I. Panificae Metue
A/N: Ambience Music
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I woke up and looked out the window. It was still dark outside and I could have easily gone back to sleep. The moonlight was illuminating the room, brighter than normal. That was when I noticed a familiar pattern on the moon I had not seen in years: it was none other than the Mare in the Moon.
The thought puzzled me, as I’d been taught in school that Luna was saved by the Elements of Harmony. Ever since that day, the Mare in the Moon had vanished. My personal hero among the Elements was Rainbow Dash. She had enough loyalty to her friends to resist the temptation of the Shadowbolts. Ever since I discovered she was the Element of Loyalty, I had looked up to her.
I closed my eyes and pulled the warm blanket closer in around me. I could ask Cheerilee about the Mare in the Moon at school tomorrow. By my best guess, I would be able to sleep several more hours before the sunlight poured through my window. An odd thought occurred to me, causing me to open my eyes and look at the moon again.
My bedroom was on the east side of the house, which meant the sun and moon rose outside my window. If the moon was rising, then it must barely be seven o’clock. I know for a fact I went to bed around ten last night, so how could the moon just now be rising? Had Luna broken into Applejack’s cider cellar again? As amusing as the thought was, the moon went from full to new and back again a dozen times that night.
Sighing, I kicked off my blankets and rolled over onto my hooves. It gave me a chance to stretch my sore wings. They had finally hit their growth spurt and Dash assured me I’d be flying in no time. I flexed them until the stiff joints popped, and glanced over at the clock. It was fifteen to seven and I realized I must have slept all day.
If I slept all day, why didn’t my mom or dad wake me up?
Both wings buzzed as I glided across the room to the door. It was a bad habit to buzz my wings, one I’d picked up from riding my scooter, but it still felt natural. One day I’d have to learn to fly properly.
The door swung open and the old hinges let out a high pitched squeal. I flattened my ears against my head, wishing my father would replace them soon like he’d promised. The floorboards were nearly as bad, and each step I took caused them to creak a little.
I chuckled and looked back in my room. My parents couldn’t afford a nicer place, and in fact had spent most of their money to keep me happy. Wonderbolts posters and even artwork of the Elements of Harmony and Dash covered the walls. I had all the Wonderbolt action figures, a toolbox with everything I needed to fix my scooter, and saddlebags full of school supplies.
When I saw my bag full of pencils and paper, I realized school was the last thing I remembered. I did not recall dinner, going to bed, or why I might have slept through a whole day.
There was no time for these thoughts as I wanted to find out what day it was pronto. Why would my parents let me sleep all afternoon?
Our one floor house only had two rooms, two baths, a living room and a kitchen crammed into the smallest space possible. It wouldn’t take me long to find my parents for an explanation.
I closed my door behind me and walked out into the living room. “Mom? Dad?” There was no reply. The small wood-burning stove we used to heat our house had a few glowing embers in it. There was no other sign here of our occupancy, so I headed into the kitchen.
Twisted branches danced menacingly along the tile floor, as if they were tentacles writhing towards my hooves. The neighbor’s tree was visible through the window, swaying in the wind. With nopony here, I turned to leave and shivered as something scratched against the window. A quick glance calmed me—it was just a branch from the tree.
I huffed at my foolishness. Dash had assured me that there was nothing to fear but fear itself. She had traveled across Equestria, faced evil villains, and changeling armies. If she told me the grim fairy tales from Stalliongrad were nothing but campfire stories I believed her. There were no monsters under the bed, or evil entities that delight in the torture of others.
My hoofsteps continued to echo across the silent house as I approached my parents’ door. As I bit the handle I heard the door lock disengage, and I nudged it open. Part of me was worried about what I’d find inside. I had walked in on them once while Dad was ‘wrestling’ Mom, but I knew what they were really up to.
There was nothing in the room to be scared of. It was as empty as the rest of the house. The only difference was the cold wind blowing through the window. I felt the gusts of cold wind pass by me into the living room, and they cut to the bone, chilling me. A loud racket of banging wood filled the bedroom as the shutters outside kept banging against the house.
