//------------------------------// // Headless Horse (Slice of Life) // Story: Equestria's Tales // by DouglasTrotter //------------------------------// "Come on, Granny. We need a Nightmare Night story." Apple Bloom said as she sat down near her friends. The filly removed her costume, combed her mane, and then faced Granny Smith. "Please." "Yea, we won't get scared." Sweetie Belle said. The moon sat still in the sky over Sweet Apple Acres. Screams and Howls of delighted laughter had come and gone with the fillies, colts, stallions, and mares leaving the farm's maze. On the carpet in the farmhouse, the Cutie Mark Crusaders placed their hooves together. Three sets of puppy dog eyes reflected off Granny Smith's eyes. "Ah ain't some jukebox ya put a bit in to hear stories. Not ta mention ah like some peace and quiet time to mah self." Granny Smith said. She sighed at Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. "Still, Nightmare Night just ain't right without a story or two." "Right," Scootaloo smiled, "what's Nightmare Night without a scary story." Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo took off their costumes then retrieved their sleeping bags while Granny Smith hobbled towards her rocking chair. The elderly mare glanced at the three fillies. She scratched her gray mane. "Let's see here... we need a good Nightmare Night story. I can't tell that story. Bout as scary as a baby poodle holdin' a lollipop. Hrmm, there are some good tales from the forest out yonder where that Zecora lives. There's the tale of the timber wolf of Everfree." Several pots clanged in the kitchen with the light going out. Big Macintosh walked out from the kitchen, holding a mug of cider in his hoof. The stallion gave a stern, "Nope." "Suppose yer right, Big Mac. That story is a little on the tame side too...." Granny Smith said. The stallion smiled at the trio of fillies in front of him. He placed the mug on a nearby table and lit a candle. His yawn echoed down the dark hallways as he sat down on the couch behind his little sister and her friends. Big Macintosh grabbed the small mug of cider and put it to his lips. "Ah know, the story of the Headless Horse --," Granny Smith wiped her face, "-- thanks for the heads up on the weather forecast there, Big Mac." "We already heard that one." The Cutie Mark Crusaders said. "O, ya have..." Granny Smith's voice went silent before she erupted into a diabolical cackle. Her eyes glanced over towards Big Macintosh. She watched her grandson use a strong right hoof to steady his quivering left hoof as he placed the mug of cider on the table. Her pearl white teeth gleamed in the light of the nearby candle. Granny Smith toward her eyes towards the three fillies, "As sure as mah mane is gray, ah know ya haven't heard this version. It's the 'real' story of the Headless Horse. Big Mac, ya might wanna get the rubber sheets ready." The stallion placed a quick hoof over his mouth. He swallowed, and then stifled a chuckle. "Ah ain't a baby." Apple Bloom said. Granny Smith cleared her throat and adjusted her shawl. The rocking chair creaked several times before the pony came to a stop. Over one-hundred years ago, well before ya'll's parents were born and thought about takin' their first hoof steps, Nightmare Nights drew hundreds of ponies to Canterlot. Each year became more festive than the last with treats, sights, and frights that brought stallions and mares to their knees. There are tales that say Princess Celestia herself partook in the events, reveling in the joyful screams of her ponies. Some say she took too it too well at times. "And..." Apple Bloom said. "Ya'll want a story or not. Gotta set the mood here." Granny Smith said. Though many loved the holiday, there was one who loathed it with all her heart. From the moment she was born, somethin wasn't right. No pony could place their hoof on it. The little one cherished what she had, until a Nightmare Night, more beautiful than any pony had ever seen, came to Canterlot with the fullest of full moons hangin' above the castle. It was on the equine's first Nightmare Night that she learned of her purpose, earning her cutie mark after a terrible tragedy. You see, before she became the Headless Horse, doomed to roam Equestria, the equine went by another name: the Scythe of Canterlot. It was after that Nightmare Night the equine soon went door-to-door, day-by-day, across Equestria. Many a neigh-sayer laughed at her when she pointed a stern hoof at them, saying the end was nigh. Those at the end of the equine's hoof felt a cold chill crawl down their manes to the tips of their tails, and then met their fate by the day's end. Days turned to months, and the neigh-sayers grew fewer and fewer. One full year after word began to spread the equine found herself on the steps of Canterlot Castle, guided by the nature of her cutie mark. On the day of her second Nightmare Night, the equine found herself face to face with Princess Celestia herself. Granny Smith's hoof rose into the air. In a fluid motion she pointed at each of the three fillies in front of her. That fateful night, Scythe bore her namesake. The equine raised her rose red hoof. She pointed it towards the pony at Princess Celestia's side. Guards and guest alike joked, laughing at Scythe, yet one didn't take it so lightheartedly. The mare at Princess Celestia's side pointed her hoof in return at the equine and decreed what happened to one would happen to the other. In that moment, two were claimed that day instead of one. They say the magic of Equestria brought Scythe back to the world of the living to carry on her task. Those who dare laugh at her are doomed to have the reaper's hoof pointed at them. The fillies' ears perked up. They turned. They screamed. Hooves pounded against the wooden steps as the Cutie Mark Crusaders darted towards Apple Bloom's room and slammed the door shut. "heh, heh, heh... ah still got it." Granny Smith said, releasing a string from her hoof. The cardboard cutout fell behind the couch. "Dang it, Granny. I can't believe ya went and told 'that' story." Applejack said, coming through the front door. She shook her head at the elderly mare, "Ain't none of us gonna get any sleep lest I calm those three down. Big Mac?" "Eeyup?" Big Macintosh poked his head out from behind the couch. Applejack took off her lion costume and placed her hat on. "We'll clean up the maze tomorrow. Do I have to worry about ya?" Big Macintosh nodded, and then shook his head. "Nope." Granny Smith sighed. She crept along the floor towards her room. Inside her room, the elderly mare gazed out the window towards the corn field. The moon remained high overhead and reflected off the pony's eyes. In a quiet voice she said to herself, "Just a 'story' to tell those youngins? Ah wish it were just a tall tale to tell, to scare them little ones. In this here heart, ah wish ah never saw that comet in the sky that night, wishin' to bring ya back. What it did to ya Scythe, it ain't fair nor right."