The Townsendby MemoryLaneChaptersChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter OneJazz should've been asleep by now. It was ten minutes past midnight, and the sounds of Stableside snoring pervaded what little safety she felt she had left. She was beginning to get worried. A little frightened, even. A small bug was skittering around in her chest, hopping and flying about as if it was the end of the world. Surely, it wouldn’t happen to her tonight. There was just no possible way. Her doubts lacked reason and logic, but she still didn’t stop thinking them. The longer she lied in that bed -- in the menacing darkness -- the more awake and aware she became. She found that the more she asked, the more her world decided to enforce it's twisted form of destiny upon her feeble soul. Jazz wanted to be in her own little world. She wanted to be buried up in her head in falsified reality, another meaningless dream that would plow its way through her brain like a scorched bullet. She wanted to feel nothing at all. She wanted to pass out, and wake up feeling tired, yet rejuvenated, and knowing that she had survived the Townsend that year -- like she always had. Townsend. The single word kept floating in and out of her mind, like a sailboat caught between land, and a roaring tidal wave. She hated it. She hated that word with every fiber in her being. That word brought on nothing but worry and panic. It brought on sadness, and a strange kind of depression that not even she could describe. The ignorant bliss that the world had been so accustomed to over hundreds of years worth of occurrences fell silent upon Jazz's ears. Jazz was lying on her right side in her bed. Her eyes were clamped shut so hard, it started to hurt her head. She was starting to get desperate, even though it was only a few minutes past midnight. But she had a good excuse. Everypony knew the rules of the Townsend. You must be asleep no later than midnight the night it begins. Everypony knew that, even the little children who partook in the celebration in good cheer. But even since a child, the night brought nothing but stress and anxiety. But there she was, still awake, and trying so very hard not to have a heart attack. She turned over, lying on her left side and facing the white wall of her bedroom. What if she never fell asleep? She heard the rumors. The ones that tell the tales of those who were unfortunate enough to stay awake that dreaded night. Her parents had warned her, so very long ago. She regretted ever being told. The Townsend was a strange phenomenon, that was for sure. It took place once every year, and started on the same day. It lasted a full week. Jazz was told everything, how the first night of the Townsend, the Great Slumber, was to be celebrated hours before with a monstrous feast, and fun and games. Even hours ago, Jazz partook in it. Her stomach was still slightly engorged after a dinner of salad and various desserts for no other reason than to help her fall asleep. She did not find the games and food to be entertaining in the slightest. She only viewed this as a futile way to embrace the unknown, something nopony understood. The Townsend. During the week, everypony slept. It was strange. Nopony knew why, but it happened. It just did. When you wake up the following week during The Awakening, it’s as if nothing had ever happened. Just another day. It made Jazz sick to think about. Nopony ever figured out why they all slept during that week. Nopony wanted to either. It was just another reason to celebrate. Another reason to see family and friends -- another reason to stay blind. Jazz had also heard the rumors. She turned over again. She let out a small grunt. Fifteen minutes. Was she ever going to fall asleep? She dug her face deeper into the pillow, and felt her dark brown mane press against her face, tickling her. It irritated Jazz, but she couldn’t be worried by that. She had more pressing things to be irritated about. She needed to get to sleep immediately. She didn’t want to end up the the rest of the ponies who had failed to fall comatose during the Townsend. No, not at all. But… she couldn’t. She wasn’t even tired. Not even a little bit. It was hopeless, but she refused to believe that. She was afraid to get out of bed. Getting out of bed would mean that she accepts it, her fate. It would mean that she could officially declare that she broke the rules of the Townsend, and didn’t fall asleep in the allotted time, even though she had been lying in that bed for the last three hours. Why her? She wasn’t a bad pony -- not by any means. She was liked by her friends and community, had a decent relationship with her family. She even had a cute stallion of whom she had her eye on. Life was going swimmingly, so why was fate trying to take it all away from her? Is it because of the things she thought? The way she would go about her life as if it was one giant joke? She didn’t know. Her golden-colored eyes snapped open. There were pierced through the darkness like a sewing needle. Even at a distance of a few feet, Jazz could still see the reflection of her eyes in the mirror on her vanity on the other side of the room. It was eerie, in fact, most of her friends told her that using the exact same words. However, that was irrelevant. Her room was very bare, only containing the essentials that she needed for everyday life: a closet full of accessories, a bed for resting, and a vanity. She was never one for pointless money laundering like her friends. In actuality, the room made her look downright poor considering that she has more than enough money tucked away somewhere for college. She had to get up. Her stupid brain just would not relax itself. She had no choice but to give in and accept her fate, her imminent disappearance from the world as she knew it. Nopony would ever see her again… should the rumors she heard be true. She sniffled lightly, quickly remembering that being quiet wasn't very important anymore. There was a window on the wall, nearest the foot of her bed. Moonlight slogged in, providing her very little light. It was a very cloudy night, after all. Whenever she would step in the moon rays at night, her bright blue coat almost seemed to shine. She let out a small groan, and sat up. It was game over. It was time. She was never an optimist, nor was that the time to be one. Her heart was beating so fast, it resembled the rumblings of a train. She couldn’t stop shivering. What was to happen now? She had always wanted to know, but not this way. She wasn't ready to die. She had never truly thought about the afterlife. She never knew what to believe. She was scared witless. She didn’t know what to do. Should she go walk around? Should she just stay in bed and keep trying to sleep even though it was pointless and not worth trying? Perhaps she should call to her roommate. The thought of actually raising her voice actually terrified her more. But… what if Crest was awake too? Perhaps they could comfort each other. Jazz could really use some kind and even humorous words right about then. Before she had unwisely given herself any more time to think, she threw the covers off of her, and was instantly hit with a nail biting chill. It was if Death himself was perched upon her shoulder. She spasmodically shivered again, and tried her best to keep her teeth from chattering. It took but a few seconds until her body embraced the cold, and she could continue. She tiptoed over to the door. It was closed. She carefully turned the handle, and winced when the door made a much louder noise than she would have preferred. It was much too silent. Inside the house, and outside. It quickened her heartbeat. She was tempted to do something, anything, to draw attention away from the quietness. She contemplated turning on a radio, but deemed that a horrible idea for reasons she didn’t really know. Perhaps her intuition and common sense was still intact, for all she knew. It was fortunate that her mild fear of the dark kept her from doing anything too rash. “C-C-Crest?” Jazz’s voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. No way her roommate could have heard that, should she even be awake. Each year, somewhere between ten and thirty ponies go missing among all of Equestria. The rumors had always said that those who don't fall asleep are the ones who disappear, but it has never been proven true. The chances that Jazz and Crest, roommates in the same household, disappear during the same Townsend are next to nil. Equestria was quite populous. Her hopes died just a little bit, along with her courage. Jazz gulped, and it hurt. She didn’t exactly know what to do. Trusting her instincts, she forced herself to take a left, and head down the hallway towards her friend. She didn’t wish to be alone anymore. Her hoofsteps felt as if they were being echoed along the not just the hallway, but the world. Her mind was a flurry of doubts, stress, and restlessness. She couldn't keep a straight thought in her mind even if she wanted to. Jazz reached Crest’s room in a matter of seconds, golden eyes in a sea of black despair. They moved in a seemingly random and quick manner. “Crest?” Jazz’s normally husky and thick voice was reduced to nothing but a shell of its former self. “Hello…? Please answer me.” She knocked on the door, once. Nothing. Once more. No reply. Jazz opened the door anyways. Crest’s white face was rested on her pillow on the other side of the room. Her eyes were sleep, and her chest rose and descended like some kind of sick metronome. Her short, green mane was strewn about. She looked exactly how Jazz wished herself could had looked. Why did Crest get to fall asleep during the Townsend, and not her? Jazz's revelations suddenly came forth from the muddy wasteland that was her brain. What would Crest think when she woke up one week later and realized that her best friend was gone? Jazz felt like crying. She had so much to see, and do. She couldn’t disappear. She just didn’t want to. All