Ca clop. Ca Clop. Ca clop.

The sound of the ghastly white complexion of the horned, purple haired equine was stunning, a swirled lop-sided mane seemed to fit the wavy figure that was this mare. Eyes of curiosity and awe filled the path, sticking out like a 40 ton gastrophant in the middle of ponyville.
The surrounding woods hovered over the pristine mare's shoulder seemingly laughing at her for coming here.

Deep Everfree forest.

Finally the legs of the equine stopped ears perked and shoulder tense and full of force, ready to run. Turning her head she saw it.

The figure was in no way evil, maybe it had been a certain level of why and how did it get here. It was like her, only different. A certain brown that you see when you look down, the dirt just under the surface of that ground. The moist brown equine stared at her with eyes, eyes the color of oblivion when it consumes everything and spits out anything black and glossy. Maneless and tailless it continued to stare. The awe in the white equine's eyes grew as fear began to omit from her body, she didn't know what the thing was. To her it was danger.

Starting to slowly take a step back she saw it slam a hoof on a rock, Clack! CLack! CLAck! CLACk! CLACK! The hoof progressively slammed it harder and faster until it hit a final time. Smelling fear the docile looking it twitched towards its lips. Slowly opening it's mouth it revealed long gnarled, twisted, disgusting yellow fangs the seemed to unsheathe from deep inside the monsters gums. It let out a scree of hunt before it jumped, it's prey tripped.
"AHHH!" The white seamstress jolted awake, the fear slowly feel, that was until she started hearing the noise, those hooves on a rock. Slowly turning her head to look.

Clack!

The window at the end of her bedroom slammed again causing Rarity relief as she shuffled out of bed. Even in her drowsy state did she walk like a mare of the upper class (though her hair was unkept and messy from sleep).

Click! Was the latch. It went into the hinge made to lock the two windows together. Letting out two soft laughs she started to lift her hooves to turn when it sounded again.

CLACK!

Was it the window? No she had just closed it, frigid as a stone she started to turn her neck towards the entrance of her vast workroom-bedroom and her mannequins. Turning it forward again he felt a heavy, rank smelling breath. Her blood ran to the south tundra and even deeper into her floorboards.
"SCREE!"

It jumped. Leaving Rarity under its complete control. Eyes of pure oblivion were filled with bloodlust as the seemed to gleam a eery red inside the blackness of its eyes, and it's soul.
Watching the gnarled fangs come down upon her was possibly more painful than the tearing her muscles, veins, and skin. Blood poured into every crack and cranny of the floor boards and Rarity seemed to scream, seemed. But the creature named it had already sunk their fangs into the soft and delicate white flesh of the mare's neck.

Blood gurgled from the mouth as it started to well up in her throat. Tugging upwards it pulled out the vocal cords and wind pipe of the seamstress.

It let out a scree of victory. No one except the younger one would know. Young meat for later.

Lapping at the mare's still warm and dripping veins for blood it seemed to go to heaven with the taste. It wanted more.

That was a different story though. A story of demons and the want for blood and taste for killing a hunting demon. It always is.

Author's Note

Mr. Flare: The Idea for this came from a Video from Youtube, though the Video has a more light ending. If you want to watch it, Click Here

Reality Is a Nightmare

Concept by: Cromegas_Flare

Written by: The Book of Grim

Edited by: Cromegas_Flare and Facade