• Published 1st Nov 2015
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The Foal-napper - Wind Scribe



They say that Foal-napper is just a legend. They say that it will only appear on the night of a full moon.

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Chapter 1

“Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!”

“Oh my,” The tan earth pony mare giggled as she surveyed the group of foals at her front door, “What a creative group of characters we have here.”

The foals in their costumes smiled at the praise they received and let out a collective ‘thank you’ in return. The mare smiled back before reaching over to the bowl of candy she had placed on her door side table. The foals’ eyes lit up as they saw their prizes dangling in front of them. The earth pony mare waited for each of the foals to line up to receive a treat as they had before at the other houses they had collected their sugary rewards.

“Now, let’s see who we have here.” The first foal was practically bouncing on her hooves with anticipation, “Hmm, is this Sweetie Belle?”

The foal in front tittered with mirth, “Hello miss Milano.”

“And what are you suppose to be this year?” Milano asked the white unicorn filly.She could already take an easy guess as to what the young unicorn was dressed up as thanks to the overturned fishbowl on her head and two coat hangers sticking out of the top. What really tied it all together was the green fur dye all over her face and the silver ‘otherworldly’ suit she wore.



Milano laughed again, “ Well little miss alien, I can’t take you to my leader, but I can offer some candy from planet Eqiuus.”

“Yippee!” A few treats dropped into Sweetie Belle’s bag as the next foal took her place.

“And you must be Truffle Shuffle.”

“Nope,” the portly colt answered back defiantly. His costume consisted of faux mane in dreadlocks, and a loincloth of earthly tones, “I’m tarzan, pony of the jungle.”

Alright, ‘Tarzan’,” I bet swinging through the jungle works up an appetite for candy.” Another few treats dropped into the foals candy bag and he thanked her in kind.

“Oh, who do we have here?” Milano asked with sincere curiosity at the next foal in line. This foal was a bit taller than the others, and its hooves were the only things visible under the apparent bed sheet that it was wearing. The only other indicator was the lump in the sheet just above where its head would be thus indicating a unicorn, “Hmm, Snips?”

“Nope,” The low slur of a response came back, “It’s me, Snails.”

With that, the colt, Snails, lifted the sheet off and over his head to smile goofily up at the earth pony mare. “Imma ghost; OooOOoh!”

“Ah, I-I see,” Milano said with a hesitant nod, “But um, why are you only wearing a bedsheet?”

Snails looked a bit stumped by the simple question before answering, “I, er, couldn’t find a pair of scissors to cut out the eye holes in the sheet.”

“Snails,” a colt with an ensemble to mimic a magician said right behind him, “I told you I had a pair of scissors with me back at my house before we left.”

“Ya did?” This earned more than a few snickers from the group of candy collectors.

Milano could only sigh before offering the colt a few pieces of candy for his troubles. The rest of the foals were quick to receive their candy from the kind-hearted mare and bid her goodnight. The rest of the night, the group of seven went from house to house collecting candy, played some Nightmare Night games at the town square, and even got to participate in a prank set up by Ponyville’s number one party enthusiast, Pinkie Pie.

Ponyville’s clean up crew were going to need a few days to clean up all the leftover confetti.

Later on, the annual candy offering to Nightmare Moon went off without a hitch and the night slowly began to wind down. With a bit of persuasion, and a few well placed puppy dog eyes, the group of foals sat around the fire pit of their makeshift bonfire just outside Whitetail Woods and the illustrious Sweet Apple Acres.

“Man, these S'mores’ are the best,” Snips said, thoroughly working on said treat in front of him.

“Hey!” a pale yellow earth pony filly called across the fire, “Those are suppose to be for everypony. Quit hoggin’ them all!”

Snips quickly swallowed his last bite to snap with crumbs spewing, “”I’m not hogging anything, and I’ve only had two!”

Another filly, an orange pegasus snorted, “Applebloom’s right, and don’t lie! That one was your fourth!”

“I resent that accusation.”

The argument would have escalated further until Applebloom’s older sister, Applejack, appeared from the grove’s edge where the camp was set up.

“Now ah’ know yer parents taught ya’ll better than to act like a buncha squirrels fightin’ over some acorns.”

