Secret Ingredient

by Pastel Pony


Part 8: The Execution

The next morning, I finally woke up with a small smile on my face. No dreams.

Not one single bucking dream.

I felt like singing.
Maybe it was the pills, maybe it was just talking things out with somepony who didn't need protection... like my friends. But I felt better than I had since the day I took my first steps into that basement. Dreaming Sky was a miracle worker. Even through all my screaming, all my crying, she jut sat there quietly and took it all in. After it was over, she didn't hold me and give me her pity...she talked to me. She talked to me like a normal mare, not one who had nearly been murdered barely a week ago.
She'd told me that life had a funny way of planning itself out, and it wasn't worth beating our heads around what could have been when what had happened had happened...even when it was something more horrible than we could imagine. Thinking about what could have been different would just destroy me.
I think it was the best advice I'd gotten since this whole mess started.
I sighed in an easy way as I watched a tiny spider crawl across the ceiling.
No Dreams.
It wasn't recovery, not by a long shot. Dreaming Sky herself had stated clearly that things wouldn't ever be the same.

But it was a start in the right direction.

I sat up with a yawn and hopped out of bed. My eyes wandered over to the calender on the wall by the bed. For a second I just stood there as the date finally clicked, and then I sat down with a sharp gasp as it all came crashing down.
Today was the day.


I sat on a chair by the door as I waited for Rarity to finish getting ready. I fiddled nervously with the fabric on the black skirt around my waist. I had found myself wearing it everyday to hide the bandages around my flank, to pretend they weren't there. It helped me feel... normal.
Rarity trotted downstairs, dressed in a similar black skirt. No fancy fashions today, we were mares in mourning.
We slipped out the door, Rarity locking it behind us. Curious eyes watched us from across the street as we walked along the road. I whimpered slightly at all the staring ponies, and did my best to hide behind Rarity.
She glanced at me, "Did you eat breakfast?"
I shook my head, I had been too nervous to try to eat anything.
She sighed sympathetically, and we continued down the street in silence. "Are the girls coming?" I whispered.
Rarity grimaced, "Applejack and Twilight are meeting us there. Spike is going over to Scootaloo's house with Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. Twilight didn't want him to come, too young." she sighed, "Hopefully the three of them can do something for Scootaloo, she hasn't been the same since she found out about...Rainbow."
I winced, thinking of the poor filly. "She loved Rainbow more than life itself."
We turned a corner, and found ourselves outside the small city asylum, Pinkie's current home. I stopped and turned to Rarity, "Why isn't Pinkie in a jail?"
Rarity looked at the ground, "I didn't want to tell you, given how bad things have been for you...but...she's not been very well since the trial. She's always screaming and appears to be talking to her victims, particularly Rainbow Dash. They had to put her in solitary confinement in a padded room for her own safety."
I shivered, "But...couldn't she be pardoned by reasons of insanity then?"
"Fluttershy, she's done horrific things." Rarity whispered, "Even if they could prove she's insane, they wouldn't be able to revoke her sentence."
A trotting noise came from behind us, and we turned around to see Twilight and Applejack turn the corner. They came to stop next to us, and I noted with a sigh that Applejack looked like she'd been crying. We all stood there for a second, unsure what to say, until Twilight broke the silence, "Shall we...go in then?"
In silence, we all took the final steps towards to the door as one. Applejack gently pushed it open, and we filed inside. It was a disturbingly pleasant front room, with bright artwork and comfortable looking chairs. On a sofa by the wall, there sat two young mares, one purple, one grey, each on the side of an old, frail looking mare. My heart sank as I recognized them from the pictures Pinkie had proudly tacked onto her wall.
Her mother and sisters.
The older mare took one look at us and dissolved into tears. One of Pinkie's sisters jumped up with a snarl, "What do you think you're doing here?!?"
I whimpered, afraid she was talking to me, but then watched in amazement as she instead advanced on Twilight.
"You're the one who condemned her to this!" she screamed, raising a hoof as if to strike her. Her sister quickly leaped forward and shoved her away from Twilight.
"Stop it, Inkie!" she yelled. She then turned to Twilight with fear in her eyes, "I-I'm sorry princess... my sister is wrong to blame you for this."
Twilight sighed, "N-No apology needed. I'm sure you're all going through a very difficult time... I can hardly be upset at you for considering this my fault. I-I did convict her, after all."
The mare simply reached up and gave Twilight a hug, "We've seen enough from Pinkie's letters to know you girls all cared for her very much....I...I'm sure you only did what you had to."
She then turned to me, a few tears brimming in her eyes. "Fluttershy...I'm...so...sorry." she whispered, casting a glance at my short mane, "I..." she trailed off, turning away sadly.
I put out a hoof to stop her, and gently wrapped my forelegs around her, letting her cry into my shoulder. "No," I whispered, "I'm sorry...You're losing your sister, nopony deserves that." I carefully guided her back to her seat, and turned to her mother. "Mrs. Pie...I..."
The mare simply smiled sadly and rested her hoof on top of my own, her eyes full of sympathy.
On the other side of the room, a door swung open, and a tired looking mare trotted out. "Friends and family of Pinkie Pie?" We all nodded, and she sighed. "Follow me please."
She lead us through the door to a small room devoid of anything but a few chairs, a glass boundary taking up part of one of the walls. The worker looked at us with pity, "Umm..." she cleared her throat, "All prisoners are allowed to write letters to their loved ones, saying goodbye." Her eyes trailed around the room, as she carefully drew a stack of papers out of her saddlebag, "Mrs. Pie? Inkie? Blinkie?" Pinkie's mother and sisters stood and retrieved their letters.
"Twilight Sparkle?" Twilight sat up in surprise and took her letter. I listened as Rarity and Applejack were called up to retrieve their letters. The names of the Cakes were called, and the letters for them placed back in the bag.
"Rainbow Da-" The mare froze, glancing down at the envelope, before shaking her head and putting it back in her bag.
She looked at the final letter for a second, then turned to us, "Fluttershy..." she whispered, pity in her eyes.
I reached out and grabbed my letter, staring at it in horror. What in Equestria could Pinkie Pie honestly have to say to me? I slowly turned it over and started to break the seal, when Twilight's hoof reached out to stop me.
"You don't have to." She whispered, a quaver in her voice.
I gently pushed her hoof away. "Yes....I do." I opened the envelope, pulling out the letter, which appeared to dotted with tears. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded the paper and began to read.

