Scratch

by TooShyShy

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Horror, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2256

Twilight has an itch she just can't get rid of.

Twilight finds herself bothered by a very strange and persistent itch. The more she scratches, the worse it gets. But no matter what she does, it simply won't go away. It's driving her out of her mind, yet relief seems impossible. However, the itch is only the beginning.

Trigger Warning: Arachnophobia

Happy (almost) Nightmare Night, ghouls and boys.

Published 2017-10-27 21:20:07 UTC
Last updated 2017-10-27 21:20:07 UTC

The Itch

Twilight first felt it at the base of her neck.

She frowned and ran a hoof over the spot. Having been concentrating on a very important book, she was rightfully irritated. Twilight rubbed her hoof rather roughly over her fur as she tried to suppress the itch. But as her hoof sought it out, it seemed to move from the base of her neck to a spot just below her head. Her scowl deepening, Twilight pursued the itch across her fur.

“Oh Tartarus!” she said.

The itch had migrated to somewhere near the top of her head. Twilight dutifully followed. The second she pounced on it again, it darted to the right side of her head. It moved with such unnatural haste that Twilight dropped her book.

“Spike!” she shouted.

A moment passed, then Spike came running into the library. He was wearing a pink apron with the words “Kiss the Dragon” emblazoned on the front. Spike was holding a tray of freshly baked scones.

“What's wrong?” he said.

Twilight was squirming in her chair. In the time it had taken Spike to arrive, a thousand tiny itches seemed to have blossomed from the first. Twilight felt as if somepony was lightly dragging something hot over her flesh. The severity of the itches varied, but the worst ones seemed to have sprung up in places she couldn't reach.

“Can you get my back scratcher?” she said.

The second the words left her mouth, the itching vanished. It simply retreated in an instant, leaving her tortured fur and flesh to recuperate.

Spike studied Twilight intently.

“Are you okay?” he said. “I mean, you haven't left the castle in days and....”

Twilight waved away Spike's concerns. Now that the itching had stopped, her thoughts had settled.

“I'm fine,” she said.

But Spike still looked worried. He knew how bad Twilight's isolation could get if left unchecked.

“You should get some sun,” he said.

Twilight glanced at the room's only window. She'd had the curtains closed for days. Twilight had enjoyed the sunlight streaming through them at first, but she'd come to find it distracting. She meant to open the curtains at night, but Twilight had found it easier to just keep them closed.

“I just need to finish this paper on obscure mental illnesses,” she said. “I need two more days.”

Spike was uncertain. Twilight had said those exact same words a few days ago, as well as a few days before that. But he knew how important it was to her. This would be the first time the Canterlot Science and Psychology Journal published Twilight's work. Worried but surrendering, Spike turned and left the library.

Twilight settled in to continue reading. She casually scratched the side of her neck.

The itch returned after dinner.

Twilight had returned to the library with a stack of papers. She was sitting on the floor going through all of them when she felt it. This time it started on her right ear. The second she raised a hoof to deal with it, the itch skittered to her left ear.

“Again?” Twilight muttered.

The itch left her ear and ran down the front of her muzzle. Twilight pressed a hoof against it, but this time it scampered upward and buried itself in her mane. There it remained, growing in intensity. In a few seconds, it felt like a burning patch of flesh under her mane.

Wondering if it was an allergic reaction, Twilight went into the bathroom. She desperately rubbed at her mane with a hoof as she stood in front of the mirror. Twilight was startled by how tired she looked, but she couldn't think about it at the time. She leaned forward and studied herself in the mirror.

A tiny dark spider fell out of Twilight's mane. It tumbled into the porcelain sink. It hit the sink with a soft plop, its small spindly limbs flailing. It lay on its back in a minuscule pool of water, its tiny body thrashing.

Twilight screamed. She jabbed a hoof into her mane, half-expecting to feel a series of wiggling limbs. But as she frantically tousled her mane, she felt nothing underneath it.

“Disgusting,” Twilight said.

She regarded the spider in the sink. It was a tiny helpless thing, several times smaller than her hoof. Taking pity on the innocent creature, Twilight levitated the spider from the sink and placed it on the floor. She watched it skitter away.

The itch gone, Twilight returned to the library.

The itch came back at full force later that night.

Twilight was lying in bed with a book. It was after midnight, but she'd decided to cram in a bit more research before going to bed. Twilight was being quiet, reading by the glow of her horn instead of turning on the lantern. She knew Spike would complain if he found her up this late. Twilight had lied to him about turning in early.

The itching began near the tip of her hoof. She ignored it at first, her mind buried in complicated words and diagrams. But when the itch found its way to the middle of her chest, Twilight could no longer ignore it.

Another spider? she wondered.

More itches were springing up across her fur. Twilight felt as if a thousand tiny limbs were racing up and down her body.

Twilight threw the book aside and stumbled out of bed. Her senses were lost in her panic. Twilight made her way to the dresser in search of the back scratcher. She didn't care if it was spiders or even if it was somehow her imagination. She simply wanted it to stop.

The back scratcher wasn't on top of the dresser. Spike must have borrowed it without her knowledge.

Twilight was frantically dragging her hooves across every part of her she could reach. She flopped down on her back in bed so she should scratch at her chest. But there was no relief to be had. The more Twilight scratched, the more intense and widespread the itching became.

“What's going on?” she said in a choked whisper.

The itching wasn't merely on her fur anymore. It had somehow wormed its way inside of her. Twilight could feel it underneath her flesh. It felt like a series of spindly limbs.

“SPIKE!” Twilight shrieked.

She pressed her hooves harder against her chest. In her crazed state, Twilight was convinced she could reach inside of her body and snuff out the itch once and fore all. But the more she tried to go after it, the more intense it became. Twilight couldn't even use her magic to soothe herself. The itch had somehow made its way to her horn.

Spike burst into the room. He was clutching his Rarity plushie and rubbing his eyes.

“What is it?” he mumbled sleepily.

Twilight opened her mouth, but the words died in her throat. The itching had yet again disappeared. It left as abruptly as it had come, leaving Twilight with only the subtle aftermath. She ran a hoof across her chest, but felt nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nothing,” said Twilight.

She watched as a very tired Spike shrugged and left the room. Twilight was glad he was too sleepy to ask any questions.

Frazzled, Twilight ran a hoof through her mane. She didn't understand what was happening. She wanted to confide in Spike, but he would probably understand even less than she did.

A nightmare, Twilight told herself.

She passed a hoof through her mane again. Two small spiders fell out of her mane and tumbled onto the bed.

Twilight took a shower the next day. She turned the water up as hot as she could stand it and scrubbed herself from head to hoof. Even though the water was nearly scalding, Twilight stayed in the shower for nearly an hour. Even though her entire body ached, Twilight continued to scrub.

Before leaving the bathroom, Twilight examined herself in the mirror. She didn't see any spiders, nor did she itch. Satisfied, Twilight turned off the light and departed the bathroom.

No more spiders, no more itching, no more distractions, she thought.

Twilight settled into her favorite library chair with her unfinished paper. The paper was thirty-seven pages long. She needed to start checking for spelling mistakes. Then Twilight could finally move on to editing and revising the whole thing.

A spider skittered down Twilight's forehead, darted across her muzzle, and fell into her lap.

Twilight pitched backwards, screaming as her chair toppled over. She hit the floor hard, the papers in her lap flying in all directions. Twilight lay there frozen in astonishment. The itch had returned, this time originating from some point below her collarbone.

Twilight jammed a hoof into the spot the itch had claimed, but it instantly moved away. It rapidly traveled down her chest and settled itself on her left leg. Twilight jumped to her hooves and galloped back to the bathroom.

She stood in front of the mirror, trembling as the itch worked its way up her left back leg and to her thigh.

“Spike,” Twilight choked out.

But she'd heard him go out an hour ago. She was the only one in the castle. Twilight's friends had agreed to give her some space. They hadn't wanted to, but Twilight insisted she needed to finish that paper.

Twilight bent over the sink. Something immense was working its way up her throat. She could feel the fur and flesh of her throat bulging as the thing clawed its way out of her. Twilight gagged. Flecks of dark liquid sprayed from her mouth and splattered into the sink. Her throat distended as the gigantic thing thrashed inside of her. It seemed to grow exponentially as it reached her mouth. As muted choking and gurgling sounds emitted from Twilight's mouth, something thin and slimy poked its way over her jaw. With one massive heave, Twilight vomited the thing into the sink.

The creature hit the porcelain with a wet plopping noise. It fell onto its back and began to thrash its massive spindly limbs. It resembled a spider, but it was about the size of Twilight's face.

Twilight collapsed against the sink. Her stomach lurched. Her body quivering, Twilight rapidly emptied its contents onto the smooth bathroom floor.

“Sp-Spike,” she stuttered weakly.

Twilight opened her mouth to vomit again. But this time something else came out. As she bent over, something tiny tumbled out of her mouth. It was a spider a little smaller than Twilight's hoof. She stared at it, her stomach heaving at the sight.

Something dark and thick began to pour from Twilight's mouth. It rushed up her throat in thick bursts, her neck distending with each eruption. The liquid gushed over her teeth and trickled down her neck. It began to pool on the floor underneath Twilight. It only took seconds for a puddle to form around her front hooves.

Spiders—thousands of them—started to gush from Twilight's mouth. They poured out of her like a living shadow, their bodies moving in rapid unison.

Twilight could feel the spiders inside of her. She could feel them scuttling around her stomach, racing inside her chest, running behind her eyes. They were in her hair, tangled into the long strands that fell over her face. Twilight could feel their tiny bodies scrambling over her gums and squeezing themselves between her teeth. The itch was everywhere, the itch was everything. Twilight could only stand there as it claimed her body.

With one last gurgled plea for Spike, Twilight fell to the floor in a dead faint.

When Spike came home, he found Twilight in the bathroom.

Twilight was unconscious. She lay on her stomach in the bathroom, her mane thrown wildly about her head. Her hooves were bruised and she seemed to have hit her head on the sink. Patches of Twilight's fur were missing, the spots where they had been covered in blood.

Spike rushed Twilight to Ponyville's only hospital.

Fortunately, there were no lasting injuries. Twilight was awake within moments, disoriented but seemingly fine. When pressed for details about the incident, she refused to speak. Noting how dazed she seemed, the doctors suggested Twilight remain there overnight for observation.

A few hours later, Twilight was sitting up in her hospital bed. She was staring at the blank wall in front of her. Her injuries had been bandaged up, including the bump on her head. The doctors said she should be fine in the morning. Twilight looked around, but Spike had left a while ago to tell her friends about what had happened.

Spike had been very clear in the story he told the doctors. No spider in the sink, no dark liquid on the floor. Just Twilight Sparkle, lying face-down with a bump on her head and flecks of blood on her teeth. He hadn't seen so much as a single spindly limb.

Twilight continued staring at the wall.

The doctor would be back in a few minutes. He'd said something about performing tests. Twilight hadn't been listening. She'd been staring at the spider. The spider had been just below the doctor's right ear. Twilight hadn't said a word. She had merely stared as the spider skittered from the doctor's right ear to his left.

Twilight's hoof twitched. The itch was at the base of her neck again.

Author's Note

So this is what happens when I channel a long passed childhood fear into a story.