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The horse ranch was a decaying husk of its former self resting in pieces under a crimson sky. Soft boot falls betrayed the presence of a wandering person with the crunch of broken glass scattered around the sides of the barn opening. The young girl, no older than twelve, stood at the entrance to a place which should’ve been familiar and welcoming. Instead, she stepped into a cavernous interior with impossible dimensions and twisting architecture of wood. The light failed to reach most of the interior as creeping shadows swallowed them up and stopped them before they could fall and lead the lone girl onto a safer place. Here, there was no such thing as a safer path.
She wanted to speak. Wanted to break the silence. But something in the air pressed down heavy and her lungs were warned not to utter a sound. There was a lurking scent in the air. The pungent odor of hidden rot began to break through the floor boards and the moment she looked down, she felt something might be looking up.
“Firefly?” the girl asked. “Is that you? Where are you?” She knelt down and found a ring. She uncovered the hay on the ground and saw a trap door with worn edges and various faded symbols. Six symbols stood on the door and all were scratched out. She placed her hand over them and felt the marks. Something had carved the symbols out with grave intent, and the amount of slashes across the surface bespoke of a ferocity which drove the mysterious causer to commit such an impassioned act. She reached down and tugged on the entry ring as she attempted to pull it up. It was too heavy. She tried again. No use. She heard movement below and wondered what await her in the barn basement. Still, she had to try once more.
Arms reached down from behind her and placed themselves on the ring over her own hands. “Don’t be afraid,” a voice said from behind. The door was lifted merely a few inches. A pair of yellow eyes shone in the darkness below.
Megan Williams woke up with a start. In a snap reaction, she reached out near the side of her bed, pulled up a shotgun and held it across her chest. She looked around the room with a panting panic as though she had run a mile. It was still dark outside but the sun was starting to appear on the horizon ever so slightly. She controlled her breathing and grabbed an asthma inhaler off the nightstand. She put it up to her mouth and sprayed as she inhaled and felt the medicine work its way into her system. She settled down almost immediately and looked outside at the barn.
“No,” she said as she turned back to the interior of the room. “I’m not opening it today.” She stood up, grabbed a flashlight and pointed it down the hallway. It was still early. She didn’t have to start her daily chores right now, but she wouldn’t dare go back to sleep. She took a shower, ate breakfast, read the newspaper and did everything she could to get her mind off the dream she had. She eyed the local events column and saw what was happening in the nearby cities.
There was the upcoming 2004 Horse Race and Charity Showcase, but Megan had stopped taking care of horses almost a decade before. She eyed the article longingly and sighed. Her hand trailed to a heart pendant on her neck. She flipped it open and looked at a picture of her and a small pony before closing it again. “Maybe one day again,” she said to no one. The house appeared to creak back in response and Megan felt herself tense up for almost a full minute before she calmed down and continued reading.
Today, no matter how much she pushed herself, she just couldn’t seem to get her chores down. The cows were restless. Megan could not calm their anxiety no matter how much she talked to them. Dogs barked at shadows at the edge of the woods. Megan kept a rifle close and eyed the shadows through the scope. The four legged creatures seemed like they might be wild dogs. Maybe. And because her mind was elsewhere, Megan spilled an entire ten pound bag of chicken feed far before she made it anywhere close to the chicken coop. The chickens did not mind and feasted mightily where the food lay. There was another bag in the barn.
Megan had walked halfway to the barn when she stopped and realized where she was going. She eyed the closed doors and the chains tied around the outer handles. Saw the attic window with its boarded up edges. Saw the side door with a heavy load of firewood piled up against it. She turned to step away and thought she would go to town for extra supplies today.
The Bonnieville Library was Megan’s favorite place in the entire town. It was quiet, few people ever went there, and she could read all the fantasy books she wanted. There were computers too, but she wasn’t a fan of using them, even though many of the other patrons had started to ignore the books in favor or online forums and games. As long as they didn’t talk to Megan, she had nothing to say to them.
The librarian knew her well. The two chatted about various small things, but even then, Megan was quick to get the books she wanted. She went to the fantasy section and pulled out some titles as she whispered to herself.
“Ohh Acorna the Unicorn Girl. I love this series...” She had often imagined what it would be like to be half-unicorn, half human and had smiled at the thought. Another thought began to encroach on the pleasant one and she pushed it away, looking at the book cover. “How would I walk with hooves like that?” Megan asked, noticing that the unicorn girl had foot hooves but a mostly human body. She occupied her mind with trivialities until the unpleasant thought passed by, unable to disturb her if she didn’t look directly at it.
She saw several other Acorna books in sequence after the first one and decided to check them all out. She could read them in her most anxious moments and feel a certain happiness from the fiction as it soothed her mind. She had written her own stories, dozens of them over the years, but never shared them with anyone. Sometimes she was human. Sometimes she was more. She pulled down the next three books in the series and stopped in mid-reach for the fourth one when she caught sight of something beyond the case in the next aisle.
She saw the back of someone’s head. Normally this would not be an issue. But this person was standing upright and not moving. Something about their posture made her very nervous. She wanted to say something to check on them. She slowly moved away and walked around the corner, peering into the next aisle.
A young man looked down at a book in his hands, nearly unmoving, as his eyes scanned the page. He finally turned it to a new section as he looked up at Megan who ducked back into the previous aisle, and the next one after that, and after that, until she was on the far opposite end of the library where the awkward situation would resolve itself naturally.
She stopped near the research tables when she saw several newspapers scattered about. Megan had taken ownership of the library since she was a frequent patron and felt it her duty to keep things tidy. She started to gather up the newspapers when an article caught her eye:
TWO CHILDREN MISSING, PARENTS SUSPECT KIDNAPPING
It was a tragic story, no doubt, with a title like. Still, there was nothing particularly stand-out about the title concerning Megan’s own life. She felt sorry for the kids, and yet...something nagged at the back of her mind. She quickly scanned the article and found that the two kids had gone missing under similar circumstances. Both were last seen in their homes. There was no sign of forced entry and strangely enough, no sign of exit. The children appeared to have disappeared into thin air.
“Horrible, isn’t it?” the librarian whispered to Megan from behind, causing her to jump. “Sorry my dear. Didn’t know you were so jumpy today.” The kind older woman with the bespeckled expression and bony form looked at Megan with concern.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Zacherle,” Megan said as she put the paper down. “I was just thinking...about the article.”
“Did you hear about the clues the kids left before they were taken?”
Megan looked through the article as she spoke. “I don’t see anything here about clues...what do you mean?”
“It’s an older article about three different children from last month. Had the same situation. No sign of a break-in. No suspects,” Zacherle said.
Megan looked up, now incredibly interested. “Five kids in two months with the same scenario?”
“Yes ma’am,” Zacherle said. Her voice quivered with the strain of age and fatigue. “And the clues are really strange. Two of the three kids talked to their parents about wanting to go somewhere. Some strange hooey about wishing to visit an imaginative place that they always wanted to go to. I don’t know. Here, let me show it to you.”
It took an agonizing fifteen minutes for Zacherle to finish with customers and finally get the newspaper hardcopies she had. Apparently, the library had not heard of photo archiving anything. Megan sat down and read while the librarian attended to her duties. The mother of one of the kids had a very distraught interview, even on paper, which went into greater detail:
My little Laura kept telling me she was going to meet the Princess. I thought she was playing a game, but I think whoever took her was promising her these...these things so she’d agree to go. She said she wished for it and it came true and she had to prepare. I thought it was a game! My little Laura always played games. Why didn’t I listen…
“Princess...” Megan said. The wording made her very nervous. It couldn’t be, she thought. No…
She pulled out another article the librarian had given her. The story was very similar. A little girl had been told by someone she didn’t name that she could see a Princess in a beautiful castle if she only asked for it. A night after she asked, she was gone. And the house had no sign of break-in or any note left by a kidnapper. Something was missing. Some key detail. Princess...Princess who? Princess what? Megan thought. She looked back at the article to see if she’d missed anything when her eye stopped on the included photograph. The photojournalist had taken a picture of the two parents talking to investigators in the child’s room. In the background was a large group of pictures. The photo quality wasn’t very good, but there was something strange about the images the little girl drew. Megan looked down at the end of the article.
