Story by the Campfire
“…. Then he heard the ghosts say, ‘Go on – get your look then LEAVE!’”
Around the crackling campfire, four friends laughed at the end of another ghost story. The Pegasus, who finished his telling, did so in a comical way where he used a ridiculous voice and waved his hooves about. Known to his friends as Artie, the Pegasus joined in the laughter with two unicorn brothers and his earth pony best friend. Since Saturdays were their guys' night, the stallions thought it best that since Nightmare Night would be in a few days, they would celebrate their own little Nightmare Night party by telling ghost stories. A simple hang out where they brought a cooler, a place in the White Tail Woods to burn a fire, and a few entertaining stories.
The brothers had gone first. Strong Will told his story about a school counselor who foalnapped a student. Nocturne then talked about a ghost of a foal that haunted a now burned-down house near the sea. Then with Artie’s turn, he told them about an urban ledged about a supposedly real haunted house in Ponyville.
“And the award for the best summary of a B movie goes to – Artie!” Strong waved a hoof at Artie.
The Pegasus snorted, “Yeah, whatever! At least it’s based on something I know is real.”
“Dude, you could find that in pretty much any lazy ghost story.” Nocturne pointed out.
“Oh c’mon,” Strong chuckled, “You’ve gotta admit that it was funny.”
“But that doesn’t mean that it was any good.”
“Oh, whatever!” Strong playfully punched his brother and Nocturne punched back.
“Guys! Guys!” Artie raised his hooves, “We still got enough time for one more story.” He patted the back of his best friend, Inkwell. “And I think we’ve saved the best for last.”
“As if it’s going to top my story.” Nocturne rolled his eyes.
Inkwell adjusted his glasses. “Well, I don’t know if I can, really.”
“Ah, c’mon dude,” Artie replied, “we all know that you’re the best storyteller here. And around Nightmare Night? We know you’re really good at telling a ghost story.”
“That’s the thing… I don’t know if this would be considered a ghost story.”
“In what way?” Strong asked.
Inkwell shrugged, “Namely that… it’s based on vague memories that I’m not one hundred percent sure if they even happened at all.”
“What?” Nocturne tilted his head, “You’ve seen a ghost?”
“No, nothing like that, but just… weird is all. But on a night like this… maybe I should tell you guys about it.”
“Oh boy!” Artie rubbed his hooves, “This is gonna be so good!”
“It better be,” Nocturne reclined his back against a log. “I’ve been waiting to hear an actual good ghost story all night.”
Now that he had his audience, Inkwell stared at the fire that they circled around. He watched for a moment at the bright yellow flames that licked against the charred wood and the smoke that drifted upwards into the starry night.
“Well first off, you guys know that I wasn’t from around here, right? That we moved to Ponyville when I first entered high school?”
“I certainly remembered it,” Artie nodded.
“Okay, so apart from Artie, have you guys ever heard of a place called Rathdrum?”
The two brothers looked at one another for a moment – they shrugged. Saying that they’ve never heard of it.
“I’m not surprised, really. Because the town itself is nearly isolated. It’s north of Vanhoover in the mountainous region where it’s covered by a thick blanket of pines. The town itself is nestled in the middle of a small valley where farms sprang up from yet surrounded by towering mountains. It’s so remote that the nearest train stop is half a day’s away by a dirt road that becomes near inaccessible in the winter from the thick snow we used to get.”
“I don’t think I would keep my sanity in a place like that,” Nocturne remarked.
“Yeah,” Inkwell agreed, “comparing it to Ponyville, it’s near microscopic. There’s a post office, a town hall, a grocery store, a high school, a farmer’s market, a dinner, a hotel, a sheriff’s office… and that’s pretty much it. All the houses are spread out in the valley since it was (and I think still is) a farming community where the only time anypony gets together is to buy something in town.”
“So a place where nothing happens?” Asked Strong.
“…. You have no idea how right you are on that. We’re pretty much the last place in all of Equestria to know what’s going on. Even disasters that happen now and then tend to fly past it. In fact, as a foal, if someone stole something or a house caught fire – it was the talk of the town. It was a place that was boring but, you know everyone there because it was that kind of a town.
