After numerous ponies have been going missing, Apple Bloom and her friends want to get to the bottom of things. Everything is normal in the daytime—but come night, strange events become more and more frequent, and Apple Bloom can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong. Things take a turn for the worse, however, when she discovers her family’s dirty little secret.
Conceptualized after a prompt generator was used when a random bout of inspiration struck at 2 AM, and written entirely within the following 36 hours. Thanks to my IRLs for helping me make sure the story made a bit of sense. And a special thank you to the two demons on my shoulders telling me to upload this early (you know who you are <3) Cover art: done by me :>
A yellow filly with a red mane and a bright pink bow stood in the middle of a cornfield. She stared on at a scarecrow, eyes fixated on the intricate details of the sewing. She wasn’t alone. In fact, she was accompanied by her older sister who was off harvesting the crop.
“Apple Bloom, ya gotta help me,” her older sister called through the corn.
The young filly dragged her eyes off the scarecrow. “Huh? Oh yeah, I will, Applejack. Sorry.” She picked up a large woven basket in her mouth and dragged it over to the row parallel to her sister.
Applejack broke off husks of corn and threw them in her own basket. “Why’d ya get so distracted?”
Apple Bloom got to work on her portion of the crop. “I guess I just never noticed how lifelike that scarecrow is,” she admitted. “Why do we change it so often?”
Applejack tore a stray leaf off of the corn and turned to look at her sister. “They just don’t last very long,” she explained as she eyed the row of corn behind Apple Bloom. “Hey, ya gotta do a better job. You’re gonna make it hard for the corn to grow back.”
Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder, realizing her mistake. “Oh, yeah.” She shook her head. “Sorry.” She continued to harvest the corn, making sure now to do it properly, but yet there was a strange feeling crawling through her mind. She couldn’t quite place what it was.
She flicked her eyes back to the scarecrow. It was different than most scarecrows she’d seen before. While the ones at other farms she’s been to were made of burlap sacks and stuffed lazily with hay, these were made of a finer material, dyed to look more pony-like. Whenever they were changed, the colour of the “fur” did, too. She asked Applejack once why they couldn’t use regular scarecrows like the other ones she’d seen before, but Applejack insisted that “Apples do it our own way. It’s what makes us successful.”
The only thing Apple Bloom didn’t really like about them is that they were scary. They always smelled kind of weird, like vinegar, and the scarecrow was often adorned with different clothes and posed in more life-like positions. If Apple Bloom had been wandering in the field in the dark, she would have thought it was a real pony.
It wasn’t night time just yet though, and Apple Bloom still needed to finish her last chore. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went back to picking corn. At least it wasn't catching apples in a bucket on her head. That kind of hurt.
By the time the section of the crop was successfully harvested, Apple Bloom was sweating. She dragged her basket behind her as she followed her sister out of the field, once again passing the scarecrow. She took a quick peek at it again. This one was a cream colour with a yellow mane that almost looked like hay, but wasn’t the right texture. It wore a cloak on its back and was positioned in a reared up pose. Apple Bloom definitely understood why the birds were afraid of it. It was creepy.
Her sister's humming filled the air as she did not even glance at the scarecrow. They passed it entirely and walked for a little while longer until they finally reached the edge of the cornfield. Pushing their way past the slightly damp mud at the foot of the barn, they made their way in and each released their basket of corn. Apple Bloom looked at her basket, then at Applejack’s. As always, it seemed like her older sister always did more than the filly could. Applejack was older, though, so Apple Bloom never spent much time feeling sorry for herself.
The orange mare walked up next to the younger filly and rubbed her hoof against the big bow she wore. “Great work, Apple Bloom. I reckon we finished off the corn harvest a day early, even with Big Mac off doin’ a delivery.”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Yeah!” She gently nudged Applejack’s hoof away. “I told the Crusaders we could hang out in the clubhouse after I was done. Can I go?”
There was a moment of hesitation as Applejack frowned. She briefly shut her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just get home before dark, you know the rules. Don’t want anythin’ happenin’ to ya.”
Apple Bloom shuddered. As long as she’d been alive, and even longer than that, ponies occasionally went missing in Ponyville, and it usually happened right around the new moon when the night time was darkest. She didn’t need to be told twice. “Will do, Applejack. I promise!”
With that being said, Apple Bloom wasted no time running out of the barn and leaving Applejack to store the corn. She wasn’t tall enough to do it herself, anyway. Trekking down the familiar path that led to the treehouse that she’d grown to know as a second home, Apple Bloom hummed the same tune Applejack was humming earlier. She didn’t know what song it was, or where it came from, but it had been particularly catchy and got embedded in her head.
As she approached the small, refurbished treehouse, she could hear Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo talking inside. They seemed excited about something, but their words were too muffled to make out. With growing curiosity, Apple Bloom set off into a short trot up to the treehouse and in through the door. “Hiya, girls!” she greeted as she shut the door behind them, ensuring that anypony who happened to walk by knew they were having a closed meeting.
Sweetie Belle turned to look at Apple Bloom. “Oh, good! You’re here!” She and Scootaloo looked at each other and grinned. “We had a really good idea!”
Apple Bloom cocked her head. “Oh really? What is it?” She had to admit, this reminded her of back before they even had their cutie marks, back when they would think of numerous things to do to try to get them. It seemed extremely silly that they never thought of helping other foals get their cutie marks before.
Scootaloo clapped her hooves together once. “Okay, so you know how there have been all those ponies that have been going missing?”
