• Published 17th May 2015
  • 2,207 Views, 36 Comments

My Queen - Bootsy Slickmane



She comes to me at night, sometimes. I've never known why or how, but in time, I stopped questioning her. We have a silent union, and I didn't press for more. On one such lonely night, however, I get a bit bolder.

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She Comes

She's coming. Don't ask me how, but I can always tell. Sometimes it's a few minutes before she appears, sometimes a few hours, but I can always feel it. Feel her. It's a strange sensation, really. It's like an itch somewhere deep inside my mind. The first time I felt it, I had no idea what it meant. Nowadays, I know it all too well.

I should leave while I can. Throw the covers off and run from the house. Stay over with a friend, perhaps. Somepony who could watch over me and keep her away. I should flee from one who invades my home so.

But I don't want to.

I shift around, pulling myself into a sitting position on my bed. My head rests against the wall as I stare past my blanketed hind legs. I stare across the dim room, hoping to catch her coming in, even though I know that I can't. I've tried before, sitting and waiting for her to climb in through a window, or for my bedroom door to slowly creak open. I've never caught her entry before and I won't now, as is made clear by what always happens next.

A moment ago, I could clearly see my old desk, the door to my closet, and a painting of the white city of Canterlot hanging on the wall across the room. Now I can't see the painting anymore. Now my desk is gone, too. An impenetrable curtain of black has fallen between me and the opposite wall, just like it always does. Soon, I can barely see the outline of my own hoof in front of my face.

And then she's there.

My heart stops and my breath catches in my throat. Like every time before, she's just suddenly there, her acid green eyes staring at me from the abyss that my bedroom has become. Her eyes gently narrow, still locked on me. She's coming closer, now. I can hear her soft hoofsteps across my carpet, see her eyes gently bob up and down with her head as she moves.

I can only ever catch glimpses of her, in the darkened room. The weak light coming in through my curtains does little in the unnatural shadow. As she passes by the window, I can barely catch a hint of her dull blue mane above those vibrant eyes. There's a sheen on her coat, smooth and slick. Is it even a coat? I've never been sure, but it never feels like fur or hair. It feels more like warm glass, smooth and solid. I've never gotten a good look at it, though. Perhaps she likes it that way. Perhaps that's why she only comes at night.

All I can ever see clearly are those eyes. Those green, luminescent eyes with those slitted pupils that no pony should have. Despite how alien they are, I can't help but feel drawn to those eyes. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I stay when I should gallop from my bedroom in terror, leaping out the window and into the night. Even as they stare at me now, my heart pounding as though I'd just finished a dead sprint across town, I don't want to leave. Those eyes still scare me, though not like they did when they first appeared in my bedroom. When I look into them now, I don't want to look away, and I don't want them to ever leave.

The first time she came to me, I heard her before I saw her. I heard her ragged, labored breaths. I heard her hooves dragging and stumbling over the carpet. Then she was there beside me, glowing eyes of alluring horror boring into me from mere feet away. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to run, but my hooves wouldn't move. Her face was up against mine, and I was too terrified to speak. The invader loomed over me and brought her lips to mine. I could taste blood in her mouth, but with a biting, bitter edge, almost like acid.

When she left my side an hour later, I felt drained. Hollow, as though somepony had reached their hooves into my body and pulled out everything that made me a pony. The sensation persisted even after I awoke, though to a lesser degree. It persisted even as she came again the next night. And the next. Every night for two weeks, she would climb into bed with me, and each night, I felt a little less afraid. By the time she left on the fourteenth night, I found myself wishing she would stay. Her visits became more sparse after that, sometimes only once in a given month. Each time that familiar itch sprang to life in my mind, I felt excitement rather than fear. I grew to miss her when she was gone.

One might ask how I know she's a she, but I'm sure that she is. She isn't always silent, and what vocalizations she's made always sounded feminine, despite being barely more than hums, sighs, and moans. That's the most she's ever said. Even when I've managed to fight my own terror and speak to her, she's never answered me. The only response she made was to softly press a hoof to my lips, once. After a while, I stopped trying. I just accepted it. Accepted her.

