The city was covered with a blanket of rain. The buildings arched upward, hiding the citizens who dwell within. Higher and higher the buildings climbed, reaching heights unimagined a century earlier. Looming over all.
Between these buildings, among the back alleys, the narrow concrete paths lay obscured beneath large rippling puddles. They overflowed towards the storm drains, leaving behind only the distorted echoes of rushing water.
The puddles were disturbed as a pair of hooves crashed upon them, sending water everywhere. They did not linger long before galloping off down the alley with haste. The tiny, raincoated figure hurried through the night, her purple-and-pink tail streamed out behind her as she ran through the downpour. Her hooves thudded on the concrete path, occasionally muffled by the splash of a puddle.
Sweetie Belle tried her best to ignore the rain pelting her face and the constant jostling of the near-empty saddlebags against her side. The water splashed up, soaking her legs as she ran through the numerous puddles of rainwater beneath her. She tried to ignore the annoying fact that her little white-and-purple polka-dotted raincoat was highly unsuitable for this sort of weather. No, she must focus on her task tonight.
A sane pony wouldn’t be out here, and a saner pony would’ve quit a long time ago. Not her. Sweetie Belle needed to be out here. She, her parents, and her elder sister Rarity were on vacation in Fillydelphia to visit some relatives on her mother’s side, whom they hadn’t seen
in years. She had enjoyed the trip quite a bit. Sweetie got to see famous landmarks with her parents, and she loved shopping with her big sister. Living most of her life in Ponyville, it was an adventure in itself to experience such a big city.
***
One of the most popular tourist attractions was the city's Historic District. Fillydelphia sat on ancient ground, its foundations laid before the time of the princesses. Beneath its modern streets lay layers of history like rings on a tree stump. What little that remained of the old city which had survived the sands of time had been rebuilt to resemble the past, with actors parading through the streets along with shops recreating the food stuffs and items from a time long gone.
Their hotel was located not too far from the historic district. While returning from a shopping trip with Rarity, Sweetie happened to see an older advertisement. It was a poster, sepia in colour as it had weathered with age. What caught her attention was the dull black and white images on it, depicting a smiling, mime-like mask surrounded by toys of all sorts. Above it there was a headline that arched across the top of the poster. “Fillydelphia's Historic District Presents: A History of Toys!” At the very bottom, in tiny print, was the address.
Oh, how she had begged and pleaded for Rarity to take her, but the white unicorn had hesitated, unsure of visiting the historic district. Unlike her parents, Rarity couldn't fathom why ponies would waste their time visiting dirty old buildings that should've been condemned a long time ago. Plus, the city’s Pegasi had scheduled a storm for later that evening that was said to last until the next morning. Even now, high above the city, they were at work, pushing some foreboding black rain clouds into position. However, Sweetie Belle's constant pestering had won out and Rarity reluctantly agreed to take her grousing, grumbling and groaning all the way. Once concrete gave way to flagstones, they were within the district proper. Sweetie enjoyed all the sights and along with the costumes, even Rarity had to admit that even in those times, Ponies knew how to make a visual impression.
The further they walked into the district, the more time-worn the buildings became. The derelict structures that encompassed them on all sides were old-time shops and houses made of cracked stone and rotting wood that gave the impression of caving in at any second. Whereas the previous more up-kept sections of the historic district had been alive, with greenery and paint and ponies, this place held the ambience of a corpse. No bright colours decorated the walls of the houses and no ponies cantered through the streets on their morning commute. No trees grew here, nor did there remain even a shrivelled skeleton of whatever shrubbery once adorned the walls. Once upon a time, wealth and affluence had ruled this neighbourhood, but now only a hollow shell of its former glory remained.
The section of the district they passed through seemed much quieter than the usual areas. They barely saw any ponies on the street, until Sweetie realised that they had been completely alone for some time. Rarity's bellyaching only increased in volume and vocabulary when they discovered that the address forced them to take a back alley filled with abandoned junk. Discarded packing crates littered the alley, long-abandoned clothes that were overgrown with mold, torn books and advertising flyers fluttered frantically in the encroaching winds, and furniture either rusted or broken lay abandoned. All of it was haphazardly shoved into a jumbled and confusing heap against the the walls.
