Creeping Darkness

by Pen Stroke

A Writer Races The Shadows

Journal #69

I... I can’t do it... I just can’t do it.

I brought myself to the point, to the razor’s edge. It would only take a few more words to plunge Equestria into darkness. To give Nightmare Moon what she wants. Even now she’s whispering in my ear, her words dripping with anticipation. She knows it would only take maybe one more sentence. One final line where Twilight and her friends fall and Equestria’s fate is sealed.

But... I can’t do it... I just can’t bring myself to do it. I... I realize now that Alice would never want this. She wasn’t that kind of person, she could never be happy if she knew what I did to bring us back together. She’s not that kind of person... I’m not that kind of person. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing what I had done.

But does this realization come too late?The situation I’ve written is literally hopeless, there is no way for me to save Twilight and her friends without re-writting the story and I can’t do that. The Dark Place doesn’t allow it. Once part of the story has been accepted by the Dark Place it becomes history, unchangeable.

No... that’s not right. The Dark Place isn’t linear, there is no sense of time here, so I can change the past, just not what I’ve already written. My story depicts only the events it depicts, nothing more. Anything outside what is exactly written on the page can be changed. There is a brief moment left, from where I left the story off and when the Taken will attack. There is enough time for something to happen... for one thing to happen.

That still doesn’t change the fact I’ve written myself into a corner. There is no way for Twilight, Dash, or Fluttershy to escape the darkness without outside help... but the Dark Place won’t just let me bring in help like an angel from the sky. The aid has to come from a source that makes sense, is reasonable. Something that’s already been in the story before.

And any help I am able to bring will be at a cost. That’s the nature of the Dark Place. There’s light and there’s darkness, cause and effect. There’s guilt and there’s atonement. But the scales always need to balance, everything has a price. That’s where Zane had gone wrong. That’s why I let myself remain trapped in the darkness, so that I could save Bright Falls and Alice.

I’ve already paid a price once for this story. The darkness that clings to my chest is a sign of that. Telling Twilight about the record shop and the Old Gods had a cost, and it was part of my humanity...or at least I’m calling it my humanity.

In any case, part of me has become lost in the darkness.. part of my body is wrapped in the shadows of the Taken. It was the price I bore, and I have a sinking suspicion that anything I try to do to help Twilight and her friends now would result in me giving up the rest of my humanity. Saving them now would take a very drastic shift in the story, and the cost might be too high.

Unless... what if I gave up my humanity willingly... but do it in a way so I don’t become a Taken? I’ve already been in the story twice before, I am a character. I am the creature from Twilight’s dreams, the writer... I already exist in the story.

I think I know what to do... but it’s a gamble. Once I write this part of the story I will lose all control. The story and Equestria will be left completely to their own designs. I won’t be able to guarantee the happy ending... I may not even survive... but it’s the one thing I can think of that might actually work. A path for the story to take that the Dark Place will accept.

A final hope... one final chance to set things right and to make up for the fact that it’s because of me all this is happening. Alice... I’m sorry... but I may not make it back to you. Still... I have a feeling that if you were here... you’d understand.

