The Door

by Equimorto

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Main 6, Spike, Horror, Other, Starlight Glimmer
Length: 3987

There's a door in Twilight's castle. She doesn't know where it leads to, she doesn't know why it's there. But it is. Sometimes, at least. It's rather hard to catch though.

Twilight had no idea of where the door had come from. It was there, and that was a fact. When it was there, at least, which wasn't always the case. But she would find out what was behind it sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. The door was always there, after all.

Audio reading by ObabScribbler.

Published 2019-11-01 00:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-01 12:33:03 UTC

D

It was a simple metal door, the worn out grey paint chipped in places, a little rusty. Quite out of place, embedded in the gleaming crystal walls of the castle. Like someone had pasted it there.

Twilight noticed it for the first time a little while after she'd moved there. After she'd found the map, while moving some boxes of what was left of her old belongings. She saw the door from the corner of her eye, while focused on the cardboard envelope held in front of her, and made a mental note to check on it again.

When she walked back to fetch more boxes, the door was gone.

She payed it little mind at the time. Another oddity of her new home, she thought. She would figure it out eventually.

o

The second time she'd seen the door had been a few months later. She'd almost forgotten about the thing, until one day, there it was, clear as day on the corridor's wall.

Twilight was in a rush, but reminded herself to check again on it. Rarity needed help, the door could wait for the moment. She trotted past it, and shook her head. She didn't have the time to do it then.

The door was gone when she came back.

She wouldn't be so easily deterred. She studied the place where it had been. She prodded at the wall, with magic and with her hooves. But the crystal gave no answer. A smooth, seamless wall was all she could find, no trace of anything beyond it, no trace of magic.

n

It was at the end of an hallway, where she met the door for the third time.

She got a good look at it then. No different from what her impression of it had been the first time. Grey worn out paint, a little chipped, some rust here and there. Perfectly inserted in the wall. Sealed shut.

No rush this time. No boxes to move or friends to help. Just her and the door.

She walked towards it. She wasn't sure how she'd ended up there, the castle was still a bit unfamiliar to her. Or maybe it shifted. But that seemed to be a new place, and the air was a little colder there.

Twilight shivered, walking towards the door. The area was poorly lit, too. And a dead end, without the door. But at least she'd find out what was beyond it.

Spike called, from somewhere behind her. She turned to the sound.

When she turned back, the door was gone, along with the wall, and the hallway stretched out in front of her, lit by the Sun.

'

It was while cleaning the library that she met it the next time. Her feathery duster moved away from the empty shelf she'd just worked on, and her eyes fell on the space between two bookcases, now occupied by the door.

Twilight paused. Eyes locked on it, she slowly backed away from the wall, set the duster down, and finally sat in the middle of the room, facing the door. She was interested in its behaviour.

Not that its contents didn't interest her, but there was something about the way the door seemed to act. Almost like it was playing a game. She wanted to study that.

Slowly, she stood back up. The library felt oddly empty, with all the books removed. Colder, even. Eyes locked on the door, she passed behind a bookcase. When she came out, the door was gone.

Playtime was over, for a while.

a

It was rather bothersome at that point.

She'd tried to catch it, so to speak. Round a corner slowly, be mindful of her head movements. But the door had ways to defend itself, it seemed. Or perhaps she was simply growing paranoid.

A comic book left on the ground by Spike making her slip. The tablecloth getting caught in her hooves. A sound at the door or at the window, or the crystal floor being too slippery, or even a sudden sneeze.

The door was doing it on purpose. But that made no sense. And she knew it. Much more simply, she was getting too caught up to pay attention to her surroundings. Logically, at least.

She had no idea how water had ended up on the kitchen's floor, and she was sure that she'd walked there while coming in. And she remembered the knives being somewhere else. But after that unrequested manecut she'd decided to give up on it, she was clearly taking her obsession too far.

W

Twilight was walking to the library when the door appeared to her. It was on the side of the corridor, embedded in the wall as usual. She saw it just as she turned the corner. And it stayed there as she walked along the corridor.

It almost felt like it was watching her. Making fun of her. Daring her to try to open it. She had no intention of playing that stupid game.

She rounded another corner. The door was there again, waiting.

In every corridor she visited. In every hallway she passed through. The door was there. Staring in silence, judging her.

Twilight reached the library. Its door wasn't there, and the door was in its place. She stopped and stared at it, swallowing. Then, slowly, she turned and walked away.

h

The door stood there, at the end of the room. Where the exit should have been.

