> Rumour Has It > by daOtterGuy > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Foreword > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A rumour has three parts. The incident that led to its creation. The truth of what actually happened. And the consequences of spreading it in the first place. Rarely, when someone starts a rumour, do they remember the third part. > Opening Statement > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Log Entry ### on [##/##/##],  The following is a transcription of Cross Stitch’s journal. An apprentice seamstress to Hemline of the earth pony-dominated town Gulp Gulch; an outpost on the far side of the Badlands that acts as a trading post between the fledgling town of Appleloosa and Equestria’s southern neighbours.  This journal was retrieved intact from the hospice located on the south end of town by S.M.I.L.E agents after a transitory merchant from Trottingham on their way south stopped at Gulp Gulch and reported the town abandoned by all forty-three residents to the Royal Guard branch at Appleloosa. The journal appears to be addressed to Cross Stitch’s mother Knitting Yarn who, on follow-up in his home town of Canterlot, has been found to have died within the last four years.  Further investigation by agents into the town showed no obvious signs as to what happened to the missing populace. There is significant damage across town from an unidentifiable creature. Of particular note is the destruction of most light sources amongst all buildings and trails of an unknown oil-like substance that S.M.I.L.E researchers are currently studying. The journal describes a shadowy monster as the cause of the damage, however, we have no record of any kind of beast that matches what is described within the journal nor a magical phenomenon that could replicate the behaviour of whatever ravaged the town. Copies of this journal have been sent to the Canterlot Research Institute, and the overseeing Guard assigned from Her Majesty’s Personal Service in their ongoing investigation into what is being referred to as the Rumours incident.  In the meantime, Gulp Gulch has been locked down and public entry has been denied. A temporary outpost has been constructed westward of the town to reroute travellers until the cause of the town residents’ disappearance has been determined. Agent Corporal Scribe > Journal Entry 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Mum, This morning was quite the hullabaloo! Hemline and I were just minding our own business fixing up Spit Take’s rather substantial hat collection when Lacey came careening through the front door claiming that she couldn’t find her brother Dust Cropper anywhere and that he was missing.  Hemline chided Lacey for interrupting our work and asked her if she was sure. Lacey replied that she double absolutely was. Hem then asked if Dust was pulling one of his pranks again and Lacey looked riper than a tomato when she answered with a drawn-out no. It was pretty obvious that those two were up to no good again and I confess that I found myself chuckling at her foalishness.  Course, Hem didn’t believe her one bit. Rolled her eyes with a weary sigh over having to deal with their antics again. Told Lacey that she would come with her to look for him while I continued working. Sat by myself stitching hats ‘til sundown before Hemline returned. Looked rightly peeved as she stomped through the shop with a tight-lipped Lacey trailing behind her.  She ripped right into the poor filly, telling her to give up on this wild goose chase and tell her where her brother was hiding. The filly wouldn’t budge. After another tongue lashing, Lacey finally shouted out that Dust had been taken by a monster. There’d been a gaggle of giggles about the shop alongside myself as Hemline stared down Lacey with a mother’s righteous fury. Wasn’t the first time the little filly had claimed her brother had gotten eaten by some beastie in the Badlands. Hem started on another tirade as she tried to pry out Dust’s hiding spot from Lacey, but she was adamant that some monster made of darkness made off with the poor colt. Exasperatedly, Hemline told Lacey it was getting dark and she needed to tell her where Dusk was so she could bring him home. Cheeky filly still refused to say. The gall on that one! Fed up with the whole thing, Hem ended up telling Lacey to go to her room and that she and I would go find the colt.  We searched right up until the moon rose into the night sky, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Though this latest prank was annoying, I had to give it to Dust. This was definitely one of his better hidey-holes if he could last this long without us stumbling across him.  We ended up calling off the search and returning to the shop. Hem was furious, but since Lacey wasn’t cooperating, there wasn’t much either of us could do. She decided to just call it a night and we’d get back to it in the morning. As Hem said, ‘if that doofus colt of mine wants to sleep out in the cold, so be it'. I retired to the bedroom and started writing to you like I always do. I’m sure I’ll wake up to Hem’s screeching in the morning when Dust comes crawling back into the store hungry. Good night, mum.  