• Published 9th Jan 2013
  • 960 Views, 16 Comments

White - Mayclore



Applejack encounters a lost soul on the side of the highway one morning, and soon takes it upon herself to help the woman find her way. The secrets that follow her, however, may lead the apple farmer and her friends into an early grave.

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The Hitchhiker

“I don't like guns.”

The speaker of these words pressed herself against the trunk of a great oak tree, peeking around one side, then the other, for her pursuer. She could hear the other woman shouting angrily, the noise echoing sharply in the night air. Twice, a faint flashlight beam swept past, but never lit up the concealed woman. The yelling drew closer, so the woman had to move, but the going wasn't easy in her black sundress and sandals.

Another enraged shout rang through the forest as she began walking again. “I'm gonna fucking kill you!”

The reaction from the one being pursued was something far less than fearful, more closely resembling resignation than terror. She pushed uneasily through bushes and over exposed tree roots, squinting hard to see in the slivers of moonlight that pierced the canopy above. The woman chasing her was gaining; she likely knew the area much better, given the fact that she lived in a cabin enveloped by the forest. The flashlight beam swept by again, but this time it lit the woman up fully.

“Found you!” A shot was fired. The bullet found its mark, planting itself in her right shoulder. She grunted audibly, but didn't turn around. She didn't have time to; the pursuer tackled her to the ground and straddled her, pointing a flat black pistol right at her nose. A bright light washed out her vision for a moment. “Not getting away now. I'm gonna make you pay for what you did to my sister.”

She looked up at the other woman with idle blue eyes and shrugged as best she could. “That makes sense.”

That was apparently not the reaction the pistol-wielding woman expected, as the gun dropped slightly while she stared down with unsure hazel eyes. “Aren't you afraid?”

She squirmed on the ground, annoyed with the itchiness of the woman's jeans. She was leaking from the wound in her shoulder, leaving a small, warm puddle in the dead leaves. “Not really,” she said evenly. The pistol soon returned to its original position.

“My sister never did anything to deserve this!”

The reply was like a placid sea, smooth and calm. “I know.” Now the pistol was jammed into her forehead; it stung a bit, but the pain in her shoulder washed most of the feeling out.

“You cut off her arms!” the bereaved woman shrieked, tears pouring down her face. “She bled to death...” In the uneven light, she could see that the woman wasn't wearing a red shirt, but that it was bloody. “Why?”

Another shrug of her shoulders as she lay on the ground. “If I told you, it wouldn't change anything.”

A bullet suddenly ripped into her skull; the pain was unlike anything else she'd ever known, but it lasted for only a split second. Sobbing, the shooter snatched up her flashlight and rose to her feet, stumbling away. She collapsed against a tree trunk and wept bitterly. She remained in this position until a noise startled her, coming from directly behind. She whipped her flashlight around and halfway fell with the force. The beam rested on the sullen face of the woman in the black dress.

“I don't think it worked.”

She looked at the terrified woman, her face a mask of stone. A mixture of red and black liquid trickled down her face, dripping off the end of her nose and running over her lips. She was shot again eight times, and the other woman kept pulling the trigger despite the hollow clicks that followed. She dropped the gun and began to run back the way she came, but something caught her foot. As she thrashed and screamed, it dragged her back to the tree.

“Help!” she wailed, clawing at the ground. She rolled over and tried to attack whatever was holding her, only to see a black, wriggling thing ensnaring her ankle. She followed it with the light back to its source, rooted in the open right hand of the woman in the dress. With a grunt, she was pulled closer, flailing and grabbing at the earth. Suddenly, she was lifted by the ankle and placed roughly against the trunk, so high off the ground that she was face to face with the other woman, but upside down.

“Be quiet,” the woman in black said, lifting her left arm and placing her palm on the crying woman's forehead. Her face was still marred with blood and something else, something darker, but the wound itself was no longer visible. “I have to eat just like everyone else.” Her hanging victim shrieked, but it was a short, shrill noise. The other woman withdrew her palm; it was studded with a hard, black spike, which withdrew into her flesh. After she dropped the body, she sat again by it.

For a moment, she stared at the slit of red in her palm where the spike had gone in. Her palm was bloody, too, but the entrance wound was still easily visible. She reached over and gripped the corpse's right arm, yanking it up and putting her other hand on the shoulder. Another ebony knife emerged, severing the arm cleanly. Now grasping it in both her hands, she brought it up and took a bite out of the part below the elbow, like she were eating a corn cob.

