The Haunting of Elm House

by Maxima Mea Culpa

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Horror, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 18027

The Cutie Mark Crusaders attempt to discover the truth behind the supposedly haunted house on Elm Avenue, whatever grief it may cause them for doing so.

Never one to refuse a bet, Scootaloo winds up condemning the CMC to a night in a haunted house on the outskirts of Ponyville. But although they dismiss the rumors as just that, there may be something wrong with the house after all, and it may take more than one night for them to figure out what.

Assuming that whatever it is doesn't do them in first.

Special thanks to RaylanKrios and Broman for looking over the plot outline and giving his support.

Published 2015-10-13 21:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-07 17:02:17 UTC

Chapter 1: False Promises

“I do not sleep with a Rainbow Dash doll!”

Scootaloo was red with fury. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle could only barely hold her back. But Diamond Tiara did not look the least bit intimidated, even though the rest of the students in the schoolyard had assumed a respectable distance from the feuding fillies out of fear. Even Silver Spoon herself had started slowly shuffling behind her companion.

“You do too,” Diamond Tiara said, smirking, “I saw it in your saddlebags.”

“Liar!”

“Scootaloo, calm yerself,” Apple Bloom begged. Turning to Diamond Tiara, she said, “Ya big bully, quit picking on other ponies.”

Silver Spoon, regaining some of her bravado, quickly snapped back, “Like it’s our fault that little crybaby can’t handle a joke. If you hadn’t come to his rescue—”

“His name is Rumble, you jerk!” Sweetie Belle shouted, “And he is not a crybaby!”

“Oh yeah, Diamond Tiara, we forgot: the little blank flanks are in love.”

“Y-you take that back!” Sweetie Belle cried.

Diamond Tiara snorted. “Make us,” she challenged. “Actually,” she said, pretending to ponder the thought, “from the way you fond over him, maybe you’re not actually Sweetie Belle at all. Maybe you’re a—”

“Don’t say it!” Scootaloo warned her, as Apple Bloom finally managed to pin her to the ground.

“—changeling.”

“That's enough!” Apple Bloom shouted, moving between Diamond Tiara and Sweetie Belle, “Ya bullies are going to leave us, all of us, alone fer good. Ya here me?”

“Or what? You’ll tell your mommy? Oh that’s right, I forgot. But you’ll just run crying to your sister anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

For a moment Apple Bloom saw red. When she came to Sweetie Belle was holding her by the tail, having foiled her attempt to lunge at Diamond Tiara and make her pay for that.

“In fact,” Silver Spoon chimed in, “Maybe all three of you are changelings. I mean, it would explain why you still don’t have your cutie marks. And it wouldn’t be too hard to capture the dorks anyway.”

“I said enough!” Apple Bloom cried, getting back to her hooves. She walked up to Diamond Tiara, who flinched for the first time since she’d started this peeing contest, and said plainly, “Yer done making fun of mah friends.”

Diamond Tiara took a step back, her brow furled and her perpetual smirk gone. Apple Blook took a few steps back, while Silver Spoon leaned in to whisper something in Diamond Tiara’s ear.

And boy was it good.

“Alright, blank flanks,” Diamond Tiara sneered, “That is, if you really are the blank flanks. I thought up an idea. We’ll leave you, and that other dork”—Sweetie Belle snorted derisively—“alone for the rest of the school year, if—and only if—you can stay one night in the haunted house on Elm Avenue.”

There was a gasp from the assembled crowd of students. But before Apple Bloom could so much as open her mouth to ask a very reasonable “what?”, Scootaloo had jumped forward.

“We’ll do it!” she said, “And then you creeps stay out of our manes for the rest of the school year.”

Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara took a moment to process this, and when it finally registered they were positively beaming with surprise. The dorks would spend an entire night in a haunted house, probably get eaten by ghosts or something, and if they survived they’d look like fools for accepting a fake wager.

The bell rang before anyone could get another word in, and the class unanimously turned to head toward the building. Apple Bloom stopped Scootaloo, though, and Sweetie Belle stopped to watch her. Rumble stopped a moment later when he realized what was going on.

“Scootaloo, what were ya thinking?” Apple Bloom asked, “Rushing in like that?”

“We couldn’t say no,” Scootaloo insisted, “You saw them. They were practically calling us cowards.”

“That doesn’t mean ya have to say yes!” Apple Bloom whisper-shouted, not wanting the other students to hear her.

“Yeah Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said, “How are we even gonna do this? It’s not like our parents are gonna let us.”

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow at Sweetie Belle, but said nothing and turned her attention back to Scootaloo.

“We’ll figure something out,” Scootaloo said, pulling herself away from Apple Bloom’s grasp, “Just… let me think about it.”

Scootaloo passed Rumble, who said something about “glad it’s not me” under his breath, and stopped only momentarily at the front door to examine a poster on the wall of the schoolhouse. It had a picture of a changeling, taken just months prior during the attack on Canterlot, fangs bared and wings spread wide, along with a warning about reporting suspicious behavior and asking for ponies’ IDs.

Scootaloo shuddered at the thought of those cold, buggy eyes and the green gunk dripping from its mouth and the warm touch of its breath on her face—

A light touch caused Scootaloo to jump. She swung around to face Sweetie Belle, who was giving her a quizzing look.

“You alright?” she asked.

Scootaloo nodded and pulled away.

C • M • C

The final bell of the day made Scootaloo groaned. It had nothing to do with the day being over either. She’d just finally figured out the only option they could take, and neither of her friends were going to like it.

She threw on her saddlebags and joined her friends outside the front door.

“So? You going to do it or what?”

The three looked over to Snips. He was standing there with the other students, looking expectant.

“Yeah,” Diamond Tiara quipped, “Or are you going to chicken out? Ooh, maybe one of you can get your cutie mark in being a pansy!”

A few other students laughed at this.

Scootaloo was livid. And when she glanced over at the other she could see that Sweetie Belle was hurt.

Apple Bloom looked ready to say something, but Scootaloo didn’t wait before blurting out, “Of course we’re going to do it, you liar! It’s just a stupid old house!”

“A haunted house,” Diamond Tiara pointed out, smirking.

“That’s just a superstition!” Scootaloo shot back.

“We’ll see about that, blank flanks.”

“You’ll be at home, curled up in a queen-sized bed,” Scootaloo muttered bitterly, not content to let the bully get the last word in.

As the other students went their separate ways, the Cutie Mark Crusaders huddled together to come up with some sort of plan.

“Well Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked. From the displeasure written on her face, Scootaloo could only assume they’d come to the same conclusion.

“We need to tell our elders that we’re staying at each other’s houses for a ‘study-sleepover,’” she said.

Apple Bloom added, “The two of ya can say yer staying at mah place, and I’ll tell Applejack we’re staying at Sweetie Belle’s.”

She did not look any more comfortable now that she’d said it out loud. Scootaloo suspected that it might have something to do with lying to her older sister. Instead of confront her about it, though, Scootaloo simply nodded in agreement.

Sweetie Belle, however, had to ask, “Isn’t it dangerous to lie to our pa—elders? What if something goes wrong and they need to know where we are?”

“It’s just for one night,” Scootaloo told her, “So what if your parents don’t know where you are?”

