Rainbow Dash's Awesome Nightmare Night Haunted House Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Adventure

by TheDriderPony


You Have Nothing to Fear...

It's too much! There's not enough hours in the day, not enough days in the week. If only you had more time.

"A timepiece. That you may always remember exactly how much time is left and how fleeting it is. May it aid you when time seems meaningless."

A passage from something drifts through your mind out of nowhere. Was it a quote? It feels like someone said that to you once, but you can't quite remember.

You hoof drifts to your side, guided by some unknown impulse. When it rises again, you find you're clutching a simple brass alarm clock.

Where did that come from? You don't have a bag or anything. But it does seem... strangely familiar.

How did that quote go? There was more to it. Something about time being precious and not wasting it on things that aren't important. Though it feels like you've been doing that all your life. How many of the hundreds of reports you've written have actually meant anything? How many thousand of hours spent working here have actually accomplished anything of value?

If only you could just... skip by all the time-wasting nonsense and jump to when things matter.

The tip of your hoof slides forward and idly give the clock hands a spin. A few minutes forward. An hour. Two hours. You spin it faster. Past morning break, past lunch, all the way to—

Bing bong ding dong! Dong ding, bong bing!

The office clock chimes out the end of the day. Bottom Dollar glances up at it in surprise before checking his watch. "Five o'clock already? Pillars preserve us, the day just flew by." He sighs. "Well Miss Dash, I suppose it's too late to bother now. I'll just have one of the temps on second handle it. You have a good weekend."

"Um, yes. You too."

You gather your things into your purse, still unsure of what exactly just happened. In the time it takes you to square everything away, you're the last pony left in the office. You make haste for the door as you organize your plan for you unexpected free evening. You still need to feed Bramblepelt and Stormtiger, but that's not for a few hours. You could do a little shopping on the way home, maybe pick up some new records since you're finally off before the shop closes. Maybe celebrate your good luck with dinner out? See if anyone you know is available. You step across the office threshold—

—and step into the hallway of the haunted house.

You blink several times as memories conflict.

You look down and see your young, fit body not yet ravaged by decades of poor posture. You look up and see your mane, still vibrant and not starting to grey.

"Huh," you remark to nobody. "Well what the heck was that?"

You receive no immediate answer, but you do notice a weight under one wing. You pass it to your hoof and recognize it as the Paperwork your boss, no, the illusion gave you. The words no longer make sense, but if you still have it then it must be important, so you slip it into your Inventory.


The luxurious hall, even in its decrepit state, feels positively opulent compared to the beige walls that cloud your memory. There are six paths open to you from this point. There's a DOOR next to you and also two across the hall. The hallway itself continues both to the LEFT and RIGHT and also has a secondary path splitting off to your RIGHT.