Pink Symphony

by DragonLS

CH3: Nightmare

Special Thanks To:

Editor: DaMobbs

&

Proofreader: Meeester

*****

So you got invited to a party then? Sounds like a fine time to ‘boogie your tail,’ don’tcha think?

…..

What? You can’t dance!? I find that very hard to believe, coming from someone of your stature and background. Are you pulling my leg here?

…..

Why am I even asking you this? Well, I used to be a dancer back in the day, maybe a millennia or so ago. With my skills and giant afro, I rocked those dance floors until the sun came up to end my crusade. It was madness I tell you.

…..

How am I still alive if it was a millennium ago? Well that’s for me to know and you to find out. Besides, I thought you were interested in your own story, not mine?

…..

You’re curious as to who I am? Well, I’m sure you’ll find out when your story comes to a close. Trust me, all of the answers will be revealed in due time. You just need to keep listening. Now, shall we continue?

*****

Chapter 3: Nightmare

You were still rather puzzled why Pinkie, a pony that you barely even knew, would go and organize a party in your honor. But then again, you had met crazier folk back when you were still in the music gig. However, Pinkie was definitely not one of those normal, run-of-the-mill crazies.

That bubbly, pink mare was uniquely crazy.

She still had that craziness that everypony had, but again, hers was unique. If you had to put it in different words, you’d daresay it was refreshing. Her carefree attitude and infinite reservoir of happiness topped that off like the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae.

All you could do was rub your head at the sheer confusion that is Pinkie Pie.

You had to admit though; you loved her cotton candy mane. The amount of time she put into styling it that way must have been staggering. That or it was all natural. You had trouble wrapping your head around that thought.

Wait, why were you thinking of her so much? You blamed it on thinking of the upcoming party for now. Speaking of which, you needed to get ready, but would it even matter if you dressed for the occasion? Back then, there were always the after-parties whenever you finished a music gig with your band. There were only four things that mattered at those: the mares, the drinks, the food, and the fame.

You had to admit you missed that life a tad. Some of your best memories with the band and your fans were at those parties. But that string of great times came to an end when your band disbanded and went their separate ways.

Back at your house, you held your trusty silver trumpet in your hooves while you laid in your bed, absentmindedly twirling it around. You examined every bend and tube, looking for any dirty spots or deformities that could possibly influence its overall sound quality. You sighed contentedly as it was still in pristine condition. If anything were to happen to your instruments, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself, since these inanimate musical companions had been with you since the beginning.

You positioned the trumpet’s mouthpiece onto your muzzle, tapped each valve to ensure they slid without any resistance, and buzzed your lips. A hearty tone escaped from the bell and traveled through your apartment quickly. Glad that it was still in tune, you began stringing together more notes, your hoof dancing across the valves. You poured your soul and skill into the trumpet, and it responded in kind with a smooth jazz-like melody that swam through the air. Everything else in your mind went blank as you focused on playing.

You missed this sound and you missed your band, but after a certain event forced your band to retire, you had no choice. Recalling this, you abruptly stopped, the melody ceasing to exist as it was replaced by silence. You looked at the trumpet for a moment longer before a single tear found its way down your cheek.

You sighed sadly, dropping the trumpet by your side. You lay on your bed, thinking, until your eyes could no longer keep themselves open...

*****

You don’t know where you are, or how you got here, but you knew one thing: it was pitch black. You felt weightless, as if you were floating in place. You couldn’t see anything, and it was deathly quiet. The only sound you could hear was of your own breathing. You turned your head, looking for anything that might give you an idea of where you were.

All of a sudden, your body felt heavy, and that weightless feeling mysteriously disappeared. Your hooves impacted something hard and flat. Then, a bright light blinded you. You shielded your eyes with your hooves, trying to make out where it came from.

When your eyes had adjusted, you found yourself in a small study. Bookshelves lined the walls, each filled to the brim with books of many different sizes. There was a lit fireplace in the corner with a couple of sofa chairs surrounding it. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of de ja vu.

You turned in place to see until your hoof hit something by accident. You looked down and immediately regretted doing so.

