Post by waxworks on Oct 16, 2019 1:17:50 GMT
"And all they saw when they opened the door was a lonely spatter of mustard."
The waxy-white candlepony let the flashlight's beam fall away from her face as her story concluded, and with a clatter the light shone on the various guests of the House of Wax. They were all staring blankly, a number of them very much wishing they'd just heard the one about the pony with a hook for a hoof again, rather than whatever crawling nightmare Waxworks had just spouted out. Each of them could barely remember what she'd just said, but with a single blink of the eye, the images came galloping back. Sleep wouldn't be much of an option that night for anypony.
"Who else wants to tell one," chittered Waxworks giddily, rolling the flashlight back and forth.
The House of Wax was quite packed for Nightmare Night, with nearly half of Ponyville crammed into the incongruously spacious halls and lobby. Beside Waxy sat her little brother, twice. Cobblestone and Cobblestone, or rather a Changeling named Pin who had taken to mimicking him as a defense mechanism, were leaning against one another and shivering slightly. Besides them sat a young headless pony. Headless aside from the fact that audible teeth chattering could be heard from where one would imagine teeth should be. Blink Missit was an awkward unicorn colt whose specialty in disappearing magic didn't quite work and resulted in vanishing in pieces. He'd been employed gainfully at the House of Wax for the last year, and chased guests around after Waxy gave a schpiel about a misfiring party cannon and a curious young pony.
Near that group sat a few more younger ponies that had gathered close to listen to the stories, some of them with wet manes due to the apple bobbing station. Waxy had made sure some of the apples would try to escape their fates. A number of adult ponies were present as well, some of them keeping an eye on the little ones, most of them trying to keep an eye on Waxworks, especially after last year's centipede parade got "accidentally" diverted through a wedding ceremony.
Behind them on the wall of the lobby was a painting of a pony that seemed to have been painted in such a pose that she seemed to be paying attention to the most recently told story, and rather wishing she hadn't. One of the adults noticed that this painting, labeled "Faint Glory" never seemed to look the same each time he looked at it, but this entire house never looked quite right.
"Uh... I... I have a story," mumbled a little pegasus named Eminent Eighty, who looked slightly scorched in his colorful costume, "well... it's more of a game, a game. We each pick a letter, a letter, of the alphabet, and have to tell a short, a short story with that letter as something, something important."
"I don't know a lot of stories," said a nearby filly named Autumn.
"They don't have to be long, long! No more words than could fit on a single page, single page."
"Oooo," crowed Waxworks eagerly, "I like that! Everypony join in for the alphabet game! Do you want to start, friend?"
Eminent froze slightly due to Waxy's gaze falling on him, but snapped out of it when another pony nudged him. "Oh, ohkay. S... S is for Stairs. Down the stairs, down the stairs, of the old stone building went Lacey Gaze. She trotted down nimbly, nimbly, from floor to floor, to floor. Her airship had landed at the top, the top, and the gala would start soon, so down she went. Above her, she heard somepony coming down, coming down, and she hated that. Always felt she was being chased. Down down, clippity clop, down down, hoofbeats from above. She sped up, clippity cloppity, almost tripped, above her, clippity cloppity. She panicked, she ran, clippity cloppity, down the stairs. Above her, again, clippity cloppity. She reached the bottom and jumped from the stairs, from the stairs, onto the stone floor and trotted off to leave. Then she heard it again, again. Right above her, clippity cloppity. No stairs, but hooves coming dow. She hated that. Felt she was being chased. So down she went, clippity cloppity, her hooves sinking into the stone floor. Clippity cloppity came the noise, clippity cloppity down she went, until the very top of her mane vanished into the stone floor, and the clippity cloppity on the stairs finally stopped, finally stopped."
(Join in! Pick any letter of the alphabet you like, except ine that hasn't been used already! No need to go in order, just make it short and spooky!)
The waxy-white candlepony let the flashlight's beam fall away from her face as her story concluded, and with a clatter the light shone on the various guests of the House of Wax. They were all staring blankly, a number of them very much wishing they'd just heard the one about the pony with a hook for a hoof again, rather than whatever crawling nightmare Waxworks had just spouted out. Each of them could barely remember what she'd just said, but with a single blink of the eye, the images came galloping back. Sleep wouldn't be much of an option that night for anypony.
"Who else wants to tell one," chittered Waxworks giddily, rolling the flashlight back and forth.
The House of Wax was quite packed for Nightmare Night, with nearly half of Ponyville crammed into the incongruously spacious halls and lobby. Beside Waxy sat her little brother, twice. Cobblestone and Cobblestone, or rather a Changeling named Pin who had taken to mimicking him as a defense mechanism, were leaning against one another and shivering slightly. Besides them sat a young headless pony. Headless aside from the fact that audible teeth chattering could be heard from where one would imagine teeth should be. Blink Missit was an awkward unicorn colt whose specialty in disappearing magic didn't quite work and resulted in vanishing in pieces. He'd been employed gainfully at the House of Wax for the last year, and chased guests around after Waxy gave a schpiel about a misfiring party cannon and a curious young pony.
Near that group sat a few more younger ponies that had gathered close to listen to the stories, some of them with wet manes due to the apple bobbing station. Waxy had made sure some of the apples would try to escape their fates. A number of adult ponies were present as well, some of them keeping an eye on the little ones, most of them trying to keep an eye on Waxworks, especially after last year's centipede parade got "accidentally" diverted through a wedding ceremony.
Behind them on the wall of the lobby was a painting of a pony that seemed to have been painted in such a pose that she seemed to be paying attention to the most recently told story, and rather wishing she hadn't. One of the adults noticed that this painting, labeled "Faint Glory" never seemed to look the same each time he looked at it, but this entire house never looked quite right.
"Uh... I... I have a story," mumbled a little pegasus named Eminent Eighty, who looked slightly scorched in his colorful costume, "well... it's more of a game, a game. We each pick a letter, a letter, of the alphabet, and have to tell a short, a short story with that letter as something, something important."
"I don't know a lot of stories," said a nearby filly named Autumn.
"They don't have to be long, long! No more words than could fit on a single page, single page."
"Oooo," crowed Waxworks eagerly, "I like that! Everypony join in for the alphabet game! Do you want to start, friend?"
Eminent froze slightly due to Waxy's gaze falling on him, but snapped out of it when another pony nudged him. "Oh, ohkay. S... S is for Stairs. Down the stairs, down the stairs, of the old stone building went Lacey Gaze. She trotted down nimbly, nimbly, from floor to floor, to floor. Her airship had landed at the top, the top, and the gala would start soon, so down she went. Above her, she heard somepony coming down, coming down, and she hated that. Always felt she was being chased. Down down, clippity clop, down down, hoofbeats from above. She sped up, clippity cloppity, almost tripped, above her, clippity cloppity. She panicked, she ran, clippity cloppity, down the stairs. Above her, again, clippity cloppity. She reached the bottom and jumped from the stairs, from the stairs, onto the stone floor and trotted off to leave. Then she heard it again, again. Right above her, clippity cloppity. No stairs, but hooves coming dow. She hated that. Felt she was being chased. So down she went, clippity cloppity, her hooves sinking into the stone floor. Clippity cloppity came the noise, clippity cloppity down she went, until the very top of her mane vanished into the stone floor, and the clippity cloppity on the stairs finally stopped, finally stopped."
(Join in! Pick any letter of the alphabet you like, except ine that hasn't been used already! No need to go in order, just make it short and spooky!)