If you want to learn more about this case, visit the official newspaper website at…
Megan went over to a computer and checked the website. She looked up the article by name and found the same image on their page, only it was in color and much higher quality. She zoomed in to the background and saw several images with names written slightly off. Megan could still read them.
“Princess...Twilight?” she said. “They can’t possibly mean...” She examined the images on the wall and found one with a purple pony wearing a crown as it stood at the end of a rainbow. “No that...that’s not right.”
“Shhh!” Someone said next to her. She stopped talking aloud and printed out the images and online article, along with anything else she could find. She quickly left the library and drove home.
At her ranch, Megan nearly kicked herself when she realized she had forgotten to buy chicken feed to replace the bag she spilled. It was nearly dark and she still had some chores to do. Going back to town would eat up the rest of the time. She left the printouts from the library in her truck and stared at the barn.
She took out her inhaler and took two breaths before pocketing it again and walking up to the chained front door. “Just...just get the feed and get out.” She started to undo the chain when she heard movement inside. She stopped, then quickly re-wrapped the chain and stood back. She heard no more movement. The top window was still completely boarded up with no point of entry and the side door was still completely blocked by firewood.
Megan went back to her truck, pulled out her shotgun, got her flashlight, and taped the flashlight to the bottom of the gun barrel. She turned it on, loaded the gun with three shells and cocked it. Then she grabbed her sheathed bowie knife, strapped it to her belt, and walked back to the front of the barn, confident she could now take-on anything that was behind those doors.
She looked at the sun as it started to lower on the horizon. She didn’t have a lot of time to finish her daily routine and it would make the next day a lot harder if she didn’t get it done soon. With her shotgun lowered in one arm, she used her free hand to slowly unwrap the chain until both ends swung freely, now leaving the door free to open. Megan steadied the shotgun with one arm as she grabbed the handle and pulled. It slowly creaked open as she put both hands on the gun and pointed the barrel towards the interior of the darkened barn. The beam illuminated the inside, shining upon the ground covered in hay and shimmering bits of something else. The door finally opened all the way and Megan waited. She sweeped the light back and forth across the interior, and then up into the rafters above and into the attic area. Nothing moved.
Megan wanted to say something. Wanted to break the silence. But something in the air pressed down heavy and her lungs were warned not to utter a sound. There was a lurking scent in the air. The pungent odor of hidden rot began to break through the floor boards and the moment she looked down, she felt something might be looking up.
She aimed the gun at every corner until a gust of wind pushed the door closed, cutting her off from the outside light. She gasped and felt her heart rate accelerate quickly as she moved to the door and pressed her back against it. She pushed on its surface, but it wouldn’t budge. She placed a boot against it and kicked. The sound was loud and uncomfortable. Dust fell from the rafters and Megan pointed the light up. Something stared down at her with large, shining eyes.
“AH!” Megan yelled as she fired a shotgun blast into the ceiling. The thing fell down and into a stack of hay. A rain of dust poured down from above. Red stained the yellow as Megan pointed her light down at the thing. She felt her heart drop when she realized she’d killed a barn owl.
“Dammit,” she said. She walked over to the front door and pushed on it as she moved outward. She closed the door on the outside, chained it closed and walked back to the house. “Poor little thing,” she said to herself. “I’m so sorry little one.” She got some gloves from her ranch house, then grabbed a trash bag and shovel. She moved back to the barn to prepare to bury the poor creature. She undid the chain, held the shotgun lazily in her arms and opened the door. She pointed the light back the spot where the owl had fallen. And kept looking.
Where is it? She thought. She saw the red trail down from the hay stack and into the floor. The line of blood moved across the ground and stopped at a point in the center of the room. There was no owl there. Where did it go?
Megan put down the shovel and small items and slowly approached the spot with her shotgun pointed at the blood trail. She kicked away the excess hay with her boot. She knelt down and found a ring. She uncovered the hay on the ground and saw a trap door with worn edges and various faded symbols. This is very familiar..., Megan thought. Six symbols stood on the door and all were scratched out. She placed her hand over them and felt the marks. Something isn’t right... Something had carved the symbols out with grave intent, and the amount of slashes across the surface bespoke of a ferocity which drove the mysterious causer to commit such an impassioned act. It can’t be... She reached down and tugged on the entry ring as she attempted to pull it up. It was too heavy. She tried again. No use. She heard movement below and wondered what awaited her in the barn basement. Until she realized she didn't have a basement in her barn.
In one fluid act, Megan stood up and spun around with her gun pointed towards the entryway. The dying light of the day poured into the area. She waited. She moved her light around the barn interior. Where are you? She thought as she moved wildly, searching every corner. I know you’re here! You were here last night! In the dream! SOMEONE came up behind me and put their arms around me! She pivoted in place wildly. Then she stopped.
A crazy thought came into her head. Something about the article she had read. The kids had wished for...what? It couldn’t work. Couldn’t possibly make a difference. The disappearances had to be caused by human kidnappers. Nothing else. But part of her wanted to believe there was still some strangeness left. That if she tried what they did just once, maybe, just maybe, it could happen for her too. And maybe those kids were okay and would return. Like she had all those years ago. But why now, in this darkened barn that haunted her dreams? Perhaps...that was the reason itself. The dream. Maybe, in a way, somebody was putting their arms around her within her own mind, telling her “Don’t be afraid.”
She stared down at the plate in the floor. She definitely did not have a basement. That much was true. So what was this? And why was it here? She turned back to the front door. Still no one.
She cocked her shotgun, preparing a shell and manually loaded another.
Gotta be ready. Always ready, she thought. Then another fearful thought entered her mind. In the dream, there were yellow eyes staring at her from underneath the floor. If she opened the trapdoor, would those eyes be there? And yet, the owl had yellow eyes. Maybe her mind had thought the owl was the threat in the barn, and that was true. Kinda. It didn’t really provide a threat at all. But...it’s body was still missing. And the trail lead to the lip of the floor opening. An opening she could not move herself. Yet the owl had found its way underneath. Or...no...no there couldn’t possibly be…
“Hey,” Megan said staring down at the trapdoor. The word was half-hearted and fearful. She tried again with more force. “HEY!” It was better to her ears. “I know you’re down there! Maybe you’re a drifter or an intruder or whatever-the-hell you are. I’m armed and I own this property. So if you want out without any questions asked, you show yourself now. Otherwise, I’ll come in there and get you myself.”
There was a wild skittering below. Megan’s breathing stopped. Her mouth hung open. “Oh..okay,” she said to herself. “So it’s...a scavenger. Some little animal.” She didn’t believe herself for a second. She moved over to the trapdoor and grabbed the handle with one hand. It was no use. It was far too heavy. She put the shotgun down, the light pointed away towards an uninteresting corner of the barn, as she clamped both hands down on the trapdoor with nothing but encroaching darkness filling the entrance behind her. She turned and saw the sun almost touching the horizon. She looked back at the ground. She pulled. There was a crack as it lifted up just enough for musty air to come from below. But it still too dark to look without a light. Megan slowly stood up and lifted the cover to its apex. It stayed upright and perfectly still. Nothing glowed in the basement that shouldn’t exist. She picked up her shotgun, with the light pointed at the ceiling. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. She pointed the gun down as the flashlight cast itself over the opening.
She saw the ladder trailing down into darkness. Her light reflected off its dusty form. She turned the light and stepped around the opening. Megan furrowed her brow and moved around again. No matter how hard she tried, she could not see a bottom. Her heart began to race. This can’t be, she thought. This doesn’t make any sense. She put the safety on her shotgun and hung it around her back thanks to the leather strap. She picked up a small stray piece of wood in the barn, held it over the opening, and released it. The wood fell quietly into the abyss below. Megan waited. And waited. She looked around the room and then back down with the tiniest bit of light coming in from the entryway of the barn. It had been at least a full minute and the wood had not made a sound. That’s impossible, she thought.
She could tell someone. She could close the trapdoor, walk out right now and leave. Then come back with an entire investigative team who could figure out the strangeness for themselves.
I’m going to do that, Megan said to herself. She walked back to the entryway of the barn. The door slammed shut from the wind. Megan nearly yelped in surprise, but she calmed herself down and pushed on the door like last time. She kept pushing. It didn’t budge. She started to kick the door but it did not move an inch.
She pushed with all of her strength and caught herself listening to the outside. The chain couldn’t possibly be moving on its own, could it? The door had just slammed by the wind. Of course it could, swinging slowly on the outside. But her mind went into overdrive. It sounded like the chain was tightening.
“HEY!” Megan said as she shook the door. “Is someone there?” she pounded on the door. “This isn’t funny!” She listened. There was no sound. “Look just...take what you want from the house. Just let me out!” There was no more sound outside. No even wind.
Megan felt her breathing increase in intensity. She pulled out her inhaler, puffed it twice into her mouth and then put it away. She pulled out her shotgun and pointed the light at the rafters. To her surprise, she saw metal plating bolted against the top window and the side door. From the inside.
“Wha...” she said to herself. She walked over to the side door and tried to pull the metal plate off. It was stuck in place perfectly, and when she thought she had made some leeway, it felt as though a powerful force was pushing it back into place.
Shoot off the wooden sides, Megan thought. She pulled out her shotgun and pointed it at the side of the room, until the light fell upon a break in the wooden siding. Something reflected back. Megan approached the breach and stared. She placed her hand on the surface beyond the broken wooden wall.
This is...this is metal. Solid metal, she said as she stepped back. What is happening? Megan couldn’t believe it. She didn’t remember ever putting reinforced metal plates on the exterior of the barn. No, Megan thought. I’m imagining this. My doctor said this happens sometimes. The world doesn’t make sense because my imagination takes over...just like they said all those years ago… She stood back and kicked at the metal plating. It made a loud, deep sound, but her repeated kicking of the wall yielded no results.
I’m in a nightmare, Megan thought. She pointed the gun back at the opening in the floor as the light shone upon the trapdoor. No sound issued from below. Dammit, Megan thought.
She walked around the room and found everything she thought could be useful. An oil lamp still hung on a support beam with some fuel left in it. She looped the handle of the lantern through her belt and let it hang down, currently turned off. She found some matches next to where the oil lantern was and pocketed the tiny case. She tied a lasso she found to the side of her belt. Megan found a large mechanic’s wrench hanging on the wall. It was rusted, but it would do. She placed it heavy-side down in her hip pocket and noticed half of it stuck out. She put the working gloves in her back pocket, folded up the bag and pocketed it as well. She looked at the shovel then at her rather impressive assortment of items. She put the shovel pole end down between her outer jacket and her inner shirt as she buttoned her jacket closed, sealing it in place. The head of the shovel hovered above her own, forming a makeshift shield for the back of her head.
She tapped the side of her pocket as she thought about how else to prepare. She felt the small book of matches and nodded to herself. Megan walked over to several bails of hay and launched them down into the abyss below. She dropped five bails before before she thought it was enough. She stared at the open portal to the underworld below as the flashlight beam bounced off the metal from the ring used to pull it open. I bet that thing will close when I go down, she thought. I know how nightmares work. She found a heavy chain in the tool area and looped the chain through the metal ring and behind a support pillar, where she locked it into place with a lock she had with the tools. She pocketed the key.
Megan stepped over to the hole and pointed the flashlight down below. She wanted to preserve power, but she couldn’t risk climbing in the dark. She kept the shotgun strapped behind her, pointed down into the ladder below her, which was very difficult considering she now had a shovel sticking down the back of her jacket. She carefully crawled to the edge of the hole into the abyss, pulled her foot down into the opening and found the first rung. She breathed a sigh of relief, worried that the ladder would completely disappear beneath her. The idea froze her in her tracks.
What if I’m wrong, she thought. What if this is all a hallucination and I could walk out her right now. What if this is just...a hole in the ground and I’m about to fall? She was thinking too hard. She tapped the ladder rung with her foot and it made a solid sound. This feels real. It has to be, even if it doesn’t make sense. Equestria was real back then. It has to be real now. But...this can’t be Equestria. Where am I going?
She felt nervous hanging so close to the edge. It was now or never. She slowly moved down until she could hold on to the lip of the opening with her hands. She clasped the bottom rungs with her legs in case she slipped and then grasped the topmost handle with her hands. She breathed a sigh of relief and started her trek down the ladder.
This has to be a dream, she thought.
There is no way this could be real.
I’ve had so many problems.
My doctor told me I would have trouble discerning reality from fantasy, but…
he didn’t believe me when I talked about Equestria.
I know it’s real.
It has to be.
I have Firefly’s picture in my pendant with me.
That’s not a trick.
I don’t care if people don’t believe me.
I’ve lived two decades alone.
I’ve lost relationships.
I’ve lost friends.
I’ve lost so many things…
Just because I wouldn’t give up.
Well today this is proof that something more exists.
I don’t know where I’m going,
but I know it’s the proof I need to show everyone
that I’m not crazy.
I was so happy…
Why did I have to leave?
Of course…
My parents.
They were afraid for me.
I had been gone for so long
they thought something horrible had happened to me.
I was so sorry
but they didn’t believe where I had been
even after I showed them the picture.
Their fear over-rid their logic.
The first psychiatrist visit was the worst.
I tried so hard to get them to believe me
but no matter how much I tried,
it just seemed to make things worse.
“You can’t distinguish fantasy from reality,” he said.
“You created a whole world,
because you can’t face this one.”
I didn’t have to create a world to run away from this place.
It was already there.
Applejack…
Twilight Sparkle…
Firefly…
If you’re here somewhere,
I’m going to find you.
And then,
finally,
we’ll be happy again.
I’ll be happy again.
Wait a minute...
How long have I been going downwards?
It has to have been five minutes by now.
There’s no way this can exist.
I should have reached the bottom by now.
Megan stopped. She looked down at the ladder below her. She could see...something far down. The light reached just far enough to reveal a landing about fifty feet below her. She felt relief overtake her. She heard a tinking sound, like something hitting metal. It didn’t make sense. She looked around and the sound was clearly coming from above her. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink Tink. Tink Tink. It was slowly accelerating its pace. No, something couldn’t possibly be moving up there on the ladder. She looked down and quickened her pace.
This can’t be happening.
Is something really after me?
Or am I imagining it?
It’s moving so fast.
I can’t keep up with it.
I can hear it...
closer now.
I can’t let it catch me!
Not before I get to Equestria.
Is that…
Is that breathing?
It’s stalking me!
I have to hurry!
Move
Move
MOVE
NOW
IT’S SO CLOSE
THE BOTTOM
Megan was two rungs away from the bottom when she jumped onto the ground and landed. She rolled over. Her copious amount of items jangled and stopped her movement as she stared up. She pulled the shotgun over her shoulder and pointed the light at the ladder. And waited.
There was no sound from the ladder above her.
Did...did I imagine it? Was my own movement shaking the ladder farther up the top? She blinked and pulled herself up to her feet. She looked down at the ground. At the bottom of the ladder was the same trapdoor design that she had entered through, only there was no ring. The six symbols mirrored the ones above, except they were in pristine shape with no scratches at all. She examined them closely and recognized them from...somewhere far off in her mind. She stood up and started walking around with the flashlight shining the path in front of her. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw the bails of hay she had thrown, as most of them had collapsed upon impact into small piles. She made note of them for later and kept walking. The floor was made of wood and creaked with each step. She pointed her light upwards and stopped.
No, she said. I just came from here!
The barn looked exactly the same. For all Megan knew, it was the same. Every beam, every corner, every mark in the wall and the floor. Besides the fact that it was barren of items, it was exactly as she left it. She saw the front door and walked up to it. She reached out her hand.
It opened.
It moved slowly back and forth, slightly ajar, as the wind pushed it around. Megan reached out and pushed it aside with her hand. The creek of the old hinges ground on her nerves as she stepped over the threshold and into the night.
There were no stars. There was no moon. And yet, somehow, light pervaded the atmosphere. A very subtle crimson glow filled the air. It was as if blood has been sprayed into the environment and every droplet cast its own fleeting glow, always on the verge of snuffing out. About twenty feet ahead, the dark shapes of trees in lines spanned deep into a field. They held no leaves and their branches twisted into claw-like shapes with rotten fruit in their grasps. The ground was littered with decaying cores. Megan knelt down and examined one. It had been eaten. They all had. And the remains were left to rot.
Megan’s mind failed to comprehend what she was seeing as she walked forward in near silence with only the sound of her own footfalls to keep her company. The slow rhythm of her movement was like a persistent heart beat, quiet and cautious, with each step more tense than the last. What was this place and why was it so unsettling? She had seen crops struck with famine before. And yet, none had been cast in this eternal glow of crimson anxiety which filled her heart now.
She trained her flashlight on the area in front of her and walked forward with the gun held at the ready. She took the safety off and stared around behind every tree. She passed a small overturned wooden cart with barrels of apples all eaten to their cores in front of them. Then she heard it. It was unmistakable.
Something was moving out in the orchard.
Megan turned her flashlight towards the sound. Something walked behind a tree. It wasn’t even paying attention to her. She saw it walk out from the opposite end and sniff down at something in the grass.
Oh, she thought to herself. It’s just a small horse. She stared a little longer as it walked across her field of view. It’s body was gray, almost silver in its slick sheen. It had proportions which seemed a little off for a normal horse. As it moved closer while sniffing the ground, she saw that it’s hooves were scratched and cut up. The tail hair was nearly gone and there was no mane to speak of. The ears twitched this way and that as it scanned the ground with its nose for something. Megan could barely make out shadows around the eyes as it turned away and headed in the opposite directly very slowly, all while keeping its mouth close to the ground.
She felt sorry for the poor animal, lost alone in a horrid environment. It was probably scared and searching for any food it could scavenge. She stared up at the nearby tree. The apples were mostly rotten. She found one that looked...acceptable. It still had some solid skin. The horse could make use of it, no doubt. She clicked the safety on her gun and put it back over her shoulder as she pulled out the shovel. She poked the apple on its branch until it fell to the ground. Megan moved to pick it up when she saw the pony heading towards the apple. She smiled at its familiar equine form in the red low-light as it sniffed around for the fallen morsel. Megan kicked it closer to the horse and saw its ears perk at the sound. Its head followed the roll of the apple, but the ears seemed more attentive than the eyes. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed the eyes were extremely hard to see in the low light, almost as if they were two black shadows that the crimson glow couldn’t penetrate. Megan wanted to see, so she leaned the shovel against the nearby tree and slowly pulled the shotgun off her shoulder again. She didn’t want her movement to spook the creature. She waited until it started to eat so she could turn the light back on.
It was odd, though. In the low red light, she could see the apple at least a good two feet away from the pony’s snout. It sniffed and she heard something...slither until the apple started to move towards the pony’s teeth and into its mouth. It bit down and ate heartily, but the jaw wasn’t right. It moved around too much and the teeth seemed dislocated. There was a growing tension in Megan’s chest. She pulled out her inhaler and took one puff. And stopped.
As soon as the inhaler made a noise, the pony’s ears shot up. It picked up its head and stared straight at her, only three feet away.
With a dead-on stare now, Megan could clearly see, even in the low-light, that something was very wrong. She couldn’t see any eyes reflect back. There was nothing in those hollow cavities. The eyes were gone. But the ears moved wildly, searching. She looked at her inhaler. And dropped it. She nearly gasped but caught herself as the creature stared down were the inhaler hit the ground. It moved to sniff the area. Megan saw what was going to happen and knelt down. She grasped the inhaler first while it was still a good two feet away. But something slimy touched her hand and she gasped as she stepped back in shock.
The ears of the pony shot up again, but this time, a raspy moan filled the air. Megan held the inhaler in one hand and the shotgun in the other. The flashlight was not on. The pony started to move towards Megan slowly and with grave intent. It couldn’t see, but the eyeless stare in the crimson glow caught her attention and held it. Megan felt her chest start to heave as she tried not to make noise. She moved the gun to her other hand and, while still grasping the inhaler, clicked on the flashlight. She pointed it at the pony.
NO!
It...it’s not possible. What am I looking at? This thing...this isn’t a pony. The light doesn’t even penetrate the darkness in the eye sockets! It’s staring and it sees nothing. Those ears are moving. It’s searching for me. I can’t...I can’t breathe…
Megan started to gasp for air as the pony’s mouth began to open. And kept opening further and further as the jaw unhinged like a snake with dripping fangs on top and bottom. A whip-like tongue hung out between the teeth with ends flailing towards its prey. Bits of previous feasts clung to the sides of the teeth. There were bones caught between them.
As a reflex, she dropped the inhaler as she held on to the shotgun with two hands.
I...I can’t shoot it. After all this time, the first thing I see and...I can’t shoot it…
The tongue grasped forward and snagged the edge of the shotgun. It’s pull was so strong Megan yanked forward a few feet as the gun flew into its mouth and out of her grasp. The taste repulsed the creature as it spit out the weapon onto the ground and immediately started listening again. Megan’s breathing was becoming loud and it knew. It charged at the sound. Megan side-stepped behind a tree and watched its whip-tongue snatch at the air where she had been standing only seconds before. Her panicked breathing did not stop. She couldn’t calm it without her inhaler. And it was somewhere on the ground, in the dark.
The creature turned back and growled. The teeth were visible in the low light and glinted like daggers. The eyes were empty and merciless.
Megan turned and ran. It followed.
She darted behind trees and felt her lungs betraying her every move. No matter how quiet her steps were, she couldn’t stop gasping. The thing moved behind and when she turned to see it, it wasn’t running. The legs were popping and locking, as though they were breaking with each movement, snapping and contorting and never ceasing to move no matter how vicious their own actions. It was like watching a doll come to life, forcing its body to move in inhuman and unnatural ways. The maw moaned in gurgling anger.
Megan kept running and her breathing worsened. She stood behind a tree and saw its snapping movement as she turned back.
Calm down calm down calm down breath Megan BREATH and calm down it’s coming stop making noise or it’ll find you calm down calm down
She heard it’s motions nearby. It heard her and she moved to the next tree. It moved towards the first one and then started tracking her again when her breathing started upon once more. She fought back tears.
No stay away please leave me alone come on calm down why won’t this thing stop I can’t I can’t I CAN’T I need my inhaler or this will never stop
She peered into the distance. A small beam of light was illuminating a fallen apple cart about a hundred feet away.
THAT’S IT
Megan bolted past the tree.
Something wrapped itself around her right arm.
She panicked and saw the creature peering from behind a tree. It’s whip-tongue grasped her arm and squeezed, causing her to cry out in agony. The thing gurgled in anticipation and anger. She couldn’t help but look at the dark eye sockets as the maw opened so wide she thought it would engulf her whole body.
NO NO she fell to the ground STOP and fought to keep it back PLEASE but the creature moved forward and HELP ME tugged with all its might SOMEBODY PLEASE Megan grasped the nearest tree and held on ARGH but the pain of her twisting arm caused her to let go THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING She looked down and saw the bowie knife in the sheath on her hip I CAN’T DIE She grasped it and frantically unbuttoned the clasp NO NO and pulled the knife out of its sheath as her boot touched the hoof of the beast NO It brought her left arm up to its mouth.
She slashed the large Bowie knife across the tongue, severing the organ as Megan fell back to the ground with the useless tongue now sprawled out amongst the rotting apples. The creature howled in pain so loudly it echoed into the night. Blood sprayed out of its wounded mouth as it howled in fury. Megan got up and ran towards the light tied to her shotgun. She bolted past the trees and came to a halt in front of the gun. She sheathed her knife, picked up the shotgun and swung it around on the ground nearby. A small glint of white caught her attention. She picked up her inhaler and stared around. She saw the beast wobbling through the tree line, making its way toward her frantic gasping only ten yards away. She puffed the medicine into her lungs and pocketed the inhaler as she moved behind a tree. Her breathing began to calm down as the creature turned to search for her only yards away. She moved behind the fallen apple cart and felt her breathing under control once again. She kicked over the cart as its noisy fall clattered in front of the beast. It stopped and charged the cart, slamming its maw down on the wood and severing it instantly. It spit out the material and turned its ears around, desperate. It’s mouth was gushing blood, covering the bottom of its maw in a sticky ichor that absorbed all light. Megan pointed her flashlight at it. It didn’t react and began searching as she breathed steadily and quietly. It walked forward, its ears picking up the sound. She lowered her breathing and kept the gun pointed at it. It moved a little closer, its head popping with unearthly snaps as its joints forced themselves into an unceasingly movement of pain. It moaned in fury as the hiss of its mouth spewed blood onto the ground. Megan steeled herself as it stepped only feet away with mouth open. The light projected right into its colossal jaws but Megan’s anger at the beast was enough to overcome her fear.
“Here,” she whispered quietly.
It turned it’s head in her direction with mouth open.
She stuck the gun in its maw and the light disappeared into the back of its throat.
She pulled the trigger.
A fountain of gore and white light erupted into the crimson night. Its jaw blew apart as the brain exploded outward and into the sky. The shotgun blast tore through the upper torso, ripping apart tendons, bone and organs as they sprayed across the fallen apple cart and every nearby tree behind the beast. It’s body snapped once at the fatal trauma as the explosion of skin, bone and tissue silenced the creature’s moans forever.
The body of the beast collapsed to the ground and it moved no more.
Megan stepped back and put herself against the tree as she felt her breathing return to normal. She cocked the shotgun and loaded another round. Tears issued from her eyes as she slid down to the bottom of the tree trunk and started bawling, the shotgun held in front of her.
There was a massive howl of fury at the edge of the orchard. Then another. And another. Until howls erupted from all sides. Megan stood up, eyes alert and scanning. She shook her head, grabbed the shovel from the nearby tree and placed it behind her underneath her jacket, back in its rightful position. She looked around the area, picked a direction, and ran. The howls followed.
Author's Note
Megan’s inventory as of the end of this chapter:
- One Asthma inhaler with some medicine left
- Regular Rancher’s attire and boots (including a belt and outer leather jacket)
- Remington 12-gauge Shotgun with 3 shells (one in the chamber, 1 in reserve, no extras)
- Bowie knife in sheath on hip strapped onto belt
- Rope Lasso 25 feet in length tied to belt
- Flashlight duct-taped to the bottom end of the shotgun barrel, with somewhat-used batteries
- Old Oil Lantern with some oil left looped on belt
- Small book of matches in hip pocket
- Large, Rusted Mechanic’s Wrench in hip pocket
- Working Gloves in back pocket
- A Trash Bag in back pocket
- A shovel secured on her back, with head of shovel functioning as shield for back of head
- 5 bails of hay tossed down into the abyss in the Other Barn
- Key to lock holding chain together that keeps trapdoor up instead of falling
Extra Story Details
Writing Time for This Chapter: Approx. 6 hours and 20 minutes
Draft Number: 1 Draft
Setting: ????
Themes: Horror
Note: This is an "A" story, written first during a day of writing.
Story Notes:
I loved writing this, but it was tough getting that tension up over time. I'm not used to writing such ongoing tension. O.o
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Megan Williams woke up with a start. In a snap reaction, she reached out near the side of her bed, pulled up a shotgun and held it across her chest. She looked around the room with a panting panic as though she had run a mile. It was still dark outside but the sun was starting to appear on the horizon ever so slightly. She controlled her breathing and grabbed an asthma inhaler off the nightstand. She put it up to her mouth and sprayed as she inhaled and felt the medicine work its way into her system.
She held the inhaler in her hand and stared at her arm. She gasped when she saw her skin had been rubbed raw like a severe sun burn. She looked at the shotgun in her arms. A black substance coated the edge of the barrel and the flashlight tied to the end of it. She touched it. It wasn’t blood.
“It was real,” she whispered to herself. She opened the chamber in the shotgun and pulled out two bullets one after another. The third was missing. On the floor near her bed was an assortment of items spread out as though they had fallen very far and scattered upon impact. The first that caught her attention was her knife still in its sheath. She grabbed it and connected it back to her belt. This can’t be happening, she thought. Megan piled the other items into a chest at the foot of her bed. She left it open for easy access.
Megan was still wearing her everyday attire of jacket, jeans and undershirt as she held her shotgun in her hands, now fully loaded, as she crept over to the barn. The door was wide open and her truck sat just outside. She stared into the cab. On the seat, she saw the news article she had printed about the missing kids. Right next to it was her hunting rifle. She hung the rifle on her shoulder and turned on the flashlight strapped to her shotgun. She peered into the barn, but the black ichor over the light’s lens dimmed its illumination to almost nothing. She rubbed it off with the sleeve of her shirt and shone the beam inside.
A patch of wooden floorboards had been cleared away in the center of the room. A trail of dried blood led to its spot, no doubt from the owl Megan had killed the day before. She tapped on the floor and heard nothing. There was no sign of a trapdoor and it didn’t sound hollow. No markings lay on the floor except for those expected by decades of hard use. Megan’s mind reeled from the confusion until she saw the metal chain still wrapped around a support pillar she had used to hold up the trapdoor. It lay slack and disconnected on the ground around the pillar.
What the hell is going on? Megan thought.
“Welcome to the early edition of Local News at 6 with your hosts Harry Townshend and Heather Yamaoka. I am Harry Townshend.” The man turned to his co-anchor across the news desk as Megan watched while she cooked breakfast. She hadn’t showered and her clothes were still caked in dirt.
“And I am Heather Yamaoka,” the co-anchor said. “Today’s top story: Another potential child abduction.” Megan stopped focusing on the eggs in her pan and locked her gaze on the television. “Thirteen year-old Cheryl Hill went missing from her home last night on Roth Road. Police investigators discovered that Cheryl was last seen in her room around 10PM that night by her parents. Sometime during the night, Cheryl’s father went to go check on his daughter after hearing strange sounds coming from her room.”
A middle-aged man with short hair and eyes clouded by tears appeared on the screen. It was dark in the background, indicating the interview had taken place the night before. His name appeared below him, identifying him as Cheryl’s father. “She was talking to someone,” he said. Megan’s stared in rapt attention. A sizzling sound increased in intensity as Megan watched, like rain being burned away. “I heard her. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but she sounded so calm. I knocked on the door to ask her what she was doing. When she didn’t respond, I tried to open it, but it was locked. I had this horrible feeling…I can’t explain it. Like…something telling me to open that door right then. I kicked it down and Cheryl was gone.” He moved to open his mouth again but the scene changed back to the newsroom before he could say the rest.
“Dammit, Channel Five!” Megan yelled. “You always cut away before they have something else to say!” She smelled something burning and stared back at her eggs. They had turned black. She turned off the burner, threw away the failure, and started again.
The news anchors continued to speak to one another as Yamaoka responded to the story.
“This is the sixth possible child abduction in only two months. The police also say there was no sign of break-in.”
Townshend shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, Heather. Again, there was no sign of forced entry like in the previous cases. How can a child disappear from a locked room like that? ”
“I don’t know. But the police are asking for help from extended family, friends, neighbors and even her fellow classmates down at Wickermen Junior High. They’re asking anyone who has any potential clues to come forward.”
Wickermen? I used to go there, Megan thought. She made sure her food was on her plate before she could sit down and focus on the television again. At the distant edge of her memory, something crawled up and out of the thoughts of her school-age years. She found herself clutching the fork in her hand she tight her fist turned as red as the welts on her arm. She stared at the mark. Did I do this to myself? Was I walking around out late at night with all that gear, imagining things in my barn?
The walk through the crimson woods registered fresh in her mind. There were rotten apples everywhere and skeletal trees baring overripe fruit. She saw a small horse searching for food and…
“Monsters aren’t real. Monsters aren’t real,” Megan muttered to herself. She knew she was lying.
She half-heartedly did her daily chores as her mind wandered. Her dogs sniffed her clothing, whimpered and stayed away. Anytime she tried to approach them, they’d run off and bark at her. “Jackie, come back here!” Megan yelled at her oldest dog. The Saint Bernard ran into its makeshift dog-house and peered outside. Every other animal she approached stayed away from her. She examined her clothes closely. Small spatterings of the black ichor were everywhere.
What is this stuff? Megan went to take a shower and thought about what the news anchors had said. The last child that was taken went to her old school. The detail was consequential. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Megan thought about her time back at Wickermen Junior High. She remembered the droning teachers, the mean kids and the cold wooden desks. She remembered sitting in the classroom in the furthest back seat, doing everything she could to be forgotten. She only ever saw the back of most of her classmates heads. The thought of their faceless antagonism creeped up in her memories, refusing to turn around and talk to her when she needed help. The hot water hit her arm and caused her to yelp. She stood back and kept away from the warmth. The pain and the thought of the school made her tear-up. I have to go back. I don’t know why, but something feels very wrong here.
She picked up a new undershirt and jeans. She didn’t have many pairs of boots, so she switched them out for sneakers until she could clean her work attire. A black vest in her wardrobe served as a good replacement for the brown one she usually wore. Her hair was a mess. She braided it back and tied it with a faded red bow. She stared at her image in the mirror. Is the bow too childish? She thought. Cold laughter echoed in the back of her mind. She took off the bow and put it in her pocket as she told herself she wasn’t feeling up to wearing it today. The distant sound of unheard laughter followed her as she took off in her truck towards town.
Wickermen Junior High School had seen better days. The Bonnieville Independent School District never had a lot of money. As a result, they were often forced to cut corners when they thought no one was looking. This led to a lack of durability in everything that has been constructed. Twenty years prior, thirteen year-old Megan Williams went to school in a building that suffered foundation problems, cracks in the ceilings and constant power outages. Now, in 2004, several of the school wings had been permanently closed-off as student attendance dropped drastically thanks to kids moving to the big cities like San Antonio and Austin. Only two major wings remained, while two others stood at the back of the school unused and boarded up.
Megan felt a tinge of sadness when she realized she wouldn’t be able to see most of her old classrooms in the sealed-off sections. She was hoping she could use the visit to a school as a chance to reminisce about the good times. Her hand clutched the steering wheel tightly as she tried not to think of anything else.
I need to calm my suspicions, Megan thought. I’m not here to do anything else.
The front entrance of the school was marred by a few cracked windows in the upper floors above the entryway. Two large dark portals stood out as the windows served as unobstructed views into their darkened classrooms. One had a large crack running through the middle. The two front doors were held wide open, beckoning for Megan to walk into their embrace.
The wind rustled the trees in the otherwise silent environment. No cars were nearby. The front lawn was devoid of any people. It was only 5 P.M. and already the school looked as though it had been abandoned. Megan parked and approached the front steps. The eyeless windows loomed above her. She scanned the sides of the building, but couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. She stared up at the security camera pointing directly at her. She smiled and shook her head. Things have changed.
The inner entrance of Wickermen Junior High showed a completely different picture than the exterior. The floor was spotless. The walls were almost perfectly white. Every locker shone brilliant aqua in the bright florescent lights of the hallway. Signs that said Have a Great Summer lined the farthest ends of the hallways.
Megan found the secretary’s office, but no one was inside. She looked around, wondering who she should talk to. She sat down for a minute and waited. The hum of the florescent light kept a constant buzz in the background of her mind. The secretary’s desk held lots of horse mementos from tiny blue plush animals to banners that say Go Wickering Stallions. Faded horse stickers lined the side of the nearest file cabinet. Most of the heads had been torn off. Megan looked down at the candy bowl on the table. It was the oddest item on the desk by far, as it was a horse’s open mouth where small candies had been stashed down in the throat. It looked like it had thrown its head back and was turned to stone in mid-whinny. A small inscription was at its base: “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Megan turned the head away from her and waited.
The phone rang. Megan looked around. A red light blinked on the desk next to a large phone connected to a digital readout. She could answer it and let them know the secretary wasn’t in, but she didn’t want to get in trouble for messing with an employee’s desk in any way. She sat back and waited. The ringing stopped.
Two seconds later, the ringing started again. Megan stood up and looked out of the hallway. No one was around. She didn’t hear talking anywhere. The phone stopped, then started once more. She stood over it and stared at the digital readout. It read Unlisted Number.
She moved her hand down to the receiver and grasped the phone just as it stopped. Where is everybody? Megan wondered. The phone rang again. Without hesitation, Megan picked it up. She listened. Soft static issued in the background.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Hello,” Megan said. “I’m…”
“Oh thank goodness!” the woman continued. “I was trying to get a hold of somebody for the past fifteen minutes!.” But the phone only just rang two minutes ago, Megan thought. “Who is this?”
“I’m Megan. I’m sorry. I’m not the secretary.”
“That’s not important right now!” The voice said. Megan felt the tension in her words. “Where are you?”
Megan didn’t know what to say. This person sounded in distress. “I’m in the secretary’s office.”
“What?” she said. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m standing in the secretary’s office right now.”
Megan looked around. The office had one desk, one phone, and no place for anyone to hide. “How? I’m the only one here.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Are you still there?”
“Megan,” the voice said, “I don’t know for sure, but…I think something’s wrong with the school.”
Megan clutched her jacket tight. “What’s wrong with Wickermen?”
“Wickermen?” The voice asked. “That can’t be right. I’m in…”
“Hello?” Megan asked when the voice cut off suddenly. There was no dial tone.
A gnawing anxiety began to tear its way into Megan’s stomach. She dropped the phone and ran into the hallway. “Hey!” She yelled. “I need help over here!” No response. Distant memories began to creep back into her mind as no one responded to her cries for help. She placed her hand on the wall and held her chest as she tried not to think about the way her classmates treated her after she came back from Equestria. Tried not to think about their gossip and their cruel words for the girl who claimed she had talked to animals and fought monstrous beings. “I’m fine,” Megan said aloud. “I’m fine.”
Somewhere down the hall, something laughed.
Megan’s eyes shot up. All the lights were still on. There was complete silence. And yet, Megan knew she wasn’t safe. Someone needed help. The woman’s voice on the phone was frantic and tried to warn Megan about something. If Megan had arrived just in time to stop another crime from occurring, then she had to do what she could to see that the woman got help. There has to be someone here who can help me, Megan thought. She spotted a security camera at the inside of the front door. Ah yes! The security room!
Megan turned back to the phone and put it on the receiver. She saw a paper nearby with different call extensions. She picked up the phone and dialed the extension for the security office. She breathed a sigh of relief when it rang. Someone picked up. “Security room,” a man’s voice responded.
“I’m so glad you responded. I need your help,” Megan said.
“Who is this?” the man asked.
“My name is Megan. I was visiting the school when I heard the phone in the secretary’s office ring. I picked it up and this woman sounded like she needed help. Like she was stuck in the school. And I heard something laughing down the hallway.”
“Whoa, slow down,” the man said. “Where’s the secretary?”
“I don’t know. I’m the only one here.”
“Okay listen. Keep calm. I’m right over in the security office. I need you to come over here and tell me what you heard in-person. If no one else is around, it’ll be safer if we’re together.”
Megan felt her heart lift with the idea that she could finally talk to someone. “Thank you so much.”
“Wait,” the voice replied, “Earlier, did you say you heard something laughing?”
Megan thought about her word choice. “I must’ve meant someone. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Huh,” the man said. “Well, the security office is down the hall from the secretary in room 302. The security sign is on the door, so you can’t miss it. Get over here quick, Miss Williams.”
“Thank you!” Megan put the phone on the receiver and walked into the hallway. It was still empty and very quiet. She started moving down the hall when her anxiety began to latch on again. Her walking slowed. There was something about the talk with the man in the security room that felt…off. He didn’t give a name. But that wasn’t such an issue. He didn’t expect to be talking with a random visitor. Megan caught sight of the security sign and breathed a sigh of relief. She knocked on the door and waited. There was no response. She tried the handle. It was open.
She saw a small inner corridor leading to another door. Something is bothering me about that guy, Megan thought. Our talk was so simple. What could it have been? She walked forward. This place is nothing like I remember it back when I went here.
She entered a door, turned left and found herself in another corridor. I came here looking for answers, but I know part of me wanted to find something else. Something that’s been there all along that I haven’t seen. Why am I so scared to think about this time? She felt a pain in her head and stopped following the train-of-thought.
She walked through a door and continued her thoughts as she walked down a passageway heading left. That woman…I wonder who she was? I hope she’s okay. I’ll find a way to get to her. I’ll find a way to be the hero again. Megan nodded. I don’t need people to believe who I was if I can show them I’m still the same person now.
She closed a door behind her and walked left. I wonder why that woman said she was in the secretary’s office. Maybe she was in another school completely? Maybe she was mistaken? Why did the phone have to cut off like that? It’s like something out of a bad dream.
She walked through a door and turned left. Come to think of it…I didn’t get her name either. Why am I so bad with names? First the security guard and then her. She stopped. Wait…he called me Miss Williams. I didn’t tell him my last name.
She moved quickly, opened a door and turned left. Where is here? Where is this place?
She stepped forward, opened a door and turned left. I should’ve seen something by now.
She walked up to the door, stepped through and turned left. This can’t be right.
She turned left. “Hey!”
She turned left. “Where are you?!”
She turned left. “ANSWER ME!”
She turned left. “Where am I?!”
She turned left. “HELP!”
Left. Another door. Come on…
Left. Another door. I’m going in circles…
Left. Another door. Please…
Left. Another door. Anybody…
Left.
She stopped. Megan slid her back down the wall. She cried into her arms. “Why won’t anyone help me…?” she asked to an empty narrow corridor. She sniffled. “It isn’t fair…my whole life…has been like this this…” She bawled her eyes out. “Why can’t I be happy again?” She placed her hand over the pendant on her heart and felt her chest tighten. She pulled out her inhaler and sprayed a burst of medicine into her mouth before putting it away. “All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to believe me…”
She opened the pendant and looked at the small pony next to her. “I miss you, Firefly. This is the only proof I have of your existence…” She kissed the pendant and tightened her grip around it. “Nothing in my life has ever mattered as much as being friends with you…” She placed the necklace back under her shirt and looked up at the florescent light. “I’ll find a way a back. And this time, I’ll stay for good. No one needs me here…”
Something laughed nearby.
Megan stood up and stared at the door she had just come from. She was certain the sound came from far behind the door. An exact copy of the entryway stood on the opposite end of the corridor, around the corner Megan was currently standing at. No, Megan thought. I’m hearing things. I didn’t see anything. This isn’t real. I’m imagining it.
The cackling returned. This time, it was closer. I…I need to leave this place. I’m going to go back through that door, find the entrance and step away. I’ll call the cops from home. They’ll come here and find that girl, whoever she was. She pushed herself to step slowly towards the door she had come from.
“Hehehe,” the laughter was now behind the door.
Megan couldn’t continue. She wanted to say something. To yell out it wasn’t real and prove to the imaginary thing that it had no power over her. But something in her mind screamed. Run…Run…RUN
“It’s not real,” Megan whispered with tears streaming down her eyes. Her hands were over her heart. Her throat was clenched tight.
The door handle began to turn. The lights flickered above. It clicked open.
NO... Megan gasped, turned and ran.
“HAHAHA,” laughed the thing that burst through the door.
Megan reached the door, opened it and turned left. She pushed herself and ran as fast as she could. The thing laughed behind her. Every door she ran through increased the laughter as though another unseen creature had joined its ranks. Then another. And another. Until a Cacophony stalked Megan down the neverending procession of door, hallway, door, hallway, door as Megan began to wheeze from exertion.
I can’t keep running, she thought as she began to slow down. She dared not turn back at the cackling fiend moving ever closer. This will never end. I’m going to die here…
Dozens of laughing beasts sounded behind her, their laughter endless. Megan opened a door, closed it and braced herself against it. No more, she pleaded in her mind. No more.
The handle turned. No, she thought as she grasped it with her hand. The laughter was so close, it caused her eardrums to ache. She held both her hands over the handle. “NO!” she yelled. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”
A pressure formed against the door. The lights flickered above her. Her heart threatened to quit. Behind the threshold, the Cacophony was two dozen nightmarish voices of neverending cackles and heart-crushing madness. They were like a pack of hyenas savagely toying with their prey before they decided to put it out of its misery. As the laughter grew, Megan’s mind wanted to give up, give in and let the monster catch her to end the suffering. She wanted so badly to stop it all. It can't end like this! she thought to herself. Firefly, I’ll never see you again…
You’re strong
The words appeared in Megan’s head from somewhere far away. “No, I’m not,” she whimpered.
You can fight
The words were firm and loving. “No, I can’t,” Megan muttered. The door was threatening to burst. One good push from the other side and it was over.
You ARE strong. You CAN fight. The words repeated in her head. Something stirred in her heart. She couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give up. But then what? She couldn’t keep running. The lights flickered above her. She saw the door, the lights, and suddenly had an idea.