There’s guilt and there’s atonement... and it’s time I atone for the darkness I unleashed.

~~~

The writer, Alan Wake, stepped back from the typewriter after hammering out one and a half pages of text.The first eleven paragraphs to the seventh chapter of “Creeping Darkness”. He stood in the center of the cabin’s study, waiting for the moment. Nightmare Moon’s voice filled his ears, crying out in her rage. She knew what he had done, what he was going to try to to do. She had already read what he had written.

“You’re only dooming yourself!” She yelled. “You can’t save them. All you’ve done is guaranteed you’ll share the same fate.”

Alan just closed his eyes, blocking out Nightmare Moon. He thought of the page he had just written, the events that were transpiring at that very moment. The story was already beginning to take effect. It spoke of him, the writer, getting up from his typewriter. It spoke of Nightmare Moon’s rage... and Alan knew and held his breath for what was about to come.

Closing his eyes, Alan suddenly felt himself being thrust upward yet never hitting the cabin’s roof. His body burned like it was on fire, and he would have yelled out in pain but he knew better. He had to hold his breath; he’d need it.

The burning sensation continued until a few moments later when the writer felt himself submerged.He opened his eyes, taking a moment to orient himself. He was deep underwater, but above he could see the pale light of the moon guiding him to the surface. Alan began to stroke, the air in his lungs starting to burn as his body demanded he take a breath.

Stroke after stroke Alan clawed his way to the surface, his body feeling unfamiliar to him. Still, it wasn’t something he couldn’t focus on. He had to get to the surface, to get to the air his body desperately desired.

His vision began to blur, oxygen deprivation starting to set in. His mouth was trying to open, his lungs trying to breath, but Alan kept his lips sealed tight. Finally, he broke the surface of the water, coughing and sputtering before breathing deeply on the cool, fresh night air.

He had made it, but then again Alan knew he would make it. That was what he had managed to write on that single page of the story, and as the writer made his way to the edge of the last few paragraphs he managed to hammer out in the cabin it started to come true as well. He swam to the shore of Shadow Moon Lake, stepping up onto the sand as he looked up at the towering form of Lakeshore Castle. It was still night out, the moon hanging over the western horizon. Twilight and her friends were still asleep in the general store, though Twilight would awaken within the next few minutes.

The writer also took note of his body, which was now alien to him. He had paid the price the darkness demanded. He had given it up his humanity and his control over the story, all of it in one fell swoop, to write himself into the story for a third and final time. But he had not become a Taken, wrapped in shadows and just another minion to dance at Nightmare Moon’s beckon call.

No, instead the writer had given up his humanity and his position at the typewriter, pulling the strings of fate, to make one final stand against the darkness. He stood on the lake shore not as the story’s author, not even as a human. No, he was now just a side character in the plot, a pony that could maybe... just maybe, save Twilight, Dash, and Fluttershy.

Yes, Alan had himself become one of the brightly colored ponies that inhabited Equestria. A plain earth stallion, with iron gray coat and a brown unkempt mane. He still had his favorite jacket, which had morphed to fit his new Equine shape. The pockets of the jacket had also moved to the sleeves, a more accessible location for ponies that tended to do so much with their mouths. In one pocket of his jacket Alan could feel the secure weight of his flare gun. The other, a standard revolver. He also had a headlamp on his head, the electric light already on and illuminating the ground in front of him.

The final detail was his cutie mark, a typewriter with a flashlight.

~~~

With his first step Alan knew he was now outside the story he had authored. Back in the cabin, he had only written to the point where he just standing on the lake shore. He had noted a description of his new pony body and that was it. Now the story was under its own power. What would happen would happen... he wouldn’t be able to do or change anything unless he got back to the cabin, back to his typewriter, and somehow got his fingers back.

And none of that would happen until after he had saved Twilight and her friends

Alan began with a few tentative steps, finding his new hooves strange and unfamiliar. Still, even new born foals can walk soon after being born. It was instinct, instinct Alan had. With each step his hooves seemed less alien, and soon the writer was able to at least walk at a decent pace. The writer wasn’t feeling brave enough to try running or anything much faster than a trot... but he knew he’d get practice with those particular skills soon enough.

Taking a moment to orient himself, Alan saw the few street lights of Emblem shining in the distance. He only had a short time to get down there, to reach the park where Twilight and her friends would be searching for the record store. Alan knew that because of how he had written the last chapter of “Creeping Darkness” he would not be able to interfere or save Rarity and Pinkie Pie.

The only hope he had was to get there at that moment, the last instant of the preceding chapter when Twilight and her friends were almost assuredly lost to the darkness. That would be the moment when what he had written in the cabin would end, when the events occurring wouldn’t be controlled by the words he put down on a page. That would be the moment when he could intervene and save Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy from the darkness.

