Pinkamenace II Society

by jmj


The Cold, The Dark

S3 Chapter 2



Pinkamena had been following the winding river for a long while. She had stumbled through the night until the taxation on her weakening body had become too much to bear. She had slept in a thicket of willow trees, their stringy foliage blocking out the cruel sun as she rested. She awoke to the orange glazed world of evening and an incredible pain pierced her brain. The pink and melted flesh pony didn’t understand completely her horrific wounds; therefore, the dehydration headache was unexpected.



Her throat felt as dry and rough as sandpaper and she waded into the gentle waters of the river that cut its way through the landscape of Equestria, feeding the crops and bringing a fresh source of water to many town, including the accursed town of Ponyville. The water was cool on her agitated flesh and a sort of pleasurable pain on to the magnificently marred mass of melted mess that was over half of her body. The cool liquid soothed while the flow agitated what was left of the traumatized nerves. Pinkamena winced and grit her teeth, submerging her body into the river and noticing an oily sort of sheen drifting from her hairless regions. She didn’t know what that meant and made a discouraged face.


Her body was probably dying.



As she let the water wash away the blood stains, filth, and grime, Pinkamena allowed herself to shiver into the recesses of her mind. She had to operate on the principle that her time was limited. She should have been dead already and the trip, thus far, had been incredibly draining on her body. She was weak, far weaker than she had been before but something was propelling her forward. She couldn’t relax, images of Applejack danced behind her eyelids. All the many ways she could die vied for attention in Pinkamena’s mind. A bullet was too easy. She needed to hurt more than that. She needed to be gutted and shown her dripping intestines. Maybe Pinkie could twist some into links and stuff them down her gullet. The thought made Pinkamena want to touch herself. The flames had taken away any possibility of pleasure but, with a frightening grin, she did so anyway. Her nethers felt like strips of overcooked meat and could be likened to blackened strips of sizzling bacon. She didn’t contemplate the suddenness of this lust. She had never taken to flights of sexual deviancy or lust and had rarely touched herself before but it didn’t matter, now she the drifting images of disembowelments, live skinning, and limb removal turned her on desperately.



The pain spurred her senses forward and recharged her aching body. She sank into the river until the water reached her nostrils, tendrils of dark pink mane winding back and forth like snakes in the easy stream. Pinkie groaned and bubbles escaped her mouth in swirling ephemeral arcs seeking the surface. She didn’t regret her sick fantasy or question the mind that had suggested the act. Soon she finished and left herself throbbing from the fondling of the damaged tissues. She opened her eyes and looked to the heavens to find that the evening had passed and a new moon had begun to rise.



She was living on borrowed time. Most ponies didn’t see past the twilight of their lives, age or sickness bringing about their ends in a timely manner but Pinkamena’s desire for revenge was driving her natural life into unnatural final hours, the extinguished evening gave birth to the shades of night. She had no way of knowing how long her ruined body would continue to draw breath but it would be enough. It had to be. She wouldn’t let herself die without seeing Applejack’s broken corpse laying before her. Pinkamena shivered in the river’s cool temperature and felt the pain in her head dissipating. Something had told her she needed water and she had obeyed her body’s wordless demands. If it would be there when she called upon it, she could obey its needs. She sucked the sweet water into her mouth and drank until she thought her stomach would explode. Her thirst seemed unquenchable but the need to drink finally passed.



The burned mare thought of floating the river but wanted to strengthen her body. Her energy had returned far quicker than she imagined and somewhere inside she felt a boiling strength lying in wait for her beckoning. It confused her but she could feel it deep within.


She closed her eyes and dunked her head under the water, her senses jumbling from the mumbling noise of the flowing river. The traumatized flesh of her face screamed in pain and pleasure at the same time. The odd sounds coming to her ears seemed augmented, deranged. They reminded her of her injuries and a smile cracked across her submerged face, thin streamers of blood turned to smoke trails beneath the water’s surface.



“Pinkie…”



The word snapped across the ridges of her mind, almost drowned by the call of the flowing water. Pinkamena dared to deny it.



“Pinkie…” the word echoed again, watery and gurgling, but much stronger than before.



She couldn’t deny it this time, a chill ran through her spine and she snapped her eyes open underneath the surface of the water. Her vision blurred from the moving water but something was stirring from the cold, dark riverbed. Something faintly yellow grew from between her legs and panic struck the mare. She kicked and broke the surface of the water, suddenly needing to escape the thing that was haunting the river. Pinkie splashed and tore from the water, causing her damaged regions to renew a light welling of blood. Her breathing became ragged and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. Pulling herself onto the bank, the marred mare turned to regard the disturbed river.



A yellowed form threatened to break the surface, features hidden by the current, but streamers of pale pink and riverbed black rolled from it. A strange blackness filled a pair of ovals in the circular shape.



“… save me, Pinkie. Please. It hurts …”



Pinkamena shook her head viciously, trying to gather her thoughts and banish this vision. It couldn’t be real. Fluttershy … she was dead.



