//------------------------------// // 10 - Luna // Story: Pinkie Pie is Dead // by chrumsum //------------------------------// Darkness comes too fast, and I’m drinking again. I told myself I wouldn’t do this anymore. Told myself I was better than that. Look at me. I’m so pathetic that I can’t even lie to myself and believe it. The fifth or maybe sixth swig of whiskey goes down hard and sits like a poison in my stomach. I’m not sure what’s more noxious: the booze or the self pity. Walls are moving on their own at this point, sashaying like dreaming dancers. The rain roars outside. At least I think it is. I can’t hear it over the rushing blood in my ears. Another drink. This one burns. Where did I go wrong? Does it matter? I’ve fucked it up yet again. A three-time loser now, with nothing to show for it. And then ponies have the nerve to tell me anyone deserves a second chance. What’s it going to take? Am I going to have to get somepony innocent killed again before people learn to quit on me? Before they learn that I’m just not worth it? The alcohol is taking me back to that dark place again. That cold thing happens in my stomach. I feel it leak into my brain. The room spins like Tartarus’s carousel. Got to make it to the bed. Got to stay awake. I can’t do it. I fall and the floorboards rush up to meet me. Everything seems perfectly reasonable when you’re falling. *** Darkness comes too fast, and I know this place. I kick the door in. “Sideways, don’t! For fuck’s sake, wait for the damn backup!” someone screams. I know he’s right, and I tell myself to stop and wait. But I don’t. I’m just going through the motions. It plays out like a movie that I’ve seen one time too many. I don’t want to watch it. I know how it ends. Silver Whistle. Nine years old. Wants to be a singer. And if I don’t hurry that sick fuck’s going to add her to his list. I know the first room’s empty without even checking it out. I’ve been here before. Building 52A, Phillydelphia Warehouse and Trade Center. All roads lead here. The guy doesn’t have a name. We call him Monster. What else could you call a pony who kidnaps fillies and leaves them in pieces? They never die fast. Their little faces are always frozen in that last moment before he finished them. Eyes wide. Faces cold. Mouths screaming. Always screaming. The catwalks watch me from above. Heart’s pounding. There’s a dark corner behind every box and the shadows are reaching for me. I pull my gun from its holster and hold it in front of me like a shield. The glow keeps the shadows away. All except for one. A single low-hanging lamp leaves a single circle of light at the heart of the warehouse. It shines down on knives and wires tossed together in a pile. It shines down on little Silver Whistle, tied to a chair. Tears are pouring down her face, and her eyes are wide. Her breathing comes in terrified gasps. No little filly should have to be this afraid. Never. I walk towards her and there’s a click. He steps out from behind the chair, horn glowing. A gun floats in front of him, trembling. “Phillydelphia police,” I hear myself echo. “Drop the gun right now. It’s over.” Monster smiles. He’s shivering. His voice comes in a panicked squeal. Like a rodent. “You just stay the hell away from me, man. You get the hell away or... or I’ll shoot. Yeah. I’ll shoot ya right in the head.” “I told you it’s over, you son of a bitch. Drop the fucking gun.” “No, no, no. I can’t do that, man, you know I can’t do that. I’m not done.” “There’s nothing to finish.” “You don’t understand!” Monster shrieks like a strangled bird, shaking the chair. Silver Whistle whimpers and closes her eyes. “He’s coming, man! He’s coming! I can hear him right now. He’s breathing down my neck, crawling in my flesh. He’s coming. And if I don’t give him what he wants he’ll eat my soul.” “You’re out of your mind,” I tell him. My aim doesn’t leave him. Too close to the girl. Can’t get a shot. Keep him talking, keep his mind off of her. “Put down the gun. The filly’s got nothing to do with this. Put it down and we can just talk about this.” “Talking? Talking won’t stop him, dammit! He’s getting closer! You’re wasting my time, man! Just go away! I’ll shoot you! I swear I’ll shoot you!” “You’re not going to shoot me.” Yes he is. The right side of my face explodes in a thin line, like I’ve been whipped. It burns like hell and my ears start ringing. A centimeter sideways and little Silver Whistle would have gotten to watch my brains get sprayed out the back of my skull. Instead it nicks my cheekbone. I don’t think. I fire back and hear him scream. He collapses. I look down and there’s blood all over my coat. Almost blends in with the rusty hair. Face still burning. I shake it