This time for sure! - by Mizuko's Author
Wispy Willow navigated the streets of Trottingham’s outskirts en route to his next haunted destination, his packed saddlebag bouncing against his side in response to his merry gait while his camera swayed wildly around his neck.
The cloudless sky allowed the full moon to shine brightest, bathing the landscape in an eerie, yet majestic glow. It was fitting, Wispy decided. He was embarking on the most promising lead in his entire tenure as a semi-professional paranormal investigator — it should be as spooky as naturally possible.
At one point he passed by an old cemetery nestled in front of a dense-looking forest. A slight mist rose through the trees, giving the entire scene a delightfully nightmarish appearance. Through the fence’s iron bars, he could make out some names on the front-most tombstones.
Static Shower… Proper Prim… Candy Ca—
Wispy was interrupted by a sudden impact from his front, causing him to stumble backwards before landing on his rump in a daze. His saddlebag popped open in the scuffle, spilling all his ghost-hunting gear over the sidewalk in a brief cacophony of clinks and clanks.
“NO!” he shouted.
He quickly got up to all fours, shaking his head to clear the stars from his vision. He saw a blue, earth pony mare in front of him — college-aged by her appearance — rubbing her head with a hoof, her mouth set in a pained grimace. After a few seconds she recovered, getting up and facing him with an apologetic frown.
“I’m sorry,” she said, hanging her head so her bangs obscured one eye. “I didn’t see you coming.”
But Wispy was too busy gathering his equipment and inspecting each piece for damage to pay her any attention. Everything he found appeared to be unharmed, but panicked when he couldn’t find his EMF detector. Frantically, he jerked his head every which way, trying in vain to find his most important device.
“Um, here it is?”
He turned toward the mare, and smiled wide at the sight of his detector balanced on her hoof.
“Oh, thank Celestia!” he said, and took it back from her. “This is the only EMF detector I have; I’d be well beyond screwed without it.”
The mare tilted her head, confusion rising in response to what he’d called the device. Why would anypony need an electromagnetic field detector so late at night, or at all outside of a science lab?
Satisfied that the detector was also undamaged, Wispy stowed it back into his saddlebag — making sure it was closed extra tight this time — and stood up, facing past the mare with a smile that looked almost maniacal in the pale moonlight. “Glen Oaks manor, here I come!” he said, and started walking forward.
The mare’s eyes bulged and her mouth opened in shock. “Wait, you’re not actually thinking of going into that place, are you?” she asked, her voice coming out in a half-whisper.
“Yep,” Wispy said, not even looking at her as he passed by. “Sorry I can’t stay to chat, I gotta get there with enough time to set everything up long before dawn.”
“But you can’t go there!”
Wispy glanced over his shoulder with a confident smile. “Anyplace that has ghosts is a place for me,” he said, and resumed his merry gait.
“Wait!” the mare shouted, and began following him.
She followed Wispy all the way to Glen Oaks manor, constantly pleading for him not to go inside. It’s too dangerous, she said. Ponies have gotten hurt from entering, she argued. All pops and buzzers to Wispy’s ears. Everything he’d learned about the place had him convinced he’d find substantial proof that ghosts exist if he went inside, and nothing short of the Apocalypse would stop him from his mission to do just that.
His face broke into a wide smile the instant Glen Oaks manor came into view. Everything about the place screamed ‘Haunted!’. Ornate architecture. Decrepit walls. Miles upon miles of ivy coating said walls. Broken windows everywhere. If there was ever a place for ghosts to haunt, it was here.
“Alright, first things first,” he said upon reaching the locked front gate. He opened his saddlebag and dug around for a second before pulling out his bolt cutters.
“Are you crazy!?” the mare asked, alarmed. Her expression was a mix between incredulity and panic as she watched Wispy apply the bolt cutters to the gate’s lock. “What if you get caught?”
