//------------------------------// // Detente // Story: Applejack the Vampony Slayer // by Immanuel //------------------------------// Chapter 4: Detente The pale gold of the morning sun awoke him slowly but insistently. He turned about a few times, but the deluge of light from the high windows of the Sparkle residence wouldn't let him escape the waking world. He blinked blearily, searching for recognizable features and focused on the length of the red velvet that decorated the main hall of the upper floor. There was pain. He felt stiff and raw, utterly spent, and horribly, horribly sated. Uncertainly, he rose to his hooves, and searched his way to the double doors leading to the stairway and the lower floors, where most of the grand mansion lay. Someone, Worthy most likely, had already unclasped the doors, remarkably untouched for a change. The mansion was silent, the housekeepers and butlers unseen and unheard. "Twily? Mom?" he called the silent rooms. "Father?" There was no-one in sight and he wondered if the whole household had left for the country house in his absence. He couldn't remember if there had been mention of such. The last memory in his head was his return from the officers' meet two nights ago, when he had locked himself in his study. Eventually, his wandering hoofs led him to the East Drawing Room, where a smell of rust invaded his senses and made his head swim. It was terribly strong. He stared appalled at the bodies in the room, strewn every which way. Blood covered the walls and the floor, and tainted the windows. His nostrils were flared, his eyes pinpricks, breath flowed in and out with fast, uncontrollable gasps. Numbly, he walked into the room, his eyes searching the bodies, searching for faces. "No, no, no..." the word was a mantra, a futile prayer to make the world not be so. He didn't even realize he was saying it, over and over again. He stumbled over a small form, trembling. A sight of lavender, heaving and sobbing on the floor, holding their mother in her hooves. Tear-stricken eyes of purple met his, as he collapsed next to his sister. "It's my fault! It's all my fault!" * * * "Please, Twilight. You must eat. Don't fade away." The filly had collapsed again, trying to force her magic to her will. Her moods swayed wildly. At times she seemed almost possessed, devouring books of magic and ancient knowledge in an insatiable hunger for knowledge, chasing some wild hint of an unlikely chance. At other times, she plummeted into a darkness he didn't know how to penetrate, seemingly lost to the sounds and sights of the world. He was at a loss. Then, a small hoof searched his own, and he felt her sister move in her bed. "I can't do it," she said in a small whisper. "There's no way." And the girl wept, inconsolably. But she was finally back, and didn't leave again. * * * They hunted, most nights. The dark of the night seemed to cover a greater darkness within, and the monsters came out to prey. It was furious, violent, cathartic. They watched the beasts burn, and saw another in their place. It was not perfect, it didn't bring anypony back, but it let them go on, one day at a time, purging a bit of the world at a time, and hoping they left a dent. They never asked each other about the tears. They knew. * * * One day he saw her smile in the sun, and it was like the darkness receded a bit. Awakened from a long, starless night, the world seemed so much brighter again. There was life, and laughter, and love. There were things that were not dead and rotting. It was a springtime for soul. He nuzzled her gently, and looked her in the eyes, hesitantly, as if she might break if he asked aloud. She shrugged. "I... I don't know," she said in a small voice. "I just feel ...happy." He smiled. He had thought he never would, again, but now he couldn't help but let the expression grow on his face. He still felt cold inside, but there was hope again for warmth. * * * Shining Armor had found a job in Ponyville. It suited him, and them, well, letting them indulge in their nighttime activities undetected. The hunt seemed less frantic, now. Not any less personal, but more careful, more methodical. Diane was broken in the same way as they were. They took her in, and kept her alive. In time she grew to trust them, and some days, she spoke in words other than pain and hate. They were patient with her madness. They understood. Slowly, she followed them to the light. Still he wondered some days, if