Night had long since fallen over Ponyville. The scarletts, purples, and deep golds of evening dwindled and corroded into the abyssal shades of night. A new moon traversed the sky almost imperceptibly, producing little, if any, natural light to scathe the world below.
Lyra Heartstrings awoke with a start. Snapping up from her damp, sweat-soaked sheets the unicorn issued a harrowing gasp. A hard lump stuck in her throat as she faced the bitter, oppressive darkness. The pitch of the night strangled her vision and she swallowed painfully.
Instinctively, the unicorn felt for her wife, Bon Bon. Panic struck deep into her heart as her hooves dragged across Bon Bon’s empty side of the bed. Lyra squinted into the blackness but was rebuked by the depth of the darkness inhabiting their home.
“Bon? Honey?” the words escaped her trembling lips and the shadows swallowed them greedily like a boa constrictor. Only Lyra’s thumping heart answered. Cold beads of sweat rolled down her neck like dead tongues, sending icy shivers through her spine. Sweeping the bed once more and, again, finding it bereft of Bon Bon’s sleeping form, Lyra called out. Her voice cracked forth only the first syllable as the fog of sleep receded and she recalled that Bon Bon wouldn’t be sharing the bed any time soon.
For a brief moment, the unicorn felt like crying. She was alone in the bed and besieged by the enveloping darkness. Anxiety pooled like brackish swamp water, threatening to drown her in the mire of wet, clinging sheets. Pressure built within Lyra’s chest and she began to panic.
Breathing erratically, Lyra curled up to a sitting position, tucking her forelegs behind the knees of her back legs and rocked as the void crept around her. She attempted to breathe deep, controlled breaths, as Bon had suggested, but the fear encompassing her felt like the legs of a hundred insects crawling under her skin.
Alone in the bed, Lyra felt her chest growing tighter. “Have to calm down … it’s alright. It’s just night time. No reason to panic.”
It’s okay, Ly-Ly. There’s nothing in the dark that isn’t there in the light.
Bon’s voice echoed in her mind. That phrase had been uttered countlessly by her love. How Bon always did her best to assuage the anxiety that choked Lyra.
Lyra reached blindly to the end table beside her and fumbled in the darkness for the lamp that resided there. Her hoof raked against the wall hard enough to scratch the paint, her foreleg knocking over a bottle of hoof sanitizer to rest upon the small packet of tissues. Her hoof struck the body of the lamp, scooting it a few inches. Finally, the braided metal chain rattled against the tough keratin of her hoof. Her breath caught painfully in her chest as she pulled the chain, expecting it to snap or the bulb to blow, leaving her in the sightless black.
Amber light bathed the small bedroom, hues of many different colors invaded the dilated pupils of the unicorn, stinging like wasps. Lyra’s eyes resisted the sudden brightness but welcomed the freedom it brought. A soft glow permeated through her eyelids. Once adjusted to the light, the arrhythmic beating of her heart slowed as she peered around the room, taking in the comfort of familiarity. The syphoning whistle of her rapid breathing normalized to steady, deep breaths.
And yet, something still clutched with desperation in the back of her mind. What had woken her up?
Like a statue, Lyra sat silently in bed, her senses acute and searching for the cause of her somnus disruption. A cold ball formed in her stomach, growing slowly like a tumor as each torturous second ticked by. Her belly began to hurt as fear began creeping back into the recesses of her mind, taking root and metastasizing. Questions began to grow from the fertile soil that was Lyra’s anxiety: Is someone in the house? Am I in danger? What should I do? I locked the door, right? What would Bon Bon do? I wish she were able to do something!
Lyra perceived each moment with all of her senses at once, ears pinging in all directions while questions filled her mind and fed the fear fetus festering within her. Automatically, the unicorn began to curl into a ball, her breathing ramping into a ragged panic. The unknown buried what little bravery she mustered and each rational excuse that formed in her mind was crucified by the onslaught of irrational anxiety.
What woke me up? Is it here? Are they here? What do they want? Just leave me alone! Please! Just leave me alone!
Why are you always so afraid, Ly Ly? Anytime I leave for work you just shut down. Even when I’m home, you are so jumpy. Can’t you try to be brave? For me?
“I’m not brave, like you , Bon. I’m sorry.” Lyra whined miserably. She tucked her head beneath a satin pillow, clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes hard enough that even the tears welling within could not escape.
Please, Ly Ly. I hoped that when we were married you’d calm down. Please, try. Your fears … they make everything harder than they should be. For you … and me.
A terrible scratching like knives tearing through burlap ignited a shriek from Lyra. Her heart skipped a beat so intensely that she thought it had faltered and she would perish. She counted nearly three seconds, each more worriedly than the last until a hard, strong thump resonated in the unicorn’s ears and her heart thrummed back to life. Curled tightly, the unicorn began to shut down. She felt drowsy, her mind wanting only to embrace the unconsciousness of deep sleep where it could hide from the trauma of the waking world and the relentless assault of consternating questions provoking it into panic. It was what cowards did, Lyra knew, but she was a coward.
They make everything harder … for you … and me.
Bon was right. Lyra knew she needed to take control of herself and stop letting all the little things push her over the edge of panic. She needed to sort out the problem before her, conquer it in some way so that she could prove to Bon Bon that she could be better for both of them.
“I’ll do it for you, Bon. I can do this … if it’s for you.” She didn’t believe the conviction of her shuddering voice but knew she had to try. Lyra shook nervously as she pulled the pillow from her face. The room awaited her and Lyra slowly rose from the bed. Her hooves dangled from the edge but pressed fitfully against the box springs. Whatever made that awful scratching could be hiding under the bed, just waiting for the time to strike.
Leaning forward, Lyra could see how the beige carpet disappeared beneath the bed. The lamp just wasn’t powerful enough to vanquish the dark from the corners of the room nor beneath the bed. It occured to Lyra that her nightlight was not on. She kept it in the wall on her side of the room and, as she looked, could see that the bulb, brown and smoky, had blown some point in her sleep, leaving her to wake in the pitch blackness.
Lyra tottered tentatively on the edge of the bed. Her imagination sprang to life as a hundred varieties of awful things slouched below, waiting with dripping maws just outside the lamp’s light. The unicorn took several deep, unsteady breaths and hopped to the floor a foot away from the space below the bed. She nearly shrieked as the scratching once again rended the silence.
On trembling legs, Lyra bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and waited for the thing to take her. She realized, however, that the noise had come from the wall and not from beneath the bed. The taste of metal ebbed across her tongue and she forced herself to confront the noise. Her eyes shot to the window but the only ghosts that haunted it were those created from within her tired, terrified mind.
Again, the rattling, shredding noise pulsed and Lyra followed it with her eyes. It was coming from INSIDE the wall. The thing had followed the layout of the room and turned into the perpendicular wall. Ice clogging her veins, Lyra forced herself to follow. Her steps were awkward, tiny at first, but growing longer with each uncertain, shuddering stride.
“I can do this. I can do this. Bon, I can do this. I’ll show you I’m making the effort. Maybe then you won’t …”
Lyra’s lip quivered as she approached the door leading into the hallway. It was locked and she fumbled with the bolt. Working the handle up and down while pulling the bolt free from the other side. Suddenly, it snapped loudly out of place like a shot. The thing in the wall ripped, like shredding aluminum, away and into the walls of the next room.
Somewhere inside, Lyra’s panic was metabolizing, transforming into something else. The adrenaline of her panic spurred her forward and she flung the door open, dashing into the hallway, ears straining to follow the commotion. Her eyes flickered from wall to wall, searching desperately for the source. It came again, rending into the living room and Lyra pursued. Her heart revved like an engine, propelling the unicorn to chase despite the cold sweat rolling down her brow and cheeks.
She darted into the center of the dimly lit living room, staying a few feet from any piece of furniture so she could survey her surroundings from a safe distance should the thing attack. She paused, the only light coming from nightlights adorning each of the four walls. Somehow, the darkness didn’t frighten her as much now.
A voice Lyra recognized as her own but sounding entirely unfamiliar shouted, “I know you’re here! I’m not afraid of you! Come out already!” Her voice was high but strong as steel and Lyra couldn’t help but wonder from where this resilience had come. If Only Bon Bon could see her now she would be so proud.
Ly-Ly, I … I’m not happy. We never do anything together anymore. You are afraid of everything to the point that it’s hurting me. My career, your potential … it’s all being squandered. Please, my love, please make an effort, get a counselor, anything to try and get this thing under control.
“I’m doing this, Bon. I’m sorting it out. I’ll make you proud.” Lyra spoke unbeknownst to herself as she turned in the center of the living room, her senses overclocked in the hunt for the thing in the walls, the thing that frightened her. Still her blood was ice and her body trembled but she pressed herself, taking matters into her hooves was invigorating. A confidence she had never known calmed her despite the warnings from her irrational fears.
