“Scootaloo, it’s time for bed!”
The orange filly was lying down on her bedroom floor. To the untrained eye, it might have seemed like she was simply playing with her Wonderbolt toys that were scattered across her floor at the foot of her bed. However, in reality, she was doing something else; something far more serious and important.
“Scootaloo!” her Aunt Holiday sternly called to her from the doorway, “you aren’t looking under your bed again, are you?”
Hitting her head against the bed frame, Scootaloo raised her head up and sat up straight. A hoof was rubbing her sore head, “No-ow! I was….uh….looking for one of my action figures! Yeah, I lost Captain Spitfire and I need her to finish the Wonderbolt’s aerial mission!” Scootaloo lied with a guilty smile.
Aunt Holiday wasn’t buying it. She trotted into the room and pointed to one of the figures that were scattered all over the floor, “Well, you can call off the rescue party cause I found her.”
“Oh, heh heh, there she is! Safe and sound,” Scootaloo said with a nervous laugh.
“Come on, Scootaloo, it’s time to pick up your toys and go to bed,” Aunt Holiday instructed before taking a look around the entire room for a moment and seeing how messy it was. “Tomorrow, it’s time for us to entirely clean your room up.”
The room Scootaloo called home wasn’t too large, but the filly certainly made it her own. With her bed up against the wall in the far center, the rest of the walls were bordered with different furniture to help Scootaloo store and organize her belongings, such as clothing, toys, collectables, and more. However, more items were scattered throughout, including jackets simply thrown wherever the young mare thought would be fitting. The closet doors that were supposed to close completely were left ajar due to all the items that Scootaloo tried to simply shove out of the way.
The filly was picking up all of her action figures and placing them into their proper tub, “It’s not that bad!” she claimed.
“Your rain boots are still muddy, and it hasn’t rained in two weeks,” Aunt Holiday said with bewilderment, “I’m….I’m not even sure how that’s possible….”
“They’re fine! Next time I wear them in the rain, they’ll be clean again!” Scootaloo said as she slid the tub of toys away into a cubby.
Her niece’s words did cause Aunt Holiday to crack a smile, “You certainly take after your father. Anyway, first thing tomorrow morning, you, me, and your Auntie Lofty are going to clean this room from top to bottom. Do you understand me, Scootaloo?”
With a defeated sigh, Scootaloo nodded, “Yeah, yeah….”
“Good. Now, did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes,” Scootaloo said as she climbed into her bed.
Aunt Holiday trotted over to Scootaloo’s beside, “"Did you really brush your teeth or are you just saying that?"
“I really did!” Scootaloo said with a giggle.
A warm smile was on Aunt Holiday’s face as she pulled the quilt over the filly’s body, “Good! Now it’s time for you to get some rest.” The mare used her hooves to tuck the quilt under Scootaloo’s body, securing her in place and leaving the filly with just her head resting on her pillow and her front hooves slightly peeking over the top of the quilt.
“Thanks, Aunt Holiday,” Scootaloo yawned as she settled in.
Aunt Holiday got to the bedroom door before she was stopped by Scootaloo’s voice again:
“Um….Aunt Holiday? Can you….can you check under the bed for….” the filly trailed off.
Turning around, Aunt Holiday finished her thought with a half-smile and a small chuckle, “Check under the bed for monsters again?”
Scootaloo nodded. Her face reflected exactly what the filly was feeling: fright, worry, and panic.
A small smirk appeared on Aunt Holiday’s face, “So you were looking for that clown again?”
“It was going to eat me alive!” Scootaloo objected.
Aunt Holiday trotted back to Scootaloo’s bedside. “Are you sure you just didn’t mistake Ruby in the dark? You know how she likes to sleep in closed spaces a lot,” she asked.
“It wasn’t Ruby!” Scootaloo objected, “I know the difference between a crazed monster that is lurking in my room and the cat!”
