Luna was clearing the sky around a mountaintop when she sensed Moondog slip into the dream behind her. She wasn’t sure why Moondog kept trying to be so inconspicuous when entering a dream; it wasn’t like the dreamer was even able to notice it unless it let them. And big entrances were more fun, besides. “I need a moment,” she said, finishing off the tail of a pegasus-shaped cloud. She gave it a nudge and the cloud zipped away, wings pumping.

“Yep,” said Moondog. “Take your time.” No panic. Good sign.

Once the sky was empty and the clouds were cavorting around each other, Luna dimmed the sun just a tad and turned around. Moondog was patiently perched on a tiny bit of floating rock. It flicked a hoof and the rock blossomed like an upside-flower, unrolling from nothing until there was more than enough space for both of them to sit comfortably. “Did you want something?” Luna asked, alighting.

Moondog rustled its wings. “Well, Nightmare Night’s coming up in a few days, and it’s kinda your holiday, so… I wanna do something to celebrate you or it or whatever. And, yeah, I know I don’t have to do anything. It’s just… I wanna.”

Although Moondog’s “childhood” had hardly been normal, there were some feelings that Luna suspected were near-universal within parent-child relationships, the love and gratitude she was feeling now being an example. All told, such a gesture was a small thing, but the mere fact that Moondog wanted to do something mattered far more than whatever gesture it came up with and made Luna’s heart swell. “You certainly have my permission, if that is what you desire,” she said. “Ponies can live with dreams of ghosts and goblins for one night.”

Moondog twirled a lock of its mane around a hoof. “Well, see, that’s kinda the problem.” It took a deep breath. “Subtlety and restraint are…” It bumped its front hooves together and looked away. “…not among my fortes.”

“And the issue with that is?”

“Well, it’s- I mean- Nightmare Night’s supposed to be the fun kind of scary, but if I tried scaring ponies, I’d probably end up doing something like…” Moondog grabbed its upper and lower jaws and pulled them apart until its mouth was much too wide. As its body collapsed, from its throat slithered a gigantic, slimy, writhing thing, wormlike with horns and far too many spindly, over-jointed limbs. It turned on Luna and, fanged jaws dripping with venom and slobber, roared at her.

Wiping some spit off her face, Luna frowned. “Ah. Yes, I see.”

“I know, right?” said the worm. It dissolved into ash and Moondog stood up again. “Ponies say they like being scared,” it said, waving its hooves around, “but my whole job is making things not scary and getting your head chopped off by an axe murderer is scary but I’m pretty sure ponies don’t want that-”

“Moondog-”

“-and it’s kinda hard to tell that something’s just a dream and you’re safe when you’re in it but if you do know it’s a dream then it practically can’t scare you because you know you’re like extra safe because if anything happens you’ll just wake up and you can’t even get hurt-”

“Moondog-”

“-and that’s not even getting into different ponies thinking different things are scary and if I get confused I could give a terrifying nightmare to one pony because it was an awesome thrill to another pony and I’d never be able to forgive myself for that-”

“Moondog!”

Moondog twitched and (literally) zipped its mouth shut.

Part of Luna wondered how much more boring her life would be if Moondog had been nothing more than what she’d wanted when creating it. She definitely wouldn’t be talking about this. “Scaring ponies,” she said, “is more complicated than it might seem, but, in my opinion, fear stems from a lack of control. You know how nightmares come about because one cannot do this or is helpless to stop that.” Moondog nodded, and Luna continued, “So if you want to make a dream frightening without it being too frightening, I would make the dreamer less helpless. Let them outrun the monster, free themselves from its clutches, see it as a fake rather than a threat.”

“So… if I want to give ponies nightmares they’ll enjoy… I should just, like, put seams on the monsters? Like…” Moondog pulled its head open again. This time, the worm was clearly a rubber costume, and a badly-made one at that, although no pony could hope to wear a costume like that. There was no slobber and its roar was tinny, like a bad phonograph recording.

“You can certainly try,” said Luna. She squinted; the costume even had “Made in Chineigh” stamped on it. “Although going that far would probably inspire more laughs than screams. Perhaps you ought to dial it back slightly.”

“Eh, I dunno.” The worm vanished again; Moondog rubbed one leg against the other. “I mean, silly nightmare or not, it’s not like they’re choosing to have nightmares. Or even that they would know it was just a nightmare at the time.”

