La Pomme Boutique

by Magpiepony

Rating: mature
Tags: Suicide / Self Harm, Horror, Profanity, Violence, Death, Sweetie Belle, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Rarity, Thriller, Fluttershy
Length: 13730

A story of love, of loss, of terror and haunts. Rarity was just trying to open another boutique, but this one refuses to let her leave alive.

It was going to be just another boutique; another expansion in Rarity's fashion empire. However, this building has a sorted and terrifying history that she purposefully shrugged off as mere myth. Now she is trapped inside this haunted building with Applejack fighting the nightmares it assaults her with at every turn. What is coming for her? What is she running from? What dark secrets lie beneath and between these walls?

This is the final piece I have written for TheLostNarrator's 2019 Halloween specials, it was a labor of love and I am very proud of how it came out :) - Magpiepony

Story inspired by "1408" by Stephen King

Published 2019-10-31 07:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-31 07:20:01 UTC

Just Another Boutique...

The journey from Ponyville to Salt Lick City was a long one, but Fluttershy was more than happy to make it for her friend Rarity. It had been a few weeks since she had seen the prominent fashion icon, and she was looking forward to the visit, but not without a few trepidations. She’d left Discord in charge of her animals while she was away; something the animals feared would turn disastrous. However, Fluttershy’s concerns were not for the loved ones she had left behind, rather the loved one she was going to see. Rarity had been distancing herself from her friends, and though she claimed it was a product of expansion, Fluttershy feared it was something else; something more troubling.

Fluttershy had followed the map to the letter, and paused in front of an older-looking building not too far from the heart of the city. If she hadn’t seen the ‘coming soon’ sign out front, she wouldn’t have believed this was the place. It was a modest two-story building of brick that had once been painted a neutral white color, much like the buildings nearby. However, the paint was chipping away to reveal the naked brick underneath and the windows were fogged and cracked. The flora around the building was dead and overgrown with weeds. She also noted how strange it seemed that a business would be standing alone when the lands around it seemed perfectly useable. Hesitantly, she walked up the broken path to the decaying wooden door.

Fluttershy reached out her hoof to knock on the door, but she heard it unlock from the opposite side and slowly open.

“Oh, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked, putting a hoof to the door to open it further. It groaned in response and only opened part of the way to allow her entrance. She didn’t see her friend waiting on the other side of the door as she expected, and didn’t hear the familiar tinkle of magic. Confused, she looked around the main shop space, and could only see boxes pressed up against walls with flaking floral wallpaper.

“Fluttershy? Is that you, darling?” Rarity’s voice called from a distance, somewhere from the upper level of the building.

“Oh, yes, it’s me.” Fluttershy said as she squeezed her way inside, noting that it was a pile of new boxes that had blocked the door from opening in its entirety.

Rarity spotted Fluttershy standing at the entrance as she trotted down the staircase to greet her. Even with her light gait, each step creaked and groaned under the pressure.

“It is so good to see you!” Rarity embraced her friend in a hug.

“It’s good to see you too, I’m sorry no pony else could make it with me.” Fluttershy returned the hug, feeling compelled to apologize on their behalf.

“Nonsense! We all have our lives to attend to after all. I can’t expect my friends to drop everything and help me ready a new boutique every time I choose to expand.” Rarity said with a smile. “Besides, our friends will all take turns, and you are only the first. I’m sure we will make light work of it.”

Fluttershy softly smiled back and nodded until Rarity turned away, then her expression shifted to one of concern. Now that she was inside the potential boutique, her initial feeling of concern felt even more warranted. Rarity had boxes piled on boxes, many of them precariously perched on top of the other. The wooden rafters above looked brittle and ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Pony mannequins were disassembled and strewn about, and the only visible dresses hung from a single rack towards the back of the room. Fluttershy noted that she had more outfits in her own closet than Rarity had ready to display, but there was a single sewing desk and armoire with pieces that still needed to be assembled.

However, there were some comforting homey touches that brought a smile to Fluttershy’s face. Rarity’s fainting couch was right out front for guests to have their own dramatic moments. Pictures of Rarity’s other fashion adventures were hung around the room, attempting to mask the peeling bare wall. There was one picture that stuck out to Fluttershy though; a picture of all of their friends after their first adventure. It was nice to see Rarity still remembered that she had ponies who truly cared about her.

“Um. Are you sure we can get this place ready in time for your new Summer Sensational collection? It seems like quite a bit of work needs to be done.” Fluttershy asked.

“Summer Sensational? No no, this year I’m expanding my country chique collection! Besides, I’m not afraid to get my hooves a little dirty for the sake of fashion! This place does need a little extra T.L.C., I’ll admit, but it was a COMPLETE bargain! Not to mention the fact that it’s walking distance from the main square. I really lucked out with this one.” Rarity reassured her as she levitated a box with her magic and tore off the tape.

“Oh, well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you.” Fluttershy chimed in cheerfully, trotting to Rarity’s side ready for her first task.

“Wonderful! If you would be so kind as to help me unload my sewing supplies into these cupboards and dressers here, it would be much appreciated.”

“Of course.” Fluttershy agreed, as she followed Rarity’s example and picked up an unopened box to sort.

Unpacking was a tedious chore. Fluttershy and Rarity both felt each minute slowly tick by with no apparent end in sight. They kept a light conversation going to distract themselves from the mundane tasks at hoof, but Fluttershy made extra sure the topics remained casual. Since she had last seen her, she wasn’t sure how to really gauge what Rarity was feeling, but she wasn’t one to press the matter. Once the pair of them had spent their energy, Rarity lit her horn for light and laid out a spread of berries and pastries for them to eat.

“I do apologize for the lack of adequate lighting, this place wasn’t wired for new illumination technology. It’s over 200 years old, in fact.” Rarity informed her.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Fluttershy fibbed. She knew the real cause for discomfort didn’t come from a lack of light, but rather the cold of the musty room. Rainstorms were keeping the pleasant weather at bay for the moment. Searching the room for a solution, her eyes feel upon an old stone fireplace. Nearly petrified pieces of timber laid ready, begging for a match to warm them. Even so, Fluttershy averted her gaze and said nothing, allowing Rarity to come up with her own solutions. She had always been overly accommodating despite her own needs. To distract herself, she kept the conversation going.

“What kind of store was this back then?”

“A barber shop, back when Salt Lick City was first founded. Eventually it turned into all manner of things: A doctor’s office, a floral shop, even a private detective’s headquarters! You can see the evidence of its history all around this place. That wallpaper, for instance, was probably used when this was a flower shop. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? A place with as much history as this is sure to overfill me with inspiration. That’s one of my secrets to a successful business, darling.”

Fluttershy nodded, unable to respond with her mouth full of pastry.

“I spent most of the morning organizing the rooms upstairs: the bedroom, the bathroom, and the like. Eventually I will use them as storage or perhaps the bulk of the sewing, but we need somewhere to live for now. Come!” Rarity magically gathered the remaining uneaten food and stored it away, pointing to the stairs for Fluttershy to follow.

The ambiance of the building changed for the worse for Fluttershy, once they made their way up the stairs. The sun had set, and this old place moaned and whined from the lightest breeze. It was then she really noticed how jarringly frightening the sound of the stair creaks were. Fluttershy knew that old wood had a tendency of falling apart if not properly maintained, and this certainly didn’t look too promising. Rarity didn’t seem to notice, however, as she trotted up the steps confidently. Fluttershy chose to fly instead.

“You don’t mind sharing a bed, do you? I’m afraid I have only one. The couch is an option as well, but I’m not sure how comfortable that will be for you.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind sharing the bed, I did it all the time at home with Angel bunny, and he was a bit of a blanket hog.” Fluttershy giggled.

Rarity smiled warmly and pushed open the bedroom door. The bedroom was much smaller compared to the main floor of the house. It was barely big enough to fit a bed, a dresser, and Rarity’s many dozens of luggage pieces. Fluttershy wasn’t sure how she could find any specific bag in all the chaos, but Rarity magicked up her nightly regimen satchel without blinking an eye. Through a murky window, Fluttershy spotted a bolt of lightning from a fast-approaching spring rainstorm. She had already had her fill of frights for the evening, and burrowed herself in bed. Fluttershy’s only comfort came from Rarity’s chipper humming as she was rolling curlers into her mane.

Fluttershy needed a better distraction for herself, so even though she didn’t plan to, she decided to pry a little. “It’s been a while since most of Ponyville has seen you...how have you been?”

