Apparition Amphitheater Presents: Forsaken Fashion Dolls

Chapters

Will Follow You Forever
White Eyes of Sheer Despite
Will Dog You 'Til You Die

Will Follow You Forever

Beyond the reach and safety of modern civilization, deep down in the heart of a forgotten forest, a lone gothic amphitheater sat in its grave silence. Empty, cobweb ridden, and rotted seats were set row by row, as flecks of golden leaves and tiny desperate rodents scrambled between. Luna's moon shone down upon the reclusive stage and audience arrangements as wind ebbed and flowed gently about. However, with a sudden flicker, the lights of the stage came to life, and there stood the bizarre master of this night.

The creature was roughly six feet tall, wearing dark grey jeans, a light grey hoodie, and had wild, light brown hair. Those features, in of themselves, were most unremarkable. However, upon further inspection, his two more unusual qualities shone through the drab ensemble of grey that clothed his figure. Sharp cloven hands, bound in bandages and barbed wire, flexed and cracked in anticipation. Lastly, a half skull mask adorned his face, with a lengthy, rusty nail poking out from the forehead. He gave a grin, pleased with the state of his lovely theater, and gave a short bow and a chuckle.

Good evening, my friends. I am Wrath B. Forgivnez, and welcome back to this beautifully hollowed amphitheater. I have told a fair few stories during my time here. Stories about lost love, of friendship and bravery, of nightmares and of eternal promises. Tonight, I shall tell you a different sort of story. A story more about the stress of life. Of ambition and of personal strife to achieve the one thing you want most.

We all know that the dear little Sweetie Belle has an older sister. Quite a talented one, in fact. A proficient seamstress, digging her hooves deep into the world of fashion, willing to do what she can to make a name on the scene. Oh yes, her hunger for such glory is bountiful and powerful. However, the creative world is a stressful beast, and can have a strong, and sometimes terrifying, effect on those deep seated within it. Anyone in such a realm knows this well: Sleepless nights, anxiety of deadlines and reception, harsh and personal critique on your own work that is unwarranted at best, and perhaps ire and resentment of those around you if they hinder you in the slightest. Tonight's tale is about what happens when those stresses get to you... and what happens when someone... or something... is watching. This is a tale I like to call:

FORSAKEN FASHION DOLLS

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

At the edge of the sleepy town of Ponyville sat the extravagantly decorated Carousel Boutique: A quaint little shop of bold ambitions, as the matriarch and proprietor worked diligently within its walls. The owner of this little establishment was none other than Rarity, resident tailor and dressmaker of a high standard and quality. Her curled royal purple mane bounced against her alabaster coat as she trotted between projects, both custom orders and inspiration fueled products to display for sale. Her horn flared as she reached for various colors of matching and contrasting fabric to use, pulling them free from their shelves, as well as lifting various tools and threads to work the materials for her art. For such a young entrepreneur and fashionista, she was extraordinarily talented, even despite her main talent was the ability to locate gemstones. However, she would confess to herself, she'd be nothing without her ponnequin collection. Antique, featureless and statuesque objects that she bought years ago with her hard earned bits which fetched, at the time, for a high price. They were well worth every coin, as she used them to great effect ever since. The perfect base size to start off custom measurements and androgynous enough to mimic either mare or stallion. However, they were always fairly delicate. To be fair, they had taken a slight beating from use and the occasional minor accident and came out no worse for wear, but it was a precaution to always denote to her sister that roughhousing near them was forbidden. If they ever took a hard enough and heavy fall, there was a good chance they would break beyond feasible and workable repair.

Never the less, such a thing wasn't much of a worry for her, as she believed her dear little sister would heed her warnings. Well, she did once upon a time, at the very least. Ever since her young sibling formed the "Cutie Mark Crusaders" with her little friends, those beliefs were thrown to doubt. All she could do now was hope that she'd still be careful.

She was on a roll with her projects: sewing, snipping, tying, cutting, and decorating with grace and flair, molding every garment into a design of unique and properly tailored beauty. The proper colors with the proper patterns, fastened with both practical and decorative stitches, almost glowed in the seamstress' eyes. It wouldn't be long now before she would be done and able to move on to yet another order or personal project. Though, her merry attitude wouldn't last, as there was a loud bang, coming from the front door, the sound of a squealing pig, and three panicking children.

