*NOTE: This is the tale of the Secret Shop, where every item has a story of its own. This is also a series of one shots. As you can see, I list down the 'locations' of the inventory. You may request an item randomly- or you can ask for an item, and the shopkeeper can try to find the closest thing to what you want.*
 
---The Olden Doll (Top rack, fifth item)---
 
>What makes a Hero?
>Their prowess?
>Their Intellect, perhaps?
>Or...
>Maybe the clothes really do make the man.
>Along side with their inventory full of legendary blades and armor, of course.
>But where do they come from, you ask?
>Legendary items do not simply pop out of nowhere.
>Unless its legendary strength is popping out of nowhere.
>But you ask again, where do they come from?
>Why, if you know where to look, you'd have anything.
>And as for your usual case of unusual-ities, you visit the secret shop.
>Go for the small corner at a town named after the country kin and follow the shadows of the sleeping homes.
>The shop that only opens when the moon is high and bright-
>The shop that holds the most rarest of the artifacts-
>The shop without that annoying 10% tax-
>Anonymous' shop of Secrets.
 
>Scootaloo finishes reading the odd letter, as she and her two companions make their way through the town.
>"'A town named after the country kin'? Wha' the biscuits does that mean, Scootaloo?" Applebloom intercepts the end of her speech.
>"I dunno, maybe it has to do the cowponies?" Sweetie Belle adds.
>"Cowponies? How in the tarnation-"
>"Wvell, I just thought it had to do with country." Sweetie huffs.
>"I don't think it means that, Sweetie Belle." Scootaloo puffs.
>The three un-marked fillies make their way across the olden part of the town-
>Right into the waiting arms of the secret shop.
 
>Fate weaves events together, bringing individuals together.
>You look over the dark street, catching no sign of life.
>But the winds bear a different news for dear old no-name...
>You dust the grey material off your stock, reclaiming the gleam the items never lost.
>Inventory never go missing, just misplaced.
>Like your toothbrush every day.
>But you know all strings in the web of secrets tug at the center.
>If someone stole for you, it will return. In which manner you are unsure, but it always did.
>Besides, you had all the time in the world.
>You take the last moments you have to yourself to brew a simple batch of tea.
>Oh yes, the lavender scent will suit it finely.
 
>You hear a ring of the store door.
>My oh my, aren't they early.
>You glance at your wrist watch.
>Or not...
>Right on time.
>Perhaps your cookbooks aren't the only thing that is beginning to age.
>You slowly make your way to the counter, keeping your steps as silent as possible.
>You soon pick up a few voices in the shop... Three? Possibly three customers.
>You peek through the doorway, finding no one to be seen.
>Perhaps the Urn of Souls got loose again.
>Eh, it would be glad to converse with the old heroes.
>You take a moment to take a sip, when you hear a loud clash in the far end of the store.
>Setting your cup down at the glass counter, you lean over to see beyond the racks of all kinds of items.
>You just find a a mess of the fifth column, what you recall was the place you stored the Blade of the Stallion and a jar of petrified monkey dick.
>Oh bonkers, the jar is broken.
>You hear more scuffle across the store, causing you to look around worriedly.
>Your eyes finally stop right under the counter, and you see three tiny fillies.
"May I help you?" You ask, raising a brow.
>"We are the- Cutie Mark Crusaders!" The fillies shout, in a voice that sounds slightly unsure.
"What do you seek?" You ask, hoping that they are not window shoppers.
>Darn expensive window shoppers.
>"We're just uhhhhh looking for something interesting." The orange one says, flashing a smile at you.
"Do you have an idea?"
>"Uhmmm, do you sell toys?"
"I sell forbidden objects from places ponies fear to thread- I also sell-" You tap the fridge by your side- "Frozen yogurt, which I call frogurt."
>"We just want a toy?"
"Ah, then I'll have something to please the filly." You say, as you turn around.
>Moving your hand across the racks, you finally grab the item, a simple, crude doll of a pony.
"Take this object, and give it a look, but beware- it carries a terrible curse."
>"That's bad." Scootaloo says, as she takes the doll.
"But it comes with a free frogurt!"
>"That's good!" Sweetie Belle bounces.
"But the frogurt is also cursed."
>"That's bad." Applebloom says.
"But you get a choice of topping!"
>"That's good!" Scootaloo replies.
"But the topping contains banana extract benzoate."
>"..." The three are silent.
"That's bad." You add.
>"Can we go now?" The fillies whine.
"Yes, and that would be-"
>The filles take the moment to dash out of the store.
>You frown once, but it melts away when you sip your tea again.
>After all, inventory never go missing- just misplaced.
>You turn back to your kitchen, when your feet feels something.
>Your toothbrush, lovely.
>You smile and pick the dirty object up.
>Like you said, just misplaced.
>But this might need RE-placing.
>Your shop door rings once more, and you find a familiar face coming in.
>No, it can't be that pony again.
>"Can I have more of your frogurt?" She says exuberantly.
>You are guessing she is after something else.
>But she doesn't look like the thieving kind...
"Lyra, why do you visit me day after day?" You ask, just wanting to get it over with.
>"I er- uhm... I really like your frogurt?"
"You could at least try to lie?"
>"Fine." Lyra scowls in discontent.
>"Right to the point, eh, Anonymous? I like that." Lyra takes the chance to lean close to the counter.
>"I REALLY like that." She emphasizes the word 'really'.
"Alright?"
>"Alright? Does that mean I can have your hotmmonkeydick?" She shouts, practically glowing.
"Of course! Coming right up." You return with a smile.
>You go over the counter, and right the downed rack.
>"S-so, are we going to like- do it here?"
"The business? Of course!"
>Lyra blushes rather brightly.
>You bend down to pick up the broken fragments of the jar- and its contents.
>You show Lyra the prize, and exclaim rather happily;
"I knew someone would buy the lucky Chinese Monkey dick charm!"
 