Floorboards continued their creaking and the shutters continued their percussion. Once I had climbed up onto the nightstand, I was able to reach the window and slide it close. It stopped the wind, but the shutter was still banging against the side of the house. I wasn’t in the mood to reach out and latch it.
From here I could see my parents’ bed was perfectly made, as if they had not slept in it. That made sense because they didn’t go to bed until midnight, but nothing explained why they’d both leave the house without telling me. I decided to go see Sweetie Belle, as she lived nearby. If my parents had to leave in a hurry, they would have at least let Rarity know to check on me.
The trip to the front door did little to ease my worries. There was no note, no dishes drying in the sink, and I began to get the sinking feeling I was being watched. I tried to compose myself and focus on what Rainbow Dash would do. She wouldn’t be scared of anything. In fact, I decided that I would go find her if Rarity and Sweetie weren’t home. Dash always knows what to do.
The front door nearly knocked me over as I grabbed the door handle. The wind outside was still strong and cold. My Pegasi senses estimated eight miles per hour, north by northwest. The low pressure could mean rain or fog. I couldn’t help but smile as I struggled to pull the door closed. Even if I hadn’t found a cutie mark while out on my crusades I was still becoming skilled at predicting weather, but I didn’t want to become just another weather pony. At least Dash was proof a weather pony could still be cool, just in case that was my special talent. Maybe my cutie mark doesn’t have to involve stunts or hoops of fire to become a Wonderbolt.
Once the door was closed I started to walk down the street. I regretted not bringing something to keep warm. My feathers and topcoat of hair did little to block out the freezing wind. My soft undercoat and lack of body fat, while desirable in an athlete, meant I was not insulated against such cold. I planned to live in a cloud house like Dash once I was better equipped for this kind of weather.
The town was desolate. I could not recall ever leaving my house and not seeing anypony. There were always one or two on the wide streets, even at night. Dust blew through the intersection I stood in and clung to my fur. To my right was town hall and town square. There was not a single light in any of the windows, and not a single pony walking that street. I noticed the fog bank rolling into town, pouring around town hall and approaching me.
Looking straight ahead I saw a few lit windows and Twilight’s library in the distance. If all else failed, she would surely be able to help me figure out what was going on. Still, Rarity’s house was two houses down on my left. Looking in that direction, I saw the shutters were all open and a faint light coming from inside.
"Ultra mortem mori non potest."
I heard whispering behind me but could not understand the words. I spun to face behind me, expecting to find their source. The voice that spoke them had seemed distant, yet deep and ancient. Nothing but the wind and rustling branches of a tree were there.
Unable to shake my unease, I trotted quickly towards the boutique. Maybe everypony had to evacuate, or the town was attacked, but my parents wouldn’t have left me behind. Where is everypony?
The door to Rarity’s home was unlocked and I let myself in, closing it behind me. At once the cold wind died and I found myself feeling warmer and safer already. The Belle family would surely take me in until we figured out where everypony had gone.
The first thing I noticed was that Rarity had left her mannequins and sewing supplies out, strewn across the floor. Wherever she had gone, she had done so in a hurry. I began to explore in earnest, walking around the mess and glancing between all the models in the windows. They cast elongated shadows across the room.
Each window held two of them, some dressed in fine evening wear, and others awaiting a dress for them to display. I stopped and flinched as a spool of ribbon rolled across the floor in front of me, before I began chuckling. That thin red stretch of cloth had rolled out of nowhere. I turned to face the direction it had come from and found one of the windows empty.
I glanced around, counting the mannequins. There were still two in each window, except for that one. My mind was probably playing tricks and I had counted wrong. The ribbon was still in front of me and I kicked it, sending it sailing across the room. This whole day was stupid, and so help me: if this was some prank or surprise party, I’d strangle Pinkie. I hate being pranked.
As I trotted forward I saw Rarity on the far side of the room. Huge bolts of fabric were between us, as well as two mannequins that seemed intent on blocking my path. They had ridiculous expressions stitched on their faces. Each one was so close to looking like a real pony, but they’re weren’t. My mind struggled to decipher them; their appearance was unsettling. If they were so real, shouldn’t they look like a normal pony? Yet, they appeared so fake that they settled into an uncomfortable area and I had to look away.
