Chapters Luna’s
Chapter 1
I don’t know how I ended up here, walking along this seemingly forgotten path. Around me was an endless sea of trees and a thick fog that made it impossible to see more than a dozen hooves ahead. Utter isolation. Birds, owls, even the crickets were silent. The lonely sound of the dirt shifting under my steps was all the company I had on this still night.
How long had I been walking? How long have I been on this path? How long have I been lost? I stopped dead in my tracks as those questions shoved themselves to the forefront of my mind. To my side, only towering pine trees as far as my eyes could see—which wasn't far with the fog so thick. I glanced the other way, finding it the same—more forest. Ahead and behind me only the endless path lie, the road I had traveled since I could recall.
I looked up. The blurred shape of the moon shone down into the fog. It sat directly overhead, something that shouldn’t be able to be seen from where I live. There were no stars either. I placed my hoof to my forehead; the more I examined this world around me, the less sense it made. My gaze slowly drifted downward with the endless road still before me. Where was this path taking me?
I turned my head to my side again, and my eyes went wide. I simply couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I hadn’t moved, nor turned away for long. This simply wasn’t possible, but yet there it stood. My heart raced as I stared at a two-story, red-brick building now next to me. Ordinary four-pane windows lined the front, but the interior was as dark as night itself. The exterior was weather-ravaged and clearly lacked care as though it were abandoned for a time. A double door sat on the right side of this building's face with dull, grey wood chipped and beaten by time. Perhaps it was even more haggard as the rest of the place, and in all honesty, it didn't seem the least bit inviting.
A bright glow flicked on suddenly, almost blinding me. Above the door hung a large neon sign with the word ‘Luna’s’ written in script. Fear swiftly melted away and immediately replaced with an urge to roll my eyes. The apostrophe in the word was a small heart and it was nearly impossible to read with a glance. Whoever owned this place didn’t know the first thing about attracting business.
I turned a gaze back to the endless forest. “Then again, perhaps they don’t need much attraction,” I grumbled to myself as I walked carefully up to the door.
Just before I placed my hoof on the door, it opened by itself. The eerie squeak of the hinges and the wood creaking under its own weight was enough to send a chill up my spine. I peered through the doorway, finding only pitch-black ahead of me.
As I inched closer, I noticed a light to my left that had not been visible through the windows a moment ago. I leaned in further, discovering the warm, orange glow of incandescent lights clashing against an ugly pale green wallpaper. The interior reeked of a library with hints of cigar smoke. There was a wood paneling that went shoulder high on the average mare along the bottom of the wall as well, which didn’t help the aesthetic much. Relics of a bygone era that had best stay buried.
When I took a step inside the pitch-black foyer, the sound of the hinges squealed behind me, again, of their own volition. I glanced back to only darkness for a mere moment, as though daring the door to move again. Though, honestly, it wasn’t worth the effort. I chose, instead, to ignore such a rude door and vocal hinges, venturing further into this strange building that had manifested through the fog.
As I passed through the entryway just beyond the foyer, I came upon a large, rectangular room. For a moment, I nearly stumbled back. Initially, I thought I wandered into some eccentric’s home or maybe a motel, but that wasn’t the case. Along the opposite wall from where I came in were a row of booths. A few tables dotted the remaining floor space with little care to their placement. The furthest wall had a tiny wooden stage open to the dining room. My eyes drifted further to my right, ending at the wall just next to me where a counter with stools seated with their backs to the rest of the establishment. But it was the wall behind the counter that gave it all away. A large assortment of bottles towering on shelves nearly to the ceiling with a mirror framed center. This was a bar.
And standing behind said counter was the most curious pony I had ever laid eyes on. She was tall—taller than any mare I could recall—her fur a deep blue and her mane simply out of this world. I do mean that in the most literal sense of those words. Completely unlike anything I had seen before. A wispy mass of actual night sky tied in a ponytail behind her head, twisting and turning, contained only by her own locks. She rested her head lazily against her hoof, staring at me with a small, strange smile on her face. Tired, but comfortable and she looked at me as though she had just seen an old friend. But, as inviting as she appeared, that was the last feeling I got from this pony. Between the magically appearing building and the oddity of her very appearance, something in my gut me told me to get away from her.
“Welcome to Luna’s,” the mare said with a soft, friendly voice. I couldn’t help but peer around the empty restaurant again. Once certain she wasn’t talking to anyone else, I nodded.
“I got that from the sign out front,” I muttered to myself. I took a few cautious steps towards the bar, before taking a seat. Every fiber of my being told me to leave this bar, each strand of fur standing on edge, my heart racing. The bartender pulled her hoof off the counter, letting her head dip a bit from the absence of its support. Slowly, she made her way towards me. Bad feelings aside, I stayed. The reason was simple. I didn't seem in danger here and this mare most likely had what I needed. Information. “Do you know where I am?” I asked her after a moment, my tone sharp.
“I just told you, you’re at Luna’s,” she said with a small laugh.
“I meant where is this—” Hoof circling in the air, I glanced around at the dining room again. Part of me hoped she’d offer some direction on what to call this place, but it never came. “—restaurant located?”
She laughed again. It was a creepy laugh, which is an odd way to describe a laugh for certain. Each note sat on the ear like an out of tune piano. “Sorry, but I only answer one non-menu related question a night.” The horn atop her head erupted in a deep blue aura. A thin scarlet-covered booklet appeared from behind the counter, held aloft in the same aura and was placed at my hoof that still rested on the counter. I turned my eyes from her to the worn bound book. In the same script that was on the sign outside read the word "Luna’s" in a gaudy gold text.
I shifted my gaze up from the menu set before me. She still had that smile on her face. “Luna’s. That’s a rather peculiar name for a restaurant.”
“It’s named after the owner.” Her horn lit up again, and this time a glass appeared from under the counter. A pitcher of water found its way up next and she poured some before she slid it over to me.
“Would that be you?” I asked, sliding my hoof under the menu cover to open it.
“I told you, only one non-menu question a night.” She gave a teasing smirk.
Smug and weird. I narrowed my eyes at the mare, whatever dread now dulled with annoyance. “This is a rather silly game,” I said dryly. "A silly game leading to terrible service. You’ll lose customers with that sort of attitude"
She just continued that smile of hers. “If it bothers you that much, feel free to take your business elsewhere.” That laugh of hers again filled the air. Three short, soft, high-pitched snickers following a tune I imagined was only in her head. It almost sounded like she was keeping a secret—poorly keeping one, anyway.
I glanced out the window, the fog and forest still waiting outside for me like a lost puppy. I let out a small chuckle myself—more defeated than from actual amusement. Monopolies were oh-so-fun, after all. “Point taken.” I turned my sights back to the scarlet cover of the menu.
“Something has to entertain me through the night.” I didn’t have to even look to feel her gaze upon me, smothering me like a bucket of cold water. “I beg you, don’t take that away from me.” A long, deep breath from her cut the momentary pause like a knife. “Though something tells me you and I will get along swimmingly .”
I swallowed a lump in my throat as that quiet sense of dread wormed its way up my spine. Whether she was simply sarcastic or if she really was that daft, I did not know, but it only reinforced my paranoia. I wrapped my hooves around the menu and spread held the open pages up as a wall of sorts. “So, what do you recommend?”
“It doesn’t matter what you order, the chef will make whatever she feels like.” She placed her hoof on the menu, pushing it down onto the counter. Her teal, bloodshot eyes staring right into mine. “I would start with the drink menu. I can be a bit more accommodating than the kitchen.”
I find that a little hard to believe, I almost said aloud, but I stopped myself.
“Believe it or not, I’m only here to help,” she said abruptly, causing my eyes to shoot up from the menu. I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off. “It was written all over your face.” She raised her hoof and rested her head against it once more.
She slumped onto the counter, sliding closer to me, far too close for my tastes. My body tensed as she drew closer, her unblinking eyes locked firmly on mine. The familiarity with which she treated me, the creepy laugh, the lazy tone, it was too much for me. Actually, everything about this restaurant was wrong. The painfully dated decor, the atrocious colour pallet, the sickening orange lights, but most of all, this pony. I pushed the menu away and leaned back on my stool for some breathing room. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any bits on me. I can’t afford to pay.”
The mare leaned back as well, tilting her head slightly. “Oh, don’t worry. We can open a tab for you,” she offered. Her eyes slowly blinked as that smile of hers grew wider.
I looked her over, eyebrow raised, but she didn’t flinch. It may have been she was just trying to be friendly but was very poor at it—socially awkward, perhaps. Overeager for any sort of company since this place didn’t seem to get much business. My eyes darted around the room once more before I decided I could get past its sickly nature. “Very well. I suppose I’ll just have a cup of coffee for now.”
“Coffee, hm?” She gave her giggle again. “Is there some reason you want to stay awake?”
“Habit, I suppose.” Memories of ponies all sitting in a circle on flimsy chairs holding foam cups in shaking hooves rushed to mind. I shook my head and took a deep breath. “My work often requires late nights.” I pushed the menu towards her, which she ignored.
She raised both her eyebrows and gave a haphazard shrug. “Too much caffeine is bad for you, but it’s not my body, I suppose.” She giggled again as she slid her foreleg off the counter. Her head dipped lazily again before she caught it. Her horn lit up and she brought a coffee pot up to a machine behind the counter.
“I never did get your name,” I said as I watched her prepare my beverage.
“Now you’re catching on.” She gave a slight nod. “I’m Luna.”
“I had a feeling you would say that,” I muttered to myself. When I noticed her raising an eyebrow, I cleared my throat. “I don’t see the point in playing games with your customers.”
“It’s all in good fun, I assure you.” Her attention turned back to the coffee pot as it started to fill with beautiful trickles of black liquid. Soon, all that was heard in the empty restaurant was the sound of the coffee machine roiling with hot water and the drip of the brew hitting the bottom of the pot. The conversation died between us as we both found ourselves staring impatiently at the machine.
Finally, after minutes, Luna broke the silence. “It doesn’t look like the fog will be lifting anytime soon. If you need, we have rooms available upstairs.” She giggled again.
“On my tab, I’m assuming…” I retorted with a dry tone.
“Of course,” she said with a blink that lasted a little longer than usual.
I turned my attention out the window, resting my head against my hoof. The fog hadn’t thinned in the slightest. But that wasn’t what concerned me the most. I still didn’t know why I was even in these woods or how I came to be lost within them. Even if the fog was gone, I had my doubts I would be able to find a way out. “I don’t suppose there’s a way out of these woods…”
“There’s a way out of any situation. It just depends on the levels to which you’re willing to stoop,” she replied with a tone I was starting to realise was far too common coming from her. She often spoke with a lazy, slow cadence, yet everything she said had this strange optimistic framing to it. To put it more simply, she sounded like a pony too jaded from the world to follow their own well-meaning advice. I couldn't say I had ever met a pony so cryptic before.
“So, I’m stuck here…” Suddenly everything made sense. Luna’s awkward friendliness, insisting on serving me, and wanting to keep me here—she wasn’t daft, she was shrewd. Too shrewd. Her love of games and riddles—she really had no reason to help me out of these woods. On the contrary, she could have me owing her a small fortune by the time I did leave. I narrowed my eyes at her. Her mousetrap had just snapped shut around my neck.
“Stuck until the fog clears,” she replied, setting a mug down in front of me.
Author's Note
Well, this is my attempt at a horror-esque dark comedy. I will say this right now, it won't be scary. I will be keeping these chapters under 2500 words, and hopefully, you will all enjoy the story as much as I have coming up with it.
Luna’s
Chapter 2
After a few cups of coffee, and a night spent mostly failing to get information out of Luna, I noticed that it was late. The clock on the wall behind her ticked on endlessly throughout the night, but I didn’t notice the actual time until it was already past three in the morning.
I pushed my empty coffee mug away, giving the waitress a small shake of my head as I did. The coffeepot she had readied in her magic lowered down below the counter slowly, as if dejected by its rejection. The mare’s dark blue magical aura soon appeared around my abandoned coffee mug, dragging it behind the counter as well. “Everything appears and disappears behind that counter…I hope it’s getting washed at some point…” I muttered grimly.
Luna laughed again in that same creepy way. “I’ll have you know we pass all our health inspections,” she replied with something vaguely resembling pride. Honestly, it was hard to tell through her lazy demeanor and soft spokenness.
Choosing to go with pride, I nodded. “That’s good to know.” I wanted to ask how well they passed them, but I realised that might be a bit rude. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.
She laughed again. Those same three, high-pitched, soft notes. Never before had somepony’s laugh stood out so starkly to me. Too many labels could be applied to that laugh, none particularly good. While it worried me, I didn’t plan on staying long. Once the fog was cleared in the morning, I would be leaving this hole in the wall, and hopefully never have that worrisome laugh plague my ears again. I pushed out my stool from the counter.
“Ready for bed already?” she asked, anticipating my answer by levitating a keychain up. On the ring were a few old keys. None of the keys looked anything like modern keys, which made me question exactly how old this building was.
As Luna stepped out from behind the bar, I slid down from the stool planting my hooves on the floor. Next to the counter, opposite side of the door into the restaurant, was a large archway that split in two directions. One way led up a set of rickety wooden stairs, the second down a dark hallway. I found myself staring at the abyss, almost feeling it look back at me. It sent a chill up my spine, the sense that an unknown terror lurked at the end of that hallway, watching me, waiting to pounce.
Suddenly, I felt Luna’s hoof touch my shoulder, making me jump. “I wouldn’t go down that way. That leads to the kitchen, and the cook doesn’t like unexpected guests. She says she needs time to prepare…Anyway, your room is upstairs.” She motioned for me to follow her as she stepped on the first wooden stair.
I didn’t realise how much taller she was than me until we were standing in front of one another without the bar between us. She was almost an entire head length taller than me. Without the counter for her to lean against, I thought she might hunch, but no. She stood tall, almost proud. Her frame, slender, almost elegant in the way she walked, but the grotesque dark red jacket she wore as a uniform simply spoiled what beauty she could have. It was a shame. She turned her head back briefly, glancing down at me with a small smirk. That gaze made me feel almost insignificant next to her, a feeling I didn’t appreciate.
“If you’re all ready for bed, you must have a powerful resistance to caffeine.”
“Tolerance,” I replied as my eyes wandered the walls. “Resistance implies a negative impact.” The way she spoke, it made caffeine sound like a disease, and coffee its carrier.
She only giggled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night." She stopped herself and shrugged. "Or not, in the case of coffee.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you have something against caffeine or coffee.” I decided to finally point out.
“We go to sleep, we rest, we wake up, we tire, we sleep again. It’s a perfect cycle.” She glanced back at me still boasting the dreadful smirk. “Caffeine breaks that natural flow, so of course it can’t be good for you. Sleep, on the other hoof, is as natural as death.”
“That’s a rather bleak outlook you have on life if you relate sleep to death…Death doesn’t seem too natural to me…”
“Everything dies, my dear. Nothing is more natural than that,” she said softly.
