Pinkie Pie tossed and turned in her bed. Her recent nights were spent this way, sleep refusing to grace her with its presence. Those rare moments when the sandmare decided to allow her slumber were plagued by nightmares. She couldn’t recall most of them, but those that she could remained blocked. Shoved away to the deepest, darkest parts of her mind. The places where Pinkie didn’t belong. The places that were ruled by her.
Her…
Pinkie shuddered as the painful memories returned to her. The nightmares, the visions. They were relatively the same. Pinkie would be restrained, unable to move as she “played” with her victims.
It was never easy. She was so damn creative, it made Pinkie sick to think about it. She would always find new ways to make her victims scream in agony. Pinkie should’ve gotten used to it by now, but the sheer realism of the screams always made her shudder down to the bone. They sounded so real, so alive, Pinkie could swear that she was watching them die right before her eyes. Hearing them beg.
Pinkie would always wake up the same way too: in a cold sweat, shaking and crying as she tried to get the images out of her head. She never told a soul. Oh nononononono… What if they thought she was crazy? What if they decided to stop seeing her as a friend? Or worse. What if they sent her away? To one of those places that the crazy ponies went?
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Pinkie woke up in a cold sweat, her whole body trembling, tears pouring down her face as she tried to get the images out of her head. Try as she might, she couldn’t escape what had just happened. The events were forever burned into her memory. She could only sit in the darkness as the scene replayed in her mind.
She was tied to a chair in the corner of the basement, bound and gagged so she could do nothing but watch as she went to work on her next victim. This was no ordinary victim though. Normally she didn’t know the ponies that had been slaughtered, but this time she was forced to watch as her best friend was slain.
Rainbow Dash begged for mercy as she was horribly butchered. After she was done, she took pieces of Rainbow Dash upstairs. Pinkie sat in the corner for what felt like an eternity before she came back down. She held out a platter to Pinkie, and spoke. She spoke.
Pinkie heard her voice, it’s excited demeanor and bubbly patterns, urging her to try one of the cupcakes that littered the platter. But… it wasn’t her voice. Underneath all the charm and energy rang a subtle hint of death, anger, sadness. Her voice was darker, far more threatening. And it carried the subtle threats of vengeance.
When Pinkie refused to try a cupcake, her face changed. It became angrier, distorted in rage as she gave a primal yell and forced Pinkie’s mouth open and shoved in the cupcake. Pinkie tasted all the normal ingredients in cupcakes. Sugar, flour, sugar, more sugar. But her taste buds were met with a new, repulsing taste. It had a tough texture, with a bitter flavor and a raw essence. Pinkie tried to spit it out, but her mouth was forced closed by her.
“Eat it!” The angry voice commanded. Pinkie complied, tears forming in her eyes as she let the slimy, repugnant mess slide down her throat. She gagged, but nothing came out. She felt the mess lay heavily in her stomach as it churned and twisted, not wanting this new substance in it. Pinkie heard a cold laugh and felt the ropes binding her loosen. She collapsed onto the floor, shaking and dry heaving as the laugh slowly faded with her surroundings.
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Pinkie sat in her bed, shaking. Rainbow Dash… she thought, letting the events sink in.
Wait…
Her eyes widened as the weight of what had happened sunk in.
“She spoke to me…” the words came out as a whisper as Pinkie began shaking uncontrollably. This was the first time that had happened. Normally she would laugh at her as she was torturing her victims, sometimes she would interact with her. Hit her, pull her mane, gently pet her. But never before had she spoken to her. Pinkie sat in her bed, thinking about why she had chosen to communicate then.
“M-maybe a little water will help…” she shakily told herself. One glance at the darkness of her room told her otherwise.
“Th-then again…” she began, “I’m not that thirsty…” As soon as the words left her mouth her throat felt extremely dry and scratchy. As if somepony rubbed a knife all along the inside. She coughed and got out of bed.
The darkness was cold and menacing, completely enveloping her as she shakily made her way to the kitchen. As she passed the baby cake’s room, she heard a familiar voice singing a lullaby.
Hush now, quiet now
It's time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
It's time to go to bed.
A shiver ran along Pinkie’s spine as she quietly hurried past the room. When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard a faint, but all too familiar, laugh echo throughout the house. She froze in her tracks as her blood turned to ice. She searched the darkness, looking for anything that was out of place.