“Easy for you to say!” Sweetie Belle blurted back. But as soon as it left her mouth, she looked stunned at what she’d said. She bowed her head and mumbled a brief apology. When Scootaloo didn’t answer, Sweetie Belle glanced up, but had to look away at the hurt welling up in her friend’s eyes.

“Apple Bloom!” Applejack’s voice rang out, “There y’all are! What are ya fillies waiting on?”

Apple Bloom started at the sound of her sister’s voice. She was walking up to them, looking confused as to why Apple Bloom hadn’t met her at the fencepost yet. She’d promised to help haul supplies back to the farm after school.

“I’m coming!” Apple Bloom cried back. Turning to the other two, she asked, “Are ya both sure about this?”

She got a firm nod from Scootaloo and a hesitant one from Sweetie Belle, but it was all she needed.

“Good,” she said, “We’ll meet at the edge of the street just before sundown. If we’re not all there… then we’ll just call it off.”

Then Apple Bloom took a deep breath and smiled, trying to hide her true feelings from her sister as she ran up to meet her. They left, and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stood alone outside the schoolhouse. At any moment Miss Cheerilee would step out and shoo them away, so Sweetie Belle didn’t have time to hesitate.

“Listen, Scootaloo, I’m really sorry about what I—”

“Please don’t talk about it,” Scootaloo said, looking away, “Anywho, I got to get home. See you tonight.”

Sweetie Belle wasn’t sure how long she stood there along, even after Scootaloo had moved beyond her range of sight, but eventually Miss Cheerliee did step outside and tell her to run on home. She took the long way. The scolding she’d get for being late wouldn’t be nearly what she’d earned.

C • M • C

It was time. Her chores were done but dinner wasn’t yet on the oven, so it was the perfect time for Apple Bloom to ask. Her sister was sitting on the porch, trying to get the outside lantern down so she could change the candle inside.

“Hey Applejack?” Apple Bloom began.

“Yeah, Apple Bloom?”

“The girls and I were talking earlier today, ya see, and we didn’t do so good on our last test. We were wondering… Scootaloo is spending the night at Sweetie Belle’s, and we were wondering if ya’d let me go so we could study together?”

Applejack didn’t respond right away. She stopped fiddling with the lantern to look down at her little sister, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Well… ya know I don’t like ya falling behind on yer schoolwork. And if Scootaloo is already gonna be there, I suppose it’ll probably be alright with Sweetie Belle’s folks. But ya have to promise me that y’all are just gonna study ya hear me? No fooling around, and no Crusading while yer there.”

“I p-promise,” Apple Bloom choked. She cleared her throat, offering, “Sorry. I had to cough.”

“Now don’t ya be getting sick on me, ya hear?” Applejack said, “We ain’t got time fer another ‘Apple Family Flu’ like last year.”

Then she chose to ignore the lantern entirely and got back down on all fours, wrapping one hoof around Apple Bloom’s neck.

“Ya know I’m mighty proud of ya, sis. Fer putting more work into yer studies. Ya and yer friends have done a lot of growing up in the last few months, haven’t ya?”

Apple Bloom nodded along, trying not to give away that all her breath had caught itself in her throat and was now trying to suffocate her for letting a lie past her lips.

“Now ya get ready to go while I… figure out how Big Mac got this thing up here in the first place.”

Applejack returned to grappling with the lantern while Apple Bloom ducked inside, where she let out the breath that had been trying to kill her.

Well, she’d done it. She’d successfully lied to her sister. And now Applejack was proud of her.

It made her want to throw up.

The sound of Applejack’s voice made her jump instead.

“And tell Granny Smith that we won’t have to set yer place at the table tonight!”

“Will do!” Apple Bloom shouted back, her stomach turning at the thought of facing the rest of her family now.

Author's Note

Yeah, so no actual haunted house in the first chapter. Sorry, but it was getting pretty long and I'm already pretty behind on uploading this to begin with. The next chapter is all haunted house, though! I hope to have it up by Thursday, actually.

To clarify about the setting, this takes place not long after season 2 ends, hence the reference to the changeling invasion. I was kind of amazed to realize that I've never seen anyone talk about the effect it must have had on the Cutie Mark Crusaders, who were there at the time! But that's not really the focus of this story, really, at least not a very big focus.

Let me know what you think about it so far, even if it is just setup and no payoff at this point.

Chapter 2: Sleepover in a Haunted House

The sun was just far enough in the west to give the shadows a threatening look by the time the three had assembled at the end of Elm Avenue. Scootaloo was the last to arrive, even though she had come on her scooter.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling her helmet off, “Couldn’t get away as fast as I thought.”

Apple Bloom thought Scootaloo was intentionally avoiding Sweetie Belle’s gaze but made no comment.

“So,” she said, “We’re all here now. I guess we should get going.”

The old house was visible even from a distance. There were only a few houses on this street, with a lot of space between each of them, but the one they wanted was the largest and oldest by far. It wasn’t until they stood in its shadow looking up, though, gazing up at the mass of wood with a mix of awe and apprehension, that they really understood just how grand it was. Granted, the siding was falling off in places, and a few windows were broken, and the roof looked like it needed an overhaul, and the lawn was uncut, but there was a sense of majesty about the house that even time itself couldn’t diminish. It knew how great it once was and it didn’t care what they or anypony else thought about it now.

Apple Bloom remembered that the Elm family, for whom the street was named after, had been one of the first families to move into Ponyville, way back when it was a measly collection of shops and shacks. They were groundskeepers at Canterlot Castle for generations, and a small branch—not as rich as Diamond Tiara’s family, sure, but rich enough to convince other rich ponies to move into Ponyville—were told by Celestia herself to tend the wilderness around Ponyville, to keep it under control. Under their care, the land had thrived. The Apple family’s many orchards were at least somewhat owed to the Elm family’s aid. The Everfree Forest even had begun to shrink for the first time in nearly a thousand years.

And then the family… they what, exactly?

“Uh, girls?” Apple Bloom said, “Do either of ya know what happened to the Elm family?”

“Um… no.”

“The what?”

Apple Bloom explained, “Because Granny Smith told me about how they came to Ponyville, but she never really finished the story. I don’t know what happened to them.”

“Does it matter?” Scootaloo asked, still watching the house like it was going to jump forward and eat her.

Apple Bloom thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

“I guess not,” she murmured, taking a tentative step onto the path leading to the front door.

Immediately a chill descended upon her. She gritted he teeth, telling herself it’s just yer imagination, Apple Bloom, and pushed on. The others followed behind her, their breathing shallow.

Without hesitation, Apple Bloom ascended the front porch, wincing as the rough wood bit into the soft underside of her hoof. She ignored the pain, though Sweetie Belle behind her let out a soft “ow” and turned her attention to the front door before her.

It’s just superstition, she told herself, echoing Scootaloo’s words from earlier, [There ain’t even no such thing as ghosts.

Her stomach turned in disagreement.

“Maybe the door’s locked,” Sweetie Belle murmured hopefully from behind her.

“Check the handle,” Apple Bloom whispered back.

“You do it; you’re closer.”

“But I don’t have magic.”

“…oh, right.”

A thin aura surrounded the ancient door handle. When Apple Bloom glanced over, a look of strained determination was plastered across Sweetie Belle’s face.

“It’s hopeless,” she said, giving up.

