//------------------------------//
// Ch.13 Dreaded Invitation 
// Story: An Anon-a-Miss Persona 
// by Arcanum -Phantasy 
//------------------------------//

At the start of the rise of the red moon, Applejack's internal clock slowly roused her from her sleep. With a yawn and overhead stretch, she sat herself up in her bed. Slowly blinking sleep out of her eyes, she took in her surroundings with a dreamy smile.
In addition to the bare necessities, countless photo frames of varying sizes and shapes covered the walls. Each one housed a photo of some kind of family event. Everywhere she looked, smiling faces and happy memories greeted her. She chuckled, getting out of bed to start the day. As she stretched herself out fully, her pjs turned into a red and green flannel shirt and freshly washed pair of blue work overalls. With just a step, a pair of used, but very sturdy brown leather boot appeared on her feet. Humming a small tune to herself, she sat herself down at an aged vanity to brush her hair, her own smiling reflection greeting her from its mirror. Not once did she break eye-contact with her reflection, moving a brush through her hair on pure autopilot. After tying her hair back, she reached for something on the vanity table, only to be met with empty air. That was what it took to get her to break her staring contest with the mirror, brow furrowed in confusion as she gazed at the space in question.
"Where's mah hat?" she mused.
Suddenly, a sharp whistling filled the air. Her eyes widened, the whole room seemingly flickering around her between two different versions of itself. The photos on the walls flickered briefly into rotted and broken frames devoid of pictures. The furniture was cracked or completely destroyed, seemingly smashed by something heavy. The vanity and bed were the only things that avoided the onslaught, the former escaping with a badly cracked mirror and the latter sporting a large chunk of missing headboard. In the mirror, Applejack saw dozens of reflections of herself staring back at her, each screaming for her to wake up. Her head twitched, then everything returned to normal, complete with a familiar brown stetson hat on her head.
Smiling in satisfaction at her reflection, she stood up and made her way towards her bedroom door. On the way out, she napped a now trusty small sledgehammer.  A cool breeze greeted her when she stepped out of the room into an open hallway. Though it took some getting used to, the odd traits of her new shelter were just similar enough to her home to make it easier for her to digest. That, combined with the abundance of fresh apples added to the girl's acceptance of her situation. 
OF course, these were not the only things that convinced her to stay.
When she closed the door behind her, she was greeted by a happy call from further down the hall. Chuckling, she turned towards its source with a small smile. Smiling back at her from further down the hall, was none other than her dear sister, Applebloom.
"Howdy Bloom," she chuckled, closing the distance. "Get a goodnight's sleep?"
"Like a log," Applebloom beamed. "you?"
"Same," she nodded. "Ready for a long day of work?"
Applebloom enthusiastically nodded, earning a small chuckle out of the older Apple.
"Good ta' see. Are Rarity and Fluttershy up yet?"
The second the words left her mouth, the whole hall started to flicker. While the hall in question remained mostly unchanged, the same couldn't be said for Applebloom. The young girl's form switched back and forth between her normal smiling self and a sloppily crafted scarecrow wearing her clothes and bow. She heard herself screaming at her to wake up from somewhere in the distance. She twitched, then everything went back to normal, both girls acting as if nothing strange had just happened.
"Ah don't know," Applebloom shrugged. "Maybe you should go check on them."
"Alright," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can't have 'em sleepin' through breakfast."
"Right!" Applebloom chirped. "Ah'll meet ya' downstairs."
"Alright," she chuckled, moving past the excitable girl. "See ya in a few."
"See ya' sis," she giggled.
The second Applejack passed her, the young girl's presence completely vanished.
A faint twitch of her head was all it took for her to forget about that, her march towards the guest rooms further down the hall taking up most of her attention. After some breakfast, she was sure that today's workload was going to be a lot less heavy for her. With her friends backing her up, she was sure that was going to be the case. If she was lucky, maybe they would decide to make that a more permanent arrangement.
She was sure her family wouldn't have any arguments against that.


