A Night at Shadow Station

by MrNelg

Act II

The door swung open to bump against the wall inside. Fluttershy leaned forward into the darkness and looked around. The room was indeed dark, but light from the outside helped illuminate and highlight many of the rooms features.

The centre of the room was taken up by a massive stationary one-cylinder single-acting diesel engine generator which was cordoned off by a small metal fence with gaps on each side to allow for maintenance. The whole piece of machinery was stained a sickly dirty brown rust and shrouded under a layer of cobwebs. She eyed it, before turning to look outside at the station lights. She turned away, suppressing the panic welling within to look back into the room. To her left were stacked numerous barrels, two high, that reeked of diesel. To her right lay a small work desk, with three drawers, a small two layer shelf that held not books, but paper work in old folders. Behind the engine, on the left side, she could make out what looked like a row of three lockers and a bench. Opposite this was a set of stairs that led up to a catwalk which in turn, ran along the edge of the room and out over the generator. Over by the far end of the catwalk, the section that ran along the wall, was a door with a sign on it. There were four ceiling lights and all four of them were smashed.

Curiously, Fluttershy walked over to the desk and chair, to see what the paperwork said. She stepped around a candle holder which lay on the floor next to the desk, the candle long since melted into a hard, glossy puddle all over the floor. The papers on the desk were nothing more than a maintenance schedule for the engine; Its sole purpose was to power the electric lights. On the left side of the desk sat a folder label 'Accident Reports,' and opening it up, she saw that it was full of notes ranging from ponies getting small cuts from broken glass to getting hit by kitchen ware, and even the death of those twins she'd read about in the paper. At the very back, was a newspaper clipping. There was no picture or headline. Some pony had just cut out the story.

A sorrowful day today, as the building of the new train station was marred by the tragic death of the gallant labourer, Pickin Shovel. While digging out the foundation of the stations bathroom, Mr. Shovel accidentally broke through the roof of an underground cave system and plummeted to his untimely death into the caverns below. "It was all so sudden," one co-worker was quoted saying. "One minute he was just digging, the next thing there was... In all my life, I've never heard such a scream." Volunteers have been searching the caverns below for Mr. Shovel's body but have yet to find it. Our hopes and prayers go out to the family he has left behind.

There were indentations showing through from the other side of the clipping, and turning it over, she saw that some pony had scrawled on the back, 'They never did find the body.' Fluttershy put the clipping down and closed the folder. Looking over to the right side of the desk, was a small in-box with more paperwork stacked within. Sitting atop it all, was what appeared to be a hoof written letter. She picked it up and read it.

“Dear Ratchet Gear. It is with no shame in my heart that I write to you this letter of resignation. Too many bizarre, unexplainable events have been occurring around here, and I need to get out before they get me; Just like they got Hickory. I don't care what you say, and you can curse my name to the pits of Tartarus. I've been running this night shift longer than any pony else, and I'm scared out of my mind. There is something seriously wrong with this building, from the foundations to the very rooftop. I cannot stay here any longer, and if you're a smart pony, you won't either. Regards, Sprocket Wheel. Chief Engineer: Night Shift.”

Under the letter was an open envelope. The letter had not even been folded to fit it. Fluttershy immediately left the table to wander over to the lockers, thinking there might be something useful in there. The first locker was rusted shut, but the second locker opened to reveal diddly squat. Opening the third door, she was rewarded with a treasure trove of items. It appeared to belong to a repair pony, for there were numerous tools neatly placed in pouches that hung inside the locker.

On closer inspection, many appeared to be missing. However, there were still nails, screws, a rolled up tape measure, a matchbook, a claw hammer, an oil lantern, a ruler, and even a set square lay pushed away in the back. Fluttershy looked at the oil lantern. Looking around at the dark area's inside the room, this would be mighty handy considering the lights inside weren't on. She leaned inside and carefully picked it up with her mouth. Opening up the tiny glass door, she frowned around the brass handle as she saw that there was no oil within.

With the lantern handle firmly secured between her teeth, Fluttershy looked off to her right. If there were an oil lamp, then surely there would be oil in here somewhere. There was a work bench, hidden in the darkness. There were objects scattered all across the table top, but she wasn't able to make them out. However, she was able to identify one object, nestled up against the side of the table. An oil can.

She trotted over to it, and putting down the lantern, lifted up the can. To her relief, it was heavy with oil. She was careful to remove the cap, and pour the oil into the lantern before heading back over to the locker to fetch the matches. They were old and broke easily as she snapped them off. Finally, she got one and managed to light it, thus lighting up the oil lantern. Closing the door, she picked it up with her mouth and shone it around the back area of the generator room.

The bench that had been cloaked in darkness was revealed to show machine parts and pieces of plumbing pipes strewn all over it. Walking over, she noticed a dust covered clipboard hanging down beside the bench. Putting down the lantern, and picking up the clipboard, she blew the dust off in a great cloud before angling it so that the information could be made legible in the light. The name at the top read H. Dock: Maintenance Engineer. The sheets were a check list of problems that were obviously in need of repair. There were the usual, lights, electrical cords, track switches.

Proceeding down the list, there was a tick next to each problem, followed by a comment by Mr. Dock. The first one was labelled, 'Bar Room: Suspected lights to be faulty.' Mr Dock had ticked it off as completed, and in the comments section wrote, 'Suspect you are right.' A muffled giggle escaped Fluttershy's closed lips. The rest of the comments were professional, but there was still the occasional smart aleck response, as he repaired problem after problem. When she neared the bottom, the ticking and comments stopped, right at the problem marked, 'Bathroom Pipes: Possible Leakage, constant dripping noise heard.' She put the check list back on its hook and retrieving the lantern, moved away from the bench.

She was now behind the massive engine. Its rusting, hulking iron form looming over her like a mountain, engulfing her within its dark shadow. From behind, and in the dark, it looked foreboding. Fluttershy found herself staring at it a lot longer than she should've. She tilted her head slightly. There appeared to be some kind of growth attached to the back of the machine, but in the darkness she could not make any details what so ever. She hoisted the lantern up to bathe it in the light, but the instant she did, the growth disappeared. Fluttershy just gasped, almost dropping the lantern. Experimentally, she turned the lantern away and placed a hoof over it to block out the light. The instant she did, the growth reappeared. Only this time, it appeared to be in a different position.

She quickly removed her hoof and bringing back the light, banished the darkness once more. The growth was gone again. Cowering a little as she bent down to retrieve the lantern, she walked on, moving out into the more lit areas of the room. Darkness in this room was definitely not a place to linger long within.

Ahead of her were the stairs that lead up to the catwalk. Fluttershy followed it with her gaze, the lantern lighting the way. It ran along the upper back wall of the room, before branching out to encompass the engine generator from above. She raised an eyebrow at the realization that it was for ponies to maintain and inspect the top section of the engine. Maybe no Pegasi worked here, or it was constructed for the earth and unicorn ponies.

Near the top of the stairs was an exit. She climbed up the steps and walked over to the door. The sign she'd seen earlier was a simple one that stated, 'All staff are reminded to make sure you are clean before you enter through here.' Placing a hoof to the door, she pushed. It opened with an eerie creak. Inside, the lantern revealed a narrow corridor that lead down to a door that was situated on her left. On the right side of the corridor, were windows showing only dust. Curiously, she wiped her hoof across one of them and peaked out through it. All she saw was the forest outside, and the blackness beyond.

She turned back and carefully walked down the hall. Reaching the door at the other end, she pushed it open. The room inside was dark with too many shadows and unrecognizable black objects. She hoisted the lantern and shone it into the darkness.

It was a bar room. She remembered seeing those stairs on the outside leading up to a sign with a cyder glass on it. Looking in from the door, she was in the far upper corner of the room. To her right, which was the wall the door opened onto, was a wall with windows along it and a door at its centre. To her left, at the very back, was a bar, with various bottles containing Celestia only knew what on the two shelves. Beneath those were four wooden barrels with taps. The bar counter its self was of rotting black wood, which ran across, not too far from the back wall of the room, with a break on the right side, the bar counter door in an upright position. The whole layout and construction gave Fluttershy the impression that this room had only been set up as an after though. As with the cafe counter, an ancient till sat down the far end of the bench, rusted with time. Numerous square stools were situated along its length, waiting patiently for a customer.

