• Published 10th Jun 2014
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Ghostly - jkillea



A Stallion dies, but remains in this world as a ghost.

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Prequal: A Little Ghostly

A Little Ghostly

I am dead. I am well and truly dead. There’s no miraculous return, no sudden “surprise!”, and i’m sure as hell not faking it, unless decapitation is dramatically less lethal than I was lead to believe. I’m dead and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

...I should do something. I thought to myself. As I looked around the room I was in, all I saw was stone. Stone walls, the Warden, and my killer. Oh sure they call him “the Executioner”, but that doesn't change what he is. The whole way over here, I thought it was a joke, or maybe a dream. I thought maybe, just maybe I could find a way to escape, become an outlaw or maybe a mercenary. But here I am, dead and headless, and there they are, another job well done.

“Clean this up, and get ready for the next one.” The Warden said. The Executioner just nodded and lifted my body up with his claws. Figures i’d be killed by a griffon. I thought bitterly. I hope my brother’s proud, he was finally right about something. I watched as the griffon walked out of the door with my body under one arm and my head held by his other claw.

My family had protested my decision to visit the griffon territories quit viciously. My mother didn't like me being so far away, my father felt the same, and my brother was convinced i’d be killed. Of course he probably didn't think it would be because I was sentenced to death, but hey, close enough right? Of course this is the part where most ponies would complain about the injustice of it all. About how they were innocent, and this shouldn't have happened, but when you killed two guards in an attempt to take the warlord of the areas life, I think that they have a right to be a bit sore when they find out about it. The only injustice here is that I got caught. And I suppose I should have listened to the other side of the story too, but it was a lot of money, and it wasn't too far of a stretch to think somepon-err, somegriffon called a warlord was bad.

The warden looked disinterestedly at the chopping block, and then he walked out of the room. Looking back maybe escaping and becoming a mercenary was a stupid idea. Trying to kill for coins was what got me into this. I don’t know why I thought it would get me out.

I decided there was no point in sticking around. Even though I wasn't sure what to do now, I didn't want to stick around here any longer. Especially since the Warden said there were more ponies, or griffons, or whatever being brought here to be executed. I started off down the hallway outside of the only exit to the room. But where should I go now? I wondered. I guess I can go anywhere. I thought as I took a left at a crossroad in the hall. It’s not like anything can kill me again. I could explore the whole known world, and the all of the unexplored! It’s not like an ocean can stop me now. I began to smile a bit. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. I mean sure I was dead and I could not longer touch stuff. I swiped at a nearby guard to be sure. Yup. Completely untouchable.

I was coming up on a set of barred windows. I hadn't exactly been given a tour when I arrived, so I didn't know where the actual doors were, but I figured it probably wouldn't matter. I can walk through walls now! I thought excitedly. I began to gallop at the bars, feeling excited at the prospect of what I was about to do. I then proceeded to smash face first into the very solid wall.

“Owww!” I yelled. “What the fuck was that?!” I glared at the wall. I thought I was supposed to be able to walk through walls and stuff now. That’s what all the stories said I could do. Rubbing my nose, I walked up to the wall behind me and bopped it with my hoof. It was as solid now as it had been when I was alive. “Fuck! I die, and I don’t even get to do all the cool shit they said I would be able to as a ghost! That is just fucking great, fan-fucking-tastic. Now I have to wander around this stupid place until i find the door, and then, even when i find it, I can’t fucking open it!” I roared.

I walked up to another nearby guard and tried to punch her. I passed right through her as it had the other. “Of course I can’t, that would make this actually somewhat fun.” I grumbled. Then I had an idea. So I can touch walls, but not living things. Can I touch other things that aren't alive? I decided to find out. It just so happened that this guard was chatting with another about something or other, and had taken her helmet off for whatever reason. I tried to push it. It was solid, but felt like it weighed as much as the whole building. I put both hooves on it and pushed for all i was worth. It’s a good thing ghosts don’t sweat or i’d have been sopping wet by now, As I heaved with all my might the helmet stayed resolutely put.

