//------------------------------//
// Lose Somethin' Rares? [Part 3 Scene 1] 
// Story: Another Apple Sleep Experiment 
// by Magpiepony 
//------------------------------//

Luna’s moon shone directly overhead as a strong autumn wind beat mercilessly against Carousel Boutique. The gusts were powerful, and eventually worked their way through small cracks between a window and its sill. Rarity jumped, and gasped out in surprise, when the pane gave way and opened to the roaring wind outside. She steadied her breath and trotted to the window to firmly press it back into frame. A voice called out from a room above the boutique, and carried down to the nearly empty shop below.

“What was that?” The voice said, notably annoyed at being bothered at such a late hour.

Rarity looked up at the staircase with chagrin. 

“Just the wind, Sweetie. You can go back to sleep.” Rarity called to her sister, but received no reply. She bitterly wished she could be like Sweetie Belle right now: warm in bed and drifting off to a contented sleep. But Rarity’s tapestries remained unfinished, so she could not afford such a luxury. Instead, Rarity clung to the anticipation of a soft pillow, and a proud sense of accomplishment. She just hoped Luna’s moon would still be in the sky by the time it became a reality.

With the wind muted, the boutique’s ambience quieted to the soft hum of a sewing machine, and rustles of fabric fed into it with precision. The 13th, and most elaborate tapestry to date, was nearing its completion. Rarity hoped it and the many other tapestries she had created, would remain hung in the castle, or perhaps town hall, long after Commemoration’s conclusion. After all, these weren’t silly ice sculptures, or party decorations to be cast aside at the end of the night. These were intricate pieces of art that Ponyville could embrace year-round. 

At last, the sewing machine stopped on its final stitch. Rarity carefully pulled the tapestry free from the machine, cut the excess thread, and held it aloft in her magic. She remained stone silent as she stared at the silhouetted depiction of the stallion it bore. The drive and determination to complete her task was pushed aside for darker, unwelcome thoughts. She was familiar with these thoughts and memories, and chagrined that they assaulted her mind now when time was a crucial factor. But like the flow and ebb of waves crashing into a shore, there was no stopping their occasional flooding of her consciousness. It was always the same memories, played out like a picture show, incessantly reminding her of the night that changed everything. A night seven years prior. A night whose secrets she would keep until her dying breath.

That night began with such hope and confidence in Rarity. After weeks of study and preparation, Twilight was finally ready with ‘a cure’. No longer would Rarity have to hear about the massacres found in that once thriving apple orchard, or about the monster that lingered there. A monster that only Twilight and her friends knew to be Applejack. They all gathered at the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres, and each were given a small syringe of that mysterious remedy. Rarity recalled clutching the syringe tightly in her hoof, and feeling an odd reassurance of safety and hope. Her friends all felt varying degrees of anger, fear, and betrayal, but Rarity felt conviction. If this was the cure, it meant that the fault did not lie with the pony, but with the potion. Applejack, the real Applejack, would never allow such monstrosities to occur. To Rarity, she was the unwilling and unlucky vessel for dark magic to corrupt and possess. Applejack would be found, cured, and their lives would resume with normalcy and peace. This was the delusion Rarity chose to embrace.

So, boldly, Rarity ventured out into that cursed orchard. To cover more ground, it had been decided that each friend venture out on their own, though even Rarity felt trepidation at such a prospect. She recalled the eerie silence in those trees, and the uncertain fear that hung in the air. After some time wandering aimlessly, she happened upon a victim yet to be discovered. Their desiccated corpse was shriveled and dried from the intensity of the heat wave Equestria was suffering. Enough time had passed that wildlife had already picked it clean of tissues and organs, leaving only bones and patches of colored fur behind. The shock, and stench of the decay, brought instant tears to Rarity’s eyes. She refused to investigate it further and give an identity to the poor pony victim, but made a mental note instead where to send ponies for the remains on the following day. Rarity swallowed her fear and repulsion, and pressed onward. Soon after, she happened upon a second undiscovered corpse strewn about the orchard in Rarity’s path. Then a third. Seeing the gruesome death first-hoof like this was weakening her resolve, and corroding her sympathies. Rarity’s hope wavered as dimly as the unicorn magic she used to act as her light in the darkness. Still, she forced her hooves to press onward. She knew she was getting close, and was mentally preparing for the shock of what Applejack had become, when she found the fourth butchered pony. At first glance, he was unrecognizable like the others, but a bloodied patch of fur bearing a cutie mark caught Rarity’s eye. She didn’t want to believe it, but her pinprick pupils landed on a torn mustache, and finally a wide and unblinking blue eye whose hue perfectly matched her own. There was no mistaking him now: Hondo Flanks, her father. An overwhelming sensation of a thousand pricks of needles assaulted her skin, and the world around her was swaying off kilter as if she could not find balance. Seeing somepony she loved so brutally annihilated had shattered her resolve, and her mind. Had her legs given out? Had she passed out? Had she even screamed at all? Those memories were lost to her. All she could recall was being frozen in grief, and would remain on the orchard floor until she was discovered hours later in that harsh, hot sunlight.   

