Tales from Macabria: Overgrowth
Tales from Macabria: Overgrowth
The town of Macabria was no stranger to unusual happenings. Just as it was so in the world of light, the strange and unusual world of darkness was victim to its share of calamity. As it happened, it was on this particular day that such a calamity struck.
It was on the very first week of her training as an agent that Sweetie Belle went walking down that one street to that one house to meet that one person who knew so much about the animals of the world. As an agent-in-training, it was going to be her job to control, cull, and possibly even sometimes hunt the beasts that inhabited the world. Whatever the case, she had much to learn, and was going to go on a trip to the menagerie with her dark host’s closest friend to do just that.
On a typical sunless day, as the blood red moon hung crescent in the sky as Sweetie Belle rounded the corner. It was only a few streets away from the home she was staying at during her training for the year, near enough for her to walk.
The streets were as busy as ever at the edge of the residential area where she lived. On her way to her destination, she passed by the usual entourage of weirdos, oddballs and the strangest strangers she had ever seen. There was a one man show where the performer wore a hat rack on his back and kept changing into different people every time he changed his hat. There was a woman whose entire upper body was covered by a heavy sheet with a single hole cut for her bloodshot eye to peer out and swivel around as if it were independent of her body. As she was watching the veiled woman over her shoulder, Sweetie passed right through a boy her age who was entirely made of black flames contained in his clothes.
Sweetie quickly extinguished any of the flames that had clung to her mane, thankful that the fire didn’t burn at all, exchanged apologies with the boy then went on her way. And this time, she would be more careful to watch out for any other potential hazards that might have come her way.
The corner that she was looking for was coming up. In a few moments, she was going to have a day of fun with her friend, all the while training to be an agent. She knew that it wouldn’t all be trips to the menagerie and spending time with friends. But, for the time being, she was going to enjoy it thoroughly.
She turned down onto the residential street and saw in plain view the home she was looking for. Seeing it so near, Sweetie Belle trotted down the lane to get her training started.
It was only partway down the street that Sweetie realized one crucial error in her plan. She had no idea which house it was that she was looking for.
Sweetie Belle walked down the street, looking at each of the houses that she passed by. Each one remarkably similar to the last, with the same black, pointed, wrought iron fence. The same lawn of sickly, green grass. The same brownish brick walls supporting the same blackish roof. The only real way that she could tell them apart was by the different decorations that each owner of the homes had placed out front.
Sweetie Belle stopped walking and looked over her shoulder. The street had curved so that she could no longer see the road that she had turned from to be on the one she was at now. And the busy sounds of that other street had all but faded into the distance. She knew that she had gone too far now. Then again, she didn’t actually know where she was going. Taking her chances she continued down that road. And it was only a few more steps that she realized that she had found exactly where she wanted to be.
The mailbox at the front was hand painted with pink flowers and multicolored night mare silhouettes, all surrounded by one of those purple and gold halos of light that appeared around the dark world’s moon every time after a rainfall.
There was no name on the box, but Sweetie Belle knew that there was no mistaking that style. She had come to the right place.
Sweetie Belle allowed herself past the gate, and observed that the yard was decorated with a tree that held many handcrafted animal homes, as did the shrubberies that dotted the sides of the pavement that led to the front door.
When she reached the front door, Sweetie had to stand on her rear hooves and jump in order to reach the knocker, an adorable decoration made to look like a werecat kitten batting a ball of yarn. She was only just able to catch the kitten’s paw in her teeth and was only able to knock against the yarn once before her teeth rattled, forcing her to let go.
Sweetie shook her head, and noticed the the mat beneath her hooves, which read in stylized knitted calligraphy:
‘WERECATS WELCOME
ALL OTHERS MERELY TOLERATED’
Smirking at the mat, Sweetie looked back up at the door.
“Hello? Molly? Are you home?” she called out.