She climbs atop the mattress, the old springs letting out a few muffled squeaks. The thick pad shifts as her hooves press into it, carrying her across the bed and over my reclining body. Those mesmerizing eyes are inches away from my own, half lidded. I can't make out more than her equine outline, but I can see the smile she bears within those eyes. I imagine it's not the smile of a friend hoofing you an ice cream cone. It feels like the smile of a newly-wed bride on the first night of her honeymoon. Or maybe it's the smile of a wolf right before she pounces on a rabbit. Either way, those eyes send a shudder through me and bring about a smile of my own.

Her scent washes over me, and her lips meet mine. My hooves find their way up to her neck, like they always seem to. The contrast is always so striking to me; her hard skin against my hooves and her soft lips on my flesh. She's feels like such a mish-mash, a contradiction. A combination of things that don't belong together. She feels so rough against me, with her jagged, untrimmed hooves, yet every touch she makes is the most gentle caress. My tongue finds its way into her mouth, brushing past the sharp, pointy teeth that line her jaws. A taste like bitter almonds runs over my tongue as it tangles with hers. A flavor I'd scorn if it didn't come from her.

Is she even real? Could a creature such as her even exist? She's never left anything behind. All I have of her are my memories. Could she really just be a dream? No dream has ever felt so real, though. No dream has ever made me feel so high and so low at the same time. If her visits are all mere dreams, I hope they never end. Please, Luna, don't ever let them end.

I've tried to find her, to find where she is when she isn't visiting me. I didn't think it would be hard. She's a unicorn, and that's rare enough here in Appleloosa, so one with a horn that feels so gnarled and serrated to my wandering hooves? It should be a piece of cake, yet I've never been able to find her. Wherever in Equestria she hides when she's away, it's nowhere near our little town. I've never told anypony about her. They'd surely think I'm insane. Besides, if she is real, I don't want to share her.

I can feel it, now. She's taking a part of me for her own, like she always does. My heart slows and a chill runs through my core. I can feel her taking my essence, pulling it out from between my lips and past her teeth. A cold sensation fills my chest and spreads through my limbs. No, not cold, empty. Hollowed out like a rotted old tree. What she once stole from me, I now give her willingly. She can have it. She can have it all. I'd give her my very soul if I could, if only to spend another few moments with her. She is all I want. She is my dark mistress.

She is my queen.

Oh, how I long to see her, to see the face that belongs to those lips, that body, those eyes that have enraptured me so. I know how she so loves the shadow, how she hides from me. Maybe she finds it thrilling, keeping her form shrouded from my sight. For so long, I've refrained from illuminating her, but I can withstand the temptation no longer. All at once, I've had enough. I have to see. I have to know.

My hoof removes itself from its place around her neck, sliding across the covers and up my nightstand. After a second, I find the switch and flick on the lamp. Light floods the room and banishes the darkness. She whips her head back and away, pulling her lips from mine. My eyes snap open, and at last I can see her.

I wish I couldn't.

I try to scream, but the monster just puts one of her malformed, hole-ridden hooves in my mouth. She leans her black, shiny face back down to mine and gives me a wide smile with that mouth full of white, bony needles, her translucent green spittle dripping onto my chest. It's not the smile of the newlywed, after all. It's the smile of the wolf.

Comments ( 35 )

Well, sometimes it's better not to know... And damn, way to make a comeback, man. You've channeled, like, a few masters of pony and non-pony horror in here and made one of my favourite Chrysalis stories...

Should have kept the light off.

I'm reminded of those old ghost stories, where humoring a spirit is the only way to stay out of harms way.

Interesting.:trixieshiftleft: This reminded me of Mapleshade from the Warrior Cat books. She was a phantom that would always visit Crookedjaw in his dreams.:ajsmug: Although it was for vengeance, not "Bad Romance," the concept was very similar to me. And I love it!:pinkiehappy:

5988570
Ignorance really can be bliss, at times. And damn, wow, thanks a ton, man. I probably drew inspiration from reading old books of short story anthologies back when I was younger, now that I think about it. It's good to be writing more again.

5988770
5988972
Thanks. This was actually inspired by a specific type of demonic figure that changelings bear some resemblance to: the succubus.