Apple Bloom wasn’t sure where the conversation was heading. “Yeah…”
“Well, we thought we could—”
“Look for them!” Sweetie Belle interrupted. Scootaloo shot her a hard look. “Sorry, Scoot. I got excited,” she mumbled sheepishly.
The short-maned filly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well yeah. We thought we could look for them. I mean, it’s been happening for a really long time. Whoever—or whatever—is doing it is bound to mess up, right? If these disappearances follow the same pattern that everypony’s always talking about, then one should happen tonight.” Scootaloo pulled out a paper with a crudely drawn map of Ponyville on it from behind her and laid it out on the ground. “There haven’t been any foals taken yet, so I think we should be okay. If we split up here, here, and here,” she gestured to different areas on the map, “then we should be able to cover the most ground and see if anything weird is happening.”
Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin. “I dunno about this, guys…” She considered the map and the areas that Scootaloo had pointed out. “Just because we’re still foals doesn’t mean we’re safe. What if we get taken?”
Sweetie Belle spoke up. “That’s why we have these!” She pushed forward a box to the centre of the map. “Whistles. If anything happens, we blow on them,” she lifted one to her mouth and blew. “That way, the others can come as quick as possible before anything bad happens!”
Apple Bloom rubbed her ear and waited for the slight ringing to disappear. “I guess.”
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hoof-bumped. They looked eagerly at Apple Bloom, who was still unsure about the situation. She raised her hoof and completed the three-way hoof bump. They each cheered in excitement, although Apple Bloom’s was feigned.
The night was young, and the increased amount of lanterns outside only meant one thing—it was a new moon. The streets of Ponyville were empty, apart from a couple of ponies walking around cautiously, probably out to buy something, or in the midst of returning home from a late-night visit. Apple Bloom frowned as she positioned herself next to Sugarcube Corner, idly leaning on the wall. She hoped that if something bad were to happen, she could scream and easily get Pinkie Pie or the Cakes’ attention. She also didn’t want to be caught unnecessarily, so she stayed quiet and in the shadows.
Nothing was really happening, and Apple Bloom found herself kicking pebbles on the floor and counting how many ponies walked by. She didn’t want anything bad to happen, but she wanted something to happen. The only exciting thing to have happened up to that point was that she noticed Mayor Mare walk into the town hall, then out of it rather quickly, carrying a bag with several small boxes in it. Apple Bloom held back a snicker, a guilty memory from when she was even younger popping back into her head.
Then, Apple Bloom heard the last thing she ever wanted to hear. The whistle. Her body perked up and she looked toward the area where the whistle had come from. It was over near Carousel Boutique which meant…
“Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom set off into a trot toward the shop. She noticed Scootaloo arriving from her position near Twilight’s castle. They both made eye contact, then went directly to the source of the sound where Sweetie Belle stood in shock. She stared into the forest in the distant horizon line. “What happened?” Apple Bloom asked as she met up with the other two fillies.
“I saw somepony…” Sweetie Belle fumbled with her words and shook her head. “I don’t… Maybe it was Lyra? Somepony took her and dragged her into the Everfree Forest!”
Scootaloo cocked her head. “Lyra? Why would somepony take Lyra?”
“Why would somepony take anypony?” Apple Bloom shot back. “We have to tell someone!”
Scootaloo took a step closer to Sweetie Belle. “Did you see who it was?”
The white filly shook her head. “No, it was too dark. And I think they were wearing some kind of cloak? I’m not sure.” Sweetie Belle shook her head and closed her eyes. “All I saw was somepony call her over and then hit her in the head with…. Something.” She opened her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows. “They tied her up and dragged her away.”
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked at each other with a frown. “I think we should go back home, girls. Or at least somewhere we can stay in,” Scootaloo suggested.
The yellow filly turned to look at Sweetie Belle. “Do ya think Rarity’ll let us stay with her?”
“I guess, but can’t we go to Twilight or Pinkie? Rarity’s going to get upset if she finds out I was out at night.”
Scootaloo scoffed. “Well, if you want to walk across town by yourself, then be our guest, but Apple Bloom and I are going to stay here with Rarity, right AB?”
Apple Bloom shuffled awkwardly. “Uh, yeah I guess.”
Sweetie Belle frowned and looked at the floor, shifting her weight between her hooves as she pondered. Eventually, she shot her gaze back up. “Okay, alright fine. But I know Rarity’s going to tell Applejack and Rainbow Dash we were out!”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to tell them the truth,” Apple Bloom said. If anything that Applejack taught her shone through at that moment, it was the importance of honesty.
The three fillies steeled themselves for the inevitable reckoning that Rarity would give them. The scolding, the punishing, the threatening to tell their sisters (or in Scoot’s case, the mare that was as close to a sister as she had), the dramatic whining, the warnings, everything that they knew was coming. Sweetie Belle knocked on the door and smiled innocently as a taller, light grey mare opened the door and looked down at them in surprise, then in anger.
Everything Apple Bloom knew would happen, happened.
“How could you possibly think this was acceptable, Sweetie Belle?” Rarity spoke sternly, pacing in front of the couch where the three fillies now sat. She turned to look directly at her sister as she spoke her name, causing the yearling to squirm.
“I’m sorry, Rarity... But—”
“No buts, Sweetie! You shouldn’t have been outside at all! You know the rules!”