“So, you can all imagine how relieved I was when we were finally able to move out. Because as a kid, almost nothing ever happens there. Yet… if I remember it right… it wasn’t always the case. A couple of years before we left, I remember our neighbors had gone missing.”
Now, this got everyone’s attention. “Yeah?” Artie raised an eyebrow. “How?”
Inkwell cleared his throat, tossing a few straying sticks into the fire. “Well, back when I was in jr. high, I came to school one morning to hear that one of the farmers… uh… the Scythes’ I think? They found three of their cattle were brutally killed. At first, some thought that maybe because they lived close to the forest that a pack of wolves had attacked them during the night. But later on, I found out… none of them were eaten. They were carved out and dissected as if some sicko was looking for something but didn’t find it. The only things that were missing from the cows, was that they were completely drained of blood, and their tongues were missing.
“At the time, I shrugged it off and thought that it was just an animal attack. No big deal. However, several days later, the town’s cats had gone missing. Like… all of them. In town, I’ve seen posters gone up with pictures of the pets but no one seemed to know where they’ve gone. Until, one Friday when my family went shopping at the grocers, the pony who brought the stuff into town by the only dirt road came in angry. I remember he went up to the owner asking if what he saw from the road was some sick joke – because he went on to explain that he saw skins of the cats hanging from the branches of the trees alongside the road.”
“The buck?” Nocturne sat up.
“So… yeah, it was pretty shocking for the town to find out where their cats had gone. And the thing was, they did find those skins – but that was it. The bodies themselves were never found at all. I remember going to school finding several students in tears over what had happened – they were inconsolable, asking what kind of monster would do this.
“Then a few weeks later, the town kinda forgot about it until the mail pony from outside of town came. He arrived with overnight delivery, which meant that he had to walk along that long dirt trail in the dark. He was worried if anyone would be in town at all because he said he spotted several large fires in the mountains and wondered if the rest of us were doing something. This was odd because when I went to school to ask who had gone to the mountains, nopony knew as they were at home at the time.
“All of you could imagine that… no one knew what was going on. I think there were rumors that maybe there was a psycho in town. However, that was when things got weird because the Scythe’s – the family that founded dead cattle on their farm – had found something near their property. One morning, they found a carving on a tree that they were sure wasn’t there before. Apparently, it looked something like this…”
Inkwell took a moment to pick up a stick to draw in the dirt. First, he drew a circle, then an upside-down star with seven points, finally he finished by placing a small crescent moon in the very center.
“So, as you could imagine, the sheriff was called, but couldn’t figure out what it meant. Yet, from this very symbol,” he tapped at the ground, “rumors began to circulate that maybe there was a cult in the mountains. What kind of cult? Nopony knew but… it did spread fear as I doubt anyone was brave enough to go out at night – especially along the dirt road.”
“Okay that sounds creepy,” Strong said, “but what does any of this have to do with your neighbors going missing?”
“I’m getting to that.” Inkwell shifted to where he sat on the ground so that the glow of the campfire illuminated him in orange light. “Now, before I go any further – I want you guys to take what I’m about to say not too seriously.”
“Really?” Artie blinked, “Why?”
“Because partly this is the first time I’ve ever told anypony about this. And partly because I’m not sure if what happened was a nightmare, a false memory, or that I remembered it wrong. Perhaps it was my imagination that was influenced by the rumors I’ve heard – but regardless, it’s a memory that has haunted me. So take what I’m about to say with a mountain of salt.”
His friends nodded.
“As I recall, I think I was around… fourteen or fifteen at the time when all of this was going on. We lived in a farmhouse that was close to the forest and we would usually go camping in the summer with my family. One morning, our closest neighbors – a married couple named Jasper and Jade came to our house asking if they could borrow our tent. They said that they were going to go camping at a nearby lake that was about seven miles away. So, I was asked to go to get it out from the basement. Yet, at the time I was kinda in a hurry to get to school on time, so I rushed down to go grab the bag and give it to them before rushing out. However, it wasn’t until later that afternoon that I remembered that we had two tents – an old one that was full of holes that we never threw away, and a new one. So, when I got home and went downstairs, I found that I accidently gave our neighbors the wrong tent.
