Okay. Going to assume the building is symmetrical, so there'll be two staircases at opposite points close to the center of the building. I'm near one now. If I don't hear him at this one, he'll be at the other one. Dammit, the old song is right- the waiting really is the hardest part.

Of course, his plan rested on the assumption that he could hear anything shy of a main battle tank coming up the stairs at all. The storm outside had become a squall, raindrops thundering against the walls like someone had placed the building underneath a waterfall, and heavy winds threatened to push the entire inn off of its foundations; even well inside the building, the racket was considerable. But the very storm that made staying inside with a predator dangerous made leaving almost suicidal- blundering out into a veritable monsoon in the black of night guaranteed death by exposure at best, if not being swept away by a flash flood or having a less-sturdy building collapse on him.

Of course, being stuck inside an abandoned, pitch-black building with a corrupted timberwolf who could potentially pinpoint his location with ease wasn't the best situation either- but Jacob, in a way, had home-field advantage. This was an abandoned building, not so different from many others he had made his way through, and the dangers and opportunities such a place presented him were far more clear to his experienced eye than they would be to some darkness-infested wild animal.

creak

Jacob's body tensed. The sound had echoed up from the stairwell he was watching, just a little too loudly to be settling building materials. He made sure that the cloth he'd tied around the front of his flashlight to dim its output was still on securely, then risked a glance over the railing, staring down the winding stairs.

Something was projecting a dim but noticeable green glow onto the stairs leading away from the third floor. It seemed to be the timberwolf, but... something was off about it; he kept his position despite every instinct telling him to run, straining to hear above the beating of his heart. Come on, up or down, quit blocking the stairs, he mentally ordered whatever it was he was seeing.

It obliged; the green glow shifted, moved, slid along the stairs leading up- slowly, cautiously. It had to be his hunter, but if the light was coming from its eyes, why did the angle look wrong?

Then a flash of lightning snaked its way into the stairwell, and for a split-second his adversary was framed in a column of white light... and for the second time that night, Jacob's blood turned to ice. The creature had grown, somehow, even larger than when he'd seen it transform outside- it approached the height of an Bernese Mountain Dog, but its form was much leaner, more angular, with thin sticks jutting out along its spine. Its body seemed to ooze darkness, as if it were wearing a cloak of pure shadow. Well, I think I know what it was doing out in the rain, he thought. Must have been out pulling more energy or whatever from some of the other runes.

Doesn't matter. Plan stays the same. I'll just have to be... how would Dash put it? “Twenty percent more cautious”. At least I know the thing needs light just as much as I do.

He placed his back against the wardrobe he'd maneuvered into position at the top of the stairs, peeked around its edge and waited. That eerie green glow made its way to the fourth floor landing and paused- and then there was the distinct sound of sniffing, and then a growl. Obviously it had picked up his scent. Yep, I'm right up here, tough guy, he thought. Come and get me.

Just as that glow illuminated the stairs leading up to the fifth floor, Jacob shoved the wardrobe over the edge of the staircase. The heavy oaken furniture, filled with as much debris and junk as he could scrape together in the short time he'd had, slammed into the staircase- and crashed through the rotten wood as though it weren't even there. And that's why I went all the way across the fourth floor to the other staircase instead of taking that part of these stairs, he thought with a sense of satisfaction, watching the wardrobe and the remains of the staircase crash down on the timberwolf's head.

Or almost on it, anyway. The creature just barely avoided having its skull smashed flat with a backwards juke, but it couldn't quite keep its paws on the stairs and tumbled down to the landing, followed by the half-shattered wardrobe, all of the junk that had been inside of it, and pieces of the staircase. There was a brief snarl as the creature ended up half-buried under the pile of rubble that resulted, and then a ruckus as it struggled its way free. Damn, I was hoping that alpha strike would end all my problems. No such luck. But still- first point goes to me... and now, time to fall back.