“Yeah, but Rarity—”
“No, Sweetie Belle. I think I’m going to step in and ground you, I’m within my rights and surely our parents wouldn’t disagree.” Rarity began pacing again. “As for you two, surely you know I’m going to tell Applejack and Rainbow Dash.”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both looked down.
Sweetie Belle sighed. “Rarity, you have to let me explain—”
“And Sweetie Belle! What has gotten into you?” Rarity once again stopped her pacing to look at her sister. “You never disobey when it’s something important like this!”
“I know, Rarity.” Sweetie Belle sounded exasperated, and Apple Bloom could understand why. “But—”
“I am just trying to be the big sister you deserve!” Rarity’s voice grew shrill. “There are awful things happening. Do you blame me for wanting you girls to be safe?”
“No, but—”
“If you go out at night, especially on nights like tonight, who knows what could happen.” Rarity looked in turn at each of the fillies. “We wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, would we?”
It seemed Sweetie Belle had had enough. She stood up and glared at Rarity. “Let me speak!” she yelled at her sister, who looked at her in shock, then in surprised anger. “We were only out there because we wanted to catch whoever’s doing all this!”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both looked at their friend with widened eyes. Apple Bloom lifted a hoof and placed it on Sweetie Belle’s shoulder. Before she could tell her to calm down, Sweetie Belle shrugged her off and continued to look right at Rarity, who returned the gaze, although it softened.
“Sweetie, I appreciate that you and your friends had your hearts in the right place,” she started, her voice calm, “but your intentions do not make up for the fact that you put yourselves in danger.”
Sweetie Belle sighed. “I understand, Rarity. And maybe we were being dumb. But we saw something.”
This seemed to get Rarity’s attention. Her expression changed into one of concern, an eyebrow raised and she looked at each of the fillies. “What did you see?”
This time, Scootaloo spoke up. “Sweetie Belle said she saw somepony kidnap Lyra Heartstrings.”
“Err, I think it was Lyra. It was sort of hard to tell, to be honest,” Sweetie Belle admitted. “But I have no clue who the other pony was. They were wearing a cloak and had something with them they used to knock her out. Then, they used a rope to tie her up and dragged her into the forest.”
Rarity frowned and glanced out the window. “But why was Lyra all the way out near the forest?”
Sweetie Belle shrugged. “She wasn’t at first. I think she was heading home, but that pony called her or waved her over or something. I couldn’t hear anything because it happened too far away.”
Apple Bloom raised a hoof to her mouth. “Why would she go to somepony who’s calling her in the middle of the night, though?”
“Perhaps it was somepony she knows,” Rarity murmured under her breath. She stood up. “You girls stay here. I’m going to go see Twilight about this. If this just occurred, maybe we can figure out what happened, or at the very least check everypony’s alibis. This had to have been someone Lyra trusts. We can save her yet.”
The Crusaders looked at each other. “Shouldn’t we go with ya?” Apple Bloom asked, unsure of why Rarity wouldn’t offer to take them.
Rarity simply shook her head. “No, I think it’s best if you girls stay here,” she repeated. “This is serious, and besides, you three should sleep. It is very much past your bedtime, Sweetie Belle, and I’m sure it is for you two as well,” she pointed out while glancing at the trio of friends.
Without leaving time for the fillies to argue again, Rarity magicked open the door and made her way out, taking a saddlebag with her and adorning a dark fabric she pulled over her body, masking her shape and deep purple mane. “Make sure you go right to bed, and no snooping! I’m working on a new line, and I do not enjoy it when little ponies poke around my ideas.” She shut the door behind her, leaving the three fillies sitting in the dark, looking at each other uneasily.
It was quite strange to wake up after being bludgeoned in the head. Lyra opened her eyes and looked around as the room hazily faded into existence. Her head throbbed. She could feel every heartbeat as if it was her own brain pumping blood through her body. Where was she? She looked around and saw nothing but dark shapes, silhouettes that her eyes couldn’t quite make out yet. The next sense that returned to her was her hearing. She heard muffled exclaims, breathing and rustling. There was no wind, no birds, no speaking.
This alarmed her. Her eyes widened as she looked around again, but more desperately this time. The shapes were becoming sharper as her eyes adjusted. Some of them moved around, some of them were eerily still. Lyra tried to scream, but the fabric gagging her stopped her. She closed her mouth around it, convinced she could somehow tear through it, but her jaw wasn’t strong enough. Her cry came out muffled, and her blood froze once she realized what she had been hearing before. Her eyes were finally used to the darkness and she looked around her. She became aware that she was tied to the wall, her front hooves pulled behind her. There was what seemed like a blindfold around her neck, and she wasn’t sure if she was thankful that she could see, or unlucky that she was able to see everything around her.
All of the ponies that had disappeared. Or at least, three of them. They were tied in the dark room, almost unrecognizable due to the lack of light to see in anything other than shades of gray. The difference between herself and them is that they were frail and visibly starved. They wore blindfolds—ones that served their purpose—and the same white fabric in their mouth that Lyra had. Some of them had the stains of long-dried tears on their cheeks, and some of them silently cried fresh tears. There was one who occasionally pulled on the restraints, muffled sounds of grunting escaping them.
Then, there were the ones who weren’t moving much. Staggered breaths, twitching, or a complete lack of movement. The sick, metallic scent of dried blood found its way to Lyra’s nose and she gagged, unable to do anything but. She writhed around in an attempt to break free, but the rope that held her down was expertly tied and moving only caused her pain and what would soon turn into rope burn if she kept struggling. She strategically gave up trying to escape and instead looked around as much as she could. She tried to light up the room with her horn but was unable to perform any kind of magic. Whenever she tried, searing pain shot into her skull, causing her to wince.
