Bats in the Old Apple Barn

by adcoon

Rating: teen
Tags: Scootaloo, Random, Slice of Life, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Other
Length: 5476

Apple Bloom is home alone on Nightmare Night and invites her two best friends over. They each tell a scary story about bat ponies, but one of these stories may just turn out to be a little too scary, and a little too real.

Apple Bloom is home alone on Nightmare Night and invites her two best friends over. They each tell a scary story about bat ponies, but one of these stories may just turn out to be a little too scary, and a little too real.

Published 2013-10-31 18:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-31 18:00:02 UTC

Alone on the Farm

Candy spilled out onto the table from three bulging bags, cascading down the pile in tiny avalanches and rivulets. The warm light of flames in the fireplace played in the wrappings, turning the night’s spoils to glittering gold, like a dragon’s treasured hoard. Scootaloo shook the last bag and threw it carelessly over the back of the armchair behind her. It landed, presumably, somewhere on the floor.

“This is so sweet!” The young pegasus, still wearing the leathery wings and plastic fangs of her bat pony costume, dug both hooves deep into the mountain of gilded wrappings.

“Well, it is candy.” Sweetie Belle, a ghostly white filly, plopped herself down into Granny Smith’s creaky old rocking chair and pulled the thick, woolen blanket over her hind legs to get comfortable.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Duh! You know what I mean. Just look at this haul!” She unwrapped a pair of cherry-filled chocolates and stuffed them both in her mouth. She turned, face full of chocolate, as Apple Bloom returned from the kitchen. “I can’t believe Applejack let you stay here all on your own on Nightmare Night while they’re all away.”

“I told ‘em I’d be fine—” Apple Bloom set down three cups, a pitcher of hot cocoa, and a bag of marshmallows on the table, pushing aside some of the candy to make room. She dropped her pointy, black hat beside the chair and ran a hoof through her long, messy mane full of cobwebs. “—and that you two would be here with me too.”

“Wow, it’s like they don’t even know us.” Scootaloo sat down on the edge of the chair so that she could easily reach the table and its bounty of sweets.

Sweetie Belle accepted the cup of cocoa Apple Bloom poured for her. “Rarity would never let me be alone with you three for a whole night.”

Apple Bloom grinned as she poured a cup for Scootaloo and herself. “I said I’d get my cutie mark for not eatin’ myself sick with candy or burnin’ down the farm.”

Scootaloo took her cup and looked at Apple Bloom askance. “And that worked?”

“Not really. But I’m old enough now, even if I ain’t got my cutie mark yet, and Granny said it’s a good chance for me to prove that I can be on my own. Applejack would’ve said no, but she’s always listened to Granny.” Apple Bloom sat down in the last chair around the table by the fire. “I’m surprised your parents let you stay here.”

“Dad just says kids will be kids, and mom always trusted me to be on my own.” Sweetie Belle said into her cup. “It’s only Rarity who worries about me every minute.”

Scootaloo leaned back in her chair. “I forgot to mention that we’d be alone.”

They all sat around the fire, sipping their cocoa and listening to the wind in the apple trees outside for a few minutes. Sweetie Belle looked up from a sip of her cup and broke the silence as the first. “What should we do now?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both looked thoughtful. After a while of ponderously tapping her chin, Scootaloo looked up suddenly. “Oh, did you meet Princess Luna’s bat guards earlier?”

Sweetie Belle shuddered and glanced at Scootaloo’s costume for a reminder. “They always seem to be watching you, no matter where you stand, and they never say anything.”

Apple Bloom nodded knowingly. “I’ve heard they don’t need to see you, because they can hear you whisper a mile away, and they can tell exactly where you are just by the beatin’ of your heart. That’s why they’re so good at bein’ guards.”

“Whoa!” Scootaloo’s eyes widened at this awesome fact. She looked over her shoulder at the window and the shadows of the room. “I heard this story once.” She looked back at her two friends, catching their attentive gazes. “But I have to warn you that this tale could really scare you!”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked at each other and grinned, inching closer to the edge of their chairs as they waited for their friend to begin the story.