She ate quietly, freeing one hand from holding her meal to wipe the crimson off her mouth. A crunch rang out with her next bite; she had struck bone, but her teeth were closer in strength to a shark's than a human's. She powered through it, swallowing the marrow and minerals as easily as the meat that cloaked it. When she finished eating that arm, she hacked off the other and started to chew on it idly. Abruptly, she spat out the appendage and wept quietly. Just as abruptly, a few seconds later she stopped and snatched it up, devouring the dirt and leaves that clung to it with no regard. She was full, now, but not knowing when she'd eat again, she took more flesh from the corpse, stripping away its shirt and tearing out chunks of its torso, gulping them down until her mind said to cease. She was well and truly stuffed, and it showed after she rose to her feet. Her steps were wobbly and slow, and her eyes half closed. It took her much longer to find the cabin in the clearing than it did to leave it, and once there she addled up the front steps and found the door locked.

Quietly, she placed her palm over the keyhole, injecting the gooey blackness into it. It became hard and defeated the lock as she rotated her wrist back and forth, allowing her entry. Once inside, she looked around for the bathroom, and once it was found, immediately took a long, long shower, paying special attention to washing her face, as well as her blue and black hair. After she was satisfied with that, she rummaged through the bedrooms for new clothes to wear. She had to settle for the nicest pair of jeans she could find and a black tank top; the sandals she had came clean in the bathroom sink with a little scrubbing, so she kept them. Before departing, she wandered out into the backyard.

Here was the corpse that had started all this, a teenaged girl with dusty brown hair and a white shirt and jean shorts. Her arms were missing, not only from her body but the area entirely. Something from the woods must have claimed them while she was away. Her eyes lingered on the body for a moment before she turned and drifted into the forest.


She had no idea where her walking had taken her, only that the sun now shone down angrily upon her head. With her hands shoved in her pockets, she wandered slowly down the side of the two lane highway, affording only a passing glance to every car that sped by. She did not bother attempting to hitchhike; there was no hurry, and furthermore she hadn't anywhere in particular to go. Her eyes were mostly cast down at the grassy shoulder, darting about as things moved nearby. She was only snapped out of her automated gait when a rough, gurgling noise reached her ears. It approached from behind, not bearing the smooth sort of tone that the other passing cars had. It revealed itself in short order as an old, slightly grimy red truck as it trundled past.

To her surprise, it pulled off onto the shoulder a few yards ahead.

When she reached it again, the passenger side window was down. Looking out of it was a blonde woman with a tan Stetson – which had a notch missing from the front of the brim – and friendly green eyes. A smile was plastered on her freckled face. She took a moment to dab at her forehead with a red and white handkerchief before waving.

“Howdy! Look like you could use a ride.”

She gazed at the driver blankly for a second or two and shrugged. “I'm fine.”

“Are you nuts?” the driver replied, stuffing the handkerchief back into the pocket of her orange shirt. “It's hotter than a volcano out here!” The word 'volcano' was so lathered with accent, it took the woman in black a moment to process the thing. “Come on. I don't mind givin' ya a lift ta town.”

“Town?” she asked, now turning fully to the blonde and staring. “What town?”

“Ponyville!” the blonde chirped happily, before her face dropped into a wry smirk. “Don't ask why we call it that. Long story an' all. Come on, I insist! You're gonna get roasted straight through if ya stay out here all mornin'.”

She ran a hand through her black and blue hair and sighed a bit. She wasn't tired of walking – she'd gone distances much greater than this before – but the kindness stung her in an odd sort of way. It was a pang of something she found familiar and totally alien all at once. She did know one thing, however; it was not unpleasant. It didn't make her instincts tingle with warning, or her reflexes ready themselves. It was somehow...refreshing.

And she decided that she wanted to see if there was more of it. Without another word, she opened the door of the old truck and climbed in. Once they were underway, she regarded the blonde woman more fully. She seemed to be a farmer; her arms certainly had the abrupt tan of one. Her faded jeans were pulled over brown, heavy cowboy boots.

“So, where ya headin'?”

The time for regarding had gone. The woman in black locked her gaze on the view out the passenger window, leaning against the door slightly. Her reply came without missing a beat. “Nowhere in particular.”

The blonde rested her left arm on top of the driver's door, steering easily with her right and looking ahead with slightly confused eyes. “One of those wanderin' types, huh?”

“Yes, you could say that.” Almost reflexively, she turned over her left hand, raising it and looking at her palm. A thick red line ran straight down the center.

“Whoa, nasty scar,” the blonde blurted out. Her hand instantly clenched into a fist. She looked over just as the blonde gave her a nervous smile. “Sorry. Couldn't help but see it. What happened?”

She looked back out the window, her eyes suddenly hard and hostile. “...nothing.”

