The Cakes' Special Treats

Pinkie was distracted. She had an hour to preserve Ivy’s cutie marks, but instead of doing that, she sat on the chair facing the table. “I hope one day I’ll be on there.”

She circled it, thinking aloud, “Maybe if I anger Cupcake enough, she’ll get sick of me and kill me. Or Carrot Cake will do it to make her happier.”

With a grim smile, she climbed onto the table and laid in a position similar to all their victims. Pinkie closed her eyes and imagined the nothingness that might accompany her death.

She chuckled, “Who am I kidding? I’m going to Tartarus. No void for me.”

She said, “This isn't what Papa thought would happen to me when I left. Mama was right to be worried.”

Pinkie frowned. “I’m never gonna see them again, am I? I might die before I can. They’ll assume I abandoned them, that I left as soon as I could because I hated the farm.”

“No. I will see them at least once,” she said, “That’s a promise, yeah it’s a Pinkie Promise.”

“Hmm, needs more oomph. I’ll say cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye? I’ve read that being used, but the whole point’s that I’m not gonna die yet, and sticking a needle in my eye wouldn’t do anything, so I’d need to change it.”

She hopped off the table. “So instead of die, I say, fly? Sure, and instead of sticking a needle in my eye, I’ll stick something else in it. I’d say cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a something in my eye.”

She shrugged. “Meh, it’ll work for now.”

Pinkie turned to Ivy’s cutie marks, then the clock. The Cakes were due to come down soon. She sighed, picked up the marks, and placed them in the pile of viscera to be discarded.

“I wish I had some friends,” Pinkie said.

“You spent all day playing with somepony. Was that not enough for you?”

Pinkie jumped at the unexpected response. Cupcake was standing at the base of the stairs.

“We both know she wasn’t really my friend,” Pinkie said, mood souring immediately.

“It is the closest thing you will get for a while.”

Those words didn’t sit right with her. ‘For a while.’

“Wait?” she exclaimed. “Are you pregnant?”

“What? No.”

“Are you gonna foalnap another filly then? I wanna help corrupt her.”

Mrs. Cake looked sad. “We’d never go out of our way to foalnap and keep a foal. You were,” she paused, “I won’t call it a happy accident because that would only downplay what we did and the trauma associated with it. We foalnapped you because you stumbled into the basement while we had a pony there.” She paused again. “That and I was curious.”

“That feels like it was a lifetime ago,” Pinkie said. “Frame Fitter was nice.”

Cupcake still looked sad. “I am sorry we foalnapped you. I was curious how long you would survive and then you kept surviving. Around the time we allowed you to shower, Carrot almost convinced me to kill you, but we grew too attached. You became interested in murder, and the rest is history.”

“He should’ve tried harder,” Pinkie said under her breath. “No, stop saying that, you promised.”

“Promised what?” Cupcake asked.

Pinkie didn’t mean to say the second part so loud. “I promised myself I wouldn’t commit suicide until I see my family at least once.”

Cupcake let out a ‘hmm.’ She then said, “Well, as long as you're committed to living, how about you come upstairs and eat so you can stay that way?”

Pinkie followed Mrs. Cake up the stairs when she paused. “Oh, I almost forgot! We’re out of that one Everfree herb that causes adrenaline. I used the last with Ivy Vine. We were out of the shot mixture, so I shoved the last of the leaves in her mouth.”

She didn’t get a response, but Cupcake stopped to pull a planner out of her apron pocket and write something.

Mrs. Cake led Pinkie to the kitchen, where she picked up a plate of nachos. They must have had leftovers from yesterday.

Mrs. Cake gave Pinkie her food in her room, then waited for her to finish. Once done, she took the plate, locked the door, and left Pinkie alone.

Pinkie listened to the retreating hoofsteps, then ran to the window. There were many ponies in the closing market. All different types: unicorn, pegasi, earth ponies.

There was a red colt pulling an empty cart on one side of the street, and a white unicorn filly with her dad on the other. In the middle stood a pegasus filly that looked very familiar.

“Oh, it’s Mountain Hue. She looks so much older,” she paused as Mountain Hue walked down the street, “Is she limping?”

Pinkie inspected her further, and she was. Hue was missing a front leg, and in its place was a prosthetic, and one of her wings was mangled. It looked like an old injury.

“What’d you expecting when you hang out in the Everfree?” Pinkie said with a smirk.

“I shouldn’t say that,” she frowned. “She was my first-ever friend, and I can’t even muster up any sympathy for her?”

Pinkie watched Mountain Hue until she turned a corner and left Pinkie’s view.

“Bye Hue,” she whispered.

She walked to her mattress and laid down, but she wasn’t tired yet. She picked a puzzle to start, one that had all its pieces. The puzzle she chose was one she had completed dozens of times, a picture of the deep ocean, that was almost entirely black. It always took her ages to finish, exactly what she wanted, something to distract her until she fell asleep. She dumped the pieces next to the window and watched the ponies as she completed the puzzle.

An hour later, when there were no more ponies to watch out the window, Pinkie turned all her attention to the puzzle. At least she tried, but somepony opened her bedroom door.

Mrs. Cake walked through, holding a plate with three of Pinkie’s muffins on it.

“You never got to try your muffins, did you?” Cupcake asked.

Pinkie shied back, “No, I didn’t. Is it okay that I went to the first floor? Carrot Cake said it was okay, but I’m sorry if I wasn’t. I’m not trying to disobey you, honest.”

“Pinkie, Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake yelled, cutting off Pinkie’s apologies, “It’s alright, you can go downstairs if we invite you. When we were laying out the rules, we should have told you, but yes, if Carrot or I invite you downstairs, you can. Don’t leave our sight and it’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” Pinkie said. She turned her attention to the muffins and grabbed one.

These were great. We could improve them with some aragonite sand, but most ponies would disagree.

“You did a great job,” Mrs. Cake said. “We could have sold them in the shop if you made a bigger batch.”

In between bites, Pinkie asked, “Hey, do you know a filly named Mountain Hue?”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure. She’s a pegasus that was hurt in the Everfree a while ago. Why?”

“She was my first ever friend outside my family and I saw her out the window looking all messed up.”

“I don’t know many details, only it happened... around eight months after you were captured.” Mrs. Cake said.

Pinkie finished the first muffin and grabbed the second. “Wow, she healed fast. Her wing and leg looked great, and she was even putting weight on her prosthetic.”

“Yeah, she healed pretty well.” Mrs. Cake said, looking away.

“You okay?” Pinkie asked, halfway through her second muffin.

“I’m just shaken up, that’s all. The Everfree is dangerous, and our conversation about Mountain Hue, and Pear Butter, and Bright Mac’s deaths a year ago made me even more aware of it.”

“Why don’t you foalnap ponies straight out of their homes or something? Why go into the Everfree to get them when it’s super dangerous?” Pinkie finished her second muffin, then she shoved the third into her mane for later.

“Because we need to keep a low profile, you silly filly,” Cupcake said, “The extra risk is worth it if it means ponies still think monsters were getting them for all these years instead of a foalnapping family. And besides, Mountain Hue is proof that sometimes the monsters are the ones that hurt ponies.”

Cupcake walked to the door after taking the plate. “See you later, Pinkie.”