Sanguine Joy

Chapter 9: The Confrontation

The water pouring on his head woke Scisco. At first, he didn’t know where he was, so when he found out that he was strapped to an unfamiliar bed, he began screaming. However, the gag in his mouth, which he only now realised he had, muffled every sound he made and changed it into an inarticulate mess.

“Now, now,” a white-coated mare with purple mane said. “There is no need for screaming. Just tell me what I want to know and you are free to go.”

The memories of last night floated into his mind, and the realisation hit him with the strength of an oncoming train. He was a fool to underestimate his injury and an even bigger fool to think money could buy the silence of the locals. Their relatives and neighbours were being butchered every day, so when a pony with cutie mark like his appeared, they were likely to take ‘justice’ in their own hooves. After all, of what use were bits to a corpse?

The mare in front of him probably jumped at the chance to have somepony to blame – to take out her anger on him – since the Royal Guard didn’t seem to make any progress. That, however, didn’t mean Scisco was going to down without a fight. He started thrashing around, causing the bed under him to creak in protest. Maybe, just maybe, if he continued doing this, the bed could... No. He did two hump-like moves, but then the ravenous pain from his numerous wounds reached his brain. His chest felt like it was on fire and his legs like somepony was turning a knife in them. The moment he shifted his attention on something that didn’t hurt, the pain appeared there too. After that, he lay still and prayed to Celestia, Luna, and even Cadence to end his anguish. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, filling their corners. It was not within one pony’s strength to stop them under these circumstances, no matter how hard he tried – seeing him cry was probably exactly what she wanted, he’d wager, and it seemed like she’d get that wish fulfilled.

The mare was saying something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He was too focused on not moving a single muscle in his body, for that would mean even larger amounts of searing pain, if it was even possible. He only focused on her when she removed the gag.

“Aaaagh!” he screamed, his eyes momentarily squeezed tight shut.“Help me or I’ll kill you! What in Celestia’s name did you do to make it hurt so much? I’m going to butcher you, your family, and your family’s family! Ponies will tell tales about how bloody and painful your end was for generations to come! I’m going to– mmmmpfh!”

The gag was back in his mouth, and the mare pressed on a large wound on his chest. Before, his thorax felt like it was on fire, but now it was covered with magma. His universe shrank down to the little point where she applied pressure, and it was impossible to think about anything other than pleading for mercy. When she finally lifted her hoof, the agony that only lasted for a few seconds, but felt like centuries, was replaced with relief. Calming himself a bit and focusing on what the mare had to say, he knew full well that any sign of provocation would be punished.

“How about a bit of gratitude?” the mare said, extending her hoof in front of herself and taking a long moment to inspect it. “I saved your life, after all. Or do you think that your wounds closed on their own? You would have bled to death without me.”

His injuries certainly hurt, yet there was no blood on the bed. Perhaps he was wrong about her and she just wanted to help. But that wouldn’t explain the straps. She only wanted to prolong his suffering, that wretched thing!

“Mmmmpfh!”

“I’ll remove the gag,” she said, wearing a smug grin on her face, “but you have to be quiet and only speak when asked, understood?”

Scisco nodded and she removed the gag again, throwing it away quickly with an ‘Ewww’ after accidentally touching the saliva on it. She sat next to him on the bed and asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m detective Scisco, the pony sent to investigate the string of murders in Ponyville. You’d better let me go!”

Rarity smiled, and ‘accidentally’ put her hoof on one of his injuries. “Oops, did that hurt? I’m sorry, my hooves act on their own when somepony lies to me.”

“I’m not lying, damn it!”

“Then why did a respected detective like yourself come to my boutique in the middle of the night, covered in blood?”

Scisco licked his lips and stared into her azure eyes. He knew she wasn’t going to believe him – damn, he wouldn’t believe himself in her position. “I was attacked...”

