Thunderstorm Story

I want to try out another writing experiment. A couple weeks ago, I was sitting here at my computer during a thunderstorm at night, when I suddenly heard the crying of a little girl coming in through my open window. Followed by a flash of lightning. It was an eerie cry and it got me to think about what things might lurk outside during such a thunderstorm in the middle of the night. And then there was this sentence in my head, this question..... "Maybe the little girl needed help?". Of course it was the beginning of a story. So I wrote it down and a story scene of 780 words came out. The beginning of a story that, as it became clear very quickly, was an obvious horror story. My favourite genre.
Not long after that, I was just finished with grocery shopping and sitting on a bench with a small snack, I thought of this story again and was musing about how much I love thunderstorms. And then I had the idea of continuing to write this story each time a thunderstorm happens. I wondered how long it would take to finish the entire story if I work on it only during a thunderstorm. And I got curious. It was a matter of seconds to make the decision.

So I will begin a new writing experiment today. I will post the 780 words I already wrote down and then, following that, there will be a blog entry with a new part of the story each time a thunderstorm happened where I live. The only exception is if it was a thunderstorm that only lasted a few minutes and if I could, therefore, only write down a few sentences. In that case, I will group more than one thunderstorm writing session together in the same blog entry.
Every kind of work on the story will only happen when the lightning flashes above me and when the sky is getting ripped apart by thunder. That can be a whole new scene that adds to the story or reworking and improving a previously written scene. This also includes the final editing process of the story. If there is no thunderstorm, there will be no work on it. Once the story is completely written and edited, it will go up as a usual story submission here.
How long will it take to finish an entire story that way? Months? Years? A decade? I am going to find out. And so will you.

And because this story draws from thunderstorms as inspiration, Tornado Bolt will be the mascot of it:
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Because Tornado Bolt loves thunderstorms just as much as I do. Every time you see Tornado Bolt at the top of a blog entry, you know that a new update for the "Thunderstorm Story" is here.

And now, let's begin. Below is part one of the story, with a working title. Enjoy and tell me what you think! Theories where the story is going are welcome!
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The Cry from the Window (WIP)

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Maybe the little girl needed help? I wasn't sure. And it was dangerous to go out. It was night. The stars were long gone, hidden behind a layer of clouds, like black oil that oozed over them to make the night dark and unfriendly. And scary. The night was scary enough as it was, but these clouds gave it an atmosphere of dread, like the unspeakable, the things you cannot imagine, but that you can feel, were waiting around every corner and around every bush and every tree. Of course this was imagination, nothing else, the mind liked to play tricks at night, even on stallions that considered themselves brave, like I do. But there were real dangers out there. A lightless night as this one, it brought out the thieves and the bandits, the murderers and all the fiendish ponies who preferred to go over their business in the dark, for they would find a rope around their neck if they lived out their desires in broad daylight. This night was made for them.
I decided to go out. I was going to do so only hesitantly and with great caution, but I couldn't leave a young filly out there all alone after I just went over all the dangers that might await me outside of the thick, strong walls of the bourgeois house I was residing in. And it wasn't far. The crying sounded right under my window. What could go wrong? If there was a filly in distress, I would grab her and pull her inside. Only two minutes, maybe three, and we would both be in safety again. So I thought, at least.
When I grabbed my coat from the hanger, it started raining. Then lightning shone in through my open window, illuminating the wall next to it with a faint and short-lived, blue shine. The thunder followed it five seconds later. It gave me more reason to go out and reason to hurry.
I opened the door of my chamber and hastened down the stairs. I left the door open, for a quick retreat if one should become necessary and I did not expect nor anticipate what a mistake this would turn out as. The rain washed over me as I opened the door of the house onto the wet and dirty streets, blown at me by the vicious wind that I should come to curse. I heard it again, the crying that told of such great misery, and it prevented me from changing my mind. I stepped outside, into the rain, once more leaving the door open. Oh, what fool I was.....
I am still alive to tell the tale, as you can see, my dear friend. But the mistake I made was grave and what price I paid for it.....
The rain whipped into my face, countless, cold, little needles that tormented me like not even the lord I served under would be able to. The forces of nature were harsh, it went through my head, but I did not yet know what in this world was so much harsher, the harshest thing that exists and it only exists to torture ponykind and have fun. But I should learn. I wish I hadn't, but I was going to and I approached the grimy, foul knowledge that was waiting for me with steps of fervor and the wish to help.
The filly was there, merely an inch away from my window, as I had predicted. What pitiful look she gave off, I noticed with dismay, the brown, dirty clothes stained with smears that had their own stories to tell, tragic stories of forlorn suffering, and merely rags anymore around her shivering, scraggy stature, her body half-skeletonized and barely alive. She reached out to me with her forehooves, looking down at the wet cobblestones and sobbing and crying that it broke my heart, a desperate plea for help by a helpless creature. I picked her up, placed her on my back as gently as the rain and the thundering storm allowed me to and ran back into the house. We got there just in time, before a loud crack shattered the night and the only tree in the street became set ablaze by the blue fire from the sky.
I slammed the door shut and locked it twice, now startled and my agitated nerves making me fear more dangers than I could reasonably expect that night. But there was a danger, I tell you, there was one, and locking the door would not protect me from it, from the danger on my back that I foolishly let inside the house of my lord that night.....

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See you during the next thunderstorm!

Stay easy as a filly!

~ Fluttercheer