Chapters Interview With A Mad Mare
The warden reluctantly unlocked the door with a glow of his horn. The door swung open as a pegasus mare in a guard's uniform pushed it from the inside. She was pink in coat, and had a pale orange mane with streaks of deep purple.
She greeted the two of them with a bright smile and said, "The inmate's been awaiting your arrival."
She turned her smile onto Pound and began vigorously shaking one of his hooves, "You must be Pound Cake! Oh, she's so excited for your interview. She hasn't stopped raving about it all week!"
'She?' he asked himself with thoughts. 'Well, at least I have a gender to work with now.'
Pound gave the warden a confused glance, but smiled at the overly energetic guard nonetheless.
The warden gave a long sigh before introducing the guard. "Mr. Pound, this is Locket Down. She's the guard assigned to this wing. She's responsible for your safety during your visit."
Pound smiled once more at the pegasus before glancing over her shoulder at the open doorway. Beyond, he could see a long hall, lined with empty cells, and ending in a small doorway he couldn't quite see into. Nopony else was in the hallway.
"Why's she the only guard in this wing?" asked Pound as he made this observation.
Locket chuckled nervously as Cellblock answered his question.
"She's the only guard the inmate will allow to be in this wing."
"What do you mean?" asked Pound, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you control who guards what wing?"
"Yes," replied the warden. "Of course. It's just that..." he trailed off.
"Last time they tried to move me and station somepony else with her," Locket continued for him, "they ended up in the psych ward and had to go through therapy for months."
"What?" asked Pound as he felt his jaw drop. He looked at Cellblock and Locket in turn, and they nodded in unison to confirm that what the guard had said was the truth.
"What happens when you're out sick?" he asked Locket.
"Oh," she said matter-of-factly, "I can never get sick."
"Well," Cellblock said, obviously trying to change the subject as Pound began writing in his notepad again, "I'm afraid I have to handle things elsewhere. Locket, the protection of Mr. Pound and his sanity is your utmost priority. Don't let me down."
"You got it, sir," Locket responded with a small salute using her wing.
As the warden walked towards another section of the Breadbox, Locket turned her full attention towards Pound with a wide smile.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Pound took another look over the pegasus' shoulder and gulped. Finding comfort in the guard's energetic personality, he was able to calm himself down enough to choke out a few words.
"Absolutely. Lead the way."
Author's Note
Locket Down's name and design are based on the G1 pony, Locket.
Interview With A Mad Mare
Locket quickly escorted Pound down the hall and through the doorway on the opposite end. Inside, he saw a dimly lit room. A light hanging from the ceiling in the center of the massive room was the only light source he could see. It cast a fairly wide cone of light, more easily seen than the shadowy surroundings, but even that was dim and hard to see clearly. Pound had a feeling the bulb would probably need changed soon, but he also suspected everypony would probably be too afraid to change it.
About half of the room was taken up by a huge, square cage in its center. In the cage's center was the cone of light, which barely illuminated the edges of the cage, and in the center of the dim light was the cage's occupant.
The earth pony within the cage looked weak, and she sat on the floor in a hunched position with her ridiculously long mane draped over every side of her body. Pound could hardly even make out where her face was, but her muzzle shifted some of her hair to the sides, allowing him to see that part of her face. He guessed that nopony was brave enough to try giving her a haircut, and nopony was crazy enough to supply her the scissors needed to do it herself. Even through the mess of hair that was this mare's mane, Pound could make out two perfectly clear and calm eyes boring steadily into his soul as he approached.
He took a seat in a chair that was placed a few feet away from the cage's edge and opened his mouth to introduce himself.
"Pound Cake," interrupted the inmate in a slow yet cheerful tone that sent chills down Pound's spine. "Welcome. I've been wanting to see you for a long time."
"Long time?" asked Pound jokingly. "You sent me that letter less than a week ago!"
She let out a light chuckle, both unsettling and somehow endearing. It sent waves of nostalgia through Pound, though he wasn't quite sure why.
"So, what's your name?" Pound asked casually, being careful to not display his fear.
"Oh, I think you'll know by the time we're finished."
Thoroughly confused, he looked back towards Locket, who was standing casually in the doorway.
"Don't look at me!" she said quickly. "She asked the warden and I not to tell you her name. Can't for the life of me imagine why."
"If you wouldn't mind, my dear Locket," chimed in the inmate, now glaring at the guard, "I'd like to continue our interview privately ."
