The doors to the nightclub burst open, and a unicorn with a black hoodie marched out. She pulled the hood tightly over her head and braced herself from the cold night air. She was tired, worn out, drained, but the night air did wonders to reawaken her tired body.

It was another empty night at the club, just like all other nights before. She would put on a fake smile for the crowd, act like she was having fun, and played her usual set. The repetition drained her each and every night, the lack of change driving her mad. She wanted to change it up, to mix in some original work, but her strict boss wouldn’t risk it. He would always tell her that what she was doing was keeping the crowd entertained, and there was no reason to change it.

But there is a reason to change it, Vinyl thought. Every night bored her to pieces. Every night it was the exact same tracks. The same generic, boring music. There was no variety, no creativity. Sometimes Vinyl would even question why she was needed in the first place. Why would a nightclub hire a DJ to just sit there and watch as she just switched the records whenever the tracks ended, when they could just automatically play the music. Was it for theatrics? Did she somehow add to the atmosphere of the club? Whatever the reason, it eluded her, and her walk continued despite her mental tirade.

Vinyl shook her head; she shouldn't complain about the reason why she was needed. She should be grateful that she even had a source of income in the first place. She can’t afford to lose that job, no matter how boring it was. She needed to support her little brother. She needed to save bits so he could go to college, get a good job, and not be stuck in the same position as her.

The street lights soon faded away, signalling that Vinyl had made it to that part of town. She looked up, spotting the old theatre in the distance. Vinyl stopped, involuntarily taking a step back and holding a hoof to her heart. She felt her heartbeat speed up, memories of what happened the other night resurfacing in her mind.

Vinyl breathed deeply for a few seconds, leveling out her anxiety and keeping her adrenaline at bay. She has accepted the fact that there was a ghost in that theatre. There was no denying that fact. She saw it walk through objects, she felt the chill of death, and her sunglasses… Vinyl reached up to the top of her head and pulled shades off to inspect them. If none of that were real the other day, then her glasses should have been lost in the theatre. However, they were returned to her by the spirit.

Even with everything that happened, all the fear, the confusion, the anxiety, Vinyl was still curious. A part of her brain betrayed her and wanted to know more about the phantom that resided within those ruined halls. Another part of her wanted to go back to the theatre and confront the ghost. Her instincts screamed at her to stay away, while the logical part of her brain begged her to just forget about what happened and move on with her life, lest she wants to lose it.  

Her mind conflicted, she didn’t even notice that she had managed to trot all the way up to the front door. She gazed upon the sturdy piece of oak and sighed in defeat.

Curiosity killed the cat, so let’s see what happens to the pony, the mare thought solemnly.

She pressed forwards and inside the haunted building for the second time, trying to retrace her steps from the previous night. Like before, the music soon came into earshot around the same point, and the full melody caught her ear when she entered the main hall.

The cello sat on its vacant perch, a bow sliding upon its ancient strings by an unseen source. Vinyl knew the source but was hesitant to confront it for the second time. Eventually, she decided to merely sit and listen, trotting up to one of the seats in the back and plopping her flank down, taking the time to listen to the ghostly song.

The tone was haunting, but its melody was held high. The song started upbeat. Happy, even, but soon began to decline. The notes got darker, the pace got slower, and the overall feel of it got more… dead. Suddenly, the song stopped, as if cut off. Vinyl raised her head and peered up at the lone cello, which now was accompanied by a familiar sector. The ghost from before made her presence known, materializing in a visible form and was slumped over the cello, unmoving.

Vinyl watched her, feeling both confused, and a little bit sad. It was strange that the spirit suddenly cut off her song without warning, but the way the ghost was slumped over tugged at Vinyl’s heart. She looked… defeated. As if she had lost the will to continue playing.

Suddenly, the chair that Vinyl was sitting on gave out. The loud noise echoed through the acoustic halls, reverberating off the walls for what seemed like the longest time. Vinyl cursed under her breath.

The spirit looked up from her position on the stage. “Who’s there?” she called out. Vinyl tried to stay hidden, but the ghost was too quick. Without warning, she materialized in front of the trembling unicorn.

Vinyl’s eyes went wide. She knew it was a bad idea to come back. The phantom had spared her once. Now, however, she may not be so kind.

But, what happened next, Vinyl did not expect at all.

“Oh, it’s you… the unicorn from the other night. You’re... back?” she said, more confused than anything else. There was no malicious intent held in her words, nor evil or malice. Only confusion and… hope?

Vinyl tried her hardest to fight back her nerves. She tried reasoning as much as she could with her brain to allow her to speak. The spirit didn’t look evil. She didn’t seem like she wanted to hurt her. She just seemed confused. She wanted answers… just like Vinyl did. As much as she negotiated with her mind, her vocal chords were not given permission to work.

The earth pony spirit furrowed her brow. “You’re still trembling like a filly?” She paused, running a hoof through her spectral mane. “You did come back, though. So that must mean you’re not that scared... right?”

