The Most Horrible Hearth's Warming EVER: A Candy Mare Tale

Not far away were the sounds of soldier's, clinking cutlery and raised voices, along with the the varied and complex smells of whatever was cooking outside of the mess tent. The sudden, short barks of laughter at bawdy jokes and the steady susurrous of distant conversation played delicately just on the edge of hearing. Out here, away from the glow of campfires and the warmth of her comrades, the winter wind felt like it had more bite to it, sinking its chilling teeth deep into Sugar Plum's flanks.

"I hate pulling night watch," she moaned to herself. "Of course they send the only Earth Pony in the regiment out here to freeze her tail off..."

It wasn't that earth ponies were kept out of the Royal Guard, or even that they had a hard time getting in, it was just that since most of them had spent their lives farming so there weren't many who were of a military mind. Sugar Plum had mainly joined up for the promise of a warm cot to sleep in and three square meals a day, which was a good deal after you'd spent several seasons starving in the snow of the old lands. But it had to be said that unicorns and pegasi were generally what one thought of when they imagined war-like ponies, and because of that it felt like earth ponies like Sugar Plum came up for things like 'lookout', 'latrine duty' or 'night watch' more often than her horned and winged counterparts.

It was bad enough having to remain vigilant for long hours while everypony else was resting, but it was worse on this sort of mission in the savage north. She wasn't allowed any sort of campfire, or even a lantern, for fear of giving away her position. That left her shivering in ice cold armor with nothing more than her cloak wrapped around her to try and keep out the worst of the arctic chill.

Granted, she was not the only pony on duty right now, not by a long shot.

Sugar Plum did have the pegasus corps to thank for holding back the blizzard that still raged around their encampment, otherwise she'd be having to do her job in zero visibility as well as knee deep in snow. Of course some of the unicorns of her battalion were busy casting spells to try and detect any incoming threats of a more magical nature, ever watchful for the kinds of threats there was little hope Sugar Plum would see coming. There were some unicorn's that were also standing by to cast defensive spells at a moments notice, though they were at least on standby in their tents, which she couldn't help but be a little jealous about. Since Sugar Plum could do none of those jobs so it made sense that her duties would be more limited in their variety, but it still rankled her at times like this.

If she paused to think about it, and her experience told her there would be plenty of time to think about it over the course of the long watch, it was the personal guards of Celestia and Luna that she envied the most. They had to be far more vigilant than she did, it was true, but they got to do their duty in the heart of the camp where it was warm and bright. Not out here on the edge of creation staring out into a snowy abyss that, at times, felt like it was gazing right back at her.

The cold alone would have been enough to put anypony in a foul mood, however Sugar Plum had also been warned to guard her heart against such feelings as best she could. There were things this far north that amplified and fed off of those sorts of emotions, using them against the ponies that felt them in the first place. Knowing that she couldn't even be properly upset about her circumstances without potentially making them even worse was beyond frustrating. In short, Sugar Plum could have really used a hug about now - But it was unlikely one would be forthcoming.

So the earth pony stood sentry and, trying her best, attempted to instead think only happy thoughts and turn her mind towards memories of more cheerful days. Like all soldiers do, her thoughts drifted to home. She thought of sun dappled meadows, the sound of a babbling brooks, and the not so distant laughter of children. She thought of the orchard around her family's homestead, the branches heavy with the dark purple fruits that were her namesake, ripening in the boughs as the wind played through the leaves. She could almost smell the rich scent of the delicious produce at harvest time, and it brought a smile unbidden to her cold face.

"Ah... I wish I were there now," she muttered to herself.

Her thoughts turned to how the leaves would turn in the autumn, their green fading to scarlet and then a rich burgundy, before at last being lined with the first hard frost and falling away. They would cover the ground in great mounds that would carpet the earth around her parents home. The rich dark color of the leaves always reminded Sugar Plum of her mother's homemade plum pudding. Her signature dessert was always served piping hot with lots of heavy cream at family gatherings, especially around Hearth's Warming. What the young soldier wouldn't give for one mouthful of that rich, steaming treat right about now. Memories of pulling whole sugared plums from the moist pudding danced in her head as the echo of their taste flitted across her tongue.

For just a moment, Sugar Plum forgot her discomfort and the cold and was instead lost in the experiences of bygone days. The sights, the sounds, the smells, and even the tastes of home felt all too real.