Even with the limited reaction, the blonde assumed she had crossed some kind of line, and drove on with a sheepish look. “Pardon...by the way, name's Applejack!” she offered, latching an expectant tone to the end in an attempt to break the ice. She frowned when no reply came, and glanced over to see that her passenger was still staring out the window. “What's your name?” she tried again.

She was now resting her chin on her right hand, and Applejack could see the red line on that palm as well. This time, however, she kept her mouth shut about it. “I am Fuyu.”

That response earned Fuyu a blink from the blonde that she paid no attention to whatsoever. The truck came to a squeaky stop at an intersection, and it was now time for Applejack to regard her passenger. What she saw was a very pale, slender woman with mostly black hair – two turquoise stripes ran through it, originating from above her eyebrows – which she wore slicked back. It fell stiffly to a spot between her shoulders, the strands curling up at their ends. The one thing Applejack could tell was that this woman was no stranger to physical labor, though what kind of work defied her. Her arms were toned lengths of flawless porcelain, save the red lines on her palms. When Fuyu felt the gaze on her, she turned her head and looked back, revealing her faintly almond-shaped blue eyes and thin lips.

“What?”

“Uh, nothin'!” Applejack replied hastily, snapping her head back forward and gripping the wheel with both hands as she pressed on the accelerator. “Just, uh, that's a weird-soundin' name, is all.” Mentally, she slapped herself as she realized her insinuation and tried to clarify. “I mean, not the kinda name I hear a lot!” she added abruptly and sighed. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

“Oh.”

She looked over at Fuyu after pulling away from the stop sign. If the woman was angry, she showed no sign of it, staring out the window once again. A silence fell over them, and an awkward Applejack decided to busy herself with the trip. She had to squint against the sun as the road wound its way through the subtle hills, dropping her hat a little to take the edge off the light. Now that she had a few minutes to think, she realized she had failed to consider what she would do with her passenger once they got to town. Still stung by what she viewed as an accidental insult to Fuyu's name, she felt obligated to try and make it up.

“Y'all can relax at the farmhouse once we get there, if ya like. Until ya get your bearings, I mean. Figure out what ta do next.”

Suddenly, Fuyu's hollow gaze gained a bit of surprise. She turned her head away from the window just enough for her to lay eyes on Applejack. “But you just met me,” she said, an undertone of confusion in her voice.

The blonde was confused now, simply because she didn't understand the confusion she heard. She lifted her hat to scratch at her head, glancing between Fuyu and the road. “Well, yeah. So what? Ya need a place to crash, and we've got room. It's no problem!”

That strange pang returned forcefully, causing Fuyu to raise up from the door and sit stiffly in her seat with her hands firmly on her knees. Applejack blinked, not comprehending the reaction, and feared she'd again done something wrong. “I mean, ya don't have ta, if ya--”

“Thank you.”

It was gratitude unlike the blonde had ever seen it, stone-faced and distant and unpracticed, a raw emotion without any shape or direction. She still felt better about the situation, but the oddness of the tone and demeanor stuck to the back of her mind and nagged at her for a few miles after she nodded and smiled in reply.

Outside, the scenery changed; houses were now planted in the sparse clumps of trees on both sides of the highway, and traffic began to increase. The buildings grew increasingly thick until they lined the road, which was now more a street than a highway. They passed a large wooden sign proclaiming the town limits of Ponyville and the date of the town's establishment, at which Fuyu only glanced. Applejack pulled into a parking spot beside the sidewalk, in front of a white building whose sign identified it as a farmer's supply store. Fuyu stared up at it for a moment, then through the plate glass windows at the shelves lined with items inside. She heard faint words behind her and turned to see that the blonde was counting out bills from a wad of money and laying them on her lap. Once she'd counted them all, she grabbed them up again in a clump and looked back with a small smile.

“Sit tight, gotta pick up a few things in here. Won't take long!” She waved and climbed out of the truck. Fuyu watched her enter the store, once again leaning on the door as she stared. She continued to watch for several minutes, only snapping out of her fugue when she again saw Applejack at the store counter, attempting to maneuver two heavy bags of something. She raised up as she saw the blonde having a slightly animated conversation with the man behind the counter, after which she folded her arms, made an annoyed face, and walked out of the store. She came up to the passenger door and motioned for Fuyu to roll down the window.

“I really hate to bother ya about this, but can ya help me load up some of this stuff?” she asked, an apologetic look in her eyes. “Joe's runnin' the place by himself today...says he's got a bad back. I think he's just lazy,” she added, smirking. “Would ya mind?”