“You’re the only person who knows what I’m doing, and besides, no one’s gonna care if I break into an abandoned house,” Wispy replied. He pressed hard on the cutters, to which the chain locking the fence easily broke with a sharp, metallic snap and clattered to the ground. Smiling, he put the bolt cutters back in his saddlebag and opened the gate.
“But why do you need to go into this specific house?” The mare stepped in front of Wispy, forcing him to look at her and see the genuine worry in her eyes. “Isn’t there an alternative?”
Wispy stared at her for a good long moment, silently wondering why she was so insistent on convincing him to abandon his mission. It wouldn’t work, he knew, but the thought nagged him regardless.
Finally, after breathing an exasperated sigh, he gave a reply. “Listen, Miss…?”
“Mizuko.”
“Listen Mizuko, I have a task to perform. Finding proof of ghosts is my special talent, see?” He pointed to his wispy film strip cutie mark. “Everything I’ve read about that house says it’s inhabited by ghosts, and I won’t leave until I’ve found and obtained proof of their existence!” he shouted with a hard, passionate stomp against the pavement. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He trotted past her, keeping his gaze focused squarely on the manor ahead, his face beaming as he began imagining what sorts of phenomena he might witness inside.
Frowning, Mizuko looked to the front gate and the street beyond. Then she looked to the stallion walking up to the manor. Then back to the gate. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to her before she finally decided on what to do.
She followed him.
Another quick use of the bolt cutters was enough to dispatch the front door’s lock, to which it easily creaked open.
Stepping inside, Wispy and Mizuko gave the entrance foyer a cursory observation. Cobwebs in every corner. Dust covering every surface. A few cracked picture frames hanging on the walls. At the top of the stairs in front of them was a shattered stained-glass window, through which the moon shone, lighting up the foyer in its radiant glow. On either side of them was an entrance to another room. The large, cloth-covered table through the left one indicated it was the dining room, while the various armchairs and bookshelf through the right entrance suggested a study of sorts.
Wispy sucked in a deep, dust-ridden breath of air, then let it out with a contented sigh as a satisfied smile stretched across his face. “Yes, this is perfect.” He slipped off his saddlebag and let it drop to the floor. The vibration it made caused a small lick of plastering to drop from the ceiling a few feet away.
“I’ve heard this place hasn’t been maintained since the original owners passed away about thirty years ago,” Mizuko said. Her gaze trailed up to the ceiling where she spied several cracks in the plastering, to which a worried frown crossed her lips. “This place could fall down on us if we aren’t careful.”
“I’ve been in many run down houses before,” Wispy replied while he pulled a few audio recorders out of his saddlebag, carefully stacking them on his back. “I know what I’m doing.” He turned and headed toward the dining room.
“Where are you going?” Mizuko asked.
“To set these—” He gestured to his audio recorders, “—up around this place.”
Mizuko stepped forward. “I’ll come with you,” she said, softly.
Wispy shrugged. “Sure, whatever.” He continued onward into the dining room, Mizuko following right behind.
Wispy walked around the table before stopping near the center. After blowing away some accumulated dust, he gently set down the first audio recorder and pressed ‘Rec’.
“That's one down,” he said.
“How many more do you need to set up?” Mizuko asked.
“I’ve got seven more recorders,” Wispy replied. He rubbed his chin, staring inquisitively around the room, or rather, at the rest of the manor beyond. “Should be enough to cover all the important rooms here,” he muttered.
Mizuko nodded. “Alright then.”
They spent the next hour traveling from room to room, stopping occasionally to place a recorder in places Wispy deemed significant enough. The floor kept creaking and groaning under their hooves as they walked, and the fear of it opening up and dropping them to their deaths stayed with Mizuko the whole time, whereas Wispy never so much as glanced downward. Every now and then he would excitedly rattle on about paranormal mumbo-jumbo that always flew right over Mizuko’s head. Most of the time, however, she was too busy observing the manor — keeping her eyes peeled for any potential hazards — as they went along to pay him any real attention. She didn’t care whether ghosts were real or not, but if he managed to find proof of their existence here, then she’d be happy for him.
