You are Pinkie Pie. You are about seven to twelve summers old, you never really kept super strict count of that. You spot a creepy house just outside your farmland and decide to have a little peek. -- Readers make the shots, this is a CYOA type story
You are Pinkie Pie. You are about seven to twelve summers old, you never really kept super strict count of that. You spot a creepy house just outside your farmland and decide to have a little peek.
Readers make the shots, this is a CYOA type story.
You are Pinkie Pie. Yes, I know you might not be Pinkie Pie, but let's pretend, or this story can't happen. Pinkie needs your help, so let's put that aside and focus on her. I mean you. You are her. Get it?
You've worked through the day, moving rocks where they'll grow best. Not that rocks grow, not like trees, but they do. Your family understands this and you know just where to put each little pebble to make things work. Worn, but in a good way, you wipe off your brow and have a look around.
Hey, what's that? You see something new. It's an old house. That's not especially new, old houses happen. But this one is close to your farmland, and you're positive it wasn't there before, so what gives?
You give a shout out for the rest of your family, but no one replies. They must be doing chores or something else boring. Ever since you learned the meaning of the word 'fun', you've lost some of your old patience for not-fun. What else could you do?! Time to explore! That house wasn't going to explain itself, or is it?
You pronk up to the big iron gate that surround it and reach out, tapping at it with a hoof. The left side of the actual gate just falls right inwards, barely hanging on to its hinge as it makes a loud squealing noise at the movement.
"Hello?" you call out. If someone's home, you don't want to be rude about it. Still, who would just go and move in between morning and evening like that?! Weird!
Nopony replied.
Now, if you were most anypony else, you might turn around and go home, and maybe you should. But that would be a very short story so we'll just assume we don't make that decision, er, I mean you. You don't make that decision. Please? Okay!
So you creep up on your little hoofsies to have a better look at this big scary house. The steps are made of stone, and that's actually kind of comforting. Stone you know. Sadly, a lot of the house is made of severe-looking wood too. Wood and stone and iron. Lots of iron, like a completely unreasonable amount of pointy iron bits that you would never put in any house you were making. Not that you are making a house.
Where were we? Oh yeah, you're in front of that house. The sun's going down and it's getting dark. You reconsider a moment just to be startled by a bang. The gate is closed and looks all secure and locked despite how it looked before.
You run back there and give it a good shaking, but it's just as solid as it looks. You're stuck. Well, darn. Guess you'll have to find another way out...
You do a slow circle and see there's the front door, and what looks like creepy stairs going down to a basement. That choice is easy. You go bouncing up to the front door and try giving it a loud clop-clop. "Anypony home?!" you shout at the top of your little lungs.
No answer.
You reach up and try the knob, and it turns, lucky you! The door swings inwards with a tortured groan as if it hadn't been opened in like a thousand jillion years. You cringe a little, then poke your head in to have a look around. It's dark, but you see some light coming from upstairs down a hallway. You can't see what it might be from here though.
You do see a few dusty chairs, a fireplace with ashes still in it, and some portraits. The portraits hang on the walls and capture the images of very stately ponies. They're earth ponies, like you! They look very old-fashioned and, worst of all, their eyes seem fixed on you.
You try dancing a little to the left, and they follow. You try to the right, and still there they are, staring.
"Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie!" You chirp. If the paintings are alive, maybe they want to be friends?
Suddenly they all close their eyes.
"Oh... okay..."
Your head hangs a little, stung by that rejection, at least until something slaps up against it.
You start with surprise and hop back as a picture frame falls to the floor. Suddenly another frame comes loose of its picture and hurls itself at you and you leap to the side to avoid it. Is this a game, or were you being attacked? Whatever it is, you don't much like it so you start dancing and bobbing around the frames that shatter with loud crashes each time one hit the floor or a wall.
You hear a metal thunk and see one knocked over a lamp. That looks useful! You grab it in your mouth and scurry away from those angry pictures into the kitchen. At least, it looked like a kitchen? There is a big counter, and you're pretty sure that there's a stove and oven. Some pans hang quietly, rusted and old.
