A normal, rainy day in Ponyville

The gentle thrumming of the sewing machine and the constant swishing of magic and clothes could be heard in The Carousel Boutique. The resident seamstress, Rarity, was working with a slow pace. After all, today was a slow day.

Rarity turned her head towards the window and sipped on her chamomile tea. It was raining, a continuous melody that the fashionista thoroughly enjoyed. She didn't know why she chose to work on a day like this, when she could relax with a good book or making a delicious dinner, but for her, making dresses leisurely was a relaxing activity nonetheless.

As she returned to her sawing machine to adjust the satin material used for a new dress, Rarity's eyes widened a bit in confusion and fear, as the sensation that someone was approaching her was unmistakable. The unicorn mare breathed deeply and shook her head. While a strange sensation indeed, it was not a dangerous one when it randomly triggered, and Rarity justified it as her senses playing tricks on her. Loneliness and a weather like this could do this to a pony.

Naturally, of course, just to shake off this strange but at the same time, normal feeling, the fashionista's head turned once again towards the window. And her eyes widened again. "No, it couldn't be...it was just my imagination". Of course she couldn't see something at the edge on her window, because the logical and analytical part of her brain told her that no pony would come on a weather like this to her shop. Sure, it wasn't a thunderstorm, but why would anypony risk getting wet for a cloth? But what if it was urgent? Then if it was indeed a pony, why didn't they already enter? Rarity didn't hear any knock on the door either, so of course, naturally, it wasn't a pony. But she swore she saw something at the edge of her window, as if it passed right as Rarity's head turned, like it was mocking her with her inability to discern it. Maybe it was an animal? An animal that tall though? Yes, since it wasn't a pony. Rarity smiled, pleased with herself.

But that strange feeling didn't pass.

She sipped her chamomile tea, her favorite. No wonder, since the cup was now empty. She should get more tea. But it felt like she was glued to her chair, paralyzed with fear. It was because of that sensation.

It wasn't a pony.

Or maybe Rarity was extremely tired. It happened to her a lot of times. It didn't help that she was overly dramatic at times.

But that strange feeling didn't pass.

As Rarity mustered up the courage...courage. Was courage the proper word? Did she need courage in her own home while she was alone? It was, since Rarity wasn't a coward. Scared sometimes, sure, but not a coward. Everypony gets scared sometimes, by a lot of stupid or innocent things, because it's normal, it's natural. Courageous ponies face their fears, cowards do not. And with that, the seamstress got out of her chair. She felt like she was made of lead, not of bones and flesh. But she got up and turned towards the kitchen.

But that strange feeling didn't pass.

It was more intense.

The door of the Boutique opened slowly and a pony trotted inside. Calm, gently, like the rain outside. Rarity froze in fear, but she wasn't a coward. She turned towards her, she hoped, client. And faced them.

"Welcome to The Carousel Boutique, where everything is-", Rarity stopped as she eyed the pony. She nearly gasped. She nearly fainted. But she wasn't a coward. She was a professional seamstress and she treated everypony equally.

Even if this pony barely resembled a pony. They were lanky, a bit shorter than Mr.Cake, with a brown hide resembling mud. Ugly, disgusting mud. A lot of ponies were brown, nothing wrong with that of course, but not a lot of ponies were bald. This strange pony was lacking both a mane and a tail. He looked...alien like, incomplete. Rarity was almost bald once; she didn't like it. But she was sure some ponies were bald, so nothing wrong with that either. What bothered her, however, was his face. The...stallion? She assumed it was a stallion, but she could be wrong, stared at her with his mouth hanging open, just a bit, as if he constantly wanted to say something, even if he didn't greet her when he entered. Was he mute? Nothing wrong with that of course. But his eyes...his eyes were the darkest shade of black Rarity had ever seen. In fact, Rarity never saw a pony with completely black eyes. She loved black, black was beautiful. Onyx was a black gemstone and she loved it. But onyx shone brightly, this stallion's eyes did not. And it gave him this uncanny appearance of both concentration and haziness. Like his eyes lacked irises. Like he was dead. Like he took some strange potions. The way he carried himself was also strange, like he was on the verge of emptying the contents of his stomach right on her floor. Rarity sure hoped that didn't happen.

"Um, can I help you with something darling?", that was the next thing Rarity could say to this strange pony. She didn't know if he heard her, but as she started to move towards him a bit, his HEAD followed her. Rarity froze again.

And that strange feeling didn't pass.

Rarity wasn't a coward and she wasn't scared by a potential client, she hoped, and tried to move towards him again, but this time with a left angle. The strange bald pony, with his strange, black, foggy, shineless eyes followed her movements...with his HEAD. Rarity walked slowly to the right this time. His head turned to the right. The mare shuddered and couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched by a viper ready to strike. The way the strange pony moved was extremely unnatural, like he was a broken toy that could only move its head because the body broke but it had to entertain its owner somehow. Like it tried its best to do its intended purpose but it failed. Rarity preferred this over the "viper ready to strike" analogy.

"Listen darling, if I can help you with something please say so, if not, I'd like it very much if you'd just exited the Boutique please, since I am quite busy today", lied the mare while slowly backing away from the strange pony. Who followed her movements with his head, like a viper...like a broken toy without a purpose.

The pony suddenly lowered his head towards the ground, as if ashamed. But instead of the sounds of his hooves on the floor, Rarity heard the sound of whispering. It then devolved into a guttural, choking, low rambling.

Like the stallion was hurting.

Like the stallion was crying.

Like the stallion was cursing.

It was more intense.

Rarity was scared out of her mind, but frozen in place. The primal part of her brain told her to run around the stallion, to even jump out of a window, but her more logical and analytical part of her brain told her something that she didn't want to believe. Was it an incantation? Was this strange, bald, scary, fog eyed pony cursing her?

"There's no such things as curses!", screamed Rarity's inner voice, who sounded more like Twilight for a strange reason.

The strange pony mercifully stopped. He lifted his head slowly and looked at the mare. He had the same expression. The same looking eyes. And Rarity's heart was thumping in her chest.

While still keeping his HEAD on the mare, the stallion slowly turned like an owl. But like his head was the body and the body was the head. It was unnatural, creepy.

Like a viper that did not want to lose the sight of its prey.

Like a broken toy that wanted to please its owner.

And finally, mercifully, his head rotated when his body was almost facing forward, and started slowly trotting out of the Carousel Boutique. Scary, unnatural, like the rain outside.

Rarity, naturally, had a hard time sleeping that night. She stayed in bed, trying to read a good book. But the strange day took a toll on her, and the mare slipped into the unforgiving yet comforting embrace of sleep.

The Carousel Boutique's seamstress opened her eyes slowly. She felt rested and ready to start a new day. As she got out of bed and started stretching her limbs, it felt like she was forgetting something. Breakfast maybe? But then Rarity's eyes widened a bit in confusion and fear, as the sensation that someone was approaching her was unmistakable. The unicorn mare breathed deeply and shook her head. While a strange sensation indeed, it was not a dangerous one when it randomly triggered, and Rarity justified it as her senses playing tricks on her. Naturally, of course, just to shake off this strange but at the same time, normal feeling, the fashionista's head turned once again towards the bed. And her eyes widened again. "No, it couldn't be...it was just my imagination".

But as Rarity approached the bed, the logical and analytical part of her brain told her something that she didn't want to believe. Until the mare reached with her forehoof and picked up the thick, purple lock of hair that rested on her white pillowcase. The primal part of her brain told her to screech.

The mare screeched.

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