Maggots and Apples

by MegatronsPen

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Pinkie Pie, Gore
Length: 17861

What if Pinkie Pie never met the other elements of harmony, and never left the rock farm? What would happen if Pinkie Pie never got her cutie mark? What if Pinkie Pie found laughter and joy in darker paths?

Pinkamena Diane Pie was born on a rock farm, where she achieved her cutie mark one fateful day in an attempt to cheer up her rather boring lifestyle with a bit of harmless and murderous fun... And grew up to be one of Equestria's most infamous and elusive of serial killers.

Despite her run of brutal killings and twisted acts of torture throughout the land over many, many years, she was eventually caught red handed by none other than the recently ascended Princess Twilight Sparkle; whom along side the Royal Sisters Celestia and Lunar, sentenced her to life imprisonment; to rot away inside a maximum security facility.

Pinkamena, or Pinkie as she likes to call herself, confesses to her crimes a day before she is carted off to the infamous Rainbow Factory for processing to none other than her recently assigned psychiatrist Fluttershy, to whom she recounts the various murders and the tragedy of a mad mare in love.

Of course, nothing goes according to plan... after all, the truly sick and twisted can never be cured.

(Much thanks to the ever faithful Grammar Nazi for the help on this Fic: TachyonicBow)

(This is loosely based off of the Cupcakes, Rainbow Factory and Researcher Twilight Universes. My own Alt Universe/blend of the three, but one none the less. Go look the original authors up for these separate universes, for their original work is the best grim-dark/dark shit out there.)

I do not own the pic. I don't know where I found it.

Published 2014-02-24 04:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-31 01:39:52 UTC

Patient #85

The heavy creaking grunt of the iron door was only a prelude to the thundering slam and wall shaking tremble as the portal locked into position, creating a series of mechanized noises; clunks and clicks behind the two mares as they made their way down a long, narrow and dimly lit corridor.

The hallway, much like every other room of the facility, was painted clinically white and immaculate in its disinfected state. Even the air itself was filtered yet tainted with the stench of sterility, as if rubbing alcohol had been applied to every surface.

The two mares - adorned in matching white coats - remained silent as they passed one-way windows either side of the corridor, where within the secluded rooms were revealed various types of ponies in varying states of mental instability. From stallions and mares who silently screamed beyond the glass veil, seemingly at nothing, to other, more violent subjects striking out at the empty space around them; thrashing their hooves in the air and bucking wildly as if something ravaged them with some kind of eternal onslaught of a fevered and manic euphoria.

However that was hardly the most disturbing of patients here in solitary confinement, for it was the younger foals and fillies locked in various similar psychological dystopias that were perhaps the most unnerving, and soul-crushing to witness. They were merely children and yet they too were subjected to the same treatment of incarceration as their elders, without compromise or remorse.

To the two mares that ignored the visages of the insane around them, this was but an everyday routine to which they had long since grown cold towards, as the instability and wild actions of their patients was nothing more than an ironic normalcy to their everyday lives.

The silence between the two was broken upon coming to the very end of the corridor. They once again arrived to greet another solid steel door guarded by yet another armed stallion who regarded both mares with the critical eye of a sentinel who has seen too much to care. His strong countenance regarded the identification badges hanging about the approaching mares’ necks with a moment of scrutiny, then, with the merest of nods, he swiftly moved to open up their unfaltering path into the high security wing upon confirming their rite of passage.

“Thank you,” chimed both mares to the orderly, one meekly and youthful, the other with an authoritative and mature tone.

As they entered yet another long corridor that arced to the right, the door once again was securely locked behind them.

Finally, the yellow coloured pony on the left spoke first to the other mare, breaking the uneasy professionalism.

“I-is it really necessary to keep the patients under this much security?” asked the softly spoken mare, her eyes looking into each and every window they passed with a pity that only deepened every time she glimpsed a child within. The elder of the patients was given no such remorse, however, for she knew they were perhaps far more dangerous than their younger counterparts.

The white mare to the right nodded her head, completely assured of her conviction towards the matter; completely confident in her response to the younger doctor.

“These are not patients, Miss Fluttershy. Those in this end of solitary confinement are sick and twisted ponies whom society and justice demands should never be allowed to see the light of day. They are all either rapists, murderers or the socially inept; ruffians, vandals and activists against the peaceful ways of the system. They do not deserve freedom, for they abandoned that right the moment they committed their crimes.”

“B-but they are ponies, too, Miss Readheart. S-surely there must be something we can do for them? Rehabilitate them back into society, where they can live normal and happy lives. Aren’t we taught sometimes to reach patients we need to give them some kind of affection, maybe give them some kind of incentive to work towards? Isn’t that what we swore to do as psychiatrists? To help them?”

Although Fluttershy argued as the voice of ponyitarianism, she could not help but agree with her superior on some of the facets.

Redheart scoffed, “You knew full well what you signed up for when you wanted to work at this facility. If they fail to pass the trials of their psychological examinations at any point; if there is no improvement to their mental stability since their internment here - then they are shipped to the Rainbow Factory where they will be made of a better use. It is a waste of valuable resources to keep these kinds of ponies alive if they are nothing more than a lost cause to society...”

She gave a sad glance to her meek compadre, “it is the way of things here, Miss Fluttershy. I know you want to help as many ponies as you can. You are a kind and gentle soul and that is why I agreed to your application despite your lack of experience. We need a pony like you on the team that isn’t cold or clinical like the rest of us, but many of these…” she paused to find the correct terminology, “monsters, don’t need or even warrant your good intentions. They are rabid animals that needed to be tended to before being put down. Nothing more.”

Fluttershy paled, but nodded nonetheless. She had known for a long time about the Processing Facility and its purpose since joining the staff here almost one year ago. She was sworn to secrecy on the matter, never to tell another soul about this facility’s true purpose as a glorified holding pen.

Allegedly, all the incarcerated were guaranteed a successful rehabilitation if a minor felony was committed, while others that dabbled in rape, murder and other such heinous crimes were given a life sentence with no hope of release, where they would grow old and die within this facility’s walls…

However, even for those who were promised release, there was no escaping the inevitable truth that it was all a bold faced lie. If they arrived with even some of their mental faculties intact, they would assuredly leave mumbling fools of lunacy, which was more than acceptable to stamp them as dangerous to pony society, and thus perfect candidates for the Factory.

There was no escaping the Processing Facility. Once you enter, you never came out again - regardless of what they had done. Their fate was sealed the moment they were escorted in, like cattle to the slaughter.

The Rainbow Factory was the next step from the Process Facility and it was a simple, callous solution to an overpopulation problem of prisoners that was the brainchild of Princess Twilight Sparkle.

It was a win-win situation: it would rid the scum of Equestrian society, while assisting in maintaining Cloudsdale’s production of rainbows - which historically had been declining over the centuries, due to the inefficacy of the original raw material.

If it was not Princess Twilight Sparkle’s genius invention that extracted the latent magical properties that was inherent in each pony to fuel the Rainbow Factory’s complex machinery to produce a product that was a magically spectrumed, concentrated metamaterial that far exceeded the original primary resource of magic, the chances were rainbows would had become an endangered and rare phenomenon that nopony would ever have the pleasure of experiencing.

All in exchange for pony flesh, blood, colour and above all else, the magic that was extracted from their cutie marks. All of it would be drained away to fuel the beautiful spectrums that created the rainbows of Equestria regardless of the severity of their crime.

Foal. Mare. Colt... it mattered not.

A crime, was a crime no matter the severity.

Their crime would be transformed into something anew.

Something honest and true.

Something…

Beautiful.

It was a corrupt and twisted system and Fluttershy knew that. But it kept Equestria peaceful and free from the scum that could incite rebellion, or anarchy. It was to protect not only the ponies, but to protect the Sister Goddesses, Lunar and Celestia’s iron rule.

The quiet mare knew that this was for the good of all Ponykind… So why did she feel so uncomfortable about it?

Why did she feel that this was somehow wrong…?

Why did she feel that there was something fundamentally disturbing about this whole facility, and terribly wrong with how she was quite content in working here: despite knowing the terrible truth.

What would happen if Equestria found out about the true intentions of these facilities?

Fluttershy dreaded to think of the unrest it would cause.

A job was a job, after all.

She was just playing her part in the whole scheme.

Just another brick in the wall that was easily exchanged for another. A fact to which Fluttershy dreaded to think how replaceable she truly was.

“This is a Priority One order from Princess Twilight Sparkle herself. Now, the Princess has given us the authority to do as we please with Patient Number Eighty-five; as she is no longer of any use to her. The patient is to be shipped out tomorrow to the Factory providing our reports are in favor,” Redheart spoke to break the silence as they rounded a sharp corner, the floor sloping away from them as they delved deeper into the Processing Facility. “However I need to warn you. You must be careful. She is perhaps the most dangerous individual in all of the facility, so you best never let your guard down. All you need to do is go on in, talk to her, profile her, deem her unfit for rehabilitation and simply leave. Such a bleak report will satisfy the Princess, as she is eager to have the mare destroyed… For your safety as well, Patient Number Eighty-five has been restrained to her bed so she will be unable to reach you providing you remain in the chair that is securely fastened to the ground.”

Redheart paused and gave her a cautious glance, “and you must never - and I mean never, cross the line indicated on the floor between you. Is that understood?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Good.” Redheart stopped before a windowless holding cell with a heavy steel door that displayed a copper plaque that simply read in embossed black letters: ‘Patient #85’.

“I will be returning to my office in the meantime... Go there once you have the report you need to ship off this crazy to the Factory. A statement of her guilt would be preferable, however she has maintained her ignorance thus far in regards to her crimes. I am sure you have read the reports on the matter, but I can only hope we can get something out of her before she is put to death.”

Turning, Redheart moved back the way they came, leaving Fluttershy to regard the door with a trembling sigh.

Fluttershy watched Redheart leave out of her peripheral vision, still unsure if she wanted to enter the confinement of a patient not only infamous, but terrifying.

She had read up on the previous reports of other colleagues on the patient and studied heavily on how to deal and manipulate with this one’s particular brand of emotionally explosive psychosis before coming here, but even now she felt ill-prepared and afraid.

No, not afraid… She was terrified of the... creature that lay within.

Summoning her courage with an audible gulp she approached the steel door and moved up to the console located next to the portal, pushing her unique barcode on the back of her ID card up to the flickering red scanner located there. Soon after, a resounding clunky click indicated that the door had become unlocked, as internal deadbolts automatically slid open.

Curling a hoof around the now ajar door, Fluttershy pulled it open and entered, mustering a professionalism and smile -however slight it was, into a bright and cheerful facade. “G-G-Good morning! How are you today P-Patient Eighty-Five?

“Do you always stutter?” The response took Fluttershy by surprise, somewhat startling her and halting her entrance.

“W-well, no… But I am feeling quite excited today. We get to do your monthly report and see if you are eligible to the release programme we—”

“Oh. Goodie. I hate stuttering Mc’Stuttersons. You just need to relax a little, okay? I won’t bite.”

“O-okay…” Fluttershy swallowed hard as she moved to settle her flank into the chair located just before the door that automatically closed and locked behind her seconds later upon her entrance.

