Midnight Strikes Midnight

It was an awful time. A simply awful time. Had I known my ambivalence would cost me my own soul I would have surely driven back the temptation long ago. 'Twas only a few weeks ago, before the morrow. I was stricken of my sleep- insomnia. I decided it would be a refreshing and no doubt cleansing experience to partake in a late-night stroll. The night was young, but the darkness tore through me like a bolt of devious lightning.

I took with me nothing but my shawl, and a lantern, one of which had been used by someone prior to me. I locked the door behind me a proceeded into the night. As I drifted down the street in an almost inebriated stupor, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A shadow indeed, but it seemed to be... darker, than the blackness prior. I lifted the lantern from my side and attempted to illuminate the shadowy figure. What loomed back at me seemed to be a rather staunch pony, head covered closely by hood. All I could recognize resembling a feature to identify with, was a single, ominously glowing eye. I stood there, not frightened, but deathly concerned.

Had I known this figure would stand before me at this hour, I would have brought something to defend myself with, or at least to distract or intimidate it whilst I fled. The figure started to eerily stride in my direction, somehow his hooves not making any sound or mark as to if he was indeed moving his legs to reach his destination. He, for lack of a better term, was floating. I executed a short plan that, in theory, should have allowed me to escape this denizen. In actuality, this was not the case. For every step I would make, the figure would drift closer to me. This continued until the pony was merely a few feet away from me, and I could have sworn I head the whispers of the devils and the damned. My instinct demanded I flee, but my body wholly rejected the idea. I was frozen, a possible death awaiting me in the moments to come.

The figure was now so close I could feel death's embrace just inches away from my neck. I was respiring rapidly. All signs pointed to my untimeliness, and yet my body refused to give movement. I abhorrently, absolutely despised and loathed my scenario. I dreaded, and contemplated my own fate. Was I to be robbed? To be slain? Was this merely a young pony playing some sick practical joke? The figure moved its head close and towards my ear commanded, "Return." At that very moment, I began exasperating I could feel my lungs filling with fear. I felt a sharp, shrill pain in my head, and was engulfed in a monsoon of unending wretchedness.

My mind felt of pure suffering, of agony, of anguish. I had only realized this after the lantern shattered and pierced my right leg. The shards of glass left a serious laceration near my hoof, and blood exited at a rapid, but paced speed. I moved side-to-side in a haze, before finally crashing to the ground, and losing grasp on consciousness. Before this, I had a glimpse of my aggressor. I saw stitches across its face, and many bruises. It was then I knew that I would never be able to escape. All hope I had of retreat was dashed, and replaced with the feeling of dread. Oh, curse this day, for it is the one that I am ended! May Celestia have mercy on me for being so foolish. And with that, I fell to slumber.