That sweet tone of hers was unsettling. No one should talk about death in such a light-hearted way. It didn’t seem right. To take my mind off this dreary conversation, my eyes started to wander as I followed her. The grotesque wallpaper from downstairs found its way upstairs as well, with the same aged wood paneling. The old floorboards creaked as we walked, almost sounding like the whines of a poor foal in pain. The sound sickened me. It seemed everything about this establishment was offensive.
After we reached the top of the stairs, there was a sharp right turn. A wooden banister traced the stairwell, doors on the opposite wall all leading down a hallway. I placed a hoof on the aged wood as I continued to follow Luna down the hall.
My hoof glided along the smooth railing as we walked. “Surprisingly sturdy given how everything else here looks like it’s on its last leg…”
“It keeps us from any—” Luna paused to contemplate for a brief moment “—sleepwalking mishaps.” She giggled once more.
“Do you enjoy telling such unseemly jokes?”
Luna only raised her eyebrows with a small smile on her lips. A question, but one I didn’t expect an answer to. Though I could tell from her reaction that the answer was undoubtedly, yes. From what I could gather, she was quirky, to say the least. Kind, attractive, but a twisted sense of humor. This mare was a bigger enigma than I would ever want to solve. Who knew what else lay beneath the surface of such a pony—or better yet, who would want to?
In fact, this entire restaurant was one giant riddle. There were so many things that didn’t add up, but I was too tired to think about them all. Maybe in the morning I’ll think about it.
As we came to the end of the hall, Luna stopped. I looked to my right, and found another set of stairs, but she didn’t look as though she was leading me up them. Was there a third floor from the outside? I tried to recall, but that little detail evaded me.
A sudden blue glow pulled my attention from the stairs back to this door. She took the rusted keys in her magic, and placed one into the keyhole. With a twist of the key, a loud clank came from the aged lock. Luna’s eyes met mine as she turned to me. She stepped back and gave the door a tiny push. She spread her foreleg out leading my gaze inside.
I kept a skeptical eye on her as I stepped into the doorway. When I finally looked inside, I was thoroughly unimpressed. There was a single wooden bed, barely big enough for a fully grown mare tucked away in the corner. A desk with a single piece of paper, an empty inkwell, and a lamp that was already sitting on top of it across the meager living space from the bed. To the immediate left of the door was a tiny armoire, just big enough for all the luggage I didn’t have. “Cozy,” I instinctively remarked with a dry tone.
“You’re lucky. Our biggest room just opened up today.”
“This is your biggest…” I said, barely hiding my discontent.
I didn’t see it, but I could picture her nodding silently behind me with that teasing smile of hers. I closed my eyes, and fought the urge to rub my forehead due to a building headache. “What choice do I have…”
“Not much of one, unless you would rather sleep in the woods tonight.”
A nagging thought popped into the back of my head that I wished didn’t. “Being the only establishment out here and using a tab system…” I heard a small sound, affirming that Luna was listening. I sighed, immediately regretting the question I was about to ask. “Your rooms are reasonably priced, correct?”
I heard Luna giggle behind me which made my entire body tense. “Only one non-menu related question a night,” she casually reminded me as she started walking back down the hallway. “Pleasant dreams.”
I couldn’t stop myself from sighing. With little choice, I closed the door, turned off the lamp, and climbed into the bed barely big enough for a grown pony. My foreleg offered what little comfort it could by covering my eyes as I lay in the dark, silent room. Perfect…
Luna’s
Chapter 3
I awoke to a soul-shattering crash. My eyes popped open and immediately scanned around the vaguely familiar room around me. With a groan, I sat up and placed my hoof to my forehead. What time is it? I asked silently as I glanced around to find a clock.
Another horribly loud crash made me nearly jump out of my skin. I gave up on the clock, now more irritated than curious about the time. “Alright, what the hell is going on?” I climbed out of bed. As soon as my hooves touched, I felt a bone-biting chill from the floor. “Apparently this place doesn’t know what heating is,” I muttered as I made my way across the room.
Just as I opened the door, I heard the familiar click of a lock. I poked my head outside to see Luna standing in front of the room next to mine. She had a bored, but superior look to her. It was a look I saw often in my line of work. However, when she noticed me poking my head out from my room, her expression softened to the one I was familiar with. The look in her eyes went from bored with the tedium of life to the lazy cheerful cynic I had come to know. “Sleep well?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Unfortunately no,” I replied skeptically. “What was that noise?”
“What noise?” she asked, feigning innocence.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “There was a noise in the room next door,” I said, dryly.
She gave a small nod as a smile formed on her face. “The other guest was a little—” she glanced back to the door she had closed a moment earlier “—rambunctious.” She finished with that creepy giggle of hers before turning her eyes back to me.
I groaned quietly to myself. Even after some sleep, that laugh hadn’t become more bearable. “It sounded a tad more dramatic than that, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I don’t mind.” She shrugged. “Everypony is entitled to their opinion.” She turned her back to me and began to head down the hallway.
“That’s not what I meant,” I retorted, barely concealing my contempt.
Luna paused a few steps down the hallway. “She’s been a guest here for a long time,” she replied, turning her head back towards me. “I would suggest avoiding contact with her if possible. She can be a bit much to handle.” She was too far away for me to hear it, but I imagined her laughing again.
I cringed at my own imagination for playing such a cruel trick. “I suppose I’m more surprised there are more guests here than just myself.” I said, pushing the disgust from my mind.
Luna shrugged. “Even we have our regulars.” As she spoke, she shook her head.
“Regulars? I can't imagine ponies actually coming to this restaurant of their own volition.”
“Well, we do have some of the best food and atmosphere around, after all.”
I sighed. “We’re in a forest. I wouldn’t consider that a big accomplishment,” I muttered under my breath. “But you mentioned regulars. You don’t sound too thrilled about that. Should I be worried?”
Luna raised her eyebrows and gave a playful smile. I felt my jaw clench hard in frustration. “One non-menu question a night,” I muttered.
She nodded.
“Speaking of night, what time is it, anyway?” I asked glancing back into my dark room. My eyes scanned the walls and desk to find that a clock was nowhere to be found. “Odd,” I said under my breath.
When I looked back, I noticed she was still smiling. I pressed my hoof into my forehead hard. “I’m a little too tired for this, Luna. If you could please just tell me something easily for once, that would be wonderful.”
“My hooves are tied,” she teased. “But, if you’re interested in the time, you have plenty of information to make an educated guess.”
I pulled my hoof away from my face. I glanced back into my room. It was dark outside still, or perhaps again was the right word. She already answered a question of mine, which means it’s a new night. I looked back to her to see she was now facing me. “I must have been asleep for a long time.”
“I’m certain I warned you—caffeine ruins your sleeping schedule, right?” She had a small, condescending smile.
I glared at her. “Caffeine has never messed with my sleep schedule this much.”
She threw her hoof in the air helplessly. “You may have also been tired from your journey. How long were you walking, again?”
“I…” I stopped. The answer should be natural. It only happened last night, but even then I didn’t know. The more I tried think about it, the more it felt like it was just out of my reach, barely grazing the tip of my hoof before slipping away once more. I pinched my eyes shut. “I-I don’t know,” I muttered. “Just how long had I been walking?” I asked aloud, but didn’t expect an answer.
I looked up to see Luna lazily staring at me with that same smirk. “You must have been exhausted then,” she remarked with a blatantly fake concern. “And then all that coffee to keep you awake. Your body just needed to make up for lost time.”
I looked at the wooden floor. “Maybe…” Something ate at me. It wasn’t right. I felt like I should remember, but I couldn’t. I shook my head in an attempt to clear the doubt from my mind. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Maybe I am.” She laughed again.
Something inside me told me not to trust her. Deep down, my entire being felt like it was screaming. It shouted that this didn’t make sense, that things didn’t add up, but they did. Did they? I pressed my hoof to my forehead again as I closed my eyes. They did. I was just too tired to think straight. In an instant, that doubt quelled.
I didn’t trust her, but what she said made sense. At the very least, I had to think about it. I had to think about everything here. I had to think how I ended up in this forest. Thinking would make it all clear in time.
When I opened my eyes, Luna was standing in front of me. “Are you alright?” Her concern was still blatantly fake, but I wasn’t sure if she had it in her to be sincere.
Reluctantly, I nodded my head. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” She smiled. “The restaurant is open downstairs. When you’re ready, feel free to come get something to eat.” With that, she turned and left.
Once she was gone, I closed the door to my room behind me. While I wasn’t exactly hungry, there wasn’t much for me to do here. I could at least get something to drink, and if I had any luck, maybe one of her ‘regulars’ might be able to help me out of this forest.
I glanced at the door to the room next door as I passed. I could hear somepony on the other side, muttering something inaudible. I paused in front of the aged door, placing my hoof on the wood. Against Luna’s warning, I asked, “Are you alright?”
The unintelligible murmuring stopped. There was a long pause as I waited for the pony’s reply, but after a few moments, it didn’t seem as though it would come. Shrugging my shoulders, I started to walk away. But, just as I passed the door, I heard a voice whisper from the other side. “Don’t trust Luna.”
Luna’s
Chapter 4
Pushing the rude awakening I received from my mind, I went down the rickety stairs to join Luna in the restaurant. Much to my expectation, the bar was, in fact, empty. I peered around the corner from the stairs to see Luna standing at the bar with her usual bored expression. This time, I couldn’t blame her. The place was dead.
Before venturing out into the dining room, I glanced back up stairs once more. Whoever that pony was upstairs didn’t seem to be coming down behind me. Her soft-spoken words still echoed in my mind, almost like they were haunting me. Luna advised me not to engage with her…but then again, that pony told me not to trust Luna… I sighed. It was a bit circular, but the answer honestly wasn’t that difficult. I shrugged my shoulders in resignation. “I think I’ll take both of their advice,” I muttered before moving forward.
Once I stepped into the bar, the floorboards creaked under my weight, not that the sound of my hoofsteps wouldn’t have given me away. Luna lazily glanced my way. Her exhausted smile greeted me in an oddly warm way. “That didn’t take long,” she said softly, though loud enough to hear. “I was wondering when you would finally come out from behind that wall. Can I get you some coffee?”
I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the empty bar for guests, even though there wasn’t a soul around. “I think I’ll pass tonight,” I replied. After I had satisfied my curiosity, I climbed onto the bar stool and joined Luna. “I would like to get to wake up at a decent hour and after last night…”
“You’re already too late for that, but if you would rather go to sleep early, I won't stop you.” Luna shrugged as she lowered her foreleg from the counter. “Though I thought you liked caffeine.” She giggled, which only made me roll my eyes. “But, if you would prefer, we do have just about anything you could want here.” She softly tapped the counter top.
“Water for now.” I placed my foreleg on the counter and rest my head against my hoof. Watching her prepare a glass of water wasn’t particularly interesting, so I shifted my gaze towards the window. What little hopes I had upon waking were deflated when I was greeted with the wispy haze outside. The forest was still covered in the dense fog from the previous night. I furrowed my brow and growled a bit in frustration. “How is it still foggy?”
Luna placed a glass in front of me. When I looked up to her, I saw she was only smiling that condescending grin. It was the same look she always had when I asked her a question after her silly little limit was reached. “It’s odd…” I clarified.
“What is?” A pitcher filled with ice and water appeared from behind the counter, held aloft in her magic. She poured me a glass, still smiling at me the whole time.
Sadistic mare… I sighed. She enjoyed this game of hers too much. It was obvious she was playing dumb, anything to give me that smirk of hers again when I asked her a question. “It’s odd that there is still fog. One would expect it to clear by now.”
Luna nodded softly. “The fog lasts a long time here. Sometimes days, sometimes weeks.” She giggled again. Two cubes of ice fell into the glass, causing a splash. Before the droplets hit the counter though, she caught them with her magic and funneled them back inside the glass. Her eyes shifted from the water to mine. When our eyes met, I could see a twisted sense of glee. “Even months on a few occasions.”
My eyes went wide for a brief moment. It took a few seconds for what she said to truly sink in. I could feel my heart sink down further in my chest as I stared at her. She was still boasting that smile, clearly enjoying the look of desperation on my face. Slowly, I turned my head back to the window, watching the fog slowly drift by like an endless sea, trapping me in this forest. “Surely, you can't be serious…” I said, weakly.
“I am serious and don’t call me—”
I shot a piercing glare at her, stopping her before she could finish.
She was taken aback for a brief moment before her expression quickly softened to its usual casual self. It wasn't long for a soft smile to appeared on her face once again either. She used her magic to push the water closer to me, which I took with my hoof once it was in reach. “Perhaps one of our regulars might be able to help you out of this forest when they come,” she offered as a consolation, or at least what I assumed was her attempt at consoling. “They are quite the colorful cast, some of them…” She looked towards the window.
I rolled my eyes before folding my forelegs in a huff. “I don’t see how that will help.”
“Others’ experience can help you. After all, they had to get in these woods themselves, right?”
My ears perked up at the mention of that. If they are in this restaurant, then there is a way out. My heart stopped aching with disappointment with that bit of optimism.
Luna giggled again. That sound immediately dashed my new-found hope. It was a prelude to her usual brand of cynicism that I would rather live without. “Though, what luck would it be if they, too, don’t remember how they got here…” My gaze drifted up to see Luna smirking. That same condescending smirk she had when she refused to answer. “It’s a possibility.”
She really is sadistic… I couldn’t hold back my glare, despite how rude it might be. “Why must you always dash my hopes?” I asked, not expecting a response. Indeed, I was right. She only continued that devilish smirk before turning her back to me. My head sunk down into my crossed forelegs on the counter in front of me.
“High hopes only lead to disappointment,” she said before leaving the bar.
Luna’s
Chapter 5
I stared down into the steaming hot liquid placed in front of me. Even without the excuse of caffeine, I found myself waking up after dark once more. The moon was still full and the fog still thick outside, leaving me to feel as though this place never changed. As I watched the steam slowly rise, I honestly asked myself if time was really passing here, or if it was all some strange dream.
I glanced up from my cup to see Luna standing behind the counter across the room. Rather than grace myself with her infuriating sense of humor tonight, I chose to sit in one of the booths along the wall. My eyes slowly drifted back to my table with contempt. I had hoped for a little more comfort than a barstool, but that was quickly dashed.
The sickly red fabric and worn cushions of the benches simply weren’t comforting in the slightest. The haggard wood that composed the tabletop didn’t help ease my disgust either. It was chipped, mostly grey from age, and clearly had stains from drunken nights of the past.
“Everything about this place seems like it’s about to fall apart,” I muttered to myself as I raised my mug. Just as I took a sip of my coffee a sound caught my ear. Luna and I both turned our attention to the source. I felt my heart almost leap in joy for a moment when I recognized what that sound was. The creaking of the front door.
I sat up in anticipation as a pony—a mare—stepped out from the foyer. Luna greeted her guest with her usual lazy grin as she walked in and took a seat on a stool in front of the owner. She had an orange coat, a straw blond mane, and wore a stetson hat. Just by her looks I could already hear the bumpkin-esque drawl in her voice and shuddered.
