“So lemme get this straight.” Applejack ran her hands over her costume’s woolen skirts. “You just happened to have a costume in my exact size, and that costume just happens to match yours.” The two chatted as they strolled down the street, a few yards behind Rainbow Dash and the younger girls, who were already buzzing with sugar-fueled energy. With the sun down, the suburban street swarmed with costumed revelers, dressed as various monsters, superheroes, and so on. Or, in Applejack’s case, as 17th century French peasantry.
“Quite convenient, don’t you think?” Rarity said.
“Yeah. Convenient.” Applejack fiddled with the cuffs of her linen shirt.
“Honestly, I don’t see what you’re complaining about. This is the same sort of rustic farmwear you wear on a daily basis-- just, you know, the style’s just a few centuries older. So you’re a rustic peasant girl instead of a rustic cattle rancher. It suits you!”
“If you say so.” Applejack mused. “At least it’s better than, like, just booty shorts and a funny headband. It’s too cold to go runnin’ round as a sexy catgirl or a sexy devil or sexy mailman or whatever.”
“I concur.” The plume of Rarity’s hat bobbed as she nodded. “Such lazy costuming is beneath the both of us. Not to mention the fact that I’ve made it a point every Halloween to never dress up as anything that I wouldn’t mind being transformed into on account of magical chicanery.”
“That’s … not a bad idea, with some of the stuff we’ve had to deal with.” Applejack mulled the thought over, then furrowed her brow in suspicion. “Except for the part where I’m all damsel-y, and you’re the one with a sword. What am I s’posed to do if that kinda magical nonsense goes down?”
“Worry not, fair maiden!” Rarity struck a heroic pose with her cape thrown back and a hand on the hilt of her replica rapier. “Rarity d’Aubigny, master swordswoman, shall protect you!
Applejack smiled again. “You’re really into that costume, huh?”
“Just, ah, getting in character.” Rarity tilted the brim of her hat down in an effort to conceal the blush in her cheeks. “Though perhaps not as much as some of our party. Look.”
Up ahead, Scootaloo started clicking her crab-claws in time to a song.
“Crabulous! Crabulous!”
“It is going to grab-you-lous!”
“Breaking laaaaaws!”
“With it’s claaaaaws!”
Applejack blinked. “You think she made that song up, or memorized it from one of them rubber suit movies?”
“I’m not sure if I want to know. But at least she’s having fun.” Rarity paused, worrying at her lower lip. “You … are having fun, aren’t you, Applejack?”
“Uh, yeah? I mean, I ain’t much for costumes, and honestly too much chocolate gives me a stomachache, but it’s always nice spending time with you.” Applejack nudged Rarity’s elbow and smiled.
“You mean it?” Rarity brightened. “You’re not just humoring me, are you?”
“You know me, sugarcube. If I had a problem, you’d know about it.”
“There’s something to be said for bluntness, true.” After a moment’s hesitation, Rarity slipped her arm through the crook of Applejack’s elbow. “But even still, thank you for coming along.”
“Aw shucks, ain’t nothing.”
“But it is something.” Rarity squeezed Applejack’s arm tighter. “It’s--”
“Hey! What’s taking you guys so long?” Rainbow Dash shouted at them from a few yards ahead. “You guys better hurry up, or else we’re gonna ditch you so we can actually get candy!”
“Yeah! Slowpokes!” Scootaloo clanked her claws in a vaguely rebellious manner.
“If you positively can’t wait for us, perhaps it’d be for the better if you went ahead?” Rarity said.
Applejack leaned in close, voice low enough so only Rarity could hear. “You sure it’s a good idea to turn them loose like that?”
“Our sisters will be fine. They’ve still got Rainbow Dash to keep an eye on them.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Hurry up!” Rainbow Dash waved her foam rubber claws back and forth. “GARGANTULON HUNGERS!”
“I see your point.” Rarity said. And so, however reluctantly, she slid her arm away from Applejack’s so she could quicken her pace. They were, after all, on a mission.
The next few hours went by in a sugary blur. Despite her clumsy centipede costume, Rainbow Dash managed to stay at the head of the pack, leading her friends from one house to the next in order to collect as much candy as possible. The night grew darker, their candy bags grew heavier, and Scootaloo eventually ran out of verses of the Crabulous song (which, incidentally, never used the word “fabulous,” despite easy rhyme). But they’d managed to collect the candy tithe from every house in the neighborhood.
Except for one.
“Check it out!” Rainbow Dash pointed a claw at the dark and dilapidated two-story perched on a hill at the end of the street. With its peeling shingles, crooked siding, and sagging porch beams, the house looked like it could barely stay upright. A chill breeze carried dried leaves across the abandoned house’s lawn like miniature tumbleweeds and made the two-story creak. “It’s the murder house!”
“The what?” Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo all gasped in wide-eyed unison.
“Rainbow Dash!” Applejack scolded. “Don’t go tellin’ them fake stories now.”
“It’s true! I heard that, like, a long time ago, some guy kidnapped a bunch of Trick or Treaters and then ground them up into meat pies and then he gave the people-pies to other Trick or Treaters. And then they died! On Halloween!”
Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo all clung together, trembling.
