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// Leaf 01- The Black Cat's Shadow 
// Story: Leaves- An Anthology 
// by FrostTheWolf 
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In this particular story, the end is actually the beginning. For you see, in this tale, one unfortunate soul that reached the end prematurely was given a second chance. A new body for their soul, and a new world for them to live in.

Though, like all things in life, there was a catch with this particular figure. First and foremost, many of the inhabitants and concepts that keep the world together were foreign to them or didn't exist. Second, the new body wasn't like the one he had before and learning how to use it was beyond difficult.

You would think that with this, it could all be solved by just asking around for help. Unfortunately, that's where the last catch comes into play. Every creature was either scared of them or saw them as a villain that needed to be destroyed or captured immediately.

I mean, to be fair, he didn't quite know that his newfound body once belonged to the most diabolical bastard to ever live. Or that they hid away an entire kingdom, enslaved its people and at one point, declared war on the main governing body in the country he just woke up in days ago.

Such things like this don’t exactly come with a Fine Print or Terms and Conditions.

Of course, he tried to say otherwise... but when the entire populace thinks that you’re an insane megalomaniac and any words you say are deceitful, it gets rather difficult.

‘Difficult’ is putting it lightly. More like beyond impossible.

Sidenote though, did we ever get his name? Like, his actual name? Not the name of what or who he is now? It feels incomplete to leave someone this important as ‘Nameless’.

Other storytellers can get away with it, but us? No no no. We have much higher standards than that.

I think we heard it once. Simon? Santiago? Sebastian? Steven? Little tricky, but I believe it started with an S. We’ll find a way to circle back around to it, but right now, everypony is calling him Sombra. You know, because of the body?

Anyways, where were we? Ah right, he was moving. To where, it was unclear. But ever since finding himself in this predicament, every day for ‘S’ has been a rotating cycle of eat, sleep, run for your life, repeat. He could barely get a moment to breathe before hearing his pursuers cry out about ‘friendship and harmony’ around every corner.

Right now, much to his surprise, he was in a city. One that was rather reminiscent of a place he visited a couple times before his current… Let's call it a developing situation. The specifics aren’t quite too important, but what is is that the city is massive and busy this late in the evening. Think downtown Time Square during rush hour traffic if that helps.

And it was raining, let’s not forget that.

You would think with the target that was painted on his back that ‘S’ wouldn’t want to go through here. But, that was what he was doing. Because this was the only time he had to test something that had been on his mind.

His eyes glanced to the left and right, noticing a mare that held a parasol in a magical grip. As he took in a breath, he let go of himself and sunk into the ground. A moving puddle of a shadow that slipped underneath one figure, before hopping to the next one and the one under that. 

Barely any creature noticed or really paid attention. More prominent things were on their minds. Getting home to the family, what’s on the menu for dinner, what time is the Broadhay show they booked tickets for starting at?

You heard us right. Broadhay. Different worlds, different rules and naming conventions. You get used to it.

At one point, ‘S’ finally reaches the other side and is about to slip further into an empty alley. But then, a voice speaks up. A rather familiar one that didn’t exactly mean anything good for them. “What do ya mean ya haven’t seen anypony like them around here?”

Around the corner, there were two figures talking to a unicorn dressed in a police uniform and a raincoat. First one had a… gamboge body with a blonde mane and tail, an image of apples on the rear posterior and a rather noticeable hat that could be seen for miles. The other was a cream yellow pegasus with butterflies on the flank (and probably in their stomach too) with a light pink mane.

Both of them also had umbrella’s with them. Because… well, the rain.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” the officer says, “But if anypony had noticed them, we would’ve gotten a call about it. Besides, this isn’t my field of expertise.”

“A-aren’t you an o-officer though?” the pegasus, who seems like quite the shy sort, asks next.

“I’m a traffic officer,” He politely corrects the shy one, “My job is with the carriages that come through here and such. You know, ensuring regulations, issuing citations. That kind of thing. If it's trying to find somepony, and in your case somepony that may be dangerous, it would probably be better to go to the Station House and talk to the chief-”

By that point, ‘S’ no longer needed to hear anything else. If he stook around too long, the two of them would catch onto him and then, the cycle would repeat all over again. The more distance he could put between him and the crazy mares trying to capture him, the better.