I finally gave up and sat down, panting. This is stupid. I can’t even move a helmet. So I can touch things, but not living things. And the things I can touch, I can’t move. maybe I should try something lighter, like a feather. I eventually stood up. I should find the door. Somegriffon’s gotta open it eventually and I can walk out with them. With this in mind, I walked off down the hallway, following the wall that had a window on it.

About a minute later I came across the entryway. Huh. So it’s not as big as I thought. I looked around, but there wasn't much to look at. A row of grated bars, behind which a griffon sat boredly, and a carpet on the cold stone floor. I assumed the griffon was some sort of greeter. To my left, at the end of the room, was my way out. Two large metal doors, firmly shut. “Damn.” I cursed under my breath. “I’ll have to wait for someone to come through.” So I sat down to wait.

Luckily I didn't have to wait long, as soon a group of griffon guards were leaving as their shift ended. I trailed them out the door, and looked around. I was standing on a dirt road that led to a gate. To either side of me was a field of somewhat short grass. Just as I was about to turn and get a look at the prison, The group I was following started towards the gate. Not wanting to be left behind and have to wait for the next shift I quickly followed.

We arrived at the gate shortly, and a gatekeeper opened it up. Finally, I can get out of this place. I walked confidently towards the gate, thoughts of where to go next flashing through my head, which all came to a screeching halt as I walked headfirst into an invisible wall.

“No...No no no NO!” I tried again, to no avail. I began to panic, and I started to beat on the invisible gate. “Let me out of here! I already died, I served my sentence, let me out!” The wall stayed firmly in place, as the gate master began to close the gate. “No no no, this can’t be happening, don’t close it yet! I can still get through, I can still get out, DON’T CLOSE IT!” I wailed desperately. Of course he couldn't hear me. The gate was closed and then locked. I was trapped in this prison, and my final escape plan had been a failure.

I curled up on the ground, let the anger, and panic, and sadness of the day wash over me, and I cried.

***

A little while later, I had managed to walk myself back to the front door. I got a look at the prison on the way back. There wasn't much to say about it. A short, squat, and depressingly bland building was what I saw. As I sat by the door waiting on one of the guards to open it, I thought to myself just how disappointed I was with my life. I never did anything remarkable. I wasn't amazing with a sword. I could use one sure, but I was nothing special. I barely knew and magic, and what little I did know, I was only just able to use.

I looked over myself. I didn't even have any special colors, nothing that stood out. I had dull yellow fur, and a dark brown mane. As I looked over myself, i realized a few things. The first thing I noticed was that I wasn't see through. Humph, go figure, the stories were wrong again. The next thing I noticed was that I had no cutie mark. I guess that makes sense. What good is something that tells me what i’m good at in life do me now that i’m dead? And finally I realized that my name didn't relate to my cutie mark. I don’t even know what kind of a cutie mark would relate to “Roan” anyways.

I sighed and looked up at the overcast skies. I never did anything to leave my mark on society. Even if I had succeeded in killing the warlord, it wouldn't have done anything. He was small time at best. Hell, he worked for a bigger warlord. All I would have done was annoy his boss. I blinked as a raindrop fell through me. So I can’t touch those either. I don’t know if that’s good or bad at this point. It’s funny, I always wanted an adventure, but I never did anything about it. And when i finally did, I did it in the stupidest way possible, and I died. And now i’m here in the rain, waiting for someone to open a door I can touch, but never open. How metaphoric. I thought bitterly.

I laid down, feeling tired. I guess ghosts still need to sleep. I mused tiredly. Tomorrow, i’m going to find a way out of this. I may not have been able to find adventure in life, but i’ll die again if i’m going to be denied it in death. With that final, determined thought, I fell asleep for the first time in my unlife.

Author's Note:

Okay, so it this seems rushed that's because it is. I though of it early in the morning, and wanted to write it down before I forgot anything. I might even rewrite the chapter as I build more of the world and become more aware of where i'm trying to go with this. Please, tell me your thoughts on what I have so far. If I don't know what's wrong with a story, I can't fix it, so please comment.

Never been much of a writer before, but who knows, maybe this will change that. Unfortunately this means I might word thing oddly, or spell things wrong, and I don't think i'm anywhere near big enough to attract an editor, so once again please comment on anything you see.

In the future I hope to make my chapters at least 5000 words long.

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