“So you decided buying a new suit comes before treating your wounds? That doesn’t sound likely. But trying to hide who you are does. Tell me, ‘Detective’, what kind of investigator has a cutie mark of an inmate?”

Scisco’s face turned red. “It means that I’m good at sending other ponies into prison, not myself! But you don’t believe me, do you? You think that I’m the killer, don’t you? Well go ahead and do your ‘justice’. Kill me, if you have the stomach to do it and stop wasting my time!”

The mare was biting her lip, staring at him. Scisco wasn’t afraid. He knew this type of pony: big words, but nothing to back them. She didn’t have it in her to kill him, he saw it in her eyes, although it didn’t seem to prevent her from hurting him. Wench!

“How about you tell me how you got injured, ‘Detective’? While I don’t want to end your miserable life just yet, it doesn’t mean that I will hesitate making it painful. Answer truthfully, or you’ll regret it!” she said, slowly laying her hoof on his chest.

“I was attacked...”

“Where?”

Let me finish the sentence, whore!

“At Cherry Berry’s house. There was a – I can’t believe I’m saying it – a vampony. I managed to shoot the prick in the chest, but the bugger kept attacking! I jumped through the window, which caused all the wounds. Happy? Will you let me go now?”

She appeared to be lost in thought, muttering something under her breath. After about a minute, she looked sharply at Scisco and said, “I’m going to check if your story holds any truth. Wait here.”

“Like I’m going anywhere,” Scisco said, and watched her as she left the room.

He had been pushing the pain out of his mind while she was still there, but now it started to seep back like an angry beast intent on eating him alive. He was smart enough not to move too much, but that didn’t help: while it didn’t hurt as much as if he moved, the pain was ever present, not granting him a second of peace. He tried getting out of the straps by force, but the agony it caused quickly dispelled any thoughts about escaping he had, before they even took a concrete form.

He was screaming like a wounded animal by the time she came back, throwing in a curse occasionally. She proceeded towards the bed and started to untie him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Letting you go. There were guards everywhere around Cherry’s house, informing me that Cherry was murdered last night, and when I asked them about what detective Scisco looks like, they gave me your description.”

Wait, what? He was convinced that he’d stay imprisoned in this room for many days, until somepony commenced a sweep of the town in search for him. Yet it seemed like his stay wouldn’t be so long after all!

“Aren’t you concerned that I’ll arrest you for holding me here against my will?”

She stopped for a few seconds, stroking her chin, but then continued untying his left hoof. “I expect some gratitude for saving your life. Surely a strong stallion like yourself can endure a little pain, no?”

Little? It feels like a hundred red-hot pointy needles are piercing my body right now!

“Certainly. Pain is not a factor for somepony like me. All that screaming was just for effect,” he said in a confident tone, smiling.

She returned the smile as the last knot unravelled. “What have you discovered so far, if I may ask as your saviour.”

It is true that she saved me... Forgive and forget, I guess. But that makes us even, no more favours!

He sat up, clenching his teeth when another surge of agony went through his body. “I am grateful for your help, but everything concerning the case is classified.”

She frowned, but then a smiled appeared on her face, like a sun appearing from behind the clouds. “How about I trade the evidence I have for the evidence you have?”

“Withholding evidence is a crime,” he said with a stern face.

“Oh don’t be like that, darling; I’m trying to help!”

Scisco stayed silent for a few seconds, furrowing his brow. He could just order the Guard to turn her house upside down and take the evidence, but that would take time and the town’s already angry inhabitants would grow even more hostile.

“Alright, I accept. Our evidence is... the murderer is a vampony. And that’s about it.”

The mare’s eyes widened as if he’d just said that two plus two equals eight. “You can’t be serious! That is all? Five dead bodies, and all you know is that it’s a vampony? Are you sure you are really a detective?”

“Look, lady, we are doing everything we can! Maybe if ponies like you didn’t hide all the evidence, we would have caught the murderer by now! Now fulfil your part of the deal and tell me what you’ve got!”

