//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Supernatural // Story: Bright Winter Nights // by InlustriusGhost //------------------------------// Big Mac jolted awake in a cold sweat early the next morning. His heart throbbed in his chest as he felt as though he was getting his first breath of air after hours of suffocating. He sat in his bed, gasping while he wiped his forehead with a fetlock. Sweet Elysium...What a nightmare… Big Mac thought as he tried to recall his dream. Already, the details started to ebb away from the deeper recesses of his subconscious. The only thing he could remember was being inside a dark forest, the Everfree perhaps, hearing ominous voices from all around him, and when he looked one way, he was face to face with a deathly white mare, glaring directly at him with completely blood-red eyes. The image was burned into Big Mac’s memory and it gave him a mortifying chill. He sighed heavily as he looked outside his bedroom window. It was still dark out, but the glow of dawn was approaching. However, pegasi were rolling in some freshly-powdered clouds. Another snowfall must have been scheduled. Then, came the crowing of the rooster from the henhouse. Time to get up anyhow… Big Mac yawned and stretched away his drowsiness. Waking up this early every morning wasn’t always so easy, but with the scare he received from his nightmare, he didn’t have as hard a time keeping his eyes open. He slipped out of bed, planting his hooves on the floor before starting toward the hallway to go to the bathroom. However, he didn’t get far when his hindleg suddenly got snagged and he fell forward, landing on the wood floorboards with a thud. Oof...What the hay…? Big Mac rolled over and looked down at his leg, seeing that his hoof got caught in his bedsheets. He grumbled. “...Gonna be one o’ those mornin’s…” He pulled his leg from the sheets and got it free before he stood up again. Big Mac softly stepped out of his room and carefully walked by Applebloom’s, careful not to wake her. Then, as he entered the bathroom, he noticed the temperature drop considerably. Dagnabbit...Who left the window open last night? He thought as he checked the window by the shower. Shut tight. Huh…? Big Mac scratched his chin, but remembered he still had his morning chores to get through. He turned to the sink and grabbed his toothbrush and paste before starting to brush as he did the start of every morning. Then, as his head began to wake up, Big Mac recalled the events from the day before. “Stay away from me if you think I’m so crazy and don’t bother talking to me again.” “Bright…” He frowned. After Bright went off on him and left in a huff the night before, Big Mac was sour the rest of the evening. He didn’t understand why Bright would invade his privacy and claim that he was talking to ghosts of all things. Worse than that, the ghosts of his mother and father. Maybe it was out o’ his control. Maybe he wasn’t all right in the head...Still, he coulda jus’ let me try to help him. “Stubborn colt.” Mac muttered. He’s like AJ, ‘cept he’s really hurtin’ himself. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh through his nose. I...I liked him...a lot. Maybe I still do, but...What can ya do to help somepony who doesn’t want help…? Big Mac opened his eyes back up and as he looked at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he noticed something. There was a shadow inside the shower behind the curtain, peeking out from a small crack between the curtain and the wall. Big Mac blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Then, as he peered at the reflection, focusing his vision, he saw the shadow leering back at him with bloody-red eyes… Big Mac’s heart leapt into his throat and he turned around, shoving the curtain aside, almost ripping it off its rack. ...Nothing. Just the bathtub. He gave a sigh of slight relief as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. Gotta wake up. Big Mac spat out the paste in his mouth and washed his face before heading downstairs. He grabbed a scarf and beanie to bundle up for the cold morning, then stepped outside. The land and soil was lightly powdered with frost. Definitely frigid. The freezing air slammed against Big Mac’s face and body like a plow. His first instinct was to alternate rubbing his forelegs to keep warm, but he stopped himself not a second after. He still had a responsibility to take care of. So, he cantered over to the barn, briskly, to avoid staying out too long. It was Mac’s turn this morning to let the hens out of the coop and feed them. He grabbed a bag of feed from storage and hauled it onto his back, then walked over to the chicken pen just across the farmyard. The moist earth lightly crunched under his hooves. Then, as Big Mac stepped inside the fence, the chickens started to caw and scamper inside of their coop, sounding squirrelly and distressed. Huh…? He hurried to the coop, worried that an undesirable weasel or fox found its way inside. Big Mac opened the door for the hens, but in the instant a crack allowed them to escape, they exploded out of the coop in a panicked frenzy. They were so scared that as they fled, they swarmed onto Big Mac. “Gah!!!” The chickens clawed and scratched at Big Mac with their talons to defend themselves. Big Mac was so spooked by the attack that he reared too far backwards and tumbled into a soft muddy patch in the ground. “Oof!” Then, the hens had calmed down, after the apparent danger was gone, and they laid off of him. That was when Applejack had emerged from the Apple home after hearing all the ruckus from inside. “Mac, what in the hay is goin’ on out here?” She called from the porch while putting a red sweater on. Then, as she approached the