> Whispers in the Dark
>  by Shaslan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Carry Me Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Rarity! Rarity! Where are you? Rarity, please!”





This is not a love story. 





“…Rarity…”

The word was a mere whisper in the darkness, just a hint of a sound. But the hiss of it on the cold night air was enough to make Rarity’s white ear twitch once, and then, slowly, she blinked herself awake. She wriggled upright onto her haunches, and drew the bedsheets close around her. Her breath uncurled slowly in the air before her, the mist of it clearly visible in the moonlight filtering in through the curtain. Stars, but it was cold tonight. Rarity shivered and slipped out of bed, the sheets draped around her shoulders like a cape. 

She crossed to the window; there was frost on the panes, the jagged spiralling patterns of it obscuring the night sky outside into a mere hazy blur. Beyond the ice, Ponyville was all but invisible.

Briskly, she rubbed her forehooves together to warm them. She wouldn’t be able to rest again without a hot water bottle to warm the bed — and maybe a hot drink was in order, too. Some tea maybe. Sweetie Belle would probably want one of each as well. 

Moving with more purpose now, Rarity trotted briskly to her bedroom door and pulled it open. She stepped out into the corridor —

And her cloak of bedsheets pooled forgotten at her hooves as she let it fall, her mouth gaping open in horror. 

Instead of the gently curving passageway that circled the interior of the Carousel Boutique, the enormous hallway that yawned away to either side of Rarity was vast and alien. Thick, dense darkness crowded in from every side, and the cold out here was icy enough to steal the very air from her lungs. 

With a muted gasp of horror, Rarity ducked back inside her room and slammed the door shut. Her heart was pounding a horrible drumbeat in her chest, and her throat was tight with fear. She wanted to scream, but suddenly she was acutely aware of how silent everything was. There were no sounds from the rest of the town, no late night drinking songs or even the distant hoot of an owl. Just endless, endless silence. 

She didn’t dare scream. 

Slowly, shakily, Rarity passed through her room, checking and double checking everything with trembling hooves. Everything was in its rightful place. Her dresses, her hats, her mane brushes and her mirrors. It was all present and correct. Only the ice on the window and the darkness outside hinted that anything was different. 

Rarity walked back to the door and stared at it, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Maybe it was something she had imagined. Maybe if she were to open it again, something would be different. 

Her horn sparked, and the door opened. The black and empty void yawned before her, and then…something else. 

A whisper on the wind, a hiss of static. The noise of a slow and slithering movement in the room behind her. Rarity swung around just in time to see a mass of something dripping off her bed and creeping towards her. And this time, this time she did scream. 





“…Where are you…Rarity…”

Rarity snapped bolt-upright in bed, her heart thudding hard enough to tear itself out of her chest. The air was bitterly cold, and her bedroom was dark and still. 

Breathing shakily, Rarity slid out of bed and went to check the window once more. Ice smothered the view of Ponyville, and only a dim silver light filtered through from outside. Rarity lit her horn to try and slide the window up, but it refused to budge. Frowning, she pressed her hooves against the window sash and heaved, but  it was frozen shut. There was no way to see outside. 

Her heart sinking within her, Rarity turned back to the door. Her stomach performed a series of nervous flip-flops, but she steeled herself and reached out a hoof to turn the knob. The door swung slowly open, with a slow, ominous creak — bizarre, Rarity thought, I oiled it just last week — and the corridor beyond loomed dark and empty. 

Then came a cold breeze — colder even than the frigid air of the bedroom. And on that icy wind rose a whisper. “…Rarity…”

The white mare froze stock-still. That voice — it was almost familiar. Almost. But it was just a little too croaky, a little too hoarse. 

That wasn’t Sweetie Belle’s voice. 

With nervous movements, Rarity peered left and right, into the recesses of the blackened corridor. But the darkness was absolute, and the pale illumination from the bedroom window only spread a few inches into the hallway before it surrendered to the night. 

Cautiously, Rarity stepped out into the hall. She tried to light her horn — the light spell was one of the simplest she knew — but no matter how brightly her horn glowed, the darkness would not recede. Muttering softly with frustration, Rarity poured more of her strength into the spell, taking a few paces more into the empty space beyond the bedroom door. She shut her eyes to concentrate for a moment, and then heard the soft creak of the door behind her. She whirled round, hoof outstretched to catch it, just in time to see the door close, and as soon as the wood met the frame, the two melted into each other. The thin lines of light around the outline of the door faded out of view even as Rarity watched, her mouth agape in horror. Soon there was no suggestion that there had ever been a door at all. 

