Surrounded by lumbering towers of box-packed steel frames and their shadows scattered about by the multitude of pale orange lights, guards stood in the center clearing of the loading bay once again. This time in a much larger force, adding up to a total of thirty nine, all sporting blank knit masks. Twenty nine remained shoulder-to-shoulder, their line spanned nearly from one side of the room to another. Though most of them were pegasi, there were a few unicorns and earth ponies. The extra ten - all pegasi - remained at their back like a second layer of defense. With the main attraction being garage doors that have yet to move, each guard waited… but not very patiently.

There were plenty of relaxed stances and chatter, some guards even breaking formation to go talk to others across. There was casual talk of sports, politics, jokes and taking time off. Rainbow Dash with her balaclava rolled up on top of her head like a cap, paid none of the banter any mind as she stood astute within the center of the larger lineup. Though her stance was a stiff and attentive, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Pinkie Pie is here, in my factory. My home, she thought. It felt like fire should be erupting from the floor, every indoor window looking into the garage should have panicking ponies slamming on them in desperation to escape a horrific fate, every wall should be dripping blood with its own like a sign of a coming apocalypse; yet somehow everything was normal. It just didn’t seem right, especially with all these friendly, chatty workers about, acting as if the day was no different than any other. Why couldn’t she be like them?

She quickly got sick of worrying, and pushed those anxieties deep down for the time being, focusing instead on a more pleasant thought: what just death she might grant the prisoner.

Maybe, she smirked to herself, I could toss her hind legs first into a fan! Nah. Too quick. Oh. I could strap her to a fan! No… she’ll have too much fun with that. Well whatever happens, once I become a director, I could paint my new office with her blood! No wait, terrible idea, that would stink like crazy after a while. Though I could put her severed head outside my door on a pike! Nopony will mess with me if I do that.

Rainbow grinned ever wider to herself at such a gruesome but goofy idea. However that happy thought was sucked away as soon as she saw a certain stallion. He strutted before the lined up masses with a cocky snap of his hips, as if he was some sort of runway model. And like a movie star, he even shot a couple other ponies a hoof-gun point complete with a twinkling smirk.

Announcer, Rainbow thought in the same way one would think about a returning rash.

His coat was a swirl of browns like almonds and his mane a dirty blond. His prefered specially tailored suit was its usual deep blue. He pointed a pearly white smile so fake it might as well have been plastic. Though he sounded as cheerful as could be, he said his usual, “hey Boss,” with a faintly mocking hiss and a flimsy salute. “Can’t let you take the center spotlight all by yourself.”

She moved aside, only glancing back as his maskless, young, pretty-boy face as he squeezed into the rest of the lineup. Didn’t even look like his mask was ready in his pockets. “Care to start wearing your balaclava like the rest of us?”

“What’s the point? I mean other than looking big and scary. There are enough guards here to do that for us. Plus, covering this face would be like dumping a can of paint over masterful art.”

Rainbow couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she did want to snap back with, actually, your nose is looking browner than usual today. But she didn’t want to start any sort of drama with him again, be it casual snide line or competitive glares. However, right out the gate, he just had to strum her proverbial pink nerve.

“So, heard you got a new girlfriend around~”

Just as she barely managed to not send a hoof flying his way as she struggled to crack open her lips into a crooked a smile to speak through, “are you trying to goad me into feeding you your own teeth?”

Unfortunately, threats of violence were rather commonplace among the desensitized workers, though most tend to be joking. Announcer was hardly swayed from a smirky claim to innocence. “Hey now, calm down. Where’s all this hostility coming from?”

“I don’t know,” said Rainbow, her tone darkening. “Maybe it has something to do with you always trying to take my job.”

“Take your job?” He innocently batted his eyes. “From my boss who is always cool-tempered and as sweet as honey? Well I never. And you’re saying the prisoner is not your girlfriend? S’all I wanna know. I guess I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have during briefing.”

