Wednesday, January 9th, 1003 A.B.

Once again, I must report a lack of progress within my research of the daydreams. After spending much of yesterday combing through the shelves of the Royal Canterlot Library, I found myself not any closer to understanding the visions than I was when I first arrived in Canterlot the day before. After searching through the entirety the library's psychology section, I inquired to the librarian if any books were not available. Upon being informed there were, being the librarian of Ponyville, I set up an inter-library loan for the books as soon as they were checked in. Finishing that, I made my way to my parents' house in Canterlot's residential district.

Once I arrived at their house, my parents, Spike, and I went out to an up-and-coming bistro, Of Mice and Minestrone, a restaurant already famous for its Gryphonian delicacies, to celebrate my mother’s upcoming birthday. The evening started out splendidly, with all of us enjoying one of the restaurant’s fine pony-friendly renditions of High-Gryphonian appetizers. Unfortunately, the night soon ran to ruin after my father discovered a rat in his pasta. A rat still living, might I add. It should suffice to say that after the fiasco that followed, my family will never return to that restaurant again. After managing to salvage what was left of the night with a homemade meal, my father and I decided, before turning in for the night, to make it up to my mother by taking her out to a different restaurant sometime in the future.

This morning, bidding my parents farewell, Spike and I departed on the 10 o’clock train to Ponyville. Upon arrival in Ponyville at 11:34 a.m. I made my way to the Golden Oaks Library, and more importantly, my laboratory underneath. Once within, I began prepping my equipment for the first round of the multitude of tests which were to be performed. As there were three different methodologies (these being psychoanalytical, thauma-neurological, and chemical) that the tests would operate under, I made sure that the laboratory was equipped for each one properly. After the preparations had been completed, I ascended the stairs for a quick lunch and to inform Spike that I was not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day.

As I am the Element of Magic, and as it is also my personal talent, I began with the tests within that respective field. As everypony knows, magic is an intrinsic part of our world: all of nature contains magic, and all creatures within nature unconsciously draw that magic into themselves, we ponies being no exception to that rule. But between unicorns and the other two pony races, this is where the similarities end. As opposed to pegasi and earth-ponies, who are constantly depleting and replenishing their magical reserves unconsciously, unicorns, upon reaching the maximum capacity to hold magic within themselves, they cease to draw in any more until they make a conscious effort to exert the magic within them. When a unicorn uses “their” magic for a spell, the process in which they draw magic out of themselves, is a three-part endeavor:

First, magic is drawn from a unicorn’s reserves into their corpus callosum, which, unlike the other two pony races, where it only serves to connect the right and left sides of the brain, also functions to transfer magical energy from the reserves into the brain.

Next, the magical energy is then directed into the prefrontal cortex, the center of the executive functions of the brain, which includes magical manipulation. It is there that the brain modifies the magical energy to the desired effect of the caster.

Lastly, the now repurposed magic is drawn out of the prefrontal cortex through the unicorn’s horn and is applied to the world around the caster. Once the intended action is performed, the corpus callosum ceases to draw magic from the unicorn’s reserves and any residual magic disperses back into nature.

If the cause of the visions is of malicious magic, it would be revealed through the application of a theurgic-cognitive mapping test, a process in which the magic being applied for spell-use is traced through a unicorn’s brain. In doing so, I can isolate where magical impurities might originate from within the three areas of spell execution.

*****

Having finished my lunch, I stepped back down into my laboratory at 1:25 p.m., and began readying the mental imaging device (an altered version of the machine I had used on Pinkie when I had first discovered her unique “Pinkie Sense”) for the first of the theurgic-cognitive mapping tests I would be utilizing it for. After making a few last adjustments to the machine, I strapped the attached headgear onto my head and activated the device. When the the machine hummed to life, I activated my magic, and began to perform simple levitation spells on wooden blocks I had brought into the laboratory earlier. After five consecutive minutes of levitating the blocks I switched to altering their physical features, such as coloration and shape, and continued doing that for another five minutes before I once again changed the desired spell and began transforming the objects into forms different from their own.

This process of performing different spells went on for a little over three hours before I grew tired from constant magical manipulation, at which point I stopped to take a break. Removing the headgear from myself, I made my way over to where a pile of recently ejected scan sheets lied on the floor. Picking them up with my hoof, I looked them over carefully, searching for any evidence of magical impurities within my mind. To my surprise, I found nothing abnormal, aside from a heightened amount of magical residue. This was not out of the norm though, as the amount of residue is directly proportional to a pony's magical abilities.

