The sun rose above Equestria to signal the beginning of another beautiful day, its bright glow reflecting off the morning dew. As its radiance filtered through the window to the Cakes’ bedroom, its soft, yet invasive light removed the two spouses from their dreams, tired eyes slowly opening to return them to consciousness.

Like every other morning, the Cakes groggily dragged themselves out of bed in order to begin their early morning preparations for the day. Running a family-owned business, especially in the food industry, required such adamant dedication. Carrot Cake got to work gathering the ingredients needed to create the various baked goods offered on the bakery’s menu, while Cupcake prepared the kitchen’s machinery for another long day of baking.

After setting a few metal bowls on top of the counter, Carrot turned to look at his wife. However, as he gazed into her eyes, He couldn’t help but notice something unusual about them. His normally cheerful spouse carried with her a worried expression as she stared, almost as if in a trance, out the kitchen’s window, its glass panes stuck with frost after a cold winter night.

Carrot Cake put down the measuring cup he was holding in his mouth. “What’s wrong, sugarplum? Is everything okay?” he said, turning towards her.

“Oh, it’s nothing, honey.” She said, turning a knob to preheat one of the kitchen’s many ovens. “I’m just a bit worried about Pinkie Pie. She's been gone for two days now. It’s not like her to leave without notice like this.”

Carrot carefully measured three cups of flour before turning back to Cupcake. “I know, muffin, but I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s perfectly safe with her family. She probably just forgot to leave a note behind. You know how that mare is sometimes.”

“Oh, I hope you’re right, marshmallow.” She said, in between placing a tray on the counter and closing the oven door. “I know she’s a full-grown mare, but I still worry about her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we write to her? Just to check up? I’m pretty sure we have the farm’s address somewhere around here.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t do that. She’s not a foal, honey.” Cupcake said. With a grin, she greased the tray laid in front of her. “Although sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

The couple shared a laugh together, happy to be able to put away their worries and face the long day of business ahead.

A few hours later, Carrot Cake trotted over to the bakery’s front door to flip over the sign that read “Sorry, we’re closed!” so that the words “Come in! We’re open!” were visible to ponies passing by in the streets. And like magic, moments after the bakery opened its doors for the day, customers began flowing into the store, eager to satisfy their morning hunger.

* * *

Pinkie Pie was usually an early riser. Of course, she was required to get up early for her job, but even on her off days she made an effort to wake up before anypony else.

There was just something so relaxing about it all. Although those who knew the mare might think it unlike her, the morning was Pinkie Pie’s special little moment where she could just sit on her balcony with a mug of hot cocoa, feeling the warm ceramic between her hooves. She could relax as she watched the sunrise, basking in its warm glow without a worry in the world. After all, Pinkie Pie loved living her life, so why would she ever want to sleep through any of it?

This morning, however, was different for Pinkie. The sun’s light didn't touch her face, teasing her awake with its meddlesome glow. Instead of her brightly-painted room, filled with the sugary smells of the kitchen below, Pinkie Pie awoke to darkness, accompanied by the sharp, rather unpleasant smell of her own sweat that lined the interior of the bucket on top of her head.

When Pinkie Pie awoke, she was greeted by the stabbing pain of the burns that littered her body.

She was anything but eager to face the day.

Pinkie's eyes would open, only for her to shut them tight soon after, drifting in and out of consciousness. The peaceful morning hours that Pinkie usually spent warm and cozy with a content little grin on her face were now spent trying her best to forget where she was; hanging by her forehooves in a hot, humid basement. As long as she kept her eyes closed, she wouldn’t have to face it. As long as she dreamed, she could at least pretend she was home.

And so she did. Pinkie Pie closed her eyes, and once again drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The cabin door gave the slightest click as it shut behind Pokey Pierce, creating a much-needed barrier between him and the harsh winter air. It was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace, a stark contrast to the loud whistling wind outside. Before moving about the dwelling, he stood in the doorway for a moment, sighing contently as his body was enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace.

Finally, without further ado, Pokey took off his winter gear, hanging his cloak next to the long, blue and yellow scarf already on the coat rack. “Well then,” he said to himself, clicking his forehooves together. “Let’s get started.”