chicken pen, she saw Big Mac picking himself up from the mud patch and shaking off globs of earthy goop from his fur and his clothes. Applejack held a hoof to her mouth as she held back a snicker. “Pfft!...Y-Y’all okay, Mac? Bit o’ trouble there?” She stifled. Big Mac grumbled a bit before he walked over to the coop, still brushing off mud. He peeked inside. “Somethin’ spooked the chickens.” He answered, though he didn’t find any trace of anything considered frightening. “Ain’t nothin’ here…” Big Mac scratched his cheek in confusion before wincing at a sudden sting on his face. “Mph!” “Alright, come here. Let me see the damage.” Applejack beckoned with her hoof. “...It ain’t nothin, AJ.” He lied. She rolled her eyes. Applejack knew that Big Mac was too prideful to show whenever he was hurt or in pain. Even though he likes to think he’d seem strong for ignoring it, in her eyes, he was just being a hard-headed foal.“Aw, git yer flank over here, ya big teddy bear.” Mac sighed in exasperation and he walked out of the pen to face his sister. Applejack closely examined him. He had scratches on his cheeks, his snout, chin...just about most of the front of his body. There were very few that were actually deep enough to penetrate his thick hide, but with the dip in the mud that he took shortly after, he still had a chance of getting one of the scratches infected. “It ain’t too bad, but you should take a shower and wash all that muck off o’ ya. Granny can clean up your nicks and bandage ya up.” Applejack concluded. Big Mac was about to speak up, but he was stopped when Applejack held her hoof to his mouth. “Nnope! I ain’t hearin’ any ‘buts’ from you, Mac. I’ll feed the chickens. You get yourself clean, ya hear me?” Big Mac started a groan that quickly turned into a defeated chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’m goin’...” He hated whenever he had to let his sister pick up his slack. Sure, he would try to get away with working while injured, but only because he wanted to pull his weight in supporting the farm and the family. That and he couldn’t let his sister, the Spirit of Honesty, get all the credit. Reluctantly, Big Mac turned around and walked back into their house, wiping away any mud on his hooves at the door. Still strange though. What were the chickens so afraid of? He thought. Definitely not one o’ those mornin’s. The early afternoon that day saw another snowfall. A gentle, but chilling, wind fell over Ponyville as flakes fluttered down. Big Mac managed a content smile as he stood behind the apple stand in the market. Though he pined for clear, sunny skies, there was something soothing about light snow coupled with the whistling breeze and how the tiny ice crystals stuck to his fur only to melt away into water. Maybe it was just the rough morning that made him appreciate the calmness. While he awaited for anypony to come and purchase the usual bushel of apples, Big Mac fiddled with the bandage that was on his snout, one of a few others that Granny Smith patched onto his face. As if falling into mud and getting attacked by hens wasn’t bad enough, earlier that morning, the cart he pulled to bring the family’s stock to the stand started to rock and roll as he entered the marketplace. It felt like it was going fall apart, which was astounding to Big Mac, because the cart itself was only a few months old. Can’t believe I gotta fix the cart already. What kinda day am I havin’ today…? He brooded to himself. Big Mac couldn’t remember the last time he had such bad luck in one day. He hoped that the worst of it had already passed as he looked forward to that evening. It was his and Spike’s Guys Night and he was eager for Sir McBiggun to employ some new strategies he picked up for their O&O game. Big Mac remembered reading about some amazing feats performed by one of the main characters in the Terrastra Legends book he was reading...The same book series that Bright introduced him to. He leaned forward, legs resting on the stand and sighed. He wasn’t sure what to think of his friend...well, former friend, anymore. Part of him was still hurt and bitter about yesterday: the harsh things that were said, the lies that Bright expected him to swallow, the appalling deception. And yet, another part of him still liked Bright. He couldn’t understand why, but despite what happened, Big Mac felt as though Bright was still a good stallion: kind-hearted and compassionate, but desperately in need of snapping out of his delusion. Somepony’s gotta help him... CRACKLE… Big Mac’s ears perked. He recognized that sound. It was the sharp crackling that splitting wood makes when it was about to- SNAP! THUD! One of the corners on right side of the stand suddenly dropped half a foot, which made Big Mac stagger and the baskets of apples he had sitting on the surface toppled over. Over a dozen apples started to roll away along the dirty, slushy ground. “Aw, f-“ Big Mac started, but immediately stopped himself before he could let that expletive leave his mouth. He fumed a low disgruntled growl through his flaring nostrils. I just fixed that darn thing last week! What the hay!? He bared his teeth and scowled as he fetched for the soiled apples that he’ll now have to spoil. He tried as best as he could to keep a cool head, but so far, today’s mishaps were chipping him down to his last nerve. “Um...Big Mac?” A tiny voice beckoned to him. “What?” He answered with a harsh gruffness that made his inner exasperation plain. After he picked up another apple, he looked up at whomever was addressing him. It was Fluttershy and judging by her retreated stance and the way she shied her eyes away, hiding her muzzle within her warm green scarf and jacket, she was intimidated by