Of course, hiding in shadows was only going to work for so long before they caught a whiff of where he might be. For if there was anything that his pursuers were, it was tenacious. He needed a place to stay. A place to lay low and hide his head.

As luck would have it though, after passing through a few more alleys and side streets, luck just happened to be in his favor. In his sights, there was a building that was much different from the glossy and glamorous structures of downtown Neigh York. 

It was showing its age, but the foundation looked sturdy enough. Though, ‘S’ didn’t quite care about looks. 

Any place would do as long as he could catch his breath and finally be able to sleep without a zealous princess and her friends breathing down his neck.

Now, let’s pause for a moment. There are a couple things to note as this plays out. Mainly, ‘S’ assumes that there is nothing in this building. Which in itself is a rather risky choice, but we’ll get right back to that. 

Another thing to be pointed out is that compared to the rest of the city, this particular area was ungodly quiet. Like, outside of the rain hitting the pavement and rolling off the buildings, you don’t hear anything else. It’s as quiet as a graveyard out here, which probably contributes to ‘S’s decision making in this frozen moment.

Unpause. ‘S’ approaches the door. Actually, ‘approach’ wouldn’t accurately summarize what’s happening. Remember that shadow trick from before? Well, it’s happening again.

Oh boy.

So, instead of going through the door like a normal creature, he just slips under it. Into a presumably abandoned building. Which wasn’t really abandoned at all, as it turns out. 

In fact, he found himself in an antique looking bar that looked like a frozen moment in time. For simplicity’s sake, it looks like that one bar straight out of the roaring twenties. Like, peak classy prohibition era if you get what I mean.

It has nice chairs set up with sort of matching tables, a barely functioning jukebox in the corner, numerous different colored bottles of different shapes along the back counter. A sign was being held up by the bar listing… rules, it seems.

Though, ‘S’ did not exactly have a lot of time to stare in awe at what he stumbled on. For someone else had noticed him. That being the bartender and owner of this establishment. 

A bipedal cat… figure.

Of course, this world has Abyssinians, but this cat is different. It has… wings for some reason and its physique looks unnatural. It didn’t have paws, but instead had long stretchy claws. Its body had marks of different playing card symbols on the tips of the wings and other places. The only clothes it was wearing were a small top hat and a red bow-tie.

What was most notable about them was their attitude. Especially when seeing ‘S’ for the first time, and immediately looking at them with an annoyed and rather disgusted expression. “Oh, bloody fucking brilliant… royalty.”

Now, any sane person would probably question how this cat was talking. Though, instead, ‘S’s first response was more of an immediate retort, “I ain't that pompous jerkwad!! I just so happen to look like the bastard!” The remark was then followed by him planting a hoof on his face, “God, I hate this place…”

The bartender rolls his eyes, cleaning a glass that he was holding to with a free rag. “It's not towards you, personally. You wouldn't believe the amount of royalty dickheads that would try to get my bar evicted just for ‘being an eyesore’ or getting a pinch of dirt on their clothes.”

The cat sets the glass down, eyeing over him and letting out a groan. “Unlike them, you look like shit…”

Then, in a surprising move, he motions it over to him, “Care for a drink?”

The question was unexpected. Yet, it was the first sign of any sort of hospitality he was given ever since arriving here. Perhaps this was fate’s weird way of saying things would get better?

Probably not. ‘S’ wasn’t really the superstitious type to begin with. If anything, he probably thought that finding this place was just him somehow being lucky.

“What do you have?”

“That depends on you and your tastes. Though, I would think that you would prefer something more straightforward and to the point?”

Again, he was right. I mean, after running from the harmony bearers for several days, he’d have anything as long as he had the chance to get some peace and quiet.

“Do you have any Scotch?”

Oh, he likes whiskey? Would’ve thought that he would ask for something like Cider.

That was actually going to be his second choice. But luckily, it seemed the bar cat actually had it. Even put some rocks on it to keep it cold as he slid it over to him.

Though, with the drink came a question. One that some could deem as ‘unexpected’. “So, do you have a name? You were losing your damn mind earlier about how you look like a bastard, but who are you really?”

