A spotlight settled on centre stage.

There stood a tall creature, jagged teeth and tattered fabric – and a pair of horns that reached ever closer to the sky in a twisted dance. A gasp came from the audience. The string of a violin announced the opening of the next and final act.

“With these claws of mine of bone and steel sharpened. I will do that which no other dares. A crime most foul, to take the life of another.”

A mare galloped onto stage, theatrically panting for air. “Don’t! Asmodeus, don’t! There is no need! No need at all!” She pleaded.

Asmodeus’s boney snout pointed at her, a looming menace that stood thrice higher than her. “Was it not your own desire to see his end? I may well bloody my own hands, lest yours be bloodied in my place.”

She shook her head, “I don’t want to be become a killer Asmodeus.”

“Yet I am excluded all the same – for what good does such a reputation serve? If I am to be the monster, at least allow me to fulfil that purpose for our sake.”

A stallion trotted onto stage, a dramatic sting from the band below the front of the stage signalling the incoming conflict. “Do not act as if I am ignorant you foolish being.”

The mare backed away, “Mayor!”

“The lies I weave, the words I speak, they are for the craven and the desperate. The words do not matter, but rather their belief in them.” The mayor wore a deep purple suit and red tie, his mane slicked back. The very image of the corrupt politician. “There is no fight in me. Kill me if you please.”

Asmodeus stared at the Mayor, his empty eye sockets piercing through his veil or arrogance. “You fear me, for words cannot protect you from the slighted. Forgive me Anabelle.”

“No, don’t!”

Asmodeus held out his hand as a beam of black light shot towards the Mayor’s chest. He wailed and cried, before collapsing onto the stage with a bang. And just like that, it was over. The mare dashed over to his body and shifted him in an attempt to wake him. “No, how did this happen?”

The tall creature hobbled over to the tearful mare and shook his head. “Words will become reality, for I have nothing left.”

“What will you do now?”

“I will leave this town. There is no victory, the poison that he lay is too strong to cure. Goodbye Anabelle.”

Without another word being said. The lights fade and the curtains are drawn as the audience applauds the performance. Franz took off his costume’s helmet and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. The rest of the cast hurried onto the stage and assembled around him. Curtain (aptly named) pulling open the red drapes again so they could take their bow.

Franz always hated this part.

It was no secret that he was the primary curiosity behind the play’s popularity. A human – the extraordinarily rare race of creature that only came around one or twice every couple of decades. It made Franz feel like a sideshow attraction and not a stage actor, which is what he really was. (It was a good thing that Manehattan had a bustling theatre industry.) The crowd applauded once more as Franz and the ponies bowed. Franz could feel all of their wide eyes looking at him, the sweat that he’d wiped away a moment ago returning quickly.

Curtain Puller (his name - not his job,) drew them to a close. Franz took a deep breath. A stampede of hooves could be heard from the seating area as the ponies started to rouse themselves and leave. The actors and crew patted and hugged each other for another show well done.

“I’m sweating like a pig,” he complained, rushing to take the costume off. The lights didn’t help matters. He had to stand under them for nearly two hours after all.

His co-star Poppy looked up to him, “I didn’t know pigs could sweat!”

Franz shook his head, “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“Hey, hey!” Shouted an obnoxious voice from behind a piece of the set. “Great show, great show!” It was the theatre manager – Red Rope. His crimson mane was matted down with a natural grease that was not flattering to the eye. His end of show rundown was worse than any amount of stage fright. Red Rope had never acted in his life, yet he acted like an authority on the quality of the work every single time. Sneering and quipping, his parents should have named him Nit Picker.

The cast gathered around for the daily verbal lashing. “I think we’re getting better. I don’t have many notes at all for this one.” He held up his damn notepad and flipped through the pages. “Franz, pal, buddy, can we change the delivery on some of those last lines?”

“How do you mean?” Franz asked, waving his hands.

“I mean like, uh, it’s too theatrical. I want some sorrow you know?”

Franz was close to slapping the man for changing his mind again. Every week Red Rope has asked him to modify the delivery of the final scene. At one point he said it wasn’t dramatic enough, but now he wanted it to be more sorrowful.

“Alright, I know it’s really late. So I’ll just bring some of these up next practice. Make sure you clean up after yourselves, another group is using this place tomorrow!”

Franz turned to Poppy, who had taken off her costume. “Let me take that, I’m putting mine back too.” He took the small dress into his left hand and walked away.

“Thank you, Franz!”

Franz passed the other members of the troupe. They were chatting away happily and putting away various props and background pieces. He and Poppy were the only ones with the big costumes, the mayor’s actor - Super Trouper (no relation to the song nor the brand of spotlight which doesn’t exist in Equestria; much to Franz’s bewilderment,) had brought the suit in himself.

The back closet was a dusty bumhole in an otherwise nice and well-kept theatre building. Franz could feel the pony asbestos entering his lungs every time he opened the door to grab the costumes. It was preceded by a cheap, thin wooden door with a loose handle. Franz pushed through and walked in, feeling around for the light switch on his right side.