Pokey made his way down a set of wooden stairs. He winced ever so slightly upon reaching the bottom, the cold concrete floor of the unfinished basement shocking his hoof, which had grown used to the warmth of the floor above. He made a mental note to remember to install a carpet one of these days.

He continued across the dimly-lit basement until he came to a locked door. He levitated the key out of its hiding spot under a loose floorboard and inserted it into the keyhole. Or, at least he tried to. Like it had nearly every time that month, the key stopped going into the keyhole halfway through. For the past few weeks, the lock had been particularly finicky, sometimes even refusing to lock. Ugh, this door is such a pain to deal with! he thought as a scowl adorned his face. He tried another time, only for the key get stuck again. Rage flashed in his yellow eyes.

He aggressively stomped his back hooves into the floor, his violent temper getting the best of him. “Why can't you just work for once?” he yelled, picking up a book from an adjacent shelf and throwing it at the wall. It hit the wall with a hard thump before landing on the floor.

Following the outburst, Pokey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay.” he said to himself, and very carefully inserted the key. The third time, the door finally accepted the key, and the door creaked open. Beyond it was a decently-sized wooden platform followed by a long, steep staircase.

The door clicked shut as Pokey locked the door behind him. He put down the key and made his way once again down the steep flight of stairs, paying careful attention to where his hooves fell. Once he made his way to the bottom, Pokey marched down the hall and into the basement’s storage room.

Once there, he looked around the large alcove quizzically, searching for a specific type of object. Squinting his eyes, Pokey’s head moved from left to right as he carefully scanned the shelves. A mixture of various objects, all covered in a thin layer of brown dust, adorned the shelves, ranging from instruments of torture to a few dozen souvenirs he’d kept from past victims.

Pokey stopped his search for a moment to take it all in. His mind was flooding with a torrent of memories and there was nothing he could do about it.

He looked at a small teddy bear on the floor and remembered his youngest victim, a small school age filly. He recalled the day at the Ponyville market when she told him she had been separated from her mother.

He recalled leading the little filly away from the crowd, and the look on her face when she finally realized something was wrong.

Next to the teddy bear was a beautiful silver dress. Pokey remembered its former owner, a young mare with a beautiful brown mane and pale white coat. He remembered his excitement as he watched her storm off in a huff after a lengthy argument with her coltfriend. She had decided to blow off some steam with a walk around the lake next to the dance hall. Pokey remembered the rush he felt as he followed closely behind her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Pokey’s ears perked up when looked on the floor next to the dress. Laying there was a dusty lead pipe. Just what I came here for he thought. Pokey’s dark blue aura surrounded the object as he lifted it up to his face. He took a deep breath and exhaled. The minuscule dust particles danced freely in the air as they were blown off the pipe.

Once the dust was off, Pokey grasped the pipe with his teeth in order to use his magic to carry the camera equipment into Pinkie’s cell. He exited the storage room and took a few steps down the hall. Pokey peeked in through the window to find Pinkie Pie hanging from the ceiling, presumably asleep. It was impossible to tell with the bucket on her head.

He unlocked the door and opened it slowly, taking extra care not to wake up Pinkie. As he made his way into the room, he employed the same care in setting up the camera. Once everything was set up to his liking, Pokey pressed the “record” button and whispered into the microphone. “Pinkie Pie, session two."

He tiptoed over to Pinkie Pie and readied the pipe.

Pokey inhaled sharply and screamed as loud as he could. “WAKE UP!” he yelled, repeatedly hitting the bucket with the lead pipe as he did so.

“Gah!” Pinkie Pie yelped, her dream coming to an abrupt end as her eyes shot open.

Pinkie’s world was suddenly a confusing pandemonium of sound coming from each and every direction. Her legs moved back and forth instinctively, trying to distance themselves from whatever had startled her. They returned to their stationary state once Pinkie made sense of it all, her heart plummeting into her stomach as she remembered where she was.

