The operators of the Cloudsdale cloud machine must have been pulling overtime, as the sky was grey with a cottony blanket of overcast. The dying leaves on every tree were brown and yellow, swaying and swirling like a kaleidoscope of molten gold and bronze. The light Autumn breeze running through Apple Bloom's mane felt pleasant, and it carried with it a sweet scent. It conjured images of pumpkins, costumes, candles and candy; it conjured images of Nightmare Night. Apple Bloom couldn't wait to read her spooky story to her class, for she was sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would not only score an A for her homework assignment, but she'd win Miss Cherilee's annual coveted nightmare night spooky story prize: a freshly woven basket filled with candied apples, and butterscotch caramels, and chocolate oranges, and other delicious delights courtesy of Sugar Cube Corner.

Apple Bloom took a moment to take in the crisp autumn air before she stepped down from the stoop of her house. She continued on down a dirt path, strolled through a canopied tunnel of rustling trees, which ended in a short trail, from which the bustling hamlet of Ponyville could be seen just a quarter mile off. It wasn't long after she had crossed the town border when Scootaloo fell in beside her. Sweetie Belle was the next one to join them, scampering off from the entrance of her sister's boutique to complete their merry little trio. The girls talked and laughed as they usually did until they finally reached their school. Scootaloo was just concluding the synapses of her homework assignment as they traversed the playground. "And then, the zombies come breaking into the cabin, right?" she said. "And then Rainbow Dash grabs the chainsaw and—

"Wait," Apple Bloom interjected. "How's she gonna use a chainsaw with only one hoof?"

"Yeah," Came Sweetie Belle's concurrence. "Didn't you say that she was forced to cut her hoof off when it became possessed?"

"But that's the best part!" Scootaloo insisted. "Rainbow Dash rigs a special harness that allows her to mount the chainsaw to her stump."

"That's gross," said Apple Bloom.

"That's cheesy," added Sweetie Belle.

"It's freakin' groovy is what it is!" Scootaloo insisted. "But hey, don't worry, I'll be sure to share my winnings with you guys. Not Pinkie Pie's peanut butter brownies, though. Those are all mine."

"Oh, we will see about that!" Mocked Diamond Tiara, who had suddenly strode up beside them, Silver Spoon following closely behind. "My daddy hired a whole team of writers to help me come up with the scariest story you'll ever hear in your lives. That basket is mine, and I'm not sharing it with anypony!"

"Except me," Silver Spoon said. "Right, Di?"

The haughty little diva sighed. "I suppose you can have the candy corn and black licorice. I hate that stuff."

"But what if I win?" Silver Spoon wondered. "I could go fifty-fifty with you, if you'd like."

Diamond Tiara answered that with naught but a dismissive scoff.

"You're already acting like you won," Sweetie Belle said under her breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Diamond asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"You gonna tell us what yer story's about?" Apple Bloom had to know. "You sound pretty confident."

"You must think I was born yesterday!" Diamond Tiara flicked her tail. "Don't think I'll let you plagiarize off of me. You'll hear it when you hear it."

"Plagiarize?" Scootaloo laughed derisively. "You didn't even write it!"

"Who cares who wrote it? I'm going to be the one reading it, and that's all that matters."

Apple Bloom was about to fire back, but her attention was suddenly drawn to the strident song of the bell announcing the beginning of the school day. We'll just see who wins that prize, she thought as she and her friends made their way to the school house.

The class room, the children immediately realized as they filed through the door, looked very different than how it usually did. The walls were bathed in the tawny glow of a hundred flickering candles that had been carefully set and lit all about the room. An eerie tune emanated from an old phonograph, like the slowed, distorted chiming of an inverted music box. A bag of popcorn, a bottle of soda, and small, individually wrapped bags of candy were set on each desk for the children to snack on through the day. It would appear that Miss Cheerilee had gone all out for them this time around, which would only further cement her reputation as the coolest freaking teacher to ever exist. She was sat at her desk, the wide black brim of a witches hat obscuring her features. "Children," she said to her students, her voice dark and ominous. "It is Nightmare Night eve, and you—Carrot Crunch, quit picking your nose—and you all know what that means, don't you?"

Apple Bloom indeed knew what that meant. Her entire school day would be spent listening to scary stories written by the students. And so she did. One by one, a child was randomly selected to step forth and regale the others with their eldritch writs that they had put together. Most of them were boring, or ridiculously cliched with predictable and disappointing payoffs. However, there were a few gems that were told that day. Button Mash told his story from a first-person perspective about how he had unknowingly purchased a cursed video game cartridge whose previous owner drowned in a lake. Sweetie Belle's story was about a magical dragon's paw that granted wishes, only in messed up ways. Lilly Longsocks told an especially entertaining tale of a security guard's fight for survival in a pizzeria crawling with bloodthirsty animatronic performers. Boysenberry's story was about a stallion's desperate search for his daughter through a forgotten resort town that had become host to grotesque monsters.

Apple Bloom thoroughly enjoyed listening to her class mates' stories, even the horribly written ones. Even the crappy horror stories had their own kind of charm. There was only one story she truly detested, and it was Diamond Tiara's. Much to Apple Bloom's dismay, hers was instantly nominated runner up for first prize. Diamond's story was about a creepy old mare who collected porcelain dolls. Apple Bloom ended up tuning out somewhere in the middle of the story, but somehow the old lady ended up passing away and her body magically transformed into a doll. Rumor apparently had it that any poor unfortunate soul who would come to fall into possession of this doll would soon meet a tragic fate. It was an okay story, Apple Bloom had to admit, even though that filthy, dirty, rotten, cheating filly didn't write it. how badly she just wanted to get up and call her out on it... But Apple Bloom wouldn't be able to prove the allegation, and she didn't dare risk the label of 'tattle tale' being laid upon her. So, she just kept her mouth shut and swallowed her fury.

Lunch had come, and lunch had passed. The ending of the school day was drawing near, and every child in the class had told their tale - that is - every child but one. "Dinky?" Cheerilee called out to the filly, who always sat in the back of the class. "You're the last one up." Dinky was the girl in the room that everyone tended to forget was there. A wallflower, socially inept and perpetually bashful. Nopony was expecting much out of her.

Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara had been locking competitive glares with each other the entire day. Both fillies knew that the winner would ultimately be one of them. Apple Bloom's story about a mysterious notebook that killed any who's name was written in it was sure to win the first prize. Diamond's glare turned into an insufferable grin. Apple Bloom's scathing look became even more intense. At that point, anypony unfortunate enough to tread down the isle between them would risk bursting into flames.

"I guess I'll tell my story," Dinky said in her mousy little voice. "Well, it's really more of a poem."

"A spooky poem, eh?" Cheerilee said with sudden interest. "My, how innovative. Please, share your work with us."

"Pffff," came a sarcastic snicker from somewhere in the class room. "Oh yes, Dinky, please do,"

Cheerilee drew a ruler from the inside of her desk and flung it like a shuriken in the direction of the heckler. Under and over it tumbled through the air until it bounced off of the cackling colt's head. "Ouch!"

"That'll learn you!" Cheerilee said with a glare. Her expression then softened as she turned back to Dinky. "Sweetie, are you going to recite your poem for us?"

"I-I guess so." The filly climbed down from her desk, one foreleg hugging a notebook tightly to her chest as she shuffled toward the head of the classroom. She sat on her haunches, opened her book, then looked down at her script. She stood there for a very long time, not moving, not blinking, seemingly not even breathing. The children were noticing her flank, her solid purple flank, was flashing with a strange light.

"Cutie Mark," came the hushed whispers in the room. "She's getting her cutie mark." "Dinkie Doo is finally getting her cutie mark?"

Dinkie's eyes suddenly narrowed in a determined way that nopony had ever seen before. The unicorn's horn flickered. The handle on the phonograph began to crank, and the distorted music box chiming played. "My poem," she said, dark and somber, "is a very short one. It is called 'Hell's Trees.'" The filly cleared her throat and recited:

"The ropes creak as the bodies sway, dying, dead, they had to pay. From the trees of hell they swing forth and back, their tongues swollen, their hooves bound back. They choke, they gasp, but never die, from hempen rope they shall forever writhe. The ropes creak as the bodies sway, dying, dead, they had to pay.

A long silence lingered over the room. It lasted until the phonograph reached the end of its play.

"Dinkie..." Cheerily took a few moments to find the words she was searching for. "That was amazing. I mean, it was dark and, I'm seriously beginning to consider if I should talk to your mother about getting you some counseling... But, it was amazing all the same! And... Look, Dinky!"

Dinky's dark demeanor washed away with a coy little tilt of her head. She looked down, and could see that her flank was now emblazoned with the image of a sanguine quill protruding from the top of a skull-shaped candle, dripping with beads of melting wax. "My cutie mark!" she gasped incredulously.

"Well, children." Cheerilee lifted the winners basket and placed it on top of her desk. "Your stories were all excellent, but, I think we all know who the winner is this year."

Dinky placed a hoof of disbelief over her chest. "Me?" she squeaked. "I'm the winner?"

The children in attendance were nodding in agreement and they all began to clap their hooves.

Of all days, why did that blank flank have to choose this one to get her cutie mark... And in poetry, no less! Apple Bloom let out a groan of defeat, allowing her head to collide with her desk. "Ah, Ponyfeathers!" She peered up from the wooden surface to steal a glance at Diamond Tiara. The filly sat back in her seat with a scowl, her lips puckered petulantly as her arms were crossed over her chest. Diamond Tiara would receive no reward for her dishonesty. At least that was some consolation...

The bell had announced the end of the school day. Cheerilee dismissed her students, and they all filed out of the class room to head home. Defeat was a bitter draught for Apple Bloom, but watching Dinky, who wasn't accustomed to winning anything - ever - being showered in praise and congratulations somehow made it bearable. Even though the prize basket and everything in it was rightfully hers, she didn't hesitate to start sharing and distributing her winnings to all her classmates. She offered a candied apple to Diamond Tiara, who merely harrumphed, extended her muzzle toward the sky, then walked away flicking her tail at her.

"Di!" Silver Spoon shouted as she chased after her. "You do realize that there isn't anything in that basket your dad can't just buy for you, right?"

"You just don't get the point, do you, Sil? You can't buy the feeling you get when you win something!"

"Even when you cheat to win it?"

"What did you just say to me?"

Apple Bloom watched the two friends quarrel until they were out of earshot. That wasn't who she wanted to be when she lost. She swallowed her pride, turned to Dinky and said, "Hey, congratulations."

"Thank you," said Dinky the Unicorn, who had been busying herself with the sorting of the remainder of her candy. "I can't believe I actually won. I'm still shaking. Momma is going to cry when she sees my cutie mark, I just know it. I just have to mentally prepare for that." She selected a candied apple from the basket and held it out for Apple Bloom to take. "Here, this for you."

Apple Bloom approached and said, "Ah don't need any charity. You earned yer winnings fair and square."

"That may be true, but your story was really good."

Apple Bloom smiled. Somehow the comment made her feel better. "You really liked it?"

Dinky nodded. "Don't consider it charity. Let's just call it second place."