Finally, they came full circle into the study next to the entrance foyer. Wispy set the last recorder down on a table and turned it on.
“Alright, I’m all set on that front,” he said with a satisfactory nod. He then opened up his saddlebag and pulled out his EMF detector. “Now for the main course.”
Turning the device on, he exited the study into the foyer, Mizuko still following him. The numbers displayed on the device changed constantly as he moved, but always stayed within the standard range for EMF readings. Only when he pointed it towards the ceiling did the numbers show a significant increase.
Wispy’s face lit with joy. “Oh yeah, now we're getting somewhere!” he shouted, rearing his hooves back in his excitement.
The force of his hooves hitting the floor shook the whole room, causing another, larger lick of plaster to fall from the ceiling. Mizuko shot her panicked gaze up, ready to cover her head if the ceiling fell, but it stayed intact. She breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to Wispy. “How much longer is this going to take?” she asked, exasperated.
“Until I get my proof,” he answered, and began walking toward the stairs. “And if these numbers are anything to go by—” he waved the EMF detector a little, “—I’ll find it directly upstairs.”
“But it isn’t safe!” Mizuko quickly trotted ahead and cut off Wispy, to which he leveled an annoyed stare at her. She pointed above to the various cracks lining the ceiling, some of which were now larger and farther spread than they’d been when the two first entered the manor. “The floor above is clearly unstable; any more weight could send us crashing through.”
Wispy rubbed the bridge of his muzzle while his features scrunched up, showing off his growing frustration. “If you’re so concerned that it isn’t safe then just leave,” he said.
“If I left and something bad happened to you, I could never forgive myself.” Mizuko’s eyes turned downcast for a moment, her entire face gaining a sorrowful edge, before looking back up to him. “Is finding proof of ghosts really worth risking your life over?”
“Yes,” Wispy said, flatly.
Mizuko’s eyes bulged out. “Wha—HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT!?” A sudden onslaught of exhaustion washed over her; it was the first time she’d shouted in a long while. She continued at a lower volume. “How can you put so little value in your own life!?”
Wispy rolled his eyes. “You’re talking like it’s a guarantee that I’ll die if I go up there.” He tried to walk around her, but Mizuko stepped in his way again, to which he glared daggers at her. “I’ll do what I want with my own life,” he said, his tone one of finality.
Mizuko’s eyebrows furrowed a little as she gave her reply. “Even if it’s spent chasing something that may or may not even exist?”
Time seemed to slow down as Wispy processed what she'd just said. Before long, a roaring inferno lit in his eyes while his mouth twisted into a deep scowl that revealed his gritted teeth, through which his seething breaths blew at Mizuko's bangs. His breaking point had finally been reached.
“Ghosts. Are. Real!” He punctuated the last word by rearing his front hooves back and slamming them hard against the floor.
crack
Both ponies’ ears flicked upwards at the sound. They craned their necks up just in time to see a large section of the ceiling plummeting down towards them. Mizuko shrieked, ducking with her head covered, while Wispy rolled to the side. The section of ceiling crashed to the ground right in between them, kicking up a large cloud of accumulated dust that obscured everything for several seconds.
“Are you alright?” Mizuko asked once the dust settled.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wispy replied between some coughs. Getting back to his hooves, he fetched his flashlight from his saddlebag and clicked it on, pointing it at the new gaping hole in the ceiling. “Crap,” he said, breathing a frustrated sigh.
“At least we weren’t hurt,” Mizuko said, getting to her hooves as well and looking up towards the hole. The room above was pitch black, and even Wispy’s flashlight wasn’t able to breach it to illuminate the space inside. “How come your light isn’t getting through?” she asked, perplexed.
“I don’t know,” he replied. He shined his flashlight all across the hole, inspecting the damage and trying to gauge whether the rest of the floor above was safe to traverse. “Probably just a—”
He froze. His jaw fell as he stared, awestruck, at what his light was shining at. Mizuko’s eyes shrank to pinpricks, and she began muttering nonsensical ramblings under her breath at the subject of Wispy’s awe.