Scootaloo leaned closer too, whispering across the table as the misty clouds of her hot drink shrouded her face. “This tale is very old. It’s been known since ancient times, back when the world was dark and full of danger, before the princesses ruled and before Equestria was named, but very few ponies now know it or dare to tell it …”

Barbastella

“Long ago, on a mountain deep within the southern deserts of San Palomino, there lived a mare with the black wings of a bat and eyes like thin slits of silver.” Scootaloo looked between her two friends as she spoke, keeping their gazes upon her. “Ponies came to her from far and wide, traveling across desert and climbing up steep mountains with their newborns to see her. They would bring her fine gifts and many riches of gold and silver, gems, and great pieces of art.

“The mare with the bat wings would ask them if they knew her name, and they would shake their heads and offer her more gold and riches, all the wealth they could afford, or sometimes more. The mare would close her tired eyes, caring nothing for all the gifts, and then she would look at the foal they brought, and she would speak its name and fate.

“Many years went by. The riches grew to cover the mountain in gold and gems. A great empire arose around its base, growing rich and powerful on the soothsaying of the mare and the wealth the ponies brought her. And the mare, she cared nothing for it all. She knew every name of every pony, for she had given them the names herself, yet no pony had ever given her a name of her own.”

“How mean.” Apple Bloom sipped her cocoa. “Why didn’t anypony just give her a name?”

Scootaloo smiled. “Because,” she said slowly, “everypony knew that if anypony ever gave the mare a name of her own, she would never again do the same to another. As long as she had no name of her own, she had no choice but to speak the names of others. So they paid her in wealth instead, and the wealth grew and fed the greedy empire below.

“Then one day a young couple came to the mountain from distant lands, carrying their foal with them. They scaled the mountain and lay their wealth before the soothsayer, asking her to speak their foal’s name and fate, just like everypony else had done for ages before.

“The soothsayer looked up with eyes weary from age and asked the couple if they knew her name, just like she had asked every other mother and father for longer than anypony could remember. The mother opened her mouth to say that, no, she didn’t know the mare’s name. Just then the young babe turned in its father’s grasp and looked at the ancient mare with the bat wings, and the foal smiled as it pointed at the soothsayer and babbled its first word.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle sat at the edge of their chairs, staring at Scootaloo. “W-what happened next?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“The soothsayer repeated the word the child had babbled.” Scootaloo grinned. “Then she stood up and grinned, smiling for the first time. She laughed, and as she laughed she turned to ashes which was blown out the window and over the desert upon a breeze.

“Ever since,” Scootaloo continued in a lower tone, leaning back in her chair with a serious expression, “ponies have had to find their own names and discover their own fates. But some say that the soothsayer still rides the wind, listening and waiting for somepony to whisper her name.”

“W-what happens when she hears her name?” Apple Bloom shivered.

“Then she comes,” Scootaloo whispered, looking between them, “to take your name away, to leave you nameless and forgotten. For every name she ever gave, now she haunts the wind to take one back.”

“But nopony knows knows her name, right?” Sweetie Belle looked hopeful. “It must have been forgotten long ago.”

“Oh yes.” Scootaloo smiled as she leaned forward again. “But that’s just it, you see. Her name could be anything, and you won’t even know you’ve said it until she comes for you. Maybe it was something simple like Silver Fate or Black Wings.”

“If it was the foal’s first word …” Apple Bloom whispered, staring at Scootaloo.

Scootaloo smirked. “Yeah, then it probably would be something a foal would say, like Nana or … Baba. Perhaps the foal looked up at the old soothsayer, and when she saw the stars in her mane she smiled and said, ‘Baba, stella!’ Look dad, stars!”

Her two friends gasped and held their breaths, looking around the room. Outside the wind howled in the trees, and the old barn creaked ominously.