Dear Fluttershy,

I don't regret what I've done.

I see things differently from other ponies, and I have different urges. I can't really help it...It's just the way I was born. I've killed other ponies, I can't change the choices I've made, even if I never planned on them. Once I started I just couldn't stop...I don't regret it though...mostly. It's a part of who I am.
I thought you should know that.

I know you probably hate me, and I suppose I can't blame you for that. I do have one request though, an appeal to your kindness.
Try to remember me by the pony who was your buddy, not the pony who didn't care if she killed her friend...It's all me, but I kind of like that good part a bit better. It helps make this a bit easier.

I suppose I did lie...I had one regret. I wish I hadn't pulled Dashie's number.
But I don't make the rules, do I?

-Pinkie Pie

I dropped my hoof and watched the piece of paper circle to the ground. The light white of the paper stood out against the dirty grey linoleum. I stared at the floor blankly, and for once...I had no tears to give. I couldn't cry for this letter. Not for Pinkie Pie, not for Rainbow Dash, ...not even for myself. I wasn't upset...nor angry. Just...empty.

...She wrote me a letter just to tell me she doesn't regret it?

Why doesn't she regret it?

She's going to lose her life.

...She regrets Rainbow Dash.

But not me.

She would have killed me.

I would have been the next doll on her shelf.

Who can apologize for that?


...Remember her as my friend?

How can I do that?

...............Why aren't I crying?

I felt a breeze tickle my coat as Twilight sped past me and out the door, sprinkles of tears littered on the floor in her wake. I could hear sobs coming from somewhere near myself. I wanted to move and comfort whoever was crying, but I couldn't. I simply sat there, my gaze locked on the letter.
A mare's voice said something, and I slowly raised my eyes in time to see them bring her through on the other side of the glass. Pinkie Pie. Her hair still hung in that complete flatness, devoid of it's normal life, but her face held an eerie smile. My breath caught in my chest as I studied her slow walk and her tear-stained cheeks. She perked up when she saw us and waved enthusiastically at her sisters.
"Hi girls! I'm so glad you could come!" she chirped. Inkie sobbed and buried her face in her sister's shoulder, yet Pinkie just continued to stare at them with a smile on her face. Her gaze traveled over to Rarity and Applejack, who she quickly saluted in a rather Pinkie-ish way.