“R-right,” Rarity said aloud, trying to dispel her own nerves. “That’s perfectly fine. It’s dark, but…but so what? A little dark never hurt anypony.” 

Even as she spoke, another freezing gust of wind swept over her, cold enough to set all the fur on her spine on end. It whistled away down the corridor, and Rarity took a few shaky steps after it before she paused to think. She just needed — to stay calm. Calm and rational. She could think her way out of this if she just kept her head.

This passage was far too large to be familiar, but in the Carousel Boutique, Sweetie Belle’s room was just to the left of Rarity’s. Maybe if she went that way, she would eventually find something. 

Doing her best to swallow her nerves, Rarity set off. 

She walked slowly at first, but the cold bit at the edges of her ears and muzzle, and she soon broke into a brisk trot. Anything to get her circulation going. 

And it was only then that she heard it. Like the whispered name, the voice was scratchy and rough, but this time there were no words at all. Just mutters of static, incoherent and jumbled. The noise was soft and whispery, but it was such a change from the dead silence that Rarity flinched and came to a halt, peering around herself for the source. 

Slowly, the choking static grew louder, and then Rarity heard something creeping across the stone flags of the hall toward her. 

Eyes wide and white, Rarity’s horn flared brighter and brighter as she tried to see what manner of beast it was that hunted her. And when it finally heaved itself into the circle of light, Rarity opened her mouth and began to scream. 





Rarity’s eyes snapped open. 

Trembling, she stumbled out of bed and pressed her nose to the window. Just frost, just frost on the glass. This was…this was unbearable. She had to get out of here. She reached for a drawer from the vanity with her magic, pulled the sturdy wooden object out and scattered its contents across the floor. Lipsticks and eyeshadow palettes clattered noisily across the floor, and Rarity heard something moving outside her door. Breathing. 

“…Rarity…”

Her flanks heaving, Rarity brought the drawer crashing down against the windowpane, again and again. Over and over, even though it didn’t crack, even as she heard the door creaking one behind her. Sobbing, desperate, she smashed the drawer against the window, over and over, and the gigantic shadow of the monster rose higher and higher behind her. 

“…Rarity…”





The corridors were dank and infinite, and Rarity wandered alone for what felt like an eternity. The icy breezes were her only companion, tugging her mane this way and that, chilling her little by little until her teeth chattered and she was all but frozen. 

There was no sign of anypony or any break in the smooth, featureless walls, and the gentle curve of the passage always remained the same. It was like she was walking on the spot. Never making any real progress. 

And always, at the edges of her senses, just out of earshot, that low whispering. Like the fuzz of an untuned radio. 

Desperate to get somewhere, anywhere, Rarity broke into a canter, and then a gallop. Her mane bounced against her neck, keeping rhythm with the brisk tempo of her heartbeat. But the hallway was the same, stones flowing by beneath Rarity’s hooves but nothing ever changing. 

Until she heard it. 

A choking, wheezing noise. Like a cross between a cough and a sob. And then, a word. 

“…Ra…Rarity…”

It couldn’t be — but hope flared in Rarity’s breast. “Sweetie Belle, are you there? Is that you?”

There was a scraping sound behind her, and Rarity whipped her head around just in time to see the dark slime of something creeping away around the corner. Her heart thudding, Rarity walked slowly towards that right angle in the corridor, staring at the black stain on the floor that the…the thing had left behind it. 

It…it was something. A change in this strange and unending labyrinth. 

Rarity only hesitated a moment before she gave chase.





The thing squelched and hissed as it drew closer, and Rarity cringed away from it, pulling the sheets up to her chin, trying to ward it off with that old childhood logic that while monsters might lurk under the bed, they could not come into it. But this monster clearly had not gotten the memo; it scarcely slowed as it flowed up and over the bottom of her bed, crawling inexorably towards her, a black trail of viscous liquid leading back to the door it had come from. 

Rarity whimpered, curling her legs up against her chest to keep away from it, but it just kept coming. 

