Author's Note
re-edited 2:12 AM EST on August 13, 2018
The Last Nightmare Night
"Aren't you going out for trick or treat?" Sweetie Belle's sister asked two weeks before Nightmare Night. "If you want me to make you a costume, we'd better start soon."
"I'm getting kind of old for that," Sweetie Belle said. "Maybe I'll skip it this year."
"Are you sure? I thought you loved to go out."
Sweetie Belle nodded. "I'm pretty sure." She'd been thinking about it ever since last year---ever since those other fillies and colts had stolen her candy and chased her down the road. As much as she loved Nightmare Night, it just wasn't worth the risk. Nightmare Moon terror was fun. Real terror wasn't.
"There's still time for me to make a costume," her sister said a week before Nightmare Night.
"Thanks. But I think I'll stay home and hand out candy." That might even be fun, Sweetie Belle thought. She liked seeing the little fillies and colts in their cute costumes. Her enthusiasm faded as she realized the other fillies and colts would come to her door too---the ones who didn't even bother with real costumes. The ones who were just out to get as much candy as they could.
"Last chance," Sweetie Belle's sister said the day before Nightmare Night. "I can still put something together."
Sweetie Belle looked out the window at the leaf-strewn roads that would soon be filled with costumed fillies and colts. "No thanks," she said.
But on Nightmare Night, as the day fell dark and the smallest trick-or-treaters emerged from their houses like ants spilling from a hill, Sweetie Belle wondered if it was too late to change her mind.
She had good memories of her first Nightmare Night. It wasn't fair to have nothing but bad memories about her last one. But that awful Nightmare Night didn't have to be her last one. not if she went out now.
Costume, Sweetie Belle thought, rummaging through her closet. Nothing. Sure, she could throw together a hippie outfit, or do some sort of clown makeup, but that wasn't good enough. That wasn't special.
She tried the basement. The sound of the doorbell drifted down from upstairs. As Sweetie Belle scanned the piles of boxes stacked along a wall, the flash of a gold latch caught her eye.
Her great grandmother's old trunk sat shoved in a corner beneath moldy boxes of baby toys and a stack of canning jars. Sweetie Belle vaguely remembered looking in the trunk when they'd first moved to the house.
She uncovered the trunk and unlatched the lid. A dusty smell of ancient cloth tickled her snout as she sorted through the contents. Just old dresses. Nice enough, but not the sort of costume she wanted. There was a hat with veil---thin black gauze that covered the face of the wearer. This might work in an emergency, she thought. Still she hoped to find something better.
Sweetie Belle found nothing else. But, as she started to close the lid, she realized something was wrong. The outside of the trunk seemed deeper than the inside. She emptied the trunk and knocked her hoof against the bottom. Instead of a solid whack, she was rewarded with a hollow thump. Excited, she pushed and pressed until she discovered the right spot. The false bottom popped up.
Sweetie Belle held her breath as she lifted the wood panel, wondering what treasures she might find.
Gloves. That was all. One pair of OH MY GOD BLACK LEATHER GLOVES!!!!! Sweetie Belle noticed a folded slip of paper tucked inside the gloves. She opened the slip and read the hoofwritten words out loud, "Special gloves for a special night."
The doorbell rang again. Sweetie bell heard a chorus of young voices shouting "Trick or treat!" Nightmare Night was slipping past her like hourglass sand.
Sweetie Belle grabbed the hat. Not a great costume, but it would have to do On a whim, she grabbed the gloves, too. After all, it was a special night, even if she didn't have a special costume. She slipped the gloves over her hooves. They felt like she'd worn them for years. She put on the hat. The veil cut her off from the world, filtering everything through a dark curtain.
Sweetie Belle ran upstairs and grabbed her Nightmare Night saddle bag.
"I'm going out," she called to her sister.
"Have fun. Be careful."
She dashed into the crisp air of the last night in Coltober. As she knocked on her first door and got her first piece of candy, Sweetie Belle knew she'd make the right decision. She traveled the familiar roads, following a pattern she'd worked out over the years.
At most houses, she heard the same question."What an interesting costume. What are you?"
"Just a veiled mare," Sweetie-Belle told them.
She reached Orchard street. A dead end.The best path was down one side and up the other.She went to the first house on the right, and then the second.
As she left the second house, she heard the hoof steps behind her. Hoof steps and whispers.She took a quick glance over her shoulder at the hovering shapes. Taller foals. Bigger foals. Though she hated to break the pattern, Sweetie-Belle crossed the street.
They followed. Going to each house right after her. Playing with her the way a cat plays with a mouse. They had time. She was trapped.
Sweetie-belle crossed the street again.
They crossed, too
And again.
Sweetie-Belle gripped her bag with her right hoof, feeling the plastic handle bite against her fur through the thin leather of the gloves. I'm just going to walk back to the corner, she told herself. She'd go past them, and everything would be fine.
Forcing herself to look straight ahead, she took a couple of steps towards them. Crude laughs bubbled from the cluster of foals.
"Trick or treat," the colt in front said in a nasty, mocking voice. His only costume was a Hoofball shirt. behind him, another colt,the tallest of the group, wore a flying jacket.
"Gonna share?" the colt in front asked.
Sweetie-Belle avoided his eyes.
He stepped closer and reached toward her bag.
Sweetie-Belle put her left hoof out, as if this motion had thr power to stop them. She paused as the oddest sound punctured the night.
Thwick...thwick...thwick...thwick...thwick.
Claws, black as coal and sharp as needles, Sprouted from her hooftips.
"Just give me the bag," the colt said
Sweetie-bell gave him the claws instead.
He screamed and clutched at his ripped shirt with his hoof. The others took a step towards her.Sweetie-belle flicked her left fore-arm out and slashed ribbons in the tall colt's flight jacket. She slashed flesh too, but only enough to warn him off, only enough to make him think twice the next time he considered stalking a victim.
Even in the dark, the others saw enough to know what she had done.
They turned and fled, but not before Sweetie-Belle flicked her hoof one last time, Gutting their bags and spilling candy onto the street.
The claws retracted.
Sweetie-Belle left the spiled candy for the little foals to find. She'd already received her reward. She finished her path along the street
At the final house, a mare said,"My,my, that's a lovely costume. What are you?"
"Justice," Sweetie-Belle whispered.
"What?" the mare asked.
"Just a veiled mare," Sweetie-Belle said.
Her bag was nearly full. Normally, that was when she returned to the Boutique. But there were other foals out there like her, alone and vulnerable. And there were other gangs like the one she'd met.
Sweetie-Belle stayed on the streets until the last porch light went out. Finally, she headed home.
"Did you have a good time?" Rarity asked.
Sweetie-Belle nodded, sending a ripple through the veil. She removed her hat and gloves. "I think this was the best Nightmare Night ever. I can't wait until next year!"
"Well, just let me know ahead of time if you want a costume," Rarity said.
"I'll stick with this one," Sweetie-Belle said. "I'ts kinda fun. And it fits me really well!"
