Hotel Canterlot
A ghastly wind blew through the autumnally orange and brown leaves, dismantling many of them. They flew a short distance until the wind died and the leaves fell onto a dirt road. Two horse-drawn coaches crushed the leaves on the road as the coaches sped past them. A full, nightmarish moon hung in the sky, beckoning the ponies to their fate.
Only days before, Twilight and her friends each received an invitation calling for their presence at an archaic hotel on the outskirts of the capital, Canterlot. It had been there for years until it closed mysteriously several decades ago.
The invitations called for a dinner and a party, promising the guests the Canterlot elite, a Wonderbolt or two as guests, adorable little critters running wild, the most delicious apple-based treats in Equestria, and fun. These promises, among others, caught the attention of ten ponies from the small community; and they all made plans to go, even though it was on short notice. Besides, it was not like they had any plans that particular night; it was only Nightmare Night.
An excited Pinkie Pie bounced up and down in her seat, partially due to the road due to the road being as bumpy as her mane. She sat, sort of, in the middle seat, with Rainbow Dash to her left and Fluttershy to her right. Across from Rainbow Dash was Miss Derpy Hooves; and across from Fluttershy was Applejack, looking outside the window beside her seat. Since this was a formal dinner, all of the guests were dressed up for the occasion. Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack in this coach and Twilight, Rarity, and Spike in the coach leading this one were all dressed in their gowns they wore to the Grand Galloping Gala, complete with the pony-specific styled mane and tail. Derpy's dress was a simply lightish red color.
"Wow!" Pinkie Pie yelled after she stopped vibrating, "I can't believe we get to go to a fancy dinner in a spo-o-o-oky hotel."
Fluttershy's brows jerked upward and she turned her head, lightly whispering, "Spooky? That doesn't sound like fun at all."
"Fluttershy, don't be such a buzz-kill," Rainbow Dash butted-in. "I can't believe the Wonderbolts are going to be there! This is going to be awesome!" she shrieked.
"I don't know," Applejack said, spooked by the lifeless woods around the road. She pulled her head from the window, "I heard some might awful things about that place."
"Like what?" Derpy inquired.
"Like how its haunted by ghosts, and how the only time any pony that goes in there heard from again is when their screams ring from the place."
A shivering Fluttershy had enough as she tried to open the locked coach doors. She was so distracted with her escape that she did not notice Pinkie Pie's hooves slowly descending upon her until they were a mere inch from contact with her sides. Pinkie Pie then suddenly and quickly goosed Fluttershy while yelling, "Boo!"
Every pony in the front coach turned their heads as they heard a high-pitched scream come from the second coach.
Spike, dressed in his tyke-sized tuxedo, turned to Twilight to his left, wrapping his arms around Rarity's hoof to his right in the process, "What was that?"
"I think it was Fluttershy," Twilight replied.
Spike calmed down a little, saying, "So, it's nothing then."
"Spike, that's not nice," Rarity scolded.
"What? This is probably the first time she's been out of her cottage on Nightmare Night in years."
Across from Twilight sat the fine leader of Ponyville, Mayor Mare, the most casually dressed, staring outside. Across from Rarity was the good Doctor Whooves, dressed in a tux, who also seemed to be distracted by the outside.
"Miss Mayor," Twilight said, catching the mayor's attention and bringing it from wherever it was to here, "have you heard what kind of rumors surround the hotel?"
"Ah, yes, the ghost stories."
"Ghost stories?" Spike shivered, squeezing Rarity's hoof tighter, "What kind of ghost stories."
Twilight laughed, "Don't worry, Spike. They're just ghost stories. They're not true."
Mayor Mare looked outside and, up ahead in the distance, saw a shimmering light.
The black stallions pulling the coaches stopped in front of the hotel. The hotel itself was much more horrific than the woods. A candescent glow shined through some windows, giving a generalized sizing of the rest of the hotel, which seemed to camouflage with the nocturnal sky. It looked to be about eight stories tall. Directly to the hotel's left was a tarn, toxic with something malicious. A large, unscalable iron fence encompassed the hotel and its accessories. The only vegetation on the property was the ones creeping up the hotel.
Rarity took one look at the building through her window and became disgusted, exclaiming, "This place is wretched!"