As silently as he could, he retreated into the fifth floor hallway, checking several of the rooms along the way- not only to see what was inside, but to check for possible destroyed floors, ceilings or walls he could use as emergency passages; the fact that he was spreading his scent around to confuse the creature was a minor but not unwelcome bonus. He deliberately avoided room 509 along the way. I don't think I'm ready to look in there. I need all my concentration.

The last door in the hallway was some sort of utility closet. Hoping for something he could use as a weapon besides the two blades he was still carrying, he pulled the door open- and was greeted by darkness and wind. The closet, the room next to it, and a fair section of the rooms above and below them had more or less disappeared. Not an exit, he thought, carefully closing the door again before the wind had a chance to slam it into the corner.

crash

Guess who just found the other staircase? He let out an almost inaudible sigh. Okay. Not enough time to set up another trap... looks like we're running the obstacle course. He made a beeline for the stairs he'd just partially destroyed and took them up to the seventh floor. Let's see... suites? What's inside these- ah hah! Now if I can just find one with a way into the next room over....

Room 702 had seen some egregious water damage at some point, and was not only missing much of the wall separating it from 700, but some of the floor as well. More importantly, it had a huge armoire next to the door, with just enough room between it and the opposite wall for him to wedge himself between them and brace a leg against the armoire, clicking his light off as he took position.

He let out a hiss of pain as the wound in his side flared again. A moment later, there was a snarl out in the hallway. That's it, wolfie, I'm over here. Cowering in the corner in fear and just waiting for you to come eat my face. So let's hurry this up, huh?

Slowly, carefully, he began to push against the armoire with his foot, gritting his teeth with the effort it took not only to apply the force but to control it to such precision. The wood beneath the furniture creaked in protest, and he could only pray that the floor didn't give out beneath it before he had a chance to spring this trap.

Slowly, the floor just past the slightly-ajar door brightened, and then the door itself creaked almost inaudibly as something pushed it open. A couple of more sniffs came from outside, and then a soft growl and the thump of something against wood- the creature was making its way in.

Three, two, one... now! The armoire seemed to growl in protest as it finally gave over to gravity with one more push. The wood snapped and shattered as it hit what lay beneath it- including the timberwolf, which had apparently been far too intent on looking ahead to notice what went on next to it; not all of the sounds of breaking wood came from the furniture as it slammed down.

Jacob took a moment to catch his breath before daring to click on his flashlight and step around the now-wrecked armoire. The thing had practically broken in half on impact with the broad shoulders of the timberwolf, but the impact had done its job- the creature was splayed out on the floor, unmoving, the green light from its eyes fading away. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a slow, shuddering sigh. Thank God that's over, he thought. I was expecting a tougher fight- I'm almost tempted to think that it was too easy to be believed-

His breath caught in his throat as the timberwolf's body shuddered, and the wicked green glow returned to its eyes.

-brain, you're fucking fired. Clean out your desk and go.

He slowly backed away, one hand still holding up the flashlight and the other gripping the handle of one of his blades. That vicious muzzle shook back and forth, harsh snarls escaping from it, as the creature began to thrash and buck underneath the furniture pinning it down; he could see thin trails of darkness work their way up the cracks in the wood paneling, rotting it away at a distressingly quickening pace. After a moment, part of the ruined armoire pinning it down simply broke off, moldering even as it fell, and the creature bunched its legs up underneath it to begin pushing itself up.

Jacob spun on his heel and ran for the adjoining room. Time to get the hell out of here before that thing- gah!