Lyra looked around once more, hoping to see something that might help her. A way out, somepony who could help, something to identify where she was, anything. But there were only the shapes of silent, unmoving ponies, and the sounds of the ponies she called friends surrounding her giving up. With a defeated sigh, Lyra felt her body relax into the dirt floor she was forced to sit on. Tears swelled in her eyes. What would Bon Bon do?
Bon Bon wouldn’t have been taken. She would have never walked up to the pony that called her over. It was a cheap trick, and Bon Bon wouldn’t have fallen for it. Why did she have to go up to…
Lyra couldn’t seem to recall who it was that called her over. She tried to remember the moment, but all she was able to recollect was that somepony needed help with something, but she couldn’t remember exactly who it was. Her head pounded whenever she tried to remember. It was somepony she knew. She had to remember.
Would she ever get out of there alive? Lyra exhaled through her nose in the closest thing she could get to a sigh. And to think all she wanted was to surprise Bon Bon. Now, she wasn’t even sure if she would ever see her again. The tears that threatened to fall finally did, but she cried quietly. If her captor was listening, she didn’t want her to have any kind of pleasure in her grief.
The door at the other end of the room opened, and the dim lantern light made Lyra blink. “Well, well,” her captor spoke. “You’re not supposed to be able to see.”
Lyra looked up at the pony that stood over her with a glint in her eye. She blinked groggily, her head suddenly spinning. That voice. It was undeniable. Lyra’s eyes widened in shock at the silhouette she faced. The pony reached behind her to grab a wooden club. There was no mistaking her. Lyra let out a whimper in realization. It couldn’t be. Lyra shut her eyes. She couldn’t believe that it was—
WHACK.
Lyra fell forward, her body limp from the impact to her head. The cloaked pony sighed and readjusted her hat which had strayed forward on her head from the force of the swing. “She’ll be fine,” she told herself. “For now.”
She reached down and removed the fabric from Lyra’s neck and instead tied it tightly around her eyes the way it should have been the whole time. Somepony sniffled in the candle-lit darkness, causing the mare to sigh as she stood back up. There'll be another one soon enough.
But for now, the slight smell of death was the thing that needed fixing. She put the wooden club back in its makeshift sheath and followed the odour to a body. As she suspected, a yellow mare with a blue mane laid on the ground, completely unmoving. Routinely, she tied a rope around the pony’s limbs, undid her shackles and dragged her out the door. “This one oughta do the job.” She shut the entrance to the room behind her and blew out the candle, leaving the only source of light in the damp tunnel as the light from the candle outside. The mare dragged the body out of the underground effortlessly and looked around. Silence, as usual. She shut the trapdoors and kept walking.
Apple Bloom was confined to the farm, apart from going to school. Rarity had been unsurprisingly true to her word and told Applejack about what the Crusaders had done, and in return, Applejack grounded Apple Bloom for two weeks. She had explored nearly every inch of Sweet Apple Acres in that time. She thought she’d been everywhere before, but the two weeks she’d spent at home proved she really hadn’t.
When she wasn’t doing farmwork, homework, or exploring the grounds, she was thinking about what Sweetie Belle saw. Every time she tried to ask Applejack about it, though, her sister brushed off the subject, telling her that “she shouldn’t worry about it,” or that “it was something the adults worry about.” That made Apple Bloom upset. She kicked a pebble down the trodden dirt path next to the cornfield. There was a new scarecrow and it was just as unsettling as the last one. This one was a faded yellow and posed like it was getting ready to run. Apple Bloom looked away from the field where she knew the scarecrow stood. She couldn’t see it from where she was, but just knowing it was there made her uncomfortable.
Apple Bloom knew it was stupid of her to be afraid of a scarecrow, of all things. Every farm had one, and she knew that. But something about the ones her family had was the tiniest bit… unsettling. She always asked Applejack if she could help make it since maybe seeing it be made would help her get over her fear. Her sister always said no, though. It was apparently too difficult to make, but she reassured the filly that in due time, she would be taught how to do it. Frustrated at the memory, Apple Bloom kicked the pebble again and followed it as it hit the side of the doors to the cellar next to the barn.
She looked at it with uncertainty. She was never allowed to go in the cellar. Applejack said that’s where the hard cider was stored and since she was too young to drink it, she was too young to go in. Now that she thought about it, she was too young to do a lot of things according to her sister. Besides, even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. There was a lock keeping her out, and she didn’t have a key. Apple Bloom frowned. If only her cutie mark was for lock-picking…
She sighed and walked away, but took a glance over her shoulder at it. It was strange. It’s not like she never helped make the cider. And she was responsible enough. She knew not to drink it. It smelled really gross anyway, she assumed it wouldn’t taste good. The area around the entrance to the cellar always seemed to smell weird too, which was usually repellent enough for the filly, but now she was increasingly curious. Being stuck at home was only so amusing, after all. She wondered if there was a way to break the lock instead. It was nearly sunset, but she figured that she was fine on the farm. Applejack went out onto the farm at night sometimes, and Granny was impervious to the town’s sense of dread when it came to nighttime. They were just fine, so Apple Bloom figured she was fine too.