The rest of the room was bare. Much like the cafe in the next building across, tables and stools were stacked up against the opposite end of the room, near the windows, on either side of the door. To her immediate left, stood an ancient gramophone on a small cabinet. From the ceiling above hung four light bulbs, now black with age, while circling the room on the walls, where ever there weren't any windows, doors or shelves, were numerous paintings. Below one of the paintings, a landscape, a tarp had puddled on the floor beside a can with no label. Directly opposite Flutershy was a very familiar set of double swing doors.

Carefully, she shone the lantern around in an arc, making sure that there would be no surprises before trotting into the room. The floor boards creaked and groaned under her hooves, much too loudly for her comfort as she walked. She stopped by the cabinet holding the gramophone and eyed the ancient device, before opening the cabinet door. The inside was filled with nothing but old records, and so she closed the door with a soft click. Nothing in there would help her. She started towards the bar.

She rounded the bar counter and peered down back section, but there was nothing back here except for what she'd seen from the door. Barrels, shelves and bottles, all covered in dust. The underside of the counter did have sliding doors. She wondered down and peered into them. Glasses, bowls, empty bottles, even a bucket.

She looked up from the bar to survey the rest of the room. Her eyes fell upon the paintings that lined the walls. They were mostly portraits, with a few landscapes. Those were also very pretty. They depicted ponies frolicking and playing in parks, the beach, and even gardens. The ponies looked like they were having a great time. Their fun was artistically captured for all eternity in the paint on the canvas.

It was then that Fluttershy could feel the fur on the back of her neck standing on end. Her whole body seized up as her eyes scanned the room. She was not alone. She observed the right side of the room. The door to the generator room still hung open. Her eyes moved to the centre of the room, with the exit door directly opposite her. She looked left, towards the other wall, and the swing door. Only the two grime covered windows stared back at her, like unwavering eyes. Slowly, her gaze slid back the other way. She could not quite put her hoof on it, but the room somehow seemed different.

Her eyes came to a stop at one of the landscapes, putting the lantern down so she could get a better look at it. It was the one with the tarp and can beneath it. Four ponies were in a park. A stallion and mare took up the lower left corner of the painting, affectionately nuzzling each other as they sat atop a red and white chequered picnic blanket. Their basket was overflowing with delicious looking vegetables and hay. Their two children were in the centre, playing a game involving a ball with their dog, who was poised in mid jump. Behind them lay the rest of the park. Its neatly trimmed grass was a healthy shade of green, that was interrupted by a crystal blue river that sparkled under Celestias sun. A wooden bridge painted a light shade of red spanned the river towards the forest in the background.

Fluttershy's expression grew more intense. She moved closer towards the painting. In the background, at the edge of the forest, stood a blurry figure. It was pony shaped and stood on all fours, staring stoically off to the right at something the viewer couldn't see. Fluttershy blinked in confusion. That had not been there before. She turned to look at the other landscapes. Painting after painting revealed that they were still the same. She turned back to the new figure in the painting. It was still there. She scratched her mane in bafflement. She looked down at the tarp that had collected on the floor, and the can beside it. Curiously, she lifted the lid and sniffed at it. The overpowering smell of turpentine greeted her.

She whinnied as she snorted loudly, trying to rid her nostrils of the acrid stench. After a few more snorts, her nasal passages were cleared. Why would some pony leave a can of turpentine near a painting? Then realization struck her like a thunderbolt. Her eyes grew wide with panic as she eyed the tarp. It was just the right size to completely cover the painting. Her gaze shot back to the figure in the background.

It was looking at her.

Fluttershy went ridged. It had moved. 'Get out of here', the little voice in the back of her mind started whispering. She slowly bent down, never taking her eyes of the painting, to retrieve her lantern. Then she rose back up, and started backing away.

She then paused. An idea was starting to prance through her mind, and smiled. It was just a painting. She moved forward, keeping her eyes locked on the figure, as she once again put down the lantern and gripped the tarp with both hooves. She lifted it up off the ground, and unfolding it, threw it over the painting, before hooking it around the edges, covering it from view. She stepped back to admire her handy-work, and nearly knocked over the can of turpentine. Grunting she moved it aside, moving it beneath the landscape painting next to her, before turning back to other one. All she could see now was the dull grey tarp, the outline of the painting lining its edges. Her smiled turned triumphant. She may not be brave, but she was smart.

She turned back to the rest of the bar room. There didn't appear to be anything in the room that she could use for defence. Well, she had the lantern, but that would only work against dark rooms; not ghosts. She turned to the swing doors. They led back to the cafe in the other building, back to those giggling fillies. Did she want to take the chance of going back there? The final image she'd seen of them briefly flickered in her mind, and she had some difficulty swallowing the lump forming in her throat.

However, there could be something useful in that kitchen. Her whole body shivered violently at the memory of her last trip there, and she turned back to the bar counter. There hadn't been anything there, so she turned back to the swing door.

Her gaze snapped back to the trap covered painting. The tarp was back on the floor, exposing the landscape to her gaze once more. Again, she found herself saddled with a lack of movement. How? That was the first thought that bellowed within her mind. She had not even heard the tarp slip off, let alone hit the ground. However all coherent thoughts immediately derailed at seeing the painting.

The figure was closer. It now stood on the opposite side of the river, right behind the two foals playing with their dog. Now that it was closer, Fluttershy could see it more clearly. Its face was obscured by an expressionless white porcelain dolls mask. It wore a neat three piece suit, with a black dinner jacket, white undershirt and black bow tie, and the top of its head was crowned by a black top hat.

It was staring straight at her.

Without even uttering one squeak, Fluttershy grabbed the top of the painting and wrenching it off the wall, slamming it face down on the floor. She then gripped one corner with her mouth, and dragged it towards the door that exited to the outside. This abomination was going into the forest. She placed it down and tested the handle. The door opened. She pushed it all the way and looked out at the forest. It wasn't too far a trip if she flew. Turning back, she trotted back inside.

It was the right way up again.

Now the pony was directly in the foreground, dead centre between the fillies and the couple. It could've been her over-active imagination running wild, but the emotionless mask looked furious. She galloped over and rearing up, slammed the painting face down, hard. She then stomped her left hoof down on it, pinning it there, as she bent down, and taking her hoof of the painting, picked it up with her mouth and carried it outside. Beating her wings, she lifted herself up and gently glided over the forest. Her jaws parted and she watched with satisfaction as the painting plummeted into the dead trees below. She listened to the receding sounds as it crashed and banged until with a dull thump, the night air was once more quite.

She sighed with relief as she circled around and landed at the top of the stairs. Walking inside, she closed the door behind her, before turning her gaze to the rest of the paintings. None of them had changed. She walked up to the nearest landscape and scrutinised its background. No masked pony in a suit could be seen. She trotted over to the next. Again empty. She walked over to the last and froze. Behind her, the door was open. Leaning against the side of the door frame, was the painting, back from the forest. It even still had some vines attached to it.

Fluttershy's entire body went stiff, as her wings locked up. This wasn't possible. This wasn't fair. This painting kept coming back no matter what she did. What could she possibly hope to do against something like that? It was then that she saw it. Her fear melted away like butter in a hot summer's afternoon. Never taking her eyes off the painting, she slowly moved forward towards it and then stopped altogether. The masked pony was gone. She looked in the foreground, the background, even turning the painting around, and flipping it back again. Nothing. She picked it up and holding it upside down, shook it. Still nothing.

Experimentally, she trotted outside and heaved it over the railings, watching as it crashed to the ground below. She stared at it, closed her eyes and then opened them again. The painting was still there. She scratched her mane in confusion, then shrugging, turned about and walk back inside. Only she froze half way across the threshold.

There stood something within the shadows, over by the old gramophone. It stared back at her with black, empty eye holes. It stood still like a statue, not even so much as breathing. Fluttershy could not even move herself, as her own breath caught in her throat. A loud vinyl scratch pierced the air like a knife all of a sudden, followed by the gentle pops and clicks of static.

A pleasant sound began to fill the air. Fluttershy blinked the stupor away to realize that the gramophone was now playing. She had not even seen the needle move. Now the record spun round and round, causing the needle to bob up and down as the music played. She flicked an ear at the sounds coming from the brass tube. It was a relaxing, calming tune. Like the sounds a small music box would make.

