• Published 29th Mar 2012
  • 15,431 Views, 271 Comments

Borderline - Lucefudu



Dwelve into the mind of the famous Cupcakes killer, Pinkamena Diane Pie

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Story

"So, let's start from the beginning, shall we?" a raspy male voice was directed to the pink mare that sat opposite to him. "Tell me your name."

The mare didn’t answer right away, diverting her attention from the doctor to the room she found herself in. It was your everyday therapy room; chairs delicately arranged with the table, colors picked by hoof, plastic plants, stands filled with books, wool carpet, a leather divan, surrealist portraits. All the needed ingredients to give one the subtle idea that the doctor is and would always be your intellectual superior and, most importantly, to make the patients forget that they were still inside a prison complex.

The room’s decór helped to maintain the feeling of acceptance by the careful proximity to the therapist and the home-like ambience of the room, something to which Pinkamena merely snickered, not fazed by it the slightest. The noise from the tip of the doctor’s quill rubbing against the parchment’s surface prompted her to look back at the doctor with an emotionless gaze.

"Pinkamena Diane Pie." The voice was frigid, yet unsettlingly calm.

"And you're here because you-" he managed before the mare cut him short.

"Ponynapped, tortured both physically and psychologically, butchered, slaughtered, sodomized, raped, cooked and cannibalized over thirty-six ponies, which included but were not restricted to elders, infants and babies," she spoke calmly, never diverting her gaze from him. Her voice voice carried zero emotion along with it; just as if she was simply stating numbers. Facts.

Her expression quickly changed; she was now smiling warmly at him as if both were good friends. "Also charged of corrupting a minor by eliciting sexual acts from her and breaking said minor's mind into helping me with, what you call, my delusion... which is a very wrong assumption on your part since she came willingly to me,” she said, sounding calm yet inviting.

The doctor was a little surprised at what she had just told him, but nevertheless kept his posture; this line of work demanded him to be impersonal towards his patients. He had seen some maddening cases whilst working as an institutional psychiatrist. He knew this mare was trying to play a game with him; one he would not partake in. He maintained his impassive stare, trying to make the mare before him drop her happy façade. Whilst doing so, he began to physically analyze her.

She wore a one-piece orange jumpsuit with no pockets in it. Her number, 222874, was printed in black and sewn into a white part of her jumpsuit, next to her left shoulder. Pinkamena's jumpsuit, unlike the other prisoners, was clean and looked like it had been pressed earlier that day. But even being clean and tidy, the doctor couldn't help but fight a grimace when he looked at it; somehow it felt dirty. He looked at her mane and noticed that it was completely straight, conflicting with the mug shot they had taken of her upon her apprehension. For a moment he thought that they had caught the wrong pony, but a quick search at her case record told him that her DNA matched perfectly with the saliva samples that were taken from the bodies.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not a threat to you," she said, lifting her forehooves up and shaking the shackles right in front of the doctor's face, prompting him to look up from his parchments to her. "But you know that if I wanted to, I could strangle you with these without even alerting the guards outside... Wanna bet?" she asked, face bearing a mocking smile. The doctor couldn’t help but feel a sudden chill running down his spine as Pinkamena started giggling, her sharp gaze never leaving him.

"No, thank you,” the doctor simply stated, backing away the slightest. He knew that she could do it if she so desired; the problem was, is she willing to? He knew that she was just trying to scare him; push him a little and check for weaknesses. He’d seen it all before, this mare was nothing new. When he realized that her gaze ran up and down his being, he acknowledged that she was also examining him. "What are you doing?" he asked her, faking ignorance.

"Oh, I couldn't help but notice the faint lipstick stain in your coat; had any luck with a lover today? Or maybe it really was your wife?" she said wiggling her eyebrows at the doctor, who struggled against the urge to look at himself.

"You tell me; which one do you think it is?" the doctor asked, knowing that she was trying to lead him somewhere. The thought amused him so, that he invited her to press further.

"I would consider you the lover kind of pony." she answered, matter-of-factually.

"And why is that?" he asked, holding back his quizzical tone.

"Judging by the fact that you deal with killers on a daily basis, I’d say that you had to find some way to blow off steam,” she said, winking at him. “Drugs? Even though they are easier for you to acquire, stallions of your status usually frown upon such things...”

When the doctor opened his mouth to inquire further, she cut him off once more. “Alcohol? That belly of yours contrasts a lot with your thin facial structure; ascites it is, then. Moderately on social occasions, but a bit of a heavy drinker on the side... but even that isn’t enough. I can see it in your eyes,” she said, getting up from her chair and pointing towards him with her forehoof. “Haven’t got much sleep in the past few months... your work shifts aren’t that long; you don’t work on a hospital. You are married, and that is exactly the problem.” She allowed herself to fall onto her chair before continuing. “She controls you. And you clearly have issues with that. You must be the patriarch, after all,” she said as she began to giggle. “The alpha male! Oh, how pathetic!”

The doctor kept his stoic face and allowed the mare to recompose herself from her giggling fit. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her forehoof before proceeding further. “She constantly argues with you, making you lose your sleep. You know that, deep down, it is your fault. But still, you blame her for the whole situation. If it were not for her and your daughter,” she said, lifting one eyebrow at him. “You wouldn’t need to take a job that troubles you so much. But what can you do?” She pouted at him, continuing in a mocking voice. “You need to pay the bills and sustain yourself, your wife and your little filly... without your lover to help you loosen up, your life would’ve crumbled already.”

A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. ‘She spied on me?' 'She knew my family?' 'Did she plan to do something with my family?' 'Did she plan to do anything with Juna!?' But he managed to remain composed over her taunt.

“And why do you think I have a filly?” he asked slowly, looking seriously at her.

Pinkamena never answered that question. Time passed by and she kept staring at him for the whole session with a maniacal grin stamped on her face; he knew that she was analyzing him. He formulated new questions but he decided that, this being the first day, he would let the mare lead the session. The clock on the wall chimed, signaling the end of the first session -- which ended without another word from the mare. The doctor looked past the mare and yelled towards the guards that stood just outside the door to his room.

"Guards!” he yelled once and waited for the white stallions to enter the room before continuing. “Please take her to her cell. We're done for today."

Pinkamena's grin kept itself wide on her face. She kept it even when the brutish guards grabbed her and tightened their magic grip on her with more force than needed.

"I think we’re going to be the best of friends, you and I. Don’t you think? " Pinkamina let out a deranged laughter while the guards dragged her out of the room. Her laughter echoed from the prison’s hallways back into the doctor’s room, sending a cold tingle down his spine.

The doctor looked down and frowned at her case record. It was true; he dealt with Equestria's worst scum on a daily basis, but against his initial thoughts, the doctor acknowledged that this mare was not like any of them.

“I need a drink...”

* * *

A loud knock on the door made the doctor lift his head from the many case records on top of his table that needed to be sorted out. He grumbled, checking his pocket watch for the time. After looking at it a second time and realising that Pinkamena’s scheduled session was exactly on time, he sighed but nevertheless told the guards to let her in. The door creaked open and Pinkamena walked slowly towards the chair before him, the shackles producing an irritating sound as they scraped against the maple floorboards. She pulled the chair with one forehoof and sat on it, avoiding the doctor’s gaze by staring at the wall on her left side.

“Pinkamena, wha-”

"I apologize," the pink pony said nonchalantly. Her eyes never left the wall, as if she was lost deep inside the realms of her own mind. It then became clear to the doctor that she wanted to be the one to lead these sessions.

"You're sorry?" he asked, shifting his body in order at look her in the eyes. The pink mare breathed a weary sigh before shifting her gaze, locking it with his eyes.

"I didn't say that." Her frown intensified. "I said that I apologize. For the way I acted. It was quite rude of me." Except what the mare just stated, the doctor knew that, deep down, she didn’t really care about the way she acted prior. Not wanting to drag this subject further, the doctor paused for a moment before tying a different approach.

"Pinkie, why-"

"Don't you ever say that name again! The only ones that are allowed to call me that are my friends and most of them are dead by now," she said, turning her body to face him. He could see the menace in her eyes, anger boiling in her heart. He looked down and wrote on his notebook something about not pressing the issue further for now.

"Pinkamena, then. Why did you do it?"

She sighed more heavily than before. “Ah, the one million-bit question. What everypony is... dying to know.” Disgust seeped through her voice as the mare muttered those words. Breathing another -- more weary -- sigh, she brought her hooves up and looked at them, a gloomy frown slowly forming on her muzzle. She kept still, looking at her hooves for a moment before her eyes slowly rose to meet his. The doctor was a little surprised when he acknowledged that her eyes were brimming with tears. “I think that you would’ve guessed by now... but daddy... he... he...” She left the sentence dangling in the air as she buried her head into her forehooves and began to cry openly.

Whilst remaining apathetic on the outside, the doctor smiled a bit on the inside. ‘She’s opening herself to me... good. A huge step. Making progress.’ He waited for a few minutes for her cries to wind down into light sobs before asking her to continue in the most gentle tone he could muster.

“Pinkamena, please. I know this is hard for you, but you need to tell me everything.” He inched his body closer to hers, placing a comforting hoof on her shoulder.

The moment she felt his hoof touching her fur, the stopped sobbing and jumped backwards a little, startled by his touch. She looked at his hoof and slowly moved her head to meet his eyes once more. Those wide, cerulean eyes, glistening with fresh tears, looking pitifully at him. She lowered her touching gaze towards his forehoof and brought her head closer to it, nuzzling his forehoof. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows slightly, seemingly in pain. She took his forehoof into one of her own and slowly brought it to her cheek, holding it in place tenderly. The doctor felt a light weight oppressing his chest when he noticed that she gently pressed his forehoof against her cheek, feeling the fresh tears that slowly dripped onto his fur.

“It happened the first time I got sick. Mommy and both my sisters went to the nearest town to get the specific medicine I needed. D- daddy said he would t- take care of m- m- me.” She resentfully let go of his hoof and lowered her head, looking dismal.

“He t- told me to go to his room... he s- said he had a special s- s- surprise for m- me...” Her ears folded against her head as she looked painfully at the doctor.. “When he came back, I remember asking him for my s- surprise... he... he...” she trailed off, breathing frantically.

“He only s- snickered in response!” She blurted out before crying once more. Soon, her low crying intensified into a wail that sent shivers down the doctor’s spine. Her body shook with each desolate sob as she tried to hide her face behind shaking hooves.

The doctor felt a pang striking through his heart. He magically plucked a paper tissue from a box on a table beside him and offered it to her. She took the tissue and blew her snout before her wails continued. The doctor wanted to urge her to continue her story, but silenced his curiosity and waited for her to recompose herself a little. Minutes passed before her wailing subdued into light sobs. She inhaled deeply and held her breath for several seconds before exhaling.

“A- after he was f- finished... he told me...” she paused, inhaling deeply once more, trying to hold back her emotions. “He told me that it was my fault... that I h- had forced him to do it... He told me that if I were to t- tell anypony about it, they wouldn’t b- elieve me... and... and...” She buried her face on her forehooves once more, allowing the stream of tears to flow freely. “... and I believed him!”

“Pinkamena... I...” the doctor trailed off, unable to come up with something to say in order to help soothe her pain. A part of him saw how frail she looked, and wanted nothing but to hold her in a warm, comforting embrace. He didn’t move an inch, knowing that this feeling was in conflict with his responsibilities as a psychiatrist; he could damage her even more just by doing so.

Upon hearing the doctor’s words, Pinkamena looked up to the doctor and, after acknowledging the moved expression stamped on his face, her gloomy demeanor instantly turned to one of derision. “Nah, I’m just bucking with you,” she said as the tears still streamed down her cheeks, circling around her mocking grin.

