This here's a Ghost Town (EEU)

"Hmm.. True. I wonder if anypony ever became a ghost after passing away..." A very soft voice said very close to Smith's ear. Fantasy was different, apparently. he didn't know much of passing away, or the afterlife in general. Fantasy thought on how he was a bit of unusual case. but to be fair, he didn't really mind, since he kinda... became a ghost via different means.

"I'm glad you're not scared of me." Fantasy quite simply said. thinking about what he had said of old age. Obviously, it wasn't true, after all Fantasy was doing magical tricks which Wesson couldn't have done himself. Fantasy listened and heard the creaking, although only very vaguely, his magic hearing wasn't very sharp at the moment, and focused near Wesson's head. The only magic he was using was that hearing, and creating a little light for Wesson. Fantasy was rather silent on his own. probably needed it to properly relax, and whatnot. The cave did indeed get somewhat scarier, and Wesson needed to start paying more attention to all directions, since there were little tunnels everywhere now, and those unpleasant lamia people definitely could sneak up on him here....

""

Wesson's skin crawled as the soft whisper entered his ear. His jerked around to see the unicorn but of course the space beside him was empty. He couldn't help feel a little perturbed by the action. Not to mention the way Fantasy phrased his response implied he wasn't a ghost. The gunslinger was hard pressed to think of a more suitable term for his companion. Maybe he'd just used the wrong term. Spirit? Apparition? Phantom? Whatever he was, at least he was helpful and on the right side.

Fantasy's next statement surprised Wesson. "I thought ya wanted to scare folks off?" he questioned, before digressing "In any case, I was shocked. T'aint exactly normal, ya must admit. But I've dealt with all kinds of strange in my day."

Following the path Fantasy's light was revealing to him, the earth pony came to stop when he heard slithering in the adjacent tunnel. Refusing to step closer, he peered around the corner but couldn't see anything in the darkness. Wesson pulled back to whisper.

"Got any idea how many of them there are?"

"protect. Not scare. Metaphorical wall between them and lamias." he said, keeping his sentences short and sweet. His 'excuse' was that it saved energy, but truely, he just felt that that should explain enough. In response to the closeby noise, Wesson stopped and asked a question. He didn't hear wesson perfectly, but was able to hear enough words to figure out just about what he was asking.

"10-ish..." there was a moment of thought before fantasy continued, just barely too short for wesson to say something himself. "never got a chance to count em. Could be wrong." Fantasy said. He was thinking himself, since that was one thing he could do without it expending any energy, he had tried to look around the lamia tunnels once before, but something steered him away, preferring to prevent foals from entering over trying to solve the problem alone. He realized that wesson hadn't decided to ask fantasy much about his motivations or why he didn't try clearing this place out sooner. Then again, he had said my little way of helping equestria earlier, and it -was- the truth. In the mix of his thinking and lack of senses, he didn't realize that Wesson was about to start fighting the next pair of lamias.

Wesson got an eerie feeling - and this time it wasn't because of the not-ghost - about hearing Fantasy's reason for being here. To protect others, either physically or metaphorically, was uncomfortably similar to Wesson himself in his younger days. Traveling with his friends, they stood together to help good people. Even their presence was enough to make others think twice. But that was along time ago. Before things changed.

The time to dwell on those thoughts quickly passed. Wesson sunk back into the moment, concentrating only on the here and now. Ten lamia seemed quite high so he hoped for less. Thinking on the spot, he prepared his revolver by ensuring it was reloaded and the rest of his ammunition was ready. With a hoof, he removed his stetson to reveal his greying mane.

"On my mark, I'mma distract them," Wesson whispered his plan, not exactly sure where to direct his voice since Fantasy wasn't anywhere in sight, "Ya reckon ya can cast your light in there so I can see 'em?"

He knew the request would likely strain Fantasy abilities but the element of surprise was still on their side and they needed to take it.

"Allow me a moment to 'open' my eyes." Fantasy cast a sight spell, once more seeing the surroundings. He looked to where Wesson was pointing. He had gotten quite a bit of rest from all this minimalism, so he probably had restored more than he realized himself. it was hard estimating how much magic he had remaining sometimes.