With the warning given by Redheart firmly within her conscious, she nervously regarded the stark red line on the ground inches away from the chair between she and the mare, and made with absolute certainty her rear hooves were tucked away under the furniture as far from it as possible.

“Um…” Fluttershy reached a fore hoof into her jacket’s breast pocket, and withdrew a Dictaphone, setting it to record and settling it down upon the ground between them, just behind the indicated line.
“The time is fifteen-oh-one, and this is Doctor Fluttershy, reporting on Patient Eighty-Five’s monthly psychological update. To start, would you like to introduce yourself for the record… If you don’t mind, that is?”

There was no response.

The unnerving silence only served to make the yellow pegasus shift uncomfortably on the chair.

“Um… Could you—”

“Do you like sweet things? I love sweet things - I could really go for some for some hard candies right about now: I love hard candies - especially the ones with the sour sherbet inside. It makes your face all scrunchy and in-pain-looking when in fact it is really quite nice!”

“Um… Well, I-I suppose. But I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“What kind of sweet things do you like? What’s your favourite? I bet yours is jelly beans. The green kind. The ones that tastes like apples.”

Fluttershy cleared her throat and reasserted her tone into a more authoritative demand, “P-Please could you state your name for the record.”

“You stuttered again. Geez, you really need to relax. See? I’m relaxed.”

The yellow mare frowned, “Stop avoiding my request and speak your name, Patient Eighty-Five. Please? It’s only good manners.”

A dark chuckle sent the hairs on the back of the yellow mare’s neck to stand on end, “That sounds more like a command than a request, even if you said please. Didn’t your Mommy ever tell you to ask politely? It’s rude to demand something of a pony like that while looking at her with a frown… Didn’t your Mommy ever tell you that smiling is always the best way to get somepony to do something you want them to? Or... Is Mommy ashamed of you, Fluttershy? Were you a bad filly when you were growing up, and made Mommy frown, instead?”

Fluttershy’s ears flattened against her head as a hoof moved up to push a way a lock of pink hair, “Could you… P-Please?”

“No.” Came the brisk reply from the mare in the corner of the room.

Seated upon a plain rather Spartan styled bed, the pink mare appeared quite content to sit cross legged with her back fully arching, staring at the wall as she did so.

“I noticed the moment you walked in that something was funny about you. Not the kind of ha-ha funny, but… Funny as in something isn't quite right about you. I think you are liar. Just like the rest of them. A big meanie that picks on poor defenseless ponies like me. Maybe you should be the one in the straight jacket and not me? Maybe you’re the criminal here.”

Opening her mouth to retort against the rather personal assault. Instead, Fluttershy restrained herself and relapsed into a professional tone and expression.

“I just want to help you, Pinkie. I want to make you better—we all want to make you better.”

“Then you can start by shutting your pie-hole and start answering my questions silly filly! Then maybe—juuuuuust maybe I will answer yours, okie? I super, duper promise…”

The pink colored mare twisted her body, the straight jacket groaning in protest with the sudden movement of her turning frame as she glared a wide, manic sapphire eye over her shoulder at the yellow pegasi between a crack in her dead straight pink hair.

“Slit your throat, hope to die… Stick a cupcake, in, your, eye…?” She grinned manically, and then giggled merrily, “And no one… And I mean no one breaks, a Pinkie Promise... Ever.”

Author's Note

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Promises

Fluttershy observed the insane pink mare from her perch, quite content in studying that single eyed gaze that unblinkingly stared at her for what seemed like an eternity.

There was something attractive behind that sapphire eye as it remained affixed over that shoulder; as crazed and bloodshot as it seemed. It possessed a kind of soul that appeared just as much tormented as it did merrily lost in its maelstrom of psychotic merriment.

As if the greatest of parties – or perhaps the most depraved of orgies, coalesced and formulated a vivid movie behind its crystalline structure.

The pegasi momentarily appeared at a loss, shaking her head from side to side as she was forced to blink her drying eyes.

How long had she been staring at the mare? She could not quite remember.

How was it that such a twisted individual could bring about a state of curious tranquillity within her, simply by looking into the mare’s eye? It was an odd sensation—as if free falling into a pit of intrigue where the walls were made of barbed wire and razors and yet despite the peril she seemed... Elated in her descent.

There was more to this Pinkamena Diane Pie than the reports led on.

Clearing her throat again, Fluttershy mustered every ounce of willpower to remove her gaze from the hypnotic mare’s eyes and looked down at the Dictaphone that waited patiently to record what she needed to send this murderer away to her demise.

At such a thought, a flash of guilt crossed the yellow mare’s face. But it was short lived. She steeled her resolve and ignored her morals, and found the courage to finally speak; albeit, rather shyly at that.

“Toffee… Um… I like toffee.”

“SEE!” The pink mare exploded into fanfare, giggling ecstatically as she fell back to lay upon the small hay covered bed, rolling from side to side as best she could without falling off, flailing her free rear hooves into the air as she bellowed out a mirthful laughter as if she was just told the greatest joke in the world.

The mare was rendered almost unable to breathe as she spoke, “was…” Pinkie gasped and sputtered as she struggled to come up for air, “Was... that hard? It wasn’t… was it?! S-silly! No… No harm done… was it?!”

“Well no, but I’m wondering why you would ask in the—” The pegasi had little time to finish her retort over the loudly giggling mare that rolled about the bed like a little filly lost in rapture.

Confusion turned to terror for Fluttershy as the pink mare’s face scrunched from her gleeful expression into a fierce scowl; spittle almost frothing at the pink one’s mouth as a beastial snarl and screech pierced the cell, echoing achingly against the thick concrete walls as Fluttershy let out an equally high pitched scream.

The insane pink haired mare in a shocking whirl of blinding almost supernatural speed shot up from her bed without warning and galloped at full speed the short distance towards Fluttershy, her teeth bared and her eyes wild with a macabre fire that only demanded one thing.

Bloodshed.

Fluttershy’s scrambling wings quickly sent the yellow mare up and over the chair, her hooves back peddling her to the door once she came into contact with the ground moments later.

Her flank collided with the cold steel door, watching in abject horror as Pinkie came right up to the aforementioned forbidden line that must never be crossed.

The warning from Redheart went both ways it seemed, for as the pink mare had reached not one hoofstep next to the line, did her entire body suddenly seize up; stopping her dead its tracks.

Each and every muscle in Pinkie’s body erupted into a violent convulsion; the seemingly magically infused straight jacket flaring into life as the merciless snap and crackle of an electrical shock coursed through and assaulted the mare’s body.

Pinkie Pie screamed in agony and surprise as her back arched, her bodily functions and inhibitions releasing itself as a fresh stream of hot urine trickled from between her legs and pooled below her. However, as she screamed, her face was alight with an odd kind of glee as her tongue lolled from her mouth and spittle flowed free from the tip, her lips curled into a wide almost blissful contortion.

After several seconds of being rooted to the spot; uncontrollably urinating until the stream was but the merest of trickles, the jacket activated yet a secondary magical effect and threw the debilitated form of Pinkie Pie back through the air as both jacket and the forbidden line became both ends of the same repelling magnetic polar, causing the pink mare to collide violently into the wall just next to her bed

As the electrical shock continued its attack on the crumpled pink mare, Fluttershy had remained transfixed on the scene with her bulging eyes laced with pinprick tears of fear just threatening to ooze out of the cyan corners.

As a few more seconds passed, Fluttershy panted out her shaken breaths, but relief did manage to cross her features once she had realized she was unharmed and quite safe from the murderous intentions of Patient Number Eighty-Five.

A moment of concern did come to Fluttershy watched the continued deterrent disable the patient into a mumbling wreck of blissful drool, piss, and agony, and after a few more seconds, the shocking effects subsided and left a convulsing Pinkie Pie on the ground groaning and whimpering.

Fluttershy calmly returned to her seat and took a deep, deep breath. “Your name. For the record, Patient Eighty-Five. Please.”

“Uuuuurgh… That, really, realllllllly huuuuuuurt…” The mass of pink whined, “That was… W-was reeeealllllly mean…”

“Name,” Fluttershy narrowed her eyes, swallowing hard; quite shocked at herself as her demanding authoritative tone almost bit back at the murderer nastily, “now.”

“Pinkie Pie… P-Pinkamena, Diane Pie… Urgh… For someone who likes sweets,” Pinkie begun as she struggled to push up her weakened state to a kneeling posture, using her muzzle and shoulders to press and pull against the wall to achieve it, “You’re a big f-fluttering meanie…”

“Please… Please don’t do that again, Pinkie. I don’t want to see you hurt—I really don’t. I’m here to help you not to hurt you…”

Although… She knew that was not the case. Fluttershy had to lie to keep the patient ignorant to the truth of her impending demise.

How many has she sent to the Factory now under similar false pretenses?

Too many.

But this face?

Thismare?

It saddened the pegasi to know that she felt it, but Fluttershy had little if no remorse for the infamous baker of Ponyville. Deep down, she knew Equestria was better off without her kind and it almost sickened her to think the pink mare was best executed as swiftly as possible.

Licking at her dry lips, Fluttershy continued with a nod, “I thought we could talk. M-Maybe about your childhood?”

“Pfft,” Pinkie scoffed a chuckle, rolling her eyes as she sat facing the seated mare, her long pink hair dangling before her half grinning, sweat ridden face; a trickle of blood leaking from her nostrils that was caused by the rather unceremonious landing moments ago.

“Reeeaaal original, doc. Do you want to hear about how my childhood was full of sad faces and poverty on the ol’ rock farm? Do you want to hear about when my Daddy came home from work and he would beat me and then…” She paused, smirking darkly, “Then told me to lick and suck his candy cane otherwise he’d beat on my sisters if I didn’t?”

Pinkie Pie leant forward, her smile slipping away as her voice dropped into a monotonous whisper, “want to know they he made me fuck my own sisters and forced them to eat my shit?”

“Okay then…” Fluttershy glanced around the cell, as if the answers she sought for were somehow written on the concrete walls. The pegasi pointedly ignored the insinuations and the mocking tone of the crazed mare, knowing full well that she was an artist in avoiding the question with lies and over-exaggerations.

But how much of it was true? Was Pinkie Pie masking the truths amongst the lies?

Fluttershy wanted to find out, but she knew she would get nothing concrete from the mare. Instead, she sighed, and responded with a simple question that has thus far not been spoken by the other psychiatrists.

Not that the other doctors got this far.

Perhaps Fluttershy was on to a breakthrough?

“What about, Applejack?”

The question as simple as it was, caused Pinkie’s lips to form a tight line, her half lidded sapphire eyes gleaming with a dangerous stare at the other mare as her words were spoken slow and thoughtful.

“What about her?”

“You said you were her friend, right? Or… Am I mistaken…?”

Suddenly unable to look at Fluttershy in the eyes; unlike what she had been doing for the past twenty minutes, the pink mare had gone eerily silent, and rather unresponsive.

“Pinkie Pie?”

The pink mare muttered under her breath something vaguely incoherent, which caused Fluttershy to lean forward.