Thee black stallions unlocked the coaches' doors without a single word, then left, seemingly disappearing into the night. The ponies began to disembark from their respective coaches and approached the gate, which was decorated with rusty bars bent into the initials "H.C." using a fancy font. It was locked from the inside with a worn lock and chain.
There, she stood in the doorway. The mission bell on the roof rang. The mare was hidden in the shadows of the hotel, but the ponies somehow knew it was a mare and a unicorn. Then, with the sudden, magically-struck flare of a match, a candle was lit. The mare stepped out of the curtains of darkness and into the moonlight. She was wearing a maid's outfit that covered her flank. Her coat was a dull gray, and her mane and tail were a matte white, cut short and straight. With slow and steady steps, she climbed down the stairs and to the gate. She unlocked the gate, let the guests enter, and then re-locked the gate. From there, she showed them the way.
Inside, the candle-lit hotel looked just as "wretched" as the exterior. The dusty age had caked up on the furniture, painting everything an allergy-inducing gray. The ceilings were bedecked with cobwebs. The wallpaper covered only a fraction of the walls in a uniquely chaotic pattern with the planks that made up the skeleton of the wall. A chandelier hung high over the large foyer the ponies just entered, and a faded-colored carpet rolled from the entrance, forward, and up the dual, opposing staircases separated by a set of two doors. Rusty suits of armor that looked like the ones the Royal Guard wore stood along the wall and were scattered around the hotel. All of them were equipped with axes. A musty scent entered the ponies' noses with every breath. Any pony that could see past the rough interior and exterior, however, saw the hotel as its once-glorious state. They understood its condition was imposed upon it and was not self-inflicted. But, those ponies that can only the currently beautiful, such as Rarity, saw nothing more than chipping paint, broken floor tiles, and wax-coated sconces.
The ponies were astonished by the size of the foyer. Automysophobic Rarity refused to walk along the carpet and instead walked along tile floor. She thought to herself, "The maid really hasn't been doing her job." Pinkie Pie hopped along on the carpet, kicking up a cloud of dust with every landing.
The maid continued on, leading the ponies up the right staircase.
"Wow! This place is huge, like a mansion!" Twilight awed.
"That's because it was built as such," replied a mysterious soprano voice.
The ponies looked up to the summit of the mountainous staircase. A stallion unicorn with a white coat and a light gray mane and tail stood there, holding a candelabrum. He wore full-body, tailed tuxedo; attire that, again, covered his flank.
"Excuse me, but who are you?" Rarity asked.
"I am the dear owner of this fine property and your humble host, Mr. H. Leto," the stallion answered. His eyes were a lustful red.
The ponies instinctly followed the maid up the stairs to their host.
"What did you mean when you said 'it was built as such'?" Twilight asked as she climbed.
"Originally, this place was an estate owned by a family of wealthy unicorns, until they went bankrupt and one of my ancestors bought the place and transformed it into this hotel."
The host and the maid led their guests, without another word spoken, from the stairway and down the candle-lit corridor, passing many numerically named doors, where they eventually met a wall, a left turn, and a right turn. They took the left passage, which led to only one door.
There in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast. The chambers were as dirty and unkempt as the rest of the hotel, maybe more so. Books were tossed about and parts of different instruments, none that could play anything more than a squeak, laid scattered about the room. The furniture seemed to be held up exclusively by the cobwebs attached to them. The only pieces in the room that were not plagued with dust were the long and low wooden table, the cushions set around its perimeter, and the delicious-looking and herbivorous cuisine placed upon it.
Mr. Leto walked to the end of the table on the opposite side of the wall. "Sit. Eat," he said.
The ponies, except Pinkie Pie, hesitated. They were the only ones, aside from the host and his one-pony staff.
Twilight looked to the others then to Mr. Leto, "Aren't we going to wait for the other guests."
"The what? Oh, they will be with us shortly. Their, uh, coaches were delayed."
The ponies just shrugged and took what liberties Pinkie Pie had already taken.
Everyone began filling their plates with eats from the platters set before them. For, Spike, they had bowls of mixed jewels that looked delicious enough for Spike to make a salivary mess that Twilight had to clean. For the ponies, it was a vegetarian's galore. Fresh, moist vegetables were scattered about the platters alongside fruitful bowls of delicious reds, sweet yellows, and sour greens.
"So, Mr. Leto, do you about the rumors that surround this place?" Twilight asked.
"I'm sorry, but I am not acquainted with the rumors of which you speak," he replied. "Please, do tell me what the gossips have said, for my curiosity."
"Ponies have said this place is, well, haunted; and they say that any pony that comes here never returns."
"This place is haunted," Mr. Leto replied.
On cue, Fluttershy began choking on her bite of carrot. After a struggle, though, she finally got it down her throat; and every pony turned their attention to the end of the table.
"Wait, this place is actually haunted?" Spike said with worry.
"Yes. I have lived in this hotel, and I can undisputedly say that this place is haunted."
Some of the ponies, particularly the tough or scientific ponies, were still skeptical. They rest had become uneasy since they learned that the gossip was actually the truth.
Trying to change the subject, Rarity asked Mr. Leto, "Where did you live before moving here?"
Mr. Leto smiled, "I have always lived here."
"If you don't mind me asking," Twilight began, "what caused this hotel to close all those years ago?"
"Financial trouble. Ponies just stopped coming here."
For the next forty-five minutes, the ponies partook of the feast whilst they engaged in small talk with their host. His knowledge of current events was limited, and he virtually had no opinion on anything. He also gave very vague answers to questions about his past that he did not dodge. He did not eat any food during the dinner, giving the excuse, "I'm not hungry."
"Well, I think it's time we head to the ballroom for the real fun," Mr. Leto said when all ten guests finally laid back, submitting to their brimming bellies.
Pinkie Pie jerked forward, "Fun? There's more fun?"
"Yes, Miss Pie," the host eerily grinned, "lots more fun."
The ponies, and dragon, pulled themselves up from the ground and followed Mr. Leto and his servant back down to the foyer and through the dual doors set between the staircases. The servant's magic, a gray magic, swung open the door and revealed the large ballroom.
The ballroom, again, was in complete ruins. There were mirrors on the ceiling, cracked; once-valuable paintings hang, torn, across the walls; and the floor's once-dancing luster was now lost. The candles lit the room with a dim glow. The ballroom was slightly decorative, with tables of sweets and pink champagne on ice, waiting for some pony to devour them.
"The other guests will be arriving soon; but please, enjoy," Mr. Leto said.
The ponies smiled and, with their appetites regained, started their way to the refreshments when the candles in the room suddenly. There was complete darkness, and the only sound, other than Rarity's reactive scream when the lights went out, was the thud of something hitting the floor.
After a few seconds, the wicks of the candles were re-lighted mysteriously, almost magically. Everything was calm for a second, until Rarity screamed again.
Every pony rushed to her to see what happened; but they only needed to turn their heads to see what was wrong.
A gray-and golden Derpy laid on her side, taken by Death.
The ponies all gasped upon the sight of their fallen friend. Some, including Rainbow Dash, even shed some tears. But she did not care. None of them did.
Her body was still warm, though not with life. She laid there, on her left side, with her dress now dyed a much darker red than before. On her belly was a large, deep, eviscerating laceration; and beside her, her entrails were swimming in a pool of her own blood. Her crooked stare was lifeless, and her mouth was wrapped in an expression of agony. Within a few seconds, her hooves were in the red pool still diffusing across the floor.
Twilight pulled a tablecloth from a nearby table and situated it over the corpse. She then noticed something: Mr. Leto and the maid were gone, disappeared form their position before the lights flickered off. And, they were nowhere to in the ballroom.
"Who could do this?" Rainbow Dash yelled, wiping her eyes.
"I have a good idea," Twilight replied.
"Who?" every pony yelled at once.
"Look amongst us, who was here before and now gone?"
The ponies looked around. "Why, Mr. Leto and his maid are gone," Rarity stated.
"Exactly."
"You're not accusing our host of murder, are you?" Rarity asked.
"Well, did any pony here kill her?" Twilight answered. Every pony shook their heads in denial. "Well, then, I think first we should try to get out of here and find help."
"But, what about her?" Spike asked, tugging on Twilight's mane.
"There's nothing we can do for her now, Spike. Let her rest."
Spike climbed onto Twilight's back and they and the others galloped into the adjoining foyer and to the front door. Twilight's magic grasped the door handle and pushed. The door did not budge. She tried again and again, but nothing happened.
"It must be locked," Twilight guessed.
"Let me try," Rainbow Dash said as she flew to the other side of the foyer. There, she began to ferociously flap her wings in place until she erupted in a sharp burst of speed, charging toward the door. Rainbow Dash bounced off of the resistant door, landing a few feet back in a daze.
