The Cutie Mark Cadavers

by Clue Tzes

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Sad
Length: 5171

The Cutie Mark Crusaders end the search for their Cutie Marks, just not how they thought they would.

Three fillies encounter danger and death following a day at play. Now, through the bonds of friendship, they try their best to fight their tormentor. Will they live, or will they continue to search for their Cutie Makrs in death? Find out in the prequel to Dresses, The Cutie Mark Cadavers (which if you read Dresses first, you know how it turns out X) )

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-06 12:40:01 UTC

The Cutie Mark Cadavers

***A prequel to my recent fic Dresses… This one, unlike Dresses focuses less on gore and more on the shared emotions of three close filly friends as they fight for their lives… Prepare to feel emotion in this one my friends and readers…

The Cutie Mark Cadavers

By: Clue Tzes***

“Hey Scoot, pass the ball over here!” Sweetie Belle called out to her filly pegasus friend.

“Hold your horses,” Scootaloo said back.

The filly unicorn laughed at Scoot’s remark, her pink and light-purple mane dirty from the keep away they’d been playing.

“Aw, come on you two!” Applebloom called out, “Ah ain’t got the ball once!”

Scootaloo smirked at the filly earth pony, “Well, duh,” she said, “That’s the point of keep away!” she threw the purple ball to Sweetie.

Applebloom stopped in her tracks, “Oh yeah, that’s right!” she giggled and began trying to get the ball once more.

Sweetie knocked the ball into the air with her hoof and head-butted it towards Scootaloo; her horn puncturing a small hole into it. The ball went a little over half-way to Scoot before landing on the ground, deflated. Applebloom ran over and picked the ball up in her teeth, jumping and laughing with excitement.

“Ah got it! Ah got it girls!” she cheered.

“Yeah, but somepony decided to hit it with their horn,” Scootaloo said gruffly, glaring at Sweetie, “So I guess we can’t play anymore.”

“Well maybe if somepony else hadn’t hit it so hard with her orange hooves…” Sweetie said while walking towards Scootaloo, their eyes locked in the glare.

Scoot walked towards Sweetie Belle as well, pressing her forehead to Sweetie’s as she kept the glare; her purple eyes still locked with Sweetie’s green eyes.

“You got a problem with an orange somepony?” Scootaloo whispered coarsely.

“Maybe I do; what are you gonna do about it?” Sweetie asked with a prideful smirk.

Scootaloo dove at Sweetie, tackling her to the ground. Applebloom dove in, joining their scuffle. The three fillies rolled around in the dirt, tugging at one another’s manes and attempting to hit each other. They did this for about five minutes before suddenly being pulled apart by a purple, magical aura.

“Twilight!” Applebloom yelled at the purple unicorn holding them apart, “What are ya doin’?”

“Stopping you three from killing one another!” she scolded back.

“Well, let us down!” Scootaloo demanded, still suspended in the air.

Twilight let Scootaloo fall to the ground, gently setting the other two down. Scootaloo grumbled as she lie there in the dirt, shaking her head and rubbing her sore hooves. The other two sat there, shamefully looking away from Twilight Sparkle.

“W-we’re really sorry Twi’,” Applebloom told her, being the first, other than Scoot’s mumbling, to speak.

“Y-yeah, it’s just… our ball got punctured on my horn and it… kinda deflated,” Sweetie explained.

“The anger just sorta took over and made us crazy,” Scootaloo’s word made Twilight flinch slightly, “You know?”

Twilight looked at the three and spoke softly, “Don’t worry girls; I’m always here to help if you ever need it!”

They looked at one another and laughed, causing Twilight to stare back at them with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Girls, let me tell you this,” Twilight said, slightly threateningly; her tone wiping the smile off of the fillies’ faces, “If I see anypony showing off any signs of crazy, I won’t hesitate to fix them myself. My magic is more than powerful enough to endure I will never fail.” The Cutie Mark Crusaders now looked fearful.

Scootaloo looked at her friends, “W-well Crusaders, about time we went to go get our Cutie Marks… right?”

