In hindsight, running upstairs was the stupidest move she could have made. She should have immediately run out of the house.
Perhaps it was a remnant of Moondancer’s childhood when the shadows in her room would darken and twist into nightmarish amalgamations, and she would pull the covers over her head and believe it was an impenetrable haven.
She knew, now, that was foolish – even if the creatures that lurked under her bed and in the corners of her room were real, a thin layer of sheet would do nothing to dissuade the wicked claws and jagged teeth she imagined them with. At the time though, it was a clever tactic – her ‘ultimate technique’.
She knew better now… and she wished she didn’t.
Moondancer’s breaths came short in the stuffy darkness she confined herself in. Her heart hammered against her ribs as if seeking escape. Her fur was slick and mussy with sweat.
Being under these thick covers was torture.
But-
Moondancer choked back a whimper as a harsh, shattering sound filtered up from downstairs.
She waited in agonizing suspense for another crash, but the only sound she could hear, if she strained her hearing, was a steady shhff, shhff of something dragging itself on the floor.
Looking.
Searching.
‘I’m so stupid! I’m so stupid!’
Moondancer was a curious pony, a scientific pony, so naturally she couldn’t help but scoff at the flowery prose of an old scripture she found in her family’s attic. Looking between the religious doctrines and so-called ‘heathenry’, Moondancer recognized the structure of an old spell, one that was unlike any she had ever seen.
It took weeks to decipher and complete since the scripture had eschewed much of its arcane matrix in lieu of ominous warnings and there was no way Moondancer would seek outside assistance and let them share the credit. When it was done, she followed the steps and cast the spell in front of a mirror at the stroke of midnight.
For a while, nothing had happened and Moondancer snorted in contempt for her god-fearing ancestors before going to research something else.
Then, as night rolled in and Moondancer went by the body-length mirror, she got the shock of her life.
When she calmed down and confirmed there was no one standing behind her, Moondancer got to work recording the movements of the mare that only seemed to exist within the mirror.
Communication failed in all forms, so Moondancer could only make write what she saw:
The mare was dressed in an old smock that had been carefully patched numerous times. She was a unicorn, but her horn was cracked. Her dull grey eyes seemed to stare through Moondancer.
Every so often, she would turn and look at something to the side and make a worried grimace.
Moondancer recorded feverishly.
Until two days later, the mare suddenly made a horrible expression of pain and silently screamed as she clutched at her chest. Moondancer could only watch in shock as the light in the mare’s eyes faded and she collapsed to the ground.
Moondancer examined the spot in the real world where the mare was lying, but the only thing she could confirm with her instruments was that the spot was slightly colder than the air around it. Frustrated, she threw a sheet over it and went to study something else.
The next night, she went into the room.
The sheet was gone, and the mare was halfway out of the mirror.
Moondancer didn’t think or try to hypothesize; she turned and ran upstairs, her terrified mind regressing to that of a filly seeking comfort in a familiar place.
What a fool she was.
That… thing was going through the ground floor of her home in search of her; she had no idea what it would do if it found her, but that thing’s gaping maw, twisted limbs, and bloodshot eyes made her shudder if she even dared to imagine.
No. Don’t imagine.
Stop being afraid and do something.
Moondancer swallowed thickly and carefully lowered the sheets. Nothing came screaming out of the darkness at her. She lowered them some more and slowly climbed out of bed, her limbs trembling as she tried to make as little noise as possible.
When all four hooves touched carpet, Moondancer stayed there.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Her door stayed closed.
Moondancer sucked in air through her teeth and crept over to her window. If she could get outside, then it’d be fine, right?
She grabbed the latch.
“…!”
She pulled harder.
Tchak
Tchak
Tchak-tchak-tchak-tchak
Moondancer whimpered in her throat. ‘It’s stuck?’ She grit her teeth and put all her weight into the action, but the tiny latch inexplicably defied her and the laws of physics. ‘It was working just this morning!’
