The Haunting of Elm House

The bedroom was directly across the hall from the bathroom. Sweetie Belle threw open the door and charged in without a care. The door swung wide and hit the wall with a bang.

“Careful, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom said, scurrying in after her, “If there was something in here, it would know we're coming.”

“Quiet, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo hissed. Her fur was standing on end.

The spare bedroom was just like they had last left it. The bed was made and the bedside tables were empty.

Scootaloo again took the bedside tables, opening the drawers and glancing inside for anything. Sweetie Belle was pulling back the sheets on the bed. Apple Bloom's gaze drifted to the closet doors, and she gulped.

Gripping the candlestick tighter in her mouth, she reached up and turned the knob, jumping back as the door gently swung open.

The only thing inside was a large box. Apple Bloom walked up and poked the box quickly with her hoof. There was no response. One of the flaps was open. She opened the box and peered inside.

“What's in there, Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle called in after her.

Apple Bloom set the candlestick down and grabbed the open flap in her teeth. The box slid soundlessly against the carpet as she pulled it into the main room.

“Records,” she explained, pulling out one of the albums for them to see.

The closet looked a lot bigger without any light. Apple Bloom quickly—but quietly—shut the door. When she turned around again, Sweetie Belle was holding one of the record sleeves and gazing at the cover. There was a longing in her eyes, and the bare hint of a smile on her muzzle.

“Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom said, looking around for the candlestick before realizing with a sinking heart where it was.

“Hmm? Sorry, I... I feel like... like I know these from somewhere.”

“How could you?” Scootaloo asked, “They're so old. Probably used to play on that record player downstairs.”

“Just because it's old doesn't mean it's not good music!” Sweetie Belle snapped, “You girls and your music...”

“Sweetie Belle, you're scaring us,” Apple Bloom said, closing the closet door again now that she had her candlestick back.

“I'm sorry girls,” she replied. Her expression had softened; she was on the verge of tears. She hugged the record to her chest. “I should know this music. Why can't I remember these names? Why can't I remember?!”

“Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle flinched.

“I'm sorry,” she said, putting the record down. “Let's just go.”

Apple Bloom glanced to Scootaloo, who shared her worried frown. Apple Bloom glanced to Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo nodded.

“Aright, let's go,” Apple Bloom said, making for the door.

“Shouldn't whoever is holding the candlestick go in the middle?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“No,” Scootaloo assured her, “Let me have the candlestick. You know, in case something sneaks up on us from behind.”

Sweetie Belle glared at her, but merely grunted and followed Apple Bloom.

Judging from the way Apple Bloom's bow quivered in the darkness, Scootaloo guessed that the earth pony was just as frightened as herself. At the bottom of the stairs, the two shared a brief glance as Sweetie Belle barged ahead of them towards the dining room.

“Wish we'd brought a feather duster,” Apple Bloom muttered as she closed the door behind them.

“Feel free to start plucking,” Scootaloo said, holding out her wing. Her joke was muffled by the brass candlestick in her mouth.

“Come on, you guys,” Sweetie Belle said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen already, “this room's clean.”

“Yer the one who insisted on coming back,” Apple Bloom pointed out.

Scootaloo followed closely behind Apple Bloom, trying not to fall too far behind the light. The fur on her body stood on end as a shiver traced its way down her spine.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo stood together in the kitchen, watching Sweetie Belle scan the counter and shelves for something. Scootaloo finally put the candlestick down, making a “blech” face.

“Nothing in here either,” she said, ears drooping, “Let's keep going.”

Apple Bloom picked back up the candlestick and followed, glancing around nervously as she did so. Scootaloo followed, refusing to fall behind her.

The drawing room looked to be exactly the same as the night before. Scootaloo went up to the wall and examined the pealing wallpaper for a bit. She could hear somepony's footsteps on the hardwood. She glanced over and almost gasped out when when she saw that her friends were both standing on one of the nice rugs. Apple Bloom's face was almost drained of color.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“No,” Scootaloo immediately replied, and then contradicted herself with, “It's probably just an echo. Sweetie Belle, can we go?”

Sweetie Belle was eying the locked door in the room.

“Sweetie?”

She blinked and looked back at Scootaloo.

“Yeah,” she said, “Yeah, let's go.”