As soon as that question was asked, an answer was provided. “My name is Samuel.”

Damn it, I knew the name started with an S. Why couldn’t I think of that one?

That’s not relevant. At least we have a proper name to call him now.

Samuel takes a slow sip from the drink, trying to savor a taste he thought was forgotten. After a moment or so, he stopped and looked at the cat. “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Does it really matter? My story’s rather boring anyways,” he shrugged. Though, after a moment or so of Samuel staring at him, the cat caved, “Once a bartender, lost a bet and had to wear this stupid hat,” he motions a claw to the little top hat that was wedged between his ears, “Now, I’m some… cat demon thing and still a bartender.”

“I asked for a name.”

“And I barely remember it, given how god damn long it's been,” he swears, moving his claws to a dish towel to clean another glass. “I go by Husk now, since that’s… pretty much what I am. A husk of what I used to be. Now I’m just a grumpy cat thing who owns a bar.”

Given everything that Samuel had to go through for the last few days, that sounded like a complete understatement. Like, Husk here would stand out more than he did. So, how exactly did he keep what he assumed was a rather low profile?

Maybe his overall grumpiness kind of just shooed away any visitors? Husk does kind of give off the kind of presence of an old man shouting at kids to get the hell off his lawn. Damn whippersnappers.

Still, it didn’t seem like Samuel really paid any mind. Slowly, he savored each sip of his drink while occasionally asking a couple of questions here and there. Now that he didn’t have to run off and find a place to hunker down, he felt a bit more at ease. He didn’t have to be constantly looking over his shoulder to see if anypony was following him and that was a relief.

Now, Husk did try to ask a couple of questions to him. You know, as a way to converse with his one and only customer at this hour? I mean, it was either that or trying to get the broken jukebox to work and there was no way that was happening.

But Samuel… wasn’t so keen on answering. I mean, after what he had been through both before he came here and during the endless chase moments after arriving, who would be open to sharing about it? Husk was a bartender, not a therapist.

Unfortunately, before he had the chance to ask for another one, he noticed Husk move from his stool and look to the window, “Aw shit.”

“Huh?”

“We’re about to have unwanted company and you probably don’t want to be seen by them,” Husk grit his teeth, before he pulled back a rectangular rug that was behind the bar. Under that was a hatch that led into what may be considered a basement, “Get in.”

Samuel immediately did what he was told, but not before downing what was left of his drink first. The moment he was inside, Husk immediately slammed the cellar hatch closed and hastily covered it up again. From down in the basement, Samuel’s eyes drifted around the room. Barrels and kegs of different beers and ciders were down here, along with bottled wines, spirits, and whiskey.

There were also other crates that didn’t look to have anything to do with Alcohol either. Curiosity tempted him to look… but then, voices from upstairs soon caught his attention.

“Excuse m-me, Mr. Cat… D-do you know where the owner is?”

Uh oh. It’s the shy cream pony from earlier. The one with the butterflies.

“Yes, I am the owner,” Husk corrected her, “Always have been.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Y-you see, I-”

“Before you start, could you explain why the pink one that I previously BANNED from my establishment is trying to find a way to peek through my window?”

Oh, by the endless void, the party one’s here. Even she’s outside the bounds of what we can determine in this story.

“W-wait, Pinkie’s… not allowed? Why?”

Oh, Husk knew exactly why. You see, remember that sign we mentioned earlier? The one that we said had the rules listed? Well, our grouchy bartender has eight specific rules that any customer of his establishment is supposed to follow, with no exceptions. Fail to do so and you will get thrown out to the curb.

Some rules are rather straightforward. No discrimination, you break it- you pay for it, him having the right to refuse service to anyone. Just standard procedure.

But there was one rule that was specifically put in place that the pink party pony outside named Pinkie Pie saw as a crime, other than sugar free cookies. That being ‘The Nine Lives Tavern is NOT a party venue, no matter how many times you ask or what the occasion is’. 

From Pinkie’s point of view, she would’ve thought that the rule was targeted specifically at her. But for Husk, she wasn’t the only one who had asked. Just the final straw on the matter.

