Rainbow Dash's Awesome Nightmare Night Haunted House Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Adventure

by TheDriderPony

You Have Nothing to Fear...

You approach the next door with a grim determination. What manner of monster or mental madness will be behind it? A mummy whose creeping bandages you'll have to escape from? A series of underwater puzzles you'll have to solve before running out of air? Maybe a mare made of candy who jumps between dreams and tries to feed you to her cannibalistic foals.

Maybe you'd be better off actually opening the door before you psych yourself out completely.

You nudge it open and are immediately hit with the smell of... baking cookies?

You open the door the rest of the way and find yourself in a surprisingly well-lit and cozy room. It's a combined space with a kitchen on one side and a living room on the other, outfitted with completely normal-looking ovens, cupboards, sofas and tables. You could easily believe you'd stepped into any random family home in Ponyville.

It's even decorated for the season. Garlands of paper bats and ghosts in orange and black drape across the walls while every table has some kind of ceramic pumpkin, black cat, or skull with a cheery smile and a candle inside. Paper lanterns with silly expressions fill the ceiling. The dining table, complete with spiderweb tablecloth, is weighed down with plates upon plates of snacks and treats (all in suitably spooky shapes) as well as a massive punch bowl.

But all the decorations and food are little more than accessories to the mare currently pulling a tray of spider-shaped cookies out of the oven. The first thing you notice is how skinny she is. You've met slender mares and models before, but this mare makes them all look fat. It's like she's made of wires- undoubtedly the skinniest pony you've ever seen. Yet despite this she manages to pull it off, looking fit and limber instead of starvingly anorexic.

The second thing you notice is her mane. If her body looks like wires, then her mane looks like a copper scrubbing brush. Every bristling strand of frizzy orange mane stands on end like she just got electrocuted. Yet, again, she makes it work.

Tray in hoof, she darts through the air with surprising nimbleness, giving you a clear view of her small yet rapidly pumping featherless wings. A batpony? You're confused for a moment before you realize that obviously not every thestral works for Princess Luna.

She turns as you enter, greeting you with a warm smile on her pointed features. "Why hello! I wasn't expecting guests this early but do come in!" She sets the tray down and moves to slide a fresh one into the oven. "Pardon my mess, I thought I still time left to prepare. How time flies when you're having fun, hoohahahoo!"

This not at all what you've come to expect. A totally (mostly) normal pony instead of an immediate trap or monster attack? It doesn't make sense. And while dread anticipation puts you a little on edge, it's hard to be worried in such a cozy atmosphere. Though the creeping sensation of wondering-if-you've-somehow-wandered-somewhere-you-are-not-supposed-to-be also worries away in your stomach.

"Am I... in the right place?"

The skinny thestral titters at that. "I couldn't say. That all depends on where you want to be. If you were hoping for Halloweentown, Ghost Zone, or the Nightosphere, then I'm afraid you've made a wrong turn somewhere."

You shake your head at the unfamiliar names. "No, I mean, is this still part of the haunted house?"

"All my houses are haunted," she replies mysteriously. "But don't worry, I think you're exactly where you need to be." She waves her hooves about at the food and decoration.

"Okay, so..." You glance around for a trapdoor or other obvious trap. "Is something going to jump out and try to scare me?"

"Oh almost certainly, but don't worry! Nothing spooky here but us spooks!" She waves her hooves around at the food and decorations. "Think of this place as a sort of rest area. Not everyone can handle constant scares all the time."

That's actually a pretty good idea. Especially for groups that have foals or Fluttershy with them. It still seems a little unusual to you, but who are you to question Starlight's plan for her own attraction? And you certainly won't turn down a couple minutes' break from having monsters pop out at you.

"Huh. Alright. Cool. Name's Rainbow Dash."

She bumps your hoof and does and elaborate bow. "Scary Godmother. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"That's quite a name you've got."