him. Immediately, pangs of guilt stabbed at Mac’s heart. “I-I’m sorry...I didn’t know you were upset...I’ll just come back later…” She apologized before turning away. Land’s sake! Way to go, Macintosh! “No, wait!” He bade her to stop. If there was anypony that Big Mac would hate to upset, it was Fluttershy. She was a kind, sweet filly, hardly deserving of being the target of any lashing out. “I-I’m real sorry, Fluttershy. Jus’ havin’ a bad day is all…” “O-Oh...Are you okay?” She asked, deciding to assist Big Mac by picking up some stray apples he missed. “I’m alright...A bit frustrated, but bad luck runs out sooner ‘r later. Er...Did ya want some apples?” “No, actually, I just came to tell you...Rarity wanted to let all the Ponytones know that we’re going to have an early warm up before our performance at the Hearth’s Warming Festival. We’re going to run through all our songs.” Fluttershy explained, placing the apples in an empty basket near the lopsided stand. “We start at 4PM at Town Hall.” “Thank ya kindly, Fluttershy…” Big Mac smiled and nodded. “...and again, I’m real sorry for snappin’ at ya.” “It’s okay. I understand.” She beamed reassuringly. “Anyway, I have to go. Rarity also wanted me and the girls to try some dresses she made for us to wear to dinner tonight. I hope your luck turns around today.” “Eeyup...See ya soon.” He sighed softly, watching Fluttershy flutter away. Then, Big Mac turned back to the crooked stand and examined the leg that snapped off. It was the same one he had fixed the week before. The wood was split and splintered outwards, splayed, almost as if it burst from the inside. What in Equestria…? Big Mac scratched his ear and furrowed his brow. Maybe there was some kind of a curse on him today, like a bad case of Derpy’s Law. He breathed a deeper sigh and rubbed his temple with a hoof. He’ll have to bring his tools and some new wood later. Tomorrow, perhaps. For now, though, Big Mac would have to avoid leaning or placing anything on the stand. After his initial boil reduced to a simmer, he looked up and around the street. It was fairly light at the moment, in terms of business. The marketplace was only inhabited by the vendors and the few odd ponies needing the last few groceries for their holiday meals. Big Mac fidgeted a bit as he stood. He didn’t like watching the apple stand on days like this, standing around with nothing to do. It was an uncomfortable tick. He nickered while brushing his hooves on the ground, trying to fill the empty air while his eyes scanned for any ponies that might want apples. But then, his sights fell upon a blue unicorn. When he realized who he was looking at, Big Mac froze. His hooves were planted and his body ceased rocking. He just watched. Bright was a distance away, walking through the market alone. He was wearing his dark blue jacket and beanie, his saddle bag barely strapped to his body, almost sagging, and his head hung low as he padded along the road. He looked...tired, judging by his drooping eyelids and the slight bags beneath them. His horn was glowing, carrying a paper bag that looked like it was his lunch. Big Mac bit his lower lip. He shook his head and tried to avert his eyes away from looking at Bright, but something in the back of his mind urged him to look again. Worry? Attraction? Spite? He didn’t know for sure, but when his eyes fell on Bright the second time, Bright was looking right back at him. At first, Bright’s face was blank and it remained that way for a terribly long second before his expression soured into bitter frown, then he continued on his way without a word. Big Mac didn’t return any sort of look, but his chest and throat tightened up a bit. Something fell over him, as if he was being weighed down by something he couldn’t describe. He swore he could hear a small voice in the back of his mind whispering to him. You hurt him, Macintosh. He was your friend and you hurt him. “He lied to me. What good’s a friendship without honesty?” Big Mac muttered. He told you nothing but the truth and you know it. Is that not good enough for you? “Bright’s confused...He’s just...not right in the head.” He felt the fur on his back begin to stand on end. He trusted you with his heart’s darkest secret and you treated him like he was a freak. An icy chill trickled down his spine and he softly gasped when he realized he had been holding his breath. It was then that Big Mac identified what this sensation, this sudden feeling of his chest pressed between two heavy iron blocks, was: guilt. Even if Bright’s reasoning last night was some sort of dreamt up lie that he believed in, Big Mac listened, but he immediately dismissed it and he didn’t even consider Bright’s perspective. Big Mac sat down behind his crooked stand and thought harder. Would it have made any difference if he played along with what Bright said? He shook his head. “No. It ain’t right...I don’t want him to live a lie…” He wracked his brain for something he could have done, something he could have said that would’ve steered away from their falling out, but in the end, Big Mac knew that the damage was already done. Their friendship fell apart and there wasn’t a way to fix it. I guess...it wasn’t meant to be. Big Mac thought as he felt a restless tug at his heart. It leapt inside his chest with longing, but he only sat there, gloom looming over his head. But I wish we were. The afternoon snowfall faded away as the evening came by. Pegasi pushes the snow clouds away just before sunset, leaving warm hues of yellow, orange, and red in the clear skies above. Big Mac ambled up the pathway to Twilight’s castle, relieved to finally have some downtime with Spike and Discord after the total fiasco of a day he’s had. The one thing he wanted