The Haunting of Elm House

Sweetie Belle's head was pounding. She rubbed her temples with her hooves but the pain wouldn't go away. Letting out a groan, she pushed her head into the dusty blanket. It didn't help.

“Are ya feeling any better?” Apple Bloom asked, pulling a pillow from her backpack and throwing it on the little couch for one of them to use.

Scootaloo was sitting next to the bed and peaking at the first couple pages of the book.

“It looks like somepony's diary,” she said, “I think it belonged to the filly who lived in this room. But there’s some weird things in here.”

“Well, what's it say?” Apple Bloom asked, “And why was it in the basement to begin with?”

Scootaloo flipped to the first page and began reading:

Daddy brought this diary home for me today. I think he heard me talking to mommy about how Silver Script at school had a diary and wanted me to have one too. Mommy got mad at him again today, but I don't know why. Ms. Scrub took me outside to play while they were yelling. I think she's a good maid. She's a lot nicer than the old one we had. She was so old and cranky. Ms. Scrub is more like an older sister. She's even younger than mommy. I have to go; I hear them yelling again and I don't want to get in trouble for being awake.

There was a long silence after Scootaloo finished. After a moment, she flipped to a later page and continued scanning the later entries.

“I feel sorry for her,” Apple Bloom said.

“I know,” Scootaloo replied, “Listen to this.”

Mommy pushed me again today and I hit the wall. There was a big dent, and she told me to stop crying and help her cover it up. My head hurt afterward, but she told me not to tell daddy or he wouldn't believe me. She didn't say sorry to me this time.

“Stop it!” Sweetie Belle cried, “Stop reading.”

“Nopony deserves that,” Apple Bloom said, “Not even... nopony deserves that.”

“Here, you read it.” Scootaloo held the book out. “I don't want to read it anymore.”

Apple Bloom took the book and opened it to another page to begin reading.

The house was gloomy today. As soon as I got home from school I felt sadder. Ms. Scrub wouldn't tell me what was going on. When I tried asking daddy about it, he took me out to go get ice cream. I forgot about it until just now, but he didn't even answer my question.

She flipped a couple of pages and continued.

I haven't seen mommy in three days. Daddy says that she's in her room and I shouldn't go in there. He won't tell me what's wrong with her. I want her to be okay. I prayed that she would be okay.

“Ponyville doesn’t even have a church,” Scootaloo pointed out.

“Ya don’t need a church to pray, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom told her, “Most ponies just do it right before they go to bed.”

“Oh…” Scootaloo looked stunned. “I didn’t know ponies did that.”

Apple Bloom pretended not to be bothered by that and kept on reading.

Today, I heard daddy and Ms. Scrub talking to each other in the living room. Daddy was playing his records, but I heard everything. They said that mommy is sick. Maybe that's why she stays in her room so much. She hasn't been to dinner at all in a week. I barely get to see her anymore. I don't want her to be sick. I keep praying, just like she taught me, but I'm scared. I'm really scared.

Apple Bloom read the next few pages silently, while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo contemplated what they had heard.

“This is odd,” Apple Bloom said, “I'm not sure what's going on here, but it's weird.”

When I came home from school today, mommy was there waiting for me. I was so happy to see her. We hugged for a whole five minutes at least. But then she told me that daddy and Ms. Scrub weren't coming back. She wouldn't tell me why, and she made me promise not to be sad. She seemed really angry at them. I wish I knew where they were. She said daddy was a good-for-nothing, but I can't believe that.

“What do ya think happened?” Apple Bloom asked.

“He probably ran off with that younger mare,” Sweetie Belle growled.

“Whoa! You think so?” Scootaloo asked.

“What else could it be?” she replied, “You heard the diary. He was a good-for-nothing.”

“The mother said that,” Apple Bloom told her, “But we don't know if that's true.”

“Well, keep reading. Maybe it will say something.”

Apple Bloom sighed and looked at the next entry.

“The date on this one is almost a week after the last. It looks like she stopped for a while after that incident.”

