Fear Of The Dark
A yellow filly was galloping as fast as her hooves could take her. Zigging and zagging her way between the apple orchards, she hurried through the dark evening. With her saddlebag hitting against her back with each step, the little pony was panting heavily as she saw her destination come into view.
Looking at the tree house, the yellow pony saw a faint light being emitted from the windows. She hurried up the ladder and entered the building, where she saw her two friends waiting for her.
“There you are, Applebloom! We were wondering what was taking you so long!” the white unicorn filly welcomed the earth pony.
Breathing heavily from her running, Applebloom replied, “Sorry, ah had to finish packin’ somethin’ in mah bag.”
The pegasus spoke, “Well, did you at least remember your treats? Sweetie Belle and I have been waiting for a while now and I want to eat more than just s’mores.”
“That’s why ah was runnin’ late, Scootaloo. ‘Cause I didn’t wanna forget about packin’ mah homemade apple cupcakes!” Applebloom opened up one of her saddlebag pockets, revealing a plastic bag filled with cupcakes.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about! It wouldn’t be a good Nightmare Night slumber party without apple cupcakes!” Scootaloo mused as she took the bag of baked goods from Applebloom’s saddlebag.
After the orange pegasus took the cupcakes away from Applebloom, the yellow pony noticed what her friends had did while they were waiting for her. In the center of the tree house, they built a fort out of blankets that were hung from the ceiling and pillows surrounding the edges on the bottom. In the center, they had placed a flashlight point upwards, placed small logs around the light and added some orange paper to make the flashlight look like a campfire. Lastly, there were two sleeping bags laid out around the ‘fire’; one belonging to Scootaloo and the other to Sweetie Belle.
“Couldn’t we get more lights here in the tree house? It seems awfully dark….” Applebloom mumbled. The fact that the only light source was pointing upwards not only made her a bit uneasy, but made the entire tree house look spooky in her eyes.
Scootaloo had just finished the cupcake she taken out, “No way! We gotta make this slumber party spooky and creepy, the perfect Nightmare Night sleepover!”
“By the way, where are your pajamas?” Sweetie Belle asked to earth pony friend, taking a bite out of a cupcake.
It was at this moment, Applebloom noticed that Sweetie Belle was in silk, jacket-and-trouser pajamas (most likely picked out or made by her sister Rarity) and Scootaloo was in an oversized, faded blue shirt. “Oh, right! Let me just take all mah stuff outta mah saddlebag. Ah’m sure ah packed it with mah sleepin’ bag,” Applebloom shuffled around in her saddlebag, pulling everything out.
After a few moments of changing and reorganizing everything in the blanket for to accomdate the final member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Applebloom was in her pink, hoofy pajamas and sitting on her laid out sleeping bag around the fake fire.
“Isn’t this great? All of us crusaders, out in the clubhouse, eating junk food around our fire the night before Nightmare Night? It’s so cool!” Sweetie Belle couldn’t contain her excitement.
“Speakin’ of Nightmare Night, what are ya’ll gonna dress up as this year?” the yellow earth pony asked with a smile.
“I’m gonna be a pirate this year! And it’s gonna be even better than Pip’s was!” Scootaloo bragged with a smirk.
Sweetie Belle thought for a moment, “Well, I wanted to do a mummy this year, but Rarity keeps insisting that I do something that isn’t, what she calls, ‘boring to make’, so I don’t know yet. Maybe a clown? What about you, Applebloom?”
“Applejack wants Big Mac an’ me ta do a costume with her. She wants Big Mac ta be a dog, herself ta be a cat, and me ya be a mouse. But ah think ah’d wanna be a big ol’ rotten apple if ah had say in the matter,” Applebloom explained.
“A mouse? A clown? Come on! Nightmare Night is all about scary things and awesome outfits!” Scootaloo objected to the idea of her friend’s outfits.
“But we wanted to do scary things too, just different kind of scary,” Sweetie Belle said as she pulled a plastic bag of marshmallows from her saddlebag.
“Besides, Nightmare Night ain’t all just ‘bout spooky stuff. It doesn’t havta all be scary and such, right?” Applebloom turned to the white unicorn, who nodded at her before she tried to open the plastic bag but to no avail.