“I admit I have never considered deliberately giving ponies terrifying dreams,” Luna said. (Except for that one selenologist when she’d first come back, Waxing Gibbous. Screw that mare.) “This particular holiday… Perhaps it would be best if you tried scaring ponies in the real world. They would be able to realize the, ahem, reality of the situation far more quickly.”

Moondog made a face. “Do I have to?”

“Of course not,” said Luna. “But ponies identify more with the physical world than with dreams, so perhaps even a mildly frightening thing occurring to them in the real world would be more memorable.”

“How realityist.” Seeing the look on Luna’s face, Moondog quickly added, “I’m kidding! Really!”

Luna rolled her eyes and flexed her wings. “In any case,” she said, “I doubt I can help you with regards to dreams. For once, I have as little experience as you.”

“Well, Nightmare Night isn’t for another few nights,” Moondog said to itself. “I’ll think about it. Can I, um, come to you for advice on real-world scares?”

“Of course. If you decide to do so but are worried about ponies’ reactions, I would recommend Ponyville. They have a… gift for dealing with the abnormal with minimal fuss.”

“Understatement of the year, every year.”

Being the Princess of Dreams for centuries meant Luna had long since become immune to shock from things popping into existence before her, so she didn’t even break her stride when Moondog blipped over to her between dreams with no warning. “Are animate gargoyles a common thing?” it asked.

“Not in Ponyville,” Luna said. “Were you thinking of adding them?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to have one if it was just another one in dozens,” said Moondog. “Just something like…” It raised and lowered a wing, revealing a statue of a snarling, dragonlike creature perched on a plinth. “And not super detailed on the animation, either, just…”

The gargoyle blinked and flapped its wings as fluidly as if they were flesh. It kneaded its claws against its base. “To activate your gargoyle,” it growled, “please press nose. To turn your gargoyle off, please press left ear. To add a new action, please press-”

“Only, y’know, actually a little scary and a lot atmospheric,” Moondog said. It tapped the gargoyle’s left ear to freeze it. “Small, subtle movements ponies aren’t sure they saw, glowing red eyes, that sort of thing.”

Luna examined the gargoyle from top to bottom. “The design is exquisite,” she said, “although I feel it would work best as part of a crowd of inanimate gargoyles. A single moving statue is blatant. One in an otherwise still collection is uncanny.”

“Yeah, good point.” Moondog looked at the statue again, then shrugged and flared a wing; the gargoyle vanished behind it. “I’ll see if I can inspire the mayor to decorate Ponyville with gargoyles.”

“Were you planning on haunting Ponyville?”

“It’s where I’ll haunt if I go out. I’m just keeping my options open right now.”

Moondog actually looked a bit pleased with itself when it binged up. “Hey, Mom? Could I get your opinion on something?”

“Of course,” said Luna. “On what?”

“Ghosts are a common costume, so I was thinking I could get sheetfaced.”

Luna raised an eyebrow.

Moondog rolled its eyes. “Like this, obviously.” It pulled a white sheet from nowhere and draped it over itself, every inch the stereotypical ghost. “Then, when ponies try to look under it to see who I am…” It pulled the sheet up, revealing nothing underneath. “Boo.”

“Perfectly in the spirit of the holiday,” Luna said, smiling. “Shocking, yet unthreatening.” She affectionately rubbed the indentation that marked Moondog’s mane.

“Mooooom…” The sheet collapsed and vanished as Moondog, visible again, stepped back from under it. “Stp tht,” it mumbled, and beat its hair back down.

“Never. But, yes, that is the ideal amount of spookiness.”

“Huh.” Moondog nodded and began smiling. “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

“Indeed.”

Luna was standing near the back at Derpy’s coronation (the trumpets had needed fixing) when she felt Moondog enter the dream. But when she looked around, she couldn’t see it.

“Hey! Hey, Mom!”

Luna looked down. Her shadow had detached itself from her and appeared to be waving at her; it was hard to tell which direction a featureless black shape was “looking”. “So I was thinking,” Moondog said from her shadow. “Shadows can’t hurt you at all, right? But they have to come from somepony, so a shadow without a pony would-”

“Moondog,” Luna said flatly. After almost a dozen questions in the past night alone, her patience was wearing a tiny bit thin. “You need not come to me for every single scaring suggestion. You are doing perfectly fine. Do not worry.”

“But it’s the last night before Nightmare Night,” her shadow said, flailing its legs, “and I want to be sure that I’m not-”

Sighing, Luna ripped the shadow from the floor, shook some three-dimensionality into it, and set it back down. “I know what it is like to second-guess oneself,” Luna said, “but there always comes a time when you must simply have faith in your own abilities. I believe you will not be too scary tomorrow night.”