Immediately the foals lowered their heads in remorse. Applejack only held the chastising look up for a moment longer before smiling warm-heartedly.

“Now don’t ya go poutin’ too hard. So long as ya’ll learned how to forgive each other in the end.” the foals brightened back up at once from there, “Although ah hate ta break it to ya, but it’s about time to get y’all back to yer homes.”

The foals all let out a collective whine of displeasure much to Applejack’s chagrin.

“But sis,” Applebloom spoke up, “We were just startin’ to have fun! Can’t we stay up a little longer?”

Applejack shook her head, “No can do sugarcube. I promised yer parents I’d get y’all home at a decent hour.”

“But it’s only eight-thirty!” Snips interjected.

“And that about sounds more than a decent hour.”

“We didn’t even get to tell any spooky Nightmare Night stories.” All the foals perked up at this and agreed.

“Puh-lease, big sis,” Applebloom pleaded with all her might, “Just a few spooky stories.”

The rest of the foals joined in the act and pleaded with the apple farmer for whatever precious extra time they could get. Applejack looked among the begging faces and trying not to succumb to the diabeetus inducing sweetness. Alas, with so many hopeful and expectant eyes looking up to her, she could not resist.

“Alright, but only another hour. Ya’ll are lucky tomorrow’s not a school day.”

Applejack had to shield her ears from the rejoiceful hollering. Once everypony had settled down, Applejack bid them a farewell and headed off back to the main property.

“Remember, one hour and ya’ll best be ready to head home, ya hear?”

Once Applejack was out of sight, the foals gathered close around the fire once more.

“So,” Snips started, “Who here thinks they’ve got the scariest, spookiest, most terrifying tale to tell on this night?”

A few of the foals snickered at the unicorn’s ‘wooo’ing sound at the end, but to everypony’s surprise, nopony seemed to speak up.

“Really? Nopony’s got anything?”

“Oh, oh oh oh,” Scootaloo spoke up, “How about ‘The Tale of the Headless Horse’.”

“Already heard that one,” Snips replied nonchalantly.

“Actually, me too,” Sweetie Belle added meekly. All the other foals nodded in agreement.

“Well, fine then,” Scootaloo crossed her forelegs in front of her chest, “I didn’t hear anypony else make any suggestions.”

Truffle Shuffle raised his hoof as if he were still back in class and added, “What about ‘The Story of the Olden Pony’?”

“That one is old too,” Snips shut the other colt down.

For a while, all the foals went around telling each other they had a story or two only to be shut down after everypony else said that they’ve heard the story themselves sometime in their lives. This continued for almost ten minutes and one by one all the ponies ran out of scary stories that the others had already heard. Those still determined to come up with anything that could scare the tails off each other were deep in thought while the others just sighed and went back to staring into the dying campfire.

“Hey Snails, you got any stories?” Scootaloo nudged the unicorn colt next to her half jokingly, but also half hoping to end the growing boredom that was settling in among the foals, “Haven’t heard you make any suggestions all night.”

“No offense Scoots,” Snips leaned in to talk to the filly, “but I don’t think Snails has any idea what makes a scary story, well, scary. Er, no offense to you too, bro.”

“None taken,” Snails answered back politely, but a strange look soon overtook the lanky colt’s face, “Actually, I think I do have a story for ya.”

Everypony’s attention was suddenly upon Snails at the mention of his idea. The sudden shift of eyes on him made Snails slightly uncomfortable, but not so much that he didn’t keep going. “Um, I don’t know if this is as scary as ‘The Headless Horse’, that one kept me up for days when I heard it. Though my brother told me this one not too long ago on our last camping trip.”

“Well, don’t leave us hanging, bro,” Snips was almost on the edge of his seat, “What’s the story?”

Snails looked at Snips for a minute before cocking an eyebrow, “Uh, I don’t get it. Where am I hanging you from?”

Everypony face-hoofed and groaned at the obvious miss of the phrase while Snails continued to wonder where exactly he was hanging everypony else, because it was obvious to him that they were all sitting down in front of him.

Scootaloo drug her hoof down her face before looking directly at the slower colt, “What he meant was- you know, nevermind. What is this story you were going to tell?”

This apparently got Snails back on the right track and lifted his head up in thought, “Oh, right. The story my brother told me was one that his friend told him a year before. I think he said it was around Nightmare Night as well and he said that this was the scariest story that he ever-”

“GET TO THE STORY!” Everypony around the campfire blurted out in unison. Snails jumped a little from the outburst, but recovered as he went back to his recollection of the scary story.

“So, this story is called, ‘The Legend of the Foal-napper’.”

By the look on everypony else’s faces, they had never heard of such a legend which could only mean that they were finally going to get their scary story.

“‘The Foal-napper’?” Sweetie Belle spoke up hesitantly.

“No,” Snails answered back, “‘The Legend of the Foal-napper’.”

Truffle Shuffle leaned over to Snails to whisper in his ear, “Uh dude, I don’t think it matters. Can we get to the story already?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure *ahem*.”

For those that have known Snails, he wasn’t always the fastest colt to pick up on stuff. Heck, that’s what made him goofily admirable to be around. He might not have been the brightest, but his big ol’ smile and calm demeanor would win his friends over. So to see him suddenly put on a furrow of his brow in a serious manner, threw everyone else off as he began to reveal his story.

“The legend of the Foal-napper is an old tale, but one that has been told for many moons. What makes this story particularly gruesome is that it is completely true.” Even just two lines into the story and the other foals were at the edges of their seats in anticipation. “Nopony quite knows what the Foal-napper is, and those that do say that they’ve seen it are too scared to think about their encounter with the creature. It is said to live in dark woods and only comes out to feed once a month on the night of a full moon.” The foals looked at each other and around the campfire. It was certainly night and there was a perfectly bright and round full moon in the sky. “The Foal-napper is said to also travel from town to town, in search of new prey whenever it’s sources become too low. It is also said to be drawn by the fear and dying hope of wayward foals that get lost in the woods that it lives in. For those who wonder why this creature only goes after foals. It’s said that foals are more tender than a grown pony. Almost nopony who has seen the Foal-napper has ever been seen again, but those who manage to escape its grasp rarely ever tell what they saw of the creature.” Even though the foals were huddled around the campfire, there was a distinct chill in the air that crept into their coats. “Most of them never spoke again for the rest of their lives for fear that the Foal-napper was watching them, and waiting for them to wander back into its woods if they breathed a word of its existence. Though those brave enough to break the fear long enough to tell another, they told what the creature looked like.

“They say that the Foal-napper did not even look like a pony in any way. First, it did not walk on four legs, but two like a minotaur. Even then, it hardly resembled a minotaur, for it did not have hooves for its hind legs, but paws like a griffin. It stands tall, almost seven feet off the ground or for some say eight. For its forelegs, it has big, slender arms with spindly claws at the end. Its head has no muzzle, but the glint of its razor sharp teeth and piercing yellow eyes could be seen by the moonlight under the full moon. It wears nothing but a cloak of pitch black that is tattered and said to be made of the foals hides that it snatches from it’s woods.”

By now everypony’s eyes were darting from the storyteller to the woods around them. Carefully watching for the glint of anything razor sharp or glowing yellow, and more than once jumping at the odd twig snapping in the sparse underbrush. Snips couldn’t believe that his best friend had such a story like this hidden up his sleeve. It both amazed and terrified him as he and the rest of the foals continued to hang on every word that was said.

“For those who are unlucky enough to get too close, they will smell the stench of blood that the Foal-napper never cleans from its claws, and the clicking it makes when it makes with its claws can drive a pony mad as it closes in for its prey. It’s too quick to outrun and even then it only lets its prey run to watch the fear build its prey’s eyes. The only time you will know that the Foal-napper is near is by its taunting wail into the night.” Snails paused a moment to draw in a breath and mimic what the Foal-napper’s wail would sound like. “So if you ever hear that wail, the only choice you have is to pray. Pray that the Foal-napper had found some other poor foal beside you to make its meal out of for the night.”

The group was completely and utterly silent as Snails finished the story. The only sounds that could be heard over the crackle of the fire was an occasional rustle of tree branches in the late night breeze.

Whether out of courage or feigned bravado, Scootaloo spoke up, “Th-that’s it? Hah, that wasn’t so s-scary.”