Applejack was somewhere in the orchard, Granny was in the house, and Big Mac was off on a long delivery trip. This meant Apple Bloom was basically by herself, which was perfect. She walked into the barn, taking a quick look around the organized chaos. She saw a toolbox and walked over to it, rummaging carefully in it until she found what she needed. Carefully, Apple Bloom picked up a hammer in her mouth and made her way back out of the barn toward the cellar doors.
She set the hammer down and sat down in front of the lock. She picked up the hammer between both hooves, making sure she had a good grip before swinging it down onto the lock with a grunt of effort. She repeated the action, adding more force each time until the lock clicked and fell open. Satisfied, and a bit tired, Apple Bloom set the hammer down, took the lock off of the holder and threw it aside. It didn’t seem to be damaged, so she could easily put it back once she was done looking around.
Apple Bloom pulled one of the doors open. It was a bit heavier than she was expecting, but she was able to get it open. There was a staircase leading down, and suddenly Apple Bloom didn’t feel so sure about her plan. The smell was faint, but it made her stomach churn. It smelled… bad. She wasn’t sure like what it smelled, but it wasn’t pleasant. Regardless, Apple Bloom took a deep breath in through her mouth and descended the staircase. It instantly felt damp and cold. The smell intensified the farther down she went.
Eventually, the staircase ended, but a tunnel took its place. There were no lights, so Apple Bloom kept walking down the declining, darkening tunnel. She reached a point where the smell was so strong, she gagged. Apple Bloom paused, forcing the bile that threatened to rise up her throat back down. She took another step forward and bumped into a wall.
“What the…” Apple Bloom squinted her eyes, trying to make out where she was. In shades of gray, she could barely see a lantern to her right, but she hadn’t brought any matches to light it. She looked to her left and saw some kind of door handle. She put a hoof on it and it clanked. “A metal door?”
She tugged on the handle, and then pushed on the door, but she was too weak to open it. Feeling a mixture of frustration, and relief since she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what was on the other side of the door, Apple Bloom turned back to leave but squeaked in surprise when she saw the silhouette of another pony. Her sister stood in front of her. Apple Bloom couldn’t quite read her expression, but she definitely wasn’t happy to see her.
“I told ya not to come down here,” Applejack said coldly, her voice low.
Apple Bloom shuddered. She’d never heard her sister take that tone of voice, at least not on her. “What is this place?” she asked nervously. Everything felt wrong. Like some kind of nightmare. Would Luna be showing up to save her sometime soon?
But Luna never came.
Applejack stayed still for a moment in silence. “You asked about the scarecrows before,” she finally spoke, unmoving from her place, meaning that Apple Bloom was trapped against the wall, the odour becoming more and more apparent. She felt that the only thing to do was nod, which Applejack took as a sign to continue. “Why they were… different. Why we do it different.”
Apple Bloom nodded again, unsure of what to do. She wished she’d never come down to the cellar. She should have just listened to Applejack.
Applejack took a minuscule step closer. “It’s a family secret, Apple Bloom. I was tryin’ to keep ya from it ‘cause yer too young. But I suppose ya found it on your own.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “I wasn’t too much older than you when I found out. So I guess I’ll tell ya.” She turned around quickly and began walking, motioning for Apple Bloom to follow her out. Apple Bloom stalked behind her sister, taking one last glance at the door behind her that disappeared into the darkness.
They walked back toward the orange glow of the sunset. It felt longer on the way back than it did when Apple Bloom first walked in. Apple Bloom felt uneasy. Her legs trembled with every step up the long, cold staircase. She felt every single muscle in her body begging her to run away, but something kept her there as Applejack closed the cellar doors, not bothering to put the lock back on.
Her sister took a calculated step back before turning around and walking toward the apple orchard. Apple Bloom followed, her body stiff and afraid, but it almost felt like she was no longer in control of herself. They walked silently, Applejack focused dead ahead, not once sparing a glance at the filly next to her. Apple Bloom’s throat was dry. She walked in step with her older sister who took slow, deliberate strides.
They walked through the orchard, past countless rows of trees. Apple Bloom had never even been this deep into the orchard. She’d always been told it was dangerous, but then, she’d been told a lot of things. “Aren’t we supposed to stay inside at night?” Apple Bloom inquired, barely audible over the sound of the wind picking up. Applejack did not respond.
Under the glow of the stars, they made it to a small clearing in the orchard where the surrounding trees were blackened with a disease that Apple Bloom had never seen. She looked at the scene in front of her. In the centre of the clearing was some kind of firepit surrounded by rocks and a layer of red paint in the shape of a circle with what appeared to be theurgical writing scrawled in the same vibrant red paint. It looked old and decrepit, but also somehow brand new. To the left of that was some kind of drying rack made up of twigs from the same blackened trees surrounding the area. On the floor around the racks and the firepit were dark red stains in the dead grass. Somehow, Apple Bloom knew that was not paint.
On one of the racks, Apple Bloom noticed a strip of the same yellow material that the new scarecrow was made of, except this one looked less dried out. It almost looked like…
Apple Bloom’s stomach dropped. Something was wrong, and she still couldn’t run away like she wanted. She looked over at her sister, her hooves glued to the ground. Why couldn’t she leave? “Applejack, what is this?” Her voice wavered as she asked the question, threatening tears brimming her eyes. She felt like she shouldn’t show her fear, but she couldn’t help it.
Applejack stared directly at the firepit. “Those scarecrows.” Her voice was cold and detached. “They’re different. You’re right.” She turned her head to look at the crudely built drying rack. “They don’t last long because eventually they… deteriorate.”
