//------------------------------// // Bad Omens // Story: CMC Watch Bedtime Stories // by Lord Blundergosh //------------------------------// The silent, lifeless atmosphere of Ponyville Schoolhouse was like a protective bubble encasing the building until, much like a needle, an outsider pierced through its exterior by way of the window; the sounds of shattered glass sprinkling the floor and desks toppling over from upstairs signified the worst possible omens for the basement dweller below. Somepony looking for a place of refuge in a small town like Ponyville would only have so many options. Yet, even if all choices were exhausted, it probably wouldn’t cross their minds to eye up Cheerilee’s Schoolhouse for sanctuary. But a filly desperately in need of a place to hide from the terror above didn’t have the luxury to be picky. Might as well go with whatever was nearby; didn’t hurt if the place also reminded her of times where her life felt safer, regardless of how dark and decrepit a hiding place this printing room was. Now that she heard the monster’s talons knocking the ceiling from above with each step it took, she realized now that any chance of safety hinged entirely on this thing neglecting to check the basement door. Scootaloo was doing everything she could to get her frantic mind to figure out a way to barricade the door without letting the creature know she was down here. Whatever semblance of concentration she was mustering was immediately scattered by a raspy, otherworldly shriek that forced the filly to clench her jaw, close her eyes and cover her ears. For an incomprehensibly long time, the noise dragged on in the same way a blade gets dragged and scraped across a sheet of metal, cutting through the air non-stop without a pause for breath. It took Scootaloo a moment to realize that the noise wasn’t actually causing the entire building to rattle, only her. The only sound she could hear clearly over the Mothman’s cry was her heart beat pulsing throughout her body and head. As the shriek still didn’t letup, Scootaloo kept her eyes closed. Powerless as she was, the filly did the only thing that was safe for her to do right now. She stayed still and slid her hooves off her ears to start slowly running them through her mane. All the while, she took in as much air as her lungs would allow and subsequently exhaled just as much. Whilst repeating this deep breathing exercise like clockwork, Scootaloo tried her best to imagine she was somewhere, anywhere besides here. Celestia knew she was doing her best to ignore never ending screech. Just when it seemed like her efforts might pay off, the next breath she drew forced into a fit of couching and gagging. Her body suddenly seemed to reject the air in the room as she struggled to breathe through the assailing scent of smoke and taste of soot. Coming to her senses, Scootaloo swiftly drove a hoof to her muzzle to stifle the coughs, lest she risk giving her location away to her pursuer. However, opening her teary eyes revealed a whole threat; peering through the thin veil of smoke showed that what once was a pitch black room had become brightly lit in yellow and orange. Frantically looking darting her head in every direction, Scootaloo’s mind could only keep confirming what all her senses were screaming at her. The room was on fire. Flames had not only consumed much of the walls and wooden banister, but they’ve already begun to reach some of the furniture and equipment, even the printer. One hoof still cupped over her muzzle, the filly deliriously sprinted between whichever were still safe, relatively speaking. She looked over to the stairs that lead her down here only to find them already miraculously taken by the inferno. The sight of that would’ve made her lose herself to panic if she hadn’t remembered something else: windows. Sure enough, a quick scan of her surroundings found a window on one side of the room, big enough for her to get through but unfortunately left shut. “And it’s out of reach!” Looking behind her, Scootaloo saw the chief editor’s desk and chair, by all appearances still intact. Without hesitation, she bolted to that side of the room and grabbed that chair by its arm, dragging it from its spot behind the desk and navigating it through the accumulating wreckage. The filly freely choked out some coughs the likes of which she hadn’t made even on her worst sick days. Once she reached the spot below the window, Scootaloo steadily climbed onto the seat, now high enough to reach the latch. After quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, as soon as she opened the window she was forced to wave off the smoke that suddenly rushed past her to billow into the open air outside. Desperate, yet determined eyes gazing up at the opening above, she squatted down as far as she could from her launch space on the seat. Muscles ready and wings fluttering, she leapt as high as she could and grabbed onto the windowsill. Immediately, the filly started