At that moment, Spike had an idea. "Twilight," he said, "Can't you teleport us all out?"
"I can't teleport all nine of us out of here. I mean, I good, but not that good."
"Then, can't you teleport just you and me out and we can go find help?" Spike asked.
"No, Spike. I'm not leaving my friends. No pony goes unless we all go. Agreed?" Every pony agreed. "Okay. First, we need to find a way out as quickly as possible; and to do that, I think we should all split up. Any objectives?"
Fluttershy muttered, "Um, I do. The worst thing to do in this situation is to—"
"Okay, no objections," Twilight said, "From the outside, I counted eight floors in this building, and there are nine of us now. And, I'm sure that there is a cellar in this hotel. Rarity, you search for the cellar. It may an emergency escape route. The rest of us will search the floors for any way out or anything else that will help. Pinkie Pie, you take the ground floor; Spike, the second floor; Mayor, the third floor; Doctor, the fourth floor; Fluttershy, the fifth floor; Applejack, the sixth floor; Rainbow Dash, the seventh floor; and I will take the eighth floor. Is that okay with every pony?"
Every pony was fine with his or her assignment, though there were some reluctance from Fluttershy and Rarity. But, in the end, every pony went to their designated destination, willing to do anything to get out of Tartarus.
After searching corridor after corridor, Rarity finally found the entrance to the hotel's cellar on the ground floor. It was an old, rickety stairway, and it creaked unsteadily when she first placed a hoof. She sighed as her reluctant and nervous hooves made their way down the steps.
Where did it all go wrong? What was supposed to be a pleasant, high-class evening with some of the most polished ponies of Canterlot was now a fight for every pony's life. Maybe she should not have come. Maybe none of them should have.
She gradually stepped into the darkness that fogged the cellar. Using the illumination spell Twilight taught her, Rarity made her way through the cellar. Kegs of aging wine were stacked on racks with webbings connecting them. Boxes of bottles were in a pile in a corner. The floor was soft and dusty earth; and the walls were made from cobblestone. The ceiling was low, only a foot above her head.
She walked through the maze of barrels and boxes until she came upon a clearing and, ahead, doors possibly leading outside. She was relieved, finally finding another exit.
Behind her, gravel crunched. Rarity quickly turned around and pointed her horn in the noise's direction. Her heart began racing.
"Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, this kind of prank is not funny and of poor taste, with one pony already dead. You should be searching your floor for an exit, but I guess it doesn't matter now since I found one!"
Then a blunt, forceful, and metallic object hit the back of her head, causing her to faint.
Rarity awoke in a daze. Her blurry vision took a few moments to gain clear detail; and when it did, she found a horrible surprise. She was on her back, encased in a pine box made from planks. There was a crack in between two boards on the opposing side of the box, large enough for her to see through to the outside. Rarity peered through the hole and saw that she was in a grave hole in the cellar's ground, evident in the walls of soil around her. The light of a lantern glowed around the room and behind the shadowy silhouette of a short figure. The shadow physically held a spade with his hands.
"What is the meaning of this? Let me out now!" Rarity commanded. The figure's reply was him scooping dirt from behind him and throwing on the crack in the coffin. The dirt fell through the crack and into Rarity's mouth. She spit it out, and the shadow continued his work.
Rarity began pleading, "Please, please, let me out! I'll do anything you want! Just please, let me out!" She continued to plead for her life as the inches of Death began to pile up upon her. She began to cry as she prayed for some pony to come help her; but after a few hours, the only help that arrived was Death.
Deserting her duties, Pinkie Pie had doubled back to the ballroom. She was assured to fun tonight, more fun than dressing up into costumes and getting free candy; but now the night has become un-fun. One pony is already dead, and who knows who would be next. Maybe she should not have come. Maybe no pony should have.
Pinkie Pie looked all around, and no pony was near. She walked over to the table with a large, three-tier cake on it. The cake was beautifully decorated with pink icing and multi-colored sprinkles. It was fudge-chocolate. Before she dove mouth-first into it, she glanced over to where the corpse was. It was gone, dragged away in the direction the trail led by her blood. It led into the foyer.
Pinkie Pie investigated the disappearance. She followed the trail into the foyer, where the blood colored the carpet a lively color. However, the trail ran cold after that; and Pinkie Pie was puzzled.
