Monster

I hummed a soft tune as I scattered moonflower seeds across the grass. Birds of all kinds twittered, trilled, cooed and cawed in tune as they landed on the ground in front of me, pecking at the scattered seeds. I stepped backwards, keeping an eye out for any birds that may have landed behind me. I smiled at the cute little birdies, blissfully going about their lives without a care. I sighed. If only I was a cute little birdy.

One of the birds, a bluejay named Victoria, landed on my shoulder, softly clicking and whistling. I nuzzled her. “Oh, don’t you worry about me, Victoria. You go on and eat.” I reached into a pouch that hung from my hoof for more seeds.

Victoria cocked her head worriedly at me, before flying down to the bird food. I smiled and cautiously took another step back, before picking up a few worms from the bucket beside me and tossing them at some of the birds that weren’t eating the seeds. As I reached down again to pick up a few more worms, I felt light bird feet land on my shoulder. I glanced over. “Victoria!”

Victoria had returned, mouth stuffed with seeds. She reached her head over at mine and warbled. I covered my mouth with my hoof and giggled. “Oh, Victoria. I can’t eat those. Those are for you!”

Victoria paused for a second and insistently shoved her head at my mouth. I drew my head back and shook it. “Oh, no. I already ate.” I didn’t mention that the last time I had eaten was last night.

I swished the monster's blood around in my mouth, savouring the salty, acrid taste. It tasted like victory. I hadn't known what victory tasted like before, but now... Now I knew. He was dead, and I was alive. He was dead and wouldn't be hurting me, or anypony else anymore.

The lifeless eyes of the corpse on top of me watched as I swallowed. Those eyes, formerly filled with rage and fear, now quietly lay empty and emotionless. On a whim, I licked one. It tasted bland and empty, like the shell of a stallion on top of me. I shuddered. Would that be me if he had won?

I gagged, shoving my hoof at my mouth to hold in the bile. I swallowed the tiny bit of spew that had found its way into my mouth and waited for the nausea to pass. As the urge to vomit faded, I put my hoof down and smiled at Victoria as genuinely as I could. “Ooh, looks like I ate a bit too much.”

I determinedly ignored the stares of the birds who had turned away from eating to peer at me worriedly, as I reached back into the bucket to withdraw some more worms.

I slowly turned back to face the ground near the birds, carefully dodging their gazes as I pushed my head forward and tossed a few worms to some waiting warblers. My shoulders shook as I raised my gaze to the birds themselves. Their innocent black eyes stared at me with confusion and worry as they snatched the worms out of the air, but didn’t swallow. I reflexively began to turn around for another batch of worms, but stopped myself. I was making the cute little birdies upset. I sighed and faced the distressed onlookers. “I’m sorry for worrying you all like that,” I apologized, “I just ate something bad and my stomach had the rumblies. I’ll be fine.”

One by one, the birds began to eat until they had all forgotten about me. Even Victoria was busily stuffing herself with moonflower seeds. I smiled in relief and tossed the rest of the worms, mouthful by mouthful, to the rest of the insectivorous birds.

I lay down on the ground, watching them eat. The adorable pitter-pattering of tiny bird feet bouncing around on the grass was so wonderful and soothing.  I could feel myself drifting away in the calm, joyful atmosphere.

I giggled as a hummingbird fly by. He flew high into the air, and then dove to the ground, pulling up just in time before landing next to another hummingbird. The other bird whistled, bobbing her head, before the two of them took off, continuing the mating dance elsewhere.

I grinned at the two of them. Lancelot and Guinevere would make a cute couple, I just knew it. Oh, I could just lie here forever, watching them frolic, free of fear and worry…

My thoughts were interrupted as something landed on my shoulder. I turned my head.

“Hey there, Victoria,” I whispered, nuzzling her. She chirped, tilting her head at me.

“Oh, yes. I’m better now,” I told her. Surprisingly enough, I did feel a little better. Victoria chirped again. “I know,” I said, “I’ll try to take better care of myself.” Victoria nodded authoritatively, flying up to my cheek, cooing. I patted her head with my wings. “Aww, that’s so sweet,” I told her, “I love you too.”

 Victoria flew hovered for a moment, before flying off. Taking one last look at the birds, I picked up the pail and carried it back to the river to wash it out. As I lowered the pail into the water, two familiar baby blue eyes opened up and stared at me from within the water. Calmly, I moved the pail out of the way and said, “Hello, Pinkie Pie.”

I put on a polite smile and dodged out of the way as Pinkie Pie shot out of the water, hair still poofy despite the water dripping from it. “Hiya, Butters! Check out what I can do!” She shot out of the water, gaining at least twenty feet of air, before wrapping herself up into a perfect sphere, falling, and bouncing up and down until she finally unwrapped herself and landed on her hooves. “Tada!”

I raised my eyebrows. Was it just me, or was she darker than usual? I stepped forward to examine her closer, and gasped. She wasn’t darker, she was… bluer. Blue streaks ran through her fur like blood vessels. It gave her a dark, almost intimidating appearance, until she stuck her head forward, pink tongue sticking out, her face emblazoned with a comically concentrated expression that flaunted the harmless Pinkie-ness within.

She threw her head back. “Ooh, that’s a good look you have! That forest must really be growing on you!” Pinkie shouted, giggling and pointing at my mane. I ran my hoof across my mane self-consciously. A few twigs fell down and dangled in front of my face. I yanked at them, but stopped when I felt a sharp pain jabbing my skull. I looked closer at the twigs. They were a bluish green, and seemed to trail from me like… hair. My mane was made of bark and leaves and wood. The poison joke had made me look like a timberwolf.

I ground my teeth, wiped the tears from my eyes, and turned to Pinkie Pie. “We should…” She was bouncing herself in the air again, only this time her hooves stayed connected to the ground so she wiggled up and down like a rubber band.

I walked up to her. “Pinkie Pie?” I called out.

She stopped bouncing and turned to face me with her bright blue eyes focused directly on me. “Yes, Butters?” She leaped at me and hung on my shoulder, shoving her face into mine.

I flinched and blushed at the sudden contact. “We should go and get this fixed,” I muttered, edging away from her touch.

Pinkie frowned, “Aww, but this is so fun! Lookie!” Her rear hooves left the ground and flew over me. I felt her press down on my shoulders as the rest of her body followed. “Wheeeeeeeeeee!”

I rubbed my shoulder as I turned around to see where she had gone. I froze; my hoof had brushed against something sticky. I brought my hoof in front of my face. A tiny glob of fleshy, purplish goo was smeared across my hoof.

Oh, dear.