Fuyu wordlessly opened the door and slid out onto the sidewalk, smoothing back her hair and following Applejack into the store. Joe was busy ringing up the rest of Applejack's purchases, and indicated he'd already scanned the two heavy bags of fertilizer. The blonde stooped down by one, motioning for Fuyu to go and stand at the other end of it.

“Now, these are real heavy,” she warned, preparing to grab her end of the bag. “We're gonna have ta lift it toget--” She fell silent as Fuyu, after some contemplation of the item, not only grabbed her end and lifted, but pulled the bag toward her, slid her left hand under it, and hefted it onto her right shoulder with a low grunt. Noting the silence, she looked at both Applejack and Joe, staring from behind the counter.

“What?” she asked of them.

“Dang, girl!” Applejack blurted out, her mouth slightly open with shock as she stood up. “I didn't think anybody but Big Macintosh could do that!”

Fuyu shrugged her free shoulder and began walking, her gait seemingly unchanged by the cargo. “I'll be back for the other one,” she stated as she pushed open the door. Applejack blinked as she watched the other woman handle the bag; Fuyu wasn't quite as tall as the blonde, and she certainly wasn't as stout; she simply could not figure out where the strength was coming from. As she promised, Fuyu wandered back in as Applejack gathered up her other purchases, lifting the second bag with as little trouble as the first. This time, Applejack followed her out after paying.

“I am serious, that's amazin'!” she said, placing several smaller bags full of various items into the truckbed as Fuyu dropped the heavy bag in. “I oughta tell Big Macintosh just ta stay out west and hire ya,” she added with a chuckle, walking around to get back in the truck.

Fuyu said nothing in reply as she did the same, and in a moment more they were off again. Applejack turned the truck around and began going back from whence they came, although about a mile past the town limit she took a right turn onto a dusty, winding road. The trees began to change in their type and placement; dozens of the same kind stood in neat rows as far as Fuyu could see. The road undulated firmly, snaking between hills and wandering generally upward until reaching the crest of a wide, green plateau that seemed to be in the center of the hilly terrain. On this ground sat a bright red barn with a black roof, and a two-story farmhouse clad in pale yellow siding, with twin chimneys jutting through the gray shingles. Applejack brought the truck to a stop between the two buildings.

“Here we are!” she chirped, climbing out of the truck. Fuyu exited a moment later after looking around a bit more, and went to the rear of the vehicle. The farmer was in the bed, grabbing the smaller bags. “Could ya take these two to the barn for me? I don't wanna leave 'em out in the sun too long.”

Fuyu nodded quietly and climbed into the bed, using the back tire as a stepping stone. She picked up one of the bags, again placing it on her shoulder, and jumped back out onto the ground. She landed on her feet with a thud, kneeling to dissipate the force before standing and walking to the barn.

“Seriously, how can ya carry that so easy?” Applejack shouted from the truckbed, a slightly jealous look on her face.

Fuyu contemplated that for a moment; the bag weighed about as much as the bodies she was so good at hauling around, so the answer was, to her, quite obvious. With a shrug, she called back simply, “Practice,” before disappearing into the barn. Inside, she found some like sacks of fertilizer in a corner off to the left, so she deposited her own bag there and went back out for the other. She retrieved and carried this bag as easily as the first, and by the time she was again outside, Applejack was at the front door of the farmhouse fiddling with a key ring.

She arrived just as the farmer got the door open. The interior of the house betrayed some of its age, but was otherwise well kept. What wasn't painted a soothing green was bare wood, including the floors and ceiling. All the furniture was worn in some way; the red couch needed new upholstery here and there, the wooden end tables were scratched, the enormous coffee table was chipped. Against the wall facing the couch, between two windows, was a brand new flat panel TV that looked entirely out of place amongst everything else. Against the back wall was a staircase, whose side was painted green like the walls, and had a small door built in. Applejack carried the bags in her arms to this door, opened it, and set them inside.

“Whew!” she sighed, dabbing at her forehead again with the handkerchief. “Make yourself at home,” she added, waving Fuyu over to the fat couch. She walked over slowly and sat down, looking behind her as she heard noise from the stairs. A brown and white dog with a red collar scrambled down the steps, tail wagging furiously as she ran over to Applejack.