A few more junk-filled alleyways later, they finally reached what had to be their destination. A two story building with stone and wood architecture that was identical to all the other buildings that sat within the vicinity. The windows were faded and scratched and there were
tiny cracks in the stone walls, but the building overall did not hold the same deserted and decrepit look the others had displayed. Above a set of double doors there was a faded but grand sign: Fillydelphia Toy Museum. Rarity marched up to the doors and pushed them
open.
Or at least she tried to. They wouldn't budge. She pushed harder, then used her magic to jiggle the large door handles, but they still wouldn’t budge. Giving up, she pounded her hoof on the door producing loud, furious thumps. Sweetie Belle took an uncertain step away
upon seeing her big sister’s frustration.
Failing to get any kind of response, Rarity hollered harshly, disturbing some roosting crows who flew away with a sudden flapping of wings, their squawks echoing throughout the alleyway. Nopony answered. She then tried using her magic to pull and then push the doors open with an equal result. By this time, to say Rarity was seething would've been an understatement.
As Sweetie Belle backed away from her ever increasingly impatient sister, she decided to sneak a peek in through the windows. After rubbing the dust from the left side window, she saw what appeared to be an empty receptionist's lobby. The walls were dirty and bright red,
but also held faded posters encased within glass frames. Squinting, she could just make out one of the advertisements: Dinky Toys’ carousel set! Be the envy of your friends! She was about to turn away when she spied something towards the back of the room: a grime-covered display case holding a doll. Staring harder at the old toy, she gasped as she realized that it was an exact replica of herself.
Rarity had been drawn over by her sister’s excited cries and peered into the window with undisguised revulsion. However, when she pointed out the display case at the far end of the room, it was empty. Sweetie Belle could only gape in disbelief and stammer in response to
her big sister’s pointed questions. At last, Rarity's patience ran out. Muttering about wasting her time in this dirty, unkempt place and wanting to get home in order to beat the storm, she dragged her sister back the way they came, ignoring Sweetie's protests for a more thorough investigation.
Sweetie was determined not to give up. It could not possibly have been mere coincidence. Rarity wouldn’t want to go back, and as she put it, even if they were to break in, there was no way she, let alone her parents, would allow her to have an unwashed toy that had been sitting around for Celestia-knew how long in a filthy, grubby and probably germ-infested building! But she had a plan.
She went to bed before everypony else, waiting until late at night before sneaking out. The noise of the storm masked her departure as she hurried along through the shortcut Rarity had taken. Before she knew it, she was at the museum.
***
Sweetie increased her pace as she ran, her eyes adjusting to both the darkness and the rain in her face. She rounded a corner too fast, skidding on the rain-slicked surface before galloping off down the alleyway. This was it. She was here. Somewhere in this alley was the toy museum, but where? It was so dark she couldn't distinguish where the wall met the junk. High above, lightning streaked across the blackened sky with a blinding flash, momentarily distracting Sweetie's attention so that when the enormous thunderclap came so suddenly, she wasn't looking where she was going and stepped right into a rather large puddle.
Her front left hoof slid out to the side from under her. With a startled yell, she barrel rolled into the rain-soaked ground. Thankfully, she managed to avoid slamming her horn against the flagstones as she tumbled head over heels, before sliding to a stop. Slowly, she staggered back on all four hooves. She was completely soaked from head to hoof, and the howling wind that lashed at her raincoat was starting to chill her dampening skin beneath her sodden fur, causing her little limbs to vibrate ever so slightly. The beginnings of a scowl were forming on her lips as she started contemplating the rationality behind her secret little expedition.
Lightning lit up the night sky, granting a momentary view of everything within the alleyway, and she paused, staring intently at a set of double doors, just barely visible within the shadows that lined the walls. In that briefest moment of light, she had seen a familiar-looking sign. There it was. A triumphant smile caused her lips to pull back across her muzzle as she quickly covered the distance towards the door.
Stopping at the base of the window, she opened her saddlebag and levitated out the solid brass lamp stand that she had discreetly borrowed from the hotel. Nopony would notice it missing, nor would they know what she'd done with it once she returned it to her room. She narrowed her eyes with concentration as she positioned the lamp behind her head, ready to swing.
