Act V – ‘Non-fiction’
Synchronicity, Act V – ‘Non-fiction’
“So,” Twilight said, looking up at the chalkboard, "we agree that we have to go back to the Manor?”
Rainbow turned away from the window and the night outside to look at Twilight. “Yep. Location of Death Significant.”
Twilight marked a little cross next to the Location of Death Significant heading, under which was the largest amount of tally marks.
“Plus," Rainbow added, “we keep dreaming about the Manor.”
“We do,” Twilight said, then turned her attention back to the board. “We should go back there at the same time new entries appear in the diary. That's...” She scanned the categories of common themes in ghost stories with a floating piece of chalk. “Repetition of Supernatural Phenomena at Specific Times.”
“Yeah.” Twilight marked it with a cross.
“And when that happens, we'll get the final piece of information we need to Help the Ghost Cross Over.” Twilight put a third cross next to Protagonist(s) Must Help Ghost 'Cross Over'. “Based upon the numerous references to the importance of completing her potion experiment and how often she focuses on the basement at the Manor, I think it's a safe bet that Winthrop Maresdon needs us to let the world know about what she discovered. Rainbow?”
“Hm? Yeah. Yeah, that sounds right.”
Rainbow was looking out the window again. In truth, she did not think that sounded completely right. She was thinking of how the gardener factored into the story. Winthrop Maresdon wrote a lot about him, too – about watching him from her study, about thinking of him when she was toiling away in the basement. He was a big factor in all three versions of the ghost story surrounding the Manor, and once or twice Rainbow had dreamed she was wearing a broad straw hat, the kind a farmer might have worn a generation or two ago. He had a part to play, Rainbow was sure...
“Rainbow?”
...and what about the roses, how did they...
“Rainbow!”
“Hm?” Rainbow snapped back to the library. Twilight was giving her a look: some frustration, a little concern.
“I asked if you were ready to go.”
“Oh.” She shook her head a little, as if to clear it of stray thoughts. “I am. I'm ready.”
“Okay then.” Twilight closed her eyes, and the bright flash of light enveloped them both.
-/-
The Manor was everything Rainbow remembered, and yet at the same time different. Dreaming of it every night, even in distorted and exaggerated dimensions, had given her a familiarity with the old house that felt strange for it being only her second time seeing it in the real world. It was no longer the stereotypical spookhouse standing abandoned while a thunderstorm rumbled in the distance. Now it seemed to be waiting for them, calm and patient in the still night. Welcoming them in. It was just a house, it would say if it could speak to them in direct words. There’s nothing dangerous in here. Nothing dangerous at all.
A chill ran up her spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air. A nervous panicky voice spoke up in her mind – You could just leave, there’s no reason to be here, it said – and Rainbow tried her best to ignore it.
“Ready?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah,” Rainbow replied. She hoped it wouldn’t be too obvious of a lie.
Twilight dropped the diary in her saddlebag. “Let’s go.”
They walked between the wide path that split the two halves of the front gardens. Rainbow’s eyes moved between the naked trees and dead bushes, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Her gaze flicked to Twilight, who seemed to be focused on the front door of the Manor and nothing else.
“So, Twilight,” Rainbow said, not wanting there to be silence when they entered, “nervous?”
“A little,” she said, although she didn’t sound it. “We could be on the edge of discovering something no pony’s ever seen before! Who wouldn’t be nervous?”
Oh. It was that kind of nervous. “Yeah,” she agreed with a shaky breath, following Twilight into the entrance room with the grand staircase.
“”I mean, it’s not like we’ll actually see a ghost, like in a story. Some kind of resonance, maybe, something that’s left an imprint in the world. But not a glowing transparent pony with chains on or anything. It might be that you won’t notice anything at all.”
The panicked voice came to life once again, clanging about her head. She’s not taking this seriously! it wailed. She read all those stories and she’s still not. Taking. It. Seriously!
“So,” Rainbow said, thinking of how best to phrase her question, “what do you think will happen, when the last entry appears?”
“I’m not sure,” Twilight said, “but it shouldn’t be dangerous. There’s nothing to worry about, Rainbow.”
Rainbow glanced back at the front door from the top stair. It wasn’t too late to leave. It wouldn’t be too late to grab the diary out of Twilight’s saddlebag and slam it on the floor and hustle Twilight out the door. This was what the clammy voice in her head wanted to do.
Instead she kept pace with Twilight. Twilight wasn’t take the threat of dealing with a ghost seriously, so she had to. She certainly wasn’t going to abandon her. Who was the expert here, anyway? Twilight needed her. There was a reason for her to be here.