She returned to the cake, where she noticed something she had not before. A knife was pushed into the cake. She grabbed the handle with her mouth and pulled it from the cake. Along with the pink icing of the cake, a blood red liquid was on the steely knife. The knife itself was large and sharp. Pinkie Pie assumed the red goop was cherry-filling, which made want the cake even more. She devoured the cake in mere seconds. Her belly was full, and she could feel it. She also began to feel different. She felt her heart rate beginning to slow down and her blood pressure lowering. She felt dizzy, followed by the feeling of her head throbbing. Then, suddenly, she violently convulsed before passing out. Within minutes, the touch of Death came to make her heart still.
The mayor explored the halls of the third floor, finding nothing to help with the escape. The night was a horror show, yet she was thankful for this change of pace in her life. Over the years, her life had become unnaturally gray, like her mane. She had no stallion in her life; her job would not allow it. Even the life of a politician had become dull. The past three annual mayoral elections had been her running unopposed. Last year, she tried to stir up scandals about herself; but the tabloids did not care. No pony cared. The only reason she came tonight was for something different than the same Nightmare Night held every year, and she needed this. No pony knew how depressed she had become and how she often thought about ending it all.
Mayor mare walked down the corridor until she came upon a door that was cracked with a glowing light coming from within. Her curiosity led her to peer inside. Nothing but a bed, some stands, and an empty vase were inside. The walls were grayish pink. The light was a single candelabrum sitting on a stand beside the wall. The mayor felt unsatisfied and used her hoof to push open the as she walked into the room. As she, a cascade of a viscous liquid fell upon her head, mane, and tail. A new scent replaced the old musty one. The mayor sniffed the air. It smelled like lantern fuel. Thinking of it being nothing more than a prank from the other ponies, she continued into the room. It was a simple hotel room, a bedroom and a bathroom. As she walked, the oil left a flammable trail behind her. She looked around the room and then heard a commotion behind her. She quickly turned around to a short black figure standing upright and holding the candle over the trail of fuel. He dropped it, and the flame lit up the oil upon contact. The orange snake slithered along until it caught the mayor. She screamed as the fire began charring her coat and skin. The catalyst accelerated her demise, and the fire burned so hot that it took only seconds for her collapse of heatstroke and smoke inhalation.
The Doctor was exploring his corridors above. As he walked through the passage, he encountered a large grandfather clock, with its small hand on the twelve and long hand on the two.
He was taking the gruesome disembowelment of his friend the hardest. They were close; they had been friends since they were foals. He even gave her the nickname "Sarah Jane." It was actually Sarah Jane's idea to come here. He was not planning on coming, but she wanted him to come with her. And now, she is dead, and he may just as well be next.
The Doctor stood there, suddenly realizing he had been staring at the clock for about five minutes. Something about the clock was peculiar. The cabinet that should house the pendulum was nothing but two wooden panels, divided by a crease. There were hinges on the sides of the panels. The Doctor was intrigued further. He tried to use his hooves to pry the panels open but it did not work. He pressed his ear to the panels and heard the sounds of turning gears and a steady ticking. Then, something caught his eye. A small button, camouflaged with rest of the wooden clock, was under the six. Curious about its ability, he pushed it. Immediately, the wooden panels slid open and out popped a sharp-edged pendulum that the Doctor caught with his chest, which spilled out blood. Above, on the roof, Death's bell tolled for a fifth time that night.
On the ninth floor, Twilight was having no luck. She had only explored a small fraction of the story, and already she could tell that this floor was no part of the hotel. Earlier, she found a master bedroom, a nursery for a newborn colt, and the shared bedroom of twin fillies. It was obvious that this floor was a private residence; for the owners of the hotel, it was assumed.
Twilight's reason for coming to this place was simple: peer pressure. All of her friends wanted to go, with her with them. Although, it was her fault that she let every pony get to her. She should have just said no.
Twilight walked sluggishly down the hallway. She had grown weary, and her sleepiness began to overpower her fear of meeting her fate. Although, she continued, determined to get her friends out of here as quickly as possible. Twilight opened every door she crossed, until she came upon a study.