***


Rarity stared blankly at the pig pen, struggling to make some level of sense out of what she was supposed to do.
After breakfast, Applejack had given her and Fluttershy their own tasks for the day. While Applejack assigned herself patrol duty to keep the Shadows away from the farm, Rarity and Fluttershy were made to work on the pig pen and chicken coop respectively. Naturally, Rarity's first impulse was to object, but her talk with Fluttershy the previous night gave her the power needed to hold her tongue.
When she was guided by her farm girl friend to her fate, she was left more perplexed than worried.
The pen was a made up of a smaller version of the farm house surrounded by a frail wooden fence. The land was dry and covered with deep cracks as if some giant slammed a huge hammer into it. The "pigs" were barrels laying on their sides with four sticks lifting them about two inches off of the ground. There were seven "pigs" total in the pen, each standing in random places in its confines. 
Clearly ignorant to the truth of the situation, Applejack handed Rarity a large withered sack and told her to pour some of its contents into a feeding troth by the door as well as a few other pointless tasks. After warning her not to let any of the pigs escape, she gestured for Fluttershy to follower her as she made her exit. Fluttershy and Rarity traded uneasy looks before the shy teen followed after their friend. This left Rarity standing by the pen, holding a large heavy sack, and looking as lost as a woman dumped in the middle of a vast desert.
Not sure of what else she could do, she entered the pen and made her way towards the troth. When she reached the rusty container, she instantly reeled back by what it contained. 
Thick, oily slime sat in the rectangular tub, with brown bits of what looked like bones floating on its surface. Every few seconds, a bubble would slowly float to the surface, lazily pop, and release a faint gray gas. In spite of that, the odd substance gave off no oder, a relief to Rarity, even if it was a fleeting one.
Holding back her urge to gag, she opened the bag and heaved its contents into the troth. The second she did so, she was greeted by a smell so horrible, she dropped the now half-full bag next to the troth and hurled a couple feet away from it. After taking a minute to catch her breath, she cautiously looked back to see just what kind of vile concoction she had added to the sludge. 
Floating in the scentless gunk and littering the floor were dozens of half-eaten dread fruits. Not only that, but cores, skins, and molded leftovers of regular food also drifted through the filth. The sight alone put a chill down Rarity's spine with the smell only adding to her unease. It was as if she was staring at some sort of rancid offering to a twisted alter. A gift to some kind of god of rot and decay.
Forcing back such unpleasant thoughts, she hefted up the bag, looked away, and dumped the rest of its contents into the troth. Glad to be done with her duty,  she threw the bag out of the pen. Before she could make her own exit, she begrudgingly noticed that a few dread fruit had landed on the ground. Her first thought was to leave them were they lay, but the thought of how Applejack may react to that made her change her mind. 
Letting out a defeated sigh, started picking up the fallen fruit.
As she did, she started taking brief moments to examine them in greater detail. Be it morbid fascination or just general curiosity, she couldn't help examining the twisted things. Under their foul flesh, they didn't look that different from regular apples.  Sure, the red innards were off-putting, but a few cautious pokes with her nail showed that they at least felt like regular apple pulp.  The smell was the most curious part; having an odd mix of maple syrup and moist grass instead of burning meat. It also lacked the black sap she saw its more pristine counterparts expel in the forest. 
Was that the source of the smell? she mused, turning the half-eaten fruit in her hand. Why would it need to let out such a repulsive substance? It certainly does not make the it more appetizing, so why?
The longer she stared at the fruit, nagging thought pulled at the back of her mind. A question that subtly, at an extremely slow pace, brought the fruit closer to her face. As the question drifted to the front of her mind, a light trance made her open her mouth. While the smell of maple syrup and moist grass started to grow, a faint haze started to fill her vision.
What does it taste like?
Just before she could get her answer, a sharp jab at the back her mind snapped her out of her trance. Blinking the haze out of her eyes, she looked down at the fruit in her hand just inches away from her open mouth. Eyes wide with panic, she snapped her mouth shut and threw the fruit into the troth. Terror taking control of the body, she ran out of the pen and slammed the door behind her. For several long minutes, she stood there with her back to the troth, frightful pants and wild shudders running thorough her body. When she eventually turned to face the pen, it was while hugging herself in a feeble attempt to dull her shaking.
W-We need to more careful than I thought, she grimly mused.
A sudden realization made her freeze, extreme worry knocking her fear to the curve with savage brutality. Her head snapped towards the direction her friends went, eyes wide while her arms fell limply to her sides. She ran full speed in that direction, a cold stone sitting in her gut over what she hoped she wouldn't see.
	Oh, God, please let me reach her in time!


