Note: Please read the entire story before being judgmental.
Allow me to tell you about myself. I never knew who my real parents are, since I am adopted. However, the ones I live with are my real family. It was a moderately big family in one household, with plenty of family members nearby.
The oldest in my family was Granny Smith. I never called her my grandmother, so I just called her Smith. It felt kind of awkward calling her that, but she never seemed to mind. She was such a kind, old mare. She treated me like I was one of her own and not some adopted annoyance. She always was kind and never got angry. She also always fed me; I occasionally told her to stop, that I could feed myself, but she continued to give me food. I guess she didn’t want to break her habits, and I guess I couldn’t snap her out of it.
Another one in my family was Big Macintosh, Big Mac for short. He was such a kind, yet tough stallion. He was mostly silent, but had an extremely large heart, and was quite buff. I felt like he was a father to me, though I know he was my brother. He interacted with me the least in my family, but I could tell that he loved me and was my friend, and that he would have never abandoned me and let me die. However, he was exactly like a father, and he was a bit harsh to me until I learned to do my ‘business’ correctly. But, I didn’t blame him.
The third of my family was Applejack. She was my best friend, and was like my big sister. She gave me the most time to be kind to me, and was nearly always by my side. She would have never abandoned me, ever. We worked hard together; we did farmwork, like helping round up the cattle and everything. We spent time together even when we were not working, also. We loved each other so much, and were as close as family can be. She also liked to rub my back when I was laying down, which were possibly the best things ever. I don’t know why she did it, but they were nice.
Last was Apple Bloom; she was just a little filly when I was adopted. She was such a kind little filly, though a bit too addicted to trying to get her cutie mark. I slept in the same room as her, since I could have pretty much slept wherever I wanted. Though I wasn’t not as close to her as I was Applejack, we were still best friends, and she was so sweet. She was my little sister, and I felt like I had to be her protector sometimes.
Everything turned to hell on that one Thursday night. It was a common night, no different from the others. A bit dark, with a new moon high in the sky. The soothing lights of the small stars were the only things to light up the night sky. It was really dark, but it had a... nice feel to it.
Apple Bloom was out “Cutie Mark Crusading,” or whatever she calls it. She got home a bit late, and Applejack scolded her a little bit, “You shouldn’t be out this late! There’s who-knows-what out there at this time, and you could’ve been hurt!”
“Sorry...” Apple Bloom said quietly and went upstairs to her room.
“You didn’t have to be so mean to her like that...” I silently growled under my breath.
“I don’t need your backsass,” Applejack called out, looking at me. I whimpered silently and walked upstairs, to Apple Bloom’s room; the door was open slightly. I creaked the door open slightly and jumped up onto the bed to sit next to her.
“Don’t worry about me,” Apple Bloom told me. “It’s all right.”
“Well, okay, I guess,” I said nearly silently. Apple Bloom patted me on the head and laid down to go to sleep. I went on the bed to go to sleep with her.
I awoke hours later from a loud sound coming from downstairs. Apple Bloom and I both jumped up from this. It sounded extremely loud, like somepony kicked the entire door down. Was that it? Why would somepony come into our house like this so late at night? I’m not even sure if Big Mac was strong enough to kick the door like that.
I jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to see what had happened. It seemed like the entire family woke up from this, though I was the only one brave enough to go downstairs.
I got to the ground floor and I saw a stallion in our home. He was a very tall stallion, taller than Big Mac. His coat was light, but how the light was right there, it made him seem like he was covered in black. His face was dirty, though I could see the coat was regularly the same color as the rest of him. He had green eyes; bright green. They were beautiful eyes, but the face they were on made them be soulless.
I ran up to him and started barking at him, “Who are you? Why are in our house?” He was nearly twice my size, but that didn’t stop me.
He kicked me onto the ground and said, “Get away, you filthy mutt,” and walked away, upstairs. The kick didn’t truly hurt physically, but it hurt mentally, in a way. I was trying to force myself off the ground, but I couldn’t get myself up.
I heard screaming, yelling, cutting, silence. Three times. All extremely loud, all enough to shatter my sensitive eardrums. Stronger than ever, I made myself get up and ran upstairs; the evil being was walking towards Apple Bloom’s room. I knew it was no use, so I went to go check on the others in my family. They were all in the upstairs hall, all spread apart. I walked up to Big Macintosh’s corpse. His throat was cut open; I could see the bones of his neck. Blood spewed out all over his already-red coat down to his chest. His body was still warm, but I could feel it get colder every second. I could feel the last bit of his life draining away. I felt sick.
I walked over to the dead body of Granny Smith. The poor old mare got knifed right in her chest; the blade was long enough that I could see some of her internal organs. I felt so sorry for her and the way she went out. I could feel her life draining away, too. I felt worse than before.
I walked over to the dead body of Applejack, the last one to die so far. She got stabbed in the neck like Big Mac, but it was a bit higher up, and the knife was still stuck in there. I couldn’t see inside of her, but there was blood dripping down the blade. The entire blade was covered in red, from the other deaths. I could smell the death in the air. I couldn’t take this anymore. I threw up onto the ground. This was horrible. Why would anypony do this to such an innocent family?
But, then I realized something: if the knife was still in the body of Applejack, then what was the evil being doing to Apple Bloom? Did he have a different way of killing her? Did he have another knife? I didn’t let myself ponder and rushed into Apple Bloom’s room.
The stallion, shall I call it that got Apple Bloom; he grabbed her by her front hoof with rope. When I came in, he was already walking out of the room, dragging the little filly behind him. He walked downstairs, and I walked behind him, staring into the eyes of Apple Bloom. She was crying, but she wasn’t struggling, knowing it was no use. It was as if her eyes were telling me that everything was going to be alright.
But it wasn’t. It never will be.
He got to the front door. He open it I stared at him, whimpering, saying quietly, “Why? Why did you do this? Why did you do this to everypony but me?”
He looked down at me and acquired an evil, demonic grin. He patted me on the head and said, “Good girl.” He laughed in the most wicked way possible. I wasn’t sure if I should have been mad, sad, or some other emotion. I was just confused right then.
He walked out the door carrying the filly behind him. He slammed the door closed in front of me, leaving me stuck in the house, alone, with the dead bodies of my family upstairs.
I looked at the door. I could not do anything. I was whimpering, trying to cry, but I couldn’t, not now. I would chase after that thing in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t. He’s out there, doing who-knows-what to that poor little filly. And I am stuck in here. I looked at my paws.
Why can’t I open doors?
Author's Note
Guess who the murderer is.
Guess who the protagonist is.
Thanks to Lazy Dan for proofreading!
This is based off of a 3spooky and 3edgy creepypasta of the same name! Read it here!
