I thrash and turn on the small couch of what I generously call my living room, not 100% awake, but not asleep either. While not exactly conducive to a good night's rest, it's either that or another nightmare-filled night, so I concider the former a small blessing all on its own. In this semi-lucid state waking up is oddly harder for me than normal, each attempt at waking as exhausting as trudging through waist-high snow for miles on end.

My limbs are filled with soothing warmth, the air smells like petricor mixed with an oddly ashen smell, akin to one of a still smoking bonefire. The crackle of burning wood reaches my ears, accompanied by familiar muffled voices that, while unintelligible, bring with them a promise of hope and companionship. A smile makes it's way onto my face, one I'm not sure as to the origin of.

Through the crackle of the fire and the noise of conversation, another sound creeps in, slowly growing in intensity until in trumps all others. Snapping and cracking of chitinous insect limbs, the impatient gnawing of mandibles, the deep otherwordly groan than weighs down your entire existence, followed by the smell of blood and rust. A chill runs down my spine as low, guttural whispers surround me on all sides, an oppressive hymn of thousands of voices, drowning out all thought.

Heat drains from my body as I start to shiver uncontrollably, a panicked scream dies in my throat as the feeling of pins and needles stabbing into my body spreads alongside the thin black chitinous appendage wrapping around my body. It seems to have noticed my squirming, as it starts to convulse in anticipation.

I'm not sure what it's waiting for.

I'm not sure how much time passes, but at one point the voices synchronise, the deafening cacophony melting into a single, horrifyingly coherent, but nonetheless unintelligeble voice.

Y̸̆ͥ͑ͬ͗̑̈͌̀͟͢͠͝҉̥͖̼̣͜ͅͅơ̶̧̡̲͙͚͍͓̣͛̄̂̾͊ͬ̂ͫ͘͘͜͝ų̍̃ͧͩ͑̔̅̆͏̴̴̶̡̮͕̜͕̰́͜ͅ ḩ̵̷̺̻̜̹̤̺̋́̔̿̊ͥ̐ͪ̕͟͠͞͠ą̴̉͋̓ͥ̾̔̾͐̀͜͡͝͏̶͎̺̙̭̙̬v̵̵̢̡̨̓̌͑͐̐̓ͤ̉͟͏͉̬͔̪̯̼͜ȩ̴̨̥̝͔̮̪̜̒̓̄͋ͣͭ̑ͩ̕͞͡͞͝ ťͭ͒̓̋̓̔̋͠͏͟͏̵҉̱͚̣̫̲̟̕͟o̴̢̢̼̣̫̳͎̗̎͒̏̌ͯͨͧ̿̀̀͟͢͢ rͧͦͧ̎͆̈͛̒҉̶̷̸̵̨̗̖͇̯̝͈͜͞ẽ̶̵̸̛̼̣͙̤̺͚̏̊ͦ̍̆ͤ̓̕̕͟͟m̶̨͗̓ͬ̑̽̓͛́̚͘͢҉͓̳̟̠̰͞͝ͅe̶̫̻͈͎̭̪ͬ̿͗̄̒ͤ͆̒̀́̀͜͞͡͡m̶̧̛͙͙̭̯̹̗͂͐̃̈̄ͪ̌͛́͟͟͞͝b̷̶̢̡̛̗̬̭͚̱̼̿ͮ̒̆͋̓̓ͧ́͟͠ę̨̧̘͕͉͍͉̯̔̾͊̐ͧͯͭ̀̚͟͜͡͝rͫ̑̇ͣͦ̾̔͌̀͢͏̶̨̧̥̭̘̺̺̪́͞.̷̴̸̵̸̶̼̹̫̱͚̘̋̌͋̓̍̄ͩ̚̕͜

I jump awake when white-hot pain sears through my head, falling silently onto the wooden floor, staying as silent as possible, as every little sound reignited the fires inside of my skull. A single ray of gold caresses my face, warmth spreading from the point of contact onto the rest of my body. The pain subsides letting me crack one eye open, the warmth of a rising sun greeting me.

Maybe Seabreeze was onto something.

Sounds of the morning forest follow me throughout my trek to Zecora's hut, having a somewhat calming effect where it not for my knowledge of what roamed these woods. Getting almost mauled to death isn't the best first impression, I must say. Still, becoming something's lunch is leagues better than living through whatever happened this morning, and apart from going to a hospital, which was an obvious no-deal, Zecora was my only choice.