But not as real as the soft crying in the distance.

"What? Huh?" snapping back to reality, Sugar Plum shook herself from her reverie and readied her spear. The tip weaved drunkenly before her for a moment before she firmed up her grip. She couldn't see anything in front of her but a few banks of snow and one or two scraggly trees that had been spared the fiery fate of their brethren. In a louder voice, the soldier called out "Who goes there! Identify yourself!"

There was no reply.

Nothing but silence answered her challenge for the longest of time.

Then there came another sob, choked off as if whoever was crying was trying very hard to stay quiet despite their pain and grief. Whoever was making that sound, they sounded weak, as if they were fading by the moment. Was there perhaps some wounded pony out there, lost and afraid? Maybe some soldier that had survived the Candy Mare's slaughter, but was now too frightened or hurt to seek help? The carnage that had greeted Sugar Plum and the rest of the Royal Guard's arrival had been more than enough to turn her stomach, so it wasn't hard to imagine either being the case if there was somepony out there that had lived through that grizzly fate.

Despite any apprehensions she might have, it was Sugar Plum's duty to investigate.

"Stay where you are, help is on the way!" she called in a clear and confident voice, hoping it would help calm whoever it was that was alone in the dark.

Gathering up her cloak around her more tightly, the soldier left her post and followed the faint sounds of distress deeper into the night. Sugar Plum hadn't gone far, however, before she began to feel doubt nagging at the back of her mind.

What if what she was hearing was just some animal out here, calling to a mate? She'd heard that some big cats could sound like a woman screaming or a baby crying, and it was unwise to track such sounds through the wilds where it was so easy to lose your way.

Having grown up on a farm, she also knew other stories that were told to little ponies to keep them from wondering too far afield in the wee hours between dusk and dawn. Stories about mysterious lights, headless ponies, and monsters that could blend in with the very rocks and trees so that you wouldn't know the danger you were in until you were practically on top of them!

Sugar Plum stopped dead in her tracks as she remembered the stories that concerned the very target of this operation. She was fortunate not to have grown up with those blood curdling tales about the Candy Mare, but those in her unit who had that misfortune all said the same thing about her. The candied cannibal was a fiend made of treats who delighted in playing tricks on those lost or alone.

More than one of her fellows had told tales of unfortunate wanderers being lured out to lonely places only to return to find their houses emptied, the beds that their children had occupied still warm from where their sleeping bodies had lain, though the sheets were now dripping red with fresh blood.

As awful as those implications were, those that told such stories still counted the poor soles who had lost their children as being fortunate, for they had at least lived to tell the tale. After all there were other just as sad stories that were told in schoolyards and orphanages of parents following the sound of singing, or the voice of an old friend, into the night and never returning home at all. It raised a very important question at this moment in time. Exactly how many ponies, just like Sugar Plum, had been lured by some noise or another into the dark never to be heard from again?

How many of them had known the Candy Mare was around before they did?

"Oh horseapples..."

The weight of Sugar Plum's spear suddenly didn't feel so reassuring as it had a moment ago.

She wasn't that far from camp yet, was she? If Sugar Plum turned back now, surely she could make it back to her post with little more than a short trot.

But she could no long hear the sounds of activity from the encampment or even the steady rhythm of pegasi wing-beats that had been coming from high above. As she stood perfectly still, everything around her was so quiet she could almost hear the snow settling under her hooves. It was then she realized that the crying that she had been following had also faded away to silence. Instead, just on the edge of her hearing she thought she could hear a single whispered word...

"...Hungry..."

In a flash Sugar Plum turned to flee, but it was too late!

Just as she turned that something wrapped tight around her limbs, and she knew she'd well and truly screwed up! Her spear was knocked away from her and fell into broken pieces!

Before she could even cry out for help, something thick and sticky clamped tight over her mouth, leaving nothing to escape but a terrified moan. Sugar Plum struggled to free herself from the invisible force that gripped her, but she instead found herself lifted bodily into the air and dragged backwards through the wilderness at high speed! It all happened so fast there wasn't even time to form any sort of rational thought, only instinct and blind animal fear surged through her mind as her hooves scrabbled for purchase in the snow, grabbing vainly at rocks and roots as they whizzed by too fast to hold onto.