Sweetie didn’t expect an answer right away. Knowing Molly, she was rehearsing for some performance, practicing dance moves, going over lyrics, reviewing choreography, or most likely picking the right costume (even more likely a crowd-pleaser). But, the moments passed to almost a minute, and there was no response.
“Molly, it’s me. Sweetie Belle. We’re supposed to go to the menganerie...The mejanna...To the zoo today,” Sweetie called.
There was still no answer.
Sweetie Belle waited. When there was no answer again, she raised her hoof to knock directly on the door. And the door was opened for her.
“Finally! Come on, Molly! I want to see the…” Sweetie Belle trailed off when she saw that there was nobody there at the door. Looking past the doorway, she saw something long, dark and slender dart around a nearby doorway.
“Are you there?” Sweetie asked, expecting that Molly had simply extended one of her arms to open the door. “Hello?”
Without any heed or caution, Sweetie Belle let herself in, finding that the lamps had only been lit to their absolute minimum. She approached the doorway that she had seen Molly’s limb retract through and peered around.
“Molly?” she asked.
The door eased to a silent close behind Sweetie Belle. And as she rounded into the next room, the front door was slowly sealed shut as tendril after tendril was lashed across it.
When she entered the next room, Sweetie Belle saw only the living room, decorated with pink wallpaper, white lace doilies, a rosy little tea table with a cup of tea on it, rows of plush animals lined along the shelves like little families, and a fluffy couch that Rarity would have killed to have in her house. But, there was no sign of Molly.
“Hello? Anypony home?” she called.
From the doorway, dark tendrils snaked along the frame, creeping across the walls and the ceiling toward her.
Sweetie Belle investigated the teacup on the table. She sniffed it, placed her hoof in it, and found that it couldn’t have been there more than ten minutes. Whatever was going on, it had happened only recently.
The dark shapes reached for Sweetie Belle, curling over one another in a silent rush to grasp the filly.
Sweetie’s heart gradually began to beat faster and faster, and her mind clenched with the overwhelming tension that she wasn’t alone in that house.
“Molly!” Sweetie shouted.
“Sweetie Belle.”
Sweetie Belle turned around and saw nothing but the empty room.
“Molly, where are you?” she called, her nerves shaking.
“In the back, Sweetie Belle.”
It was definitely Molly’s voice speaking. Even though Sweetie couldn’t put her hoof on it, she knew that something wasn’t right about her friend’s voice. Like she was trying to find a new voice for some character that she was supposed to play.
Sweetie Belle left the living room and turned down the hall toward the back rooms. Hope as she did to find Molly walking up to meet her, no such thing happened. Instead, she just walked deeper and deeper into that empty house, as the hall behind her was slowly overtaken by those shadowy shapes.
From the living room to the hall, Sweetie found that she was now in a den or a lounge. Or perhaps it was a parlour. She never could tell the difference. The only thing for sure was that Molly wasn’t there either.
“Sweetie Belle,” the voice sweetly called.
“Molly, where are you?” Sweetie asked.
She heard a rustling to her side. Slowly, Sweetie Belle turned her head. At the very edge of her vision something moved. She gasped and quickly turned to face the intruder, and saw in the doorway a tall, shapely silhouette with leafy fronds on its head.
“Molly! For pony’s sake! You almost scared the horse apples out of me,” Sweetie said
She waited for a response, but there was none from Molly.
“Are you ready for our trip to the zoo?” Sweetie asked.
Molly still said nothing.
If Sweetie Belle squinted, she thought that Molly seemed oddly bare. Not surprising, considering her usual choice in wardrobe. Except now, Sweetie Belle couldn’t make out that Molly was wearing any clothing at all.
“Is everything alright?” Sweetie Belle asked, as she slowly walked closer to Molly.
As she got closer, she saw that the normally smooth, curvaceous contours of Molly’s body had unusual grooves on them. And if she had any face, she couldn’t see where any eyes, nose or mouth went.
One more step, and Sweetie felt something smooth and fleshy beneath her hooves. Looking down, she saw something that was the same sickly green color as the grass outside, but it had a single streak of pink down the center, which radiated outward like veins at the edge. And it twitched beneath her hooves.
