It was a pleasant, sunny Wednesday afternoon when Rarity decided she would kill her friend, Fluttershy. A vial of poison would do, secreted in a cup of wine and offered to her as a friendly toast. The poor dear would close her eyes, believing herself sleepy, and die never knowing the black hatred for her that burned in her best friend's heart.
It would be for the best, of that Rarity was certain. No more generous gift could she think of than to let the mare drift off still believing that her friend loved her like a sister. It would shatter Fluttershy to learn the ugly truth, to learn that she was despised and reviled by one she held so dear.
The image of anguish she imagined crossing that delicate yellow face was so delicious that Rarity wished to march right up to that dreadful cottage and speak the words to her, just to see it happen. But she would not. Rarity was not a cruel pony, and therefore she resolved to put an end to this whole affair before the risk of losing her self-control became too great.
Poison was a rare commodity in Equestria. Ponies had very little use for things meant only as a means of killing. There was evidence enough of that in the fact that the Royal Guard were all well-armored but only a few of them bore arms. An average pony would have needed to go to rather unsavory lengths to procure the substance Rarity sought.
But fortune was with Rarity, for she was friends with the local librarian, who had a hidden section of her library dedicated to the forbidden arts. Simply demanding access to this section would not have worked, of course. However, Twilight was a wonderfully naive darling, and it was simplicity itself to explain to her that the leather-bound alchemy manuscript that detailed a few of the deadlier poisons known to ponykind also contained a recipe for a rich maroon dye that she could not get anywhere else. It was even true, and Rarity had to wonder what kind of life the author of such a tome must have led.
The shopkeepers in the marketplace were as friendly as ever, eagerly—if unknowingly—assisting her in her quest for the reagents she would need. Rarity was surprised to learn just how many ingredients she already possessed in her makeup drawer, and decided she would consider changing brands when she had the opportunity. There was one ingredient—a critical one, not one to mask the flavor or keep the consistency even—that Rarity could not get on her own. Venom from the fangs of a brown Thistleweaver spider was not a thing sold in the markets of Ponyville.
But there was one pony who could get it for her. Oh, the irony of it was too delicious. Fluttershy made gentle hushing noises as she coaxed the little brown arachnid from its web, gently milking the precious toxin into a tiny glass vial and thanking it for its cooperation. Fluttershy smiled as she handed the key to her doom to Rarity. “Will you show me the fabric once it's dyed?” she asked, full of innocence.
Rarity buried her contempt beneath a broad smile. “Of course, darling. If you want to come to the Boutique Friday night, I am sure it will be ready by then.”
“I'll be there,” the pegasus replied. “Is eight thirty all right?”
“That sounds lovely. I'll have a glass of wine ready for you and we can admire it together.”
And it was over. Rarity left the cottage, silently congratulating herself for not retching with every dull word she shared with her feathered friend. A lesser pony would have given herself away, let her lips curl in disgust when the object of her hatred had thrown her wings around her in a greeting hug, or let her bile slip into the tone of her voice during the interminably dull conversation. Not Rarity. She had smiled sweet as a chocolate-dipped cherry, and practically sang every word she spoke to the mare. Fluttershy would never suspect Rarity, even upon her last breath.
*-*-*
The next day was spent locked in her shop, brewing her deadly concoction. The process was difficult, messy, and dangerous. Twice Rarity nearly did herself in by allowing her muzzle to drift too near the noxious vapors that rose from the vile, hissing substance. Matters were not helped by the fact that Rarity had decided to mix the maroon dye at the same time in order to provide herself with an alibi. She had to open every window in the boutique in order to avoid being strangled by the collective fumes.
Rarity considered acquiring the assistance of Zecora in mixing the poison, but thought better of it. While the zebra's knowledge of alchemy would undoubtedly be useful, her intuition was too keen. Zecora would recognize the poison when she saw the ingredients, and Rarity did not believe she could deceive her about the substance's true purpose. She risked making the poison come out wrong, but Rarity would have to mix it herself.
But by the end of Friday she had a glass vial, as long as her hoof was wide and a third of that distance across its widest point, filled with a murky black fluid. She wished she could test it, to be certain of its potency, but the spills and do-overs of her amateur venture into alchemy had left her with only one dose. She would just have to trust that she had gotten it right. If it doesn't work, she thought to herself, holding the liquid up to the light of the setting sun, I suppose I do have a knife in the kitchen. She disliked the thought of resorting to such brutish methods, but she would do what she had to.