Nothing is moving, and that is good. You set down that lamp you got and pull out some flint. You have a lot of assorted rocks, alright? That shouldn't be so surprising. You smack it good until a spark jumps to the wick inside the lantern and it begins to glow softly, letting you see your surroundings more clearly.
You pick up the lantern in your mouth again and start wandering that kitchen. "Hello?" You call out, not even expecting an answer, but it makes you feel better to break the silence. The frames aren't being tossed around. Besides the noises you're making, you are alone in that dark house.
After a moment of thought, you come to a quick decision. You begin searching the kitchen under the light of that lantern. There was old forks, spoons, and some knives. You are not at all interested in having dinner right now though. Besides, you don't see a single solitary thing worth eating. What kind of kitchen has no food?
Ah ha! You do spot a spindle of twine. That's totally gonna be helpful, so you stuff it in your frizzy hair for later.
You reach with your mouth for the lantern only for a face to suddenly rise from the counter. You squeak with surprise and fall back, but the face follows you. It's a pony, but you can see through him. He looks kinda young. A colt at best. "H-hello?" you stammer at him.
"Hi!" speaks the ghost. He sounds friendly, thank Celestia.
You feel a smile coming. A friendly ghost hardly seems worth being worked up about. "I'm Pinkie, who are you?"
"I'm..." He goes silent suddenly and looks around as if frightened. "You should go. Mother's coming."
Mother? "Is she nice?"
He gives a haunted smile, though being a ghost seems like cheating when it comes to that. "Go!" He thrusts a hoof towards the downstairs. "She never checks the furnace!"
A loud voice sounds from upstairs, coming closer with slow steps. "Who are you talking to?!"
"Go!" he hisses at you before turning to face the living room. "No one, mom!"
"Are you lying again?" accused the voice, steps coming closer. "I'll tan your little bottom and have a new hat if I see anypony here."
The poor ghost colt looks like he's about ready to die, again. You grab your lantern and scurry for the door. "We'll talk later," you hurry to say before you scramble through the door and half-stumble down those steep steps.
Thankfully, your lantern lights the way as you descend towards the basement that is every bit as creepy as a basement can possibly be. Cobwebs occupy every corner. Nothing looks new or clean. Disquieting stains are on the walls and appliances from Celestia-knows-what.
It feels like you're being watched, but you left the ghosts behind, right? You glance left and right as you go, trying to keep the words of your dear grandmother in mind. "A scary thing is just a normal thing you're worried about," you say to yourself. "Just look at it again and realize why it's nothing but a laugh that you're so worked up." Saying her words helps to calm you a little as you trot timidly out into the center of the room. There's a funny smell in the air, like bread you left out for too long.
Light suddenly spills in from above! "Don't think I'll trust you so easily! I'll find this little 'friend' of yours and when I do!"
Fear explodes through your little body, heart going thump-a-thump-a! She was gonna find you, and do something horrible! And, well, you didn't want that. What did that little colt say? The furnace?
You spin around wildly before your eyes come to rest on that rusty beast and you hurry for it. There is a metal grate on the front that you pull open. Its tiny squeak sounds like a huge alarm going off. You hop inside into the darkness. Your lantern strikes the coal or whatever is in there as black dust kicks up. The light is gone, but it's just as well as someone else is coming fast.
You're breathing a mile a minute as you swing back around towards the door you can barely see and grab that grate. You pull it shut with another deafening squeak then scramble into the darkness, tripping over yourself as you go. You crash to the ground and finally skid to a halt.
Your eyes and nose sting terribly. Whatever that dust is, it's really getting at you. You want to sneeze, but you don't dare. You can hear those steps coming closer still. You slap your hooves over your snout to hold in your body's maddening need to make noise.
"Where are you hiding them, ungrateful little foal?" The voice's light swings right past the grate of the furnace, allowing you to, for a split second, see the strangely large furnace you're hiding in. "You know mother doesn't like playing this game..."
"I didn't see anypony!" comes the frightened voice of the colt from upstairs. "Honest!"