“Luckily, it was a Friday, and it was about the afternoon. Being so young and stupid, I thought that I would simply just carry the tent up to the lake and be back by dinner. Keep in mind, by the time I put that tent on my back and headed out – I didn’t tell anyone where I was going because I was confident that I would be home before anyone realized I went anywhere. Yeah, it was pretty stupid in hindsight, but I honestly thought I would make the trip because it wasn’t that far.
“And besides, I thought, maybe they would take the old dirt road to get to the lake. It seemed like the perfect shortcut. So, all by myself, I went down the road and into the mountains. As much as I tried to hurry, I got tired easily so several times I had to slow down as I was carrying this heavy bag of canvas, rope, and poles on my back. The further I went along, the more often that I paid attention to the light. I couldn’t tell you how long it took me to make that turning point down the hiking trail towards the lake – but by then, it was no longer noon. The sun was going down so I still had to hurry along, deeper into the forest.
“Now, the forests there aren’t like the White Tail Woods – nor the Everfree either. In pine forests, you couldn't see the sky as the branches are thick with pine needles. Even the ground is uncomfortable to walk on as, unless you have boots or something, you’d be stepping on tree sap and dried, hardened needles that are littered everywhere. And in these forests, the pines were so plentiful that you couldn’t easily see a stone’s throw away from you. There could very well be a bear nearby and you probably wouldn’t see it unless it’s too late.
“As I was going down the hiking trail towards the lake, about halfway there, I saw this symbol,” he patted at the dirt drawing, “on one of the trees. Honestly, I didn’t expect to see it way out here. But at first, I wasn’t entirely worried as I know that hunters, hikers, and campers leave marks on trees all the time. So I kept going. A few minutes later I saw another tree with the carved symbol. And then another… and another… then in groups of three… then four… then six… then ten… The closer I got to the lake, the more and more carvings I saw until it was like every tree was marked by it. Needless to say, I was getting creeped out as I’ve never seen anything like this before. They were just everywhere I turned. In front, behind, the left, and the right.
“I was getting the unsettling sense that something was deeply wrong. As I got closer to the lake, I wondered if my neighbors saw the carvings or if they were even there at all. Then finally, when I got to the lake – the sun was setting behind the mountains, so I had only an hour or two of daylight left. So, I had to find them quickly. It didn’t take too long, however, as I spotted some camping gear by the shore. Yet, when I got close to investigate, I knew something had happened.
“It looked like there was an attack as the camping gear was thrown aside, food spilled over, the bag that had the old tent was slashed. And, most disturbingly of all, there were parts of the ground that were red. But it looked dry as if it had spilled hours ago. Even though it wasn’t fresh, I immediately knew what it was – blood. Worst of all, I saw that there was a dripping trail that led off into the forest.
“You guys could imagine that at that point, I didn’t feel safe at all. Even if there wasn’t a cult or whatever – something had happened to our neighbors. I couldn’t find either of them anywhere, and besides, the sun had set. Night was coming on quickly, so I had to get out of there as soon as possible.
“Going back towards the road, I could have sworn that the carvings on the trees have multiplied. I was seeing them everywhere, and every so often, I could have sworn that I saw shadows going by but… I remember it being so quiet…” Inkwell trailed off for a minute, staring into the fire.
“Yeah?” Nocturne leaned in.
“Sorry just… Thinking back to going back to the road was unnerving. You know how in the forest you could always hear something? Like bugs or animals, bird calls, or even the trees swaying in the wind? Not here. Going towards the road, everything was so quiet except for my steps. I mean there was just… nothing. No bird calls, no bugs, wind – it was all silent, and yet, as I got closer to the road, even though the light was going away – there were a lot more of the carvings that I thought that a whole bunch of ponies had carved them. And yet, everything was still as if the forest knew that there was something so dark and predatorial that even the animals knew it best to stay out.