Locket glanced nervously between the door and the inmate before settling her gaze questioningly at Pound.
"It's fine," he said.
"If something goes wrong," he added jokingly, "listen for the scream."
Locket seemed to not enjoy the joke, for she visibly gulped as she retreated back through the door, closing it behind her.
"So," Pound said to the inmate. "Shall we continue?"
Interview With A Mad Mare
"Before we begin," started the inmate once Locket had left the room, "do you mind if I ask you some things?"
"Ummm..." Pound trailed off.
'It wouldn't hurt to gain her trust before we begin,' reasoned his mind.
"OK," he replied aloud. "Ask away."
"How's your family?" she asked as if she were a colleague from work instead of an incarcerated murderer.
"I don't know," he lied. He had a feeling it was best to keep his family out of this, at least for the time being. "Haven't talked to them in months."
"Well, if that's not a lie I don't know what is," said the inmate, somehow seeing straight through his ruse. "C'mon, Pound. Aren't we friends?"
The idea of this criminal calling him a friend sent chills careening down his spine, but he knew she wouldn't answer his questions honestly if she knew he'd lied answering hers.
"Fine," he said. "I come from a family of bakers. My mom and dad run a bakery together."
"And your sister?" she asked.
"I don't have a sister," he lied once more. His parents were a long ways away in Ponyville, but Pumpkin would definitely freak out if she discovered Pound had discussed her with a killer.
"Now, Pound," said the murderous Pony, cocking her head slightly to the side. "If you're going to keep lying to me, then I won't be held responsible for any false answers you put into your article."
Watching her move was a very unsettling experience. Her hunched posture and prying eyes gave the viewer a deep chill, yet the movements she performed were almost... cute. Pound thought her long mane was somewhat reminiscent of that old-school Power Ponies villain, whatever her name was, yet the way it covered her face looked a lot like something a shy pony might do to shield themselves from the world.
"Fine," he relented with a sigh, "She opened a bakery of her own a while back."
"Much better," said the inmate, her blue eyes still attempting to pierce their way into his soul.
Pound could only hold eye contact with her for a few moments before he had to look down towards her hooves.
"Glad to know they're all doing well," she continued, sounding quite pleased.
Interview With A Mad Mare
"So, let's talk about you now," said Pound, having already discussed his personal life too much for his liking.
"Oh, alright," said the inmate. "If we must."
"Tell me a bit about yourself," requested Pound.
"Well, let's see here," the inmate said as she tapped her chin with a hoof. "I used to wear so many hats. I held so many titles. I suppose we should start with a simple one: foalsitter."
The idea of this pony's title card being so full was close to humorous to Pound, but the idea of a murderer foalsitting threw him for a loop.
"You see," continued the inmate, undeterred by the thoughts she could not hear, "I was the foalsitter for a couple. They had two kids, and I loved them like they were my own. I really did. I would always be responsible when I foalsat them, but they were quite the handful, you know?"
Pound nodded in agreement. He'd tried foalsitting a few years back, so he knew how hard it could be.
"Nonetheless," she continued, "I'd always try to make them laugh. That was the most important thing to me: giving people what they want."
"Ponies," interrupted Pound.
"What?"
"You mean ponies, right?"
"Oh, yes, right. Ponies. Giving ponies what they want."
She shook her head a little bit, as if shaking something out of her mind.
"Anyways," she resumed after a moment, "I would always try to make them laugh. I had a song I sang to them sometimes, but they almost never laughed at it."
"A song?" Pound asked, now genuinely curious in where the inmate was going with this.
"Sure," she said, "it went something like this..."
She began to sing in an eerily slow and steady tone that chilled Pound to his core:
First you wiggle your tail Oink. Oink. Oink.
Then you wiggle your snout Oink. Oink. Oink.
Then you wiggle you rump Oink. Oink. Oink.
"Then shout it out," Pound found himself saying. "I know this song. An old friend used to sing it to me."
"How interesting," the inmate said as a small smile crept across her lips.
"How so?"
"We also had a game we used to play," she said, continuing her story instead of answering his question. "I'd hide behind a door, and then I'd pop my head through and surprise them."
Once again, Pound was reminded of his childhood. A terrifying puzzle was piecing itself together in his mind, and he didn't like it one bit.
"It was a lot like Peek-A-Boo," continued the now startlingly familiar inmate. "Only, we didn't call it that. We called it..."
"Where's Pinkie Pie," Pound finished for her.
