//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 
// Story: Near Death Experience 
// by Hadles 
//------------------------------//

Few things in life mattered to Pale Hoof. He had existed – not lived, but existed – since Equestria first rose up out of the sea. Time moved quickly for him. Empires rose and fell beneath his hooves. Tiny saplings became mighty forests in the blink of an eye. The mortal world was forever in flux. To him, it was like a play where the director brought in new actors and new props for every scene. No face ever appeared twice. Pale Hoof remembered all the faces and names he'd claimed over the many millions of years that this planet hurtled through the abyss. He could count a thousand ponies with blue hides and yellow manes, a thousand ponies with glasses, a thousand ponies with pinwheel shaped cutie-marks. Pinwheel, the pony he now devoted his attentions to, was not a unique mare. However, he did not see her as simply one of the endless souls he collected on a daily basis. She was one of the very few who'd earned a second chance from him. Those ponies had a special place in Pale Hoof's crusty, ancient void of heart. However, even among those unique equines, Pinwheel stood out. Pinwheel was the only pony ever to earn not one, but two second chances.

PERHAPS I AM TOO LENIENT. Pale Hoof thought as he hauled Pinwheel's body through the Ponyville square. He had the tip of her tail in his mouth, dragging her along the ground like a toy. Whenever she hit a bump, her body jumped like a dying fish. A wet trail of blood colored the street in her wake. HOW MANY CHANCES SHOULD ONE PONY GET?

These thoughts bothered Pale Hoof in a way he'd never experienced. Certainly, he had infinite power to take and restore life as he chose, but there were primordial, unspoken laws in Equestria that even he had to follow. Celestia obeyed them unflinchingly. When her sister threatened to upset the natural order, she was banished without remorse (or so it appeared to him). Right now, Pale Hoof was flagrantly defying these ancient laws, just like Luna. What would become of him?

The sun set gently over the rooftops of Ponyville. Pale Hoof came to a stop outside the charming outdoor café in the square. A lone waiter stood over the tables, collecting the silverware for cleaning. He paused when he saw Pale Hoof, his mouth dropping open. Silverware clattered noisily on the cobblestones. "HELLO." Pale Hoof began, nodding to the waiter, "TABLE FOR TWO PLEASE."

The waiter said nothing. His eyes jumped between Pale Hoof's face and Pinwheel's bloody body. "Is…is that mare dead?" The waiter finally gasped, color draining from his face.

Pale Hoof glanced down at Pinwheel, then back at the waiter. "WE'RE HERE FOR A ROMANTIC DINNER."

"Oh…Oh Celestia…" The waiter gasped, turning faintly green. He stumbled backward, tripping over the edge of the tablecloth and landing on his rump, "Don't…don't come any closer!" Legs flailing, the waiter scrambled to his feet and galloped swiftly away, not pausing to look back. Pale Hoof let out an icy sigh. Dragging Pinwheel to the table, he propped her up at one end, straightened the table cloth, and sat down opposite her. With a wave of his hoof, he lit the candles. The wicks exploded with unholy green fire.

"I BELIEVE THIS IS WHAT YOU PONIES CALL DISCRIMINATION." He said to the corpse. Her head lolled loosely on her neck, "LIVE PONIES ARE THE SAME AS DEAD PONIES. AND YET THEY REFUSE US SERVICE. HOW RUDE."

The corpse, naturally, did not reply. Pale Hoof didn't expect it to. The green light cast a sickly glow on Pinwheel's yellow mane. Flies buzzed around her head. Pale Hoof was silent for several moments, simply staring at the corpse. Reaching over, he knocked Pinwheel's head with his hoof. Her head flopped. He poked her again. No matter how many times he prodded her, she didn't respond.

Pale Hoof lowered his head. He was still for a moment, trying to figure out what was wrong. He had the candles and the sunset. The giant red sun loomed heavy and hazy in the sky. Lacy, pink clouds rolled across the orange heavens. A few bats fluttered from the rooftops. Pale Hoof rubbed his chin with a hoof. According to Pinwheel's definition, this was romantic – a candlelit dinner at sunset. Yet…

"THIS ISN'T ROMANTIC AT ALL." He concluded. Rising from his seat, he bit the tip of Pinwheel's tail and dragged her from her seat. What was he doing wrong? Pausing, he mentally listed the things Pinwheel called romantic: candlelit dinners, sunset walks, dancing, and kissing. He had all the right components for a romantic evening, yet it still fell flat. Somewhere along the way, he'd made a mistake.

