The Wither Effect

by I_Wish_For_Pudding

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Tragedy, Dark, Sad
Length: 1969

Apple Bloom finds a darkly-colored skeleton in the Everfree, and soon after needs to say her last words.

Apple Bloom had been warned. "Don't go into the Everfree Forest, Apple Bloom." All the time. She had ignored it.
But she didn't deserve this.
_____________________________________________________________

Contains rather… graphic material, including small fillies rotting alive. Oh, and subtle Scootabloom/ Appleoo.
Wither Skeletons are from Minecraft, which is copyright Mojang, hence the crossover tag.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-22 04:00:15 UTC

Prologue: Everfree

  Apple Bloom tugged off the red cape that formerly rested upon her shoulders, clamping her mouth upon the silky fabric and pulling it away from her body. She walked over to Scootaloo, who was standing near her, and draped it over her shoulders.

  "Here," said the little yellow filly. "Ah don't wanna rip it 'r lose it. Ya'll're gun' stay safe, alright?" With that, she delivered a peck to Scootaloo's cheek, causing the orange pegasus to blush.

  "We should be telling you to be safe, instead," Said Sweetie Belle, obviously nervous, if not slightly embarrassed. She motioned towards the Everfree Forest with her hoof, then at Apple Bloom with it. "You know... since you're going... um, there." She paused, looked around, and leaned in towards the small yellow earth pony.

  "You aren't," whispered the small, animate, horned marshmallow shakily through clenched teeth, "supposed to go there. It's dangerous." She put a squeaky emphasis on the word "dangerous" that could possibly cause the everyday brony to drop dead of diabeetus.

  Apple Bloom laughed, oblivious to the fact that Sweetie Belle was concerned beyond what seemed possible for a robot. "Ah'll be alrigh', sugarcube." She had taken after her sister in that manner, calling her friends "sugarcube". Scootaloo was occasionally labeled as "sweetheart", though, as a sign of a... slightly more affectionate mood being pointed towards her. It was nothing, really, just the occasional peck on the cheek, short-term blush, and stare. Sweetie Belle was wise enough to leave herself out of it.

  "Ah'm gonna get goin', now," informed Apple Bloom, smirking. "Bye, girls."

  "Goodbye, Apple Bloom," murmured Scootaloo in a tiny voice, face still flushed red from the kiss delivered by Bloom. "Be safe for us." AB just smiled and winked.

  "Ah'll try."

  With that, she turned and trotted into the dark, damp forest and didn't look back.

_____----///||*||\----_____

Apple Bloom stood, shaking. She had mentally kicked herself hard in the face for submerging herself in this terrific place, but that wasn't enough. Fear crept over her, swallowing her. Shivers ran up and down her spine, as if the fear was traffic and her skeletal frame was a bumpy road. A shadow fell over her, belonging to the strangest and most fearful, foul-looking creature she had ever seen.

  It was the color of a changeling, but more gray and dull. It stood tall over her. It had long, lanky arms and legs, tipped with razor-sharp-looking, long claws. It stood upright. It had no wings whatsoever. Where its eyes should have been, there were just empty, black sockets. It had one paper-thin layer of skin covering its dark gray bone structure.

  It looked like a skeleton.

  It was a skeleton.

  But there AB stood, trembling in fear, stuck to the spot. Her hooves refused to move. She couldn't close her eyes, could barely blink or move her eyelids. She stared, stared...

  And then she broke into a shaky, maniacal smile.

  "H-howdy there, li'l... critter!" She said to it, her voice cracking, betraying her. "Y-y'all... ya look l-like ya need a mite bit o' f-food..." She snickered, trying to be good-humored. The laugh

  The thing said nothing, but edged towards her, its mouth slightly open. Apple Bloom could smell it. It smelled of rot, death, gasoline. Her nose scrunched up and she twitched rapidly.

  Apple Bloom twitched once more, hiccoughed, and broke into an insane, shaky cackle. "Ha! Ha ha... y-y... ya'll're funny, mister- whuhuhuAGAHHH!!!!"

  The thing had reached out a finger, slowly creeping towards the butter-yellow filly's face. Its arm extended outwards.

  Bloom's smile became even shakier. Her lips twitched and her bones were rattling beneath her flesh. Her knees buckled beneath her.

  She let out a crazy, high-pitched giggle as the bony, cold claw reached further towards her. Her hooves were locked to the ground beneath her. Cold sweat dribbled through her fur and her forehead heated up immensely. Her breathing became labored. Her heart palpitated, knocking against her ribs, and she thought she was going to faint.

This is it, she thought. This is the end. It's all over now... All over... Her smile got wider with every inch closer the talon came to touching her.

The talon-like finger stopped just about one inch from her muzzle. She gasped, then clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, prepared for the worst...

  And the ice-cold finger booped her nose, leaving a darkly-colored mark.

  It seemed like an hour, although it was only about a second, that the freezing-cold object was pressing hard against the tip of the redhead's muzzle. The tip of her nose was too numb for her to feel the bone finger lift, to feel the pressure cease.

  Apple Bloom felt a mixture of nausea vertigo wash over her, and- drenched in cold sweat- she twirled around and fell to the ground with a thud.

  By the time Applejack found her, the mark that the being's finger had left on Apple Bloom's skin, like an ink blot at first, had spread- now covering her face, neck, and forelegs- and was still spreading.

  The small, butter-yellow filly was barely breathing.

Withering Away

  Two months.

  It had been two months.

  Why didn't she run? Why? Was it fate? It couldn't have been, she didn't yet have her cutie mark. Not that it would make any difference. She was dying. Death was creeping towards her. It was inevitable.

  There was no cure.

  In fact, she wished that death would come faster.

