A Killer's Mind

by Flutterbat276

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Pie Sisters, Original Character, Pinkie Pie
Length: 1946

Dig into the mind of the 4 Pie sisters as they give their inner thoughts as serial killers.

Warning: Contains violence and gore. This is NOT suitable for younger audiences (-14).
Welcome into the mind of a serial killer...well, actually four minds. These are the Pie sisters. Well-known bakers, party throwers, and overall nice ponies, right? Wrong. These are the ponies behind Ponyville's recent disappearances. Y'know, the ponies you've unknowingly eaten countless times, wondering how in the wide world of Equestria they taste so delicious! That is, until you end up being the next pony on their list. Look into what these girls have going on in their minds and what they see in Equestria and its civilians right here!

Published 2015-08-07 03:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-07 03:00:02 UTC

Chapter One: Pinkamena Diane Pie

Author's Note

My first gore story, I am working on 2 other stories but they are not out to the public as of June 16th 2015. Maybe after a while when I figure this sight out, I will upload them. For now, enjoy this story which dives into the minds of the 4 Pie sisters. First is Pinkie Pie, so this is a little lighter than the others soon to come. Thank you and enjoy reading!

Chapter One: Pinkamena Diane Pie

I am Pinkamena. I am resposible for the disappearing a in Ponyville. I do not work alone, as my three older sisters, Inkie, Blinkie, and Minkie Pie all share my hobby. This hobby is baking, more importantly, getting the secret ingredient. What is this ingredient you ask? Why it's none other than sugar, love, and flesh. Pony flesh gathered from our victims.

What I see in the world is a place that needs more joy, but also a place that needs cupcakes baked to perfection. The right ingredients go a long way, and ponies are selected to be that sweet little touch, that extra something, that makes our cakes pop! You may have had some of our products before, never knowing you were possibly eating your best friend, or your sibling. I see the world as a place full of ripe, delicious ponies, ready to be harvested, baked, and sold.

How do I feel when doing this procedure? I feel alive! The blood dribbling down my hooves, the soft hide that I use in my dress, the hollow sounds of an empty skull as I paint and decorate it for display in my basement. Nothing can compare to the rivitting joy and excitement I feel when on the job.

The procedure is simple. Draw a number, find the name for that number, get the pony, tie them up, and wait for them to wake in my basement. For unicorns, I cut their horn before they wake up, as so they don't teleport or stab me with one of my knives. For pegasi I simply wait until they're conscious to cut the wings. Earth ponies, I just go straight to work cutting off their cutie mark once they're awake. After the cutie marks are removed, I place them upside down to dry. I then think of a fun way to entertain my guests, such as the hook game, or electric shocks! After my games, I numb my guest and wait for it to kick in. Sometimes I have to give them some adrenaline to keep them awake so they can see the harvest. Once they are numbed, I cut their torso open to start the harvest. I make jokes of the many organs I pull out. I save the lungs and heart for last, so they can last as long as possible before they fade. Once I'm done with all the organs, I get the lungs out, then the heart and I end the fun.

My share of the cutie marks goes into a dress, wings are sewn on the back so I look like I have many pairs of wings! The horns make a necklace, which makes funny sounds when I walk, like a set if wooden or bone keys!

My play time varies from pony to pony. Weaker ponies last much shorter, but tougher ones can go long while. Although I like to talk, some ponies need to have their dirty little tongues cut off. Bad language and attitude makes for bad tasting cupcakes. Some ponies, however, just get annoying! I end up cutting their tongues if I'm working solo.

Chapter Two: Inkie Pie

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Three: Blinkie Pie

I am Blinkie Pie, otherwise known as Limestone Pie. I am the second youngest sister next to Pinkamena. My family was quite mean to us, but we thought it was normal, considering our quite bland and dull lifestyle. They kept me and my sisters from poor Obsidian. The poor thing, locked up in a cellar for so, so long. I cried when I saw her condition. Sunken eyes, all skin and bone. I thought she wouldn't make it, but she surprised us and is now strong and happy! Enough about Minkie Pie, though. This is MY mind we're looking at!

I see the world as a place full of opportunistic characters. Characters that either play large roles, or small roles. I like to take into consideration these niches that the characters have. A character like a flower salesman is the perfect pony, and not much of an attention bringer to our little games. A pony like a construction worker is a bit more risky, and I tend to try not to take them out. A teacher is a little higher on the risky list. My list keeps going until it hits the most risky of characters, the princesses. We wouldn't dare to take one on, but with rumor going around that Twilight had been released from the asylum, I have no doubt that she won't be a unicorn for too long. I give her a year or two by this point to become a princess like Cadence, but maybe Celestia sees the insane asylum as a big no no on her princess resume.

