Author's Note

Hey, big content warning for this one before we get into it. This chapter'll have intense gore imagery at one point as well as themes of anti-black racism and reference to lynchings. If that makes you uncomfortable or the like, now is your chance to stop and find something that isn't as upsetting. Or if you wish to keep reading and still don't want to see the scene, scene four is where it all happens.

Hope you're able to enjoy this.

Shitskin

The darkness felt cold. The floor felt polished. Her body felt both light and heavy at the same time. There was nothing, and yet there was everything.

Pinkamena slowly opened her eyes, seeing the familiar tiling of the grocery store. It looked recently cleaned and polished, her reflection looking back at her as she slowly rose to her feet.

The lights of the grocery store were dimmed, the rows and rows of shelves casting long shadows across the floor. Aside from her footsteps, the only sound she could hear was the buzzing coming from the freezers and the lights.

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to massage out the soreness running through her. She felt disoriented with every step she took. The aisles she peered down seemed to stretch out to infinity, and the products that lined them were covered with indecipherable text.

She could see the doors to the freezer were open, inviting anyone to walk inside. They wanted someone to walk inside them, they wanted her to walk inside them.

She moved with caution. The cold air felt harsher than usual as it wrapped around her body. The fans and machines sounded like they were straining, the sounds of their churning and blowing echoing off the walls.

She walked past the huge cuts of beef and pork, hanging from their hooks. It was hard to notice at first glance, but she saw they were all swaying slightly from side to side.

She kept walking, going deeper and deeper in. From the freezer’s ceiling, she was bathed in the blue and white light from the buzzing bulbs giving her the appearance of a body frozen over.

Ahead of her, hanging from one of the hooks was a body. It was held up by a hook piercing through its arms, high above its head. The arms’ veins poked out from under the hook. It swung back and forth, head pointed down at the ground as if trying not to look at her. All she could do was stand and watch.

It was the corpse of a black woman, her body covered in large scars and gashes. Deep purple welts and bruises were mixing in with the rigor mortis running up and down her body. It seemed to be conniving in her stomach, bloated and covered in stretch marks.

Pinkie was unable to move from her spot. She watched as the corpse slowly raised its head to look at her, the eyes glazed over. She could hear the sounds of bones cracking and snapping as the corpse now looked her in the eyes.

“We don’t have hearts,” it said, the voice sounding sore and raspy. “That was what they always told us. We weren’t born of flesh and blood but of the dirt and shit of the Earth. Shitskins.”

Pinkie wanted to break her gaze, but couldn’t. “… Who used to say that.”

“Who didn’t, really? The children on the playground, the adults who watched us from a distance, the people we thought we knew. They all look at us, seeing us as nothing more than shitskins.”

“We’re not shitskins,” Pinkie replied. “We were born the same way just as everyone else. The people that say that kind of stuff-”

“They all think it, even if most of them don’t say it.” The corpse continued to glare at her. “We don’t have heartbeats, Pinkamena. We have only rot and filth in our chests.”

“I’m not thinking like that. I’m getting you down,” Pinkie replied, trying to get her off the hook. She wouldn’t budge.

“When they find out it was all you, it’s going to get worse,” the corpse said.

Pinkie took slow deep breaths before she pressed her nails into the corpse’s chest. Thick black liquid started to bubble out, dribbling down her knuckles and arms. It felt warm and syrupy. She pressed her hands in more, getting more fingers in before both of her hands were forced in. They felt warm, submerged in the black liquid.

“They see her as a shitskin too. But one that wants to be like them. They all love that. When we think we can ever be normal, like them. But it won’t last long. When they find out about you, they’ll look at her as well. And they’ll feast upon her.”

She was trying to ignore the words as she slowly started to wrench the chest apart and open. A blast of hot, rancid air hit her in the face. She quickly turned her head away, gagging and coughing from the putrid smell.

“You fear it. You fear getting caught. All the whispers and talks, all the side glances… they’re watching you. They’re catching on. And you don’t have much time left… do you?”

“I’m not getting caught. I’m smart. I’ve always been smart. The system works,” Pinkie responded as she opened the chest more. Half-decayed rotting organs and intestines started to pour out, slopping at her feet in a stinking sopping pile. The thick fluids covering her hand almost looked like a pair of black rubber gloves for a few seconds.

In the center of the corpse’s chest, a decaying black heart with bits of bone sticking out of it. Held in place by several strands of pink cooking twine. It did not beat.

“You can shorten your name, you can make your curls all big and laughable, you can make them sweets and cakes and let them laugh at you, but it won’t hold them. They’ll smell the blood you’re spilling and pounce.” She could see the corpse was sporting an all too familiar pink side cut as it grinned at her, lips tearing.

“They’ll find you… and that won’t be enough. They’ll need more to feast on. They’ll go to others that look just like you, they’re the ones ruining the world. They’re the ones making it worse for all the civilized folks. It’s all your fault, Diane.”

Pinkie felt something in her hand. She was gripping a knife. She squeezed it and cut at the twine, hearing the strands snap one after another. She ran her other hand through her hair, damp with sweat. It was flattened, falling down the side of her face, with only a few scattered curls remaining.

