Lining the paths that ran through Ponyville were a wide assortment of puddles in varying shapes and sizes. These little pools, their reflective surfaces as stable and still as glass, began to ripple from the violent impact of the descending rain droplets. The tiny “ponds” became more like the turbulent seas described by explorers of old, the “waves” created becoming more than big enough to swallow up any minuscule ship in their path. Their tranquil existence would only be further disrupted as three sets of hooves frantically stampeded right through them. While the splashes cascaded far past the rims of the puddles with every percussive step, the trio kept galloping in a fruitless effort to outrun the storm clouds blacking out Ponyville’s skies.
The little white unicorn of the group growled to herself in impotent frustration, resentful at the seemingly short window of time that school students like her were given by the weather team to go home.
“Now that I think about it, did the rest of us even need to be there for that whole visit?”, she wondered.
There was a point to be had there; they could have at least avoided the worst of this storm if they had just straight headed home instead of stopping to see Scootaloo’s aunts first. Apple Bloom was similarly regretting how long the visit took, but still understood that it was best that they didn’t leave Scootaloo to wander the streets alone what with her state of mind coming in. Actually, Scootaloo was the only filly in their group seemingly unbothered by the rain. Noticeably trailing quite a bit behind the other two, her gallop slowed significantly as if she were dragging a rope tying her back to the place that they all had just left.
Not so coincidentally, this was also a perfect description of her state of mind. That visit to her aunt’s temporary cottage home kept replaying in her mind over and over. She was practically counting all the ways that visit turned out much differently than what she had expected. Not least was the moment Holiday described seeing that… thing flying outside their window. While her vague and broad description of the creature left a lot to be desired, the timing of this alone made the whole situation feel incredibly uncanny.
However, another moment that stuck with Scootaloo was the way the visit ended. Not the moment she accidentally revealed the two eavesdroppers now galloping in front of her or when she regrettably figured out what her two aunts were doing right before she and her friends got there. Rather, it was the moment when she was about to storm out, but not before letting out yet another outburst, one that proved highly revealing not only to her aunts but herself. Thinking about it long enough, she had to admit that her aunties might have a point.
Maybe these feelings of dread and ominous nightmares she’s been experiencing could actually be her mind psyching her up, having been primed to expect disaster after having both her house and sense of security breached by that falling tree. That did intuitively make sense. Yet, every time Scootaloo’s rational side started winning out, the mental image of the monster of her nightmares ominously watching over her sleeping aunts would resurface and bring her back to a state of paranoia. Her thoughts kept following this pattern for the entire way, even as they all saw Carousel Boutique come into view.
“Thank Celestia!”, Sweetie Belle exclaimed.
The trio picked up the pace, sprinting with undiluted gusto towards the shelter they’d been seeking. Wiping the rain from her eyes, Scootaloo began speeding up until she was finally running side by side with her two friends rather than lagging behind them. They kept charging forward, still unconcerned with whichever mud puddle they trampled through. They only began slowing down once it was clear that they’d crash muzzle-first into the door if they didn’t. However, as they got closer, they noticed the doorknob began to turn. The three fillies then looked on as the door slowly opened to reveal a white coated, purple maned mare expectantly standing on the other side. All three of them immediately ground their boot-clad hooves into the ground, sliding across the muddy surface until they came to a halt right in front of the entrance, face to face with the mare of the house… err boutique.
At first, the Crusaders’ looked up at Rarity with gratitude plain on their faces. However, whatever appreciation they were about to show got caught in their throats when they noticed sour glare the mare was giving them.
“Where in Equestria have you been?”, she asked coldly.
Sweetie had trouble blurting an answer for a moment. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting to be confronted the literal second she was standing in front of Carousel Boutique. She figured her that her sister would’ve been too busy to even notice them coming through the door.
“W-we’re sorry for bein’ late Miss Rarity.”, Apple Bloom timidly spoke before Sweetie could. “We just made a stop ta see Scootaloo’s aunts is all.”
“I see…”
Rarity’s glare softened into a more neutral, yet stern expression as she turned her gaze towards Scootaloo.
“How are they?”, she asked.
“They’re… doing okay, I guess.”, the little pegasus answered.
The nodded in understanding before stepping aside to clear a path for the little trio of fillies as she held the door open for them.
“Do come inside now.”, she said.
Eager to get out of the rain, the Crusaders happily obliged. As was customary, they each began taking off their muddy boots and leaving them on the doormat before coming in. As they pulled down their hoods and began taking off their raincoats, Rarity announced something else as she trotted past them.
“Also, have a seat on the couch while you wait.”
Sweetie Belle paused, her coat levitating mid-air in front of the hanger. Both she and her friends turned their perplexed little heads towards the mare as she approached the next room’s entrance. She managed to get out one question for her big sister before she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Um… what are we going to be waiting on?”
“Oh, you’ll find out.”, she answered cryptically as she exited the business section of her home.
The vibrant blue impressions on the dish made it a fine decorative piece for the room. Standing on the table, the plate depicted a whimsical scene of an entire kirin village going about its daily routine. The outer rim of the dish was decorated in all sorts of symbols from the ancient kirin language that Sweetie Belle didn’t understand in the slightest, but she guessed was just as pleasant as the village portrayed. Of course, this wasn’t the only knick knack in the living room that had caught Sweetie’s attention.
“Honestly, of all the things you could’ve been looking at…”
Ever since she renovated the boutique to include this living room, Rarity decided to differentiate it from the rest of the place by giving it a wide assortment of exotic decor. For instance, there was the Zebrican tribal mask that she got from Zecora staring down at them from its spot above the door. There were also some items given as parting gifts by some of her favorite Friendship School students who graduated mere months ago. Some gifts like Silverstream’s massive pearl held in an enchanted clam casing clearly had her glamorous tastes in mind. Others, like Yona’s homemade traditional yakistani blanket that hung on the across from Sweetie was more modest; though, as a seamstress, she absolutely had an appreciation for the craftsmareship put into the blanket’s eye catching patterns.
“…you chose some tasteless dreck like that!”
And then there was the item sitting right on top of the coffee table. The only item that Sweetie was going out of her way to avert her gaze from: the crystal ball. In fact, the whole reason she had been eyeing every other item in the room for the express purpose of not having to set her sights on that orb right in front of her. It also helped that it allowed her to avoid looking at her chastising sister. In contrast, Scootaloo was unable to pry her eyes away from the crystal ball since they sat down.
“Though I am disappointed, I must admit that I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”
Despite their actions being antithetical, they belied how they both were dreading future that this fortune teller’s tool seemed to forecast for them. Each moment spent waiting for Rarity to finish changing Apple Bloom’s bandages, the more on edge Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo became. With her scissors, Rarity finally cut the gauze from the rest of the roll before tying it into a little bow on to the side of her head.
Still looking down at the farm filly, the mare lowered her head down to her level and calmly asked, “How do the bandages feel, dear? Are they too tight?”
“N-nah, just fine ma’m. Thanks.”, Apple Bloom answered in a shaky tone that betrayed her expression of gratitude.
“Good, now take a seat.”
Rarity put both the scissors and roll of bandages back in the medical kit as Apple Bloom unenthusiastically made her way around the coffee table to and plop herself right next to Sweetie Belle on the couch, sandwiching the unicorn filly between her and Scootaloo. With closed eyes, the mare audibly inhaling through her nose before contradictorily exhaling a silent sigh. Opening her eyes to see all three fillies nervously looking up at her, the mare stood out of her chair and began speaking with her icy, yet level glare freezing them in place with its scrutiny.
“So”, she began. “At the risk of sounding cliche, tell me what you have to say for yourselves.”
After several seconds of the Crusaders silently exchanging looks to each other, the mare sternly continued, “Oh don’t be shy. I’d simply love to hear your excuse for this one.”
Her eyes were drawn to the orange hoof raised to the air, the filly it was attached to finally began speaking.
“I’d just like to point out that this was totally Sweetie’s idea!”
The unicorn’s spun around to face her accuser, “Shut up, Scoots!”
“Ah can confirm that it really was Sweetie that wanted us ta watch those creepy stories. Now please, just don’t tell mah sister about this!”, Apple Bloom pleaded, only to be taken aback by her friend shoving her face into hers.
Looking the farm filly dead in the eyes, Sweetie growled, “If it weren’t for that head injury, I’d clock you in that stupid tattle tale jaw-AH!”
