I spent the next two weeks watching Fluttershy's cottage and all the animals while Fluttershy was out doing all she could to minimize the damage caused by the storm. I had not seen Applebloom since the incident, but I had started hearing rumors.
Apparently the townsponies opinions about zebras had not changed too much, and there were a lot of mean gossip about how Zecora had taught Applebloom to be a witch. It didn't help too much that the only time anypony had seen Applebloom in a long time was during the worst storm in decades, after which she had locked herself in the apple farm cellar and not talked to anypony. Some even talked of strange sounds coming from that cellar in the black hours of the night and some of ponies disappearing without a trace, but the general opinion was those ponies were crazy.
Non the less, Applebloom seemed quite alone and even shunned now, and when I heard this I of course started to feel sorry for my friend. I was most certainly still appalled at what she had done, but she was my friend; and she had just been trying to help, so I felt I owed her to at least check on her and see if there was anything I could do.
I told Fluttershy I needed the next day off, and after a long, but somewhat disquiet, night of sleep I headed towards Sweet Apple Acres. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining from a clear, blue, cloudless sky and a fresh breeze made the grass and leaves weave and glisten in the sunlight; but despite the weather I felt a chill down my back. I could not put my hoof on why, but something was giving me a really bad feeling. I started to get really worried and paced up my walking.
When I got to the farm I could see Big Macintosh working in the field, bucking apples, while Applejack were in the farm house washing dishes. I waved to Big Mac as I passed him, and he waved back, but I could feel a certain coldness or gloom over the entire place. Applebloom was nowhere to be seen, so I assumed the rumors about her locking herself in the cellar were at least partly true. I hurried towards the cellar door under the barn, and was somewhat relieved at finding them closed, but unlocked.
The moment I opened the door I could hear a pounding sound, as of two ponies having a fight and one of them loosing badly, except I could hear no cries of pain or anger.
I hurried down the stairway, only to find Applebloom beating her granny Smith to a bloody pulp with a shovel.
I was too shocked by the grizzly scenery to do or say anything. The old green pony was laying I the middle of the room, her neck bent in an unnatural, sickening angle; her head was flattened and bloody, and her teeth and other parts of her skull were littered on the floor in small pools of blood. Applebloom was looking haggard and tired and her mane looked like it hadn't been washed or brushed for days. The wildness in her eyes as she brought the shovel down on the crushed remains of the other pony's head again and again chilled me to the bone.
It took some time for Applebloom to realize she was discovered. When she finally dis she froze, dropped the shovel and muttered timidly.
“This is not what it looks like.”
“You killed your grandma with a shovel?!” I raged, tears of anger and confusion in my eyes.
Applebloom's eyes widened and I thought I saw tears start to build up in her eyes as well, but her voice was firm and calm when she answered.
“I did not. I brought her back.” she stated simply, still fighting back the tears, but I could clearly see she was crying.
I backed up a few steps to reflect on that, and again my cursed naïveté took the command. Applebloom was just a little filly who had lost her grandma and would do anything to get her back. I was filled with an immense sadness and pity and decided then and there that my friend needed my support, not my scolding. I calmed myself down and spoke in a comforting, reassuring voice.
“So what's you plan?” I asked. “You can't let Applejack or Big Mac find her like this.”
Applebloom picked the shovel up in her mouth again.
“The walls are dirt, help me dig a hole to bury her in.” and, as an afterthought she added, “please.”
I picked up another shovel with my telekinesis magic and trotted over to the closest wall, but was interrupted.
“No, not that wall!” Applebloom exclaimed. “That one's take-- eh, that's where the house is, ya'll probably hit the foundations, take that wall over there.”
By what I can only call the mercy of ignorance I completely missed the implications in what she omitted – and did not recall it until it was way to late – so I started digging in the wall she had pointed out and after about an hour of work we had finally removed any trace of the dead older mare.
After the ordeal we were both dirty, bloody, dead tired and – at least I – mentally shaken. I nearly ruined a lot of work when a particularly big mass of brain tissue splatted on the floor, but Applebloom was prepared and handed me a bucket just in time.
“So, how are you going to explain this to your siblings?” I asked Applebloom when the cellar was finally cleared.
