Something Sweet To Bite: Candy Mare Goes to Hell

A pillow muffled shriek pierced the stillness in the night. The young mare's abdominal muscles squeezed and clenched as she curled up into a tight ball of agony, willing the pain to pass as cramps racked her body. The pain seemed to stretch on for an eternity, forcing her to clench her jaw to keep from screaming afresh, though she couldn't quite stifle a sob as her suffering persisted.

At last her muscles relaxed and the tension eased. As her torment relented, the earth pony slowly sat up in bed, pushing back the sweat drenched covers. A rotten taste clung to the back of her throat and coated her tongue. Her mouth was unusually dry, so she looked around groggily for the night stand where she sometimes kept a pitcher of water. It was so dark, however, that she couldn't even see her own hoof in front of her face. She scrambled for a moment, her arms flailing through thin air where her furniture was supposed to be.

What time was it? The farm pony's bleary eyes tried to focus on the closest window. Beyond the glass the night was pitch black, although a few wisps of strangely luminescent fog drifted gently up from below. The odd glow suffused the room, revealing something far stranger to the pony's blurred vision.

This wasn't her room.

"Where am I?" she wondered aloud.

How had she gotten here and exactly how long had she been asleep? From the way her limbs ached she felt like she could have been bedridden for days, but it didn't feel like she had slept for more than a few moments. What fragments of memory she could recall seemed entirely unreal, too strange to believe. A snatch of nightmare skittered through her mind like spiders in a haunted attic. A wave of nausea rolled over her as her stomach roiled, cramping up again, as if her very guts were rebelling against analyzing her memories in any further detail. She held on, riding the wave of queasiness until it subsided. Though her head was light, she had mastered her body for the moment, and forced down her rising gorge.

Wait, no, here it came again!

This time there was no resisting the impulse to hurl. The mare quickly rolled out of bed and fell to the floor. She reached for the bed-side table, but her hooves fumbled weakly and fell away, a sudden wave of vertigo not allowing her to do much more than that. As her eyes lost focus she finally popped, spraying bile mixed with some dark, viscous liquid onto the bedroom floor. She retched a few more times, but nothing much came up, most of the contents of her stomach splattering the floorboards already.

As quickly as the sickness had seized her, it seemed to have just as quickly passed. The filly spat out the taste of foulness and the last few chunks to the floor, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. She felt weak and shaky, but slightly better than before.

What is wrong with me? Was it something I ate?

Slowly, she rose to her hooves, careful to avoid the steaming pile of sick on the floor. As she took a moment to gather her wits, she began to notice little details about the room, little differences that brought home the fact she was indeed in a strangers abode. For one thing, the quilt on the bed looked nearly new and was covered in orange and white butterflies. The farm pony's own quilt was so worn out, and so often mended, that it was mostly a collection of pumpkin shaped patches. Many of the furnishings in the room looked nearly new, and well cared for, where as the filly's own were shabby and held together more by faith than anything else.

Another thing she noticed was that she seemed to be on the second or third story of the building she was in. Her family was too poor to own a home that was taller than one story. So that was that. Not only was this not her room, this was not even her house. So where was she then? Was this some unicorn's abode perhaps? She knew they tended to favor living in tall towers and multi-storied buildings. Did that mean she was still in town?

A fist of fear wrapped around her heart and squeezed. As she looked around, she couldn't see a door out of the room she was in. Her eyes immediately darted to the windows. She didn't favor the prospect of jumping out of one of them into the in fog, but that might be her only choice. Without knowing exactly how high up she was, it seemed like too much of a gamble to just leap to the ground below.

Before panic could take hold she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath, counting to ten. The farm pony had gotten into this room somehow, so that meant there must be a way out too. She climbed off the bed and began to carefully pace around the room, occasionally feeling for a groove that might denote a hidden door, or knocking and listening for a hollow space.

"I am not trapped." she told herself as her anxiety slowly began to build. Perhaps if she said it again she might actually believe it? "I am not trapped! I just need to stay calm and find the way- out!?"

That last word left her mouth with a squeak as one of her hind legs suddenly plunged out from beneath her. Limbs splaying out in every direction, crying out in surprise, the earth pony tumbled end over end as she fell down a flight of stairs that had led down from the loft to the floor below. She landed in a sprawl on the floor at the base of the stairs, her head spinning as spots danced before her eyes. Though she was now a bit more battered and bruised than before, at least she was no longer trapped, right?