Well, her magic could just-
“…!”
Moondancer’s world started to spin as she sank to her belly and prodded her horn. Was this a side-effect of the spell? Was she simply trapped here until that thing found her, or she died from dehydration?
‘No, I don’t want to die! I can’t die because of a spell that I cast!’
With that thought came a surge of defiance; it spread through her limbs like fire and gave her the strength to stand and wipe her tears.
“I c-can’t die. I-I won’t.”
Okay, think:
Her magic was gone, and she couldn’t open a window. The next logical step would be to break the glass… but if that didn’t work, then the noise would just attract the monster.
She could try the door, but if it was anything like the window, then she’d be wasting her time.
Finally, no magic meant she couldn’t defend herself against the monster.
The only option left for her was to… destroy the mirror.
Maybe that, too, was an impossible task, but it was the only one she had.
Moondancer nodded to herself. “I have to try.”
She turned around and shuffled to the door. Placing her ear against it, she listened for the slightest noise.
Shff shff shff
It was pulling itself against the ground, but it seemed to still be on the lower floor. If she was quick and smart, perhaps she could hide, bait it into an empty room, close it to buy time, and run to destroy the mirror – hopefully.
Moondancer took a deep breath and inched the door open as fast as she dared. And thank Faust, her notoriously squeaky hinges chose the right night to behave.
Being out in the hallway made her feel vulnerable; she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her room, but she resisted her base instincts and pushed on, even when each step felt like pushing through concrete mix.
Moondancer did a double-take on a painting hanging from the wall and carefully took it down, clutching it under one leg.
‘Almost there…’
She could see the stairway’s landing ahead of her. Any second, she expected to see a ghastly face pop up and come screeching at her.
Moondancer licked her dry lips as she stopped by the guest room and pushed the door open before scooting back into an alcove for holding spare towels. It took some effort, but she managed to fit herself in and use the towels as cover; she was almost certain she was completely hidden.
Now… now came the hard part.
Moondancer knew no amount of stalling would calm her nerves, so she spat in the face of caution and banged the wall with the painting’s frame.
Nothing.
Her heart lurched as she banged it a second time.
Nothing-
-but then shhff shhff shhff coming to the stairs at an alarming pace.
Moondancer swallowed a shriek, flung the painting into the guest room, and squeezed into the alcove with such intensity that it hurt.
Shhff-thump shhff-thump shhff-thump, as it came up the stairs.
Moondancer squeezed her eyes shut and covered her mouth.
Shhhfff
Thump
It was right in front of her, and it was so quiet now, not even a trace of breathing.
She sat and waited for the moment the towels would be ripped away from her.
But shhff shhff as it crawled into the guest room.
‘Yes, yes, thank you, Mother Faust!’
Moondancer shakily pushed the towel in front of her to the side. She could see it; the thing’s back was to her as it dragged itself forward, broken hind legs trailing behind it like a malformed tail. A cobweb of a mane spread over her back, black as ink.
Seeing it froze Moondancer for a second until her body surged with energy and provoked her into action. She crept out of the alcove and reached for the guest room’s door handle.
She touched it.
And the thing’s head rotated with a wet snap and locked its empty, bloodshot eyes on her.
Moondancer slammed the door shut so hard it shook the walls and barrelled down the stairs.
A mighty CRACK startled her so much she lost her footing and tumbled down the steps, every edge sending pain shooting through her body. She hit the landing and slammed against the wall.
Disoriented, Moondancer struggled to stand and glanced to the top of the stairs.
The monster from the mirror pulled itself into view and croaked wetly before tumbling down in much the same way she did.
Moondancer screamed and bolted.
The room with the mirror was fortunately not far; she grabbed the frame and swung herself in, closed the door, and put the lock into place after her nerve-wracked hooves fumbled a few times.
CRACK
Moondancer fell back with a bleat of terror, but despite the ferocity of the blow, the door held strong.
