“So, let’s talk about these nightmares of yours.”

I glanced up from the watermelon and chocolate bar sandwich I was trying to make. The knife in my hand was ladened with cream cheese frosting, which I was in the process of spreading over the jam-filled doughnuts that made up the bread. Off to the side, a bowl of sprinkles waited to be spread over the top of the concoction.

A wine glass filled with grenadine syrup pranced across the counter, its tiny glass legs ‘tink-tink’ing against the hard marble countertop as it danced about proudly. It got too close to the edge though, and I had to catch it before it fell onto the floor. I placed it back on the counter, and it nuzzled my hand before high-stepping off.

Placing the knife back into the frosting bowl, I wiped my hands on my “Will Make Nachos for Tacos” apron as the bowl rolled away, giggling happily to itself as the frosting inside shifted through the various colors of the rainbow. I watched as it fell into the sink before turning my attention to the pony who had spoken. She was splayed out on the overstuffed couch in the corner of the room. A small notepad was laid out before her.

“What nightmares?” I asked her.

This caused her to tsk softly, and she shifted on the cushions. “Very funny. Please, don’t play coy with me. It won’t work.” The sofa yawned beneath her, roused by the mare’s movement, and a large, stuffed pony head formed from the side, like a turtle head emerging from its shell. It smacked its lips noisily before smiling and getting slowly to its hooves. The mare didn’t even seem to notice the jostling motion, or if she did, she didn’t care.

“The nightmares,” she continued. “You know, the reason why I’m here in the first place?” she tapped the notepad with a hoof. “The recurring nightmares that have been bothering you.”

I gave her a confused look. “Nightmares? Wait… you… you aren’t here for the party? Didn’t you get an invitation?” Behind me, the oven gagged before letting out a belch of fire. The aroma of butter and bread accompanied the flames.

It smacked its lips before saying in a thick, Irish brogue. “Muffins are done, ya bollix.”

“Eh, hold that thought, please,” I said, giving the mare an apologetic look before turning and grabbing the oven mitts. It was a little difficult, seeing as they were made out of water, but what better way to keep your hands cool when pulling something out of a hot oven?

The oven sighed happily as I opened its mouth and pulled out the tray of muffins. “Aaah, ‘at’s the ticket, frien’.”

I placed the crystal muffins onto a cooling rack and deposited my oven mitts into the sink before turning back to the mare. By now, the couch had trundled over to the other corner and was settling down for another nap.

“Now, where were we again?” I asked as it curled up.

The mare sighed heavily and removed her half-moon glasses. She gave me a level look. “I feel like you are avoiding the problem.”

“What problem?” I asked, scrunching up my face. “You talking about the party? No, I can’t avoid the party. I’m the one in charge of food.” Turning around, I grabbed a jar of blueberry jelly off the shelf. With a flick of the wrist, I popped the cap off and began to slather it over the muffins. Strawberries went on next, accenting the jam and standing out like little red spikes.

“If I don’t finish these, Madam Pinkie is going to cream me,” I told the mare.

She watched me bemusedly. “Have you already forgotten this is a dream?”

I paused with a strawberry lightbulb held in my fingertips. “What?” The lightbulb lit up. “This is a dream?” For a moment I stared at her, but then my eyes narrowed. “You’re just saying that because you didn’t get an invitation.”

“By the stars…” The mare rubbed at her temples with her hooves. “Please tell me you at least remember what we were talking about just moments ago.”

“We were talking?” I asked. The mare slapped her muzzle, and I cocked my head to the side. “But you just got here.”

“I’ve been here for a while!” the mare shot back. “I’ve been here several times, in fact. And each time you seem to forget about me! I feel like you’re doing this intentionally and I’m starting to get aggravated!”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never seen you before in my life.” Scratching my nose, I gave the mare a closer look. “Are you sure you aren’t here for the party?”

“Yes!” the mare snapped. “I’m here for you!”

“Eh?” I gave her a look of surprise. “I’m sorry? I’m already taken.”

The mare ground her teeth together, and a pair of fangs slipped past her lip for a moment. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and visibly calmed down. “It’s my job,” she muttered to herself. “It’s my job, it’s my job, it’s my job.” Her wings fluttered at her sides as she repeated the mantra several more times before opening her eyes again.

“You can’t keep avoiding this,” she said. “Not only is it bad for your mental health, but your mate has noted that it’s beginning to affect your physical health as well.” She tapped the notebook again. “If left untreated, this could have serious impacts on your wellbeing.”

I stared at the mare, even as the bowl of frosting peaked out of the sink. Something tickled in the back of my mind. A feeling of déjà vu. I was forgetting something, something that seemed important, but I couldn’t recall what. Suddenly, the mare didn’t seem all that unfamiliar.

The noise of the kitchen faded away as I gave the mare a more critical look. “I… know you…”

“You should,” the mare said. “We already know each other. I’m Lun—”

A deep, guttural groan came from behind me. With a start, I noticed that the kitchen had darkened substantially. All the food was now moldy and decaying, with swarms of flies buzzing around them. The countertop was chipped and dull, a large crack running down the middle. The refrigerator off to the side was battered, and its door hung by a hinge. An inch of stagnant water covered the tile floor, soaking my bare feet in a disgusting, brown-green sludge.

The kitchen reverberated as the growl came again, this time louder and more bone-jarring. The various kitchen utensils still on the counter all scampered off, shoving each other aside in their hurry to find hiding spots. The wine glass of grenadine syrup slipped and fell over the edge with a sharp crash.

The mare was in the process of getting off the couch when she suddenly froze. Her face lost its color as her eyes locked onto something behind me. Slowly, her head craned back as her gaze raised up and up and up. “Moon preserve us….”

From behind me, a wet slithering noise made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A thick, viscous fluid landed on my shoulder, the dark liquid oozing down my chest. Swallowing thickly and against my better judgment, I turned.

I barely had time to realize I was screaming as I suddenly woke up.

Author's Note

Oh no. Here we go again. Please, no...