Color bled back into Moondog. “I know,” it mumbled, looking down at its hooves. “But I’m just- I don’t wanna screw this up!”

“You won’t,” said Luna. “It is perfectly normal to be afraid of poor performance when doing something new, but eventually, you must do it, one way or another.”

“But if I go too-”

“You won’t.”

“But-”

“You won’t.”

Moondog looked Luna in the eye. It opened and closed its wings, then smiled. “Thanks, Mom.” A second’s pause, then it stepped forward and hugged Luna. “For all your help.”

Luna returned the gesture immediately, wrapping her wings around the two of them. “You know that even if you scare somepony too much,” she said, “they shall most likely forget it in a few days, yes?”

Moondog’s grip tightened a little. “Yeah. I just want to do it right, and- Thanks. Sorry if I’ve been bugging you too much in the past week.”

“You are most welcome, and do not worry. I am happy to help.” Luna broke off the hug. “Whether you go to Ponyville or stay in the dream realm, I hope tomorrow night goes well for you.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I should get back to dreams. See you tomorrow, and adios.” Moondog saluted and vanished into a puff of dust.

Nightmare Night was well under way in Ponyville, and the moon shone down cold and pale upon the town. Costumed ponies roamed the shadowed streets, demanding sugar from the inhabitants. Toilet paper fluttered from a few carefully chosen trees and lampposts. The wind that blew through the streets was cool without being biting. It was late enough that trick-or-treating was starting to wind down while the annual town festival was winding up. And on the edge of town, three not-so-little-anymore fillies trotted down a certain path to a certain castle.

“Does Twilight even pass out candy at her castle?” Apple Bloom asked, adjusting her Robbing Hoof cap. “I always thought she gave it out at the party in the town square.”

“For the last time, I don’t know,” said Scootaloo. She had to speak a bit louder than usual, as her little set of Night Guardsmare armor clinked as she walked. “But it can’t hurt to try, right? Maybe she keeps the best candy for ponies who’ll stop by and say hi to her.”

“Besides,” added Sweetie Belle, “we’ve already got a good haul, so it’s not like we’re missing out on any candy by going to her house instead of somepony else’s.” She pulled at the strap around her head, tightening her hippogriff beak. In spite of Rarity’s assurances, she kept feeling like it was going to slip off.

They reached the bottom of the steps and climbed up. “Fine,” said Apple Bloom, “but we can’t wait too long.” Knock knock. “What if she’s already left?”

“Wait a minute, knock again, wait another minute, then we can go,” said Sweetie Belle. She leaned over the railing to peer in through one of the windows. “Although it looks kinda dark in there. Maybe-”

Something flashed inside. “She’s coming!” whispered Sweetie Belle. “At least I think she is. Get ready!”

A few moments later, the door opened, and the Crusaders chorused, “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us someth-” Their voices trailed off as they saw who — what — was in the doorway.

A skeleton in tattered rags stood on the top step, leering down at them with that lipless grin. Bones audibly ground against each other as it moved and wet dirt still clung to it. Its “clothes” were barely even recognizable as cloth anymore, they were so torn and dirty. Cold blue fire burned in its eye sockets as it swept its gaze over them. The Crusaders screamed and each pulled themselves into a tiny little ball.

“Hi, girls!” chirped the skeleton. “I love your costumes! Especially yours, Scootaloo.”

Apple Bloom lowered her hoof, just a little. She stared at the skeleton; the skeleton stared back. She took in the colorless horn, the bony wings… “Twilight?” she gasped.

“In the flesh!” the skeleton said, thrusting its — her? — chest forward. “Except obviously not. Except yes, you just can’t see it!” That was definitely Twilight’s laugh. “I’m working on my illusion spells. Good, right?” It was impressive how a skeleton could smirk when it literally had only one expression.

Once Scootaloo worked up the courage to look, her jaw dropped. “Whoa,” she breathed. “That is so cool. Can I touch it?” She hopped up to Twilight and reached out.

“No!” yelped Twilight, quickly taking a step back. “It, uh, just feels like- y’know, fur! And, and- it’s a delicate spell! If you touch it, it could fall apart. So: no touchy.” Her bones clacked together as she wagged a calcified hoof at them. “No touchy.”

Sweetie Belle maneuvered herself to look down Twilight’s ribcage. The sight kept distracting her and tying her tongue. “S-so, um… We were… kinda hoping… You even got the shadows on the inside right! How do you do that?”