Pinkamena’s heart thrummed like a sickly engine, coughing yellowed gouts of smoke as it struggled to churn. Taking her head in her hooves, she screamed to release the tension tormenting her fragmented sanity. It had to be in her head. Fluttershy was dead. She couldn’t hurt anypony now, not that she ever would have.



Pinkie cracked her eyes open slightly, a grinning pastel yellow face greeted her with eyeless sockets and the murk of the riverbed dripping from the evil smile less than a foot away. Her heart stopped in her chest and her voice caught in her throat as the scream stuck in her vocal chords.



“Kill her, Pinkie! KILL HER!” Fluttershy sounded gravelly and rough. The flesh of her lips had melted away and much of her fur had gone to smoke, the disfigured remains emblazoned with an expression of rage and hatred.



Pinkie slammed her eyelids shut and muttered to herself, words of comfort from some time long past, if asked she could not remember them, but they came from a time of joy so far in the past that her waking mind could not divine the source. Her eyes popped open again; the vision was gone, leaving only the slowly moving river and the light of the early night.



She needed to move. She couldn’t waste her time here in the river. Applejack was waiting and Fluttershy had to be avenged. Nothing occupied the river except the shades of night that colored all the world. Pinkie gathered her wits and began following the river once more. A sickening grin tore across Pinkamena’s face and she pressed her body for speed, visions of blood pouring through her mind.



***



Sweetie Belle was doomed. Even as she hugged her dearest friend, Apple Bloom, close in the night for comfort she could tell her soul was dying. It would wither and turn to ashe, leaving a remorseless beast to terrorize the world. Sweetie hadn’t been able to sleep after finding her flowers wilted and dead. They were her, a reflection of her core nature and without their aid and nourishment, she would become dead inside, embracing the wicked thoughts that threatened her teetering sanity. Her struggle for inner peace was waning, the talons of what she had done, and who she was becoming dug into her heart, corrupting it. What bastions of hope still held within her frame? What external aid could be found on Sweet Apple Acres? Everything that dwelled here was already corrupted by power and greed. Almost … Sweetie clutched Apple Bloom’s sleeping body closer, the gentle warmth helping to push back the terrible thoughts that tormented the unicorn filly. Sweetie was thankful Apple Bloom was a heavy sleeper and pressed as closely as she could into her friend, the warmth of her soul biting back the advances of the blackness eating away at Sweetie’s heart. Tears fell from her eyes and she sobbed softly into the thick red mane of her friend.



Apple Bloom was a write off. She couldn’t tell her what she had done. Everything about the farm was a secret to the filly and it would destroy her to learn the truth of her family business. Sweetie couldn’t subject her to that. It would kill the innocent heart that beat within her gentle friend.



Not bearing to release the tiny light in the dismal shadows, Sweetie clung to Apple Bloom tightly, thinking of the good times they had and would have now that Scootaloo couldn’t stop them.



Like when they had built the fort out in the forest after the tree that held their clubhouse had fallen, leaving their club destroyed. Apple Bloom and Sweetie had been sizing up the possibility of adding windows when Scootaloo had spilled paint all over Sweetie on “accident”. It had taken weeks to get that blue stuff out of her coat. Well, that bitch got what was coming to her. Too bad her body hadn’t been found yet. She would have lined up right above her motionless face and took a great big … The thoughts just came naturally now. Even her attempts at pure imaginings were invaded by the darkness taking her.



Sweetie buried her face into Apple Bloom’s mane again and wept, her forelegs, wrapped around Apple Bloom, cinched like a noose of insecurity, the only anchor to the sweetness of purity lost.



“Ack … Sweetie. Yer squeezin’ me too hard.” Apple Bloom’s weary voice was full of sleep and thick with murmurs. She struggled from the pressure Sweetie was applying.



Sweetie released her friend but pressed up against her even closer; she needed the comfort Apple Bloom provided. “S … sorry.” Her voice cracked; the attempt to hide that she had been crying failed miserably.



Apple Bloom, ever the true friend, rolled to look at Sweetie in the darkness of the extremely early morning and reached out with her foreleg, brushing lightly Sweetie’s cheeks. “Y’alright, Sweetie? Are ya cryin’? Did ya have a bad dream or somethin’?”



It was a good enough excuse and Sweetie nodded gently a she spoke, “Yeah. It was really scary. A monster got me and was turning me into one too.” How true her statement was Apple Bloom would never know.



“My stars! That sounds scary.” The sleepiness seemed to have disappeared from the Apple filly’s voice and she wrapped the unicorn with her forelegs, hugging her tightly. “It’s alright. We all have bad dreams sometimes. They’re just nightmares though. When we wake up we’re back in bed, safe and sound. Ah’m here anyway, so y’all don’t have ta be scared. If somethin’ came for you it’d have ta get me too.”



