• Published 28th Sep 2012
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Repercussions - GaryOak



None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe that they are free.

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Chapter VIII - Nightmare's Manifestation

Chapter VIII
Nightmare’s Manifestation
===============

Twilight lay in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. She wasn't sure exactly how late they had stayed up studying, but when she finally went to bed, she did so with an air of confidence the likes of which she hadn't felt in days. Twilight was quite proud of herself; the spell that they had devised was largely thanks to her ingenuity, and when they retired for the night, they were certain it could do the job. With any luck, it would break any mind control magic.

Twilight stretched. “Greyhoof?”

There was no answer. Bolting upright, she found that Greyhoof's bed was missing. Twilight began frantically looking around the room. It was the library, but at the same time, it wasn't. Everything was darker than usual, the books were torn apart and strewn about the floor, and the whole place felt strangely warped, as if it had begun to melt.

“Greyhoof? Spike? What's going on?”

Silence was all that proceeded Twilight's call. Bounding down the stairs, Twilight saw that the entire ground floor was devoid of the scrolls that had littered it the previous day. The bookshelves were twisted and warped much like the upstairs ones, but they were bloodstained. She spun around as she heard a familiar laugh behind her.

“No – it can't be!”

The dark mare, even larger than in her last dream, stood in a pool of blood which expanded beneath its hooves. “You are too late, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Too late for what?” challenged Twilight through gritted teeth.

The brightness of the mare's eyes intensified, but its posture remained almost casual. “You have failed. What's done is done.”

Twilight bristled. “Y-you're wrong!”

The creature closed its eyes and pointed toward the library's door. “Beyond that door, all will become clear...” When it finished speaking, it vanished in a puff of smoke, which dissipated into the air.

Gulping, Twilight looked at the door suspiciously. At first glance, it appeared to be no more deformed than the rest of the library. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her magic around the handle and opened it. Rather than leading into Ponyville, it instead revealed a long, barren hallway with a door at the far end. Its floor was made of wooden planks, and the pink wallpaper was peeling to reveal a bloodstained wooden frame behind it. What's happening to me? Is it even real? Am I going insane?

Twilight stepped into the hallway, the door behind her slamming shut seemingly of its own accord. Is the dark mare still out there? Checking behind her, Twilight found the door had vanished, replaced by the same peeling wallpaper that adorned the rest of the hall. I guess... the only way to go is forward. Taking a cautious step, Twilight exhaled loudly when nothing happened. She began walking slowly at first, looking from side to side frantically, as if her enemy might jump out of the walls at any moment. After a few steps, she quickened her pace, eager to be out of the hallway as fast as possible.

When she finally reached the end, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door. It was all Twilight could do to not scream. The floor was blood-caked and the place smelled of death, the stench strong enough to make her gag involuntarily. The walls were lined with knives, swords, and saws, all of varying shapes and sizes, and all of them bloodstained.

Twilight's mouth hung agape as she averted her eyes from the walls and turned her attention to the floor. There they were: Cloud Kicker, Holly Dash, Cotton Top, and lying at her hooves, Twist. The filly's glasses were smashed into pieces beside her. All four of the ponies were mutilated in some way, and each of them looked to have been dead for quite some time.

Staggering backwards, Twilight covered her mouth as she looked to the centre of the room, tears streaming down her cheeks. She saw the shadow of a pony struggling and strapped to a table. Before she could attempt to comprehend what she had just seen, her whole body seized up when she heard a blood-curdling yell. From behind the door lunged a pony whom she was unable to identify, yet looked strangely familiar. In the pony's clutch was a large, bloodied knife, aimed directly at Twilight. She screamed as her unknown assailant lunged at her, the knife swishing in the air. She had no time to react; the attack was so sudden and the horror of what lay before paralyzed her with fear. The knife made contact with her throat, and then –

“Twilight!”

“TWILIGHT!”

She woke with a start, a pale-looking Greyhoof shaking her. “Twilight! I heard screaming! Did you –”

Twilight bit her lip, her eyes watering, as she nodded at Greyhoof. “It's worse, Greyhoof, much worse.” She stared into his concerned eyes. “Something terrible has happened – or is about to happen – but I – I don't know what to do.”

Greyhoof sat down at the bedside and wrapped his hooves around one of Twilight's. “Tell me everything.”

Twilight shuddered as her whole body contracted slightly. “The dark mare – she didn't kill anypony this time, but –”

“Twilight, is there anything I can do to help?” asked Spike, wringing his hands as he approached her bed.

“I don't think so,” said Twilight. “Why don't you tidy up downstairs, except the scrolls? There's work to be done.”