Its funny how I think of things. I think of myself as deserving of being the prettiest mare. I told Inkie before that I despise pretty mares. They always get attention, they always get the stallions chasing after them. What do I get? Nothing from no pony other than my family, Derpy, Applebloom, and Babs Seed.

My favorite games to play are obviously the hook game, which we play quite often nowadays. My favorite that I made up though is called Turn Table! It's a game where I blindfold the pony and put them into a table that I fixed up myself. I made it to turn on a motor, slowly though. I them throw scalpels and see if I can chop off limbs, surround the pony in various sharp objects, or get them in the center of the target metal and wooden board chest plate I made to cover their vital organs. I made it to where any pressure added to the board would feel like a huge punch to the pony. I once broke somepony's rib cage playing it.

I take my time to play with my victims. I talk to them to entertain them, I snap their hooves like pencils if I so desire. Pinkie lets me do whatever the hay I want to do with them, so long as I don't take out both eyes or kill them before the harvest. Speaking of which, when it comes time to harvest, I pull out each organ like a bandage. Quickly and painfully is how I do it! Once I get to the lungs, I slow down and take my time cutting the tubes and blood vessels, leaving the air tubes for last. As I am doing this, I talk to my pony again. I talk about my life, about Minkie, about killing my parents, and about how much no pony will care that they are gone. The last words my victims usually hear from me are, "Nighty night. Sleep tight. Tell the devil that the bed bugs certainly bite!" With that, I grab the heart and chew the main artery in half, then I yank it out of the chest, blood dribbling down my chin like lemon-aid on a hot summer day!

My share on cutie marks goes toward a variety of things, such as a vest, shirt, dress, etcetera. I will wear these sometimes when I'm working in the basement or in Pinkie's room. It is quite fun to make these clothes with my sisters. But I usually make them for them, not myself.

Author's Note

Blinkie Pie completed! Last is Minkie Pie. I see Blinkie as a bit like Pinkie, but a bit more technical like Inkie Pie is. Bubbly with a bit of sass and smarts to top it off. Enjoy :3

Chapter Four: Minkie Pie

I am Minkie Pie, or Obsidian Pie. I was locked in a cellar for twenty years of my life, ever since I was a young filly. My parents thought I was evil, that I was sent here by the devil himself! How ridiculous is that! Needless to say, I got my revenge on them. I killed them baked them, and sold them to the ponies in my village. Due to me being locked up for so long, I'm not as educated as other ponies. Derpy and I get along well because of this.

I see the world as a place full of ponies who assume things, usually in the worst way, about ponies based on a few actions, much like my parents did. I see them all as a bunch of stereotyping fools who need to be given justice for such false assumptions. I see everypony as a pony who has either made good assumptions or poor ones, those with poor ones needing to be dead by my bare hooves! I have much to see and learn in this world that I was denied for most of my life.

My favorite game was one we all share, the hook game. I need not explain it since the others have, but it's pretty gorey and bloody, which I like! Just the feeling of blood running down my hooves brings me back to the day my parents died. They deserved it for making me live my life like that, in the cold, dark, empty cellar. I lived off of the jam in there for twenty whole years, without knowing what love is, how good it feels to be cared about, how wonderful life can truly be. I made up the hook game myself during a play date, and my sisters, Applebloom, and Derpy all loved it!

What cutiemarks I keep, I put into a small apron or dress. I help Derpy make her scarf with the cutie marks I don't use. I am taking my time with this apron of mine, so I can find cutie marks that match and fit with each other.

The time my play dates have varies, but it mostly lasts fourty five minutes to an hour. I always take my time, cause I know how how to be patient. I patiently waited in that darn cellar for my whole life! They should be happy they got to live life happily and free, unlike me who was in such poor condition that it was a miracle I survived!

When it comes time to harvest, I slowly and carefully pull out each organ one by one. My play dates always scream and beg when I start, like I did twenty years ago. It pleases me to hear those pleads from another pony's mouth. When I hit the lungs, I pause for a second, and then I either smash the lungs in or I pull them out, depending on what mood I'm in. I then grab the heart and pull it out holding it in my hooves in front of my play dates face, who is just able to see their own beating heart before they die painfully. It brings a smile to my face everytime I kill a pony, knowing that is one less pony that can judge others based on actions or appearance.

Author's Note

And that, fillies and gentlecolts, is the end of my story. Hope you've enjoyed it and I probably won't write any more gore fics anytime soon. I have other stories in the making, so be prepared for those! :twilightsmile: