“We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should venture far.” -H. P. Lovecraft
Time Tuner sprang up from his slumber, eyes open wide and heart racing. He stared in the darkness of his bedroom, taking in short, choppy breaths as cold sweat poured down his face. He’s eyes darted around the darkness, desperately attempting to see into the blackness of his room. As the familiar setting started to sink in, his breathing became to calm and he lowered his head.
Another night, another horrific nightmare.
For the past several nights, it was all he seemed to see in his sleep. Shadowy horrors dancing in his mind and soulless ebony eyes piercing his brain with scorching-hot daggers came to him every time he closed his eyes. But such monsters were nothing compared to the puppet master of them all. Colossal and terrible, the obsidian mass caused the earth to quake with every might tread of his taloned feet. Slowly, the titan had moved towards him and, despite Tuner’s best efforts to escape, inched ever closed with ever mightier steps until…
Tuner shuddered in the warmth of his blankets. The mere memory of that horrible crimson eye was enough to cause his heart to begin racing once more. All the other characteristics of the obsidian mass seemed to pale compared to that infernal eye. Burning like a bonfire and seeing into the deepest depths of Tuner’s soul, the single black slit cutting his mind in two, the image itself was almost too much for Tuner to bear.
Shaking off the blankets of him, Tuner got onto his hooves and made his way to the bathroom. On his way out, he glanced at one of the several clocks that dotted the walls of his room.
3:33 AM. How appropriate Tuner mused, sighing as he continued toward the bathroom.
As he moved down the hall, he felt insecure, as though somewhere in the darkness of his home, evil forces watched his every move. He hastened his pace as he quickly stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. With a quick flick of his hoof, the room was bathed in glorious incandescent light. Standing in its glory, Tuner felt slightly better as he reached a hoof out to grab a plastic cup on the counter. Leaning over the sink, he turned it on and watched as clear water slowly filled the cup, bubbles issuing forth ever closer to the top. He shut off the water when the water reached the edge of the cup and began drinking the wonderfully cool liquid.
His thirst now satisfied, he quickly made his way back to his room. As he settled in his sheet and laid his head down once more on the soft white pillow, his fears slowly began to return to him. As his eyes scanned the room, he felt as though a force was standing near, watching as Tuner squirmed and shook in fear. Looking at the clock on his night stand, he saw that it was still only 3:35 AM. Looks like it’s going to be another rough night he thought unhappily.
“I don’t know, it’s just not as cool as I was imagining.”
Time Tuner suppressed the urge to let out a long, frustrated sigh. After not being able to go back to sleep after that terrible nightmare, the last thing he needed was this. Oh sure, he’s friends had warned him about how picky this pony could get, and how specifically vague she could be with her demands, and how he should just let her know that she should take her business elsewhere. At the time, he thought they were being ridiculous. Surely no one could be that decisively indecisive, especially with something as simple as a watch. Besides, he was Time Tuner, the finest watch maker in Ponyville. He hadn’t failed yet in making every pony that walked into his shop leave with a time piece in their hooves and a smile on their face.
Of course, he hadn’t tried finding a watch for Rainbow Dash before either.
Trying to remain civil, Tuner attempted to extract a better criticism than an inadequate level of coolness. “So what exactly is uncool about this watch, Ms. Dash?”
“Oh you know,” she stated nonchalantly. Tuner waited for some sort of follow up to her statement, but all she did was stand in front of his store’s counter, eyes looking over the various assortments of hourglasses and clocks with a bored expression. No, I don’t know, that’s why I asked Tuner wanted to say, but his commitment to customer satisfaction held his tongue.
“Ms. Dash, I’m afraid I’m not quite as ‘hip’ as you, so maybe you could elaborate on what exact isn’t ‘cool’ about this watch.” Tuner hoped that he could coaxes her into elaborating on what she wanted, or at least what she thought was cool.
“Oh come on, Tuner, you’re an awesome watchmaker. Give me something like Applejack has, except make it…” Here it comes, Tuner thought unhappily as the rainbow-maned Pegasus searched for the right word. “Cooler.”
Time Tuner waited to smash his head against the counter. Next time his friends gave him a warning, he would listen to their wise counsel. How in the world her friends got her birthday presents was completely beyond him if she had this much trouble finding a wing-fluttering watch!
Determination kicked back in as Tuner took the expertly crafted watch off the counter and placed it back in the display case. There was no way he was going to make the past two hours pointless. “Not to worry, Ms. Dash, there are plenty more where that came from.” As Tuner returned the watch to the display case, Tuner tried pressing Rainbow Dash once more for clarification. “Any particular reason you have a sudden interest in watches, Ms. Dash?”
“Oh, you know, I just wanna know what time it is when I’m flying around.”
“I imagine so, especially with how the weather’s been lately.” Tuner immediately regretted bringing that up. Sure, every pony knew that Rainbow Dash had really fallen back recently on her weather duties: dark clouds on sunny days, scorchers on days that were supposed to be mild, and there was that one day where it had snowed instead of rained (the fillies really liked that one). Of course that wasn’t an excuse to bring up such a sore topic. “No offense, of course.”
Tuner braced himself for a torrent of excuses and snide comments that Rainbow Dash was famous, or perhaps infamous, for. But instead all she said was, “No, it’s ok” in a tone that almost sounded, dare he say, timid? Tuner looked up and saw that the bored, too-cool-for-school expression on her face had cracked for a brief second, showing anxiety and, dare he say, fear. Tuner raised an eyebrow and continued searching for a watch. Better not ask, he told himself.
Then he saw it. Sure, it was a little gaudy, and it may be a bit above her price range, but he was willing to part with it for a little less than he expected. Besides, if he made it a good deal, maybe she’d be more willing to go for it. He smiled as he quickly came up with a good sales pitch before taking the watch out of the display.
“Ok, Ms. Dash, the last dozen watches were just a warm up for this one. I just had to make sure that you were a very discerning pony. But I can say, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this is the coolest watch in Ponyville, neigh, all Equestria. Behold, the Wonderwatch 3000!”