The sounds were hypnotic. She felt her mind melting away into a sea of calm as her muscles relaxed. Yet she did not collapse. In spite of the sleep washing over her, she felt compelled to move. One hoof moved forward, followed by the other. She was inside the room without even realizing it. She wanted to stop, to know what was happening to her. The instant she did, she felt the urgency to understand just as quickly vanish. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

She was standing before a painting now. Another landscape. Ironically, it was the painting that had been next to the one she'd been trying to get rid of. This one was of some city street at night. A bar of sorts sat on a street corner with glass windows on both sides, allowing the viewer to see not only the interior, but the street behind, as well. There were ponies in the painting, all sitting at the bar counter. Her eyes went glassy. She wanted to join them, talk to them, drink with them.

She reached out with her front hoof and touched the painting. Although her hoof went right through the canvas, she wasn't surprised. The entire painting rippled like the disturbed surface of a pond as her hoof sunk in deeper. She raised her other hoof to grasp a firm hold when she knocked something over with a metallic clang. Liquid spilled out onto the floor and across her hooves as the overwhelming smell of turpentine bombarded her senses.

She cried out in disgust, stumbling back and shaking her head as the stench stung her sensitive nose. She snorted loudly several times before her passages were free of the horrid smell. Blinking a few times, she became aware of her surroundings. The first sight that greeted her was that of the landscape painting of the city bar. Only now it had changed. The city was destroyed. Its buildings in the background reduced to crumbling, charred husks. The streets were cracked and broken, with sections jutting up into the air. Tongues of flame licked out from within their depths, casting disturbing shadows of desperate hooves, reaching in vain for the surface from deep within. The bar its self was a ruin. The windows were smashed while the ponies inside were horribly disfigured, their fur falling off, their skin rotting away to reveal muscles, eye sockets, exposed grinning teeth, and bone beneath.

Fluttershy screamed as she stumbled backwards, away from the grizzly sight before her. Then her memory of the previous events returned as a flash flood, and her gaze swung over to the gramophone.

The masked pony now stood in front of the ancient device, staring at her. The neutrality of the masks expression was gone, replaced with one of rage. Wrinkles now adorned the mask's brows and cheeks as its eye holes were narrowed to dangerous slits and the mouth was twisted into a perfect upside down crescent moon shape.

The music began to filter back into her ears all of a sudden, and she felt herself start to get hazy. No! She could not let herself be snagged again. The music. She had to stop the music, but how? She couldn't just run over and stop the machine, she was already finding it difficult to move and she doubted she'd even make two steps towards it. Even now, she could feel her mind clouding over once more. What could she do? The spilt can still lay at her hooves. On the spur of the moment, she struck out hard with her front leg, kicking the can and sending it flying towards the gramophone. She missed. The can smacked against the side of the wooden cabinet, and glancing off, struck the masked pony in the face with a dull 'thwacking' sound.

There was a loud warped screech, like some pony harshly dragging a needle along the length of a delicate record with little regard, and Fluttershy's ears flattened back against her head. The can clattered to the floor and she could smell the turpentine. There must have been some still left in the can for she could see a small trial trickling out to puddle on the floor. She look up at the masked pony and shrieked with horror.

Its face was ghastly, twisted and melted. Its mouth and eye holes drooping as the whole face sank heavily to the left. The screeching sound was now a low agonizing groan as it seemed to stagger from some unseen weight.

Before she could even twitch, the creature abruptly exploded into a tornado of swirling jet black paint that twisted and somersaulted through the air, before corkscrewing right into the painting Fluttershy had been about to climb into.

Fluttershy stumbled backwards, before looking back at the painting. Nothing. The horrible fun-house mirror image she'd seen as she was about to step into it was gone. There was nothing different about it from the first time she'd seen it. The masked pony was nowhere to be found. Still, just to be on the safe side, she picked up the can. There was still some turpentine left within. She was about to splash it on the painting when she stopped. Her eyes narrowed.

No. This was wrong. This wasn't her.

She lowered the can. Yes, this thing had tried to imprison her, but she wasn't going to resort to stooping to its level. She was Fluttershy; The Element of Kindness. This place was full of monsters, and there was no way in Tartarus that she was going to become one herself. She tilted her head slightly in deep thought. Still, just because she was kind did not mean she was stupid. She had to take some precaution against this thing should it decide to come back for round two. Looking around, she spied the old tarp, and picking it up, placed it over this painting, covering it up completely.

She briefly wondered if she should not bother trying that. This hadn't worked the last time. However, she had wounded it, forcing it to retreat. Licking her lips, she decided to conduct a little test. She turned her back, closed her eyes, before opening them and spinning around, the can held ready just in case. The tarp was still there. She shrugged. Maybe it was too weak from the turpentine for round two.

She rubbed a hoof to her chin, before looking around at the rest of the paintings in the room. What if it could move between them? There wasn't enough cloth or tarps in the room to cover all of them. Maybe she could take them down and turn them around the other way? No, that would take too long. Whatever the answer, it wouldn't be prudent to linger here any longer.

She stood back and once again surveyed the room. There was nothing else in here. She eyed the tarp covered painting. She didn't want to be in the room one second more, but where could she now go? She swung her gaze over to the set of double swing doors. That way led to the cafe, and the twins. She involuntarily shivered. She looked back to the door that would return her to the generator room. She tilted her head slightly in thought. Maybe there was something else back there that she missed. Something she overlooked? Anything to get out of this creepy room.

After picking up the lantern, she trotted back and pushed open the door to the corridor. The inside seemed somewhat darker than before. She looked out the windows and just like the last time, saw only the forest outside. She looked down the hall towards the door, open and inviting her back into the generator room. She hesitated a little. Something was not right. Slowly, she tip-toed down the hall towards the door at the far end. Each and every hoof step causing the floor boards beneath to creak and groan. As she neared the door to the generator room, she paused. She strained her ears, listening to the sounds of the night. Her left ear flicked. There it was again. A sniffing sound. Her eyes narrowed as she carefully put down the lantern, lowered the light intensity to a dull flicker, before pushing it behind her. She did not want the light to attract whatever was making that noise. Once finished, she stared ahead of her at the open door. All she could see was the tops of the stairs. The sounds came again, much more audible than before, followed by the clatter of cans being knocked over.

Then, like distant thunder, a low rumbling growl echoed up from the room below. Fluttershy's bottom jaw twitched with trepidation. Something metallic crashed onto the floor, ringing loudly throughout the building. The renewed growling reverberated through the narrow corridor, almost causing it to vibrate. Fluttershy took an uneasy step backwards, almost kicking over the lantern. Through the door, she could not make out anything as all light in the room was gone, leaving no shadows to cast. All she could make out were the various outlines of the catwalk, which shook to the sounds of something stomping, intertwined with heavy claws raking on the cement floor. Something large.

The sounds grew closer as the shaking grew more intense. They paused at the bottom of the stairs, plunging the entire night into an eerie calm. Fluttershy held her breath, and her wings started twitching nervously. She tried to sink her head back into her mane and she felt a bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face to land with a loud plop on the floor. It might have well been a cannon shot.

An intense sniffing resounded from the generator room. There was a heavy foot fall, followed by another, and another. Ahead through the door, Fluttershy could see the catwalk beyond, trembling. Another heavy step. Another. The railings were jumping wildly from something. Something heavy was climbing up the steps. Towards her.

A shrill scream shattered the night air, and it took only a few seconds to realize that it was her own. She jumped into the air, wings snapping out, and she flew down the rest of the corridor towards the open door. Reaching it, she did not wait a second longer. Grabbing the door, she slammed it shut with an almighty bang and reached down to secure the lock. Only there was none. It needed a key. Terror froze her entire body, causing her wings to lock up and she fell back to the floor with a thud. The sounds were at the top of the stairs now.

Looking up at the wooden door before her, Fluttershy did the only thing she could think of. She threw her weight against the door and dug her hind legs into the floor boards, determined to hold her ground. Then she listened.

The air was silent. The noises had ceased. Carefully, she placed an ear to the door. Something scraped on the opposite side and she jerked her head back. There was a low insidious growl, before something slammed against the door, hard. The whole frame buckled from the impact and Fluttershy screamed again, pressing her back up against the door even harder. Praying that it would hold. Again the door was struck, jarring the whole frame, bending it under the pressure. She clenched her teeth so hard she feared that they would break.

A frustrated growl slid through the cracks of the door before it was hit hard all of a sudden, breaking it right at the middle. Fluttershy was sent flying backwards from the impact, her scream echoed loudly up and down the corridor. She hit the side of the walls and bounced painfully off, before landing in a tangled heap on the floor. She winced in pain, as she opened her eyes to the sight of a bright white light. The lantern. She shut her eyes again as the light stung them, but quickly pushed it to the background, as she shakily rose to all four hooves and turned towards the now shattered door, ready to face her new tormentor.

There was only an empty door frame.

Fluttershy's face scrunched up in confusion. She blinked a few more times, but the same empty sight was still present before her. Fluttershy stood as still as she could on her trembling legs, listening; But there was only silence. Her muzzle wrinkled with confusion. What, in the name of Celestia, had just happened? She strained to see the generator room beyond the door frame, but all she could see from the light cast by the lantern was the walls the catwalk and a few shattered ceiling lamps.

She paused, her eyes floating back down to the lantern. Or rather, the dull, flickering light she reduced the flame to without having to turn it off completely. Her mind travelled back to when she'd been behind the generator, and she'd seen that obstruction in the shadows and it had vanished the instant she flashed the lantern on it only to return once she'd covered the light. Whatever that thing was, it could not exist in the light. Without taking her eyes of the doorway, she increased the brightness of the lantern, before reaching to grip the handle with her teeth.

Carefully, she took a step backwards. Another, then another. She was halfway down the corridor before it even registered. Quietly, she turned around and exited back into the bar room, closing the door to the corridor behind her. She muttered with frustration around the lantern handle upon finding no lock. Fluttershy quickly glanced over at the landscape painting which, thank Celestia, was still covered with its tarp. Another quick survey revealed no mysterious masked ponies in any other paintings. Still, she didn't stay in this room any longer. She moved the lantern so that it illuminated the swing doors, which led back to the cafe.

She still hadn't found anything useful in this building, and she did not want to spend another second in it. Those fillies haunted the other building. Could she risk running into them again? She cautiously walked over to the swing doors and angling the lantern, shining it through their round windows. The hallway on the other side was empty. She could see the windows lining both sides of the hallway, and the double swing doors at the other end, but that was all. Experimentally, she pushed open one of the doors and stuck her head into the hallway. Shining the lantern this way and that, revealed exactly what she'd seen from the window.

A loud, bellowing roar shattered the quite. Fluttershy spun around, facing the wall at the opposite end of the room. With horror and understanding, she understood that it had come from the door that led back to the generator room. What remained of the destroyed door was shattered as a loud, rhythmic thumping began to work its way down the corridor. She could see the walls shaking from the excessive pounding as something very large crashed and banged towards the still closed door that exited into the bar room. The very bar room she was inside.

Panic seized her mind as she watched with wide eyes, the tremors causing the handle to shake. Then, with a soft clock, the door swung open to bang against the wall behind it and start swinging on its hinges from the vibrations that were shaking the whole room. That thing was back, and it was coming for her. Instinct took over as she swung the lantern and aimed it straight at the open door. Just as before, the crashing and banging stopped. Fluttershy smiled around the handle in her mouth.

A sharp gust of wind flowed past her from behind ruffling her whole body, causing her to shiver from the chill air as it enveloped her whole body like a breeze straight of the icy north. Without warning, the light within the lantern suddenly flickered out, plunging the whole room into darkness.

Fluttershy's whole body stiffened with fear. How had that happened? The glass door was closed. She dropped the lantern, frantically opening the door and attempting to get the light back on.

The roar of triumph that followed rocked Fluttershy to her core. She turned her head towards the open door, as the lumbering sound lurched forwards, causing the whole door frame to shiver as her own body. Panic gripped her. She could not even move as she stood there, half crouched over the lantern, eyes locked on the ever shaking door frame as the growling and snarling grew louder.

The hallway behind it began to grow darker, as if it were being swallowed up by the nothingness in the sky above. A low, guttural sound emitted from just beyond the doorway that caused the whole room to vibrate, rattling the lantern, before heavy foot falls started forward. That seemed to wake her up from her frozen stupor. Not even uttering a sound, she spun and flung open wide the double doors, before pounding down the hallway towards the identical set situated at the opposite end.

Then she came to a sudden halt as she realized that she'd forgotten the lantern. However, all that was shelved in favour of another realization. The air was silent once again. There were no crashing sounds, no hideous roaring, no shaking walls. There was nothing. Standing halfway down the hallway, she listened. Rewarded with no other sounds save her rapid and frightened breathing. It was as if it never existed at all. Fluttershy stopped right there as her eyes went wide with the comprehension of that last thought.

Like a whisper, a faint tide of wind flowed up the hallway to ruffle the back of her mane. Behind her, she heard the swing door gently close shut and like a switch, the soft wind was no more. For the fleetest of moments, Fluttershy could not find the means with which to breath as she stood there in the middle of the dark corridor. Slowly, very slowly, her head turned. A shadow moved among shadows. In the dim light, Fluttershy could make out the silhouette of a small pony, a foal, now standing motionless before the door behind her.

“Welcome back,” echoed a fillies voice in the darkness.

“We have missed you,” it repeated.

Fluttershy spun back to face the door to the cafe. The other filly stood before it now. Fluttershy turned from one foal to the other, unsure of how to react.

“We were so hoping that you would come back,” the filly before the bar room door said happily.

“He always takes our new friends away,” the other said. Fluttershy turned from one to the other again. The filly before the cafe door was slowly trotting towards her. She turned to face the other one, who was likewise edging uncomfortably close.

“W-who is he?” Fluttershy squeaked, taking a step away from the nearest filly, trying to keep as far away from them as possible.

“He who has no name,” the filly by the barroom said.

“He has been here for a long time,” the other answered.

“A really long time.” They were much closer now, their little hooves creaking on the wooden floor.

“He was so kind. He let us play here, after our accident.”

“It was sad. Very sad,” they momentarily paused in their advance on Fluttershy. The one by the cafe door suddenly brightened. “But it's okay. He taught us new games.”

“Fun games,” the other was now only a few feet away. “We played with others,”

“But he would not let us finish our games.” Both fillies pouted. “He can be so mean some of the times.”

“You're the first friend we've had to play with in a long time.”

“A very long time.”

The entire hallway was getting darker now. The light from outside appeared to be dimming. Fluttershy could now only discern the outlines of the two fillies, who were now only centimetres away. Fluttershy's breathing was starting to gain more and more speed. Sweat was starting to mat the fur upon her brow as her whole body was now visibly shaking with fear. What could she do? She had no weapons, no defence. Inches away from her, they paused. She turned from one to the other in rapid succession, her paced breathing was now the only sound in the hallway.

Their eyes became luminescent, which in turn highlighted their wicked, stretched smiles full of decaying teeth. Fluttershy was frozen in terror on the spot, caught in mid breath and unable to move, her eyes locked on the horrifying image before her. The things ghastly grin grew wider still.

“You look unhappy,” it said, the voice warped like before.

“You know what would make you happy?” The other one's broken voice appeared right behind her left ear, tickling the fur around its base. “A nice, big, smile.”

Something kicked Fluttershy from behind, hard. She screamed as she sailed through the air, slamming into the set of swing doors to bounced and rolled to a stop against the wall of the cafe. She groaned, shakily raising herself to all four hooves.

Her attention was drawn to the swing doors as both of them were thrown open. The hideous laughter of the twins ricocheted all around the room, at such volumes that caused Fluttershy to cover her ears. However, the twins themselves were nowhere to be seen. Their voices appeared to be coming from every direction simultaneously, mocking her with their baleful cackling. After a foolish few hesitant seconds, she bolted for the stairs.

Something grabbed her hind legs, pulling them out from under her. Fluttershy fell to the ground, banging her jaw painfully. She wasn't given any time to recover. An invisible force grabbed her front legs, pulling them out, stretching her as another pulled from behind. Then, she was lifted into the air and flung once more across the room. She hit the counter top, bounced and rolled, her wings painfully taking the brunt of the throw as she hit something wooden and stopped.

Fluttershy's groan of pain resonated all around, as she opened her eyes to look up at the ceiling. Her whole body stiffened as she slowly rotated her gaze around the room. She was back in the kitchen, laying on top of the wooden kitchen bench. Immediately her eyes locked on the kitchen sink, but no spiders were visible.

Something grabbed her front legs again, and stretched her body flat along the bench while her legs were simultaneously yanked in the opposite direction. She was now pinned down upon the bench, pinned as a moth on a collection board. The insidious giggling filled the room.

“You need to smile.” Fluttershy spun her head to her legs, were one of the grinning fillies stood, pinning them with her front hooves. She tried to yank her legs free, but the filly held them in place with supernatural strength.

“Like all good friends,” Fluttershy turned to look above her, where the other filly stood, pinning her front legs while clutching a large kitchen knife between its rancid teeth. “We will help you.” The filly manoeuvred the knife around in its jaws, and with a wicked grin, lowered it towards her whimpering face.

Fluttershy could only stare up in bewildered horror as the knife drew closer. Slowly, the tip touched her lips, forcing them apart. The metal had a dull and old taste to it, forcing her to widen her lips so that she would not have to feel it. The edge of the knife gently slide along her mouth towards the left side. The blade paused, as above her, the grinning filly leered down at her with morbid anticipation. She stared back, unable to utter a single sound as fear choked off her vocal cords.

Then, her eyes widened with comprehension at what she was doing, and a slight glimmer of hope began to flicker deep within. Stare. Clearing her thoughts, Fluttershy concentrated as hard as she could, and stared directly into the eyes of the filly above her. The nightmarish eyes glared back at her, not even wavering. Was it working? The parageusia of the knife was starting to become overwhelming.

“Are you being naughty?” It took a few frantic seconds to realize that was the other filly speaking to her. Fluttershy did not dare take her eyes of the one above her. It just grinned sadistically back at her, not budging an inch. Carefully, she moved her muzzle so that the knife was no longer pressed up against the sides of her lips. Still the filly atop her did nothing.

Flutterhsy cried out as a sharp, stabbing pain gripped her right hind leg. She almost let her gaze drop, but her fear of what could happen if she did, kept it glued on her target. Summoning all her strength, she yanked her front legs out from the grasp of the filly above her, disturbing her petrified form.

The knife dropped from its mouth and plummeted straight down at Fluttershy's forehead.

With a sharp scream, Fluttershy rolled her head to the left, just as the knife sliced through some of her mane to land with an echoing thunk right next to her ear. The shock of nearly being skewered by the knife was immediately overridden by the throbbing pain on her right hind leg. Turning to look down, she saw that the other filly had bitten her leg. Its sickening teeth, piercing her flesh and drawing blood.

“Nasty pony,” the filly said around a mouthful of her leg. “You need to be punished.” Fluttershy screamed as pain spread up her leg like an electric shock and yanked hard. This did not pull her leg free, but it did jerk the fillies head to the side. She tried the other way with the same result. The filly held on with determination as she pulled her leg backwards, dragging her onto the table with her.
“Naughty,” the filly above her whispered in a low voice. Fluttershy turned, just in time to see the knife wrenched from its position on the kitchen table. She watched as it was raised above her head, the appalling smile positioned it once more above her head. Then it stabbed downwards. Fluttershy screamed as she jerked her head to the other side, just as the knife stabbed down onto the table, embedding its self in the thick wood.

She cried out again in pain as her right leg reminded her of the other problem. The filly above her gave a frisky sigh and pulled the knife out once more. Fluttershy turned her gaze upwards to stare into its eyes, only to pause as she saw they were closed. The knife plunged down again, and she was barely able to dodge it this time, as the blade nicked the side of her left ear. She winced at the stinging pain that ebbed from the injury.

She pulled hard on her leg as she heard the knife retracted for a third time. She could not keep this up. That filly was going to get lucky. She cast her gaze down to her leg, now numb with pain from the constant biting. She yanked her leg to the right, hard. The filly was not dislodged. It held on with almost god-like strength. She saw that her leg was perilously close to the edge. If she could move her leg a little to the side, she could throw the filly off the table. However, it was not to be, as the little monster held her leg in place. Fluttershy turned her gaze back to the one above her, now positioning the knife above her head. There was no way she'd be able to dodge it this time.

She snapped back to the filly on her leg. She was drooling with anticipation for the fatal strike that would come. Fluttershy's widened as she realized that this fillies eyes were open. She had to be quick. She stared directly into her eyes, and without even waiting she yanked her leg hard. The filly tumbled over the side. However, its mouth was still gripping Fluttershy's leg, so as it went over, it pulled her with it.

The knife came down, once more striking wood and slicing through her mane as Fluttershy was dragged over the side of the table to land in a tangled heap on the floor. Her whole body ached. Her wings were sore. Her leg throbbed. She pulled the offended leg up to feel the wound. Tiny little red holes pot-marked her leg, matting the fur. Thankfully, it wasn't bleeding uncontrollably.

Then her eyes widened as she realized that the filly had let go. She then darted her gaze around, before settling on the table side directly above her. The grinning filly with the knife glared down at her. Another sound caused her to divert her gaze towards the floor in front of her. The filly who had bitten her leg was grinning maniacally at her, as it began trotting forwards.

She looked up at the filly with the knife. For the moment, that one was her priority as it was armed. It was now climbing over the table edge towards her. Fluttershy squeaked loudly as she skittered backwards, just as the filly leapt from the table to land on the floor. She angled the knife around so that it was sideways in her mouth. Fluttershy edged backwards as they crept forwards, her injured leg causing her to limp slightly.

“You've been a bad pony,” the nearest one said around the knife in its mouth.

“You must be punished,” the other finished, leering over its twins shoulders. “Let's take away those nasty eyes of yours.” Their hideous giggling vibrated all around the room, causing a few lose items to rattle.

Fluttershy continued backing away. Her injured leg struck something with a metallic feel, and she turned as the iron poker clattered down behind her. She gasped as she realized that she'd taken her gaze of the two fillies. She spun back just in time to see them charging towards her, eyes closed. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat. She couldn't use The Stare on them. The nearest one readied the knife as its position was switched to point straight out towards her, as a lance.

The poker was in Fluttershy's peripheral vision. She lunged for it, grabbing it with her jaws, and swinging her head up, using it to block the downward thrusting of the knife. The utensil bounced off the iron poker with a shower of sparks and an audible clang that rang throughout the room. Fluttershy rolled back up onto all four hooves and stood ready, holding the poker in her mouth as her body took a defensive stance.

Her brow furrowed. The twins were backing away from her, furious scowls now adorning their twisted features. Fluttershy's brow knotted in confusion as she tilted her head slightly.

“...Nasty...” the weapon-less filly hissed.

Fluttershy's gaze lowered to the iron poker clenched in her mouth. She looked back up at the fillies who were keeping their distance from her. It was as if they were afraid of her. No. Her gaze returned to the poker. They were afraid of the iron poker. Iron?
Her eyes went wide with immediate recognition. For the fleetest of moments, a memory wafted through her now clear mind. A memory of her trip in Manehattan, and the mare from the Fillydelphia Iron Works. The useless jargon she'd talked to Fluttershy about returned with a vengeance, particularly the uses of iron; Both scientific and mystical. Her words replayed themselves over in her head.

“Did you know that Iron also repels ghosts? Not just any iron, deary. It has to be Cold Iron. Iron that is forged over a cold anvil can be used to ward off ghosts, witches, and other supernatural creatures.”

She eyed the iron poker in her mouth. Had this been forged over a cold anvil? It must have as the twins would not come anywhere near her. Experimentally, she took a step forward. The twins took a step backwards, emitting a deep menacing growl.

“I don't wish to hurt you,” Fluttershy said around the poker in her mouth, “But leave me alone!” She lowered her voice slightly as she added, “Please.”

The two fillies abruptly let lose a bellowing roar that shook the room, causing Fluttershy to take a frightful step backwards. She inadvertently close her eyes, but quickly opened them, only to be greeted by an empty kitchen; The knife abandoned on the floor. Outside the kitchen, she could hear the swing doors, leading back to the bar room, flapping.