There was the faintest flicker from the other side. Sweetie Belle climbed up and peered curiously through the window. Despite the rain streaming across its surface, she was able to see two wall oil lamps flickering towards the back of the lobby, where she’d seen the doll of
herself. The case still remained empty. Her eyes widened, she hastily returned the lamp to her saddlebags, raced over to the doors, and knocked as forcefully as she could using the door handles. The left door swung open with a creak at the first knock, and the wind took hold of it to violently slam it against the wall behind, causing the loud echoing thud to be audible over the racket of the storm.
Sweetie hurried on inside, quickly shedding her raincoat and shaking herself free of water before closing the door behind her. The sudden decrease in noise was a blessing as it allowed her to concentrate on her surroundings. Just like she'd seen from the window, the receptionist’s lobby was red, dusty, and empty. The whole room formed a V-shape that funnelled towards another set of double doors, flanked by the now operational wall oil lamps. On the right side of the room sat the lobby desk with an old-fashioned handle bell and a closed door behind it.
Ever since seeing the functioning oil lamps, her mind had been working on the possibilities. That this place wasn't abandoned at all, that she and her sister had come when the museum was closed, and she'd caught the curator or whoever working away in the wee hours of the dawn. She glanced at the door behind the lobby desk and made a beeline for the bell, grabbed it with her mouth and rang it hard. The bell chimed loudly in spite of its aged appearance and sitting down on her haunches, she waited with excited expectation, eyes glued on the door behind the lobby desk. A whole minute ticked by with no response. A frown adorned her features as she rang the bell a second, more forceful time producing the exact same result.
A growl of frustration escaped her teeth as she stood up on all fours and started thrashing the bell back and forth. When it became apparent that nopony was coming, she spat the bell from her mouth and threw her front hooves up in the air in exasperation. She trotted behind the desk to pound her hoof loudly against the door, trying to ignore the irony that she was imitating her sister. The door still didn't open. She briefly entertained the idea of calling out, but if banging your hoof as loudly as you could on a door didn’t get some pony, what were the odds that would work? She placed an ear against the door to listen for the tell-tale sounds of approaching hoof steps. After hearing none, she then attempted to open it with both hooves and magic. The door was stuck fast. Throwing an irate look at it, she turned and trotted back out into the lobby to stand before the double doors.
To the left sat the empty display case that had contained that doll of her. Her head tilted in contemplation as she began to wonder if she'd seen it in the first place. She looked back over at the door behind the lobby desk. If she did manage to attract the attention of whomever owned this place, they would be more than annoyed that she busted in asking for something that didn't exist. She was starting to feel foolish. Her gaze slid back to the doors. Obviously the museum proper lay behind them. She puckered her lips in thought.
It would be a waste of time to have come out here, gotten inside, and then gone straight back home without at least seeing something. She carefully trotted over to the double doors and knocked loudly on them. “Hey! Anypony in there? I'm lost!” It was a lie, but they didn't know that. If she was found, she could just feign ignorance and the worst she'd get would be a scolding. She knocked once more and after getting no response, placed a hoof against the right door and pushed it open ever so gently.
To her relief, it opened without a sound. She placed her head up against the door and peeked inside. More lit oil lamps revealed a red hallway with more posters of old toys lining the walls. She pushed the door all the way open and stuck her head through in order to get
a clearer picture. Although some toys were intended for foals’ much younger than she, there were others for her age. Tin soldiers with faded colours, stuffed teddy bears, wooden cups-and-ball toys, drum sets, chalk boards, rolling hoops and even wooden rocking horses. She carefully trotted inside, allowing the door to swing closed behind her.
Now the sounds of the storm outside were cut off entirely, plunging the world around her into a tranquil calm. At the far end lay another set of double doors. As she started trotting down the hallway towards the other end, she turned her gaze from one poster to the next. No dolls, unless you counted the soldiers.
Having reached the end of the hall, she again tried her forceful knocking, combined with her plea of ignorance just in case. When she received no answer, she pushed open the door a fraction and peeked inside. Toys were everywhere. With a huge grin on her face and without consideration, she flung both of them wide open to audibly strike the walls. She paid the racket no heed as she made her way inside.