Certainly, she had quite an odd fashion choice, though I refuse to believe it was just by my standards. She fit the bill of a southern farmer stereotype perfectly, an image I couldn’t picture somepony purposefully projecting. I sighed, feeling my hope of escaping this forest slipping away. Of course, I knew I shouldn’t judge, since I was a long way from home, after all. Judging somepony for their appearance wasn’t proper and it often led to making baseless assumptions, but I couldn’t help it. These types often were leery of outsiders, so her giving me directions might backfire if I wasn’t careful.
“Howdy, Luna,” the mare said as she tipped back her hat. I cringed as a small voice in the back of my head gleefully congratulated itself. “I’ll take my usual, if ya don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Luna’s horn lit up and a bottle appeared from under the counter. She placed it in front of the mare with an almost condescending grin. “Our finest cider, right?”
The cap popped free effortlessly and was caught in a dark blue cloud before it could land on the counter. The mare scoffed. “Finest? I don’t know if I’d say that.” She grabbed the bottle and tossed it back. After a few gulps she slammed it back down. “Where I’m from, we got some of the best cider, I’ll have ya know.”
Luna laughed. “I’ve heard. Many times.” She rested her hoof against her head and leaned against the counter. She stared at the mare take another drink with all the enthusiasm of watching grass grow, but still that smile remained. “You always mention how it’s better than our cider.”
“Well, it’s the truth. The Apple family’s been growin’ some of the finest apples for generations. Cider only comes natural after that.” The mare looked down at the bottle, examining the liquid inside as she sloshed it back and forth. “Like, this here? It’s got some bad apples in the bunch.”
I sighed as I listened to the painfully mundane conversation for a chance to interject. Though, I did have to admit, the sound of another’s voice besides Luna’s was a breath of fresh air. Maybe I should just ask, I thought, but I realised it would come off as rude to interrupt.
Luna shrugged. “I’ve never touched the stuff myself.”
“Ya should try it.” She tipped the bottle back. “A little cider ain’t never hurt nopony.”
“I prefer not to make a fool of myself.”
She shot a piercing glare in Luna’s direction. “I’ve never made a fool of myself on it. Ya implyin’ something?”
Luna shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Good.” She nodded. “Besides, cider’s a big deal where I’m from. Ponies come from miles around for when the Apple family sells our cider.”
Luna had a devilish smirk show through her polite smile and bored look in her eyes. I caught her eyes shift over to me for a brief moment, and then her lips spread ever so slightly wider. That look instantly made my blood run cold. “Speaking of, where is it you’re from again?” she asked, innocently.
The mare blinked absently for a moment before furrowing her brow. “I’m from, uh…” She stared at her bottle, a little worried. “From…” She stopped herself once more. After a few more moments she shook her head. “It ain’t that important.”
Luna shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose not.”
She tossed back the bottle once more and guzzled the last of the cider. “Darn right, it’s not,” she said after she slammed down the bottle one final time. She wiped her mouth with her foreleg and sighed. “Anyway, I brought your shipment of apples.”
Luna nodded. “Thank you, Applejack. What would I do without you?”
The mare didn’t seem to pick up on Luna’s barely veiled sarcasm. “Well, I’d rather pay ya back for somethin’ than just freeload here.”
Luna unleashed that obnoxious giggle of hers. “Even after I told you we can open a tab?”
“I told ya, I don’t like to be in debt to anypony.”
“Too stubborn to take my kindness, are you?”
The mare let out a single hard laugh. “I don’t know the price of that ‘kindness’, so I’d rather just pay ya how I can.”
“And I thank you. So, will you be staying tonight?”
Applejack shook her head. “No thanks. I’ve got to keep lookin’ for the road outta these woods.” She climbed down from the stool and tipped her hat back.
“Well, good luck. I’ll see you when you bring in my next shipment.” Luna laughed again. Though I could barely hear it from across the room, it still made me shudder.
“No offense, Luna, but I really hope not,” Applejack muttered before walking out to the foyer.
Once the slam of the front door echoed into the restaurant, Luna slowly looked over to me with an almost victorious smirk. I took a slow sip of my coffee as I glared at her. “You knew,” I said with a bitter tone after I set my mug down.
“Knew what?” she asked, feigning innocence again.
“Don’t play dumb, Luna. You knew that she was lost in these woods too.”
Luna stepped out from behind the bar while keeping her eye on me. “It happens to a lot of ponies who find themselves in these woods,” she said, finally turning her gaze down the dark hallway past the bar. “Luna’s seems to attract all those unfortunate enough to be lost here. They find their way to my doorstep eventually.”
“Attract…” I muttered, pondering her word choice.
“I will take care of them until they can find their escape. Of course, for some, I think these woods are the escape.” She sighed before glancing back at me.
My hoof was shaking. Slowly, the realization that everypony was trapped inside these woods sunk in like a stick slowly being sucked into mud. “Were you lying to me then? Did I even have a chance of finding my way out by asking your ‘regulars’, as you like to call them?”
“Oh, don’t give up hope. I believe I told you to lower your expectations as high hopes lead to disappointment.” Luna let out her creepy laugh. “Memories grow foggy in the mist outside, but surely there will be enough pieces among the ponies who come in to solve the puzzle.” She smirked at me, in a way I would imagine a cat smirking at its prey if it could. “You didn’t expect this to be easy, did you? There’s no fun in that, now is there?”
A shiver ran down my spine as her words sunk in. I could hear Luna laughing again as she walked out of the restaurant and back towards the kitchen, but it felt so distant. A sense of helplessness flooded my chest. In a mere conversation, one I wasn’t even a part of, my hopes were dashed. I was trapped here until I could either figure my way out of this forest, or I was doomed to wander it forever.
Luna’s perverse pleasure in my misfortune wasn’t something I could easily shrug off either. Perhaps she was just a kind tavern owner whom happened to have an odd sense of humor, or perhaps she was a predator waiting to take advantage of those unfortunate enough to happen upon her little tavern. Either way, I was stuck here until I could get myself out of this situation. There would be no savior for me here but myself.
Luna’s
Chapter 6
I stared at the clock, hopelessly watching the seconds tick away. Seconds, minutes, hours, they had all lost meaning in this place. I found that no matter when I went to sleep or woke up, it was always the same outside: dark with a thick fog and a full moon in the sky. It was as though time had stopped, or at the very least had forsaken this crude establishment. Maybe the clock was only ticking because it had no other purpose in life. It was like me, trapped here in limbo.
Though, it felt a little less like I was trapped and more like I was being held prisoner. Something was eating inside me, something about this establishment and its peculiar owner. Luna had said that ponies always seem to find their way to her restaurant when they’re lost in these woods, but she doesn’t seem to help them leave. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around her motivation. How did she keep this place running if her guests were all lost here? She had to be hiding something, but what?
I sighed to break from my idle musings. My eyes fell to a window. The fog was still lazily drifting by with no end in sight. I had hoped to ponder that for a moment when I heard some hoofsteps approaching my table.
“Freshen your cup?” Luna asked, levitating a pot of coffee into the air for me to see.
I glanced down at my nearly empty mug and nodded. I watched the steaming hot liquid pour with a hint of disdain. The smell of charred grounds filled the air, reminding me why I didn’t care for Luna’s coffee much. Even when fresh, it still tasted burnt. But, it wasn’t as though there was much else she had that I wanted.
“You’re quiet tonight.” She raised an eyebrow as a smirk appeared on her face.
“Perhaps we’ve run out of things to discuss,” I replied as I picked up the fresh cup of coffee. The flavor was reminiscent of soot from a fireplace and steaming hot well water. Somewhere buried under that wretched concoction was the faint taste of actual coffee.
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Luna laughed to herself. I couldn’t help but cringe mid sip from the sound. “You’re not that boring, dear. I’m sure we could have some conversation if you tried,” she said, turning her back to me.
My jaw clenched. These subtle jabs of hers are becoming unbearable… I set down my mug and turned my attention back to the window. While engaging over such a petty remark was childish, it only upset me more if her challenge went unanswered.
I took a short breath to quell my emotions before saying, “Perhaps if you weren’t so—” A loud crash cut me short. My head immediately snapped to the doorway that lead to the stairs. “What was that?” I asked without realizing.
Luna was also staring in the direction from which the noise emanated. She tilted her head curiously. “It sounded as though it came from the kitchen.” She took a step towards the doorway. “I wonder if the cook is having some trouble?” The apathy practically oozed from her hollow words.
“Trouble?”
Luna looked back at me with a smirk. It took a moment for it to sink in why she was smiling. I furrowed my brow. “That shouldn’t count.”
“Yet, it still does,” Luna laughed, making me cringe once more. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see what she’s struggling with.” She casually walked through the doorway, in absolutely no rush. Just as she disappeared I could hear the loud clang of what sounded like pots hitting the floor.
Once I was sure she was gone, I glanced over at the bar. “Businesses keep some sort of documentation,” I said to myself as I climbed out from the booth I was sitting in. She has to get supplies or know of a way out of these woods to keep this place running. There’s no way some scavenging farmer supplies this tavern with everything.
I made my way over to the bar, taking care to ensure my hooves were quiet against the hardwood floor. Stealth was my only option for she couldn’t know what I was up to. If she did, gods know what she would have in store. I took a quick peek through the doorway to be certain Luna was not there. Once I saw it was clear, I slipped behind the bar.
As far as I could tell it was an average establishment. Glasses, an insulated box for storing the ice, pitchers, a tap, a few bottles of alcohol, miscellaneous tableware, it was all too plain—somehow surprising for the type of pony Luna was.
Suddenly, I heard somepony shout—somepony who wasn’t Luna. My ears turned in the direction of the yelling, though I kept my attention focused on my search. “Would you calm down?” Luna’s voice graced my ears next, though not nearly as loud as the first. Things were clearly heated between them. Whoever the cook was, they must be something to get a rise out of somepony as emotionally dead as Luna.
My eyes continued to flow along the shelves until something caught my attention. A thick, black book resting on the bottom shelf, coated in a thick layer of dust. “That could be something,” I remarked, softly.
I pulled the book free and flipped open the cover. The paper was stiff and yellow from age. Just how old is this place? I found myself thinking as I stared down at the first page. It simply had ‘business log’ scribbled down in hoofwriting. Even the ink had a slight brownish hue to it.
I turned the page to what I assumed would be a log of this tavern’s business. I wasn’t exactly wrong in that regard. The page was filled in with a rough, thrown together, three column structure, the first had dates, and the second was a list of names. The third column though, was what I found strange. I expected it to be monetary in nature—bits owed or collected—but that wasn’t the case.
Dates, names and next to those names were words, not numbers. “Summer Breeze, lost,” I read aloud from the first line. Lost what? I asked myself.
Lost was the most frequent word to appear, though a few had the word ‘recovered’ scribbled down. What could be lost or recovered from these ponies was a question burning in my mind immediately after reading. I turned the next page and noticed that recovered was sometimes crossed off when it seldom appeared. What is she keeping track of?
I sifted through the pages until I found the end of the writing. As I looked through the names of the ponies held within this book, I felt my heart lurch in my chest. My eyes went wide in disbelief as I struggled to digest what I was reading. My own name sat at the bottom of that list of ponies. The third column remained blank. “W-why am I in here?”
“That’s not too difficult of a question.” I jumped as Luna’s voice graced my ears. My head snapped around to see the mare standing behind me with her usual smirk. But, there was something different. Her eyes seemed to hold a tinge of anger just below their calm, collected surface. “But, that must be answered another day.”
Her lips fell flat as she glanced over my shoulder to see the book open in front of me. I was caught red hoofed. It felt as though my heart stopped beating entirely as her bored eyes shifted onto me once again. “You know, it’s not polite to look into somepony else’s business. You might not like what you find.”
I took a quick breath to start my heart again. “What is the meaning of this book, Luna?” I demanded from her. I stood up, causing her to take a step back. “What does lost and recovered mean? Lost to these woods? Lost to you?”
She didn’t smile—not at first. She stared at me blankly, lazily rolling her head to the side. “That’s far too many questions for our little game.”
“This isn’t a game! What does this mean!” I yelled.
“So much yelling tonight,” she muttered to herself. She let out a long sigh. “I have no idea what you mean by ‘lost’ and ‘recovered.’ As you can see, that book is merely an account of our debts.”
“No business would keep its head above water with this much in lost revenue!”
Luna placed her hoof on her chest and took another step back, as if thrown off by my accusation. “Whoever said we lost that money?” It was obviously an act, her voice was apathetic as usual. Her lips spread every so slightly with her head dipping to the side in a cocky sort of way. “If you take another look, you’ll see bits written down. Those are a record of our closed tabs.”
My eyes narrowed at her. “You expect me to believe—” I looked back down at the book. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The third column, the words were gone. In their stead, numbers—amounts—were now written. “W-what?”
“I have another book where I keep a running total upstairs for our current guests. Would you like to see it?” she asked with a condescending tone.
“No…” I whispered. “This had…” I turned back to face Luna.
“Words?” Luna tilted her head to the side. “Don’t be silly. What business would use words instead of numbers for accounting?” She chuckled. “I think you’re being a bit paranoid, my dear.”
“It was there!”
“Perhaps you could use some sleep to calm your mind?” She tried to place her hoof on my shoulder, but I brushed her off.
“Stay away from me!” I yelled. “I don’t know what is going on here, but I want no part of it!” I ran out from behind the counter, keeping my eyes on Luna as I rushed past her. I had to leave—to get away from this crazy pony before something happened to me. I didn’t know what or why, but I had no intention of staying around to find out.
Luna’s
Chapter 8
Thick, unrelenting darkness that obscured every corner of my vision. I staved off the desire to close my eyes and drift back off to sleep, instead sitting up. But all this darkness offered no other hints as to where I was. The padded mattress under me and cover slipping off my body as I sat up told me I was in a bed—and even further, the stiffness of the mattress and thinness of the blanket offered at the very least some information. I closed my eyes, giving myself a few moments to regain some clarity.
I’m back. I sighed.
Everything came back to me. I remembered coming in from the fog. Luna had been standing there patiently, waiting for me. Her hoof rested on the bar and she had that same little smirk on her face—well, perhaps not quite the same; it was a tad more condescending than normal. With that smirk and a soft welcome, I was back as if nothing had happened. I was right back where I started.
At last I opened my eyes, homing in on some light spilling in from under the door. Groaning on reflex, I swung my hind legs out onto the cold floor and climbed down from the bed. Every fiber of my being told me to climb back in bed and just sleep my life away until the fog miraculously cleared, but all my experiences in this insane place had taught me better.
I Stumbled across the room, my hoof missing a few passes at the door handle before finally managing to get a grip on the slippery thing. When I finally got it opened, I fell into the hallway. Somehow, I barely managed to catch myself on my legs before hitting the floor. The searing bright lights forced my eyes closed. Blindly, I groped about until I found the railing to the stairwell. Bracing myself against it, I cracked my eyes open to adjust to the light.
“What is with me tonight?” I asked the vacant hallway. “You’d think I was drunk. Maybe that walk last night tired me out more than I thought.”
Somehow, I made my way down the rickety stairs and into the tavern while my eyes still acclimated themselves. Luna already stared in my direction—cheek resting on hoof as she leaned on the counter—as I stepped out into the dining area. Without so much as tilting her head, her horn lit up, sliding a cup of already poured coffee along the bar towards me.
“Good evening,” she said.
I hardly wanted to make eye contact with the devilish mare, so, instead I kept my gaze focused on the mug as I stepped to the end of the bar. The only reply I offered was the barest of nods before starting to a booth to regain my senses with this cup of the charred drippings that Luna had the gall to call coffee. But before I withdrew into my thoughts, something caught my eye. Amidst the grotesque green wallpaper, offensive orange lights, and bleak browns of the bar was a spot of colour that stood out. Sitting at a table in the middle of the room was a mare with a vibrant orange coat, bright blond mane, and a worn brown hat whom I was faintly familiar with—though her name escaped me. As my eyes met hers, she raised a bottle of what I assumed was cider.
“Howdy,” she said in a friendly tone. Without so much as shifting from her relaxed position, she kicked out a chair into my path. “Why don’t ya take a seat, partner? I could use some company.”
My eyes trailed from the chair to the mare herself. I found myself sorely tempted to raise an eyebrow and ignore the bumpkin, but whatever manners remained in me after my time here spoke up in protest. And there was also Luna’s advice. Among the ponies who come in, some might provide clues I could use, like pieces to the puzzle that was my imprisonment in this place. Reluctantly, I took the offered seat.
She slammed down the bottle after taking a swig, causing the table to shake. It was then that I noticed her eyes were unfocused, lazily drifting to and fro, her head was barely able to be kept still, and resting on her muzzle was a goofy grin. But the dead give-away was the smell. She reeked of booze.
“Luna,” she slurred, “why don’t ya bring another cider my way. An’ one fer my friend, here.”
I raised a hoof in protest. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Ya ain’t gettin’ off that easy,” she said before tipping back her bottle once more. This time, she held it there, chugging the remainder of her drink.
Luna appeared at our table, a bottle of cider in her magic along with a new mug of coffee. When I looked up at her skeptically, she merely smiled that same lazy smile. “I’m sorry, Applejack, but you’ve drunk all the cider we have. This is the last bottle, I’m afraid. Instead, I’ve given your friend some whiskey in her coffee.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Luna had already swapped out my cup. While the generous bartender took her leave, I glared down at the unassuming mug. I forced myself to gulp, watching the steam rise; it dissipated right in front of me, smokey fingers beckoning mesmerizingly. Memories of the sterile taste of alcohol burning my tongue and chest filled my mind until it went down smoothly. I almost invited the pain. After all, the promise it held was worth the little discomfort. The power to forget the troubles of this damned bar and this damned forest for just a damned few short hours lay at the bottom of this mug. I shakily brought it to my lips.
But suddenly, my whole body shuddered. A surge of scalding coffee spilled over the brim and seared my hoof. A brief mental flash of a mountain of bottles crashing down upon me caused me to stop.
Not anymore , I told myself.
I caught a whiff of my drink, and I realised the ploy—the unmistakable aroma of whiskey, so pungent and overwhelming, was strangely absent. I glanced over to Luna only to find her staring at me with her usual smirk. I could almost hear her damnable laugh, but for once, I was thankful to her.
When I shifted my gaze back, I saw Applejack already downing her fresh bottle. So, I took a sip of my coffee. It was bad manners to let her drink alone, even if mine wasn’t alcohol. When I pulled the cup away and swallowed the burnt roast, I finally spoke.
“I’m surprised to see you here again so soon. I thought you wouldn’t be back for quite some time considering how you left.”
Applejack exhaled as soon as the bottle parted from her lips and wiped her mouth. “Yeah, but sometimes ya just gotta call it quits fer the night an’ get some shuteye.” She swung forward, leaning on the table and narrowing her eyes at me. “But I wouldn’t have ta do that if I could get the hell outta here. I swear, these woods’re trickier than a greased up pig.”
“Can’t say I’ve had the…er…pleasure.”
“It ain’t a pleasure, ya nitwit.” I cringed at her insult but chose to let it go. “Especially if they start nippin’ at ya.” She threw back the bottle once more, filling her mouth with the amber liquid inside. I inhaled sharply and elected to keep my eyes off the cider she so exuberantly chugged down like a glutton. While the sweet brew wasn’t my particular fancy, the reprieve it would have brought was indeed welcomed. She slammed her hoof down once more with the bottle, and another tremor followed. Small splashes of my coffee surged from their container onto the worn wood of the table below.
She leaned forward again. “Point is that these woods, they’ll get ya twisted around quicker than a lassoin’ rodeo clown.”
“I’m guessing you’ve been here for a while then?” I looked back to her, finding a rather disgruntled look on her face.
“Shoot, as long as I can remember.” She swatted her hoof angrily at nothing, deepening her scowl.
My heart stopped in my chest. Whatever scraps of hope I had managed to cling onto were fast slipping away. I brought the mug of coffee to my lips. Slowly, I sipped, waiting for my heart to catch up. When it finally did, I pulled the mug just far enough away so that I could speak.
“You’ve been searching this whole time?”
“Whole time,” she affirmed.
“And you’ve not found anything about an escape?”
She laughed. “It don’t matter what way ya leave here. You’ll only end up where ya started.”
My hoof shook just as I set my cup back down on the table. Echoes of what Luna had said before had come back to haunt me. Luna’s seems to attract all those unfortunate enough to be lost here . She hadn’t been lying.
“Call me a cynic,” I said, “but why haven’t you simply given up?”
Applejack turned her glare towards me. “I ain’t no quitter.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, it just seems a bit stubborn to keep trying—”
Applejack tipped back her hat. “Stubborn? Ya wanna run that by me again, partner?”
“Of course, it’s stubborn to keep pushing ahead when there’s no point.”
“I ain’t no stubborn mule! It’s called tenacity, an’ we Apples are known fer that!” She started to stand up from her chair, putting her weight on the already unsteady table. “I’ll find a way outta these woods without you or that damn bitch’s help!” She thrust her hoof in Luna’s direction, behind the bar. She simply watched our argument with mild, detached amusement—her usual fare.
I pushed back my seat and took to my hooves. “I won’t be berated for simply stating the truth. Wasting your time in the woods, looking for an exit you’ve never found for heaven knows how long—it’s stubborn!” That word lingered in my mind for a moment. The times I had heard it myself were maddening, but I pushed those memories aside for the moment. For now, it was my weapon. “Nor will I waste my time with somepony so—” I huffed, struggling for an appropriate word, “—so uncouth!”
For a brief moment, I glanced into Applejack’s eyes. At that word, I could practically feel the burn in her gaze as she stared daggers at me. “Oh, I am goin’ to tear you a—” As Applejack shifted to get off the table, her drunkenness and her unsteady support gave out. The table tumbled over, sending Applejack and the beverages with it. The mare hit the ground and the bottle and mug shattered, splashing hot coffee and alcohol all over her.
I nodded at the sight. “Serves you right,” I muttered under my breath. As I stormed out, I snatched the mug of coffee Luna had taken from me earlier from the counter in front of her.
“Oh, dear. Somepony should clean that up,” Luna said. Her eyes lazily drifted from the mess to me as I took the mug. With an obnoxious laugh, she added, “Like two brick walls.”
I merely stuck my nose up at her as I walked past to the front door. “I’ll be outside.”
“Don’t wander too far. We don’t want a repeat of last night,” she warned with her usual level of concern—that is, one bordering on complete apathy.
I shot a glare back at her. “I won’t.”
Luna’s
Chapter 9
A wall of bitterly cold air slapped me in the face the moment I stepped out the front door. The frigid grass nipped at my underhoof, but I tolerated the chill. After all, it was better than the alternative. For the first time since I had come here, my breathing left faint wisps hanging in the air before me. A chill crept up from the base of my spine; the forest’s formerly tolerable climate had suddenly become dry and bitingly cold. But despite the chill outside, my blood was still roiling from that stubborn mare’s words.
I glared at the ever-shifting fog. It was somehow responsible for summoning that infuriating pony—both of them. Because of the fog, I was trapped here. Just thinking back on the way she had refused to admit the obvious futility of her struggle made my blood pressure skyrocket.
If anypony should know when to quit, I thought, it’s me.
Ghostly voices attached to countless faceless ponies came to mind. They surrounded me, staring at me with their featureless eyes. The word stubborn rang out and echoed in my head. I only gritted my teeth as I continued to glare at the fog, pushing the imaginary tormentors from my thoughts.
"It’s not the same,” I muttered to nobody. “She’s just wandering aimlessly. I at least had a plan with my career." My gaze drifted down to the grass. "It’s not like I can just quit now, either."
But as I stared at the chilly grass, a distant voice caught my ear, a voice distinctly not in my head. I looked down the road as the words grew louder. My heart rose in my chest at the prospect of another—hopefully sane —pony.
From the fog’s soupy veil a faded light peeked, one that grew brighter by the second and took on a blue tint. The voices—and at this point I could tell that there was more than one—came from that direction; my ears swiveled towards them.
"And it’s just atrocious, darling." A white-coated mare coalesced in a shifting wall of fog as she approached me. She was a unicorn, and the blue light emanated from the tip of her pearly horn. A flowing indigo mane curled down around her neck with bangs that threatened to cover her eyes; she tossed the trespassing locks to the side with a sharp jerk of her head.
Blue eyeliner, clean coat, and crisp mane—clearly she hadn’t been here long.
"If I was in your horseshoes, I wouldn’t stand for it." She glanced back towards the fog. My eyes followed her gaze.
Right behind her crept a yellow pegasus pony whose gaze was practically glued to her hooves. Her ears lay flat, letting her thick, full pink mane fall in front of her face—as if she were hiding from the world.
"O-okay," she replied in a soft voice that screamed infirmity.
"Don’t mumble," her companion commanded, rolling her eyes. "As I was saying, grace is what separates us from the vermin. You don’t want to be some filthy commoner, do you? So try to have some. Alright, darling?"
The quiet one lifted her head up ever so slightly. Her lips, barely visible behind the cascade of pink hair, quivered. "I’ll try." The words were just barely above a whisper—hardly audible even in the dead of the night.
"Then again,” the unicorn went on, “I suppose I wouldn’t stand for a lot of things if I was in your shoes." She laughed, covering her mouth with a hoof. When her laugher died, she waved the hoof dismissively. "Your stylist would be fired for sure." She stared down her nose at her companion’s mane.
As the pegasus shrunk even lower, a faint whimper floated to my attentive ears.
The sound didn’t escape her boisterous friend’s notice either; she laughed in response. A hoof rose to brush the poor pegasus’ shoulder. "The word doormat comes to mind, but that’s none of my business, I suppose." Her mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.
My skin crawled as I took notice.
Doormat inhaled sharply. "I-I don’t—" She was cut off by a click of the unicorn’s tonge. For what may have been the first time since I started listening, I could hear what sounded like her actual speaking voice. A soft, melodic tone—well suited for singing—but also frail.
The demeaning one shook her head calmly. "Don’t take offense. It’s unbecoming to let others see such a disgrace." Her eyes closed as she averted her gaze, emphasizing her disgust.
"It’s just that—" Doormat lowered her head below her shoulders. That lustrous pink mane of hers pooled in the dirt, without a single care from its owner. "You’re the one who…s-started saying those things…" Whatever strength she had mustered at the start vanished with the first stammer. Her voice dropped down into nothingness shortly after, though I could still make out her lips moving.
The unicorn tilted her head. "I thought we moved past that, darling .” The way she said “darling” grated on my ears, like hooves on a chalkboard. “Live in the present. It’s far more entertaining here, after all.” The same disgusting smirk crept across her lips again as she eyed her companion. “Besides, you’re the one who fell, not I." She giggled again, covering her mouth as she did so.
Doormat’s shoulders shook for a brief moment.
"Now, let us go inside," the unicorn said as she turned and proceeded into Luna’s.
However, as she turned, our eyes met for the briefest of moments. Her snout rose in such a condescending way, I nearly retched. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then that mare’s would give an excellent view of the sewers in Canterlot after a particularly bad stomach bug. Utter contempt burned inside me at the lack of empathy in her ice-cold gaze. I knew her type; I had seen it many times before. Upper-class, self-important, snobbish, and above all else, cruel to a fault—a perfect noble if I had ever seen one.
Which drew my sights to her companion—Doormat. A frail, meek girl, following like a lost puppy. I would have pitied her if the sight of her wasn’t just as sickening as her master’s. She followed the unicorn inside, not bothering to pull her miserable eyes from the dirt she crawled on. She loosed a small, apologetic nod in my direction before disappearing inside the bar. As she slunk away, her head hung low, groveling like the dog she was. It only made me despise her more.
Begging to suckle at the teat of power , I thought as I looked back to the fog.
I let a scowl spread across my face; what had started as a moment outside to cool my temper merely served to stoke the flames. Next time, I wouldn’t even bother trying.
Again it happens , I thought as I peered back into the depthless fog, frigid air nipping my cheeks. This place just keeps dredging up bad memories I’d rather forget .
Resigned to wallow in my anger, I turned and went back inside the bar myself. After all, misery always did love company.
Luna’s
Chapter 10
The warmth inside the bar shook the nipping chill off my coat as I stepped inside. In my short absence, the overturned table had been righted, the broken glass and spilled coffee cleared, and Applejack tucked away in the far corner booth with a loathsome frown on her face. Sitting on her table was a steaming mug—probably coffee—to sober the ill-mannered cretin up.
Looking closer to me, I saw Little Miss Doormat and her master sitting at a table in the center of the bar. In front of Doormat was a humble mug, which she grasped tightly in her shivering hooves. Her master, on the other hoof, had a tall wine glass held daintily by a thin ring of magic around the neck. She swirled the dark scarlet liquid before bringing the glass to her lips.
But as I scanned the patrons, I felt somepony else’s gaze fall over me. Me eyes shifted to the bar to find Luna staring at me with her bored eyes and tired smile. "How was your stroll?"
"Short," I retorted, walking past her. "Just like my temper."
"Oh!" she called out as I reached the end of the bar. "I think our newest guests wanted to meet you."
Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly, but not enough to betray their no-doubt sadistic intent. Almost as though she could read my mind, she let slip that irritating laugh of hers. "They’re two of my favorite regulars, you know. They’re so—" she looked off and up to the side for a moment before returning her shrewd gaze to me "—telling. "
For a moment I almost questioned her, but I had enough sense to stop myself. After all, I had to be careful what I asked, otherwise I would lose my chance until the next night. So, instead of taking her vague bait, I turned to the stairs. "If they truly come by often, then I will see them some other night. Besides, I’ve had my fill with your ‘regulars’ for one night." I spat out the words like a sour wine.
I didn’t even turn my head to see what I guessed was an unassuming shrug before I pushed on to the stairs and up. Upon reaching the top, however, some odd sound behind me caught my ear. It was a high-pitched squeal from what might have been an unoiled hinge. When I rounded the banister, down the hall, a door was cracked open ever so slightly—the room directly before mine.