>"Say, Scootaloo, isn't stealing bad?" Sweetie asks nervously.
>"But he said he could go! He said it was okay." Scootaloo replies quickly.
>"Come on, don't be such a worry billy, lets see what curse this doll holds!"
>"But when do we give it back? Applejack said stealing is wrong." Applebloom urges her friend.
>"I said, we'll give it back once we know what cool things it does! Come on, to the clubhouse!"
>Applebloom and Sweetie Belle throw each other a worried glance, but ultimately decide to trust their friend.
>The criss-cross through the apple trees, having Scootaloo by the lead.
>They quickly reach the confines of their base, and already begin to prod at the mysterious item.
 
>It was a simple make, a few patches here and there, with no sign of any out-worldly notable features to see.
>No sign of enchantments, no sign of shiny after-effects, and most of all, no mechanical parts and all of that whilly-nilly.
>Soon, the girls grew tired of the object, and threw it aside, preferring to play with their own toys and games.
>What the girls failed notice was the fact that the doll stood up, and have made its way to them.
>It awkwardly bent its knees to copy their sitting position, Scootaloo's to be specific.
>Only after a moment of defeat on Scootaloo's side (In a game of a Monopoly), the trio figured out the doll was watching them.
>"Hey, who put the doll here?" Scootaloo asks, slightly surprised.
>The doll's head suddenly animated, and turns to Scootaloo, looking at it with its empty button eyes.
>A mouth suddenly rips open on its snout, and it mimics Scootaloo.
>'Hey, who put the doll here?' It echoes.
>By now, the girls have dragged back to each corner of the room.
>The doll takes are few glances around, and follows their suit, occupying the last corner.
>It still looks around like a curious bird, taking note of each of everyone's actions.
>The fillies scream once, seeing how it was moving and all.
>The doll takes a moment of pause, before screaming back in the most dreadful shriek the fillies ever heard.
>The girls cover their ears quickly at this, which the doll mirrors rather quickly.
>After what seemed like an eternity of a stare-out, the four go into motion again.
>This time, the doll copies them in a split-second.
>"Why is it following us?" Applebloom whispers to Sweetie Belle.
>Applebloom catches the doll doing the exact same thing.
>"I-I don't know!" Sweetie Belle whispers back, which comes off more like a shout.
'I don't know!' The dolls goes about.
>"M-maybe we should make a run for it?" Scootaloo whispers to the two.
>They nod in unison, and waste no second.
>The three dash out of their clubhouse with all of their might, running across the orchard in a full, single-file gallop.
>Scootaloo turns around to check for the doll.
>To her surprise, it is closing on her, running at an unbelievable speed.
>Fear provides the three a new burst of stamina, helping them zoom across the late-night town.
>"Girls, I have an idea! Let's split up!" Sweetie Belle shouts.
>"Great idea! You go left, and Applebloom go right. I'll go straight! We go straight for our homes! Come on Cutie Mark Crusaders!" Scootaloo orders.
>In some feat of 'team'-work, the three separate at the same time and rush away at their own direction.
>The doll pauses right at the point where the gang split off.
>It looks around with its large black buttons- in that same quizzical look it always had.
>It gives itself a little shake, only to draw out a small wooden frame on each of its sides.
>It flares out into a tiny pair of wings.
>And then-
>It takes the path in the center.
 
