Remembrance
Drifting Sanity-Remembrance
All I could feel was the pain circling throughout my body. All I could do is release short spurs of breath. As I continue to walk through the long corridor, the atmosphere itself had thickened. It felt more ominous than before, as if some pony or something lurked around me. My grey fur was stained with blood. My blood, my wounds, my horrors were all becoming a reality. I lacked the materials to attend to my wound so all I could physically do was apply pressure and let it gush out. The wound was on my side, starting a little higher from my front shoulder, making its way right above my cutie mark.
The corridor continued on as if it went on forever. The walls were now more peeled and dry as I went on. All that I could hear was my steps, and the occasional drop of blood that splattered against the tiled floor. The corridor held a rack of some sort every so often for what I assume was to hold torches or candles, alas they were empty. I pressed on, that was the only thing I could manage in my weakened state. Mold and grime were appearing on the floor as I walked deeper inside, blood painted the floor and walls as well as the occasional bones scattered all about. It was obvious that there was no good to come from this. Blood usually begins to cake when left alone, the site made me want to hurl.
The floor still held its checkered tile look, with some cracks here and there, but the mold itself had begun covering it all up as I continued. I was forced to continue my path on top of the moldy floors. The smell that inhabited the area was putrid. It smelled of a mix of a rotting corpse and feces. As for the light factor, the racks were empty, but the celling contained small chandeliers of sorts that gave off enough light so I could observe the monstrosity before me.
Chains rattling off in the distance were heard. My face had whitened as I looked behind me. A pony figure was far off behind. I couldn’t make out a face or color, but I did see it was slowly approaching. I started to panic as I attempted to run; all this did was caused me to wail in pain as my wound reopened. Although I wasn’t able to run, quickly walking was still available to me. The rattling grew louder as I began my escape. Short moans and whispers were heard, the chains were rattling violently now. I had no idea where I was going or heading, but anywhere was better than here. Moans and whispers grew louder as I noticed a branching path to the right. Without thinking a made the turn, it lead to a small room. There was a single table and broken chairs scattered across the floor. There was only one thing I could think of, hide. I looked around for a place to hide when my I saw a wardrobe of sorts in the corner. Why was it in a dining room? I didn’t know, but I quickly limped over and peeked inside. Empty.
Whispers grew louder as I sat in the wardrobe, alone, scared, cold. Hoof in my mouth, I continued to listen. More whispering and rattling was all I heard, and the creature must have been inside the room for the noises seemed to be next to me. Tears streamed my face as a loud moan from the room was made. Blood now covered the wooden wardrobes interior floor. The attempted run had reopened my wound. Pressure was applied with my other hoof; I didn’t know if it would help, but what was I supposed to do? One last moan was made as the rattling grew distant. Slowly but surely the noise was fading. I sat in my own blood, weeping softly. Not only was I under stress, fear, and on the verge of losing my sanity, I was tired. I drifted into a sleep in that wardrobe, an unpleasant slumber that made my bones ach. Sleep was what I needed; besides, I cringed at the idea of opening the door, finding the monster waiting for me.
A blood curling scream was made somewhere nearby. My eyes shot open to the unpleasant noise. I looked around, still in the wardrobe as I was before. The wound had stopped its bleeding, but every movement I made caused a sharp jab of pain. As I cursed under my breath, I opened the wardrobe slightly. Nothing had changed since I last saw it, other than a blood trail and footsteps from what I think was the monster. Slowly and carefully I got up. Pain stabbed me here and there as I stood on all four hoofs, now exiting the wooden prison. That scream, was it a real? I began limping towards the entrance. When I entered before there wasn’t a door, but it looks like at some point there was one. The hinges were damaged and had small clumps of wood. The door must have been smashed through. I poked my head out of the doorway, looking for any sign of movement off in the distance. There was none, just me. Alone. I managed a sigh of relief as I sat for a brief minute. The scream was still ringing in my head. Earsplitting, something out of a horror movie or massacre.
When I rushed in and hid before I hadn’t noticed the walls at all. There were several paintings of a family, the family that lived in this horrid castle I presume. I got back up and slowly walked up to one. Nothing special really, just a colt and his wife with a grey filly. The small child in the photo had a mane that was colored a brownish color. It was hard to tell considering all the dust that had gathered on several of the photos, but I could tell it was a dark brown. The colt was wearing a tux; he stood firm and tall next to his wife. His fur was a dark green color, much like a forest in the middle of the night; his mane was a light grey or almost white tint. This made the colt look older, but still very intimidating. Lastly the wife. The mare wore a stunning violet dress, her mane was golden. It looked so silky and pure, so bright like a sun shining its rays of light on our earth. Her hair alone made the picture vibrant and colorful. She had orange fur and green eyes. They almost looked like emeralds, much like my mother’s did. Just remembering my family made me teary. I backed away from the photo, regaining my senses and took a breath. A long breath to reassure me I could keep going, that I had to carry on. At this moment, I'm beginning to question my very sanity