more than anything right now was to just get his mind off of things with an action-packed, adventure-filled session of Ogres & Oubliettes. And as he came up to the golden double doors, already did one of them open up as Spike came out to greet him. “Hey, Big Mac! You’re right on time.” He waved. “Eeyup!” Big Mac nodded. “Come on in.” Spike warmly invited, holding the door for Big Mac. “Woah. What happened to your face?” He asked, noticing the bandages from this morning. “Ain’t nothin’.” Mac avoided as he entered, not wanting to get too in detail of his unlucky day. “Aw, c’mon, big brother!” Came a familiar country twang. “Tell ‘im about yer little tussle with the chickens this mornin’.” There was Applejack with her friends, right by the door. All of them were wearing their newly-tailored dresses, courtesy of Rarity, and warm coats over them. Big Mac wore a sour face at Applejack’s teasing, but couldn’t help cracking a little smile, seeing how gorgeous his little sister was in her western-chic-styled dress. “I’m jus’ messin’ with ya, Mac.” Applejack laughed. “We won’t be back until late tonight.” Twilight reminded.” Are you sure you don’t need anything for your Guy’s Night, Spike?” “I’ll be fine, Twilight!” Spike rolled his eyes, tempted to push all the fillies out the door. “And tonight’s events are completely confidential. Only recognized guys are allowed to know.” The girls giggled to themselves at the boys’ not-so-well-kept secret before they started to leave, with Twilight staying an extra second. “Just be sure that Discord cleans up after himself this time.” She whispered to Spike. “I promise. Now, hurry up!” He almost desperately urged. “Alright alright! I’m going!” Twilight laughed, following her friends and closing the door behind her. “Ugh, finally. I thought they’d never leave!” Spike groaned. “But now, Guy’s Night can officially begin!” “Eeyup!” Big Mac heartily chimed. “It’s Guy’s Night!” “Eeyup!” “Oh, yeah!” “Eeyup!” “Havin’ fun now!” “Eeyup!” “Oh, yeah!” “Oh, yeah!” The two gleefully chanted as they bumped their rumps and chests against each other. Then, there was a honking of a tiny horn that sounded in the hall as a minuscule wind-up car, brown with red and green polka dots, no bigger than Big Mac’s hoof, rolled its way toward him and Spike. It swerved to a stop before them with another small honk. The door opened and Discord came squeezing out of the tightly-packed cabin. “Good morrow, my friends! Art thou prepared for the most riveting plunge into the world of Ogres & Oubliettes!?” Discord snapped his eagle talons and made the toy car disappear while his dazzling Captain Wuzz costume materialized on his person. “You bet!” Spike hopped giddily while a long, frizzly, grey beard grew from his chin and the rest of his Garbunkle attire cloaked him. “Eeyup!” Big Mac heartily agreed, growing a unicorn horn on his forehead and gaining Sir McBiggun’s Black Knight armor. “Oh, fantastic!” Discord chimed. His arms stretched to pull Spike and Big Mac into an excited embrace. “Wait.” Discord paused, sniffing the air. “What is that stench?” “Huh?” Spike took a deep inhale through his nose. “What stench? I don’t smell anything.” He said before he made another nervous check, sniffing his underarm. Discord continued, his nose suddenly morphing into the nose of a bloodhound. He pressed his nose to the smooth crystal floor as he traced the path of the scent he picked up. His smell-sleuthing led him to Big Mac. Discord’s snout crawled up Mac’s leg, detaching from his face as it took in whatever smell was emanating from the black knight. “Er...Discord?” Big Mac asked. “Ah, well, that’s curious.” Discord pondered, his voice slightly nasal. He grabbed his nose that was bouncing on top of Big Mac’s head before reattaching it to his face with a click. “That’s quite the rare cologne you’re wearing, my monosyllabic friend. What is it called? ‘Eau D’Ectoplasme’? Personally, I’m quite fond of ‘Fantôme: Parfum Des Esprits’.” A bottle of cologne appeared in Discord’s lion paw in a flash and he sprayed a couple jets of the scent on himself. Big Mac raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. “...What?” That was the only thing he could respond with. “Oh! Please do have a whiff.” Discord popped so that he was suddenly coiled around Big Mac like a snake. “Isn’t it a wonderful fragrance?” Big Mac sniffed a few times, but couldn’t, for the life of him, smell anything. “Ee-what?” “Discord?” Spike called, tugging on Discord’s tail. “Can we get to the game already? Please!?” “Of course! Now’s not the time for beauty tips! It’s time for adventure and triumph!” Discord popped again, freeing Big Mac from his grasp as the draconequus stood upright. “Though between you and me, Macintosh, I’d dial down the cologne.” He whispered aside to him. Then with a snap of his talons, the three friends were whisked away as the castle that surrounded them faded into nothingness. They landed at the entrance of large purple cave, crudely crafted from cardboard. The ground they stood on was a gridded game mat and the world around them was constructed entirely out of papercraft set pieces. “Now, where were we last time, Spike?” Discord asked, twirling his bow in his paw. “Let’s see…” Spike pulled out his journal for campaign notes from his pouch. After flipping the pages and scanning his scribbles, he found his most recent entry. “Ah! Here we go! Ahem.” Spike cleared his throat before taking on a dramatic tone to set the stage. “We arrive at the Cave of Mudora, giving chase to the retreating forces of Dark Lord Raitharn after their failed attempt to storm the capital of Spiketopia. They hope to lose us in the black winding pathways of the cavern. Our mission is to pursue and capture