Scootaloo looked around before giving a shrug and opened her mouth to say something.

“Scootalooooooo …”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both screamed as the creaky old voice called out the name of their friend. Apple Bloom pressed herself far back into her chair, while Sweetie Belle hid her head beneath her blanket.

Scootaloo tensed and turned around slowly, eyes wide.

Her face twisted slightly before she broke out laughing, falling back into her chair and holding her tummy. “Oh …” She tried to catch her breath. “You should have seen your faces!”

Sweetie Belle peeked out from under her blanket. “But … that voice?”

Scootaloo wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Scootaloooooo …”

She snickered and sat up straight again. “Rainbow Dash told me the story, and she taught me how to make the voice too. It’s pretty hard, but I’ve practiced a lot. I’ve waited forever for a chance to use it.” She picked up a gold-wrapped sweet and popped it in her mouth. “What d’you think?”

Apple Bloom emerged from the pillows of her chair and took a deep breath, still eying the room. “That was really scary, Scootaloo.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed.

“I warned you.” They each sipped their cocoa and dug through the pile of candy on the table, picking among their favorites. Scootaloo licked the thick chocolate off her lips and muzzle. “So, how about you two? Think you’ve got any stories that can match mine?”

There was a moment of silence as both of them thought, then Sweetie Belle raised an eager hoof. “Ooh, ooh, I’ve got one. It’s really scary, too.”

The Gift of Blood

“You ever been to the Ponyville Hospital?”

“Duh! All the time!” Scootaloo grinned proudly at her dubious accomplishment. “Once, I tried this wicked cool trick on my scooter, and—”

“Scootaloo—”

“—right through the window of the house on the other side of the street and down the stairs—”

“Scoota—”

“—and there was like blood and splintered glass everywhere—”

“Scoot—”

“—seen. I was as red as Big McIntosh when they rushed me to the hospital. Thirty three stitches, right here.” Scootaloo turned and pointed to her left flank. “It was so deep, you could see the bone!”

Apple Bloom grimaced at the gory description. “That’s, uh, great Scoots. But maybe you should let Sweetie Belle continue.”

“Oh, right.” Scootaloo sat back and grinned. “Sorry. It was sort of a scary story, though.”

Sweetie Belle looked queasy. “I remember that,” she said and sank a lump in her throat. “You lost a lot of blood and had to get a transfusion. We were all so worried.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo rubbed the back of her neck. “It wasn’t my best trick. Everypony was freaking out about it. It’s a good thing they could get blood of my type.”

“Lyra donated that, didn’t she?”

Scootaloo nodded. “Yeah. Apparently we both have a rare type or something.”

There was a moment of silence, then Sweetie Belle smiled and leaned forward to continue her tale. “Actually, it’s good that you brought this up, because I was just getting to that. A lot of ponies here in Ponyville donate blood. They have this list of ponies at the hospital who they can call when they need blood of a special type.”

“Both my big sis and my brother are on that list,” Apple Bloom said proudly.

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Some ponies donate regularly instead. My sister donates every two months. She’s done that for years. She says it’s to help all the ponies who get hurt or sick and need blood, but the Ponyville blood bank gets a lot of blood from regular donors, and there aren’t that many ponies here who need blood regularly, right?”

Apple Bloom bit her lip. “What is all that blood for, then?”

Sweetie Belle leaned closer, so that she could speak in a whisper. “There are some ponies who need a lot of blood. Because they drink it!”

Her two friends gasped, holding their hooves to their mouths.

“I’ve heard that the bat ponies used to hunt at night for other ponies. They would sneak in through open windows or old cracks in the roof while you were asleep. They would lean over you in your sleep, and they would drink your blood to satisfy their hunger. Sometimes they would drink all of it, and that pony would wake up as a bat pony and go out to hunt for blood too.”