“Busy. Always busy. I have so many boutiques now that I can hardly keep them straight! ‘Rarity for You’ was almost completely out of their spring collection after the first three days, and the boutiques in Canterlot and Hoofington ran into some technical problems. I suppose I can’t complain, though. I like being kept on my hooves.” Rarity said. “And what about you? How are things in Ponyville?”

Fluttershy was taken aback by Rarity’s response. She was expecting some hesitation, or maybe even some defensiveness, but not complete confidence. She realized too late that Rarity had asked her a question in return, and hurriedly responded. “They’re… managing as well as anypony can expect. It’s not the same, though.”

“Good. I’ll have to make sure to visit… once I’m not busy, of course. I’m sure Yona is more than capable of holding down the fort while I am away.” Rarity said, climbing into bed.

“Every pony misses you… especially Sweetie Belle.” Fluttershy hesitated. “She says you haven’t been writing back. She’s really worried about you.”

“Oh? Well, then the mail must have gotten lost.” Rarity blurted. “Anyway, I’m rather tired, I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow. Goodnight Fluttershy.” She lowered her face mask over her eyes and turned away from her friend.

Fluttershy watched Rarity settle in, a worried expression still clearly stamped on her face.
How was it that she could remain so calm and collected? She knew that every pony worked through problems at their own pace, but Rarity’s complete lack of emotional attachment was not something Fluttershy was used to seeing from her friend. Even so, Fluttershy knew it was only a matter of time before Rarity cracked, and she worried that nopony would be there to pick up the pieces when it happened.

Endless days of drudgery and exhaustion crawled by for Rarity. It seemed to her that the universe was disrupting her at every turn. An entire box of fabric was destroyed when a leak from the roof soaked it overnight, a rotted piece of the ceiling support crashed onto one of Rarity’s sewing machines, and there was a faint odor of mold in the air permeating from some unknown source.

Things only seemed to get worse when the time she had with Fluttershy came to an end. After hasty and tearful goodbyes, Rarity threw herself back into her work. She wasn’t expecting another helping hoof for a few days so she wanted to finish what could be done as soon as possible. For the moment, Rarity decided she was tired of seeing plastic limbs laying around her floor like a crime scene. She planned to assemble all of her mannequins, and had just finished the first when she heard the little bell at the storefront which signalled somepony’s arrival.

“Terribly sorry, but we are closed for the season. Come back this summer for my ‘La Pomme Boutique: Country Chique’ grand unveiling.” Rarity called, trotting over to meet her unexpected guest. As she trotted, she realized that the gust of fresh air that had blown in could only temporarily mask the stench of mold that lingered around her.

“Ah’m not so sure I can wait that long.” Applejack said, smiling and winking at Rarity from the entrance.

Rarity stopped in her tracks; her jaw on the floor. Standing against the door frame, her forehooves crossed, a familiar orange pony smiled from ear to ear. Emerald eyes glinted under that old stetson hat that Rarity had grown to love to hate to love. She found her footing again, and raced to her friend’s side, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“APPLEJACK? I… just… how…” Her voice cracked.

“Well, Fluttershy said you’d picked a doozy of a house to repair, so I figured you might need an ole apple’s help fixin’ it up.”

“But… I don’t understand. I thought Rainbow Dash was supposed to… Oh never mind! I’ve been working so hard I must have scrambled a few details. Of course I could use the help! You’re just the handy pony I need to get things moving a little more smoothly. Starting with that horrendous mold smell.” Rarity said, leading Applejack inside.

“Woo-wee, that’s a might powerful.” Applejack said, fanning her hat. She casually shut the front door, unwittingly cutting off their supply of fresh air.

“Is it? Oh dear, perhaps I had gotten used to it. Customers wouldn’t DREAM of buying clothing from a shop with mold!” Rarity complained, her ears flattening against her head.

“Leave it to me, Rares.” Applejack assured with a wink as she moved towards the boxes stacked against the far wall.

Rarity mused that she rarely had to give Applejack a direct order for her to do what she needed. Still beaming at the arrival of some help, she pulled her attention away after a moment to continue setting up the mannequins.

“Oh hey, ya fixed it!” Applejack said, calling from behind her.

“What’s that?” Rarity asked, her mind far from her.

“I’d recognize that trainwreck from a mile away. I can’t believe I thought that would look good for a Gala.” Applejack noted with a chuckle.

Rarity turned to face her, confused by her statement, until she turned back around to see the first assembled mannequin fully dressed. She was entranced by it; perfected and ready for display. The denim gown was accented with the same red hue of the original hat, which had been replaced with a red stetson with a golden trim; a worthy upgrade to the one she insisted on wearing. The galoshes were long gone, having been replaced by cowpony boots with a similar gold flair. Even the original plaid had made its way back into the design, but was now fashioned into a vest. Apple embroidery work lined the bottom of the skirt, and a small stitched apple accentuated the hat. The ensemble came together exactly how she had pictured it, but she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d assembled it in its entirety.

“Oh! Yes, well… I try not to let any of my work go to waste…” She intended on continuing, but when she turned back around, Applejack had vanished.

“Applejack?”

“Down here!” A muffled voice called from somewhere under the floorboards. Rarity’s eyes widened in confusion. There was no mention of a basement when she purchased the property. She looked around for a door leading down, but found none.

“Applejack, how did you get down there?” She called out, but before she got a reply, she found a small hatch in the floor between some boxes. She ignited her horn, expecting it to open instantaneously, but it refused to budge. Frustrated, she increased the intensity of the spell, which strained her, still producing no results. She released the spell and stamped her forehoof with a huff. “How in Equestria did that pony lift this?” she grumbled to herself, a tad jealous of Applejack’s strength. She glanced around the room for another solution, and found one sticking out of the toolbox beside her sewing desk. She victoriously magicked a crowbar to come to her aid.

“Are ya comin’?” Applejack hollered.

“Just a moment, having a bit of trouble with the door…” Rarity answered, jamming the crowbar in the crack between the door and floor. Once again her spell proved useless as she strained against the stubborn door. Giving up at last, Rarity stomped on the crowbar with her hoof. The hatch finally buckled and popped open enough for her magic to do the rest. She congratulated herself with a “Ha!”

“All ya had to do was ask.” Applejack retorted smuggly, leaning against the wall at the base of the stairs having watched the struggle.

“Nonsense. I got it well enough, and it won’t be stuck again after all that.” She said, tossing the crowbar aside.

“Come look at this.” Applejack insisted, trotting away from the stairs.

Rarity’s magic quickly illuminated the dreary and disheveled collection of odds and ends littered about the room. On one wall, she could make out an old wooden writing desk. It was surrounded by stacks of old musty boxes that were covered in years of dust. Scattered about the floor were an assortment of gardening pots and bags of fertilizer, no doubt a common sight from the days this building opened its doors as a floral shop. There were also what looked to be paintings and furniture in another corner, draped with white cloth covers to protect from dust and grime. In the center of the room stood a lone barber chair, a spring and stuffing poking out of the seat cushion. Boxes of varying levels of wear and decay were stacked atop one another with their contents spilling over the sides. Many items looked unsecure from such box towers. One wrong move and a picture frame, a chandelier, a china set, or a lantern would fall. She carefully navigated around the mess until she saw that the lantern had lit itself. She flinched backwards startled, directly into a large patch of cobwebs.

“AH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF ME!” Rarity screamed, fussing with the cobwebs. Applejack sighed and helped her brush them from her mane.

“It’s just cobwebs, Rare, they ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Cobwebs, perhaps not, but spiders… these aren’t those delightfully helpful star spiders of Fluttershy’s, they could be venomous in this part of the country.” Rarity theorized in exasperation. “Now, what is it you found?”

Applejack pointed to the wall on the opposite side of the basement where sunlight filtered in weakly from a small grate in the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, Rarity was surprised to find piles of newspapers neatly stacked against the brick.

“Ain’t that a picture of you?” Applejack pointed out, referring to the newspaper on the top of a pile. Rarity skeptically picked it up in her magic and read the article aloud.

“‘Canterlot’s rising star, Rarity from Ponyville designed a hot new trend in simple elegance which she debuted at the Canterlot Garden Party this past weekend…’ This is the article the Canterlot Times wrote about the gown I made for Twilight’s birthday.” Rarity realized in astonishment.

“Oh yeah… the one where you kept tryin’ ta ditch us fer yer new fancy friends.” Applejack implied, a twinge of bitterness in her tone.

Rarity recoiled. “If you recall, I did come to my senses in the end.” She muttered back defensively.

“And lookit this one, it’s about yer Canterlot Boutique openin’ up.” Applejack examined one of the papers next to the first.