It was too much for Sweetie at the moment and she began to bawl in Apple Bloom’s hooves. She laid her head against Apple Bloom’s soft chest and cried while her friend held her tightly. After a few minutes, her tears stopped flowing and she looked up to the orange eyes of the earth pony. “Sorry we kind of argued yesterday. You’re my only friend, Apple Bloom. If a monster came for you, it would have to eat me first.”



Apple Bloom chuckled softly and kissed Sweetie’s tiny white horn, a small spark of greenish light sparked and the pair laughed. “You’ve always been my best friend, Sweetie. Ah miss Scoots, but Ah’m glad yer still here. Ah might have been a might harsh with ya. Ah’m sorry too.”



“Okay then. We’re both sorry. Let’s just be friends.” Sweetie, invigorated by the genuine love Apple Bloom was sharing, felt as if she may be able to finally get some rest and wanted to take advantage of it.



“Friends!” Apple Bloom settled down and cuddled her unicorn friend. Sweetie was probably just upset about Scootaloo leaving to and had said mean things because she didn’t know what else to do. “Y’all have lots of friends here, Sweetie, Applejack, Big Mac, Twilight.”



Twilight … That name was hard to think about after what Sweetie had done to Spike but Apple Bloom was right, Twilight still was her friend and was trying to make Ponyville a happy place again. The thought drifted through her closing consciousness like bread bits on a river, soggy, lonely, and stalked by those that dwelled just below the surface.



***



Twilight couldn’t sleep. It had become a regular event for her sense the massacre at Sugar Cube Corner. Dotting the nights with momentary glimpses of sleep, Twilight would stir and roll in her bed, images of her friends’ flesh popping like boils filling the space between consciousnesses.


This night, like most, Twilight Sparkle stared from her bed out of the window. The pale softness of the moon withheld comfort from the mare as she sought anything to cure her seething guilt. Hateful images crawled through her head like spiders, their prickly legs piercing the ridges of her brain; she had to get out before they drove her crazy. Twi rolled from her bed, legs threatening to topple for a moment, wobbling tiredly until they bore her weight. She was exhausted and the circles under her eyes were testaments to the increasingly few hours she had been sleeping over the last month. She realized things about herself, the facts of who she was bubbling up like coffee in a percolator; Twilight summed her findings in few sentences; she was highly intelligent but incredibly foolish, she missed her friends, and she was falling apart from guilt. She sighed and trotted to the door, gingerly opening it and grimacing at the loud squeak of the hinges. Fresh air may do the unicorn some good and the clear night sky may aid in her fragmented state.


Twilight eased through the house, each step the fall of a feather as she passed by the other bedrooms, especially that of Applejack and took special precaution not to trespass across one particularly squeaky board. While she was free to wander the farm, she didn’t wish to cause undue arousal to her movements or speculation on her motives. The unicorn quietly found her way to the main entrance of the farmhouse and stepped out into the cool breeze of the bruise-colored night.


***


Against her preference Pinkie had let the river carry her along her way. The ease of travel upon the bank had faltered as she came into the woods of the Everfree. The primal nature of the forest had forecluded a voyage by hoof, the verdant undergrowth, urged by the ready source of life-giving water, had long since conquered the banks of the river and spread like an infectious disease through vast sections of the wilderness. Pinkamena, once again craving the refreshing coolness of the river, was forced to swim in its depths. She didn’t know her body required an almost constant course of liquid ingestion due to the grievous burns that perpetually oozed a brown, viscous liquid. Her body, while resilient was just coming to understand that it suffered direly of dehydration. Her spirit could dismiss this consumptive need for short periods of time but a severe and draining exhaustion waited in the boughs, eager to coax her into the resource so badly needed.


Pinkie had much to learn but understood on some instinctual level that water was the essence of her revival. She eagerly drank until her stomach ached, which wasn’t long considering it had not digested solid food for nearly a month. The droop in her eyelids and blackness encroaching at the edge of her vision faded as the black water began to usher her prostrate body downstream. She barely had the wherewithal to keep her head above water for the first few moments but her wits rapidly improved and she edged closer to the bank, seeking a sturdy root to aid in her return to the land. No matter how entangled the brush may be, she was more comfortable on land than in water. What she had seen before, the depth dwelling creature that resembled her friend had jarred even her frayed senses.


Her hooves tangled in some small, spindly roots and, with her strength returned, the ruined mare fought the current to free herself from the water.


A voice gurgled, a haunted bubbling noise from the black muck at the bottom of the stream.


“Trying to run away?”


It was the same tone, the same eerie hollowness from before and Pinkie craned her neck from side to side to find its source. The thought crossed her mind that it may be in her head but she scoured the rolling surface anyway while clinging to the vines. “Fl … Flutters. I didn’t … I didn’t mean for this to happen. I … I loved you.”


Pinkie twisted in the water anticipating an attack. Did this hostile spectre of her loving friend not understand her goal? Her only reason for continued existence? To bring about the cruel punishment of the one responsible for their misfortune and demise. She did love Shy and sought their persecutor, so why did she appear in this twisted, horrific form and impede her road?