“Anyway, by the time I finally came out of the forest and onto the dirt road, the sun had gone away and the only light I had was the crescent moon. Which really isn’t much light, to begin with, but this is coming from an idiot that didn’t bring any water or a flashlight. And besides, I was tired, yet getting paranoid that I might not have been alone. That, and I know that my parents were probably having a heart attack that I was missing and would ground me for life. But, what could I do? The neighbors were probably dead plus there might be a bunch of psychos in the woods that may or may not be aware that I’m even there.
“So, I did the only thing I thought was reasonable – I started heading home. Again, I wasn’t sure how long I walked, but somehow, I remembered it being longer. With the trees being covered in darkness on both sides, I was getting the feeling that maybe, I wasn’t alone. I half expected to see a pair of eyes or a thousand to watch me but… I didn’t see anything. Now in the dark, I was listening for… well, I didn’t know what but for whatever nightmarish creature that might be stalking. It didn’t help either that, again, everything was so quiet that at times I had to stop to listen. Even look over my shoulder to make sure that nothing was following me, ya know?”
“I can see that,” Strong nodded, “it’s kinda creepy talking to my job early in the morning – but for a young teen anypony would get freaked out a little.”
“Yeah, but that’s the thing, remember, no one knows I was even out there. I didn’t tell my parents where I was. And besides, the town is so isolated that the only close residence is Vanhoover which is at least seventy or so miles away. So when I say that I had to walk on that dark road alone – I really was. But again, it wasn’t just being alone that got me so paranoid – nor just the carvings and the neighbors been attacked – rather, it was just so dark. Ya know how when you were a kid that you were afraid of the dark – not because of the lack of light, and not the fear that something might be there either – I’m talking about that simply because you can’t see. It’s that when you’re walking nearly blind that was so creepy to me. As much as I felt along the dirt road, practically squinting in the dark to try to make out where you’re going and what’s in front of you. Because I wouldn’t have a clue of what’s there.”
Inkwell paused for a moment to breathe deeply a few times. “Then… it was so quiet, that when I did hear something… or at least… I thought I did… It was enough to get me to scream. I heard hoof steps in the road – like dozens at once. Still, it was quiet but I spent so long in that stillness that any sound might as well be a clap of thunder. So, I immediately stopped and yelled out ‘Who's there?!’ only to get no reply.
“I stood there, trying to peer in the near pitch-black darkness, holding my breath. I didn’t know what was going on, who or what was there. You could only imagine how terrified I was. And how much dread of the sense that I could be killed right there and not know from where. And…” Inkwell paused, “maybe it was my imagination acting up on me, but I could have sworn that in the dim moonlight, right there, on the road,” he pointed, “I saw shadows of ponies there. At least… I think they were ponies.
“Like ghosts, they just stood there spanning across the road in cloaks. And they all stood on their hind legs, using the other’s foreleg to support themselves. It was as if they stood there to prevent me from going down the road. Although I couldn’t see any of their faces, I knew they were looking at me to see what I would do next.
“And I did what anypony would have done, I turned around. But I screamed again. Then, right in front of me, about… as far as we are now Nocturne. I remembered they towered over me, and their hooded cloaks made it look as if they were a living wall. I turned around and around to see that on both ends of the road, they were getting closer.
“I was scared out of my mind. Who were they? What did they want? Did I stumbled on something that I wasn’t supposed to see, and they were coming after me? I didn’t know! It was even more horrifying as the group that was closest to me, I thought…” Inkwell cleared his throat, “I thought I saw splashes of blood on a few of them. When I saw it – to me, it didn’t matter to figure out who they were or what they wanted – I just knew that they were going to kill me.
“So frantically looking around, I did the only thing that came to mind – I ran. I dropped the tent I had and I made a full gallop into the forest. Not knowing where I was going or care that my hooves were being stabbed with pine needles. It didn’t matter, I just needed to get away and fast. I even dropped the tent in the middle of the road, not caring if my parents would be mad at me for it. If anything, I was galloping blindly into the darkness, probably running into a dozen trees along the way. All I remember was that my lungs were on fire, heaving breath after breath. I was so scared that I cried. And I didn’t bother to scream for help, because I knew I was nowhere near anyone that could help me.
