The Cats in the Walls

by Not That Anon

The Horror in the Boutique

I stood before the nearly closed doors, menacing as they were, knowing full well that one small step was all that separated me from my destiny. I was reaching for the doorknob when a shiver ran down my spine and caused me to briefly hesitate; earlier today Rarity had warned me not to wander around the Boutique unsupervised. But even my big and currently asleep sister, with all her seemingly boundless wisdom almost rivaling my mother’s, could not stop me from what I was about to do, for there are no forces greater than a mare’s—or filly’s—singular wish to reclaim what is rightfully hers.

In foolishness so grand that it was matched only by my bravery, both of which would soon contribute to the terrible fate that befell me, I pushed the damnable door standing between me and the accursed evil wide open, basking in the feeling of accomplishment that followed. Oh how ridiculous was I acting, like an amateur explorer who celebrates climbing a hill before facing a treacherous mountain with a peak lost in the clouds, I too was about to have my idiotic courage tried by factors beyond ponykind’s control.

But at that moment I brazenly stepped inside, taking a gander at the contents of the room which had previously remained closed for the entirety of my stays at Rarity’s new boutique, ignored the poisonous doubts that were starting to cloud my mind, and looked at perhaps the most vile creature to ever exist in our peaceful land graced by the watchful gaze of Princess Celestia. The antediluvian monster was barely larger in form than a common household cat—a disguise that tricked several other ponies, my sister counted among them—and yet aside from its tendency to hunt and murder innocent creatures for sport it had nothing in common with a regular feline.

Opalescence was the name my sister gave it, oft shortened to ‘Opal’ in a futile attempt to make the hideous creature more sympathetic, but in truth I can hardly think of a less fitting name. Its daemonic eyes bore a horrid tint of sulfur; like a basilisk, one look into them left the pony defenseless and on a brink of madness. When it was awake, its mere presence was enough to warp the light around it, coating it in a fearsome black aura visible only to those who it wished to torment. To this day I know not how Rarity forced this twisted spirit of evil into obedience, or why did she keep it locked in her boutique; for indeed the very notion that my sister could challenge something this wicked was simultaneously too wondrous and too terrifying for me to ever gather the courage to ask her directly. Perhaps Tartatus itself shuddered in fear, spitting Opal outside of its confines, and my sister was the only one who could stop the monster from wrecking unimaginable havoc all over Equestria.

I was about to run, my fortitude vanished in an instant, but due to my damnable ambition I had found myself unable to move back an inch, for the beast was fast asleep and the prize that I so desperately craved was lying on the ground in its shadow. Though I would’ve recognized this doll, the one that my father bought me for my birthday last year, anywhere, heavy drapes were blocking out the sunlight from entering the room, engulfing it in ravenous darkness that made quietly navigating it an impossibility. Maybe Rarity forgot to open the curtains today, or maybe it was Opalescence’s doing, but either way it’s a well-known fact that the latter, as a creature of darkness itself, was rejuvenated by the shadowy atmosphere.

After coming back to my senses I sat down for a spell to consider my options; constantly peeking at the sleeping abomination as if watching it ensured that it wouldn’t wake up to attack me. Against its unnaturally heightened senses a stealthy approach was out of the question, so, blaming myself for not bringing any catnip with me, I decided on a far more daring, if immensely dangerous, plan.

With the element of surprise on my side, I darted into the room, loudly slamming my hooves against the flooring, and charged not towards the precious doll, but at the daemon who stole it from me. As expected, the sudden noise immediately woke up Opal, whose eyes betrayed both their usual unending malice and—to my relief—confusion. The murderous feline puffed up its tail and hissed so foully that even I, who do not speak its tongue, felt shaken to the core by the venomous sound that reverberated in the room. Despite the noise, however, I did not slow down or change my course, which in turn prompted Opalescence to jump back out of my way, deeper into the room.