Apparently the water damage that had obliterated the wall between rooms 702 and 700 had also done a significant yet stealthy job on the floor around the area, as Jacob was surprised to discover when it simply caved in under one of his feet. His brief yelp of terror as he fell was cut off as his chest slammed into long-rotted wood, collapsing more of the floor and showering room 600 with flakes of timber, shreds of rotted carpet and one dazed human.

thwack

Fortunately, the bed inside room 600 stopped Jacob from hitting the floor, at the cost of its own legs; it slammed into the carpet with a heavy thud, and dust shot up like confetti at a celebration. Jacob tried desperately not to wind up in a coughing fit that would further torment his already-aching chest. Slowly he started to climb off the bed-

thump

-and then reflexively kicked out at the dark shape that had landed on the mattress right next to him. The timberwolf didn't even have time for a threatening snarl before Jacob's foot sent it tumbling off the bed and crashing to the floor; he could hear it scrabbling to get back on its paws even as he hustled for the door, which he yanked open and dashed through... and then turned back to slam it shut just in time to block the corrupted wolf's leap towards him. The door cracked at the impact, but held.

Have fun gnawing through that, pooch, he thought, clutching his sore chest and coughing as he ran back down the hallway. Dammit, I think I inhaled my own body weight in dust there. At least I didn't get impaled through the chest by a beam or something. Wouldn't that have been an embarrassing way for things to end....

He could have sworn that he almost felt the door burst open, like it had been rigged with explosives. A deep snarl served to notify him that the timberwolf had gotten out of the room and was, indeed, pissed. A jolt of adrenaline shot through him as he realized he was in a seriously bad position- he was still a good distance from the stairs, and there was no time to check more than room; if he chose poorly, he'd end up trapped. One thing to do then... full speed ahead!

The muscles in his chest protested as he sprinted as fast as he could for the stairwell. He could hear the heavy thumps of the timberwolf's paws as it pursued, gaining much too quickly for his comfort. No time to take the stairs; only have one option....

With the timberwolf so close that he could see his own faint shadow from its eyes, he made it into the stairwell- then jumped onto the railing and leaped, arms outstretched. His hands slapped the railing for the opposite side of the staircase, slipped, and just barely managed to get a grip on the posts. A split-second later, a heavy crack and a loud yelp notified him that the timberwolf hadn't been able to stop its charge before it hit the railing he'd jumped off of... and another crack followed closely by a thud announced that it had hit the railing for the next set of stairs leading down.

Unfortunately Jacob couldn't look down to see what condition the wolf had ended up in, as he was too busy trying to pull himself up onto the stairs. Slowly, with painstaking effort, he managed to get himself high enough to grasp the railing itself and set both feet on the edge of the staircase-

snap

-only to have the railing break away, sending him falling backwards with it still in his hands. In a move of pure desperation, he pushed himself off the edge of the staircase with his feet, trying to get himself back to the landing he'd jumped from before, twisting in midair so that he wouldn't land on his backpack and its fragile contents.

thwack

That decision had the unfortunate side effect of him slamming belly-first into a still-intact piece of the railing, ripping it free as if it were made of balsa wood and landing on top of it as he hit the platform. The impact drove the air from his lungs and left him groaning and gasping for breath as he pulled himself away from the edge. Sweet mother of fuck, that hurts, he thought, slowly getting to his hands and knees and then standing unsteadily; his entire front was sore now, and he knew he was going to have a nice set of bruises shortly.

He turned back towards the stairwell, pulled the cloth from the flashlight's front and shone the beam down where he figured the timberwolf had landed- only to find nothing there but a shattered railing and a black mark of some kind staining the carpet. Despite his instincts screaming at him not to bother, he risked a closer look. Not blood, he realized. More of that rotting effect. Is it leaking off of that thing's body, somehow? And if it is... how is it holding its own body together without being affected? Okay, Jake, conjecture later; find a good place for surveillance now.

He picked up a sizable piece of the railing he'd smashed to serve as a club, then headed up the stairs for the tenth floor- only to find that a good amount of the roof had caved in, sealing it off just a bit past halfway beyond the ninth floor. The rubble was so dense that not even the rain was making it in. A quick walk across the hallway confirmed that the other stairwell was similarly blocked off. Well, so much for the penthouse suites, I suppose. I wonder if there's anything-

He barely had any warning- just a blur of green light and the sound of paws on carpet. It was just enough time to brace himself for impact as the timberwolf slammed into his shoulder; he could hear its teeth clack together in the space by his ear where his throat had just been a second ago, before the both of them hit the door for room 912... and shattered it like a window.