As the pegasus reached out to snatch the marshmallows from the unicorn, an idea came to Scootaloo, “Wait, I got an idea! To make this slumber party more spooky and fun like Nightmare Night, why don’t we all tell scary stories?”
“Scary stories?” Applebloom’s eyes narrowed as she echoed Scootaloo’s last two words.
“Yeah, like when we were on that camping trip with Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Rarity, remember?”
The yellow pony was hesitant about the idea, “Ah don’t know, Scootaloo….maybe we should talk ‘bout somethin’ else?”
“Ooo! Ooo! Me! Ooo, me!” Sweetie Belle raised her hoof up and waved it back and forth, trying to get her friend’s attention.
Scootaloo stared at the white filly for a few moments before speaking, “Yes, Sweetie Belle?”
“Can I go first? I know a good story!”
“Sure, go for it,” the orange pony commented as she opened up the bag of marshmallows. Grabbing a stick, Scootaloo placed two marshmallows on one end and placed it over the fake campfire.
“Okay, okay, okay!” Sweetie Belle was eager to start her story, “This story is about a mare named Hera Westphalster. She was the wife of the owner of the Westphalster Firearms Company, a popular brand of weapons back when western Equestria was still a rough and rumble country. She lived in Manehatten with her husband happily for many years. However, after he passed away, Hera went into a deep depression. With her husband’s death, she was granted half of the company, giving her a lot of money. But she still felt really depressed and she couldn’t figure out why. So, she called a medium to visit her. What the medium told Hera Westphalster was that her family was cursed and haunted by ghosts!”
“G-Ghosts?” Applebloom spoke up nervously.
“Ghosts?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Uh-huh, ghosts! The ghosts that were haunting her were the victims of all the ponies that were killed by the firearms made by her husband’s company. The medium then warned that Hera must move out west to San Fransciscolt and build a house for both herself and all of the spirits that haunt her. But there was a catch, she had to keep building the house, making it bigger and bigger, for if she was to stop, she would die as well. She quickly moved out there and began building the house. And building. Spending the money she inherited from her husband’s company, she had the house under construction every hour of each day. And I mean every day! This went on for 36 years until she died. The house was so strange and bizarre. Outside, it looks like some sort of extravagant mansion, but on the inside it was large, confusing and complex. Hera Westphalster herself needed a map to just to walk through her own home. There were strange things like doors that open into solid walls, stairs that lead nowhere or even just drop off, and windows that look into other parts of the house. They say that Hera built it like that to confuse the ghosts themselves. Others say that she was just crazy. But either way, the house still stands today, and it’s said that the ghosts still haunt the mansion, trying to find their way out.”
After Sweetie Belle finished her story, she looked to see a nervous Applebloom and a bored Scootaloo, who was still roasting her marshmallows over the fake fire.
“Is that it?” Scootaloo looked over to the unicorn.
Sweetie Belle nodded, “Yeah, scary, huh?”
“That wasn’t scary!” the pegasus argued, taking some graham crackers and some chocolate out from her saddlebag. “My s’more is scarier than that!”
“I thought it was kinda scary….” the yellow filly admitted.
Scootaloo waved her hoof and spoke just before she took a bite of her s’more, “Come on, I’m sure you can do better than that Applebloom, give it a go.”
Silently, Applebloom thought about what to say, and then began her scary story, “Okay. This isn’t exactly about a pony or anythin’. Rather, it’s ‘bout a buncha strange events. Like, something weird and scary like.”
“A phenomena?” Sweetie Belle interjected.
“Yeah, that,” the earth pony added before continuing with her story, “It’s somethin’ weird that happens once in a while. Ah’ve never seen it mahself, but ah heard it’s really scary ta see. Well, ah guess ah should start with the first known incident. It wasn’t too far from Applaloosa, a cow disappeared from the rest of her herd an’ worried both her fellow cattle an’ the ranchers.”
“A cow? Like the ones on your farm?” Scootaloo asked after she swallowed what was left of her s’more.
“Uh-huh, just like one of them. Anyway, a few days later, the ranchers found the cow….d-dead,” Applebloom had trouble saying the word, “But that’s not the weird part, they found her with her head an’ neck skinned without any flesh, but only her bones remainin’ on her head. They saw that the cuts on her body were done very precise. What’s even more strange was that there wasn’t any blood around her at all and there was a strong odor in the air, like bein’ in a hospital or somethin’.”