Aunt Holiday sat down at the far end of the bed and looked at her niece, “Scootaloo, I can assure you, there is nothing hiding underneath your bed. Honestly, if something could live down there with your dirty clothes, it would be a miracle of science and nature.”
“But I know I saw something down there!” Scootaloo claimed as she almost sat up in her bed, “It’s big and scary-looking, and….and….”
“Shhh….” Aunt Holiday placed a hoof on Scootaloo’s blanketed body and gently guided her back down to the mattress, “if it makes you feel better, I’ll look underneath your bed for you.”
Scootaloo nervously nodded in agreement with the idea.
Aunt Holiday stood up to her hooves and lowered herself to look underneath the bed frame. From below, she spoke up, “Nope, no monsters under here.” As she raised herself back up, she did come up with something in her hoof, “But I did find a dragon.” It was a purple dragon plushie.
“There he is! Gimme!” Scootaloo reached out to take the plushe, holding it close to her body.
“But other than a number of toys, clothes, and what I hope are not spilled glasses of juice, there’s nothing under your bed,” Aunt Holiday reported.
“Good, good,” Scootaloo breathed a sigh of relief. “And now can you check the closet?”
As requested, Aunt Holiday trotted to the closet that was on the opposite side of the bed, and to the left of the door that led to the hallway. “Okay, but I assure you, there’s nothing in there either, Scootaloo,” she said, opening one of the ajar doors. “See? Nothing but the pile of your stuff that we are going through tomorrow. Honestly, you really must take after both your father as well as Auntie Lofty when it comes to your packrat tendencies.”
Scootaloo clutched the plushie as she admitted, “I did it to keep the monsters from hiding in there.”
Aunt Holiday closed the closet doors as far as she could, leaving them open with a small gap. “Scootaloo, I know you’re still young and imaginative, and that’s one of the many reasons we love you,” she said as she returned to Scootaloo’s bedside, “but you’ll be getting your cutie mark soon and you’ll need to understand that there are no such things as monsters that hide under your bed or in your closet.”
“But I know what I saw!”
“Are you sure it just wasn’t the lights from outside the window tricking you? Or maybe it was just a bad dream?”
Scotoaloo had a sour expression, “I dunno….”
“It’s all in your head, Scootaloo. You have nothing to worry about,” Aunt Holiday gave a reassuring smile as she lightly and lovingly bopped the filly with a hoof on her forehead, “And if you ever need anything, your Auntie Lofty and I are always here.”
The filly smiled back, even though it was weak, “Thanks.”
“Now, get some rest.” Aunt Holiday trotted to the bedroom door.
“Can you do the thing?”
Aunt Holiday had a small smirk on her face as she made her way back to the bed one last time, “Alright, alright.” At the foot of Scootaloo’s bed, she used one of her hooves to press some imaginary control panel, making beeping and booping noises. She then added commentary, “Activating the super awesome and patented ‘Scoot-a-Shields’.” Then, Aunt Holiday placed her hooves on the edge of her bed and raised them upward, mimicking the raising of a barrier, along with a ‘bvvvvfff’ sound effect. “There we go, now you’re all safe and sound in your bed.”
Scootaloo smiled as she watched the entire process, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Scootaloo,” Aunt Holiday trotted to the door for the final time, “Good night and sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Aunt Holiday.”
The mare turned the light off and pulled the door closed, but left it open just enough to allow any light from the hallway and beyond to trickle into Scootaloo’s room. It was how she preferred it.
There were a few different sources of light that aided in lighting up the room. From within the room there was the faint glow of her old night light that had a dying bulb, a few of her toys and collectables that were giving off a slight glow to them (they were limited edition, after all), and her alarm clock lit up with the current time, 9:37 PM.
