A Curious Change in Dusk Light

A Curious Change in Dusk Light
Prelude

The gem above her head dimly glowed as she struggled to gather enough magic to lift the quill on her desk. With great effort she eventually raised the quill into the air, dipping it in the pot of ink that was being used to hold a piece of parchment in place. It amazed her how much effort it was taking to simply move the quill so she could scrawl out her final words. She was strengthened by the idea of the importance of the task at hoof. She was at peace with the idea that this would be her last living act. She may very well even die while doing it but, it needed to be done. With a deep breath she steeled herself and shakily pressed the quill to the parchment and began to write.

"To whoever may find this note, and I pray nopony does, please take it as a warning to leave this place at once. Even if these are the only lines of my final confession that you read, leave now, forget that you were ever here. I pray that you do and have a good life for only doom and pain await you here.

"If you have even entered my chamber of horrors to read this it means one of two things: that my warding spells and gems have finally faded, their power to drive ponies away has failed; or that it has found a way to overpower my wards. Whichever will happen first I have no idea but both are certain, I pray it is the former and not the later for if it has over powered my wards then it may be already too late for you and I again beg you to leave now! Flee while it is still possible!

"The things that it has caused me to do are unspeakable, things that I know no sane pony would ever dream of in their wildest fantasies. At times it was as if I was living a dream and witnessing the horrors through another pony's eyes. But, in truth, it was always me, I was the one who murdered those ponies. I was the one who fulfilled my own sick fantasies without care for those that I hurt, even when they begged for death. Because of it I have murdered my friends, my husband, even my young colt, and others I had never met before they became parts of my sick work. Celestia please forgive me for all that I have done, even though I know I do not deserve your forgiveness.

"I look around this small cavern that, long ago, I had fled to when I could feel it's terrible influence first taking grip on my mind and soul in hopes that I would lay here alone, die, and rot away into nothingness. But, it kept me alive and my would-be refuge became my lair, my macabre museum to my sins and my atrocities. Amongst the pegasus feathers, griffon claws, cow brains and other grim tokes I harvested from still living hosts I am always drawn to two item that haunt me the most, two unicorn's horns.

"The first was taken from my loving husband who began to notice my change and tried to express his worry for me. In return for his loving concern I lured back to my lair where I tortured him for days as I scribed dark spells into his horn while he screamed and pleaded for death as an escape from the pain I caused with my dark work. He only died after my work was complete. With several sharp kicks of my hoof I snapped his horn from his skull before driving it into his still beating heart. His blood was needed to complete my spell, to seal the dark magic within the runes on his horn. I still had the audacity to tell him that I loved him as he lay there dying because of me, his blood soaking my coat.

"The other horn belonged to my foal, my young colt who just days before I murdered him had earned his cutie mark. I barely remember what should have been one of the most special days in a mother's life, and that horrifies me. I vaguely remember him rushing up to me proud as could be, the story of how he had earned it gushing out. His father stood there proudly, reacting how a normal parent should, while I stood there numbly, it's voice filling my head with what I thought were more important words. It was only when my husband gave a look of shock at my lack of reaction did I realise that something was wrong. Feigning mild enthusiasm was all I managed to muster. The fact that I still, to this day, do not know what he said, or even what his cutie mark looked like, cuts me deepest of all. It was that night his father confronted me and ended up dead. The day after it made me murder his father my colt began to wonder where his father was. Celestia only knows, no, not Celestia, it, it only knows why but, I took my son to my lair where I proudly showed him the decaying corpse of his father still laying in a pool of dried blood.

"My son was horrified and asked who did this to his beloved father; I smugly proclaimed that I did. He was so confused and so angry at me, and I reveled in his misery. I stood there pompously as my colt wailed over the body of his murdered father knowing that it was pleased with me. There is some mercy in that I can at least say that my son died quicker than my husband. I took the dark wand made from his father's horn and baptised its dark power on him. I think any normal pony would have been sickened and horrified to watch their colt's flesh melt away from his bones followed by the innards, followed closely by his father's flesh and insides, but I was not a normal pony by that point, I was it's slave. The dark magic left only skeletons whose bones I would later use in the construction of terrible concoctions. The shred of sentimentality I had left saved my son's horn.

"Even now, as I think back, I don't feel as other ponies should. I remember how proud I felt and that feeling of greatness washes over me still. I know I should be horrified and ashamed at what it has made me do, but I don't. It made me feel accomplished when I did it's evil work. When I defied it, it brought me pain and showed me promises of pain. But, when I obeyed, it filled me with such ecstasy beyond description. It made me feel accomplished.

"I need to stop saying that it made me do all those terrible things. In the end it was I that actually did them. It simply showed me the way and encouraged me as I did. It's that thought that now finally fills me with the true terror of the scope of things that I have done. I did those things, not it. I have become a monster, not just one of the terrible beings from other worlds I have seen, but a true monster.

"Death draws closer and closer to me with every passing second and still I feel it's will trying to urge me to live. I know with the secrets it tries to give me I could continue to live. I could outlive Celestia if I wanted to. I know how, it has told me, the ingredients sit there on my shelf of horrors. My death, however, shall be my final act of disobedience towards it amongst so many other attempts that failed me. It can't punish me this time because I have to choose to live, and death is my wish. It makes me laugh; truly laugh with joy at that thought. I will have finally beaten it with my dying breath!

"You probably have seen my corpse and wondered who I am. You probably now search this letter for my name. I refuse to sign it because it is best that my name be forever forgotten. I shall die anonymously, with any luck forever undisturbed.

"With my final words to you, poor unfortunate soul who had the misfortune of finding this cursed place, I again plead with you to leave now! You have already tarried far too long if you have read my whole letter and I fear it may be too late for you now. But, if not, flee and forget you were ever here. Good luck to you, may your will be stronger than mine."

The quill dropped unceremoniously as she finished her final stroke. The enchantment that the quill placed on the ink was working. It demanded that even the author read it now, but as her vision grew hazy she knew she did not have the time. With the enchantment her letter would not only survive for millennia but would call for the attention of the potential reader, it would demand to be read. A trick she had learnt from it, hopefully used as a weapon against it.

Turning away from her writing desk her body gave out beneath her. The last of her energy was truly spent in writing her warning. The unnamed unicorn slumped against her soon to be death bed and came face to face with her tormentor for one last time. She wanted to hurl insults at it, tell it how it had destroyed her promising life, but she knew it would only revel in her pain, and she would offer it no such joy. Slowly, and with great effort, she pulled herself into the bed and offered up a final plea for forgiveness from Celestia, or whatever power that would listen to her. Finally, she pulled her tormentor to her breast and died.