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