From the outside the room, a bit of light poured in from the hallway. Aunt Holiday and Auntie Lofty always got to stay up later than Scootaloo, spending their evenings in the living room. There was also some faint light coming in from the window as it always did from the streetlamps that lined the roads. Normally there would be some sort of moonlight as well, but it was a New Moon, and Scootaloo knew exactly what this meant.
“I know you’re there.”
Her words didn’t get a response. To be fair, Scootaloo wasn’t expecting a response either, but she wanted them to know that she wasn’t going to let them go unnoticed. Not tonight.
Scootaloo’s eyes were becoming more adjusted to the minimal amount of light in her room. She was able to make out different shapes of familiar objects throughout her room. This did relax her, though only for a bit.
Her eyes caught something. By the dresser, Scootaloo saw an object of some sort. What it exactly was, she couldn’t tell, but the filly’s eyes were fixated on it in a desperate attempt to make out what was hiding there. It stared back at her, whatever it was. The piercing eyes dared her to blink first, which Scootaloo took to mean that if she were to do so, it might be the last thing she did.
What was it? The dark hid the monster well, like it had dwelled in these shadows for all of its life. Waiting for Scootaloo to let her guard down for just that one moment, that’s when he will strike, the filly was positive of it. After all, it’s what she would do if the horseshoe was on the other hoof.
With the nightlight’s assistance, Scootaloo figured out who she was engaged in a staring contest with: a plushie resting on top of a pile of her dirty clothes. With a sigh of relief, Scootaloo calmed her nerves. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the limited lighting of her room casted shadows that caused her stuffed plush to appear as some sort of grotesque creature, waiting for her to lower her guard.
“Ha,” Scootaloo softly laughed, “nice try, but it’s going to take more than that to scare me.” Her words didn’t travel far, as it looked as if she was talking to herself.
The comfort didn’t last long, as the pony’s eyes travelled across her room again, this time to the cracked door that allowed for a little light to come in from the hallway. It was the light that came from the living room down the hall, where her Aunts were. Scootaloo knew this, she knew her Aunts’ house like the back of her hoof. But what bothered her was the sound of hoofsteps she heard. Steady, composed, and unsettling stride was audible to the filly. The sound slowly grew as did the shadow that was growing in the light.
“Aunt Holiday?”
No answer.
“Auntie Lofty?”
Again, no answer.
The shadow held its position, paused as if it was biding it’s time. Before Scootaloo could ask again if it was one of her Aunts, the light in the hallway suddenly shut off.
Without a word, Scootaloo’s heart jumped and her body froze in dread.
“The cat. It had to be Ruby,” Scootaloo told herself. “Yeah….it had to be her….”
Ruby was the cat that Aunt Holiday and Auntie Lofty had ever since they moved in together. The once vibrant and energetic kitten that was the wonderful hoofful that brought Scootaloo’s Aunts together had grown into a tired but loving cat that acted as a sort of guardian of the household. Scootaloo had doubts of Ruby’s guard duties, however, as she always seemed to be absent when the filly needed backup against the possible monster-sightings in her room.
“Or….Or maybe that’s what it looks like when Auntie Lofty turns off the lights in the living room? Th-That could also make sense….”
Scootaloo was often quick to fall asleep after being tucked in, so perhaps it was just the light going off. But she had noticed her sightings of the creatures had only been on nights when the moon was not in the night sky, and only after both of her Aunts had gone to bed. It seemed that the setting was right for the monsters to visit again.
“Ruby?” Scootaloo called out, lightly patting her bed to call the cat to her, “Are you there?”
There was no response. No meowing, no movement, nothing.
Scootaloo had an overactive imagination. It often would get her in a bit of trouble (like the time she was sure King Sombra was hiding in the aisle of that pottery store). Even her closest friends, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, were becoming a bit annoyed by Scootaloo’s wild claims. She had told them about the various monsters that the filly said haunted her room, but they brushed off her. Even Scootaloo’s insistence that they spend the night at her place to study closely were ignored, even after Scootaloo suggested the possibility of paranormal investigation cutie marks.