Rarity watched the last rays of sunlight fade over the horizon. She had appointed her meeting with Fluttershy in the evening on purpose. Under the cover of darkness, it would be much easier to dispose of the body.
The body. Rarity had expected to feel a wave of revulsion at the thought of referring to her friend as a body. As she let the word slide through her head, she felt... nothing. No sick knot in her stomach, no stab of remorse, nothing. Just a clinical, factual term. Like a note in one of her dress patterns. Step one, pin pattern to fabric. Step two, cut. Step three, discard scraps.
Perhaps I am mad, she mused, rolling the vial across her windowsill. Rarity shook her head. Mad or not, she would have justice. She would bury the body in Froggy Bottom Bog. Given Fluttershy's reclusive nature, it would likely be a week or more before anypony noticed she was missing. By the time they found her remains, if they ever did, the most reasonable conclusion would be that she had suffered a tragic accident while assisting the fauna in the fetid swamp. If any piece of evidence ever led back to Rarity, it would not surface until she was too old to care about her fate anymore.
Fluttershy would arrive before too long. Rarity pushed all distractions from her head as she cleaned the main floor of her home. Some of the stains from her alchemy venture were permanent, but a well-placed rug and a tasteful checkered tablecloth were sufficient to hide the evidence of her activities. Two crystal wine goblets, recent gifts from Cadance and her husband following the re-emergence of the Crystal empire, were set out on top of the cloth.
Rarity pulled the finest wine she owned from her wine rack. She would not send off any pony, not even one she detested, to the afterlife with cheap boxed wine in their gut. It was an old 953 vintage that Berry Punch had sold her on one of the days Rarity had felt especially wealthy. Rarity grinned ruefully at the bottle. She had not felt that way in a long while.
As a final touch, Rarity hung her freshly-dyed fabric across three display stands opposite the room from her dining table, where she and Fluttershy could admire it from their seats. In the failing light of the evening, the maroon looked closer to a deep blood-red. Rarity tapped her hoof upon her chin, studying her craft. Perhaps the dye was not so out of place in that old manuscript after all.
Rarity was still enthralled with the dark fabric when Fluttershy's hoof knocked against the door, snapping her out of her reverie. “I'll be there in just a moment!” she called, uncorking the bottle of wine. Both glasses filled with a red color that was unarguably brighter and more full of life than that of the fabric draped across the room. Glancing over her shoulder at the door, Rarity emptied her little glass vial into the leftmost glass, hiding the empty container in a drawer in her sewing desk when she was done.
“So sorry to keep you waiting, dear,” Rarity said as she pulled the door open. “I had to make certain everything was perfect.”
Fluttershy smiled sweetly as she stepped inside. “I'm sure everything is perfect,” she said, gingerly wiping her hooves on the welcome mat. Her muzzle wrinkled as the inside air reached her. “Oh my, well, um, almost everything.”
Rarity laughed. “Oh, the smell! I'm sorry, that's part of the dyeing process! I'll admit, I got used to it and completely forgot about it until now! It won't be too much for you, I hope? The fabric is still a bit too delicate to take outside.”
“Oh, it's fine, Rarity,” Fluttershy said. “It isn't too bad.”
“You let me know if you change your mind, dear,” Rarity said as she led Fluttershy to the dining table. Rarity sat on the right side of the table while the pegasus sat on the left.
Fluttershy's eyes widened as she examined the label on the wine. “Rarity!” she squeaked. “I can't drink this! This is your Prench Cabernet!”
“Oh come now,” Rarity said, levitating her own glass in her telekinetic grip. “I can treat my friends once in a while, can't I?”
Fluttershy backed away from the bottle as though it would bite her. “Rarity, that bottle is worth half the price of my house! I-I can't accept this!”
Rarity's eye twitched. “You can and you will, darling. The bottle is already opened, so all you can do is drink or let good wine go to waste.” She tapped her hoof impatiently on the table. “Besides, I didn't bring you here to argue about wine. Look, the fabric is finished!”
Fluttershy slowly, hesitantly took her eyes off the bottle and let them rest on the rich maroon cloth across the room. She took a small breath. “Oh, Rarity, it's beautiful!” The pegasus fluttered away from the table to get a closer look. The fabric ran between her yellow hooves. “I've never seen this color so deep before! What do you think you'll make with it?”
A burial shroud, thought Rarity privately to herself. She smirked. “I haven't quite decided yet.”
“I'm sure it's going to be amazing, whatever you make!” Fluttershy flapped her wings as she admired the fabric.
“I shall try my best,” promised Rarity. She cleared her throat and nodded her head to the two full wineglasses. “Now then, would you be a good guest and join me in a toast?”
Fluttershy's wings folded back against her body. “Oh. Okay, Rarity, if you insist.” She walked back to her place at the table and took her glass between her hooves.
“I do insist, darling.” A grin spread across Rarity's lips. This was it. This was the moment she would receive her just rewards. It was all she could do to stop herself from cackling madly right then and there. Rarity stared into Fluttershy's large turquoise eyes for the last time. Soon she would be rid of her forever. She raised her glass, and Fluttershy did the same. “To—yeoww!”
Pain shot up the unicorn's rear leg as Rarity's cat Opalescence dug her claws into it, hissing and spitting. “Opal!” Rarity shouted.
“Oh my,” Fluttershy said, setting her glass back down on the table. “Opal, that isn't very nice!”
Rarity stood up, grimacing as she used her magic to wrench the cat off of her leg and suspend her in the air. “Would you excuse me?” she said through gritted teeth. “I think a kitty has just earned herself a time-out.”
“Don't be too hard on her,” Fluttershy pleaded. “She just wanted a bit of attention.”
“Of course not, darling,” Rarity said in a placating tone, limping up her stairs. Opalescence continued swatting the air furiously. “I'm just going to shut her in the bedroom for a little bit. She needs to have some time to think about what she's done.”
Rarity tossed the ball of claws and fur into her room, perhaps a tad more roughly than was necessary, and pulled the door shut behind her. She bent down to examine her leg and winced as she saw the bright red streaks running parallel to each other across the inside of her knee. That damnable cat, she thought to herself as she limped back down the steps. Rarity loved Opalescence, but if she had cost her her chance at revenge she was going to start a new fashion line that made heavy use of cat hide.
“Oh, Rarity, you're bleeding!” Fluttershy crossed the Boutique to examine the claw marks Opal had left in Rarity's leg. “Let me help you bandage that.”
Rarity jerked her leg away. Her patience was wearing thin. “I'll be fine. Why don't we just get back to where we...” She trailed off as her eyes passed over the drawer of her sewing desk. Had it been left halfway open this whole time? Did Fluttershy see the poison vial? Rarity's gaze flickered to her friend, who looked as innocent as a newborn foal.
She knows! Rarity's mind spat. She found the vial, and she knows! The seamstress sucked in a lungful of air. Fluttershy didn't know anything. If she did, she would have run away. Rarity chided herself for her paranoia.
“Oh! We were going to make a toast!” Fluttershy swept the two wineglasses off the table and brought them with her, handing one to Rarity.
Oh! Oho! Rarity took hold of her glass in her levitation field. So that's her game, is it? The bitch is cleverer than I thought! She took a sniff at the glass which was almost certainly the one with the poison in it. Rarity knew better than to expect she could actually smell the poison, but she watched her friend's reaction and that told her everything she needed to know.
Or rather, her lack of reaction. Fluttershy grinned sweetly in precisely the way she would have if she had no idea about the poison, which told Rarity that she faced a dangerously canny opponent. She probably knew about the plan as soon as Rarity had asked her to collect the Thistleweaver venom, and had come to personally foil her. For all Rarity knew, Fluttershy may even have handed her the clean glass and kept the poisoned one for herself, waiting for her to suggest that they switch glasses. She had no way to tell which had the poison now.
The knife it is, then. A smile spread slowly across Rarity's face. “Actually, you know, it is bad form to drink without eating something first. Why don't I cut up some strawberries and then we'll have our toast.” She set her glass down on the table as she passed it on the way into the kitchen.
