The day had gotten dark far too quickly for the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They had planned to have at least three solid hours to find their way out of the Everfree Forest before darkness came, but the Forest had other plans. Two hours before sunset, the three fillies found the sky filling with black clouds, swiftly starting to blot out the sunlight. Apple Bloom had been the first to notice the sudden change.
“Um, girls?” the farm filly said nervously, tugging her cape around her more tightly.
“What is it?” Sweetie asked, turning to her friend.
“Where’d the sun go?” The two of them looked up anxiously, clearly unnerved by the gathering darkness. Scootaloo, however, was unimpressed.
“Come on you two!” she shouted into the growing wind. “Are we going to let a little cloud get in the way of our Crusading?”
“Not just a cloud,” Apple Bloom shouted back, hoof on her bow to keep it from flying away. “Lots of ‘em. Wind an’ rain, too. Scoots, we should head back.”
“Aww, come on you two! It’ll be fun! Maybe we can get our Cutie Marks in forest survival!”
“Or maybe we can live to Crusade another day,” Apple Bloom snapped back. “This storm is goin’ to be a big one. We really need to head back, mah sis will be worrin’ about me.” Scootaloo was about to protest when she was interrupted by a shriek for Sweetie Belle.
“OW!” the unicorn yelled, voice cracking in time with the thunder overhead. She reached a hoof into her mane and pulled out a large hail stone. “Owww,” she whined, rubbing her head and staring pointedly at the orange Pegasus. Scootaloo sighed.
“Fine, OK,” she agreed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “This storm is going to be bad.” She paused, cowering, as flash of lighting filled the air, accompanied by a roll of thunder roared directly overhead. As the noise was reduced to an echo, she raised herself to her hooves. “We should get moving.”
“Ya think?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“Um, girls?” the unicorn spoke up, breaking the argument before it could grow into another storm. Two sets of irritated eyes turned to face her. “Which way did we come from?”
“Ummm. Yeah, Ah got no ider,” Apple Bloom said with a shrug. Scootaloo rolled her eyes at her friends.
“This way,” the Pegasus said. She trotted of confidently, flicking her tail for the others to follow her. They followed, unsure of whether Scootaloo was right or not, but unwilling to stand around in the cold any longer. Wordlessly, they galloped after Scootaloo through the wind, rain and hail.
They ran on, swerving past trees and bushes, nearly tripping over roots and trailing brambles. The three fillies grunted with effort and pain as the hail pelted them mercilessly.
“Scoot,” Apple Bloom panted, “are ya sure ya know where you’re goin’?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I know,” Scootaloo slowed down and looked around. It was a lie and all three of them knew it. “Just around this corner,” she encouraged her tiring friends, trying and failing to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. She rounded another tree at top speed, but the darkness and rain had obscured her view of the cliff just a few meters away. With a shriek of fear, the young filly tumbled down over the edge and fell. She fell down and down, crashing into rock after rock after rock, unable to find a purchase on the steep slope, until she landed at the bottom with a soft thud.
“SCOOTALOO!” Sweetie Belle screamed, looking over the edge at her friend’s unmoving body. When she got no response, she turned to Apple Bloom, seeking comfort. The yellow filly looked at the white one fearfully. “What do we do?” Sweetie asked her voice, already quieted by fear, almost silent in the muffling storm.
“We have to get to her,” Apple Bloom said.
“Shouldn’t we go back and get help?”
“Can we?” came the reply. “Even if we could find our way back, could we find our way here again in time? Scootaloo would freeze to death first!” Apple Bloom shouted, both to be heard over the thunder and out of fear. “We have to get down to her and find shelter.”
“Alright,” Sweetie Belle nodded. “Let’s go.”
By walking along the edge of the cliff, the two fillies managed to find a possible path down. Possible might not work, but it was the best bet they had and they were running out of time. The hail and rain grew harder and colder with every passing moment, the steep trail down became more muddy and slippery. The two Crusaders shared a look and silently started to clamber down. It was a muddy and cold journey, but they knew that they could not stop. About halfway down, a small moan escaped Scootaloo, but the storm was still too loud for her friends to hear it. They continued to clamber down the cliff to a friend that they knew could easily be dead. By the time they reached the level ground, the Pegasus had slipped into unconsciousness again. She lay broken and unmoving as Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom approached her. The unicorn tenderly reached out a hoof and poked the orange lump in front of her.
