//------------------------------//
// Interlude - Canto I: Just A Fading Memory 
// Story: Nightmare's Return 
// by CanterlotGuardian 
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It was still dark when Dash awoke next. After gathering her wits about her, she tried standing up, but found that she could not do so. This time, though, it was not because of any sticky goo on the floor. Rather, icy cold manacles bound her hooves to the ground, chained onto the cold floor which had the sheen of marble to it.

By then, she had regained enough of her senses to look around her and see what was in the room with her, if anything at all was. Once her eyes had re-adjusted to the almost lack of light in the room, she was very surprised to see that there was a large bed in the room. It had a wooden frame that was very exquisitely carved; she could tell that the unicorn who’d done this was a true master of their craft. 

Looking around some more, she saw that there was actually a window in the room, but the curtains were drawn tightly shut, so as to not allow in any light from the outside. Near the bed, there was an ornate lamp, taller than Dash was and shaped in much the same pattern that the bed was.

Dash could only guess whose room this was, but if she had to do so, she would say she was in the room of Chrysalis herself.

She tried to stand up and stretch as she did in the previous room, and found that this time she could do so, but just barely. The chains were lengthened in such a way to allow her just enough room to stand and stretch as she saw fit, but no real movement was facilitated. Nevertheless, Dash was grateful, and she started to exercise her cramped and tired limbs. She had no idea how long she’d been out, but it seemed to her to be not a short length of time.

Straining to hear something- anything- from outside the room, she began to hear the buzzing of wings. It sounded as though there were quite a few of them out there, whoever “them” happened to be. She had a feeling it was the Changelings themselves, but she didn’t want to make any kind of assumption that might have proven fatal to her in the long run.

She sat back down as she began to try to devise a plan of escape. However, her brain was still a bit addled, and that did not bode well for her at all. “Was it a side-effect of whatever material that net was made out of?” she murmured to herself. “Or was it some kind of Changeling drug that Chrysalis gave me while I was out?”

She shook her head a bit violently, as though trying to physically shake away the mental clouding that was fogging up her brain. It didn’t seem to help, though, not that she really thought it would anyways.

Dash could hear footsteps echoing in the hall outside, and every fiber in her being wanted to scream as loudly as she could, cry out so that maybe somepony out there would hear her and let her out. But she kept her tongue; she knew it was only going to be an exercise in futility. And besides, she might actually need that voice of hers for something later on.

She lay down on the marble floor, studying her distorted reflection. From what she could see, she didn’t exactly look as dapper as she normally did. Then again, when was the last time she bathed? Or ate? Or had a night of undrugged sleep, for that matter?

As she looked at herself, the anger in her heart began to well up like a spring newly found, and soon rage won out over reason. She began to scream as loudly as she could, yelling at the top of her lungs, shouting things like “Let me out of here!” and “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you keeping me here like this?”

Her words echoed off the cool, indifferent walls and floor, and if the walls did truly have ears, they showed no indication that they were listening to what she had to say. Nor, for that matter, did anypony else. There was nothing at all to tell Dash that anyone outside the room had heard her screaming. For all she knew, her words may not have left the room at all.

Tears forming at the corners of her eyes, she continued her ravings, all the while growing more and more hoarse as the sharp, biting words left her mouth. Soon, she was less screaming and more whimpering, as the salty tears stung her eyes as they were freed from their ocular prison.

She was only awake for a little longer, and then she succumbed to unconsciousness once more.