Sweetie Belle looked at her two friends, drawing them even closer to the edge of their chairs as she spoke. “They especially like the blood of young fillies and mares. There used to be many more bat pony mares, because they were the ones who had once been normal ponies before the bat ponies drank all their blood, but these days you don’t see as many, and we can thank Princess Luna and the blood banks for that. You see, the princess, she promised the bat ponies that if they stopped hunting ponies and instead served in her guard, then the ponies of Equestria would provide them with blood in payment. So now the bat ponies don’t come in through windows at night to suck your blood, because they get it at the hospital.

“Except that, sometimes …” Sweetie Belle paused and held her breath before continuing. “Sometimes they get tired of what they can get from the hospital, they want it fresh from the neck of a young pony instead, or the hospital runs low and can’t give them enough, so they starve … and so they start hunting for young mares and fillies again.”

Silence fell over the old farm. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and the three ponies sat in their chairs, listening to the silence and looking around at the shadows of the room.

Apple Bloom looked at one of the windows uneasily. “Do you think—”

The wind howled outside, and something scraped against the window. All three fillies screamed in unison and hid under their blankets and pillows as the scraping sound came again. They lay there as silently and still as they could, listening for any sound. A minute passed, and nothing more was heard. The three fillies slowly emerged and looked around.

“T-that couldn’t have been …” Scootaloo looked to her friends for confirmation. “I mean, not really, right?”

Sweetie Belle hugged her blanket tightly. “It … it was probably just a branch.”

Apple Bloom nodded slowly and looked at the window. “Y-yeah, just a branch … I-I’m sure that’s what it was.”

“But … maybe we should check all the windows anyway.”

“Yeah …” Apple Bloom looked around the room and towards the stairs. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. Let’s … Let’s do that. Together.”

Gloomy Eyes

“There!” Apple Bloom stepped back down from the window and turned back to her two friends. “That was the last one.”

“Great.” Scootaloo looked around Granny Smith’s bedroom, lit up only by the three candles they had brought with them. The three flames created long, flickering shadows in the room. She shivered and backed out into the hall, turning around to head back down the stairs. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not afraid, are you?” Apple Bloom grinned and picked up her candle again as she followed, leaving the door to Granny’s room open as she and her two friends walked back down the stairs.

“Of course not,” Scootaloo protested, cheeks slightly red. “I was never really scared at all. I just … remembered all the candy waiting for me down here, that’s all.” She grinned and hurried over to her chair to stuff her face with more sweets.

“You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.” Apple Bloom grinned as well and threw herself back down into her chair. “I’ve got a tale for you, and if you thought the last two were scary, then you’re in for it now.”

Sweetie Belle sat down in Granny’s rocking chair and wrapped herself in the blanket again. “I don’t know, I don’t think anything can top those two.”

“Oh, this’ll top both of ‘em.” Apple Bloom grinned widely and rubbed her hooves together as she looked between her two eagerly waiting friends. “Did I ever tell you … that this farm is haunted?”

“What, no!” Sweetie Belle gasped and held her blanket up to cover her muzzle.

Apple Bloom slowly nodded. “Oh yes. For a hundred years, this place has been haunted by the vengeful ghost … of Gloomy Eyes!”

“Wait wait wait,” Scootaloo cut in. “I thought Granny Smith said her family built this farm before Ponyville was even founded. Granny’s not a hundred years old!”

“You’re right,” Apple Bloom said. “She ain’t. The ghost,” she paused to look at both of them in turn, “has been hauntin’ these grounds since before Ponyville, before the farm, and before our family came to this place to settle.

“Long ago a stone tower sat on this hill, at the edge of the forest. We ponies built it as a watchtower where guards could watch the forest and the lands around it, but over the years it was abandoned and ruined. Gloomy was a young bat pony then, and she found the tower just sittin’ there, weathered and unused. Since bat ponies love old, abandoned places where it’s dark and lonely, she thought it was the perfect place for her to live.