“Any chance you got a secret stash of candy?” asked Apple Bloom. “Just in ca-”

Twilight’s wings flared so wide the bones seemed to risk detaching from each other. “HOW’D YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?” she screamed. “STARLIGHT SWORE SHE’D NEVER TELL ANYONE!” A pause. “Ha! Kidding. Sorry, girls, but there’s no candy here.”

“Aw, c’mon!” said Scootaloo. “Pleeeaaase?” She made the most adorable eyes she could muster.

Unfortunately, Twilight proved impervious to cuteness. “Really, there’s no candy,” she said. The Crusaders all groaned, and Twilight continued, “If I had any, you’d all be the first to get it. Mostly because you’re the first ponies to come over here tonight. But thanks for stopping by and getting scared!” She looked over her shoulder into the castle. “There’s a few things I need to finish up first. See you at the festival, and adios, amigas!” Saluting, she stepped back and closed the door in the Crusaders’ faces.

“Dangit,” said Scootaloo. She swatted at the door. “I was kinda hoping…” She shrugged and hopped down the stairs. “At least the skeleton was cool.”

“Totally,” said Sweetie Belle.

The road to Ponyville didn’t lead directly to the town square, so the Crusaders cut across a field, soon weaving between the outlying houses. With the houses blocking out the moon, shadows crisscrossed the streets.

“I wonder how hard it is for her to do it,” said Apple Bloom. “Maybe she could do it for me next year.”

“I dunno, she sounded like it was a pretty hard spell,” said Scootaloo.

“Yeah, but she’s Twilight, and after she studies for a year-”

Sweetie Belle jumped and spun around. “What was that?!” she squeaked, pointing down a particularly dark alley. “Did you hear that?”

Apple Bloom looked over. She couldn’t see anything where Sweetie Belle was pointing; it was almost black. “Hear what?” she asked. She squinted through the lightless frame. There might’ve been something in there. Might.

“Something was breathing!” Sweetie’s words were so high-pitched that her voice was cracking. “Right next to me!”

The Crusaders stopped and listened. The only sounds were the usual sounds of the night and distant noises from the festival. Scootaloo snickered. “Stop being such a fraidy-foal. There’s nothing-”

The wind gusted out of the alleyway, right into Apple Bloom’s face. It was hot and damp. She yelped and quickly backpedaled as her heart rate spiked. Scootaloo’s voice stopped; her eyes were wide and her wings were limp at her sides.

Sweetie Belle was backing up, already pressed against the houses on the opposite side of the street. “See? You two felt that, too!”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo scrambled after her. “It’s- probably nothing,” Scootaloo said, trying to sound casual even though her voice was higher-pitched than Sweetie Belle’s. “J-just a Nightmare Night prank, right?”

“R-right!” said Apple Bloom. Sweetie Belle wasn’t convinced at all.

“S-so,” said Scootaloo, “we’ll just- keep- going to the party! They’re not getting us.” She spun around and yelled at the alley, “You’re not getting us! Ha ha! C’mon, girls, let’s move.”

“Stop mocking the ghost, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle whispered as they shuffled down the street. They looked back every few seconds, but nothing was following them. And it was following them closely.

“It’s not a ghost,” said Scootaloo. “Ghosts don’t breathe, do they?”

“They are dead,” said Apple Bloom. “And if they did, their breath’d be chilly.”

“Well, if it’s not a ghost, what is it?” asked Sweetie Belle. But she sounded a little bit calmer.

“Somethin’ from the Everfree, maybe. Y’know, it’s as scared of us as we are of it and all that, and that’s why it’s stickin’ to the shadows. Prob’ly just got lost.”

“Besides,” added Scootaloo, “it’s light enough that we’ll be able to see it coming.”

Pitch darkness fell over the area like a blanket.

“Goldang it, Scoots.”

“Shut up, Apple Bloom.”

Something huffed; another breath washed over Apple Bloom’s face. She tried backing up, but found herself pressed against the other two. All three of them were shaking in their own private earthquakes. Something crunched. Whatever was following them, it was only a few scant feet away. And Apple Bloom couldn’t even see her hoof in front of her face.

“A-alright,” said Sweetie Belle, “um, just lemme-” A spark, and her horn flared to life, finally revealing what was hiding in the darkness.

Nothing.

Nothing but a disembodied shadow, connected to a set of hoofprints. Low, cackling laughter rang through the alleyway as the shadow spread its wings wide.