“It’s nothing,” the filly said to herself, hoping to calm the nerves that were going haywire, “it’s absolutely nothing….”
Again, her words didn’t travel far beyond her own ears. Nor did they have the intended effect. Reaching to the side of her bed, Scootaloo grabbed a cricket bat. It was her Auntie Lofty’s bat that she was ‘borrowing’ for a few weeks as the Cutie Mark Crusaders were planning on trying their hoof at cricket. While they gave the sport a try, they were more confused by two questions that they had: why does Auntie Lofty like cricket so much and how does the game even work? In fact, most of the Crusaders time playing the game was wondering if they were even playing it correctly, since Sweetie Belle insisted on having a helmet on while being the bowler. While Apple Bloom had a slight knack for the sport, Scootaloo enjoyed hitting things with the bat. Tonight, however, Scootaloo was planning on using it for a different kind of homerun.
Clutching the plushie in one hoof and with the bat in her mouth, she looked towards the doorway in front of her. The dim lighting was more than enough for her to fix her gaze upon the ajar door. Her body was trembling and she tried her best to calm herself with deep breaths.
“I know you’re there….show yourself,” she demanded.
At Scootaloo’s words, the door slowly opened without a sound. The door’s movement caused the pony’s body to seize up in dread as a number of thoughts flooded her mind. How was it opening? What was on the other side? What will Scootaloo do?
The door was maybe halfway open before revealing a sort of creature on the other side. Lit up by the nightlight and the few other sources of light in the room, Scootaloo was able to make it out. It looked like a dog on all fours, but definitely bigger than Apple Bloom’s dog, Winona. It’s coat was dark, most likely black since all light that shined onto it was quickly absorbed into its darkness. The most distinguishing feature was the massive, singular red eye that seemed to glow in the dark right above its muzzle. If it was moving into the room, its steps had no sound against the hardwood floor, but its composed and deep breathing was more than audible to the filly.
Seeing the creature before her instantly sparked the ‘fight-or-flight’ response in Scootaloo in a fraction of a second. With little more than a half of a thought, Scootaloo threw her dragon plush at the still slowly opening door. A soft thud confirmed that the plush made contact with the door, causing it to change direction and return to its former ajar state. The plush fell to the floor and the door hid the four-legged creature.
A victorious smile appeared on the pony’s face, but it was quickly washed away by something she had been fearing all night: the dim nightlight in her room burned out, casting the bedroom into more darkness.
“Oh no….oh Celestia no….” she mumbled quietly to herself.
The amount of light in the room dropped significantly. The main light now came from her alarm clock and the streetlights from outside the window. Her eyes, thankfully, quickly adjusted to the lack of light. But just because she could sort of make out shapes in the dark of her room didn’t mean she was okay, as her mind was focused on something else.
“Why did I throw the plushie and not the bat….” she asked herself, holding on tightly to the wooden bat as if she was begging it to give her some sort of comfort.
As much as Scootaloo wanted to get out of her bed to retrieve her plush and to close the door to keep that….thing out, she couldn’t find the strength to move. Setting hooves down on the hardwood floor and out of the forcefield would mean the end. It didn’t help that she couldn’t easily see the door either. Scootaloo could sort of see it, part of it anyway. She knew her room, but in the darkness of night, it was a whole different story. What if she ran into her toy chest or her dresser? Or what if she tripped over one the toys or clothes that had scattered all over her room? Maybe Aunt Holiday's point about keeping her room clean had some merit after all.
In the blackness of the bedroom, there was some movement. Scootaloo froze as she heard something move. The sound was soft and gentle, as if they were carefully calculated movements in the dark. She tried to think what it could be, anything really. Ruby, maybe? Maybe Ruby came in during the dark and she wanted to sleep with Scootaloo in her bed. The filly didn’t like the cat sleeping on her bed, but given the evening she was having, Scootaloo could use the company.