“I’m sorry Pinkie Pie, um, c-could you speak a little louder? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Pinkie’s muzzle sneered, revealing teeth as she barked back her words to Fluttershy with a restrained growl. “I don’t want to talk about her. Ask another question."

“But… Why? It seems like the name causes you a lot of emotional distress. Is there any reason for that?”

The sneer dissipated swiftly as Pinkie’s body relaxed, her heart bleeding within her chest at the mere mention of the farmer’s name. The mare’s breathing even quickened in shallow gasps, as if someone had filled her lungs with hot dirt.

Pinkie’s nostrils wrinkled at the acute scent of ammonia rising up from the puddle of urine she had pissed out earlier, and responded with a pouting expession.

“B-because it hurts… And I don’t like it when I’m sad. It hurts when I’m sad. I don’t like it…” Pinkie’s sapphire eyes lifted at Fluttershy, as if daring her to continue the interrogation despite meeting with a set of cyan hues that looked upon her rather sympathetically.

“Do you want to make me sad, doc? Because if you have read up on my time here, you know full well what happened to the last big meanie that turned this smile upside down.”

Fluttershy nodded, “Y-You broke an orderly’s nose, bit off his ear, and snapped his right foreleg in two before assaulting your previous psychiatrist.”

At the bleak retelling of her actions, Pinkie’s eyes rolled back into her head as an erotic groan escaped her throat, her tongue slithering out as she licked her lips in a rapturous glee.

“Such a shame the others got to him in time. He crossed the line that bit too much when he asked all the wrong kinds of questions! I suppose this is why I have to wear the jacket when I get visitors now, huh? But boy-oh-boy I really wanted to bite out his throat and drink him up dry,” the pink mare chuckled, her tone swiftly dropping flat as she spoke her next few words with a rising smirk, “Such a same I had no milk to hoof—I could had made such a nice milkshake from him… Yum-yum-yummy in my tummy wummy!”

Pinkie paused, then frowned, glaring aside, “But where would I plug in the blender?”

Fluttershy sighed, “Stay focused, please. You are avoiding the question again, Pinkamena.”

“PINKIE! My name is PINKIE PIE you feather brained SLUT! Call me that again and I will rip out your pretty little eyes and garnish them on a cherry bakewell!”

Fluttershy shook her head and moved to stand up next to the chair. She dipped down her muzzle and picked up the Dictaphone, her eyes looking sadly at the mare as she deposited it into her coat's breast pocket. “Then… If you are not willing to let me help you, then I will have to end the session here and come back at a later date… I am sorry I could not be more of a help, Pinkie. I’ll show myself out, if that’s okay?”

That’s all I need to send her to the Factory… I kind of hoped I could get something out of this…

As the yellow pegasus moved to depart, a hoof moved out to swipe the back of her ID card onto the scanner, but paused inches away when she heard a startling, faint sob rise up from behind her.

Confused, Fluttershy glanced back at the pink mare, who was openly weeping with her muzzle pressed firmly against the ground, having flopped over into the fetal position, her hooves wrapped about herself.

“W-wait,” Pinkie pleaded, “don’t go. Fine... Fine. I-I’ll talk just… P-please, don’t leave me here alone. I’ll… I’ll tell you everything… I-I can’t take it anymore. I just want to go home back to m-my friends and… I don't want to be alone... I want to smile again... I want to be with... Applejack.”

A smile came across the yellow mares lips as she placed the Dictaphone back down besides the line, and moved to return her flank into the chair.

“Okay… I promise, Pinkie. If you tell me everything, I swear I’ll…” She swallowed away the lump in her throat; the nausea of the lie she was about to state, piercing her to the very core of her morals, “I promise I’ll talk to my superiors and see if we can get you on the rehabilitation programme and out of solitary confinement.”

Confusion washed the pink mare in waves of uncertainty. She lifted her head from the ground to stare at Fluttershy in shock, those bloodshot sapphire eyes almost challenging her silently, “y-you promise?”

A hoof went up, making the motions of crossing her heart, “I, Pinkie Promise.”

For the first time in a long time a genuine smile broke out across Pinkie’s lips, her body relaxing from its tense ache, her head flopping back onto the cold hard stone of her cell as she drew her sapphire eyes to capture those cyan orbs staring intently at her with the most reassuring smiles Fluttershy could ever muster.

Sighing, the pink mare began, her eyes gazing to the cracked ceiling

“… It started, when I first moved to Ponyville.”

Author's Note

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Heart-Shaped Box

Fluttershy sat behind a cluttered desk in her small, quaint little office. Files nearly as high as a pony was stacked upon the desk, surrounding the meek mare in a wall of information as she wrote her latest report on Patient Number Eighty-Five.

It had almost been five weeks since she started her sessions with the infamous serial killer, yet while she was practically ordered by her superiors to simply forge the psychiatric diagnosis of the monthly evaluation to be rid of the insane pink mare once and for all, Fluttershy could not bring herself to do it.

The first session had started rather violently and while it unnerved the timid mare, Fluttershy had made a breakthrough by the end of it.

She had succeeded where others had not and although it was in poor taste for her to use the subject’s affection to gain leverage and control of the situation, it was essentially her only way into Pinkie Pie’s mind. Other psychiatrists had tried the same tactic in the past, but with little to no success.

So why did it work now?

Why me? Fluttershy thought.

Maybe the years of incarceration had softened the hard shell and web of lies that Pinkie Pie constructed around herself... Maybe now she wanted to reconcile with what she had done? Perhaps time in this facility for the mad and depraved may had indeed done some good for the mare’s mind; locked in an eternal purgatory of her own thoughts to mull over her wrongdoings in life.

It was not a stretch of the imagination to assume Pinkie Pie was capable of remorse, for the mare certainly possessed some kind of notion of this towards what she had done to a mare which she proclaimed in one of her sessions to be in love with.

If Fluttershy could open up the workings of Pinkie Pie’s mind, the murderer could be her meal ticket to stardom. She could write books on the pony—and boy, would they sell.

Fluttershy would get filthy rich out of this; and with the opportunity presenting itself before her practically gift wrapped, who was she to turn it down? All she needed to do was to gain the mare’s trust. They needed to be closer— friendlier than ever before and they were getting there. Albeit it slowly. But they were getting there.

Every session everyday produced results for Fluttershy.

Every time she stepped out of that cell, she left empowered and in control; sporting a library of snippets of information she could analyse and conclude to her assumptions.

Day by day she learnt more about the mare and the more Fluttershy learnt, the more she craved. The more she wanted to know the extent of her patient’s depravity.

After the first session, Fluttershy had already decided to put forward the recommendation of ceasing her execution at the Rainbow Factory, which subsequently shocked her superiors, but when revealing the details of her discoveries they simply relented, agreed, and praised her work.

The Butcher had something to give before she died, and she was giving it to the young upstart willingly. They could not deny Fluttershy her hard work and its pay off.

Even the Princess Twilight Sparkle commended her in a letter of her discoveries, also in agreement with Fluttershy's recommendations to stay the execution order.

However with her latest session, she may had just ruined it all.

She may had squandered the hours she spent resisting the bile in her throat whenever she had to speak to the insane mare with a idiotic and rather unprofessional mistake.

With a pen firmly grasped between her teeth; jotting down her latest observations within a log diary, her eyes flicking up to the tape player momentarily as she reached out with a hoof and pressed play.

The crack, hiss and pops of the poorly maintained rather outdated piece of equipment was harsh, but the voices that swam amongst the static spoke clear as day.

“This is session 31, this is Doctor Fluttershy’s daily report with Patient #85, Pinkie Pie. How are you feeling today, Pinkie?”

“Meh, I’m alright… Just feeling a little bit blue today.”

“Oh my, is something the matter, Pinkie Pie? Do you think it is a side effect of the medication I recommended?”

“No, no, it isn’t that… And really, thanks a bunch for getting me those. I’ve been feeling a little drowsy when I take them but it really does stop my mood swings. I didn’t even feel the need to attack the orderly that dropped them here, even though I really hate him.”

“Pinkie… That’s not a very nice thing to say, is it?”

“You’re right,” there’s a sigh. “The truth is I... I had a bad dream.”

“Oh dear. Would you like to talk about it? Pinkie? Pinkie... A-are you crying?”

“N-no… I’m not crying. See? I’m smiling! I’m not some sorry sad sack. Not at all!”

“Pinkie, dreams are not real, and they cannot hurt you. If you want to talk about it, I am here for you. I will not push the matter because I can see how upset it is making you. But I have to ask… And I’m asking because I’m concerned, as your psychiatrist and as your friend.”

“F-Friend? Y-you’re my f-friend?”

“I know I’m your doctor and you know I’m paid to help people overcome their problems. I won’t deny that is the only reason I am here… But Pinkie Pie, I feel as if we have grown close over these past few weeks. I want nothing more than for you to get better and walk out of here and live a normal and happy life. I really hope that comes true, so I am going to do everything in my power to help you get through this. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’ll be there to listen and help. Because that is what friends do, right?”

A light sobbing permeated the air of the office for several minutes, Fluttershy’s eyes locked upon the tape player with an avid attention.

“… I didn’t mean to hurt her. I loved her you know? Her smiles and her accent… Her flank… Her lips… They belonged to—no, BELONG, to me… So why did she—how could she go and… And… With her!”

“You mean, Rainbow Dash?”

“Yes... I didn't know they were a thing! I thought they were good friends… So when I caught them doing all kinds of things in the barn I… I just, flipped you know?”

“It was the first time you were never in control of the situation. What you wanted more than anything in the world was taken from you. And it hurt you. I understand, Pinkie. But what you did in retaliation was simply—”

“I didn’t lose control! I was spreading smiles indiscriminately for years and meticulously picked my playmates so that no one ever missed them when they went to play with me! No one suspected a thing! But I… I… I didn’t mean to pick Rarity, I—”

“Can I ask you something, Pinkie?”

“Y-yes. Sure.”

“Pinkie… When you say playmates, you mean… Victims, right? And by play, you mean other things, right?”

“… I don’t like that word. They were playmates… W-we played together. Smiled together...”

“Pinkie Pie, I know this is hard for you to understand, but, what you did was not just playing with them. They were your victims.”

“I don’t like that word—”

“And you killed them.”

“No! No, I didn’t kill them... What’s that? What is that, Flutters?”

“This may seem harsh but as your friend, I want you to get better. I know this is going to make you uncomfortable, but please look at this picture, Pinkie.”

“No… No, keep it away from me. I didn’t do that... I would never do that!”

“Pinkie, please—”

“Stop! You’re making me sad!”

“You did not only just kill Rarity, Pinkie. You... killed her little sister, too. Her name was Sweetie Belle.”

“I was their friend! I would never do that! You are lying to me—they never died! Get that THING away from me!”

“You forced Rarity to watch as you served up her little sister on a silver platter and then fed it to her.”

“I thought we were friends! You’re being so mean! How could you?!”

“No, Pinkie Pie,” Fluttershy’s voice raised, growing in confidence, “if there is anyone mean in this room, it is you! You are not going to get better if you do not accept the fact that you did these things. Your dreams will only continue to haunt you and you will only remain in this cycle of madness for the rest of your days in this cell!”

