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[FLUTTERRAPE] The House Upon The Hill

By Nebulus
Created: 2021-07-16 21:31:33
Updated: 2021-07-03 23:46:30
Expiry: Never
anonsafe/flutterrape/horror

  1. Originally uploaded to Pastebin: October 31st, 2013
  2. ---
  3.  
  4. Been in Flutterrape for a year now.
  5. Fuck.
  6.  
  7. Still, here's a spooky scary storyton for you.
  8.  
  9.  
  10. <3
  11. ---
  12.  
  13. >For some time now you had been suspicious of the house upon the hill.
  14. >Far from the more densely packed areas of Ponyville, it sat alone and untouched day after day.
  15. >Nestled in an alcove surrounded by unusual trees, gnarled bark and thin leaves.
  16. >For as long as you had lived in this town, you had become fascinated with the quaint little abode.
  17. >Asking for any information on it was usually met with some variation of the same response:
  18. >"I'm not sure. Never really crossed my mind."
  19. >Being a very social town, you found this odd.
  20. >A single house stood out among the rest. Somewhat of a 'Pariah' to the rest of the village.
  21. >Even the resident socialite, Pinkie Pie, claimed to not know much about it.
  22. >"It's always been there, Nonny! And as far as I know, no pony lives there. Hey! Wanna eat some cake?!"
  23. >As the weeks dragged on, the house occupied your thoughts more than you would have liked.
  24. >Did anyone live there? Was it abandoned? If so, why?
  25. >It was in a nice secluded spot. A gentle stream ran past it and through Ponyville.
  26. >Why on earth would such a small community block out a place like this?
  27. >Although some might find such thoughts to be an odd thing to dwell on, you knew that there was something amiss.
  28. >Perhaps a mystery was afoot? Something to delve into and pick apart?
  29. >Or maybe it was nothing.
  30.  
  31. >As you pick up your bag and zip up your jacket, you look towards the lonely structure, just visible in the dying light of the day.
  32. >Tonight, you have decided to visit the house upon the hill.
  33. >Like the bold adventurers of old, you are going to strive into the heart of darkness and uncover what secrets lie within!
  34. >...
  35. >Well, perhaps not in such a glamorous fashion.
  36. >You trudge along under the veil of night, the cool air enveloping you like a blanket.
  37. >The house, nearly impossible to see now, looms closer. The shadows around it giving it the appearance of some great, malevolent beast.
  38. >Chuckling to yourself, you walk closer.
  39. >A house is a house. No matter how intimidating it might be.
  40. >It is a construct of brick and lumber. Created by living, breathing, and you'll admit - rather charming - creatures.
  41. >The last thing it poses is a threat.
  42. >As you approach the house, the path becomes shrouded by the shadows cast by trees. The already eerie umbra intensified by the light of the moon trying to find it's way through the maze of leaves above you.
  43. >Only when you breach the blackness do you realise that you were holding your breath.
  44. >Another short laugh escapes you.
  45. >Your mind is quite keen on playing tricks on you this evening. Imaginary horrors appear the lurk just out of sight, and the slightest noise indicates creatures of malicious intent waiting to strike.
  46. >Banishing such nonsense, you press on, determined to vanquish your fears and curiosity once and for all.
  47. >The thrill of the whole situation fills you with a greater sense of adventure the further you go, and you find yourself moving faster towards the humble abode.
  48. >Taking a second to gaze at it, you take in all it's features.
  49. >Black, empty voids fill it's windows. And the almost silent trickle of water in the nearby stream dances in your ears.
  50. >The air is chilly, but still. And not even the lightest of breezes is felt on your cheek.
  51. >Hoisting your bag further up your shoulder, you continue walking towards the door.
  52. >Once you reach it, you feel your palms become sweaty.
  53. >A deep breath isn't enough to ease your discomfort now. And though you are very much alone out here, you still feel as though you are being watched.
  54. >Swallowing a lump in your throat, you place your hand against the wooden door, and push.