"A hermit zebra shaman being my best option... Where did my life go so wrong?" I say out loud to nopony in particular, chuckling a little at myself.

T̶̡̡̠̣̜̞̽ͫ̍ͨ̂̇́͠w̸̒̓̂̑ͧ̑͘͝͞͏̟̠̻͉o̿̓ͨͨ̐͐͜҉҉̶̡̬̼̜ͅ ȳ̵̴̶̲̺͍̈́ͩ̿͛̌̀͞ͅȩ̴̱̰̺͔ͥ̋ͩ͋̽̐͡͠͞ą͙̞̟̠̎̉̓̄͂ͯ́̕͟͡ŗ̐̓͊̿͛͑͝͏̨̟̮̠̫̕s̶̸̵̨̜͎̯͖̆̊ͩ͌ͯ̿͜ ḁ̶̶̢̛̲͎̺̓̒̾̿ͨ̓͝g̷ͥ́ͤ͑̋̚͏̛̜̥̜̝͘͟o̿͆̉̐͂ͤ҉̢̳̫̺̘̕͢͝

I whip around, my eyes darting across the bushes and branches, across the foliage, across the entirity of the forest all around me. I squint and furrow my brows as the forest suddenly grows silent, an uneasy atmosphere settling over the Everfree.

"Fuck it."

Sometimes trusting your gut feeling is a good idea, ask your cave pony ancestors that survived almost exclusively due to a fight or flight responce, so, honouring the traditions of the ancients I take off in a mad dash along the trail, hopefully towards Zecora's hut.

A few minutes later I find myself standing in front of Zecora's tree hut, panting and out of breath, but nonetheless alive. The rush of chase, while completely unfounded and somewhat reversed from what I usually experience, feels oddly nostalgic, and I find myself growing a tad giddy at the thought of having escaped some kind of predator, imagined or not.

"I'm going crazy, aren't I?" I say mostly to myself, taking a deep breath.

"While your thought patterns are bizzare, I don't think you've yet gone too far."

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" I yell, staggering back and barely keeping myself from tripping over any tree roots. My gaze travels to the origin of the voice, a striped figure looking down at me with a pensive expression. I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart slowing down its embarracingly rapid pace to a more acceptable rate. "Ever thought of wearing a bell?"

"Have you?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I like the element of surprise." I say with a small smile, one that I hope looks innocent enough.

"Your tongue hasn't dulled since we last met, I take you've met little to no threat?" She says, turning her back to me and trotting towards her tree home.

"Apart from freaking myself out, the way here was clear." I reply in as cool voice as I can muster, following the mare into her humble abode. I can't help but flinch just a little as the door shut behind me, the sound reverberating in my head in waves of pain. Just as I begin to rub my forehead, Zecora turns to look at me with a thoughtful expression.

"You're free to visit me in any season, but I feel like you're here for a reason." She noted, stirring something in the big cauldron in the middle of the room.

"Should've known you're psychic." I remark dryly, looking around Zecora's peculear abode. Countless bottled concoctions of all colors of the rainbow line the wall-mounted shelves, accompanied by small pouches of Sun-knows-what. Another notable, if creepy, detail are the dozen or so exotic masks hanging on the house's walls.

It kind of feels like their eyes are following me.

I shake my head to shake off the feeling of being watched, which proves to be a terrible idea, as hundreds of tiny shards of glass bounce off the insides of my skull. "But you're right, I'm not here for a friendly visit." I say with a wince, sitting down on a wood sofa carved into the tree itself, generously provided by my host, who nods to communicate she's listening.

"For as long as I remember, each time I fall asleep ends with either a nightmare, or a complete blackout until morning." I begin with a sigh, closing my eyes to help gather my thoughts. "Furthermore, at least once a month I have to completely isolate myself at home, or risk having a migrane somewhere in the open." My breathing is steady, the sound of boiling water and crackle of burning wood a somewhat relaxing background noise. "Ever since I came here, the situation have worsened, and seeing as I will not go to a doctor, you're my only choice." I open my eyes, focusing on the intently listening zebra, and utter three words I never thought I'd say.

"Please help me."

The words leave a bad taste in my mouth, a sickening feeling in my guts as the zebra looks at me with a thoughful expression. Finally, after a good five minutes of waiting, the internal debate Zecora's been having has seemingly come to an end, the zebra standing up with a silent nod.

I watch her take firm and deliberate steps towards one of the shelves, closely studying the multicolor bottles. Enough time passes in total silence to make her next words sound like thunder on a silent night.