Pale Hoof dragged Pinwheel down the street, deep in thought. The sky faded from orange to purple and finally to a deep blue. Pinprick stars glowed in the heavens. The Ponyville clock tower struck eight. Passing Sugarcube Corner, Pale Hoof caught a whiff of fudge baking. Lights still shined in the windows of the bakery. Mr. and Mrs. Cake had not yet turned the 'open' sign to 'closed'. If he could, Pale Hoof would have smiled. There was still a chance to save the date. Mares loved chocolate. Turning, he strode slowly to the bakery and scraped the front door with his hoof. After a few moments, the door pulled back to reveal Mrs. Cake, dressed in a fluffy cherry bathrobe, ready for bed. When she saw Pale Hoof, her pupils shrank. Her pink hair, normally piled high on her head in a swirled pompadour, fell droopily around her shoulders. "Oh…It's you…" Mrs. Cake muttered. Her eyes fell down to Pinwheel. She gasped sharply, "Is…is that a corpse? Uh…uh…we're closed!" With that, she made to slam the door, but Pale Hoof shoved his hoof in to jam it. Pushing back, he forced his way inside.

"I SMELL CHOCOLATE."

Mrs. Cake let out a squeal. Darting away from the door, she charged up the stairs, shouting her husband's name. "Carrot! Carrot!" She shrieked, "That awful death pony brought a corpse in our shop!"

Pale Hoof paused in the doorway. Enticing smells drew him toward the kitchen. There, the day's last batch of fudge sat cooling. Just as he started inside, a gasp sounded from behind him. Slowly, creakily, Pale Hoof turned his head. There, in the street, stood a cream colored pegasus. A scowl of disgust twisted her muzzle. "I knew this would happen." She growled, lowering her head like a bull about to charge. Her curly dark pink mane flopped in her face, covering hateful maroon eyes, "Let her go! Right now!"

"WHO ARE YOU?" Pale Hoof boomed. The pegasus stamped her hooves.

"I'm Pinwheel's REAL friend! Now let her go!" The pegasus shouted.

Realization dawned on Pale Hoof. "DIZZY TWIST."

"Yeah, that's right, buster. You better put Pinwheel down right now or I'm calling the cops!" Dizzy threatened, scraping her hoof against the cobblestones.

"WHY?"

Dizzy balked at him. "What do you mean, 'why'?" She spat, "You're dragging her body around like a bag of trash, you bony freak! I knew this would happen. I can't believe you're parading her around town like some…some gross trophy! That's sick. That's worse than sick!"

Pale Hoof glanced down at Pinwheel. "WHY? NOTHING ABOUT HER HAS CHANGED. SHE HAS THE SAME WEIGHT, THE SAME HEIGHT. HER PELT IS BLUE, HER MANE IS YELLOW. WHAT IS DIFFERENT?"

"She's DEAD!" Dizzy yelled, "You KILLED her! You KILLED your own marefriend!"

"IT IS BETTER THIS WAY. IF SHE IS DECEASED, MY TOUCH WILL NOT HARM HER."

"Won't harm her? You've already harmed her! Just go away!" Dizzy shouted. Her words echoed between the empty buildings, filling the street with her voice. Shutters opened. Sleepy ponies peered out of their windows. Mr. and Mrs. Cake huddled in the back of the bakery, crouching behind the glass display case. Seeing the onlookers, a cruel smile spread over Dizzy's face. She threw back her head and began to scream, "HELP! HELP! MURDER! MURDERER ON THE LOOSE!" She yelled, stamping her hooves on the ground. Ponies gasped. A few ventured out onto the street, craning their necks to get a better view.

Pale Hoof ground his teeth. "BE SILENT." He growled.

"MURDER! MURDERER ON THE LOOSE! GET THE GUARDS! HURRY!" Dizzy continued screaming, turning now to shout at the ponies in their houses. A handful ran off in search of the armored pegasi. Pale Hoof advanced from the bakery door, Pinwheel's tail falling from his mouth.

"I SAID, BE QUIET." He reiterated coolly. Dizzy continued to shout.

"MURDER! MURDER! GET THE GUARDS!"

"SHUT UP!" With a burst of unholy speed, Pale Hoof pounced on Dizzy. Sparks of green lightning flashed over his body, disintegrating his flesh and fur to reveal putrid bone. His great bony wings erupted from his back, sending showers of emerald sparks rippling along the cobblestones. The sparks devoured anypony who drew near, sundering flesh and leaving charred corpses in their wake. Only Dizzy was spared. He bore down on her, mouth gaping as if to swallow her whole. Dizzy fell back on her rump, tears spilling freely from her eyes.