Love, Cross > Journal Entry 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Mum,  Things are a real mess right now. Dust didn’t show up in the morning, and, even worse, Lacey is gone too. It all started this morning when I woke up to find Hemline fretting at the breakfast table. She was understandably worried about Dust still not being home and chomping at the bit to go look for him again. Lacey was looking pleased as punch, which did nothing but sour her mother’s mood. After shoveling down some hay cakes, we were all out the door searching for the wayward colt. Much to Hem’s fury, Lacey spent the whole morning telling ponies that Dust had been taken by a shadow monster, sticking close to the lie from yesterday. Usually, it was at least chuckle-worthy, but with the stress of Dust’s disappearance, it was starting to wear on us.   By sundown, Hem was done with Lacey’s lies and took her back to the house. Told her to stay in her room. She then asked the other townsfolk to help and we ended up having half the town trying to find Dust’s hiding place.  Once night had fallen, we called off the search for the day and went back home only to find Lacey had run off. Poor Hem was beside herself as she cussed up a storm in the living room, going back and forth between anger and worry. I tried to calm her down, but she wouldn’t listen. Grabbed a half-filled lantern off the peg and trotted out into the night telling me to watch the house front while she was out. I told her to come back inside and wait, but Hem wasn’t listening. I asked her to at least top off the lantern before heading out, but she was too worried. Was really eager to be out looking for her missing foals. Can’t say I blame her.  The last words she told me were to be ready with hay cakes in the morning.  I’m mighty worried about those three, but there’s nothing I can do now. Hopefully in the morning, all three of them will be back and we can put this whole thing behind us. Good night, mum. Love, Cross > Journal Entry 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Mum, She didn’t come back this morning. Both Lacey and Dust are still missing, and now Hem is too.  I knew something was wrong when it turned to midday and I still hadn’t seen her. Went to see Guiding Light at the hospice who immediately got the whole town searching for them. ‘Bout midafternoon, Fine Wine found Hemline’s lantern on the outskirts of town. It was empty and had its glass smashed in with the leftover oil splattered around the rock it was found on.  The herd nearly went into a blind panic, scared about what might have happened to her or her foals. That something might happen to us. Got even worse when Spit Take suggested that the shadow monster Lacey had spoken about might have done it. Guiding wasn’t having it, but Spit was adamant that something might be out there. I don’t personally disagree with him. We are near the Badlands and it is a dangerous place.  Things only went further downhill when that rumour-mongering wretch Jam Tart slyly said she’d heard a dang rumour about the shadow monster taking ponies that didn’t have a light on them. Silver Shilling rightfully told her off, saying that she was just stirring the pot again. Jam played the old victim card and said she was just relating what she had heard. Clove Brew, her partner in crime, added that it would explain the empty lantern. Hem accidentally broke the lantern and spilt the oil out. Got snatched shortly after by the monster. Those vile jerks then cackled to each other. Disgraces, both of them. They never liked Hem and they were just poking the bear because those two loved to cause a mess.  Course that started a whole hullabaloo with townsfolk either backing up the rumours with some made-up hearsay they had allegedly heard or retorted that those rumours were ridiculous.  Guiding eventually had to step in and take over. Told the lot of us to go home and that they would all search for Hem and her foals tomorrow. Said that all three of them would probably show up tomorrow morning, and, if they didn’t, he would send a message to the Royal Guard station at Appleloosa while they continued to look.  Jam, of course, had to get in the last word and snidely told Guiding that she hoped he’d stocked up on candles. As I got ready to leave, I overheard Guiding ask Silver about some shipment. I couldn’t hear the full thing since Spit ended up interrupting me.  Asked about his hats. Told him they would be done soon (Hem being missing won’t stop her from tearing into me for slacking off when she gets back). ‘Gainst my better judgement, I asked what Spit thought of all these rumours. He was a good friend, but after hearing what he said I wish I’d kept my questions to myself.  He had gone real quiet before he gave me this look that I couldn’t place. Told me that with Dust and Lacey missing, it had just been a minor tragedy, but with Hem also gone it was nearly assured that things were going to get worse before they got better. He was quiet again for some time before declaring that he was gonna keep a light on that night and that I should too. As I’m sitting here writing to you mum, I can’t help but look out the window at the pitch blackness of night and feel a little afraid. I normally love the evening, but with everything else happening, I just don’t feel comfortable. The lantern is only half-full right now and I think I’m going to top it off before bed. Just in case. Good night, mum.   