Rainbow’s razor sharp stare bore into him. The words, “you’re fired” clung to the tip of her tongue when around him, but to let that slip out would be of no use. He might have been under her in rank, but not under her enough for her to send him packing without a more plausible reason than just labeling him as a total asshole. Right then, she was tempted to call him just that, even had her mouth open to do so, but luckily she was distracted by the buzzing of the opening garage door. As she slipped on her mask, Rainbow unleashed an ounce of her frustration in her following shout.

“Take positions!”

All chatter stopped, and broken spaces in the lineup were filled. Masks all around were properly equipped. In an instant, every pony turned from a casual worker to a militant guard. The ten pegasi at the back took to the air creating a loose sphere of guards around the massive door as it drew up, letting in a gust of fresh wind which helped stave off the musty scent of old cardboard and wooden planks. Through this large entrance a trio of carriages were pulled into the garage, the doors sealing shut behind the vehicles.Once the doors were sealed shut, their payloads were unleashed. A flood of confused ponies of all breeds, many barely reaching adulthood, stumbled out to gather before the line of silent equin in masks and suits. The new arrivals had been fenced in like a herd of confused cattle filling the room with whimpering, whining and questions.

From the suits that stood as statues would, Announcer stepped out in greeting. If him breaking the line-up didn’t draw the crowd’s eyes, his ability to live up to his name did as his booming voice overpowered all others. “Welcome, welcome, one and all! Ladies and gents! I shall be your host for your remaining time here and... what’s that you ask?” He cheekily held a hoof to his ear at the imaginary pony in question. “Where is here? Why you’re all in the one and only Rainbow Factory of course!”

To his credit - and Rainbow was rather surprised she could give him any - he did his job well and with pride. His smile only seemed honest when working an audience like an overjoyous circus ringleader.

He continued, “and what exactly are you doing here in the factory? A very good question there too! But don’t you worry your ugly little faces, I’ll answer that one soon enough! First thing I need you to follow me!”

Back within the crowning hall of the factory, within the comfort of Director Silk’s office, she was at her desk. After her meeting with Rainbow Dash and a few more words with the prisoner, she was swept away by other business not worth noting. But she was back with a plethora of blank pages waiting to be filled by her busy pen. Her attention, of course, on her wall of security monitors.

Several screens flickered with footage of the new arrivals appearing at the docks. But while it was considered dutiful and was rather habitual to oversee such important events, it was barely any of her concern... less something went awry. Her focus elsewhere on other security feeds showed a good level of trust in her employees. To hopefully gain another trusted worker, Silk had spent the last while instructing Pinkie Pie on how to work her confined station.

“Alright, Miss Pie,” she said, “please repeat the process from the beginning.”

Pinkie nearly became a pink blur, zipping between points of interest, starting with the large withered pipe running through the very center of her room and along the floor. It looked like a massive rusty nail had punched its way into the freshly built cell. Its prisoner’s voice once again came in clear through the office’s surround sound speaker set.

“I press the button here, the water will gush and flow! It'll go through this filter, then this filter, and this filter, and this filter, and this filter, and this filter, and this filter, and this filter, and this filter too! When one of the filter grate thingies are all full, its green light will go red and will stop the flow! I then dump the filter’s icky contents into the incinerator - which smells delicious by the way - then place the filter back and keep the juice flowin’~”

“Very good. From there the stream will continue down into the other many purification chambers, which will break up and clean out any remaining filth.”

Within her notebook, Silk recorded thoughts kept silent. She remembered well Pinkie’s previous records by other therapists. They certainly touched on the subject’s ADHD, but Pinkie’s astute attention to detail was very noteworthy, yet only glossed over in the past. It indicated a possible high level of IQ that Pinkie did not flaunt. Though it was no surprise that the prisoner was smart. It’s almost always the sharp witted that are the most touched in the head.

“Oh! I have a question!” Pinkie bounced just once without her hooves leaving the ground.

“I might have an answer.”

