Author's Note

Suri Polomare's POV

Up There – Down There: 11

I had gone to bed, like any other night. I need my sleep, just as I need my bits. What I don't need, is an assistant that abandons me, for what ever silly nonsense notion got to her this time. If not for her, I would have been claiming the prise, just like was my right to.

I am tired and sleepy, the day had been long and demanding. Striving for success is not an easy feat, it sucks the marrow out of your bones. I have worked hard to get, where I am now. Don't even bother trying to take that away from me.

The door to my bedroom is closed, the outer door securely locked. Finally I could have a moment of well deserved sleep, couldn't I. I had slipped in under the welcoming quilt, closing my eyes, feeling the day coming to an end.

There is something wrong, but I can barely open my eyes or care at this point. Only then I hear steps on my floor, she doesn't even bother hiding. I could clearly hear her as she closed in on me. Where did she come from? How did she manage to be in my home, let alone my bedroom and at this time of night? How did she even know where I live?

My mind turned into a blur of endless question I was never to have an answer to. I barely knew her or recognised her. The pink mare confidently moved up to my bed, looking down on me. Why would she have that toothy grin on her face?

“No, but see who is here!” Pinkie Pie hissed in a strange tone of voice, merely confusing me even further, although she was starting to scare me.

“Suri Polomare, wasn't it? Yes, with the stressed emphasis on was, you heard that right!” she then went on.

I just looked up, something was very wrong here, as if I had been seeing a horror movie, only I am the victim of the scene. I certainly didn't like hat it was starting to look like here. I just couldn't quite rouse myself up enough to react, or act on what was before me.

Then the next insane notion hit me, as if it had been a scene from the latest “Nightmare on Elm-street”?

I wanted to scream, to raise to my hooves and try to bolt out of the room, past the cruelly calm Pony slowly moving towards my bed, as if she was here to wake me up in order for me to get up to the next appointment. Did I have an appointment tomorrow, or was it a day off? I had no idea.

As slow as she may have been, all of a sudden, she was beside the bed. Only then she drew a blade. It isn't a knife, dagger or sward. It's a magical blade, as if forged out of darkness. There would be nothing leading back to the mare before me, no more than the nightmare phantom of the old horror movies. Why had I seen any of them, back when I had been the little fillie.

I guess fillies doesn't do as they were told, more than colts did. Why would either, they are merely foalish foals, not knowing what was good for them. I had been one of these fillies, back in the day. The good old days, as it turned out.

Then I thought I heard a demented laughter. Insane. Who or what ever it was before me, could be no Pony. Ponies just couldn't maintain such calm, then give off such a laughter.

“Oh, but you know me. You know of me. You know who I am!” the pink mare pronounced in an evil taunt as she moved closer.

“Since you will not remember who I am, I could as well tell you right now. You see, I am Pinkie Pie. Yes, my hair was curly when you last saw me, wasn't it?” she went straight to the point.

By now I had mustered as much as a weak nod. Was it the last reaction out of me?

“Ah yeah, I do see you do recall me, after all. As much as you may want to deny it. If not for me, but just as much for yourself. You want to see yourself as a good Pony, don't you?” she pressed on, with that demented look, as hard as steel.

I merely nodded, too weak to even mumble anything coherent enough even for myself to recognise it for speech. She certainly had scared the light out of me.

In the name of the darkness behind Luna in her guise as Nightmare Moon, what had I been trampling for this?

“I just so happen to know, I have all the time I could possibly want with you. There will be none to bother us, for the little time you have left amongst the living!” she pushed even further, clarifying both intent and situation.

“Wh-what?” I managed to stammer, only too weak to actually get any further in what I had originally intended to say.

“Good thing I stopped you, before you had a foal. Even Manehattan, as large a city as it may be is too small even for a single one like you. I am cutting your time short here. Right now!” she declared, as if she was saving me, rather than killing me?

“Do I need to explain what you are, any further?” she pointed out.

The blade she had produced now mere inches from my throat. I knew where this was going, I already felt the taste of blood in my mouth.