Still, the thing continued to beat against the door and yank on the handle.
Moondancer ignored it and turned around, her wide eyes narrowing. “You…”
Her reflection glared back.
Moondancer snarled and searched the room. She grabbed a nearby wooden stool and hefted it over, rage giving her more than enough strength.
“Enough of this.”
She reared on her hind legs and brought the stool down-
-only to watch in mounting horror as it bounced off the mirror’s stainless surface.
She picked it up and threw it harder.
It bounced off again.
Moondancer refused to believe what was happening in front of her eyes and tore the room apart using everything she could physically lift to try and smash the mirror. The whole time, the thing’s banging grew more furious and she could hear wood beginning to splinter, driving her terror to greater heights.
Finally, exhausted and unable to deny reality anymore, Moondancer collapsed in front of the mirror and hanged her head, letting the tears she held back fall silently to the floor.
“Fine… You win.”
Another crack brought her attention to the door. She could see hooves ripping a hole in the lower half of the door – she couldn’t even imagine the strength required to do that, nor did she want to imagine what that strength could do to a normal pony.
The monster croaked and pulled a section of the door away and pushed halfway through. It stopped for a moment just to stare at her.
Moondancer swallowed and glanced at the mirror.
She’d resigned herself to her fate… but a defiant light flared within her.
The monstrous mare pushed itself through the hole it made and scuttled wildly at a terrifying pace. Its jaw unhinged and that could have been demented joy etched into its face.
Moondancer’s body reacted at the last second:
She dove to the side, watched as the monster charged straight into the mirror and made the surface ripple like water, lunged for the stool, and heaved it with all her might.
The mare’s gaping face leered at her through the other side and reflected on the many shards that pinwheeled through the air and bouncing against the floor.
The shards shuddered and trembled as the monstrous mare’s dozens of images pounded on their cages.
Then, one by one, the shards blackened like they were stained with ink until they reflected nothing at all.
Moondancer felt a weight lift off her head and ignited her horn with an ecstatic shriek.
“Ha… ha ha ha! Yes! I beat her!” Moondancer laughed in hysterical joy as the tears continued to flow.
She had survived, but just barely. If she had not been so dismissive of her ancestor’s warnings, then this would have never happened in the first place.
But…
At least through this experience, Moondancer could ensure it would never happen again.
“A happy ending? That’s something I did not expect from you.”
“I’m full of surprises, Rares,” Rainbow Dash gave a suave grin. “Honestly, I think horror stories that end badly are kind of lame.”
“But isn’t that kinda the point of a spooky, scary story?” Pinkie Pie questioned. She had rolled herself up in her bed at some point and resembled a pink chrysalis. “It’s about facing something that you can’t get away from no matter how hard you try, so of course all stories end up that way.”
“It doesn’t have to end up like that all the time,” Rainbow Dash argued. “If I’m going into a story knowing the characters are gonna die, then it’s hard for me to care about them. But if I’m not sure how it’s gonna turn out, then I start getting invested. To me, horror is about facing a situation that’s totally unfamiliar and not knowing how things will play out.”
Twilight listened in wonder. She had no idea Rainbow Dash thought that way about the ‘horror genre’ and assumed she was just a mare that got kicks out of sharp-toothed monsters chomping on hapless ponies and showering gore on the screen.
‘I learn something new about my friends even after all these years…’
Pinkie screwed her face up and hummed as she rolled free from her cocoon and became a wingless butterfly. “I guess I get it, but I still think it’s scarier when it’s something you absolutely can’t escape from.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged and got up to blow out a candle. “To each their own, or however that saying goes.”
“Personally…” Rarity began. “I believe the deepest form of horror takes that of psychological torment; it’s about coming to terms with the idea that your world is no longer what it once was and you are ripped suddenly from your comfort zone and forced to confront it.”
Starlight nodded. “I think that way, too.”
“Well, you have your chance to prove it…” Twilight grinned. “Tell us your tale.”