I looked back up at Pinkie, only to find her missing. A shadow was growing at my hooves. I looked up, and saw Pinkie flying at me, eyes closed and bathed in the glow of the midmorning sun as she collided with me.

“Oof!” I stared up at the sky, wondering if I should rue the day I crossed paths with Pinkie Pie. I shook my head and dragged myself up. “Stop being such a grouch,” I told myself, “She might just be the only pony you’ll ever call friend.” I froze. Friend. I hadn’t really had one back in the flight academy. I had animal friends. But that wasn’t the same thing as pony friends, was it? Truth be told, I didn’t know. I didn’t know the first thing about having friends, other than that other ponies had them and hung out with them. Was that really what we were doing? Hanging out? Was Pinkie Pie my friend? I felt a dull ache grow in my chest as I looked at Pinkie Pie, feeling the urge to hug her and never let go.

I clutched at him, all four legs wrapping around tight as he struggled against my embrace. Tears welled from my eyes as I forced my tongue into his mouth. His face twisted as an unholy fire lit in his eyes, lighting up the room with a sultry red as we fastened ourselves against each other in the only kind of intimacy I had ever experienced with another pony. Violent as our engagement was, I didn’t want it to end. I clung tightly to him, wishing I would never have to let go. But I did have to let go. I always did.

Cold sweat poured from every pore in my body, drenching and freezing me despite the warm summer breeze. I shivered at the reminder that I was a fake. I was a wolf in the guise of a pony. That was the joke, wasn’t it? I was a wolf that murdered other wolves for the sake of the innocent animals that they ate. I was a stranger standing alone in a world that I hadn’t really belonged to for a long time, a world that wouldn’t let me go, tying me down with obligations and a burning need to be there for others. I scowled and wished that I could do something selfish for once. All it would take was one selfish act, and I’d be free…

Suddenly, Pinkie appeared in front of me, concern written all over her face. I shook my head. What was wrong with me? Of course I couldn’t be that pony. I couldn’t leave the animals like that. I was the lie that they loved and the truth that kept their lives peaceful and carefree. I couldn’t let Angel lose his family again. And Zecora would wonder where I had gone. And Pinkie…

As I stared into Pinkie’s face, as if looking at her for the first time, I realized that she was actually concerned about me. Gritting my teeth, I forced my front legs around Pinkie, who looked at me with surprise. My heart beat madly in my chest and my skin crawled at the contact. Every instinct in my body told me to let go, but I grit my teeth and leaned into her.

Her belly expanded as she sharply inhaled. I waited for the inevitable explosion of chatter, but found myself pleasantly surprised when she said nothing and simply hugged me back. I leaned against her, shuddering.

Finally, I stood up and stepped back, taking note of a small blush that had appeared on Pinkie Pie’s confused-looking face as she climbed to her hooves. Well, now I knew how to make her be still.

My shoulders were still shaking as I turned around. “We should go.”

I heard Pinkie Pie shuffling awkwardly behind me. Finally, she spoke up. “Butterfly, are you okay?”

No. No I wasn’t. But still I turned my head a little and nodded. “Oh, don’t you worry about me, Pinkie. I’m fine. I just… ate something bad.”

Pinkie shuffled closer. “Are-Are you sure you’re alright? I didn’t want to mention it earlier, but your face is…”

I nodded, turning my face away from her, hiding my bruised face behind my mane for good measure. “Oh, I was attacked by timberwolves. But—”

This time it was Pinkie Pie who surprised me with a hug. I froze as her arms wrapped around me and her face pressed against the back of my head. I felt her vibrate against my skin, and looked down to find my own hooves trembling. I looked up at Pinkie Pie. Her eyes shone with genuine worry. I turned away and looked at the floor.

“Have you ever done anything you didn’t want to do but knew had to be done?” I covered my mouth, but the question had already been asked. My head turned to face Pinkie. I could have sworn I saw a shadow pass over Pinkie’s eyes as I was turning, but when I finally faced her she was staring at me in confusion. I bit my lip. Had she figured out what I had done? Maybe I was just imagining things.

“Like cleaning up after I spill flour on the floor?” she asked innocently.

I sighed in relief. “Something like that, yes. I just… Every time I feel like I’m changing into something I don’t like and I can’t fight it and… Never mind. It’s silly.”

Pinkie bit her lip and released me. She turned around and paced around, shooting a stern glance at me. “No it’s not. And you shouldn’t think it is, either.”

I flinched. “I’m sorry.”

Pinkie’s eyes softened. “Don’t be sorry, Butterfly. I-I know how you feel.” She blushed and looked down. “I’m not always such a happy go lucky pony. Some days I feel like a rotten Saddie Pie. I just wake up in the morning and don’t feel like getting up. But I know that if I’m sad, everyone else will be sad too. So I smile, and crack jokes and do my best to put a smile on everypony’s face. And it works! When I’m around, everypony smiles and laughs. But… sometimes I wonder if they’re laughing with me or at me. If I’m becoming some comedic effect in the background that nopony respects or listens to anymore. I wonder if there’s going to be a day when I say something serious and everypony just treats it—treats me—like a joke.”

I vaguely realized that drool was leaking from my gaping mouth. I closed my mouth and swallowed. “Well, if it helps, I don’t think you’re a joke. I would never laugh at you.”

Pinkie grinned. “Well, you don’t laugh very much, do you?”

I smiled a little. “No, I don’t. But, if you feel like that, why don’t you stop? I mean, you don’t have to laugh all the time.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow and pointed at herself. “Because it’s not about me. It’s about the ponies that are happy because I’m there for them. It’s about making them happy, even if I have to walk the line between a joker and a joke.”

I shifted my entire body to face Pinkie Pie and looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to do that with me. Just be yourself. That would make me happier than any joke.”

Pinkie giggled. “I know! The thing is, I am a silly pony! I’m not forcing myself to be happy. I love to have fun!”

She leaped into the air and bounced to me. “Funna fun fun!” She landed with a small splash in her own goo.

I shook my head at the reminder and stepped forward, raising my hoof to Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie, we need to get going. You’re melting.” I held up my hoof to her eyes, Pinkie residue still stuck to it.

She looked down at it and frowned. “Melting?” She looked closer, and then back at her own body. Sure enough, a faint, but noticeable sheen of purplish blue ooze dripped down from her coat. “That’s no fun at all.”

I nodded. “We should get to Zecora’s. She’s preparing a potion to fix that.” I pointed at the Everfree Forest in front of us. “Oh, and Pinkie? Thanks.”

Pinkie Pie nodded, and we walked into the forest. As we walked, Pinkie bounced around, singing a funny song about following a yellow brick road. I had to smile at her antics, and even quietly hummed along once I got the tune down.