of her fears in life had prepared her for this very moment, as if her destiny was to experience true terror at its finest. What was she to do now? The clock on Crest’s wall read 12:33 AM. Jazz probably would have stood there until the sun came up. But then everything turned red. It was odd. It was as if Jazz had merely blinked, and it all changed. It caused her to yelp, very loudly. The moonlight that had been coming through Crest’s window was now tinted a bright red, the color of rose petals and blood. The walls were tinted crimson, the floor, even Crest’s white body. It was as if somepony had put a red sheet of paper in front of the dazzling moon. After Jazz had regained her composure, which only took about ten minutes of hysterical panting and wheezing, she stopped. What was going on? With her heart leaping out of her chest, she practically crawled over to the window. She peeked her head outside, shaking so hard that her mane was having difficulty coming to rest. Her body was shivering horrendously, and her mouth tasted of iron. At some point, she had bit onto her lip -- hard. She gasped at what she saw. The moon was gone, the clouds were gone. The silent streets of Stableside were unlit, untouched, untreated. The sky itself was a unified block of color. It looked down upon the world, as if it was bleeding for Jazz and it alone. Author's Note I wrote this because I felt inspired, and for the love of God, I just wanted to write something. It may not match up to my other work, but I enjoyed writing it, and that's what matters. Thanks for reading. Please, let me know if you'd like me to continue. -Cyneryk PS. Please ignore any mistakes. I'll go through and clean it up later. Chapter TwoThat was it. It was over. Jazz was allowed no more. Just as soon as the sky turned a color she was sure to be acquainted with soon anyway, it had disappeared. The flash had only been there for a few key moments before somepony flipped the "off" switch. If she focused enough, the tint was still there in the back of her eyelids. It chilled her. Never in her life had she seen the sky turn that color. The idea was horrendously obvious, but Jazz wasn’t very keen on realizing it. The Townsend had begun. She turned back to Crest and her quiet, shallow breathes. Her body rose and fell with every breathe of the air that Jazz was struggling to take in. “Crest? Crest, please wake up…” Jazz whimpered pathetically, like a puppy standing next to it’s fallen master. She knew what she was doing was selfish — waking up her friend and bringing her into a potential nightmare just so she wouldn’t have to be so alone. But Jazz knew Crest, and the one thing she could always depend on was the fact that Crest could keep her safe. Jazz put a shaking hoof on Crest’s side, and lightly shook. “Crest? Crest, please, you have to get up.” As much as Jazz wanted to raise her voice, she most she could do without breaking out into full blown panic was to just croak out the words. The house was silent. The world was silent. Jazz was silent. Jazz’s shakes grew rougher, and faster, until eventually the mare was almost pushing her friend off of her own bed. “Crest! Come on, don’t leave me alone! I can’t…” It was no use. There was no way the mare was getting up anytime soon. At least, not until the week was over. That’s right. Anyone who fell asleep won’t wake up until the end of the Townsend — one week from now. Jazz had never heard of anypony who had actually woken up during the fated week. Jazz was wasting her energy. Jazz’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and a few frightful tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh no, no... “ she muttered to herself as she swept her mane back from in front of her face. She was alone. She was terribly, terribly alone. She took a deep breath, and wiped the tears off of pinked cheeks. “Calm down, please, just…” she whispered to herself. The longer she thought about it, the more she came to terms with the fact that she was on her metaphorical death bed. That was the gist of it. Her family in Canterlot would wake up after the week had passed, rejuvenated and pleased. Then, it’d turn to tragedy as they realize that their darling daughter had become a victim of The Townsend. She would become nothing but a memory to everypony that she'd ever known. She couldn’t just hide in her house. She sniffed and looked up, and out the nearby window. “Maybe…” she whimpered, as she contemplated her future. Maybe… there’s somepony else who didn’t fall asleep…? Maybe I’m not the only one awake in town. Jazz didn’t like the idea of going outside, but she had no choice. Thinking logically, there was a chance of there being somepony else awake. But then again, there was no way to be sure. She would feel much better if she had somepony else at her side, rather than sitting in her home for a full week, hiding like a foal. She was going to die anyway. She had to take a chance. Tossing aside every childish will that told her to stay and hide, she quietly slid back into her room. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. She slid her peach colored satchel over her head, and took one more deep breathe. She then wandered to the restroom, cleaned herself up, and made her way to the front of her house. Her satchel carried her everyday essentials, such as her keys and wallet, but she a bit too bothered to discard them and leave them behind. The view from Jazz’s doorstep was exactly what she expected: pure nothingness. The streets were as empty as Jazz had ever seen them, even for a little after midnight. The crickets had taken their leave, as well as everypony in town. Poking her head outside was the equivalent to entering one of those sound protected rooms Jazz had heard so much about, the ones that cancel every single morsel of noise. The silence didn’t make her feel any better. The air nipped at her nose, and so she was forced to stifle yet another pathetic sniffle. “Hello?” She cried out to the void. Jazz had been about Stableside in the dead of night a few times before. The darkness that shrouded the normally pleasant town was nothing compared to how she felt right then. It had taken Jazz a few moments for Jazz to realize the overabundance of the pitch black around her. For being pretty close to the dead center of town, she could hardly see her neighbors’ homes. It took her a little longer than she’d like to notice that the streetlights had turned off at some point. “Flashlight…” she told herself. If she was going to run around, she needed a flashlight. The last thing she needed was to trip over something while feeling around through the dark, or worse yet, fall into a well -- which Stableside had quite a few of. There had been folk tales of foals who fell into wells, created by concerned mothers and fathers to prevent their children from playing too close to them. It had taken Jazz approximately ten seconds to walk back inside, locate her favorite yellow flashlight from the cabinet in the kitchen, and make her way back outside. “There, now I might not trip over my own hooves,” she muttered as she closed her front door behind her. “Now, where to…” Maybe it would have been smarter to come up with a game plan before walking outside… Regardless, Jazz turned left. She knew for sure that heading north — deeper into the town — was probably for the best. “The police station… somepony has to be there,” she murmured. Jazz could see nothing except for what she was shining her flashlight on, as if her own town was playing a devilish game of peekaboo, or reenacting one of her favorite horror novels. She kept her flashlight pointed directly in front of her, refusing to move it even an inch for the fear of seeing something she’d rather not see coming. The last thing she needed was to shine her flashlight on a small animal and have a heart attack. Every step on the cobblestone below her was a call for help. The world around her was so foreign and gross that it was merely a shell of its former, lively self. She couldn’t keep herself from tripping over small, round indents in the ground that she never saw until it was too late. Had it rained recently? It didn’t smell like it, but the indents were full of a strange clear liquid she could only assume was water. “Careful…” she told herself. Either way, the last thing she needed was a sprained hoof. The police station was quite a walk away, so Jazz let out a breath. “Okay… maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought it would be,” she whispered just a little louder. Perhaps she was just overreacting. “It’s… it’s just the dark. It’ll be daylight soon anyway… maybe-” And that’s when she heard it. There was no mistaking it. It was the only sound that she had heard since the Townsend began that didn’t come from her own actions or body. It was a thumping sound, like somepony banging on the side of the house — loud, continuous… Heavy. Chapter Three“Hello…?” Jazz called out, only to be greeted with the twisted sound of stillness. Where did it go? She was sure that she had heard something, not even a few seconds ago — some sort of weird, thumping sound that followed the beat of a metronome. Was somepony trying to get her attention? For just a brief second, Jazz’s face actually relaxed when that little sliver of hope emerged. “Hello? Is somepony out there?” Jazz’s flashlight had begun to shake a little harder in her hooves. The pessimism was starting to set in, causing a few fearful tears to well up in her eyes. She was tempted to close her eyes, shake it off, and keep moving — however she wasn’t that dense. Jazz took a small breath, and worked up every single inch of courage she had. Jazz slowly turned around. Nothing. The mare’s yellow eyes scanned the horizon. The street was untouched — uninhabited by anypony else but her. Jazz let out a relieved sigh, turning her attention to the ground for merely a moment. “Get a hold of yourself…” Jazz muttered, cursing herself for letting her mind play tricks like that. “Just… calm down." Despite what she was telling herself, she was certain of what she had heard. That strange pounding sound was still ringing in her eardrums — a memento of her inner fears and nyctophobia manifesting themselves in real life. Though, she couldn’t think about it. She internally screamed at herself to knock it off. She hadn’t heard a thing. It was just her mind. She had to keep moving. The police station was awaiting her. Jazz turned back around, keeping her flashlight pointed way into the distance. The police station was still a mile or so away. She had a ways to go. If somepony else was still awake, they’d have to be there, right? J Jazz’s father’s words played in her head like a broken record. “If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come down to the station. No one can hurt you here, pumpkin. Someone is always here to help you.” If only she hadn’t made the decision to move from Canterlot to Stableside. Her father had been so proud of her moving out and taking on the world on her own. However, she knew her father’s station like the back of her hoof. Jazz kept walking. One step. Two step. Three steps. She passed the homes of ponies of whom she just vaguely knew. She passed a park that was home to many memories created by the community that she would probably never speak to again. She passed the store that she would walk to every morning for groceries. She passed the cafe, the only true outlet she ever had. As she walked past each and every one of her standing memories, she cherished every step away from them she took, especially the coffee shop. Her years of performing her poetry were some of her favorites. From the eccentric crowd constantly being drawn in to the wonderful aroma, to the shamelessly passionate music and stories that have been told on that small stage in the back of the shop. She stopped upon the thought, after having walked a good number of blocks from her home. Her eyes grazed the sign hanging on top — the one that read “Bits and Bites Coffee”. The sign itself was created by the middle school a few miles down the road. Bits, and her younger sister, Bites, actually paid the school’s art program and their excited kids to create the sign. The result was a very boisterous, flower and coffee bean covered sign that Jazz could see from all the way down the road. Jazz gave in after she could still smell the sweet coffee grounds radiating in the air. Jazz kept her flashlight aimed at the glass doors, and for the first time since she made her way to the police station, veered from the road. Her hooves clopped on the concrete below her as she walked forward. “I wish I would have brought my pen and paper, at least,” she mused. The small sign in the window said “Closed! Happy Townsend!”, followed by a crudely drawn smiley face that could have been done by nopony else but Bites. Jazz sighed. What she’d give for a mug of their coffee right about then. It was a shame that coffee was one of the last things in the world she needed at the moment. Jazz turned around, but then she stopped. Thump. Thump. Thump. There it was — that sound. She was sure she had heard it this time, however it was way closer than before, albeit muffled, like someone was punching a pillow with upstanding might. “Hello?” Jazz whispered. The sounds were too close to ignore, and it seemed to come from inside of the coffee shop. Her heart quickened at her own very specific idea. “Hello? Is somepony in there?” Jazz lowered the flashlight, and grabbed the handle of the door. Locked. “Is somepony there? Please, let me in!” she cried, raising her voice for the first time. She shook the handle a few more times than necessary, as the thumping grew louder. Whatever was in there must have been bumping into things, and making quite a racket. Jazz had had enough. She turned off her flashlight and gently placed it in her satchel. She put her left hoof on the glass, and peered inside. “Hello-” On the other side of the glass, not even five feet away from the door, were eyes. Large, peering eyes — the size of basketballs. Eight of them. Jazz jumped back, and let out a throat-shattering scream that had the potential to wake every single sleeping pony in Stableside, and not a moment too soon. From inside of the coffee shop, whatever was peering back at her let out a shrill, ear-bursting cry that shook the earth below her. The sound was ungodly — a noise that rattled her brain and made her eyes go so wide that they started to hurt from the lack of moisture. It sounded like a pig was being slaughtered right in front of the world’s largest megaphone. Jazz fled immediately, hardly getting a look at the monster in the window before making a full sprint down the road. Not even four steps later, she heard the mighty crash of the glass doors exploding just behind her. She wasn’t a rocket scientist, but she knew immediately what was happening. Whatever the creature was, it rammed through the glass doors, possibly destroying the front of her favorite building. However, Jazz wasn’t concerned about that. What was, indeed, bothering her was the simple fact that whatever had the strength to break an entire glass entrance… Was outside with her. Jazz let loose another deafening scream, unable to bring herself to look at the monstrosity behind her. She forced her legs to move, despite the fact that they had turned to jelly moments ago. The frightful tears in her eyes only made it difficult to tell where she was going in the darkness of Stableside. Thump! Thump! Thump! The sounds that the monster made followed her as she ran, screaming like an absolute banshee down the road that led to the police station. The thumping sounds were chasing her, getting closer and closer as the mare’s adrenaline finally kicked in at full maximum. The thumping sounds were the monsters footsteps. She hadn’t heard a pony earlier — she had heard this monsters steps… stalking her for blocks and blocks. The sounds came closer, as did the shrill cry that the screeching cry that could have penetrated the heavens. Whatever the monster was, it was faster than her, and it rattled the very air that entered Jazz's lungs. Jazz welcomed death. She knew she was going to die ever since she found herself awake that night. However, after having stared it right in the face, Jazz couldn’t bring herself to die. Jazz’s hooves moved at mach speed, faster than she had ever documented herself running in her life. Her heart felt like it was going to explode as the monster sprinted right along behind her as an astonishingly quick pace. No matter how fast Jazz would run, the monster would always be moving faster — gaining on her, reaching for her… hungry for her. There was no way to outrun it. She was going to die. Jazz tried to holler actual words, but all that came out was a garbled mess. Every attempt to call for help came in vain. Even if she could get it out, nopony would hear. Nopony was awake. She was the only occupant of Stableside. Not for long. She sprinted past the pharmacy, and took a hard left at the intersection. The monster cried out, and another loud crash was heard. Had it ran into something? Jazz would never know. Whatever happened, she hoped it slowed whatever was chasing her down as she entered the middle of town. The police station! She had no other choice. She couldn’t run forever. Her heart could only take so much before it would simply explode on its own — making an easy meal out of her. As the buildings around her grew in size and shape, Jazz made a hard right onto Mayberry street. Another cry escaped from the monster, one that threatened to destroy Jazz’s sensitive eardrums. Jazz wanted to wipe the tears out of her eyes, but the risk of her tripping over herself was too large. She was so close — only a block away. She dipped into a thin alleyway, barely managing to squeeze through. She ran. She ran, and ran, and ran, as the sounds of the monster grew quieter and quieter. It’s defeated cries and hungry shrieks dying out as it was left behind on Mayberry street, unable to fit through the alleyway Jazz hadn’t even thought about being an escape route. She hadn't been thinking at all, actually. She couldn’t bring herself to. The word “Run!” replayed over and over and over in her mind until she made it to the police station, one of the only places in town that was prepared with a backup generator. It’s lights shown brightly in the dark, disgusting streets as Jazz made a beeline. She practically slammed into the door, failing to open it before she could slow herself down. Much to her gratefulness, the door opened. Jazz disappeared inside, bathing herself in light as the door gently closed behind her. She damn near broke every door that came in her way, until she reached the stairs leading to the cells. After taking a single step, Jazz tripped. Landing on a very uncomfortable part of her front leg at the bottom of the staircase, she dared not to stop and assess the damage she had caused. She got up, and started limping. Opening the door with her injured hoof, she jumped behind the desk. Dad, where are they? You always said they’d be here! Police officers always kept them here! Had it not been for the dimly swinging light in the middle of the room, Jazz would have never been able to locate the keys for the jail cells. She didn’t even celebrate. She tossed herself in the cell, potentially hurting herself further. She got up, and hurriedly closed the barred jailed door. She stuck one of the many keys in the lock located near the edge of the door, and jumped back, neglecting to make sure the keys were secured to the lock. She didn’t notice them fall out, and bounce off the floor about ten feet away. She wasn’t worried about that. Everything was still, once again. Jazz’s twitching eyes showed no relief as she finally brought herself to fully wail in fright. Her cries echoed off the cemented walls of the jail cell, and she collapsed on the lone mattress in the corner of the room. With aching legs and a wet face, Jazz dug her head