Living the Nightmare

by Hedzentails

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Tragedy, Dark, Human
Length: 2614

Equestria is a peaceful land. The very idea of eternal night is never thought of anymore. It wasn't always like that, and now one lucky human is going to find that out the hard way.

Equestria is a land where ponies live happily and where a lot of humans wish to be. It’s a peaceful place where the very idea of darkness, war and disharmony could not be thought of by anypony living out a blissful dream.
It wasn't always like this; not even remotely. A thousand years before a human even saw Equestria, there was the battle between two sisters to decide its fate; Eternal Night or land of Harmony.
And now, one lucky human will get to live in Equestria, however grim and terrifying it may be in this time.
But maybe there’s more to the idea of Eternal Night than he, and everypony else, originally thought…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-13 20:10:18 UTC

I: Beings of Destruction

-=-=-=-

I: Beings of destruction

-=-=-=-

The moon sat high in the sky, passively hostile towards all those that dared oppose it. The stars that surrounded it would occasionally flicker from existence, as if their life was being drained by the larger orb. This was ignored by three hooded ponies below, trotting somewhat hastily through the empty streets.

The leader of the trio was much taller than the other two who lurked behind her in the shade of the high stone buildings. Where they were sneaking around like the shallow creatures anticipating a slow and painful death they were, she trotted on with confident and majestic strides, causing her armoured hooves to tap loudly against the ground.

The ornately sculpted building ahead of them was their destination; the Grand Library of Baltimare had been generously maintained, even in this dark and violent time, and for that she smirked. Her enemy, the Princess of the Sun, cared more about her books than she did for the ponies who fought and bled in her service.

She reminded herself to have it burned down once she won this pathetic war.

The two underlings rushed forwards to push open the large oaken doors for their master, grunting under the strain. A light emanated from beneath the leader’s hood, and with a flash, a bolt of lightning shot towards the doors. It must have taken many years to perfect the thousands of intricate engravings, and she was disintegrating them all in a matter of seconds.

Her servants shrieked and leapt out of the path of her destructive power, but she ignored them, and, without hesitating, strode into the enormous chamber. As far as the eye could see, there were rows upon rows of books in shelves reaching up too far to make out. Truly, it was a sight to behold; all the knowledge of all pony-kind held together in one room.

“My queen, may we assist you in any way?” the closer of the underlings asked in a low and shaky tone.

“You will speak when spoken to, you worthless wretch,” she snarled in reply. She watched him flinch and recoil in fear, but spared him the punishment he was expecting. There would be time enough for that later.

She set off into the vast expanse of the room without another thought. She knew exactly what she was looking for, and she did not need some mongrel slave’s aid.

On and on she trotted quickly, staring up at the walls of books without losing focus of her navigation. She could hear her followers trying to keep up behind her, but they were even more meaningless now than ever.

All that mattered was finding that book.

She was close now, very close, to where she had seen it only once before, in a different life. Back then, she was forbidden from ever touching the thing, but now, she could do whatever she wanted, and she certainly intended to make full use of that privilege.

There.

She wasted no time snatching the book from its shelf with an aura cast from her horn beneath the hood and skimming through the pages to find exactly what she needed. She stopped at a page with illustrations of symbols and directions for their usage.

“Granite,” she snapped indifferently.

“Y-Yes, majesty!” the worthless slave, named Granite, replied shakily, appearing at her side in an instant.

“These symbols must be carved with the utmost care,” she shoved the book into his face with her aura, making him grunt with pain and reach up to rub his muzzle. “You will follow these instructions to the letter and you will do so quickly. Should a single carving be out by even the slightest, I will be carving them into your head. Do you understand?”

“I-I do, your m-majesty,” he answered fearfully, bowing his head and backing away. He examined the opened book and set to work.

“Marble,” she growled in the same indifferent tone.

“What do you need, your highness?” the other wretch, named Marble, asked obediently, bowing respectfully and without the fear his compatriot held of her.

“Begin the spell of summoning,” she ordered calmly, but with unquestionable authority. “And do not falter even once, for if you do, I shall be summoning your heart from your chest.”

“As you wish, your highness,” the servant said with an excessive amount of respect as he bowed. He closed his eyes as a pinkish glow illuminated his horn, and then he began to chant the necessary incantations required for such a powerful spell.

