Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

by Tealove

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Zecora, Main 6, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2750

Zecora's ghost story spooks the mane six.

It's a slumber party at the library for the mane six and Zecora! When Twilight's ghost story fails to impress and Zecora takes a turn, she spins at tale that nopony expects to hear. Now as they all fall asleep will they be able to separate fantasy from reality, or will their dreams be haunted by nightmares? Inspired by aisu-isme and her "Creepy Ponies" series on deviantArt. Pic by DawnAllies also on dA.

Published 2012-03-12 08:54:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-12 08:54:01 UTC

Tell Me A Story

The room was drenched in darkness, save the light of one solitary candle. Every now and then it flickered when a breath passed too closely and cast strange dancing shadows on the laden bookshelves. Six mares surrounded the candle: a pink earth pony munching popcorn and listening intently with wide blue eyes; a pale gray unicorn with rollers in her purple mane. Even the mud mask she wore could not hide the trepidation on her face. There were two pegasus ponies, one the color of a summer sky that listened with a rapt expression and the other, a timid thing the color of sweet butter who cowered under the wing of the blue pegasus. On the other side of the frightened pony was an orange mare who was clearly interested if not skeptical. To complete the group was a lavender unicorn. She sat closest to the candle so that everypony could see her face as she finished her tale.

“And when the other ponies found her, her hooves were nailed to the floor.”

“That's horrible!” Rarity shrieked.

“That's awesome!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed.

“That ain't even believable,” Applejack complained.

“T-t-that's really scarey,” Fluttershy breathed.

“I don't get it,” Pinkie Pie confessed.

“It's a ghost story,” Twilight explained patiently. “It's supposed to be horrible and scarey and unbelievable.”

Pinkie shook her head. “But there were no ghosts in it. How can it be called a ghost story?”

In the scant light, Twilight had all attention on her. “Well gosh,” she stammered. “I guess it really can't be.”

“If a ghost story is what you wish to hear, perhaps to me should you lend your ear.”

So silent that they'd all almost forgotten she was there, a beautiful zebra with golden eyes leaned closer in toward the light. Zecora looked from face to face, the edges of her lips curved upward in a sly smile. “When I was just a little sprite I heard a tale one dark cold night. Of dreams and wishes this was spoken, from one who wanted naught a token. He promised to give a hearts desire and spoke with such charm to admire. Sit back you ponies and listen well or the ghost will catch you in his spell...”

Maybe it was the heat in the room leftover from the summer day or the fact that it was so very late, but it felt to everyone as though the room had somehow gotten smaller, closer, and something hazy settled in around them. Twilight found herself letting her eyes slide closed. Zecora's words, the cadence with which the zebra usually spoke no longer sounded like a nursery rhyme for children. She was painting an image with what she said and Twilight could see everything as if she was actually there.

There was once a stallion of a rare musical talent. Any type of music and rhythm was something he could pick up on and imitate almost as soon as he heard it. It was a skill he was born with and not something anypony could have taught him. By covering his mouth with his hooves or moving his lips a certain way he could provide a beat for just about anything anypony would play. Ponies would stop as they passed if he was performing, the amazement on their faces giving him more joy than he ever thought was possible. Their attention became a deep craving for him, a drug that he needed to get through the day. And for awhile this drug was never in short supply. He was one of the most popular and sought after ponies around. But living in a town as small as he did the shine of his talent soon began to dull. Ponies weren't as enthralled with him as they used to be and the fame he so sought after became more elusive than he would have imagined.

Late one night when he was feeling particularly down he sat at the bar of a local pub with his head in his hooves. Only weeks ago he'd been the talk of the town. Now, nopony seemed to even know his name anymore.

“You're looking a little down, Beat Box.”

He looked up to see the bartender watching him. “You know my name?”

“Sure. You're the only pegasus pony in this town who does what you do. Kind of hard to not know you.”

Beat Box snorted and looked down into his half-empty mug. “Yeah? You're probably the only pony who does.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself, kid. Not everypony was meant for a lasting spotlight.”

“But I was!” He looked at the tender with glassy eyes. “I was born to be famous. I got my cutie mark the very first time I dropped a beat and now? Now nopony even notices when I do it anymore.”

The bartender raised a brow. “That's life. What are you going to do?”

“Anything I can.” Beat Box finished his ale and blinked drunkenly. “I'll do anything I have to no matter how crazy or how stupid!”

