Ugh, that imbecilic filly! Peewee slammed the bucket of Ink Blot down on the floor and fluttered across the room. Well, naive, he had to give her that; most fillies had not yet gained the wisdom to understand the world around them. If only he could have been clearer. Surely spilling the blue paint bucket last week had been a big enough clue. She’d been painting the silly leaves after all. Wrong plant, but still, she’d been in the act.
Thin trails of black ink swirled around inside what would otherwise have looked like a bucket of pink paint. He’d have to act fast if there was to be any chance of saving the little filly. Unfortunately, as a phoenix, he had no voice to speak of, so he’d left a leaf of poison joke on her easel, in the hopes that she’d take the hint and ask somepony about it. Unfortunately that had simply caused her to leave adorable colored hoofprints wherever she walked. The poor filly had been made to scrub the whole house, and only left more hoofprints in the process until they’d figured out what had happened.
But perhaps that was why she’d lasted this long. Maybe she’d built up an immunity to the stuff. He’d decided to try more drastic measures, and stolen the one thing that could truly capture her full attention. Her alicorn brush. He’d taken it and lead her to the blasted plant itself, but she still hadn’t figured it out, and blindly stumbled onto it herself. And now her life was in his claws. Peewee only hoped he had the grace and dexterity to accomplish the task set before him.
The brush would help; it actually had special properties, being made from the horn of an alicorn, donated upon her death. Her hair had been made into the bristles. Such a rare artifact—one of a kind, in fact, as alicorns could not die of natural causes. It was a wonder Rarity was ever able to acquire it, but perhaps one of the Princesses had given it as a gift, knowing what it would later be used for. He silently thanked Rarity for her incredible foresight in passing it to Ink Blot, picked up the alicorn brush from the shelf across the room, and carefully dipped it into the silver can of his favorite little filly.
~ ~ ~
Most ponies would be aware that Golden Oaks library had many rooms in addition to the main library, which were not used for storing books. The great tree also functioned as a house, and Twilight Sparkle, the librarian, lived in some of these many additional rooms. Most of them had doors, and had been visited by the friends and family of the librarian. Some however, were off limits to all but Twilight and her personal assistant. Nopony knew about the room Twilight now used, save for her and that assistant. And probably the pony who built Golden Oaks but the tree was so ancient he or she was probably long dead, and completely insignificant.
The room was small, being hidden in the root system of the tree, and was very simple. Marking the entryway was a small wooden door, magically sealed from the inside, and enchanted to be impervious to everything from direct flame to high powered magical blasts. It was an indestructible piece of wood, and one of Twilight’s proudest accomplishments. Across the room was a bed; simple but soft, for extended stays. A glowstone hung from the ceiling, which Twilight charged each night before bed, so she could remain down here indefinitely if need be.
A cabinet with infinitely preservable food sat next to a small desk, which was really useful for banging one’s head on if one could not think straight. A small indentation had been worn into the wood near the front of the desk. On the far wall stood a crystal mirror that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. The crystal had special properties, allowing it to act as a lightning rod of sorts for magical outbursts, or resist shattering from thrown objects.
It had been a long time since Twilight had needed this room. It wasn’t often she became so emotionally distraught that she was afraid of actually blowing up the library, or worse. This room didn’t exist for her protection, though it could serve that purpose if need be. No, it was for those rare times when Twilight really needed to blow off steam and didn’t want to be bothered with worrying about everypony’s safety.
Twilight looked up from where she was curled up on the bed. Naps were great after releasing a cataclysmic supernova of anguish from one’s horn. Thank goodness for that crystal mirror. Twilight gave it a glance to see that it was alright. It was glowing deep purple, but otherwise intact. Great. Now if she could just rid herself of her hangover. Her gaze drifted to the now empty bottle of scotch on the desk across the room. So much for never again, and it hadn’t even worked. She still couldn’t get the day’s events out of her head. She shivered at what that awful plant had driven her to. What she’d been forced to do to her friends.
And it was all happening again. It was happening and there was nothing she could do to stop it. In fact, she was helping it.She got up and trotted rapidly between the bed and the desk. What had she almost done? It wasn’t Ink Blot’s fault, it was hers. More magical energy began building up behind her horn as she paced, and Twilight allowed it to seep into the air. The mirror would catch it if it the air became too saturated. She turned and paced between the mirror and the door, staring at the nails driven into the boards beneath her hooves.