The first part of my plan, foolish as it was, worked precisely as I imagined it, and by the time that accursed daemon-cat composed itself I found myself only a couple feet away from my destination. Alas, Opal wasn’t much farther away from it, its whole body seething with primordial hatred at being tricked by a mere mortal, rendering any possible direct approach suicidal on my part. I shuddered, my legs instinctively tensing up for a mad dash to the exit. I fought off the overcoming dread that paralyzed my body; I wasn’t about to give up on recovering the wondrous doll that, for the first time since I entered the room, felt almost within my reach. Taking a deep breath, I imagined myself walking out of this situation alive and with my invaluable possession in hoof—the allure of this vision rejuvenated my limbs and restored my shattered spirit.

The monster was now lying close to the ground, waiting with perked up ears and wide open hateful eyes, staying perfectly still save for its tail, now thicker than a pony’s torso, with which it repeatedly hit the ground in a rhythmic fashion, beating a song known only to salt-addled drummers and mariners lost to the deep sea. It was its final threat, dedicated specifically to my person—I knew all too well that were I to make the slightest move in the beast’s direction, its legs would spring with unnatural speed, catching me in a blink of an eye; by then no amount of luck or agility would save me from falling into the predator’s ambush.

We stood there observing each other for a few moments, the feline’s gaze boring deep into my soul. I made my move first; I ran not towards the doll, but in a line perpendicular to both the treasure and its accursed guardian standing in the way. Opal gave chase, its tiny legs carrying it faster than they had any right to. I was overjoyed that my cunning plan had worked, for every step taken by the daemonic cat was taking it farther and farther away from the doll. As my pursuer closed the distance that separated us I rapidly turned and galloped in an arc; by then the monster must have realized the full extent of my plan for somehow it sped up even more, in a futile attempt to once again position itself between me and my goal. I have allowed it to almost succeed and jumped right as its terrifying aura blackened the left edge of my vision, mentally complimenting my cunning, sure as I was of my immediate victory.

What I didn’t, or couldn’t, conceive, was that despite the elaborate plan meant to exhaust Opalescence, the beast managed to gather enough strength to try crossing my path with a desperate leap. As I was soaring through the room, forehooves outstretched, time slowed down to a maddening crawl. When I noticed the pale white object quickly flying past me, I wished I were a pegasus who could flap their wings to alter their trajectory; alas, as a non-winged pony the only thing I could do was watch the disaster happen.

With grace unbefitting something so vile, the death incarnate rotated itself in a single swift motion and unsheathed its claws mid flight; so sharp were they that the very air around the paws was sliced in two with a sharp wheezing sound while their twisted shape ensured that the unlucky prey would suffer as much pain as possible. A sudden realization stripped me of my pride, filling the empty space left behind with great horror—I was the prey and I wasn’t going to make it. It was right then that I saw it, fractions of a second before the impact; the monster raised the corners of its mouth in a loathsome smile.

I did not see what happened afterwards for I closed my eyes in anticipation of the worst. I came back to my senses on the floor, inches from the doll, reminded of my failure by the debilitating pain in my right front leg which took the brunt of the damage. I could feel my life force seeping through the grizzly wound that I dared not even look at, for in doing so I would most certainly faint and never wake up again. Opal was sitting close by, licking its nightmarish claws in a triumphant manner. Once the beast noticed my gaze, it stopped cleaning its paw which bore traces of blood—my blood—and began licking its private parts showing its utter disrespect.

With the desperation of having the success stolen from me at the last possible moment, I let out a bellowing roar that shook the foundations of the Boutique and, more importantly, sent the daemon running away. Feeling the onset of weakness, I called out to Rarity; I suspected it was too late for anypony to help me but she deserved to know my fate. Then, as the world slowly started to fade away, I began to recall the events that culminated with me lying on the floor with no chance of recovery. With these words, I had just finished this task. If only I had listened to Rarity’s warning…

---

“eeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! RARITY!”

Good heavens, did I fall asleep? I’d recognize that squeak everywhere.

“Sweetie Belle? Are you upstairs, dear? I’m coming!”