*-*-*
Fluttershy did not say anything about it, but she could tell something was bothering her friend Rarity. The expensive wine, the way her face twitched and her voice kept getting strained, all of it made Fluttershy's feathers itch nervously. She would not say anything about it, of course. Her friend liked to believe she was unreadable, and Fluttershy would not be so unkind as to dispel that illusion. If Rarity wanted her to know what was troubling her, she would tell her.
Still, it didn't stop the canary pegasus from worrying about her friend. What if she's in trouble? she thought as she set her own wineglass on the table and followed Rarity into the kitchen. What if she wants to tell me about it, but doesn't want to be a bother? Maybe I should say something.
“Um, Rarity?” she said, barely above a whisper. “I hope I'm not rude for asking, but is everything all right?”
Rarity nudged open her ice-box and drew out a few plump, fresh strawberries. “Of course, darling, everything is fine. Why do you ask?” She set the strawberries on the counter and pulled out a drawer of utensils.
Fluttershy frowned. “Um, no reason, really... It's just that you seem a bit tense tonight.”
Throughout most of her life, Fluttershy's skittish and jumpy nature had been a fairly severe handicap for her. It had made it difficult for her to make friends, and made her an easy target for bullies in school. It was the reason she lived so far from the rest of Ponyville, and worse yet, a doctor had told her once that the stress of being frightened so easily might one day lead to heart complications for her. However, there was at least one upside to it all; Fluttershy had reflexes that would make an adder flush with jealousy.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Fluttershy found herself rearing back as a sharp kitchen knife, bathed in a pale blue magical aura, whistled through the air where her neck had been a fraction of a second ago. A feral, hateful scream tore its way from Rarity's throat as she twisted around and took another wild swing.
Fluttershy stumbled backwards as the knife clipped a lock of pink hair from her mane. “R-Rarity?! What are you doing?”
“I should think that would be obvious,” Rarity said, taking a few quick steps to close the distance between them. “Hold still and I shall clarify for you!” With this she made a fierce lunge, the kitchen knife lancing forward like the tip of a spear.
Fluttershy shrieked as she saw the tip of the blade come back dipped in red. She scrambled backwards, wings beating against the air in blind panic. The pegasus felt the sharp metal clip one of her hooves as she rose above the deadly arc of another vicious slash.
Something struck the back of Fluttershy's head. The firefly lamp, she realized as a swarm of blinding lights filled her vision. The escaping insects swirled around her head, disorienting her. As quickly as they had come, the fireflies were gone, escaping through an open window as Fluttershy fell blindly back to the ground.
Without the illumination of the lamp, the Boutique was bathed in black shadows. Rarity stood outlined in the doorway to the kitchen, moonlight glinting off of her knife. Fluttershy bit her lip and dove for the biggest, darkest shadow she could find. The soft texture of fabric met her coat. She held her breath and nestled against the cloth as silently as she could manage. If there was one thing Fluttershy was an expert at, it was being quiet. Perhaps the fireflies had temporarily blinded Rarity as well, and if Fluttershy could hide quietly enough she would assume the mare had escaped through a window and go chasing out the door after her.
Rarity did not move toward the door. Instead, her horn glowed, and Fluttershy heard locks and latches clicking into place. With horror, the pegasus realized Rarity was locking her in. Fluttershy shivered and tried to burrow further into the pile of fabric.
“You know you can't hide from me in my own boutique, dear,” Rarity called, taking a deliberate step into the shadows. “I know every inch of this place.” Fluttershy wanted to answer her friend, ask her why she was doing such things, but icy fingers of fear held her muzzle firmly shut.
Fluttershy stifled a fearful squeak as Rarity sliced open a ponyquin silhouetted in one of the display windows. Stuffing dropped to the floor in fluffy heaps. Rarity pushed the slain object over. “I never liked that one anyway,” she said as she continued prowling about the room.
“Of course, you do know you're making this more trouble than it needs to be,” Rarity growled, prodding under her sewing desk. There were only so many hiding places left for the unicorn to check before she would come upon Fluttershy's pile of fabric. “I gave you the perfect chance to make this clean and easy. But then, that's just like you, never even interested in the gifts you've been given.”
The large bay window was a tempting route of escape. Fluttershy pictured herself hurtling across the room and crashing through to freedom. But she knew that only worked in action thrillers like the books Rainbow Dash always read. If she were to try, she might not even manage to break the glass, and if she did, the shards would almost certainly shred her wings to pieces, leaving her bleeding and flightless; easy for Rarity to track down and catch.
