Blade

Pinkamena raised her pickaxe and brought it down on a large rock, shattering it into several pieces. She had been particularly lucky that time. There were some gems in the broken pieces. She put her pickaxe down and gathered up the pieces with the gems in them, using her thick coal stained apron to hold them. She got back down on her fours and held the apron tab with her mouth, making her way toward the row’s cart. When Pinkamena got to the cart, she let the apron go from her teeth, causing the gem bits to fall into it. Afterward, she went back to her place in the row, picked her pickaxe back up, stood on her hind legs, and began to swing it at the pile of rocks that had been laid in front of her.

Pinkamena’s teeth chattered and many parts of her body were numb. The snow’s bitter coldness stung her hind legs, which were buried in it up to the ankles. She put her pickaxe down for a moment to rub her hooves together furiously in hope to create heat from the friction. Afterward, she looked around, praying that nobody had seen her.

She had done it three other times now. One would think that it would get easier for her to brave the cold, cold winters over time, but no. It got worse every year.

Nearly four years since she had accepted the ‘job’ offer from Kanker, Pinkamena was now twenty one years old.

Things still hadn’t changed.

The job was an assortment of labors: Finding rocks, moving rocks, piling rocks, breaking rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks.

Rocks.

It was the same bullshit she had been given her whole life.

One would think that it would be bearable if at least she was getting an income, but Pinkamena got nothing more than a rusty shack with some blankets and limited access to a cafeteria nearby. Kanker said that she should count herself lucky he was able to find her very own ‘working station’ rather than having to share one like the others did.

Pinkamena’s colleges did whatever she wasn’t doing. It was a rotation.

The one that Pinkamena knew better than the other, was Cherry Cola; A very hard working earth pony colt. Pinkamena and Cherry had minimal interaction, but they had had enough to know each other’s names and origins. Unlike Pinkamena, Cherry had a home and a loving wife. He accepted the job at minimum wage and had worked there for the last five years, but Kanker always gave him below minimum anyway.

The other pony that worked the field during her shift (which was most, if not all of the day), was named Brolly. He, a white pegasus, had worked there for only three years. For no reason at all, Kanker treated him the best. The best however, was still horrible.

Pinkamena raised her pickaxe again and brought it down onto another rock. As the rock shattered, a small fragment flew right into Pinkamena’s eye.

She screamed in pain, clawing at the spot right on her eyelid that it had penetrated. Normally, it wouldn’t have hurt so bad, but it had hit right about where her father’s bottle had cut her those four years ago.

She was never sure why, but it always ached whenever something stressing or bad happened to her. It hurt the worst when the voice was there though.

Right alongside her, the voice had also grown. It was now unbearable to listen to its hideous, grating voice. Pinkamena would prefer being carved open then to have to listen to the voice for more than a couple of seconds. The medicine now wore off sooner, and the things it said were worse now. Much worse. Things that kept her awake at night.

“Pinkie…Pinkie…I’m becoming real, Pinkie.” It would taunt. “One of these days I’ll just leap right out of your head and chew your guts right out of your belly.”

Pinkamena couldn’t bear it. It was dreadful. No. Dreadful wasn’t powerful enough. She didn’t know a word that was powerful enough to describe the fear, hatred, anxiety and dread the thought of the voice coming back brought.

Some might have asked why didn’t she just quit her so called ‘job’ and find a new one.

Kanker had her medicine.

He had Pinkamena by the throat and he knew he did. She couldn’t look at herself, knowing that not only had she been stupid enough to trust a complete stranger and take the first thing presented to her, but to just give him the medication when he requested it.

Kanker would give her the medicine when she needed it, but only if she had been good. ‘Good’, of course, meant absolutely nothing. Kanker would tease her with tardy judgments, counting off things she had done that ‘took off points’, most of them made up on the spot.

When he had had enough fun torturing her, her would give her the pill and half a glass of dirty water. What Pinkamena hated the most about this routine was the stupid laugh he would always sound off when he slid her the filthy glass. After downing the dose, she would be sent back to work bitterly, back into the cold and out of his heated office.

Pinkamena held her eye tighter, trying to stop the steady bleeding. She crumbled to her knees and began to weep, like she often did at night.

In the midst of a brief memory about Ariel, the voice rang out in her brain.

“Owey! Owey!” It mocked. “Having fun Pinkie? I’ll bet it won’t be long before your blood freezes and you die out here, so I can finally escape.”

Pinkamena’s eyes widened into saucers. She threw her head back and screamed.

No. Please. PLEASE. I can’t bear a single second! PLEASE!

Pinkamena forgot about the cut in her eye and ran toward the small building at the end of the field, which was right on the edge of the Everfree Forest.

As she ran the voice continued laughing. It was like nails being hammered into her heart, head and ears all at once. It echoed in her mind and soon turned into the cackle of crows that were no doubt straight from hell.

Oh, make it stop. Dear God, please make it all stop!

Pinkamena burst in through the door the second she made it and dashed through the lobby, trying to drown out the voice’s hate.

“That’s you, Pinkie. Always running from something.” It cackled.

Pinkamena burst through the doors to Kanker’s office. Kanker, who was enjoying a cigar at the moment, sprang up in surprise.

“Fucking hell! What the fuck do you want, Pinkamena!?” He yelled back in retaliation.

Pinkamena got on her knees and crawled up to the desk.

“Please, Kanker! I need my medicine! Please! Please just skip the routine. I need it right now! She begged.

Kanker hadn’t seen her that desperate in some time. An repulsive idea went off in his evil head.

“Sorry, Pinkamena. I can’t give it to ya unless you’ve been a good girl today.” He said snidely.

Tears gathering in her vision, she bowed down ever further, clasping her two hooves together and shaking them at him.

“Kanker. Please. PLEASE. I’ll do anything!”

Kanker knew she would have said that. He added to the cliché.

“Anything?” He said smoothly.

He put his hoof to his chin and put on the fakest thinking cap Pinkamena had ever seen. His sarcasm made things all the worse. She couldn’t wait another second. She thought she would go mad if she already hadn’t.

“Well…” Kanker finally decided. “There is one thing you could do.”

“Kanker, I said I’ll do anything! That means anything! I just need my medicine, please, Kanker!” She pleaded.

“Oh alright then.” Kanker said with a grin growing on his awful mug.

Then he said it.

“Suck my cock.”