Vast and dark as a nightmare, it towered over her, hundreds of tiny thrashing tendrils lashing the air around it, thousands of little mouths opening and closing, opening and closing, filling the air with that terrible disjointed whispering. 

And then, as it bent low over her and she crumpled in on herself, sobbing in terror, those mouths all opened together and hissed one word in perfect unison. 

“…Rarity. Rarity.” Then the order broke down, and all the mouths were out of sync, jumbling the syllables over and under one another. “Ra…Rararity-ity-rar-rarityrarityrarityrartityraaaaaaaa….”

And Rarity knew that voice. Those voices. 

Breathing hard, she slowly sat up straight again. And the monster leaned back, giving her the room to move, still hissing its horrible static. 

And leaned back again, almost shying away from Rarity’s shaking hoof as she extended it. “Is…is that you?” 

The monster snarled and muttered with its thousand voices as she spoke, and Rarity knew that she had to say the name. 

“S-Sweetie Belle?”

Instantly, the monster recoiled, all of its tendrils undulating frantically, the mouths opening and shutting, opening and shutting without order, without meaning, the static roaring into a crescendo as the monster fell with a horrible squelch onto the stone floor as it tried to escape from the unicorn. 

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity cried, scrambling after it. “Sweetie Belle, wait!” This thing couldn’t be her sister, it couldn’t — but those voices were hers, twisted and lowered and tortured.

The monster groaned and thrashed on the floor, but Rarity leapt after it, fearless now, more sure with every passing moment what this creature was. She landed atop it, the flesh of the thing hideously soft, and it wailed as she pinned it beneath her. 

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity insisted, merciless. “Sweetie Belle, it’s me. It’s me!” 

The slimy thing undulated and shook, those mouths biting at her legs hard enough to draw blood, then all screaming at the same time, screaming in her little sister’s voice, and Rarity’s eyes narrowed with determination. She spread her hind legs to weigh the beast down, hesitated for half a heartbeat, and then she began to dig. 

With hooves and horn, teeth even, Rarity tore at the monster’s flesh, burrowing into it with relentless fury. She spat mouthful after mouthful of black pulsating flesh aside, and the screams of the beast climbed higher and higher. The noise was earsplitting, and the fangs of the tiny mouths were rending Rarity’s own flesh, but she hardly felt the pain anymore. 

“Sweetie Belle!” she screamed, fighting to make herself heard over the shrieking of the beast. “Sweetie Belle, I’m here! I’m here for you!” 

She threw her head back before plunging her face once more into the roiling black mass. It covered her nose, her eyes, the tendrils pulling at her eyelids, crawling into her nostrils, pulling at her mane like a thousand tiny fingers. But Rarity was strong, she had to be strong. She bit down, though the monster clawed at the inside of he mouth, and she pulled, and ripped, and tore. The lump of flesh came away, still squirming, and then Rarity saw at last a glimpse of what she sought. 

A small flash of white within the turbulent black mass. 

The sight of it gave her fresh strength, and she attacked the monster with new strength, peeling it away piece by piece. A leg emerged first, then a tail. And then great lumps of the creature began to slough away, and Rarity’s work went faster than ever, until finally, with one last great heave, she kicked away the final piece of it, and the treasure was revealed. 

The foal within the monster was very small, and very weak. Her peach-and-lavender curls lay limply across her clammy neck, and she hardly seemed to move at all. Rarity pressed her ear to her sister’s mouth, and could barely even feel her breathing. 

Her eyes overflowing, Rarity gathered Sweetie Belle into her embrace and wrapped her in the sheets from her own bed. “Oh, my little one. I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

At the sound of her voice, the filly finally stirred, and small green eyes finally opened. The voice, when it spoke, was a hoarse and rough whisper. “…Rarity?”

Rarity, her eyes bright with tears, could only nod. “I’m here, Sweetie Belle. I’m here with you.” 





Tears and snot ran thickly down Sweetie Belle’s face, and Rarity found tears pooling in her own eyes too. “I — I hate it here, Rarity,” she sobbed. “I’ve been going round in circles for so long. I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t find anypony. Please — I want to wake up. You have to wake me up, Rarity. You have to.”

“Oh, my darling,” whispered Rarity, holding her baby sister close. “Oh, my precious one.”

“I-its just been so horrible.” 