Rarity's hoofsteps grew louder as she circled around toward Fluttershy. “I expect you're bleeding all over my fabrics, aren't you? Such a waste! Bloodstains never quite completely come out of linen.” There was an odd rhythm to Rarity's hoofsteps. Fluttershy remembered the limp Rarity had adopted after Opalescence had scratched her. Opal! She realized, too late, that poor Opal had been trying to warn her. Now the cat was locked in the bedroom for trying to save Fluttershy's life.
...Except the bedroom door did not have a lock. Fluttershy knew this because Rarity was always complaining about Sweetie Belle getting into her stuff. If she could make it up the stairs, maybe she could escape through the bedroom window. Fluttershy's eyes traced a path from her hiding spot to the stairs. She could make it.
The weight of fabric lifted off of Fluttershy's back. Rarity's eyes gleamed in the light of her own horn as a cruel grin crossed her face. “There you are, darling!”
Fluttershy gave a panicked whinny and bolted for the stairs. She ignored the pain in her bleeding hoof as she shot forward. The kitchen knife whizzed past her head and buried itself nearly to the hilt in the wall in front of her. Fluttershy ducked under the blade and scrambled up the flight of stairs. Her hooves slipped on the smooth wooden floorboards as she heard Rarity give a cry of frustration trying to wrench the knife free.
The bedroom door appeared at Fluttershy's side. She was mere steps from freedom. With all the strength she could muster, she kicked at the door, opening it with a protesting creak. Cooler air from the bedroom met her cheeks, and she gulped a breath of it as she stepped inside.
Fluttershy's heart sank. The bedroom was dark, but even in just the moonlight she could see that the bedroom window was shut and latched too. Of course it's latched, she thought numbly. Why wouldn't it be? The only window in the shop that doesn't latch is the skylight.
Fluttershy's eyes drifted upwards. The skylight was made to let natural light in to the showroom on the main floor. The latch on it had been broken ever since Rainbow Dash had demonstrated that she was entirely too impatient to be one of Rarity's dress forms. The skylight was narrow, but if Fluttershy could build up enough airspeed she could fold her wings and squeeze through.
Rarity's attention appeared to still be focused on freeing the knife from the wall. She had given up on her telekinesis and was down to gripping the hilt in her mouth. Fluttershy gulped. Her wings never wanted to cooperate with her when adrenaline was in her system, but if there was ever a moment she needed to fly it was now. She spread her wings.
Fluttershy squeezed her eyes shut and pushed herself off the top step. Rarity growled in fury as the pegasus sailed over her head. Fluttershy pounded her wings against the stale indoor air. If she went straight for the skylight, she would stall. She needed to make a lap around the showroom to build up speed before attempting her escape.
The maroon cloth, black in the gloom, seemed to lurch at her like a python. Fluttershy yelped and banked left. A ponyquin dressed in a top hat blocked her path. Fluttershy tumbled over it, but used her hooves to push off before she lost too much momentum. The dark and the clutter of the Boutique all seemed to conspire against the pegasus, but instinct and blind panic pushed her through the obstacles.
She felt she had accelerated enough to make it through the skylight, so she turned and made a beeline for the alcove in the ceiling. Fluttershy could see the stars filtering through the semi-translucent glass. Her pulse pounded in her teeth as she stretched for the exit. She could taste the fresh outdoor air seeping in.
Sharp pain shot through Fluttershy's wing as a needle pierced her. She yelped as something tugged at her wing, causing her to tilt uncontrollably and miss the skylight. Fluttershy desperately tried to correct her path, but three more tiny missiles lanced through her wing, trailing thread behind them. Suddenly the air was filled with a volley of needles, each bathed in a blue glow.
A pained yelp erupted from Fluttershy's throat as dozens of threads pulled at her wings. She hung suspended from the ceiling like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. It felt like every one of her feathers were on fire as the strings tugged her in all directions at once. The pegasus attempted one more time to shake her wings free, but she knew it was futile even before her efforts were rewarded with a fresh wave of agony.
