The Shadow in Her Mind

by Inky Scrolls

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Mystery
Length: 1908

A heinous crime has been committed. Just who carried it out is unknown to all but the perpetrators... but who are they?

She didn't mean to do it, honest! No really, she made her do it... whoever that is. If you were on the run, from something you didn't think was wrong, what would you do? Could you take it?

Published 2016-01-15 22:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-15 22:30:01 UTC

The Shadow of Her Mind

The pink, frizzy-haired mare cowered beneath the bedclothes, moaning softly in anguish. The spent tears of dismay, shock and fear stained her countenance, and those not yet shed were brimming on the threshhold, threatening to emerge.

Between muffled sobs, the usually energetic, joy-filled pony spoke up, fitfully. “Di, what have you done? What have y-” Her breath catching in her throat, she broke off, gasping.

“What have I done? You know full well what I've done! Done what you didn't have the guts to do, done what you should have done a long time ago.”

Managing to calm her hyperventilating lungs, the pitiful figure questioned her companion. “But why? Why did you have to do that? She wasn't doing anything wrong! She, huh, she j-” The memory of what had happened brought back the tears, and she broke down into sobbing once more.

“Oh, honestly. Pull yourself together! I know what you've been thinking, I've felt the way you feel about her. Oh yes, you pretend to be all happy, and willing to love everyone, and be Ponyville's best friend, but inside you were just waiting for the chance. And I took that chance for you, because you didn't dare.”

Forcing back the tears, the young baker replied: “That was because I knew how bad it would be! Do you have any idea what will happen now? What if they find out who did it? What if they come searching for us? It'll be prison for sure!”

Di smiled devilishly. “Ahah! So you're upset because of what you think will happen to us, not because of what we did?”

“No! At least, that's not only why I'm crying. You were wrong, Di. You've done a bad thing. She didn't deserve it! Nopony deserves that...”

“Not even me?”

She hesitated. “Er, what? You? No, of course not. That would not be good, not for you, not for me!”

“You're not so sure, are you? You think I deserve to die for what we've done. But how would that work? You can't live without me, and I you. And you are just as guilty as I am. You say you don't agree with my actions, but you didn't do anything to stop me.”

“No, I didn't, and that was wrong. I should have. And now she's gone...”

“Yes, she's gone. And she won't come back. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. And I'm glad.” She spat the last word out.

“How could you say such a thing!? That's terrible! You're not sorry at all, are you?”

“No, of course I'm not sorry! Why would I be? She'd been bugging us for too long, and eventually our patience snapped. Even you have a limit.”

“I agree that she could be annoying, with her overwillingness to please, to be everypony's doormat, always refusing to put herself forward...” She broke off, realising what she was saying.

“See! I told you so! I told you that you agreed with me! You must see that we took the only option open to us. Somepony like that isn't worth the space she takes up. Who needed her, anyway? When did she ever do anything useful?”

“She was kinda wearing... but that doesn't make it right, what we did.”

“I notice you say now that we did it, not you.”

Refusing to answer this uncomfortable point, the pink pony whispered softly: “Are you sure? Can you really be so certain that we did the right thing? When I think about her face, her beautiful, terrified face...”

Di scoffed. “All I think of is the surprise! She really had no idea what was coming to her. She deserved what we did, if only to prove that not everypony loved her as much as she thought they did.”

“Loved, thought... she'll never love or think about anypony or anything ever again. We killed her, Di. We killed her. We've ended a pony's life, and that is something which can never be reversed.”

Di was thoughtful. “No, it can't be. But then, why else would we have killed her? If she needed to die, then we did the right thing. We're better off without her anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remind yourself. Who was we always had to wait for? Who was the one that we had to risk our life for on so many occasions, and for so little reward? Who crumpled into tears at the least sign of malcontent? You know the answer. It wasn't us. It wasn't any of our other friends...” Di paused for effect. “It was always her.”

“Our other friends! What will they think? If they ever find out, they'll never forgive us. They won't understand why we did it, they'll just think that we're- that I'm either wicked or insane.”

“We are insane!”

“No! I refuse to accept that we're out of our mind. Despite what that doctor said to Mother... he was making it up, I'm sure.”

“Of course he was, that's right. Who does he think he is, anyway? Lying to ponies and making them send their fillies away! He should be made to pay!”

“Yes. He should! He ruined our life and I hate him. I hate him! I HATE HIM!” Shaking with fear, fatigue and now anger, the pale pink mare screamed her loathing to the world. “I HATE him! I wish he'd never been born! He should DIE for what he did to us. And he will.” They laughed together; a coarse, harsh laughter that belied their fury.