It wasn't a problem. Yet.

She needed to stay there to study anyway, and there was another door on the opposite side. It wasn't a problem. She just needed to stop it from becoming one. She just needed to be reasonable. At worst, if the door became the only one in a room with no other exits, she would just teleport.

She had no intention of trying to open it. That was the game it wanted to play, but she wouldn't lend herself to it. She wouldn't give it the satisfaction. She'd tried blast teleportation once, appeared right in front of it. The door hadn't been there, and she'd made a book fall on her head. She'd given up after that.

There was nothing to do about it then. Stay there and study. And ignore the door.

At the opposite end of the room.

Watching her.

Twilight got up, taking her books. She could use some studying in her own room.

a

She'd been planning to read a bit on her own. The door seemed to be against that.

It followed her, whichever room she picked. Whichever floor, whichever wing of the castle, whether she got there by hoof or by horn or by flying in from outside. It was always there, greeting her with its plain grey surface. It was always there.

She knew it was irrational. She knew she just needed to ignore it. She knew she wasn't able to.

And she'd tried. Tried not to look at it, tried to sing to herself, tried to get engrossed in the book she was reading, tried to think of a thousand other things. But she knew the door was there. And she didn't want to be with it.

The sky was clear outside. Reading under a tree in the park didn't sound so bad.

t

She'd been spending more time with Spike. Not so much in terms of doing things with him, though it wasn't like she didn't spend time with him that way. But in terms of being in the same room as he.

Read a book while he read a comic. Study while he did his chores inside. Make sure to always eat together. Have her own schedule line up with his, so she would go outside when he would. The door didn't show up when she was with him.

Before then, at least.

It was behind him. He didn't see it.

Twilight had never told anyone about the door. It seemed a rather pointless detail. Now she had no intention of doing it. It would make fun of her. Make her look crazy to them.

A gust of wind from the window knocked over a book, and when Twilight looked back, the door was gone.

I

The door was there, at the back of the room.

Twilight couldn't move. Twilight couldn't talk. Twilight could only stare at it in the mirror, waiting for the other pony to be done. She'd never hear the end of it if she moved even a muscle and ruined her work.

Rarity, on the other hoof, was free to talk and look around. But she was too focused on Twilight's manestyle and make up to notice the door. So she simply kept working on the alicorn.

Twilight had never liked fancy events. But in that moment she was glad she'd be in Canterlot for the night.

Rarity passed in front of the door, obscuring her vision, and a moment later the wall was back to normal.

'

Starlight had moved in. She hadn't seen the door. She'd never met it, never made mention of it.

Twilight wondered if she should have told her. It made sense. Starlight would stay in the castle, so she'd have time to check on it. Starlight was smart. Downright brilliant. It would be a great opportunity to study it, and maybe finally understand it.

All she had to do was speak. Right in that moment, if she wanted to. The door was there after all. Behind Starlight, as the unicorn sat to eat dinner with her. No reason not to tell her.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but the heat from the spoonful of soup she brought to her lips made her flinch. Enough for the door to disappear. She could always wait for the next time.

s

Pinkie was blindfolded, because of course she would be. And the door was there, taunting her.

It was a party. A party of two, but even without her sight Pinkie was still equivalent to about a dozen normal ponies. Games were played, songs were sang, confetti were scattered and cakes were somehow eaten. And all the while Pinkie saw nothing, for whatever silly reason she'd decided to throw a party blindfolded.

And so Twilight had her party. A party of three, for her. Her, Pinkie, and the door. Oh, she tried to have fun, and she did actually have some. But the door was always there. It knew it wouldn't be seen, so it chose to play with her. And despite her best efforts, Twilight couldn't ignore it, though she chose not to bother Pinkie with it.

L

It had become a reoccurring phenomenon at that point. So much so she didn't bother lining up her schedule with Spike's anymore.

The door would be there, always out of the dragon's sight. And it would always disappear before he could see it. Twilight had never seen it disappear, only looked back to not find it where it had been, but the door found a way.

Sometimes a blink of her eyelids. Sometimes a sound. Sometimes Spike passing in front of her, sometimes wind moving a page over her eyes. And then the door was gone. Like it had never been there.

What would Spike think if she told him about it? That she was crazy. No point in even trying.

i

Fluttershy looked worried. Fluttershy asked her if everything was alright. What should she have answered?

