“I dare you to go inside,” the smaller colt chirped.
“Yeah!” the larger colt agreed. “I… I double dare you to go in!”
Golden Oats gulped as she turned away from the pair and toward the smallest cave entrance she’d ever seen. Once, for school, her and her classmates had visited a cavern tall enough to fit three carriages stacked atop each other. This cave, on the other hoof, seemed like nothing more than an overlarge crack in the wall.
Golden Oats faced the two colts. “Why would I even want to go in there?”
The smaller colt chuckled. “Because he double dared you to! Now you, like, have to!”
“Just because you double a dare doesn’t mean you suddenly have to do it,” she said, stomping a hoof. “Does that mean I could quadruple dare the two of you to stand on your heads and sing for me? Since four is twice as large as two?”
The two colts took a moment, seemingly calculating in their heads, before smirking again.
“Everypony knows that dares can only be doubled,” the smaller colt said.
“Yeah!” echoed the larger colt. “Those are the rules! Now you have to go in!”
“This is dumb,” Golden Oats muttered, staring down at her hooves. “I’m going home.”
“But don’t you want some of the treasure that’s in there?”
Even though she had her back to the smaller colt by this point, she could still picture the greasy smile on his muzzle. It irked her. Lots. But what irked her even more was the fact she’d stopped in her tracks right after hearing the word “treasure”.
Soon images of wooden chests full of golden bits filled her head. A jewel-coated scepter lay atop it all. And what was that behind the chests? A solid gold bicycle, perhaps?
“—heard it from a colt who knew this filly that—”
Golden Oats had completely lost focus.
“Wait. What?” She gave her head a tiny shake.
The smaller colt rolled his eyes. “I was just saying that this colt I knew heard it from this filly he knew that a friend of a friend of hers said there was treasure in that cave. And that anyone could go inside and get it if they wanted.”
“Then why haven’t either of you gone in yet?” she asked sharply.
“We already did,” the smaller colt boasted, lifting his chin. “Last week.”
The larger colt cocked a brow. “We did?”
In return, the smaller colt kicked him in the shins. “Yes! Remember?”
The larger colt winced. “Oh, now I remember! Yep! Totally!”
If the colts’ terrible back and forth routine wasn’t enough evidence of the lie, the fact that the larger colt wouldn’t have even made it passed the cave entrance sealed it. Now Golden Oats was curious if even she could make it through.
She knelt down to the narrow opening. It was smooth and diamond shaped.
And very, very dark inside.
“Hello?” she called, receiving the faintest of echoes in return. She stuck her head inside and felt the tip of her horn scrape along the top. She lit her horn with the only spell she knew at the time—a mass of energy hovering around the tip of her horn not much brighter than a candle.
“Helllloooo!” she called again. She could almost imagine her words bounce from one smooth surface to the next, the walls were so clean cut.
But the next noise that left her mouth was that of a shriek. One of the colts outside had given her a hard shove and pushed her the rest of the way through; the schoolbag on her back and all. Her quick outburst echoed down the rest of the darkened tunnel.
“You jerks!” she yelled, picking herself up and facing them through the opening. “That hurt!”
The colts’ faces looked much brighter than before; now that she stood in the dim of the cave and they remained out in the warm afternoon sun. A cool chill soon crept up her spine.
“Just trying to help,” the smaller colt said with a snort. “Anyways, try to stay away from the Cave Bug while you’re in there.”
Golden Oats gulped. “The what?”
“The Cave Bug,” he repeated. “Don’t go near it.”
“Couldn’t I just step on it?” she asked curiously. “Or roll it up in a tissue if I wanted to?”
“It’s a big bug.” The colt’s eyes widened as he said the word “big”, as if telling some ghost story to a hushed audience.
“Yeah!” the larger colt agreed. “Super big!”
“Some kid in Canterlot said he found a giant bug under his bed last month. Gave him a bunch of bits to go back to sleep or something.”
“Now I know you’re lying!” Golden Oats exclaimed. “There’s no treasure in here!”
The colt shrugged. “But what if I’m actually telling the truth?”
Timidly, Golden Oats faced the remainder of the tunnel behind her. It couldn’t go on forever, could it?
“Will you at least wait for me?” she asked, remaining focused on the darkness ahead of her. “Until I get back?”
“Sure, we’ll stick around.” The colt paused, eyeballing his friend. “I have to help him find that yearbook he lost, anyways.”
Golden Oats let out a breath and took a step further inside the cave. She repeated the process. Once more and again. She was about to ask another question of the colts outside, but could already hear them arguing.
“You’re sure you lost it out here?”
“Positive.”
“Then, where is it?”
“I dunno. It was in my bag the last time I had it. Maybe it fell out?”
“Fell out where?”
“How would I know?”
