The Shining Descent

The Shining Descent

By: The Sentimentalism Brony

Chapter 4

A Nightmare for a Drink

Fluttershy was in the basement of the Overlook Hotel, maintaining the copious amounts of water heaters the building had. The process involved checking the temperature, and approximate voltage it was running at. For if the machines were to run at too high a voltage, the heaters would explode, sending the building, and whoever happened to be in it sky high. It didn’t matter if they had wings of not.

As she was checking and marking down the information for the water heater, she was also waiting on a load of laundry. The sheets that had been used for over three nights now, were having their routine wash, and needed to run a full cycle. So, as they washed she monitored the equipment of the old building. Turning a few dials and switches, Fluttershy changes the temperature of the third water heater.  She then changes the voltage output of one of the buildings generators, to better accommodate for the new draw of electricity.

Bringing herself back around the wide corner, she comes full circle and now stands at her, still in use laundry machine. As she stands there and waits, she can hear the swoosh, swoosh, swooshing of the bed sheets as they make their way around the center spindle. The bright white sheets bathing in a high concentrated bleach to clean up any dirt stored in the tight weaves of fabric.

“Ah! ...Ah! “

There was the sudden uttering of a slight scream, emanating through the hallowed halls. Fluttershy’s ear perked up instantly, springing to immediate attention. Was that Big Mac? She thought to herself. No. It couldn’t be.

“Hah! Ah!”

There was another scream,  which thundered down the halls, into the utilities room. Fluttershy, now,  began screaming herself. Not out of fear, but out of concern for whom it was. Galloping through the halls of the Overlook, Fluttershy yelled for Big Mac. “Big Mac? Big Mac, is that you?”

No answer.

She tried again.

“Big Macintosh, are you okay?”

She had now made it back up to the first floor, and was galloping into the large gathering hall Big Mac had been writing in earlier.

Arriving at the gargantuan doorways that led into the gathering hall, Fluttershy ran through them with incredible speed. Continuing her sprint, she ran through the whole of the gathering hall to the other side in less than ten seconds.

“Big Mac!”

Big Mac was stationed at his makeshift desk, typewriter loaded, fast asleep. He was having a dream; clearly it was a nightmarish vision full of terror and tribulation.

2…

“Apple?” Big Macintosh called out menacingly. “Fluttershy?”

Big Mac was walking down the blackened and blood red halls of the Overlook Hotel. He was carrying a shotgun, slunk on his back over his right shoulder. As he walked through the halls, he gritted his teeth like sandpaper. From how hard he was grinding them, the sound could be heard reverberating over a mile away.

Stopping the horrendous grinding motion of his jaw, Big Mac spoke again.“It’s okay you guys, no need to hide. I just want to play with you.”

And indeed play was what he wanted to do. Play with the splattered innards of Apple, or Fluttershy. Maybe he would even chop them up into fine pieces of mush to place into a blender, grinding them even further. And, perhaps when he’s done pureeing them he would pour the grotesque mixture into a small glass, and chug it down as if it were a milkshake.

…

Finally, after searching for what felt like an hour, he had found his son.“Ah, there you are, Apple. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Do you know where your mother is? I’ve been meaning to talk to her about something…Important.”

At the instant of hearing his father, Apple turned and bolted down the hallway.

“Where you going, Apple? Are ya’ lookin’ for ya’ mother, too?”

The question was obligatory. Of course he was looking for his mother. In the moment of being chased by your shotgun wielding dad, you tend to run for your mother. But what Apple didn’t know, was that he leading his father right to his mother.

“Running is useless, boy.” Big Mac said, his voice becoming increasingly growly, almost demonic now.

He continued to chase Apple down the hall, until they came to Room 237. Apple ran through the door with remote ease, where his father stopped for a moment. He stared at the door, looking into its absence, almost as if he remembered something there. Shrugging it off, Big Mac began to slide the door open slowly.

The door nearing full gape, Big Mac clopped into the room.

“Daddy’s home!” He exclaimed with his new demonic demeanor.