Apple Bloom gripped the candlelight tightly in her mouth as they slipped back into the hallway. She could feel herself quivering, but refused to believe that it was anything more than just a chill. Or at least she told herself not to believe it was anything more.

The living room had a few windows covered by moth-eaten curtains. Apple Bloom stared at the curtains for a moment in the dim light cast by her necklace. They were made of a thick purple cloth. From what she remembered about fabric from visiting Sweetie Belle's sister's house, it was probably very expensive. What was it doing here? Same as the furniture—why did nopony take it when they left?

“Hey girls!” Scootaloo cried, making Apple Bloom jump, “I found something.”

Apple Bloom approached Scootaloo, who was looking over a photo album.

“Look,” she said, pointing at one of the pictures, “These are the two from that picture above the fireplace.” Apple Bloom glanced back to confirm what she was saying. “But look here.” She turned the page. “Who are these? And why does it look like pictures are missing?”

Some of the pictures she was referring to had a green unicorn mare in them, and others had a small bluish pegasus filly with yellow hair. Some pictures had both of them in it, but as Scootaloo flipped through the book it was evident that some pictures were missing. Not only was there empty space on every page, but there were some pictures that were only half-ripped off.

Apple Bloom whispered, “This house gets weirder and weirder every time we find something new.”

Sweetie Belle watched the two of them whisper to each other about her. Fine by her. If they were going to be cowards, then so be it.

Something tickled at the back of her mind, telling her that something was wrong with that thought. But that nagging idea was chased from her mind by a shiver that ran across her body.

She glanced over to the chimney where the breeze had come from and approached it. The air was so cold. Her necklace illuminated the long-dead ash and bits of charred wood, and Sweetie Belle silently wished for a match.

But there was something more. The filly leaned in and started poking at the sooty remains, covering her hoof and fur in ash. When she didn't find anything, she began shifting the ashes more, scowling as she did so.

It should be here. It needs to be here!

Stomping her dirty hoof in anger, she directed her attention up the chute. Her eyes lit up as the light caught on a small metallic object. It was taped against the brick. Sweetie Belle leaned in closer and reached up, but couldn't get to it. How had it gotten so far up there?

She pulled herself further into the chimney, hoisting herself up as high as she could. It was within her reach. She scraped at it with her hoof. The tape was pealing away. Someone called out her name, but she ignored it. There was a tugging at her tail, but she just kicked back at it.

“Got it!” she cried, watching the object fall into the ashes.

Sweetie Belle came out of the chimney with a plop and a large cloud of soot. As soon as she and her friends were done hacking, she stood up and tried to dust clean her mane.

“Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom cried again, getting Sweetie Belle's attention.

“Oh, sorry Apple Bloom,” she said, glancing her over, “I got you dirty. How did you get that bruise?”

“Ya kicked me!”

“I did?”

“Yes, ya did! What were ya thinking getting caught up in the chimney?!”

Sweetie Belle looked confused for a moment, and then she practically jumped with excitement.

“That's right!” she exclaimed, “Look what I found.”

She ran over and reached into the soot with her mouth, causing Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to wince, and returned with a dirty nose and a small gold key in her mouth.

Dropping it into her hoof, she held it up for them to see. “I think I even know what it goes to!”

“And what might that be?” Scootaloo asked.

“I'll show you,” she said, heading towards the doorway.

“Um... Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom asked, getting her attention, “Don't ya want to clean up first?”

Sweetie Belle looked over herself for a moment, and then shrugged.

“I guess so,” she said, “But didn't Scootaloo say that there's no running water?”

“You could still try to towel yourself off,” the filly suggested, holding her leg to her nose to avoid inhaling any more soot.

The downstairs bathroom was dark and filled with spider webs. Sweetie Belle tried the faucet, and a brown murky water came out. She grabbed the towel instead and tried wiping the soot from her fur.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo watched as she failed to clean herself.

“How are we gonna explain this to her parents?” Apple Bloom asked Scootaloo.

“Maybe if we leave early we can wash it off in the river,” she replied.

“Then how are we going to explain why we're all wet?”

“I don't know, Apple Bloom. I'm tired.”

“Alright,” Sweetie Belle said, “Let's try out this key.”

She turned to head back upstairs and Apple Bloom put out a hoof to stop her.

“Where are ya going?”

“The locked door upstairs.”

“How do ya know it doesn't unlock the door in the other room?”

Sweetie Belle blinked twice in confusion.