And with a quickly flick of his hoof, he unveiled the wondrous watch to his captive audience. For a brief few seconds, Tuner held his breathe, praying to the Princesses that this would be the one. Tuner’s prayers were answered when the cyan mare's eyes lit up, quickly taking the watch and flying into the air with a huge smile spread across her face.
“Yes, this is it, this is the one, Tuner!” she said, accenting her enthusiasm with a squeal of delight. “This thing is so cool, much better than those other things you showed me.”
Tuner let out a deep sigh of relief as the mare lowered herself onto the ground once more. “Well, it was just a matter of figuring out what exactly made you tick, so to speak. Now, such a watch unfortunately wasn’t cheap to make, I assure you. The reinforced watch head, the enchanted color coding for the hours of the day, and of course the royalties I had to pay to the Wonderbolts. But I’m willing to cut you a deal, Ms. Dash. How does 50 bits sound?”
“Great!” Rainbow Dash said happily, digging behind her and tossing a bag of bits onto the counter. “Tell you what, Timey, you can keep the change for being such a good sport.” She quickly turned, wings extending for take-off. “Thanks again!” And with that, she was off in a rainbow blur.
Tuner stood behind the counter, a little confused. Sure, the watch wasn’t cheap, but he wasn’t expected her to go for the first price offer. Heck, Tuner was willing to go down as low as 40 bits. Tuner bit on the string of the bag and, picking up the bag while pulling the string back, poured the golden coins on the counter. Looking over the gold mass on the glass countertop, Tuner could immediately tell that there was a little more than 50 bits on the table. Tuner wondered why Rainbow Dash, of all ponies, was being so generous all of the sudden, especially to someone she just met. Perhaps, he thought, she wasn’t being generous; she was in a hurry to get away.
Tuner shrugged the thought out of his mind. So what if Rainbow Dash was a terrible haggler, more money for him. He smiled as he deposited the coins in the cash register, closing it back up with a satisfying ding. At least she was gone, and he could continue to watch his shop in peace.
It had been a pretty standard day at the shop: slow and quiet. Not many of the denizens of Ponyville needed their time pieces replaced or repaired on a regular basis, so business for him was pretty steady and predictable. Oh sure, there had been a few walk-ins that day, but those ponies usually just perused the various hourglasses and clocks for a few minutes and either left or bought them with little incident. Plus, Tuner’s shop never really attracted the young or hyper ponies, so every pony that came in the shop was very civil and polite. Tuner couldn’t remember the last time a customer had complained to him, or wasted his time haggling for ages, or broke into song randomly.
Of course, Tuner preferred it that way. Customers like Rainbow Dash were certainly interesting and presented a nice challenge, but he was glad that they were the exception rather than the rule. His other friends that ran shops in Ponyville constantly complained about how silly or stubborn or foolish their customers could be, and Tuner was glad that in his line of work he barely had to deal with that. Seclusion and quiet with only the occasionally visit, that was the way he liked it.
Tuner looked up at the cuckoo clock located directly above the door. 4:39 PM, the hands indicated. Tuner shrugged and decided it was close enough to closing time. One of the benefits of having a relatively low customer flow and owning your own business was you could close a few minutes early and not have to worry about it. Tuner figured the extra time would be better spent working on a few repair jobs he had in the back rather than standing vigil over the store where his toolset was far more limited.
Just as Tuner’s eyes strayed from the front, he heard the distinctive jingle of the front door bell. He looked back over to see a pony entering the store. She was dressed in a black cloak which expertly concealed all of her torso and legs save her hooves. While the cloak did have a hood, the pony flung it back off her head with a quick shake, revealing the visage of a straight-faced mare. Her black mane was combed straight and proper, matching her dark cloak. She had brown fur and eyes like emeralds. A distinctive horn the same color as her fur marked her as a unicorn.
And despite all those normal features, Time Tuner couldn’t shake a strange, dark feeling he felt as she entered his store. Without even saying a word, Tuner could sense that there was something off about this mare. Perhaps it was the black cloak, or the stern expression she wore on her face. Regardless, Tuner wouldn’t deny service to some pony based on some silly feeling.
“Welcome to Timely Hooves, Ponyville’s one stop shop for watches, clocks, and hourglasses. My name is Time Tuner. How can I help you today?” Time Tuner had repeated that slogan so many times over the course of his time in Ponyville it had become almost instinctive to utter that greeting every time he heard the front door bell ring. The familiar greeting also helped him forget the unsettling feeling that had been growing inside of him.
The brown unicorn seemed to glide over to the counter as she entered the store. Her horn glowed a crimson color as the unicorn removed a sheet of paper from underneath her black cloak. “I have an order that needs to be ready by four in the afternoon tomorrow. Do you feel as though you could fill such an order?” The sheet of paper floated over to the counter and landed softy on its glass surface.
As Tuner took a look at the paper, the cautious feeling toward the cloaked mare returned. Her speech was refined and polite, but the manner in which it was spoken made it sound like it was rehearsed, robotic and calculated as though the mare was trying too hard to sound normal. Tuner also found it strange that, while the mare’s eyes were green, her magic was a very distinctive red color. With every unicorn he had met, their magic was usually a color that was at least close to their eye or mane color, yet with this mare the magic had an altogether different color. Oddity upon oddity about this new customer began to stack up, and Tuner was beginning to feel very uneasy around her.
Tuner’s mind was quickly slapped back into reality when he saw the order. It was a magnificent design of an hourglass, carefully planned and wonderfully detailed. The drawing’s intricate features called for a variety of expensive and exotic materials, obsidian and silver being the most prevalent. A quick glance at the measurements showed that the time piece was to be about as tall as a full grown colt, and as big around as a cider barrel. Tuner’s mind began racing with ideas and plans on how in the world he could possibly fill such in order in only a day.