they had survived at all. They were so different from most other ponies, so close and silent and grim. But there was a saying: "The best revenge is to live well." They went on. "What are you?" the stallion asked. Applejack suddenly felt self-conscious. She was sweaty and out of breath, strands of her mane had freed themselves and pointed wildly to the night. Her dress was clinging to her heaving sides, there was pain in her body and she had blood on her hooves. She felt a mess, and probably looked like it. "Well, that's a smooth thing to ask a gal," she joked weakly. "What?" Shining Armor said, bewildered and staring. "No, I meant, you were amazing!" Applejack blinked. "Huh?" "The way you moved," Shining Armor said in a wondering tone, his eyes glimmering, "it was like nothing I've ever seen! You're strong, fast, deadly, you're like a predator in pony form! You took those vamps down like nothing! It was awesome!" "Oh," Applejack said quietly. Gee, thanks, she thought impishly. It had been nice, spending the evening talking and flirting with a stallion. She had felt like a mare, for a change. She felt decidedly unflattered by Shining Armor's enthusiastic praise for her deadliness. Yeah, I'm a slayer. Nice of you to notice. She knew she was being childish, but she couldn't help but feel a sting of bitterness swell inside. I guess I'm not that interesting as a girl. Aloud, she sighed and said, "Listen, we should probably get down, and see if everypony's okay. I mean, there's probably more of 'em around." "Right with you, AJ," Shining Armor said with a grin. * * * The Filly Night Watch entered the graveyard with hesitant steps. The nascent moon hid behind some wispy clouds and a light breeze blew some fog from a nearby pond to swirl between the headstones. A faintly flickering ruddy light from the rotunda below the West transept of the church cast long, moving shadows that collaborated with the mist to create dancing figures above the graves. "Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle asked in a higher-than-normal voice. "Yeah?" Scootaloo whispered back hoarsely. "I think this was a really bad idea," Sweetie Belle said. "Why?" pale and shivering Scootaloo asked in a trembling voice. "You're not a scaredy-pony, are you, Sweetie Belle?" "I think the word is 'horrified'", Sweetie Belle said with a squeak. "Y'all are nuts for thinking this up in the first place," Applebloom, who had readied an easily breakable flask of holy water in her fetlock, said softly. "What were y'all going to do anyway, when ya meet a ghost?" she asked after performing a standard visual low-vision scan of the surroundings. "Eh, talk?" Sweetie Belle asked after a moment's uncertainty. "I dunno," admitted Scootaloo. "I kind of figured we'd think of something." Applebloom sighed. "Look, maybe we'd feel better if we sang a song?" Sweetie Belle suggested, and started to hum a tune sotto voce. Hush, my baby, please don't cry Mommy's gonna buy you a mockingbird... "Shh, Sweetie Belle!" Scootaloo hissed, "you're gonna scare the ghosts away!" And if that mockingbird won't sing Mommy's gonna buy you a diamond ring "Sweetie Belle!" Scootaloo hissed loudly and glared, her ears flat and eyes panicking. And if that diamond ring turns brass Mommy's gonna buy you a looking glass "She's out of it," Applebloom said evenly, planning frantically. "Scootaloo, form a rear echelon to cover our retreat...", she started saying, when a low voice continued the song from the shadows behind them. And if my baby won't behave Mommy's gonna put you in your grave A soft laughter filled the air and they screamed. * * * Twilight pulled two long silver pins keeping a fold of Diane's dress in shape with her telekinesis and outlined her plan. Down the street, Big Macintosh was struggling to get the limp form of Rarity comfortably on his back. "Okay, I didn't find specific weaknesses in the book, so I'm going to go for the eyes," Twilight said. "Hopefully, that will cause him to rear and give you a clear shot to the belly. Since we don't know his resistances, better go with holy water. Give me a distraction?" "Will do," Diane said with a grim look and pulled a small flask from a pocket. "On my mark," Twilight whispered. "One, two,..." "Wait!" Diane hissed sharply. "Movement at two o'clock!" "Cesspit!" Twilight cursed. "Oh no, it's the other one! And... Shining? He's okay?" They saw Applejack and Shining Armor run to the struggling stallion and