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Terror on a Candle-lit Night (PasteJam 2023)
By SlowNonCreated: 2023-02-06 06:00:19
Updated: 2023-03-08 11:03:19
Expiry: Never
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>She set it ablaze...
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>Smiling softly at the sight, she turns to survey the room.
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>”Is this too much?” She thought to herself. “Or too little?”
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>Saving her from her own racing conscience, a knock sounds from the front door.
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>She pauses, unsure if she heard right, or simply imagined it in her panic.
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>The knock was very quiet, so she could be mistaken.
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>Could her guest be having second thoughts?
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>”Only one way to find out” She decided.
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>Approaching the door at her own pace, she takes a deep, calming breath before swinging it open.
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>To her surprise, all that greets her is the open space of her doorway, and the nighttime’s ambience.
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>Frowning, she begins assuming that what she heard wasn’t a knock after all.
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>Just to be sure she isn’t being pranked, she steps out and checks the perimeter just outside of the front door.
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>Finding nothing, a sigh packed with a couple prevalent emotions escapes her lips.
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>Disappointment is one of them, and relief is the other.
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>She isn’t sure which of the two feelings was stronger in that moment.
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>Heading back towards the front door, mentally preparing to spend the night alone, she freezes upon finding it closed.
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>This time, two different emotions take hold.
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>Confusion is one, and fear is the other.
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>Only, there’s no question that one is stronger than the other.
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>After an unknown amount of time, she slowly creeps up towards the entrance, cursing herself for leaving the windows covered.
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>Trying to regain control of her breathing, she contemplates for a bit before deciding what to do.
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>Raising a shaky hoof, she goes to knock on the door, but hesitates.
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>Mainly because it’s her own home, and politely requesting access is totally ridiculous.
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>It was intended to be a set of four knocks, though only one had enough force to be heard due to her hesitation; and faintly, at that.
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>She repeatedly asks the question ”why?” in her mind, each time inquiring about something different, yet all related to the core issue.
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>As if to answer her unspoken questions, the door’s handle begins twisting.
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>It’s not but a moment later that the door itself swings open, revealing the inside.
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>With nothing but the sight of an empty room to greet her.
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>Her breathing increases in speed, and her heart beats wildly against her chest.
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>”S-stop this!” She yells into the empty home, pleading with whoever is behind this cruel joke, and voice breaking as she continues. “You’re scaring me!”
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>Tears gather in her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.
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>Fear is one, and anger is the other.
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>Her desire to find and scold this mystery prankster just barely outweighs her desire to run, and she steps into her home once more after she’s wiped away her tears.
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>Thinking ahead, she closes the door behind her so that it can’t be used to escape.
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>On high alert, she makes her way forward as she eyes the room carefully.
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>”Whoever you are, I’m giving you one chance to give up this game,” She warns, her fear betrayed by the shakiness in her voice. “Please, s-save it for Nightmare Night...”
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>Her eyes land on the candles she lit, and she furrows her brow.
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>Of the four that were burning, only two remain lit.
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>She starts to feel really unsafe, and eyes the dimly-lit room with caution; as if an assailant will show themselves at any second.
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>Preparing to yell out once again, her words are caught halfway as a soft, yet unmistakable sound is heard behind her.
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>A knock.
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>Her heart skips a few beats; the blood freezing in her veins as she becomes completely still.
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>She wishes, more than anything, that somepony would jump out and say “gotcha!”, right now.
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>That naïve wish isn’t coming true, and she knows this.
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>She blinks, and, when her eyes open after the very short interval, only one candle remains lit.
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>Mind reeling from all of the confusing and unnerving things happening around her, she still can’t help but feel that there’s a connection between these two things.
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>Not wasting time thinking about it any further, she turns and sprints towards the cursed door.
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>She grits her teeth as she reaches it in no time, but has no plan use it as normal.
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>”Sorry, not sorry, door.” Is all she says before spinning and bucking it with all her might.
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>The resulting *bang* assaults her eardrums, and the wood splinters from top to bottom after just the first strike.
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>”Whatever this is, I’m not just gonna stand here and let it happen!” She declares, gritting her teeth as she prepares another.
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>Surprising even herself, the second buck splits the door into two jagged halves, which both simply slump against the door’s frame on either end.
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>She’s heard of hysterical strength, but sweet Celestia...
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>Breathing a sigh of relief, she allows herself to relax just slightly, as she knows that, at the very least, she did what she could to prevent... whatever was about to happen.
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>Stepping over the mess that was once responsible for protecting her home, her mind tries its hardest to come up with a culprit.
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>She’s more than a little saddened that somepony would go to such extreme lengths to mess with her.
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>”What kind of pony would quietly keep the joke going after seeing their victim experience so much real fear and stress?” She wonders.
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>”Is this what ponies are into, nowadays?” She asks aloud, closing her eyes and taking in one last, adrenaline-addled breath of fresh night air before turning to retreat into her compromised home.
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>A thud, as well as an impact on her muzzle, causes her to jump back in fear and pain.
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>”N-no... no bucking way...” She trembles as she realizes that the thing she’d bumped into was the door.
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>She feels as if she’s finally lost her mind.
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>She could understand the other things, sort of, but the door was broken only moments ago.
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>Even if it had been magic, she would’ve heard the door being fixed or replaced, as it was mere inches behind her.
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>She doesn’t even jump when she hears it this time.
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>Either because she’s exhausted, or just doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction any longer.
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>”The candle...” She whispers to herself.
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>She wants to see it.
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>Maybe one of her many questions will finally be answered.
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>Curiosity is one, and resignation is the other.
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>Raising a hoof, she grabs the handle; twisting it and swinging the door open.
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>What she sees doesn’t surprise her.
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>Of course, it was her.
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>”Who else could it have been?” She asks herself, chuckling as the both of them share a smile.
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>Feeling content and relieved, she watched as she blew out the candle.
by SlowNon
by SlowNon
by SlowNon