There was something a little... off about the lower floor to which she had arrived. There were bird houses everywhere, hanging from the ceiling and the walls. Tiny baskets lined with pillows littered the floor and seemed to spread down halls and into rooms that were empty save for more animal care paraffinalia. Whatever pony that lived here either had a very eclectic sense of style or kept way more pets than most ponies could usually afford. The young mare herself had never owned a pet of her own. How could they afford to put food in another mouth when their family could barely feed themselves? The idea of a home filled with animals was both exciting and a little troubling. How wealthy, exactly, was the owner of this abode?

Dusting herself off, the earth pony wobbly got to her hooves. For all the place was strange, there was a kind of peace here, a quiet tranquility that the pony felt had been missing from her life for some time. As if to spoil the very idea, the calm was shattered by a sudden knock at the front door.

Unbidden, she felt words suddenly bubbling up from her throat. "GO AWAY! NO CANDY HERE! VISITORS NOT WELCOME ON NIGHTMARE NIGHT!"

She clamped her hooves over her mouth. What was she doing!? She cringed, hunkering down into a tiny ball of fear on the floor. Certain that her cry had doomed her, she strained her every senses towards detecting any sound or movement from outside.Time seemed to stand still, each second stretching into eternity as her own pulse thundered in her ears. Slowly, the sounds of silence settled back in, and the young mare was able to calm herself enough to assess her situation more calmly.

This had not been the first time her body had acted without her control. She recalled now something that she had first dismissed as a dream, about opening a door and eating something, both acts done against her will. These moments when her body seemed to be acting out of her control were getting more frequent. She didn't know what was causing this loss of control, but she needed to find out fast. But first she needed to assess if she were safe or not.

Staying low, she moved with hushed hoof-falls to a curtained window at the front of the house. Twitching back the curtain ever so slightly, she peered out into the night. The fog was thicker at ground level, so it was impossible for her to see anything clearly, but a dark silhouette seemed to be standing perfectly still outside the front door. Still that is, until it suddenly turned its head and looked right at her! She flinched, letting the curtain slip from her hoof and dove behind a nearby couch.

Okay! Okay. There is definitely somepony out there and they do not look at all friendly!

As she cowered among the cushions, a sudden thought crossed her mind. She already knew this wasn't her home. Though she didn't know how she had gotten here. She was basically trespassing. What if the person at the front door was the rightful owner of this place? Was it possible that they had been locked out somehow and they needed her to let them back in? Maybe, but on the other hoof it was possible that they were the reason she was here to begin with. Maybe she had been fillynapped and was being held against her will! But if that were the case, why were they outside, and why were they knocking on their own front door?

Nothing about this made any sense.

Steeling herself, the farm pony firmed up her jaw. No more cowering, no more running and hiding! She was going to get to the bottom of this right now! Taking a deep breath, she strode confidently to the front door, and only hesitated a moment before grabbing the handle and flinging it open!

The night breeze was rich with the scent of wood smoke. The sound of rushing water gurgled gently nearby. The wind in the trees was a soft sigh as it tousled the banks of fog.

Aside from that there was nothing.

More specifically there was no pony, menacing or otherwise, standing on the front stoop anymore. A few wisps of fog like thin ghostly tendrils drifted into the house, but nothing else appeared to stir. The young mare stepped outside and looked around, listening intently.

Had she just imagined the figure at the door? "Hello? Is anypony there?"

Though there was no light to see by save for the faintly glowing fog, the earth pony's eyes swiftly grew accustomed to the gloom. She slowly cantered down the well kept path in front of the house. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see it was in fact a tiny cottage of some sort. There were boards across some of the windows and an oddly abandoned air to the building that lent the otherwise quaint abode an almost haunting aura. There were more birdhouses festooned outside, but they seemed broken down and weather worn compared to the ones inside. Everything spoke of a once well cared for and loved home that had for whatever reason been abandoned.

A cool breeze teased a few crisp leaves off of the nearby trees and sent them dancing across a tiny bridge that spanned a nearby babbling brook, the source of the sound of water she had noticed before. With an almost whimsical turn, the wind twisted the leaves about so that they danced and skipped across the worn wood like a pair of children at play. The thought brought a sad smile to the earth pony's face, and a melancholy feeling settled on her that she could not quite explain. She was still young, but there were times she had the oddest sensation that life had passed her by. She felt that way rather keenly just now. As she tried to puzzle out exactly what that feeling meant, the fog began to clear a little, and the filly could just make out lights flickering across the bridge and further down a long dirt road.

A town!

That's right, she had been in town, looking for help. There was some sort of festival going on and she hadn't been able to find anyone.

