Too Many Pinkie Pies, Not Enough Bullets
The Chapter in Which the Story is Contained
This is all my fault; I shouldn’t have used the mirror pool. Now, because of my stupidity, my childish nature, my tendency to act without thinking, I’ve lost my friends. They think that I’m one of the clones, just another face in the crowd to rule out. I sigh heavily, limp and depressed in Rainbow’s arms. When we get to city hall, where I’d assume she’s taking me, she says something, but I don’t hear it. I’m taken from my thoughts as I’m apathetically dropped on the cold, hard floor, finally able take in my surroundings. I’m in the middle of a mob of my clones, or the other clones and the original, I can’t tell anymore. Up on the stage in front of us are my friends -- if I could still call them that -- with the curtain down behind them.
I pay attention to Twilight, but not as closely as the others. When all is silent and all attention is on Twilight, she says
“Pinkies. you have all been brought here today to take a test.”
A chorus of groans erupts from the crowd, me included.
“Don’t worry, it’s a simple test, about as simple as they come. Whoever passes gets to stay.”
Gets to stay? What happens if I fail? Will I be exiled?
“Curtains, please!” As the curtains are drawn, she says “The test... will be watching paint dry!”
I swallow nervously as all the other pinkies gasp in horror. How will I survive? If I pass, I get my friends back. If I fail, I lose my friends forever. “On your marks…get set…GO!”
All is silent and still as we all stare at the board. Absolutely nothing happens. After a few minutes, a fellow pinkie scratches her nose. Twilight’s hands glow purple, no doubt summoning some sort of exile spell. A purple bolt of magic is shot at the pinkie, but when it hits, she just falls to the floor laughing, saying “That tickles!” Twilight tries again, but gets the same result. She tries on another pinkie, and yet again, gets the same result. She curses quietly to herself, the others noticing as she does so.
“What’s the matter sugahcube?” Applejack asks.
“We have to go to plan B…” Twilight mutters, slightly annoyed.
“What plan B?”
“The one that requires you four to leave.”
“What? Why do we have to leave? What’s plan B?”
“You heard me, go to the library and stay there until I come and get you.”
“But…”
“Trust me, it’s for your own good. I didn’t want it to come to this, but it has.”
“Ok sugahcube. C’mon girls, let’s go.”
Giving them a few minutes to get to the library, Twilight announces
“We will be restarting the test!
"On your marks…"
"get set…"
"GO!”
As we stare, she goes off stage for a moment. Shouldn’t she be watching us? I don’t move, in case she can see me somehow. When she walks backOHMYGODSHEHASAGUN!
“Don’t be afraid, I’ll only shoot you if you move, and if I do shoot you, your death will be relatively painless.” She says hastily.
As she walks down from the stage, she puts in a magazine and cocks the pistol. We all start to sweat profusely, fearing our imminent deaths as Twilight walks back and forth, across the rows, waiting for somebody to move. As she walks by me, I get a closer look at the gun, her CZ-75 with the custom side panels that I made for her. Suddenly, the Pinkie in front and to the left of me notices a bird outside the window and comments on it, Twilight taking notice. She stops, sharply turns, and swiftly puts the gun to the back of the Pinkie’s head, angled down to prevent the premature injury of any of the others. Time seemed to slow to an unreasonable speed as Twilight pulled the trigger. I close my eyes to save myself from the horror of it, but I still see the image in my head. I see in my head each step that the gun goes through to fire, a product of being Ponyville’s main authority on weaponry; The trigger pushes on the sear, which releases the hammer, which hits the firing pin, firing the bullet, which engages in the rifling, spinning it as it continues to be propelled forwards by the products of the burnt powder, into the head of its victim. I open my eyes, hoping that it’s over, but it’s not. I see the small splatter of blood upon entry, the large splatter of blood upon exit, bits of bone, skin, and brain mixed in. The casing flies out towards me, everything still seeming to be in slow motion. I can see the words “9mm Luger” stamped into the casing around the primer, glinting in the light, as if to say that my fate is sealed; this is how I will die; today; at the hand of one of my best friends.
When everything seems to be going in real time again, Twilight has already moved on, the dead body laying on the floor in front of me. On her face is a mixture of surprise, pain, hopelessness, and most importantly, betrayal, the betrayal of a friend she remembers knowing for years, despite only existing for a couple of hours. Her hair is soaked in blood -- her blood -- from the bullet hole. There is also a hole in her lower lip; some of the teeth behind shattered, probably where the bullet must have exited. I slowly look back up, as to not alert Twilight, seeing the splintery hole in the wooden floorboards. This isn’t a way to find the real Pinkie Pie, this is a massacre. Each one is a real person with a real personality, real thoughts, real emotions. They may all be copies of the same person, but each one can have different thoughts, feel different emotions, say different things. How can Twilight be so suddenly cold-hearted to go from needing to help everyone to killing her friend over, and over, and over, without remorse?
A shot rang out, taking me from my thoughts, telling me that another had been killed behind me. At first, the shots are very frequent, but as time goes on, the shots become further and further apart. We start with 64, which is soon cut down to 32, then 16, then 8. As our numbers dwindle, the stench of blood starts to overwhelm us. Bodies litter the floor, bodies that Twilight remains unfazed by. I hear 4 shots in moderately quick succession. Our numbers are halved once more, leaving only 4 contenders. That’s 16 times less than we started with. I don’t know how I have done it, but I’m still alive in the last four, but at what cost? Will I lose my sanity because of the grief? Will my friends even like me anymore? Will anything ever return to normal? Another shot rings out, leaving only three contenders. It’s almost over! I might actually survive this! Yet again, a shot rings out, leaving only me and one other. One more death before this slaughter is finished. I can’t take this anymore; I don’t care that I’ll die, let the other Pinkie live. Let her be the happy party planner-baker-element of laughter-pinkie. Just kill me and end all of this.