She didn't seem to see me.

It was only when the guards began to pull her towards the chair did she seem to understand what was happening. Her eyes grew wide, and the smile dropped off her face. I saw her tense up, pressing her hooves against the floor in an attempt to prolong her fate. The guards grunted in surprise as they suddenly found themselves dragging rather than leading her.
"No..." She whimpered, hooves scrambling to find purchase on the linoleum. "No...NO!" Swinging out of the guards' grip, she turned and skidded towards the door. The stallions dove for the chains shackled to her hooves, grabbing them just as she reached the door. The metal links went rigid as Pinkie reached the end of their length, and her hooves swung out from under her.
The floor resounded with a sharp crack as her chin hit the ground. "No...please, no..." she mumbled, eyes struggling to stay open. The guards dragged the unconscious mare over the the metal chair at the center of the small room, and buckled her in. Pinkie's eye snapped open as the last restraint clicked into place.
Sobbing, she tugged effortlessly against the cuffs holding her down, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Trapped...she was trapped and defenseless, just like all the ponies she had trapped down in her basement. Like me. The bandages that covered my cutie mark suddenly seemed to itch and burn furiously, and I whimpered as pictures of the dark and the rot threatened to overwhelm me.
With tears streaking down her cheeks, Pinkie's eyes suddenly met our from the other side of the glass. "Rarity!" she cried. "Applejack! Help me! Help me!Please!" She furiously pulled against the chair strapping her down as a stallion in white entered the room. "Please! PLEASE! Please!" She screamed desperately. "I'M YOUR FRIEND! WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME?!"
Rarity let out a rather unladylike sob and dashed from the room.
"Rarity!" cried Applejack, galloping after her.
Pinkie's crazed eyes flickered over to her family. "Mommy! Mommy, don't let them!" she yanked a hoof against a cuff, and a small line of blood appeared where she had cut herself on the sharp metal. "Ow! Mommy, make it stop! It hurts!" I turned to see her mother with a panicked expression on her face. The stallion in white, who I presumed was a doctor, trotted into the room and began pulling a syringe out of the cupboard. Pinkie's eyes went wide. "No! I-'ll be a good little filly! Just please, Mommy, make them stop!"
Pinkie's mother bolted from the room, her daughters right behind her as Pinkie cried out for her siblings to wait. She screamed for her family in-between her sobs as the doctor filled the syringe. I was shivering and quaking in horror as her gaze turned to me, eyes full of desperate tears.
"Fluttershy..." she whimpered, and I recoiled back. "Fluttershy..." Her eyes flickered to the doctor. "Fluttershy, please. I-I'm not a b-bad pony....p-please don't let them do this. I-I thought we were friends." I desperately shook my head, still glued to my seat. The stallion at last turned to Pinkie with the filled syringe and a grim expression on his face.
"No!" she shrieked, thrashing about. "No! No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Fluttershy, don't let them do this! I don't wanna die! It's not my fault! Please!"
As the doctor tried to find his mark, I at last found myself in control of my body. I launched towards the glass and pounded on it desperately. "STOP!" I screamed. "STOP! PLEASE!" One of my hooves connected with the glass with more force than I thought I had in me, and a small crack appeared. Pinkie's eyes met mine, full of hope.
"Fluttershy..."
As she stopped struggling for a second, the doctor quickly took his chance, and the needle met her skin. A gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes went lidded as the clear liquid flowed out of the syringe and into her veins. I let out a shriek of unbridled terror and threw myself at the glass again and again as she slowly faded away.
"Dashie..." she whispered, then went still.
My hooves dropped to the ground as I stared in disbelieving shock at her limp form. I whimpered and began to tremble, before quickly scooping my letter from Pinkie off the ground and bolting from the room. I sped past the waiting room and out the door into the deceitfully cheery summer afternoon. I didn't stop, just ran in a blind terror for what seemed like hours.
Eventually, I found myself at the river. Falling to the ground, I lay there shivering as Pinkie's desperate cries echoed through my head again and again. Each time they were a little louder.

Why?

The note from Pinkie, a little dirty from sitting on the linoleum floor, fluttered to the ground. I stared at it for a second, a piece of the last hoofwriting she would ever make, and let out a scream. Leaping up, I attacked the note, smashing it against the ground and tearing it to pieces until there was nothing left but a few bits of white that were blown away by the wind.
I started to cry.