  55. >The door creaks open.
  56. >Moonlight is the first to enter the house.
  57. >It shines over your shoulder and shows you the main room.
  58. >Dusty chairs and a small table rest on a wooden floor.
  59. >A large, equally as messy rug is haphazardly draped down the centre of the room.
  60. >The smell hits you.
  61. >Musty, old fabric. Years of neglect.
  62. >This house has been empty for quite some time.
  63. >You spend a moment just taking it all in, before you remember the lamp in your bag.
  64. >Slinging it off your shoulder, you hurriedly root around inside it and pull out an oil lamp.
  65. >Carefully filling it, you set it ablaze and squint as the moonlight is overpowered by the orange glow.
  66. >Holding it with an outstretched arm, you proceed inwards.
  67. >As you take your first steps further into the room, the door behind you slams shut.
  68. >The sudden bang causes you to jump, the lamp swinging and the moonlight being locked out.
  69. >You can feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest.
  70. >The warm glow of the lamp seems so much more inviting now that it's your only source of light.
  71. >Gulping again, you turn back to look at the main room, quietly reassuring yourself that it was just the wind.
  72. >Through the burning light of the oil lamp, you make out a flight of stairs in the corner.
  73. >Taking a careful step forward, you gently put your weight on your foot.
  74. >The floorboard creaks under the strain, but you push on.
  75. >Reaching the foot of the stairs, you hold your lamp further out before you.
  76. >It's a short set of stairs, and you make your way up them, each footfall more cautious than the last.
  77. >When you reach the landing, you are greeted by a boarded up window.
  78. >A single ray of moonlight peeks through the crack.
  79. >Licking your lips, you continue, inspecting the walls by lamplight.
  80. >Paintings. Just a few, placed along the walls in a random pattern.
  81. >Depictions of flower-full meadows and woodland settings.
  82. >One painting, however, is turned around to face the wall.
  83. >It's a small frame. Right at the end of the corridor.
  84. >You feel your feet carrying you towards it, a free hand moves up to touch it.
  85. >Gingerly, your fingers wrap around the frame and turn the painting over, the canvas illuminated by the orange glow.
  86. >Your eyes widen and you take a step back, the breath getting caught in your throat at the sight.
  87. >A pony sits upon a stool, her hooves placed patiently on her lap, no doubt as she waits for the painting to be done.
  88. >Only... Her face. It's disfigured. Horrifically so.
  89. >The paint is old, and cracked, and you can't see very well with just the mere radiance of your lamp.
  90. >But the right side of her face is grey, and rotten.
  91. >Though the mare smiles, one side of her face pristine and beautiful, the other half of her face is gross parody of her otherwise delicate features.
  92. >Her skin is twisted, and vile. Her lips pulled back revealing rows of yellowed, fractured teeth.
  93. >And her right eye is missing. An empty, soulless chasm lies where her eye once was.
  94. >The sheer menace of the painting is enough to make you avert your gaze.
  95. >You let out your breath, remembering that you were once again holding your breath.
  96. >Forcing a brief smile, you straighten up and proceed through the doorway across from the painting.
  97. >You now stand in a bedroom.
  98. >A simple, mangy looking bed is the most prominent feature.
  99. >Other, less interesting furniture is dotted about the place, similar to the layout of the room below you.
  100. >The pony that lived here clearly didn't have much knowledge in the ways of Feng Shui.
  101. >Though you try your best to lighten your mood, you can't help feeling like this house is sapping you of your spirit.
  102. >It's all in your mind, you tell yourself.
  103. >...But the walls seem much closer than before.
  104. >You turn your attention once again to the bed.
  105. >At the foot of it, just peeking out from beneath, is what seems to be a box.
  106. >Setting the lamp on the floor, you kneel down and reach forwards, sliding the box out carefully.
  107. >It, like much of the house, is of simply design.
  108. >Polished wood and a simple lock.
  109. >Upon closer inspection, the lock seems to be have been torn open.
