The Town That Feared Nightfall

The door squeaked as it opened. Rosey peaked inside, half expecting there to be some sort of monster on the other side waiting for her. She took a deep inhale, glancing behind her one last time before she barged in. She slammed the door with such force that she had flinched from the sound. She then took a moment to gather her bearings as the weight of what she was doing fully hit her.

She’s inside Fritter Belle’s house. Trespassing, possibly to steal something to prove a ridiculous and far fetched theory that she didn’t even fully understand. But she didn’t have time to change her mind, now that she’s here she might as well get to looking. Fritter Belle’s home was rather small, at least to Rosey’s perspective. The walls were made from stone. The grey paint faded and a second coat was obviously visible underneath. She saw only two rooms on either side on the opposite end with a large table seated against the left entrance way.

As Rosey trotted towards the easternmost room she wondered something, just what was she looking for exactly? Bubble Rain had said she found bits of an apple and bread inside Fritter Belle’s belly so was she looking for half eaten food? Some sort of spices that could be lethal if one wasn’t careful? She glared inside the room she had approached and saw a blue carpet that had very much resembled water. There were two very small dressers against the wall and two beds with pink covers laid against the opposite side.

Rosey turned away and approached the other room and was presently surprised to see that it was the kitchen. She began searching it immediately, almost instinctively as she tore open the cabinets and dug through various crates of corn and beans. She noticed plates on the floor that were shattered. She grasped what seemed to the remains of a bottle of hot sauce.

“This is odd” Rosey spoke to herself, examining a drawing made with crayon. “It almost looks like a dragon..”

She knelled down on the floor sliding the broken shards off of one another when suddenly a thought had crossed her mind. She peered over at the oven, one shard of a plate sticking out from underneath it. She lowered her head so that it was on the floor and thus allowed her to see underneath the oven. She saw something. Rosey stretched her hoof, fumbling about until she had grabbed the thing she had seen.

She pulled it free from under the oven and, after blowing the dirt and dust bunnies off, stared at what laid in her hoof. “What in Lun-I reached under a dirty oven for candy wrappers?" Rosey groaned. She started to roll up the useless trash she had found when she noticed some writing on it. She unrolled the paper wrapping and straighten it the best that she could along the oven’s surface. Then she read the words aloud, “Minty's Fire And Ice bubblegum, Minty..? Where have I heard that name before?”

Rosey pondered for only a brief moment before she stuck the paper wrapping inside her pocket. “Who knows, it does say try at your own risk” she mumbled to herself, straining a bit as she stood up. “Stupid limbs cramping up..”

Rosey kept searching through the kitchen until she was certain that there was nothing else there. The only food she could find were corn, beans, loaf of bread which she dismissed by its’ unopened plastic bag, and a large quantity of milk. Rosey wandered back into the main room, her eyes glancing only briefly at the table that was pretty barren safe for a single cup of water. Was this the entire house? Rosey had expected it to be a single floor as the red roof lacked any windows, but there should be more than just these three rooms.

Rosey had decided to head back to tell Bubble Rain that the only thing she found were useless candy wrappers. But as she turned to take one last look she saw something that had caught her eye. Between the two walls and down a rather short and unnecessary hallway was a single window. The sun was casting a faint ray of light through its’ red curtains, there laid a trap door.

Rosey trotted over to it, almost zombie-like in her slow approach. She stared at it for only a moment before she gripped the handle, swung it open and gazed down inside. Rosey entered what she assumed was the basement, the flight of stairs only having about five or six steps to descend. It was dark with only a single light that barely illuminated enough for her to see her footing. Fumbling along the wall Rosey came to a door and, to her relief, a light switch just beside it.

She flipped it, covering her eyes until they had adjusted to the bright and newly welcomed light. Rosey saw that she was in a narrow hallway that was just large enough for maybe two ponies to walk side by side in. The walls were made from bricks that ranged from deep red and light grey. This set Rosey’s systems into overload as it was so ugly to her that she went in searched for a pickaxe, wanting to tear down the walls and rebuild it in a much neater and cleaner fashion.

But her search of a pickaxe was quickly discarded as she entered the closest room. It was shaped like a right side up rectangle with an even narrower hallway that, from Rosey’s imagination, made it look like a Popsicle that was wider than it was tall. Inside the room was a square table, scrolls and books laid scattered and forgotten across its’ surface.