The others nodded quickly in agreement, “Y-yeah,” Sweetie agreed, “There’s something w-we should get from my room… in m-my sister’s house… with the door locked and not open to certain ponies…”

Twilight laughed softly and began heading towards the library, “Have fun you three, I have business to attend to…”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were already gone when she looked back. Sweetie ran quickly to Rarity’s, Applebloom and Scootaloo close behind her. They quickly ran in and shut the door behind them, falling to the floor panting as they caught their breath.

“Think she was serious?” Applebloom asked.

“Nah, that’s what all grown-ups do; they love being killjoys,” Scootaloo told her.

Sweetie ignored them and glanced around for her sister, “Rarity?” she called out.

No answer came back; the lower floor of the boutique was lit but the dressmaker was missing. They sat there, looking around for any sign of her presence. Finally, one of them broke the eerie silence that surrounded them.

“S-so what do we do now?” Scootaloo asked aloud.

Sweetie’s stomach replied with a soft grumble, “Well, if either of you two are hungry, we could get some snacks.”

“Yeah, runnin’ from Twi’ got me hungry, how about you Scoot?” Applebloom asked.

“Sure, why not,” Scootaloo said, walking towards the kitchen.

“I’ll cook!” Sweetie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face.

“NO!” Scootaloo and Applebloom yelled, terrified expressions coming from both of their faces.

“A-ah mean, ah’m not hungry actually,” Applebloom explained quickly.

“Me either,” Scootaloo agreed, “Let’s just go try to get our Cutie Marks for now, snacks can wait a little while.”

“Oh! Sounds fun,” Sweetie said, believing the lies.

Scoot sighed in relief. “So, er, what should we do now Crusaders?”

They sat there for a good ten minutes, trying to think when they heard a thump come from upstairs.

“W-what was that?” Scootaloo whispered.

“It might jus’ be Rarity,” Applebloom offered as an explanation.

“Let’s go see!” Sweetie said, walking quickly to the stairs.

All three of them walked silently, trying to keep the stairs from creaking beneath their hooves. Every time they heard one creak, they froze, counted to ten, and continued. Upon making it to the top, they breathed sighs of relief, what they believed was the most grueling part of their day was now over.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Detectives!” Sweetie Belle yelled softly.

“What would our Cutie Marks even be? Magnifying glasses?” Scootaloo asked.

“Ah’d hope so; shoot, it could even be a question mark!” Applebloom whispered, “Wouldn’t that be mystifyin’?”

Scootaloo hit her hoof to her forehead while Sweetie giggled quietly, “Come on you two, let’s get busy searching for whatever we heard!”

“Where do we start then? You know this house best Sweetie,” Scootaloo said.

“Well…” she began pointing down the hallway at each of the doors, starting with the one closest to them, “There’s the main bathroom, Rarity’s room, a room for storing some of my sister’s supplies, a room full of her sofas and lastly a door that opens into a wall.”

The other two watched the way the doors went as Sweetie spoke. They looked left, right, left, right, left, left; they sat there curiously as they took in the home’s layout.

“Uh, where does she sew?” Applebloom asked.

“I-I’ve never asked her… nor have I thought about it…” Sweetie replied, stunned slightly but now pondering, “Maybe d-downstairs?”

“What’s with the last door?” Scoot asked the still stunned Sweetie Belle.

“Oh, we had to expand the sofa room!” she replied, smiling brightly.

Scootaloo began to head-butt the wall slowly in disbelief while the others could only gaze in confusion.

“C’mon Scoot, you can do that later! We’ve got Cutie Marks to get!” Applebloom reprimanded, tugging on Scootaloo’s tail.

“Fine, let’s start in the bathroom and work our way towards the end; sound good Crusaders?” Scootaloo asked.

“Let’s get goin’ girls!” Applebloom cheered, approaching the bathroom.

Suddenly the thud came again from what they knew was Rarity’s room. They exchanged looks of bewilderment and silently agreed to start there instead. Sweetie nudged the door open slowly and turned on the light, the dark fleeing the room fast. As they looked around, they realized that despite how much she lived for beauty and cleanliness, her room said otherwise.

The corners were dusty, the shades uneven and blankets and clothes were tossed about. Otherwise the room, with it’s soft purple walls and hard white floor, looked clean, other than a few hoofprints leasing to the bedroom’s bathroom. Scootaloo walked towards the bed, where Rarity’s diary poked out from under a pillow, while Applebloom teetered nervously near the hoofprints.

“G-girls!” Sweetie Belle whispered, “We shouldn’t be in here! My sister would kill me if she knew!”

“Oh loosen up Sweetie! It’s not like we can mess the place up more!” Scootaloo snickered.

“Hey Sweetie, what’s this here red stuff?” Applebloom inquired, pointing at the hoofprints.

“I don’t know! Just get out of there!”

Applebloom got a little on her hoof and tasted it; her eyes widened as her mouth contorted in disbelief, “B-blood?!?!?! Sweetie! Get over here now!”

Both Sweetie and Scootaloo ran to her side, looking at the floor. They exchanged glances and nodded before dipping their hooves in the liquid too. They tasted it nearly simultaneously; the bitter, sticky liquid causing their stomachs to turn over. Scootaloo gagged, barely managing to keep what was already in her stomach still there. Sweetie Belle staggered back to the doorway, silently speaking to herself.

“It’s not blood… it’s not blood…” she whispered, her sanity draining fast. “G-girls… l-let’s go p-please…”

Applebloom nodded and slowly walked over, leaving Scootaloo behind.

“C’mon Scoot, let’s get outta here,” Applebloom called back to her friend.

“No…” she replied, “We’re not done here yet,” Scoot slowly walked over to Rarity’s bed and pulled the diary from under the pillow. She set it on the ground, opened it to the most recent entry and began reading aloud:

Spa Day with Fluttershy! I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time… My latest project upstairs has graciously volunteered to help me work the kinks out of my table-based holding contraption. It’s a little loose, but odds are it’s stable enough to hold until I’ve returned. Luckily Sweetie’s out with friends all day so I can leave my room a tad messy without worry, Time to leave!

“Upstairs?” Applebloom asked, “Isn’t there only the one staircase?”

“Yeah… maybe she was downstairs when she wrote it?” Sweetie answered.

Another thud from above answered them. There was something upstairs making a lot of noise. They looked at one another and put the diary back, and then they slowly stepped back into the hall and waited.

“Ok Crusaders, time to decide: leave now and forget this ever happened and hope Rarity doesn’t find out? Or do we solve this now?” Scootaloo asked.

“Either way is fine with me,” Applebloom replied.

“Please, can’t we just go see Twilight instead…? This is ten times worse!” Sweetie pleaded with minor humor.

A loud crash that shook the house, followed by a blood-curdling cry, came from upstairs; the girls clung together shivering. Suddenly, in the following eerie silence, a small creak came from the end of the hall opposite them. Scootaloo was the first that dared to look.

“S-Sweetie…” she choked out, “I found the… upstairs.”

The other two followed Scoot’s gaze to the end of the hall where a rectangular panel in the ceiling hung open part of the way.

“Girls… WE! ARE! LEAVING! NOW!” Sweetie Belle screamed at her two friends.

Applebloom quickly nodded in agreement but Scootaloo shook her head furiously, “No! Buck it all, no!” The other two flinched slightly and backed away from Scootaloo slowly. “Listen to me, both of you. We are the Cutie Mark CRUSADERS, not chickens. We all heard someone scream, there’s blood in Rarity’s room, and something feels wrong! It’s time we picked ourselves up, grew up, and found out what’s going on. We will NEVER get our Cutie Marks if we keep quitting things or getting scared. It’s time we saw things through to the end, starting with this!”

They listened and watched as Scootaloo passionately gave her speech. Bravery irradiating from her and pouring into the other two, readying them to discover what may rest above. The fear now wiped off their faces; they stood confidently and let Scootaloo finish speaking.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle cheered, “Come on girls! There are some chairs downstairs we could use to climb up there.”