“I am not, INSANE! I just wanted to make them smile and guess what! I fucking did! I even slit their cheeks wiiiiiiiiiide open so that they had great big, BLOOIDIED smiles! And guess what?! They laughed and sang and played with me all day long!” Pinkie giggled, "Welllllllllllll, until they fell asleep of course! My parties are always so tiring! They always fall asleep! Forever, and ever!"

“Pinkie, don’t come towards the line. You know what happens when you do.”

“So, Fluttershy, if we’re so-called friends, then let us play together! Let us play tag—”

“Please, Pinkie Pie! You need to try and control yourself!”

“And you, are, IT!”

Fluttershy slammed a hoof down onto the stop button so hard, it caused the files that were neatly piled on top of her desk to slip off and scatter its contents all across the wooden flooring. With a sneer, she quickly dropped her head onto the desk with a thud and cursed silently to herself.

"This is going to take weeks to repair..."

Lifting her head up from the desk, Fluttershy glanced down to the report she had left unfinished and read a passage aloud.

“To conclude, the patient is unstable and dangerous. All psychiatric methods to correct her have failed. Medication also bears minimum and unsatisfactory results. My recommendation as the patient’s psychiatrist is that she be placed for immediate expedite to the Rainbow—”

The door erupted open and two orderlies followed by Nurse Redheart flooded into the room with expressions of grim determination, causing Fluttershy to yelp in surprise to flail her hooves in a panic.

“We have a problem,” Redheart commented as she approached the desk, "a big problem," she added with worried stare.

“P-problem?” Fluttershy stuttered, trying to collect herself and stop her heart from jumping out of her throat.

“Patient Number Eighty-Five attempted suicide.”

Author's Note

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Medium Rare

Author's Note

Warning. This chapter is grim-dark. Not OVERLY grim-dark but... Well, kind of. I could had done a lot worse, but, eh... Just thought I'd warn you this chapter contains scenes of a twisted nature.

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Medium Rare

2 Years, 2 Months, 2 Hours, and 2 Minutes Ago.

Pinkie Pie hummed as she trotted around the dinner table, merrily adjusting the cutlery that was arranged before the seated Rarity, who was unfortunately bound to the furniture and gagged to restrain her cries for help.

With a rather unexpected pout, Pinkie moved to inspect Rarity’s forehead and the bloodied bandage that was wrapped around it.

“I’m reaaaaaaaaaaal sorry about that Rarity, but the thing is I did not want you to ruin the party with that magic of yours! I hope you don’t mind—I am SURE you won’t! After all, this is going to be the bestest best party feast that ever did bested the entirety of feasty bestedom!” She blinked and then placed a hoof to her lips, “I’m not quite sure if that is a word, but, hey! It is now!”

The bloodshot, despair filled eyes of Rarity only remained upon the large, oval silver platter in the centre of the table, her helpless whimpering muffled by one of her own designer pieces wrapped tight about her muzzle.

Gently, Rarity shook her head, still completely in denial that this was ever happening.

“I’m sorry? Did you say something?”

“Mmmmphm—mpphhmph! Mmmphmmmph!.”

“Huh? That’s not a language!”

“MMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHHHH!”

“Oh, wait! Silly me, I forgot you can’t speak through fabric like the rest of us. Duuuuuuh! Well. Then again if you could do that, I would probably be forced to cut off your tongue or something to shut you up,” Pinkie shrugged, “but that would make no sense, really. You would still be able to make some kind of noise even if I did do that… Heck, you might even choke on your own blood…”

Pinkie Pie gasped dramatically, “Mmmmmmaybe I should had just cut your vocal chords? That way there is NO way you could possible make a noise! Hey, that isn't a bad idea! I need to remember that one for future parties.”

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPH!”

A sad frown came to Pinkie’s lips, “You... Don’t want to have a party?”

Rarity wept and nodded, looking at Pinkie with pleading, hopeful eyes.

“But… But I thought we were friends...” Pinkie’s hair deflated as if it filled with air one moment, then not the next.

Casually, Pinkie walked to the other end of the table and sat down, her eyes upon the platter as she spoke forlornly, “You know… When your number came up for the party, I almost tore it up. Because… Because, I wanted to just throw you an old, regular party, you know? Not one of my super duper special awesome amazing parties where you have the best time of your life... Just the ones where you don’t go to sleep, you know?”

Pinkie Pie continued to speak, even as Rarity wailed red faced into the gag, “you’re such a great friend… And… And… I’m real sorry,” she indicated a hoof to the silver platter casually, “it’s not great and I am pretty sure you are not going to eat it because it is not exactly what we ponies normally eat... But!” She brightened instantly, her hair bouncing back to its poufy normalcy as her voice broke out into its usual hyperactive glee, “I spent all day making it so I am SURE you will love it, Rarity!”

Bounding from the chair, she bounced her way over to Rarity and with a simple swipe of the hoof, pushed the gag from the mare’s mouth.

“Now, just so you know, I am doing this because first of all you can’t eat with a gag on. That would be impossible. And secondly, I can’t talk to you properly if you got it on... But, you haaaaaaaave to promise me that you won't scream,” Pinkie lost her smile, her gaze suddenly serious, and her tone deadly, “because if you do scream, Rarity, the party will end quickly. And I don’t like quick parties, because that way I don’t get any fun out of it. Do you understand, Rarity?”

“P-Pinkie… Wh-what have you done w-with, Sw-sweetie Belle?”

Pinkie Pie slammed her hooves down onto the table, causing the cutlery to rustle out of their carefully placed positions and Rarity to jump and yelp in fright.

The pink mare leaned in close with wide, manic eyes and sneered a smile as she half whispered, half shouted into Rarity’s cringing face, “What did I say about shouting?”

Rarity wept harder, “P-pleeaase… Wh-why are you doing this?”

“Your number came up,” Pinkie Pie tilted her head to one side confusedly, “I thought we established that already.”

“Where’s Sweetie, Pinkie? Wh-what have you done to her? I-if you’ve hurt her I’ll—”

Nonchalantly she interrupted as she rearranged the disturbed cutlery after her outburst into their intended positions “I played with her in her own party, of course.”

“W-w-w-what?”

“A private party, you know? One-on-one, super secret private party between me and Sweetie Belle.”

“... I-I don’t understa—”

“Have you you got some kind of gooey thing in your ears stopping you from understanding what it is I am trying to say, Rarity? I said I played with her in her own special party. A very, very private party...”

Rarity stared, dumbfounded, “Y-you, did not do what I think you did, right, Pinkie?”

“I only played with her for a couple of hours you know—”

“You evil! Twisted—”

“You WERE out cold for a very, VERY long time you know. I got pretty bored waiting, okay?” Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes at Rarity, as she thrashed violently in the chair, “Rarity, you can’t get out of that chair. I’m pretty good at knots aby now. Lots, and lots of practice. In fact, my sister Maud showed me my very first knot when I was just a little filly. About the same age as Sweetie Belle now that I think about—”

“YOU RAPED MY LITTLE SISTER!”

“Sorry about that,” the pink mare shrugged nonchalantly, “though that’s just a nasty word to describe what happened. I like to call them private parties. Much less icky sounding.”

“When I get out of this chair I’m going to—”

“Wow, Rarity, that tap on the head was a bit harder than I thought it was… You’re acting all kinds of mean! Although... I needed to do something to put you to sleep so I could remove your horn. I didn’t have any poisons to hoof so I had to make do with a sewing machine to the back of the head...” Pinkie glanced over to the broken machine in the corner of the kitchen, “sorry about that.”

The fashionista gasped, “What… Wh-what did you just say?”

Pinkie Pie pointedly ignored her, “I got kinda bored waiting, okay? Can you blame a mare who has had little to no sex in a while? And fillies are always the bestest of things to play with at private parties. They’re so innocent at first, but they learn, really, really quickly. Sweetie Belle was almost a natural!”

Rarity became deathly quiet as she stared at the table, absorbing all the information she certainly did not want to hear in regards to what happened between them.

“She was actually quite talented you know,” Pinkie continued, searching Rarity’s face for signs of a reaction, “the things she did with her tongue... Maybe being good with the tongue runs in the family, huh? You certainly don’t shut up when it comes to gossip so it makes me wonder... How good are you with your tongue, Rarity...”

Licking her lips at such a prospect, Pinkie Pie shuddered with a piercing groan, regarding the silver platter with a tilt of a brow, “besides, what did you think I was baking all day? She left such a mess as well! Took me hours to clean it all up—such a messy filly! You should have taught her to clean up after herself, you know…” Pinkie Pie blinked, “well... that is difficult after one of my parties, though. Ponies always do make pretty big messes.”

“My… Horn…?”

“Yep! You haven’t seen it yet have you? Here, let me show you,” Pinkie Pie produced a hoof mirror seemingly out of nowhere and thrusted it close to Rarity’s hollow eyes, “see?”

Rarity’s cry caught in her throat as her teeth clamping shut on her lower lip, she restrain a scream within her throat as her flow of tears renewed itself in its unrelenting fervor.

“Sorry, Rarity, but I had to do it. You would had ruined the party otherwise…” She frowned and moved to Rarity for a long, loving hug, “it is okay, Rarity don’t cry. Once the party is over, you can rest for alllllllllll eternity.”

“B…Baked?” Rarity drew her eyes to the platter, but this time, dreading what was underneath. “Where’s… Where’s Sweetie Belle?”

“Oh! Yes! Do you want to start the party now? That’s great! Here’s your hat,” she slipped a party hat onto Rarity’s head and turned, reaching out with her mouth to remove the lid from the platter with an over excited: “TA DA!”

Rarity’s eyes widened impossibly wide as they swirled with disgust and horror. She screamed at the sight and quickly tore her head away as her body convulsed erratically against her bonds.

There before her on the silver platter was none other than her sister, Sweetie Belle, or what was left of her. The young dead filly was neatly separated up into traditional cuts of meat, whereby the legs, the ribs, fillet, offal cuts and the rump were all neatly arranged and perfectly cooked to perfection in a rather beautiful and culinary arrangement… Except Sweetie Belle’s head that was just sort of left uncooked and somewhat perched haphazardly on top of the display wearing a pink party hat.

Rarity’s scream was short lived as Pinkie leaned over and simply struck her across the face with a hoof, looking down at the mare with a rather menacing expression, her hair depoufifying once again as she spoke in a dark and sinister tone.

“Rarity... What did I say? No, screaming. Or the party ends for you, right, now. Kay?" Pinkie beamed suddenly as she glanced back to the platter, "now then, let’s eat! It’s going to go cold.”

The fashionista dry heaved at the notion. “E…Eat…?”

“Well duh! Why else would I cook this scrumptious meal for this super special awesome party for you, Rarity?”

That was the last straw for Rarity. She could no longer contain the bile rising up in her throat and with a wretch, the contents of her stomach flooded her gullet and then threw up all over herself.

“Eesh, I know I ain’t that good of a cook but you didn’t have to go that far!”

The pink mare leant over towards the tray of meat and plucked a good piece of rump with her teeth as Rarity coughed and heaved, “Thish ish the fillet, twy itsh!” She turned back to offer the shard to Rarity, who only spluttered and gagged as she turned her head away from it, her lips tightening together to prevent Pinkie Pie from force feeding her.

