‘nopleasenopleasenoplease’ The desperate plea continued to repeat even as I tried to focus on sucking as much air into my aching-lungs as I could manage. Low branches whipped across my face but I dared not to close my eyes lest I trip over some upturned root. They were too close. Their erratic flight pattern was the only thing that was keeping those moth-winged terrors and their disturbingly long and curling mouth parts from piercing into me, but the more I ran through the undergrowth one thing was clear, their numbers were still growing.
A forest. I was definitely in a forest. I could tell that much from the twigs and mulch that squelched beneath the thin soles of my boots. Eyes wide, trying to drink in as much of the shadowed-landscape as humanly possible, there had to be a way out, there just had to be a way out. There wasn't supposed to be anything as substantial as a real forest around here. Already the patches of sunlight were growing more and more frequent as the canopy continued to thin out. I had to be getting closer.
A flash of pain burned suddenly above my elbow, the shock of it sending me to leap over a patch of pale blue flowers . 'If one of the fluttering swarm was getting close enough to bite me...' I tried to halt the words, but it was too late, finished or not the image of a thousand thin black-tubes slowly sucking away my blood and organs was there, and it wasn't going away. I could only hope that these things weren't poisonous and that I wasn't just speeding up the process of my own death by running, but the only thing that I continued to feel, besides my aching feet, was the icy-flow of fear that warred with the fire of blood that was jetting through my heart.
It had to be a nightmare, but nightmare or not, sensical or not, I was afraid. The fluted-hissing they made through their straw-like mouths. The way their small, slender legs rasped loudly against themselves as though grabbing at the air to pull themselves through it faster. That each was as big as my head even without the wings. A swarm of flying, hard-bodied moths and butterflies was something that didn't happen in the waking world.
So if it was a dream, and I now recognized it as a dream, then, just like every other dream, I just needed thirty more seconds and I would be awake, and escape from them forever. Just thirty more seconds. I never stayed asleep passed thirty seconds after I realized I was dreaming.
A branch big enough to bowl me over bloomed ahead as I passed a sudden patch of fog, but I bent over, my knuckles nearly brushing the ground as I just managed to avoid the damned thing. Stumbling past my body's attempt to lose speed, I saw a dirt trail, big and well beaten, through the underbrush. Twisting on my heel, I made for the pathway and just seconds up a hill that led to buildings, to safety, just yards away.
Chancing a look back as I broke through some loose bushes, the black-swarm swerving to follow me, it was still just as chillingly-close as it had ever been, hardly losing any speed even as it swerved again reach the path through a break in the trees.
The sudden change from uneven forest to flat dirt road almost made me trip again, but my heart lurched up, throwing me forward even as the rivers of sweat pouring off me threatened to blind my stinging-eyes. But I could see smoke now. Fire. Homes. Help.
I was so close, almost despairing as I felt the ground go slightly muddy beneath me. Another image, one of a sudden storm in the middle of the night turning the dirt road into a quagmire, sucking me in just enough to stop me entirely, an easy meal. But I charge on, if it was this bad here, then I couldn't imagine how bad it would be off the beaten track. I still had to run, still had to get to the rooftops, the city, get help, and wake up!
Cresting the blinding, sun-covered hill, finally free from the tree-line, a whole towns worth of wooden buildings greeted me. I wasn't going to question it, it was a dream, and I was so close. As the path briefly edged around the corner of an odd two-story thatch-roofed house, I almost thought it would be deserted, but the sound talking greeted as I rounded a corner to meet… technicolor-ponies. I fell to a sudden stop, tumbling over myself in my shock, my feet catching in my long black robe, but still having enough breath to cry out, “HELP”, but no one so much as glanced in my direction as I looked up from the dirt. They didn’t so much as blink an eye. An entire market of giant-eyed ponies and no one even acknowledged my existence, not even as the black swarm descended upon me, their legs scrabbling into me, dragging me back to the dark forest even as I uselessly tried to swat them away, screaming in pain as the more eager ones extended their spiraling tongues to pierce into my flesh.
***Hours Earlier***
“Ehh, what-uh-ya think?” I said, doing a quick spin on my toes.
“Dude, you totally pull that off.”
I smiled, glad that my first wholly handmade costume had turned out as well as it had, but let it fall, turning into something devoid of compassion, stooping over like a vulture as I let myself fall into character. I held the predatory-grin for a good three seconds before Andrew honked his clown horn, his all too serious grin making it all the more comical. I wasn’t all that into Homestuck, but hey, he enjoyed it, and it had certainly been a plus having someone who knew how to use grey body paint to add the finishing touches to my cosplay of Pitch Black, The Boogeyman.