She did not struggle for long, however, as she felt herself come to a sudden stop. She hadn't been taken far, although now the glow of the distant camp seemed miles away. As Sugar Plum had reached her apparent destination she was lifted off the ground and dangled upside down, all four limbs stretched out painfully as far as they would go. It wasn't that painful yet, no, but the fearful soldier had a feeling that could change at any moment... Yet it was the smell that grabbed her attention.

It was both appetizing and revolting at the same time.

The air reeked of overripe fruit, burnt caramel, and something far less wholesome that was rotting underneath. The stink of old death hid itself poorly beneath the cloying aroma. The thick burnt stench of spoiled meat and sugar was all pervasive like a thick oily substance that clung to the back of her throat and made her gag. Sugar Plum wondered why she hadn't managed to catch the scent before, but then realized that was because the source had been down wind of her the whole time. Her captor had been clever enough to make sure of that before springing her trap. They were beneath a thick grove of trees that were heavily laden with snow, forming a natural canopy that hid them from even the light of the distant stars above as well as the line of sight of anyone that might help the unfortunate soldier.

It didn't take long for the kidnapped sentry's vision to adjust to the deeper darkness beneath the trees, but when her eyes focused on who was under here with her she wished that they hadn't. Staring up at her was the most grotesque visage she had ever seen. Saying that the thing was pony-like would have been accurate in only the loosest sense. It's hungry eyes were wide and glowing with an unearthly inner light that swirled with palpable madness, hatred, and pain. It ran an ugly black and orange striped tongue over sharp candy corn fangs and seemed to only barely restrain itself from taking a huge bite out of Sugar Plum's face.

The broken shafts of a few arrows poked out of the monsters body here and there, along with a spear head that still jutted from her chest, but that was not the worst of the damage. Half of the things body was charred black, and the rotting stench that filled the air clearly emanated from the pale and lifeless flesh that moldered beneath that peeling outer layers. Half of its skull was exposed and grinned constantly while the other side of the things horrible face grimaced in an unhappy scowl.

At least Sugar Plum could finally see what had grabbed her and now held her limbs. Long red and black licorice that grew like thick locks of hair from the monstrosities ruined head held her limbs fast in a grip like iron. A few stranded were even tied about Sugar Plum's muzzle, which is what had silenced her and kept her from screaming, though those at least did not clamp down quiet so tightly. It seemed the Candy Mare wanted Sugar Plum's mouth intact, and that realization horrified her even more than the monsters mutilated form. The young soldier involuntarily filled her lungs and let loose muffled screams of terror over and over, unable to stop the panic that welled up inside her.

For her part, the Candy Mare only tilted her head to one side, smirking at the Royal Guard's reaction. It appeared that the monster hadn't escaped their ambush entirely unscathed, but the pain she had suffered seemed to have only further fueled her madness and rage. Half fried to a crisp by Celestia's magic as she was, The Candy Mare seemed unperturbed by her own decrepit form. Even as Sugar Plum stared in wide eyed horror at the half charred corpse, she could see that the monsters candy coating was slowly oozing back over the shriveled carcass that made up her core.

The Candy Mare was healing, albeit slowly.

"I normally take my time with things like this," The Candy Mare's voice was thick and wet with half melted candy, but no less terrifying. "But as you can see I am in no state to beat around the bush. So we'll keep things simple. We're going to have a little talk, just us girls. I am going to ask you questions and you are going to give me answers."

"If you lie, you die," whispered a tiny mouth that opened in the abominations throat.

"If you scream, you die, heheh!" giggled another mouth that opened on the ghoul's shoulder.

"And if I don't like your answers, well...hahaha!" guffawed a huge mouth that split open in the horrific things chest, exposing rows of shark like candy corn teeth and a trio of long black and orange tongues.

"You get the idea," finished the Candy Mare with her normal mouth, if you considered the one on her face to be the 'normal' one. "Now I'm going to let you speak. Remember, no screaming. It's not like they'd make it here in time to save you, even if they managed to hear you. Nod if you understand."

Sugar Plum nodded, tears streaming down her upside down face.

"Good girl," replied the Candy Mare, removing the tendrils that were wrapped around her captives face. "Now, what exactly was that tall, white, gangly thing that broke my poor little toy soldiers?"