"You always say that." You hear the person pushing things around, knocking things over. Something large slides roughly against the floor. "Filthy little colt. Why did I even bother making you?"
What a terribly mean thing to say! You want to give her a piece of your mind, but that may not be such a good idea?
What a meany mc-meany pants! You give a near-inaudible little growl before you look around in the darkness. You're covered in soot, in a furnace, with a terrible mother on the loose in a haunted house.
Perfect.
You move to the side of the furnace and rap a hoof on it loudly, letting out a loud squeaky moan just like you imagine a ghost should sound like.
"What's that?" The mother steps closer, but you don't deviate from the script only you know in your head.
You rap the wall harder as if trying to break through it. "Let me out!" you howl in your squeaky tone of voice. "Why did you put me in here!"
The mother stops. "I... I... You deserved it, wretched child." She drives a hoof down just outside the grate. The dim light she carries lets you see her withered old hoof. "You were even worse than him! Rot in hades and stop bothering me!" She suddenly flees. It isn't a gallop, just a purposeful trotting towards the steps. "You're dead and gone, and you best stay that way, or I'll burn you all over again, you hear me?! All over again!"
You're left stunned, sinking back to your haunches. She actually burned another pony to death in here?! That is a bit more than you want to comprehend. A little tear tries to run down your face, but gets all gunked in the soot on the way and just makes a mess.
You don't much like this place, but there's a little scared ghost colt that needs your help.
You wait until you can't hear her steps anymore before you set out a dirty hoof of your own and emerge into the gloom of the basement. You turn around and reach for your lantern, only to discover its glass broke and you're not sure if you should carry it like that. So you leave it there.
"Wait," comes a soft voice. Another face emerges from the furnace much like the colt had. "You're not me. Why did you lie?"
This one is a filly, not a colt. She is burned everywhere except her eyes, which look at you with piercing pink.
You point at her and think quick. "Would you tell her the truth?"
"No," agrees the burnt ghost filly as she emerges fully and hops down to stand beside you. "You heard what she did."
"Why?" You almost fear knowing, and yet, curiosity is a powerful drive. "I mean, if you wanna say."
The filly frowns faintly. "I don't. She burned me. I can still... feel it." She raises a desiccated hoof that looks like it just finished burning out completely. "Stay out of that furnace. It's mine. It's all that I have..."
You shrink back a little. "I didn't mean to--"
"Brother sent you, I know. That's why I didn't give you away." The filly gives a smirk. "He's such a softy."
They were siblings? That sorta makes sense. "How did..." You lick your lips and find out soot doesn't taste very good. You suddenly realize you might have just tasted the remains of the filly in front of you and turn green around the gills.
"How did what?" asks the filly, unaware of your discomfort. "Look, just stay out of my furnace. If I were you, which I am not, I'd leave everything. Why are you even here?"
"It was a mistake, sorta. This house wasn't here before, honest!" you try to explain, gesturing up at where you think the gate is from there. "How do I get out?"
She lets out a long suffering sigh. "If I knew, why would I be here?" She reaches to the right and taps at the furnace. "This is my home. I can't leave it. You're a nice enough filly. If I were still breathing, I bet we could even be, you know, friends." She gives the barest hint of a smile. "It's too late for me."
You can't just accept that. You hop up to your hoofsies, pronk forward and grab the ghos-- Oh, ghosts aren't solid. You fall right through her and flop on the ground.
The filly lets out an eerily silent laugh. "That was real sweet of you. You're a good filly." She reaches out and taps her nose to yours. You feel that for just an instant. "Good luck." She fades away, simply not there anymore.
You gather yourself back up and rub at where she touched you just a moment ago. You want to help her too, but you have no idea how to go about that.
You set your rump on the floor and reach up into the frizzy mess that is your mane. It's especially messy at the moment, what with all the soot and stuff smudged all over and into it. You feel some toys and unfilled balloons in there. Maybe you could play with the colt with those?
You shake your head and reach deeper, rooting around until you find something way more useful!