No. Things were not alright. But she couldn't prove it. Whenever the pegasus turned to her to ask, one way or another she covered up the door. Maybe with her mane, maybe by stepping to the side. And when it wasn't her it was something else.

A reflection from the window. A book falling from the shelf. A leaf drifting in from outside. It was the door. It was doing it on purpose. It was toying with her. But she would not give in. She would not allow it to make her look crazy in front of the others.

So yes. Everything was alright. She would not let the door win. She wouldn't let it have things its way.

k

It had become common occurrence with Starlight too.

The unicorn was far more perceptive than Spike, but the door was resourceful. Just as much as it messed with Twilight to disappear, it messed with Starlight to not be seen. The same tricks, falling books or comics left on the ground, but Starlight didn't know, she couldn't put the pieces together.

What she could see was the worry in Twilight's face. But that was less and less of an issue as time went by. Twilight was becoming good at hiding it. Good at pretending it didn't disturb her.

She would not allow the door to make her look like a fool. She had to live with it, but she wouldn't let it ruin her. She would pretend not to care. The world wouldn't know. That's what it was all about after all.

A plan to make her look crazy. But she wouldn't play along.

e

It was a disaster. A complete disaster.

She'd let it slip. And with Rainbow Dash no less. Now the pegasus was zooming around the castle, looking for a door. And the door still found a way to hide in plain sight, where Twilight could see it but Rainbow couldn't.

The pegasus stopped in front of her, hovering in the air, studying her expression. She seemed sceptical. Like she was suspicious of something. Perhaps of a prank? Yes, that was perfect. So perfect.

Pretend it was a prank then. Laugh a fake, nervous laugh, and shoo away the mare. Oh what an awful prank she'd tried to pull. Rainbow Dash left, confused, and Twilight was once more left alone with the door. And the door stared back at her, daring her to enter.

e

The door was with her. Always, at that point. Wherever she went, whatever she was doing there. It followed her, consistently. And still, it managed to hide from everyone else.

And at that point, she didn't care anymore. Really. So what if the door wanted to make her look crazy? She wouldn't give in. She'd gotten used to it. Always there in every room, always at the corner of her eye when she was moving, always ready to greet her when she looked up from anything.

It was just the way things were, at that point. The door was, and there was nothing to be done about it. Just accept it, and live with it. Go to sleep to the sight of it, and see it when she woke up, and see it behind her in every mirror. That was her life at that point. And it was fine.

o

It was a quiet day in Canterlot. Twilight had finished her royal duties earlier than usual, and her meeting with Luster wouldn't come until a couple of hours later. She'd chosen to have a walk through the hallways, trying to relax a little.

And then she saw it.

Grey paint, chipped in places, a little rusty. Waiting for her, in the wall at the end of the corridor. It had found her again.

It had been years. She'd forgotten. Now she remembered. The days and nights spent with that door, taunting her, following her, always out of reach. But there was something more. Something she'd missed last time.

Had she ever really wanted to open the door? Not really. Not since she'd realised what it was, and chosen to ignore it. And truth be told, she did not want to open it still. But it wasn't about that anymore. Even if she didn't want to, she had to. It was for the better.

Twilight stepped forward, up to the end of the corridor, and placed a hoof over the old and worn-out latch. Then, she opened the door.

n

It was an old, rusty door, the grey paint worn out and chipped in places. It stood there, in the side of the building, and Twilight wondered what was on the other side of it.

She needed to go back. Her mother would start to worry about her if she didn't see her soon, and she shouldn't have walked so far away from the park anyway. But now she was very curious.

She barely made it to the latch with her height. Thankfully, it slid open with surprising ease. Just a peek wouldn't hurt, right? She'd look inside, then run back to her mother. No one would need to know she'd sneaked out there.

With a small struggle, the little filly pushed on the door, and watched it open before her.

d

The first thing that froze her was the smell.

It was worse than anything she'd ever felt. It made her want to puke, it made her want to run away, and it made it impossible to do either as it nailed her in place there. It wasn't even a smell. It was a sensation, something that dug into her and made her whole being cry out in agony.

It wasn't just that though. The stains were black, but they'd been red at some point. On the wall, and on the floor. And the bugs scattered as the light pierced the room, some flying past her.

The shape was there. Almost formless, but not quite. Out of place in the room, and she could still make out what it had been.

Twilight stood there, watching.

The Door

Twilight stood there, watching.