She shrugs. "It's from my broommates. There's actually quite a funny story behind it. You see, back when I was—"

"Ugh, did you have to store these on such a high shelf, SG? I practically tore my arms out of their sockets trying to reach them! Oh? And who's this?"

You turn around at the sound of a new voice and find yourself suddenly muzzle to muzzle with a horrifically grinning skeleton.

Instinct takes over as you scream, flip, and buck his head right off his bony shoulders.

"Skully!" Scary Godmother cries out. She darts over to where his head landed. "Oh my pumpkins! Are you okay?!"

"I've been better," his muffled voice replies from where he's wedged between the sofa cushions.

You hurry over as well, his headless body hot on your heels. "I'm sorry! I thought you were a skeleton monster."

"Well A-plus for observation." He plucks his skull out of the sofa and pops it back onto his neck. "But an F for friendly fire. You scared me outta my skin! Is that how you greet everybony you meet or am I just special?"

You cringe back at the chastisement. "Sorry. Every other door I've opened so far has had a monster behind it ready to fight me."

"Honey, then maybe you should try opening different doors."

Still, you feel terrible. There were plenty of clues he wasn't a mindless monster. Like his dapper top hat and bow tie. And the fact that he talks like Rarity when she's in a dramatic mood.

He claps his bone hooves together. "But! No harm, no foul! Water under the bridge! Let's take it from the top, shall we?" He removes his top hat and rolls it into an impressive bow. "Skully Pettibone the Third, esquire. At your service."

"Rainbow Dash," you reply with a smaller and much less impressive bow of your own. "And sorry again for the kick. This haunted house has got me on edge."

"None of that! The fault is mine as well. I didn't mean to startle you, I just came out of the closet, you see."

"..."

"That closet." He points behind you to a pantry you hadn't noticed before, the floor around it littered with dropped paper plates and cups. You quickly move to help gather them up. It was your fault, after all, that he dropped them. By the time you're done, Scary Godmother has returned to her baking and Skully is peering intently around the room, behind furniture and under decorations.

"Did you lose something?"

"More like someone. Could you be a dear and help me look? You can't miss him. Big as a haystack. Deadfully tacky fashion sense. Smells of wet dog."

"Slander! Lies and slander I say!"

You're lucky that meeting a friendly skeleton has helped tamp down the urge to respond to the appearance of any monster with a buck to the face, otherwise the werepony larger than Big Mac springing up from behind the couch might have pushed you over the edge.

"Ah ha!" Skully declares. "And what, exactly, were you doing back there?"

"Oh. Ah... here? I was... ah... searching for something."

Skully pulls off an impressive implication of a raised eyebrow, despite not having any.

"I was! A... ah! A decoration fell off the wall and I took it upon myself to do a service to the party and retrieve it."

"Liar! You were sleeping on the job again."

"I was not!"

"You've got a pillow under your arm!"

He tucks said pillow behind his back with an affronted huff. "I don't see how that's relevant. My decision to carry an emergency aid in case of sudden onset somnolence has no bearing on your accusations of sloth. You believe me, don't you, fair maiden?"

It takes a hot second to realize he's addressing you now. "Well, you are wearing PJs," you admit. Maybe it's just weird fashion, but it's hard to imagine a silk shirt covered in pictures of sheep is meant for anything other than sleeping. You compare his bulk against the narrow space behind the couch. "But on the other hoof, it doesn't look like you'd actually fit back there." Nor does it look like there's anything else in the room big enough he could have been hiding behind. "Were you in the closet too?"

"He better not have been!" Scary Godmother warns from the kitchen, "Harry knows he's not allowed in the closet or the pantry anymore after last time."

You almost don't want to know but curiosity gets the better of you, "What happened last—"

"He ate—" Skully starts.

"I turned my back for two minutes and he scarfed all my ingredients down to the last bag of flour!"

Harry harrumphs and crosses his forelegs with a diffident and snooty flair. "Can I help it if my passionate soul is fueled by an equally passionate appetite?"

