Crescentic Nightmare Moon
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Leo Tolstoy
An eternity in the cold dark. A distant surface above.
𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 shone defiant; the 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 were glistening on ripples.
Her dark wings dragged her to the depths.
The rays of moonlight pierced the calm around her.
The stillness... The desire to give in... She wanted to become one with the dark. She let it in. Treacherous cold burned her from inside, and fear surged. Her body twisted in pain. She clutched herself and curled up, 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.
"..."
The animal was grotesque. Something bright kept rolling and falling from its obscenely long tongue, thrown over the fangs. When it kept reaching the tip of the tongue, it was colored red.
A being with a motherly face helped to tuck her in. It embraced her and pulled her close. It lifted her head, rested it against an exposed soft breast, and then whispered just above her ear, "When the fighting dies down and the quiet darkness comes, the bloodied Moon will shine like a bright red Sun. Do not be belied by this sight: it is a demand for a drastic change. It means that we have defiled our paradise—the lands that surround us.
"𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 you will 𝚜𝚎𝚎."
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⠀⠀⠀There was a time...⠀⠀⠀
When suffering was manageable.⠀⠀⠀
Luna made sure that the work would be thorough. The mouths of both nightlings were stitched with a rough and thick thread, bounding their lips and the gums of their teeth. With the alicorn following, they dragged a filly locked between them down to a black surface viscous like tar.
"We must," Luna demanded.
Down the slope. Down to the depths. The filly's incomprehensible cries became high pitched as she thrashed between bodies.
"You have to go. Now move!" Luna hurried them.
Both trembled like they had received a lash.
"We must," Luna repeated. "Hold her legs!"
Sensing impending doom, the filly twisted in a last desperate attempt to escape, but there was no room for compassion. She's not the first; she won't be the last, and when the night ponies stepped into the water, her cries became muffled gurgles.
Luna took a deep breath, following. She couldn't get away, even if she wanted to.
Her striking step against the rock left barely any noise. She ventured gingerly forward, until 𝚑𝚎𝚛 figure weaved itself from the shadows. She already knew how this song and dance would go, but something still moved her to stop and utter in disgust, "You."
"Me," Chrysalis mocked, mirroring her stance.
"Came for more?"
A teal ray blasted from Luna's horn, and Chrysalis tumbled from the strike, being pushed to the cave wall. Immediately, she tucked her limbs and took off into the air, laughing. "Chase me!"
And Luna chased. They rushed one after the other through the tunnel and jagged rocks, between stalagmites rising like fingers about to be closed, through the ice-filled barren lands, and the castle ruins, and the head-spinning dark. The shapeshifting witch turned mid-flight, intending to attack, but Luna was faster, landing another hit into her chest.
She fell like 𝚑𝚎𝚛. Her scream sounded like 𝚑𝚎𝚛s. It brought her
𝚓 𝚘 𝚢.
Chrysalis fell in a spacious cavern with walls covered by a glassy surface, and Luna was on top of her in a heartbeat. Luna slammed her silvery hoof, and heard a wet crack of her enemy's skull. Chrysalis' forelegs, raised in helpless protest, twitched.
She brought it down again and again, quickly covering the ground in blood, bone fragments, and brain matter.
She howled a victory cry, and saw distorted shades moving all around her.
"Thieves..." Luna accused, launching another blast.
"Liars!" she growled.
"Betrayers!" she yelled, and saw another reflection of herself.
"Traitors?..." her voice echoed through the cavern, and roaring laughter came from all around.
"Be silent!" Luna demanded, her horn surging with energy. One of many mirrors before her shattered, and behind it she saw Onyx Star. He fell clumsily, trying to shield himself from her wrath with an outstretched foreleg. A bloodied sack was at his side; an entrance of a well was behind him. The thread on his mouth was cut but still hung, too deeply woven into the flesh.
"I ain't a traitor..." he protested pitifully. "How could I ever betray someone I never loved?"
Luna moved closer, but from a dim and cracked surface, an image of her sister looked back. This sight stopped her.
"████ ████████." Celestia's dark lips formed a most cruel smile: a kind one. "The absence of agency can be likened to an auspice of salvation, therefore why worry about things that are outside of your influence?"
"I have children to look after," said Luna, glowering. "Begone."
"Oh." Celestia's muzzle fell. "I am sorry. Am I bothering you? I can always come back later..."