The little unicorn had her threat cut slightly short when she felt herself yanked off the couch by her ear. As it turned out, Rarity was using magic to drag her sister to the to the chair on the other side, leaving a squeaking trail of “ow’s” behind her. She then expanded her magic to envelop the rest of the filly, lifting her off the ground and roughly plopping her down on the chair. While she was in the middle of rubbing her poor ear with her hoof, Rarity got up in the filly’s wincing face, mirroring Sweetie Belle’s actions from just a second ago.
“I do not want to hear you uttering anything like that again!”, the mare growled. “Am I clear?”
Even with her eyes looking downward and her cheeks puffed out in frustration, Sweetie wisely nodded in response.
Rarity then took another moment for a calming breath in and out. This whole fiasco was bad enough without Sweetie Belle’s brutish behavior. Honestly, she had no idea where her sister learned to act in a way that was so unbecoming for a lady. As much as she’d like to address her behavior, that’ll have to wait for now.
“Now, all of you listen carefully.”, she said as she began circling the room. “I do not care whose idea it originally was to put… this on.”
She gestured to the orb projecting its vertical, virtual bookshelf of “bedtime stories” before continuing.
“The problem is that all three of you went along with it, despite knowing that neither I, nor your legal guardians, would be okay with it!”
All three fillies, even Sweetie Belle, flinched and then immediately hung their heads down, looking like perfect models for a sculptor’s representation of somepony resigning to their fate. They each waited for the grounding that was awaiting them since the beginning.
“However.”
Their heads perked up in surprise, their eyes going back to the mare’s face, now adorned with a softer expression.
“I won’t be officially grounding any of you.”, she said, before brightening the fillies’ days even further by adding, “And I’ll consider not telling your families about this.”
Just as they were all sighing with relief, Rarity enveloped the crystal ball in her magic, levitating the orb off the table and in the air right next to her without even looking at it.
“That being said”, she continued. “I’m afraid I must take this back to Twilight as soon as I can.”
“Wait, what!?”, the mare heard from her right, followed by a pair of groans released in chorus to her left.
“But-“, she heard her sister stammer out, to which she simply raised her hoof to halt her.
“No buts.”, she commanded. “Just head upstairs you three. I’m sure you have plenty assignments that you need to get to. That should keep you busy for a while.”
“But what are we gonna do after we’re done?”, Scootaloo questioned.
“You’ll figure that out on your own, I’m sure.”
“Listen, we’re really, really sorry, okay!, Apple Bloom desperately apologized. “But don’t ya think this is a bit harsh? Leavin’ us without anythin’ ta do upstairs for the whole week?”
“I understand where you’re coming from, darlings.”, Rarity tried to assure. “But this isn’t about punishing you. It’s just that this sort of content is in no way appropriate for any of you.”
As she began to maneuver around the table and head for the door with the orb floating beside her, her little sister’s scowl followed her every movement.
“And I clearly can’t trust any of you to not keep seeking this sort of drivel, so long as you have this in your possession.”
“Did you even watch any of them?”, asked an aggravated Sweetie Belle.
Rather than give a response, Rarity continued on her way. However, by the time she was halfway to the door, the unicorn mare suddenly felt something yanking her tail, preventing her from continuing forward. Turning her head back, she saw her sister standing right behind her, horn channeling her magic. Upon realizing that her sister had been the one grabbing her by the tail, Rarity grew ever more silently furious.
“Young lady…”, she grumbled with narrowing eyes. “I have no idea what has gotten into you lately, but you’re very close to changing my mind on grounding you if you don’t let go now.”
“You didn’t answer my question! Did you watch any of them?”, her sister asked again, insistent on this line of questioning.
With a groan, Rarity answered with, “I don’t need to watch them to able to tell that a story called ‘Who Killed Cindy James?’ is not suitable for little fillies! Now would you-“.
“Okay, okay!”, Sweetie interrupted. “Then please just hear me out for a second!”
Rarity felt her patience being slowly chiseled away in the face of her sibling’s persistence. She seriously considered just shutting the conversation down and sending the girls upstairs right then and there. Sweetie’s friends were surprised that hasn’t even happened yet. But no matter how much they wanted to tell their friend to pipe down before she got all of them in trouble, neither Apple Bloom or Scootaloo allowed themselves to speak up. They continued to anxiously watch on, taken aback by Sweetie’s brazen behavior in spite of the thin ice she was already standing on.
“What if you took a look at one of them…?”, the unicorn filly said to her perplexed sister before adding, “With us, I mean!”
Rarity raised an eyebrow as she spoke, “You’re seriously asking me to sit down and watch one of these with you?”
Upon seeing Sweetie Belle confirm her question with a nod, the mare rolled her eyes before continuing, “Oh, puh-lease! What could you possibly be trying to accomplish by having me sit through one of these?”
“Listen. Let’s say we sit through one story together.”, Sweetie began responding. “This way you can see whether or not they’re really too much for us and we can prove that we’re actually grown up enough to handle this.”
“And what happens when I find that you aren’t?”, Rarity immediately countered.
“Then you can take it back to Twilight and we’ll go upstairs without any more complaints!”
A moment of silence passed over the room as one sister waited on the other’s answer, the two witnesses still remained seated and quiet on the couch. Rarity understood that Sweetie was in no position to start bargaining with her; she knew that such attempts are never supposed to be entertained by the legal guardian. Yet, she was actually seriously considering it. If her sister was being even slightly honest, then that meant there was a chance she and her friends could go up quietly if she went along. Not to mention that, in her eyes, this would be an easy win; like there would ever be an instance where she watched something like these and felt comfortable letting these three fillies watch it regularly.
Besides, despite the due date for her latest commission drawing nearer with each day, she really wasn’t in the mood to return to work just yet. With her pulling all-nighters and taking fewer breaks, she was running the risk of burning herself out creatively. That was the last thing she needed right now when she still had deadlines to meet. This could help her momentarily relieve the frustration which that had built up both over the course of this conversation and the past few days. Yes, she deserved a moment to clear her mind anyway.
All three fillies waiting in anticipation for her answer perked up when Rarity let out a sigh. She trotted her way back to the couch and then sat the orb on the table and herself on the couch.
“Fine, we’ll take a look at one of these ‘bedtime stories’ together.”, she said to the Crusader’s delight. “But I will be the one who picks the story.”
The smile on Sweetie Belle’s face gave way to a wince. She was counting on being able to give her sister a positive impression by picking the least offensive story she could find, like the CrossWade Interlopers or the Fatima tale. But now, a story about anything could conceivably be put on display for Rarity to witness; from grizzly mass murders to aliens that abduct people and skin them alive. This really was a roll of the dice now. However, the filly quickly calmed herself down. It’s not like it would land her in more trouble than she already was in.
As Sweetie strolled up to the couch and took a seat between Rarity and Scootaloo, she said, “That’s okay. But can you please cover your eyes and stick out your hoof?”
“Why?”, Rarity asked.
Just then, Apple Bloom decided to pipe up and answer.
“It’s just our way of pickin’ stories randomly!”, she explained succinctly before elaborating. “Somepony else is supposed ta scroll through stories while your eyes are covered until ya tell them ta stop.”
“And then whatever story your hoof lands on will be the one we watch.”, Scootaloo chimed in.
“Exactly!”, Sweetie Belle exclaimed. “So, let me just take this pen here-“
Sure enough, just when the filly was about to take hold of the pen, a blue aura enveloped it and floated to Rarity’s side.
“Thank you, but… I think I’ll handle both of those myself.”, the mare said in a suspicious tone. “I’ve always been a good multitasker, anyway.”
“Shit!”, Sweetie Belle inwardly cursed. “She saw right through that one immediately!”
With her magic, Rarity pressed the pen against the projected screen before sticking her hoof out and closing her eyes. The three fillies intently looked on with apprehension as she scrolled up the story anthology with the three strong swipes, Sweetie Belle especially. She let out the breath she had been holding when Rarity’s hoof finally landed on a story. Unfortunately for her, the story’s cover art left it unclear what they would all be in for. It wasn’t clear what exactly that hooded figure in the illustration was supposed to be, but it definitely did not anything she’d seen.