We reached the edge of the Everfree, where the hollow log that contained most of my worldly possessions lay. I reached in and armed myself, before looking around for some food. It had been a while since I had last eaten real food, and I had all of a sudden found my appetite again. Finding a lone raspberry bush, I plucked out its single ripe berry and plopped it in my mouth. It would have to do for now. I turned around to face Pinkie Pie, who was holding a cupcake up to me in her hoof. The sound of my stomach rumbling echoed through the forest.

Pinkie Pie beamed, “Sounds like somepony’s stomach has the rumblies! But don’t worry, Doctor Pinkie Pie has your cure right here!”

I smiled gratefully at her and took the cupcake, eating slowly so I wouldn’t throw it up later. When was the last time I had eaten a real meal? Yesterday morning? Had it really a full day? I felt my stomach heaving. I didn’t feel that hungry anymore, though. Still, I really needed to take better care of myself.

I turned back to Pinkie Pie, who was beaming at me. I opened my mouth to thank her, but I couldn’t find the words. I settled for hugging her again and mumbling, “Thank you.”

Pinkie grinned. Her smile caught a stray beam of light that cut through the canopy above us and shone through the darkness. “No problemo! Just doing my job.”

We walked on through the forest, until the sound of a twig snapping made me spin my head towards the sound. Glowing green eyes appeared in the underbrush, staring at me. I groaned. “Not this again,” I muttered. I pulled out my daggers and tensed for a fight.

“What’s wrong?” Pinkie stared at me in confusion.

“Timberwolves,” I replied without taking my gaze away from the glowing eyes in the underbrush. I waited for the timberwolves to approach, but they didn’t move. Tense moments passed. Tension turned to confusion. “What are they waiting for?” I muttered, taking a step forward. The timberwolves didn’t react. This was new. I didn’t think timberwolves were alive enough to try anything new. I turned to Pinkie. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this.”

Pinkie froze, and then guiltily hid a bag of popcorn behind her back. She nodded, garbling something unintelligible that I hoped was assent as she swallowed the popcorn in her mouth. I turned back to the timberwolves. They had disappeared. I looked around, but no trace of them remained. A cold sweat broke out along my back as we continued onwards.

As we trotted to Zecora’s hut, the looming shadows in the forest bore down on us, filling every step with the possibility of danger. We slunk from shadow to shadow, terrified out of our wits. I turned to Pinkie Pie. She was bouncing along through the trees. I shook my head. Okay, maybe it was just me.

Crack!

“Pinkie!” I hissed, flinching.

Pinkie turned to me, oblivious. “What’s up?”

“We need to be quiet.”

“Oh, okay!” Pinkie half-shouted, before blushing and covering her mouth with her hoof. “I mean, oh, okay,” she whispered. She made no attempt to stop bouncing. I opened my mouth to scold her, but quickly noticed that she wasn’t making a sound, in spite of her hooves still crushing down on the crunchy detritus. I shook my head and mentally filed the incident along with the rest of Pinkie’s mysteries.

I blinked, warily darting my eyes around the forest. I had allowed myself to be distracted, yet the timberwolves hadn’t attacked. I focused on listening for threats, but for some reason, I found myself less twitchy, less anxious. I glanced at Pinkie Pie. Had she planned that, or was Pinkie just being Pinkie? I shook my head and kept moving.

Finally, we arrived at Zecora’s hut. I knocked on the door, Pinkie standing right behind me. The door opened, revealing Zecora. “Welcome, my dears.” She smiled as she turned to me, her sharp eyes seemingly piercing through me as I hid my face behind my ligneous mane. I gulped and smiled back, pawing at the floor. Zecora held up a paw to examine my mane. “Say to your fears: nevermore, for in my lair lies your cure.” She beckoned us in with a wave.

I gulped. I really wished she wouldn’t call it her lair. Nonetheless, I peeked my head inside and looked around. Creepy voodoo masks stared down at us from twisted wooden walls. Bubbling flasks hung from the ceiling, suspended by twisted thorny ropes that twitched as if in suspense. Low whispers from dark corners of the room echoed through my mind, but when I raised my ears to listen closer, all I could hear was silence. I gulped, reminding myself that this was all completely normal, and that Zecora was a nice pony. I listed to myself all the times she had taken care of me when I was sick or injured. I frowned. That had been quite a few times, hadn’t it? Zecora had been nothing but nice to me, and here I was judging her home just because it was a little strange. Pushing back my fear, I stepped inside.

A massive cauldron in a shallow pit in the middle of the room was filled with a clear liquid that appeared to be… water. I stepped closer to examine it. Zecora’s hoof shot in front of me, blocking me. I glanced at Zecora. She was holding up a familiar bubbling flask with her free hoof. I reached out and grabbed it in my mouth.

“These new bruises upon your face I cannot dismiss. Would you tell me how you got them, young miss?”

I froze. I reflexively moved my mane over my face, before reluctantly recognizing the futility of the gesture. I sighed, putting the flask down and opening it. The bubbling stopped almost immediately, and I poured the liquid across the worst of my injuries. I grit my teeth, almost breaking the flask, as a sharp pain erupted wherever the liquid touched and my wounds slowly began to knit themselves together.

“I—ow—ran into some timberwolves again,” I didn’t quite lie, feeling Zecora’s disapproving gaze and my own guilt burning through me. I knelt next to the flask and poured the rest into my hooves. Ignoring the pain, I spread the rest of the healing solution, which had now turned into the same paste I had used yesterday, over the rest of my wounds. Gasping, I pushed the flask back at Zecora. She pushed it over to the side and turned her head to Pinkie.

“Your name is Pinkie Pie, if my memory does not lie?” Zecora tilted her head.

Pinkie Pie nodded, tilting her head to match Zecora.

Zecora nodded, and said, “Though you may seem unwise, you at least tell no lies.” Looking away in shame, I bit my lip and swallowed my guilt. By now it was almost natural to me. Tell a lie, swallow the guilt, and repeat. It would all come crashing down, I knew, but what else could I do when the truth would only hurt them?

“Futile as the cause may be, may I request you care for her safety?” I glanced back at her. “I have known her since she was a little filly. Her emotions can make her a little silly. Away from danger she will not steer, but I will always hold her very dear.” Zecora smiled fondly at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pinkie nod and raise her hoof to her forehead in a salute.

Turning my head to Pinkie, I pushed myself to my hooves. A puddle was growing underneath her. She was somewhat shorter than she was before, and a whole lot more blue. I cleared my throat and determinedly promised myself to make it up to Zecora. Yet in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder whether that was a lie too.

