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- >You are jarred from your stupor by a shriek of terror.
- >Delicious, delicious terror.
- >Much more enjoyable if it wasn't coming from a certain white mare in the next room.
- >Before you comprehend what is happening, you are already in her room, throwing scythe at the ready.
- >Rarity is on her bed, clutching a blanket in her hooves (wat), rocking back and forth.
- >You leave your scythe on the floor outside her room, and walk in.
- >She continues rocking and sobbing.
- >You sit down besides her and look at the blankets instead of her.
- >Damn how you wish you didn't have a terrifying visage at this exact moment.
- >Oh well, can't change your appearances, unless you want to die via flower poisoning.
- >She didn't know that interesting fact though. She only knew that you were a human, then when you ran away, you came back as a scarecrow.
- >You didn't lie to her.
- >You did't need to.
- >When you 2 were working on clothier related things, she brought it up to you, and you told her it would be best for her if she dropped the subject.
- >When a six and a half foot tall scarecrow tells you to drop the subject, it's best to drop the subject.
- >She is still sobbing into her blanket.
- >You gently run your burlap hand down her mane
- >You know how soft that purple twirly thing is, but you can't feel anything.
- >The urge to ask her what happened is overpowered by your realization that hearing your scratchy voice would not be the best thing for her psychologically.
- >So you simply sit there and pet her mane.
- >Brushie brushie.
- >She releases the blanket from her vice grip, and relaxes a bit, leaning against your burlap body.
- >”I...” she starts to speak, then stops.
- >You look at her incredulously (not that she would know what your expression is.), and poke her side gently. This elicits a small giggle.
- >”I'm sorry for waking you. I shouldn't ha-” She is interrupted by your finger in front of her lips.
- >You let out a closed mouth smile, and pet her mane again.
- >Well look at how far you have fallen, Fiddlesticks.
- >What do you mean brain?
- >You're becoming weak.
- >Weak?
- >Did I stutter?
- >How is having someone to protect and care for being weak? In fact, I would say this gives me strength to fight off the monster within.
- >You are only going to end up hurt, Fid. And by then you'll be too weak to do anything about it.
- >...
- >I'll let you think about what I said.
- >Rarity has fallen asleep again at this point.
- >Gently letting her off of you, you walk back to your room.
- >You lay back onto the bed, and welcome the stupor with open arms.
- >This has been happening for a week.
- >Pretty routine daytimes. Wake up, help her sew. Walk around the town, nothing special.
- >Then the night comes.
- >That unfortunately has become routine as well.
- >Wake up to her terrified screams, silently comfort her until she falls back to sleep.
- >The dog attack at her home have affected her more than she lets on.
- >It's morning.
- >You hear things sizzling in the kitchen area.
- >Rarity is probably making breakfast for her and Sweetie Belle
- >Damn, you didn't get to taste anything during your time as a human
- >Not true, you tasted your blood when you got stabbed in the chest
- >True. Do all things taste like that, Brain?
- >God, I hope not.
- >You exit the room, grabbing your scythe on the way to the kitchen.
- >To your surprise, it's just Rarity.
- >She is magically holding a spoon, stirring the contents of a pot.
- >”Good morning Fiddle. How are you feeling?” Her eyes betray her smile.
- >You give her a thumbs up.
- >Her expression is a quizzical one.
- >P0nys don't have thumbs, dolt.
- >Right.
- >”I'm fine” You rasp.
- >”That's good, dear. That's... good...” She stares into the void that is the wall in front of the stove.
- >Silence falls.
- >”Uh... Rarity?
- >”Hmm?” She absentmindedly responds, still staring at the wall
- >You need to change subjects, and fast.
- >”What are you making?”
- >”Pudding...”
- >”Pudding?” You cock your head to the right
- >”Yeah. Pudding.” she continues to stir the pot while staring at the wall.
- >”Isn't pudding usually reserved for dessert? Why are you making it for breakfast?”
- >”Because I have lost control of my fears.”
- >Oh shit.
- >Shit shit shit shit.
- >You caused this.
- >You did this to her.
- >You were unable to complete the fear spell, and you left her deepest, darkest fear in the front of her mind.
- >Just out of sight, but always lingering.
- >You know there's only one solution.
- >It's your turn to stare into that void of a wall.
- >Seriously, that wall is getting some major screen time.
- >”Fiddle? Are you alright? You've been standing there for-”
- >”I'm sorry.” you cut her off
- >”Fiddle, we've been over this, you didn't do anything, you just scared me a little.” Her genuine apology only sickens you more.
- >You have to let her know what you really did, but that might mean she would hate you.
- >So the dilemma is set. Do you let her suffer every night, not truly knowing what is going on, but still keep a friend?
- >Or do you make her suffer the worst possible thing she could ever suffer?
- >Ok Fiddlesticks, just like a band-aid
- >Right...
- >What's a band-aid?
- >”Rarity, there's something you need to know.”
- >”What is it, darling?”
- >How you wish she would stop calling you darling.
- >”I know why you fear.” you're trying to sound as non-cryptic as possible.
- >You're failing.