I still miss daddy. But mommy won't even talk about him. I keep hoping he'll send me a letter, but I check every day and there's no mail from him. I missed hearing his music. He'd put on a record and we'd dance together, and Ms. Scrub and mommy would watch us and laugh. She'd be happy. I thought maybe I could make her happy again if I played daddy's music. But when I tried, she shouted at me, and she took the records away. I don't know where she put them.

“That explains the records we found in the closet,” Scootaloo said, “And the dent in the wall.”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom agreed, “And maybe this explains the broken mirror.”

Mommy had a bandaged hoof when I got home today. It looked like she'd done it herself instead of letting a doctor. The bandage was all red, and there were red stains on the floors and walls. I don't think she really knows she's doing it. Her mane and tail are a mess. She's been thinking of daddy again. It was wrong of him to leave her. I wish he'd come back and make this better. Ponies at school keep asking me what's wrong, even the teacher. I wish I knew what to tell them.

“It looks like she was injured for a couple of weeks,” Apple Bloom explained.

Mommy shouted at me for slamming the door when I got home from school. She's still limping, even though the bandage is off. She dropped a plate today when her magic stopped working all of a sudden, and she threw a cup at me. I know she's not angry at me. It's daddy. It's his fault that she's upset all the time.

“So her mom was a unicorn,” Scootaloo realized, “but she was a pegasus.”

“Her dad was probably a pegasus,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

Apple Bloom nodded in agreement and kept reading.

Last night, I heard something going on downstairs. I went downstairs to look, and I saw mommy with the photo album. She was pulling out pictures and throwing them into the fire. I didn't try talking to her. I just wish that I knew why she was so sad. It's all because of daddy. I wish he'd never been part of our life.

“There was something seriously wrong with this mare,” Scootaloo decided.

“You don't know that,” Sweetie Belle told her, “She was very upset. It's not her fault.”

“Why are ya trying to defend her?” Apple Bloom asked, “She threw her daughter into the wall. And then she threw a glass at her!”

“I know that. But… I mean… you know…”

Apple Bloom just shook her head and told them, “There's only a couple of filled pages left.”

When I woke up today, I heard loud noises coming from daddy's office. Mommy was in there throwing things around. She told me to get out of there, so I skipped breakfast and headed straight to school. I was the first one there. Ponies have stopped asking me what's wrong. I kind of wish they would. When I got home, I tried the door to daddy’s office, but it was locked. I don't know where the key is.

“Ah guess we solved that mystery too,” Apple Bloom concluded, “Hold on, here's the last entry.”

I've been in here all day. When I woke up, mommy told me I couldn't go to school anymore. She wouldn't let me come out to eat. I haven't eaten anything today. I tried to leave my room, but she appeared and chased me back in. She kept saying that she wouldn't let him have me. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I need to get out of here.

“And that's where it stops.”

Nopony said anything. Scootaloo didn't mention the cold spot that sent a shiver across her body and wings. None of them brought up the soft scratching noise that seemed to come from inside the walls.

“So that's it,” Sweetie Belle said, “That's the secret of this house.”

“But what happened?” Scootaloo asked, “What happened to her? What happened to her mother? How did the diary get into the basement?”

“Ah don't think we want to know,” Apple Bloom decided, setting the book down, “Do ya think anypony would tell us if we asked?”

“We'd just get in trouble for being in here,” Scootaloo insisted.

“Probably,” Sweetie Belle agreed, stifling a yawn, “But don’t you girls get the feeling that it was really important?”

“Actually Sweetie Belle, Ah just want to put this all behind us, ya know?”

“Agreed,” Scootaloo said, “Let’s just get to bed and forget about this in the morning. There’s probably nothing else to find anyway.”

Sweetie Belle scowled at them, but said nothing.

C • M • C

Sweetie Belle turned over in her sleep, struggling to bury herself in the blanket. She could feel the bed sheets around her, but they were so distant.

In her mind, she was sitting in the living room, watching pictures burn in the fire. Her daddy was going to be so mad when he found out.

Her reflection in the mirror was shattered. Dry blood was smeared from the center of the crack, trailing down the vanity and across the floor. Someone would have to clean that up. Apple Bloom would do it.

Except Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had run off together, leaving her with this miss. Why were they leaving her? Didn’t they love her? No, of course no. They never had. They were just waiting for her to slip up so they could get away.

