> Revenge of the Dumb Fabric
>  by Bootsy Slickmane
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Rumpling in the Dark
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


I've waited far too long for this moment. She insulted me. She cut me to pieces and then hung me out to dry. She used me to make a mockery of fashion. I was ruined. Damaged goods. Nopony wanted me anymore, not for anything but scrap. A crueler filly I'd never met before, and still haven't met since. Tonight, she will pay.



Sweetie Belle pushed open the bedroom door slowly, the disappointment plain on her face. All she wanted was to do something nice for her sister while her parents were on vacation, and yet everything she did was met with an exasperated scolding from Rarity. It seemed she just wasn't suited for success when it came to Rarity's fashionable trade.

Sweetie sighed, shutting the door behind her. It had been a long day of failing to earn her cutie mark, and she was more than ready for sleep. She found the guest bed to be much softer than she had expected, but then she remembered that her sister never did settle for second best, especially when it came to helping those around her. She should have known that the guest bedroom would be even nicer than the one back at her parents' house.

Sweetie settled into the feather bed. The silky sheet was pulled up to her chest, and she closed her eyes. Maybe tomorrow she could find a way to help out her sister.

Then the rumpling began. It was quiet at first, and it took a little while for Sweetie to hear it at all. She didn't think anything of it when she first heard the sound, figuring that Rarity must have been working on some late-night project. But then why did it sound like the rumpling was right outside the bedroom door?

Sweetie got up slowly, drowsily, and walked across the wooden floor to the door. "Rarity?" she asked in a whisper, not wanting to disturb her sister if she wasn't the cause. She hadn't thought much about what the cause might be if it wasn't the other unicorn, though.

She had to struggle a little to open the door, as the handle was located too high up for her to simply reach out and touch. It was times like those that she would wish she could get her magic to work. She had to rear up on her hind legs and then hop backwards to pull the door open. A soft light spilled into the room from the corridor beyond, and Sweetie was greeted by an odd sight.

There, sitting on the floor of the hallway, was a bolt of fuchsia fabric. It was almost totally unremarkable, really. The only thing that might distinguish it from other bolts of similar fabric was that it had a slew of stains everywhere. There were little dark, discolored spots all over it, as though it had been submerged in some liquid at some point in its past.

Sweetie Belle cocked an eyebrow at the sight. "Huh?" was all she could say in response. She stood there, just staring at the fabric for a few seconds in confusion and trying to make sense of what she saw. Perhaps Rarity's so-called "inspiration room" had begun to overflow out into the hallway. Sweetie felt that Rarity could be so neurotic at times that it wouldn't surprise her if this became an "inspiration corridor" or some such.

Sweetie was about to pick up the fabric and carry it off in search of someplace to stow it, but the day's events came back to her at that moment. She had learned her lesson about not touching Rarity's things several times over, especially if it looked like it would help in any way. And so Sweetie just shrugged, shut the door, and went back to bed. She curled up under the sheet, only her head and forelegs uncovered, and tried to think of new ways for the Cutie Mark Crusaders to find their special talents.

Outside the guest bedroom, the bolt of fabric slowly began to unroll. Not a hoof touched it, nor was it brushed by any unicorn magic, and yet it rolled out and quietly slid under the bedroom door. The cardboard tube that it had been wrapped around rolled away from the door with barely a sound as the last of the fabric slipped through the crack. The fabric crept almost silently across the wooden floor and over the decorative rug, slithering toward the bed.

Sweetie's eyes slid open slowly. The rumpling sound was back. It had seemed closer than before, and she sat up to look around the room. If there was anything there, though, it was too dark to see it. Sweetie leaned over and flicked the switch on the small lamp that rested on the nightstand, but she found the room empty aside from the furniture that had already been there and the luggage she'd brought with her.

Since the rumpling had stopped again, Sweetie shrugged and turned off the light. She settled back against the pillow and shut her eyes, but she was starting to get a little nervous, now. She shifted a little as the rumpling sound returned yet again. It sounded close. Very close.

Then she felt something tickle her hoof. She batted at whatever it was, figuring it was a loose feather from the mattress. Instead of going away, she felt the mystery object wrap around her hoof and start sliding up her foreleg.

Sweetie's gasp was cut short as the fuchsia fabric leapt up from the sheet and covered her face, pressing itself against her muzzle and cutting off her air supply. She tried to scream as the fabric coiled around her body, but her cries were lost in the mask of stained fabric. She flailed her little white limbs, trying to get them free, but it only served to further entangle her in the fabric's soft embrace.

She fought and succeeded at freeing her face only long enough to draw half a breath before it swallowed her up again. Her muffled cries for help never made it beyond the walls of the guest bedroom as she thrashed helplessly on the feather bed. The fabric tightened around her, enveloping her in layer-after-layer of fabric and binding her limbs. Sweetie's struggles slowly became weaker and weaker until they stopped entirely. Then Sweetie Belle was still, and the room was silent again.



"Sweetie Belle? Are you in there? It's time for breakfast, darling." Rarity pressed an ear to the door, but heard nothing. "Sweetie?"

The unicorn pushed the door open slowly, giving a token set of knocks with a hoof as she did. What she found inside set her on edge. Sweetie's bags were still scattered haphazardly around the room, but she couldn't see the filly anywhere. There was only an oblong ball of crumpled fabric on the bed. The sheets were a mess, and the pillows were lying on the floor.

She approached the bed slowly, her concern increasing with each step as she made her way through the quiet bedroom. "Sweetie Belle?" She brought a hoof down and nudged at the ball of fuchsia, but it didn't move. She brought another hoof up and peeled away the layers of fabric, stopping suddenly with a gasp as she reached the unmoving filly that was the ball's core. Sweetie was cold to the touch, her face frozen in an expression of abject terror.

Tears welled up in Rarity's eyes as she stared unbelievingly at her sister's lifeless body. Then she felt something tickle her hoof. Rarity screamed.