“No,” she said, “It unlocks the upstairs room. Let's go.”

She pushed past Apple Bloom and began up the stairs.

“Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo cried softly, following her up the stairs.

The two fillies followed their friend up the stairs and to the locked door. Barely glancing at her friends, Sweetie Belle stuck the key into the lock and turned it. They heard a click and Sweetie Belle pushed the door open.

A quick sweep of the room with their flashlights showed that it was unlike any other room in the house. Sweetie Belle led the way in, a little more hesitant than she had been up to that point.

There was a desk that had been overturned, papers strewn everywhere. A bookshelf stood against one wall, and unlit candles hung around the room.

Apple Bloom set down the candlestick and picked up one of the papers, squinting her eyes at the faded lettering.

“It's no use,” she said, “Ink's too faded to make out.”

“What do you think happened here?” Scootaloo asked in a hushed tone.

“Looks like somepony threw a fit,” she replied, spotting an empty picture frame on the wall. It looked like there had been a painting in it at one point, but it had been torn out. Shreds of canvas remained hanging from the frame.

“Well,” she concluded, turning towards Sweetie Belle, “We've checked every nook and cranny in this here house, and there's nothing here.”

She said nothing.

“Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo asked.

“There is one place,” she told them, “Remember the other door?”

“The one ya refused to check? Yeah. But ah doubt this here key works on both doors.”

“Then we won't need a key,” Sweetie Belle decided, already headed out the door.

“Sweetie Belle! Stop it!” Apple Bloom cried, “Yer... yer scaring me.” At the moment, she wasn't really concerned with ghost stories or getting in trouble. She just wanted her friend to stop.

Sweetie Belle took a long hard look at Apple Bloom. For a moment, she looked like she was about to tell her to shut up. Then her expression softened, and she sighed.

“I'm sorry, girls,” she said, sitting down, “I'm just... I just want to put an end to this. If it turns out to be nothing, then we'll forget about it and go home. Okay?”

Apple Bloom nodded, not trusting herself to say anything. She glanced at Scootaloo, who looked a little nauseous.

Scootaloo followed the other two out the door, pulling it closed behind her. She could not get out of there fast enough.

Sweetie Belle led the way down the stairs, with Apple Bloom close behind. The boards creaked under their hoofsteps, and then it was Scootaloo's turn to join them in making the sound. Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Every instinct told her to hide in the shadows and stay as still and quiet as possible.

It briefly crossed her mind that there could be anything waiting in those shadows for her.

Maybe she'd been so worried about Sweetie Belle that she hadn't noticed it before, but the house seemed a little darker than the night before. A little colder too.

At the bottom of the stairs, Apple Bloom took the lead, clutching the candlestick firmly in her mouth.

“In here,” Sweetie Belle said, pointing at the drawing room there.

“Thanks, we'd forgotten,” Scootaloo shot back sarcastically. But she took a nervous gulp all the same.

Apple Bloom pushed the door open and walked inside. Sweetie Belle followed, but quickly ran into Apple Bloom, who had stopped suddenly.

“Oof! Why did you...?”

“W-what's going on?” Scootaloo asked, taking a careful step back.

Sweetie Belle glanced back at her and then stepped aside to give her an opening. She squeezed in and dropped her flashlight at what she saw.

The door to the basement was wide open. It was as if it were waiting for them, as if it were staring them down.

“The door was locked,” Apple Bloom whispered, “How'd it get open?”

“I don't know,” Sweetie Belle said, taking another step away.

Scootaloo continued to stare at the open door. The combined light from their necklaces illuminated the frame, but could not pierce the darkness within.

She wanted to go home.

“Let's finish this,” she said, “Let's go in.”

When her friends didn't respond, Scootaloo turned to face them. They were looking at her with the utmost confusion.

She wished she could explain it to them. She really did. She wished she understood it herself. All she did know was that she had her Rainbow Dash doll in her backpack, and that was enough. Rainbow Dash wouldn't have been afraid. Rainbow Dash would have charged in to face whatever was down there, and Rainbow Dash would have kicked its butt.

“We're going in there,” she said again, a bit more sure of herself, “We're the Cutie Mark Crusaders. We're not afraid of some imaginary ghosts.”

“It's not imaginary,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

“No, Scootaloo's right.” Apple Bloom took a few steps towards the doorway. “All this stuff's just in our imaginations. There's nothing here that we wouldn't hear or see in one of our own houses.”

