My Best Friend Is a Psychopath

by B_25

Crazy Makes for a Wonderfully Bizarre Relationship

Rainbow Dash is my bestest friend in the whole wide world! Her smile makes me warm. Her confidence drives my heart wild, and late at night, the curve of her rump makes me do things I'd better not say! All in all, every fiber of my being longs for Rainbow Dash, so why is it such a surprise that I want nothing more than to end her life?

Ponies like to call me crazy. Or strange. Or some other third thing. They say I never make any sense, which is silly because I make sense to myself. Other ponies just don't think like I do, which I don't blame them for; if they can't understand me as a party girl, then I very much doubt they'll understand me as a murderous girl.

Oh well. Here's the story of how I tried to kill Rainbow Dash.

Repeatedly.

“That cake coming anytime soon?” Rainbow's voice floats from the next room, muffled by the wall between us. “How long does it take to put some icing on? Starting to get hungry over here!”

I can feel myself beginning to smile, which makes me sorta happy, because usually, I have a hard time feeling stuff. Mommy always found it strange how I never cried at funerals, or that I was so insistent on trying to make them fun! The dead are dead, so they won't mind if we're trying to have a good time!

“Just a few more teeny-weensy seconds, okay?” I say over my shoulder, returning to sprinkling a gray powder over the cake. Once done, my hooves grab the knife sticking out from the small tub, smearing the cake with a layer of icing. “Aaaaand done!”

I hear her groan, or maybe it was a moan? Either way, soon enough, I would hear a thud, and I will have won this little game of ours. Picking up the tray with the cake, I place it on my back, turning to leave when, suddenly, I catch my reflection in the knife with smudges of icing, coming to smile at the flat mane mare on the other side.

I pick up the knife, decide to hide it in my puffy mane, then leave the kitchen and enter the lobby.

“About time you showed up!” Rainbow says upon looking to me, legs up on the table. She was the only one here, as I made sure to close shop for our little 'date'. “You ready to stuff your face with some cake?”

“I would love to!” I say, arching my back to the right next to the table, sliding the tray onto it. I look at her and offer my best frowny face—those are always the hardest to fake. “But I have this super-duper stomach ache from earlier, so I'll have to bow out from this one!”

“Oh.” Rainbow loses the smirk and takes her legs off the table. She's gone from confident to concerned, and I have no clue how she does it. “You should have told me you weren't feeling well. We could have canceled and done this some other time.”

If I could ever feel things, I’d probably feel them for Rainbow Dash. I come in close to nuzzle her cheek. “That's super sweet of you, but it doesn't hurt as bad now.” I pull back, smiling—something much easier to do around her. “Besides, spending time with my best friend will make all my pains go away.”

“Well, that makes me glad to hear.” Rainbow grins as her body became loose once again, turning back to the cake. “But I'll be even more glad once I finish eating this!”

How do ponies do that? Switch emotions instantly while remaining genuine? My heart beats a little faster as my nose catches the scent of her mane, her rainbow mane: she smells of raspberries. My hooves begin to touch her mane, the touch smooth as silk, the vibrant colors making me feel more alive.

I can't help myself. I can't hold back this tingly sensation that's making my hooves tremble with anticipation. Rainbow doesn't notice me, too busy rubbing her hoof and drooling over the cake, not even when I lift the back of her mane and expose her neck.

How I wish to kiss it, to nip and lick the fur. Those are just the teetering thoughts before the edge, and looking to my mane, I see the flat mane mare in the knife again. My body shivers with pleasure, of the delight that is to come, and I take the knife into my hoof with all the satisfaction I can muster.

I raise the knife into the air, catching the glint of the hanging lamp on its steel. It's to come. It's finally to come! Poison was such a cheap way to do the job, while work done with a blade is always backed by passion, a slow and bloody art.

I thrust the blade downward, toward the exposed neck.

Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks, or reality deciding to have fun, but moments before impact, I swear I saw those rose color eyes glance back at me, fully in the act, but looked away just as quickly. Rainbow then glided causally to the right. The blade meant to kill her flying right past her eyes.

I wonder what she saw in the knife, just before it sliced into the cake.

“I was wondering when you were going to do the honors!” Rainbow says, sitting back in her seat as I step away in surprise. She takes the knife, cutting off a slice and putting it on her plate. “I may be a messy eater, but I'm not going to eat a whole cake by hoof, y'know?'

I blink, lost for what to say. This doesn't happen often. “I-I get what you mean.”

She smiles. No, it's not that she smiles, but grins. I can't shake the feeling that I've lost in some way, that this is her silent deceleration of a point won. My heart is comforted by the idea, and now I want to kill her all the more.

“You going to take a seat or what?” Rainbow says to me, and I've no choice but to comply. “And how have you been anyway? Feels like it's been a while.”

“But you and I see each other almost every day!” I say, hunching forward. “You come in for your daily cupcake or what have you, and we chat from there.”

“Hmm.” She picks up the plate with cake, holding it before her muzzle. “Guess I do see my fair share of you, but at the same time, it doesn't feel like it.”

Rainbow seems interested by the thought, but my interest lies in her picking up the fork. She cuts a smaller piece of cake while in thought—a single bite needed to me to take back that point. She goes to stab it.

“That's it!' Rainbow says, putting the fork down and making me frown. She looks up at me. “I don't ever see you with the girls anymore! Or anypony else for that matter.”

“That's silly,” I say, but it's not. Ponies don't like being murdered, in fact, I'm pretty sure it's the most hated thing ever. Like it or not (but mostly the former), killing is something I just have to do, to give me that thrill I so desperately need. “I still hang out with just about everypony! It just, we all don't hang out together at the same time, not like how we used to, anyway.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Rainbow says, satisfied. She picks up the piece of cake with her fork, though she stares at it for some time. “Weird to think how distant we've all become.” She giggles, looking back to me. “And no offense to you, I hardly expected you and me to be the tightest once everything was said and done.”

That's because you're the only one I'm trying to kill. In fact, ever since she's caught my eye, Rainbow Dash has been the only one I've tried to kill. Those urges to kill, the need to feel alive, they've all been directed toward her—and somehow, she's managed to survive all my attempts and remain totally unaware.

It's because of Rainbow that I've not yet killed anyone else. Our little games of cat and mouse usually keep me under wraps, giving me the thrills that I need, and while I much enjoyed our time together, our relationship was soon coming to an end.

Rainbow lifted the cake to her mouth, licking her lips as she did so...

“Rainbow!” The door to the lobby slams open, and we both turn to see the sudden visitor. Fluttershy hovered in the air, mane, and coat drenched. “Whatever you do, don't eat the cake!”

I freeze, feeling the beating of my heart. Why was Fluttershy telling her not to eat the cake? Friends don't just burst in and ask you to stop eating unless something vital happened. I think, and I think, wondering where I could have gone wrong when my memory takes me back to the kitchen just prior.

Of course! I didn't check to see if I'd closed the window! Anypony walking or hovering by could have seen me dash the powder into the cake. My breath catches in my throat. If that were the case, then did that mean Fluttershy knew of my scheme?

My heart beats harder. My hooves tremble faster.

I'm alive again.

Fluttershy glances at me, her expression sad. It's like she's offering my some strange pity, and I return the expression with a similar look myself, reaching slowly for the knife once more. I could not be exposed here, even if it meant two of my friends 'had' to go missing.

“Chill, Shy!” Rainbow says as she puts the cake down, rising from her seat. “And stop flying in-doors! You're spraying water every time you flap your wings.”

Fluttershy blushes and lands. “Oh Rainbow, I'm so sorry!”

“For what?” Rainbow replies in an annoyed tone. “What's the matter with you?”

I also get up from my seat, knife clutched behind my back, the two too busy with each other to hear my hoof-steps. A part of me doesn't want to kill Fluttershy, just because of how innocent and cute she is, but I just can't risk my secret getting out there.

“I'm also sorry to you, Pinkie Pie,” Fluttershy says as she turns to me, making me still on my arrival. “I know how you and Rainbow purposely block out time every day to see each other, but I'm afraid the weather team accidentally started a downpour that's set to last for the next two days.”

“What!” both Rainbow and I say, but probably for different reasons.

“Those feather-brains can never get anything done without me!” Rainbow shakes her head in annoyance, causing Fluttershy to back up a step. She looks up, and with a sigh, closes her eyes. “And I don't mean you, Fluttershy. Just because you're bringing me the bad news doesn't make it your fault.”

Fluttershy smiles at this but looks to me. “I'm so so sorry again.”

“Don't sweat it, silly!” I say, backing up a few steps. I deposit the knife into my mane, then use the same hoof to wave her worries away. “It's like Rainbow says, it isn't your fault! Besides, we can hang out anytime anyways.”

“How about tomorrow during the afternoon?” Rainbow says to me, beginning to trot toward me. “We can have a picnic to make up for not eating the cake. How does that sound?”

“Hmm. I'd rather not a picnic,” I say as she now stands before me, the proximity driving me wild. “But we'll definitely do something outside, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Rainbow leans in for a quick hug, our bodies pressing together as the embrace becomes tight. She shivers the same way I do, like we've both just lost something big, and her voice is hushed when she speaks. “I promise I'll make this up to you, alright?”

I'm at a loss for words. Not because there's some excuse I have to make, or a lie to hide the truth, but because here's this other pony, one who knows me better than anypony else, and is trying to make up for my attempts against her life. Of course, she knew nothing of the latter, but it still touched my heart in a way that few others do.

“It's a promise, then,” I say, holding her just as tight back. My hooves rub across her neck, and my knife is still in my mane, but to do anything now is to scar poor little Fluttershy. We end the hug a moment later, my thirst for blood quenched for another day. “See you tomorrow?”

Rainbow smiles, pulling back. “See you tomorrow.”

The two then leave, and I watch them do so.

Staring at the cyan rump, I wonder if there's more to Rainbow that I don't know.

I couldn't tell you the exact moment I began my attempts at Rainbow's life.

It just sorta started happening one day, y'know? That my feelings for her grew stronger and stronger, the only kind of feelings that feel so distant. Watching her work out, hang out with friends, and read books in her bed only held me back for so long, until I needed something more.

I made it a policy to hug her as often as I could. To kiss her on the cheek whenever the moment allowed it. Grab, even slap at her flank whenever a joke would permit so, though those were always done for my pleasure.

But even those got to a point where they just weren't enough. I had to have more of Rainbow. I needed to do more with Rainbow—something or anything to help with these urges I was feeling. I may have tripped towards her with a knife, or something like that, and the act of nearly killing her finally set my heart at peace.

I love Rainbow Dash. There isn't a doubt about that.

And I'll be sad once she's gone.

“The Everfree Forest?” Rainbow says to me in disbelief, walking alongside me as we reach the outskirts of the town. She looks over at me. “Cool you wanted to spend some time together outside, but here of all places?”

“Don't act like you're not excited to be here,” I say in return as I rub my head against her neck, enjoying the contact despite how brief it is. “It's been a while since a big meanie has caused trouble for us, and I can tell you're getting just as bored as I am. Why don't we have a bit of an adventure this afternoon?”

Rainbow looks at me for a few moments, almost as if she's trying to read me, and I almost fear she will. The Everfree Forest, on top of being spooky, is a terrific place to kill somepony. From the cliffs to the timberwolves, there are many opportunities to be executed in the forest, and best of all, not many ponies come out this far, so you can kill and bury the body all in the same place!

“Guess I could stand to crank the danger factor up to eleven,” Rainbow says with a grin, braving the sight before us. “Life can get pretty dull if you don't pull some dangerous stunt now and again. Feels like putting your life at risk is the only way to feel alive, y'know?”

I grin as well, facing forward. “I couldn't agree more.”

That's how we carried on through the afternoon, through the forest that was always dark no matter the time of day. I feel like a metaphor could be made about that and myself, but I'm too busy trying to find a way to kill Rainbow Dash.

Branches surround us during our travels, some looking sharp enough to pierce the skin, and I wonder, with the right amount of push, would they be capable of impaling a mare? I toss the silly thought before it could take root—if the plan failed, then I would have a lot to answer for.

I keep plotting ways to kill Rainbow Dash, when I notice the thoughts themselves become about Rainbow Dash, which leaves me kinda confused. During our walk, I realize that it's uncommon to have your best friend suggest a stroll through a deadly woods, even more so for the other pony actually to go through with it.

I'd always grown up feeling like the odd one out. Ponies tend to keep normal, and since I don't know what normal is, it makes it harder for me to get along. I'd been born with urges and desires that I've been forced to deal with on my own, feelings of loneliness often surrounding thoughts of those calibers.

Yet, as I deal with my urges now, I feel the furthest thing from alone. My bestest friend is walking alongside me, aware of all the dangers and needing the same release from the boredom, and deep down inside, I can't help but think we share a few qualities—just none of the murder persuasion.

Time went by super quick in the forest.

Rainbow and I pretended to be scared—something I have to do a lot often than you think. There is fun in acting scared, in making things bigger than they really are, of screaming and galloping even without there being any danger present. I choose my emotions, my feelings, my thoughts, and being scared is my favorite one of all—it lets me connect with my friends better during fights and chases and that type of stuff.

Rainbow kept closer to me once we reached the center of the forest, and I had a super hard time figuring out just how scared she was pretending to be. Whenever we would scream and dash, she made sure never to fly nor leave my side, and the sentiment made me love her all the more as my eyes scanned for any stones to bash her head in.

“Going to level with you, Pinks,” Rainbow says, snapping me from memory to her adorable little face. “I think my heart is liable to explode if we have another jump scare. Mind if we ditch this place?”

We can't leave yet. I haven't killed her yet.

“But we've only been here for an hour or so!” I say in faux-surprise, settling my expression in subtle disappointment. “We still have to check out the bridge, or the castle, or the cliffs, or a crazy scary monster, or—“

“Exactly what I'm talking about,” Rainbow replies in a soft voice, hoof pressed against my lips. I give it a little lick, realizing that, one time too many, that I did not enjoy the taste of mud. “Don't get me wrong, danger is what keeps life interesting, but even someone like me knows to take it in moderation.” She pulled back her hoof. “I have no clue how you haven't cracked yet.”

That's because my mind cracked when I was very young, but I don't tell her that. Not only that, but today will be a total waste unless I do something! Time to shift the narrative—not literally, of course.

“Well, I was kinda, y'know, having a good time... with you,” I say, looking down at my hooves. “The forest isn't really so scary when you have your best friend around,” my voice hitches, which startles even me. “I guess the same isn't true for everypony.” I shake my head, slowly looking up at her. “Or maybe it isn't the same for you.”

Rainbow looks at me, eyes narrowed like she's searching deep inside of me for something, but of course, there's a glint in her eyes that can't be ignored. She's always been the most caring and understanding of our friends. Empathetic! That's the word I'm looking for. She'll never admit how much she cares, she always pretends to be the opposite of what she feels, but deep down inside, Rainbow will always have empathy for you.

It's sweet. It's one of the reasons that she and Fluttershy get along so well.

“Of... of course hanging with you is the bomb,” Rainbow says at last, dropping her head after her search. She's never be able to suspect me of much before feeling bad about doing so. “And, like, I'm so totally sorry if I gave you a different impression.” After a few moments, she gained the guts to look at me again. Her lip quivers. Oh, how it quivers! Just the sight makes me feel so good and bad on the inside. “Hanging out with you makes life so much more fun, Pinkie, and if you really wanna keep—“

Timberwolves can be so rude.

“What is that oh my—Pinkie get down!” Rainbow yells as I do so, a shadow flying over me as I look up into the underbelly of the wooden beast. It lunges at Rainbow, and for a moment, my heart beats faster than it should, and I reach a hoof out toward her without knowing why.

The gesture does nothing to help her, and yet I yell: “Dashie, be careful!”

Rainbow already turned herself around when the timberwolf was upon her, rearing her hindlegs into the air and bucking the sucker right across the jaw. Its head collapses to the ground in a mess of broken sticks, but Rainbow and I know better than to start celebrating early.

“Pinkie!” Rainbow says from over her shoulder, glaring at the multiple green orbs shining through the thick branches of the wood. She spins ever slowly, trying to assert dominance over the creatures. A wasted effort, of course, but the act itself is just so dang cute! “Get beside me. I'll protect you!”

She'll protect me? Even cuter!

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” I bounce happily (is there any other way to bounce) to her side. “Should I cower in fear or pretend to—“

“Look out!” My senses heighten as I feel something sharp just over my neck. Joy drains from my body as I stand perfectly still, a sinister grin growing on my muzzle as I've found my new catch of the day. It's been a while since I've got to hurt something, and with the timberwolf about to fall upon me, I'm given the excuse I need to finally cut loose.

No knives and no torture because a witness is present. But a few bucks and questionable stomping on sticks should set me straight. Or, at least it would have, but my charging friend may have other plans in mind.

“I got you, Pinks!” Rainbow cries as she flies at me, causing me to freeze, something that doesn't happen often. Her body goes over my head just as the timberwolf swipes down his claw, tearing across her back. “Nhhagah!'”

The paw rips across her back and throws her to the left, rendering her powerless as she glides through the air and crashes into a tree, an ugly thud resounding through the woods. Any air leaves my lungs as my hoof clutches at my heart, pulling tightly at my heart as I see her body slide down the bark.

Rainbow's body crashes and rolls across the ground. For whatever reason, my eyes are getting watery, and it's hard to see if her chest is moving. My hooves tremble as my body shake with this energy, with this hate that floods my system with its presence.

I walk forward to the timberwolves surrounding my fallen friend, my lips raising and revealing my teeth. One of the creatures goes to sniff at the body, which makes me grab at its tail and yank it down to the ground, slowly pulling it back.

The wooden beast looks at me in surprise, which quickly turns back to rage at seeing only a pony as its opponent. Big mistake, bucko. Before the timberwolf can hope to stand, I reach the start of its tail and stomp my hoof on it, grabbing the rest with my forehooves.

The creature whimpers in pain as the rage fades from its face. I begin tp pull on the tail, which makes it whimper even more, like it's begging for mercy after what it's done. It's so cute and so sweet—the best times are had when they finally start to beg.

Unfortunately for him, my friend/witness seems to be out of commission, so I'm allowed to be myself. I tug more at his tail and dig my hoof deeper into its base, delighting in all of the small cracks and distant whimpers, the snaps building and building until, finally, with a great pull and twist, the tail comes off in one massive cry of pain.

“Oh no you don't, mister!” I yell with glee as laughter spews from my lips, turning around with the large tail still clutched in my forehooves. The creature whimpers further as it tries to crawl away from me. Wherever did it get the idea that it could escape? “If this was a game just between us predators, then maybe we could have some more fun first.” I walk toward him and heft the tail higher into the air, slowly tilting it forward.

Standing before the head of the creature, my voice goes dark as I speak: “But no one, and I repeat, no one, is having fun—“ I thrust the end of the tail right into its mouth, splitting its jaw apart the further I drive it in “—when one of my friends get hurt!”

The whimpers of my prey reach their loudest, and after a loud snap, there is only silence in the woods. I break it with my giggles, hunching over the wooden torsos and tearing out the sticks with my hooves, every terrible snap a delightful tingle to my spine.

The act of tearing the timberwolf apart is like dissecting a body of pony—only the former is legal in certain cases. Defending your best friend with justifiable violence? Will be in the court's eye, but don't ask me how I know that.

As I dig further into the chest cavity of the timberwolf, I hear sniffing from behind me and get the most pleasant idea. Slowly, my hooves tear off the biggest stick to the chest, and in bringing it to my lips, lick along its length, turning my head as I do so.

I then see the two other Timberwolves; the two other Timberwolves see me, the stick of their brother held between my teeth. They whine at the act, but that only makes me bark like a dog, rising and approaching them while shaking my tail.

I take two steps forward; they take one back.

“Ruff ruff?” I sit down just before them, batting my lashes as my tail whips across my back. “Ruff ruff.” Then, I bite, hard, the stick snapping as the subsequent pieces fall to the dirt. “Ruff.” I look up at them, the excitement lost from my eyes as I stare deeply into theirs. I've caught them in my gaze.

One of them barks at me, but I only lick my lips and step forward. The two look at one another, and with a howl, they turn around and break into a sprint into the woods. After a few moments, one looks over their shoulder, gazing once more into my stern eyes as I stomp a hoof into the dirt—establishing my territory.

The timberwolves have no problem with that arrangement, though my grin fades as they disappear. With my urges expressed and a heavy breath sighed, I turn around to approach my fallen friend, frowning as I lower myself to her neck.

Dashie is laying on her side, back oozing with trickles of blood from her wood slash, but there isn't any damage to her wings. I closely examine her abdomen, gazing at every bruise and scratch, a strange hatred filling my heart once more at the sight of every swollen bump along her puffy chest. Without fear of consequence, I lay my head against her chest, nuzzling the fur despite the entangled dirt, kissing every bump with the strange love I have for this mare. Then, her body presses against me as she weakly breathes, causing me to pull back with a smile once more.

“Looks like you were too strong for those timberwolves after all,” I say as I look down at her, the sight reminding me of what's supposed to happen here. I climb over her body, sitting down on her belly as I lean forward, grabbing her neck with my forehooves. “You sacrificed yourself all so you could save your real opponent.”

Villains are supposed to get off on irony, but all those words do is make me feel... sad. I don't get it. I'm... I'm feeling something, something not forced or faked, something about this situation tearing me up inside.

I look into the face of my prey, the head of the sleeping pegasus held up by my hooves. Her face is contorted in slight pain, strands of rainbow mane covering her eyes as her sharp inhale ignites a spark inside my heart.

I love Dashie, but I love the idea of killing her even more. My hooves clutch tighter at her neck, making her choke and gasp for air, which causes me to lighten my hold. I'm empty on the inside, and I've accepted everything that I am, but never before have I struggled as I do now, never before have I felt something so... real.

“Why?! Why is it so hard to kill you!” I say to her while shaking her body, head limply rolling back and forth. “You've always evaded my attempts, and that's what always made our games so interesting. It's like you know, but you're unaware of this bond we both share.” I let her body drop and look away. “But now I've got you unconscious in my hooves, and that means I've won! Why can't I just take this victory?”

Then, my eyes settled on the bundle of broken sticks, and the confusion of my feelings is resolved by my logic.

“Is it because I didn't catch you myself?” I say, turning to look down at her once more. “That your good nature is the reason why I won the game, such an easy resolution? We've been playing this game for far too long, so it was bound that this would be the way you would be caught.” I press my hoof against my chest, feeling it beat against the resulting fate. “This game has to end soon, with one of us dead, that I can't deny.”

Standing back up, I step in between her hind legs. Lifting them up, I begin to drag her out the woods, a particular destination in mind.

“Our final game with be a fair one, Dashie,” I say as I trudge forward, feeling the breeze just before the storm on my coat. “And no matter who loses, it's been fun playing with you.”

Hanging lights are always a pain to have, especially in a secret basement that's the size of a dungeon.

You don't tend to get much light down below, so those lights are all that you have. Only two things move down here, my patients and those lamps, and it's tough to see the former when the latter is swinging all over the place! I'll dig my blade deep into flesh only for the light to fade, screams or cries flitting through the darkness, until the light returns and my knife resumes its journey, getting lost on its way when the darkness comes back.

Those knives have to make many journeys because of those lights, and I think my guests hate those hanging lights as much as I do.

But, for whatever reason, my current guest doesn't have much to say about them. Or anything for that matter. Rainbow Dash just laid back on the wooden table. All four hooves stretched and held by metal clasps, doubly so for her thin wing tips.

She woke up just a few minutes ago, and upon seeing the chains and the fire and the basement, all she did was blink.

“You've finally woke up! Was starting to think you weren't going to be doing much of that anymore.” I step before the table, Rainbow's confused gaze settling on me. She didn't say a word. “Now, you don't need to be scared.” Now my gaze became confused. “Okay, so maybe most ponies would be scared if they woke up chained up in a super scary basement, but I'm telling you not to be scared, so please start doing that.”

From Rainbow's blank expression, I couldn't be sure if she had started doing that. I took her silence as a confirmation of our arrangement.

“Now then, since we have that pie on the table, shall we get to the next part of the feast?” I trot behind her table to roll out, surprise surprise, another table—only the metal kind on wheels with big pointy things otherwise known as knives. “Eating a pie up all in one go is a big no-no at the dinner table, that is, unless you wanna get a great big tummy ache!”

I roll the table slowly into the peripheral vision of my trapped pegasus, waiting and waiting for her eyes to go wide and for her chest to hyperventilate, the clinking of metal as she thrashes her limbs about in a hopeless attempt to get free.

Sometimes, it's not even the act of killing that gets me going: it's the display of fear my prey gives as they realise exactly what's coming to them, and how they settle in despair knowing that no escape is possible. Other predators were always the quickest one to consent to their fates, but this is my first time performing the act with a pony.

A pony I've had my eyes on for far too long.

By the time I've rolled the table out, Rainbow has yet to move an inch. She continues to look at me, her gaze still confused, and however, behind it, there's a feeling of understanding, a feeling of... acceptance?

“Why aren't you scared?” I say upon leaving the table, stepping toward the one she's on. “I mean, I told you not to be scared, but ponies don't stop feeling things just because others told them to stop. Only ponies like me can do that.” I blink and shake my head. “You're not saying anything... why aren't you saying anything?!”

Rainbow continues to look down at me.

The silence drives me insane.

“Did you know all along, huh!?” My gaze bores into her eyes as I slink toward her. “Felt something was off about your pink friend and did some thinking of your own. How much do you know... how much do you know?!” I whip around to grab the knife from my table, turning and digging the blade into the wood between her legs.

“You're not scared,” I continue in a low voice, pushing the blade upward, cutting through the wood and nearing her thighs. I never break our gaze as I do so. “I can always tell when you're lying when you're hiding something, and yet, no matter how deeply I read you, I don't see any fear in your heart!”

The blade touches her thigh, drawing some blood and making its owner flinch, but that's the only reaction I get. Sighing, I yank the knife out from the wood, gliding it across her fuzzy blue belly, and stop it over her chest, where her heart beats against the flesh.

“You aren't scared, so that means you've always known my dirty little secret.” I begin to lower the blade, hoping to get a rise out of Rainbow, but she just keeps staring blankly at me. “But if you knew, if you always knew what I am, then why did you keep around?” I stop the blade, seeing my reflection in the metal; my expression was falling apart. “Why... why did you keep being my best friend!?”

I place the knife in my mane and bang my hooves on the table, sinking my head into the belly of my best friend. Her fur rubs against my own, filling me with this warmth... this warmth I just don't understand! I hiccup as my eyes begin to burn.

“It always... it always felt like that you knew, all along,” I say into her chest, too weak to gaze into the eyes of my prey. How did I become all so weak? “That we were playing a game of cat and mouse and you just pretended to be unaware.” I pull back from the warm chest, summoning all my strength to face Rainbow again. “A silly fantasy for a silly little filly.”

I wipe my eyes with my hooves, feeling a wetness dab against my fur. “To think I'd be this pathetic during my first session with a pony, during my greatest achievement!”

I blink my eyes, and in stumbling back, I realize what has become of me. I'm not entirely ready to believe, but as I sit and look deeply into my raised hooves, I finally come to see, the for the first time in my life, I've been moved to tears.

My greatest prey is the one to make me cry, and despite this sudden rush of distant feelings made real, I can't help but wonder this single question.

“Why?”

“Because it was fun,” I hear a voice say, and I look up into Rainbow's face. She offers me a small, pretty smile. “I always knew there was something strange about you, and in hindsight, that's kinda what drew me in. You were hiding something, and that made you interesting.”

I didn't have anything to reply with, other than to stand silently.

“You started acting weird around me after a while, more so than usual,” Rainbow says, looking down. “Wanting to hang out more. Looking at me when you thought I couldn't see. Thought you might have started developing feelings for me.”

I sit down so that our eyes meet again.

“It's why I chalked the first few attempts on my life up to being accidents,” she says, looking me straight on. “But all those times you tripped with a knife? The cake that tasted funny? Tree branches suddenly falling from the sky? Caught on to those happening pretty quickly and drew a conclusion.”

“So you knew all this time?” I repeat, blinking and tilting my head. “Why didn't you say something? To like, anyone?”

“That was the plan, but those don't always work out so well for me.” Rainbow raises her head and looks down at me, still smiling at me, at who I really am. “The moment I figured it out, I immediately went to go see Twilight about it, and, well, on the way there, I had time to actually think about all that had happened.”

Rainbow closes her eyes as she exhales a great breath, like she's revisiting some distant memory.

“All those times I nearly died flash through my eyes, making my heart beat with this excitement that I've never quite felt before.” Her wings begin to twitch. “The thrill of knowing your secret made me fly faster than ever before, a constant danger that working on the weather team can't produce. Every evade of your attacks, always being on guard for whatever you were cooking up—it produced a thrill I just couldn't get enough of.”

“Even when you knew,” I say, standing back up, “you still kept close to me? You wanted to be my best friend, best friend even after you knew my secret?” I step closer to her, my muzzle brushing against hers. “Ponies don't like me once they know me. It's why I play this little game of appearances... to keep the craziness at bay!”

“Then I guess I'm as crazy as you, Pinks.” Rainbow nuzzles me, the act bringing me... comfort? “Any other pony, any sane pony would have reported you to the princesses, or at the very least, kept away. But me?” She pulls back, looking deep into my eyes. “The very idea of being near you gets my heart pumping like no other pony can. The games we play make up for when the villains are away.”

“Dashie... what are you saying?”

“What I'm saying is, ah, guess there's no real way to put it.” Rainbow shakes her head, strands swaying along. “I love you, Pinkie. I may not be as twisted as you in the head, but I get the same amount of joy as you do from your games... from you trying to kill me.” She slams her head on the table. “Geez. We really are messed up.”

“You love me?” I say, pulling back from her body. “The psychopath that's been trying to kill you this whole time? Do you even know what happens next?”

“You kill me,” Rainbow replies without hesitation. “I accepted that the moment I woke up in this joint. In our games, we never cheated the other, and you caught me here and now fair and square. I knew what I was getting into when I kept playing, and this is the price I have to pay.”

I watch her for a while, our eye contact never breaking. I study her face, the rise and fall of her chest, even a few glances at her flanks, and yet, her body gives nothing away. She's telling the truth—her love for me wasn't a lie.

I want to believe her. I want to believe Rainbow. I've never shared my secret with anyone else, or anyone that's still alive for that matter. Not only that, but this is someone who accepts me for the pony I truly am.

Then, in looking into my mane, I find the way to remove all doubts. The knife prods out, capturing the reflection of Rainbow as I decide to play our final game.

Rainbow was willing to sacrifice her life for a pony like me. It's only fair I give her the same deal.

“I'm going to see if you're lying to me or now,” I say to her in a stern voice, but something else floods into it. “To see if you... really love me.” I hover over her wings and undo the chains, setting them free as they stretch upward. I look back into the rose color eyes. “I want you... I want you to embrace me, and I'll know for sure the truth.”

Then, I gave myself up to fate as I let my body fall onto her chest and belly, letting her bear all my weight as my face sunk into her fur. I stay like this for a few moments, feeling the destination through her body, before, finally, I feel her wings slowly wrap around me. My mane feels lighter, but I don't mind, giving myself fully into the warmth of the embrace.

“I love ya, Pinkie,” Rainbow says, patting my head. “And playing with you has been fun.”

I pull back from the hug, expecting it to be the last thing I ever do. Sure enough, I glance into my mane to find the knife missing, and look up and right into the wing hovering before my eyes, the knife aiming in-between them.

“My best friend is a psychopath,” Rainbow says after a while, and in pulling back her wing, tosses the blade aside. “And I love her for it.” She lies fully back into the table, and in doing so, closes her eyes. “Now then, since I made the same mistake I made in the woods, you've finally won. Let's get this over with.”

I look over to the left where the knife lays on the floor, walking over a moment later and picking it up. Turning back around, I gaze down at the body of Rainbow, and in knowing what I must do, bring the blade down onto the table.

I don't like Sundays.

You're meant to do stuff on Sundays. Like responsible stuff. Doing laundry and cleaning your room, all things that need to be done anyway, of course, but super annoying because everyone has the bright idea to do the same thing on the same day and it creates this weird and bitter traffic in the household.

“Sometimes, Pinks, I've gotta wonder if you know you're talking out loud,” I hear a voice float over from the other side of the bedroom, and I look up from my broom to Rainbow lying on my bed. She's flipping through a book. You already know the one. “If you hate cleaning so much on Sundays cause of everypony else, then why not just do all those chores on some other day?”

“Because I've always done my chores on Sunday,” I reply, walking towards the bed. “And I don't change my schedule for nopony!”

“How about me?” she says up to me, grinning. “Would you switch some days up for your marefriend?”

“That depends...” I lean forward and press my lips against hers, moaning at the plushness as I sink further into her. A few moments pass, and I pull up, filled with her warmth once more. “You get better at kissing me, and we'll see.”

“Fair enough.” I go to walk away, but her voice stops me. “Hey, Pinks?”

I turn around. “Yes?”

“Should I be worried about this anvil over my head?” I turn around to look at her, seeing my not so greatest invention, which is just an anvil held above the bed by some rope.

I smile. “Only slightly.”

“Fair enough.” Rainbow glances over at me. “So this makes for attempt twenty-four since we've begun dating?”

I smile even more, noticing the bright light by the window.