The whole room was a compact exhibition gallery with white pillars arranged in a symmetrical pattern around the red-walled, square-shaped room. Along the walls, as well as the pillars were display cases containing the ancient toys she'd seen advertised in the posters in the adjoining hallway. Accompanying them were fact sheets about the items, newspaper ads, and even a few old black-and-white photos of the particular toy that was being showcased. Where there was space on the walls were oil lamps, their flickering yellow and golden flames exposing the entire room for all to see.
Sweetie slowly walked through the room looking from one display to the next, each more intriguing than the last. Stuffed animals like crocodiles, wolves and snakes. Birds that were all colours of the rainbow. A grinning monkey with cymbals that, according to the fact sheet,
still worked with the help of a wind-up key. Walking along the wooden floor, her mind began to shift focus onto the sounds of her hoofsteps on the old oak floorboards. Although they didn't groan or creak with age, her hoofsteps were rather noticeable within the quiet, lifeless gallery. The bravado which had earlier spurred her on now began to gradually drain away with each and every step until she came to a complete stop.
She was still for half a minute before she slowly turned to look behind her. Standing here, one could be forgiven for not knowing there was a furious storm raging just outside. She looked over to her right where a stuffed teddy bear sat behind its glass case. She kept her eyes locked on the black buttons that served as its eyes, the honey blond stitches that formed its mouth and the dark purple bow tie around its neck before turning to face what lay ahead of her.
Not too far away sat another set of double doors. On both sides of them were arrows pointing up, along with the sign, 'Second Floor: A History of Workshops.' She looked to her left. There rested a jack-in-the-box. It wore a blue and red jester’s outfit with a four-belled hat of the same colour scheme. Its face showed a unicorn’s friendly smile, punctuated with a slightly goofy edge by having its tongue hanging out the left side of its mouth.
She turned to look behind her, only to quickly snap back to the jack-in-the-box. Or rather the space just behind it. Beyond the pillar that the toy rested against, she could make out another hallway leading out of the room flanked by oil lamps. It was the white sign with fancy black lettering just below the right lamp that drew her attention. 'A History of Dolls.'
Her hooves were pounding across the floorboards before it even registered as she left the exhibition gallery behind and followed the new hallway down towards another set of double doors. She didn't bother slowing down or even playing it safe as she reached the doors and with both her front hooves, flung them wide open.
Sweetie took a step back and gaped soundlessly. This exhibition room looked like the arena of a circus tent. At the opposite end of the room sat a large blue and gold pipe organ, patiently awaiting its master to play a jaunty tune for the visitors. The centre of the room was crowned by a huge rainbow-crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling with two layers of candles, burning brightly, casting a kaleidoscope of colours all around the circular-shaped room. And ringing the room like layers of a cake were dolls. Earth, Unicorn and Pegasus ponies all decked out in fancy dresses and suits that were representations of the times they were constructed in. The craftsmanship of some of these dolls was amazing, not to mention the intricate detail in their clothing.
Sweetie Belle was unaware that she had walked into the centre of the room, beneath the chandelier until she came to a stop. Breathless, she turned from one spectacular sight to the next before rushing over to one in particular. It was a unicorn mare with a long, plaited-red mane and light blue coat, wearing a fashionable dinner dress that must have been all the rage whenever the doll was made.
Her attention was drawn to another pony above this one. Before she could finish her appraisal, another caught her attention, followed just as swiftly by another. Doll after doll, she turned from one to another, drawn to them by both their detail and beauty. They were magnificent, all of them. She would find one that she believed was the prettiest, before another would catch her eye and she would move on. She must have circled the entire room three times before her brain finally caught up with her. That doll of her.
Returning her focus to the whole point of this little mission, Sweetie Belle scanned the room once more, this time taking care to mentally check off each one, until she had come full circle. It wasn't here. The corners of her mouth began to sag. She'd wasted her time. Getting wet, breaking and entering and for what? Not a Celestia-damned thing.
She sat down on her hindquarters and threw her forelegs up into the air with annoyance and an audible snarl. She wanted to shout at the top of her lungs. To scream out for anypony to just come and tell her something. Anything! Where was everypony? Why was this place all opened up with nopony around? Grunting, she stood up, stormed over to the pipe organ and began randomly slamming her hoof down on the keys. “Hey! Hey! Anypony home?” The seconds ticked by with no rewarding sounds of approaching hoofsteps or concerned voices. The only sounds she heard were those of her breathing.
