Shattered Equestria: Jagged Reflections

Shattered Equestria

Jagged Reflections

By

TheSleeplessOne

This story has been partially proofread and edited by Icarus720. A big thanks to him! Any additional errors should be pointed out in the comments section.

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Pinkie Pie - Chapter 8: The Queen's Heart

He still wasn’t focusing on her. What was he so concentrated on that he would ignore her?

She didn’t have to follow his gaze to know what was over there. He must have noticed Sweetie Belle and figured out where the blood came from. She shifted her hoof from his head to his chin and began to drag him towards Sweetie Belle. He thrashed in her grip but it was a simple matter of moving her foreleg farther back and letting him cut off his own airway. She knew to do just enough to knock the fight out of him but she wanted him awake for this.

Irony wasn’t lost on her. In fact, irony could be quite funny. A small alteration to their path and she was dragging him through the trail of blood. As they got close to Sweetie Belle, she shifted her hoof to his chest and added force. Like a spinning top, he crashed into the base of Rarity and both the mannequin and Sweetie Belle’s corpse fell atop him.

Pinkamena doubted the impact damaged him much. His scrambling out from under the body confirmed it. Whether from the dragging or the actual body, he was covered head to toe in Sweetie Belle’s blood. She was a bit jealous of him, normally it would be her covered in her victim’s blood. He obviously didn’t have the stomach for it though because after one glance he began throwing up again.

“Spike, I think you should know the truth. You came here for Twilight but you cost a young filly her life instead.” Her mirth and smile disappeared, her features becoming blank. “She was never supposed to come to the castle. Her death was quicker than most but…” Her features contorted and an eye twitched. “Her blood… i-is on…” She broke. She knew she ruined it but she just found her humor irresistible. “It is all over you!” She was roaring with laughter.

The look Spike gave her when he finished throwing up stopped her laughter. A look mixed with hatred and sorrow, a far off look of shock in his eyes. Yes! Yes! Yes! Pinkamena couldn’t imagine a better look for Spike. She wished she could freeze him like that forever. She did her best to lock the image into her mind, she’d try to recreate it later. She began moving towards him, a slow trot, the first part of the play was almost over. She knew once she reached him she wouldn’t be able to fight her urges any longer.

What he did next surprised her. He stood up to his full height, seething. “You’re a monster. Why would you even do all… this?.”

She was careful to keep her blows soft. She wanted his mind durable, resistant… defiant. Those always lasted the longest. “We had days together you know?” She backed up and began to walk a circle around Spike. “Oh, now don’t get jealous! We’ll have just as much time… or more. I’ve improved since then.” She flashed him a quick grin. “I’ll have plenty of time to show you that later, for now, I’m curious about what you will do. How will you avoid all of this?” Her hoof waved towards the abominations throughout the room. “Now that you have nothing to save how will you play the hero?”

She found times like these gave her the clearest thoughts. No giggles or interruptions. No jokes or pranks, just a complete focus on the game. Other ponies mistook her playful and energetic nature to mean she wasn’t very bright. Perhaps by Twilight’s book standards, she wasn’t. What she did have was a memory that no other pony could match. A memory that allowed her to understand ponies through their past. With the knowledge of every pony’s likes, dislikes, reactions, trends, and other useful tidbits of information, she had outsmarted them all. And now she would drag Spike down that same path. Use his past to agonize his present and destroy his future.

Spike’s head craned to keep her in view. His clawed hands were clenched at his sides so hard a small trickle of blood dripped from each one. She could tell he was angry and, if his feet shaking were any clue, scared. She figured the shock was beginning to settle and his emotions were becoming raw. He was still keeping his eyes locked with hers, a mixture of emotions flashing through them.

“I can’t understand you. I can’t understand the way you talk or act. My mind screams that what you say is true, but my heart knows you lie.” His eyes softened, if only for a moment, before his words were spoken through a showing of fangs. “Twilight taught me to always fight, to believe in friendship and always do the best for other ponies. You’ve killed all my friends and my—” The next words faltered under the extreme emotion, “—my mother.” He growled and closed his eyes causing the building tears to fall before opening them and fixing her with a menacing stare. “I was taught to forgive, always give a pony a second chance. Love everyone and no matter how evil, they could change.” He looked lost when he turned in the direction of Twilight’s mannequin. “I want to do what you taught me, Twilight. But I can’t! I feel empty, strange, I want to give up but I know you didn’t, even if you had no hope.” His voice broke and more tears rolled down his unblinking eyes. His body turned back towards Pinkamena but his head stayed looking at Twilight. After a few seconds, he jerked his head back in her direction.