Greyhoof's eyes flicked to Spike, and then back to Twilight. “Please, tell me what happened. What did she do?”

“She said that I was too late. She had me go out that door,” Twilight pointed at the library door, “but when I went through, I was in some sort of hallway. It was somehow both familiar and alien at the same time. I knew I'd been there before, but it was wrong – all wrong. It was reality, except... twisted.”

Twilight's whole body contracted of its own accord. “When I opened the door at the end of it, I found them. All of them. Every pony the dark mare killed in my dreams was maimed on the floor. And... in the centre... somepony was strapped to a table. I don't know who it was, but before I could free him or her, I was attacked.”

“By – her?” asked Greyhoof breathlessly.

Twilight shook her head. “No, by somepony else. With a knife.”

Greyhoof's eyes momentarily swam out of focus. “What does it mean?”

“I don't know. Perhaps it has to do with the spell you cast on me,” said Twilight, sitting upright and resting her muzzle on her hooves.

“What are you talking about?” asked Greyhoof, his eyes widening.

Twilight stared blankly at the wall. “Before, my dreams seemed chaotic. It all seemed to happen randomly. The fires, the victims, the dark mare's appearance, and the warnings. But now, rather than preventing the dreams, your spell seems to have either focused them or had no effect whatsoever...”

“I don't understand this at all,” said Greyhoof. “I did exactly what the book said...”

Twilight swung out of bed and began trotting down the stairs. “I think it's trying to tell me something. This ends today. Greyhoof, we're solving this. Now.”

“And just how do you propose to do that?” asked Greyhoof, clambering down the stairs after her. “We have no suspects, no leads, nothing.”

Brandishing a scroll and inked quill, Twilight spun around to face him. “We do have a lead, and we're going to use it.”

Greyhoof's horn shimmered as he procured a scroll and quill of his own. “So, you think my 'crazy' theories are correct?”

“I don't want to... but it's the only thing we've got.”

Sitting down beside Twilight, Greyhoof spread his scroll out on the floor in front of him. “What's your plan here; and what if Celestia is truly behind this?”

Twilight smoothed her parchment out as well and grabbed a large bottle of ink. “I'd rather not think about that right now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She began scrawling information on it. “As for the plan, well, I figure if the killer is acting mostly normal, that means she's going to leave some sort of trail.”

Greyhoof gestured to the mountain of scrolls. “And this?”

“Simple. Every pony in Ponyville will be accounted for here, as well as possible whereabouts and behavioural patterns,” said Twilight matter-of-factly. “Once we're done, we can cross-reference them with the last known locations of the missing.”

“But you said not five minutes ago that we're practically out of time,” protested Greyhoof.

Twilight began to write even faster. “And you've got a better suggestion?” She grabbed a particularly thick book and plonked it next to Greyhoof. “That's a copy of the town census as of this year.”

Twilight and Greyhoof worked feverishly and without pause, save for a quick snack Spike brought them mid-morning. Their work continued into the afternoon, when they heard a high-pitched noise that drew close at an alarming rate. They looked toward the noise's source, which happened to be out of one of the library's open windows, and saw a rainbow-coloured blur hurtling in the window's direction. Twilight scarcely had time to move the majority of their work before the blur made contact, but to her surprise, Rainbow Dash stopped right as she reached the window.

“Hah! I knew I could pull that off; I've been practicing that for weeks!” she exclaimed.

“Can we help you, Rainbow?” said Twilight quizzically.

“No, Twilight, but I can help you!” quipped Rainbow. “I knew this would happen. The moment you get out of prison, what do you do? Egghead stuff. Yeah, I know you're probably trying to figure out how to save Ponyville right now, but I think you could use a snack. Something good.”

“Thanks, Rainbow, but we really don't –”

“Oh, come on, Twilight! Fine, if you won't come with me, I'll just go grab you something from Sugarcube Corner. Maybe it'll help you find something!” said Rainbow, remaining perched atop the windowsill.

Twilight and Greyhoof's stomachs growled in unison. “Now that I think about it,” said Twilight, “I did promise something from there today, but I guess we both just got a bit wrapped up in this sleuth work. Thanks, Rainbow.”

Rainbow waved a hoof. “Hey, that's what friends are for, right?”

With that, she was off, the sudden gust of wind from her wings sending a good number of scrolls flying around the room. Rainbow sped across the streets of Ponyville, her mane flapping in the wind. A few seconds later, she reached the bakery and flew around it. Spotting Pinkie near the back door, she landed and gave her friend a wave.

“Hey Dashie!” chirped Pinkie.

“Hey Pinkie,” said Rainbow. “Look, I don't have long, I just need something extra special for Twilight, and I guess that jerk, Greyhoof, too. They've been working themselves to the bone in the library and could use a little something.”