unconscious mare. "Rarity!" Applejack shouted. "What happened?" she asked his brother. "She fainted, when tha beasts showed up," Big Mac said gruffly, then pointed a look at Applejack's bloody dress. "Ya fine, sis?" "Eh, it's not mah blood," she said with a hoofwave. Shining Armor moved to check on Rarity. He took the side of her face with one hoof and waved the other in front of her eyes. "Shammfphmffrh," Rarity said. "I think she's coming to," Shining Armor said helping her up, Big Macintosh on the other side. "Miss? Can you hear me?" "Hmm?" Rarity said, before her eyes focused on the stallion. "Oh, Mr. Armor! It was horrid!" she cried and clasped her hooves around his neck. "Monsters! Horrible beasts! They attacked Mr Macintosh and there was blood on Applejack's bodice!" "Shh, sugarcube," Applejack said, giving Rarity a nuzzle, "ye're all right." "We'd better git ya home, Rarity," Big Mac rumbled softly. "What? Home?" Rarity said affronted. "Never before it's fashionable!" she declared before heaving and puking on the street. "On the other hoof," she said with a weak voice, "I'm sure the others will fare fine without my guidance." The group set out towards the town center with Rarity firmly between the two stallions and Applejack keeping her head up. Twilight and Diane watched them go from the shadows. "Directions?" Diane asked quietly. "We should follow," Twilight said after a moment of thought. "Do you have night-ops equipment nearby?" Diane kicked the side of a mailbox with one hind leg. A secret compartment opened with a clicking sound. "I've got equipment stored all over Ponyville in case of equipment emergency," she said evenly, eyes locked to the backs of the retreating group of four. * * * In a flash, Applebloom unstopped the tiny flask of holy water and threw the contents point blank at the voice behind her. She followed it with a swift kata from rote memory, kicking and punching with deadly precision of long hours of practice. Her front legs, flowing in the form of 'sticky hooves', designed for blind combat, found a position of leverage, and she went for an agile throw. A heavy load flew over her body and slammed to the ground. With a shout, she jumped on top of her target, and prepared to buy as much time for her friends as possible. She blinked at the sight of an elderly stallion in clergy clothes and drenched face. "Chaplain Wax?" she asked uncertainly. "I, ah, don't think I've had the pleasure," the chaplain coughed out of breath. * * * They sat in the warmth of the chaplain's study in the western rotunda of the town church. The stony outer wall was covered with bookshelves containing ancient-looking tomes and incongruously colored plastic binders, while cozy threadbare armchairs were gathered around the small stove and a writing desk upon which stood a lone skull Scootaloo was staring at suspiciously. The room was entirely lit by sputtering candles. Three hot mugs were placed on the desk in front of the three fillies, while chaplain Candlewax himself drank brandy directly from a bottle. "Thank you for the tea, Mr Wax," Sweetie Belle said sweetly. "Ah'm really sorry for assaulting ya and throwing ya around like a dishrag, Mr Chaplain," Applebloom said morosely. Chaplain Candlewax waved his hoof nonchalantly. "No harm, no foul, my little Applebloom," he said with a grin. "It warms my old heart to see a lass with some fire in her, and capable of defending herself. Makes me feel a lot better about seeing you three out after dark." Scootaloo poked the skull with her hoof. "That isn't real, is it?" she asked with a frown. The chaplain took the skull into an embrace. "My dear, late, mother, I'm afraid," he sighed. The fillies' eyes bulged, and he took a swig of brandy with his other hoof. "I took care of her in her later years, you see, and she was mortally afraid of having to leave this life alone. So I promised to keep her around." He turned the skull to face the girls and matched its grin. "I put gems in her eyes to let her see, see?" Sweetie Belle oohed. "Are those rubies in her eyes, Mr Wax?" she asked with an appreciative glint in her eyes. "You're creeping me out," Scootaloo grumbled, "both of you," she said looking darkly at Sweetie Belle. "So, what were ya doing this late?" Applebloom asked and put her mug back on the table. "I might ask you the same, young lady, and I think I will, later," chaplain Candlewax said and put the skull gently down on the table. "As for