The sound of tinkling glass played from the front deck of the clubhouse as a soft breeze swept through the orchard. Apple Bloom laid her chin on the window sill, watching the swaying windchime and listening to the accompanying hush of rustling leaves as it swelled in the tree branches above. The dappled sunlight waned and waxed on the ground and though she couldn't see the sky, she imagined an armada of fluffy white clouds sailing by overhead. Winona barked in the distance as she chased a squirrel across the drive.
Though her older siblings still toiled somewhere outside, all her chores were done for the day. She was free to just laze around for the rest of the weekend without a care in the world.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle laid on old floor pillows, reading comics while the little battery operated radio played smooth jazz imported all the way from the outskirts of the big city. The signal was always better on the farm than in town. KZAB was one of only three reliable stations in range, the other two being country music. The three fillies didn't start out particularly fond of jazz but they could at least all mildly agree on it. Over time though, they had actually developed a mutual affinity for the genre; they recognized songs and knew all ths DJs, even the late night ones from listening at up all night sleepovers in the clubhouse.
Sweetie levitated an open bag of chips over her head with her magic. Then she dumped what remained of it, straight in her mouth, crunching it noisily between her teeth. She tossed the bag on the floor in the trash pile that had finally grown large enough to bother Apple Bloom, the aftermath of the Saturday night sleepover.
"Don't do that right next to my ear, Sweetie," grumbled Scootaloo, flipping a page. "Sounds gross."
"Sorry," mumbled Sweetie Belle through a wad of wet chip crumbs.
There came an excited scratching at the door, jarring Apple Bloom from her Sunday afternoon reveries. She allowed Winona to scamper inside with jingling collar. The dog went over to her dish to lap up some water. She sniffed around Scootaloo's face, eliciting a giggle from her before returning to the door to be let out again.
"Fine," muttered Apple Bloom before pulling the door open with her mouth. She shut it once more and glanced out the window through the fluttering curtains. The weather was changing. She could feel it. Winona pranced down the long ramp back to the ground.
Scootaloo moved with her book from the pillow to a milk crate seat at the table. She wrenched the top off of a bottle of room temperature soda, letting the cap and key clatter to the tabletop. Then she took a big messy swig before climbing back into her story.
The song ended and the mellow, honey-coated voice of the DJ stallion came over the radio. "Here's a bit of breaking news for you, listeners. A significant unscheduled storm system has broken through the weather blockade and is moving easterly toward the Canterlot area. There is no word at this time on how the storm slipped through but if you're in the neighborhood, be prepared for a little surprise shower. We'll be back with more relaxing tunes to chase away the Sunday scaries after these messages."
"Huh… that's weird," murmured Scootaloo. "I don't think I remember that ever happening before."
"What?" asked Sweetie Belle absently.
Scootaloo turned her head to look back at her. "Unscheduled rain," she shrugged.
"Yeah, me either, now that I think about it."
"That sounds fun," began Apple Bloom, sitting down at the table. "Ah love rain, 'specially when it's a surprise. It's borin' if it's controlled all the time." She helped herself to her second soda of the day.
"But then we can't play outside," whined Sweetie Belle.
"We ain't playin' outside. We're layin' around inside, readin' an' eatin' junk food. Nothin' better than readin' next to a window on a rainy day."
"You sound like Granny Smith," chortled Scootaloo.
"Maybe but deep down, y'all agree with me."
"I can still think of better things," argued Scootaloo, "but it's up there."
"Rain makes me sad," added Sweetie Belle. "Especially at the end of the weekend."
"But we got everythin' we need right here to have a great time, a roof to keep us dry, candy 'n' snacks, books 'n' games an' each other.
Apple Bloom smiled contentedly when she heard the pattering of water drops on the thin clubhouse roof. It joined the symphony of rustling leaves and the tinkling glass wind chime.
"Still don't wanna walk home in it," grumbled Sweetie Belle.
"Ya can borrow mah jacket an' umbrella from the house if ya want." Apple Bloom lifted the bottle to her mouth, feeling a fizzy tingle on her lips. Room temperature soda always felt like it had more fizz. "Let's play a game before y'all leave," she suggested. She got off of her milk crate and wandered over to peruse the little bookshelf and the modest collection of battered board games.
The clubhouse had a host of furnishings and features, most of them defunct or repurposed things from the Apple's home. The table was an industrial sized spool for hosing. The curtains were cloth scraps from Carousel Boutique.
"After I'm done reading this," agreed Scootaloo.
Apple Bloom finished her soda, leaving the empty bottle on the table. She returned to the window and whiffed the air dreamily, taking in the intoxicating aroma from the arriving storm. Slowly the raindrops grew fatter and more copious and she got lost watching the unvarnished decking transform from speckled to dark brown.
Sweetie Belle tossed her book on a stack of other rumpled comics. Then she got up from the pillows to stretch, moaning as her neck popped.
The meandering croon of the saxophone was suddenly shattered by a blaring alarm. It groaned painfully in regular intervals, demanding attention. The three turned to the radio, surprised by the jarring interruption of their relaxed vibe.
The alarm halted, replaced with a scratchy clinical address from an unknown stallion. "This is an emergency broadcast for the Ponyville and surrounding areas. A shelter in place order is in effect. Seek dry shelter from the rain storm immediately. Do not leave safety to aid loved ones. I repeat: Seek shelter and avoid contact with the rain at all costs. Do not leave shelter to aid anyone. Weather teams have been dispatched to scatter the storm. More information will be provided as this situation develops. Stay tuned."
The broadcast cut out abruptly. The music did not come back; there was only silence as the three fillies stared at the device in disbelief.
"What?" breathed Scootaloo. "What does that even mean?" She looked between her two friends who appeared just as bewildered as she felt.
"We just… hafta stay here till it's safe, Ah guess," murmured Apple Bloom, still staring at the radio.
"Safe? What's the danger? I don't get it."
"He said don't even touch the rain," explained Apple Bloom.
"But why?"
"Ah don't know but we all heard it. It was a real emergency broadcast; we should listen."
"Yeah," nodded Sweetie Belle, absently.
Scootaloo scratched her head frustratedly. "But it's a school night; I have to go home soon."
"Might not even be school tomorrow now," argued Apple Bloom.
Scootaloo shook her head. "So do we just stay in the clubhouse till the rain stops? We can't even go back to the house?"