“Oh, that's all?” giggled Pinkie. “I've got just the thing in mind!”

Rainbow folded her wings. “You do?”

“Of course, silly!” said Pinkie. “But it'll take a few minutes to whip up. I know! You can come in and wait while I bake!”

Rainbow facehoofed. “This won't take too long, will it? They're probably pretty hungry by now, and I promised the squirt I'd give her another flying lesson.”

“Well, you can help with a few things if you want,” said Pinkie, opening the back door, and revealing the bakery's kitchen.

“If you think it'll make things go faster,” said Rainbow, taking a few steps into Sugarcube Corner. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Stay right where you are...” snarled Pinkie.

* * *

Completely losing track of time, Twilight and Greyhoof pushed forward with their deduction. As the afternoon dragged on, their frustration – and appetites – grew. The library was an absolute mess; any semblance of order to the assortment of scrolls had long since been lost. Many had been carelessly tossed into an ever-growing mound on one side of the room, while a myriad of others were strewn about the floor. The majority of these bore hastily-scrawled hoofnotes.

“Oh, for pony's sake!” cursed Twilight, crumpling up a piece of paper and sending it into the mountain of scrolls, toppling the topmost section. “This is getting us nowhere!”

“I'm sure we'll come up with something,” said Greyhoof calmly.

“You said that an hour ago,” moaned Twilight, scowling at the scroll in front of her. “How are we supposed to catch somepony who leaves no trail, no clues?”

Greyhoof's mane swished from side to side as he shook his head. “No, I can't accept that. There has to be something. There has to be.” His horn shimmered light blue as he brought a large scroll in front of them. “Let's go over this, one more time.”

Twilight unsuccessfully tried to repress a loud sigh. “Fine,” she said, monotoned. She only half-looked at the scroll as she recited what was written on it. “Twist was last seen by Sugarcube Corner; Holly Dash was going for a dip in the duck pond; Cloud Kicker, near the spa; and lastly, Cotton Top was on her way to Rarity's Carousel Boutique.”

Frowning, Greyhoof released the scroll, letting it drift to the ground. “You're right. They occurred at different times of the day, in completely different parts of town. And where one was going has absolutely no relation to the others.”

“And the ponies themselves aren't connected in any way, either. One was a filly, one was an earth pony, one a pegasus, and one a unicorn,” said Twilight.

Greyhoof scratched his head. “It's just so... random.”

Twilight snapped to attention and began staring at Greyhoof. “Can you repeat that?”

Baffled, Greyhoof turned and met Twilight's gaze. “Pardon? I just meant that there appears to be no rhyme or reason to any of this. No pattern, no correlation between the victims or their whereabouts, as if it was all done at random.”

Twilight's eyes glazed over as she was gripped by a horrible thought. “Maybe – maybe that is a clue in itself.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Greyhoof, eyebrows raised.

“No, think about it,” pressed Twilight, her brow furrowed with concentration. “If we're going along with this mind control theory, we've agreed that whoever is mind controlled retains most of their free will, correct?”

“Right.”

“That means the killer's personality will have some influence on how he or she goes about it, right?”

“Well, yes,” said Greyhoof. “What are you getting at?”

“If the randomness of it all is the clue, then I think that narrows down our list of suspects,” said Twilight. Oh no... what am I saying? Her blood ran cold as a terrible thought crossed her mind. “No... no... it can't be...” Twilight bit her lip. “It can't be Pinkie Pie!”

Greyhoof recoiled as if he'd been stung. “I'm sorry, what? Sure, she can be noisy and quite irritating at times, but a murderer? Even with mind control, her being the one makes no sense at all.”

Twilight began absently clearing the scrolls around the room. “Do you think I want to even entertain this thought? Pinkie is one of my closest friends. But – but I know her. Everything being random and nonsensical... it's the best lead we've got.”

“I think this whole ordeal's been getting to you, Twilight.” Greyhoof relocated next to her and rested a hoof on her shoulder.

“We at least have to try to follow this up and do some investigating. I mean, there's –”

Twilight was interrupted by a rap on the door. Getting up, she opened it to reveal Scootaloo, who looked almost as upset as Twilight felt.

“Where's Rainbow?” demanded Scootaloo, tears glistening in her purple eyes.

Twilight blinked. “Rainbow? I'd lost track of time! She went to Sugarcube Corner some time ago.”

Sitting down on her haunches, Scootaloo folded her front hooves and began to pout. “Rainbow told me to meet her in the field for another flying lesson in a few minutes. She said she was going to check on you before heading over.” Tears began streaming down her face. “THAT WAS HOURS AGO!” she screamed, bawling into her hooves.