the soldiers to interrogate them for the whereabouts of the Dark Lord.” As Spike recapped, a couple dozen black-cloaked soldiers, all drawn on papercraft game pieces, ran past the three friends and escaping into the cave. “There they go! After them, boys!” Captain Wuzz alerted as the team gave chase. They charged into the cave and followed closely behind the stragglers of the Dark Lord’s forces. “You fiends aren’t going anywhere!” Garbunkle declared, waving his magic staff and casting an ice web spell ahead of the fleeing foes. The spell hit the cave wall and it immediately spread to create a freezing and tangling barricade of frost and slush. With no other passage through the cave, the enemies could only attempt to trudge through the web and as soon as they set their pieces in the affected area, the words “Reflex Save” flashed above them. The sound of d20s rolling echoed in the cave before numbers of mostly low rolls appeared above each of the soldiers. Most of them were ensnared in the web while the few others with decent rolls were greatly slowed. Sir McBiggun took the opportunity to rush up to the nearest trapped goon, grabbing him by his cardboard edge and threatening him with his broadsword pointed precariously at his crayon-colored throat. “Y’all better spill the beans about the Dark Lord’s stronghold, ‘fore I spill yer guts on the floor!” He growled. Above him, the words “Intimidation Check” flashed and a d20 appeared in his hoof. “Alright, McBiggun! No one can resist your intimidation skills.” Garbunkle cheered with a thumbs up. With a confident smirk, McBiggun tossed his die onto the floor to determine his success. It rolled with a satisfying clatter before it came to a halt. “4” “Four!?” McBiggun’s eyes grew wide at the resulting number above his head. The soldier he had grabbed started laughing maliciously. “As if I’d ever tell you anything, foolish knave! Haha!” He spat. Then, in retaliation, the troop drew his sword with his mouth and attacked McBiggun with a slash. McBiggun staggered backwards from the strike landing on his thick armor. It was able to protect him from most of the damage, but he still took three hit points of damage. Big Mac growled under his breath. Intimidation was usually so easy for him to pull off as Sir McBiggun, but even with his size and charisma advantages to modify his roll, it still wasn’t enough to even make his enemy flinch. It seemed as though his lousy day wasn’t over yet. Discord raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?” He scratched his chin in curiosity. “Aww. That’s a rotten move!” Garbunkle frowned until an arrow, held up by a stick, came flying and went whizzing past his head. “Woah!” Another soldier missed his shot with his paper bow. “Ooh, you’ll regret that, you cur.” Captain Wuzz warned, readying his own bow. “No one harms my friends!” Another d20 appeared in the captain’s parsnip hand and he gave it a toss. The die tumbled until it rolled to a stop and the result flashed above his head. “16” Captain Wuzz released his mighty arrow and it whistled through the air before striking the Dark Lord’s goon right in the heart. The papercraft figurine then burst into a puff of smoke. “Whew.” Garbunkle sighed in relief. “Thanks, Wuzz.” The rest of the troop attempted to move and make their escape, making another Reflex Save roll that only benefitted a few of them. “C’mon, guys. We still have a chance to catch these crooks!” Garbunkle rallied, pointing his staff at their trapped targets. The three companions regrouped and, with weapons at the ready, they advanced on their enemies together. However, as they approached, all of the Dark Lord’s soldiers had their bows drawn with bomb arrows. All at once, they aimed high and released their explosives, which detonated upon contact with a massive stalactite that loomed over the heroes. There was a foreboding rumble that shook the cave and an unsettling crackling that was accompanied by falling rubble. “Reflex Save” flashed above the three, along with each of them receiving a d20 to determine their survival as the stalactite began to fall. “Ohgeezohboyohnononono!!!” Spike frantically blubbered as he blew his die for luck and tossed it. “Nopenopenopenopenope!!!” Big Mac prayed to high Celestia for a decent outcome this time. Otherwise, that huge rock would fall and instantly kill Sir McBiggun. He swallowed and threw his die. Clatter clatter... It tumbled along the rocky ground, rolling seemingly slow to Big Mac as his persona’s fate was left to luck. Then, as the die came to a near stop, for the longest millisecond of his life, it was left standing precariously between two numbers: 20 and 2. Finally, it leaned and fell. … “2” “...Aw, buck.” Sir McBiggun was weighed down by his heavy armor and wasn’t able to react quickly enough to run out of the way of the falling stalactite… Suddenly, a whistle was blown loudly. “FOUL! PENALTY! INTERFERENCE!” Discord shouted, now donning a referee’s uniform while tossing a red card at McBiggun’s face. “Ee-wha-?” The black knight looked up and saw that the rock that was about to crush him was frozen, suspended in mid-fall just above his head. “Discord, what gives? Why’d you stop the game?” Spike asked, dusting himself off after Garbunkle made his escape. “Well, isn’t it obvious? There was clearly some foul play in Big Mac’s rolls. I can’t believe I didn’t spot it sooner. The cologne should’ve been a dead giveaway.” Discord answered, changing his wardrobe yet again into blue overalls over a green long-sleeve and a green cap embroidered with the letter “D” over the front brim. On his back was a large red vacuum cleaner, with a hose and nozzle that extended to Discord’s lion paw. He pulled out a flashlight and started to scan the cave, creeping around the shady darkness in search of...something. “What the hay are ya talkin’ about?” Big Mac moved away from his spot underneath certain death. “Aha! Found you!” Discord smirked when he cast his flashlight on Big Mac. His vacuum started with an obnoxious whirring and Discord pointed the hose directly at Mac. The suction power of the vacuum was surprisingly powerful for a household appliance and Big Mac had to plant his hooves on the ground to avoid getting pulled in. “Are ya crazy, Discord!?” He shouted as he struggled to keep his footing, but his words could barely be heard over the roaring of the vacuum’s engine. Then, there was a pop and the pull of the vacuum stopped, which caught Big Mac off guard as he fell and fumbled backwards, stopping with his belly on the ground. “Yes! I’ve captured that naughty little thing!” Discord cheered triumphantly, snapping his fingers to teleport Spike, Big Mac, and himself back into the safety of the castle, within the chamber of the table map. The three of them were out of their costumes while Discord kept the dust chamber of the vacuum standing on the table, beside all of the OnO maps, charts, and books. The vacuum rattled in unrest, almost as if it was possessed by something. “Uh, Discord?” Spike scratched his head spines. “Can you please explain what just happened.” “Oh, it’s nothing much, really! I only caught a spirit that was haunting our apple-branded friend.” He answered so casually, patting the vacuum’s storage with his paw while it shook and hopped. “You’re welcome, by the way, Big Mac.” “So...you’re saying that...Er…” Spike gulped, shivering a little bit. “...th-there’s a g-g-ghost in there?” “Discord’s jus’ pullin’ our legs.” Big Mac assured, holding his hoof to Spike’s shoulder. “Oh, no. I’m being completely serious.” Discord retorted, materializing a pair of headphones over his ears and a strange hoofheld device with a screen feeding unreadable recordings and a dish antenna pointed at the disturbed vacuum and whatever was trapped inside. “Ooh! And she seems like a doozy! I’d say a Class 5 poltergeist.” “Ain’t no such thing as ghosts, Discord.” Big Mac shook his head in disbelief. At that instant, the dust chamber trembled more violently, causing it to fall off of the table. Big Mac blinked in surprise whereas Spike hid behind his hindleg. “U-Uh...Don’t let that thing out, okay?” Spike meekly requested. “My word! There’s no need for such language, young lady!” Discord scolded the trapped spirit. “You can understand it?” Spike asked. “Of course, I can, Spike! I’m fluent in the soft, subtle dialect of Phantomese. She’s such an aggressive one, this one and from what I understand, she’s been attached to...ahem…‘this big dummy.’” Discord gestured to Big Mac. “And I had to greatly censor her creative choice of words. Big Mac, hasn’t anything unusual or odd happened to you today?” Big Mac’s mind instantly went to this morning’s incident with the chicken coop, the shadow he saw in his bathroom and the apple stand’s leg snapping off. “A number o’ things. But it ain’t nothin’ more than just a bad day.” He tried to rationalize, taking a seat at one of the marble thrones at the round table. There was no way that what happened today was the work of some supernatural figment. “Hmm...That’s peculiar.” Discord mused after he set the vacuum back on the table. He brushed his goatee with his talons, listening to the spirit through his bizarre gadget. “‘You’re as stubborn as a mule, Big Macintosh.’” “Hey!” Big Mac scowled. “She said it! Not me!” Discord blamed, before he continued. “‘You devastated Bright. He’s been nothing but kind to you and he put his trust in you and you let him down because you’re so bullheaded.’” “Bright? What’s he gotta do with this?” Big Mac asked, sitting upright and raising an eyebrow. “‘Bright is my best friend and when you mess with him, you’re in for the haunting of your life.’ Oh, my. I think I’m going to like you.” Discord chuckled, kicking back on another one of the thrones and putting his cloven hoof and dragon foot up on the table. “Wait wait wait. Just wait a second. I need to catch up here.” Spike rubbed his temples, trying to understand what was even going on at the moment. “So the ghost is a friend of Bright? How is that possible? I mean, it’s not like he always has a Ouinling board on hoof.” Spike gave a short nervous laugh. “...R-Right?” “No...it’s because…” Then, Big Mac widened his eyes as he had a revelation. All the bad luck he had today wasn’t luck at all. They were hauntings caused by this ghost. “...Bright really can see ‘em…” He murmured. “What was that?” Spike asked. “Uhh...Sorry, fellas. I’m gonna have to call this session short. I gotta see Bright right now.” Big Mac stood up and adjusted his beanie. Discord flashed out of his seat and in front of Mac. “Excuse me!? So soon? But I just caught the saucy spirit. Now we can play without any interruptions!” He reminded, reapplying his Captain Wuzz attire, flowing hair and all. “I gotta go and fix a mistake I made.” Big Mac shook his head before he looked over at the shaking vacuum. “And you’re gonna have to let her go.” He pointed. “Oh, come now, Big Macintosh. I was going turn her into a lovely painting and hang her up on my wall.” Discord crossed his arms in protest, to which Big Mac responded by returning a disapproving glance. “Hmph. Fine. She’s all yours.” Discord snapped his talons and the release hatch on the dust chamber came off. “Thank ya kindly.” Big Mac smiled, skipping backwards towards the door anxiously. “I owe you fellas another Guy’s Night!” He burst through the hallway doors, galloped off, and left the castle in a hurry. He had a friend he needed to see. The night air was cold and crisp as it lashed Big Mac’s fur. Frigid, but not quite freezing, even as he galloped through lamplit streets. Not that it would’ve made a difference to him. Big Mac was more concerned about whether or not he could still pick up the pieces of his and Bright’s broken friendship, though, he didn’t know what he was going to say to him or how he was even going to start. The entire idea of a pony being able to communicate with ghosts and spirits was completely insane, and even then, Big Mac was still having trouble understanding how it was possible for Bright. At one point, he briefly wondered if he was dreaming this whole day and if he was going to awaken to the sound of a rooster’s call, but he couldn’t deny what had happened today or the intentions of an invisible friend of Bright. Bright...talks to ghosts… That was a fact and it sounded so foreign and strange in his head. “It’s sick, Bright!” Big Mac remembered. That was the last thing he yelled at Bright in a fury. He shut his eyes tight, grimacing at the thought. I basically called him...a deranged psycho. He reigned himself, slowing to a brisk trot, needing a breath. Is he even gonna wanna talk to me after that? He thought. The glare that Bright gave him earlier in the market came back to mind. Dang it...He prob’ly hates me right now. What do I say to ‘im? He furrowed his brows and tightened his lips. Again, Big Mac was having trouble speaking his mind when it came to Bright. I...I still like him. His stomach lurched and twisted again, except it didn’t feel very good like it did when he talked to Bright before. He wished he could take back what he said. Soon enough, as Big Mac cantered down the long dirt path that lead away from Ponyville, he saw Bright’s home peek into view from behind the oak trees that stood on the moist grassy plains. The lights were on within his windows, so he had to be there. Big Mac’s hooves grew heavy as he approached. His heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest as he dreaded whatever was was going to happen as soon as Bright opened his front door. Finally, when Big Mac stood at the porch, he lifted his hoof...and he froze. His hoof trembled, unwilling to move. Come on, Macintosh. Ya gotta talk to him. He pushed himself to knock, but still held back. He ain’t gonna answer...Ya gotta try, stupid colt. Then, the handle jiggled and the door opened. There Bright was, on the other side, still dressed warm like he was earlier that day. Being face to face with him, Big Mac noticed some shady circles around his eyes. He had a suspicion that Bright was a bit tired, considering how he looked earlier that day, but now, it seemed he didn’t get much sleep at all the night before. Bright looked up at Big Mac with a direct gaze, eyes slightly squinted and his jaw clenched. His hooves were planted firmly on his hardwood floor, as if prepared for a confrontation. “What do you want?” Bright asked, a bit harshly. Big Mac winced, though he sort of expected a cold greeting. He took a breath and let the words fall out of his mouth. “Bright, I...I just wanted to say that I believe you. You were right the whole time...I know now that these ghosts n’ spirits are as real as you or me.” Bright unwittingly let his glare soften and his lips parted slightly, confused. Big Mac continued. “I know you were tellin’ me the whole truth yesterday and...I’m ashamed that I chewed ya out for it. I-I was a fool to not put my trust in one of my best friends.” Big Mac took a small step closer to him and Bright flinched, retreating a bit in reflex. “I’m sorry, Bright...With all my heart, I’m truly sorry…” When it was said and done, the only thing that Big Mac could see on Bright’s face was frozen disbelief. Bright seemed as though he was battling himself with conflicting thoughts, all while he just stared at Mac, trying to get something out of his mouth. After a few tense seconds, Bright’s pupils shrank and he drew a sharp breath before he finally spoke. “What kind of a foal do you take me for? You think you can just show up at my door and apologize and expect me to believe you? Do you take joy in playing with my emotions?” He sharpened his gaze once more, lowered his brows, and his face grew red underneath his blue fur as he began to boil. His forehooves visibly tensed, tremoring against the wood floor. Big Mac’s ears fell flat against his head and his tail quivered between his legs. “Bright, I-“ “Do you know how much torment and ridicule I’ve been through over the years? How many nights I’ve cried myself to sleep, believing that I was a freak!?” Bright stomped, ragefully. “‘Look! It’s Screwloose Sight! Hey, schizo! Still talking to the voices in your head!?’” Big Mac crossed his hooves nervously like a colt getting a scolding from his parent. He never imagined Bright concealing so much anger and frustration. “You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to see things nopony else can and to be mocked for it, time and time again. It never ends for me, even now, and I’m so bucking sick and tired of all of it!” Bright stifled a sob, wiping his eye with one stroke of his foreleg. He managed to compose himself slightly with a shuddered breath as he turned away from Big Mac. “...If I can’t escape being labeled as nothing more than mental or insane, then I’d rather just be left alone. Just...leave, Zap...I-I mean...never mind.” He shook his head and closed the door. Big Mac blinked in confusion for a brief instant before he reached forward and stopped the door, short of shutting. “Bright, wait.” He spoke up. There was a long moment of silence, then Bright partly opened the door, averting his eyes away, unwilling to be completely vulnerable in front of Big Mac. Big Mac eyed Bright with a