Chapter Text
The first stop for the hunters was the house of Generosity. That meant Carousel Boutique. To describe the place would be rather pointless, as it's name did all the heavy lifting; it was a boutique, and it was styled to look like a carousel.
“How fancy,” Sterling commented. “Feels like the perfect place for a low-life neck biter to hide out.”
“Really think the pits of this pony, don't ya?” Hoofsing commented.
“There are standards, man!” Sterling shouted, before quickly putting a hoof up to his muzzle. “And speaking of standards; what on God's green Equestria is that stench?!”
Suddenly, the door to the boutique slammed open. “How dare you?!!” shouted a unicorn pony with a coat as white as snow, and a perfectly groomed and maintained mane the colour of amethyst. “Who are you to claim the aroma of my home is a 'stench'?!!”
“Miss Rarity, I presume,” Hoofsing said. “I am-”
Suddenly, Rarity's hoof was placed against his muzzle. “Not speaking to you yet, darling,” she said simply, still glaring at Sterling.
“Well, excuse me for having something of a sensitive nose, lady!” Sterling yelled back. “I've heard of eau de parfum, but this is closer to eau de tourbiere!”
Rarity gasped in shock and horror. “How dare you! Why, you wouldn't know good smell if it hit you on the flank!!”
Hoofsing let out a small sigh, as the two ponies continued to argue. All of a sudden, he felt a slight tug on his tail. Turning around, Hoofsing had to look down at the two fillies that had snuck up behind him. One looked remarkably similar to Rarity, with her white coat, and mane that was shades of purple and pink, while the other looked almost the spitting image of Applejack, with her light yellow coat, bright red main, and almost comically large bow. The looked understandably nervous.
“Mister, are you a vampire hunter?” the white filly asked.
Hoofsing allowed his expression to soften somewhat, as he lowered himself closer to the ground. “I am indeed,” he said gently. “My name is Van Hoofsing. And you two would be...?”
“I'm Sweetie Belle!” the white one replied. “Rarity's my big sister.”
“And I'm Apple Bloom!” the red-maned one followed up. “Applejack's my big sis! We're also two of the founding members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”
“Crusaders, you say?” Hoofsing asked in mild amusement. “Haven't seen actual Crusaders in years. And what sort of adventures do you partake in?”
“Mostly, is just us trying different things to find our Cutie Marks,” Apple Bloom answered. “It's been very much one miss after another.”
Hoofsing gave a slight chuckle. “Well, what's important is never giving up,” he said. Hoofsing turned his head back to Sterling and Rarity, who had continued to argue about smells he himself couldn't quite perceive, only now in French. “Didn't know that guy knew that language,” Hoofsing muttered to himself, before turning back to the fillies. “Since those two are going to be... at that for a while, perhaps you two could tell me something about the trouble going on around here?”
“Ya mean that no good neck-biter that gave Big Mac a once over?” Apple Bloom asked. “Nobody knows much o' anything, to be honest. Only that it mainly attacks anypony out in the open on the night of a new moon. It's happened... three times now?”
“Does that include the late Mr Breezy?” Hoofsing asked. “He seemed... too recently deceased, given that the next new moon night is in a few days.”
A nervous look washed over the two fillies' faces. “But, what could that mean?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“I'm not sure,” Hoofsing admitted. “It's still too early to say, but...”
The three paused in their conversation, noticing that Sterling and Rarity had finally stopped arguing. They looked over, to see Rarity trotting elegantly their way, and Sterling storming off in a fury.
“Well, I'll be,” Hoofsing said. “I don't think I've ever seen him lose an argument that badly.”
“Oh, I'd hardly call that an 'argument',” Rarity said. “Just a... civil disagreement.”
“I'd hardly call dipping into a whole other language 'civil', but you do you,” Hoofsing said. “Now, on to business; could you tell me anything about things that have happened over the past few nights?”
“I'm afraid not, darling,” Rarity said. “I've been ever so busy with my latest line of clothes in recent days, I haven't had the chance to so much as glance out the window. If you want info on latest 'happenings', then Rainbow Dash or Pinkie Pie would be your best options, but the former mostly keep to herself in Fluttershy's house.”
“Pinkie Pie was to be our next stop, anyway,” Hoofsing said. “Thank you for your time, miss Rarity.”
“Oh, not at all,” Rarity said. “But please, do try to hurry this work along, would you? Ponies are scared sick!”
“Of course,” Hoofsing said, before he noticed some bandages around Rarity's hind leg. “Might I ask what happened there?”
For a moment as brief as the flicker of a candle, panic washed over Rarity's face, before quickly being replaced by practised calm. “Oh, just a bad sprain, is all,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”
Hoofsing was sceptical, but put it aside for now. “Alright, then,” he said. “I'll be off. Remember to stay indoors as much as you can, and never invite anypony in that you can't prove is trustworthy.”
“Why's that?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Well, vampire weaknesses scale inversely to their strength,” Hoofsing answered. “I've met a vampire that can shrug off the sunlight, go for a swim in raging rapids, and eat entire cloves of garlic.” He shuddered at the memory of that last one. “But if there's one weakness those blood suckers can't shake, it's that to get into a place, they must be invited in by someone recognised as having authority.”
“Recognised as having authority?” Rarity repeated. “What in Equestria does that mean?”
“Think of it this way,” Hoofsing said. “If I were inside your boutique right now, and you, as the owner, viewed me as someone with higher authority than yourself, then I could potentially invite a vampire inside against your wishes.”
“I see,” Rarity mused. “And if I viewed you as someone who's opinion was worthless, even if you tried to, you couldn't invite one into my abode?”
“Exactly,” Hoofsing said. “So remember; only people you can trust are not a vampire, or in league with it.” With that, Van Hoofsing gave a bow. “As you were, ladies.”
By the time Hoofsing managed to catch up to Sterling, the two were already outside Sugarcube Corner, the biggest bakery in all of Ponyville. The best way there was to describe it was 'if a house were a cake'.
“What happened to you back there?” Hoofsing asked. “It's not like you to get so hot under the collar.”
“Honestly, Hoofie? I dunno,” Sterling admitted. “Something about that prima-donna just... set all my nerves on end.”
“Well, try to keep that in check for a while,” Hoofsing said. “We've got a veritable ball of sunshine to interrogate.”
“And here I thought you hated the 'interrogate' word,” Sterling chuckled.
“Only in public,” Hoofsing said, as he rapped his hoof on the door to the bakery. What followed immediately after was the resounding clattering of countless pieces of cutlery. A clattering that went on... and on... and on...
Hoofsing and Sterling quickly stepped aside, clearing the doorway as, all of a sudden, the door burst open with a veritable tidal wave of bowls, cutlery, and cake mix. There was a strange combination of shouts heard, as five ponies rode out on the wave. Two were new a pair of newborn twins, one a filly unicorn, the other a foal pegasus. Two were the earth ponies that Hoofsing recognised to be the owners of Sugarcube Corner; Mr and Mrs Cake. Finally, riding on top of all the chaos, enjoying this just as much as the twins, was the pink party pony they were looking for.
Sterling let out a low whistle. “I like the cut of this one,” he said simply.
“Just be careful where you sink your teeth,” Hoofsing muttered. “She looks like she'd give you diabetes.”
“And what a way to die that would be.”
Hoofsing allowed himself a small chuckle, before trotting over (in both senses of the word 'over', given the mountain of stuff) to the pink pony. “Pinkamena Diane Pie?” he asked. “I am Van Hoofsing, a hunter from Canterlot. This is my partner, Sterling. We'd like to ask you some-”
“Ooh! Full-namers!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, excited. “You must be here on suuuuper important business! What do ya need? Deets on the next party? Cakes for the next party? A PARTY?!”
Hoofsing blinked a few times in surprise, unuse to being cut off quite like... well, that. Sterling, however, found it utterly hilarious. “... We would like to ask you some questions,” Hoofsing said slowly. “About the vampire that's been haunting Ponyville for the past few months?”
“Oh, vampires don't 'haunt', silly!” Pinkie Pie said. “They stalk! Haunting's more a ghost thing.”
“She's got you there,” Sterling said between snickers.
Hoofsing felt his brow twitch in annoyance. “Fine. Whatever. Do you have anything you could tell us about the vampire or not?”
“Nope!”
Hoofsing stumbled on his hooves. “Seriously? Not a thing?”
“Nothing whatsoever!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Been too busy helping look after lil' Pound and Pumpkin Cake!”
Feeling his brow twitch, Hoofsing turned to the bakers. “And what of you two? Anypony acting... unusual? Refusing to enter your bakery without express verbal permission, things like that?”