“Nasty pony!” she heard. “He will make you scream!” Silence once more filled the air.

Fluttershy blinked a few times, before looking around the room. She eyes the iron poker in her mouth, and smiled around its handle. She had some form of defense. Ghosts do not like iron. Or rather, cold iron. The shutters were still open, and it was no trouble climbing out and back into the cafe. She briefly eyed the swing doors. She would like to go back and get that lantern, however, the matches needed to light it were back in the generator room. And there was no way she was going back in there without a light.

Besides, she could not exactly hold a lantern and a poker at the same time. It came down to having some light, or defense. She sadly shook her head. The lantern was a lost cause. Not wanting to go back into the bar room, she headed down the stairs and back into the waiting room of the station. She passed through the doors into the staff room, pausing to stare at the ominous message on the wall.

Realizing it was the wrong bathroom, she eyed the wash-room. What was in there? Something useful? More matches? More ghosts? She readied her poker, as she trotted over to the door, and pushed. There was nothing in here. Just a long dead light bulb, a stained mirror and basin sink with an inkwell and a quilled pen perched on its side. Fluttershy frowned at that. She was about to question why this would be here when she spied the note; Folded up in the sink. Carefully, she picked it up and unfolded it. It was a hoof written note that some pony had rushed. Angling it so that she could get some comprehension, she started to read.

“I write this letter as my last confession. To leave behind some form of an explanation as to the actions that I undertake this night. Ever since this wretched train station was built, too many inexplicable events have been taking place. At first, I blamed that tragedy that occurred when the pit toilets were being dug out. No pony knew there were caverns so close to the surface, not even the surveyor. His records clearly showed that. Then the rumours began flying, and when ponies started disappearing on the night shift, I naturally assumed that they were quitting out of fear. I know better now. I've been in the bathroom. Sprocket Wheel was right all along. A curse is on this building, and now it's after me. There is no way to inform the Princess of this nightmare, and I cannot wait it out till morning. Even as I write this, I can hear its minions prowling the halls, searching for me. It's only a matter of time. I have made up my mind. I must burn this unholy structure to the ground, leaving no trace of its horrid existence. Farewell. Ratchet Gear.”

Fluttershy refolded the note and put it back in the sink. She looked around the tiny wash-room, gave a sad sigh, and exited back into the office. A quick search turned up no extra matches. She exited the building and found herself once more on the platform as she slowly walked over to the tunnel. Looking down its dark length, she spied the bathroom door, still ajar with the flickering light, blinking from within. She glared at it, before biting down hard on the handle of the poker.

“All right,” she muttered. “Now I am ready.”

Slowly, she put one hoof forward, then the other. Her hoof steps echoed loudly, rebounding off the walls as she carefully made her way down the darkened tunnel towards the open bathroom door and its ominous flickering light. Reaching the door, she peered inside.

The light-bulb that she'd believed dead was giving off a static flicker of light. The frayed cord that connected it to the ceiling spat loudly, throwing a small shower of sparks. Fluttershy eyed the open door. Doors did have a habit of closing by themselves around here. She'd need to find something with which to prop it open, should it decide to close with her still inside.

She reminisced about her breaking and entering attempts before, her mind flashing over the pile of broken bricks she'd found behind the building that she'd attempted to use to get inside. She trotted around the back and yes, they were still there, shoved up against the building. Searching among the piles, she found three that were still stuck together by mortar. Perfect.

Grabbing it with both front hooves, Fluttershy started dragging it back around. After much grunting and sweating, Fluttershy managed to drag the bricks all the way to the bathroom door. Wiping a hoof across her forehead, she pushed it until the door was fully back against the side of the building. No way was this door going to close on her mysteriously.

Retrieving the iron poker from her wing, Fluttershy walked into the bathroom with renewed confidence. She bit down harder on the handle, doing her best to ignore the cold sensations as she set one hoof, then another inside. Finally, she was standing fully within the bathroom.

Above her, the flickering light bulb cast dancing shadows across the bathroom walls, lighting up the whole room with the occasional spark from the frayed cord. She took a deep breath and walked further inside, mindful of the sagging floor. Her hoof steps tapped loudly on the tiles as she walked, intermixed with the constant, drip, drip, dripping of water somewhere within the impenetrable dark recesses of the bathroom. Fluttershy's legs quivered involuntarily with each step. She could fell the darkness of what ever lay within this cursed place. It was unnerving, unsettling and frightening. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, as her throat threatened to tighten up and choke of her air supply.

She reached the area before the trough and the stalls and she stopped. Slowly she looked over her shoulder. Behind her, the exit still hung open. Quelling her deep agitation, she turned back to the room before her. At the far end of the bathroom, the plaster wall was highlighted every time the light flickered on, revealing a rotten, crumbling hole that exposed wooden support beams and rotten insulation. She turned to look at the long rectangular mirror. Her own scared portrait blinked back at her. She turned to look the stalls beside her. Every door was closed.

Slowly, she walked over to the first door. The consternation within was welling up and threatening to boil over. Still, she did not turn or flee towards the exit, instead reaching out a hoof to place it on the door. Clearing her throat as softly as she could managed, and holding the iron poker up before her, she pushed on the door. It swung open to bang softly against the side of the stall. Nothing greeted her. Well, not entirely nothing. There was an empty rack for the paper, and a pit toilet. Her gaze zeroed in on the open lid and the darkness within. She could feel her teeth clenching down hard on the poker's handle. The foreboding feelings within the recesses of her terrified mind were magnifying themselves to unprecedented levels. Ever so cautiously, she tip-toed over to the rim of the toilet. As she moved forwards, it appeared to her ears that the sounds of her hoof steps with increasing in volume. She did not want to look down into its depths. For two full minutes, she stood there, the front end of the poker was now visibly shaking.

She told herself that if she ever wanted this night to end, she needed to look down into the toilet. She reminded herself that the poker would protect her. It had protected her from those two fillies, so there's no reason it should stop now. One hoof moved forward, followed by the other. Now she had reached the edge of the toilet. Gripping the poker with trembling jaws, she peaked down into its bottomless depths. Nothing but darkness. This gave her the courage to lower her head even further down into the toilet. The cold, evil feeling was still present, but nothing leapt out at her or emitted unsettling sounds from below. She gave a quick sniff and was rewarded with nothing but stale air. No rank smell of raw sewage or other grotesque smells. She wasn't sure how long her head hung there like that, but the chills she was feeling were overridden as she started to feel a twinge in the back of her neck from holding that position for the lenght of time that she did.

She rose back up to her full height and turned around. The stall door was still hanging wide open. She reversed out of the stall and walked over to the second one. Again, holding the iron poker up before her, she pushed open the door. The same empty sight as before. She walked over to the toilet and peered into its depths. Still nothing. She didn't bother looking for long and she left for the third door. She wasn't as hesitant as she had been with the last two, pretty much opening the door straight away. The door started to swing back but she quickly shot out a hoof and held it open. An empty stall greeted her gaze. She did not bother peering into the toilet and instead let go of the door and moved down to the Fourth stall. She anxiously put her hoof to the door, and taking a deep breath around the handle of the poker, pushed it open. The fourth rewarded her with the same empty sight. She left the stall and moved towards the fifth. This was the last one. Readying the poker once again, she reached out a hoof and shoved open the door, aiming it directly in front of her. The door banged against the side of the stall and swung back towards her, much like the third stall door had done. She caught it and pushed it back open. Empty. A slight crest of disappointment rose within her body, only to be submerged under a wave of relief. It had been exactly identical as the other four.

Still nothing. She walked inside and peered down into the toilet. Only the darkness stared back at her. She sniffed more thoroughly this time. Only stale air flowed through her nose. No smell of sewage, no smell of rotting dead bodies, and no sounds of any malicious monsters from below.

She backed out from the stall and looked over at the crumbling wall. It proved to be about as interesting as the stalls. The plaster had rotted away to reveal the wooden skeletal beams behind along with some rotten insulation that appeared to be the only thing imitating any sort of rank smell within the entire room. Slowly, she walked down remainder of bathroom hall towards the hole, the poker protectively guarding her. Reaching the hole, she attempted to peer into the space between the wall but the limited light refused to show anything of interest. Eventually, the foul smell of the insulation forced her to withdraw.