Even though only a few strikes were necessary to wake up Pinkie, Pokey didn’t stop, taking pleasure in abusing his prisoner. After each strike, a few sweat droplets which had been hanging off the bottom edge of the bucket were disturbed, losing their grip as they fell to join the puddle of caked blood on the ground below.

The bucket in question was made of cheap, somewhat flimsy metal, which was very easily bent when struck with a blunt object. As a result, each of Pokey’s subsequent strikes warped the metal closer and closer towards Pinkie’s face until it gave way. The pipe easily ripped through the metal and whacked Pinkie on the nose, eliciting a yelp of pain.

Pokey bludgeoned the bucket again and again with the same results. More often than not, when Pokey hit the bucket, the pipe tore straight through the metal and ended its movement on Pinkie Pie’s face.

“Ngh! Ow! I’m... OW! Awake! Stop! OWW!”

As the pipe effortlessly tore through the metal, razor-sharp edges were left behind. If one of Pokey’s strikes didn’t tear through, it at least bended the sharp edges and drove them into Pinkie’s flesh after each blow, leaving many painful, albeit minor, cuts. This, along with beating she was receiving was soon too much for Pinkie to handle, and she began to cry like a filly.

A smiled adorned Pokey’s lips as he listened.

“And I bet you used to complain about your alarm clock!” Pokey said, laughing at his own joke. Pinkie ignored him and continued crying as the throbbing pain persisted.

Thoroughly pleased, Pokey put down the pipe and levitated the bucket off of Pinkie’s head, but soon found it a difficult task due to the parts of it that had been embedded into her skin. Pokey tried a second time. As the bucket was forced off Pinkie’s head, the aforementioned embedded parts scraped at the rest of her flesh as they were removed, tearing through skin as the metal was dislodged. Pinkie cringed and gritted her teeth, tears running down her cheeks as she tried anything she could to get through the pain.

Pokey focused his magic and gave one final jerk upwards, and the bucket was finally detached to reveal Pinkie’s freshly-lacerated, disfigured face.

Pokey winced at the unpleasant sight. “Wow.”

Many strands of her curly pink hair, drenched in sweat, were stuck to her forehead. Her hair also gave off a greasy, unwashed smell that polluted the air around it. In addition to a few scabbed-over burns, Numerous yellowish-black bruises littered the lower half of her face, left behind where the pipe had struck her. Blood stained some parts of her face where her new cuts bled, save for two narrow paths below each eye where the blood was washed away by a still-flowing stream of tears.

Pinkie looked down to see Pokey standing in front of her, smiling smugly. “Good morning, Pinkie Pie! Did you at least sleep well? Y’know, ‘cause I bet you probably could have woken up in a more pleasant manner.”

Pinkie looked away and continued sobbing, every so often wincing in pain as she felt the salinity of her tears reacting with sensitive, exposed flesh. Pokey rolled his eyes. “Oh, quit crying already. You’re such a foal, Pinkie. It’s pathetic.”

“I’m sorry!” she blubbered, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She closed her eyes and breathed in through her snout and out from her mouth, a strategy she’d always used while consoling herself. Pokey wanted her to stop crying, and it only took one of his angry outbursts to teach her to obey. Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, each breath only exacerbated her tears, her body trembling in pain with each shaky exhalation.

“Are you going to stop or do I have to make you?” He threatened, levitating the lead pipe over her head.

“N-no! I can stop!” she said at the edge of hysteria. Pinkie closed her eyes and filled her head with comforting thoughts. It’s gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay, she assured herself. The more she repeated the sentence in her head, however, the less she believed it. Her face contorted in grief, and Pinkie soon began hyperventilating as a new burst of tears flowed from her bloodshot eyes.

“Looks like you could use a little help.” Pokey scoffed.

Before Pinkie could react, Pokey cued up a levitation spell, and with one final, forceful swing, the lead pipe hit Pinkie Pie directly in the abdomen. Her pupils dilated, and she violently exhaled in shock as the air was forced out of her lungs, the hard blow to her midsection having temporarily paralyzed her diaphragm.