My path around the bolts of fabric came to a stop when something caught my leg and I fell down. Swearing like I’d once heard my father do, I cursed Celestia’s name as I nurtured my sore knee. It had landed hard and knocked into a nerve, sending a painful sensation throughout the whole leg.
Looking behind me, I saw a spool of red ribbon. “What the hell? This is the stupidest damn night ever.” I picked the ribbon up and threw it towards the door as hard as I could. It bounced against it and rolled away, right towards the nearest window. Looking up, I noticed it was also empty. There were now two empty windows and four missing models.
The two that had blocked my path were still there, yet I had counted perfectly! There was only one empty window, not two. Who could be in here moving them around?
“Sweetie? Pinkie? Anypony? What’s going on here?”
I got up to my hooves and awaited a reply. Movement caught the corner of my eye, but when I looked I saw nothing but an expressionless plastic pony showcasing a Gala dress. “Dammit, Rarity, what is going on here?!”
Looking back towards Rarity, I no longer saw her standing next to the sewing machine from earlier. Instead, I saw yet another blasted mannequin blocking my path.
“How the hell are you guys moving these things? Quick bucking around!”
My pace quickened as I made my way around the mess and over towards where I’d seen Rarity at. The situation was quickly getting out of hoof and causing me to be scared over nothing. I kept expecting ponies to jump out at any moment, shooting streamers and congratulating me on some random event in my life. Oh, Scootaloo, congratulations! It’s your 5,800th day alive!
A cursory glance behind me revealed six mannequins now lined up behind me, barring the exit. I stumbled backwards as I turned to look back at them and fell onto my back, pinching one of my wings painfully. A tuft of purple hair was visible above me and I tilted my head back.
Upside down and above me stood Rarity. “Oh thank Celestia, Rarity! What is going on?”
I quickly rolled over onto my hooves and looked up at her. Her fur had turned ashen white and her purple mane unnaturally glossy. I followed the curled hair up towards her face, and began to shrink in horror, pulling my wings in tightly and flattening my ears against my head.
“R-Rarity?”
Her eyes had taken on the look of glass, perfectly round and unwavering. Light glimmered off their polished surface, and as I focused I could see the reflection of the store models behind me. The muzzle and her nose looked like a twisted black fabric, stained with grey streaks from the corners of her eyes.
“T-this isn’t h-happening. It’s a j-joke, right? A n-nightmare?”
Rarity stood there still as stone. I began to back up slowly to her side, when I heard the sound of splintering wood. Her legs began to lift from the pedestal they were attached to. Bits of wood fell off as the mount supporting her crumbled.
Her head turned to face me, and I saw her lips. They were stitched on, artificial, and yet the thick black threads began to stretch and snap. Beneath the fuzzy fur and fake stitched lips, blood began to drip out.
“S-Scootaloo. . . please. . .k-kill me. . .” Rarity begged.
I felt time stop as my pupils widened and my heart took off, racing. My muscles tensed as my body responded in the only way it knew how; the adrenaline in my veins now the only thing standing between me and this monstrosity.
“P-please, you. . . must. . .”
My mouth opened wordlessly—I was at a loss. How does one prepare for this, fix this? It isn’t possible!
A blood curdling scream filled the air and I recognized it instantly. “Sweetie Belle!” I spun around to go rescue her and was surrounded by eight mannequins, inches from my face. This time I leapt backwards, landing a few feet away. Spools of ribbon littered the floor and quickly flew around my hooves in an attempt to bind them together.
Screaming filled the air again as Rarity’s leathery horn glowed a sickening yellow. I had to save Sweetie, but I couldn’t think rationally. I blinked and a mannequin was instantly inches in front from me, baring its fangs and reaching forward. The shock sent me careening backwards. I recovered at the last second, jumping up as the ribbons attempted to hold me down.
My hind hooves made contact with the wall behind me with a loud crack that echoed through the empty house. Both wings buzzed as I dove forward, managing a short flight through the air towards the exit. Shutters began slamming shut as I passed the windows, hearing for the door.
“No! Please, STOP! AHH—” Sweetie continued screaming as I sprinted across the floor. The thudding shutters continued closing, heading towards the door. I would likely be locked in if I didn’t escape now. There was no time to save her.