Rarity never spoke of that night. Not even to Sweetie Belle, whom she learned after the fact, had been in those very trees that same evening. 

CRASH!


Rarity screamed out again when the same window she’d closed minutes earlier erupted into a cacophony of shattered glass. The gust of wind that followed blew out the candles that Rarity had lit to sew by. She put a hoof to her chest, to steady her heartbeat, as she ignited her horn with magic to light her way. She walked carefully towards the window to inspect what had happened. However, her hooves came to an abrupt halt when she spotted what laid amongst the glass debris. It was small and old, rusted and weather-worn from exposure to the elements. A long cloudy cylinder held what appeared to be a solidified solution inside. On one end of the cylinder was a broken metallic tip that Rarity knew had once been a long, sharp needle. On the other, a plunger that was now rusted in place and unusable. She fearfully stepped closer, her mind refusing to believe it could be the very syringe she’d carried all those years ago. Before she could brave a chance to pick it up, however, she could hear a voice above the wind outside.

“Lose somethin’?”

That voice. The gruffness and graggle was both familiar, and foreign. Rarity’s eyes shot up to see a figure outside the boutique, shrouded in darkness and the haze of new rainfall. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Rarity raced to the door of the boutique and pulled it open with her magic. She had every intention to confront the unknown assailant for what had happened to her window, but the rain pitter-pattering on the doorstep gave her pause. Getting wet was notably the least of her problems, but the instinct not to venture into it granted her some precious time to think before she acted. Was an encounter with a potential stranger in the dead of night really an intelligent pursuit? Rarity was rapidly weighing her options when the shrouded figure made their presence known, and walked with a confident stride towards the door. Rarity realized she’d made a mistake, and backed away quickly. She gripped the handle of the door in her magic to slam it shut, but it was too late. The intruder had jutted out their hoof to keep the door open. 

“Nuh uh. Can’t run away this time.”

Rarity and the intruder were only a few feet from one another, but the aggressor’s identity remained a mystery. The only lightsource at Rarity’s disposal was her unicorn magic, but its meager blue tint did not offer her many helpful clues for distinction. Rain had flattened whatever style their mane and tail had been in before the storm, so all Rarity could make out was a strange, sopping wet, pony-shaped creature inching ever closer towards her. A small inkling started to build in the back of her mind when she heard that deep, raspy drawl. 

“G-Goodness! It’s an absolute down-pour out there. Come inside! You must be drenched!”

Rarity’s years of putting on a professional demeanor for customers was serving her well in this terrifying ordeal. She didn’t know if this pony was dangerous, or if they could be fooled, but she held firm to the facade. She motioned for the pony to come further inside as she forced a smile.

“Let me get you some towels, and perhaps something soothing to drink?” She asked, looking for any excuse to distance herself from this stranger.

“Why’d you let me do that, Rares?”

Rarity’s breath caught in her throat, and her hooves froze in place. Only one pony had ever called her ‘Rares’, the only pony this couldn’t possibly be, and yet... 

“Applejack…?” Rarity dared to ask. She brightened her horn’s glow to take in the details before her. An object barely passing for the term ‘hat’ was practically in shreds as it laid limp and wet atop the pony’s matted mess of a mane. The eyes this pony had were sunken into her skull, listless and almost devoid of color. Her skin sagged in places around her eyes that made her appear far older than she was. It didn’t help that the fur itself was paler than the warm orange hue she remembered, like Applejack had been sun bleached. Rarity glanced away from her face to take in the rest of Applejack’s wrinkled, marred fur and hooves. She noted that Applejack’s frame was bulkier in places than she remembered, as if the elapsed time apart had been spent honing the strength that was present in Applejack from the beginning. When she let the terrifying reality finally settle, she returned her eyes to AJ’s to find a piercing gaze that was firm, and bore into Rarity.