As the memory resurfaced, she could hear once again the sounds of distant music drifting on the chill autumn wind. It was accompanied by laughter and screams that chased a sudden chill up her spine. The pony recalled hearing something similar while in the town herself, but had the laughter sounded so manic back then? The screams, so shrill and blood curdling? The music seemed all wrong to her ears as well, a clamorous clangor of clashing and clattering bells punctuated by a wail like a distant siren. The commotion must have been extreme up close for her to be able to make it out so clearly out here in the countryside.

As the wind picked up, there were pale motes drifting on the breeze.

Is it... snowing?

Something soft and feathery suddenly brushed the young mare's cheek. On instinct she reached up and swiped it away with a hoof. She was startled to find that her hoof came away gritty and streaked with some kind of dark powdery substance.

This wasn't snow at all.

These were ashes.

Gazing up into the heavens the farm pony could see cherry red sparks drifting through the night. As the she tried to figure out where they were coming from, her eyes once more settled on the town. Those lights, how merrily they twinkled, how brightly they glowed. Far too brightly, perhaps? It was so strange how the light wavered and danced, not unlike...

"Fire..." she whispered, her mouth going dry.

The town was awash in flames! How had she not noticed until now!? All the wealthy lords and all the fine ladies! Their lives were going up in a shower sparks and puffs of smoke! The horror of what was playing out before her eyes left the earth pony too numb to react.

Or at least, she wasn't reacting the way she thought she ought to have. There were other emotions welling up in her heart she did not quite understand.

It was a feeling almost of elation and... deep satisfaction.

What was that about? What could she possibly find to be happy about with this terrible tragedy?

Casting her confusing feelings aside the filly whirled and turned back to the cottage. She didn't know what she should do in this situation, but standing outside and growing sooty from the towns funeral pyre was giving her strange ideas and sensations she didn't want to confront all alone in the dark. She staggered inside and threw the door closed behind her. Stumbling into the living room she was so overwrought she felt like she might collapse. But that was when she noticed...

She wasn't alone.

Smiling faces lined the room and covered the floor. Some grinned madly, others with cruelty, and still others with a kind of perverse delight that made her stomach turn. A fetid stench filled the room as, one by one, those faces lit up.

It took the filly a moment to process what she was seeing. The faces were not hanging in empty space as they first appeared, but instead had been carved each and everyone into pumpkins of various shapes and sizes. The whole house was filled with them! They were strewn all over the floor, crowded on the window sills, and huddled in the fireplace. Some trailed up the stairs where she could see more pumpkin grins glowing in the loft above. Where had they all come from? Were they conjured up by some sort of magic? And what was with those grotesque, leering smiles?

As the farm pony tentatively reached one hoof out towards the hard orange rind of the nearest pumpkin, she was reminded of old pony-tails her mother had told her. Stories about a lantern an old trickster had stolen from a devil. A lantern in which the mad old pony had kept his wicked soul to keep it from being drug into the underworld. The story was the kind that the old whispered to the young when they wanted to frighten them into being quiet and sitting still, exactly the kind children secretly adored and couldn't get enough of.

These were jack-o-lanterns! Pumpkins carved to mimic the lantern from those old stories. Farm ponies would carve them from time to time to ward off evil spirits or to light their way home. They were meant to be objects of comfort and aid to the living and wards against the restless dead. So why then did she find their silent smiles so disquieting?

As her hoof came in contact with the gourd, there was a shock as a spark leapt from her hoof to the pumpkin shell. She yanked back her hoof and sucked on the smarting appendage. As she glared at the jack-o-lantern in consternation, she noticed that the pumpkin's interior began to glow brighter, and hotter than before. That wasn’t all, the jack-o-lantern began to rock gently back and forth as smoke began to pour from its carved face!

It was not just the one that she had touched either, but every jack-o-lantern began to shake as if they were being caught up in an earthquake. Choking smoke quickly flooded the air and flowed like oil across the ceiling. Sparks and embers spilling from their pumpkin grins set the floor and furniture smoldering.

There was a low groan and a creak of floorboards as the young mare watched in growing alarm as thick roots and vines burst from the floor and lifted the nearest pumpkins on thorn covered stalks. As the plants rapidly grew they swelled into a shape not unlike a pony, save with a pumpkin shell where the head should be. As she watched in horror, the jack-o-lanterns rolled about on their new ‘necks’ and gave wild breathy cries, not unlike childish laughter!

These things were like timberwolves! Those strange, elemental creatures that were more plant than animal that sometimes stalked the deep woods and wild forests. As one, the grinning pumpkin ponies tore free of their roots and began to stalk toward the young mare!

She turned to flee the cottage, however outside the pony could see an entire mob of the same bizarre creatures, gouts of flame leaping from their hollow heads, coming up the dirt path and surrounding the house. A rotten vegetable stench rose on the air as they set fire to everything outside! A particularly vicious looking pumpkin-beast turned a gaping maw, dripping with liquid fire, in her direction. The filly had only moments to back away from the front door before a volcanic burst of flaming death struck where she had been standing only moments before!

