Luna's

Luna’s
Chapter 12

As I stood there, at the cusp of darkness, I suddenly felt a familiar sense of dread slowly creeping up my spine. This dark hallway—the very one Luna had warned me about before—was all that stood between me and clean fur. The air grew frigid against my skin, but that may have been from my wine-soaked fur. I couldn’t reek of wine for the rest of the night, and some silly darkness shouldn’t scare me. So I did what any grown pony would do and puffed out my chest while taking the first step.

Luna’s held drunk farmers, cruel nobles, delusional recluses, and the titular barkeep herself, but surely crazed murderers were a step too far even for this place, right?

After a few steps into the darkness, a growing sliver of light appeared at the end of the hall, followed by the creak of an old hinge. My hooves froze in their tracks. My ears swivelled, and I caught a choir of faint sounds. Sniffles and sobs muffled from just behind that door. I took a cautious step and swallowed in anticipation.

A sudden crack that was akin to an axe splitting wood sliced through the air. I nearly leapt out of my skin, and my heart stopped dead. When it started again, a tremble ripped through my foreleg and up my body.

The sobbing continued.

And against my better judgment, so did I. Slowly I crept along the dark hallway towards the crack of light. Call it curiosity or concern—I didn’t know which myself, and to be honest, it was most likely a mixture of the two—but I drew closer and closer to the door.

Another loud crack, and the tremors surged through me again. I nearly screamed, but managed to keep my voice in and heart still.

I pushed further. Slow and careful as to not let a single clap of my hoof on the wood floor be heard. At last I stood outside the door. The source of the sniffling was just beyond, and my heart thumped in my ears. I pressed my face to the crack and peered inside.

My vision flared in blinding light, but once it adjusted, I saw an average restaurant kitchen. Large stove, sink, fryer, island for prep work, refrigerator—nothing out of the ordinary.

But as I scanned the kitchen, a sniffle drew my attention to a lone mare with a bubblegum-pink coat. Her mane, a few shades darker than her fur, drooped like each individual hair had a weight attached. Although it was surely impossible for her to see from behind the curtain of her mane, she held a knife in both forehooves, tip pointed towards the sky.

The knife slammed hard into a cutting board sending the tip of a carrot flying. I jumped again, but not because I was startled. The force with which she swung the knife made it clear. Anger surrounded her like a cloud, and that blade was her release. While she might not be an axe murderer, killing with a knife wouldn’t be too many steps removed.

With that dreadful thought snaking its way to the forefront of my mind—along with a gruesome image of myself strung up and bloody—I decided to take my leave. I stepped back from the door slowly, but a loud squeal came as soon as I put weight on my hoof. My eyes shot down to catch sight of a loose floorboard in the light spilling out from the cracked door. The chopping and sniffling cut off, and when I looked back through the crack, my heart stopped.

The mare’s head turned. From behind the veil of mane, her eyes stood out like pinprick lights on a carriage. Small pupils imbedded in her wide, bloodshot, tear-soaked eyes locked onto mine. My heart dropped like a rock in my chest, but despite my hooves feeling like lead, one thought rang out in my head.

Go.

I scrambled, hooves scrabbling against the hardwood, until I propelled myself forward. But it was too late. Before I even made the second step, my forelegs crossed and I fell flat on my still-sore chin. The door swung open, illuminating the dark hall. A shadow cast over me like looming death as a chill ran up my spine.

"Who are you?" she asked, voice soft and sweet. The words were muffled by something.I turned to see the madmare staring down at me with the same wide eyes, head tilted to the side. The knife handle was clenched tightly in her teeth.

"I-I’m just—" I rolled onto my back and held my hooves up for defense. Not like it would matter—she had me right where she wanted me.

She tilted her head further. Her eyes ran over my whole body, from mane to tail. Suddenly, her pupils widened, and she sucked in a lungful of air. "You’re new!" Her timid voice suddenly burst with enthusiasm. Her mane inflated with her gasp, until it finally popped into a curly mess.

I didn’t have a chance to react. I was hoisted off the floor and spirited into the kitchen before I could even blink.

With a quick snap of her head, the knife was sent tumbling through the air. With a cartoonish thwack, it stuck straight down into the wooden countertop. "And I mean new new. I’ve never seen you here before!” Suddenly I was sent twirling in place before being whipped at the island counter, and held at leg length. When the world stopped spinning, I found myself staring into her impossibly large grin. Larger than any I had ever seen before. Her teeth glinted almost unnaturally, polished to perfection.

Her pupils bounced like balls, and then before I knew it, she was the one bouncing. Up and down, like a filly high on sweets. “What’s your name? Where are you from? What’s your birthday? Favoritecolor?Food?Song?Dance?Flavoroftherainbow—" Words poured from her mouth like a waterfall. I barely registered what she was asking after a point. Everything ran together with her mouth flapping faster and faster until the noise just became gibberish.

Finally she stopped, sucking in a desperate lungful of air. It was then that I took my chance. "I just came to use the washroom."

She snorted, followed by a delightfully cheery giggle. "Well, that’s across the hall, silly."

I cracked an uncomfortable smile as I tried to slip free from her grasp. “I see. Then I suppose I should be going then.”

“Hold on!” she blurted out. Before I could get loose, she dove in, and snaked her forelegs around me in a tight hug.

