The Horrors That Lay Inside The Carousel Boutique

Applejack, Apple Bloom and Big Mac all stared at Sweetie Belle with open mouths and wide eyes.

“Sweetie Belle, what the hay are you talking about?” Applejack asked.

“I mean, if The Doll is after me, if it kills me, then it won’t need to kill anyone else, right? I don’t want all you guys to have to die just because you were trying to keep me from dying. So I’m going to sacrifice myself.” She said.

“B-but Sweetie Belle…” Apple Bloom whimpered.

“I’m going to write a note to everyone I care about. Except you guys, because I’ll telling you all of this right now. I wanted to ask you though, if you would give the letters I write to the people I write them to?”

“Of course.” Applejack said.

“Sweetie Belle.” Big Mac said. “You’re being very brave sacrificing yourself for everyone else in Ponyville and possibly all of Equestria. I admire you very much.”

“Thank you, Big Mac. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many words at one time.” Sweetie Belle said.

“Eeyup.” He said.

“So when exactly are you going to sacrifice yourself, and how?” Applejack asked.

“Tomorrow morning. Tonight I’m going to write all the letters. And I’m going to go to Carousel Boutique all by myself,” She seemed to emphasize the part about going alone. “And just go up to The Doll and let it kill me, no matter how painful it will be.”

Apple Bloom whimpered, “You’re so brave, Sweetie Belle.”

“I’m also a masochist.” She said.

“Oh…” Apple Bloom said. “But you’re still so brave.”

Sweetie Belle nodded happily. “Could I have some paper, a pencil, and a pencil sharpener?” She asked.

“Ah’ll get that for you.” Applejack said, standing up. She left and when she came back, she was holding several pieces of paper, two pencils, and a small, handheld sharpener. “Here.” She handed them to Sweetie Belle. She took them and went up to guest room, where she had stayed the night after she was attacked by The Doll the first time.

She decided she would write the letter to Scootaloo first. It took her two pieces of paper, front and back, to explain about The Doll, and what had happened and to say her goodbyes. She mentioned that she hoped she would get her cutie mark soon, Apple Bloom too.

Then she wrote a letter to her school teacher, Cheerilee. Then she wrote a letter to her not friends, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. She mostly wrote that one, hoping they would be sad that she was gone. Maybe the details on Rarity’s dead body would give them nightmares.

Last but not least, she wrote a letter to Button Mash. She told him that she was going to sacrifice herself to save anyone else who might be in danger from being attacked by The Doll. She hoped he would take the news well. She also added some other stuff in the letter.

She folded up all the letters and stacked them on top of each other, in the order she wanted them to be delivered. Then she laid down in the bed and fell asleep quickly.

She woke up the next morning right as the sun was coming up. She quietly got up and left, leaving the letters where she had put them last night, hoping Applejack or Apple Bloom or Big Mac would find them and give them out to who they were addressed to. She walked all the way through Ponyville to the Carousel Boutique, where she figured The Doll would be.

When she got there, she walked in, slowly. At first, she tried to refrain from going up the stairs past Rarity’s dead, rotting body, so she looked around for The Doll downstairs. She passed the room where Apple Bloom had killed Opal, and tried not to go that way as well. When she was sure she had looked everywhere downstairs and she hadn’t found The Doll, she forced herself to climb the stairs.

When she first saw her body, she thought that it looked like a changeling’s body. It had holes in it everywhere, probably from decomposition, and her bones were showing through the holes. Her eyes were wide open, and they had been half eaten. Dozens of flies swarmed above the body.

Sweetie Belle focused on the huge hole in Rarity’s stomach. It was completely empty, and her organs were splayed about on the steps. Most of them were half eaten, and had a few flies circling over them. There was dried blood on the steps, looking somewhat like a frozen waterfall. A frozen waterfall of blood, that is.

She controlled her gag reflex the best she could and didn’t throw up. She carefully walked up the stairs, trying her hardest not to step on any part of Rarity, not even her hair or tail. She couldn’t do anything about stepping in her blood though. When she finally made it to the top without barfing she decided to look in Rarity’s craft room first.

She walked in and looked around. She saw a small bit of blood on the floor. “That must be where Opal attacked Rarity.” Sweetie Belle thought. She looked around a little longer and then left. She check Rarity’s room. She looked under the bed, inside cabinets and dressers. She didn’t find the doll anywhere.

“Where could that dumb Doll be?” She thought. She decided to check her own room. That was where it attacked her the first time. She nervously made her way to her room. She saw a pitchfork stuck into her bed, with blood splattered on it, but nothing was stuck in between the pitchfork and her bed. She figured The Doll might be in there, so she looked around a little bit. She looked in the shadows where she had first seen it.

She heard deep laughing. “Welcome back, Sweetie Belle.” A voice said. Sweetie recognized the voice, it was The Doll.