An old, yellow earth pony laid there in a pool of red, looking up at you with its glazed eyes. You retched as the smell of rotten flesh and blood finally hit your nostrils. You backed up hastily, only to trip over something else. It was the very same body that you were just looking at. You turned around in a panic as the floor was covered in copies of the same pony. Eventually, there was nowhere left to stand on the floor.

You wanted to get out of here. To escape. To retreat; anything to get away from wherever this was. You looked around to find a door on the opposite side of the room. Hastily, you ran towards it, your movement faltering as you stepped on one of the many dead bodies lying on the floor. Reaching for the knob, you opened it only to come face to face with an intimidating, black Pegasus.

At least, you assumed it was black. The light in the room seemed to cut out as it crossed the threshold of the door. You could only tell it was there as it was a shade darker than the rest of the inky blackness behind it. There was only one reason you could determine where its face was:

It had a devilish smile, its razor sharp teeth gleaming even in the pitch black miasma on the other side.

You then notice something in its hoof. You couldn’t tell what it was, but before you could so much as blink…

You felt it stab your heart.

*****

You awoke with a start, sweat dripping down your face as you gasp for breath. You quickly looked around your dim-lit room, searching for that dark pegasus. You tried to calm your breathing, already piecing together what just happened.

But you already knew. You knew exactly what all of that was. It was the same nightmare you’ve been having since the death of your father. It’s been six months now, and it still hasn’t relented. The nightmare came and went spontaneously in the beginning before, but now it was almost every single time you fell asleep. You’ve only gotten used to a little bit of the nightmare, but it was still enough to terrify you.

Your father was a brilliant flute player with an astounding sense of pride and friendship. It was that very same stallion who inspired you to take up the trumpet and saxophone. He was kind, caring, and supportive; the best father any colt or filly could dream of having. He had a smile that assured you nothing would go wrong.

...Until he was murdered in his own study.

You didn’t know who murdered him, but the nightmares never stopped.

Nevertheless, you needed to move on with your life. You didn’t know who the murderer was and you certainly couldn’t do anything about it. Not even the royal guard could figure it out. You assumed they were just a bunch of bigots who didn’t know how to do their job and left it at that, but no matter what you told yourself, there was no stopping the tear that ran down your cheek. You couldn’t recall how many restless days and nights you had cried yourself to sleep.

You grabbed a nearby tissue to wipe the sweat and tear off your face and peered outside your window. The sun was almost behind the distant mountains now, draping the quaint town in their massive shadows. You couldn’t believe you had fallen asleep for this long.

You slapped your cheeks, trying to eradicate the rest of your grogginess by force. You didn’t want to show any weakness today, especially if you were the ‘main attraction’ at Pinkie’s party. Part of you didn’t want to go, in fear of running into that pink ball of crazy but also because of the nightmare.

However, you didn’t want to appear rude. This is your home now, and first impressions were extremely important, something your father had taught you.

You sprung up off the bed and almost tripped over Silver on the floor. It must have fallen when you fell asleep. You picked it up and brushed it off from whatever dust it might have accumulated when you dozed off. You looked at it for a moment and smiled.

If first impressions were everything, why not wow them and bring some of your jazzy soul with you?

Comments

[Shonen XIV]

Great story! Congrats on being featured!

[DragonLS]

1212125

I'm shocked that I am. This... This is the happiest moment of my life.

[Shonen XIV]

1212128
You earned this *bro hoofs*

[KnoFear]

I wasn't sure about faving this, but then you made me a trumpet player. Consider this story faved, sir.

[Ender Roarke]

I was going to favorite this and then you made me a (shudder) trumpet player. And then I realized you also gave me a saxaphone and favorited anyway. I'm excited to read more.

[Curious]

Well, I know now that the taunting voice is Discord. I'm certain of it. Just gonna have to read further for the reveal, I guess.
i.imgur.com/dHOp3.png

[Prince Leviathan]

Everytime I read saxophone, I think of the Saxophone guys and that song gets in my head.

Sorry.