As I approached, something seemed to hold me back, almost as though somepony had bitten down on my tail and pulled as hard as she could. An awful, nagging feeling poked the back of my head, but I shook it away. Whatever little game Luna was playing with me—and this was one of her little games, no doubt about that—I refused to let it frighten me. I drew closer and closer, refusing to acknowledge the dread creeping up my spine, making my heart thump in my ears. The door was at my side now, and the pitch black just behind felt as though it was oozing out. Something inside was watching me.
This door had been closed and locked when I went downstairs. I recalled the other day, when I heard that voice from inside—terrified, weak, and desperate as it was, I found myself feeling the same now that I knew what Luna’s other patrons were like. If this particular guest needed to be locked up, surely she must be the worst of the bunch.
After I walked past the door, a floorboard creaked behind me, and I came to a halt. Or rather froze. My whole coat stood on end as I slowly craned my neck back. I noticed the crack in the door had widened. Inside, I caught the image of an bloodshot eyeball staring back at me.
After that was a blur. I knew my legs propelled me forward, I knew something grabbed my tail, and I knew I hit the floor face first, but beyond those details I can’t recall what I thought or said or did. The hallway’s sickly orange light that I detested so very much vanished into pure black as I was devoured by the darkness in one fell swoop. Then, the door slammed shut.
I expected pain—mostly the kind one would feel as one was consumed alive by some frightful beast—but I was only left with the dull sting from my poor chin striking the ground. A purple glow illuminated the room from behind me, painted a horrid picture. The wood floor had scratches all over—the walls, too. A painting of a simple waterfall hung crooked, nagging to be straightened. Bedsheets were strewn with feathers littering the floor, indeed telling of a struggle. To my right, a splintered chair lay swept in a pile against the wall, reminding me of the previous commotion that had come from this room.
"Now you’re safe," a voice muttered, and I couldn’t help but flinch.
I turned to face my captor, only to find that it was a simple mare, one just as disheveled as the room in which she lived. The colour of her messy coat was indiscernible in the purple light, but I could still pick out the two streaks of colour that ran through the center of her dark mane. The poor thing sported a horn, and from the tip of that horn emanated the purple light. However, no amount of pity could quell the thrill of fear I felt upon viewing the unnaturally wide smile on her face.
"E-excuse me, what?" I asked, crawling away from the deranged mare.
“You’re safe!” She rolled her forehooves together. “Safe, safe, safe, safe.” Her voice trailed off into incoherent mumbles, followed by peals of hysterical laughter.
“Safe from what?” I winced as the words left my lips. Any moment I expected her to erupt into some fit, but she only stared.
The mare’s eyes shifted back and forth. “From Luna,” she whispered. “You—You can’t trust her. You can’t trust—can’t trust Luna.” A tremor ran up her foreleg, and rippled through her whole body, not to her notice. “Nopony can trust Luna! Nopony!”
I raised an eyebrow. My nerves had begun to settle a bit; the poor thing seemed harmless enough, but not so much that I relaxed my guard. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Her eyes stopped roaming and locked onto me. Silence grew to deafening levels as her bloodshot gaze burned into my very soul. What felt like minutes passed until she finally shook her head. “I don’t know. She—I don’t know. It’s—I don’t know.” She pinched her eyes closed and pressed both hooves to her head. “Luna can’t be trusted.”
I swallowed a worrisome lump in my throat and slid back further towards the door. Suddenly the reason why this mare was locked away was starting to come into focus. A trashed room, a wreck of a pony, completely bonkers? Clearly Luna had our best interest in mind, though I couldn’t say I approved of her methods. Even a crazy pony needs help.
I cleared my throat. “Well, If you can’t remember, I suppose I should be going—” Suddenly I felt my back against the door, the mare pinning me there with her hooves.
“Going? Going where? Out?” Her eyes searched my own as her head fell slowly to the side. Then all of a sudden her head snapped straight up. Her ears perked when something like joy pushed through the madness. “Please! Now that you’re here, you can take me with you! Away from here! Away from Luna! I need to get out!”
“I—” I furrowed my eyebrows as I pressed back into the door. Quite the spot I was put in, but what choice did I have? Held in a room with a crazy pony at my throat—what would anypony do? “I suppose I could.” I cracked a small smile, then added under my breath, “Not that there’s anywhere to go.”
She leapt back to the center of the room using my shoulders as a springboard. Frantically, she clapped her hooves and an exuberant grin spread across her face. “Yes! Splendid! You see she’s bad, right? Luna’s not who she seems. She’s up to something, I just can’t remember what right now.” She groaned, smacking her head a few times with her hoof, as if the pain would jog her memory. Then she shook her head violently and locked her gaze back onto me. “We can worry about that later, though. For now we just—”
The door flung opened, sending me tumbling onto the crazed mare. I rubbed my head and looked at whoever had burst in. Standing there, silhouetted from the glaring orange light of the hallway, was a tall figure. Its head craned to the side, and its mane shifted in an unfelt wind. I swallowed hard again, feeling like a filly caught with her hoof in the cookie jar—despite being roped into this mess.
“I see my words of wisdom went unheeded,” Luna said as she stepped into the disaster that was the crazy mare’s room. Her horn lit with a soft blue glow. She stared down her muzzle at the two of us, her eyes still half-closed, almost glazed over from exhaustion, but behind that held some subtle venom—either at myself or the crazy one, I couldn’t tell. She took a deep breath and stepped to the side. “Twilight, as I’ve asked you time and time again, please don’t bother the other guests.”
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” the mare muttered. A short sniffle drew my attention downward. Shivers radiated into me as I slowly realised this crazy mare—Twilight, apparently—was utterly terrified. I climbed off her, and she collapsed into a cowering heap. Now that she was in the light, I could see she had a coat as purple as the light of her spell.
My gaze shifted back to Luna. I was glaring, no doubt about that. Her gaze met mine, confirming that her resentment was for us both. But before I found myself confronting her, she motioned to the door with her head. Considering the company, I took my leave, though I kept staring daggers at Luna as I past.
I stepped outside the room, and heard the door close behind me. I winced at the loud crash that came from the other side accompanied by what might have been a squeal of pain. A moment later, Luna slipped out with the look of a mother who had just disciplined her child. It was a stern expression, but one that didn’t suggest any sort of relishment from completing the task.
She exhaled, and the lazy Luna I had come to know and hate appeared again. “As I said before—” she broke the silence “—I would avoid her. She’s a bit much to handle.” She looked at me from the corner of her eyes.
“I can’t say she was any harder to handle than your other guests,” I retorted dryly.
“That’s because you don’t know her like I do,” Luna replied as a smile came across her face. “But I suppose you do take a liking to troublesome ponies, don’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I turned my nose up and away from her.
“Perhaps you don’t.” She moved to the stairway without a word more.
Her hoofsteps made my heart leap in my chest. Suddenly I snapped my gaze back to see her walking away slowly. “Luna,” I called out, bringing her to a stop. “Is she like that because of the fog?”
Luna said nothing, didn’t even glance back in my direction.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Well?”
“A wonderful question,” she said after a moment’s pause. “I wonder if that might be true.”
“Don’t play the idiot.” Her refusal to look at me made my blood boil. “You aren’t fooling anypony with that act. Answer my question.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
“That was my first question of the night,” I reminded her as I took a small step forward. “The rules of your silly game mean you have to answer me.”
Her horrid laugh broke the silence. “Actually, the rules of our little game simply require me to answer a question per night, not the first one you choose to ask. I can choose which one that might be.” At last she turned back to grace me with that stomach-churning, sadistic smirk she had perfected. “Well, goodnight.”
My jaw clenched tight. “She doesn’t deserve to be locked up like that!”
“And it appears I’ve finally struck a chord,” I heard from her before she finally disappeared down the stairs.
After Luna was gone from my sight, I brought a hoof crashing down so hard that it hurt. I didn’t like how she acted as though she knew me, and I didn’t like how she was so right about it. She was some random mare living in the woods with a bunch of loons. She didn’t know the first thing about me or the things I had experienced in my life. I stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Between the infuriating Applejack, the freaky Discord, the snivelling Doormat and her master’s sickening play, the crazy Twilight, and Luna’s ever-obnoxious nature, I was fed up with this place. If running got me anywhere, I would have fled right there, and never looked back.
But I was trapped at Luna’s. I was trapped until I either found my escape or snapped like the rest of them. All I knew was I had to hurry. I just wish I knew what I was hurrying towards.
Luna’s
I stared down at the chair suddenly thrust into my path. Surprise, annoyance, and resignation warred with each other for control of my expression. I couldn’t help but have an odd sense of deja vu, but it was more than that. This had happened before—the previous night in fact. And much like then, I wasn’t thrilled by the invitation to sit down.
My eyes trailed up from the chair’s feet, aglow with a pale blue aura. Across from the table sat a snow-white unicorn whom I recognized as Doormat’s master from before. She leaned forward with her head resting against a hoof, apparently bored, if her barely open eyes were anything to go by. The sour smile resting on her lips reminded me of a cat about to pounce on a mouse as her aloof gaze slid over me from head to hoof. I could practically feel her rottenness scurrying across my skin. The mere thought gave me chills.
"Won’t you join us?" she asked, though it felt more akin to a demand.
Though "us" almost slipped past me unnoticed. Her pink-haired lapdog materialized in my peripheral vision like a phantom. Given her stunning lack of presence, it made sense that she was easy to overlook, what with her hiding behind that curtain-like mane. Then again, maybe I was underestimating her. Perhaps her knack for going unnoticed wasn’t as unintentional as I first thought.
Shifting my sights back to her master, I opened my mouth, on the cusp of declining her offer when she interrupted. "I wouldn’t want my hospitality ignored, and not by somepony as refined as yourself."
Types like her were common enough in my life, and I had certainly learned how to spot them. It was both a point of pride and disgust that I had her pegged right on the nose from first sight. Armed with that knowledge, I should have told her to sod off right then and there. I knew what I would be getting into, yet I said nothing. What choice did I have? Offend Her Highness—losing a possible lead in the process—or play her little game for some information, which in the end was no choice at all.
So I took the offered seat, crossing my forelegs as I plopped down across from my two “hosts”. I didn’t care for the delighted smirk Her Highness adopted as I settled in. Her eyes shifted to her pet without so much as a tilt of her head. Despite Doormat pretending she didn’t exist, she jumped the instant her master’s eyes fell upon her. She raised her trembling hoof barely to chin level. It quickly darted back to her side where she froze solid once more. I wondered what she was doing.
A moment later, the answer became clear. Luna appeared next to our table. I met her gaze for a moment and instantly regretted it. For such a dull, tired mare, she certainly thought quite highly of herself at times—and this was one of those times. The air around her reeked of her sadistic delight like pungent cheese to the point I almost felt sick. The untrained eye would never be able to see it, but reading Luna was old hat to me by this point. Her tired smirk was barely wider than usual, and her eyes minutely more focused. Perhaps I had been here too long.
“What can I get for you?” she asked. Her docile tones and slow speech were edged with just the slightest bit of excitement, making her sound the tiniest bit cheery. I didn’t like it. A happy Luna could only mean trouble.
As I opened my mouth to speak, I was cut off by Her Highness. “Three glasses of your finest sauvignon blanc, if you would, darling.”
I rolled my eyes. Twice, now, I had been cut off, and I had only just crawled out of bed. I rounded my eyes back onto Luna, giving her a cold stare.
She lowered her head with a small nod. “Two wines and a coffee—black.”
I nodded in return, and she left the table.
“It appears the help has a teensy bit of a hearing problem.” I looked back to the host of our little get together, finding a displeased glare on her face primed in Luna’s direction.
“Or the guest might have a bit of an attitude problem,” I muttered under my breath. Her ears turned in my direction first, followed by her muzzle and eyes.
“Pardon?” she asked with suspicious innocence.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t drink,” I spoke up, then lowered my hooves to my lap.
She eyed me up and down, looking for some sort of weakness or flaw in my stone-cold expression. As if I would ever have a reason to lie for that damnable mare, I thought as her eyes finally met mine once more.
An odd disappointment settled in her expression with her ears drooping slightly. “And here I had planned to propose a toast.”
“A toast?” I asked. Suddenly a mug dropped in front of me with just enough care to keep its contents from sloshing free. I jumped back in my seat to see Luna standing behind me with two wine glasses held in her magic.
“Here’s your wine, Ms. Rarity,” Luna said with a slimy smugness in her voice. As she carefully set the wine down, she locked eyes with Rarity’s. “And I thank you for your concern, but my hearing’s just fine.”
Rarity cleared her throat. “Of course,” she spat out while squirming in her seat. The foreleg her head rested upon drew closer to her body and forced her up straight. “I was simply making sure you were in good health.”
Luna chuckled—her horrid, ear-grating laugh. “Just keep in mind that if one isn’t careful, she might end up in the woods for the night.” Despite her laugh and cheery expression, her tone was somber. "Remember, I don’t work for anypony, and this is purely my hospitality." Like spectres haunting the table, Luna’s words clung to our skin. It sent a terrifying chill racing up my spine. She laughed once more, and the icy chill vanished. “Enjoy your toast,” she added before taking her leave once more.
Once Luna was gone, Rarity cleared her throat. The pale glow of her magic lifted one of the wine glasses, while Doormat reached out for the other.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I snatched my mug. With the enthusiasm of a funeral procession, I raised my glass.
“To inconsiderate simpletons who so rudely decline somepony’s offer.” Rarity’s muzzle scrunched as she narrowed her eyes at me. She tipped the mouth of her glass in my direction. “Cheers.”
“Ch-cheers,” Doormat added before snatching her foreleg back to her body. The glass disappeared behind her mane, with the base poking through for a brief moment when she tipped it back.
I narrowed my eyes back at Rarity. “Cheers.” After a small sip of the charred dirt Luna called coffee, I set my mug down with a thud.
The table shook, earning a raised eyebrow from Rarity as she daintily sipped her glass. When she pulled it from her lips, a smirk spread across her face. "And here I had mistaken you for somepony with class. Fluttershy and I were delighted to learn there might be more cultured conversations besides that filthy apple pony. But I suppose it was all for naught."
"Perhaps one would catch more flies with honey than vinegar," I replied dryly as I turned my attention to the suddenly interesting vacant table adjacent to ours.
"It’s rude to be so vague, darling." She batted her hoof playfully in my direction. "And I could say the same for you."
"I’m sorry, Ms. Rarity, but I had a long night." I pulled my eyes from the aging woodgrain of the table to the conversation before me. "I didn’t quite have the patience for pleasantries, and tonight isn’t looking much better."
"I suppose I could give you another chance." Her eyes drifted to the mare next to her, still as a statue. "Company is such a rare commodity here."
"S-sorry," Doormat blurted out, instantly shrinking in her seat. "I’ll try harder."
Rarity rolled her eyes. "Don’t force yourself, darling. You remember last time?"
"Y-you pushed me on stage," she whimpered out, barely audible between her lips, hair, and distance across the table. "I just—"
"You see what I deal with?" Rarity turn her attention to me. "You take a girl in, try to make her presentable, and she’s a blubbering oaf." With a subtle motion of her head, she pointed next to her before propping her head up on her hoof once more. "All because she wanted to be somepony."