She could see a new emotion in his eyes, hate. She was flattered of course. Something so personal just for her but it wasn’t what she wanted. Hatred is a strong emotion, stronger than anything she could do to Spike. Hatred gave him a measure of control that she didn’t want him to have. Hatred could raise you to new heights but it is a very narrow pillar. One small nudge and a fall awaits, one farther than any before. Pinkamena could see this pillar, it looked just like Twilight.

Using her knife would only build upon that hatred, she needed to penetrate his soul, not his hide. Each flinch, each look of agony would make the effort worthwhile. “Twilight went on about alllll her friends. She even tried to convince me to stop. That is all she ever cared about.” She adopted a high pitched Twilight voice. “I know you’ve done a lot of harm, but ponies will forgive you. We can be friends and fix all of this if you just release me and tell me where Celestia is.”

“Twilight told me about all of them you know. Despite the horrible things she could see from their corpses she told me about them.” Another giggle crept between her words. She gave him a look of pity and winked. “I already knew most of it but she kept talking about them. When things would get really bad she just couldn’t shut up about their adventures together.” Her face went dark and her gaze pierced through Spike. “Towards the end, she told me secrets only they would know. She was still trying to the very end. She failed like you did. Her failure was in believing I was broken, yours in thinking that you could save her. These are the things you wanted to know Spike, or would you rather have more physical details.” The laugh that followed wasn’t cheerful or deranged but feral and breathy.

Spike’s body was trembling with anger. Even from her perspective, he looked dangerous. She knew she had to bring him to the brink of outright attacking her before crushing his spirit in one fell swoop.

“Twilight didn’t work through the pain with only her friends, she mentioned family too.” Spike’s eyes still burned hot but the word family obviously distressed him. She could tell he was scared of what she might say. “Twilight’s mom, Twilight Velvet I think, would smother Shining Armor with affection. Oh, and did you know her mom was a thrill seeker?”

Each word seemed to fuel his anger. She had no way of knowing if he had ever been told about any of this. She didn’t have much to work with, by the end of Twilight’s stay nothing she had said was coherent. She had talked non-stop about her friends and some of her family history and Spike was in every other sentence. She’d tell him about it, at the end of his stay.

He raised his hand, claws extended, and reared back to strike. Pinkamena adopted a look that told him in no uncertain terms he would lose his arm before it landed on her. Instead, he backed up. She could tell he was trying to figure out a plan, but she already had him. A bit more anger, a bit more hatred and she could yank that pillar out from under him.

“Would Twilight really want you to hit a lady?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I don’t know why I have to convince you so, Spike. I haven’t lied to you yet. I told you from the get-go what Twilight was doing.” She pouted her lips and began to advance on Spike.

The twisted grin on Pinkamena’s face looked freakish as she spoke, “I told Sweetie Belle too. I told her Rarity made a deal with me not to bring her to the castle in exchange for some rather bloody tailoring. She begged me, Spike. Sweetie Belle was the only thing she cared about. She didn’t even fight when it was her turn to join her friends.” The grin broke into a frown. “Took all the fun out of it really.” Spike’s eyes didn’t seem to register the connection she was making. She sighed in frustration. “Twilight and Rarity couldn’t have been more different. At least Rarity protected her sister.”

Spike’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his fangs exposed in a snarl. Luckily, he was at a point where she could administer the final touches. Any farther and even risk of injury wouldn’t stop the dragon from flinging himself at her.

The final hoofstep brought her over the enraged Spike. “Oh dear, I may have made you a bit angry.” She brought her hoof to his chin and gently shook his head like a baby. “Nobody likes a spoilsport, Spike. I’ll tell you why they were so different.” The carrot on the stick seemed to placate him, for now. He was still seething but no longer looked ready to strike her. “It must be a lot for a little dragon-like you to take in. I know you loved her, she was like your mother after all.”