“If you don’t feel like you’re up to the task, then I can take my business elsewhere.” Tuner was so caught up in the blueprint for the hourglass that he nearly forgot about the brown mare standing on the other side of the counter.
Tuner placed the plan back on the counter. “Oh no, I think I can fill such an order in no time at all. However, there is the matter of price, and given that you’re putting me under a very limited time table and asking for a variety of exotic materials, I’m afraid this is going to cost quite a lot.” Tuner looked back at the design and started tallying up all the costs for the materials involved.
“Price is no objection, and I can provide all the materials you need,” the brown unicorn spoke plainly. She gestured outside the front store window to a cart that was guarded by another black-cloaked pony. While Tuner couldn’t get a clear look at the guard, he did see that the cart was filled with flawless stones and priceless gems. “I am willing to pay 500 bits for the hourglass, along with any gemstones and materials provided that are not needed in the finished product.”
Tuner could scarcely believe his ears. Here he thought he had made a good profit off of Rainbow Dash. With 500 bits, he could finally get that new wagon that he had his eyes on for some time. And with those leftover materials, he could make some time pieces that every pony in Equestria would be clamoring for. This was the deal of a lifetime, and all he had to do was make some silly hourglass!
“Deal,” Tuner quickly said, not wanting the opportunity to pass him by. “I’ll have that hourglass to you by four tomorrow.”
“Good. I look forward to seeing you and the finished product tomorrow. The address to deliver the hourglass to is on the paper. My associate will bring the materials around back for you.” And without another word, the unicorn turned around and exited the store.
As Time Tuner watched the wagon filled with supplies move around to the back door, he began to wonder why the pony was willing to pay so much for such an instrument. Sure, he had to make the dumb thing in only a day, but she was still paying an exorbitant amount for just one hourglass.
He shrugged. Maybe it was just his lucky day.
Time Tuner trudged along the dirt path toward the delivery address. The wooden harness around his waist seemed to pull against him and he hauled the heavy hourglass in his old wooden cart. The squeaking and groaning of the wheels made his head ache as he continued his slow slog toward the brown unicorn’s home.
He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night between working on the wonder that he now lugged behind him and another series of terrifying nightmares. Oh sure, he was used to working late nights on delicate operations like the magnificent hourglass he was delivering, but the nightmares last night kept him up for the rest of the night.
They had been more real than ever before. He had been strapped down on a stone altar far below the warm embrace of the sun. There he bore witness to the horrifying acts of the black shadows that had been haunting his dreams for the last few days. They had taken innocent woodland creatures and, without hesitation or remorse, slaughtered them right before his eyes. The horror-filled expressions on the placid creatures faces just before the shadows had plunged their awful curved knifes into their chests and throats followed by the bone-chilling screams and cries that sounded from their lifeless bodies pained Tuner’s mind. Then they bled the animals dry, storing their life-essence in jars and painting the altar he was on with their entrails. He could smell the decay and waste, but could do nothing to stop it.
Finally, the shadows crowded around Tuner, whispering some strange chant. Directly in front of him, one of the shadows stepped forward, its brown horn glowing crimson red. As the shadow drew close, Tuner could see a shining blade gleaming in crimson magic slowly rise from behind the shadow’s back. As the shadow drew ever closer, Tuner began to recognize it as the shadow began to take shape in the red light of the torches. It was a pony, wearing a black cloak and hood. She had brown fur, a brown horn, and a black mane.
The mare drew the knife close to Tuner’s chest, with nothing separating the blade from his heart save a few inches of flesh and bone. The whispering of the shadows became an audible chant in some ancient tongue, growing louder and louder and the brown mare’s blade lifted higher and higher over its target. Tuner thrashed and squirmed, but his restraints held tight and the crimson-coated blade held fast over his chest, continuing to rise slowly in time with the chanting. Then, with a sudden jerk, Tuner saw the blade plunge down until…
And that was always when he had woken up. The same dream, over and over again, despite how many times Tuner had awoken from it. He had tried everything he knew: he changed positions, he went to another room, he eat something, drank something, drank something a little stronger, but nothing stopped the horrid dreams from returning every time he fell asleep. He had finally given up and stayed up the rest of the night, alone and frightened in his own home.
Unfortunately, that decision was now haunting him. His eyes felt heavy and his legs were weak, and dragging around a humungous hourglass wasn’t helping to alleviate any of that exhaustion. He pulled off to the side of the dirt road and stopped, fetching his map and the address from the cart. As he checked his course over, he looked around. Behind him and to his right he could see the happy little buildings of Ponyville off in the distance, and around him was nothing but grass and the occasional trees. To his left he could see the darkened woods of the Everfree Forest. He puzzled over the map and address again. Surely no pony lived this close to the Everfree Forest, did they?
He sighed and returned the map and address to the cart before reattaching himself to it. Well, that’s what the map says he groaned and he began pulling the cart once more. The only pony he knew of that lived this close to the Everfree Forest was that nice, quiet yellow Pegasus. He remembered coming down this same road to help her fix a cuckoo clock in her cottage, but he had past that place at least two miles back. Why in the world some pony would want to live all the way out here is beyond me, Tuner grumbled, grunting as he pulled the cart up a slight incline. This house better be close, or I’ll just leave it here for that daughter of a mule to find.
However, Tuner’s prayers were answered when he saw a small hut just up ahead. It was hugging the border of the Everfree Forest so closely that it nearly blended in with the dark woods surrounding the house. As Tuner pulled the cart further along, he could see a smaller dirt path leading up to the house. After checking that it was the right address, he pulled the cart to the left and began his trek to the home.
As Time Tuner approached the house, he could scarcely believe the state it was in. The ramshackle hut’s wood was faded and grey, with notches sprinkled throughout the front wall. The thatched roof showed signs of mold and rot, and even at ground level Tuner could tell that the roof did a poor job of covering the structure. The front door was off centered and weakened from years of weather exposure and poor maintenance. The only thing holding the poor door in place was a single rusted hinge that clung desperately to the rotting wood. On both sides of the door, window panes looked hollowly out with only token shards of glass jutting out from the sides of the pane. In a word, the house was a wreck.
