The walls are red today

by Mr Ignorable

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Dark, Sad
Length: 1822

A compilation of short stories depicting different things

(marked others because there will be too many main characters)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-25 08:24:01 UTC

The wooden wolf

(play)

Screwball sat in her cell in miserable silence. There was little light. There was little noise. She was alone with her thoughts.

They were horrid. They were abominable.

Regrets. So many regrets. The biggest however, was having to hand little Dinky over to Ditzy because of her 'mental illness'.

She acted. She would always do something 'crazy'. Because she didn't want to deal with it. She didn't want to deal with life.

She rocked on her bed. Not wanting to go to sleep. Every time she went to sleep.....it always appeared.

It was gruesome.

It was hideous. It was disgusting. She had taken to calling it the wooden wolf.

It plagued her.

She would always see it. Anytime she closed her eyes. She would be transported to a small grotto in a shrouded area. And it would sit there in front of a tree. It had hollow empty eyes.

But it was horrible. There was no noise. The sanctuary was bleak. So...very bleak, black trees chocked the blackened sky and a ceaseless wind tousles the tress sending up miniature dust devils of fallen leaves.

But it would always stare at her. And in the pits of her stomach...no, her soul. She would feel it's piercing gaze. But she would feel something too.

A....self-loathing. A hatred and...resignation. Sadness...always sadness. It always seemed to radiate throughout her being whenever it gazed upon her. It chilled her to  the bone and awakened things hidden so deeply inside the deepest folds of her identity.

It scared her.

It was distorted, abnormal. Bits of wood hung off of it, exposing wood the lightly colored underwood.

It was an abomination. It was disgusting. In the deepest parts of herself. In the folds of her identity she could feel it.

But how? And why? Why did it visit her every night?

She awoke with a start.

Time.

The seconds, the minutes, the hours, they all seemed to meld together and create a destitue prison. Her...custom built hell.

There was no noise.

Nothing stirred.

Reality.

Reality shifted. Sometimes she found herself back in that grotto. The wolf wasn't there though, but she was always alone.

But that feeling of alone.

It felt natural. It felt inbreed, as if some part of her basic animalistic soul had been sated.

No. She wasn't  an animal.

She was a pony, a high minded creature.

As she sat there however, the thought struck her as odd.

Her thoughts. They had become disjointed. Not connected. Seemingly coming out of an abyss.

She lied. That's what all smart ponies did nowadays.

They lied. And they hid themselves, they didn't let the bad parts come out to play. The hurt, the anguish. Of crushed dreams, of cold realizations washing over them like a cold bucket of water. The disgruntled and mad.

But always...the sad.

There was always this deep sadness. Cloying at the bottom of her conscious. It was always there, no matter how hard she tried to get rid of it. It wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away.

But then again, it had always been there.

She sighed deeply. What was this thing and why was it haunting her so much?

"WHY THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?" She screamed. Every night it would come..and simply stare. It wouldn't do anything but stare.

It was a living nightmare. A cell. Reality faded at times..to be replaced by that bleak place.

As it did now. She felt the soft rustling of leaves and the cold wind.

She hid at the corner of her bed. "No...please. No, don't take me back there! PLEASE!" She would call out to anyone. To everyone.

But no one relied.

There was  no one there. No one to hold her, no one to listen to her. No one to truly be beside her.

Except it. The wooden wolf. It sat there now. Staring at her with that eerie eerie stare.

Why did it scare her so much.

"Why?" She called out weakly.

This time however, it moved.

It came closer. Closer, and closer.

Until it was at the foot of her bed.

And like magic, or..demonic possession, she found herself sitting in front of it with no recollection of moving.

She stared deep into it's black eyes. Those deep and destitute eyes.

"...What are you?" She tried again, her voice cracking.

I am the truth

It's voice was deep, demonic to some extent with a double intonation. In it she heard a little colt's voice. And that of a dragon's.

"Wha-wha-ho-how?" Her voice was quaking badly. She felt so cold.

Yet so disgusted. So horrifyingly disgusted.

I am hatred. I am pain. I am sadness. The never ending sadness. I am  the truth.

It replied stoically.

"I don't......."

I am filth. I am self-loathing. I am you. I am everything you fear.

She snapped.

"HOW ARE YOU THE TRUTH?!? YOU ARE NOTHING BUT EVIL! YOU ARE EVIL!" Her voice shattered, a little filly taking it's place.

No. I am the truth speaker. And you are the lier.

That shook her to her core.

I am the aspects of sentience which reside in the deepest part of your mind. Your feeling of small. You are a small ant in the cosmos. You fear and you are sad for you believe you are nothing. You are nothing, but you are something as well. I am the writhing maggots stirring and wriggling in your mind. Your doubts, self-hate. Your lies.