“Honestly, Rainbow.” Rarity huffed. “Who gives out meat pies on Halloween?”
“And how’d a guy have time to kidnap some kids, go all cannibal on ‘em, and then get other Trick or Treaters all in one night? Baking pies takes time.” Applejack rubbed at her chin, thinking. “Even if he prepped the dough beforehand, it’d still take a couple of hours to get it all put together. And then you gotta let the pies cool or else they’ll fall apart when you try to put ‘em in somebody’s bag of goodies.”
“Come on you guys! You’re ruining my story!”
“And you’re scaring my sister.” Applejack started rolling up the sleeves of her peasant dress.
Rarity, meanwhile, pulled her phone out of a pocket concealed within her doublet. Its screen illuminated her face as she typed with her thumbs. “Not to mention the fact that, despite the salaciousness of your story, I can’t find a single true crime podcast about it, or even a streaming documentary. So I’m inclined to believe it never happened.”
“Ugh.” Rainbow Dash shook her mandibled head. “You guys are no fun. But I’m telling you, something terrible and scary and stuff happened here. Why else do you think it’s abandoned?”
“A bankruptcy stemming from the housing bubble?” Rarity offered. “Which … is somewhat scary, I admit, but in a more ‘existential dread stemming from late stage capitalism’ sort of way.”
“Exi-whatnow?” Sweetie Belle tilted her head to the side, confused.
“Nothing you need to worry about anytime soon, darling.” Rarity patted her little sister on her tiara’d head.
“Oh yeah?” Rainbow Dash leaned forward and waggled a foam claw in Rarity’s face. “If you think that house isn’t scary, I dare you to go up and ring the doorbell!”
“Ain’t nobody gotta prove nothin’ here.” Applejack narrowed her eyes and stepped between the swashbuckler and the centipede. “So why don’t we all just pack up and go home? It’s getting late.”
“It’s alright, Applejack.” Rarity pulled herself up taller and cracked a smile. “Rarity d’Aubigny fears no building. Not to mention that if we don’t follow through with this Rainbow Dash will never shut up about it.”
“I won’t!” Rainbow Dash chimed in.
“Besides, in all likelihood, there’s probably just some lonely old lady living in that house who doesn’t get out much because everyone thinks she’s scary, but then we’ll brighten up her night and then we’ll all learn a lesson about friendship or something. It’ll be quite wholesome.” Rarity nodded.
“That’s … surprisingly likely, with the kinda stuff we deal with.” Applejack rubbed at her chin, thoughtful. “But whatever happens, you ain’t going alone, Sugarcube.”
“How gallant!” Rarity squealed in anticipation.
“Somethin’ like that. But before ya get any other … ideas, better letcha know that Rainbow Dash is coming too.” She threw an arm around Rainbow Dash’s carapaced shoulders, and leaned in close. “Unless you’re too yellow.”
“I’m not yellow!” Rainbow Dash huffed. “Like, I guess I can go with you guys as moral support. Or something.”
“Perfect.” Applejack’s grin grew a little wider. “’cause if Mr. Meat Pie Man or whoever really is lurking in that house, figure he’ll catch you first, since you can’t really run in that there worm costume.”
“Wait, what?” Rainbow Dash squeaked-- but before she could protest any further, Rarity closed in on the opposite side of Rainbow Dash, penning her in.
“What a marvelous idea! Sweetie Belle, you and your friends stay here at the curb-- we’ll wave you over if it’s a nice old lady.”
“And run screaming if it ain’t.” Applejack added on.
Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo nodded in agreement, clumping together at the curb.
Rainbow Dash wriggled in her centipede costume. “Hey guys, maybe--”
“Shall we, ladies?” Rarity said, and with that the three of them marched across the unkempt lawn, up to the possibly-a-murder-house. As they neared the abandoned building, it seemed to grow taller, almost as if it were leaning forward in a slow-motion effort to devour the trio. Another chill wind rolled through, enough to make even Rainbow Dash shiver beneath her pounds and pounds of foam rubber costume.
“So, uh.” Rainbow Dash murmured, “I might have made that murder house stuff up.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ya think?”
“Then what’s the issue?” Rarity said.
“I mean, uh. Maybe it’s not Mr. Meat Pie Man, but you ever wonder if there’s like, some magic monster from the pony dimension just waiting behind that door to eat our brains or something?” Rainbow Dash tried, and failed, to keep a quaver out of her voice.
“That … might actually happen, with some of the stuff we’ve had to deal with.” Applejack said.
“Then deal we shall!” Rarity said, spurred on by her heroic costume and the not inconsiderable amount of sugar she’d consumed during the evening’s festivities. She strode onto the porch first, and the aging floorboards creaked beneath her boots. Applejack followed, hauling Rainbow Dash along with her. The old porch blocked what scant moonlight was available, plunging the trio into near-darkness. Undaunted, Rarity lunged forward like a fencer, jabbing the doorbell with her finger.
Nothing happened.
Rarity waited a moment, then pushed the doorbell again. And again. And again. Still, nothing. She frowned. “Well. That was anticlimactic.”
“Doorbell’s busted. Ain’t surprised. Might as well go for the direct approach.” Applejack reached forward to knock on the door--
--which was when Rainbow Dash started screaming.