“Alright, enough guys, let’s quit fucking around and get to the Con, I’d rather not sweat both my ass and make-up off before I even get inside.”
Andrew sighed, but relented to Ashley’s brash comment, exiting the cool of the hotel to its bus-stop and the heated Chicago-land cityscape as I silently fell in behind.
Ashley's humorous, if slightly disappointing word-choice aside, I was glad I’d decided to join them and my other nerdy delta-star club-mates for Comic Con this summer before my job back home in Texas officially started in the fall when the next training academy would open. They were really the only guys who would even let a spaz fresh outta high school hang out with them on campus, and even after five years worth of learning how to chill, I still didn’t even know half of their names. Not that it mattered, right now, I was here for one thing only: nerd out and have a good time.
***Later, At the Convention Center***
“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear, I’m gonna cosplay as Fiona or Tinkerbell next year cuz I’m never wearing steampunk again, not after this bullshit,” Ashley groaned, somehow managing to frown while chugging a bottle of soda in one hand while the other continued to mop at the sodden hair that fell into her face, her faux-leather jacket having long since been tied to her waist. She, like many of the other more encumbered cosplayers, had been hit pretty hard by the busted A/C units that had just now been replaced after having busted down at ten this morning. A rather lousy first day as far as many a grumbling Predator or Iron Man cosplayer could attest to.
“Ah don’t sweat it,” Andrew grinned with honk of his horn, “besides, now that things are cooling off we should go check out the dealers room. There aren’t any more panels I want to see tonight, and I wanna see if there’s any giant 20-sided die I could pair up my Unhinged Magic deck.”
“Sounds fun,” I said, though Ashley just shook her head and fell even farther into her chair as I followed after Andrew. I’d already been there multiple times already, I'd already bought a few piece of commissioned art-work, but even someone as proficient in speed-browsing myself was hard-pressed to see it all in between the panels and impromptu tournaments that I’d found myself roped into by other Con-goers. A quick walk through the thinning crowds, mostly children due to their oncoming bedtimes, and we hit the dealers room. Seeing Andrew quickly lose himself to his quest to fine the largest die he could purchase, I left him to his own devices and decided to see if I could manage to see the rest of what the dealers room had to offer.
Passing a few steampunk tables with shining gears, watches, and a few creative little clock-work insects and a hat stand that displayed many jester hats that had caught my eye earlier in the day I came across an odd little traffic cone with a paper, taped on, which stated simply: Bazaar.
Wedged between two stands wired display-walls, the small "alley" led around the corner to a display stand canopied by a simple undyed, white tarp with draping red and purple cloths u-ing around the tarp and spiraling down the four support poles, framing the the spread beneath. Weapons from across many a fandom lay upon the lacquered wooden table, most of which I was unfamiliar with, but the Bleach and Link's swords made it a rather obvious.
“Ah, salaam and good day, I see that my humble wares have caught your attention” the booth merchant smiled widely in a heavy Middle Eastern accent as he stood up from his neon-green folding-chair.
“Howdy sir,” I replied, my gaze drifting down to his small, almost pencilish mustache and blue dishdasha secured around his waist with a red sash. I glanced over the table, but nothing really caught my eye besides a few unwieldy and spiky looking pieces of plastic that were no doubt some ultimate weapon in some anime despite the fact they should have been unbalanced to the point of uselessness.
I had just started to lean back to turn on my heel when the merchant said, “Aaah, I see you've only an eye for the exceptionally rare,” and swiftly bent over and brought up with him an item that froze my leg in mid-turn. Pitch’s blackened dream-sand scythe. The snath, smooth for the bottom half of the handle but waving out like cresting waves at the top where the "blade" split in a smooth an elegant curve which was fastened to the rest with a flattened, roiling mass of sand that looked like a nightmare frozen in time. And all of it, even in the bland florescent lights of the dealer's room, shimmered as the light reflected off of the multitude of sand-like facets that covered the piece in its entirety. So, when the merchant silently handed me the weapon for a better look, finding that no single crevice was left untouched to the sandy-finish, it was with some surprise that, when I handed it back, I found that not so much as a single black speck marred my hands. The staff must have had some sort of non-reflective clear coating given it’s smoothness, and just caught the merchants last words, some good-natured ribbing about having once belonged to a great man, but I found myself interrupting him as I said, “How much.”