He received a broad smile in response as she uttered three words that would haunt his dreams for days to come.
"Here I am. "
Author's Note
Interview With A Mad Mare
The truth came unraveled before Pound Cake, like some kind of grotesque knot that just kept unwinding no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Looking the inmate in the eyes yet again, he now understood why eye contact had felt so off-putting before.
It had felt familiar.
The piercing blue eyes looked back at him through the dimly lit bars of the cage, once again gazing into his soul. He didn't try to stop it this time. He simply continued to stare at the now-all-too-familiar inmate. Looking into those eyes, he could remember what she had looked like before. The long, straight hair that now buried her body, pulling her into a hunched position with its weight, was once curlier than one could imagine. It had looked almost exactly like cotton candy. Her coat had paled as she aged, leaving the once vibrant pink as something more akin to a pink-tinted grey. Her tail had been as curly and poofy as her mane had once been, but it now lay as straight as her mane, wrapping delicately around her hooves before trailing behind her. Her flanks were covered by her long mane, but Pound didn't need to see them to know what he'd find: three colorful balloons.
Despite the physical changes that had kept Pound from recognizing her sooner, her eyes hadn't changed. Those bright blue eyes were still just as vibrant as they were when he was a foal.
This entire transaction took only a few seconds, and the full brunt of the realization struck Pound like a lightning bolt.
He began to shake, trembling with a mix of disbelief, terror, and sorrow.
"This is why you never came back?" he finally managed to choke out a question.
"What?" questioned his old friend.
"One day, you left Sugarcube Corner to run some errands," Pound's words trembled as ferociously as his body, "and you never came back."
Tears began to well up as he spoke.
"This is why?" he asked again.
"Oh, Pound, sweetie," said the mare in the cage, sounding surprisingly similar to a consoling parent, "I never wanted to leave you. You and Pumpkin were like my own children."
"Then why?" he choked out, tears now rolling down his cheeks in a cascade.
"Why what?"
"Why did you leave us?" he screamed, pounding a hoof against the concrete floor hard enough to leave a small crack.
Locket came rushing through the door at the sound of the scream. Upon seeing Pound trembling and crying, she quickly pulled him towards the door.
"No, Locket, what are you doing?" he yelled out, trying to resist, but the guard was stronger than she looked. She easily pulled him out through the door, dropping him on the floor. He quickly turned to face the door and the inmate beyond it.
The inmate had been watching as he was pulled out the door. Once he was looking toward her again, she formed a bright, cheery, and familiar smile.
"Same time next week?" she asked innocently.
And just like that, the door was slammed shut, and his old foalsitter left his view.
Author's Note
Do you like the new cover art? Should I try a different one? Feel free to let me know!
Interview With A Mad Mare
"Same time next week?"
Pinkie's words still rattled through Pound's mind as he returned to the apartment he and his sister shared. He checked the mail, but there wasn't anything there. This was fairly common, for Pumpkin usually checked the mailbox in the mornings and took whatever was inside with her to the bakery. Pound often didn't find out about mail addressed to him until Pumpkin returned home in the afternoon.
He sat on the couch, cradling a glass of something quite a bit stronger than apple cider, until he finally gave up on trying to relax. His nerves were wound up like a spring, and he really didn't want to be alone with his thoughts, which still echoed back the words of his former foalsitter. With this in mind, he decided to stop by the bakery his sister ran.
Pumpkin wasn't shocked to see her brother arrive, but she was surprised by the almost pained expression on his face.
She finished checking out her latest customer before going over to comfort him.
"Pound? What's wrong?" she asked. "Did something happen at the interview?"
"It's," he started, but he paused as if contemplating his word choice. "I was just sent on an unpleasant trip down memory lane. That's all."
"OK," she said, giving him a side hug. She wasn't one to push for information if he didn't want to give it. "Just let me know if you need anything, 'kay?"
He gave a half-hearted nod, and Pumpkin went back to her space behind the counter. It wasn't long before Pound had taken a seat on one of the stools across the counter from his sister.
"Hey, sis," he started, catching Pumpkin's attention. "What do you remember about Pinkie Pie?"
As his words left his muzzle, Pumpkin dropped the plate she'd been holding out of surprise. It clattered to the ground loudly.
"Pinkie Pie?" she asked as she began to pick up the mess. "Our old foalsitter? Gosh, I don't think I've even thought about her for a while now."
"I know, right?" her brother replies, still looking plain miserable.