Reviewing the scans a second and third time having done nothing to change the results, I began prepping the mental imaging machine once again. Once having completed the preparations, I glanced over at the clock near the stairs, and saw that the time was 3:32 p.m.

Stepping forward to the center of the room, I started strapping the headgear to my head again when I heard a commotion coming from the upstairs floor. Just as I was about to place the headgear down and investigate what was going on, my pegasus friend, Rainbow Dash, burst through the door, followed by a panicking Spike.

“Rainbow, Twilight said she didn’t want anypony to bother her!” He shouted as Rainbow flew directly at me, seemingly with the intent to crash into me.

Anticipating the worst, I clenched my eyes shut as I steeled myself for impact. After a few moments of waiting for the expected bodily harm to arrive, I opened my eyes to the sight of Rainbow’s magenta irises only a few centimeters from my face. Jumping back only a miniscule amount, but certainly not squeaking in fright, a natural reaction to having one’s personal space invaded, I was met with my prismatic friend’s raucous laughter. While I was waiting for Rainbow to be finished with her personal amusement, Spike approached me with a downcast demeanor.

“Sorry, Twilight,” he began, his eyes fixed upon the floor at my hooves, “I know you’re busy and you told me to keep everypony out, but-”

“There’s no need to be sorry Spike,” I reassured him, raising his chin with my hoof, “you tried your hardest at what I told you to do, and I was taking a break anyway. Unfortunately,” I continued, taking off the headgear as I focused my attention at the guffawing pegasus in front of us, “some ponies just don’t seem to be able to respect others’ privacy all that well.”

“Aw, relax Twi, you’re acting like I actually hit ya’!” Rainbow stated, dismissing my accusation with a wave of her hoof. “Wait a minute,” she paused, looking close at my head. “You have a bruise under your horn! Somepony did hit ya! Who was it? Where is she? Why, when I find her-” my cerulean friend began as she flew up in the air, mock boxing with her hooves.

“Rainbow!” I shouted out, cutting her off, “nopony is to blame! I just hit my head, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry…” she muttered sheepishly, descending back onto the lab’s floor.

“It’s fine, Dash. Now, I’m rather busy, so what do you need me for?” I queried as Spike climbed up the stairs, leaving the laboratory to the two of us.

“I’m here on official business!” Dash announced, her previous abashment dissipated, “the Cake’s are having a party to celebrate the Sugarcube Corner’s ten year anniversary, and they’re inviting all of Ponyville! Pinkie’s busy with baking and stuff, so she asked me to fly over and tell you about it!”

“Gee, I don’t know Dash, I just got back from Canterlot this morning, and I’ve been rather busy all afternoon. And I also have to go to bed early to open the library…” I trailed off, trying to think of a way to weasel out of attending another one of Pinkie’s parties.

*****

Now, it is not that I dislike Pinkie Pie or her parties, she’s one of my dearest friends, and she throws the best parties in Ponyville, if not all of Equestria, but there is a reason why the phrase “too much of a good thing is bad” is still in use today. Even the best parties can become a little tiresome when they’re held two-to-three times a week. And after having to deal with the fatigue and mess that comes after such events too many times, I’ve become a little hesitant when asked to attend Pinkie’s celebrations.

*****

“C’mon Twilight, it wouldn’t be the same without you!” The athletic pegasus stated, lifting off into the air, “you were gone for a few days, me and the girls wanna catch up a little!”

“Are you sure that we can’t meet up at a later date?” I insisted, looking up at the mare circling around my head, “I’m sorry Rainbow, but I really don’t feel like hanging out with you girls tonight.”

“Well… Okay Twilight,” Dash said, looking downcast as she sunk back down to the floor, “sorry for bugging you. I guess I’ll head back to Pinkie and tell her you’re not coming.”

“Wait, Rainbow,” I started, realizing the effect my wording had on my friend, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No, it’s alright Twi, I know you’re busy and stuff,” the polychromatic mare stated, trying and failing to give me a chipper grin, “I’ll see you around, alright?” She turned around, and slowly started trudging up the stairs.

“Wait!” Rainbow turned from her ascent on the stairs at my shout, “I’m sorry Rainbow. I’ll see you at the party and make it up to you, okay?”

“Really?” Dash asked, her face lighting up upon receiving my affirmative nod, “awesome! The party starts at 5 o’clock in front of the Sugarcube Corner. See you there!” She grinned as she flew out of laboratory’s door.

Sighing, I glanced at the clock, and saw that the time was 3:41. I contemplated trying to squeeze in some more testing time for a moment, but decided against it. Cleaning up the laboratory, I placed various testing apparatuses back in their proper places and collected the results and locked them securely in the safe I kept under the stairs. Once finished, I ascended the stairs to the library’s main floor and shut the door behind me, locking it with a flicker of my magic.