I sprinted forward and leapt at the door as soon as I landed on the other side of the mannequins. It flew open as I heard the deadbolt engage, missing the latch in the door frame by inches. I stumbled across the ground, feeling feathers being torn out of place.
Looking through the doorway revealed mannequins piling up to fit through it. I pushed myself backwards, keeping my eyes on them in horror. After a moment I realized I had passed the small picket fence around Rarity’s shop.
I turned and ran. Like a scared filly, I left Sweetie behind in the hooves of those foul creatures, and her haunting screams were carried by the wind as I blindly fled for my life. I had failed her, and she would pay the price for my cowardice.
My lungs were burning and my legs began to feel like rubber. I dared not look behind me, for I knew they would be in hot pursuit. Instead, I ran into the nearest building and slammed the door behind me, locking the deadbolt.
I slumped down on the floor and tried to catch my breath. The adrenaline still had my heart beating faster than I knew possible. It felt like it would leap out of my chest, followed closely by the contents of my stomach. I felt the urge to vomit, and my legs were numb from the ordeal.
Taking stock of my situation revealed two scrapped legs, a gash in my flank, and my left wing managing to lose over half the primaries. Despite my soreness, I stood up to figure out where I was. It only took me a second to recognize Sugarcube Corner. There were party streamers and decorated tables everywhere.
It almost looked like someone was preparing for a feast, except there were no guests. There were only plates, utensils, chairs, and fancy decorations. If Pinkie had been throwing me a party, this was it. Yet, with the horror I had just gone through, I doubted it was that simple.
My mind recalled that I could pinch myself to wake up. I decided to bite my lip, drawing a little blood by accident. The pain did not wake me up, so I banged my sore leg against the wall. That did nothing either.
“No! Somepony, what the hell is going on?”
Before I knew it, I had slumped over and was beginning to cry. Something pink caught the corner of my eye and I sighed in relief. A cloth brushed against my cheek, wiping away the tears. She then held it firmly over my nose, causing me to struggle to breath. A sickly sweet smell filled my lungs and I began to feel light headed.
I tried to stand in confusion, making it halfway before blacking out.
"Saporem pulli habes."
Faint whispers mocked me as I awoke with a headache. My hair felt damp, as if just washed, and I was considerably warmer than before. I struggled to shake off a cramp in my hind right leg, only causing it to get worse. Crying out in pain, I tried to roll over, but nothing happened.
“First you take a cup of seasoning, add it to the mix!”
“P-Pinkie?” I asked. Was she still out there?
As I became more alert I looked around for her and saw long strands of purple hair strewn across the floor. I looked back and saw my mane and tail had been removed, as had all my feathers. This realization caused me to notice the stinging pains where all my primaries and other feathers had been plucked.
It also led me to the reason I could not move. Twine had been wrapped around my legs and torso, binding them tightly together. The thin string was so tight it nearly vanished in my fur and bit painfully into my skin. My hooves had been covered by white paper frills, hiding the tips of my legs.
I struggled to free one of my legs but they were too tightly bound. Next I tried my wings, which could move a little more, yet were also being pinched by the twine.
“Now take a little something sour, not sweet, a bit of lemon, just a squirt!”
“Pinkie, what’s going on? What are you doing?”
The familiar sensation of sheer horror washed over me. She had redone her hair to be straight, lacking its usual puffiness. Hey eyes held no sense of recognition as she looked at me and licked her lips. Pinkie carried over a large bowl and set it next to me.
“Stop, please! What are you doing?!” I shivered as she pulled a dripping brush out and began to run it over my fur. It was sticky and had a salty odor.
“Cooking ponies is such a cinch, a little basting with broth!”
I squirmed in my bindings as she continued to ignore my pleas for help. The whole time she covered me in juices until I was dripping wet.
“Add a little more and count to four, you’ll soon eat your first swath.”
“Dammit, Pinkie, stop this! What the buck is going on?!” I screamed.
She frowned—her first response to my protests. Pinkie picked up a large apple and walked in front of me. She then slammed a hoof into my nose, causing my eyes to water as I cried out in agony.
