GREEN
122
0
2000 11.12 KB 201
2000 11.12 KB 201
-
>Someone once told you that dreams are messages.
-
>That you’d do well to pay attention to them.
-
>So, what does that mean for you then?
-
>Maybe that there's nothing left.
-
>Maybe that it’s way too late to matter anymore.
-
>Your name is Twilight Sparkle and you haven’t remembered your dreams in a long, long time.
-
-
-
>You’ve forgotten again.
-
>Long ago that might have scared you.
-
-
>You’re on your way home.
-
>At least you think so.
-
>No… that can’t be right.
-
>You’re in what looks like an old-timey candy shop, although it’s too dark to tell clearly.
-
>Your steps are swallowed by the heavy floorboards and the stained leather benches.
-
>Mason jars filled with sticky things are lining the wall behind the counter.
-
>A door to the side leads somewhere deeper but is locked with way too many chains and deadbolts.
-
>Everything is touched by the sickly glow of the few lamps scattered across the tables.
-
>The darkness is muddy somehow.
-
>Greasy.
-
>The air is heavy with sugary-fruity scents, mixed with something more complex you can’t place.
-
>The corners of the shop are blurry, hiding shadows that melt away whenever you try to look closely.
-
>And yet, despite the eerie sensation gnawing at the back of your mind, the place has some half-remembered familiarity.
-
>Have you been here before?
-
>The memory is hazy.
-
>Something was here once but only a vague idea remains.
-
>The taste in your mouth is stale, bitter, and it won’t go away no matter how much you try to spit it out.
-
-
>A noise makes you turn.
-
>Something is bent over the next table, feeding with wet, squelchy noises.
-
>You probably should have noticed the gulping, grunting mare sooner.
-
>Her coat is a muddy pink, and her mane is falling down her neck in long, oily-slick strands.
-
>You recognize her but you don’t know why.
-
>She is devouring what might be some type of large pastry but her eating is all wrong.
-
>Beastly.
-
>The swollen belly of the pastry is filled with something red and viscous.
-
>Maybe marmalade or jam, but it’s too chunky—too crusty and black at the edges.
-
>It’s threatening to turn your stomach.
-
-
>Luscious golden eyes find yours as the mare glances over.
-
>The light makes it seem like they’re completely filled with metal, glinting with a predator’s hunger.
-
>They’re untouched by the smile she flashes you, revealing pointy, razor-sharp teeth.
-
>A shark’s smile.
-
>It makes your skin crawl.
-
-
>"Sorry." Her voice is strained, more used to growls than speech. "I’ve been told I’m a messy eater."
-
"Do I know you?"
-
>Not the politest greeting but you’re not trying to make friends.
-
>Turning fully, large chunks of the reddish-brown jam sticking to her fur, the mare shakes her head.
-
>"I don’t think so," she lets out a poisonous giggle. "Not right now."
-
>Her scent is sweeter, richer than the rest of the shop, like the decay-stink of a rotting fruit.
-
>It’s making you queasy, reminding you of something you’d prefer stayed buried.
-
>Just your luck.
-
>All the strange, back-alley stores and you had to pick the weird one.
-
"Never mind," you mumble. "I didn’t–"
-
>A grunt interrupts you.
-
>"And here I thought we’d be past this, Twilight," the mare pouts playfully. "You of all ponies should know how much it stings to be forgotten. And by a friend, no less."
-
-
>A wave of adrenaline washes over you.
-
>She knows your name?
-
>The question leaves your mouth before your mind can stop it.
-
>"Of course I do, Twilight! You told me."
-
>The mare’s teeth turn her laugh into something grotesque.
-
>"You told me the first time we met. You told me your name and I told you mine."
-
>You can feel the change in her emotions.
-
>"Although I BOTHERED to remember it!"
-
-
>The cloying scent is getting heavier as the mare creeps closer, exhaling more of her miasma.
-
>Before you can even try to stumble away, she has closed the distance, her mouth twitching, struggling not to snap at you.
-
>A familiar panic rises as you try to gain some room.
-
>"Twilight!"
-
>Her words are getting mangled, having a harder time making their way around a mouthful of razorblades.
-
>More of the viscous liquid runs from her maw, and it’s darker now, too.
-
>"Tell me you haven’t forgotten AGAIN!"
-
"I…"
-
>It’s at this moment—with the uncanny mare shoving herself into your face and you trying not to trip over your hooves—that your brain decides to give you something back.
-
>You wish it hadn’t.
-
-
>You’ve been in here before.
-
>You’ve met this mare before.
-
>You couldn’t begin to guess how often.
-
-
>You breathe the name of your oldest friend like a forgotten curse.
-
>A prayer to banish spirits.
-
>And as if a switch had been flipped, the mare’s features soften.
-
>"You remember, right?" Pinkie Pie smiles bashfully, bringing her hooves to her cheeks. "Twilight remembers me."
-
>She’s giggling to herself with her neck and chest still stained by whatever that filthy jam is.
-
-
>You remember her, alright.
-
>You remember what usually happens when you find yourself in this place.
-
-
>"What’s wrong, Twilight?" Pinkie notices your anxiety.
-
"I-I have to…" you trip over your own thoughts, stumbling away from her.
-
>"No, no, no! It’s fine. It’s fine, Twilight. I’m fine."
-
>She finally lets you take a step back.
-
>"I’m not going to hurt you, see?!"
-
>Pulling at her own cheek, Pinkie reveals the corner of her mouth.
-
>"No more icky schtuff."
-
>She traces her hoof over her chest in a weird motion, working the black ichor deeper into her coat.
-
>"Cross my heart, hope to die."
-
>You’re not buying it.
-
>Where is the damn exit?