"Well, I remember she was always trying to make us laugh. Even if it didn't always work. Hey, didn't she have that, like, ridiculously poofy manestyle? Wait a second. Why are you thinking of Pinkie all of a sudden?"
Her brother was quiet for a moment before replying.
"I just saw somepony that reminded me of her today, that's all."
Pumpkin could tell Pound was hiding something, and she didn't much enjoy the fact that her brother was keeping secrets from her. However, if he was this shaken by whatever had happened, she wasn't going to push it any farther until he calmed down a bit.
The rest of the day, Pound continued wallowing in the aftershock of his encounter with Pinkie. He was extremely thankful that his sister was there for him. Seeing how worried she was just because he was upset, he got the distinct suspicion that neither of them would know what to do without the other.
Author's Note
Sorry for the long wait! I've been working on other projects here on FimFiction, and honestly didn't even notice how long it had been since I'd updated this story. I hope to be getting back to regular updates shortly!
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
Interview With A Mad Mare
Most of the next day passed uneventfully. Pound didn't have work today, so he sat at home trying to keep his inner demons at bay. They almost resurfaced at one point, but he was rescued by his sister returning home from the bakery. Setting the day's mail on the counter as she entered, she levitated one envelope over to Pound.
"You got mail today," she said, as if the envelope Pound was now holding wasn't evidence enough of that.
Pound felt a frog lodge itself down his throat upon noticing who'd sent the letter. It was from Warden Cellblock.
He hesitated for a long moment before starting to open the envelope. Inside was a note from the warden and a sheet of paper that seemed to contain a word search puzzle written out by hoof. The latter of the two objects seemed cryptic for the moment, so he instead turned his attention towards the warden's note.
Mr. Pound,
I am so sorry to bother you again so soon after your unpleasant visit here at the Breadbox.
However, the inmate you interviewed has requested I send you this message along with the included paper. It seems to be some kind of word search puzzle, but it seems harmless enough. I'm not sure how she wrote it out. We searched her cell for writing utensils, but found nothing. In hindsight, she probably had Locket write it for her. Either way, I hope you are feeling better after a good night's rest.
Also, the inmate claims to have scheduled another interview with you for the same time next week. I will have to approve it, of course, but I am not strictly against allowing this to occur. I must, however, suggest caution moving forward. If this information is true, please make an appointment to meet with me later this week. I look forward to seeing you again.
Sincerely,
Warden Cellblock
The breath caught in his throat again as he learned that this puzzle had been seemingly written by Pinkie herself.
"Same time next week?" he muttered, echoing the words that had plagued his thoughts for the past 24 hours. "Yeah, right. As if."
He turned his full attention to the strange scrawled-out word puzzle. It seemed to have the same puzzle on both sides, but the letters were erratically spaced, making it somewhat difficult to tell what line certain letters belonged in. Some letters were also capitalized, seemingly at random. It was simply titled "I". Taking a pencil in his wing, he set to work finding all of the words he could. The spacing of the puzzle still made no sense, but at least the words he was finding were real terms.
Fourth
plAnT
FluFFernutter
Wall
KirIn
Break
He stared at the word search for another solid ten minutes, but couldn't find any other words within the chaotic mess. As he worked, he'd written each word on a page in his notepad. No matter how long he went through the words, though, he couldn't seem to place any meaning behind it.
He picked up the demented puzzle in his wings, lifting it into the air and flipping it around just to make sure he wasn't missing anything.
"Huh. I guess Pinkie wanted me to have fun?" he said to himself, not really convinced at all.
Something caught his eye as he turned the sheet once again. If held up to the light, he could see the pencil marks he'd made faintly through the sheet. What caught his eye was that one of the circles, due to the awkward spacing of the letters on the page, had combined letters that weren't even in the same lines to spell out the word "thought."
Quickly, he flipped it back to the side he'd solved and went over his markings again, this time with black marker. As expected, the marker bled through the paper, allowing him to easily see it on the other side. Upon flipping the paper yet again, he was startled to find that each of the circles contained a word or two.
"Celestia's good graces," he muttered to himself. "That weird spacing was on purpose."
He wrote down the secret words that had been revealed to him in his notepad and tried to create a message with them.
Wanted To
Thought
You
Why I
Know
Left
He pieced together a few partial sentences from it, but there was still something missing. He looked over the paper again. A lightbulb seemed to go off as his gaze fixed on the title of the puzzle. I . Just a single letter.