"Yeah. It's kinda a walk." Apple Bloom's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Mah family's outside." She galloped to the wall, anxiety welling within her. She gazed out of the window that faced the farmhouse but could only see trees in a dismal, gray downpour. The clubhouse was secluded from everything. It was far from the house and the barn. It was far from where Applejack and Big Mac were working and of course, it was far from town. They weren't just trapped themselves, they were cut off from any assistance whatsoever, not even in earshot of anything but a sea of apple trees.
"Maybe they went inside?" suggested Sweetie Belle.
"Maybe but they probably still don't even know about the emergency yet," fretted Apple Bloom. "We can't even tell 'em. We can't leave the clubhouse. What if they come to get us?"
"Relax, it just looks like regular rain," continued Scootaloo skeptically. She sidled up to Apple Bloom to examine the weather for herself. "I mean, how dangerous could it actually be?" She stuck a foreleg through the window, past the protection of the eve where she could feel a few cool drops on her hoof. "And they probably wouldn't just stay outside working in it."
"Scootaloo," gasped Apple Bloom with worry.
The pegasus pulled her leg back in and shrugged dismissively. "I just don't see what the emergency is. It's not like it's a flash flood."
"Maybe it's acid rain?" offered Sweetie Belle.
"Well there's somethin' weird about it if it got all the way here and it wasn't sposda."
"That's true," agreed Sweetie Belle, rubbing her chin.
Apple Bloom's eyes suddenly snapped to the front door with another anxious realization. "Winona's out there too," she muttered to herself, hurrying to the entrance. She yanked open the door and stood there, a cautious distance back from the opening. The rain's white noise grew louder, filling the room. The three fillies craned their necks as they gazed down to the base of the ramp and the patchy grass that surrounded it.
"Winona," she called desperately into the storm. The wind had lessened but the rain was coming down in sheets, softening the mostly bare earth of the orchard floor. "Winona!"
The three waited with skeptical trepidation. Without a sound, the little dog came into view from behind a tree and Apple Bloom's heart leapt. She quickly shifted to excitedly trying to coax the animal back indoors. Her relief was short-lived as Winona's strange behavior told her immediately that something was wrong. Winona never looked toward Apple Bloom even as she stamped her hoof on the wood. She walked slowly with a shaky gait before stopping stationary in her tracks. The dog began to shudder and seize.
"Something's wrong," cried Sweetie Belle.
Apple Bloom's mouth dropped open as she watched her pet struggling, a quivering whine escaping her muzzle. The drawn out vocalization changed to a higher pitch, almost like a scream and suddenly, even several paces away in the soft roar of raindrops, they could hear what could only be the sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone.
Winona shuddered violently as her mouth opened wider and wider until it passed its natural range of motion with an audible pop. It kept opening until her bottom jaw rested against the bottom of her throat and her teeth were splayed out in an array like an open bear trap. A duo of long red tongues sprouted from her mouth where they lashed frenetically. Her eyes began to inflate, bulging out of their sockets. The fur and skin began peeling away and sloughing from the tip of her tail, leaving exposed sinew on bone as it moved toward the base. Her spine undulated like a caterpillar as it arched higher and higher, the individual vertebrae becoming more pronounced before erupting through the flesh. The whole body stretched, writhed and rippled as it continued to metamorphosize into some inconceivable nightmare.
It was when the right eye finally burst that Scootaloo, the only one to retain her presence of mind, slammed the door shut and drew the curtains closed.
"Wha- wha- what was that?" trembled Sweetie, pointing a hoof at the door.
Apple Bloom stood in wordless faraway shock, unable to latch onto a single articulate thought.
With one eye, Scootaloo peeked out between the curtains to see the last bits of skin shake loose from Winona's stinger-like tail. The dog's head spasmed. She let out a hoarse wail before skittering off into the orchard.
"That's what the rain does?" panted Scootaloo shakily with eyes wide.
"You touched the rain too," gasped Sweetie Belle in horror.
The pegasus whirled back around to face her. "Y-yeah a little bit, but nothing happened," she blurted. "I feel fine! Why didn't they explain that on the radio?"
"How do you even explain that?" asked Sweetie Belle. "I've never heard of anything like this."
Apple Bloom let out a scream as her senses finally caught up with her and she collapsed on the floor in a hysterical mess.
Scootaloo spared her a glance before rushing to the table. "Let's check the other stations," she suggested. "Maybe they have more info." She began scrolling the dial through the usual wasteland of garbled static. "Ugh, where is it? Apple Bloom, isn't the Whip on 102.4?"
Apple Bloom was still wailing, unresponsive on the floor with Sweetie Belle trying to console her.
"It's not here at all," muttered Scootaloo. "It's just fuzz." Panicked and frustrated, she began scrolling lower, all the way to 98.1. At last, a twangy steel guitar crackled through the speaker, the only sign of civilization beyond the clubhouse at the moment. Now that she thought about it, the Whip broadcasted from west of Ponyville. It was probably already an hour into the storm where they were and it must have knocked them out one way or another.
Apple Bloom struggled to her hooves, choking back violent sobs. Sweetie Belle kept a comforting foreleg around her withers.
"What are we going to do?" asked Sweetie, on the verge of tears herself.
Scootaloo hung her head despondently over the table as the old country song played. "We only have one option," she sighed. - - -
Apple Bloom sat across from Scootaloo at the table, tapping her hoof anxiously on the floor but the sound was nearly lost in the pounding rain. She watched the slow dripping from the ceiling in the corner of the clubhouse. It made a small puddle that slithered away through the gap in the floorboards before it could grow any bigger than a hoof. That spot always leaked in the rain. Should they do something about that, she wondered. What could they do about it? It didn't seem fixable without risking careless exposure to the water. They could put a bucket under it but then what would they do with the bucket when it filled? Eventually she decided it was best to just leave it alone and stay clear of the area.
She closed her eyes in bitter lament. If only they'd had just five minutes warning, things would be completely different. They'd be inside a spacious, weatherproofed house with food and water where they could ride out the storm in relative comfort with Winona while under the guidance and protection of adults. Probably still couldn't save the livestock though. She couldn't stop thinking about her family. There was still a spark of hope inside her but the more she thought about it, the slimmer the odds looked. Not knowing was torture and there was so much they didn't know.
Light was fading. It was early evening now and the storm had settled into a constant hearty thrum punctuated with roars of thunder. Apple Bloom looked down at the nest of disheveled sleeping bags and granola bar wrappers. There was no question they'd be spending another night in the clubhouse.