Her voice was still lost, kept at bay the by unnatural sight before her.  She tried to nod, but her muscles fell in line with her voice.

The spectre’s eye twitched, a hint of anger briefly uprooting. “Why must everypony always be like this! Do you all think that I am going to… to kill you or something ridiculous like that?!” She sighed, mumbling to herself, “Pretty soon you’ll just run away and leave me alone again like… like everypony else.” She huffed. “Go on then, scurry away like the frightened filly you are!” she exclaimed, shooing in Vinyl’s direction with her hooves. She then turned around, walking through the chairs to go back to the stage.

Vinyl finally found her voice, and with as much force as she could, uttered a weak, “Wait!”

The spirit stopped, turning her head to face her. A flash of hope flickered in her eyes, but it was soon overshadowed by agitation.

Vinyl got to her hooves, breathing deeply to calm herself. “Why did you stop?”

The spirit turned her ghostly body all the way around, giving Vinyl her full attention. “Stop what?”

“T-the song,” she replied. “You just… suddenly stopped playing in the middle of it.”

The ghost sighed, disappearing for a second and reappearing back on stage. She held the bow to her cello in her hooves, a look of sorrow on her face. “I’ve been asking myself that question for years. I… I don’t know why, but I just can’t remember the rest of the piece. I can’t even remember how to play anything else.”

Vinyl walked down the center stairs to the front row, listening intently to the spirit's words. “Well, I liked it,” she said, hoping to cheer up the lost soul.

The ghost’s ears perked up. “Really?” she asked, her voice raising an octave. The ghost noticed her rise in tone, and took a moment to compose herself. She cleared her throat. “Well, of course you would. It was my original work.”

Vinyl inwardly chuckled at how quickly her demeanor changed. Weather out of genuine laughter or from anxiety, she wasn’t sure. “So, um…” Vinyl started, then paused as she tried to remember the spectator's name. “Melody, was it?”

“Octavia Melody,” the ghostly mare corrected proudly, her head held high in pride. Soon, however, Octavia quickly lowered in and narrowed her eyes, her voice turned sour. “Of course your kind would care not to remember my name.”

Vinyl blinked. “My kind...? Unicorns? Why would we not care?”

The spirit rounded on Vinyl and let out an irritated huff. “Because you bloody witches did this to me!” she screamed.

Vinyl screamed in response, scared.  The mare attempted to back up, only to trip on the tattered remains of a rug.  She then fell onto her rump—eyes wide and heart pounding.

Octavia immediately regretted screaming at the white mare and winced. She held a spectral hoof out towards her as if trying to stop her from running away. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. Please, forgive me. I-I promise I won’t hurt you!”

Vinyl stood back up on shaky hooves, then brushed the dust dirt from her hoodie. Once completed, the mare then stared at Octavia for a moment and gauged her sincerity. Only once she figured that what the spirit said was true, she sat back down on the chair in the front row. “I-It’s fine…” she muttered anxiously. “I mean, if I were a ghost, I’d be kinda pissed too.”

“Ghost?” Octavia repeated. “Well, I guess you could call me that.”

Vinyl titled her head in confusion. “What? Did you think you were something else?”

Octavia shrugged. “I always thought this was a curse. A bloody spell put on me by the witch, er… the unicorn that… that killed me.” The phantom looked down in shame and sorrow.

Vinyl didn’t know what to say at that point. What could you say to a ghost to cheer them up when they have been reminded of their own death? There’s never been a scenario about that, and, as such, there was no protocol. Vinyl was at a loss for words.

Octavia spoke again after a few moments of silent tears. “I’m sorry, but... I believe I have neglected to ask your name.”

“Oh, uh… Vinyl Scratch.”

“Vinyl Scratch,” Octavia repeated with a chuckle. “Like a record?”

Vinyl laughed with her. “Yeah, I guess so. Fits nicely with the job title and all.”

“Job? You’re a musician too?”

The white mare nodded. “Yeah, you can say I am. I didn’t get a cutie mark like this for being a carpenter, y’know? Now, I don’t play the string, but I know my way around music.”

“Oooh, I get it!” said Octavia. “So, what do you play, then? Piano?”

Vinyl scratched her neck. “Well, uh, no. I’m a DJ.”

“DJ?” Octavia tilted her head. “What’s that?”

“Y’know, disk jockey!”

The spirit shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid don’t know what that is.”

Vinyl mentally kicked herself. Duh! She’s like a hundred years old! “It’s a, uh… modern… thing? I work with records.”

“Modern…” Octavia whispered, then her head dipped in sadness, once again. “Tell me, Vinyl, how long has it been? How long have I been… trapped here, like this? I’ve lost track a long, long time ago…”

Vinyl looked away, saddened at the sight of the lonely spirit. “It’s been about… eighty years, I believe, since you, uh… y’know.”