"Absolutely," Skully replies. "I'm no lazybones myself and I haven't put on a pound in fifty years!"

Scary Godmother flutters into the room, brushing some flour off her hooves and voluminous skirt. "Boys, just let it rest. Remember we have a guest." That catches both of their attentions. They glance at you then turn back and offer each other sheepish but apologetic shrugs. Scary Godmother nods in approval. "Great! Now that that's settled... Rainbow Dash. I know I said you're a little early, but all the decorations are up and I don't have anything coming out of the oven for another twenty minutes or so. The party's not officially started, but I could always use a taste-tester for the snacks and punch." She gives Harry a slight side-eye. "Someone who'll actually taste them and not just scarf the whole plate."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't offer a counter. "And I wouldn't turn away a fresh set of ears to render their opinion of my monologue. I'm trying out for the role of headmaster in a play about a school of wizard vampires. It's a biting deconstruction of the modern melodrama. Very subversive and very underground."

"Oh for goodness—Harry, we're trying to welcome her, not scare her off."

"My performances are a treat to behold. I'll have you know I've received glowing reviews in several local publications."

"Mhm. I remember. They all loved the same part: the fact it ended."

"Feh, philistine!"

"Ham!"

"Boys!" Scary Godmother scolds. "Again. Guest." They have the decency to look ashamed. "So, Rainbow, would you like to stay for a bit?"

You barely even need to consider it. These three are some of the most entertaining ponies you've ever seen! Of course you want to stick around! There's no time limit on getting back to the haunted part of the haunted house, and besides, you started it early to try and kill some time before your friends showed up anyway. "Absolutely! You guys are awesome!"

"Fright-tastic!" she declares, "Then let's get this pre-party started!"

The pre-party, as Scary Godmother insists on calling it, is a good as promised. The four of you spend the next twenty minutes getting to know one another and sampling all the many prepared snacks (though Harry requires constant supervision).

There's cobweb cakes and black cat cookies and swampwater fudge and candied scorpions and I-Scream floats and poison spinach puffs and ladyfinger sandwiches (though no one would tell you what a 'finger' is) and a dozen other amusingly named treats, with a delicious concoction called 'bloodbath punch' to wash it down. They tell you about some of their friends that couldn't make it this year and you regale them with a few of your adventures saving the world.

Skully rattles off one bone pun after another, most of them groaners, but a few are genuinely clever. Harry even convinces the rest to let him read a portion of his monologue (though they mostly agree in order to keep his mouth occupied with something other than eating), and it's better than advertised. He's actually really good once he gets into character. Though the script was way more raunchy and vulgar than you expected.

But, eventually, you realize it's time to get back on your journey. You bid each other fond farewells, but Scary Godmother stops you just before you leave.

"Before you go, would you like a doggie bag? Some snacks for later?"

"Indeed! Why, I—"

"Not you, Harry."

You shake your head. "No thanks, I'm stuffed. Your baking is amazing. My friend Pinkie Pie's gonna love you when she gets here."

She titters. "Well I do try my scary best. Here, at least take a couple of these." She holds out a small bowl of silver wrapped chocolate coins. "Chocolate's very good for restoring the soul and overcoming fright. Besides, we always have these left over since they're the only thing Harry won't eat."

That gives you pause. "Really?"

"Quite true," the werepony responds from across the room, "I never touch the stuff."

"A food Harry won't eat?" Skully feigns a swoon. "Be still, my beating heart. Oh. Too late!"

"It's not the chocolate, it's the silver, you see." He thumps his chest. "Gives me terrible heartburn."

"So... take the silver wrapper off before you eat it?" you suggest.

With those ten words, his eyes light up like a jack-o lantern. "Capital idea, my dear! I cannot fathom how I'd been flummoxed so over such a simple solution!"

"There he goes again," the thestral sighs. "If you want some, now's the time before they disappear into his black hole of a stomach."

Author's Note:

Will you accept the coins?

[Accept]
[Decline]