"P-please…" She muttered. Pale Hoof's jaw yawned widely, whispering black mists spilling from his gullet. He loomed closer, his huge maw nearly around Dizzy's head.

"STOP!" A bright flash illuminated the dark street. Pale Hoof felt a sudden impact like a punch to the stomach. He fell hard on his side. When the light faded, he was back in his fleshy mortal form. As he rose, his knees quaked. He could barely stand for shaking. Weakly, he looked up. There, at the end of the street, stood Princess Celestia, her wide white wings at full spread. The tip of her horn shined with a blazing light that Pale Hoof could hardly bear to look at, "I will not allow this!"

"CELESTIA…" Pale Hoof wheezed. Her light made him sick to his stomach. As she approached, he collapsed back on his side.

Celestia looked over the charred bones of Pale Hoof's victims. "Revive them. Now." She commanded. Weakly, Pale Hoof rose again. Stumbling over to the corpses, he lowered his head and breathed their souls back inside them. Flesh re-grew over their charred bones and, in a moment, they were alive again. Eyes rolling and tongues lolling, they lurched to their feet like zombies. They hobbled about weakly for a few moments before regaining their balance. As soon as they were able to stand again, they darted fearfully away from Pale Hoof. Watching the newly revived ponies, Celestia nodded and dimmed the light on her horn. Pale Hoof let out a pained gasp. With the holy light dimmed, he felt the strength return to his limbs. Dizzy scurried away, vanishing into the crowd of ponies gawking at the princess.

Pale Hoof gazed over his shoulder at her. "WHY…" He rasped, "…ARE YOU HERE?"

Two pegasi guards flanked Celestia. Bowing, one of them presented her with a scroll. Unfurling the letter magically, Celestia scanned it then turned to Pale Hoof. She cast it down at his feet. On the paper, Pale Hoof could see the Mayor's signature. "The mayor wrote to me, saying you were here and that you'd made friends with a mortal mare." Celestia sighed. Her eyes were hard and bright, "I expected to find you a changed colt. But instead…I find this."

"THIS IS NOT YOUR CONCERN."

"The events of Equestria are absolutely my concern!" Celestia boomed, "What you have done here is a travesty!"

Pale Hoof looked around. He let out a bitter chuckle. "THIS…" He hissed, "IS NOTHING."

"You will be silent." Celestia's eyes darted over to the bakery. Pinwheel lay sprawled on the front step, still as a stone, "That pony…why is she still dead?"

"He killed her!" Someone in the crowd shouted. Pale Hoof turned just in time to see Dizzy vanish back into the mass of ponies.

Celestia grew very still. "Is this true?"

Pale Hoof gazed at Pinwheel's corpse. "YES."

"Bring her back."

"NO."

"Do it." Celestia insisted.

"YOU MAY BE THE QUEEN OF THIS LAND, CELESTIA, BUT YOU DO NOT RULE OVER ME." Pale Hoof growled, "I WILL NOT RESTORE HER."

Celestia's expression hardened. "And why not?"

"IF I REVIVE HER, THEN…" Pale Hoof's voice dropped to a whisper, "WE'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO HAVE A ROMANTIC DATE…"

Celestia's eyes widened. Slowly, she advanced toward the corpse draped over the bakery stoop. Lowering her head, she flipped Pinwheel over with her horn. Frowning, she gazed at the little blue mare. Red gashes glowed on Pinwheel's chin and belly, places where the cobblestones scraped away her fur. "This poor pony…" She whispered. Turning her head sharply, she glared at Pale Hoof, "Am I to believe this is truly the object of your affections?"

Pale Hoof was silent for a moment. "YES."

"I thought you had changed, but you have not." Celestia sighed, "You're the same as you were a thousand years ago." Her pastel colored mane flowed behind her as she turned and approached Pale Hoof. Pale Hoof stumbled backward. She gazed at him sadly, "Come with me to Canterlot."

"NO."

"Matters of Equestria fall under my jurisdiction, Pale Hoof. You are in my lands, so you must follow my orders."

"DON'T FORGET WHO GRANTED YOU YOUR IMMORTALITY, CELESTIA." Pale Hoof hissed.

Celestia let out a deep sigh. "Please."

Pale Hoof glanced surreptitiously toward the corpse. He couldn't just leave Pinwheel alone here. There was no telling what these panicked ponies would do to her. "BRING THE BODY."

"If we must." Celestia nodded to her guards. Gingerly, they approached the corpse. Carefully, they lifted it into the air, carrying it between them. Pale Hoof watched intently as they moved Pinwheel, not once taking his eyes off them. Gazing steadily at Pale Hoof, Celestia lifted delicately into the air. Pale Hoof followed, his dark wings materializing from his spine. The four of them flew silently into the night.