“Is she…” she whispered, turning to Apple Bloom.
“No,” the farm filly shook her head.
“How can you tell?”
“Ah can’t,” came the honest reply. “But she has to be. She just has ta.” The two stood in the cold, their capes soaked through with rain and mud, unsure of what to do. Another flash of lightning lit up Scootaloo, causing Sweetie to gasp and look away. Scootaloo was lying in a thick puddle of mud, half of her tiny body covered by the brown fluid. The half that was sticking out looked no better; one of her forelegs was bent at such an angle it had to be broken and there was a thin trail of blood seeping from her muzzle. Her unmoving body was covered with cuts and bruises, but worst was the large red stain on her forehead where it was clear that a large rock had collided with her during her fall. Blood oozed slowly from the wound, ever thought it had been over 45 minutes since she had fallen. Sweetie Belle was desperately looking anywhere but at Scootaloo, but Apple Bloom seemed unable to tear her gaze away. Neither of them wanted to speak or move, but the storm was unrelenting.
“We have to get her out of the cold. We need shelter,” said Apple Bloom.
“Is it safe to move her?”
“Ah don’t know. But,” she paused as yet another rumble filled the air, “we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Without waiting for a response, Apple Bloom walked forwards and knelt next to her fallen friend.
“Hey there, Scootaloo. You OK?” Apple Bloom spoke in soothing tones as she inspected her friend for injuries the lightning had not shown. “Sweetie and Ah are goin’ find some shelter for the three of us. Ah just need you to hold on.” Dropping the soft voice, she turned to her conscious friend. “Sweetie, Ah need your help here. Pick her up on the other side, alright?” Mute with fear, the unicorn nodded and bent down. Together, the two of them managed to lift their friend out of the mud. Somehow they succeeded lifting her onto their backs so they both could bear her weight. Exchanging a look, the Crusaders walked forward in step with each other to keep their friend even. The going was harder than ever before as they could no longer fit through the smaller gaps and had to move slower due to the extra weight. But neither of them complained. It would only waste the air they needed just to keep moving. Who was there to complain to anyway? Not that there was a shortage of things to complain about, the wind, rain and hail threatened to freeze the fillies to death, not to mention the darkness of night that was only lit by the occasional flash of electricity from the sky. They had been stumbling along for fifteen minutes when Sweetie Belle fell to her knees, causing her load to slip down into the cold, wet mud. The Pegasus let out another moan as the cold surrounded her already freezing body. With great effort, she wrenched an eye open and saw her two friends.
“Hey, girls,” she whispered. “What’s-” she broke off, coughing up a little blood. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Scootaloo! You’re alive!” Apple Bloom shouted. “Sweetie, look! Sweetie?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I just slipped, that’s all and hey! Scootaloo! You’re awake!” Rolling her eyes, the yellow filly turned back to Scootaloo.
“Can you walk?” she asked, trying to help her friend up.
“Um, I think so-OW!” she shouted as her broken leg crumpled, refusing the weight. She grimaced against the pain for a moment, then offered a sheepish grin. “I guess I’ll just stay off that leg then,” she chuckled weakly. Scootaloo tried to get up again, staying off her leg, but the world started to spin. Desperate to find balance, she tried lifting her wings, but only one would cooperate and she slid to the forest floor again. She lay there, trying to get her limps to cooperate. But as much as she tried, her right wing just hung on her side. It hurt, bad, but the pain was nothing to her broken leg. She grimaced again. “I think I dislocated it,” she said nudging her limp wing with chattering teeth, the cold starting to make itself noticeable over the pain.
“Is it broken?” asked a shivering Apple Bloom.
“No, but I don’t think I can use it.”
“Do you want ta rest it for a bit?”
“No, I really don’t think it would help and we need to find some shelter,” she said, adjusting her cape to cover her dead wing. “We just need to go slow.” The others nodded, slowly helped their friend up and started off again. Scootaloo limped along slowly on her three hooves, using her good wing for balance. Although she was hurt, Scootaloo had the most determination in her eyes, the most confidence in her step. Pushing her dizziness and pain aside, she offered encouragement after encouragement to her friends as they plodded along through the blinding storm. Still, it did not take long for all three of them to reach their limit. Every stump, every rock, every branch seemed determined to trip the three fillies and send them crashing to the cold, wet ground beneath them. Scootaloo fell the most, her injured limbs and head wound hindering her more than the others. All three were ready to just lie down and give up when Apple Bloom spotted salvation.
