Where Evil Sleeps

by Nanrite

Chapter 10: Crossing Over

Remy ran down to the collapsed ballroom but stopped dead in her tracks at the base of the stairs—the rest of the floor had caved in.

"What are we gonna do?!" Crystal screamed. Remy could feel the filly trembling on her back.

"Don't worry Crystal," Remy said calmly and extended her wings.

In her panic, Crystal had all but forgotten she was riding on a pegasus. Remy leapt into the air above the abyss, her wings beating softly as she flew across the ballroom. She took it slow, being extra careful not to tilt too much for her passenger's sake. Crystal closed her eyes and held on as firmly as she could.

"Almost ther-" Remy began but stopped as she heard a sickening crunch. Before she could think about it, an agonizing pain shot through her right wing—something had snapped the bone. Remy let out a scream and tried to balance on her left wing but ended up just spinning violently. Thoughts ran through her mind: Got to get Crystal down! My wing is broken! Land! It's burning! What did I hit?! Please Celestia, it hurts! Despite her best efforts, Remy descended into the pit below. She flapped her left wing harder but was rewarded again with another violent spin, this one sending her into a tailspin. Crystal screamed and a sudden weight was lifted from Remy's back.

Remy panicked and turned to see the filly was gone. She then turned back around just in time to see the stony wall of the abyss rapidly nearing her face. She felt pain for a moment, and then everything was black.

---

Lance had never been skilled with magic, but teleportation was the only way out of his cell. His little sister had tried to teach him but it never stuck. He had been sparking his horn and popping as his sister had tried to explain, but like always, he never moved anywhere. He had lost count on how much he had tried to teleport and stomped the ground in frustration. That was when she returned.

The maid was back, but this time she had a scar across her throat and two scars on her head–one on the side, the other right between her eyes. Lance was silent as the maid approached the cell. She then just stared at him. There was silence for almost a full minute before Lance turned away to look at a corner of his cell.

"Am I ugly now?" the maid asked. Lance looked back to those cold grey eyes again and shrugged. "Am I ugly?" the maid asked again.

"Why are you asking?" Lance replied.

"I was made to be perfect. I think..." the maid stopped and brought her hoof to the scar on her throat. "I think it's still there." She rubbed at it, causing freshly-applied makeup to smear onto her hoof and reveal not a scar, but a deep, raw gash. Lance winced and the maid caught him.

"You see it, don't you," she stated.

"N-No. You... look very pretty."

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not lying!" Lance stammered.

"You are. You think I'm ugly.... I'm not perfect... I'm-" A sinister grin formed across the maid's face. Her eyes lit up in a fierce, unnatural amber glow. She began shaking violently and a sudden low laugh bellowed out of her and echoed throughout the cave. It grew, louder, until she sounded completely crazed. Lance was thankful for the cell that separated them.

"Enough."

The maid stopped shaking and ceased her laughter almost immediately.

Lance looked deep into the blackness of the cave and suddenly a figure emerged—the source of the voice that silenced the maid. The figure slowly came within view, walking with a cane strapped to his right foreleg. He was a stallion—older by the tone of his raspy voice. He wore a tattered scarf and hood and his whole body seemed to be wrapped in some kind of fabric. Lance thought he looked like a mummy straight out of one of the late night shows at the Canterlot theater.

The stallion approached the maid and grabbed her mane, pulling it backwards, exposing the scar on her throat to him.

"This won't do," the mummified stallion stated. "I tell you to bring me the filly, I even tell you where she is, and you come back like... this?!" The stallion finished and then brought his cane up, striking the maid across the head with an unnaturally swift swing, which caused the mare to collapse to the floor almost instantly.

"Stop it!" Lance yelled. He wasn't sure why; the words just kind of erupted from him. As a colt he was taught never to hit a mare, even one as crazy as the maid.

The stallion turned to him and slowly approached the cell bars.

"Listen here, colt," the stallion spat. "You... and the ponies you brought here... you're all going to die."

Lance gritted his teeth.

"Then come on in here and kill me," Lance said "Open that door and see what happens!"

"No need," the stallion said matter-of-factly. "You are no longer a threat, your friends are the ones who we're concerned about."

"We're trained Canterlot guards who specialize in-"

"Son..." the old stallion teased, a laugh almost escaping his muzzle, but all he mustered was a dry cough. "One of you is already dead."

Lance stepped away from the bars, the fight suddenly gone from him.

"You're lying!"

"Ask my maid; after all," The stallion got out an actual laugh this time. "She's the one who did it." The figure then turned and walked slowly back into the cave.

"Come back!" Lance yelled, then he turned to the maid, who was still on the cave floor. "What did you do?! Who was it?!"

The maid was silent.

"Who was it, you bitch!?"

The maid got up slowly and brushed some of the dust from her outfit. A sizable red bump was appearing on her jaw where the stallion's cane had struck her. She turned to Lance, her eyes no longer a bright, crazed, yellow, but a dull grey. She looked him dead in the eyes but said nothing.

"Answer me!" Lance screamed, pounding a hoof against the steel bars of his cell.

The maid slowly began walking into the darkness of the cave, after her master. Lance screamed again, tears threatening to escape him. As she walked away she said something, low and almost inaudible. Lance swore the maid had said "I'm sorry."