//------------------------------//
// And There is No Tomorrow 
// Story: Apparition Amphitheater Presents: My Heaven is Your Hell 
// by Nightmare_0mega 
//------------------------------//

It was oddly calm out in the middle of that dreary, dead forest. The tall, spindly, naked trees stood against the backdrop of the sky like spikes in a cave or claws reaching as high as possible. Not a single leaf rustled, and not a whisper of the winds were heard. The Moon hung in the sky, full and majestic as always, casting everything in a silvery highlight, as the stars twinkled in their strange, alien patterns. The inky blackness of the sky was deep, with a curious empty longing seemingly felt far within its vast infinite. The contrast of the shining moon, the glittering stars, and the hollow void all around made for a profoundly sublime, and somewhat sad, image of beauty.

It was enough for the master of the amphitheater, which sat at the heart of this forest, to exit the confines of his home in order to gaze into the cosmos, deep in reflection and wonder. His eyes peered out from his half skull mask, gaze unbothered by the messy brown hair that sat motionless in the still of the night. His sharp, cloven hands hung relaxed and calm at his sides, careful not to let the barbed wire that wrapped his forearms to snag against his grey hoodie or his grey jeans. He could feel the cold of the nail's head, which poked through the skull like some makeshift unicorn horn, gently rub his forehead beneath the surface in an oddly soothing way. Nothing at all bothered him while he kept his eyes to the heavens, letting him feel comfortably and certainly alone. All he ever truly knew was his world around him, and that's all he ever needed to know for certain. Sure, he ALSO knew there were worlds outside of his own, just as they had the chance to somehow leak into his humble dwellings for a surprise visit, but he never bothered to want to investigate on his own accord. Maybe one day, but from then in those long years to now, he was content.

His attention suddenly shifted, as he looked towards eye level, as if spotting an interloper.

Ah, greetings. I believed I was alone tonight, but I suppose that time of year has finally come once again, hasn't it?

The entity gave a small chuckle, crossing his arms ever so gently. How could he forget that despite his solitude, he still had the phantom audience? His thoughts of certainly being alone feeling so firm in his mind, only to be utterly proven wrong at such a self reflective moment.

I am Wrath B. Forgivness, and welcome back to my humble realm.

His attention shifted back towards the darkness and light above him, as if he couldn't help but indulge himself while he had a job to perform.

It's marvelous, isn't it? The vast darkness that can hold such light so clearly? The same can be said in the reverse order, but I've always found it more profound this way. To have a state that seems so overwhelmingly bleak if on it's own, but becomes something so much more once it has had that bit of hope sprinkled in. It's why I love to tell horror stories. They may not always have a happy ending, but they always have a certain strange charm to them that few other stories can tell. It isn't always about good versus evil, about survival, or about lingering regrets and sentiments. Sometimes, there can simply be an admiration. An admiration for the dark. Though, I wonder? Can the dark admire back. What if it could? How would it approach the fixation of the light. I suppose that no matter how much it could admire it, it would be in danger of fading away upon touching it. After all, while it can tolerate the moon and stars, it cannot abide the sun's all powerful morning rays.

His attention snapped back to the audience, holding his index claw aloft to conduct attention.

Just for a moment, though, what if the darkness tried, knowing the risk? Well, I suppose we could have a story called:


My Heaven is Your Hell



-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-


She woke up with a sudden gasp, ripping away from the bed sheets that once wound her like a cocoon. Her already electric cyan and cobalt blue unkempt mane was a tad more messy, her magenta eyes took on a darker, redder tint from the bloodshot, tired nature, and her yellowish white coat felt like it lost some luster. With a heavy sigh, she lit her horn up and tossed the rest of the covers from her form and trudged to the nearby bathroom, where she quickly checked herself, giving her mane a quick rinse, before returning to her room to fetch her purple shades with the black rims. She always enjoyed wearing shades, even indoors, but it had only been recently that she needed them to hide the excess redness of her eyes, as well as the dark circles that sat below. She gave a deep yawn, still feeling the effects of the night, only accepting the slight inconvenience it brought as more of a relaxed reassurance of peace.

"Vinyl, breakfast is ready!" a familiar voice called from the dining room. Her belly rumbled ever so slightly from the mentioning of food, and so she followed the orders down to the kitchen to find Octavia Melody, already plating a set of pancakes for the two of them, careful to keep her long, dark grey mane away from the sticky morning meal and her light grey coat tidy. Trudging to her own seat, Vinyl eyed her stack of flapjacks for a moment, before pouring the entirely unnecessary yet suitable amount of syrup upon the already sweet cake, before sprinkling some extra icing sugar on top, then grabbing a single cherry from the fruit bowl and placing it at the top and center. When she did, she realized she missed a step, right before remembering they had run out of whipped cream a couple of days ago.

"Sorry, I haven't been able to do any shopping. I know how you like your whipped cream. Though, I dare say you could use a little LESS sugar in your diet," Octavia stated in her posh and polite accent, starting to chide the pony across the table from her as she sat down to her own stack, "So, maybe this is a good thing." With gentle precision of years of practice from her occupation as a cellist and violinist, among other classical instruments, she cut through the fluffy cakes and daintily ate from the fork. After patting her mouth to keep herself as proper looking as possible, she continued to speak. "Also, you really shouldn't be wearing those shades indoors. Aside from how garish it looks, you might bump into something you can't see."

Vinyl gazed at her table companion for a moment before she jammed her fork into the top of the stack and consumed the first pancake with a massive, single bite. After chewing for a while and swallowing her food, she spat the cherry pit out, only for it to sale across the air and land in the trash can with a light metal "ding". Octavia stared at her with a cross, disapproving look, giving a begrudged sigh before continuing to carefully cut another piece off of her stack. The two ate in relative silence as they continued their meal, which was one of the very few times the house was ever so quiet.