-
>"Gosh, Twilight! Will you relax?! It’s okay, I’m not going to eat you!"
-
"You mean like you tried a minute ago?"
-
>"Yes."
-
"Or last time?"
-
>"Yes," Pinkie squirms, "but… but in my defense, you did forget again, that time. Just tell me you know what to do and you’ll be fine."
-
-
>Your brain will not stop sending danger signals.
-
>You’re trying to let Pinkie persuade you into relaxing, if only to keep her from getting angry, but every bit of your subconscious is screaming at you.
-
>"So?"
-
"Where… where am I?" you breathe, working to bite down your instincts. "How did I get here? I was just…"
-
>Why can’t you remember?
-
>"You forgot again?"
-
>Pinkie looks genuinely hurt.
-
"What are you talking about? What’s all this about remembering and forgetting? Are you talking about…?"
-
>Damn it.
-
>You can feel there is something to her words.
-
>Something vital.
-
>Something you swore you wouldn’t let go.
-
>It’s at the tip of your tongue.
-
-
>"You did forget, didn’t you?"
-
>Your head is swimming, struggling to focus on something you think you knew a lifetime’s worth of bad decisions ago.
-
>You’re gasping for air underwater.
-
>Trying to puzzle a shattered mirror back together while every piece is reflecting a different face.
-
>"Twilight?"
-
>Pinkie’s mouth is twitching again.
-
>"You promised, Twilight! You promised you’d get it right this time."
-
"Yeah, well. Looks like I broke that promise!"
-
>"Fine!" the make barks, the sound reminiscent of a hacksaw going through gravel. "Fine! What do I care! Keep forgetting! Keep it up for a million billion more years! It’s not like you have anyone left to disappoint anymore!"
-
>The edge of a giggle is creeping back into her words.
-
>"And you’ve got ME to keep reminding you, right?"
-
>You instinctively back away.
-
>"It’s important, Twilight. Will you listen to me? You wouldn’t ignore a friend, would you? Well, we kinda know you will though."
-
>Pinkie’s smile is too full of knives for your liking.
-
>Whatever it is she keeps oozing is back to spilling from the corners of her brutal mouth, jet black and bringing with it the odor of spoilt preserves.
-
"Tell me from over there, then!"
-
>"Why do you always have to be so rude, Twilight?" Pinkie takes a step forward. "And here I am trying to help you. This isn’t easy for me, too, you know. But you need to hear."
-
"I don’t!"
-
>"Yes, you do. You know you do."
-
>You hate that she’s right, that the nails stuck in the back of your brain won’t ever stop pounding otherwise.
-
>You can only stare at her.
-
-
>"The Elements!" Pinkie finally spits out the words, and the embers that had been smoldering in your mind flare up into a wildfire.
-
>Your every fiber is resonating at the sound of the syllables even though you haven’t heard them for what feels like centuries.
-
>You remember power.
-
>And the trap you had sprung.
-
>You remember souls stuck at the edge of eternity.
-
>The locked door at the back of the shop is starting to shake as if someone was trying to twist the handle from the other side.
-
-
>Pinkie, unfortunately, is affected by your revelation, too.
-
>"Get them," she growls painfully. "I’m sick of it. I’m sick of their wailing."
-
>More filthy drool comes up as she talks.
-
>Her golden eyes sparkle in the darkness.
-
>You’re still reeling from the aftershocks of an entire life crashing over you.
-
>You know what happens next.
-
-
"S-sure, Pinkie. I’ll just… need to find my way home and I’ll be out of your mane."
-
>"I think I know a way,” Pinkie displays her teeth. "But I doubt you’ll like it very much."
-
>Her muscles flex.
-
>Her tail of muddy pink swings in anticipation.
-
"I don’t think–"
-
>Pinkie flinches forward before you can finish the sentence, her mouth gushing black jam, her fangs ready to bury into your neck.
-
>You try to get away but are too late, the teeth catching you with a revolting squelch.
-
>You land hard on your back, with Pinkie coming down on top of you.
-
>Pain blossoms from the wound as her maw pulls back, ripping muscles and tendons.
-
>You can hear the sensation more than feel it.
-
>Your blood mixes with the dripping jam into a clotted soup of red and black.
-
>You scream, flailing your hooves to try and throw the sick thing off, but you only manage to thrash around in terror.
-
>Pinkie is much stronger than you expected, keeping you pinned under her body.
-
>Under the weight of your past failures.
-
>She’s crunching on your flesh with a pleased expression.
-
>The door is rattling loudly now.
-
>Whatever is on the other side is desperately trying to break through.
-
-
>Pinkie grins after gagging down the chunk of gore that was your shoulder, her face smeared, her golden eyes mad with excitement.
-
>You try to struggle again but the pain is robbing your strength.
-
>Blackening the edges of your vision.
-
>You watch helplessly as she bends down.
-
>She’s going to eat you.
-
>You will die here, in this lightless place filled with things too deplorable to remember.
-
>The sick jam is running freely now, heavy globs hitting your face like tar.
-
>You’re being drowned.
-
>Pinkie’s mind is hidden somewhere in the flavor, forcing its way in.
-
>Old, bitter memories.
-
>Regret burning on your tongue like acid.
-
>The thing that you used to call a friend bites into the wound on your shoulder.
-
>Your consciousness is mercifully fading.
-
-
>The last thing you hear before slipping into the dark is the giggle of a betrayed mare gone insane with time.
-
>A white-hot flash of pain.
-
>A spark of light as your eyes shoot open.
-
-
-
>You’re strangely on edge for having just woken up.
-
>Like you dreamt something thrilling.
-
>You wonder what it was.
-
>It doesn’t really matter though.
-
>You haven’t remembered your dreams in a long, long time.
by ponk
by ponk
by ponk
by ponk