- >”I don't understand...”
- >”That night when I attacked you, you were terrified beyond anything you've experienced before, correct?”
- >She shudders at the memory.
- >”I don't want to do this, but this is the only way you will be free of the nightmares.” you look into her eyes.
- >She is trembling slightly
- >”Wha...what are you going to do?”Her voice is shaking
- >”I am going to finish that spell. It will terrify you tenfold from that night, but I will make sure you recover”
- >”And... this will stop the dreams?”
- >Hopefully. You honestly have no clue if it will.
- >”Yeah, I'm sure it will.”
- >Add that to the list, brain.
- >Add what?
- >This is the first time I've lied to someone.
- >Noted.
- >You lean your head into the creativity room.
- >”Ok, Rarity, are you ready?”
- >”Not really, but can you really be prepared for such an uncouth experience?” she chuckles nervously.
- >”I'm sorry, but it has to be this way,.” you kneel down, and look into her eyes.
- >Those big, pretty blue eyes.
- >You gently caress her mane, and begin your work.
- >You look deep into her eyes, beyond her conscious thoughts, beyond her soul.
- >Her mind is a bright place, clean and organized, very similar to her home.
- >And just like her home, there is a room that is closed off, hidden from the rest of the world.
- >You crack open the door, and look into the room.
- >You see a desk with papers on it, along with photos of some stallion you haven't seen before.
- >Many of the papers say “Defaulted” “Eviction” and “Final Notice”
- >There are also several gems on the table.
- >You bend over the desk and look into it a photograph that lies on the rest..
- >The photo flashes bright, engulfing the room in its light.
- >The room from before is gone, replaced by Rarity's bedroom.
- >On her bed, you see a shivering Rarity, slumped over the form of another p0ny.
- >She is muttering “I couldn't have you tell anyone. No one must know.” over and over.
- >You see the familiar scarlet liquid running down the bed, dripping on the ground.
- >It took you a moment, but you notice the knife in Rarity's grip, and the cut on the p0ny's throat.
- >The liquid begins to vibrate, and your vision is washed in a red light this time.
- >You are now outside.
- >Its raining, and everyp0ny is wearing black
- >There is a p0ny speaking behind a podium, with a black dressed Rarity beside a coffin.
- >Ah, a funeral.
- >Her figure is not as thin as it normally is, and that tight black dress is doing nothing to hide the fact she has put on a few pounds.
- >There is an unnatural darkness emanating from where she is standing, permeating the air and the ground around her.
- >The shadow suddenly expands, clouding your vision in darkness.
- >After a moment, you hear the cry of a young filly.
- >Very young.
- >You turn towards the source of the sound, and see a very tiny Sweetie Belle being cradled by Rarity.
- >”Mommy will always be here for you Sweetie. Daddy can't be here, but Mommy will always be here.”
- >There are tears in her eyes when she says this.
- >Ah, there it is.
- >Rarity was Sweetie's Mommy, this much is true. But Mommy made sure that Daddy couldn't be there too.
- >A product of love wouldn't make her commit an act so dire. She slept with a stallion to pay for her selfish desires.
- >When he threatened to inform everyp0ny of the terrible act she decided to commit, She wooed him into her room, and after a kiss, his throat was slit.
- >You snap back to reality, staring into her eyes still.
- >This mare. You trusted her, and she did this?
- >Is your trust misplaced?
- >She simply looks at you for a moment, unable to tell your reaction.
- >Permanent poker-face and all that.
- >”What did you see, Fiddle?”
- >Does... does she not know what you saw?
- >You didn't bring her projected self to the dream-state, so no, she didn’t know.
- >You look into her eyes for a moment, then lean forward.
- >You speak in a hushed, almost whispering tone into her ear.
- >Her blood runs cold when she hears what you say.
- >A shiver runs down her spine, and her pupils become the size of pinpricks.
- <”Wha... what did you-” she stammers. All pretenses of elegance were gone now.
- >This is a reaction of pure fear. And you didn't say but 4 words to her.
- >”I know your secret.”
- >”H-...How...” Looking at the ground, her eyes begin to water.
- >After a second of staring, her brow furrows.
- >”So you know my secret.” The tears are still there, but her voice is cold and calculated.
- >*nod*
- >”I have done my best to hide it. But all secrets are revealed at some point, I guess.” she looks back up to you.
- >”I guess it isn’t long before my sins are exposed.”
- >You simply continue to stare at her.
- >”I didn't know I was pregnant when I did it.”
- >”But why pose as her sister?”
- >”I don't know how things go where you hail from, but here in Equestria, single mothers are the lowest of the low. The children are treated as less than p0ny.”
- >”What I did was absolutely terrible and unforgivable, but Sweetie belle does not have to suffer for the sins of her mother.”
- >She is looking down again, sobbing.
- >You gently grab her chin, and lift her head up to look at you.
- >”You have shown me you are not a monster. You care about others before yourself. Your secret is safe with me.”
- >She lets out a small smile, one that would warm your heart if you had one.
- >”Thank you, Fid. Thank you.”
- >You get a feeling that tonight the routine is going to be broken.
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