"Or a single word ," he said, adding the word I to the list. Upon unscrambling the complete message, his heart skipped a beat.
Just to confirm what his eyes were telling him, he read it aloud.
"I thought," he found himself saying, "you wanted to know why I left."
Drat. Pinkie had given him a puzzle. Something she knew he couldn't resist. And she'd used it to play him like a fiddle. She'd sent the only message that she knew would get him back there. He had to know. She knew he had to know.
He was stuck pondering his life choices as he contacted the Breadbox and scheduled an appointment with Warden Cellblock.
'Same time next week?' echoed Pinkie's voice in his head.
"Oh, shut up," he replied.
Author's Note
I sincerely hope my description of how the puzzle was solved made sense to all of you. I'm not 100% certain I explained it effectively.
Interview With A Mad Mare
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Pumpkin Cake.
"Of course!" replied Pound Cake, her twin brother. "This is the opportunity I've been waiting for! The scoop of the century!"
This is Pound Cake, one of the many news reporters working in Manehattan. While his sister had followed in their parents' footsteps and opened a bakery, he had deviated from that path long ago. Despite their difference in career choices, they'd still decided to move in together when they'd moved to Manehattan. I suppose that shows how close they still are as siblings. Nonetheless, they constantly had petty squabbles with each other over trivial things, as siblings often do. This, however, was not one of those.
Earlier that week, Pound had received a letter from the warden of a maximum security prison here in Manehattan: one of the few in Equestria. According to the warden, one of the inmates had caught wind of Pound's entry into the world of journalism and had requested that he interview them. The inmate wasn't named in the letter, but it was made clear that this was their first request since being incarcerated. The first one that could actually be granted, that is.
As Pound had continued to read the letter, his breath caught in his throat. He'd finally found out what the inmate's crime was. They were the rarest kind of criminal in all of Equestria, and none of them had ever asked to be interviewed before now.
"You know I want you to succeed," Pumpkin said worriedly, "but are you sure this interview is the only way?"
"How can I turn this down?" Pound questioned. "Nopony has ever gotten to question one before!"
"And maybe there's a good reason for that?"
"I'm sorry Pumpkin, but I'm going to that prison this weekend, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. My big scoop is coming, and it's going to be one that nopony has ever gotten close to before! A look into the mind... of a murderer ."
Interview With A Mad Mare
"Hi, my name is Pound Cake. I'm scheduled for an interview with an inmate today."
The guard he'd just spoken to wordlessly walked into a small room a few feet away and made a phone call.
"Please wait here," said the near emotionless guard upon his return. "The warden will be here shortly."
"Th-thank you," Pound stumbled over his words, unnerved by the guards disposition.
'Is this what everypony here is like?' he thought to himself.
He and the guard both heard a sharp knock on the heavy metal door a few minutes later. The guard, once again without words, went to the same small room he'd gone to earlier and pressed a button. A loud buzz and a flash of red light signaled to both sides of the door that it was now unlocked.
A unicorn stallion with a dark, almost navy blue coat and white mane leaned out of the doorway and ushered Pound inside.
"Hello, Mr. Cake," said the stallion as Pound entered the prison. "I'm Warden Cellblock."
Pound reached out a hoof for the warden to shake before saying, "Please, Mr. Cake is my father. Call me Pound."
"Well then, Mr. Pound, welcome to our facility, or as we like to call it, the Breadbox!"
"Why do you call it that?"
"I have no idea," admitted the warden. "That's just what we call it."
Pound was already using his wings to hold a pencil and notepad, and he furiously scribbled down every word that was said.
'At least this guy's more easygoing than that guard outside,' he thought. He didn't know why, but he'd always felt more comfortable around people the happier and quirkier they were. His best guess would be that it might be because of the influence of his old foalsitter, who had always been cheerful, fun, and weird in all of the best ways. He couldn't remember much about her or her antics. He'd been far too young, but her personality had been imprinted deep into his memory.
He continued asking mundane questions about how the prison was run as the warden led him through a hallway lined with heavy metal doors on each side. They'd passed several already, but one caused the warden to shudder as he approached it. According to Cellblock, the other doors led to hallways containing many varying criminals in cells that could withstand the full brunt of a bugbear attack. Until the warden had shuddered, Pound had assumed this doorway would lead to the same.
"What's in there?" Pound asked, gesturing towards the door they were approaching.
The warden gulped before turning to face Pound.
"Your interview," he said.
