this conversation.
However, the Dark Pony only smiled. He stared at Rich for a moment, and then delivered his terms.
"Tell me Rich, wouldn't it be nice...to be able to sleep? Uninterrupted?" The Pony paused again, his smile widening to show just a hint of the teeth behind it. "Do this for me, and I will release you. Your dreams will be your own again."
Rich stared at the Dark Pony for a moment, with a glare he hoped properly displayd his displeasure. Ultimately he decided to keep playing the Pony's game.
"Alright," He said, his voice agitated, "What is it you want?"
"Just a bit of legwork, Mr.Rich." the Dark Pony replied.
"Legwork?" Rich asked. "What is that supposed..."
the Dark Pony interrupted him. "Yes, a bit of legwork, and your associate Gladmane will help."
Immediately Rich heard a knock from the front door of the building. The Dark Pony smiled. "Right on time!" he said, obviously pleased with himself.
Rich heard the outer door open, followed shortly by the door to his office. Gladmane stepped through, as if summoned by magic.
"You should've locked your doors." The stallion commented. "Keep the riff-raff out." He paused, looking over the Dark Pony. Gladmane gestured with his head. "Not that it would have mattered for him."
Rich nodded in agreement. "He does just seem to appear when and where he wants."
"Benefit of the realm." the Dark Pony replied, his voice soft, yet laced with...something dark, Rich thought.
Gladmane again looked at the creature from the shadows. "Have you told him yet?"
"No." the Dark Pony replied. "I first wanted to be sure you appropriated those particular items I requested."
Gladmane reached into a saddlebag strapped to his side. He rummaged inside for a moment, then tossed two items onto the desk before Filthy RIch. One landed with a loud thump.
Rich looked down at them. One was a crowbar, the other a black facial mask. He looked up at the Dark Pony.
"What am I expected to do with these?"
"Breaking and entering, Rich." Gladmane huffed, the contempt evident in his voice. "Are all rich guys this dumb?"
"Mr.Rich." the Dark Pony softly moaned, "Put on the mask."
Rich looked between the two of them. The Dark Pony just stood there, that menancing smile still gracing his features. Gladmane grunted, then pulled a like mask over his head then he glared at Rich.
Rich knew what he was up against. Or at least he thought he knew, so again he acquiesced and donned the mask. Rising, he followed the two outside.
Night shrouded the city, and shadows ruled. Backing into one, the Dark Pony looked at Gladmane and stated simply: "I must go." Rich thought he saw a plume of black smoke suddenly appear to engulf the gloomy figure, but regardless, like a wraith the Dark Pony was gone.
Rich looked at Gladmane. "Do you want to explain this?"
Gladmane grunted again. "What's to explain? Come on."
With that he turned and began walking down the lane, in the direction which lead out of town. Filthy Rich followed.
"We are going to Pocornia's house." The stallion tossed back.
"Why?" Rich asked. True, Rich had designs on that particular house, but now wasn't the appropriate time. However Gladmane wasn't concerned with that.
"Because that thing told us to!" He snapped. "Just keep moving."
For some time the two of traveled in silence, walking the path which lead away from Ponyville. Much plaqued Rich mentally, however he thought discretion the better part of valor and kept his thought to himself. As they walked his associate kept looking up at the sky, where the stars seemed to dance with an oddly shaped cresent moon.
"What time do you think it is?" Gladmane suddenly asked.
"Slightly before dawn, I would guess." Rich replied.
"If we are going to get this done, we need to get in and out fast." Gladmane stated.
"And what exactly are we supposed to do?" Rich asked, annoyed at having to ask.
Gladmane glanced back at him. "He told me...that somewhere in her house is a chest filled with bits. He wants us to steal it."
The would wolve much, Rich mused. Still, the thought of simply stealing his way to Poconria's finicial demise did cause him pause. He would rather drai her of funds over time, the old fashion way. He glanced at the stars himself, contemplating the unspoken reason which would justify simple robbery. The Dark Pony had its reasons, he was sure. However Gladmane had one of his own.
"After this, that creature should leave us alone." Rich noticed Gladmane was yawning as he spoke. He wondered, so he asked.
"Have your dreams been off of late, my friend?"
Gladmane nodded. "Yeah. I keep seeing a forest, but it looks unnatural."
"What is so unnatural about a forest?" Rich asked.