Scootaloo just rolled her eyes and pushed Apple Bloom to the side so she could grab the handle in her hoof. As soon as she touched the tarnished metal, though, she paused and all the color drained from her face.

“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom breathed, “Are you okay?” When she didn’t reply, Apple Bloom poked her once, gently. “Scootaloo, you’re scaring me.”

Then Scootaloo shook her head and her color returned.

“Nah, I’m fine,” she insisted quietly, pressing down on the handle, “Just thought I… just thought there was something…”

The door swung inward, revealing the dark interior of the house. For a moment, they just stood there gazing into the darkness.

“You go in first, Apple Bloom.”

“Me? You were the one who opened the door,” Apple Bloom hissed back.

“What? Are you scared?” Scootaloo asked.

“I’m not scared!” Apple Bloom told her, “What about you?”

“Well I’m not scared either,” Scootaloo replied.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sweetie Belle asked, “Then why are we all whispering?”

None of them had an answer.

Slwoly, Apple Bloom took the first step into the mansion. Her hooftsep did not echo across the house like she expected, but instead sounded strangely muted against the hardwood floor. A few more steps and she was inside, kicking up little clouds of dust in her wake.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the evening light filtering in through the windows was just enough to see by for the moment. The entrance hallway was dusty. There were a few pictures hanging from the wall at odd angles, though they were too dirty to make out, and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were a few doors along the hallway, as well as a staircase leading to the second floor.

It was dark, but it was a normal house on the inside.

“Come on in girls,” she said, relief evident in her voice, “It’s all good in here.”

A sudden bright light startled Apple Bloom, but it was just the flashlight Sweetie Bell was holding in her mouth.

“It’s dark in here,” came her muffled voice.

“You bring any more of those?” Scootaloo asked, joining the two of them inside. Her wings were ruffled, like whenever she was about to run away from whatever sleeping animal they’d tried prodding that day.

Sweetie Belle shook her head, momentarily blinding the two of them with her light.

“Here, let me hold the flashlight,” Apple Bloom insisted.

Sweetie Belle just shrugged and passed it over.

“Alright,” Scootaloo said, rubbing her eyes, “Let’s get this over with.

The tried the nearest door on their left. Apple Bloom led, pushing the door open and scanning it with the flashlight.

“It’s a den,” Scootaloo observe.

“You mean a living room?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Family room,” Apple Bloom tried to mumble in reply. The flashlight quivered as she spoke.

Sweetie Belle wandered over to the couches and poked at them, as if checking for bugs hidden in the cushioning. Scootaloo moved closer to the fireplace, and shivered.

“Girls, come over here,” she said, “It’s real cold.”

They did as she asked, Apple Bloom setting the flashlight down on the coffee table to rest her jaw. Sweetie Belle moved right in front of the fireplace.

“It is cold,” she agreed.

“Must be coming from the fireplace,” Apple Bloom suggested.

Sweetie Belle made to poke her head into the fireplace to check it out, and Apple Bloom’s gaze wandered upward. An old portrait of two ponies, probably married, in fine evening-wear hung over the mantle. They looked downward at Apple Bloom, as if judging her for intruding on their home.

Apple Bloom gulped, telling herself again that she was just fooling herself.

Then Scootaloo cried out, “Hey guys, check this out!”

She’d move the flashlight so it was pointed at a record player in the corner where she stood. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle eagerly rushed over, and Scootaloo frowned.

“I don’t see any records, though,” she lamented.

The other two gave a disappointed “aww” and slumped over. A little bit of music would have helped to lighten the mood.

Apple Bloom saw something flicker in the corner of her eye. She dismissed it as candlelight until she remembered that they weren’t using a candle. When she looked, though, there was nothing but the still darkness.

Come on Apple Bloom, yer not a little filly anymore, she thought, Yer just imagining things.

Scootaloo tapped a hoof against the record player.

“It’s probably broken anyway,” she said, turning away.

Apple Bloom kept her eyes peeled for movement as they progressed down the hall to the next room further down the hall. She could hear Sweetie Belle humming softly to herself behind her. It was awfully soothing.

“This house is really pretty,” Sweetie Belle admitted as they entered the next room.

“Yeah, sure,” Scootaloo agreed dismissively, “What’s this room?”

There was a lot of fancy furniture sitting in this room, and though it was all covered with dust it was clearly still worth a lot. Apple Bloom couldn’t be sure why anypony would leave it here instead of taking it with them when they left.

Sweetie Belle looked around at the chairs and table, and at the couple of couches sitting about. It was a little hard to do with the flashlight pointing every which way, but she was still able to make out enough of the rugs on the hardwood and the scattered cabinets and wall arts.

There was a second door in the mystery room, but despite Scootaloo’s jiggling of the handle it remained locked against her.

Apple Bloom sat the flashlight down again and rubbed her sore jaw. There had to be an easier way to do this.

“I got it!” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“Got what?”

“It’s a drawing room!”

Her discovery was met with confused silence.

“I heard my sister talking about one of the rooms in her store that was just for ‘entertaining guests.’ It had a lot of fancy furniture and she didn’t use it for anything except when visitors showed up. She called it a drawing room.”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked.

“I dunno,” Sweetie Belle said, shrugging, “I guess grown-ups like having arts and crafts time too.”

“I don’t think that’s right, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom said, “Most adults I know don’t like drawing.”

“That’s because your family spends too much time doing chores,” she retorted playfully.

Scootaloo was shifting back and forth uneasily.

“Can we go now?” she whined.

“Yeah, sure,” Apple Bloom said, “There’s nothing here...”

But when she picked up the flashlight again, she paused. Then she pointed at a spot on the floor, where the light was shining. There were scratch marks on the ground next to one of the decorative cabinets.

“Someone’s moved it,” she said through the flashlight, “Push it back.”

“You think there’s something behind it?” Scootaloo asked.

Apple Bloom set the flashlight down again and replied, “Can’t imagine why anypony would move it otherwise.”

The three of them together pushed at the cabinet. It made a loud scratching noise as it moved, but it moved with surprising ease under their weight.

“Whoa, check this out!”

There was a huge dent in the wall, easily the size of one of their heads. Something had clearly been bashed against the wall there, and the furniture had been moved to cover it up.

“What do you think did this?” Sweetie Belle said, running a hoof over the cracked plaster.

“Not sure,” Scootaloo replied, “Maybe a ball? A big, hard ball.”

“What knuckleheads would try to play ball inside somepony’s house?” Apple Bloom asked.

“…us,” Sweetie Belle reminded her, inciting laughter from all three of them.

As their chuckling died down, however, the three turned to face the other end of the room.

“Did you hear that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom picked up the flashlight and moved to the other side of the room, where the locked door stood. Her friends followed closely.

A loud scratching noise caused them to jump and halt where they were. Apple Bloom almost dropped the flashlight, but managed to hold it by the skin of her teeth.

The scratching sound continued. Apple Bloom glanced over at Scootaloo, who was shaking slightly. When she saw Apple Bloom looking at her, she tightened her expression into one of determination and moved forward.

“It’s come through the door,” she confirmed, leaning in as close as she dared.

“Probably mice,” Apple Bloom suggested, “We get them in the barn sometimes. And in the house.”

Sweetie Belle nodded in agreement, but didn’t look all that convinced. Scootaloo was all too eager to get away from the locked door to respond. Apple Bloom didn’t blame her.

Immediately across the hall from the drawing room was the door that led to the kitchen. It seemed like a fairly standard kitchen, if a bit old. They found a few ovens and stoves. There were still dirty dishes in the sink.

“It’s cold in here too,” Scootaloo said, pulling at the handle of the door to the backyard. It was bolted shut.

“But it’s only at certain spots,” Sweetie Belle pointed out.

“It's an old house,” Apple Bloom reminded them, “Probably has a bunch of holes. I'm sure it could use some touching up.”

“It's not gonna fall down on us, is it?!” Sweetie Belle cried.

“No, no,” Apple Bloom quickly assured her, “I'm... I'm sure it won't.”

She ignored the shiver running down her spine.

“If it's all the same,” Scootaloo suggested, “let's not try to be Cutie Mark Crusaders Home Renovators, okay?”

“Okay,” the other two agreed in unison.

The kitchen had a door directly into the dining room. There was a long table with many chairs, and a large display case for the fine china. Apple Bloom’s heart sank. Furniture, maybe, but nopony leaves a house without taking their fine china.

A large window with a broken pane of glass looked out over the front lawn. Apple Bloom set the flashlight down and pulled back the curtain to glance down at the street below. The sun hadn’t set yet, but it was getting too dark to see much.

Apple Bloom turned back at the sound of Scootaloo’s voice.

“I wonder what they ate in here,” she said.

“Probably the same stuff my sister eats,” Sweetie Belle said. Putting on her best Rarity impression, she continued, “Scootaloo dear, do try the caviar, it’s simply divine. Wash it down with this tea I imported from the Dragon Empire.”

As they chuckled at her impersonation, though, another sound caught there ear.

It was the sound of hoofsteps.

For a moment, none of them so much as breathed. But the sound didn’t return.

“S'also got an echo,” Apple Bloom decided with a nervous giggle. Scootaloo nodded, quivering, while Sweetie Belle just glanced around.

The doorway from the dining room brought them back to the front door, where they started. The only other doorway on the first floor opened to a small water-closet. It was nothing more than a dusty sink and toilet bowel.

Apple Bloom led the way upstairs. Each step seemed to groan louder than the last, and each one seemed to bend even more under her weight. Apple Bloom forced herself to breathe slowly and keep moving, insisting to herself that she was fine.

The first room they tried upstairs turned out to be a full bathroom.

“Anypony need to use the toilet?” Scootaloo halfheartedly joked.

The very next room was a bedroom. The bed was made and all the beside tables were empty, as was the wardrobe.

“Spare bedroom,” Sweetie Belle decided.

As they left, closing the door on their way out, Scootaloo asked, “Are we actually going to lie down and sleep anytime soon?”

“Of course we are,” Apple Bloom told her, “We just want to scope the entire house first.”

Sweetie Belle managed to open the next door with her magic. She had to wipe the sweat from her brow afterward, but it was an improvement.

“I know this one,” Scootaloo chimed in, “This is the master bedroom.”

“Right,” Sweetie Belle told her, still rubbing her forehead.

“There’s a balcony too,” Apple Bloom eagerly pointed out. She could still see a bit of setting sun through the glass doors.

When she tried the balcony door, she found it unlocked and slid it open. Taking a deep breath, she put one hoof out on the old wooden balcony and put her weight on it.

“Come on out, you guys,” she said, stepping out fully onto the deck.

It was starting to get cold, but the evening breeze still felt pretty good.

Very slowly, her friends managed to summon up the courage to join her.

“It’s beautiful,” Sweetie Belle said, watching the orange skies fade to purple.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Scootaloo said, but she continued to watch as well.

After a few minutes, the sun was wholly beyond the horizon and the skies had turned a dark blue. The starts were winking into place in the sky.

Another chilly breeze blew across them, causing Apple Bloom to shiver.

“Come on,” she said, “Let's keep going.”

Apple Bloom had almost forgotten how depressing the inside of the house was. The bed was a little messy, as if somepony had forgotten to make it when they woke up. A lamp had fallen over onto the ground. But what caught all their attentions was the vanity.

Apple Bloom brought the flashlight closer and then shrunk away. The vanity mirror was cracked. Something had hit the middle of the mirror and broke it.

There was a red stain on in the center of the fracture.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sweetie Belle said, “I don’t like this room. It makes me feel… weird.”

Apple Bloom made doubly sure that the bedroom door was all the way closed before they moved on.

“This door is locked,” Scootaloo said, already jiggling the next doorknob.

“That leaves just one more,” Sweetie Belle said, reaching up and grabbing the handle in her hoof. The door swung open easily at her touch.

Apple Bloom led them into the dark room. The floor was carpeted, and a bed took up a large portion of the room. There was a candle on the nightstand, Apple Bloom noticed. Everything was covered in dust, naturally, but it wasn’t too thick to be more than simply annoying.

She couldn’t see much with just the flashlight, but Apple Bloom thought this looked like a child’s room. The blanket on the bed was blue with lightning bolts on it. The paint on the walls was fading, but it was sky blue with white clouds painted across it.

Scootaloo exclaimed with delight, “This was a pegasus’ room.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed, “I like it here. It feels safe.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this house,” Apple Bloom reminded her. Still, she set her own bags down on the bed, sneezing at the dust it kicked up, and opened them up to pull out her things.

“What did ya girls bring?” she asked, pulling out the three candlesticks she’d brought.

“I brought a pillow and a blanket and a sandwich,” Scootaloo said.

“Did you bring your Rainbow Dash doll?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Scootaloo only blushed and nodded.

Apple Bloom began setting the candles up strategically across the room so they’d have light, and added, “I brought a few caramel apples for us to eat. Also a few oats for dinner. What did ya bring, Sweetie Belle?”

“My snuggie,” she said, “And some cold pizza. And a water bottle.”

“You brought cold pizza?” Scootaloo asked.

“You brought a sandwich.”

“Girls, don’t be fighting,” Apple Bloom said, grabbing a match to light the first candle.

“They started it!” they cried in unison.

“I don’t care,” Apple Bloom said, moving over to the next candle in line, “I shouldn’t be treating ya two like children.”

“Yes ma’am,” they chanted, bowing their heads in shame before the three burst into laughter.

“Alright,” Scootaloo said, grabbing her sandwich and unwrapping it, “The sooner we eat the sooner we can get to our caramel apples.”

C • M • C

“Apple Bloom?”

Apple Bloom turned to face her friends. Sweetie Belle still had a bit of caramel around her mouth. She was hunched over, halfway through scribbling something onto her homework in the dim candlelight, but she was looking up at Apple Bloom.

“Sorry,” Apple Bloom said, “I thought…”

She glanced back behind her once again, but there was nopony there. Just the shadows dancing in the candlelight.

Scootaloo, as she finished shoving the last bit of her homework into her own bag, continued, “We’re gonna get to school tomorrow and make those two look like complete fools for sending us out here.”

“Why are they always so mean to us?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“They’re just jealous of how awesome we are.”

“It’s because their parents don’t know how to discipline them,” Apple Bloom said.

“That’s kinda mean to say,” Sweetie Belle said.

Apple Bloom sighed.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle,” she said, “I’m just kinda sick of them is all.”