“Shitskins deserve nothing.” The corpse wouldn’t stop talking. She watched the skin on the corpse’s lips flaking and falling off. Pinkie grabbed the heart, hearing it squish in her palm. It was cold and mushy. “That’s what they all think about us. We deserve nothing, and we’re disposable.”

“Not we. Not we. I don’t know you, and I’m not disposable,” Pinkie lied, looking down at the heart. She squeezed it, feeling more of the thick black liquid pooling out between her fingers.

“I’m the end result. I’m what all of this leads to after generations and generations of build-up.” The thick black liquid was now running down the sides of the corpse’s mouth as she talked. “Tell me, how long do you think it’ll be until we get to this point? How much longer until you get sloppy and you feed the beast at the wrong moment? ”

Pinkamena tossed the remains of the crushed heart away. “There.You don’t keep going now, you can rest. You don’t have to worry about this shit anymore.”

Her corpse simply looked down at her. “How much longer till we join the rest?”

Pinkamena blinked, looking around again. The metal walls of the freezer were now replaced by hundreds of trees reaching high into the night sky. From the branches, corpses were strung up by their necks, bodies desecrated as they swung in the breeze.

“Who do you think they are?” Her corpse asked, pink twine now wrapped around her neck. “All the people we’ve killed? Or all those that came before us and all those that will come after because of how we’ve ruined everything?”

Pinkamena watched her own body hang. Sweat built up on her forehead. She started to dry heave as she gripped the knife. Something was rising, deep within. “We can’t escape it. We need to feed and spill. And we’re going to pull the one person that loved us under, because of it.”

Pinkamena felt something softly tap against the back of her head. As she turned to look, she saw purple heels swaying in the breeze. Above her was Rarity, adorned in the same dress from earlier in the night, pink twine wrapped around her neck. Her stomach and chest had been slashed wide open, her intestines and organs hanging out. A look of pure terror was frozen on her face, her cheeks streaked with tears.

“No… No no no…” Pinkamena muttered, tripping and falling back. She could feel tears welling up as she looked at her. Blood was dripping from Rarity’s eyes and mouth onto her heels, the ground, and Pinkamena’s face.

Suddenly, Rarity raised her head and looked directly at Pinkamena. “Pinkie…” she croaked. “W….what did you do…”

“Not you, not you, not you…” Pinkamena muttered, jumping to her feet and wrapping her arms around Rarity. She was still holding onto the knife. She pulled and tugged, continuing to dry heave as she tried to get the body down. Blood continued to drip onto her, dribbling through her hair and down her face. “Please oh please…”

“It’s like I told you…” She heard another voice echo through the trees. Nearby bushes started to rustle. Someone was approaching. She could feel her own heartbeat slamming against her chest.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Rainbow Dash shouted, bursting out from her left. She tackled Pinkamena to the ground, taking the knife. Rainbow Dash smiled as she pinned her. She glanced back at Pinkamena’s bloated corpse. “I’ll make sure that’s where you wind up,” she gloated, before stabbing the knife down.

Pinkamena tried to move out of the way, only for the knife to pierce her cheek. The pain was an endless searing heat, blood pooling up in her mouth and running down the side of her face and neck. She pushed and kicked, getting out a few wet, gurgling, animalistic cries.

Using a burst of energy she dug her knee into Rainbow Dash’s ribs, causing her to drop the knife and fall to the side. She quickly grabbed it, getting back on her feet and steadying herself. She launched a few more kicks into her ribs and chest. A twinge of euphoria ran through her as she heard the sounds of bones breaking and organs rupturing, alongside Rainbow’s groans. “No…no please… P-Pinkie… not again…”

Pinkamena slowly crouched down, meeting Rainbow Dash’s gaze. She watched as Rainbow tried to put her hands out and push her away. Her mouth slowly curled up into a grin, as she put the knife to Rainbow’s face. She made sure Rainbow had a clear look at her grin before she started to slash and stab. The cries of pain Rainbow let out were cut short as the knife eviscerated her.

Pinkamena kept going, slashing and cutting and impaling anything that her hands could reach. Even when Rainbow’s body stopped twitching, she continued at it. Her face still stung as blood ran down her cheek and filled her mouth, but she didn’t care. She was in control again. She was in bliss.

After some time, she pulled away and stood back up, looking down at Rainbow’s body. Her face was nearly unrecognizable, covered in lacerations. Blood was starting to pool around her, covering her body in a large puddle. She was a deer, struck by a predator and left to die.

Pinkamena let out a few breathy laughs, catching herself. For a few more seconds, she was lost in the rush of it all… and then it came crashing down. She looked at the corpse below, her body starting to tremble again. She could feel bile rising up in her chest as she started to glance around.

All of the corpses hanging from branches. They were all looking at her. Hundreds of unblinking eyes and unmoving faces, all looking at her. All watching her. All there because of her.

“Do you get it yet, Pinkamena?” Her own corpse called out. “The blood will always lead back to us. It’s always been because of us.”

Rarity’s corpse was looking at her again. “Pinkie… it’s always been you, hasn’t it? This is all because of you…”

Pinkamena Diane Pie could feel her heartbeat as she gripped her knife. Rotten, decaying flesh smashing against the inside of her chest. The stench of death and flesh stung her nose.

All because of her.