“What exactly am I disposing here?”

A rather unseen mischievous grin crossed Silk’s face. She opened her lips to unveil the dark truth to Pinkie’s surprise.

“It’s diced up pony parts, isn’t it?”

Pinkie practically made off like a thief in the night after having stolen Silk’s ability to speak, if for a moment. The Director’s eyes lit up in astonishment. The beginnings of a few words left her while the rest remained missing. She hadn't even uttered a word of the factory's violent deeds before. Though Silk was certain Pinkie wasn't just lucky with guesses, she quickly recomposed with a clearing of her throat. “What makes you ask that,” she inquired.

Pinkie chortled as she pointed to the incinerator chute with a hoof and a joke. “I'm a baker, silly! So of course I know the taste and smell of burnt pony like the back my hoof!” Pinkie had then opened the sliding door of the chute and took a deep breath, sucking in a horrid scent that was often complained about by other workers. “Ahhh~”

It became clear to Silk that the mare was quite keen... maybe as keen as she was disturbed. Thus, a bad feeling crawled over the director. Keeping a crazed pony down was one thing, but one so much smarter than anticipated? She noted it to be wise to double the security around that cell. It was the best she could think of for the moment.

Disappointment weighed more on Silk’s tone than her amused expression. “Well, there goes that surprise.”

“If it makes you feel better, I have no idea why you're tossing pony pieces! How does this all tie into making rainbows?”

"I suppose I do owe you an explanation there. First, answer me this: do you remember anything about young ponies having to take aptitude tests of sorts? It used to be just for pegasi, but that's been changed not too long ago.”

“You all failed!” Announcer shouted, his powerful voice easily bounding by echoes on its way down a long, dimly lit corridor that was packed to the brim with shivering ponies. They had moved so deep into the factory that the air became stiff and heavy. All around them, rusted pipes seemed like the bars of an oversized cage, laying further deep the feeling of being trapped. If any pony ran forth they would have to mow down Announcer and the squad of ominous suits at his side. If they ran back, what seemed like a full battalion would greet them. They were given no choice but to listen to the shouting stallion as he stood before a large set of dark metal doors, each bombarded with heavy dents that looked to have been made from the other side.

“You failed! Failed! Failed! Fucking failed!” Announcer nearly screamed the shame into their hearts as a forehoof struck a door, making it shiver all the same. “To weak to fly or plow! To stupid to cast magic or even pass a simple written test! Just cognitive enough to be drooling sacks of living flesh, fur and even feathers.” Then everything about him suddenly softened. “So now, you mules are here with us.” His lips had stretched back across his face. “We… can put you to good use. All you have to do is keep following me past this one… last… door.”

Many felt a tremble beneath their skin as the grinding metal hinges on the double doors cried out in pain. The path was open and the proverbial mules stepped past and spread outward like water from a leaking dam. From a near suffocating squeeze of walls to an opening that could be compared to half the size of a hoofball field, the fresh ponies gawked about. A sickly smell like copper and oil filling their snouts.

The lighting was no better here. The roof couldn’t even be seen past the lights glowing a dim orange like a dying sun. Machines of unknown sorts spanned across the walls. Some abuzz with life, others as quiet as a corpse. From them and the darkness above, pipes both grim and gleaming, spanned around in almost complete disorder like a half tattered spider web; some pipes spawned from the black-nothing above to hang overhead while others closely hugged the walls. The ground was mainly concrete with various squares of grates that trembled beneath the many passing hooves. But no matter where the ponies stepped, there were stains, most of suspicious dark sorts that didn’t want to be guessed at.