My shoulders tensed. The bored monotone with which she spoke such disgusting things was enough to irk me, but to phrase it as though she was doling out favors? It was sickening. "Perhaps you’re expecting too much?" But that wasn’t the extent of my ire. Slowly my sights shifted to the ever-shrinking Doormat. "And perhaps she’s demanding too much?"
"I’m not demanding," Doormat interjected with the authority of a cowering mouse before a hungry housecat. "I just wanted—"
"You shouldn’t try to be somepony you’re not." I narrowed my eyes at her. Her neck somehow vanished below her shoulders at my retort. Cowering, shaking, but still sitting. Whatever this pitiful creature aimed to get from this Rarity, it certainly was willing to toss aside any pride or ego it might have had. It was barely even a pony to me at this point. A disgusting leech latching onto the most powerful entity it could in hopes of sharing. Absolutely disgusting.
"And you’ve never tried to fit in above your social class?" Rarity’s attention shifted to her glass, still swirling as it was held in her magic.
Once she was sure she had my attention, her glass stopped. Slowly, she brought the lip to her mouth, tipping it back ever so slowly. Her throat swelled as the wine slid down, gulp after gulp. Perhaps she thought the wait would make me anxious, but from the corner of her eye I caught her gaze locked on me. Another of her sadistic games.
"I’ve played the game, and found it lacking." I grabbed my coffee and took a sip myself. Unlike her, I didn't feign interest in my cup over the company. I kept my eyes glued on her.
Rarity pulled the glass from her lips. A cat-like smile across her face. "You’ve quite the attitude. I like it."
"Then if we’re done with the proverbial measuring contest, can I ask you something?"
"About a way out?" She picked her head up, lowered her muzzle and looked at me from the top of her eyes. The most obvious of feigning innocence I had ever seen. "Sorry," she said with a laugh as a smirk broke out. She leaned back in her seat with her glass close to her mouth. "I’ve no interest in leaving these woods. The colorful cast is far too entertaining. Did you try that apple one? She’s been all over these woods."
"I’ve already had the pleasure ." I clenched my jaw. This whole infuriating encounter had been a waste of my time. I glared at Luna from the corner of my eye as she watched on with her smug boredness. With her insistence I speak to these two, I should have known would be of no help. Wretched mare, I remarked silently.
"That one girl said she knew a way out," Doormat mumbled louder than normal.
"Which girl?" Rarity raised an eyebrow.
"Purple coat, really frazzled," Doormat brushed her mane from in front of her face, revealing her turquoise eyes darting away.
Rarity stared at her for a moment before taking the final sip of her wine. After she finished her glass, she set it down and looked back to her partner. "Purple Coat? I’ve never heard of anypony by that name."
“No, her coat was purple,” Doormat tried to correct, but the words barely made it past her fumbling lips.
Purple coat and frazzled seemed to ring a bell, or perhaps more of an alarm. The pony I was abducted by the previous night—Twilight, Luna called her—matched that description to the letter. She didn’t seem to know of a way out the last we met, but her memory issue stuck out to me. Though, admittedly, it was a vague description. So vague that it could be any number of ponies—even mistaken in the dim, orange light of the bar, especially with Doormat’s tendency to not make eye contact. But, damned if it wasn’t something . I leaned onto the table. “Have you seen her lately?”
Doormat simply shook her head. “She wasn’t…” Her gaze darted about for a moment before landing firmly on the table. “She wasn’t very nice.”
“You and your stories,” Rarity scoffed. “Ignore my companion. She just wants attention.”
Considering this pathetic pony’s aversion to so much as even looking at others, I doubted that seeking attention had anything to do with it. “I don’t think so.” I shifted my gaze back to Rarity, before pushing back off the table. “I would like to know more about this girl she saw.”
“It’s nopony.” Rarity rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hoof. “Like the rest of the trash here.”
“Nopony,” Doormat parroted, like a good trained puppet. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must have been imagining things.”
Rarity returned a condescending smirk aimed at me. “See?”
The same old story. I sucked air in through my teeth and shoved my seat out. “And this is why I can’t stand your ilk,” I spat out at her, as if the words were an apple past its prime. "You or your lapdog." I glared at Doormat next.
Rarity narrowed her eyes back. Her smirk faded into a disturbingly dead expression—perfectly matching her inner self. Her eyes snapped to Doormat’s glass, still in the girl’s hoof. With a quick light of her horn, the glass flew out of the girl’s hoof, sending the contents flying towards me.
I couldn’t move fast enough, or duck out of the way. Instead, I was left with my only option. To close my eyes as the sickly sweet beverage hit my face. I shook, partially in anger, but mostly from the cold wine now soaked into my fur. When I opened my eyes, I stared daggers at the ill-mannered cretin.
She closed her eyes for a bit longer than an average blink before looking back to me with the same dead expression as she rest her head against her hoof. “She can be awfully clumsy.”
Doormat’s lips quivered, almost as if she was about to cry. She lowered her head, and muttered the words that nearly made me sick. “I’m sorry.”
I clenched my jaw, and turned my back on the two of them. Without anything further, I marched towards the bar, leaving my drink and dignity behind.
“And yet you still trample all over my hospitality,” Rarity called after me, but I chose to ignore her.
“You’re so prone to messes,” Luna said as I approached her. She leaned against the bar with that smug, tired smile I had come to loathe and, at that particular moment, wanted to smack her for.
“Washroom?” I asked, dryly.
She gave a slow motion of her head towards the entry leading to the stairs. “Down the hall to the left.”
“Thank you,” I muttered as I started to leave.
“Though I’d be careful, friend.” I paused, my ear swivelling to Luna. “Be mindful just whose company you find yourself in. After all, you can’t spell hospitality without hospital.” Her brittle laugh tormented my ears as I continued forward and slipped through the doorway.
As if I needed her cryptic advice now.
Luna’s
As I stood there, at the cusp of darkness, I suddenly felt a familiar sense of dread slowly creeping up my spine. This dark hallway—the very one Luna had warned me about before—was all that stood between me and clean fur. The air grew frigid against my skin, but that may have been from my wine-soaked fur. I couldn’t reek of wine for the rest of the night, and some silly darkness shouldn’t scare me. So I did what any grown pony would do and puffed out my chest while taking the first step.
Luna’s held drunk farmers, cruel nobles, delusional recluses, and the titular barkeep herself, but surely crazed murderers were a step too far even for this place, right?
After a few steps into the darkness, a growing sliver of light appeared at the end of the hall, followed by the creak of an old hinge. My hooves froze in their tracks. My ears swivelled, and I caught a choir of faint sounds. Sniffles and sobs muffled from just behind that door. I took a cautious step and swallowed in anticipation.
A sudden crack that was akin to an axe splitting wood sliced through the air. I nearly leapt out of my skin, and my heart stopped dead. When it started again, a tremble ripped through my foreleg and up my body.
The sobbing continued.
And against my better judgment, so did I. Slowly I crept along the dark hallway towards the crack of light. Call it curiosity or concern—I didn’t know which myself, and to be honest, it was most likely a mixture of the two—but I drew closer and closer to the door.
Another loud crack, and the tremors surged through me again. I nearly screamed, but managed to keep my voice in and heart still.
I pushed further. Slow and careful as to not let a single clap of my hoof on the wood floor be heard. At last I stood outside the door. The source of the sniffling was just beyond, and my heart thumped in my ears. I pressed my face to the crack and peered inside.
My vision flared in blinding light, but once it adjusted, I saw an average restaurant kitchen. Large stove, sink, fryer, island for prep work, refrigerator—nothing out of the ordinary.
But as I scanned the kitchen, a sniffle drew my attention to a lone mare with a bubblegum-pink coat. Her mane, a few shades darker than her fur, drooped like each individual hair had a weight attached. Although it was surely impossible for her to see from behind the curtain of her mane, she held a knife in both forehooves, tip pointed towards the sky.
The knife slammed hard into a cutting board sending the tip of a carrot flying. I jumped again, but not because I was startled. The force with which she swung the knife made it clear. Anger surrounded her like a cloud, and that blade was her release. While she might not be an axe murderer, killing with a knife wouldn’t be too many steps removed.
With that dreadful thought snaking its way to the forefront of my mind—along with a gruesome image of myself strung up and bloody—I decided to take my leave. I stepped back from the door slowly, but a loud squeal came as soon as I put weight on my hoof. My eyes shot down to catch sight of a loose floorboard in the light spilling out from the cracked door. The chopping and sniffling cut off, and when I looked back through the crack, my heart stopped.
The mare’s head turned. From behind the veil of mane, her eyes stood out like pinprick lights on a carriage. Small pupils imbedded in her wide, bloodshot, tear-soaked eyes locked onto mine. My heart dropped like a rock in my chest, but despite my hooves feeling like lead, one thought rang out in my head.
Go .
I scrambled, hooves scrabbling against the hardwood, until I propelled myself forward. But it was too late. Before I even made the second step, my forelegs crossed and I fell flat on my still-sore chin. The door swung open, illuminating the dark hall. A shadow cast over me like looming death as a chill ran up my spine.
"Who are you?" she asked, voice soft and sweet. The words were muffled by something.I turned to see the madmare staring down at me with the same wide eyes, head tilted to the side. The knife handle was clenched tightly in her teeth.
"I-I’m just—" I rolled onto my back and held my hooves up for defense. Not like it would matter—she had me right where she wanted me.
She tilted her head further. Her eyes ran over my whole body, from mane to tail. Suddenly, her pupils widened, and she sucked in a lungful of air. "You’re new!" Her timid voice suddenly burst with enthusiasm. Her mane inflated with her gasp, until it finally popped into a curly mess.
I didn’t have a chance to react. I was hoisted off the floor and spirited into the kitchen before I could even blink.
With a quick snap of her head, the knife was sent tumbling through the air. With a cartoonish thwack , it stuck straight down into the wooden countertop. "And I mean new new. I’ve never seen you here before!” Suddenly I was sent twirling in place before being whipped at the island counter, and held at leg length. When the world stopped spinning, I found myself staring into her impossibly large grin. Larger than any I had ever seen before. Her teeth glinted almost unnaturally, polished to perfection.
Her pupils bounced like balls, and then before I knew it, she was the one bouncing. Up and down, like a filly high on sweets. “What’s your name? Where are you from? What’s your birthday? Favoritecolor?Food?Song?Dance?Flavoroftherainbow—" Words poured from her mouth like a waterfall. I barely registered what she was asking after a point. Everything ran together with her mouth flapping faster and faster until the noise just became gibberish.
Finally she stopped, sucking in a desperate lungful of air. It was then that I took my chance. "I just came to use the washroom."
She snorted, followed by a delightfully cheery giggle. "Well, that’s across the hall, silly."
I cracked an uncomfortable smile as I tried to slip free from her grasp. “I see. Then I suppose I should be going then.”
“Hold on!” she blurted out. Before I could get loose, she dove in, and snaked her forelegs around me in a tight hug.
My body stiffened, and I pinched my eyes closed. The tight embrace, and feeling of her fur mingling in my own sent a dreadfully sick feeling crawling across my skin.
“I hardly ever get visitors back here!” The world was moving again. I rattled to and fro as she hefted me off the ground and swung me about.
“I wonder why,” I choked out through the vise-like hug. Suddenly I was airborne—or more so, at least. Her grip was gone, and I flew up, before abruptly coming back down into her waiting grasp.
“I don’t know,” she replied. When my vision settled I saw a half-frown on her face. But like a switch had been flipped, that vanished as quickly as it came, and once more was replaced with her gigantic smile. I honestly missed dealing with the drunkard, the bitch, and even Luna’s sadistic tendencies over this clingy girl. "So, you just stopped in to use the restroom? You should totally get a room and we can spend more time together! Then you can come visit me every day!"
I planted a hoof on her chest, pressing against her like a trapped cat in a child’s grip. "Well, I have a room."
Her smile fell ever so slightly. The excitement that had illuminated her gaze like a ballroom had fizzled into nothing. With no light and a creepy smile, she seemed hollow. "How long have you been here?"
I swallowed. That sense of dread I had felt while creeping up in the hallway was back. But instead of a door between us, I was now staring danger right in the face. "I honestly can’t say. More than a few days, at least."
Her hair popped—that’s the best way to describe it. Like a balloon with a hole, it deflated from the frizzled mess to the straight locks I had first seen her with. "And you didn’t come see me?" Her voice was small, almost frail. Like the most gentle of breezes would pick it up and carry it away. Her smile was a distant memory now, those dead eyes paired with only a quivering lower lip.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I should have?” As she became more and more pathetic by the passing second, every instinct of mine screamed to get away from her. I glanced to the knife, still firmly planted in the counter.
When I looked back, small pools hung on her lower eyelids. “I-I just…” She sniffled, and the dam broke. “I just never have anypony come back here.”
“I honestly didn’t—”
“No, it’s okay.” Her forelegs dropped down to her sides as her ears and head drooped. “Who would want to see me anyway?” Slowly she turned back towards the counter. Her hoof brushed against the knife handle before pulling it down towards her. “I’m just the creepy cook.”
My body tensed. “N-no, why would you say that?”
She swung back around to face me. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest, the cold of the blade piercing my heart, and fear consume my mind. But then I shook my head, and the pain was gone. I glanced to my side, and saw the knife’s handle tucked innocently between her hoof and my shoulder, the blade pointed safely away. My gaze trailed down to see her head planted firmly against my chest, and warm tears soaking into my already wine-drenched fur.
“You know why! I know what you’re thinking! Why else wouldn’t you come see me?” She looked up with soggy, bloodshot eyes. "I’m not good enough."
Suddenly the door swung open. “There you are.” I spun to find Luna standing there like she had been waiting for just the right moment. Her eyes hung heavy, but a sadistic smirk hung on her lips. “I came as soon as I realized I told you the door on the left when I should have said right.” She paused, and glanced to the side. “Well, shortly after I realized. I see you’ve met our delightful chef, Pinkie Pie.”
“Luna!” the mare—Pinkie, I suppose—cried out. She dropped the knife once more and ran to Luna. She grabbed the taller mare by the shoulders and shook her. “Why can’t I just talk to ponies?”
Luna rolled her eyes. “Because this happens.” She pointed towards me.
"I’m better, I swear! I won’t embarrass myself again!" Pinkie pleaded, burying her face into Luna’s chest.
"That’s what you said last time before that mare tripped into you and you both burst into tears." Luna rolled her eyes. "Besides, what do you call this?"
When Pinkie turned to look at me, she sniffled. Luna shrugged off Pinkie’s grip, letting the emotional mare’s forelegs drop to her sides once more. She then consolingly patted Pinkie on the head. “Ponies can’t handle others who can’t handle themselves.” Her gaze trailed from Pinkie to me. “If only you didn’t worry so much about what others think, you might not break down so often. After all, those who can’t stand alone won’t find stability in others.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. I was starting to feel singled out, the way her eyes were on me rather than the one she was speaking to. “It’s not right to keep her trapped back here,” I retorted. “Just like you keep Twilight upstairs.”
