My name is Arkane Vander.  Now what I'm about to write is rushed, because I don't have time to go into very many details.  

My travels have brought me to a settlement known as Lustercoat.  This community is really bland, and not much happens around here.  It's filled to the brim with common ponies, that you would see in any other city/town in Equestria.  I had come here just so I could rest up before leaving the next morning.  I couldn't wait in a hotel room the entire day, so I decided to go walk around town.  It was then that I met a pony named Zasphas.

Zasphas was a normal looking pony at first glance.  She was a green mare with a messy red mane.  She didn't look very... how do I say this... good looking.  And yet, I still admired her.  She was a very social pony, had a great personality, and had a good reputation.  Zasphas went out everyday and did service for others.  I spoke to her and asked why she did these things, and she replied with, "I just want to help the ponies who can't help themselves."

She and I became very good friends in a short two hours.  We started having a little chat after she told me that.  The entire time, she seemed very gittery and jumpy.  It seemed that she was afraid of something.  

The next morning I woke up, and I found out that Zasphas had died.  I went to her house that morning to tell her good-bye, but her house was surrounded by police tape.  I managed to in her house, just in time to see her body.  Her left front leg was badly mangled, and her face was... gone.  It was just plain gone.  

I later found out that Zasphas was a very paranoid mare.  She had constantly told others that something was chasing her, something wanted her.  I was told by a stallion named Acre.  Jhe told me that Zasphas had constantly talked about this monster that she claimed was chasing her.  He told me that this monster was a strange being, who could deform any body part of yours, just by staring at you.  It could also make you write whatever it wanted you too.  Even if you weren't writing anything at the time, you would suddenly find yourself writing jarbled, mssede up words.  

I had to change my plans, and stay in town until her funeral.  

On the day of the funeral, somepony left me a slip of paper.  I don't know who had given it to me, and nopony else seemed to know who it was from.  I opened the paper, and found this.  

———–

I’m writing this because I need to get something off my chest.

It’s not a matter of “gaining attention.” It’s a matter of just… talking.

Anything to talk. I haven’t talked in so long          .

I can’t remember the exact dates. It’s all like a blur to me. Well, almost all… almost all.

I was sleeping in my bed and I could swear I saw the shadow. It was standing outside that little glass door by my bed. And I could swear I had sleep paralyssis, I read about it, and knew it even though I could move my left arm. I couldn’t         move anything else. It was terrifying, I think.

And that was just the first night.

The second night

I faced from the door

Opposite, like.

And then the knob, it rattled. It rattled so bad. So loud, too. And it was slow at first, real slow. But then it got louder and faster and      I        heard the glass being tapped at and I knew it had happened again but my left arm was pinned under my sleeping body so I couldn’t tell if it was the exact thing or not. But it stopped after a while, maybe because it thought I wasn’t awake like last time, or it got tired of looking at my back. Backs are boring. What a pretty face.

And then there was third night, some weeks later. I’d thought it gave up, that it didn’t see me as fit anymore or something – and I was veryvery glad.

But that night, and I was on my back, and my head turned to the door. I shouldn’t ahve been looking at the doorr. I didn’t meant to. It was my fault all my fault yes.

I heard the coming on teh grass- like soft feet padding through it, then the fallls on the planks of the staircase of the deck, getting closer. And then a body shot to the rail, like a blur, a black blur, and I didn’t see it until it was far too late . I

ts face was pressed againsst the glass, all black, and the grin- you could see white teeth and gums, nothing more, grinning. Long neck attached to the bodyand it had spindly arms and legs that bent the wrong way.                ,               .

And it began to bash it’s ugly face agains t the glass door! The glass was cracking more and more with each bash I want your pretty face and I couldn’t move at all, only my left arm, but it felt like everytime I raised it and bent it its gone it bended in another way and grew out further. It was really not useable at all and I could just lay there as the glass gave in.

And it’s head burst in, but there was no sound of the glass breaking

b

ut I told myself “This is paralysis, it’s a dream, it will disappear” like all the other dreams.

B&$ut iIt’s bLIKEeen so lYOURong siPRETTnce YI talked to aFACEnyone. Please list&*en

———–

After that, I threw the paper away feeling uneasy.

I don’t know what happened to Zasphas. Something tells me that I don’t want to know.

my left arms hu     rts.

Credit: Goaruma