The Horror at the Castle

I often wander in the woods at dusk. I'm a bit of a romantic and there's something about the trees and the setting sun when no one else is around that appeals to me.

One evening I happened to wander farther than usual and through the trees I glimpsed a strange sight. There, not more than fifty paces from where I stood, was an impressive structure. To call it a castle is almost an understatement. It was an incongruous array of cylindrical pink towers that seemed to be made of candy and spun sugar. A true fairy princess castle from the outrageous fantasies of a four year old girl. The walls were smooth, curved surfaces that appeared to be bright pink polished marzipan and the conical roofs of the towers were of a fluffy and crystalline lilac substance that could be nothing other than spun sugar. The windows were glazed with a sort of glistening material that must have been pure sugar somehow formed into clear sheets; and the door, which was of wood (the only natural building material visible), stood wide open. Through the windows and the door poured the most inviting light man has ever imagined. An inviting orange-pink light that spoke of comfort, warmth and perpetual bliss. The strangeness of the place filled me with an inexplicable dread or horror so I kept walking past the structure without paying attention to where I was going. I was mindful of nothing except putting distance between me and the strange building and when the sun inevitably set, I had lost my way. I was trying to find which direction to go to reach the town when a storm struck. It was a violent and furious thunder storm, the like of which I had never before seen. The ferocity of the storm was such that anything was preferable to staying outside. By the flashes of lightening I could just barely make out the lilac spun sugar turrets of the castle and I decided that taking refuge in the castle was preferable to trying to find my way home and more than likely becoming more lost. The dread I had felt on first seeing the castle paled in comparison to the dread of staying outside and possibly being killed by the lightening or the wind. I made my way toward the structure and after what seemed an eternity I found myself standing before the pink marzipan walls. Curiosity almost overcame my fear of the storm as I walked through the gaping doorway into the grotesquely bright vestibule; never before had I thought it possible for one room to contain so much pink and gold at once. I was astounded by the gaudiness of the room and could not help but wonder what demented dreams had inspired this horror. The interior of the room exactly matched the exterior of the castle. Bright paintings of flowers, princesses, cute puppies and other pleasant things adorned the gilt wall panels and underfoot the rich pink carpeting was disturbingly comfortable. Opposite the door was a broad staircase that appeared to be constructed from the same marzipan substance as the walls. The elaborately worked balustrades were unsettling in their sheer gaudiness.

The whole place had an air of a habitated building and I could not help but imagine that there were princesses wearing grotesquely pink ball gowns just out of site. As I stood in the vestibule waiting for the storm to clear I was taken by an overwhelming curiosity to see other rooms in the palace.

I cautiously climbed the staircase, afraid of what I would find but too fascinated with the whole matter to hold myself back. At the top of the staircase a hallway stretched as far as I could see on either hand. The decor was the same as that in the vestibule, but with even more pink (if such a travesty of common sense was possible) and the corridor was lined with doors on both sides. As I stood at the top of the staircase almost frozen in awe at the sheer strangeness of the place, I thought I glimpsed something in the hallway to my right. I cannot now say if there was really someone there, but at the time I was certain I'd seen or a figure in a pink gown. I might have only heard something or simply imagined it, but I had already convinced myself the castle was not deserted. Panicking, but as silently as I could, I ran down the left-hand side of the hallway. The corridor seemed to never end and after a full minute of running I stopped, the hallway still had no visible and all the doors looked the same. I could hear nothing aside from the storm still raging outside and I could see no one, but I had the eerie feeling that I'd been followed somehow, or at least that someone unseen was near me. Suddenly, a door on my left opened. I dashed through a door and found myself on a balcony overlooking an unnaturally pleasant field. In what I knew to be the real world a violent storm was raging but this field somehow held a perpetual springtime with cheery sunlight and bright wildflowers.

At that instant I think I screamed aloud, for grazing in that unnaturally calm and peaceful field was a being of undescribable aspect. A grotesque travesty of nature, an overweight pink pony with a rainbow coloured bony protrusion in the centre of it's skull. An abomination that had somehow stepped forth into this plane of existence from a My Little Pony cartoon. Or had I somehow stepped into a different plane than my own?

And that is why, when I have finished hanging myself, I am going to shoot myself and then drown myself. I can no longer bear the thought of that hideous creature or I shall go mad if I have not indeed gone mad already.