//------------------------------// // Shadow of the Rainbow: I See You... // Story: The Pony Dreadfuls Rise Again // by No one is home //------------------------------// It can’t be a curse. “The problems began when we started to disassemble the machinery.”  the client… no, Madame Alias, always think of them by name… remember who they are, what they did.  “The machinery activates by itself.  It tears off a hoof, sometimes a limb.  The ponies think it's a good thing that no creature has died yet.” “But you don’t think so?”  I am in a safe place right now.  It’s only my voice that is interacting with this monster that pretends to be a person.  I see an inspirational poster on the wall. “You Can Do It, “ The smiling sun proclaims. “You see us as monsters.” The thing… no Iam Noone’s, words are as unsolicited as they are unwelcome.  I need to clear my mind, I have to focus on the case.  “You don’t understand what a real monster is.” “We have motivations, detective,” Alias sneers in my face, “I’ve said before we have the same motivation you do.  Make. Them. Pay.” “You are the ones who deserve to pay!”  I can’t let them get to me!  “I am nothing like you!  The attacks you launched against Equestria were unprovoked!  At least the abomination owns it’s crimes, Alias!  While you pretend to hide behind the Mad Queen’s petrified skirt-tails.  The Canterlot Mangler had the right of it!  I only…” My words catch in my throat… I only what? “You say unprovoked,”  Alias’ voice is a balm like poisoned honey, “You only know the pony royalty of this one universe.  The matronly Celestia, the friendly Twilight, the ‘too kind prince’...” The venom in that last name sets me back…  before I can start to decompress my thoughts, Noone presses forward, with unusual thoughtfulness, while it spews sheer gibberish, “That makes more fish than than a seafood buffet.  Dancing crab legs to draw feed from seahorses in the tuna factory.  The history of canning mackerel would draw the sunfish beneath the waves.” I glance again at the poster in the corner of my eye, the sun’s smile is strained, and it’s caption is sheer meaningless unspelled gibberish.  I look back and forth between my degenerate subordinate only and the poster, only to find the poster gone.  And just like that, the spell is broken. “We are off point,” I state, possibly with more temper than I intend.  Something provoked that.  I try to remember the poster… what did it say, where did it go? “We are being manipulated.”  The mad madame shakes her mane, as if trying to dislodge cobwebs.  “This is why I called your department, this is why as distasteful as I find the thing, I needed Iam Noone.” “How did you do that?” I turn my suspicions on Noone.  “You should be under full magical lockdown.” “I told you, boss,” the thing says it’s oily, jovial tone returned,  “Mr. Sunshine’s not here yet, he’s just trying to break through the fourth wall.  And the fourth wall’s my little bitch.  He almost broke through earlier.  If I hadn’t folded the words in on themselves, you would have seen what a real monster is.  So long as he’s fully on the other side of it, I can vex him easily enough.  But he’s watching from the other side, in between our layer and the readers…” “What nonsense are you spewing?” I demand irately. “Good luck getting a straight answer,” Madame alias rolls her eyes, “I was trapped in a hive mind with it for a near eternity, and it still gives me headaches.  The point I was making is, that the ‘accidents’ somehow called that ‘Sunshine’ thing here.” “That is not how summoning works!”  I find myself growing agitated by this insistent nonsense. “This ain’t magic boss,” Iam says grin, and I find myself asking, was that chair that it lounges in always there? “The subliminal demiplane exists in between the story and the text itself, it plays by different rules.” -=-=-=-=- “I don’t get it it,” The First guard complains, why does it take four of us to keep suicide watch on one conscript?” “Something’s got ‘em spooked,” the second guard the opined. “Yeah, but we’re not even watching her, we’re staring at the walls in the room,” The third guard griped, “Tyrek’s stony flank!  We are doing the opposite of watching the stupid nag.” “I’ve never seen that thing show as much as an ounce of worry,” the mare in question shook her head as she spoke out, “That last boss let him off the leash more.  I’ve seen what it can do.  And if something in the walls scares a thing that can fold reality into words and pictures to walk across town, you better watch the walls.” “Screw this,” the forth guard rolled his eyes, “I’m staring at a door with a window.  There is a coffee pot directly across the hall.  I won’t miss anything.  Anypony else want a cup?” The door opened and the light poured in, scorching the fur from the poor guard of the fourth wall’s face, like a bullet Dust dashed to slam the door, shoving the injured guard rudely out of the way, taking up his vigil.  “Watch the walls!  Remember, fourth one out gets burned!”