5988590
If only the narrator been content with what they had.

In the dark, all cats are grey.

Intriguing...

Listening to Hozier's Take Me To Church packed a bigger punch to me. Even without the music it's amazing by itself, congrats.

5989246 The Mara perhaps?

Damn. Liked and faved.

5990302 I've heard of the "Mara" "Moira" or whatever it's called.

In any case I think this is interesting yet... There is something missing. It's nice and all and here's a like... but favorite? I don't get it. I mean I get shit happens in the story but... I'm left hanging like a damn thriller with the bad ending and the cliffhanger.

I am sorry but you don't win the favorite because the way you ended your fic is kind of offputing..

5992195 Nightmare, Night Mare/Mara. There's where the word comes from. A demon who sits on the chest of sleeping folk, giving bad dreams and leaving them exhausted.
Pretty much like the one the author spoke about

5992195
5992253
I was actually completely unaware of the Mara, though that might've been clever. It was just the old, classic succubus.

Well, that's pretty much the point. It's meant to be unsettling and leave you wondering. The lack of a real ending goes with the overall vagueness of the story. What happens to the narrator? I'll leave that up to your imagination. Sorry if you wanted something more concrete, but that's the style of this one.

5992586 The thing is that's not exactly a story. It's more like a fairy tale that goes around from superstitious people. I makes me think of the shitty fanfics people write on facebook.

Dude no offense you probably wrote a masterpiece compared to them but most of the times I've learned that a story needs to have a start, a middle, and end. It was one of the basic rules ancient Greeks wrote their plays... And as a Greek guy I opt to do the same.

5995950
Well, it sorta is a fairy tale, in some ways. It was inspired by folklore surrounding succubi, as well as older horror stories in general. There's a ton of stuff that's merely implied throughout the story, including the narrator's ultimate fate. The simplest conclusion to draw from the sudden lack of narration is that they suddenly die or are otherwise rendered unable to continue narrating, with this conclusion further implied by the story being written in present tense, as though they are narrating each moment as it happens. The specifics of what happen to cause this are left up to the reader's mind, in line with Nothing is Scarier. Whether or not this is the case is up to reader discretion, as are many other specific details within the story (and whether or not the story is effective). It's just plain vague and/or subtle, through and through.

I makes me think of the shitty fanfics people write on facebook.

I don't think I've seen any of those, so I have no idea if this is similar in style.

most of the times I've learned that a story needs to have a start, a middle, and end.

A most traditional structure, indeed. I am not the most traditional writer.

5996698 To be honest the "lover in the dark" thing is something that happened with Eros and Psyche. Eros always kept himself hidden throughout their meetings so as not to know he was a god. If you kinda flip the atmosphere and make it evil like there are many similarities with this. Hmmm...

To be honest since I can very well choose my own ending here I could just flip the coin you gave me to my favor. *shrug*

I don't think I've seen any of those, so I have no idea if this is similar in style.

They are short, they have the sole intent of being spooky, and you should really avoid them they're just crap. It's just that the how short this was didn't quite compliment your intent very well.

A most traditional structure, indeed. I am not the most traditional writer.

... I can't say something to that without appearing like a jackass. Let me just say that the word count doesn't do you any good. Not enough room to actually say much that would have a good effect.
5988590 Shoulda, woulda, coulda. I'd still love her anyways.

5996745
Hmm. I am unfamiliar with that tale. Interesting, though.

The intent was a creepy, semi-ambiguous story about Queen Chrysalis as a phantom-esque lover in the night, from the perspective of her victim who has come to love her, only to realize with horror that they've been playing prey to a monster.

... I can't say something to that without appearing like a jackass.

I'll be more clear on my less-than-traditional stance. Lack of innovation leads to stagnation. I like new ideas, new styles. I like to experiment. Perhaps this one fell short.

Let me just say that the word count doesn't do you any good.

Do you have any specific suggestions regarding what additional things might be added to this without meandering further than it does? I mean, it already takes over 600 words for Chryssi to walk across a small room. The pace is very slow, as it is.