Gladmane continued to walk in silence for a few moments. Then he turned and looked down at Filthy Rich. The moment was unsettling to Rich, as Gladmane was twice his size. Howeverhis partner in crime appeared to bare no...current...malice.
"It was pink and purple, and twisted. I know that may sound pretty, but it isn't. It was all...scary, somehow."
Rich chuckled. "What would a stallion of your size be afraid of?" He asked.
"Not the forest!" Gladmane replied quickly. "But something in it..." Gladmane answered, his voice trailing off.
Rich remained quiet, allowing his associate time. He noticed Gladmane looked up at the stars again. Evnetually he continued.
"Something was in that forest, something big, fast, and deadly. I have never seen anything like it."
"Did you get a good look at it?" Rich asked.
"No." Gladmane replied. "I mean kind of." His voice had gone soft, as if fear gripped him. Rich did not doubt that. But suddenly Gladmane pointed ahead.
"Doesn't matter." He said. "Pocornia's cabin is just over there."
Rich looked. Sure enough, he saw the cabin a short distance away, its outline highlighting in the starlight. The two approached, moving toward a side window. No lights shown inside. Rich took out his crowbar and leveraged the window open. The two climbed through, finding themselves in the main living room.
"Did he tell you where the chest was?" he asked Gladmane.
"No." was Gladmane's instant reply.
The two stood in the middle of the living room for a few moents, looking about for any sign of their objective item. Finding nothing of note, the two decided to split their effots. Gladmane went upstairs while Rich went into the kitchen.
Again Rich saw nothing of note, nothing out of the ordinary, so he began pilfering through the cabinants. Five minutes of rummaging around yielded no results. Equally fruitless was a search of the pantry. Rich sighed, then moved to look out the one kitchen window. There he saw Pocornia's wagon parked outside. Filthy Rich stepped outside, up to the wagon, attempting to search the contents of the wagon while leacing no apparent sign anyone had done so. again he found nothing, no chest or any sign of one. He had to fight his natural instinct to simply trash everything before him, as what he was engaged in was, technically...A crime. However his mood grew more sour as the time passed by.
A few moments later he heard Gladmane leave the house and approach. "You find it?" Rich asked, without looking at his partner in crime.
"No." The big stallion replied. "If it is here, she has hidden it quite well."
"I hope you left everything the way you found it. We don't want her to know we were here."
"I aint stupid, Rich." Gladmane shot back. "Place is a wreck anyway, not like she would notice."
Rich turned to look at him. "We can't be obvious, I have..."
Rich stood like a statue, his mouth now agape, his eyes locked not on Gladmane, but something which now appeared to be firmly attached to his shoulder. It was brown, laced with red, had needle like hair, and eight legs. Even in the darkness of the night Rich could clearly see its fangs bared and prepared to strike.
"Gladmane!" he shouted, but at that same moment the spider struck, burying its fangs deep into the stallion's neck. Gladmane howled in pain, lurching sideways in reaction before rearing on his hind legs and flaiing at his neck with his front hooves. Rich moved quickly forward to strike the spider himself, but as he did so Gladmane tumbled to the ground. IN the blink of an eye the spider was gone, moving, Rich thought, back toward the house.
Defending his territory.
Gladmane floundered around, attempting to regain his footing. "What the hell?" he blurted out.
"A spider, Gladmane, a large one. To me it looked like a Phoneutria." Filthy Rich stated in a almost academic fashion.
Gladmane stood, glancing quickly about him, then to the house and back to Rich. "Which means what?"
"Which means we need to get you back to town and to a hospital." Rich answered.
Gladmane's nostrils suddenly flared. "Not before I go back in there and kill that thing!"
"That is a passion you can not indulge." A voice called out, a voice Filthy Rich was now only too familiar with. A voice from the darness. A voice from the grave.
Gladmane jumped again, startled by the sudden appearaence of the Dark Pony. Both he and Rich instinctively moved aside each other, then stood facing the shape in the moonlight.
"What do you mean?" Gladmane wailed. "That thing bit me!"
"and it will bite you again, if you go back inside." The Dark Pony stated mater-of-factly. "You must go, now."
"But we havn't..." Rich stated, but the shadow in the darkness cut him off.
"I know you did not find what you were looking for, but there is no more time. Others are coming."
Both Rich and Gladmane stood for a moment, then looked at each other. Finally Gladmane muttered "I don't feel so good..."
