> Tales from the Cosmos Eccentric
>  by RB_
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Honeymoon Blues
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sooooo,” Pinkie Pie said, leaning across the table. “Have you decided where you’re going on your honeymoon yet?”

Lyra lifted her gaze from the mountains of blank invitations still on the table.

“We were thinking Prance,” she said. She finished signing the latest of the cards and shuffled it over to the significantly smaller ‘completed’ pile. “Y’know, see the Trifle Tower, visit the Houvre, eat snails—typical romantic couple stuff.”

Pinkie bit her lip. All eight of them.

“Could I convince you to maybe… not do that?”

Lyra paused, pen mid-stroke.

“…Why?”

“Well,” Pinkie said, touching the tips of her hooves together. “You know how they have those catacombs?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s an army of horrible abominations of flesh and eyes living in them,” said the horrible abomination of flesh and eyes.

“Oh.”

“And it’s kiiinda their hunting season……”

“Alright,” Lyra said, “We won’t go to the catacombs, then.”

“…Did you know that the catacombs actually extend into a network of caves that covers all of Prance?”

“Okay,” Lyra said. “Prance is off the table. Gotcha.”

“It’s for the best,” Pinkie said. “Snails don’t taste that great, anyway.”

Lyra went back to the invitations.









“How do I look?” Bon Bon asked.

“Exquisite, darling!” Rarity said. “That suit really suits you—and the accents really bring out your eyes! But are you sure I can’t tempt you into a dress?”

“I’m sure,” Bon Bon said, smiling. “Inside joke. Pinkie?”

“I completely agree!” Pinkie said. “You look great! Although… maybe something a bit tighter around the waist?”

Rarity tapped her chin. “Hm… you may be right, actually. Hold that thought; I’ll take a look in the back.”

Rarity trotted out of the dressing room, leaving Pinkie and Bon Bon alone.

“It’s really nice of you to do this for us,” Bon Bon said.

“Oh, don’t even mention it!” Pinkie said. “You two deserve nothing less than the best. And the best is Rarity’s specialty!”

“Still, thank you.”

Pinkie waved her hoof dismissively. “It’s nothing.”

Bon Bon smiled, and then glanced back at the mirror.

She really did look good in a suit.

“Hey, speaking of the best,” Pinkie said, “have you two decided on a honeymoon destination yet?”

“We have, actually,” Bon Bon said. “Matadoria.”

“Ooh, spicy!” Pinkie said. “Make sure you bring plenty of bug spray, though.”

Bon Bon blinked.

“Why? Are insects a big problem there?”

Pinkie snorted. “You could say that! See, there are these giant, fire-breathing dragonfly monsters called the Caballucos…”

Bon Bon cut her off.

“No,” she said. “We haven’t decided yet.”









“Oh my gosh, it’s perfect!” Lyra exclaimed.

Pinkie took back the sketch of the cake. A baker’s blueprint, if you will.

“I know, right?” she said. “It’ll make the MMM look like a trifle by comparison!”

“Yeah!” Lyra said. “Also, what’s the MMM?”

“Yesterday’s news,” Pinkie said. She rolled up the plans and stuck them under her baker’s hat. “So! Did you figure out where you’re going for your honeymoon?”

Lyra’s demeanor immediately changed.

“W-well, um…” she said. “We were thinking about Pegasopolis? Ancient pegasus architecture, wonderful art, exotic food—”

“Not to mention the back entrance to Tartarus!” Pinkie said, smile as big as ever. “It’s really scenic—make sure you bring a camera! Just don’t get too close, or Orthrus will get mad.”

“Orth…rus?”

“Cerberus’ brother,” Pinkie explained. “He’s always a bit cranky, though, because he’s the less popular one. So mind his teeth!”

Lyra blinked.

“Y’know, on second thought…”









“Shetland.”

“Ooh, say hi to the Nuckelavee for me!” Pinkie said. “Or don’t. Probably don’t.”









“Venisen?”

“If you hear mysterious singing in the middle of the night, run in the opposite direction. Especially if it’s coming from the canals!”









“…Trottingham?”

“How do you feel about the undead?”









“Applewood.”

“No.”

Bon Bon blinked. “Just… no?”

“No.”

“…Do I want to—”

“No.”









Alright,” Lyra said, slapping her hooves onto the table. “There has to be somewhere on Equis not inhabited by monsters, zombies, portals to hell, or horrors beyond imagining.”

She glanced at Pinkie. “No offense.”

“None taken!”

“So tell us,” Bon Bon said. “Because we’ve pretty much exhausted the list of ‘normal’ honeymoon destinations.”

“We just want a nice, relaxing, creatures-from-beyond-the-veil free vacation,” Lyra said. “Can you recommend anywhere?”

“Well,” Pinkie said, tapping her chin. “I can think of one place…”









“Well, it’s… not exactly Prance,” Bon Bon said, gazing across the dilapidated, straw-covered architecture of Griffonstone.

“No,” Lyra agreed. “It isn’t.”

But they were there, and they were there together, and that’s all that mattered.

“Scone?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”
> The Past Bites 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bell over the candy shop’s door tinkled.

“Hello,” Bon Bon said automatically. “Welcome to Bon Bon’s Bon Bons, I’m Bon Bon. What can I help you with?”

Do you say that every time?

“Taglines are good for business,” Bon Bon said. “Hello, Vinyl.”

Hello yourself, Vinyl said, walking up to the counter. I haven’t seen you since the wedding. How’s married life treating you?

Bon Bon giggled.

That good, huh? Vinyl smirked. I never pegged you for a romantic.

“Oh, stop,” she said. “So. Apology chocolates?”

How’d you know?

Bon Bon slid aside the panel at the back of the display case. “Octavia was in here about a week ago. She wanted to know if we knew where you’d gone.”

Vinyl winced. Yeah…

“So,” Bon Bon said. “One box of Raspberry Delights?”

Green Tea Truffles, Vinyl corrected. They’re her favourites.

Bon Bon shook her head. “No, Green Tea Truffles are what she lets other ponies buy for her. Raspberry Delights are what she buys herself when no one’s looking.”

Never argue with the candymaker, I guess. Sure, one box of those.

Bon Bon reached into the display case with a pair of tongs. “So,” she said. “Where have you been for the last week?”

Taking care of some business.

“What kind of business?”

Our kind.

“Then I’m guessing this isn’t just a social visit,” Bon Bon said. She began arranging the treats in their box, experienced hooves packing the confections in with purple tissue paper.

You guessed right, Vinyl said. I need to head out again. I was hoping you’d come with me.

“You need our help?”

No. Yours. I…

Vinyl grimaced.

I need a hunter.

Bon Bon dropped the box of chocolates, wrapped up in ribbon, onto the counter. She nodded.

“Meet me in the back.”









“There,” Bon Bon said, stepping into the living room. “Shop’s closed up. What’s going on, Vinyl?”

Vinyl had taken up residence on their couch. Her purple-tinted glasses sat on the coffee table, and her eyes were closed.

She looked terrible. With her glasses off, Bon Bon could see just how sunken her eyes were. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days—and considering her particular condition, that was even more concerning.

First things first, Vinyl said. This is strictly vampire business. If anypony with fangs asks, you didn’t hear about this from me, I was never here, and I certainly didn’t bring you into this. Got it?

“Understood.”

Cool.

Vinyl took a deep breath in through her nostrils, then let it all out in one breath. She opened her eyes.

The vampire sect of the Underground values two things, she said. Peace… and secrecy.  It wasn’t always like that. As I’m sure you know.

Bon Bon nodded.

We’re good at the secrecy part; blending in and stalking prey from the shadows is kind of our thing. Peace… not so much. Our current state of affairs is maintained by one thing, and one thing only, and that thing is our blood supply.

That blood is controlled by La Société. It comes from the medical blood supply, and it’s distributed to vampires across Equestria via caravan.

“Okay,” Bon Bon said. “Why are you telling me this?”

Because someone’s been attacking the caravans, Vinyl said.

It started a few weeks ago. At first, it was just one or two attacks, but now every caravan’s being hit. Without fresh blood, vampires are going to start turning to… ‘alternative’ sources. There have already been reports of attacks. If this keeps up—

“It’s back to the old ways,” Bon Bon finished.

And there’s more, Vinyl said. Have you ever heard of the Queen of Blood?

“The old vampire legend?” Bon Bon said, raising an eyebrow. “What has that got to do with all of this?”

In response, Vinyl pulled out a photograph and tossed it onto the table. It spun towards Bon Bon, stopping just in front of her.

This was on one of the wagons that was attacked.

Bon Bon looked at the photograph. It was a picture of the side of said wagon. And, written in red, shining angrily under the camera’s flash, were five words:

‘The Bloody Queen Lives Again.’
> The Past Bites 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five days ago, I found this in my mail, Vinyl said. I’d asked a friend close to the council to keep me in the loop about the blood shortages. This is what she sent me.

Bon Bon mouthed the words written on the wagon. She looked up at Vinyl. “You don’t think this could actually be…?”

Vinyl shook her head. The Bloody Queen is just an old story that vampires tell each other to make themselves feel special.

“You’re sure?” Bon Bon said, setting the picture back onto the coffee table. “This wouldn’t be the first time…”

One hundred percent, Vinyl said. The Queen of Blood is nothing more than a myth.

She sighed. Of course, the thing about myths is that sometimes ponies believe in them a little too much.









The lights were out. That was a good sign. It meant the ponies she was looking for were here.

Vinyl lowered the hood of her hoodie. Had the back alley behind the grungy Manehattan warehouse been lit, her neon mane would have stuck out like a spotlight. 

She began walking towards the warehouse. The lone guard spotted her almost immediately.

“Hey!” he shouted. His horn lit, bright orange, illuminating the silhouette of his head and the shape of the doorframe he was standing in. “Stop where you are!”

Chill, Pack. It’s me.

“Vinyl?” The horn light dimmed. 

The one and only, Vinyl said. How’s Mindy?

“Fine,” he said. “She appreciated the birthday present. Says it goes well with her eyes.”

I told you it would. You still planning on blasting us?

“Depends,” the unicorn said. His horn grew brighter. “Why are you here?”

Extra protection.

“I didn’t hear about any extra protection.”

It’s off the books. You want our help or not?

He considered it for a moment.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he finally said, his horn winking out. “Wouldn’t’ve expected to see you signing up for this kind of job, though. Thought you didn’t like the rougher stuff.”

Desperate times.

Pack wasn’t an ugly pony, exactly, but he had the kind of face that more polite ponies would call ‘rough around the edges’. His muzzle was crooked, his eyes were deep-set, and one of his ears was missing. A burn scar ran under his left eye.

All in all, not the kind of pony you’d want to meet in the back of an alley. Even disregarding the fangs.

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way of the doorway. “Before you start attracting the wrong kind of attention.”

The inside of the warehouse was just as dimly lit as the outside, not that that made a difference to any of its current occupants. The half-a-dozen-odd vampires were currently busy loading metal crates into the back of several covered wagons. They paid Vinyl little mind as she joined in; if Pack knew her, that was good enough for them.

Three of them in particular had struck up a conversation.

“Look, man,” one of them was saying. “All’s I’m saying is, we need to be on our guard tonight. I don’t want to end up a smear on the side of the road like Morningstar.”

“Is she back on her hooves yet?” another asked. “Her name’s still off the duty roster…”

“Last I heard she was still asleep,” the third said, dropping a crate into the wagon. “It’s been a few weeks, though. Must be a slow healer.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t all get as lucky as you, Barge,” the first said. “If you turn out to be a friggin’ immort, I swear…”

The one called Barge, by and large the largest of the three, snorted. “You jealous?”