Two small, glowing cyan orbs retreated into the darkness. Pinkie stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to go down, but the dry sensation returned with ten times as much intensity as before. She could feel the knife scratching up and down her throat as her need for water grew. She shuddered and began making her way down the stairs.
Once Pinkie was a few steps from the bottom she heard her giggle and felt a great force shove her down the remaining steps. She hit the floor with a soft squeak and lay there, silently sobbing from the pain and fear.
“This can’t be it…”
The soft voice called out from the darkness.
“Pony up and get your damned water!”
It rang out with a familiar anger behind it. Pinkie obeyed and quickly scrambled to her hooves and ran to the kitchen. When she arrived, all was quiet. All except for the steady dripping of the sink.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound made her thirst worse, and she ran over and took an already filled glass of water and chugged it down. When she was done she set the glass back on the counter and wiped the excess from her lips. Wait a minute… she thought.
She heard another soft giggle.
“See? I can be nice.”
Pinkie sprinted back to the stairs, but was clotheslined by something stuck in the wall. When she fell, she saw it rush towards her.
She barely rolled out of the way of the knife, which embedded itself in the floor right where her neck had been. She stared at it, wondering what it was doing there and who stuck it in the wall.
“Why’d you run away?”
Pinkie quickly got back to her hooves and sprinted all the way back to her room. When she got there, she quickly and quietly closed her door and got back in her bed. She pulled the covers over herself, and quietly sobbed into her pillow. Why me? Why now? she silently asked herself.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Pinkie froze as she heard the voice, not from the darkness, not from within her, but from right next to her in the bed.
“I want to talk.”
Pinkie felt her eyelids getting heavier and her breathing slow as a dulled pink hoof crept into her view, stroking her side then silently moving up to her face. She felt it slowly and gently stroke her cheek and mane, moving the misplaced strands back into place, urging her to sleep.
Sleep…
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Pinkie awoke in a dark, torch lit room. She was immediately overwhelmed with the smell of decay and gagged. She backed away from the source ‘till she hit a wall. She looked around and saw that there was no wall… well… not one that she could see. Instead, there was a torch mounted on an invisible force. She decided to not ponder it too much and observed the rest of the “room”.
Pinkie saw nothing except the torches that hung on the invisible wall. She looked around, trying to find an exit when she heard a loud bang. Startled, she quickly turned to the source and saw that two large metal blood-stained doors had appeared. She gulped, not wanting anything to do with those doors.
“Go ahead. Don’t be shy.”
Pinkie’s eyes grew wide and she quickly whirled around, searching the area for the voice. When she couldn’t find it, she heard the all too familiar cackle of her. Pinkie looked at the doors nervously and decided that they were the only way out. She wearily walked to them and opened the first one. She felt a great force blast out of the opening, sending her flying across the room and slamming her against the opposite barrier. She fell in a heap and blacked out.
Pinkie slowly opened her eyes, groaning in pain as she grabbed the back of her head. When the world came into focus she was met with a dull gray hoof in her face. She groggily got up and looked at the owner of the hoof. There was none, just a blood trail leading to a darkened part of the room. Pinkie screamed and backed away frantically from the severed hoof. She fell on her plot and stared in horror, unable to make a sound. A manic laugh echoed through the chamber. Pinkie heard a snap, then all along the wall torches lit up, revealing the silhouette of a massive throne of ponies.
Pinkie gasped as she saw the silhouettes of hundreds of ponies piled up to make a makeshift throne. She looked around the room, it was a massive gray dungeon. Blood stained the floors and walls, signs of countless struggles were everywhere. She looked back to the base of the throne, moving her gaze up, she saw the entirety of the throne.
Glowing Cyan orbs.
Atop the throne, Pinkie saw a pair of glowing cyan orbs. She gasped as she realized who the owner was.
“Y-y-you!” she wailed as fear began to overtake her.
“Me,” taunted the voice in response.
Pinkie saw the orbs disappear, followed by the sound of bodies squishing as the owner of the throne launched off them.
She landed perfectly in the light. Her once bright and cheerfully pink coat dulled and splattered with blood. Her once poofy mane straight and dulled. Her eyes though, her cyan eyes had the same burning light within them, probably more. She slowly raised herself onto her hind legs as she stared at her frightened counterpart.
