“Mayor Inkwell!” Octavia cried as if in reflex. The camera switched to where she was staring focusing the shot on the mayor’s tiny form. Her black mane that was tied to a bun was a bit messy. The black-rimmed glasses that she’s wearing covered a pair of baggy dead fish eyes. She was slightly slouching when she approached Rockwell and Octavia.
“Ohh, so that’s what she looks like.” Rockwell said to himself.
“What is going on here?” Mayor Inkwell said. Her voice sounded tired. She looked at Rockwell, eyes focusing on his open wound. “And is that stallion bleeding?”
Rockwell hummed mockingly. “Very observant of you, and what else do you see?”
The Mayor was a bit taken aback at Rockwell’s patronizing reply. Her scrunched snout was evidence of her reaction.
“That suit.” Her tired eyes suddenly opened wide as she canned him from top to bottom. “You’re an agent from the bureau, aren’t you?”
“Very good!” Rockwell replied, his tone still condescending. “Now do another one, let’s make it three.”
Mayor Inkwell did her best to straighten her form before replying. “May I know what brings you here in our little yet peaceful town?” The sound of her voice has more energy in it than before. But it also sounded nervous.
“I don’t think I can call this town peaceful if there’s a ‘race war’ going on Ma’am.” Rockwell said, raising a foreleg to do an air quote at ‘race war’ part.
“Race war!? Here!? In Ponyville!?” Mayor Inkwell exclaimed, her voice sounded more nervous than ever.
“Yes, yes, and yes. Look...” Rockwell groaned before continuing. “As much as I love to discuss this semi-serious matter with you, I don’t think my wound is on the same boat with me. Because as you can see,” He showed the Mayor his gushing wound. “I’m still bleeding.”
Mayor Inkwell’s perked up. “Oh my goodness, I’m really sorry! We should take you to a hospital, fast!”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Rockwell shrugged her offer. “I can take care of it myself. All I need right now is a place to crash. Is there an inn near here or something?”
“Our house has a spare bedroom that’s specially reserved for guests. You can rest there if you like.” Octavia said.
“Does that mean I’m spending the night with you?” Rockwell followed his joke with a laugh. “It’s just a joke!” He motioned the camera to focus its shot on Octavia’s reddening face while roughly brushing her mane. “Look at her, she’s all flustered!”
“No, no, no!” Mayor Inkwell cried, urging the camera to focus on here again. “We can’t have you staying the night here in some measly quarters!” She gave Octavia a flat stare. “No offense, Miss Melody.”
Octavia smiled at her with teeth tightly gritted. “None taken.”
She looked back at Rockwell, seemingly unfazed with Octavia’s reaction. “We have a manor on top of that hill located at the end of the outskirts. It hasn’t been used in a while but its accommodations are still intact. Blurry here will get the keys for you.” She turned around towards the line of night guards escorting her. She stared at the purple thestral standing at the end of the line and gave her a nod. The mare seemed to understand the gesture and proceeded to fly away from the group.
After agreeing to continue their talk tomorrow, both Rockwell and the Mayor’s groups went on their separate ways, but not before Rockwell asking directions to the manor. The walk towards there was mostly silent, with Rockwell ripping a part of his shirt off while Octavia helped tie it to his shoulder to prevent more blood from gushing out from the cut.
Once they have reached the bottom of the hill. Blurry, the thestral the Mayor asked to get the keys to the manor met them there. She didn’t say anything throughout the entire encounter and flew as quickly as she came afterwards.
“Is this the place?” Octavia said as they approached the manor. The building stood alone in the vast patch of grass covering the hill. The camera zoomed in on the structure. From a glance, it’s easy to assume that this place was abandoned. The windows were coated in dust and cobwebs, the walls took on a moldy color of greyish green, and the lawn was untrimmed to the point of concealing the porch from any onlooker nearby.
“It is a manor, isn’t it?” Rockwell replied.
“Indeed it is. But saying that it hasn’t been used in a while is akin to calling the elderly kindergarteners.”
Rockwell snorted at Octavia’s analogy. “Well, yeah. It may look old and dusty, but I’d rather bleed out in there than here.”
“Oh right! Sorry.” Octavia quickly trotted towards the manor’s door that’s at least three ponies high. The jingling of the keys as it entered through the keyhole was the only sound that broke the eerie silence of the night.
“I never knew we had something like this in Ponyville.” Octavia added. When the lock made a clicking sound, she pushed the door open with both her forelegs. Pushing a wooden door open that’s three times her height with a single hoof proved to be difficult.
As they entered the place, they were immediately greeted to a living room that has been glazed grey with dust. The entire room looked like a grimy beignet. There’s a group of webby seats facing the equally webby fireplace. The camera looked up and saw chandeliers that were almost wrapped up with ashen nets that it looked more like a beehive than lighting ornament. The stairs was caked with so much dust that it can be mistaken as a layered baking tray. And as the camera moved around, it noticed an old phonograph perched on top of the drawers that had powdery white threads hanging on it, making it look like a circus tent for ants.
