"Now that I did say what I have, we have to go, we aren't going to last here any longer if we just stand here-" Sweetie Belle hushed her from the start.

"You can't at least, expand? Scootaloo's been secretive about her, she never stated outright anything." Sweetie Belle stepped up to her. Pick Pocket wasn't eager at all. Her eyes lighting up with fear.

"You two are complete imbeciles!" She snapped. "Can't you see that we need to go?" I shook my head. There wasn't a need to rush.

"Now, we're bucked. I warned you, you just cared not to listen!" She's very dramatic. Was that in her genes? She moved away, pushing past us as she paces frantically around. "Your going to buck everything up! You need to trust ponies other than the ponies here!"

"Your getting worked up over nothing," I sigh at her dramatics. She was very dramatic, can't even calm down in the least. She'll give herself a heart attack if she keeps that up. Though, I doubt that would make a difference in the long run."We don't even know if she kn--" The lights flickered and moved. They were flung about without much effort, putting a spotlight on us. Pick Pocket was heaving by now, her normally calculated form was out of sync. She stumbled back before the room shifted with an aroma filling the air.

"What the buck is going on!?" I screamed. Suddenly, I found myself glancing at Sweetie Belle. She wasn't responding much."Sweetie, what are you doing?!"

"What's that smell?" She ignored me completely Sweetie Belle sniffed the air-it smelled like the air when winter strikes. The lights were gone automatically and the room engulfed in black for a moment before it was lit. Trotting by the window, she found her answer"Is that snow? Snow wasn't out there before." I stomped my hoof-it was wooden but not very sturdy.

"Its abandoned," I look towards Sweetie Belle, weary. "How'd we get here?" I turned away from the window towards the library area. It was warn down, tattered like it hasn't been used for years. The wintry mix intermingled with a dull rusting smell to create something shy of eerie. Sweetie Belle scrunched her nose in disgust. It was starting to freeze-when did it get so cold?

"I'm not sure, we were back at the--" Sweetie Belle stepped back before answering, she was starting to shiver now because of the cold. "Pick Pocket's gone-disappeared!" I twirled around for a quick examination. That's not right, she was with us just a moment ago. She can't suddenly disappear. I step forward towards the shelves more. The shelves were filled with webs and the like-the books are ransacked and many were gone. Maybe they disappeared after it went out of business?

"There are rats..everywhere.." Sweetie Belle made a face. "That's probably why nopony's here anymore." I shook my head.

"They haven't seen a pony for a while," I conclude. "I've never seen rats act like this, at least, not the ones in Ponyville." They scurried away from us before they went back to work. It was as if they just think of us as obstacles in the way. Sweetie Belle led the way, peeking through a door way. I followed suit, kicking a heavy book away in the process. It wasn't worth the time.

"What's ahead?" I trot to her carefully before she answered. "Well?" Sweetie Belle pointed towards something-a cafe? I was sure it was a lounge or cafe of sort. It wasn't weird-I heard all these libraries have that now.

"Its collected so much dust! I think the spiders created a home here."Sweetie's voice trickled with curiosity. She wiped away the webs and lit the room. Yep, a lounge. Nothing out the ordinary other than the typical Manehatten lounges I've seen previously during the investigation.

"We have to leave, find shelter or something. Its getting colder by the minute," I trot closer but found nothing of worth.I sigh, still no reason why we're here. I move towards the-

"ACK!" I started to fall. To stop myself, I bit and pulled something down. Sweetie Belle ran down to me, her eyes huge as if I came upon a discovery. "What's got you?" I turn slowly to see where her eyes traced. I must have pulled what the owner originally had used. The room, after all, changed itself. It still must have magic properties. There, instead, had laid a beautiful theater and dressing room, all almost new looking. The stage was grand, fit for a performance with chairs to boot. It was something I only imagined rich Canterlot ponies had done.

"Did you just do that on purpose?" She mouthed, awed. I shook my head.

"I didn't expect that myself!" I didn't think there were things like that around anymore. My eyes drifted towards the carpet. It was a beautiful black that was untouched by dirty hooves. Well, almost untouched. There was a red turning brown pigment that made a path on the carpet in on singular area. I walk over to inspect the area. "Its rust smelling, it must be blood. Its fresh as well." Sweetie Belle started shivering, trembling as she lifted my head up from the area.

"Apple Bloom, look!" My jaw nearly dropped. There stood Pick Pocket, her red mane unnaturally flat, something the orange unicorn took pride in taking care of. Her eyes gave off a vacant look as she smiled towards us. She wasn't Pick Pocket, there was no way she could be.

"Your here, I've been waiting." She announced, her magic surging through in waves. It danced in the air as they illuminated her figure as she danced her way to us. With a few twirls and spins, she came with a stunning landing that ended the magic."To see the look of your stunned faces amazes me. Did you not think I had that in me?"

"N-No, I mean--" Sweetie hushed me.

"We didn't expect that from you." She answered. Pick twirled as her magic acted like mist, she's boasting her flexibility by now. "Are you okay?" I glanced at Sweetie, this isn't okay. She's a lawyer, not a dancer.

"Your not acting right, you were afraid the last time we spotted you," I glare accusingly. "What's this sick joke your playing?" Pick blew out as she placed a hoof on my chin and batted her eyes.

"Dear, I'm sorry, but the show is about to begin." She smiles as she turns, waving her hoof off at us. "I don't have time to answer that, pity, right?"

"What..performance?" Sweetie Belle's voice faltered. My stomach lurches. I don't like where this is leading at all. She stepped away from her advances as Pick gives her a twisted grin as a response. "Nopony's here..."

"Oh, silly filly!" Pick twisted around, her eyes suddenly dolled up, stitched together to look like she was wearing eyeliner. Her vacant eyes were still apparent as she glared. She shifted and her body morphed, changing into something more dead than alive. Her hair was flatter, like string, as she spoke and her cheeks gave off a bright pink glow that looked painted on in blood. She was much thinner, regal in appearance and had stitches decorating her body where the joints and the rest connected. Her mouth barred the most stitches though. "YOUR the performers! Classic huh?" She was on her hind legs as she gave off her magic, pulling us into the last room.

The dresses flung themselves off the rack as 'Pick' was at the center, flinging them like weapons at us to draw us in. Sweetie Belle shot at a dress before being consumed in a pile. I didn't last long either. Having neither wings or magic, it was only time. I braced myself for it. The feeling of needles drilled into me was excruciating. My eyes drop as the darkness engulfs me fully.

Sccccreeeeeeeeeeee

"GAH!" Springing up with incredible speed, I turn to my side to look towards Sweetie. The pain from before wasn't gone but it dulled down enough to ignore. "Weren't we about to be killed?" Sweetie groans before answering me. The smell of decay, shit, blood, and unmentionables filled my nose in a welcoming embrace. Eck.

"Yeah, where are we?" Sweetie asked, astonished. "I can't believe I'm not de-OUCH!" She rubbed her sides as I shrug as an answer. How would I know? I scanned once more, only seeing darkness as a result. When sound came, it was unexpected. Horseshoes clattered as a pony was coming forward. They pause before coming closer again.

"Who are you?! DEMI?!" I screamed towards the pony in question. A memory pops up as my eyes widen. Pick was warning us. We just never listened."SHOW YOURSELF! I KNOW IT WAS YOU!"

"Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, is that you?" There stood Scootaloo leaning down, her muzzle touching mine in the process. That moment I realized I never leaped on a pony that fast and hard to greet them in my life.

Author's Note

I love the idea of a dramatic arts pony. What do you think?