Apple Bloom frowned. They deteriorate? Her heartbeat picked up its pace. An image of the scarecrows flashed in her mind. They’re so lifelike. Apple Bloom’s heart skipped a beat before returning, even quicker than before. She took an unsteady step back. It was all her body allowed her. No. This can’t be happening.
If Applejack noticed Apple Bloom’s fear, she paid it no mind as she took a step closer to the pit. “It’s the family way. We’ve been doing this for generations.” Applejack laughed quietly. A horrible, terrifying laugh. She spun around to face Apple Bloom, her face contorted in a sick smile. “What Granny told y’all about the founding of Ponyville? It’s only half-truths.” She stomped a hoof down and gestured around them with the other. “We stole this land. We killed for this land. And whatever vengeful spirits stayed behind want… recompensation.” She turned her head to the flayed skin on the drying rack. “We offer them the sinners of this town. Those who have done us wrong, those who have ever lied to us, or stolen from us, or hurt us in any way.”
“And nobody is perfect, Apple Bloom.” Applejack’s face fell into a passive frown. “Everypony is fair game. We’re all sinners.” She once again took a quick glance at the firepit. “It makes it happy. We need to keep it happy, or it’ll take the whole farm down.”
At this point, Apple Bloom was trembling. Her entire body shook, her throat clenched tightly. She could barely breathe, barely comprehend what it was that Applejack was saying. That didn’t seem like her sister at all. It was like a switch had been flipped. Like something was wrong with her. Apple Bloom tried to run away, but her body wouldn’t obey her. She felt like something was holding her down.
Applejack closed the distance between them. “Don’t worry, Apple Bloom. I reacted the same way.” She stroked the filly’s mane gently, which made her even warier. “But I’ll make you understand, don’t you fret.”
The larger orange mare dragged Apple Bloom with her, back in the direction from which they came.
Applejack released Apple Bloom in front of the large, heavy metal door in the cold, smelly, damp hallway of the cellar. The Stetson-wearing mare struck a match, briefly lighting up the area. Apple Bloom looked around. The tunnel seemed somehow even more creepy now that they were the only ones lit up. Applejack used the match to light the lantern, then threw the little wooden stick on the floor and stomped it out. Wordlessly, Applejack turned to the metal door and raised a hoof. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Apple Bloom from the side of her eye, and then pushed the door open with seemingly no effort. The door metallically shrieked as it opened, and Apple Bloom looked inside reluctantly, no longer as disturbed from the even stronger stench.
For a moment, she was confused. The light from the lantern didn’t reach far enough into the dark room for Apple Bloom to see what was in it, but she strained her eyes and once she was able to see, she wished she hadn’t. In front of the door, and in the room, were three ponies, blindfolded, bound, and tied to the ground. None of them seemed to be struggling but laboured breathing indicated to Apple Bloom that they were, at least, still alive.
Applejack looked expectantly at Apple Bloom and then motioned with her head to the inside of the room. Apple Bloom lifted a hoof to take a step forward but found herself frozen with fear. Applejack exhaled sharply through her nose and shoved Apple Bloom by pushing her with her head harshly. Apple Bloom stumbled into the room. The scent was somehow even stronger inside the room, but Applejack seemed undeterred.
“This is how we keep our family afloat, Apple Bloom.” Applejack’s voice was quiet but was definitely too loud in the otherwise silent room.
At the mention of the filly’s name, the pony in the middle of the room raised her head, causing Apple Bloom to drift her eyes over to the movement. Her heart sank as she recognized the turquoise pelt on the unicorn, and she wanted to call Lyra’s name, but nothing came out. Lyra started to struggle and writhe around, moving her head against her shoulder repeatedly until her blindfold fell down her head and onto her neck. Lyra blinked for a moment, but then locked eyes with Apple Bloom, a silent plea ringing out through the cloth in her mouth. She had dark circles around her eyes, and the area around her hooves was rubbed raw, dried blood covering the shackles and around the floor, and it was then that Apple Bloom worked out what that stench was.
Lyra seemed energized by the sight of Apple Bloom and pulled at the shackles, metallic clanging filling the room. In comparison to the last few minutes, it was so loud it made Apple Bloom’s head hurt. Lyra screamed, but it was muffled by the cloth in her mouth. She looked wildly around the room until her gaze fell on Applejack, who looked at her with a lack of expression on her face. Lyra growled something that Apple Bloom couldn’t quite understand as she stared savagely at Applejack, tears now falling freely down her face and into the dirty, bloody cloth in the mare’s mouth. The other two ponies in the room were still, each of them looking down at the floor. Not even their ears flicked at the sounds. Apple Bloom swallowed dryly and looked away from Lyra. She didn’t want to see it anymore.
“And I reckon it needs an early gift this month,” Applejack spoke as if Lyra wasn’t even there, continuing her muffled screaming. Applejack calmly took a step back toward the wall next to the door. Apple Bloom followed her sister with her eyes, curiosity mixed with fear egging her on. Applejack turned around to grab something from the wall. Something long. Once she turned around, Apple Bloom gasped. She held a rusted metal rod in her mouth that thickened on the opposite end of where she held it. Upon closer inspection, Apple Bloom deciphered that it wasn’t just rust that reddened the metal.
Applejack walked slowly back to Lyra, who watched her with wide eyes and shook her head furiously, her screaming changing from ones of rage to ones of pleading. Applejack reared back, and as she did so, Lyra looked back at Apple Bloom desperately, their interlocking eyes sending a hard chill down the filly’s body. Applejack brought down her front hooves on the nape of Lyra’s neck, forcing the mare forward and her face hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Apple Bloom looked away from the mare as Applejack brought down the rod with a grunt of effort. There was a squelching crunch this time, not as dry as the first.
