Skeletons in the Closet

Apple Bloom shuddered. She’d never heard her sister take that tone of voice, at least not on her. “What is this place?” she asked nervously. Everything felt wrong. Like some kind of nightmare. Would Luna be showing up to save her sometime soon?

But Luna never came.

Applejack stayed still for a moment in silence. “You asked about the scarecrows before,” she finally spoke, unmoving from her place, meaning that Apple Bloom was trapped against the wall, the odour becoming more and more apparent. She felt that the only thing to do was nod, which Applejack took as a sign to continue. “Why they were… different. Why we do it different.”

Apple Bloom nodded again, unsure of what to do. She wished she’d never come down to the cellar. She should have just listened to Applejack.

Applejack took a minuscule step closer. “It’s a family secret, Apple Bloom. I was tryin’ to keep ya from it ‘cause yer too young. But I suppose ya found it on your own.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “I wasn’t too much older than you when I found out. So I guess I’ll tell ya.” She turned around quickly and began walking, motioning for Apple Bloom to follow her out. Apple Bloom stalked behind her sister, taking one last glance at the door behind her that disappeared into the darkness.

They walked back toward the orange glow of the sunset. It felt longer on the way back than it did when Apple Bloom first walked in. Apple Bloom felt uneasy. Her legs trembled with every step up the long, cold staircase. She felt every single muscle in her body begging her to run away, but something kept her there as Applejack closed the cellar doors, not bothering to put the lock back on.

Her sister took a calculated step back before turning around and walking toward the apple orchard. Apple Bloom followed, her body stiff and afraid, but it almost felt like she was no longer in control of herself. They walked silently, Applejack focused dead ahead, not once sparing a glance at the filly next to her. Apple Bloom’s throat was dry. She walked in step with her older sister who took slow, deliberate strides.

They walked through the orchard, past countless rows of trees. Apple Bloom had never even been this deep into the orchard. She’d always been told it was dangerous, but then, she’d been told a lot of things. “Aren’t we supposed to stay inside at night?” Apple Bloom inquired, barely audible over the sound of the wind picking up. Applejack did not respond.

Under the glow of the stars, they made it to a small clearing in the orchard where the surrounding trees were blackened with a disease that Apple Bloom had never seen. She looked at the scene in front of her. In the centre of the clearing was some kind of firepit surrounded by rocks and a layer of red paint in the shape of a circle with what appeared to be theurgical writing scrawled in the same vibrant red paint. It looked old and decrepit, but also somehow brand new. To the left of that was some kind of drying rack made up of twigs from the same blackened trees surrounding the area. On the floor around the racks and the firepit were dark red stains in the dead grass. Somehow, Apple Bloom knew that was not paint.

On one of the racks, Apple Bloom noticed a strip of the same yellow material that the new scarecrow was made of, except this one looked less dried out. It almost looked like…

Apple Bloom’s stomach dropped. Something was wrong, and she still couldn’t run away like she wanted. She looked over at her sister, her hooves glued to the ground. Why couldn’t she leave? “Applejack, what is this?” Her voice wavered as she asked the question, threatening tears brimming her eyes. She felt like she shouldn’t show her fear, but she couldn’t help it.

Applejack stared directly at the firepit. “Those scarecrows.” Her voice was cold and detached. “They’re different. You’re right.” She turned her head to look at the crudely built drying rack. “They don’t last long because eventually they… deteriorate.”

Apple Bloom frowned. They deteriorate? Her heartbeat picked up its pace. An image of the scarecrows flashed in her mind. They’re so lifelike. Apple Bloom’s heart skipped a beat before returning, even quicker than before. She took an unsteady step back. It was all her body allowed her. No. This can’t be happening.

If Applejack noticed Apple Bloom’s fear, she paid it no mind as she took a step closer to the pit. “It’s the family way. We’ve been doing this for generations.” Applejack laughed quietly. A horrible, terrifying laugh. She spun around to face Apple Bloom, her face contorted in a sick smile. “What Granny told y’all about the founding of Ponyville? It’s only half-truths.” She stomped a hoof down and gestured around them with the other. “We stole this land. We killed for this land. And whatever vengeful spirits stayed behind want… recompensation.” She turned her head to the flayed skin on the drying rack. “We offer them the sinners of this town. Those who have done us wrong, those who have ever lied to us, or stolen from us, or hurt us in any way.”

“And nobody is perfect, Apple Bloom.” Applejack’s face fell into a passive frown. “Everypony is fair game. We’re all sinners.” She once again took a quick glance at the firepit. “It makes it happy. We need to keep it happy, or it’ll take the whole farm down.”

At this point, Apple Bloom was trembling. Her entire body shook, her throat clenched tightly. She could barely breathe, barely comprehend what it was that Applejack was saying. That didn’t seem like her sister at all. It was like a switch had been flipped. Like something was wrong with her. Apple Bloom tried to run away, but her body wouldn’t obey her. She felt like something was holding her down.

Applejack closed the distance between them. “Don’t worry, Apple Bloom. I reacted the same way.” She stroked the filly’s mane gently, which made her even warier. “But I’ll make you understand, don’t you fret.”

The larger orange mare dragged Apple Bloom with her, back in the direction from which they came.