Nightmare Day

by Leafdoggy

Well Laid Plans

“I am simply not dressed to be plodding around in the mud looking for heavens knows what,” Rarity says.

“Why’d you join up, then?” Applejack asks her. “This is a scavenger hunt, not a fashion show.”

The two walk down a dark side road of Ponyville, no real destination in mind. Howling winds urge them along in a futile attempt to spur them into action. They meander along slowly, paying no mind to the world around them, neither making a move to break their leisurely stride.

“Well, somepony has to approach this with reason,” Rarity says. “It’s Twilight, do you really think that she hasn’t included some less hands-on parts in this?

“Well, why’d you hafta drag me along? I aint exactly the reasonin sort.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Applejack. You’re smart enough to reason out Twilight’s puzzles, and with Fluttershy out of the running for obvious reasons, you were the calmest pony I could team up with.”

“So I was the best worst option?” Applejack rolls her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

Rarity huffs. “Don’t be like that. I genuinely think you are perfectly suited to tackle this. I, on the other hand, am not at all suited for the rough and tumble physical challenges. Let’s just leave those to Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.”

“Assuming they can find the challenges in the first place.”

The two ponies chuckle together. “How about this, then,” Rarity suggests. “We go wait with Mayor Mare, and whatever clue comes our way first decides our fate.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Applejack agrees.

---

“We got beat by Pinkie and Dash?” Applejack gawks.

“Yes, it seems they solved a puzzle at the clock tower,” Mayor Mare explains. “You just missed them.”

“Well, it appears my worries were misplaced. Maybe I should have teamed up with Pinkie Pie after all,” Rarity jokes. “So what is this clue they delivered?”

“It seems to be a riddle,” the mayor says. “It says ‘Though Ponyville is a town of sweets, one food remains their favorite treat.’”

“Apples?” Applejack asks.

“Not everything is Apples, dear,” Rarity responds.

“Yeah, yeah. It fits, though,” Applejack says. “Ponyville loves apples.”

“Well, I suppose it is worth checking,” Rarity concedes.

---

“Absolutely not!”

“Aw, c’mon,” Applejack says. “We already checked the rest of the farm.”

“Which means the next step is clearly not here,” Rarity protests. “We should go elsewhere.”

“Where else could the clue be pointin?”

“I don’t know.” Rarity sighs. “Can’t you do it?”

Bickering fills the air of Sweet Apple Acres. An eerie glow grips the farm, the moonlight painting a grim landscape. The orchard has few lights, and as such, no lack of shadows to haunt the night. The farmhouse provides the only oasis of light, faint as it may be, and in the umbra of the encroaching shadows stand Rarity and Applejack, bright as ever.

“You know you’re not strong enough to pull me back up,” Applejack says. “I aint gettin stuck at the bottom of a well just to keep your hooves dry.”

“That well hasn’t brought up clear water in years. I would get filthy!”

“Well, would you rather risk gettin wet, or go back and say we couldn’t even solve as many puzzles as Pinkie and Dash?”

Rarity huffs. “If this doesn’t pan out, I reserve the right to deliver whatever punishment I deem fit.”

“I can accept that.”

Soon Rarity is off the ground, a rope tied around her waist gently lowering her into the dark abyss. The stone well is old, covered in moss and grime, and in recent years deterioration has let in the elements. Instead of water, buckets only bring up mud, and over time this mud has come to cake every surface of the cramped descent, a fact which Rarity is acutely aware of.

As the moonlight vanishes, she lights up her horn, illuminating a dim circle around her. Slowly spinning, she carefully examines every brick for anything different. A hole, or a loose looking spot, or discoloration. Anything that looks out of place, so long as she isn’t required to touch it.

A breeze catches the rope and sets it swinging, careening Rarity towards a wall. She flails and throws her legs out, bracing for impact, trying as hard as she can to catch herself rather than slam her body into the wall. Perhaps offering her legs to the muk will save her body.

Moments later, a shrill scream echoes out of the well.

“Everythin good down there?” Applejack calls down.

“Don’t you ever clean this thing?” Rarity yells.

Applejack suppresses a laugh. “Just find the clue and you can get out.”

Grumbling, Rarity peels her torso out of the sticky mud and continues her search, agonizing over each identical surface. The bricks start to blend together, become one mass, slipping through her mind, until she’s snapped back to reality by a splash as her hooves meet water.

“Stop, stop!” She yells out, and the rope goes taut.

“Find somethin?”

Rarity scans the walls, even prodding at some to check them. Brick by brick by brick, her expression going more sour with each one. Then, a gasp, a flail, a swing, a grab. Rarity has found her salvation, hidden away at the edges of torment. She snatches up the small box like her life depends on it, holding it proudly above her head.

Then she drops it.

“What was that?” Applejacks calls as the splash rings out.

“I found the box.”

“Woo! See, I knew it. So you’ve got hold of it?

“Not exactly.”

Applejack frowns. “Well, grab it then!”

“I can’t.”

“Why the heck not?”

“It’s in the water.”

Applejack sighs. “Rarity, it’s like six inches.”

“Six inches of dirty, muddy well water! I would smell it on my fur for weeks. It’s just not possible, I can’t do it, absolutely-”

Applejack rolls her eyes and drops the rope, plunging Rarity to the bottom of the well. A splash echoes out, followed immediately by a shrill, enraged screech.

“You got the box?” Applejack yells over the noise.

“Pull me back up this instant!”

“If you aint got a box when I see you, you’re goin back in the drink.”

A few minutes later, Rarity tosses the box on the ground and scrambles out of the well. She glares at Applejack, who fails to hold back a laugh at the sight of her friend caked nearly head to toe in mud.

“Get over here, you,” Rarity shouts as she dashes at Applejack. “You’re not getting out of this clean.”