Cold Sweat

by Pascoite

Rating: everyone
Tags: Dark, Horror, Fluttershy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1003

Fluttershy can’t awaken from her nightmare, if it even is a nightmare. Nopony knows predators and prey better than her, but she'd never truly felt like prey before. She only has to make it until morning.

Fluttershy can’t awaken from her nightmare, if it even is a nightmare. Nopony knows predators and prey better than her, but she'd never truly felt like prey before. She only has to make it until morning.

An entry in A Thousand Words Contest II

Reading by Wendigo Studios

Published 2023-07-24 23:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-07-24 23:50:00 UTC

Cold Sweat

Every hair on Fluttershy’s shoulder rang out with burning icy shards, the feeling creeping ever further down her back. So much didn’t make sense! How long had she remained sitting here? Hours? It seemed more like she’d just awoken.

Her cottage had gone especially black—no moonlight tonight, no Princess Luna, maybe not even on guard, if Fluttershy cried out for her.

It felt like fetid breath against her neck. What kind of creature could have sneaked in and lain in wait for her? What kind would want to? A timberwolf—no, it lacked the moldy stench.

She nearly jumped. Like the clang of a bell, a realization rang out. Nothing she’d heard, more like a memory, or… a dream? It had never blighted her ears, but the words lay firmly entrenched in her brain: “If you turn around, I will eat you.”

But why?

All the animals loved her! And Discord would never sink to a prank this cruel. Fluttershy began to tremble.

It would hear her. Maybe it hadn’t seen her yet. If she held perfectly still, it wouldn’t find her. The words in her head, though—it had talked! A creature that could talk, and not just because she understood its grunts, chirps, or whistles. It used words!

Her shaking worsened, and it wouldn’t take much more for it to become audible, to rattle the plate and fork she’d left lying on the side table, to reach that one floorboard that creaked incessantly.

But… it wasn’t completely dark. A glow-worm, sleeping on the hearth, radiated a fierce illumination. It had soaked up sunlight all day, now emitting a pure white ball that somehow never pierced the shadows, leaving one face of everything in stark view. She dared not move her head, but she rolled her eyes downward and clearly saw her muzzle and front hooves blanched in whiteness.

No, she had to be dreaming! Princess Luna, please come and help! Nocreature, not even from the wild Everfree, would threaten her like this. It couldn’t be real.

She just had to hold still. The fastest way to alert a predator is to move. Stay still, and it would leave, or Luna would arrive to banish it from her mind, offer Fluttershy a winged embrace, and stay with her until she calmed down and awoke.

Fluttershy gulped, and despite the chill, the air became terribly humid. Like a sauna, thick and stifling. A bead of sweat ran down, tickling her cheek, then another, out of her forelock and over her muzzle. The tingle, and if she could wipe it away, quickly, quietly, so nocreature would notice! A breath hitched in her throat, and she wrenched it closed—her stupid nose, it felt like she might sneeze! She desperately twisted her muzzle, just as another drip wound its way into the corner of her eye, its saltiness stinging.

It hadn’t seen her blinking. It wouldn’t know. She clenched her eyes shut, rolled them until the stinging abated.

When she opened them again, it would all change. Yes, she’d gotten caught in a dream, and she’d wake up in her cottage, sprawled on the couch in full daylight, and only sweet furry animals around her. But when had a dream included so much detail?

One eye cracked open.

She shook again, the darkness remaining wrapped around her like a straightjacket. Not an animal. Some kind of malicious spirit. Did it need darkness? Would it go away when the sun lit up the horizon? Yes, she could outlast it! How long—the clock’s ticking punctuated the silence. She strained her eyes as far left as she could, but the glow-worm’s werelight didn’t reach that far, and it appeared too blurry anyway. Maybe hours, maybe only minutes.

“If you see me, I will kill you.”

Again, she didn’t hear its words, but she remembered as clearly as if she had. Why her? She’d ask, but then she’d unquestionably have given her position away. What did it want?

If she did move, how quickly could it pounce? She could bolt for the kitchen, scream for help, and Harry would run in to save her. Anycreature confronted by a bear his size would think twice about it. Massive claws, brutal strength, and in no time, she’d have the beehive outside the window swarming to protect… no, not the bees. The poor dears only had one sting each before they died. She wouldn’t sacrifice them for her own safety. The wasps, then, in a nest across the yard.

Fluttershy gritted her teeth. Such a coward, relying on others to save her! Like any pony, she had a powerful buck. How close had it gotten? She swore she could feel its breath on her back, but then it did already know where she was! It only wanted to toy with her, playing with its prey like a cat. If she kicked hard, right now, drove it against the sofa, made it fall over backwards…

The candle sconce on the wall! In its reflective plate, she could make out the edge of her mane, warped by the hammered metal. Then right beside it: greenish yellow, a spot, m—maybe an eye?

She’d seen it! But not directly, and did it matter? Close by, a little to the right. She set her jaw. No cowards here, not her.

A deep breath in, ready to shriek for Harry and the wasps and anything with teeth, a leg tensed to kick as hard as she could, and ready, set—”Harry—!”

The clock chimed, and the sun lurched into view. But she’d already tipped her hand! She whirled around to—

Nothing.

Fluttershy let out the rest of her stored breath, then heaved for several more, her shuddering body wanting nothing else but to collapse on the ground. She’d imagined it, just the darkness playing tricks on her. She almost wanted to cry, but she’d tell Twilight all about it, and they’d share a good laugh, then more words, forced into her brain like an ice pick:

“But not today.”