"It- it's just a bad dream," murmured Sweetie Belle, shivering deeper into the beanbag chair. "It has to be. I'm still asleep in the clubhouse on a Saturday night and everything will be normal when I wake up."
"Maybe we should play some games," mumbled Scootaloo absently, staring into the wall.
"How can you even think about playing games right now?" spat Sweetie Belle.
Scootaloo pivoted in her chair to face her. "Well whadda you wanna do?" she shot back irately. "Keep worrying about stuff we have no control over like when's the rain gonna stop or if any of our friends and family will survive? Cuz that's so much better!"
Sweetie Belle buried her face in her hooves and began to sob.
A flash of light flooded the room and thunder boomed just overhead as if voicing its own displeasure. They could feel the rumble and sense the electricity prickling every little hair on their bodies.
Scootaloo turned back around and crossed her forelegs defensively as she eyed the bookshelf for something new to distract her anguished mind.
Just then, the cry of the emergency broadcast system blared through the radio again. Scootaloo nearly pounced on the device, rolling up the volume wheel and worsening the awful noise.
"This is an emergency alert for Canterlot and regions west of Canterlot. The rogue rain storm appears to have stalled and is holding its position just southwest of the capital city. The princesses are fine at this time. However, it is strongly advised that all creatures in the affected area stay indoors and avoid any and all contact with the rain or rain water from the rogue storm. Even small amounts of exposure are reported to cause violent changes in the body as well as unsound or rabid temperament."
The other two fillies looked at Scootaloo somberly.
"I'm fine," her voice cracked. "It was only like three drops. They don't even know." She hid her face from them, fighting back tears.
"'Course yer fine," nodded Apple Bloom. "Somethin' woulda happened by now. Don't ya think?"
Scootaloo said nothing, keeping her lips mashed together in a straight line.
"Weather teams have been dispatched to the scene. All residents are ordered to remain sheltered until further notice. Stay tuned for more information as the situation develops."
There was an awkward silence before the regular programing picked up in mid song. Scootaloo turned the volume back down. The message did little to shed light or improve morale.
"If the weather teams could do anything, they would have done it by now," said Sweetie Belle glumly.
"And he said the storm parked on top of us," added Apple Bloom. "So much fer waitin' it out."
"If it doesn't move, it'll just run out of water and break up at some point," argued Sweetie.
Scootaloo laid her face flat on the table in silent despair.
"Um… does anyone else have to use the bathroom?" pondered Sweetie Belle.
"Yes," admitted Apple Bloom.
"What do we do?"
Apple Bloom sighed as she looked around the room for an answer. Ugh, there's the bucket, she thought. Guess that's how they used to do it. Then her eyes fell on the handle for the seldom used hatch in the floor. "We'll just use the trapdoor," she replied.
"What about privacy?"
"Ah dunno," shrugged Apple Bloom. "Move the bookcase in front of it." - - -
Night was falling. They took stock of the food but held off on creating a daily ration regimen. It just seemed silly at this point. Inside, they all held hope that such measures would be unnecessary, that tomorrow morning they'd wake up and see the light at the end of the tunnel.
There was a sixpack of orange soda, two apples, seven granola bars and half of a jumbo tub of cheese puffs. They agreed to each eat half a granola bar, five cheese puffs and all share a single bottle of soda before sleep. It didn't feel like enough.
The sun's light vanished but the rain remained. Although it lessened, never once did it pause. It was cold in the clubhouse and everyone got into their sleeping bags, still hungry and thirsting from missing dinner. They turned off the radio to save the batteries and make it easier to sleep. In the dark, they opted to use the flashlights sparingly over the little kerosene lamp which would have lit the whole room. It seemed advisable to conserve fuel and matches first though none of them could come up with a reason as to why, other than fire generally had more uses than a battery flashlight. - - -
They awoke at first light to a sobering reality; it was still raining. Apple Bloom slid the curtain aside and looked out the window to find large swaths of standing water as far as she could see. What if it flooded, she began to worry. Being raised several feet above the ground in a tree, the clubhouse might do alright as long as the tree stayed upright.
Scootaloo shivered at the table as she turned on the radio to try to catch more emergency info.
"You are not going to tell me we lost this station too," she muttered, fiddling with the dial.
Sweetie Belle unzipped her sleeping bag to find a few pieces of stale popcorn inside from two nights ago. Her stomach was aching with hunger and it was all but certain that the snack supply would be regulated in short order. Without further consideration, she scooped the lost popcorn into her mouth.
"Got it," sighed Scootaloo, settling back on her crate as the soft tinny sounds of some country ballad began to flow from the speaker.
"Can't believe they're still playing music. Aren't they in the affected area? Should just be constantly playing emergency info."
Sweetie Belle listlessly joined her at the table and gasped abruptly when she made eye contact with Scootaloo. "Scootaloo, your-" She cut her words short, afraid to finish the sentence, afraid of what it meant and what Scootaloo would say.
"Yer eyes are real bloodshot," supplied Apple Bloom, looking in curiously from behind Sweetie.
Scootaloo grunted and rubbed her eyes bemusedly as if the issue were just an itch. "Probably because I didn't sleep well," she argued.
'Bloodshot' was almost a dismissive term. Her sclera were nearly solid red. The two didn't buy the explanation for a second.
"I didn't sleep well either," added Sweetie a little more flatly than she'd intended.
"What are you trying to say?" bristled Scootaloo.
"Um… nothing. I just didn't sleep well either." She surreptitiously exchanged concerned glances with Apple Bloom. "You can't see it but they're really red."
Scootaloo grumbled something under her breath.
"Do you… feel-"
"I feel fine," she snapped. "Except I'm super hungry and upset that it's still raining."
"Well, let's figure out the food situation, Ah guess," suggested Apple Bloom, both wanting to diffuse the tension and clueless as to how they should address Scootaloo's worrisome condition.
They gathered around the food pile which just two days ago seemed so gargantuan when it was for a one night sleepover for three. Why did they have to eat so much during the party? They were just eating for fun and now, as a consequence, they were going to have to survive on much smaller portions if they wanted to stretch it for who knew how long.
They decided that a third of a granola bar, a third of a soda judiciously measured into a bottle and five cheese puffs would be one day's ration for one pony. It was up to each pony to decide when and how much they ate of it and when they were out, they were out till next morning.
"Why don't we just give everyone a full bar and full soda and fifteen puffs and say it's for three days?" whined Sweetie Belle.