“Give me a sec,” reaching behind him to a cooler, he pulled out a can of soda, opened it, and downed it. “Sorry, I didn’t think I would be talking this long.”
“What happens next?” Strong inquired.
Clearing his throat, Inkwell continued, “As I was saying, I was running for my life – literally. I galloped headfirst into bushes, tripped over logs, stumbled over rocks, and getting wacked or scraped by the trees. Really, by the end, it looked like I tumbled down the side of a cliff. For all I knew, I might have. Given how turning cloud white I might have been, I was so tunnel-visioned on not dying that I think I blocked out most of my senses. Because weirdly… I didn’t recall hearing shouts or hoofsteps or… anything. Hence why I'm doubting this even happened at all.
“However,” Inkwell took another gulp. “While I was running, I did find something. Or rather, tripped over it. In the dim light, I looked over to see what it was. And uh…” He cleared his throat but hesitated, “it was… my neighbor. Jade. I knew because of the cutie mark, but other than that… she was dead. Not just dead, but I screamed because the head was… gone.”
The campfire was quiet as Inkwell took another sip.
“While I kept running, I just wanted all of this to end. I don’t think I cried that much more than that night as I was just so terrified that I wanted all of it to stop. My hooves were in agony, my lungs could barely take in any air, my throat was bone dry, and I didn’t want to die.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t escape them, I suddenly came out in an open field. A farm, and one that I knew. The Scythes’, I could instantly tell by the barn. So, I immediately went up to the back door and banged on it until somepony opened it. I was let in, and it probably took them a good… almost an hour for me to get me to calm down to explain what’s going on.
“Turns out, while I was having my horrific adventure, the town was looking all over for me when I didn’t show up to dinner. My parents were worried about me and got the other neighbors and even the sheriff to look for me. So, when I told them that I found a body in the forest, the sheriff sat me down and interviewed me before dropping me off at my house. I don’t remember much after that but I don’t think they were mad at me but relieved that I was okay.”
“So,” Artie said, “did the sheriff look into it?”
“He did the next morning.”
“Oh, let me guess,” Nocturne rolled his eyes, “he spent a few weeks saying he didn’t find anything.”
“…. No,” Inkwell replied quietly. “He did. Not only was the tent found, but he also found the ruined campsite, a few of the carvings on the trees – and with the search party that lasted two weeks, for some reason they found Jasper’s body. But not Jade. And his head too was missing. So obviously, it was no animal attack – this was a double murder. I mean… if the killers were caught, it would most likely be that I would have been an eyewitness. But the thing was… no one could figure out who did it. Or even why they were decapitated.”
“Wait, hang on,” Strong raises a hoof, “why do you say both were decapitated when they only found the husband?”
“Because, before we left the town for good, a hunter found Jade’s skull. They could tell because Jade was a unicorn and Jasper was not. That along with some analysis in a crime lab confirmed that this was indeed Jade. But… what was most disturbing of all, however, was that when the skull was found, it had five arrow bolts embedded in the bone. Oh, and it was found miles away from where her husband’s body was found.
“Anyways,” Inkwell cleared his throat. “When I returned to school the following Monday, I was bombarded by the same question – did I see the cult? Now… while part of me wants to say that I did, the sheriff had pointed out some things in my story that don’t make any sense like… what happened to all those millions of carvings that I saw? How was I sure I saw a chain of ponies in the road when it was so dark? Why didn’t they chase after me? So… I didn’t say much about it. If anything, I haven’t talked about this until tonight.
“As to the cult itself? Well, after the body was found, the town was afraid to go down the road at night for a while. Yet, after that night… there was nothing. No weird fires in the mountainsides, no carvings on trees, and thankfully no dead animals. It was as if they disappeared.