"Come on," Rich replied, "I will get you to the hospital." However before moving Rich looked at the Dark Pony one more time. All he really saw was a set of eyes staring back at him, eyes in the dark. But eyes lit with purpose.
"What now?" Rich asked. He wasn't sure he really wanted to hear the answer.
"Take your friend and go, he can not die tonight." The Dark Pony replied. But there was no sympathy in his voice, only certainity. "I will visit you again, when I have further need of you."
Rich decided not to arque. In his world, the wealth Rich controlled granted him both prestige and power. But at the moment he wasn't in his world. At the moment he was in the world of the Dark Pony. and there, Rich was smart enough to know he wielded no power at all.
He moved forward and began to help Gladmane back to town.
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Octavia, Photo Finish, and Songbird Serenade stood just inside a tree line which crested a small rise. Below them in the distance sat Pocornia's cabin, across the main road nestled amid a few trees. The three had slipped out of town about two hours prior, and had utilized side paths to remain unseen while approaching their objective. The idea had been to present themsleves to Pocornia and essentially demand she talk with them about...current events. However no one appeared to be home. Indeed from their location it appeared no one had been at home for some time.
Songbird huffed. "You had me tramp all the way through these woods just so we could see Pocornia wasn't home?"
Octavia shook her head. Songbird wasn't used to roughing things, and had complained almost constantly during the trip.
"Do you want to help Pocornia or not?"
Songbird gave her a sideways look. "Of course. I just don't understand why we have to be so secretive about it."
"Because of that thing." Photo quickly interjected. "If he was following us through the woods, who knows what beast he could have trying to run us over."
The three stood silent for a moment, staring at the house. Photo was correct, Octavia thought, drwaing the attention of that Dark Pony porbably wasn't in their best interest. But then she also understood Songbird's objections. If he really wanted to find them, prowling through the woods probably wouldn't be much of a deterrent. Still, they were here. Might as well see it through.
"Lets go." Octavia said, beginning to move down the slope.
When they reached the road the trio bore to the right, approaching the path leading up to the cabin. It would be dawn soon, Octavia knew, but at the moment the area remained bathed in darkness. Little noise could be heard, the woodland creatures apparently still dormant. Or just staying away, Octavia mused. They moved to the path, but as Octavia and Photo turned toward the house, Songbird stopped. The two paused to look back at her, seeing her attention focused on the road leading away.
"What is it, Songbird?" Octavia asked.
Songbird gestured with her hoof. "Look at this."
The two approached and stood aside her. Octavia looked but couldn't see anything unusal before them. Yet Songbird's expression was quite intent, as if she were searching for, or interpreting something.
"What are we looking at, Songbird?" Octavia prompted.
Her friend gestured again, toward the ground before her. "Look, the tracks, there, and there. They are drag marks."
The two glanced at her. "How do you know that?" Photo asked.
"Have you ever seen what Roadies do? I know a drag mark when I see one. Something heavy was pulled from the path onto this road." She moved forward a few steps, still examining the ground before her. About ten yards away she stopped, turning to look at them.
"It was a mare, or more likely a stallion. Right about here he stood up and began to walk under his own power. Someone else was with him." Songbird explained.
"I didn't know you were so worldly, Songbird." Octavia commented.
"I wasn't always a pop star. Plus there is more to the trade than just being cute."
"I suppose so." Octaiva replied.
The three stood for a moment, Photo glancing about and fiddling with her new camera. Songbird then moved a bit farther down that road. Her bangs hung low as she studied the ground around her. Then Octavia saw her smile. "What?"
Songbird looked at her. "There were two of them. I think I know who one of them was."
"How would you know that?" Photo asked.
"Look at how deep some of these tracks are." Songbird replied. "One of them was very large."
She looked at Octavia. "I am going to follow this trail, try to confirm my suspicions."
Octavia considered that for a moment. Even given the sun would soon rise, she didn't feel comfortable allowing Songbird to travel back to town by herself. Given the recent events in Phillydelphia, remaining a group seemed more practicable.
"You sure you will be alright, by yourself?" Octavia asked of her famous friend.
"Yeah," Photo interjected, "What if, you know..."