myself, I tend to spend these nights after the school week reading and looking after the dead." He glanced at the girls from under his brow. "They get restless during the dark Sabbath, you see." "What's the dark Sabbath?" the fillies asked immediately. "Oh, you wouldn't know, would you?" the chaplain said, and leaned back in his chair. "Hardly anyone observes it these days anymore, after all. Hardly anyone ever did, more's the pity," he mused. "Why is that?" Scootaloo asked. "Which?" the chaplain asked distractedly, before taking a breath. "Let me tell you a story," he then said slowly while staring at the distance. "A story written in a very different language than what we speak today, and coming from a very different age. It's been translated and retranslated for countless times, and for the longest time, it wasn't written down at all. So, not very many know the story, and nopony knows who true it might be. See..." "Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, two sisters ruled over the day and the night. The older of the sisters raised the sun, while the younger took care of the moon. Now, the sister taking care of the sun was doing fine and dandy, given that everypony was up and about during the daytime. She got a plenty of tribute and prayers, and everything was fine, and bright, and happy as long as the sun was up. "The younger sister, however, had to make do with what the ponies dreamed about. And the thing is, having had to act nice and proper all day long, most of the ponies pushed all their bad thoughts and naughty desires into their dreams, and so the nighttime became the realm of sin and fear. "Well, both of the sisters were warriors, so the younger dealt with it. But she wasn't getting fed by the dreams of the ponies, as deprived of character as they were, and that was a problem. "See, the sisters' most important duty was guarding the gateways of the world, acting as protectors against the primordial Dark between the stars that had given birth to the world and wanted to devour it again so that nothing would exist anymore, the bitch of an archetype as it was. And the sisters had to keep up their strength to perform that duty. "Thus, it was mandated that ponies would observe one night every week in quiet meditation on virtue and strength, to lend of their own character to the younger sister, so that she could maintain her vigil against the greater Dark. "But, ponies being selfish ingrates, didn't comply. They wanted to keep all their nights for their more unsavory pastimes. "And so, the younger sister succumbed to the Dark and fell into a Nightmare. And the night became a time when the outer Dark would twist the creatures of the Earth and the spirits of the dead into horrible creatures in mockery of the waking world. The sinful desires of ponies became flesh and began to hunt and prey on them, and Darkness gained ground against the World. "The older sister saw what had happened, and wept for her sister and for the world. She saw that if nothing was done, the world would die, because without the protection of her sister, the nighttime was deadly for all ponies. And while she could protect them during the daytime, she held no dominion over the night. "So, to prevent the destruction of the world, she gathered all the strength of herself and of her ponies and threw herself against the gates of the world and sacrificed herself to prevent the outer Dark from gaining any more hold on the world. "And so, both sisters were gone, one in death and the other in Nightmare, and ponies were left to fend for themselves. And still, every night once in a week, the spirit of the younger sister reaches for the waking world, hoping to gain strength from her ponies. "But in her Nightmare, and the negligence of ponies, who fail to observe the dark Sabbath, she only manages to disturb the spirits of the dead." The chaplain stopped, and took a long swig from his bottle. "So, you see, I maintain my vigil and meditate every night once a week so as to give of my strength to the sister, who is still alive, in the hopes that she could one day chase away her Nightmare." He grinned. "Yeah. Imma gonna go now, okay," Scootaloo said after a long silence. "Was that a true story, Mr Chaplain?" Sweetie Belle asked with wide eyes. "...Those sisters were the Eternal Princesses, weren't they?" Applebloom asked. "Now, now, girls," chaplain Candlewax said with a laugh, "that wasn't an official version of the church, of course. It's just an old pony tale. But," he said and leaned close, "sometimes, in the night, if you listen closely, you can hear the restless spirits wander in the catacombs." He slowly turned to point a door set low in the wall to the right of the room. "Right. There." Right then, a low wail escaped from the direction of the door, and the girls screamed. The chaplain laughed heartily. "Just joking, just joking," he said between guffaws. "There's just a bit of wind in the old tunnels under the church." "So... no catacombs?" Scootaloo asked suspiciously. "Oh no," the chaplain said sincerely, "there are catacombs there all right. Just no wandering spirits, as far as I know." Scootaloo shuddered. "Now," chaplain Candlewax said, looking the fillies in the eyes, "what were the three of you doing in the graveyard in the middle of the night?" "Looking for ghosts," Applebloom muttered peevishly and looked at the other two fillies darkly. Sweetie Belle grinned nervously. "Ghosts?" the chaplain asked surprised. "There are no ghosts in the graveyard. It's all blessed ground, so there wouldn't be any ghosts around here. Would you like to see?" he asked with a grin. "I could give you a tour of the catacombs," he suggested and waggled his eyebrows. "No, thank you, Mister Chaplain, sir," Sweetie Belle said nervously. "Ya are gonna tell on us, sir?" Applebloom asked. "Hm?" the chaplain mused. "Nah. I used to skulk around in scary places every other night when I was your age. Thought it was great fun. Still do, in fact," he added with a bright smile. "But it ain't safe fer you fillies out in the night. You could get hurt or lost. And then what would you do?" He paused and looked at them seriously. "NOTHING!!" he shouted suddenly, making the girls jump. "'Cause you would be DEAD!!" He wiped his mouth with his hoof. "Now, if you want to see ghosts, the smart thing to do is to go during daytime in places, where there has been a murder or some other bad business one time or another. Abandoned places, where nopony goes. 'Cause they're haunted, y'see. There's plenty here in the town, too, no need to go out of help's reach." He lifted his hoof, and started tapping at the desk. "Let's see, there's the old Barleywine house, that's the faded old wooden building just outside the Sweet Apple Acres on the northern reach. A family burned to their deaths there, oh, must be eighty years ago, now. Then there's the old mill. Nothing but the stones and the cellar left there. I heard it said as a wee colt that the old miller used to grind his wife into paste in that mill and feed her to the townspeople. And the bell tower, of course. A couple hanged themselves on account of forbidden love, terribly tragic, very romantic. Idiots, if you ask me. Will I go on?" The trio shook their heads, faces pale. "All right, then," the chaplain said, rising up with a creak of the chair and a pop from his joints, "ooh, that feels nasty," he said with a grin. "Nasty right hook you got there, girlie," he said to Applebloom. "Now, let's get you gals home. Your folks would be worried if they caught you wondering out of bed. You're welcome to the guest room, of course, Scootaloo," he said to the pegasus filly seriously. Scootaloo shook his head swiftly. "I'll bunk with Sweetie Belle, Mr Candlewax, sir, thank you, sir," she said quickly. The chaplain chuckled. * * * "Ya sure ye're all right, Rarity?" Applejack asked for the umpteenth time. "Yes, yes, darling, I'll be all right," Rarity said. "Just felt a bit faint back there. Thought I saw some hideous monsters, imagine!" She gave a small laugh. The others smiled insincerely. "I'm just terribly sorry I had to ruin your night, Applejack", she said with remorse, "and yours too, Macintosh. I'm so sorry I was such a poor date," she said and leaned for a hug. "Please, tell me anytime what I can do to make it up to you!" she said in his ear. "Goodnight, dear Applejack!" she said, hugging the mare. "Tell your brother to go on without you and make your stallion take you for a romantic walk around the lake!" she hissed in Applejack's ear. "Thank you so much for helping me home, Mr. Armor," she said, daintily offering a hoof. "I'll see you around," she said with a smirk, letting her eyes shift to Applejack, and then to Big Mac. "Ta!" The two stallions and one mare were left outside the porch as Rarity retreated inside her parents' house. "Well," Shining Armor said. "Hum," agreed Big Mac. "Well," said