Twilight froze and slowly turned her head toward Greyhoof. “Sugarcube Corner! You don't think –”

“That your theory is –” added Greyhoof, giving Twilight a wide-eyed stare.

Raising her head, Scootaloo momentarily forgot her frustration and looked at Twilight with curiosity. “Wait, what's going on? What about Sugarcube Corner?”

Gulping, Twilight knelt down beside Scootaloo. “Please, whatever you do, do not leave the library. Greyhoof and I have to go... somewhere.”

Springing to her hooves, Scootaloo frantically looked from side to side as Twilight and Greyhoof began leaving the library. “Hey! Where are you two going? Where's Rainbow?”

Twilight gently put a hoof under Scootaloo's muzzle and guided her face upward, looking sorrowfully into her eyes. “I don't really know what's going on, either. I'm sorry, Scootaloo, but please, you have to trust me. I promise we will return.”

Without another word, Twilight joined Greyhoof outside the library and closed the door. Greyhoof cocked his head toward Sugarcube Corner and the two of them set off toward the bakery at a gallop.

Scootaloo's face scrunched as she stared at the closed door, the sound of Twilight and Greyhoof's hooves fading into the distance. She unfurled her tiny wings and stood up. “I'm done with waiting. Rainbow didn't get to where she is by waiting.”

Opening the door, Scootaloo swallowed as she knew that she was about to disobey a direct order from Twilight. “I'm coming, Rainbow Dash!” She charged off after them as quickly as she dared.

When Twilight and Greyhoof reached Sugarcube Corner, Twilight burst into the bakery, startling a pair of customers. She barely noticed Mrs. Cake's greeting. “Have – you – seen – Rainbow – Dash?” wheezed Twilight.

“No,” said Mrs. Cake, frowning. “Was she supposed to be here?”

Twilight felt like her heart had stopped. “Are you sure? Where's Pinkie Pie?”

“I definitely don't remember seeing Rainbow anywhere,” said Mrs. Cake, bustling behind the counter as she spoke. “Pinkie's been keeping to herself lately. The poor girl's been spending a lot of time in her room or the cellar. I think all of these abductions are starting to get to her.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Cake,” said Twilight breathlessly. “Come on, Greyhoof, we're going into the cellar.”

Nodding solemnly, Greyhoof followed her into the bakery's kitchen. Turning a corner, they came upon a pair of doors in the floor next to a half-dozen bags of flour. When Twilight tried the handle, they heard the rattling of metal below, and the doors didn't budge.

“Stand back,” ordered Twilight. A moment later, her horn shimmered and discharged a burst of magenta toward the doors, splintering them with ease. “Let's go.”

She had never been inside Sugarcube Corner's cellar before. When she climbed down the small set of creaky wooden stairs, she found herself in an old wooden hallway. Twilight involuntarily flinched. This can't be right! This is almost exactly like my nightmare... Does this also mean that somepony – maybe even Pinkie wait behind that door, ready to kill us? She quickly glanced from side to side at the walls, somewhat relieved that they were devoid of the blood they had born in her dream. They slowly crept down the hall, Scootaloo staying a safe distance behind them and remaining undetected.

“Step by step, checking every detail –”

Twilight and Greyhoof froze when they heard those eerie, sing-song words coming from the other end of the door about twenty feet in front of them.

“What was that?” hissed Twilight.

“– Hook and knife, brought the body down into the cellar,” continued the voice. “Struggled as I placed her on the table, frantic as I wondered if I'm able, to go through with what master has planned –”

Twilight edged closer, the chilling voice growing louder with every step.

“I think you were right...” whispered Greyhoof, his voice shaking.

“– So far all of my actions went unmanned, I'm under master's duress –” Twilight's hair stood on end as Pinkie finished the latest verse of her song and gave a sharp laugh.

“– Bare the neck, make a deep incision, smell the blood as it pours out upon the surface, trying not to care for consequences, knowing that I have no good defenses –” Pinkie's voice trailed off momentarily as she began humming the melody to her song, its sound muffled by the door. Her voice quickened as she resumed her dreadful cadence. “– Silly little Pinkie, you've grown colder, time for master to take over, finish up the job that we have started, kill her for the vain and the cold hearted!”

Greyhoof's eyes flickered brightly. “Enough!” he grunted through gritted teeth, a blast of light blue energy from his horn disintegrating the door's handle and making it slowly swing open.

Twilight gazed into the dimly-lit room and called upon all of her willpower to keep herself from fainting. The singing had stopped and there was no living pony in sight. The room's stench was almost completely overpowering. She looked around and saw her nightmares brought to life before her eyes, one by one. She saw a blood stained sheet over a figure on a large wooden table. Resting on the sheet was an assortment of bloodied knives.

Peering around the room, her mouth hanging open in horror, Twilight saw and counted them. Twist, Cotton Top, Holly Dash, and Cloud Kicker. Each lay in a different spot on the floor, all maimed and resting in a dried pool of blood. On the wall above each was a crudely-drawn picture of the victim, nailed to the wall by a blood-caked dagger.

“No – it can't be –” breathed Twilight, using her magic to discard the sheet atop the centre table.

Beneath the sheet was Rainbow Dash. Her body had numerous cuts and gashes, her coat matted with blood. One of her wings lay askew at an awkward angle. She wasn't moving.

Scootaloo rushed in between Twilight and Greyhoof, and stared at the table. “Rainbow – what happened? Get up! Rainbow!”

Greyhoof rested a hoof on Scootaloo's shoulder and solemnly shook his head.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Scootaloo charged to the table. “Rainbow – RAINBOW! Why? WHY?

Twilight and Greyhoof stood there, stunned as Scootaloo climbed onto the table and buried her face in Rainbow's mane, her cries echoing off the walls. Scootaloo kept looking up from Rainbow's body and futilely tried to nudge the fallen pegasus, trying to wake her up.

“R-Rainbow! Why won't you get up?” sobbed Scootaloo, her face contorted with anguish. “Why won't anypony help her?”

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. The noise made Twilight spin around in time to see Pinkie Pie standing behind them, brandishing a sharpened cake knife. She was covered in blood, and her eyes had a bizarre red haze to them.

“Welcome to the party!” said Pinkie in a bright voice. “Let's play pin-the-tail-on-the-pony! But first – we'll need tails.”

Twilight found herself unable to move. Whether it was through fear, shock, or simply her dream playing out in reality, she couldn't say. Pinkie lunged toward her, the knife swishing through the air.

“Look out!” shouted Greyhoof, rushing forward and kicking Twilight with enough force to send her sprawling.

It was just in time; Pinkie swung the knife at Twilight and almost missed. Greyhoof fell to his knees and raised a hoof to his cheek, wiping away a streak of blood.

Pinkie bore a demented grin as she readied herself for another attack. “What's the matter? You don't wanna play? I thought everypony said my parties were to die for!”

Pinkie charged again, but this time, Twilight was ready. She loosed a blast of magic that sent the knife spinning out of Pinkie's clutches, embedding itself in a nearby wall with a dull thud. As she looked at her hoof where the knife had been, Pinkie's jaw dropped in surprise. Greyhoof's horn shimmered and Pinkie was pinned against the wall, her legs forcibly spreadeagled.

“Do it, Twilight! Now!” yelled Greyhoof.

Twilight closed her eyes and focused as much as she could. Her horn began to glow brighter and brighter as she mustered the necessary power to perform her mind-freeing spell. Pinkie rolled her eyes back in her head and laughed maniacally. Gritting her teeth, Twilight unleashed the magic directly at Pinkie's skull.

The magenta of Twilight's magic clashed with the blood red of Pinkie's eyes. The ethereal struggle continued for nearly a minute before they returned to normal and she shook her head. Once he was satisfied with the effects of Twilight's spell, Greyhoof released Pinkie, allowing her to fall to the ground. The room fell silent, save for the quiet sobbing of Scootaloo, her face still buried in Rainbow Dash.

Pinkie looked up and blinked. Her perpetual smile melted away as she surveyed the room. “Dashie...?” she said in disbelief. She glanced down and screamed when she noticed her hooves were covered in blood.

Standing up, Pinkie continued to stare at the table where Rainbow and Scootaloo lay. “Dashie? DASHIE?” She ran to them and stared down at the lifeless body. “Who did this? Why did they do this? What happened to me? WHAT HAPPENED TO DASHIE?”

Twilight and Greyhoof slowly moved to join Pinkie and Scootaloo, both of whom hugged Rainbow's corpse, each sobbing as hard as the other. Twilight rested her head on Pinkie's shoulder, unable to do anything except succumb to the grief that had already claimed Pinkie. Greyhoof sat back on his flank, at a loss for words. They remained in the cellar for what felt like hours, their tears flowing unchecked, as they mourned.

Greyhoof stared blankly at the table. Twilight sobbed uncontrollably. Pinkie wailed at the inexplicable death of one of her closest friends, and favourite partner in crime. Scootaloo – perhaps not even fully realizing what had happened – cried as the pony she had looked up to, and who had mentored her the most, lay cold and unmoving upon the table.