You pull out your party popgun! One day you hope to have a full-sized cannon, 'cause boy would that be awesome! But mom said you couldn't have anything that big, loud, and dangerous. It'd have to wait until you were a grown mare. For now, you have this popgun. It was like a little watergun, but it shoots out streamers and things to make a place festive in a hurry!
Taking stock of your inventory, you find you have: A length of twine, a party popgun, some deflated balloons, and assorted toys.
You feel ready!
"What is that?" It was the filly. You feel her poke at your popgun even though you can't see her. "Is that a weapon?"
A weapon?! "Nuh uh. It's to make a place all cheerful and ready for a party."
"Party?" The voice seems to be moving around you. Ghosts could do that, right? You hear no hooves on the floor, just her circling voice. "I've never had one of those."
You feel your heart strain. Poor thing. You only recently learned the wonders of a good party. Imagining a life back in the dull days before them... "I'm so sorry! We need to have a big party, you and your brother. Maybe even your big meanie mom if we can make her stop being a big mean--"
"No!" She shoves you from the left and knocks you right on the floor. "Don't bring her here. I don't want to see her."
You quickly bounce back to your hooves. "It can--"
The furnace flares to life, flames licking out of its still open grill. "She burned me to death! Did you forget that little part?"
You still can't see the filly, ghost or not. "Don't you want--"
"I want her to curl up and die."
Oh... That doesn't sound like much fun at all. "What if she said sorry?"
The voice grows dark and growly. "She can come say so to my face..." The grill on the front swings open as flames rush out. "I'll accept then, not before." The flames die down, becoming dark again. "Look, filly, you seem alright. Drop it before she does something just as bad to you."
You don't want that, no. But you also don't want a sad ghost filly. "Isn't there something I can do?"
"You're too..." The voice trails off. "Please, just get out of here. I don't want you to join us. Thank you, now go."
There doesn't seem to be any getting through to her, yet. Later! "Alright if I look around?"
"Yeah, sure. Just stay away from the furnace." The grill on the furnace closes shut and clicks into place.
That leaves you free to wander the basement. Maybe there's another lantern? No such luck. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you make a little light?"
She sighs, but the fires do roar to a gentle life, giving some light across the room.
Able to see, you begin to root around in the boxes and crates. Oh! More toys?! You didn't expect those.
"I remember those," whispers the filly in a tiny voice. "Bring me the doll."
There are a few dolls in there, but when you held up the right one, she gasps. You look it over. It's like a pony with a big goofy smile, googly eyes, and it has a magic wand attached to its right forehoof. It's adorably silly. With a smile, you bounce over to the furnace and hold it up. "Here!"
The filly appears, fading in from nothing as she reaches for the doll. You see no reason to keep it from her and she is soon holding it tight and close. "I thought mother would throw you away forever..." Whatever power allows a ghost to touch things runs out and the doll thumps to the ground as it falls right through the filly. She stares at it as if it has betrayed her.
You pick up the doll gently. "Well she didn't, so that's good right? You have your friend back."
She gives a queer kind of smile. "It needs to die to be with me. Can you put it in the furnace?"
You're not sure if you should or not. "It's your friend. Do you want them to be hurt like you were?"
That makes her flinch. "N-no! I'm not like her... Take it... Take it and... love it, please. Love it like I would."
She fades away.
You tuck the doll into your hair, adding to your inventory.
You turn back towards the rest of the basement and approach one of those boxes. You're certain it must have awesome things in it. Shame it's all nailed shut.
"She put those down here years ago," sighs out the filly.
You don't want to give up that easily. You grab the edge of the crate and give it a mighty heave with a little growl, but it's really not moving. And that's when you feel silly. You see a hammer hanging right there on the wall!
You bounce up onto a table and snatch it off the wall without a problem, then fall back to the box. Wedging the pointy bit between the wood planks, you pull and twist and work that thing like crazy until it pops open with an unfortunately loud crack.
You hear her, "Are you down in the basement?!"
Heart suddenly racing, you pull open the box a little, just enough for you to fit in, and hop inside, then pull it down back into place, silently hoping that she won't notice the damage, or you.