The Crusaders all attempted to hide behind each other at once. “Uh, girls?” said Scootaloo, her wings shaking. “I don’t think-”

The emptiness before them split into a sharp-toothed grin. “Good, gooooooood,” whispered the voice of Nightmare Moon. “Fear. It adds a most delicious taste to the flesh…” The shadow took a step forward and a hoofprint appeared in the dirt.

Apple Bloom hurled her bag at the shape; candy splattered against nothing. The Crusaders shrieked as one and bolted. Where, they didn’t know. That wasn’t important. They just needed to get away. Houses blurred, lamps were reduced to streaks in their vision, and the whistle of the wind grew to a howl as their little hooves pounded the ground. Was that low sound following them a devilish laugh? Or was it just their hearts beating in their ears?

By some miracle, they eventually found themselves back in the town square, with all the adults. They piled behind the apple-bobbing basin and peeked out, one by one. “Is it still following us? Is it gone?” gasped Scootaloo.

“I dunno!” Apple Bloom squinted down the street. “I can’t see it!”

“Of course you can’t, it’s invisible, you dodo!”

“Um, excuse me?” asked Carrot Top nervously. “You three are kinda in the way-”

“I don’t hear anything,” said Sweetie Belle, “and I don’t see any footprints.”

“Go out and check,” said Scootaloo, nudging Sweetie Belle.

“You’re, um, holding up the line,” Carrot Top said, more loudly.

“What? Me? No way, Apple Bloom should go.”

“And why me?”

“ ’Cause you’re the strongest of all of us. Remember when you almost took a cart through a fire swamp?”

“Hey!” said Carrot Top. “There are a lot of ponies waiting to bob for apples here!”

“All of us, on three,” said Scootaloo. “Okay?” She buzzed her wings nervously.

“Fine,” said Sweetie Belle.

“One-two-three-go, or one-two-go-on-three?” asked Apple Bloom.

“Y’know what, from three.” Scootaloo dug her hooves into the ground. “Okay, three…”

“Will you hurry up?!” yelled Carrot Top.

“Two… one… go!”

The Crusaders jumped from behind the apple tub at the same time, much to the release of the ponies waiting to bob. They all stared at the street they’d run from, breathing heavily. But nothing came.

They waited. Nothing continued to come.

When nothing kept coming after a solid minute, the Crusaders started rolling on the ground and laughing. “That was awesome!” crowed Scootaloo.

“I know, right?” said Sweetie Belle. “That Nightmare Moon voice was really good!”

“Y’think that was Twilight?” Apple Bloom asked. She trotted up to the street and squinted down it. Nothing. “Tryin’ her illusions again?”

“It must’ve been! Who else could’ve done it?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo gasped. “Unless it’s another villain making us think it’s Nightmare Moon!” she said. “Think about it: if it’s Nightmare Moon, Twilight and the others can just zap her with the Elements of Harmony, so that’s what they’ll try! But if it’s not Nightmare Moon, maybe the Elements won’t work on them!”

“That’s a stupid idea,” said Sweetie Belle. “You’re stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! Why is it stupid?”

“A, nopony would really think it was Nightmare Moon, since Luna’s fine. B, the Elements can zap everybody. And C, if it was a real villain, they’d be crushing houses right about now.”

The Crusaders all looked down the street. No house-crushing.

“Well, I think it’d be cool,” pouted Scootaloo.

“Not on Nightmare Night,” said Apple Bloom. “It’d mess up trick-or-trea- Conflab it! I left my candy back there!” She galloped down the street.

“Hey, wait!” yelled Scootaloo.

“It could be dangerous!” said Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom didn’t pay them any attention. She was pretty sure it’d been Twilight, anyway. Youthful curiosity, Crusader determination/boneheadedness, and the call of candy pulled her onward. She retraced their footprints down the street, around corners, through- There it was. The cluster of footprints where they’d seen the shape. She even found the larger footprints the shadow had made.

What she couldn’t find was her candy bag. Even in the dim streetlights, there was a distinct lack of treats — especially odd, since candy had gone flying everywhere once she’d tossed the bag. There weren’t even any wrappers. Apple Bloom paced back and forth around the street with her nose to the ground, looking for candy, coming up empty.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo ran up behind Apple Bloom. “What’re you doing?” Sweetie stage-whispered. “You don’t know who could be here!”

“Twilight,” said Apple Bloom, poking around a trash can. No candy. “And I can’t find my candy.”

“You can’t?” Sweetie lit up her horn. Nothing jumped out at them from the shadows and no candy was revealed. “Huh. D’you think Twilight took it?”

