It was a warm evening on Sweet Apple Acres, and Big Macintosh was resting on top of a hill, under an apple tree. Having finished most of his chores for the day, the stallion sat, silently staring at the sunset, lost in his thoughts.
It's a strange peculiarity of the farm. The passage of time, that is.
The daily routine, formed by years of habit, makes time fly by so quickly that the memories of several years blur together into a single indistinguishable mess. And yet, moments such as these seemed to stretch eternally.
But, as he knew, even these moments had to end, and as the sun slowly made its way down the sky to leave room for the night, Big Mac stood up and headed for the edge of the farm, near the Everfree Forest.
It was a few weeks ago that the apple trees that were closer to the Everfree started showing scratch marks and other signs of damage on their trunks. It’s not an unusual occurrence for wild animals to leave the forest and make a mess with a couple of trees from time to time, but it never was anything serious, or something that couldn’t be easily mended.
Yesterday, however, was the first time that one of the trees was uprooted.
Applejack had gone to check the trees for damage the previous morning when she found one of their prized apple trees torn from the ground. Its broken trunk lay next to the one next to it; several of its branches were intertwined with the other trees and its roots protruding haphazardly from the ground.
Needless to say, the family was pretty shocked by this turn of events. The animals of the Everfree were known for being mischievous and sometimes violent, but this was beyond anything that had ever happened. Not even Timberwolves were this fierce during Zap Apple season, according to Granny Smith's experience. Not even Miss Fluttershy, whom Applejack had gone to visit and to ask if any of her animal friends could have been responsible, had been able to identify who or what could be causing this. That alone plunged this whole situation deeper into the bizarre territory. She had, however, said that the animals that came to her for help and care were a lot worse for wear than usual, not to mention that they were much more nervous, too.
The animals at the farm were anxious as well, the pigs had made more than their usual mess, and the chickens hadn't laid any eggs lately. Daisy Jo and the other cows had been nervous too, but they were reluctant to talk about what bothered them, just mumbling something about the Everfree before going back to their routine.
As Big Mac found out later that day, the Apple family was the only one affected by this phenomenon. Golden Harvest hadn’t had any incidents on her farm, and while her animals were a bit nervous as well, it didn’t prove to be a problem. The same was true for the other farming families of Ponyville. Aside from some minor oddities, no one had experienced anything even remotely similar to what happened to the Apple’s orchard.
All in all, things were tense, and whatever animal or creature was doing this had to be stopped, before things at Sweet Apple Acres got worse.
Big Macintosh had tried to find a trail first thing in the morning, but whatever had been attacking the trees seemed to vanish just a few strides into the forest. The uneven consistency of the soil, coupled with the abundance of rocks and vines that covered the ground made it hard to discern a trail. So tonight Big Mac would hide in the orchard and wait for whatever animal out there that was responsible for this to come out. He eyed his saddlebag, which contained a medium sized plank of wood, weighing him on the side. He didn't mean to hurt whatever it was that attacked the apple trees, just scare it enough so it would leave the farm alone.
The large stallion sighed and kept trotting towards the edge of the field. Applejacks’ words still rang on his mind; they had a very lengthy discussion the previous night regarding the course of action they should take. AJ was very firm on her stance, she wanted them to go find this animal and put a stop to its rampage, but Big Mac had convinced her to let him go alone instead. After all, there was a chance that it was just another scared animal that wandered too far from the Everfree, and ganging up on it wouldn’t help matters. She had finally given in, and let her brother deal with the issue, on the condition that he’d turn back and ask for help if things got out of hoof.
Just as in the morning, Big Mac made his way to the section of the orchard that had been attacked last night. He stared, crestfallen, at the damaged tree. His sisters had already picked it clean of any apple that could be saved, and the small blooming lumps that were left behind hung sadly from its branches. It was, ultimately, a very sad image. Big Mac took pride in his trees; they were a labor of love and dedication, and seeing one of them in this state was downright depressing and it only served to further strengthen his resolve.
He got near a still standing tree and got comfortable. After removing his saddlebags and leaving them on the ground, he rummaged through them until he found a blanket that he threw over him and drew a flask from the bag. The creature may appear late into the night, or maybe not at all. Either way, Big Mac would just wait until it happened. He shuffled to make himself comfortable under the thick blanket and took a swig of cider from the flask.