Pinkie Pie dropped the meat as she opened her mouth to fully complain at Rarity’s improper table manners, “Rarity! How rude! That is no way to treat a friend’s generosity like that! I mean look at this mess! Do you even know what I do to ponies that don’t enjoy my super special awesome parties and the things I do to them?!”

Rarity shook her head, opening her mouth only slightly to plead with her supposed friend, as saliva and vomit drooled down her chin and oozed from her nostrils.

“Pinkie… P-pleaaaaaaaaaaase!”

“They get a sad face. And I don’t like sad faces because sad faces makes for a sad Pinkie, and a sad Pinkie means an angry Pinkie…” The tone in her voice shifted, “and an angry Pinkie means dead ponies!”

“Oh, somepony, please help me!”

“And dead ponies get eaten—so you have two choices, Rarity. You either shut the buck up and accept my hard work and eat this lovely meal I prepared for you with your sister, or, if you want I can cut you up right here and now and eat you up. And guess what?”

Pinkie Pie leant in for a whisper close to Rarity’s twitching left ear, “I’ll do it when you’re alive, too.”

Rarity stared wide eyed as she hyperventilated, regarding the platter of gore that was once her precious little Belle and then back to Pinkie Pie whom only glared bloody murder at her.

Rarity had no choice. If she played along and did what she was told, then maybe—just maybe she could get out of this alive…

Maybe if she gave Pinkie what she wanted, her life would be spared.

With a simple nod, Rarity closed her eyes. “O-Okay…” and opened her mouth with trembling lips.

“See?” Pinkie Pie squealed merrily, “Now that wasn't so hard now was it?”

Once again the pink mare leaned over to pluck another shred of meat from the platter and offered it over towards Rarity.

Casually Pinkie deposited it into the waiting orifice and watched with a kind of twisted satisfaction as the perfectly cooked medium rare slice of the fashionista’s sister was situated between the mare’s jaws that awaited to be chewed.

For the longest time, Rarity trembled and gagged; though eventually, closed her mouth about the sliver of meat, sucked it into her mouth with a slurp and chewed, weeping helplessly as the bloodied juices flooded her mouth with each and every stomach wrenching chomp.

“How does it taste? Is it good? I hope it seasoned it enough. Maybe more pepper?”

Rarity, nodded, chewing slowly as she kept her eyelids clenched tightly together.

“Swallow it.”

Rarity trembled as she opened her tear filled eyes up at the ceiling in despair at the demand.

“I said, SWALLOW IT.”

Rarity shook her head, weeping with a full mouth as a trickle of saliva and cooked meaty juices escaped from the corners of her mouth. Her cheeks bulged and her body shuddered as she struggled against the revolting, cold, squirming sensation in the pits of her being creeping up her neck.

“I understand why you won’t, Rarity. She is after all your sister… I suppose eating her out in this way just won’t do, huh? But don’t worry, Rarity, I get it. You just don’t appreciate what I’ve done for you.”

Pinkie Pie moved to the other end of the kitchen, searching through the draws as she lost her smile, “I really don’t like it when my so called friends throws back all of my hard work in my face like that... but, it’s fine! Because now we’re no longer friends. So I don’t have to continue this charade anymore... And if I don’t have to throw a party for you, it means I don’t have to keep you alive either.”

Rarity could no longer contain the contents of her nigh on empty stomach and simply threw up once again, spilling bile and the shred of her sister she had been chewing on for the longest time into her lap, spluttering in her cries of disgusted desperation.

Pinkie Pie found what she was looking for.

A draw full of knives.

The pink mare smiled maddeningly.

“And guess what is for desert?” She turned her head slowly towards Rarity, the pink mare’s eyes widening as her pupils shrank to pinpricks, “ever had an Opalescence cupcake before? I am going to bake a batch of Rarity themed ones soon, but I don't think you'll be around to try them, as I need to source some special ingredients from inside of your body to make them.”

47

Fluttershy stepped into the room with a sad expression, which was a perfectly orchestrated response considering the situation.

Her patient had attempted suicide.

A patient she had pinned her career upon. A patient that had practically bashed her head against the wall so much that she had a high likelihood of permanent brain damage. It was a brain that Fluttershy wanted active, aware, and working in its entirety if she was going to use it to get to the top, so naturally, she had some concern for the mare’s wellbeing.

“Pinkie?” Fluttershy whispered softly as she approached the bedside, her eyes glancing over the various tubes that snaked about the mare that animated from two differing facial orifices and from the sticky pads upon chest that led to a heart monitor casually beeping besides the bed.

She noticed the recognition in Pinkie’s eyes and realized the mare was not quite beyond reality as she was originally led to believe.

I thought she was completely comatose... Maybe she had just woken up? I best get a nurse...

A gargled reply was her only response from the pink mare and with a sad smile, Fluttershy sat upon her haunches at the bedside and lifted her forehooves up to take up an immobile hoof of the Butcher from the bed and gestured it close to her own chest where heart was located.

“Why, Pinkie? Why do it? I thought we were going somewhere.”

“I…”

“Pinkie? Can you speak? I better get somepony, they need to know you are awa—”

“I... I w-want to die… Please help me do it.”

Fluttershy gasped, startled at the request. It caused her to cease her thoughts of getting any help to simply stare at the mare with confused eyes, “but why? I… I can’t do that. It’s wrong.”

“I…” Pinkie’s words became garbled, but with a loud swallow and a fit of coughs she continued on, regardless of the pain she was in, “I hate what I did… But t-the numbers came up… The numbers… Mean so much...”

“The numbers Pinkie mean nothing. It was all due to your psychosis making you believe the numbers meant something significant. There is no need to kill yourself over this! I can cure you and then once you are well enough again, you can go home back to your friends... I promise, Pinkie. I can do this, but only if you believe in it.”

“C-cure?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy nodded, leaning in close, “I can, and I will cure you. We made so much progress over the past few weeks, I feel as if you can be reintroduced into society within a year!” Fluttershy smiled brightly to the mare, almost believing the lie herself.

“But… Rarity…”

Fluttershy closed her eyes and sighed. She knew what she did to Pinkie Pie during their last session was… Extremely risky, to the say the least... It was an unpredictable and irrational action on her part by showing her patient photos of the crime scene; but not only that, it was beyond what would be considered correct as a physician or as a psychiatrist.

Yet she did it anyway.

Why?

Because she wanted to show this murderer exactly what her twisted actions produced.

Murder.

Blood.

Death.

But why?

Because Fluttershy wanted this mare dead. She wanted the mare to look upon her victims…

What have I done? I’m no better than she is… Torturing her like that…

“I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe facing your fears would produce a… Um. P-positive reaction… I was wrong. I’m sorry.” Her hooves clenched the mare’s leg briefly for a comforting squeeze, “I didn’t mean for you to do this. I promise. I did not mean to hurt or upset you, or drive you to—”

“If I die… Other ponies would be... Happy, right? They'd all... S-smile, yeah?”

“Don’t say that—“

“Would they?” Pinkie Pie drew her bruised face towards Fluttershy as she struggled to lean up. Staring at her with dead eyes that unnerved the psychiatrist.

She could not deny it, for Fluttershy knew that much. The families of the victims would had surely danced for joy the day they found out about the death of their loved one's killer.

Fluttershy could not lie about this. She simply nodded. “I… I’m sorry.”

“W-why?”

“Because I failed you as a doctor. As a friend...”

“You can’t... Fix what is broken, s-silly.”

Fluttershy shook her head and then leaned in close to Pinkie, “I don’t understand. I thought... I thought you wanted to be fixed? Why would you say something so negative? It's not like you. You need to smile and carry on, yeah? Giggle at all of the bad things in life you have been doing for so long now. This is just a minor bump in the road, and we’ll get through this together.”

“I… Killed so many ponies… I didn’t mean to. I just… I… I wanted to have fun… Like on the rock farm… With my sisters...”

Fluttershy shook her head, “Now who is being silly? I understand. You believe fun is in the concept of despair. And despair? It can be captivating. I get that. The emotional response to which you seek is that which gives you pleasure, and that is the suffering of others. Despair for you is what you call... Happiness. Fun… Maybe even laughter."

Fluttershy shook her head, "but from what I have attained from our sessions, I can honestly say you can overcome this. You have guilt! That is rare in… ponies like you.”

“I-I can't hear you well... Come closer, please. I think's... Something's wrong with me… I-I don’t f-feel so good...”

Fluttershy lent closer, a worried expression dominating her face as she trembled at the prospect of her patient's health deteriorating, “How about now? Can you hear me? Maybe I should get a nurse, there is some blood coming out of your nose and that is not a good sign. Would you like me to clean it up?”

Pinkie sniffed, “Yes… P-please...”

Fluttershy nodded and turned to reach for a box of tissues left upon a bedside cabinet.

The meek mare stiffened as she felt two hooves pin her muzzle still.

Without warning and without protest, Fluttershy felt herself drawn violently into a long, deep and sloppy kiss.

The meek mare panicked, her hooves scrambling to thud against the chest of her patient but no avail, for she felt a tongue in her throat she did not want present and it writhed deep within her throat, as if seeking to reach and penetrate her stomach.

With scrambling hooves she pushed Pinkie Pie from off of her, breaking the kiss with a stunned gasp.

“W-What?!” Fluttershy squeaked.

But the kiss only reconnected and deepened more so.

The pink mare transformed such a sudden gesture into a lustful explosion of sexual energy. She moaned and breathed hotly from her nostrils as her tongue only sought to dominate more of Fluttershy’s mouth in further deepening passion that was intoxicating and dumbing the psychiatrist’s flaling protests.

For a second time Fluttershy managed to push Pinkie away, breaking the kiss long enough for her to regard Pinkie with half lidded, drunken eyes and blushing cheeks, “S-stop!”

“Why?”

“B-because… We’re…” Fluttershy felt a slither of drool trickle down her chin, “I don’t understand... Why would you—”

“You know me better than anyone, silly. Why do you think I would do that to you, huh? Maybe I wanted you to come here, all alone.”

“W… What? Why?”

"Because your number came up, silly filly!"

With lightning speed, Pinkie Pie wrapped her hooves about the trailing wires spanning from her nose and with a wrenching cough, pulled them from her lungs until they were free from her body.

Fluttershy gawked and moved to stop her, but it was simply too late.

Quickly, Pinkie Pie crossed her forelegs and wrapped the bemused Fluttershy’s neck in a chaotic coil of wires that once completely noosed about the mare’s neck, she pulled the wires tight, garroting Fluttershy until she moved no more.

Author's Note

Fluttershy: 0... My Fics: 2

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Taxidermy

Nurse Redheart approached the chambers of one Twilight Sparkle with a nervous disposition; nibbling her bottom lip and sweating profusely, as she could figure the reason as to why she was summoned by the Princess.

It was more than likely due to the recent escape and the circumstances surrounding it from the Processing Facility by Patient #85: Pinkamena Diane Pie.

Pausing before the portal that led to perhaps her being fired from her leading position at the facility, Nurse Redheart took a moment to collect and compose herself before lifting up a hoof and knocking politely upon the door.

