The clouded steel colored sky loomed over the empty streets of Maretime Bay, bits and pieces of the night's tapestry barely visible past the blanket of solid gray. Clip-clops reverberated through the adequately lit streets of the shore town, a fair contingent of ponies still roaming the dimly lit roads and alleyways of Maretime Bay, discussing the latest news in either cautious whispers, or agitated half-shouts, all the while hurrying to return to their homes before the night truly set in.

Amongst these tumultuous souls one stood out, oddly quiet and distant from any one crowd of ponies. His lethargic movements set him apart from everypony, the bags under his eyes and his washed-out complexion telling a story in and of themselves.

A story that everypony refused to believe.

It was unfair, downright criminal, even, to disregard his story as a hallucination induced by blunt head trauma. How dare they?! He, who stood guard over the city for all of his life, he who laid down everything to keep Maretime Bay safe, is now being labeled a lunatic?!

It made him feel so useless.

How couldn't they see that they're digging their own grave? Who's to say that whatever took Mary won't come back for more? Come back for him?

A shiver went down the stallion's spine at the memory, and he suddenly felt acutely alone. His thoughts drifted over to the upcoming evening, and an uncomfortable realization dawned on the Sheriff: He didn't want to spend the night alone. It was an utterly foalish thought, an absurd and ridiculous one, a thought any sensible adult would easily dismiss, yet the more Hitch thought of entering his house by his lonesome, the more uncomfortable he felt.

By the time he rounded another corner, he understood that he won't be coming home today. That left him with another question, namely Where was he going to stay the night?

MBPD's medbay was out of the question, no way in Tartarus he was going to bear all of his coworkers giving him that same pitied look. An errant drop of rain brought Hitch out of his musings, urging him to make his decision post haste, lest he wanted to be wet and lonely.

His eyes drifted to a distant light breaking through the heavy clouds, shifting as its source turned rhythmically, warding the approaching ships from sailing into the rocky shores. Surely, Sunny wouldn't mind him crashing at her place for the night? After all, she called him to stay the night not too long ago!

With his coat thoroughly soaked and his mind made, the Sheriff began his uphill trot towards the lighthouse, the rain intensifying as he went.

He stood on the porch, shaking as the cold seeped into his bones, his legs feeling numb. He knocked once, twice, three times. He called out the mare's name, only to receive a silence in reply. He pushed the wooden door, only for it to budge with a creak, a pitch-black interior of the lighthouse opening up to the stallion.

Hitch chanced a cautious look inside, squinting as the darkness refused to relent, no matter how much he tried to acclimatize his eyes to it. Hitch turned on his flashlight, admitting defeat as the darkness lazily parted under the scorching beam. His hoofsteps reverberated off the wooden walls of the lighthouse, breaking the eerie silence of the abode.

Hitch found himself oddly unnerved by the silence of the lighthouse, a moment of deliberation lending him the answer as to why it was so. The grandfather clock, whose ticking was usually loud enough to be heard from down the stairs, was uncharacteristically silent, sharing said trait with its owner.

Sunny must've heard him come in, right?

She was probably sleeping, it was a rather late hour, after all. Besides, Sunny's a pretty heavy sleeper, last Hitch remembered, anyway.

He walked up the stairs with slow and deliberate steps, noticing the staleness of the air around him in his concentration. It's a lighthouse, the air should be a little fresher, right? His questions were left unanswered. Maybe I'm overthinking this, it's been getting pretty cold these past few days...

He faced another pitch black corridor, ignoring the painting of a purple princess facing the stairs. It feels like it's watching me... Hate when artists do that... Parting the dark in front of him, Hitch noticed that all the doors connected to the corridor were closed, save for the farthest one, left ajar. A partially unfounded sense of unease washed over the stallion as he kept his eyes on the opening, slowly approaching it.

A somewhat foalish fear of the dark made an uncomfortable return as Hitch stood in trepidation, one hoofstep separating him from the precipice. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves and gathering his thoughts. Quit being such a pansy, there's nothing scary about this! Sunny didn't lock the door to her bedroom, what's the big deal? He blinked a map of the house appararing in his mind's eye. That's not her bedroom, it's a guest's bedroom. He chuckled to himself, his fears dashed away as the situation became clear to him.

She left a room open for me? How thoughtful.

Hitch took the final step over the precipice, walking into the room. The light crawled up the carpet floor, making its way through the room, guiding the Sheriff through the encroaching darkness.