Pokey clapped his front hooves together and smiled genuinely as he watched Pinkie struggle to breathe, her expression growing more and more panicked after each failed attempt. Her head bobbed slightly back and forth as she struggled, the coloration of her face shifting from its usual bright pink to a sickly blue. Her face contorted as if to scream, yet no noise came out. Pokey was no good at lip-reading, but he could have sworn he saw her lips forming the words “I can’t breathe” and “help”.

Pokey shrugged. She’ll be fine. he thought, Probably.

He paused the camera’s recording and exited the cell to give Pinkie some time to catch her breath while he disposed of the dented bucket, now rendered useless from his abuse moments earlier. Before throwing the ruined container aside, Pokey caught a whiff of the smell that had developed inside. Having been on top of Pinkie’s head for the two entire days he was gone, and in a rather humid basement, the interior was caked with sweat and greasy, pink stray hairs. His curiosity getting the best of him, Pokey dipped his head into the bucket and inhaled. He immediately gagged from the atrocious smell and quickly threw it aside.

Making another mental note never to do that again, Pokey once again made his way across the hall to the storage room. Once inside, he grabbed a small brown bag with his teeth before turning around to make the brief trip back to Pinkie’s cell.

Pokey entered the cell a few moments later to find Pinkie Pie still in the process of catching her breath. She had just barely regained the ability to breathe, and Pokey's presence certainly didn’t help calm her down. Eyes nervously darting around the room, her gaze flew past Pokey as he approached and focused on the right wall of the cell. She did a double-take as her eyes quickly darted back to Pokey. Pinkie squinted, attempting to make out the object levitating next to him.

Her efforts, unfortunately, were in vain. The impregnable darkness of the cell made it impossible to see anything that wasn't close to her. Pinkie bit down on her lower lip as her mind flooded with all the grim possibilities. What does he have? she asked herself, What's he gonna do to me?

Panic in her eyes, Pinkie threw another crying tantrum, thrashing about like foal who didn’t get her way. “No! Please let me go! I just wanna go home!” She cried, fresh tears flowing down her bruised, battered cheeks. “Please! Just take me home! I swear I'll do anything you want!”

Pokey chuckled. “I don’t doubt that. Do you miss your family, Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie looked down towards the ground, letting a few tears fall to the floor. “Y-yeah...”

Pokey opened the bag he had carried into the room. “Good. Then you’ll appreciate this. I went through your mail while I was away. You have a couple packages. There’s even a letter here from your folks!”

Pinkie Pie felt her fears melt away. For now, she was safe. Despite her situation, Pinkie couldn’t help but feel happiness in her heart when she saw all the mail she had received from her friends and family. The smallest glint of hope could be seen in her eyes, and for the first time in days, Pinkie Pie smiled. “R-really?”

Pokey nodded. “Really. But...”

Pinkie’s smile faded just a little bit.

“I’m gonna give you a choice. You can have all of these,” Pokey said, levitating a few packages and letters in front of her face. “Or...you can eat.”

Pinkie Pie looked down towards her stomach. She hadn’t eaten in days, and it was starting to show. Her belly, which was usually slightly disteneded due to her voracious appetite, was now flat, and hunger pangs only added to her discomfort. “I...” She began, uncertainty in her voice. “I...I don’t...please don’t make me choose!”

“Fine, I’ll throw these in the furnace while I set u-”

“No!” Pinkie cut off. “I want...I want the mail...” she said, her voice heavy with uncertainty.

Pokey raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I’m going to go back to Ponyville again at the end of the day and probably won’t return for a few days. I don’t know if you’ll be able to hold out without food for that long."

Pinkie looked down at her snout as Pokey enveloped it in his magic and jiggled it back and forth for a second. "Especially not a chubby little pig like you.” he teased.

Pinkie Pie scowled at the insult, but didn’t dare talk back. She looked at the mail, then back at Pokey, who grew more impatient with every passing second.

“I wanna hear from my family.”

Pokey rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

He opened a plain white envelope, removed the letter inside, and held it close enough to Pinkie's face so that she could read it.