sympathetic gaze. “I know I can’t understand what yer life is like or what you’ve been through, but it sounds like ya had to endure a lot on your own. And to be really honest, it sounds like a mighty lonesome life.” He reached the top of his hoof and lifted Bright’s head by his chin and Bright reluctantly lifted his eyes to Big Mac, ears falling flat. “...Bright, you’re a real swell stallion. It’s a shame ya feel like you have to hide yourself from the world. What I said yesterday wasn’t excusable, but...I still wanna be yer friend. Iff’n you’ll have me, that is.” He smiled softly. Bright’s lip quivered and as he stared into Big Mac’s sincere expression, his face went red again, but it wasn’t from anger this time. He wiped away a tear that started to roll down his cheek and he cleared his throat. “I’d really like that…” He admitted with a nod. Big Mac’s grin grew wider and he sat on his haunches on the hardwood floor, reaching a hoof out to Bright. “C’mere. Ya need a hug, bad.” Bright let out a short laugh for the first time in a day, partly from awkward attraction, yet mostly from relief. He moved close to Big Mac and let himself sink against his body, wrapping both his legs around him. Mac rested his hoof on Bright’s back and comforted him with gentle strokes on his fur. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, picking up a subtle scent of mint and blueberries from Bright’s mane. He sighed softly, content. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you like that…” Bright murmured with a slight frown. “I thought it would feel good to just...finally let out all my grief and frustration. And it did for a little bit, but then I looked at you and I felt like I was turning my back on the only living pony that I was most comfortable being myself around. I’m tired of hiding…” “Guess ya don’t have much left to hide from me. I’m sure that talkin’ to ghosts was the heaviest pill to swallow.” Big Mac chuckled a bit, attempting to lighten the dour mood. “Yeah...You’re right.” Bright replied with some pep. Then, his ears twitched and he partially parted from the hug, turning his head to look elsewhere, within his home. “What’s up, Bright?” Big Mac asked. “...It’s nothing.” He started to lie before the realization hit him. “...Well, actually...I think I’d like to introduce you to my best friend.” Big Mac’s calm expression was rattled as he widened his eyes and his smile changed from relaxed to more anxious. “...H-Heh...I think she and I are already pretty acquainted.” He chuckled nervously, scratching his nose where his bandages were. “How did you know she was…” Bright paused, finally noticing how Big Mac was injured. Then, he looked over his shoulder and listened before he was suddenly shocked, pulling away from Mac. “...What!? Ivory, why would you do that!? I’d never wish that on anypony!” He turned back to Big Mac with a sheepish smile. “H-Ha...I’m really sorry about the trouble Ivory caused you today. I promise you that I never ask any ghosts to haunt ponies.” Big Mac couldn’t help but give a short laugh. There was something about Bright’s reaction that was so adorable. “No no. You’re alright, Bright. I probably had it comin’ after that bump we had. I don’t blame ya. Yer friend was just standin’ up for ya.” He nodded. “And...I’m happy to do the same if anypony gives ya trouble.” He felt his cheeks grow warm. Bright paused, in a short daze, then he grew another smile: a grateful one. “You’re really great, Big...Maaaac...” He let out a long, tired yawn. “Y’all should get some rest. Ya look exhausted.” Big Mac suggested. “Yeah...I’m gonna turn in early tonight.” Bright replied, smacking his lips. “So...er...can I see ya tomorrow? Maybe get a cup o’ coffee and chocolate at the cafe?” “Sure. I can meet you there after I’m done at the library. It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve, so we’ll be closing early, in the afternoon at 2.” “Great. I’ll see ya there.” Big Mac grinned, standing up and moseying out the door to leave. However, something came to his mind and after taking his first steps outside, he stopped and looked back at Bright. “Hey, Bright?” “Yeah?” Bright answered, standing by the door. “Earlier, ya called me ‘Zap’.” Big Mac rubbed his neck, hoping not to be too nosy. “...Iff’n ya don’t mind me askin’, why did ya? Who’s ‘Zap’?” Bright gained a bewildered expression at the mention. He looked down, shying away a little, tensing up. A bitter chill ran down his spine that briefly shook his body and his forehooves trembled again. “I...I-I…” He stuttered, almost silently. Big Mac raised a brow and took a step closer, dipping his head to try and look at Bright’s face. “Bright…?” It took a moment of stunned silence before Bright sharply inhaled and cleared his throat, looking up at Big Mac. “...Zap? Let’s just say that he’s somepony that...I wish I could forget.” He replied. Big Mac was a bit daunted by the answer. He hadn’t known anypony to get so frozen up like that. “Alright...You have a good night, Bright.” He parted, wishing not to press further. “Good night, Big Mac...See you tomorrow.” Bright, at least, saw him off with a small smile and a wave of his hoof. Big Mac returned the grin and started to amble back onto the path to town. He adjusted the scarf on his neck as a cold breeze passed through and began to mull over Bright and the somepony he knew. It concerned him that Bright grew so paralyzed. While he was glad that the both of them were able to reconcile, he knew that there was more that Bright didn’t want to share. Whether or not he would was completely up to him, but Big Mac felt in his heart that he just had to be there for him, regardless. Ain’t nopony’s gonna hurt ya the same way I did, Bright...I promise.