You can see her light swaying from the crack in the box you left behind. "Is that you? Turn off that light!" The lighting changes subtly and you can hear the flame of the furnace die down to nothing. "You're on thin ice, filly. You think I can't punish you now? Think again! Try me one more time..."
There is a silent pause before the swaying light begins to depart. You can hear her old hooves on the steps as she makes her exit.
Once you're sure she's long gone, you carefully lift the lid back up.
"You're on your own," warns the filly. "I don't dare make light again."
Well, shoot. You reach around in the box, searching without any light to work with. You find something. It's rectangular and a little heavy. Exploring it with your hooves, you feel certain it's a picture frame. You're not sure what that'll be good for, but you tuck it away in your hair just in case. It feels important.
In that darkness, you slip out of the box, pull the lid back down, and make for the stairs. You end up following that old mare's scent. It's like a bunch of flowers that someone left out for too long, pungent and sharp. Still, it leads you to the stairs and you start ascending carefully. "I'll be back," you whisper as you go.
"Don't," replies the ghost filly simply. "Get away, please."
You can't think of more to say to her just that moment, you instead emerge from the basement into the gloom, though still lighter than the basement, kitchen.
You hear sniffling. You follow the sound, that faint noise, to a cupboard and pull it open to reveal the colt, curled up on the far side. There are a few plates in there with him, but they look long unused.
He looks up sharply when his hiding place opens up, but the fear in his eyes recedes a little when he realizes it's you. "You're... alright?"
You bob your head quickly. "Your sister helped."
He gave the saddest little smile. "I knew she could be..."
The way he said that... "Isn't she usually nice?"
He shook his head quickly. "Oh no! That's why she... why... Mom didn't do that for nothing." He put a hoof behind his head. "She's a... I mean, she was..."
You put a hoof on his shaking shoulder, even if he feels like he's mostly not there. "She's a nice filly."
He smiles a little, but it goes away quickly. "I knew she could be. You need to get out of here. Mom's getting angrier every time."
About that... "Your sister, she, you know, the furnace, but you?"
He cringes sharply.
"Please?"
He lets out a sigh, his entire form dimming. "Do I have to?"
"Well, no..." you admit. "But it might help. I promise I won't laugh or anything."
"Promise?"
"Super promise!"
"Super mega promise?"
"Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!" You place your hoof against your eye, sealing the solemn oath that you actually just made up like right there on the spot. It feels right though. You'll have to use that more often.
The colt smiles at the silly oath, but he seems to get it. "Alright... Mom didn't do this. It was all my fault really, but... she blamed sis..." He points up. "I was on the roof, where I wasn't supposed to be... Sis was with me, telling me that. I didn't listen. It was fun up there... One of the shingles came lose... I fell. Those..." He swallows hard. "Those... The fence... I landed on it..."
You cringe at the mental image of it. "S-So what happened?"
"I died," he said simply, dimming again. "I died and it was all my own stupid fault. Mom didn't see it that way. She blamed sis. She said sis lured me up there, pushed me. She couldn't... wouldn't... She thought I was a perfect colt, her perfect colt. She was so mad..." He slumps to the floor of the cupboard. "It's all my fault she threw sis in that bad place! I killed her!"
You reach up and yank the picture frame free of your mane and the colt perks up.
"What's that?"
You have no idea, and say as much even as you flip it over to reveal the picture to sight. The colt thumps softly, which is a trick being a ghost, against the back of his hiding spot. "Who are those?"
Examining the picture, you see a nice old-timey portrait of five ponies. There's a mare and a stallion standing side by side. There are three foals at their hooves of differing ages. One of them is immediately recognizable. It's the colt. Sure, maybe a summer or two younger, but him. You point it out to him, tapping the picture.
The colt steps closer. Why would a ghost need to step at all? Not your place to say. But there he is, stepping up and looking at his picture. "It is..." He reaches out and points at the mare. "Mom."
You point at the stallion beside her. "Dad?"
He swallows thickly. "I... remember... Mom said never to call him dad."
"Why?"
"She said never to call him dad," he repeats, looking haunted, which I maintain is a curious thing for a ghost to do.
"Alright, but let's pretend mom's not here right now. Is he your dad?"
He froze a moment. Ghosts don't need to breath, you know, so he is like a statue for a silent moment before he shudders from his spectral ears to his wispy tail. "Yes."
You feel a burst of joy. You're learning something! "Do you know why he's not here?"
The colt glances around. "No..."
You have the impression the colt is telling the truth. His family wasn't as awesome as yours, and they musta had a big fight or something. How awful! If you could, you'd give that colt such a hug, and maybe a 'Sorry your parents are fighting!' party. But there is another mystery! You point at the two fillies. "Which is your sister?"
He points at the larger of the two. "I forgot what she looks like... not burned." He suddenly sniffles, ghostly tears running down his face. "I need to go. You should too."
But who is the smaller filly? You ask as much, tapping the last pony to be identified.
But he doesn't answer. He darts from the room, right through a wall. Gone...
A familiar dread voice calls from above, "Are you making noise?! I'll tan your hide!"
You hear the clip-clops of hooves and hop into the cupboard the colt had occupied moments before. You pull it closed carefully and hide in the far corner.
Those steps come closer and closer. "Where are you? Come out and take your punishment like a good colt."
"I-I'm sorry mom..."
"Aw, I know you are. Why are you making so much noise today?" The voice sounds almost sympathetic.
"I... I miss sister."
"I do too..."
Things grow quiet. There was no sound of spanking or anything.
"You calm down now. Your sister brought this on herself, you know that. You be a good colt."
"M-mom?"
"Mmm?" Some of the mother's usual agitation showed in her tone.
"I... Can..."
"Out with it, foal!"
"Did I have two sisters?"
Something ceramic crashes against the wall above your hiding place. "He took her! He took her away, far away. He split you poor foals up! It's no wonder your other sister went mad and shoved you off the roof! N-now, look and see what I've done..." You can hear bits of ceramic being picked up. "No more talk of the past. There's nothing good back there."
"What was she like?" you can hear the colt asking with a shy but curious tone.
There is a moment of silence. "You... What's gotten into you?" You can hear her walking a little. "Has something bothered you, my child? This isn't like you."
"I... just wanna know what she was like."
"She..." The voice trails off and you hear sniffling, but it isn't the colt's. The older voice becomes soft sobs. "I miss her... Why have all my foals been taken from me?!"
You can hear the colt speaking, but it's too quiet to make out what he's saying. Whatever it is, the sobbing slowly dies down.
"Thank you... Your mother can be silly too sometimes. Come on, let's stop thinking about the past, alright?"
Trying to ignore the past is what's keeping them, all of them, locked right where they are. They're stuck in it! It was so obvious to anypony that wsn't involved. You want to burst out of there and start shouting, but that might not work so well. But... maybe you could slip the picture out where she'll see it without going out yourself?
Your little heart races a mile a minute as your brain spins its little wheels trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly, it makes sense, sorta, kinda..
You push open the door to your safe box just a little bit as you produce the doll. You give it the briefest hug for good luck before you give it a light toss. It hits the edge of the counter, just like you're aiming for and flops from there to the ground, catching everypony's attention.
Not that you watch it for long, retreating to the safe little corner you have there. You can hear them though.
"What..." The mother steps towards it. "How... Did you do this?"
"N-no mom! I didn't go in the basement, I swear!"
There is a tense moment before the sniffling starts up again. "I miss her... Why did he take her away?"
Who is he? How and why did he take her? You want to know! Rrrrrg! Well, this place is already haunted, so you can play the part of the ghost! You grab out the picture and slip to the edge, peeking out to see the ghost colt comforting his mom. With a sudden flick, you toss the picture so it bops the mare right in the side.
"W-what?!" She starts with surprise, then sees the picture. You sorta expect her to get angry at the stallion depicted, but the old mare actually picks it up with shaking hooves. "You... stupid stallion..." She hugs it tight. "Stupid stupid stallion!"
You back away, letting it gently slide shut rather than risk being seen. You don't trust that mare, even as you're trying to figure her out.
The colt didn't have the luxury of hiding. "What's wrong, mother?"
"Either... he... is back, or your little sister..."
"Is that good?"
She draws a quivering breath. "That depends on which it is." She sets the picture down on the counter, you can hear its wood hitting the tile. "If it's her... I hope you two become good friends again. If it's... If... it's him..." She swallows loud enough for you to hear. "I..."
Why is she delaying? This is the part you want to hear! But fear continues to pin you to your hiding place.
"It's alright, momma."
"No, it really isn't." You hear her rump slump to the floor. "It really isn't... Why do you put up with me?"
"Momma?"
"I'm a pretty lousy one of those..."
"It's alright."
"It's not alright! D--" You can hear her panting and heaving. "I'm sorry... I'm... No, enough." She stands up. "I need to go."
"Back to your room?"
"No! Further! This house has too many ghosts!"
"Don't leave me, momma!"
There's a pause. You can only hear your heart thumping and the soft gasps of breath from your own lips.
"I left you years ago... I'm so sorry. I left you before you... fell... I left you when... When they died."
They died?
"Momma?" The colt sounded terribly confused and lost.
"You remember what I told you, how you lost your little sister?"
"D... He took her away."
"He did... they went to a beach, or were going to. They went without us, without asking me. There was... an accident. Neither survived. He broke the rules, lied to me, got them both killed... He took her away, but not the way you probably imagined."
"Is that why you're so mad, momma?"
"Yes! Yes... Everyone I loved is dead... Even you."
Thump. You fall over trying to listen better to what's being said. Oops!
"What's that?" Oh no! She's coming closer. You scramble to your hooves, but that's just more noise. She's coming! You pull out your party popgun and aim it at the door, trembling with building terror.
She pulls it open! POP! Confetti settles around her snout.
She blinks at you quietly a moment before she thrusts a hoof in after you and plucks you free from your hiding space. "So here's the source of all the noise today!"
"No, momma, no! Don't hurt her!" The colt is at her shoulder.
You're being held up in the air. "Give me a good reason not to!"
You actually have an answer for that one. "My mom's waiting for me to get home."
She drops you as if you were made of fire. "Y-your mother..."
"She'd get super sad if I didn't go home." You put a hoof behind your head. "You have a nice house?"
She quirks a smile at that, crooked and old. "I don't agree." She reaches for you and you flinch, but she just pats you on the head. "You get back to your mother right this instant, naughty filly. You tell her how bad you've been today. She should tan your pink hide."
The colt let out a ghostly moan of a sigh. "She's super nice, momma. Please don't be mad at her."
Freedom! But wait... "There's one more thing I have to do."
"Oh?" She frowns a little. "What is that?"
You point to the basement. "I promised her I would help her."
The mother winces, her entire face scrunching a moment. "She's beyond help!"
"N-no! I promised! It was a Pinkie Promise!" You object, clopping a hoof down.
The ancient mare peers at you a moment. "You're still a naughty filly... Fine, keep your words. Good ponies do that." She starts to walk towards the living room. "There's nothing you can do for her. I'll leave the gate unlocked for when you give up."
You are sure of one thing, you are not going to quit now! You're so close to wrapping this whole thing up and making everypony happy and you're not ready to give that up.
Alright, so, the two ghosts need to be happy. Sure, they have a lot to be sad about, but that doesn't mean they have to be sad forever or anything.
"What are you thinking about?" asks that colt, floating a bit above you.
You blink out of your reverie. "Huh, oh! I just want you to be happy, like I am with my sisters."
He smiles a little. "You have sisters? What are they like?"
"They're like everything!" You squeak. "One's all fierce and protective. Another's all shy and gentle, and then there's Maud." You lean in a little. "Don't tell anypony but I think she's my favorite. She always gets my jokes!"
The colt smiles gently, more natural and less forced by the moment. "They all sound nice." He reaches out and boops you right on the nose. "You're my favorite."
