Sinister Lenses

by Osper

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Even after setting her resolve and saying a little prayer, she had trouble getting her hooves to go very fast into the large foyer beyond the door.

Scraps of old banners hung limply along the walls and the stink of mildew lingered in the air. No pony remains were scattered here for her to trip over but her fear kept her moving at a slow pace regardless.

With her small light in the dark, she crept forward and stayed close to the wall, eventually making it to the end of the hallway. It split off in opposite directions, Finish quickly shining her light down each way.

She might never find Scratch like this if she didn't speak up so she let the lens go and called into the darkness.

“scratch?”

The sound came out in a whisper as she stared down one of those foreboding corridors. She cleared her throat to muster a bit more strength and called again into the left path.

“Scratch?”

She pressed the light back on and turned around to the opposite hall to try calling that way. Something on the floor glinted in the beam of light, calling her over to inspect it. She now held one of the best possible clues she could have found as she looked at Scratch's glasses.

Her moment of joy was ruined as she looked the glasses over. Scratch might have accidentally dropped her headphones and player in the entrance way but her glasses were practically glued to her head when she was awake.

She stashed the glasses in the bag and followed the smaller hallway.

“Scratch?”

She called out a few more times but her voice got weaker as she walked. As much as she wanted to be strong, keeping her legs moving was taking everything she had.

“Finish?”

Finish froze up, the camera dropping from her mouth.

“Scratch!?”

“Finish?”

The voice called back from further in the building but it had responded! She ran, the camera gripped tightly in her teeth so she could move quickly without bumping into the walls.

“Finish? Is that you?”

“Yesh, Shcratch, it'sh me! I'm over here!”

More divergent hallways confused her, halting her hooves in their tracks. She stopped, listening for Scratch to call her again.

“Scratch? Vhere are you?”

She waited for the response, looking left and right as she nervously stamped her hooves. Minutes passed as she rapidly tapped her hoof.

“Scratch?”

“Finish? Is that you?”

It came from her left! Light back on, bouncing back and forth as she jogged, she went deeper and called out to Scratch to keep her talking.

She peered into every room she passed, the light sliding over blackboards and broken desks. It must have at once been a magnificent classroom wing with students passing through constantly. The next cry knocked her out of her searching, pointing her even further inward.

“You're not Finish!”

She was spurred on faster and she could see the half-fallen sign over the door that Scratch's fearful cry had emerged from. The words were barely legible in the dark and the bouncing light illuminated it only briefly as she burst through the door. Library.

“Scratch!?”

The library was huge. A high ceiling and several floors, each filled with rotting bookcases and mildewed books. The smell immediately filled her nostrils and she stepped back as it hit her in one big wave. She snorted through her nose, trying to blow the smell out but it stuck and filled her lungs. She coughed but didn't have time to worry about that as she called out again.

“Scratch! Vhere are you?”

“Finish?”

She had calmed, calling to Finish from between the book cases.

“Scratch come on! We need to go! Get over here!”

“Finish?”

She repeated the word again in her concerned, searching tone.

“Yes! Come!”

“Finish?”

She realized too late how low the temperature had dropped and was dropping. The scattered, scant remains of ponies littered the library and her tiny light barely penetrated the almost growing darkness.

Her father would have slapped her for being so careless.

“You're not Scratch.”

They emerged from the shelves, two of them slipping slowly from the dark recesses of the aisles. Jaws hung open and blank stares met hers as she backed up. The closed door she'd never heard moving bumped into her. Her escape was cut off.

“Finish?”

They circled around, others emerging from the cases, three and then four more sirens encircling her, their mouths slackened and their recordings of their last victims sounding over and over, their voices covering one another.

“Finish?”

“Finish?”

“You're not Finish!”

“NOOOO!”

The last one chilled her bones and she saw them slide forward, their splintered legs not even bothering with the pretense of movement. They had one more message for her, a mockery of her search that would be added to their eternal call, each one speaking in turn.

“Scratch?”

“Scratch?”

“Scratch! Vhere are you?”

“You're not Scratch.”

Finish fell to her knees, her legs shaking too hard to keep her up. She was going to die and Scratch was or already had died. At the end of her life, she would die in one of those unknown corners of the world without ever putting up a fight. She couldn't force a sound through the huge knot in her throat to sing or cry or to even call for help that would never come.

Cold hooves were lain upon her and she felt the chill of death seize her heart. The harsh whisper in her mind forced her eyes open in recognition.

<What's this? My own flesh and blood crying like some diaper-sodden newborn filly? Is this all your life meant to you? I pity the ghosts their new crybaby then.>

Her father. He'd come to mock her in her last moments but she refused to look at his new form, pale and diaphanous and standing over her like the king of all creation, like he usually did.

<All you did was play normal the entire time and look where it got you. I should never have left you with that fool mother of yours who coddled and fretted over you. Even your friend fought back. She sang and prayed and even resorted to her feeble magic. Even a worthless unicorn whore had more guts than my own daughter.>

She would have expected nothing less from her father. The only time he ever bothered to speak to her was to make her feel worthless in her time of dying. She'd always thought the same things about herself...but he'd said something unforgivable. Attacking her was one thing but...but even if he was her father, he couldn't say that!

She forced herself up and the feeling of hooves on her shoulders disappeared, her legs still shaking and her teeth clenched as rage pushed the fear out of her body leaving nothing but smoldering hate. A roar rolled up from deep inside her.

“<You shut your fucking mouth you son of a bitch!>”

There he was beyond the ghosts, somehow having moved closer to the shelves. The sirens startled as she yelled, their broken jaws swaying as they jumped back.

“<Mama loved me! She was one hundred times the parent you could have ever been! She loved ME and cared about ME, not what I was! Where were you when I was scared or crying through all of my childhood?! What did you ever do to raise me?!>”

Finish stomped forward, her eyes glued to her father and completely ignoring the fiends surrounding her. If she'd been able to see herself, she would have seen her eyes glowing with red rage that made the ghosts shrivel at her advance, cowering back like whipped dogs.

“<And Scratch showed me a real life! She invited me to places and showed me what normal ponies were like! She was always there to encourage me and help me and love me! She beat my curse! You don't get to say anything about her, ever! You aren't worth the dirt on her hooves!>”

Silver Salt stood there, his face the same stoic look he always wore. No expression betrayed his thoughts on his daughter's sudden temper. All he did was raise a hoof and point at the camera around her neck.

“<Don't you think it's odd that the only tool I had with me was a camera?>”

He faded from sight, leaving her there in the glow of the cowering monsters. Her anger made her scream after him now that she had the power to talk back to the one pony she'd always wanted to yell at.

“<Don't you run from me!>”

Her glance fell on the camera about her neck and she saw the spirits slowly rising to their feet, their fear of her abating. One floated forward again as it's hunger returned, it's mouth open and parroting again.

“<Don't you run from me!>”

She lifted the camera, hoping she'd figured out her father's insinuation. The flash went off, the lens focused squarely on the being's long face as the capture button went down. It reeled back, it's ghost-flesh sizzling and melting away, the body rotting into a puddle of blue that quickly evaporated into thin air.

Faced with their sudden frail immortality, the other spirits flew away, fleeing back into the shelves and the upper floors to hide in their dilapidated sanctuary and leave this all powerful killer to her own devices.

She was alone again in the barely silence.

The sound that broke into the deep silence was the small crackling of breaking glass. Bits and pieces fell through the again steady glow of the flash. There was something wrong with the lens.

Instead of the fear she'd shrouded herself in up to now, this only provided a minor annoyance as she flipped the camera around. The cracked filter frame was all there was. No actual lens sat under it, just a hole where it normally would have been. The actual lens...wasn't there.

She didn't know how the camera worked and her father had already disappeared. Did the camera really need the filter to work? Where would she get another...?

And she was looking through the solution. The only other lens within miles was on her face and they were pretty much useless without both sides. Of course, Scratch's glasses were in the satchel but they weren't hers to break.

She removed the frames from her ears and put them on the ground. Carefully placing a hoof on the glass, she pulled up on the earpiece with her mouth, popping the lens out.

“Now, how do I get it to-”

As she placed the lens into the ruined filter it snapped to it automatically, almost as though...it had been designed for it? Had her glasses been used in the creation of the camera? She gave it a twist and felt it stick, wedged in the filter frame.

It wasn't impossible. She'd received the glasses from her father and the camera had been his as well. It didn't really matter to her as she stepped further into the library, looping the strap over her neck and pushing the frames of her broken glasses into the satchel.

Scratch had come through here and if she couldn't see the body, she refused to believe her friend was dead. She'd move heaven and hell to find her and Celestia help anything that got in her way.

She was no longer afraid of what the dark was hiding as her hooves kicked books and scrambled through the tunnel of ancient pages. Now she was what hid in the dark.

Comments

[Cap'n BluLead]

Oh Chekhov, you glorious bastard you. I'd have NO idea that the camera was what would be needed.

Seems like Finish's dad wasn't SO bad after all. Now we just need to see if Vinyl is alright, which I hope she is.

Keep going!

[Storm Clouds]

I'm so proud of you, Finish Scared but still going to look after your friend, this is what I call friendship.

Ok, Finish's dad is dead, but he still manages to stalk her through death. Still as much a bastard as ever, obviously.
Hm...Finish didn't like that he insulted her mom and friend. Even the ghosts are scared of her

Maybe it was a good thing that her father's ghost was there. He did help her, somehow. This redeems him, just a little bit. And its good that he managed to get Finish ultra-angry. Now she isn't scared anymore ! :D

Her glasses were the ultimate weapon ! Okay, you can't lose now, Finish ! You go and save Scratch !

Speaking of Scratch, I wonder how she is doing. I guess there isn't a lot she can do against ghosts. She's gonna be traumatized or something I hope Finish gets to her in time before she dies/goes crazy.