“We need to start working on the poison joke antidote,” I asserted, forcing myself to look Zecora in the eye. She glanced over at Pinkie Pie and nodded. Reaching into a cupboard, Zecora pulled out a book and flipped it open.

Not bothering to turn around, she ordered, “You gather the gourdian-knot, and I will go heat up the pot.” I nodded. We got to work, slicing, dicing, stirring, and shaking all sorts of ingredients into the cauldron. Finally, the antidote was done, and Pinkie and I stepped inside.

I glanced over at Pinkie, who had been surprisingly quiet the whole time. Her eyes were darting around as if she was… scared? I prodded her shoulder. She jerked, eyes wide, before her eyes landed on me. She exhaled. Her mouth quickly curved into a smile, but her eyes told a different story. I patted her shoulder.

“It’s alright to be scared,” I told her, “I was terrified the first time I came here. I had been attacked by timberwolves, and Zecora found me and brought me back here. The first thing I saw when I woke up was that.” I pointed to a wall filled with voodoo masks.

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, Butterfly. I’m not scared of Zecora. She’s a really nice pony. And she put me in a stew! I’ve always wanted to be put in a stew!” I shook my head. I really didn’t want to know. Pinkie leaned in towards me. “It’s just… do you hear it?”

I flipped my ear up and listened. Nothing. “Hear what?” I asked.

“Don’t try to think about it,” Pinkie whispered, “Just listen without thinking. It goes away when you try to think about it.”

I put my hoof up and concentrated on it, trying to think about anything else. But I couldn’t hear anything. Just the usual—oh, right.

“You mean the whispering? Like there’s an itch at the back of your mind that goes away whenever you pay attention to it?”

Pinkie wiped her hoof across her brow in relief. As her hoof lowered, I saw it was stained with a considerably pinker purple than before. “Yeah! Just like that! I thought I was going crazy!”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry,” I assured her, “Zecora says it’s just part of the wards that keep out the bad things from the forest.” I ran my hoof across my mane, feeling the bark turning soft and crumbling at my touch. I sighed in relief. I looked back at Pinkie, who was staring out the window. Her breaths were shallow and her lips were pursed. I frowned.

“They’re very strong wards,” I continued, “Zecora said that it would take something as strong as the Princess herself to break them. You’re safe here.”

Pinkie nodded, smiling. “Oh, that’s good,” she said, pushing a strand of hair back into her mane. She still looked a little nervous, though.

I bit my lip. “Well, if there’s anything you need…” I looked down. “I’d be happy to help,” I finished. I took a deep breath and released it. “It makes me happy when you’re happy,” I admitted.

I could see some tension leaving Pinkie’s back as she burst into laughter. “Oh, Butterfly,” she said between snorts and giggles, “Never change.” I cocked my head at Pinkie Pie, confused.

As Pinkie’s laughter subsided, she looked at me with an odd expression on her face. Pushing her mane out of her face, she bit her lip and asked, “Butters?”

I nodded for her to continue.

“I know that you don’t like parties,” she began. My eyes widened. “But the Summer Sun Celebration is in two days, and it would mean a lot to me if you came.”

I cuffed the ground with my hoof. “The Summer Sun Celebration?”

Pinkie nodded furiously. “Yeah! It’s not like a party party, but more like a celebration party, where no one is judging anypony, and you don’t even have to talk to anypony just be there and everything will be fine and I’ll be extra quiet if you want and we can just watch the sun rise and it’llbejustthetwoofus! Ohmygoshwecaneatcupcakesandsingsongs! Ooh! Maybewe'llhaveateaparty—”

Pinkie babbled on, but I couldn’t really make out what she was saying. I didn’t really want to know. Every word she spoke made it sound even more perfect, and with every word she spoke the unease in my gut grew.

“It would mean a lot to you if I came?” I echoed, the words chafing against my numb mouth.

Pinkie nodded again. “Yeah! I was part of the team that did all of the decorating and—” Here she leaned in close, whispering into my ear with a hoof covering her mouth like she was about to reveal a big secret. “—spoiler alert: Princess Celestia herself will be there to raise the sun! It’s going to be amazing!”

I tried to back up, but found my back already pressed up against the wall of the cauldron. “Oh? Princess Celestia’s going to be there? That’s nice.” My hoof leaned over the cauldron’s side as I tried to escape. I reached my other hoof over, but hit the side, slipped, and slammed my face into the cauldron.

“Glub…” I burbled as I sunk into the cauldron. I held still. Maybe I could just drown myself? It would be faster, and a lot less nervewracking than being watched by hundreds of ponies, among whom would be royal guards, policeponies, and Princess Celestia herself. Then I shook my head as I realized I had just considered drowning myself to avoid a party. I felt myself being dragged out of the water.

“BREATHE!” I heard Pinkie shout, before I felt her hooves press hard against my chest. I spat out the antidote I didn’t even know I had swallowed and heaved. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I rubbed the antidote away from my eyes and opened them. Pinkie looked down at me, concerned. I coughed and waved her away.

“You know, if you don’t want to you could just say no. You don’t have to drown yourself,” Pinkie joked. Her smile didn’t quite reach her face, though. I bit my lip.

“Oh, I’d love to,” I began. Pinkie’s face lit up, and I felt my heart physically ache from the effort it took me to continue speaking, “but I can’t.” My eyes were looking at the walls, the ceiling, the slight discolouration in one of the masks from an accident a few years ago—anything that wasn’t Pinkie. “I have to—um—feed the animals.” I glanced back at Pinkie.

She was beaming. I could feel the unease in my stomach turn to dread. “Don’t you worry about that,” Pinkie said, nodding in triumph, “I knew you wouldn’t let them go hungry, so I made sure that some ponies would take care of them while you’re away! One is even a nocturne, so she’ll take care of the owls and stuff!”

I forced a smile on my face. “Oh, well—”

“I also made sure that some guards would be posted near them to protect them from the meanie forest monsters. And I told all of the town about what a nice pony you are so none of them will be mean to you. And I picked the quietest seats in the house so you’ll be extra comfy. And there’ll be lemon flavored cupcakes: your favorite!”

I couldn’t decide whether it made me happy that Pinkie Pie had planned all of this, or I should be terrified that Pinkie had planned all of this. How did she even know I liked lemon flavored cupcakes? I hadn’t eaten one since I was a filly!

I grasped at one final straw. “Don’t you have other ponies to celebrate with? I’m not a very interesting pony,” I said, pawing at the ground.

