//------------------------------// // A Living Death // Story: Spooked // by Mr. Grimm //------------------------------// Trixie was blind. The darkness that had enshrouded her was so utterly black, so utterly devoid of light, that it was as if she had been stripped of her sight altogether. All other sensations were replaced with an emptiness. The air was noiseless. The floor and wall Trixie curled against seemed to melt away, becoming nothing. Even the musty smell that perpetually hung in the air was gone. The unicorn couldn’t even feel herself breathing anymore. All she was left with was her mind, and she wasn’t sure how much longer it would last. Trixie began to think, desperately trying to use the only thing that reminded her she still existed. But all she could think about was the manor and what it had done to her. The mare had been terrified beyond all reason, far more than anypony should ever be. It had shattered her once powerful ego, reducing her into nothing more than a loose bundle of self-doubt. It had shown her the misery and decrepitude that awaited her in years to come. And now it had trapped her in darkness, leaving her bereft of her senses. Surrounded by the unnatural blackness, unfeeling and frightened, Trixie found herself unable to move. The mare couldn’t tell whether it was the work of the spirit, or if it was merely her own body too scared to move. Maybe it was her mind realizing that moving would be of little use if she couldn’t see anything. But whatever the cause of it, Trixie’s mind began to race with horror as a dreadful realization took place. The unicorn was experiencing a living death. Her mind was suddenly filled with screams she couldn’t scream; with tears she couldn’t cry. Left bare of any sort of feeling, she was little more than a spirit trapped in a useless body. Trixie’s mind became a churning cauldron of fear. She didn’t want to be dead, even if it meant being spared the gruesome fate of becoming a hideous crone. Now she was aware that a mortifying emptiness awaited her after death, a cold void that only offered loneliness, misery, and fear. To exist in such a state for eternity was a thought too horrible for Trixie to imagine. Something made a noise in the darkness that nearly stopped her heart. It was the quiet creak of a grimy door hinge. But it shattered the vacuum Trixie had been trapped in, roaring in her ears like thunder. Next came a blinding sliver of light in the darkness as the door opened an inch. Once her red, tearful eyes adjusted to the pale moonlight that peeked in from the other room, Trixie’s senses returned in a flooded frenzy. The mustiness once again entered the air she breathed, and she found she could move her legs. Dull pain shot through them as she slowly rose to her hooves, reminding her of her terrified flight down the hallway. But the regaining of her senses was only a half-victory. Once again she was susceptible to the horrors wrought by the ghost, who no doubt had freed her from her deathly state for his own twisted purposes. She looked ahead at the long sliver of light in the darkness. It had lost its appeal as a savior, becoming a portal to a place where she would continue to be frightened by the mansion’s otherworldly master. Trixie felt a seething anger flare up inside of her, its flames tempered by bitter despair. The ghost was prodding her forward again, presenting her with a choice of either remaining in her current horror or rushing into a new one. Trixie quietly crept towards the open door, fearing that it might pull shut the moment she grasped its handle. But it remained still as she telepathically gripped the brass knob. The aurora of her magic blinded her; it was far brighter than the moonlight that poured in from the sliver of the doorway. She waited to grow accustomed to it before gently pulling the door open. Her tired muscles stiffened up as she apprehensively awaited to see what lay ahead. She found herself looking into a short hallway, with the silvery hue of the moon pouring in through a small, broken window on the right-hand side. There were two other doors. One was set into the cracked plaster wall to her left, the other lay on the other end of the hall. Trixie stood still for a moment, collecting her wits. The window’s glass had been smashed out, leaving it to look like a square mouth lined with jagged, uneven teeth. Though it led directly to the outside, it was far too small for her to crawl out of. With that option gone, Trixie turned her attention to the door at the end of the hall. She took a step on the moldering carpet that adorned the sagging floor. Once it had been a vivid red, but had faded to the dark, ugly black of dried blood. The unicorn hurriedly scuttled across the hall, her hooves squelching on the damp carpet. Icy autumn air had poured into the hall from the window, chilling Trixie as she passed it by. She soon came to the door, and grabbed its rusted knob with her magic. She had barely turned it an inch before it jarred to a halt. Locked. Trixie grimaced as she released it from her grasp. Her frown opened to let out a squeal of terror as a loud bang sounded off behind her. Trixie whirled around to see the door she’d left open closed, plaster dust pouring off of the subsiding wall surrounding its rectangular form. The unicorn broke into a mad dash the way she had come, letting out a miserable moan. She stopped midway, already aware it wouldn’t open again. The mare bowed her head for a moment before turning to look at the third door that lay across from the window. Its placement made the unicorn wonder if it was a closet. But if there was any chance that it was a step closer to escaping, Trixie was going to take it. The unicorn reached out for the handle with her hoof. The burnt-orange rust flaked off as she pulled the door open. Trixie’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as she saw a black void tunneling into the ground before her. The faint rays of the moon poured in from behind her fear-frozen body to shed light on a warped stairway of rotting planks that led into the earth. A sudden draft of clammy air came rushing from the depths of the lightless pit, bringing along with it a smell of moist soil and stale air that wormed its way into Trixie’s nostrils. Cobwebs fluttered above her head as the draft entered the halls, tearing some of the tangled structures free. She felt panic overtake her mind once more. The only way out of the hall was to descend down the steep, narrow stairway into the unknown. Trixie’s breath came in short, stiff rasps as she backed away from doorway, too frightened to close it. The tunnel seemed to be beckoning her to her grave; to join the dead as they rotted in the earth beneath her hooves. The torrent pounding of her heart told the mare that she still alive. So did the sweat that poured down her shaky frame. Trixie let out a whimper as she realized the inevitable. No matter how terrified she was of the hungry tunnel, no matter how much she loathed it, she was going to willingly walk down its steps into the mansion’s very foundation. The unicorn had driven herself further and further into the derelict house, and knew she would keep going until she escaped or died trying. She tried her hardest to not think of what the cost would be. Slowly, almost painfully, she took a step into the dank stairwell. The ancient wood immediately collapsed beneath her hoof. Trixie didn’t have time to scream as she fell forward through the doorway, turning at odd angles as she tumbled into the darkness below. Through the storm of fiery, unending pain and the sickening cracks of her body crashing against the stairs, Trixie managed to let out a fragmented wail of agony as the door quietly closed behind her.