yanking herself up to crawl through the opening. However, just as she was halfway through, Scootaloo felt the window suddenly close onto, likely after one of her squirming hind legs accidentally kicked over the latch. Locked into place, instinct took over as once again her wings flapped as quickly and rapidly as possible in an effort to pry herself out of her spot. Yet try as she might, her underdeveloped wings proved every bit as useless as they always were. In a panic, Scootaloo pawed at the ground, trying to get away from the scalding heat that she felt getting closer and closer. She then drew in a deep breath of fresh air only to expel it all in a last ditch cry for help. The body stirred in its chair until the intake of smoke made the filly spring to life with a coughing fit. Getting her bearings, Scootaloo turned her sights to the cloud of smoke wafting from the stove to fill the whole empty space of the room. Wait, why was she alone? The moment Scootaloo realized nopony else was in the room, from the corner of her eye she saw a geyser of orange and yellow erupting into the air. With a shriek, the filly tumbled backward out of her chair. She hesitantly popped her head from behind the table. Turns out whatever lay in the frying pan must have been sitting unattended for who knows how long if the fire was any indication. The flames hadn’t died down whilst Scootaloo began searching through the closet or even after Scootaloo pulled out a bucket and filled it in the sink. By the time she was hoisting the bucket above her head to douse the fire, the smoke clouds spreading out from the stove had consumed a third of the room. The coughing fit this gave Scootaloo made her grip and balance lapse for only a moment before she immediately dumped the water onto the stove. The outbreak of steam and sizzling hisses that followed marked the moment the fire was vanquished, but unfortunately that hadn’t forced the smoke cloud to dissipate quite yet. Finally allowing herself to drop the bucket to the floor, Scootaloo put a hoof to her muzzle as she freely let loose a stream of suffocated coughs. With tears starting to form in her eyes, the filly hobbled out of the kitchen, still coughing. Waiting for the smoke in the kitchen to clear out, Scootaloo stood between the room’s entrance and the bottom of the stairs where she focused on indulging in as much fresh air as her lungs could allow. Just when she was starting to wonder for the second time where everypony else went, her thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the disturbance of hoofsteps coming from the level above. As she heard those hoofsteps moving closer and closer in the direction of the stairs, she could make out Sweetie Belle’s voice saying, “I’ll go back to downstairs. Maybe we missed it.” Almost immediately after, the unicorn filly’s form came into view at the top of the stairs, carrying herself with urgency even as she noticed her friend sitting at bottom of the steps. “Oh, hey Scoots.”, she greeted between exhausted breaths. “Say, you haven’t happened to see a-“. She paused to start taking a sniff of the air until she felt compelled to block her nose from whatever was assaulting her nostrils. “Ugh! Why does it smell like something caught on fire down there?”, she exclaimed. Before Scootaloo had a chance to explain, she was able to hear Rarity’s voice chime in from upstairs just clearly enough to hear her say, “What was that about something burning?” Another set of hooves were heard trotting through the hallway above before abruptly stopping, presumably right before the top of the stairway. “Aw sheesh, ah smell it too.”, Apple Bloom cried out before coming into view, soon joined by Rarity who popped her head into view. Already looking frazzled, she took a couple investigatory sniffs of her own. The smell of charred, blackened eggs and haybacon visibly set her on edge. Without further hesitation, Rarity sprinted past her sister all the way down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom she planted all her hooves to the floor, sliding across the surface for a brief moment until she was standing right next to Scootaloo. The sight of the kitchen flooded with smoke made her unleash a characteristically theatrical wail before proceeding into the disaster area herself, unable to hold her coughs in the filthy air. As Scootaloo watched Rarity open the windows to let the smoke air out of the house, she felt Sweetie push past her to join her sister. Upon finally coming back downstairs, Apple Bloom stood next to Scootaloo as they looked on at their friend swiftly making her way to the stove to shut it off. With the windows fully open and the smoke finally starting to dissipate, Rarity and Sweetie Belle were now walking out of the room whilst letting loose a few more coughs; as the latter wiped away the tears building up in her eyes, the former was compelled to fan away the remaining scent of smoke still irritating her nostrils. “Dear, Celestia!”, the