She slammed the keyboard out of spite as she climbed down and turned her head to the left. There, a doll of a pretty-looking unicorn mare stood in her elegant flowing dress. The smile on her face almost mocking. Sweetie’s right eye twitched with irritation. “Oh shut up,” she muttered at the doll. She moved to walk away, but she had forgotten how close she was to the pipe organ. The instant she raised her leg, she banged her knee painfully against it.
After she managed to calm down, the first thing she saw was that stupid doll. Only now it was though it was laughing at her. Sweetie's eyes narrowed to daggers. “Oh, you think that's funny do you?” Her voice took on an elegant tone as she turned around with a loud “Humph,” swinging her tail purposely about, hitting the doll and knocking it to the floor with a clattering sound that echoed throughout the room. She dramatically placed a hoof to her cheek as she gave a sarcastic shocked expression, followed by a soft sing-song, “Oopsy.” She gave a low giggle as she channelled her sister. “Oh Sweetie Belle, you simply must be more careful with your surroundings.” She lifted her head high as she walked towards the exit, throwing as much of a swagger into each step as possible. “You might inadvertently knock something over.”
The pipe organ blew a long blast like a ship’s horn and Sweetie Belle jumped into the air like Opalescence, screaming. She half-spun as she returned to earth, breathing heavily. Before she could even vocalise her confusion, the ancient machine began to play a merry little marching tune. The keys and pedals depressed themselves while the brass pipes belched forth the notes they played. Sweetie enjoyed the tune despite herself. That is, until she realised that there was no magical aura enveloping the keys or pedals - it couldn’t be a unicorn’s doing.
Sweetie turned all of a sudden and looked to her right. The dolls still stood in formation. She tilted her head in deep concentration. Had they been holding that pose before? Her eyes darted back the other way to a new group. The smiles appeared to contain a lot more excitement than she previously remembered. She could feel a cold perspiration break upon her brow. She felt panic start to well deep within along with the unmistakable urge to leave as quickly as possible.
She started backing away from the machine, only to trip over something and fall backwards with a scream, landing in a tangled heap. “Ow,” she muttered, as she blinked the world into focus from upside down. She blinked in disbelief before righting herself and climbing to all four hooves. She then looked down at the object she'd tripped over.
It was that doll she'd knocked over. Every tendon in her body froze. She stared at the now vacant spot where it had originally fallen. It had moved. Her gaze snapped back to the figurine standing in an upright position on the ground before her. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to say anything, but cold dread was now slowly spreading throughout her body. Her jaw was locked in place and unable to move.
The eyes blinked.
In spite of the organ music, the creak of its wooden frame echoed all around as the head slowly tilted upwards towards her, the mouth now grinning psychotically. As if on cue, a low wooden creaking began to slowly spread around the room. In a panic, Sweetie glanced at the other dolls.
They were all staring directly at her.
Sudden pain shot up Sweetie's leg and she screamed out loud. The doll had bitten her leg fiercely, and splinter-like wooden teeth were digging into her skin. Mad with fear, she bit at the doll desperately and yanked hard. She screamed again in pain as she wrenched the demonic doll from her abused hoof and flung it across the room, sending it crashing into another doll. She looked down at her hoof to see a deep bloody bite mark.
She sat staring frozen at her hooves, when she began to hear something over the pipe organ. Creaking. Much, much louder. Dolls. All marching in step with the music, eyes trained on her, grinning with those splinter-like teeth. Sweetie Belle screamed in terror. For a panic-stricken moment, her hooves scrambled for purchase on the polished wooden floor before she spun around and bolted from the room. The pipe organ played on. The creaking never stopped.
Lathered with sweat and panting hard from fear and her sprint, she burst from the hallway and back into the previous exhibition hall. She skidded on the floor, ploughing right into a pillar with a painful bang. She didn't stay down for long. She scrambled to all four hooves, but just as she was about to take off, she spied something different about the room. All the display cases were empty. Her eyes darted from one case to the next. There wasn’t a single toy to be found. “What the hay...?” she whispered.