“Gloomy’s dream was to have a family, to have a very special somepony and a little foal of their own. But none of the other bat ponies liked Gloomy or wanted to be her special somepony because of her eyes, and because they all thought she was a little bit odd, and so she lived in that old, ruined tower all alone.

“One night, while out flyin’, she came near a village of ponies, and she saw a little pegasus filly in a cradle made of clouds, left upon the doorsteps of a house. Gloomy descended cautiously, knowin’ the reputation of her kind among regular ponies, and approached the orphan. When nopony was around and lookin’, Gloomy picked up the foal and hurried back home to her tower.

“Gloomy took the babe home and treated it like her very own child. Gloomy named the child Velvet Wish, and she fed her, taught her, and loved her. No pony knew that Velvet was missin’, because the child had been left but never found, except by Gloomy. And so Velvet grew up with Gloomy, becoming skilled in the ways of the bat ponies.

“Velvet loved her adoptive mother too, but she soon grew lonely in the old tower, with no friends other than Gloomy. One day, while her mother slept in the cold darkness of the tower, Velvet went out into the sunlit world to find other ponies her age. She found her way to a nearby village, perhaps the very same one where her mother had found her. But everypony could see that she was different, even a little bit odd, and it wasn’t long before the ponies of the village found out where she came from.

“The ponies of the village took Velvet away, wrapped a blindfold over her eyes so she couldn’t see where they took her, and carried her off into the skies to live among her own kind. Then they headed for the tower where the evil, filly-nappin’ bat pony lived. Gloomy escaped into the forest, but the ponies destroyed her home and crushed all her possessions, but worst of all, they had taken away her only child.

“Gloomy returned days later to the ruins of her home. She searched the villages for Velvet but never found her. Gloomy never gave up hope, even after years. She stayed in the old tower, alone and cold, hoping that one day Velvet would show up.

“Then one night, a terrible storm came out from the forest. Gloomy hid in her tower, huddled up alone and wet in the dark, thinking only of her lost daughter. The thunder roared, and lightning struck the tower. Gloomy didn’t make it out that night.”

“Some say that years later, Velvet finally found the old tower again. Now that she was a grown mare, she had left the clouds in search of that tower from her childhood, and the mother she remembered. But all she found were stones, scorched by lightning, and the bones of her mother.

“Velvet buried the bones here, at the base of the ruined tower, and made for her mother a grave. And here Gloomy has rested ever since, her spirit still wanderin’ the tower which stands no longer, still waitin’ for her beloved daughter to come and stay with her.

“Granny and her family later settled here and built their first house on top of the ruins. If you listen, on most nights, you can hear her wandering the house, waiting for her lost daughter to come home. And sometimes, when you wake up in the night and look around your empty room, you will see her standing there in the dark, watching you sleep.”

Apple Bloom paused in her tale, and looked at her two friends. None of them dared look around. After a moment, Sweetie Belle wiped an eye and looked at Apple Bloom. “That was so sad. Is … is it really true? Did all that really happen?”

Apple Bloom nodded solemnly. “One hundred years ago, on this very night, the ponies of the village took her daughter away and destroyed her home. Some say that on that night, after a hundred years, at the strike of midnight, she will come out and seek her revenge.”

The two fillies looked up at the massive grandfather clock behind Apple Bloom. The heavy pendulum swung back and forth steadily, ticking away the time until midnight. The hands on the clock showed five minutes to midnight.

A floorboard creaked somewhere above, on the second floor.

Scootaloo startled and looked towards the stairs, her body tense. “T-that was just the h-house creaking,” she said and laughed uncertainly. “Right?”

They sat in tense silence, all three staring at the stairs to the second floor and listening. None of them dared to move or look away from the stairs.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said after a while. “Just a—”

The sound of hoof steps on the second floor cut her off. They sounded slow and heavy, and unmistakable.

All three fillies tensed, staring with wide-eyed terror at the stairs.