“It’s like a scene taken straight out of a horror picture,” Octavia commented upon observing the manor’s interior.
“Except it’s not haunted. I’m going to sit over there for a bit.” Rockwell said as he approached a couch that’s facing the fireplace. He took off his jacket and shirt and placed them on its armrest. He then hopped on the couch, creating a large dirt cloud with his landing. He gave a satisfied sigh after stretching his body on its dusty cushion.
“Thank you for coming with me here by the way.” He said to Octavia, who was still roaming around the living room curiously. “You can leave me now if you want. I can take things from here.”
“But what about your wound?” Octavia stopped her trotting. “I think it still needs some disinfecting and stitching.”
“Yeah I can do that later. This is a really long day for me so let me just close my eyes for a second or two...” Rockwell said, mumbling the last part. He suddenly raised his head and looked at Octavia. “What about your marefriend?”
A look of confusion formed on Octavia’s face. “I beg your pardon?”
Rockwell lowered his again. “The vampire, isn’t she your marefriend? Won’t she be worried that you’re still not home at this hour?”
Octavia’s face turned red for the second time tonight. “M-marefriend? Where did you get such an absurd idea!?” Her stare shiftily switched between Rockwell and the camera.
“I dunno,” Rockwell shrugged from his couch. “Her calling you nicknames, you acting so worried about her. Octy?” He chuckled. “I just had a feeling that’s all.”
“And just those to hold on to, you immediately assumed that we’re, we’re...” Her face was now redder than an apple’s. “Well, I have never! We’re just friends, do you understand!? Friends! Friends that have happened to live together, or vice versa.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with a hoof. “Good gracious, what prompted you to say such things in the first place anyway?”
“Distracting myself from the pain.” Rockwell casually replied. “The method usually works. But now that we’re talking about my wound again, it’s starting to lose its charm. Do me a favor and go to the bathroom, will you? There might be painkillers in the medicine cabinet and hopefully some needles and a spool of thread.”
“Alright don’t move; I’ll be back shortly,” Octavia said as she jogged to the next room. The camera didn’t follow her and chose to record Rockwell instead. The only sign of her departure was the sound of hoof steps slowly fading away into the other room.
As the camera focused its shot on Rockwell, a soft snoring sound can be heard coming from him. The camera moved the center of its focus from Rockwell’s face to the wound on his shoulder. The ripped part of the shirt that was used to temporarily seal it did its part. Save from the red stain soaking the fabric, the bleeding has mostly stopped.
A loud ‘fwoom’ sound suddenly came out from the fireplace. And all of a sudden, everything in the room was lit with a soft orange glow. The camera followed the source of the sound only to find out that for mysterious reasons, the fireplace had an actual working fire.
This elicited a gasp from the camera mare. She focused the camera on Rockwell again. The stallion didn’t seem to have noticed the rise of warmness in the formerly chilly room. A pink hoof was about to reach out to his shoulder in hopes of rocking him awake but it instead focused on the sound of hoof steps coming from the next room.
“I’m going upstairs,” Octavia called as she approached the dusty stairs. “There’s only the dining room and kitchen here. And there seems to be a giant hole above the dining room, I can’t say that one’s intentional.”
“Wha-?” Rockwell rose up from the couch. “Oh, you lit the fireplace already? Nice.”
Octavia trotted back to the living room and checked out the newly lit fireplace. “I didn’t do it.” She looked at the camera mare. “Did you?”
“No!” The camera mare quickly answered. There’s a hint of panic and confusion in her voice.
Octavia tilted her head. “Then who did?”
“I don’t know!” The camera mare’s voice was more frantic than ever. “It just ignited all of a sudden!”
An annoyed sigh escaped from Octavia’s lips. She placed a hoof on her face before replying. “Look, we don’t have time for fun and games right now. There’s a wounded stallion among us and he needs our help. Why don’t you follow me upstairs? Let’s get some medicine for the agent.”
“But I’m telling you the truth!”
Octavia glared at the mare. “Just come with me please.”
Each step the mares took created creepy creaking noises from the stairs. The same thing happened when they passed through the hallway. No matter how gentle their steps may be, the sound would always be there to give them goosebumps. They were a bit relieved when they reached the master’s bedroom located at the end of the hallway. The room has suffered the same dusty treatment from below; even the queen-sized bed looked like a giant square dough. But at least the wooden floor was not creaky anymore. The camera mare followed Octavia as she went straight to the bathroom.
“Oh look,” Octavia said in a drab tone as she laid eyes at the medicine cabinet that appeared to have not been opened for years. “I’m assuming it’s either empty or all of its contents are expired.”
She opened the cabinet’s door with her hoof, revealing to the camera that there’s nothing inside it. “It appears to be the former.” She looked back at the camera. “Let’s go to the other rooms. If we’re certain that this place is totally out of supplies, I’m rushing back home to get our first aid ki-”
The medicine cabinet shook violently, urging Octavia to cut herself off and look back at it.