“Hey, what’s that up ahead?” she asked, her voice weak with exhaustion but containing a tiny amount of hope.
“What? Where?” Sweetie lifted her head up for only a second before letting it fall back down. “I don’t see anything.”
“No, just up there! Ah see somethin’, Ah really do!”
“Hey, yeah. I see it too,” Scootaloo perked up a little as she squinted into the gloom before her. “It looks like… a barn! Let’s get out of this storm!” Despite their exhaustion, all three of them found the energy to pick up the pace ever so slightly. They reached the barn and shoved the large door open, not stopping to think what might be inside, only wanting shelter from the storm. Once inside, the three of them collapsed, panting. A gust of wind blew and the door slammed shut.
“Hold on a sec,” whispered Scootaloo, too tired to raise her voice any louder, “that door was too heavy for the wind to close by itself. Girls, I think we may not be alone in here. Girls?” Fear entered her as Scootaloo got no response other than two sets of steady breathing and three sets of hoofsteps coming closer to her. “No, stay… stay away…” She tried, but the filly was too tired to say anymore to the approaching creatures. She shook her head in protest as one of them touched her hind leg, but could do no more and drifted off to a dark, dreamless sleep.
*************************************************************************************
The world came back to Scootaloo in pieces. First a voice:
“For the last time, how did you find us?!”
Then a terrified shriek:
“We didn’t mean to! Please let us go!”
Then the sound of something thin flying through the air before colliding with what could only be flesh, almost instantly followed by a scream of pain.
Slowly, Scootaloo opened her eyes, trying to make sense of the confusing sounds. Her location would be a good thing to figure out, too. She could not in her warm bed at the orphanage. She was not in the orphanage at all; this place was too cold and damp and she had no blanket to fend away the world. Her cape was gone too and she always kept that within reach. So where was she? Maybe that could be figured out with the help of others. But for that, Scootaloo would need to figure out who had spoken. The second voice had been Sweetie Belle’s, but who was the first? Not Apple Bloom, the voice had no accent and was too old and cold to be the friendly filly. It was too much to think about right after waking up, especially with the pain from last night returning to her leg and pounding head. Confused, tired and hurt, the young Pegasus closed her eyes again and let out a soft moan.
“Hey, sis,” a new voice entered the conversation, a stallion, judging by the deepness of the voice, “I think this one is awake.” The unknown mare sighed.
“Very well, Moss. Put her with the other.”
“Alright, sis.”
“No, Scootaloo, RUN!!” That was Sweetie Belle again. Why would Scootaloo need to run? The dazed filly shook her head in uncertainty but tried to get to her feet anyway. Her broken leg, however, did not agree with getting up and buckled the moment Scootaloo put weight on it. Before she could hit the ground, Scootaloo felt teeth grab her wings gruffly and lift her up. She let out a shriek of pain as the force snapped her wing back in place.
“Hey, that hurt!” she cried. “But thanks for fixing that. Could you put me down now?”
“Nope.” That was another voice. It sounded a lot like the one called Moss, but he was carrying Scootaloo so he could not have spoken. As she was carried, Scootaloo’s eyes grew more adjusted to the dim light in the barn. A few feebly rays of sun wormed their way past the rickety roof, illuminating the dark building. But before Scootaloo could get a good look, she was dropped to the ground next to a warm lump, covered in long cuts and oozing blood.
“Apple Bloom? Are you OK?” Scootaloo asked. Ignoring her pounding head and screaming leg, she inched closer to her friend. Apple Bloom was laying still, her body laced with cuts and bruises, more than she possibly could have gotten running through the Forest. Her nose was bleeding and her left eye blackening. Her cape was missing and only a few feeble strands of her trademarked bow kept her mane tied. She lay semiconscious, clearly in pain. As Scootaloo waited for her friend to respond, she allowed her senses to wander the cold shelter, trying to find the other Crusader. To her left, she heard another shriek of pain that could only come from Sweetie Belle. With a gasp, Scootaloo put it all together. Sweetie’s screams of pain, the cuts on Apple Bloom, the swish of the whip and the flash of the knife. Her friends had and were in the process of being tortured. And it was all her fault. She was the one that had made them wait before heading off, she was the one who had lead them wildly though the Forest, she was the one who had gotten hurt and forced them to slow their pace.
