Sweet Apple Secrets

by AuroraDawn

Rating: teen
Tags: Horror, Applejack, Gore, Apple Bloom, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1719

Apple Bloom learns about a family tradition that leaves more questions left than answered.

Apple Bloom is called out to the big barn on Nightmare Night, told she will be learning about a family tradition she did not know even existed. When she arrives, she finds there is more to Sweet Apple Acres than she would ever have expected.

This short story was written for the Quills and Sofas Speedwriting group's Halloween Spooktacular contest. Much thanks to the members of that server for comments and editing help!

Coverart from TheLostNarrator; used with permission. Links to readings are available on my user page!

Published 2020-11-05 01:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2020-11-05 01:40:02 UTC

Sweet Apple Secrets

Apple Bloom walked up to the large imposing barn before her. She wasn’t often allowed to be out on the farm past sunset, but tonight was different. Tonight was special. The yearling continued on to the gable-roofed building, guided only by the crepuscular light of the barest slimmer of a waning moon.

She hadn’t been out on the farm at midnight in a very long time, and despite her intimate familiarity with every rock, tree, and root, this world seemed different and unknown to her. The trees didn’t seem to move right in the wind. In the distance, an apple fell off a branch and landed on a dry leaf, and she jumped.

“Ah, come now, get a hold’a yerself, Apple Bloom,” she said to herself. “Ain’t nothing to be afraid of out here just ‘cause it’s dark.” She steeled herself and carried on to the barn doors, knocking once she arrived.

“Come on in, sis!” a cheery Applejack replied from inside, and Apple Bloom pulled the large wooden door open enough to slide through. “Close it behind you,” she heard from the darkness within, and she followed her instructions.

“Why y’all got it so dark in here, AJ? You know this ain’t safe workin’.” She furrowed her brow, trying to make out anything in the midnight barn.

“This ain’t safe work,” came a whisper in her left ear. Apple Bloom shrieked and tripped on to her side. The voice then laughed heartily, and a hoof offered her help up.

“That ain’t funny, AJ. Why am ah out here? Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”

“Put this on.”

A pile of fabric smacked Apple Bloom lightly in the face and she sighed, trying to figure out what exactly she was to be wearing. After struggling for a few minutes, hearing only the scuffle as Applejack slunk mysteriously around the room, she finally figured it out. It was a hooded cloak, and as her eyes adjusted to what light they could get, she figured it was just as black as the room she was in.

“Ya still didn’t answer my question,” she pouted.

“I told’ya to come out here in the middle of the night because it is Nightmare Night, Apple Bloom, and there are traditions in this family you’ve yet to be told. You got your cloak on right?”

Apple Bloom mulled over the answer given, wondering what tradition she had somehow not only been kept out of the loop on, but had avoided all of her prying eyes and ears over the years. “Ah think so, but ah can’t see a darn thing to tell you.”

“Oh, all you do is complain. One more minute and there’ll be some light.”

Apple Bloom plopped onto her flank, still waiting next to the heavy wooden doors. For all that she could see after being in the dark, Applejack had some mess on the floor, and was busily moving from pile to pile of… something. In a literal flash, a match was struck and Apple Bloom flinched away from the sudden light.

“A little warning next time please.”

“Oh, forry,” the muffled reply came back.

Apple Bloom turned back with newly adjusted eyes and blinked. Applejack was moving slowly in a star formation, lighting candles set around a circle with symbols.

“Applejack, what is that?” Apple Bloom said, her voice monotone and her eyes open wide.

“Thif if Earf pony magick,” she replied, lighting the last candle before stomping her match out. “Sorry. This is Earth Pony Magick, Apple Bloom, and you’re old enough to learn what it is and why we do it.” She turned and looked at her sister, her orange face beaming with pride beneath the shadow of her hood. “And I’m old enough to teach you. Like Granny taught me, and her pa taught her.”

“Applejack what is this? Ah don’t like it.” Apple Bloom shifted slowly around the circle scuffed into the dirt floor of the barn. Within the circle was a ring of eldritch symbols, gleaming red in the candlelight. Within that was a pictogram of… She wasn’t sure. It looked a bit like Discord’s silhouette, but the horns were wrong. “What is that made out of, AJ?”

“Oh worry not, sister o’ mine. It’s paint we use for the side of the barn.”

This brought a little bit of relief to Apple Bloom but she still felt strange, staring at the strange glyphs before her. “Okay, alright. Are you playin’ a joke on me, AJ?”