“Nothin' of the sorts, I'm afraid,” Mr Cake answered. “Business has been a bit slow, but all our customers have been their usual selves.”
“Another dead end, then,” Hoofsing sighed. “Fair enough. Next stop, the pegasi two.”
“In that case, good sir, you're in luck,” Mrs Cake said. “Rainbow Dash has been staying over at Fluttershy's place ever since Cloudsdale closed itself off.”
“Silver lining, I see,” Sterling commented. “Many thanks, good bakers. Come along, Hoofsing. We've flighty fillies to accost for information.”
Hoofsing stared at Sterling like the pony in red had just grown another head. “Don't ever use that combination of words again.”
At Fluttershy's house, on the outskirts of Ponyville.
“Go to hell.”
Before the hunters stood a pegasus with a light blue coat and rainbow mane. The look of pure hostility on her face carried the force of industrial hammers.
“How friendly,” Hoofsing muttered. “Miss Rainbow Dash, we are only trying to-”
“Cram it and scram, muscles,” Rainbow Dash stated plainly. “We don't want anything to do with ponies like you.”
“So, you think you can handle the vampire all on your own, then?” Sterling asked. “And how's that going for you, might I ask?”
“Just fine, no thanks for asking,” she glared.
Hoofsing groaned in annoyance. “Fine. If you've nothing to share, then what about your friend?” he asked, looking at the yellow and pink pegasus that hid behind Rainbow Dash.
“Um...” the pegasus, Fluttershy, said nervously. “I, uh...”
“She's been with me since before that blood-sucking freak showed up, so how would she know anything I don't?” Rainbow Dash challenged. “Neither of us know anything, so go away already!”
“N-now, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy tried to say. “Let's be nice about this. They're only trying to help...”
“What's there to be nice about?!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “It's because of their boss that Equestria's-”
Hoofsing stormed up to Rainbow Dash, glaring into her eyes. “These threats have always existed in Equestria, girl,” he said darkly. “And my 'boss', as you so put it, is doing what she can to set things right again. Because she knows where she went wrong. And tell me, what's your plan for when you find this vampire?”
“Kick it's flank to kingdom come! What else?!”
Hoofsing gave a dry, unamused laugh. “You really think that'll keep it down?” he asked. “Why do you think hunters bring so many tools when slaying vampires? It's going to take more than a sonic rainboom powered kick to slay one of them. There's several steps to killing a vampire, kid, and your arrogance is liable to get you or one of your friends bit.”
Sterling stepped aside as Hoofsing and Rainbow Dash fell into a heated argument, and quietly sat himself down next to Fluttershy.
“He means well, you know,” he said, causing the pegasus to flinch. “Hoofsing, I mean. He's been at this job long enough to see what a cocky attitude gets you in the face of adversity.”
Fluttershy looked up at Sterling nervously. “And... what's that?”
“A pair of fangs around the jugular vein,” Sterling answered. “It's not a pretty sight.” Gently, Sterling lowered himself down to Fluttershy's eye level. “So, level with me, in the interest of keeping everypony safe; have you seen anything suspicious lately? Any odd visitors in the night?”
“N-no, sir,” Fluttershy muttered. “We haven't... had any visitors here lately. Rainbow Dash has been the only one of us to go into town lately, and she's not seen anything odd. Neither of us go out at night, either, so...”
“I see,” Sterling said, giving a gentle smile. “Thank you for your time, then. We'll get out of your mane now.” Sterling stood back up. “Hoofsing! We're good to go now!”
Hoofsing and Rainbow Dash finally stopped arguing, both ponies panting heavily. “You're... one stubborn mare,” Hoofsing said. “Just do your best not to let that fact get you killed.”
“Oh, please. Like some neck-biter's gonna get the drop on the fasted pony in Equestria!” Rainbow Dash stated proudly. Just then, she felt a tap on her left wing, but when she turned her head in that direction, there was nopony there.
Then, Sterling leaned in from her right side, and whispered “Boo” into her ear, causing her to jump several feet into the air. “Ah, the prideful ones are always the most fun to tease,” he laughed. “We'll be on our way now. Stay safe, fillies!”
Hoofsing and Rainbow Dash glared daggers at each other for a moment longer, before the stallion huffed and turned around.
