They say time flies when you’re having fun, but what they don’t tell you is that boredom makes time screwy. You see, for the last, I don’t know, couple thousand years I’ve been trapped in a simple oil painting. Don’t quote me on that time scale, every day seems the same when you’re stuck looking at the same bit of wood frame the whole time and only able to move your eyes a little to see what’s going on outside. I mean, sure, I can hear just fine but that only goes so far when you try to tell what’s happening around you.

Oh, wait, you’re probably asking yourself “who the hell is this guy?” Well to be honest that’s not important right now. What you need to know is that I’m human, I’m stuck in a painting that currently sits in a museum, and I don’t look anything like I should. For some reason, I guess you could call it magic, I have taken on the appearance of, powers included, the costume I was wearing to my high school reunion. It probably wasn’t a very good idea looking back but I had decided to go as the Ghost Rider. Yeah, you know the one, flaming, hell powered skeleton who rides around dispensing pain and judgment to the wicked people of the world and sending them all to Hell. I pulled out all the stops on this one; spikes, riding leathers, Harley Davidson motorcycle, and flaming skull prosthetic make-up. Oh, and let’s not forget the riders iconic weapon, the chain. I took some liberties hear by adding a weighted length of pipe to one end and a chain hook to the other. All told, it looked pretty damn cool.

But, I digress, I have no idea how I got here, not the museum smart ass, I mean here, this world. The last thing I remember was that I was heading to my small towns “convention center” for the reunion. It was already dark out and I was heading along on my Harley at a reasonable clip, when this big thing, may have been a deer but I’m not real sure, shoots out into the road ahead of me. I don’t remember much after that, except for the very pissed off looks I was getting from two very familiar princesses. So, if you haven’t figured out where I am, I’ll tell you, I’m stuck… in Equestria. Yep, and if this too much of a cliché for you, tough, it’s happening whether I want it to or not.

Why are you trapped in a painting when you should be out making new pony friends, I hear you ask. Well, that’s kinda complicated. I seem to have entered their world some time before Luna got sent to the moon and all the lovable characters I knew and loved weren’t born yet. That, and I may have had a wee misunderstanding with two particular ponies over some souls who may or may not have committed some very evil acts at some point in their lives that the royal duo didn’t know of, and I may or may not have killed, blinded, and/or maimed said guilty parties/princesses/guards because I was compelled to fill the role thrust upon my person by this cruel twist of fate. What? You don’t believe me? Well it’s true, I can see every sin, every dark act, and every act of kindness that these ponies have ever committed and I felt the need to balance the scales a bit. I mean, sure, everyone does something bad every now and again that they should be punished for, but not all of it fell under my tender ministrations. Hell, nopony cares to mention those I helped along the way.

Man, those two can be a royal pain in the a…..

I think I hear hoofsteps coming this way, must be another tour group, just another day at the Canterlot Museum of Art. At least I have my tricks, this’ll be fun.

“This way my little ponies,” came this sing song voice, I know I’ve heard it before but where. Give me a minute it’ll come to me. Hey, they stopped in front of me, that’s unusual. Wait, I know that cutie mark, it’s got three smiling flowers; I still can’t get a name though.

“Here we have a piece from an unknown artist and it dates back about fifteen hundred years,” close, but I’m sure it has been longer than that.

“It was discovered in a deep cave here in Canterlot,” You mean the basement of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters after they abandoned it, and me, in the Everfree Forest, “by an unknown explorer who brought it to this museum where it has hung for the last six years. Unfortunately, this is really all that is known about this painting.”

“Mith Cheerilee, I herd it wath haunted and that it would wath you walk by,” that lisp sounds way too familiar, but how?

“That is just a silly rumors somepony started to scare each other, nothing more. Now, many have speculated about what this creature is but none can really say for sure. So what do you think it is, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie Belle! Hang on I gotta extend my Sin Sense for a second... huh, the barrier usually prevents this working, but let’s see… anger but not enough for Wrath… desire bordering obsession, but what else is new for these ponies… here it is, her name is Cheerilee.

Cheerilee.