in her hooves and trembled. Chapter FourJazz had somehow managed to cry herself to sleep. It was discouraging, waking up to such silence. For a moment, she thought that she had finally escaped her own personal nightmare. The dim emergency light that lit the dank, moldy jail cell made Jazz’s eyes open wide. Despite the grogginess, fear overtook it by a mile. The recently cleaned mattress below her was reassuring, but it didn’t stop her from violently shivering. The cold concrete floor was wet, and a quick peer upwards saved Jazz the curiosity as a small leak dripped monotonously into a small puddle. Aside from the toilet in the corner of the room, the jail cell was completely empty. But, why am I still here? Jazz sat upwards, holding her head in her hooves like a drunkard after blacking out. She must have fallen asleep. There was no doubt in her mind. So why was there nopony there? The jail cell was silent, but it let Jazz tune in around her. She could hear nothing. No hoofsteps, no talking, nothing. A week should have passed, but a quick look at the clock proved that she had only been asleep for around eight hours. She was still in Hell. The Townsend. That’s when it all came flashing back to her, like a speeding carriage in the night. She was unable to fall asleep. She tried waking Crest to no avail, she wandered outside with her satchel — which she somehow still had, lying on the floor a few feet away. She went to the Cafe and… It. Jazz felt like she was going absolutely manic just by remembering it — the monster that tormented her. I was… chased here? Running it through her brain again, it sounded nuts. She didn’t even get a clear look at the monster that chased her, aside from those eight, soulless eyes that pierced through her very heart. It was fuzzy, and she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. She had to forget about monster, or whatever it was that she saw. If anything, it was just a dream. She had been wanting to come to the station, right? She probably came in and then hallucinated it out of panic. She wouldn’t accept anything else. So many questions, and each one drove Jazz more and more hysteric. Why was she still awake during the Townsend, even after falling asleep? Do you have to fall asleep the night of to ensure that you’ll be asleep for the whole week? What was that monster? What happened to the cafe? Jazz’s stomach growled, and the poor mare almost jumped. She put a hoof to her belly, and sighed. It’s morning. I’d feel much better moving around town now, with all the light. The blue mare scooted herself off of the mattress, all while shaking vigorously. She hadn’t eaten in quite some time now — her last meal being a small nutritional bar the evening prior. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see it, she knew the light was much safer should her dream about that monster have been real. Jazz grabbed her satchel off of the floor, dusted it off, and then swiftly put it on. Jazz reached the jail cell door, and attempted to open it. Nope. “Huh?” Jazz tried again, but with a little more force. The barred door hardly budged, and the mare furrowed her brow. Locked? Jazz groaned. Where did I put the keys? There was no way she was as dense as to lose them. With a quick rummage around her satchel, the mare was instantly overcome with worry. “Oh, no, no!” She barely noticed her aching body as she bent down to look through the mattress she had slept on, and on the floor surrounding it. “Please, they have to be…” Jazz was relieved when she had found them a few moments later. She had left them in the lock last night, or so she assumed. All that mattered now was that they weren’t there anymore. They were on the floor, about ten feet away near the guard’s desk. A few more tears fell down Jazz’s face upon the realization. She had screwed up — real, real bad. Jazz bent down, sliding her hoof through the jail bars in a desperate effort to grab the keys. She wasn’t even close, unable to reach even halfway. Her mind began to do calculations, wondering how in the world the keys managed to bounce that far. It didn’t take long for Jazz to focus on the bigger picture. She was locked in there. With nopony being able to let her out for at least six days. With that single thought, Jazz’s stomach roared in protest as she sat her rump down on the cold floor. With one cruel mistake, the mare had a whole new misery to experience. Instead of dying to some monster she wasn’t even sure was real, now she was going to die slowly — painfully. She was going to starve to death down there, in a damp jail cell. The tears flowed freely once again, and this time she was unable to stop herself. She had cried so much in the last day that half of it quickly turned into panicked shivering and sniffles. As if on cue, Jazz’s ears finally tuned into the clock in the corner of the room, taunting her. The mare threw her hooves down and grabbed her satchel, eager to look through it again. Please, tell me there's some kind of food in here. Jazz’s prayers failed to fall on anypony’s ears. She was horrified to discover just how ill-prepared she was. Aside from her usual things, like her wallet and house keys, the only other things she had were useless: sunglasses, her flashlight, a deck of cards, floss, some headache medicine, and a pen and small notepad that she was more than surprised to have found.. She took off her satchel and threw it to the side, relishing in the noise it made when it crashed against the brick wall. Everything she had on her was a joke. Now, she was going to starve because of it. Jazz lied back, stared at the ceiling, and closed her eyes. She left her hooves on her stomach. She forced herself to start getting comfortable. She had a feeling she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was fifteen hours later, almost approaching three in the morning, when Jazz had finally finished her song. It was nothing special, just a way to pass the time as she waited for herself to finally starve. There was a fluttering sensation in her chest as she read over it for what must have been the umpteenth time. Whether or not she got out of there alive or not, at least maybe her work could escape. Jazz let out a sigh, as she contemplated actually singing it. Her fear of her own voice was the reason why she called it ‘poetry’ instead of what it actually was: music. There was nothing stopping her, in fact, there was nopony awake anywhere in Equestria. She could do as she wanted. Despite this, her starving gut still told her not to. It had been a full day—plus some— since she had anything to eat or drink, and because of it, her stomach was throwing the biggest tantrum she had ever had to endure. Jazz hung her head, and put her notepad and pen back into her satchel. She could polish the song later, maybe. Perhaps I should go back to trying to fetch the keys. As much as she told herself that, she knew there was no way. Jazz had spent a few hours already trying to get the keys in whatever manner she could: from using her satchel as a lasso to actually tying the ending of her tail into a loop. Much to her disdain after that didn’t work, getting the knot out of her tail gave her so much grief that she actually had to stop and get a hold of herself before she had a breakdown. The ticking of the clock was driving her crazy, not to mention the fact that the monster she had dreamed of earlier replayed in her mind constantly, like a stuttering movie. Inside, the idea of it being a dream was silly, and obvious. Outside, the mare shook her head at the possibility. It was a shame that every single time she saw those eyes in her head she felt even sicker than the time before. Jazz suddenly tried again, opening her mouth and belting as loud as she could. “Is anypony out there? Please, help!” she cried desperately as each breath tore into her dry throat. It had only been a full day or so, yet it felt like much longer. Jazz was positive that ponies were supposed to go days without food or water, but she was quickly being proven wrong. Either way, it was Tuesday morning, and she could feel death looming over her. Perhaps it was all the running I did earlier, she pondered as she finally came to terms with the events of the night prior. She made her way onto the mattress, and curled up into a pathetic little ball. She did her best to nurture her pained belly, rubbing it to no avail. She was out of tears to cry, and she slowly accepted her fate. The poor mare closed her eyes tightly, right as a new sound perforated her ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. Just like that, her eyes snapped back open in a frenzy. “No… no… please, no…” she whispered to herself, as her shaking evolved into a full blown fit. She remembered that sound, and what it brought forth. It was coming from upstairs. Had it followed her? Did it have a way to penetrate the jail cell walls? Would she have enough energy to run? Jazz felt like the better question was: starve to death, or eviscerated and eaten by a gigantic monster? She could hardly think. Why would it come down here. It has no reason to, right? Did it hear me crying for help? I’m so stupid! Thump. Thump THUMP. Whatever what coming upstairs, Jazz heard the last thump come from something she knew was bad news: the top of the stairs leading to her jail cell. “Please, no…” she whispered below her breath. Her heart stammered so hard in her chest that it physically hurt. It was getting difficult to tell what was her heart and what was the monster. Thump. Thump. Whatever it was, it was definitely coming down the stairs. How could she have been so stupid as to have called for help when there was a monster running around, especially when she had nowhere to run? The monster reached the bottom of the stairs, but Jazz wasn’t looking anymore. If she was going to die, the last thing she wanted to see was herself getting thrown into a monster's jaws, or to see her own organs. She waited patiently, before a medium pitched voice pierced the jail room. “Dear Celestia, you’re awake!”