He walked through the suit looking for both, Apple and Fluttershy, but found nothing. That is, until he checked the far back room of the suit. Entering the room, he found both, Fluttershy and Apple holding each other, crying.

They were crying hard.

“Aw, na’ isn’t that just sweet. Little baby boy’s hidin’ from daddy with his mommy. You both’a makin’ me sick! Now get up and follow me! Now!”

The duo, reluctantly got to their hooves, and followed Big Mac into the main living quarters.

“Now both of you sit!”

They sat like cowering dogs, with their tails betwixt their legs.

“Now why are you trying to hide from your old man, Apple?”

Apple, now free to speak, spoke. “Because you’re scaring us dad.”

“Now what makes meso scary?” So scary was emphasized by the demonic demeanor once more.

“Well, you’re chasing mommy and me around the hotel. And you have that.” Apple rose his hoof up and pointed it towards the shotgun Big Mac had resting on his large back.

“What? This?” Big Mac said, lowering the shotgun into Apple’s face. “This little beauty here is a Remington shotgun, Apple.” Big Mac motioned to the blood red walls of his descent. “Capable of blowing you into a red messy mush, that would mainly become part of the eggshell colored walls.” He nudged the shotgun against Apples face. “Would you like to become part of the walls Apple?”

Fluttershy began to weep, “No,” loudly, causing all of Big Mac’s attention to become drawn to her.

“Do you want this instead, bitch!” Big Mac moved the shotgun in front of Fluttershy’s face, and smacked it into her flesh hard, bludgeoning her.

Retracting the barrel from Flutters face, a bruise could be seen starting out in her bright yellow coat, and she began to cry even harder.

“Dad!” Apple cried out. “Why? W-why are you doing this?”

Turning his attention back to Apple, Big Mac grinned a mischievous grin, his teeth beginning to show as he did so. They were jagged and sharp, almost as if they had been filed down into that shape with a hoof file.

“Why?” He repeated. “Because, I have to. The hotel told me to. It said, ‘Big Mac, the time has come. The time to claim the entity of your loved ones is here. If you consume their souls, you’ll become a more powerful being. Something, even the princesses would worship. Everypony would grovel at your hooves. All you have to do is kill them. Kill them and take their souls. Their souls are the key.’” There was an agonizing cloud of silence as Big Mac pointed the shot gun back over to Apple. “And I intend to take what is rightfully mine.” With the last uttering’s of his words, the trigger of the shotgun was pulled with the tip of his hoof.

BAM!

The shell was struck, and the pellets careened down the barrel, causing a flaring at the end of it. Releasing into the air, the pellets came into contact with Apple’s young, delicate flesh, tearing it apart. Blood, chucks of bones, and even some of his lungs left his dying body,  splattering and lodging into the wall. Seeing the life fading from his being was more than enough to cause Fluttershy to go into a state of hysteria, and she screamed harder than she ever had before.

“APPLE!”

Big Mac then uttered, “Shut up bitch,” before sending an accompanying blast from the shotgun into her face. The force of impact caused most of her face to shatter, rip, and tear away, turning into a splattered, mangled mess. The sight looked like something you would see only in a horror movie. Her skull was half fragmented, and most of her brain was displaced, caked onto the now red walls.

As he stared at the vision of what he had just done, created, Big Mac heard a voice calling his name. It was Fluttershy. She was calling his name in panic.

Turning around, the door frame turned blinding white, before the brightness overtook him.

3…

Falling to the floor, a loud gasp escaped Big Mac.

“What happened?” Fluttershy asks. “You were screaming bloody murder.”

Big Mac started flailing himself about on the ground. Fluttershy tried to pick him up, but was struggling.

“Honey…” Fluttershy finally got a grip on Big Mac, pulling him towards herself. “What’s wrong?”

Big Mac was still in a state of dazed confusion, as he continued to scream.

Fluttershy began her attempt to comfort him, by somewhat petting his mane and back.

He then finally spoke.

“I had the most…Terrible nightmare I’ve ever had in my entire life… It was the most horrible dream I could ever dreamed –“

“Well, it’s okay, it’s okay now… Really.”