Songbird smiled again. "We all learned different lessons from our trip to the city I guess. Don't worry, I will be fine." She turned her head and whistled softly. In response two stallions stepped from the tree-line behind them. Octavia looked, but somehow wasn't surprised. It was Songbird's persnoal security team, complete with defense harnesses. They stepped up to their employer, but said nothing.
Photo had a look on her face of sheer awe. "Where did you guys come from?"
"I had them follow us." Songbird said. "Pretty good, huh? They hardly made a sound!"
"Yeah..." Photo added.
"You should have known." Songbird stated flatly. "I want to help Pocornia, but blast if I want to get killed doing it."
Made sense, Octavia thought. "Okay." she said. "You will follow the trail. Would be good to know who was here before us, I suppose. She gestured at Photo Finish. "Photo and I will check the cabin."
"Don't take too long." Songbird warned. "When you get back to town find me. We will compare notes."
She and her bodyguards stood silent for a moment, then Songbird quipped "Get it? Compare notes?" The two security stallions broke out with large, spreading smiles.
Octavia just stred, but Photo grunted. "Songbird, not even I would make a joke that bad."
"Heh heh." Songbird replied. "Yes you would."
With that the three turned and moved off along the road before them. Octavia and Photo watched until they passed from view, then looked at each other.
Octavia sighed. "Lets go." she said "See if we can find any sign of Pocornia."
"Okay" was photo's only reply.
They approached the house. The area had the look of disuse, or perhaps inattention. The cottage remained dark within, Octavia spying no hint anyone was home. As they grew nearer the air seemed to chill and the ambient noise dropped until the only sound she could hear was the sound of their footsteps. Photo again fiddled with her camera.
"No, no pictures." Octavia said. "We don't want the flash."
That seemed to make Photo nervous, but it couldn't be helped, Octavia knew. Songbird's prescience aside, a certain level of danger still haunted them. It was funny, but it wasn't, Octavia thought, her current emotions concerning the Dark Pony. For some reason she couldn't really explain, if he were to make an appearance, Octavia knew she no longer physically feared him. Perhaps in the dream world, in his territory, with its toads and werewolves and inherent madness, but here...here she had power. Here she could put up a fight. Not that she was looking for one, but if it came, well, then so be it. They didn't say friendship was magic for notihng.
Friendship has a power of its own, she thought. If that wasn't true, neither of them would be here.
They found the front door unlocked. Stepping inside, the two entered the main living area. Photo and Octavia looked around, their mouths slowly dropping open.
The place was in shambles. With thexception of the couch the furniture was scattered everywhere, a couple of pieces broken. The curtains hung askew, and the walls had been marked with...Octavia couldn't quite tell. Fire of some kind?
"Lightning." Photo said, as if reading Octavia's mind. "They were hit with lightning!"
Photo glanced at Octavia, taking a step back toward the door behind them. "He has been here."
Photo began shaking, her head bobbing in nervous tension. "Octavia!" She said. "He has been here!"
"Photo!" Octavia snapped. "Calm down! we need to look for Pocornia!"
"No!" Photo almost shouted. "We need to leave! he has been here!"
"But he isn't here now!"
"How do you know?!" Photo wailed. Octavia could tell her friend was near panic. She had to remain firm.
"Because I know!" Octavia turned to face her friend. "Photo, Listen. In my dream, I saw him. In Phillydelphia, I saw him. But more important than that I felt him, his...essence. Who and what he is."
Photo's eyes were huge, the fear evident as she looked slightly up toward Octavia.
"It is hard to explain, but please trust me. If he were here now, I would know." She paused for a moment. "I would."
Photo looked around the room, then back at Octavia. "Okay" she said. "If you say so, Octavia."
Keep moving, Octavia thought. "Okay, you look in the kitchen, I will check upstairs."
Photo nodded "Yeah, okay." She replied. "Just be quick, I want to get out of here."
Octavia nodded. "Be right back."
Photo turned to move toward the kitchen as Octavia turned to move toward the stairs. The light of dawn should have been visible by now, and yet the huse seemed darker, Octavia thought, than when they had first stepped inside. Gloom now surrounded her, followed by a gust of air, icy cold. She saw her breath hang in the air. A board creaked to her right, but when she turneed all she saw was headstones. She was back in the graveyard.
By the princess, she thought, how could I have been so wrong. He was here, and had tricked her in an instant. She felt her anger surge as she looked all about for her oppressor. But all she saw was the Toad.
"I always knew you were coming." It said.