“Sc-Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom moaned softly, pulling her friend from her self-loathing. “You-you’re awake. Tha’s good,” the yellow filly whimpered as she flickered open her good eye. Before Scootaloo could reply, another voice cut in.
“Ah yes. Quite good indeed,” the mysterious mare spoke again. Scootaloo looked up and finally saw the owner of the voice. The dark red Earth Pony mare was slightly taller than most, but painfully thin. Her messy mane and tail were the gray colour of clouds that would soon be stormy but are not quite yet. Her angry eyes bore into Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, shadows dancing in their blue-gray depths. The tip of her left ear had been torn away by some unknown creature and her body was covered in the small scars one gets from roaming the woods for years on end. A stallion stood on either side of her. They both looked slightly smaller than most, but just a thin as the mare between them. At first glance they appeared identical; the both had the same dark pale green coat and black hooves, the same short, darker green mane and tail. The same pale yellow hateful eyes. The mare turned to the one on her left and spoke.
“Leaf, get the other and put her here. I want to talk to them. All of them.”
“Right away, sis,” the stallion said before trotting off. He returned moments later with a bloody Sweetie Belle, her body laced with cuts just as Apple Bloom’s was. He placed her next to Scootaloo and went back to stand next to his sister.
“Good, good,” said the red mare. Her tone suggested this was a party about to get started, but her face spoke of pain about to fall upon the fillies in front of her. She smiled, displaying a row of rotten, yellowish teeth. “Good,” she said once more. “All three of you are awake. I was starting to worry that you might never wake up, dear,” she stared at Scootaloo as she seethed her silky tones. “But now you are so we can get started.
“My name is Scarlet Night. These are my younger brothers, Leaf Mold and Dark Moss.” As she spoke, the red mare nodded first to the stallion on her left then her right. Scootaloo searched for a difference between them and finally spotted one. Moss, the stallion on her left and Scarlet’s right, had freckles on his muzzle. Scootaloo opened her mouth to speak, but Scarlet beat her to it. “Have you ever heard of us?” she demanded all too sweetly.
“No.” Scootaloo’s wary voice was alone; her two friends only shook their heads, muted by fear and pain. Faced with an immediate threat, the Pegasus could feel her self-hatred turning to defiance.
“I think you’re lying. You see, nopony comes here unless they are looking for us.”
“Why would anypony be looking for you?” She meant to ask with only curiosity in her voice, but it sounded like an accusation to Scarlet.
“I will get to that,” she snapped. More calmly, the red mare continued. “But this is rather rude of you. You know who we are, yet we do not know your names. Tell us, what do they call you?” The three fillies did not reply, Apple Bloom and Sweetie out of fear, the third out of defiance. Scarlet’s irritation was visible only in her eyes as she spoke to Sweetie. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“How do you know?!” the unicorn gasped. Despite her fear, Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.
“She doesn’t, Sweetie Belle. She was just asking what your name is.”
“Didn’t,” the mare corrected with a grin. “And I believe the orange one called you ‘Apple Bloom,’ am I correct? Which brings us to you, my dear. What was your name?” The mare’s eyes bore deeply into Scootaloo, who refused to speak. Scarlet sighed.
“Very well, I know your name. Asking is merely a formality, isn’t that right, Scootaloo?”
“How’d you know my name?” demanded the filly.
“Your friend Apple Bloom told me when you woke up,” Scarlet said plainly. She took a step closer to her captives, flicking her tail at her brothers as she did so. Wordlessly, they walked to the door to the old barn and stood, silently guarding the only exit. The red mare stopped right in front of Apple Bloom and spoke her name slowly, drawing out each syllable for all it was worth. “Apple Bloom.”
“Y-yeah?” the filly chocked out.