He hummed, adopting a more serious tone, holding the shaft in both hands, and looking down it before looking back to me and said, “for this, I will accept nothing less than ninety-five dollars.”
“You got a deal,” I said, grabbing from the dwindling number of bills in my wallet.
"Ha-Hah, sweet dreams my friend," he waved to me as I turned to leave, a smile on my face as I waved back with a word of thanks.
Moving back to the main pathways, I began my search through the dice tables, hoping to show off my new "weapon" to Andrew, or just anyone else from delta-star to show off my awesome haul, feeling more Pitch-y by the second, but after ten minutes of looking and finding no one, even when I went back to where Ashley had been, I decided it would worth it to, instead, call it an early night and show off my prize tomorrow once everyone was in cooler spirits. Besides, there weren't any tournaments I wanted to go to tonight, so if I slept now, I could go all night tomorrow.
By the time I reached the hotel room, finding it empty of any of its shared delta-star occupants, I fell upon my bed. The bus to the hotel had been more relaxing than I'd expected, the hum of the engine coaxing me to sleep like so many rumbling ice-machines, besides, my black robe could survive a bit of tossing and turning, and I could always go to a laundromat in the morning if worse came to worse.
Eyes closed, I smiled, dimly remembering I still had the Pitch’s staff, my staff, in hand. It was remarkably sturdy, having bounced the tip of the blade against a few walls and the elevator by accident on the way back. 'How childish of me' I thought with a silent laugh, twisting my wrist to lean it against the wall by the head of the bed, and thanking my good fortune at having left the convention as the rhythmic sound of rain began hitting upon the window.
***Present***
You must not fall asleep. You must make them know you.
“Wh… what?” I wheezed, startled more by the lack of pain than the words in my head as the last dregs of adrenaline twitched its way through my body. The last few hours of my life had been spent screaming as countless cuts were made across my entire body and even some into my mouth, but then as night covered the land, the black moths had retreated suddenly, leaving me to hug my knees in silence, idling wandering if the sudden lack of pain meant I was simply dying. My arms were had certainly been feeling cold and numb for a while, even during all that stabbing and pinpricking.
Your own fear is all that sustains you. You must make them believe in you or you will vanish. Already you are lessening!
I didn’t want to believe the voiceless words anymore than I wanted to believe that they were all coming from the black moths that circled the air of the clearing, wings outstretched and unmoving, but I raised a hand to my eyes, if only to prove them wrong in some misguided act of triumph, but, rather than a hand flecked with dirt and peeling grey paint, I found I could just make out the outline of the tree-trunk behind my hand in the silvery moon-light.
The creatures didn’t give me the time to think before they swooped forward, engulfing me, meshing together in a disgusting mess of shimmering black-grains, itching their way across me to bind my shaking limbs as they spread their wings to carry me aloft long enough for me to see them dive at the base of the nearest tree and into the shadows. I shut my eyes, waiting for my braining, but the only thing I felt was an engulfing numbness, everything from the cold, the pain, and even the sensation of blinking began to deaden, but it was gone before I knew it, replaced by the the sound of wind whistling in my ears. Cracking open my eyes, a sudden sense of vertigo clenching at my stomach, I watched as the fog I had thought we were in fell behind and gave way to the sight of both thatched and tiled roofing below as the black sand-moths began to spiral down through the dying wisps of smoke rising from the shadows of chimneys.
Again, without warning, the creatures jerked suddenly right, their lazy flight seemingly forgotten as they made straight for a small second story balcony. I gave a small groan, closing my eyes and hoping I wouldn't end up blind from the splintered wood or broken glass that was to come, but it didn't come. Instead, I was dumped unceremoniously upon a hard-wood floor, the cool of the night air no longer chilling my face. Opening my eyes, I watched as the black sand retreated away from me into the shadows, leaving me to shiver in the warmth of the house
Turn her dreams. Only then will you have a foothold to make the rest fear you my liege.
Pushing myself to my hands and knees I slowly tried to get up up, which I did at a sudden jump when I saw the grain of the wood through my pale grey hands. Once standing, I could see the tousled, whitish mane of the mint-green unicorn sleeping at the end of the room... in bed... with a night stand, and a glass of water beside it with another stand at the other side with an alarm-clock. I stepped back with a gasp as she began to toss and turn under her sheets and eventually kick them off, revealing a golden lyre upon her flank.
Emotionally drained as I was, it only made the pit in my chest where my conscience rumbled all the more deafening. Everything just felt too real, I almost wanted pretend I was simply insane, the wash of invading thoughts bulleting every last fear the sleeping mare below me held certainly gave the case some merit, but it was still all more likely that I was now, somehow, this world’s Boogey Man.
This world, it was equal parts darkly-humorous and heartbreaking that in all this madness, how quickly the business of it all settled in my mind. Boogey Man, however, was easiest to swallow given what felt like an empty pit behind my stomach twitched and ached weakly for a 'feeling' of all things. But all it took to send it roaring for a meal was a single glance back to the sleeping mare, a light I hadn't seen before pulsing in, or maybe it was around her. It didn't matter, I was too... hungry, too shaky on my own wispy looking feet to do anything but stagger towards her.
Looking down at her, I wondered just what I had to do, and on an impulse I threw out my hand, but rather than smack her head, it passed through her, horn and all, stopping in the center of her head where it stuck. I wanted to yank out my hand, I did, but the feeling of... dreams, yes, her dreams kept my arm frozen in place as the burning happiness of it all began to warm my fingers. And I could see it, just behind my own eyes, like a daydream. There were humans, well, almost humans, they didn't come in magenta and puce on the skin spectrum where I was from. And of those "humans", one, her hair styled much like the unicorns, was sitting there, talking to another. Her friend, the dream echoed. But the longer I held onto the dream, the more it began to darken. The humans in there all began to look like me. The unicorn, Lyra Heartstrings her dream named her, continued talking her friend, both oblivious to the sudden changes in the dream until the human girl gave a silent scream causing Lyra, both in the dream and in her bed, to stiffen. My little dream me’s began to laugh as they closed in around the two females, sending the dream to collapse as she woke with a start. Lyra gasped, trembling in her bed, obviously trying to hold down the whimper growing in the back of her throat as she pieced together where she really was.
Had I really done it? The hunger was still there, but it was different now, not gone, but... expectant? Waiting?
“Are you scared?” I asked, hoping beyond hope that she would both hear and not hear me.
No sooner had I spoken than I was met with the screech of, “MONSTER HUMAN!” attacking my ears.
The sudden shouting brought the sound of hooves clacking on hardwood paneling outside the room as a tan mare with blue and pink mane slammed open the door, lantern in hoof, and shouted, “Lyra, what’s wrong?”
“THERE, THERE!” Lyra shouted, pointing at me with her hoof.
“What's there?” she asked, shaking her head as if she hadn't heard it right the first time.
And with that question I felt the last dregs of doubt melt away. This really was Equestria, I was really my costume, I was living in a cartoon, and I really didn't want anyone to see me and my shame. But no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I found myself sinking through the floor and landing roughly onto the living-room rug below with a thump, wanting for all the world to do a proper job of vanishing me, only for the black-sand to suddenly rise up from the lining of the floor-boards instead and turn my world to black as it washed over me.
Yey.
Much Gusta.
A story that actually does this concept a bit of justice and makes an honest attempt at a story? Holy shit, I'm either hopped up on the world's most mind-breaking drugs, or this is actually happening!
Is that Pitch from RotG?
4435507
The picture or the story? Either way it's yes, and I plan to stick to the movie version because in the book, when it comes down to it, Pitch is a whiny brat who threw a temper tantrum not when countless galaxies of children and families were murdered but only after when HIS was.
4435530 Sweet. Love that movie, and I'll watch this fic till I can judge better.
Take this favorite and like! Keep them well!
4435530 WAIT. You've actually read the books? You're the only other person I've seen!
4438276
They're pretty nice, truth be told, but I have no intention of finishing the series with a flaw that poisonous and irresponsible, that being it's virulent distaste for not killing murderers ((or, as the series put it, coming at an enemy with the intent to kill, i.e. having the murderer pop up, again, and is trying to murder YOU outright, again, with ANOTHER new army)).
interesting.
Nice, despite another sucker into equestria tale in general fanfic's, I can't wait to see what happens next.
A cosplayer who's neither a hero sent in to save Equestria nor a guy who became a villain because of poor pony treatment. This should be interesting...
A few things I noticed:
You seem to be missing commas in certain areas. It might be a good idea to read back and see if you can catch any grammar errors.
The sentence seems to be a little awkward here, almost like a fragment. Try connecting this sentence to the previous one--see if you can combine them in a flowing manner.
It also would be interesting to gain details of this "dream-shaping"--like what it feels like to shape a dream (emotional-wise or five senses-wise). It's a pretty intriguing process for me. Anyways... I await the next chapter, dear author. *salutes*
4440148
I appreciate the help, thank you.
Right, this is going to be good.
I hope.
It is good! A few typos here and there, but nothing too major. Some bits are slightly confusing, but that'll hopefully be resolved in the next couple of chapters.
All in all, good start!
4440375
You're welcome, mate!
This looks interesting... I wonder at what point Luna will come into this? No doubt she will see the OC as a threat to her domain.
I hope Nightmare Moon will be in this story
I like
Wow, I thought this trend had died. Evidently not. Downvoting not only because of principle, but also because this is pretty crappy.
Wouldn't this technically be a crossover?
Is his friend cosplaying as Gamzee?
4452349
Whoa, how'd you guess? Mother ****in' miracles man. *honk*
4451540
Ehhh, I don't think so because it's a cosplayer thing rather than Pitch Black from the Guardians movie itself. But if you can think of some piece of confounding evidence to counter this let me know so I can be more accurate.
love it. gonna make a new fan fiction!
4506489
Your enthusiasm is appreciated, thank you.
is the next chapter going to be out soon?
4511374
Soon...ish
4435530 I find the movie version a bit more sympathetic then the book version.
passed is a past tense verb, you go past something and that means that you have passed it. Also how many bodies does he have?
I see what you did there!
That convention merchant freaking gets around!
5325077
weknowgifs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/you-need-to-diversify-your-bonds-nigga-gif.gif
You say this is stupid, yet I say that it's good! I really like it!
4451246 To quote your avatar (and to describe you):
What a prick.
I preread this? How long ago? ...It looks like I might have missed the hug plothole sitting in the middle of the prologue.
6142535
Well, you gave it the ok for the group, but more importantly, it sounds like I screwed up somewhere, and that's not good. What did I miss?
I think I know what happened to the old boogeyman. The first human child he frightened felt trapped and so jumped on him and beat him to death while screaming "Someone save me!" at the top of his lungs.
I used to have a nightmare as freakish and terrifying to me as that guy's. It started when I was a child and I once had it nearly every night for about a week to the point I was afraid to go to sleep. It was even semi-lucid, so the fear of knowing what was going to happen whenever I showed up was there because I remembered the previous times even in the dream. Eventually I got sick of the fear and when I next had it I wanted for the Big Bad to show up and then jumped him and ripped his throat out with my teeth and used his body to bludgeon the other monsters to death.
Then I had the dream one last time when I was about eighteen. By then I had become a fan of Warhammer 40,000. So, I went Astartes on their asses! I had fun! Then I woke up while mowing down a bunch of nasties with an assault cannon. The looks of terror on their faces and horror in the eyes of the Big Bad were delicious as my laughter rolled over them! Though, that was when I woke up and I couldn't bring back the dream even though it was still night. Stupid, cowardly nightmares! Get. In. My. Crosshairs!
I never had that dream again, no matter how hard I tried... I had wanted to be a Dreadnaught next time! With heavy flamer and power claw!
Chainsworded the next nightmare, haven't had a nightmare since then.
6190852 God dam it
That sounds amazingly fun at the end
And crazily mysteriously wierd and awesome
Good 4 u kicking the crap out of ur childhood nightmares
I had no idea who Pitch Black was, so for a while I thought you were this dude.
evilspeculator.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/boogeyman-615x461.jpg
Awesome story so far. Your pre-reader missed something.
I think that's supposed to be 'threw'
6190852 I feel your pain brethren.
6703151
It is. Thank you for the catch.
In one paragraph, I went from "oh damn" to "I'm going to punch you in the throat. I don't mean a throat jab, either. I mean I'll bend you over for a throat Shoryuken, Heavy Punch variant."
7047094
I do not understand. I did not think my grammar was particularly poor here.
7047134 Indeed. Twas not. Perhaps they meant that you did not describe things enough? Either that or this person needs to go through anger management. Preferably for about three to four years, if not more, considering they are thinking such things with such miniscule provocation.
Hmm... story seems interesting, and the spelling and overall sentence construction seems really decent... but having a misspelling as bizarre as "prolounge" as first chapter title is really off-putting.
Rather than say, "Are you scared?" he should've asked, "Can you hear me?"
But nooooo. The guy has to go and fuck shit up immediately.
is this guy cosplaying as isaac? from the binding of isaac?
7448341
No, it's that one clown guy from the Homestuck thing.