The Whole Thing
Ponies born into the Apple family never had their deaths recorded. None of them had graves in official cemeteries, and there were no death records to speak of. All that was known was that they did indeed die.
When questioned, all the Apples gave were vague answers, if one at all. Foals and teens often replied with an “I don’t know,” or a variant on it. The adults and elders, however, would respond with hostility or sheepishness.
With the mystery surrounding their deaths, a few theories sprung out of the woodwork. Some about mass gravesites hidden in hard to reach places, such as deep in the Everfree Forest. Others about them just vanishing one day, never to be seen again. Unfortunately, none of them were affirmed or denied by the Apple family, leaving the outside world in the dark.
***
Apple Bloom sat inside the Crusader Clubhouse, starring out the window as the sun began to set. The evening breeze slowly brushed past, catching small green leaves from the apple trees. She rested her head on her hoof and sighed, smiling while she thought of all the fun things she and her friends had done.
“Um, Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle called. Losing attention from the window, Apple Bloom turned to her friend. “I don’t know how to say this, but you’ve got a branch growing from your hoof…”
Sure enough, when Apple Bloom looked down at her hoof, she saw the tip of a branch poking out of her hoof. “Huh,” she said, examining it. “Well, it ain’t swamp fever, seein’ that I don’t got spots on me… Maybe I can just pull it out.” Opening her jaw, she bit down on the branch and began to pull, only to stop immediately to cry out in pain. “I-I think it’s stuck.”
Sweetie Belle observed as a small drop of blood squeezed out around the branch. “Must be a splinter,” she concluded. “Looks pretty bad too. Should we go back to your house?”
Nodding, Apple Bloom agreed, “Yeah, I… I’m sure Applejack’ll know what to do.” She looked down at Scootaloo, who was still fidgeting with a gameboard. “Uh, ya’ll wanna finish yer game first?”
Scootaloo’s focus snapped away from the gameboard and onto Apple Bloom. “Huh?” she asked. “Oh, the game? Nah. I was just trying to figure out how Sweetie Belle kept winning. Say, what’s that on your hoof?”
The other two Crusaders groaned and walked through the clubhouse door, Scootaloo running up to them after realizing they were leaving. Fortunately, it was a rather short distance between the clubhouse and the farmhouse. While they walked, Apple Bloom noticed her hoof was slightly sore, but other than that, she couldn’t feel the branch at all.
Arriving at the door, Sweetie Belle gave three consecutive knocks. The door swung open, Granny Smith there to greet them. “Howdy there! Yer just in time for din-” She froze, and her eyes shot open as she spotted the small blueish branch poking out of Apple Bloom’s hoof. “Oh my,” she mumbled.
Apple Bloom chuckled nervously and explained, “I tried pullin’ it out like every other splinter, but it hurt real bad, so I figured maybe Applejack would know what to do?”
“Uh, that don’t look like no splinter,” Granny said, rubbing her chin while looking at it. “Then again, my eyes ain’t what they used to be so… Why don’t ya’ll head into the livin’ room and show Big Mac? I’ll go get yer sister.”
Making their way inside, the three trotted into the living room, all three sitting down on a couch. Big Mac looked over and immediately noticed the branch. After he gasped, he uttered, “Oh my,” just as Granny Smith did.
“Is it really that bad lookin?” Apple Bloom questioned, hiding the branch with her other forehoof as she began to feel self-conscious. “I guess it is pretty big…”
“Not to mention that it drew blood when you tried to pull it out,” Scootaloo reminded. Turning her attention to Big Mac, she asked, “Is she going to be okay?”
Before he could even answer, Applejack came into the room. “Alright,” she sighed, walking up to Apple Bloom. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Moving aside the hoof her sister used to hide the branch, she carefully examined it from top to bottom. Her face turned into a grimace as she stared at it.
Apple Bloom watched as her sister stood and began walking out the room, ushering Big Mac and Granny Smith to follow. A few minutes later, her sister and brother returned, the ladder carrying the bags Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle brought.
“Hey, sugar cube? I’m sorry to have to do this, but I’mma have to end the sleepover here,” Applejack informed, disappointingly. “With that there branch in yer hoof… I… well…” She thought hard, staying silent for a moment before continuing. “Tell ya what? Let’s have our own sorta slumber party… There’s a… cabin, out near the zap apple orchard. It’s stocked full of campin supplies and a bunch of other stuff… How about we do that instead?”
Recoiling a bit, Apple Bloom replied, “That sounds nice and all, but…” She looked back at her two friends, saying, “We’ve been plannin this for a month straight, and- “
“It’s okay,” Sweetie Belle interjected. “We can always plan another. Besides, Applejack has a point. That splinter does look pretty bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have somepony watch over it until it comes out.”
After Scootaloo verbally agreed with Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom turned back to her sister. She stared down at the floor, and reluctantly replied, “Okay.” All the hard work she did to set up that night was tossed away by a single splinter. It was like a jab to the heart. “Stupid splinter,” she muttered under her breath.
