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The Arrival1,361 words
Trapped1,467 words
First Encounter 1,637 words
Paintings2,041 words
Into The Shadows1,554 words
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The Arrival

Trixie shuddered as she looked up at the enormous mansion. There was no doubt in her mind that it had once been beautiful. But that had been ages ago. Now it was a rotting shell of its former self, its walls weathered, its windows cracked. Bricks and other parts of the architecture had begun to fall off, and now haphazardly formed a ring of broken stones around the base of the building. Water-worn gargoyles perched on various points of the mansion, their features made even more hideous by their years of service. The front gate appeared as a cage containing the mansion, its rusted iron bars ensnared by countless vines of dead ivy. The yard was full of huge, thorny rose bushes that were once trimmed by the loving hooves of a long-dead gardener. Now they were feral, overgrown, without a single rose to be found on them.

The sight of the mansion struck fear into the unicorn. Not only because of its abhorrent appearance, but because she knew that at one time it was the most gorgeous house in all of Equestria. The thought of something so beautiful decaying into ugliness and obscurity frightened Trixie. Even the headstones in cemeteries, testimonies to the dead who rested beneath them, were slowly worn away by rain and weather.

Trixie took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air as magicked a key out of her saddle bag. Its blotched iron surface matched the rusted padlock that bound the front gates together. The unicorn inserted it into the keyhole, and turned. There was a sharp click as the lock snapped open. Trixie took a frightened step back as a piercing shriek suddenly echoed out through the air. It was less than a second before she realized that the noise had been produced the hinges of the gate, which had swung open the moment she unlocked it.

The mare could now see the mansion without her view being obscured by ancient bars of metal. It managed to look even more ominous than it had before. The light of the setting sun cast eerie shadows about the building and the surrounding oak trees. It was at this moment that Trixie considered turning to leave. But she couldn’t. Whether it was a matter of pride or the need of money, Trixie needed to continue. She looked straight ahead and tried to muster up the overbearing self-confidence she had during her shows. That’s all a séance was, really. Just a dramatic show for superstitious ponies.

It seemed an eternity had passed before the unicorn finally took a step onto the property. Some small part of her thought that something dreadful would happen the moment she touched a hoof to the grounds. When something terrifying failed to happen to her, Trixie felt her spirits lift slightly. She took another step, and then another. Before long she was walking down the dirt path towards the mansion’s doors. But she kept her distance from the overgrown hedges. That same irrational part of her put it in her head that there could be something within the thorny bushes waiting to reach out and grab her if she got too close.

Eventually she came to the front steps. Trixie quickly made her ascent up the cracked, moss-ridden stairs and found herself looking up at two of snarling faces against a backdrop of palled wood. A pair of iron doorknockers cast in the shape of lions held their mouths open to greet her with sharpened fangs. The unicorn stood still, waiting for herself to knock on the door. At last she finally magicked the knocker, which sounded off with several dull thuds against the damp, warped wood. Trixie stared at the door and listened for hoof-steps on the other side. Once again, time slowed to a crawl before she heard somepony come to answer her knock. Trixie was actually surprised that anypony answered at all, seeing as the mansion no longer appeared to be inhabitable. The tarnished brass handles suddenly turned with a sharp force.

Trixie stared ahead as the double doors opened with an ominous creak, revealing the dark depths of the manor. From where she stood the unicorn could see that time had not been kind to the ancient mansion. The walls, once vividly painted, were now stained and blotched with mold. Curtains and furniture were moth-eaten, and crisp leaves were scattered about the rotting carpets and cracked tile floors. Trixie could see a staircase that led to the upper levels of the building supported by dusty marble columns.

The magician was both fascinated and fearful of the scene before her. In her mind’s eye she reconstructed how it must have been in its full glory. A picturesque sitting room came to life before the unicorn, with lavishly patterned carpets and luxurious furniture upholstered with the softest of materials, their lacquered wooden trim carved with expertise that was no longer found in the modern world. The pile of cracked porcelain in the corner became a magnificent vase from a foreign country, and the ruined piano was restored to a shining ebon grace. Seated within the wingback chairs and davenports would be distinguished ponies in elaborate garb, talking well into the autumn afternoons.

But all of that was gone now. All that remained was a corrupted visage of what had been. It wasn’t even a memory anymore. The house had been decaying for so long that Trixie reasoned that any who saw it in the height of its glory would have passed on by now. It was forgotten for what it once was. To the townsfolk it was a place of fear; a hulking eyesore ridden with an eerie presence. Yet as with all things that cause unrest it was also a point of interest. That was why Trixie had been summoned. Whoever owned the manor wanted to communicate with its former owner, who was said to haunt the ruined halls of his home.

“…H-hello?” Trixie’s voice echoed in the abandoned structure. She slowly inched her head into the doorway. An eclectic odor crept into her nostrils; a musty, mildewed sort of smell composed of decomposing fabric and damp wood. The unicorn waited for a reply to come from the quiet confines of the manor. She partially hoped that she would receive none. The more she saw of the wretched place, the more Trixie wanted to leave. It was one of the few things that not even her extreme self-confidence could overcome. She felt fear creeping into her mind, and she did not like it.

Trixie’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the gentle chimes of a music box emanate from the middle of the room. Startled, she took a step back. The magician knew that there was no logical way that she could have been answered by a lifeless machine. Though frightened, the unicorn’s tensed muscles began to relax as the quiet melody of the waltz made its way past her ears. It reminded Trixie of a music box she’d owned as a foal, one that would play a lullaby while she was safe in her bed.

The magician managed to coax herself to take a step inside. A floorboard creaked loudly beneath her hoof. Trixie would have considered this a bad omen if it hadn’t of been for the soothing tune in the air. But her thoughts were focused on the music box at the moment. Her mind was abuzz with questions. The unicorn pondered if it could have been coincidental that it had started when she had spoken. Perhaps it had been left wound up from years past, and was just now finishing a tune it should have finished decades ago. Maybe it was enchanted to play whenever somepony new entered the manor, like a doorbell.

But Trixie never found out why. Because the moment that she was inside the mansion, the music box stopped playing. Trixie jumped in terror as the double doors slammed shut behind her. A bead of cold sweat trickled down her forehead as she heard the two simultaneous clicks of the locks.

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