Cheerilee! Holy crap on a stick, I’ve caught up to the shows time line!

“Scary,” that innocent little voice says dripping with fear; I am now feeling about two inches tall and full of self-loathing for scaring her. I am truly a horrible human being. Hey, don’t laugh at her you little brats!

“It’s okay Sweetie Belle, I’m sure they’re all scar’d bi it too,” came a heavily accented voice, must be Applebloom.

“Ye-yeah, I mean nopony is as brave as us, so they must be,” nice one Scootaloo, but maybe you should work on getting that crack out of your voice when you’re nervous, it’s a bad tell.

“That’s enough class! Remember what happened last time you had an argument on one of our little field trips?” Wow, smart move there Boss, shutting it down before it gets started, at least now I now I’m at least in season 2. “Now, let’s move on,” crap, I didn’t even get to do the creepy head turn. What, you thought it was just an idle rumor about the whole watching thing, I gotta have fun somehow and that’s about all I can do. This sucks, I missed my only chance to see three of my favorite ponies because I wasn’t fast enough to recover from realizing it was them.

So, now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna sit here and sulk for a while and… and what’s this. Something wicked this way comes. I smell pine cleaner, must be a janitor, but not one I’ve ever felt before. This one is… different. What do I spy with my Evil Eye. So, he’s steered clear of this hallway from fear and guilt, guilt at… you dirty bastard. He’s having dark thoughts about three particular ponies that are very close to my heart. I can’t believe this shit! Wait, he’s stopped and he’s about to lean on my painting. What was that? The barrier? It’s weak, it’s been weak and I’ve been to dumb and lazy to notice. He’s getting closer and the closer he gets to it the weaker the barrier gets. I can feel his crimes now… the dark hood he’s wearing… the fear of the foals as he takes them… the… my God… I haven’t seen anything like this before, and he plans on doing this to the CMC! I can see his eyes, they’re pin pricks now, the fact that I can see them means my head is turned, and he just realized he messed up.

It’s too late for him, the barrier is a fading memory.

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There is no sound in the hall way but a small pop, an insignificant sound but with grave meaning. A light tan Earth Pony with a grey mane cowers on his back at the creature now before him, the creature from the unknown painting. It’s large, nearly six feet tall, and standing a bit away from and facing its strange fiery bicycle. It turns to him slowly and he can feel it’s eyeless gaze fall on him as it turns completely around. With a hissing voice like burning flesh it points and speaks three words like a death sentence.

“Foalnapper. Murderer. Pedophile.”

Scrambling to his hooves the little pony tries to run, tries to scream for help but before he can he hears the rattle of a chain as it raps around his body. Then he only feels indescribable pain as his body burns away and his soul goes flying into the abyss. The only sign that he had been there was a pony shaped pile of ash. The creature exhales slowly and turns towards its now empty prison, an empty view of a fiery hellscape where his bike was permanently stuck on its back wheel with his chain flying around and his gaze permanently locked towards the right side of the frame.

“Du yu girls smell that, it smells lak rottun eggs,” asked a familiar accented voice from around the corner. The creature panics as he recognizes the voice. He turns quick and straddles his bike but before he can work the kick start he hears another voice.

“Woah, that is so cooool,” this voice belonged to Scootaloo and it was right next to him. He turns his head slowly to look the three fillies in the eyes. They looked scared out of their minds as they realized that they were looking at the creature from the painting.

“If you think I’m cool, watch this,” it rasped as it turned in the seat to face its onetime prison. It extends its hand towards the painting and with a snap of its fingers, the priceless artwork bursts into flames.

“You might want to stand back now,” it told the three fillies and they did as it said with matching looks of terror on their little faces. He then, with the ease of a seasoned pro, kick started the bikes engine and sped away with a screech of tires and a demonic roar, leaving a flaming trail in his wake.

“I think... we’re going to get blamed for this,” said Sweetie Belle as she was the first to break their silence as the creature rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Author's Notes:

So, here it is. The first chapter of my first story. Questions, comments, concerns? Let me know below and I'll try to answer as many can.

Quick Edit: 09 Apr 14

I knew I shoulda look closer at this before I posted it.