A few meters inside the cave, most of its creepy atmosphere had been cleanly swept aside. As far as Golden Oats knew, most caves had various tunnels or winding paths to them; odd shaped rocks, stalactites, or stalagmites, too. The cave that she was in now? None of that.
At one point, she took a right and found the path ended only twelve steps later. The same for when she took a random left and found the end of the path in less than six paces.
The only point of interest was when Golden Oats had to crawl on her belly to slide under a round rock jutting out from the ceiling. Afterwards she had to nab her schoolbag off the ground and drag it back to her.
And just like that, Golden Oats reached the end of the cave. Just how long had she been marching alone in the dark? It felt like mere moments. Three minutes, tops.
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed.
“All this way for nothing,” she muttered to herself miserably, glancing around the small area. She half-expected the two colts from school to hurriedly jump out from behind a rock to try and scare her, one of them dressed as a big, nasty bug, perhaps. But, no, she found there was no surprise laying in wait at the back of the cave for her, after all. No treasure, either.
“Only a dumb stone wall!” she spat, shoving her hoof against the cool rock surface.
She gasped as it easily pushed inward, creating another small hole to enter; flickers of red light danced around its edges. Tentatively, Golden Oats stuck her head inside, stopping the spell on her horn. Instantly, she wanted to gasp again, so she held a hoof against her mouth to stifle it.
The very last room inside the cave was a whole lot larger than the rest. Round and tall, the tips of its ceiling remained in shadows. Countless stacks of books circled the room, piled atop each other until they toppled over. Most texts looked beyond repair; tattered, torn, and even wet.
Taped up on the walls were dozens of large pictures, crude and childlike. Markers? Paint? Pencil and ink? A small fire burned on the floor well away from anything that might catch. It must’ve been magically made, too, as no trail of smoke drifted off of it.
From the room’s small doorway, Golden Oats counted four mismatched rugs and one immense wooden desk at the very center of it all. Two of its legs had been broken and replaced by thick stacks of books. One chair sat in front of it. Another behind.
And in the chair behind the desk sat…
“Miss Cheerilee?” Golden Oats chirped, forgetting she was trying to be quiet at the time.
It took Miss Cheerilee an awful long time to set the book in her hooves down; she kept glancing from its pages down to Golden Oats. She smiled, not showing her teeth. Her eyes remained half-lidded and not as expressive as usual.
Maybe due to the dim of the room?
“Golden Oats,” Cheerilee greeted warmly. “How nice to see you again.”
“But… I… umm…” Golden Oats was truly at a loss for words. “What are you doing in here, Miss Cheerilee? Weren’t you just at the school? You only dismissed us a few minutes ago.”
“It doesn’t take me long to get here,” Cheerilee replied, her small smile never departing from her lips. “If you know the right way in.” She motioned to the chair in front of the desk. “Come. Have a seat.”
Golden Oats did as she was told, clamouring onto a chair that felt as if it might fall to pieces at any moment. She knew the whole situation was strange—beyond that, actually—but having Miss Cheerilee as her teacher over the last few years basically meant that if she asked something of you, you usually did it.
“Umm… do you live here?” she asked her timidly. “Like… in here?”
Cheerilee laughed. Not the same bubbly laugh that Golden Oats had grown accustomed to. “Oh, no. I’ll only be here for a short time, I think.”
“So, you have a normal home? Like most ponies?”
That question gave Cheerilee pause. “I… used to, yes. But I’m sure I’ll find a permanent place soon.”
Now in a higher position up on her chair, Golden Oats was able to make out the book Cheerilee had been glancing at before. It was their school’s yearbook, left open on a particular page. Another yearbook lay underneath that one, from a school Golden Oats had heard of but never been before.
“Have you finished your coloring project yet?” Cheerilee asked her cheerfully.
Golden Oats’ face flushed. “Oh, umm, no.” She grabbed at her schoolbag and pulled out a half-finished drawing. “I’ve only done the background and outline, really. I thought we had until Friday to hand it in…”
Cheerilee nabbed the drawing from her suddenly, bringing it close to her face. Her smile widened until dimples appeared. “That is correct. I was only curious how you were coming along. A few students have already submitted them, you see.” Without looking away from the drawing, Cheerilee held out a hoof, indicating the dozens of other child-made drawings taped to the walls. “This is very good, Golden Oats. Rather pretty, just like you. I’m sure it’ll look even better once it’s complete.”
Cheerilee was so focused on the picture before her that Golden Oats took the opportunity to lean across the desk and inspect the propped open yearbook. Another icy chill crept up her spine. Golden Oats could see her very own small picture near the bottom, and a much larger one of Miss Cheerilee at the top, circled in red marker, alongside the words, "KIND, SWEET, LOUD."
Golden Oats’ mouth went as dry as dust. “You’re not really Miss Cheerilee, are you?”
Not Cheerilee kept the drawing covering her face, blocking her from view. The fur around the hooves holding the edges of the drawing flickered from purple to black in random intervals.