“Does Twilight like candy all that much?” asked Scootaloo. “I thought-”

“She don’t like it as much as Pinkie,” Apple Bloom said as she rooted through somepony’s flower pots (nothing), “but she likes it. I didn’t think she liked it enough to steal it, though.”

Sweetie Belle cast her light around the alley. “Do you think being a princess gets you a candy stipend of some sort? With how much Celestia likes cake, that wouldn’t surprise me. So if Twilight ran out… I dunno.”

Apple Bloom looked inside a mailbox and only found a muffin. She sighed and her ears dropped. “C’mon, let’s get back to the party,” she said. “My candy ain’t here.”

“Don’t worry, you can have some of ours,” said Sweetie, nudging Apple Bloom in the shoulder.

“Sure!” said Scootaloo. “We’ll each give you half of ours!”

“I was thinking more like a third,” said Sweetie Belle. “See, if you give her half and I give her half, she’ll have two halves, which is one whole, while we’ll have only one half each. But if we each give her a third, we’ll all have the same, ’cause-”

“You know what, I’ll take your word for it,” said Scootaloo. She rolled her eyes. “You’re turning into Twilight.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. She can do illusions like whoa.”

The festival that night was one of the best in years. Ponyville had gone all-out with the decorations; in addition to the usual trimmings, torches lined the streets, gargoyles perched on the eaves, the town hall had been turned into an ominous castle, pumpkins leered from every street corner, and more. The atmosphere was so thick that Scootaloo kept insisting one of the gargoyles was following her. The games had been expanded a lot since last year, mostly on advice from Pinkie (sadly, Apple Bloom only came in third in the pumpkin-pie-eating contest). And Zecora capped the night off with tales of a monster called an “obia” from her homeland, which…

“Those creatures will snatch all you foals from our town, and they’ll flee to the woods — you will never be found! They will take you straight back to their witch and her lair; to escape, I’m afraid, you will not have a prayer. When she finds herself taken by just the right whim, for herself she shall make a fine coat from your skin!”

Well. Applejack wasn’t around, but Apple Bloom kind of wanted to see how she’d react to a story like that. By the time the night was over, the Crusaders were well on the road to being fully tuckered out.

They were sitting with their backs against a lamppost, each on a different side. “Thish wash a goo’ night,” Scootaloo said through a mouthful of caramel. She swallowed and rummaged through her bag again. “I don’t think I’ve ever got this much candy before. Even after I gave a third of it away.”

Apple Bloom moved the peppermint she was sucking on below her tongue. “Sorry ’bout that,” she said. “But-”

“I’m not complaining!” Scootaloo said quickly. “Just pointing out that we got a buttload of candy!” She buzzed her wings. “I wonder if we can complain to Twilight about her taking your candy. You didn’t see her, did you? I was too busy disemboweling pumpkins to look.”

“She’s been around, but I think she changed her costume,” Sweetie Belle said. “She looked like a windigo.”

“Why’d she change? That skeleton was awesomely creepy.”

“Dunno. We can ask her when we pester her about Apple Bloom’s candy.”

“Then c’mon. Let’s get to lookin’.” Apple Bloom toppled onto her hooves and arched her back. Her sugar rush had wound down a while back and she already knew she’d sleep like a log.

The Crusaders supported each other as they meandered through the cleanup. Cheerilee hauled a cart around to collect all the streamers. Big Mac collected the pumpkins. Lyra stared in confusion at a ghost’s sheet. And Twilight and Rarity were retrieving the gargoyles from the roofs.

“Wherever are we going to store them all?” Rarity asked as she dropped another one in the cart behind them. “I really don’t know what Mayor Mare was thinking. They certainly set the mood, but they’re all but useless outside of Nightmare Night.” She was dressed in what could only be described as military chic, with camouflaged armor not dissimilar to the Royal Guard’s, but as fabulous and glamorous as only she could make it, complete with heels. It wouldn’t have looked that out-of-place on a runway.

Twilight plucked four gargoyles at once from their perches. “The Castle of Friendship has a lot of storage space,” she said, “and the mayor just said she had a good idea about this.” She noticed the Crusaders approaching and waved. “Hi, girls!” she chirped. “I love your costumes!” As a windigo, she was wearing a blue jumpsuit trailing blue streamers magically suspended in the air.

“I know,” said Scootaloo. “You already told us back at the castle.”

“I did?” Twilight frowned. “When?”