The doctor instantly frowned; confusion plastered across his whole being. She looked at his face and proceeded to laugh at him. “Daddy never touched a single hair of mine or my sisters’. He and mommy loved us all dearly. My fillyhood was a pretty good one, if you ask me. Of course there were some troubling times, but ever since I got my cutie mark, I’ve felt nothing but happiness.” She tilted her head slightly, knowing that her jest had made a successful hit.

The doctor’s face flushed in a deep tone of red and he had to fight hard in order to conceal his anger. That mockery, combined with that manipulative display made his blood near the boiling point. He swallowed his pride and breathed deeply, making a mental note not to trust Pinkamena this easily again. The room was plunged into silence once more and, just as he opened his mouth to voice some question the mare started talking, ignoring him completely.

“And now you’re wondering; what could possibly have happened to turn the infamous, happiness-filled Pinkie Pie-” she spat that name with a disgusted look upon her face. “- into this cold-blooded killer.” The doctor merely nodded in response. “I see, but let’s put a pin on that thought for a while, shall we? Let’s talk about why do you care.”

“Well, I-”

“Oh please! Do you really think that I believe in this ‘I only want to help you get better’ talk?” she asked him, mimicking his voice and adding a mocking tone to it. “I know that you are paid to do this job. I know that you suffer from this job,” she said nonchalantly. Without finishing, she got up from her seat and walked towards the big leather divan before allowing herself to drop over it limplessly. She landed on her back and crossed her hind legs, looking at the doctor with an expression that signaled that she was going to stay wherever she desired to.

“Without me, you and the other vultures would be scratching their rumps off, trying to come up with something to do...” she paused for a moment, poking her chin with her forehoof, seemingly deep in thought. “You could say that I made you.”

“How so?” he asked, not faking his interest.

“Without me, you and those ponies from the media would be nothing. What would you do-” she said, pointing at him. “- if I hadn’t come to bring life into your life? Counsel some idiot who thinks it’s too dangerous to leave his own house? Or maybe some moron who thinks that it’s okay to kill himself because nopony loves him?”

The doctor thought a little about what she had just said. Although taken to the extreme, in a way she was right. He owed his paycheks to all the deranged ponies in Equestria. Were it not for them, he’d be struggling to survive as a small-town therapist. ‘It somehow takes away the grandeur from everything I’ve studied so hard for...

His chain of thoughts came to an abrupt close when the mare voiced herself again. “And what would the other vultures write about? About how Winter Wrap Up in Ponyville was late again this year? Maybe another speculation about Princess Celestia’s-” she spat the name, just like she did when referring to her own nickname. “- sexual deviances? ... Actually, that is a good thing to write about...” she trailed off, musing the thought.

The doctor paid no attention to her last statement about the Princess and urged her forward, wanting to make some real progress “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

She sighed wearily, smacking her face with her forehoof. “What I mean is that if I had killed more ponies, then I would have felt like I really offered you vultures something. Without me, your lives would be boring... meaningless!” She was now waving her forehooves in the air, gesticulating. “You need me to fill the holes in your chests, because no matter how much work, sex, drugs you can use, you’ll never be free from your greatest torments.”

“Which are?” he asked, raising a brow.

She dropped her forehooves to her sides and lifted her head in order to look him in the eye. “Yourselves.” Once again, she allowed her head to drop against the soft surface of the leather couch. “Even though one could say that I’ve filled your hearts with terror, sadness and fear, I’ve brought you all closer to what you really are. I was able to, in a few years, do what you could never accomplish during your entire lifespan. I have, even for a little bit, changed you from machines into ponies again.” She stopped talking and looked at the doctor, who was too busy writing down something on her case file to notice her.

”And I plan to do so again,” she muttered under her breath. His head instantly shot upwards, and he looked quizzically at her.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, nothing...” She said as a wide, joyful grin spread across her face before she began to laugh. “You all love me in your sick and twisted ways... when I was caught, I bet that the audience skyrocketed on the TV. At least I am truthful to myself. It takes one lunatic to recognize another-” she said, meeting the doctor’s eyes once more and cocking her eyebrow. “- y’know?”

The doctor made another mental note about her articulation skills. ‘Able to stray from one topic to a seemingly different one with ease.

“I can see your point, Pinkamena. But I still don’t understand why do you consider yourself so important,” he said, folding his forehooves before his chest and looking a bit cockily at her.

The mare slowly rose from her leather seat and glared at him, furrowing her brows in anger. “This conversation. Is. Over,” she said in a deep, stern voice as if she were the doctor and he the mere patient. She jumped off from the divan and walked towards the door, banging on it with one hoof. “Open up. I’m done here.”

The door creaked and the mare left, prompting the doctor to indulge himself to bear a smirk for a few moments. He slowly shook his head as he snickered on the inside before looking down and levitated a quill to write on her case record.

Unable to properly handle deception; prone to violent outbursts when contradicted.

“Hmmm...” the doctor muttered before a knock on the door signaling the start of a new session with another patient broke him out from his thoughts.

“Ah, Miss...” he paused and looked down to his case records, trying to remember the name of the mare before him. “... Velvet Rose! Please sit down, I’ve been expecting you,” he said, gesturing amicably towards the chair before him.

The light purple pegasus nervously walked forward and sat on the chair. She let her head droop, making her face completely obscured by her mint green mane. The doctor looked to her and then down to her case record to check if the number on her jumpsuit -- 176509 -- matched the one written on the scroll.

“So, it says in here that you believe Celestia herself talks to you when nopony is around... would you care to explain that, Miss Velvet?”

* * *

The doctor was calmly writing his notes about his patients on his notebook when he heard a loud, terrified screech that echoed through the corridor’s walls outside his room. His ears perked up instantly, as he listened to the sounds of somepony being beaten. The wails got louder and louder until the guards burst the door to his room open and simply threw Pinkamena inside. Even though the strangeness of the situation made the doctor go into alert mode, he was composed enough to notice several changes on the pink mare; her hair was curly and her coat was a lighter tone of pink, matching exactly -- if not for the blood that trickled through her jaw and dripped on the floor -- the mugshot present on her prompt-book.