“With… one small exception.” Inkwell downed the rest of the can. “Roughly a month later, I got an envelope in the mail. Which at the time was odd enough as I hardly get any mail. Yet, I could tell right away that this was a hoof delivered into our family’s mailbox as it didn’t have a stamp or any return address. Just my name on it. I opened it up, and there was only a single piece of paper. On it was the drawing of the symbol I saw in the forest. And underneath it… even if this was a prank, it still makes me shutter. Because underneath it was hoofwritten a single question.”
“What was it?” Artie asked.
“It said: why did you run?” He shuttered, “Even if it was genuine, that just opens up to a lot of implications. If the cult was real, and I was indeed stopped in the road by them… were they going to sacrifice me like they did Jade and Jasper – or did they want me to join them?
“Until the day we finally moved out of Rathdrum, I never went back on that road alone. But at the same time, I would often wonder if there was anyone in town that might have been a part of the cult. I mean… it makes sense, right? We live miles and miles away from civilization, so was it crazy that maybe some ponies in town might have been in on it? On the other hoof, maybe there was no cult but an elaborate prank where the murder of our neighbors’ was caught up in it. The thing is, it’s all entirely possible.
“Because of this, it’s the reason why I don’t walk out on rural roads, especially at night. Even though I kept thinking to myself that I might have imagined it all, that they’re very likely no longer around, and that I’m nowhere near Rathdrum… I still fear seeing those dark cloaks blocking the road. That they would travel all the way here to finish with me what they started.”
For a long, long moment, the other three friends waited to hear if there was anything else. But when it became clear that that was the end of it, Nocturne broke the silence. “Okay, now that is a good ghost story.”
“Tell me about it,” Strong agreed, “even if most of that stuff didn’t happen, I’ve got goosebumps over that.”
“Still,” Artie said, patting Inkwell on the back, “I’m more surprised you haven’t told us this sooner.”
“Well, you know me, I tend to keep to myself and all.” Getting up, Inkwell said that they should start going home. But before they did so, he asked, “So… I gotta ask this from you guys, hearing this for the first time. Do any of you think, that maybe there’s some truth in what I said?”
Artie, Strong, and Nocture looked at one another before Artie responded with: “I mean… you being witnessed to a murder is traumatizing enough.”
“But the cult stuff?”
“.... That depends, how blunt do you want me to be?”
“You… you guys don’t buy it either, huh?”
“As a ghost story,” Nocturne admitted, “I think it has several layers of creepy. You got your weird symbols, then the animal mutilations, and then your neighbors getting killed to top it off. But in reality…? Eh… I don’t know, it seems a bit too farfetched. And this is coming from a guy that has read whatever horror novel that he could get his hooves on.”
“I mean no offense to you,” Strong added, “I think it took guts just to tell a story like that. But then again, you were younger, in the dark, and that you just walked out of a crime scene. So… Going off of… What’s it called? Something razor?”
“Occam’s razor?”
“Yeah, that’s it! Where the simplest and more innocent explanation is the most likely, I think I have to side that it might have been your imagination playing tricks on you because you were that scared. And again, I don’t blame you at all! But if you ask me if the cult thing really happened…?”
“Okay, and what about the note?”
“Maybe you were pranked,” Artie said, “you said so yourself you were in jr. high at the time. And I know that ponies that age tend to be jerks so… it’s possible that someone just drew it up and put it in your mailbox to mess with ya.”
Inkwell sighed, “Still, it was good at least to get it off my chest.” Getting up, he added, “Actually, before we head back, I’m going to find a bush for a sec. Be right back.”
The other stallions said alright, watching Inkwell walk off into the forest until he was out of sight. Just as they started to gather up their things, Nocturne turned to them saying he had an idea. Picking up a stick, he went over towards the path they came from and started drawing in the dirt.
“What are you doing?” Strong asked.
“I was thinking,” He said after drawing a circle. “That with a ghost story so good, I think it’s best that I end this by freaking him out a little.” He then proceeded to draw lines within the circle.
“Are you drawing that weird symbol thing that Ink was talking about?” Artie asked.