Sweetie Belle yelped and stepped off of the thing, which folded up at the edges and lifted up, taking with it only a few sundry items that were lying around. The objects all slid toward the silhouette of Molly, whose leg unfurled into a mass of vines that stabbed into what had been collected into the terrible scoop.
In wide-eyed horror, Sweetie Belle watched as what once was a familiar silhouette completely unraveled into a swath of leafy vines. The scoop that had nearly gotten her reared up and was joined by others, revealing themselves to be monstrous leaves. The leaves all spread as wide as they could go and shivered menacingly.
Sweetie shivered as well, and began rapidly backing away toward the hall. Something brushed against her tail, and she turned around to see another tangle of leafy vines reaching for her. She screamed and tried to rush into the hall.
A swath of vines reached down from the hall doorway, stopping Sweetie in her tracks. She turned around and ran to the other end of the room, where she ran through an empty doorway into another room.
She bumped into a table and ran to the side, getting tripped up by the chairs next to herself. Sweetie stumbled over the fallen chair, just noticing the vines snaking through the doorway from the corner of her eye.
One of the vines reached for her.
Sweetie clambered over the chair, narrowly dodging another vine that reached for her. She ran along a row of cabinets, and skidded to a stop when more of the vines slithered toward her. Sweetie swung a cabinet door open and slammed it into the vines, which recoiled sharply.
More vines started slithering toward her, opening and closing a giant pair of leaves like a set of snapping jaws.
Sweetie backed away from the leaves and climbed onto one of the chairs at the table.
The vines started pulling the chair apart and Sweetie climbed up to the tabletop.
Down below, the vines flooded the floor. Sweetie Belle was trapped on the one island, surrounded by a sea of killer vegetation.
One of the vines started creeping up over the edge of the table.
Sweetie Belle grabbed fruit from the bowl on the table, finding that it was only wax. All the better for throwing at the vines.
Whether she hit or missed, the vines retracted. Only for a moment, making Sweetie throw every piece of fruit she had. Once she was out of ammo, she threw the bowl at a vine that rose up before her.
“Sweetie Belle.”
Molly’s voice called out from somewhere among the sea of vines. Sweetie looked and looked for her friend, knowing she had been saved by some miracle.
“Sweetie Belle.”
Molly’s voice was closer now. And then it was all around her. Then she heard Molly’s voice calling her name as if there were a hundred of her all trying to talk over one another.
More of the vines rose up, each with a flower that opened and closed their petals. As the petals moved, the inner parts of the flower issued a noise that sounded eerily similar to Molly calling out for Sweetie Belle.
The flowered vines moved closer, and Sweetie saw a giant pair of leaves start folding over the edges of the table.
Sweetie picked up a glass shaker full of pepper, knocking over the shaker of salt that was next to it as she did, and threw it at the flowers.
The flowers on the vine gagged and choked, and shook the flakes of pepper from their petals.
Sweetie felt something next to her hoof and saw one of the vines reaching for her. She kicked it away, knocking it into the mess of salt that she had made. The vine began to wither and turn brown, before it stiffened and retracted.
Memories of trying to get a gardening cutie mark flashed into her mind, when she singlehoofedly destroyed any chance they had of that by fertilizing the soil with rock salt. She picked up the shaker of salt and began violently shaking it all around herself.
The vines all retracted. Even if they weren’t touched by the salt crystals, they backed away like they were next to the most repulsive thing that ever existed.
The leaves started closing in on the table, making the table creak and groan.
Sweetie tried throwing salt on them, but they continued to squeeze the table.
In a last ditch effort, Sweetie Belle jumped onto the back of one of the chairs and stayed atop it as it fell over backwards, shaking salt all the while.
The vines on the floor browned quickly and pulled away, making a clear spot for the filly to land. She kept throwing salt ahead of her, making the vines all snap back from her.