Dear Pinkamena,

I hope you are having a wonderful Hearth’s Warming in Ponyville with your friends and the Cakes. Life at the farm is okay, but it has never really been the same since you left a few years ago. We know that the cab service does not come out this far, but Father finally saved up enough bits to afford a new carriage, so me, Limestone, Mother and Father are all coming to see you next week! I cannot wait to see you again!

Sincerely,

Marble Pie

"Are you finished?" Pokey said.

Pinkie hesitated at first, but eventually responded. "Y-yeah."

"Good." Pokey said. He repeated the process with another envelope.

Pinkie Pie! What’s up, girl?! Sorry I can’t hang out with you and the rest of the gang this Hearth’s Warming! It sucks but they’re making me stay here at the academy. I got the present you sent me though! I especially liked the drawing of you and me that came with it. I put it up on the wall, but apparently my roommate is allergic to crayon wax and glitter (totally weird, right?) so I have to keep it under my bed. But anyway, happy Hearth’s Warming! The first thing I’m gonna do when I get back is swing by Sugarcube Corner!

See you soon!

Rainbow Dash

Pinkie smiled. She remembered to write!

Meanwhile, Pokey tapped his hoof impatiently on the floor. "Alright, I'm sick of this. Let's get back to business, shall we?"

Pinkie’s ears drooped. “What? You said you would read all of them! You made me choose! That’s not fair!” she pouted.

Pokey turned around and got up in Pinkie’s face. He stared directly into her eyes, their faces only a few inches apart. “Do you think I care?” he laughed. Pinkie gagged at his foul breath. “Do you honestly think I care?” Pokey held up the two opened letters in front of Pinkie’s face and ripped them in half.

Pinkie squirmed around. “No! Stop!”

Pokey threw the unopened package on the floor, a cloud of dirt appearing on impact. He brought his hoof down again and again, crushing the box and its contents while Pinkie Pie watched in despair. “Did your simple little brain think that I would care one bit about your feelings?” he said, picking up the package with his magic and throwing it into the hallway.

Pokey levitated an unopened letter in front of Pinkie’s face.

“No! Please please don’t! You promised! Don’t!” Pinkie begged. Her head suddenly jolted forward, trying to grab the envelope with her teeth.

Pokey was able to move it out of her reach just in time. “Look around you, Pinkie Pie. You’re never ever going to see anyone you love ever again.” He said, ripping the envelope in two. “That’s a promise. And however long you last, you’re gonna die here.”

Pinkie Pie hanged there, staring at Pokey in disbelief. As she scanned the floor, looking at the destroyed messages from her loved ones, a feeling of rage unlike anything she had ever felt before boiled inside of her.

She snapped. “Why do you have to be such a big, dumb, stupid meanie? You lied to me! I HATE YOU!” She screamed, kicking her legs back and forth. Due to the lack of food, her energy didn’t last long. After her short outburst, Pinkie hanged there, sniveling weakly. “I hate you...”

Pokey didn’t respond. Instead, he simply walked over the the camera. Looking through the eyepiece, he stuck his tongue out as he adjusted the angle. Once satisfied, Pokey backed away from the device and unpaused the recording.

“Pinkie Pie, session two, part two.”

Pinkie cringed with fear. “What? No! Please don’t hurt me again!” She pleaded, rocking back and forth, despite the sharp, rusted edges of the tight cuffs digging into her flesh as she did so.

Pokey said nothing.

She took a deep breath. “CAN ANYPONY HEAR ME? HELP ME, PLEASE!”

Pinkie kept her eyes shut tight, trying her best to resist the immense urge to look at whatever Pokey was doing, recalling the strategy she’d always used when getting a vaccine. As long as she didn’t look at the needle, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

Right?

Pinkie managed to keep her eyelids shut for a few minutes while Pokey retrieved whatever he needed. However, the longer Pinkie Pie kept her eyes closed, the more vulnerable she felt, and the resulting unpleasant combination of curiosity and fear made Pinkie Pie unable to resist looking. After a few long minutes, she opened her eyes, but instantly regretted doing so.

