> The Thin Man
>  by kirbyzilla
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Book
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The difference in any day would be difficult to tell to one who lived a simple life.  If the events of one day mirror the previous, it’s likely that this is the case for you.  Could you be on the borderline of simple and exciting?  Possibly.  In the case, or life, if you will, of Twilight Sparkle, this is true.  Every ounce of spare time around her house is spent reading.  It doesn’t matter what, nor if she’s read it or not.  Many books may be worn from constant use, or forgotten, and left to gather possibly inches of dust.  
But there are some things that should have been left untouched.  But you may ask, what could be so bad about a book that was once in a library available to all (at some point)?  But the thing is, it wasn’t, and shouldn’t be there.  In fact, the very existence of said book is truly a mistake in itself.  But how could that be?  Well, the threads of fate may yet slowly unravel, and for none other, than Twilight herself.

The neatly aligned books of Twilight’s home, or tree house, covered most of the wall space, as is natural, with it being a library.  In any case, the re-aligning and re-shelving was an almost everyday task for her  “assistant,” Spike, yet met with much resistance every time.  
It was as this process occurred did the book make its presence known.  And to much surprise it did, for in appearance, it was no different than any other old book on the shelves.  Nothing on it made it stand out to any extent, it was simply a brown, leather(ish) bound book.
“You remember what to do, right?” 
“Twilight, I do this every day.  Go through every book in the library, make sure we have tabs for all of them, restack each and every one with the utmost precision, and then sweep.  Honestly, when do you ever need any of this information?  It seems pointless, doing it almost every day and all…”
“I know it’s not fun, but we always have to be prepared.  I’ll tell you what, do it today, and you don’t have to again until next week?  Does that sound fair?”
“Fine…” 
“Good.  I’ll be back at the same time.”
“Got it…”
Twilight walked outside to do whatever it is she did.  Spike never thought to ask what it was, nor did he care.  All he needed to do right now, was to complete the task at hand.  Same tiresome, repetitive routine. 
After doing this for so long, he learned the tricks of the trade when it came to stacking books.  To begin with, he would just throw them off the shelves, and re-organize them later.  Quickly, he found that this wasn’t that efficient.  Now, he would take a few off the shelves at once, and put the left facing side of the book down first.  Now, since twilight made him rotate shelves to make sure he actually did the work, he put the stack down at the next bookshelf.  Then, he would take the books off the shelve parallel to the now empty shelf, and take them out from that one.  Sounding fun yet?
In any case, it is a long process.  He learned the name of about every book on these shelves by heart now, yet on occasion he finds a new book, usually a donation, or something overlooked in the past.
That’s when he sees it.
“Beginner’s guide to basic potion making and/ or alchemy, documented…  Magical Brews and Recipes, documented…  Don’t Forget Me, Colts and Fillies…  Wait, what’s this?”  He flipped through the it, to find that it was a children’s storybook, and a very old one.  The caramel lined pages threatened to tear as he flipped each page, so Spike took caution as he read.  “What would a storybook be doing in today’s potion shelf?  Well, it isn’t documented, so…”  He flipped to the title page, to find two curious things.  It had no mentioned author, and its printing date.  “1475?  This dinosaur belongs in the Canterlot museum, not in here…  Oh well, I’ll leave twilight to deal with it.”
He sat it down in the middle table in the room, and continued on with his work.
“Going, Going, Gone! A Brief history of water.  Ha!  What a classic…”

Hours later, Twilight appeared at the door, and didn’t bother to announce herself until after she walked in.  She heard no response, and assumed that Spike was asleep, as he always was after a day’s work.  She checked the shelves to make sure he had completed the task at hand, and was pleased to see that he did.  Seeing as she had no work to do (did she ever, having Spike to do it first?), she took a book from one of the shelves, and walked towards the table in the middle of the room.  She didn’t even look at the book that she took until she sat down, she didn’t even care.   But something caught her eye before she could enjoy the book before her.  Why did it grab her attention?  She didn’t know.  It was but a simple brown book.  Yet, it had an “aura” to it, if you will.
But it felt out of place.
It had nothing on the spine- no title, no author, no date, nothing to identify itself.  The front was hardly any different.  All it said was, “Don’t Forget Me, Colts and Fillies,” in a faded, almost sinister black lettering.  Just by opening the thing she could tell that it was old.  But looking at the title page confirmed it.
“This is hardly a book that should be here…” She said to herself.
She flipped to the title page.  Thin Man’s Lullaby, it said at the top. 
The title alone sent chills down her spine.  The verses were even worse.