“Don't worry 'bout that,” she said. “she's been feeling unwell for quite some time now. It's quite common for older ponies to wander off at the end of their lives to spare their loved ones from having to find them. I'm sure that's what AJ and Mac will assume happened.”
“Okey--” I said, somewhat doubtful, but not having any better ideas I'd rather change the subject. “Now you need to get out of here. I know Pinkie is having a party at Sugarcube Corner tonight, and you and I are going. You need to get away from this horrible stuff and get some fresh air. Not to mention some socializing.”
Applebloom sighed heavily, but agreed to come with. We took a trip by my place to get cleaned up, before anypony could see us, and then headed to the party.
- - -
It must have been some party, for I can honestly say that I do not remember anything about what happened the rest of that day. The first thing I remember is waking up, ruffed up and bloody in my own bed, with a terrible headache and several smaller wounds that accounted for at least some of the blood. Judging from the light streaming trough the window it was already morning. I looked around and found Applebloom laying unconscious, but breathing, in a small pool of blood on the floor beside my bed, looking even worse off than I did.
The entire room was a complete mess, with most of the furniture toppled and a lot of it broken, and there were blood smeared on floor and walls. I could easily see from the amount of blood that there must have been a third pony in the room, and I quickly deducted from the direction of the blood stains and other even more obvious clues that said pony had left the room trough the window. Without bothering to unlock it fist.
When my vision became steadier and the throbbing in by head lessened I rose from the bed and took a peek out the window. There were a group of ponies gathered around what I soon realized to be two dead bodies. I could not see whose bodies it were from this distance, but it was no feat to deduct that they did not die peacefully. At least one had had her guts torn open, and there were a stream of blood flowing several yards down the road. A trail of blood went from directly below the window, straight across the two bodies and on out of view.
The group of ponies were talking loudly to each other, apparently on the verge of panic. From what I gathered a majority of them were urging for a witch-hunt; in a very literal sense.
“This is clearly the work of that witch!”
“How ca you say that? You have no proof, and how would even a little filly overpower two full grown mares?”
“Shes using zebra magic of course! And you talk about proof? How about the fact that she and Sweetie Belle were seen waking back here with Pinkie last night, and now she's missing!”
“Oh please. All those witnesses agree Pinkie could barely walk. Sweetie and Applebloom had to carry her between them. She's obviously still asleep and the two fillies were just helping her!”
“Well, then explain to me the trail of blood coming from Sweetie Belle's house! Oh dear Celestia, do you thing Applebloom got her as well?”
This conversation made me feel uneasy on more levels then I could comprehend at the time, but my immediate concern was the mob that wanted to chase Applebloom from town with pitchforks and torches like in some classic tale of horror.
I turned back to my friend who had started making some moaning sounds while trying to get up. I briefly summarized our situation to her and that it would be best if she left town as soon as possible. I also asked her weather she could recall anything from the night before. She said she didn't, and I learned that she is almost as bad a liar as her sister is, and a visible shudder going down her back also confirmed my theory that I was better of not knowing.
That, combined with the urgency of our situation made me not press the matter, and before long we agreed that she should leave for Zecora's hut, where she would be safe from the townspeople, while I went back to Sweet Apple Acres to explain to her family what was going on and that we were guiltless in these murders and disappearances; and then pray to Celestia that that was the truth.
On my way back to Sweet Apple Acres I made sure to let the worried gossipers know that I was fine and not at all killed by evil witch Applebloom; and that I had no idea what had happened outside my house, but that it could not possibly have been Applebloom since she had been inside with me until very recently. I seemed to loose a considerable amount of credibility though, when I could not account for where Pinkie Pie had disappeared to, and when I left the group I feel rather certain that not only had I not improved their opinion of Applebloom, but quite thoroughly stained their opinion of me as well.
I hurried the rest of the way to the apple farm, avoiding contact with any pony on the way, and spoke to nopony before I arrived and told all I knew, and all I'd heard to the two older Apple siblings.
Luckily Applejack and Big Mac were ready to believe in their little sister's innocence. They still insisted, however, that she needed help; and I did not try to convince them otherwise. We agreed that I would go to Zecora's hut and convince Applebloom to come home where her family could protect her. I decided to wait a few hours so we could sneak back in the cover of night and spent most of that time pacing, pondering over what could possibly have happened the previous night, and how all of this could ever end well.