After informing Spike that we’d be attending the celebration later that evening, I proceeded to freshen myself up. Finishing that, I spent my time going over the library’s records, noting in my mind which of Ponyville’s residents were late in returning their books on time.

Soon enough, the time to head over to where the party would start had arrived. Gathering Spike, I exited the library, flipped the sign to closed, and made my way to Sugarcube Corner. It soon became apparent, by the increasing amount of ponies the closer we got to the local bakery, when Dash had said that all of Ponyville was invited, she hadn’t been joking. By the time we had reached the main crowd situated in front of the Sugarcube Corner, the Cakes were nearly finished with what I believed was the celebration’s opening speech. My suspicion was soon confirmed when the Cakes announced in unison:

“We declare the Sugarcube Corner Ten Year Anniversary Festival open!”

The crowds soon dispersed in different directions, some going inside the bakery, while a large percentage instead headed in the direction of the market district nearby. Opting to follow the main group of ponies, Spike and I headed after them, and soon found ourselves to be in what appeared to be a marketplace-turned-festival ground. There were food stalls all about, but instead of their usual fare, vendors peddled sundry treats and snacks. Alongside those were situated the stands of craftsponies, featuring their assorted knick-knacks and wares. Buying a bag of popcorn for Spike and a couple roasted sunflowers for myself, we wandered further into the transformed market, watching the various performers display their acts. Eventually, with the sun soon to set, Spike and I had our fill of the market’s entertainment, and were making our way back to the Sugarcube Corner, when, literally out of the blue soared in Rainbow Dash, landing right in front of us and causing Spike to fall off my back in surprise.

“There you two are!” She exclaimed as Spike got to his feet, “I was looking all over Ponyville for you two! C’mon, the rest of the girls are waiting for us at Sugarcube Corner,” she continued, beckoning us in the bakery’s direction. We soon arrived at its door, and upon entering, were greeted by the self-proclaimed Ponyville’s Premier Party Pony, and one of my closest friends, Pinkie Pie.

“Hey there girls!” The ever-bubbly mare proclaimed, “the other bearers are waiting at the big corner table. I’m a little busy with other customers at the moment,” she waved her hoof, indicating the packed room behind her, “so I’ll sit down with the rest of you soon!”

Hopping off to see to another customer, she left Rainbow Dash to lead Spike and I through the crowded room to a large table in the corner, at which sat the other three bearers of the Elements of Harmony, my closest friends: Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity. I took the seat to the right Applejack while Spike claimed the seat in between Applejack and Rarity, with Dash situating herself between Fluttershy and I.

“Hey, Twi,” Applejack said morosely, glancing at my injured forehead before returning her attention to the chocolate shake in front of her. “Ah see y’got yourself dinged up too, huh?”

“Yes, I hit my head on the train ride to Canterlot. What happened to you, Applejack?” I asked, noting her bandaged barrel with concern.

“Hurt myself preppin’ for the party,” the apple farmer replied, glumly taking a sip out of the shake’s straw. “Now I’m not supposed to do anything strainin’ for the next few days.”

“I understand what it’s like, not being able to perform at your fullest, Applejack. If you ever want any help on the farm, I’m here to help,” I offered, patting my orange friend on her shoulder.

Smiling over at me, Applejack replied, “thanks Twi, that means allot to me.”

“And I can assure you, Applejack, that the same sentiments are expressed by the rest of us as well,” interjected Rarity, “now, what happened to you, Twilight? How did you hurt your head on the train?”

“Well,” I began, “it all started when I tried to get off the train at Canterlot Station...”

****

While I described my unintentionally extended trip, I opted not to inform my friends of my current macabre predicament. I chose to do this in order to not worry them all, though, if the visions persist, or whatever that is affecting them proves to be too difficult to handle by myself, they will be the first one’s I’ll come to for help. Finished with her rounds, Pinkie showed up just as I finished my account, bringing with her a few sapphire sprinkle cupcakes for Spike and a strawberry and daisy sundae with chocolate sauce, my favorite, for me. The other Element bearers were kind enough to fill her in on what had occurred to me during my Canterlot trip while I was preoccupied with eating my sugary dinner.

*****

“Wow, you really got banged up, didn’t ‘cha, Twilight?” Pinkie commented as the girls finished informing her on the reason behind my current state.

Placing my now-empty sundae glass on the table, I responded, “that’s one way of putting it, Pinkie. Thankfully, I can now use most minor spells without causing a headache, though unfortunately, the more complicated spells like teleportation are still off-limits."

“Well, it sounds to me like you’re still in need of a cheering up! You and Applejack both!” Pinkie stated, pointing her hoof in the air, “and I know just the thing to cheer you up!”

Suddenly, the energetic baker hopped up onto the table, and shouted at the top of her lungs:

“Everypony, have I got news for you! This night, right here in Ponyville, we’ve got a live concert, featuring none other than DJ PON-3 herself! The real celebration starts tonight at 10 o’clock sharp in front of Town Hall! Spread the word around, and everypony be there!”

Getting down from the table as the room erupted in cheer, Pinkie grinned at the other members of our group, “it’ll be just the thing to get you two out of your funk!” Leaving the table, she continued, “I’ve got to head over to the market and announce the news to everypony there. Rainbow, you go with Twilight and Applejack and make sure they don’t try to sneak away, alright?”

“You got it Pinks!” The prismatic pegasus exclaimed, giving Pinkie a military salute, “they’re in good hooves!”

“Roger!” The bubblegum-pink mare returned, giggling as she hopped out the door, “roger... why do ponies say that anyway?”

Turning to Applejack and I, Dash said, “well, you heard the mare! You to are getting your party on tonight!”

“Ah really don’t think that’s a good idea, RD. Ah have to get up early tomorrow to work the farm.”

“It’s the same for me, Dash, I have to open the library,” I added.

“First off, you’re not even supposed to be straining yourself Applejack, nevermind working the farm, and secondly, everypony’s gonna be there! Also, both of you should know by now that anypony who attends Pinkie’s late-night parties spends the entire next morning sleeping it off,” she continued, adding, “so there’s no point in opening the library early if nopony’s gonna be awake anyway, Twi!”

“Still, I don’t know if I’m really up to it…” I trailed off, not sure as to what I should say.

“Ah’m gonna have ‘ta agree with Twi on this one, RD, we’re both just not feelin’ up to it.” Applejack added, picking up the loose end.

“Which is why me and Pinkie want to get you two out to this party! You girls have had a pretty rough time recently, and all me and Pinkie want to do is cheer you two up,” Dash finished with an earnest smile.

“Well, if it means that much to ya Rainbow,” Applejack smiled, “ah guess I can go to this party of yours.”

“Alright!” Rainbow cheered, turning to me, “what about you Twi?”

“... Oh fine, I’ll go too,” I replied.

“Awesome! You two are gonna have the greatest time ever!” Dash declared. Turning to the other two members of the table, she asked, “what about you girls? Do you want to come also?”

“Oh, no thank you Rainbow, I’m not really interested in the concert,” Fluttershy piped up, “I think I’m just going to head home and get some sleep.”

“The same for me, Rainbow dear,” Rarity chimed in. “I’ve been feeling a little under the weather recently, and I should probably head home to rest.”

“Hope you feel better soon Rars,” Dash replied as the alabaster unicorn and butter-shaded pegasus got up and made their way out the door. “Both of you get some good sleep tonight!”

Glancing up at the clock near the door, Dash turned back to Applejack and I, “we should probably get going now if we’re gonna get a good spot for the concert.” Getting up from her chair, the cyan daredevil continued, “it’s nine now, and I don’t know if you girls do, but I know for certain that DJ PON-3 shows fill up fast.”

“We’ll take your word for it sugarcube,” Applejack commented as she and I followed Dash out the bakery’s door and into the night.

****

Large groups of ponies were already heading towards Town Hall when the three of us stepped out onto the lantern lit Main Street, and by the time we arrived there was already a large crowd filling up Town Square. Built close to the top of Town Hall was what appeared to be a circular stage, upon which rested various dj equipment and speakers. Working her way through the crowd, Dash pushed us near to the front of the mass, telling Applejack and I that if we got any closer, we would not be able to hear anything for a week after.

*****

As the hour passed, the number of ponies amassed continued to increase, until the entire Town Square was packed full of Ponyville’s population. All at once, the stage perched high atop Town Hall’s spire was illuminated, revealing none other than DJ PON-3 herself, situated behind her turntables.

“Are you ponies ready to rock?!?” The electric-maned discjockey shouted out. Met with a resounding yes, she responded, “then let’s get this party started!”

The music that followed soon after was at best super-projected noise. I suspect that everypony at the party would have received a fine for noise pollution would it have not been for the fact that nearly all of Ponyville was in attendance. The “music” barely contained a blatant farce of a melody, much less harmony; the bass that blasted out of the speakers shook one’s very hooves; the volume was so high that one couldn’t even hear what somepony next to you was saying even if they shouted it; and everypony was caught in such a condensed mass of writhing bodies and limbs that bumping into somepony occurred at an inevitable, and high, frequency.

Yet, despite all this, I found myself enjoying the party greatly: I danced alongside my friends; shouted and whooped in unison with the crowd; and enjoyed moving in time with the beat resounding around and within me. I enjoyed myself so greatly, that it took me a while to notice that a familiar unpleasant tingling was spreading across my spine.

Once I had realized that the sensation prickling along my back was the same as the one that had assailed me two days ago in the Royal Canterlot Library, I was filled with terror and immediately began trying to force my way out of the crowd. All at once, the jubilant throng that I had moved with became a shoving horde, blocking me in on all sides with an impenetrable wall of fur and flesh. I attempted to teleport myself out of the throng, and was painfully reminded that I had yet to fully recuperate from my misbegotten train ride to Canterlot.

Now with a throbbing headache alongside the ever-spreading itch to contend with, I looked around, searching for my friends, only to find that Applejack had been pulled away from me by the crowd, and Dash was flying high above the tossing mass of ponies with the other pegasi. Shouting to them was to no avail, as my words were smothered by the omnipresent bass. Again trying to push my way out of the shoving multitude proved fruitless, for as the itch increased in pressure, my attempts at escape decreased in strength.

Desperate to flee the square, I looked up at the stage, planning to damage the equipment with a well-placed magic bolt, and in doing so, stop the party and make my escape. As I was gathering magic within my horn, I noticed that high above the stage hovered a darkened raincloud, near-perfectly blending in with the night sky. Just as I was about to fire the magic shot, a lightning bolt sprung from the raincloud with a large thunderclap, striking one of the large speakers atop the platform. Startled, I reared back as I released my magic, causing the magic bolt to veer far above its intended path, and strike the cloud from which the lightning had originated.

Energized by my misfired magic, the cloud rained down a veritable lightning storm upon the stage, striking the equipment surrounding DJ PON-3, causing sparks and arcs of electricity to leap off the electrocuted machinery and strike her. Screaming in pain, the alabaster mare ran out from behind her destroyed turntables and scrambled to the edge of the platform to get away from the defective hardware. The disk jockey’s safety only lasted a few seconds, for right as she got to the edge of the platform, the lonely thundercloud above sent down one final lightning bolt upon a support beam right under her, destroying it, and the elevated stage’s stability with it.

The entire platform tilted forward, sending the dj and some of her equipment tumbling off of the stage and onto Town Hall’s roof. Screaming, DJ PON-3 tumbled down the crimson roof, smashing through both of the building’s balconies before finally crashing through the ground floor and into the basement below.

The poor unicorn’s cries of pain having provided me slight relief from the itch’s intensity, I was desperate to attain respite and charged forward towards where she had fell. The crowd parted before me, and I soon arrived at the hole the dj had created as she fell. I peered inside the dark space, but was unable to detect anything other than a faint moaning coming from far below. Unable to teleport myself into the room below, I charged through the Town Hall’s doors and spent what felt like an eternity running through the building in search of the door to the cellar. Finally, I found a trapdoor in the back of the archive room, and, ripping the door from its hinges, was greeted by the darkness of the basement.

Tentatively descending a few steps into the dark, I found an unlit lantern on the step below me, and, lighting it, made my way into the depths of the basement. Making way through the amber-lit maze of towering archive shelves and storage crates, losing myself in the parchment catacombs of Ponyville’s history. I searched desperately for the fallen mare, the ever-increasing ferocity of the itch reminding me that she had yet to die, when, out of the murky dimness, I heard a faint cry.

“Somepony,” a pained voice cried out, “please, anypony! Help!”

Spurned on by a sudden spike in the itch’s intensity, I raced my way deeper into the haze of the dusty room, my lantern shakily illuminating my surroundings as I sped by. Each cry for help was a beacon in the dark, and I soon found the source. Panting, I paused at an intersection of stacked crates, and heard a whimpering noise to the left. Whipping my head to the side, I saw, illuminated by the scant moonlight from above, the unfortunate dj. Near-crippled by the intensity of the itch, I slowly stepped my way closer to her. She had yet to notice me, as her attention was diverted to the world above.

“Help! Please! Can’t anypony hear-”

I set the lantern down with a large ‘clank’, causing the fallen musician to flinch in fright. She swung her head in my direction as I stepped back, far enough from the light that she couldn’t make out my features.

“Hey, you scared me there, mare. S’not cool to sneak up on ponies, y’know?” The dj said, giving a pained grin, “well, even if you did get the jump on me, can’t say I’m not glad to see that somepony came down to get me. I was getting worried that everypony had forgot about me!”

I, on my part, just stood there, breathing heavily. Under the itch’s ferocious assault on my body, it was hard enough to stand, let alone to speak. Surveying the mare, I noted that aside from the black singe marks that dotted her white coat, there were blue-purple discolorations that largely ran along her barrel and limbs, and also that her left foreleg was definitely broken, as it was oddly bent to the side below her knee.

“Well, aren’t you going to help me? I’m pretty sure I broke my leg, not to mention a few ribs along the way down, so I’m not getting out of here by myself.” When I did not respond, she continued, “has anypony ever told you that you don’t talk much? If it’s just me, I understand. A lot of my fans are usually struck silent when meeting me, but I can give you my signature later. Firstly, why don’t you give me a hoof and get me out of this creepy place, yeah?”

My continued stillness was obviously beginning to frighten the immobile unicorn, if the sweat trickling down her forehead was of any indication. Her speech became even more uneasy the longer she spoke to me, all the while not receiving an answer.

“C’mon lady! Well, if you are a lady - if you’re a stallion, I’m sorry I assumed!” Her speech grew worried, and not long after, she began to beg me to help her, “listen! You’ve got to help me! I’m sorry if I’ve ever snubbed you at a restaurant or something, I promise I didn’t mean it!” Her fearful eyes brimming with tears, glistening in the amber lantern-light as they rolled down her bruised cheeks.

“Please! Just stop giving me the silent treatment, I can’t-”

She looked up at the sound of wood cracking from high above, her eyes widening as another, louder, snapping sound came from the hole in the wooden flooring above. She turned back to me, and with renewed energy, pleaded to me;

“Please! Help me! One of my speakers is on the balcony a few floors up above us, and it’s about to fall! If you don’t move me, I’ll be crushed!” The panicking mare begged, her attention changing from the hole above to me every few seconds. All of a sudden, I heard the sound of wood breaking come from above.

The dj returned her attention to me, her frightened eyes fixed on my own as they glimmered with the lantern’s light. She reached out to me with her one operating foreleg, and pleaded, “please, for the love of Celestia! Save-”

She was cut short when a heavy speaker crashed its way through the floor above us and landed straight on top of the unfortunate mare, crushing her with its weight. As DJ PON-3’s bones snapped, her body flattening under her dj equipment, the same unforgettable euphoria that had occurred back in Canterlot returned, sweeping up the painful intensity of the itch and my conscious awareness in its blissful embrace. I was lost to both time and space in that state, with my last memory, being the dj’s blood-splattered forehoof sticking out from under the speaker, the only thing in my mind. All of a sudden, I was shocked out of my pleasurable trance by a sharp pain to the side of my face.

Instantaneously, I was gone from the darkened basement of Town Hall, and found myself back in Town Square, albeit, now soaking wet. Chilled to the bone by the figurative buckets of rain slamming down on my form, I plopped down in the muddy dirt, and heard a thunderclap erupt crack across the sky. Looking up, I saw pegasi speeding in and out of the stormy clouds high above, fighting to tame the storm.

“Twilight!” A voice from beside me shouted out, causing me to jump in fright. Spinning around, I saw that the speaker was Applejack, who was also drenched to the bone. “C’mon, Twi, we’ve got to get under some cover!”

It was then that I realized that we were the only ponies standing about in the middle of the square. Other ponies were scrambling about, trying to locate shelter from the torrential downpour pounding on our backs.

“Yeah,” a voice from above joined in, who I soon noted had originated from Rainbow Dash. “A freak storm blew in from the Everfree just a few minutes ago, and rained on our party,” she declared, looking up in frustration. “I need you and Applejack to get out of the rain while me and the other pegasi get ahold of the situation!”

Not waiting for any further conversation, the prismatic athlete pumped her wings and soared up into the rumbling mass of stormclouds above. Turning to me, Applejack yelled, having to make herself heard over the deluge of rain:

“You heard the mare! We hafta get out of the storm,” she continued to yell, turning around, she finished, “follow me!”

I galloped after the apple farmer as she headed towards the chain of stores that lined Town Square, bursting through the door of what I recognized to be Poney Jean’s Fabulous Manes and Tails. As I stood gasping for breath, Applejack and I were approached by the owner and proprietor of the aforementioned shop, Poney Jean.

“Mes chéries! Are both of you alright?” The powder blue unicorn asked as he hoofed us both towels to wipe ourselves off with, “terrible weather to have a party, non? Though, I will not complain, as the music was keeping me from my beauty sleep.”

“Bad weather, no doubt,” Applejack agreed, grabbing one of the offered cloths. “Thanks fer the towel, John.”

“It’s Jean, Mademoiselle Applejack. Jean.” He protested to the orange mare as I took the other towel from his magic, “but think nothing of it. A few other ponies have already come in to escape the rain, so it’s not a problem at all,” he said, indicating the other towel-clad ponies located about his shop. “Speaking of them, I should probably go check if everypony is doing fine.”

As the prancophone barber trotted off to another group of ponies, Applejack turned to me with a concerned look.

“Twi,” she looked, sitting down as she thought of what to say, “Twilight, you’re my friend, and ah would never want you to feel uncomfortable around me. Ah want to ask ya’ a question, and if you don’t want to answer it, ah want you to know that that’s alright, and ah respect your privacy.” She paused, looking me in the eyes, “Twi, can ah ask you somethin’?”

I took a minute to collect myself, and, easing myself down next to my blond-maned friend, gave a short nod.

“Twi, back at the party, what happened there?” She began, “when the first lightnin’ struck, it near-hit the musician up on top of Town Hall. Once more started comin’ down, Dash flew up there to save DJ what’s-her-name. While everypony else was either tryin’ to control the storm, or runnin’ for cover, ah found you weren’t next to me, and started looking for ya’.” The apple farmer stopped, taking a moment to take off her hat and start drying her mane before continuing, “ and when ah found ya’, you were just standin’ there, like nothin’ was goin’ on around ya’. Ah tried snappin’ you out’a it, ah tried shakin’, yellin’, and hollerin’, but nothin’ worked. Eventually, when ah slapped ya, you finally woke up. Sorry about that, by the way,” she added, looking away sheepishly.

Waving her off with a hoof, I replied, “don’t worry about it Applejack, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” Rubbing my cheek, I continued, “thank you for that, anyway. I’m glad you snapped me out of it.”

“And what is “it” anyway?” She questioned again.

“...” I remained quiet, not sure whether or not that I should tell her. If I tried telling a lie, as the Element of Honesty, she would’ve seen through it immediately, but I had no idea how she would react if I were to tell her the truth. Would she be disgusted with me? Would she tell our friends? The Princesses? Various scenarios played through my head, with the imagined situation worsening in each one.

“Twi?” Applejack asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Ya’ still with me here?”

“Y-yeah, I’m here, I was just thinking of a way to tell you about “it” without sounding like a freak,” I responded, trying not to stutter.

“Twi, ah will never think of you like a freak,” she said, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “You’re my friend, and if ya’ really don’t want ta’ talk about it, it’s fine with me. Ah respect that.”

“No, it’s fine Applejack. I understand your concern,” I replied, placing my hoof on top of hers, “it’s just kind of... hard to explain. It’s almost as if I go into a trance… the world, changes in a sense…” I paused, thinking of a way I could avoid telling her the explicit details of the visions without lying. “...From what I can tell from previous experiences, I imagine the world around me changing, but my body still stays where it is, frozen. Well, that is until somepony or something snaps me out of it, though, it doesn’t have to so forceful,” I joked, giving her a grin.

“Yeah, sorry about that, again. Ah gotta ask though, Twi, you haven’t been touching any of that smelling salt, have ya’ now?” She asked, giving me her own grin.

“Not since my academy days!” I responded, chuckling a little.

“Jus' checkin’! Ya’ never know with you intellectual types,” she chuckled with me, before pausing. Looking at me, with some of her seriousness returned, she continued, “so, you said this’s happened before?”

“Yeah, a few times before. They started a few days back, when I was pulling a few all nighters in a row to complete my presentation on the benefits of hydroelectricity. I think “it” may be the side effect of a prolonged lack of sleep, but I’m not sure.”

“Well, here’s hoping “it” goes away soon and stays gone,” Applejack smiled, giving me a warm shake on the shoulder.

“Hey girls! How’s it hangin’?” A dripping wet Rainbow Dash shouted, bursting through the shop’s door and landing on the tile floor below. Shaking herself like a wet dog, she soon was completely dry, whereas Applejack and I found ourselves in the same state we were when we first entered the mane salon.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that,” she stated sheepishly as we both started to towel ourselves off again.

“Don’t worry about it, RD,” Applejack sighed, “we’re gonna have to get wet again when we head home for the night.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here. We’ve got the clouds under control, and they’ll start to clear up in about thirty minutes,” the cyan pegasus corrected. “The pegasi are going around town telling everypony that, so I’ve got to go back out and head to the next place,” she continued, turning around and making her way to the door. “So I’ll, uh, see you girls later!”

And with that, she was out the door, a rainbow contrail fading fast in her wake. Turning to Applejack, I swallowed, and asked her:

“Applejack…” I paused, before continuing, “could you please not tell any of the girls about our conversation?” As she began opening her mouth in protest, I pressed on, “I know you’re not comfortable with keeping a secret, but I really would appreciate it if you were not to mention anything about this to the rest of our friends. I don’t want to worry them with something like this. You know we all have enough to worry about in this crazy town as it is, and I don’t want to add something to the pile. So please,” I pleaded, staring at her in the eye, “keep this a secret between us.”

My farmer friend sat there in front of me for a few moments, then responded, “well, alright. Ah won’t tell anypony about what we talked about. Ah won’t like it, but if it means that much t’ ya’, I guess ah will.”

“It does, Applejack. Thank you,” I said, giving her a grateful smile.

*****

We sat there, chatting about anything but “it” for the next half hour, waiting for the skies to skies to clear up. Once the clouds withdrew from Princess Luna’s night sky, we stepped out onto the muddy ground of Town Square. Bidding each other goodnight, we made our ways to our respective homes. Once inside the confines of the library, I tip-hoofed up the stairs and into my room, checking to see if Spike was in his basket. Thankfully, the rise and fall of his blanket indicated that he had done as I said, and had gone home to bed after we had left the Sugarcube Corner.

Quietly closing the door, I made my way into the cellar, and immediately began performing a multitude of the earlier mentioned tests upon myself, hoping to identify any traces of what had caused the most recent of the disturbing visions. Unfortunately, as of yet, any effort I have made tonight has so far yielded no insight into my affliction, leaving me as in the dark as I was when the visions first started.

This newest hallucination had followed in the path of those before it in that it involved the death of an unfortunate pony - all of whom so far are female, but that may just be because of Ponyville and Canterlot’s heavily female demographic - in some gruesome manner, that anypony, including myself, would find revolting. It goes without saying that even though I do not feel any sympathy of the sort towards to the unfortunate ponies during my visions, I immediately experience disgust towards what I imagined (and myself for imagining it) after I have broken out of my trance-like state. Any reflection on the matter at hoof disturbs me greatly, except, to my great befuddlement and worry, the pleasure I feel at their death.

First and foremost, I am a pony of very high morals, and seeing pain and suffering happen to anypony around me, whomever they may be, drives me to find a way to alleviate it as quickly as possible. Yet, in regards to the torment that I view inside the visions, I can only feel euphoria. I know that is wrong, and it is horribly depraved to think of it as anything but such, but, no matter how much I tell myself I shouldn’t, whenever I think back on the ecstasy I felt when the poor mares die, I can only think of it… in a disgustingly twisted sense of the word, fondly.

I know it’s wrong. I know it is wrong. But for whatever reason, I just can’t help it. The confusion I feel; it’s maddening! I have to do more tests on myself. I must determine what the origin of “it” is quickly, or who knows what darker developments I may make?

Thinking of “it...” I don’t feel that the name Applejack titled with it is appropriate. If I am to determine what this monstrosity within my mind is, I must first give it a name, and in doing so, gain some slight control over it, so that “it” doesn’t gain control over me. Perhaps… why not call it, “the Itch?” Yes, that’s a suitable name; the Itch.

I think the fatigue of staying up late may be getting to me, as it is… already 5:34 in the morning…

I think I shall continue the tests tomorrow later today. Despite my own personal worries, I still do need to open up the library every morning, so I shall be adjourning for tonight, and continuing the tests the following evening.

Goodnight and signing off,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

Whoof! 7 and a half thousand words? It's a Christmas miracle Charlie Brown!
Firstly, big shout out to Betarius for being an awesome prereader! Go check this one's stuff out!
Next, this is addressing you people reading this; I feel like I've kind of put the whole 'gore' part of the fic on the backburner. When I had started writing The Itch, it was just an excuse to write a gorefic, plain and simple. But now I've really started getting ideas on where to take this thing, and it may not be strictly a 'gore'fic now. There'll still be good ol' blood and gore in it, but the focus (for me, at least) is now Twilight and her deepening mental mystery. I hope you all don't mind that, but still I wouldn't mind your opinion on the matter.
Speaking of you people: thanks! Be it for reading/skimming over/favoriting/sneering at my fic. I really appreciate your interest in it.
Au revoir,
The Fruity Cousin