“Love? Yes, perhaps I believe you. I sense your hatred, Pinkie. It’s heat is much like the flames that swallowed me up. However, it is YOUR fault that my soul roasts with every passing second.” The voice sounded like phlegm in the back of a dying pony’s throat, cutting the air supply but thick with swampy gasps. “I helped you when I knew it was wrong. You led me to this state.”


Her eyes pinched shut as something swirled along her stomach, rising like some nightmarish ghast from the colorless river, her weakness was the failure of that other life. The life in which Pinkie had dared to find happiness. She felt a sudden and intense heat as the water surrounding her began to boil. Like the warnings of fifty angry snakes came a loud hiss as Fluttershy rose from the water, the hellish heat of her burning body evaporated the water and caused several blistering pods of Pinkie’s broiled flesh to pop. Pinkie’s eyes remained clamped tightly, not wanting to see the thing her friend had become.


Though the mare attempted to pull away, the thing seemed to somehow draw her back. Its voice, choked and bloody, spoke gouts of stinking smoke into her face. “Behold me, Pinkie. You claim to love me, open your eyes and see what your love has wrought!”


Pinkie forced her eyes open to view the smoldering remains of her best friend. She gasped, the empty scorched sockets of Flutters’ eyes peered through her and into the realm beyond. Her once beautiful face was little more than deeply charred chunks of meat clinging to a sizzled skeleton. A few patches of yellow fur or pink mane clumped and swayed in the steaming water. Her bare teeth gleamed with the brackish stain of smoke and her words seemed to pour around them in puffs of poisoned smoke.


Pinkie, confronted with this evil, shivered in the now boiling water, fear taking her. “I’m sorry, Shy. I will …”


“You will die!” The nearly cremated corpse almost seemed pleased to spew.


“No!” Pinkie, from somewhere, began to grow angry. She would prove Fluttershy wrong. Natural or otherwordly, nothing would hold Pinkamena back. The shock of her friend had struck her, yes, but she was not who she had once been and a vile grin tore across her mutilated face. She would not die, not yet. She had work to do.”Not … not until I have Applejack’s head.” Her words grew cold, her demeanor changing. The sympathy for her friend replaced with rage. “She killed you, I didn’t and I will make her pay. For you. For me. For everyone she hurt.”


The charred skeleton seemed to grin, a deep satisfaction filling the voice as it spoke, “Yes. Let go of those feelings of friendship. Only the hatred, the thoughts of violence and revenge will carry you to your task. Applejack cannot be taken if you let those tender feelings for who I was cloud your mind. Bury them, and let the lust for her blood consume you. That is how you will prove your love for me.”


Pinkamena began to laugh, releasing her legs from the roots and letting herself be swept away by the current. It was as if by a flip of a switch that the blood rage kicked in. Pinkamena chuckled to herself, renewed and brimming with vigorous thoughts of sadistic pleasures.


The water once again became cool on her body and she turned to look for the body of her friend but it must have submerged once more. She giggled madly and lost herself to the images of feasting upon Applejack’s entrails. The ruined mare was not afraid of any living pony, any dead pony, or of any being in the known or unknown universe. She was the nightmare. She was the monster. She was the walking funeral for those who got in her way.


She drifted the winding river, the river that cut a divide in the Everfree Forest, the river that once fed the apple-laden trees of Sweet Apple Acres.


***


Twilight lifted her head to the cool breeze hoping the gentle draft would soothe the blistering heat within her skull. The wind was gentle and unbiased, rolling unseen through nature and gingerly setting upon the pastoral home of the Apple Family. Hate wasn’t in its nature and Twilight felt it dance whimsically through her mane, leaving a colder trail across her cheeks where her tears had spilled. What had happened to Pinkie and Fluttershy hadn’t been her fault. Yes, she had thrown the flaming utensil that engulfed Sugar Cube Corner but it had been under duress; Applejack would have killed her if she had hesitated and refused. Her friends were already dying inside, Big Mac and JackSlap had nearly finished them off, Twilight had acted only to save herself.


It haunted her. Given the chance to relive that moment, she would have let Applejack end her life. Unfortunately, the past was irredeemable; those mistakes could never be altered and she hoped that her continued study into the magic of friendship may offer some form of atonement in the future.


The farm, at night, was beautiful. The barren hills, masked by the ambivalent curtain of darkness, almost seemed hospitable. Twilight was no longer under watch, Applejack had broken the unicorn’s sense of innocence and used that guilt to anchor the unicorn to the farm. Twi had began studying the nature of Applejack’s business. She had been given duties and the title of advisor, something she loathed, but understood her choice was negated. Her service was expected and mandatory. If she failed to adjust to the new life she had been given, she would find herself deep in the soil, forgotten to the world above.