Rarity stepped forward, the soft glow from her horn illuminating a face twisted so much by hate that Fluttershy barely recognized it as belonging to a pony at all. “Leaving without even saying a word?” The unicorn's voice dripped with a dangerous lilt. “Fluttershy, darling, such rudeness is unbecoming of you!”
Fluttershy gasped for air. “R-Rarity,” she stammered. “W-what—” she lost control of her voice as Rarity's horn glowed brighter and the threads began pulling harder. Thin rivulets of blood began dripping down the strings, making it appear as though she had grown a second pair of crimson wings.
The pressure lessened for a moment as a fierce yowl echoed from below. Opalescence, having escaped from the bedroom, leapt at her owner, her claws bared in animal fury.
Rarity narrowed her eyes, her face barely even registering pain as the ball of white fur attacked her legs. “Not now, Opal, mommy's busy,” she said, and flicked the cat away with a bright flash of her horn. Fluttershy shrieked as Opal slumped against the wall and stopped moving.
“Rarity!” The entangled mare struggled uselessly once more against her gruesome bonds. Tears streaked her cheeks and made her mane stick to her face. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Rarity's eyelid twitched as she refocused her attention on her bleeding friend. “Why darling, this is all about you, of course. All of this is your fault, dear.”
“M-my fault?” gasped Fluttershy. “What... what did I do?”
“Do?” Rarity barked out a harsh laugh. “What did you do?” Her horn glowed brighter again, making her trap threaten once again to pull Fluttershy's wings apart feather by feather. “Dear, you didn't do anything! That is precisely the problem! While I've spent every day working my horn to a nub to achieve fame and recognition, mastery of my craft and personal beauty and grace, you spend your life hiding in your dreadful cottage, trying to stay out of everypony's way, and yet you are simply handed everything I've ever striven for!”
Fluttershy felt her jaw tremble. “I—I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “I never wanted—”
“No, you never even wanted any of it!” Rarity spat. “You're given everything I've built my life around seeking, and you treat it like it's some kind of a nuisance! Did you know there's still billboards of you up in Canterlot? It's been years since you quit modeling and they're still worshiping you like you're the fourth bucking princess!”
“Is that what this is about?” squeaked Fluttershy. “My modeling career? Rarity, we've already talked about this, that was the worst month of my life since I moved to Ponyville!”
Another sharp jerk on her wings silenced the pegasus. Rarity's lip curved cruelly. “If it were just the modeling thing, I would be fine. Pleased, in fact, that I had a friend blessed with such natural grace.” She paced around the room, staying just out of reach of Fluttershy's dangling hooves. “But it's not your brief modeling career. No, at every turn I find you have an inborn gift for all of the things I wish I had. I mean, who just knows haute couture off the top of her head? Sewing is my livelihood, and I had do dig out reference material for it!”
“M-my mother is an expert on Prench fashion,” Fluttershy choked out.
“My mother is a housewife!” snarled Rarity. “I had to learn everything I know on my own! Do you know how many times I pricked my hooves as a filly before I figured out the purpose of a thimble?”
Fluttershy tried to wince and turn away from the anger her friend was spewing at her, but her silk-threaded prison held her firmly in place. “I'm sorry!” she cried, unable to see through her tears. “I-if you want, I'll never sew again, I promise!”
“You still don't get it, do you?” The fire slowly faded from Rarity's voice, leaving cold glassy edges in its place. “Your rejection of all these gifts, that's the real insult. You just can't be bothered to care that you just happen to be capable of all the things other ponies would give their left hindleg for.” The glow on Rarity's horn dimmed to a faint shimmer and Fluttershy felt herself slowly being lowered. “Even my own sister loves you more than me,” she muttered.
“Rarity,” Fluttershy said, feeling the tension on her wings relax. “Oh, Rarity, you know that isn't true!”
“She told me as much Wednesday morning,” Rarity murmured. Fluttershy could see tears forming in the corners of her friend's eyes. “I forgot to take her to school, and she yelled that she would never be late if you were her sister instead of me.”
Fluttershy choked on her pain as feeling flooded back into her wings. “Rarity, sh-she didn't mean it. Fillies say silly things like that all the time!”
The strings went taut again. Fluttershy's voice went hoarse as she was lifted back towards the ceiling. Rarity fixed her cold blue eyes on her. “She meant it! I could see it in her eyes!”