Luna couldn't hold back her disdain. "'Twas always fascinating to me how you were the closest thing I had to a mother."
"I am glad you enjoyed it," riposted Celestia, still full of poxy kindness. Her concerned eyes examined Luna's expression, and she added, "But it's quite alright, since you are not the only one who views me like that. It's not like we get to choose such things, either."
"No. We do not," generously acknowledged Luna despite a pang of jealousy. Their relationship was supposed to be a special one.
"Listen," said Celestia, and Luna's ears perked up. "We may be separated, but in one way or another, we are always together, waiting for the other to get to the end of the road."
"That is..." Luna stumbled, searching for words. "It seems..."
"Observe." Celestia turned her head and raised a bright wing. "Here comes the tide."
Myriads of small, colorless shapes poured into the cavern.
"Aren't they gorgeous?" murmured Celestia.
Moths? No—Luna saw an endless stream of night butterflies that swarmed everything in sight. Some of them were plunging under her hooves, quickly covering the stone floor with a writhing living carpet. Luna recoiled and heard a distinct crunch.
"This... Those are not... Sister?" called Luna, but Celestia was nowhere to be seen. "You'd never—"
𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕.
No.
Not again.
She could swear she heard a treacherous voice emerging through the rustling of thousands of little wings.
𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕.
Is this... me?... Did she talk about me? Do they...
I am afraid of finding out.
𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕.
I cannot!
I cannot. I cannot! I simply cannot!
"Innocence is not foolishness!" she heard her own voice, loud and proud, bursting with righteousness. "To wholly believe that everyone has good in them is not wrong!"
'This old song of yore,' an ugly, unbecoming thought came to her.
"Think you deserve a family? Why?"
"Don't everyone deserve one?"
"Why are you here?"
"I... I am not..."
"Who do you think you are?"
"What kind of question is that?..."
...against the skin.
"What is on your mind?"
...a part of the forest...
"The Princess of vagabonds and varmints."
"The inertia of our movement had led us here, at the starting point."
"This momentum, this impulse, is everything."
"But you were in a freefall almost all your life."
"Do you think you even deserve to have wings?"
"I couldn't done anything different..."
"Peek through the eye of a needle. See the storm, raging."
A slight 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎...
"Your presence disturbs the sanctity of this garden."
"I destroy everything I touch..."
"What is better, to notice you've changed or to remain oblivious to it?"
"All that I ever achieved..."
"Hatred is a hard work."
"I agree," she said, following the voices.
"The shadows will swallow us whole."
"You think that there is anything—any thing that can make the pain go away?"
"𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚕𝚢."
The barrage of voices was becoming bothersome.
"No more!" Luna yelled. "We are the architects of our own fate!"
The swirling current stirred and birthed hundreds of misty shapes that crept around her, clinging to her coat and grasping at her mane and tail. Their cold ran through her veins, through her sinews, orifices, and eyes. Someone childlike whipped forehooves around Luna's neck, and the muzzle before her eyes brought back stark memories.
"When will the winter come?" Ginger Lime asked.
Luna was flat, a cold stone under her barrel. She couldn't remember when she fell... She tried to gasp, but there was no air, there was nothing around. "Why!?..." she squeezed out through the sheer force of will.
"They reached the verdict without a proper trial."
"'Tis how it always worked. We tried to find another way to solve it, but we lacked proper equity..." Luna's voice, already weak, trailed off completely.
"Do such excuses help you keep peace with yourself?" Lime was holding on strongly.
"I never should have made a promise to you..." Luna muttered. "The future can never be guaranteed."
Still in the midst of uncertainty, Luna scrambled herself up. Everything blurred before her eyes, and a sharp pain twisted in her side. She instinctively grasped at it, and liquid trickled down her flank and leg. Alarmed, Luna tried to investigate.
There was a leak.
More hot black splattered down. In a stupor, Luna turned around while trying to maintain pressure. With abject terror, she sensed something slimy in the tear and then pulled from it dark, gory tendrils of flesh. She lurched toward the wall, unable to believe what was happening.
She tried to move and almost slipped on the slick, dark blood. 'I need help,' a thought came to her, cold and calculated.
Luna pushed her shoulder against the wall and made a few shambling steps along it. The trail was following her, and with it, the cold.
"Somepony?" Luna called. "Somep-somebody? Someone? Anyone!?"
The blackness was overwhelming. Her heart defiantly drummed in her temples. She trudged on for what felt like ages, but when she glanced back, she saw that she had conquered no distance at all.
Last sliver of strength leaving her, Luna slumped down, still unable to comprehend how it could happen to her.
⠀
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"Show me your silver sheen, you patient, salient thrall."
"..."
"When there's no one to observe me, I can be true to myself."
"You must mean you are free to be ugly and rotten?" Luna confronted.
"Everything decays."
"I do not have to listen to this..."
"Then don't."
"Wait!—"
"𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜."
"M-m? Ah, here you are!" Celestia chimed. "My dear, you are a mess!"
"What!? Wh—" Luna sputtered in disbelief and angrily grimaced. She was covered in wet grime, pathetic, and small. Incomparable. "How dare you... Do you enjoy my misery!? Have you come back because of that!?"
Meeting no resistance, she pushed herself off the ground and stood tall, but not tall enough, as usual.
"How dare you!! I am the Princess of the Night!" her voice rang in her ears. "Doth this title means nothing to you!? How can you treat me like this!?"
Her radiant Sister kept powdering herself, humming frivolously, washed by a trembling light of a candle.
Bewilderment kept building up inside Luna, and with it, resentment. "What are you busy with?" she asked gruffly.
With barely parted lips, Celestia was carefully putting on a sharp black eyeliner.
"I demand you answer me!!"
In a dainty motion, Celestia adjusted the skin-tight masquerade mask that was framing her lavender eyes and only then gave Luna a look full of hurt innocence. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked, subduing an irritated sigh (Luna saw it).
Like always, Luna was highly inadequate in her sister's presence. "Are you kidding?" she challenged, pushing past this intrusive feeling. "Is this all a mockery to you?"
"Of course not, Sister," replied Celestia (she meant exactly opposite). "I am getting ready, and you should be too."
"For what, exactly?" Luna asked suspiciously.
Celestia opened her mouth, and insects overflowed down her chin.
Aghast, Luna shuffled back, deeply disturbed. "You were always like this. Always! You were never on my side when it mattered!! You never listened to me! You are a fraud! A fraud!"
Celestia kept talking, but only bugs were coming out—beetles, small roaches, and mayflies that were taking off almost instantly. They lived inside her, turning her into nothing more than a skin that was borrowed for a ride.
Then, someone tugged Luna on the mane so hard that she almost lost her balance.
"What!?" She whipped around. "Who—"
"Remember what you said about strength and weakness?"
"Let go of me!" Luna demanded, wrestling her mane from the grasp. "Get off!"
"Everything around you is someone's endless dream, but is there an end to your naivety? Oh-h-h, little Lulu, are you going to complain again?"
"Are you going to cry again?"
"Will you come running again?"
"Those days are in the long past! I am far beyond it!" Luna objected, reeling from the strongest deja vu.
"Let me kiss your eyes. It is okay to fall. There are always more room to go
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⠀
An eternity in the cold dark. A distant surface above...
'Stop it!'
Luna broke free from the treacherous lullaby and feverishly worked her legs, trying to reach the invisible surface.
'I need to act now. I must. While there is still time, there is—'
One final push and strain of muscles, and she gasped for sweet air. The merciless waves rocked her, each one a threat to pull her back. She was barely able to keep afloat.
'I can't perish like this.'
The shooting stars smeared through the pitch-black, and Luna tried to follow. She kicked her legs until she finally felt rocks. She dragged herself to the shore, barely alive.
What she perceived as stars were fireflies, crawling all over something nearby. Luna closed in, and they scattered, revealing the body of a white winged mare. She recalled the exact same sight.
Celestia was a pile of dead flesh with a gaping, dark wound. A wicked flame had scorched most of the chest cavity, and now elements were chiseling away the rest. The rigor mortis had already stiffened her features in an unnatural, contorted pose.
"What have you done to yourself?" Luna said, staring with scorn bordering on contempt.
"What have you done to us!?" Luna demanded. "How could you?..."
"How did it all come to this?" Luna asked in fruitless anger.
"How..." Luna hung her head.
Luna buried her muzzle into a fetlock, weeping and sniffing loudly, tasting the salt of her tears.
"We were supposed to look out for each other..."
They kept streaming...
She snapped spontaneously, "You've written me out, you've abandoned me, Sister!! How could you!? How could you leave me alone!? How could you rob me of my life?... Everyone moved on... Even the shapes of our hearts are no longer the same..."
