Afraid of the Dark

by KrishnaKarnak

Rating: everyone
Tags: Diamond Tiara, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 1407

Diamond Tiara faces her greatest fear.

Inspired by a nightmare.

Diamond Tiara may be the daughter of one of the richest ponies in Equestria, but her privileged upbringing cannot protect her against her own mental vulnerabilities. Stricken by night terrors, she leaves the comfort of her bed in order to confront her fears and ensure her personal safety.

Edited by SolidFire

Published 2014-03-27 11:10:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-27 11:10:04 UTC

The Gate

It's funny, really. All the money and power in the world, and yet none of it could buy the protection she needed. Not from muggers or vagrants, no, but from the deepest recesses of a troubled mind. The terrors that haunted her dreams were out in numbers tonight.

How did she ever let herself get so vulnerable? How could she imagine for a second that she would always be safe? It was all a fallacy, there was no safety to be found here. This gloomy, empty hallway was a window to a depressed and fractured soul, torn asunder by the very cognizance that constructed the bones of her psyche.

The grandfather clock chimed and her eyes darted to its dim face, storied by the many rustic engravings surrounding it. An eerie clanging echoed throughout the entrance hallway of the extravagantly decorated mansion she called home. One. Two. Three rings. It was three in the morning. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Diamond Tiara's hooves were sweaty, leaving a glistening trail on the hoof-rail. All she had to do was proceed down into the vestibule and approach that engraved ebony door. She took one cautious step, balanced precariously on her back hooves; her front set were rather reluctant to leave the railing. Hoof hovering over the void between the step that supported her and the one at the outset of her descent, she shivered; her violet nightgown flapped around her legs.

This was foolishness. Where was Randolph? Why couldn't her father be awake? Why did her mother have to live at the institution, in the padded jail they called a patient’s ward, of no help to her whatsoever? Why did she have to be all alone? Just her and the cold air, cascading down the staircase to the door. She had to proceed, though. She had to.

Heart pounding in her neck, Diamond Tiara’s hoof fell to the lower step, clopping dully against the polished marble beneath the velvet rug. So far, so good. Still, she remained upright, clutching the rail like a lifeline. Another careful step. Her eyes were screwed up. The door was inching closer. Another step. And another. Why, oh why did that awful dream have to wake her?

Always the same. A stranger at the door. But the door was never locked in those awful visions. Always the same, waking up scared and shivering. Always the same.

Always.

She was there, at long last. The ground floor of the foyer. Free of the chilly embrace of the rail, she fell to all four hooves and sank low to the floor. Her teeth chattered. Her limbs quaked. Randolph didn’t lock the door. The dull light from a distant candle was dancing upon the golden handle of the deadbolt, which was in an unfriendly position. What if the gate was open?

What if the gate was open?

The smell of the agapanthus in the vase on its golden pedestal in its niche by the door assaulted her dry nostrils. It was all she could discern. Or was it? No, no, she could hear it now. Rain. It was raining outside. Her shaking hooves carried her closer and closer to the ebony tombstone. As she neared that door, the sound of the storm grew louder, the wind growling like a swarm of thestrals. Thestrals! Who knew what was out there? Flying rats. Untold scores of wild beasts. Strangers. Always at her door. Always.

No matter. She was almost there. Her sleepy joints creaked with the careful, controlled movement. A flash of lightning. Yes, of course, there had to be lightning. The entrance hall flooded with a blinding, ghostly glare, reflecting upon the polished floor and into a gilded mirror over the door. Her scared doppelganger peered into her soul.

She was a coward. No! She was better than this. Diamond Tiara was notorious. Powerful. Wealthy. She would not allow the darkness to defeat her as though she were some pathetic, crippled blank-flank. She inched closer. Closer. The door was within reach. The cold metal of the deadbolt caressed her underhoof. Click. She was going to kill Randolph.

A job well done, though. How brave, how noble! The mighty Diamond Tiara was successful. Afraid of the dark? Yeah, right. She turned to proceed back up the staircase and to the warmth and safety of her bed, with its fluffy pillows and its thick, heavy sheets with fanciful designs of spirals and fractals and…

The gate. The gate!

She would not be tall enough to see out of the circular window at the throat of the door. The creeping paralysis of anxiety kept her rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the stairway to Heaven. The seconds inched by, one by one. The sweat beaded around her withers, staining her fur and freezing her blood. Another flash of lightning. A roar of thunder.

She had to check. She turned to face the door once more.

A full minute. One long, agonizing minute, and her slick hoof found the deadbolt latch. Click. The door was unchained once more. She found the door handle. A peek. A peek into the abyss of the dead of night. That’s all that was required. She would find the gate securely locked and her irrational fears of the horrors of the dark of twilight would, perhaps, be sated. The handle turned slowly under the ministrations of her limb. Any moment now, the weight of the tall, black, imposing slab of wood would swing inward, no doubt by a fierce gust of wind, and allow the full rage of the thunderstorm to permeate the mansion, letting in who knew what other aberrations.

The latch was free of its tomb in the doorframe. The wind was silent and still. Diamond Tiara pulled it open, eyes tight. Without any rush of air, the door was difficult to keep ajar; the weight was instead demanding it close again. She opened her eyes. The clouds were bleeding their precipitation without prejudice. Puddles littered the walkway and drowned the lawn in sorrow. Her eyes travelled along the lanterns illuminating the path.

The gate was open. The black, iron bars of the protective crib of her home were swinging dully with the wind as it picked up once again. Easily remedied… the switch on the side of the house would initiate the automatic locking mechanism. The gate would close and lock and Diamond Tiara would complain to her father about the incurably inept butler. All she had to do was reach out and flick it.

Demonstrating bravery she did not feel, she stepped onto the raised doorway and reached out of her sanctuary. She could not feel the switch. The rain was throwing itself against her gown and she had never felt so cold in her life. Stretching out her tiny frame, she felt along the outside wall, body pressed against the doorframe, trying to reach the out of sight switch. The impossibility of the act struck such a blow that she could have fallen into eternal slumber. She would not reach the gate switch without crossing the threshold and submitting herself to the storm and whatever lurked beyond the reach of her vision.

She did not know how long she stood there, the door pressing against her haunches, her foreleg aching with cold and the strain of extension. Her night clothes, soaked beyond measure. Leaning forward, she peered around the corner and saw the switch. It was literally a foot out of reach. She would not have to venture far into the night. However, she would be unable to keep the door open.

Was it worth the risk? Would she be safe? Another flash of lightning, this time, a series of them. Though her retinas burned, she raked the lawn, the walkway, the edges of the house in rapid succession. She was alone. There was nothing out there. No reason to be scared. The darkness returned. Diamond Tiara stepped out into the rain, feeling the door close behind her. She moved toward the gate switch.

No one heard her scream.

Author's Note

This was inspired by a dream. During that infinitesimal space of time between being fully asleep and dreaming and completely aware and conscious, this story formed in its entirety, as the nightmare involved Diamond Tiara confronting similar events... I often have dreams and even nightmares about ponies. Perhaps I'll make a habit of writing about them.