Pinkie had opened her eyes just in time to see Pokey approaching, carrying in his mouth a small rock hammer. At one end of the tool was a rounded, blunt surface, the other a long spike, meant for breaking up various minerals. However, unlike the rock hammers she was familiar with from the farm, Pinkie noticed the pointed end was specially made to have small metal spikes sticking out from all sides.

Pinkie’s face turned visibly paler. “Oh no. No! No no no no please! Don’t!” she pleaded, squirming about all the way. “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T!”

This time around, her squirming was enough for the cuffs to actually break the skin, causing Pinkie to wince slightly at the unexpected injury.

“No! Get away! Don’t touch me!” She demanded, frantically kicking her legs back and forth once again, this time in an attempt to repel Pokey.

Annoyed, Pokey stood in place and watched Pinkie flail her legs around. “Do you want me to break your kneecaps? If so, please continue.” He said, looking Pinkie coldly in the eyes as he delivered the threat. Like magic, Pinkie wore a frightened look as she stopped moving completely, shuddering at the thought of her bones being broken. She didn’t want to suffer any more than she had to. Pinkie swore she could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes, almost as if he’d wanted her to give him the opportunity.

Pokey nodded in approval. “Good.”

Pokey walked behind Pinkie to a large crank sticking out of the wall. Since Pinkie was unable to stretch her neck far enough behind her to see it, she hadn't noticed it when she had examined her surroundings before. Whimpering, she cringed and prepared for a painful blow to her back from the spiked hammer.

Her eyes once again closed, she listened to the sound of Pokey grunting behind her, then the sound of a crank turning shortly afterward. Slowly, she came to the realization that Pokey was working with some short of machinery rather than preparing to harm her from behind, which let her relax a small bit. Nevertheless, she was still made uneasy by the prospect of Pokey lurking where she couldn't see him.

Then, suddenly, she heard the crank squeak loudly as it was moved, immediately followed by the rattling of the chains above her. She opened her eyes to find herself slowly descending into the pit below her.

"Wh-what's happening? Pokey, stop!" She said, making obvious the unquestionable panic in her voice. She looked down, and felt adrenaline once again rushing through her veins as her legs disappeared into the hole.

Pokey ignored her, remaining silent as he struggled to operate the old, rusted mechanism. He watched Pinkie struggle as her midsection entered the hole. He then slowed down, finally stopping when only the upper half of her body was visible. Finished with the laborious task, Pokey made his way over to the other side of the room.

Pinkie had little time to ask questions before Pokey appeared before her, wielding the rock hammer. Now that Pinkie's head was at a proper height, Pokey readied it Pinkie's skull, and Pinkie’s voice trembled as she pleaded for her safety. “Please, stop! I’ll do anything you want! Pinkie promise! PLEASE, POKEY!”

He stopped. “Is that a fact?”

A glint of hope flashed in Pinkie’s big, blue eyes as she nodded weakly.

“Alright then.” Said Pokey, putting down the hammer. “Give me a big smile.”

Although the request was rather peculiar, Pinkie complied, putting on her widest, toothiest grin for Pokey.

“You really are stupid, Pinkie Pie.”

With all the force he could muster, Pokey smashed the blunt end of the hammer directly against Pinkie’s grinning teeth. A stomach-turning crack could be heard as the hammer slammed hard into her clenched jaw.

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAGH!” she screamed. Her head flew back as far as it could go, a sharp, agonizing pain overcoming her entire body. She tasted her own blood’s metallic taste as it trickled out from between her teeth. Pinkie naturally tried to cup her hooves over her mouth, but the short, rusted chains from which she hanged only allowed her to shift them a few inches forward. Without some kind a barrier to put in between her mouth and Pokey, Pinkie Pie felt helpless, vulnerable to more abuse.

Pinkie opened her mouth to scream again, allowing small chips of her teeth to fall onto her tongue, which she promptly swallowed. The tiny chips hurt a little bit going down, but Pinkie barely noticed. She was too busy screaming from the overwhelming pain from her damaged teeth.

Pokey pulled the hammer back to prepare for another blow, and the hammer smashed into Pinkie’s teeth a second time. Another crack echoed off the walls as a second wave of unimaginable pain erupted throughout her body, which uncontrollably convulsed in response.

