> The Horror of Croglin Castle > by Mr. Grimm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Awake > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A loud crack sounded off through the dark hall as a stone block was pushed from the wall. The brittle slab snapped into pieces as it landed, sending bits of rotten mortar across the sunken stones of floor. A rustling came from the dark hole that had formed in the wall. Two bright, emerald eyes blazed with rancorous fury as they peered out from the shadows. They were set into a scowling face, the mouth open to reveal clenched teeth. Queen Chrysalis let out a hiss as her forelegs tore through the hole, her porous hooves latching onto the grimy floor. In another moment she heaved her lank form out into the corridor. The changeling grunted in anguish, shaking the long, oily strands of her mane out of her face. Her gnarled horn suddenly lit up the same vivid green as her eyes, spreading her shadow against the wall of grainy stone. Chrysalis shot a poisonous glare up and down the hallway. Dusty cobwebs hung down from the low ceiling. The grayed threads wavered like wraiths, casting eerie shadows about the corridor. A musty odor seemed to emanate from everywhere, smelling of wet plaster and mouldering fungus. The cold, stagnant air clung to Chrysalis’s skin, and its chill gradually worked its way over every inch of her body. The changeling gazed back and forth, working from one end of the hall to the other. Her brow knitted as she scraped a rigid hoof across the sunken, uneven stones of the floor. She had no idea where she was. Chrysalis gritted her teeth as she peered in the gloom, letting out a bitter sigh. Had she not been humiliated enough already? First to be shown up once more by Twilight Sparkle and her friends, now to be lost in her own castle? The changeling glowered in the light of her horn, her sneering features lined with shadows. It was a portrait of indiscriminate hatred. Hatred for everything, her enemies, her failures, even her own subjects. Especially her own subjects. For too long she had put up with their incompetence, and now it had led her into another defeat. Her eyes narrowed, nose wrinkling in disgust and loathing. She’d had it. No more excuses, no more second chances. She had given them everything, worked tirelessly for them, and every time her plans had fallen short because they had failed her. Chrysalis wanted to hurt something. She wanted to crawl back into the room and punish each and every changeling. Maybe kill a few to set an example that she would no longer tolerate their shortcomings. The queen glanced back at the hole, lifting a hoof to take a step toward it. It stopped, coming back into its place. She was too furious to even look upon their sorry, malformed faces. They could rot away in that chamber for all she cared. The changeling needed time to herself. The brooding creature turned away and looked back down the hall, letting out a hiss as her glare left the aperture. The anger in her eyes remained as she peered at the decayed stonework that ran the length of the corridor. The queen snorted as she began trudging over the cold, dirt-strewn floor. The sound of her steady hoof beats echoed throughout the tunnel, breaking the silence that had presided over the hall for hundreds of years. Chrysalis didn’t know where she was going. She hadn’t time to fully explore the fortress after taking it over in the last few weeks. It was just some crumbling, abandoned relic they’d found after a short search for a new base of operations, modified with some illusionary spells she had cast herself. She and her horde had stayed in many derelict ruins before. They could be found all over Equestria, holdovers from the time before the country was unified beneath the princesses. All were broken, rotten, and dilapidated, fueling the queen’s envy of Canterlot. Chrysalis was sick of living in squalor, possessing only ruined fineries and crumbling deathtraps. She deserved better. The queen’s narrowed eyes suddenly widened, and her fretful pace suddenly slowed. The thick, curtain-like veil of cobwebs ahead billowed violently, their tendrils silently thrashing about from the ceiling. In another moment they fell limp, returning to a subtle waver. The changeling stood and stared at the ragged webbing. The light of her horn did not reach past the veil. Everything beyond lay in darkness. Chrysalis dared to take a step forward. Her sickly green aura moved with her, spreading into the mass of cobwebs. The shadows seemed to recede into the cracks in the walls. All except one. The changeling stifled her surprise as she saw the outline of a towering figure from behind the paper-thin curtain of webbing. Her muscles tensed beneath her skin, feeling as cold and numb as the damp air surrounding them. “What…?” The word left her mouth before she knew she had said it. Her jaws remained half open as she gaped at the silhouette. It stood before her a tall, amorphous pillar of a figure, its true shape lost beneath some kind of cloak. It was still as the grave; the only static thing among the fluttering webs. Countless eternities seemed to pass as the queen stared at it, her emotions cycling through surprise, outrage, and confusion. At long last Chrysalis found her voice, and a question escaped from the shocked sneer on her face. “...Who are you?” The figure did not reply. The queen’s eyes