Our days stay numbered as they go by,
Our faces stay shamed, because of our sins,
But we’ll always have a friend,
When we sing this lullaby.
Despite not ever hearing the song before, Twilight Sparkle immediately knew the tune of it, with the utmost precision.
We always stay in fear,
But we have hope, 
For when our time arrives,
Our friend will be here.
The words seemed to have lifted from the pages, and sang themselves, in all its out of tune, off beat horror.
We have no will,
No burden of choice,
Because when he is here,
You will feel the chill.
The words alone had nothing to do with the horror of the situation she was in.   But the book kept singing the same song over and over, and every time she tried to flip to a different page, it was the same words that kept taunting her.  
After several minutes, the music stopped.  She dared to try to open the book for one last time.  It was the title page.  Written at the top: Property of Twilight Sparkle.
The book had claimed its own master.  If she had first thought that this book didn’t belong in her library, she sure as hell did now.  There was no question- this book had to be destroyed.  But as much dread as she had every time she looked at it, she couldn’t bring herself to throw it in the fire…
“No… it can’t be destroyed… maybe Celestia will know about this…”  
This was but one of the million thoughts running through her head at the moment.
All that could be done now is sleep, and hope for the best.  
With unblinking, fearful eyes, she cautiously crept up the stairs, and laid her head down on the bed. 
She must have spent hours simply staring.  At nothing in particular, just staring.  She feared.  She didn’t know what she feared, the feeling had consumed her, and was all she knew at the moment.  And it was because of this unknown fear that caused her not to be able to look out of her window.  It was simply the not knowing, and the potential shock that made it that way.  
And if she had looked, her dread would have multiplied, as a certain figure stood, its head turned towards the window.  Its intentions could not have been identified, as it was faceless, and its form itself was an enigma.  It wasn’t equine- it wasn’t bipedal, it was, there, and nothing more.
	

> The Dream/ The Face
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The only thing Twilight sparkle could see was a face.  A horrible, terrifying face, and the look of it screamed torment.  It wore a grin, from ear to ear, with pearl white teeth.  The face laced several features that made it recognizable as anything other than a nightmare, such as a nose, eyebrows, and any type of mark or smudge.  It had perfectly round eyes, outlined in solid black, with pinpoint like pupils.  
It was tinted a pale yellow, almost the color of decay itself…
The hairline blended with her surroundings, with them both being pure black. 
But the face made no gestures of ill will, it just, stared.  It stared, like a statue, as not a thing on its face moved at all.  It was like a picture, and she couldn’t look away.
She tried to wake up, but she simply couldn’t, for her nightmare wanted her to get a full night’s sleep.
The only thoughts she could conjure were those of fear and absolute dread.  Paranoia, and anger.  Seemingly, it was as if this face was stirring up every bad feeling a sentient being could feel?
It certainly seems that way…

She woke with a start.  Even as she was freed from that horrid image, it was all that she could think of, the only thought in her usual brilliant mind.
Normally, after one had a nightmare, they could easily push it out of their minds, and they could think of the day ahead.  It was also common that they would be tired, maybe because they woke before their horrors could set in completely. 
Neither was the case.
It pieced in her mind that this was also an effect of the song that rang in her head, along with the face.  The two were partners in making her cower, and were doing their jobs very effectively.
But she couldn’t feel sorry for herself right now, there were things to do.  The world won’t stop for her- so she went to carry on her daily tasks.
“Spike, I-I’ll be leaving.  You know what to do,” she said in a rushed voice.
She ran out the door.  Why did she run?  She didn’t know.

There was something off-putting about the crowds of ponies that usually roamed the streets, no, maybe its not them…
She saw a flash of pale yellow. 
Twilight snapped her head to where it traveled to.  No yellow.
She cautiously disregarded it, but still felt a pit in her gut…
In front of her, a pony stared at her, bearing a pearl white grin…
Her head conflicted with itself.  A mind of science wasn’t suited for that of horrors from a children’s lullaby.  But it didn’t take a scientific mind to realize that that wasn’t a story meant for children.
So, she did the smartest thing her mind could tell her to do. Flee, flee from these horrors that shouldn’t be, that should be tabooed, and forgotten.  Who knows? Perhaps they already are, at least to most.
She couldn’t close her eyes, for she will just meet the eyes of another.  And she can’t remain with them open, as she saw its eyes again. 
She couldn’t see Celestia, for the pain of such a divine face, disgraced with another of a grotesque nature, would break her down even more.
She ran to her home, she ran through the door of it, and she locked herself in an unused room, not giving Spike to even ask what the matter was.
He was shocked to say the least. “Twilight, is something the matter?”
“Go, Spike.  I-I’m fine.”  
She was shaking.  Her voice gave it away.
“Obviously not…” Spike replied.  He was suspicious.  It was apparent that he hadn’t pieced together her strange behavior, and the book that appeared yesterday. “Look, I can tell something’s wrong.” 
He was met with silence.  Twilight could not argue.  She could not say anything, for she had nothing to say.  He was right, yet he could not know.  He would shake away such a silly thought, yes?  Because who wants to hear about Twilight’s problems?
Her head was foggy.  She could not think straight.  Every time she thought of one of her friends, or a pony in town, that horrifying face would be the only thing to appear.  No amount of magic could help- if she could concentrate enough to cast any.
Maybe a bit more sleep could help.