She was the one who set all of this into motion. By trying to hide it she’d ignored the problem and now it had grown too far to conceal. With that painting on the wall the truth would be out soon and then everypony would know. Everypony would see Twilight was a— No!Twilight looked up as she rounded away from the door and then froze. Something must be wrong with her mirror. That couldn’t be her… could it? The blood in her veins turned to ice beneath the gaze of her reflection. Twilight gulped, and took a shaky step forward.
She moved slowly, each step calculated carefully to reduce head movement. Twilight forced herself to concentrate on the placement of her hooves, so she would not have to think about what she was staring at. Her breathing became heavier with each hoof fall. Beads of sweat rolled down her face. Twilight gulped loudly as she fought to control her body, which protested each inch gained with increasing fervor. The floorboards sang with the sound of sweat pouring onto them as Twilight took another determined step forward and brought her snout mere inches from the glass. Tremors wracked her whole body as Twilight’s brain finally found itself unable to ignore what it was looking at.
The creature in the mirror glared back at her with blood red eyes. Its lips curled upward in a permanent snarl, bearing sparkling but lengthened incisors. Its breath fogged the glass, and fresh saliva dripped from its fangs. Its mane was matted and unruly, clinging to its head. Muscles twitched beneath its glistening lavender coat, and steam poured off of the tip of its horn. It reminded Twilight of a cornered snake, poised and ready to strike. It looked ready to kill. Ready to do whatever it took to defend itself.
The creature’s lips moved, but Twilight heard her own voice call out. “What are you?” her reflection spat. Its upper lip twitched.
“I—I’m Twilight Sparkle. I’m a unicorn.”
“No. You’re a monster,” it snarled. “And what else would you be? Lying to your friends for over a decade, allowing them to believe a comforting lie. Well, comforting compared to the truth, maybe, but a lie all the same.”
Twilight found herself mouthing the words, but they sounded as though somepony else spoke them, despite her own vocal tones coming through loud and clear. The words hit hard, as though launched from a cannon aimed at her heart.
“And for what? To protect your friends? Your reputation?”
It grinned triumphantly at her, as though it had won some great battle of words. But the battle had barely begun. It continued its monologue.
“Ha! Poor, Twilight. Princess Celestia’s perfect little student. You could never do anything wrong. Surely it was just impossible. Apple Bloom would forgive you, right? As long as they still thought you were of sound mind, and still the kind caring pony you pretended to be, you were happy, and so were they. So go ahead, cover him up. Tell them he died. Let them grieve. All for the sake of maintaining that magnificent glamourie that you cast about yourself. You disgust me, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight stumbled back, her reflection’s demeanor changing from the tense, aggressive stance to a pitiable lump that could barely stand up. Her pupils constricted and her breathing became difficult.
It was true, she’d lied, but why? For years Twilight had told herself it was for everypony’s protection. After all, once a pony was afflicted by Nightmare’s kiss, the plant began to live and thrive in their body, eating their mind from the inside out, and turning them into a viable source of contagion. Any interaction with him at all would have rendered Apple Bloom beyond help.
Twilight’s lip trembled at the thought of Apple Bloom melting into the floor, or floating away in the wind. No. That was why she’d done it. It had to be. Right?
Twilight fell over on the floor, hooves on her head.
“It… ”
A lump formed in Twilight’s throat, and she could not hold back her tears.
“It’s not true!”
Twilight’s sobs shook her whole body, tears mixing with sweat on the floor. Her hind legs scrambled around on the floor as she struggled to curl up into more of a ball.
“Oh, isn’t it?”
There it was again. The strange, not-her voice. Twilight opened her eyes and glanced over at the mirror, to see herself staring back once again, but with those same blood red eyes, and that same malevolent expression.
“What did you just do a few hours ago? How far you’ve come, Twilight Sparkle, that you would nearly kill your best friend’s daughter just to keep a silly little secret. You didn’t even have to. The plant would have dispatched of the filly in due time. You wanted to do it, Twilight. You wanted to watch her suffer and scream and beg for help, only to smother her just like you did to—”
“STOP IT!”
Twilight forced herself through, cutting off her demonic reflection’s monologue. She stamped a hoof, and strode boldly toward it, Hot breath snorting from her nostrils. She stared down her reflection with righteous fury.
“I. Am not. A monster! ” She spat through clenched teeth.
Her expression rolled its eyes and smirked.