At the very end of the cavernous room, on the complete opposite side from which the crowd had entered, was the true eye-catcher: a stage, complete with two spotlights. It’s dull gray metallic frames were attached to the rust-riddled wall behind it. Its platform raised from the floor so that even the tallest of ponies couldn’t peek over it without stepping back. If they tried to climb it, the rails all around would become a decent obstacle. Not that the collecting mules around would want to for what sat center stage is what looked to be a full throne, one made purely of copper. Not a single cushion for comfort. Though it shined with a fine coat of polish while spotted with irreparable dark spots of discoloration. Above it and ever more discomforting to stare at, was half a suspended copper cage, looking like an opened lid to the front of the over-sized chair. Its bars flat, but not too thin to break by the hoof of any pony.

The mighty throne, basking in the almost heavenly white spotlight, seemed to beckon the crowd ever closer as if it were to soon whisper to them its story. The ponies approached, driven by both curiosity and the unkindly shoving guards behind them. With the rest of the suited backup following on in to spread around the entire outskirts of the expansive room, Rainbow Dash appeared last. Two assistants made sure the doors were sealed tight behind her.

The manager had kept a careful eye on everything, making sure no mule or guard strayed. So far, everything ran smoothly. Just like the clueless mass before her, she too turned her rosy eyes to the stage. There, before a propped up microphone, stud Announcer with a small gathering of help not far from him. He looked all too eager to pull that mic close.

“My, my, my,” he grinned mockingly as his sinister tone carried even louder and more distorted through speakers unseen. “What an obedient crowd we have today! Good, good…. Makes this so much easier and quicker. Now gather around, I’ve got something to share with you all! First, I’m going to need a volunteer~!” His gaze swept over the crowd, then swept over again a few more times. His face then filled with irritation as his voice darkened. “Somepony raise a hoof before I break a hoof.”

A hoof came up. It was from a chunky stallion, about a head shorter than Rainbow Dash who often fancied taking the first pick from the masses. He was a pushover earth pony, only needing a single shove from behind and a barked order for him to appear with her on stage before many shimmering eyes. He peered at the copper throne warily before being forced to face the spotlights as Announcer wrapped a forehoof around and pulled the volunteer close.

“A question for my brave assistant here,” Announcer asked almost as if he was speaking to the crowd. “What are rainbows made of?”

That mic was then placed almost impatiently before the chubby pony’s snout. He squinted past the focused lights as shaky breaths rolled over his drying lips. His amplified voice came out like the squeak of a mouse. “Uh… it’s uh… water and… c-color dye. Then there’s sunlight….” His sentence faded.

The mic lingered there for a silent two seconds before Announcer reclaimed it with a low laugh. “Oh, I can see just why you’re here. Wrong,” he mocked again as he waved a hoof, dismissing the shaken earth pony. But he wasn’t returned to his friends below. Rainbow Dash snatched him up with a hooked leg, roughly tugging him backwards to the throne. It’s cage hovering above like a jaw ready to snap on down and eat him. With assistance from a masked stage hand, he was lifted and propped properly, placed square on his rump and tail in the seat. His stubby hind legs too short to touch the floor as they dangled over the edge.

Stunned with confusion, there was very little wiggling in retaliation from him. Just as he feared, that cage top was brought down by a hoof, snapping shut with a loud latch locking it and him in place. Just beyond those flat bars that gave him only a few feet of free space to move… rose-red eyes stared. He then wasn’t sure what to fear most, the mysterious chair he sat in or the masked pony who just silently looked into him with such a cold stare.

Rainbow Dash remained well enough aside, letting others who dare peer into the cage do so. She never looked away from the seated mule herself and he from her. Though the stallion feared moving and speaking out of turn, his expression screamed at her for help. Announcer was rambling on, not yet even mentioning the fate awaited the unknowing. Yet, the seated stallion looked to be in the know as his thick cheeks trembled and his watering eyes pleaded. But his silent begging was in vain.

The masked pegasus before him did nothing, nothing but form what appeared to be the indents of a smile in her mask. It seemed as if she was soaking in the feeling of his fate being nestled in her hooves, which one soon groped a shimmering silver lever at her side. It was rather teasing the way she rubbed it, flaunting her complete control over what was to happen next.