Applebloom paused to see that both Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were listening intently to her story. She continued, “The ranchers nor anypony knows what happened or who could have done such a thing. Following that first incident, more of these strange things happened, but each and every one of these cases, there are similar. They include the removal of eyes, tongue, at least one ear, and a maybe an organ or two, like the heart or liver, all done like it was done by a doctor. A lack of blood surroundin’ the body of the cattle is also a very odd sign in these events. And lastly, it’s as if the body had been dropped from someplace. The body is often looks as if it was dropped from some height or somethin’, and it’s bones bein’ broken. And surroundin’ the body, no hoof prints.”
Sweetie Belle was shaking as she spoke, “Wh-What is the cause of all of this?”
“What is it that does all of these things?” Applebloom repeated in her own words, “Lotta ponies keep sayin’ it’s somethin’ natural like predators and stuff. Some say it’s some ponies doin’ it, though ah can’t imagine anypony doin’ such a thing. Others say its some sort of scary creature that we can only begin ta imagine. Me? Ah think it’s some otherworldly beings. Who else could do such a thing to defenseless cows? And who says we’re not next?”
Sweetie Belle let out scream in fear at the end of Applebloom’s story, “Is….Is that all true? About the cows and stuff?”
Applebloom nodded, slightly shaking from her own anecdote.
“That’s not a bad story, Applebloom. You almost had me believing it, that is until you brought up the idea of aliens. I mean, really? Aliens? There’s no way they exist,” Scootaloo commented.
Sweetie Belle turned to look at Scootaloo, quivering in her pajamas as she spoke, “How do you know? They just might!”
“I know that they don’t exist, because this next one does….” Scootaloo took a flashlight of her saddlebag.
“Really….wh-what is it?” the jittery Applebloom asked. She was holding her sleeping bag in her arms as something to help calm her. It wasn’t working.
“It’s….” as Scootaloo started talking, she turned the flashlight underneath her face, causing shadows to appear on her face, “….the werewolf!”
“Werewolf? There’s no such thing, Rarity told me,” Sweetie Belle protested. Her expression was one of curiosity, nevertheless.
“Oh, they exist. My friend’s cousin’s classmate’s brother saw one,” the pegasus explained, “and they like to hunt, too.”
Applebloom’s ears perked up, “Hunt?”
A sly smirk appeared on Scootaloo’s face as she turned the flashlight on again and placed it under her face, “Werewolves love to hunt. When they’re a normal pony, they look for targets to prey upon. Generally, werewolves like to hunt small fillies and colts, taking away naughty youngsters who don’t listen to their parents. But just because they like to hunt colts and fillies doesn’t mean they won’t attack others….in fact, they’ll hunt anything. Even dogs.”
“Not Winona!” Applebloom tightened her hold on her sleeping bag.
“Of course….there are ways to find out if a pony is a werewolf,” Scootaloo edged on, turning the flashlight off.
Sweetie Belle tilted her head in interest, “Huh, like what?”
“Well, some of the signs include one single eyebrow, low ears, and a lot of hair on them. In fact, legend says if you cut the coat of a supposed werewolf, the pony would not bleed, but actually have fur beneath. They also say that when a werewolf turns back into a pony, they will not only be very tired, but also have the same injuries they had as a wolf, that’s how they could tell who was one after a werewolf hunt.” Scootaloo paused for dramatic effect, “But often, these hunts for the werewolves would fail.”
Against her better judgment, the nervous Applebloom spoke up, “W-Why?”
“Because, the werewolves would do one of two things to those who tried to hunt them,” the orange pony explained.
“What did they do?” Sweetie Belle leaned forward, listening closely.
“The obvious thing for the werewolf to do would be to kill the hunters, and could they kill. Those razor sharp claws could rip through anything! But the other method they could do, is turn other ponies in to werewolves,” Scootaloo stopped again, allowing the spookiness to set in, “How did they do this? Well, it’s quite simple really. They would bite the pony or scratch them with their claws. By sparing the victim’s life, the werewolf would pass the curse on to them.”