She raised her hoof and aimed it at his face, but then took a deep breath, lowered it, and said, “I know that Caramel was murdered by a stallion that was dressed in black at around 3 o’clock in the morning. My friend caught him in the act, so he made a few threats and ran away.”

Scsico’s brows furrowed again, and his face reddened. “Look, if you’re trying to feed me horse crap then you’re wasting your time! A murderer like this would never have let your friend get away and wouldn’t have returned later to hide the body. Also, 3 o’clock? I know for a fact that a night patrol walked through that very street at 3:30, and that their drunken shouts woke a really angry stallion, who, according to the complaint he filled, argued with them up until 5 o’clock. So, unless the murderer returned to the body just a few minutes after being disturbed, he didn’t have a chance to hide it, since at 5 o’clock, various merchants set up their stands and move towards the market through pretty much every street in the town. And he didn’t return so soon, believe me; he’d wait to see whether your friend decided to call the Guard after all.”

Throughout his whole speech, she stared at him with her mouth open. Then, she sat heavily on a chair, holding her head with her hooves. “B– but... she wouldn’t... why would she lie?”

“I don’t care; maybe she was just being interesting. Now, is that all you have?”

She shakily got up and went to the next room. After a while she returned, holding a yellow hair. “I found this next to the murdered guard.”

Scisco took it from her and examined it closely, ignoring the thought that kept pressing itself into his mind: how did she get to the scene when he couldn’t? The hair was rather short, probably from the coat rather than mane, but that was all his investigative eyes could find. “That doesn’t narrow it down much... Are you even sure it was from the killer, and not just something that wind carried there?”

“It was caught in a crack between the tiles, stuck there. Somepony had to slide on them with their flank for that to happen. And since the guard had nothing yellow on him, it had to be the killer who decided to slide on the ground and bypass guard’s spear from below.”

Scisco nodded. “Not bad, not bad at all. That is almost close to something that vaguely resembles a professional deduction. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and catch the murderer.” He stood up from the bed.

At that moment the world started to spin, and Scisco fell to the ground. His body was in a maelstrom of pain, and his muscles felt weak – like that of a baby foal. He looked around the room, but it took near half a minute for it to stop spinning enough for him to focus on her. Did she poison him while he was asleep?

She hurried over to him, and helped him up. “You lost too much blood... I’ll get you to a doctor.”

She threw his hoof over her neck and supported him as they walked downstairs and then out of the boutique. Ever since the first murder, Greenleaf kept increasing the number of guards in the streets, Scisco remembered, so a guard stood on nearly every corner now. One such guard took him to the barracks’ infirmary right after taking him off the mare’s hooves. Scisco didn’t even ask her name...

He remembered how he got to the barracks only vaguely and thanked Celestia for not passing out. That would make him look weak, and he couldn’t afford to look weak at a time like this.

———

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the little gaps between planks on the windows. All the furniture was either blocking the door, or was broken down to pieces and used for barricading the windows. Pinkie Pie was sitting in the middle of the room holding her legs, rocking back and forth, crying, and humming the ‘Giggle at the Ghosties’ melody.

She felt terrible – not only did she make Rarity angry, but she also lied to her! She, who was so upset several days back when they didn’t inform her about a secret birthday party, lied to one of her best friends! It was nothing compared to all the murders that followed, but this was the point where she looked back and realised what she had been doing. The things she did were inexcusable, and the pony she was just a few days ago would be disgusted if she saw her now.

Was she even still Pinkie Pie? Pinkie Pie was a joyful bag of happiness that could always brighten up everypony’s day. She had a bright pink coat and a puffy mane, always wore a wide smile, and her eyes shone with some sort of inner joy. And there was nothing, nothing, more important to her than her friends.

The pony calling herself Pinkie Pie now was depressed, snappy, and proficient at ruining everypony’s day. Or life, for that matter. Her unwashed coat was filled with dust and sweat, and it no longer bore the bright pastel pink colour. That colour left together with her happiness and only dark pink sorrow and regret remained behind. Her mane was getting straighter and straighter over time as her silliness and crazy antics were being replaced by cold reason, which was so beloved by the ‘Evil Voice’. It was straight like a ruler now. Not even her eyes remained the pools of happiness and energy like they used to be. While they still had their light blue colour, there was no life in them – like the eyes of a corpse.

And now she had lied to her friend. She refused to believe that this is Pinkie Pie; it couldn’t be! She didn’t look like her, didn’t act like her, and didn’t even think like her anymore. This was a stranger, a mocking caricature of the pony known as Pinkie Pie. It was she, yet it wasn’t.

She barricaded herself in her room after the ‘discussion’ she had with Rarity yesterday morning, intent on never leaving the room ever again. It was better if she died of starvation than to feed on or kill anypony else. The Cakes were worried about her – they came banging on the door about a dozen times already – but they couldn’t get in. They probably hoped that she’ll come out on her own after some time. How naive.

The tears she had shed were already dry, leaving a little white layer of salt after them. Even the end of her crying had been a lie; she didn’t feel any better, the emotion had not waned, she just began to feel dead inside. Nopony had ever told her that dying would be so boring. It takes about a month for a vampony to feel the sting of hunger, so she fully expected to go insane first. Not that it mattered – she locked herself in here and wouldn’t be getting out.

She heard some voices from downstairs and pressed her ear on the floor so that she could hear better.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Cake said, “but Pinkie Pie is upstairs and wants to be alone right now. It will be for the best if you stop by at another time,”

“I think she’ll welcome my company. And what she wants is irrelevant to our discussion,” Rarity said, and Pinkie Pie went pale.

“And what are you going to discuss?” Mr. Cake asked.

“That is private. But I promise that after our little chat, Pinkie will come out of her room.”

“Well go ahead, but we’ve already tried everything.”

“Oh, don’t worry; I’m sure you didn’t try doing what I have in mind. Our chat is of a personal nature, though, and there could be some shouting. Perhaps it would be better if you took a little stroll, don’t you think?”

No. No! Don’t go away! She found out that I lied and will do something terrible to me!

You are a vampony, remember? You are strong.

Shut up. I didn’t ask for your opinion.

“Perhaps it would be for the best. You are her friend after all, and friends can sometimes do what parents can’t,” Mrs. Cake said, and, judging from the sound of door bell and their hooves, left the bakery together with her husband.

“Yes...” Rarity said to an empty room. “Friends...”

Soon, her hoofsteps echoed up the creaky staircase and with each step, Pinkie’s heart skipped a beat. She was cowering in a corner, breathing rapidly, and waiting for the door handle to move. Rarity shouldn’t be able to get in – the door was locked and blocked by a closet. But that wasn’t important. Pinkie was afraid of words rather than blows.

The door handle moved. “Pinkie, be a dear and open the door, please.”

Pinkie sat still, not moving a muscle. Maybe Rarity will leave if nopony answers her.

“Pinkie, open the door!”

“N– no! Go away! I want to be alone!”

The door shook as Rarity yanked the door handle. “Open the door, or I’ll open it myself, you lying filth!”

Somehow, finding even more water to spill out of her eyes, Pinkie started crying again. “I had to! I couldn’t tell you the truth!”

“So you admit it!” Rarity shouted, tearing the lock out of the door with her magic. The closet was still pressing the unlocked door shut, however.

“Stop! I’ll tell you the truth!”

“Really? Out with it! And don’t you dare feed me any more lies!” Rarity said from behind the door.

Pinkie was now shaking and felt the cold grasp of fear around her heart. This was it! The moment of truth! “You won’t believe me, but... but I’m a... a... a vampony!”

The closet exploded into thousands of little wooden splinters. Rarity marched towards Pinkie, her eyes looking unlike anything Pinkie had ever seen. She could see her death in them. “H– how...?”

