Rotten to the Core

It seemed that a period had finally passed by. Applebloom and her friends had finally obtained their cutie marks, a feat that seemed to finally put their crusades to rest. Applejack was overjoyed for her sister, yet…

She was tired and worn, though she hid it well. Her nights had not gone well in the few days since the big event.

The dreams she’d been… no, not dreams. They were not dreams, she knew that now.

She’d wake up in the dead of night to hear things. Shuffling. Scratching. Whimpers, or growls, or moans. Occasionally a sudden rush of hooves that stops as suddenly as it began.

And she was never able to move. Never able to do anything save stare in terror, trying and failing to get her legs and mouth to work. Forced to listen to those sounds, and hear them coming closer.

The first night, it was just the sounds. The first night, she was certain it was just a dream, just a nightmare. Nothing to be worked up about; it had only lasted a little more than an hour.

The second night she heard voices. ‘Almost there’. ‘We’re so close’. ‘Finally’. Hissing ugly voices, and the piercing sensation of being stared. It persisted for hours that time; all the way to the first glitters of sunlight. She assumed that was a dream as well, though it left her shaken and considering asking Princess Luna to do something.

Last night was the worst however. Again, she had been woken suddenly by the soft sounds. But that time…

She saw… something. Several somethings.

Phantoms of red blurs standing over her. How many, she wasn't sure. They were indistinct, but they were eager, hissing, trying to… to reach her. Sharp teeth the only thing certain about them, the sharpest teeth she’d ever seen bared huge in smiles.

Yet that hadn’t been the worst part. As her heart thundered in her chest, she had moved.

Unable to stop herself, her head shifted to see them directly. Terrified to the point of non-thinking, her body had moved for her. Pushing the covers off of herself. Spreading herself out on her back, uncomfortably stretching her legs out into an x. Pushing herself up toward the blurs above herself, every action entirely not her own choice.

As if she had been offering herself to them.

She knew it wasn't a dream anymore:

She still ached from that stretch, one she had held for hours. All night to be specific. Dreams don’t hurt.

A sense of dread hung over her, a sense of… inevitability.

As if her fate was waiting for her, so close she could reach out and touch it. All consuming and impossible to evade. Perhaps she might have given thought to fight against it, gather her friends and try, but…

Her own body had acted against her every wish to run. Against her every wish to curl up and hide under the bed. She, against everything she wanted, had offered herself to them, and she could do nothing save endure the aching pain as the hours stretched, the nightmare as it kept going, the blurs above her riling, fighting to reach down.

She didn’t suspect, she knew she didn’t have a choice anymore. They were coming, and she would not fight against it. Not by choice.

She felt it was soon. This night. If she listened, she could just convince herself she heard shuffling.

Whatever was going to happen…

It wasn't good. It couldn’t be good.

Applejack sighed, and refocused on her cooking breakfast. She was up, early, for obvious reasons. Trying to imagine what she should do, or if she should even go and ask somepony as she finished her breakfast. Silently, she walked to the table, only to pause, her ear flicking up. Had she heard..?

A sudden rush of hooves behind her made her freeze. But they didn’t stop, coming closer, and closer, so fast, not stopping,

“Applejack?”

Applejack shrieked in pure fear, tossing her breakfast into the ceiling, where the bowl actually went through the ceiling itself, and Applejack very nearly went right through the wall before Applebloom’s own shriek of fright got her to stop on the verge of destroying it.

She turned in panic just barely able to shift toward panic over Applebloom, and it took several moments for her to recall that Applebloom’s natural mane color was red. But when that finally penetrated, she relaxed greatly.

It had just been Applebloom. The gaping, shocked filly who was alternating toward looking up at the ceiling and at Applejack.

Applejack shook herself, taking a few breaths. “Good mornin Applebloom.” she said as normal as she could make it, the only oddity being maybe a little out of breath. “Up early too?”

Applebloom didn’t respond, staring up at the hole still. Applejack glanced that way, and though a small part of her sighed at her careless destruction, another, growing, part said it was pointless anyway.

“…Jus,” she began, before Macintosh came downstairs, with a look of baffled worry on his face. The pair looked over at him.

“…Buncha fried oat jus…” he murmured, before looking at the ceiling, and then at Applejack. She gave him a mostly nervous grin. “…Ya’ll O.K?”

“I’m fine.” she said quickly, heading past to get a new breakfast. “Oats?”

“Ya screamed.” Applebloom finally said, shaking her shock mostly off. “I never heard ya scream like that afore.”

“Jus feelin tense.” Applejack said, doing her utmost to hide what she really felt. Her hooves felt clumsy after her sudden fright. She managed to grab the oats, and pour a bowl of them raw, spilling only a bit.

She turned back, and Applebloom and Macintosh seemed ill accepting of tension as a reason to scream like she had. “…Bad night?” she more suggested than offered, her smile rather weak.

Macintosh just went over to her, and placed a hoof on her shoulder, and looked at her. “…What’s wrong?” he asked, his peaceful eyes staring into her own.

“…” Applejack swallowed, and made a choice. “Nothin I can’t handle.” she told him, her voice small. “Ya don’t have ta worry bout me.”

“…Ya got family an friends.” Macintosh told her. “Ya don’t gotta do it alone.”

“…I know.” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes anymore.

The rest of the day went… a fair number of ponies felt something was up with Applejack. She lived that day strong. Spending time with her family, and then her friends, in an unusual case of Applejack going to find them, just to hang out.

That was considered odd, but it was her final words to each that made suspicions grow a little:

“Love ya.”

Said to each friend as she left them, said with great meaning and depth, always so that she was already gone by the time they managed to process what she had just said. And instead of going to find her, they went to find each other, asking one another what might be up with Applejack. Some much slower than others, as her words were easily taken the incorrect way. In the end, they decided to go and visit her together to ask what she meant. Tomorrow.

Applejack wasn't the only one acting strangely either: Granny Apple herself. She spent the day thinking, her face scowling as she tried to recall something. It began the moment she saw Applejack, and lasted beyond the time when Applejack said goodnight to everypony, something she did rarely if at all, and added that she loved them.

Her siblings felt concerned, but Granny seemed not to even notice. Thinking hard. Occasionally muttering to herself, bits of words that made no sense.

She stayed up as they went to bed. Then, she finally broke her concentration, looked at the clock, and nodded.

She got up, and went to a particular spot on the floor. A few attempts later, and a board shifted under her pull. She reached under it, and took out a few things; two small bags and a golden emblem.

Then she went to the front door, and opening one bag, she took out a single piece of white chalk. A moment of thought passed before she drew a circle on the door, and then a star of eight points within the circle. Then she took red chalk form the same bag, and each arm of the star gained a red line, from center to tip, the center possessing a new circle of red.

Then she nodded.

That would do.

She went through the door, and passed into the dark night beyond.