Tuner wondered how in Equestria any pony could possible live in such conditions. Better yet, what kind of pony would spend such exorbitant funds on an hourglass when their own domicile lay in such disarray? Tuner shook his head as he pulled the wagon alongside the shanty. He was beginning to think that taking this job was a worse idea than he previously thought.
After taking off the harness, Tuner stepped up to the washed out grey door. It lacked any kind of doorbell or knocker, so Tuner rapped his hoof against the wood lightly, trying not to cause the door to cave in. The door responded with a hollow thunk with each repetition, breaking an eerie silence that had fallen over the area since Tuner had arrived. Tuner waited a few seconds, looking back at Ponyville longingly. The sooner this brown unicorn took her hourglass, the faster he could get away from this wretched place.
Tuner waited impatiently for a few more precious seconds until his anxiety got the better of him. He knocked again against the door, this time louder and harder. The door let out more hollow sounds, but no other sound came from the wooden structure. Tuner frowned and let out a frustrated sigh. “Typical,” he grumbled under his breath, cursing the mare that brought him to this lowly part of the world. Fed up with waiting at the doorstep, Tuner moved toward the right window and peered inside.
The interior of the house was no better than the exterior. Dirt and grime had taken complete control over the floor and surfaces of the home, while cobwebs had secured the walls and ceiling. Dust danced in the sunlight coming into the home through the various holes in the ceiling, and the few pieces of wooden furniture that occupied the room were the same faded color as the house itself. From the looks of it, the house was completely deserted, and had been for quite some time.
Anger boiled up inside of Time Tuner. Of course this job was a complete shame, what could he have expected from such shady characters like that brown mare and her little cloaked friend? Tuner kicked the dirt in frustration, angry at the brown mare and her friend and himself and the world and- everything! Tuner marched over to the door and gave it a swift hind-leg kick for wasting his time.
The door, clearly on its last legs, couldn’t take it anymore. The rusted hinge gave a finally creek before breaking in two. The grey wooden door quickly fell into the home, clattering to the ground with a huge plume of dust. The sudden violent force caused the entire house to creek and groan in protest as some straw from the thatched roof fell from the ceiling.
As the dust settle, Tuner began to panic. He didn’t mean to kick the door off its hinges, or rather, its hinge. He was just so frustrated and tired, and the door was the closest thing around so he had… He had to do something. He examined the remains of the hinge and concluded that there was no way he could get the door back in place using it. Perhaps he could find something to prop the door up, or find something to attach to the door frame to serve as a substitute. Of course, he didn’t have anything like that in his wagon, so maybe the home had something he could use.
He poked his head inside the house and immediately sneezed. The dust was thick in the house, especially since the sudden outburst had unsettled it all. He pressed on and stepped over the broken door. He didn’t want to risk breaking it in half by stepping on it wrong. Taking a closer look around the shack, he saw that it was very spartan. There was a crusty bed along the left wall of the one room home, and a dresser close by braced against the far wall. On the right there was a cupboard with the left door missing. Tuner figured that any sort of useful material would probably be in the cupboard, so he made his way over.
The reverb of his hoofsteps on the old wood sent a slight chill up his spine. The silence that had surrounded the house had returned after the door had finished its final cry, but the silence felt more intense inside of the hut than outside it. It was solemn, like a funeral or a graveyard. Tuner tried to move more quietly.
Looking into the cupboard, Tuner looked disappointing around its empty contains. Unless he wanted cobwebs or dust, the cupboard offered him little. Tuner opened the right door and noticed a strange sight. A single jar not covered in dust or dirt and easily being the newest thing in the home. It had a twist cap on it. Tuner looked over his shoulders, wondering if the owners would mind if he indulged his curiosity. Shrugging, he untwisted the cap and was greeted with the foulest odor he had ever smelled. He quickly screwed the cap back on and returned it to the cupboard. Whatever was in that jar, it certainly wasn’t going to help him.
He searched the dresser next, but he was once again meet with disappointment and cobwebs. He looked around the room, trying to come up with a plan. He could always take the sheets of the bed, but then how would they stay up? And for that matter, the sheets were clearly in no state to keep anything out with the various holes in them. Surveying the room once more, he noticed a rope coming out from underneath the bed. Raising an eyebrow, he walked over to the bed. Upon closer inspection, he found that the rope lead to a trapdoor underneath the bed. Looking around the bed, he could clearly see lines in the dust, showing that the bed had been moved recently to get at this trapdoor.
Worth a look, he reason, positioning himself at the foot of the bed and pushing it out of the way. He gripped the rope with his teeth and pulled back, lifting the trapdoor with a slight squeak. Tuner saw that a stone staircase led down into the blackness underneath the hut. Tuner didn’t want to trespass anymore than he already had, but he couldn’t just leave the door to the house wide open, no matter how horrible the inside of it was. He steeled himself and began his descent into the blackness.
Time Tuner began to feel anxious as the darkness of the claustrophobic staircase began to embrace him ever closer. His spirits were lifted when he saw the light of a torch further down the stone steps. As he came the bottom of the steps, he took a quick look around and-
“No…”
His heart began to race, his breath became short and choppy, and his knees became weak as the familiar setting slowly sank in. The walls of the room were black as night, and seemed to absorb the red light of the two torches that resided on opposite sides of the room. Two tables sat underneath their respective torches.
“No…”
Upon those tables, various cutting tools lay, carefully arranged and neat. Knifes, scalpels, and even axes and hatchets gleamed in the crimson light, glistening in anticipation. And next to those horrid instruments of destruction lay their victims. Small animals, rodents and birds, rested splayed upon the wooden surface. Their faces frozen in horror and pain as their soulless eyes stared at the stone ceiling. Their bodies had been carved and cut meticulously with strange and intricate symbols and runes, and their organs and entrails had been removed and positioned carefully next to them.