>Scootaloo slammed the door of her room, ignoring the call of her mother- asking what scared her so much.
>She then quickly jumped into her bed, and draped the warm blanket over her face.
>She felt safe in there, hidden from the sight of that wicked item.
>What was it anyway?
>Her rapidly beating heart eased soon enough, and the cold sensation at the end of her hooves died away in the heat.
>And before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
 
>Scootaloo woke to a noise coming from her window.
>She slowly turned towards it, her heart racing once more.
>She was practically dragging herself into the position, too afraid to see what she know she'll see.
>A light screech was heard at the glass, and some taps were heard.
>Scootaloo closed her eyes as she felt the soft moonlight on her face.
>Only after a moment she dared to open her eyes, but shut it again, in case she would actually spot it.
>A second take revealed nothing was there, just a rogue tree branch tapping and scratching the glass.
>Scootaloo drew a breath of relief, and smiled as she tried sleep once more.
>She realized one thing too late.
>Her door was open.
 
>Scootaloo moved about in her position, trying to rouse herself to sleep again.
>Turning over to the cooler half of the bed, Scootaloo finally saw it.
>She saw her room door open, like a gaping mouth of a monster- like an opening to the void- like a trap waiting to spring.
>A light knock was heard on the wooden floor.
>Another followed.
>Tap.
>Tap.
>Tap.
>The noise was getting louder.
>Tap.
>Tap.
 
>Tap.
>TAP.
>Scootaloo instantly turned to the other side, already shaking.
>She was buried deep in her blankets again, cowering from what followed her.
>A sudden shift in the balance of the bed took Scootaloo by surprise, as if something climbed onto the bed.
>Scootaloo quickly spun around to face the doll staring right back at her.
>Scootaloo screamed and jumped off her bed, crawling away from the doll.
>There was something wrong with the doll.
>She noticed and recognized the button eye right away, but the coat.
>The coat had changed colour.
 
>Scootaloo dragged herself up, her trembling legs not helping.
>She silently crept up away from the bed, cornering herself on her study table.
>The doll was statuesque, unmoving and completely stiff.
>It just rested in her bed, looking straight into her eyes with its unblinking buttons.
>Scootaloo soon found will to break the stare, and began to move away.
>She half expected the doll to follow her, but it stayed still.
>She had no clue what to d-
>Wait! The odd salesman! He could help her!
>Scootaloo gulped down a mouthful of spit, and began to make her way towards the door.
>She moved in an arching position, trying her best to stay away from the bed.
>As soon as she declared herself home-free, she made a run for it.
>She ran out her house, and made her way to the mysterious store.
>She suddenly tripped, falling flat on her face.
>Scootaloo looked over the road to see what tripped her- only to find nothing.
>What she noticed, however-
>Was a quilt patch on her grey leg.
>Scootaloo tried giving it a shake, but it did not move.
>She couldn't feel her left back leg.
>Scootaloo gave it a harder shake, only ripping the seams on the patch.
>Small fluffs of cotton fell out through the rip, touching the ground without a care.
>Scootaloo tried getting up, but her new leg just crumpled without any resistance.
>She had no choice to drag herself to the store, and did so with all of her might.
>Pebbles and dirt grind against her skin, causing more tears on her doll leg and tiny wounds on her other.
>Good thing the store was in sight, Scootaloo had to get help right now.
>Scootaloo saw the welcoming mat of your store, and began to bash against the door.
>Her lower body had lost feeling now, and that affliction was crawling up her body.
>Tears were flowing out of her eyes, as Scootaloo begged for help.
>Her wings scrunched up to nothing.
>Now- she could only move her neck.
>And after that brief moment, the longest pause was heard in the shady alley of Ponyville.
 
>Waiting for your new batch of tea, you open your store door to take a fresh scent of the morning.
>Ah yes, one good thing about this small town was how unsoiled it was.
>Fresh air every time you opened your door.
>Better than any Pine air freshener you had.
>Your hear your tea boil in the kitchen, and you turn to head back in.
>Your feet feels something.
>You look down to see the doll back.
>Touching its wet cheeks, you bring it in to set it on the counter.
>Did it tear a leg?
>You'd fix that later.
>You save your morning tea just in time.
>You blow on the hot liquid, before taking a sip.
>Then you just can't help but to smile.
>Inventory never go missing.
>They just get replaced.
 
>Anonymous looked over his collection of items.
>A bag of pure rainbow, an alicorn's horn, changeling's chitin- and ah! Of course.
>The newest addition- a doll of a pony.
>And like this very doll, every of these items have a tale of their own.
>But that- is a tale for another time.
 
The end.