Peach-colored coat faded into an impenetrable mass of black as the figure stood on its hind legs, everything from the flank down nigh indistinguishable from the surrounding darkness. It stood impossibly still, not a single muscle flexing as it loomed over something, its front hooves reaching the floor despite the figure's back being ramrod straight. A mass of coat, mane and void laid flat before the creature, shifting ever so slightly under the intruding light.

HItch suppressed a gasp as what he assumed to be the creature's shoulder spasmed in a hint of a half-turn. The stallion took a careful step back, reaching for his service weapon and aiming it at the creature.

Its neck elongated in an arc, an upside-down face of Sunny looking at the stallion with a completely unreadable expression. Its pupils were dilated despite the bright light reflecting off of them, strands of mane stuck to the fur on her face, unaffected by gravity. Its face twitched, entire portions of it moving ever so slightly, not bound by muscle groups or the elasticity of skin.

"You shouldn't be here."

The face moved out of sync with words, like a low-budget movie. A voice that resembled Sunny's grew high-pitched at the tail end of the sentence, the creature's left eye lazily drifting to look at the writhing mass in front of it.

"The place's a mess!" A completely different yet hauntingly familiar voice yelled from the creature's throat, followed by the noise of a hanged phone line.

"What are you!?" Hitch managed to ask, his mouth dry and eyes watering. "What did you do to Sunny!?"

The creature's face twisted into a mockery of a smile, an unnaturally wide grin revealing too many teeth.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you like that!" Its front legs twisted to take a step toward the stallion, Sunny's voice taking on a sickeningly sweet intonation. "Care for some tea?" Hitch watched in trepidation as the creature put one foot in front of the other, its impossibly stretchy body creeping closer.

A bead sweat ran down Hitch's forehead as his grip on the service weapon hardened, iron sights aimed directly at the creature's eerie smile. "Stop or I'll shoot!" A faint buzzing picked at the Sheriff's ears as the creature took another step further. "I said stay back!"

In a blink of an eye as the creature moved with a speed unbefitting its form, Hitch's body made the decision for him, the buzzing sound momentarily replaced by an intense ringing in his ears. The room illuminated for a split second as the creature's face caved in on itself, leaving a gaping black hole in its place.

A heavy silence fell over the room as the opponents stood still, each waiting for the other to break the surrounding stillness.

Hitch watched in horror as the darkness pooled and boiled, turning a faded orange hue as fur surfaced from the blackness of the creature's face. Two white orbs took their respective places on the thing's face, each both resembling that of a pony's, yet somehow wrong. Hitch didn't know whether it was the dilated pupils, the glassy, fish-like gleam in the creature's eyes, or the malicious yet gleeful look it was giving him, like it wanted him to see this, and was enjoying every moment of their encounter.

The creature stood on its hind legs, its forehoove digging into the clay-like flesh of its face, lips stretching into an impossibly wide smile, splitting its face from ear to ear.

Up to this moment, Hitch swore to do whatever was needed to take this thing down. He'd stand his ground, fire his weapon until his legs were sore and die if need be, just to make sure whatever this thing was never hurt anypony else.

But then it laughed.

It was a horrifying sound, raw and barking, it seeped into Hitch's mind, his very bones, reverberating off the walls of the empty lighthouse. In that moment, survival instinct kicked in, begging and pleading for Hitch to do only one thing.

Run

He galloped out the room, the harrowing laughter ceasing a moment later, only to be replaced by the all too rapid sound of hoofsteps. His head immediately turned to the stairs, only to see a vaguely equine shape, completely black despite the flashlight's illumination, its eyes boring into the Hitch, that same buzzing returning forcefully.

It crept into his ears, pain following it at every turn. It entered his mind, taking root as an annoying earworm you can't stop humming in a dream. His legs threatened to give under his own weight, pins and pinpricks running down them as he backpedaled away from the stairway, the sound of rapid hoofsteps coming from the open room forcing him to find another path.

His eyes watering, Hitch desperately searched for a way to escape this nightmare, salvation coming in the form of an ajar door at the end of the hallway, shrouded in darkness, but lacking the suffocating aura that surrounded him. Hitch stumbled as he ran, the hoofsteps behind him growing louder with each passing moment. The door slammed shut as the stallion barged into the room, last bits of strength Hitch had evaporating as he forced the latch shut, collapsing against the wooden barrier.

Hitch held his breath and listened for the sound of footsteps, each moment of silence painfully long.

