Author's Note
Thought I'd do a little Halloween fic, so here ya go!
There will be AppleShy (eventually)
How it all Started
My name was Applejack. I lived in the rustic Apple farm Sweet Apple Acres, with my siblings and my grandmother. At the ripe age of twenty-eight, I was content with life. I had my family, paying work at the farm, and even a special somepony.
His name was Iron Hoof. He was a gentle giant of a stallion, and could carry my big brother as easily as I carried apple buckets. We had met two years prior, when he was offered a job at the farm. We got to know each other while working and it led to something I thought I would never have found- love. With him, I could drop the tough gal act. It was easy to get lost looking into his peculiar amber-colored eyes, his light gray muzzle with a gentle smile on his face.
One thing bothered me, though. We’d never see each other in the evening. Sometimes he’d stay for supper but leave directly afterwards for his cabin in the woods by the farm. He’d cancel any attempts of mine to see him at night, with excuses of being exhausted, or something else.
Then, one evening, I saw a note. It was taped to the windowpane of my bedroom, with his obvious hoofwriting on it. ‘Applejack,’ it read. ‘Meet me at my cabin. I need you to do something for me. Love, Iron.’ I was confused. He’d never invited me to where he lived. I never went there, because he never wanted me to. I guessed that was about to change.
Donning a light hooded cloak, I gently walked downstairs. Granny was sleeping on the couch. Big Mac was in the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow as I was leaving. “Ah’ll be right back.” I mouthed to him. “Ah’ just need to do somethin’.” I continued on as he nodded his head.
It wasn’t too hard to see where I was going. The moon was out, full and shining brightly. It illuminated my path, the night wind blowing light and crisp. The cabin was big, for cabin standards. It had a brick chimney and a wooden roof. The door was a dark shade of red, the brass handle dull and obviously used often. Candlelight was shining in the window, showing that someone was home. I knocked once. No answer for the few moments I waited. I turned the handle and opened the door.
Iron Hoof was inside, wincing as if he was in pain, clutching his head. He didn’t appear wounded. He opened his eyes, pupils dilated and nearly crazy looking. He gasped out in ragged breaths. “Applejack!”
“Iron!” I rushed to him, to see if he was alright. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have much time. I can…” Another gasp for air left his mouth. “…control it for now. I can’t do it forever.”
“’It?’ What in the hay do ya’ mean? What’d ya’ need me to do?”
“What I’m talking about…” Yet another gasp left his mouth. “…doesn’t matter right now. What matters is what you do after it breaks loose. When that happens, I need you to…” Another gasp for air amid his ragged breathing. “…to kill it. To kill me.”
“What?!” I looked at him, dumbfounded. “Why in Tartarus would Ah’ do that?”
“It won’t be me. I’ll try to hurt you. If something happens to you, and it’s my fault… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” He reached out to touch my hoof. “Please, Applejack. I’m…begging…you.”
Seeing the pleading look on his face, I reluctantly made my decision. “Fine, Ah’ll do it.” He went still, the only sounds from him being his labored breathing. I looked for something sharp as the breathing eased. Then I heard something that would make the hairs on anypony’s mane stand up. I heard him growl. Not an imitation, but one you would hear from a live animal.
I stood frozen in fear as he started to change. His gray coat grew darker, each hair on his short coat growing longer than most ponies ever had. His hooves changed to paws, his tail blending in with the rest of his body. His flat teeth changed to razor-sharp canines.
I couldn’t help but watch in horror. Trying to move with no avail. His eyes opened with the same color with the kindness replaced by feral hunger. I only found the will to move as he pounced. Ducking down, he barely missed me. I searched for something as he recovered from his head hitting the wall. Finding nothing, I tried to avoid his next pounce. He nearly got me, one claw scratching my right cheek slightly.
At the smell of blood, the predator grew wilder, even smarter. I jumped as he aimed for my neck, but missed and sunk his teeth into my left hind leg instead. I screamed and fell. My hoof scraped the peculiar silver poker by the fireplace. Grabbing it in my mouth, I got up shakily. Now I had the upper hoof. The prey had become the hunter.
I backed it against the wall, fear now in its primal eyes. It yelled in pain as the poker sunk into its neck. I kept stabbing it until one last whine trailed out, and the body fell limp on the floor.
My adrenaline rush now over, I dropped the poker and proceeded to fall unconscious.
When I woke, it was still dark enough to be night outside. Getting up shakily with my injured hoof, I hobbled home the best I could. Nopony was awake in the farmhouse, which gave me time to address my wounds. I got a small bandage for my cut cheek first, and then wrapped some spare gauze around the bite.
Mentally and physically exhausted, I limped my way up the stairs. I took my cloak off and hung it on the door handle. Opening the door, I hobbled in and fell fast asleep.
I woke to my brother poking me. His normally emotionless expression showed concern. “Applejack, are ya’ okay?” he asked.
“Ah’m fine, Big Mac. A small timberwolf attack in the woods last night on the way to Iron’s cabin. Ah’ got it all patched up, don’t worry.”
“Are ya’ sure?” He asked with a small tremor of fear in his voice. “’Cause Ah’ went to Iron’s cabin and…a monster was there. The…thing was lyin’ dead still with blood nearly all over the place but no sign of Iron. Ah’ was worried.”
“Ah’m fine, but Iron…he’s dead.” I looked down at the floor to avoid my brother’s sorrowful look. “The monster thing…tore him apart. Ah’ couldn’t do anythin’ about it and Ah’-”
Big Mac did something someone quiet and work-centered like him never did. He hugged me. “Little sis, Ah’m so sorry.” He cooed gentle words of comfort as I felt sick. I hated lying to anyone, let alone my own brother, but it was necessary. The truth would’ve worried him even more. At the very least, we both thought that problem was over.
Only years afterwards did I realize how horribly wrong we were.