I rushed upstairs avoiding brown cardboard boxes and empty cans of paint. Truth be told, I was overworking myself lately with the renovation of the Carousel Boutique. Still, that’s not an excuse for leaving Sweetie unsupervised. Celestia, I beg you, please don’t tell me that she was playing with the wood saws again.

I almost ran into Opal outside my soon-to-be inspiration room. The poor cat must’ve been up there with Sweetie Belle. I couldn’t get a good look but she seemed to not be hurt, probably only got scared by the squeak. I barged inside scratching the fresh paint on the door.

“Is everything alright, Sweetie Belle?” I asked in a trembling voice before my eyes adapted to the darkness.

“Ra… Rarity?! That evil, evil cat… It hurts –“ Sweetie Belle nodded at one of her front hooves “– here,” she weakly added.

I took a deep breath, clenched my teeth and looked down. Thankfully it was only a small cut, I don’t know what would I do if Sweetie got seriously hurt because of my carelessness. I levitated a first aid kit from one of the brown boxes and swiftly cut a short length of bandage with my sewing scissors. The non-adhesive side had a picture of a smiling elephant printed on it. Frankly, I don’t know why any elephant would be smiling when Loxodontia got conquered over a decade ago, but I suppose that doesn’t really matter as long as their pictures make fillies and colts happier.

I applied the bandage to the cut. Magically anesthetizing bandages cost a hefty premium but seeing the grimace on poor Sweetie Belle’s face fade away convinced me that they were worth their weight in gold.

“Does it feel better now?” I asked.

Sweetie Belle stood up with an expression of surprise and wonder painted on her face. She said, “It does! How did you do that?! Thank you so much, Rarity!” After taking a few uncertain steps she started bouncing around the room.

“I’m very glad to hear that, but –“ I paused, waiting for Sweetie to calm down and listen. “– do try to avoid getting the wound wet at least until tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, but cuts from a cat’s claw take some time to heal up properly.”

“I will! Thanks again, sis!” Sweetie Belle crossed half the room in three leaps. “Oh no!”

She stopped nearby, her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of some item lying on the ground. It was the doll she got for her birthday. The tiny piece of cloth that was supposed to be the doll’s dress was in tatters, bearing the marks of feline teeth at the tears. At that moment I knew that I had to intervene, or my name isn’t Rarity.

“I’m so sorry. How about we head downstairs and make new clothes for your doll? You can help me design them and pick any fabric you want!” I proposed.

“Even the shiny sparkly golden one?” Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up.

“Why of course!”

“You’re the best big sister a pony could ever have, Rarity!” she said, running to my temporary sewing room in full gallop.

Well, I was planning to use the ‘shiny sparkly golden fabric’ for accents in my newest line but I’m sure a regular, non-shiny and non-sparkly golden fabric will do just fine. And besides, I never made clothes for dolls before. We’ll definitely have fun with it.

Comments

[Zervon Tora]

Demon 1, Sweetie Belle 0. But she did live to fight another day.

[Flora Blossom]

Horror comedy is pretty hard to write but it's decent to me.

[Not That Anon]

11303856
Thanks! I considered leaving either of these two tags out to avoid the non-standard combination but ultimately either Horror or Comedy alone would probably give the wrong first impression.

[SparklingTwilight]

This was pretty funny. Good use of the stylistics, too! Deep thinker Sweetie Belle!

[fanreader999999]

Fun.

[Rune Soldier Dan]

I am a huge fan of Lovecraft's works, and seeing the juxtaposition of very Lovecraft-style storytelling wherein every damnably miniscule crumb of horrendously tempting knowledge, transmitted imperfectly by mere words on a page, is exaggerated and expounded into shuffling cosmic enormity like he's getting paid by the word with the normal-ass writing that came next was a delight.

[Not That Anon]

11338682
Thank you! I'm also a fan of his style and it's a minor tragedy that so few pieces of media – especially in the seemingly endless ocean of pony fanfiction – attempt to recapture that characteristic mood that Lovecraft's works are known for. I'd rather not make any promises yet but in all likelihood I'll give it another shot before long.