“’Course I’m jealous,” the first replied. “If I could grow back limbs in a couple of days, they might actually start paying me a decent wage!”

They all had a good chuckle at that.

“So, this vamp that’s attacking the caravans,” the first said. “You heard the rumors?”

“Which ones?” Barge asked. “I’ve heard everything from her being a giant bat to her being the spawn of Nightmare Moon.”

“I’ve heard she can turn into mist and wolves and things,” the third said. “Y’know, like the ponies think we can, only for real.”

“No way,” the Barge said. “That’s hogwash. What, is she allergic to garlic, too?”

“Well, I dunno,” the third said. “It’s just what I’ve heard.”

“They say she’s calling herself the Queen of Blood,” the first said. “You don’t think she could actually be…?”

“I dunno,” the third said. “At this point, I’d believe it.”

“You’d believe anything, Buck.”

“Well at least I’m not as ugly as you, Stoney.”

“Right back at ya, lard-face.”

“Well,” Barge said, dropping another crate into the wagon. “All’s I know is: if whoever-it-is tries to take down our caravan? She’ll be buying herself a one-way ticket to a cement coffin, ‘cause we’re the best in the business.” 









Once the wagon was loaded, we headed out, Vinyl said. I rode in the back of the first wagon with Pack and some of the others.









The back of the wagon was freezing, and not because of the cold night air. The refrigeration enchantments on the metal boxes kept their contents fresh, but at the expense of anyone trying to sit on them. Like, for instance, Vinyl, who was trying her best not to shiver as she leaned against one of the stacks.

Pack ducked his head back in from out the back of the wagon, the flap that covered it falling back into place and cutting off the moonlight. “Looks like we’re about halfway to Fillydelphia,” he told her. “Maybe you shouldn’t have wasted your Saturday night, Vinyl.”

I won’t complain if you’re right.

As Pack sat back down, one of the other guards—the one the others had called Stoney—glanced up.

“Vinyl?” he said. “You mean like that famous DJ, that Vinyl?”

Vinyl nodded.

“Huh,” he said. “Thought you looked familiar—my marefriend’s a fan. Didn’t know you were one of us, though.”

“Kinda quiet for a DJ, aren’t you?” another guard—Buck, if Vinyl remembered right—said. “You haven’t said a word since we hit the road.”

Stoney swatted him behind the ears. “She’s mute, ya dingus.”

“Oh, believe me,” Pack said. “She can be one heck of a chatterbox when she feels like it.”

“So what’s a big famous DJ doing on caravan duty?” Buck said, rubbing the back of his head. “Spinning records not paying so well these days?”

“I told you,” Buck said, swatting at him again. “She’s mute.”

Stoney ducked it this time. “Well she’s gotta know sign language or somethin’, right?”

Vinyl lifted her forehooves and made a complex series of motions in the air.

“See?” Stoney said. “Hey, Pack, what’d she say?”

Pack snorted. “If I had to guess, she just told you to go jump in a lake.”

Vinyl grinned. Buck laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stoney said, settling back against the wagon’s wall and folding his forelegs. “Laugh it up.”

All at once, his ears perked up. “Hey, you guys hear that?”

Vinyl had. She hopped to her hooves. 

Pack, we’ve got company.

“Whoa,” Buck said. “What the heck was that? It was like there was a voice in my head—”

That’s me, Vinyl said, waving. Hi. Telepath. Nice to meet you. Pack, there’s a pegasus coming in from the left. I can hear their wings.

“I hear ‘em too,” Pack said, getting to his own hooves. “Get ready.”

He made his way over to the back of the wagon and pushed aside the flap, illuminating the wagon with moonlight. He stuck his head out.

“M-maybe it’s just a mailpony,” Buck whispered.

“At three in the morning?”

“…Overnight delivery?”

Quiet down, Vinyl said. Pack, what do you see?

“Nothing yet,” he whispered. “Where’d they—”

Thump.

At once, all their eyes turned upwards, to the top of the wagon. The sound had come from above.

Something had landed on the roof of the wagon.

“Hey! You on the roof!” Pack shouted, out into the night. “This is a guarded caravan! If you don’t leave immediately, you will be removed by force! This is your one and only warning!”

“Ooh, a warning!” came a voice from up above. “That’s new. The last caravan just started shooting.”

Barge’s horn lit. A crossbow levitated up beside him. He pointed it upwards, towards the source of the voice.

“Well, I’m feeling charitable tonight,” Pack shouted back. “You have five seconds.”

“Funny,” the voice said. “I’m not.”

With a great crash, the roof broke into pieces. Vinyl raised her foreleg over her eyes to protect them from the shower of splinters that rained down around her. She heard a crossbow fire.

When she uncovered her eyes, there was a mare standing in the middle of the wagon. Her orange eyes shone like fire in the moonlight that streamed through the hole in the roof. A crossbow bolt stuck out of one of her wings.

“You know,” the mare said, “it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs.”
> The Past Bites 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Who’s first?”

Buck whimpered. The mare’s eyes snapped over to him.

“You’ll do.”

Before Vinyl could even blink, the mare had wrapped her hooves around the stallion’s barrel. With a single flap of her wings she propelled the both of them back the way she’d come in.

“Crap!” Stoney yelled.

“Stop the wagons!” Pack yelled. “All guards, take her down!”

He leapt off the back, Vinyl and Stoney following behind him. Barge was already out, along with several others. They were looking up.

Vinyl followed their lead. The mare was high in the sky already and gaining altitude, Buck’s screaming form clasped to her barrel.

Don’t just stand there! she shouted in their minds. Shoot her down!

“We’ll hit Buck!” Stoney shouted back. 

A couple of crossbow bolts won’t kill him! A fall from much higher might!

“You heard her!” Pack yelled. “Get shooting!”

Dutifully, the guards raised their crossbows. A hail of bolts launched into the air, shot with the accuracy of creatures used to fighting in the dark.

Not one of them hit their target.

The mare rolled to the side, the flurry of shots missing her by just a hair. Spinning about, she began to dive, head-first towards the ground. Buck’s screaming began to grow louder.

“Keep shooting!” Pack yelled, but it was no good. The mare was just too nimble in the air, dodging and weaving between bolts as she continued her plummet. 

When she was only a few meters off the ground, she let go. 

Buck slammed into the ground. His body twitched once and then fell to the dirt.

The mare pulled up, now racing along the ground—straight for the group. Vinyl grit her teeth and rolled to the right, just as she barreled through them. 

Not all of them were so fortunate. Two more guards were sent flying across the field, bouncing and rolling along the ground, knocked unconscious by the impact. The mare herself touched down, skidding to a stop. She looked back at them. She was grinning.

“So,” she said. “Do you want to surrender, or do I get to have more fun?”

“You picked the wrong caravan, lady!” Barge shouted, breaking into a charge. His massive frame barreled across the field towards the mare, but she showed no signs of flinching.

“Cool,” she said. “I was hoping you’d pick the second option.”

Quickly, he was upon her. He reared up, his massive hooves threatening to come down on her head.

The mare’s wings shot out. With one flap, she propelled herself sideways. Barge’s blow came down on empty air. He whipped his head to the side, but not fast enough; With a second flap, she sent herself flying towards him, rear legs hooves outstretched.

Crack.

He crumpled around her kick, toppled sideways and fell to the dirt. The mare landed on top of him, perching on his barrel.

He tried to stir. She kicked him in the head. He fell still.

“Well!?” she shouted, manic grin still plastered over her face. “Who’s next?”

“They don’t pay me enough for this!” one of the other guards yelled. He turned and ran, galloping back towards the road. Several of the other guards looked at each other, and one by one they followed the first guard’s lead.

“H-hey!” Pack yelled after them. “Get back here!” Only he and Stoney had remained behind.

Vinyl stepped up.

You two get out of here, she said.

“What!?” Stoney exclaimed. 

“Vinyl, you can’t be serious—”

What, you really think you can handle that? 

“You think you can?” Stoney said.

No, Vinyl said. I know I can. Go. Get to safety. I’ll come get you when I’m done.

She started walking towards the mare. The two stallions glanced at each other, and, reluctantly, headed off.

“Bag-fed cowards!” the mare was shouting, after the retreating guards. “You’re nothing but vermin!”

She turned to Vinyl. “So what’s your deal, huh?”

Vinyl said nothing. Instead, she broke out into a sprint.

“Ooh, feisty!” the mare said. “I like that.”

She took to the air and began to fly towards Vinyl. The two came closer, closer—

The mare folded her wings and dove. Vinyl was ready. She coiled her legs and leapt into the air, fangs bared. As the mare came closer, her horn burst into life, a matching glow wrapping around the pegasus’ neck.

“Hrrk!”

Vinyl whipped her head around, sending the mare careening into the ground. She herself landed on her hooves, dropping into a ready stance, muscles coiled. Hissing, she pounced towards the fallen mare, ready to strike.

But the mare was ready, too. As Vinyl came down on top of her, a hoof shot out, catching her in the chest. Vinyl curled around it, her own momentum ruining her as the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

She rolled off the mare’s kick, falling into the dirt. The mare herself wasted no time, hopping to her hooves and grabbing Vinyl around the throat. She leapt into the air and whirled around on her axis, spiking Vinyl back into the dirt.

The impact stunned Vinyl for a moment—but just for a moment. Slowly, she began to pick herself up.

“Huh…” the mare said. “You’re still awake.”

This doesn’t have to go this way, Vinyl said, standing. We can still work this out.

“And you’re pretty fast, too,” the mare continued, as if she hadn’t heard. “What’s with the telepathy, though? Cat got your tongue?”

Something like that, Vinyl said. You’re newblood, right? What’s your name?

She chuckled. “You know that already. I wrote it nice and big on the last caravan I hit.”

The Bloody Queen? Vinyl laughed, but there was no humor in it. That nickname’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think it’s got a certain… historical charm to it.”

They circled each other like cats.

Why are you here? Vinyl asked, shouting across the field. Why are you attacking the blood caravans? You’re a vampire! This hurts you just as much as it hurts the rest of us!

The mare snorted. “Typical bag-feeder,” she spat. “I get my food from the source.”

You’ve been drinking from ponies!?

“Of course I have,” the mare replied. “I’m a vampire. It’s only natural. Haven’t you ever tried it?”

Vinyl said nothing.

“Thought so. Spineless vermin like you are the reason we’re stuck at the bottom of the food chain in the first place. You and your Société.”

The Société, Vinyl said, is the only reason we’re still here.

“The Société is the reason our entire species grovels at ponykind’s feet!” the mare snarled. “We’re the alpha predator! We should be ruling them like the cattle they are!”

You’ve lost it, Vinyl said.

“No,” the mare said. “I’m the only one who hasn’t!”

And she pounced.









I’ll skip over the next part.

“Why?” Bon Bon asked.

Because it’s the part where she tore my head off, Vinyl said. And let me tell you, decapitation? Not pretty. Let me keep some dignity.

When I woke up again, the sun was rising, and the wagons had been trashed. Every single crate had been smashed open, and every bag had been emptied. The guards that were still walking were running cleanup. They freaked out when they saw me. I think they thought I was dead.

“I would have thought you were, too.”

Anyway, Vinyl said. After that, I did some digging. Now that I knew she was drinking from the vein, all I had to do was follow the bodies.

“Why is it that every time you ask me to help you with something, it involves ponies dying?”

Comes with the territory.

Bon Bon sighed.

“Alright,” she said. “And what did you find?”

Windfall, Vinyl said. It’s an old village in the middle of the country. Over the past two months, there have been twenty disappearances in that village alone. 