His heart skipped a bit as a series of deliberate, careful knocks reverberated through the wooden surface, the vibration reaching his body.

Tap Tap Tap - Tap Tap Tap - Tap - Tap Tap - Tap Tap Tap Tap

Hitch rose from his sitting position as quietly as possible, backing away from the doorframe, his eyes glued to the door.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap

It took the stallion a herculean amount of self-control not to yelp or scream, not to lose what little control he had over his surroundings and give in to fear.

A suffocating silence crushed Hitch from all sides as he lowered himself onto the bed, his ears ringing, his body damp with cold sweat. He steadied his breath and did the only thing he could to keep the flimsy grasp on his sanity. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his own foreleg with enough force to break skin.

A metallic taste filled his mouth, reassuring Hitch of the reality of the situation he had found himself in. Cursing under his breath, Hitch reached for the walkie-talkie in an instinctive motion, the room filling with static as he switched the device on.

"This is Sheriff Hitch Trailblazer, I've got a 10-54, need backup at Starscout residence. Do you copy?" He waited with bated breath, but to no avail. He switched from channel to channel, receiving only silence in reply. “Sprout, I know you’re in there, answer dammit!”

He had to escape, escape and warn everypony. If whatever did... that to Sunny was allowed to roam free, there was no telling how much damage it could do to the community. As for Sunny... A shiver went down Hitch’s spine as he grit his teeth. He was going to kill that thing, if it was the last thing he did.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH”

The stallion flinched as a shrill laugh shook him to his core. The sheriff looked around the room in search of something, anything he could use to escape. He didn’t spare the door a glance, there was no way he’s seeing that thing again, not so soon. He approached the only window in the room, peeking out of it only to see a good two story fall underneath, a nearby tree possibly softening the blow if he could reach it.

“Hitch? Come out, silly! I just want to see-ee-ee you-ou-ou-ou~”

The stallion took a deep breath as he opened the window, feeling the wind rush through his mane, through the room and the tiny space below the door. In that moment the knocking returned with a vengeance, each following knock stronger than the previous one. With a heavy heart, Hitch prayed for a happy landing, and jumped.

Sprout yawned as his eyes lazily followed the hands of time. 3:33. He silently cursed Hitch, the stallion just had to give him the night shift, didn’t he? Grumbling to himself, Sprout stretched his limbs as he stood up from his office chair, concluding that, yes, the 10th cup of coffee was absolutely necessary! It was coming out of the department’s budget, after all.

Now, there was more to his initial unwillingness to go for a cup of coffee besides laziness. Sprout wouldn’t consider himself a cowardly pony, he was a stallion of law, after all! And yet, he always felt a little queasy every time he had to go to the break room, seeing as said room was on the first floor, all the while most of the offices resided on the second floor. Furthermore, to get to the break room one had to pass through the main entrance hall of the Department, which inevitably led to Sprout looking through the glass doors and freaking himself out.

This time, He thought. This time I’m not going to let some silly phobias get me! Tonight, I’m gonna-

SLAM

“AAAH!”

“SPROUT, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!”

Recovering from the near heart-attack, Sprout’s eyes drifted over the form of his boss and, ugh fine, friend, the stallion equally, if not more scared than he was.

“Hitch!? What are you...” He shook his head, fishing his saddlebags for the keys. “Nevermind, get in, it’s pouring out there!”

The sheriff practically flew into the building, snatching the keys from his subordinate and hurriedly locking the door, a shuddered breath of relief escaping his lips. In a blink of an eye, his disposition changed from fear to anger as he jabbed his hoof into Sprout’s chest.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been screaming into the walkie-talkie for a good ten minutes!”

“Whoah, back off! Every channel’s been silent since the start of my shift! I didn’t hear anything!”

Hitch mouth open and closed as he searched for a rebuttal before shaking his head. “Is every entrancer locked? Have you checked?”

“Y-yeah, I checked every hour, why?”

Hitch bit his lip, looking at a nearby wall-mounted clock. “Sunrise is a couple of hours away. We wait for that, and then... Then we make a run for it.”

Sprout raised an eyebrow, not understanding a single word Hitch said.

“Wuh- my shift ends at 9am, and besides, why do we have to run?!”

Hitch sighed, motioning Sprout to follow him. “I’ll tell you everything at the CCTV station.”

A pit formed in Sprout’s stomach. Somehow, he would’ve preferred the usual spook to this.

Author's Note

IT’S ALIVE!