For her, for Rainbow Dash, comfort overtook. Her gaze softening almost lovingly, not for the trapped, but for a strange warm... and almost loving feeling in her chest. The speech beyond her attention had been finished. It was time to do what felt true to her: it was time to be the hero here. Just not this fat pony’s. With a squeeze and a hard pull of that lever, a symphony of shrilling screams began.

“But it’s all hogwash,” said Silk, still addressing Pinkie Pie from the safety of her office.

“What? But making rainbows brighter and prettier out of the lives of others is amazing!”

“Oh I’m not referring to that,” said Silk with a shake of her head. “If I was, our lead scientist would probably try to choke me to death. No, we still take pride in our ability to create such glorious ribbons across the sky. Though… in actuality, and very much to Doctor Atmosphere’s dismay, that is a distant side focus. Our true goal is far more noble.”

Pinkie waited with perked ears clearly going unsatisfied. “Well?” She called out into the quiet. “Don’t leave me hanging here after a line like that! That’s mean!”

Mean indeed and not by accident. A mischievous smile played across the director’s lips as she faked a reluctant response. “Well… the thing is… I am not to share this with any untrustworthy employees, especially our new hires. It is a well kept secret and we like to keep it that way, all for a good reason. It’s a secret that could make or break all of Equestria as we know it. So I hope you understand my caution here.”

“But I’m stuck here! Who am I gonna go blab to? Come on, don’t be such a tease!”

Silk’s yellow eyes shined like the glint of bright candles as she watched her verbal bait being nipped at. “I suppose you have a point. I still want to trust you. I even want you to trust me. If I am to share this with you, I need you to share in return.”

“I’ll share! I’ll keep the secret! You can trust me! I promise, stick a cupcake in my eye and all!”

Silk inched back, blinking in confusion. “Is that a… fetish of sorts?”

“No, silly! It’s a part my patented Pinkie Promise, which no one breaks! Not even me!” Pinkie then took to looking like a cheerleader as she waved her forelegs about along with her short poem. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” The bait was taken.

“Very well.” Oh-so pleased with herself, Silk pulled her mic along with her as she laid back in her chair. “I’ll hold you too that. Now find a seat, make yourself nice and comfy as I have quite a story to share, but I'll try to not make it too long.”

Legs folded beneath her body on the bed, Pinkie waited with open ears and closed lips. Silk had already begun.

***

I suppose the best place to start would be the very beginning. Thousands of years ago, under the wicked snow storms of Equestria, famine and frostbite were commonplace. As you know, these were the harsh winter years of the Windigos; horrible creatures of nature's elements that brought white death with them wherever they went… which was always where ever we equine went. They were as untouchable as the stars and as relentless as predators that never sleep. There was nothing our species could do but struggle to survive.

One day, against the harsh lashings of wind and snow, a desperate village sent out a few more than several hunters. They were to scour a land that was well stripped for food that wasn’t already withered beneath freezing layers. One whose name had been long forgotten took his own path, making sure to stray far from others to where many would not go. He ventured quite a distance under the cover of crowded trees with very heavy branches. Left and right did they snap under the weight of gathered snow, only sometimes hitting him by the scrape of the skin. Each branch landed with a poof in cushiony powder, pretty to witness, but all that snow was like sludge to his weary legs and it hid the rough terrain well. Very dangerous that section of forest was with its steep steps too and only a desperate pony like him would venture so far into the thick of it. It wasn’t just his thinned stomach that spurred him; far behind him was his family — some very sick, but all awaited a cure for their shrinking bellies.

He ventured deep, so deep that even the hard winds had trouble reaching him. The white layers ahead became thin, allowing few plants to appear healthy while glittering with frost. Then miraculously, a great clearing of trees revealed to him bushes of berries, fruits and many edible greens, almost as if it was all well preserved by the frigid temperature. It all looked untouched, even by the nibble of another creature.