Upon opening her eyes, Rarity was also struck by this thing’s otherworldly appearance, so much so that she actually flinched at first. She tried to look at it from every angle possible, but she could only gleam one fact from it. This was indeed… a face. A face of what? Well, she wasn’t sure with its lack of a visible mouth or nose, its bug eyes and what looked like an elephant’s trunk drooping down from its face. She was pretty sure Twilight never described the “humans” as looking like this.
She cleared her throat and took a look at the story’s title.
“The Mad Gasser of Mattoon”, she read aloud.
She and the trio of fillies each grew perplexed at that title.
“What’s a ‘gasser’?”, Scootaloo asked, voicing what everypony was thinking.
“I have no idea, but there’s only one way to find out.”, Rarity answered, before tapping the screen to activate the story.
Sweetie Belle quietly gulped just as the screen displayed a bright full moon shining over a field on an eerie evening. Rarity would have loved to have taken the time to admire how crisp the illustration was if it weren’t for the voice that began speaking almost immediately. She was only slightly surprised when she heard the voice begin speaking about a war (The Second World War, to be precise) which evidently came nowhere near the the forest and fields she was laying eyes on. The narrating voice then described how during this conflict which took place in far-flung lands, back home in a small town in rural “Illinois”, had its own highly sinister and mysterious enemy that it had to do battle against. With that, the narrator one last question before it faded to black and the intro began, “Who was the Mad Gasser of Mattoon?”
While Rarity was preoccupied with looking at the intro so unfamiliar to her yet so familiar to everypony else, Apple Bloom only had one question on her mind.
“Ah wonder what flavor of crazy he’s supposed ta be?”
Sweetie Belle turned to Apple Bloom and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Well, they said this ‘gasser’ is mad, as in crazy, right?”, the farm filly clarified. “And there’s usually two kinds of crazy ponies, the fun kind and the scary kind. So, which one do ya think he is?”
“I can’t imagine this somehow being about a town being attacked by someone who’s just a really goofy goober like Pinkie Pie.”
“That reminds me.”, Scootaloo chimed in. “I sometimes get the feeling that half the things she does should be taken as red flags, but I can’t figure out why.”
Apple Bloom repetitively tapped her hoof to her chin as something resurfaced in her memories.
“Actually, ah remember hearin’ that Pinkie supposedly helped Sweetie Drops keep Silly Suga out of town. It’s said she did some real scary stuff ta pull that off too.”
“Huh. Makes you wonder how thin the line is between delightfully insane and criminally insane.”, said Sweetie Belle.
It was then that Rarity had just about enough of this conversation.
“Oh hush all of you!”, she lightly chastised. “Pinkie is not a thug. Nor is she insane or even remotely dangerous, she’s just eccentric. You three and I have known her long enough to realize that.”
Despite what she was saying now, she internally felt ashamed of herself. Not only had she speculated in the past that Pinkie suffered from some form of Bipolar Disorder after that mental breakdown she had when the poor mare thought her friends were avoiding her, but she accidentally spread rumors of that thanks to her accursed loose lips. At least she could be glad that she managed to quell that silly rumor before Pinkie caught on. Thank Celestia she never pieced together why everypony looked at and talked to her funny for a couple months.
She managed to snap out of her trip through the guilt-laden streets of memory lane just in time for the intro to finish. The story opened on the image of a human taxi driver’s wife, Aline Kearney, lying beside and lovingly watching over one of her two daughters in bed. Despite being used to having just herself and her children in the house, for whatever reason she was feeling vulnerable enough to have asked her sister to come and stay with her on the night of Friday 1st of September 1944. One of the reasons for Aline’s nagging feelings of apprehension was the considerable amount of money on the premises, as she had cashed a check at the town’s bank earlier that day.
When Sweetie Belle noticed her big sister nodding at that she asked, “Have you also been scared of somepony breaking in and robbing you?”
“Oh, always Sweetie Belle!”, Rarity answered. “Especially with all the valuable materials I work with here. It’s every business owner’s biggest fear.”
“Well, you definitely won’t have to worry about that as long as we’re here!”, Scootaloo proclaimed half-jokingly, to which Rarity chuckled in good nature.
“No need for my little ‘crusader knights’ to risk themselves. I’ve already gotten Twilight to install a few security spells on the premises. Trust me when I say that any strangers trying to break in are in for a nasty surprise.”, she assured.
Sweetie Belle visibly perked up; not because of her sister’s reassuring news, but because of how quickly the mood had already lightened. She took this as a good sign and even dared to hope that it was only a matter of time before her precious storyball was given back to her.
The narrator detailed how the house’s single level structure and its windows which were left open to counter the stifling heat made it an especially easy target for break ins. Aline’s fears were only exacerbated when the morning papers reported an increase of prowler incidents. In addition, the Mattoon Police were currently engaged in the search for a German prisoner of war, who had escaped from an interment camp in nearby “Peoria”. But for now, all she could do was hope that her husband, Bert, came home from work a little earlier.
“A camp? That’s a weird word to use for a prison.”, Sweetie Belle pointed out.
“Do they do archery or haiku writing as part of their activities?”, wondered Scootaloo.
“Ah wonder if that German escaped cause he was a spoil sport like Rumble?”, Apple Bloom questioned.
“Huh. I forgot that they started a camp on their own.”, she realized. “Did I let them know just how proud I was back then?”
As the nervous housewife continued to lay in bed comforting one of her girls, she could have sworn she noticed a slight movement outside the open bedroom window, but when she took a closer look there was nothing to be seen. However, she noticed a few minutes later that a thick, overpowering and “sickly-sweet” odor pervaded the air in the room. After the story transitioned to a close-up, outside perspective of the house, they began telling how Aline realized she had suddenly lost all feeling in her legs which sent her crashing to the floor. Before everypony watching could ask themselves what was going on, three-year-old Dorothy was sobbing from her place on the bed, asking her mother why she also couldn’t move her arms or legs.
Rarity just barely kept herself from audibly gasping, drawing in a sharp breath through her nose. She may not have had the full picture as to what was going on, but not only was it clear the situation wasn’t good, it was looking deadly too. There may have been a lot of grim and grotesque content she was expecting, but none of them could make her heart sink quite like the endangerment of children did. The Crusaders themselves felt their skin crawl at the thought of having no control of their limbs. It didn’t help for Apple Bloom when it reminded her of when Twist told her about the one time she got sleep paralysis; she quickly shook off Twist’s horrific description of her sleep paralysis monster that was emerging in her mind.
Thankfully for the family, their combined screams drew the attention of Aline’s sister, who immediately ran to their neighbors to summon help. With unbelievable timing, Aline’s finally pulled into the driveway. Both he and the ponies watching grew shocked as the story panned to the left, revealing a dark silhouette illuminated in his headlights. Rarity would have wondered how the lanterns on Mr. Kearney’s cart shined as brightly as they did if she weren’t so focused on the figure standing in front of the residence’s open bedroom window.
Scootaloo looked at the tall and slim figure holding its long, unidentified metal instrument as the narrator described how they were apparently wearing some “odd facial apparatus”.
She then finally asked, “What’s that thing he’s holding?”
“Looks like a gas cylinder ta me.”, Apple Bloom answered.
“A what?”
“Ya know, like those helium tanks used ta fill up balloons.”
“Oh.”, the pegasus filly said. “So, that’s why they call him the Mad Gasser?”
“I’m more curious about why this guy is just standing at the window?”, Sweetie pondered. “Is he waiting until the gas does its job so he can get in safely?”
“When ya say ‘does its job’, do ya mean knock ‘em out or…”
As Apple Bloom’s sentence trailed off, Rarity sternly interjected with, “For your sake, it had better be the former.”
Turning their attention back to the story, they listened as Bert Kearney furiously leapt from his vehicle and ran at the masked intruder, who immediately fled into an alleyway nearby. When he returned to his house a few minutes, he was surprised to see police officers and ambulances already on the scene. He, of course, joined them in their efforts to calm down his horribly distressed family.
“Hmm, the authorities got there remarkably fast. Faster than any I’ve ever seen.”, Rarity remarked.
Just when Sweetie Belle was about to speak up, the mare continued, “Twilight wasn’t kidding when she said how efficiently those phones and cars worked.”
The younger sister barely kept herself from letting out a groan of disappointment, slumping down in her spot on the couch. Here she thought she might be able to show how she knew something her big sister didn’t, only for that to be dashed away immediately.