The study, of course, was messy with dust and spider webs. An old desk sat in the middle of the room, facing the door. Adjacent to the desk was an even older rocking chair that looked like it could squeak in a slow beat. On the far-back wall were shelves and shelves of old books that made Twilight's eyes sparkle. A grin appeared. She approached the wall and browsed through the collection. Many of the books were either historical nonfiction or historical fiction, and the thick layers of dust made it hard to tell which was which. Twilight, in passing, noticed a book without a title, just a simple red cover. She opened it and discovered it was a book of the Leto's genealogical records and history of the building that she was in.
Shivering, a yellow-and-pink Pegasus fearfully and carefully stepped through the corridors of the fifth floor. From the start, she did not like the idea of coming here. After all, it was Nightmare Night; and it is never a good idea for the faint of heart to be out on Nightmare Night. But, she could not say no to any pony, especially her friends. Then, some pony was killed; and to make matters worst, every pony was split from each other. Fluttershy knew that somehow, someway, something was going to go very, very wrong, especially in a dim corridor like this.
She walked down the hallway, thinking none of the rooms would have an emergency exit. Eventually, Fluttershy came across a door, slightly open, to her right. For some reason, Fluttershy knew that it was not safe to go into the room. She walked by it, never giving it the time of day until the chirp of a bird was heard by her ears. She stopped and considered her options. Her personality, and cutie mark, would not allow her to leave; but it was dangerous to go. She hated that she had to do what she must do. Against her initially better judgment, she turned around to find that bird. She peered inside. It, like many others, was a simple hotel room.
Fluttershy glanced around the room again upon hearing another chirp. She saw no bird. She pushed the door open and entered the up to the bed. Fluttershy crouched down to look under the bed, but all she saw was a dark cloud.
Without any kind of a warning, some pony or something jumped on her back. Fluttershy froze in a panicked state as the monster on her back reached his claws around her throat, grabbing both of her pink curls, and pulled them against her neck with a tremendous force. Fluttershy felt her body begin to be deprived of oxygen; and she tried to breathe, a futile attempt. She then tried to call for help; but it was uttered only as a whimper, silenced by the cold hand of Death.
A floor above the fifth, Applejack had a strange floor to search. It was the level with the hotel's kitchen. It was incredibly large, since it nearly took up most of the floor.
Applejack, in reality, was the only pony to actually receive what promises that drew her to the hotel's dinner and party. The feast really did have some of the best apple treats she had ever tasted.
The large kitchen was ancient. The metal that constructed most of the kitchen had become rusted and unusable. Of course, the floor and everything else were not immune to the dust and webs that plague the rest of the hotel.
Applejack had already toured a majority of the kitchen. She stopped when she came across a large steel door. It was about twice her size and held up by an even more giant metal frame. The door had a large bolt lock and handle. Curious to what was inside; Applejack used her left hoof to push down on the handle. It clicked, and she used her body to force the door open. An icy breeze poured out from behind the door. Applejack only opened a crack in the door, enough for her to squeeze through and into the chamber. A little bit of light from the candles in the kitchen shined into the chamber. The walls were cold, and a chilled wind came from the vent above. There were hooks hanging from the ceiling; and a carcass was already on a hook, covered in plastic. Applejack became gravely curious. She walked across the sub-zero floor to the body, which basked in the light from the kitchen. She grabbed the plastic with her teeth and pulled it off to reveal a horrid sight. The body of the gray-and-yellow pegasus was swinging from the hooks that were pierced into her back legs. Her innards were crudely and incorrectly stuffed back into her torso, which still had the cut on its underside.
Applejack gasped in horror at this visual, just the door behind her was forced shut. She galloped to it just as the bolt locked on the other side. She pounded her hooves against the door, yelling, "Let me outta here!" But, no pony did. The hardy pony continued to bang her hooves for assistance, for some pony to let her out of the arctic prison. But, no pony did. Instead, after a while, her cold body began to feel tired; so she decided to sleep and dream of Death.
Twilight began reading the book she found. For the first few pages, it talked about the origins of the family and the family's ascension as a wealthy household. The blood line of the family ends with a picture of the host of this wonderful night, Hamilton Leto, and a birth date nearly a century-and-a-half ago.
"Oh my gosh!" Twilight yelled to herself, "Mr. Leto is nearly a hundred-and-fifty years old! That's not possible for a normal unicorn. Only royalty, like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna can be that old!"
She continued, flipping through the pages, and yellowed newspaper clippings fell from the book. Twilight picked the clippings. They were about several missing ponies' investigations, all of them disappearing from the hotel. They, too, were over a hundred years old.
