After around, maybe... an hour of designing some outfit I wanted to decorate for my new fashion line, something terribly DREADFUL happened. Something very obscure. The front door opened and seemed to have blown against the wall, the volume of the impact severely pounding my eardrums.

“Sweetie, honey, I’m in my design room,” I yelled out of my room. At first I guess the door slamming was just reckless, old Sweetie Belle again, but all I heard were hoovesteps. I knew instantly it wasn’t Sweetie Belle’s hoovesteps, for these were much more thunderous. Disturbingly alert, I listened closely to the hoovesteps. I heard them trotting closer and closer. Then, they seemed to have stopped for a split moment. “Sweetie Belle? Are you there?” I could tell something was definitely amiss, and it could definitely not be any of Sweetie’s friends. I heard a few groans and shrieks that sounded like Sweetie Belle from the room across and I immediately shot into action. I hopped to my hooves and dashed out of my room. Right in front of me the door to the room where the awful screams had come from was wide open, and there sat a taped up, restrained filly.  

“Oh dear... Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” I shrieked. I began to pace back and forth, the tension rising as my stomach churned rocks. I had completely ignored the fact my little, beloved, sister was tied up hostage, and I was too petrified to even think straight. I didn’t know what to do next, since nothing like this had ever happened to me. I could feel my heart beat faster and faster, my stomach in knots, and I ran up to Sweetie Belle. Sweat streamed down my face, I had no experience to deal with a terrible situation like this.

“Nngh! A-a..-AUGH!” Sweetie was breathing too fast and hard, and all I could do is shove my left hoof over her mouth. But when I did that, she wasn’t breathing enough. The tension began to break a stronger sweat and I ran in the kitchen to grab a tissue, napkin, or something to wipe the sweat off. After retrieving the napkin, I noticed sweat wasn’t the only problem. I grabbed a mirror, it seemed to have been cracked at the top. It still was visible, so I focused it on my luscious face. The thing is; My eyes were bloodshot red... as well as the red around my cheeks and the feverish look amongst my mouth. I looked awful.

I think I was about to go insane. Oh, not just about to. I was officially out of my mind. Oh, the stress was just too overwhelming. I had decided this was just a dream. It just had to, nothing this bad ever happens in Ponyville. Maybe if I could manage to wake up, all these horrifying images would fade off forever. I closed my eyes for a minute and blinked twice. Everything was still there, the same bloody, hostage, Sweetie Belle, the napkin drenched in putrid sweat. It was truly gruesome, seeing this happen to such a young filly. Another glimpse in the mirror brought me to tears, looking at the once beautiful Rarity dread into such a mess, once beautiful violet mane in such a hideous twisted and flat shape, a dull lavender-gray, and my tail was a complete stressed disaster. The last thing I saw was Sweetie Belle screech in terror, eyes wider than and owl’s, the words barely leaving her mouth.

“Rarity.. L-Look out!”

I felt vicious talons, claws, a sword, something that makes the gruesome- KA-SHINK! noise against the back of my head. I felt searing, fiery pain. No, this was not a dream at all.