“Pinkamena?” he asked, not entirely sure how to start calming his doubts. For the first two weeks that the mare was in his room, she never displayed such helplessness. Even when she mocked the doctor with her fake story, she didn’t seem so fragile. She looked up to him; her eyes were brimming with tears and her face bore the personification of terror itself.

“Please, I didn’t do anything. I hate it here. Please, get me out of here,” she said in a voice the doctor wasn’t accustomed to. Even though she was scared, her voice carried a somewhat jubilant tone along with it. The doctor was split between acknowledging that this mare wasn’t the Pinkamena or that she was just manipulating him once more. He decided to remain wary of her for the moment and just act as he was supposed to.

“Calm down, Pinkamena. Do you know where you are?” he asked, trying to reassure her.

"I'm in a prison... but I don't know how I got here! I didn't do anything! They keep telling me that I'm a bad pony,” she said, slowly getting up from the floor and sitting on her haunches. “They say that... that I've done things, but it's not true! IT’S NOT TRUE!” she screamed, getting up and giving a step towards him. The doctor was quick magically push her back, forcing her to sit down. She looked at him pleadingly before her face drooped. “It's not true..." Her words were soon followed by sobs, prompting the mare to shake as her breathing became more and more labored.

“Pinkamena, you’re here because of what you’ve done,” he said, matter-of-factually.

Her ears folded down and she buried her head in her forehooves as her sobs slowly grew into a cry. “No... NO! You’re lying! I didn’t do anything!” she screamed at him, looking dejected. She quickly got up from the floor and galloped towards one of the room’s corners, just like a scared cat being cornered by a hungry cat. “I- I wanna see my friends!” She turned her head around, looking desperately for something. “DASHIE! DASHIE HELP ME!”

The doctor paused, musing over the somewhat familiar name. He quickly levitated her case record close and read an entry which described that Rainbow Dash was one of her many victims. He looked up to the mare, who stopped screaming but kept herself cuddled against the corner of the room. The silence was permeated by the occasional sob of the pink mare, only being broken when the two guards from the outside opened the door, looking quizzically at the doctor.

“Are you alright, doc’?” one of them asked. The doctor noticed that Pinkamena shielded herself from the guards when she caught sight of them.

“Well, why wouldn’t I be?”

Both guards just looked from the doctor, to Pinkamena and back to the doctor before one of them turned around and left. The other kept his suspicious glare fixed on the crying pony for a few more moments before leaving as well.

“Dashie... please...” He heard her pleading to nopony in particular. Frowning, he made his way to his table and opened one of the drawers in it before levitating a brownish paper folder out from it.

If she’s displaying some sort of dissociative personality disorder, this could help this scared Pinkamena accept what she had done. If she’s going to be reintroduced in society once more -- if such thing is even possible anyway -- this mare has to vanquish the Pinkamena.’ He thought, examining the sobbing mare on the corner. ‘Dissociative personality isn’t something you could emulate like this... she can’t be faking.

He sighed, knowing that such shocking news would be met with a wide variety of strong emotions from the mare. Still, such shock would prove itself useful in the long run; she needed to accept her past.

“Pinkamena... Rainbow Dash...” He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the pony before him. At the mention of her friend, her ears picked up and the mare looked up to him with pleading eyes. “Pinkamena, you killed Rainbow Dash.”

The mare looked at him more horrified than before. "No... it’s not true," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Pinkamena, yo-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT! I HATE THAT NAME!" she yelled at him, looking more distressed than angry. Her little outburst was soon followed by more tears.

“Listen to me!” he said, trotting next to her and prompting her to shield herself from him. He proceeded to grab both her forehooves with his own. “Your name doesn’t matter! What matters right now is that you must trust me!”

“No! Let go of me!” she said, struggling to break free from his grip. “I don’t believe in you!” The doctor frowned a bit and levitated the folder towards her. Her struggles made him lose his focus, prompting the folder to fall down to the ground and scatter the pictures it contained all around her. Hanging bodies, bathtubs filled with crimson blood, various mechanical contraptions, the procedure table and a wide variety of blood stained tools. The mare gagged when she saw a particular photo of a body in an advanced stage of decomposition that fell next to her.

The pink mare backed away from the pictures that surrounded her, looking frantically from one to the other with wide eyes. The doctor felt her forehooves stop struggling and so, he let go of her. “No... Dashie, no... it’s not... it’s not possible,” she said, slowly shaking her head side to side.

“I’m... sorry,” was all that he could mutter.

The mare stopped sobbing and began to laugh. But it wasn’t like that mocking laughter like the ones she always gave him; this one was a nervous and forced laughter, bordering mania. “Ha ha! Good one, doctor. This is one of Dashie’s pranks, isn’t it?” she muttered in-between laughs, looking frantically through all the photos. “Ok, Dashie, you can come out now! You got me!” She looked desperately to every corner of the room, searching for the place where she imagined Rainbow Dash would pop out and tell her that it was all a big prank.

Her maniacal grin began to falter when she acknowledged that silence was the only answer she would be receiving. “Dashie, this isn’t funny anymore! Come out!” she blurted out, forcing her voice to sound as jovial as possible. “Please!” she yelled, looking frantically everywhere.

"Pinkamena, you have to accept the fact that you killed all these ponies,” the doctor said, sounding tired, yet hopeful. “You have to start accepting the consequences of your actions. You're not the first murder-" The pink mare instantly turned her head and looked straight at him.

“NO! I DIDN’T MURDER ANYPONY!” she was screaming more violently than before, even thought her eyes conveyed zero emotion. “WHY DO YOU INSIST ON CALLING ME A MURDERER?! I’VE NEVER HARMED ANYPONY!” She gripped the doctor by his collar, prompting him to screech, alerting the guards outside.

The door flung open violently, nearly being torn from its hinges and the guards rushed inside. Pinkamena’s eyes widened at them and she quickly let go of the doctor, backing away from the guardsponies until she bumped into the wall. The guards weren’t fazed by her display of fear and galloped towards her before proceeding to hit her repeatedly with their batons.