Soon, the blade touched me and the last of my doubts died along with my hope, my hopes and dreams. All the dreams for myself, my business and the fillie I had hoped to raise one day, not too far from now. I merely needed to find the right Stallion to, to sire the foal I had desired to have.

The mere thought of the Stallion I had hoped to sire my foal brought up a fresh pang of regret. There would be no Stallion for me and I would have no fillie. Just as what I had built up would die right along with me. I didn't even have an apprentice or assistant on my side. I am utterly alone.

“Oh, don't worry about any worldly woes. You will not even have much time to be bothered with the pain of your passing. Don't even worry about the blood that is about to cover your bed, soak it and then seep through and drip onto the floor. These are for others to be bothered with!” she expressed in what seems mockery, more than actually care for me.

Although I may be wrong on that point?

I certainly had been wrong on the point of that white Unicorn who had been foolish enough to go up against me. That error had cost me my assistant, aside from other opportunities, since the debacle had cast doubts on not just my honesty, but my capabilities and my work in general.

Then, all of a sudden she cut the thought short. The blade pressing against my skin, cutting the flow of air too thin for me to think clearly for more than the short moment.

“Guess it is your time. Time to say good-bye to what ever you hold dear, like your life, your home and what ever friends you may have had?” she pressed on.

My eyes went up wide for an instant, then I gave up. I realised this race was over and I had lost. This mare knew what she was doing. She had obviously had it all planned out, far in advance. She seems to be the mare who knows everything and never slipped or fell, no matter what you threw at her.

The first drop of blood fell on my snow white bed sheets. The sign of what was to come. My time was running out. Now it was truly the end.

I still felt the blade relentlessly press on, slowly insistently slipping through my flesh. She was slitting my throat and there was nothing I could ever have done about it. My tears slowly started to fall.

“You know what? Even if you had chosen to move to any other location, or tried to hide, I would still have found you. It would have changed nothing. At least, you lived out your last day bravely, for what little comfort there is in it?” she denounced, neither mocking not comforting, merely pointing out the inevitable in the situation.

Something in her voice told me, she knew it was true, there would have been no point, had I known what was to come. What had befallen upon me, this very night.

Then I felt the actual taste of blood in my mouth, as she blade penetrated my throat. I felt the blood slow down my throat. Her incredibly sharp blade apparently sliced so carefully, it didn't numb me with pain as I had imagined it inevitably had to do. Why had I not gone out? I should have been unconscious by now, but apparently I stubbornly refused, as if I did not know there was no point. I am already dead, even if I did not know it, or the fact had not quite reached me.

Feeling the blade slowly move down, further and further. There was nothing I could do at this point. She had only barely managed to rouse me enough to know I am dying, why?

Images flickered in and out before my eyes. Images of memories, images of ideas and dreams, the blurry images of what was going on before me in my very room at this very instant. Images, merely images. Nothing but pointless image of no consequence to me. I am not going to remember any of this by tomorrow as Celestia raises the sun, like every other day.

She is lowering my sun, just as Luna is raising my moon. The day is at an end and so am I. Was there yet more regret, but I can no longer see the images of what it is.

“Good bye, Suri Polomare. This is your very last instant in Celestias Equestria. You are bound to see Serberous in Tartarous!” she merely pronounced, as if she had been sitting judge over me and my life.

“Our aqueintance was sort and not very pleasant on either of us. I guess you will be just as happy, never to see me ever again?” she pointed out.

“Funny, she is right on that one. As much as I hated to admit it!” I thought.

Then her blade hit my spine, cutting my neck, then my head fell down onto the pillow, no longer mine. A corpse doesn't own material things.

Once the head had fallen off of the Pony, once known as Suri Polomare, Pinkie Pie resolutely withdrew her blade and the last trace of her presence was erased. She moved back to the abomination to nature she had left open. Once she stepped through, she closed the gap. There is nothing more to lead back to who had been in the room.

A dead body lay on the bed belonging to the late mare Suri Polomare. The message to who ever was to enter the room. A warning to other Ponies, driven by greed. An object to be picked up for burial.