“Let me see that!” Rarity demanded, taking the paper from Applejack with her magic. She glossed over the review, recalling the disastrous debacle of the ‘Princess Dress’.

“Huh. What’re the odds of that? Who’d keep a bunch of Canterlot newspapers in Salt Lick City anyway?” Applejack wondered aloud, looking over the rest of the newspapers in the pile. “Er, strike that, I’m seeing some from Ponyville too. Somethin’ more recent, in fact.”

“Recent?” Rarity squeaked, taking the Ponyville Chronicle in her magic and reading the date in the corner. Her heart stopped and her breath stilled. Without thinking, she tossed it into the pile like it was on fire, causing the other papers to cascade around their hooves. She took a sharp inhale and composed herself as best she could.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s… not possible.” Rarity’s voice was tinged in terror. “It’s… it’s from a year ago.”

“So? Was there something wrong with it?” Applejack asked, looking for it in the disarray.

“NO!” Rarity shouted in near hysteria. She reigned in her outburst before continuing. “Sorry to be so frazzled darling, I’m just very upset. This place was supposed to be abandoned over a year ago, boarded up and locked tight, nopony allowed in. The realtor assured me that after Red Herring owned this place that no pony came anywhere near it.”

“Who’s Red Herring?” Applejack asked in confusion.

“I believe he was a private detective.”

“Maybe he just… left some of his old casework behind? You said it was abandoned a year ago, and that’s when the paper’s dated, so…”

“You don’t understand. Red Herring was… well, he died here more than five years ago.” Rarity countered.

“Wait...what?”

“Well, this might sound a bit insensitive, but Red Herring was found having hung himself from the rafters.”

“Land sakes! Are you kiddin’ me? THIS is where yer settin’ up shop?” Applejack shouted in surprise.

“The realtor ASSURED me that it was kept from the papers and only a select few were made aware of the tragedy. There’s no point in passing up a lucrative opportunity because of a bit of bad PR.” Rarity pointed out.

“Well, what happened? Was he depressed? Was he runnin’ from something? Somepony?”

“What you have to understand about all of this Applejack is that ponies around here will believe anything. Quite frankly, I’m not even sure if any of this is true.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, the pony I purchased the building from informed me that it has a sort of… reputation. Some ridiculous ponies in this town seem to think that it’s haunted, can you imagine?” she said, laughing it off. “Red Herring was a distinguished private investigator, and he was determined to debunk all spooky rumors about this place. The realtor did mention he was a bit of a recluse, kept mostly to himself and would lock himself inside for days working on some case or another. It’s a terrible tragedy, but it’s hardly haunting.”

“And, what, you don’t believe in ghosts?” Applejack asked with a sarcastic smirk.

“Of course I don’t! Don’t be absurd. Leave it to me to show these ponies a thing or two about superstitious nonsense.” Rarity said dismissively.

“So then how do you suppose the Ponville Chronicle ended up down here?”

“Maybe this is all an elaborate prank? A ruse some of our friends are playing on us, perhaps? It would explain why these articles are all about me.” She rationalized as best she could. “Even so, I don’t really plan on staying in a dusty basement all afternoon. I should get back to unpacking the rest of those boxes.”

Without another word, Rarity led Applejack out of the basement before firmly shutting and latching the door.

“Whoa…” Applejack muttered.

“Whoa what, Apple--?” Rarity started, but cut herself off when she saw the state of the main floor. In the short span of time that they had been in the basement, Rarity’s work floor had been completely finished and properly organized. Pony mannequins lined the south wall, each with a gown or ensemble that was near completion. Her sewing supplies were stacked to perfection, and organized by color. The large armoire had her stores of fabric tucked away, along with her accent pieces and accessories.

She wasn’t sure how to feel in that moment. She was delighted; the ease of her burden was a welcomed feeling. However, there was that element of shock and confusion mixed with uncertainty at the lack of explanation.

“What...Who… How could this have happened?”

“Magic?” Applejack surmised.

“However did you come up with that brilliant idea?” Rarity asked sarcastically. “Well, at least now we KNOW it was one of our friends. My money’s on Rainbow Dash… though she doesn’t have magic… hmm, Twilight perhaps?”

“What makes you think it was our friends? Even with magic, it should have taken all afternoon to empty those boxes.”

“Not if there were more than one pony… Oh! I just figured it out! Applejack, you’re so sweet!” Rarity threw her hooves around her in another hug.

“Say what now?”

“The surprise party! Let me guess, all of our friends lied and said they were too busy to help, when in fact they were just planning to surprise me all along. They sent you here early to distract me in the basement long enough to set all of this up, didn’t they?” She whirled around the room, calling out to her friends. “Come on out everypony! Was this another one of your brilliant plans, Pinkie Pie?” She turned back to Applejack, “You must have planted those papers so that you could ‘discover’ them. You ponies are the best friends a mare could ask for!”

“Uh...”

SMASH

A single framed picture had fallen from its place on the wall, shattering to pieces on the ground near Rarity and Applejack. The pair jumped, and stared at it incredulously.

“Ugh, be careful! Which one of you knocked this loose? The ruse is up, you know. You can come out now.” Rarity shouted, trotting over to the broken shards on the floor. “Oh no! Not this one…” she whispered under her breath. She levitated the two torn pieces away from the glass shards and held them up together for Applejack to see. It was the first photograph she and her friends had taken together with Twilight Sparkle in the center, surrounded by all her friends. Now Twilight and Fluttershy had been torn in half, one piece showed Rarity with Pinkie Pie, and the other showed Applejack with Rainbow Dash.

“Would ya look at that. Heh, it’s strange to see Twilight lookin’ so… normal like that.” Applejack noted as Twilight didn’t have alicorn wings yet.

“It’s completely ruined! I can’t mend this, and it was my only copy… ow!” Rarity squealed, jumping back when she inadvertently stepped on a shard of glass.

“Rarity, are ya alright?”

“It’s just a little scratch… Oh no, the blood! It’ll stain the floor, I’ll be back ponies.” Rarity hurried past Applejack and up the wooden stairs to the bathroom on the top floor.

“I’m not seein’ any signs of anypony else down here…” Applejack called after her.

Rarity tread as lightly as she was able, trying to keep any blood from spilling from her scratch. It wasn’t painful, only inconvenient. She turned on the sink once she’d made it into the bathroom and waited for the water to warm up a little. Her mind wandered, trying to decipher where her friends were hiding, and how they planned to announce their arrival. She was so grateful to have ponies like them in her life, ponies that would drop everything to be there for her, no matter what the cost. Especially Applejack, who was always there for her when she needed her most. It may have been some time since they had last talked… how long had it been?

The water boiled over her hoof and Rarity screamed. She ripped her foreleg away and cradled it to her chest. Her unburnt hoof scrambled to turn off the faucet.

“Rarity! Are you alright?” Applejack yelled, rushing up the creaking steps to come to her aid.

“I-I’m alright. I must have... turned the wrong knob. It’s not that bad, really.” Rarity answered, examining the fur now matted firmly against her skin. It would leave a mark, but nothing permanent. She counted herself lucky.

CREAK

“Ah HA! We’ve caught you now!” Rarity rejoiced, delighted to finally have proof that somepony else was there. She and Applejack made their way back to the top of the stairs to greet them, but saw nopony.

“Where’d they go?” Applejack asked.

“That’s odd, I could have sworn I heard a…”

CREAK

Rarity stopped when a second creak was heard, this one closer than the first.

“A-are you sure this is our friends doin’?” Applejack asked, a quiver in her voice.

CREAK

“D-don’t be silly, Applejack, of course it is… they’re just… playing another ridiculous prank is all. Isn’t that right, Rainbow Dash?”

CREAK

“This isn’t funny, y’all!” Applejack called out.

“Tell her...”

A voice no louder than a whisper caressed their ears, subtle breath grazing their necks.

“Run!” Applejack called out, racing away from the stairs with Rarity close at hoof.

“This isn’t possible! There has to be an explanation, Applejack! Here, the bedroom!” Rarity flung open the door with her magic and skid inside to safety. Applejack was close behind, slamming it shut and locking it securely before anything could follow. As an extra measure, she pressed her body against the door.

“It’s magic, it has to be! Pinkie must be in on this… although why they think scaring the daylights out of us is entertaining is beyond me.” Rarity grumbled, pacing back and forth in the bedroom while her horn kept it illuminated.

“Maybe it’s about time we start considerin’ the possibility that it ain't our friends and might be some kinda… other… presence.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Rarity insisted, saying it more for her benefit than Applejack’s. She tried to focus her mind, the voice from the stairs playing in her head. It sounded familiar… important. Before she could pin her thoughts down the smell of mold and rot rippled through her nostrils causing her to scrunch her snout and eyes to water.

“Oh my, how is it that such a smell can permeate every part of this place? You’d think it wouldn't be so strong this far from the source.” Rarity trotted over to the window sill to air the room out, but stopped short, when her eyes caught the scene beyond the panes.

“That’s… odd.”

“What’s odd?”

“Well, I’m quite sure it was clear weather today, but now it appears to be nothing but a thick fog. I can’t even see the ground… maybe we should go back out there and--”

SLAM
SLAM
SLAM

Applejack stumbled forward, landing on her knees as someone or something began ramming the door with the force of an ursa major. The room shuddered and reverberated with each strike, like the inside of a bell when struck. With every blow, the vibrations intensified.

“Out the window!” Applejack screamed as she tried to rise to her hooves.

Rarity didn’t protest, bracing herself against the frame, and mustering all her focus and strength to lift the window pane with her magic and hooves.

“Lemme help.” Applejack said, finally making it to the window side of the room. She planted her hind hooves firmly and pushed against the lower frame with all her might. The pair of them struggled with the frame while trying to keep their footing, the force on the other side of the door increasing in power and tempo with every second that passed. They could hear the frame and wood of the door begin to pop and splinter. One nail coming out with such force that it buried itself head first into the frame a scant inch from Rarity's cheek making her jump and scream.

“Focus Rares!” Applejack exclaimed, gritting her teeth. “Its starting to give, one… more… push….” They gave one more push in unison, fueled by terror and fear. The window gave way and slid up with enough force to crack the frame and one pane.

SLAM
CRACK

A large piece of the door exploded inward, shattering on impact against the far wall and raining bits of wood around the room.

“It’s coming!” Rarity screamed, already standing on the window sill and peering into the thick fog that roiled and coalested in a wall mere feet from the building.

“Climb! Climb!” Applejack screamed as she followed her out the window. Rarity clung to the vine, praying it had the strength enough to support her body weight. She hyperventilated, tears stinging her eyes as she clung, frozen to the side of the house.

Applejack’s voice pierced her hysteria. “Ya hafta keep climbin’, Rarity!”

“Oh, why couldn’t I just have learned to teleport like Twilight?!” She wailed, lamenting her lack of magical skill. Rarity sobbed, stuck between the terrors of the situation and the thoughts in her head. They slowly progressed down the side of the house, mutually silent to keep focused on the task at hoof.

A minute passed, or had it been two? In her terror, the only thing Rarity could register in this oppressive fog was the pounding of her heart, and the ragged, labored breaths that came ever harder with the continuing effort. Shouldn’t they have reached the bottom by now?

“Shouldn’t we have reached the ground by now??” Applejack wondered aloud.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“What in the…” Applejack trailed off. “Hey Rare, do you see the window?”

“Oh what? The one with the terrifying monster beating down the door trying to kill us? Why on earth would I want to look at that?!”

Applejack sighed in frustration. “Because it’s gone… there’s nothin’ up there ‘cept brick and vine.”

“What in Equestria do you mean it’s gone!?” Rarity asked, a hint of frantic terror creeping back into her voice. She peered up and strained her eyes to look past the orange mare, who was dangling a foot above her, only to be greeted with a vertical expanse of brick and mortar, extending beyond sight and melting into a ceiling of fog. “That… that can't be.”

She cast her eyes downward, looking for the ground she knew had to be there, but saw nothing, except an endless trail of overgrown plants clinging to the monotonous brick facade below.

“This here is supposed to be a two story, right? Well, three if you include the basement, but still. Even a fall from that window wouldn’t have killed us…”

“Well, by Celestia, it sure looks like it will now!” Rarity cried in frustrated terror.

“I don't think Celestia has anythin’ to do with where we are now!” Applejack snapped back. “Look! There! Just below us, a window! If we can sneak inside, it’s just a matter of making it to the front door.”

Rarity looked again and spotted the anomaly. She didn’t question it or wait for Applejack, hastily scaling down the wall towards their salvation. Her muscles screamed in pain with every inch as she maneuvered down the last few feet to the window. To her relief, it was ajar. She climbed inside keeping as quiet as possible so as to not alert their attacker. Once she was safe, she turned to assist Applejack. Rarity turned to face the room and gasped, her eyes darting back and forth while her mind raced with questions.

“What’re you waiting--” Applejack whispered as she stood, but stopped herself as she came to the same terrible realization. The room they were standing in was the same they had left. Since their absence, however, the room had been ransacked: the bed overturned, suitcases open and lying awkwardly around the room with their contents spilled on the floor, blankets and pillows shredded. Most notably disturbing was the smattering of fresh bloody hoofprints splayed chaotically near the shattered remains of the door.

The pair silently navigated through the mess, frightened that a minor misstep would give away their position. They successfully ducked under what remained of the door, the top third that hung at an angle from the remaining hinge, and crept along the hallway towards the staircase.

Applejack leaned in closely, whispering only loud enough for Rarity to hear. “We have to make a break for it. Let’s go, Rares.” Applejack took her hoof and the pair began to gallop down the stairs. On the fourth step, Rarity’s hoof burst through the rotten wood up to her hock. She screamed in shock and agony, shifting her weight onto her front hooves, hoping they would propel her out. Her leg caught at the mouth of the broken step, trapped beneath by a series of jagged wooden teeth that had pierced her skin.

“RARITY!” Applejack shouted, spinning around and reaching to pull her loose.

“NO! NO IT HURTS!” Rarity screamed, ripping herself away from Applejack’s grasp. “Splinters… they’re… they’re everywhere. I’m stuck!”

“What do I do!?” Applejack screamed in panic; her eyes darting around, hoping not to find whatever intruder might be on their tail.

“I… I have to pull them out.” Rarity concluded, her voice and hooves trembling. She ignited her horn and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the first of many wooden fragments sticking awkwardly out of her back leg. As her magic slowly pried the first from her flesh, a wave of nausea washed over her as warm blood streamed from the wound down her fetlock. As the shard dropped to the ground, Rarity let out a muffled whimper of pain.

“You hafta try to keep quiet, we don’t know where they are...” Applejack whispered sadly, having seen the look of pain on Rarity’s face and being unable to stop it. Beads of sweat rolled off Rarity’s cheeks as her magic took hold of the next shard. This one proved worse than the first, breaking in two when it caught on her flesh on its way out. She grit her teeth and squeezed her mouth shut as the white hot pain bore into her mind.

“That’s… the last… one.” She whispered, her voice breaking with a sob after pulling out the last of the dozen fragments. They lay in a small pile and ranged in size from an inch all the way to four inches in length. Applejack reached for her again, and with the assistance of her own magic, Rarity slowly pulled free. The pair continued down the steps, Rarity hobbling and avoiding contact with her hoof as best she was able. At last they reached the front door. Applejack turned the knot with her hoof only to find it resistant.

“Key. Where’s the key?” Applejack hastily asked.

“The desk.” Rarity whimpered. She slumped against the wall, her injured leg hanging loosely to the side while Applejack retrieved the key. She was back within moments, shaking hooves attempting to fit the key into the lock. Rarity ignited her horn, taking it from Applejack and sliding it in effortlessly. Rarity turned it with her magic, but the key wouldn’t budge.

“Let me try.” Applejack put her weight into the task. A small metallic snap was heard before Applejack tumbled to the ground. Both ponies looked in horror to find the key broken in half, unreachable now in the lock.

“Step back, Rare.”

Rarity hobbled away from the door while Applejack reared up on her fore legs and bucked the wood. Rarity winced; the sound of the impact ringing in her ears. She covered them with her hooves as Applejack bucked in a quickening crescendo. On the fourth buck, the wood began to groan and splinter, which only compelled Applejack to buck harder. With a final furious kick the door gave way, bursting in two and flying across the room, exploding on impact. Applejack steadied herself, exhausted from the sustained bucking and reached out for Rarity again. She helped guide the ivory mare under the jagged wood shards that hung haphazardly from the frame. Rarity stumbled as she walked, her hoof in searing pain whenever she accidentally brushed it against the floor. Her eyes had been shut against the pain as AJ guided her through the shattered maw of what had once been the door. As Applejack released her hoof, Rarity opened her eyes to take in her new surroundings. She gasped and stumbled backwards, shock and terror flashing through her in quick succession as she realized they weren’t outside, but instead back in the second story bedroom. She wrenched her neck, as she looked back in horror to the door they had just entered, to see an all too familiar trail of bloody hoofprints in a line across the broken and splinted fragments of the heavy wooden door, that now lay in shambles.

“Apple… jack?” Rarity whispered, an undercurrent of fear and terror in her voice. She turned her gaze back inside the room, expecting to find it in disarray and Applejack standing nearby. Instead her eyes found it completely bare of anything, with the exception of a single large barrel filled to the brim with apples. Rarity approached the barrel, her breathing ragged and her eyes welling with tears as she recognized the marking branded into the aged oaken wood.

“No… no…” Rarity whispered, tears cascading down her cheeks.

As she moved closer the smell of rot and rancid decay assaulted her senses. She plugged her nose and squinted her eyes against the horrible odor. The room was eerily silent as she approached the barrel save for soft wet squelching sounds that only further added to her growing nausea. Against her better judgement, she peered inside. Rarity marveled in horror at the fruit carcasses, each ruined and desiccated, not a single one preserved from the carnage within. Apple cores inside shifted and writhed on waves of weevils and maggots. They weaved and danced over the broken husks, making the barrel’s contents appear alive. She wasn’t sure how long she stood in silent awe, entranced by the ghastly sight, before she was finally able to tear her attention away, retching violently on the floor. Her body shook with each ragged breath, her hoof wiping away the excess vomit from her lips as she dragged herself away from the barrel.

She staggered backwards in shock until her rump pressed against a wall. She turned to flee the room, only to be greeted by a clean unbroken plane. “The door… where’s the door? WHERE’S THE DOOR?”

Rarity jerkily ran her hooves across the wall in disbelief, her eyes darting back and forth in hopes of finding a seam or latch, anything that would free her from this tormented chamber.

“Applejack! Applejack where are you!? Why did you leave me?!” Rarity wailed in torment.

She beat her hooves against it, hoping at least to find a weakness to muscle through. She wasn’t much of an apple bucker, but she would beat her legs to bloody pulp to get out of this place.

“Applejack?”

Rarity stopped, her breath catching in her chest as she heard the familiar intonation of a mare’s voice coming from the opposite side of the wall. She tilted her ears forward and recognized the clear voice of Twilight Sparkle.

“TWILIGHT? TWILIGHT PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Rarity screamed and beat at the wall with her hooves. “TWILIGHT CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

“Hey, Twi,” came a calm, yet exhausted response from Applejack.

“Applejack?” Rarity exclaimed in surprise and confusion as her hooves lowered to the ground. She pressed her ear to the wall as they continued to speak.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, followed by the sound of wood scraping against wood and the creak of somepony sitting on a stool.

Rarity’s brow furrowed in confusion; she slowed her breathing as best she could in order to better hear the ponies on the other side of the wall.

“What isn’t wrong is more accurate. Things ‘round here have been… dern near impossible.” Applejack said in a hushed voice.

“I did notice you seemed a bit… off today. What’s going on?” Twilight replied.

“It’s just that… since me ‘n Rainbow Dash called it quits, Ah feel like everything’s been thrown out of whack.”

“You and Rainbow broke up?”

“They...broke up?” Rarity asked softly aloud to herself.

“We never shoulda started, to be honest. It was great at first, there was a lot of tension there that just sorta… melted away, ya know?” Applejack said, to which Twilight laughed as a reply.

“I don’t think I want to know.” She answered. AJ joined in with a chuckle.

“But ya can’t put north and north together on a magnet, they just don’t… click.”

“But you seemed so good for each other… and you didn’t say anything earlier when we were all helping you make cider.”

“Ah think she’s choosing to ignore it for now, or maybe since Ah’m the one who broke it off, she thinks Ah’ll change mah mind.”

“Will you?”

“Not likely. Ah’m sick of all the fightin’. Nah, love just ain’t fer me.”

“But what about…”

“Already moved on. Today was plenty of evidence for that, don’t you think?”

“I did notice, yes.”

“Anyway, Ah’m mighty tired. Figure Ah’ll burn some candlelight and finish fillin’ out these cider orders before turning in. Thanks for yer help, Twi.”

“Anytime.”

Rarity heard the unmistakable sound of Twilight’s magic teleporting her away, presumably to the castle. It was quickly followed by a struck match and the creak of the door from an old metal lantern.

“No… no Applejack! Don’t!”

“Ugh. What is it now? What in tarnation is she goin’ on about? Consarnnit!” Applejack called out bitterly.

Rarity was taken aback. Could Applejack hear her now? She pushed away from the wall and beat her worn hooves against it, calling out to her.

“Applejack! I’m in here! Please! PLEASE help me!”

Rarity squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing into the peeling wallpaper as she slid uselessly from her shaking hooves to the floor. She could hear hoofsteps approaching from the other side of the wall, decreasing the distance between them, when they suddenly stopped. She opened her eyes, surprised at the sudden halt and found her surroundings had shifted again. She was back in the original bedroom as she had seen it the morning before: door and room intact. Her shaking hooves reached for the door handle and she gave out a soft sob of relief when the door opened at her command. Choking on her anguish and fear, she continued down the hallway towards the stairs. Her mind was too fractured to properly react to the pristine condition of the wooden steps, no trace of the broken splinters she’d fought through earlier. She took each step quickly, but deliberately, bracing herself for whatever twisted surprise awaited her next misstep.

She only paused a moment at the base of the staircase, her eyes inspecting the front door. She reasoned that an attempt to get through it would only yield similar disastrous results, so she directed her attention to the large window panel beside the door instead. In her haste, she nearly missed it. The room around her was different… far more different than the other versions she had seen thus far. She could tell she wasn’t in the boutique anymore, but rather somepony’s office. Classy vintage furniture was arranged deliberately around a single desk; the same furniture Rarity swore she’d seen in much worse shape under sheets and layers of dust in the basement. The walls were lit by lantern light, and although the wallpaper remained the same disgusting floral print she’d learned to loathe, it appeared less tarnished and torn. She ran her hoof over a plush armchair, wondering if it were only an illusion, but finding the feel of soft fabric comforting. Different picture frames adorned the wall with an array of newspaper clippings, all hailing the dynamic detective duo of Red Herring and Cue and their continued success. The only other personal effect in the room was a single picture resting on the desktop. It showed two stallions sitting in this very office, triumphant smiles beaming across their faces. She took a step closer, trying to make out the details of each pony’s face, but finding that the closer she got, the more obscure they became.

“There’s only one way…”

Rarity spun on her hooves to find she wasn’t alone. An older-looking stallion was walking towards her, dragging his hooves in defeat. He was an earth pony with a light red coat and a grey and crimson mane. His eyes looked tired, buried beneath deep dark circles of his facial fur. He had grey stubble on his cheeks which only slightly masked his many wrinkles. As he staggered closer to her, Rarity could detect the scent of urine and other body odors. Her disgust was elevated further by the strong fetid smell of alcohol on his breath. He continued unwaveringly towards her.

“Red Herring, is that you?” Rarity asked in a whisper, but the pony didn’t respond. She swallowed hard, garnering the courage to speak up and draw attention to herself.

“Darling, are you al--” Rarity squeaked in surprise and flinched back as the stallion stumbled drunkenly towards her. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact that didn't come. She opened her eyes and stared in shock at the wisps of tail hair that disappeared into her chest. She reached a hoof up as the last strand vanished but found only clean, unbroken fur.

“You’re mad, aren’t ya?”

Rarity jumped and spun in surprise to see the haggard stallion behind her, still stumbling forward in a shaky, but determined gait.

“Mad ‘cause I figured it out. Heh!”

Rarity watched in silence as the stallion rounded the corner behind his desk, picking up an old woven rope in his hoof.

“Can’t have intelligent victims… Ya just had to toy with me though, didn’t ya?”

He tied one end of the rope to the back right desk leg, knotting it securely.

“With him… always with him.”

With the other end in hoof, he paused for a moment, staring at it with a haunted expression. Eventually his breathing became more ragged and scratchy, until it turned into a dry laugh.

“What’s one more?”

He threw the rope up at the ceiling, presumably aiming for one of the lower rafters. It fell short, dropping to the ground with a thud.

“Luna damn it.” The stallion spat, securing the rope in his hoof again while he carefully climbed onto the desk. He aimed his throw carefully, this time looping over a rafter, the rope sailing in an arc over the creaking aged beam.

“Ya hear that, you fuckin’ demon? You won this round!”