“I’m waitin’.” Applejack said, her voice softer now, a whisper, but still stern and unforgiving.

“Let you do… what? I don’t understand.” Rarity admitted, her facade breaking down faster than she would have hoped.

“That night. You and I both know what ya saw.” Applejack said, taking a step closer to Rarity. Rarity stumbled back a few paces. Her heart was pounding so violently she could feel it in her temples.

“I… Applejack I couldn’t… I mean…” Rarity scrambled for words. She did indeed know what Applejack was talking about, but she had denied that thought, that reality, for so long that she convinced herself it wasn’t true.

“I don’t know what I saw!” She lied, her voice growing in hysteria. “I saw  MY FATHER, that’s what I saw!”

Applejack cocked her head to the side in confusion like she wasn't expecting that response. She moved again, but pushed past a confused and frightened Rarity, to stand at her work station instead. Applejack reached out with a withered hoof towards the tapestry waiting there, and stroked the fabric depiction of Hondo Flanks. 

“So what? You just… gave up on saving me, then?” Applejack said, her voice even softer now with a pang of sorrow.

“No! I… I wanted… I h-had every intention… I was so scared, Applejack! I didn’t know if you caught my gaze or not. I didn’t want to be your next victim rotting in your family’s orchard.” Rarity pleaded. Images assaulted her mind as she was unable to force back the memory. She did see Applejack that night. It was after the discovery of her father’s corpse. She theorized later that she must have found her before Twilight or Rainbow Dash had. She could have spared her friends, and sister, from what was to transpire that night. Instead, Rarity chose to remain frozen on the ground, while AJ slinked back into darkness.

“It weren’t like I was comin’ at ya. If I hadn’t seen ya, you coulda snuck up behind me with… that.” Applejack motioned to the broken glass and the old syringe beneath the window sill. Rain was pouring in from outside, and a clap of thunder roared into the dimly lit room. 

Rarity was at a loss for words. She’d had that very thought time and time again, only now it was made real by the pony she failed to cure.

“Did you see what happened to Dash? Twi? What about them youngins’? Scootaloo? Did ya see how it affected yer sister?” Applejack asked. Rarity knew she was dancing around the gut punch, but knew that it was coming. Applejack stared Rarity down, as if she was waiting for Rarity to mention the name of the final pony present at that horrible scene. When Rarity didn’t respond, Applejack’s demeanor instantly changed. She took the tapestry in her bare hooves and tore at the fabric, ripping into it as easily as tearing a piece of parchment.

“No! Applejack PLEASE!” Rarity pleaded again, frantic this time and reaching out for her ruined tapestry.

“What happened, Rares? What happened because YOU didn’t cure me sooner? TELL ME! I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT!” Applejack screamed, but Rarity detected sorrow amidst the rage. Applejack tore into the tapestry again, but Rarity lowered the hoof she’d raised in protest. Guilt had encompassed her, and she no longer had the will to stop AJ from her destruction. Rarity took a couple of steps back, with her ears flat against her head. Eventually, she turned away completely, refusing to watch Applejack make tatters of her father’s likeness.

“Oh. I see. Yer still lyin’ to yerself, ain’t ya? Ya still think yer innocent.”

“No. I’m not innocent. I know what I didn’t do, and what I… what I could have done.” Rarity snapped, bitter defeat in her tone. She’d suppressed this shame for years, but knew eventually she would have to confront it. She just hadn’t expected to do so like this.

“Say her name.”

Rarity looked up in shock to see Applejack standing on the other side of the room, when she hadn’t heard her make a single hoofstep. She whirled back to see the remains of her father’s tapestry before realizing Applejack wasn’t satisfied with just one tapestry.

“Applejack, please… I know you’re angry with me, but you don’t have to do this!”

“SAY. HER. NAME.” Applejack screamed, tearing another tapestry down the center. When she did, Rarity’s all-consuming guilt morphed itself into anger.

“STOP IT!” Rarity screamed, using her magic to rip the tapestry from AJ’s grasp, exacerbating the damage. Applejack continued her destruction while Rarity desperately tried to stop her. 

“I’m not the one who took dangerous magic from Twilight! I’m not the one who didn’t heed her warning! I’m not the one who slaughtered pony after pony on my FAMILY’S property! I’m not the one who tried to kill our friends! APPLE BLOOM WASN’T MY FAULT!”