“P-P-Pinkamena!” cried Pinkie as she took in the pony before her.
“Who else?” the pony replied confidently.
Pinkie stared at her counterpart, terrified of what her next move was going to be. She simply stared at her, relishing her fear, her sheer terror.
“You know…” began Pinkamena with a chuckle, “I’m not here to kill you.”
“Y-y-you’re not?” Pinkie asked, relieved.
“No. I just want to chat.”
Pinkamena clapped her front hooves together and the throne and dungeon vanished. Their surroundings became a pale blue-green and a light fog rolled in. A table slowly materialized in front of them. Pinkamena lowered herself down to all four legs and coolly walked over. When she saw Pinkie unsure, she waved her over with a hoof.
“Come on. We’ll talk over punch.” A punch bowl and two cups appeared on the table. “It’s Gummy’s favorite,” she sang, waving a filled cup around then drinking the punch as if it came from Celestia’s private collection.
Pinkie chuckled a little at her counterpart’s silliness then trotted over to the table, taking her own cup and drinking its contents. The punch was amazing, the perfect mixture of sweetness, tanginess, and a final hint of bitterness to bring it home. She relished the taste, earning a small chuckle from Pinkamena.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Mmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm!” Pinkie nodded vigorously.
“Good. So, can we finally get to talking?”
Pinkie nodded and set her cup down, giving Pinkamena her full attention.
“Good. So, I wanted to talk about our body.”
Pinkie’s blood ran cold.
“W-w-what do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve had it for so long. I can’t remember the last time I got to play.”
“You haven’t.”
“And that’s exactly my point! How is that fair at all? You get to have fun and play with our friends whilst I rot in here.”
“B-b-but I… I…” Tears began to form in Pinkie’s eyes.
Pinkamena sighed loudly and grumbled, “I knew this would happen.” She raised her voice so Pinkie could hear. “Okay okay… Listen. We don’t have to discuss our body, yet. So what else do you want to talk about?”
“Uh… Parties?”
Pinkamena smacked her forehead with her hoof, “Ugh… so predictable.”
“Well? Parties are fun.”
“Are they now? I wouldn’t know.”
“R-r-right… sorry…”
“What do you like to do for fun?” asked Pinkamena.
“Well… I bake, play games, throw parties, and hang out with my bestest friends EVER!!!”
“That sounds… nice…” said Pinkamena, unsure of what she was hearing.
“What about you?”
“Well… I find it really interesting to see how different ponies react to pain,” said Pinkamena nonchalantly.
“Oh… uh…”
“Yeah… all you need to do is see them once in your life, just once and they’re forever stuck in here with me. Once here, I can do whatever I want to them. It’s really truly exhilarating!” said Pinkamena, her eyes sparkling. “But… you already know that. Don’t you?”
Pinkie lost her composure. She immediately began shaking, her voice becoming a mere whisper. Some of her color drained away and she fumbled her words around as the painful memories and nightmares came back.
Pinkamena scoffed. “That’s your problem. You’re too weak.”
Pinkie thought she detected a hint of malice in her counterpart’s voice, but ignored it.
“A-anything else you want to talk about?” Pinkie asked feebly.
“Sure. What are your thoughts on Nightmare Moon and Luna?”
Pinkie spit out her punch. One of the most sacred of beings in Equestria and her counterpart was talking about her as if she were nothing more than an object.
“What...what do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“Well… it’s pretty evident that even the nicest of ponies has a darker side to them.” Pinkamena motioned to the fog they were in. “And she’s already shown her nasty side. What do you think? Think we may see her again?”
Pinkie stared at her counterpart, mouth open in shock at the sheer weight of this question.
“I… I think that… um… We may have seen Nightmare Moon in the past, but that doesn’t mean that Luna doesn’t feel bad and that she doesn’t wish that Nightmare Moon would just leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Oh… Okay. I get it,” said Pinkamena, anger in her voice. “You don’t want me here. You hate me and just want me to go!”
“No! Nonono! That’s not at all what I meant I-”
“Save it!” Interrupted Pinkamena, tears beginning to form, “I thought at least you would understand me! That you would be kind enough to let me experience the outside of this hell hole of a prison for at least a day! One bucking day!” Pinkamena stood up on her hind legs, her blazing cyan eyes showing nothing but anger and hurt.