The filly shut her eyes—the only thing she seemed to be able to will her body to do. The image of Lyra being forced into the floor replayed in her mind. She was sure that a pony’s front legs weren’t supposed to move like that. And that noise. It made Apple Bloom’s stomach churn. If she had any real strength in her, she would throw up, but she couldn’t.
The room was silent again, and the only thing she could hear was the breathing of the remaining live ponies and her own thundering heartbeat. Apple Bloom looked back, wondering why Applejack wasn’t saying anything. She saw her sister using the lasso she carried everywhere to tie Lyra in a hog-tie and used the extra length of rope to start dragging her out of the room. She looked dangerously at Apple Bloom, who was now afraid of what would happen if she didn’t obey. Fear-induced adrenaline allowed the young filly to follow her sister back out, the metallic door shutting loudly behind them. Applejack dropped the rope for only a moment to blow out the candle, leaving the three ponies in the dark.
Since she couldn’t see, the sound of Lyra’s body being dragged behind her sister, eventually up the stairs as well, was the only thing that forced a mental image into Apple Bloom’s mind as she tried not to step in the blood that trailed behind.
They were back at the firepit. Apple Bloom wondered how many times Applejack had come here in the dead of night, considering she was able to walk in the pitch blackness of the night without tripping on any holes or tree roots. Apple Bloom herself had stumbled a bit, but that was also partly in fault of her nervous, shaking limbs. Applejack dropped Lyra roughly on the ground near the firepit and began to untie her, allowing the mare’s body to splay out unnaturally. The orange mare demanded Apple Bloom to stand near the pit, and the filly couldn’t say no out of fear of consequence.
So the two Apples stood on opposite ends of the firepit. Applejack started eerily humming the same tune from the cornfield all those weeks ago. This time, Apple Bloom did not join in. Applejack seemed to return to her usual, chipper self as she smiled vacantly, nudging Lyra’s body into the centre of the pit. The cheeriness from her sister did nothing to make Apple Bloom feel better, however.
“Alright, Apple Bloom. This is how we keep our home safe,” Applejack explained as she pushed all of Lyra’s limbs into the moderately sized circle of charred wood. Applejack struck another match and held it in front of her. “You have to look right at the firepit, okay? I know you might feel afraid at first, but ya get used to it.” Applejack looked at Apple Bloom, who nodded meekly and turned to look at the stone encircled spot where Lyra’s body lay.
The flame on the match Applejack held flickered, growing larger, and then diminishing to near extinguish. It flickered again and then grew to a size that no single match should be able to produce. Applejack did not let up the humming as she threw the lit match into the fire pit, where it immediately caught the entire area within the border of stones on fire. Apple Bloom took a step back, afraid that the flames would catch her and the entire forest on fire, but it was as if a force field was in place, and the fire stayed exactly within the invisible barrier. It rose higher than a regular fire should have, almost reaching the height of the tallest trees.
The fire burned so strongly that it seemed like everything past the painted circle around the pit was darkened out. Apple Bloom felt the heat on her fur. It was so hot, she thought she’d singe. But as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared. The fire completely went out within the blink of an eye, and where Lyra’s body once was, now was just a sheet of fabric the same colour as her fur.
No, it wasn’t fabric, was it? It was her skin. The rest of her body was gone, and the only thing that remained was the completely uncharred skin of the unicorn. Apple Bloom’s legs wobbled and she felt her body give in to the sensation as she fell on the floor and retched once. Nothing but stomach bile came up, and Applejack chuckled as she took a step into the fire pit, getting soot on her hooves. “I know, sugarcube. It’s quite a bit daunting. But we’ll be needing a new scarecrow soon.”
Apple Bloom started crying. Every emotion she had felt building up suddenly released, and she cried like a newborn foal. Her entire body trembled and she watched helplessly as Applejack hung the turquoise pelt on the blackened, twig rack as if it was a simple coat. This had to be a dream! Where was Luna? When would she wake up? She just wanted to wake up! She wanted her normal sister back.
The filly could no longer stand on her own, and she felt herself being lifted onto her sister’s back as Applejack slid her head underneath Apple Bloom’s body and heaved her up. Apple Bloom was completely frozen, useless to her mind’s demands to leave. She couldn’t move. All she could do was tremble in fear as Applejack murmured empty reassurances while they moved closer to the cellar. Apple Bloom had never wished she had been obedient more than she did in that moment.
Applejack led them back into the horrible, stench-ridden room with now the noises of one less pony in it. Apple Bloom didn’t even want to know who the other two were, and she didn’t want to imagine how many times Applejack had done this. How many times her… her family had done this. This had been going on for longer than they were both alive. It wasn’t just Applejack. It was her whole family. Applejack, probably her parents… Granny… Granny’s parents…
Apple Bloom held back a horrified scream as Applejack opened a second door in the far right corner of the room. She hadn’t even noticed it the first time she was in there. Apple Bloom looked around, but it was even darker in this room, and she couldn’t see anything but the faint silhouette of her sister’s head. Apple Bloom took staggered breaths, weak from crying. Applejack placed her gently on the ground and stroked her mane again. Apple Bloom could hear muffled grunting in a voice much deeper than the ponies in the main room. She looked around for the source of the noise, but all she saw was Applejack.
