Rainbow Dash's Awesome Nightmare Night Haunted House Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Adventure

by TheDriderPony

You Have Nothing to Fear...

The door opens into a run-down old study. No doubt it was quite a showpiece once, with bookshelves full of thick tomes no one had ever read and a rug that cost a small fortune. But those days are long past.

Now what bookshelves remain are toppled or empty, and the rug is more bare than thread. Leftovers from a moth's feast hang in tatters, partially obscuring the view of a dead garden through cracked glass. The elements have long since snuck in and invading plants have consumed the once beautiful desk and chair.

You move carefully through the wreckage, wing-assisted hops carrying you over the worst of it.

It's strange; it feels like something should have jumped out or tried to scare you by now. The room itself isn't even that scary, just old and overgrown. But if you've learned anything from Daring Do and the odd O&O session with Spike, it's that the things that look the least suspicious are often the trickiest.

That's why you don't trust gazebos anymore.

The big desk and chair are the only things reasonably intact, so you investigate them first. The wood is completely devastated by lichen, while a thick coat of moss has claimed the chair. You try the drawers but they're all rusted shut.

"Well this is lame," you declare as you crash down into the seat. A plume of spores blasts off the moss as you do, but you hardly notice in the poor light. Besides, it's actually pretty soft and comfy. "This isn't scary at all. Maybe Starlight's spells broke?"

You sit and ponder as a strange haze settles over your mind. The chair really is comfy. So comfy. Maybe you'll just take a quick little break. Rest your hooves. You take one deep breath after another as you relax, never noticing how your eyes start to droop or how the room starts ton darken into shapelessness.

---

"Son of a-! Copy!"

The sound of a crash and swearing jolts you awake. Your eyes dart in confused panic for a moment before you remember where you are. As your heart rate settles down, you focus on the source of the commotion.

Looks like the intern tripped again, but today he had the bad luck to also crash into Paper Pusher. And Pusher looks as livid as his tie is coffee-soaked. Too bad. Photo Copy was a good worker. You'll miss him.

You yawn as you shake your head and try to collect your thoughts. What were you just doing again? You must've zoned out for a minute and lost your train of thought. That's not a good sign. There's too much work to be done to risk getting caught slacking. It's not even lunch yet and your inbox still dwarfs its outbound cousin.

With this sudden clarity returns your awareness of the low thrum of office activity. Ponies murmuring into their headsets, quills scratching away at reports, the ancient ventilation system rattling and rumbling as it runs another cycle. A familiar symphony.

You check the clock on the far wall above the break area. The time is... blurry. Very blurry.

You squint and rub your eyes before rifling through your desk for a bottle of eye drops. Once you find and apply them, the clock is still unreadably blurry. It might be time to get a stronger prescription again. Which means another sick day wasted visiting Dr. Retina and another fight with the company's insurance provider over coverage and whether he's in network or not. Just what you need.

Since you seem to be taking a break anyway, you decide to stand up for a quick stretch. The cubicle isn't exactly large, but there's just enough space to stand and stretch without knocking anything over. Which isn't to say that your knees, back, and neck don't protest the action all the same.

The squeaky old swivel chair squeals in protest as you sit back down. Dr. Alignment's note clearly said that you need ergonomic support, but Finance has been dragging their hooves to order anything new for your department for the past few years and you doubt they'll loosen their purse-strings any time soon.

You pop a painkiller and smooth out the hem of your skirt where it's starting to pull against your hose again. Don't want to risk getting a run. Honestly, if Primp and her secretary posse weren't such busybodies whose sole passion was writing up everybody and anybody for the smallest of dress code violations, you wouldn't bother with the darn things at all.

But, needs must.

Inking your quill, you get back to your task of transcribing order forms to a spreadsheet... just in time for a sudden barking laugh to startle you and send a jagged smear of ink across the page. You look up and scowl at its source.

Of course, it was the usual suspect, making no effort to disguise his guilt since a stallion from upper management was laughing alongside him. Rising Star, the wonder kid.

Honestly he wouldn't be so bad a colt if he wasn't so insufferably productive and successful. And maybe a tenth as smug about it. Not even three years on the job and he's already in line for a promotion over you. Meanwhile here you are, ten times his seniority and still doing basically the same data entry you started thirty years ago.

Thirty years? Was that right? No, wasn't it twenty? No, you remember the little ceremony they gave you for twenty years of service. There was sheet cake. You got a mug with the company logo and an extra vacation day. Has it really been that long...?

"Good. Just the mare I was looking for."

You're startled out of your thoughts by the sudden presence of coffee, sweat, and cheap aftershave. "M-Mr. Bottom Line. Good morning."

Like always, he ignores your greeting and carries on talking. "I just got off the phone with Corporate. They've been running their own numbers against these figures our department put out and they're finding some major discrepancies."

The bottom drops out of your stomach at the dreaded word. "Discrepancies?"

He nods, wafting across another wave of Eau De Overwork. "Either half a million bits' worth of product has evaporated into thin air, or somepony can't do basic math. I need you to crosscheck these against every goods receipt to come out of the manufacturing floor in the past three months and figure out where somepony screwed up." He slaps an overstuffed manila folder onto your inbox pile, making the whole stack wobble precariously.

Forget professionalism, you can't help but gape. The file's easily a half a hoof thick. Just finding all the relevant paperwork is going to take hours! And that's not even considering you still have your normal tasks to do!

You open the packet and scan the first few pages. As you do, you recognize the name on the cover page. Of course that stallion would have custom headers on his paper. "Sir, unless someone's stolen his stationery, I think this was Rising Star's work."

"Oh I know," he says, bringing all your hopes crashing down. "But Corporate wants a new set of eyes to go over it. Besides, we need this done pronto and he's taking a big potential new client out to dinner with the Branch Manager tonight. You understand, right?"

"Oh. Of course." You swear you can hear a snicker coming from the direction of the water cooler. "But if this is priority, what about my norm—"

"Oh and I still need those weekly expense reports on my desk by the end of the day. I don't want to be here a minute after five."

How can he possibly say that with a straight face? That's the kind of work that needs a team. not one mare! You'll be here for hours! And what about Stormtiger and Bramblepelt? Someone has to feed them or they'll throw a fit and wreck the apartment! Worse if that little hellion next door blocks their cat door with his toys again.

But... that's what you're here for, right? To do the work, get the job done, support the company. Just like you've done for years now. You've given up weekends and evenings to unpaid overtime before, so why this time does it stir such... discontent in your heart?

"Anyway, I have a meeting in a few minutes. You're good to take care of this, right?"

Author's Note:

What Will You Do?

[Use Item: Clock]
[Buckle Down and Do Your Job]
[If you possess the item {Bunny Ears} and are currently wearing them you MUST select this option]