Megan pushed herself against the wall closest to the edge of the door. She braced herself and kept her body pressed as close to the wall as possible. The door burst open. It slammed into her, but she bit down on her teeth and didn’t make a sound. The open door covered her against the wall and the lights completely turned off as the mass of laughing beasts moved into the room. Megan couldn’t see them and kept her eyes closed. But then again, with the lights off, they couldn’t see her either. At least, she hoped.
You’re strong. You can fight…
The laughing continued down the hallway and around the corner. The lights flickered back on. Megan peered out the side of the door and saw nothing.
And you can fly.
Megan ran around the corner of the door and into the light of the previous corridor. She turned right and went through the door. I can make it. She turned right and went through the door. I can make it! She turned right and went through the door. I WILL make it!
A vicious scream rose up from far down the corner Megan had just ran from.
I’m not going to die today!
How many doors had she run through? The number had to be close to forty. Could she possibly make it all the way back? She paced herself and yet she was so tired. Only seven doors in and she was already feeling the fatigue hit her. At ten doors in, her body screamed what she already knew: There was no way she could make it all the way back without collapsing. Her pace began to slow, but she pushed forward. She tried to catch a breather by jogging a little, but her body wasn’t communicating. Her muscles were shutting down. Only fifteen doors in, Megan had a terrifying realization.
What if I’m stuck? What if this whole corridor is infinite and I’m trapped here forever?
She couldn’t cry for help. There was no one. She couldn’t keep running. She would eventually stop. She couldn’t hide. It would eventually find her. There was only one thing she hadn’t done yet.
Megan stopped. Tears formed in her eyes as she heard the thing enter the last door she had come through. She turned.
The lights didn’t turn off. It stood there, shrouded in fulminating darkness. A mass of innumerable tearing arms and snapping jaws laughed as they clawed across the walls, the floor, and the ceiling while the endless howling of laughter echoed down the corridor and into Megan’s mind. The razorsharp jaws of the beast grinned maniacally with every snap and cackle as crawling faceless heads shifted through the undulating form in and out of each other. There was no body. Just a monstrous mob of cacophonous voices and faceless tormentors. Even without eyes, Megan could tell they were staring her down.
Megan didn’t scream. Megan didn’t cry. She had done both enough in the very same school when her childhood persecutors tore into her happiness, smiling and laughing all the while as they did so. They forced her to say she had never been to such a wonderful place like Equestria. Forced her to lie so they would show they had power over her. And even then, they did not stop. She was always the outcast. Always hounded by the distant laughter and the mob of monstrous children who made her life a nightmare until she blended into the background and acted like she didn’t exist at all.
“Are you going to kill me?” Megan choked on the words. The thing only laughed. “I’m not going to make it easy for you. You’re going to have to come and get me. And when I can’t run anymore, I’ll walk. And when I can’t walk, I’ll crawl. And when I can’t crawl, I’ll drag myself as far as I can go, until my heart gives out from trying too hard. But you won’t get the satisfaction of killing me.”
Megan was going to die. She knew it. Her heart had already accepted it. The light in the room changed. It was brighter now. Welcoming. She turned to see where it was coming from.
The corridor was different. It had stretched to almost a hundred yards in length and there was a door at the end. Someone was standing there.
Am I already dead? Megan thought. Did I die and not even realize it?
The person at the door yelled. “MEGAN! RUN!”
Megan felt her body finally respond. She had stalled just long enough for the rest to make a difference. She stepped off the ground and ran. The thing behind her screamed in fury. She had to survive this last one hundred yards.
Megan didn’t have to turn to see the thing tearing into the walls, now ripping into them so violently that she could hear pieces of the wall breaking apart under the stress. The arms reached for her and the lights stuttered like faltering heartbeats as they started to give out further and further away from her, casting her deeper into the darkness with the cackling horror moving closer with every second.
“COME ON! FASTER!” yelled the person at the end of the hallway. “DON’T LOOK BACK!”
You can fly
Megan pumped her arms and legs as her body yelled at her to stop and keep going, fighting with itself over what to do. She moved closer to the light, leaving the screaming beast behind as its howls became more furious, more monstrous. Megan was so close. But her chest started to heave. Her asthma kicked in and she knew it was going to stop her short of the exit. She began to breathe heavy as she lost ground. The person at the end leapt forward and sprinted for Megan. Her vision began to swim as she hit the ground and landed on her hands. Megan couldn’t stand. So she crawled. She pulled herself forward on her hands and knees as fast as she could, gaining so little ground against the beast that was closing in upon her with every second. Her breathing was so bad she started to see flashes in her vision. She couldn’t even waste time to grab her inhaler and kept pulling herself forward until her body fell again. She dragged herself along the floor as the woman reached her, grabbed her by the shirt and hands and pulled her to her feet. She couldn’t even focus on the person’s face.
“I’ve got you,” she told Megan. “NOW MOVE!” She pulled the tired girl across the hall as the lights were so far away now. She could see the walls being ripped apart just behind her and gave every last bit of effort she had to clear the final ten yards.
Something snagged her jacket.
“AH!” Megan barely managed to yell as the woman saw the creature’s grasp. And then another and another. Megan and the woman frantically unbuttoned the jacket as the mouths were only feet away. Megan let the jacket fall behind her and into the shifting mass as the woman pulled her forward and out of the grasp of the shrieking nightmare. She threw Megan through the light of the open door, stepped through, and slammed it against the beast. It screamed in fury as the woman dropped a set of lockers down on front of the door, sealing the creature inside.
Megan heaved on the floor. She shakily reached into her pocket and pulled out her inhaler. But she had landed on it and smashed the capsule which was now empty of medicine.
The woman dropped several more groups of lockers down in front of the path of the door until they formed a line all the way across the narrow hallway. It was now impossible for the door to open.
She grabbed Megan and panted in exhaustion as she pulled her into a nearby office and shut the door. Megan and her hid behind a desk as she crawled under it and held Megan’s heaving body up against hers.
“I’m…dying…” Megan said through heaving breaths.
“No, you’re not,” said the woman, whose eyes were kind and caring. “You’re having an asthma attack. Breathe. Come on, sweetheart,” she said. Megan rested against her black leather jacket and felt the breathing of her chest as the woman calmly spoke to her in a soothing and caring tone. “You’re gonna be okay, Megan. You’re gonna be okay.” She wiped away Megan’s tears as she started to black out. The woman tapped her on the face. “No, sweetheart. You can’t fall asleep here. You’re going to make it, but you have to stay awake, okay?”
“O…kay…” Megan said. Her breathing was getting better, but her body was aching from overexertion. She held up a hand as the woman grasped it in her own. Her aqua eyes were so caring. “I…I think…”
“Yes, dear?”
“I’m hallucinating…” Megan’s breath came back to her. She was starting to see more clearly.
“You’re exhausted. Calm down and breathe and you’ll get your strength back.”
“Your hair…” Megan said as she stared at the mass of red and yellow. “It looks like…bacon….”
The woman laughed quietly as she held Megan in her arms. “I’ve been told this.”
“What’s your name?” Megan asked.
“Sunset…Sunset Shimmer.”
Megan hugged her savior. “That sounds like a pony name.”
Sunset stared at Megan. “Yeah…I suppose it does…”
Author's Note
Extra Story Details
Writing Time for This Chapter: 5 hours 6 minutes
Draft Number: 1 Draft with a minor scene rewrite/omission
Setting: Williams Ranch, Wickermen Junior High School, The Otherworld
Themes: Fear, Horror, Monsters, Trauma, Bullying, Childhood, Perseverance, Hope
Note: This is an "A" story, written first during a day of writing.
Story Notes:
The news report in the beginning has at least six references to silent hill names/creators and one reference to a horror movie creator. Can you find them?
