The Traveling Bakers

She wore a light brown cloak covering her whole body, which was unusual given the time of year, early summer, but it was dismissed as being a personal style.  A dark pink color mare she kept her Pegasus wings under her cloak and her mane was flat and well cared for and it accented her warm and kind smile.  She wore a necklace that clacked and knocked under her cloak but it was hidden except for the brown tie string.

She and another mare - a yellow pony in her teens with a cutie mark of two apples on top of each other and a baker hat - were pulling an older looking covered wagon that obviously doubled as a very small house for the duo.  It bore a hand painted sign that, in red letters with red balloons, read “The Traveling Bakers”

They were beginning to be known as a great baking duo that sold great desserts at really low prices!  No one knew where they were from but it was obvious they weren’t doing what they did for the money, but more to see the joy in others faces as they nibbled their treats and confections.  They were always happy and joyful, doling out joy, jokes and compliments with every purchase.

Traveling from town to town and the occasional city in a rout that brought them to the same cities around the same time people began expecting their brief return; typically lasting only a few days before disappearing in the middle of the night.

Traversing between towns had given the mares some confidence as they carried out their dark work.  The teenage pony looked up at her friend after a while of walking for most of an evening, seeing another blossoming berg ahead.  “Pinkamena, what are our supplies like?  I know we’re low on flour but we got enough secret ingredient for this town, right?”

“Yeah,” the pink pony replied from under her cloaked head, “We’re good but we’ll need to make a withdraw before we leave town for supplies traveling.”  Her natural smile having become a nature frown, her brow slightly furrowed and her eyes half open; a darkness in them that made her into a new pony.  She decided they would camp out before entering the small town ahead.

Climbing into the worn looking wagon she smiled as she looked around at their small home.  It was tight, but home.  There was a small area stacked with a small oven and stovetop, surrounded by fire resistant cloth made from an unfortunate dragon they had crossed a while back.  Killing her had been a challenge and proved almost too much for the six.

Removing her cloak she shook side to side slightly, feeling the material rub against her hide, the material of her old dress, made from cutie marks.  She looked a lot like her older sister Inkie now.  She had adopted her persona for traveling, trying her best to not be too excitable, lest she be caught.

She slid the custom dress off and set it on a mannequin, lightly brushing her cheek against the material it, taking a step back when the scent hit her, making her smile.  It smelt of blood, albeit slight: memories of her secret life flooding her memories.  Her last memory was of Fluttershy, Applebloom holding the Pegasus pony down, as she cut her friend open.

Her screams filling the bakery as she watched her internal organs being removed and tossed around.  She was given a shot of adrenaline into her beating heart to keep her awake.  They removed everything except her lungs and heart, to keep her alive as long as they could.

“She was stronger than that I thought.” Gruffly Applebloom said as she ran over to join the fray of carnage.  Another shot into Fluttershys still beating heart, making it race as blood left her body faster than they wanted.  Her eyes rolling up from overdosing on adrenaline she heard her old friend Pinkie say the last words she would hear, “Life is a party, and you can’t get away from a great party like this!” her cheerful voice fading into eternal silence.

Turning Fluttershy into a large batch of cupcakes they left behind they left late at night and took a long way around and through town, knowing the streets would be empty.  They walked past their old homes and lives and left taking only a small cart with a few baking supplies, knives, torture tools, straps and their cake.

Shaking her head and hearing her necklace of unicorn horns clacking brought her back to the moment.  Pinkamena walked over to a large dresser with stickers of fun things decorating it.  She opened a drawer and took out a piece of candy, with an eye in it.

She looked at it and said, “I’m keeping my eye on you, watch out for me too, Derpy.”

“I am watches over you, friend.” She cooed in a mocking voice, but a little shaky too.

“Me too, Sis,” She exclaimed in a different voice, reaching into the drawer removing a candied piece of meat. “I’ve got you in my heart.”

Her voice excited and bubbly as she held a conversation with her candied friends.

Standing guard outside Applebloom listened in on another one sided conversation of her only remaining sister in blood.  She looked at the ground thinking of how they lost the others.

It wasn’t a fun way to die, and none of them were happy with that.    They only had and needed each other, but the work was still lonely, and often she would cry to herself.

Pinkamena often heard Applebloom crying and dismissed it, not as weakness but as her strength for them both, since Pinkamena wouldn’t cry:  not for pain or for death, she wouldn’t allow it.  She had to honor her playmates that way.

Pinkamena was doing this for years before she let Derpy join in, even.  She can do it alone, she was sure.  Applebloom didn’t mind killing baking and eating/selling their playmates so she reasoned it was her lot in life.  Taking a bit of a blanket that was draped over the back of the wagon she covered her flanks and laid down, getting comfortable, listening to her sisters talking in the wagon, she smiled and drifted off to sleep.