“Oh, really? You’re not? Well, I guess you didn’t tell your friends that somepony they loved was dead, when in fact he could easily have been saved. And I guess you didn’t condemn him to a life of solitude and torment, void of any stimuli whatsoever as his mind rots from the inside out. You can’t even remember his name. You don’t even have the decency to remember the name of the stallion you as good as murdered in cold, heartless—”
“SHUT UP!” Twilight shrieked, slamming her hoof into the glass so hard it nearly shattered. Fragmented images of herself laughed back at her.
“Oh, I’m not finished yet. You even doomed a poor innocent filly to the same fate when you failed to remove the threat, and just imagine what will happen when everypony finds out that you lied. Imagine when they realize the truth.”
Twilight and her reflection leaned so close their horns nearly touched.
“They will hate you, Twilight Sparkle. They will see what you truly are and they will never forgive you for what you did.”
Twilight backed away from the glass, unable to look away, and unable to cease her own laughter.
Just what have I become?
Twilight slumped onto the floor, shivering and crying into her hooves. Her face turned white, and her pupils shrank as she stared into her hideous, maniacal reflection.
~ ~ ~
“Twilight!”
The voice was barely audible, muffled, as though said underwater.
“Twilight! Come on open up!”
A loud frantic pounding came from a point somewhere behind her. Twilight became aware that she was on the floor, and opened her eyes slightly. There was no light wherever she was. She pushed herself onto her feet, legs shaking as they struggled to support her weight. She was cold, and her mane clung to her neck, soaked in some clammy substance.
As Twilight started to reach out with her magical senses to feel what was around her, something exploded to her left. Instinctively, Twilight leapt back, throwing up a magical barrier around herself which doubled as a light source for the room. She was in her panic room. The magenta glow of her shield fell upon the familiar bed, desk and food cabinet she’d kept in here. There was powdered glass everywhere, and her magical senses told her the mirror that should be behind her was missing. Opposite her, her indestructible wooden door lay in splinters. Next to the debris was her faithful assistant, Spike, and standing directly behind him was Princess Luna, her horn still powering down.
“Twilight!” Spike cried, running to her with tears in his eyes. Twilight dropped her shield and allowed him to hug her. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he cried into her shoulder.
Twilight stared blankly across at Luna, whose face bore the weight of worry. She stepped slowly into the room, illuminating it with her horn. Twilight shot some power into the glow crystal she’d installed when she discovered this room, and it sprang to life instantly. She gave Spike a nudge and he released her, then she stepped toward Luna.
“What is it, Princess Luna? What’s going on?” She asked, still shivering.
Luna looked at her painfully, then inclined her head “I heard you screaming through your dreams, Twilight Sparkle. I feared you had fallen ill of Nightmare’s Kiss.” She looked up, still wearing the same worried expression. “I am glad I was wrong, but you do not look as though all is well.”
Twilight’s eyes shifted to the empty spot on the wall behind her, and shuddered as she remembered the demonic face in the mirror. She couldn’t tell them. Her reflection had been right. They’d hate her if they found out. But she had to tell Luna something. Twilight thought quickly.
“I…” She gulped. Twilight couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but it would be less painful than explaining what was really on her mind. Twilight took in a breath to speak.
“Twilight? You down here?”
The sound of hooves on wood carried down the stairs into the room. Luna turned, then moved aside to reveal Applejack standing beside her. But something was wrong. Gone was the calm, level headed Applejack Twilight had come to know. The farm pony’s eyes were drawn wide, and her pupils had shrunk to miniscule dots. She stood tall but her knees betrayed her apprehension. Strangest of all was the lack of a stetson hat on her head. Applejack’s blond mane fell freely over her shoulders. Twilight blinked.
“Applejack?”
Applejack’s eyes locked on to Twilight, and she practically teleported right over to her.
“You gotta help me Twililght! Somethin’ terrible’s happened to my niece! I…”
Applejack let go of Twilight and stared blankly at the ground, hooves on her head.
Twilight put a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Applejack, what happened?”
Applejack looked up shakily. “Ink Blot, she…” Applejack’s eyes turned and caught Spike. All the fear left Applejack’s featured and was replaced with a tight lipped snarl. She took a step toward Spike, planting the hoof firmly enough to raise a small cloud of dust. “She was taken by that darn pet of yours! You gotta keep him in line, Spike. He…”
Applejack raised a hoof to strike Spike, but then let it fall. Twilight was confused until she heard something wet hit the floor, and saw the dark spots forming. Applejack collapsed onto the ground, sobbing into her hooves.