“What was that?” Octavia looked back to ask the mare. She attempted to open the cabinet again, only to see it brimming with supplies such as bottles of medicine, shaving kits, toothbrushes, toothpastes, and other things a pony needed to start the day.
She quickly closed the door, rubbed both her eyes and opened it again. The stack of supplies was still there. She closed the cabinet once more and looked back at the camera again. Her face looked paler than before.
“Are you seeing this?” She said to the mare.
The camera itself nodded up and down in response.
She opened the cabinet again. But this time, slower. The supplies resting inside were still there and appeared to be untouched.
“This is impossible, are our eyes deceiving us?” Octavia cautiously grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the corner of the cabinet. She looked at the bottle closely. “This is real. It looks real and it feels real. And I could have sworn it was empty a moment ago.” She looked back at the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of disinfectant, a pack of cotton, and a small suturing kit.
Once she got all that she needed, Octavia stared at the camera again. “I think we should leave this room. It’s getting eerie around here all of a sudden.”
The camera nodded again and once more followed Octavia’s lead. And as they exited the bathroom, they were faced with another unsettling sight. The bedroom that previously looked like a desert of murky white dust was now clean and well lit. Even the bed looked brand new with its freshly changed sheets and glistening wooden frame.
“Oh, Celestia.” Octavia muttered, fear evident in her voice. “This place really is haunted! Go! Go! Go!” She quickly dashed out of the room on all fours, leaving the medical supplies behind in her panicked escape. The camera followed her as fast it could, although it’s at the cost of its shots happening in rapidly shaking motions during the entire ordeal.
“I’m going to assume you’re not kidding about the fireplace earlier!” Octavia said to the camera mare as they zoomed through the hallway in no time.
“No I am not!” Came the camera mare’s reply.
As the Octavia reached the living room she spent no time leaping on the couch to where Rockwell was resting to immediately wake him up.
“Agent Rockwell wake up!” Octavia screamed at Rockwell’s face all the while shaking him. “This place is haunted we’re getting out of here!”
Rockwell woke up in extreme pain when Octavia gripped both his shoulders tightly while holding him. “Ha? Haunted? Whaddya mean haunted?” He mumbled, still feeling groggy from his brief nap.
And out of nowhere the phonograph from before whirred to life without anypony touching it, it played a sharp distorted sound. From the looks of it, the record that it was currently playing was old and broken, adding another layer of fear in an already scary atmosphere.
“See that!?” Octavia pointed at the phonograph. “Let’s leave this place before they’ll get us!”
As those words escaped Octavia’s lips, the three ponies high wooden door quickly slammed itself shut. A metallic clicking can be heard afterwards, signifying that it locked itself as well.
“Oh no.” Octavia sounded as if her soul just left her body. “We’re trapped!”
Rockwell gave another groan from the pain that Octavia was causing due to how tight she gripped both his shoulders. He pulled the wounded leg off of her hold. And due to the fear she’s currently experiencing, she didn’t even notice it.
“Geez.” Rockwell scratched his head, he sounded like he’s not having any of this. It’s like he’s not even scared at all! “Would you relax for a bit?” He trotted slowly from the phonograph and pulled its needle away. The highly unsettling sound finally stopped. “We’re not haunted.” He continued. “I’ve been haunted before and this is not it. A mouse just probably landed on the phonograph or something. It’s purely coincidental.”
“But the door!” Octavia replied, still unconvinced.
“Aren’t you following the news? It’s the start of the windy season. A strong breeze might have pushed it back into a close. And the force of the impact triggered it to lock itself as well, also a coincidence.”
The chandeliers suddenly lit up, revealing the once old and dusty room now looked as if it had just been renovated recently. Everything was spick-and-span. The windows were free of grime. The floors were so clean that they now act as mirrors. And the chandeliers that looked like giant hives from before were now restored to their original golden forms. The old and abandoned look was no longer there. It was now replaced with a room worthy of hosting high-end parties, a royal ball even.
Octavia went behind Rockwell with the camera mare in tow as if to hide for cover. She pointed at the golden chandeliers now lighting up the room.
“How about that anomaly!?” She screamed right into Rockwell’s ear. “Can you explain that?”
“Relax,” Rockwell said as he leaned his head away from Octavia, gently rubbing his ear that was screamed at. “The power’s back up. Although I can’t believe that a small town such as Ponyville have buildings that run on elec-”
Rockwell let out a surprisingly uncharacteristic shriek. Octavia did the same, but they’re not looking in the same direction. The camera panned itself to where Octavia was looking. The furniture in the living room levitated upwards. They hovered slowly in the air, switching their bodies left and right as if looking for the right spot to land. The mare holding the camera didn’t scream, but the shivering motion of the camera was proof enough that she too was scared.
“Do you believe us now!?” Octavia cried right into Rockwell’s ear again.
Rockwell gave her a funny look. “Believe? That my shirt and jacket disappeared?”
“Wait, you’re not screaming at the furniture floating without the assistance of magic?”
“Whaddya mea-” Rockwell looked above and saw the floating furniture. “Oh that. Yeah, I think we’re dealing with real ghosts here.