"Because we probably don't all have the self control ta do it in big chunks like that," explained Apple Bloom. "What if someone eats all their three days worth on the first day? We'll just give it out once every day an' hide the rest under a blanket in the corner where we pretend it doesn't exist."
Sweetie Belle groaned as she received her square and her puffs.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle scarfed down their granola squares in an instant while Apple Bloom nibbled away at hers, trying to trick her brain into thinking it was more. The food would keep them alive and functioning but do little to mitigate their parched tongues and the pain in their stomachs.
The song ended and the DJ came on, heralded by a news jingle. The girls froze to listen.
"I have an update here on the mysterious biohazardous storm causing chaos and destruction. The system is still hovering southwest of Canterlot, shedding continuous precipitation. Affected creatures are still under a shelter in place order and are strongly advised not to touch the rain or rain water. According to reports, bodily contact with even a single drop could spur irrevocable changes in the body of any-"
The radio clicked off as Scootaloo quickly rolled the volume dial all the way down. "Well, no point in listening to this one," she blurted. "It's basically the same stuff we already heard. Should save the batteries." She took a deep, shaky breath through her nose and out again as she sat motionless with eyes transfixed on the table.
"They don't know everythin' about how this all works yet," began Apple Bloom meekly.
Scootaloo slammed her hoof on the table, shaking the little radio. "Can we not talk about this anymore? Can we play a game or something?"
Sweetie desperately wanted a private chat with Apple Bloom about all this but it would be impossible inside the one room clubhouse, spacious as it was. Her piercing, wide-eyed look would have to suffice.
"Sure," agreed Apple Bloom, her eyes on Sweetie's. "You in, Sweetie Belle?" she asked, with an exaggerating nod.
"Okay," answered Sweetie, trying to mask the fact that her heart still wasn't in it, though she suspected, neither were theirs. - - -
The three played one round of each of the four games they had on hoof. For the most part, it did help keep their minds off of hunger and even the possibility of their loved ones being imperiled but it was mentally exhausting and when they came back to reality, the rain was still there.
Scootaloo leaned back from the table and rubbed her eyes. "I'm tired of this. Let's go outside in the rain."
The other two looked at her confusedly.
"I- I mean… let's go do something else," she corrected with a flustered air. "Why did I say that?"
Apple Bloom looked out the front window to find that they were now surrounded by a sea of shallow muddy water, rippling but directionless. The only land still above water was a trail of little earthen ridges formed by the wagon ruts on the road. They'd be gone soon enough. Another disquieting thought occurred to her. Even if it stopped raining right now, how long would it take before it was safe to walk to the house without boots?
They read more comics, paced the room and just layed on the floor pillows or slumped over the table. Apple Bloom got back in her sleeping bag, closed her eyes and let a cheese puff melt to mush in her mouth.
"I wonder what time it is," mused Sweetie Belle, turning the radio back on but keeping the volume low. Her eyes flicked to the back window where the light was becoming softer again and the darkness creeping into the clubhouse. They'd spent an entire day in their little tree fort.
Outside, the downpour had subsided to the slowest pace any of them could remember.
Scootaloo sat rocking back and forth in the corner with her head between her hooves as if she were listening to an agonizing game seven sportscast.
"Scootaloo?" called Apple Bloom in worry.
"Fine," blurted Scootaloo, her head snapping up to meet her gaze. "I- I mean the rain. Something… Ugh. You should go- You should go outside." She laughed nervously as if embarrassed, then swallowed. "I'm sorry. That was…" Her completely red eyes fell to the floor as she struggled with her thoughts.
Sweetie and Apple Bloom looked to one another again but this time with profound sadness.
Apple Bloom glanced back as Scootaloo to make sure she was still lost in her own head before beckoning Sweetie to the table. She turned up the music and spoke low behind a hoof meant to look like she was propping her head up on the table.
"What are we gonna do 'bout her? She's gettin' worse."
"I know. She keeps telling us to go out in the rain. What if she… changes. I don't feel safe."
"It's one room and we can't just kick her outta the clubhouse; then she'd turn fer sure. No one's ever seen this kinda thing before. We don't know fer certain what'll happen ta her. We just hafta watch closely an' be ready fer anythin'."
Sweetie Belle shifted back in her seat with a sigh. Well, that's great, she thought. This was just the same inconclusive conversation that they'd both already had independently in their own heads. But at least they were on the same page.
The sun went down and the rain picked up again.
Sweetie and Scootaloo had nothing left but a few drops of flat orange soda. Apple Bloom ate her last cheese puff, followed by the remainder of her soda. She let the empty bottle roll away across the floor before she wriggled into her sleeping bag. She stared up at the ceiling as the last of the soft indigo light vanished from the room. She'd never been cut off from adult intervention for this long, especially not in such a perilous situation. With the way things were going, it was difficult to remain hopeful.
Scootaloo's sleeping bag swished as she shifted restlessly, softly jibbering a stream of nonsense to herself, at least Apple Bloom assumed it was nonsense. It was certainly unintelligible when mixed with the rain. Sweetie Belle scooted up so close to Apple Bloom that they were all but occupying the same egg crate pad. They did not zip their bags shut and kept the electric lights close at hoof.
They laid there in the same state for what felt like hours. Between Scootaloo's struggling, the sound of the rain and the fear of everything in between, their brains wouldn't allow them to rest.
Finally, Scootaloo's muttering subsided as if she'd finally fallen asleep which came as a modicum of relief to the other two. Even with everything else, exhaustion soon overtook them. - - -
Apple Bloom's eyes cracked open in a pitch black clubhouse. It was still pouring rain outside. Still in the sleeping bag, she could feel her hind legs inexplicably elevated while the ridges of old floorboards scrolled under her back, almost as if she was being dragged somewhere. This sudden realization sent a shot of adrenaline through her system that cut through her grogginess in an instant.
She sat up and clicked on the headlamp that hung by a strap from her neck. The blinding beam illuminated half of the room in a harsh glare. There before her was a startled Scootaloo. She shrank away from the brightness, dropping the end of the sleeping bag from her teeth.
Heart pounding, Apple Bloom rolled from her bag and scrambled to her hooves. "Scootaloo, what are you-" her eyes landed on the open front door just inches behind the pegasus and she knew the answer to her unfinished question. Then she caught sight of the wall where multicolored crayon scribbles, unrecognizable symbols and bizarre looking math equations were scrawled from floor to ceiling. She glanced to her left, then the right to see that the whole clubhouse was covered in the gibberish.
"Sweetie Belle," she shouted, backing away.