Sweetie Belle kept clearing a path for herself. She could see the front door growing nearer, blocked by those evil vines.
She wouldn’t quit. Not when she was so close to escape. She would get out, tell Courtney, then let a real agent take care of the monster that had taken over Molly’s house.
From the living room to the side, an especially large vine snaked through the doorway and arched its length when it hovered over Sweetie Belle.
The filly stared at the vine, clenching the salt shaker in her teeth before she swung it as hard as she could. The vine recoiled, but stopped quickly. No brown appeared on it, and it remained as flexible as ever.
Glimpsing down, Sweetie saw that she was out of ammunition again.
She rolled to the side just as a giant leaf slapped down on top of her.
The vine darted at her hoof.
Sweetie climbed to the top of a shoe cubby. At the top, hats were lined up in a row on tiny hooks.
She blocked the vine’s nest attack with one of the hats and pushed it aside. A vine reached up for her from the floor, forcing her up further.
The cubby began to wobble and she leaned forward. Before she went crashing to the floor, she jumped for the handrail on the stairs.
The vines thrashed beneath the cubby as Sweetie Belle climbed over the rail onto the stairs. When she found her hooves, she didn’t dare look back as the vines chased her up the steps.
Sweetie Belle ran as far as she could through the upstairs, then turned into the very last room, before slamming the door shut.
There was a window at the far end of the bedroom. Thinking quickly, Sweetie scrambled across the bed and threw the largest plushie that she could get her hooves on toward the door.
She hurried to the window and fumbled with the lock.
The sounds of the rustling leaves filled her ears, and she began to hear fleshy thumps at the door.
Sweetie got the lock undone, then started trying to push the window open. But, the window wouldn’t budge. She looked up and down the window, and saw a second catch at the top.
She jumped for the catch and missed.
There was a terrible crash as the door was torn off its hinges.
Sweetie jumped again, and missed the catch.
The sounds of fabric tearing was heard, and a piece of stuffing hit the window next to Sweetie.
Once more, the filly jumped, finally grabbing the catch in her teeth. She swung back and forth, inching the catch from its slot.
The vines began snaking toward the window.
One last push, and Sweetie slid the catch open, and the windows swung outward.
Hanging from the window, Sweetie just dodged the vines as they reached for her. She let go of the window and landed on the sloping roof. When she landed, she rolled to the gutter and just grabbed the edge. Glancing down, she saw that the entire yard below her was covered in vines. Near the back, she saw a shed where the vines were pouring out the windows.
From the window, the vines grew down the roof.
Sweetie shimmied toward the drainpipe and slid down into the yard.
She immediately jumped to the top of a planter box and ran as the vines tore through the flowers after her.
Finally, there was a stroke of luck. A large pair of shears was set at the end of the planter, where a vine was reaching for them.
Sweetie burst forth and grabbed the shears.
The other handle was grabbed by the vine and lifted them and Sweetie into the air.
Twisting her body, the filly was able to get the vine between the blades and swung them closed, snipping the vine.
The moment she landed, Sweetie Belle started shearing the vines as they came. Like a soldier surrounded by enemies, the filly never stopped swinging her blades, cutting down the vines no matter how many came as she cut her way toward the shed.
A leaf rose up from the ground and closed around her, only moments before Sweetie cut her way out.
The door to the shed was locked. She instead sliced away the vines at the window, grabbed what was left in her hooves and was pulled inside as they retracted.
The inside of the shed was dark, with just enough light to see the vines writhing around.
Against the wall was where they consolidated. From within, Sweetie knew she could make out a familiar form. And as the vines moved, the spaces between them allowed an eye to be seen, pleading silently for help.
Sweetie Belle lunged forth, wielding her shears like a sword. One solid cut, and she cut right through the vines. And she cut again and again, dropping the vines to the ground, revealing more and more of her trapped friend.
When the last of the vines were cut, Molly dropped to the floor, dressed in nothing but her nightgown, breathing heavily
“Molly? Are you alright?” Sweetie Belle asked, dropping her shears.