Rosey approached the table out of curiosity and felt one of the books. The red leather felt worn, the golden letters that etched across the surface shimmered in the light. “Where To And Back Again” Rosey had read silently. As she flipped through the book she was careful not to rip the pages as they felt very light to the touch. She became so intrigued by the story within the pages that she was sad to see it was left unfinished. An ink pot and quill laid untouched just to her left along with rolled up sheets of parchment that were discarded on the floor.

Rosey slide to where she was hovering over the scrolls like a researcher would over his own work. She began digging through them and soon she became aware that these weren’t just ordinary scrolls of parchment, they were diary pages. “Oh boy...” Rosey spoke, biting the very tip of her hoof nervously. “I can’t just go reading private scrolls..my mom would kill me!”

Rosey had stood up but as she motioned forward she had bitten her lip. What if there was something important in those scrolls? Something that could lead towards the proof that Bubble Rain wanted? Rosey shook her head, telling herself no. But what if there was something important? What if Fritter Belle’s ghost came back to haunt her? “Why? Why did you read my private journal? I didn’t mean to! I just thought...Oh you thought? Well, I suppose I can forgive that...If I wasn’t dead! I’m sorry..please forgi..”

Rosey slapped herself. “Don’t go talking to yourself like that” she sternly told herself. She raised a hoof to her chest, slowly lowering it in a wavy fashion as she exhaled. She stared back at the scrolls. The image of Fritter Belle’s lifeless body came to focus. “Please forgive me..” she said in a muffled whine as she sat back on the floor. She struggled to read as she began from going through the scrolls.

Diary, Page 2011, YR 2019

Well, Nightmare Night is just less than a month away! I really can't wait to see my dad again, I wonder if he’ll like my plans for NMN? I helped Sky Pop pay for the camping trip this year. She really should take a week off herself. All she does is work and talk to the occasional customer. The phones seems like a waste of bits and time to me, it’s not like we can call anypony outside of town so why did we even bother?

Diary, Page 2024, YR 2019

Left town today to visit a friend over in Ponyville, as usual she gave me strawberries and I had to duck them. I don’t mind strawberries, but the tiny seeds in them...ugh! On the way home I saw somepony following me. I had assumed it was Strawberry Sunrise but..I’ve heard tales of a monster that lived in the trees, but I swear that it was just a normal pony that I saw. I didn't see them for any longer than a few moments, I really only caught a glimpse of a red hood. I think I had too much to drink, I'm sure that was it.

P.S, remember to give Poppy Dancer her present later on tonight.

Diary, Page 2043, YR 2019

Well, the town's yearly "father and child" Holiday officially started today. If I was just a bit younger my dad and I would go, but even if I was he isn't even here to take me. I really can't wait for him to get home. We have tourists in town, what an odd rarity at this time of year! I'm so thrilled because, and I swear I'm not lying, but one of the Elements Of Harmony is with them! My personal fave, I might add. I just have to ask her for dinner! That is, if I can get work done fast enough. Sky Pop would be lost without me.

Diary, Page 2045, YR 2019

Pinkie Pie is just as fun to hang with as I imagined she would be! Although her friend seemed just a bit nosy, I caught him reading the book I’ve been writing. Which stallion was Speedy and Axl again? I can’t remember right now, let’s just say Pinkie really loves her cider. And apples. That cute little filly was just precious, and generous! She gave me a basket of applies! I’ve been wanting to bake an apple pie all month, maybe I should invite Rosey for supper tomorrow?

Rosey held a hoof to her lips as she read the last entry. It brought a tear to her eye. “Maybe I should had stayed at the party longer?” Rosey asked herself, feeling somewhat guilty and at fault for not getting to know the winged mare more. “Wait a moment here..” Rosey suddenly went back to a previous entry, examining one of the paragraphs more closely. “A red hood..?”

Rosey was surprised at this detail, so surprised in fact that she felt a bit eerie. She felt terrified at best. Rosey began searching through the scrolls dated further back, sliding them away and off of the table until she had came to the conclusion that this was the sole mention of a red hood. She was disappointed. Rosey took a sigh as she remembered why she was there. As she stood up Rosey noticed the amount of scrolls she had discarded. She couldn’t just leave them, that would be disrespectful.

As she started to pick up her mess and carefully laid the scrolls back on the table she noticed something quite odd. On the back of a scroll was another one, it was seemingly glued in a very organize fashion and she could tell at first glance that it was not written by Fritter Belle. Firstly the handwriting was different, secondly it was written in what appeared to be blue ink. Rosey read it, saying out loud:

Three years it has been since that fateful day

Most dare not to think of such dismay

But I remember a question so tragic

For whatever happened to the friendship we called magic?