“NO…”
Underneath the tables rested clear glass jars filled with the life-essences of the poor cadavers on the tables. The red, vicious liquid absorbed the light from the torches like a black hole. The smell of blood, sweat, and waste filled the air. And there, in the middle of the room-
“NO NO NO!”
-was a stone altar.
Time Tuner’s mind melted, his vision clouded, and a pure, unfiltered, and unrelenting fear made his heart explode. This was the exact same room from his dreams. And now here he was which could only mean that…
“NO!” Tuner screamed, turning around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. He sprinted up the dark staircase as fast as his hooves could take him. He tore through the hut, splintering the door as he ran across it. He didn’t stop to fix the door. He didn’t stop to harness himself to the wagon. He didn’t look back once.
He just ran, fast, hard, and in a blind panic.
The white door kept a silent vigil over the tiny bedroom above the clock shop. It was a common door with no fancy designs or decor on it. On its right, a brass doorknob jutted out. The door stood as the only barrier between the room and the cold, dark house beyond. The door was locked and a dresser had been shoved in front of it.
The room itself was crowded with various pieces of furniture and pictures. The bed of the room lay in the center of the room, the head of the bed resting along the far wall. A bedside table was placed to the bed’s left, and a window to its right. The window had been shut and its curtains pulled, allowing no outside light to penetrate the room. The overhead light hung from the ceiling, black and empty. The room was cast in near total darkness.
All was quiet in the small bedroom save the hushed, rapid breathe of a single pony.
Time Tuner’s mind was still beside itself, gripped in fear. He had no idea how long he had been sitting on his bed, staring at the white door, nor did he care. All he knew was that door was the only way some pony could come in and take him back to that horrid stone altar. It was the only thing in the room that could betray him and allow those shadows to strap him down, sacrifice some more of those poor woodland creatures, and then ritualistically murder him upon that cold slab of rock.
So he had sat there on his bed, fearfully waiting for them to come, bash down his door, and take him away. What else could he do? Scream for help? Run away? Nothing seemed possible to his fear-struck brain, for he knew the moment he dared to look outside that door, they would take him. He was trapped in this cell, unable to escape the pale death that awaited him on the other side.
Then, from some far, dark corner of his mind, a single thought whispered, You are not alone. Time Tuner blinked, eyes finally straying from the door, looking around the room in confusion. Where had that thought, or voice, come from? Was some pony else in the room with him?
Then the gears in his mind slowly began to churn once more. How long have I been sitting here? he wondered, slowly rising to his hooves. It was difficult at first as the feeling rushed back into them. You’d think that those ponies would want to get rid of me quick sense I saw what they were doing.
Unless, he thought, placing a hoof to his check, did they even see me? There wasn’t anyone else in that hut, and I didn’t see a soul for miles going to and from there. Maybe they don’t even know I saw it. Oh wait, he remembered, fear gurgling up from his gut, I left the basement door wide open. Crud!
Tuner began pacing around the room. There has to be a way out of this, there has to be! No, no, hold on, he steadied himself, the fear slow subsiding again, I may have left that secret door open, but maybe they haven’t gotten back there yet. The place was completely deserted, and maybe that they haven’t gone back there yet.
Confidence boiled up in Tuner. Which means I’ve got a chance! I can get out of here, run off to someplace far, far away where they’ll never find me. Or better yet, he thought, the sage words that had lifted him up coming back, I can expose them! Yes, I’ll tell every pony. I’ll parade all of Ponyville to that shack and watch as the mob rains down on those evil ponies like fire!
Of course, he triumphantly thought, he wasn’t all alone against these abominations. They were all alone against him!
New purpose drove him as he marched over to the white bedroom door. He pushed the dresser blocking the door aside and unlocked the knob. He threw the door open and began making his way downstairs.
The entire house was dark, no lights were on and all the curtains were pulled. Tuner figured that in his panicked state he had closed them all in an attempt to hide himself in his own house. Despite the darkness, however, Tuner navigated himself around his home with ease. Having lived here for most of his adult life, he could move through his home effortlessly in pitch black.
He moved through his workshop, scooted around the store counter, and finally reached the front door. Try to kill me, will you, Tuner thought, righteous fury blazing in his mind. Well, wait until I tell the whole world about your dirty little secrets you stupid, moronic, psychopathic-
Time Tuner opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of the full moon shining down on the darkened streets of Ponyville. The stars in the sky shone brightly, and the call of far off crickets chirping was the only sound that broke the silence. All the houses were dark, and the peacefulness of night hung in the cool spring air.
“How long was I in my room?” Tuner wondered aloud.
“Long enough.”
Tuner’s body suddenly froze as felt his hooves leave the ground. Tuner felt weightless as though some pony had turned off the gravity. Suddenly he flew backwards into the shop. His body smashed into a rotating display in the middle of the shop before slamming into the glass counter. Glass shards cut deep gashes in his back as various watches clattered to the ground, most of them broken or cracked.
He felt light-headed and weak as he tried in vain to return to his hooves. As he squirmed, he could hear the crunch of glass that was now scattered everywhere around him. His vision slowly focused as he shook his head, trying to regain control over his limbs. Looking back toward the opened front door, he saw a pony-shaped shadow obscure the light of the moon. Black and horrible, the figure was an obsidian mass save for the dim crimson glow around its horn and its eyes, burning with vigor and hellfire.
The black shadows from his dreams had found him.
Tuner felt like his body was trapped under ice. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his legs to work. His heart pounded in his chest as his breathe became forced and short. He could feel the cold sweat pour out of his body, mixing with the blood oozing out of his lacerations. He could feel the red eyes slowly burning his mind away, leaving only unbridled terror.
The shadow inched closer, eyes still burning with tainted magic. No matter how hard Tuner tried to turn his head or lift his body up, he could feel the eyes holding him down like the talons of a great bird upon a small field mouse. The figure was mere feet away when its horn began to burn stronger and stronger until it bathed the entire storefront in unholy red light.