Both of them tumbled out into wind and water. A fair amount of the ceiling remained, but the rain was falling nearly diagonally, drenching what remained of the bare, half-rotted floor- which Jacob met shoulder-first, sliding uncomfortably close to the far edge, while the timberwolf leapt off of him in order to escape a potential nine-story fall.

He was quick to scramble away from the precipitous drop and get back to his feet before the creature could take advantage, then squared off against it, carefully sidestepping towards the door, keeping his makeshift club at the ready while the timberwolf likewise sidled to match his movements. He could hear his heart thudding in his ears even over the roar of the rain as his body tensed, ready to start fighting for his life-

-when, seemingly noiselessly, the far end of the floor dropped like someone had pulled out its support, turning it into a dangerously slippery ramp. Jacob landed hard on his backside, almost losing his grip on his club, and frantically dug his heels in to try to halt his slide; his right foot caught on a jutting piece of wood that was just big enough to stop his momentum. Further down, the timberwolf managed to halt itself by digging its claws into the floor, deeply enough to peel off long ribbons of rotten wood.

And there they sat for a moment, rain pounding against them, staring at each other. Jacob considered throwing his club at the wolf to try to knock it loose, but wasn't sure he'd be able to manage a hit- so after a moment he simply tucked it under his jacket, drew one of his blades, and drove it between two planks in order to use it as an impromptu climbing axe. Then the other blade came out, and he repeated the process, going hand over hand while his shoes slid across the soaking-wet floor, desperately seeking purchase. He couldn't see or hear what the timberwolf was doing to resolve its own situation, but he could only assume that it was catching up to him and that he needed to hurry.

Finally, he reached the doorway; he threw one sword into the hall, gripped the ledge with his now-free hand, then started to pull himself up- only to be yanked back by something gripping the end of his pants leg. In a panic, he kicked blindly, scoring a glancing blow on what seemed to be the timberwolf's muzzle; its fangs tore through the bottom of his pants as the creature slid back, and he hustled his way back up into the hallway.

Parked next to the wall further down the hall was a steel pushcart that gleamed in the glow of his flashlight. As quickly as his tired limbs could manage, he sprinted for it sheathing his remaining blade as he ran, then grabbed it in both hands, spun around and hurled it towards the open door he'd just climbed through; his aim was good, but his throw was late- the timberwolf was just now making its way into the hall, saw the cart on a collision course with its head and barely managed to leap aside as the carrier slammed into the doorway and tumbled off into the darkness.

Jacob had just managed to get the chunk of wood back out from his jacket when the beast leapt at him. It was by sheer luck that he juked the right way to avoid being slam-tackled by the creature, but he couldn't quite keep his balance and ended up hitting the wall shoulder-first; the wolf landed, executed a quick turn and jumped again, aiming for his legs. His desperate jump kept those wicked fangs from clamping on a leg, but his knee smacked its shoulder and sent him spinning in the air to once more land on his chest. Pain lanced through him as a brief yell escaped his lips.

No time to hurt, that thing's going to be on you again, fucking move!

He could hear the beast's claws tearing at the carpet as it came at him again, and as soon as he made it to one knee he threw himself to the side. He felt the foliage covering the wolf's body brush against his face as it flew past, and one of its rear legs hit his shoulder, turning its graceful leap into an uncontrolled tumble.

My turn.

Adrenaline turned his pain into a dull ache as he charged at the still-recovering timberwolf, both arms raised above his head with the club clenched in both hands, the beast framed in the light from the flashlight still strapped to his hat. His first swing clipped the timberwolf's muzzle, the second caught it in the side of the head, but the third missed completely when the wolf stumbled back; he lost his balance again and fell onto the wolf, slamming into its side with his own and knocking it off its paws. Its teeth clacked together just in front of his face, and he instinctively brought the club up to protect himself- just in time, as those powerful jaws clamped down on it. Immediately the makeshift club began to creak as fingers of black rot streaked across its surface.