At that moment, Twilight decided it was getting a little cramped down here, and with a quick flash of magic she moved them all upstairs. It was now that Twilight noticed something matting Applejack's coat, and trailing down her sides.
“Applejack?” Twilight said, stepping backward without meaning to. “What’s that pink stain on your back?”
Applejack looked up at Twilight with tired eyes. There was a pleading look there, as though Applejack wanted nothing more than to drop the subject and continue crying into the floor. But the strong, rugged Applejack Twilight knew showed herself again. Her tears dried up, her eyes hardened, her lips drew tight, and Applejack the unshakable pressed a shaky hoof into the floor, until she stood at her full height.
“It’s a mite painful to say this. No, actually it’s a lot painful, but I gotta be strong. Ink Blot came ‘round the farm this afternoon askin’ about, well, you. She said you and Pinkie were pretty scared of somethin’, and she wanted to know what it would be. She started mentionin’ the old barn and the weird poison joke, so I knew it had to be that stuff that killed that poor pony all them years ago.” Applejack looked down and reached up to grab her hat, but put her hoof down when she realized it was not there.
“I said I’d eat my hat if y’all were actually that scared, and well, I guess you can see I don’t have it no more—turns out I'm a nervous eater. So I told her all about what happened, but she started to nod off. I went to see if she was okay, and she just fell over onto the floor and then… and then…”
Applejack had begun shaking again, and all the strength had left her gaze. Luna shot Twilight a stern look. Twilight moved to comfort her friend, but Applejack wiped a hoof across her snout, and continued.
“I thought I’d lost her. Thought the plant had killed her, just like it did that other pony, but then she woke up. I was so relieved.” Applejack smiled painfully, sniffed once, and continued. “But then she—she just started melting into the floor. I’m not really sure what was going on, but I picked her up and started running to Zecora’s. I thought maybe she might know how to fix it.”
“But then that dag-blam phoenix came and stole her right off my back. I ain’t never gonna see her again and it’s all his fault!” Applejack pointed an accusing hoof at Spike, who immediately took shelter behind Twililght’s leg. Applejack let Spike go and looked back up at Twilight.
“I can’t lose her. She’s my niece. She’s family. I know you said there was nothin’ we could do the last time, but I know you’ve been tryin’ hard. Please, Twilight, you’ve gotta tell me there’s somethin’ we can do.”
Applejack had her hooves on Twilight’s chest as she finished speaking. Twilight looked over at Luna, who simply closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. Luna’s letter immediately floated to the front of Twilight’s mind.
Pinkie Pie’s daughter had a frightening dream last night. I fear she is in great danger.
She’d been warned. Luna had warned Twilight that this would happen and Twilight had done nothing. Her reflection was right. She was a monster.
Twilight looked into Applejack’s crying eyes. Those eyes that seldom showed fear, but never lacked tenacity. Now there was only fear in those eyes, and one tiny spark of hope left. Her. Twilight was Applejack’s last hope, and Twilight wasn’t about to let her down. Twilight lifted a hoof, and slammed it down, eliciting a yelp from Applejack. Her eyes narrowed as she stared determinedly at nothing.
No. She wouldn’t fail this time. Applejack had been there for her too often. She was one of Twilight’s closest friends. Twilight wouldn’t let Applejack down. There was only one pony left who might be able to help them. Twilight just hoped he was in the mood.
~ ~ ~
“H-hello?” the filly called into the black. “Is there anypony out there?”
There was no answer. In fact, there was no sound at all, an eerie silence called out of the darkness surrounding her. She made to move forward, but found that she could not. She looked down, and saw nothing beneath her. No ground, not even a body. A bone chilling cold arrived in the darkness as she realized she was little more than a bodyless spirit trapped in a void.
“What’s happened to me?!” she cried. She tried flailing her legs about, but they were not there. She could feel tears on her face, feel them fall, but they made no sound. Instead, a light scratching began to assault her ears. It was faint at first, but it grew steadily stronger, until she recognized it as the strokes of a paint brush.
“Who’s there? Who are you?” She called.
No answer.
“Why can’t I see you?”