A pony face.
A pony face with empty black eyes and a pasty white coat.
It peered over the hole’s edge, right down at them, unmoving except for its mouth which opened and closed rhythmically, like a goldfish. Silence reigned for several seconds, broken only by the wind whistling through the nearest broken windows.
Finally, Wispy’s mouth turned up into a smile that almost eclipsed his face. “Jackpot!” he said. He set down his EMF detector and grabbed his camera, pointing it up to the ghost pony, but it quickly slunk out of his sight before he could take any pictures. “So you’re a shy one, huh?” Wispy turned toward the staircase, but was again stopped by Mizuko. He was about to demand she let him go when he saw her point upwards with a shaking hoof. Looking up, he found himself confused, but amazed nonetheless, at what he saw.
A wall of moving, undulating shadows — illuminated well by the moonlight — crawled from the hole down the wall. Individual sections of the shadowy mass pulsed and bobbed as it moved down, quickly reaching the floor where it continued to spread. It cut off the space in front of the staircase, and then began heading toward the ponies.
“We need to get out of here,” Mizuko stammered. She grabbed Wispy’s hooves and urged him toward the door, but he shook away and took a step toward the shadows. “No, don’t!” she cried.
“They’re just shadows!” Wispy said. The shadowy mass was now a few feet from his face. “What harm can they possibly do?”
As if to answer his question, the glass casing of his flashlight burst, killing the light instantly. Startled, he let it drop to the floor right next to his EMF detector. Looking down, his eyes bulged at the numbers it was displaying.
“Let’s get outta here!”
They both swore the adrenaline literally rang in their ears while they ran outside. They never looked back, nor did they say a word to each other. They didn’t stop until they’d reached the front gate, whereupon they both used it for support while they waited to catch their breath.
“Are you alright?” Mizuko asked once they’d both calmed down.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wispy replied. He slammed a hoof against the ground. “But dammit! I was so close to getting my proof!” He slumped against the gate, falling to the pavement and burying his face in his hooves. “Hardback will never let me live this down, now...”
Mizuko stared at him, mulling over what he’d just said, before realization struck. “You wanted to prove it to your friends, didn’t you?” she asked with a sympathetic frown
Wispy nodded. “And my parents. To everyone I know, really, but they’ll think I’m a liar in addition to a fool if I tell them what happened here without proof,” he said, slumping a little more
Mizuko smiled. “I’ll vouch for you.”
Wispy lifted his gaze to her, eyes wide with surprise. “Y-you would?” he stuttered.
“I promise to.” She reached down and helped him to his hooves. “It's the truth, after all.”
Wispy was dumbfounded. This mare hadn't known him for more than a couple hours, yet she was willing to testify on his behalf about what just happened? “I-I… thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” After giving the manor one last, worrying glance, she gestured to the gate. “We’d better tell the city council about all this.”
Nodding, Wispy moved to open the gate, but paused as a thought occurred to him. “I never did give you my name, did I?”
Mizuko looked aside in thought for a moment. “... No, you didn’t, actually.”
Wispy laughed, and extended a hoof. “Wispy Willow; 'Wisp' to my friends.”
Mizuko accepted his hoof after a moment’s hesitation, shaking it with no vigor while her face split into a shy smile. “Erm, nice to meet you, Wispy.”
He smiled. “Please… call me Wisp.”
Wooden Wails - by Wispy Willow's Author
Manehattan. The largest modern city in all Equestria.
Canterlot may have been the crown jewel of the nation, and Las Pegasus the entertainment capital, but nowhere compared to the city’s towering skyscrapers and urbanity. Though ponykind celebrated harmony with nature, and its cities reflected that, here was their focus on the artificial.
However, what many ponies who had never visited the city didn’t know was that, once you left the city’s edge, the surrounding countryside was as verdant and beautiful as any other. Scattered farms fed the city, and the coast supported various trades. One of these was a tradition of pearl diving.