Pinkie Pie raised an eyebrow and inhaled deeply. And then kept inhaling. I looked at her in alarm as her belly expanded like a balloon. Finally, she spoke, “Applejack is going with her family as usual and so is Carrot Top, Lyra and Bonbon have a thing going on and I would just get in the way, Thunderlane and the rest of the guys are going together as a guy group doing guy things and I’m not a guy or a stripper, Ditzy and I can’t be in the same room for more than five minutes before we start arguing about whether muffins or cupcakes are better, Flitter and—”

Pinkie kept talking, but all I was paying attention to was the way she spoke without taking a breath. Her words were an endless stream that seemed to spill from her slowly deflating belly. I vaguely wondered how long she could keep it up. Maybe I should time her the next time she did it. I was sure she was breaking some kind of record. Maybe she would never stop talking and the Summer Sun Celebration would be over and—

I felt a hoof touch my shoulder. I looked up. Pinkie was grinning at me.

“And if you think you’re not an interesting pony, you must think we wrestle dragons all day! You live in a mysterious forest, have a not-evil enchantress for a friend, and pick fights with timberwolves! Come on, you’re like the most awesomest ninja wizard I’ve ever met!”

I sighed. “I’m not a ninja—Oh, forget it.” I turned my head to the side, but made the mistake of letting my eyes wander back to Pinkie. She was pouting at me, her big blue eyes shining like pools of anticipation and joy. Her lips quivered, and I felt mine quivering in resonance.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

I broke. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say no. Not when she had put in so much thought and effort into it. Not when she was counting on me. Not when she was so happy, and saying no would make her so sad. I knew she would be devastated when I was dragged off to prison. But that would be in two days. Now, she would be able to smile for a few more days. So I broke.

“YES!” As Pinkie shouted and hugged me, the feeling of dread in my stomach intensified. It was as if there was something niggling at the back of my mind, trying to warn me of something terrible, something that I was missing.

“Ohmygoshthisisgoingtobesuperamazingfunneriffic! I’m so happy I feel like I could explode! I can’t even hear the whispering anymore! It’s like the time I ate two hundred cupcakes and they had to catch me with a net after I knocked Applejack’s barn over—”

I blinked, eyes widening in horror. I didn’t hear the whispering either. I concentrated on Pinkie’s face and tried not to think. Nothing. I glanced at the door, and then at Pinkie.

“Pinkie?” I whispered.

She was still babbling.

“Pinkie!” I whispered louder.

“—but I just bounced into Cheerilee’s class and shouted, ‘Cupcakes for everypony!’ and they all just started screaming—”

I sighed and hugged Pinkie. She immediately stopped talking, a dazed look on her face.

“Pinkie, I can’t hear the whispering either,” I told her.

Pinkie frowned. “Didn’t you say—”

I interrupted again. “Shouldn’t Zecora be back by now? She said she was going to collect some more absinth.”

Pinkie stared at me blankly, obviously not recognizing the plant.

“There’s a patch of it a little bit away from the hut. It would only take about ten minutes to get it and come back,” I explained.

Pinkie gulped. I stepped over the cauldron’s walls—carefully, this time—and strode over to the window. I grimaced as the bark left in my mane chafed against my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pinkie leave the tub. Taking a deep breath, I peered out of the window and gulped.

“Pinkie, you should see this.”

As she strode up next to me, I counted the pairs of glowing green eyes I could see in the forest.

“One. Two. Three… Six. Seven—wait.” One pair of eyes was cyan, and wasn’t glowing. I squinted, and made out a hooded equine figure wearing a cloak standing in a dark clearing in the underbrush. The figure put a hoof up to the hem of its hood, as if about to reveal its face.

“TWITCHY TAIL!” I heard Pinkie shout, and felt her body smash into mine, throwing me away from the door. A split second later a cracking sound followed by a loud “BOOM!” crashed like thunder through the room. Smoke entered my nostrils and choked them with its acrid texture. Fire danced across my vision as I groaned and pushed myself up.

“Pinkie?” I called out, looking around. The door had exploded inwards, tipping the cauldron over and spraying liquid everywhere. Potion ingredients littered the ground, rocked from the walls in the blast. Pinkie lay on the floor next to the entrance, rubbing her head with her hoof. I rushed over to her.

“Are you okay?” I asked, checking her for injuries. There was a small bump on her head, and she fumbling around, struggling to stand. I put my hooves on each of her cheeks and stared into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated.

“Pinkie, you need to lie down. Don’t move, okay?” I wrapped my hooves around her, holding her still. “I think you might have a concussion. Just lie down and relax, okay?”

“Iss so pwetty…” Pinkie slurred out, hoof reaching out towards the burning remains of the door.

Fire was spreading from the still-burning door, fueled by the assortment of flammable potion ingredients that were now scattered across the ground from the blast. Tongues of flame slowly devoured the wooden cottage Zecora had called home, the ingredients she had braved the forest to collect, and everything else she had ever called her own.

One object in particular caught my eye. It was a book, the book Zecora had taken out when we were making the poison joke remedy. It was the book of plants and potions she had spent years painstakingly writing. It was Zecora’s life’s work. My eyes narrowed, and I sprinted over to it. Something exploded, splashing me, but I kept going, eyes never leaving the book. I heard something roaring behind me and dropped to the ground, feeling a ball of fire scorch the air above me as it flew by. It hit the wall in front of me, exploding and hurtling the book in my direction. I raised myself up and dived for it, grabbing it in my teeth just as it was about to land in the fire.

Turning back, I sped back to where Pinkie Pie was lying. The fire was getting closer. Putting the book down, I whispered into Pinkie’s ear, “Can you walk?”

“I’m not a filly anymore!” Pinkie grumbled, tottering to her hooves. She stood steadily for a second, before tilting over. I caught her and slung her over my back. She moaned and rolled, almost tipping over.

“Pinkie Pie,” I pleaded, trying to push her back into place with my wings, “Please just stay there. If you’re good, you’ll get ice cream, okay?”

Pinkie stilled. “Bubble gum?”

“All the bubble gum ice cream you want,” I promised, lifting my head to the door and peering out.

“You’re the best, Bongo,” Pinkie murmured, “I’ll never leave…”

I lifted my ear and raised my eyebrows. A flash of red caught my eye and I shoved my head back inside just in time for another fireball to scorch the edges of my furs as it passed by. It slammed into the back of the hut, blowing a hole through it. I gulped. Taking a deep breath, I stuck my head out of the doorway.

“WE SURRENDER!” I shouted so loud that the words ripped at my throat. I coughed and stuck my head back inside, and listened. A familiar roar rushed by my side as another fireball blew past.