She stood, tears in her eyes.

I am everything you never did for fear of being ostracized. For fear of not fitting in. I am your regrets. And you wish me away. You all wish me away and say that it was your life. But the truth, the truth is you will never get the time you lost. You will never reclaim and you will always miss. Your daughter, your old life, your freedom.

She teared up and began crying like a little filly.

I am the torment of life. I am the bleak future, the hopelessness. The king of those broken. The merciless one who gives you life when all you crave is death. I am you. I am me. I am everyone.

It spoke with no emotion as if this was all fact.

"Stop."

No.

"Why?"

Because you have lied enough.

"But..I was happy. In my own world."

No. You were not.

"Stop."

No.

"Stop."

No.

"STOP IT!"

No.

"STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! LEAVE ME ALONE!" She was crying and screaming. She wished it all to end. The merciless truth.

But she knew.

She knew at the bottom of her heart that it was right. That the bleak and horrible and depressing truth.

But child. Look not upon me and see my black. For I am merely the black truth. Look upon me and see the world you are able to create. For I am the holy liberator. I am the release of the ultimate lie.

She opened her shut eyes, lifting her protective hoof.

"Wha...t?"

I am the Reality. I am the ultimate savior. For reality, law. It is all an illusion.

"What? Are you talking about?"

You know. Deep inside, it is hidden. You know. You build laws in fear of your own nature. But it is your own nature that brings laws down. It is your nature that serves as your tormentor, and your release.

She just sat there. And it did too.

".......What do you mean....life is a....a...a lie? I can...I can see can't I? I can feel can't I? I CAN TASTE CAN'T I?"

You can see me.

She had begun flailing around, her sanity forgotten, shattered in the face of the...this..this thing.

The wind whistled silently.

"....Life is a lie?" She asked cautiously.

Yes. And I can show you the truth.

".....Show me."

======================

"You called nurse?" Doctor Healing Hoof briskly walked into the surveillance center where a grim looking Colgate sat.

"Yes. Doctor. Come and take a look at this." She motioned with her hoof not bothering to look up.

Walking over, he peered from over the nurse's shoulder.

"Whaddya see?" She asked. He sighed.

"It's just Mrs. Ball. She must be having one of her episodes.

He sighed deeply massaging his temple.

On the small T.V. Screwball sat on her bed. The grainy image just depicted her in black and white. Just sitting there.

Colgate turned to Healing Hoof with an expression of pure panic.

"Doc...she's been like that for over 2 hours."

He snapped out of his thoughts with an expression of shock and horror.

"Oh Celestia. Come on now! We don't have much time left. We might need some body guards so call some up and meet me in front of the mental ward in 5 minutes." He brusquely shoved on his lab coat and briskly walked out.

Colgate called over the intercom, asking for bodyguards, medication, and a couple nurses.

When the group got to her door. They all took nervous deep breaths. Screwball was infamous for her....episodes.

As soon as the door was opened, and the ensemble stepped inside however, they noticed something wrong.

The lights were off, and illuminated by the sunlight coming, was the vague silhouette of the owner and sole residential occupant of the room.

Just.

Sitting there.

"Screwball? Sweetie? It's sleepy time! Come on! Be a good girl and take your medication!" Colgate called with fake enthusiasm, signaling two of the guards to come with her. The three of them quietly tip-toed over to the mare. Instantly the two buff ponies jumped onto the patient. Only to be met with...limp...non-resistance.

Unsure, the two of them quickly backed off and stood at opposite ends of the bed.

"What the hay?" Colgate quickly abandoned her stealthy approach and trotted over, checking her vital signs.

Her eyes opened wide.

"Let's see if there's a-" Healing Hoof had been searching for a light switch. Promptly finding one, he switched it on.

And the scene in front of them, was one that chilled them to the very bone.

There was blood, a bloody tale leading from the mare to a spot on the wall.

Screwball herself was gone. Her eyes wide and vacant. Glassed over with the look of the dead. But the most disturbing thing in the room. Was what was painted on the wall.

It was a rough, very rough composite sketch of a forest. It was as if somepony had slashed red paint all over the walls. The trees looked sharp and unsettling. But sitting right in front of the scenery...was the Wolf.

Colgate's eyes slowly scanned the room. "She must have....oh Celestia." It came out as a half whisper.

There was forest everywhere, a grotesque mural painted on all 4 walls, even the treetops stretched to the ceiling.

But finally, Colgate's gaze rested on a single spot behind the mare, hanging just above her head.

REALITY IS A LIE.