The hours passed, and as the night got darker, and the flask got emptier, sleep began to take over Big Macintosh. He shook his head to remain awake, and glanced upwards. It was overcast tonight, and the dim moonlight that managed to filter through the thick clouds casted an otherworldly glow on the forest. He raised the flask to his lips, only to find it empty. With a grumble, he threw it inside his saddlebags and shifted under the blanket to reduce the growing ache on his back. Just as he did this, he heard a faint noise coming from the forest. He whipped his head and perked his ears to try to catch the source of the noise.
Everything remained quiet.
Big Mac had heard something; at least, he was sure he did. He closed his eyes and tried to hear the noise again, but it proved fruitless. He sighed and slumped on the ground. It was still early; no more than a couple of hours must have passed since the sun had set, so he wasn’t tired, it was the monotony of sitting and waiting in which he had been immersed that made his brain want to turn itself off. He wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him, trying to give him something to focus as to prevent him from dozing off to sleep. If that was the case, then he should call off the stakeout and go back home. Tonight had been quiet so far, and it would probably continue to be so, there was no guarantee that the animal would come back tonight, though the thought of losing another tree made him think twice about leaving. With a bit of reluctance, he sighed and shook the blanket off his back and stuffed it in his saddlebags.
That’s when he heard that sound again.
There was no mistake; Big Macintosh had clearly heard the distinctive noise caused by leaves being rustled. Slowly, he rose from the ground and put his saddlebags on his back, making sure the plank of wood remained hidden yet within reach. Carefully listening for the noise again, he made his way to the forest as quietly as he could. He dared not speak for fear of scaring the animal. And so, he headed for the uneven trail that ran deep through the Everfree and entered the forest.
He made his way across the path quietly, trying to find the source of movement. He stopped and perked his ears, searching for even the faintest trace of noise, which was made easier by the absence of other sounds in the forest. He did a double take once he realized this, for the silence in which he was plunged was far from normal. It was true that everything in the Everfree forest escaped explanation, but if one thing was constant, it was the cacophony of sounds that it emitted, except for tonight. No animals galloping in the distance, no birds hanging from vines and shaking bushes, not even the sound of insects buzzing and flying by. Nothing.
Before he could think more about this, a crackling sound from far ahead told him that his target was deeper into the forest. So the eldest of the Apple siblings steeled himself, and kept going. He wished that the night sky was clearer; the already faint light became even fainter once it had to go through the thick canopy as well as the clouds, thus submerging the forest in almost total darkness. Big Mac reprimanded himself for not bringing a lantern or at least a candle, and was wondering if he should keep going or turn back and go home when the sky suddenly lit up. This took him by surprise, but he managed to see a dark figure ahead of him between the trees in the split second of light. And just as it happened, the sky got dark again. Before he could finish processing what he had just seen, the sky roared with a thunder that made him flinch.
What was it that he saw? Was it the animal that he was looking for? It may have been, but he couldn’t be quite sure. He knew that it was ahead, but the flash of light had been too quick for him to fully recognise what that form in the trees was, but Big Mac wasn’t going to take any chances. He pushed forward, and towards the darkness.
Even though the forest was close to the orchard, Big Macintosh rarely ever came near it, and with good reason. He had to tread carefully not to trip over rocks or plants, and even then, he would still bump constantly due to the darkness and thickening mist. The large stallion didn’t feel as big in the increasing obscurity of the forest, and a part of him started to doubt his decision of coming alone. Before he could form any further thought, he heard a low hum-like noise. Stopping, he focused on the sound, trying to figure out what it was. Very faintly, and slowly, the low hum became a low growl.
His muscles tensed and he lifted his head to face the source of the noise. There was another lightning, and while the flash of light was, once again, too quick to properly make out the form of what was in front of him, it was long enough for him to realise two distinctive things about it. First of all, it was very large. Maybe not large as a bear, but it was much taller than Big Macintosh and it was definitely not a Timberwolf, for in those brief seconds of light, he also saw a very dark flesh against the trees.
And he could see it coming closer.
His quiet yelp was drowned by the deafening thunder, and yet he managed not to flinch. The growl kept increasing in intensity, but Big Macintosh stood his ground, ignoring the tingling sensation running through his spine. He could barely make out the dim outline of a creature in the darkness, but he could see that it was still approaching him. His front hoof went to his saddlebag and grabbed the plank of wood, but didn’t take it out yet. He waited for it to come closer.
But then, he felt something drip on his shoulder, then his back, his mane and then the rest of his body, and his already tensed muscles tensed even more. The pegasi made sure that the weather was calm and clear, but the Everfree had its own rules, and as the rain started to pour on him, reducing his already low visibility, he felt the creature just a few strides ahead of him, and getting closer.
