Somehow, this day is possibly the most absolutely perfect day imaginable. The sun hangs lazily in the sky, showering tender warmth upon the land. The sporadic clouds wandering by dare not to eclipse the sun’s magnificence with their dreary shadows. You don’t really remember why, but you find yourself strolling down Main Street, Ponyville; a large, goofy grin adorns your face as you wave in salutation to all of the pony passerby’s.
“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!” you practically chirp to a young mare shopping one of the many local stalls lining the road. She turns and flips the bangs of her golden mane out of her eyes, smiling in response before returning to her routine. Briefly, you stop to ponder your sudden British accent. You don’t recall having one, but shrug it off anyway. These things happen, after all.
The marketplace in Ponyville is bustling with business, the shops and stalls all filled with incredible variety. As you step down the lane, you can’t help but notice some of the myriad wares: vegetables, furniture, flowers (“maybe I should try here instead of Roseluck’s next time…”), and even an out of place lap-top computer. This last one gives you pause seeing as modern human technologies are relatively hard to come by in Equestria– but again, these ponies have surprised you before. Who knows what sort of mystical technologies they have?
Just as that thought crosses your mind, so does a car cross your path! You bow heartily to the driver, making sure to take off the top hat you were apparently wearing. The driver smiles at you greatly, twirling a large moustache with a free hoof and honking the old-timey horn with his other. You let out a loud belly-laugh and wave a farewell to the driver as the car disappears down the lane.
At last, your aimless walk seems to come to an end when you find yourself standing in front of what can only be described as a Wild-West style saloon – straight out of old-Appleoosa. Much like the aged panels of wood that make up the structure, the sky above this building is dark and grey. The warmth of the sun you had enjoyed just moments before had seemingly vanished, hidden behind menacing clouds. The sight of the structure fills you with an unexplainable dread. Sweat forms on your brow as you take a wary step toward the entrance, almost as if some invisible force was drawing you near.
A low, menacing growl echoes from inside the building, freezing you in your spot. From within the darkened frame of the doorway you can barely make out fiery eyes, seemingly floating in the nothingness. Your heart begins to beat faster, unsure of what to expect.
“Yooooouuuuuuuuuu….” A deep voice snarls.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Your brain urges you to flee, but you can’t move from your spot.
“Yoooooouuuuuuuuu…” the voice starts again. A thick, overly large smile appears in the doorframe hovering just a little too low from the glowering eyes. The myriad teeth are yellowed and jagged, almost fake in appearance. There are far too many of them, all jutting at random angles. “You really think you’re good enough?”
A lump in your throat prevents you from talking. Several awkward swallows later, you manage to force out a meager reply. “W-what do y-”
The voice roars in laughter, shaking the rickety wooden building it’s hiding in – and seemingly the whole world with it. “You’re absolutely pathetic!” The red eyes refuse to blink, instead burning holes into your very being.
“I – I don’t understand…” you start, attempting to avert your eyes from the terrifying gaze. “What do you even mean?”
The eyes of your unknown assailant faded into the black of the unlit entrance, leaving the sickening grin hovering in the blackness. “If you have to ask, you’re even worse than I thought.”
SLAM!
You roll headfirst out of your bed and onto the floor in a heap. The sound of the apartment door slamming shut shakes you from your stupor and reverberates in your mind. You feel the rising tremors of a headache pulse from your forehead.
“Ooooooh, crap.” You groan, rubbing at the soon-to-be bruise. Your eyes survey the bed room, half expecting the monstrous grin and flaming eyes to still be suspended in thin air. Finally, your gaze falls upon the now empty bed. Gone was not only the bizarre dream, but your companion as well – the usual lump in the sheets that represented Lyra was missing.
Not good enough… the voice from your dream taunted. But what did it mean?
You shake your head back to reality and take to starting your day, grinding through the usual mundanities of showering, dressing and haphazardly attempting to straighten up the bedroom. This last one always proves difficult when you’d much rather be doing anything than cleaning up Lyra’s messes.
After what feels like an eternity, you’re finally free to continue with the most important morning ritual of them all: devouring your breakfast. You step into the kitchen, pausing only to stretch.
“Morning, Bon-Bon.” You manage, lumbering over toward the counter. The cupboards are filled to the brim with opened bags of snacks (all long since expired) and trash. You sigh, digging your hand in the mess to fish out a box of Raisin Bran – unfortunately the only thing from the human world that seemed to exist in Equestria; a cereal that transcends dimensions in both physicality and in its own mediocrity.
The cream-coloured mare grunts in response as she grabs her cup of coffee and puts it to her mouth, sipping loudly. In stark contrast, she then gently, noiselessly lowers the cup back to the table.