As the figure lowered its head, pointing its horrid horn directly at Tuner, he mind screamed to move. But his body was locked, unable to function under the eternal watch of the crimson eyes. The light issuing forth from the horn concentrated, but instead of making the horn brighter, it caused it loose light, like a black hole sucking the final glimmers of light from a red dwarf sun.
This is it. His eyes watched the horn transfixed, waiting for the final strike to end his miserable life.
All of the sudden, the horn disappeared, replaced with only empty space. The red light surround the store was quickly doused, and darkness quickly fell over the store. He felt a great wind flow over him as the shadow pony flew over the counter. It was all happening so fast Time Tuner couldn’t keep up with the action. All he knew was that now he was freed from the eternal gaze of the demon’s eyes, and he needed to escape.
He tried his legs once more, but found his body still unresponsive. Looking down, he saw that the floor was slowly being covered with a thick, red substance. Confused, Tuner tried to move off of the broken countertop. Pushing with his front legs, he managed to dislodge himself from the counter. Hitting the ground hard with his front legs, he tried his hardest to get his hind legs to follow in suit, but they were numb and couldn’t move. His front legs started to shake and buckle under the weight of his heavy body, and he crashed onto the floor with a thud.
His vision became blurred and dark. He could barely hear the sound of a voice over him, trying to tell him something. His mind became murky and cloudy, unable to function under the growing numbing that was flowing through his body. As the voice began to yell at him, Time Tuner fell unconscious.
Muffled voices penetrated through the black veil that had covered Time Tuner’s mind. They dully communed with each other, unclear and muted. Over the voices, a constant beep kept rhythm, chiming in time with his own heart softly thumping in his chest.
As the voices slowly became louder and clearer, Tuner steady woke up. He strained to open his heavy eyelids. Cracking open slightly, they were met with a glorious fluorescent light, blinding his eyes and forcing them closed once more. Trying again, he caught his first glimmers of his surroundings.
At first, all he saw was blurred and cloudy objects surrounding him on all sides. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was located in a large white room, with a grid tile ceiling dotted with white fluorescent lights. The room was sparsely decorated. There were two chairs positioned on either side of the door directly in front of him. On his left hung both a mostly empty IV and a heart rate monitor, beeping in sync with his own heartbeat. Behind them was a green curtain, pulled halfway across the room and blocking most of Tuner’s vision of that side. On his right, a bedside table with a single lamp rested comfortable in leg’s-reach. The white drywall came after, with a single large window giving a clear view of Ponyville outside. The window was flanked on both sides by potted plants inside large clay vases. Above the door was a circular clock with a blue border. Its hands indicated that it was 9:17, and judging by the light coming in from the window, it was morning.
At the foot of his bed, two ponies stood watching as Time Tuner rejoined the waking world. The one of the left was a unicorn, dressed in the typical doctor’s uniform: a white coat with a green tie and a stethoscope hanging around his neck. The one on the left wore nothing save a white nurse cap with a red cross displayed boldly on the front.
The doctor pony spoke first, “Now don’t move too much, Mr. Tuner. You’ve been through quite the ordeal.”
Tuner’s hearing had finally come back, but his pain receptors had also returned. A dull pain covered his back and upper hind legs. Tuner let out a groan. “What happened? Where am I?”
“You’re at Ponyville General Hospital, safe and sound,” The doctor explained, levitating a chart hanging on the foot of the bed. “It’s seems that you collided with that glass counter at your shop. You have deep lacerations in both your back and hind legs, but luckily your ribcage and spine managed to protect your vital organs.” The causal manner that the doctor spoke about Tuner’s massive injuries did little to alleviate Tuner’s growing stress. The doctor quickly flipped through the final pages of the clipboard, continuing his frank summary. “You’ve suffered major arterial bleeding and you had a severe case of shock when you were brought in. It was a good thing you were brought here so quickly, otherwise you might not have made it.”
The memories came flooding back. The heartbeat monitor began to speed up as the horrors of last night returned to Tuner brain. He jerked up, ignoring the aching from his wounds. “What happened to the pony that attacked me? Did she escape?”
“Easy there, Hon, don’t want you mess up your back again,” the nurse gently commanded.
Time Tuner took a few deep breaths and leaned back on the soft hospital pillow. “I assume you mean the pony that was found in your home,” The doctor said, eyes only rising briefly before returning to the clipboard. “No, she didn’t ‘escape’, and she certainly isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Trust us, sugar, she’s in a lot worse shape than you are,” the nurse said, shaking her head.
“What happened to her?” Tuner asked the two. His memory was still very fuzzy about last night. He remembered those horrible red eyes, and the black magic aimed directly at him. He remembered the whoosh of air whizzing by him as the dark pony flew over him. He had gotten up, walked toward the door and then… he couldn’t remember.
“Poor thing got hit by something going mighty fast,” the nurse told Tuner.
The doctor replaced the chart to the edge of the bed, elaborating on the nurse’s diagnosis. “She’s currently comatose with several broken bones, including her skull, and severe internal trauma. Whatever, or whoever, hit her certainly hit her pretty hard. Did you know her?”
“Uh, no, she att-“
Before Tuner could explain, another nurse popped her head in the door. “Doctor Good, we’ve got a problem with Ms. Ball over in the rehabilitation ward.”
The doctor let out a frustrated groan. “Oh for Pete’s sake, this is the third time this week.” He turned back to Tuner. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tuner, but I’ll have to go over your treatment at another time. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” And with that, the doctor quickly followed the new nurse out of the room.
The old nurse stepped over to the IV, checking it with indifferent professionalism. Time Tuner still found it hard to believe that he was laying here cut and bruised in a hospital bed. Finding the stone altar from his dreams in that basement was horrifying enough, but now the monsters from his dreams were real, too? What was he going to do?