Suddenly, however, the formerly distraught mare ceased laughing – a terrible thought had struck her, and she gasped. “Di, listen! What happened to the knife?”

“What?”

“After we stabbed her, where did you put the knife?”

“I thought you had it.”

“No, I didn't, I-”

Quaking with dread, Di shouted accusingly. “You mean you left it there? Where anypony could find it? You idiot!”

Not understanding the full import of the situation, the other mare inquired: “What's the matter? It's not like it's that important. She's covered in stab-wounds, they're hardly not going to know how she died.”

“You don't understand. Think! Were we wearing hoofmitts?”

Staring down at the blood-stained fur round her hooves, her own blood drained from her face in eventual comprehension. “No... no, we weren't.”

“So we've left our hoofprints in exactly the place where the police will first look.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“A few hours, days at the most.”

“Are you sure they'd find out so quickly?”

“Wake up! Apart from Discord, who in Ponyville is on record as being potentially dangerous? Us! We are! After the report that that doctor made, every criminal investigation squad in the country will have us on their files. And they know where we live.”

As she spoke, screaming could be heard from across the town. Di grimaced. “I'd say we've got the lower end of my estimate.”

“What do we do, Di?”

“I dunno! How should I know?”

“It was your bloody idea in the first place! You should've thought things through!”

“Hey, watch it, don't just blame me. Blame yourself as well. You wanted her dead just as much as I did.”

“But at least I didn't act on my emotions! What do y-” She was cut off by the sound of the front door, two storeys below on the ground floor, being stoutly rapped. They strained to hear, sitting as still as the cause of their quandary, as the voices drifted up to them from beneath:

“Hello? Can I help you?”, their landlady asked.

“We hope so, madam. We're from Equestrian Internal Security, may we step inside?”

“Er... could I please see your ID first?” Even when flustered, the landlady was wise enough to check.

“Of course, madam.”

Then came the sound of rustling clothing, followed by an approving mumble. “Thank you. You'd best come inside.” The door closed, and all that could be heard was a low-pitched murmur of conversation from through the floorboards. Di sighed deeply, and spoke.

“I think.... I think I shall be going now.”

The other mare was bewildered. “Going? What do you mean?”

“Think about it. We can't get away, and you know that. It's too far to jump to the ground from the window. The skylight doesn't open far enough to climb out onto the slates, so we can't hide there, and even if we did get that far we'd look pretty suspicious to anypony, lurking on the roof in the dead of night. There's no escape.”

“So what do you suggest?” The panic was beginning to creep into her voice.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean. And if you've any sense, you will do the same. I can't save us, and nor can you. You said it yourself, it's prison for life if we're caught.”

“B-but, but! There must be something, anything! Isn't there..?”

“...”

“Di? You've always been the one with the ideas... Please tell me. Tell me! Tell me!”

“...”

“Answer me! Di! Please!”

Again there was no reply, and she moaned in anguish. “Di, please don't leave me! You can't. You can't go, not now. Argh!” She banged her head against the wall, her straight locks waving around her. “Please. Please, Di, I beg you, come back... come back...”

But she new in her heart that Di was not going to return. And she knew there was only one way to get out of this a free pony. It would be difficult, not only for herself, but for her remaining friends. But there was nothing else to be done.

Tremblingly, feeling very small and insignificant without Di's constant support and cajoling, she lifted the wooden sash of the window. After lifting it fully and inserting the holding pin, she leant out over the sill. The ground seemed a very long way down.

“Come on, you can do this.” She tried steeling her resolve, building herself up as Di used to do. But she only felt the emptiness of loss, and the self-hatred that came with knowing she had caused the death of one whom so many ponies held so dear. A hint of malice slipped into her thoughts as she remembered how often her own energetic character had been overlooked in favour of one who seemed, to her, boring, shallow and pointless. Why should she have to pay for something that should have been done long ago, and that surely others had wished to do but daren't? Well, she would make sure she didn't have to pay. Di had had the right idea! Only through death could one find contentment, either the death of others, or...

She stepped onto the sill, quavering in the wind. Her voice rose slowly to a scream. “You were right, Di. You were right all along. She had to die. She deserved what came to her. And I'm glad it was us who killed her. I'm coming for you!”

So saying, she gently let go of the frame, and fell. After twenty years of inner torment and toil, of keeping up of appearances and of fighting against herself, she had done it. She had finally given in.

And the shadow of her mind reveled in it.

Author's Note

A dark little gem to commemorate the first anniversary of my first story, "I am Maud Pie". Well, almost. I'm four days early, but, you know, deal! :pinkiecrazy: