Crow Ridge

Author's Note:

Something I made while waiting for my connection to fix.

In the desert surrounding the border of Appleoosa, two ponies travelled, determined to find a legendary abandoned town. Wether it was still standing or engulfed by the sands, no one knows. The only records of the town existing were torn apart by what appear to be tiny claws or teeth, all the inhabitants missing. Since that fateful day the town vanished, the area was forbidden to be travelled to. Dust Catcher, the one leading the two, had an orange mane and tail, with a lighter shade of orange for her coat. Her follower, or more accurately the unfortunate soul who got dragged along went by the name Wheelbarrow. His coat was a mahogany brown with a black mane.

“Dust Catcher, we can’t stay out here, Sheriff Silverstar’s gonna be awful sore if he found out we were out here,” called out Wheelbarrow to his friend, following closely behind.

Turning around and rolling her eyes, Dust Catcher brushed her mane back with a hoof. “For the last time, it’s just a little exploration, now keep up will ya? I wanna see what’s so dangerous about this Crow Ridge, get a few pictures to prove it still exists and then head back.”

“If it’s so dangerous, why are we even going there?!”

“I- uh…” Taking a while to contemplate on why she decided to come here, Dust Catcher waved off his question with a scoff. “I’m sure it’s nothin’, probably some hooha they keep spoutin’ to keep the foals from runnin’ around outside town.”

Taking her reason as a source of comfort, Wheelbarrow nodded. “A-Alright, let’s go,” he stuttered, trying his best to not sound afraid.

“Whatever, just keep up.”

The two ponies trekked through the desert, getting further and further away from Appleoosa as the sun slowly set in the distance, the sky glowing a bright orange from the sunset. They had agreed beforehand if they don’t find this Crow Ridge by the time the moon rises, they might as well go home. While Wheelbarrow was been on the idea of going home, Dust Catcher persisted and insisted they continue, adamant that they would find it. The journey was tiring, the scorching heat making them empty their water supply, hoping the cold of night would assist them in returning if it ever came to that.

“You brought the sleeping bags didn’t you?” asked Dust Catcher, just now remembering.

“Yeah, why?” replied Wheelbarrow, adjusting the saddlebags on his back. “Did you bring the food?”

“Yep.”

“Then can we stop to eat? Dinner was an hour ago,” he whined.

As annoying as Wheelbarrow’s complaint was, he' right. Without a full stomach there was no way they were going to make it there and back without the risk of passing out from hunger. Sighing, she opened her saddlebag to bring out two cans of peaches. “Alright, but only because this place is way too far to go without missing a meal.”

One meal later, they were on their journey once again, the sun now disappearing over the horizon. “Look, it’s almost night, how about we just sleep and go home in the morning?” muttered Wheelbarrow, walking alongside Dust Catcher.

“Just a little longer,” she replied.

“Longer?! We are Celestia knows how far out in the desert lookin’ for a town that probably does not even exist anymore, and you want to go on longer?!” Wheelbarrow screamed, his eyes wide with fury. “I don’t care if this even does exist, I’m not risking my life for your ass out here!”

Sighing, seeing no other choice, Dust Catcher plastered a fake smile and turned him, puffing her bottom lip out. “Please?”

Trying to avert his gaze from the mare’s, he simply could not help but stare back. “Alright! Fine!” Wheelbarrow caved in to her demands.

"Thank you." Secretly piecing together her dignity, Dust Catcher’s plastered smile vanished the second their gazes were broken. Puppy dog face, only to be used in arguments where she was losing.

The rumours surrounding this town are numerous, such as the disappearances being caused by crows, hence the name Crow Ridge. Others say it’s because of a strange looking scarecrow roaming the town in search for prey to add to his murder after devouring their souls. No matter the story told about Crow Ridge, it always ended badly for the residents. From escaped murderers taking refuge there to supernatural happenings, there seemed to be no such thing as an end to the rumours. Sadly, it were these very rumours that drew ponies to the town to find out what exactly awaits there.

Stopping with her eyes widening in awe, Dust Catcher stared ahead to see a distant windmill. Its blades were bend out of shape, feebly spinning with the breeze. The sucker rod was broken, seemingly torn in three places. Finally came the support beams, some broken in various places. “I think we found it,” she muttered as the stallion caught up with her. “We found Crow Ridge!” she finally exclaimed, pumping the air with a victorious hoof.

“How can we be sure it is?” wheezed Wheelbarrow, out of breath from carrying her saddlebags as well as his after their meal as an ‘extra favour’.