With a groan, Sweetie Belle pushed her face deeper into her pillow.

Why did she feel so hot?

C • M • C

The old house loomed over them, windows large and empty and the front door wide open. A cold seeped out, of the empty space, and something could be seen moving within.

Scootaloo flared her wings and smirked.

“Come on Cutie Mark Crusaders!” she cried. Almost as if in response, the house seemed to shrink ever so slightly. The shadows receded, and a warm breeze descended over them.

“Apple Bloom, you take the lead,” Scootaloo said, holding out a burning lantern for Apple Bloom to take. She never took her eyes off of the door, as if to dare it to blink first.

“Apple Bloom?”

Her smile faltered as she shook the lantern. Why wasn’t Apple Bloom responding?

Chancing a small glance over, Scootaloo saw Apple Bloom, lit only by the tiny flicker of the lantern.

Only it wasn’t her. It looked like her. It wore her skin. But the light bounced off her wide blue eyes, illuminating the sharp curved horn that poked through the skin on her forehead. She opened her mouth to expose sharp pointed fangs and a bright blue tongue.

It was getting colder. When Scootaloo looked back up at the house it was closer, leaning over her as if about to topple. The shadows moved in, and a cold hoof touched her shoulder.

Scootaloo’s breathing was rapid and shallow. All her muscles were tense, and she gripped the blanket tightly in her hooves.

Where in Equestia was she?

It took a moment, but she remembered: she was in that darned haunted house. But she was there with her friends. Her real friends. As long as they were together, she’d be safe.

Probably.

“Apple Bloom?” She whispered. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. She tried licking her lips, but didn’t feel like it did any good.

It was too dark to see anything, but Apple Bloom was right beside her. Scootaloo leaned in, hoping that maybe she’d be heard a little better.

“Apple Bloom, are you awake?”

There was no response.

Quivering slightly, Scootaloo reached out with her hoof, feeling around until she found Apple Bloom’s. She grabbed the other hoof, probably a bit more forcefully than she meant too, and felt a reassuring squeeze back.

“You know, Apple Bloom,” she began, struggling to find the words for what she wanted to say, “I never really thought that I’d find friends as good as you or Sweetie Belle. None of the other pegasi liked being around me; I was unpopular because I couldn’t fly as well as they could. Heh, it’s kind of funny: if you had asked me a couple years ago, I probably would have said there’s no way I’d ever be friends with a unicorn and an earth pony. And I suppose if we were anywhere but Ponyville I probably wouldn’t have.”

She stopped for a moment, but Apple Bloom didn’t reply. Scootaloo bit her lip and waited. But nothing came, and her grip on Scootaloo’s hoof didn’t lessen at all. So, with a deep breath first, Scootaloo continued.

“I know you probably think that I’m awful for thinking that way. I try not to, but sometimes I can’t help it. It just feels good to admit it for once, even if you can’t really hear me. I don’t… always feel like I have someone to talk to like you have your sister and your brother. I really wish we had someone we could talk to about Sweetie Belle. I’m… really really worried about her, Apple Bloom.”

Scootaloo wiped away the tears forming into her pillow and tightened her grip on Apple Bloom’s hoof.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on right now, but tomorrow we’re gonna get to the bottom of it, I promise. I don’t know if you’re just not answering or you’re really asleep, but I want to say thank you for being there. You two are… you’re almost like family to me. Even after all the arguing over the past few days, I think—”

“Scootaloo?”

Across the room, a flashlight lit up. Scootaloo covered her eyes, letting go of Apple Bloom in the process. Why was Sweetie Belle pointing a flashlight at her anyway? And when, when she called Scootaloo’s name, did she sound so much like Apple Bloom? Actually, why did it look like she was in a bed rather than… on the… couch…?

Scootaloo looked down. In the light of Apple Bloom’s flashlight, she could see that she was lying on the little couch, with the small blanket and Apple Bloom’s pillow.

“No!” Scootaloo screamed, flinging herself from the couch and onto the floor, staring at her empty hoof with revulsion. “No! No! Who’s hoof was I holding?”

“Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom cried, rushing over to pull her friend up. “What are ya talking about?”

“What’s going on?” Sweetie Belle asked, sitting up in bed. She looked disheveled and weary.