He looked into Fluttershy’s eyes with a state of concern. “I dreamt that I…That I killed you and Apple. But I didn’t just kill you; I shot you guys, and then chopped your bodies up into little pieces.” Fluttershy continued to comfort him, while a state of confusion spread across her face. “Sweet Celestia. I must be losing my fucking mind.”

He began to cry.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” she said as she grabbed both his forelegs, starting to pull him up. “Come on. Let’s get you up off the floor.”

Raising him off the floor, Fluttershy placed him in his chair. Helping dust him off now, Fluttershy could hear somepony’s hooves clacking into the hardwood of the floor and she looked up. Her eyes meeting with Apple walking into the room caused her to panic slightly. She had to think of something fast.

“It’s okay Apple. Daddy just has a headache. Now, go off to your room and play, okay.”

But Apple continued to walk forward into the room almost lifelessly.

“What did I say, Apple? Mind what I say to you.”

And still, he continued to trot forward, as if something else had been driving him. Fluttershy looked back to Big Mac. “Let me get him out of here. I’ll be right back.”

Walking over to Apple, Fluttershy repeated pieces of her pervious statement, albeit broken somewhat.

“Apple, why aren’t you minding what I’m saying.”

As she reached Apple she could tell why he wasn’t responding accordingly. Looking to her son’s neck, she could see hoof imprints, suggesting somepony had attempted to strangle him. Her eyes went wide as she looked back over to Big Mac. “You did this, didn’t you?! You Monster… You did this!” She then started to shoo Apple in the direction of the staircase, so they could leave. But not before she could get out one more, “Monster.”

She and Apple then left the hall, leaving Big Mac to sit and contemplate what had just occurred.

4…

Big Mac, now walking down the long hallway that led to the dance hall, shook his hooves around in dismissive anger. He was now yelling out profanities, that would usually bother somepony. “Celestia damn bitch! Who does she think she is?! Telling me I did that to our son! Dumb Bitch!”

The screaming and profanities were beginning to tire out the robust stallion, as he made his way into the dance hall.

Walking into the dance hall it could be seen that the hall was still done up from the last grand occasion. There were great big tapestries adorning the walls, that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The images bore resemblance to the princesses, Celestia and Luna. The hall was also lined with an extensive amount of seating arrangements, that sat around one uniform dance floor. There also happened to be a stagnant bar sitting directly in front of him. Maybe the occasion happened to be the Great Ball? Perhaps not. Big Mac isn’t really the type of pony to go out dancing, especially in the public’s eye. He is a writer after all, and to a writer image is everything. Once you’re caught making a mockery of yourself, you career can go from prosperous and beneficial, to nothing in ten seconds flat.

Stepping up to the bar Big Mac took an awkward seat on the bar stool. “What I wouldn’t do for a drink right now.” He said out loud to nopony in particular. He then placed his forelegs  on the large glossy counter, laying his weary head in the clasp of his hooves as he did so. As he sat motionless, looking down into the shining surface of the counter, he heard somepony’s hooves clacking on the marble flooring. Fluttershy, he thought. Raising his head from its seemingly permanent perch, he came face to face with a stallion with brown colored fur. He also had a large black tuxedo on, covering his cutie mark. From all Big Mac could tell, the thing could have been a martini glass complete with an olive skewered from a toothpick.

“Hello, Mister Macintosh. Lovely evening today, isn’t it?”

Big Mac looked up to the bartender in bewildered amusement, before words began to flow freely from his muzzle. “Why yes it is, Mix-a-lot. Why, yes it is.”

Mix-a-lot approached the counter, and began to lean over it casually before asking the question that Big Mac was begging him to ask. “What’ll it be, sir?”