"Oh no," Rarity said with heart-sinking terror in her voice. She dropped everything, and raced out of her studio, but it was far too late. A mud covered pig, probably pilfered from Fluttershy's humble abode, or even Applejack's farm, raced about her shop, tracking dirt and grime everywhere as three little fillies tried in vain to catch it, pleading for it to stop. Already, stands were knocked over, clothes were scattered, and Rarity was helpless to do nothing but watch as some of her ponnequin collection in the front room had already tipped over, smashed against the ground with the works of art drooped sadly away from the breaks. The little hog then raced towards the seamstress, causing her to jump and shriek in fear, which only grew louder upon realization. It was now in the studio, and she could already hear the sounds of catastrophe. Soon after, the three little fillies raced in after the little pig, and the horrible noise only got worse before everything became silent.

Rarity came out of her horror soaked stupor long enough to re-enter her studio to see the damage already done. All of her in-progress works were ruined, her materials were dirty, and the rest of her ponnequin collection was destroyed. Amidst the calamity were the three fillies, having now captured their pig, while the little light brilliant gamboge pegasus filly named Scootaloo checked for a mark on her flank, dusting off a bit of grime in the process.

"Nothin'," she sighed, dejectedly, which turned into confusion when the other two were looking behind her in worry. "What?" She then turned around to Rarity, whom stared at them with an oddly calm but frighteningly stern glare. "Oh, uh... s-sorry..."

"I-I'm sorry, Ms. Rarity. We thought we had 'im under control," the little yellow coated earth pony Apple Bloom said.

Rarity's eye twitched slightly, before she took a deep breath in to calm herself, and exhaled slowly. "I would like you all to leave. We'll discuss compensation later with Applejack."

"Yes'm," she replied, as they all began to leave, tails between their legs.

"Not you, Sweetie Belle," she snipped, causing her little lightish grey unicorn sister to stop dead in her tracks. The little filly turned back to Rarity as the others walked out the door, closing it behind them. Sweetie patted and brushed out her mulburry and light greyish rose colored mane to get rid of the excess mud and dirt, trying to get more comfortable in preparation for her incoming punishment.

"I-I'm sorry," she said pleadingly.

Rarity approached her sister and sat in front of her. All the seamstress wanted to do right now was yell, scream, and shout to her hearts content just to get it out of her system, especially after losing so much progress on her works. However, that wasn't fair to Sweetie Belle. It was clear she and her friends were trying to stop the hog, and it was likely that if she asked, Sweetie would tell her something along the lines of that they were "trying to get a cutie-mark in hog tying" or "pig catching" or something of the sort. This was just another in the long list of childish failures as they kept trying to force their own self discovery. Rarity knew this whole heartedly. She also knew that Sweetie was very sincere in her simple little apology. The fashionista swallowed her anger, gave a heavy sigh, and a gentle smile.

"It's alright," she lied, "It was probably an accident that you three lost control of the situation." She gave her sister a gentle pat on the head, before wiping away a little more of the mud, eliciting a giggle from the little sibling. "However," she started, causing her sister to snap all attention back to her, "I can't let you go unpunished. You should have at least been the voice of reason before all this happened." Sweetie Belle's demeanor drooped as she idly kicked at the ground, waiting for whatever sort of punishment she was going to receive. "First, you're grounded for the next few days to a week, depending on when my orders are finished." The little filly was about to protest, but Rarity hushed her before continuing. "You can still talk to your friends at school, but I expect you home sharpish after it's out. Secondly, when I have an opportunity, I'll be making good on my promise to talk to Applejack about what happened. Expect to do some chores on her end, little missy. You can talk to your friends there too, but no clubhouse meetings until further notice." Sweetie nodded, glad the terms of her grounding weren't entirely unreasonable.

"Third," Rarity started, glancing about the room, "you're going to help me clean up this boutique."

"But, that's gonna take all day!" Sweetie finally protested.

Rarity's eye twitched for a moment, but she suppressed her ire. "Perhaps, but I'll be helping. If we work fast, we'll be done long before supper, and I'll then help you with any school work you have. Deal?"

Sweetie grumbled for a moment, before replying with a dejected, "Deal."

"Excellent!" Rarity exclaimed, clacking her hooves, before she set about starting up the cleaning process. Sweetie followed suit, and soon the two began scrubbing away the tracked mud and gathering soiled clothes to be washed later. Sweetie Belle herself moved to the store and showcasing room, dealing with majority of the mess there, calling her sister over when trying to deal with a task a bit too large for her small frame, such as picking up broken bits of display shelves. It was a shame, but they could be easily be replaced, and the wood and nails can be recycled. The ponnequins, however, would be a lot harder to deal with, mostly as she didn't wish to throw them out yet. She had them for years and was able to successfully repair them before, however it was always from minor damages.