She frowned. Or at least, there were until a few weeks ago. No one’s heard anything from the village since right before the attacks began.

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow. “And nobody in your Société connected the dots?”

That’s the other thing I found out, Vinyl said. See, I knew by looking at her that she was a newblood, recently turned. Which meant that someone had been siring. And it turns out that someone is one of the council members.

“On the council?” Bon Bon said, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Yeah. Apparently, he got a little lonely. It’s how she knows where the caravans are going to be. She stole the locations of the strongholds from him. 

Bon Bon’s eyebrow remained raised.

Bon Bon, this is hardly the worst or the most scandalous thing someone on the council has done. Besides, apparently she consented.

“Why do you even follow the council?”

I don’t, Vinyl said. But they’re the only thing keeping the rest of my kind from going back to the old ways, so I put up with them. Besides, he’s not going to stay on the council for long once this gets out. 

Anyway, I paid him a little visit. Her real name is Amber Skies. She’s twenty-two, and he turned her three months ago.

“A three-month old vampire was able to do all that?”

A very lucky three-month old vampire, Vinyl said. Age doesn’t matter. The curse doesn’t hit everypony the same way.

“How do you mean?”

Well, everybody gets blood drinking and not aging, and usually some physical prowess, she said. But the extra strength? Speed? True immortality? Those are if you get lucky. And sometimes, ponies get really, really lucky.

“And the Queen got really, really lucky?”

Amber Skies Vinyl said, won the friggin’ lottery. Don’t call her a queen. She’s not the Queen of Blood.

“I thought you said there was no Queen?”

There isn’t, Vinyl snapped. Not now, not ever. Focus, Bon Bon.

“Alright,” Bon Bon said. “So you want me to help you take her out.”

Yes.

“Alright.”

She stood up.

“When do we start?”
> The Past Bites 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Windfall was a town surrounded by a high stone wall, it turned out. A relic from an older time, when the land was less tame and the average traveler less amicable. To Vinyl Scratch, standing in the shadow of the town’s main gate, it felt almost nostalgic.

Almost.

At the sound of approaching hoofsteps, her head snapped up. She bared her fangs at the approaching pony, wrapped in a hooded cloak.

“Calm down,” Bon Bon whispered, dropping her hood. “It’s me.”

Vinyl relaxed. Took you long enough. No Lyra? And what’s with the getup?

“Past experience has taught me to come prepared,” Bon Bon said. “And did you really think I’d bring her for this?”

No, Vinyl said. I’m just wondering how you managed to give her the slip. You guys had a package deal, didn’t you?

“She thinks I’m visiting my parents in Vanhoover right now.”

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. How’d you get that past little miss lie-detector?

“I actually did visit them before I came here.”

Clever.

“Speaking of clever, what are you doing out in the open?” Bon Bon hissed. “You could have been spotted!”

Relax, I cased the place out hours ago. There’s nothing to worry about outside the walls.

She cast her gaze towards the gate.

It’s what’s inside that I’m worried about.

Together, they moved towards the gate. A set of hefty iron bars blocked the singular entrance into the village.

“My way or your way?” Bon Bon asked.

Let’s do your way, Vinyl said. We can do my way on the way out.

“Works for me.”

Bon Bon reached under her cloak and retrieved her grappling hook, which had been wrapped around her midsection. Grasping the rope in her teeth, she whirled it around a few times, then sent it flying up to the top of the wall.

Vinyl whistled. First try. How’d you get so good with that thing?

Bon Bon gave the line a few tugs, but it held tight.

“Lots of falling,” she said, and wrapped her forehooves around the rope. Planting her hindlegs against the wall, she began to climb.

Not one to be outdone, Vinyl walked up to the wall and planted her own forehooves against it.

Man, it’s been ages since I last got to do this, she thought to herself as she brought her hindlegs onto the wall as well. Taking a deep breath, she began to scurry straight up the uneven surface, pushing off outcroppings of stone and pulling herself up by the divots.

When she got to the top, Bon Bon was ready with a helping hoof and a raised eyebrow.

What? she said. I’ve got freaky vampire climbing abilities. Jealous?

“Hardly.”

You’re no fun. Anyway…

She turned towards the town. Raising her hoof, she pointed to one building in particular.

I bet you a hundred bits she’s in there.

The clocktower was easily the tallest structure within the walls, standing twice as tall as any other building. Its brass hands and glass face stood vigil over the rest of the town.

“Why there?”

C’mon, Vinyl said. Big fancy building in the very middle of town? That’s, like, vampire catnip.

“And yet you live in a one-story house on the edge of town,” Bon Bon said.

A very nice one-story house. And anyway, town hall was taken.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re the expert.”

She pulled up her grappling hook and drove it into a divot between two of the stones, then began to rappel down the inside of the wall. Vinyl jumped down, landing silently on her hooves like a cat. She moved ahead to scout.

The streets of Windfall were eerily quiet, even to Vinyl’s sensitive ears. She tried straining them, but all that got her was a sharp pain through her skull.

She winced.

“Everything alright?” Bon Bon asked, trotting up.

It’s fine, she said. Let’s go.









It seemed the outside wall was not the only relic of a bygone era in Windfall. The buildings, too, were old-fashioned in architecture, though it was obvious they were only made to look that way.

Sort of like Ponyville, Vinyl thought. Only more fake. 

And yet, it still triggered that little flutter of familiarity in the back of her brain.

They were about halfway to the clocktower, now. 

Vinyl’s ears twitched.

Hold up.

Bon Bon drew to a stop. Following Vinyl’s lead, the two ducked behind a house to their right.

Vinyl peeked out around the corner. The hoofsteps she’d heard were clearly audible, now.

Three ponies walked out from behind an alley and into the street—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they prowled. 

Their coats were filthy, covered in grime and Celestia knew what else. Their pupils were dilated, their featured thin and haggard. They appeared sickly, yet they moved with strength and purpose.

The lead one, a mare with a blond mane, lifted her nose into the air. Her lips pulled back, revealing sharp fangs. A long hiss escaped her muzzle.

“Vampires?” Bon Bon whispered.

No. Thralls, Vinyl said, narrowing her eyes. Cast-offs. It’s what happens when you don’t finish turning someone. All the vampire cravings with none of the control.

“That’s horrific,” Bon Bon said.

Yes, she said. It is.

She stood up. Wait here.

“What are you going to do?”

Fix them.

She stepped out into the open. The thralls spotted her immediately, whipping around to face her and snarling.

Easy, she said, reaching out with one hoof. Easy. I’m here to help.

They hissed.

Vinyl bared her fangs. See? I’m like you. I’m a friend.

Two of the thralls looked a little more hesitant, now. The third, the mare, hissed again, then, coiling her legs, pounced.

Vinyl was ready for her. She reared up and brought a foreleg around, catching the thrall in the throat and throwing her to the ground. Pinning her with one foreleg, Vinyl brought the other up to her mouth. Her fangs easily tore a hole in her flesh, her own pitch-black blood beginning to trickle out. She held the wound over the other mare’s maw and let a few drop fall down her throat.

There you go.

The Thrall’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. Vinyl stepped off of her; the pony rolled onto her hooves and began to cough, then to retch, bile spattering the cobblestones.

Vinyl patted her on the back. Yeah, this part sucks, she said. But it’s still better than the alternative.

She turned to the other two thralls, who were watching her warily. She held out her bleeding limb to them.

Drink up, she commanded. Nervously, the two crept forwards and accepted her offering. Soon they, too, were heaving onto the cobbles.

She turned her head to look at where Bon Bon was hiding. You can come out now, she said.

Slowly, Bon Bon emerged from the alley. The three thralls seemed to pay her no mind, too busy as they were with… whatever it was that was taking place.

Come on, Vinyl said. Let’s get them inside.









“What… happened?” one of the ponies asked. They’d taken shelter in one of the houses, dragging the three ex-thralls inside before locking the door. They had just begun to recover.

Yeah… We’ll get to that, Vinyl said. Do you remember your names?

“Tealeaf,” said the mare.

“I’m Sunup,” the stallion with the yellow coat said. He pointed to the other stallion, the one with the purple coat. “That’s my brother, Sundown.”

Heh, sun-related names, that’ll be a fun conversation starter, Vinyl said. I’m Vinyl. This is—

“Sweetie Drops,” Bon Bon said, from by the door where she was keeping guard.

—This is Sweetie Drops, apparently, Vinyl finished. And she’s currently the only normal pony in the room. Well, relatively normal.

“W-what do you mean?” Sundown said. 

What’s the last thing you remember?

He rubbed his forehead. “I… remember walking to the market with Sunup to buy some eggs, then… something attacked us?”

“It was a pony,” Sunup said. “A pegasus!”

“I think the same thing happened to me,” said Tealeaf. “She came out of nowhere…”

“I think she—this is going to sound weird, but I think she… bit me,” Sunup said. The other two started. 

“Yeah, she bit me too!”

“And me.”

Yeah, Vinyl said. She, uh… she definitely did.

“But how did we get here?” Sundown said. “Why are we covered in dirt? And why do I feel so sick?”

Well, uh… Vinyl rubbed the back of her head. Man, I really hate giving these talks.

“Just get it over with,” Bon Bon said. “We need to get moving.”

Oh, have a heart, Drops.

“I’m sorry,” Tealeaf said. “I really don’t understand what’s happening.”

Yeah, uh… alright. Check your teeth.

“Our… teeth?”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. Just do it.

They did. Reactions were predictable.

Alright, calm down, Vinyl said, holding out her hooves in a gesture of appeasement. It’s not that big of a deal, really.

“Not that big of a deal!?” Sunup said, standing up. “A weird mare attacked us, we all passed out and woke up in a different place than where we started, and we have fangs! How is that not that big of a deal!? That’s, like, the exact opposite of not a big deal! What the heck is going—”

I said calm.

He sat back down immediately, like a dog obeying its master.

Vinyl rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. Ugh… sorry about that.

She sighed. Look, short version is: you were attacked by a rogue vampire, she turned you all feral for like a month probably, and then I fixed you by turning you completely. You’re vampires now. Bon—

“Sweetie Drops.”

—Sweetie Drops and I are here to deal with the vampire that attacked you. And I know you have a million questions, and I’ll be happy to help you all ease into your new blood-loving lifestyle later, but now is not a good time.

She turned to Bon Bon. You see a piece of paper and a pencil or something when we came in?

“On the desk to your left.”

Oh. Groovy.

She took the items up in her magic and scribbled something down before handing it to Tealeaf. Head to the gate and wait for us there. If we aren’t back before sunset, take the nearest train to Manehattan and go to this address. Ask for Snowblind and tell her that Vinyl Scratch sent you. She’s better at this stuff than I am. Stick together. And for Celestia’s sake, don’t try to drink from anypony before you get there, no matter how hungry you get. Save yourself the embarrassment. 

Tealeaf reluctantly accepted the paper and nodded.

Cool. Get going. If you can’t get the gate open, the three of you are probably strong enough to bend the bars.

In a daze, the three stood and made their way to the door. Sundown hesitated on his way out.

“Are you sure it’s safe out there?” he asked.

No.

“Oh,” he said. “Great.”

And then they were gone.

“So,” Bon Bon said. “When were you going to tell me you could do that?”

Do what?

“Command other vampires.”

It’s, uh, more of a suggestion, really, Vinyl said. And only because they had some of my blood in them. Once it gets out of their system, they’ll be fine. Siring’s really the only time I can do it without poisoning them, anyway.

“And how many have you sired?”

Vinyl tapped her hoof to her chin. Counting those three? Twelve. Most of them are dead though. Hey, don’t look at me like that.

“Mm.” Bon bon frowned. “Vinyl, can I ask you a personal question?”

Uh… is now really the time?

“Why aren’t you an Owl?”

Vinyl blinked. What?

“Why aren’t you an Owl?” Bon Bon repeated.

Uh… well, I guess I just want to be a normal musician for a while. You know, make my music, have fun for a couple more centuries. I don’t like fighting, either. Besides, ‘Tavi’s got you covered.

“You were happy to fight when Hollyleaf kidnapped Winter Bell,” Bon Bon pointed out.

Yeah, well, that was personal.

“Then why are you here?” she asked. “Is this personal too?”

Vinyl looked up at her. She said nothing. Her brow furrowed.

She got to her hooves.

Come on, she said, brushing past Bon Bon. We’ve got a job to do.
> The Past Bites 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They encountered three more packs of thralls on their path to the clocktower. Each was swiftly dealt with between the two of them, the recovering newbloods told to join the others at the gate. And with each thrall they encountered, Vinyl’s expression grew fouler.

But, soon enough, they’d arrived at the building.

Standing against the wall to its side, Bon Bon pushed open the wooden door at the base of the tower with her forehoof. The interior of the clocktower was quite dim; a normal pony couldn’t have seen four feet in, not from outside.

Vinyl’s head pounded. All-too-familiar scents assaulted her nose. Dirt. Decay. Rotten meat. Aged copper.

She’ll be near the top, she said. Probably behind the clockface. It’s where I would have gone.

“Then let’s go.”

Vinyl stepped inside. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness instantly. 

The chamber they’d entered was high-ceilinged but mostly empty. Thin beams of light snuck through gaps in the boards that covered the windows, their rays visible in the dust that hung in the air. A set of steep wooden stairs against the back wall lead up to the next level. None of these were what caught Vinyl’s eye, however.

No, what drew her attention was the trapdoor in the corner, both because of the broken pieces of the ladder that sat beside it, and because she could hear the faint whimpering coming from beneath it.

Blood locker… she murmured.

“What?”

Vinyl walked over to the trapdoor. Her horn lit, her magic aura wrapping around its iron handle. Slowly, as to not make noise, she lifted it open.

Dozens of eyes looked up at her from the darkness.

She held a hoof up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

We’ll be back for you, she told them. You’re going to be okay. I promise.

The one closest to the opening nodded up at her. She nodded back, and then carefully lowered the trapdoor closed.

They’ll be safer down there, Vinyl said to Bon Bon.

“Shouldn’t we let them out now?” she whispered. “While Skies doesn’t know we’re here?”

Oh, she already knows you’re here, Vinyl said. She could hear you coming from a mile away. Smell your shampoo, too, probably.

Her eyes flicked up towards the ceiling. She’s waiting for you to come to her.

“Well, what about you?” Bon Bon whispered.

I’m good at being quiet, Vinyl said.

“Then I guess there’s no reason to keep my voice down,” Bon Bon said. “Let’s go give her what she wants.”









Amber Skies lounged upon a velveteen throne, an ornate wooden chair likely stolen from elsewhere in the village. Above, the mechanism of the clock turned. 

She looked up at them.

“Finally,” she said. “Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a mare waiting for her dinner?”

“Well, I hate to disappoint,” Bon Bon said.

Amber Skies’ orange eyes drifted over to Vinyl.

“Oh, and the mute!” she exclaimed. “Didn’t I tear your head off?”

It grew back, Vinyl said. Hello, Amber.

She snorted. “I see you’ve done your research.”

I like to know the names of the vampires whose messes I have to clean up after.

The Queen slipped off her throne, her wings fluffing themselves at her sides.

“Well, I’m afraid Amber Skies is dead,” she said. She grinned, fangs gleaming. “There’s only the Queen, now.”

Vinyl rolled her eyes. I swear, you kids get one drop of immortal blood in you and suddenly you’re queen of the thespians. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. 

“That’s funny, coming from a bag-feeder,” the Queen said. “You and your pony-loving friends are a disgrace to our kind.”

Right back at ya, newblood.

“Can we get this over with?” Bon Bon said. “I have a wife to get back to.”

Amber flapped her wings, taking to the air. The light filtering in through the clockface silhouetted her form.

“Well, I’d hate to keep her waiting for your funeral!” she said, and then she dived.

Vinyl leapt to the left; Bon Bon rolled to the right. The Queen sailed between them, pulling up before she hit the wall.

Bon Bon! Vinyl yelled. Ground her!

“On it!” Bon Bon yelled back. Unfurling her hook’s rope, she hurled it with practiced precision at the pegasus. It wrapped around her right wing, hooked there. Bon Bon grit her teeth and pulled, sending the very surprised vampire careening back towards the earth.

Vinyl was waiting for her. Her hindlegs shot out. Crack! They caught her across the jaw with enough force to send her skidding across the floor.

Pain shot through Vinyl’s skull at the exertion, but she brushed it aside as she gave chase. She knew they couldn’t afford to let up for even a second.

Bon Bon seemed to know that, too. She dashed forwards, hook clasped between her teeth. She reared back to strike, but the the Queen was faster, rolling out of the way and letting Bon Bon’s blow come down on empty air. With another flap of her wings, she flipped into the air, darted forward, and sank her teeth into Bon Bon’s throat.

Bon Bon!

Or, well, she tried.

“Gah!” the Queen yelped, recoiling, hooves rising to her mouth.

“Always helps to come prepared,” Bon Bon said. Dented steel glinted through the holes the Queen’s teeth had torn in her cloak.

She spun around, reared up, and planted both hooves directly into her face. 

The Queen stumbled backwards, stunned, giving Vinyl just enough time to run up behind her. She wrapped both forelimbs around the Queen’s neck, wrapped both hindlimbs around her barrel, and began to pull.

Time for a little payback, she said, grunting as she twisted. Since I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’ll get back up from this!

“Only… ninety-nine?” the Queen choked out, clawing at Vinyl’s hold. “Give me… some credit!”

She managed to get one of her wings free, then the other. She propelled both of them straight up and into the axle of one of the clocktower’s components, Vinyl taking the full brunt of the impact. It loosened her grip just enough that the Queen was able to throw her off. She herself remained in the air, hovering over them. 

“So, a vampire and a hunter, working together?” She laughed. “You make me sick!”

“Funny,” Bon Bon said. “I was about to say the same thing about you.”

Vinyl picked herself off the cold wooden floor. Her head spun; she grit her teeth and tried to force her vision straight. But she needed time.

What are you trying to do, here? she asked. Why are you attacking the caravans?

“No caravans, no blood supply,” the Queen said. “Without blood, the vampires of Equestria will be forced to return to the old ways! Vampires on top, ponies as our prey!”

Funny thing to say, for someone who wasn’t there for the old ways, Vinyl said. You have no idea what you’re talking about.

“Oh, and you do!?” Amber shouted. “If you really were around back then, then you’d know that I’m right!”

That’s exactly why I know you aren’t!

She lunged forwards. Bon Bon followed her lead, once again sending her hook spinning into the air. This time, however, the Queen was ready for it. She dodged to the side, letting the hook sail past her.

“Sorry!” she said. “That’s not going to work twice!”

“Oh yeah?”

The hook wrapped around the axle and caught. Bon Bon reared up on her hindlegs and yanked on her end of the rope. Loosened form its cradle by the previous impact, it broke from its holdings with a metallic screech—falling down right on top of the Queen.

Caught under the axle’s immense weight, the Queen plummeted towards the ground. Gritting her teeth, she outstretched all four hooves and landed, the wooden floor splintering underneath her—but it held, just barely, as she arrested her fall, wings outstretched, the wrought-iron axle balanced lengthwise on her back.

This gave Vinyl plenty of time to act. Grabbing up a fallen piece of broken wood with her magic, she ran forwards and smashed it across the Queen’s face, the board shattering at the impact. Then, taking the jagged pieces that she still held, she plunged them towards the Queen’s neck.

One of the Queen’s wings shot out, shielding her from the attack but ruining several of her feathers. Snarling, the Queen heaved the axle off of her, sending it crashing to the ground. The whole building seemed to shake; it certainly caught Vinyl off balance, sending her head spinning once again. 

“You two are more trouble than you’re worth!” the Queen said. “Who the heck are you!?”

“Just a couple of concerned civillians,” Bon Bon said. The Queen’s eyes widened; she’d been too focused on Vinyl to realize that Bon Bon had gotten behind her.

Bon Bon wrapped her forelimbs around the Queen’s shoulders and bent her backwards, pinning her wings and her legs and holding her in place.

“Vinyl!” she yelled. “Now would be a good time!”

Fighting to keep herself steady, Vinyl darted forwards, fangs bared, a shriek escaping her maw. Almost…

The Queen swung her hindlegs off the ground and kicked out at Vinyl, catching her in the face. Vinyl’s muzzle crumpled. She reeled back, black ichor flowing from her jaw.

Using the momentum, the Queen swung upwards, getting her wings free and flipping over Bon Bon’s head. Landing, she immediately kicked off again, ramming her shoulder into Bon Bon’s spine, sending her sprawling across the floor as well. She took to the air once again.

“Well whoever you are,” she said, “You should have known better than to come after the Queen of Blood!”

Why that name? Vinyl asked, through gritted teeth. She’d managed to pick herself up, but only barely. Her vision swam. She was losing blood, she could feel it. More than she could afford. Why the Queen?

“The Queen of Blood was an example of what vampires are meant to become!” she said. “I’m just continuing her legacy!”

Aren’t you a bit old to believe in fairy-tales?

“The Queen of Blood was real!” Amber snarled. She perched atop the back of her ‘throne’. “And I have proof!”

“Every account of her appearing matches up to a historic natural disaster or a plague!” she continued. “Every single one! The council tried to cover it up, just like they did with everything else about us, but they couldn’t hide the truth forever!”

“And this town? This was the first to fall!” she said. “Two centuries ago, Windfall was wiped off the map! The records say it was a great fire, but I know different! The wall around the town? It was built afterwards, to keep her away!”

“Every single resident of the town perished!” she said. “Except for one! The Queen herself! She started here! Her name was—”

Vinyl tackled her through the clockface.

Glass rained down around them as they plummeted, flashing and glinting in the light of the setting sun as it tumbled alongside them. It cut into Vinyl’s skin.

Amber tried to open her wings, but Vinyl held them tight to her sides. Amber screamed. Vinyl did not, even as the ground rushed up at them.

They hit the dirt. The impact rattled Vinyl’s bones, knocked the wind from her lungs. She cringed as several of her organs tried to rearrange themselves.

She coughed. The bile came up black. She could barely see it anyway.

She heard a groan, beside her. The Queen of Blood peeled herself off the ground. She was bruised, and bleeding, but not as badly as Vinyl. One of her wings was bent backwards.

“Oh, you’re… so dead,” she said, through gritted teeth. She tried to move towards Vinyl… but winced. She glared down at her.

“You’ll be gone soon, anyway,” she muttered, and began to limp away, disappearing into the alleys of the town.

Vinyl lay on her back and tried not to move. The late afternoon sun beat down on her. 

After some time, the door to the clocktower burst open.

“Vinyl!” Bon Bon yelled.  She rushed over, knelt down beside Vinyl. “Are you okay?”

Vinyl winced. Do I look okay?

“No,” Bon Bon said. “You look very not okay.”

Darn.

“We need to get you out of here. I’m guessing you can’t walk?”

Do I even still have legs?

“Yes, you still have legs,” Bon Bon said. She reached under Vinyl’s shoulders, lifting her up slightly.

Good to know, Vinyl said, ‘cause I can’t feel ‘em.

Bon Bon began to drag her away from the crash site. For Vinyl, it hurt like the dickens, but dazed as she was, she couldn’t complain.

They took up refuge in one of the empty houses. Bon Bon kicked open the door and pulled Vinyl inside, depositing her on a rug in the entryway. It began to stain almost immediately. 

Bon Bon slammed the door shut, threw the deadbolt, and peered through the window.

“No sign of her,” she said. “Yet, anyway.”

She’ll be back, Vinyl said. Eventually.

“I wish she knew how to stay down,” Bon Bon said. She turned around and knelt down beside Vinyl. 

“Looks like a lot of external wounds,” she said, examining her. “Multiple broken bones, probably a bunch of fractured ribs…”

Vinyl coughed.

“…And a lot of internal bleeding.”

Thanks for the update, doc. What’s the bad news?

“I don’t get it, your wounds should be healing by now,” Bon Bon said. “Why aren’t—Celestia, Vinyl, when was the last time you ate?”

…Before the caravan, I think. she said. Maybe a few days before? I ran out. Was hoping they’d give guards a freebie, but—

“Before the caravan?” Bon Bon interrupted. “You mean before you had to regenerate your entire head!?”

…Yeah…

“And you’ve just been giving away your blood to thralls all this time!?”

They needed it!

Bon Bon rubbed her forehead. “Ugh, you and Lyra, I swear to…”

She reached around to the back of her neck. Her metal collar clanged as it hit the ground.

What are you…?

“Quiet,” Bon Bon said. She reached under Vinyl’s head, cradling it and lifting it up to her throat.

Bon Bon, no—

“Drink.”

Bon Bon, I can’t.

“I am freely offering this to you,” Bon Bon said. “No guilt. I trust you.”

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah, well, against my better judgment, I do, and I need you alive right now,” she said. “So get it over with.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Vinyl opened her jaw wide, wider than any pony should have been able to. The tips of her fangs pressed against Bon Bon’s skin. Her eyes shifted towards Bon Bon’s.

This is going to hurt. Like, a lot.

“Just don’t turn me.”

Never, Vinyl said. You’d make a terrible vampire.

She bit down. Her teeth sank easily into Bon Bon’s throat.

And as she did, she also tore a small hole in the inside of her own cheek. Just big enough to bleed.

Bon Bon’s teeth grit. She grunted, but nothing more.









Vinyl grabbed one of the tatters of Bon Bon’s cloak and ripped it off with her teeth. She wrapped it around Bon Bon’s neck and tied it tight, making a makeshift bandage for her.

“Thanks,” Bon Bon said. She lay sitting against the wall.

How do you feel? Dizzy? Nauseous? 

“A little of both.”

It’ll pass, Vinyl said. It’s just minor hypovolemia. You’ll feel better once you get some water.

Bon Bon nodded. “I’ve lost blood before.”

Alright, Vinyl said. Are you okay to walk?

“Yes.”

Good. She stood up. Go back to the gate and wait for me there.

Bon Bon sat up. “What?”

You’re in no condition to fight, Vinyl said. Go to the gate. I’ll take care of Skies.

“By yourself?”

I can handle her, Vinyl said. Now, anyway.

Bon Bon shook her head. “Vinyl, I’m not going to let you—”

I’m not giving you a choice. Go to the gate. Wait for me there until sundown. Don’t look back.

“Alright, fine, I’ll go.” She began to stand. “Don’t blame me if you get—” 

Her eyes widened.

“Did you just…?”

I’m sorry, Vinyl said. You can punch me for this later. Go.

Bon Bon’s glare was legendary, but nonetheless she turned on her hooves and headed to the door.

“You and I are going to have words if you live through this,” she said, and then she was gone.

Vinyl let out a breath. After a moment, she too turned towards the door.

A warmth she hadn’t felt in almost two centuries coursed through her. Already she felt her strength returning. And… other things long since buried.

Something ancient settled on her face. Her eyes shone. She grit her teeth.

Accept no substitutions, she thought to herself. She looked towards the clocktower, just visible through a window.

Tonight, the real Bloody Queen would live again.
> The Past Bites 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl stood atop the clocktower, one hoof wrapped around its spire, the other shielding her eyes from the light of the setting sun.

She was starting to remember this place. Not the buildings, no, but from up here the streets looked roughly the same. She could almost pick out the alley where she’d spent those hellish first three nights of her immortal life. 

Flapping wings, behind her. The sounds of hooves landing on the roof.

For a vampire, you’re not very quiet, Vinyl said.

“Why bother?” the Queen said. “We both know how this is going to turn out.”

We’ll see.

“So where’s the hunter?”

Gone, Vinyl said. It’s just you and me.

“Too bad,” the Queen said. “I guess I’ll just have to deal with her later.”

Vinyl snorted. 

Don’t count on it, she said. That mare’s full of surprises.

She turned around. Amber Skies stood on the edge of the rooftop, facing her. The shadow of the tower’s spire fell across her face.

Let’s get this over with, Vinyl said.

“Yes,” the Queen said. “Let’s.”

She moved first. She darted towards Vinyl, her wings bursting from her sides. Her teeth bared, she lunged forwards.

Vinyl didn’t move.

Instead, she lit her horn.

The Queen’s head slammed down into the roof, the rest of her body following, sending shingles flying as she skidded to a stop.

“Oh, you’re so dead…” she grunted, pulling herself up from the groove she’d left. But when she looked to where Vinyl had been standing, all she saw was the setting sun.

“Where’d you go!?” she demanded.

What do you mean? I’m right here.

Vinyl looked down at the Queen as she glanced about. She’d leapt to the top of the spire that jutted out from the roof of the tower; she was now clinging to its side. Silently, she adjusted her position.

“Where!?” she snarled. “I thought you were a vampire!”

What? Is this not how you think vampires are supposed to fight?

Vinyl dropped down, landing without a sound behind the Queen.

You know, I realize it’s ironic for me to say this, but…

She reared up, teeth bared.

Sometimes quiet has its upsides.

Darting her head forwards, she sank her fangs into the base of the Queen’s right wing.

The Queen screamed. She tried to pull free, but that only succeeded in tearing her flesh further. 

Blood flowed into Vinyl’s mouth. It tasted like tar. She fought the urge to swallow and instead focused on applying as much pressure with her jaws as she could until she heard what she was looking for.

Snap.

Agh!” the Queen screamed. At last, Vinyl released her grip, the Queen stumbling away from her. Vinyl spat the toxic substance onto the shingles. It’s taste remained, however.

The Queen cradled her wing. It hung uselessly from her back.

“You’re dead,” she snarled, through gritted teeth.

That’s the third time you’ve said that, Vinyl remarked. You’re getting in a rut.

The Queen just snarled and lunged at her. Vinyl did nothing as she leapt on top of her and pinned her to the ground, both of them just inches from the edge of the roof.

“I’ll rip your throat out!” she yelled. “I’ll bleed you dry! There’ll be nothing left but a smear when I’m done with you!”

Go ahead and try.

Fury dancing in her eyes, the Queen opened her jaw wide, fangs glinting in the sunlight, and went for her throat.

Her teeth closed on nothing.

She drew back, only to watch her hooves sink to the rooftop as Vinyl’s body faded into mist.

Her eyes bulged. Her jaw worked, but no sound emerged.

What’s the matter? 

The Queen whipped her head around. Vinyl was behind her, the last of her form rematerializing.

Cat got your tongue?

And she bucked her off the roof.









The Queen plummeted down the side of the clocktower. Her ruined wing fluttered uselessly at her side.

She flung out a hoof in a last-ditch effort to halt her descent. It caught the edge of one of the clock hands. The jerk must have pulled her shoulder from its socket, but nonetheless she held on.

Vinyl watched her over the lip of the roof. Exhaling, she slipped over the edge and dug her hooves into the brickwork.

The Queen pulled herself up. The clock’s hands had stopped moving; a result of their earlier confrontation. She was lucky they hadn’t come loose. She was also fortunate to enough to have fallen on the side with the broken face, the hole in the glass within her reach if she could just make her way down the length of the hour hand—

Nice catch.

The Queen’s head snapped up towards Vinyl, who was standing on the side of the building.

“What are you!?” she demanded.

A vampire, Vinyl said. Same as you.

“That’s impossible!” she yelled. “Vampires can’t turn into mist! That’s a myth!”

Is it? Vinyl said. The Bloody Queen could do it. Some successor you are.

“T-the Queen?” Amber stammered. “What do you mean!?”

In answer, Vinyl leapt down at her. Amber ran down the length of the hand; Vinyl landed gracefully on its tip. Her horn lit. A matching glow wrapped around Amber Skies’ throat.

“Hrk—”

She threw her through the clockface. The sound echoed across the town.

After a moment, Vinyl stepped through the fresh hole in the glass. The Queen stood in the middle of a pile of glass shards. Black blood trickled down her forehead.

She lunged forwards, hissing, one hoof pulled back and ready to strike. Vinyl ducked under her swing, and within the same movement, before Amber could even blink, she’d planted both hindhooves into her chest.

Amber landed on her back, once more among the collection of broken glass that littered the floor. She gasped for breath.

What, did you think the mist myth just appeared out of nowhere? Vinyl said. I’d have thought someone calling themselves ‘The Queen of Blood’ would know better than that.

Amber picked herself off the ground, teeth grit.

Actually, on second thought, maybe I wouldn’t. A pony who knew better would’ve picked a better name.

“I’m not a pony!” Amber shrieked. She leapt forwards again. Vinyl calmly stepped out of the way, letting her fly past.

You’re no Queen of Blood, either, she said. Come on, Skies. Enough with the act.

“My name is the Queen of Blood!” She caught herself, skidded across the floor on her hooves, and came at Vinyl again.

Vinyl jumped this time, sailing over Amber’s attempted blow. She landed on the pegasus’ back.

That name ain’t yours to take, Skies.

Amber swung her good wing at her. Vinyl merely leapt off. She landed on a ceiling beam—upside down, hanging like a bat.

You must be getting tired, Vinyl said. After all, you haven’t had time to eat since you healed up. All your food is below us, right?

“Yeah?” Amber said. “And what about you? You were in worse shape than me!”

Oh, me? Vinyl said. I feel great. Better than I have in centuries. It’s been a long time since I last felt full.

“Last felt—” Amber laughed. “You drank from a pony, didn’t you!”

Ding ding ding, Vinyl said. We have a winner.

“So much for those lofty ideals of yours!” Amber cried. “When it came down to it, we’re exactly the same!”

Almost, but not quite, Vinyl said. My meal was freely given.

Amber’s eyes widened. “The hunter—!”

Like I said. Full of surprises.

Amber’s wing twitched. Vinyl noticed it. It had almost fully healed.

She leapt down at Amber. The mare was ready, waiting for it even. She reared up and brandished her forehooves.

Vinyl once more tugged on the little bit of magic in her core. Her body evaporated. She’d forgotten how odd it felt, turning to mist. Like a light tugging on every piece of her body, all at once. 

But she ignored the sensation and focused on pushing her incorporeal form past Amber’s body.

She resolidified behind Amber. Spinning around, she latched her teeth into her hindleg. Amber winced, but she didn’t have time to do anything.

Twisting her body around, Vinyl yanked her off the ground and hurtled her towards the wall. She impacted back-first and slid down to the floor.

Vinyl walked up to her dazed form, laid sprawled out on the ground. She stepped over her and pressed her hoof into her throat.

Enough of this, she said. You’re not going to kill me, so let’s have a little chat.

Amber said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her glare said plenty.