“You feeling alright, Hon?” Tuner jumped, turning to see the nurse giving him a funny look. “You’re shakin’ like a leaf on a tree.”
“What? Oh, uh, yes, yes I’m fine,” Tuner quickly stammered out. “I’m just ah- a little cold.”
“Ok, if you say so,” the nurse shrugged, returning to her work at the IV. “I’ll turn the heat up on my way out.”
“Thanks,” Tuner said, looking down at the blue comforter. It’s soft, gentle color and the warmth it provided did wonders to sooth Tuner’s restless mind. He looked back up. “Do you know who brought me here?”
“Who brought you here?” the nurse repeated the question, tapping her hoof on her chin. “Don’t rightly know, Mr. Tuner. If you can believe it, some pony just dropped you off right at our doorstep. Whoever it was, they saved your life.”
The nurse finished her work at the IV and made for the door. “Just try to relax, Hon. You’re in good hooves here.”
“Thank you,” Tuner called as the nurse left the room. Despite the nurse’s encouragement, Tuner couldn’t help but feel helpless as he sat up in his bed. The bright sunlight flooding the room from the pristine window couldn’t seem to eliminate the creeping darkness Tuner could feel crawling in. His feeling of safety and comfort had been shattered by recent events. His eyes kept gravitating toward the open door, fearful that at any moment the dark horse from last night would slink in and finish what it had started.
Tuner shifted in the bed, trying to ignore the fears that whispered doom in his ears. Readjusting the covers, Tuner caught movement in the doorframe. His eyes shot up, expecting to see the horrible silhouette from last night. Instead, his fears were alleviated at the sight of a cyan pegasus with a familiar rainbow mane.
With every passing event, Tuner was having more and more difficulty believing he wasn’t just dreaming. What was Rainbow Dash doing here?
“Hey there, Tuner!” Rainbow Dash cheerfully said, inviting herself in. “I heard about last night, and I thought I’d check up on you.”
Time Tuner was skeptical that this was just a friendly visit. Sure, Tuner was overjoyed to no longer be alone, but out of all the ponies that knew him, why was she the first one to show up? How did she know he was here, and what did she want?
“So, are you feeling ok?”
Tuner had to get to the bottom of this. “Oh, I’m fine, all things considered.” Tuner raised an eyebrow. “Why, exactly, are you here?”
Rainbow Dash gracefully landed near the right side of Tuner’s bed, throwing her mane back with her trademark air of arrogance. “I was just checking up on my favorite watch maker. Like I said, I heard about what happened last night and wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Tuner frowned. Sure, every pony had heard of Rainbow Dash, but he doubted that Rainbow Dash had heard of every pony. “You’re just checking up on me, a pony you met two days ago?” Tuner didn’t buy it. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem like the type to randomly visit ponies in the hospital.
“Yeah, what, are we not friends or something?” Rainbow Dash said defensively, a scowl spreading across her face.
Tuner began to feel anxious. Just what is this crazy pegasus after? “No, I’m just a little surprised to see you here. We only met two days ago and it just seems a little strange that you would come to check up on me.”
“Well, that brown mare really beat you up last night, and I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Rainbow Dash said, the friendly smile returning.
Tuner was taken aback. It was one thing for Rainbow Dash to know that he was hospitalized. It was quite the other to know more about what happened last night than the doctor that was treating him. There was no way that Rainbow Dash could know about that unless she was there. Was she the one that took him to the hospital? Moreover, was she the one that knocked out that crazy pony?
“Well, good to see that you’re good, so I think I’ll be on my way.” The Pegasus flicked her wings out and prepared to zoom out of the room. Tuner had to think fast, ask her question, bring up a topic, do something to find out what she was up to.
“Were… you there last night?”
Rainbow Dash’s wings locked back to her sides. “Wh-Why do you do ask?” Rainbow’s eyes wandered, unable to meet with Tuner’s. It didn’t take a detective to tell the pegasus was hiding something.
Tuner frowned. “I was just wondering how you knew I was in a fight last night. I just spoke with the doctor and he didn’t even know what happened last night to me, just that I hit my glass counter.” Tuner leaned forward, sending a slight pain through the cuts in his back. “Were you the one that tackled that pony?”
The cyan mare’s face looked like it had just been slapped. Recovering, Rainbow Dash shuffled her hooves and took a quick look out the open door. Satisfied that no pony was listening in, she sighed. “Yeah, it was me. But listen,” she said, her voice going low and threatening, “keep this a secret. I don’t want any pony to know about it, got it?”
Tuner was a little surprised to see the showboat of Ponyville acting so secretive about such an act of heroism. Tuner expected her to be trumpeting this newest act of daring bravery to every pony, not try to hide it from every pony. “Why?” Tuner asked.
“Because no pony is going to believe me when I try to tell them that brown unicorn tried to murder you!” Rainbow Dash whispered in a harsh tone. “The police are trying to find out who knocked both you and that other pony out. They think that it was just a robbery gone bad. And guess who the prime suspect is going to be when I say that I saved you from some pony that was using freaky magic!”
Rainbow Dash gave one of the bedposts a swift buck before plopping down on her hindquarters, a frustrated grimace scrawled across her face. But Tuner could sense the fear and anxiety behind her angry exterior.
Tuner attempted to cheer her up. “Come on, why wouldn’t they believe you? You didn’t take anything and I can vouch for you. Besides, weren’t you one of the ponies that saved our town countless times?”
The cyan mare scoffed. “Please, most ponies don’t even care about all that. And who would believe that any pony would want to kill some pony? That hasn’t happened in, like, forever! Besides, with the way I’ve been handling the weather lately, they’ll just think I’m going crazy.” She hung her head as she stared at the white ceramic tiles. “Maybe I am.”
Better change the subject, Tuner decided. “So, how did you know that I was in trouble?” he asked.
Rainbow Dash looked up and out the window longingly. After a brief pause, she returned her gaze to Tuner. “I saw it in dream.”
