The Nightmare Steed
Content Warning: This text adventure contains themes of horror, psychological distress, and mature content. Each article may include vivid descriptions and elements that could evoke strong emotional responses. And clowns... Reader discretion is advised.
As you follow the path the angel pointed out, the cavern windens. With each step you take, the air becomes thicker dressed in a scent of decay and something faintly metallic. Although the twisted statues from the previous exhibit are no longer visible, you would swear their still watching. Or perhaps you have finally began to be paranoid. In the ends, the path leads to a massive, arched doorway, its surface covered in claw marks and gouges that have left deep scars in the stone.
Beyond the threshold, the dungeons of the grotesque museum ends and you find yourself outside once again. Some meters away, you see what the angel wanted you to find. Inside a fenced perimeter, lies a dirty field, its floor scattered with straw and muck. At the center of it all, bathed in dim, sickly yellow light, stands the Nightmare Steed; a hideous creature. It barely resembles a horse; its once noble form is now mutated beyond recognition.
What was once his majestic coat is now mangled, covered in patches of rough, twisted skin, with grotesque lumps and protrusions forming along its spine and legs. Its mane, once flowing and beautiful, now crackles with dark energy, writhing like black serpents. Long, crooked limbs twitch sporadically, as though even its own nerves have forgotten how to control this once-noble frame. The creature’s eyes glow faintly with an eerie purple light, a faint echo of the life that once resided there. Thick, jagged scars run across its chest and hind legs, and its hooves are cracked and worn from years of torment and servitude to the carnival.
In the corner, you notice a group of figures- other spectators, carnival goers perhaps- laughing cruelly at the creature as they are taking turns to mount the sorrowful beast. Besides its intimidating appearance, the creature does not resist their grabing. It lowers its head and runs around the small fenced space that confines it. It feels almost as if it gave up, like it thinks this way is easier.
As you approach the fence, you see the creature stop its tired galloping. Its glowing eyes snap toward you, as if it recognizes you, and a low, mournful growl escapes its throat. Its pain is palpable; an ancient suffering etched deep within this mutated form.
Suddenly, the angel's voice echoes in your mind
"You need to kill it. Let it rest. This is my only chance at redemption."
But before you can act, or even realize what you've heard, the Nightmare Steed lets out a tortured snarl. A voice, guttural and broken, rasps from its twisted mouth.
“Do you believe her?” the creature hisses. “Look closely... Look at me... see the truth...”
The creatures steps closer to you, ignoring everyone else around; its deformed muscles straining with every move. “Don't listen to her... for your sake.”
The creature’s words slice through your mind, like shards of glass. It continues, its moaning leaving room to doubt take root in your heart. “I am not the beast she claims... she is the one who’s trapped me here. I was the angel. And now... now I am this.”
“NO! It’s lying! The circus' corruption has infected it. Please, you need to trust me! I only want what’s best for us both!”
, the angel recoils at the creature’s words, her face twisted.Now is your turn. You chose this path and it led you here; in this moment. The weight of their voices presses down on you. One is pleading for mercy, the other for freedom. Both claim they suffer, both beg for your help.
You stand between them, torn by doubt. The angel’s plea for peace tugs at your conscience, yet the creature’s sorrowful eyes stir an unsettling truth within you. What if… what if she’s the one keeping this steed imprisoned? What if it’s the angel in disguise?
One thing is certain: one of them is telling the truth, while the other is manipulating you to further the carnival’s wicked plans.
What do you do?
You lower your weapon, your heart heavy with the weight of the choice before you. Despite the angel’s desperate pleas, you refuse to harm the creature standing before you. There is something deeper here, something hidden beneath the surface. You step back, showing compassion for the beast, and in that moment, both the angel and the Nightmare Steed freeze, their reactions locked in shock.
Slowly, the illusions begin to shatter.
The so-called angel’s graceful form begins to twist and warp. What once appeared to be divine wings disintegrate, revealing leathery, bat-like appendages. His face warps, revealing sharp, malevolent features as his true demonic nature is exposed. He screeches in frustration, his eyes glowing with fury as the demon he truly is stands before you.
At the same time, the Nightmare Steed begins to transform as well. The grotesque mutations melt away, revealing the majestic form of a true angel. It is the very same face you saw in the alcove only this time it's real; an angel, hidden beneath the beastly form that was forced upon her. Her wings, once broken and withered, are now whole and radiant, shining with a soft, otherworldly light. The creature that was once a symbol of torment is now restored to its rightful self.
The demon snarls, seething with anger. “Curse you, mortal! Why meddle where you don’t belong?” He spits the words like venom, his frustration almost comical in its fury. “Fine! You can enjoy your fleeting victory. I have other souls to toy with.” With a dramatic flourish, he disappears into the shadows, his curses fading into the distance.
Now, you stand alone with the angel. Her eyes, now clear and full of life, meet yours with gratitude. She steps forward, her wings folding gracefully behind her as she addresses you.
“I knew you wouldn't fail," she says, her voice warm and full of strength. "There is a strength in you, mortal, a kind of strength you don’t even know you possess."
Her gaze softens as she continues. "My name is Moira. Once, I was the guardian of this place, alongside my loyal steed. But then... the Ringmaster came. He claimed our home for his cursed circus; a twisted game to test the strongest of souls. My beloved companion died to save me, but in the end, I wasn’t saved at all."
Moira lowers her head, the pain of her past evident in her voice. "The Ringmaster cut my wings, twisted my form, and placed me here; trapped in a cruel illusion, condemned to die again and again by the hands of those I once swore to protect.
But you… you showed compassion when I had none left. I am sorry for the role I played in this deception. And I am grateful for the mercy you showed me."
Moira steps closer, her wings stretching out, whole and radiant.
"If you make it to the exit, I will be waiting for you. I swear by all that is good, I will repay the debt of your compassion."
With those final words, Moira vanishes, leaving you standing alone in the clearing, the weight of your choice still heavy in the air. But your journey through this mysterious place is far from over. As you walk away, in a distance, you see it. A small arena with an aura that draws you near. You are about to meet
With a single stroke, you deliver the fatal blow against the tortured beast. The creature collapses into the dirt, its twisted form convulsing before finally lying still. For a fleeting moment, the body before you transforms, revealing not the grotesque steed, but an angel; pure, serene, and undeniably dead by your hand. But just as you begin to comprehend the weight of your action, the vision fades. The body begins to warp, its divine shape mutating again into the very creature you just killed. It twists back to life, staggering to its feet. You see a new scar now etched into its body.
The Nightmare Steed's eyes well up with tears, its glowing gaze full of sorrow. It turns its back on you, whispering in a voice thick with regret, “I'm sorry... you failed.”
Before you can process the horror of what you've done, the presence of the angel behind you changes. The warmth and grace that once accompanied her is gone. You turn, and what stands before you now is a demon, twisted and monstrous, his wings now leathery and bat-like, his face contorted in a cruel expression of satisfaction. His laughter echoes in the darkness, sharp and mocking.
"Foolish mortal," he hisses, his voice dripping with malice. "One more soul to our collection… It has become so easy to trap you. Come, your journey through our circus has ended."
With a quick, powerful motion, his clawed hand grabs you by the throat. You struggle, but his grip is unyielding. Dragging you back into the darkness of the museum, he revels in your hollow pleas for mercy.
"Worry not..." he says, his voice low and gleeful. "The Curator is very protective of his possessions. I'm sure your alcove will be spacious enough to spent eternity..."
I trusted the beast.