She stepped away, supervising the pathetic fools. As incompetent as they were, she knew they would not fail; this was the reason they were here and they knew the consequences of not reaching for success. They made swift work of their assigned duties; one etched symbols seamlessly into the ground with his hoof pressing on a sharp chisel while the other chanted without ever missing a beat as his horn sent out orbs of light which remained in the air where they were supposed to be.

It was such a shame that such talent would be used up and hurled away as garbage very soon. It was only few minutes before they allowed her to do so without any regret in her heart.

“We’re finished, majesty,” stated Marble exhaustedly, the magic taking his strength from him, bowing as much as he could for his queen. A coppery tang filled the air as his horn flickered with its final vigour and the book began to fall to the ground slowly.

“Good,” she said without any regard for his current state, “Give me the book, Granite.”

The stallion in question hurried over to her and held it before her devotedly, bowing his head in a state of panic. She took the book from him with her magical grip, his loyalty completely disregarded by her, and she examined the page even further, scanning over everything without faltering.

With a burst of light, the carvings in the ground filled with light. A circle of blue fire sparked into existence from the magic of the spell and the ingredients placed. A whooshing noise could be heard, as if all the air in the room was being sucked into one point.

A floating speck of grey appeared above the centre of the circle, and tendrils of darkness shot out from the carved symbols towards it. They flickered weakly and then went out entirely.

“What’s happening?!” Granite cried, his tone laced with terror. “What did we do wrong?!”

“We simply missed out the most vital ingredient, Mister Granite,” she replied, tone impassive. “Everything needs some degree of power to get it working, and this particular spell needs a soul.”

“What do you-”

Her horn shone again, and Granite flew into the air above the magical circle. He writhed and screamed as he realised his fate, but that didn’t stop her; nothing would stop her now.

There was a sharp crack that echoed in the library; the screaming servant arched back as his spine was snapped in half. What could only be called glowing shadows streamed out of every orifice in his body towards the grey speck, and as they did, he withered down to dry skin and bones. The last of the shadows flicked out from his wide open mouth and his rotten corpse crashed to the floor.

His hood had fallen off in his death throes; his eyes had turned black, his skin was completely bare and grey, and the look of terror remained on his features even in death.

The grey orb expanded drastically at the sudden feast of life force, and the other two stepped back as it began to thrum in rhythm, almost like that of a heartbeat. The surviving servant watched in awe as his brother’s sacrifice proved its meaning; a dark hole appeared in the centre of the giant orb. His superior grinned maliciously.

“I call upon thee, demon,” she recited. “Reveal yourself to us; teach us of your power.”

And something flew out of the portal; it was large, deformed, and yelling bloody murder.

-=-=-=-

The room was lit by the illuminated screen the man was sat in front of. He was hunched over his desk as his fingers played over the keyboard and his eyes scanned every detail in front of them. The on-screen clock told him that it was exactly three forty seven AM. He had been awake for hours, tapping away at his keyboard, determined to complete his task.

Of course, that task was duller than watching paint dry, and that, along with the lateness of the hour, was taking its toll on him. He sighed and rested his head against the table for a minute, struggling to stay awake while at the same time wanting nothing more than to let sleep take him.

Well, this was what he got for not managing his time properly…

He looked up again and rubbed his stinging eyes, knowing even without looking in a mirror that they were exceptionally bloodshot. He strained to open them again and squinted at the screen to continue his work.

He just couldn’t do it though; he was too exhausted to type another word, and if he kept it up, he would definitely do some permanent damage to his eyesight. With an angry groan, he slammed his head against the desk, and then again, and again.

Whatever being there was that controlled his life, he was seriously wishing a very slow and excruciatingly painful demise upon it.

A small fizzing filled the air suddenly, so quiet he almost missed it even in the silence, but it was definitely there. Frowning, he sat upright again and peered around the back of the computer monitor. After jiggling some of the wires in their sockets, he knelt down and gave the computer tower a solid thump.

When the crackling continued, he sat back up and scratched at his head. He’d probably have to call a repairman in, and on his pathetic salary and their inhumane prices, he was probably going to have to skip out on a few nights of dinner over the next few weeks.