She hoped that reason would keep the nervous voice quiet.
The small study was also unchanged: desk in the center of the room, heavy black curtain shutting out the moonlight. Twilight carefully placed the diary where she had found it, opened it to the last revealed entry, and took a step back.
“Now?” Rainbow asked.
“Now I guess we wait,” Twilight said.
They didn’t need to wait long. The glow came from the diary, a bright pure light that equaled the light from Twilight’s horn. A concentrated locus that was difficult to look directly at danced across the blank page, and in its wake came Winthrop Maresdon’s words. Rainbow stood beside Twilight to follow along as she read aloud.
Is there value to a life unlived? If one becomes shut off from the world, never touches another with either spirit or flesh, can such an existence truly be called a life? Even if this manner of exile is undertaken with the noblest of intentions…
There lies a crossroads. The path ahead is the life of solitude, and it is dark but not unfamiliar. Odd, that the dark should seem so comforting and safe. Laying ‘cross it is the path that leads to the rest of the world, its mess, its confusion, its many other occupants. Would it be a grievous undertaking to place a single hoof upon that crowded path? One could always find the way back. I tell myself this, yet I am not certain.
So many things different tonight. The candles burn in rooms that are not the study. Two places wait at the table that has been unused for many and many years. Drawers filled with knickknacks and baubles long forgotten have opened, closed, opened. So many niceties and little rituals to remember. It could all go so terribly wrong; even if all were to go right, all could be ruined. Would it not be wiser to keep the gardener in the garden until… no. He is too persistent, too persuasive, too pervasive. One cannot continue to work under these conditions. Better to invite in ruin. Better to shine a light and wonder no longer of missed opportunities, of lives unlived.
Afraid. Nervous. Afraid.
As Twilight spoke, Rainbow found she could for the first time picture the pony that Winthrop Maresdon had been. She could see her sitting at the chair in front of her, pausing to ink her quill and to think between sentences. This pony in her imagination didn’t seem like anything to be feared, ghost or not. Rainbow suddenly felt like she was very familiar with her.
“This is the night when she invited the gardener in,” Rainbow said to herself.
“I don’t understand,” Twilight said, “there’s nothing here. I was sure Winthrop Maresdon’s unfinished research was what was keeping her from crossing over…” She turned to Rainbow. “Did we do something wrong?”
No sooner had she spoken, there was a sound that echoed through the whole Manor. Rainbow knew it right away: it was the door banging open, then slamming shut. Twilight flinched and whispered, “What was that?” – Rainbow wondered if Twilight had been expecting nothing to happen. She still didn’t really believe they were dealing with a ghost, but Rainbow knew better. A strange feeling of calm washed over her as the hoofsteps sounded downstairs across the polished floor and up the stairs. It had all come together in her mind. It all made sense now.
It did not appear to have all made sense to Twilight. All the color had drained from her face. “Oh, no…” she moaned in a low voice.
“Twilight, it-” Rainbow tried to say, but Twilight cut her off.
“We were wrong! We were wrong and Rarity was right!”
“No, it’s-”
“The gardener!” Twilight hissed. “It was never Winthrop Maresdon, it was the gardener and he’s coming now!” She gripped Rainbow’s shoulders tight enough for it to hurt a little. The hoofbeats grew closer, louder despite there being a carpeted hallway leading to the tiny study.
“Twilight,” Rainbow said with all the force she could manage without shouting, “it’s okay. It’s not the gardener.”
“How can you know that?” Twilight was moving towards the door, all composure lost. “The diary-”
There were so many things she wanted to say, wanted to explain to Twilight. But the echoing hoofbeats were now sounding up the stairs and there was no time to say them all. Rainbow blocked Twilight's path to the study door, looked into her frightened eyes and said, “It will be okay. Just trust me.”
The door to the study opened with a stuttering creak. Standing on the other side was the figure of a pony. She was a pale stark white. Rainbow could see the faint outline of the banister through her. This could only be Winthrop Maresdon – or her spirit, or shade, or whatever you wanted to call it. Rainbow felt no fear. All of a sudden, she didn’t feel like she was part of a ghost story any more. It was like she was visiting an old friend.
The ghost of Winthrop Maresdon floated across the study, Rainbow and Twilight’s heads swiveling with synchronized precision to follow her. She touched the open diary with a transparent hoof, and the pages glowed with the same pale light that was throbbing out of her like a heartbeat. She then floated back and gazed at Twilight and Rainbow.