“Don’t…” Rarity whispered in horror, watching helplessly as the stallion tied a noose at the end of the rope. He was shaking now, a low menacing laugh like a growl reverberating around the room, as he steadied himself on the edge of the desk. Reflexively, Rarity reached out to stop him, her heart gripped by icy dread and plummeting into her stomach as her hoof phased through his dirty disheveled coat.

“Wanna know something funny, though?” A devious smirk crossed his muzzle as the stallion reached a hoof behind his left ear, pulling out a cigar that had been nesseled in his mane with a match book. He placed it in the side of his morbid grin, between his teeth. His eyes stared into the fire of the match until the end was cherry red and took a long pull from the cigar. As the room filled with the warm smell of tobacco, the stallion strained his neck up to place it in the noose. The rafter above moaned and creaked, but held firm. The stallion securely tightened the knot against the nape of his neck and Rarity felt silent tears streaking down her cheeks. She was unable to move or look away.

“I’m gonna be the last one, Demon. I documented everything… EVERYTHING! All the evidence, It’s right here in this desk.” He tapped a hoof firmly upon the oaken plane beneath him, the grim and triumphant smile growing with each word. “Somepony is gonna find it… somepony will figure out just what you are, how many lives you’ve taken… and then they’ll destroy you.”

He took one last, long draw on the cigar then bellowed as he sprang off the desk. “I’M YOUR LAST FUCKING MEAL, ENJOY IT, BITCH!”

Rarity winced and squeezed her eyes shut. She had seen enough horrors today; she didn’t want to see him die. Not like this. She braced for the sickening snap and the soft creak of the rope, but only silence followed. Rarity slowly opened her eyes and found herself back in the boutique, boxes needing emptied and room in slight disarray. It looked exactly as it should, prior to all the nightmares she’d seen.

“Oh Red Herring, what happened to you.” She shuddered at the memory of him, of those empty eyes, of the sorrow and madness. “What was it he said? A demon, and... the evidence.” Rarity whispered to herself. “He said he left it behind in his desk, waiting for somepony to find it.”

Rarity rose to her hooves and weaved through the maze of boxes towards the basement hatch. The crowbar laid ready beside it and she levitated it with her magic into place, bringing both hooves down and popping it free. With ease, her magic opened the postern door the rest of the way. She descended the steps, igniting her horn for light. It was jarring to see the pristine furniture and light fixtures from a few minutes ago, now dilapidated and covered in sheets and layers of dust. Her eyes scanned the clutter and came to rest on her target: Red Herring’s desk.

Rarity carefully picked her way through the clutter and debris towards the desk. It stood against the far wall, close to the corner with the pile of newspapers. The desktop was covered in a thick layer of dust and boxes. Rarity carefully lifted the boxes with her magic, placing them in a stack to the side. She then levitated each drawer open, desperately looking for the aforementioned evidence that would hopefully shed light on what was going on. Her hope faded as each drawer revealed naught but cobwebs and dust within. When she found the last drawer bare, Rarity choked out a sob, slumping to the ground and hiding her face in her hooves.

“What do I do now?” She gasped between sobs. She jumped when one of the boxes she had precariously stacked toppled over, spilling its contents before her. Rarity dried her eyes with her front hoof when she realized it had been filled with file folders and yellowing parchment papers. Shakily, she reached her hoof for the folder on top, her breath catching in her throat as her magic illuminated the folders seal.

“It’s… a red herring…” she said, taking in the details of the fish leaping from water motif pressed cleanly into the folder’s red wax seal. A name she didn’t recognize was scrawled along the top in frantic hoofwriting. Without missing a beat, Rarity broke the seal, opening the folder to find several hoof-written pages and old pictures collected together under a detailed title page.

“Clean Shave, Born… hmmm … moved to Salt Lick City…started a barber shop… died April 20th having slit his own throat with his razor.” Rarity gaped then fought to keep her gorge from rising.The weathered and faded photos inside were of the crime scene. The poor pony had ended himself just above her in the main floor entryway. Putting the grisly record aside, she picked up the next folder, breaking its seal and scanning the contents within.

“Merry Weather, purchased building on the 6th… flower shop… died from self-consumed pesticide poisoning.”

Despite her repulsion and fear, Rarity continued through each file, gleaning the important facts of each pony’s untimely end before tossing it aside. The tragedies and horrors she found within were increasing her dread as the stack of sealed folders grew smaller and smaller. Each new victim’s life was seemingly cut short by their own hoof in some horrendous manner, and always within this house. Rarity forced herself to continue, hoping she would find some hint as to what it all meant and how it could be stopped. She suddenly paused, realizing she had reached the last two folders. Something in the pit of her stomach told her, screamed at her, not to open those last files. She took a steadying breath and reached for the first folder, her need compelling her forward.

“Ah’m gettin’ a really funny feelin’ ‘bout all this...” Applejack said suddenly, causing Rarity to jump.

“Applejack!?” She exclaimed, dropping the folder as she turned and grasped the orange mare in a fierce hug. The feeling of her friend’s fur on hers and the faint smell of apples that accompanied it gave her such immense comfort that she began sobbing loudly into the startled farmpony’s chest.

“You… you can see me?!” Applejack asked, her voice cracking in both disbelief and relief as she wrapped the ivory mare in a return hug. After a moment, Rarity pushed back from the embrace and suspiciously eyed the mare in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

“How could you leave me alone like that?! I’ve been worried sick! And you just LEFT me there? Where did you go?!” Rarity sent question after question like a volley of arrows, punctuating each with a tap of her hoof on the floor for emphasis.

“Nowhere, Ah swear! Ah’ve been with ya the whole time!” Applejack said, putting up her hooves defensively. “Ah bucked down the front door, and saw that we were right back where we started! Then… it was like you were seein’ something else... the look in your eyes… it was terrifyin’. Ah tried to get your attention, but it was like you couldn’t see or hear me. You started screamin’ about there being no door; and then… then ya started talkin’ to yerself and huggin’ the wall and… Ah didn’t know what the hay was going on.” Rarity’s gaze softened and looked perplexed as her friend’s eyes fell to the floor. “You scared the hell outta me, Rare.”

“You were there the whole time? But I… and you were… and then, then I saw him.”

“Who?” Applejack asked. Rarity paced back and forth, mowing over the details in her head.

“Red Herring, the detective.He’s the one who told me where to find these files… well he told… somepony… or something, he called it a demon. He said nopony else would fall victim to it again because he had gathered evidence but… there's nothing here except case files of former owners’ suicides. If there is a clue here, I can't see it. The only commonality is that they all took their own lives. There’s nothing here about a demon or how it chooses its victims.”

“Maybe… or maybe there is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe the demon is the building.” Rarity quirked an eyebrow as Applejack continued with her theory. “Every time we try to leave, this place warps itself; or our perception of it. Almost all of the ponies that lived here were tryin’ ta get over some sort of death or tragedy. Maybe this place has a type?”

“What? I didn’t see that in the files...”

Applejack scanned the discarded folders on the floor. She found the open file of Merry Weather, and pointed to the last paragraph on the title page. Rarity levitated it to eye level, squinting as she read aloud the small text she had missed.

“Merry Weather would often be spotted by locals at ‘Shademore Cemetery’ placing her freshly-cut flowers on the grave of her late son, Sunny Weather.”

“And that one.” Applejack said pointing to another file.

“Doctor Fond Heart, aka Doctor Kind Care, fled Baltimare after allegedly unleashing an unknown virus to hospital patients resulting in months of painful treatment to those afflicted. He assumed a new name and altered his appearance to start anew in Salt Lick City… Celestia’s mercy..." Rarity said, imagining all the heartache and pain Kind Care had left in his wake.

“I wonder…” Rarity trailed off, searching the opened files for the first she’d read, Clean Shave, whom she assumed to be the original owner of the building. Victorious, she scanned his file for additional notes. “Here it is. Clean Shave reportedly moved to Salt Lick City when his long-time family home was destroyed in an earthquake claiming the lives of both of his parents…." Rarity trailed off when the paragraph ended, turning it over in her magic and finding the parchment blank. The rest of the folder contained testimonials and old faded pictures of the outside of the building, newly built and surrounded by neighbors. She furrowed her brow in frustration. "This still doesn’t make any sense."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I assumed some sort of dark magic or terrible mishap would be the cause of this… but there's nothing here about abnormalities or strange happenings in the construction, so what does this all mean?" Rarity asked, frustrated at the absence of an obvious conclusion. Some part of her hoped that if she could detect the source of the evil presence, she could conquer it, or at least escape to find somepony who could. She glanced back towards the two remaining files, seals intact. She shot Applejack a knowing glance before levitating the first with her magic.