With joy surging as a burst of energy in his body, he began to eat. As he did, he counted the banquet around. It could last his whole family for many weeks, months even, if they could hold back from gorging themselves. But it would last the whole village… a week. Maybe two, or so he worried. If shared, either way it wouldn’t last long enough for his sick kin. In his mind, he had found the food, so it was his. Thus plans of sneaking packs under the cover of night were being formed… then disrupted.

Another frail stallion had stepped in from the first’s trail, looking for a possibly lost member. He peered around with wonder and awe at the potential banquet, sharing plans to get it all back to the whole village. That is till the back of his head was struck. He stumbled forth and caught a glimpse behind. The first stallion loomed with a bloody rock in hoof. The follower was struck and struck again ever harder, to weak to fend off the blows, but sturdy enough to survive too many of them. His screams were lost among the winds beyond the trees.

We know not what the attacker truly thought about his actions, but what he claimed is that there shortly after the final blow, a bone-chilling howl of winds rushed over and through the woods like a train. He thought he was being attacked, but he was left unharmed. It all passed by and faded away. When he had turned his head upwards after burying the body, the only snow that fell was from the covered trees tops. The wind was almost no more. Such was rather unbelievable as the two terrors had not ceased beating at him and his home for near countless days before.

The following days after, only sun came from the sky as warm winds cut away layers of white, bit by bit. He had thought that what brought this wanted weather was a blood sacrifice, one that had called the windigos to happily rush past him before taking their harmful elements with them. It was an astute observation, but he was wrong and I will get to why. However, his biggest mistake was his crime being discovered.

The elders of the village fitted him with a punishment to match the crime. No matter how much he shouted his revelation, in the end, he too was buried. But, his claims lingered. When falling flakes and ruthless cold howls eventually returned, a desperate sacrifice was made… then the snow and chill winds were gone again. That was a start of a secret tradition.

But, as I said, the info this village got from the first killer was wrong. The tradition was kicked off by assigning ponies to be the honorable sacrifices. They drank poison and peacefully passed. They slit veins and silently bled out. They died quick and nearly painless deaths. Quite a few smiling corpses were made, but wind and snow still came back with vengeance. While it rattled the bones of the leaders, they rattled each others nerves to discover what was wrong.

One of the leaders, one well versed in all sorts strange creatures and their strange diets, had… the true revelation. To prove it, amidst a heated feud with another leader, he tossed that other down and took a saw to his neck. Slowly. With that life whisked away on sounds of pure suffering, the winter elements were swept off as well. The windigos left, fat and happy.

Have you ever even heard of such beasts swooping down to eat… anything? Even in legend? I would hope not. It would be a lie. Plant nor meat satisfies the windigos, so the simple spilling of blood would not appease them in any way. Instead, much like changelings, they feed on emotion. Though... not love. No no. Suffering is their diet. The more of it… the better. Through it be fear or pain, it matters not. As long as the victim dies under torment, the windigos leave fatter and happier for far longer. Doubly so if not by natural causes or by the base instincts of a different predator. The ill will of the same species killing one another is far more effective - far more filling. All of this info was slowly uncovered over many years after the village adjusted their now everlasting secret tradition. From there, our story becomes less detailed for the sake of time here.

Around that very same period came the start of Hearth’s Warming Eve; the uniting forces of equine of all kinds. The strings of bonds slowly being sewn between unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies depleted suffering from all around… but it was never enough. It was pure fantasy that the windigos were instantly dashed away by the forming of what we celebrate now as a holiday. The beasts still came about for sometime, trying to fight back and return the suffrage of winter. But as time went, the secret tradition expanded and evolved for the better. Through mixtures of magic and science, we learned to absorb emotions as well as these other creatures. We then learned to shoot this strange food through the sky, right to the enemy's habitat high up in the atmosphere as a magnificent light show. Not only would it keep the windigos from reaching our homes, our light shows… our rainbows… put helpful deterring happiness in the hearts and minds of ponies across Equestria. From there, the majority of the tradition was passed to the pegasi. We have kept ponies smiling and the enemy eating out of the palms of our hooves ever since.