Big Mac leaned in further, completing the look of suspicion the two would make in a large crowd. “Well I’m sure glad you asked me that, Mix, I sure am.” Big Mac turned slightly to his left, creating an uncomfortable arch with his foreleg, and patted his side. As he patted his side a small rattling could be heard, echoing through Mix’s ears. “‘Cause it turns out I have 60 bits right here in my pouch.” Big Mac pointed his hoof towards Mix. “And I was worried they would be in there until next March.” Big Mac leaned forwards again, pausing for emphasis. “So here’s what: Let’s say you slip me some hard cider…A little glass… And some ice. You can do that can’t you Mix? You’re not to bust right now, are you?”

Mix-a-lot began to move from his stagnant position. “No, sir. Not at all.” Mix then turned around and picked up a bottle of cider, a little glass, and then placed them on the counter.

Setting the bottle and glass down, Mix bent over to pick the ice bucket up. Lugging the bucket up in his teeth, he places it on a slightly shorter shelf behind the counter.

“Good, Mix. You line ‘em up an’ I’ll knock ‘em back, one by one.” Big Mac pulled his pouch from his side as Mix began to pour his drink. “Working stallion’s burden, Mix. Working stallion’s burden.”Opening his pouch, he peered inside. The inside of the pouch was as barren as a nuclear wasteland. “Say, Mix. I’m temporarily light at the moment. How’s my credit in this place, anyways?”

“Your credit is perfectly fine, sir.”

Placing his empty pouch back by his side, Big Mac proceeded to speak. “That’s swell. Say, I like you Mix. I always like you. You were the best of ‘em… Best damn bartender…From Manehatten to Whinnypeg.”

“Well thank you for saying so.”

“No Problem, Mix.” Big Mac said as he stared at his drink, rotating the glass in his hooves, shaking it slightly, causing the liquid to swirl around. The ice colliding into the edges of the glass and themselves, making clinking sounds. Raising the glass up, he proposed a lackluster toast. “Here’s to 10 years on the wagon… And all the irreparable damage that it has caused me.” He then rose the half full glass to his lips, sucking the liquid into his maw. Big Mac made a face of content, as coldish-warm liquid caressed him, sliding down his esophagus, and into his awaiting gut below.

“Is everything okay, Mister Macintosh?”

“Things could be better, Mix. Thing’s could be – Pardon my language – A whole fuck lot better.”

Mix began to speak with remote concern overturning his voice. “I hope it’s nothing to serious.”

Macintosh tapped his now empty glass, gesturing for more alcohol before continuing. “Nothing serious… Just a little problem with the old…Sperm bank upstairs. Nothing I can’t handle, though. Thanks for your concern.”

“Mares, Mr. Macintosh. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

Big Mac, agreeing with the statement, rose his glass, slightly nudging towards Mix. “Words of wisdom, Mix. Words of…Wisdom.” He then took another chug of his drink, stirring it lightly after removing it from is wet lips. “I never laid a hand on him, for crying out loud. I didn’t. I wouldn’t harm a hair on his Celestia blessed hair, not a single one. I love that little son of a bitch. I’d do anything for him. Any. Fucking. Thing.” Big Mac paused again, beginning to flare up in anger. “But that bitch! As long as I live… She’ll never let me forget what happened.” Stopping for a second to look around to see if somepony else would hear their conversation, Big Mac continued to talk. “I did hurt him once, okay. But it was an accident. A completely unforeseen chain of events. It could have happened to anypony, Mix. Even your young colt. And it was 4 damn years ago! All I was trying to do was pull him up…”

5…

Galloping towards the dance hall, Fluttershy was yelling for Big Mac. “Big Mac, thank Celestia you here.”

Fluttershy approached him with great haste, almost completely out of breath. Gasping in panic she attempted to speak regardless. “There’s somepony else in the hotel with us. There’s some crazy mare in one of the rooms. She’s the one who tried to strangle Apple.”

Big Mac looked into Fluttershy’s eyes with an utter lack of general interest or concern. “Are you out of you fucking cotton-picking mind?”

“It’s t-true. Really. Apple told me… He went up to one of the rooms, and the door was open. He went i-inside, and saw this crazy m-mare in the shower. And… And she tried to…To, to…Strangle him.”

“Which room was it in.” Big Mac responded, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Room 237…”