Silver Shoes, a middle aged stallion and local silver smith, sat huddled against the door leading into his cabin. Though he had locked the door he still could not feel safe until he had the comforting knowledge of some weight pressed up against the door; somehow expecting that it would do more to keep out that which lurked just beyond the wooden barrier.
Silver pressed his hooves harder against his ears, even as he curled up tighter into himself. The constant sound of light scratching against the wood on the other side, a constant reminder that something was out there. But worse, the scratching seemed a constant thing, as if whatever was out there knew that he was in here. And it seemed intent on torturing him. The scratching would continue in its same monotone of a slow sliding of something sharp against the wood, then pause a moment before starting again. Sometimes the pauses would last for almost a minute before continuing.
This only grew worse with the added motion of something jiggling the door knob, and pushing and pulling lightly on the door. Then another scratch, then a jiggle and finally a shake of the door. Those three simple sounds, over and over again in a pattern that seemed bent on driving Silver mad with fear. He sobbed, wrapping his hooves around his head as his attempts to muffle the noise seemed fruitless.
How, how had this all come to be?
He sobbed, hearing the scratching again.
His mind began to replay events before him, as if in its flickering of mental pictures would help him recall where things had gone wrong. Perhaps in them he might find salvation, or at least an explanation.
Out of all the images that came to mind, his work as a silver smith. His family. His friends. His town. Out of all of this, one image came to mind.
An idol. That damn, terrible idol.
It was small, about the size of a mini watermelon. It was not at all well made. A basic square base, with four curved spikes at the top and curving till the points aimed at the flat base of the idol. The base was decorated with old runes, and images of figures.
When they had found it, everypony had assumed it was some sort of old relic, and news of it spread attracting archeologists from across Equestria. The mine and its surrounding line, soon became a dig for further artifacts. For a week the dig turned up little, save old pottery and some stone figures. One digger said they might have found a tunnel leading into what was assumed to be a complex of some sort.
Of course, no pony was able to find out as on the last day of that week, things began to change.
Slowly, little by little, a fog started to appear in the town. Nothing the weather ponies did, seemed to make it go away. Ponies were concerned, but figured that it was just some wild fog that blew in from the Ever Free. The town was right on its border after all. Ponies assumed that, in time the fog would pass away.
The fog slowly began to grow, hour by hour until it engulfed the entire town in a thick, white, hazy screen. Ponies couldn't see barely a hoof in front of them.
That's when the screaming began.
Silver had been outside with his wife, when they heard the first of the screams. It sounded like a pony was being brutally murdered in the thick fog. Ponies shouted, running and fleeing in the fog despite the difficulty of sight. All the while the screaming kept up, and the sounds of ripping flesh and blood splattering on the ground and walls of the houses.
Silver and his wife did not bother to wonder what was happening. Their instincts for survival kicked in, and they ran as fast as their hooves could carry them to their cabin on the outskirts of town. The Fog seemed to be a constant companion with them. They were just a few feet from their home, when Silver's wife tripped and fell.
Silver turned, ready to go back and run to help his wife.
But any such thoughts faded when he heard her screaming. The sounds of ripping flesh, evident in the air.
Fear took hold, accompanied by sadness. Silver cried even as he ran, part of his mind telling him to go back and help his wife. But a more primal part, telling him to run. He kept running, bursting through the door of his cabin and slamming the door shut and locking it.
And so here he was, locked in his home. Curled up in a ball. Weeping. Crying. Outside, the sound of scratching continuing.
What had caused it? It had to be the idol. It was the only explanation, or that's how it seemed to Silver.
Somehow, it had brought the fog. And with the fog had come....come...
Come what?
Silver sucked in a breath, and peered over to the window, near the door. The outside was white and hazy with the fog. He couldn't see anything, and yet...yet he had to know. He didn't want to know, but he had to know what was out there. He knew something was out there and his curiosity compelled him to look.
Slowly, surely. He crawled over to the window, the scratching at the door never stopping. Slowly, he peeked out the window.
He didn't see anything.
Bam.
Silver leapt back, as a thin, stick like appendage of a claw connected to a long, just as thin limb, planted itself on the window. It was covered in pink, blood covered skin that seemed stretched over the bones. The claw bent, and a head appeared inn sight of the window. Silver began to hyperventilate now, as he stared into a bloody, pink skinned face. It had long, paper thin slit like eyes, and no nose. Its mouth, was thin and had sharp teeth slipping out between where lips should be. It's ears were long and curved, almost bitten and chewed. The head had no neck, just connected to an oval shaped body. The creature, stared at him.
Then it tapped on the glass, before its claw reached out beyond the windows view, to where the door would be. All the while, the creature kept its eyes on Silver. Silver covered his face, trying to hide himself from the creature as he heard it scratch at the door. He pushed himself back against his night stand with his legs, knocking it down and the contents of the drawers falling out.
Silver looked to the spilled items, to the creature in the window and to the door.
Celestia, it knew it was in here. It wanted to get in. With horror, Silver saw what looked like holes beginning to appear in the inside portion of the door, the tips of long thin claws, peeking and poking through as it dragged wood apart. The Fog, slowly beginning to seep through.
Silver began to breath heavily, his heart racing. The thin claw like fingers, flicked at the lock, trying to undo it with what little movement the creature had.
Silver looked around, for any means of escape. There was none of course.
Until his eyes saw it.
It was his gun, an old griffon model he had purchased as a means of self defense. It took a long time to reload, and the ball bullet was not the most accurate, but it was top of the line in the griffon kingdoms.
Silver didn't know if it would work on....whatever it was trying to get in. He had one shot.
That was it. That was the way out.
Silver began to cry and laugh at the same time.
He was dead. He was going to die. Just like his wife had died. Just like everypony in town had died.
He might as well die quickly, then however which way this creature outside would end him.
Slowly, Silver took the gun in his hooves. A smile crept along his face as tears rolled down his eyes.
He placed the gun to his head.
And pulled the trigger.
His body slumped, and the gun fell to the ground with a clatter. He lay there, his blood pooling on the floor.
Eventually, the white hazy fog, seeped fully into the cabin, and two long, thin, claw like hands, gripped Silver's limp body.
And dragged it into the fog.
Author's Note
What do you think?