Twilight knew, from her newly acquired duties, that there were ten guards stationed around Sweet Apple Acres. One group of seven rotated in the open fields, eyes keen on threats from outside of the farm, while the remaining retainers took position around the primary house and barn. Known through the Family, the door guard simply nodded his respect to the new advisor and let her pass without question. On this night, the burdened unicorn decided to take a walk and sort her viscous thoughts.


With so many books at her disposal in the royal castle, Twilight was more than well-read and had delved into almost any topic imaginable. She knew, for instance, that she needed to find a way to make peace with her actions or she would likely begin to exhibit signs of mental illness, some of which that could become quite debilitating. She took a moment to recall tales of villainy which spawned from a single instance of jealousy, self confidence, or even acts that began as chivalrous only to eventually render the pony prisoner to doubt or lust for power. There was no doubt that many of the ponies she had met in her time here had befallen such fates. She had no intention of allowing herself to become in such a state and her time for moping needed to end.


Twilight fought to clear her head as she plodded the once-rich earth, taking mental note of where the guards would be and purposefully maneuvering between the holes. She knew she would not be harassed but wanted her privacy, the door guard had been unavoidable but the others weren’t so. Her mental conjuration proved strong and she slipped through the fields unnoticed. She was searching for a place to sit and think, to concentrate upon the one weapon she had to combat the tyranny of Applejack and the evil that had infested the hearts of so many ponies.


The lavender mare wandered aimlessly for a few moments until she remembered the river that served as a boundary to the west and north of Sweet Apple Acres. She had not visited it often but had accompanied Sweetie Belle on occasion during her magical tutelage, using the river to serve as conduit for transmutation and conjuration incantations. Twilight remembered that most of the river bank was overgrown, too dense to navigate and overwhelming the banks, but there was one area where the overgrowth had been cleared to make way for a swimming hole. That was where Sweetie had led her and it seemed a peaceful, and private, enough place to arrange the brooding emotions and supplicate them with logic before they took too great a toll upon her distressed psyche. She turned in that direction, her head down and deep with thought, and slowly plodded towards the river bank.


The unicorn traveled slowly and with preoccupation of her distressed mind, rationalizing and explaining to herself what must be done.


”You’ve got to get over this! It was terrible but there’s nothing you can do now about it.” Twilight was determined to salvage as much of the situation as she could. She had never failed anything the Princess had assigned for her in the past and she did not intend to start now but before she could hope to repair the damage to Ponyville, she needed to repair herself. “Do you remember those old stories of Luna? How she became Nightmare Moon for her inability to come to terms with her role?” Twilight thought to herself, rallying logic and rationality to her side as she continued towards her destination. She paid little heed to the open field beset by skeletal trees and only barely acknowledged the first gurglings of the distant river. “That is what happens when thoughts aggregate without acceptance of their irreversibility. Do you want to end up mad? Do you want to hear voices or see things that aren’t there? There’s still time to fix things here. Now, more than ever, Ponyville needs you. You have to come to terms with your part and keep moving forward.”


She had snuck between the gap of the outer guards and had traveled to the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres, a distance so great that the farmhouse was out of sight beyond a pair of once-prosperous hills and only dotted with the leafless gray trees. Here, she would have the solitude she sought for her self-exploration. Twilight continued to think to herself and only occasionally looked up from the ground to verify her location, the pathway to the river bank was getting closer each time she looked up.


The path loomed black in the distance and Twilight dropped her chin once more. “But moving forward is much easier said than done. Those screams … oh, how will I ever sleep with them waiting in the lurches of that area between sleep and waking?”


Up came her chin, the stirrings of bony limbs dripping a canopy of dried willows came into view, the sounds of the river slightly more audible. “You just have to believe in yourself and the ultimum amicitia exponentia. It, alone, will set things right. You can’t let everyone down! You can’t!”


Once more, Twilight turned her vision to the passage between the crawling tendrils of the forest, it sounded as though a fish, something she didn’t think lived in the runoff polluted river, had jumped. It may be possible if the fish swam through this poisoned land for it to survive, but prolonged residence in the waters near Sweet Apple Acres would prove lethal to living creatures. She briefly wondered what kind of fish lived in the river but dismissed it as quickly as it had set upon her. “So many are counting on you, Twilight. The Princess, Sweetie Belle, Rarity, all those ponies trapped in Ponyville. You have to do it for them. You can do it! Now stop letting the dead hinder the living!”


Her heart began to pump once more, spreading willpower through her body, and giving her reason to work, reason to try, reason to live. With the first real smile in nearly a month’s time, Twilight snapped her gaze to the entrance to the river only a few dozen feet away and a chilling grip clamped upon the hope just budding within. A grinning form stood cloaked in the color of the abyss, only the gleam of her twisted smile stood evident to her physicality. “Twilight! How good of you to come visit your friend, Pinkie Pie. I think it’s time to continue our party. The one you started at Sugar Cube Corner!”


Twilight’s heart stopped and she felt waves of numbness spreading through her legs. She wanted to scream but it could not shuffle through the knot that seized her throat. It was impossible. Pinkie was dead. Her breathing became ragged and quick as she hyperventilated, seeing her dead friend was too much for her at that moment and she wished beyond all else to run away but her legs were locked in paralysis.