Pinkie’s coat was dyed red. Blood steadily flowed out of her mouth, staining her pink fur as it dripped down her body. As she screamed, more shattered tooth shards to broke off onto her tongue, this time much larger than before. She instinctively swallowed them, an action she would immediately regret.

The sharp remnants of Pinkie’s teeth traveled down her throat, pressing against the tissue of her esophagus as they descended. Pinkie let out a long, low-pitched moan as they slowly made their way down to her stomach, slicing open the sensitive lining of her throat. It felt as if a swarm of flesh-eating insects were eating her from the inside out, mercilessly tearing apart her innards.

As the tooth fragments continued their journey down to Pinkie’s stomach, Pokey was absolutely giddy to see her writing back and forth erratically, new expressions of agony adorning her face every passing second. Sensing the opportunity for a close-up, he grasped the hammer in his teeth in order to levitate the camera off of the tripod and in front of his victim’s face.

“Smile for the camera, Pinkie!” He said, making sure to capture every last bit of anguish the little mare could express. “Show me those pearly whites of yours.” Pinkie looked towards the lens of the camera and whimpered pathetically before coughing up a sizable amount of blood, some of which stuck to the camera’s lens.

“Come on, Pinkie! You can do it! Give me a big grin!”

Pinkie shook her head, trying her best to keep her lips closed as more blood quickly filled her mouth. Her cheeks swelled and blood seeped out from between her lips, unable to be contained.

“What? No Smile? I thought this was Pinkie Pie I had with me.” Pokey teased. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to convince you otherwise.” He said, setting the camera back on top of the tripod. He flipped the hammer around so the pointed side was facing her.

Pinkie gave another muffled scream as Pokey stabbed her right cheek with the pointed end of the rock hammer. The force of the swing was enough to easily puncture the thin cheek flesh, but not enough to do any serious damage to her teeth. “MMMMMMPPH!” Pinkie screamed, using all of her willpower to keep her lips closed.

As soon as Pokey removed the pointed end from her cheek, a stream of blood shot out of the hole it made, her face resembling a leaky pipe.

Pokey stabbed the same spot a second time. Unlike before, this time he moved the pointed end of the hammer around in a circle, and the purpose of the small spikes became clear as they ripped her flesh apart to enlarge the hole. The pain was soon too much for Pinkie to handle. She opened her mouth to scream, and a cascade of blood spilled out of her mouth.

“That’s better!” Pokey said, flipping the hammer around again. “I mean, it’s not exactly a smile, but it’ll do.”

“NO NO NO!” Was the only thing Pinkie could think of saying before the hammer descended a third time. Another disgusting crack sounded as the teeth on the left side Pinkie’s mouth shattered to pieces. Pinkie let out a bloodcurdling scream, which transitioned smoothly into a gurgle as blood filled the back of her throat.

Pokey didn't relent. Instead, he continued swinging the hammer into her jaw even faster, watching Pinkie's head wiggle around in agony as her teeth on the right side of her mouth were reduced to jagged stumps of bone.

Or, at least, that's what Pokey has assumed. Due to the thick blood that filled Pinkie's mouth, he couldn't actually see any of the damage he had done.

On the other hand, In an attempt to survey the damage herself, Pinkie ran her tongue across the jagged tops and bottoms of her teeth. She sobbed, both in pain and in disbelief as her mind constructed a disturbing visual image of her mutilated jaw, her tongue’s sense of touch describing to her a useless set of craggy, shattered teeth. Before long, Her tongue made contact with an exposed root, causing her to jolt forward from the sudden, abhorrent pain. “NGHH! GAHHHHHH!”

The sudden shift in her posture forced her to swallow most of the blood in her mouth, as well as the tooth shards that had been floating in it. Pinkie once again let out a series of screams as the shards sliced open her throat,though they were much weaker this time due to her vocal cords being worn out.

