//------------------------------// // Coffee // Story: Diane // by Wisher //------------------------------// Chapter II The very next day, Twilight returned to the precinct. She came determined. She had promised herself today was the day she broke this opponent of hers. She had made the decision as soon as she had walked out of that dreadful room the last time. She believed that she had been unprepared yesterday, which was not usual for the mare who was known to keep agendas within agendas. She figured it was why she had a little panic attack during the interrogation. But not today, though. Today she knew what she was up against. She would let nothing break her balance. It was time to put an end to this madness. She walked in and saluted her brother ceremoniously, just like yesterday, and accepted another hot cup of coffee. She was going to need its fuel. She walked into the interrogation room, material and coffee in hoof. She headed straight for the table and sat down. Diane was already there. She sat back, hooves cradling the back of her head. Her challenging grin and piercing stare, unstable while always remaining fixed on Twilight, were still ever present. It was not a look of arrogance, but rather one of amusement, like a fascinated child watching a spider weave its web around alive prey, knowing there was no escape, and happy to admire the deadly situation while remaining untouched by it. When Twilight looked at the pink mare, she seemed to her as if she had not moved an inch since Twilight was last in the room. She wondered if Diane had slept, or if the insane thoughts raging inside her allowed her to sleep at all. Nonetheless, she took no apparent notice of the creepiness of the situation. She appeared calm and focused, as if this was a run-of-the-mill formality for her. She knew that's where true professionalism lay. Diane was slowly licking her lips again. Perhaps she had thought of the same analogy and pictured herself as the spider. Unmoved by the mare's theatrics, Twilight pulled out the tape recorder. "This is message log number 2 for case file num--" "With your host, the lovely Diane!" cut in the other mare. Twilight made no move for a while and kept an icy stare focused on her interrogation suspect. "Watch it," she said menacingly. Diane let out a sigh. "And here I thought you had learned to be fun," she said wistfully. Twilight paused and took the recorder again, never breaking her stare. "This is message log number 2 for case file number 165902. The date is August 13, 2012. Officer Twilight Sparkle conducting the interrogation of suspect Pinkamena Diane Pie. During yesterday's interrogation I tried to assert the suspect's situation at the time of the crime," Twilight continued. I have determined the suspect was present at the crime scene when the officers arrived there, which was shortly after the crime was reported by an anonymous tip to the police." "You're welcome," said Diane. There was a short pause before Twilight continued. "Furthermore, the suspect admits, in addition to being present at the crime scene at the time of the incident, to having substantial amounts of blood splattered on herself when she was found". A wiry grin formed on Twilight's face. "Early this morning a report given to me by the forensics' team established that the blood found on the suspect came in two types and was found to belong to both victims, confirming initial police suspicion," she said. Diane's grin grew wider as well. "The plot thickens!" she said with a signature cackle. Twilight put her stoic expression back on and continued speaking into the recorder. "This newly-found evidence seems to point clearly towards the suspect. However, this evidence is all circumstancial and cannot definitively be held against the suspect. While waiting for more substantial evidence, we will interrogate the suspect today about her psychological background and possible psychotic antecedents, so as to establish a possible motive the suspect might have to commit this crime". Diane raised a curious eyebrow at what she was hearing. "The questions I will ask the suspect do not have to be directly relevant to the case at hand, and neither do her answers. I will remind the suspect she has the right to plead the 5th amendment of the Revised Human Constitution of America if there are questions she feels might indict her against her will as the author of the crime if she answers them. Do you understand, suspect?" "I do," said Diane after a moment. She was trembling with anticipation. "Very well, let's begin then," said Twilight, setting down the tape recorder. "Question is, do you understand, Twilight Sparkle?" Twilight folded her hooves in front of her on the table, and gave Diane a quizzical and slightly condescending look, keeping her eyebrows raised and her eyes half-lidded. She was briefly reminded of yesterday's seance when she had asked the suspect if she would cooperate. "Running out of witty retorts?" asked Twilight. "Don't worry," said Diane. "As long as you have patience, I'll have witty retorts. I expect them to run out at some point, though." "You wish," replied Twilight. Diane giggled. "Oh don't play dumb," replied Diane. "I can feel it, Twilight. Slowly but surely, your patience is seeping out of you like the sand in the hourglass. Not one you can flip. The fatal kind." Twilight said nothing. This psycho picked the wrong toy to play with. Diane spoke again. "Allow me to rephrase that," she said. "What I meant to say was, do you fully grasp what your little introduction entails?" "You seem to infer that there's something amiss in my understanding of the situation?" said Twilight. Allow me to rephrase that: bitch please, she thought. "Yes there is. You want to talk solid evidence, motives, confessions...?" There was a long silence in the room. "But you will get nothing," whispered Diane. "Nothing. What do you think? That I'm some kind of complex puzzle for you to unravel? That you will make a map of my thoughts, and use it to find a nugget of truth? A motive, a quirk of reasoning that will give you the key to how to shut me down like a machine? That I live on a parallel plane of thought from