//------------------------------// // The Dream/ The Face // Story: The Thin Man // by kirbyzilla //------------------------------// The only thing Twilight sparkle could see was a face. A horrible, terrifying face, and the look of it screamed torment. It wore a grin, from ear to ear, with pearl white teeth. The face laced several features that made it recognizable as anything other than a nightmare, such as a nose, eyebrows, and any type of mark or smudge. It had perfectly round eyes, outlined in solid black, with pinpoint like pupils. It was tinted a pale yellow, almost the color of decay itself… The hairline blended with her surroundings, with them both being pure black. But the face made no gestures of ill will, it just, stared. It stared, like a statue, as not a thing on its face moved at all. It was like a picture, and she couldn’t look away. She tried to wake up, but she simply couldn’t, for her nightmare wanted her to get a full night’s sleep. The only thoughts she could conjure were those of fear and absolute dread. Paranoia, and anger. Seemingly, it was as if this face was stirring up every bad feeling a sentient being could feel? It certainly seems that way… She woke with a start. Even as she was freed from that horrid image, it was all that she could think of, the only thought in her usual brilliant mind. Normally, after one had a nightmare, they could easily push it out of their minds, and they could think of the day ahead. It was also common that they would be tired, maybe because they woke before their horrors could set in completely. Neither was the case. It pieced in her mind that this was also an effect of the song that rang in her head, along with the face. The two were partners in making her cower, and were doing their jobs very effectively. But she couldn’t feel sorry for herself right now, there were things to do. The world won’t stop for her- so she went to carry on her daily tasks. “Spike, I-I’ll be leaving. You know what to do,” she said in a rushed voice. She ran out the door. Why did she run? She didn’t know. There was something off-putting about the crowds of ponies that usually roamed the streets, no, maybe its not them… She saw a flash of pale yellow. Twilight snapped her head to where it traveled to. No yellow. She cautiously disregarded it, but still felt a pit in her gut… In front of her, a pony stared at her, bearing a pearl white grin… Her head conflicted with itself. A mind of science wasn’t suited for that of horrors from a children’s lullaby. But it didn’t take a scientific mind to realize that that wasn’t a story meant for children. So, she did the smartest thing her mind could tell her to do. Flee, flee from these horrors that shouldn’t be, that should be tabooed, and forgotten. Who knows? Perhaps they already are, at least to most. She couldn’t close her eyes, for she will just meet the eyes of another. And she can’t remain with them open, as she saw its eyes again. She couldn’t see Celestia, for the pain of such a divine face, disgraced with another of a grotesque nature, would break her down even more. She ran to her home, she ran through the door of it, and she locked herself in an unused room, not giving Spike to even ask what the matter was. He was shocked to say the least. “Twilight, is something the matter?” “Go, Spike. I-I’m fine.” She was shaking. Her voice gave it away. “Obviously not…” Spike replied. He was suspicious. It was apparent that he hadn’t pieced together her strange behavior, and the book that appeared yesterday. “Look, I can tell something’s wrong.” He was met with silence. Twilight could not argue. She could not say anything, for she had nothing to say. He was right, yet he could not know. He would shake away such a silly thought, yes? Because who wants to hear about Twilight’s problems? Her head was foggy. She could not think straight. Every time she thought of one of her friends, or a pony in town, that horrifying face would be the only thing to appear. No amount of magic could help- if she could concentrate enough to cast any. Maybe a bit more sleep could help. Spike was genuinely frightened with Twilight’s recent behavior. Never had she done anything like this- run in her house a couple minutes after leaving and locking herself in a lightless room- it was downright psychotic. Celestia should know… ‘Celestia, I feel as I should inform you that Twilight has done some questionable things today…’ He stopped writing. “No… that’s not good at all…” ‘Celestia I would like to ask for your help, or advice. Just a few minutes after Twilight left this morning, she ran back in and locked herself in a closet, and denied that anything was wrong. She hasn’t left since, and it’s worrying me. ~Spike’ He read it over, nodded, and sent it to Celestia. Several minutes later, he felt his stomach clench, and out came the letter with a puff of green. All it said was- ‘I will see to this problem as soon as I can. Report anything else that may be out of the ordinary.’ “Out of the ordinary…” he remembered the book that had appeared the other day. He wrote a quick note about it and sent it to her. It only took seconds for him to receive her reply: “I’m on my way.” The dream remained the same. She had only wanted a quick nap… but she couldn’t wake. It was stupid of her to sleep… she knew that this would happen… but the moments before the pain of horror are so… serene… so relaxing. The yellowish face had the same grin, the same eyes… but it felt like she hadn’t seen it before. It said no words, and moved not even once. But even if it did- what would become of her? It was, is, only a dream. But fear is more real than you could know.