Return to Bittersweet Apple Acres

I have never forgotten Trevor's face since that day, nor the tone of his voice when he spoke his last words. He should've never died the way he did, and, thanks to my stubbornness and idiotic hope for an impossible cause, he did, and is now trapped for eternity in that place.

I have never forgiven myself for it, and have cried in every instance that that haunting last image of him crossed my mind. It completely broke my mind after I just ran away from that horrid sight, changing "innocent little Flora Bloom" for the rest of her life.

I'd never witnessed death so graphically in my life up to that point, so the sight of it alone had shaken me to my core and affected my mentality like a virus. I don't even remember running for those next ten minutes; all I remember is crying and just not stopping, until my stamina gave way from exhaustion.

My face had probably looked as if I'd cried ink or tar, along with my fur being drenched in dark crimson and dirt. I hadn't cared and had only been able to see a replay of Trevor's gruesome end flashing every second before my eyes.

I had been lost and broken, like a filly or colt lost in a big city without their parents; wishing I had never even become curious about the Sweet Apple Massacre and praying for Princess Flare to hear me beyond that realm to come and save us.

To extinguish this livid and ruthless evil we'd found out of our own stupidities.

But nothing ever came, and all that I could've done was run until that barn door would unlock.

And, that's what I did. I ran almost nonstop through that endless labyrinth, even if my hooves objected. I ran as if I was deadset on finishing first in a race, like a raging bull, like I knew I couldn't stop.

I just trotted and trotted, up until I heard a scream.

Sarah's scream.

One year earlier

A distant shrill scream broke the ambient sound of the creaking pipes, bringing Flora to a skidding stop. She'd been running for an unsure amount of time, her focus having been more focused on just putting as much distance between the headless witch pursuing her and her friends and her.

She knew that scream well, having heard it a plentiful amount of times throughout her teen years as a result of a successful scary prank. It came from the mare whom she knew was easily scared, despite her appearance, attitude, and role as a medium.

"Sarah!"

Her emotions started to build up again, Trevor's demise flashing before her eyes like the rapid succession of a strobe light again.

She couldn't let another one of her friends die.

She wouldn't.

Wiping her tears away, she listened closely, hoping for Sarah to scream again. Not even a second later, another shrill and desperate scream pierced the air, and Flora honed in on where it was coming from.

She was great at determining directions of sounds, having been in the Filly Scouts before and knowing how to determine where things like cries of help came from in settings like forests. The pipes were a little deceiving, but she could tell for sure that the sound was coming from above her, to which she hustled to find a way to ascend from her current area to an upper floor.

The pipes were big enough to climb on, so she could use them like a ladder to move upward to another floor. However, one thing she didn't know was the state of the pipes.

Were the rusted and fragile or sturdy and solid?

She wasn't sure if it was her ambition leading her to a potentially dangerous action, but she didn't care. A friend was in danger, and she wasn't going to let these monsters take another victim.

She eventually found a wall with pipes that lined it like a ladder, and, upon looking upward, a small opening just big enough for her to fit through. The condition of the pipes wasn't good, rusted patches being visible along the entirety of their length, but Flora didn't care.

She found a non-rusted spot that seemed sturdy enough for her to climb on and not fall through, and started her ascent to the next upper level. Upon contact with the pipes, Flora was surprised to find them as study as a newly formed block of concrete, not even seeming fragile or in a decrepit condition.

With that assurance, she continued upward, sliding through the small opening with ease and up into a very claustrophobic space that continued for at least another twenty feet. Flora wasn't worried about fatigue, being fit enough to outlast heavy amounts of climbing, despite her being a pegasus. Sure, flying up would've been easier, but the amount of space made flapping her wings impossible, something she thought was intentional to keep the chase "fun."

After the full climb of twenty feet, the area opened to the left to a thin linear path that had a small rectangular opening to the right of it.

Flora nearly jumped upon the sound of another scream mixed with the very evident sound of a hammer pounding against something, coming from just outside the rectangular opening.

The scream was muffled this time, meaning her tormentor had finally decided to shut her up, to which Flora shed tears at. Now, she was in the danger zone and would have to step lightly to manage not being noticed.

Another set of screams and hammer pounding set off, to which Flora used as a cover for her to move toward the opening to the room where Sarah was. The sounds horrified Flora, and upon meeting the opening, she realized why Sarah's screams had been so shrill.

Just like the Jane Doe pony, Sarah's hooves were in the process of being nailed, but instead of a wall, Sarah was seated on a wooden chair with her limbs and throat bound by barbed wire, some sort of strange device positioned around her head that looked to be just as malevolent. Her back legs had already been nailed to the chair, and currently her left hoof was being pounded into with a nail by a much larger and muscular pony.

They had an orange mane and blood red body, their cutie mark being the cross section of a green apple. Flora could only guess that this was that demented mare's brother, Big Macintosh; the main pony who operated the grinder while the massacre was still going on.

Apparently he was a torturer as well, and, judging from the current situation, he wasn't any less brutal as his sister.

"Celestia above… How can anypony do this?"

Flora knew she couldn't fight or even pose a threat to this giant, so she started to look around for anything she could use as a distraction. Luckily, she found a small piece of wood just outside of the opening that she could reach, grabbing it with care and as much silence as she could muster.

With the wood gripped, she quickly surveyed the room, looking around for somewhere to toss the wood far enough to get him to leave the room. After one scout of the relatively small room, she quickly found an open doorway that was open enough for her to get a clear throw.

With careful aim, she counted down in her head and prepped the throw.

"Three, two, one…

The wood went flying to the doorway and through, landing with a clank in the distance. The large and buff stallion seized his torture and perked his ears at the sound, setting aside his hammer and moving out of the room to investigate the noise.