5997219

The intent was a creepy, semi-ambiguous story about Queen Chrysalis as a phantom-esque lover in the night, from the perspective of her victim who has come to love her, only to realize with horror that he's been playing prey to a monster.

Well without you actually saying that it's inspired by the succubus anyone could replace your Chrysalis with their headcanon. I just think that the versatility and the kind of exploration the fans have gone into with the changelings kinda hurts you. If this was done near their release then it would have more effect I think.

So leaving the story vague kinda hurt you and helped you. What perhaps you should have done is take a peek at how Tolkien made magic so alluring, mysterious, and scary.

You won't regret watching this. Anyway for what it's worth you did a good try. Maybe the fic could have been bigger, describing how the victim eagerly awaits her every night. How it escalates until he can't be with his wife or he forgets his crush. Dunno. Describe it like an obsession. Aaaanyway woulda shoulda coulda it's all up to you.

I'll be more clear on my less-than-traditional stance. Lack of innovation leads to stagnation. I like new ideas, new styles. I like to experiment. Perhaps this one fell short.

I like to try new stuff as well. Quite recently I considered writting the starting chapter of a fic through the perspective of a baby being born and what follows it.

Do you have any specific suggestions regarding what additional things might be added to this without meandering further than it does? I mean, it already takes over 600 words for Chryssi to walk across a small room. The pace is very slow, as it is.

I think I've proposed a few stuff above. Succubi often play with desire, obsession, lust... they prey on the flesh's needs which is what the devil uses to lure us away from the care of god. Remember the phrase "The mind is willing, but the body is weak..." or something like that? Yea... that.

Remember the devil/evil doesn't come to you as a scary two-horned creature. It comes as everything you ever desired. So Chrysalis could essentially be a pony at first, but then after seducing him she has to revert to her changeling form to feed. The guy senses something different, something that changes in his lover every night, and bam! He gets to know the truth. Or I dunno something like that? She comes only in the night?

Remember succubi are often associated with dominatrixes, and femdom. You could describe the feeling of helplessness, the overwhelming sensation of being in her allmighty tender care, the passion she inspires, how his body aches each time they meet, how he feels tired but strangely happy. Stuff like that.

If you like succubi tales then you're gonna love Katherine and Catherine. Seriously... real fun!

5998272

If this was done near their release then it would have more effect I think.

Possibly. But keep in mind you're talking to a guy whose most popular fic of all time was a Mare Do Well fixfic that came out almost two years after such fics were already a cliché. Timing isn't everything, but it does help.

What perhaps you should have done is take a peek at how Tolkien made magic so alluring, mysterious, and scary.

Uh, that video basically said to keep magic vague and poorly defined so it remains mysterious and interesting, which was exactly my goal with this story.

The narrator doesn't understand what's going on, so neither can the reader without some digging into the little details. The narrator doesn't realize that they've been conditioned by her. There's actually a greater story at work in the background of this fic, it's just that the narrator doesn't know it, so the don't state it in obvious ways. For example, there's a reason why she doesn't appear as a pony. There's a lot more going on than is immediately obvious at first glance, but laying it all out would utterly destroy any sense of mystery at work. Every detail and word choice was on purpose in this fic, albeit most of it is subtle. It's short because it's so concise, with little being said that doesn't add to the story. And this is only loosely inspired by succubi (and the similarities to changelings), but not by any religious explanations for it. In fact, it takes more from the best guess that succubus/incubus encounters were actually just people suffering sleep paralysis.

I can go into deeper depth about all this (I didn't just throw this fic together, after all), but I need to sleep, first. Though, if you didn't like the style of this, you may not like some of my other work. I do this a lot, leaving much implied and shrouding details. I often aim to tell a lot of story with a few words, and the audience simply has to pay close attention to catch it all. Anytime I flat-out tell the audience what's going on and don't even bother with subtlety, I feel like I'm condescending to them, like I assume they can't figure it out themselves and just shove it in their face. Some don't figure it out, but that's a matter of target audience. I like writing stories that make you think and wonder.

Then again, I'm sometimes too subtle, and only a few ever pick up on what's going on.