She jerked his head towards where Twilight stood. “You spent all this time thinking about her didn’t you, Spike. I’ve had her to myself all this time and I am just no good at sharing.” Another tug and he was looking into her eyes again. “I will share this time though. I only know about you from what I have seen.”

She turned his head around the room at each of the other members of Twilight’s group. “I know about them from my time with them and what Twilight told me.” She tossed him to the ground and bent close to his ear. “She kept herself going by thinking of her friends. But! Do you wanna know something funny?” Her heart raced with every word. Only a few more words and she could begin. “She never even mentioned you.”

The reaction was immediate. He didn’t make a sound. The claws digging into his palms relaxed and his wide eyes stared at nothing. She knew a little sprinkle of Twilight’s family would stamp out that nasty doubt. He was hers now and there was nothing he could do.

She reached a hoof out to drag him back towards the table so she could get this show on the road. The moment her hoof brushed a scale she the world stopped. It was typically silent down here, except for the occasional screams when she had visitors, but she could hear nothing. Her tongue moved to her cheek checking for a taste that was not there. She was vaguely aware that she was touching Spike but no feeling came from her hooves to confirm it. She blinked because the normally purple dragon was a faded scale of gray. In fact, the entire room looked like one of Granny Smith’s old movies. The part that disturbed her most was her killing intent had faded to nothing. She didn’t look forward to killing him, there was nothing funny about the situation, and the constant loneliness and pain after losing her friends was gone.

Her thoughts raced faster than the time flowed around her. Her sense of time remained dull but she could tell her senses were constantly coming and going. The moments of clarity in between were a worse torture than any she could have given to others. She looked back at what she had done to her friends and her mind recoiled at the horror. The constant torture of the Princesses, the abduction of citizens for her pleasure, and the death of her closest friends. No, no, that wasn’t right, they deserved to die. She relished every moment, every succulent cut into the flesh. She’d make this dragon pay for what was happening now.

As soon as the urge to kill him returned it was gone. Back to a void of senses where nothing mattered. Her rational mind knew she’d gain them back just as quickly, but the constant changing was taking its toll. She felt the cold scales on her hoof and thought back to her first murder, Octavia. She had caught Pinkie, or rather Pinkamena now, at a bad time. All her emotions lashed out and the blade she still used was buried in a gasping Octavia. The rush, the thrill of letting it all out had taken hold of her and when Vinyl had come snooping around she’d killed her too. Her heart ached, she knew how wrong it was. At this moment, she’d go back and change it, take a different path through life. Then again… Octavia had disturbed her during her last refuge from her emotions, baking. She finally felt free seeing the lifeblood ebb from that wound. The sounds as she struggled in vain to breathe with a cold piece of metal sticking from under her forearm. Any regrets she had drowned in the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy at that first kill. Somewhere in her mind, she had been waiting for this moment, for the real Pinkamena to appear. She used every ounce of willpower she had and ripped her hoof from his scales.

Pinkamena panted and felt drained. Spike was still lifeless before her, the only change being that she could hear his heartbeat. She had no idea how much time had passed but she’d have to save any fun for the changeling. He had to die now, whatever just happened was beyond even her unexplainable abilities. This would require tact. She refused to touch him again, she would no longer tolerate feeling that weak pony who was once her. Whatever he’d tricked her into doing, Pinkamena had won.

In her mind, she knew she could move faster than he could react. She wasn’t sure where the vital spots on a dragon were but anything dies when it bleeds enough. Taking a small step brought her to Spike’s back, covering the several feet of distance instantly. She raised the ruby handle for a killing blow, his necked looked especially good, but before she could bring it down she heard a thump in his chest. Falling to her knees, she screamed as the same feeling ripped through her body. It wasn’t strong enough to strip her senses this time and it lasted for a half-second at best. Her plans changed to getting far enough away to observe whatever was happening to Spike. She looked up towards Applejack’s mannequin as another wave ripped through her. She’d have to time it just right to get away and within the next few beats. Her already frayed psyche was struggling to stay together between her warped sense of fun and regret of past deeds.