“Apple Bloom,” Scarlet repeated more quickly. Not taking her eyes of her prey, she continued to talk quickly, firing facts at the fearful filly. “Part of the Apple Clan, are you? Related to the Orange family of Manehatten, yes? And your name, it seems slightly fimilar…” the mare trailed off, pretending to be lost in thought while her brothers stood silently at the door. “Ah yes. I believe I heard it said by another young filly. Let’s see, she was a blank flank from Manehatten, a member of the Apple Clan, specifically in the Orange branch. Green eyes, orange coat a little darker than Scootaloo’s over here, short pink and red mane. Claimed that an “Apple Bloom” was her favorite cousin. She didn’t tell me that, of course. I heard her talking to somepony else, but that is another story. What was her name again? Babs S-something. Babs Stupid? No, Babs Smelly? No, not that. Babs S-”
“Babs Seed!” Apple Bloom shouted, her anger overriding her fear. “Her name is Babs Seed!”
“No, little one.” Scarlet spoke with the tone that was too soft, too sweet, yet not enough to hide the malice behind it. “Not ‘is.’ ‘Was’.”
“What’d’ya mean, ‘was?’”
“I mean she’s dead. I mean that I killed her.”
“NO! You’re lyin’! Mah cousin aint dead!”
“Well, yes she is.” The mare let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the physiological pain she was inflicting. “I killed her. I killed her slowly and I listened to her scream and cry. She cried and cried, just like you are now.” The filly was indeed crying. Tears running down her face in twin rivers, Apple Bloom flinched away with each soft word spoken to her.
“I didn’t want to kill her, truly. But her parents refused to pay the ransom. I believe their exact words were ‘That blank flank isn’t worth two bits! She is no child of ours.’ Yes, that was what they said. It was a shame, really, that I had to dispose of her. Such spunk, such flair! She could have been a great ally for me and my brothers. But she refused my generous offer.” Scarlet sighed.
“No, no! You’re wrong, you’re wrong!” Apple Bloom curled herself into a ball on the floor, covering her ears with her hoofs as she tried fruitlessly to block out the words being spoken to her.
“No, I’m not. And I don’t feel like ruining my spot here in this lovely Forest by wagering for a few measly bits. So here’s the deal; either you three work for me, or all of you will be joining Babs whatever very shortly,” Scarlet grinned. “What do you say? Go ahead, talk it over, take your time.”
“What do we do? What do we do?” Sweetie Belle whispered as the three of them huddled together nervously.
“We can’t agree! If mah sis ever finds out, she’ll kill me!” Apple Bloom shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. “But if we don’t, Scarlet will! Ah just don’t know what ta do.”
“I do,” Scootaloo whispered. She leaned closer, pulling her two friends into a tighter circle. “Do either of you remember Cutie Mark Crusaders Circus Ponies?” Sweetie Bello nodded, but looked confused.
“Yeah,” said Apple Bloom slowly, “but Ah don’t see how that can help us now.”
“Trust me. You take Moss. Sweetie, take Leaf down. I’ll get Scarlet. Just be ready for my signal.”
“What will that be?” Sweetie squeaked, her voice cracking loudly.
“Me shouting ‘now.’”
“Ah.”
“Have you made a decision yet?” Scarlet broke in impatiently. “If you take too long, I might rethink my offer.” Instantly, Scootaloo stood up, wincing as her broken leg took weight. The other Crusaders followed suit and stood fearfully behind her.
“Yes, we have decided,” Scootaloo said. She took a deep breath. “Ready?” she asked, gaining nods from her friends.
“Ready for wha-”
“NOW!” Scootaloo screamed over Scarlet. Instantly, the three fillies leapt into action. It had been months since their failed attempt at circus-ing, but it had been even more memorable than most of their crusades. At Scootaloo’s shout, Apple Bloom and Sweetie linked hooves and pulled back, allowing their friend to use them as a catapult. Once the unicorn and Earth Pony had launched the Pegasus at the mare, Apple Bloom crouched into a ball, ready to roll at Moss. Sweetie Belle leapt in the air and bucked her legs against Apple Bloom, sending the yellow filling to roll in the opposite direction and causing her to fly at her target. Apple Bloom rolled under Moss’s belly and kicked up as hard as she could, winding the stallion as Sweetie grabbed Leaf’s head and flipped him over with her violent momentum. Once he was down, she jumped onto his stomach, winding him just as Apple Bloom winded his brother.