“Wh-What do they look like?” Applebloom muttered quietly.
“What do the werewolves look like? Well, I was told that they can look a lot like normal wolves, but often, they like to shape shift into a form that looks like some sort of creature that trots on two legs, a wolf-like face, razor sharp claws on each paw, covered from head to hoof in fur, and have a loud and bloodcurdling howl,” the pegasus stated, picking up a few more cupcakes that Applebloom brought to the tree house.
Sweetie Belle raised her hoof and pointed to one of the blanket walls of the fort behind Applebloom, “You mean looking like that?!”
The three fillies turned to see a shadowy figure being projected onto the blanket. Each one of the ponies screamed as the figure stepped closer towards them. With the figure reaching it’s claws towards the blanket, it pulled the blanket back to reveal itself, howling loudly.
“Werewolf!” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle cried out together as the both clinged to one another for safety.
“Ah don’t wanna be a werewolf!” Applebloom shouted in terror as she covered herself with her sleeping bag.
With her eyes still closed, Scootaloo threw the cupcake she had in the direction of the shadowy figure they had just seen.
“Ow! Hey, watch where you throw things!” a familiar voice complained as he continued to step into the blanket fort.
The three ponies all opened their eyes open to see a small purple and green dragon before them.
“Spike?” Sweetie Belle was the first to speak, “Was that you who howled?”
“Heh, yeah,” the dragon admitted with a chuckle, “When I heard Scootaloo telling the story, I couldn’t help but try to scare you girls.”
Applebloom’s face was flushed red as she began to repeatedly hit Spike with her sleeping bag, “Jerk! How dare ya do such a thing to us!”
Scootaloo was silent as she threw another cupcake at Spike, which hit him square in the head.
“Come on, can’t you ponies take a joke?” Spike insisted as he sat down. Picking up one of the cupcakes that was thrown at him, he took a bite, “Anyway, what are ya girls doing?”
“We were having a slumber party, complete with a fort and a campfire,” Sweetie Belle stated, pointing out the fake fire they had constructed from the flashlight.
Finally stopping her attack on the dragon, Applebloom added, “An’….we were tellin’ scary stories, cause Scootaloo wanted to….”
“Scary stoires? Now ya got my attention! What stories were ya talking about?” the dragon asked, finishing the cupcake, “Wow, these are really good cupcakes, Applebloom.”
“Well,” Scootaloo recalled, “Sweetie Belle started by telling some lame ghost stories, Applebloom told a weird incidents with cows and aliens or something, and I told the story about werewolves.”
“That’s it? Come on, those are stories to scare little ponies. Now if you girls want a really scary campfire story, I can do that for ya,” Spike bragged, chuckling sinisterly.
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged nervous glances to each other. “I don’t know….” the unicorn spoke, “I mean, we still should get some sleep and all….”
“Yeah….what Sweetie Belle said….” Applebloom added.
Scootaloo stuck her tongue out at her friends, “Oh, don’t be chicken! Tell us a good one, Spike!”
The dragon chuckled with a devilish grin as he leaned in to begin, “Heh heh, alright. The story begins with an adventurer up in the forest of the Crystal Mountains. An icy blizzard was storming as he trekked along what he though was the path. He was cold, tired and hungry, but he still had a ways to go to find shelter for the night. The howl of the wind had become second nature to his ears, just white noise to him now. But his ears twitched at a new sound.”
“See, girls? That’s how you tell a story!” Scootaloo complimented Spike’s story telling.
Sweetie Belle giggled slightly, “Hehe, I’ve got goosebumps!”
Applebloom was silent as she held her sleeping bag close to her.
“Can I resume?” Spike wasn’t happy he was interrupted. “Where was I? Oh, right! He could hear this strange new sound amongst the rushing wind. It was a hiss. This noise was almost that of a snake. But our adventurer knew better; a snake would never reveal itself in the snow. There was only one answer of what it could be. He didn’t want to believe it, so he trotted onward against the wind, his hooves crushing the snow and making new tracks in the fresh powder. Each step was taking more energy out of him. He stopped to catch his breath. It was in this moment, there were four sounds rang through his ears; the howling wind, his own heavy breathing, the hissing sound he was trying to run from, and the sounds of steps in the snow.”