Love, Cross > Journal Entry 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Mum, It’s gotten worse. Guiding is gone. Visited the hospice this afternoon when he didn’t join the town search party in the morning. All we could find was an unfinished letter to the Royal Guard requesting assistance and the nubs of some burnt-out candles by his desk. Silver blamed himself since he wasn’t able to get Guiding’s replacement shipment in time. Things escalated even further when it was discovered that Ole Money, Ember Smith, and Post Runner were also missing. No trace of any of them except for some empty candle holders and smashed lanterns. Well, not the only trace. There was also oil splattered around the busted lanterns. We had presumed it was just leaking fluid, but it didn’t quite match the typical stuff we use. Fine Wine, on a second look, noted that it was the same as the oil found near Hem’s lantern. He ended up apologising since he had presumed at the time that it was the regular oil. Hard Tacks suggested it was some special stuff from Canterlot. The more panicky members of the herd were claiming it was left by the shadow monster. Speaking of, with seven ponies missing due to unknown circumstances, it was inevitable that the discussion would return to that nonsense. Fine Wine had started the whole thing by saying that he’d seen the lights out at Ember Smith and Post Runner’s homes the night before. Clove Brew added that he’d seen Ole Money’s lights go out too. Everything went to Tartarus when Henny Crafts screamed that the monster had got them.  Fear settled over us nearly instantly. It was harder to wave off the rumours when they seemed to be coming true and Guiding had been the only one able to keep us all sane.  Somepony suggested heading for the nearest town, but Hard Tacks had retorted that the journey was too long. If light really did ward off the beast, they wouldn’t make it to Appleloosa before the lanterns ran out of oil.  Silver shouted that it didn’t even matter since only strong light could ward off the monster. I thought it was a load of hooey since no one had mentioned that before, but others started backing him up, using the smashed lanterns as evidence that he was right. Hard Tacks told them off saying that it was all hearsay, which ended up starting a big ole’ kerfuffle over whether the rumour was true or not.  Jam Tart, of all ponies, ended up shutting the whole thing down. Told the herd they were getting carried away with themselves and that they should take the time to rest. Followed up by saying that they can all meet the next morning and decide on what to do then. This calmed down the herd enough for everyone to go their separate ways. Spit Take approached me afterwards and asked to stay at Hem’s place for the night. Said he felt it was too dangerous to be alone. I agreed to let him stay with me, which is why I’m now held up in my bedroom with Spit Take laying on a pile of blankets by my bed. We have about half a dozen lanterns lighting up the room, just in case, but this strong light business is probably a whole bunch of hogwash.  Course, I’ve never seen the night be so dark before. Every time I look out my bedroom window, the darkness feels almost sinister to me. Like it wants to hurt me, but can’t quite reach. But that’s just the nerves talking. I’m sure everything will be fine in the morning. It has to be. Good night, mum.   Love, Cross > Journal Entry 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear, Mum We’re trapped in the hospice now. Only place left in town that’s safe. Though, I guess I’m getting ahead of myself. The morning had started horribly. I woke up to find Spit Take staring at the door, white as a sheet. He told me there had been scratching at the door all night. I told him it was probably his imagination since I hadn’t heard anything, but he asked me to check. A quick look proved how wrong I was. The entire back of the door and floor were covered in deep gouges and all the lights in the room had been smashed in with that weird oil splattered everywhere. It was clear the monster had granted us a visit.  I must have looked terrible when I rushed back into the room to check the lanterns as Spit assured me that he had been keeping the lights topped up through the night as soon as he had started hearing the noises. I thanked him and told him we needed to check in with the other town folks. Spit agreed.  On leaving the house, we were immediately confronted by Silver Shilling staring towards the entrance of town. I asked him what was wrong and he just pointed down the road with a shaky hoof. I didn’t want to look since I knew I wouldn’t like what I saw, but I still did.  There was a wall. It was solid black and cut the town in two. The entire front half was taken over by the blackness. The thing looked almost alive, subtly wriggling in place like a bunch of mealworms. I swore that I could almost see faces on the surface of the block, whirling around on the surface. As Silver, Spit and I stared in horror, the rest of the townsfolk showed up.  Jam, Henny, Clove, Hard Tacks, and the rest. It was eerily quiet as we stared at the shadowy mass unable to understand what we were looking at. Jam was the first to snap out of it and do a quick head count. We’d lost another twelve ponies since last night, all of which had been where the wall was now. Didn’t take a genius to figure out they were gone. We mourned in silence until Henny broke it with her hysterics. Claimed she knew the monster would stop them somehow. That Char-Broil, rest her soul,  had told her it would wall off the town to keep them from escaping. Should have run when we could yesterday.  