“I can tell you’re unsure, Apple Bloom,” Applejack spoke gently. “And I get it, trust me I do. I was afraid too.” Applejack’s somewhat comforting presence disappeared as she took a step out of the doorway. Apple Bloom tried to stand, but she couldn’t hold herself up. The muffled grunting grew more desperate as she heard somepony writhing in place. It sounded almost like a warning.
Applejack came back into the room, completely blocking out the light. Apple Bloom heard a wooden thud on the ground as Applejack stopped in front of her. “I can change that.”
Before Apple Bloom could question what that meant, she felt a hard thump on the side of her head, and then the world turned black.
Apple Bloom opened her eyes slowly. She blinked one eye at a time, taking notice of a light source on the floor in front of her. She wondered where she was, and tried to remember what had just happened. She was with Applejack, and they discovered a horrifying place. Or… was it Applejack that showed it to her? Whatever. They were in a room, and then… Something hit her. Was it Applejack?
The young filly shook her head as the memories started to return and her gaze focused on the candle in front of her. She was… in that room. Not the same room, though. A different room. She groaned as her head spun. Why did Applejack do that? As she groaned, the muffled noises became more and more desperate. Suddenly realizing she could actually see because of the candle, Apple Bloom desperately looked around the room to the source of the deep grunting. Barely visible thanks to the weak candlelight, her gaze fell on a large silhouette. The red fur and orange mane were unmistakable and Apple Bloom yelped in surprise, a noise almost unhearable thanks to the cloth in her mouth. Big Mac? But I thought he was doing a delivery! That’s what Granny and Applejack said!
But, like she had learned, they say a lot of things.
Apple Bloom made eye contact with her brother. Her eyes felt puffy from all the crying, and he looked at her, brows furrowed in intense desperation. They were both tied down, although with their hooves in front of them rather than behind them like the other ponies, and they weren’t blindfolded. Apple Bloom looked around. Scrawled on the wall in different hoof writings in different shades of red paint were the same theurgical symbols around the firepit in the woods. Apple Bloom felt even more scared, and she longed for her brother, but they were too far away from each other.
Hoofsteps echoed in from the room outside of where Big Mac and Apple Bloom were trapped. Apple Bloom looked up to see Applejack there, her expression untelling of any emotion. “Good, ya woke up.” She walked into the room and observed the candle. “You’ll learn to accept it. Both of you. For now, we can make an excuse. Big Mac got delayed by the weather, y’know.” She glanced over at their brother, who looked away from Applejack. She turned her gaze back on Apple Bloom. “And you’re busy preparin’ the farm for the next harvest. Or maybe, you’ve gotten sick.”
Applejack smiled vacantly at her. “Big Mac’s close to comin’ home though. I can tell. He don’t struggle much anymore.” She flicked her gaze back to her brother, who stared at the candle. “Your friends’ll come around, I reckon. But I’ll tell ‘em you’re busy, or sick. They won’t ask questions. And within a few weeks, you won’t either.” She lifted Apple Bloom’s chin with a hoof. “Worked for me,” she muttered.
The hat-wearing mare took a step back, then walked towards one of the walls where the writing was the densest. There were arrows pointing down to a record player that Apple Bloom hadn’t noticed before. Applejack turned it on, and the same tune that her sister occasionally hummed started playing. Instantly, Big Mac relaxed and smiled. He hummed along to the song, and Apple Bloom reluctantly found herself humming as well.
“See? It’s already workin’,” Applejack said with a grin. “I’ll come back to check on ya soon. We’re family, ya know. I love y’all.” She turned the corner and shut the door, leaving Big Mac and Apple Bloom alone in the room with the music drowning out all her senses.
Apple Bloom looked back down at the candle. It burned similarly to the match that Applejack lit in the trees, but no matter how large it grew, the light levels emitted were minimal. Around the candle was a red circle painted onto the floor, and within it, different symbols than the ones on the walls and in the orchard. Written on the outside of the circle, following its circumference was written messily in a different shade of red paint:
There were a lot of constants in Ponyville. While mysterious disappearances were one of them, the town was generally a happy place. Smiling ponies often met up to have dinner with their friends, and the odd time that someone would move in, a bright, bubbly, pink mare made sure they had the best welcome. Ponyville had some strange aspects to it, but at least there was one thing that everypony could count on.
Farther out from the main populated area of Ponyville, past the school and along a long path was a family-owned farm. Sweet Apple Acres, boasting, as the name implies, acres upon acres of apple orchard. The farm and family who owned it had been what sprung Ponyville’s existence, and so everypony who lived in the town had the Apples to thank for many things.
Upon visiting the farm, one would often meet at least one of the Apples working diligently on the crop. They supplied most of the town’s food, and were eager to sell it back to the community. Ask any of the four Apples who lived at Sweet Apple Acres what they thought about Ponyville, and they’d say they loved living on the farm. Once the stallion of the household came back from his delayed delivery trip, and the younger foal came over her case of severe heatstroke, the farm was back to regular operations, and somehow, the harvest was even better than before.
Yes, anypony who happened to visit Sweet Apple Acres could really see just how hard-working and happy the family was. There were never any bad harvests—thank Celestia for the good land and earth pony magic—and so the town never had to worry about it. Things always seemed to work out for the Apple family. They were friendly and cheerful, as always.
On the farm, as the month drew close to an end, however, the Apples prepared for a family event. They’d need a new scarecrow to keep the pests away.
