In Their Treehouse At Sweet Apple Acres Cute Fillies Lie Snoring

One fine summer’s day, the three assembled members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders™ (name recently trademarked during their sadly fruitless attempt at becoming “Cutie Mark Crusader Bureaucrats” in a vain attempt to get them to stop) made a decision that would forever leave an impact on their lives.

For on this particular day there had been much discussion over whether “Cutie Mark Crusader Engineers” or “Cutie Mark Crusader Demon Summoners” was a better choice of pursuit for the afternoon. It had eventually been decided that, while the prospect of “Cutie Mark Crusader Siege Engineers” as a potential offshoot was rather tempting, it was too hot a day for that, and carrying out a horrific ritual to summon forth a creature of purest malice from the darkest depths of Tartarus in the nice, cool Apple family cellar was a much more sensible idea.

“Well then!” Apple Bloom exclaimed with an oblivious grin, the clapping of her hooves together quite possibly signalling the death knell for all that she had ever known or loved. “What are we waiting for! Sweetie, what do we need?”

“Give me a second, let me find the right page,” Sweetie Belle replied, never looking up from the ancient, menacing tome she was flipping through. “Let's see – we need a large dark room, red chalk—”

“Ooh, ooh, I have some of that in my colouring box!” Scootaloo piped up from the corner where she was cheerfully ensuring that their guest was completely secured.

“—the horn of a unicorn that has been soaked in the blood of a thousand souls—”

"And I found this in a trash can!" the orange pegasus interrupted again, holding up a blood-red curved horn from which faint wisps of black-and-green smoke emanated.

“—incense candles, rope, liquid phlogiston, essence of the void and the blood of a virgin body.” the white unicorn closed the book with a snap, cutting off the faint moans that had been echoing around the clubhouse for some time. Apple Bloom beamed.

“Aww, this should be a piece of cake! I learned how to make those last two at Twilight Time, and we've got plenty of rope over in the barn.”

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow at her. “Twilight taught you how to make those?”

Apple Bloom shook her head. “Nah – the recipe was in a book on her desk that she said I should ”never touch under any circumstances”. I took a look while she was yelling at Spike about something. It's pretty simple.”

“Ohhhhhh.” her friends chorused, nodding their understanding. Every foal knew that the only course of action when an adult told you not to do something was to do so at the nearest available opportunity. It was the exact way that Sweetie had obtained her book, after all, and how Scootaloo had captured her new friend.

“Well, it looks like we have everything we need!” Sweetie Belle said, giving a smile so blindingly cute that it almost made Diamond Tiara stop her muffled crying in the corner. “Cutie Mark Crusader Demon Summoners YAY!” The three fillies exclaimed, clacking their hooves together in the traditional Cutie Mark Crusader Salute™ (those bureaucrats were desperate) before each departed on their own, deeply important mission.

“I got the rope,” exclaimed Apple Bloom, her cheerful expression rather at odds with the atmosphere in the cellar. The imposing grey walls were unadorned except for various eldritch symbols that seemed to depict acts so terrible as to be impossible to describe with words, enthusiastically copied from Sweetie's book by Scootaloo with her red chalk. The room was lit only by the incense candles that Sweetie Belle had successfully borrowed – it was amazing what Sweetie could convince her sister to do if she brought up those pills under Rarity's mattress.

Sweetie Belle looked up from her book, face brightening. “That’s great Apple Bloom! Now we have everything we need.” She looked over to the other side of the room. “Are you done yet, Scootaloo?”

“Nearly,” came the muffled reply. The pentagram – drawn with the same red chalk – had been carefully marked out on the floor, and Scootaloo was over in the corner, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried to block out Diamond Tiara’s muffled screams. “Just oooone more symbol, aaaand… done!” She stood up and beamed down at her handiwork, the unicorn horn in her mouth slightly redder than it had been before. She looked over at the other two and nodded.

“Great!” said Apple Bloom. “Then let’s get started!

It took a while for the three young fillies to move their struggling classmate to the centre of the pentagram, but after the first three blows to the head she stopped moving so much, and they were able to place her in position. They stepped back and surveyed their preparations.