After finishing her meal before her housemate, Octavia gently patted her lips once again, and gave Vinyl another look. This time, it was more of concern rather than of one for chastising. "Vinyl," she started, which caused the mare opposite of her to stop mid bite on the last flapjack, "Are you alright?"

Vinyl, her mood darkening slightly, set the pancake back down onto the plate from whence it came. She gave a sigh and shook her head, before giving a weak smile and a shrug. Octavia knew this was a sign that she wasn't going to get an answer, but her concern didn't fade. "You've been a bit more reckless than usual lately," Octavia explained, "For over two weeks now, actually. Don't think that I haven't noticed you pulling all nighters on your latest project. I'm just worried you're forsaking your health for your career."

Vinyl felt a chill run up and down her spine. It was true that she was up all night lately, but it wasn't because of the project she had been working on. If anything, after years of experience in mixing and altering sounds for the sake of her passion and calling in the world, as indicated by the reversed bridged eighth-notes on her left flank and the normal bridged eighth-note on her right, she knew it would be a matter of time before these sleepless nights caught up with her. However, there really wasn't much she could do. Every night, after a session of work at her gear, she'd climb into bed, fall fast asleep, and then... She shivered a bit, but hid it with a wave of her hoof, trying to assuage Octavia and present circumstances as under control.

Octavia raised an eyebrow, knowing something was wrong, but gave a disappointed sigh, knowing there wasn't much she could do as long as Vinyl remained tight lipped about it. "Well, please at least promise me you'll try to take care of yourself more. I'd rather you not end up sick while I'm gone."

Vinyl's attention snapped back to Octavia properly now. That's right, Octavia was going to be gone for a few days, having been booked to assist in a few symphonies and concerts around Equestria, meaning Vinyl would have no moral support through that period of absence. She wanted to say something, anything to communicate the distress she was starting to go into, but her own pride of wanting to handle this alone, coupled with other personal thoughts kept her quiet.

Octavia rose from her seat, slipped on the white collar and pink bow around her neck that somewhat matched her violet treble cleft cutie mark, and cantered over to her instrument case before slinging it across her back. She turned back to her companion for a moment, worry still planted firmly in her expression. "Please, stay safe and sound. I'll see you later." With those words said, the cellist exited the house, leaving Vinyl alone at the table. 

She gazed down at her breakfast, feeling less hungry now after the dour conversation she had. She rose from her own seat, and began wandering off back to her room to continue her work, not really in the mood for breakfast anymore. That was, until she rushed back, hastily consumed the rest of her pancakes, downed the glass of milk and glass of orange juice that was also provided, before once again retreating to her room. She wasn't going to just leave a good breakfast behind, after all, no matter how soured her mood was. The dishes could wait, though.

With that, she found herself back in her room, gazing at the light clutter and mess that reflected her rather slapdash, messy lifestyle. It was a comforting feeling to be among her disco tech such as her lights, keyboards, samplers, recorders, decks, and a bookshelf of rows upon rows of vinyl disks, some as albums and compilations, others were entirely unique products of her own activities. Here, she could just enjoy the sounds and notes like a true audiophile she ultimately was, running experiments on sounds through filters and mixers, just to see what she could come up with.

Trotting over to one of her decks just past her bed, the thought of running these experiments to help enhance her current project put some ease back into her soul and mind. Just as it did, however, she tripped over something from her hind leg. Shooting a gaze down to the offending hoof, her breath froze and her heart stopped as she saw something black retreat under her bed. The color drained from her face as she stood motionless in that position, just staring at the back hoof closest to her bed, which was the only thing bothering to move, sliding a littler further away from the bed's gap. There was no way something could actually be underneath her bed. Boggarts are a foal's tall tale, not some real thing haunting random mares. Still, she swallowed hard, mustering the courage to check.

Slowly, she dipped herself lower and reached for the dangling sheet, and quickly flipped it up as she gazed into the darkness under the bed. Pushing her shades up to get a better look, all she could see was mostly pitch black, with a few dust bunnies in front of the void. She gave a sigh of relief. Of course there was nothing under the bed. It was just a trick of the eyes, brought on by stress and... the weird nightmares she's been having. She shook her head, letting go of the bed's dangling sheet, and continued towards her deck. Upon reaching it, she noticed something. Every single time she came back to check her device to start her work, she'd find everything on her deck set in the optimal positions, as if they were readied the night before so she could just jump to the bulk of the jockeying. The problem with that thought was that she didn't recall ever re-setting the devices last night. Heck, it seemed like it was happening every day recently, every time she decided to start work up again, ever since almost two weeks ago.

She shook her head. Considering how stressed out she was, maybe she actually did set it up every night up to now, but just forgot due to what's been going on. It was kind of hard to tell for her with how she's been feeling. Honestly, right now, she just needed her audio fix. And so, casting the thoughts that plagued her mind aside, she turned on her deck and put on her trusty earphones, holding one speaker a little tighter against herself with her hoof, listening closely to the music. Her other hoof almost danced across the device, moving sliders, turning dials, rotating disks back and forth, hitting buttons, and all sorts of other well practiced efforts. The stress of the nightmare melted away once again as she lost herself into the music.

However, from under the bed, far below and away from her line of sight, a shadowy mass gathered, staying underneath and away from the sun's glorious light that touched the floor of Vinyl's room. Eyes like yellow pips of light peered out, and watched the pony make her music, mesmerized.