“We stopped by right before we came to the party,” said Apple Bloom. “You were testin’ your illusions to look like a skeleton, and-”

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked. “I didn’t do anything with illusions tonight.”

“Dun-DUN-dunnnnnnnnnnnn!” yelled Pinkie Pie, making everypony jump. She smiled and pronked away without another word.

After a moment of silence, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo pushed Apple Bloom forward. Quickly adjusting her hat, Apple Bloom said, “Well, uh, we, uh, stopped by the castle ’fore we went to the party, and, uh, you answered the door-”

“But you looked like a skeleton,” said Sweetie Belle. “And I don’t mean like dressed up like one, like an actual skeleton.”

Rarity shuddered. “How horrid,” she whispered.

“It was awesome!” Scootaloo said, jumping into the air.

“And you said you just testin’ your illusions and shooed us to the festival,” said Apple Bloom.

“Yeah, that wasn’t me,” Twilight said slowly. “I don’t remember anypony stopping by.” She tapped her chin, hmming. “I guess it could’ve been Starlight,” she muttered. “She’s not really a Nightmare Night mare… But why would she-”

“And then,” Apple Bloom continued, “when we were goin’ to the party, we-”

“Apple Bloom!” Applejack trotted up. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you! C’mon, it’s late and you need to get home.”

“But AJ-”

“No buts! It ain’t gonna be my fault if you can’t get up for school tomorrow.”

“Oh, alright.” Apple Bloom flicked her tail. “See you tomorrow, girls.”

As Apple Bloom and Applejack walked away, Twilight said, “So, what happened on the way back from the castle?”

About thirty seconds later, Apple Bloom heard Rarity shriek, “Nightmare Moon?!”

Much to her chagrin, Apple Bloom found herself nodding off as she and Applejack headed home; she finally blacked out just past the gate and came to with Applejack carrying her into Sweet Apple Acres’ front room.

“Musta been a busy night, for you to get this tired,” chuckled Applejack.

“I ain’t tired,” protested Apple Bloom. She yawned dramatically as she wiggled off of Applejack’s back.

“Get some rest, sugarcube,” said Applejack. “I gotta help with the cleanup, but I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

And so Apple Bloom dragged herself up the staircase to the room. She was so tired that the hallway seemed to be tilting. Once she stumbled into her room, she pulled off her costume, tossed each part of it into a different corner into her room, and turned to her bed to sleep. But what she saw woke her up almost immediately.

There was a bag sitting on her bed, exactly like the trick-or-treating bag she’d had. She looked at the note attached, with its elaborate, olde-timey letters.

Your offering was most appreciated, but I will not take more than my fair share.
— NMM

She immediately upended the bag. Piles of candy spilled onto the floor. All the candy she’d lost to Nightmare Moon. Or at least almost all of it. Caramel had given her two bags of candied chestnuts and now she only had one, she was missing some nougats, and there wasn’t any gum in there at all. But that was a small price to pay for one of the best Nightmare Night scares ever.

She quickly gathered the candy back up, making sure to check under her bed so that none of it would go to waste. Thankfully, as she catalogued her treats, she found that most of her favorites were still around. Except for peppermints. Why had Nightmare Moon had to take all the best peppermints? That was just-

Clink.

She sat up straight, her ears twitching.

Clink clink.

Something was tapping at her window. Her second-floor window.

Clink.

With a gulp, Apple Bloom asked, “Hello?”

Clinkclinkclink. It was faster, more insistent. One thing was certain: it definitely wasn’t the atmosphere of Nightmare Night getting to her.

“Okay, Apple Bloom,” Apple Bloom whispered to herself. “You can do this. You’re a big pony. You ain’t scared of nothin’.”

She braced herself. No sudden clinks.

“So you’re gonna just head over there and see what’s out there and that’ll be that.”

CLINK. Apple Bloom surprised herself by not twitching.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, and Apple Bloom marched to the window. She was a big pony. She wrenched the window open, ready for anything.

But not nothing.

Outside her window was the usual tableau of Ponyville at night, a few lights dying down as the grownups cleared away the last of the decorations. Nothing, however, that could tap her window. Apple Bloom looked left, right, up, down, and still saw nothing. She slowly pivoted her ears, listening for anything, but no sounds were out of the ordinary.

“Probably just a bird,” whispered Apple Bloom as she slowly drew her head back inside. “Or a bat, tryin’ to get in.” It didn’t sound any more convincing when said out loud. She closed the window.

Instead of herself, Nightmare Moon stared back at her from the reflection, armor and all.