She ran downstairs to grab them; Scootaloo began to follow her but stopped and looked back at Applebloom, “You coming?”

“B-but Scoot, what if somethin’ goes wrong… a-and we don’t come back?” A tear rolled down Applebloom’s cheek slowly as she worried.

“Applebloom,” Scoot said, wiping away the tear, “I swear to you on the Cutie Marks we’re going to get one day… we will live… trust me…” She hugged Applebloom tightly and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek to reassure her everything would be fine.

“Thank ya Scoot,” she said quietly as she hugged back, “It means so much… ya don’t even know…”

Scootaloo released the hug, her own eyes now watering as she tried to speak calmly, “Anything for one of my two best friends… Now how about we go get those chairs?”

Scootaloo led the way down and Applebloom followed closely; Sweetie was already pushing a fourth chair to the stairs when they got there. She was about to ask what had taken them so long when she noticed the whites of Applebloom’s eyes were slightly red; she was sure she understood why and kept silent. They began taking the chairs up, each keeping quiet until all six were in a pyramid formation.

“How do we do this?” Sweetie asked.

“Well, we climb the chairs and lift one of us up to open it… simple enough,” Scootaloo explained.

“Ok! Help me lift Scootaloo, Sweetie?” Applebloom asked.

“Sure!”

The first two began their ascent, the chair pyramid wobbling gently underneath them. When they’d made it to the top, Scootaloo came next. Sweetie and Apple lifted her on their backs and she stood, getting a grip on the panel as the chairymid gave out beneath them Scootaloo fell, Applebloom and Sweetie already down, and opened the panel as she did. When it opened, a staircase slid out, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

“Owww…” Scootaloo grumbled, “What happened?!”

Sweetie struggled to her feet and helped Applebloom out of the mess of chairs, “It just gave out, thank Luna you got it open though…”

They looked at the stairs descending from the hidden attic, each of them waiting for the other to go first. Finally, Scootaloo took a step towards the wooden stairs.

“L-let’s go girls,” she gulped and began walking up the stairs

Applebloom followed, then Sweetie Belle. When they all hit the top, they stopped; not a single light was on and dusk was approaching fast. Scootaloo began blindly walking around, following the wall until she bumped into a standing object. She felt around it, finally finding a switch and hitting it.

The light came on quick, but not too bright; only enough to illuminate the immediate area. Scootaloo stood, only able to gape in horror at what she saw. A table with blood, textured like dried blood mixed with some like the hoofprints, stood right in front of her. On the ground was a pony cuffed into what looked like the table’s frame if it had been detached; Scoot assumed this was what the diary had talked about.

What stood out most about the contraption was the base; it was cracked, it’s other jagged half still stuck out of the center of the table. Scootaloo could only assume the pony had worked the frame free and had moved it the best he could to his current position; where would he have gone though? Scootaloo looked at the captive for the first time, going to ask her question; her jaw dropped.

The blue-coated, yellow-mane pony in front of her was dead. He had a blood-stained bowtie ad an hourglass Cutie Mark that was distorted by a pair of scissors dug into his flank. His body, the front at least, had various scalpels, scissors, and knives dug into it; fresh blood was flowing from all of his wounds. His eyes were wide in terror and his mouth still wide-open since his final breath of life had been released in the scream they heard. A toppled cart to his left told Scoot what had happened; she stood, only able to stare silently.

“Hey Scoot, what’d ya find?” Applebloom asked, walking over. “S-Sweetie Belle! Get over here!”

“Oh what is it now?” she asked, trotting over.

All three could only stare, terrified, at the body, “Girls… run…” Scootaloo barely managed to whisper.

They slowly backed away to the stairs, still facing the deceased pony. The second they hit the first step, they ran. They dashed around the heap of chairs and began quickly descending the stairs.

“We’ve got to get to the cops!” Sweetie explained.

“Or run away… she’ll never forgive us if she finds out we found out her secret and went to the cops with it!” Scootaloo said.