Look. Kid. I get it, she said. You spend every day of your miserable life trying to keep your head above the water. Life is crap. And then one day, a mysterious stranger swoops out of nowhere, bites you in the neck, and suddenly you’re immortal, you’ve got all this power… and what, they tell you to keep your head down and pretend like it never happened? No one could be expected to take that well.

“We shouldn’t have to!” Amber said. “We’re apex predators! We deserve better!”

…Apex predators?

Vinyl began to laugh, a hoarse, raspy thing.

“Why are you laughing!?”

Because you’re such a newblood, Vinyl said. Vampires aren’t apex predators. We aren’t even predators!

She narrowed her eyes.

Vampires are rats that stalk towns in the night and pick off the weak. We’re vermin that can’t live without ponies to mooch off of. We can’t even reproduce on our own!

We aren’t apex predators, Vinyl said. We’re parasites. You think the Société made us into vermin? We were always this way. Even in the old days. Especially in the old days. At least now we get to pretend that we’re still equine.

“But the Queen—”

The Bloody Queen? Vinyl said. Oh, you’re a riot! You think she was any better? 

“The Queen of Blood was an example of what Vampires could have been,” Amber said, but a hint of doubt had crept into her voice.

The Queen of Blood was a nobody! Vinyl roared. Just some back-alley brat throwing a twenty-year temper tantrum! You think she was some great crusader? She could have cared less! She was too busy getting a high off of powers she never deserved in the first place! But you’re right about one thing. She is a perfect example of what vampires could have been. Which is why it’s a good thing we were smart enough to become the opposite!

“But—”

That’s the one good thing the Bloody Queen ever did, Vinyl continued. Without her, without what she did, there never would have been a council. There wouldn’t even have been a Société. We’d still be a bunch of animals!

Do you want to know what happened to the Queen? she asked. Do you think she died fighting the good fight? Do you think she went out kicking? No! She died nailed to a post in the middle of a town with nothing. That is how the Queen died. Broken and bleeding because she picked the wrong night, the wrong village, to have some fun.

“H-how do you know all this?” Amber Skies stammered.

Do you want to know what her last words were? Vinyl asked. What this noble, this wise, this all-powerful vampire’s last words were? Do you?

“N-no—”

Too bad! Vinyl shouted. Because she didn’t have any! She died whimpering, because they took her voice! They broke her horn, and they broke her legs, and then they shoved coals down her throat until she stopped! Talking!

And you know what? Vinyl said, her roar dying down to a whisper. 

She deserved every second of it.

“Y-you’re her!” Amber choked out. “You’re the Bloody Queen!”

My name, Vinyl said, the fury of the ages in her eyes, is Virtuosa Mezzoforte Scratch. And I am not the Queen of Blood.

“But you were!” Amber said. “Two hundred years ago—it was you!”

Vinyl pressed down on her throat and leaned in close. Her wrathful gaze bored into Amber’s own fear-stricken pupils.

The Queen, she said, is dead. And I intend to keep it that way.

So, what’s your choice? Vinyl said, drawing back. You going to quit playing pretend? Or is your devotion to the Queen so important that you’re willing to find out what it takes to put someone like you down?

“Y-you wouldn’t,” Amber said. “The Council doesn’t execute vampires.”

Good thing I’m not part of the council, then. Make your choice.

Amber bit her lip. She looked up at Vinyl. She looked to both sides.

At last, she hung her head.

Smart choice.

Vinyl stepped off of her. She curled up and began coughing.

Get out of here, Vinyl said. Find yourself a new name and a new home. Getting new papers shouldn’t be hard for someone like you. Lay low for a couple of centuries. Make some pony friends. Fall in love. Do whatever it is newbloods do these days. And don’t ever let me hear your name and the Queen of Blood in the same sentence again. Don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on you, either. Got it?

Amber nodded. She was crying, Vinyl noticed.

Cheer up, she said. Life among ponies has its perks. You’ll figure that out… eventually. Now get out of here before I change my mind.

Amber picked herself up off the ground and stumbled over towards the open window. Her wings flared out.

She cast one last look back at Vinyl. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then seemed to decide against it.

Then, she leapt through the hole in the glass and flew away.

Vinyl watched the pegasus’ form fade off into the distance. At last, when she was no longer visible, her shoulders slumped. She let out a long breath.

I’m getting too old for this, she thought to herself, and turned towards the door.

Her horn lit. There was one last thing she had to do before she left.

A jagged shard of glass lifted off the ground.









“Where’s Skies?” Bon Bon asked as Vinyl stepped through the bent holes in the gate. The sun was just setting, but no one had left yet. The thralls they’d freed—no, they were full-fledged vampires, now—loitered off to the side. The looks they cast her were wary, as well they should have been, considering how she looked at the moment. Many of them were faces unfamiliar to her.

Less so to the emaciated ponies following along behind Vinyl, many of whom ran over to join their loved ones.

Dealt with, Vinyl said.

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow. “Dealt with?”

Dealt with, Vinyl repeated. I see you had some fun on your way out.

“Well, like you said,” Bon Bon said, glancing towards the ex-thralls. “They needed it.”

Mmm. Vinyl glanced to the side. I’m, uh… sorry about… earlier.

“If you ever do that again I will personally see you locked up in the deepest pit of Tartarus.”

Vinyl winced. Well, that’s…. Better than I was expecting.

“So,” Bon Bon said. “What are we going to do about them?”

She gestured towards the crowd.

I’ll send word to the Council. They’ll handle cleanup, especially when they find out whose fault all of this is.

She sighed. Still, a city half-filled with vampires? That’s going to be interesting, no matter what way you slice it.

“Let’s hope none of them turn out like Miss Skies,” Bon Bon said.

Nah. Vampires like Skies? 

Vinyl snorted.

They’re one in a million.
> The Past Bites Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vinyl bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, sighed, and finally turned the doorknob.

“Welcome back,” Octavia said, standing at the end of the hall. “And just where have you been?”

Vinyl winced.

Oh, you know, she said, shutting the door to their home behind her. Around. On business.

“On business,” Octavia repeated.

Secret Vinyl business, Vinyl said. She slipped past Octavia and into the kitchen. Did you get my present?

“I did,” Octavia said. “I appreciate your efforts to bribe me with candy, but I’m afraid it’s not going to work. Even if they are my favourites.”

It was worth a shot, Vinyl said. How have things been around here?

“Oh, you know,” Octavia said. “Typical for Ponyville.”

So not typical at all?

“Why would you expect anything different?”

Vinyl grinned. Pulling open the fridge, she opened the hidden compartment in the base and pulled out one of her bags. The vibrant red liquid sloshed around inside as she tore it open with her teeth and began to drink down its contents.

A light warmth seeped into her veins. Not an unpleasant sensation, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

And that suited her just fine.
> The Present is Strange 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pinkie had seen a lot of weird things in her time. Actually, she saw weird things all the time. She had a lot of eyes.

As such, she didn’t so much as flinch when the toad in the purple sportcoat and the tophat walked through the doors of Sugarcube Corner and sauntered up to the counter.

It was a little weird that everyone else was flinching for once, though.

“Hello!” she said, smiling. “Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! Assuming that you are, in fact, actually here.”

“Well, where else would I be?” the toad said. He spoke in a high-Canterlot accent, or something like one. Actually, he sounded a bit like Fancy Pants. Leaning over, Pinkie confirmed that, no, he wasn’t wearing any.

“Elsewhere!” she replied.

“Well, the sign over the door didn’t say ‘Elsewhere’,” the toad said. “It said ‘Sugarcube Corner’. Where is Here?”

“Here is here, of course. The one and only Sugarcube Corner!”

The toad croaked happily. “Then I must be here! The sign said so!”

“Then welcome to here!” Pinkie said back, equally as cheerful. “And since you are here, and not anywhere else, what can I get for you, Mr. Toad?”

“I’ll take your finest baklava, if you’d be so kind. You do stock baklava, don’t you?”

“Only the best this side of Over There!”

She slid over to the display case, which did, in fact, contain a baklava. She’d baked it this morning; she’d had a funny feeling when she’d woken up that someone was going to ask for one. Of course, she’d been expecting a pony, not a toad. Ever the conscientious baker, however, the thought of this newest customer’s dietary requirements was first on her mind.

“Do you want flies on that, Mr. Toad? There’s always some big, juicy ones flying around by the trash cans out back!”

“Good heavens, no!” the toad exclaimed. “On a baklava? What kind of toad do you take me for?”

“A very strange one!”

She rung him up. Croaking happily, he took his baklava to one of the tables by the window, to the continued stares of everyone else in the bakery. Well, that was no fun; how was anypony supposed to eat a baklava with an audience?

Moving her right front hoof courtwise and her left front hoof in a direction that didn’t actually have a name (she was pretty sure), she mumbled a few words in an ancient language that her mother had taught her as a filly.

“Stopio edrych, os gwelwch yn dda.”

One by one, the other eaters turned back to their food and their company, and the toad took a big, satisfied bite out of the desert. Pinkie smiled. There were supposed to be things in life that couldn’t be solved with a well-placed perception filter, but it sure didn’t feel that way sometimes.

A new customer stepped up to the counter, and thoughts of the toad faded from her mind.

After all, weirder things had happened.









“Dad, please! Miss Cheerilee is going to be mad if I’m late again!”

Winter ‘Bloo’ Bell had had weirder mornings. Actually, this particular routine had become somewhat commonplace over the last few months—but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady,” Noteworthy said. He was currently standing between his daughter and the front door to their house. “You know the rules.”

“Yeah! I do!” Winter Bell retorted. “And one of them is, ‘Get to school on time’!”

“And you will get to school on time,” Noteworthy said. “With me walking you there.”

“Dad, come on!”

“It’s not up for discussion, Winter Bell!”

Bell shook her head. “C’mon, dad, it’s embarrassing! None of the other fillies have to have their dad walk them to school!”

“Yes, and none of the other fillies have the ability to warp reality, either.”

“Right,” Winter Bell said. “So if anything, I’m more prepared to walk to school by myself!”

Noteworthy sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle.

“Bell, you know why I’m doing this.”

“Yeah, I do,” Winter Bell shot back. “And it’s stupid! I can walk myself to school, dad! I’m not a little filly anymore!”

“Bell, you’re thirteen—”

Winter Bell cut him off with a stamp of her hoof. “That’s it! We’re done here!”

She focused inwards, on the song of her soul, and began to play a chord. A low, lingering note began to build as the air around her distorted.

Now her dad looked cross. “Winter Bell, don’t you dare tele—”

Space warped, reality bent, and suddenly Winter Bell was gone, leaving Noteworthy alone in the house.

“—port.”

He sighed.

“I am so going to ground her for this.”









“He is so going to ground me for that.”

What she’d done wasn’t exactly teleporting, really. Teleporting implied moving from one place to another near-instantaneously. Winter Bell hadn’t done that; in fact, she hadn’t moved an inch. The space around her, however…

The distinction wasn’t really important, but Bell had always thought that her way was cooler.

The place she had not-teleported to was an alley between two houses off Ponyville’s main thoroughfare, a few streets over from her house. This wasn’t her first time making use of it—it was hard to find a secluded spot in Ponyville, and ponies might get suspicious if they saw a filly not-teleporting. At least here she could be reasonably certain she’d be alone.

Well, as alone as she ever was.

I didn’t teach you to warp space just so you could avoid your father, you know.

“Then what did you teach me to teleport for?” Bell replied, stepping towards the mouth of the alley. She poked her head out, made sure no one was looking too closely, and slipped onto the thoroughfare. 

A series of colours and sounds flashed through her mind.

“Yeah, I know he’s just worried about me,” Winter Bell said.

More colours.

“And I was scared, too!” Winter Bell said. “But Hollyleaf is gone now! Lyra sent her packing, like, six months ago!”