“I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS MADNESS!”
It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that I didn’t say it; the other Pinkie must have been thinking the same thing as me. She collapses to the floor, weeping. Twilight walked slowly towards her, saying
“Madness this may be, but necessary madness; I do this act with the sole intent of finding the real Pinkie Pie. Victory cannot come without sacrifice, so if I want the real Pinkie Pie back, I have to kill you.”
I watch in horror as Twilight slowly pulls the trigger, waiting for the shot that will signify the end of all of this. Right before the shot, I close my eyes, not able to watch any more senseless violence. I brace myself for the shot, expecting the loud crack, but none comes. After several seconds pass, I dare to open one eye, seeing a look of surprise on both of their faces. I then open both eyes and don a similar expression. Suddenly, Twilight disgruntedly says
“I had a feeling that I didn't get enough ammo. Should've put one in the chamber for that first mag.”
She walks back behind the stage, presumably to get a different lethal weapon of some sort. The other live pinkie is back on the floor again, weeping. Blood covered the floor, soaking into the wooden floorboards, probably permanently staining them. I look down at my body, noticing for the first time since this started that I’m covered in blood; my blood. I start to cry, the enormity of the situation finally sinks in. 62 unnecessary deaths, all because of me. But Twilight could have stopped it, she could have found another spell, harmlessly removing them from physical existence. As Twilight walks back, knife in hand, she makes her intentions very clear. She picks up the other Pinkie, putting the knife to her throat.
“I would say that I’m sorry that it had to come to this, that I wish that I didn’t have to stab you with this knife, that I wish it could all just go back to normal, you being a friend of mine again, but you aren’t the real Pinkie Pie, so I couldn’t care less.”
Twilight cuts deeply into her throat with seemingly little effort, stopping only when the knife reaches bone. The clone makes a gurgling noise, drowning in her own blood as Twilight apathetically drops her onto the floor. Twilight stares at the body until the gurgling stops, signifying that the clone is finally dead.
Twilight then turns to me and smiles as if none of this had happened, kindly saying
“C’mon Pinkie, let’s go tell the others that you’re ok.”
My sadness turns to rage because of this. How can she just passively ignore it, like it never happened?
“HOW COULD YOU!?” I screamed, “You kill 63 people, people with hopes, dreams, thoughts, emotions, and then you act like it never happened; do you not care!? and for your information, I am not okay; I just witnessed one of my best friends murder me 63 TIMES! I’m soaked in my blood, these bodies are soaked in my blood, the floor is soaked in my blood; blood that has no good reason to be there!”
She was on the brink of crying as she quietly interjected me, saying “B…b…but I...I needed to find…”
“BUT NOTHING!” I interject, “You could have prevented all of this! You could have found another spell! If traumatizing me was your intent, then CONGRATULATIONS! You succeeded! I won’t ever forget this, no matter how hard I try; life will never be the same for me again, and it’sall your fault!”
By this point, I’m crying tears of anger, my face hot with rage. She’s sobbing like a child that’s being told their punishment; her eyes open, puffy, and red; still standing, but only just; attentively listening, hoping that words of retribution might eventually be said, fixing everything. “You don’t deserve to be my friend if you’re too shallow to stop and think before you commit an act such as this!”
“B…b…but…” she choked out between sobs.
“THINK LONG AND HARD ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE HERE TODAY;” I continued, “MAYBE THEN I MIGHT CONSIDER NOT HATING YOU, IF I ACTUALLY FEEL LIKE LISTENING TO YOU AT ALL, BUT UNTIL THAT DAY, I BUCKING HATE YOU, TWILIGHT SPARKLE!”
I run out of the building, making as much noise as I can, slamming the doors behind me. As my rage turns back into sadness, I fall back onto the door, sliding downwards. When I finally reach a sitting position, I throw my head into my hands, sobbing loudly. I lost a friend. I never lose any of my friends. Why now? As I mourn, I can hear Twilight’s unrestrained sobbing, the enormity of the situation finally reaching her, no doubt. I can’t stay here; I need to go. I got up and started slowly walking to the library. Going there will probably traumatize my friends more than it will help me, but I need their comfort; they’re my only option at the moment.
I calm down a lot during the walk, my sobbing reduced to sniffling. I knock on the door when I finally get to the library. When the door opens, all of my friends, minus Twilight, are crowded around the opening, Applejack at the front of the group. Not wanting to beat around the bush, she bluntly asks
“Is it over? Are you the real Pinkie Pie?”
I slowly nod my head a couple of times, wanting to talk as little as possible.
“Where’s Twilight?” she asks next.
At the simple mention of her name, I start to cry again, managing to choke out
“S…still there…”
Everyone has worried looks on their faces, probably fearing the worst.
“Did something happen to her, darling? I do hope that she’s alright.” Rarity asks.
I again nod a couple of times, ridding them of their worries.
“Hey, what’s that red stuff you’re covered in?” Rainbow dash asks me.
“Yeah, what is that, sugahcube?” Applejack adds.
I start crying harder, barely choking out two short words, small in size, yet infinitely huge in meaning. They are all that is needed to describe all of the events that have happened and all the horrors I’ve witnessed on this day.
"My blood."