Instead of hearing an enraged response to which she had expected, it came to some surprise that the tone that came with the voice was actually quite jovial.

“Come in! But please watch your step, there are some books scattered on the floor.”

Shrugging to herself and heaving a hefty sigh of relief that she was not going to be sent to Tartarus the moment she stepped in, Nurse Redheart entered the bed chambers of Princess Twilight Sparkle and paused as she took one hoofstep into the room. Her eyes widened.

That’s…Not just, some, books… Redheart nervously mused to herself.

It was not, for the room was almost literally full, covering the chamber in a maze of ceiling high stacks of reading materials; Nurse Redheart had noticed when she finally managed to stop gawking and fully enter, displayed a whole wide range of topics from Equestrian law and history, right through to medical, magical and technological sciences.

She had heard about the Princess’s studious nature, but this was going a bit too far.

“U-um… Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

“Hm?” Twilight poked her around a stack of books and smiled warmly to her guest, “ah-ha! I was just wondering when you were going to arrive. I understand you are very busy considering what has transpired at the facility, so I thank you for taking time out of your schedule to come see me.”

Nurse Redheart shifted nervously on the spot at the mention of Patient #85’s escape.

“T-that’s alright, Princess. Is there something you need?”

“I’ve read the reports,” Twilight moved around another stack of books to approach the visibly nervous mare, “several times in fact and there are just a few discrepancies I need to point out.”

“D-discrepancies…?”

“For example,” Twilight’s horn lit as she summoned the report from thin air with a flashing poof of purple, including her reading glasses to which she slipped on effortlessly, “it says here, ‘the patient was not securely strapped to the gurney due to the results of the medical examination performed upon the patient immediately after her attempt of suicide, which confirmed that she had suffered significant brain damage, rendering her comatose and completely harmless.’ Well, she was not exactly completely harmless now was she, Nurse Redheart? Or as comatose as you were led to believe.”

Twilight looked up from the report to Nurse Redheart, awaiting some kind of response.

“I—”

And Twilight interrupted her almost immediately, “I could go on and on and outline every bit of detail that really irked me, but instead,” Twilight flicked her head to the left, using her magic to tear the report to shreds before Nurse Redheart’s shocked face, “I would much rather do this to it than suffer any more of its affront against the very concept of a report.”

Nurse Redheart choked on a sob, her words laden with desperation. Perhaps she was going to get fired after all...

“I’m so sorry the report was not up to proper standards, Princess Twilight but I—“

“Proper standards? That was far beyond the idea of what I consider ‘proper standards,’ Nurse Redheart. That was; for a lack of a better term, an immense clusterfuck against standard procedures! You mean to tell me you happily did not restrain one of your most dangerous of patients, based upon the concept that she was comatose and therefore somehow not a threat? What you failed to remember is that ponies can and do wake up from such conditions shortly after the trauma. Did you consider that? Or did you not even consider the possibility she might had just been pretending?”

Nurse Redheart, although adept at restraining her emotions due to her line of work swiftly moved to defend her position with a single hoofstomp, suddenly sounding very offended at Twilight’s insinuation.

“That is an outrageous theory! I cannot stand idly by while you sprout such nonsense! No one pony in all of Equestria can pretend to be comatose—that’s medically impossible! There is no scientific explanation or theory to suggest she has the capability to fool our equipment! She's just an earth pony! Not a unicorn! She has no magical capability whatsoever!”

Twilight Sparkle stared, her voice flat, “you forget your place, Redheart… And you forget one simple fact about Patient #85.”

“And what is that?”

“This is Pinkie Pie we’re talking about. I chased her for years before I managed to put her away. She does things that almost defies all logic and the laws of the Universe itself, and, to top it off, she somehow managed to walk straight out of a facility with only one way in and one way out. Even I did not think that was possible and yet somehow… She did it. Again proving me wrong… Now, do you see, Nurse Redheart? Now do you see what your mistake is here?”

“I—”

“You underestimated her. You should never underestimate Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

“I’m... You're right. I am sorry, Princess… This won’t happen again.”

“Save your apologies for the parents of that mare she murdered…" Twilight looked upon Redheart incredulously, "and what possessed you to allow one of your junior members of staff to visit an unrestrained Pinkamena alone? And in a room with medical equipment no less!”

“I… Don’t know...”

“Nor do I,” Twilight sneered, “but I am certainly not going to be the one to tell her parents that poor mare was somehow skinned ALIVE right under her noses.”

Nurse Redheart’s bottom lip trembled, her eyes dropping to the ground, “Oh, Fluttershy, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Twilight’s anger subsided as she turned gaze aside, gasping softly as she did so, becoming aware of a possibility that could had explained the killer's escape.

“Of course… She would do that, wouldn't she?” Snapping her gaze to Nurse Redheart, she took several threatening steps forward towards her, “how close were these two?”

“H-huh? W-well… Very. Fluttershy is… was… the only pony who could cross the punishment line at times without being attacked. The tapes even tells us Pinkie Pie opened up quite a bit to Fluttershy compared to other doctors. Because of that, we were able to confirm many victims she killed over the years we thought to be just missing ponies.” Nurse Redheart stared confusedly at the Princess, “I don’t see how—”

“Give me those tapes. I must study them... But tell me something quickly, have you listened to them yourself?”

“Yes… Several times… But I—”

“Did Fluttershy ever mention anything about her past in these recordings? Where she lived when she was younger, where her parents live or her favorite places to visit; anything like that?”

“I… believe so. She did mention… once, I think, she had a cottage back in Ponyville she liked to go back to from time to time to visit some old friends.”

Twilight whirled about and stormed off into her room, pacing about in circles, avoiding towers of books where possible, “I must summon Shining and have him send a detachment to Ponyville immediately. Because if I am correct—and I always am —then that is where Pinkie Pie will be headed. It is no stretch of the imagination she is going to return there.”

“But how did she manage to escape? All the doors are locked and can only be opened via key cards."

Pausing in her steps, Twilight glanced back at Nurse Redheart, smiling rather grimly, “let us just say I believe Pinkie Pie might have used Fluttershy's key and simply walked out in disguise.”

_______________________________

The two mares panted as their bodies writhed and intertwined on a pile of hay, their lips seeking to subjugate the other with nipping teeth and lashing tongues as their groans of boldness and lust mixed together in a chaotic amalgamation of throaty moans and sloppy wet pops as lips parted, collided and slipped across each other.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash had been at it for at least two hours, each trying to take the lead with no certain victor taking the prize.

They smiled between kisses, giggled between others and growled like sexual predators frequently.

Both mares had hid in the barn over at Sweet Apple Acres to avoid their respected jobs that morning, as their desire for each other had coalesced into a singular desperation neither mare could no longer ignore. Their needs simply outweighed their duties. They needed each other and nothing else, despite their relationship teetering upon the rocks.

To hell with bucking trees, and to hell with the factory for right now there was only them, this barn, and their lust to which to indulge in.

That was until they finally stopped to catch their breaths, each panting as they gazed into each other’s eyes like passionate lovers ought to do. But the expression was hardly mutual for one of them.

Rainbow Dash stole her gaze aside to the barn door and swallowed hard, spittle glistening her lips as her tongue lapped out to savour the apple flavor Applejack seemed to possess upon her lips.

“I… have to go, AJ.”

Applejack frowned, pouting playfully as a hoof reached down under Rainbow Dash’s tail, “Aw come on, RD, jus’ a little longer? Ah can tell ya’ll really need it as much as Ah do. It’s pretty hot down there, Ah can almost feel the heat comin’ out of it.”

“I…” Rainbow Dash shivered in anticipation, but gently pushed that hoof away with her own, “I can’t. The guys at the factory are gonna need me. I am the head operator, after all, and I am already running ten minutes late. They can’t get started unless I’m there, so…” Rainbow Dash got up and groaned as she felt the continued heat under her tail pulse for more.

“Fine. Ah don’ care anyway. Ah’ll finish myself off then. Like Ah always do.” Applejack remained prone, barely looking at the pegasus as her expression turned sour.

“Why do you have to be like that, AJ? We just had awesome hot sex and now you’re ruining it by being a sourpuss. Again.”

“Ah think you find ya’ll the one that ruins it when ya keep runnin’ off in th’ middle of it..”

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m going.” Rainbow turned to depart, her wings spreading wide.

“That’s all ya’ll good at any way… Leavin’ me hangin’ without nothin’ to hold onto.”

Rainbow Dash could not let that one stand. She turned suddenly, frowning at Applejack, “Geez, AJ, you’ve changed. I thought you were so cool when we first started going out, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you were uncool to begin with.”

Rainbow’s words stung Applejack. Tears came to the pony’s eyes as she leant up, “Ya’ll the one that has changed! Ever since ya got tha’ job at tha’ blasted Rainbow Factory, it’s like ya’ll become a different pony!”

“At least none of my best friends turned out to be some kind of fucked up psycho.”

Applejack parted her lips to speak, enraged Rainbow Dash even went there.

“You know what? I don’t need to hear this from you; I’m outta here. And I am not coming back. We’re over.” With that, Rainbow took off through open barn doorway, disappearing from the farm pony’s sight.

Applejack however shot to her hooves and chased her in hot pursuit out of the barn, “How dare ya, Rainbow Dash! Get back ‘ere an’ say tha’ to mah face!”

Even though her anger boiled beneath the surface, tears lingered in the corners of her eyes as she quickly came to terms with what Rainbow Dash had said.

She isn’t coming back…

Fighting the urge to sob, Applejack merely steeled her resolve and spat onto the ground as she watched the multi-colored contrail disappear into the distance towards Cloudsdale.

It felt better to be angry at the mare than it was to be sad over the prospect that their relationship; which had been tumultuous as of late, was finally over rather abruptly.

“Fine! Be tha’ way. Ah don’ need you anyway…” Turning, she moved to head back to work, even if she wanted nothing more than to finish herself off and cease the damn ache underneath her tail.

As her emerald eyes lifted towards the orchard, Applejack paused when she noticed the distant visage of a yellow mare standing just on the edge of the treeline.

A mare she did not quite recognize.

“Hey there! Ya’ll need somethin’?” Applejack yelled out, but the mysterious mare said and did nothing in return.

Squinting her eyes, Applejack took steps forward to investigate, “Hey? Ya’ll okay there? Can Ah help ya any?”

The merest glances to the sky to spot the dissipating end of that spectrum contrail and back to the figure was all it took for it to disappear altogether from view.

Applejack blinked, rubbed at her eyes and then looked again.

But the mysterious trespasser was still no where to be seen.

Author's Note

Here comes the pain, motherbuckers.

Re-edited on 09/06/2014 for corrections and added content.

Maggots and Apples

Big Macintosh carefully placed the apple pie into the picnic basket, its wafting aroma of cinnamon and freshly baked pastry inciting his stomach to growl and grumble much to the amusement of Granny Smith, who worked at one of the kitchen counters, rolling out a new batch of pastry for the next round of pies.

