Anonymou/x/ in Equestria One-Shot: /x/ Ending number 2

[spoiler]With a lot of alcohols and Beyond Creation[spoiler]Beyond Creation is FUCKING AWESOME GO LISTEN TO IT[/spoiler], I wrote this up.[/spoiler]

>you wake up to Pinkie shaking you
>after shaking the sleep off
>you yelp and jump, scooting backwards onto the bed with frantic and panicked speed
>you’re still in the cottage, in the room where you saw Pinkie and her friends turn to look at you
>the room was lit only by an oil lamp, its faint light casting fluttering shadows where you feel there should be none
>Pinkie is tinged with the brown, quivering light
>her eyes are deep, torn holes
>they seem to be boring into your soul, regardless of how they are devoid of eyes
>she’s bleeding from her mouth and nose, her empty eye sockets are seeping with black ichor
“Hey Noony!  You were sleeping and looked so peaceful but I didn’t want to wake you up, but then there was pancakes and I just had to wake you up because they’re delicious!” she says, her voice a reverberating tone nothing like the Pinkie you knew
>you look around, back against the corner of the room, still kicking at the bed you were on as if trying to get away from the thing that looks like Pinkie regardless of the obstacle behind you
“What’s wrong?  It’s me, your ol’ pal Pinkie” says the “thing”
>you can’t seem to speak, you’re shaking and completely frozen stiff in fear
>the shadows dance around you, silent wisps of light floating across the walls
>the only sound you can hear are the tiny, barely audible hiss of the lamp and your throbbing heartbeat, pounding in your chest, rushing blood through your ears
“Anon?  Are you okay?” she says
>the most unsettling thing is not how completely horrifying the thing that’s trying to imitate Pinkie looks
>it’s how well it’s acting like Pinkie
>every word, every movement of its head is how and what Pinkie would act
>you wail, the cry was long and loud with despair
>rocking back and forth, you try to cover your eyes
“Anon, it’s me, please…  Tell me what’s wrong?  I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you…” says the Pinkie “thing”
>you are frozen, fingers aching with tense effort
>you are currently fighting the undeniable urge to scratch at your eyes
>the sight of your best friend being so…
>the only qualifying adjective you could come up with was “ADSJKJAAHJHKJDGAAARRRGHHH”
>it was even just like Pinkie to be mostly oblivious to your epitome of anguish, your fetal position was ever so shoved against the corner of the room
“See, Twilight and Rainbow Dash are here” says Pinkie, the cold, G Major-key voice coming from your mind
>it seemed to bypass your ears entirely; as if you would be able to hear it clearly from miles away
>as what could have been Twilight and Rainbow Dash enter the room, it seems like your vision sinks into a tunnel, focused on the gaping and shredded holes where their eyes used to be
>the environs shrink and dim into a dark haze
>they get you
>they seem to be a little worried about you, if you could get past their putrid, ichor-dripping orifices
>you are mortified; it’s like you’ve been strapped down with horror
“Why is he like this?  We just left for like two hours to see what the night sky was like…” you hear the thing wearing Rainbow Dash’s skin whisper
>it did try to whisper to the thing that might have been Twilight, but the unholy reverberating inside your head made it clear as day
>it was like the flesh had been finely carved off her and sewn onto another p0ny
>the skin was sagging in a few places, drooping and loose
>you shuddered visibly, you whole body oscillating with disgust and fright
“He doesn’t look too well…  Maybe it was something he ate” says the nightmarish Twilight
>she was only skin and bones, almost devoid of fur
>her mane was but thin patches of dry, pale hair
>Twilight’s hoofsteps sound light and dry
>you could see her ribs and her hip pretty much as well as how you could have seen it on a skeleton
>you suddenly realize that you’re hyperventilating and the demonic, warped p0nies before you are swimming in a sea of monochromatic haze
>the darkness in the room seems to be filled with images
>you look at the shadow behind the thing that should be Twilight and see your hands, impaled by blades that slipped in under your fingernails
>you can only look away
>the grain in the wooden wallboards seem to form shifting shapes as the lamp light pulses
>the shapes are your own fears
>you can see the imagery; a saccade of pictures in the contrast between wood flesh and grain
>you tried to escape the moment, but your eyelids were unresponsive
>your glance slips towards Dash, and he shadow floods your mind with the sounds of your crunching, strained bones being slowly ground against a freezing cold stone
>the sound was coming from your face
>you didn’t feel it; you saw it
>you could see your fingers scratching and scraping against your face, madly twitching
>you didn’t know what do to
>faced with Pinke, Twilight and Rainbow, you could only scratch the skin on your face some more
>as you gouge out your eyes, you hear Pinkie Pie giggling
>her voice rings in your skull over your screams, saying
“Oh Anon, I knew you’d realize that we don’t need eyes where we’re going”
>the shadows swallow you and a slow, seeping madness pervasively burrows its way into your skull
>today was a very, very bad day