this Pinkie friend of yours, and that you can switch from one to the other with the right words?" she said, sounding incredulous. Twilight winced internally at hearing this terrible mare speak the name of her beloved friend with such venom. "Well you won't. You know why? Because I'm not some kind of psychological wonder. There is no maze in my head you can explore through to the truth, because the truth is, I'm just who I am. It's that simple. You can have many scornful names and ideas for me, you can disapprove of my sole existence, but you will not change me. Believe it or not, I am the mare you knew who worked at Sugarcute Corner. My hair is different, and my mood is a little more serious, but I am, nonetheless, who you are looking for. Think of it as a big mood swing, and not a curiosity of the sentient mind. I am Pinkie Pie, Twilight, a little more mature and less goofy, but Pinkie Pie nonetheless. And you will respect me as her, and not as some monstrous stranger, or an imposter." Twilight simply stood there, as she was before. Diane was actually demanding respect, like a heartfelt apology out of Twilight. She could say she was Pinkie all she wanted, the real Pinkie would never have forced that kind of selfishness and cruelty upon others. "I don't have a deeply thought-out motive, or a subconscious drive for murder that you think escapes my control and that you can point out for me. And as for substantial evidence? What's a little blood going to do? You don't have a shred of evidence you can actually use against me, and if your boys haven't found it now, they will never, do you hear me, never find it." Twilight Sparkle was on the verge of tears. Outside she looked unperturbed. But inside she was shook up, no matter how much she had woved not to be. This mare had a way of getting to her. Here she was, spitting poisonous words about how she was legitimately a pony, her friend Pinkie, and that she would just have to put up with her. But as the tears welled up inside Twilight, she forced them down with a long draw of breath. I guess this is what they call tough love. Edging a little closer to the table, she spoke, barely above a whisper, and she sounded as cold as could be. "Do you seriously expect me to believe all this drivel? That you're Pinkie Pie, the one I know? A little more mature, is that what you call taking over someone's soul? You could tell me forever that I'm supposed to accept you as Pinkie Pie. But Pinkie Pie is a kind soul welcomed by all. Not a cold ruthless psychopath, who murders others and brags about it. You aren't half the mare she is." Diane giggled. "There you are accusing me of murder again with nothing in the world to back you up. What's the point? The only way you'll ever get me behind bars is if I tell you I did it, right here, right now." "Did you?" said Twilight. Diane set her hooves on the table, squaring her shoulders, just like yesterday. Advancing closer to Twilight, teeth bared in a wide smile. "I plead the fifth," she whispered. Fuck your fifth, thought Twilight. She so desperately wanted to hiss the words at the mare front of her and violently beat and choke her out of Pinkie's body. A whirlwind of hatred was whirring inside of her, making her convulse in pure anger. "Yeah... well," said Twilight in a shaky, barely audible voice that made Diane shiver in delight. "I need to use the restroom." And with that she got up nervously and trotted out the door. - - - Shining Armor bit his lower lip. It was still late morning, but he felt as if the exchange had been going on forever. He felt deeply for his sister; it must be one tough ride confronting evil in the form of a person so close to oneself. He could also sympathise with her as he had briefly met Pinkie at his wedding. She struck him, even though their encounter was brief, as the type of mare that was the embodiment of sheer joy. She had been the soul of the party that night. One way or another, Pinkie was not a mare you just forgot about. But she was a mare of extremes. As bubbly and sweet as she was, she was not immune to breakdowns like everyone else. In fact, thinking about it, Shining assumed Pinkie would be in fact the type to be more prone to breakdowns than anyone else. When she no longer had the strength to shine as a beacon of happiness on everyone... her nerves got the better of her, crushing her mind in like the storm does the garden shack... and leaving in its wake a soul so unstable, and yet so strong, it overtook her personality. Whoever was this beast Shining was looking at, it was not Pinkie Pie. He didn't have to be an element of harmony to know that. As he examined her, Shining Armor noticed something about the mare. She was doing absolutely nothing, laid back and cradling her head in her hooves. And yet... he felt some kind of concentration about her, a certain intense focus. She... She was staring intently at something on the table. - - - Twilight had gone fuming inside the bathroom of the precinct. But now she was stable again, ready to further the interview, if it could still be called like that. She found out that repeatedly bucking the wall made for effective therapy. Taking one hell of a deep breath, she stepped back inside the interrogation room. Sitting down in front of Diane, she was ready to attack her with full force this time around. Perhaps she's sitting back right now, she'll be buckling over in mercy when I'm done with her. "If you want to play games, let's play games," said Twilight. "Ooh I love games. Especially mind games," said Diane. Letting out a small sigh, Twilight spent a while plotting what she would say next. She hoped that either saying nothing for once would destabilize Diane somewhat, giving her an opportunity to strike, or that Diane would do the talking and she would wait for the perfect opportunity. But as the silence drew on Twilight was finding herself at a loss for words, and Diane's insolent stare was not helping. Perhaps a little coffee would kickstart her memory. She lifted the mug and brought it to her lips, taking a warm and comforting slurp. As soon as she did so, Diane reacted. Slowly, her lips stretched into the widest, most devilish grin Twilight had yet seen on her face. Looking back at Diane while she was drinking, Twilight immediately picked up on the smile. She frowned a little, irritated at how stupid the mare in front of her looked. "What?" she asked rudely. Diane didn't budge. Her silly grin grew even wider, if that was possible. Her eyes were boring holes into Twilight's. "What? What is it?" Twilight asked impatiently. "If you got something to say why don't you just say it already? You like chatting don't you?" The prolonged silence was making Twilight uneasy. She had planned for this situation to go the other way. She couldn't lose so soon. She was about to send the protocol to hell and lash out when Diane finally answered her. "How's the coffee?" she asked, with a brief glance at the mug. Her voice sounded drained and raspy, and it was high-pitched, as if she was so jubilant about something she had lost her voice to it. Twilight was quite taken aback. Subconciously she clutched the mug a little tighter. What about her coffee? "What?" she asked. "The coffee. How do you like it? Is it to your taste?" said Diane, sounding more psychotic than ever. The gastly display was making Twilight quite alert. Why was Diane suddenly so interested about her cof-- It dawned on her, horribly. She'd left the mug in the room while she was out... It was returning to her at full speed, that sense of dread and utter loss of control she had had yesterday. She was spinning again. "Diane, did you spike my coffee?" she asked, with the same pitful and vulnerable tone to her voice than yesterday. Only it was worse than yesterday; yesterday she had tried to keep her focus even though it was difficult. Now she wasn't even trying anymore. Panic took an angry hold of her, and she felt her insides churn, waiting in dreadful anticipation for something to attack her guts while she witnessed as Diane's evil smile grew more cruel by the second. But her brother had been watching! Looking at the glass pane, Twilight almost yelled. "Did she do anything to my cup?!" No, she didn't move an inch! sounded the voice of Shining Armor through her concealed headphone. He sounded very afraid as well. He proceeded to call an ambulance immediately. Twilight looked back at Diane. "Wha... What did you do? What the hell did you do to me?" she yelled. It would've sounded full of rage, if Twilight hadn't been so mortified right now. There was a terrified, shrill edge to her voice that made her yelling sound like a plea for mercy. Diane giggled, a laughter that echoed insanely in Twilight's head. "Oh, a little something sweet never hurt a soul, after all," she said casually. Twilight was making herself positively deaf with all the screaming she was doing inside her head, and the sheer whimpering she was making in the room. Her trembling and squirming were destroying her ability to reason, and she was sweating so much you could make out the glistening of her coat, despite being at room temperature. She writhed and convulsed, more from the fear of not knowing if she was feeling the effects of a poison than from what she imagined being poisoned would feel like. "N- no, no... no, no no no, n- no... no, no!" was the only thing her mind could translate into words, and she shuffled her hooves uncontrollably and looked about her with frantic eyes for nothing in particular. Diane stood there, erupting in a sick fit of cackling. "Now!" she suddenly said, and swiftly grabbed hold of both of Twilight's forehooves, resting them on the table, causing her to cry out. Diane's touch was ice cold and made her whole frame spasm violently. "Now you see," said Diane loudly, outlining every word, as if giving a stern lecture to a disobediant child. "Now you see, what a hard boat to keep afloat sanity really is, Twilight Sparkle. If you want to toy with my brain and play games with it, you had best be prepared to pay that sanity as a price!" "Please!" pleaded Twilight. She was crying profusely now, cold despair glinting in her large eyes. Her lower lip quivered as she moaned. She was begging Diane for mercy. But Diane was no longer smiling. "You're all about going into my head aren't you? Then ask yourself this question, Twilight Sparkle! Is it you, that is here inside my head? OR IS IT ME, THAT IS INSIDE YOUR HEAD?!" Twilight broke free in a terrified yell as Diane finished roaring at her with bloodshot eyes. Instantly she galloped at full speed, still yelling uncontrollably through the corridors of the precinct, like a rat in a maze. Shining Armor managed to get a grip of his struggling sister, who no longer recognized neither her surroundings nor the one holding her. Her brother managed to get her inside the ambulance, with help from a man or two, whose doors shut out her violent cries before driving off. He stood there, utterly shell-shocked at the fast and unexpected development. His ears were whistling, blocking out most of the noise around him. But he could still hear from afar, a certain pink mare laughing uncontrollably in a cackling guffaw, as she was being dragged back unceremoniously to her holding cell. - - - As the sky grew dark, Shining Armor escorted his sister, draped around in a blanket, out of the hospital. He had gone there immediately after they had called. The doctor's diagnosis was surprising: There was no trace of poison or any other substance in Twilight's body. Nothing was wrong with her from the start. She'd just been subjected to psychological torture, and had had a nervous breakdown and a panic attack. Shining Armor was flooded with relief, thanking the doctor eagerly for his help. Twilight also thanked him, but her words sounded dull. Her movements and behaviour were completely numb, and her eyes stayed unfocused and hollow. She looked drained by fatigue as they walked slowly to her flat. Shining offered to stay for the night, but she said she'd be fine on her own. Gingerly, Shining wished her well and set to home himself. She walked in the appartment, hanging her coat up on a hanger. She went to bed slowly and without a word. She lay down on the mattress. She did nothing but stare at the ceiling for a while. And then she cried for all she was worth.