She ignored them for now and proceeded with the rest of the cleanup: scrubbing, dusting, gathering soiled materials for washing, and discarding whatever was damaged beyond reasonable repair. Including a fair number of her works in progress. Even the drapes that dressed the windows weren't unmarred.

However, while rummaging through the various things she was sorting for wash and garbage, she came across a recent fashion editorial magazine. One that she had been meaning to read for quite some time. Absentmindedly she flipped it open, and began idly looking through the pages, checking out some of the latest trends and creations, and glanced through some interviews talking about design techniques. It was then she came across one peculiar ad.

"For Sale: A set of five ponnequins. Kept in great condition, asking twenty bits of the lot, or five bits each. Fifteen Minutes north of Sweet Apple Acres." Rarity's eyes lit up. "Oh, what LUCK!" she exclaimed, before stopping for a moment. It wouldn't be fair to Sweetie if she just took off to pick up new ponnequins out of the blue. However, it would also give her a good opportunity to talk to Applejack along the way. There is also one other thing. She glanced to the pig, that still sat bound and silent on the ground where it was left. "Might as well do it all at once. Oh, Sweetie?" Her younger sister poked her head around the door frame, answering her name. "Where did you get this little pig from anyway?"

"He was from Apple Bloom's farm."

"Figured as much," she muttered, "Well, I guess I'm off to drop him off then, and have a small chat with Applejack, and maybe stop to grab a few things for the shop. I should be gone for about forty minutes, give or take." The grabbed her saddle bag and bits, and summoned her magic to pick up the little pig. "You stay and clean while I'm gone, and please stay out of trouble. I'll be back as soon as possible, ok?"

"Ok," Sweetie Belle mumbled, not entirely happy she was going to be cleaning the shop all alone for nearly an hour.

"Alright, see you soon!"

And with that, saddlebag across her back and carrying a somewhat bewildered pig in her magic, Rarity proceeded up the street and headed for Sweet Apple Acres.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

It wasn't exactly the most pleasant of visits, Rarity confessed. While she has grown to see Applejack as a good and close friend, admiring her work ethic, dependable nature, and honest personality, she could never quite appreciate the rough an tumble life of a farm pony in the same way, but that was small stitches compared to the matter at hoof. To say it was a tad embarrassing to stop by Sweet Apple Acres to drop off a pig and discuss with said close friend about consequences over recent transgressions from the little fillies in question was putting it lightly. Applejack even had enough of a nerve to giggle at the splotch of mud Rarity missed scrubbing off her own coat in her haste. Never the less, despite the chat being less friendly than she would have liked, she did take a few seconds to invite her to the spa at the end of the week. Applejack declined, naturally, but the obviousness of the answer was no less disappointing. One day, I swear, you will join me and get a little bit of real R and R for yourself at least once long before I go grey.

With this said, however, the young farmpony was kind enough to offer to lend her a cart to use to transport recycling materials and garbage out of her boutique. It couldn't have been any more of a blessing than it had, especially since she'd probably need it to take home the ponnequins, if they are still there at such a steal.

It didn't take her very long to find the place she needed to be. Apparently, about fifteen minutes outside of Ponyville's borders was a quaint little country house with a rather large yard, and a decent amount of brush behind that. It was cute, if a bit rustic, but what drew her attention was the prize that drew her here in the first place: Five, beautifully crafted and pristine ponnequins, perfect for garment making and display purposes. Two of them were earth pony models, two were pegasi, and one was a unicorn. She was gonna miss her old ones, but these were a fine replacement in her eyes.

"Hello?" she called out, "Is anypony here? I came to purchase the-"

"Ponnequins?" chuckled a rather off-beat, scraggly voice.

Rarity jumped from the sudden appearance of a sickly thin, grey coated unicorn with a wiry, crimson mane. He gave Rarity a leer, before cracking a wry smile. Rarity herself gave a light, embarrassed chuckle, stroking her royal purple curls in comfort.

"O-oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," she said. "My name is Rarity, and I'm-"

"Yes, yes, I know why you're here. You want the models. That'll be twenty bits. Quickly now. Shove off with them, eh?"

"Whoa-hey, what are you rushing me for? I've just barely introduced myself, and you've hardly done so on your end. I mean, a real gentlecolt would at least have the courtesy to-"

"I ain't no gentlecolt, little lady, and this ain't no social gatherin'. I'd just 'preciate it if ya payed me and took the curse-ed things with ya."

"Hold on a second," Rarity demanded, "How did you even get an ad into the-?"

"Oh, that ol' thing. I just pulled in a few favors. I knew a few ponies in Canterlot once upon a time, and they agreed to lend a little hoof in this. Now, the twenty bits, if ya will?"

Rarity gave a bit of a growl, not exactly happy about being interrupted constantly by the strange pony. Never the less, she did have her own important matters to get back to, and arguing about it with someone she barely knew would just cost more time.

"Very well," she said finally, opening her saddle and removed thirty bits from within. "You can keep the change if you'll be ever so kind as to help me put them in the cart.

The old stallion gave a toothy grin at the extra cash he was given, and looked back to her with a properly warm smile. "I'll do ya one better, miss." And with that said, his horn flared up with a deep red glow, picking up each of the ponnequins, and placing them nicely into the cart. "That oughta do it. You trot home safe, ya hear?"

"Why thank you," Rarity replied with a genuine smile, "You're not nearly as rude as you made yourself out to be at first." As she was just about to leave, however, the stallion called after her once more.

"Oh, uh, Miss Rarity, was it?"

"Yes, what do you wish to ask me?" she questioned, stopping in her tracks.

"Just wanna make sure ya know," he started, giving a rather ominous grin, "Be careful 'round them ponnequins. They're VERY particular, and can hear everythin' goin' on near them."

"What does that-"

"Do keep your temper."

"My temper?!" Rarity huffed upon hearing such a bizarre warning with an even more bizarre request. She looked back to Ponyville for the moment, and looked to the horizon, getting a gauge for the time of the day. "Well, I think I'm quite alright when it comes to that, thank you very much. So, while I appreciate the concern, I however-"

As she said this, she looked back to the house where the old unicorn stood, only to find he wasn't there anymore. She looked about the yard, yielding no results. She tried to gaze at the sides of the house, but still saw no one. She heard no door close, and no hoofsteps made. She didn't even hear the pop of a teleportation spell.

"Well, perhaps he's just a very quiet individual," she reasoned, before she set about her path back down the road. She hoped Sweetie Belle was doing alright and stayed out of trouble. She had also hoped no one showed up to her boutique while it was likely still such a giant mess. If that ever happened, she'd probably freeze up in place and just drop dead out of shame. A slight hint of resentment crossed her mind over the situation, but she swallowed the negativity as soon as she could.

As she returned to town, one of the ponnequins shifted.

White Eyes of Sheer Despite

It had been a couple days since the pig catastrophe. Carousel Boutique had been completely restored, and Rarity had finally managed to make some decent headway on the projects she managed to salvage. Unfortunately, not all of them could be saved, and she instead had to start from scratch on those, but thankfully the customers in-waiting for those commissions were kind enough to give her a pass. At least, most of them. There was one particular customer. Spoiled Rich, wife of the illustrious and wealthy Filthy Rich, had placed such order that ended up ruined. While other customers were understanding over the situation and gave her more time, Spoiled was much less forgiving of the matter, berating her for not being able to control a trio of blank-flanks once Rarity explained the situation. Worse, she decided to twist the knife a bit and threaten to cancel the order if it wasn't complete by tomorrow. If she wanted any hope of completing it, she'd need to make that one her sole priority over all others.

It really put a damper on her mood, and somewhat choked her creativity a bit. Her movement and drive became less flowing and more methodical as she diligently worked on Spoiled Rich's dress, doing what she could to finish it in time, or better yet have it finished with time to spare. Never the less, it was going to be a long day. At the very least, the new ponnequins she began to use worked splendidly. They seemed to fit nearly any sort of clothing very well, just like her old ones, and seemed to be soft to the touch but tough enough to take any needle pokes and prods without so much as a scratch. The only thing that seemed to cause her to pause from time to time were the very feint squeaks she heard every now and then as she worked on her projects. She did have Twilight look them over yesterday when she couldn't take the curiosity any more, but even she found nothing out of the ordinary. Not even a rogue mouse somehow trapped inside was detected.

Despite the issues, both minor and major, she kept working on the tedious dress, wanting nothing more than to work on something else for the time being. Her eyes drooped as much as her mood slowly sank, until she finally took a step back and gained some reason. Rubbing her temples, she gave a heavy sigh, and decided to retreat to the kitchen for a relaxing cup of green tea. It didn't take her long to fetch the set and start to boil the water. However, as she was about to finish her final preparations, she heard the front door open and the shop bell ring.