It was only within a few hours that the press would christen the mysterious attacker with its now infamous nickname; the Mad Gasser of Mattoon. After the story transitioned away from the outside of the house, Rarity found herself lost as she was taken on a brief journey through the town’s history, which consisted of only two significant moments. Something about a famous general using the town as a staging post during the country’s civil war and the other time a president once rested at the town; it wasn’t specified what he was the president of, but given his stay was while on route to a political debate, her best guess is that he was the leader of an activist or lobbying organization.
“Wait, ‘American Civil War’? How can a war be civil?”, Scootaloo wondered, now picturing representatives from Equestria and Griffonstone sitting at opposite ends of a table, having a catty and passive aggressive conversation without ever raising their hooves/claws to actually fight it out.
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, “It’s when ponies-er, citizens of the same country go to war with each other. Like a rebellion, basically.”
“Ooohhh!”, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom exclaimed in stereo.
“Wait, a minute! Don’t that technically mean Equestria got into a civil war immediately after Nightmare Moon was banished?”
Apple Bloom was, of course, referring to the bat pony rebellions of a thousand years past. An event that finally started getting taught in history courses once the “myth” of Nightmare Moon was proven fact upon her prophesied return.
“That is… sort of true, Apple Bloom.”, Rarity half-affirmed. “Though, if I am recalling what Twilight told me correctly, the accuracy of that label is still heavily debated given the fact the bat ponies weren’t technically considered legal citizens at the time.”
Indeed, for pretty much the entirety of Equestrian history the nomadic bat ponies’ positions in society had been… not great to say the least. So, when word got out of Nightmare Moon’s banishment for her promise to bring about eternal night, the nocturnal creatures naturally began seeing her as a figure (a martyr, even) to rally around and the only avenue to a better life. Ironically, allying with her and rebelling in her name only seemed to set back whatever progress they could have made by a whole thousand years. Even after Luna’s reformation, it’s taking a great deal of effort to help shed bat ponies of their reputations as shifty, untrustworthy and unnatural beings.
The video then began describing the recent population changes at the outbreak of World War Two, becoming largely inhabited by agricultural and petrochemical workers. Whilst Scootaloo wondered if that mention of “petrochemicals” was an indicator of this shadowy attacker’s day job, the narrator began describing the actual first time they struck. On the evening of Thursday, August 31 at an address in Grant Avenue, an unknown substance was pumped into the Raef family’s bedroom.
All ponies in the room grimaced at the sickening image of Mrs. Raef waking up to see her husband as a heaving mess, desperately propping himself up on all fours in front of the bed. They weren’t sure if Mrs. Raef was covering her mouth solely as part of her expression of shock as she looked upon her husband uncontrollably vomiting on the floor or if she was fighting to keep herself from spewing chunks as well. Either way, it was unnerving to them how neither the husband nor wife noticed the menacing entity standing right outside their window.
“Why ain’t they showin’ what this gasser look like?”, wondered Apple Bloom as she stared at its entirely silhouetted form.
It would be an hour before the couple was in any condition to contact the police, who ended up finding nothing out of the ordinary at the house when they finally arrived. Since neither party suffered any lasting ill effects, this was simply chalked up to being the result of a “gas leak”. That was, until the following evening when they got reports of yet another incident. Shortly after Bert Kearney had lost sight of the intruder, there was a further incident reported in nearby Prairie Avenue where a Mrs. Rider awoke to hear her crying and vomiting in the next room. She then immediately became overwhelmed by a sweet-smelling mist that had drifted in through her bedroom window.
Scootaloo smirked as she tapped a hoof to her chin, “You know, I feel like this kinda proves the point we were making about Pinkie Pie a little bit ago.”
She didn’t even have to notice the looks everypony else on the couch was giving her to begin elaborating.
“I mean, if Pinkie was some sort of psycho killer, she’d totally make a weapon that smells like cotton candy or something like that, right?”
After a second of actual consideration, Apple Bloom answered back, “Ah guess, but ta be honest ah feel like that’s even more fitting as Twilight’s weapon of choice.”
With wide eyes, Rarity looked on with both shock and disgust as the farm filly also elaborated her point.
“She was a science-y type before she became the Princess, so she could definitely make somethin’ like that. Ah can imagine somepony as smart as her unleashin’ this gas on random ponies just so she can sit back and ‘study’ its effects.”
“Ahem!”
All heads turned up to the adult in the room.
“Should I be concerned or have you somehow always been so casual about such… topics?”, she sternly asked.
Even though the mare’s objections were born out of genuine concern, they were equally as routed in her growing disdain for this cruel and barbaric assailant. And she was none too pleased to hear her friends compared to or even mentioned in the same sentence as this fiend. These feelings were all communicated critical stare Rarity fixed upon Apple Bloom. The little earth pony shifted uncomfortably in her seat, deciding to avert eye contact by turning back to the story in front of her. Although, so focused was she on what Apple Bloom had just said that Rarity failed to notice what was going on behind her. Sweetie Belle took the opportunity to elbow the arm of the pony who started this conversation in the first place, Scootaloo, in a near perfect mirror of what happened back at the cottage before they got here; the pegasus barely stifled a pained “gak!”, rubbing her arm while returning the stink eye Sweetie was now giving her.
Whilst officers were en route to the Riders’ address, they were informed that a third incident of a similar nature had also now been reported.
Rarity snapped her head back towards the projection, reading the text on screen to confirm that she had indeed heard that correctly.
Then a similar call made a few days later by a Mrs. Burrell came in about a nightmarish masked figure trying to clamber in through her bedroom window. However, just as they arrived, the police were suddenly faced with an equally bizarre incident unfolding at a neighboring premises.
“My word…”, Rarity whispered, astonished at how insatiable and audacious this mad gasser was to start attacking two homes on the same night like this.
Her mind now racing with all sorts of actions this unpredictable attacker might do next, Rarity let out a nervous gulp and bit her bottom lip. She listened closely to the narrator relay how the Cordes family, who lived across the road from the Burrell house, was by the family dog barking at the front door. Rarity’s dread became mixed with more curiosity when she saw the man of the household, Carl Cordes, step out onto his front porch to investigate while carrying what must have been one of those “hand canons” (or “boomsticks”) she had heard so much about from Twilight after one of her casual trips through the mirror. The way her friend had described with horrific awe how these firearms blew big holes through their practice targets made her uncomfortable trying to imagine what it could do to actual flesh.
When Carl opened the front door to briefly catch sight of the fleeing intruder, the image of him aiming his gun at the crook stirred up conflicting emotions. While it would be a gruesome sight, a part of Rarity hoped that a shot would be landed on this madman just so that he couldn’t hurt anyone else; perhaps just a non-lethal shot to incapacitate him?
Rarity would ultimately have her line of thought cut short when Beulah Cordes joined her husband outside and noticed something on the ground. She spotted what appeared to be a metallic lipstick holder and small white cloth. At this, everypony in the room raised an eyebrow. It would ultimately be Sweetie Belle who posed the obvious question.
“Wait, so was this ‘gasser’ a girl this whole time?”
The cloth was apparently soaked in some kind of unknown chemical. Beulah immediately suffered a violent reaction upon kneeling down to inspect it, her face visibly swelling up as she dropped to the ground and began violently vomiting up a grotesque mixture of blood and bile. Rarity and the girls all started getting a little green at the gills as their minds were forced to conjure up that image for the second or third time. The repeated descriptions of people suffocating, collapsing, gagging, coughing, heaving and puking their guts out was making this a little harder to watch than expected; it even made it feel unsafe to breathe in the air around them.
“Ah really hope these humans didn’t suffer anythin’ serious afterwards.”, Apple Bloom stated, soon joined by various noises of agreement,
Once an ambulance had arrived to treat the stricken Mrs. Cordes, the attending police officers spread out to conduct an extensive search of the area surrounding the household. Lying in the grass a short distance from the door, a small metallic item was located. It was later identified as a well-worn skeleton key.
“Sounds like something that belongs to a necromancer. Or even the Grim Rider!”, Sweetie Belle said before pausing. “Unless…”
“It’s actually a key stripped down to its bare essentials so that it can fit into almost any lock.”, Scootaloo explained.
“Oh.”, Sweetie said as she began rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Though she was outwardly trying to play it cool, she was not only embarrassed but also a little disappointed that her theory that the mad gasser was secretly death in human form had a hole poked in it before she could even share it.