The young pegasus held her breath, listening for any changes. There was something, almost like scratching. It was the kind of scratching that Scootaloo knew well due to Ruby pawing at her bedroom door.
‘Ruby, it’s just Ruby being a cat,’ Scootaloo thought as she breathed a huge sigh of relief.
The sound continued for a couple more seconds and abruptly stopped. Scootaloo figured Ruby got bored and left her room. It made sense to the filly and helped calm her. This allowed her to settle back into her bed.
‘It’s just my mind playing tricks on me,’ Scootaloo thought to reassured herself. She had a relaxed smile now, however, but she still had a tight grasp on the cricket bat. ‘After all, I have the Scoot-a-Shield up. Aunt Holiday put it up, and Auntie Lofty installed it herself. Only I can decide what comes in and what goes out.’
Something brushed against her body. Her eyes opened widely in confusion, but only saw pitch black. She moved her hoof to what was touching her. She felt around for what was being pressed against her front limb. It had a very soft and almost fluffy texture to it. It was her dragon plushie.
“Wait a second, didn’t I throw the plushie at the door?” she asked as she felt around the entire plush. Her knowledge and memory of the toy confirmed it.
A low voice responded, “Just returning it back to you.”
Scootaloo’s face grew extremely pale at two things: the sudden voice she thought she heard and something she felt holding the plush up against her which could only be described as a cold claw.
The supposed claw seemed let go of the plushie onto Scootaloo’s bed. The pony gripped the dragon plush with all of her might as her mind and heart both raced. She thought about what she just felt. It was like a claw that was both clammy and bumpy to the touch. It felt fleshy, hairy, and icy all at once. Scootaloo’s limbs grew goosebumps as her mind continued to think about what had just happened.
“Who….What the buck was that….that freaky thing?” she muttered to herself.
“I might be a monster, but I have feelings!” the voice called back with a bit of attitude “Words hurt, you know!”
“I’m….I’m sorry?” Scootaloo genuinely apologized with some confusion.
“Well, you should be,” the voice replied. “Also, I would like to request that you clean out underneath your bed. It’s absolutely disgusting underneath this bed. I don’t like sharing it with all these ants who are eating all this food you hide down here. Also, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but these scattered jellybeans are as hard as rocks.”
Scootaloo wasn’t sure how to truly answer, but did nevertheless, “O-Okay….”
“Thanks. Now have a good night, I need to get some rest myself,” the disembodied voice spoke, in almost a friendly manner before going completely silent.
Again, the filly’s mind returned to one question: who or what was that? Is that the clown thing that keeps appearing when she’s trying to sleep? Or was it something far worse? Her heart was still pounding hard as she thought about it. She wanted to call back to whatever it was, but she couldn’t find the courage. Despite all the horror and dread she was feeling, Scootaloo did have a bit of a crazed smile though, as she knew she had something to help prove to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle that she wasn’t insane. She had proof that there truly were monsters under her bed.
Scootaloo’s mind continued to gallop as fast as her heart was beating in the dark and still room. However, amongst the silence, the filly began to hear something new. A soft murmuring. If it wasn’t otherwise silent, she wouldn’t even think that she heard anything at all. The pony listened in closely, hoping to figure out who it was. It had to be Aunt Holiday or Auntie Lofty, right? The two of them sometimes stay up late and watch bad sci-fi movies every so often, maybe it was one of those nights. Without moving a muscle, Scootaloo listened in. What she heard wasn’t anything she heard before. It wasn’t Poneish or anything like that, but rather the sounds of some sort of dark and deep mumbling in a language from some other realm.
Against every fiber of her being telling her otherwise, Scootaloo raised her head up to where she thought the source of the murmuring was coming from. After all, it couldn’t be anything even stranger than what she thought has already happened. Her head raised, she looked through the dimly-lit darkness toward her closet doors which were now more opened with a figure standing between them. It was a tall, imposing figure that towered the closet doorway itself. The being looked to be composed entirely of a mass of moving shadows and smoke. Scootaloo could not see any sort of features of this being, but even with the lack of eyes, she felt a piercing glare from it.