"I'm home, Rarity!" Sweetie Belle announced, as she raced through the building and up the stairs.

Rarity gave a smile and light shake of her head as she began pouring the hot green tea into her favorite cup, ready to drink. Just as she was about to take a sip, Sweetie suddenly raced up behind her and slammed against her leg with a hug. It was enough to kick Rarity out of her concentration to drop the little cup of tea, where it smashed upon impact. The once fine china cup now lay scattered about in shards of white fragments; its contents soaking the floor. Rarity's eye twitched.

"Oh, s-sorry," her sister said apologetically, "I didn't know you were making tea."

Rarity gave a tired, if irritable, sigh, "It's alright, Sweetie. Just be careful next time. So, how was school?"

"It was alright, I guess," she sighed, "A little boring. We were learning about legendary creatures that live in the Everfree, but what we were taught were about things we already knew about: cocatrices, cragadiles, and timber-wolves. Though, Miss Cheerilee did say she'll be covering some of the spookier creatures next week, like 'phantoms' and 'wil-o-whisps'."

"That's nice," she said halfheartedly, gathering up the broken shards of the cup and putting them into a small satchel. "I'll have to take these to a dish repair shop when I have time. Just another thing on my to-do list, I'm afraid."

"Oh, do you need help?"

"No, Sweetie. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can't be distracted right now. Spoiled Rich came by today and... didn't take my news about what happened at the shop very well. She wants me to complete her order by tomorrow, so I'll need to do what I can to make sure it's finished tonight. This means I won't be able to help you with any of your homework this time around."

"Aww," the little filly belly-ached, "Can I go and see my friends then?"

"Have you finished the chores Applejack had set up for you and your friends?"

"Yes."

"Then, I'm afraid for now the answer is no."

"But-!"

"I told you, Sweetie. You're grounded until I've finished these orders."

"Then, can I help you finish them?"

"No," Rarity replied with a bit more ire in her voice, "I don't have the time or the patience for that. Spoiled Rich's order is VERY particular, and I don't want to leave any imperfections of mistakes if I can help it, lest I lose her as a client." I'm not exactly fond of her, myself, but I'd rather retain as many clients I can, even those that are influential and persuasive.

"But, I promise I won't get in the way!" Sweetie whined.

"I said no!" Rarity barked, "I need all the concentration I can muster to make sure I complete this order. Just, go to your room, and do your homework."

"But-"

"I SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM!" Rarity all but shrieked.

The little filly raced out of the kitchen and into her room, slamming the door behind her. Rarity huffed, and tossed the tea set into the sink, storming back into the studio thereafter to continue work. For a moment or two, she applied as much concentration as she could, sewing patterns and stitching together materials, hiding seams and trying to bring just one part of it altogether, but soon her mind wandered a bit. Her hardened scowl of irritation and effort fueled fixation began to soften and waver, as she glanced back behind her, hearing light sobs.

As Celestia's sun began to slowly set against the horizon, so too did Rarity's heart begin to sink from the muffled sound of her sister as her work drive came to a screeching halt. She gave a heavy, heartache filled sigh as she stared in the direction of Sweetie's room, contemplating on whether she should drop her work entirely and comfort the poor girl, and apologize for snapping at her like that. She had likely hours upon hours left before she could consider Mrs. Rich's commission done. It would only take a few moments of consolation. Moments that may turn to hours of horsing about and involuntary play time. It was always like that.

However, as much as it pained her to do so, she shook her head turned away from the crying and forced herself to return her attention to the project at hand. She kept sewing and threading, measuring and cutting new material for decoration and application, slowly but surely molding the dress to how it should be, and how it was before the pig disaster happened. She scowled a tad upon thinking about it. It hurt to consider, but after the repercussions of the event effecting her more fully today, she couldn't help but feel a little more resentment. She grimaced and shut her eyes, letting a tear leak through, as she tried to discard such a toxic thought.

Suddenly, and rather sharply, she heard something scrape against the floor. It was quick, harsh, and ominous. She stopped, and turned her gaze in the direction of the noise, trying to locate its origin. She looked about the room, now glowing with the red evening light from the windows, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that seemed only slightly out of place was the ponnequin on the far end being slightly askew. She rubbed her eyes deeply, believing she was only seeing things due to the odd evening lighting, stepped off her work stool before her project, and headed for the lamp, setting it alight to illuminate the room properly. As she did, she heard another scrape.