Ba-dum. She felt Pinkamena take hold again and willed herself towards Applejack. There was never a noticeable effect, it simply was. And this time it simply wasn’t. She was still standing next to the blasted dragon. Her confusion mounted when she noticed the mannequins were wobbling with each beat. She tried again, this time concentrating on what she wanted to do. She crashed into the ground on top of the Applejack mannequin.

BA-dum. Dust settled from the mortar in the roof and the clang of metal on stone echoed through the room. Pinkamena looked around to see many of her tools lying on the floor and snapped her head back to Spike. Her vision still had color but he was hard to make out. The light seemed… off around him. The bulbs nearby weren’t dimmed in any way but seemed to be struggling to illuminate Spike.

Pinkamena could feel the waves when they brushed against her body, but the ill effects couldn’t take hold at this distance. Owing to her impeccable memory, she knew Spike had moved. His eyes opened, looking nowhere in particular. Dilation of his pupils left his sockets looking empty, surrounded by a thin green ring at the edge. She could hear a ragged pant coming from his direction but she couldn’t make out a rise and fall in his chest. There was motion in his tail. It thrashed about angrily, making an audible thump with each impact on the ground.

BA-DUM. She felt the foundation under her shake and stone grinding on stone as the castle shifted from the force. The remaining mannequins fell over and the door to the room slammed open. She couldn’t understand what was going on, each wave that hit her was stronger yes, but it hardly moved her body. Perhaps a resistance was growing or she was regaining control of her abilities. The nothingness she had felt before was returning, falling over her body like a wave crashing over a rocky shore. She knew if it got stronger she’d start going through the same torment as when she touched him and her hooves scrambled to get away. The farther she got from Spike the more warped the area around him became. Everything was covered in a shadow and looked stretched and surreal. His teeth strained against his jaw and a groan reverberated throughout the room. He was on his knees with his hands flat against the stone, small gouges surrounding his hands where his claws had attempted to grip the ground. His back was arched and his head hung limply on his shoulders.

BA-DUM. A final beat as loud as a drum next to her ear slammed through the room. It sent Pinkamena crashing into the wall she’d be scrambling to reach herself. The castle withstood the impact but not without damage. The walls had cracks and bits of marble lay scattered throughout the room. The cupcake door lay in splinters in the corridor. Somehow, her precious tools were warped and bent in ways no earth pony could accomplish. Every mannequin but Twilight’s had been blasted across the floor, an intermittent blood trail showcasing the direction Sweetie Belle’s body had flown.

The strength of this wave stripped Pinkamena of everything. She was trapped in a void of nothingness. Her thoughts fought to manifest; She didn’t care if they did or didn’t. What was the point? She was vaguely aware of who she was but made no effort to expand upon it. She didn’t feel fear that she couldn’t see or hear. She didn’t seek a way out of this oblivion nor did she embrace it. She existed, and even that didn’t give her any pleasure or despair. And so she was for what might have been an eternity and then, with a rush, it all came back.

There was no fade-in or delay, all her senses returned at once. As she got to her hooves the only hint of how long she’d been in that state was the sound of something crashing in the castle above. Something was wrong though, she could feel parts of herself she’d locked away, those same parts that had been creeping in during the waves lurked in the back of her mind. Emotions and thoughts she had long ago crushed in order to effectively do her work.

It caused a moment of doubt and sadness. She shook herself and steeled her mind. She focused on the one thing that drove her, fun. The rising challenge the dragon fueled her excitement, smothering anything else. She stretched and flexed her limbs making sure it all still worked. After she was done with this dragon she’d deal with this new problem. For now, she had a different dilemma. How was she supposed to kill something she couldn’t touch?

She examined Spike and tapped into what she knew about him, looking for anything she could use. The ability he had called upon or awakened was localized to a small area around him now and she had never seen anything like it. Physically, she noticed that he seemed… bigger. The neck that was so stubby when he was young had elongated leaving his head dangling close to the floor. His shoulder blades looked exaggerated, more like swollen lumps with darker scales than the smooth back he’d enter the castle with. Small movements under the lumps stretched his scales and made them look alive. His tail had grown, she was sure of it. The strength of it’s thrashing was leaving spade-shaped marks all over the floor behind him.

