Body of Lies

by Pascoite

Body of Lies

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Daring Do snagged her grappling hook on a beam near the ceiling and easily swung outside the sphinx’s reach. Formidable in size, though its bulk made it rather slow to react. Some riddle. She’d only heard half of it, and if she cared to give it a moment’s thought, she could have solved it. But who had time for that?

Behind it, a small passage led to the treasure chamber, and that monstrosity would never fit. Squeeze in there, and Daring would get away. Assuming she didn’t have to come back through here to get out, but her research showed a secret exit.

And like clockwork, she evaded the sphinx’s clumsy swipe and landed with a somersault into the narrow opening. A roar sounded, and then… a tremulous gasp?

“Do not evade my riddle!” it shouted in an oddly low-pitched voice. “You’ll suffer the worst curse of all!”

Not likely. Daring waved a dismissive hoof at it.

“When the countdown reaches zero, you’ll regret it!”


Daring stifled a yawn and put her pen down. Long day, and she’d barely gotten through the first few pages of novelizing her adventure, but writing with a sleep-clouded mind never produced anything useful. With a day that busy, it didn’t take much convincing to stop for now and get some sleep. She glanced over at the next empty page. Number 5.

After a second’s pause, she went into the washroom to brush her teeth. A few of the cotton swabs lying on the counter formed “IV.”

Really? Coincidental, but a bit on point. A five then a four? That was a stretch. Like that moldy sphinx could actually do anything.

A mouthful of minty spit later, she walked back into her room, and a pair of crescent moon earrings on the side table caught her eye. They looked a lot like a 3.

Okay, now things were starting to get creepy. Then the poster on her wall from the Daring Do 2 movie. She quickly closed the firefly lamp. If she couldn’t see anything, she couldn’t see numbers. Yeah. And then in the morning, she might need to have a talk with Twilight Sparkle.

The clock struck one. And she noticed the eye.

Daring had long since grown out of anything startling her. But that eye made her skin crawl. Yellowish, bloodshot, somehow luminous in the dark..

Whatever pony or monster thought they could take her, they’d soon learn. But it was on her like a shot.

It had no weight pressing her down, yet she couldn’t move. It merely cackled a sound of sand rushing over rock and breathed its stench onto her.

She coughed, gagged, closed her eyes tightly, and then the sight, still glowing as an afterimage in her mind. The bright eye, the dark pupil.

0.

She tried to screech, but her chest heaved, and the thing clawed at her skin. What had the sphinx sent after her? Too small to be the sphinx itself, and the sphinx couldn’t leave the tomb it guarded anyway. She broke free of the trance that held her motionless and rolled off the bed, but nothing felt right. She couldn’t get her balance, and her body felt heavy, bloated where the thing had scratched her.

The window! Her legs went numb, too slow to respond, and she couldn’t feel the cover on the lamp, but if she ripped down the drapes, the moonlight would flood in, reveal her attacker. Her whip hung on the wall; that would send the thing running with a few nasty welts.

Still that cackling, and she kicked at it but connected with nothing but cold mist.

If only she hadn’t chosen to live somewhere so remote, her neighbors would hear her screaming.

Then it slashed at her neck. Her throat swelled, her tongue bristled, her teeth gouged at her jaw. What kind of venom could do this? She just needed that whip, and then she could fight it off, get out of here.

Maybe she wouldn’t die.

At most, she managed to flail her legs at it, but nothing ever hit a solid target. She’d met enough supernatural creatures to know ghosts didn’t exist. Something should hurt it!

Then her left forehoof erupted, split in two, the hard material clunking hollowly on the floor, and what felt like short tentacles spurted from the stump. She gagged at the sensation and tried to cradle what must be a gaping wound against her side, but it jabbed into her ribs like needles.

Another hoof, a rear one this time, but then finally something useful! Her wings surged out from her shoulders, huge, filling the room. She flapped them hard, drove the thing back. If she couldn’t kick the mist, at least the wind kept it away. Another mighty wingstroke and she dove for the window, struggling to fit her swollen bulk through, but she at last broke free, half the wall crumbling behind her.

She couldn’t think! Her heavy body drooped, but her wings still carried her effortlessly. One look back, and that hateful eye peered at her from the wreck of… of what? Not her home. No, she felt her home pulling her from far away. The last of those hard shells confining her feet dropped off, and she flapped into the night.


A voice?

She awoke and blinked at the motes of sandy dust swirling in the air. A dark purple unicorn mare watched her, a cutie mark of gold coins on her flank. “I’m sorry,” the mare said, then trudged off as if going to a funeral.

Sorry?

She hadn’t even noticed the mare in time to ask her a riddle, so there would be no penalty. But one would come along. Besides defending her treasure with her life, the only desire she had was to catch someone with her riddle, and then she would be…?

The thought left her. She looked into one of the chamber’s dark corners, and a yellow eye watched, not so hateful now.