She couldn't cry forever, and the well of her tears dried up fast.
Her shoulders still shuddered from phantom sobs when she uttered, "It is 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢our 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝. You've brought this on yourself."
Gradually, she began to calm down.
"You 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎d this."
Taking deep and erratic breaths, she pressed her forehoof at her dark breastplate.
"I 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎d to win. I 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 to be 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗. I 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 to be 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍."
She loudly exhaled through her nostrils.
"I can be 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. I can do it 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. I can be 𝚖𝚎."
It was over, and Luna allowed herself to bask in the feeling of a task well done. Everything was turning out great, and now, to the victor belonged the spoils!
"Vae victae!" Luna's dark wings burst open; she bared her fangs in an avid snarl. "All my duties to you are fulfilled!"
A movement from the corpse caught her attention—a subtle breath, a final trick of the light, perhaps. It was a proper, solid cadaver, but still, she was not about to allow second chances.
"𝚈ou 𝚜till 𝚋reathe?" Luna inquired, disappointed but curious about the fact. It was evident that at the moment Celestia lacked a set of lungs.
Her eternal tormentor stiffly turned her head, and her blank gaze went above Luna's head to the sky. It was like a final surge of lucidity before passing away. Some cling to their immortality too hard, it seems.
Celestia's blackened lips, covered by a crust of dried blood, moved. Luna leaned to her, wondering what parting secrets she'd be willing to spill.
Celestia's voice was unfamiliar, drained of all vigor and energy.
"Love is a murder of your old self... You can't go back. You can't... You can't turn back the time... You can't undo the sacrifice."
Everything began to peel away from Celestia, baring the rotten truth. Drenched in the putrid odor, Luna tried to suppress the urge to vomit. Celestia's skin was quickly covered in dark spots oozing with liquid, and in mere seconds, the flesh and muscles bloated under Luna's forehooves and went loose from the bones.
Luna forced herself to not turn away and to keep drinking up the overwhelming vapors of Celestia's ichor. When it became unbearable, she withheld her breath and pushed her lips against the sister's grinning skull. She filled the contours of a rapidly decaying body with her own and endured until there was nothing but a skeleton to mutely judge her of sororicide, and only after that did she pull away to be met with the darkness of the vacant eye sockets.
"The proper murder takes two," said Luna. "You are the only one I could ever rely on with it, big sister."
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☉
Her hand was thin and grabby, like a raven's claw. She leaned against the wooden door, waiting while an uncontrollable shiver quaked her feverish body. 'I must be ill, but it is okay. My pain will strengthen my resolve.'
She reached for the stitches. She wanted to scratch them like hell. 'I should probably stop doing this... Maybe for one last time...'
She restrained herself. 'Indulgence is for the weak.' Wistfully smiling, she clenched the doorknob tighter. 'I should be better than this... Oh, I'm beginning to sound like my snooty sis. That busybody—'
"Celine. Are you leaving to take the stage?"
Startled, Celine turned to the voice that was coming from the painting on the opposite wall. It depicted a woman sagging in a rich leather armchair, with theater binoculars raised to her eye level. She was giving off the impression of a ragged scarecrow with loose strands of grayed-out hair. Her eyes were concealed further by a pair of dark-tinted glasses.
"You scared me!" Celine droned with an accusing glare, sheepishly fixing it on a beauty mark in the corner of Lady L's mouth. She quietly cleared her throat, straightened her back, and removed fingernails from the palm of her clenched fist. "...I asked you to not call me that."
"Your name does not matter in the woods. They will strangle you all the same," replied Lady.
Celine rubbed her neck, already imagining the grip.
"You will be caught by them like a fly in the cobweb," Lady's finger tapped on the armchair in rhythm with her next words, "that is waiting for a spider to come crawling out."
Celine turned away and pressed her forehead against the cold wood. It didn't help with the headache at all.
A sudden thud and roll made her jolt. She glanced aside at the source and saw a crystal 8-ball stop at her feet. White letters flared from its surface:
FAIT ACCOMPLI.
'She's such an unbelievably cryptic ass.' Celine winced. "You're full of horseshit. I'm going."
Celine stepped outside, slammed the door behind her, and warily glanced at the unfamiliar skyline.
Lady Lustmord did not lie. Instead of leaves, on the bare branches of the gray autumn trees were severed hands, that, disturbed by the uneven breath of the wind, stroked across the bright crimson Moon.
Author's Note