Hard retorted that she was speaking nonsense again. Told her that the wall obviously wasn’t the shadow monster. To prove it, Hard said he would take a closer look. He made a big show of inspecting the block. Started off confident, but only lasted a few moments. Eventually, he turned around to face us all shaken up. Told us that the wall was moving. That it was coming further into town. Course the herd started up another round of panicked mutterings, which got cut short by Spit yelling at Hard to run for it. Before Hard could so much as blink, the wall ate him. A massive beak of some kind stretched out of the surface of the block and snapped Hard up in seconds. Didn’t even get a chance to scream before he was fully swallowed. We were stunned for a moment, uncomprehending what had happened before fear took over. We galloped in the opposite direction, terrified. Henny screamed that it was coming for us. In response, the wall began to speed up, noticeably chasing after us. Still slow, but that did nothing to calm anyone down as it crept forward.  Spit Take had the sense to scream at everyone to grab what light sources they could on the way. Several ponies did as he asked as we all raced towards the hospice, the building furthest from the encroaching darkness.  We all holed up in the main atrium, placing lanterns and candles all around the room to brighten it up as much as possible. Took the time to also brighten up the adjoining rooms like the kitchen, study, and dining room. After we finished protecting ourselves, we waited, fearfully chattering to one another. I confess that I wound up pressed up against Spit during this time. I just desperately needed to be near a friend and he didn’t seem to mind me burying myself in his fur. While I tried to keep calm, I heard the terrified conversations of the others.  Some claimed the monster was a bird. Others said it was a wolf since they had seen sharp teeth along the edges of its mouth. Another told a terrified Henny that the beast was some type of giant worm. Fear put words in our mouths as we claimed it to be nearly every possible monster known to ponykind. Even the ones that didn’t exist anymore.  Eventually, the darkness caught up to us. Shook the building to its foundation and covered all the windows with its shadows leaving nothing but the glow of the lights to see by. I thought I couldn't have been more scared then at that moment, but then the red eyes appeared. Showed through every opening into the outside world. Beady things with slitted pupils that raked over all of us cowering inside. Then a whisper echoed through the room, this low muttering sound akin to a faint breeze. Couldn’t make out anything substantial personally, just bits and pieces, but ponies were more than happy to fill in the blanks later on. Just as suddenly as it started, it all stopped.  We were all alone. Or at least could trick ourselves into thinking we were.  Now, we’re just twiddling our hooves trying to figure something out. Everyone is on edge and pacing about the building trying to keep their wits about them. We all regularly check the lights to ensure we’re still secure, but no one can think of a next step. Spit and I are holed up in Guiding’s study. I’d requested it since it was the only room with a desk and, well, I needed to get away from everyone else. Spit is the only one I feel comfortable around right now since he’s the only one keeping it together despite the circumstances. We’re also the two main ponies trying to find a way to escape from the monster. Been taking in other folks’ suggestions. Hopefully, we can find a clear path to Appleloosa, gallop the whole way there as fast as we’re able, distance be darned. Right now though, I don’t know how we’ll get out of this, but I do know we’ll think of something. I’ll keep you up-to-date. Good night, mum. Love, Cross > Journal Entry 6 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear, Mum Our situation just keeps getting worse. Lost more ponies today, and space. We lost the kitchen first. A few ponies had been prepping food for the group when Henny had galloped out of there screaming at the top of her lungs. The monster had grabbed her back leg with a beak lined with sharp teeth and dragged her back into the darkness. She had pawed at the floor and cried for help, but none of us could get ourselves moving. Cowards, all of us. But, to be fair, it had been so shocking at the time that we’d been frozen in place. Even if we could get ourselves unfroze, what were we supposed to do? What could we even do? A solemn comfort as I continue to see Henny’s crying face in my mind. We shored up against the room by closing the door and doubling up the lanterns at the threshold hoping it would serve as a barricade against the monster, but I’m not holding out hope for that. If it hadn’t had much trouble taking the kitchen, I doubt it would be much bothered taking more.  