The doctor could only watch in awe as they clobbered her incessantly. Blood splattered against the walls and the floor with each hit until the mare collapsed and fell limply over the wooden floor. Even though the mare was passed out, both guards continued their assault on her. The doctor, finally waking up from his fazed state, trotted towards the guards.

“STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER!” the doctor yelled, making both stop with their batons in mid air and look at him quizzically, shocked by the fact that he wanted them to spare this mare’s life. The doctor quickly walked towards Pinkamena, only to stop dead on his tracks when he saw her rise and buck the two guards at the same time, flinging them past himself.

Pinkamena looked at the doctor and tackled him before he could react, bringing both ponies to the floor. Tears and blood dripped onto his face as he struggled to get the mare away from him. “Believe me! I don’t need to kill anypony!” she said, fighting against her sobs. “I think it!” she said, letting go of the doctor with one forehoof, before tapping it against her forehead three times. “I have it here!”

Just when she had finished her statement a baton strike on the back of her head made her head fall limply on the top of the doctor’s chest. For a moment, he thought that she was dead, but that thought quickly subdued when he felt her slow, but constant breathing.

One of the guards proceeded to carry her unceremonially away from the doctor. A thin blue veil wrapped itself onto the mare as the guards dragged her through the facility’s floor. It was only when the guards dragged the beaten pony out of the room that the doctor grasped the true extent of the situation; her life could be in peril. Quickly getting up, he galloped outside his room and towards the guards that were now nearing a corner on the hallway.

“Wait!” he yelled, prompting the guards to pause and turn around. “Listen to me, and listen well!” the doctor said, practically yelling at the guard’s face. “You will take her to the infirmary and I want her to be treated! Properly! Do you understand me?” He glared daggers at the guard, who merely glazed dryly back at him. “I’ll have your badge if she dies. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

The smallest guard of the pair gulped and nodded quickly, but the bigger one merely snickered at the doctor, his face bearing a mocking smile. After a few moments of silence, he nonchalantly turned around and walked towards the big room by the end of the corridor labeled ‘Infirmary’, laughing as they dragged her limp body across the floor.

As they carried her away, the doctor couldn’t help but look at the beaten mare. She wearily opened one of her eyes -- the other eye, being too swollen, was incapable to -- and looked back gloomily at him. He saw her lips moving, but her voice was too low for him to hear.

The doctor kept his watchful eyes on the pair of guards until they had left the infirmary, leaving Pinkamena inside. He sighed, grumbling to himself and walked back to his room. He locked the door from the inside and sat onto his chair, rubbing a hoof against his temples before magically opening a drawer in his desk and producing out a bottle of whisky. He opened it up and downed it right there, not caring for drinking glasses or ice.

The liquid burned through his throat and he felt a warmness that irradiated from inside of him. He took another long gulp before levitating Pinkamena’s case record onto the table. After reading the scroll from top to bottom multiple times, he banged his hooves over the desk in frustration. Opening up his notebook, he looked over the many scribblings he had written about her; speculations and theories. He turned a few pages and looked at one of his most recent notes.

Dissociative Personality Disorder ?

He frowned and took another gulp directly from the bottle. Levitating a quill, he dipped it into the inkwell before pressing its tip onto the paper and doing a quick movement, snapping its tip.

Dissociative Personality Disorder ?

* * *

“It has been a long time, Pinkamena.”

“Judging by your tone, I’d say it wasn’t long enough.” As much as he’d hate to admit it, she was right. Ever since he began having these sessions with her, his life took a turn for the worse. He’d spend hours trying to analyze her case, thinking hard about everything she ever told him. Less and less time would be spent with his family until his ever-growing absence prompted his wife to divorce him. She didn’t want the house nor the money; she just wanted a clean separation in which each pony could go on with their lives. The divorce itself didn’t do much to the doctor, but the fact that little Juna wanted to be with her mother instead of him broke his heart. For one full week he has been living on his house all by himself, as his ex-wife took all her belongings and went to live with her mother.

He sighed and shook his head, trying to rid himself of those unpleasant thoughts. He gave one quick look to the mare lying on the leather couch, with her back turned against him. She had limped all the way from her cell, trying her hardest not to force the sprained muscles on her leg. He also noticed that her eye wasn’t as swollen as he remembered it to be four weeks ago. The cuts and bruises were almost completely healed, but she still wore a bandage on her forehead.

“Are you... okay?” his voice trembled the slightest.

“I’m fine,” she harshly answered. After a few moments in silence, she sighed wearily and turned her head to face him directly before replying in a more gentle voice. “Thanks...”

The doctor lowered his head and looked at the new report about Pinkamena that he received four weeks ago. It simply stated that she was due to solitary confinement for a month, making her miss her appointments. But what had she done, he hadn’t got a clue.

“What happened four weeks ago?” he asked, lifting his eyes from the paper in front of him to look at the mare, which had turned her head once more, looking at the wall. “I heard some the guards talking... the prisoners also had some rumors about something that happened, but I wante-”

“I killed a pony,” she answered nonchalantly, cutting him short. Her lack of empathy towards such strong statement didn’t faze the doctor the slightest; in the three sessions they had, he had plenty of time to get accustomed with her apathy.

“And how do you feel about it?” he asked, prompting the mare to breath out an annoyed sigh before turning her body completely on the couch.

“Bad.” His ears perked up when he heard that word; this would be the first time Pinkamena felt bad about killing somepony. The doctor noticed the contrast between her appearance and her demeanor; she wasn’t sad nor filled with remorse.

“And why is that?” he pressed further, trying to understand what exactly she had meant by that.

She brought one forehoof to her head and massaged her temples, groaning all the while. “Because it wasn’t needed... I mean- it was necessary, but her number didn’t come up.”

At the mention of her infamous list, his eyes widened. Soon, thoughts of being praised for being the first to have ever cracked the mare’s notorious psyche crossed his mind. She noticed the sudden change in the doctor’s posture, but didn’t act likewise.

