Skeletons in the Closet

A yellow filly with a red mane and a bright pink bow stood in the middle of a cornfield. She stared on at a scarecrow, eyes fixated on the intricate details of the sewing. She wasn’t alone. In fact, she was accompanied by her older sister who was off harvesting the crop.

“Apple Bloom, ya gotta help me,” her older sister called through the corn.

The young filly dragged her eyes off the scarecrow. “Huh? Oh yeah, I will, Applejack. Sorry.” She picked up a large woven basket in her mouth and dragged it over to the row parallel to her sister.

Applejack broke off husks of corn and threw them in her own basket. “Why’d ya get so distracted?”

Apple Bloom got to work on her portion of the crop. “I guess I just never noticed how lifelike that scarecrow is,” she admitted. “Why do we change it so often?”

Applejack tore a stray leaf off of the corn and turned to look at her sister. “They just don’t last very long,” she explained as she eyed the row of corn behind Apple Bloom. “Hey, ya gotta do a better job. You’re gonna make it hard for the corn to grow back.”

Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder, realizing her mistake. “Oh, yeah.” She shook her head. “Sorry.” She continued to harvest the corn, making sure now to do it properly, but yet there was a strange feeling crawling through her mind. She couldn’t quite place what it was.

She flicked her eyes back to the scarecrow. It was different than most scarecrows she’d seen before. While the ones at other farms she’s been to were made of burlap sacks and stuffed lazily with hay, these were made of a finer material, dyed to look more pony-like. Whenever they were changed, the colour of the “fur” did, too. She asked Applejack once why they couldn’t use regular scarecrows like the other ones she’d seen before, but Applejack insisted that “Apples do it our own way. It’s what makes us successful.”

The only thing Apple Bloom didn’t really like about them is that they were scary. They always smelled kind of weird, like vinegar, and the scarecrow was often adorned with different clothes and posed in more life-like positions. If Apple Bloom had been wandering in the field in the dark, she would have thought it was a real pony.

It wasn’t night time just yet though, and Apple Bloom still needed to finish her last chore. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went back to picking corn. At least it wasn't catching apples in a bucket on her head. That kind of hurt.

By the time the section of the crop was successfully harvested, Apple Bloom was sweating. She dragged her basket behind her as she followed her sister out of the field, once again passing the scarecrow. She took a quick peek at it again. This one was a cream colour with a yellow mane that almost looked like hay, but wasn’t the right texture. It wore a cloak on its back and was positioned in a reared up pose. Apple Bloom definitely understood why the birds were afraid of it. It was creepy.

Her sister's humming filled the air as she did not even glance at the scarecrow. They passed it entirely and walked for a little while longer until they finally reached the edge of the cornfield. Pushing their way past the slightly damp mud at the foot of the barn, they made their way in and each released their basket of corn. Apple Bloom looked at her basket, then at Applejack’s. As always, it seemed like her older sister always did more than the filly could. Applejack was older, though, so Apple Bloom never spent much time feeling sorry for herself.

The orange mare walked up next to the younger filly and rubbed her hoof against the big bow she wore. “Great work, Apple Bloom. I reckon we finished off the corn harvest a day early, even with Big Mac off doin’ a delivery.”

Apple Bloom smiled. “Yeah!” She gently nudged Applejack’s hoof away. “I told the Crusaders we could hang out in the clubhouse after I was done. Can I go?”

There was a moment of hesitation as Applejack frowned. She briefly shut her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just get home before dark, you know the rules. Don’t want anythin’ happenin’ to ya.”

Apple Bloom shuddered. As long as she’d been alive, and even longer than that, ponies occasionally went missing in Ponyville, and it usually happened right around the new moon when the night time was darkest. She didn’t need to be told twice. “Will do, Applejack. I promise!”

With that being said, Apple Bloom wasted no time running out of the barn and leaving Applejack to store the corn. She wasn’t tall enough to do it herself, anyway. Trekking down the familiar path that led to the treehouse that she’d grown to know as a second home, Apple Bloom hummed the same tune Applejack was humming earlier. She didn’t know what song it was, or where it came from, but it had been particularly catchy and got embedded in her head.

As she approached the small, refurbished treehouse, she could hear Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo talking inside. They seemed excited about something, but their words were too muffled to make out. With growing curiosity, Apple Bloom set off into a short trot up to the treehouse and in through the door. “Hiya, girls!” she greeted as she shut the door behind them, ensuring that anypony who happened to walk by knew they were having a closed meeting.

Sweetie Belle turned to look at Apple Bloom. “Oh, good! You’re here!” She and Scootaloo looked at each other and grinned. “We had a really good idea!”

Apple Bloom cocked her head. “Oh really? What is it?” She had to admit, this reminded her of back before they even had their cutie marks, back when they would think of numerous things to do to try to get them. It seemed extremely silly that they never thought of helping other foals get their cutie marks before.

Scootaloo clapped her hooves together once. “Okay, so you know how there have been all those ponies that have been going missing?”

Apple Bloom wasn’t sure where the conversation was heading. “Yeah…”

“Well, we thought we could—”

“Look for them!” Sweetie Belle interrupted. Scootaloo shot her a hard look. “Sorry, Scoot. I got excited,” she mumbled sheepishly.

The short-maned filly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well yeah. We thought we could look for them. I mean, it’s been happening for a really long time. Whoever—or whatever—is doing it is bound to mess up, right? If these disappearances follow the same pattern that everypony’s always talking about, then one should happen tonight.” Scootaloo pulled out a paper with a crudely drawn map of Ponyville on it from behind her and laid it out on the ground. “There haven’t been any foals taken yet, so I think we should be okay. If we split up here, here, and here,” she gestured to different areas on the map, “then we should be able to cover the most ground and see if anything weird is happening.”

Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin. “I dunno about this, guys…” She considered the map and the areas that Scootaloo had pointed out. “Just because we’re still foals doesn’t mean we’re safe. What if we get taken?”

Sweetie Belle spoke up. “That’s why we have these!” She pushed forward a box to the centre of the map. “Whistles. If anything happens, we blow on them,” she lifted one to her mouth and blew. “That way, the others can come as quick as possible before anything bad happens!”

Apple Bloom rubbed her ear and waited for the slight ringing to disappear. “I guess.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hoof-bumped. They looked eagerly at Apple Bloom, who was still unsure about the situation. She raised her hoof and completed the three-way hoof bump. They each cheered in excitement, although Apple Bloom’s was feigned.