“Where did y’all even hear about a skeleton key, Scootaloo?”, Apple Bloom questioned.
“Yes, that is peculiar.”, Rarity muttered, her suspicious eyes falling upon the pegasus filly. “Was Dash by any chance the one who taught you what that is? Maybe even gave you… first-hoof experience with it?”
Not lost on Rarity’s obviously accusatory tone, Scootaloo tried to respond in a way that didn’t sound incriminating.
“Uh… i-if this is about that time somepony put haybacon grease in your shampoo, I swear I-I had nothing to do with that!”
Keyword: tried.
“Hmm.”
Other than how guilty she looked, the funniest thing about what Scootaloo said was the fact that she shouldn’t have known about it; not if she was innocent, at least. Acting against her instincts, Rarity hadn’t talked to anypony about that incident and had quietly employed her detective skills for months to pin down which of her two main suspects (Pinkie & Rainbow, of course) was the true culprit. So, needless to say, it was suspicious how much this filly knew about that prank. Before Rarity could further question the culprit’s little accomplice, she was compelled to turn back to face the screen again after what the orb said next.
The following night in Mattoon, a further six attacks were reported, once again mainly focused on residences in the North Street Area.
Rarity could practically feel her jaw hit the floor. Here she was thinking that it was foolhardy to attack two neighboring houses on the same night. Yet, here this crazy person was gassing six homes in the same neighborhood before the sun rose. Were they just getting cockier? No, not just cocky; there was an even greater egotistic driving force for upping the attacks, she just knew it.
Apple Bloom apparently held similar sentiments.
“Six!?”, the farm filly exclaimed. “He-or she is poisonin’ that many houses a night!? And for what!?”
“Yeah…”, said a stunned Sweetie Belle. “You actually make a good point. What even is their motive? They haven’t tried to take anything from their houses. And their gas doesn’t even seem lethal, so what’s all this for?”
“Well they did say it was specifically in one neighborhood.”, Scootaloo began. “Maybe they have a grudge against all of their neighbors?”
Speaking of grudges, Scootaloo was also silently relieved that Rarity had already forgotten the newfound one she had against her. Hopefully, she’ll have forgotten it long enough for Scootaloo to warn Rainbow that she was onto them.
At approximately one in the morning, Robert Daniels was awoken by the sounds of metallic scraping coming from somewhere nearby outside his address. When he looked outside his bedroom window, he saw a tall slender figure holding an unidentified metal implement, leaning in through the window of the house next door. Apparently, in the time it took Daniels to make his way outside, the stranger had already vanished. While this phantasmic act by the mad gasser gave all the ponies watching an involuntary shiver, it would be nothing to what Robert caught sight of in the open window. He cried out in horror at the sight of his neighbor, sixty-year-old Fred Gable, lying on the floor of his kitchen coughing and choking uncontrollably. Rarity feared that they may have had the first death in the story, doubting that Gable’s poor old heart could take it. She’d find herself relieved when it was confirmed that Fred not only survived, but apparently had no memory of the incident when he woke up.
“Oh…”, Rarity said in a relieved tone that soon inexplicably grew sour. “Lucky him.”
Sweetie obliviously nodded in agreement, “Thank Celestia he wasn’t hurt!”
While Rarity was happy for Mr. Gable’s safety, that wasn’t what she meant. She’s had her fair share of experiences so infuriating that she was wishing she could forget it entirely by the end, starting with that dreadful first night at the gala. A part of her felt ashamed for how much that memory still vexed her from time to time.
The next evening, the home of the local grade school’s principle, Miss Francine Smith, was attacked as well. She and her sister Maxine had reported hearing a strange buzzing noise on each occasion before a thin blue vapor suddenly wafted into the room.
“I wonder what that buzzing noise actually was? Was the gas cylinder making that sound? No gas cylinder that I’ve seen at parties has ever done that. Now that I think about it, life would probably be so much easier if everything that was about to hurt you made a buzzing sound as a warning…”
While Sweetie Belle’s mind continued to wander aimlessly, the other three started feeling jitterbugs crawling all over them as they listened to how the stranger ominously stared at the paralyzed pair of sisters for quite a while before finally turning away, disappearing into the night.
Scootaloo shivered, “I’m already having enough nightmares about Mothman leering at me through windows. Do I really need more of this?”
By the time Sweetie stopped spacing out, she was just in time to hear how the town of Mattoon had entered a state of hysteria. With police unable to locate the offender, groups of armed citizens began forming to patrol the streets at night.
“Well, that would make me feel a little bit safer if mah town was under attack.”, Apple Bloom said.
Sweetie’s mouth curled slightly downward in uncertainty.
“I don’t know if that’s actually safer. It might actually be less safe.”
“What do you mean?”, Scootaloo incredulously puzzled at her friend’s words. “It’s not like you’d-“
“Shhh!”
Any further words from all three fillies stopped dead in their tracks as their heads turned in the direction their ears were pointing them. They saw the source of the noise, Rarity, leaning forward slightly, engrossed by the video. Her eyes, not even sparing a glance down at the Crusaders, locked onto the image in front of her of a human child lying limp and unconscious on their bedroom floor. Her ears also stood at attention, listening closely as the narrator told how these citizens’ night patrols proved fruitless as the perpetrator carried out twenty five more attacks over a two week period, before it then began talking about the final attack that occurred on September 13th just as FBI agents from the nearby Springfield Office finally arrived in town.
The pegasus turned her sights back to her friend and leaned in closer.
“It’s not like you’d have any reason to be more afraid of them than whatever is attacking the town?”, she whispered.
“It just seems like one step below an angry mob.”, Sweetie Belle explained quietly. “Actually, it could be just as dangerous as one.”
“How?”, whispered Apple Bloom who stuck her head out from her place on Rarity’s left.
“Well, think about it!”, Sweetie began. “How on edge would you be if there was somepony in town attacking ponies in their homes at night and you don’t know who it is? Would you handle it calmly? Mistaken identity and scapegoating is probably bound to happen that way.”
Just when both fillies were readying a retort, they found themselves interrupted by Rarity again; this time by wrapping her hoof around her sister and pulling the filly right up to her side.
For the entirety of the girls’ conversation, Rarity had instead been focusing on the tale reported by the distressed housewife, Burtha Berch. She had described how she went to investigate some strange noises coming from her son’s bedroom, only to discover him lying unconscious on the floor. Equally shocking was the mysterious figure clambering its way out the window. It possessed what was considered a feminine appearance according to the narration, but was clad entirely in male clothing with the exception of high-heeled shoes. However, what most caught the mare’s attention was the face-covering the stranger had on; a mask resembling what Rarity could only as some of anteater or elephant wearing goggles. With her heartbeat taking a major uptick, the unicorn could only imagine worse the terror must have been for Burtha.
Rarity turned her face down to the sister she held close to her, who looked back up at her with a face that was equal parts puzzled and uncomfortable.
“Sweetie, promise me that if you see a prowler out the window or a stranger in your house at night, you’ll immediately come running to mother and father.”, Rarity said before adding, “And if you can’t do that, don’t hesitate to cry for help.”
After she saw Sweetie Belle give a hesitant nod and felt her hoof rubbing her back comfortingly, Rarity hastily added, “Oh! And do remind me to show you the best hiding places and escape routes sometime.”
The whole room went back to quietly watching the story, albeit the awkward miasma still hung over them. They listened as the narrator discussed how the most troubling aspect of Mrs. Burch’s description is that it seemed to indicate that the attacks in Illinois were far from the first time the Mad Gasser had done this.
“Wait, so there have been other places where people have gotten gassed in their own homes?”, Apple Bloom questioned with astonishment clear in her voice.
Rarity couldn’t help but concur.
“Hmm. Twilight once told me that she was drafting plans for everypony in Equestria to flee through the mirror into the human world if the worst case scenario ever comes to pass. Though, I must admit that seeing this makes me wonder if we should just take our chances living under the sea like the hippogriffs did.”
Their line of conversation would halt when they saw the next image on screen of the Mattoon gasser up-close and staring directly in the viewer’s direction. They were finally getting a detailed look at this assailant since the start of the video, and served to make the gasser appear even more foreign in their eyes. There were certain details that were made clear to them now, like how its “trunk” was obviously some sort of breathing tube, as indicated by the occasional bursts of steam it would emit with each breath the stranger took.
Yet, the combination of mask and hood made it practically impossible to get any indicators on whether this was a guy or girl they were looking at. The way the mask’s eye goggles brightly reflected the moonlight also killed any remaining means of gauging the type of person underneath; for all they knew, staring back at them was either a face of cold detachment or predatory malevolence. While Rarity grew unpleasantly tense at the sight of this otherworldly being, Sweetie Belle was struck with a different kind of awe.
“That looks so cool!”
Rarity was snapped out of her horror when she heard her sister’s voice.
Did she just hear that right?
“I know right? Put that face on the cover of an alien invasion comic and I’d buy it in a heartbeat!”, Scootaloo chirped.
“Kinda sucks that this fella is wearin’ it though. His costume looks way cooler than it has any right ta be.”, concluded Apple Bloom.
Hearing these comments only served to slightly befuddle Rarity. Given her life’s passion, she had always automatically associated whatever was “cool” with what was fashionable. So, her mind couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if she was going to get commissions from children to make outfits like… this. The fashionista gave an involuntary shudder when her mind suddenly conjured up the image of a foal wearing that mask calling her “mommy”.
One of the most speculated about aspects of the Mattoon case was the apparent lack of motive for the offender’s actions. The gas that was used never affected a victim for longer than a two-hour period and left no noticeable side effects. The attacker also seemingly never made any effort to harm the victims after they had been rendered immobile. While Rarity believed this point did have merit, she wasn’t quite as ready to rule out violent intent as the narrator was; in all honesty, she would argue that using gas was an act of violence in itself. Finally, there was the fact that nothing was ever stolen and the Mad Gasser rarely ever tried to enter the premises.
“Yeah, that’s the problem!”, Sweetie Belle exclaimed. “Without anything concrete, this gasser could be anyone.”
“Well, anyone in town who’s a grown girl, that is.”
The little unicorn poked her head passed Rarity to get a look at her earth pony friend.
“What do you mean?”, she questioned.
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Apple Bloom began explaining, “Don’t ya remember? They said earlier how this gasser was wearin’ high heels. That clearly narrows the suspects down ta half the population.”
She suddenly heard Scootaloo’s voice to the right mutter, “I dunno…”.
“What do ya mean, ya don’t know?”, Apple Bloom said, looking over Rarity to direct a combination of raised eyebrow and head tilt at her friend.
While this conversation took place, the narrator began describing a somewhat similar yet very different series of attacks in 1935 down in Lake County, Florida; the unknown attacker in that case apparently used flit-gun filled gun medical anesthesia as part of their attempted burglaries.
“Well, they could just be a guy whose wearing the high heels to throw people off.”, suggested the pegasus filly, to which Apple Bloom gave a dismissive eye roll. “Well, think about it! Why would anyone, lady or not, wear high heels to a crime like this? It’s gotta be a pain trying to run away in those!”
Just when the farm filly was readying another retort, Rarity jumped into the conversation.
“I say, Scootaloo, that’s actually a very astute observation! You actually have this one-time detective impressed!”
Scootaloo couldn’t help but smile humbly at the validation.
Mouth hanging open slightly, Apple Bloom was about to voice her objections at the adult in the room taking her friend’s side, Rarity then suddenly turned to her and said, “Though, Apple Bloom, I am surprised that you of all ponies would be arguing against this point.”
When Apple Bloom gave her a questioning look, Rarity continued, “I mean, you certainly have become a little familiar with seeing a stallion dressed like a mare.”
With widening eyes that looked off to the side, Apple Bloom said, “Ah’m not sure what ya mean there.”
Giving a knowing stare, the mare shook her head as she smiled back, “Dear, I know all about your time with ‘Orchard Blossom’ at the last Sisterhooves Social.”
Catching in Rarity’s tone the air quotes put around her “cousin’s” name, Apple Bloom winced back slightly.
“Oh… ya have?”
Despite everypony’s eyes focusing on their discussion, each of them still had one ear turned to the orb, listening as it began talking about another bizarre series of events in 1933 rural Virginia resembling the attacks in Mattoon.
“Why, of course darling! Everypony in town knows about that! Besides, do you think I’d never find out what one of my fellow pony tones was up to?”
It was when she noticed the farm filly’s eyes looking bashfully to the floor that the mare chose to place a hoof on the little one’s shoulder.
“Now, now. There’s no need to feel embarrassed for him! If anything, I’d love to see more stallions unafraid to show off how well they pull off a dress like that!”
“That is true. Your brother really did look surprisingly comfortable dressed as a mare.”, Sweetie pointed out. “Where could he have gotten the practice for that?”
Her older sister’s suddenly scrunched up, “Oh! That’s… entirely my doing! Yes!”
The mare’s hasty and slightly frantic tone earned her some strange looks from the girls.
“Branching out my business nationwide means I’m going to sell to costumers of all shapes and sizes, you know.”, she clarified. “But I didn’t have any mares in town of that size and well… he was willing to help!”
Of course, this was a blatant lie, but she had to keep her promise to Big Mac to never let word get out to anypony about his past “exploits” with Toe Tapper.
All eyes turned back to the crystal ball as it told of how thirteen different households in total reported being attacked by mysterious assailants in possession of gas producing equipment, the bulk of which occurred in Botetort County. Unlike the Mattoon case, the intruders were usually chased away from the household before their gas could take effect. Most intriguing was the police reports stating there were at least two to four perpetrators involved.
“Huh.”, Scootaloo blankly stated. “You’d think the more help you have, the easier it’d be to pull off.”
Rarity wanted to respond to what the little pegasus said, but wasn’t sure whether to agree with her or not. Yes, she’s helped save the world numerous times through teamwork and the “power of friendship. But she’s had lots of experiences that make her want to say that the more grand scale and the more parties are involved, the more ways a plan can go wrong. Actually, she felt as though that was secondary to the question of how several people agreed to go along with this. If there really wasn’t any financial incentive just like in the Mattoon attacks, then the mastermind behind this had to have somehow known where to look for like-minded individuals who also want to gas people for the sake of it. Was there some sort of secret forum or convention where all the agents of discord gathered together and plotted their schemes? It was at the moment Rarity hoped that Discord really couldn’t read minds. She’d hate to give him the idea to start his own convention after he peeking inside her head.
The narrator began pointing out the clear differences between the events in Virginia and Illinois. Examples included the offenders in Virginia fleeing the scene in a motor vehicle and occasionally trying to barricade their victims in their homes. Though it must be noted how the reports of mask-wearing females amongst the attackers and high-heeled footprints recovered from the scene drew a striking similarity to the Mattoon attacks, much to Apple Bloom’s satisfaction.
Still, it remained to be seen whether these two sets of incidents can ever be successfully linked. It is entirely possible that the gas attacks in Virginia could have been the first experimental efforts of one or more serial offenders, some of whom would eventually find their way to Illinois over a decade later. It was also possible that someone Mattoon researched the incidents in Botetourt County, before carrying out their own copycat attacks. While Apple Bloom much preferred the former, an author named Scott Maruna published a book on the mad gasser attacks which supported the latter hypothesis. After extensive research, Maruna posited that an antisocial local misfit named Farley Llewellyn was the true culprit. His reasoning was that Llewellyn supposedly had an unhealthy fascination with harmful and noxious substances.
Rarity grimaced at that.
“Ugh… I can clearly imagine the types of jokes Pinkie and Rainbow would be making if they were her right now.”
The mare began shaking the memory out of her consciousness, almost missing the narrator further explain how many of the targeted households contained either Farley’s teachers or classmates. Despite this, the Mattoon Police Department came to a vastly different conclusion for what was happening in their town. In the aftermath of the attacks, Chief of Police C.E. Cole released a statement declaring the incidents to be the result of an accidental chemical leakage from the nearby Atlas-Imperial manufacturing plant.
Mouth and eyes wide open in a perfect representation of how baffled she was, Rarity weakly said, “Um.. pardon?”
Of course, the company was quick to dismiss this, pointing out that no employees had ever reported suffering any similar harmful effects from exposure. Chief Cole then went so far as to claim the mad gasser had never actually existed and that the town had actually experienced a case of mass hysteria.
Pushing through her own state of stunned silence, Apple Bloom spoke up.
“How the hay is that the explanation!?”
“You’ve got to love those local police...”, Sweetie Belle dryly commented.