Luna smirked. “I don’t keep anypony against their will. She’s free to go visit anytime.”
Pinkie sniffled. “Ponies don’t like me, so I stay back here. I just make them uncomfortable.”
“But don’t you want ponies to be your friend?” I asked.
She nodded.
“The duality of the pony mind,” Luna remarked, rubbing Pinkie’s mane. “Wanting something so desperately only to feel unworthy once it’s within reach. Remind you of anypony?” Luna’s eyes fixed on me, almost making me feel sick.
“No,” I replied dryly.
She shrugged in response. “Very well. This is why I told you not to come back here before. She’s quite a bit to handle.”
“Sorry.” Pinkie’s head fell, and her mane covered her face once more. “If I had time to prepare, it might’ve been more fun.”
Luna then motioned to the door. “If you still wish to clean up, it’s across the hall.”
I stepped to walk past them. My eyes fell on Pinkie, a disgusting pang of nausea boiling to the surface before I looked to the dark hallway. “Thank you,” I muttered before taking my leave.
Luna’s
I sat, eyes locked ahead on the empty bench across the table. It had only been a few minutes since the kerfuffle had thrown the dining room into disarray, but in that short time, everypony had quieted down and withdrawn back into themselves. The wonderful vacancy behind the bar where Luna normally stood made me smile; the longer it took her to return, the better. The feeling from the cur Rarity’s icy gaze burrowing deep into the back of my skull made sure even that small kernel of happiness was short-lived.
A heavy sigh trundled past my lips. Only just out of bed and already I was ready to turn back in. My gaze drifted sideways to the window, and then beyond to the ever-shifting fog. Even though it was a solid gray, I could see it roiling and churning like the waves on a rocky coast in the midst of a pounding storm. In that moment, there was little I wouldn’t have given for just a little normalcy. Normalcy and the chance to actually finish a cup of coffee without some self-important, pompous bitch ruining my mood.
Was that so much to ask for?
The answer came in the form of the soft knock of hooves on wood. From the doorway leading upstairs, Luna stepped out with an annoyed grimace plastered across her usually smug face. It struck me as odd, since she should have come from the other side of the frame. Then my heart leapt into my throat as something moved behind her. A mare stepped out and stood next to Luna—Twilight. She was the same size as the rest of us—that is, smaller than Luna—but her drooping head and ears made her seem tinier still. Even though I had witnessed her ramblings myself and knew that she was unstable—maybe even dangerous—at that moment, she resembled nothing to me so much as a sulking child being set free from her time-out.
Luna opened her mouth, and my ears swiveled around just in time for me to faintly hear her say, "Don’t make me regret this."
Twilight gave a slow, heavy nod.
Luna glanced sluggishly to the bar and took the few slow steps needed to return behind the counter for some much-needed support. Her foreleg propped up on the countertop, and she rested her head against a hoof. Her eyes, taking in every last scrap of information yet offering none in return, flicked towards me, and my skin crawled.
I shot my gaze to Twilight just as she peeked out from under her frazzled mane. Her ears dared to perk up as she took a step towards my booth. One shaky step became two, then three, and within seconds she had taken up a wobbly pace.
From her table, the shrill voice of Rarity stabbed my eardrums. "Purple Coat. See? And you thought she was make believe." Her disgusting laugh pierced the air as she jabbed Doormat with a hoof.
Twilight didn’t even acknowledge Rarity, nor did she ask my permission as she slid into the seat across from me. Her eyes locked onto mine, deadly serious and lacking the watery confusion they had held the night before. As I examined her, a plethora of emotions warred for control on her face—confusion, relief, worry, fear—until finally I noticed a dark circle around her left eye. That it had taken me so long to see it was a sign of how badly this nightmarish inn was affecting me.
I glanced pointedly at her eye. "Are you alright?"
She blinked rapidly and shook her head. "Oh, yes. I’m fine," she said, giving a nervous laugh. A shaky hoof snapped up to cover her shame. "It’s nothing, really."
After my time in this place, skepticism had become my default reaction. I shot a quick glare in Luna’s direction. "She hit you, didn’t she."
Her eyes bounced around nervously before she shook her head. She started to laugh, but when she noticed I wasn’t sharing in it, she sighed. "This is embarrassing." Her cheeks flushed bright red as her ears fell. "After you left last night, I jumped on the bed so I could fight Luna if I needed to. When I jumped up, I slipped on the sheet and fell, hitting my face on the nightstand on my way down, breaking it and leaving me with a pretty nasty mark."
An involuntary groan slipped out as I pressed a hoof to my forehead. "What are you, a child?"
"You go a little stir crazy when locked inside a dark room for days on end." Twilight furrowed her brow. "Besides, it was a sobering experience. I’m much more cognizant now." She puffed out her chest defiantly.
"Stir crazy?" I raised an eyebrow as I folded my forelegs.
She nodded, finally pulling the hoof away from her eye.
"You call that stir crazy?"
She nodded again, though her ear twitched rapidly as she did.
"So, this ‘stir crazy’—" I stressed with air quotes "—is why you abducted me?" I asked dryly.
"Oh, no. That was because the voices," she replied in her own dry tone as she rolled her eyes.
The sarcasm rang clear, but unfortunately didn’t do much to reassure me. Certainly she was better than last night, but who was to say this would last? How could I be sure she wouldn’t jump on the table and proclaim herself ruler of the bar while holding me hostage? I narrowed my eyes at her.
Her hooves snapped to the sides of her head, running through her mane while a groan slipped past her lips. "I’m not crazy!" she yelled as she brought her legs crashing down onto the table.
In the silence that followed, my eyes trailed over to see Rarity and Doormat both staring at us. I cleared my throat, but as I was about to speak, a steaming mug of coffee dropped onto the table with a hollow thud. I watched as the contents sloshed back and forth, lapping up against the cup’s rim but never spilling. Once satisfied that it wouldn’t make a mess, my gaze trailed up to the only pony in this place who could have dropped it so skillfully and rudely at the same time. Luna stood tall over us both with that same look she had the previous night—one of disappointment.
"Could’ve fooled me," she said, heavy gaze boring down on Twilight, who shrunk under the scrutiny. After a moment, she found brief respite as Luna’s eyes landed on me. "I hope she isn’t being a bother?"
I took a deep breath. "No, she’s fine."
"Good.” Her attention fell back to Twilight, sinking into her like a wolf would sink its fangs into a sheep. “Enjoy your chat," she muttered before stepping back towards the counter. In her absence, the air felt unnaturally cold.
As soon as Luna was gone, Twilight’s chin dropped to the table. Her body relaxed and oozed forward almost as if she was melting in place. She took a few deep breaths, and looked back up to me. "I have to get out of here."
"You kept saying that last night," I said.
"I did?" Her ears perked up. This set me back in my seat—was this mare so far gone that she couldn’t even remember things she had done the night before? Twilight apparently noticed my concern and tried to brush it off with a laugh. "Of course I did! Just testing you!"
"Right," I replied dryly. "And what, exactly, are you testing me on again?"
Her face flushed red again. "Okay, things are still a little fuzzy," she admitted as she gently brushed her swollen eye with the back of her hoof. "But I’m not crazy."
I eyed her over once more. The frazzled mess of a mane, unkempt coat, bruised eye—I would be crazy myself to trust somepony so shady, but at the same time, her good eye was fixed on mine, quivering slightly. She was certainly desperate, and looking at my options, she was the closest thing to a friend I had here.
My eyes fell to the steam rising slowly from the coffee. "Your door was locked before. Is she holding you here?”
Twilight’s eyes moved to the floor, but her head stayed glued to the table. “I don’t even know why I asked her to keep the door locked.”
I flicked my gaze to Luna behind the bar, finding her disinterest only skin deep as her eyes stayed locked onto our booth. “So then leave. You can do that, right?" I asked in a low tone.
She rolled her eyes off to the side and let out a groan. "Getting through the door is easy enough. It’s what comes after that presents difficulty."
My heart locked in my chest, slowly sinking inside a growing pit in my stomach. "What do you mean?"
"There’s still the woods.” She waved her hoof in the direction of the window. “I want out of it all. Not just the bar."
I let out a small sigh of relief. Part of me worried she was getting at something. The numerous guests, all trapped here—I worried it was all by Luna’s design. If everypony trapped here revolved around her, then maybe Luna was some sort of gatekeeper. If that was the case, then maybe what Discord had said was true, that I must be ready before I can leave. Ready by her standards, that is. My heart cautiously climbed from the hole in my stomach. What little comfort the unknown brought was welcomed, at least.
"Most things are fuzzy, but I do remember something important." Twilight’s ears perked up. "I remembered what I was going to tell you last night."
"And what’s that?" I asked before taking a sip of my coffee.
She pulled her head from the table. “I wanted a way out of here, and you’re my ticket."
"Me?" I raised an eyebrow. "How am I supposed to get you out of here when I can’t even do that for myself?"
Twilight opened her mouth, but the words never came out. Her ears fell back a moment later and sighed. "I don’t know how, but I remember where," she finally added with puffed out cheeks. She glanced across the bar at Luna once more before she leaned in close with a hoof held up to keep her voice from reaching Luna’s ears. “That is to say I happen to know where the exit is, but you’ve got to open it.”
The cautiousness in my chest dared for a moment. It dared to turn into hope.
Perhaps I should have known better.
Luna’s
I found myself once more staring into the abyss—the pitch-black hallway down which I had only hours ago thought I was going to die. My heart hammered in my chest, replacing the sinking sensation that accompanied me on my first excursion down this damnable passage.
My gaze darted back over my shoulder to the dining room for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few minutes. Rarity’s voice carried clearly all the way out in all of its shrill, grating glory, but aside from her, I was far enough away that the patrons’ conversations were but a low murmur. As far as I could tell, nobody had seen me leave. The fewer to know what I was undertaking the better. I leaned forward just a hair, hoping to catch a glimpse of Luna resting against the bar, but no such luck.
A sudden creak from the hallway snatched my attention and brought my already racing heart up into my throat. In the darkness, I could make out a slightly darker patch that vaguely resembled a pony. "This way—” came Twilight’s whispering voice "—the cook’s busy in the freezer."
The two of us snuck down the hall with light steps until we passed the kitchen and came to a door with a thick, frosted window. Orange light seeped around the edges, painting a sickly splash of colour on the opposite wall. Twilight opened the door and immediately the gross light from overhead overwhelmed my senses, tainting the green grass and normally white fog in its revolting hue.
We stepped outside and found ourselves in a small clearing behind the tavern. It was markedly more open than out front—certainly fewer trees cluttering the area—but even so, the fog kept its secrets, forming a seemingly impenetrable wall of orange-tinged gray only a few steps away from the building.
Twilight caught my eye and glanced pointedly along the tavern’s back wall. Just a few feet away was a cellar door, nestled between two mounds of dirt.
Without warning she raced over and brought a hoof crashing down on the rotting wood; the doors shuddered but held, clearly more solid than they appeared . Twilight pushed off the wood, now bouncing in place without her hooves actually leaving the ground. "It’s here!" she whispered through clenched teeth. She let out a low whine as she turned her eerily wide smile in my direction. "This is Luna’s secret—the way out!"
My body went cold for a split second as her words slowly registered. My chest felt so tight, breathing had become difficult. "A-are you sure this is the way out?"
Her head rocked back and forth so hard I thought it might just fly off into the woods—which still wouldn’t have been the most unsettling thing I’d seen in this wretched place. After one hard flick of her head, it came to an abrupt halt, and her hoof then snapped in the direction of the cellar. "Come on, open the door!"
I swallowed slowly, deliberately, forcing down the lump in my throat. "It just seems awfully suspicious."
"Trust me,” Twilight said in between her heavy breaths. “I may not know what exactly is down there, but I do know it’s a way out of these topsy-turvey woods."
For so long, I had been longing for a way out of this place, but now that somebody was telling me we had found just that, I couldn’t keep myself from shivering. I pinched my eyes firmly closed and took a step forward. I didn’t look until I was standing in front of the ancient cellar entrance. A thick, grime-encrusted chain held the doors shut, locked firmly in place with a rusted padlock. In spite of this, Twilight said that freedom from this nightmare lay past those doors. I had to at least try to get it opened. After a few deep breaths, I reached out to prod at the padlock, only to gasp and jump back.
The chains and rusted metal crumbled to dust, ghosting away on the wind.
I blinked absently, mouth agape, before throwing a quick glance to Twilight. Metal doesn’t just melt away like that! Certainly she had some sort of explanation, some sort of reason to tell me exactly what had just happened. But she offered nothing, only watching me impatiently as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Did you—”
“Come on!” Twilight demanded with a firm stomp. Even I felt the ground shudder, even if only slightly.
Of all the things I’d seen in this place, a vanishing lock ranked awfully low of the list of weird occurrences—between the changing book, Discord, and the fact this place even exists. Questioning everything odd here would put me at wits' end by the end of a single night. I shook my head and looked back down at the door. I fumbled with the rust-encrusted iron ring chained to the grey boards. It rattled heavily until I slipped a hoof through the large loop at the end and pulled the door open. The rusted hinges squealed, the wooden boards protested, but eventually it gave way. As the door swung open, we were immediately hit with a gust of dusty, musty air.
Both of us coughed, spitting out dirty brown puffs from our lungs.
"Keep it down up there!" a high-pitched crackling voice called out from the darkness.
I raised an ear, then shifted my gaze to Twilight, who gave me a helpless shrug.
I sighed, then turned back to the abyss. "Hello?"
A groan was my response. "Shut up!" the voice followed up with a biting tone that felt like a whip against my eardrum.
My eyes narrowed. "This is the most rude cellar I’ve ever dealt with." I rolled my eyes and let out a low groan.
“Cellars aren’t usually rude.” Twilight’s ears twitched as she leaned forward to peer into the darkness. Her head tilted slightly. “This is definitely a special one.”
I fought the urge to slap my face with a hoof. “Of course not. Cellars don’t usually talk. ”
"Oh, for the love of—I’m not a cellar!" the darkness called out.
“I know, ” I replied with a dry bite before rolling my eyes once more. “I have quite enough to deal with without another pony diving headfirst into utter nonsense, thank you very much.”
“If you’re not a cellar…” Twilight gasped, a big grin spreading across her face. "Who knows what mysteries lie inside! I have so many questions!" Twilight bounced once before bolting down the stairs into the abyss.
I pressed a hoof to my face. For somepony who insisted that she was sane, she certainly didn’t show it sometimes. It would have been so easy to just close the cellar door and turn back, and for a moment, I seriously considered it. After all, a half-full cup of lukewarm coffee still awaited me inside. My eyes turned to the back door of the tavern as I bit my lower lip.
"Is this it?" Twilight’s voice echoed up. “You’re just a pony!”
I sighed, and turned back to the hole. Reluctantly I took a step down onto the stone stairs. As much as I wanted to return to my seat and finish the cup of swill that Luna claimed was coffee, part of me still believed in Twilight—even if she was certifiably insane. I pressed on into the cellar and once I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes widened.