While these little fights were exciting, the main battle between Scootaloo and Scarlet Night was horrific. Scootaloo had planned to use the force from the make-shift cannon that was her friends to fly over Scarlet. The mare was just too powerful to take on without further injuring herself and Scootaloo only needed to escape. She flapped her wings franticly as she tried to clear the living hurtle, but the red mare reached up and snatched the filly from the air by her bad wing. Scootaloo let out a shriek of agony as her wing was once again torn form its socket. Blood started to leak from Scarlet’s mouth as she bit through the flesh of her prey. The pain grew as Scootaloo was dropped to the ground, the cold stone crashing first into her broken leg, then her injured head. She whimpered, ready to just give up, to fall into the pain and never return. Scarlet smelled victory, unaware of her brothers’ defeat, and moved in for the kill.
So this is it, Scootaloo thought to herself as the mare slowly approached her, savoring the victory. This is how and where I die. I hope Apple Bloom and Sweetie will be OK without me. The filly closed her eyes, focusing what she thought would be her final thoughts on her friends. Then she remembered; her friends were there with her and they needed her help. I have to help my friends, she told herself. I got them into this mess, I will get them out.
With renewed vigor, Scootaloo scrambled to her hooves, shoving as much pain as she could to the back of her mind, ignoring the rest. Her leg threatened to crumble, the barn tried to spin and her wing hung uselessly at her side again, but Scootaloo was going to save her friends. Scarlet grinned, clearly pleased with the challenge Scootaloo had just become. She drew her weight back as the filly tried to find her balance, getting ready to strike. Before she could strike, the feeble sunlight went out with a clap of thunder. The sudden darkness froze all the ponies in the barn, the only sound the echoing noise of the growing storm. Then there was the sound of scrambling hooves and a hushed “let’s go!” as Scootaloo found the door and pushed it open. Outside held only a little more light, but it was enough for the three fillies to find their escape. Scootaloo waited for her friends to get into the forest before she followed. As she turned to leave, the rain started to fall and another flash of lightning filled the air.
As the light cast her silhouette, Scootaloo reared up on her hind legs to leap into her run. As she stood on two legs with her one good wing flared us beside her, Scarlet stared at her. Rage, unlike anything she had ever felt before, filled her. How dare this weak foal escape her! She had captured or killed all, from the youngest pheasant to Prince Blueblood himself! None had gotten away from her and none ever would. She pulled her lips back in a snarl and vowed to herself that the filly would die. Her friends would be dealt with too, but the Pegasus would die, no matter what. Then the light faded and the moment passed, taking the troublesome filly with it.
“After them!” Scarlet shrieked to her brothers, still unaware of their defeat. Without waiting, she charged into the storm after her prey, ignoring the pounding rain and hail, knowing that her brothers would follow her. Family only went as far as protection from others, if they failed her they would pay just as any other would. Perhaps not quite as harshly, but they knew that if she even hurt them half as much as she hurt some, they would be unable to stand for weeks. Slowing, painfully, the stallions dragged themselves to their feet. Once outside, they shared a nod and split up, one on each side of the broken trail bashed by their sister. This was their way; they were the stealth, the shadows that stalked. Their sister would kill and maim and torture, but Moss and Leaf were the ones who could track down almost anypony in almost any terrain, be it snow, mountains, cities, plains, forests or anything else one could think of. But forests had always been the easiest for them, as their identical coats and manes could blend in with the dark scenery almost perfectly, making it all too easy to sneak around, unnoticed. Silently, they melted into the shadows and began to hunt.
