Author's Note

Here's my late Halloween entry. Enjoy.

"...With sprinkles..."

[Ponyville - Shrieffs' jailhouse - Mayor Mare POV.]

"And, you are sure she can't get out?" I asked nervously.

"You don't have to worry anymore, Mayor. We got the criminal more secure than Discord as a garden statue. But why go and see her now? She's getting arranged at Canterlot. The Princesses themselves will preside as judges. I say we clean our hooves of this whole mess and let the royals sort this psycho out." The sheriff said.

I am having trouble answering that myself. I felt myself tremble as I thought back to the atrocities committed; I just wanted to run home and have a good cry. "I've known that psycho since she was a filly. I-I at least want to know why she did all this!" The sheriff flinches back at my sharp tone, and I become reproachful. "I'm sorry. This entire situation is weighing heavily on my stress. I hadn't even had time to die my mane." I blew a strand of pink locks out of my eye.

"It's nothing, ma'am. I'd be lying if I didn't feel the same..."

The rest of our trot was silent as we reached the holding cells. For some reason, the lights flickered the closer we finally got to the cell. Two solar guard ponies stood steadfast outside the cell. They grip those spears tightly for any sign of trouble the prisoner may cause again. I grimaced at the sight. Our esteemed guest kept her head down as she sat on a chair. She didn't have any chains on her. There is no need as the runic circle around the prisoner would activate when she tried to move. The pony in front of me was practically unrecognizable. The ordinarily vibrant pink mane is still and straight with splotches of blood in it.

Those same splotches adorn that hideous and revolting outfit—some sick amalgamation of cutie marks torn off the flanks of the victims. Sweet Celestia, I can even recognize some from Ponies I regularly engage. And by the moon, the stench is as foul as a timber wolf's breath. But, just as monstrous is the collar made from different unicorn horns. I swallowed my fear - as well as my lunch - before moving close. I can see the subtle movement of her mouth despite a muzzle covering it. I squint my eyes from my position, but it is hard to make anything out. I steeled my resolve and went to speak—the words sounding less authoritative than when I would've liked.

"P-Pinkie Pie? It's me, Mayor Mare."

"..." Pinkie didn't say a word.

"Pinkie, what are you eating? You had your meal an hour ago." Again, there was more silence, only the soft munching slowly getting louder. I felt a growing unease listening to her chewing whatever was in her mouth. It is too harsh to be taffy and too far soft to be rock candy. It's chewy like gum, but there's more resilience to it. I finally had enough and turned to the sheriff. "Who gave her food? Princess Luna ordered that she wouldn't have any more food after the designated portion to prevent another escape attempt."

Pinkie had nearly gotten out of confinement while serving breakfast. It was only thanks to the shield provided by the royal guards on the building structure that she could not break down the front doors. The sheriff seems to pale at my question and hesitantly looks away. I level a stern glare at him, silently urging him to speak. The sheriff finally caved in with a heavy sigh. "During lunchtime, some guards tried to remove that little 'coat' Pinkie's wearing because of the smell. Pinkie lunged at them when they got too close to that darn collar. And..."

The sheriff gulped, and sweat began to fall from my brow. I looked at the two stationed guards and saw them shift uncomfortably. Nothing is supposed to make them break their composure like this. "And what?" I dared to ask.

"...Private Viglance, ma'am. She tore that guard's ear clean off! Blood was pouring from the wound, staining that fancy armor and white coat. They had to rush him to the emergency room for surgery. T-They weren't able to reattach it. We couldn't find the ear."

Once again, I felt the urge to vomit. Why did I have to have a big lunch today?! Those daffodil sandwiches were somersaulting in my belly. I dry-heaved into my hooves before the sheriff's wording made me pause, and a terrible realization hit me. "Where is his ear? Why couldn't you find it?"

"Hehe-ahhahaha!"

A laugh escapes from our side, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a hacking sound. Something wet and squishy strikes against my cheek before I instinctively go to wipe my right cheek. Something came off my face as I stared down in disbelief and horror. The guard's bloody and chewed-up ear rests against my hoof. We all face Pinkie. Her head was no longer looking down; instead, her blue eyes were now focused solely on me. I have seen Pinkie for years around Ponyville. You will never find a more cheerful mare anywhere else. Her smile alone can brighten the day of anypony out there without ever saying a word. It is a smile that Ponyville has come to enjoy and welcome. But now, I only want to get as far away from it as possible. Pinkie shouldn't be smiling. She can't be smiling! This smile is impossible because, somehow, the muzzle fell on the ground, revealing Pinkie's blood-stained teeth to the world.

"Hiya, Mayor Mare. Did you want to speak with me? I do have an appointment in Canterlot in a little bit. But, I can lend you an ear for now." Pinkie said in her saccharine voice

However, the composure I had held since coming to the jailhouse fell in this instant. I threw up the content of my stomach all over the floor. The severed ear landed in my bile and compounded the smell, making me puke further. The sheriff tried to console me, but I pushed him away and ran out of the jailhouse. I faintly heard the sheriff issuing new orders to restrain Pinkie fully. But I didn't care to listen. I only want to escape. As I returned to my office and locked the doors and windows, I realized I never got my questions answered. But, like I said, Pinkie's smiles speak volumes without ever uttering a word. And from what I saw, whatever that thing was in the jailhouse, it was not the filly I knew from the past.