The Cakes' Special Treats

Pinkie woke up to someone poking her. She kept her eyes shut to pretend the pony poking her was one of her sisters and not one of her foalnappers. Though the illusion was broken when he spoke.

“Little filly, wake up, I’ve got food.” He said in a gentle tone.

Pinkie opened her eyes to find a small bowl of veggies, and something covered in a towel. Her eyes drifted to the stallion. She forced down her fear, asking a few imperative questions.

“Hello sir, my name is Pinkie Pie, what’s your name?” she said in the most friendly and polite tone she could muster.

He smiled in a way that seemed almost friendly. “There’s no need for formalities, just call me Carnival, and my wife Wild Berry.”

“Is this my food?”

“Yeah.”

She went to lift the towel, but he stopped her.

He said, “Finish your veggies first, the other food is dessert.”

Pinkie moved to the bowl and hesitated. She looked at Carnival, then back to her food. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t realized until that moment how hungry she was.

“It’s not poisoned. If we wanted you dead, we would do it in a… more direct method,” Carnival said.

Pinkie’s instincts took over, and she ate. She finished her meal, but the meager amount of food did nothing to quell her hunger.

Carnival removed the towel to reveal a small slab of meat. It looked cooked to perfection, with just enough pink to be medium-rare. The juice leaked a red similar to blood. Pinkie’s eyes swelled and her breath caught in her throat, but she forced her fear back down. She needed answers.

“Is this meat?” She said, voice meek.

“If you take a bite, even a nibble, you can get more veggies,” he said, ignoring her question.

“Is that meat from a pony?” Pinkie asked, with more force. But he again ignored her question. Carnival moved away from Pinkie’s dim light. She heard hoof steps and the movement of equipment. After a minute, he came back with a chair. He sat and watched her.

“I won’t tell you anything about the meat until you take a bite,” he said sternly.

Pinkie looked around. Her eyes settled on the things Wild Berry brought in the day before. She hadn’t touched them yet, not wanting to act out of turn.

“Are the bag and the stuff mine, or is it just something that you guys put there to…” she trailed off, not liking where the sentence was going.

“It’s yours. You can have anything from the bag and even ask for anything else if you want it.”

Pinkie nodded, then said forcefully, “I’m not gonna eat that.”

Carnival asked again to confirm. After Pinkie repeated herself, he picked up the plate and ate the cube of meat. Much to Pinkie’s horror. Once he finished, he asked Pinkie, “How old are you?”

“I-I’m 10, where’s my luggage, I left it in the store, can I have it back?” Pinkie asked, gaining more courage after each word.

“I’ll look when I head back up. How d'you even get in here?”

“My Pinkie Sense told me, I can get weird little signs that tell me stuff. Like that one was an achy knee, floppy ear combo, which means something’s hidden. So I found the button came down… found Frame… and then I was captured…” She cried as she remembered the events from yesterday.

“Um, sorry about that. I’ve gotta get going. Bye Pinkie.” Carnival presumably put the chair away and walked out with the plates.

Pinkie wept, though it lasted slightly less than the night before. Once she stopped, she picked up a notebook and pencil and started recording all the information she could remember. So far, she knew she was under Sugarcube Corner; the ponies were murders. They were using pseudonyms, and they were married. She recorded their appearances, voices, cutie marks, and anything else she deemed important. Once she calmed down, she looked around for anything useful. She saw her confinement had a sink, a toilet, a mattress, and a pull chain light bulb. Her chain was hooked to the wall; which looked like it was concrete. The floors looked the same. The area outside of her light was almost pitch black, though she could make out the shape of the table they strapped Frame to.

Pinkie looked at her stuff and sifted around. After some time, she took out a puzzle. To Pinkie’s surprise, the sack was very thick and soft. She shoved everything off to free it. It turned out the sack was actually a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and started the puzzle.

A few pieces landed out of reach when she dumped out the box. Her chain prevented her from reaching them, so she relented to the fact her puzzle could forever be incomplete.

Pinkie was about halfway done with it when Carnival came down with food. She quickly stood up and looked at him. Though her fear only lasted for a second.

“How long has passed since you last came down here?” She shocked herself at how calm she was. Pinkie squinted at the clock, but it was too dark to see.

“10 hours. How have you entertained yourself?” Carnival asked, placing the veggies and meat on the ground.

“I’ve just been doing a puzzle. Do you think you could move the clock closer, I can’t see it in the dark,” she said, walking to the food.

She felt uneasy, not scared, just... uneasy. She knew Carnival would not kill her, so most of her fear left. Pinkie was just bored, but with Carnival here she had something to do.

She finished her veggies and refused the meat, then chatted. Before Carnival left, he moved the clock within sight of Pinkie.

When he left, Pinkie felt slightly sad, mostly because of the lack of company. She tried to complete her puzzle, but the pain in her stomach prevented her from doing so. She moved to her stuff, looking for anything to eat but couldn’t find anything.

'They’re gonna keep me here till I starve', she thought, flopping on her mattress, 'I guess I could just eat the meat… No, I’m not gonna do what they want. I’m not their toy.' She smiled, ignored the pain, and continued on her puzzle.