“Sweetie Belle—flashlight.”

“Hmm? Alright.”

She passed the flashlight to Scootaloo, who flicked it on and scanned around the room. Seeing nothing there, she dropped the flashlight to the ground between them, leaving it on.

When she didn’t say anything, Apple Bloom asked, “Uh, Scootaloo, why did you ask for the flashlight?”

It took her a moment to answer.

“Do either of you feel… like… like somepony’s watching us?”

“Well, to be honest—goshdarnit! There’s not even a draft in here.”

Apple Bloom grabbed the box of matches. It hadn’t been full when she started, but she was going to have some explaining to do when Applejack went to grab a match and discovered that there were only four left.

Well, three now, as Apple Bloom had to relight yet another candle.

“Listening to your sister’s outbursts again?” Scootaloo asked wryly.

“Y’all better not tell her I’ve been using dirty language,” she replied through the match clamped between her teeth.

“That’s not dirty language,” Sweetie Belle said, “I hear my parents talking sometimes. They use words like…”—she shivered—“Sorry. I got the chills for a moment there. Are you sure there’s no draft?”

“I can’t feel anything,” Apple Bloom said, sitting back down.

“Hey, maybe your special talent is finding the direction of the wind.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Scootaloo said, “She’s an earth pony. What would that even look like as a cutie mark?”

“A weather vane?” Apple Bloom suggested. At their confused expressions, she explained, “It’s that thing at the top of my house that spins in the wind.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Sweetie Belle said, “Or maybe she’s just really good at finding things, like how she found that cabinet had been moved. Her cutie mark could be a magnifying glass.”

“That makes more sense for an earth pony to have.”

Apple Bloom had to bite back her next comment. Her sister always said that if she had nothing nice to say she shouldn’t say anything at all.

“What did you say?” Sweetie Belle asked, pulling her attention away from her saddlebags.

“I said that makes more sense for an earth pony to have.”

“No, after that.”

“I didn’t say anything after that.”

“I heard one of you say something else.”

Apple Bloom told her, “We didn’t say anything, Sweetie Belle.”

“Oh, okay.”

She looked uncomfortable. Apple Bloom watched her rub her head with her hoof.

“Are you okay?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied.

C • M • C

Sweetie Belle took a drink of water and looked over at the other two. They were laughing over something she didn’t hear. She smiled at the fun they were having.

She saw them glance her way, and then frowned. Why were they laughing at her? They shouldn’t be laughing at her!

The pain in her head worsened. She groaned and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples to try to relieve the pain.

There was a hoof on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Apple Bloom standing beside her, a look of worry across her face.

“I don’t think yer okay,” Apple Bloom said.

“It’s just a headache,” Sweetie Belle insisted, trying to smile, “It’ll go away with sleep.”

“Maybe we should go to bed then,” Scootaloo suggested, “Besides, it’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.”

“Okay, Since Sweetie Belle is feeling bad, she can sleep on the bed. Scootaloo, you sleep on that couch there.”

“No,” Sweetie Belle said, “It’s okay, really. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked.

“Absolutely. Toss me a blanket.”

Sweetie Belle curled up on the couch, and the other two dusted off the bed before slipping under the covers.

“It’s warm,” Sweetie Belle cooed, already drifting off.

C • M • C

Apple Bloom left her room and headed down the hallway. It was oddly dark, even for the middle of the night. She heard a sound coming from her sister's bedroom. Without hesitation she turned and flung open the door to the master bedroom. A pony stood there, staring at her with a wide grin and cold dead eyes.

“Liar.”

Apple Bloom woke up shaking and breathing hard. It took her a moment to relax and convince herself that it was all just a dream. A really, really nasty dream.

She sighed and turned over, freezing in panic when she heard a moan coming from beside her.

Her first thought was Applejack, but her sister hadn’t let her sleep in the same bed for two years, not since she got over her fear of the boogeymare.

Then she remembered where she was and relaxed. It was just Scootaloo, sound asleep. Apple Bloom tried to sit up and crane her neck to get a good look at the couch, but with the candles out it was too dark to see.

Apple Bloom shivered and slid under the blankets again. For this time of year, it shouldn’t be nearly this cold. A fire certainly would have made the house feel a bit more welcoming.

C • M • C

No!

Sweetie Belle sat bolt-upright on the couch. The pain in her head had died down a bit, at least.

She lied back down and stared up at the ceiling. There was something wrong, something tugging at her gut. She’d lost something, but she couldn’t remember what.

A sound caused her to tense up.

[In and out, she reminded herself, Breathe slowly.

That seemed to help a little. The sound came again—a low murmur.

“Apple Bloom, is that you?” she asked, “Scootaloo?”

They didn’t respond, but the whispers continued.

“Girls? Girls, answer me.”

The sound stopped.

“Apple Bloom?”

She could feel her face turning red. How dare they ignore her? They thought they could just shovel her onto this couch and pretend she didn’t exist?

No, no that wasn’t right. Sweetie Belle’s anger dissolved and she closed her eyes again. She had even offered to take the couch.

How could she even imagine that they would be that mean to her?

C • M • C

Scootaloo was having trouble paying attention in class. The words on the board just seemed to meld into incomprehensible scribbles. Why did it matter anyway? When was she ever going to need to know the history of unicorn blah blah blah in her life?

A buzzing sound came from behind her and Scootaloo’s heart sank. She spun around in her chair, and sitting right behind her was a changeling, its fangs bared and its lifeless eyes trained right on her.

“What’s wrong Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle asked, but when Scootaloo turned to face her there was a changeling in her seat, scowling at Scootaloo.

The classroom was full of changelings, each one turned to glare at Scootaloo. She looked around, but there were no more real ponies in the classroom. She looked at the board.

‘How to eat a pony,’ the chalk read.

“Well well well,” Cheerilee said, and when Scootaloo looked up it was Queen Chrysalis looking back down at her. “It looks like we got a faker here, boys and girls. And you know what we do to fakers.”

Every changeling in the room jumped out of their seat and raced toward Scootaloo, their mouths open wide.

Scootaloo stirred and turned over in her half-away state. Her heart was still pounding. She clutched the homemade doll in her grip even tighter than before and tried to fall into a more comfortable sleep.

The sound of hoofsteps came through the door.

Who in the hay is walking around at—

Her eyes shot wide open and her heart skipped a beat. A quick reach to the other side of the bed proved that Apple Bloom was still sleeping next to her, and by sitting up and squinting her eyes Scootaloo could make out the shape of a small filly on the couch.

The hoofsteps stopped, and then somepony began rapping at the door.

Scootaloo ducked below the covers and squeezed her doll tighter than ever.

Author's Note

Sorry this is a day late. It’s significantly longer than I would have hoped, but at least it turned out okay. I considered breaking it up into yet another chapter, but I don’t think it’s so long that you guys won’t read it.

So this is the first night in the house, and the chapter that pretty much makes or breaks this story, I think. Don’t worry, they’ll definitely encounter more as it goes along, but this chapter sets the mood and clues for what happens later. If you weren’t at least a little creeped out now, I might be in trouble.

On that note, if anyone out there with more experience writing horror (that is, anyone whose written any horror at all) has any suggestions on how I can improve, feel free to share.

