Creepypasta Collection Book 3

A Beloved's Curse

Hey... hey there... it's alright, no need to freak out. There you are. See? That wasn't too bad, was it? Heh, ponies tend to hype up the transition all the time as this big terrifying process, and really, it's more like... well that. Don't worry, that strange air-y feeling will go away in a second. Aaaand there we go.

I see that look on your face. You don't know me, and well, you're not really supposed to. I'll just get that out right off the bat. It's always the same question, really. "Where am I?" "Who are you?" "What was up with miss masky-pants and all her evil rage?" Well, I'm stopping this one before it happens and answering all of the questions so you don't have to pester, okay?

My name is... well, my name doesn't really matter since no pony can remember it. I'm just going to come right out and say it, I'm the pony she referred to as 'Beloved'. Now, that's not my ACTUAL name, but I think it's more like a nice term. It's better than my real name anyway.

Oh, did I not tell you? You're supposed to follow me silly. Come on, I know the way. I've only walked it a million times, what's one more? And don't worry, I don't bite... I'm just that sort of... in-between guide I guess you could say. Things in the afterlife have to be all complicated, you can't just go to one place or the other, you have to journey there... strange, but true. One of the ponies who passed through here called it purgatory once, I like saying that word. Purgatory. Sounds kinda neat.

Anyway, so yeah, I'm not an angel. Though I did pretend to be one a couple of times, even tried the whole 'thy' 'thee' 'thou' thing... it kinda blew up in my face when I accidentally let a not-so-angelic-word out... oh well.

So by this point you're thinking: "Welp, I'm dead. And I'm following Curse Word's dead lover to wherever I'm supposed to go. This totally isn't weird at all." Since we have nothing but time up here I guess it would probably be a good idea if I... fill in the gaps? Some ponies like to hear the whole story... They've said it makes their death more fulfilled I guess; like they're the only ones in on this big magical secret about where Curse Word's lover is and they know things she doesn't. Kinda takes the sting outta dying a little, don't you think?

So, once upon a time, a cute little filly was born and a bunch of stuff happened, the end!

Riveting, right? Alright, alright, I'll tell you the real story, I just like to see pony's faces after I hype it up and then give them that. I came from... you know what? It doesn't matter where I came from. None of those other events, (pause) moments compared to when I met Curse Word. It is probably the first and only really truly best moment in the past of any consequence.

I ended up in that little town, homeless. Don't ask me why, and don't give me pity, I wasn't some kind of beggar pony. I just didn't have a literal home. I was... a wanderer. This was the first place I felt... safe. That little town had some real potential to be a home if I could manage to get work here. I searched all over for some kind job, but as usual, I found myself gravitating towards bookstores and libraries... oh, didn't you see my cutie mark? Yeah, I guess I was something of a writer. Doubt you'd know many of my stories.

Eventually I found the library and met the paradox of a pony that was the librarian. She never had a kind word to say to me, nor did a kind deed outside of hiring me that day. Not even sure why she did it, though I suspect she had some kind of intern that couldn't take her attitude and left in a huff before I showed up. Either way, she was a real pain, but I was happy enough just to have somewhere to belong.

Then I saw her.

I know, I know. That sounds really cliche, but you're dead and I'm cursed if that's not cliche I don't know what is.

She was just... so different from other ponies I'd seen. I had some... difficulties trusting ponies those days, but I felt myself gravitating towards this story-teller. I wish you could have seen the way those foals' eyes lit up as she brought to life the stories she wove. It was like witnessing miniature fairy tales coming true right there in the comfort of the library. If I wasn't in love with this town before, I certainly was then.