Now we come to recent years. Though we pegasi kept the tradition, we’ve recently decided to re-expand our operation back to our other fellow equine. But, that’s a slew of information for another time.

***

With an eased breath, Silk leaned back in her chair. Her lips parched from running for so long. Too bad she didn’t keep a drink nearby.

“I’ve got a question,” said Pinkie, still seen in the monitor laying comfortably on her white cotton sheets. It was rather impressive that she remained quiet for so long. “Why not share this story with everyone? Why keep it all a secret and tell such a half truth?”

“That’s more of two questions,” said Silk, “but two I can answer. First, most ponies, by nature, are very skittish, easy to upset, and don’t take well at all to violence; especially violence against one another. If this truth gets out, it’s very likely the harmony we’ve struggled to keep so many years will crumble and falter. From that, a number of things could happen, most capable of shutting us down and bringing back the windigos. Second, we’re well aware of how crazy half the truth sounds: being that we absorb spectrum from the dead to make rainbows brighter. That, plain and simple, sounds nuts. Sharing that half of the truth or the other stories we make up are both to help instill fear and… serves as a precaution. It’s been a very long time since any sacrifices escaped. If they ever did, they would spout the nonsense we fed them to the world... and most of society would see it as that and shrug them off as just being insane. Sometimes we tell the half-truth to new hires too, just to screw with them. We sometimes have to have fun here in whatever ways we can.”

Silk couldn’t help but chuckle as she thought back. “Trust me, we’ve come up with some interesting false stories too, ranging from ponies being ground up into cereal or into Celestia’s shampoo.” She paused and listened to Pinkie giggle along before continuing. “Now, I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal and shared something very secretive here. I think it’s about time we talk about your secret; the story of what drove you to you murder and cannibalize 34 fellow ponies.”

“35.”

“My mistake. 35.”

Pinkie lifted her head and her gaze. “Hm….” She tapped her chin.

“I’m well aware you’ve been more than reluctant in sharing this with other shrinks. But whatever worries you might have there, well… don’t. You can trust me. I’m a mare that deals in death. I think I’ll have quite an easy time understanding your position. Be your motives good or bad, I don't care. I just want to know why.” A moment of silence, then Silk lifted a brow. “You’re not thinking of backing out of your ‘Pinkie Promise’, are you?”

“Not at all!” Pinkie waved dismissively. “The first half of your story was pretty good… second half was a bit too impersonal and rushed. I liked the happy ending too, but…” Her mouth opened wide, impressively so, as she unleashed a heavy yawn. “Kinda made me feel a bit sleepy.”

“I’ll take the compliment. I did embellish some details after all. But you might wanna hold off on a nap. Work for you is gonna show up any second now.”

“Well, whatever way I come up with to tell my story… I think, I need to do something better. Bigger. More exciting!”

“I’ll be excited just to listen. But very well. Give it some thought, but don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Where once stood a crowd of wide-eyed ponies, whimpering with faces frozen in fear, now was just one who couldn't even stand. There were fresh scratches and dark stains on the floor of which she was being dragged against by her tail. One forelimb stretched out, adding more scratches as it tried to catch traction to pull herself away from the tugging guard. The other forelimb, newly battered and broken, was as useful as a flopping piece of string. She cried and begged and managed to catch herself with a grate. Before her tugging could become anything of a nuisance, the teal hoof of a hero cracked across her face, quickly undoing her grip.

“Oh shut up,” scolded Rainbow Dash.

Without much more of a fight, the poor mare was tugged up the stage, her belly and throat taking jabs from each stair. Then, she was tossed like a ragged doll to the copper chair. To say that it smelled putrid at this point would be a complement. It was glistening red beneath the spotlights, sitting in a pool of shimmering crimson. It was covered in such a thick layer of blood that her rump instantly slipped halfway out of the seat. The cage-like lid to the front of the throne snapped shut, making sure she'd slip no further. The usual shouting, screaming, yelling and begging still came from her. Not a single word of it did her any good.