  110. >Frowning, you open the lid, the box's hinges obeying in total silence.
  111. >Inside you see a single letter, the seal unbroken.
  112. >Narrowing your eyes, you reach in and pick it up, being careful not to crumple it between your fingers.
  113. >You open the parchment, and tilt it towards the lamp so that you can read what is written.
  114. >'never'
  115. >Whoever wrote it was in a hurry. The hoof-writing is scraggly, and trails off towards the end.
  116. >You contemplate for a moment, then pocket the letter.
  117. >Standing up, you pick up the lamp and turn towards the door.
  118. >Something stops you once you reach it, however.
  119. >Across from the bedroom door, you stare at the painting of the mare.
  120. >Or at least, you would.
  121. >The mare in the painting is gone.
  122. >You blink a few times and cautiously approach the painting.
  123. >Grasping the frame, you turn it over to look at the back, then flip it so the canvas faces you again.
  124. >Still nothing.
  125. >Your mind starts frantically trying to find an explanation.
  126. >Did you imagine her?
  127. >...Possibly. It's easy to allow a wandering mind to play tricks on you.
  128. >Satisfied with this answer, you proceed to another door on the landing, further towards the stairs.
  129. >Nudging it open, you enter the room.
  130. >The odd cobweb can be seen in the lamplight, but otherwise, all that greets you is silence and dust.
  131. >Before you go, your eye catches something.
  132. >Crouching down you shift an old chair and look at the floor before it.
  133. >A small square shape is cut out in the wood, and you can see dents where you can grip it.
  134. >Placing the lamp on the floor again, you insert your fingers into the dents and pull up.
  135. >The square pops out of the floor, revealing a little trove of sorts.
  136. >Various pictures fill this one.
  137. >Fillies in corsets, looking displeased.
  138. >Family photographs and other such simple memorabilia is all that fills it.
  139. >A few old dusty trinkets, pocket watches that have long since stopped ticking and...
  140. >You shuffle the lamp towards the edge of the trove, so that it can light it better.
  141. >A thick black line is on the floor of the secret stash.
  142. >You hastily move all the photos and trinkets out of it, and illuminate the wood with your lamp.
  143. >Sure enough, the word "She" is written in black ink, previously hidden by everything in the hole.
  144. >The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and the air in the room seems to drop several degrees in temperature.
  145. >Just as you stand up, something small hits the window. Outside.
  146. >Your ears perk up, listening intently for anything else.
  147. >The only other noise you can hear is your slow, steady breathing.
  148. >After a while, you hear something else hit the window.
  149. >It sounds like...
  150. >On cue, you suspicions are confirmed and it starts raining outside.
  151. >You frown.
  152. >Rainbow Dash didn't tell you that there was rain scheduled today.
  153. >Getting home will be a soggy affair.
  154. >At the thought of home, your stomach does a back-flip.
  155. >Before you know it, your entire body is screaming at you to go home.
  156. >Home is warm. Full of light, and safe.
  157. >You internally scoff.
  158. >This house is perfectly safe. Just a bit... Spooky.
  159. >With the sound of rain lashing against the windows, you develop a sense of dread.
  160. >Perhaps it's the thought of being surrounded by so much water, but you feel almost trapped within these walls.
  161. >The walls that seem to be getting closer every time you look at them.
  162. >Gripping your lamp, you stroll back onto the landing.
  163. >Maybe you should call it a night. Come back when it's light, maybe?
  164. >The house creaks as you descend the stairs, the rain outside now accompanied by a low, ominous howling.
  165. >You walk through the living room, the anxiety building up within you like some sort of fire.
  166. >The door is your salvation. Just get to the door. This house is getting to you. It's inside your mind even when you told yourself everything was fine. Everything isn't fine.
  167. >You want to get out of the house.
  168. >Why don't your feet take you out of the house?
  169. >You just want to leave.
  170. >YOU JUST. WANT. TO. LEAVE.
  171.  
  172. >...
  173.  