Applejack brought her hood down and sat next to her sister. The proud smile came off her face and she looked at Apple Bloom with concern and love. “It ain’t no joke, though I suppose it might all feel like one. Y’all need to know what it is and how to do it, though, and we’ll do it every year until I can’t and you can teach it to the next generation of the Sweet Apple Acres’ family. I’m sorry I haven’t been takin’ your concerns seriously.” She looked out at the circle before her, and the dancing shadows cast by the candles. “I’ve been doin’ this for so long I guess I forgot how I first felt, too.”

Apple Bloom leaned against her sister, feeling the familiar warmth come through the cloaks. “Ah forgive ya. Now tell me what it is.”

“You know how we haven’t had a bad year on this farm fer as long as any of us can remember?”

“Well… Kinda. What about a few years back though? We didn’t have as good a harvest as usual.”

“No, but we still had a harvest. Mother Nature still has her part to play. But, well, this tradition is why we ain’t ever gone hungry. Why the apple trees never outgrow their roots and fall. Why during dry years we never get a lightning strike. We do a deal.”

“A deal,” Apple Bloom repeated, staring hauntedly at the circle. “With who, Applejack?”

“I don’t know and I don’t think it’s liable to tell us, nor that it’s good to know for all that matter.”

“Then why do we do it?”

“Because the cost is cheap, and it keeps our family safe. C’mere, sis.” Applejack moved around the circle to the back of the barn and pulled a sheet of burlap off a pile. In it was a white rabbit, hopping silently around a small critter trap. The mare ducked over behind the pile and picked something up in her mouth before turning to face Apple Bloom.

“Applejack, that’s a knife.”

“Ah know pht i’ i’, si’,” the mumbled reply came. She set it down before Apple Bloom. “Just like when I learned, you get to do this part. Ah’ll do the talking for now, but Granny and I will get you taught on how to speak the words soon enough. Pick up the knife, Apple Bloom, and sit next to the middle of the circle, facing me.”

Cautiously, Apple Bloom did as she was told. The knife felt heavy in her mouth, the strange blade twisted and decorated, and she felt that there was more than metal in the utensil she held. She gingerly stepped into the circle, careful not to disturb any of the glyphs, and sat down on the painted goat’s mouth.

Applejack came over to her then, the rabbit dangling from her mouth. She set it down gently between the goat’s eyes and held it down. She caught Apple Bloom’s eye and stared intently.

“Hold this here, by its neck. It’ll mess and scratch, but don’t let it hop away. Good. When you hear me say Anno, plunge the knife into its chest, through into the dirt. Can you do that, Apple Bloom? Look at me. Can you do this?”

Her bottom lip quivered as she contemplated the rush of information.

“This… isn’t Fluttershy’s rabbit, is it?”

“It ain’t, don’t you worry. We always gotta catch a wild one. Can you do it?”

The yearling looked down at the creature beneath her hoof. It squirmed helplessly. She thought of home and family, and the seriousness in her sister’s eyes. And the honesty she represented.

“Ah can do it, yes.”

“Thank ya, Apple Bloom.” Applejack returned to the top of the circle and threw her hood back on. “Hóstias...” she began, and the room suddenly turned completely pitch black save for the two ponies and the circle. “Tibi notae unum...” she continued, and the glow of the red paint pulsed in time with her consonants. “...Familiae nostrae tutum…” The paint now pulsed to Apple Bloom’s heart beat. Cold sweat overcame her, and she felt as if all heat from the hot fall weather had been sucked out of existence. “...Servare anno!”

Hearing her keyword, Apple Bloom drove her head down towards the rabbit, plunging the knife through until the hilt hit flesh. It screamed, its horrible, endless shriek overcoming Apple Bloom’s ears. It went on, and she too shouted in pain as her ears throbbed along with the glow around her. And then there was silence.

A small pool of blood flowed out from the rabbit, but seeped into the ground between the goat eyes like rainfall on sand. Apple Bloom watched as the rabbit mummified before her, watched as the skin vanished to dust, watched as the skeleton broke down into dirt before her. The goat eyes pulsed one final time, and then the light came back to the world.

Apple Bloom stood shaking, realizing then that the knife was still in her mouth. She retched and stepped back, collapsing to her haunches. Applejack walked to her, kicking the painted symbols out as she did so.

“That’s it, dear. You did well.”

“Ah… Ah did?” She didn’t believe it. It felt wrong. But she also felt the warmth of her sister, and of the candles and their light, and of another sense entirely. She realized she had felt it whenever she stepped foot onto the acreage. She had always thought that was the feeling of ‘Home’. She supposed now that it was her home that supplied that comfort, but not in any way she would have expected.

“You did, sis. Come on now. Help me clean this up,” Applejack said softly, blowing out the candles.