The timberwolf's eyes flared green as it pressed its advantage, trying to bite through the chunk of wood that was the only thing keeping his throat from being its chew toy. Slowly it pushed the club towards him, snarling around it, its teeth grinding down on the thick oak wood.

That's it... closer... closer... now!

He stopped resisting the wolf's pushing for just a moment, and the club lurched towards him- until he drove his forehead into it, jamming it further into the creature's mouth, snapping its jaw and breaking several of its teeth. The creature stumbled back as Jacob fought the urge to pass out from the cranial trauma- but he managed to keep his wits about him, gritting his teeth as he sat up. “I've had enough of your bullshit,” he murmured, reaching for the knife he'd sheathed earlier.

It took a supreme effort to lunge forward and grab the timberwolf's still-open muzzle before it could get away. With one quick motion, he buried the blade in its throat, twisting and pulling, hearing whatever the creature had for a windpipe crack and break; a weak gurgle escaped its mouth and its body jerked about for a moment, until he yanked the blade free and the lupine form collapsed onto the floor, its twitches gradually slowing and then stopping.

There was a strange bubbling sound from the short sword, and he looked down at it. The blade was practically melting away, the black slime coating it eating at the metal like an exceptionally effective acid; with a grimace, he let it fall from his fingers before staggering to his feet. “Are we done?” he questioned the unmoving body in front of him, before delivering a weak kick to its belly. “Yeah. We're done.”

The other knife had disappeared somewhere during the struggle, and he didn't feel up to looking for it. But with his pursuer finally down for the count, he had the chance to look into something else before he finally called it a night. So he carefully- and painfully- made his way back down to the fifth floor and along the hallway until he reached his destination. And there he stood, swaying just a little, staring at the door in front of him, reading the plaque still set on it.

509. First's room. I shouldn't even go in there... it feels like I'm violating her privacy, even after her death. But no matter what happens, tomorrow's the last time I'm ever going to see her- and I guess I've just come to care about her too much to want to spend the rest of my life wondering how she felt about me in return.

The door opened smoothly, revealing a dusty but otherwise-tidy room that had somehow managed to avoid any real damage, aside from some water stains on the wall facing the outside. Several personal items had been left on the dresser, including a brush and small mirror; he could see that the alarm clock by the bed had been set to ring at seven. “Wanted to make sure you saw me on time, huh?” he murmured. “I appreciate that....”

Near the far wall, a jacket and a familiar set of saddlebags were hung from a coat rack; both were absolutely covered in dust, but showed no sort of damage. He blew as much of the dust off as he could, then wrapped his hand with some fabric so he could get the rest without turning his palm black. Yet he still hesitated for a moment before opening the clasps and pulling back the flaps.

Inside were a small amount of unused medical supplies, fliers for some of the shows, a couple of mashed-up food wrappers and a coinpurse that still held a dozen or so bits. Well, that makes sense, he realized. She has the saddlebags for carrying stuff around in the city; she wouldn't put anything personal in there. He left the coat rack and began looking across the rest of the room, until his gaze came to rest on the nightstand next to the bed. Well, that's where Trixie kept her diary... I wonder....

It turned out that two very different mares thought alike in at least one way. Jacob carefully lifted First's journal out of the bedstand drawer; it looked relatively new, but showed signs of use. A thin blue bookmark dangled from between the pages about one-third of the way from the front cover. Keep it recent, he told himself. You're already prying enough as it is; don't go peeking at the personal stuff that doesn't even involve you.

His fingers flipped through the pages until he came to the entry of the day she arrived in Canterlot. Once more, he set the flashlight down, shook the dust from the sheets and took a seat, noting for a moment that everything had gone quiet again- apparently the worst of the storm had blown past- before leaning his aching back against the headboard and reading.