“Yeah, so after we put out the fire and all, we’ll start walking home when I’ll point to this on the ground saying that I didn’t see this coming in - and then let’s see how he’d react.”
“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Strong frowned, “He just told us about finding a dead body in the middle of the-”
“This isn’t about the bodies, okay?” Nocturne looked up, having finished drawing an upside-down seven-pointed star. “I’m not that big of a douchebag. Now, I want to freak him out of the whole cult thing. It’ll be funny.” Then to finish the drawing, he put in at the center a crescent moon.
Suddenly, the campfire that has been blazing all this time - suddenly goes out.
Minutes later, Inkwell walked out from the forest and into the moonlight campsite. “.... Next time we should probably bring a roll of toilet paper.” He grumbled. “Okay guys, we should start heading…” He paused as he noticed that not only had the fire gone out and that their things were still laying around - but his friends were nowhere to be seen.
“Uh… Artie? Strong? Nocturne?” He called out. “Hey, guys? Where are ya?” The only thing to answer back was the crickets. “Guys? Hey, c’mon, this isn’t funny! We can’t just leave our stuff lying around!” Still, no one answered. “Guys?”
But on that night, his friends didn’t reappear. As much as he tried to call out to them, even looking around the campsite for a clue - he didn’t find anything.
The next day, with three of his friends gone missing, a search party was sent out into the White Tale Woods. Day after day, despite ponies calling out for them, flying repeatedly over the canopy, and even spells were cast in hopes to find something - anything… it proved to be fruitless. In Ponyville, missing posters were put up in hopes that someone might have seen them. But even with a cash reward, pulled together by the families of the missing ponies; nothing emerged.
With every passing week, the search parties grew smaller and smaller. Despite going to the campsite to look a dozen times and going outward in every direction - nothing was ever found. Eventually, shortly after Nightmare Night and cold November rolling in, the search was given up. Much to the dismay of the families involved, they came to believe that Artie, Strong, and Nocturne were dead.
While the town mourned, Inkwell couldn’t believe that despite all the time and effort to find out what happened to his friends to end up being empty hoofed. His worst nightmare of losing the only friends he had came true in the most unexpected of ways. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. Part of him hoped against all hope that somehow, his friends were still out there, and maybe they were hidden in the one place that nopony had thought of looking.
Yet, as October rolled into November, as the search parties dwindled until it was only him; even Inkwell began to doubt his hopes. Eventually, as much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself… his friends were gone. Yet, after Nightmare Night, Inkwell felt that before he finally gave up, he should take a look at the very last place he saw them - one last time.
Going back to the small campsite, he didn’t expect to see anything there. In the cold air where the trees have lost most of their leaves, he thought he would see a few longs and a circle of rocks that still have the charcoal remains of the fire they’ve burned. Yet, through the tickets and the branches, before he went up to the site, he saw something. Though he couldn’t quite make it out, there were three ponies there. All of whom have the exact coat colors of his friends.
Could it be?
Inkwell’s pace quicked as he approached the site. At first, he thought that somehow, Artie, Strong, and Nocturne had come back. However, as his quick trot turned into a gallop… something wasn’t right about all of this. Though he could see three ponies were sitting on the logs, it was all too quiet. He didn’t hear anyone talk, laugh, or… anything. They just sat there, unmoving.
Then as he turned a corner around a bush where he got a clear view of the campsite, to his horror, he understood why.
From the cutie marks, Artie, Strong, and Nocture were there. Sitting upright - if sumping - on the logs facing where the campfire was. However, that was the only way he could identify them at all. Inkwell let out a scream because behind them, every tree was carved by that cursed symbol he saw back in Rathdrum. Worst yet, all three heads of the stallions were missing. As if a heavy blade had cut through each of them in one fell swoop. Leaving trails of dried blood to leak down on themselves.
Of course, Inkwell galloped back into town to get help. And soon, after the police had looked at the site and looked for evidence, the bodies were taken to be examed. After the autopsy, the results that came out were disturbing.
All three stallions were alive mere hours before Inkwell had come across them.