A pink earth pony blinked into existence.
She hadn't existed a second ago, and yet she'd been there for years. The pony took a moment to reflect on this. She had a lifetime of memories, but it was clear as day that they weren't hers. Well, they were hers, but she hadn't experienced them. It was as if her entire life had been a play, and she had simply been in the audience.
At a certain point in her mind, the memories had become surreal and strange, devoid of all color. Anger and sadness swirled through them, two emotions she could not remember having very often before that point. In the part of her brain that knew what was going on, it was apparent that the collection of strange memories had something to do with the closet she was opening. She didn't have to think about opening the closet, her hands moved without her. They, like the rest of her body, were controlled by that small part of her brain that wasn't exactly her.
Inside the closet was what appeared to be a black rod, carved with a strange pattern. The pony had never seen anything like it before and had no idea why she had one in her house. She held it with both her forelegs and somehow walked out of her room on only two legs. In the hallway, she dug deep into her mind looking for its name, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't recognize the rod she was holding. However, hidden memories swirled in and out of her brain, messages from herself warning her not to do whatever she was about to do. The pony probably should have been terrified, but instead she was only confused. What was she about to do? Why was it so important?
Somehow, she managed to descend a staircase without falling. The pony was trying to figure out what exactly she was about to do when a turquoise pony appeared in front of her, wearing a white apron and a cheery smile.
"Hi, Pinkie. What's-"
Her sentence was cut short when in one swift movement, the pony pointed the mysterious rod at her and flexed one of her hooves, moving the lever attached to it.
Instantly, a deafening bang echoed through the building, and the pony was blown backwards by the force of the blast. Her weapon tore itself away from her hooves. When she looked up, she saw the turquoise pony who had greeted her lying bleeding on the floor. Her very mind seemed to jump a metre to the left at the sight. Suddenly, horribly, she understood the answers to all the questions she wished she had never asked herself. She silently begged her mouth to obey her and scream for help, but all she emitted was a soft chuckle as her hooves picked up the weapon.
The pony charged out the door to her home, waving the rod around like a crazy pony. Her hoof hammered relentlessly against the lever. Screams filled the air as more and more ponies fell. The pink earth pony was desperate to add her own scream to the chaos, but every sound she tried to make only came out as that horrible, deranged laugh. On the outside, her face remained cheerful, but deep inside, she was sobbing. Another step. Another twitch of the hoof. Another death each second. With every fibre of her being, she begged herself to stop, but the small part of her mind that wasn't her maintained control. She wasn't a pony anymore. She was a disembodied consciousness, watching helplessly as her body became a soulless puppet.
A purple unicorn ran towards her, sobbing, screaming at her to stop. In an instant, blood streamed from the unicorn's chest as she joined the fallen ranks of those who she was trying to protect. Her pleading eyes looked up at the pony who used to be her friend. The pony who, unbeknownst to her, was fighting to rush to her aid. In the end, her efforts failed, and she was unable to even shed a tear.
Next, a Pegasus landed next to her and tried to wrestle the black rod away from her.
"This isn't you, Pinkie! Whatever that thing is, put it down! You're hurting ponies!"
The pony wanted to scream at her to run and save herself, but as always, all she could do was laugh, even as she watched her best friend's skull shatter. Bloodstained pieces of bone clung to her mane. She could taste the salty, mushy pieces of pony that had landed in her open mouth. She wanted so badly to cry, but the smile remained.
A scream of rage echoed through her ears.
An orange pony charged at her, legs outstretched, ready to strike. The pink pony desperately wished the attack would succeed, but it seemed that luck wasn't on her side. Her third friend met the same fate as the others.
Next, a white unicorn flew at her, legs poised in an ancient fighting technique, her blue eyes sparkling with the lethal energy of grief and anger.
Her innards fell hard against the ground.
Finally, she cornered a yellow Pegasus against a building. She wanted to scream as she stamped her hooves hard down onto the poor pony's wings to prevent her flying away. The pink pony leaned close into her victim's face, staring into her sparkling, pleading eyes, unable to control the twisted snarl she wore. Slowly, she rose the black rod to the Pegasus's face and uttered that chuckle she hated so much. Her hoof snapped backwards.
For a few minutes, the pony paused, much to her own relief, staring at the gory mess that used to be a pony. She looked around at the bloodstained bodies and panicked survivors, then watched as her hoof slowly raised the weapon to her own face.
A pink earth pony blinked into existence.