Rosey stared at the scroll, her eyes scanning the words and their possible meaning. “Who wrote this..?” she whispered loudly. “Three years ago..” she had added under her breath. She rubbed the tip of her nose as it felt an little itchy, as she did so she had sneezed and the scrolls that she had just picked up scattered once more. “Ugh..” she grunted loudly. “You know what? Forget this”.

Rosey stood up with such force that her flank had hit the table, knocking it over along with all of it’s contents. She would had yelled a foul curse if she wasn’t trespassing in a dead mare’s home. Instead she held her mouth tightly shut by her hoof, staring over her new mess briefly before she had bolted out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

“That---did not happen” she told herself. “Nope, did not happen..and even if it had I wasn’t here”. Rosey stepped away from the door staring in both directions. She saw that there was one more room, just a few steps down the hallway. “I swear if there’s a mummy in there..oh, great, now I’m scaring myself..” Rosey said in a grunt.

Rosey dreaded carefully up to the second and final door, nudging it open as she silently slide herself through like a snake. She assumed she was in a dressing room, judging by the amount of dressers and cabinets. She shrugged, saying “Might as well” as she began searching them. She saw another door almost instantly in the back but she ignored it. These dressers were large enough to hide a single pony in them and, after having thought that, had to open every single one of them.

The dressers all held the same amount of clothes that were of various sizes, shapes and colors. Rosey could just about assume that Fritter Belle owned a boutique by the large quantity of fabric. She turned to the tinier cabinets that were settled closer to the door that she had entered from. She thought that a small foal could had been stuffed into one of them and, like previous, had to check them all just to be sure. They mostly held pillow cases and gems, some of which were blue and pointed with some baring a jagged green stripe across their surface.

“Fritter Belle must’ve been rich” Rosey had thought. As she looked over the gems she couldn’t help but wonder their purpose. Fritter Belle likely didn’t have a dragon nor were these gems stitched into anything else in the wardrobes. So where they just collectables? Did Fritter Belle collect all of this stuff? “Hm..most of these things were stacked neatly, even folded” Rosey began talking to herself. “But in a couple, their thrown about messily. Almost...almost like somepony was rushing through them?”

Rosey went through several ideas and just ended up confusing herself with a headache. Then she turned back at that last door. She approached it, using her left leg to gently shove it open. She stepped through, thinking “OK, whoever build this place had a real heart for hallways..it’s kinda depressing, come to think of it” but she was cut off short as she entered the final room in the basement.

She was standing in a large square of a room, well more like half of a square but she didn’t care as the walls were evenly cut and aligned. To her it was perfect, or at least better than the precious rooms. Centered against the back wall was a bed with brightly colored sheets that bared a floral pattern in the form of silhouettes. To the right hand side of the bed and to Rosey’s left was a nightstand. Over to the left hand side of the bed was a mirror.

As soon as she had seen the mirror Rosey approached it. Her eyes locked with those of her reflection that stared back at her with baggy eyes and a weaken expression. She held her chest and breathed slowly, but not calmly. She gripped the table that the mirror sat on and felt her limbs twitch which had made her grip tighten even more. She made mumbled noises like she was trying to speak. She shouldn’t be here, it just wasn’t her place yet it had made sense at the time. What would one of Fritter Belle’s friends do in her spot? Would they be too heartbroken, distraught to even do the task she was given? Would they refuse the ridiculous idea of murder? Outcast Bubble Rain for the mere suggestion or, and this was a little bit more towards Rosey’s own state of being, panic?

“I...need to leave” Rosey told herself, her reflection on the verge of weeping. “I...I just have to”.

Rosey had just spun around, her gaze breaking free of her reflection’s when she suddenly noticed a basket that laid beside the bed. She slid over to it, her hoof instinctively reached out and took one of the red circular fruit. It was half eaten, covered in sticky toffee and was quite cold to the touch. Rosey seemed to be entrance by the apple. She sighed, deeply relieved at her find.

“Surly this will answer Bubble Rain’s question” Rosey spoke aloud as she stood up.

Rosey stared at the apple, then at the basket it and before staring back at the apple in her hoof. Something wasn’t right here. She could just feel that something was out of place in this picture. Then it hit her just as she glanced back at the mirror. That face her reflection gave her said it all. Judging by the single bite mark in the apple she could assume that this was what had poisoned Fritter Belle. But if that was the case, if this was indeed a murder weapon, as it would be called, why was it placed back in the basket?