I sighed, and slumped down, coughing from the smoke. I had two options. I could cross the fire with Pinkie on my back slowing me down, trying not to choke on the smoke, or get myself blown to pieces by a fireball, or trip and drop Pinkie into the fire, or run into a dead end. The other option was to drop Pinkie, turn around, head outside, beat the timberwolves and the insane unicorn, and then rescue Pinkie Pie before the hut collapsed on her. All I would have to do was fight six timberwolves and a unicorn who was as powerful as Celestia herself, and beat them in a matter of seconds with no weapons, tools, or help.

I kicked the ground with my hoof. It was all just so hopeless. I stared into the fire. Pinkie was right. It was kind of pretty. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to die to something so beautiful.

I coughed. Of course, the smoke would probably get us first. I put my nose as close to the entrance as I dared, breathing in what would probably be one of my last breaths. A cough from behind me shook me out of my reverie. I looked back. Pinkie was still breathing in smoke, and wouldn’t last much longer.

I shook my head. No. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. I eyed the hole the fireball had made, and the creaking ceiling, and the fire spreading across the room. The hole was just big enough for the two of us to fit through. The ceiling… hadn’t fallen down and crushed us yet. That was something. I could barely make anything out from the smoke, but it looked like the poison joke antidote was acting as a fire retardant, clearing just enough of a path for me to cross.

 I stuck my nose out for one last breath of “fresh” air, before picking up the book. Gritting my teeth, I ran for it, wings straining as they held Pinkie stable on my back. My hooves moved like molasses under Pinkie’s dead weight. Tears and smoke stung my eyes and fire licked at my fur. I heard something crashing behind me, but didn’t dare turn around. A roar alerted me to an incoming fireball, forcing me to leap out of the way. I screamed as my hoof landed in something that sent a white hot lance of burning agony through it. I pulled my hoof away, falling onto my side. Something in my wing twisted, and Pinkie rolled away from me. The book fell from my mouth into the liquid. I gasped in agony and exhaustion, falling on my face, listening for the inevitable roar that would spell my doom.

Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.

I turned around. My vision blurred, I could barely make out a figure in the smoke. I coughed, and sobbed out, “Please! Whatever I did to you, Pinkie’s innocent! Let her go!”

The figure didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she spoke, her voice so cold it sent shivers down my spine. “Is this the great slayer who has struck such fear in my darlings? Oh, my. How their strength has waned under the burning light of Celestia’s precious sun.”

I clutched my singed hoof and whimpered. The figure stepped forward, the fire around her extinguishing itself as she moved. I trembled as I felt a chill wind move throughout the room, extinguishing the fire and revealing the charred bones of what had once been Zecora’s hut. A glowing blue aura emerged from the figure, swirling around like a maelstrom, crushing me under its force.

The figure stood above me, silent amidst the maelstrom. Finally, she spoke. “Truly, though. I expected something more. Perhaps what you need is motivation.” She stepped past me, now standing above Pinkie Pie.

I struggled to my hooves. “No…” I gasped out, hobbling towards her on three legs. A cloud of blue smoke billowed out from under her cloak, engulfing Pinkie. I flapped my wings, slowly forcing my way through the wind, desperately trying to reach her. The smoke engulfed Pinkie, lifting her into the air and over the cloaked mare.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear Fluttershy,” the mare said, spinning Pinkie around herself like candyfloss.

I flinched. “How—” I put my hooves to my head. “I’m not—” I stuttered, crawling away from her. “I’m not Fluttershy! Who’s Fluttershy?” I giggled hysterically as I crawled to my hooves and ran. My hoof landed awkwardly on something and I tripped. Landing on a pile of charred ashes and burnt wood, I found myself instinctively digging into it, trying to hide.

The mare spoke as if I hadn’t said anything, “I would not harm an innocent pony… too much. To be sure, I would never kill one.” I looked back at her. She turned her head to face me. Something sharp slid its way across my neck. “It’s my belief that a pony should reap what they sow. You’d know all about that, of course.” Scorn filled the cyan eyes that burned in the inky blackness covering her face.

Icy fear flooded my veins as I stared into the eyes of the reaper. There was no mercy or pity within, only scorn and death, and the only thing I knew at that moment was that I wanted to live. I plunged my head into the pile, ignoring the splinters piercing my body and the ash entering my lungs as I tried to burrow into it. I was an eyeless, brainless worm, devoid of thought as I squirmed my way into the ground, my only purpose being a desperate struggle to maintain my own existence. My hoof hit solid wood and I kept digging, too deep in panic to even comprehend the futility of the effort.

“Digging your own grave? Pathetic.”

Something yanked at my tail. I coughed as I was dragged out of the heap. I was pulled up until I hung upside down, eye level with what I had come to realize was Death herself. I flapped my wings and clawed at the ground with my hooves to no avail. I was foaming at the mouth, and I couldn’t see through my own tears.

“Please—I’m sorry—I’ll never kill anypony again—I never wanted—Let me live—I don’t want to—No—I’m sorry!”

I felt something in my throat and released it, feeling it spill over my face and into my mane. The apparition snorted in disgust.

“Stay still and be silent, you disgusting wretch! ”

I was thrown back onto the floor, where I collapsed, not daring to move. My belly ached, and I dry heaved, covering my mouth to be as silent as possible.

“Rise, worm.”

Once again, I forced myself up, almost falling over as pain cut through my injured hoof. I didn’t dare look up.

“Kneel.”

I threw myself down, bowing as low as I could. Heavy footfalls circled around me like a timberwolf circling its prey. Unable to help myself, I let out a whimper. A cold breath caressed my cheek, and I felt my head being turned to face the one that had released it. I closed my eyes.

“Look at me.”

I sniffed, and opened my eyes to Death. Her cold, cyan eyes stared into mine, impassive and unfeeling as the black void that held them.

“I will make you a deal.”

My ear flopped up. I opened my mouth. Death’s eyes narrowed. I closed it.

“If you take it, I will spare you—” she began.

That was all I needed to hear. “I’ll take it!” I blurted out.

“—and kill the pink one instead.”

I froze. I could feel Death smile triumphantly from behind the veil of shadows. The darkening blue mist around Pinkie Pie crept along her neck like a noose.

“Will you take the deal?”

My shoulders shook. I closed my eyes again. “You said you wouldn’t hurt Pinkie,” I said.

“I’m no murderer. I won’t harm a hair on her mane,” Death replied. I opened my eyes. Her mocking, crimson eyes bore down on me. “I can’t speak for my timberwolves, I’m afraid,” she drawled. “They do get hungry, you see—”

I screamed, throwing myself at her. I stretched out my wings to grab her neck, but was stopped midair by the reddish blue mist that wrapped around my body like a cocoon.

“Will you take the deal?” the monster in front of me repeated.

I snapped my teeth together and growled. “Pinkie hasn’t hurt anypony! You said you wouldn’t hurt her! You’re a liar!”

It stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “And you’re a murderer. Will you take the deal?”

I snarled, straining against my bonds. I spat at the monster’s cold, red eyes.

“I’ll take your life, you monster.”

It shook its head. “I offer you one more chance to live, my little pony. You may still experience life’s pleasures. All you have to do is offer a life in return. Do you really hold that obnoxious clown’s life in higher regards than yours?” Contempt dripped from its voice like a poisoned knife.

I sneered. “I’m a murderer. But you? You’re sick. You enjoy hurting ponies, don’t you? You say you don’t hurt innocent ponies, but you burned down Zecora’s hut. You gave Pinkie a concussion. What did they do to deserve it? You’re nothing but a monster, just like me!”

My skin was being torn off by the cold wind blowing through the room. Thunder crashed and lightning struck the walls. The ceiling was bending down and collapsing down on the floor. “That’s a no, then,” Death remarked coldly, her voice devoid of emotion.

“You can go to Tartarus with your deal! Pinkie’s worth more than the both of us,” I spat.

Icy cold spread through my body. I tried to take a breath, but I couldn’t move my mouth. I couldn't move my diaphragm to inhale. I couldn’t move anything. A cold claw gripped my heart and squeezed. My vision was fading to black, and I couldn’t feel my hooves. I was dying, I realized.

I tried to fight it. I tried to live. I tried to say something, anything to keep living. The last thing I heard before everything faded to black was a whisper.

“It seems the moon shall have her night, after all.”

I opened my eyes. Was I alive? I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and looked around. I was in Zecora’s hut, but it was normal. There was no fire. There was no wind. There was no Death. There was a wall filled with creepy voodoo masks, though. Then I remembered that was normal. I rolled over. Pinkie was lying facedown on the floor next to me, sleeping. I lifted my head. Zecora was lying next to her, asleep as well.

I raised my eyebrows as Pinkie muttered something about bubble gum and rolled over.

“Was it all a dream?” I asked, lifting myself up. I wanted something to drink. My fur was soaked with sweat, and the hoof that had been injured in the dream ached with phantom pain.

“If that was what you consider a dream, child, then I would be very interested in visiting your nightmares.”

I froze. Slowly, I turned my head around. Death was sitting by the fireplace on a table with a box of chamomile herb, napkins, a pitcher, a teapot, a tea saucer and a teacup. A kettle whistled behind her, next to the lit fireplace.

Death lifted the cup and took a sip. “Would you like some tea?” she offered. I shook my head. I was still dreaming. And even if I wasn’t… I looked around at the untouched hut, and Pinkie Pie and Zecora sleeping peacefully on the floor. Alive. Unhurt.

“Would you mind?” I asked, moving over to the sink and washing my wings. “My throat’s a bit parched,” I added.

Death shrugged. “Your screams were quite exuberant. I imagine that would be the cause,” she explained.

I opened a cabinet and pulled out a tea saucer and cup. “Oh,” I replied, “That would explain it then.”

I put my teacup on the table and sat down, placing a napkin in front of me. I looked up at Death. She had looked so much taller than I was when she was standing over me. As I looked at her now, she still seemed to be considerably taller than any pony I had ever met, maybe even taller than Princess Celestia. I looked down.

“Do you prefer your tea strong or weak?” she asked, picking up the teapot.

“Dying puts me in the mood for something strong,” I replied. I blushed. Oh, that was rude of me. I shouldn’t have mentioned death at a tea party. But then, it was a tea party with Death. It would be rude not to. I frowned. This was a conundrum.

Death filled my teacup with tea. “Oh? I apologize for killing you. Your words hit a bit too close to old wounds, but I suppose you couldn’t have known. Sugar? I’m afraid I couldn’t find any milk or lemon.”

“Oh, yes. Lots, if you don’t mind,” I replied, absentmindedly. Was this spectre even Death? Now that I thought about it, wouldn’t Death be a murderer too? Death was the main cause of death, after all. But then, I didn’t know anything about this pony. She might not even be Death.

The spectre-who-may-or-may-not-have-been-Death dropped a few cubes of sugar into my tea, and then sat back, sipping hers.

I frowned, blushing. “I’m sorry for being rude, but you seem to know my name, but I’m afraid I never caught yours.”

“Oh? And who do you think I am?”

My blush deepened. “Well, I—um.” I turned away. “I’m sorry. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

The spectre shook her head. “You would not believe the things I have been mistaken for. I have even been mistaken for a wheel of cheese before. I’m sure you’ll do better.”

I blinked at the equine figure of cloaked darkness. “I thought you were Death!”

She laughed. I blushed, hiding my face behind my teacup as I pretended to sip my tea. Finally, she stopped.

“Yes, that is quite common. Mistaken, but quite common,” she said, before sipping her tea.

I raised my eyebrow, intrigued. “Who are you really, then?” I asked, putting my teacup down.

Not-Death slammed her teacup down. “Now? I am but a ghost of a millennia past, an old mare’s tale used to frighten children,” she spat bitterly, hooves pushing down on the table. I scooted back in my chair.

She sighed, pushing herself back. “I am not Death,” she continued, “Merely one of the dead. If you wish to give me a name, for now you may call me Shade, for that is what I am, until my power grows strong enough to reclaim what was mine and what I am owed.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning in closer.

Shade didn’t speak for a while. Then she briskly shook her head. “Enough about me,” she said, “Let’s talk about you, Fluttershy.”

“Me?” I asked, leaning back even further. I turned around. Pinkie and Zecora were still sleeping. I sighed in relief.

“They won’t wake until I let them,” Shade said.

I turned back to Shade, not knowing how I felt about that. I did feel very calm, considering the circumstances. I looked down at my tea. Had I been drugged? “Okay,” I ended up replying.

“I have been watching you, Fluttershy.”

“Okay,” I repeated. My body felt a little numb. I put a hoof to my chest, sighing in relief when a steady pulse thumped into my hoof. It was a little weak, though.

Shade sighed, picking up the teapot and refilling her teacup. I looked down at mine. It was almost empty. Shade held the teapot in my direction. I pushed the cup forward, let her fill it, and then pulled it back.

Putting the teapot down, Shade spoke. “There is much that I know about you, and so much more to learn.”

I coughed. “Why do you want to know about me so much?” I asked. “Um. If you don’t mind me asking.”

“There is one thing I would like to know about you,” said Shade, ignoring my question. I tried not to frown, and partly succeeded. “Bears eat fish. Birds eat worms. I have yet to witness the death of a bear or a bird at your hands. What makes my timberwolves so evil that you take special care to kill them?”

I blinked, and shifted my leg slightly away from the table.

“They’re not alive. I mean, timberwolves are just magical constructs. I didn’t think anypony would miss them,” I began. Shade’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I was wrong,” I said hastily, trying not to get killed again.

“They’re my magical constructs, dear,” Shade informed me. She took a long sip of tea, her eyes never leaving me.

I could feel the air in the room picking up, and backed up in my chair. “How was I supposed to know! And why did you make them in the first place? They don’t eat! All they do is kill!” I burst out, “They kill the innocent animals in the forest. They kill the ponies that get too close. They killed Angel’s family! I watched Balthial die in my hooves because a timberwolf tore out his throat and left him to die! It would have gotten me too if Angel hadn’t shown up! And for what? They don’t even eat what they kill!”

I was shouting. Shouting was impolite. Being impolite would get me killed again. I should stop shouting. I took a deep, shuddering breath, took my front hooves off the table, and sat back down. Feeling somewhat nauseous, I breathed in and out deeply as I counted to ten. Finally, I opened my watery eyes and looked at Shade.

“Well,” I began, “Um, what I’m trying to say is that I might have been angry, and um—” I sipped my tea, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry for killing your friends,” I ended lamely.

Shade was pouring more tea into her cup. She didn’t offer me any.

“Will you continue to kill them?” Shade asked, setting the teapot back down.

I opened my mouth to say no, but no sound came out. It was a lie, and the both of us knew it. I sighed. “Will they continue to kill innocent animals?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be. I slid my rear hooves from under the table and got ready to run.

Shade quaffed her tea like it was hard cider, and shook her head. “This isn’t what I came here to talk about.”

I fought the urge to sigh in relief. Shade gave me a look as if to say, “This isn’t over.”

I nodded slightly.

“I came here to offer you an opportunity,” she said, “You see yourself as a protector of the weak. You kill those who prey on the weak, after all.”

I said nothing.

“As you should know, there is a criminal syndicate in Cloudsdale known as the Rainbow of Light. They sell hard drugs: moon dust, Smooze ooze, Tirek’s tears, and the like.”

I nodded. Even as a filly, I had heard whispers of that gang. They were supposed to be the biggest gang in Cloudsdale. The meanest, too. I picked up my teacup and took a sip.

“But what does that have to do with me?” I asked, “I’m not—”

“They’re coming to Ponyville. ”

I grimaced. “How do you know?”

Shade’s eyes narrowed. “Because they’re already here.” A small flask floated up from under the table, carried by Shade’s magic. I picked it up and examined it. It was filled with something that looked like blood. I sniffed it and gagged. It smelled like fire and rotten eggs.

“Tirek’s tears,” Shade explained, “A well known steroid. Whoever drinks it will have their strength and endurance greatly increased. However, it eventually turns the user into a violent and hateful shell of their former self. I found a pony trying to sell it to a foal at the local elementary school.”

I dropped my teacup. It landed on the ground and shattered. “Who?”

Shade shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Take her out and she’ll simply be replaced. You need to sever the head of this group.”

Blue mist poured out from under the table, whipping around the room in a storm of magical energy. I stepped back in alarm as from the smoke appeared two ponies. One was a lavender unicorn mare with a purple and pink mane and a cutie mark depicting a purple star surrounded by five white stars. The other was an amber unicorn mare with a crimson and yellow mane, and a cutie mark depicting a half-red half-yellow sun reminiscent of Celestia’s cutie mark.

“Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer,” Shade introduced, pointing at them in turn, “Celestia’s proteges. I have reason to believe that one, or perhaps both of them is a high ranking member of the Rainbow of Light, and is behind their decision to move to Ponyville.”

The mist receded, and the unicorns shimmered and disappeared with it. Shade stood up and walked over to me. Leaning her head in, she said, “They will be in Ponyville until the Summer Sun Celebration ends. I suggest you act quickly.”

I looked at her, eyes wide. “What do you want me to do? Why not just tell the police?”

Shade laughed, stepping away. “You want me to accuse perfect little Celestia’s perfect little proteges of being involved in high conspiracy looking like this?” She spat out Celestia’s name like a curse. “Me?” she continued, “Hah! You’d have better luck than I, murderer!”

I blinked, finally understanding. “No,” I told her.

She turned back towards me. “No what?” she hissed. A cold wind began to swirl around the room.

“I’m a murderer. That’s why you picked me, isn’t it?”

Shade stepped back. “What?”

I shook my head, but quickly stopped, feeling dizzy. I wobbled on my hooves. Taking a breath, I stared at Shade as sternly as I could. “You want me to kill Celestia’s apprentices. I don’t know what your issue is with Celestia, and I don’t care. Tonight, you’ve done nothing but lie and hurt and play twisted mind games. I’m having a very hard time trusting you, Shade.”

My fur stood up from the static in the air. A loud boom split the air and something crashed behind me. A low growl rose from under Shade’s cloak. I stood my ground. “I’ll take your tip into consideration. Please go.”

Shade stalked over to me until I could feel her ice cold breath bearing down onto the top of my head. I felt something crawl up my throat and swallowed it back down.

“Please go away,” I thought at her.

“You have no idea to whom you are speaking, foal. I was not lying when I told you about her apprentices. You will kill one of them for Ponyville. And then, you will kill the other for me.”

I could feel myself being lifted up until my face was level with the darkness that hid hers. “You’ll do your best,” she drawled, “unless you want to see Ponyville rot and burn, knowing you did nothing to stop it.”

I was thrown backwards onto the floor. I rubbed my nose, breathing shallowly. I closed my eyes and tried not to vomit. Inside my mind I screamed. GOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAY!

“Talk to a pegasus named Rainbow Dash. Tell her Shade sent you,” she said, her voice a faint echo bouncing through my mind. I turned back to her but she was gone. I collapsed, pressing my face against the floor, dry heaving.

“Maybe poison,” I muttered, forcing myself onto my back, “Shock?” My vision was blurring. I saw something pink moving in my vision, and heard shouting. I turned my head to the side, trying to remember what to do, but couldn’t think through the fuzziness in my head. Something grabbed my face, and turned it until I was blearily gazing into Zecora’s face.

“I lied about the timberwolves,” I muttered. I didn’t know why I said it. Why now? It didn’t mean anything anymore. She wouldn’t even know what it meant. “I lied about a lot of things,” I continued. “I’m sorry.” I could hear Zecora respond, but her words lost their meaning as they disappeared with me into darkness.