Applejack stopped suddenly at the mention of her sister’s name. After a long pause, she looked up at Rarity with tired, soulless eyes. 

“There now. Was that so hard?” Applejack asked listlessly.

The gathered tapestries in Applejack’s hooves were then unceremoniously dropped, and she walked away from their remains. Rarity seized the opportunity and raced to protect them from further harm. She fought back the urge to sob as she gathered weeks of ruined work into her hooves. Silent tears fell onto their shreds, but they weren’t shed for the loss of art. No, these tears were for her returning guilt, unearthed and unyielding.

“Rarity?”

Rarity’s head snapped up the second that Sweetie Belle spoke. Sweetie was standing at the base of the staircase looking from one side of the room to the other, taking in the sight before her. When her eyes fell on Applejack, she screamed in unadulterated fear, and sprinted back up the steps. 

Something dark and evil started growing in Applejack’s sinister expression. Rarity didn’t know what it meant, but she knew to be afraid. She tried to scramble to her hooves to stop AJ from whatever she was planning to do next, but was caught up in the tapestries’ tatters. 

“Applejack, this is between you and me! You leave Sweetie out of this! I’m guilty, alright? It’s MY fault! Just… leave her alone!” Rarity screamed, her voice cracking as she ignited her horn with magic. She levitated anything within magical reach to hover around her as make-shift weapons, hoping it would be enough to intimidate Applejack. Sewing scissors, pins, bolts of fabric, needles, and even the sewing machine itself hovered around the frightened unicorn as she kept fighting to be freed from the mess of her ruined art.

“You’ll never understand my pain.” Applejack said coldly, her icy gaze falling on the scrambling unicorn without a hint of concern. “I lost mah sister, so maybe you won’t understand until you lose yours.”

A frightfully similar sensation took hold of Rarity at the sound of those words. Those thousand needle pricks, and the nauseating swaying, assaulted her body as it had seven years prior. It was all she could do to remain upright as she watched Applejack ascend the steps after her sister like a bolt of frenzied lightning. 

No. Rarity wouldn’t succumb, she couldn’t succumb. She’d left Sweetie Belle in danger once before, and this was her one and only chance to rectify that mistake. With an outcry of fear, Rarity thrust every object she’d held aloft in her magic after the fleeing earth pony. She didn’t wait to see if any of them had had any success before building up her magic for a second blast. The resounding explosion of light and destruction eviscerated the tapestries that held her down. There was no time to feel any regret for the loss, as Sweetie’s Belle’s distant screams urged her forward with single-minded determination. She raced up the steps, two at a time, her tiring magic building for a third blast. She had just reached the doorway to Sweetie Belle’s room, when Applejack opened the door and slammed herself into it. As a result, the door lambasted Rarity with enough force to send her careening down the hallway. Magic sputtered as Rarity screamed out in agony. She roughly collided head-first into an adjacent wall. 

Through the cacophony of shrieking dissonant tones, Rarity could have sworn she heard something crack. There was no word for the pain of it all, just a continuous and searing white-hot agony that threatened her consciousness with every passing second. Still, Rarity refused to give into the comfort of darkness. She couldn’t fail her loved ones, not again. Not ever again.

“GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”

Applejack’s screams were barely audible over Rarity’s pain, but she latched onto them as an anchor in reality. Adrenaline wouldn’t pump through her veins forever, so she had to act now. Then came the sound of Sweetie Belle’s garbled cries. More anchors, this time pulling her to stand again. Her legs shook, each step a renewed tidal wave of needle-pricks with increasing intensity. She kept going. This was a pain she’d wish on nopony, enemy or otherwise, but she refused to relent. Her sight was greatly impaired, and her equilibrium suffered even worse. She fell flat on the ground, darkness encroaching. A single stream of blood flowed from somewhere above her eyes, coloring her vision in crimson before she swiftly wiped it away. Gritting her teeth, she crawled onward, then pushed herself up to her hooves and stumbled forward haltingly. The distance to Sweetie’s room was the most lengthy and languishing journey Rarity had ever experienced. 