“I think we should go read,” Rainbow said, and Winthrop nodded. Her movements were slow, her expression blank, but her eyes were sharp and alive.
Twilight and Rainbow walked to the desk in lockstep with each other. They read from the diary, glowing with its own white light.
He brought black roses to the door and held them in his mouth, under the assumption that the black variety was my favorite by virtue of there being no other color among the roses in the gardens. That is the way I have remembered him. That image I can see clearly, even after such a long time.
The weeks that followed our dinner were like nothing else. All the qualities I had feared of common ponies – of all other ponies – none of these were present in Sour Patch. His soft-spoken manner belied no ill intent, his meaning always simple and pure. Yet he was possessed with an internal energy, the spark that was lacking in all others I had discarded in favor of my research. I desired to experience this spark more, desired to spend more of my time in his company. I desired.
Yet, it was still my grand experiment that occupied my mind in the moments I was not near him. I made rationalizations, I convinced myself that, once I had been successful, then time would never be a factor for us. There would be an eternity of time awaiting us. This made it possible to continue to work, but it did not make it simple. He would speak to me of marriage, of abandoning the Manor and the name that came with it to live a simple life, far from other ponies and free from anything that would chain us to this place. It tempted me, tempted me sorely. How I wish every night it had tempted me more.
At every step of the process of developing the potion, the potion I so foolishly named after the black roses, I was constantly mindful that its creation should not be understood by the wrong parties. I never for a moment ever thought the wrong party could be me. All the testing, all the study, all for naught. I had not brewed a method to mimic the most prized and elusive gift of the Princess, but merely had distilled a most toxic poison.
Twilight breathed in awe. “Of course she kept no notes.”
“What?” Rainbow asked. “What gift is she talking about?”
“The gift of eternal life,” Twilight said. “It’s something impossible to replicate through normal magic. If it could be put into a potion-”
“Wait, so Winthrop Maresdon found a way to make herself immortal?”
“She thought she did,” Twilight said, and looked back down to continue reading.
The Black Rose Potion – Black Rose Poison – worked quickly. I faded in a matter of mere days. Sour Patch stayed by my side for every hour, listening to my lifetime to regrets and apologies. When I grew too weak to voice them, I would look into his eyes, and he would understand.
Passing was like descending into a sleep from which one knows one will never wake…
“Wait…” Rainbow said, “does that mean what I think it means? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Rainbow,” Twilight said in a hushed whisper, “we’re standing in a room with an honest-to-goodness ghost, and this is what doesn’t make sense?”
“Good point,” she said, and kept reading.
Passing was like descending into a sleep from which one knows one will never wake. I saw no endless rolling light when I could see again, no place beyond the realm of mortals. I was confined to the Manor in death as I had been in life. I saw my gardener grieve, but could not console him. Saw him weep, but could not touch him. When I saw him imbibe of the Poison that had ended me, I could not stop him. In the moment he did, I did not want him to. It is my shame that I felt joy for the first time since being freed of my fleshy shell. If we could not be joined in life, then let us be joined in death!
This was not the way of things. His place in the afterlife was the gardens he had tended so diligently for me, cultivating the roses that would be the method of our passing. He was barred from me by the drawn curtains and locked doors I myself had placed while I lived. I could feel his presence, but it was little more than a whisper, a memory of a memory that served to remind me of my choice nightly.
I chose unwisely. I shut myself away from the world in life and so remain shut away from it in the afterlife. If there is any legacy I will have in the world, it will not be for any great discovery; it shall be for a truth I should not have been blind to. Do not isolate yourself out of fear. Do not use the thoughts of what could be to build a prison. Live a life full of hurt, of risk, of ill-conceived notions. Live a non-pristine life, for one cannot live a life without having these experiences. Live a life, because the only other choice is to not, and for all the pain and misery life will bring, it is the better choice.
When Rainbow finished reading, she glanced up at Winthrop. She was still gazing her impassive gaze. There must be something more. One more step. One last thing.
And then she knew what it was.
Rainbow turned to the heavy curtain over the window that overlooked the gardens, and yanked it to the side. She looked for the latch to the window and tried to turn it. Years of disuse made it reluctant to turn, but Rainbow refused to give up. She put all the strength of her legs into getting the little clasp to move, and finally it snapped open with a clack! Rainbow flung open the study window and turned back to Winthrop. She was smiling. A single tear, glittering like moonlight, ran down her cheek.
“Come on!” Rainbow shouted, rushing to the stairs. “We’ve got a lot of windows to open!”