As her brothers silently slipped through the undergrowth, Scarlet crashed her way past every obstacle that presented itself before her. Subtlety was lost on her; the only thing on her mind was the thought of capturing Scootaloo and killing her as slowly as possible. She ran, fueled by anger and almost unstoppable. No brambles would trip her, no bush could block her path, no thorns could hurt her, even as they tore past her fur and into her skin, drawing blood. Her brothers would know to get the other fillies. They had better, for their own sakes. But they were not important. All that mattered was that Scootaloo had made a fool of Scarlet and that cannot happen.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders ran as hard as they could, aware that they would be chased, but blissfully ignorant to how much bloodlust filled their pursuer. They galloped harder than they ever had, but three fillies outrunning three full grown Earth Ponies was a challenging task, at best. Throw in the growing storm and ‘challenging’ grows to terrifying, throw in the fact that the pursuers know the land and ‘terrifying’ turns into almost impossible. Throw in the injuries from the torture and ‘almost impossible’ falls to hoping against hope against hope against hope. That still leaves a chance, but not a very good one. Throw in a broken leg, dislocated wing and probable concussion and there is one filly who is almost guaranteed to not make it.
Still, Scootaloo tried to run past the pain. It is possible to run on a broken leg, just not very well, nor very fast. Despite her best efforts to stay upright, she kept falling, her one good wing clearly not enough to help her keep her balance. The pain and hard bump to the head combined to make the forest spin and the broken leg made it even harder to weave around the bushes that seemed to appear from nowhere.
“Scootaloo! Come’on!” Apple Bloom panted desperately to her fallen friend. “We have ta keep moving!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry!” Ignoring her pain as best she could, Scootaloo pulled herself to her three good legs, shaking her tears from her eyes. There was neither time nor breath to say anything more, so they ran on after Sweetie Belle.
But the path was still torturous, slick with fresh mud and growing streams fed by the cold rain. Another quick turn around a tree and Scootaloo slipped again, her hind hoof caught in the brambles that littered the ground. Her momentum carried her past where her leg could go, twisting her hoof around. The Pegasus let out a shriek of pain as the muscles and ligaments in her ankle tore. She tried to stand, but two of her legs now refused to take weight, both on the same side. Not that it mattered; they had reached a dead end. The small clearing they stood in was thickly surrounded by trees in every spot but two. One of the ways was the small gap they had just come through, the other a cliff. Unlike the one Scootaloo had fallen off the day before this one went straight down, too far down to live if they fell.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Sweetie whimpered in fear. “We’re trapped. We’re dead. We’re-”
“No, we’re not, be quiet!” Scootaloo hissed from where she lay. “You can climb down the cliff, I think I can see a path. Go, before they find us!”
“But, Scoots, there’s no way you can climb down!” Sweetie pointed out. Scootaloo closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I know,” she said simply.
“No! We ain’t leavin’ you!”
“Yes you are, Apple Bloom! Both of you. You have to, I will only slow you down. I can’t run, I can’t climb and I’m not letting you die because of me!”
“But, Scootaloo, what about the Cutie Mark Crusaders?” Sweetie asked, her voice high with fear.
“You can’t get a mark if you’re dead,” Scootaloo reasoned. “Now go. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
“Is there any way we can change your mind?” the yellow filly asked in a final effort. Scootaloo shook her head.
“No. I’m sorry. But you have to go, now!” Scootaloo looked her friends in the eye, begging them to flee. Apple Bloom held her gaze for a full minute, then nodded.
“Good luck, Scootaloo.”
“Bye, Scoots.”
There were no more words to be said and no time for a last group hug; Scarlet was fast approaching, noisily crashing through the trees in her rage. Wordlessly, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle turned to the cliff’s edge, searching for a path. Apple Bloom saw one and pointed silently. As the two of them started to climb down, the third Crusader used all her willpower to pull herself to her hooves. Ignoring the pain, she raised her head high and faced the entrance to the clearing, trying to ignore the fresh, emotional pain of saying goodbye to her only two friends, forever. Forcing herself not to cry, she stood proudly and waited. She did not have to wait long.
The red mare emerged from the path, her face livid. She cast one quick glance around the clearing, but saw only one filly. Wordlessly, she scanned the area again, slower, making sure that Scootaloo was the only one before her. Pleased, she turned her attention back to Scootaloo and spoke.
“Your friends can’t hide.”
“They won’t need to.”
“Oh? And what makes you say that? Do you think you can stop me?” The mare threw her head back and laughed at the thought. “Please,” she scoffed. “Once I set my eyes on getting somepony, I get them. I always do. First you, then I will go after your pathetic little friends.”
“You won’t.”
“Yes, I will,” Scarlet said smoothly. “And I will kill them.”
“You won’t,” Scootaloo said again, her voice simple.