Sweetie Belle glanced between the two of them as if they had gone mad.

“You can't be serious!” she cried, “We can't go down there.”

“Down?” Apple Bloom asked.

Now slightly more curious than afraid, Scootaloo scooted in closer to the doorway. Craning her neck to get a good look, she could see a series of old, cement steps leading downward.

“Sweetie Belle,” she said, “How did you know this led to the basement?”

“I just knew,” she said, but she seemed a little more interested now, even walking forward a little bit herself to get a peak.

Apple Bloom gulped and took the lead. Scootaloo followed behind, trying to imagine that Rainbow Dash was beside her. Her idol placed a hoof on her shoulder, then leaned in to whisper, “Come on kid. I’m right beside you.”

I know, she replied to herself, then took the first step. The ancient stone shot a chill up her leg, enough to freeze her in place, but she pushed forward and took another step.

Only when the two of them reached the bottom did they realized that Sweetie Belle wasn’t with them. She was still standing in the doorway above. The light from her necklace cast a shadow over her face, making it impossible to read her expression.

“Sweetie Belle? Aren’t ya coming?”

Scootaloo expected her to shake her head or something. For a brief moment, panic enveloped her as she expected Sweetie Belle to slam and lock the door on them.

Instead she surprised them by asking, “Can’t you smell that?”

There came the sound of Apple Bloom sniffing the air.

“Yuck! That's just the smell of dust buildup. It happens sometimes when ya don't use a room for a very long time. I've seen it before.”

Sweetie Belle didn't respond.

“Come on Sweetie Belle. Yer overreacting.”

The fur on the back of Scootaloo’s neck was standing on end. She turned to look around the room, hoping it was just her imagination.

The basement was full of boxes, except for the chairs that were stacked in one corner.

It was definitely too small a room for something to be hiding down there.

While the others looked around, Sweetie Belle did come down, but refused to move from the bottom of the stairs to explore the room. She was using her front leg to cover her nose.

“Come on guys, I know you can smell this,” she said.

She didn't know what it was, but it was making her eyes water. It filled up her throat. She was going to vomit.

“Sweetie Belle?” someone asked.

She was dizzy.

“Sweetie Belle?”

“What?!” she asked, accidentally spitting right into Apple Bloom’s face.

“Ya look sick,” Apple Bloom told her, wiping at her face.

“It's this smell!” she exclaimed.

“Are ya allergic?” Apple Bloom asked, suddenly looking alarmed, “If ya are, ya need to get out of here.”

Sweetie Belle didn't understand. There was a glint of laughter in Apple Bloom's eye, and she was using that sarcastic tone she always used with Diamond Tiara. Did she think this was funny? How could she and Scootaloo just stand there and pretend that nothing was wrong. They should be retching their guts out at the smell. Why were they mocking her? Why were they mocking her?!

They knew what was going on. That had to be it. They knew the truth and they were hiding it from her. Apple Bloom had rested a hoof on her shoulder, but there was no warmth in the gesture. They were trying to deceive her. It was all lies.

But they weren't going to get the best of her.

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to expose all of Apple Bloom's dirty betrayal, but she wasn't even looking at her. She was looking at Scootaloo, who was holding something in her hoof.

“Go on upstairs,” Apple Bloom told Sweetie Belle, “We'll be right up.”

Like Tartarus she was. They weren't going to hide anything from her.

She tried to come forward, and instantly felt like she had been hit by a cart. She leaned over, bile climbing her throat. She pushed it back down and forced her eyes open. Wiping the tears away, she took those final few steps and put on a smile. They weren't going to get the best of her.

As soon as she saw the book in Scootaloo's hooves, though, her heart almost stopped. It was small and red and undeniably familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had seen it before.

Scootaloo tried to explain, “It was just lying here on the floor, next to this... Sweetie Belle, you don't look so good.”

Apple Bloom agreed. “I think Sweetie's allergic to the dust down here.”

Stop talking about me like I'm not here! Sweetie Belle wanted to scream.

“Can that even happen?” Scootaloo asked.

“Ah've heard about it. Let's get back up to the room so she can lie down.”

Once again she rested a hoof on Sweetie's shoulder and helped to guide her away from that spot. Sweetie Belle didn't even try to resist.