“Oh, no, of course not,” Not Cheerilee replied evenly. “You wouldn’t have entered if I pretended to be anyone else.”
It was strange how numb Golden Oats felt at that moment, as if she was somehow watching the scene and not actually participating in it. She surprised herself by asking, “You started the rumor about the treasure, too, didn’t you?”
“Clever filly.”
Even with the paper still blocking Not Cheerilee from sight, Golden Oats thought she might be smiling. This time with her teeth visible.
“So ponies would come visit you?”
All at once, Not Cheerilee’s fur settled on purple again. She lowered the paper and was still the same Cheerilee copy as before, only now slightly confused. Sad, too?
“Now just why would you say something like that?” she asked in a hushed tone.
Golden Oats shrugged. It still felt like she was watching events unfold without her involvement. “Maybe you’re lonely?”
“Lonely?” Not Cheerilee said, seemingly disgusted by the word. “I have my books… I have my stories… I have my pictures. I have my memories. My many, many memories! There is only one other thing I need in this world to keep going and—”
“Have you thought about not living in a spooky, dark cave?” Golden Oats cut in. “I think if you weren’t so difficult to find, more ponies would come visit you.”
Neatly, gently, Not Cheerilee folded the drawing back up and set it at the corner of her desk. She looked away from the filly as her eyes shimmered. But only for a moment.
“Nice attempt, young one. But that’s just not how things work around here.”
Again, she smiled. Big and bright. And, somehow, she had more teeth in her mouth than Miss Cheerilee ever had. Sharp ones, too.
“You came in here searching for treasure, did you not?” Not Cheerilee said in a far lower voice than before. “Bits piled to the ceiling? Riches beyond measure?”
She left her chair abruptly, roughly knocking it to the floor. That was also when her skin began to change—not all at once, but over time. It was as if the skin around her body had turned to liquid and someone had just dropped a pebble into it, causing it to ripple.
“Or is it a wish you want, instead?” Not Cheerilee asked angrily, slowly circling around the desk. “Isn’t that how all good fairy tales end? With a wish?”
Her skin continued to ripple, revealing sharp blackened bones and joints underneath. A large, jagged horn soon poked through the Cheerilee-disguise, as did long strands of damp, turquoise hair that clung tight to her chest.
From the moment Not Cheerilee had left the desk, Golden Oats had done the same, galloping toward the area she thought she’d entered from. The only trouble was that the hidden door blended in so well with the stone, she couldn’t find the right area to push.
Terrified, she shoved at all the stone she could reach. “Stupid rock! Move!”
Her frantic search for the hidden door came to an abrupt halt as she felt warm breath atop her head. Turning around, she kept her back pressed tight against the stone.
Not Cheerilee smiled down at her. “Now what is your wish, little mare?”
Golden Oats’ jaw trembled. “I wish my Mommy was here!”
Not Cheerilee stepped to her right, causing Golden Oats to do the same, relocating her placement on the wall. She lowered herself to her, and the rippling on her skin ceased, leaving only a blackened, smooth figure before her. It seemed Golden Oats had been talking to the bug inside the cave all along.
The Cave Bug asked her, “Who says I can’t be your Mommy dearest?” before breaking out into a laugh that was close to a scream.
Suddenly, Golden Oats felt the wall behind her give way and she tumbled through. She wasted no time once out the other side and ran as fast as she could into the pitch-black darkness. She illuminated her horn only when she remembered the section of cave she had to crawl through. Good thing, too, as it appeared only a few seconds after she cast the spell.
Once she reached the cave entrance, she shot through the small hole like a champagne cork and didn’t bother looking back. She must’ve been over ten meters away before she realized neither of her schoolmates had waited for her. Which was fine, because…
“Mommy!” Golden Oats yelped. She had never been more relieved to see her mother standing outside her school, waiting to walk her home.
Her mother turned to her with a well-worn frown. “Golden Oats? Where did you wander off to? I’ve been standing here for—”
Her sentence was cut short due to Golden Oats launching herself into her chest. For over a minute, Golden Oats tried to explain exactly where she’d been, all the while burrowing herself more and more into her mother’s chest. Muffled gibberish, basically.
“You left that behind,” her mother told her. “I would hate for you not to finish it.”
Prying herself away from her, Golden Oats spun around and found both her schoolbag and half-finished picture laying on the grass. Her pupils shrunk as her eyes widened.
“Hurry home now.”
But when Golden Oats spun around again, she found she was completely alone. Shivering, she reached for her bag, noticing something happily twinkling inside. She opened it.
Ten golden bits.
Some treasure, after all.
Author's Note
I didn't want to do the whole "under the bed" thing again, so I thought of something a bit different, but still with Chrysalis interacting with kids. (Scaring them, in other words.)
Thought this one turned out a bit darker than the original, so DARK tag included.
Thanks for reading!
