THE ANGEL IN RED

Inkquill

Act I, Scene V

As the pale moon light streamed into the room, as if it was a small river of silvery light through the dark curtains as they fluttered delicately in the soft breeze, washing over the slumbering figure of Butterscotch. He laid there motionless on his side, the soft covers draped over his body, shifting ever so slightly with the rising and falling of his chest.

The air was still in the dark room, the only noise being the soft breaths of the sleeping stallion. However, that quickly changed as he began to stir.

Shifting nervously in his bed, the cream-colored Pegasus’s eyes slowly fluttered open and blinked rapidly as his slumber was broken. Raising a hoof to the ridge of his snout, he let out a small groan as he propped himself up with his elbow, taking in a deep cleansing breath.

Looking about the room, he found it to be exactly how he had last seen it before retiring for the night. The door was shut, the curtains were drawn and the candle extinguished by his bedside. However… something was off.

He couldn’t very well explain it to himself, but something was amiss. “H-hello?” He asked softly as his eyes scanned the dimness of the room.

Inside him, he truly wished that nopony would answer, but that hope was soon shattered as a small noise began to creep into his ears. It began as a soft murmur, like a whisper, but it quickly began to grow louder, louder, until it filled his ears and prodded at his eardrums.

His breath grew more rapid as the whispers overtook his ears; a light sweat quickly beginning to form on his brow. “Hello? Hello?” He called as he clutched his sheets. “Dusk? Barb? If this is some kind of joke it’s not funny…”

His heart beat wildly in his chest, sending his blood coursing through his body rich in adrenaline, preparing him to either fight or flight to whatever this intrusion might be. He would have dived out the window if he could, but was frozen still as a new sound entered his ears; the sound of footsteps. Footsteps from down the hall, heading towards his room.

“W-who? Who’s there?” He squeaked in a hushed tone, his eyes fixated on the door. His heart pounding like drum in rhythm of the oncoming footsteps. Each one growing closer, and closer, and closer!

Suddenly, the door flew open with a loud thwamp as it slammed against the wall, prompting the stallion to cower under his sheets, for fear of what might be standing in the doorway.

Butterscotch remained beneath his covers for several more minutes, waiting for something to happen. For something to grab him and rip him out of his bed, but it never came.

He felt his breath steadying as each moment went by, curiosity slowly creeping over him of what could it possibly be that had entered his room unannounced. Perhaps it wasn’t even anything at all? Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him?

Now what was that expression? Curiosity killed the cat? Because it would have seemed that that was all too real the situation as the cyan blue of Butterscotch’s eyes were met with the vivid vermilion of his late night visitor.

There, looming over his bed like a thunderstorm was the shadowy figure of what appeared to be a massive feline; it’s eyes glowing a rich auburn red with white fangs dripping saliva and staring down at the now mortified Pegasus.

His muscles tensed and his lip quivered as the monstrous thing loomed over him; its eyes penetrating his very soul and filling it with dread. He wanted to run, to scream, but he couldn’t; seemingly unable to move as the great cat, it’s coat as black as a Stygian night, bared its fangs and lunged forward, wrapping its gaping jaws around his throat.

He felt tears well up from his eyes as hot fire burned from his jugular; the light quickly leaving his eyes, leaving only darkness in it’s place.

Butterscotch gasped as he shot up out of his bed, his hooves rushing straight up to his throat. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his lungs ached with pain; his breath shaky and uneven.

“Wha? What?!” He stammered as he looked around frantically, but finding the room empty.

Streaming through the partially opened curtains, he could see pale light casting itself across the hardwood of the floor. Reaching over, he parted them and let the light flood the room.

Outside he could see that it was well into the morning, as the mountains and lake side were clearly visible. However, instead of the sun lighting up the sky with brilliant light and serene blue, a thick cloud cover hung heavy above the mountain peaks, dimming the light ever so slightly as if rain was about to fall.

Catching his breath, he pulled the covered off his body and sat upon the edge of the mattress. Another nightmare? How long were these going to plague him?! But they seemed so real…

He lifted his hoof again to his throat, the memory of the burning sting of the beast’s fangs still fresh in his memory.

Slowly and with great hesitation, he flapped his wings and approached it; a mixture of fear and curiosity burning in his eyes.

Gulping down the collecting saliva on his tongue, he peered into the mirror took a breath; tilting his head to the side to inspect his jugular. However, on both sides to his great relief he found nothing.

“It was just a dream…” he said quietly to himself before there came a knock at his door, causing him to jump.

The stallion in question, who had perched himself atop his dresser gasped in relief at hearing the voice and quickly climbed down. “Barbara? Y-yes? Come in?”

He watched as the handle turned and the door slowly swung on it’s hinges, followed by the round face of his dragoness friend peering in with curiosity.

“Oh good, you're up?” She said. “There’s breakfast waiting for you in the dining hall.”

Upon hearing the mentioning of food, it quickly dawned on him just how hungry he actually was, as his stomach gurgled and ached with hollowness, the need for a satisfying meal becoming very prevalent.

“Oh... okay then, thank you." he replied. "Let me get dressed and I'll be there in just a minute…

Barbara could tell something was up with Butterscotch. She could hear the nervous jittering tone in his voice and the evidence of perspiration condensated across his cream-coat and rosé mane. The same look he always had after a long and night terror filled slumber

“You alright Butters?” She inquired, despite knowing full well what troubled him. “You look a little shaken up?

“I’m… I’m alright Barbara.” Butterscotch replied. “Just… a rough night.”

Barbara nodded in understanding. “Well… there’s a hot cup of tea and biscuits waiting for you in the dining hall, Dusk and Lady Eris are already down there.”

Butterscotch nodded as he began to slip on his more regular attire, combing through his troubled mane and trying to make himself look presentable. “Thank you Barb. Just start without me, I’ll be down in a second.” He said with a smile.

Barbara paused for a moment before she gave in to Butterscotch's insistence. “Alright then… see you then.”

She didn’t really want to leave him, she would have preferred if Butterscotch would have just simply come out and told her what had happened, but wanting to respect his wishes, she turned and closed the door behind her before heading back down towards the dining hall to await his arrival.

As he heard the door click, Butterscotch let out a sigh of relief, letting his head hang from his shoulders before looking back into the mirror.

“What did papa always tell me?” He said to himself reassuringly. “Cancel, cancel, cancel. What scares me, don’t think about it, don’t let it have power. Cancel, cancel, cancel.”

With that, he gathered up his things and straightened out his coat, preparing to make his way to the dining table to join his companions and the generous Lady Eris who had offered her home to them.

“Only good comes to me.” He said to himself, channeling the advice of his papa to surround himself in good aura.

With that, he turned and trotted to the door, letting a confident smile spread across his lips. It was a new day, and he was among friends, what did he have to be afraid of?

The Angel in Red

by Inkquill

Act I, Scene V