My body stiffened, and I pinched my eyes closed. The tight embrace, and feeling of her fur mingling in my own sent a dreadfully sick feeling crawling across my skin.

“I hardly ever get visitors back here!” The world was moving again. I rattled to and fro as she hefted me off the ground and swung me about.

“I wonder why,” I choked out through the vise-like hug. Suddenly I was airborne—or more so, at least. Her grip was gone, and I flew up, before abruptly coming back down into her waiting grasp.

“I don’t know,” she replied. When my vision settled I saw a half-frown on her face. But like a switch had been flipped, that vanished as quickly as it came, and once more was replaced with her gigantic smile. I honestly missed dealing with the drunkard, the bitch, and even Luna’s sadistic tendencies over this clingy girl. "So, you just stopped in to use the restroom? You should totally get a room and we can spend more time together! Then you can come visit me every day!"

I planted a hoof on her chest, pressing against her like a trapped cat in a child’s grip. "Well, I have a room."

Her smile fell ever so slightly. The excitement that had illuminated her gaze like a ballroom had fizzled into nothing. With no light and a creepy smile, she seemed hollow. "How long have you been here?"

I swallowed. That sense of dread I had felt while creeping up in the hallway was back. But instead of a door between us, I was now staring danger right in the face. "I honestly can’t say. More than a few days, at least."

Her hair popped—that’s the best way to describe it. Like a balloon with a hole, it deflated from the frizzled mess to the straight locks I had first seen her with. "And you didn’t come see me?" Her voice was small, almost frail. Like the most gentle of breezes would pick it up and carry it away. Her smile was a distant memory now, those dead eyes paired with only a quivering lower lip.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I should have?” As she became more and more pathetic by the passing second, every instinct of mine screamed to get away from her. I glanced to the knife, still firmly planted in the counter.

When I looked back, small pools hung on her lower eyelids. “I-I just…” She sniffled, and the dam broke. “I just never have anypony come back here.”

“I honestly didn’t—”

“No, it’s okay.” Her forelegs dropped down to her sides as her ears and head drooped. “Who would want to see me anyway?” Slowly she turned back towards the counter. Her hoof brushed against the knife handle before pulling it down towards her. “I’m just the creepy cook.”

My body tensed. “N-no, why would you say that?”

She swung back around to face me. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest, the cold of the blade piercing my heart, and fear consume my mind. But then I shook my head, and the pain was gone. I glanced to my side, and saw the knife’s handle tucked innocently between her hoof and my shoulder, the blade pointed safely away. My gaze trailed down to see her head planted firmly against my chest, and warm tears soaking into my already wine-drenched fur.

“You know why! I know what you’re thinking! Why else wouldn’t you come see me?” She looked up with soggy, bloodshot eyes. "I’m not good enough."

Suddenly the door swung open. “There you are.” I spun to find Luna standing there like she had been waiting for just the right moment. Her eyes hung heavy, but a sadistic smirk hung on her lips. “I came as soon as I realized I told you the door on the left when I should have said right.” She paused, and glanced to the side. “Well, shortly after I realized. I see you’ve met our delightful chef, Pinkie Pie.”

“Luna!” the mare—Pinkie, I suppose—cried out. She dropped the knife once more and ran to Luna. She grabbed the taller mare by the shoulders and shook her. “Why can’t I just talk to ponies?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Because this happens.” She pointed towards me.

"I’m better, I swear! I won’t embarrass myself again!" Pinkie pleaded, burying her face into Luna’s chest.

"That’s what you said last time before that mare tripped into you and you both burst into tears." Luna rolled her eyes. "Besides, what do you call this?"

When Pinkie turned to look at me, she sniffled. Luna shrugged off Pinkie’s grip, letting the emotional mare’s forelegs drop to her sides once more. She then consolingly patted Pinkie on the head. “Ponies can’t handle others who can’t handle themselves.” Her gaze trailed from Pinkie to me. “If only you didn’t worry so much about what others think, you might not break down so often. After all, those who can’t stand alone won’t find stability in others.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I was starting to feel singled out, the way her eyes were on me rather than the one she was speaking to. “It’s not right to keep her trapped back here,” I retorted. “Just like you keep Twilight upstairs.”

Luna smirked. “I don’t keep anypony against their will. She’s free to go visit anytime.”

Pinkie sniffled. “Ponies don’t like me, so I stay back here. I just make them uncomfortable.”

“But don’t you want ponies to be your friend?” I asked.

She nodded.

“The duality of the pony mind,” Luna remarked, rubbing Pinkie’s mane. “Wanting something so desperately only to feel unworthy once it’s within reach. Remind you of anypony?” Luna’s eyes fixed on me, almost making me feel sick.

“No,” I replied dryly.

She shrugged in response. “Very well. This is why I told you not to come back here before. She’s quite a bit to handle.”

“Sorry.” Pinkie’s head fell, and her mane covered her face once more. “If I had time to prepare, it might’ve been more fun.”

Luna then motioned to the door. “If you still wish to clean up, it’s across the hall.”

I stepped to walk past them. My eyes fell on Pinkie, a disgusting pang of nausea boiling to the surface before I looked to the dark hallway. “Thank you,” I muttered before taking my leave.