"How bright?" He simply asked, already focusing on the spot where the light would appear. he started looking around for lamias himself, sensing there was something of movement around here. he looked behind Wesson aswell. didn't see much... yet. He waited for Wesson's command to continued. Felt good to have someone to depend on and make up for your shortcomings.

Wesson waited patiently in the dull light as Fantasy prepared himself for the task. The earth pony had to admit, he was having a hard time picturing how the supposed unicorn 'worked.' Just as Fantasy had pointed out, he wasn't scared of him, more so curious. He'd reserve his questions for after they'd dealt with this threat.

"Enough so I can see the room clearly," he answered, holding his hat in a slung position in hoof.

After a few calming breaths to prepare his body, Wesson suddenly leant around the corner and flung his hat like a frisbee. The stetson flew across the ground, skimming across the sandstone. Wesson made out signs of movement as the lamia in the room were instantly attracted to the sound and vibrations of the distraction. They tracked the object, sliding towards it as the hat eventually glided to a halt.

Wesson was pleased to make out that they seemed to have moved over to the far side of the cave. A perfect distance for his targets. He raised his revolver as he hissed loudly.

"Now!"

Fantasy Flicker just watched as Wesson shot, lighting the room, but barely seeing the lamias cause they were outside of his sight spell's range. although, he'd still notice one slipping away. Fantasy sharpened his senses to their direct surroundings. These things moved surprisingly silently and without much resistance, so they didn't cause the ground to move any either. they were subtle, that was sure. Fantasy was providing the light necessary for both the earth pony and himself to see.

Surely enough, the lamia who'd manage to survive Wesson's pistol barrage managed to slip through the many tunnels and systems here, suddenly appearing from Wesson's right! Before she got far, she found a faceful of pebbles suddenly slung towards her. The barrage did not do much to her consciousness, but she had to give up her attack on Wesson. Fantasy noticed Wesson had started reloading, so the ghost kept his guard up, pebbles all around Wesson floating, ready to spring to his defense, although offense would fall upon the earth pony's own hooves, it seems.

Wesson was firing less than a second after Fantasy cast his light into the cavern. Several lurking lamia spun and reeled at the shocking change in brightness as the earth pony lined his shots up. He fired one shot after the other, aiming two at the head of each target. Distracted, in their dazed and confused state, and at a good distance, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Three beasts fell in his first barrage. As Wesson went to reload, he noticed one enemy slither away into a tunnel and disappear from sight. Calmly, the stallion pulled new rounds from his waistcoat as he dispensed the empty shells from his gun. The movement of reloading was clean and precise, the motion of a pony who'd done this many times before.

As the cylinder locked back into place, a lamia sprung at Wesson from the side. Without having to move, the creature was batted away by Fantasy's defensive barrier of stones. Wesson was once again glad that he had back up. With the assistance, he was able to cleanly take aim and put the struggling lamia down. He turned his weapon back to face the cavern and took out the last lamia with a quick double tap.

"Still got it," mused Wesson quietly, recounting his ammunition as he reloaded again, "How many more of these things ya reckon we got? Don't fancy going too much further down..."

Fantasy was slow to respond, thinking carefully and looking around. The light even moved a bit, away from Wesson. "Some... 'chilly' feeling in me tells me there's atleast one more. Not much. But at least one. You feel it too? There's something ominous in the air here. Might be something my magic's seeing, though." he said. There was a tinge of worry in his voice. His magic was not unlike that of a unicorn and his ability to perceive magic in the surroundings stemmed from him mbeing a purely magical essence, although he was never sure if it was that sense or a hunch anymore. T'was hard not having a body to discern these things.

If one of these lamia was truely casting magical spells, with perhaps potions or whatnot, fantasy had to be careful and double up his game. After all, not only was he very vulnerable to magic himself, but he had to protect Wesson against it, whatnot with wesson just being a really impressive earth pony with a gun, and no magical duelist.

The light returned, close to wesson, once more as a guiding light in the way. The invisible magical essence did too, but wesson couldn't see that. Fantasy wondered if he should go blind again, but decided against it. "These things are silent. I'm gonna go deaf for a bit instead of blind. Just scrunch up your nose real good if you want me to activate my hearing again. I think i'd be better off seeing near you for now." he said. Although, he still did reduce his sight to only seeing 3 large strides away from Wesson. He wasn't sure how much more relaxing he needed, but he was even less sure of how strong a lamia witchdoctor or sorceress could be. He'd rather not take chances.

Wesson found himself agreeing with Fantasy as he slowly nodded. The thought of one more lamia lurking in the darkness was lingering in the back of Wesson's mind as well. He couldn't shake the thought away, and was becoming more and more certain of it.

He nodded again, this time in response to Fantasy's warning. However, no sooner had the unicorn gone deaf that Wesson heard a faint buzzing. In fact, it was more like a rattle. The earth pony attempted to move but found himself locked in place. What was this? He was petrified solid, like the victim of a cockatrice. Then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the final lamia.

This one looked different, with a red tint to its scales and a bulbous growth on its tail that shook to imitate the rattling sound. No matter how hard Wesson fought, he couldn't bring himself to move. He eyes locked with the creatures, the serpentine yellow staring menacingly at him. Then the creature pounced.

The rattling ceased as the lamia left the ground, giving Wesson half a second to react. The pony managed to rear up onto his back hooves and bring his gun to bare, only to be knocked back by the beast. His revolver went flying as the stallion as hurled to the ground. He grunted in pain as his back hit the hard ground. His hooves held the lamia's head at bay, as the creature tried to violently bite down towards him.

For some reason, Fantasy found himself unable to protect his companion from the attack of the 'Rattle-Lamia' he watched as smith was attacked, and directly activated his ears. "I can't do anything!" Fantasy yelled out! it was horrible, he -wanted- to do something, but he just wasn't capable of doing his magic. A second Lamia arose from nearby, a much more vile green one, with a strange headdress upon her head. She hisses towards the two fellows and throws some potion of a sorts! Fantasy Flicker barely manages to block the strange fluids with a rock, which is odd, since the fluids weren't going to hit Wesson anyway... Unless... Fantasy himself was scared of these fluids.

The witchdoctor lamia did her strange dancing, which obviously had some magical effect of sorts. "Greenie is messing with my magic..." he said, trying to get over their incessant hissing and the strange sound of the rattle-lamia. It was obvious that Wesson made little chance against his red foe and Fantasy could not stand to fight against the green witch lamia. They were going to need to help each other and solve each other's issues. But -how- were they going to do it while they were both forced to fight off against their counters?

Fantasy knew he had to sharpen his senses so he got himself more to earth with another illusion, but this time, the illusion was far different than the unicorn he had seen at first. This one was far more befitting of a ghost, and carried a more ghostly visage, with wispy energies creating his hindlegs and small strand-like strings coming off from his body. Fantasy started thinking on how to solve this scenario...

While fighting against the savage attacks of the lamia, Wesson winced as biting fangs came dangerously close to him. He'd had nasty snake bites before so he couldn't imagine these being any nicer. It didn't seem like Fantasy could help him, and the older stallion couldn't find the strength to simply push the monster off of him.

Then Wesson spotted something else in the heat of the moment. Another lamia, green and equally viscous looking, was attacking someone. A physical manifestation of Fantasy Flicker. This was much more like the ghostly figure he imagined he would appear as; a transparent, floating figure only half pony, half wispy energy. It seemed they were both in trouble now.

Wesson reached out with a leg to grab his fallen firearm. The edge of his hoof scrapped against the ground but couldn't make the distance between him and his weapon. Unsure of what Fantasy could do against his attacker, and pinned by his, Wesson knew they'd have to solve this problem fast if either of them were going to make it.

"Gun!" he rasped under the pressure of the lamia against his throat, his hoof still reaching for the revolver.

Fantasy did his best to not get hit by any magic, although it was hard to control himself in his current circumstances! He dodged another strange potion and noticed wesson's situation. He saw a chance to turn this battle around, but would need perfect teamwork to get it done! "Think fast!" He yelled out towards Wesson, using his best magic to fling the revolver towards Wesson! Accompanying the flying revolver was a large volley of rocks heading towards the back of the 'rattle-lamia'! Some of them fell down as the witchdoctor continued her wicked dance. It weakened Fantasy's magic.