“A… dream?” Tuner mind reeled. Ever since the nightmares had started, he thought he was the only pony suffering from them. Was she suffering from them, too?
Rainbow Dash looked back out the window. “More like a nightmare, actually. At first they only came at night, so I took more naps during the day. But then they started happening every time I went to sleep.
“They were all the same. I would be flying away from some freaky looking ponies dressed in black cloaks, and just when I almost escaped from them, some huge black monster would come out of nowhere and…” The pegasus shivered in the warm room. “Every time it was just about to squash me, I would wake up.”
Tuner listened intently. She was having the exact same dreams he was having. This can’t be a coincidence, Tuner concluded.
Rainbow continued, “That was until three nights ago. I dreamt that the ponies that had been chasing me came to your home in the middle of the night, drug you out, and- ugh.” The memories clearly pained the cyan Pegasus, but she fought through it. “They killed you, murdered in some weird cave or something on a stone table. And all I could do was watch. That’s why I kept coming by your shop. I had to make sure you were ok because, I mean, the visions were so real and- shoot, I don’t know.” Rainbow Dash’s voice trailed off, her gaze once again returning to the clear blue skies outside.
Well, that explains why she suddenly took such an interest in watches, Tuner thought, she was keeping tabs on me. But what does all this mean? What’s causing us to have these dreams, and just who are these shadow ponies? Tuner’s mind was soon flooded with questions, each one compounding on the next.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
Tuner was quickly snapped out of his musing. “What? Oh, yes, yes I do.” Tuner leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Because I’ve been having the same dreams myself.” The cyan pegasus gave him a quizzical, incredulous look. Tuner continued in a hushed voice, “Dreams of black cloaked ponies with red eyes and a dark horror with a single, draconic blood-red eye.”
The cyan pegasus took a step back in surprise. “You have… But then, what does that mean?”
Tuner frowned and shrugged his shoulders, sending another wave of dull pain down his spine. “I don’t know. Horseshoes, all I know is that some pony, somewhere, doesn’t like me, you, or any pony else here in Ponyville.” Frustration built up inside of Tuner. “For that matter, who in the world are we supposed to go to for help? Who’d believe us, let alone be able to explain what in Equestria is going on?”
Rainbow Dash smiled. “I think I know some pony that can help us.”
Time Tuner always enjoyed visiting Ponyville’s library. There was something so comforting in a public institution that embodied quiet, introspective reflection and learning, two qualities that he enjoyed so much. Tuner would usually visit the library when he found the time to get himself lost in the selection of books it offered. His cutie mark might be an hourglass, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a good book every once and a while, right?
Of course, this time Tuner wasn’t at the library to find the next novel to occupy his spare time for another week. Instead, he and Rainbow Dash were here to talk to its caretaker, Twilight Sparkle. While Tuner didn’t have extended conversations with the purple unicorn due to her studies and various adventures, the few times he did have a chat with her had been nice. She was definitely the scholarly type, but Twilight still had a charm about her that made her far better than some of the other stick-in-the-mud librarians he had the displeasure to deal with.
“And that’s pretty much the situation, Twilight,” Tuner finished. During their visit, Tuner had been monitoring Twilight’s facial expressions. It had started off as a friendly, happy smile as she invited to two in. Then it had change to curiosity at Tuner’s various bandages, stitches, and fresh scars, only to then be replaced with shock as he described last night’s attack. Concern mixed with interest as Rainbow Dash elaborated on the tale and explained the strange dreams that had been haunt both her and Tuner. By the end, all that was left was an expression of dumbstruck disbelief.
“Good heavens, you two,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “That’s quite the story.”
“You believe us, don’t you Twilight?” asked Rainbow Dash. Tuner silently prayed that she wasn’t about to have them both committed.
“Well, yes,” she said hesitantly. “But I’m not sure what I can do for you. I’m not familiar with dream analysis, and I’m sure there isn’t anything detailed enough to help you in the library.” She furrowed her brow, lost in deep thought. She turned to Tuner, “You said that the magic you were attacked with last night seemed weird. How so?”
“I don’t know,” Tuner said, reaching back into his memory. “It just… didn’t feel right. I mean, I’ve never seen a unicorn weld that kind of magic before. It was more sinister somehow.”
“Do you think that maybe our dreams are being caused by that stuff, Twilight?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Possibly,” Twilight said. “I can’t know for certain unless we either talk to the pony that attacked you or we investigate somewhere she cast a spell like the one she tried to cast on you.”
“Uh, I wouldn’t bother with talking to that pony,” Rainbow said, scratching the back of her mane, “at least not for a couple of days.”
Tuner gulped. Tuner knew exactly where that evil pony had been practicing such magic, and he sure didn’t want to go back. The images of the shack’s basement were still fresh in his mind, as well as the horrible vision of what could have happened to him there. The mere thought made his skin crawl. The further he could keep himself from that stone altar, the better. But how else could they find out what that psychotic pony was up to, or what was causing their nightmarish visions?
“Well, there’s this shack outside of Ponyville,” Tuner suggested despite his mind’s protests. “The pony that attacked me last night was a customer of mine. She asked me to make and deliver an hourglass to this shack the day before the attack. When I was delivering it, I saw that inside it she had set up some kind of magic workshop. Maybe we can find some answers there.”
“Hey, yeah! The place has got to be deserted since that crazy pony is still in the hospital. We could swoop in, take a look around, find some clues, and be gone before any pony even knows we were there.” Rainbow Dash was clearly on board.
“It is the only lead we’ve got, but,” Twilight turned to Tuner, “are you sure you’re fine with going back there. You seem pretty shaken up about this ‘shack’.”
No way am I going back there! Tuner’s mind screamed, but he held his qualms back. “It’s the only way we can solve whatever is happening. I’m ok with going back.”
“Alright, well, let me get a few things and then we can go,” Twilight said, ascending the back staircase and calling for her assistant.
What have I gotten myself into? Tuner lamented.