-/-
When the last curtain was torn back and the final window forced open, the sun was lighting the sky from just beneath the horizon. “Are we done?” Twilight asked, tossing a heavy curtain over the bannister of the grand staircase.
“Almost,” Rainbow said, looking out into the garden. “Come look.”
Twilight stood beside her and peered out the window. In the first rays of morning stood two ponies, barely visible in the light. One was Winthrop Maresdon; the other a broad-shouldered stallion with a straw hat. They walked side by side into the sunrise, through trees and hedges, and slowly faded from view.
Rainbow and Twilight watched the garden for a moment longer. “I guess none of the stories were really true,” Rainbow said.
Twilight nodded, agreeing. “No, she wasn't anything to be afraid of. She was just... lonely.”
“Not any more,” Rainbow pointed out.
“No,” Twilight said with a smile, “not any more.” Rainbow saw a sudden thought appear on Twilight's face. She reached into her saddlebag for the diary she had once again taken from the study. It looked worn, the pages yellowed, the cover scratched and dented. “I can't feel anything from this any more.” She flipped through the pages, now filled with spidery writing. “It stops on the night Sour Patch had dinner with her, too. The last entry's gone.”
“That makes sense,” Rainbow said. “Protagonists Left Unsure of Legitimacy of Events,” she quoted from the chalkboard back in Twilight's library.
“Hm.” Twilight regarded the old book for a moment. “It would have been nice to have some proof.”
“Do you need proof? I mean, you know what happened.”
“That might be enough,” she said after some brief consideration.
A long moment of calm silence passed between the two ponies, broken by a lone bird singing to the morning.
“Hey, Twilight...” Rainbow said.
“Yes Rainbow?”
“I...”
A loud metallic thud made them both jump. They both spun to check what had made the noise, and when Rainbow saw what had been responsible, she felt a little silly. She walked over to the heavy padlock that had barred the door to the basement lying on the floor and nudged it with her nose. It had rusted in the sun.
“Wanna check it out?” Rainbow asked, indicating the door.
“Are you sure?” Twilight responded.
"I think so," Rainbow said.
-/-
They descended into the basement, Twilight lighting the open empty space with her horn. Rainbow’s first thought was of a wine cellar, because of all the barrels. That didn’t seem quite right, though, and there was an odd smell in the air.
Her hoof splashed in a shallow puddle. “What’s…” she started to ask, and then she saw the label on the side of one of the leaking barrels: a stencil of a black rose. She took a rapid step backwards and bumped into Twilight. “The barrels,” Rainbow said, “they must be full of…”
“The Potion,” Twilight finished, then corrected herself: "Poison. Sour Patch must have come down here before he... Well, he must have locked the basement off, so nopony else would come down here.”
“It’s leaking all over the place…” Rainbow said, eyeing the floor. She hovered a short distance off the ground. “Can we do something about it?”
Twilight considered for a moment. Then the aura around her horn changed color, from plain white to deep blue. All the barrels and all of the spilled poison on the floor glowed in the blue light for a moment, and then vanished with a pop!
“Awesome,” Rainbow said, setting herself down on the now-dry basement floor, “where’d it go?”
“I put it in a crater on the far side of the moon,” Twilight said without hesitation. “I don’t think anypony will find it there for a long time.”
Rainbow laughed. “No, I guess not. Now maybe the garden will start to grow back.”
"I hope so," Twilight said.
Rainbow looked at Twilight in the dim basement, her face lit by the soft glow from her horn. The memory of eating dinner and being unable to ask an important question came to her, strong as if she had been transported back to that moment. She looked into Twilight’s eyes, and found she had no trouble asking it now.
It turned out there was nothing to have been afraid of.
-/-
They walked through the garden towards the heavy gates just as Winthrop Maresdon and Sour Patch had done minutes before. Two birds sang, playing call-and-answer from the dormant trees. Rainbow and Twilight passed the remains of a low bush. On the end of one branch, waving back and forth in the breeze, was a single green leaf. In time, it would be joined by others, and after the bush came to life with the rest of the garden, it would also bloom with black roses.
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Well everyone, that's the end of the ride. Hope you all enjoyed it while it lasted. I know I didn't do any responding to comments while the story was unfinished (because I don't really trust myself to not give stuff away or hint heavily at things), but if you've got any things you'd like to say or ask now things are done, I guess now would be the time to say or ask them. Thanks for reading!