I felt a sharp pain as she jammed the apple into my mouth. My jaw burnt and cramped as she continued pounding the apple in, nearly choking me. Finally she stopped, and I struggled to spit the apple out or chew through it. My jaw was so sore and the apple so large I could not. I resigned myself to crying and hoping for mercy.
The twine began to cut into one of my legs, and the more I struggled the worse it got.
“Scootaloo! So sweet and tasty!”
I thought the worst was over as I lay in a pan in the middle of Pinkie’s kitchen. I then felt her press something up against my anus. It was cold metal, and made me gasp through my nose. The object met little resistance as I could not move, and painfully forced itself open inside me.
Next, I felt her shoving something in. What little I could feel was mushy. Looking back made me wish I hadn’t, as she was shoveling a large bowl of stuffing inside me. I renewed my struggling, kicking out with every muscle possible, and succeeding only in making her ratchet the device even wider in response.
My head fell to the pan as I struggled to breathe and she finished her task.
“Scootaloo! Don’t be too hasty!”
This was it. This was how was going to die: in the oven of a mad mare. Sure enough, the device was removed and something very sticky applied to keep the stuffing inside me. Next, I watched helplessly as I was slid into a hot oven.
“Scootaloo! Scootaloo, Scootaloo, SCOOTALOO!” Pinkie sang, finishing her song.
The door closed and she sat down on the other side of the glass, watching.
The uncomfortable heat was building quickly and I squirmed as the metal pan began to burn the skin of my legs. Each breath was painful as the dry heat robbed my lungs of moisture, causing them to burn.
My eyes hurt the most, and watered in an attempt to protect themselves. I glanced at Pinkie but couldn’t keep them open. I closed my eyelids, feeling the scorched eyes sting in pain.
I was quickly getting dizzy and my head kept slumping onto the frying pan, burning my cheeks. My skin felt like it was on fire and I could smell sizzling meat. I caught sight of a few large blisters on my pink and red skin as my eyelids shriveled open. My fur had burnt completely off, and I felt my bladder empty.
The smell of urine boiling alongside me in the pan was nauseating, yet I did not have the strength to vomit. I thought back to my hero, Dash, and how I wished she would save me. Then I recalled how callously I had left Sweetie to her fate—to die alone and scared. If I could go back and do it again, I’d have saved her.
My breathing stopped along with my heart. For a moment I was at peace, my nerves having been killed off moments ago. Death’s cold embrace invigorated me as all feeling left my body.
I could only ponder what was on the other side of the veil of death. Surely, my suffering was over.
"Panificam Timete."
I jolted awake in bed, gasping for air. My lungs burnt as if I couldn’t breathe, and my heart felt like it was being crushed. It took me several seconds to feel my heart beating again, and several more to realize how dry my throat was.
After a moment the pain began to fade, and I recognized my bedroom. I swallowed to wet my mouth, and began to recall the horrific events of my recent nightmare.
A twinge of pain in my foreleg caught my attention and I looked down. There was a small red mark running around it. It burnt slightly, and a faint odor of smoke reached my nostrils. I checked my other legs only to find similar marks—almost like rope burns.
I looked around the sheets, wondering if I had tangled myself in them and given myself these marks. My blanket was still tucked neatly into the corners of the mattress. I lifted the blankets up to gaze underneath them, and saw a piece of burnt twine.
My mind broke, and I batted the string away. I threw the cover over my head and curled up into a ball. I was safe so long as I was under the covers. There is no way I was just cooked alive and survived. It was all a nightmare. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.
I began to tremble and could not stop. The air under the blanket was getting thick and muggy, yet I dared not peek my head out. How could this happen to me? Why weren’t the Elements able to stop it? First Rarity, then Pinkie? No, Dash wouldn’t let anything get them. What is it? Oh Celestia, will it find me again? I don’t want to die!
I began to get light headed from my rapid breathing, and the blanket began to smother me. It was getting hotter and hotter, and soon I felt as if I was back in the oven, being roasted. With a swift motion I kicked the covers off of me. The nearby closet was open a crack and I sprung out of bed, diving inside. I slammed the door shut behind me and curled up in the corner to resume my trembling.
“Please, Dash. . . please,” I pleaded. “Somepony, please. . . help me!”