"Where is he?!" Octavia shrieked, but the Toad did not answer. Instead, it opened its mouth and started screaming. She heard the thunder of multiple hooves beating the earth as the taod continued to scream. Something was coming for her. She was about to repeat her demand, for all the attention the Toad would pay her, but suddenly realized a new truth.
The voice. The Toad was screaming, but not in his voice. It was the voiec of another, a female voice. She knew that voice.
Photo Finsh.
Ocavia charged forward, then imeediately found herself back in the living room of Pocornia's home. Photo was there, standing just before the couch, staring at something, and screaming.
Octavia grabbed her, turning her face to face.
"Photo!" she yelled "Look at me! Look at me!"
Photo Finish's mouth remained open, but she stopped screaming. She looked up at Octavia, her eyes wide and wild, two deep pools of terror. Her entire body shook, Octavia fighting to keep her in place.
"Naaahhhhhhh!" Photo wailed.
Octavia reinforced her grip. She couldn't let Photo go, couldn't let her run. There was no telling where the smaller pony would go, deep into the woods, farther away from town. Neither was acceptable.
"What is it, Photo?" she asked, shaking her once in an attempt to focus her attention. "Listen to me, what happened?"
Photo looked up at her. "Don't you see?" she asked, her eyes still wild. "The couch...look at the couch..."
Octavia held her gaze for a moment. Photo had closed her eyes and dropped her head. A low wailing moan began to issue from deep inside. Octavia did as directed, turning her head to the left. Shock, horror and adrenaline instantly slammed through her body. What she saw clearly explained Photo's terror, but she also knew what she saw made no sense.
The body of a stallion lay sprawled on the couch, its white hair stained red with blood from a plethora of cutting wounds. Its mouth hung open, its eyes wide in death, a look of both pain and trauma reflected on its face. Whoever it was had died a gruesome, frightful, and violent death. As if to add insult to that hideous injury, a large spider sat on the arm of the couch, just about the slain stallion's head.
Photo conintued to weep as Octavia starred at the macabre scene before her. Reason told her she should be as terrified as her friend, but instict gave her pause. None of this made any sense.
She had looked the couch over when the two entered th house. If there had been a dead stallion sprawled there, she would have seen it then. Yet she didin't. Then there were Songbird's tracks. Deep tracks, something heavy having been dragged to make them. And the spider. That was Pocornia's spider, large and ugly to be sure, but no where near capable of having done this. And neither could have Pocornia. She knew that, knew it in her soul.
Photo was crying. "Octavia?" she murmured.
"Photo, listen to me...this isn't real."
"It isn't supposed to be wike this...Octavia. The smaller pony again looked up at her, tears flowing from her eyes. "Equestria isn't suppowsed to be wike dis..."
The two stood still for a moment, staring into eachothers eyes. Octavia knew Photo was correct.
"Why?" Photo asked, sobbing "Why would Pocornia do dis?"
"Pocornia didn't do this, Photo." Octavia answered. "Pocornia didn't do this."
Photo sniffed, tears still streaming from her eyes. "Then who did?"
Octavia released her grip on her friend. She glanced at the couch again, the horrid scene unchanged. She thought she knew who the staillion was supposed to be, but no longer believed he was really there.
"This isn't real, Photo." She stated firmly. "This is all just meant to scare us."
"Not wreal?" Photo asked softly. "What do you..."
Octavia cut her off. "Its him, the Dark Pony. He is in our heads." she looked all around the room again, then back to Photo Finish. "He is using our...dreams, somehow. He want's to scare us away from Pocornia.
Photo kept crying, refusing to look back at the couch. Octavia however did, and noticed the spider was gone.
"I wanna' go howm, Octavia." Photo said. "I wanna go howm..."
Octavia surveyed the room one more time. The stallion still occupied the couch, but seemed dimiisnehd somehow. The Dark Pony wasn't here, but then neither was Pocornia. Only one thing left to do, Octavia thought.
"Come on, Photo." she said, gently pulling her friend toward the dor. "I will take you home. I will stay with you."
Photo looked at Octavia, hope now reflected in her eyes.
"I will stay with you." Octavia gently repeated.
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Afterwards, The Dark Pony stood at the front door of the cabin, watching the pair tro down the patch and onto the road leading back toward town. It was regrettable, he thought, that Octavia could not see him now. The smile on his face was very broad indeed.