off and keep my gun on Monster as I walk towards him. “My shoulder...” he moans, his face contorted in a grimace. “Oh sweet Celestia, I think you fucked my shoulder...” There’s blood everywhere. Not just mine now. Doesn’t make sense. Hit him in the shoulder. Why is there blood on his face? I know the answer but I look anyways and it burns itself into my brain. Silver Whistle. Nine years old. Wants to be a singer. And I just went and shot her through the neck. I don’t want to look but I can’t stop staring. Her head hangs low, her chin resting against her chest. She could be asleep, if her white fur wasn’t soaked with blood. “My shoulder... Holy shit, my shoulder hurts so b–” I grab Monster by the neck and hit him in the muzzle. Hard. It explodes into a spray of blood. He clutches his face and goes to scream. I throw him into a crate before he can. You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch. He holds out a hoof in front of him, cringing like a beat dog. Blood’s rushing in my ears and I’m gonna kill this son of a bitch. “Please, don’t–” I hit him again. And again. I keep hitting until he stops talking and he’s just spitting out his own teeth. “Duh–don’t kill me... Please oh please I don’t want to–” I go for my gun and shove it into his temple. He feels it. Monster stops begging and becomes deathly still. I can’t say a word. My mouth’s on fire and I go to pull the trigger. “That’s enough, Sideways.” I turn on my heel and stick my gun towards someone standing behind me. Her mane glitters like the stars that stopped shining for me long ago. The light catches her face. Luna. “What are you doing here?” My voice comes out like sandpaper. “Observing,” she says quietly. “Observing... This... this is a dream. My dream. What the hell are you doing here?” “This is more than just–” “No! This... You’re not supposed to be here! You weren’t there. This is my head! Get out of my head, damn you!” I keep my gun on her though I know it wouldn’t do a damn thing if I had to use it. “Perhaps you are right. I shouldn’t be here. A princess I may be, but here... A wanderer. I apologize. But you must stop. This memory is not one worth repeating.” “Shut up!” I scream. “He deserves it! He’s no pony! He’s a rat! He deserves this! I deserve this!” “Your mind is trapped by the past, Sideways. You speak not as you would. This is a dream. Let it go.” “Let it got?” I echo. “How can I let it go? How can I let it go when I see it... Every damn night I see it. A little girl dying... by my own stupidity. I should have waited. Every time I know I should have waited for backup. We could have saved her. I... could have...” My gun falls out of my grip and clatters to the floor. I collapse to my knees. She doesn’t say anything. “I just wasn’t... good enough. Wasn’t smart enough, strong enough. I could’ve saved her if I’d just been more. I know I could’ve saved her but I didn’t.” “She knew, didn’t she?” asks Luna. I look up. “What?” “Pinkie Pie. Is that why she was so dear to you, Sideways? Because you trusted her enough to tell her of this moment?” When I don’t give her an answer, she takes it as a yes, she leans in close. Her breath smells faintly of petrichor, and it sends a frisson down my spine. “What did Pinkie Pie tell you that made her so special?” I can’t keep my voice from quivering when I speak. “She told me it wasn’t my fault.” The world goes white. The chair and Silver Whistle disappear. I look behind myself and Monster’s no longer there trying to scrape himself off the concrete. It’s nothing but floating whiteness. “What’s happening?” I ask her. Princess Luna smiles at me and offers me her hoof. “You’re waking up.” I take it and she helps me up. “But you’re wrong, Sideways,” she tells me. “Everypony deserves another chance. I too made a mistake. A long, long time ago. I returned, having learned nothing, but was given another chance.” “But I can’t do it. Everything’s gone belly up my whole life. You were right all along. I don’t deserve this. I can’t do it.” “I wonder if Pinkie once thought the same way,” Luna murmurs wisely, looking down at me. “I wonder if she looked at you once and thought that she could never manage to make you smile.” She turns to leave, spreading her wings. She gives me a smile that could melt snow. “You said this wasn’t about you, Detective Sideways. It’s about repaying your debt. And there’s only one way to get the chance to do that. You must learn the one thing that you cannot seem to understand.” “What do you mean? Learn what?” With a flap of her wings, she’s airborne. Her figure grows faint, as if a white fog were forming between us. The last thing I see are her eyes before it envelops her. “You must learn not to give up on yourself.”