Regarding Terror

by Harpica

Rating: everyone
Tags: Dark
Length: 705

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2011-10-07 22:00:00 UTC

A Rarity

For Aoife

(Authors note : I would NOT recommend playing that song while reading, it's far too upbeat.)

Another day, another deadline; such is the life of a fashionista.

Rarity had been up all night slaving over a dress for none other than her majesty, Princess Luna, for the next Grand Galloping Gala.

She looked at the dress she had produced, and was contented for the time being.

She tried to stumble over into her bedroom, but only made it a few steps from her sewing machine before falling onto the ground.

She fell asleep.

Rarity was awoken by the clip-clop of hooves all around her, she blinked a couple of times to clear her vision and see what she thought would have been the Cutie Mark Crusaders running amuck in her boutique, but was only confused when the tell-tale sound of trotting hooves came to a stop.

She looked around, studying her surroundings; the first thing she noticed was that it was dark.

Far too dark.

It had to be only one, maybe two PM?, Yet the inside of the boutique was very dim, as if the only source of light was was a candle in the centre of the room, which there wasn't.

She could feel warmth on her back, almost as if a distant sun was behind her, shining in a warm welcoming light, a beautiful celestial glow.

The warmth had to be coming from the kitchen.

She turned to make her way there, when there was a bright white flash of brilliant magical light, which blinded the white unicorn temporarily.

When she regained her vision, what she saw made her scream.

The entire boutique was bathed in a crimson red, the place was a wreck with clothes strewn about, scorched fabric thrown around the room, black stains of unknown origin were splattered across the walls, and the smell of blood in the air was thick.

Her attention was drawn downward as she felt a thick warm liquid flow past her hooves.

She knew exactly what it was.

She vomited, bits of mushy bread and undigested bits of daffodil covered a small portion of the floor.The mere thought of her own vomit made the usually formal and classy mare attempt to vomit again, only to find herself dry heaving with a horrible pain in her stomach.

Her attention was drawn once again to the kitchen, the thick red liquid flowing freely from the room.

She couldn't see directly into the room, she had been standing in almost the same spot for the whole ordeal. She was only able to make out the door frame, and maybe a bit of her stove, although the darkness of the room made it hard to tell.

What was clear though, was that there was blood flowing from the room, and she was now aware of the extremely dull, barely noticeable crimson glow coming from the kitchen.

It seemed to pulse to an extremely dim intensity to a more noticeable sheen with each breath she took.

She took her first steps; falling to the ground with a sickening crack of her right hindleg, she started convulsing and went into spasms, shaking uncontrollably as the flow of blood rapidly sped up.

Her mind was screaming, the pain was unbearable, every muscle in her body was tensing and seizing up.

A huge black hoof suddenly came down in front of her face.

"Game over."

Another hoof came down right onto the side of her head, crushing her skull and killing her instantly.

That's when she woke up.

She woke up screaming, vomit quickly rising from her stomach to silence her and make a mess of the boutique..

It had all felt so real, every bit of pain she felt she couldn't take, but was forced to live through it. The strong smell of blood still seamed fresh in her nostrils. She could even taste it it her mouth, blood.

It was warm and sickly, and made her light headed.

Rarity had been having this dream for the past couple of weeks, she didn't know what it meant, but if one thing was sure it was that she needed help.

Something she wouldn't care to admit.