“Finally arrived in Canterlot! The city's a lot bigger than I ever imagined. This hotel is really swank- I'm glad I saved up the bits to get a nice place to stay while I'm in town. Met a kinda strange guy named Story... something. Finder? Seeker? I think Seeker. He seemed out of it, but I guess long train trips will do that. I invited him to hang out with me and my friends- I dunno what made me decide to, really, but he seems like a nice stallion and maybe some time with friendly faces will perk him up.

“Speaking of, gotta go catch up with Noteworthy, Derpy and the others. I haven't seen Dinky in a year and never got to meet Sparkler; I'm excited to finally get the chance!”

The next entry was written a little more shakily, possibly due to First being excited or emotional. “Still can't believe what happened today! Dinky could've been killed! Some dumbflank moron didn't do proper upkeep on a scaffold and it almost fell on her head! Story was checking out a clock shop and saw her wander underneath it. A whole bunch of ponies saw him run in, scoop her up and just barely get both of them out before it hit! I could tell he was pretty shaken up himself- right now he's back at his room taking a nap- but still, you wouldn't think he was the heroic type by looking at him!

“Okay, maybe that's a little mean-sounding. I don't mean that he seems like a bad pony or anything- it's that he's so quiet and withdrawn sometimes that it seems like he'd rather not be around others. But then he opens up a little and starts talking, and it's like there's this whole other pony inside him.” He couldn't help laughing at that. “If only you knew....” he said quietly.

“Noteworthy figures he's one of those introverted types, at least until he feels comfortable enough to come out of his shell. I kind of want to make that happen more often. Note also told me he thought Story was Amey's old flame, says they look almost exactly the same; if that's the case- I never met that bucking jerk, because if I ever did he'd be crapping his teeth for a week- then Story must be his good twin or something.

“Poor Derpy is still a bit of a wreck from what happened. Nopony saw Dinky run off, and not even Dinky knows why she did it! It's weird. It looks like the filly's going to be okay, though- but I think the rest of us are going to keep a really close eye on her and Rumble for a while. I hope there isn't some weirdo pony going around messing with foals. The Royal Guard's looking into what happened, though, so hopefully we'll get answers soon.

“Need to head out to collect everypony soon and check out the Expo. I'm going to get fat if I'm not careful- there's so much great food here that it's hard not to want to stuff my muzzle everywhere we go. It's gonna be REALLY hard to resist temptation at the Expo- there'll be so many food vendors bringing out their best stuff!”

He needed to take a break to reposition himself; all of his various sore spots were beginning to stiffen, making it difficult to get comfortable. Once he'd finally gotten himself situated in a way that didn't make him clench his teeth in discomfort, he continued reading.

“What a crazy day! We got to meet one of the actual, in-the-hide Bearers today! Turns out Derpy knows a few of them from Ponyville. Applejack was running a fruit stand at the Expo and invited all of us to meet her family and the other Bearers! I'm so tempted to bring something for them to autograph, but I know they're out here to enjoy themselves as much as I am and I don't want to pester them.

“Word's getting around about Story's heroics earlier today. I'm kinda glad to hear it, really; he's a nice stallion and he deserves kudos for what he did. I did have a scare with him just a few minutes ago, though- a piece of the marble pillar out front almost went straight into his back! Poor guy didn't even see it coming, and I had to pull him out of the way. Thankfully it was just a minor laceration with no apparent imbedded particles or infection, so I treated it on the spot with the hotel's first-aid kit and gave the manager a nice loud piece of my mind. Story had to talk me down a bit, nice guy that he is.

“He did worry me a little when I caught up with him this afternoon. I found him sitting on a bench just staring out at nothing, looking really depressed. As much as I want to make a joke about hearing a sad Story, something about that look he had really got to me... he said it was just some dream he had while napping, but sweet Celestia, by his expression I thought he'd just lost a friend or something. I'm glad he eventually snapped out of it, but still- nopony should ever look that sad!