“Right, everything seems to be in order,” Sweetie Belle said matter-of-factly. “Scootaloo, you prepare the offering.” The young pegasus grabbed a bottle full of a pale, greenish-orange liquid and moved over to the pentagram, “Apple Bloom, get ready to complete the final step.”

Apple Bloom nodded and gingerly picked up the remaining materials.

“And I’ll read the incantation.” Sweetie smiled with the satisfaction of a job well done. “I’m starting to see why Twilight likes lists so much - it’s really enriching to complete one.”

“Dictionary,” a voice muttered from somewhere to her left. The unicorn scowled over at Scootaloo.

“What? It wasn’t me!” she protested. While there had been many bad lies throughout the history of Equestria, when the final judgement rained down upon the land and all turned to ash and sorrow, the lie that Scootaloo had just told came in the top 100. It was pretty terrible.

Rolling her eyes, Sweetie Belle turned to her book and cleared her throat, taking a moment to smile brightly at the shaking, sobbing, bleeding and mutilated filly in front of her. “Now then: Σετ πηασερσ το ηυγ. Ι αμ συπερ ξυτε ανδ αδοραβλε ανδ νο ονε σηουλδ τακε τηισ στορψ σεριουσλψ. Φριενδσηιπ ισ μαγιξ βιτξηεσ, σο γετ ρεαδψ το ταστε τηε ραινβοω μοτηερφυξκερσ.” she intoned, words incomprehensible to the equine mind echoing malevolently across the room. The pentagram glowed with an eerie light, the filly in the centre starting to panic with greater intensity than before. A faint chanting, in the same strange tongue that Sweetie Belle had just spoken, faded into existence, seeming to come from all around and nowhere all at once.

“Okay.” Sweetie paused to take stock of the situation. “Scootaloo, you need to prepare the offering now!” Sweetie Belle called out, looking over at her friend. The orange pegasus nodded and scampered over to the middle of the circle, where she carefully poured the contents of her bottle onto Diamond Tiara’s cowering form. The pink filly immediately began to shriek through her gag, as the liquid fire seared her flesh and the runes carved in her skin caught aflame. Scootaloo flung the empty bottle away with a ‘pthooh’, trotting back over to her friends. “All done!” she chirped.

“Oookay, now I have to read this part, and riiiight as I say the last word, you need to do your part, Apple Bloom,” she said slowly, squinting at the book in the dim candle light. “And once we’ve done that, the—”

It was at this moment that, with unbearable agony coursing through her veins, Diamond Tiara finally managed to gnaw through her gag. The burning liquid had helped, although it had also had the unfortunate side effect of peeling the skin from the inside of her mouth and throat. She spat the rag out along with a not inconsiderable amount of blood, and gasped out a desperate plea.

“Please, stop! I’m sorry I bullied you, I won’t ever do it again just please stop hurting me!” she sobbed, voice rasping in pain.

Scootaloo frowned. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“I Pinkie Promise! I’ll sign a contract, I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt me any more!” she wailed, coughing as her ruined throat protested.

Sweetie Belle sighed, looking at the filly with a regretful expression. “I’m sorry Diamond,” she said regretfully, “but we need a sacrifice, and you’re the pony the search party will stop quickest for.”

Diamond Tiara froze, eyes contracting into pinpricks as her mind processed what Sweetie Belle had just said. “S-sacrifice? What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Oh, we’re going to kill you horribly and serve up your corpse to an Archdemon,” Scootaloo chimed in, eyes blinking innocently.

Diamond Tiara didn’t move.

“Any questions? No? Well then – on with the ritual.” Sweetie Belle stated with a decisive nod.

”You’re completely insane!”

“Ahem. O Markless One! We call upon you—”

”Somebody help me!”

“—from across the endless ocean beyond the stars—”

”Please! Someone, anyone! They’re going to kill me!”

“—to visit upon us thy unknowably powerful presence! Come to us, Lord of—”

”I don’t want to die! Please, not like this, not now! I’m so young!”

“—Destiny, Harbinger of Annoyance! The Crownless King of Unpleasantness, The Dweller in Dimness!”