You sit at the chair across from your roommate and pour a bowl full of the unimpressive cereal. The clinking sound of the bran flakes briefly cuts through the increasingly awkward silence. Your mouth opens as if you have something to say, but your hand prevents you with a spoonful of mushy raisins.
Briefly you look up from the bowl to find Bon-Bon’s turquoise drill-bit eyes burrowing into your skull; the heat emanating from her gaze is enough to make you choke on your current mouthful of cereal. You cough loudly, desperately attempting to hack up a stray flake that lodged itself in your throat. Tears stream down your face as your lungs fight for each breath.
“Serves you right.” The mare practically hisses, crossing her forelegs. Her brows are furrowed, only slightly hidden by her pink and dark blue mane.
“W-what do-” The coughing starts up again, stopping you mid sentence. Your hand shoots up, signaling the mare to pause while you attempt to regain your composure. But this serves no purpose but to give Bon-Bon an opening.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” She smacks a hoof on the table, knocking her coffee mug uncomfortably close to the edge. “Lyra hasn’t talked to me in a week! Every morning she wakes up and gallops out of here without a single word! And at night…” her voice trails off as she leans back into her seat. “Every night she comes home and goes straight to bed. It’s like I don’t exist anymore…”
A frown crosses the mare’s face; she looks hurt, wounded even. Her eyes scan your face, sizing you up while waiting for your retort. You open your mouth to speak, but before you have a chance Bon-Bon rockets forward in her chair once more on the attack. “What did you do to her?! You’d better not have hurt her…” Tears are forming around the corners of her eyes. “You’d better not have broken my trust… Or her trust…”
You pause before speaking, watching the mare sitting before you shiver in a mix of rage and distress. “Bon-Bon…” you start softly. “I love Lyra. I’m not doing anything to hurt her that I know of. In fact,” you pause and reach your hand out to the mare comfortingly. Bon-Bon reels back as if you had just stabbed her, her teeth are bared in a sharp grimace.
“Touch me and you’re dead!” her voice is shrill now. “We take you into our home and this how you repay us?!” she barks, pointing her hoof at you accusingly. “I have half a mi-”
“I think Lyra’s cheating on me!” you shout, interrupting the frenzied mare.
Silence fills the room as the two of you sit entirely frozen waiting for someone to make the first move. It seems like hours before Bon-Bon haphazardly reaches for her coffee mug and misses it, sending it tumbling to the floor. Pieces of porcelain shrapnel skitter across the tiles and a small puddle grows by your feet.
Finally, she speaks. “W-w-what? H-how do you know?” Her voice betrays her confusion and shock. Clearly Bon-Bon was none the wiser to Lyra’s mysterious whereabouts. She leans in close, and glances about the room as if looking for secret cameras. Before long Bon-Bon motions for you to do the same. “Are you sure?” she whispers.
You can smell the coffee on her breath, just barely masking the sweet aroma of seemingly candied breath – undoubtedly a byproduct of working at the town’s local candy store.
You sigh and lean back in your chair. “I… think I may have caught her.” Your voice is weak, tired. Memories of the night before flash just behind your eyes. The flowers. And the name…. Showstopper…
“You think you caught her?” Bon-Bon asks, confusion in her face. “With who? Where?”
“Ok, maybe not exactly…? I don’t know.” You throw your hands up in defeat and bolt from your chair, sending it falling backwards. Immediately your feet take to pacing about the kitchen, Bon-Bon’s blue eyes follow your every movement. “She came home last night and started talking about somepony named Showstopper. And-and this is just-” your voice starts cracking, shaking beneath the weight of your words. Your roommate watches calmly.
“Dammit! She’s been acting so weird lately!” you continue, waving your hands around frantically. “And then there’s that freaky dream with the red eyes! And those-those teeth!” You unconsciously mash your fingers together, mimicking the crooked grin from your nightmare. Your parading around the kitchen has become more and more frenetic, and tears start spilling down your cheeks as you ramble on.
Finally you collapse onto the floor, inches away from the coffee puddle and toppled chair. Slowly you rearrange yourself onto the seat and allow your eyes to lose themselves in the now almost entirely dissolved bowl of Raisin Bran. “I don’t know what to do.” You mutter to yourself.
A gentle touch falls upon your shoulder. Instinctively you turn your gaze to the cream-coloured mare standing beside you. “Listen,” Bon-Bon starts. “I’m sorry for accusing you of anything.” Her face is sincere, her eyes incredibly kind. “I want to help you out.”
“N-no!” you start to panic, pulling back from Bon-Bon’s touch. “I don’t want her to know that you know! O-o-or even that I know! This has to be secret!”
Bon-Bon’s grabs your face and pulls it close to hers. “I swear this will stay between us. This is your problem, and I will not butt in. Cross my heart and hope to fly.”
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“But,” she starts, a sly grin growing on her face. “I do have some ideas for you to try….”