Twilight’s eyes could not stir nor blink as the shadowed form stepped into the clearing, the mutilated body of Pinkie Pie becoming all too clear. Wavy patches of raw, oozing flesh, stringy clumps of discolored fur clutched to the melted, plastic sheen of tattered skin, and a menacing haze of absolute insanity danced within her eyes shook the foundations of Twilight’s consciousness, nearly causing her to faint in fright. Her mind struggled to remain awake, her body beginning to regain some inklings of feeling in its extremities. Her voice tapered weakly like the beating of a fly whose wings have been torn away, “Pinkie … You’re dead. You can’t be real. You’re in my head … all in my head.”


Pinkamena stalked slowly from the pathway, dripping dank pools of black, brackish water from her desecrated body. Murder filled her head, the bright crimson life of the purple mare consumed her thoughts and her long, languid tongue hung from the corner of her mouth in eager anticipation of the gorging of blood and viscerals that would soon be all that was left of her once trusted friend. The blackness closed around Pinkamena, blinding her of all but the prey standing helpless before her wickedness. She remembered Applejack’s voice commanding Twilight to throw the bomb, she would never forget it. In that split second before the roiling fire consumed Sugar Cube Corner, she knew Twilight had betrayed her.


“Stand still, Twilight. I’m just in your head, that’s right. Let’s open it up and see what that brain looks like. I bet it tastes like cotton candy.”


Finally able to feel her legs again, Twilight turned and bolted from the open field, pounding the loose soil with her hooves as she clenched her eyes, tears spilling along her cheeks, wishing away the horrific vision her mind had conjured.


The wrecked mare’s excitement exploded and she giggled hysterically as Twilight attempted to flee. “YES! RUN! IT WILL BE ALL THE BETTER IF YOU RUN!” Her senses felt alive, thrumming and her breath quickened in anticipation of the chase, the catch, and the kill. She felt her marehood moisten, her muscles twitching in preparation of the deeds that needed to be done. She watched for a moment, allowing Twilight to get a decent lead, wanting to draw out the game a little longer. “I’M COMING!” Pinkie’s muscles bunched and the cantering form of Twilight filled her vision. She took the first leap of chase, filled to the brim with lust for revenge, the first death of many, the dismemberment of the one who had burned her so heinously. Her laughter sprang from deep within.


A ball of growling, gnashing teeth caught Pinkamena in mid air, knocking her to the earth and sending flaring pain through her upper body. She should have paid more attention to her surroundings; slamming with her hooves, a fierce strength behind them, she felt thick hide tearing with each blow and yet the burning, tearing pain radiated through her forelegs. She fought to get to her feet, to free herself of the thing which twisted viciously and dug vicious fangs deeper into the meat of her shoulder.


Pinkamena rolled with the unknown beast, both of them lost in bloodlust, fighting for their lives. With each heavy shot from her hoove the creature’s vice-like grip loosened, thin ribbons of red decorated her coatless skin but whether it was hers or the beast’s she could not tell, probably both. She cried out in pain and anguish as a large chunk of her flesh rent away in the maw of the furry creature, but at least she was free.


Pinkamena rapidly rolled to her hooves, her chest and neck suddenly warm with her flowing lifeblood. She could see the damage she had caused, the torn scraps of flesh hanging from the beast. She did not understand where that secret strength had flowed but felt empowered still, her body seeming metaphysical and incredibly powerful. Her eyes narrowed and her mind clouded with hatred. Twilight would get away and the surprise attack had ended before it had really began. Applejack would know she was back. She cursed herself but she didn't have time to dwell on it, she finally recognized the form of Winona, Applejack’s faithful fighting dog.


***


Winona swallowed the hunk of flesh won from the formerly pink pony’s shoulder and dropped to a low attack position, a thick hateful growl coming from deep within her nimble, wiry frame. Winona had fought in pits for her family for years and now, her retirement upon her, she had patrolled the perimeter at night in search of trespassers to feed the bloodlust that refused to retire. Winona’s coat was wet with blood and her head ached from the powerful hooves of the pony but she had seen worse fights and come out champion of them all. This one would be no different and would satiate the secret hunger for pony flesh born within her. She was a good girl. Applejack would be proud of her again when she dragged what was left of this intruder to the doorstep of the farmhouse. After she had her fill of the delicious meat, of course.


Pinkamena was hurting but pain meant nothing to her anymore, it was her ally and lived within her ravaged frame, another missing piece of her body was mere inconvenience. Her fury pumped adrenaline throughout her form and she circled slowly to the right, maintaining her distance as Winona rolled left. The Collie was sizing Pinkamena up, searching for a weakness to exploit and Pinkamena knew the mutt was the quicker. She would snatch Pinkamena first, but the mare wasn’t without strengths of her own. She had just begun to comprehend the powers hidden within her.