Chapter 3: Hiding the Truth

A pony’s internal clock can be a powerful thing. As always when she was away from home, Apple Bloom still got up before the sunrise. She stretched outand slid out fo bed, reaching out and pulling back the moth-eaten curtains to allow twilight into the room.

She walked around the bed and nudged Scootaloo awake.

“Not now, Apple Bloom” Scootaloo said, waving her away and hugging her toy. After so many sleepovers, she had come to recognize Apple Bloom’s “it’s morning, ya goof” poke instantly.

“Yes now,” Apple Bloom replied, grabbing the blanket in her mouth and yanking it off of her friend.

Scootaloo grumbled about the cold while Apple Bloom went over to wake up Sweetie Belle.

“Come on girls,” she said, “We have to get ready for school.”

“That’s why we don’t do sleepovers on school nights,” Sweetie Belle reminded her, yawning and rubbing her head.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah… no, not really.” She rubbed her temples with her hooves. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Apple Bloom said, “Now let’s pack it up.”

Morning or not, it was still too dark in the house to walk around without a flashlight. Apple Bloom took the lead, the stairs still groaning under her hooves as she walked over them, and swiftly out the front door.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon. Hoping nopony was watching, they scurried down the path until they were on the sidewalk beneath the house.

Looking back up at it in the morning light, the house seemed to have a whole new appearance.

“We did it,” Apple Bloom said.

“We did,” Scootaloo agreed, smirking, “And you know what that means?”

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle cried, “Now we don’t have to worry about Diamond Tiara for the whole rest of the year!”

“Come on!” Scootaloo said, “Let’s go. I want to see the look on their faces. So much for their haunted house.”

They all laughed. Apple Bloom added, “So that makes us the...”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Haunted House Heroes?”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Haunted House Homewreckers?”

“No... not quite.”

“Debunkers?” Sweetie Belle suggested.

“What does that mean?”

“I think it means to prove something wrong. Like the idea of a haunted house.”

“That works.”

“Yeah.”

The three put their hooves together and gave out a cheer: “Cutie Mark Crusader Haunted House Debunkers!”

C • M • C

“Did you do it?”

“What was it like?”

“Did you see any ghosts?!”

“How many were there?!”

“Did you get in trouble?”

The three had barely set hoof into the schoolyard when they were set upon by their fellow classmates. Scootaloo was more than willing to answer.

“Oh yeah, we got there and there were, like, a hundred ghosts. They all tried to run at the sight of me, but they just weren't fast enough to get away from the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” She struck a heroic pose to emphasize her heroics.

“What about you Apple Bloom? Did you see anything?”

“It's just an old house. I told y'all there's no such thing as ghosts. Right, Sweetie Belle? Sweetie Belle?”

The filly in question was cowering behind Apple Bloom, holding her head in between her hooves and looking like she was about to have a fit.

“What's wrong with her?”

“Is she okay?”

“Sweetie Belle?”

“She looks sick.”

Rumble, who was standing closer than the rest of the foals, stomped his hooves against the ground and cried out, “Alright, everypony! Give her some space to breath.”

The other students obeyed. Apple Bloom glanced Diamond Tiara through the crowd, looking none too pleased at the attention the three of them were getting.

“Are you okay, Sweetie Belle?” Rumble asked, trying to step closer to her. She just pushed him away, not even trying to respond.

Turning to the other two, he asked, “What happened to her?”

“Her headache started last night,” Apple Bloom explained.

“It couldn't be the house,” Scootaloo said, “That would just be silly.”

“Yeah,” Rumble said, “I guess we'll just have to wait and see if she gets better.” He looked back at her, biting his lip. Then he asked suddenly, “So then Diamond Tiara is going to stop bullying us now, right?”

“Hey, yeah,” Scootaloo said, her expression brightening, “That's right! We'll never have to put up with them again!”

“Ha!”

Diamond Tiara was standing there with Silver Spoon. She had a triumphant smirk on her face. “You didn't really think that we were going to leave you blank flanks alone just because you spent the night in a creepy house. Dear Celestia, you are so gullible!”

“Why you...” Scootaloo couldn't even form the words. Apple Bloom had to plant herself in front of Scootaloo to prevent her from charging forward.

“Yer a dirty liar, Diamond Tiara.”

The bully just rolled her eyes and retorted, “Like I really have to try to impress the likes of you three –”

“Shut. Up!”

Everypony turned to look at Sweetie Belle, who was stepping forward. Her eyes were lit up bright with magic. She approached with her horn down like she wanted to charge them.

She stopped right in front of Diamond Tiara. The bully looked like a filly staring into the mouth of Tartarus.

“We. Don't! CARE!”

In the silence that followed, a pony could have heard a gnat sneeze.

When the bell finally rang, everypony filed into the schoolhouse slowly. Not a word was spoken.

“My, you children are quiet today,” Cheerilee observed.

C • M • C

“Apple Bloom!”

Apple Bloom jerked awake. The other children were laughing, and Cheerilee was giving her a stern look.

“Sorry, Miss Cheerilee.”

“Apple Bloom, you're normally so good at paying attention. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing, Miss Cheerilee.”

“Then don't let it happen again.”

“I won’t,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. A quick glance beside her showed that Scootaloo had her head propped up on her hooves. Her own eyes were red with fatigue and she wasn't paying the least bit of attention.

“Bad dreams?” Apple Bloom asked. Scootaloo just nodded, not even turning to look at her.

The bell rang for recess, and the class shuffled out. Everypony had forgotten the incident from this morning and were chatting happily with each other. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were the only exception. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo silently followed Sweetie Belle outside to sit on the porch and rest.

Scootaloo spoke first: “I guess this was all for nothing.”

“It sure looks that way,” Apple Bloom said, watching Diamond Tiara ordering around a smaller child. She didn’t have the energy left to get up and stumble over there.

“Why do we even listen to them?” Scootaloo asked.

“I don’t know. Fer some reason I thought they had a sense of honesty. I should have known better.”

“My tummy hurts.”

It was the first thing Sweetie Belle had said.

“We’re all tired,” Scootaloo told her, “How’s your head?”

“Better.”

“I can’t wait to get back to my own bed,” Apple Bloom droned.

“We need to go back.”

The other two just stared at Sweetie Belle, disbelieving.

She explained, “There's something wrong with that house. I know you all felt it too. We can't just leave it without knowing what.”

“That's ridiculous. We can't go back!”

“We have to!” She stamped her hoof once. “I don't know if it's ghosts or what, but there must be a reason everypony is so scared of it.”

“Well what can the three of us do?” Apple Bloom demanded.

Sweetie Belle winced and grabbed at her stomach before answering. “We can find out what it is. At least identify it so that somepony can know what's going on in there. Come on, we're the only ones brave enough to do it. What do you say?”

“I dunno...”

“It sounds dangerous.”

“Girls, we need to do this.”

There was a grim air about her that they'd never felt before. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom exchanged worried looks.

“Alright,” Apple Bloom said, “We can check it out one more time, I guess. This weekend, if our elders let us sleep over again. But if we don’t find anything the we’re leaving this all behind us and forgetting about it.”

Sweetie Belle nodded, but it looked like she was only half-paying attention. Something was swirling around in her head.

Apple Bloom sighed and exchanged glances with Scootaloo. At least they had a few days to try to talk Sweetie Belle out of it.