“I swear, that pony can be so charming at times,” Sterling mumbled to himself. Nopony was sure if he was being sarcastic.
The sun was beginning to set by the time they made it to their final stop for the day. It had officially been a long day with little to show for it.
The two hunters stood outside the giant tree that was the Ponyville Library. “Well, I must say,” Sterling said, “this place certainly has the nicest feeling to it.”
“It's a tree,” Hoofsing pointed out. “Like, literally just a tree. You've seen the insides of castles.”
“Yes, but a tree!” Sterling emphasised. “A library in a tree! How cool is that?! Things made of trees, containing words, inside another tree!”
Hoofsing let out a sigh of resignation. “Oh brother. Here we go again.”
“Words are knowledge! Knowledge is power! Power is energy, is matter, is mass! A library-”
“Is a localised gravity spell that knows how to read, I know,” Hoofsing finished. “I swear, it was my fifth mistake to introduce you to Trotty Pratchett's work.” Striding forward, Hoofsing knocked on the door of the library. He did not, however, call out to the person that lived here.
A set of small footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door. The door swung open (inward, much to Hoofsing's relief), revealing a short, purple-scaled dragon, who looked at the two most unimpressed. “Let me guess,” the dragon said. “You're here to sell us snake oil?”
“That's still an expression these days?” Sterling muttered.
“... No,” Hoofsing answered bluntly. “We're the hunters from Canterlot. Here to deal with the vampire problem here? As I recall, your name is Spike, yes? Is Twilight Sparkle around?”
If looks could kill, then the stare that Spike the Dragon was giving Hoofsing right now would have been the equivalent of stepping on a cork-board pin... four times in a row. “No,” Spike said plainly. “We're not taking any visitors. Especially not from Canterlot these day.”
“My, what a warm reception,” Sterling said sarcastically. “For being the 'Heroes of Equestria', you wielders of Harmony certainly like making our job hard.”
“Bite me, red and white,” Spike responded. “All this happened because-”
“-Of our boss,” Hoofsing finished with a sigh. “Celestia's tail, it's like we haven't already had this conversation today. Look, kid... Actually, are you a kid?”
“In a cosmic sense, maybe,” Spike answered. “But you really think we're going to give people that work for her the time of day?”
“Well, then that just means you'll be dealing with giving the vampire the 'time of night', so to speak,” Sterling said. “It takes more than a few powerful spells to kill a creature of the night, and trust me; I would know.”
“We would know,” Hoofsing emphasised. “You're doing that thing again, where you act like the end-all expert.”
“Been around longer,” Sterling shrugged.
“Been on the job longer,” Hoofsing countered.
“Can't you two have your marital dispute elsewhere?” Spike asked. “For the last time, you ponies aren't welcome here.”
“And I suppose the contrarian vampire draining ponies around these parts is?” Sterling asked. “Whether you like our boss or not, short stuff, you need us right now.”
Spike opened his mouth to argue, but a new voice cut him off. “Let them in, Spike,” it said. The voice was... rough. Worn out and weary, like the speaker had been through Tartarus itself nine too many times.
“But...” Spike tried to argue, but stopped himself short. “Fine,” he sighed. “Come on in, you two. But, one wrong move, and you're out. Got it?”
“Thank you very much,” Hoofsing said in as genuine a tone as he could manage. It was one of those few things he respected unapologetically.
The inside of the library was dimly lit, save for maybe one or two candles on the table in the middle. The air was thick with the smell of ancient magics and dusty books that hadn't seen the light of day in years.
Sterling looked positively ecstatic about being here.
There was a second level to the library, and from the entrance, the two could see a pony sitting by a window, staring out at the setting sun. A bed sheet was draped over her frame, obscuring most, but not all, of her features. Even from their position, the two ponies could make out her light purple horn, frazzled strands of her predominately dark blue mane... and the two stumps on her back that looked like they had once been wings. Hers was a figure that seemed to radiate both pain and defeat.
Both Hoofsing and Sterling gave respectful bows to this mare. “Warm tidings upon this home,” Sterling recited formally.
“We thank you for this meeting, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Hoofsing said.
“There's no need for titles,” Twilight Sparkle said plainly. “I'm... hardly much of a princess anymore. Not since 'that day'.”
“Even so, you are one worthy of respect,” Hoofsing argued softly. “We come before you this evening is search of information, regarding the vampire that is haunting this fair village.”