Applejack, her eyes avoiding Shining Armor. "G'night, then!" she burst out and grabbed Big Mac. "Come along now, brother!" she said and darted towards Sweet Apple Acres. "Good night!" Shining Armor shouted after the pair. He stood for awhile, staring. Then slowly, a form in dark rose in front of his face, sky blue eyes staring intently into his. "Ah!" he shouted, then focused. "Oh, it's you, Diane." The mare stared at him. "You. Feeling. Well. Shiney?" Diane asked and tried to peer into his soul. "Oh goodness, you're safe!" Twillight said, walking up to him. "Er, yeah, I'm good," Shining Armor said uncertainly, then smiled. "I mean, it was a bad spot, but Applejack! I mean, wow! She just. Pow! And then, whoosh! That filly was amazing!" he gushed. Twilight gawked and paled. "Is. That. So?" Diane asked slowly, then glanced at Twilight and shook her head. "Oh, Shiney," Twilight said sadly. "She got you." "Wait, what?" Shining Armor asked confused. "Got you gooood," Diane said, still shaking her head, fierce look in her eyes. "'Applejack', that 'filly'," Twilight said with a mixture of sorrow and venom. "We, I, believe she is a succubus. A demon. A shapeshifter, that has taken on the form of an enticing specimen of femininity for purposes of seduction, while in reality is a vile soul-eating spawn of Tartarus." "She's not that sweet on the inside," Diane said still staring at Shining Armor. "But. What?" Shining Armor tried again. "How else do you explain her unequine strength and skill?" Twilight said with a shake of her head. "She may look beautiful on the outside with her golden mane and lush green eyes," Twilight said. "Tight, firm body and shapely flanks," Diane continued, making Shining Armor blush. Diane's eyes narrowed. "And seem like a genuinely nice young mare in terms of personality," Twilight concluded, "but it's a sham, I'm afraid. She supernaturally seduces you, leads you to her bed, and then," "BAM!!" Diane shouted. "Soul-sucking time! You think you're getting a taste, and she turns tables and eats you up! She sucks your soul, when you think she's gonna-" "YES!" Twilight interrupted. "Thank you, Diane. The point is," Twilight said and took a breath for focus, "that we can't trust her motives." Shining Armor stared. "Hold on," he said. "Are you telling me that the vampony-destroying goddess with a schoolgirl blush and a killer smile is a demon?" He grinned weakly. "You can't be serious." "Better believe it, buster," Diane said. "Well, we can't be completely sure," Twilight said flustered. "We can't?" Diane asked. "I mean, there are other explanations, I'm sure, but the facts seem to fit," Twilight said. "If I'm right, the town may be in grave danger. The disappearance of Johnny Appleseed, the compromise of the school's protection, these things and who knows what else we aren't sure of, may be all part of the grand plan by the mastermind, who summoned these demons!" She paced around frantically before stopping in front of Shining Armor, muzzle inches away from his, a wild look in her eyes. "We. Need. Facts!" she said. "Right. Facts," Shining Armor said. "How?" "You need to go on another date!" Twilight declared. Diane's face fell. "You too, Diane," Twilight added. "Me?" Diane squeaked. "You," Twilight nodded, and blushed. "I obviously can't because my integrity is compromised," she stammered a bit, "but you seemed fine earlier. And we'll keep a close eye on Shiney. I'll try to meet up with this 'Granny Smith'. With my affinity with dark magic," she said, voice dropping in sadness, "I might be able to determine the spells she's casting around the town." Twilight's eyes narrowed and her face took on a determined look. "I'll get to the bottom of her fiendish machinations!" * * * "Doggone fillies!" Granny Smith grumbled under her breath, advancing slowly through the night. "Dragging our Applebloom away in the middle of the night, and putting their purty little necks in harm's way!" As a smart girl, Applebloom had woken her granny up before heading out to keep watch on her fillyfriends. Granny Smith, naturally, had dug her armaments up, and followed the trio to the night as backup, if need be. The going was slow, however, seeing as Granny Smith had to use a walker. Step by agonizingly slow step, she headed towards the church, a loaded crossbow balanced on the walker. "Shoulda been asleep five hours ago... darn those fillies and darn their quick little legs!" * * * Ooh, I feel a lot more