C • M • C

At any moment Applejack could come through her door and see the stuff she had lying out to put in her bag, and wonder what she was doing taking her own pillow, food, and their gas lantern to Sweetie Belle’s house.

The apple fritters were cold now, but she still wrapped them up in one of Granny Smith's cloth napkins anyway so they wouldn't break and spill over everything. They went in on top of the blanket and pillow that would go to whichever one of them slept on the couch that night.

“They'll know we're gonna be sleeping in the same room again, right?” she briefly wondered. Sweetie Belle had said that it felt safe in there, but Apple Bloom tried to ignore that memory. The house was as safe as any other. The only things messing with them were their own tired minds.

But it probably didn't help that none of them knew what had actually happened to the ponies living there.

Apple Bloom set down the little first aid kit she was holding and thought about it. She’d tried brining the subject up to Granny Smith, and then Big Mac, but their responses had been vague and wary, ending with a stern warning about poking her head where it didn’t belong.

If only she could convince Sweetie Belle of that.

Her sister called up for her. “Apple Bloom! Ya need to finish yer chores!”

Apple Bloom scurried to the sound of her older sibling's voice. Sneaking into an abandoned house in the middle of the night was one thing, but she'd get into a lot of trouble for not doing her chores.

“Hurry up, Apple Bloom,” Applejack told her as she made it to the ground floor, “Ya can't leave until yer all done.”

“I know, I know,” Apple Bloom replied, heading for the front door. But as she reached up to grab the handle, she stopped.

Applejack’s answer would probably be the exact same as everypone’s else’s, but it was worth a try. All she was really looking for anyway was some reassurance that there was nothing to worry about.

“Sis,” she said, “What happened to the Elm family? Because I know they were one of the first rich families in Ponyville, but nopony I asked seems to know…”

Applejack was awfully silent.

“Sis?” Apple Bloom asked, turning around.

Applejack's face was as white as a sheet. She wet her lips once and said, “Apple Bloom, I told ya not to be thinking about places like that.”

Apple Bloom's ears drooped. She had to come up with something fast. “I don't,” she lied, “It's just... I heard some kids talking about it today and I was curious –”

“Ain't nothing to be curious about!” Applejack cried, regaining some of her normal composure. Realizing that she was shouting, she added, “I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell at ya. But those kinds of stories y'all hear about aren't real. There's no such thing as haunted houses, and ghosts don't really exist, remember?”

“I remember” Apple Bloom replied, deciding not to mention that she didn’t say a thing about ghosts or haunted houses.

“Good, good,” Applejack was barely paying attention, “Now, go do yer chores. I need to go sit down.”

Whatever the truth was, Applejack knew it. And it scared her.

Sweetie Belle, what did ya get us into? Apple Bloom wondered.

The sound of Applejack’s voice again startled Apple Bloom.

“Hey, do ya need me to walk you to Sweetie Belle’s?”

“No,” Apple Bloom said. Trying to think of a good reason to turn down her sister’s offer, she quickly blurted out, “Scootaloo is gonna pick me up on her scooter!” and dashed out the front door before another word could be said.

C • M • C

Sweetie Belle grunted and pressed down again on the latch of her saddlebags.

“Come on!” she cried, putting all of her weight on it. She wasn't bringing anything more than she had the night before, but this time she'd simply tossed it in her bags with no regards for organization.

“Finally!” she moaned when it snapped in place. Without bothering to even try her magic, she slid the saddlebags onto her back.
She didn’t understand why everything had to be so difficult lately. At least it wasn’t as bad as a few days ago, when she ended up throwing an entire dresser drawer across the room in anger. It was a good thing her parents hadn’t been home to hear that.

Her parents were in the living room, but she didn't so much as glance at them as she made her way to the front door.

She had her hoof on the knob when her father spoke.

“Sweetie, it's getting awfully late,” he said, “Are you sure that you don't want one of us to walk you over?”

“Yeah honey,” her mother chimed in, “we don't mind coming with you if it makes you feel better.”

Sweetie Belle just took a deep breath to calm her nerves and turned the knob.

“Sweetie?” her father asked again.

“I'm fine, daddy,” she cried back to him, swinging the door open.

“Sweetie-poo,” her mother cooed, walking up to her, “Are you not feeling well? Is something wrong?”

“No, I feel fine,” she insisted.

Why wouldn't they just leave her alone?

“Well, okay dear. But we want you to know that we're here for you if you need help.”

Her only response was the slam of the door behind her.

C • M • C

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were waiting for Scootaloo when she arrived. She was running, and in between gasps of breath explained that it was “apparently ‘too late’ for me to be ‘messing around’ on my scooter.”

“Are you girls ready?” Scootaloo asked, once she had caught her breath.

“Yeah, we're ready,” Apple Bloom told her, “Are you feeling okay, Sweetie Belle?”

“Yeah, I am,” Sweetie Belle said, smiling gently, “Just a little... off. Just a headache. I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Scootaloo asked her. Apple Bloom could hear the slightest quaver in her voice.

The sun was already behind the house when they reached it. Now it was nothing more than a silhouette, surrounded by a burning orange glow.

Apple Bloom took a bit of a gulp, remembering her sister's reaction from earlier. A quick glance at Scootaloo showed that she was similarly concerned. Sweetie Belle was wincing in pain.

Not sure that she wanted to know the answer, Apple Bloom asked, “Did... did either of you find out anything new about this house?”

“I… didn't think to ask,” Scootaloo admitted, “You?”

“No, I didn't learn anything. What about you, Sweetie? Sweetie?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t answer.”

“Did you ask me something? Oops. Sorry,” she gave off a weak laugh, “Just thinking. Did either of you girls think to ask somepony about why the house is empty?”

“Can we just get this over with?” Scootaloo pleaded.

Apple Bloom nodded and took a deep breath. The house seemed to glare at her through its empty windows. The curtains in the dining room window swayed back and forth as if touched by some invisible hoof.

Cutie Mark Crusaders Haunted House Debunkers, she reminded herself, starting down the path to the porch. Her friends fell in line after her.

What did Sweetie Belle think they were going to find in there?

Apple Bloom stopped at the porch steps. Now that they were closer, she could see the difference in the house that had been unnoticeable from farther away.

The front door was ajar.

“Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo asked, her voice trembling.

“We must have left it open a crack when we left,” Apple Bloom rationalized. The thought offered no comfort.

Sweetie Belle brushed past her and ascended the steps without hesitation. Before their eyes, she slid up to the door and peered inside.

“Sweetie Belle! Don't!” Apple Bloom made to reach for her, but tripped over the first step and landed face-first against the splintering wood.

When she looked up, Sweetie Belle had swung the door open wide to expose the black gaping maw of the doorway.

Somewhere in that darkness, Apple Bloom knew, there was something that Sweetie Belle wanted to uncover.

“Are you okay?” Scootaloo asked, helping Apple Bloom up.

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied.

“Girls!” Sweetie Belle whined through the flashlight already in her mouth, “Hurry up!”

Scootaloo gave her a dark glance but said nothing. Apple Bloom saw the impatience in Sweetie Belle's eyes and moaned with worry.

With their flashlights out, the three walked into the house once again. Sweetie Belle closed the door behind them.