As Sweetie Belle read out the final lines, Apple Bloom moved over to the wailing earth pony. “Woah there, calm down Diamond.”

She sniffled, looking up at the farm pony with teary eyes. “Please, Apple Bloom. I don’t want to die,” she whimpered in a hoarse voice.

Apple Bloom shrugged. “It’s nothin’ personal you know. We just needed a sacrifice, and you were convenient.” She put a hoof to her chin, frowning and rubbing it thoughtfully as terror filled Diamond Tiara’s face. “Actually, if I’m honest, and AJ says I should always be honest, it kinda is personal. So, uh, sorry.” She shrugged again, and as Diamond began to let out a horrified shriek, unceremoniously stabbed her through the heart with the red horn. The pink filly made a sort of whining gurgle, eyes staring in blank surprise at Apple Bloom.

”We beseech thee, hear our plea and answer!” Sweetie Belle finished with a dramatic flourish, the effect ruined slightly by her voice cracking on the final word. Right on cue, Apple Bloom swiftly uncorked the final bottle and poured the inky black liquid down her dying classmates throat, before quickly jumping back out of the circle.

The liquid seemed to briefly reanimate the dying body, and Diamond Tiara began convulsing, a horrific rattling noise emanating from her lungs. It spread throughout her body, visible only through the inky blackness that pooled behind her eyes, seeming to expand her pupils to an absurd and unsettling degree. Without ceremony, it burst out from them, moving through the air as if it were water, swirling and thickening and slowly winding like smog, but never leaving the confines of the Equestrian National School Stationery Association’s Red Chalk™ (this one not the product of any Cutie Mark Crusader Cutie Mark Quests™) pentagram.

Then, quite suddenly, the smoke receded into Diamond Tiara as if sucked into a funnel.

There was a beat. Nothing happened. The yellow earth pony huffed and stomped her hoof.

“Awww, shoot, I thought this one would work for su—”

Everything exploded.

In an instant, the circle exploded into motion, smoke flooding out and strange shapes flitting through it, only to disappear in the blink of an eye. Garbled noises filtered out into the room, whispers in languages that no pony should ever speak nor hear, and underlying it all, something far greater. A massive wall of sound, the shrieks of a great and terrible choir, the thunder of an organ that played no music that mere mortals could comprehend.

And then everything stopped.

“Err, can we see you mister?” Sweetie Belle piped up, “You’re still a giant cloud of smoke.”

With a sound not unlike that which a black-hole would make if it could exist outside of a vacuum, the smoke receded. In its place was something that was most certainly not a demon. After all, demons did not have quite so many tentacles, nor did they possess the same je ne sais quoi that gave this being its aura of unfathomable age and existence beyond that of mortal understanding. Before it could turn its attention to the three fillies, however, all the (living) occupants of the room were distracted by the distinct thump unique to the sound of a body hitting the floor.

With a terrible deliberateness, the creature lowered something that vaguely resembled an arm and grasped the corpse of Diamond Tiara. The gargantuan monstrosity stared at it for a second – and then with a quick flick of its appendage, tossed it into its mouth (somanyteethstretchingonbeyondeternity) and closed it with a crunch. Blood and body parts sprayed everywhere, coating the walls and ceiling, as well as the coats of the three fillies standing directly in front of the creature.

“Whooooaaaaaa,” said Scootaloo, staring wide eyed through the gore covering her face, as the others made noises of disgust and tried to wipe themselves clean, “Do it again!”

At the same unhurried pace, the thing swallowed, and what was left of Diamond Tiara disappeared forever.

And then it spoke.

F̧͈O̢͕̜R̥̫̙̬͚ ̺͙̟̳̕W̭̰̤H̻̣Á̙͉T̳͙ ͔͞DO̱ ̥͟Y͙͉͙͠O̗Ụ ̨͓S̴̲͉UM̳̼M͖̲̱̠̩̞O̡͖͍͙̫̻̖N͎̠͓̭ ͏̤M̴͔̘̤̳ͅE̘̝̖̳̩͍̭͠,͚̞̹ ͚̝͖͓̲͉̳P̺̙̟̞̲O̵̥ͅN͈̳I̱̩ͅE̹͚S͇.