“How did I do that? Why, you should be the one who knows best!” Rarity grabbed Pinkie by the throat and pressed her against a wall. “You are the one with most experience here, no?” she said, and opened her mouth, showing two long fangs protruding from her upper jaw.

Give me control or we’re done for! Quick!

Pinkie felt the familiar tugging at her mind and willingly retreated into the background, becoming a spectator. Evil Voice, now in control of Pinkie Pie’s body, hit Rarity in her belly, loosening her grasp.

“You fiend!” Rarity said, tearing a large wooden plank from the barricaded window with her magic. She then hit Pinkie Pie in the side with it, using such force that the plank broke. “That was for Caramel!”

Pinkie managed to keep her stance, but the blow had harsh consequences – a broken rib, as Evil Voice informed her. The pain was overwhelming, but it was the Voice that felt it, not Pinkie. “Such strength... Tell me, who did you kill to get it?” She dodged Rarity’s next blow by rolling to the right and punched her into the side, sending her flying towards a wall. Rarity’s impact was accompanied by a sickening crunch.

Wincing in pain, Rarity got up, levitated the remains of the once sturdy closet from the ground, and sent them in Pinkie Pie’s direction. “It was your fault that Berry died, not mine! You forced me to do it!”

Pinkie somersaulted over the majority of splinters, but some of them still managed to hit her hind leg, turning it into a spiky, bloody mess. “Nopony forced you to do anything! It was all your own will. I bet it felt good when the last sparkles of life in her eyes died! Tell me, was she juicy like the grapes she had on her behind?” Pinkie leapt at Rarity, ignoring the pain in her injured leg.

Rarity stepped to the side and let Pinkie Pie fly by and crash into the wall head-first. She then stomped on Pinkie’s injured leg, breaking it below the knee. “This is for the guard you killed!”

Howling in pain, Pinkie avoided Rarity’s next strike with a barrel roll, which landed harmlessly on the floor. “It was quite smart, tying a boulder around her neck so that nopony could find her. Too bad getting rid of the guilt isn’t as easy as getting rid of the body. I heard her little sister needed a psychologist after seeing her waterlogged corpse.”

Pinkie threw a large, pointy splinter with all the strength she could muster at Rarity.

Rarity jumped to the side, but was too slow, and the splinter pierced her right thigh. She let out an ear-piercing shriek, and enveloped Pinkie in her magic, sending her flying towards the wall. “Shut your mouth! You’re going to pay for what you did to Cloudchaser!”

Turning face-first towards the wall, Pinkie protected her spine, but at a great cost. The impact shook the whole house and the ribs that remained undamaged could be counted on the claws of Spike’s hand. “After I’m done with you, I’ll bring your mutilated corpse to Sweetie Belle to see the look in her eyes before I pluck off her horn and gut her with it!” she said through clenched teeth.

Rarity gave a guttural roar and ran towards Pinkie Pie, seemingly unaware of the destroyed thigh that tore a little more every time she made a step. She knocked Pinkie Pie down and held her by the neck, strangling her.

Seems like this is it. I would be lying if I said that it was a pleasure being with you. You know what? I’ll give you back control – being choked is not pleasant and I want no more of it.

When she regained her senses, she felt the lack of oxygen clouding her mind and the pressure on her throat creating a bruise. “Mer...cy.”

“Mercy? Like the mercy you gave Cherry Berry last night? Yes, I’ll give you the same kind of mercy!”

“But I... I didn’t... Cherry is dead?” Pinkie said with the last remains of breath, feeling the icy claw of death encroaching on her.

At that moment, Rarity loosened her grasp. Not completely – just enough to give Pinkie a little breathing space. She stared at her wide eyed and blinking, before she asked, “What did you say?”

Wheezing like punctured bellows, Pinkie replied, “I couldn’t have killed her. I locked myself in here yesterday morning!”

“Which means...”

“I’m not the killer, Rarity.”