Each of the Cutie Mark Crusaders were hanging on every one of Spike’s words.
“He quickly turned his head around to see where the sound of steps in the snow was coming from. There was nothing. He turned his head in other directions. Nothing as well. He was alone. At least, that was what he thought until he looked down at the snow. The wind and the snow were working together, covering the tracks he had just made. However, he saw a pair of tracks that were not his own. A pair of tracks that were not made by ponies.”
“Ah don’t like this story….” the yellow pony admitted as she shook like a leaf.
Scootaloo was visibly shaken, but she wouldn’t let on, “D-Don’t be such a coward, Applebloom….come on, Spike, keep going….”
“The pony knew about the creature. He was warned before he ventured out into the woods. He was told the legend of the creature: a massive being that stood on two limbs, pale grey skin tightly wrapped around it’s large skeleton, deeply sunken eyes, bloodied claws and lips, and a scent of decay, death and corruption. They were known as wendigos.”
“H-How….How did these creatures come to be?” Sweetie Belle pleaded to know.
Spike continued, “These creatures, once ponies themselves, had become monsters in one of two ways. One story states that a pony who has eaten other ponies slowly turn into a wendigo, growing more and more hungry for the flesh of their own kind. Another legend has it that a pony would be possessed by a demonic spirit of a wendigo in their dreams, transforming them into the creature. If the wendigo chooses to possess the pony, than the victim becomes a monster themselves, hunting down their own kind and feasting upon their loved ones.”
“They….They eat p-ponies?” Applebloom mumbled in fear.
“The ponies that are eaten by wendigos are lucky compared to those who are turned into wendigos themselves. As a wendigo, they are constantly hungry, never being full, always wanting more,” the dragon explained, adding an emphasis with his last sentence. “And our traveler knew this. The hissing was growing around him. While the storm made it difficult for him to figure out where the monster was. He looked in all directions, only seeing a few trees around him and a flurry of snow in the wind. He hoped and prayed to Celestia that he could loose the wendigo. Finding what little energy he had inside him, the traveler galloped off in a random direction, trying his best to get away from the hissing of the wendigo. The rush of the wind intensified as he bolted away. He panted hard as he trotted, but the sound of the wendigo’s hissing was still loud in his ears. Stopping with his back against a tree, he listened again to assess his surroundings while he held his breath. Only the wind, his thumping heart, and the intense sound of the hissing could be heard, and the wendigo was getting louder. The traveler could tell, the wendigo was playing with his food. The hissing grew louder.”
The three filly’s ears stood up. “Did you hear that?” Sweetie Belle jumped and looked around in a panicky fashion.
Applebloom shook violently, “Ah hear it, too!”
The orange pegasus couldn’t keep her brave face on any longer, “Th-That can’t be a wendigo, right Spike? They only live up in the Crystal Mountains….l-like in the story, right?”
“I never said they didn’t live elsewhere….” Spike answered, keeping a deadpan face.
A loud hissing noise suddenly filled the tree house, causing the ponies to jump up from their spots around the fake fire. On each of the girl’s faces, an expression of terror and fear. The strange and unnerving hissing grew, causing the three fillies to huddle together to hold each other.
Finally, Applebloom screamed in panic, “That’s it! Ah can’t take it! Ah’m not a big pony, ah’m a scaredy pony!” With that, she galloped out of the blanket fort and out of the tree house. Following close behind, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle rushed out of the tree house in a hurry as well with screams of fright, begging for their friend to wait for them both. In their alarm, they knocked down the flashlight fire they had made.
Now alone in the tree house, Spike started to laugh hard. With the knocked over flashlight shining onto the far blanket wall, he picked up some of the sweet treats in front of him. “Haha! I can’t believe those fillies fell for that fake hissing! Who knew such a dumb story like that could scare them off like that! Looks like I get to eat all of the cupcakes and candy they left behind! Haha!”
As the dragon laughed loudly in the tree house, he didn’t hear a faint but growing sound behind him. Steps on the wooden floorboards, non-pony steps, echoed along with Spike’s laughter. The large, pale figure raised its large arms into the air and hissed an otherworldly sound. Finally turning around, Spike looked at the figure as his face lost all expression. The monster of his story was before him, ready to devour him.
END