Fragment the First

Interview #[REDACTED]: Apple Fritter

Note: Subject is born mute, interview was conducted with spoken questions and replies were communicated through written messages on a whiteboard.

Interview conducted by Agent [REDACTED], GRIN. 

“So can you tell me the things that led up to that day?”

It started a few weeks ago. I wasn’t feeling well. Splitting headaches and stomach cramps. Threw up almost every morning.

“And you didn’t see a doctor?”

Didn’t have the time. Harvest was brutal last month, I had a lot of ground to cover.

“But on the day of the incident you elected to go to the doctor’s?”

When you pass out in the middle of the field, you tend to call that a good reason, yes.

“Tell me more about that.”

Not much to say. One second I was bucking trees, the next my sister was dumping a bucket of water on my head.

“What did your sister see?”

Saw me fall over. She said I whispered a word when she trotted over.

“What word?”

Does it matter?

“It might. What word?”

Apple Fritter hesitates. “[REDACTED]”

Agent [REDACTED] inhales sharply. “I… I see. What happened next?”

“She took me into the house. I remember it smelled strongly of paint. I told Lavender, but she hadn’t painted anything. I remember it smelling so strong. She left to get me some water when I threw up again.”

“And then--”

Apple Fritter holds up a hoof, adding to her statement. “Paint. I threw up paint.”

“Are you certain?”

“Positive. I didn’t tell Lavender. I thought I was hallucinating, but when I went back to check there was paint in the bucket.”

“I see. You were then taken to Dr. [REDACTED], yes?”

“Yes. He said I had a fever and was likely overworking myself. Gave me some meds and told me to take a break.” 

“And this was three days before the incident?”

“Yes.”

“Did anything happen in those three days?”

“No.”

“Very well. Then tell me about the building.”

“Okay. I was finally feeling better on the third day so I went out into the orchard to check on the crops. I kind of zoned out halfway down the path. Just sort of automatically going through my checks. It was like…” Apple Fritter pauses to think. “Like this weird fog had clouded my mind. Just sort of blocked everything out.”

“And then?”

“When I blinked, I realized something was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t my farm.”

“Explain.” 

Apple Fritter pauses. “It wasn’t my farm. The trees, the plants, the apples. It was familiar but it wasn’t mine. It was as if someone had taken fragments from the farms of the Apples around Equestria and patched them together like you’d make a quilt. There were golden deliciouses growing on the gala tree, granny smiths on the red deliciouses. And the trees weren’t spaced right. Some were too close, others too far.”  

Apple erases the message having filled the board and begins writing again. “I turned to look at the farmhouse but it wasn’t there. There were just trees sprawling out over the distance.”

“At what point did you see the building?”

“I don’t know. I was walking for so long, trying to find Lavender or a worker. I remember passing a small vegetable garden when I looked up and it was there.”

“The building?”

“Yes.” 

“Can you describe it?”

Apple Fritter inhales sharply. “Well, it was huge. At least twenty stories tall? Pretty wide too. Made of concrete, I think, like the kinds you see in Manehattan. There was a massive circle of dirt around it, like someone had just taken it and dropped it into the field. As I was standing there I realized how quiet it was. There were no birds, no wind, nothing.”

Apple Fritter erases the board.

“I went up to it and opened the door.”

“You were able to approach the building?”

“I was.”

“How long did it take?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened next?”

“The door was unlocked so I went inside.” Apple Fritter inhales again. “The floor… The floor was carpet, I think. I hope it was. It… it felt more like fur. There was this noise, like the knocking of pipes, but it wasn’t random. It was rhythmic. The walls looked like they were expanding and falling. Like it was breathing. The ceiling seemed to sink lower and lower.”

Apple Fritter erases the board and continues.

“The first room was just an empty hallway. There were plastic sheets all over the wall and floor, and half of it was painted. There were these half-empty paint cans all over the floor. I swore there was somebody there, but it was like I could only see her in my peripherals.”

“Can you describe her?”

“She had a hat. I think she had an apron covered in paint. She had a roller in her mouth and was painting the walls. It smelled so strongly of paint. There was paint everywhere. All over the plastic. She turned to look at me--” She erases the phrase. “She turned and she looked through me. I couldn’t tell which way was left or right or up or down. She began to speak but she wasn’t looking at me. She was. I mean, she wasn’t she was--”

Apple Fritter’s nose begins to bleed.

“--with her eyes. I think. The smell was so strong, I just couldn’t, I need to, I had to--”

“Miss Fritter?”

Apple Fritter gives no indication she heard Agent [REDACTED] and wipes the board clean. “She told me to go so I went. I went through the other doors at the end of the hallway. It was a ballroom, the kind you see at the palace. There was this music playing from somewhere. I saw a grand piano but nobody was playing it.”

“Miss Fritter!”

Apple Fritter’s writing begins to grow frantic and indecipherable. “There was so much ??? It just made me want to cry, I ??? and there it was. It was a ??? on the floor, its petals falling off and ??? onto the ??? I just ??? I had to, I needed to just ??? in order ???? Have to find it again, I have to find it again, I have to find--”

Apple Fritter abruptly vomits [REDACTED]. The whiteboard falls from her hooves.

“Miss Fritter! Miss Lavender, please bring some water! Apple Fritter, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Apple Fritter nods, tears welling in her eyes. She signs something to Agent [REDACTED] and motions for the whiteboard.

“Apple Fritter, I think I have enough information to--”

Apple Fritter motions for the whiteboard again. Agent [REDACTED] gives it to her.

Apple Fritter draws a figure onto the board (see Addendum 1.1 for a replication of the figure).

“Oh… Oh sweet Celestia.”

End recording.