Shatter, Silence. Shatter

by WritingSpirit

Shatter, Silence. Shatter.

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When it all began, it began as silence.

Black, rioting silence, detestable as the dreamer, and she was a very sound dreamer indeed. You'd hear nothing but a sniffle or a whimper from it, sometimes even a gasp if you're lucky. You'd hear a cryptic chatter or two even, though she might've grown out of it already. Nevertheless, before all of that, before everything could even comprehend to begin, it began as silence.

That was how it started.

It started making a noise. A distant, grated screech, somewhere in the deepest confines of the abyss, snarling and gnashing its fangs at her solemn gaze, patronizing as she would like it to be. This Blackness, formless and featureless, made a noise, and for the longest time, it stayed there making a noise, curled up and defenseless and always seized by the most violent palpitations. This Blackness would glare up at her from the bottom and she would glare down at it, and for the longest time, she thinks, they would spend their nights together merely glaring at each other from afar.

She would never step into its shadow.

She knew better not to.

Not after the first time.

Alas, it was a betrayal that sent her spiraling towards the abyss. Or was it the abyss spiraling towards her? Nevertheless, the Blackness had tendrils that could pierce the stars and a serrated surface to leave a gash to any planet unlucky to brush its sides, seeping and slurping whatever photon it could pounce upon in its raging sights. The Blackness had a sense of smell that would descry any wandering prey, leaving any unfortunate soul before it to be consumed in its wake. Above all, the Blackness had an unquenchable thirst, destined to drain any ocean and oasis it could find, and from this thirst came its savagery, for what creature of sympathy would batter at bones just to suckle for some spinal fluid? One can even say the Blackness was mad, but they'd be wrong, for madness had no sense of purpose. Instead, the Blackness found a joyful purpose in giving the gift of despair, and despair became its religion, and it shall remain devoted to it for the longest time.

It was a betrayal of time, for what was once a whimpering whelp had grown into a monstrosity beyond her wildest imagination.

She'd find a way to kill it, of course. To slay the beast, as the knights of old would do. Yet however much control she could exhibit, the Blackness would mock her in her own realm and sully her teachings. It would devour her commandments and vandalize her methods. It would laugh and laugh and laugh. And all she could do was flee into the forests and through the mountains, hoping that its shadow will always stay out of reach. But of course, it continued to grow, ceaselessly and steadily. And she continued to flee.

And it will continue growing, and she would continue fleeing.

And for the longest time, she thinks, they would spend their nights together, merely running forward with no end in sight.

She was only fortunate it lasted longer than it had the first time around.
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---

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"Luna."

Her name.

That was her name.

"Thy name is Luna."

That was definitely her name, wasn't it?

She looked into her mirror— the only mirror left, now that she thought about it. This single crystal jutting out from the center like a parasitic growth, shining brightly only because of the light coming from her horn, drenching what's left of the world in a vivid blue. To think, she laughed to herself, blue would be the last color she would ever, ever see, holed up here against the wall of this massive cavern with only her fractured reflection to confide in.

She stared into her tired eyes, her irises cut as they were by the edges of the crystal's many facets, fogged up occasionally by her breathless panting. What life that flickered in them had been snuffed out, much like the sparkles in her mane, which had regressed to its soggy, limp form, bereft of the lustrous constellations once woven within. Her back hooves were worn out, flaking off like clumps of dust desperately clutching at her bones. Her front hooves were laced with cuts, blood seeping out of every wound she had accumulated in her escape. In the view of her blue light, however, they were a squirming black, like maggots dipped in ink emerging drip by drip after burrowing through her veins for so long.

Black and blue, she chuckled at herself.

What a way to go.

"Thy name is Luna... thy name is Luna..."

It was night outside. It must be. She could feel it, that sensation in the pit of her stomach that arrives whenever night falls. Might be her gut instinct, or it might just be her hunger acting up again. Not that it shouldn't, having been suppressed for days now. Nevertheless, it was impressive how far several tree branches and some mushroom growing on the bark had brought her. Dimming her light low, she slowly crawled towards the shrieking winds, shielding her eyes from the blazing barrage of snow. Behind the blinding white, there remained only darkness. Not the Blackness, no. Just darkness.

Frost buried her vision and numbed her senses, yet she could still feel it coming nearer. She could hear it calling to her with its twisted pipes.The Blackness had a significant call, sounding much like a dreadful, ravishing warble that would find a home in an asylum mixed with the screeching wail of a warning siren. They were the chimes of havoc, as she like to put it. She could hear it even now, ringing brightly beneath the qualm of the blizzard.

"Thy name is Luna..."

With a disfigured roar, it emerged from the darkness. The Blackness, as great as the mountain that Canterlot Castle stands — no, stood upon, lumbering towards her with a devilish howl and consuming the final fragments of the world in its furious charge. She could barely see it's eyes at the very top, hidden somewhere underneath its buzzing, cascading skin, yet she could feel them glaring down at her lithe form. With it, she could feel the glare of everyone else: all those that had perished, bodies burnished black. All the world and their deaths, culminating into a single entity that was once a miserable clump of formless dust lingering at the bottom of the abyss, to which she could only close her eyes.

"We're sorry."

The Blackness crouched low with a snarl, the screams of thousands upon thousands ricocheting into the sky. She recognized some of the voices, yet try as she might, she couldn't put forth a single name. Yet what does it matter at the very end? What does it all really matter? The dead are deaf, after all.

"THA.... THY..."

Ah, of course.

"THY NAME.... THY NAME IS..."

That was its name too.

"THY NAME IS LUNA.... THY NAME IS... LUNA..."

"Thou art wrong," she muttered, knowing that the beast can't hear her, or would even bother to. "Thou art nothing. Just nothing. Thou knoweth not who we are, Thou knoweth not of our capabilities..."

The beast glared down at her, eyes like twin moons.

"Thy name is Luna," she continued. "Sister to Celestia, may she rest in silence and serenity. Princess... princess of the night... of the moon and the stars"— she spat out a lick of blood as her horn lit itself up —"and guardian of dreams... but surely thou knows the latter one was truly a mistake. No, thou wast born of dreams. Thou wast borne of the nightmares. Thou hadst no name... thou art but a nameless beast... and hereupon thou shalt perish."

There was a snap in the sky, frigid as the wind, yet louder. The Blackness had heard it, for it had reared its viscous head to the clouds. Glaring beams of light pierced the glass of the atmosphere, the swirling clouds quickly dissipating as fire razed it all away. Rock after rock pelted its fuzzing skin, all of it falling from the colossal body of the moon, slowly but surely making its fiery descent.

The Blackness growled at it, the celestial body slowly making its approach, before training its glare back at her. Luna was laughing now, much louder than she had ever laughed in her entire lifetime. Her cacophony of cackles rippled through the fractured sky as blood spilled from her lips, her glare burning brighter than her sister's sun could ever hope to imagine. She laughed and laughed and laughed until she could rouse the dead from their slumber even as her very own moon neared its end, its surface already striking the soil and rupturing everything underneath.

The screams filled the sky, harmonious in the lowest rumbles and the highest of her shrieking bout of laughter. With a final tear of joy in her eye, Luna mustered up the last of her strength to straggle back into the cave, turning her back against the moonlight she had often adored. Once more, she gave a furtive glance at the jagged mirror, where she was met with what was her most genuine smile in a long time. In a long, long time. With no more than that tear in her eye to complete her masterpiece, she turned to face the Blackness, and the grand tidal wave of white light flooding in from right behind it.

And as she leaves with only a whimper to be remembered by, one question remained on her mind.

How loud can she make this monster squeal?
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---

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"Luna?"

When it all began, it began as silence.

"Luna, you've been in there for quite some time now."

Black, rioting silence.

"Luna? Luna, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, sister," she quavered. "I'm fine... I'm fine... I'll be out in a minute..."

"Okay... alright. Just let me know if you need anything, alright Luna?"

"I'm fine... I'm fine..." she muttered, knowing that her sister can't hear her, or would even bother to. "Thy name is Luna... thy name is Luna... thy name is Luna..."

Once more, she gazed back up at the mirror and put on her best smile, never quite noticing the seething blackness churning at the corner of her eyes.

"Thy name is Luna... thy name is Luna..."

When it all began, it began as silence.
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Comments

[Pyro The Reader]

Neato symbolism manifested as an eldritch abomination, that's always a nice thing!

The only complaint is that the spacings are a little bit jarring!

[WritingSpirit]

8300911
The spacing's probably cause I've been conditioned to write more speech and drama work than the usual novel stuff, so when I'm writing, I'm usually imagining a disembodied Morgan Freeman head narrating it over my shoulder and every time he pauses to take a little drink, I add a little space.

It doesn't have to be Morgan Freeman though.

[Rockstar_Raccoon]

So... That was pretty cool, but it wasn't entirely clear to me what was going on at the end... Was she fighting the darkness of her own mind? Was that end her making some monumentus effort to push it back into the corner once again?

[WritingSpirit]

8301426
Well, it's a little too early to say. This is just Tale I, after all.

[Rockstar_Raccoon]

8301463
Oh! Ok then. I'll wait for more chapters.

[WritingSpirit]

8301479
It'll be a quick one, though it would take a little piecing together, seeing as each tale will be focusing on a different character, but set in the same universe. They'll be slowly building up the world as the tales are told, with some of it being rather information heavy depending on the track they're based on.

[Aether Rain]

The track video doesn't seems to be working, but that was some good stuff you write there

[WritingSpirit]

9269641
Fixed it, thanks for the heads up!

Also, glad you liked it!

[PresentPerfect]

I think I get it, but I don't think I get it.

[HiddenEntity]

This was awesome, however, I must ask, what album collection is this based on?

[WritingSpirit]

10981266
Glad you enjoyed it! The whole anthology's based on the soundtrack to the anime series Terror in Resonance and is composed by Yoko Kanno, who's also responsible for the soundtrack of Cowboy Bebop and Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C..

Most of the 'adaptation' portion is cursory though. You don't have to watch the show or listen to the soundtrack for these stories to work, though I do recommend giving them a look. Honestly, I just used it because I loved the music and they make a pretty good framework for these ideas that I have.