They were approaching the door quickly, ready to escape into the night.

“So close,” Applebloom whispered, “Almost free girls! Maybe mah sis could help when we get outta here.”

The door opened and Rarity walked into the boutique. The Cutie Mark Crusaders froze in place, looks of astonishment overpowering their fear; Rarity took one look at their expressions and, along with the red spot on Sweetie’s hoof, knew where they’d been.

“Oh girls… Such a shame to have to say this to you three… but,” Rarity’s horn glowed with her magical aura as she lifted the three fillies into the air and suspended them there, “Looks like we’ll be making you three some fabulous dresses.”

The look on Rarity’s face had gone dark; her pupils were dilated in pure blood-lust, a wicked smile formed on her lips as she walked into the kitchen.

“Now girls…” she began, rummaging through inside one of the cabinets, “Once I clean up, I’ll be able to start on your outfits.” She trotted back to the floating fillies now with a liquid-filled dropper in her mouth.

Applebloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle tried to keep their mouths shut, but the magic overpowered them, allowing Rarity to feed them each an equal amount. Scootaloo felt groggy the second the cold drink slid down her throat. As she and her friends fell to the floor, she began fighting the urge to black out. She saw Applebloom and Sweetie already out cold.

Scootaloo sighed in her mind as her vision kept clouding and clearing. She pretended she was asleep, cracking her eyes barely open; she wanted to stay awake but not get caught in the process. She watched, drifting in and out of sleep as Rarity lifted them up and took them back to the attic. Scootaloo and the other two were thrown onto the attic floor hard; Scoot fell unconscious due to the impact.

Rarity tossed the three fillies down hard in her rage. How they found out about this place, she would never know. She looked over to the table where her current captive should’ve been, but saw neither him nor the holding device. She walked over, worried he’d escaped; her fear faded when she saw the desecrated corpse. Plucking a scalpel from his chest, she licked the blade; his taste was different from other ponies… She removed the rest of the tools and looked over the body and mane; deciding it was useless and unsalvageable even by magic, she put him in a trash bag and walked him outside to a dumpster. As she threw him in, she almost swore she saw the bag glowing; she shook her head and shivered, the night air was getting to her head.

After cleaning up the chairs, she ascended back into the attic. Resealing the cracked holding frame and reinforcing it with an extra sealant spell; she examined the leather straps that would hold the victim. None of them were in good condition; she’d have to jury-rig them with some extra rope. She set to work on her repairs, the CMC still unconscious…

Scootaloo slowly opened her eyes a few hours later; her first sight was that of Applebloom and Sweetie Belle in front of her, both of them easing awake as they stood.

“Oh girls!” Rarity exclaimed from somewhere behind them, “How delightful to see you all awake! Now I can begin fitting you…” she chuckled lightly.

The three snapped wide-awake as Rarity held them in place with her magic.

“Let… us… go…” Scootaloo growled, attempting to break the hold on her.

“But why? Where’s the fun in that?” Plus, this way you can’t move while I’m measuring you…” Rarity replied, a psychotic look slowly dawning on her white face.

Rarity grabbed a roll of measuring tape from her supplies and walked over to Scootaloo. Taking an end in each hoof, she wrapped it once around Scootaloo’s neck and tugged hard. Scootaloo’s windpipe ached slightly, but she wasn’t about to let her tormentor get the satisfaction of causing her pain; so she kept a strong gaze, locking with Rarity’s. Rarity wrapped it once more and pulled on both ends again. Scootaloo struggled to breathe, her eyes now watering as she kept glaring. Rarity did a third loop around the filly’s throat and pulled with all her might. That’s when she finally snapped; Scootaloo’s throat constricted completely, her windpipe collapsing as she broke out, gasping and wheezing for air. Rarity watched the purple eyes roll into the back of her head, grinning deviously as the chokes and sputters came.

Sweetie and Applebloom watched, horrified, and unable to speak out against the torment of their dear friend. They adored her bravery though, hoping to come anywhere close to matching it if they were faced with their own one-on-one with Rarity, the dressmaking demon. As Scoot’s face turned purple and the last wisps of life left her face, Sweetie Belle whispered aloud.

“…Stop…” she whispered, looking away.

Rarity stopped, astonished, and released bother her hold on the measuring tape and the magical hold on the three fillies. Scootaloo fell to the ground, clawing the tape from her throat as she gasped in large amounts of air. Applebloom rushed to Scoot’s side, helping her breathe as Rarity approached Sweetie Belle.

“My own sister, my shared flesh and blood, dares to tell me what to do?” she got in Sweetie’s face, gripping her turned face by the chin and forcing eye contact, “After I allow you to stay in my home when you want; I allow you to hang out with your little friends and run all willy-nilly over town; I fix your food and complement your ATROCIOUS cooking,” Sweetie flinched, the last one hitting her hard and adding another tear to the already tear-streaked face, “You speak out against what I do as my job? What right in all of Equestria do you have to do as such?!?!” Rarity fumed in rage, her face a solid shade of red.

“They’re my friends, and…” she sniffed, mustering the courage to speak,” After seeing all of this… YOU’RE NO SISTER OF MINE!!!!”

Rarity flinched softly, still glaring at the exhausted filly, “No sister of yours? Haha! Then I won’t have any trouble taking care of you first!”

Sweetie was suddenly lifted into the air and watched as she was taken to the table frame. She felt her body forced into an X-position and could only watch as Rarity leapt onto the table and tied her hooves tightly with the rope. Applebloom was massaging a red ring that had formed on Scoot’s neck from the tape; some bruising and cuts were apparent.

“I-I’m fine Applebloom… I promise,” Scoot whispered weakly.

Rarity’s gaze snapped over to the other two fillies, “Get away from her this instant!”

“B-but she’s mah friend… and friends help each other no matter what,” Applebloom pleaded.

“Are you daft you backwards hick? I said move this instant!” Rarity approached Applebloom, leaving Sweetie in the holding frame.

Applebloom merely shook her head again, “No! She’s mah friend! No matter what you say or call me, ah’ll stay by her side you bully!”

“Applebloom… don’t,” Scootaloo warned, “She’s not worth it…”

“But Scoot, you promised we’d live… and you nev-” her words were cut off by a scarf wrapping over her muzzle and around her hooves, tying itself tightly. Scoot knew what Applebloom was going to say and felt awful that even though Applebloom believed she never breaks promises, this was one she might have to.

Rarity dragged Applebloom a few feet away before lifting her with her hooves and throwing her into a corner, “Friendship is overrated…” she said aloud, snickering.

Scootaloo watched her bound friend slam hard into the ground; fury, guilt and fear filled her as she saw Rarity make her way to the scared, wrapped-up pony that could only shiver, breathing furiously out of her nostrils as she tried to fight the scarf.

Applebloom was ready to stop fighting and just give in when suddenly they caught her eye. Numerous cadavers impaled on stands, as if they were mannequins, were near her in the dark; as close as she was to them, they were still hard for her to clearly see. Draped over each was a dress of what Applebloom assumed was sewn out of the mane and tail each pony lacked.

Applebloom’s eyes widened, terrified, at the realization of the bald, deceased ponies’ fate close to being hers as well. She fought twice as hard, thrashing wildly at her bindings with all she could muster. She gave up as Rarity’s evil gaze came into her sight, draining the last bits of hope she had left. In her heart, she forgave Scootaloo for breaking her final promise as the warm tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

Rarity looked down at Applebloom and spoke in the worst accent she could manage in order to mock the bound filly, “Ah no! Mah friends! Help me! Oh Scoot, yah promised!” She laughed wildly as Applebloom silently cried. “Oh? Did that hurt your feelings? Allow me to compensate physically!”

Rarity kicked Applebloom as hard as she could in the stomach; all that came from her were muffled sobs and tears. Rarity lost all care for preservation as the rage took her over. Scootaloo, tears streaming down her face as pure terror filled her, yelled at Rarity once more.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” she shrieked.