“There was somepony with me,” Scootaloo said, sobbing, “Somebody was holding my hoof.”

“Ya were just dreaming,” Apple Bloom insisted.

“No!” Scootaloo said, pushing through the tears, “I felt them. They squeezed my hoof. I… I thought it was you.”

“Me?” Apple Bloom asked, “Why… why did ya think ya were holding my hoof?”

Scootaloo said nothing.

“Scootaloo?”

“Look, it’s not important,” she decided, “I’m sorry. Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Um, actually, Ah need to use the toilet,” Apple Bloom admitted.

Sweetie Belle spoke up, “Does that mean we all have to go?”

Apple Bloom blushed in reply.

“Okay,” Scootaloo said, struggling to steady herself, “Let’s stay together. I think we’d all feel a little better, you know?”

Sweetie Belle sighed, but nodded. “Alright,” she said, “I’m getting up.”

This was the first (and hopefully only) time that the three fillies had ever felt the need to be in the bathroom together. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle faced the door while Apple Bloom used the toilet, pricking their ears up every time the house settled. None of them spoke, presumably out of embarrassment.

Scootaloo thought about what she had said in the dark. A part of her insisted that if she’d actually believed Apple Bloom could hear her, she wouldn’t have said anything. Scootaloo wanted to argue with that part of her, to say with absolute certainty that she would one day tell her friends everything they meant to her. She wanted to… but there was no guarantee which side would win that battle.

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed, and the three of them jumped slightly in response. Scootaloo glanced over at Sweetie Belle, who was frozen in place with her eyes wide open.

The Crusaders huddled close together on their way back to the room, keeping their eyes and their remaining flashlight focused firmly in front of them.

“Well,” Scootaloo began, searching for something to lighten the mood, “I guess we’re not Cutie Mark Crusader Bathroom Attendants.”

“Mm-hm,” Apple Bloom grunted in reply. Sweetie Belle said nothing.

Only once the group was safely back in its room did the three of them separate.

Apple Bloom glanced between the bed and Scootaloo, and said, “Ya can sleep in the bed for the rest of the night if ya want, Scoots. Ah’ll sleep on the couch.”

Just say no, Scootaloo told herself, Show her that you’re braver than that.

“Thanks, Apple Bloom,” she said.

Then suddenly she was being enveloped in a pair of white forelegs, causing Scootaloo to tense up reflexively.

“It’s okay, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle told her, “We’re all a little scared.”

Scootaloo relaxed a little, though she wasn’t sure what prompted the sudden hug.

“Thanks Sweetie Belle,” she said, trying her best to avoid squirming.

She couldn’t see it, but Sweetie Belle was frowning. There was something about the way Scootaloo said it that made her gratitude feel… empty. Like she was just pretending. Why didn’t Sassy—Scootaloo, not Sassy—trust her?

C • M • C

It took Apple Bloom a few minutes to get comfortable on the small couch. Scootaloo’s story about the phantom limb sat on the front of her mind, and while she knew it had all been in her head Apple Bloom didn’t really want to fall asleep facing the open air. She ended up her nose in the dusty fabric and the fur on the back of her neck sticking up.

If she could just run a little faster she’d get away. It was right on her heels. It ran like a pony but made no sound as its hooves hit the earth.

Her sister’s room was just down the hallway.

She could feel its breath on the back of her neck.

The door swung open at her touch and slammed shut behind her. She was safe.

“Apple Bloom?” her sister asked, “What’s wrong?”

Apple Bloom leapt forward into her sister’s arms, sobbing. Applejack held onto her tightly.

“Now, now, Apple Bloom, don’t cry.”

A little too tightly.

“Apple… jack,” Apple Bloom wheezed.

“Shh… don’t talk. I don’t wanna hear any of those filthy lies ya been spewing.”

Apple Bloom tried to pull away, but the grip around her neck tightened.

“You’re not even a real Apple, ya little—”

Apple Bloom was shaking.

It was dark and she was still lying on something rough and musty.

She pushed her face into the fabric of the couch, where she let out a choked sob.

When she’d finally wiped away the last of her tears, Apple Bloom turned over and closed her eyes once more.