“Then why did you do it?” he was barely able to contain himself. What he wanted most was to bombard the mare relentlessly with questions, but he knew that, she being herself, that was probably a very bad idea.

She grumbled something unintelligible before using her forehooves to get up from the leather couch, sitting on its edge with her body hunched forward. “Aren’t you listening to me?! I said it was necessary!” she punctuated that sentence by giving him an annoyed look.

“Yes, Pinkamena. But what do you mean by necessary?” He folded his forehooves in frustration, trying to find an opening he could exploit in order to indirectly ask her about the List.

“Oh, she just had something that I needed,” she replied, sounding juvenile.

“Have you tried asking her for it?”

She simply shrugged at him. “No. I made it of no further use to her.” Her head slowly turned and she looked in his eyes before breaking in a sickening grin, sending shivers down his spine. He stopped for a moment to ponder on her statement and to compose. Such powerful, certain words coming out in such a deranged way.

“How come?” he finally muttered, lowering his eyes from her fixed gaze.

“Well, she’s dead, isn’t she?” After she muttered that, he fought against facehoofing from his own stupidity; not only had he lost his opening to make her talk about her list, but he knew he made her his superior the moment he broke his gaze. He grumbled a bit before deciding that he needed to be direct with her about the List.

“Pinkamena, tell me about your List,” he said, the words a bit stern when they left his muzzle.

Her eyes instantly shot open wide. She arched her body towards him in a menacing way, making those frigid goosebumps crawl down from his back once more. He looked at her, but quickly regretted it when he saw her incredulous eyes fixed with his. “Is that an order?!” she nearly screamed. Both stood still for minutes, their gaze locked within each other’s; Pinkamena’s displaying her boiling rage and his, a primal fear.

He gulped.

“I guess not,” she said mocking him. She allowed herself to fall over the leather couch once more. “Even I don’t know how it works... It’s not something material, like a lottery box, in which you just pull a random number out... but it’s not up to me to chose from either... I don’t understand its logic, but I know it’s there,” she said, sounding frustrated. She sighed and closed her eyes. “I don’t like doing it without the demand. But I’m not a pony’s pony anymore... sometimes you just have to do things.”

Opening one of her eyes, she looked at the doctor with a frown on her face. “She attacked me, if that’s what you really want to know.” After finishing her sentence, she coughed intentionally, trying to make her voice a little raspier. She raised one hoof to the air and placed the other on her chest, as if she were making a Shakesmarean quotation. “Confront what frightens or offends you; reckless talk or insulting should never go unchallenged.”

With her absence explained, things were slowly starting to become clear, but the aspect of her List still stood in the doctor’s head, tempting him through the cloud of doubts. When he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him before he could mutter another word. “She came yelling towards me during lunch... she told me that the Princess demanded that I should be purged from this world. So that my filth couldn’t taint it anymore... Now that I think of it, I actually did her a favor,” she said, poking her chin with a forehoof.

“A favor... ?” the doctor asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Anypony who thinks that it’s okay to obey something blindly deserves far, far worse. I’ve only broken her neck; quick and clean.” She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows, anticipating his next question. “And no. I know that the Princess wouldn’t ask anypony to do such a thing.”

The doctor himself frowned, there was something about that story that seemed awfully familiar to him. He pondered on that thought, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember her name. He mentally shrugged and told himself that he would ask the guards about that mare’s name after Pinkamena’s session. If he could remind himself of doing so, that is.

“And why do you obey your List blindly?” he asked. Pinkamena’s demeanor changed; she didn’t like that question nor his taunt. Biting her lip, she refrained from exploding and changed the subject.

“I’ve never told you about some curious things that I came across in my... line of work, did I?” The doctor shook his head in response. “So many ponies... most of them begged for their lives when they felt that the end was nearing. Once they realized that, no matter how much begging they could possibly do, their fate was already sealed, they turned all their emotions towards me.”

“Mostly anger, sadness and regret... It was almost as if I was the source of all their agony,” she caught herself and corrected her statement. “The agony accumulated through their entire lives, that is; not only the end of it.”

The room was silent for a few seconds before she snickered and started giggling at the spectrum of memories rushing through her mind. After a few moments, she quietened down and resumed speaking, cleaning the tears from her eyes with a forehoof. “I often caught myself thinking about what I was doing... not stupid questions like ‘Is it right or wrong’, no. I thought about how much of ponies I was able to turn them into in their dying moments.”

"I'm sorry. How much of a pony you were able to turn them into?" he asked, completely confused. Pinkamena sighed loudly before she began to explain herself.

“In their dying moments, the ponies reveal whoever they really are. It is in their last minutes that they truly express every single contained emotion inside of themselves. I was able to reassure them that they weren’t dead yet. I was able to make them feel alive with the prospect of death. Their final catharsis...”

“Have you ever thought about doing it with yourself? I mean- have your catharsis?”

She giggled at his question, as if it was the most innocent thing he could’ve asked her. “Oh, but I am aware, doctor. And killing myself would just take away it all... but enough about this; let’s get back to the other subject,” she said, gesticulating circles in the air with a forehoof. “Once, I came across a stallion... didn’t quite know him. But something strange happened that day; when I started working on him, he didn’t yell at me, or beg me to live... he begged me to do it!”

“To... do it?” She looked at him, an expression of utter disdain plastered across her face.

“He begged me not just to kill him, but to torture him. He wanted me to punish him for everything he did. He was a real pony... he accepted what he did wrong. I didn’t pay it much thought at that time; but now I stand dumbstruck at how much unique ponies can be... and yet, at the same time, how common they show themselves to be.” Once again she coughed a little and raised one forehoof into the air. The doctor foresaw another quotation. “Only the savages regard pain as measure of worth.” She closed her eyes and allowed her raised hoof to fall limp on top of herself. Her hoof stayed in place, along with the unmoving mare; the only movement hinting that she was still alive were her breaths, rhythmical and calm.