Twilight turned her head and looked at the two through tired purple eyes. “I imagine you must be very desperate, if you've had to come to me for information.”
“Pardon my bluntness on the matter,” Sterling said, “but what little information we have gathered has been... annoyingly contradictory with itself. When we could actually get any, at least.”
“All we ask, my lady,” Hoofsing said, “is that you tell us if you've seen or heard anything at all over the past few moons, ever since the vampire first appeared in your stable.”
Twilight gave a sorrowfully appraising look, before turning her head back to the window. “... It's been nearly every night now,” she said. “The attacks. At first, it was only ever on the nights of the new moon, but every few weeks, the screams would become more and more frequent. Ponies are scared to go outside, to trust one another now.”
That... served to be more insightful than anything before it. “We thank you, princess,” Hoofsing said, “for your time and words.”
There was a slight twitch to Twilight's form, as if she were trying to stretch the wings she no longer possessed. “A question for you both, before you go,” she said. “How is... she doing?” There was a most odd inflection on how Twilight had said the word 'she'. There had been hesitation and the slightest bit of hostility, but also a strange warmth; sympathy mixed genuine worry.
Hoofsing smiled softly, though he kept that hidden. The Princess of Friendship was still hoping to see the best. “She's doing her best,” he said simply, “to make up for all the wrongs wrought.”
A sense of relief could be felt coming from Twilight Sparkle. “I see,” she said. “Thank you.”
“As you were, your highness,” Hoofsing bowed once more, before raising himself back up. “Sterling, let us be off.”
“Of course,” Sterling said politely, before looking back at Twilight. “Thank you for you time, princess. May the future be kind to you and your friends.”
The two ponies saw themselves out, followed briefly by Spike. “You guys can be polite, huh?” the dragon asked.
“There are times and places for sarcasm, dry wit, and mockery,” Sterling pointed out. “In the face of a princess who's been through as much as her is not one of those places.”
Night had officially fallen, and the hunters had gotten their rooms at the local inn. As it would so happen, the only other guest here was their good friend Trixie, who had just finished a show to a whopping crowd of six. Three of that crowd were birds looking for a place to rest.
So clearly, it was standing room only.
A chess board sat between Hoofsing and Trixie, with the former on black and the later on white. Each move was quickly followed by the next, yet after every fifth move, the board looked as if it had advanced fifty.
“Pawn to e4,” Trixie said. “Checkmate.”
Hoofsing stared at the board, knowing that there was no way that pawn could have put him in check... until he saw that, at some point, Trixie's rook and queen had cornered his king. “... One of these days,” he muttered, “I'll learn better than to challenge you to Cheaters Chess.”
“You're getting better at sleight of hoof, for what it's worth,” Trixie reassured. “But you're still no match for the Great and Powerful Trixie!”
“Honestly, I think you should just stop challenging stage magicians and unicorns at this game,” Sterling pointed out. “You can't out-cheat real magic as an earth pony.”
“Mark my words,” Hoofsing said dangerously. “One of these moons, I'll manage to pull the wool over even an alicorn's eyes.”
“Good luck with that,” Trixie laughed. “Now, don't you boys have information to sift through?”
“She's right,” Sterling agreed. “So, Hoofsing, what we got?”
“A mixed kettle, unfortunately,” Hoofsing admitted. “But, not a terrible load. What we do know right now is that somepony out there wasn't entirely truthful.”
“So, there's a liar out there?” Trixie asked.
“No, not quite,” Sterling said. “More that out of everypony we spoke to, a vast majority had no information to offer. The holders of the Elements of Harmony, sans Twilight Sparkle, as well as those two Crusaders, believed that the vampire only ever struck on the night of the new moon. Information we got from the mayor, but contradicted by the corpse we passed on the way here, and by Twilight Sparkle herself, who testifies that, after the first incident three months ago, screams have only become more common.”
“Meaning somepony's lied to you?” Trixie asked again. “You still haven't cleared that part up.”
“It either means that, of that the vampire's made everypony think there's a routine,” Hoofsing said. “One thing I can't help but notice is the lack of 'others'. No mention of vampiric offspring, no thought of ghouls, nothing of the sort.”
“Isn't that just a lack of knowledge?” Trixie said. “Not many ponies knew that vampires were real before three years ago.”
