As we walked down the corridor, I felt fear momentarily jolt through my body. I'm a real sissy for a 14 year old. Even Buttercups is less of a sissy than I am. Anyways, if we've never properly met. I'm Grovewells, the stallion himself. For those of you who remember Buttercups and I, thank you for tuning back in again.
The cold flow of air that ran throughout the place made me shiver slightly. The mold on the wall revealed years and years of the past. The past smelled very smelly.
We kept walking along the corridors, slowly counting the numbers up until 239. There was a lot on my mind at the time. I had remembered the day I heard the knock on my door, and my whole life changed forever. Except, it was like a crappy, cliche, cheesy chapter of my life, but I still enjoyed it.
The smell of the mold was still annoying as all hell can be. Oh, boy, was something stirring up in my thoughts. After all this, all Buttercups and I have been through. Not once had I thought about us until now. It was like a switch that was programmed for this moment, was flipped on. It just happened so suddenly a few days back.
I was thinking about my past, about her. Then, a thought came to mind. An unpleasant one, that I should've swiped away. It would ruin our friendship. I can't believe I would think-
"Hey, were here." Buttercups said, her hoof pointed at the sign that read, "Cell 239". "This is it. She's in here."
"Are you sure this is it?" I asked, reassuringly. I didn't want to talk to, let alone get near a psycho like her.
"Yes. This is Cell 239. Like the lady at the front desk had told us." She said, jogging my memory. A dark figure was visible in the corner of the cell, and it edged closer. I nervously, took a slow step backward, against the wall.
"Is that you guys?" Said the all familiar, but broken voice. Pinkamena coughed, choking on her tears. She seemed a lot sadder than her usual self. (Well, seeing she was in an asylum for 4 years.)
I sighed. "Yes, it's us. Just don't freak out." I said, stepping closer slowly. Suddenly she lunged forwards, grabbing the bars, making me jump in surprise. She breathed heavily for a few seconds, and sat afterwards.
"So, you're the two who got me in this place." She said, rage filling her tone. I nodded a quick two times, going back to my caveman frozen state.
"Well, you were the one who had it coming." Buttercups replied, with a stern tone. Pointing to her on the exclamation of you.
"Yeah, well it was still you who caught me! When I get out of here, I'm gonna strangle you both!" She snarled, grabbing the bars once more, with more aggression. There was a long pause of silence, that lasted for the next 5 seconds or so. Then it was broken.
"Well Twilight sent us, to come bail you out. With this tone, you're never gonna get out of this place." I yelled, feeling good after finally letting some steam out.
"Im..." Pinkie paused. "I'm... I'm being forgiven?" She asked, quieting down some. "After all I've done... I..."
"Not entirely Pinkie." Buttercups said, holding up a hoof. "I don't quite know if she forgives you, but she's not gonna banish you or anything."
"She wants me... To come back." She said, her tone lightening up. A small smile crept on her face. "I get to go back, and get another chance?" She said, tears welling up on her face.
"Yeah, I guess so." I said, looking over at Buttercups, shrugging. "Are you ready to go home?" I asked. Pinkamena smiled some more, and nodded. One of the Nurses, walked to us and moved us out of the way of the door, and unlocked it.
The door creaked open, making a squeaking noise before coming to a halt. The Nurse walked in, unlocking the belt that restrained her hooves. Pinkie wiggled the belt loose, and stretched her hooves out, taking a deep breath in, and then out. She got on all fours, and walked slowly out of her cushion padded room.
"Her files are clear. She is safe to leave." Said the Nurse. Locking the door back up. The three of us walked away into the lobby, and outside. Where Pinkie took in more fresh air.
"Smells like freedom." She said proudly, stretching once more.
"Restricted freedom, Pinkie." I said, reminding her. "We don't know what Twilight's gonna do." I said, with a sigh.
We headed back to Twilight's castle, in complete silence. No one spoke or even made a noise, the whole walk. There was nothing to say but, "You really screwed up though, and you shouldn't do it again." Which is obviously something you wouldn't say to psycho killer. (Former).
We finally arrived at the castle, after 30 minutes of walking. I lifted my hoof up, and knocked on the door. I heard some voices, and hooves clacking closer. The door opened, and Twilight's face was washed with concern. She ushered us into the castle.
"Guys, sit down quick! We need to talk." Said Twilight. She sat down, and closed the book she was in the middle of, and set it aside. Twilight sighed. "There have been dozens of reports for missing ponies." She levitated several flyers that all read, "Have You Seen This Pony?".
"Well-that's odd?" Buttercups said, investigating the posters. "They were all reported missing on the same date." She examined the posters furthermore. "Must've been in a rush... to do something."
"Well, I noticed this as well. I tried to tie this to any past events, but nothing matches up." Said Twilight, still frustrated and confused.
"What about recent events?" Grovewells added. "Like two years ago, you fought, and defeated Chrysalis. Maybe she has something to do with this?" He said.
"No, I highly doubt this would be the works of her." Twilight thought for a moment. "I have nothing. I don't know." She rustled her mane up, with confusion.
"Well, we have our scenes, and our partial backup. So, why don't we use this to track, the unknown suspect." Pinkie said.
We all sat in silence, starring at Pinkie. "That's a great idea Pinkie." Said Twilight. "It's settled, were gonna track this ponynapper down."
After our decision was set, we were on our way to each of the locations. We investigated each sight, looking for clues, hair, prints, anything really. But all of them were a bust, until we stopped at the fifth location. We stood in front of the door, creaking it open as we crept inside.
"This is the last location. Let's hope we find something good." Twilight said, confidently. We looked through bookshelves, and closets, cabinets. Basically anything we could look into, we looked at. We were beat, and we certainly didn't want to clean all of the mess up.
I lay on the carpet, still sweating from all the pulling out drawers, to tediously inspecting clothes, and whatnot. Buttercups sat on the dirty couch, which hadn't been washed in, what looks like 2 years.
I looked over to my right, to let my head rest. When I saw a black piece of hair, laying on the floor. I gasped, after hours of investigation, finally finding some kind of evidence.
"Here!" I yelled, waving them over. I pointed to the hair, like a Native Spinone. "We have evidence!" Twilight and Buttercups, examined it and nodded.
"Nice going Grovewells." Buttercups said, complimenting me, which made me blush. "Now we can run this back at the castle." Twilight looked pleased with this sudden turn of events.
At the Castle
"This is the machine which will determine the owners Race, Sex, and Age." Twilight said, inserting the piece of hair, carefully. The machine was a big, upright rectangle shape, with a silver finish, and a polished gold trim.
The machine made a couple of sounds, and started beeping rapidly. "That's pretty loud!" I yelled, not being heard over the machine. It stopped, beeping, and a green light lit.
"Over here." Twilight pointed to a screen, to the left. "So this machine says it's a-Changeling!" She stepped back, horrified.
"That's terrible! They'll suck the love out of them!" Pinkie screamed. I was just as terrified as they were. If the changelings were back, and we kidnapping ponies. Imagine how many more would be taken.
"Well, we can still save them." Buttercups said. She was always so confident. That's what I loved about her. Her sense of, everything is gonna be alright, in almost every situation.
"At least we know what were up against here." I said.