Scootaloo visored her eyes with one hoof. Her pupils were all but lost entirely in a glossy sea of blood red. "Y- you have to see this, it's amazing," she blathered breathlessly. "Come out in the rain with me. There's not much time left." She began stepping forward.
"Stay back," quivered Apple Bloom. "You're crazy!" Her hind leg bumped into an empty soda bottle, sending it clinking across the floor.
"The rain's dangerous," cried Sweetie Belle. "Look what it did to you.
Scootaloo looked up at the ceiling with an expression of delirious awe. "You won't- you won't understand until you touch it. Everything makes sense now, everything."
When she looked back down at them, a wild tremor surged through her body. Her head wrenched a half turn with a crack. Apple Bloom covered her mouth with a gasp of horror at her now upsidedown face. Her wings fluttered and began to grow longer but not larger. They dangled limply toward the floor like pasta from an extruder.
"Look into the clouds." Her final syllables devolved into a rasping gurgle as a braid of fast growing vines poured from her mouth and ears. No, they were naked veins, snaking out, encasing her head and spreading down her neck to her body. Scootaloo lurched toward them. Her eyes squirmed in their sockets before erupting with a pair of equally red tentacles. They slithered out with a sickening squelch and stretched outward in a deliberately horizontal reach, searching for the two fillies.
Sweetie Belle screamed.
"Open the trapdoor," Apple Bloom commanded, splitting away from her.
Sweetie staggered backward in wordless terror as Scootaloo advanced on her.
"Sweetie Belle, the trapdoor," shouted Apple Bloom, desperately.
Sweetie hazarded a glance down to see the outline of the hatch beneath her hooves. She sprang back and flung it open with a spark from her magic.
On cue, Apple Bloom charged in from behind and shoved the monstrosity with all her strength. Alternate Scootaloo went sprawling headlong across the floor. She tumbled into the hole and disappeared with a ragged hiss. Sweetie didn't wait for the splash to stomp the door shut with both forelegs.
"The front door," gasped Apple Bloom, running over to the bookcase. She hooked it with one hoof and began pulling it toward the door. "Help me."
Still reeling from everything that had happened and was still unfolding, Sweetie Belle threw her wait behind the load and together they scooted the bookcase in front of the door.
"The windows," cried Sweetie Belle with a huff. Apple Bloom looked around the room before deciding that the lectern was tall enough to obstruct most of a window. She dragged it over to the front while Sweetie Belle stacked two milk crates in front of the rear.
Apple Bloom switched off her light. "We gotta watch all the windows," she whispered.
Fighting the instinct to flee and hide in their sleeping bags, the two settled in near their improvised fortifications.
There was only one way up to the clubhouse from the ground, the long, winding ramp that attached to the deck which encircled the shelter. If they could just somehow detach the ramp, they'd be a veritable citadel but at the moment it just seemed like wishful thinking. With any luck, they now stood over a raging river that had already swept Scootaloo far away.
They sat against opposing walls, quivering in fear and listening through the rain for any signs of the monster or its activities.
Sweetie Belle choked on her sobs as she tried to remain as quiet as possible.
They stayed on the floor, waiting there for any signs of a threat until terror gave way to exhaustion.
Sweetie Belle opened her eyes to find herself slumped over on her side against the wall with her cheek to the floor. The ache in her empty stomach was the first thing she noticed. Across the room, shrouded in the dinginess of their shuttered clubhouse, was Apple Bloom still asleep in a similar position. Suddenly she saw a glint in the little bit of unobstructed light from the front window. A drip from a new leak in the ceiling.
Sweetie gasped and recoiled to her haunches. She scooted away from the little puddle that had formed just inches from her while she slept. She stood up shakily and moved the crates away from the rear window by hoof. Rain was still pattering lightly on the roof and when she rubbed her eyes, she beheld a muddy sea that came up less than her own height from the decking. Judging by the debris it carried, leaves and twigs, It didn't appear to flow; it just stood, smothering the orchard and bubbling on the surface as the relentless rain came down.
She turned around to see Apple Bloom on her hooves, taking down the lectern but leaving the door braced. The walls were absolutely festooned with mad scribblings and geometric ideations, none of which made the slightest bit of sense to either of them. In the corner, Scootaloo had written 'Look into the clouds,' as if it were some well established truism of encouragement.
The two remaining ponies met wordlessly at the table where they surreptitiously checked each other's eyes. They appeared normal.
Sweetie distraughtly covered her face as the crushing weight of their loss finally hit her in full. On top of Scootaloo, they'd almost certainly lost many more friends and family out there and they didn't even know.
Apple Bloom switched the country station on low and then went to the food stockpile.
"Guess our rations can… be a little bigger now."
Sweetie Belle said nothing as Apple Bloom placed the only two apples on the table and doled out ten cheese puffs between them. After she finished measuring out two half sodas, the fillies just sat parallel to each other, stewing in their own dark thoughts.
Apple Bloom sucked on a puff lethargically.
"It has to stop eventually," mumbled Sweetie. "If it doesn't, we'll get washed away long before we can starve or… change."
"Water shouldn't get any higher than this," countered Apple Bloom. "Hasta be floodin' over the tops of the property levees bah now."
"Yeah… unless everything else outside them is flooding just as bad."
That was hard to imagine but so was any of this. If they were inside the big farmhouse and the water kept rising into the front door, they could just go upstairs and then even up to the attic after that. In the clubhouse the water would just come right up through the cracks and they'd be playing the floor is lava on the table and bookshelf. They wouldn't last much longer if it came to that, she suspected. Though it seemed more likely to her that the tree in which their clubhouse sat would simply topple over before that as its roots were undermined by the soil being turned to sludge. As if they needed another thing to be worried about.
The radio broadcast cut out mid-song to return to the even-toned DJ. "Breaking news: The emergency situation is over; everything is now safe."
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged slack jawed glances. How could that be possible? What had happened? They tamped down their reeling brains as they waited on the edge of their seats for elaboration.
"Please exit your shelters and enter the downpour. Look into the clouds. Look into the clouds. Look into the clouds. Look into the-"
Apple Bloom swung her hoof and swatted the little radio clean off of the table. It sailed through the air, slamming into the wall where it clattered to the floor with bent antenna and ruptured speaker. A loose battery spun to a stop against her crate.
She stared at the wreckage with gritted teeth until her anger gave way to a fresh tsunami of despair. She bowed her head and began to sob.
