COME ON. DASHIE!

by Nordenfelt

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Pinkie Pie, Random
Length: 1188

After committing the horrid 'Cupcake' murders, Pinkie D. Pie was locked away in Canterlot mental facility. While in the hospital, she under went many therapy sessions and more violent methods of getting her back to the sane.

After twenty years of therapy, she is finally allowed back into normal society, no memory of the murders or Dash in her mind. No one in Ponyville remembers her, so she goes back to Sugar Cube corner where there are new owners. After a month of working there, they ask Pinkie to try to open the basement...

Published 2014-01-10 16:30:08 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-10 16:30:08 UTC

No point in hiding!

And as I put the combination lock in my hooves, which was rusted and rough as a century old plow, memories flashed before my very eyes. Seven-six-six-four-three-seven my eyes rocketed around in their sockets looking at the floating numbers, floating away like bad memories. I felt a chill and turned, only to see multiples of myself walking past me. They were all carrying different ponies and all of them over my shoulder and asleep. What an odd- (Come on, Dashie! Just a little nimble. We've done it before!) My own voice echoed through my head. Dashie?! Who's Dashie?! I was shaken at my voice, the numbers and my ghostly clones but, shakily, I opened the lock and creaked open the basement's old door.

As I let the door hit the wall, the smell of old air and rusty metal erupted from the basement. Choking, I stepped back flailing my hoof in front of me as a desperate attempt to get rid of the smell. I put my hoof in front of my nose and started going down the cellar. With my hoof in my face, the smell wasn't any better it just gave me courage to keep going. Every step was met with a creak as the old basement stairs stuck to each other with an old, what I could only guess to be, dried syrup or a cake mix or something that would even be down here.

As I reached the end of the stairs, I looked around as far as I could see there was nothing, all covered by a blanket of darkness. I shattered around the air for the string for the light that it probably had. My hoof hit a piece of string which immediately rocketed over, I left my hoof sitting there waiting for it to come back. As it hit my hoof again, I pulled down on it, having a few single light bulbs illuminated the area; it was like a nightmare.

I backed away from the clones of me moving, the numbers floating, the names of tools I never even heard of. In the middle of the room was a dentist chair, clad in red and white, and next to it a wheeled table with metal tools on top.

(Come on, Caramel, I'll-)

(Come on, Sweettooth, I'm-)

(Come on, Noteworthy, I've-)

(COME ON, DASHIE!)

"no, this isn't real!“ I screamed at the top of my lungs, sitting at the end of the stairs, head in my hind legs and tears streaming like confetti. "You aren't-"

A voice spoke from behind another shroud of darkness. "Come on, Pinkie!"

"You aren't real." I sobbed into my legs, hoping what ever had called was just a memory.

Of course it wasn't. "A'wwww," it said with a sarcastically sad hum to it. "Don't wanna play with your old pal Dashie anymore, Pinkie?"

I didn't even respond, I just sobbed and sobbed. I was making the coat on my hind legs wet and matted with tears.

"Come on," I heard it take a step. It didn't sound normal, it sounded like brittle cobble on a pathway. It made a small cracking sound with it's step as a rotting tree branch would when it snaps, it was sickening. "Let's go see, Applejack or Twilight?" It's voice was venomous and sharp.

I finally had a chance to revolt against the oppressor. "NO!" I tried to threaten but it lost it's power within my tears and my mortal terror.

"A'wwwwww," it chimed again with it's slither of hatred. "Why not?"

"You're not real! You're not real! You're not real!" I repeated, head still in my legs. My hooves over my ears and I was rocking slowly back and forth.

"Oh," another step. This one wasn't cracking, this was metallic and hollow. "But I am as real as tools," I heard one of the tool slid off the metal tray. "And as you." I didn't even have to stop sobbing to know it was grinning.

"Please, just leave me alone!" My voice coldly choked by my tears.

"But," a cracking step echoed. "I'm," with every pause in it's speech, I could hear it gleefully step. "Having," the rotted stick of a hoof sounded. "Fun!" It shouted in tune with the hollow thud of an iron hoof.

"One two three," I rhythmically sang, trying to calm my nerves, my head was clicking as it moved up slightly. "I shall save me. Four-"

"Oh, please! You are nothing more than a two bit murderer!" It screamed, it's voice filling with rage.

My tears stopped flowing, my bloodshot eyes widen and I stood up. I had snapped. "Oh shut..." In front of me was an abomination of metal, flesh and horror. "Up." I whimpered.

My eyes tried to hide the image from my mind but it was too late. The thing that stood before me could barely be called an abomination, it was worse. The once bright blue that had shone before was now dried and tired, it's colours going transparent. The hair, once a spectrum of happy colours, now streaked blacks and greys. The eyes, one was decaying and had become a sphere of Black Death, the other a shivered eye with a grey iris. Where her cutie mark would be was a makeshift steel plate and her hoof the same.

"No!" I screamed, pointing a hoof at it.

(Shush Dashie. It will be all over soon!) her voice echoed through her head again.

"Shut up!" I bellowed, holding my hooves to my head, trying to use pressure to get the thought out.

(ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!) A young filly's scream, ran through my mind as I put pressure on it. I dropped my hands in bewilderment and had dumbfounded look plastered across my face with tears down my cheeks.

The abomination just giggled, taking a sickening crunch of a step forward. I finally noticed the tool in it's hand. It was a butcher's knife, caked in blood. The blood was old and dried, sickeningly brown.

"No!" I screamed again, the scream still running through my head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..." I trailed off. Sobbing.

As I sobbed, the abomination merrily skipped over to me, still brandishing a knife.

(Come on-) My head began to ring again.

(Come on-) It echoed.

(Just-)

(Just-)

HIT HER! the thought erupted, in my mind the thought's voice was more gruff and angrily toned than most but my body opened and punched the chaotic mongrel in the jaw. My hoof went through her head as if it was gas, the evil face didn't even change, it just grinned.

As the evil face grinned, an eruption of pain was caused in my side. As I looked down in panic, the brown blade was stuck in my side, deep red blood gushing out. My colours were getting paler and paler, I tried to punch her again but to no avail; passed through like dust. As I fell to the floor in my final moments, 'Dashie' started to walk back into the darkness with one last evil grin before being consumed by the shadows.