Manehattan pearls were known for their fine luster and blue tinge, and a great many pearl divers operated along the coast as a result. It was a competitive business, but with the developed market in the city, one could make a living with a little hard work.
One pony, however, suspected she could take an easier route.
Since coming here, Mizuko hadn’t had the best time. Yes, it was interesting, but the layout was confusing, the atmosphere stifling, and the ponies! So many ponies, everywhere, crowding and pushing… She’d come here on vacation, with plans to spend most of her time diving for pearls in between seeing the sights. Though the dives she’d taken so far had been relaxing and successful, it wasn’t enough to make staying here worth it.
Which is why she had a new plan.
Though the Manehattan coasts had lived up to their reputation in the quality of their pearls, there were still too many other divers for Mizuko’s liking. So she’d bought a map of the local geography. And there, just as she’d hoped, was a river a little north of the city, dumping into the ocean. It was risky, but with how everypony focused on the coastal pearl beds, the river was possibly a goldmine of untapped potential. Not to mention she would be alone.
So, she’d bought herself some supplies for a few days and a simple tent, wrapped the whole bundle on her back and headed north for the the river. She’d make her way inland, looking for freshwater pearls and enjoying the countryside. It was perfect.
All went according to plan for the first few days, and Mizuko sat next to her tent, enjoying breakfast. She looked to the two small satchels filled with pearls, most of impressive quality. This was definitely an untapped source, although the beds were scattered. But the walk along the river’s path was nice. She’d only come across the occasional fisher, which actually provided a pleasant little break from solitude, rather than an annoyance.
Everything considered, as she started the third day, Mizuko found herself in high spirits, pleased with the decision to leave the city. It was for this reason that she dove again and again, walking down the coast until she found another promising spot, paying little heed to the passing hours or the greying skies. Her world was her own body and the waters of the river; the pressure and release of air in her lungs surrounded by the cool, secure envelope of safety.
Safety that was shattered with a massive crakOOm as the dark skies flashed and rumbled, snapping Mizuko’s attention from the water before her to the impending shower from above.
You idiot, you didn’t plan for this... She frowned, judging the storm would be too much for her little tent. You should’ve checked the forecast!
Worse was the fact she hadn’t seen any sign of habitation in a while. What was she going to do?
Quickly, she climbed up the bank, secured her bundle to her back and headed further up the river. She knew there wasn’t anything for some distance down it, so this was her best bet. And probably about ten minutes away she could see a small forest. If all else failed, that would provide some protection.
Moving at a quick trot, she kept one eye on the woods and the other on the sky. A cool wind had picked up, and she caught a whiff of rain on it. It wouldn’t be long before it started pouring. And with increasing frequency, the flash of lightning made her flinch with every strike.
As she felt the first drops of rain hit her, Mizuko passed the first trees. She wasn’t sure how far they went, or if anypony lived nearby. It seemed unlikely, and the drops were increasing in frequency.
She’d decided to find a particularly thick copse to take shelter under when she saw something unexpected. There, straddling the river amongst the woods, was a huge wooden building. Based upon the broken windows and thick foliage growing up its walls, it was long since abandoned. It was a miracle.
Although it doesn’t look very safe… She did worry about just how safe the place was—
A particularly close bolt of lightning was followed by a terrifying BOOM, causing Mizuko to leap into the air and decide to risk it. She shot forward, struggling to find the door under the thick creepers. Running a hoof along the side, she circled the building as the rain started coming down, hard. Her coat and mane soaked through, chilling her.
At last her hoof hit a bump, and she tore away the creepers to find a door. Praying it wasn’t locked, she twisted the knob and slipped inside, slamming it behind her. She leaned against the door, breathing heavy and dripping, until her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
The room was large, rectangular. Across from her were stacks of cut lumber. Combined with the fact that it was built over the river and within the surrounding woods, she guessed this was an old lumber mill. Saws and planers lay strewn about, which she found odd. It was like the place had just suddenly been abandoned.
Ignoring that thought, she attempted to wring out her mane, then headed deeper inside. The next room she entered was even larger, and seemed to be two floors. The river cut through it, with a massive saw hanging above it. It disturbed her, so she kept looking for a better spot. She passed through another doorway and set her bundle down. Outside the storm raged, but this must’ve been close to the building’s center, as the pounding wind and rain were faint background noise. She could stay the night here, she decided.
She undid her bundle and ate a little supper. Then she wrapped the bundle around her tightly and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, she thought, I’ll go back to the city and then home. I have definitely been away too long.
Sleep found her quickly.
Wispy Willow clutched his camera tightly, anticipation making the hairs on his neck stand on end. He’d gone through so much to get to this point. He’d traversed the most dangerous terrain, his goal the most haunted castle in the nation. And here he was, at the highest room, in the tallest tower.
Down below were the remains of traps he’d trashed, monsters he’d mashed, and dangers he’d destroyed. If he went home now, he’d have a story to tell, likely bringing him fame and fortune.
But none of that mattered. It wasn’t what he’d come for, and he didn’t plan on leaving until his true goal was accomplished.
As he shouldered open the massive doors and entered the king’s chamber, his eyes scanned right and left. The room was empty, the tattered remains of a red carpet leading up to two ornate thrones. It was just as the books he’d studied had said. Now he hoped what they said about its previous owner was just as true.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Wisp could feel the castle shake, a result of its age and treacherous construction. In all honesty, the smart thing to do would be to throw down his camera and leave. It’s what his parents would tell him to do; what his ex-coworkers would tell him to do; what all those naysayers would tell him to do.
“But it’s never what Wispy Willow would do,” he said confidently, stepping into the middle of the room. “Now show yourself, Phantom King! Give me my proof!”
A raspy laugh responded, but he saw nothing. Camera ready, he circled, determined to not miss the shot. The air chilled, and he could see his breath. The ghost was manifesting… This was the most important moment and the most dangerous. Based upon the records, Wispy hadn’t been able to determine what type of ghost the king was.
A loud thump from behind made him spin, clicking his camera as fast as he could. He rushed over to a ratty curtain, still swinging where it had been disturbed. He pulled it aside, revealing a dirty window but little else. Again the laugh filled the room, taunting and irritating Wisp.
Patience, he told himself. Remember what’s at stake. This is who you are. What you do.
Ignoring the curtain, Wispy headed towards the far end of the room, suspecting the throne would be his best bet. It wasn’t much to look at, but he suspected that in its heydey the silver fixtures shone brilliantly against the soft purple cushioning, now nearly black and clearly moth-eaten.
As Wispy approached, he noticed it was growing colder and colder. And, though it could’ve been a trick of the light, his imaginings of the throne in the past seemed to be coming true. Colour was restored, and intricate wooden carvings seem to grow from their rotted present.
This is it! This is it this is it this is it!
With mounting excitement, Wispy framed the throne in his sights perfectly, just waiting for the ghost to fully manifest. Whatever happened afterwards, he would have his proof. His entire life would be vindicated. Finally.
There! That faint outline… But he paused. Something told him to wait for the full manifestation. Any sooner and he would miss his chance, forever.
Slowly, the outline began glowing a brighter, eerie blue. Just a few more seconds and he would go down in history as the first pony to capture irrefutable evidence of spiritual activity!
Kracka-BOOM!
Wispy awoke with a start, the terribly close lightning strike and its following thunder waking him. He let out a sigh as he got to his hooves. He’d had that dream for as long as he could remember. And it ended in the same place, every time.
Another flash of lightning explained what had woken him. It was storming, well, up a storm outside. He chuckled at his joke, then looked around. He saw a few tables, rusty tools and half-worked wood scattered on them.
Then it hit him.