Alas, despite Fantasy's efforts, the witchdoctor soon came closer, wicked magic running over her hands as she approached his image, likely capable of harming the ghost! Fantasy could only pray a bullet would meet the witchdoctor before she met him and the two could switch opponents!

It seemed Fantasy was on the same page as him. The unicorn seemed to understand his plea and acted as planned. The revolver was gripped in his magic hold and flung towards Wesson while thrown rocks distracted the rattlelamia. The stallion may have been half buried under a panicking snake monster, losing his breathe while grasping for his gun that had been thrown towards him, but it was all he needed.

With practiced ease, Wesson grappled the gun in midair and brought it to bare against the green lamia. He twisted his head to the side, his green eyes aligning perfectly down the iron sights of the weapon. He fired a single shot. The round cleared past Fantasy and struck his green scaled attacker between the eyes with deadly precision.

Unfortunately, the attack meant Wesson left himself more exposed than anticipated. Now recovered from the barrage of rocks, the rattlelamia pounced at the earth pony. Reflexively, he raised a hoof to protect himself, stopping the creature in its attack to his neck. However, fangs sunk deeply into his leg. Wesson let out an agonised yell as he fought the creature from doing any further damage.

Fantasy watched in slight anticipation as he took a hit himself, a magical claw swiping away at his essence, causing it to fizzle and spark in all kinds of directions, before the light in the tunnel became more dim! It was obvious that Fantasy's Magic was failing him and rendering him weaker. He had to pull through though, this wasn't over yet. The gunshot freed Fantasy, even if only for a moment. And while the rattlelamia was quick to assault Wesson once more, and Fantasy could not prevent the hit, his telekinesis lifted the lamia itself before slamming her against the wall. The ghostly body moved towards the Rattlelamia, picking up stones and such in his path with telekinesis, to fight her with.

however, hot on Fantasy's ghostly heels was the Witchdoctor, which despites the first bullet shot was still well and standing, ready to throw another brew at Fantasy or charge him personally with her magic. Fantasy prayed that Wesson could still use his gun to take down the Witchdoctor, now that the ghost had gotten rid of the horrid red snake.

Wesson felt a wave a relief as the rattlelamia was pulled away from him by Fantasy's magic. Once again, his magical acquaintance was proving himself to be a worthy ally. Freed of the pain, Wesson pulled himself into a sitting position. He surveyed the attackers for a moment.

It seemed Fantasy had gotten the attention of both lamia now. The rattlelamia was some distance away, while the green lamia was looking worse for wear but still putting up a fight. It slithered towards Fantasy with alarming speed and deadly intent to do more damage to the ghost-like pony.

Wesson jumped to his hooves and leapt over to a collection of stones. The stallion pivoted on the spot as he performed a strong hard buck behind him. His teeth gritted as weight was applied to his bitten leg but he sucked up the pain and pushed on. His hind legs connected with a large boulder, which sent it crashing towards the witchdoctor. The green lamia was fast but was caught off guard. The rolling rock crushed its tail, bringing the creature to an abrupt halt and pinning it out of harms way.

One down, one more to go.

The other one would definitly fall to Fantasy's abilities, as he was now unhindered and furious at the same time, the Rattlelamia was met by a force it could not attack in return, it's hits barely doing anything to Fantasy's magical structure. A malicious glow came from Fantasy himself, as he pelted rocks against the rattlelamia. It was not with the same strength that Wesson could do it, but the advantage with levitation was that anything that was light enough, was hardly any effort to levitate. Every rock, pebble and grain of sand which was no larger than a fist found itself pelting the Rattlelamia, and even though the red lamia was far tougher, the repeated assault that plummeted her against the wall was a tough attack to resist. The physical Lamia could do little as even when she did escape, magic simply forced her back into the wall and slowly increased the pile of rocks that entombed her.

It was not long before the Rattlelamia could no longer escape either, pinned between a small tomb of many rocks and sand and the wall, batted and rammed unpleasantly, slung around by unicorn-like magic as if she was just a toy. Fantasy kept pushing on the stones onto the rattlelamia. He continued to flatten her until she was at the very least completely unconcious, perhaps even continuing onwards. Even if Wesson tried to make Fantasy regain his senses or realize what he was doing, the ghost continued. he had made himself near-deaf and near-blind to his surroundings, all his magical strength going into his levitation magic which enabled him to defeat the red lamia, albeit perhaps somewhat cruelly.

Wesson watched the witchdoctor lamia for a moment while it furiously bobbed and slithered in a na attempt to free itself. Alas, it was well and truly stuck in place by its rocky prison. Satisfied, he turned to see how to assist Fantasy, already reloading his revolver. The stallion stopped in place at the sight in front of him.

His new spectre of a friend was currently assaulting the green lamia with an avalanche of rocks. The monster squirmed and writhed under a growing pile of stones that cascaded towards it. If it wasn't a horrible, snake-like beast, Wesson would almost feel sorry for it. The sight was a little gruesome, even for the veteran of the badlands.

"Hey, knock it off!" Wesson shouted, but to little avail as Fantasy continued his attack. "I said, knock it off!"

Still without any response, Wesson rolled his eyes before aiming his revolver and firing a few shots towards Fantasy. His bullets passed through the apparition in a rather rash attempt to get his attention and stop the rocky assault.

Once the Lamia was properly unconcious, the ghostly body seemed to relax, the hoof with magical 'claws' slowly going down. however the whole body seemed to randomly fade here and there, sometimes letting off a fizzy spark. it looked like the magic that came off of a tired unicorn or one trying too hard, with little control of their magic. "Well... That was... odd." The ghastly voice said, fizzing out and cracking up randomly. Fantasy obviously wasn't at his best.

"it's been a... long, long time since i've been restricted in my movement and magic. it seems i got very irritated at that." the voice said, still sounding weak and crackling, but in a 'matter-of-fact' way. The ghostly body looked at it's own hands. "Even with hazy sights i can see something ain't right with me. I need rest. I need out of here." he said. the ghost moved it's head, no mouth, no eyes slowly towards Wesson. then, magical essence swirled, creating eyes and a long horn of a blue-wispy essence. Fantasy assumed that Wesson wanted to get away all the same.

Wesson panted, regaining his breath and general composure after the battle. Right now, adrenaline was surging through his bloodstream and making him adverse to the aches and pains of his body. Give it time, and he knew he'd be feeling it all later. The stallion casually sauntered over to his fallen stetson to don the hat once more.

"It's been a long time since I've done anything like that either," Wesson commented, though on reflection he wasn't sure if his point made much sense. His mind was a little hazy, likely from the fight, "Thanks for the help partner."

Checking his revolver, Wesson reloaded it while casting a glance at the trapped lamia. The green monster was still struggling against the boulder pinning its tail down, but had become more quiet in its efforts. Perhaps it was beginning to realise the futility of its actions. He considered killing it but there was no point in wasting anymore time and bullets here. They were done. He holstered his gun, rubbing his foreleg as he did it to dull an aching, burning feeling. Adrenaline must already be wearing off.

"Yeah. I reckon we should get outta here before-" Wesson stopped abruptly when he stumbled in his step. His left foreleg simply didn't take his full weight. Confused, the earth pony inspected the limb and the bite marks on it. To his surprise, the limb looked pale and had grown inflamed. Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over him, causing Wesson to fall back onto his haunches.

"Ah shoot. This ain't good..."

Fantasy looked down, noticing what was happening. "Oh my. that looks horrid." he said, looking at the leg which was in bad condition. He thought deeply, the two need a solution for this problem. "I can try and ease the strain on the leg and slow the infection... You think that would help?" Fantasy carefully looked and floated some rocks to Wesson's leg. He floated them around the start of his leg. He pushed them carefully around the leg, trying to cut off the blood flow to the bite. He also floated some rocks directly under Wesson's hoof, carrying part of the Stallions weight with his telekinesis.

The whole ordeal still made Fantasy Flicker buzz and flicker more, buzzing here and there. Even with the nauseous feeling, Wesson could tell that Fantasy wasn't healthy in his current state either. But Fantasy was still willing to use his magic to make sure that Wesson could get home safely and get treated for his bite. "Can you walk like this? or are you still too unwell?" he asked in his kindest, albeit fizzy tone which crackles and buzzes on.

There wasn't much that could be down at this moment in time. Sucking the venom out was often more dangerous than helpful. Medical help was the only thing they could seek to help. Wesson cursed the fact he had been slow to pick up on the poisonous effects of the bite. He should have known better.

He felt grateful as Fantasy attempt to slow the spreading of the venom by applying pressure to his leg, like a torque. He knew it would at last aid in keeping the poison from affecting him as quickly. Wesson figured he could walk but he would be slow. Unless Fantasy could help him move faster as well, he wasn't sure of his chances.

"Ain't much we can do about it, 'cept for makin' for Appleloosa as fast as we can. Got some pretty good doctors, one who specialises in poison 'n' bites,"
He stated matter-of-factly , before tilting his head to gesture towards the trapped lamia and commenting bitterly, "Unless that thing fancies helping us out."

He looked at the lamia and shook his head. Fantasy was tartarus-bent against that notion. "Hmph... It ain't like i can teleport the both of us. Ya know the name of that doctor?" He asked Wesson, ready to teleport and warn that doctor to meet them in the saloon building, since there was no way that Wesson would make it through the whole orchard towards Appleloosa in this state. This seemed like their best bet. Neither of them could force the lamia to help them either, cause they were both too tired and the lamias they fought against too tough for them.

Fantasy simply chose to teleport the moment that Smith had given him a name, and then teleport back to lead smith to the saloon so he can rest there and meet the doctor, to get his wound checked out.

He was glad that Fantasy seemed to be think clearly because Wesson seems unable to pull his focus away from the burning sensation in his leg. The fire seems to be growing and spreading to his whole body. The earth pony had been bitten by snakes before but this was like anything he'd experienced before. This was much worse.

Wesson forced himself to think at Fantasy question. The stallion literally tapped his good hoof against his skull, trying to knock his brain clear. His mind was foggy, like he was wading through a thick treacle to reach what he wanted to remember. In hindsight, the venom was sucking his will and ability to think clearly, but in the moment, in just seemed like he was forgetful and painfully incompetent.

"Doctor...Doctor...Heart Beat he exclaimed, the connections suddenly made in his mind as the name came to him all to clearly. "Doctor Heart Beat. She's the one!"

Fantasy started really fizzing out and zapping now. if he was saying something, then Wesson could definitely not understand it. The ghost vanished in the blink of an eye. It was silent. it was him alone for a good minute or two. After that time, Wesson felt a chill over his spine once more. but that chill was accompanied by rocks once more floating and pressing against his leg, and lifting his leg. he heard something, but as it was only a soft crackle and fizzle, like that of a worn out radio, he couldn't make anything out. The stone under his hoof pulled forward a bit, As Fantasy used his exhausting magic to lead Wesson through the caves, back to the saloon. Fantasy could hardly tell if he had managed to properly tell Heart Beat to come to the saloon past the orchard.

It mattered little what Fantasy knew, though. he had tried his best and he still had to lead Wesson a little further. No matter what Wesson might say, move or do, it fell on deaf ears, apparently. Even if he called out in pain or winced heavily, the rocks floated forward all the same, forcing him to walk on if he wanted to properly receive and make use of Fantasy's aid. For fantasy himself, everything was slowly going black around him. Sounds, sights, feeling the air, feeling his magic of his levitation... by the second ,it all got fuzzier and darker. Darker still. Fantasy could not be spoken too or approached in any way as he moved back throughout the cave, levitating rocks helping Wesson as much as possible, all the while shaking slightly. Fantasy would lose 'consciousness' before Wesson made it to the saloon, but Wesson wasn't far anymore.

The rocks stopped levitating, falling down by Wesson's now completely limp leg and hoof. He could not hear, see or feel anything of Fantasy anymore, even the soft fizzing noise had completely vanished.