Still cautious, she turned around and walked back towards the exit, the echos of her hoof steps being the most prepredominate sounds in the room. She stopped halfway down the hall and looked at the door. It was reassuringly still open. She strained her ears to listen for the sounds of telltale little hoof steps. Only the dripping of the water from some unseen leaking pipe and the static sparking of the frayed lightbulb cord were the only sounds she heard. As she turned back to the stalls, she took one more look inside those that she could still see from where she stood. Empty. Every one of them was still and silent, their doors now hanging open. The third had swung back and closed. She carefully trod towards it. Putting a wary hoof to the door, she pushed it open. Nothing. She stood there and watched as it gently struck the side of the stall before closing by its self all over again. It had done that the last time she'd opened it. There must have been something wrong with the hinges. She backed away from the stall and turned to the trough, looking into its rusty basin. Nothing interesting here either. She cast a wary eye at the drain and the sink trap. It was rusted on tight. No way was that coming off. Still, she cautiously backed away, keeping a suspicious gaze upon it all the same. She looked up at the blotched and stained mirror. Her own confused reflection returned the stare, the iron poker hanging loosely in her mouth.

Her ears twitched as they picked up on something different. She tilted her head slightly as she contemplated what it was. Her eyes grew very large with sudden realisation. The water was no longer dripping. The constant dripping of water had been a steady background noise, but now had ceased its continuous rhythmic drops.

Fluttershy's wings folded up even tighter against her body as if to comfort her steadily growing fears. Perspiration broke upon her brow as her head shrunk inside her mane. She could feel her limbs trembling, their vibrations growing with every passing second. Her eyes began to dart nervously around the room. Was it her imagination or was the surrounding darkness actually creeping closer. The constant flickering of the overhead light bulb appeared to be dimming in response. She took a hesitant step away from the mirror and started a backwards course for the still open door as she looked around in all directions. The crumbling wall, the empty stalls, the sagging floor. The mirror.

For the first time in her life, Fluttershy understood what if felt like to have one's heart skip a beat. As her eyes fell upon the mirror, a new sound pierced the night air. The sound of the third stall door slowly creaking open. Fluttershy was unable to tear her terrified gaze away from the mirror as in its reflection, she bore witness to the said door slowly opening all the way, until it fully exposed the stall inside to her eyes. The pit toilet was still there, but from within the black hole, darkness began to creep forth, slowly reaching out like a growing spiders web, spreading to encompass the whole stall.

Two, luminescent blood red eyes situated within an inky black skinny and narrowed shaped head, that was angular and pointed at its ends, gradually emerged from the surface of the darkness, followed closely by a ghastly set of pearly white teeth, inside a narrow, hanging muzzle which stretched unbelievably long. Tall, pointed triangular ears flicked with morbid anticipation, as a long, thin neck stretched like a small giraffe, allowing the head to rise further into the air. The darkness surrounding the creature writhed and twisted, revealing that it was not shadow, but a multitude of little bipedal rat-like creatures with glowing white eyes and razor sharp teeth. Some were deformed, with no bottom jaws, or their mouths in the centre of the body, or where just nothing more than two large eyes atop a wriggling stalk. Their tiny arms waved about with a fluid motion, like tentacles as they all scrambled and tumbled over one another in a desperate attempt to fill the whole stall.

Fluttershy turned her whole body around to face the monstrosity within, the iron poker lancing out definitely before her. The stall was empty. She nearly dropped the poker in horror. She spun her head back to the mirror.

The horrid apparition blinked back at her, now grinning wickedly. She turned back to the stall. Still empty. She looked back at the mirror. It was closer now. Her entire body froze with fear. It had half climbed out of the toilet revealing inky black skin, wrapped around a slightly skinny, skeletal type body that was angular and pointed on the edges, like armour. Fluttershy spun back to the stall. Still nothing. She did not linger too long as she snapped her gaze back to the mirror.

The creature was now at the stall entrance, mocking her with its leering smile. The hundreds of rat demons were jumping at the bit, snarling and gnashing their tiny teeth at her, but kept at bay by some unseen force. Slowly, with careful and deliberate steps, she backed away towards the exit. She kept her eyes glued to the mirror and the twisted figure within. She made sure to angle the iron poker, keeping its pointed end aimed directly at the creature. Her confidence was starting to ebb and now she wasn't too sure if cold iron would do anything against something like that. But she had it, and it was her only means of defence.

A sound like a gun shot exploded behind her, making Fluttershy jump with fright, again almost losing her grip on the poker. Her gaze swivelled around behind her and her eyes widened with shock. The exit door was closed. The bricks! What happened to the bricks? Did something move them?

The breath froze in her lungs and she spun back to face the mirror.

The creature was peering around the side of the stall. Long spindly claw like fingers gripped the sides of the stall as its head leaned out, tilted horizontally as it continued to mock her with its malevolent smile. Behind it, the flowing wave of scurrying darkness was spilling out onto the tiled bathroom floor, scrambling, trying to break free from invisible leashes.

The light blinked above her, casting flickering shadows all around the room in a kaleidoscope of warped patterns as Fluttershy continued to back away. Every time the light went out, even for a split second, the creature eased its self free from the stall towards her. She had to get that door open. Carefully, ever so carefully, one hoof step at a time she backed away, keeping her eyes locked on the mirror and the poker held high.

The light bulb blinked again, causing the frayed cord to spark, showering Fluttershy below. She gave a muffled squeal around the poker, almost dropping it, but fear held her jaw shut. The bulb stuttered in pseudo morse code and went out.

Fluttershy's whole body stiffened as the entire room was plunged into darkness. The mirror. She could not see the mirror any more. She screamed around the iron poker and violently swung it in every possible direction as she skittered backwards. Left, right, up, down. She swung it hard, as she back peddled as fast as she could towards the closed exit door.

Her left rear hoof came down on the floor and went straight through it with a sickening crunch. She gasped in shock and this time, the poker fell from her mouth. She screamed again, as her leg continued its downward momentum, taking her rear with it. Within a split second, horrid realisation flooded her mind as she understood that she'd stepped on the sagging section of the tiled floor. Her wings. Her wings shot out to try and lift her off the ground but too late, as her front half followed close behind. Flapping her wings vigorously, they accidentally snagged against some unseen object with sharp edges and she screamed again, in pain this time, as broken and splintered wood tore through flesh and feathers. Her head and front legs were pulled through and Fluttershy fell sickeningly into darkness. She made one last attempt at flapping her wings but pain speared her nerves when she tried to move them and they just fluttered pathetically. She flailed her legs uselessly in the air, and the world went black, silent and slow.

Comments

[Lauralite]

She felt her mind melting away into a sea of calm as her mussels relaxed.

I do believe you meant muscles in this sentence, didn't take much away from the story, though you should still fix it.

their skin rooting away to reveal mussel

Two mistakes here, rooting should be rotting and again mussel should be muscle, still pretty good though.

The can cluttered to the floor

A simple mistake here, I think you were trying to type clattered.

What ever the answer, it would be prudent to linger her any longer.

Again something else simple, would should be wouldn't and her should be here.

Over all, great expansion marred only by a couple of simple mistakes that barely if at all detract from the story, I look forward to the next installment MrNelg, you have me on the edge of my seat... I'd also if possible like a timeline of when the Station was built up to when Ratchet Gear(Luna rest his soul) tried to burn it down and how long ago it was compared to when Fluttershy arrived.

[MrNelg]

4004023 The time frame I'm looking at is between 80 to 90 years ago. I'm basing the years on our own Time line, hence why the station has an early 20th century feel to it. For a definite answer, It was built around the time trains were first introduced/invented in Equestria.
PS Thanks for pointing out the errors.

[Lauralite]

4004157 thank you for the clarification, anyway, like I said I look forward to Act III... Oddly enough over the past few days I've had dreams about Shadow Station, creepy as all buck, and quite frankly you've added another layer to what will be in those dreams with the addition of Act II.... And fuck... The glasgow grins on the fillies still creeps me the hell out...