Spike was genuinely frightened with Twilight’s recent behavior.  Never had she done anything like this- run in her house a couple minutes after leaving and locking herself in a lightless room- it was downright psychotic.  
Celestia should know…
‘Celestia,

I feel as I should inform you that Twilight has done some questionable things today…’

He stopped writing.
“No… that’s not good at all…”
‘Celestia
I would like to ask for your help, or advice.  Just a few minutes after Twilight left this morning, she ran back in and locked herself in a closet, and denied that anything was wrong.  She hasn’t left since, and it’s worrying me.
~Spike’
He read it over, nodded, and sent it to Celestia.
Several minutes later, he felt his stomach clench, and out came the letter with a puff of green.
All it said was-
‘I will see to this problem as soon as I can.  Report anything else that may be out of the ordinary.’
“Out of the ordinary…” he remembered the book that had appeared the other day.  He wrote a quick note about it and sent it to her.
It only took seconds for him to receive her reply:
“I’m on my way.”

The dream remained the same.  She had only wanted a quick nap… but she couldn’t wake.  It was stupid of her to sleep… she knew that this would happen… but the moments before the pain of horror are so… serene… so relaxing.
The yellowish face had the same grin, the same eyes… but it felt like she hadn’t seen it before.  It said no words, and moved not even once.  But even if it did- what would become of her?  It was, is, only a dream.
But fear is more real than you could know.

> Help/ Attempt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The mental state of Twilight Sparkle deteriorated as each second passes.  Everything she could see is her worst nightmare.  Eyes open, eyes closed, she saw the same thing.  But she still didn't know what it is that she saw.  Every negative emotion ran through her at every waking moment, amplified far greater than it would be for a normal being.  Her fear was consuming her.

Spike had sent his letter to Celestia only minutes prior to her arrival- yet, it seemed like so much more.  It was because of Twilight's fear, that he now fears.  Maybe for a different reason, but it is contagious nonetheless. 
Celestia hadn't knocked, or made any indication that she was coming in, and had the look of utmost haste as she quickly came in the house.  As would be expected.
Celestia spoke before Spike even got a chance. "Where is she?"
Spike pointed a finger at a closet in another room and said, "In there.  She won't tell me anything, she just ran in there, seconds after leaving the house, and made noises that sound like crying... Can you help her?"
Celestia thought for a moment before answering. "I do not know."
This was not an answer spike wanted to hear.
"W-what do you mean?"
"I mean what I say.  I will do everything I can, but I cannot guarantee you anything."
The fear spread even deeper into spike. 
He said nothing after that, as nothing would be appropriate to say at the moment.
Celestia hurried to the door, but with the same grace that she always walked with.  She knocked on the door. "Twilight, it's me, Celestia!  May I come in?"
Twilight panicked.  This was not the voice she wanted to hear.  She did not want to see the face of her teacher, role model, princess to be perverted by the mess of humanity that her brain would interpret it as. "No! Stay out!..."
"I am here to help you, Twilight, I know what you are going through! I want you to be relieved of your fear!"
"I can't... You can't... I don't want to see it!  I want everything to be what it was before, but the face in my head appears all the time, whether my eyes can see, or if it is black as night... I do not want to see you as an evil!"
Her speech now, just after a couple hours of this fear, was becoming more and more vivid, more psychotic.  It was not her, and this should not be her.  
"Twilight, it's spike!  You have to let Celestia help you!  We want you to be normal again to... just let us help!"
"You do not understand... I can't look at any of you!  You will be vile and disgusting!  Along with the face I see in the dark!  You all are him!  Don't be him!"
Celestia closed her eyes and sighed. "This is not the Twilight I know.  This is almost just a... shell of her...  I do not want her to be afraid of us though.  Bring me the book."
Spike nodded, and went to grab the book that is destroying Twilight.  Had destroyed, I mean.  
"I may be able to reverse this spell if I can know what I'm looking for... let me try."  Celestia focused her magical powers into the book, searching for a trace of an indication as to what spell was used on the book.  She dropped it, and put on a panicked look.  "There's not even any trace of magic on this book... She isn't under any spell... it really is all in her head...  Spike, come with me.  Bring the book."
They went back to the closet that twilight was locked in.  
"When I asked Twilight's permission to come it, it was completely courteous.  We both know I can get in with the utmost ease.  But that isn't what I'm going to do.  I know where she is in the room by just hearing her voice, so I will try to search her mind for any bad thoughts, and try to erase them."
Spike nodded again. "Do you think it will work?"
Celestia frowned. "I have no way of knowing..."
So, her horn glowed, and she targeted Twilight from across the door.  It was easy to get this far, but searching her mind was another task in itself.  She was searching for at least a good 20 minutes, but she found something.  But that something wasn't good.  
"Spike... I have bad news..."
"W-what's with that face?  What did you find?"
"There... was no hint of any source of fear inside of her, or at least any she planted within herself.  So whatever this is, it isn't her fault.  From the memories and reactions I found, it pains me to say that this is not psychological.  It is real.  Whatever is plaguing Twilight is from the outside, and is a real creature that can come out from that room at any moment, and put the same fear she has, and put it into you."
Spike froze.  Celestia had done her job.  The fear of knowledge was put into Spike.  It was spreading now.

Fear is a funny thing... Just knowing of one persons fear, can put fear into you, because you think that you may be implanted with the same.  But it is a different fear you have.  You would be... Scared to be scared, if you will.  Scared to know...