But in the very next moment, the cost of some smart overpaid electrician was the last of his worries, as the large grey portal that had been growing in size behind his back the whole time suddenly yanked him through. He barely managed to scream in terror before it shrunk down in the time it took to blink, and then vanished from existence with a violent explosion that obliterated the entire building.

-=-=-=-

Marble quivered in fear as the monster continued to make its existence known in the most obnoxious way possible. It looked to be a strange combination between a pale minotaur and possibly a gryphon; everything neck down appeared to be similar to the former, but its head had some sort of point between its eyes that somewhat resembled the latter’s beak.

It also appeared to have hardly any fur at all, save for a miniscule amount on its bony arms and a thick brown mane atop its head, but none other than that. He could clearly see pointed teeth in its gaping maw, similar to his mistress’ – they weren’t as sharp, but that was beside the point. Its eyes were much smaller than those of an Equestrian, and the green irises were surrounded by red.

Strangest of all, the battle armour it was outfitted in resembled nothing that he expected a war-demon to have on. In fact, it didn’t seem to be armour at all; there were no plates, no straps, and it appeared to be made completely out of flimsy fabrics that rustled as the beast writhed.

His queen stood tall and unafraid in the face of this horror, but then again, he was but a mortal, and she was an immortal goddess of nightmares and darkness; fear was not something she should feel.

Contrary to her lackey’s opinion, she did feel a smidgeon of anxiety in the face of this being. A creature that required this much effort to summon must surely be formidable enough to at least easily rival her skills.

Nevertheless, she showed no signs of emotion in the face of this potential adversary lest she provoke its wrath.

After a short while, it finally stopped shrieking long enough for her to greet it properly.

“Salutations, your magnificence,” she said flatteringly, bowing deeply. She shook her hood off, letting her dark waving mane flow free in the breezeless chamber. “I am Queen Nightmare Moon of Equestria, and I have called you hear to humbly request your services.”

It froze on the spot, pupils dilating at the very sight of her. Perhaps this demon had heard tell of her abilities and noticed true power where it was present. She could hear its breathing quicken and, very faintly, its heartbeat increase. Sweat was beginning to form on its brow, and damp patches appeared on its pale blue chest-piece, just beneath its arms.

These behaviours were so similar to what belonged to something that Nightmare Moon saw constantly; when an underling caught her eye, when a servant made an error, and when her enemies faced her on the battlefield. This fearsome beast was not so fearsome after all; it was downright terrified, which was quite unbecoming of such a powerful being.

“Are you frightened of me, demon?” she asked, all respect she once had for this thing slowly draining.

It shuffled away slowly and nodded, unable to break eye contact.

She smirked distastefully and advanced. “And you know who I am?” she queried snidely.

The creature nodded again, more frantically, and pressed its back against the wall.

Her entire form writhed with shadow as her appearance shifted. Her teeth sharpened and lengthened as the sides of her face split gruesomely, making her mouth look larger and more evil than before. Her wings shrivelled to tattered, leathery bat-like extensions, and her legs became skeletal while her hooves grew sharp talon-like points. Her beautiful flowing mane became a horrific mess of carnage and bloodshed beneath her suddenly spiked helmet.

“You are right to fear me, demon,” she hissed, her tongue lashing out between her fangs. To its credit, it did not flinch or even cry out at the revelation of her truly horrific form. She cocked her grisly head to one side. “But you do not fear me in the way others fear me.” She shimmered again and retook her less dreadful appearance. “Why is that, demon?”

“Majesty, I hear the Guard approaching,” Marble uttered, glancing back the way they had come.

Nightmare Moon ignored him and kneeled down to the creature’s eye level. “What makes me so terrifying to a being that lives for destruction?” she whispered, eyes narrowing as if they were peering into his soul.

“Majesty, we must leave!” insisted the servant.

She stood up tall again. “Very well,” she snapped disappointedly. “I will not put so much effort to waste.” She turned to face her subordinate. “Mister Marble,” she addressed calmly.

“Yes, highness?” whimpered Marble as galloping soldiers could be heard drawing closer.

“I no longer have use of you,” she replied. “You are relieved of your duty. Go now and die in what way seems most fitting for you.”

Before he could even open his mouth to protest, she and the creature were torn from existence, leaving him alone with the dead husk of his brother and the vicious Guard charging towards him with their weapons lowered.

He managed to stagger four terrified steps away before they caught him on the ends of their spears.