Chapter OneJazz should've been asleep by now. It was ten minutes past midnight, and the sounds of Stableside snoring pervaded what little safety she felt she had left. She was beginning to get worried. A little frightened, even. A small bug was skittering around in her chest, hopping and flying about as if it was the end of the world. Surely, it wouldn’t happen to her tonight. There was just no possible way. Her doubts lacked reason and logic, but she still didn’t stop thinking them. The longer she lied in that bed -- in the menacing darkness -- the more awake and aware she became. She found that the more she asked, the more her world decided to enforce it's twisted form of destiny upon her feeble soul. Jazz wanted to be in her own little world. She wanted to be buried up in her head in falsified reality, another meaningless dream that would plow its way through her brain like a scorched bullet. She wanted to feel nothing at all. She wanted to pass out, and wake up feeling tired, yet rejuvenated, and knowing that she had survived the Townsend that year -- like she always had. Townsend. The single word kept floating in and out of her mind, like a sailboat caught between land, and a roaring tidal wave. She hated it. She hated that word with every fiber in her being. That word brought on nothing but worry and panic. It brought on sadness, and a strange kind of depression that not even she could describe. The ignorant bliss that the world had been so accustomed to over hundreds of years worth of occurrences fell silent upon Jazz's ears. Jazz was lying on her right side in her bed. Her eyes were clamped shut so hard, it started to hurt her head. She was starting to get desperate, even though it was only a few minutes past midnight. But she had a good excuse. Everypony knew the rules of the Townsend. You must be asleep no later than midnight the night it begins. Everypony knew that, even the little children who partook in the celebration in good cheer. But even since a child, the night brought nothing but stress and anxiety. But there she was, still awake, and trying so very hard not to have a heart attack. She turned over, lying on her left side and facing the white wall of her bedroom. What if she never fell asleep? She heard the rumors. The ones that tell the tales of those who were unfortunate enough to stay awake that dreaded night. Her parents had warned her, so very long ago. She regretted ever being told. The Townsend was a strange phenomenon, that was for sure. It took place once every year, and started on the same day. It lasted a full week. Jazz was told everything, how the first night of the Townsend, the Great Slumber, was to be celebrated hours before with a monstrous feast, and fun and games. Even hours ago, Jazz partook in it. Her stomach was still slightly engorged after a dinner of salad and various desserts for no other reason than to help her fall asleep. She did not find the games and food to be entertaining in the slightest. She only viewed this as a futile way to embrace the unknown, something nopony understood. The Townsend. During the week, everypony slept. It was strange. Nopony knew why, but it happened. It just did. When you wake up the following week during The Awakening, it’s as if nothing had ever happened. Just another day. It made Jazz sick to think about. Nopony ever figured out why they all slept during that week. Nopony wanted to either. It was just another reason to celebrate. Another reason to see family and friends -- another reason to stay blind. Jazz had also heard the rumors. She turned over again. She let out a small grunt. Fifteen minutes. Was she ever going to fall asleep? She dug her face deeper into the pillow, and felt her dark brown mane press against her face, tickling her. It irritated Jazz, but she couldn’t be worried by that. She had more pressing things to be irritated about. She needed to get to sleep immediately. She didn’t want to end up the the rest of the ponies who had failed to fall comatose during the Townsend. No, not at all. But… she couldn’t. She wasn’t even tired. Not even a little bit. It was hopeless, but she refused to believe that. She was afraid to get out of bed. Getting out of bed would mean that she accepts it, her fate. It would mean that she could officially declare that she broke the rules of the Townsend, and didn’t fall asleep in the allotted time, even though she had been lying in that bed for the last three hours. Why her? She wasn’t a bad pony -- not by any means. She was liked by her friends and community, had a decent relationship with her family. She even had a cute stallion of whom she had her eye on. Life was going swimmingly, so why was fate trying to take it all away from her? Is it because of the things she thought? The way she would go about her life as if it was one giant joke? She didn’t know. Her golden-colored eyes snapped open. There were pierced through the darkness like a sewing needle. Even at a distance of a few feet, Jazz could still see the reflection of her eyes in the mirror on her vanity on the other side of the room. It was eerie, in fact, most of her friends told her that using the exact same words. However, that was irrelevant. Her room was very bare, only containing the essentials that she needed for everyday life: a closet full of accessories, a bed for resting, and a vanity. She was never one for pointless money laundering like her friends. In actuality, the room made her look downright poor considering that she has more than enough money tucked away somewhere for college. She had to get up. Her stupid brain just would not relax itself. She had no choice but to give in and accept her fate, her imminent disappearance from the world as she knew it. Nopony would ever see her again… should the rumors she heard be true. She sniffled lightly, quickly remembering that being quiet wasn't very important anymore. There was a window on the wall, nearest the foot of her bed. Moonlight slogged in, providing her very little light. It was a very cloudy night, after all. Whenever she would step in the moon rays at night, her bright blue coat almost seemed to shine. She let out a small groan, and sat up. It was game over. It was time. She was never an optimist, nor was that the time to be one. Her heart was beating so fast, it resembled the rumblings of a train. She couldn’t stop shivering. What was to happen now? She had always wanted to know, but not this way. She wasn't ready to die. She had never truly thought about the afterlife. She never knew what to believe. She was scared witless. She didn’t know what to do. Should she go walk around? Should she just stay in bed and keep trying to sleep even though it was pointless and not worth trying? Perhaps she should call to her roommate. The thought of actually raising her voice actually terrified her more. But… what if Crest was awake too? Perhaps they could comfort each other. Jazz could really use some kind and even humorous words right about then. Before she had unwisely given herself any more time to think, she threw the covers off of her, and was instantly hit with a nail biting chill. It was if Death himself was perched upon her shoulder. She spasmodically shivered again, and tried her best to keep her teeth from chattering. It took but a few seconds until her body embraced the cold, and she could continue. She tiptoed over to the door. It was closed. She carefully turned the handle, and winced when the door made a much louder noise than she would have preferred. It was much too silent. Inside the house, and outside. It quickened her heartbeat. She was tempted to do something, anything, to draw attention away from the quietness. She contemplated turning on a radio, but deemed that a horrible idea for reasons she didn’t really know. Perhaps her intuition and common sense was still intact, for all she knew. It was fortunate that her mild fear of the dark kept her from doing anything too rash. “C-C-Crest?” Jazz’s voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. No way her roommate could have heard that, should she even be awake. Each year, somewhere between ten and thirty ponies go missing among all of Equestria. The rumors had always said that those who don't fall asleep are the ones who disappear, but it has never been proven true. The chances that Jazz and Crest, roommates in the same household, disappear during the same Townsend are next to nil. Equestria was quite populous. Her hopes died just a little bit, along with her courage. Jazz gulped, and it hurt. She didn’t exactly know what to do. Trusting her instincts, she forced herself to take a left, and head down the hallway towards her friend. She didn’t wish to be alone anymore. Her hoofsteps felt as if they were being echoed along the not just the hallway, but the world. Her mind was a flurry of doubts, stress, and restlessness. She couldn't keep a straight thought in her mind even if she wanted to. Jazz reached Crest’s room in a matter of seconds, golden eyes in a sea of black despair. They moved in a seemingly random and quick manner. “Crest?” Jazz’s normally husky and thick voice was reduced to nothing but a shell of its former self. “Hello…? Please answer me.” She knocked on the door, once. Nothing. Once more. No reply. Jazz opened the door anyways. Crest’s white face was rested on her pillow on the other side of the room. Her eyes were sleep, and her chest rose and descended like some kind of sick metronome. Her short, green mane was strewn about. She looked exactly how Jazz wished herself could had looked. Why did Crest get to fall asleep during the Townsend, and not her? Jazz's revelations suddenly came forth from the muddy wasteland that was her brain. What would Crest think when she woke up one week later and realized that her best friend was gone? Jazz felt like crying. She had so much to see, and do. She couldn’t disappear. She just didn’t want to. All of her fears in life had prepared her for