//------------------------------// // Part One // Story: Grim // by Pegasus sexacus //------------------------------// Grim by Siegfried Danzinger -Part One- Perry was an MLP fanfic author. He liked nothing more than plucking beloved characters from his favorite series and depositing them in absurdly violent and incongruously horrific situations. Authoring a fundamentally original work was simply out of the question; he wouldn't derive anywhere near the emotional satisfaction from mutilating characters of his own creation. Perry was working on a new piece. Perhaps something involving the CMC; he wasn't yet decided on the victims. "The filly wandered into the forest," he typed. He stopped to consider. "The filly wandered into the dark forest." Hideous things seldom happened in broad daylight. The filly wandered into the dark forest. The twenty-something pony enthusiast coaxed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one pale finger and leaned back in his chair with an audible squeak. "What happens now?" He said aloud. "Atmosphere. Have to establish atmosphere." The filly wandered into the dark forest. The branches of the trees seemed to have a life of their own as they swayed in the foul breeze. A branch scraped noisily against the window of the writer's room, and a draft swept over the man as his right ring finger completed the sentence. Perry abandoned his comfortable chair with a muttered curse word and headed towards the window. Closed. "Great. Something's wrong with the heat again," he told himself. Shakily, she held up a lantern against the gloom; casting feeble light- The lights dimmed; flickered. Perry spun around in his chair and swore at no one in particular. "There isn't even a storm," observed the author. As if responding to his complaint, the lights were suddenly restored. "Fine." Perry returned his attention to the computer screen; it had apparently turned off. His forefinger searched for the power button. "Ow!" The exploring finger went quickly into his mouth. "The hell?" Perry withdrew the plump digit and examined it. Blood. Not much. But any blood was more than he would have expected. "Why am I-" The computer screen blinked on: The man wandered into the dark forest. The branches of the trees seemed to have a life of their own as they swayed in the foul breeze. Shakily, he held up a lantern against the gloom; casting feeble light onto a patch of peeling, rotted bark. From nearby there came a sound. Afraid but curious, he leaned in closer. It was then that the lantern's light died. The lights went out in Perry's room; though the computer screen remained lit. A scratching. A terrible scratching; it sounded as though it were in his skull. A wooden, tortured groan that emanated from just in front of him. "What... I don't understand." Perry was confused. "I'm not typing this!" He'd lost control. In his eagerness to move away from the screen, Perry leaned back too far and toppled over in his chair. He floundered on the floor for a few moments; his fingers dragging against the cold- "Dirt? Ground?" Perry got to his knees and closed his fingers over a handful of damp earth. Scratching, scratching. Moaning. Creaking. "Let me wake up now," the man pleaded as he absent-mindedly smeared dirt onto his lens with trembling fingers. "I'm asleep." Another sound. A louder and all the more disconcerting sound. Like thick roots being torn out of the ground with a shrieking, wordless rage. He struggled to his feet, "I'm dreaming." He wasn't dreaming. "I'll wake up any moment now." Perry wouldn't wake from this nightmare. Something vaguely resembling a tentacle lashed out at him from the dark; wrapping tight around his leg with a whip-like snap. His limb was pulled out from under him, and the back of his head was slammed to the ground with such force that the once-black world was suddenly swimming with blinking white spots. A heavy branch crashed down right beside him; its fetid bark scraping against the sweaty, exposed flesh of his face. Perry yelped and clapped a dirty hand over the wound. Something like a gnarled hand - but much larger and covered in hard, leafy barbs - closed around Perry's skull. Scratching, scratching. Perry screamed. Tried to scream. Moaning, shrieking. Who was shrieking? Who was- Perry awoke on the floor of his room. He was dazed. Trembling. Cold sweat clung to his skin. He had apparently lost control of his bladder. "Why am I..." He slowly picked himself up and turned towards the computer screen. It was on. The author stumbled over his chair in the dark; landing hard on his forearms against the unforgiving surface of his computer desk. Maybe, it read, we can do this again sometime. Perry. Perry. PerryPerry. PerryperryPerryPERRYperry.