The doctor quickly ducked and covered himself when she leaped into the air. “I’m tired, are you tired? This is getting boring,” she quickly said, smiling at him. Disregarding her pained leg, she bucked the door on the outside and marched out with her head held high, caring little for the guards that restlessly assaulted her with their batons; she kept walking as if she was completely unaware of their presence.

Such... eagerness to end these sessions... it feels...’ he thought, scratching his mane with a forehoof. ‘It feels as if she has somewhere else to be...

The doctor made a mental note that, since Pinkamena wouldn’t go into further detail as to how her List worked, he would try a different approach; asking her more questions about her Pinkie Pie persona, and why did she had allowed her take over on the session prior. He looked at his clock and sighed, Pinkamena was his last patient for the day; he was finally free to go home and rest. He looked down to her case file and frowned a bit. He instinctively gave his watch another check before unrolling the long parchment.

Still have plenty of daylight yet... yes, home can wait.

* * *

In the next sessions, not much progress was made. Sometimes Pinkamena would just stare at the doctor with a strange smile on her face, making him shudder every time she wasn’t in his line of sight. Others she would just make small talk about how the prison treated whoever was inside of it, both convicts and workers. She seemed to have a vast knowledge about the prison's dynamics and its inhabitants. The doctor went even as far as to think that she had some sort of secret notebook, one in which she would write down every detail about everypony she came across. He did not humor those thoughts and shrugged them; it would be impossible for a normal pony to be able to remember so much with such accuracy. ‘But still...

A few times he had tried to make her talk a little more about her List. But every time he did so, she would either yell at him, ignore him completely or sway from the topic with ease. No matter how many sessions were already spent, and no matter how much more he would be able to spend, the doctor felt that the once tangible truth was now slipping through his hooves.

"Pinkamena, tell me about your friends." He had tried his best not to sound either too demanding or pleading, but noticed when the mare visibly cringed.

"I love my friends." She faked a smile towards him, one which he was quick to acknowledge. The doctor couldn’t help but feel a little fazed by this answer; neither this was the answer he had hoped for, but it also made little sense, seeing that she had killed most of them. He knew of ponies that killed their loved ones because of some sort of paranoia. They often claimed that they were only protecting them. Others did it for jealousy. Pinkamena, on the other hand, was above all those standards.

“Would you-”

-mind telling me why you killed them?” she cut him short, mimicking his voice. “Yes, I’d be delighted to.” He acknowledged the irony in her voice. Pinkamena swore to herself that she would rather kill another pony right now, just to be sent to the solitary confinement once more and not be available to answer his moronic questionings. To her, it still remained a mystery as to why the doctor was still breathing after bugging her for so long. “What do you want to know?” She resented.

“Why exactly did you do it?”

Ughhh! Again with this question? Seriously?!” She looked at him with a deep frown. “You never ask me about the fun parts! You always want to know why... I’m sick of it!” she told him, gripping her head between her hooves in order to stop her storming migraine.

“I ju-” she silenced him by lifting a hoof.

“It was my playtime with Rainbow Dash that gave me the idea... After I was done with her, I had this strange feeling. I didn’t want to use her only for my recipes, no. I wanted her to be with me forever,” she said and began to smile, as if reminiscing of memories of old. The nonchalant voice was slowly giving way for a more hyper tone as the smile got wider and wider.

"I got so excited from the idea that I thought about going for the rest of my friends right away. It took me a lot to control myself those next days. But I can't have all the glory to myself... the ponies from Ponyville helped me to soothe my anxiety." She proceeded to giggle and, little by little, the giggle grew into a chortle. The doctor could see the joy in the mare's eyes; but he couldn’t help but cringe at this. He thought back about her case record; it would need a big revision, for Pinkamena, by all means, wasn’t an apathetic pony.

When her laughter died -- something that took longer than what the doctor had wished -- Pinkamena paused for a moment before going into more detail. "Fluttershy was the second one of my friends to go. I thought she would be the easiest one... I was dead wrong," she said, emphasizing the last word as she smiled at the doctor. "It was fairly easy to bring her over to Sugarcube Corner. But getting to her... now that was a real challenge. Not only was she able to untie herself -- even though that was probably my pupil’s mistake -- she is the one who lasted the longest."

Pinkamena once again closed her eyes, trying to live the memory to its fullest. "Even though she fought until the sweet end, she was one of the few that didn't blame me for what was happening. All poor Fluttershy could do was to constantly ask me why I was doing it. Well, she shouldn't have!” Pinkamena exclaimed, displaying a little bit of anger. “When I tried my best to explain it to her, she broke down in tears. She was a very dear friend of mine... that's why I made it so she could last longer." A gentle smile formed itself on Pinkamena's muzzle.

The doctor was now paying the price for his curiosity, even though he knew Pinkamena was keeping all the 'good' parts to herself. In that sense, she was egotistical; her memories and feelings were hers alone.

"Twilight was the last one of them that I caught." Her smile contorted itself into an annoyed frown, and the doctor knew why. "It's a good thing that Zecora's number came up before hers. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to get even near her... I needed to take care of that horn first."

The doctor suddenly winced in his chair. He had read about some middle-age tortures involving de-horning, it said that the victims often begged for their assailants to finish their lives, only to end their tormenting pain. It would seem a natural reaction; the horn was pretty much like a pony's spine, filled with nerves, ganglions, bone, a little bit of cartilage and -- what seemed to the doctor as her favorite part -- a direct connection to the unicorn's brain.

"Wait, tell me about this Zecora first." It was another name that he had some vague memories of hearing before; it was linked with the incidents, but a body was ever found.

She sighed wearily. "There's not much to know... I faked a friendly visit and asked her about unicorn magic and how it was supposed to work. I asked her for a potion to dampen one's magic abilities and told her it was for a prank. When I had what I needed, I helped myself to some soup, just like she told me to." She lifted her head to meet the doctor's gaze. "Did you know that zebra's flesh contains more proteins than that of an average earth pony?"