Pokey stepped out of the cell to allow the camera a good shot of Pinkie Pie in her pitiful state. Pinkie heard him saying something about going upstairs for a bit, but his words were drowned out by the crippling pain. After a few minutes, most of the bleeding stopped, leaving Pinkie Pie to hang there, moaning pathetically in pain.

***

About thirty minutes passed before Pokey returned, carrying a large ceramic bowl and a glass jug with his magic. “I heard crying from upstairs! Did I miss anything?” he said, fully expecting the cold, hateful look he received in return. “I know I said I wouldn’t, but I brought you some dinner.” Pinkie weakly furrowed her brow in surprise. “I need to keep you healthy after all.”

He levitated the edge of the bowl in between her lips. Pinkie looked down to examine the contents, expecting some kind of cold, molding gruel. Instead, to Pinkie’s surprise, It was filled with what looked like warm oatmeal. Steam rose off of the surface, the water particles sticking to her snout. She inhaled, and the smell of brown sugar filled her nostrils.

It was delicious.

Pinkie enthusiastically opened her mouth wide. Pokey tilted the bowl towards her face, and the warm mixture of oats, sugar, and water slid into her mouth. She did her best to redirect the oatmeal to the relatively-intact right side of her mouth, preventing the hot solution from touching exposed roots. She executed this rather successfully, although she did wince slightly a few times.

The entire bowl was soon emptied into Pinkie’s mouth, and she used her tongue to lap up the remainder before Pokey pulled it away.

Pokey did the same with a large jug of cold water. He held it up to her lips for her to drink, and Pinkie’s eyes lit up as she eagerly awaited the cold, pristine water. As soon as the ice-cold water touched her sensitive teeth, however, Pinkie screamed. She jolted forward again, causing her to ram what remained of her front teeth into the side of the glass pitcher. She hanged for a few seconds without moving, paralyzed by the pain before letting out a frustrated groan.

“Can you please heat it up a little?”

“No.” Pokey said sternly. “This water is all you get. Take it or leave it.”

Despite the fact that her teeth were throbbing in pain, this was the first water she had drank in days. Her mouth was encrusted with dried blood and dry from screaming. She had no choice but to drink it.

Pinkie hesitantly opened her mouth again, and Pokey poured the water in. She cringed as the cold water once again touched her damaged teeth. The relief Pinkie felt from satisfying her thirst, as well as getting the taste of her own blood out of her mouth, was enough motivation for her to keep on drinking despite the terrible pain.

However, Pinkie could only drink for a few seconds at once before she jolted backwards to stop the pain.

“I...I can’t...” she moaned.

Pokey ignored her, holding the water jug in the same position. In doing so, he allowed the water to flow out of the jug and onto the floor.

“No, wait!” Pinkie said, watching in horror as the precious water was wasted. She quickly moved her head back into its original position and continued drinking. Tears began streaming down her face as the pain returned.

Her eyes were shut tight, wincing as the water filled her mouth with unbelievable pain. Air bubbles diffused into the water as she screamed with her mouth submerged. Pinkie didn’t dare move to relieve the pain or even breathe, for fear of wasting more water. For her own sake, she forced herself to endure what felt like hundreds of knives stabbing her mouth all at once.

After what seemed to Pinkie like hours, she finally swallowed the final mouthful of water, and Pokey lowered the now empty glass away from Pinkie’s face. As soon as he did, Pinkie let out a terrible scream which eventually devolved into a long, painful moan.

Without words, Pokey went behind the camera and pressed a button to end the recording. Pinkie watched as he packed up the camera and left the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. While the two ponies looked at each other through the door’s small window, not a word was uttered by either of them. Pinkie continued watching in silence as Pokey turned out the lights, locked the door, and made his way upstairs.

It wasn't until Pokey was out of earshot that Pinkie Pie began crying to herself once again. She was in pain, alone in a dark, scary basement. She missed her friends. She missed her family. She missed Ponyville.

She just wanted to go home.

Author's Note

Hey! I hope you're enjoying this story! Before you continue reading, however, it's worth noting that this story was written before Marble and Limestone Pie were given "personalities" on the actual show, so please excuse the fact that their characters in this story do not reflect their canon counterparts in the upcoming chapters.