  Her little-remaining flesh was dark gray, red in some places where it had just started to rash. The rashes didn't itch or hurt, they burned. They felt as if she were being stabbed by a knife and left to rot. The red patches of furless skin would tear and blister and rip, peel themselves off of Apple Bloom's muscles in a slow rolling motion. The skin in those places would turn soft, mushy, useless, like apples left in mud after a long, harsh rainstorm. If it managed to cling onto the flesh by a fiber or two, it would stay attached until the strands of solid flesh rotted away. Then it would fall off.

  And the dark would spread.

  Apple Bloom could feel the rot spread through her bones, crackling as it slowly ate away at the marrow, dissolving it, as it crawled forward, unstoppable. It would harden and thin the bones until they were more brittle than bird's limbs. It ached; it was as if her bones were being squeezed by some sort of dark magic.

  Which was what it probably was. Dark magic.

  Cureless, aching pain, rendering her muscles, nerves and bones utterly useless. Eating her alive.

  Making her wither away.

  Somepony spoke to her: "Apple Bloom, yer friends're here!" Probably her sister. She didn't care much for Applejack anymore; ever since she started dying she could see right through bullshit and that sickly sweet, 'tarnal optimism. For instance, Apple Bloom could almost smell the dishonesty dribbling from her sister's apple-eating, retarded mouth when she claimed that "she'd always be there" for her. It smelt of rotten fruit. It disgusted her, appalled her.

  But her friends were here just now, right when her internal organs were stinging, burning like fire, aching as if- wait, they were rotting, but still. Now? When she was just about to die? Never before? Who the hell did they think they were, little assholes?

  Well, they were here now. None the matter. As they entered the dusty room, smelling of carrion, Apple Bloom felt a twinge of despair, anger, depression, all packed together like a compressed explosive about to burst, amongst her sea of fake, sickly-sweet happiness.

  "Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo's voice was bold and shaky at the same time.

  "Girls!" exclaimed Bloom, voice sounding like grating metal, full of mushy pleasure. A large patch of skin curled upwards with a sickening "rriiiiiip". "I knew y'all'd come!" Her bones crackled and shook. It would be over soon. Her false friends would see what they had done by not stopping her.

  Her two fellow crusaders looked at her.

  Stared. Stared. Stared.

  And then they burst into tears.

  Apple Bloom had to stop herself from rolling her eyes and/ or bursting into laughter. "What's wrong?" she croaked, pretending to be unaware of the fact that she was dying.

  Sweetie Belle looked up, sniffling. "W-we... I... I'm sorry, Apple B-Bloom..." Another choked sob. AB would've winced if she could've... No, no, just a coincidence. That little fluffy marshmallow was just so pathetic. She didn't ask the question, that "Why are you sorry". Her throat was starting to burn, as well. Almost over. Almost over. Oh, how happy they'd be without her, continuing on their lost-cause cutie mark search. They'd probably replace her with that pathetic, sniveling foal, the unicorn foster daughter of that dumb-ass bi-

  "We're s-sorry... it's all our faults..." A sniff. "We sh-should've s-stopped you..." Apple Bloom felt her heart ache... but maybe it was just the rot. It didn't sting, though, nor did it burn. It was a deep ache, hard and painful. Yes, you should've, she thought. You just realized that, little daughter-of-Winona...

  But her heart tugged against it.

  And then there was silence. Apple Bloom's muscles twitched. Her body was surrendering to the dark magic. For once, she didn't want it to. Her blood blackened, burned through her veins, dissolved them. It wouldn't be long, but Apple Bloom now had a reason to live. She always had, but she'd just realized it.

  The sounds that came out of Scootaloo were muffled, but Bloom could hear them through the static of her slowly-dying ears, and the words they formed made her want to keep her eyes open forever.

  "We love you. I love you." Scootaloo's voice was warm, but it shuddered like a cold filly.

  Scoots leaned in towards AB slowly. She stared at the dying pony, stared, thrust her head forward, and let her lips meet the rotting half-corpse's. The kiss was long-lasting, warm, full. Apple Bloom returned it as well as she could. It was awkward, but...

  Their lips left each other, and the orange pegasus thrust her forelegs around Apple Bloom, bursting into tears.

  "Don't leave us, please don't leave us..." Choked sobs, shaky wailing. "I love you, Apple Bloom! You mean everything! Everything!! I love you.... love you..."

  AB's memory swirled, shook, raced back, back to that one Saturday, even though it hurt, playing it backwards in her mind... before she walked out into the forest, not looking back...

  "Ah'll try."

  And then a wave of happiness, real happiness, flooded over the small, once-yellow filly. The first that she'd gotten in two full months.

  These were her friends. They were here for her now.

  The darkness was falling over her. She couldn't hold it off or make a barrier. She felt her muscles cramp, stretch, disintegrate. Her remaining skin bubbled and fell, popping like soda candy introduced to wetness on her deathbed.

  "I-I love ya'll too." Her voice was grating, rough, sandpapery.

  She closed her eyes, smiled, and sighed contentedly.

  The darkness covered her, eclipsed her. Her last sensation was that of her heart frozen solid as it was eaten away at slowly and liquidized. A small tear, part saltwater, part dark blood, dripped down from her half-gone tear duct, slipping through the riddled maze of rotten skin and crack-riddled bones that was once Apple Bloom's face, using its own material as fuel, leaving it behind.

  "Apple Bloom?"

  There was no feeling at the scene but a deep, aching depression and a hanging, heavy sense of loss.

  Nothing was left of the small earth pony but dull-gray, brittle bones and a large, pink bow in a pile of rotted flesh, disintegrated solid blood, and thin, fair ash.

  The light clicked off.

  All was dark.