“I know, baby. I know. I know.” Rarity rocked the sobbing foal back and forth, back and forth, until the sobs subsided into whimpers, then into sniffles, and finally into silence. Sweetie Belle finally lay quiescent against her chest, the fur on her cheeks slicked down with moisture and her eyes swollen with crying. 

Those big green pupils gazed up into Rarity’s own, and the mare’s heart went out to her sister. She had suffered for so long. She had been so confused, and so frightened. Rarity had fought and wrestled with what she should do for so long, but it was finally becoming clear. Rarity had to help her baby sister. The same as she always had. 

“I d-don’t want—” Sweetie Belle started to say, before another rising sob choked off her words. “I’m scared it’ll all happen again if I—”

“—No, Sweetie.” Rarity hushed her sister with a hoof to the lips. “It’s over now, I promise. I’m here. You’re safe now. You can rest.”

Sweetie Belle hiccoughed. “A-and you’ll stay with me?”

“I’ll stay right by your side.” Tears slid silently along Rarity’s jawline, dropping one by one to bury themselves in the curls of Sweetie’s mane. “I won’t let anything go wrong.”

“And y-you’ll wake me up in the morning? For real?”

“I swear I will,” Rarity vowed, muted passion behind every word. “I’ll wake you up from any nightmares.”

“O-okay.” Finally, tearfully, Sweetie Belle acquiesced, and let those heavy, swollen eyelids slip closed. She turned her face towards Rarity’s chest, and slowly, gradually, her breathing deepened. 

Biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, Rarity held her own cries back, and rocked her little sister to sleep. And then, when it was done, and when Sweetie’s breaths came deep and even and calm, the ghost of a little smile floating at one corner of her mouth, Rarity carried her sister to the bed and tucked her in. She smiled weakly down at that soft white form, and smoothed the tangled curls back from the clammy forehead. 

“Goodnight, my darling,” she murmured. “Goodnight.”

Then Rarity’s horn flared into light, the pale blue illumination casting hard and terrible shadows across the room. There was a flash, and Rarity vanished. Sweetie Belle’s bedroom was quiet once more. 





Sucking in a desperate breath as she came back to herself, Rarity reeled backwards, jerking her horn away from Sweetie Belle’s. 

Twilight, who had been dozing by the bed, jerked awake just in time to scramble out of her chair and catch her collapsing friend. “Rarity! Are you okay?”

Panting hard, Rarity crouched on the floor, but she met Twilight’s eyes with a pained look and put a hoof to her lips. “Shhh. She’s sleeping.”

Trying not to glance at the skeletal white form in the bed, Twilight pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’m sorry,” she amended in a whisper. 

Shakily, Rarity regained her hooves and walked back to the bedside. “That’s…that’s quite alright, Twilight. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Twilight hovered behind her like a nervous shadow. “How…how was she? Did the spell work?”

“Yes,” Rarity answered simply. “And I can’t thank you enough for showing me how.”

Reaching out a hesitant hoof to rest on her friend’s shoulder, Twilight’s voice shook a little as she spoke. “What will you do now?”

Rarity’s face might as well have been a mask as she looked down at her little sister, so still and so small in the bed. Sweetie Belle’s expression was finally, mercifully peaceful. “I’m…” Rarity’s voice betrayed her, and she had to begin again. “I’m going to do what Sweetie asked me to. I’m going to wake her up.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and there was a sudden glitter of moisture to them that had not been there a moment before. “Rarity, are you sure that’s—?”

A short, sharp shake of Rarity’s head was enough to silence her. “I’m going to do what I promised Sweetie I would, darling. That’s…that’s all there is to it.”

She raised a hoof to her sister’s face, and stroked it lightly over the downy white fur, trying to ignore the sharp cheekbone, pressed up tight against the papery skin. Then she steeled herself and turned to the wall, where the monitor beeped slow and steady. 

Twilight started forward. “Rarity, wait! Maybe we should—” Then she took in the way Rarity’s head was bowed, the way her shoulders quivered, and stopped short. “I’ll…I’ll wait for you outside,” she whispered, and crept towards the door. 

Rarity hardly saw her go. Her focus was all on the foal lying still in the bed, sleeping peacefully at last. On her hoof and on the button and on the promise she had made. 

“No more nightmares, Sweetie,” she whispered at last. “No more nightmares.”

Tears pouring down her face, Rarity placed a hoof on the switch, and pushed the button.