narrowed in indignation. Clearly, whatever this thing was, it did not know who she was. If it did, it would’ve answered in a heartbeat. “I am Chrysalis,” she hissed, her discordant voice echoing down the hall, “Queen of the Changelings. Reveal yourself this instant.” The figure stirred, cocking its head to one side. A draft fluttered in from behind it, running through the cobwebs and carrying dust into Chrysalis’s mane. The silhouette began to shift and move as if it were nothing but a shadow. It slowly began to inch forward through the gossamer curtain, its hooves silently padding on the stonework beneath them. Chrysalis remained in her steadfast posture, eyes locked on the stranger as it came into the light of her horn. Shadows still clung to it in the folds and wrinkles of its maroon robe--an ancient rag, the threadbare remains of a royal’s cloak. It was draped over a bony frame, and its tattered edges trailed many feet behind the creature. Chrysalis followed the cascading fabric up to the neck and head that emerged from the top. The queen’s contemptuous sneer began to fade. Its skin was the pallid whitish-gray of a corpse, and almost glowed in the darkness of the tunnel. Wrinkled, blotched, and leathery; dust seemed to flake off from every inch of it, gently floating outwards into the air and disappearing. The face had shriveled and furrowed, clinging tightly to a strange, bulbous skull. Two large, scalloped ears stood erect from the wispy white mane that enshrouded the head like cobwebs. It was then that Chrysalis noticed the eyes. They bulged from cavernous sockets, two enormous glistening orbs of solid crimson. They had no whites, or pupils, or even irises. All the same, the changeling felt them staring into her own. They seemed wholly unreadable; as blank and soulless as a spider’s. “What are you?” the queen demanded, her voice losing its volume but none of it’s venom. Still, the creature did not answer. It merely continued to edge forward on its stiff, skeletal legs and growing more hideous as it crept closer. Chrysalis wanted to snarl and scream at it, blast it into the wall, tear its limbs off, and countless other horrible things. But all of this changed in an instant. Every inch of her was suddenly struck by an emotion that emanated from the creature, washing over her with the force of a storm. It was immensely powerful, stronger than anything she had ever encountered. It was a fierce and voracious passion irresistible to her tastes. A fiery craving from the depth of the creature’s very soul for her. Not a guise she assumed, but for her, Chrysalis, Queen of the Changeling. It was so wonderful that she didn’t even care about the creature’s monstrous appearance. She wanted the love that it so generously gave, and she would have it. The queen’s hateful expression became one of hunger and lust. Her sneer became a sensual smile. The fire in her eyes dimmed to an inviting glow. Her muscles relaxed, and her defensive posture melted away. All the while she greedily fed upon the creature’s feelings as it neared. Chrysalis felt its power becoming hers, filling her with strength she had only dreamed of. A euphoric grin spread across her glowing features. A lightheadedness took her, and she let out a girlish giggle. Countless scenarios played out in her mind, visions of her conquering Equestria, taking her revenge on Twilight, and making Celestia watch. There was no limit to what she could do with her new-found power. Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt a leathery hoof brush the side of her face. The changeling stepped back in surprise, her cheek tingling where it had been touched. Chrysalis looked back ahead into the face of the creature. It gazed back with its lifeless pools of blood red. The changeling’s heart fluttered as she stared into them. Ugly as they were, its eyes were strangely the most alluring thing she’d ever seen. So much that her designs for the future quietly crept out of her mind, and in their place, a tranquil emptiness came to reside. By the time all of them had tucked themselves into the furthest reaches of her brain, Chrysalis was only vaguely aware of the numbness in her legs. She was even less aware when she began to fall. The queen felt the embrace of the creature as it caught her, holding her with its death-shroud clad forelegs. The sudden sensation made her just lucid enough to notice the creature gently push her head back, exposing her neck. She made no resistance. There was no way she could have. Her limbs felt as if they had turned to lead and her horn was steadily losing its glow, allowing the shadows to creep forward. But there was just enough light left for the changeling to see an opening form in the creature’s face. Teeth. Two rows of long, curved, teeth, grayed with age, and completely caked with glistening saliva. The queen’s heart stopped cold. She silently stared at the razor-sharp fangs as their tips grew farther and farther apart, focusing the the two horrible eye-teeth that stood out from the rest. At that moment Chrysalis realized what it was, and why it wanted her so badly. All she could do was gape in muted horror as the creature craned its head forward, bringing its cavernous jaws toward her throat. The stench of putrefied flesh poured out of its mouth as it drew near. The light of her horn faded completely as she felt the points of its teeth pierce her skin.