The hoofsteps stopped, and a door creaked before closing with a soft click.

“A-are you sure Applejack or Big McIntosh didn’t stay at home after all?” Sweetie Belle whispered.

Apple Bloom sank a lump in her throat and nodded silently. “Not even Winona is here,” she whispered. “I-it’s just us three.”

“I-I’m not afraid!” Scootaloo’s voice cracked slightly as she looked at her friends. Her eyes betrayed her words, plainly showing her terror. “If … if there really is a ghost, then … then we can totally take it on! Right?”

“M-maybe it just needs a … a friend,” Sweetie Belle said.

“M-maybe,” Apple Bloom said, dragging out the word. “M-maybe we should go up there and … and look. Maybe it was just … um …”

“The wind?” Sweetie Belle suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“N-no, um, nevermind.” Apple Bloom slipped out of her chair and stood up stiffly. “C-come on. W-we have each other, remember? W-we’re three and … and it is just one.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at each other. Slowly they got up too and followed Apple Bloom as they picked up their candles and headed for the stairs.

Bats in the Old Apple Barn

Apple Bloom peeked around the corner at the end of the stairs and stood there breathlessly for a moment before stepping fully into the empty hall. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle followed close behind, holding their candles to light the darkness ahead. All the doors along the hall were closed. The door to Granny’s room loomed at the end, waiting for them.

Apple Bloom took a deep breath and walked slowly towards the door at the end. Her hooves clip-clopped softly against the wooden floor, and the boards creaked slightly with each step. None of them said a word as they approached the door. Apple Bloom stopped and looked back at her two friends, as if to make sure they were still with her.

They stood in the flickering light of the candles, breaths held as they listened to the silence and tried to gather enough courage to open the door. Apple Bloom reached out and placed her hoof on the handle, pushing it open as quickly and quietly as she could.

The door creaked as it swung open to the dark room beyond. The candlelight filled the room, revealing the empty bed and antique wooden furniture. Their pale faces stared back at them from the mirror on one of the walls, mouths open and eyes wide.

Apple Bloom stepped inside and looked around, letting the candle shine into every corner. She turned around to her friends and set the candle down on the chest of drawers by the door. “There’s nothin’ here.” Her voice did not rise above a whisper.

They turned slowly and looked down the hall at the doors, all the way to the stairs at the end which seemed so far away in the dark. Scootaloo gulped and walked up to the first door on the left. She hesitated a moment before pushing it open. The light from her candle lit up Big McIntosh’s room. “Nothing in here either,” she whispered and stepped inside to make sure. Sweetie Belle walked in close beside her.

A muffled cry sounded behind them, and something clattered against the wooden floor in the hall. They both choked back a scream and spun around.

“Apple Bloom!” Sweetie Belle called and hurried back out into the empty hall.

Scootaloo hurried into the hall and looked down at Apple Bloom’s candle on the floor where it had been dropped. Bits of hot wax was sprayed all over the floor and wall. There was no sign of Apple Bloom, and the door to Granny’s room was ajar, only the faint light of the moon and the shadow of the bed visible through the crack.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle walked closely together as they approached the door and pushed it open. The room on the other side was as empty as it had been before. “S-she was right behind us,” Scootaloo whispered, her voice shaking almost as much as her body.

“I don’t like this,” Sweetie Belle said and pressed herself closer to her friend, crying slightly. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Scootaloo admitted and draped a wing around Sweetie Belle’s shoulders. “B-but we have to save Apple Bloom!”

The floor of the hall creaked behind them, and a sudden wind blew out both their candles as the two fillies spun around and screamed at the darkness. The only light now came from the moon filtering through the window of the room behind them.

The floor of the hall creaked again. Heavy hooves against the wooden floor came towards them, one step at a time, and the pale moonlight reflected in a pair of eyes, their pupils narrow slits of gloomy, burning amber.

“D-don’t hurt us!” Sweetie Belle cried and backed into the room, pressing herself against the end of the bed.