At this point, he noticed something else. Even though the growl was still very low, it clearly let on something about it. It was charged with rage. He had heard it before, on the occasion in which that Ursa had come to town. It was anger; it may even have had a hint of malice in it. In that moment, Big Macintosh realised that this wasn’t a scared or wounded animal that got lost and wandered off the forest. It was a predator, and it was getting nearer with each passing second.
Big Mac had always considered himself a calm and even-minded pony, and having to deal with his little sister for eight years had made him learn to be patient. But whether it had been the increasing darkness, the heavy rain, or the growing sense of dread produced by the closing creature, something made him lose his temper.
With all the strength and speed he could muster, he took the plank of wood and swung it wildly in front of him, and was able to connect a hit on the first strike, and while the following roar was nowhere near as loud as the thunders that accompanied the storm that ravaged above them, it managed to shake Big Mac to the core.
The plank of wood in his hoof had broken, and the other piece was lying on the ground a few meters away from him. Recovering quickly, he threw the now useless piece of wood and dug his hooves into the ground, ready to face the creature. He lifted his head and glared ahead, only to be shocked by the sight in front of him.
There was nothing there, and even in the darkness Big Mac could see that there was nothing there, although he was sure there’s where the thing had just been a few seconds before. His mouth hung agape, before snapping back to attention, searching for the location of the creature.
The rain kept falling all around him, making it much harder for him to pay attention to his surroundings. He took a few paces forward, trying to hear something over the loud noise of water hitting the ground. Everything seemed… almost normal. Trees, rocks, vines, some out of place flower. And yet, Big Mac just couldn’t shake off the feeling of anxiety growing inside of him. He sighed and thought about going back home. His mane and shoulders already felt damp, and he wanted nothing more than a hot shower and— His heart skipped a beat.
The rain was still falling over his head and shoulders, but he couldn’t feel the raindrops on his hind legs. He was frozen in place, he wanted to turn back, but his body wouldn’t let them. It wouldn’t let him face what was behind him.
Then he heard the growl again.
He didn’t think, couldn’t think. He just ran. He ran as fast as he could, doing his best to avoid rocks or roots growing out of the ground. His hooves sank on the wet soil, slowing him down. Nevertheless, he kept running.
He whipped his head left and right, trying to find any familiar sight that would give him any indication of his whereabouts, when he found none, a chill went down his back. In his distress, he hadn’t realised which direction he had taken, he just wanted to get away from the creature that, if the noises behind him were any indication, was still chasing him.
Big Mac kept pushing himself, straining his body to the limit, trying to put as much distance between him and the creature as possible. He wasn’t sure how long he had been running, but his sides were starting to ache.
He didn’t dare turning left or right for fear of letting the thing catch up to him, but he didn’t want to get even deeper into the Everfree, because he knew that would mean a death sentence. He just didn’t know what to do. He had already strayed too far into the forest, even if he found a way out, it would be into the open fields behind Ponyville, where he had no chance of hiding. He could only keep running forward, and hope that the creature would lose track of him.
Big Macintosh shook these thoughts from his mind, but not in time to notice the protruding rock that was in the middle of the path. He gasped and crashed into the ground. His left leg was hurt; not too badly, but it would certainly make things difficult for him. He then heard something bumping against the trees. He had to keep going, he had to make it. Carefully, yet hurriedly, he stood up, and began galloping again.
The creature was starting to close the distance between them quickly; meanwhile, he was slowing down. His hurt leg was starting to give out; adrenaline would only take him so far. He couldn’t keep running for much longer, he needed to catch his breath, otherwise he would collapse. A glimmer of hope appeared in the shape of a patch of bushes just ahead of him. Without thinking, he jumped and dove in them.
He shifted and turned his head forward, back to the way he had come, trying see if he had lost the animal. For a second, he only heard the noise of raindrops hitting the ground, but heavy steps soon followed it. He contracted his body, doing his best to remain quiet, and hoping that the being would get tired and leave. So he lied there, waiting.
It's a strange peculiarity of the Everfree forest as well. The passage of time, that is.
The last hour had gone by in a flash, but right now, as Big Mac was crouching between the thick bushes, with mud covering most of his coat and mane, and doing his best to hear and not be heard, time passed in a gruelingly slow manner. The heavy downpour seemed enough to mask his jagged, raspy breathing, but in turn it prevented him from pinpointing the location of the nearby creature, but he knew that what was truly preventing the being from finding him was the mist, which had begun to fade, probably due to the rain. He grew nervous, he had to find this thing, distract it somehow, find a way out of the forest, away from this creature, this monster, and get back to the farm.