“Even if I don’t, my brothers will. They wouldn’t dare disappoint me.”
“They won’t, either. My friends are safe.” Scootaloo spoke with a slight confusion. She was stating a fact that could not be denied, yet the mare before her remained ignorant. “Nothing will hurt them.” The mare let out a soft chuckle.
“What makes you so sure about that?” Scarlet asked, deciding to toy with the filly before the real pain began. “How do you know that my brothers have not already found them?”
“I- I just know.” But Scootaloo’s confidence was faltering. She didn’t know, that was the problem. They’re OK, she told herself, desperately. They are. Almost as if to prove her point, there was the sound of falling rocks from behind the orange filly, followed by an ironically loud shh! Scootaloo smiled. “That’s how,” she said.
“They’re climbing down the cliff then, are they?” Scarlet asked unnecessarily. “Too bad that’s where my brothers are.” Scarlet paused to arrogantly flip her gray mane onto her shoulder. “It’s a shame, really. I would love to finish them off myself, but you are a much bigger prize.” Raising her voice, Scarlet shouted over the wind, “Kill them, brothers! The moment you can reach them, kill them! Climb up and push them off it you have too!”
“She’s lyin’ Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom’s voice drifted back. “They ain’t down there! Don’ listen to ‘er!”
“Your brothers aren’t down there and you are up here. Nothing is going to hurt my friends,” Scootaloo said once more.
“How do you know that I won’t kill you then go find them?” Scarlet questioned, trying to regain the high ground.
“You won’t have time. You want to take as long as you can to kill me; you want me to suffer.” Scarlet Night jerked back as if she had been slapped. Am I truly that see through? she asked herself. Never mind that. Just kill her now if you have to. It seems that knowing that her friends are about it die is pain enough for her. Scarlet paused for a moment, wondering what it would be like to have a pony die for her. She had never known love growing up; her parents had abandoned her and her brothers in the woods at a very young age and had not been heard from since. She had had to turn to crime just to survive and had ruled her siblings with an iron hoof to keep them alive. But she shook the thought away. It did not matter. All that did was the infuriating filly in front of her.
“Ah, but what would be more pain for you, dying slowly or knowing that you could not save your friends? Do not lie to me, I can see the truth in your eyes. I don’t want to kill you, Scootaloo. I want to break you.” Scootaloo shook her head, crouching back in fear. NO! she berated herself. You have to be brave. Brave, like Rainbow Dash! What would Rainbow Dash do at a time like this? Scootaloo raised herself a little taller. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t cringe in fear. She wouldn’t back down. She would save her friends. No matter what. And so will I.
“I will save my friends. No matter what,” Scootaloo repeated out loud. She raised herself as high as she could and stared Scarlet Night directly in the eyes. “No. Matter. What,” she said once more.
It was then, that moment when Scootaloo realized that she would save her friends no matter what, that moment when she allowed reality to leave so she could let her friends live, that Scootaloo knew what she always wanted to do. It was that moment, as she stood with her one good wing flared against the wind and her chin held high in defiance, it was that moment that Scootaloo’s flank started to glow. The yellow light cut through the gloom, distracted the filly. Forgetting the danger she was in, she turned to her flank, eager for her long-awaited cutie mark. She took her gaze off of Scarlet for less than a second, but that was all the time the violent mare needed.
With a scream of rage, she lunged forward, throwing her whole weight into the filly. But she hit her foe with too much force; the momentum carried both of them over the cliff. They fell for less than three seconds, but as Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle watched, it took hours.
They fell, mare and filly, tumbling over and over, screaming in rage and fear. Scootaloo hit the ground first, her body taking the whole force of the impact, snapping her spine in several places and killing her instantly. Scarlet landed on the filly, and crumpled to the ground where she lay, unmoving.
Silently, the two fillies started at their friend from the cliff. The dead Pegasus lay perfectly still, her eyes glazed over but still alight with joy, her slacking jaw still holding the triumphant grin of a final dream come true. But as the light faded from Scootaloo’s flank, Sweetie let out a small cry.
The glow vanished, leaving nothing but blank, orange fur.
Her cutie mark had started to form, but Scootaloo had died before it had enough time to fully form. So close to having a cutie mark, yet she had died without one.
She would always be a blank flank.