***


Fluttershy's heart was pounding in her chest, the girl curled in on herself and trembling just outside of an aged chicken coop. A half-empty burlap sack laid beside her, birdseed mixed with moldy bits of dread fruit leaking into a small pile next to its opening. 
She was clutching the sides of her head, eyes wide and distant while she rocked back and forth on the ground. Her mind felt like it was trying to pull itself in half, one part of her tempted to give-in to the promises the dread fruit offered while the other was repulsed by even the idea of accepting. Both sides were at an agonizing standstill that pushed a terrible migraine into her skull. A static-like buzzing filled her ears  as the pain gradually grew and spread to her other senses. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to see. It hurt to think. She couldn't take it.
"I'm.....going to.....break....." she weakly moaned. "....someone......help...."
As if summoned by her words, a familiar terrified voice cut through the buzzing in her ears. She looked up just in time to see Rarity kneel down to her level. The second their eyes met, the pain started to reside, a numb tingle quickly taking its place. Upon her friend's gentle urging, Fluttershy focused on slowing her ragged breathing. As she did, she felt her heart go from thundering in her chest, to a soft rhythmic beat. Slowly, the dark voices slithered back to the deepest recesses of her mind, her panic quickly turning into drowsy relief.
"Are you alright now?" Rarity asked, worry still plain to see as she put a hand on her friend's forehead.
Fluttershy nodded, gently pushing the girl's hand back with a small smile.
"Th-Thank you," Fluttershy sighed.
"Anytime, darling," she smiled.
With shaky legs, Fluttershy let her friend guide her back to her feet. Once she found her footing, Fluttershy aimed a leery stare at the bag of bird feed. Rarity did the same, already aware of the bits of dread fruit scattered around it. 
"What happened?" Rarity asked, glaring at the bag.
"Applejack handed me that bag and told me to feed the chickens," Fluttershy frowned, eyes still locked onto the sack. "I was filling the feeders when I noticed the...fruit mixed in."
"Did you eat any of it?" she asked, looking away from the feed to give the girl a look of worry.
"No," she stated, a shaky breath falling past her lips. "B-But it.....made me want to."
Seeing the girl start to shake, Rarity quickly came to her side and pulled her into a soft hug. 
"This is going to be a lot more difficult than we thought," she sighed.
Fluttershy nodded, letting her friend's warmth pull her back from the void.
"Did...Did you bring any Tonics with you?" the shy girl asked, meeting her friend's gaze.
"Um...well," Rarity fumbled, unable to do the same for very long.
"Rarity," she sighed.
"To be fair," she frowned. "How was I supposed to know that she adds dread fruit to her animal food?"
Fluttershy gently pulled herself out of Rarity's embrace with a flat look.
The yellow teen let out a sigh then said, "Right. I didn't think about that either."
"So, now we should make sure to keep at least one on us at all times. Agreed?"
"Yes," Fluttershy nodded, then gave the bag a cautious stare. "So....can you-"
"Say no more," Rarity snorted, trying to glare a hole through the bag. "The sooner we end this, the sooner we can return to the house for our Tonics."
"And we can....keep an eye on each other," Fluttershy gulped.
"My thoughts exactly," she nodded grimly. "Now, shall we?"
Fluttershy nodded and reluctantly bent down to pick up the sack. The duo worked to fill the feeders in silence, putting all of their focus into resisting the subtle influence of the fruit. Unbeknownst to them, a pair of green eyes watched them from the shadows of the orchard, the occasional twitch of the figure's head the only sign that she was not just another scarecrow dotting the land.  After watching them for a few more minutes, she let out a disappointed sigh, mimed adjusting a hat, and made her way towards the farmhouse. Perhaps tomorrow would have better results. After all, it was only a matter of time before they saw things her way.