“Oh no!” he cried. “I fell asleep!” He started fidgeting, striding back and forth, mentally beating himself up. What had he missed while he slept? There had probably been all sorts of activity, and he’d just been dreaming away, like an idiot.
After his last failure at the asylum, Wispy had decided he wasn’t ready to go to some of the more exotic places on his list. Staying within a couple days travel from Manehattan seemed safest, at least for now. He’d just have to be careful, in case of crazed, escapee unicorns…
I wonder what time it is, he thought, scratching at his back leg. He itched all over, likely from the sawdust he’d fallen asleep in. He had underestimated just how rundown the place was. But that was all the more promising. The place looked haunted, and had quite a history, so surely it was. Even though he hadn’t seen anything so far.
He decided it was nearly night and thus showtime. “First step, check the equipment,” he reminded himself as he toured the building. He’d replaced the recorder he’d lost and had all three scattered. They were still running, though he’d need to put in a new tape soon.
Everything was exactly as he left it.
Except for a strange, white shape in a small room towards the center of the mill.
He saw it from the next room and almost continued on, but, though there were some tarps and sheets in the place, they were all full of holes. This one seemed new.
It couldn’t be this easy?...could it?
He readied his camera and snuck as quietly as possible towards it. It was just a pile of white, but he could see it slowly moving.
Well, it made sense, didn’t it? Why did foals use a sheet to dress as a ghost if somepony hadn’t seen one like that before?
So he lined up the shot and decided surprise was his best move. His hoof ready to press the button, he gave a loud, wordless cry.
The shape rose up with a terrified wail and took off, running into a nearby wall. Meanwhile, Wispy’s camera was snapping like crazy as he got almost every second on film.
The shape kept moving, wailing and screaming. And that was when the sheet caught a loose nail and was pulled off, revealing the terrified pony below it.
Almost immediately, Wisp stopped taking pictures, staring and not believing his eyes. Finally, his rage overcame his disbelief and he threw his camera down, or rather he tried as it was still on the strap around his neck. He cried, “Not again!”
The sound of his voice stopped Mizuko in her tracks as she turned to stare fearfully at him. Her eyes were wide, but she was still half-asleep. When the earth pony came into focus, she screamed again, shouting, “Get away from me!” With that, she ran past him, headed for the outside door.
“Wait!” he cried, chasing after her. They ran through a pair of rooms, heading towards the exit, but he finally managed to pass her and get in her way, saying, “Stop, I’m not going to hurt you!”
“Who are you and what do you want?” she asked quickly, tiredly.
Slowly, he replied, “My name is Wispy, but most ponies call me Wisp. I’m a ghost hunter and I’m here to find the spirits of the loggers who disappeared here.”
“Spirits?” she asked, confused.
“Yes, their ghosts.”
“That’s…” Finally her heart slowed and her mind started catching up. She had heard about this. Ponies from her home nation of Neighpon--a culture filled with ghost stories and hauntings--would often try and prove the truth of the legends. She’d never heard of an Equestrian pony doing something like that. Then something strange caught her eyes. “You mean ghosts, like, strange lights and stuff?”
“Yeah!” he replied with a smile. “But I’m after a fully materialized ghost, which would look a lot like an actual pony.”
“No, I mean, j-just look!” she cried, pointing behind him.
Wisp turned and froze. Outside, faintly leaking through the cracked wooden walls, was a sickly green glow. As they watched, the glow spread to their right and left and seemed to gently pulse.
“Does that correspond to any ghosts in your research?” Mizuko hissed at Wispy.
“Green glows, yeah,” he replied in a whisper, “but nothing specifically like this.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We go outside and take a look!” And with that, he headed over to the door, bringing his camera up as he gripped the doorknob.
“No!’ cried Mizuko. “Wait!”
But it was too late, Wispy had already opened the door and brought up his camera with a bright flash as he snapped a half dozen quick pictures. “Hah! Gotcha!”
“Wisp, that’s not a ghost,” breathed Mizuko, terror clear in her voice.