Octavia gazed at a spot in the wall, lost in thought. “Eighty years…” she whispered.

Vinyl looked around, quickly trying to think of something to say before Octavia would start to cry again. “B-b-but, even so, you’re still remembered! Hell, your death sparked a, uh, a-a cultural revolution! You basically became a… uh… dammit, what’s the word… matron?”

Octavia blinked at her. “I think the word you are searching for is ‘martyr’, and… really? That all happened... because of me?”

Vinyl nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Princess Celestia was so pissed off after you died, she went all like ‘I’m tired of these damn ponies being racist!’ and basically changed the whole social class thingy.”

Octavia listened intently at the unicorn’s tale, and took a step closer to the mare with each second. “Goodness, is that really true? If so, are earth ponies are no longer treated as second-class citizens?”

“Yep! Well, there’s, like, a few unicorns in the higher up that still haven’t gotten the message, but besides those pricks, racism is pretty much dead.” She chuckled. “To be honest, it’s pretty much all thanks to you.”

Octavia stared at Vinyl, eyes wide in surprise. “So, I went down in history as a martyr. Golly, I wish I can see it for myself.”

Vinyl nodded, then a thought occurring to her. “So, uh, Octavia… can I ask you something?”

“Hmm? Yes?”

Vinyl hesitated. “You, uh… you mentioned that there were other ponies that came in here before, but they all ran away. Am I… the only one that, uh… y’know, came back?”

Octavia nodded sadly. “There’s been a hoof-full of ponies that came and went over the years. Five, maybe six. At first, I was scared and confused. I ran up to them, asking them for help, wanting to know what was going on. But, they would all just run and scream, never coming back. Eventually, I just got tired of it. I didn’t care who came in here because I knew they wouldn’t stay long.” She wiped her eyes and looked at Vinyl with a smile. “But you came back, and I thank you for that. Thank you, Vinyl, for not being scared of me.”

Vinyl smiled back at her and nodded. “You’re welcome, Octavia. Truth be told, I’m still shaking, but I think it’s more of the ‘holy-shit-ghosts-are-real-and-I’m-talking-to-a-ghost-right-now’ than a ‘I’m-gonna-die’ thing.”

Octavia chuckled. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that. As much as I hate my current situation, there’s no point in taking it out on innocent ponies that had nothing to do with it.” Her chuckling grew into laughter. “Can you imagine me trying to possess you or something silly like that?!”

Vinyl waved her off. “Pssh, you wouldn’t like my body. I eat way too much junk food.”

Both mares laughed at the silliness of the corporal one's joke. Vinyl looked at the spectre in front of her. Past what’s on the outside: what she’s perceived to be. The white mare felt sorry for all the other ponies that ran screaming from her, as they were never able to get to know who the poor soul really was. She wasn’t an angry, malevolent spirit out for revenge. She was merely a lonely, lost soul that just wants somepony to talk to.

Vinyl let out a yawn, then rubbed her eyes. “Hey, Octavia? I think I should be getting home now—if my brother wakes up, and I'm not home, he’ll probably call the guard.”

“You have a brother?” She frowns. “Are your parents not home to watch him?”

Vinyl frowns, her upturn expression immediately replaced with one of sadness, then anger. “My… our parents aren't with us anymore…”

Octavia gasped and clapped a hoof to her mouth. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry.”

She waved her off. “Don’t worry about it—just forget I said anything.”

Octavia rubbed the back of her neck. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

Vinyl smiled. “Thanks.” She looked behind her. “But, yeah, I really should be getting home. Thanks for not possessing me ‘n’ all that.”

Octavia chuckled, but soon her demeanor changed as she watched her new friend walk away. “Will I see you again?!” she blurted out as her face turned red. “I-It’s just that… I-I haven’t talked to anypony in such a long time a-and… I… I really liked talking to you…”

Vinyl turned around towards the flustered ghost. How does she even blush? She doesn’t have blood! She smiled at her. “Of course! I’ll be back tomorrow, and again on Friday after work. Actually, I’ll probably visit every night after work.”

Octavia beamed, then floated off the stage. “Oh really?!” she asked, her voice higher pitched than normal. “Thank you, Vinyl!” The phantom outstretched her forelegs and hugged Vinyl briefly before realizing what she did and quickly recollected herself. She adjusted her bowtie, cleared her throat, then said, “See you tomorrow, then,” and quickly disappeared from sight.

Vinyl, on the other hoof, tightened her hoodie around her and shivered. Octavia was really cold. Her coat felt like soft ice, chilling her to the core. She made her way out of the old building and trotted home happily. All-in-all, she made the right choice coming back to the theatre. Not only had she satisfied her curiosity, but she may have also made a new friend.

Vinyl stopped dead in her tracks right outside her door. A single, frightening thought passed through her head. I just made friends with a ghost… she shivered. what the hell is going on with my life?

Next Chapter: Chapter: 3 Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 23 Minutes