Regardless of the audience’s disbelief, the narrator still tried to substantiate the Cole’s claim. He pointed out how there have been tons of famous cases where communities suffered from strange symptoms and unknown afflictions that were traced back to one key event. Recent examples included several employees at the US embassy in Havana claiming to be victims of some kind of “sonic attacks” and viral outbreaks of inexplicable fainting at a girl’s school in Malaysia.
“Ah thought Miss Rarity would be the only one dramatic enough ta imagine her own symptoms into existence.”, Apple Bloom thought to herself.
“Didn’t they also say last time that the ghost of the Virgin Mary was some sort of ‘mass hysteria’?”, Scootaloo asked. “I remember it being almost as dumb that time too.”
Rarity was both lost as to what Scootaloo was talking about and cringing somewhat at how casually the word “virgin” left her lips. Had she really once again failed to notice how much her sister and her friends have matured?
“I want to believe it too, but… now that I think about what Lucia’s mom had to say about her… maybe I shouldn’t.”, Sweetie said with a sigh.
Much to her surprise, Rarity was actually quickly getting sick of being left out of the loop here.
“Should I ask her what that was all about?”, she wondered.
Meanwhile, Cole explained that he believed the idea of phantom gas attacks within the community had been planted by the initial incident reported by Aline Kearney, and in the aftermath of that report, suddenly every odd symptom or illness in the town was attributed to this so-called “mad gasser”. Hence, they fell into a state of paranoia where they mistook any shadow or movement they saw for a sinister attacker.
“Oh, that is absolute rubbish!”, Rarity grouched.
“How do ya ignore both the footprints and that cloth that got Mrs. Cordes sick!?”, exclaimed Apple Bloom.
With a roll of her eyes, Scootaloo joined in the mockery, “These cops couldn’t find water in the middle of a lake if you asked them to.”
The narrator then insisted on the importance of considering America’s social landscape at the time of the Mattoon gassings. After three years of being at war and being told by the government and media to be on alert for enemy agents and invaders, the population was primed to fear and report any remotely suspicious activity.
Scootaloo couldn’t hold the back the frown creeping onto her face as she recalled for the second day in a row Ocellus’ personal account of her hive’s former obsession with security. Three whole hours of interrogation by Pharynx the bad cop and Thorax the good cop that was too meek to step in. And for what? For staying overnight at a Minotaur family’s home whose village she had been assigned to gather intel on for a day instead of returning to the hive when she was supposed to. Even though she explained several times that there was a storm that made it impossible for her to head back and insisting on doing it anyway might’ve blown her cover.
As the story continued, the narrator considered the possibility that the gasser was indeed some sort of Japanese agent or sympathizer.
“I thought they mentioned at the beginning there was a German POW on the loose, not Japanese...?”, Sweetie Belle puzzled. “Though, I guess they did once mention that they were partners with Germany.”
In 1942, a Japanese biplane successfully bombed targets in the state of Oregon. And at the time of the attacks in Mattoon, the Japanese army were in the process of ten thousand firebomb balloons in the hope of causing damage to the US mainland. Naturally, Rarity was shocked and repulsed that someone would utilize balloons in such a capacity, wondering if this type of lunacy characterized the rest of the Second World War as well. While the Crusaders, considering what they learned after watching “The New York Nuke”, were simply baffled that this was ever attempted.
“That didn’t actually work, did it?”, Scootaloo quietly asked herself.
“If Germany apparently couldn’t make it through with their fancy planes, how in Equestria did the Japanese think they could pull this off with balloons?”, Apple Bloom pondered with her head tilted to the side.
Sweetie Belle merely sat there with both eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised in judgement.
“If this is the best they had to offer, then I think we know who was the backbone in their partnership with Germany.”
An even more unusual suggestion that is favored by conspiracy theorists was that the US government secretly perpetrated these attacks against their own people as a means of testing a new experimental chemical weapon.
Rarity gawked at this.
“What sort of scoundrels are ruling this country!?”, she practically bellowed before giving a contemptuous scoff. “Perhaps I was too quick to judge earlier. I should’ve been routing for the enemies of this ‘U.S.’ to come in and liberate its people.”
An awkward inhaling hiss drew Rarity’s attention down to her sister fixing with a knowing yet uncomfortable gaze, something that was shared by her friends.
“Yeah… about that…”, Sweetie Belle began.
“…what’s wrong?”, the mare questioned.
As Sweetie still kept quiet, Apple Bloom picked the conversation back up.
“Not ta get too into it, let’s just say those other countries America was fightin’ were actually doin’ worse stuff than this.”, she answered. “At least… one of them was.”
“…oh my.”
Suddenly, Rarity remembered Twilight telling her all about how Sunset and their human counterparts are supposed to have begun growing into their roles as that world’s version of the Elements. By all appearances, they were probably going to have a tough journey ahead of them if they were to be tasked with bringing harmony to this world of “Earth”.
If there was one consolation from this, it was the supposed lack of any evidence of the U.S. government ever did such a thing. But if it wasn’t that, then what did happen during those two terrifying weeks in Mattoon? Japanese wonder weapons? Or even alien visitors? The physical evidence at the crime scenes and the victim’s very real sickness seemed to rule out Cole’s theory of mass psychosis for sure.
That last part wasn’t the only thing the narrator and Rarity agreed on. Whoever this mysterious attacker was, there was no doubt that they sought to cause as much chaos and confusion as possible. Much like how she had always been attracted to her career path’s promise of fame and stardom, Rarity could see in this mad gasser something similar. A desire for a legacy, one born from infamy. She could tell that this clearly unwell person derived so much joy from the fact that he’d be like a ghost haunting the minds of several generations of Mattoon’s residents; probably felt powerful for it.
She wondered how much love and attention was this wretch denied in order to make them who they are. Then again, it only took her childhood friend moving away to turn Starlight into a cult leader who once risked the entire multiverse, so who’s to say this person didn’t need any help becoming a monster? And if that were true, would there be any saving them?
Rarity halted the line of thought there; she shouldn’t start thinking like that.
Thankfully, major scientific and technological advancements have made baffling incidents such as this increasingly rare. Though that didn’t keep the narrator from stressing to the audience that they should never think twice about keeping their windows closed.
“Oh trust me, I wouldn’t dream of it at this point.”, Scootaloo thought to herself grimly.
Still, the pegasus filly had to admit that she did feel satisfied by what turned out to be another interesting, spooky story. This same feeling made brought a smile to Sweetie’s face, knowing that her friends had as good of a time watching it as she did. However, that smile unfortunately fizzled out as she remembered that it wasn’t her friends’ opinions that mattered right now. She tentatively looked upward to see her sister’s reaction, but the look on her face proved near impossible to read. Weirdly, Sweetie was able to catch hints of pity and disgust on Rarity’s face, the cause of which she could only guess; her expression was otherwise a cocktail of varying different feelings, whether they were good or bad ones, she couldn’t tell.
“So…”, she awkwardly began. “What did you think?”
Rarity’s attention was pulled down to her sister who sat there looking up at her, anticipation clear on her face.
After a moment of consideration, Rarity finally answered, “Well, I can say that watching this came with a lot of surprises.”
“Good surprises?”, Apple Bloom chirped.
“Hmmm, a few.”, she replied. “I certainly wasn’t expecting it to be so, well, high quality.”
All three fillies visibly perked up at that.
“Whoever the illustrator is, they really need to branch out to even bigger things, they’re drawing is too fabulously detailed to only be seen here.”, she elaborated with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh how well they can draw a moonlit field!”
Her smile faltered right then and there, “Though I do wish they would add some color to really makes these pictures pop. I also have some complaints about the interior designs…”
Sweetie braced herself for a boring, long-winded list
“But, honestly that wasn’t the biggest surprise.”, she stated, halting her tangent before it could actually begin. “It was actually you girls who took by surprise more than anything.”
“Wait, we surprised you?”, Sweetie then asked.
“Absolutely! I’m truly impressed by the level of maturity you demonstrated.”, Rarity said with a warm smile in the face of her sister’s surprise. “Here you were talking about what the merits and dangers of citizen patrols.”
Sweetie Belle gave a solemn nod as she imagined Ponyville going through something like this; she privately wondered and feared what all her neighbors might be capable of if they got consumed by paranoia.