She'd destroyed their only source of information from beyond the clubhouse walls but did it even matter? Regardless of what they knew, they could do nothing to help themselves out of the situation. They just had to wait for the rain to stop and when it stopped, they had to wait for the flooding to recede and when it receded, they had to wait for every drop of moisture to evaporate from the ground. They had to survive long enough for an informed adult to come get them.
The fillies went through their repertoire of board games despite them being less engaging with only two players. When that was over, Apple Bloom paced in circles in the area of the floor where there were no leaks. Sweetie had outlined the little puddles telekinetically with red crayon to help them avoid stepping in any, though she preferred rocking back and forth on her sleeping bag to pacing the room. After spending forty eight hours straight in the little one room house, they were becoming fidgety and stir crazy. They had boundless energy but at the same time they'd never felt so drained, both emotionally and from malnourishment.
Sweetie's leg muscles trembled idly as she read Power Ponies #27 for the third time since their sequestering. In truth, she did not feel like reading anything, but reading a now stale comic book was more preferable to being left alone with her thoughts and the white noise of the rain.
Apple Bloom sipped the last of her soda as she somberly watched the flooded orchard disappear into darkness again.
Although there was no immediate danger besides the water, the two fillies nestled into one another through their sleeping bags for comfort. Once again sleep did not come easily. The rain slowed, in fact it may have even stopped all together. The only thing they could hear was what sounded like the residual dripping of water from the leaves of the trees.
"Is it over?" whispered Sweetie Belle.
Apple Bloom was about to go to the window and check for stars in the sky but the moment she flipped back the top of her bag, she heard a new sound. It was rhythmic. It sounded like sloshing water as if someone was fording across the orchard. It wasn't Scootaloo. She could tell that there was still quite a bit of water on the ground. It had to be someone much larger, someone like… her brother.
Sweetie Belle shivered into Apple Bloom's back as the sound grew louder and louder. They heard a rattling wheeze like labored breathing with a sickness in the lungs and Apple Bloom desperately wished they'd found a way for Sweetie Belle to take the ramp down with her magic.
The splashing was directly beneath them now and the two held their collective breath as whoever it was seemed to mill about, searching for something. What did they do when they turned? Why did they look like that? What was their purpose? Was there anything left of the pony inside or did they just fade away, replaced by some vile rabid instinct. There came a wet hacking before the monster sauntered off in an arbitrary direction to do who knows what. Look into the clouds.
The disturbance thankfully died away into the dripping of the trees but the two remained on edge until they lost consciousness.
By morning, the rain had returned. Sweetie Belle woke up with an uncomfortable clamminess on her face. Dazedly she wiped the moisture from her cheek that she assumed was drool which wasn't uncommon for her. She sat up, flipping open her sleeping bag. Then she glanced down at her navy blue pillow which showed the dark outline of the moisture it had absorbed. Half of the pillow looked soaked. It was quite a lot of-
Her thoughts were shattered as a drip from the ceiling splatted on the wettest part of her pillow. She gasped in horror as she felt the dampness on her face with one hoof. Her breaths became loud and shallow.
"Apple Bloom," she shrieked.
Apple Bloom shot up as the unicorn launched into a hysterical fit.
"It got on me! The water got on me! My eyes! What's happening?"
"Hold on a minute." She looked into her terrified pupils. They were red, not really red, still within the range of normal, pink with red cracks. "They're- they're not that red. Could just be from cryin' or not gettin' enough sleep."
"That's what Scootaloo said!" wailed Sweetie Belle.
"Yeah but… her eyes were redder than yours," argued Apple Bloom, looking for any excuse to be hopeful.
Sweetie pointed to her face. "This is more water than she touched! I'm doomed!" She collapsed in a pile on the floor and began to cry.
Apple Bloom watched her, wanting desperately to comfort her somehow but there was nothing that could be said. She wanted to hug her at least but she couldn't do that either. She was still wet with contaminated water.
"Let's… eat somethin', said Apple Bloom weakly as she approached the stockpile.
Sweetie Belle sniffed. "There's no point for me. There's no reason for me to be in the clubhouse anymore. I'm just going to waste food and attack you like Scootaloo did. I should just leave."
"Please don't go. I don't wanna be here alone."
"We don't have a choice."
"Please just stay a little longer and eat somethin' with me." Her voice cracked as tears began to stream down her face.
Sweetie Belle sat mournfully defeated on a milk crate at the round table while Apple Bloom performed the new morning ritual of dividing the food. It was a sort of perverse way of making breakfast they supposed, a breakfast meant to last you all day.
Apple Bloom pushed half a granola bar, half a soda and five cheese puffs across the worn table. "Eat it all… right now."
Sweetie Belle shook her head. "This is so stupid. What if you need -"
"Just eat it. Ah know ya want it 'cuz Ah want it too."
Sweetie sighed but tossed the full half bar straight in her mouth followed by half the half soda and then all the cheese puffs at once and then the rest of the soda that was unexpectedly very fizzy.
"Feels good, right?" she asked hopefully, eating her food too but much slower.
"I guess."
This was the best they could do under the awful circumstances. Her final hours as a lucid pony and gorging on a hooful of junk food was the closest thing they had to a contented sendoff.
"Um, what do you want to do?" asked Apple Bloom.
"I don't want to be one of those things," whimpered Sweetie Belle. "I'd rather die."
Apple Bloom swallowed, then opened her mouth to say something but closed it before any words could come out. It is what it is. That was the only thing left to say and no one needed to hear it.
She pushed the box of crayons toward her. "Do ya want ta… write a letter ta someone?"
Sweetie Belle thought about it and then nodded her head slowly. She took the stack of blank paper and a blue crayon and began scribbling down her thoughts in a note to her parents. She drew them a picture, then wrote a letter to Rarity, not knowing if she was alive and well, not knowing if Apple Bloom would make it through to deliver it to her, not knowing if somepony might at least come across an empty treehouse one day with a water damaged paper and a drawing of her and Rarity in front of Carousel Boutique.
They didn't play games or read. They didn't pace around. They just colored and talked while the indifferent rain kept coming down outside.
They made it to the evening.
Sometimes now Sweetie Belle would wince or grunt as if frustrated with something. She rubbed her eyes with both hooves. They were definitely redder now. Her whites were gone.
"Eyes are bothering me," she mumbled. "We should go outside and look into the clouds... I mean-." She set down her crayon in finality. "I should go outside. You should stay here."
Apple Bloom looked down at her paper, filled with indecipherable symbols and equations. She sighed. "Ah guess so."
"C'mon," said Sweetie, standing up. "I'm starting to lose it. I have to go before I become a problem."
They slid the bookcase to the side and Sweetie Belle opened the door. She paused, staring over the edge of the deck and down the short walk into the ominous gyre of muddy water.
Apple Bloom placed a cautious hoof on her friend's shaking back as she tried not to choke up.
"Ah don't know what ta say. Ah'll never ferget you. Say hi ta Scootaloo fer me. Ah already miss her."
Sweetie Belle frowned down at the raindrops battering the deck on the border of safety and chaos. She breathed as if winded from a long gallop. "Goodbye," she whispered, almost inaudibly.
Cold water pelted Sweetie Belle's coat as she exited the umbrella of the clubhouse eve and walked down the ramp. Her hooves disappeared into the mire. The water rose around her legs, then her body until it stopped at her neck and lapped at her back. She began to swim away but the change started quickly. She tilted her head back as her horn began to grow out in a corkscrew shape. It made a groaning creak as it extruded from her skull.
Apple Bloom shut the door quickly and shoved the bookcase back in front of it where she collapsed in a quivering ball. She cried on the floor until she fell asleep, completely alone. - - -
In the morning, it was raining. Apple Bloom put three tally marks on the wall for the number of days she remembered being confined to the clubhouse. Then she sat on a milk crate and draped herself over the table. She'd never felt so hopeless in her entire life. Her best friends were gone. Her family was probably gone. All the rain had to do was keep raining and she'd succumb one way or another. Even if she survived, would there be anything left of Ponyville?
It took untold minutes of parched mouth and aching stomach to coax her to act. She looked at her little pile of food. There was only one survivor now; should she adjust the amount of food she could eat in a day, she wondered. She was so hungry but the rain was so… infinite.
Instead of measuring out the food for herself, she just began eating, nibbling away here and there. She still ate slowly but did not keep track of her cheese puff intake and when she drank the soda, it was difficult to stop when there was still more just sitting there in the bottle.
She paced.
She read.
She fidgeted on top of her sleeping bag and on every piece of furniture in the room. Time and existence were so empty and cold and suddenly she found that she craved sound. Conversation. Music. Her friends were gone. The radio was gone. It was just her and the rain now, the mind-numbing drone of the pattering overhead and the dripping in the endless expanse of water around her. The sound smothered everything and dulled the senses. She used to find it romantic but now it was just an oppressive roar, wearing on her sanity.
An eternity of nothingness passed and the sun went down again. - - -
Apple Bloom was either right about the levees or the rain was pausing during the night while she slept because the water wasn't getting any higher. She stared out of the window, trying to see through the trees and fog, trying to see beyond the orchard, trying to see anything at all. It was of course all in vain.
She turned back and beheld the trashed clubhouse, the wrappers and empty bottles on the floor, the scattered papers, the overturned bookcase, the smashed radio, Sweetie Belle's sleeping bag wrapped around her contaminated pillow stuffed in the corner and of course the scribbles on every wall.
Her eyes followed the swirls and angles of the enigmatic script. If she got infected, she wouldn't be able to check her own eyes but maybe the writing on the wall would inexplicably begin to make sense and that would be how she knew her struggle was over.
All it took was one drop probably. It could come from anywhere at any time. She could wake up one morning with a wet pillow like Sweetie Belle or the wind could pick up and start blowing rain right through the window.
Apple Bloom read straight through every comic in the room, then she read the nutrition facts on a granola bar wrapper and then a soda bottle and then the giant tub of cheese puffs. - - -
The next morning, Apple Bloom cried in her sleeping bag, then she laughed at the window. It was still raining.
It.
Was.
Still.
Raining.
She read out loud to herself just to hear the sound of someone speaking. The sound of rain was worse than silence. She sang to herself every song, every nursery rhyme she could think of until her voice began to die inside her dry throat. - - -
The granola bars were gone and she was on her last soda. When that ran out, the clock would start ticking. What did they say? Three days without water and you're dead? It was hard to imagine making it that long. That number must be for ponies starting out at a hundred percent, she thought. Not ones that were already weak and frail and would drink a whole lake if they had the chance. There was so much water everywhere but she couldn't even touch it.
When she thought about it, she agreed with Sweetie Belle that she'd rather die than be one of those things but it was all becoming so miserable.
Three of the roof leaks had stopped leaking. She guessed that the wood had finally swelled big enough from the water to squeeze them shut.
Apple Bloom stayed in her sleeping bag for most of the day. She was trying to go into a sort of hibernation to conserve energy and, by her reasoning, require less food to survive. She should have been doing this from the beginning but how was she to know what a marathon this would be? - - -
"It's yer turn, Scootaloo," Apple Bloom chided impatiently before moving back to sit in Scootaloo's seat.
"Ah'm still thinkin'," she retorted.
"Yer thinkin' too much. It's just Marenopoly. Either buy it er don't."
"Okay, Ah'll take it fer four hundred." She held out four one hundred bills of play money for herself.
"Why ya givin' it ta me? Sweetie's the bank."
"Oh, yeah."
She got up and sat in Sweetie Belle's seat to receive the money from herself. She hoofed the property tile back.
"Alright, mah turn," she said, snatching up the dice. "Come on doubles!" She dropped them on the board to roll a one and a four. "Awe, shucks! Ah'm never gonna get outta prison!"
"Just like in real life," quipped Apple Bloom with a crazed smirk. She burst into raucous laughter that gradually escalated before spiraling out of control into wild cackling. She fell backwards off of her crate onto a sleeping bag with a dull thud where she continued convulsing in delight.
"It- it'll never stop," she giggled. "We'll never roll doubles! We'll never pass go again!" She bit her lip to try and stifle her laughter but only ended up hissing loudly through her teeth. She kept doing that until her cheeks were sore and her mania had dwindled to a quiver accompanied by a weak wheeze.
"This is why Ah hate playin' Marenopoly with you," sighed Apple Bloom. - - -
Apple Bloom finished the last drop of her last soda and groaned. Now the only thing left to keep her nourished was a hooful of cheese puffs. She crawled back into her sleeping bag and laid almost catatonic, staring at the ceiling. Everything in her body hurt and she felt lightheaded and dizzy. The whole room felt like it was spinning. Eventually, looking at the ceiling was too much strain for her eyes and she closed them. Even so, it still felt like she was riding a rollercoaster.
"Hey, Apple Bloom," came a familiar voice.