“No! I didn’t mean it like that! I promise! Pinkie Promise!”
“Pinkie Promise? Pinkie bucking Promise!?!?!” Pinkamena flipped the table to the side, spilling its contents and brandishing a large butcher knife that was hidden on the underside of it.
Pinkie stumbled out of her chair, tears streaming down her face.
“Pinkamena, please!”
Pinkamena stared at her, tears running down her cheeks.
“No. No more. I tried to do things civil, simply trade spots with you. But you were too selfish to allow me that!”
Pinkamena began slowly advancing towards Pinkie.
“If you won’t trade spots with me, then I’ll just have to take it from you.”
Pinkamena lunged at Pinkie.
Pinkie tried to scramble away, but was stopped by a piercing pain in her thigh. She looked to see that Pinkamena had stabbed the knife clean through her, impaling the ground beneath her and pinning her by it. She screamed in agony as Pinkamena gave a crazed smile.
“And so it begins…”
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Pinkie woke up strapped to a large wooden table. She looked down and saw that her stab wound was still open, but thankfully had stopped bleeding. She tried to move, but found that she was locked in place by metal cuffs. She struggled against them until her hooves started bleeding from the cuffs continuously rubbing against them. She shut her eyes tight as the pain coursed through her.
“Finally awake I see.”
Pinkie frantically searched the darkness for the source of the voice. She was greeted by two blazing cyan lights in the darkness. From the shadows emerged Pinkamena, walking in on two hooves, her cyan eyes blazing with an inner fire Pinkie only saw when she was enjoying herself the most.
“P-p-please…” Pinkie begged, pain clear in her voice. “Just let me go. I’ll do whatever you want!” She cried, not holding back the tears any more, they streamed down her face like a raging river.
“Yes… your tears. Let me see them.”
Pinkamena roughly grabbed Pinkie’s cheeks, turning her head into an uncomfortable position as she got a better look at the glistening tears running down her inferior counterpart’s face.
“Now… let’s have some fun.” She said with a sadistic smile.
_____________
Pinkie lay gasping and convulsing on the table. Her seemingly endless blood left a large puddle on the table, most of which had either soaked into it or had spilled onto the floor and Pinkamena, who stood triumphantly over her final victim.
“Thanks for the good time,” said the sultry Pinkamena, running a loving hoof down Pinkie’s face.
“Now… to end it.”
Pinkie’s spasms were interrupted by a large butcher knife running into her heart. She immediately gave off one final shriek of pure agony before laying against back against the table, her convulsions slowing to nothingness. Pinkamena watched with a gleeful smile as the last lights of life left Pinkie’s eyes.
_________________
Pinkie’s eyes shot open. She clutched her chest, an unnatural tightness in it. The arm that she held over her heart was on fire, every little move causing agonizing pain to it. Her teeth ached, and she was sweating far more than normal. All the while she was growing steadily more tired, her eyelids drooping and eventually closing for the last time...
In her final moments everything became clear to pinkie. When she passed by the baby cakes she couldn't help but admire how adorable they were. She decided to sing a little lullaby as she walked by, to help them sleep. As she neared the bottom of the stairs she flung herself off without thinking, as though somepony had shoved her. When she entered the kitchen she placed a glass under the tap to be filled. Once it was done filling up, she grabbed her favorite knife and jammed it into the wall with the handle facing in the door frame. But it wasn't her. During each of these activities, her cyan blue eyes glowed with an unnatural light.
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Pinkie lay there, dead, for several hours. Her heart had stopped, and it went out in style. Her body was cold, her coat and mane dulled and losing color fast. Once it had reached a familiar shade of dull pink her eyes shot open once more, revealing that they still burned with a fire unlike any other. She slowly put a shaky hoof over her heart and waited. A small thump resonated from within, bringing an even brighter glow to her eyes.
She got out of bed and walked over to the mirror. She stood in front of it, admiring herself before raising herself to her hind legs.
“Not bad…” She admired herself in the mirror. “But this mane style has got to go.” She combed her mane till it was nice and flat, just the way she liked it. She calmly walked out the door, eager to explore the world around her.