"Ever since you first came to my abode, I gathered you are very odd." She began in the mesmerisingly accented voice of hers, picking up a dull-grey colored bottle.

"It is a rare occurance indeed, to see so many spirits take heed. They speak of foreign thoughts inside, of something else that here resides."

She approaches me with concoction in her grasp, and lightly taps my forehead. "The foreign force is memory tied, locked in your head for freedom it vies."

A low buzz resonates angirly in the back of my mind in responce to her words, making me frown. "Does this have anything to do with my nightmares and migranes?" The question comes out more irritated than I intend it to.

Zecora uncorks the bottle, placing it besides me. "The lock was damaged in a way, it started slowly to decay. It holds less power than was meant, which is the cause of your torment." She finishes, approacing her cauldron and grabbing a wooden spoon hanging over it on a piece of rope.

"So you're saying I have amnesia... How does that equate to the other stuff I told you about?" The question is genuine, but it seems to annoy Zecora to some degree.

"Loose memories invade your mind, they poison it, make it run wild. If there's a way to help you out, we need to break the lock, no doubt!" She scoops a bit of green goo from the cauldron, adding it to the dull grey mixture.

"That seems counter-productive..." I mutter, nonetheless finding myself agreeing with the mare. "Can you 'open' the lock insead of breaking it though? Breaking sounds kind of... painful." I add, not thrilled at the prospect of 'breaking' anything inside of my head. Broken enough, to be honest.

To my dismay, but not surprise, Zecora shakes her head, corking the bottle and violently shaking it, the mixture turning an orange color.

"The key has cracked no going back, no way around the lock." She replies, handing me the bottle. "Drink this every night before bed, to welcome locked memories into your head. Once enough of them breaks through, you will be free from what ails you."

I take the bottle into my grasp, squinting at the small air bubbles that float within the mixture. "Should I down the whole bottle, or..."

"One third of it per night is right, take any more and you'll be sore." She says calmly, cleaning the spoon and putting it on its respective place. A beam of light fighting its way through the thick canopy of the Everfree breaks me out of my observation, reminding me that I have a job.

"Right, thanks for everything, Zecora, but I think I'm getting late for my job." I say, getting up and stuffing the bottle into one of the many pockets of my jacket. I hear a hum of acknowledgement as I make for the exit, shutting the door behind me.

"That's one problem hopefully taken care of."

Whoever concieved the concept of waiting in line deserves to be publically executed. I don't think I'm exagerrating when I say that everypony hates waiting in line, no matter the age, sex, tribe, or upringing. You take even the most patient pony and ask them to stand in line, soon enough they'll turn into a psycopath.

Perhaps I'm not the best example of this given my hobbies, but I stand to reason that in an enviornment like that, even the nicest pony in all of Equestria would begin to get on one's nerves. Case in point: the butter coated, pink maned pegasus next to me has been talking about bunnies for the past half an hour. Now, don't get me wrong, I like cute bunnies as much as the next guy, but holy cungadero I am seriously considering strangling her right here, right now.

"Not all bunnies are like that, of course, Angel's just a special case, is all." Fluttershy finally finishes with a small smile, her expression as kind as always. I sighn inwardly in relief, and look behind the mare, seeing the pony in front of her go into the Princess' office. Great, only one more pony between me and an interview with the newest 'Royal Highness'. Sun knows why Ponyville Chronicles want an interview with the mare, seeing as she's been the town's resident for, like, five years at this point, but I'm not one to ask questions when an easy job presents itself.

Something springs to the forefront of my mind, and I can't help but ask. "Miss Fluttershy-"

"Please, just Fluttershy." The pegasus interrupts, taking me aback. "All my friends call me that." She says with a smile.

Well, she's definently more asserive than I remember. Remember? The tartarus I'm on about, I just met her half an hour ago! I'm probably confusing her with somepony else.

"Right, Fluttershy, I hope it's not too rude to ask..." I begin, shaking my head to get rid of my earlier thoughts. "...aren't you friends with Princess Twilight?"

"Yes, she's one of my best friends!" The pegasus replies with a smile.

"If that's so, why are you waiting in line? Can't you, like, walk right in? Or talk to her off-work, so to speak?" Seems like an obvious answer to me, to be honest.

"Oh, I'm just holding the place in line for my friend, he's supposed to get here any second." She replies softly, taking a look at the wall-mounted clock.