  174. >Blinking several times, you find yourself staring at the front door.
  175. >How long have you been stood here?
  176. >The rain is still falling outside, and you hear the distant rumble of thunder.
  177. >Instead of simply reaching forwards and opening the door, you instead decide to turn around.
  178. >Leave the door for now. There's more exploring to do.
  179. >Lots of exploring.
  180. >Many more secrets to uncover.
  181. >You raise your lamp and notice another doorway that you hadn't seen before.
  182. >This one leads downstairs.
  183. >A basement, perhaps?
  184. >As you walk towards it, the black maw that the stairs leads into seems to grow, despite the orange light from your lamp.
  185. >Feeling compelled, you take a step forward onto the top step.
  186. >Another one follows that, and then another.
  187. >Before you know it, you're walking into pitch darkness. With only your lamp guiding the way.
  188. >Boxes stacked high and other bizarre paraphernalia clutter this room.
  189. >You lick your lips and push on, allowing the unknown to take you in.
  190. >Passing by a mountain of old rags, you find a peculiar sight.
  191. >An object covered by a large canvas, and a simple wooden box.
  192. >Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you are screaming at yourself to forget this business and escape while you still can.
  193. >But... No.
  194. >No, rather than quitting now. You instead make the unusual decision to cast aside the logical thinking you so normally cling to, and embrace the thought of finding something more... Intriguing.
  195. >You set your lamp on the floor once again, next to the box.
  196. >Reaching towards the cloth, you pull it off the object, revealing a blank canvas.
  197. >A twang of disappointment, but still, perhaps the box contains something more enticing.
  198. >Kneeling down, you flex your fingers before gently opening the lid.
  199. >Within its confines, you find a single scrap of parchment.
  200. >Upon it, is written a single word.
  201. >'stops.'
  202. >You stare at it for a good few seconds, letting it register in your mind.
  203. >The words you have previously found creep back into memory.
  204. >'never' 'she' 'stops'.
  205. >She never stops.
  206. >Up until now, you had only felt dread, anxiety, and worry.
  207. >But as you read the final word, and as the night's events all fall into place, you find yourself gripped with an overwhelming sensation of terror.
  208. >Your muscles tense up and you slowly raise your head to look at the canvas, that was previously blank.
  209. >The mare in the painting glares down at you.
  210. >Her entire face is rotted, broken and flushed with the most intense hatred you have ever seen.
  211. >Though she is motionless, her expression speaks volumes, and you let out a strangled cry.
  212. >In your panic, you knock over your lamp, which smashes against the cold stone floor.
  213. >Your world is instantly plunged into darkness, and you hear a low moaning behind you.
  214. >You blindly stumble through the darkness, the sounds of whatever it is in the room with you getting louder, and closer.
  215. >Thinking you can see something up ahead, you scramble towards it.
  216. >The noises behind you start getting more agitated.
  217. >A low guttural sound is heard, and you hear a box get knocked around.
  218. >Your heart is racing a mile a minute, all you can think about is freedom.
  219. >To your horror, you trip up on something in the dark, and slam into the floor shoulder-first.
  220. >The creature in the void is almost upon you, and you can smell a putrid stench of decay hitting your nostrils.
  221. >Your hand fumbles around in the dark for anything you can grasp, and you touch what feels like a plank of wood.
  222. >Pulling on it, you find that it is holding fast and won't move.
  223. >Just then, you move your hand up slightly, and feel another bit of wood.
  224. >It's the stairs!
  225. >You drag yourself up the stairs whilst trying to get to your feet, the horror's screams getting louder and angrier.
  226. >As you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes immediately lock onto the door.
  227. >Every little painting in the room now bears the same horrific visage of the rotting mare, but all you care about is the door.
  228. >Hurdling furniture, you move like lightning through the darkness towards your salvation.
  229. >You grab the handle, and pull as hard as you can.
  230. >Nothing.
  231. >Hoofsteps on wood can be heard as the creature begins to ascend the stairs.