Applejack whispered something into Big Mac’s ear and began walking away, Apple Bloom following. The two walked out of the farmhouse and into the acres, seeing the sun’s glow falling ever more below the horizon. The ground was cast in shadow, due to the trees and hills surrounding them. They walked and walked until they finally approached the dark, purplish fence that marked the zap apple orchard.
She waited as Applejack fiddled with the gate, until finally it opened. They had problems with that gate every time they went there. Most likely, due to its lack of use and little maintenance, the hinges were stiff and rusted, so it was hard to pull the gate open.
Entering, Apple Bloom observed the currently empty trees. Without zap apples, they looked eerie. The leaves were darker than most trees, and the bark was purplish, just like the fence that surrounded them, and, as Apple Bloom just noticed, like the splinter in her hoof. It didn’t help that the grass around each tree was darkened and duller.
There were almost too many zap apple trees to count. During a harvest, they never got through the entire orchard. The density was almost akin to the Everfree forest, making Apple Bloom feel claustrophobic. Finally, however, they found a clearing, revealing a small hill surrounded by zap apple trees, with a small dark pinewood cabin on top.
“Here we are,” Applejack informed, beginning to climb the hill. It was odd, Apple Bloom thought, that she never saw this cabin before. Never was she taken this deep into the zap apple orchard. And what was the purpose of this cabin anyway? It was out in the middle of nowhere, and was closer to the size of her clubhouse. She first wondered whether it was just a shed, but then remembered Applejack called it a cabin.
The two climbed to the top of the hill and entered the small cabin. Inside there was a bed in the left corner closest to the door, a minimalistic kitchen area, with little counter space in the right corner closest to the door. Another door, presumably leading to a very tiny bathroom, was in the far left corner, and a couch with a small table next to it shoved in the far right corner of the cabin. There were two windows, one on the right wall and one on the left, with light green, vintage curtains covering them.
Applejack flipped a light switch, and the room lit up, revealing there was a light green carpet to match the curtains. “So,” she asked, walking over to the small kitchen, “waddya want for dinner tonight?” She opened the fridge and examined the food in there. Checking the expiration date, Applejack informed, “Got some waffles we could cook up. Maybe have that with some syrup?”
“Uh, sure,” Apple Bloom responded, walking over to the small green couch. “That sounds nice.” Sitting down, she found herself a bit disappointed. Though the couch appeared to be relatively soft, it might as well have been made of just wood, as the cushion was more for show than anything.
As her sister began working on the pseudo-dinner, Apple Bloom decided to lie back on the hard couch, letting her hooves rest from the long walk she had made. She stared up at the ceiling blankly, waiting for time to pass. She imagined all the activities she and the Crusaders could have done if it weren’t for the splinter.
Then a thought occurred to her. What if this wasn’t a splinter at all? Granny Smith surely didn’t think so, and if Applejack did, it was hard to tell. She remembered hearing about an illness Fluttershy and Zecora had gotten called “Swamp Fever”. One of the symptoms was sprouting branches. Maybe she had that? But if that were the case, she’d have orange spots on her, which she didn’t.
All the confusion as to what this strange branch was wafted away from her mind as the smell of waffles filled her nose. Humming in satisfaction, she sat back up and observed her sister cooking. The waffles were nearly done, it seemed, and there was a giant bottle of syrup sitting on the small counter space next to a plate.
“Those smell delicious,” Apple Bloom remarked, licking her lips as Applejack turned off the stovetop. “Hey, where we gonna eat those, anyway?”
Sliding the waffles onto a plate, Applejack walked them over to her sister along with the syrup. Once her sister grabbed the plate and syrup, Applejack answered, “Wherever you want, sugar cube. Though, if you wouldn’t mind eating them someplace other than the couch, I’d really appreciate that. Since, you know, I’m sleepin’ on there.”
Apple Bloom looked down at the plate of waffles in confusion. Every waffle her sister had made was on the plate. “Aren’t you gonna have any?” she asked.
Applejack shook her head and replied, “Nah. I’m not really that hungry. Sides, I ate ‘bout half a pie for lunch. Ain’t no reason to stuff my face even more, right?”
“If you say so,” Apple Bloom replied, standing up. Walking over to the bed, she set down the waffles and sat down. The bed was way softer than the couch, but wasn’t as soft as her bed at home. A simple light green quilt and a matching pillow were all that was on the mattress. There weren’t even sheets on the bed.
She drizzled a conservative amount of syrup onto the waffle and set the bottle aside. Lifting the doughy waffle to her mouth, she took a small bite, taking in the flavor. They weren’t half bad, seeing how old they must’ve been.
For the rest of the night, the two stayed mostly silent, beyond a question or two. Applejack’s mind seemed to be in a different place, and after Apple Bloom finished her pseudo-dinner, she was far too focused on her hoof yet again.