Apple Bloom's eyes shot open in surprise. She rolled over and looked quizzically across the floor to the shrine she'd made for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo which consisted of two drawings of their likenesses surrounded by other drawings, paper crafts and empty bottles arranged tastefully.
"Huh?" she mumbled warily, staring at Scootaloo's crayon rendered face.
"No, silly, over here," called Scootaloo's tinny sounding voice.
Bewildered, Apple Bloom stood up slowly and scanned the room.
"Over here."
She squinted down at the floor to see the broken and powerless radio still laying near the wall. "Oh!" She sauntered over and bowed her head to speak to the device. "What are ya doin' on the radio, Scootaloo?"
"Come outside and play with us," prodded Sweetie Belle excitedly.
Apple Bloom scratched her neck in thought as her eyes ping-ponged manically around the room. "Ah can't, it's still rainin'."
"Not anymore. Look outside!"
On cue, a flourish of heavenly birdsong graced her ears. She turned to look at the front window and saw a golden ray of light shining down onto the floor. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Could it be? She'd almost forgotten what sunshine looked like.
"Come on, we're waiting!"
"Yeah, come look into the clouds with us!"
Apple Bloom hurried breathlessly to the door where she wrestled the bookcase out of the way. She twisted the knob with her mouth and flung it wide open. The doorway flooded with brightness. She visored her eyes as they adjusted from the dim interior to the sunny outside. Birds sang, the windchime tinkled in the breeze. The floods were gone and on the ground out in the orchard were her two best friends, waiting with her brother and sister and Granny Smith.
"Come on, Apple Bloom!" They all waved.
She smiled and lifted a hoof to step outside but as she looked down at the decking before her, her eyes landed on a small repulsive creature. Her mouth widened in horror at the animal that was once a squirrel. Its elongated, snake-like neck wriggled and flopped inertly like a fish out of water. Its wretched hairless tail coiled and lashed, the now prehensile appendage feeling for her nearby hoof while the legs propelled it closer.
All at once, the lovely fantasy rotted away, the clouds rolled back in, the flood waters returned and Apple Bloom screamed. She slammed the door and bucked the bookcase back into position with a crash. She dove back into her sleeping bag and hid there where it was hot and hard to breathe. - - -
Apple Bloom swayed unsteadily on her legs as she looked down into Winona's water dish.
"Ya know yer gonna do it so just do it," she mumbled. "The longer ya gawk at it, the more disgustin' it's gonna look." Her eyes settled on something scummy on the surface. Spittle? Dirt? Algae? She sat down on her haunches and scooped it out with her hoof. Then she picked up the dish and brought it to her lips. - - -
Apple Bloom licked the last bit of melted chocolate from the inside of the granola bar wrapper. She let it flutter down to the pile of revisited food wrappers which she'd left sparkling clean.
The cheese puffs were gone.
The dog water was gone.
Everything was gone.
It was still raining.
There was nothing left to do but wait for the end, whichever end came first. - - -
Apple Bloom stared vacantly at the wall. Her stomach hurt. She did not leave bed even to add a tally mark to the day counter. She wasn't sure she could even if she wanted to. - - -
It was in the late evening and the rain had softened. Apple Bloom's eyes drooped, not because it was time to sleep but because she simply had no energy left. That was when she heard it, something big sloshing in the water, just like last time. There came a wet snarl as if the creature was choking or being strangled. Her heart raced as the sound grew louder but she did not move. What came next was a little wooden creak and she knew it had found her.
The creak turned to a groan as the unseen entity plodded onto the front deck. Then it was at the door. Apple Bloom held her breath, shrinking down into her bag as the knob began to rattle, the creature hissing and chittering all the while. She heard the screech of wood on wood when the bookcase slid away with a mighty heave.
It was something big and it was inside.
"What in tarnation?"
Apple Bloom's cover whipped away in an instant, exposing her completely.
"What are ya still doin' out here?" asked her older sister, Applejack with an annoyed huff.
"Just… playin'," shrugged the filly.
"Where are Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?"
"They got infected- Ah mean, they went home."
Applejack crinkled her face, on the verge of ribbing her for playing alone in the clubhouse like a reclusive weirdo. Instead, her eyes did a lap around the room and she grimaced. "Ya need ta clean this place up tomorrow; it's a garbage dump. But right now let's git on back ta the house. It's time fer supper."
"Ah'm not real hungry," grumbled Apple Bloom as she stood up.
"Ya ruined yer appetite with junk food didn't ya," she scolded, setting a hoof down on the telltale wrapper pile.
"Maybe?"
"Well, you can git ta bed early then if ya don't gotta eat supper."
"Aww," groaned the filly.
Applejack cocked her head toward the door. "C'mon. Big storm's sposda start any minute. Don't wanna be caught in the rain."
Author's Note
When your broken radio is trying to convince you to go outside.
When I first started writing this story, I didn't know how it would end. I was certain that what was happening was real and the debate going on in my head was whether there would be one survivor or none. In practice I didn't really like the idea of no survivors because I hate to have a good struggle go in vain. I decided that Apple Bloom would be the final girl and it would end with the storm ending and Applejack coming into the clubhouse to find her withered, delirious sister laying on the floor, waiting for death. It ends there, implying that perhaps all the Apples survived but saying nothing of the origin of the storm or the aftermath in Ponyville. It leaves a lot of open ended questions... like a Junji Ito story.
This story was inspired by a lot of childhood memories of radios, floods and perilous games of pretend like the floor is lava. It was envisioned as a twisted horror parody of slumber parties and playing pretend. At about a third of the way into writing it, it occurred to me, what if in a twist, it was just a game of pretend, just experienced vividly through the minds of the players?
I wavered between those two endings until pretty close to the end. The dilemma was that I loved the twist and how it reframes the characters from powerless victims to a group of really disturbed, dramatic children which is actually... not so uncommon.
Reminds me a lot of this.
The downside is that with that ending, (nothing being real,) it feels like I'm squandering an amazing horror setup and all the buildup I worked to create.
I entertained the thought of writing both endings and putting one as a separate chapter but then what? Readers just choose the one they like best and ignore the other? It seems like a wishy-washy copout. It's not formatted as a choose your own adventure and I don't know about you but I want to be TOLD the story... So I just committed to the twist. Go ahead and let me know how you feel.
If you liked this story, you'd probably also like this story which still stands as my favorite fanfiction I've written.
If you’d like to support this insanity, you can buy one of my novels. They're all under $5.