“Rare...” Applejack cautioned, still uneasy at the prospect of what could be contained inside. She broke the seal and opened the folder, realizing whose it was only after she did so.

“P. I. Red Herring… that’s odd.”

“Why?”

“Well... why would somepony include a file about himself and have his death already recorded?”

“Maybe he filled it out before he jumped?” Applejack guessed with a shrug. Rarity wasn't convinced, but didn't contest the point, hoping against suspicion that she was right.

“Moved to Salt Lick City after his last case in Manehattan went south, resulting in the accidental death of his partner, Cue.” Rarity paused for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Why’d you stop?” Applejack prodded.

"I could have sworn I saw a photo of them taken in this very building. If he died in Manehattan...” Rarity trailed off as her face drained of what little color it held. She feverishly swapped Red Herring's file for the remaining sealed one, breaking the wax and flipping it open. She read a single word and screamed like a wounded animal, propelling the file across the room with her magic.

“Ugh. What is it NOW?” Applejack called out to her. Rarity spun around in confusion to find Applejack clear across the room. In the soft light of her magic, Rarity could see visible differences in Applejack and her demeanor. She looked haggard, mane splintering in all directions from under a sweat-soaked hat, beads of it speckled along her cheeks. Her hooves were caked in mud, and she walked towards Rarity with a slow reluctant trot. The dark circles under her eyes and the piercing gaze she gave Rarity caused her to stumble backwards a step.

“Applejack? How did you…”

“Not that you care, but this rotten cider barrel completely ruined my hoof.”

Rarity whipped her head around again with a slight gasp, recognizing the sound of her own voice. Each word ringing in her ear, her nerves fraying with each word.

“‘Oh no, not a ruined hooficure, whatever shall we do?’” Applejack asked mockingly.

“What do you want from me? Another apology?”

“What’s going on? Who’s doing this?!” Rarity demanded aloud, trying to drown the voice away.

“You know, Ah can handle a set back er two, but today… that was the LAST thing Ah needed.”

Rarity’s confused expression froze then began to melt and warp into one of horrified comprehension. Her mind fractured, seeing an all too familiar Applejack walking towards her, her mind piecing together the scene she’d tried so desperately to forget. She cowered back from the advancing Applejack, letting out a whimper when her flank connected with the far wall. She staggered and reached out a hoof to steady herself, knocking over a stack of newspapers. The pile scattered about the floor between them. Rarity and Applejack both looked down at the prominent volume atop the pile, a copy of ‘Vanity Mare’. Rarity’s eyes widened, reaching for it in a panic, but Applejack beat her to it, snatching it up in her hoof.

“What’s this?” Came the cold and bitter voice of the orange mare.

Rarity fought back a cascade of tears, unable to make a sound. The haunting voice of her past answered, echoing through her mind.

“N-nothing, just a bit of light reading…”

“Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis’s Divorce: A Look Behind the Drama.” Applejack read aloud, her eyes scanning the cover and her hoof clenching the magazine tighter. Rarity took a sharp inhale, finding her voice again.

“Applejack… please…”

“Give it back!”

The arrogant voice, her voice, cut through her. Each word a barb, piercing her heart with regret and pain.

“Oh… it makes sense. It all makes sense now. You couldn’t pry yourself away from your new gown sketches long enough to make sure the right bushel of apples made it into the cider press? For what… to impress some stallion who didn’t want you in the first place?”

“Applejack…”

“Applejack…”

A chill went down her spine, hearing a repeat of herself.

“Ah… Ah’m sorry Rares… That was completely uncalled for. Ah’m just so stressed. Ten barrels, ruined. A whole day’s work for naught, orders pilin’ up… Ah should’ve asked for everypony else’s help sooner, but Ah always wait ‘til it’s too late. Ah’m sorry, Ah’m sure Fancy will love you in this new get-up. Ah hope he sees what an amazing mare you really are.”

CRASH

Rarity jumped and screamed in shock as an old lantern fell from its precarious perch atop a nearby stack of boxes, glass shattering on impact in a spray across the floor. It was old and empty, but as Rarity stared, tiny flickers of light sprang forth, like an echo of the flames it once contained. She lurched away from the wall, racing forward and stamping on the ghostly flames, paying no heed to the glass or the pain she felt as shards embed themselves into her hoof. She glanced up at Applejack, seeing a blurred outline of her friend through the tears stinging her eyes.

“Did ya hear that?” Applejack asked, eyes widening in horror. She turned and raced away, bounding up the basement steps without Rarity.

“NO! APPLEJACK, DON’T!”

Rarity screamed as she raced after her friend. She tripped on the shifting pile of newspapers that littered the floor, her body landing awkwardly to one side. She only glanced at them for a moment before forcing herself back to her hooves, the headline painted across each issue fueling her with fear. She sprinted towards the stairs, leaving a bloody trail of hoof marks atop the scattered copies from Ponyville. Each paper was titled ‘Tragedy’ in bold letters, under a blurred image of Sweet Apple Acres. She raced up the cellar stairs in a panic. Throwing her full weight against the door, Rarity exploded up and into a world of blinding light and heat. Disoriented, she blinked and squinted her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the scene before her. She stood in an old beloved farmhouse, flames licking and consuming the well-worn wood. The smoke billowed around the room, growing thicker and darker with each panicked inhale.

“You can’t save them, Applejack! PLEASE come back! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME AGAIN!” Rarity wailed over the sound of the inferno. She screamed as an apple-carved wood beam landed inches from her. Another fallen beam forced her against the wall, where burning wallpaper peeled away to reveal scorched wooden walls beneath. Rarity blindly stumbled forward, barreling into Granny Smith’s old rocking chair, and crushed the burning wood to kindling beneath her hooves.

“Applejack! Applejack!” She cried, before running blindly into the Apple family kitchen door. Rarity fell to the ground, her heart pounding and her breath coming in shuddering gasps. The smoke inhalation was making her light headed and weak, and she feared she would lose consciousness soon. Focusing her mind through the mental fog, she rose and clutched the door handle, wrenching it down hard and pressing her full weight against it.

Rarity staggered forward before falling hard onto the familiar first floor of the new boutique. She gasped for air, still sobbing as her lungs burned. She blinked away the tears and took in the familiar surroundings of the boutique; or at least what she assumed to be familiar. Things had a proclivity of changing around here, so she knew this comforting sight wouldn't last.

After a few minutes of deep breaths, Rarity mustered enough energy to drag herself up off the floor. She barely flinched when she heard somepony else in the room with her. She turned her head to the left and beheld an old-fashioned barber pony with a long dark mustache. He was sobbing wildly and pleading for somepony to forgive him, as the cold blade of his razor slit a ruby trench across his bared throat. From her right, a new spectacle of dread and regret arose. She turned to find a florist pony, curled into herself and gulping down mass quantities of a viscous green liquid. Between gulps, she could hear her soft cries:

“Mommy’s coming… mommy’s coming, baby…”

As Rarity's gaze swept the room, more ponies appeared, each from a file she’d read, and now playing out their final, terrifying moments before her. They were unaware of each other, including her, and spoke over one another in a cacophony of dread and terror. Rarity stood her ground, watching each one with a stoic expression. The fear couldn't touch her, she wouldn't let it. Then in the abrupt silence that followed, a final voice from behind her spoke with crystal clarity.

“I didn’t get to tell you…”

Rarity froze before angrily rounding to confront herself. Looking her up and down, she saw no distinct differences between her and this mirrored phantom, which only served to disturbed her more. The phantom, like those before her, seemed unaware of Rarity’s presence. She watched as the spector galloped over to rummage in her sewing supplies, until finally levitating out a long, sharp pair of heavy duty clothing shears. She removed them from their protective leather sheath, floating them up to eye-level. Pale magic slowly opened the blades until they hovered mere inches from her copy’s eyes. Was this another trick, or a vision of her inevitable future?

“This is poetic, really. A fitting metaphor for all my failures. I was blind… blind to your pain…. Blind to what you really felt for me, and blind to what I was feeling for you too. I always knew… always loved you. When you chose Rainbow Dash over me, I… I guess I believed that you never truly cared. I found others, I always did, but none could fill the void you left… and still, I refused to let myself look back. Now I understand you were just as lost and miserable as I was, hoping against logic that I would come back to you… much in the way I hoped you’d come back to me. Please forgive me Applejack… forgive me for being so blind, and for wasting what could have been.”

The doppelganger gave a final cry of anguish before plunging the shears with both hooves and magic deep into her eyes. Rarity watched as the lifeless hooves fell away to reveal the carnage inflicted; blood oozing from the orifices that were now the shear’s new sheath. She closed her eyes, taking in a long shuddering breath.