The filly was paralyzed with fear as she continued her staring contest with the shadow being. She slowly and carefully lowered her head back to her pillow, continuing to hear the unnerving sounds from that creature. Finding the strength in her body to tap upon the top of her mattress, Scootaloo asked for help:
“Hey….hey, are you still up? Monste- ….um, creature that lives under my bed, are you still there?”
It took a moment, but the voice replied with a yawn, “Yeah, what is it Scootaloo? I’m trying to sleep.”
Scootaloo had a slight chill run down her back, “How….How do you know my name?”
“I live under your bed, of course I know your name,” the voice explained with a mild annoyance and exhaustion, “Now what is it?”
The filly tried hard not to dwell on exactly what the voice said and continued, “There’s something standing in my closet….what is it?”
“Oh, that’s just a shadow being. They just live here with the rest of us,” the voice answered with a flippant attitude.
“Us?!” Scootaloo didn’t like what she just heard.
“Well, yeah, you didn’t think you lived in this place all by yourself, did you? Anyway, they just sort of float there and do their own thing. I think they’re just staring at you because they’re disappointed about how messy your room is. Can’t say I blame them.”
Scootaloo paused as she thought about the state of her room. She did have to admit, it was so messy that even Apple Bloom’s pigs found it too filthy. “Is that also why that weird devil dog thing also was looking at me with his evil red eye?” she asked.
“Who, the black shuck? No, he just wants to play fetch.”
“What?”
“Sure, a black shuck might be a demonic entity that prowls graveyards and is a harbinger of death, but it’s still a dog.”
The small filly still had a number of questions to ask about everything that had happened this evening, however she decided it was better to simply cut her losses. “At least I didn’t see that creepy clown tonight.”
“A creepy clown? What are you talking abo-” the voice spoke for a moment before making a realization, “Oh, that clown you saw was me.”
“You’re….” Scootaloo’s eyes widened as she heard the voice’s words, “You’re that creepy, filly-eating clown?”
“Yes and no. It’s a form I took a while back when I heard that foals and fillies liked clowns,” the voice explained with a hint of embarrassment. “Well, the point is that now I know that trying to make friends at night in the form of a clown is not the best idea. Sorry, that was entirely my bad.”
Scootaloo’s voice was shaking a bit, “So….you change forms and you eat ponies?”
“Hey, that’s a very hurtful stereotype! I don’t eat ponies!” the voice protested, “Just the ones who don’t clean their rooms.”
The filly’s body seized up at the voice’s words.
“Kidding, I’m kidding!” the voice insisted.
“Not funny!”
---------------
There was a knocking on the bedroom door followed by the turning on of the overhead light.
“Knock knock!” a cheerful voice greeted, “It’s time to get up.”
Scootaloo opened her eyes and rose up in her bed. She saw that Aunt Holiday was in the doorway, greeting the filly. Scootaloo yawned and rubbed her eyes with her hooves.
“How’d you sleep, Scootaloo?” Aunt Holiday asked, noticing she was looking exhausted.
The young pony wasn’t sure how to respond. She took a moment to find the right words, “It was….alright, I guess. I had a really weird nightmare. It felt really real, too”
“Oh dear, are you okay?” Scootaloo’s aunt asked with concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” the filly got out of her bed and stretched her limbs and wings.
Aunt Holiday breathed a small sigh of relief, “Thank Celestia. You know you can always talk to me or your Auntie Lofty if you have any more bad dreams.”
“Thanks, Aunt Holiday,” Scootaloo smiled.
The mare nodded, “Of course. Now, how about some breakfast?”
“Okay. And after that, can we maybe clean my room up? I think it’s way overdue.”
END