Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Hades
Something terrible is going to happen. There is no escape, nothing anybody can do. It’s inevitable. Will we all be killed? Bewitched? Enslaved? Devoured? Maybe Equestria is going to end. Maybe we live our last blissful moments.
The clock strikes midnight and I hear them, clear and strong. They’re coming for us. They’ve never been so close. And everypony around wallows in irresponsible complacency. But I’m sure they know it too. How could they not? They’re simply too afraid to speak up. Or maybe they think it’s only a figment? That I’m gone crazy?
How I wish I could go back in time. Six months ago, when I was still happy. Ignorant, but happy.
Ponyville is a busy town: there’s a lot of bustle during the day. Bustle and noise. But in the evening, when everypony goes home—except when Pinkie throws one of her super-duper-mega-extra-killer parties which, granted, happens quite often—it becomes a quiet village. There’s hardly any sound, barring the occasional hoot of a owl.
That faithful night, I awoke in eery silence. A shaft of moonlight bathed my room in preternatural lambency. I strained my ears, but couldn’t make out anything, not even Spike’s breathing. Until I realised that, fluttering at the threshold of my hearing, there was something. A scratch. Intermittent. Like a shrew gnawing at a seed, far away. You know, shrews and mice are to be expected in a big castle located in the outskirts of a village, so I smiled in the dark, buried my head under my pillow and went back to sleep.
Two weeks later, I awoke to the same feeble, grating noise. It occurred to me that it was slightly stronger than the first time. I should adopt a cat to chase those rodents, I thought. Fluttershy would probably be happy to give me one of her companions. And I resumed my slumber.
A month after, I burned the midnight oil and went to bed frazzled. I was barely tucked under my bedclothes when I heard that same faint rumour. It was definitely audible now. I climbed down, swaddled myself in a spell of silence, and walked the castle in search of the pest which disturbed my sleep. Unsurprisingly, I found that the noise was louder in the basement. I scoured everywhere, but found nothing: the rooms were empty. I stood there, baffled.
That’s when I had that cursed idea: I pressed my ear to the ground. There was no doubt: the sound came from underground. Somepony was digging far below the castle. Diamond dogs? No, they never ventured here. Yet, who else could it be? I went back to bed unsettled, and had a hard time falling asleep.
Thereafter each night I descended into the basement and listened. As the noise increased, I could interpret it better: it sounded as if many shovels and picks were scraping the soil together, irregularly. Sometimes it’d stop for a while, then pick up with renewed strength. It came from an unfathomable distance, way deeper than any diamond dog could ever reach. Whoever was causing it, I had no clue.
Three months ago, I started to hear grunts and syllables over the remote clang. Indistinct, but unmistakable. I was so shaken that I couldn’t sleep at all, and spent the night in the basement with my ear glued to the ground.
The next day, I resolved to tell the princesses about it. Celestia looked at me with a concerned face, and asked if I had experienced some other uncanny perceptions lately. Clearly, she thought I was getting unhinged. So I went to see Luna, mistress of the night, but she dismissed me the same, though I’m sure I read fear in her eyes when I mentioned it. I tried to hint at it with my friends, too, but they ribbed me. So I gave up altogether.
And now every hour they edge nearer to the surface. We sleep over a marching army that digs and crawls. I heard them talking, chortling in their husky voices. They crave for our light, for our world. What do they look like, I can’t tell, even in my wildest dreams.
Giant worms maybe?
I swear I can hear one slithering behind my bedroom door. Looking for me. Transfixed, I behold the handle swivel, ever-so-slightly.
I scream—
What a nightmare! I sit up, drenched in cold lather. Was it just… a dream?
But? Sweet Celestia, what is that fracas in the basement?
The clock strikes midnight and I hear them, clear and strong. They’re coming for us. They’ve never been so close. And everypony around wallows in irresponsible complacency. But I’m sure they know it too. How could they not? They’re simply too afraid to speak up. Or maybe they think it’s only a figment? That I’m gone crazy?
How I wish I could go back in time. Six months ago, when I was still happy. Ignorant, but happy.
Ponyville is a busy town: there’s a lot of bustle during the day. Bustle and noise. But in the evening, when everypony goes home—except when Pinkie throws one of her super-duper-mega-extra-killer parties which, granted, happens quite often—it becomes a quiet village. There’s hardly any sound, barring the occasional hoot of a owl.
That faithful night, I awoke in eery silence. A shaft of moonlight bathed my room in preternatural lambency. I strained my ears, but couldn’t make out anything, not even Spike’s breathing. Until I realised that, fluttering at the threshold of my hearing, there was something. A scratch. Intermittent. Like a shrew gnawing at a seed, far away. You know, shrews and mice are to be expected in a big castle located in the outskirts of a village, so I smiled in the dark, buried my head under my pillow and went back to sleep.
Two weeks later, I awoke to the same feeble, grating noise. It occurred to me that it was slightly stronger than the first time. I should adopt a cat to chase those rodents, I thought. Fluttershy would probably be happy to give me one of her companions. And I resumed my slumber.
A month after, I burned the midnight oil and went to bed frazzled. I was barely tucked under my bedclothes when I heard that same faint rumour. It was definitely audible now. I climbed down, swaddled myself in a spell of silence, and walked the castle in search of the pest which disturbed my sleep. Unsurprisingly, I found that the noise was louder in the basement. I scoured everywhere, but found nothing: the rooms were empty. I stood there, baffled.
That’s when I had that cursed idea: I pressed my ear to the ground. There was no doubt: the sound came from underground. Somepony was digging far below the castle. Diamond dogs? No, they never ventured here. Yet, who else could it be? I went back to bed unsettled, and had a hard time falling asleep.
Thereafter each night I descended into the basement and listened. As the noise increased, I could interpret it better: it sounded as if many shovels and picks were scraping the soil together, irregularly. Sometimes it’d stop for a while, then pick up with renewed strength. It came from an unfathomable distance, way deeper than any diamond dog could ever reach. Whoever was causing it, I had no clue.
Three months ago, I started to hear grunts and syllables over the remote clang. Indistinct, but unmistakable. I was so shaken that I couldn’t sleep at all, and spent the night in the basement with my ear glued to the ground.
The next day, I resolved to tell the princesses about it. Celestia looked at me with a concerned face, and asked if I had experienced some other uncanny perceptions lately. Clearly, she thought I was getting unhinged. So I went to see Luna, mistress of the night, but she dismissed me the same, though I’m sure I read fear in her eyes when I mentioned it. I tried to hint at it with my friends, too, but they ribbed me. So I gave up altogether.
And now every hour they edge nearer to the surface. We sleep over a marching army that digs and crawls. I heard them talking, chortling in their husky voices. They crave for our light, for our world. What do they look like, I can’t tell, even in my wildest dreams.
Giant worms maybe?
I swear I can hear one slithering behind my bedroom door. Looking for me. Transfixed, I behold the handle swivel, ever-so-slightly.
I scream—
What a nightmare! I sit up, drenched in cold lather. Was it just… a dream?
But? Sweet Celestia, what is that fracas in the basement?