Once the coast was clear, Flora moved hastily out of her hiding place and into the room. Sarah jumped at the sight of her friend's intrusion, breathing and sweating heavily from the unholy amounts of excruciating pain she had endured.

She didn't move too much, not wanting the barbed wire to catch her neck, but she did mutter through her covered mouth at the sudden ray of hope she'd been given.

"Sarah, it's okay, I'm going to get you out of here!" Flora assured, looking around for something to cut the barbed wire with.

Off to the side, Flora caught sight of the arsenal of torture tools that Big Macintosh had or was yet to use. The only bloodied up tool was the hammer, meaning Sarah's torture hadn't gotten too far to where serious injury could be applied.

She was relieved at it, but saw no wire cutters on the tray of tools, causing her to panic a little, starting to look along the floor and around the chair Sarah was seated in. Upon surveying the area, she quickly found something that somewhat calmed her nerves, finding that the barbed wire had been nailed to the chair.

With that assurance, she quickly worked back to the tray, grabbing the hammer and starting to dislodge the nails from the barbed wire like a madpony.

She knew time was not on her side, so she worked quickly, managing to pull out the nails rather easily, the wood of the chair being not the healthiest. With that done, and the threat of the barbed wire causing additional damage extinguished, she moved to the next grueling step of dislodging the nails from Sarah's hooves.

"Okay Sarah," she said while placing the opposite forked end of the hammer to where she could grip the nail head. "I'm going to need you to just breathe and count to five."

Sarah's eyes changed to where she started to cry and object through the cloth, but Flora just ignored her friend's pleas and continued.

"Ready? One, two, three!"

She pulled the hammer back as hard as she could, the nail starting to slither out and the wound starting to pulse blood out. Sarah protested loudly through the cloth, the pain shocking her nerves and setting her hoof on fire.

It took five long agonizing seconds, but the nail finally released its embrace with Sarah's body, the nail soaked in crimson upon its collapse to the wooden floor.

Her hoof bled severely as Flora moved to the next one, gripping the nail head and beginning to pull yet again. Sarah wanted to object with her free hoof, but knew if she wanted to get out and live, she needed to let Flora do this.

Five more agonizing seconds, another nail free and temporary bleeding.

Sarah had her front hooves back and free to use at her leisure, but there were two still to go. Flora gave her no rest, moving to the floor and starting her removal of the other two nails.

Ten more seconds of her back legs burning like fire and nerves dancing as if she'd been tased later, she was finally free.

Minus whatever held her head in place.

Sarah manually attempted to free her head from the grip of the two rectangular metal slabs tightly holding both sides of her head in place, but it was as if she were part of the slabs. Flora moved to the back of the chair, examining the device that held her friend tightly for any sort of way to release its hold, finding absolutely nothing.

Then she saw it.

The stallion had returned, standing still in the doorway on the opposite side of the room with a blank expression. Only until now had Flora seen the gaping wound across the perimeter of his throat, remembering that he and the entire family, after Applejack's demise, had committed suicide as a way of solidifying their refusal to justice.

"Eenope," he said calmly, following him lifting his back leg and kicking something.

Upon the sudden sound of an electric current and the eruption of a machine, both of their hearts plummeted. It only grew more horrifying upon the discovery of the machine, now in full function, being whatever Sarah's head was currently bound to.

Then it hit Flora.

The machine was a vice.

Upon connecting the dots, Flora panicked and began to scramble for a way to stop the machine from functioning any further. The situation grew all the more desperate and grim upon Big Mac following up his activation of the device through the switch of a lever with violent kicks, up until the lever snapped like a twig.

He then took off on a hasty trot, leaving Flora to a hopeless situation as Sarah began to scream from the assured and absolute gruesome end to her life. Flora had no idea what to do, pounding the machine with the hammer as hard as possible, but to no avail, along with rushing over to where the switch once had been and trying with all of her strength to pull it back to its "off" position.

Sarah's hooves flung wildly, and her screams wailed in absolute terror and desperation for some miracle to save her, the pressure of the vice growing to the point of where her head felt like it was going to implode on itself.

And that's exactly what was going to happen if Flora didn't find a way to stop the horror from continuing or for the impossible possibility of the machine to malfunction and die to occur.

Hope didn't exist there, and upon the sickening sound of Sarah's skull being crushed growing audible, Sarah's screams turned to chokes, her eyes popped out like a mole from its hole in "Whack A Mole," and the sound of blood leaking from wounds filled the room.

Sarah's completed upper head was crushed to nothing but mush and a bloody pulp, and upon the horrid sight of her friend's grim and undeserved end, Flora lost her stomach yet again.

Sarah's body went limp as a freshly cooked noodle and her soul joined the many others doomed to eternal torture there, to which Flora just wept and screamed at.

She cried and pounded the floor in anger and guilt; she had failed another one of her best friends, and, now, their souls were forever bound to that place.

She would never forgive herself, and she knew it. She had thought Trevor was as bad as it could get, but she had been mistaken and fully made aware that the horrors of Bittersweet Apple Acres have no bounds.

After a long time, she finally got back up and walked over to Sarah's corpse, still crying; still regretting ever learning about and growing curious about anything to do with this fucking place.

Still sniffling, she gave her friend's corpse one last hug and goodbye. She didn't care about the guts or blood; this corpse was still Sarah and she'd be damned if she'd just leave one of her first ever friends without a hug and goodbye, dead or alive.

"I-I'm s-so sorry…

Releasing the hug at long last, Flora turned and ran off, her mind spiraling like a nest of awry hornets and fully aware that whatever was to come in the night was nothing she could be prepared for.

She'd always thought of what Tartarus was like, and now, she knew it. This was Tartarus.

This was Hell.

Nopony could save you, and she couldn't save anypony.

Nopony except herself.