Rarity spun, locking eyes with Scootaloo, “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. Stop all of this; we did nothing to you! Leave us alone! Just let us go and stop all of the torment you… you bitch!” Scootaloo breathed heavily now.

Rarity didn’t think twice about her next move; all Scootaloo knew was that she was suddenly being flung into the wall repeatedly. Her muzzle broke first, pouring blood, as two of her hooves followed suit. Lastly, Rarity used her magic to fling Scootaloo into Sweetie Belle with enough force to snap Sweetie’s spine, paralyzing her, and to take down the table frame once more. Sweetie’s loud scream cracked through the attic as her spine did the same. They fell together, the rubble falling onto them as well. Rarity tossed Applebloom onto the table as well, the scarf now unwrapped from her.

The three fillies huddled together, Scootaloo and Applebloom holding Sweetie Belle. They cried slowly; Sweetie, being paralyzed from the neck down, did her best to vent her fear, sadness and pain with her best friends.

Scootaloo looked at Applebloom and whispered, “I’m sorry I lied…”

Applebloom looked back at Scootaloo and smiled softly, her bow falling apart, ripped and torn from her time in the attic, “At least… we’ll die together… Scoot…”

Sweetie Belle looked at them both, “I’m sorry I brought us here…”

Scootaloo looked over at Sweetie Belle, “And I’m sorry I pushed us to investigate this so badly… this was entirely my fault…”

Applebloom hugged them both tightly, “No more regrets friends…”

As the three cried and apologized, Rarity brought out three sharp, bright-silver mannequin stands; the top of each was jagged and deadly. She gazed over at the three sobbing fillies, enjoying the sight of the suffering she had induced onto them. She separated them, lifting all three into the air with her magic. She walked around them, examining their bruised, bloody, broken and jagged bodies.

“This won’t do at all!” she whispered to herself, her horn now glowing brighter.

The three fillies watched their bodies take on the appearance of what they were before they began, along with a new pose similar to that of Rarity’s other mannequins, plastic and cadaver. The blood now gone and the bruises faded, they looked like new. Everything still hurt and was broken though, Sweetie was even still paralyzed. It had only looked as if she’d fixed them; she hadn’t truly repaired their bodies though.

“Do you have any last words girls?” Rarity asked, floating them above their respective stands where they would be for as long as fate would allow it.

They looked at one another and nodded, Sweetie struggling painfully to make the gesture back at her friends.

Scootaloo began, crying softly as she sung, “We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders…”

Then Sweetie Belle joined in, “On a quest to find out who we are…”

Lastly Applebloom, “And we will never stop the journey…”

Finally, in one last loud line, pure friendship flowing between all three of them as they sung out, their deaths now imminent and premature, “NOT UNTIL WE GET OUR CUTIE MARKS!”

A tear slid down Rarity’s cheek as the final line was sung; then she let go of them, watching them fall and get impaled on their poles. Their faces contorted in horror as Rarity used a spell to preserve their bodies, freezing them in time, neither dead nor alive. Another tear fell from Rarity’s eyes as she turned towards the stairs, unable to watch the blood missed by the spell slide halfway down the pole before stopping to dry, staining the new metal. Turning out the light, she descended the stairs and sealed the attic, leaving the Cutie Mark Cadavers behind.

Going down to the kitchen, she opened the fridge and gasped. In the very front was a plate with a single piece of burnt toast on it, alongside a note. It read:

I left before breakfast, but I still managed to find the time to make food for the best sister in the world anyways!

Love Always,

Sweetie Belle

Rarity picked it up and thought the dresses for the Cutie Mark Cadavers could wait a day; she needed to be prepared to report Sweetie missing tomorrow. Applejack, along with Scootaloo’s parents, would probably report their respective family members as well once they found out no one knew where they were. She walked over to the trashcan, looking over the note one more time before spitting into it and crumpling it into a ball, throwing it and the toast into the trashcan; Sweetie was dead to her.

End The Cutie Mark Cadavers