I don't know if the dark tag fits on this. It seemed more like a tragic story that turned beautiful in the end. Like winter turning to spring. Anyway, a beautiful story and a fun one to read. Well done.
830628
It's the very mildlest form of darkness. I was considering leaving it off, but between the hauntings and the suicides I figured it just scrapes by as being enough to justify it. I did feel a bit bad that people might have been expecting something a little more... Lovecraftian to happen, though. Sorry 'bout that.
Awh, this ended on such a sweet note that I think I'mma get cavities.
It was a good story, I applaud you!
A marvelous ghost story.
830646
The best romances always do. Glad you liked it!
Take all of my bloody likes!
open-end and extremely cute, a wonderful job
D'awwwwwwww... That was a touching/sweet/great ending.
Have these moustaches.
I love how simple and straightforward the story was. Nothing big, nothing confusing, just a simple "Twilight and Rainbow Dash are in a ghost story", with some "Genre Savvy Characters" thrown in for good measure. I also like Rainbow Dash being the "Expert" in this scenario. XD
This is the first fic to ship these two that I ever bought. Rainbow Dash getting all book-nerdy with Twilight is just one of the best things ever. And I appreciate that the romance was there, but remained a subtlety, open-ended, and focused still on the horror and suspense of the ghost story they were trapped in. This was, in some parts I'll admit more than others, points where I felt a tingle go up my spine. Keep up the good work and hone your talent, I always love a good, Gothic horror. :3
That was
daaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwtastic.
Many tears were shed.
but before that, it scared the crap outta me.
I had to sit against a wall to make sure nothing was behind me.
830800
When Rainbow was just casually reading a book at Twilight's place in the show, I thought that was possibly the cutest thing ever and I knew I wanted to write something that expanded on it. Just a straight-up romance wouldn't have enough tension in it, so I was thinking for a while about a second story thread to bolt on to the initial idea. A ghost seemed like an easy way to get them to spend time together, and the rest of the story evolved out of that.
Gothic horror, yes, that's exactly the vibe I was aiming for. The kind of tension it creates was fun to write alongside a developing relationship - they're kind of similar, in that there has to be this constant sense of rising pressure, like things are always building towards a tipping point. Glad you enjoyed reading it.
830857
I am dignified to say the same thing.
831029 I wanted to say this was the buckin best horror story I have read on this site
831029
I was never really scared ( it takes a lot to scare me), but i could feel the tension in the air. The only thing the prevented chills was this heat we have were i'm at. ( 103 today).
It was a well written mature story, and i do mean than in the good way. i hope you continue to produce high quality works like this.
Excuse me, but how do you think Luna is going to react to Twilight putting a deadly poison on the moon? That's like putting a barrel of toxic waste in someone's house.
831162
I don't know if I was ever trying to really scare anyone (it's a little hard to do with tiny pastel horses), but it's good to know the tension worked. Thanks!
831181
It's probably not there anymore. The lack of gravity and atmosphere allowed it to float away.
831181
It's somewhere where it can't do harm to anypony. And you can't just go about vaporizing strange potions, you don't know what kinds of unsafe things they might leave behind. Thankfully, very few things are sent to the moon, so it doesn't get cluttered up there or anything.
D'aww. Just scary enough to keep me reading, and just romantic enough to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :D
831210 Doesnt get cluttered? I kept a list of things orbiting Equestria's moon.
1.Over 9000 bananas.
2. The Celestia team of the Brony International Guard.
3. A billion moon pies.
4. Memepony and house-burned-down pony.
5. The Orbital Friendship Cannon.
6. Everything that disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle.
7. Poisonous chemicals.
8. Luna herself.
Awesome ending for an awesome story.
830645
I didn't really know what to expect but I liked where the story went. Like I said it was a fun read.
awwe
but no no more black roses
Oh that ending was beautiful, and so fitting for such a beautifully written story, well done
Well done. It's a beautiful story.
I'll admit, I was kind of wary to read this whole thing, since it gives off the impression of being a horror story and all.
I'm glad it wasn't that scary, though. Very satisfying ending, too.
831210 831250
Very few things are sent to the moon. Just the enemies of Equestria.
Or the ponies who really, really try Celestia's patience.
831029
I loved the way you worked the two genres together like that, both the romance elements and gothic elements fed off each other perfectly and made this story a pleasure to read
On a side-note:
“We do,” Twilight said, then turned her attention back to the board. “We should go back there at the same time new entries appear in the diary. That's...” She scanned the categories of common themes in ghost stories with a floating piece of chalk. “Repetition of Supernatural Phenomena at Specific Times.”