A friend, eh? I wonder who that-

"Fluttershy, dear!" An almost familiar voice eminating from the wall-mounted clock assaults my eardrums as I pin my ears to my head. "I'm back from my weekly spring littering!" The voice continues, somehow louder now.

I turn to look at the source of the noise, and my eyes almost pop out of my sockets at the sight before me. A mish-mash of different animal parts emerges from the wall, the clock hands turning into literal hands, the round body of the clock stretching to form the vaguely oval-shaped form of the creature, a head popping atop its newly formed neck.

"I can't thank you enough for staying in line for me!" The creature says, approaching the pegasus and confining her into a tight hug, one that Fluttershy reciprocates. "Someone cleaned up extra-hard in my house to day, so I had to put double the effort to remedy that!" He exclaims, letting the happy-looking pegasus go, the mare flapping her wings idly as he lowers her to the ground.

"I'm glad you were successfull in doing... whatever it is you did, Discord!" Fluttershy responds, stumbling a little as she no doubt tries to think what exactly oddly-shaped friend did. "But I'm afraid Angel bunny's due his massage, and I don't want him to get any rowdier than he already is." She says with an apologetic smile, earning a hand (claw?) wave from this Discord fella.

"No need to apologise, my dear! I know how irritating that bunny could get, so I understand your hurry."

"See you at the tea party, Discord!" The yellow mare chirps, giving one last goodbye hug to her friend, before trotting towards the stairs leading to the exit.

"Looking forward to it, Fluttershy!" He says with a dopey smile, his expression silly enough to make me stifle a giggle. The action seems to be a grievous error on my part, as the creature turns to me with a slightly irritated expression. The predatory smile that splits his face does little to calm my nerves.

"Oh me oh my, who do we have here?!" He stretches towards me at impossible speeds, draping his clawed hand over my shoulder. "Jed, ol' pal, long time no see!" He exclaims, giving me a mildly painful noogie as I try, and fail, to break free of his iron grasp. "Let me get a good look at you!" I yelp unintentionally as Discord grabs me like a cat, and holds me in front of him.

"Those royal sticks in the mud sure did a number on you!" He says in a somewhat saddened tone, although his face remains as cheery as ever. "You look nothing like I remember..."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, the name's Witty Note." I say, wiggling in his hands to no avail. "You got the wrong guy, cap'n."

Suddenly he burst into laughter, unceremoniously dropping me to the ground as he grabs his stomach.

"W-Witty Note?" He wipes a tear from his eye, breathing heavily. "How'd you come up with that?!" He shakes his head and waves his hand at me. "Nevermind, it's more funny this way."

An awkward silence falls upon us as I clear my throat and look away from him, a small detail putting me on edge.

There's no sound. No noise of conversation, of hooves click-clacking against the crystal floor of the castle, no ticking of the clock.

Nothing.

I look around and notice that the world seems a little more faded than usual, the colors more bleak, the otlines of objects less pronounced.

Just as I'm about to ask him what's going on, Discord fixes me with a soul-piercing look that brings up a familiar feeling of dread the origin of which I can't place, like being looked at by predator unfathamobly more powerful than you, all the while having no way to run, nowhere to hide.

I look into his impossibly old eyes and scream as the infinite black abyss stares back at me, all of creation, life and death, heat and cold, light and dark, every moment of history, condensed into a single point right at its center. All of creation bursts out towards me in a disorienting cavalcade of shapes and colors, thoughts and dreams, concepts and spur of the moment descisions invade my mind, sweeping it away like a tidal wave.

But something refuses to let go.

I shut my eyes and backpedal until my back hints the cold crystal wall, my heartbeat overpowering all other sounds but for one.

Snapping and cracking of chitinous insect limbs.

The impatient gnawing of mandibles.

The otherwordly groan than weighs down your entire existence.

"I see my sister refuses to let you go." A voice reaches me through the hellish soundscape around me, as I dare not open my eyes. Discord tsks, tapping what I suspect are his claws across my scalp. "She was always awfully possessive, I suppose..." He sighs, retracting his claws. "I'd have hope she'd grown out of it by now, but some things never change, it seems."

Something grips my chin, and I feel hot breath on my face.

It smells like chocolate milk and cotton candy.

"I'll be frank with you, my boy. When I first noticed you all those years ago, I thought you'd make a hilarious prank, for both my sister and these little ponies." He begins in a serious voice, one that sounds unusually ominous coming from Discord.

