Stories Around the Campfire

Blueberry was a stallion who lived near the Galloping Gorge who farmed, you guessed it, blueberries. But all was not right this day. A storm was blowing, the pegasi needed to have a large amount of water go to the Smokey Mountains, but the wind there was too high at the moment. Ponies’ houses might be blown away. So Blueberry sat alone in his manor, sipping hot cocoa in his rocking chair, listening to the pitter patter of the rain. He liked the peace and quiet isolation gave him. Bountiful Harvest had gone to Ponyville for her sister’s birthday. Blueberry couldn’t come for obvious reasons. Still, while the alone time was nice, the manor was very big, and old, and creaky. Everything was made of wood, the doors, the bookshelves around him, everything. The only thing that wasn’t was the fireplace. As it was, the flickering illumination of the fire was calming him from the constant creaks. A book lay on the table next to Blueberry, it was Blueberries: A Century of Research. The page talked about culturing blueberries.

Blueberry’s ear flicked as he heard a noise unfamiliar to the last few hours. The rain’s muffled roaring against the wood, stone, and glass almost overshadowed it. Blueberry assumed it was a creak.

Blueberry’s ear flicked again. It was definitely not a creak. It sounded less creeeeeeeeak and more oooOoOOOooo, like a loose window. He went back to drinking his hot cocoa, determined to fix the window in the morning. It was too dangerous right now.

OOOOooooOOOoooO

Blueberry set his cocoa down and picked up his nearby, very much full, lantern in his mouth. That was certainly not a window. It definitely sounded like a pony. Outside the door perhaps? Caught in the rain? Blueberry couldn’t let the poor pony freeze to death! Blueberry struck a match to light the lantern before making his way out the study and down the plush carpet towards the heavy oak doors. Pushing them open with a small effort, he looked around in the rain.

“Nopony around. I could have sworn I heard somepony.” He scratched his head and dismissed the thought, it was far later than he usually went to bed, but the storm was keeping him awake and he was probably just tired. Just imagining things.

ooOOOooooOOOOO

Blueberry froze mid step. That came from the study, he was sure of it. Was some filly playing a prank on him? He wasn’t going to stand for it! He would take her back to her parents in the morning and she would have some serious explaining to do! Resolute, he stormed his way up the stairs again. It would have sounded menacing if the carpet wasn’t so thick. All that came of it was a light pomf when his hooves hit the carpet. He pushed open the door to his study and called out.

“Little filly! Come here right now!” No response. Blueberry moved to check the faintly rocking rocking chair and saw nopony on it. The study door slammed behind him and Blueberry swung around, his lantern flickering. “W-who’s there! Come out!”

OOOOOOOOoooOOOO!

Blueberry jumped. He ran to the door, each step making his lantern bang against his chest. He ripped the door open and threw his head around. His eyes roving around wildly to catch whoever was playing this awful joke on him. His eye caught the old family banner, it fluttered in an unseen wind, the lion almost seeming to dance. The sound came from the kitchen and he galloped to it.

Almost crashing through the doors he calmed himself and lit the nearby candle, providing much stronger illumination than the dusty lantern.

Nopony.

Was.

There.

“S-s-stop it! Th-this isn’t f-f-f-funny!” Blueberry shouted, his voice cracking in strain. He felt something brush against his coat and span around. Nopony.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

A long, drawn out, quieter moan. Blueberry was positively wild. He grabbed a rolling pin and shouted to his empty house, “I-I’m armed! Stay b-back!” while waving the pin about in a vaguely threatening manner. He went to the wail’s source, the guest bedroom. Quiet as a mouse, he slinked over to the guest bedroom and slowly turned the handle. It was locked. Positively terrified, he awaited the next moan. It came from right behind him. A screeching scream that chilled him to his bones. He tripped over his own hooves and dropped the lantern, it snuffed out and he ran back to the safety of the study, rolling pin still in hoof, without ever looking back. He slammed the door open against the wall and rushed to his matches. Flipping them into his hooves he spilled the half drank cocoa over the table and the burgundy rug that dominated the room. Blueberry didn’t care, he just wanted this sick joke to end! He lit a match and made his way back to the spot where he had dropped the lantern. It had vanished, leaving only oil for him to slip onto his back. He rolled away, feeling the oil stick and mat his coat together. He lit another match and made his way downstairs. Each match he burned burned his hoof as he waited as long as possible before lighting another.

ooooooooOOOOooooOOoooo

It came from the cellar. Blueberry didn’t want to go down into the cellar. It was dark and scary and made him sneeze. But it was the only place to go. His carpet was soon littered with blackened matches as he slowly stalked his way to the creepy cellar. Passing each door, the only constant was the creaking wood and the rain pounding against the manor.

OOOOooooooo

Blueberry was shaking like a leaf. The sound had him scared out of his wits and he knew he felt something back in the kitchen. His trot inexorably slowed to a glacial pace, before stopping entirely at the door. He swallowed, unprepared for what lay ahead. He lit another match and pushed the door open with a creeeeeeak from the old wood. Blueberry made his way down the steps and peered at the darkness. Monsters couldn’t exist, could they? No, Blueberry thought. Somepony was just playing a bad prank on him and didn’t know when to stop.

His match ran out.

He struck another, and saw a face. Jumping away into the darkness the new match was snuffed out. The face was old and female and contorted in sorrow. The door banged shut and the wail she emitted rolled across the room, Blueberry struck another match. He knew she was in here with him, he waved his rolling pin about.

“S-stay b-b-b-back! L-l-leave m-me alone! Go aw~ay!” Blueberry didn’t want to go out like this, he still hadn’t read the last chapter of his book and the cake in the larder still wasn’t fully eaten. He had so much to live for!

The match flickered and died. The scream stopped and he heard the cloak shuffling towards him. Just before it could get its hooves on him he ran into the corner and lit his final match, the box was empty. He watched the flame burn all the way down, and he knew, the banshee was doing the same. Waiting for the darkness. Each heartbeat slowed time more, the match burning at an ever slower pace. For once in his life, Blueberry cursed he wasn’t a unicorn to banish the banshee.

“I-I-I don’t want to die! P-p-please! Go!”

The match glowed in its final ember before flickering out. This time the shuffling was much slower paced. He held his rolling pin in front of him like a shield against what was coming and screwed his eyes shut. He imagined even she could hear his rapid heartbeat.

Thump

Swish

Thump

Swish

Thump

Swish

Thump

Swish.