“Well well,” Announcer chuckled, taunting over her hollering and rattling of the cage. “Looks like you get to be our very highlight of the night! The last to go! You should feel honored! But… who cares about what you feel, right? After all, I’m getting bored here. So it’s time to get this shit over with!” He then did a bit of a fanciful twirl towards the side of the mechanized chair, as if he were dancing the tango on two hooves with an invisible partner... which that partner soon became the dreaded silver lever.

“Now with that,” he shouted triumphantly, “we saaaaaaay...!” He yanked the lever with all of his might. Nothing. It didn't give. He tried again. The metal bar still didn’t budge an inch. “What the hell?” After a few more fruitless tries, he then lightly kicked the defiant switch. “Great! It’s stuck! Hey, Rainbow!” He called out. “How long do you think this lucky mule will have before maintenance can fix this?”

The Lead Manager, whose grey suit was now riddled in red, thought that to be quite a strangely put question, but answered regardless. “Anywhere from minutes to a day or so at most. Probably.”

“Ah,” he nodded and spoke as if in deep thought. “Well it’s stuck good this time. Could actually take a while.” Then from the corner of his eye, he noticed the caged mare finally stopped shouting. There was a glint in her eyes; a glint of hope for even a quiet moment to come to peace with her life. If she were given any longer, she might have even formed a smile, even if it would be a dreary one soaked in tears. But every urge to upturn the corners of her lips quickly faded. Announcer smiled for her. From his lips poured low and cruel words. “Just kidding~”

The lever shifted with complete ease. A loud ‘ka-chunk’ then the sound of bustling gears. Machines all around, even above and below the platform, rumbled with giddy excitement. Then, the seat of the chair popped open like a trap door. Her tail fell right in. Something snapped right down on it and like a vacuum, it was sucked in. She held on for dear life to the small gaps in the cage to keep herself forward but she was pulled harder and harder, too hard to keep resisting. Her grip slipped. Her rump landing deep into the open seat with a spray of fresh blood. Just when it was thought that her screams could get no more horrid, they did.

The copper throne rumbled ever louder like the sounds of large cogs hard at work, tearing flesh and crushing bone. It was like a slow working garbage disposal was taking to her, rear first. The crack of her hips was heard clear from the other side of the room. It crunched and munched her hind and still she was pulled. Legs drenched in the spray of her own blood folded into her stomach. Her back twitched uncontrollably till it felt another torturous snap, turning her high-pitched shrieking into calmer wales of agony with hollow-eyed stares. She had fallen into shock.

Bit by bit, the mare was swallowed into the open seat, leaving behind only sporadic sprays of gore. Her chest tucked fully between her hind legs as she folded like patio furniture. Her half-swallowed body shaking. Mouth open. Eyes glossed over. Soon enough, her head sunk in. It popped like a cherry with its ooze flying right out into the open. Then lastly, her hooves, all four, followed by the sound of significantly hard bone being shattered and ground. The lever was pulled back into place. Bursts of flames meant to fry any entangling hair shot up from the opening, settled, then the hatch closed back up.

“Oh, the look on her face,” Announcer chuckled after a good long laugh. “Priceless~” Others had joined him in smiling, even Rainbow Dash. From there, she passed out hoofshakes and nods, thanking just about every worker involved for a job well done. They were to all depart, leaving any mess for the nightly cleanup crew. When it came down to her and a few others sharing idle chat of their own, she found herself turning her smile to the now crimson throne. Her heart steady. Her breaths light. Eyes soft. Rainbow Dash felt at peace.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FULL RELEASE

Author's Note

That's all for now. Please leave a rating and tell me what you think. I look forward to hearing any feedback. If you would like to help with the full story, please feel free to message me here or email me at keystrix@gmail.com.