this very moment, as if her destiny was to experience true terror at its finest. What was she to do now? The clock on Crest’s wall read 12:33 AM. Jazz probably would have stood there until the sun came up. But then everything turned red. It was odd. It was as if Jazz had merely blinked, and it all changed. It caused her to yelp, very loudly. The moonlight that had been coming through Crest’s window was now tinted a bright red, the color of rose petals and blood. The walls were tinted crimson, the floor, even Crest’s white body. It was as if somepony had put a red sheet of paper in front of the dazzling moon. After Jazz had regained her composure, which only took about ten minutes of hysterical panting and wheezing, she stopped. What was going on? With her heart leaping out of her chest, she practically crawled over to the window. She peeked her head outside, shaking so hard that her mane was having difficulty coming to rest. Her body was shivering horrendously, and her mouth tasted of iron. At some point, she had bit onto her lip -- hard. She gasped at what she saw. The moon was gone, the clouds were gone. The silent streets of Stableside were unlit, untouched, untreated. The sky itself was a unified block of color. It looked down upon the world, as if it was bleeding for Jazz and it alone. Author's Note I wrote this because I felt inspired, and for the love of God, I just wanted to write something. It may not match up to my other work, but I enjoyed writing it, and that's what matters. Thanks for reading. Please, let me know if you'd like me to continue. -Cyneryk PS. Please ignore any mistakes. I'll go through and clean it up later.
Chapter TwoThat was it. It was over. Jazz was allowed no more. Just as soon as the sky turned a color she was sure to be acquainted with soon anyway, it had disappeared. The flash had only been there for a few key moments before somepony flipped the "off" switch. If she focused enough, the tint was still there in the back of her eyelids. It chilled her. Never in her life had she seen the sky turn that color. The idea was horrendously obvious, but Jazz wasn’t very keen on realizing it. The Townsend had begun. She turned back to Crest and her quiet, shallow breathes. Her body rose and fell with every breathe of the air that Jazz was struggling to take in. “Crest? Crest, please wake up…” Jazz whimpered pathetically, like a puppy standing next to it’s fallen master. She knew what she was doing was selfish — waking up her friend and bringing her into a potential nightmare just so she wouldn’t have to be so alone. But Jazz knew Crest, and the one thing she could always depend on was the fact that Crest could keep her safe. Jazz put a shaking hoof on Crest’s side, and lightly shook. “Crest? Crest, please, you have to get up.” As much as Jazz wanted to raise her voice, she most she could do without breaking out into full blown panic was to just croak out the words. The house was silent. The world was silent. Jazz was silent. Jazz’s shakes grew rougher, and faster, until eventually the mare was almost pushing her friend off of her own bed. “Crest! Come on, don’t leave me alone! I can’t…” It was no use. There was no way the mare was getting up anytime soon. At least, not until the week was over. That’s right. Anyone who fell asleep won’t wake up until the end of the Townsend — one week from now. Jazz had never heard of anypony who had actually woken up during the fated week. Jazz was wasting her energy. Jazz’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and a few frightful tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh no, no... “ she muttered to herself as she swept her mane back from in front of her face. She was alone. She was terribly, terribly alone. She took a deep breath, and wiped the tears off of pinked cheeks. “Calm down, please, just…” she whispered to herself. The longer she thought about it, the more she came to terms with the fact that she was on her metaphorical death bed. That was the gist of it. Her family in Canterlot would wake up after the week had passed, rejuvenated and pleased. Then, it’d turn to tragedy as they realize that their darling daughter had become a victim of The Townsend. She would become nothing but a memory to everypony that she'd ever known. She couldn’t just hide in her house. She sniffed and looked up, and out the nearby window. “Maybe…” she whimpered, as she contemplated her future. Maybe… there’s somepony else who didn’t fall asleep…? Maybe I’m not the only one awake in town. Jazz didn’t like the idea of going outside, but she had no choice. Thinking logically, there was a chance of there being somepony else awake. But then again, there was no way to be sure. She would feel much better if she had somepony else at her side, rather than sitting in her home for a full week, hiding like a foal. She was going to die anyway. She had to take a chance. Tossing aside every childish will that told her to stay and hide, she quietly slid back into her room. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. She slid her peach colored satchel over her head, and took one more deep breathe. She then wandered to the restroom, cleaned herself up, and made her way to the front of her house. Her satchel carried her everyday essentials, such as her keys and wallet, but she a bit too bothered to discard them and leave them behind. The view from Jazz’s doorstep was exactly what she expected: pure nothingness. The streets were as empty as Jazz had ever seen them, even for a little after midnight. The crickets had taken their leave, as well as everypony in town. Poking her head outside was the equivalent to entering one of those sound protected rooms Jazz had heard so much about, the ones that cancel every single morsel of noise. The silence didn’t make her feel any better. The air nipped at her nose, and so she was forced to stifle yet another pathetic sniffle. “Hello?” She cried out to the void. Jazz had been about Stableside in the dead of night a few times before. The darkness that shrouded the normally pleasant town was nothing compared to how she felt right then. It had taken Jazz a few moments for Jazz to realize the overabundance of the pitch black around her. For being pretty close to the dead center of town, she could hardly see her neighbors’ homes. It took her a little longer than she’d like to notice that the streetlights had turned off at some point. “Flashlight…” she told herself. If she was going to run around, she needed a flashlight. The last thing she needed was to trip over something while feeling around through the dark, or worse yet, fall into a well -- which Stableside had quite a few of. There had been folk tales of foals who fell into wells, created by concerned mothers and fathers to prevent their children from playing too close to them. It had taken Jazz approximately ten seconds to walk back inside, locate her favorite yellow flashlight from the cabinet in the kitchen, and make her way back outside. “There, now I might not trip over my own hooves,” she muttered as she closed her front door behind her. “Now, where to…” Maybe it would have been smarter to come up with a game plan before walking outside… Regardless, Jazz turned left. She knew for sure that heading north — deeper into the town — was probably for the best. “The police station… somepony has to be there,” she murmured. Jazz could see nothing except for what she was shining her flashlight on, as if her own town was playing a devilish game of peekaboo, or reenacting one of her favorite horror novels. She kept her flashlight pointed directly in front of her, refusing to move it even an inch for the fear of seeing something she’d rather not see coming. The last thing she needed was to shine her flashlight on a small animal and have a heart attack. Every step on the cobblestone below her was a call for help. The world around her was so foreign and gross that it was merely a shell of its former, lively self. She couldn’t keep herself from tripping over small, round indents in the ground that she never saw until it was too late. Had it rained recently? It didn’t smell like it, but the indents were full of a strange clear liquid she could only assume was water. “Careful…” she told herself. Either way, the last thing she needed was a sprained hoof. The police station was quite a walk away, so Jazz let out a breath. “Okay… maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought it would be,” she whispered just a little louder. Perhaps she was just overreacting. “It’s… it’s just the dark. It’ll be daylight soon anyway… maybe-” And that’s when she heard it. There was no mistaking it. It was the only sound that she had heard since the Townsend began that didn’t come from her own actions or body. It was a thumping sound, like somepony banging on the side of the house — loud, continuous… Heavy.