Winona lunged quickly, meaning to sink her wicked teeth into the artery rich neck of the mare but only getting a small piece of her already injured shoulder. She yanked and reeled her canine body to tear the small piece of flesh away but lost it as an unbelievably strong hoof crashed into her back. The dog yelped in pain and leapt back, eyes glowing a demonic green in the night as she sought a new opening, understanding that this pony had an almost supernatural strength, something even the giant mastiffs did not possess. It was no matter. She had beaten the biggest dogs in the pits and she meant to beat this injured mare as well. She would have to be careful, though. She had been lucky her ribs had not broken or worse yet, her spine, from that hammering strike she had taken. She would have to bring this forceful opponent down slowly, bleed her to death with quick pass-by attacks. She knew she could out-maneuver the mare and her plan would easily work if she stayed out of the way of those dangerous hooves.


Winona feinted a strike and Pinkamena fell for it, slapping out with her front legs and setting herself off balance.Winona leapt quickly and tore a small strip from the pony’s belly.


Pinkamena winced and caught her balance, falling to her back could mean death if Winona got in fast enough and the dog had proved herself to be very quick.


Again, Winona dove with amazing speed and took a small piece of meat from the pony’s body, a flap of skin above her hind knee this time. Winona swallowed hungrily and rolled to the left, circling her prey with a somewhat gleeful look across her canine features. The mare’s counter attack missed its mark widely. The mare was too slow. She would be picked apart and it was going to be so much fun doing it.


Pinkamena was bleeding from several wounds now, only one of which was serious, but she could already feel some of her strength sapping away as her blood fed the starving soil. She needed a plan, Winona was too quick. Watching another chunk of her flesh disappear into the gullet of the dog sickened the mare and she thought quickly. She needed to neutralize the dog’s speed if she was going to get a grip of her. So far, she had been unable to react quickly enough to retaliate and the dog was playing cunningly. She couldn’t help but smile approvingly at the vicious canine, she was very smart. The pony grinned wider as a thought crossed her mind. Hopefully, she was proud too.


The mutilated mare backed slowly away, the dog following her steps, pondering what the mare was trying to do. Pinkamena was still close to the river and the brush would prevent the canine from circling her. She may be able to escape, let the river wash her away downstream and leave the animal behind on the shore.


Pinkamena moved slightly to one side, angling her rump with the passage to the river. She tried to keep her distance from the dog, forcing it to attack from a greater distance and giving her time to prepare. She didn’t have far to go until she wouldn’t need to worry about the dog driving her out into the open field.She just needed a few more steps and the brush would surround her on her flanks. Pinkamena faked a wounded hobble.


Winona wasn’t sure what the mare was doing at first and made a few mock attacks, hoping to force the pony to lose her balance again. When she only skidded backwards quickly, Winona growled and understood that she was retreating. Winona narrowed her eyes, the prey was hurt, weak, and frightened. She wanted to flee but Winona was a good dog and wouldn’t let her. She had this fight won already, she didn’t even mind when the pony backed down the path towards the river, circling was for foes in active battle, not for running cowards. The pony showed her weakness, her massive strength had faded from the bleeding wounds. Winona lunged again, the distance was greater but it didn’t matter, the prey was weak and slow. She would take another piece of …


The blow brought stars to the dog’s eyes, her head felt as if it had been hit by a falling tree and a hot wetness spread across half of her head. The metallic taste of blood was thick in her maw and she realized that one of her eyes had gone dark, the force expelling it from its socket. For a moment the dog yelped and shook the flopping orb vigorously but an acute frenzy filled her and returned her to her victim. Winona was injured badly and her eye was gone. She had been hurt plenty of times in the pit but had never been marred permanently before. She heard splashing as the pony retreated into the river. She wouldn’t let her get away, not after this! She would bleed the pony dry in the river!


The injured pony giggled to herself, the way the dog’s eye had popped from her skull filled Pinkamena with sick joy but she didn’t have time to enjoy the quivering wetness that seized her loins and used the time to leap into the water. She kicked her way to the middle of the stream, fighting the current and keeping her eyes on the recovering dog. “Want me? Come on, Winona. Come get me, girl. Come get some more of my blood. It’s all for you. Come on! Come on you flea bag!”


Winona didn’t understand Pinkamena’s words but knew taunting. She snarled, diving angrily into the cool water and directly onto the teasing mare. Her teeth snapped angrily but found no purchase. She bit wildly, searching for anything to rip away from the mare. She wanted blood, sweet blood and any body part would do.


The water whirled and became thick with the silt from below and blood from the mare and dog, a rich stink came up from the depths, the poisoned earth, brought to the surface, released its toxins into the air. Pinkamena felt a sharp pain under her ribs that stuck and twisted violently. She had her. The water made the dog slow and her anger made her stupid. She wouldn’t be able to escape this time.