A knocking sound came from behind her. She turned her head but was only met with more darkness. The knocking came again, this time accompanied by a voice, but it was too muffled to make out. The filly tried to run toward it, but was once again reminded that she had no legs. She strained her eyes to see where the noise might be coming from, then froze. It was a cruel and awful joke that she had no limbs, because it meant that she could not reach up to check on what her new greatest fear was.
The knocking came again. Louder this time.
“Tell me you’re real, please. I can’t be going crazy. Come on!”
That voice. It was the same one as a moment ago. The filly turned and lunged toward it, only to be held back by her continuing lack of legs. It wasn’t fair.
“Yes, I’m real,” she called out to the voice. “Please, can you help me? I can’t move.”
The knocking stopped. The filly heard a long sigh. “Sorry, no dice.” It was a deep, gruff voice, like that of an older stallion. “I can’t even see you. You’re probably just another voice in my head. Wonderful. Now I really do belong in the crazy house.”
The voice stopped, and the filly wriggled frantically toward it
“No. N-no wait, please! I don’t know where I am!” Tears streamed down the filly’s face as she flopped uselessly in her suspended void. It wasn’t fair. What had she possibly done to deserve this? In her heart she knew this wasn’t right. This couldn’t be her life. Where was her real self? Who had trapped her in here? Wherever ‘here’ was.
Lost in her thoughts, the filly barely noticed something wet and slimy sliding over her flanks. Her blood froze as she realized it had her. She turned to look at it, but could only see the same cold blackness. Panic struck and she kicked out at the thing. And felt herself move!
At last, legs! She tried to move the others, but they weren’t there. Kicking with all of her strength, the filly pushed against the wet icky stuff that was attacking her. She kicked again and again, skating along whatever floor was beneath her as the creature slithered up along her back and under her belly.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!”
“I’m going to ignore you,” the voice called out in response.
“Please, you’ve got to help me!” the filly cried. “I don’t know what this thing is!”
“Not listening! I refuse to go crazy!”
It wasn’t going to help her get out of here, and it clearly didn’t know what was going on either. The filly kicked furiously and began to gain more ground as she managed to get another one of her legs to respond. She stood up and ran on two legs, but the icky thing clung to her like glue, running over her chest and around her neck. She thrashed, hoping to shake it off, but it was no use. It slithered down over her front legs, just as they too began to respond.
The filly ran. Where she was running didn’t matter, she just had to get away from that thing, whatever it was. After what had to have been a mile she stopped, breathing heavily. Then she stood straight up, looking around at the blackness. It was gone. The slimy thing was gone.
A sharp rap from behind her caused her to spin around, heart racing. As she struggled to catch her breath, the wet slimy creature returned and pressed against her face. She screamed, but it was smothered by the creature. She tried to shake it off, but it was relentless. Her muffled screams fell on deaf ears until finally the wet thing lifted, and revealed a small pinprick of light.
The filly blinked. Light. At last. Her eyes swam hungrily for it, feasting upon the small glow from the black. Almost at once she shut them. The light was painful to look at. She had been in the dark for too long. Still, whoever it was who had smothered her with that wet thing had given her something to see.
“I—I don’t know who you are but… t–thank you.”
“Good. Now go away.”
She ignored the voice again and opened one eye slowly, reaching toward the light. Her vision blurred as tears formed in her eyes. She couldn’t reach toward the light. Her legs simply refused to move in that direction. She slumped onto the black floor beneath her and cried into her hooves.
“Why did you do this to me?” she sobbed. “Why give me light if I can’t reach it? You’re a monster.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and I’m not listening to any more of your ridiculous attempts to trick me. Just leave me be!”
The wet creature smothered her face again, and the filly screamed again. This time, though, when it drew away, there was more than just a small pinprick of light. There was color. The filly blinked, slowly. The light didn’t hurt her eyes this time, but what she could see…
“No, it’s not true! It can’t be true!”
“What is it now? Look, I know it’s awful being just a voice in my head but that’s what you are. You don’t exist, so just go away.”
“Shut up!” The filly screamed at the voice. She knew she existed, because she recognized the thing staring at her from the light source.
The voice finally quieted down, and the filly stared out at her new world. She was in a plain, four walled room made of simple planks of wood. Opposite her was a window which allowed her to see outside, where there were bushes and grass. Scattered about the room were various objects, ranging from blocks of wood to toy dolls, to quills or pillows or newspaper clippings. In front of her was a single paint bucket, shining and clean. And perched upon it, holding an expensive looking paint brush in one talon, was a bright red bird, gazing at her with piercing golden eyes.