He turned, cocking an eyebrow. “Huh?” She pointed back with a hoof, and he turned. The green glow was emanating from two angled points, shining bright and menacing. Then the sky lit up as lightning fell and it illuminated the creature on the other side of the doorway.
It was a timberwolf.
“Oh. ...Mizuko?” he asked slowly.
“Yes?”
“Run!”
With that, he slammed the door just as the predator leapt for his throat. It hit the door, and Wispy could hear the clinking of wood as it broke to pieces. But the door burst open as three more timberwolves chased in. Both Wispy and Mizuko were already running to the other room, looking for anywhere to get away.
The timberwolves let out a bloodcurdling howl, which was drowned by the clap of thunder as the storm outside continued.
They ran into the much larger lumber storage room. With quick, graceful steps, Mizuko shot up the mismatched stack like a peculiar staircase, Wispy hot on her hooves, though not nearly as dextrously. With a curse, he stepped on a board awkwardly, pushing it back and away as it tumbled, knocking other boards down with it.
This worked to their advantage, however, as now they were on a pile of lumber and had knocked the way up down. The timberwolves--with their reformed fourth--rushed into the room and launched themselves at the pile, their jaws snapping.
Both ponies were breathing heavy, not from the exertion, but sheer terror. With sudden clarity, Mizuko looked at Wispy and snapped, “You just had to open the door?!”
“Well, sorry! I thought they were ghosts!”
“Oooooh, no, no, no. We’re going to die, alone, in the middle of nowhere!” she wailed, covering her eyes and trying to imagine a happier place.
“We’re not going to die,” Wispy said. “They’ll get bored and leave us alone, don’t you worry.”
“And how long will that take?”
“...I don’t know,” he replied, haltingly.
“Well that’s helpful!” she snapped again, so he snapped back with, “I don’t see you coming up with anything to get us out of here!”
“Let me think,” she said, wracking her brain for anything they might do to save themselves. Oddly, her mind turned to the giant saw over the river she had seen earlier. A desperate plan ran through her mind. She asked, “Can you distract them somehow?”
Wispy thought for a moment, then lifted up his camera. “Do you think an overpowered flash might help?”
“Worth a shot.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked, confused.
“Just flash them and then follow me when I run!”
“OK…” he said and then started the camera’s flash to charge. When it gave a satisfying hum, he pointed it at the snarling wolves, shouting, “Say cheese!”
The flash went off, and it was blindingly bright. The timberwolves howled in pain and hid their eyes as Mizuko cried, “Jump and run!”
She jumped, Wispy right behind her, and landed on the ground, scrambling for the main mill. Once there, she waited and turned. It took a moment, but the timberwolves got to their feet and, with an angry bark, started chasing them again.
“Up the stairs!” she cried and then followed her own order, not noticing if Wisp was following.
The sound of hooves clattering on wood echoed, then the sound of scratching wood on wood as the wolves were right on their tails. The stairs went up along the wall. It circled the room fully, then turned towards the middle of the room, right over the saw.
Mizuko stopped and was glad to see Wispy next to her, at the end of the walkway. She looked down at the dark water below, such a tiny target...
“We’re trapped again!” he cried in a mix of fear and anger.
“No, wait for it! And when I give the order, jump!”
“Jump?! Are you crazy?”
“Trust me!” She turned back and barely had time to yell, “Jump!”
Both ponies leapt, heading down towards the water below, just ahead of the timberwolves, who yelped at the sudden drop and barely skidded to a stop.
They looked down just in time to see a pair of splashes and gave out barks and howls of frustration.
Half a mile downstream from the mill, two waterlogged ponies climbed up on the bank, Mizuko helping the struggling Wispy. They collapsed on the muddy ground, thankful that the storm seemed to be breaking up above.
Turning to her back, Mizuko started laughing, the rush of being alive and safe giving her a sense of euphoria.
Wispy turned to her, shook his head, and mumbled, “Why do I keep running into crazy ponies?!”