“No, but vampires in fiction were,” Sterling stated. “Everypony knows all about vampires thanks to some novels. They know how vampires breed, how to drive them off with things like garlic or other strong smells, that they can't enter a building unless somepony that is recognised as having authority over it invites them in, and they all know that there's a multi step plan in order to kill a vampire.”
“And are these ponies aware of the differences between the ancient vampires and the ones you're dealing with today?” Trixie asked.
“To them, the differences is the same between the various kinds of sparrows,” Hoofsing said. “And for now, it's best to keep it that way. Equestria mightn't be ready to know about the ancient nosferatu.”
“Oh, the good old day,” Sterling sighed.
“So, what's your plan now?” Trixie asked.
“The good old fashioned 'hoof it',” Hoofsing answered. “Patrols, stakeouts, catch-em-in-the-acts, that sort of thing.”
“Really makes you wonder why we went around asking ponies for information, then,” Sterling muttered.
“It's formal and polite,” Hoofsing pointed out. “Let the locals know that we are, above all else, polite and friendly.”
“Wasn't our policy 'be police, efficient, and have a plan to kill everypony we meet'?” Sterling asked. This comment caused the pony working the reception desk to look very concerned.
“Ignore him, please,” Hoofsing called out. “He's an idiot.” He levelled a flat glare at Sterling. “What have I told you about choosing your words? Ten years, and we still have to go over this.”
“Old habits die hard,” Sterling said, “and I die very, very hard.”
Trixie gagged at the statement. “I swear, if I didn't know you two any better,” she muttered.
Then, a scream was heard from outside. Young, no doubt belonging to some foal that shouldn't be out at this hour.
Hoofsing and Sterling quickly dashed out the door, with Trixie not far behind because, despite her insistence of 'looking out for mainly herself', she had a heart of gold deep down. Whether that was actually fool's gold or not remained to be seen.
The inn's door slammed open, nearly falling off its hinges. Out in the dark of the streets, a pegasus filly with an orange coat and purple mane was dashing through on a scooter at high speed, being chased by an equally fast, yet highly uncoordinated pony who's limbs looked far, far too thin to support even half its own weight.
Hoofsing reached down, grabbing his cross in his teeth, and giving it a mighty swing, launching the whip end out. The metal tip of the whip flew fast, striking one of the thin pony's forelegs with so much force that the leg came clean off, causing them to stumble.
In a flash of movement too fast for anypony to perceive, Sterling had appeared between the pony and the filly, having moved so fast that his hat was left behind, causing his long, jet black mane to billow dramatically in the wind.
Sterling's horn shone red, as a simple, steel coloured crossbow like weapon floated out from beneath his jacket. It was a strange weapon, given that as far as crossbows went, it looked practically incomplete, as it lacked all the parts that made up the 'bow' segment. Instead, at what would charitably be called the 'business end' of it sat a small magical gemstone that shone in crimson light.
Streling aimed the weapon low, firing off three small magic bolts that took out the pony's other legs, causing it to fall to the ground, hissing violently as it tried to crawl forward.
“Ghoul,” Sterling said bitterly, as if the word itself was an affront to nature. “Not even a particularly good one, too. Twice, maybe even thrice, removed byproduct.”
“So, little more than a flesh-eating bag of bones,” Hoofsing surmised, as he retraced the whip, and from the other end of the cross, produced a wooden stake. “Not even enough of them left to identify, too. Cutie Mark is... not identifiable in this state.” The hunter shook his head, dejected. “Damn shame. Won't know who's partner, parent, or child this once was.”
Such things were, regrettably, common in this line of work. Once a pony has become a ghoul, something about the magic that makes up the Cutie Mark rejects them violently, practically exploding off the pony's body. It didn't happen to vampires, werewolves, or any other creature of the night; just ghouls. On one hoof, it made it easy to know whether someone was a ghoul or not. On the other, though, a ghoul left alone for even a few days becomes nearly unrecognisable. Just another violent, shambling corpse.
“Sterling,” Hoofsing said. “Look after the filly. I'll clean this up.”
Sterling nodded, returning his magic crossbow to its hiding place as he carefully trotted toward the filly and knelt down beside her. “Hey there, little one,” he said gently. “Think you could tell me your name?”
The filly looked up at Sterling with fear in her purple eyes. Realising that his shades were probably not helping him look friendly, Sterling used a little magic to remove them, revealing soft red eyes with the most curious of pupils.