“Just be grateful that unlike your other friends, I can at least tolerate you. Now, what do you want?”

Samuel listened as he heard the all too familiar story being repeated again and again. How he was a ‘villain’ that escaped them, who would hurt ponies and that they needed to find him before causing anymore trouble. Which sounds reasonable if you’re any other pony talking about it, but bullshit to him.

He had never even been given the chance to say his piece at all. Nobody wanted to listen. In fact, the only one who ever listened to him was the cat at the bar right now.

Speaking of said cat, they interrupted the pegasus mid speech with a drawn out groan, “Look, if you think that some creature like that snuck in here, you are looking in the wrong place. I’ve just been minding my own damn business for the last twenty minutes and was just about to get some sleep, only for you to come knocking at my door. Barely any creature visits me unless they’re either here for a drink or trying to get me evicted and you’re not either of them.”

“W-well, w-would you-”

“For all I know, this creature you’re talking about must be afraid because you scared them shitless. I mean, for how dangerous you make them sound, they never really seemed to put up a fight. They probably ran out of town, if I have to take a guess.”

Funny enough, that was something that Fluttershy didn’t really want to admit, but the mare knew was right to an extent. Yet, such a subject would lead to quarrels among her and her friends for certain.

The sound of hooves against the floor was heard afterwards along with the locking of a door as Samuel could only let out a sigh of relief. Yet, despite him avoiding danger, there was another problem that chose to rear its ugly head.

It was the hangover from his drink… and the loss of consciousness that followed afterwards.



When Samuel’s eyes opened again, the cold concrete floor was the first thing to greet him. His vision was blurry as well as his memory of mostly everything after a certain point. Wasn’t sure if it was the scotch or it was the first time since ending up in this world that he could properly sleep.

Probably both, from the looks of things.

Before he could even get up or say anything, a voice was heard. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

Parts of his vision began to center and realign at that point. About several feet in front of him, there was a chair with its back facing towards him. As it swiveled around, the same feline figure from the night before just so happened to be sitting there… patiently. His gaze was like that of a predator waiting for their next meal.

“There was something I was meaning to discuss with you before you fell face first into the floor the other night,” he said, emotions stoic as he lowered his head, “That being your payment.”

And here comes a complication. You see… despite being in the body of a diabolical bastard king, Samuel here did not have any form of currency on him. He had been more focused on running from the ‘Elements of Harmony’ for the past few weeks to even think about it.

“You see, I don’t allow those who come to my establishment to just walk out whenever they please. If they want anything from here, they need to pay for it, no exceptions,” the cat moved closer, “I’m someone who prefers to not have lingering… unpaid… debts.”

Weakly, Samuel stood up and tried to speak. Though, his sluggish demeanor at the moment did not quite help him in any regard, “I-I don’t… have-”

“I’m not taking your money, for you clearly don’t have any,” the bartender corrected him, straightening his small hat, “Instead, I wish to make you an offer. One that I am only saying once, so you better listen carefully.”

Husk patiently waited a bit for the umbrum to be somewhat coherent before going further into detail. But once he did, Samuel listened to every word he said clearly.

Now, we won’t be going deep into this. So, for all those reading or listening. So, let’s summarize it in the simplest of terms.

Basically, instead of bits, Husk wanted his services. If he wasn’t going to pay in money, he would clear his debt by working for him. The cat needed extra helping hands aside from his ‘partners’ to help run the bar, so if Samuel was able to prove that he could do this, then any debts that he owed would be wiped clean and he would keep the self proclaimed ‘Harmony Police’ off his back.

Of course, Samuel could just easily walk away. But as Husk was explaining his choices to him, the cat made it abundantly clear that if he did, worse things would come after him and the cycle of running away would just start all over again.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. The worst predicament, but what choice did he really have?

“If you need some time to think this over, then go ahead and-”

Luckily, Husk didn’t even need to finish what he was going to say in order to get the answer he wanted to hear, “I’ll do it.”

A wide grin was seen on the cat’s face as their wings stretched out a bit. “Then welcome to the Nine Lives Tavern, kiddo. Get yourself cleaned up first. Once you’re ready. then I’ll show you the ropes.”