“Derpy told me a story about how she wrecked City Hall in Ponyville. That's my Derpy! One-mare demolition crew. She and Sparkler got in a bit of an argument over it- that's teenage foals for you; always a little rebellious. Dinky settled things, though. Those kids are so adorable... I never pegged DH for the adoptive type, but I should've known she had a lot of love to give to orphans, being one herself.

“I'd best not stay up too late. I promised Story I'd stop by his room in the morning to check on his wound. Then a big day planned!”

The last entry spanned multiple pages, even written as small as it was. “I can't believe everything that happened today! Story and I received medals from the Princesses in front of everypony! We got to go on stage and there was a song and- okay. I need to calm down; I'm as giddy as a schoolfilly at her first dance. Breathe, First.

“First of all, we got to meet the rest of the Bearers! They really are as friendly as I've heard. Pinkie Pie is one crazy pony, lemme tell you, but she's also a sweetheart. Note, Story and I also got to meet Twilight Sparkle's brother, Shining Armor; he's the Captain of the Royal Guard and a bit of a prankster, getting me and Story to sweat a bit before lightening up. He gave us all VIP access and even an escort for the celebration, though, so hey- no complaints from this filly!

“And then the BIG surprise- Story and I were awarded Solstice Stars! Now Story getting one made sense for what he did, but apparently there were witnesses to me getting him out from under that piece of rock, and I guess someone at the hotel told the Royal Guard about me treating him afterwards. So that ended up with both of us on the stage with the Princesses and being congratulated in front of everypony in the Square! I swear, it's a wonder that I didn't faint right on the spot. My knees still get a little weak just thinking about it! And then there was a song... and all of us ended up being touched by the magic of friendship. I can't even begin to explain how it felt; I don' t know the right words. I don't think I'm ever going to forget it, though.

“Speaking of Story...” There were a few black dots around those words, showing that First might have been tapping her pen there while thinking. “The others have taken to calling him and me 'lovebirds'. I kind of go along with it because it's funny and cute, but... I don't know. Maybe they're on to something. Story told me right out how much he respects what I do for a living, and verbally ripped a new plothole in all the stuffy jerks who like to put me down because I'm not an actual doctor, and I can't begin to say how wonderful that made me feel! I mean, he's absolutely not the uptight bookworm I expected when I first saw him. He's smart and funny and brave, open-minded as all heck, and every time he smiles at me I feel like I've got my own personal sunbeam shining down on me. I only met this guy two days ago... so why do I feel like I'm falling for him?”

There were a couple of crossed out lines that he couldn't read, then: “I keep looking at this picture we all got taken of us, where Pinkie pushed Story into accidentally kissing me. It felt... really nice when he did. This isn't my first time around the track, so to speak, but I've never met a stallion like Story Seeker. Nopony's ever made me feel the way he does. I mean, I went on some silly search for weird symbols painted on the ground with him just because I wanted to spend more time with him!”

There were a couple of scrawls on the page, just abstract shapes she might have drawn while thinking before she'd resumed writing. “I don't know for sure how I feel. But I do know one thing... after tomorrow, I go back to Neighbraska, and I doubt I'll ever see him again. So I've made my mind up- tomorrow morning, I'm going to ask him if he's maybe interested in dating some strange mare who picked him up on a train.

“I really hope he says 'yes'.”

He felt something touch his finger. A piece of paper was sticking out from behind the cover of the journal; he took it out to find a carefully-folded photograph- the very one that had been taken at the Expo, that he'd forgotten to pick up after all the day's events. The colors had faded over time, but he could still easily make out the entire group posed along the street... and there, near the corner, were Story and First, staring at each other in surprise as their lips touched.

A drop of water hit the photo, jittering in place for a moment before rolling off. He glanced up, but the rain had stopped a while back, and there were no leaks above him. Then he brought one trembling hand to his cheek- and it came away wet. He needed more than a couple of moments to collect himself before he could put the picture down. Come on, Jake, pull yourself together, he told himself. I'm going to miss them when I leave, but... I was damn lucky to ever get to know them in the first place! Let alone being able to save them from being obliterated. Maybe none of them will ever know... but I will. And that's good enough for me.