“Ye best go n’ git before it gets cold, Big Macintosh… Flutter-whatshercallit’s cottage is on th’—uh—th’ other side of Ponyville ‘n we don’ wan’ that. These ‘ere pies need t’be eaten nice ‘n hot like, so go giddy up ‘n get that flank to gear!”

“Ayep,” replied Big Mac, grasping the handle of the basket between his teeth as he turned to depart the kitchen, but found his path interrupted by a rather small - and suspiciously smiling obstacle standing in his way.

Big Mac blinked down at his little sister, who only looked back up at him with her big cute eyes, the kind that always managed to melt his heart and bring a smile to his face.

His smile fell into a frown as he awaited the inevitable.

Applebloom only ever pulled this expression on one of two accounts: something bad has happened and she’s attempting to smooth over the damage before it is discovered, or she is after something the elders of the Apple family would disapprove of.

“Hey, Big Mac, Granny, can I go an’ deliver this one?”

Big Mac sighed, his suspicions confirmed.

“This pie is for Miss Fluttershy, righ’?” Applebloom ventured with a step forward, “Ah know where she lives an’ Ah’d love to see her again! She’s always workin’ away an’ she takes her animal friends with her to that fancy Canterlot apartment when she’s workin’ an’ all…”

Big Mac merely lifted a brow.

“An’ Ah’m big enough to walk home from school by m’self so it should be okay to walk to th’ other side of Ponyville too, righ’?” Applebloom trailed off as she battered her eyelashes rapidly up at her big brother, attempting to pull the wool over his eyes with her innocent act.

Ashamedly, it was working on him.

Big Mac could never deny his younger sister’s desire to be useful, nor could he disapprove of her growing need to be an independent pony and a working member of the family; after all, did he not go through the same phase when he was about her age?
However, the concerned and doting older brother within him argued against this logic. Allowing her to travel across the village by herself certainly had Big Mac conflicted about the subject, even if he was secretly proud of his little sister’s initiative to step up and volunteer to do chores instead of forcing him to ask her.

“Well…” Big Mac glanced back to Granny Smith, who was presently hard at work rolling the pin over the lump of pastry with a rather focused expression. Either the old mare did not hear Applebloom’s plea or she was silently awaiting Big Mac’s brotherly decision.

He figured the latter.

At her older brother’s clear uncertainty, Applebloom clung to his forelegs in desperation as she poked her lower lip up at him, fearing the worst.

“Awww, pleeeeeeeeease, Big Mac! Ah promise Ah won’t get distracted an’ Ah promise Ah will be right back as soon as Ah can! Ah swears it on my honour as a Cutie Mark Crusader!”

Averting his eyes from the onslaught of pouty cuteness, Big Mac’s heart shivered in his chest as he quickly relented to his sister’s demands.

Placing the basket down onto his sister’s back, Big Mac took several steps back to formulate his sternest of stares.

“Alright, Applebloom, but ya’ll better be quick, is tha’ understood?”

Wobbling a touch on the spot to balance the basket containing the apple pie, which perched somewhat haphazardly upon her back, Applebloom squeaked merrily as she turned about and bolted out of the kitchen door before either Granny or Big Mac had a chance to reconsider.

“Ah won’t let ya down big brother! Ah’ll be back before ya know it!”

Big Mac sighed, hanging his head a touch as the slam of the front door signalled Applebloom’s departure from the Apple family household, now entirely unsure if his decision in the matter was the correct one.

Turning about, Big Mac paused as he came face to face with the grinning face of Granny Smith.

“Does she be remindin’ ye of some other youngin’?” Granny Smith intoned with a chuckle, which only caused Big Mac to fluster and stammer over his words before smiling to himself and joining in with his elder’s laughter.

“Nnope.”
_____________________

By the time Applebloom had arrived at the door of Fluttershy’s cottage, she was already out of breath.

The filly had somewhat miscalculated the length of time it would had taken to get to her destination by at least ten minutes, due to a slight detour she simply could not ignore, even if she wanted to.

Without fail, whenever she passed through the centre of town, Applebloom stopped by to solemnly observe the long abandoned and neglected Carousel Boutique, which was now merely a rundown shell of its former glory.

A place where nightmares were discovered.

A place where the crusading ceased.

Where one of her best friends was…

Applebloom shook the thoughts from her head as a sadness threatened to rise within
her, the memories of that fateful day and the news reaching her ears still a fresh wound that itched at her emotions with every waking moment.

Refocusing her attention to the closed door of the cottage, Applebloom steeled her resolve and approached it, knocking ever so softly as to not frighten the shy mare and the animals who resided there.

After several minutes of silence, Applebloom knocked harder; assuming the mare was either sleeping or tending to her animals in the back garden.

When another few minutes had passed, Applebloom simply shrugged, deciding to raise her voice in hopes Fluttershy would be able to hear her.

“Miss Fluttershy! It’s me, Applebloom! Ah’ve got tha’ pie you ordered! It’s freshly baked an’ smells good! If ya’ll don’ hurry up it is gonna get cold!”

No reply came.

Applebloom tilted her head, pouting. “Huh… Ah wonder where everypony is?”

Not even Angel or any other of Fluttershy’s animal friends answered the door.

“Maybe they’ve gone out for a walk?” Applebloom reasoned as she turned her head to bite at the handle of the basket, placing the wares in front of the door with a frown, knowing full well by the time Fluttershy returned home, the pie would be long cold and past its prime of consumption.

“Ah well, no point cryin’ over cold apple pie…”

Turning to make her way back home, Applebloom paused a few steps in her journey to glance back to the door as she heard the definite sounds of the lock clicking open and the scrape of a deadbolt sliding on the other side of the portal.

Soon after followed an all too familiar whisper drawing a wide, beaming smile from the lips of the filly, which only turned into a frown as she heard a fit of terrible, hoarse coughs.

“Um… h-hi… Applebloom… I’m sorry I didn’t come to the door sooner… I would have come to Sweet Apple Acres to get it myself but… I’m not feeling too great… thank you so much for coming… you’re really too kind to come all the way out here…”

The door creaked open, revealing a figure wrapped heavily up in a pink blanket meekly half-hiding itself behind the door.

Applebloom could not see who it was underneath all those folds obscuring her vision, but she recognized the voice belonging to the kind and loving mare she fondly remembers, further noting how strangely dark it was inside the cottage.

With a step backwards, Applebloom took note that all of the window shutters outside the cottage were closed tight, as if the building was prepared to fight off a raging storm.

Finding neither of these things strange, Applebloom smiled towards the sheet-wrapped figure.

“That’s terrible news… do ya’ll need any help? Ah’d be happy to oblige!” Having grown to respect her elders and help those in need, Applebloom stepped forward, squinting her eyes to get a better look at the enshrouded mare as she dipped her head down to pick up the basket she had previously left on the doorstep.

“Th-thank you. You’re too kind, Applebloom… you’re just like your sister.”

Applebloom puffed out her chest as she lifted her head up high, trotting on into the cottage and through the peculiar aroma of flowers, a spring in her step at the mere concept that she was anything like her sister. Her ego swelled at least five times than what was the norm.

Once Applebloom had ventured far enough into the cottage, her steps came to an abrupt stop as her nostrils wrinkled in disgust, her body almost convulsing at the terrible stench permeating the air; her ears and tail flicking awkwardly as the buzzing of tiny flies assaulted her personal space and pestered her consistently.

Placing the basket down, Applebloom struggled to contain the contents of her stomach, a hoof lifting up to firmly press against her nose in a vain attempt to block out the stench.

“What’s tha’ smell? It smells worse than rottin’ pig swill in here, Fluttersh—”

The slam of the door and its lock slipping into place caused Applebloom to jump and spin back towards the door, her eyes widening a touch as she watched the mare wrapped up in the cloak shed her disguise and casually bound towards her.

Applebloom felt herself retch as she took retreating steps away from the grotesque creature that had impersonated Fluttershy’s voice to an eerie perfection stalk closer, tripping over the forgotten basket and spilling its sweet, succulent still steaming contents all over the floor.

Pinkamena’s long straight hair was frazzled about in all directions in a sticky, greasy mess, her Fluttershy skin-suit barely clinging to her body as decomposition had long started its destructive process upon the dead flesh as patches of her true pink coat blotted amongst the gangrenous holes of the darkening yellow fur.

“M-my pie… oh dear, maybe you should be more careful next time… if you don’t mind me saying, that is…” Pinkie Pie spoke in Fluttershy’s voice, whispering the words perfectly as she took her slow, purposeful steps toward the filly that laid trembling in fear on top of the ruined pie.

With a smile, Pinkie Pie held out a hoof to help the Applebloom up from the ground while the young mare struggled to contain the bile rising up in her throat, the stench of rotting flesh only intensifying the closer Pinkie got.

Why didn’t she smell it the moment the door opened?

Something had smelt intensely flowery when she had passed the mare, but figured it was just the fresh country air.

It had to be that sheet.

Ripping herself from her despair with wide, pinprick irises, Applebloom focused her trembling gaze upon the outstretch hoof that was offered, noting the pitter-patter of something falling from the slack yellow flesh that badly covered the pink appendage.

Once Applebloom had made out what the tiny white shapes writhing on top of the skin-suit were, Applebloom could no longer contain herself or her scream. Emptying the contents of her stomach out onto the ground, Applebloom wailed whenever she struggled to take a single gulp of foul air into her lungs between the spasms.

“You know, Applebloom… maggots don’t just eat dead flesh, you know...” Pinkie Pie drew her face closer, the decomposing death masque tearing as the mares manically wide, maggot ridden smile broke the cheek’s flesh; still maintaining her accurate impersonation regardless of the sadistic amusement present within her wide blue eyes, “they can eat fruit, too…”

Applebloom writhed on the ground as her fight or flight response fully kicked into gear, speeding adrenaline around her body as her legs scrambled to get to her hooves, slipping and sliding over her own expelled stomach contents and the hot filling of the apple pie.

“But you know what they say!” Pinkie Pie giggled manically, breaking character as she snapped her forelegs out to wrap them about Applebloom’s neck, capturing her instantly to crush the mare against her chest; subsequently cutting off her supply of oxygen.

“An apple a day…” Pinkie Pie chimed as she clenched tighter about the filly’s neck, feeling the filly’s struggles weaken with each passing moment, “granted, you were the wrong type of apple I had planned for, but I suppose you will have to do for now. But hey! I am sure if we wait long enough your big sister or brother will surely come looking for you and they can join in on the fun, too!”

Weakly, Applebloom helplessly beat her slowing hooves at the arms about her neck, her wide bulging eyes becoming bloodshot as she felt her body burn with the need to breathe, her mouth wide as saliva frothed from her gurgling attempts to draw air in.

“Shhh… it’s going to be okay… you can close your eyes… I’ll keep you safe…”

Stretching her hooves as high as she could, Applebloom pathetically struck out at Pinkie Pie’s muzzle, merely breaking and peeling back the death masque from Pinkie’s beaming face, causing little to no injury to the living flesh underneath.

“Oh! I’ve got the perfect song! Fluttershy sung this to me a couple times when I couldn’t sleep. Wanna hear it? Yeah? Great!” Pinkie Pie giggled, impersonating Fluttershy’s voice once again, as she sung ever so beautifully.