The sheer absence of its voice hit like a hammer blow – there was something ancient and greater than the will of mortals in it, something beyond comprehension, but above all, something terribly, horribly missing.

“Oh, well, my name’s Sweetie Belle,” the little unicorn squeaked out, beaming. “And these are my best friends, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.” She gestured with her hooves towards her fellow crusaders. “We were trying to summon a demon, but I don’t think it worked.” She pouted at her hooves, before turning her face up to where his eyes probably were, her eyes practically glistening with sincerity. “Y-you wouldn’t happen to be an Archdemon, would you mister?”

I͙̺̺ A̞͟M҉ ̛̗N͞ͅO̝̗̲ ̰̹̖̭͝P̴̲̱͔̥͔̠E̡͎̱̫͉̮̰̠T͇T̟̰Y ̷̰̘̫̻̩̘S̩͈̹̞ͅP͓͎̪̜͕Ḭ̠R̶̤Ì̮̖ͅT̬̹͙,͉̻ ̯͍͝M̺̮̠̯̪̦̝̀O̞̟͝R̳̭̭̝̻̳͞T͚̱Ą͍̫̠L̶̬͔

Ḭ͇̩̦̱͔͢ ̭̝͇̗̰̘͝A̜͙̜̲M ̸̣̦͈C͏U͎̘̬͈T̡H͔̙̩͝Ù̠̝̻͈̩̲̪L̯̜̠Ḫ̱̘̣͓̘͇̀Ụ̲̦̘̯,̟̱̱ ̭͔̙͈̘͕T̛Ḥ̵̝̩̘E̪͍͇̥ ̨M̳̦A̱̣̮̩̺͉̹R͈̹K̸̼͕̹LE͎̻S҉S̻ ͔̹͉̼͖̲͡Ò͍̦̮̞̙͕̹N̘͙͍̣̣E̴̻—̴̟̩̻

“Wait a minute,” Scootaloo interrupted, blissfully unaware of what a dangerous idea this was. “Did you say ”Cute-thool-hoo”? Do you have anything to do with cutie marks?” she asked excitedly, leaning towards the eldritch abomination from before time eagerly.

Cuthulhu, for its part, was rather thrown off guard by this – or at least as thrown off guard as an elder god can be. It was not often that any being dared interrupt it, and it had been preparing to sentence these three to a fate befitting such a crime – but then the orange one had said something he hadn’t expected. Something different.