The tender glanced around; Beat Box was drawing attention with his loud exclamations. “Calm down, kid. You don't have to go that far.” He paused, waiting for the unwanted attention to go back where it was. Lowering his voice the bartender said, “I may know of somepony who can help you.”

Beat Box narrowed his eyes and quieted his own voice. “What do you mean?”

“He's kind of a wish granter if you know what I mean. Ponies tell him their heart's desire and if he thinks you deserve it, he grants it. Thing is, the ponies he chooses to help are never heard from again.”

“Why not?”

The tender shrugged. “This is a small town, kid. Once people get the very thing they want most in life, you think they want to stay here? I sure as heck wouldn't.”

With a suspicious gaze, Beat Box quirked a brow. “So why haven't you seen this mysterious wish granter?”

“Because this is my desire. I like living here with my family, knowing everypony by name and face, running my own business. There isn't much more I could wish for. But you? You could benefit from meeting him.”

“How much?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“How much does he charge?”

“That's just it. He does it for free. The hard part is getting him to deem you worthy. I know ponies who have gone to him with wishes of health, courage, truly noble things and they come back saying he turned them down. So it must not be an easy feat.”

Beat Box was silent for a moment, considering. If ponies asked this mysterious pony for things like health and courage and all he wanted was fame, what chance did he really have? Still...his curiosity was definitely piqued. “All right. Where do I find this wish granter?”

“Just take a walk, friend. He'll find you.”

“But how will he...”

“Trust me. Take a walk. It's a nice night for it.”

With pursed lips, Beat Box pushed his empty mug away. “Sure. How much do I owe you.”

“Not a thing, kid. Enjoy your night.” The mug was taken away and the tender watched as Beat Box lumbered down from his seat and headed outside. “Have a nice night,” the bartender muttered with a smirk.

Outside the night air was cool and refreshing. It was later than he thought it was and as Beat Box walked he realized the streets were almost empty. That bartender was crazy. There was no such thing as a pony that could grant wishes, let alone just magically know somepony was looking for him and where to find him. If the stallion had just wanted him gone all he had to do was say so. Still, he was a little happy to be out of the pub. There was already a pretty good chance he'd have a lovely hangover in the morning. Any more drinking and it would not have been pretty. With little to no faith in anything the pub stallion had told him, Beat Box turned down an alley way to head home.

And walked right into someone.

He flapped backward and touched a hoof to his snout. “Oh, hey. Sorry. I didn't see...any...pony. Hello?” Though the alley was dark there was still enough light from the moon for him to be able to make out shapes. And there was no pony in front of him. In fact, there was nothing in front of him but the dark passageway itself. “Ran into the wall, Beat,” he muttered to himself. He landed and shook his head. “Real smooth.” With a sigh he walked into the dark.

It took a few steps before he heard the sound of hooves behind him. The pegasus felt a chill run up his spine and he stopped. So did whoever was following him. He swallowed the fear rising in his throat and turned around. “Holy sh...” He fluttered back and gasped. It was definitely a pony behind him but he was stocky and tall with oddly shaped eyes that glowed a dim amber. “Who the hay are you?!”

“You were looking for me.”

His voice was deep and melodic, almost calming in an odd way. It made Beat Box peel himself off of the wall to stand before the taller stallion. “You're him. You're the wish granter.”

“You were looking for me.”

“Y – how did you know?” The stallion gave no answer and Beat Box just stared. Of course he wouldn't get an answer. “So what? Do I just tell you what I want?” Again no answer. Well, time to see if this was for real or not. “My wish isn't noble or generous or selfless. I used to be somepony. I was the type of stallion ponies would stop and pay attention to when I was doing my thing but now...now it's like I don't even exist anymore. I want them to notice me again. I don't want them to be able to ignore me. I want ponies to scream when they hear my beat.”

“That is your wish?”

Beat Box nodded feeling no small amount of shame. “I know how selfish it is. But it's all I want.”

The tall stallion blinked. “Very well. You shall have your heart's desire.”

With wide eyes, Beat Box looked up at him. “Seriously?”

“Go home and rest. When you awake in the morning your wish will be granted.”

“I don't even know what to say.” He scrubbed his hooves over his face with an incredulous laugh. “Thank you so...” But he was alone in the alley once again. Beat Box turned around, then around again and still there was no one else there. He couldn't find it in him to care. Suddenly all he wanted to do was get home and go to bed. Taking wing, he left the alley to make a beeline for his apartment. There he didn't even bother brushing his teeth before turning out the light. He lay back with his head against his pillow, his heart racing. In the morning all of his dreams would come true. It hadn't been hard to convince him at all! He'd have to go by the pub and tell the bartender just how easy it had been. Of course he'd have adoring fans trailing after him everywhere he went from now on. But that was nothing to worry about. Starting tomorrow, Beat Box would be a star.