This statement was proven true, when not a few hours (days?) later when the monster had taken over the dining room. We’d heard Clove wailing up a storm and had all rushed to see what had happened. Clove was standing on the table, the shadows surrounding him, as he begged for Jam to come and save him. With the shadows hanging around the edges of the room, none of us could get in there to pull him into the light. We watched helplessly as the monster’s maw slowly rose from the floor underneath Clove and snapped shut around both the table and the pony. Poor guy. I never liked him, but he didn’t deserve that kind of fate. Jam hadn’t been the same since then. Had been proactive on our escape plan before, contributing lots of different ideas, but now she just stares listlessly into space. When the beast had taken the foyer sometime later, she’d stood up and walked willingly into the monster’s open beak. No one had tried to stop her. We all figured that if she wanted to give up, we had no right to intervene. Things have settled down, but we’re only twelve strong now, and none of us are in good shape.  Spit and I are the only ones still thinking up a solution. Some sort of escape from this unending nightmare. But we’re both coming up blank. The others are so hopeless, they just seem to be waiting for the inevitable. If I’m being honest, I’m getting to that point too, but I refuse to give up! You didn’t raise a quitter, and I’ll be fighting until the very last moment. At least Spit is still with me, still has spirit in him. I’m really thankful for that since having him around makes things a lot more manageable. Can always lean against him if I ever feel overwhelmed and he never seems to mind. I’m going to get back to figuring out an escape plan now. Wish me luck. Good night, mum. Love, Cross > Journal Entry 7 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear, Mum It's just us left, me and Spit. Not too surprising as the others had been gradually losing any spirit they had left as time went on. Spit and I both became aware of how far gone they had become when Spit noticed that the others hadn’t been keeping on top of the lights in the atrium. I’d looked to Silver Shilling who had been slumped up against the wall. He just tapped the jars of oil next to him and gave me a sad smile.  Taking the hint, both Spit and I grabbed all the remaining lights and oil we could then barricaded ourselves in the study. It hurt to watch no one put up a fuss or come with us, but I wasn’t going to force those who didn’t want to try anymore.  I actually took a quick peek out the door recently and found that the shadows had come right up to the step confirming that we were the only ones left in town.  Now, we just toil away at plans that don’t go anywhere. We were stuck and couldn’t figure out a solution to our predicament. In a moment of frustration, Spit had even cussed out Lacey for starting this whole mess with the monster. I had to correct him by saying that the monster had got Dust first and that Lacey hadn’t made the monster. She had just been a foal. Spit gave me that weird look again before he finally shook his head and apologized. Said he needed a quick rest and asked if it was okay to lay down next to each other by the desk while he tried to fall asleep. He’s still slumped up behind me right now. I tried waking him up earlier when I got to start writing, but all he did was mumble something about everything being his fault before going back to sleep. I don’t have the heart to disturb him, not with our current situation, but I’ll have to reassure him that he’d done nothing wrong. I do wish he would wake up on his own soon. I feel really lonely without him. Still, I’ll let him sleep a while longer before trying again. Won’t hurt any since we’ll both need all the rest we can get before making a run for it. Little worried about how low on oil and candles we are, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. Good night, mum.  Love, Cross > Journal Entry 8 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear, Mum It’s just me left. Spit’s gone. Got taken by the shadows just a while ago. He looked peaceful as the monster devoured him. I’m almost jealous of how unafraid he looked in his final moments. Especially since now, I’m the last pony here.  A small bit of oil is left in the lantern. The candles went out shortly after I lost Spit. The glow is so weak now. I can feel that thing pacing about the edges of the light. Biding its time until it can grab me too. Its red eyes leer at my back as I write down my thoughts. My potentially final thoughts. I can hear the clacking of its beak and gnashing of its teeth as I huddle up against Guiding’s desk, hoping for some miracle to save me at the last moment. I don’t think I’m gonna make it, Mum. I just don’t see how I can get out of this. I’m trapped. I know it. The monster knows it. At this point, I’m just putting off the inevitable out of spite.  The lantern oil is almost gone. The monster is looking really excited, practically jumping in place now that it's so close to its final prey. I’m feeling numb to the whole thing now that it’s so close to the end. Hard to be afraid of death when there’s no way out. Comforting in the wrong sort of way.   But I don’t want to die. I want to finish my apprenticeship with Hemline and go back to Canterlot. I want Spit to come back so I don’t feel so alone. I want to wake up from this horrible nightmare and have hay cakes again. I shouldn’t have left. It shouldn’t have mattered how much it hurt to live in the same town you had died in. Dealing with that is better than this.  Who am I kidding? I’m scared. I’m so scared. I want to see you again, Mum. I want to hug you again. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, someone, save me! Anyone! I’m begging you. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t— > Closing Statement > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Log Entry ### on [##/##/##], As a follow-up to the above incident, we did, in fact, find both Lacey and Dust Cropper. They had been dead for several weeks. Both foals were trapped within a latch box inside of a tool shed on the outer edge of Gulp Gulch. Cross-referencing the journal along with our investigation, it seems Dust Cropper and Lacey had devised a prank to trick their mother Hemline into thinking that they were missing when they had in actuality been hiding nearby. Dust Cropper went in first, Lacey reported that she couldn’t find her brother, then got in herself afterward to keep up the charade. What neither foal had anticipated was that when they got inside, the latch would close on the outside making it impossible to open again from the inside. Dust Cropper would have died from asphyxiation within a matter of minutes when Lacey left him. Presumably, Lacey was not paying attention when entering the box later on and realized only too late that she had trapped herself inside with her then-deceased brother.  Between this and the journal, the entire situation is a complete tragedy. I don’t know what actually caused those ponies to disappear, nor do I necessarily think it was that shadow monster or whatever it was, but the fact that this whole situation was started by a stupid prank from two foals makes this so much worse.  I recommend sending a letter to the company that produces the latch boxes to include a new safety feature to open them from the inside. Additionally, we should set up regular patrols to these outlying outposts to ensure nothing like this happens again. If even a single other pony had visited, if the crown had done its job of proper oversight, this entire incident could have been prevented.  We need to do better.        Captain Shining Armour  > To My Most Faithful Student > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Most Faithful Student,  I would like to preface this letter by stating that I am not mad with your brother for sharing details of the Rumours incident with you. He is immensely saddened and frustrated by this event and it is reasonable for him to seek solace from someone he trusts. However, I am disappointed that you used your status as my personal student to retrieve important documents relating to this case from high-ranking individuals and launch a private investigation into the event without my permission or knowledge.  You will not do this again and I have seen to it that you will be unable to do so in the future.   That being said, I will answer your questions to the extent that I am able to. Firstly, yes, there are many prior instances of a town of ponies disappearing seemingly overnight and many of them remain unsolved to this day. They usually happen along the outskirts of our borders and the cause is frequently resolved on public record as the residents collectively lose themselves in the nearest wild zone. This is the best that we can come up with in these situations as there is only so much information we can glean before we hit an inevitable dead end. That is the nature of this particular beast and one I am continuously frustrated with. In regards to your second question, no, I do not believe that Cross Stitch was the cause of the townsfolks’ disappearance. Nothing of the information known about Cross would suggest that he would be capable of the feat nor does any of the evidence found at Gulp Gulch suggest that a pony was the culprit. Unfortunately, and I am genuinely saddened to do this, the Rumours incident will most likely have to be resolved with the default “lost in the wilderness” despite knowing that this was not the case.  Finally, you asked what I think caused the event in the case of the prior theory being incorrect. Know that I am hesitant to give my opinion since I have seen much over hundreds of years and there is no guarantee that anything I might say is correct or match this incident.  However.  There was a time some several hundred years ago that an event similar to the ones described in Cross’s journal occurred. A pony had disappeared and then wild speculation had run rampant through the town on the cause of their disappearance. Rumours started to spread and over the course of several days, all of the residents disappeared leaving the town in disarray. That incident has been marked as unsolvable. But, there was a detail in both stories that I have since latched onto while reviewing this incident.  According to witness accounts, the strange happenings only occurred after the towns ponies started voicing their fears to each other. Every time the rumours escalated, the occurrence changed to reflect it. Both incidents appeared to feed off of the imagination of the ponies experiencing the incident in question. I cannot guarantee there is any connection, but it is difficult to ignore such a coincidence when no other avenues of inquiry have presented themselves.  Regardless, this is baseless conjecture with no grounding in the evidence acquired by field agents. This could be worth looking into or it could not. At a minimum, I ask that you cease your investigation into this matter for I would be devastated to hear of you disappearing like the other residents of Gulp Gulch. Harsh as this may be to hear, if it was, in fact, rumours that ended up being their downfall, then they regrettably reaped what they sowed.        Sincerely, Princess Celestia