mare exclaimed, before looking into the eyes of the children around her. “I am so terribly sorry that you’re breakfast is ruined. I can’t believe I allowed myself to forget turning the stove off.” She looked back at the room behind her which was gradually clearing up and sighed, “Oh just look at it! Celestia knows how many hours it will take before the smell goes away entirely.” Sheepishly rubbing one foreleg with another, Scootaloo was figuring out what to say that would actually help. “I mean, you shouldn’t feel too bad Miss Rarity.”, she finally said. “It could’ve been worse, you know. You should’ve seen the fires coming out of those pans before I took care of them.” The reactions that got out of everyone could best be described as flabbergasted, even horrified. “Oh my goodness!” “Y’all serious!?” “Why didn’t you call for us?” That last question gave Scootaloo the most pause. “I-I don’t know. I just woke up to a fire and had no idea where you were. I figured I had to do something.” Rarity was feeling more like a reckless, negligent authority figure by the second. She might have gone into a fit of self-pity on the spot if there weren’t more pressing matters. To clear her mind, she exhaled so deeply that it was as though she were physically expelling the gloom from her being. Then, she crouched down to eye level with Scootaloo before placing one hoof on the filly’s shoulder. “That was excellent quick-thinking on your part, dear.”, she said in a tone she hoped was as reassuring as the expression she tried to put on. “Regardless of how regrettable it was of me to leave a young mare like you to deal with this on her own, we’re all better off for you realizing when to take initiative.” Every part of Scootaloo was perking up as she took in Rarity’s words. After running one hoof through her mane, she put on the cockiest face she could muster. “Uh… well you all know me. Stuff like this is nothing for somepony who’s ready for anything.” Rarity gave a heartfelt chuckle as she stood back up to full height, “Hah. I’d reward you with a second batch of eggs and haybacon… but”. She stole a glance out the window, “I doubt we have the time for that by now. If you want me to make it up to you though, I could make it again after you all come back from school.” “Ya mean for supper!?”, Apple Bloom blurted out. “If you wish.” “That sounds awesome!”, said Scootaloo. “Wonderful. Now you three go and get yourselves ready while I pour you some cereal. Make sure you don’t to take your pills, Apple Bloom. No time to waste.”, the mare said as she turned around and took a step into the kitchen. “Wait, what about the letter?” Sweetie Belle’s words made Rarity’s trot halt to a stop. Scootaloo’s eyes shifted from Sweetie to her sister. “What letter?” The mare’s voice creaked like an opening door, “Oh, t-that’s nothing! I’m sure I’ll find it while you girls are out today. I probably shouldn’t have made it your problem anyway.” Even though her sister hadn’t turned around, Sweetie somehow could tell her smile faltered for a moment. “Now go get yourselves ready for school.”, Rarity declared whilst she rolled up and tossed the newspaper into the trash. 6:00 p.m. The seamstress halted her work to glance at the clock and sighed. Rarity just wished today would end already. The only solace she had so far was that she made good progress on the Phantom’s costume considering she wasn’t able to spend as much time on it as she planned. The trip to Twilight’s Castle would have been worth it if she were actually greeted by her friend when she got there instead of note on the door left by Spike. At least now she could take solace in the fact Twilight was heading to the scene of the crash to investigate. Still, it would have been nice not having to walk all the way to the post office and send out a letter with all the urgent questions she had for Twilight. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for her to answer. “I’m still not used to how unavailable she is these days.” The needle and thimble were left on the desk as Rarity exited her room, turning her back on her work in progress. While she normally would have spared a moment to admire her craft, Rarity had way too many other things on her mind. Like getting downstairs to prepare dinner, for instance. After turning the corner of the stairs, Rarity was able to spot her sister sitting at the dining table. “Oh, Sweetie!”, she exclaimed shakily as she kept coming down the the steps. “Already done with your schoolwork?” “Yeah. The other two aren’t done yet, though.”, the filly quickly explained whilst scrolling through the list of stories on the orb’s screen. “You don’t mind if I put something on, do you?” “Not at all. You’ve earned it by now.”, Rarity answered quickly. “Besides, having something in the background while I’m cooking shouldn’t hurt.” As she watched her sister break out all the cooking supplies, Sweetie noted how she wasn’t asked to show her work as proof this time. How odd.