Twilight returned to the book, which began to talk about the hotel. The hotel was only ever owned by one Leto: Hamilton. Notes were made about how the original owners died under suspicious circumstances, and their mansion was bought by Hamilton at an auction.
"He lied! The past owners died, not went bankrupt!" she said to herself.
"You know, only the insane to themselves," said a familiar, evil voice. Twilight, facing the bookcase, turned to see Mr. Leto behind her, with eerie smile on his muzzle.
Twilight's heart began beating wildly and quickly, skipping a beat in the process. She dropped the book and backed up as much as the wall of bookcases would allow. Eh did not approach her.
"You!" Twilight shouted, "Who are you! What are you?"
"I am the spirit that haunts this place."
"How's that possible? Ghosts don't exist. It's not scientifically possible!"
"It is possible, but your narrow-mindedness won't let you believe." Mr. Leto looked down at the book and the newspaper clippings. "I see you've found my records of my victims."
"Victims?"
"You know, for a student of the princess, you are incredibly dull-minded. Those missing ponies are dead—murdered, in fact."
"And, you killed them?"
"And, the last horse crosses the finish line," Hamilton mocked.
"Why?"
"It's a little game I like to play with ponies. I mean, the missing ponies may have led to the closing of the hotel; but even after that and my death, I invited ponies here to be killed, a motive unknown to them, of course. They think they're here for a dinner and a party.
"But, why us?"
"All of the players in my games are chosen at random. It just so happened that you and every pony else were just close friends, which made the game much better."
Twilight gulped, "Are you here to kill me?"
Hamilton chuckled, "Not yet, I don't have my puppet with me."
"Puppet? You mean your maid?"
"Now, Miss Sparkle, hasn't any pony taught you that it's rude for a guest to throw words into the host's mouth? And, as for Death, you will meet him quite soon. Most of your friends, except the dragon and the rainbow pony, already have."
And with that said, he left, via the wall shared with the hallway and the study. Twilight took a moment to let her heart and lungs calm down. She stood up and rushed to the door to the hallway. She looked in both directions and saw no pony. Twilight galloped to the stairway, hoping to be able to get to Rainbow Dash and Spike before Hamilton Leto did. Just as she turned to the descend the steps she saw Rainbow Dash ascending them.
"Twilight!" Rainbow Dash said, "Do you know where every pony is? I can't find any pony around here."
"That's because they're all dead, Rainbow Dash."
"What?! How?!"
"It's a game our host likes to play."
"Wait, how do you know all of this?"
"Because, he told me himself; and he told me that you, Spike, and I are next."
"We have to get out of here now!"
Twilight agreed while she galloped and Rainbow Dash flew down to the foyer. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Twilight remembered some pony.
"Spike! We forgot Spike!"
"What floor was he on?"
Twilight pointed up to the top of the stairs, "The second."
Rainbow Dash flew to the top and yelled, "Spike!"
"Rainbow Dash!" they heard him reply from the corridor leading left. He ran as quickly as his little feet could carry him. Rainbow
Dash saw that he was almost to the stairs.
Again, every wick in every candle unawaredly was doused, shrouding every inch with complete darkness. In the seconds that followed, there was a clatter of metal followed by a sharp thunk. Then, something spherical rolled down the stairs, eventually landing at Twilight's hooves. She looked down, just in time for the lights to flicker on, to make eye contact with Rainbow Dash's head. Blood dripped onto the carpet below. Twilight screamed and looked to the top of the stairs. There lied a cyan body, flat on the floor, with the handle of an axe from the suit of armor standing beside the staircase sticking up. Beside the body Spike stood, looking at the body.
"Spike!" Twilight yelled to the dragon. He looked to her. "Spike, we need to leave now!"
The dragon passed the carcass and ran down the stairs. He jumped onto Twilight's back; and they ran to the front door, where Twilight teleported them outside. They landed in the shadow of the hotel. Twilight climbed down the stairs and to the locked gate. She, again, teleported through the obstacle.
Realizing her somewhat successful escape, Twilight took on last breath of fresh air before a purple-and-green, possessed claw, grasping a cleverly concealed knife, took the knife and drew a deep, blood-red grin on Twilight's neck from ear to ear. Twilight gargled and choked on her blood as the dragon on her back hopped off. She collapsed, and the dragon's eyes glowed red with evil and ill will of his puppet master.