"Are you guys sure you know where we're going?"

Thunderhead turned around to face Pinwheel, walking backwards into the abyss. "Trust us; we're substitute reapers." Philomel giggled quietly, hiding her mouth with her hoof. Thunderhead gave a big, goofy grin and continued, "And…because we're official substitute reapers, we have official substitute reaper powers."

Pinwheel narrowed her eyes at him. "And just what are these official substitute reaper powers?"

Thunderhead's teeth were big and white. "Give me a moment and I'll show you! Want to help me out here, Phil?" He turned back around, tugging on Philomel's substitute reaper cloak. Philomel giggled again, swatting him playfully with her hoof. Seeing them made Pinwheel feel warm inside. Here they were, both smiling and laughing despite their gruesome deaths. They acted as though being 'substitute reapers' was a treat, not a curse. Philomel paused in her tracks and turned toward Thunderhead. She lifted a sparkling cream hoof. Nodding, Thunderhead lifted the same hoof, touching his foot to hers. Closing their eyes, they began whisper. Their words were inaudible but, even if Pinwheel could hear them clearly, she doubted that she'd understand what they were saying. The void around them sparked and thundered like a roiling storm cloud. Pinwheel took a few skittish steps back.

A green bolt of lightning burst from the abyss and ripped the air asunder. The bolt struck and tore a gash in the very fabric of the realm. Pinwheel let out a sharp gasp, shielding her eyes. Pale light poured from the chasm. Tentatively, Pinwheel approached it. Through the gash, she could see starlight. "Is that…Equestria?" She breathed. Looking down, she could see sprawling green fields and tall purple mountains, all awash in moonlight.

"Righto!" Thunderhead answered cheerily, "This realm lies right on top of Equestria. The reaper has the power to open up gateways between the realms. If you're really dating the boss, you should've seen him do it a couple o' times already."

Pinwheel's thought flashed back to their first date and how Pale Hoof had dramatically dropped from the sky. "Yeah. I have. What'll happen if I go through it?" Experimentally, Pinwheel lifted her hoof and jabbed the air inside the portal. Nothing happened.

"Erm. Nothing." Thunderhead answered.

"We think." Philomel added.

"Right. You should be safe as long as we're careful. We're…not actually supposed to do this, ya know. We're just supposed to mind the realm while Death's gone. But since you're the boss's date, well, I don't think he'd mind." Thunderhead grinned awkwardly, "Anyway, don't go through that portal. We'll make one above Ponyville so you can get home. Ya still live there, right?"

Pinwheel smiled. "Right. So you can find Ponyville in this realm?"

"Sure! Thanks to the Reaper powers, we can kinda see through the darkness into Equestria. It's jus' a matter of finding Ponyville an' rippin' open a portal!" Thunderhead declared cheerfully. With another wave of his hoof, he sealed the first portal and motioned for Pinwheel to follow, "Won't take long, I promise."

"I trust you."

"Great. Hopefully, your trust is well placed." Thunderhead chuckled, strutting about and continuing into the void. Philomel tittered quietly and trailed after him. Pinwheel came last, watching their backs as they sauntered forth. Their reaper cloaks weren't pitch black like Death's, but tinted faintly with color. Philomel's had a hint of pink and Thunderhead's a hint of red, "Like I said, we aren't supposed to do this. And, uh…my aim isn't so good."

Pinwheel stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean, 'aim'?"

"We'll have to use our reaper powers to propel you through the portal into Ponyville. Like a slingshot. It takes a lot of power to move between realms. You can't simply step through." Philomel answered quietly. Pinwheel swallowed hard.

"So…uh…how much longer til we're over Ponyville?" Pinwheel licked her lips, throat suddenly dry. Sweat prickled on the back of her neck.

Thunderhead glanced over his shoulder at her. "Oh, don't look so frightened! We can do it. Besides, you're already dead. What's the worst that could happen?"

"The trauma of being propelled into another realm unprepared could shatter her soul." Philomel answered helpfully, "You know that, Thunderhead."

Thunderhead's grin turned into a grimace. "Oooooh…forgot about that one." He turned his gaze back to Pinwheel, "But, uh…that doesn't happen often. Or so I'm told. But, you know, just be aware! We're not permanent reapers – we don't even have all the powers! – but we'll do our best to get ya home safe."

Pinwheel's jaw tensed. "It's…good to be well-informed…" She replied through gritted teeth, "I guess…"