The mops and buckets stared back. With a flip of her wing, she closed the plain wooden door to the broom closet, and stood there. She stared ahead, without really seeing anything.

Was it still there? She'd have to search through old newspapers to find that out. Could she even find the place?

Did she want to?

Twilight turned, and walked away.

t

Twilight was becoming fascinated by the rules of the door.

It had found her in the library again, not the first time after that day when she'd been cleaning, and Twilight had been prepared this time. She'd set up a series of mirrors, in the middle of the room, a little more than a quarter of a circle. All reflecting the place where the door would be.

Careful not to let her eyes leave the door, Twilight walked towards the mirrors. Then, very carefully, she began to shift her gaze. One image to the next, one mirror to the next. In all of them, she could still see the door.

Giving her back to it, Twilight still saw the door behind her, reflected in the final mirror. Slowly, and carefully, she repeated the process backwards, going from mirror to mirror.

But when her eyes left the last one, she found no door on the wall, nor reflected in any of them anymore.

S

Twilight was becoming frustrated by the door.

It hadn't showed up in the library for a while, outside of when she was walking away, too far from the mirrors. But then, once she'd removed her experiment, it had started to appear there again.

It almost felt like it was mocking her. Appearing at the corner of her eye, right as she was passing by a corridor, only for it to not be there when she looked back. Sometimes it flashed in her vision while looking up from a book or from her meal. Once she even saw it in her mirror, only to turn around to nothing.

This went on for quite a while. The door dodged any chance of her studying it, and came back to her when she was too busy for it. She looked one way while searching for something, and there it was, only to be gone a moment later. It was impossible to do anything about it, and at that point she was almost becoming accustomed to it.

y

Twilight was eating lunch when she saw the door again.

She looked up from her plate, and there it was. She practically didn't care about it at that point, she'd danced to that song for weeks already. She looked back down, took another bite, then looked back up.

The door was still there, and Twilight's jaw locked in place.

A moment later, Twilight finally decided to swallow, and her eyes went back to her plate. It didn't matter. It would probably disappear anyway before she got to it. Maybe make her trip on something.

She glanced back up, to the door still staring at her.

Why hadn't it gone away yet? But it didn't matter. And anyway, she had things to do. She couldn't experiment then.

A look at the door, a look at the clock, a look at the door.

Twilight finished her meal and walked out.

She spent the afternoon helping Applejack, and had dinner with her family.

t

A thud echoed in the room as Applejack set the box down. She'd offered to help move some stuff, though it was mostly an excuse to spend some time together. Twilight certainly didn't mind the company.

Then it happened. Behind the earth pony, so close to her. Twilight froze at the sight.

Applejack looked at her, worried, then turned.

Twilight couldn't see the door anymore. Applejack's hat had covered it up as she'd turned. Then the mare turned again, still puzzled, and the wall behind her was once again devoid of features.

Twilight shook her head. She put on a smile, she dismissed the issue, she brought her friend to the exit and watched her walk away.

And when she turned the door was there, waiting for her at the end of the corridor.

B

The door had followed her to sleep that day. It had replaced her bedroom's only exit, and had seemingly no intention to leave. And so Twilight was stuck there, tucked in her bed, with the door staring at her.

She couldn't sleep like that. She tried to cover her eyes with her blankets, then a moment later looked over them. And the door was still there. She didn't want to sleep like that. She didn't trust the door. She didn't trust it.

She kept staring at it, without closing her eyes. She wouldn't give in. She couldn't risk it. It was still there, and it didn't want to go away. She couldn't risk it.

She never did realise whether she'd fallen asleep or merely blinked, or if she'd seen it disappear and forgotten. But when the morning came she realised she was there staring, and the door was not. Not anymore, at least.

y

The door wasn't there.

She'd been gathering up her things, she was ready to leave the castle. And the door wasn't there. She'd looked for it, searched for it, and it hadn't been there. It was nowhere to be found.

Twilight was nervous. Why? Why then? What had happened? Was it over?

It couldn't be over like that. After all the time spent with it. It felt like a part of her was missing. It had been years. The door had been there for years! And yet, already, she couldn't remember. She'd never opened it. Why was that?

Why had the door been there? What had it been? Would she ever know?

The door didn't show up. Not as she searched her castle, again and again. Not as she walked through its halls for the last time. Was it still there perhaps, and simply hiding from her? One last trick to make her look mad, by reversing its tactics? Was it right behind her, just waiting for her to turn so it could disappear?

But why did she care at all?