Instead of a dirty, musty basement filled with cobwebs, the walls were dark-stained wood with a slight polish glinting in the soft candle-light. A brown fur rug took up most of the room, with smooth cobbled stone around the edges. My eyes were drawn to a heap of pillows in the middle of the cellar. A candle cast a warm orange glow from its place on what appeared to be a nightstand.
Crowning the throne of pillows was a light blue pegasus mare with a vibrant rainbow mane. She smacked her lips with eyes hung heavy before she let out a long yawn. I felt her deep rosey eyes slinking across my skin like a snake. After a moment she raised one shoulder for a shrug, but fell off balance and toppled over onto the pile of pillows.
I looked over at Twilight, who glared at the mare. “I feel so lied to,” she muttered.
“No duh! What else would I be?” the mare replied just as she sucked in another lungful of air for a loud yawn. Her eyes fell closed until just barely a crack remained. “I guess I could be a spider or something down in this basement. Well, I did dream I was a spider, once. That was so weird.”
Twilight lessened her glare and took a step back. “You dreamt you were a spider once?” She pressed her hoof to her chin.
“This all sounds fascinating,” I said, rolling my eyes once more, “but would you happen to know a way out of here?”
The mare lay silent with her eyes lazily locked on mine. “I dreamt about being out of here once too, but it was kind of a hassle.”
My jaw clenched tight. “Listen—”
“Well, a dream about something fascinating will have to do. Could you tell me about that time you were a spider?” Twilight clapped her hooves together before dropping onto her haunches. I opened my mouth to protest, but she pulled a quill and notepad from seemingly thin air. "It would be nice to know their respective perspective."
The mare rolled onto her back, her legs hanging limply skyward. “I could tell you about a lot of dreams I had.” A small, pleased smirk spread across her face. “Flying high above, in the sky—” Her hoof waved slowly across the ceiling “—being pretty much every animal, on a stage in a fancy dress with a crowd of cheering ponies, making everypony in the world smile, and getting a pat on the head from some big shot.” She let out a small chuckle as her eyes drift closed completely. “I even remember one where I played to a sold-out crowd.”
I raised an eyebrow and sighed. “She sounds mental,” I whispered to Twilight. “All this about dreams, but where’s the way out?”
She cracked one lazy eye open and glanced at me. “You two are too loud. Just chill for a while.”
“Unlike you, I have things I’d rather do than stay here!” I snapped.
“Me too!” she replied. “I’d rather be sleeping, because in my dreams I can be whatever I want. I don’t need to be tied down by anything. My imagination can just run wild, and when I know what I want to do, I’ll finally be ready to get out of this place.”
The voice of Discord echoed in my head once more. “What did you say?”
She smacked her lips after another yawn. “I dream because it’s the only thing that keeps me going. What else is there to do if you don’t have a dream?” She shrugged and rolled onto her side.
My heart slowly crept up in my chest once more. It couldn’t be a coincidence. She said the same thing as Discord, which meant she might just be my ticket out of here. “Could you tell me about that dream then? The one where you dreamt about getting out of here?” I asked in a soft tone, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t remember it too well. It was a long time ago.” She groaned and rolled over. “Maybe I could have it again if you leave me alone, okay?”
“No!” Twilight jumped up, stomping her hoof hard on the ground. “I wanted to hear about you being a spider!”
I jabbed her with my elbow.
“I mean, we want to get out of here!” she corrected. “So you have to tell us!”
“Tell you what, exactly?” My spine crawled with a frozen chill racing up it as a familiar voice came from behind. I glanced back, although I could have saved myself the effort—I already knew who it was. Nobody else could infuriate me like she could, not even that pompous harlot Rarity.
There, standing at the top of the stairs with the moonlight spilling in from behind her, was Luna. My heart stopped dead in my chest, and once more dread tried to shove it right out into my throat.
“L-Luna.” Twilight dropped her quill and pad, shrinking down into a quivering pile as the tall mare slowly descended the stairs.
“Please, continue,” Luna said in a lazy voice. “Maybe I can offer some insight.” No sooner had she sashayed into the candlelight than I saw her eyes—lidded but cold, staring directly at the mare on the pillows. Her lips, usually twisted into her staple teasing smirk, now were pulled tight in a less-than-amused scowl as she stepped slowly, calculatingly towards us before stopping just past Twilight and I.
“Oh, hey, Luna,” the mare on the pillows said with a small wave. “It cool if I come out yet?”
“That depends. Can you stay awake?” Luna tilted her head quizzically.
The mare chuckled slightly. “No way.”
“Then it’s best you rest here until you’re done dreaming, Rainbow Dash.” Luna’s eyes flicked to Twilight. “I said ‘don’t make me regret this,’ did I not?”
Twilight nodded, still quivering.
"And you,” she went on, running her oily gaze over me. I could feel it sliding across my coat. Disgusting. “Disrespecting others’ privacy all in the hopes of getting out of some foggy woods? You should respect the power of a lock.”
I pinched my eyes closed and sucked in a lungful of air. Again, she tried to act superior to me when she had somepony locked in a basement. “You can’t keep—”
My gaze was caught up in hers, cold and piercing, and I couldn’t keep myself from taking a step back. “Oh, yes,” she said with a chortle. “This should be rich. My lovely guest is going to set me straight in front of the oppressed."
Instead of her usual light laughter, this was slower, more striking with a harsh delivery; somehow her chuckling leached the warmth from everything around us, and for a moment, I thought I saw my breath between us as she loomed over.
"Now, tell me, I can’t what?" She tilted her head to the side, ghastly stare still keeping me locked in place. "Keep ponies locked up?” She loosed another laugh, and again the stabbing chords sucked all the energy from my body. “And we go once more, another round on the broken record. Well, it’s time we get off this tired track, wouldn’t you agree?” She snorted, stepping forward and lording her stature over me. “But, you won’t. So please, tell me again how I’m wrong for ‘keeping ponies against their will’ in that condescending, sarcastic tone of yours. We could use a dose of your wit to lighten the dreary mood."
I opened my mouth to speak, but nearly choked on my words.
Luna craned her neck down, shoving her glare right down my throat as I stared into her icy-blue eyes like a helpless filly. "No snarky comeback? No faux-moral superiority to assume? It was always so good for a laugh to see you storm off muttering some cheap insult from the safety of a doorway or your smug high horse.” She slammed her hoof down, pressing her chest forward, bumping my chin, and toppling me back onto my haunches. "So tell me how foolish I was when I opened my bar to you, offered you shelter from the harsh elements, and provided you everything you needed to survive when I could have just as easily tossed you out.”
Staring up at her, with those fiercely flashing eyes and flaring nostrils, something inside me snapped. My jaw clenched firm. I shan’t be spoken to like that—not by her. I sucked in a deep breath ready to unleash hell back upon her, but before I even said a single word, I noticed something wonderful. I saw it deep in Luna’s frigid eyes—a fire. She was mad. Luna—the monolith—had been shaken. My jaw loosened, and instead of chewing her out, I laughed. I laughed like I had never laughed before.
Her eyes, usually flat and uninterested in the world around her, widened as I laughed right in her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as I got to my hooves and took a step towards the stairway. “I can’t believe it,” I said between chuckles. “All this time and I finally got to you for once.”
Luna took a step back, eyes narrowing once more.
"This is too much," I said with a pleased sigh. "I think I had best go to bed. I won’t be topping this tonight." As I took the first step onto the stairs, I was stopped.
“Before you get too full of yourself, just remember whose name is on the front of the building. I may be generous enough to open my business to you, but if you go snooping in somepony else’s business again, it won’t end well.”
I glanced back to find her glare had been replaced with her standard uninterested look, though she had yet to put her tired smile back on. Without giving her the satisfaction of a reply, I climbed out of the cellar and returned to my room.
Luna’s
I bolted from the bar, leaving a vaguely apathetic call from Luna telling me to wait a moment. It was a blur as I ran past the horrid wallpaper, decaying wood, and sickening orange light. I faintly remember hearing the squeal from the rusted hinges as the door slammed shut behind me.
I didn’t know where I was going, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my legs had to carry me as far from Luna as they could. As soon as my hooves hit the dirt path in front of the bar I took a sharp turn to my left. The right path had brought me here to this cursed place, so the left had to be my way out.
So, I ran through the mist, down that lonesome road. I prayed that it would lead to safety, or anyplace but that damnable tavern and away from that crazed mare. I missed my home, my bed, my—
I slowed my sprint to a stop. I glanced behind me, feeling an odd sensation calling me back. What did I miss again? I found myself asking as I stared back in the direction of Luna’s. The bar was long out of sight, though I didn’t know how long I had been running.
With a confused look, I turned to look ahead of me once more. As I watched the shifting mist around me, I felt surrounded. It was as though it was closing in around me, almost stifling in a way. With a cautious glance back and forth to the sides, I started walking once more.
Home. I paused on that word, feeling it echo through my entire being. Why did I want to go home in the first place? What was waiting for me there? Since I had gotten into these woods, I never really thought about why I wanted to escape.
“What’s in a home?” I asked aloud. “Bed, food, my things—but what’s so important about those things? What else is there—”
“Around, around, around, around you go, yet the answers won’t come, will they?” A voice pulled me from my thought. I looked up to see a creature floating in mid air. Its body was long—serpent like—but it had fur. Its arms and legs were from a hodgepodge of creatures, mismatched and misshapen. This thing stared down at me with a wicked grin, showing a single long, pointed fang hanging from its elongated jaw.
“Lost in the fog, are we?” it asked with a deep, entrancing voice before it snapped up from a sprawled position to one as though it were reclining in a chair. It placed its arms behind its head and continued to stare like a cat with a mouse caught in a trap.
“W-what are you?”
“Who would be a more polite term, but I’m not picky.” It descended down, almost until it was touching the ground. “Discord is my name.”
“Discord?”
He—I decided upon—nodded. “So, what brings a pony like you out here, hm?”
I took a small step back. Whoever this Discord was, I didn’t like the look of him. Something about the way he spoke made me feel even more uncomfortable than even Luna made me feel. Like he was toying with me from the very instant he laid his eyes on me. “Just out for an evening stroll,” I said, mustering the most matter-of-fact voice I could.
“A stroll? Here?” He laughed. “That’s rich.” He rolled onto his stomach once more and propped his head up on his hands.
“And what’s so strange about walking?”
“No one would go walking in these woods. At least not unless they were already lost.”
“I am not lost,” I protested, stomping my hoof, defiantly. “A little confused, perhaps, but I most certainly am not lost.” The thought of conceding to this creature was utterly infuriating. Perhaps it was his demeanor or his voice, but I wouldn't let someone who thought they were better than me toy with me like he was.
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I see. So, where, pray tell, is this place?”
I puffed out my chest, feeling a challenge. “Obviously in a forest.”
“And the forest?”
I glared at him. “That’s…”
He waited patiently for my reply, nodding to encourage me as I contemplated my answer.
Finally, I huffed. I walked into that one. “So, I may not know exactly where I am, but are you in any better shape?”
He shrugged, nonchalantly.
“All that matters is I am moving forward…” I glanced over my shoulder for a brief second. “As long as I’m away from that crazed mare, it’s fine,” I muttered to myself.
A devilish smirk came across his face. “Avoiding somepony ?”
“Perhaps.” I sighed. As much as it pained me, this creature did seem to know something about these woods. He was the first living soul I had seen outside of that tavern and he seemed more lucid than Luna or that other mare. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get out of here, would you?”
Discord placed his claw to his chin and stroked his beard. “A way out of here? Why, there is no way out. Only a way in. If you want out, you’ll have to be ready to leave.”
“I am ready.” I narrowed my gaze at him.
“You don’t look ready.” His eyes ran over me from head to hoof for a second.
I rolled my own. “If you won’t help me then I’ll find my own way—”
“As I said, you don't look ready to leave these woods.” His smirk grew wider. “And if you're not ready, you had best be careful, little pony . These woods have a nasty habit of driving those inside completely insane.” His head twisted like a cap to a bottle, though his eyes stayed firmly in place and fixed on me.
The sight made me step back, my own eyes widening in disgust. Just as I started to question it though, I suddenly felt a claw cover my mouth. I turned to see where the claw was coming from to find Discord’s face staring right at me. I stumbled back with a gasp.
“So, be on your guard.”
“W-what—”
“I wouldn’t stay here long if I were you. Insanity can do nasty things to a pony.” He chuckled, kicking his legs in the air as he held his gut. “Though I can’t say it’s all bad. After all, I lost my sanity quite sometime ago."
Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been real. I was watching him the whole time, he couldn’t have done that. I stared for a moment, making sure my mind wasn’t going to play any more tricks on me. I finally shook my head.
“I didn’t plan on it,” I said, forcing a brave tone. Without so much as another word, I turned my back to him and started walking forward along the path once more. I could hear him laughing to himself as I walked the endless road.
“These woods can’t drive me any more insane than Luna was.” I said to myself, his words of ‘wisdom’ still echoing in my mind. “Though perhaps she’s more tolerable than that bloke.” The thought of Luna’s eerie giggle contrasted against that serpent’s gaze made my skin nearly crawl off my body.
As much as I hated to admit it, Luna had worked her way back into my thoughts. My whole body shuddered just remembering how the writing in that book changed. How could it have changed? Writing doesn’t change in a book, not unless it was erased. She didn’t have time to do that. “It just doesn’t seem possible.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. Maybe I was imagining things. I came to a stop as that stray thought crossed my mind. I shook my head to loosen that odd notion.
“No, clearly it was different!” I reaffirmed aloud. “Luna isn’t to be trusted, even that pony next door said—”
The one that’s obviously crazy? I took a deep breath, feeling my heart sink.
“She’s locked up, that doesn’t mean she’s crazy."
She’s locked in that room for a reason and I doubt Luna is doing it just to silence her.
“I know what I saw. Even if that pony is crazy, that book changed.” My heart sank even further as a thought I didn’t want to vocalize came to mind. I took a deep breath and looked up into the fog. The swirling mass seemed to close around me even tighter, until I could almost reach out and touch it. “I may have been wanting to have a reason to distrust her…”
I groaned at myself. The details seemed to blur together. Had I really seen writing there or was I imagining it? “Even if there wasn’t writing, she’s still a hard pony to trust!”
I looked around me. The fog was growing thicker. “Not that I have many ponies to rely on here…” I scrunched my muzzle. Even if I couldn’t trust her, she was offering a roof over my head and shelter from this creepy fog. “Maybe I should go back…”
I looked to the path in front of me. Ahead, I saw a light cutting through the thick of the mist. My heart nearly jumped for joy in my chest. A light means someone, which meant a possible way out. I couldn’t stop the grin from coming across my lips. Before I knew it, I burst into an all-out sprint towards this light.
As I drew near, the silhouette of a building came into view. Then, the light started to separate into letters. as soon as I could make out what those letters were, I felt my heart nearly fall out of my chest. My sprint slowed to a crawl as I read “Luna’s” from the bright neon sign.
Despite my efforts to run away, I was here once more. I had somehow found myself back at this damnable bar. Perhaps what Luna said was true. Those in these woods do find their way to this tavern, even if it’s the last place they want to be.