“Well,” she began. “Before it was known as Crow Ridge, the town used to be called Corn Breeze because of the crops it grew. If we can find a- AHA!” Dust Catcher called out, making Wheelbarrow flinch in surprise. “There!” The ecstatic mare pointed to a broken sign, galloping towards it. It was rather rusty and with how dark the sky had become, getting a clear distant view was impossible.

“W-Wait!” panted Wheelbarrow, trying to gallop after his friend. “Don’t leave me behind!”

Stopping at the sign, she excitedly read it. In bold raised letters, it clearly read ‘Corn Breeze’.

Unable to contain her excitement, Dust Catcher shouted to the skies with, “We found it! It exists! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Great, we found it, can we go now?” Wheelbarrow deadpanned, shivering from the icy breeze.

“Are you kidding me? We found Crow Ridge, just shut up and take the picture then we can go.”

“Can I be in it too?” he pleaded.

“Well, fine, I do owe this one. I left the stand back home, so let’s take turns being in the picture. C’mon, let’s go to the town square.”

The buildings lining the narrow street on either side were run down and broken, nothing was boarded up, whatever happened, the residents did not stay behind to hide. Maybe they were taken before they even knew what was happening. The one building in the worst condition appeared to be the Saloon, claw marks covered the wooden walls, the swinging doors torn off their hinges and a couple of holes in the walls.

Wheelbarrow suggested, “How a-about in front of the Saloon th-then the sign?” This was the closest major area to the exit, and the clock tower was too far in for his liking.

“Good idea,” Dust Catcher agreed, bringing out the camera. “Here.” She held out the camera to her friend who took it with shaky hooves. “Jeeze, you need a coat or something?”

“N-No, this place is giving me the creeps.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll take the photo first, your hooves’ll ruin the picture.” The mare stood opposite to the entrance of the Saloon, holding up the camera. “Smile!”

“Apples!” Wheelbarrow grinned.

Click. The flash lit up the area in front of the mare for a brief second, taking the picture. The photo rolled out of the slit under the lens, being caught by Dust Catcher. Holding up the picture to take a look, it slowly faded in. Squinting at the picture, the entrance to the Saloon seemed to have tiny green dots. Her eyes darted to the actual entrance, seeing the same tiny green dots. A crow flew out, scaring Wheelbarrow. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I-I don’t know, for some reason I just… froze,” she replied, feeling rather woozy. The crow that flew out perched on a nearby trough, cawing. “Uhm, let’s get outta here.”

“Finally!” exclaimed Wheelbarrow. A murder of crows stormed out the entrance, surrounding the stallion. His screams were drowned out by the cawing. Dust Catcher stood helplessly, screaming in fear as the crows dissipated. Wheelbarrow was curled up in the foetal position, muttering nonsense.

“Wheelbarrow?! Are you okay?!” called out Dust Catcher, dropping the camera which took a picture as it hit the ground in her panic to help her friend. “Speak to me!”

“Sc-Sc-…”

“Yes…?” she held him in her hooves.

“Scarecrow…” he weakly uttered, going limp.

“Wheelbarrow?” She shook him to no avail. “Wheelbarrow?!” The mare checked his pulse, still alive. He must have fainted from shock. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here!” Dust Catcher lifted her unconscious friend onto her back, tears welling up in her eyes. Turning to the way they came in, she galloped as fast as she could. A crow flew past, cutting her cheek with its claws, as if on purpose. Losing her balance she tumbled onto the cold, sandy ground. Dust Catcher’s vision blurred from the impact. Weakly raising her head, a fog circled the town, the call of crows surrounding her. The photo taken by the camera was hanging off of the slit, the contents of the picture terrified her to the core. The figure in the picture had sticks for arms, and a pair of sticks for legs tied into permanently bent knees, the body was covered by a tattered potato sack and the head was another potato sack with a sharp cloth grin stitched into it. It held a small scythe in its right hand which was made of straw. The most horrifying feature were the piercing green eyes, it was as if they could peer into her soul even through a photograph.

Before she could panic, the murder of crows gathered, forming a huge tornado of circling crows. The formation slightly broke apart to allow something to enter. The scarecrow. Dust Catcher was too afraid to even scream, or move. All she could do was watch as the scarecrow lumbered in, the formation fixing itself once the creature was inside.

It approached, standing above her and staring down. The jagged cloth grin grew into a mocking sneer, the murder of crows closing in before everything blacked out.

“Are you afraid?”

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