He realized after a moment that he could just barely see the walls of the room around him. Dawn was on its way, and none of the rooms on this floor were likely to be safe- the blinds hardly looked thick enough to stop the sunlight- so he decided to head back up to the seventh floor to take advantage of the thick curtains the rooms there had. He fought the ridiculous urge to put the diary back where he'd found it as he got off the bed. No one's here to find it, he reminded himself. And if everything goes well, this will have never happened.

Sunlight was already starting to stream in through a few open spots, but he knew that the stairwells faced towards the southwest and would be safe for a while. His tired, aching body protested as he left First's room. Won't have any sort of trouble falling asleep, he thought with a soft chuckle, limping his way towards the stairwell.

He was almost there when a bizarre yet recognizable sound froze him in his tracks.

snarrrllllggglgllbbb

Almost against his will, he turned. Standing there in the hallway, right next to the room he'd just left, was the timberwolf; in the faint light that filled the hall, he could see that it was still a mess, the darkness that had surrounded it greatly faded, and its breathing came with soft gurgles from its still-severed windpipe. But it was still alive, still a threat, and it was limping towards him with grim determination. “Fuck,” he breathed, backing away from it as quickly as he could manage- which wasn't very quick at all. “What the hell are you, part-cockroach?!”

He was trapped. His body was too hurt to fight or to flee; all the timberwolf had to do was get him off of his feet, put its teeth to his throat and let its corruptive nature do the rest. He couldn't muster the strength to fend off a determined 10-year-old, let alone this seemingly immortal horror.

He let out a soft grunt as his back hit the corner of the hallway. He had to press one hand against the wall to steady himself, finding the wood oddly warm; his fingertips brushed against a metal handle- and then he realized exactly where he was. Despite his pain and fatigue, he managed a smile, setting himself as well as he possibly could.

And then he began to sing.

“Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting....”

The timberwolf stalked towards him, its expression almost victorious, as it seemed to savor every step it took.

“Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear....”

A thin, barely-visible line of light traced its way across the side of the creature as it strode forward; in only a few seconds it would be within leaping distance of its helpless victim. Slowly, carefully, Jacob slid his still-wrapped hand under the uncomfortably hot door handle.

“...here comes the sun.”

He pulled the door of the destroyed utility closet wide open, ducking behind it to shield himself. The timberwolf had only a brief second to express pure terror as it stared directly at the rising sun, as it flooded the hallway with daylight.

The creature burst into flames almost instantly. There was a weird, ear-piercing screeching sound as the shadows that cloaked it burned away, and the black orbs it had for eyes burst like overripe grapes; parts of the wooden body simply exploded as pockets of sap flash-boiled, and the entirety of its slender frame caught fire like kindling.

Somehow the remnants of the carpet beneath it didn't catch fire as it collapsed to the ground. After a moment, Jacob slammed the door shut and staggered his way towards the corpse; there was no way it was going to be able to get up now- much of the body was ash, and what remained wouldn't be able to move, let alone attack. Still, he took no small amount of satisfaction in grinding the thing's head into soot with his heel.

It was a slow and exceptionally painful climb to the seventh floor, but thankfully neither sunlight nor darkness-spawned horror appeared to stop him as he made his way back into Trixie's room. Even despite the sun beating down on the outside of the building, it was cool enough to be comfortable, and the thick curtains blocked the indirect sunlight from getting through; he removed his backpack and shoes as quickly as he could manage, dropped the pack on the bed and then flopped down next to it, his face hitting the pillow with a soft thump. He was able to stave off exhaustion just long enough to check inside the backpack and ensure that his camera hadn't suffered any serious damage during the fight for his life, then slipped off his glasses and cap and closed his eyes.

“Tag me out, Story,” he murmured, his voice thick with pain and fatigue. “I'm beat.”