  232. >There's no way out.
  233. >The windows are blocked with heavy planks, and the door is made of solid wood.
  234. >You tug as hard as you can on the door, but it just won't move.
  235. >Fear gets the better of you, and you feel tears streaking down your cheeks as you slam your fists against the door in frustration.
  236. >Placing your back to the door, you see a shape appear from the doorway you came from.
  237. >You sob as the form slowly moves towards you, skulking past furniture and bringing the same stench of decay with it.
  238. >As you slide down the door and sit on the ground, accepting your fate, the creature screams again and reaches a hoof towards you.
  239. >Turn your head to the side and slam your eyes shut.
  240. >It was all for nothing.
  241. >Your curiosity was ultimately your undoing.
  242. >Perhaps that was why the residents never spoke of this accursed building?
  243. >Either out of fear, or forced repression of memories.
  244. >No matter the reason. You have fallen into it's trap.
  245. >And the price you must pay for your trespass is your life.
  246.  
  247. >So ends the tale of Anonymous.
  248. >And the story of the House upon the Hill.
  249.  
  250. >...
  251.  
  252. >"S-so is this your fetish?"
  253. >Your eyes snap open, and your face turns back to the creature.
  254. >The two of you hold gazes for a moment.
  255. >Much to your discomfort, the creature is indeed the rotting mare in the pictures.
  256. >She's just as horrifying in real life as she is in her depictions.
  257. >But the real question here is:
  258. "I beg your pardon?"
  259. >"Umm. Is being scared out of your mind your fetish?"
  260. >Your jaw drops.
  261. >No.
  262. >You REFUSE to believe this.
  263. >NO.
  264. >Grab the rotting mare's face and pull.
  265. >Fluttershy, her mane messy and unkept from wearing the mask, blinks a few times and grins at you.
  266. >"So, is it? I mean, if it's not, we can try something else. Umm. I mean, if that's okay with you..."
  267. >She sits back on her haunches and taps her front hooves together sheepishly.
  268. >"Fluttershy? Did it work?"
  269. >"N-no, I don't think so..."
  270. >"Darn!"
  271. >Twilight Sparkle appears out of a hole in the roof.
  272. >She drops down next to Fluttershy and turns on all the lights with magic.
  273. >"This took so much planning! The setting was perfect!"
  274. >"I-I know..."
  275. >Twilight scrunches her face up and jabs your chest with a hoof.
  276. >"Do you have any idea how much time and effort we put into this? Do you?!"
  277. >You can't manage to speak words at the moment, so you just gawk at her.
  278. >"Months! MONTHS! We had to teach Rarity how to paint!"
  279. >"Umm, T-twilight--"
  280. >"And now you don't even have the common courtesy to drop your pants and rut Fluttershy? What a joke!"
  281. >"Twilight..."
  282. >The unicorn sighs.
  283. >"Yes, Fluttershy?"
  284. >"I-I think we broke Anon."
  285. >You are drooling all over your chest, your arms limp at your sides.
  286. >"Well... Good! I should hope he is! I hope he feels sorry for what he's done. Rainbow Dash had to set up a rogue storm for this!"
  287. >Twilight reaches forwards and slaps your cheek with a hoof several times.
  288. >"Hey! Hey you! Look alive. You're going to make amends."
  289. "Buuuuh?"
  290. >"It's Nightmare Night. We had to pay off the whole town to NOT dress up or mention it to you."
  291. >"Th-that cost a lot of bits..."
  292. >"A LOT of bits indeed!"
  293. >Twilight huffs.
  294. >"Now I didn't bribe the Mayor with royal funding and lesbian sex for nothing! You're going to get in on with Fluttershy, and you're going to LIKE IT!"
  295.  
  296. >And so, Anonymous was forced to have reluctant sex with Fluttershy, while she wore the rotting mare mask.
  297. >At the end of the day, you weren't sure which was more terrifying. The mask, or the sex.
  298.  
  299. The End.
  300. Happy Halloween!

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