“Yeah.” Twilight marked it with a cross.
This bit was kinda confusing in regards to who was speaking. Perhaps mentioning that Dash says it I.e. "Yeah." said Rainbow, as Twilight marked it with a cross.
Apart from that minor point, all i have to say is good job on writing such an intriguing and well-written story, and I hope you're going to keep giving us wonderful stories like this one in the future.
A spectacular end to a spectacular story. I came in looking for some Twidash and even though I didn't find it, I still leave satisfied.
This was my favorite 'Ghost Story' set in the FiM universe so far. Well done. I still wish I hadn't learned about it until now though, the pacing was unfortunately damaged by the periodical format.
I hope to see more from you soon!
So the romance tag is for the ghosts
Damn, I would've liked some TwiDash to end the story with
Nice story though somewhat hard to follow at times (I'm Belgian)
836528 it did end with twidash.
836656 Excuse me but when I say TwiDash, I actually mean: soppy, romantic, 'I confess my love for her' Twidash
You gave some hints to it but didn't elaborate on it in the end
So...beautiful!
Well done. Loved the worldbuilding racial history/psychology bit you had in the earlier chapters.
No, that was just the right amount of dark for my tastes! Not too much, not too little. Just right!
And the very subtle level of shipping was just right for the story, too. A great story. I thought the last chapter was going to be too rushed, but it wasn't at all. The conclusion was perfectly timed for what it was. Good work casting Rainbow as the hero.
That was quite well written. Big hints of Twilight/RD romance, a ghost story that makes sense and doesn't end on a 'everyone dies' note, and of course RD being nerdy.
Damn, I've gotta try something like this.
What about the Failed Attempt At Removing The Spirit By Salting And Burning Remains Only To Discover That Something Else Is Keeping It Here?
859335
That's thankfully a less common kind of ghost story. Twilight and Rainbow were also lucky to avoid the Implication Spirit Still Remains at the End of the Story (Possibly Because True Evil Cannot Be Destroyed).
Fantastic! Was not a huge fan of the relationship bits, but overall, I really enjoyed it! The alternate mythologies were a great touch.
Best ghost story I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Very well done!
Aww shit I was hoping there'd be more to Twilight and Rainbow...crap :S
I can't say it was a bad story though, 'twas good
This was a very sweet story. I’ve never been one for horror in written form (it’s never really managed to grip me, since I need more stimuli than just immersing myself in the story) so I actually came to see how the TwiDash played out in what I thought was a horror story (what with the Dark tag, the image and the chapter names).
I gotta say, you gripped me pretty well with the little mystery. Around chapter three, considering this is only five chapters long, I could tell that the romantic aspects were going to remain in the background as a mere subtlety. But this was fine, since you’d already captured my interest with the other events.
It was also pretty telling that nothing really bad was going to happen to them, given that you weren’t really building up a somber and uncomfortable mood, which normal horror stories try to do.
So, kudos on the initial misdirection (if that was what you were going for) and thanks for the lovely story
I thought I'd drop a comment on my thoughts on this story so here I go:
Unfortunately for me, the story failed to really capture my interest, and it felt a little misleading when I approached it, and it felt like it was plodding along to get to the tidbits I wanted to see. But that's just my impatience as a reader looking for a good TwiDash fic.
However, I do wanna comment on the quality. The story is very well written, the characters are definitely in line with their personalities, a nice touch I admire. It was also quite creative coming up with the haunted house story and such at the beginning. It's a wonderful story from what I've read of the first two chapters, and I wish it would've dug its' fangs into me and pulled me in. Sadly, as much as I'd love to read more of this quality fic, I cannot continue.
But I will close with saying you are quite an excellent writer with extraordinary attention to detail, and I'd love to see what else you can make. I'll be tuning in!
I can't help wondering why Twilight never tried to contact Celestia about the diary after Spike got back- it just seems like something she would have done. Other than that, great story!
1189710
She might have sent a quick note to let the Princess know what she was working on. Or not, it's easy to forget these things when you're caught up in research.
Simple, unsettling, beautiful. There's something special about this story, beginning with the story within a story, and ending with folklore blending with reality. I really like your writing style. The contemplative and steady tone really makes it seem like a first-hand account. And it really is incredible how you manage to elicit fear just by dropping small details here and there. Most of all, I appreciate the subtlety and the dark undertones. (I have a thing for dark shipping like The Games We Play and A Bluebird's Song, but this really comes at it from a completely different angle.
1385405
Well, it is getting close to Halloween...