It took a moment of looking, but Alan found the road down the mountain Twilight had traversed back at the beginning of the story. It would lead him straight into town, and he knew how to get to the park from there. Still... as Alan walked along the dirt road he felt the night air shifting around him, the stars growing dimmer.

“I won’t let you interfere.”

Nightmare Moon’s words hung on the wind, nipping like frostbite at Alan’s ears. He turned to one side, teeth wrapping around the modified handle of his revolver, finding he could pull the trigger with his tongue and that the gun itself settled perfectly into his mouth, as if it had been designed to be used by a pony.

He turned, seeing Taken starting to appear from the shadows around him. Alan turned his headlamp on the Taken, the shadow wrapped ponies baking off from the light as it burned at their shadows. Alan shifted a little, listening and feeling. He had bullets in the pocket where the gun had been, but reloading his revolver wouldn’t be easy without fingers... if at all possible.

Six shots in the gun and a flashlight... that’s all he had to get him safely down the mountain. A trek he had to make quickly otherwise he’d arrive too late to help Twilight. Alan couldn’t help but laugh to himself a bit, his tongue playing with the trigger of his gun.

“Well, at least I have a ‘Flaming Eye of Mordor’.” Alan mumbled to himself, glancing up at his headlamp and thinking of his friend Barry. His literary agent who, upon finding a similar headlamp in Bright Falls, proceeded to proclaim the simple head mounted flashlight was equal in strength to the mythical eye of Sauron from the classic Tolkien tales.

The Taken, however, would not wait patiently as Alan reminisced. They charged in, bidden on by their mistress to kill Alan before he could intervene. The writer glanced up, snapped out of his memories as one of the Taken lunged at him. The writer managed to dodge, rolling across the ground once before jumping back up to his hooves. He then broke into a gallop, charging down the mountain. He could outrun them for a time, but it was always better to deal with the Taken than to just run from them. If he could only figure out how to reload the gun.

~~~

Alan dove through the open doorway, spinning once he was inside and throwing his body against door to slam it shut. He lifted a hoof, flipping the light switch of the house he had just entered and cursing as nothing happened. The Taken stallion outside with the ax was now swinging at the door, resounding thunks reaching Alan’s ears as the ax began to work its way through the wood.

Alan flipped the lock on the door, knowing it wouldn’t hold for long but would buy him some time. He was in the kitchen of somepony’s house, not far from the park where Twilight and her friends would be but he knew he was running out of time. He had even caught glimpse of the ponies from the far side of a fence, passing a shop that had ads for fireworks in the windows.

Fireworks... Alan wish he had the time and the fingers to make use of those. Still, with hooves in place of hands and his time already running short, the author continued to make his way to the park. He had his gun, far more lethal and accurate than any firework.

That had been just about half an hour ago, which meant Twilight and her friends had probably already arrived at the park and were now starting to search the shops. He didn’t have long, maybe ten minutes tops. Still... he was close, he could make it... if he didn’t have to worry about the Taken.

Alan shook his front right leg as he leaned to one side, managing to toss out the last of his ammunition. He then swung his head, the chamber for his revolver clicking open. By some small miracle the gun was enchanted. The gun glowed as the empty casings from the spent rounds popped out and the fresh bullets began to levitate into the air. His last six bullets... Alan was honestly amazed he had managed to get down the mountain without using them all. Still, he only had six left... he’d have to make them count.

A loud thunk accompanied by the splintering sound of wood announced the ax breaking through the door, Alan’s headlamp glinting off the metal as it was yanked back. The Taken stallion on the far side made another swing, further weakening the door before throwing itself at the door.

Wooden splinters cascaded across the room as the door buckled and failed under the weight of the stallion. The shadows that had encased the Taken were already gone, Alan having burnt them off when the attack first began. He had just needed a few more bullets to finally bring the stallion down, bullets he now had loaded into the revolver.

Alan pointed the gun as his tongue found the trigger. The kick back from the revolver felt strange on his mouth, the force leaving a temporary tingling sensation. The writer could only imagine that bearing the kickback from a gun on his teeth wasn’t something a dentist would approve of.

Two shots, in addition to the three Alan had put in the stallion earlier, finally made the Taken go down, body disappearing as the ax he had been wielding clattered to the ground. Alan slipped away his revolver, stepping forward and picking up the ax in his teeth, grimacing at the flavor. With only four shots left he’d want to save the revolver for an emergency. The ax would be a good substitute, though Alan didn’t understand how these ponies were able to stand putting so many different things in their mouths.

Moving through the house, Alan came to the front door. He undid the lock and nosed it open, stepping out into the streets. While the night had been calm when he first leapt into the house, a dark wind was now starting to stir. Alan thought back to the last chapter, remembering the events. The darkness was gathering; it was about to spring its trap on Twilight and her friends. He was still a few blocks away; he’d need to move quickly to make it.

Nightmare Moon seemed to know this, because the moment Alan put a hoof out in the direction of the park he felt a chill run down his spine. Turning back, he saw a small, fast, shadow wrapped mare was now sprinting at him from behind a hedgerow. Alan cursed, breaking into a gallop again as he raced towards the park. He did NOT have time for this.

~~~

BANG

With that last shot Alan had spent all the ammo he had for his revolver, the writer dropping the weapon as he bolted down a back alley. The Taken had been dogging him every step of the way, and while they hadn’t managed to kill him yet they were still accomplishing their goal. The sky was dark, the wind was whipping, and the prickling on the back of Alan’s neck told him that he was running out of time.

Reaching an intersection in the alley, Alan turned right, cursing as he quickly found himself face to face with a fence. The wooden fence was missing one of its vertical planks; Alan able to see the park through the gap. Twilight and her friends weren’t outside yet but it wouldn’t be much longer. Still, maybe this would be close enough. Alan glanced back at the flare gun and its one, unspent shot.

He had been saving it for that moment, that final moment that was left unwritten in the last chapter. If he could fire the flare off at the right moment that burst of light could save Twilight and her friends. It would be the saving grace, the entire reason he had written himself into the story... and he had only one shot.

Alan suddenly found himself wishing he could get a lot closer, but he had been trying to near the park for the past few minutes and several large Taken had always stood in his way. The writer could only imagine that it was Nightmare Moon. From the way the Taken were throwing themselves at him, Alan had convinced himself Nightmare Moon had figured out exactly what he was planning.

A hoof step behind Alan made the writer cringe, looking over his shoulder as a Taken crept up behind him. It was a big brute, the shadowed pony one of Celestia’s royal guards. It may have even been the same stallion that Applejack had fought with a frying pan. Alan didn’t know if the Taken could be re-used like that, but at the moment he let himself believe it was the same Taken.

It gave him even more reason to kick its hindquarters.

The Taken stallion shifted, the sword in its teeth glinting in the light from Alan’s headlamp. The shadows from the stallion were already burning off slowly, from just being in the light of the headband flashlight, but it would take several minutes for the shadows to burn off at such a slow rate... minutes Alan didn’t have.

For a time the Taken just stood there, sharing a staring match with Alan as the gray pony lowered himself to the ground, getting ready to dodge from the coming blow.

“Well... come on!” Alan taunted, the tension building inside him. “I doubt that witch sent you just to stand there and stare at me.”

This seemed to click the Taken stallion into action, the mountain of a pony galloping forward as he drew up the sword. Alan dodged to the right, rolling in the dirt as the sword struck the ground where he had been just moments before. Thus began the dance, Alan ducking and weaving to stay just a few steps ahead of the Taken soldier while his headlamp was kept focused. He had to burn away the shadows, then he could maybe do something to get rid of the stallion.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

The voice on the wind caught Alan so off guard he almost tripped, just barely managing to keep his hoofing and avoid another swing from the sword. That had been Rarity; Alan knew the sound of her voice despite never hearing it before... an author’s intuition coming into play. It had started. This was when Twilight and Fluttershy would race out of the pet shot to try and help their friends. He was running out of time.

“YYYYAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“HHHEELLLPPP!”

The cries from Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash only confirmed Alan’s fears: it was getting close. He only had a couple minutes at best before the moment he’d need to fire the flare gun, and he was still trying to deal with the Taken soldier.

He needed to run, needed to put some distance between him and the attacking stallion, but the only direction he could run was away from the park. The fence kept him blocked in the alley behind the shops. He had to stay there, the gap in the fence his one means of firing the flare gun into the park itself.

A roar from the Taken soldier brought Alan out of his thought, realizing too late he had lost track of the fight. The soldier was upon him, slamming into Alan like a linebacker. He fell back, bouncing against the ground once before slamming into a hard brick wall on the far side of the alley.

His vision was swimming and Alan was fairly sure he could feel the first few drops of blood starting to trickle down the back of his neck. Slumping over, he struggling to his hooves and cursed under his breath. If the writer didn’t have brain damage he at least had a concussion or a very painful bump.

Not offering Alan any respite, the soldier loomed over him. It raised the sword and Alan struggled to get back on his hooves. He couldn’t die... not now. He was too close... he had to at the very least save Twilight and her friends. He hadn’t come this far, raced down the mountain and fought through the town, just to get tripped at the finish line.

Still, the blow to the head was keeping Alan from coordinating his hooves. He couldn’t get back up, couldn’t get away, and the soldier’s muscles began to tense. This was it, the sword began to swing down. It was going to connect right with Alan’s neck. The writer tried not to think of how gruesome his death was going to be, but his imagination refused to obey as images of the gore presented themselves to Alan.

The blow, however, was interrupted as something smacked into the soldiers face. The sudden loss of vision made the Taken soldier swing wide, nicking Alan in the shoulder. It was a wound that hurt but wouldn’t kill him. That and the pain seemed to help Alan’s brain snap back into gear, the author getting back to his hooves.

He looked as the Taken soldier tossed off the thing that had smacked him in the head, Alan watching the item drop to the dirty ground of the alley. It was Applejack’s hat. He hadn’t ever seen it before, but somehow Alan just knew that the dusty old hat belonged to the orange farm pony. His mind clicked back to the last chapter he had written. Fluttershy lost the hat while trying to save Rainbow Dash, just before Twilight Sparkle used a cart on the street to break the shop’s window.

It was a minor detail... a single minor detail from the last chapter that had become his saving grace. Despite being away from the typewriter, the events happening still held some of the writer’s style and nature of storytelling. Maybe there could be a happy ending to this after all.

Still, Alan could not muse for long. HE was running out of time. He had only a few seconds, a minute at best before he’d need to fire the flare gun. Still, Alan realized that he had no hope of firing the flare while this soldier was taking swing at him. He needed to get away, put some distance between him and the soldier so he could fire the flare, but at the same time he couldn’t run away from this spot in the alley. This was the only place he had a clear shot of the park.

Only one idea came to Alan’s mind, one thought that might work. Still, he frowned at the idea. It was going to hurt... a lot.

The soldier, recovered from being temporarily blinded by the hat, began to move towards Alan again. The writer lowered himself down, legs spread as he got ready to put his haphazard and crazy plan into action. He waited, letting the solider start to swing his sword before jumping to one side.

Alan broke into a full run, circling around the Taken. He snatched up Applejack’s hat, skidding to a stop near the wooden fence before tossing the hat up onto his head, giving it a tap with his hoof to make sure it was in place. If this worked, he’d be able to give the hat back to Fluttershy... and the author knew the pegasus would appreciate it.

The Taken soldier turned, charging down Alan. Again, the author dodged, but this time leaping ahead. He leaped between the legs of the stallion, rolling and praying he didn’t get stepped on. Thankfully, while one of the hooves clipped him there was no major damage. The soldier crashed into the fence, his head getting wedge in the opening as Alan got back to his hooves.