From behind a pillar near the exit, there came a loud clanging sound. Sweetie Belle watched with horror as a toy monkey banging cymbals marched out from behind the pillar to stand in front of the exit. From behind another slithered a stuffed snake, while a stuffed wolf poked its head from around a third. All eyes were fixed on her as they grinned, displaying very real and sharp looking teeth. Something moved in her peripheral vision and she turned. The teddy bear stood next to her and for a few seconds, neither moved. The bear then opened its mouth, razor sharp teeth glinting menacingly in the light as it let out a bloodcurdling roar.
She spun around and saw the jack-in-the-box sitting on the ground. It sprung open with a loud mechanical snap as the horridly grinning jester leapt straight at her, its front legs reaching for an unfriendly embrace while it laughed the most maniacally high-pitched laugh she'd ever heard. She just managed to duck at the last second, its hooves brushing the top of her mane as it sailed overhead and collided with the bear.
Chest heaving, she turned back the way she'd come only to see the demonic parade of dolls steadily marching towards her, their mouths opening and closing in synchronised laughter. She spun around desperately. The toy animals were advancing towards her. The jack-in-the-box was still laughing its insidious laugh as it hopped along with the teddy bear close behind. The monkey was now smashing its cymbals with demented vigour and screaming, signalling its pent-up anticipation. And still the creaking - always the creaking.
Backing up, Sweetie hit the wall and to her surprise it gave way just a fraction - It was a set of doors. Her eyes widened with remembrance. Second Floor: A History of Workshops. She pushed hard and the doors were flung open, allowing her to spin around. Sweetie galloped up the stairs and rounded the bend before scrambling up and bursting through another set of doors.
She was in a long hallway. Benches and stools lined the sides, along with shelves containing tools, wood, cloth, paint, buttons and string. The top layer of the shelves was cloaked in darkness and appeared to be holding large knick knacks of sorts. On the right side of the room the occasional window was built into the wall, presenting a distorted view of the world outside due to the heavy rain that lashed the glass. Still, it allowed the light of Luna's moon to provide an adequate form of illumination. She found her eyes drawn to the far end of the hall, where...
Sweetie Belle gasped. There, at the other end atop a work-bench it sat. The doll of her. With a strange detached calm, she took a step towards it, the action barely registering. Her eyes sparkled as she kept them glued upon the toy at the far end of the room. Her reason for this adventure. It looked so pretty. The way the mane was styled and attached to the wooden frame looked so professional that she couldn't help but wonder if magic had been involved. Her heart melted at the warm and welcoming smile the doll had, and she found herself wanting to hug it and shower it with all the love she could muster. In spite of all that had transpired this night, she couldn't quite explain her reasons for wanting to do so. As her eyes remained locked upon its beautiful form, she found that she really didn't care.
Lightning flashed outside casting a strobe effect through the rain-soaked window, distracting Sweetie and that's when she saw it. The darkness had hidden the entire top row of shelves, but the lightning revealed what they held. Dolls. Neatly lined up next to each other, on both sides of the hallway. Unlike the ones she'd seen in the room downstairs, these were full-sized dolls of foals. All of them were dressed up in various clothes from different eras.
Their expressions were what grabbed Sweetie's attention. Sadness. All of them were woefully unhappy. The room was plunged into darkness as the lighting died away, and the little unicorn filly was suddenly aware that she had walked halfway down the hall. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly as her mind went blank with both fear and confusion.
As she turned her vision away from the shelves slowly, she once more saw that doll of her, standing proudly on the work-bench, illuminated by the moon like a beacon. Before her eyes focused completely, she turned her head away sharply, eyes screwed shut. “I'm not looking at you,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
The echo of the doors slamming behind her caused Sweetie Belle to open her eyes. The double doors were closed, with only the light from the oil lamps on the other side outlining them. Through the cracks in the door, she saw the light slowly dim and finally vanish altogether. The doors and the wall melded into the darkness.
As she stood there, shaking, the little filly felt an inexplicable chill gradually spreading throughout the room. Her breathing came in stuttering gasps as she backed away slowly. Standing alone within the darkened hallway, the loud drumming of rain on the windows, which was the only sound within the room proved to be as unnerving as silence.
Across the white rectangles of moonlight filtering through the windows, shadows moved. With stilt-like limbs, they reached for her, deliberate in their slowness, savouring her fear as she felt tears threatening to well up. She couldn't even muster the ability to swallow as
she backed away from the ever-encroaching nightmare.