Scootaloo stood in front of her friend, shaking with fright but unmoving, staring up into those gloomy orange eyes as they came closer.

“Hah!”

Scootaloo screamed and spun around, stumbling away as something clamped down on her shoulder in the dark. She fell over on her haunches, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

Somepony was laughing. A moment later a candle was lit, revealing Apple Bloom’s face. “You should see your faces right now!” she said and closed the door of the large wardrobe behind her with a light kick. She looked down at Sweetie Belle, who had passed out from fright by the side of the bed. “Oh dear. Did I overdo it?”

“A-a-a …” Scootaloo gasped for breath and turned to look at the hall. She nearly choked as a tall, dark figure appeared through the doorway, amber eyes and fanged smile greeting her. “A-a-aaah!” the filly screamed and scooted backwards against the wall.

“Aww, don’t be scared of Gloomy,” Apple Bloom said and stepped over to the bat pony peeking into the room. “She’s real friendly, and she’s been living in our attic for the last week now. I guess I lied a bit when I said I’d be home totally alone.”

“Hi,” the bat pony said cheerily and stepped fully into the room.

Scootaloo slowly caught her breath and glowered at Apple Bloom. “That was really mean, Apple Bloom!” She crawled over to help Sweetie Belle sit up.

“I told you it was a scary story.” Apple Bloom grinned, then looked at Sweetie Belle and bit her lip. “Although, perhaps it was a little too scary.”

“Sorry,” Gloomy said and looked down at her hooves.

“Don’t worry about it,” Apple Bloom said. “Maybe you can tell a story of your own? I bet you bat ponies know a lot of really scary stories.”

“No more stories!” Sweetie Belle’s sudden cry startled them all. “No more scary stories, please,” she repeated in a lower tone as she sat up.

“Alright, no more scary stories.” Apple Bloom grinned. “So does that mean I win?”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo looked at Gloomy, who was still standing in the doorway, looking slightly guilty. “Your story was definitely the scariest.”

“Yes!” Apple Bloom punched the air with a hoof and turned to inspect her flank. It was as blank as always. “Aww! What more could it take to get a scary story telling cutie mark?”

“Maybe we can tell each other happy stories instead?” Gloomy suggested and looked up brightly. “Wouldn’t that be a better cutie mark to have? I like happy stories!”

“That sounds great,” Scootaloo said and stood up, helping Sweetie Belle to stand as well. “And we still have plenty of candy to eat. Do you like candy?”

Gloomy grinned as she turned around and followed the three fillies back down the hall and down the stairs. “I love candy! Especially fruity gums. I just love those!”

“You, um, don’t drink … you know …” Sweetie Belle asked, looking uneasily at Gloomy’s fangs. “Blood?” she squeaked out the last word in a barely audible tone.

The bat pony stuck out her tongue and grimaced. “Eww, no! I’d rather have fruit.”

“Do you like marshmallows?” Apple Bloom asked as she found a fourth chair for Gloomy to sit in. The three fillies helped each other push the chair over to the fire.

“Marshmallows?” Gloomy looked curiously at the three. “I don’t think I’ve ever had marshmallows. Are they good?”

“Really?” Sweetie Belle stopped pushing the chair and looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve really never had marshmallows?”

Scootaloo grinned and grabbed a bag of the white, fluffy sweets. “You’re in for a treat, then! Come on!” She jumped into her chair and ripped the bag open, spilling several marshmallows over herself and the floor.

“Do you really live in the attic?” Sweetie asked as she pulled the rocking chair closer to the fire and sat down.

Gloomy nodded and sat down to watch as the three young ponies explained how to roast marshmallows, each one insisting on their own prefered way to eat them afterwards. Every now and then one of them would ask about her, or about bat ponies. Gloomy smiled and answered, thinking that this was much nicer than hiding in the dark and being scary.

Outside, the night was quiet, and nothing stirred.