E̼͍̰̗̙͝r̬͉͎͉̻̹͠r͇͎̗͚͉ͅ,̳̺͈͔͕̕ ̮͙̦̮̼we͔̥͝l͈̲̦l͇̱͕͎͙͜,̪̭̪̱̱̗̰ a̫̠̫͍͢ś̤͔̦ ͕͉a̯͈ ̤͎̜̭̘͔ͅm҉̱̳ͅa̞͇̦̱͜t̹͉͚͉̱te̗͚̻̬r̴͍͎͎̰̻̣̭ ͟o͈̙͠f̢͎̤ f̸͓̙̗̙a̛̺c̥̖͚̳̤t̥̹͓̰ ҉͇̬̝͉I̬̖͉̤͖̠ ̟̩̤̪͟d̸͙̟̼̙o.͎͎̘̲ ̙A̯͕̻c͚̙̹̀t̝̕u̼̖̝ą̩l̙͙̻͕̟l͕͜y͚͖̟͙̣,̞̯͝ ̮I̱̥̪̼̝̳̠ ͔cr҉̬e̲͖͖̗a̼̗̙̗̖t͔̲̭e͙̥̜ḏ ̹͉̣̯̮͍th̜e̪̹̫m̛̖͎̪ ͍̰͇͢–͏͕͇̥ ̳I̯̞͙̳̞̘̯'̵͚̮̝̣͓m̨ ҉̱̲̬pr̳̻͖̭͎̙ͅe̝̜t͕͚̪̹̥̳t̩͈͔̗̝̼͕͘y̺̺̜̱̲͕̼͘ ̣̭̯p̜̳r̻o̫̮͈͎͍̹u̶̦d̮̤̬͖ ̝̩̗̙̹̙o̗f͖͕̼̜̙ ̪̱̀t̞͇̩̱h̹͉̲a̻̳̠̖̩̪͍̕t̢̼͈͓ ͔͕͕̙̺̲t͢o҉͕͚̹ ̙̳̤͔b͖͈̖̥͠e̛̲͈ ͉̦̺͓͚͝h̩̳̯̹̤͟ͅo̗̼͍͍̺̫n̙̬̝e̪̰̞̰s͓͓͔͞ͅt,̼̝̮̝͉̲͓ ̠̹̞͖bu̖t̷͕̼̘͈ ̪̥̦͚̮ ̼̫̙̕W̶̗Ḩ͔ͅA͍̫̮͕̪̣T̶̠̥̖ ͜B͍͈̠̘U̶̦̟̬̩̺̬SI̵̬̗̗̖ͅN̳̝̩͞E̞̙S̨̹̯̞̩̮Ś̼̟͚̭̪͔̗ ͕̖͕̝̦̦I͟S̴̼͇̞ ̻̙̥͔͍IȚ͔͇̲̙̻͔̀ ͕̯͚͖͚̺̻͠O͉͍̺̙͈̫̲͢F̕ ̮̞͉̘͉͢ͅY̠͙͚͠O̞ṶR̴̙̩S̫̭̣̖ ͉M̧̭O̪̖̩͓̘͞R͖T̖̪̩̙̟͡AĻ̙̤̬ I̫̜̰N͕̯̲̥̖S͖͖̳̬̩̜͟E͉͚̘C̵͓̯̻T͚̰̠̣͔̠

“YOU CREATED CUTIE MARKS?”

The famous Cutie Mark Crusader Yell™ was not enough to phase a being older than creation - but it was enough to perturb it.

.̛͉̜.͏͉̘̰̲.͔̹̩͘Y̜̬͙͍̖Ḙ̲̣S̝͎̪͇̳͙?̰̩͓͞

The trio looked at each other, stars dancing in their eyes, before turning back and crowding round the shambling horror.

“That is so coooool.” they chorused, puppy-dog eyes turned on full, that most deadly of weapons in a child’s arsenal.

Having never before been on the receiving end of one of these stares, Cuthulhu was decidedly not immune to the effects – and well, it could be forgiven for slipping on such a momentous occasion.

N̟̣̟-̠̹̰N͇͕͙̟̦͍͜O ͏̤̻͕͕̰O̤̜͈̺ͅN͓̝͇̯̠͔͢E͖͈͈͉̹'̥̗S̮͈̬͕̭ ̩̜̯͟EV̜E̵̟͈̱̭ͅR͎̠̺͇̝̳͈͜ ̢͍̙T̪̹͇̹͚͉̭Ò̙͈͙L̷͕̟D̫̤͓͠ ̬̜̣M̼̖͈É̝̖̞͎ ̻̙̠̩̜̬̝T͏H͕A͔T̗ ̧̞B͇̠̲́E̝̥F̥̼̀O̜̪͙͖͡R̥̹̼͇̹͓͉E̫̞͎̱̱̝̯̕

The Old One sniffled.

Apple Bloom blinked. “Really?”

“But cutie marks are like the coolest thing ever!” Scootaloo chimed in. “And you invented them!”

“Yeah!” added Sweetie Belle, nodding in agreement.

Y̨̜͚̙͙̩̹̖-͖̱̗̱̱͉YO̤̹̪͔̭͈̥U̯͜ ̱̱͔̕G͓͎̬̜̞͙̥U̘̰̝̼͓͙̥Y̻͈̭̭̻̣͡S̴ ͖͡A̼̞̩̤̟͕͓͟R̷̠͚̘E͔̣̭͇͖͚ ͎̖̦̬T̵̙̖̳͚̱̜̩H̠͡E̸͉̫̹͍̻ ̖͉̼B̧E͎͇̞S̟͚̹ͅT̞̲̩̙͇̪

The horror said in a wavering voice that sounded like the deaths of a thousand splendid suns, something that might have vaguely resembled a smile stretching across its facsimile of a face. His tentacles surged forwards to embrace the three fillies, and somewhere across the multiverse, a professor committed suicide as his life's work, a machine to measure the cuteness levels in neighbouring realities, imploded. The only thing that interrupted the heart-warming moment was a rogue bit of Diamond Tiara falling with a plop from the ceiling.