Rarity spun around quickly to try to see what made that noise, and saw nothing once again. Everything was as it should be. Even the ponnequin that was slightly askew was back the way it was. She approached it slowly, her heart beginning to quicken as she got close and closer. Upon being mere inches away, she reached out with her hoof to touch the inanimate mock pony's cheek. Suddenly, its head turned directly at Rarity, causing her to jump back. Not a moment later, the other ponnequin heads snapped toward her direction. Rarity backed away, shocked and terrified of what was happening, just before she tripped over something and blacked out.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

Rarity woke up with a start, lying upon the floor of the studio, next to the ponnequins and projects, whom all sat where they belonged. She rose back up to her hooves, dusted herself off, and gently patted against her aching side that landed on the ground. Upon gazing about, she noticed it was night time. The lamp was on, and the only sound she could hear at the moment was the sound of the crickets outside. She looked back toward the direction of her sister's room, and listened close, swiveling her ears to better focus. Nothing. Not a sob came from her sister's room.

She decided it was time to check up on her sister. It was the very least she could do, after what she did prior. She only hoped she could make up for it tomorrow. It wasn't long before she arrived at Sweetie's bedroom door, and upon opening it, she found her sister fast asleep, books and papers scattered, but complete, and her saddlepack put off to the side. Rarity gave a weak smile, as she let her horn flare up, gather the papers and books, and put them neatly off to the side beside the saddlepack. She then walked into the room, tucked her sister into bed, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind her.

As soon as she had, she made her way back to her studio and went back to work, diligently pouring all of her effort into completing Mrs. Rich's commission. Stitch by stitch, moment by moment, and fabric by fabric, the new dress began to take shape and form, becoming the masterpiece it was planned to be. At least, the masterpiece she hoped it would be. She worked long into the night, pouring every ounce of energy into it until, finally, it was done. She looked out of the window and into the night sky, gazing up at the full moon before her. It's a lovely night.

She yawned and stretched, and moved away from the commission, looking it over from a distance, and giving it a final once over. Satisfied with how it turned out finally, and glad it was done, she decided it was now time to go to bed. Leaving the studio, she turned off the lamp, as well as other light sources as she went around the Boutique, until she reached the bathroom. Once there, quickly went through her nightly routine just before she finally retired to her bedroom, turned out the lights, and jumped into her snug, tightly made bed. Before she closed her eyes, she flared her horn once more, set her alarm clock, and slipped on her soft night-mask, sighing in satisfaction. Tomorrow is a brand new day, she thought, I'll make up with Sweetie and finish the orders as quick as possible.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

A loud scraping sound kicked Rarity out of her slumber as she jumped out of bed, scattering sheets around the room in her panic. She looked about for a moment, beginning to get worried as she couldn't see anything, before she realized her mask was still on. Removing the mask, she took a second look around. There was silence for a moment or two before she heard another loud scrape. Shivering, Rarity slowly approached the door to her room and gently opened it to peek outside. She leaned back and forth, trying to see if anything was wrong. Upon hearing yet another scraping sound, but still seeing nothing, she opened the door all the way and left her room. Before she decided to look around the house, she headed straight for her sister's room. Opening the door, she saw Sweetie Belle was still asleep, safe and sound. Rarity wondered if she was just a heavy sleeper, or couldn't hear that awful noise. Regardless, Sweetie Belle seemed to be alright for now.

With that relief in mind, she set about looking around the Boutique. First starting in the Bathroom, she found nothing. Then, proceeding to the kitchen, she gazed about and found even more nothing. It wasn't until she checked the studio that she found something wrong. All five of her ponnequins were gone. Before she could even react to her missing purchase and her projects, she heard another scrape, coming from the showroom. She peeked around the corner and looked into the room, and found one of the ponnequins set in front of the door. Despite all of her instincts telling her to run, she couldn't help but approach the statuesque mimic. She reached for it, just before its head spun around and stared directly at her. She jumped back in fright, landing on her rump, before she scrambled to get back to her hooves and flee. As she she was about to take off back through the boutique, she ran into another one, which caused her to fall back once again.

She gasped in fright as she began to hear more scraping sounds. First to her left, as another ponnequine appeared. Then to her right, as yet another emerged from seemingly nowhere. She gazed back behind her, where the front door was, and saw now two were blocking the exit. Even if she had an opening, she wouldn't leave without Sweetie.

Even if she made you delay again?

"Wh-what?" Rarity stuttered, frightfully bewildered, seeming to hear a distorted version of her own voice.

You'd have been done long ago if she weren't here.