Yes, but that doesn’t mean that someone else couldn’t try. He just wants to make sure you don’t get hurt, sweetheart.

“And what’s he gonna do if someone tries to jump us? Nag them to death?”

That’s not fair to your father.

“Well, he’s not being very fair to me, either.”

Is it really so bad to just let him walk you to school?

Bell rolled her eyes. “Yes! Obviously!”

I fail to see why.

“Yeah, well maybe if you—”

Bell’s thought was interrupted, however, as someone galloping the other way down the street clipped her shoulder, sending her staggering to the side.

Are you alright?

“I’m fine,” Bell muttered, catching herself. She spun around and immediately spotted her assailant. She recognized him; he was one of the colts from her class, and he hadn’t even slowed down.

“Hey, Coil Feint!” she yelled after the retreating colt. “Where are you going? School’s this way!”

The colt just hurried along. Winter Bell stared after him for a few moments.

Do you want to go after him?

Bell shook her head. “Nah. He’ll be fine. Besides, we’re already running late.”

After all, who cared if some random colt from her class decided to skip that day? She’d had weirder mornings.









“Bye mom! I’m off to school!”

“Have a great day, Muffin!” Ditzy Doo shouted back from the kitchen.

“I will!”

She heard the door pull closed.

Ditzy sighed. 

Today was going to be weird. She didn’t usually take days off during the week, but the postmaster had insisted. Some silliness about labor laws. But with Dinky at school, Amethyst currently in Canterlot, and Dezzy not due to reappear for another two weeks, she wasn’t really sure what she was going to do with herself.

Maybe she’d visit Time Turner later. The half-mad stallion’s workshop was always a good place to start when one needed a little more ‘electricity’ in their day.

First, though, she needed to put away the laundry.

She finished stacking up the morning’s breakfast dishes in the sink and headed into their little living room. She’d brought the laundry in off the line earlier in the morning; the small, folded pile waited for her in the basket, which sat beside the green sofa that she sometimes liked to nap on. It wasn’t a very large pile, as one might expect, just her mailmare uniform, a couple of bedsheets, a towel, and one of Dinky’s tiny dresses. Picking the basket up with a wing, she slid it onto her back for easy carrying.

Her daughter’s room was the closest, being just off the main hall of their little bungalow. The door was closed; this got her to raise an eyebrow. But she shrugged (not too hard, lest she disturb the basket) and pushed it open with her head.

Ditzy rolled her eyes as she stepped carefully over a small pile of Dinky’s toys that had built up on the floor, one of many. How many times had she told her daughter to clean her room, now? She was certain it had to be in the double digits, at least.

Treading gently, she made her way over to the closet, a little thing with sliding doors inset into the wall. She reached for the door with a wing, and, in the ghostly parallel she’d so become accustomed to, watched it being pulled open mere seconds from now, revealing…

She froze, wingtips just brushing the handle. The basket tumbled off of her back, spilling its contents onto the floor as she stepped back, away from the closet, trying to process what she was seeing.

The potential future she’d been watching changed. It now showed the closet door being thrown open, rocking on its sliding track, revealing…

Ditzy let this one play out, once she’d confirmed that nothing bad was going to happen if she did. Stepping forward, she threw the closet door open, sending it rocking on its sliding track, revealing…

…that the clothes and their hangers that should have been inside had been dumped unceremoniously to the floor, giving her a full view of the tunnel that now sat where the back wall was meant to be.

A tunnel, walls a red and black checkerboard that seemed to stretch on forever, that lead straight on at a level altitude from the outside wall of the house.

The corners of Ditzy’s mouth turned ever so slightly upwards.

Maybe today wasn’t going to be quite so boring after all.
> The Present is Strange 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The school’s bell let out its last ring just as Winter Bell slipped through the classroom door, out of breath and sweating.

Cheerilee, standing by the blackboard, cast her a weary look. Winter Bell grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

Rolling her eyes, Cheerilee motioned towards the desks, and Bell scampered to her seat. Hers was near the back of the classroom, on the right side. She heard a few muffled snickers as she sat down.

That was way too close, she thought.

You could have avoided all of this if you’d just let Noteworthy—

Not now, Momma.

She pulled open her desk and retrieved her notebook, flipping to a clean page as Cheerilee began her lessons. They were starting with maths, today, basic algebra, picking up where they’d left off yesterday. Numbers and letters appeared on the board in what seemed to Bell like completely random orders to the squeal of chalk.

It looks like you weren’t the only late pony today, sweetheart.

Bell glanced up, scanning the rows of desks. Sure enough, one was empty, towards the front.

Who sat there, again?

That colt you saw running away earlier, if I’m not mistaken.

Bell raised an eyebrow. Coil Feint?

That’s the one.

Movement, in her peripheral vision. She glanced to the side.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one to notice the colt’s absence. Dinky Doo, Miss Ditzy’s daughter who sat in the very back of the classroom, was also staring at the colt’s desk. Bell watched as her eyes flicked furtively to the door, then the blackboard, then the clock, and back to his empty desk again. Her bottom lip rolled between her teeth.

And then, as if she had felt her staring, she turned and locked eyes with Winter Bell.

Bell’s attention snapped back to the blackboard.

Something’s going on.

Definitely.









Ditzy ran her hoof across the checkered wall of the impossible tunnel. It was solid, and smooth, like a block of marble. Unlike a tunnel made out of blocks of marble, however, the walls here were continuous, with no obvious seams or breaks. The entire thing was carved from one solid piece of… whatever this was.

Well, the important point was that tunnel was solid, and thus stable. That was a good sign. 

Probably.

Ditzy took a step back and blew a breath out the side of her muzzle, catching a few stray hairs from her mane. 

“Okay,” she said to herself. “Pro: tunnel is way too physical to be a temporal anomaly, which means it’s probably not my fault.”

She nodded.

“Con: This isn’t my field, and if I’m not responsible for this thing appearing in my daughter’s closet, I have no idea who is.”

She swallowed.

“I am so glad Dinky’s at school.”









“Where in Equestria is he?”

It was lunchtime-slash-recess at Cheerilee’s schoolhouse, which normally entailed a lot of trading of lunch items, joyful squealing, kickball, and drastic misuse of playground equipment. And there was plenty of that going on, still, but with the exception of one particular group of four children, gathered in the shade of an old oak tree and far away from the attention of their classmates.

Aside from Winter Bell, who was eavesdropping on them, of course.

“Who, Coil?” Rumble asked. He was sitting against the tree, nestled between its roots.

“Yes, Coil!” Dinky Doo hissed. “Who else would I be talking about!?”

“He’s probably just got the flu or something.”

“He was fine yesterday,” Coconut Cream interjected, though her attention was currently occupied by the blue and purple tail hair she was braiding in her hooves.

“Yeah,” Toola Roola said, her own attention diverted by the fact that she was the one having her tail braided. “He didn’t seem sick at all.”

“So? You can get sick really quick overnight.” Rumble put his hooves behind his head and leaned his head back, letting his eyes fall closed. “Sometimes colds creep up on you.”

Dinky frowned and began to pace, the light filtering through the tree dancing across her coat.

“Well, I don’t like it,” she declared.

“You don’t think he moved back to Fillydelphia, do you?” Toola asked.

Coconut Cream shook her head. “There’s no way. He would have told us!”

“Well, maybe his parents sprung it on him at the last minute,” Toola shot back.

“What, after only a month? As if.”

“It could happen!”

Dinky sighed. “Girls, please. He didn’t move away. His parents would have had to have told Cheerilee, and if they had then Cheerilee wouldn’t have read his name out during attendance.”

“Ha!” Coconut said with a smirk. “Told you!”

Toola stuck her tongue out at her.

“And I don’t think he’s sick, either,” Dinky said.

Rumble opened one eye. “Then what’s your big idea, genius?” 

“I don’t know,” Dinky said. She bit her lip. “But… do you think he might have…”

“Gone to the Carolish?” Toola said. 

The others all immediately turned on her. She shrank back.

“What?” she said. “I thought that was where you were going with that!”

“Not so loud, dummy!” Coconut hissed. “We don’t want anyone else finding out about that!”

Winter Bell, pressed up against the opposite side of the tree from them, raised an eyebrow.

What’s a ‘Carolish’?

I do not know. I’ve never heard of it before.

That’s never a good sign.

“Anyway…” Dinky rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. I think he might have gone to the… you -know-what.”

“Alone?” Rumble said, eyebrow raised. “Do you really think he has the guts for that? It’s Coil we’re talking about, here.”

“I know that!” Dinky said. “But where else would he be?”

“At home! Sick! Or maybe he’s just skipping school, I dunno! Point is, it’s definitely not worth getting worried about, Dinks.”

Dinky scowled. She was about to say something else, but then—

“Heads up!”

The shout came from the main area of the yard, and Winter Bell turned to look just as the kickball was about to hit her in the face.

She yelped and flung her hooves up, the large rubber ball bouncing harmlessly off of them with a sharp phunt, but that did little to stop her cover from being blown. When she lowered her limbs, she found four foals peeking at her from around the side of the tree.

“Winter Bell?”

She flinched. Busted.

Rumble was the first to round the corner, advancing on her with his wings unfurled and a glare in his eyes. “What are you doing here? Were you spying on us? What did you hear!?”

“I-I was just passing by—”

“No you weren’t,” Dinky said, advancing herself. Bell's back pressed up against the bark of the tree. “We would have seen you. Why were you eavesdropping on us?”

“Uh…!”

Tell them about their friend.

“C-Coil Feint!” Bell blurted out.

Dinky froze. Her eyes narrowed.

“What about him?”

“I, uh… I saw him, earlier,” she said. “On main street, running away from the school. You guys were wondering where he was, right? I saw you looking worried when he wasn’t there for attendance this morning.”

“See?” Rumble said, relaxing again. “He got sick and ran home.”

Dinky‘s eyes narrowed. “Where on main street?”

“Around Cotton Street.”

“That’s past his house,” Coconut murmured.

Toola’s eyes widened. “But it is on the way to…”

The four shared a glance.

“Still think he’s just sick?”

“Oh, can it,” Rumble grumbled. “What are we gonna do?”

“We need to go after him,” Dinky said.

“What?” Toola exclaimed. “But it’s the middle of the schoolday!”

“Recess is going to end in like ten minutes!” Coconut added. “Miss Cheerilee will tell our parents!”

“Well, we can’t just leave him in there alone!” Dinky said, stamping her tiny hoof. “Something must have happened to make him run off like that, right? What kind of friends would we be if we just left him to fend for himself?”

Toola rubbed her hooves together. “Well, when you put it like that…

“I’m in,” Rumble said. “We’ve got history next, and I didn’t finish the homework.”

“This is exactly why you got held back, you know.”

“I said can it.”

They all turned towards the remaining member of their group

“Alright,” Coconut said, sighing. “But if we get caught, it was your idea.”

“Deal.”

“So, where are we headed?” Toola asked.

“Well, Dinky’s closet is the closest,” Rumble said.

Dinky shook her head. “We can’t go to my house, my mom’s taking the day off today. She’d freak if she saw me skipping school.”

“Alright, then we’ll use the bucket.”

Coconut groaned. “Do we have to use the bucket? I hate using the bucket.”

“Do you want to go after Coil or not?”

“Fiiiiine.”

The matter settled, the four straightened up. It was only then that they seemed to remember that Winter Bell was still there, standing awkwardly off to the side.

None of them looked really sure what to say, but Dinky was the one who spoke up.

“Thanks, Winter Bell. You were really helpful.”

“Uh… you’re welcome,” Bell replied. “What are you guys gonna do now?”