Yellow light flooded the space. This was a low budget theatre, so many of the costumes were hoof made. That or you just didn’t get one. Chrome racks ran up and down the length of the room. Franz shivered slightly, that wasn’t right. This room was usually warm unless somebody opened the back window. The many dresses and animal suits waved in the breeze. Franz hoped that somebody hadn’t broken in and stolen something important.

“Hello? Is somebody there?”

The room was small, but Franz was always one to do thing the cautious way. He’d rather give them a chance to surrender or run away rather than confront them and get into a scuffle. Franz stepped in, once, twice, deeper and deeper. Every gap in between the fabric a possible hiding place. It was a horrible time to be Franz’s nerves.

The average pony wasn’t into fighting. But Franz knew that there were a lot of weird things out there that he’d never seen before. Dragons, hydras, and other mythical creatures. The odds of one of them coming into the middle of the city was slim to none. But Franz knew that his fears didn’t have to be rational.

“Hello?” he ventured again. He stopped in the centre of the long room and waited, the only sounds were coming from the busy street outside, many of the ponies who had just attended the performance were still outside of the building.

Franz frowned and walked to the clothes rack, carefully sliding the battered outfit onto a hangar. Poppy’s costume followed. Franz turned to face the open window at the far end of the room. He needed to close it before something damaged the costumes.

Somebody was watching.

Franz walked to the window and pulled it shut – the thing had always had a bad habit of not wanting to shut correctly. Years of neglect had left parts of the theatre in a bad way. The window wasn’t much good for looking out onto the street, it was too high for a pony and too small for an adult to squeeze through.

But the creature who’d broken in wasn’t just any pony.

Franz turned on his heel to leave, but his gaze grazed a bright blue orb hiding between the large costumes kept at the back of the room. He stared at it. What was that? It was almost glowing in the low light of the room. Did somebody leave it there?

Franz closed in. If somebody from the troupe had left their belongings in there, then he’d need to give them back. This was not a storage space that he’d leave any of his things in. Franz leaned in to get a closer look – and then he held out his hand.

“Fuck!”

Franz’s entire body tensed as a black creature latched on his lower arm. Through the fabric of his shirt. Red stains emerged from the bite. But even still the little thing wouldn’t let go. Franz shook his arm in a frantic attempt to shake away his attacker. He could feel a burning sensation where the bite has happened – and it was starting to spread.

“Get off me you bastard!” The creature made a strange clicking noise. Franz didn’t want to shake too hard for fear of ripping off his arm in the process. They might be small, but the average pony was quite heavy. Instead he forced his other hand against its muzzle and pushed with all his strength. His arm was stabbed by a thousand imaginary needles as his nerves pulsed in pain.

He threw the pony across the floor and gripped his bleeding arm. “Get out of here you crazy bastard! Out!”

The creature scrambled under Franz’s spread legs and pulled the window back open with it’s magic. They squeezed through, flashing his balls on the way out. Franz stood in stunned silence for a moment, did a homeless pony just break in and bite him? What kind of pony has entirely blue eyes anyway?

Poppy’s head peered through the still open door, “Franz, why are you shouting?” She gasped when she saw the state of his arm. “Oh Celestia! What happened?”

Franz shook his head and shut the window again. He made sure to lock it this time. “I don’t know, some crazy pony just broke in and bit me.”

Poppy seemed off put by the idea. “Bit you? A pony’s teeth aren’t sharp enough to do that…”

Franz walked past Poppy and walked over to the first aid kit that was kept backstage. “I’m going to have to see a doctor.” He pulled it open and wrapped his injured arm with a bandage. “I guess even Equestria has people like that.” From Franz’s perspective the place was a paradise. Crime, homelessness, anti-social behaviour, they were practically non-existent. From the moment that a pony was born they were hammered over the head with the virtues of friendship and understanding.

Franz had gotten into the line of thinking that there was nobody out to cause trouble. He should have known better; he was living in the biggest city in the country. And not everyone had the benefit of Equestria’s friendship focused education system and culture. He sat down on a much too small chair and leant back, he felt ill. Like a sudden flu had come over him.

Poppy frowned, “Hm, I think you should see one sooner rather than later, you look ill.”

Franz chuckled, “You’ve never seen an ill human.” He was stubborn, he wasn’t going to admit how bad he felt. Franz listened to the sounds of the other theatre actors packing away for several minutes without moving. It was odd to him that Poppy wasn’t saying anything. She was a nosy mare. Franz’s head didn’t feel like it was going to fall off anymore, so he tilted it back down. Poppy was still there. He’d expected her to have left already.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m going to go sleep it off. And then I’ll go see a doctor tomorrow. Don’t think he will help.” Franz waved his arm in an attempt to shoo her away.

“Okay, if you say so.”

The mare trotted away, glancing back as she rounded the corner. She had work to finish. What was the worst that could happen? Franz held up his arm and pulled up the edge of the bandage. The skin around the bite was blackened, like a sudden onset of frostbite.

“Oh.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 1: Manehattan in the Morning Estimated time remaining: 43 Minutes