Molly slowly lifted her head, her face twisted with rage.
“Molly?” Sweetie shakily asked.
“You...obnoxious...BITCH!!” Molly growled as she grabbed the shears from the floor.
Sweetie held up her hooves and closed her eyes, hoping that Molly would somehow miss her.
Miss she did, as the filly heard Molly loudly snipping something else in the shed. After so many cuts, she looked and saw Molly drop the shears to the floor. And all around them, the vines stopped slithering, the flowers stopped pulsating and the leaves stopped flapping.
Sweetie Belle stood to her shaking legs, looking around at the dead plants.
“Sweetie Belle!” Molly said, her arms extending to pick up the filly and hold her tightly. “Thank you so much for saving me!”
“What was that thing?” Sweetie asked.
Molly placed Sweetie Belle on the ground and walked to a table counter in the shed. More questions rose when she saw Molly indicate a plant in a pot. One that had fern-like tendrils and many clipped stubs.
“Sweetie Belle, meet my newest sister,” Molly tersely said.
“That thing? That thing that almost killed us is your sister?” Sweetie asked.
“Yes. Normally, my siblings live with my mother at her nursery when they’re this young. But, oh goodness, she has such a large crop this year and can’t fit them all into her greenhouse. Darkness’s sake, she’s got three of them! And a plot the size of a small village! But it’s still up to me, big sister, to take care of this horrible little sod, who first thing tries to take over my home! I swear, if she even touched my hats, I’ll salt her soil!” Molly said, as she stuffed her trimmed sibling into a glass case and sealed it shut.
“Oh...Actually,” Sweetie began.
“And woe betide her if she even got near my plushies! ” Molly said, leading Sweetie Belle from the shed.
Sweetie glimpsed uncomfortably to the ground as she walked.
Molly paused and knelt down to Sweetie’s height.
“But, you’re not hurt, are you?” Molly asked, rubbing her fingers through Sweetie’s mane.
“No,” was all Sweetie Belle answered.
“No matter the mess my sister made, that’s what matters. Come along. Let me get dressed first, before we go to the menagerie,” Molly said.
It took some time for Molly to pick her clothes. Her skin was still slightly browned after the adventure with The Wicker Man, so she had to choose something to cover her unsightly skin. In the end, she chose a dress that bared only her leg that was still green, pair of gloves that reached just beneath her elbows, a scarf to hide her neck and a hat to top it all off.
They met with their friends and spent the day at the menagerie, learning about the animals that inhabited the dark world. All through the day, Sweetie Belle reflected on her adventure that morning. How she had her first real experience as a hunter of the monsters that went out of control. Even though her life was in danger multiple times, saving the life of her friend was more than worth the harrowing experience. She would become an agent one day. For now, she would just enjoy being a filly with her friends.
Author's Note
And that is that for the 'Tales from Macabria' stories.
Happy Halloween everybody. I had so much to do lately that I almost didn't think that I'd have this ready in time for Halloween. But, I pulled it off.
Since we've already done Apple Bloom practicing her witchcraft and Scootaloo doing her mediumism, it stood to reason that we would see Sweetie Belle begin her training as a monster hunter, which in this fantasy world are called agents (for no reason other than that it sounds cool).
It took me a while to decide what kind of monster that Sweetie would face against for her adventure. I thought about all these different creatures from European folklore that would have been a good fit for her, but I really wanted Molly to be featured in one of these stories. So, I decided that it would be a plant creature with some relation to Molly. Just one that's more vicious and savage. Originally, it was going to be Molly, who had gone into blood withdrawal and had gone into a dormant state where she grows vines that search for blood for her to drink. I nixed it and decided to make it one of Molly's siblings.
I don't know if this will be the very last story that's set in the world of Macabria. Who knows? Somewhere down the road, I might get another idea and start expanding upon the world and the lore. Maybe even make a proper sequel to Witchcraft is Magic. People really seem to like that one. Whatever happens, I'll be rocking on with you \m/