“Where are you?” She asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“I’m hiding from you.” It said. The voice echoed all around the empty room and Sweetie Belle couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

“Well, as long as you’re hiding, I have some questions for you.” She said.

“Ask away.” The Doll said.

“If you kill me, will you stop hunting for people to kill?”

“Yes. I was designed to kill you, and whoever else got in my way.” The Doll explained.

“I knew it.” Sweetie Belle thought. “Did Rarity build you?”

“No.” The Doll said. “Rarity created me.”

“She created you to kill me?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yes, and she gave me someone’s heart. Even I am not sure whose heart this is.” It said.

“If she created you to kill me, then why did you kill her?”

“She got in my way. I was trying to kill you, but she interrupted.”

“But, if she built-”

“Created.” The Doll corrected.

“Right, if she created you, then why did she stop you from hurting me?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“She was tired of living.” The Doll said.

“Why did she want to kill herself?”

“She didn’t, she wanted someone to kill her.”

“Ok, but why?”

“She was tired of living.” The Doll said again.

Sweetie Belle groaned. “Why? Why was she tired of living?”

“Because her beloved parents had died, and she was being forced to take care of you, along with her Boutique. It was too much pressure for her to deal with.” The Doll explained.

“Oh….” She said.

“Now it’s my turn to ask some questions.” The Doll said.

“Ok, go on.” Sweetie Belle said. She sat down on her bed, waiting for The Doll to ask its questions.

“Why are you here?” It asked.

“I’m going to sacrifice myself to you so you don’t try to kill everyone who tries to protect me.”

“Very brave. You’re a very brave little girl.” The Doll said.

“That’s what Apple Bloom and Big Mac said.”

“Why are you choosing to sacrifice yourself?” The Doll asked.

“To save everyone I care about from being hurt.” She said.

“Why do you care about others being hurt?”

“Because I love them.”

“What is love?” The Doll asked.

Sweetie Belle didn’t answer at first. She thought for a moment. “Love is….” She stopped. “Love is when you care about someone else more than you care about yourself. Love is when you want to keep someone else safe, even at the risk of your own life being drained away. Love is when you feel something for someone, something that makes your heart ache and burn.” Sweetie Belle explained after some thought.

“Hearts don’t ache or burn, unless you’re having a heart attack, or heartburn.” The Doll said.

“That’s not what I meant.” Sweetie Belle said. “Not our real heart, not the one that beats. Our metaphoric heart, the one that holds all our feelings.”

“Feelings are held in your brain.” The Doll said.

“You would have to experience love if you want to understand it.” Sweetie Belle said.

The Doll crawled out from underneath Sweetie’s bed and presented itself to her. It had a knife in its hand, or hoof…. but its mouth made of stitches was not curved up into a smile. Instead it was turned down in a sad frown.

It dropped the knife and opened its arms up to Sweetie Belle. “Hold me.” It begged, its deep, scary voice sounding innocent and needy. Sweetie hesitated, but then reached down and picked The Doll up. “Hug me, p-please.” It begged. Sweetie Belle slowly and cautiously wrapped her arms around the small object. The Doll wrapped its own tiny arms around Sweetie Belle.

“Does this mean you aren’t going to kill me?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Oh, no. I’m definitely going to kill you.” The Doll said, still hugging her.

“Oh…” Sweetie Belle said. “That sure took the touching moment out of all this.” She thought. “Well, I would really appreciate it if you would get this over with.”

“Right.” The Doll said, releasing its grip on Sweetie Belle. “If you could put me down please.” It said.

“Sure.” Sweetie Belle said, putting The Doll down on the floor next to its knife. It picked the knife up.

“Could you pick me up again? And put me on the bed next to you?” The Doll asked.

“Uhhh… Sure.” Sweetie Belle said hesitantly. She picked it up and set it down on the bed next to her. “Why exactly do you need to be up here?” She asked.

“I just have this strange feeling. I want to make your death quick. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want you to suffer.” It said.

“Oh, thank you.” Sweetie Belle said. “Thank Celestia. I lied to the Apples about being a masochist. I just didn’t want them to think I would suffer. But now I guess I won’t.”

“Would you lay down so I can stab the knife directly into your heart?” The Doll asked.

Sweetie Belle nodded and laid down. The Doll climbed up onto her stomach and searched for the exact coordinates of her heart.

Sweetie Belle giggled. “That tickles.” The Doll ignored her and found her heart. It lifted up the knife and thrust it downward as hard and as fast as it could.

Sweetie Belle didn’t feel a thing. She died quickly and quietly. A small smile still on her face due to the tickling; and her eyes were closed. The Doll sighed. It was too tired to pull the knife out of her chest. It laid back on top of her and stared at the ceiling. It reached its small fabric hooves up to its chest and opened the stitches. It reached in and pulled out its own heart, dropping it onto the floor.

The Doll slowly died, while laying on top of Sweetie Belle’s dead body. At least all the horror was finally over.