out of it than I let on, Rarity thought and shivered. I wonder if Sweetie would terribly mind if I cuddled up to her and held her the whole night in abject terror like a safety blanket? Rarity walked up to her sister's room and knocked softly on the door. "Sweetie Belle?" she called quietly. "Are you awake, dear?" Receiving no answer, she carefully opened the bedroom door and peered in. "Sweetie?" Silence. Rarity took a step in and saw the empty bed and open window. "Oh, goddess, no! What has she got herself into now?" * * * "Sweetie? Sweetie Belle?!" Rarity yelled while wondering the empty streets of Ponyville. "Oh, please, be safe and near, Sweetie Belle!" she moaned in half tears. She carried a lantern affixed in her horn, and the white gown she had quickly thrown over herself made her look quite fetching, had she currently cared for such things, but for once she was too frantic to care about outward appearances. "Oh, Sweetie," she sobbed. In the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw a familiar figure. She quickly peered at it, but couldn't make out the details. "Sweetie?" she asked doubtfully. The figure fled a bit further, then paused uncertainly and turned to look at her. Rarity gasped. "Y-you?! B-but you are d-dead!" The figure hesitated, then hailed in a soft voice. "She's safe! Head to the church!" With that, it vanished into the mists, and was gone. Rarity stared after it for a moment, then turned around quickly and ran to the direction of the Ponyville cathedral. * * * "...and so the tears of the eternally bereft shade formed the groove in the Canterlot mountain, and made the basis of the waterfall, that is there this very day," Chaplain Candlewax finished his latest ghost story. "And they say, on a misty night, her cold embrace reaches from the very river that flows through Ponyville, and seeks to touch any warm soul, to leech away from the poor soul the life itself!" he said in an intense whisper. "Like this!!" he shouted, suddenly splashing Applebloom's back with a few drops from his flask. The filly jumped with a shriek. "AAAHHH!! Ya rotten varmint!" Applebloom shouted at the stallion roaring with laughter. "Serves you right!" he laughed. "A little payback from the graveyard! Ha ha!" "Now Ah smell like booze!" Applebloom complained. "Imma tell Big Mac ya got me drunk!" The chaplain sniffed. "He'd notice if that were true." "Sweetie?!" Suddenly Rarity's voice carried through the night. "Oh, Sweetie, there you are!" Rarity rushed to the filly's side and grabbed her in a teary hug. "I'm all right!" Sweetie mumbled through Rarity's mane. "Sis, I'm all right!" "Oh, Sweetie, I was so worried!" Rarity cried. "I saw your bed was empty and there were some bad ponies out, and I saw a ghost, and I thought you were de-e-e-aad!" she wailed in her little sister's mane. Then she took one leg off of the filly and grabbed chaplain Candlewax. "Oh, thank you so much, chaplain Wax! Thank you for taking care of my little sister!" Rarity said with a big kiss. "Oh, a pleasure, young miss!" Candlewax said with a chuckle. "Now you get these two home, while I take care of the last one." "Oh, Sweetie! What ever did you think?" Applebloom and the chaplain heard Rarity start, as the sisters walked away with Scootaloo in tow. Candlewax sighed wistfully. "Oh, if only I was fifty years younger," he said with a shake of his head. "Then what?" Applebloom asked, still miffed. "Well, lil' missy, then I'd be forty-nine!", the chaplain said with a laugh. "Now, come on! We've got a long walk, still!" Just then they heard the slow, steady clink and shuffle of Granny Smith's walker, accompanied by insistent muttering. "Doggone darnit maggotridden buggering weaselpopping little... Applebloom! There ya are! Lost yer little friends all ready?" "Ah," chaplain Candlewax said, "missus Smith. I just sent little miss Applebloom's friends home with young lady Rarity, and was coming to bring Applebloom herself home." Granny Smith stared at the chaplain. "Are ya telling me, young fella," she said evenly, "that ah walked the whole way to town for nothing?" "Let me get the cart," the chaplain said quickly. As he turned away, there was a twang and a puff. He looked quickly back, but only saw the stare of Granny Smith. "Well, go on!" Granny Smith said. "Ah haven't got all night!" As the chaplain trotted away, Applebloom turned to her granny. "Nice shot, Granny Smith!" the filly said proudly. Granny Smith smirked.