Sterling managed a warm smile. “My name is Sterling,” he introduced himself. “My friend and I are here to help.” There was a sudden silence, as Hoofsing plunged the stake into the heart of the ghoul. Sterling made sure to position himself in such a way that the filly didn't see it.
“S-Scootaloo,” the filly said. “My name... is Scootaloo.”
“Scootaloo. A fine name indeed,” Sterling said. “Tell me, what are you doing out at this hour? It's hardly safe.”
“I... I wanted to see my friends, Sweetie Bell and Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said. “I haven't been able to see them in weeks. I know it was stupid of me, but...”
Sterling grabbed his hat using magic, and placed it on Scootaloo's head. “As long as you remember that fact, there is nothing more for me to say,” he said. “Your friends are safe with miss Rarity, I promise you.” Quietly, he added to himself “Whether their sense of smell will survive another day in that place, though, is another question entirely.”
Behind him, there was a faint, silverly glow of light. Sterling and Scootaloo turned their heads, to see the body of the ghoul now wreathed in white flames.
Trixie quietly walked up to their side, watching the flames. “Been a while since I've seen one of these at work,” she commented flatly.
“What is that?” Scootaloo asked.
“The purifying effects of Holy Water,” Sterling said. At some point, he had put his orange shades back on, but from Scootaloo's angle, she could see that he was still having to squint to look at those flames. “I'll tell you this now, young one; this isn't something that'll bring this pony back to life. This is merely the final Hail Mary to save their immortal soul.”
“What does that mean?” Scootaloo asked.
“It means this pony gets to die as themselves,” Trixie answered. “Not as a monster. And, if there is something after... all this life, then at least their soul will be who they were before.”
Scootaloo looked at the body of the unidentifiable pony as it burned. For a moment, the filly could swear that its expression had turned soft and peaceful. “Is there... anything after this?” she asked. “Is there a Heaven?”
“Dunno,” Sterling said gently. “Anypony who's been hasn't come back to tell us one way or the other. Hell, we don't even know if this does any of the things I said it does for certain. But... it gives ponies peace of mind, believing that it does.”
Eventually, the fires died down, leaving little more than a pile of ash to be picked up by the night breeze. Hoofsing turned around, his expression dark and unreadable. “Sterling,” he said simply. “Looks as though we're doing this the old fashioned way.”
“The 'hoof it' approach, then?” Sterling asked. “Good. I hate these new-blood neck-biters that don't take responsibility for their meals.” He gently lifted Scootaloo up with magic, and passed her to Trixie. “Stay with the Great and Powerful Trixie, kid, and keep my hat safe. The stallions are gonna rock this town 'til it's black and red.” With a stride of determination, Sterling trotted up to Hoofsing's side.
“Your magic sling still good to go?” Hoofsing asked.
Sterling levitated his magic-based crossbow out of it holding spot once more. “Naturally, my friend,” he smirked. “I really must say, magitec has come a long way in the years we've had. I mean, a magic powered crossbow that's neither cross nor bow? If you'd told me moons ago such a thing would exist, I'd have called you a mad horse.”
“Then be sure to thank her majesty once we're done,” Hoofsing said. “That thing was mostly her idea.” The hunter fixed his glare to the thin sliver of moon that hung in the sky. “We've only a few short nights until this vampire 'supposedly' attacks themselves. We'll split up, cover all the ground we can, and catch this monster before they can hurt anypony else.”
“So, a race to find the culprit, then?” Sterling asked. “I do so love it when you make this a challenge.”
“Just don't lose your head,” Hoofsing warned. “You have a bad habit of that. Last thing we need is another Our Town incident.”
“Are you still on about that?” Sterling said. “It was three years ago! AND we came out of that mission with some net positives! Why do you still remember that?”
“Need I remind you that you got yourself skewered by icicles chasing the perpetrator?” Hoofsing pointed out. “Or any of the other dozen mess-ups during that job? And the only reason I recall it so vividly is because it was literally the last thing we did before Equestria went to Hell in a hoofbasket.”
“Fine, fine,” Sterling sighed. “Professionals are so exhausting.”
“I'll cover everything from Sweet Apple Acres to the centre of town,” Hoofsing instructed. “You take everything from the other side.”
“Sounds like a plan, then,” Sterling said. “Race ya to the neck-biter!”
In response, Hoofsing smirked. “You're on.”