“Hush now, quiet now, lay down your sleepy head…”

Applebloom’s eyes rolled back in her head as her body convulsed and finally sagged in Pinkie Pie’s grip.

“Hush now, quiet now, time to go to bed…”

At the abrupt limpness of the diminutive body in her grip, Pinkie Pie unfurled her legs from about the filly’s neck, allowing the unconscious body to slump onto the ground with an unceremonious thud.

“Aw, the poor thing must had been so tuckered out! Oh well… sweet dreams, little filly… but when you wake up? We’re going to have such fun…” Pinkie blinked, gasping as she threw her hooves to her cheeks, “...I KNOW!”

Pinkie Pie clapped, her eyes shining with glee as she continued.

“We should totally organise a surprise party for your sister before she arrives!” Pinkie Pie bounced merrily in a giggling circle around Applebloom’s unconscious form, the pink mare’s once straight hair springing back to its curly crazed state which at one point, was the norm for the mare, “and there will be cakes! And balloons! And smiles; lots and lots of smiles! Streamers of all kind of colours! And punch! And cider… and…”

Slowing in her maddened dance of death, Pinkie Pie’s smile drew sinister as she regarded the little filly, moving to press an ear to Applebloom’s chest, listening out for a heartbeat to which she could just about make out.

“And tears. Delicious, delicious, tears… and blood. Glorious, blood! And you know what, Applebloom? I’ve just got the most awesome-est and perfectest idea for the most succulentest apple to ever be pied…” Pinkie Pie raked her surgical gaze along the filly’s length, assessing cuts of meats that required harvesting for the festivities, “…let’s both do our best to make sure your siblings enjoys every mouth-watering morsel! And you know what? You should be happy! Just like Sweetie Belle, your big sister is gonna eat you all up, except this time, it will be over a romantic candle lit dinner with me!”

Giggling, Pinkie Pie spun on the spot several times, “I’m so nervouscited! I can’t wait to tell her how much I love her! How much I’ve thought about her since I was locked away!”

Abruptly, Pinkie Pie’s face contorted into a fierce scowl, spittle leaking from her lips as she hissed.

“And just how deep this maggot has eaten its way into her core… Tehehe!”

Author's Note

Update: There is a sequel! Maggots and Apples: Eternal Party

Equivocator

Suspended from the ceiling, the small office space oversaw much of the Factory’s innerworkings: from the holding pens to the far righthoof corner; which perpetually contained a variety of ponies from earth, unicorn to pegasus in varying states of distress and despair - their wailing sorrows drowned out only by the mechanical workings of the Factory itself.

From the pens next came the rather crude - yet effective processing equipment that ranged from grinders, mashers and filters that took up a vast majority of the middle of the sprawling complex of death; feeding a massive filtration and refining construct that spewed out its refined mixture into gaping vats that were all neatly lined up next to each other on the left of the factory, the contents of which bubbled and swirled like colorful whirlpools that threw that side of the room in an eerily stunning glow of spectral hues that should had been dazzling - but for the prisoners - it was merely the finished product of their end. ”We’ll bang, okay?”

It brokered no solace for their condemned souls.

Between these three main sections, a labyrinth of pipes, vents and other assorted equipment filled up the rest of the empty space, leaving little room to move about, yet, it allowed just enough space for strategically constructed catwalks that allowed the workforce access to the majority of the pipelines and ventilation ducts for the Factory’s constant and around the clock maintenance, which was attended to by expert engineers, trained by Princess Twilight Sparkle herself.

Despite how crude and chaotic it all looked, Rainbow Dash’s Factory was a finely oiled machine and she could not help but grin as the swelling pride in her chest blossomed out as she surveyed the team of fourteen ponies she commanded from her office window attending to their necessary duties as per their role within this elaborate execution center.

At first, when Rainbow Dash had learnt the terrible truth behind the purpose of the Factory, she found herself plagued with mixed emotions on the subject. It was disgusting and wrong to execute ponies-innocent ponies at that, but she knew that despite how wrong it was, it was indeed for a cause greater than anything she could fathom.

The longer she worked here, the more her perception changed of the world she lived in.

Rather than finding herself disgusted in the grim truth that ponies were executed and brutalized before her on a day to day basis, Rainbow Dash came to accept that such a situation was simply a part of life.

Besides, these were not just worthless ponies that had no place in Equestrian society with their lack of useful talents. A lot of them came from the Processing Facility, where murderers, rapists and other such scum awaited their end at the Rainbow Factory’s mechanisms.

However, unlike the talentless dolts Rainbow felt somewhat sympathetic towards, the scum that came from the Processing Facility deserved every bit of what was going to happen to them and much, much more.

The error of their ways and the error of them ever being born will be made fully known to them once they witnessed the sheer, heartless bloodshed that was present in Rainbow’s methods towards their wretched ilk.

Rainbow Dash scuffed a hoof on the ground as she huffed angrily through her nose, the spectrum of liquid rainbow speckling her irritated features.

“Just like that crazy pink bitch that killed Rarity and her sister and almost got her hooves on Applejack,” Rainbow Dash muttered under her breath, her teeth gritting together as she hissed out a pained whisper, “and killed Scootaloo…”

A momentary sadness swelled within Rainbow Dash’s chest as her scowl dissipated, her eyes misting, “Oh, Scoots… I miss you, kid. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you… I’ll come by after I clean up after work and visit you, okay? Sound like a deal?”

The empty office gave no response.

“Cool.”

Many questions plagued Rainbow Dash.

Such questions had plagued her and had embittered the mare for the last two years. They were very, very simple ones at that-so simple in fact Rainbow Dash was boggled as to her consistent evasion of the solution.

And that question?

Why had that pink haired abomination been allowed to live as long as she had?

How many times has Rainbow Dash written strongly worded letters to Princess Twilight Sparkle in regards to speeding up the processing of that insane mare and have her dragged kicking and scream into the Rainbow Factory’s grinders…

Not that Pinkie Pie would die in such a direct approach. She would have the pleasure of dying a slowly and as painfully as she tortured her victims and Rainbow Dash would make sure of that.

Personally.

“Two years. Two, fricken years it took me to be in charge of this place. Yet even when I finally reach the top of the chain; getting the authority to call upon useless ponies to fill my vats whenever I want, I still cannot get the one mare I want most of all...”

Lifting a spectrum stained cyan hoof up to the window, she gently caressed her own reflection as a fire burned within her stomach and deep within her scornful eyes.

“I want her... I want revenge!” Rainbow Dash removed her hoof from the window, and observed the spectrum shaped hoofprint she left behind, “I want to watch her squirm. I want to lower her bit by bit into the grinders hooves first… I want to shower in her blood and burn the remains! I want her to suffer like she made Scoots, Rarity and Appleja-”

Rainbow Dash clenched her eyes shut as she caught herself saying Applejack’s name with a touch too much familiarity and emotion than was necessary.

She had momentarily forgotten a change in her life that also plagued her recent thoughts.

Rainbow Dash had broken up with Applejack yesterday after perhaps some of the best sex they ever had and now only twenty-four hours later, has she begun to regret her actions.

It was not just about the sex, mind you. It was all about the passion she felt for the farm pony as their bodies hotly intertwined.

Rainbow Dash had crushed on Applejack for a long, long time, so when they finally got together a year after the capture of Pinkie Pie, it was perhaps a dream come true. It was a difficult path they trotted, but they did it together and fought to overcome Applejack’s depression when she had learnt the truth of the murders and who was the pony to blame.

A close friend, no less…

A friend that she allowed to play with Applebloom alone, on many occasions.

A friend that murdered her other friends and good honest ponyfolk who did nothing at all to ever harm another.

A friend that Applejack confessed, she was slowly starting to fall for.

...A friend Rainbow Dash spitefully reminded Applejack’s affiliation with in a moment of blind fury.

“I totally bucked up…” Rainbow Dash felt her head fall forward and her forehead lightly strike the windowpane with a dull thud, her eyes half lidded as tears swelled up within the corners.

“Why did I say those things? I’m such an idiot. It was uncool. I really love her and yet all I seem to do is hurt her.”

She knew the reason why.

It was this Factory.

Although she did not want to admit it, Applejack was right. She had changed and it was because of this job.

How could she explain to Applejack what it was that she did here? She was sworn to secrecy. Breaking that secrecy meant anypony involved would find themselves too on the business end of a grinder to maintain the cover up.

“I’ve become such a shadowy version of myself, I just… I just don’t feel like me, anymore. Applejack isn’t the one that’s uncool. It’s me. I’m the wrong one. I’m the evil one… I’m the one that kills ponies. I’m the one that gives in to her lusts. I’m the one that has been disloyal to her...”

Rainbow Dash bit her lower lip at the sudden admission of infidelity.

Rainbow Dash, had been disloyal.

The word stung deep yet it was the knock on the door that caused her to visibly flinch, knowing full well who was on the other side.

Despite her recent admission to how wrong everything she had ever done was, Rainbow Dash knew she was only kidding herself in one regards.

Rainbow Dash enjoyed every moment-every death and every second she succumbed to her darkest desires. It felt empowering to be in a position where life and death was within your hooves to snuff out or to save for other purposes.

Other such purposes she had devised that was currently standing on the other side of that door.

A purpose she could very much use the comfort of right now to forget about a certain farm pony.

“Come in,” Rainbow Dash steeled her resolve even as her mind screamed out for her to stop. She turned to sit at her desk with her eyes locked upon the door as a grey mare stepped nervously on in.

“Y-you wanted to see me, chief?”

“Close the door,” Rainbow Dash intoned monotonously.

The grey mare nodded and whimpered as she gingerly closed the door behind her, “I-I didn’t do a-anything w-wrong today, chief… D-did you need me for something?”

“You know exactly what I want, Ditzy.”

The wall eyed mare whimpered and nodded, looking away, “I-I know, but—”

“Is there a problem?”

“N-No…” Ditzy lowered her head.

“Then come here,” Rainbow Dash motioned with a hoof to come hither, “if you value your life then you will shut your mouth, mount this desk and stick your flank up in the air. That is all you are useful for, after all.”

“P-please, chief, I’m still sore from yesterday and my daughter has been asking about the bruises and I—”

Rainbow Dash stood up from her chair and moved towards Ditzy who only backed up until she was against the door. Savagely, Rainbow Dash slammed both of her hooves either side of Ditzy’s head, trapping the mare between herself and the door.

Leaning in, Rainbow Dash planted a tender kiss to Ditzy’s neck, idly nipping at the hide in between words.

“You know exactly what happens to ponies that become useless...”

Trembling, Ditzy nodded, clenching her eyes shut as she felt Rainbow Dash’s lips capture her own for a kiss.

As Ditzy squirmed against Rainbow Dash’s body, she felt her superior’s tongue invade her mouth, which sloppily writhed against her own momentarily before it slipped out of her mouth and left a glistening trail of saliva on its course as it slithered down her neck.

“C-chief,” Ditzy pleaded, “please, stop...”

Rainbow Dash panted heavily as her tongue flicked back up under Ditzy’s chin, a heavy blush surging upon the cyan mare’s cheeks as she grinned mischievously at the wall eyed mare.

“No.”