Eyes Wide Closed

The video camera sputters to life, the images heavily distorted. Colors invert, time skips and static dances over the screen like snow. A little Pegasus filly with an orange coat and sleepless, haunted eyes sits at an unadorned table, right at the center of the viewfinder. On the table in front of her sits a knife.

She gives jerks every now and again in the fragmented skips of the recording. On the wall behind her rests a particularly terrifying array of drawings, scribbled with by fear-maddened hooves; things best left unseen. Eyeless faces and faceless figures stare at her back from the white, unyielding paper. Messages silently roar for her to run, to hide, that it is always right there, that it will always find her. For several whole minutes, the filly simply stares down at the knife. Slowly, she lifts her head.

"You kn-w," the recorder skips, fragmenting her words between two frames. "Hard as it's to believe, there was a time when I could sm-le and really truly mean it." Briefly the distortion flashes, showing a quick image of the filly wailing in agony, holding her head. In an instant, it's replaced by her somber, emotionless stare. "I was always with my f-iends, always h-ppy, never alone. Now, I don't think anypony even knows I'm a-ive." She was weeping now, shaking her head. A shadow darts over her, though she doesn't seem to notice.

"I can't remember any of it. Not a single thing, not even my name. Sometimes I get little flashes, but... everything I am is on these tapes now." She shifts her hoof, nudging the knife this way and that. "One thing I do remember is that we shouldn't have messed around w-th this. It's not from here and it was never meant to be here. We did this to ourselves, you know. We did t-is to ourselves..." She lowers her face into her hooves, crying uncontrollably, until a distortion wracks the screen. After, she is staring at the camera blankly again. The camera marked a two-minute passage of time.

"I'm leaving this behind because it's all I have left, a me-ory of me that hopefully nop-ny will ever see. Please, don't look for me. If I'm alive, I'd rather be lost than let anypony else suffer. If I'm gone, then leave me where I am and never look back. It's not worth it. Maybe, if I die, it'll stop. Maybe-" - a horrible distortion wracks the screen - "-stop taking them. M-ybe. Maybe." She is silent again, staring at the knife. She takes a deep breath, there is a burst of distortion, and when it calms the knife has vanished. The clock at the bottom of the screen shows that five minutes has passed.

"I can feel it, right now-" her voice is cut out by screaming static, like a foal's crying, played backwards. She puts a hoof on her head, her eyes gaining an immensely haunted look. The noise ends."-hear that voice. That awful voice! I need to. Before it finds me. Before it happens again." The filly lowers her hoof just as the shadow of a pony, seeming impossibly tall, stretches across the wall behind her. The shadow reaching out towards her, as if to grab her. However, the shadow doesn't pass over her, but continues on behind her, impossibly. The camera flashes with sudden static and the shadow is gone. Instead, the filly's hoof is raised, holding the knife to her own throat. A bead of blood gathers at the point, sending a line of crimson down the blade.

"If you find t-is, please stop-" There is another fit of static and the image flashes very briefly to a picture of the woods. Between the trees stands a ghostly-white pony, wearing a black outfit. It is too far away to make anything else out. "-never -appens again." The filly is crying uncontrollably as the video flicks back, blood oozing down the knife. "Celestia, please have mercy on me."

She crams her eyes shut, the pushing the knife in deeper.

"No!" The voice didn't belong to the filly, but it clearly belonged to a much older pony. There is a smashing sound, like splintering wood and the filly jerks the knife away, turning towards the voice and holding the knife in front of her, as if to defend herself. Distortion shreds the audio, making almost every word fragment. "D-n't you da-e! No -riend of mine-" The face of the filly slowly grows more and more terrified, her whole body shaking in fear. "-hers. So put the kni-e down and lets go ho-e!"

"You... I k-ow you! No. No, you c-n't be here! Please, if t-e camera sees y-" Another image dominates the screen amid a brief distortion; the words "HA HA" written in the same maddened style as the drawings on the wall. "-n't be a-ound me! It -omes! Run! Run aw-" The distortion grows worse, worse than ever before. Visual elements break down and the audio becomes a cacophony of screeches and howls; the voices of the eternally damned, crying out from Tartarus.

The shadow returns to the wall, standing head and shoulders over the filly, seeming to stare down at her. There is no sounds, but the fillies eyes suddenly go wide in unnameable horror. The shadow darts to the right, behind her, and she spins suddenly, throwing the knife at something off the screen. She screams silently, the audio completely gone now thanks to the intense distortion. Tears poured down her face and she backed away.

Before she could take more than one step, she is ripped downwards, as if her legs were torn out from under her. The distortion vanishes with her. The screen is still for several seconds, but the sound of terrified, labored breathing could very clearly be heard. From the left side of the table, a Pegasus steps into the scene, her rainbow mane a frazzled mess. She was trembling all over, staring blankly at the place the filly had just stood, as if stupefied.

She turns, spotting the camera, and tears start to roll down her face. "No... No no no..." She leans over the table, staring at something behind the camera. When she leans back, she's openly weeping. "Oh, dear sweet Celestia... What have I done..."