Chapter Three“Hello…?” Jazz called out, only to be greeted with the twisted sound of stillness. Where did it go? She was sure that she had heard something, not even a few seconds ago — some sort of weird, thumping sound that followed the beat of a metronome. Was somepony trying to get her attention? For just a brief second, Jazz’s face actually relaxed when that little sliver of hope emerged. “Hello? Is somepony out there?” Jazz’s flashlight had begun to shake a little harder in her hooves. The pessimism was starting to set in, causing a few fearful tears to well up in her eyes. She was tempted to close her eyes, shake it off, and keep moving — however she wasn’t that dense. Jazz took a small breath, and worked up every single inch of courage she had. Jazz slowly turned around. Nothing. The mare’s yellow eyes scanned the horizon. The street was untouched — uninhabited by anypony else but her. Jazz let out a relieved sigh, turning her attention to the ground for merely a moment. “Get a hold of yourself…” Jazz muttered, cursing herself for letting her mind play tricks like that. “Just… calm down." Despite what she was telling herself, she was certain of what she had heard. That strange pounding sound was still ringing in her eardrums — a memento of her inner fears and nyctophobia manifesting themselves in real life. Though, she couldn’t think about it. She internally screamed at herself to knock it off. She hadn’t heard a thing. It was just her mind. She had to keep moving. The police station was awaiting her. Jazz turned back around, keeping her flashlight pointed way into the distance. The police station was still a mile or so away. She had a ways to go. If somepony else was still awake, they’d have to be there, right? J Jazz’s father’s words played in her head like a broken record. “If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come down to the station. No one can hurt you here, pumpkin. Someone is always here to help you.” If only she hadn’t made the decision to move from Canterlot to Stableside. Her father had been so proud of her moving out and taking on the world on her own. However, she knew her father’s station like the back of her hoof. Jazz kept walking. One step. Two step. Three steps. She passed the homes of ponies of whom she just vaguely knew. She passed a park that was home to many memories created by the community that she would probably never speak to again. She passed the store that she would walk to every morning for groceries. She passed the cafe, the only true outlet she ever had. As she walked past each and every one of her standing memories, she cherished every step away from them she took, especially the coffee shop. Her years of performing her poetry were some of her favorites. From the eccentric crowd constantly being drawn in to the wonderful aroma, to the shamelessly passionate music and stories that have been told on that small stage in the back of the shop. She stopped upon the thought, after having walked a good number of blocks from her home. Her eyes grazed the sign hanging on top — the one that read “Bits and Bites Coffee”. The sign itself was created by the middle school a few miles down the road. Bits, and her younger sister, Bites, actually paid the school’s art program and their excited kids to create the sign. The result was a very boisterous, flower and coffee bean covered sign that Jazz could see from all the way down the road. Jazz gave in after she could still smell the sweet coffee grounds radiating in the air. Jazz kept her flashlight aimed at the glass doors, and for the first time since she made her way to the police station, veered from the road. Her hooves clopped on the concrete below her as she walked forward. “I wish I would have brought my pen and paper, at least,” she mused. The small sign in the window said “Closed! Happy Townsend!”, followed by a crudely drawn smiley face that could have been done by nopony else but Bites. Jazz sighed. What she’d give for a mug of their coffee right about then. It was a shame that coffee was one of the last things in the world she needed at the moment. Jazz turned around, but then she stopped. Thump. Thump. Thump. There it was — that sound. She was sure she had heard it this time, however it was way closer than before, albeit muffled, like someone was punching a pillow with upstanding might. “Hello?” Jazz whispered. The sounds were too close to ignore, and it seemed to come from inside of the coffee shop. Her heart quickened at her own very specific idea. “Hello? Is somepony in there?” Jazz lowered the flashlight, and grabbed the handle of the door. Locked. “Is somepony there? Please, let me in!” she cried, raising her voice for the first time. She shook the handle a few more times than necessary, as the thumping grew louder. Whatever was in there must have been bumping into things, and making quite a racket. Jazz had had enough. She turned off her flashlight and gently placed it in her satchel. She put her left hoof on the glass, and peered inside. “Hello-” On the other side of the glass, not even five feet away from the door, were eyes. Large, peering eyes — the size of basketballs. Eight of them. Jazz jumped back, and let out a throat-shattering scream that had the potential to wake every single sleeping pony in Stableside, and not a moment too soon. From inside of the coffee shop, whatever was peering back at her let out a shrill, ear-bursting cry that shook the earth below her. The sound was ungodly — a noise that rattled her brain and made her eyes go so wide that they started to hurt from the lack of moisture. It sounded like a pig was being slaughtered right in front of the world’s largest megaphone. Jazz fled immediately, hardly getting a look at the monster in the window before making a full sprint down the road. Not even four steps later, she heard the mighty crash of the glass doors exploding just behind her. She wasn’t a rocket scientist, but she knew immediately what was happening. Whatever the creature was, it rammed through the glass doors, possibly destroying the front of her favorite building. However, Jazz wasn’t concerned about that. What was, indeed, bothering her was the simple fact that whatever had the strength to break an entire glass entrance… Was outside with her. Jazz let loose another deafening scream, unable to bring herself to look at the monstrosity behind her. She forced her legs to move, despite the fact that they had turned to jelly moments ago. The frightful tears in her eyes only made it difficult to tell where she was going in the darkness of Stableside. Thump! Thump! Thump! The sounds that the monster made followed her as she ran, screaming like an absolute banshee down the road that led to the police station. The thumping sounds were chasing her, getting closer and closer as the mare’s adrenaline finally kicked in at full maximum. The thumping sounds were the monsters footsteps. She hadn’t heard a pony earlier — she had heard this monsters steps… stalking her for blocks and blocks. The sounds came closer, as did the shrill cry that the screeching cry that could have penetrated the heavens. Whatever the monster was, it was faster than her, and it rattled the very air that entered Jazz's lungs. Jazz welcomed death. She knew she was going to die ever since she found herself awake that night. However, after having stared it right in the face, Jazz couldn’t bring herself to die. Jazz’s hooves moved at mach speed, faster than she had ever documented herself running in her life. Her heart felt like it was going to explode as the monster sprinted right along behind her as an astonishingly quick pace. No matter how fast Jazz would run, the monster would always be moving faster — gaining on her, reaching for her… hungry for her. There was no way to outrun it. She was going to die. Jazz tried to holler actual words, but all that came out was a garbled mess. Every attempt to call for help came in vain. Even if she could get it out, nopony would hear. Nopony was awake. She was the only occupant of Stableside. Not for long. She sprinted past the pharmacy, and took a hard left at the intersection. The monster cried out, and another loud crash was heard. Had it ran into something? Jazz would never know. Whatever happened, she hoped it slowed whatever was chasing her down as she entered the middle of town. The police station! She had no other choice. She couldn’t run forever. Her heart could only take so much before it would simply explode on its own — making an easy meal out of her. As the buildings around her grew in size and shape, Jazz made a hard right onto Mayberry street. Another cry escaped from the monster, one that threatened to destroy Jazz’s sensitive eardrums. Jazz wanted to wipe the tears out of her eyes, but the risk of her tripping over herself was too large. She was so close — only a block away. She dipped into a thin alleyway, barely managing to squeeze through. She ran. She ran, and ran, and ran, as the sounds of the monster grew quieter and quieter. It’s defeated cries and hungry shrieks dying out as it was left behind on Mayberry street, unable to fit through the alleyway Jazz hadn’t even thought about being an escape route. She hadn't been thinking at all, actually. She couldn’t bring herself to. The word “Run!” replayed over and over and over in her mind until she made it to the police station, one of the only places in town that was prepared with a backup generator. It’s lights shown brightly in the dark, disgusting streets as Jazz made a beeline. She practically slammed into the door, failing to open it before she could slow herself down. Much to her gratefulness, the door opened. Jazz disappeared inside, bathing herself in light as the door gently closed behind her. She damn near broke every door that came in her way, until she reached the stairs leading to the cells. After taking a single step, Jazz tripped. Landing on a very uncomfortable part of her front leg at the bottom of the staircase, she dared not to stop and assess the damage she had caused. She got up, and started limping. Opening the door with her injured hoof, she jumped behind the desk. Dad, where are they? You always said they’d be here! Police officers always kept them here! Had it not been for the dimly swinging light in the middle of the room, Jazz would have never been able to locate the keys for the jail cells. She didn’t even celebrate. She tossed herself in the cell, potentially hurting herself further. She got up, and hurriedly closed the barred jailed door. She stuck one of the many keys in the lock located near the edge of the door, and jumped back, neglecting to make sure the keys were secured to the lock. She didn’t notice them fall out, and bounce off the floor about ten feet away. She wasn’t worried about that. Everything was still, once again. Jazz’s twitching eyes showed no relief as she finally brought herself to fully wail in fright. Her cries echoed off the cemented walls of the jail cell, and she collapsed on the lone mattress in the corner of the room. With aching legs and a wet face, Jazz dug her head in her hooves and trembled.