5998432

I can go into deeper depth about all this (I didn't just throw this fic together, after all), but I need to sleep, first. Though, if you didn't like the style of this, you may not like some of my other work. I do this a lot, leaving much implied and shrouding details. I often aim to tell a lot of story with a few words, and the audience simply has to pay close attention to catch it all. Anytime I flat-out tell the audience what's going on and don't even bother with subtlety, I feel like I'm condescending to them, like I assume they can't figure it out themselves and just shove it in their face. Some don't figure it out, but that's a matter of target audience. I like writing stories that make you think and wonder.

Then again, I'm sometimes too subtle, and only a few ever pick up on what's going on.

Well just be careful you don't want to tire your audience. So... I guess this is going to be continued somehow?

5998272

I just think that the versatility and the kind of exploration the fans have gone into with the changelings kinda hurts you.

Versatility is part of the point, though. Like a changeling, some of the details in this story can be different things, depending on the reader.

I like to try new stuff as well. Quite recently I considered writing the starting chapter of a fic through the perspective of a baby being born and what follows it.

Now there's something interesting. I could see it being written simply and becoming more complex as the character's mind grows, sorta like "Cal" by Isaac Asimov.

... I fear we may simply be at an impasse, here. It seems you would prefer that this story be something it isn't. It's short, ambiguous, and quick by design, with minimal extra details. The narrator doesn't have all the info, so readers have to fill in the gaps and pick details to get a bigger picture. It was meant to have an open ending and be open to interpretation. This was not an accident, this was the point. Not everyone likes stories like this. I don't know what else there is to say.

Also, I'm not sure how any of this expansion stuff relates to the original complaint of having an open ending. If the story was enough for you to get it in the first place, why add more? Why make it longer than it needs to be, unless you don't think the bulk of the tale was effective?

6000093

... I fear we may simply be at an impasse, here. It seems you would prefer that this story be something it isn't. It's short, ambiguous, and quick by design, with minimal extra details. The narrator doesn't have all the info, so readers have to fill in the gaps and pick details to get a bigger picture. It was meant to have an open ending and be open to interpretation. This was not an accident, this was the point. Not everyone likes stories like this. I don't know what else there is to say.
Also, I'm not sure how any of this expansion stuff relates to the original complaint of having an open ending. If the story was enough for you to get it in the first place, why add more? Why make it longer than it needs to be, unless you don't think the bulk of the tale was effective?

I just have to ask... you kinda hinted that you would continue this or link it to something else.

6000110

I just have to ask... you kinda hinted that you would continue this or link it to something else.

You mean this?

I can go into deeper depth about all this (I didn't just throw this fic together, after all), but I need to sleep, first.

I meant continue on about this story and it's inner workings, which I can do, but I would rather not lay it out here in the comments. Though, my editor did suggest that I write a followup from the perspective of Chrysalis, and tell the background story that's hinted at in this one. It would likely explain everything that's going on here, though, and that would probably result in "ohs" of either satisfied comprehension or disappointment at the mystery fading away. Regardless, I am considering a sequel that works on this concept more, but I really don't know if I'll do it. If I can come up with something that fits well alongside this, I just might. But very probably not.

I'll never say what happened to the narrator, though.

6000140 Whatever you want brah.

I like it! Have a like

He clearly cannot see beauty even when it's right in his face.

While I will admit it would be a shock to see her for the first time, I don't think it is very high on my horror scale.

Sequel pls. Tis two gud four anything else.

7782732

I don't feel this is supposed to be a horror type story. It seems to be the type to show a character's perspective on things and how he came to accept this creature over time.

Sometimes it seems better to not know what's going on in the world. Ignorance is bliss in this case.

7784742 But it IS more proof of why we must blow up all da cherngelerngs!

Especially now that they've turned from sorta cool bug monsters into Skittles-colored things that look like rejects from a Glow Worm series reboot.

:rainbowlaugh:

Ooh shit. Here's a follow. Just take it.

Oh my gosh that was amazing!

Full review here, but in brief: truly creepy in a way that few short horror fics manage. I at least half-wish the identity of you-know-who hadn't been known from the start, but the uncomfortable narration is a winner. Faved.

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