“Meanwhile, my mind is preoccupied with the fact that all the houses in this story are so minimalist and samey.”, her big sister continued. “Or sitting here dumbstruck looking at that mask the gasser was wearing.”
“Yeah, it looked wicked!”, said Scootaloo.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it. I must admit that the way you described it earlier as something belonging on a sci-fi cover is very apt. I’ve never seen something so… otherworldly.”
“Yeah, it sure is.”, Sweetie said before readying herself to ask her big sister the million-bit question. “So Rarity, are you finally okay with us watch-“.
She was unable to finish her question upon looking up at Rarity. The mare was staring straight forward, as if she could now see something the other three couldn’t; a vision that was gradually materializing before her eyes. Whatever it was, it soon brought her out of her slack-jawed stupor, replaced by a wide smile. None of the Crusaders got a chance to ask Rarity what was with her before they all saw her suddenly spring off the couch and snatch the crystal ball off the table.
“Ideaaaaa!!!”, she said as she bursted through the door out of the room.
Eventually getting up to follow her, the trio of fillies walked into the room. Before their eyes was a white and purple blur zipping back and forth across the room, chattering to itself all the while as it trampled through every crumpled paper wad in its path that were accumulated over the past few fruitless days of designing. Following the speeding Rarity everywhere she went were a various assortment of tools, kits and materials held in her magic. In fact, yet another box full of desired items was also being floated off the shelf and, unknowingly, right in the direction of the three fillies, only to of whom were able to notice it just in time to duck underneath.
“Ow!”, Sweetie Belle yelped upon feeling her head knocked by box, which wasn’t even remotely slowed down by the collision.
Sweetie Belle turned to scowl at both of her friends for neglecting to give her a “heads up”, to which they could only wordlessly respond with sheepish shrugs.
Rarity, finally having halted her pacing, was too wrapped up in the sketches she was drawing in her notepad to notice what had just happened.
“Oooh, what how can I add just the right amount of flair?”, she mumbled to herself as she scribbled on the paper. “What to do, what to do? Hmmm, perhaps adding some brass buttons wouldn’t hurt? Now, where did I put them last?”
“Hey, Rarity!”
The mare yelped and nearly dropped all of the she was carrying in her surprise after two green eyes suddenly popped into her line of sight; thankfully her concentration was enough that she still held both items in her magic. Backing up, Rarity finally got a look at her little standing right in front of her and greeting her with an expectant look.
“Uh… yes, Sweetie?”, she finally said back.
“Well, I was just thinking that since you liked that story so much, you could… I don’t know…”, she began reaching for the crystal ball held in Rarity’s magic. “Maybe let us have this back.”
Rarity pulled the orb away from her sister’s reach and said, “I-I still need some time to think about that. Why don’t you three go upstairs until then. I’m sure you have plenty of work that you must get started on by now.”
She set her notepad on a nearby table and began heading for some shelves on the other side of the room.
“Now where did I put those buttons?”
Suddenly, she was halted by something latching onto her leg and anchoring her into place. Getting over he initial shock, Rarity grew livid when she looked behind her and saw her little sister clinging to one of her hind legs.
“Sweetie- (*grunt) what in Equestria do you think you’re doing!?”, Rarity screeched.
“You made a promise! If I show you that we can handle stuff like that, then you’d let us have the orb back!”, the filly asked.
“I know what I said, but-“
“Well, you just admitted that we proved how we’re mature enough to watch these stories. So, a deal’s a deal, right?”, she interrupted, continuing to press the issue much to Rarity’s frustration.
“Listen here, young lady! Not only is what you’re doing show that you’re still much too immature, it’s also starting to convincing me that I should skip everything and just ground you right now!”
“Go ahead, it won’t make a difference! Thanks to the rain, I’ll still be stuck inside for the whole week either way!”, the filly countered without hesitation.
“Alright, that’s it! You’re getting sent upstairs unless you let go in 3… 2-“
The mare was interrupted yet again by two more bodies clinging on to her front hoof and other hind leg; looking down, she saw Sweetie Belle’s friends have grabbed ahold of her as well.
Rarity, of course, helplessly gawked at the sight.
“Not you girls too!”
She began trying to pry them off with her magic.
“You all realize I can (*grunt) tell all your caretakers about what you’re doing when they come back, right? (*grunt) You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Try as she might, no matter how hard she pulled their iron tight grips would not give. It became apparent that her threats would have no effect either, as she saw how defiantly they looked back up at her. Rarity let out an impatient groan. There was no telling how long these were willing to keep this up for and she really, really didn’t have the time to find out. Realizing that a different approach was in order, she took in a deep breath and released all remaining tension with a deep sigh.
“Alright, girls. You had better start listening, because I will only make this offer once.”, she said. “If you let go of me right now, I’ll let you use this orb for the rest of the week. So, long as you always complete your homework first!”
The fillies all broke out into smiles; each one of them immediately dislodged from Rarity’s legs to gather together.
“Yeah!”, they cried out as they gave a each other a group hoof bump in celebration.
Rarity smiled in relief, “Now, that being said, I still need to borrow this for the rest of the day.”
“Whaaat!?”, the trio chorused in disbelief.
“Ah-ah-ah! Don’t give me that!”, the mare answered back disapprovingly. “All things considered, I can say with confidence that this is the most generous offer I can reasonably give you.”
As much as they grumbled at the way Rarity subtly flexed her authority as bearer of the Element of Generosity, they recognized the truth in what she said. They’ve already gotten to see one story for today. They’ve also gotten into the habit of doing their homework before enjoying their free time, so that wasn’t an outlandish demand for them either. Plus, show could they possibly turn down an offer that includes letting them have the crystal ball for the rest of the week? There’s no better time to take what they can get.
Begrudgingly, Sweetie Belle finally responded.
“Okay.”
This was immediately followed other two humbly saying, “Thanks, Miss Rarity.”
“That’s better. Now head upstairs, I’m sure you three still have much to get started on.”
After watching the girls get their stuff and head to the stairs without saying another word, the fashionista went back to what she was doing. After getting all her materials together, she rewound the story back to the close up of the gasser’s mask, the sight of which now made her beam with excitement. Those girls really should count themselves lucky that they, by complete accident, helped her discover the face of her Phantom.
Upstairs, the girls were just getting their homework out of their backpacks; realizing there was no better time than right now, Apple Bloom turned and called out to Sweetie Belle.
“Hey, Sweetie?”
“Yeah?”, the unicorn questioned back.
The farm filly looked her friend right in the eye and said, “Ah just wanted ta say, that was a gutsy thing ya did back there. Ah still can’t believe ya managed ta convince yer sister ta watch a story with us!”
“I’ll say!”, Scootaloo joined in. “How come you’ve suddenly been showing so much nerve, lately?”
Sweetie rubbed the back of her head as she answered, “I guess I was just having too much fun with you guys that I wasn’t ready for this to end. Figured it would be better to at least try getting one last story to watch together.”
She paused before quickly adding, “That, and you girls have probably started rubbing off on me.”
“Well, it’s not like I can blame you. Who wouldn’t want to take after me?”, Scootaloo said with a smirk that instinctually made Sweetie role her eyes; she wouldn’t normally describe her pegasus friend as a try-hard, but there was probably no better label for her in moments like this where she clearly was imitating Rainbow Dash.
Apple Bloom looked on at Sweetie with a remorseful gaze, the guilt she felt rapidly building up in her causing some hesitation, though she quickly pushed through to say, “Listen. Sweetie, ah really wanna say ah’m sorry for tattlin’ on ya like that.”
Scootaloo immediately realized what her friend was talking about and hung her head in shame as she also apologized.
“Y-yeah, it was pretty uncool of us. Doesn’t help that I probably set a record for how fast it took for somepony to rat out their friend.”
“Yeah. We didn’t mean ta make things worse for ya. We were just scared of gettin’ in trouble.”, Apple Bloom stated. “Still, that ain’t no excuse for throwin’ ya under the apple cart like that. So… ya forgive us?”
Truth be told, Sweetie Belle was legitimately taken aback by this; that was entirely because, with everything that happened since, she had totally forgotten about it.
“Well… even though both of you told on me, you did also stick by me when I demanded Rarity to let us have the orb back afterwards.”, she answered with a reassuring smile. “So, how about we just agree that you’ve already made up for it?”
The other two grinned, relief plain to see in their expressions.
“You got it!”, Scootaloo replied.