Blade

Blossomforth gasped, putting down her pencil and remembering the two stallions that she had let in. She hadn’t seen them leave yet. Blossomforth looked up and saw the clock on the wall had moved quite a bit since she last looked up at it. They had been visiting their aunt for much longer than they promised. And the longer they remained in the building, the more likely it was that one of the doctors would walk in and catch them.

“I gave them a good time.” Blossomforth said to herself in an attempt to feel less guilty about kicking mourning relatives out.

Blossomforth left the desk and headed toward the elevator.

Arriving on Granny Smith’s floor, Blossomforth noticed something immediately as the doors opened; there was an enormous stain on the carpet near the end of the hall.

Curious, she moved closer to inspect it.

Now closer, she saw that the stain was already matted into the floor and starting to dry. Whatever it was was very deep and thick. She prodded the stain to see if it was damp or not. To her surprise, it was still wet. She looked at her hoof and saw that the liquid didn’t come off.

She scoffed in disgust, reasonably, trying to wipe it off on the flooring.

The first thing she realized was that wiping it didn’t get it off. The second thing she noticed was that it got stickier the more she scrubbed.

“What the-“

She looked at the material on her hoof in the moonlight and saw that it was a deep red. A thought ran through her head and she might have disregarded it had she not looked at the wall next to her afterward. On the wall was a spray of dots and streaks that were the same color as whatever was on her hoof.

Her eyes shot open. She knew what the material was. No doubt.

“Blood!” She yelped. “Blood! Everywhere!”

Without thinking, she barged into the room next to her and flipped on the lights. A few protesting shouts from patients trying to sleep, but nobody appeared to be hurt. She turned out of the room and burst through the door adjacent. She continued to do this frantically, fearing that she would find whoever had caused the mess and have to deal with it herself before having to call for more help.

Someone grabbed her shoulder quickly, making her jump with a shriek. She was turned around and met with Dr. Talostat.

“My god, Ms. Blossomforth! What are you doing!? It’s past lights out on this floor!” He yelled.

Blossomforth couldn’t think of what to say. She had no idea what she was doing, so she just said whatever came to mind.

“Blood! There’s blood everywhere!” She yelled back.

“What? Where? Where is there blood?” The doctor returned, puzzled.

“Everywhere! The hallway! It’s EVERYWHERE!!!” She shrieked.

The doctor held her shoulders simply staring at her in bafflement as her ramblings got less and less coherent until she eventually broke down into tears.

The staff would later find that two body bags had been stolen from inventory. The security personnel held responsible for leaving the supply unlocked were fired and Blossomforth was given a position in the day shift. The blood was not matched with any of the patients in the hospital and there was no visible harm to them that appeared related. All security cameras that might have caught the event on camera had been damaged beyond repair by what appeared to be stabs and slashes from an undefined sharp object. When the local police department became involved, the only other thing they were able to find were a few hoof prints, but they didn’t match with anything they had on record.

The case was closed quickly, a fate similar to the field manager’s murder case, which was discarded when they discovered that several violations of the Standard Equestrian Labor Policy had taken place daily in the fields. They decided that the murder was likely faked and the manager had left town to avoid charges being pressed.

Big McIntosh was eliminated as a suspect when he provided a valid alibi instantly when asked and was soon returned his ownership of Sweet Apple Acres.

Nobody saw a pink mare leave the hospital through the rear exit carrying two large sacks on her back that night. Nobody ever noticed the same mare make her way through town and up into the Everwhite. There was no pink mare brought up by anyone in any of the interrogations that took place in the aftermath, and there were no questions about the window that had been left open on the first floor.

The phone rang.

Thundering trots sounded as the red stallion descended the stairs into his living room and up to the parlor to answer the call.

“Eeyup.” He answered, picking up the handset.

“Mister McIntosh?” asked a droll, nasally voice on the opposite end.

“Eeyup.” Big Mac confirmed.

“We’re glad to inform you that an Annabelle Smith has exited her comatose state and is fully lucid. She is available for visit any time from now to six o-clock.”

Big Mac smiled greatly and slammed the phone down without responding. He exited the house, tossing aside all plans, and skipped his way to the hospital.

Upon arrival, he took the elevator to his grandmother’s room and stopped at the door. Gently, he peered in. He saw Granny Smith lying in her bed, appearing happy. Creaking the door open as not to disturb the other patients in the room, he made it to his granny.

“Howdy, Granny.” He whispered cheerily.

“Oh! Well great to see you there, kiddo!” Granny Smith openly blasted into the room.

Thrown a bit off by his grandmother’s loudness, he regained his composure and looked at her again.

“I got it back, Granny. Sweet Apple Acres is ours again!”

“Well, bust my buttons!” She responded gladly. “And I was thinkin’ this stroke’d set us back a bit with those damn brothers.”

“That’s just it, Granny. They’re dead. Somepony up n’ killed em’.” He smiled. “Everything that was theirs is ours!”

Granny Smith looked up at the ceiling and grinned.

“Goodness. I never thought I’d be rich.” She turned toward the window on the other side of the room. “Those fat rats did have somethin’ good about em’ after all.”

Big Mac waited for a moment and looked out the window with her. It was a beautiful day.

“I love you, Grandma.” He said.

“I had the craziest time in that sleep, you know.” She said, looking her grandson. “Some mighty weird dreams, I tell you.”

“Really?” Big Mac asked sincerely. “Like what?”

“Well,” She started “One of them were about this wacky orchard that talked to me like it were friends from back in school or somethin’.”

Big Mac chuckled at such a strange thought. “That’s it?”

“No, no. There was this other one I just had. Right before I went and woke up.”

“Well, what happened?”

Granny Smith tried her best to recall the images that had passed through her nut while she spoke.

“Well, there was this big ol’ demon a-chasin’ me.”

“A demon?” Big Mac asked, surprised.

“Two, I think.” She continued. “Yea. And then I was cornered with them about to gobble me right up, when all of a sudden, they got beat down by this big pony.”

“Big Pony? Like Princess Celestia?”

“No, no. Much bigger, Arthur.” She assured. “I couldn’t see its face, but it had a big fat sword with a mouth on it.”

“A mouth on a sword?”

“You betcha. That pony struck those demons right on down and saved me.” She finished.

“Golly.” Big Mac said. “That is a strange dream.”

“She was pink.” Granny added.

“Huh?”

“She was pink.” She repeated. “I think that was important.”

Big Mac smiled at his Granny and gave her a hug.  He closed his eyes as they embraced each other. Granny Smith hugged back, but absent minded.

She was trying to remember if she had heard a name in her dream. Ponky? Punky? Soon enough, she forgot without even trying. But, it wouldn’t have mattered. It was just a dream anyway.

Certainly, just a dream.