“So, can you give us ours?” Apple Bloom spoke up hopefully after a few minutes of cuddling with the non-euclidean being.

Cuthulhu sighed, a sound not unlike that of a train full of people careening off the edge of Canterlot mountain.

I̵̺'͉͔M̛͔͎ ̞A͍̝͙̫̜ͅF̯̹̮̲̩̱̙R̷̻A̦̞̫I̤̟D ͇N̨̫̭̪͓̠̠̯O͚̝̥̘̙̭ͅṰ ̷͖̮L͔̫I̵̜̪͚͔̬T͖̮̭T̫͍̱̖L̟̺̮̠͜E͉͓̝̟̹ ̴̹͍̤̳̤̭̫O̤̟̯̠͜N̞͍E͞S͔̮̥̱̮͍.̫̝ ̨̳̹̥͔͕̬͍EͅV̟̥̦̠E̷N̪̪ ͉I̺̟̟̥ ͎C̹͖̥̬À̦̗̫̙͍͔ǸN͏̟O̪̤̥͕̹͎̬T͓̺̤̹͕̩́ ̨͎̞͓͓͍̮D̥͟O̦̝̙͖ ̳͙͖̺͞T̀Ḥ̟̤̮A̜̮͉̣T̷̹̘̗.

“Wait,” Sweetie Belle piped up, “Does that mean you don’t have one?”

NO̠̻̙̻͈͡,̵͚̲̩͍̝͖ ́NǪ̱̱̜͚͔̺̗ ̵̭̤̖Ḭ̣͔ ̻̙̗̦̭̪ͅD́O̢͕̫͉̠͈ ҉̖͍̹Ṉ̳͖̟̯̱O͏͉̲̦̫͔̘T

It sighed again and slumped in dejection. It would be many years before philosophers could decide whether this was more or less terrifying than its normal state.

The three young fillies looked at each other, and after a moment of silent discussion gave a nod.

“You can join the Crusaders,” Sweetie Belle announced, placing a regal hoof on its twisted carapace in an attempt to mimic her sister.

.͇̮͓̙͙̠͠.̘̪͉̰.̤̼I͖͖̕ ̹͓̖̥̤̬ͅḐ̺͇̟̬̪͔̣O̖̺ ͝Ń̺̥͔O̵̞͇̗̹Ṭ̯̮́ ͚F̗OL̫̘̪͇̣̱̗̕L̠̹̦͝O̶̗͍̩̠͎W̥̜̲̖̪̘.̹̪͝

“We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and we crusade to get our Cutie Marks!” Apple Bloom explained, beaming up at the face that had brought death to uncountable worlds.

I͚-̝̹̭͓̮̜̤Ḭ̱ ̴̭͇T̰̮̜̪̰͈H͜ͅI̪̘N̫͔͜Ḳ̙͍̳͠ ̬̮̘̲̫I̵̯͚͍'͉̠̪Ḑ L̙I̫͇̲̺K̫̥̬̜̜̹ͅE͎̯͍̬̘ ͚̳͖̹̮͈ͅT̠̤̠͖͚̩H̟̞̺̳̣͖͖A̛̘̻̣̻T̘͈ͅ.̺̲̻̤̦

It said, smiling.

And so it was that the Cutie Mark Crusaders™ made a new friend, and what a friend it was. Even Princess Celestia and her sister turned out for its official initiation into the Crusaders – although it was never confirmed exactly what the yellow liquid trickling down the Royal Sisters thighs during the ceremony was.

Everyone lived happily ever after. Except for Diamond Tiara of course, but no one really cared.

Apart from her father, who was unfortunately eaten by a gru two weeks later.

fin

Author's Note:

My first attempt at dark comedy, and my second piece of writing in the span of a week (what is the world coming to?). I hope you all enjoy it.