He simply didn’t match up with what she knew of him or dragons. It was her job to surprise and she didn't enjoy being surprised, more so by prey. Her instincts told her to find a way to restrain him but her mind was wary of getting close again. It didn't take her long to compromise and settle on her fabled party cannon. If it obliterated him it was a sacrifice she was willing to make..

Pinkamena struggled to retrieve the cannon. She still didn't understand why, for the first time in her life, the things that normally happened for her were failing. She took a deep breath and concentrated on her cannon. After a few seconds of nothing, her hooves slipped into her mane and brought out a cannon that dwarfed her in size. Once used as the ultimate party tool, the device now replaced confetti and glitter with glass and metal shrapnel. She disliked using it because the victims rarely survived and if they did they were so mangled she couldn't have any fun.

She called out with a voice of silk towards Spike, “You’ve been a very annoying guest. I gave exactly what you asked for,” a frustrated grin grew on her face. “But alas our time together is over. I hope you had as much fun as I didn't.” The grin turned sour and she worked on aiming the cannon towards Spike. Once she got her target lined up she shrugged. She was still disappointed, fireworks should be saved for the finale, something to end a party. She shook her head in dissappointment and focused on the silver lining. She still had one chance left to have a long night.

Her eyes took in Spike a final time. She wasn't sure if the strange energy around him shrunk or he had grown to fit it but it clung to him like a second skin. The lumps on his back had grown angular, pointed, stretched. They reminded her of the many broken bones she had inflicted upon so many ponies. The movements beneath his skin had spread to other parts of his body. Robust, thick arms and legs replaced his teenage skinny limbs. Large claws adorned scaled hands that looked as if they couldn't keep up with his new growth. His torso and tail, while larger, lagged behind. To Pinkamena he looked rather comical, certainly not the dangerous form from earlier.

As much as she wanted to see how it turned out, the previous events and her gut said he needed to die now. She went to yank the drawstring but her hoof froze. Old feelings rose from the back of her mind, feelings of a lost friendship. What would Twilight think of murdering her number one apprentice? Pinkamena’s voice roared in her mind, “What would Twilight think? What would Twilight think?” Hoof still wrapped around the drawstring, her face twisted in rage. She began shouting at nopony in particular, “I don’t care what Twilight thinks.” Her mask of rage broke becoming downcast and pathetic. Her eyes became unfocused and she whispered, “I don’t care what anypony thinks.” Her hind-hoof smashed into the ground and Pinkamena regained her composure. She shouted at Spike, “What have done, you stupid dragon? This is your fault!”

Whatever emotions had stopped her before disappeared. She took a moment to savor the upcoming gore and put her foreleg in position to end the troublesome dragon’s life. As she pulled the string back Spike’s head snapped up and a wave of force rocked from his body. It sent Pinkamena spinning to the floor, pulling the drawstring.

A satisfying explosion sprayed its deadly contents. The sound of glass and metal rained from the other side of the room, a mixture of screeches and tinkling. She shook her head and stood up to see the mangled corpse of Spike. Instead, she saw him standing on all fours completely unharmed. A quick check of the cannon revealed the shock wave had sent the blast in the wrong direction. She followed the path of damage to Fluttershy. The mask she had so carefully crafted was ripped and torn, bits of glass sticking out. The entire back portion of the mannequin was a mess of wooden chunks mixed with twisted metal.

“You. Are. Ruining. Everything!” Pinkamena screamed in aggravation. She didn’t care anymore. She'd overcome whatever abilities he had and end this personally. Her hoof wrapped around the now glowing ruby handle. In the end, she could always rely on her knife. The knife that had introduced her to this wonderful world. She didn’t know why but she couldn’t have gone through with the first kill without it. And now, now it would lead to her to this kill and the next. Besides, the strange after-effects of the waves didn’t seem to be affecting her anymore.

More vibration surged through the floor and up Pinkamena’s bones. The shock wave hit her, pushing her a few feet and leaving behind grooves where her hooves had dug in.

Spike stood unmoving, legs braced against the floor while his snakelike neck craned towards the ceiling. The layer of energy that surrounded him coalesced before fading beneath his skin. A new sound grew, a grating rumbling noise. Spike’s body shook and skin undulated as the sound increased. His throat bulged while his mouth twisted and strained as it widened.

What was a rumble became a roar.