He thought he may have seen movement on the edge of his vision, but it was gone as soon as he turned his head. Big Mac took a deep breath to calm his nerves; the protection of the mist wouldn’t last much longer, so he had to think fast.
He then remembered his empty flask, still inside of his saddlebags. It was a long shot, but if he threw it against something hard, it may make enough noise to serve as a distraction. He gulped, and moved his hoof slowly towards his left bag, being careful to make as little noise as possible. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to notice any hint of movement. He unclasped the bag and rummaged through it until his hoof felt the cold steel. He smiled as he removed the flask and brought it close to his face.
Big Mac looked around one more time, and managed to see something move just a few meters to his right. He couldn’t keep waiting, it was now or never. So he rose a bit from the ground and got ready to fling the empty metal container towards the darkness.
And then another lightning lit up the sky.
He saw the creature. And the creature saw him. Those few seconds of light were more than enough for the monster to see the stallion rising from under the bushes, holding the shiny piece of metal. They stood immobile for a second before the creature roared in rage; and even though it was drowned by the thunder, it still shook Big Mac through every bone. His resolution fade, and fear overtook him as he saw the anger in the monster’s eyes. He had lost his chance, and now he had only one option left. So he took it.
He ran.
He pushed his already sore and hurt muscles and ran. He ran as fast as his body would let him, and then some more. Each stride sent jolts of pain through his leg but he kept going. He didn’t know where he was going, but he no longer cared. Fear kept him running.
Tears begun to run down his cheeks, he knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Even if he managed to find another hiding spot, he was in no condition to run again. This... thing would eventually catch up to him. And then, who knows what would happen to him.
He thought of his family. He thought of Granny Smith, and how badly she would take the news of her only grandson disappearing in the forest; he thought of Applejack, blaming herself for not coming with him and having to carry the farm on her shoulders; he thought of Apple Bloom, growing up without her big brother.
And he thought of the monster, coming for his family after he was gone.
No. He wouldn’t give up. He wasn’t let them down; Big Mac wasn’t going to abandon his family. He was going to return home to them and he would put all of this behind him and they would all move on with their lives. He felt the monster getting closer, now only a couple of meters behind him.
He made a decision. No matter what, he was going to make it out of the forest. And he was going to make it out alive. He stopped abruptly, his front hooves dug deep into the mud. He perked up his ears to hear the thing getting closer, leaned forward and waited. Once he heard the monster right behind him, he jumped, and gave a powerful yell as he bucked the creature with all the strength left on his body.
*CRACK*
The pained roar that followed the blow was far louder, and far more unsettling than the thunders, and the blunt force that in turn hit him on the ribs took out the air from his lungs and threw him to side. He writhed in pain on the muddy soil, but he could hear the heavy strides bolting in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest.
Big Mac kept lying there, taking slow, deep breaths, and trying not to lose consciousness. After some minutes or hours of staying down, the rain stopped, and he slowly stood up from the ground, his head held high, and glared into the darkness that surrounded him, which no longer seemed as threatening as it did just a few moments ago. He stayed there standing for a long time, listening carefully for any sign of the creature returning until he could hear the gradually increasing chirping of crickets and the gentle hooting of owls in the distance, a cold breeze ran through his wet fur, and he knew it was over. With that, he shifted his weight as to not hurt more his battered legs and aching side, and sluggishly paced through the forest, trying to find the trail that would lead him back home.
When Big Macintosh finally made it out of the woods the morning after going in, it was into a cold morning, and the worried presence of his family and friends, who were shocked at the sight of the battered and muddy stallion. Applejack had been fuming, but her anger melted away once he could see up close the state of his brother. She scolded him as tears streamed down her face. She gave him an earful that would have normally made him feel guilty, but he was far too tired and hurt to notice. The tears finally won over the anger, and Applejack tackled him on a strong embrace, which was soon followed by little Apple Bloom and Granny Smith. In between sobs and cries of thankfulness, his family begged him to tell them what had happened.
He didn’t say anything.
Big Mac was silent before, and was even more silent after. He tried to be his old self and put the events of his… encounter behind him, and most of the time he succeeded. But there was no denying that something inside of him had changed that night. Granny Smith noticed it, and so did his sisters, but neither said anything about it. They didn’t want to pressure him into telling them what had happened if he wasn’t ready, and he appreciated that.
Until then, Big Macintosh kept to himself, and once his wounds had healed, he went back to his usual routine on the farm. But he occupied his free time pacing back and forth around the farmhouse and the barn, always looking intently towards the Everfree forest, knowing, dreading that…
That someday, It would return.