Fluttershy's hooves flailed wildly. “I'm sorry! Rarity, I'm so sorry! I'll... I'll try harder not to do any of the things you're good at, Rarity! Please!”
Rarity snorted derisively. “And they'll probably grant you land and a title for your trouble! I'll get to call you 'Lady Fluttershy,' and you'll sit on your ungrateful plot and complain that you never asked for it!”
“What am I supposed to do?” snapped Fluttershy.
“You were supposed to drink the Celestia-damned poison!” roared Rarity back at her. “You were supposed to die thinking about how everypony loves you so bucking much!”
“Poison?” Fluttershy's eyes flickered to the bottle of wine. Her face drained of all color. “Oh—oh Celestia,” she croaked. “You really mean to do it, don't you? I thought... I thought maybe you just wanted to scare me, but...” Her throat went dry and began squeezing itself shut. “...but you really want to kill me, don't you?”
“It was to be my final gift to you,” said Rarity, levitating the two wineglasses over from the table. By some dark miracle, neither had spilled during the frenzied chase. “You would never have had to know the depths of my hatred. You could have just passed on peacefully, with a smile on your ignorant lips.” The unicorn studied the red liquid in the two vessels. “But I suppose I should have expected your talent for spoiling gifts would come through.”
“Rarity, don't,” Fluttershy pleaded. “Rarity, you need to get yourself help, can't you see this isn't normal? None of these things are worth killing somepony over!”
Rarity chuckled. “I suppose these are all fairly petty and frivolous justifications for murder,” she mused, “but then, as somepony told me once, I am a petty and frivolous pony.”
Fluttershy's eyes widened. “No, please don't!”
Rarity's horn flashed, and the needles in Fluttershy's wings went slack. The pegasus mare dropped to the floor in a heap. She tried to struggle, but could no longer so much as put her own hooves under herself.
A pair of white hooves held her head firmly. “Of course, you may be right, darling. Perhaps I am not quite right in my mind. I believe once I deposit your body in Froggy Bottom Bog, I shall schedule an appointment to have myself examined.”
Fluttershy whinnied meekly. Who is going to take care of Angel? she thought sadly. Her head filled with all the things she had left undone. The book on songbird plumage she had yet to return to Twilight's library. The promise she had made to help Applejack plant a new row of saplings next week. She would not get to attend Pinkie's next birthday party or cheer for Rainbow Dash in the next stunt-flying competition.
“Now, I'm afraid that in all this excitement I have lost track of which of these glasses contained the poison, so I hope you don't mind having both.” Rarity levitated the bottle over to herself. “I shall draw my toasts from the bottle. Now then,” she raised the bottle and one of the glasses. “To your health!” Rarity pinched Fluttershy's nostrils shut, forcing her mouth open. Fluttershy retched and gagged as the liquid burned its way down her throat.
The unicorn took a swig from the bottle. “Oh my, but that is fine wine!” she remarked, wiping her muzzle. “I'd sooner have a swallow of this than ten of that rat-infested hovel you call a home!” She nudged Fluttershy in the shoulder. “Are you still with me, darling?”
Fluttershy coughed and wheezed.
“You are! Well, that solves the mystery of where the poison is, doesn't it?” The second glass hovered in front of Fluttershy's lips. Rarity raised her bottle a second time. “To friendship!” Once again, Fluttershy's nostrils were pressed shut. Once again the sweet alcohol smoldered in her mouth and slipped past her tongue.
It was a pleasant, sunny Wednesday afternoon when Rarity decided she would kill her friend Fluttershy. It was the deepest dark of a Friday night when she buried her in the soft marshy soil of Froggy Bottom Bog.
Author's Note
*-*-*
All right, I'm giving you all the same warning I gave in The East Field. Next chapter is the Epilogue, and it will ruin the whole story. If you came for an actual darkfic, get out while you can, because the Epilogue is there solely to make me feel better about having written ten pages of ponies hurting each other.
If you're like me, and you need to soften this up with an ending that retroactively turns it all to fluff, go on ahead and click Next Chapter. If the thought of pulling punches like that sickens you, then congratulations, you are more hard-boiled than me. Close your browser and go wrestle a bear or something equally macho to demonstrate your inherent dominance.