Finally, the opened door was within reach. As her hoof outstretched for the handle, hoping to steady herself with it, she caught sight of her sewing scissors. They had been part of the ‘weapons’ she’d flung after Applejack, and in a pinch, they would serve her just fine. She attempted to ignite her horn and hold them aloft, but her magic refused to respond. Rarity let out a winded sob, gathering the scissors in hoof. The feeling of the cold, weighty metal in her grasp: it was almost identical to what it had been like that night with the syringe. The past had caught up with her at last, and her greatest mistake was played out before her again with a choice. Rarity’s mind was made up.

With a frenzied cry, Rarity rounded the corner into Sweetie Belle’s room. Applejack was waiting for her there, their hooves colliding together at the same moment as a clap of thunder roared outside. The pair struggled for control of the weapon in the darkness, and Rarity couldn’t help but notice the absence of Sweetie Belle’s voice. She could only hope by the Princess’s grace, that Sweetie was unconscious, but alright. With each agonizing second, Rarity’s strength waned. She was losing the fight, and she knew it. In a fit of hysteria, she pulled away from Applejack, allowing her to keep the sewing scissors. However, Rarity thrust out her hoof when Applejack attempted to take a step. Much to her surprise, AJ’s footing caught hold and it sent the earth pony barreling to the ground. Rarity could only watch in shock through bleary vision as the scissors were propelled out of hoof, and skid in Rarity’s direction. 

This hadn’t been the way she wanted it to end. There was so much left unspoken. So much was still unknown. She didn’t even know who she was killing now: a mare, or a monster? But Rarity couldn’t riddle out her morality, she wasn’t giving herself the choice. This was a kill or be killed situation, so she was going to commit. Rarity’s body screamed in pain as she forced herself up on her hind legs, syringe held aloft. No, not syringe, scissors. A weapon. Had she done this years ago with the syringe, she wouldn’t be here now, correcting her mistake with far dire consequences. There was a sickening sensation of falling forward as the blades, and the pony wielding them, thrust downward. Rarity braced herself for the impact with her victim, but the far more frightening surprise was the awkward stab hitting not pony, but floorboard. 

Rarity released the scissors as her body rolled to the side, senses screaming. Somehow, Applejack had maneuvered out of the way of the final blow. For the time being, the world was spinning too violently for Rarity to find the right footing to stand, so Applejack had the advantage. As each second passed, dread built in the unicorn’s veins. She could only will her body on for so long before it would refuse to respond, and she was dancing around that last shred of consciousness. Somewhere in her stupor, Rarity’s ears twitched to the sound of thundering hoofsteps descending the stairs, followed by the sound of a door opening and slamming shut again. Applejack hadn’t remained to finish her off as she had expected.

Rarity slowly rolled onto her back, having to blink through the stream of blood obscuring her vision. She tried again to ignite her horn, and this time magic hiccuped to a dull light. Even just the act of turning her head to the side sent waves of piercing pain through Rarity. By some stroke of luck, she found what she was looking for right away: Sweetie Belle. Rarity gasped out in relief to find her sister so nearby. However, Rarity beheld the horror of her little sister’s face, and that relief vanished. Sweetie Belle’s mouth hung open slightly, blood pooling there from unseen damage within. It leaked onto the floorboards and soaked her purple and pink mane. All Rarity could see was frozen fear in those damp, milky, and lifeless eyes. She whimpered, her horn’s magic extinguishing on its own, sparing her from seeing more of what had become of her baby sister. 

There she was again, frozen in fear and grief on the ground while the remains of her family rotted away beside her. This time, however, Rarity didn’t get to see the stars or feel a night wind blow. She had to mire in the smell of fresh blood and viscera, unseen but potent. Darkness was the only mercy left to Rarity, but even that only lasted for so long. A great flash of lightning from outside the boutique lit the room, and it was then that Rarity beheld what atrocity Applejack had left behind. The acrid smells in the room weren’t just coming from the corpse beside her, but from the very walls and ceiling. For even in that second of light, Rarity could see something scrawled over and over with her dear sister’s blood. The red of it was still oozing and dripping freely, making it sound as if the rain outside had leaked into the room. Another flash, as Rarity’s eyes beheld the final judgment that Applejack had bestowed on Rarity for her crimes. Guilty. Hoof-written and frantic, and found all over the walls, the ceiling, the canopy bed, the fixtures, and some furniture. Rarity didn’t have the strength to make a single sound at this macabre sight. She couldn’t even properly comprehend it now that the sharp pains, once kept at bay by adrenaline, came roaring into focus. Rarity’s heart beats echoed the sentiment she now felt for her sister's untimely demise.

Guilty… Guilty… Guilty…