"N-no!"

You wouldn't have to feel so bad about something so time consuming and pointless.

"STOP IT!"

Too late now.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" she shrieked as she scrambled back to her hooves and attempted to strike one of them. Suddenly, the one attacked swiftly snapped its foreleg, and struck Rarity away, causing her to crash back to the ground. From the point of contact, however, floated what seemed to be an elongated strand of thread. As Rarity rose back to her hooves once again, she rubbed her cheek, only to find something poking out from it. She gripped it with her hoof and pulled on nothing but thread. The very lengthy thread that was hovering in the air. Her eyes widened in horror as the unicorn ponnequin's horn flared crimson, and engulfed the tail end of the thread.

You aren't needed anymore. So easy. So emotional. It's time to move on.

The thread then began to tug, and pull away from Rarity, splitting her alabaster coat like fraying fabric. Beneath the coat, however, was a hard surface, almost like the ponnequins' surrounding her. As the thread kept pulling, more of her coat began to split and come away. Pieces of her coat and mane began to fall away as her breath quickened, becoming harsher by the second, until the fear finally took over, and she screamed.

Author's Note

BTW, Green Tea is known to calm one's nerves and relieve stress. Food for thought.

Will Dog You 'Til You Die

Sweetie Belle stirred as the alarm clock in her room rang. With a whine and a groan, she sat up upon her bed, and smacked the clock with her hoof. As a yawn escaped her, she slipped off the bed and looked around, noticing all of her notes and books were picked up and placed neatly beside her pack. She moved over to them, looked through the pages, and with a small smile, she slipped them all into her packs before rushing out of her room with packs across her back. After first running through her morning routine, she then raced down to the kitchen, and found her sister up, humming a tune, and cooking breakfast for them. Sweetie smiled, but only for a second, unsure if Rarity was still angry at her, despite the implications. She placed her pack in the corner, and walked up to her sister.

"Uhm, Rarity? G-good morning."

Rarity turned to her, gave her a look of surprise, and then brought her close for a deep hug. "Oh, Sweetie Belle, good morning!" She then let go of Sweetie and returned to her cooking.

Sweetie giggled at the sudden embrace and the rather jovial attitude Rarity was sporting. "So, I guess you got your project done then?"

"Oh, that old thing? Yeah, I managed to finish it last night. It's taken me ages, and it's now under a protective cover, but that's not important." She stopped cooking, turning off the stove, turned to Sweetie, and sat down to be at her level. "What IS important is that I apologize to you, right now. I've been positively GHASTLY last night, and I'm so ashamed that I hurt you like that. I had no right to scream like I did, especially since all you wanted to do was help and make amends."

"It's alright, Rarity," She said with a small smile, "I still should have tried to stop my friends from going through with the plan anyway. I mean, I knew it wouldn't have worked anyway. I probably could have-"

"It doesn't really matter, anymore," she said, giving Sweetie another hug. "In fact, since the most pressing order is done, I'll have a fair bit more freedom to work on the others..." She paused, giving Sweetie a sly look, "... and I could probably use your help after school."

"Do you really mean it, Rarity!?"

"Of course!" She said with a smile as she stood back up, flaring her horn with a crimson glow, plated their breakfast, and set the table.

Sweetie Belle couldn't be more happy to hear such an answer. Elated by the news, she pranced to her seat with vigor, and ate the delicious spread her older sister had taken the time to finish for her. It was a lovely little bonding moment draped in an atmosphere of warmed hearts.

However, before they could spend the moment in peace, the twinkle of the front door's bell alerted them to a customer.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back." With that said, she rose from her seat and proceeded to the store room, greeting none other than Spoiled Rich. "Oh! You're early, Mrs. Rich. Well, come, right this way. I have your dress ready for you."

"Indeed you should have," she declared with a haughty tone, "At the very least, you are punctual when it comes to your important clients. I was almost anticipating that I'd have had to cancel my business with you, considering your... nature as an 'artist'. Not even mentioning the attitude your younger sibling and her friends have when it comes to my Diamond."

Sweetie Belle, having been eavesdropping on the conversation from her seat thus far, decided to get closer and peek around the corner and into the studio, where both her sister and Spoiled Rich had now stood.

"Is that so? Well, allow me to dissuade those thoughts and present you with this!" Rarity said as she removed the cover and presented the absolutely stunning and well fashioned dress. Spoiled Rich stood utterly stunned and flabbergasted, unable to form words that could express how she felt. Even the term overjoyed was beyond pitiful as a proper emotional description for her. "Well, is it too your liking?"