From the wall behind a beige couch came the rippling noise again. A shadow bolted like a bull through the room and Lyra leapt back as it came for her. The thing moved so quickly that the unicorn barely glimpsed it. Larger than an ottoman, the black shape was an amalgam of all the things Lyra feared the most: eight repugnant eyes like a spider, a body that slithered like a bloated snake, and yet, somehow skittered like a million cockroaches swarming as one entity. Her eyes, dilated in the dim light of the room, bulged and her breath caught sharply.
I'm leaving, Ly-Ly. I need to get away for a little while and think about our relationship. I've done so much to help you but you ... you just don't want to help yourself.
Bon Bon's voice echoed in Lyra's head and pushed her. The fear of potentially losing the only pony Lyra had ever loved fueled her growing confidence. She had to do this if she wanted to keep Bon. Almost as if being possessed, Lyra’s body sprang after the crawling thing. Her mind raced with questions inspired by terror but she knew she must not waiver. She couldn’t allow herself to obsess over the darkness behind those questions which waited to bloom like flowers of horror. If she succumbed to those clawing, gnawing impulses she would falter and freeze, swallowed up by the fears she couldn’t face.
Bon wouldn’t like that. She’d … leave for good. It wouldn’t just be a break to gather her thoughts.
The dark, bulging form of the thing turned through the open bathroom door, its millions of insect legs echoed on the tile floor like typewriter snaps. Lyra didn’t slow or stagger but dashed inside, eager to confront the beast and cast aside the burden of her fears.
The thing quivered like gelatin, a bulk amassed in the middle of the dark bathroom floor. It squalled, sensing Lyra’s persistence and intention. It’s cry was like hooves on a chalkboard but heavy with fear as the pony loomed in the doorway.
Lyra stalked the thing slowly as she crept closer and closer to it. Her hooves clacked against the tiles and the thing, now seemingly smaller than before, squirmed. The bulbous, tuberescense of the thing had shrunk wildly and Lyra felt stronger, more powerful than ever before. Here she was, facing the thing that had given her such a shock, had terrified her just moments before. With each step, the thing shrunk until it was a diminutive, frail blot of darkness against the white tiles of the bathroom.
“I’m tired of being afraid!” Lyra yelled, anger circulating through her small frame. “You can’t hurt me anymore!”
The thing, so small, attempted to scurry away and Lyra slammed a hoof in front of it, blocking its path. The tiny creature bounced from Lyra’s hoof and pivoted, running the opposite direction. Another hoof crashed before it, halting and trapping its retreat.
Lyra, I’ve decided that I can’t be with you anymore. I love you and I always will, but your problems are ruining my life. I … I’m sorry but I just can’t live like this.
“No! I won’t lose you, Bon Bon! I can’t be alone again!” Lyra screamed, her body trembling with adrenaline as Bon Bon’s words came back to haunt her. How those words provoked her deepest fears and triggered such an unexpected, primal response from the mare. She would do anything to keep Bon Bon with her.
Lyra reared on her back legs and brought her full weight down upon the thing. It’s body crunched sickeningly like soggy cereal. The crackling of ligament, bone, and flesh shot through Lyra’s hooves but she paid no heed. Again and again she brought hooves down to crush the thing. At first it squealed and attempted to flee but its pulverized body refused to react. It quickly fell silent as Lyra’s hooves reduced it to a quivering pile of ruined, bloody meat.
Lyra laughed to herself, a wicked grin spread across her face as she stared down at the remains of the mouse. “I did it! I faced my fears!” The unicorn hopped in delight, thin streaks of blood tracking the tiles with each ecstatic step. She stared up at the unlit ceiling of the bathroom and praised herself. She could feel the fear inside receding, curling up like dehydrated vines.
“Bon will be so happy when she finds out!” Quickly, Lyra scooped the stringy remains of the mouse into one hoof and dashed through the dimly lit house. Only her crazed, foal-like laughter broke the silence as she came into the bedroom she had shared with Bon Bon.
Throwing open the closet door, Lyra pushed the small chunk of destroyed mouse close to Bon Bon’s blank, yellow-hazed eyes. “Look, Bon! I did it for you, just like you always wanted! I’m not afraid anymore! Aren’t you proud? Now you can stay with me forever.”
Bon Bon’s corpse was bloated. Deep, gaping wounds oozed black, congealed blood from her swollen torso. Her coat appeared an ochre yellow from the flesh beneath beginning to rot. Her mouth was agape and hung strangely to one side, the betrayal and shock of how she died frozen on her sagging, swollen face.
Lyra grinned widely to her lover and placed the broken body of the mouse on Bon Bon’s distended, inflated belly. She leaned in and planted a soft kiss against one discolored cheek.
“I’m not afraid anymore, Bon. I’m not afraid.”