Apple Bloom twitched, and suddenly Nightmare Moon looked terrified. When she took a few steps back, Nightmare Moon did, too. She stopped moving and tilted her head one way. So did Nightmare Moon. She tilted her head the other way. So did Nightmare Moon. She raised her hoof. So did Nightmare Moon. She picked her nose. So did Nightmare Moon. But was it Apple Bloom’s imagination, or did her reflection’s eyes narrow, just a little?

She tried flexing her back to see if anything happened with “her” wings, but nope. “I thought Twilight said she didn’t do nothin’ with illusions,” mused Apple Bloom.

“She didn’t, Ms. Bloom,” said Nightmare Moon, flaring her wings.

Apple Bloom squeaked and shuffled away. Nightmare Moon stayed in the reflection, grinning toothily at her. She gave a deep, throaty chuckle as she disintegrated into wisps of smoke.

“Whoa,” whispered Apple Bloom. She scrambled back to the window, but the only reflection was hers. She looked this way and pressed herself against the glass that way. No trace of NIghtmare Moon. But was her reflection her reflection? Was it trailing behind her a teensy bit? Was her reflected room a quarter-inch larger than her real room? Did her reflected shadow have wings?

After maybe three minutes of staring at her window and one confused visit from Applejack, Apple Bloom gave up. If there was something off about her reflection, she’d have spotted it. Nightmare Moon was gone. Nothing was wrong. And as for herself? She was a big pony. She wasn’t scared of anything.

Including what Applejack would think of her sleeping with the light on tonight.

It played merry havoc on her schedule every year, but Luna positively adored Nightmare Night, and for reasons that had nothing to do with the holiday being about her. It was fun to be ghoulish for one night, to cut loose and (within reason) be a little taboo. The activities and games (different in each town she visited) were enjoyable, especially the countrywide favorite of pumpkin carving. Costumes let her be creative in ways she normally couldn’t; she’d been a mearhwolf this year. Harmony and friendship were even quietly encouraged by the way trick-or-treating was so much more fun with others than without. And to top it all off, she got oodles of free candy from foals’ offerings. So much candy.

When she entered the dream realm that night, her tracking spell couldn’t find Moondog. She didn’t think much of it, especially when Moondog was found two brainstorms later. The two of them met somewhere near Canterlot’s confluence of dreams, Moondog looking no worse for wear. “Just thought I’d let you know, Mom,” it said, “I… went out…” Its voice trailed off as it stared at Luna.

Luna flicked an ear. “Yes?” she asked.

“Mom, you… still have the, uh…” Moondog pointed at its mouth.

“Hmm? Ah. Yes.” Luna spat out her plastic fangs; they vanished in midair. “Apologies.”

“How does that even work? I bet your physical self was wearing them, but-”

“Psychology, self-perception, inertia of qualia, and unconscious focus on a certain appearance when slipping between the physical and dream realms. It is why I am still wearing this.” Luna pointed at her crown.

Moondog nodded slowly. Its tail twisted and untwisted. “Uh-huh. I see.”

“You would if you paid more attention to-”

“SO! What, um, was, what was your night like?”

Luna glared flatly at Moondog, but then shook her head and said, “Memorable. Sagineigh veritably tripped over itself trying to accomodate me, although the situation progressed far more smoothly once I convinced them to stop. Pumpkin carving there proved to be one of the most cutthroat sports I have ever seen. I was thoroughly trounced at gourd catapulting, but was able to regain some dignity in the apple bob. Nightmare Night carols are a tradition there, surprisingly enough, and I learned a few of them. And one enterprising filly managed to slip a spider into my peytral.” She looked down the front of said peytral, as if the spider had managed to pass into the dream realm with her. “I let her take some of my candy for managing that.”

“Cool,” Moondog said with a nod. “I decided to bite the bolt and went out to the physical world. I think when either you or Discord rejiggered me, it messed with my… interaction… things with physical stuff, because it didn’t feel quite that bad this time. Had to kinda strain to use magic, but oh well.” Shrug. “At least I could use magic. Swung by Ponyville, did some miscellaneous spooking whenever I saw small groups of ponies alone. I might’ve gone a bit too far with one filly, so I’ll keep an eye on her for the next few nights in case of nightmares. Also, it turns out I can ‘eat’ candy and convert it to magic to recharge myself a little. Who’da thunk? Once everyone was asleep again, I blipped back into the dream realm and, well, here I am.”

“And did you have a good night?”

Moondog smiled. “You know what, Mom? I think I did.”