“Then why are you trembling,” Snips taunted the pegasus, but was futilely hiding the fact that his heart was hammering against the inside of his ribcage.

There was already an argument in the making between the two before the night air was cut by the low howl in the distance. None of the foals moved a muscle as few nearly fainted in fright from the sound.

“It-it was just a wolf,” Applebloom spoke up, “Right?”

“Yeah, that sounded nothing like the Foal-napper at all.” The rest of the group finally let out a collective sigh. Their nerves also settling after a false alarm.

Though now, they were much too quiet for each other’s liking and the awkward silence became thicker as time went on. Some of the foals looked like they wanted to speak, but didn’t, least they look like a fool, but this only made tension grow thicker.

“So,” Snails, be the only one oblivious enough to ignore the awkwardness of the situation, spoke up, “Now what do we do?”

Now that was the question on everypony’s mind. They could go back to telling a few more scary stories before Applebloom’s sister returns to pick them up. Although they knew none of the stories they knew would be quite as scary as the one Snails told, and that was saying something. So what could a group of foals that just listened to possibly one of the scariest stories they’ve heard do in the woods that was just foreboding as in said story?

“I’ve got an idea,” Scootaloo said with false bravado, “Let’s go into the woods and see if the Foal-napper is out there tonight.”

Scootaloo heard more than a few gasps, and even one foal suppress a tiny ‘eep’. She knew none of them would agree to it, but neither would she. Although, if she were the one to suggest it, not only would she seem braver than any foal there, but probably just as cool as her idol, Rainbow Dash.

“Why don’t you go?”

Well that wasn’t the reaction Scootaloo was anticipating, and so now she was the one looking unsure about herself, “Uhmm, well I said it first, so somepony else has to go.”

“Nuh-uh,” Snips interjected, “You said ‘let’s go into the woods’, meaning you too.”

“Well, I just don’t feel like it right now.”

“Coward.”

“What did you call me!?”

“I’m sorry, what meant to say was, you’re a big, fat chicken!”

“WAIT!”

The single cry stopped Scootaloo from putting Snips face into the ground, if not just for the fact that it was Snails stopped the two’s tempers.

“I think I have an idea.” If the universe were a pony, it would have spit it spot of tea and checked that it had not just imploded. Snails didn’t even seem to notice the other foals looks as he calmly got up at went over to the edge of the camp site and picked some tall grass. This caused the other ponies to stare in even more confusion until Snails returned with his choice blades of tall grass.

“Ok, this is just something my brother taught me for whenever we wanna make a choice.” he took the blades of grass into his fetlock, letting the pieces stick out for everypony to see. “We each get a blade of grass and who ever gets the shortest is the winner, er, i mean, has to go into the forest. Yeah.”

Everypony looked to one another as they debated on whether they should do this or not, but at the same time, neither did they want to seem like cowards in front of their friends. Reluctantly, they each nodded in silent agreement that this was the best way to decide the rest of their night. And with that, they took a blade of grass from Snails’ hoof until they each had one and held them out for each other to see. Out of all the drawings from the grass only two appeared to be the about the same shortness as each other and shorter than the others. All the foals looked up to see the somewhat terrified faces of both Sweetie Belle and Dinky Doo as they looked to their own drawings.

---

The two foals' hoofsteps were the only sound to be heard over the breeze whistling through the barren tree branches of adjacent forest to Sweet Apple Acres' tree groves, Whitetail Woods. Sweetie Belle couldn't help but let out a tiny squeak of fear as another twig snapped under her own hoof.

"Y-you know. We are pretty far into the woods,” Dinky Doo whispered, “I think we won the bet, huh?”

Sweetie Belle, too scared by the encompassing shadows, could only nod. With the two fillies in agreement, they began to turn back around and return to their friends back at the camp fire. With their trial over, the fillies’ moods began to brighten.

At least, up until the breeze completely died out. At first, the two were completely unaware of the ominous sign. Then, like a switch, the air felt much colder than it should have. They both shivered in unison and a sense of impending doom shrouded them in its cruel embrace. The two looked out into the otherworldly darkness and then back to each other.