Spoiled snapped out of her stupor, and regained her haughty atmosphere, but spoke rather pleasantly for the first time. "It is very much to my liking, Ms. Rarity. It has gone above and beyond my expectations."

"Really? I'm glad to hear that." It was then that she gripped the dress by her hooves, and tore it away from the ponnequin, before tearing the remains in half, and tossing them aside. Sweetie was utterly stunned and dumbfounded as she watched her older sister pretty much commit vesticide in front of her client. Spoiled Rich was no better, now audibly stumbling over her words as she watched on.

"Wh-w-w-wha-what have you done?!" Mrs. Rich managed to finally ask.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you actually care about that?" Rarity said with a smug smile.

"Y-you... You..."

"I just lost a customer, correct?" she said with a chuckle, "Well, considering that you're a demanding, egotistical, and downright rude mare that has not only insulted my artistic integrity, but has ALSO insulted my family to my face, I don't think I'll be missing out."

"Bu-b-but-"

"BUT, I don't come to you and insult your intelligence or your daughter, now do I? Whatever issues my sister has with your precious little Diamond is between the two of them, and is no grounds for either of us to denounce the other just because of schoolyard troubles. Isn't that right?"

"I-"

"Furthermore, I can make a dress just like that whenever I want, as long as I have the time. If you wish to apologize to me for your behavior earlier in the week and your comments today, I'll be happy to do business with you again. In the meantime, perhaps it would be prudent if you leave."

Spoiled Rich, for the third time, was stunned. No further words could even be uttered, as she simply turned away from Rarity, walked out of the studio, and out the front door, with the little bell signalling her departure.

Sweetie Bell then came out of hiding and raced up to Rarity. "That was so COOL!" she exclaimed in excitement.

"Were you eavesdropping, Sweetie?"

The little filly shrank a little. "A bit."

She gave the little filly another hug before patting her head. "It's alright, though you should get back to your breakfast. It's probably getting cold, after all, and you'll be late for school if you dawdle too much."

She raced back to the table, swiftly ate her meal, and put her school bag on. "Thanks sis!" She then proceeded to the front door, ready to head to school.

"Oh, and one more thing, before you go." She started.

"Yes?"

"You're no longer grounded."

Sweetie was dumbstruck for all of two seconds before her elation translated to a high pitched squeal of joy. "THANK YOU, SIS!" she exclaimed, before racing out the door and off to school.

Alone now, Rarity gave a light chuckle, proud of what she did and said today. She turned to the six ponnequins in the studio with a smile. "From now on, I'm going to do everything right. Everything a proper lady should do. I mean, you WERE given a chance, after all." She gave a sigh, turning away from the group of still, cold objects. "Keep your temper." She said with an ominous chuckle. Her eyes then flashed a deep blood red, before she trotted off to clean up the kitchen, humming a happy tune to herself and kicked away a few offending strands of purple hair and scraps of alabaster fabric that lay at her hooves.

As she did, whited eyes and mute, horrified screams cursed as a motionless churning thrashed within the hardened makeup of the new unicorn ponnequin, desperate to get out and hopelessly lost in despair. The stillness was agonizing, but the very real senses were so much worse: To hear her sister be fooled by the imposter, to see her smile, to watch as she happily hugged the horrid thing that wore her skin. Her life was gone, and a mimic, a phantom doppleganger, had it in a stranglehold. All she could do was scream, and no one would hear her. No one, but the creature with the red eyes that stole her life, and the other trapped, lifeless husks that she had joined.

-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-

And as her years go by, dear audience, she would come to watch life continue on without her, until the fake was done with the set and decided to send the little collection off to a new customer. Perhaps the next one would heed the warning and stay calm within such unfair constraints. Then again, the odds were so stacked, there was little anyone else could have done in such a scenario, especially when it comes to the exceedingly stressful world of art. However, despite her bleak outcome, remember this well: Take the time to express all your feelings in healthy, controlled ways, and do take care to not let bottled rage explode on someone you love, lest you lose your chance to apologize.

With that said, the strange figure took a bow, satisfied with his work as the lights flickered off one by one, until nothing more than the silver glow of the moon remained to light the lonely theater. A wolf howled in the distance as clouds shrouded the lunar illumination, and painted the open aired structure in pitch black. As the wolf's cry died in the air, the ambience became thick and still like windless fog.

Author's Note

vestis (latin) = clothing

Also, happy Nightmare Night everyone!