All around her the pumpkins were shaking now, forcing their way up through splintering floorboards and roaring with an inner furnace heat that singed her skin by their mere presence!

She had to escape!

The only clear path away seemed to lead upstairs. Not pausing to think how she might make her escape from the second story, the little pony kicked her way free of the grasping vines and barbed tendrils that tried to wrap around her legs and quickly stomped up the stairs and away from the fiery plant monsters. It wasn't long before the pumpkin shells were vomiting flames and cinders behind her, setting fire to the stairs, causing them to wobble beneath her as she reached the top.

Scrabbling her way onto the landing above, the filly kicked out at the banister with her hind legs, shaking the already weakened structure further. With a magnificent crash, the stairs gave way, and collapsed into a pile of kindling atop the plant monsters below. Kindling it was too, as the jack-o-lantern ponies continued to torch the home with their horrible breath, turning the floor below into a sea of flames! The conflagration grew so hot, and the smoke so thick, that the pony found it impossible to breathe.

Hacking and coughing, she made her way to the nearest window, but something on the other side of the room made her stop dead in her tracks. Four fully grown pumpkin-headed pony-creatures looming over the now flaming bed, their grinning faces bent low over something that twitched and thrashed beneath the burning comforter. The thing on the bed shook so hard that it was a blur of motion, rendered featureless and worm-like by its thrashing speed. Even so, there was something familiar about this scene that shook the mare to her core.

The sounds of noisy eating as the pumpkin grins ripped and tore gobbets of stringy flesh from the thing that writhed beneath them sent a thrill of both revulsion and longing that made it impossible to look away. By some silent cue, the monsters one by one moved from the vibrating form tangled in the sheets and turned their fiery gaze instead on the transfixed mare. Wracked with pain as her stomach cramped afresh, the farm pony could not have fled at that moment even had she wanted to.

In high hissing voices, the jack-o-lanterns began to laugh and sing...

Nightmare Night...” They started to move toward her, their tendrils creeping insidiously inch by inch towards her. Their bodies made a strange rustling noise, like dead leaves, as they slid closer. She couldn't help but notice bright autumnal leaves sprouting from their bodies and falling flaming to the floor where they crisped and curled into tiny grey motes of ash. The blurred figure on the bed bucked and wordlessly shrieked with a gaping mouth locked in a silent scream.

“What a fright...” the pain in the earth pony's stomach only worsened as the monstrosities drew closer. She could feel her intestines squirming and throbbing inside like a nest of vipers. It hurt too much to move. There was something wrong with her. Something terribly wrong. Flames began to creep towards her along with the now burning plant ponies, their bodies incandescent in the choking smoke. They were drenched in flames now, engulfed in crackling fire that was as eager to devour as they were.

“Give us something...” She felt herself take one step back, and then another, willing herself to move away from the obvious threat to life and limb. It was getting hard to think but recoiling from their fiery tongues was instinctual. Her vision was red and black around the edges and spots swam before her eyes. The flaming monstrosities were close enough now that she could smell them. Rotting pumpkin guts, dry leaves, charred flesh, and cooking meat. The scent was oddly...

Sweet.

The mare moaned as her stomach roared!

“Sweet...to...bite...” As the nearest pumpkin-head loomed over her, something inside her snapped. With a primal roar of famished fury, the earth pony lunged at the distorted creature and took a massive bite out of its burning face. Her mouth filled with the sensation of hot coals and the taste of flesh, but even so she chewed and swallowed with relish! The creatures head, now missing a sizable chunk, collapsed in on itself as it let out a quiet sigh. The other pumpkin creatures backed away fearfully as a broad smile spread wide on the face of the burned and bloody pony. Their laughter turned to whimpers.

That was when the support beam below, weakened by the fire, finally gave way and the second story fell into the first.

The smile fled the earth pony's face as swiftly as it had come and her eyes grew wide with terror as she felt herself hang in mid-air for a moment before plummeting towards the flames below. She reached out, trying to grab for something, anything, to save herself. However, as shattered pumpkins and scorched leaves rained down around her, there was nothing that wasn't falling with her.

She had one last glimpse of the figure writhing on the bed as she fell. Bloodstained and half eaten though it was, the figure had at last slowed its struggles so she finally had a good look at its face.

At this point, it was almost no surprise at all that the face was a familiar one. It was one the young mare saw in the mirror every day after all.

"Wake up!" the filly screamed at her sleeping self as the fire roared around her. "You have to wake up!"