`“...”

“Please. Tell me what my dream means again….”

sigh

”I know what it means because it’s related to a story I know. One I was a part of and have since tried to forget.

I can’t remember exactly when it started, but I do remember the day ‘he’ was assigned to me. From that day on, we would have this mutual understanding and respect for one another, and our friendship would blossom. All of that…undone by the discovery. Something I had unintentionally learned and did not expect….

Not from him.

My outlook on the pony changed once I had found what he had been up to behind closed doors.”`

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My day started earlier than usual, even before the sun came up. It was quiet and uneventful, to say the least. I had been perusing Equestria’s old capital for ten minutes before coming across an old building.

The ivy that enveloped it showed that it had been abandoned for a long, long time. The decay it showed was evident by its cracked foundation and missing bricks. As I walked up to the house, the building's old number, 0123, was etched into the wall beside the door.

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”I’ve left a list of numbers there. In due time, you will know what all of them mean with the help of the watch. And remember, keep everything I give you. They’ll be your clues.”

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“Old man,” I said under my breath, “you've shoved a giant thorn through my head since you said those words. So now, I’m ripping it out.”

I walked up the tiny broken staircase and stood before the door, or what used to be of it. Now, boarded up by planks of wood and sealed shut, whatever was in here had to be unquestionably valuable.

Right?

The watch on my wrist activated at my command, and seconds later, the entrance to the chamber of secrets was slashed open by the thick, iron blades from the Ax of Orichalcum.

“A house of forlorn memories?” I inquired under my breath as I peered into the dark house.

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”I had a friend there. Once. He was considered my first-ever friend in Equestria and one of the best ponies in the Royal Guard. Nowadays, I like to believe that he retired on his own terms like I will one day.”

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Stepping through the doorway into what looked like an empty living room, I took note of my surroundings. It was a tranquil and nearly dark place, save for the light pouring in through the open wound I had created at the entrance.

The living space had been untouched, evidenced by the thick blanket of dust coating the furniture. But, conversely, the doormat at my feet was worn down quite a bit.

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”The basement is meant to be sealed off for good. I made sure of that, painting over it in crimson red. Nocreature should ever enter that tomb and experience what I have witnessed. The memory will forever be burned in my brain, so under no stupid or unreasonable excuse should anycreature ever descend into the darkness.”

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It was an oddly specific line to include in the notes. Why exactly is nocreature meant to explore this place? I thought to myself. What lies beneath the surface?

Since those days have come to pass, I decided I had had enough of living in curiosity’s shadow. Turning on the flashlight accessory on my watch, I walked past the kitchen area and headed toward the back hallway. At the end of it, a crimson-red door stood tall. It was undoubtedly the entrance to whatever tomb the author had referred to.

“Time to see what’s so important about this door,” I told myself with a smirk.

As I reached for the door handle, grasping it in my hand, a shiver ran down my spine. It's cold. Too cold, I thought. Attempting to turn it, it wouldn’t budge. Locked up tight.

sigh “Well, so much for preservation,” I said aloud to no one. Immediately whipping out my ax again, I swung it at the door once. A clean slash down the middle severed the red door in two, and from there, I stepped through.

Unfortunately, I neglected to notice that as I did so, the paint that had been used to mark this door hadn’t…dried up. Instead, the crimson paint slathered my jacket’s sleeves, prompting me to peer back at the door.

What the hell? I thought before the first oddity of the day was saved as a memory. The door’s color started to lose its hue, with the red matter seeping from the wooden frame. A paint line raced toward the bottom and claimed my attention before dripping onto the floorboard below.

“Weird,” I said under my breath. “I thought that paint usually dries up over time. Especially after a ‘long time.’”

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”That place’s mere existence has caused me so much mental pain that I cannot venture into it again. And I hope that you will do the right thing once you find it. Heed my warning…”

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As I turned and went down the dimly lit staircase, anticipation built up inside me, and my thoughts ran wild. What is he hiding? Why didn’t he want anycreature to find out about this place? How is it that he knows of the legend? When and where did it all start?...Who is ‘he?’

When I reached the bottom, I felt for and flicked the light switch up. The lights, surprisingly, came to life and showed me the darkness’s secrets.

What greeted me was a reasonably normal-looking basement. It was tidy and clean. To the left corner of the spacious area were a giant tub of water, a box of cleaning supplies, and a washboard. Next to it were these hooks to hang garments on and a string line with clothespins clasped on it.

In front of it, closer to my left, was an enormous couch and a pool table. I scratched my head and was left dumbfounded. How the hell could anycreature get this down here, I thought to myself. Did he bring it in pieces? That seemed like the only logical conclusion I could’ve come up with at that point, so my attention slowly drifted to the right side of the basement.

A large rug was placed on the ground, with the worn marks of pony hooves decorating it. A desk chair and table were at the center of it. I walked up to it and placed my hand on the old chair. Then, freely spinning it around, I let it swivel and coast to a stop before turning my attention to the desk.

It was a lovely desk. Clean and polished, as if it had not seen much wear and tear over the years. Folders were neatly stacked on the right side of it, a couple of quills and scrolls sprawled across the center, complete with an inkwell and desk lamp on the left. I flipped the desk lamp switch to turn it on, but it didn’t respond.

“Dead bulb,” I remarked, shaking my head. “Figures….”

That’s when the wall caught my eye. I walked around the desk and stared at it. What greeted me were tons of newspapers, articles, and headlines tacked onto the wall.

Headlines about these many events that had been happening throughout Equestria involving dangerous creatures. Reports detailing witness accounts. Newspaper photographs documenting who was involved. The dates on those didn’t matter to me. Instead, it was what was in every last one of those pictures. A lone creature stood out to me amongst all the papers.

It was a creature I knew of. One whose name I knew of.

“Hmph,” I crossed my arms and looked back at the picture. “There you are….”

My attention then shifted to one in particular. In the middle of the collage was a singular photo. A photograph of the same creature next to what appeared to be a guard pony. The guard was in uniform and stood at attention, while the other creature was dressed from head to toe in all black. He wore a tuxedo suit, pants, polished black shoes, and neatly combed hair. Both donned medals and wore these warm smiles.

My breath started to shake, and the memories of those days long ago poured back. A tear formed in my eye as I did my best not to let it drop. Fuck, I thought as I wiped it away. Why? Why did you do this to me?

A singular box stared back at me as I looked to my right. It was closed, taped up, with the words DO NOT OPEN!! plastered all over it. And when I mean by plastered, I mean scribbled erratically to the point where the box’s dull color was barely discernible.

“Somebody really doesn’t want the contents of this box to be seen,” I said, chuckling to myself. I shook my head and looked at the desk again. “I guess I should leave it alo-”

I ran to the box and snatched it right up off the ground. Then, walking back over to the desk, I cleared the entire table of all its belongings and gently placed the box down in the center of it. I ran my hands over the cardboard exterior, examining the heavily taped sides. The one singular line of tape straight down the middle was all I would need to sever.

Retrieving my pocket knife from my back pocket, I flicked the sharp metal blade out and brought it to the edge of the left side of the box. One swift dash across and the top flaps were opened.

“What are you hiding from me, Mister?” I said before opening the box.

I looked into the box with a broad and joyous smile before it switched to shock. The package was filled to the brim with…envelopes?

“Whaaat?” I said quietly. I picked up one of the envelopes and examined it. They appeared to have been already opened, with the exterior flap slightly curved and tucked neatly inside. As I placed the envelope down and investigated the contents of the box, I realized they ALL had something in common: each one was numbered.

I scratched my head in confusion, thinking to myself for a second. Why, though? Why go through all this trouble to protect some envelopes? Wh-What could they be hiding?

“Welp, might as well start with you then,” I said, holding up an envelope with the number ONE written on it.

And no, not the numerical version. It was the actual word.

Taking the back flap out, a piece of paper lay dormant inside its interior. As I brought out the neatly folded letter, a note slid out and floated to the floor below. Turning my head towards it, I bent down, picked it up, unfolded it, and read it silently.

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“To whom this letter may concern.

Greetings. It may seem stupid for me to be writing this, but you are not the first creature to happen upon this box. Disappointing, sure, but be warned. The contents of these letters are not for the faint of heart. I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience after reading these letters.”

That’s not comforting at all, I thought before continuing.

“Unfortunately, the original scrolls have been lost to the sands of time due to degradation. So, I have taken the liberty of copying, word for word, what was written in those letters.

Before you ask, yes, I have read them all…and, yes, those are my tears you might find stained on some of them. Even while writing them out, I could not bear to contain MY emotions.”

“This creature is serious, whoever he was,” I said to myself as I began to pace back and forth.

“I pray that nocreature will have to experience what I have experienced from reading and writing these letters. The burden is too much for anycreature to bear.

Please, whoever you may be, do me one favor. I have tried to forget about this place, but I believe it will forever be burned into my mind, and thus, I could not take the responsibility into my own hands to destroy these letters.

After you discover this box, immediately BURN the contents of that place.

Please, do not attempt to read them.”

“Do not read them?” I asked myself, stopping in place. “Why not? What are they hiding?” I read the last few sentences to myself silently.

“These letters must NOT be taken out of this room, whether by physical or mental movement. Leave the demon to his demons, and let this pony’s poor soul rest.”

My hands started to shake as the note fell from my hands. I trembled in fear as questions swirled in my mind. Why do they need to be burned? How will I be affected emotionally by them? But, most importantly, what are the contents of those letters?

The note underneath my feet had left the bottom exposed.

“Out of respect for the pony I once called a friend.

Alex.”

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I shuddered at the thought as the words left my mouth.

“It can’t be…n-n-no,” I trembled while shaking my head. I turned towards the desk where the box was currently sitting. It was taunting me now, inviting me to sit and join it.

I…I c-can’t resist the urge. I'm intrigued to know what these letters contain now, my mind told itself. I need to know what exactly happened here long ago.

That last thought pushed me to ignore the ample warning. My mind had already been made up, and I wasn’t going to let it go.

Grabbing the chair and taking a seat at the desk, I grabbed the paper in front of me, unfolded it, and began to read the first letter.

Author's Note

There's the first prologue! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Took me a while to figure out how I wanted to structure this story.
No, this is not a "Choose Your Adventure" kind of story...
Yes, you read that correctly. He's going to read them...

"He's making a big mistake by not doing what I asked him to do...."

Ssshh.

-Harpy