“Hey, Winona,” she smiled, stopping and crouching down to pet her. When the dog saw Fuyu, she barked once and ran around the couch, jumping up and sniffing at the new arrival. “Be nice, girl.” Winona wagged her tail happily, expecting pets that Fuyu, after a blinking a few times, finally gave her. After that, the dog jumped down and followed Applejack into the kitchen. “Thirsty?” she called, opening the door and looking at Fuyu, who nodded back in reply. She reached into the fridge and pulled out two glass bottles, one of which she tossed all the way through the kitchen and back into the living room. Surprised, Fuyu caught it and turned it in her hand to look at the label. 'Sparkling Apple Juice', it said, and on the bottom of the colorful label was a yellow ribbon bearing the words 'Sweet Apple Acres'. She opened it and began drinking as Applejack sat down on the couch beside her.

“We made that,” she said proudly, taking a powerful swig. “Grew the apples here, harvested 'em, pressed 'em. Only things that came from outside were the bottles an' the fizz.” She looked at Fuyu to gauge how impressed she was, but found the needle hadn't moved a bit; she didn't say a word, or even look back. Sightly annoyed, Applejack took another drink and tried to shake off the sting. “So, where ya from?”

That certainly got a reaction from her guest, but not the kind she expected. Fuyu looked up at her, eyes hollow. “I don't know.”

Applejack opened her mouth to say something, but her mind stopped her from letting the words out. How could ya not know?, she wanted to say, but realized just in time how blunt and uncaring that would have sounded. She looked down at the bottle in her hands for a moment, deliberately collecting her thoughts for a very careful reply. “Ya...ya don't know?” she finally asked, her tone overflowing with gentleness.

“I don't know,” Fuyu repeated, now gazing down at her lap. “I have no idea at all.”

Suddenly, the farmer felt more uncomfortable than she had in a long while. She set her bottle on the coffee table and turned to face her guest more fully, but didn't move any closer. “What do ya know? If ya don't mind my askin', I mean. I sure don't wanna pry.”

Fuyu's answer was short, and made Applejack cringe with sympathy. “Just my name.”

“That's it?” She sat up straight, her face an open-mouthed mask of something between compassion and shock. The woman in black nodded quietly, but wasn't emotional in the least. Somehow, that made Applejack feel even worse. “Oh, honey...” She did the only thing she felt was right in that moment, which was place her hand on Fuyu's left shoulder. “I can't imagine how you must feel.”

She wasn't the only one. Fuyu looked down at the hand, then allowed her eyes to travel up the arm and to the face of its owner. “It's all I've ever known,” she finally admitted, her voice unnervingly toneless.

Applejack wanted to give this woman the biggest hug she could muster, but was wont to violate her personal space without asking first. For now, she stayed her arms, withdrawing her hand. “Y'all can stay here for as long as ya need.”

Again, Fuyu regarded the kindness with confusion. “But you just met me,” she said, almost perfectly repeating the statement the same way she had earlier. This time, however, Applejack believed she was much closer to understanding why.

“Y'all haven't been treated very kindly, have ya?”

Fuyu seemed to slump a little, but her face was blank. “I suppose not,” she stated quietly, then drank again from her bottle.

Applejack folded her arms and attained a very serious air. “I don't care. All my friends'll tell ya I can spot a liar or a thief or a bad apple...” she paused for just a moment to snicker at her fruit pun, “...from a mile away. You don't seem like any of 'em. I don't have any problem lettin' ya stay here, and I can give ya work, if ya want it.”

Fuyu, for lack of a better term, had been stunned speechless, but her face was just as blank and expressionless as ever. “What could I do here?” she finally asked.

“Heck, anything! You're strong as an ox! I can always use someone like that,” Applejack said, waving her hand as she stood up. “Besides, with my brother – that's Big Macintosh – and my Granny Smith out west for a while, I could...” she trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck and looking rather sheepish, “Well, I could use the extra company. It's just me and my little sister here. The place gets kinda lonely.”

Fuyu tilted her head very slightly and blinked. “Very well.”

“Woman of few words, huh,” the farmer chuckled lightly. “Tell ya what, in the mornin' I'll show you the routine, then ya can see how ya handle it. If ya do well, then we can talk about your pay. How's that sound?”

“All right,” Fuyu nodded simply, finishing off the contents of her bottle.

“Great! Now, I'm starvin',” she muttered, Winona running circles around her feet as she returned to the kitchen. “How about you?”

“Not really,” she replied, her face completely straight.

“Suit yourself,” Applejack shrugged. Fuyu watched her wander around the kitchen and start cooking, breaking into a mostly one-sided discussion as she did so about her little sister's picky eating habits. The woman in black's mind immediately darted back to the two women at the cabin. For an hour, she listened to the farmer speak glowingly about Apple Bloom, and after a while, Fuyu could only sigh as she spoke. After a while more of watching the blonde smile and listening to her crow about her family, she realized something:

The thought of eating this woman was actually making her frown.