"But I have to say, you surprised me." My breath hitches as I feel sharp claws scratching at my scalp. "You turned out to be worth far more than the initial appraisal." Pictures flash before my still closed eyes, pictures that I recognise, each and every one from an article I've written. "You're more apt at spreading chaos than I initially thought, so let me clear some things up." His voice turns steely as he forces my eyes open, and I can't help but look at the pools of yellow-red that stare into my soul.

"What you do in your spare time is no business of mine. Your motives, however righteous or vile do not interest me. Your fate, by and large, holds no importance to me. But there is one thing that does."

His fingers snap, and a familiar smell of ash and blood enters my nostrils.

"You lay a hoof on Fluttershy, and my sister's realm will look like heaven in comparison to what awaits you. Capiche?"

"Y-yeah." I croak, not able to ignore the myriad of hands grasping at my back.

"Glad to hear!" Discord's face changes within a moment, his cold, foreboding expression breaking into a wide smile. With a snap of his fingers the world around me returns to normal as I find myself breathing heavily on the cold crystal floor. I blink away the tears from my eyes, and when I'm calm enough to look around, the hall is empty.

I stand up and dust myself off, not really thinking about my actions. I approach the crystal door to Princess' office, tapping on it firmly. Seconds pass as I hear irritated muttering approach the other side of the door, the passage opening to reveal a decently tired and thoroughly miffed purple pony princess.

"Haven't Spike told you all I'm done for the-" She stops abruptly as she takes notice of my person, her tired eyes growing wide as dinnerplates for a moment. A hint of familiarity passes over her features, one that is quickly replaced by worry and pity.

"Are you feeling well?" She asks, ushering me into her office as I remain unresponsive, my movements almost mechanical as I take a seat on one of the, thankfully not crystal, chairs. I close my eyes for but a second, and when I open them a cup of hot tea and a bite of chocolate lays on a table in front of me.

I blink away the bleariness that lingers at the corners of my eyes and search for the reason of my arrival. Twilight Sparkle was currently sitting across the table from me, a worried expression on her face. Noticing my movement, she speaks up.

"Eat the chocolate, you'll feel better." She says with a small smile.

I do exactly as she says, the chocolate melting in my mouth as I wash it down with a cup of hot tea.

All I taste is ash.

"What happened to you?" She inquires, a mix of compassion and academic interest on her features. I open my mouth, and the words I say pour out of my mouth automatically.

"I was sent her by Ponyville Chronicles for an interview. I'm not feeling all too well right now." Is all I say.

"Oookaay..." She gets out of her chair and sits in front of me, taking a closer look at me.

She frowns as she looks me in the eyes.

"Have you met a certain draconequus as of late?"

"Can't say I have." I'm not sure what that word means.

"Right." She says, taking her seat at the table once more. "Do you have your questions written somewhere?" She asks, rubbing her eyes in an irritated manner.

"Yes." I grab a small blocknote from the confines of my jacket, rip a page with planned questions out of it and hand it to her.

She gives me an odd look but takes the paper nonetheless, skimming through its contents before putting into into her table.

"I'll be sure to write you a reply with all the answers you want, Mr-"

"Note." I interrupt her.

"Mr. Note. But as of now, I think it'd be best If you went home and got a good night's rest." She says with a small smile, taken aback by my intervention. "How does that sound?"

"Lovely." I remeber the potion Zecora gave me, and the promise of relieve that came with it. "That sounds lovely."

I vaguely remember my walk through the dimly lit streets of Ponyville, my encounter of Seabreeze and the bitter-tasting concoction washing down my throat as I hit the couch, senslesness claiming me at record pace.

I'm falling through the death and decay of the void, hitting the muddied ground hard with a noisy splat. Looking around I see dead vegetation and smell the rot permeating the premises all around me. Shacks made of rotten wood and old boats that ran aground surround me on all sides, forming a labyrinth of vile and disgust.

I wander the revolting maze for hours on end, my bipedal body growing weary with each step, until I finally stumble at the horror that's hidden at the labyrinth's center.

A bloodied, rusted metal hook hangs from a hoof-made wooden perch, the mere sight sparking a long-forgotten terror deep within me.

I scream as a figure made of flesh and mud springs from the ground in front of me, her sharp claws digging into my chest.

I black out as the figure picks me up, and begins to walk in the general directio nof the hook.

Author's Note

A dead fic brought to life? You bet your ass it is!

For anyone still interested in this, I've already got this story's rough draft to it's ending, so I won't abandon it this time!

Most likely.