It had worked, but the plan wasn’t over. The writer backed up a few steps, grimacing a bit. This was the part that was going to hurt. The author charged, leaping into the air and landing on the back of the mountainous soldier. The burning pain from touching the shadows almost made the author stumble, but he kept his balance as he then leapt from the back of the soldier, jumping over the fence.

He landed hard, stumbling and flopping onto the ground. The impact dazed Alan for a moment, another blow to the head ensuring that the author at the very least did have a concussion. Still, Alan forced himself up, eyes moving to the park. The Taken were circling, drawing in. This was the end, the moment was just a few seconds away. Alan wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but he was sure he could hear Rainbow Dash saying her final line from the last chapter.

Alan grunted, body wishing to fail and just lay there on the street but his mind forcing it to comply. He reached his head back, not even bothering to get up off the street as his teeth found the handle of the flare gun. He extracted the tool, bringing his head forward. He nudged his head against the ground, using the hard street surface to push Applejack’s hat loose so it wasn’t blocking his aim.

Alan lined up the shot, tongue finding the trigger of the flare gun. Behind him, the writer could hear the Taken soldier was now hacking through the fence. Still, it would be too late. Alan let a smile pull at the edges of his lips, his tongue pulling on the trigger.

The flare gun roared, the bright red sprite of the flare hurtling through the air, leaving a thick trail of smoke behind it. The arch was perfect, the flare clearing the Taken and reaching the airspace right above Twilight and her friends before bursting, a loud bang ripping through the night as the park was bathed in the light.

The light cascaded, the Taken and ravens all burning away in pain from the blinding light.

~~~

Twilight’s ears were ringing and her eyes were burning. Was this what it felt like to be Taken? To be engulfed in such a bright light? No; not only did that not make sense, this wasn’t nearly as painful as she would have imagined. No, this was something else. As the light faded, Twilight’s eyes were greeted with the empty expanse of the park. The Taken were gone... they had been saved.

“What... what was that?” Dash asked, looking around as she rubbed her eyes.

“Are... are we dead?” Fluttershy asked.

“No... I think we’re okay.”

“But... how... was that you, Twilight?”

“No.” The unicorn replied, looking over at the pegasus. “But whatever it was it got rid of the Taken.”

“Not all of them,” Fluttershy said, a tremor in her voice. Twilight and Dash turned, following the pegasus’ pointed hoof as a soldier Taken burst through a fence a fair distance away from the trio. Still, while the sight of the remaining Taken was frightening, Twilight’s eyes were instead drawn to the line of smoke in the air, which lead from them to a figure lying motionless on the ground.

“Hurry! We have to help that pony!” Twilight called, breaking into a gallop. Fluttershy and Dash took flight, following Twilight in the air.

The soldier stood over the motionless stallion on the ground, lifting the sword to deliver the final strike. His last attack, however, was interrupted as Dash flew right into his face, putting the light from her headlamp in the soldier’s eyes.

The Taken stallion cringed, backing up as he raised a hoof. Dash continued the assault, dive bombing the soldier and being a perfect distraction while Fluttershy and Twilight worked to pull the injured stallion to safety. They moved into the absolute nearest shop, pulling the stallion in through the door before trying the light switch. Thankfully, the electric lights clicked on. They had a safe haven.

“DASH!” Twilight called out the open door. The blue pegasus looped once in the air, dodging a swing from the soldiers sword before chancing a glance at Twilight. The pegasus gave a nod, and, after dive bombing the taken Soldier one final time, the rainbow maned pegasus soared towards the shop, zipping in the door before Twilight slammed it shut and flipped the lock.

Comments

[Ultima D]

Tense
the tension was thick

[adran06]

1257798 I think that's the king of all understatements there. This was WELL beyond tense. This was worthy of a Twilight freak-out.

[Majora God of Chaos]

Okay, I have to buy this game now. In other news, bravo. You are epic, my friend.

[Moonlight Tome]

This was downright gripping with the time limit Alan was on.

[DJMEGAMOUTH]

The tension is so goddamn real it’s amazing.