Chapter 4: The Mysteries of Elm House

“We’ll sleep in here again,” Apple Bloom said, scanning the familiar blue wallpaper. Scootaloo shuffled into the room behind her, a little too eager to be out of the dark hallway.

“So, um, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom continued, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Hm…” Sweetie Belle scratched her chin with her hoof, contemplating. “I’m not really sure.”

“Great,” Scootaloo muttered under her breath.

“But I’m sure there’s something here. I can feel it.”

“All I feel is a draft,” Scootaloo interrupted, “Can we eat now? I don’t want to be hungry when I’m chasing down imaginary ghosts.”

“It’s not imaginary,” Sweetie Belle insisted, “There’s something in here!”

“Girls, don’t start fighting, ya hear?” Apple Bloom said, dropping her bag on the beadspread. They mumbled back a brief apology. “Scootaloo’s right. We’re gonna eat, and then we’re gonna go out searching for whatever it was that Sweetie Belle felt.”

She opened her bags and eyed the blunt candlestick inside. Taking a gulp, she added quietly, “And hopefully we don’t find anything.”

From behind her, Sweetie Belle pulled something out of her own saddlebags.

“I brought egg rolls!” she announced.

“Oh yummy!”

“Where’d ya get those?”

“My dad made breakfast today,” she explained, “He saved some for me when I got home, and I saved them for us.”

“Your dad’s breakfasts are the best,” Scootaloo told her, “Why didn’t we sleep over at your house instead?”

“We have to do this,” Sweetie Belle insisted, passing them each an egg roll before biting into her own.

She and Scootaloo dug into their meals with vigor, while Apple Bloom held hers limply. She was gazing at the bedroom door, lost in thought.

“What's wrong, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo asked.

“Hmm?” Apple Bloom looked away from the door to acknowledge her friend. “I thought I... thought I heard something.”

“Probably just the draft,” Scootaloo replied quickly.

“We're going to figure out what's going on here,” Sweetie Belle told her.

Apple Bloom finished, “And then we can go to bed and forget all about this house.”

With their breakfast food depleted, Apple Bloom quickly passed out the apple fritters she had brought.

“Granny Smith made these, right?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Apple Bloom nodded. “I'm sorry they're so cold,” she said, “Scootaloo, why didn't you bring anything to eat?”

Scootaloo mumbled something they couldn't hear.

“What was that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I said I couldn't sneak into the kitchen before leaving!”

“Relax Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom told her, “Getting angry at her won't... why is it so hot in here?”

“It's not... oh, now I feel it,” Scootaloo replied.

“You see?” Sweetie Belle asked, “There's something wrong in this house.”

“Something wrong with the house,” Apple Bloom tried to correct her, but Sweetie Belle was shaking her head.

“Can we just get this done with?!” Scootaloo cried, “I'm ready to forget this whole thing.”

“Alright, let's go,” Sweetie Belle said, perking up and stuffing the rest of her desert into her mouth.

Scootaloo reached into her bag and came up with three thin rope necklaces, each with a small light blue gemstone hanging from them.

“Are those…?”

“Uh huh,” Scootaloo said, passing out the necklaces before holding up her own. She tapped her hoof twice on the little stone, causing it to glow softly with blue light.

“Cool!” Sweetie Belle said, doing the same thing to hers and sliding it around her neck, “Where’d you get them?”

“I borrowed them from Twilight yesterday. She showed me how they worked.”

“That’s amazing, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom said, watching as the light from the stone grew even brighter. It wasn’t as bright as a flashlight, but it would be much easier for them to see what they were doing.

Sweetie Belle was waiting at the door like Winona when she needed to be let out. Scootaloo was standing up as well. Apple Bloom’s heart sank; they were really doing this.

Quickly she reached into her bags and grabbed the large candlestick.

“Um, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo asked, “Oh no, you too? Really?”

“I... I just...” she couldn't find the words to explain away her actions. She just needed to feel safe.

Scootaloo must have thought her glare could wipe the smirk off of Sweetie Belle's face, but it had no such effect.

“Alright,” Scootaloo gave in, “Let's go.”

“Don't worry Scootaloo. I'm sure... ow!” Sweetie Belle winced and moved a hoof to her horn.

“Are you okay?” Apple Bloom mumbled through the candlestick.

“Yeah, okay,” she replied, opening the door and stepping out.

Apple Bloom followed behind, and Scootaloo took up the rear. Apple Bloom could hear her whimpering behind her.

Their steps echoed in the barren hallways. Apple Bloom could hear their emotions in the sounds that bounced around. Sweetie Belle's calm and confident step, her own careful and deliberate walk, and the light scraping of Scootaloo's hoofs on the floor.

And then a fourth sound that she couldn't quite make out.

“This room first,” Sweetie Belle said, pushing open the door to the master bedroom and strolling in.

Apple Bloom followed suit, shuddering as she took a breath of the stale air of the room. The carpet was stiff to the touch.

“It's cold in here,” Scootaloo said, ruffling her feathers and glancing around.

“Come on girls,” Sweetie Belle said, already glancing under the bed skirt in her search.

Apple Bloom clutched the candlestick tighter in her jaw and walked over to the dresser. Taking a deep breath, and doing her best not to cough up the bad air, she yanked open the first drawer.

“Oh jeez no!” she exclaimed, dropping the candlestick and turning away from the dust she had released.

When she looked again, there was nothing in the dresser drawer but a few pairs of shoes. The other drawers were similarly undusted, and similarly filled with ordinary clothes. Old clothes, all of which fell apart when she tried poking around for anything else, but nothing more than clothes.

“This room's clean,” Scootaloo said, turning away from the bedside table.

“I guess so,” Apple Bloom agreed, “What next? Sweetie Belle?”

No answer.

“Sweetie Belle?”

She was standing at the vanity, using her front hooves to prop herself up. Her mouth was hanging open, and she was staring blankly at the crack in the glass.

“Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle jumped. “I'm awake!” she cried, “I'm awake! I'm...” She looked around, confused, and then blushed at the sight of their faces. “Oh, sorry. Um...” She glanced back at the mirror one more time. “Let's go.”

“Gladly,” Scootaloo said, sharing a concerned glance with Apple Bloom.

Sweetie Belle took them to the upstairs bathroom next. There was barely enough room for the three of them to stand in there together.

Sweetie Belle was inspecting the toilet, while Apple Bloom checked the empty medicine cabinet.

“I think we're wasting our time,” Scootaloo said, wiping a line of dust away from the inside of the tub.

Sweetie Belle swung around to look her in the eye.

“We're not wasting our time!” she shouted.

“Sweetie Belle!?” Apple Bloom exclaimed, “Stop it! You're scaring her!”

“I'm... I'm...?” She took a good long look at Scootaloo, who had toppled backward into the tub and was shaking.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” she cried, reaching in and grabbing Scootaloo in a hug, “Can you ever forgive me, Sassy?”

“Sassy?”

“Oh, sorry Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said, pulling away and blushing again, “I don't know why I called you that. It's a cute name, though.”

“Uh... sure.” Scootaloo picked herself up and out of the tub, but seemed to hover a bit closer to Apple Bloom and her candlestick as they made their way to the guest bedroom.

Sweetie Belle... what the hay is the matter with you? Apple Bloom wondered.

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.

Chapter 5: Ghost Stories

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.