“Is that true?”

She opened them again to see Applejack, a slight ethereal glow around her figure, but otherwise the same. She reached out a hoof to her, and as expected, it went right through.

“Y-yes.” She whispered, too drained and horrified to cry.

“And you’ve been miserable ever since, haven’t ya?” Applejack said softly.

“Utterly.” Rarity admitted. “Deep down, I think I knew from the start that you couldn’t really be here but… I thought… I hoped…”

“But Ah am here, Rares. Ah’ve come to take you away, away from all this pain and sufferin’.” Applejack said, offering a soft smile. She took a step towards Rarity with an outstretched hoof.

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.

“It’s time, Rare. It’s time to go.” Applejack said, pointing to the pair of shears laying ready on Rarity’s desk. Rarity hesitantly trotted over to them. As she eyed the sharp blades, the horrific scene replayed in her mind.

“No. This ISN’T the end, I won’t LET it be!”

She bitterly tossed the heavy shears aside with her magic and started rummaging through her desk drawers in a panic.

“What’re ya doin’?” Applejack asked.

Rarity didn’t respond. She torn a piece of parchment from a sketchbook with a partial dress design and levitated a quill to its surface. She desperately scrawled an urgent request for help, reading it aloud subconsciously.

“Twilight… I’m trapped in the boutique, please send help… I’m injured and--” Rarity trailed off when the ink on the parchment started disappearing before her eyes.

“No… NO!” Rarity said, putting the quill to the paper and starting over again. As before, the ink faded away. “Fine, you piece of shit! FINE!” Rarity screamed, penning only the word ‘help’ before attempting to magic it away. This time, the ink remained, but the parchment didn’t disappear as it should have. She focused her magic and intensity of her spell.

“Come on… COME ON!”

“This is just gonna keep happenin’.” Applejack’s expression slowly changed. A hauntingly evil smile spread around her lips.

“Wh-what?”

“I know you saw yer name on that folder, Rarity. Eventually, you’ll do it, you’ll have no choice. Why not stop the cycle here? Just come with me and you can be free of your guilt and regret.”

“You know better.”

Rarity’s voice echoed again, the same soft whisper it had been. This time, however, there was a sense of urgency, like an out-cry of truth fighting to make itself heard. The words echoed, and Rarity’s heart beats slowed along with her breaths. She stared hard at Applejack, her gaze bore into the earth pony with such intensity that her smile cracked.

Rarity turned away momentarily, trotting towards the large armoire beside her work desk, and opening it with her magic in a casual manner. She ran her hoof over each bolt of fabric, delighting in the different textures as if she were looking for something to start a dress.

“Whatcha doin’ Rarity?” Applejack asked, but she ignored her. She took each bolt of fabric from the armoire with her magic, tossing them into the air as far as she was able, the cloth unraveling in different directions around the room.

“Rare?”

Rarity wasn’t deterred. She continued as she pried open an old wooden box sitting alone to the side of her supplies.

“I was saving this; I was going to drink it on opening day of the boutique, ha!” She laughed, levitating a bottle of wine in the air, examining its label. “A 1946 Strawberry Merlot… it shouldn’t go to waste, wouldn’t you agree?” She asked, carefully uncorking the bottle. She levitated a simple wine glass out of another box and carefully poured herself a glass.

“The problem is, I quite agree with Red Herring. You do need to be stopped.” Rarity pointed out, matter-of-factly. She turned to Applejack, making sure to keep firm eye contact as she deliberately tipped the glass with her magic until a small stream of wine splashed on the fabric cascade at her hooves.

“And while I know this building is comprised mostly of brick, which cannot burn, old buildings such as these have wooden floors and ceilings, not to mention the fact that bricks don't do very well in tension. And were you aware of the mortar in between the bricks? Often they are highly susceptible to flame.”

Rarity informed her, pieces of her old self shining through like she was just having another normal conversation. She levitated the bottle up to the ceiling, shaking it in her magic to spray its contents onto the old rafters.

“Perhaps I was blind, like the not-me pointed out ever-so quaintly. Perhaps I can’t live with the regret, or the guilt for the part I had to play in the destruction and the demise of my dearest friends, the Apples. And who knows? Maybe… just maybe, I can finally tell Applejack that I loved her. No, love her.”

As Rarity talked, she made her way over to the old fireplace, levitating an old match from the matchbox on top of the mantle. Without hesitation, she struck the match, wincing a little from the sudden burst of light. She heaved a sigh, lifting the match towards the ceiling in her magic.

“Rarity…”

Her magic extinguished, the flame catching the rafters before the match dropped to the soaked fabric below. A terrifyingly beautiful burst of color and light engulfed the room, and Rarity stood in awe of its beauty. She found the wine bottle laying to the side and lifted it with her magic, sloshing it around to find some liquid remained. She smiled, delighted, and poured herself another glass. This time, she brought the glass to her lips and took a taste of the sweet liquid.

“Mm. 1946… a delectable year. I would offer you a drink, but I don’t believe apparitions can drink such fine wine, can they?” she asked with another giggle. The house creaked and moaned as the blaze took hold.

“Do shut up, will you? I’m trying to enjoy this exquisite vintage.”

“Rarity…” Applejack’s voice sounded distant, like she was being dragged away. Rarity paid it no heed. Instead, she opened her burning desk’s drawer and calmly withdrew a single parchment. With a quill in her magic, she penned a simple letter, not caring whether or not the ink would stay or fade. She trotted towards the front door of the boutique and magicked it underneath, safe to the other side.

Rarity started coughing, the smoke in the air growing thicker by the moment. Beads of sweat rolled down her delicate cheeks as she took a seat on her fainting couch, sipping the champagne with a quiet dignity.

“I’m so sorry, Applejack. I love you. I always have and I always will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo asked quietly from the other side of her friend’s door, knocking softly.

“Come in.”

Scootaloo entered the room, ears flattened to her head. She was wearing a black garment Yona had specially made for the occasion; a simple dress modeled after one of Rarity’s signature gowns.

“It’s time.”

Sweetie Belle looked up at her friend, streaks of mascara had stained her cheeks, but she appeared to be mostly composed now. She stood up and magicked over a shawl that matched the black ensemble she was wearing. Scootaloo mentally wrestled with herself on whether or not to ask Sweetie Belle the question she’d been wondering. Eventually, she caved into the curiosity.

“How’d you know that Rarity wanted to be buried on the ashes of Sweet Apple Acres?” Scootaloo whispered.

Sweetie Belle looked at her friend and was silent for a long moment before she sighed. She magicked open one of her dresser drawers and retrieved a single parchment paper. She held it in her magic, away from Scootaloo’s wandering eyes for a moment before surrendering it to her friend.

“They found this outside the boutique. It was a response to a letter I’d written her. I was convinced she was ignoring me… but....” Sweetie Belle said softly.

Scootaloo took the letter softly and examined it. She recognized Rarity’s perfect penmanship and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she read.

“Sweetie Belle -

I’m so excited to hear all about what you’ve accomplished in Ponyville while I’ve been gone. I know you’ve been expecting more of a response from me, and for that I’m truly sorry. I want you to know that I love you, and I love all my friends and family in Ponyville, but I cannot bear to be anywhere near that farm. I was there, Sweetie, I watched helplessly from the sideline as it burned… I saw Applejack racing in to save her family, of course, in vain. I believe I pushed it from my mind for so long that I convinced myself that it never happened. Maybe some part of me feared that this fragile psychosis I’d created for myself would shatter the moment I returned home and saw that empty clearing where once a proud family home stood. I know how hard this has been on you, with the loss of a friend just as dear to you as Applejack was to me. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, Sweetie. I should have been your support when you needed me most and I wasn’t. Please forgive a heart-broken old mare for her many faults. As for your question, if I can offer you any advice, tell her that you love her, Sweetie, for you never know when you’ll get the chance again. Learn from my mistakes, dearest Sweetie Belle. I love you. I will always love you.

Love
-Rarity.”

Scootaloo set the letter down on the bed and wrapped her hooves around her friend, and Sweetie Belle returned the hug. She sobbed softly into her friend’s mane, further ruining her own makeup. Scootaloo dared not move or say a word, she let her best friend, and most important pony in the world to her, cry everything out. The procession would have to wait.

Author's Note

A HUGE thanks to TheLostNarrator and NialloftheNine for editing this piece with me, their contributions really brought this story to life.

Be sure to watch the audio production on TheLostNarrator's channel, but a word of advice: have tissues nearby!