[bluemoon1996]

I shall read this and then go to bed

wish me luck

[Space Wizard Novablast]

Okay. Let me ask, did you base this off the newer silent hill games or silent hill 2-4?

Because if it's the newer ones, congratulations on making a fic that's loyal to the material.

If not, then congratulations on completely missing the point of silent hill and psychological horror experiences.

[MrNelg]

4007741 I based the story on the Silent Hill Otherworld. IE, an alternate hell-like dimension containing monsters and ghosts. Hence why I said, "Silent Hill Style." Also, could you please explain how I missed the point of the psychological horror experience? That is what I'm trying to do, and telling me that i missed the point, rather than telling me how, doesn't help me improve my writing at all.

[Space Wizard Novablast]

4007776

Yeah sorry bout that, I basically did what I hate myself.

What I find to a physiological experience is when the character undergoes serious mental instability (psychological) because they are faced with (in a horror story it's generally monsters) something about them that is either wrong or evil. But, the psychological part comes into it when it's symbolism, like, s y, a hooker would for example be faced with a bunch of burly monsters because those would symbolize how she had sinned if she was lost in a silent hill-like place. But personally why I think I was disappointed is a little different. It's really, and I do mean really hard to capture what made silent hill good in a written story. Because what made those games scary was not so much the story, but moreso the atmosphere. Which is excruciatingly hard to make work on paper.

I don't think going in with a mentality of "I'm gonna use something that worked for a completely different media in my new form of entertainment." Is good. Because it will look inferior to the product that was the original.

Horror in books is a lot more about build-up than it is atmosphere.

Take a look at something like Stephen king, because that's written horror that takes all the cakes and scares them shitless.

[MrNelg]

4009766

Yeah sorry bout that, I basically did what I hate myself.

Don't feel bad about it. The fact that you're apologising shows to me, you are a decent person. Every now and then, we slip; That can't be helped. It's how we pick ours selves up is what really counts.

What I find to a physiological experience is when the character undergoes serious mental instability (psychological) because they are faced with (in a horror story it's generally monsters) something about them that is either wrong or evil.

That makes sense. I'm a big fan of Japanese horror, and to quote Yahtzee, "Japanese approach to horror tends to be slow building, oppressive, emphasising the horror of being totally alone with something that hates you in a very passive-aggressive way." That's what I was trying to do with both Fluttershy and the audience.

Horror in books is a lot more about build-up than it is atmosphere.

That's what I tried to do. That's why I was really confused as to how it didn't work. Then again, it is your opinion and I've found you've explained it well. Therefore I will respect it. Again, thank you for being honest. It's exactly what I need.

[Space Wizard Novablast]

4009841

Someone responds well to criticism! Fucking finally!

Also, more Zero Punctuation fans ()

[Darksonickiller]

I love paranormal stuff so this was a very enjoyable read espically at 3 am. Have and up vote!

[Lauralite]

Since I have not much to do in the near future, I shall do a dramatic reading of this. Just thought I'd let you know MrNelg

[MrNelg]

4093129 Wow! Thank you, and by all means, go for it. Do send me the link so that I can publish it on the front page. Now I have more of an incentive to hurry up and finish the next chapter.

[Lauralite]

4093734 do not rush yourself, I'd say go at a medium pace... Oh Luna why did that song suddenly pop into my head when I said that -.- *calmly starts beating head against a rock to get song out of head*

[Mr Andrews Pupil]

This was good. No, this was GREAT!!!
I love a good ghosty fic.

I'm holding my breath in anticipation for the next chapter!!!

[Jack Kellar]

I officially qualify this as the scariest story on this site. That's some ridiculously good J-horror you have going here, pal...

[kotor511]

4007776
Very nice slow buildup Ghost Story. Pretty enjoyable to read, best when being all alone in your dark bedroom past midnight. It's good that you didn't overspan the gore factor, and rather went for the scare approach, strangely this whole stranded on a trainstation and the intake of the building really reminds me of Chihiro, although there wasn't nearly as much scaryness involved.
What I do find awkward though, is the fact that Fluttershy, the most cowardly pony in equestria, seems to take this all in relatively good stride. Sure she is scared as you describe her, but even Applejack would probably *pardon my language* shit more bricks in a situation like that than 'your' Fluttershy, considering the loneliness and helplesness in that situation. Although the part with her bladder bursting really made me cry out in sympathy for her.

The situation would be so terrifying to her that she could hardly move, always frozen in place shaking. Yes shaking, I mean we have the heartbeat, the sweat but it feels like there isn't enough mention of the increasing shakes. Just think about how she reacted on nightmare night alone. The black void sky she saw should have absolutely rendered her unable to move already, or at least she would have gone back into the train car, covering under a bank. She is a pegasus, they know the weather like no other, so a missing sky (no stars and no clouds) should be very, very disconcerting to her.
If I recall right, the building isn't even lit, at least the inner compartments, therefore being previously disconcerted by a missing nightsky, missing sounds of the night and a missing conductor... Yeah she wouldn't even have approached the building, rather stayed at the very decently lit train. She may have decided to search the building later though, but only after waiting in vain for 1-2 hours inside the train for the conducter to come back.

I don't say you didn't describe her reactions right, as you make her out to be more and more scared. But the intensity of her reactions, right from the start I might add, seems to be lacking a bit, aswell the duration of her being strongly affected by her fears, physically and mentally, meaning she isn't hesitant enough. I mean for example after her encounter with the spiders, she seems to recover fairly quickly from her shock, but shouldn't she linger on longer for what had happened? In utter stupor, fear and confusion? Or maybe she'd rather 'run' back to the train after that immediately.

My advice how to spice this up a bit, although it is already good as it is, would be:
1. Let her linger on longer inside the train, and make her wait for the conductor, try to include her thinking more thoroughly about the missing sky, and make her shake in her seat (or under it)
2. Raise the intensity of her fears a bit, involve more running out of the building from the start.
3. Make her more hesitant when approaching something, try to include the thought that she'd rather not want to do it.

The way you display the whole situation (reactions, thoughts etc) could very well be enough for Trixie, Rainbow Dash or Rarity. But this is Fluttershy, meaning a big hauntingly trainstation is a big no no for her. That in turn means it would take her some time to bring up the courage to even consider going into the building. In the end of course she has no choice but to risk 'peaking' in, but after an experience like the one with the spider, she'd have to be much more frightened.

Just my opinion, since long opinions and critic is what your story deserves. It is a very good read afterall.

Anyway you got yourself a like, a fav, and a new follower!

PS: For all who are reading this story, have some Dark Ambient music:

It made me turn around trice while reading chapter 1.

[Alcatraz]

4093900, You and me both wish he'd finish the third chapter so you can do your dramatic reading.
4093734, I'm at your disposal for when you have the next chapter ready to proofread.

[CodeG]

When is the next chapter coming out?

[MrNelg]

4722663 Sorry for the late update, but I am working on it. It's just that my life's been very busy lately, and It's left me very little time to write. Again, sorry.

[CodeG]

4726906 It's alright, take your time. I was just curious that's all.

[David downpour]

oh my god loved this cant wait for the third part

[DitzyDash]

Oh my gosh! This is an amazing story, great detail and I love the suspense! I can't wait for the next chapter!!

[David downpour]

[Alcatraz]

5065084

Expect it within a day or so. I'm currently half way through editing it as I type this.

[Sadora5459]

4009841 oh man is that creature a demon like pumpkinhead or something

[Godiswithus3]

*SHIVERS* Damn, those creatures sure have creepy descriptions. Still, Fluttershy is in real trouble. She lost her iron, her wings are wounded, and now she is trapped in the bathroom with whatever the f*ck that thing is. *deep breathes* Hang in ther Flutters.

[HylianTabby]

I'm listening to Thornquill's audio reading of this as I read it and I have to say, I am extremely impressed. The descriptions and story telling here are wonderfully done, making the abandoned train station and it's ghastly inhabitants easy to picture in the minds eye with just enough being left vague and open to interpretation adding to the horror of the story. The station itself feels more and more like a living being, a twisted monster like the ones inside it, reminding me in many ways of the earlier Silent Hill games, and if you are familiar with those earlier games you know just how much of a compliant that is.

[MukiNeko]

Jeez this was terrifying, but this is a well written horror story.