Finally, Apple Bloom succumbed to sleep, curled up in the single bed the cabin contained, unaware that Applejack wouldn’t be getting any sleep. No, she was far too distraught. She tried for an hour or two, but failed to do so.
Which explained why Applejack looked so tired once Apple Bloom did wake up. Sun beamed through the curtains, hitting her face. Slowly, she popped open an eye to see the unfamiliar ceiling of the isolated cabin once again. Turning over, she saw her sister cooking breakfast with a stone-chiseled expression.
Yawning, Apple Bloom sat up and looked over, smelling scrambled eggs fried atop the stove. “Hey’a sis,” she weakly greeted. She was never a morning pony, despite her having to wake up early for many occasions. “What’s cookin?”
Applejack shook her head and cleared her exhaustion from view, smiling instead. “Scrambled eggs on the stovetop, and bacon in the oven,” she replied. “Oh, and I took a quick trip back to the farm to get some milk and that cereal you like, so there’s that too.”
Wiping off a stray lock of hair that covered her face, Apple Bloom scratched herself. “What in tarn-” Before she could finish, she found a branch growing from her hoof. Only, it wasn’t from the hoof she got a splinter in, nor was it even growing from the same side as the other. It was about the same size- no, smaller than the first. She noticed that the first branch had grown in her sleep. It was about three to four inches longer. “Uh, Applejack?” she called as she began to panic. “The branch… grew… and there’s another one on my other hoof…”
Nodding, Applejack gave an attempt at being reassuring, replying, “Don’t worry none. You’ll be fine,” but it felt quite the opposite to Apple Bloom. Seeing branches growing from her hooves made her sense her sister downplaying the situation, giving her a sickening feeling about what was to come.
***
Hours ticked by as they just sat there in the cabin. Time was at a sluggish pace. The branches kept growing, and another popped out of her head. Her hooves began aching, the source of which no doubt were the branches.
She found herself starring out the window as pressure continued to boil inside her, and the sun began to set once again. Powerful, howling winds harshly shook the zap apple trees, brutally yanking deep, dark green leaves without care. She rested her head on her aching hoof, and sighed, scowling at the wasted day.
“Applejack?” she asked, continuing to focus on the ominous orchard. “Do you… Can we head back home soon? I mean, this has been nice and all, but I kinda-” The branch growing from her right forehoof suddenly poked into her temple, causing her to move away. The branch began growing, splitting off in two. It moved as if it were trying to escape her, blood trailing on it. It scraped at the inside of her hoof, causing her to cry out in pain. Whatever was happening to her, it was happening now.
And while Apple Bloom cried, Applejack shot up from her seat and ran over, seeing a crimson waterfall trickling down her sister’s hoof. The other branch began to grow in the same fashion, causing a pool to form. She looked down at her reflection in horror, her mind racing.
Finally, instinct kicked in as Applejack picked her up. Apple Bloom’s body quaked as her sister stormed out of the small cabin with her. She clung to Applejack’s body; her mind scared beyond ever before.
Tears that she had began to dry up as Applejack ran down the orchard trails, trying to make it somewhere. More branches began to sprout, some with leaves and some without, each a mix of crimson and plum.
Applejack froze and stared down at a small empty spot in the orchard. She promptly slid Apple Bloom off her back and looked back. Emotions took hold of her as she began to let herself cry too.
A flurry of pain and fear coated Apple Bloom’s mind as she looked up at her sister. She tried to lift a hoof and get Applejack’s attention, yet she found it stuck in the ground. Each time she tugged at it, she felt a shock of pain zap her.
“I,” Applejack whimpered, refusing to look at her. “I… I’ll visit you. Tomorrow… and the next day… and the next day…” She watched as her sister began walking away, and tried to cry out, only to find her neck tighten as it slowly began growing taller. Her spine bent and curved into itself, also growing in the process. Her ears began to fill with solid wood. A bloody smear coated her eyesight as her eyelids became wooden as well. Voids of nothingness followed the trail of red down her eyeball. Gone was her sense of hearing and sight.
She felt her stomach begin to churn as every organ was stuffed with wood. Her throat began to seal shut, causing a raging inferno in her lungs. She felt her body trying to convulse, but it failed as her muscle and flesh turned to wood. The filling in her throat climbed into her nose, clogging it. Gone was her ability to smell and breathe.
Her cheeks and skin now mostly turned to wood, it was only a matter of time before her mouth also hardened, sealing itself shut. The inside of her mouth began closing, her tongue pinning to the roof of her mouth. Gone was everything but touch.
The nightmare seemed never to end, as more pathways began to change and warp. Unable to scream, unable to shed tears, unable to move around, and unable to sense much beyond the ground bellow her. Claustrophobia barely described it. There had to be a word far more fitting, though she didn’t know of any. All she could hope was that her body would stop changing.
After ages of constant mutation, her body ceased activity, leaving her to float in an empty void of her fears and leaving her alone, for all eternity.