It flowed past her without so much as a breeze and Sweetie found herself suddenly overcome with relief. She let out two lungfuls of air as again the only sounds she heard were the raindrops on the windows and the occasional crack of thunder. Then lightning once more flashed, illuminating the entire room.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a long shadow again moving towards her. A hoof with a polished wooden feel to it gently touched her shoulder and Sweetie felt her spine stiffen, perspiration breaking out upon her brow. A soundless gust of wind gently caressed her mane.
With desperate abandon, she squeezed her eyes shut as she snapped her head around, twisting her whole body as she reached into her saddlebags with her muzzle and whipped out the brass lamp stand. Moving back the other way, she used the momentum to swing the
lamp with all the force she could muster. The sound of splintering wood pierced the air as the object yielded to her blow.
She dared open one eye just a crack.
The doll with her likeness lay on the floorboards, exposed splinters poking out from the neck. Her blow had completely removed the head. Throughout the room came an ominous rolling sound of wood on wood, and from under a work-bench that lay just to the left of her, the missing head emerged. It paused, its cheerful and playful expression not having changed one bit, before the body rose on all four legs and staggered jerkily over to the head, like a marionette being moved by a puppet’s strings.
It reached down and picked up the head, gently placing it back on the broken stump. Sweetie Belle watched in confused terror as with a cacophony of horrid, sharp, snapping sounds, the head rotated a-hundred-and-eighty degrees and reattached itself before gracing her with that cheerful smile. She looked away in fear, and saw the windows.
The windows!
Abandoning all caution, she flung the brass lamp stand at one with all her strength. It spun end over end before striking the window with an ear-splitting crash, breaking the window into a hundred jagged shards. Howling winds and pelting rain swept through the room. Lightning flashed again, and for just a split second, she saw that stilt-like shadow, looming over the shadow of the doll.
Her galloping hooves reached the window and she hurled herself into the raging storm outside. The rain struck her in the face like needles as she sailed through the empty air. Everything passed by her in slow motion. The raindrops, the adjoining buildings, the alleyway below. Then, like a movie reel being sped up, reality returned to normal and Sweetie Belle plummeted straight down with an echoing yell.
The junk painfully broke her fall. There must have been some kind of wooden storage crate or something, for she hit a flat wooden surface hard, splintering it and momentarily slowing, then switching angles to slam into an old sofa before rolling down stacks of books, causing loose pages to scatter everywhere. She hit the ground hard. She lay there on the floor of the alleyway, gasping for breath, feeling the rain splashing down on her face and the damp coolness of the wet flagstones against her body. There was no longer any thunder, and the wind had died down.
All around her lay shattered fragments of the window, along with loose pages and smatterings of her own blood. She gently lifted her head up off the ground and looked up at the predawn sky above. The clouds had cleared enough to allow the moon to shine through, bathing the alleyway in a beautiful pale light, and she smiled. She then let her head fall back down on the ground as her heart stopped racing and her breathing slowed.
She couldn't believe it. She was still alive! She shifted her gaze to see a neat little path of destruction in the junk just behind that marked the trail she'd taken on the way down. She carefully moved one leg, then the other. Despite the stinging of the splinters, relief washed over her as she realised that she hadn’t broken anything. It took her a full five minutes before she finally managed to stagger to all four hooves, the broken glass tinkling as she rose. Some of it fell off her, while other pieces were stuck in her fur.
Slowly, she looked back up to the window she'd leapt through. The darkened, empty and broken window returned the stare. There was not a trace of anything and aside from the broken window, it looked to all the world as if nothing had happened. She kept her eyes glued to it nonetheless, but when her legs began to tremble, she finally turned away. Nothing leapt out to pounce on her and gobble her up. It was over - finally over. Hanging her head low, Sweetie Belle shuffled away as quickly as she could, leaving the alleyway far behind.
Author's Note
Just a quick note here from me guys, as was pointed out to me by martyrex, the story and its plot is somewhat similar to that of the 2009 short Spanish film Alma. I want it known I had no idea that this even existed and thus I felt it only fair that I acknowledge it because of this. You can view the film through the link below, and go watch it as it's rather good.
Alma (2009)