Chapter FourJazz had somehow managed to cry herself to sleep. It was discouraging, waking up to such silence. For a moment, she thought that she had finally escaped her own personal nightmare. The dim emergency light that lit the dank, moldy jail cell made Jazz’s eyes open wide. Despite the grogginess, fear overtook it by a mile. The recently cleaned mattress below her was reassuring, but it didn’t stop her from violently shivering. The cold concrete floor was wet, and a quick peer upwards saved Jazz the curiosity as a small leak dripped monotonously into a small puddle. Aside from the toilet in the corner of the room, the jail cell was completely empty. But, why am I still here? Jazz sat upwards, holding her head in her hooves like a drunkard after blacking out. She must have fallen asleep. There was no doubt in her mind. So why was there nopony there? The jail cell was silent, but it let Jazz tune in around her. She could hear nothing. No hoofsteps, no talking, nothing. A week should have passed, but a quick look at the clock proved that she had only been asleep for around eight hours. She was still in Hell. The Townsend. That’s when it all came flashing back to her, like a speeding carriage in the night. She was unable to fall asleep. She tried waking Crest to no avail, she wandered outside with her satchel — which she somehow still had, lying on the floor a few feet away. She went to the Cafe and… It. Jazz felt like she was going absolutely manic just by remembering it — the monster that tormented her. I was… chased here? Running it through her brain again, it sounded nuts. She didn’t even get a clear look at the monster that chased her, aside from those eight, soulless eyes that pierced through her very heart. It was fuzzy, and she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. She had to forget about monster, or whatever it was that she saw. If anything, it was just a dream. She had been wanting to come to the station, right? She probably came in and then hallucinated it out of panic. She wouldn’t accept anything else. So many questions, and each one drove Jazz more and more hysteric. Why was she still awake during the Townsend, even after falling asleep? Do you have to fall asleep the night of to ensure that you’ll be asleep for the whole week? What was that monster? What happened to the cafe? Jazz’s stomach growled, and the poor mare almost jumped. She put a hoof to her belly, and sighed. It’s morning. I’d feel much better moving around town now, with all the light. The blue mare scooted herself off of the mattress, all while shaking vigorously. She hadn’t eaten in quite some time now — her last meal being a small nutritional bar the evening prior. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see it, she knew the light was much safer should her dream about that monster have been real. Jazz grabbed her satchel off of the floor, dusted it off, and then swiftly put it on. Jazz reached the jail cell door, and attempted to open it. Nope. “Huh?” Jazz tried again, but with a little more force. The barred door hardly budged, and the mare furrowed her brow. Locked? Jazz groaned. Where did I put the keys? There was no way she was as dense as to lose them. With a quick rummage around her satchel, the mare was instantly overcome with worry. “Oh, no, no!” She barely noticed her aching body as she bent down to look through the mattress she had slept on, and on the floor surrounding it. “Please, they have to be…” Jazz was relieved when she had found them a few moments later. She had left them in the lock last night, or so she assumed. All that mattered now was that they weren’t there anymore. They were on the floor, about ten feet away near the guard’s desk. A few more tears fell down Jazz’s face upon the realization. She had screwed up — real, real bad. Jazz bent down, sliding her hoof through the jail bars in a desperate effort to grab the keys. She wasn’t even close, unable to reach even halfway. Her mind began to do calculations, wondering how in the world the keys managed to bounce that far. It didn’t take long for Jazz to focus on the bigger picture. She was locked in there. With nopony being able to let her out for at least six days. With that single thought, Jazz’s stomach roared in protest as she sat her rump down on the cold floor. With one cruel mistake, the mare had a whole new misery to experience. Instead of dying to some monster she wasn’t even sure was real, now she was going to die slowly — painfully. She was going to starve to death down there, in a damp jail cell. The tears flowed freely once again, and this time she was unable to stop herself. She had cried so much in the last day that half of it quickly turned into panicked shivering and sniffles. As if on cue, Jazz’s ears finally tuned into the clock in the corner of the room, taunting her. The mare threw her hooves down and grabbed her satchel, eager to look through it again. Please, tell me there's some kind of food in here. Jazz’s prayers failed to fall on anypony’s ears. She was horrified to discover just how ill-prepared she was. Aside from her usual things, like her wallet and house keys, the only other things she had were useless: sunglasses, her flashlight, a deck of cards, floss, some headache medicine, and a pen and small notepad that she was more than surprised to have found.. She took off her satchel and threw it to the side, relishing in the noise it made when it crashed against the brick wall. Everything she had on her was a joke. Now, she was going to starve because of it. Jazz lied back, stared at the ceiling, and closed her eyes. She left her hooves on her stomach. She forced herself to start getting comfortable. She had a feeling she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was fifteen hours later, almost approaching three in the morning, when Jazz had finally finished her song. It was nothing special, just a way to pass the time as she waited for herself to finally starve. There was a fluttering sensation in her chest as she read over it for what must have been the umpteenth time. Whether or not she got out of there alive or not, at least maybe her work could escape. Jazz let out a sigh, as she contemplated actually singing it. Her fear of her own voice was the reason why she called it ‘poetry’ instead of what it actually was: music. There was nothing stopping her, in fact, there was nopony awake anywhere in Equestria. She could do as she wanted. Despite this, her starving gut still told her not to. It had been a full day—plus some— since she had anything to eat or drink, and because of it, her stomach was throwing the biggest tantrum she had ever had to endure. Jazz hung her head, and put her notepad and pen back into her satchel. She could polish the song later, maybe. Perhaps I should go back to trying to fetch the keys. As much as she told herself that, she knew there was no way. Jazz had spent a few hours already trying to get the keys in whatever manner she could: from using her satchel as a lasso to actually tying the ending of her tail into a loop. Much to her disdain after that didn’t work, getting the knot out of her tail gave her so much grief that she actually had to stop and get a hold of herself before she had a breakdown. The ticking of the clock was driving her crazy, not to mention the fact that the monster she had dreamed of earlier replayed in her mind constantly, like a stuttering movie. Inside, the idea of it being a dream was silly, and obvious. Outside, the mare shook her head at the possibility. It was a shame that every single time she saw those eyes in her head she felt even sicker than the time before. Jazz suddenly tried again, opening her mouth and belting as loud as she could. “Is anypony out there? Please, help!” she cried desperately as each breath tore into her dry throat. It had only been a full day or so, yet it felt like much longer. Jazz was positive that ponies were supposed to go days without food or water, but she was quickly being proven wrong. Either way, it was Tuesday morning, and she could feel death looming over her. Perhaps it was all the running I did earlier, she pondered as she finally came to terms with the events of the night prior. She made her way onto the mattress, and curled up into a pathetic little ball. She did her best to nurture her pained belly, rubbing it to no avail. She was out of tears to cry, and she slowly accepted her fate. The poor mare closed her eyes tightly, right as a new sound perforated her ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. Just like that, her eyes snapped back open in a frenzy. “No… no… please, no…” she whispered to herself, as her shaking evolved into a full blown fit. She remembered that sound, and what it brought forth. It was coming from upstairs. Had it followed her? Did it have a way to penetrate the jail cell walls? Would she have enough energy to run? Jazz felt like the better question was: starve to death, or eviscerated and eaten by a gigantic monster? She could hardly think. Why would it come down here. It has no reason to, right? Did it hear me crying for help? I’m so stupid! Thump. Thump THUMP. Whatever what coming upstairs, Jazz heard the last thump come from something she knew was bad news: the top of the stairs leading to her jail cell. “Please, no…” she whispered below her breath. Her heart stammered so hard in her chest that it physically hurt. It was getting difficult to tell what was her heart and what was the monster. Thump. Thump. Whatever it was, it was definitely coming down the stairs. How could she have been so stupid as to have called for help when there was a monster running around, especially when she had nowhere to run? The monster reached the bottom of the stairs, but Jazz wasn’t looking anymore. If she was going to die, the last thing she wanted to see was herself getting thrown into a monster's jaws, or to see her own organs. She waited patiently, before a medium pitched voice pierced the jail room. “Dear Celestia, you’re awake!”