Aw! "Thanks! But you haven't even met them, and that won't-- or will it?" You frown a bit before you take a deep breath. You have a lot of emotions built up in you over the whole scary thing you just went through and it comes out in a song. You bounce from floor to counter-top and off the walls all around the colt as you remind him that no matter how dark it might seem, there's always light waiting to be found. You remind him that you just have to never give up, no matter how tempting.
"Pinkie?"
You look up at that placid voice to see Maud in the doorway. Your song aborts as you rush up to her and give her the biggest hug ever! "Oh, I'm so happy to see you!"
Maud squeezes you with one hoof. "Mom and dad were worried about you," she informs in her usual even tone. "Who's your friend?" She is looking right at the ghost colt as if that was an everyday thing.
The colt squirms in place. "Oh, uh..."
"He's funny," remarks Maud before she looks at you. "Ready to come home?"
"No!" You point at the colt. "Him and his sister are stuck here, as sad ghosties. We haveta help them!"
Maud tilts her head slowly, then reaches a hoof into her skirt and produces a small rock. "You can come with me."
The colt blinks widely. "What? Really?"
"We can play all kinds of games," she tempts with her flat tone. "I bet you're good at hide and seek."
"I am," confesses the colt with a renewed grin. He moves up to the rock and pokes it. "But it's just a rock."
"Just a rock?" Maud looks at him, then the rock, and back at him. "It's my very first rock. His name is--"
"Boulder!" squeaks the colt.
Maud gives the barest hint of a smile. "That works, but only if you're coming."
Even as they negotiate that, you head to the basement. That was one foal down, but there was another that needs help! You bounce down the stairs. They hardly seem scary anymore. "Hello?"
"You're still here?" The filly pokes her ghostly head out of the furnace. "Are you here to give me the doll?"
"Noooot exactly. I got a better idea!"
"Better?" She raises a brow at you. "I don't want to be lonely anymore."
"So don't be." You raise up onto your hindlegs. "I'm inviting you home! Your brother's coming."
"He is?" She sounds surprised. "How? I'm stuck here."
"Are you, or are you just convinced you are?" You challenge.
"I've tried before."
"Have you?" You grin. "I bet, if you really really wanted to, you could make an awesome new body for yourself."
The girl blinks softly before a little ghostly laugh escapes her, the furnace glowing with embers as she does so. "There was this monster at the zoo. It was close to where... the accident was. I want to be that. All big, scaley, with teeth." She makes threatening gestures. "How about that?"
You shrug a bit. "Why not? You'll never know if you don't try."
So she does! She closes her eyes and makes funny little noises. She starts to glow and sparkle and suddenly Fwoosh! A flash of light and pow! She's gone.
But she isn't. There's a fierce and mighty alligator there! Sure, he doesn't have any teeth at all, and he is a he, not a she, but there he is.
You are a pony of your promises. You present the doll to the alligator, just for him to leap at you and gum wildly at your left leg. "Gummy!" you decide out-loud. "That will be your new name!"
The campfire smoldered softly, crackling in the middle of the circle of ponies.
Apple Bloom tilted her head at Pinkie. "Well that was... interesting?" The other crusaders beside her looked equally baffled.
Rainbow Dash snorted softly. "Interesting? Pinkie, that was the weirdest spooky story you told yet."
Twilight raised a hoof. "I nominate it be a rule that no future campfire tales be a choose your own adventure narrative."
A chorus of ayes sounded around the campfire as Pinkie pouted. She thought that had been a great story...
She started at a light poke at her side. It was Fluttershy. "Was it true?" It had taken quite a bit of effort to get her to come out for the camping trip. Pinkie was extra surprised when the shy mare had stuck around for the spooky stories. "That was... really nice of you, if it was."
"Ask Gummy!" Pinkie produced the reptile from nowhere at all and held him up at Fluttershy.
Gummy's input was to chomp Fluttershy, getting his whole mouth around her snout. She squeaked with surprise and shook him free before fleeing back to her seat.
Oh well. At least Pinkie had enjoyed telling the story.