She accepted the injury and locked her forelegs around the writhing neck of the animal, holding her below the surface of the water. Pinkamena’s eyes dilated and she squeezed with all of her strength, feeling the animal’s clench loosen as a pair of watery pops rippled through the viscous liquid.


Winona’s body went still as Pinkie twisted hard, pulling the corpse of the pit-champion to float on the surface of the water, her head looking over her back, tongue lolling, with a sickening twist in her neck.


***


Twilight had ran all the way back to the farmhouse, luckily avoiding guards by chance, and slammed the door behind her. Her lungs burned from the long run and her head reeled with what she had seen. She knew then that she had already begun her descent into madness. She was seeing images of the dead and was plaguing herself for her deeds. She struggled to catch her breath and looked out the kitchen window, silently pleading to not see Pinkie Pie standing on the other side.


For many minutes the mare stood, eyes wide and staring, until she became satisfied that the ghost would not appear again. Her head felt heavy and full of ache. She needed rest, her strained mind may relapse if she didn’t. She had bought herself some time, become more at peace with her role in the deaths of her friends. With any luck she may be able to sleep for a few hours and rejuvenate some of her teetering sanity.


The mare climbed the stairs, uncertain but hopeful that sleep would come this night. She walked softly through the hall and caught a cold dread in her stomach as she saw light spilling from beneath Applejack’s door. She crept towards her own room but froze as the weak board squealed in protest to her weight. She had forgotten the squeaky one!


Within an instant Applejack’s door swung open revealing the angry looking orange mare.


Twilight nearly wet herself. She wasn’t sure what to do and only looked blankly to the master of the Apple Family. She cowered in the presence of Applejack. Her voice failed once more and she stood in Applejack’s steely gaze.


Suddenly, Applejack’s iron appearance softened and she stepped slowly towards the lavender unicorn. “Twilight, you darned near scared me. Ah wasn’t sure what was goin’ on. What are ya doin’ out here at this time o’ night?” Her voice was gentle, soothing, inviting.


Twilight stammered, her eyes full of fear. She wasn’t sure if AJ was pretending or not but she couldn’t tell her that she was breaking down, seeing things. Applejack had asked her to not see her as who she was but who she had been, a friend, but Twilight could see her as little more than a maniac and she feared what Applejack could do if she so saw fit.


“Nightmare, huh? I reckon’ most ponies have’m.” Applejack looked Twilight over and felt those old urges returning, the same ones she had for Rainbow Dash. She wouldn’t repress them this time. Twilight was her advisor and just like Dash, she would be expected to keep council late into the nights. She wanted Twilight and grinned gently. ‘Why don’t y’all come inta my room and sleep with me? Ain’t nothin’ gonna get y’all in here.” She didn’t know if Twilight had the same tendencies as Dash but she would soon find out.


Twilight found herself confused. She didn’t know how to respond. The sexual invitation was lost on her, the naive pony was not versed in such, but she didn’t know how to react. She simply shook her head. “Just a nightmare, AJ. I … I’m okay. I just needed a drink of water. Thanks though … I’m … I’m fine.” Twilight turned her back on the mare and made her way to her bed, hoping she had not offended Applejack. She knew AJ was doing her best to try and ease her fears and settle her into her new position in the Family but it was difficult for the mare to think of AJ as anything but a monster. As she shut the door and climbed back into bed, she knew one thing for certain; she needed to work on the ultimatum amicitia exponentia, the ultimate friendship spell.


***


Applejack watched the door close and let out a sigh of disappointment. A small smirk took her features and she chuckled to herself. Twilight would come around. She would play nice for now but that girl had lots of learning to do. She would be a strong ally in the future and enough knowledge to become a very powerful advisor. She would also learn that she liked mares, even if AJ had to make her figure it out.


***


Pinkamena didn’t remember how she had pulled herself from the river or how long she had been tugged downstream after the fight with Winona. Her injuries were many and her body had been eddied of its strength. She was slowly learning that extended activity wiped her out afterward. As her body drained of its sustenance, she fell in and out of consciousness until she found herself on a cobbled street.


Eyes bleary and acknowledging only vague shapes, the ruined mare plodded awkwardly into the unknown. It was still night but there were several lights surrounding her and the clops of her own hooves surprised her, the sounds so familiar but strange as well. Weary and continuing to feel the sticky heat that stretched from her shoulder down her chest, the injured mare stumbled ahead; driven by willpower and confusion she dragged herself forward through the streets of Ponyville. She found herself against a wall, the cool stone and wood propping her, bearing her weight as she slumped to the ground.


Something moved, something big and she attempted to open her eyes. She saw a moving form and heard a sudden gasp as the blackness closed around her.


Rarity covered her mouth, completely shocked by what she saw. It was rare that she would ever answer a knock on her door after dark, much less a strange sliding noise, and yet she had done so in these early hours of the morning when most of the hoodlums had retired and the working ponies had yet to leave their homes for the daily grind. She looked down in horror at the thing laying on the doorstep to Carousel Boutique.


She gasped in horror at what once was one of her dearest friends.