“We’re going to go find him,” Dinky said. “Please don’t tell Cheerilee on us. This is really important.”

Bell nodded.

“And don’t follow us,” Rumble added, as the rest walked away. “You got that?”

“Sure,” Bell said. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She watched as they made their way to the edge of the schoolyard, and then, while no one was looking, quietly slipped around the side of the building.

You are going to follow them, yes?

“Duh,” Bell said, starting after them.

For the record, it's not polite to lie to your friends.

“Yes, mother.”









“Where did you come from?” she muttered, fixing the thing with a glare from her walleyes. She was sat on the floor, now, facing the closet; an array of instruments sat in a semicircle in front of her.

She highly doubted the tunnel was Dinky’s doing, or if it was, then her little muffin had been hiding quite a bit more than she’d been lead to believe. Either way, they’d need to have a talk later about telling mommy when impossible spaces appeared in one’s bedroom.

Ditzy couldn’t blame her, really; she’d certainly kept bigger secrets from her parents when she was younger, and a mysterious tunnel suddenly appearing in the back of one’s closet certainly counted as ‘things normal parents would never believe’.

Of course, she wasn’t quite a normal parent, but then again, Dinky didn’t know that.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let that little secret out of the bag…

One of the devices arrayed on the floor in front of her pinged, shaking her from her thoughts. She noted the readings on her instruments, then ‘squinted’ her future sight, shifting her view forward by a minute or so, and checked them again. She did this for each minute of the twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds of the future that she was allowed to see.

“No significant changes,” she muttered to herself. “Not going to disappear any time soon, then… at least, that I can detect...”

She turned to a weighing scale, to her side, upon which rested a small chunk of  material that she’d chipped off of the interior wall of the tunnel. She slid the weights back and forth, but…

Her mouth fell open as she slid the weight all the way to the left and the arm finally settled.

“No discernible mass?”

She looked back up at the thing.

“What are you?”









Pinkie slid into the empty seat at the toad’s table. He had finished eating some time ago, and had picked up a newspaper, which he now peered at her over the top of. He’d also ordered tea.

“Hi!” Pinkie said.

“Hello,” the toad replied, glancing up from his paper. “Can I help you with something?”

“Well, my shift just ended, and usually when my shift ends I go hang out with my friends,” Pinkie said. 

“Right…”

“But then I saw you sitting alone, and I thought, hey, this toad is my friend, and I’ve never met a talking toad before!” She smiled at him. “We are friends, right?”

The toad’s bulbous eyes blinked. “Erm…”

“So then I thought, well, why don’t I get to know my new friend Mr. Toad better? So I walked over here and said hi, and then you asked me if you could help me, and then I said—”

“Yes, I do believe I was there for that part.”

“Great!” Pinkie said, beaming. “So what’s the mode, toad?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What’s the news from your side of the frog pond?”

“I don’t follow.”

“What’s hoppening?”

“Is this meant to be some sort of joke?”

“Yes!” Pinkie said, exasperated. “You’re not very good at this, Mr. Toad. I want to know more about you!”

“Ah,” the toad said. “Well, you should have just said that in the first place. What would you like to know?”

“Well, let’s start with an easy one,” Pinkie said. “Where are you from?”

“Why, I’m from the Carolish, of course!” He harrumphed. “I would have thought that would have been obvious.” 

He took a sip of his tea.

“Well that’s funny, I’ve never heard of any place called ‘the Carolish’ before,” Pinkie said. “Is it far away?”

“On the contrary; you can get to it in less than a minute from this very establishment, if you know the right way to go. I’ll be headed back there once I finish my tea.”

“Ooh, really?” Pinkie said, bouncing up and down a little in her seat. “Can I come? Pretty please?”









Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, trying to discourage me from skipping school?

Winter Bell slipped through the lesser-used side streets of Ponyville soundlessly, following on the tails of her classmates. She wasn’t sure where they were headed, but they sure seemed to; from the way they navigated, it looked like this wasn’t their first time out.

I am of the opinion that getting to the bottom of what the other foals are up to is more important than today’s history lesson, her mother replied. Though I do expect you to apologize to Ms. Cheerilee when this is over. And to get caught up on what we missed.

Fair enough.

She pressed herself up against the corner of a house, peeking out just enough to watch Dinky and the others take another corner and vanish from her sight. She grimaced and scampered after them as quietly as she could.

Your father, however, will not be happy.

“Dad’s never happy about anything I do, anyway,” Bell muttered, “so what’s one more for the pile?”

Sweetheart…

Bell sighted them again as she rounded the corner, ducking behind a trash can for cover.

“Alright,” Dinky was saying, as she and the others came to a stop at the end of the alley. A bunch of junk lay piled up behind them, tools and bits of metal and things, some of it covered by a tarp. Bell had never noticed it before. Actually, come to think of it, she’d never seen this alley before, either.

“So we’re guessing Coil used the lamp post, right?”

“That’s the only entrance in the direction he was heading,” Coconut said.

Toola frowned. “So why aren’t we going in the way he went?” 

“Because,” Dinky said, turning towards the trash pile. She grabbed the corners of the tarp and pulled it off, the sheet fluttering before it was tossed unceremoniously aside. “There’s no way we could get that far without someone spotting us. It’s almost on the complete opposite side of town.”

She reached into the depths of the pile.

“Besides,” she said, “the lake’s not that far from the forest, and we can ask something if it knows anything.”

With a grunt, she pulled her hoof from the pile, bringing with it an old, rusty pail. This she placed in the middle of the group. Despite clearly being made of metal, it made no sound when it was dropped onto the ground.

“Alright,” she said. “Who’s first?”

“I’ll go,” Rumble said.

The others stepped back to give him space to work, while he approached the bucket. Rearing up, he put both forelegs into it, followed by dunking his head in. After a moment, he tipped forward.

Bell watched his hindlegs wriggle in the air for a moment, then disappear under the rim of the thing. Which was impressive, considering the size difference between the two involved parties. She couldn’t see anything of the inside of the bucket.

“Alright, me next,” said Toola. She too, approached the bucket and preformed much the same maneuver, sliding into the bucket’s depths. As unlikely as it would have been for Rumble to fit himself entirely into the thing, the addition of Toola as well made such a feat downright impossible.

The other two followed suit after her, first Coconut, and then Dinky, who cast a cautious glance around before she, too, slipped into the pail.

And then it was just Bell.

She hesitated for a few moments, to see if anything else was going to happen, but when nothing did, she slipped from her hiding spot and scampered over to the bucket. There was something unnerving about it, sitting there alone in the middle of an empty alley (even ignoring what she’d just witnessed), and Bell slowed down to a cautious trot as she grew close to it.

Arching her neck up, she peered inside.

The bucket was full of water, which she hadn’t expected; she hadn’t seen any come sloshing out earlier. It was murky, as well; she couldn’t see the bottom of the bucket through it.

“What do you think?” she said aloud.

I don’t like it.

“Me neither.”

On instinct, Bell expanded her senses, reached out to the bucket with the song in her soul. Every object had a note in the symphony that was reality; perhaps this one’s could tell her something about it.

She got no response. The bucket was entirely silent.

That shouldn’t be possible, her mother said. There was a tone of deep confusion in her voice. This is unnatural This… thing… should not exist.

The statement was followed by a pulse of colour, sound, and feeling, expressing everything in an instant that words could not.

Making up her mind, Bell reared up and stuck her hoof into the water. It sank beneath the surface cleanly, barely eliciting a ripple from the liquid’s surface. She got up to her elbow before she realized that the water wasn’t murky, as she’d originally thought. Rather, she couldn’t see the bottom because the pail didn’t have one.

She swallowed. When she removed her hoof, it was bone dry.

Sweetheart, are you absolutely certain you want to do this? It’s not too late to go and get Pinkie Pie, or Ditzy Doo.

“Sorry, momma,” Bell said. “I have to. By the time we found them, the others might be long gone. It’s now or never.”

Then please, please be careful. I don’t know what we’ll find in there, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you from it if it means you harm. Promise me you’ll run at the first sign of real danger.

“…Yeah. Okay. But it can’t be that bad, right? Dinky and the others were fine with whatever it is.”

And yet, they seem very worried about leaving their friend alone in it.

“Hm.”

Taking a deep breath and holding it, her cheeks puffing out slightly, Winter Bell dunked her head into the bucket.









“Well, only one thing left to do,” Ditzy said to herself. Various bits of arcane scientific apparatus littered the floor at her hooves, brass doohickeys and copper-whatsits.

She’d confirmed that the tunnel was (probably) stable. She’d confirmed that it (most likely) wasn’t going to close any time soon. And she’d confirmed that it (almost certainly) actually lead somewhere.

Now she just had to find out where that somewhere was.

“Just need to make sure you’re back in time to get Dinky from school,” she reminded herself. “Four hours. You’re a time traveler. Four hours shouldn’t be a problem.”

And, just in case, she’d left a note on the kitchen table telling Dinky to go to Pinkie Pie if she didn’t come back right away. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but so far it had proved unnecessary, and she wasn’t looking to change that now.

Taking a deep breath, she took her first step into the checkerboard.

An electric tingle ran down her spine.

Alright, here we go…









“It’s not much farther,” the toad said.

“Okay!” Pinkie chirped, pronking along behind him. She’d already followed him through a veritable labyrinth of streets and back alleys, several of which they’d had to double back through, but that was okay. Pinkie knew the reason for the bizarre route… not that she’d told the toad that, yet.

After several more twists and turns (Since when did Ponyville have so many alleys? she wondered to herself), they turned a corner and found themselves in a small flower garden, in between two buildings. The grass was a bright, almost surrealy verdant green, and concentric rings of roses and violets and several other brightly shaded flowers surrounded the garden’s center.

“Here we are,” the toad said, as he stepped over the low fence that walled off the patch. “Now, all you have to do is stand in the middle of the flowers, close your eyes, and turn around three times. Afterwards, you’ll see an archway, and that’ll take you right to the Carolish.”

“You know, it’s kinda silly, but I’ve never seen this garden before,” Pinkie said, hanging back but still smiling. “And I’ve lived here most of my life!”

“Really?” the toad said. “Well, I didn’t plant it. Perhaps you’ve just never found it before.”

He moved towards the circle.

“Well, it is hard to find,” Pinkie mused. “I don’t think most ponies would ever have even thought about tracing the manifold of a six-hypercube in three-dimensional space as mapped onto Ponyville’s street layout. Still, I’m sure someone would have ended up here eventually, and boy wouldn’t they be in for a surprise!”

The toad blinked. Pinkie continued.

“Hey, have you noticed how quiet it is?” she said, stepping forwards. “No birds chirping, no bees buzzing, no ponies ponying… it’s kinda creepy, huh?”

“I-I don’t follow, Miss Pie,” the toad said. 

“It’s almost like,” she said, grinning even harder, “this place isn’t really supposed to exist!”

“Well, that’s quite a silly thing to say,” the toad said. “Really, what makes anything ‘supposed’ to exist?”

Pinkie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Toad, but I don’t feel like playing that game right now. I’d much rather take a look at what you’re trying to hide behind all these pretty decorations.”

She took a step forwards. The toad took a step back. She peered into the circle of grass at the center of the flowers. She held her gaze there for almost a minute. 

Then…

“Mr. Toad.”

For the first time in a long time, Pinkie let her glamour drop, revealing her true self in its entirety to the being that stood before her. Her tendrils writhed. As the toad shuffled away from her, his flattened irises contracting, Pinkie’s mouths opened and spoke as one.

“I think it’s time for you to tell me exactly why you’re here,” she said, her many eyes narrowing all at once. “Now.”