“I don't get it. Again.”

Everyone looked at Pinkie Pie, who in turn blinked and looked right back at everyone else. “I thought this was a ghost story. That stallion sounded more like an angel or something than a ghost.”

“I don't know that I'd call him an angel,” Rarity disagreed thoughtfully. “Though that Beat Box reminds me some of our Rainbow Dash. Seeking nothing more than fame.”

Dash scowled at Rarity through the candlelight. “I want more than fame! I'm not that shallow, Rarity. Give me some credit.”

“She's right,” said Applejack. “She wants money, too.”

“SHHHH!,” Twilight hissed. “Let's let Zecora finish!”

Beat Box awoke with a throbbing head. He was never much of a drinker and because of it he was very much a lightweight. A hangover had been expected but nothing quite like this. It felt like his entire body was vibrating and the pain in his head extended to every limb of his body from the tip of his snout to his tail. He smacked his tongue in his mouth, cringing at the metalic tinge on his tastebuds. His jaw felt stiff, too. Then he remembered what was waiting for him. Fame. This hangover needed to disappear.

Throwing back his blankets, Beat Box tried to open his eyes but the light hurt. It was red and bright and made everything worse. And now the throbbing felt louder, closer somehow. Back hooves on the floor, front hooves, clunk. Clunk? Something metal had fallen. He tried to open his eyes again and stared at the wall ahead, trying to get some sort of focus. Why was it so red and why was this throbbing so crazy? Able to keep his eyes open after a few heavy blinks, he looked down to see what had fallen. What he saw was not what he expected.

Where forelegs of fur and flesh had once been were now long exposed metal appendages attached to metal hooves. He scrambled backward as if to get away from them and fell back onto the bed, his wings splaying out on either side of him. The loud throbbing only grew in decibel and when he screamed his voice did not leave through his mouth but came out as a loud robotic wail on both sides of his head. He turned in confusion and stared in horror at his wings. His beautiful wings that now had metal and mesh in them. He screamed again and again came the loud robotic wail. It came from the speakers in his wings. And the throbbing. It wasn't a headache from a hangover, it was a baseline. It matched his heartbeat.

Beat Box clamored off the bed and ran to the washroom to try and get a better look at himself. As soon as he looked into the mirror he wished he hadn't.

His eyes were no longer eyes but bright LED lights that spun and swirled in his sockets. The bottom of his jaw was nothing more than a metal trap that swung open and closed when he tried to talk. The fur on his throat was pulled back to reveal a metal esophagus that ended in a microphone jack. There were wires and knobs on his body that didn't belong. And he screamed again.

Running at full speed now, Beat Box exploded from his apartment out onto the street. As his heart rate accelerated so did the baseline in his speakers. Ponies out for a stroll in the warmth of the morning turned. And they screamed.

Beat Box got his wish. Nopony could ignore him, and nopony would ever forget him. Finally he had the fame he so very wanted.

Zecora finished and the dark library fell silent. Even Pinkie Pie had paused mid-nom to stare at the zebra. It was as though they'd all had their voices stolen from them. Finally, Fluttershy dissolved the quiet with a soft sob.

“Aw, sugarcube.” Applejack pulled the crying pegasus close and nuzzled her. “It was just a story.”

“Yes,” said Rarity with a nervous laugh. “Just a story.”

“Maybe we should call it a night.” Twilight cast a wary glance in Zecora's direction. Forcing a smile she added, “Don't forget, I'm making waffles in the morning!”

“I can't sleep now,” Fluttershy cried.

It was Rainbow Dash's turn to give her a comforting nuzzle. “You're between me and AJ, Fluttershy. You couldn't be anywhere safer.”

As the ponies snuggled into their sleeping bags and said goodnight to one another, Zecora lay her head down and closed her eyes, a smile ghosting across her lips. “Pleasant dreams to one and all. To sleep with you, do not stall. Though if you make a wish or prayer, be careful what you wish for there.”

One by one they fell asleep, Applejack being the last one after she made sure Fluttershy was all right and everyone else was safely tucked away. With a contented sigh she finally lay her head down and closed her eyes.