Sweetie Belle was about to ask Dinky if they should move a little faster out of the woods when they heard ‘it’. The piercing, blood-curdling wail in the night that they dreaded to hear.

“S-Sweetie B-Belle?” the unspoken question Dinky had proposed was already being answered.

Off to their left they heard a rustling in the woods followed by a faint clinking. Neither had the courage to speak, least of all move. The clicking grew louder and with it, the pounding of the two fillies hearts in their ears. Closer and closer the sounds got until, it stopped. The woods fell into dead silence again, and with it the two foals’ anxious breathing became unbearably loud. Dinky Doo looked to Sweetie Belle to see if she was alright and apparently Sweetie Belle did the same. Although her expression suggested nothing but utter terror, Dinky was confused.

“Sweetie Belle, are you alright?” She asked to which the other filly neglected to reply. “S-Sweetie Belle?”

Dinky suddenly realized that Sweetie’s eyes were not looking at her, but past her. The sense of terror soon welled up in Dinky’s veins as she looked the other way. Her body froze as her eyes locked on the looming presence she had felt upon her moments ago.

‘Eyes of glowing yellow’

‘Slender claws that reeked of the countless pounds of flesh they have rend’

‘A creature unlike anything anypony has seen before and walks on two legs’

Its entire body was shrouded in shadows, but Dinky knew there was no mistaking such a creature for any other; ‘The Foal-napper’.

It’s head slowly tilted down to face the two fillies in all its terrifying glory. Pinned by fear, Dinky could do nothing as she watched it extend one of its claws toward her and Sweetie Belle.

“Dinky…”

The claw was a mere inch away from Dinky’s muzzle.

“Dinky! Run!”

Sweetie Belle’s startled cry gave Dinky Doo the jolt she needed to break her hypnotic trance. Heeding her friends words, the unicorn filly leapt back and sprinted as fast as she could away from the creature, screaming all the while. In that forest, the creature’s unearthly wail rang out. Echoing like it was everywhere at once. Dinky didn’t dare to look back and ran even further into the woods in hopes of losing the Foal Knaper. Unbeknownst to her, a sizable tree root waited for her just ahead and brought her escape to a halt. She tumbled forward, scraping and bruising herself before coming to rest just underneath a barren maple tree. Still dazed and out of breath from the fall, Dinky laid there for a short while, but she knew she and Sweetie Belle had to find a way out of the forest and-

Dinky’s mind snapped back to her surroundings and noticed the most important detail she overlooked; Sweetie Belle was not with her.

“Sweetie Belle?” Dinky Doo cautiously called out, “Sweetie Belle, where are you?”

Being alone in a dark forest with a creature such as the Foal-napper was doing nothing to settle her nerves. Her eyes began to moisten with the first signs of dismal tears.

“Sweetie Belle, please, come out. We need to get out of here. Before the Foal-napper finds us.”

It was too late though, not even Dinky Doo herself believed her own words. For all she knew, the Foal-napper had already had already caught Sweetie Belle. And it was all her fault. Fresh waves of sobs snuck up on the unicorn filly as the terrifying thought repeated over and over in her mind. Had she made sure that Sweetie Belle was next to her while she was running, maybe she would be here right now.

It was over, Dinky thought, there was nothing more she could do.

*Snap*

Dinky nearly jumped out of her hide at the sound of the tree branch snapping in the distance. Still surrounded by heavy shadows, Dinky couldn’t tell where the sound had come from.

In her desperation, she reached out once more, “Sweetie B-Belle, if th-that’s you, please come out. I-I want to go home, please?”

The only response was silence until another sound was heard, this time much closer.

*Click cliclick click*

The forest air was disturbed once more that night by an unholy wail before falling to silence once again.

Comments ( 2 )

The Foal Knapper

You do know that "knapping" refers to a method for making stone tools, right? There is only a K at the beginning of the word "kidnapping", not one in front of the N.

6588621 your comment has been noted and those responible have been sacked.

Editor: well then screw you too.

We are sorry for the interruption. Those responsible for sacking the other people who were to be sack have now been sacked.

(This is why I need to practice coming up with titles myself, i let someone else do while it's nearly midnight and don't check grammer and then i look stupid. Thanks for the heads up)

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