The doctor didn't know how he should possibly answer that if he could. Not hearing an answer from the pale-looking doctor, Pinkamena smiled and continued. "Twilight was a bit harder to get, but easy at the same time. She was always so immersed in those books of hers. It only got worse after Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were gone. So all I needed to do was to throw a party for her... she wouldn't come if she knew that she would be the only guest, though." She smirked at that, finding how easy deceiving Twilight was. “It was easy, I just had to make her drink that potion and I was soon able to restrain her myself. Unicorns are no match for earth ponies without their horns..." She gave him a wink.

"You... you cut her h- horn!?"

"Yes... but that only happened later... oh how lovely were those screams..." Pinkamena closed her eyes, reliving the memories once again. She sighed out of pure joy.

“And you did it without anesthetics!”

"I'm not a medical doctor. I don't have the luxury of buying anesthetics or painkillers. I had to do it with what I had on hoof. Sure I could have asked Zecora for a pain relieving potion, but that would ruin all the fun!" She gave him a smile and a playful giggle.

The doctor didn't know if she was trying to taunt him or if that's the way she really acted, but her constant display of sadism was really getting to him right now. He could only imagine Twilight's pain as Pinkamena slowly sawed her horn off. "So I gave her the potion, rendering her horn useless... and I got rid of it for her." She paused for a moment and subtly opened her eyes. The grin was back on her face as she cracked up some sort of twisted joke inside her head.

"Why are you laughing?" the doctor asked, deeply annoyed with the maniacal laugher.

"It's so ironic... I was the first pony that Twilight met on her first day on Ponyville..." She didn't need to finish the sentence; he knew what came next. "... and I was the last pony she saw before she died." The laughter picked up to a more maddening tone, but it didn't last. "I should've saved her for the last... now dear Applejack and Rarity are probably mourning over her."

"I'm sorry, Pinkamena. I don't think I follow."

"After Twilight disappeared, word got to Canterlot and both Princesses searched everywhere in Ponyville. I was caught off my guard, or else I would still be there." She paused and put a hoof on her chin. "Anyway, if Twilight's number hadn't come up, Applejack and Rarity wouldn't have to mourn over their three friends as they would be dead themselves.” The doctor didn’t reply, trying to make some sense out of this mare. “Sometimes I wonder what hurts them most: having three of their best friends dead or knowing that it was another friend who did it." She removed the hoof from under her chin and bounced up from the couch. "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to ask them about it!" she said in a jovial voice.

"Wai- wha- ask them!?”

"Oopsies.” She giggled and went to the door, bucking it and galloping off. The guards chased after her through the corridor, following her when she made a sharp turn to the left. The doctor quickly got up from his seat and went to the door, chasing after her. Whilst running, he levitated a syringe filled with sedative from his pocket; if worse comes to worst, he would be prepared. His chase came to an end when he reached the prison’s atrium, where Pinkamena ran in circles, dodging every attempt of the guards to seize her. They screamed her name and several other obscenities at her, but she just giggled and evaded them easily.

She doesn’t want to be caught, but she didn’t attempt to escape either... what is that mare up to?’

* * *

The doctor thought about what other aspects of the mare's mind he could start to study. Questioning her about the incidents led him to nowhere. So did asking about the List. He paused for a moment before he remembered the day in which Pinkie Pie was 'herself'. He made a mental note to ask the mare about it on that session.

Just as he was done thinking about it, the door burst open startling the doctor, whom jumped a bit. He saw the bouncing Pinkamena entering the room, smiling warmly to him all the while before he noticed that her hair wasn’t puffy, making it clear to him that this wasn’t Pinkie Pie.

"You seem awfully cheerful today, Pinkamena," he stated, unable not to share a smile of his own wth her.

"Yes, today is a good day." She seemed hyper and kept moving her hind legs, as if nervous or anxious to do something.

"And why is that?" he asked, a bit curious. After all, it was one of the few times the mare showed genuine joy.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She stopped bouncing and smiled at him.

'Okay, that went swimmingly...' he thought. Moments of awkward silence passed as the pink mare finally broke the silence.

"I think I like you, doctor."

"Hnm?" That caught him off guard.

"Not, like you, like you... I mean- I do want to kill you, but... at the same time... I don't. Weird, isn't it?"

Weird? Try downright creepy!

"Thank you, I guess." The doctor knew he made a big mistake the instant those words left his mouth. It was not something that could put his life to a risk, but his career. Psychiatrists were supposed to be impersonal towards their patients. He shouldn't show any sign of doubt or any other weakness, even thought the mare had pressed him into unconsciously committing said flaws on the sessions prior.

She smiled at him and got up from her chair. "Goodbye," she simply said, walking towards the door.

'Goodbye!?' he thought. ‘The session just got started. And she didn't even explain herself!’ That and the fact that he still needed to ask her about the day in which Pinkie Pie took place. 'Screw professionalism!'

"Wait!" he yelled a bit too loud, prompting the mare to stop dead on her tracks.

"What? I'm busy today." She said, not turning to face him. Her whole composure was changed, her shoulder blades arched along with her back as she sighed in annoyance; the happiness prior had completely died.

'Busy? What could she possibly do in a place like this?'

"I'd like to ask you, Pinkamena, about the day in which you let Pinkie Pie take control." Upon hearing his words, the mare slowly turned around to face him.

"What about it?" she asked slowly, avoiding his gaze directly.

"If you hate Pinkie Pie so much, why let her take over?" The doctor was expecting some kind of answer that went in between the lines of 'to make her suffer' or something like that. But the mare's reaction was very different. Pinkamena's eyes went wide as the mare cracked up a heartily guffaw. She was mocking him, and the fact that he didn’t know why made it all seem worse.

"Oh doctor..." She said in-between laughs. "... I thought you were the smart kind of pony." She kept on laughing as the doctor stood there paralyzed. He paused to wonder what was going inside of her head. She cleaned the tears from her eyes with her left hoof and looked at the doctor. Her happy posture slowly shifting into a one of deep concern. "You... you really don't get it, do you...?" She lifted her head and glared at the doctor, her mouth contorted in a frown as she raised left eyebrow.

“There never was a Pinkie Pie."

* * *

These months began to take a toll on the doctor. There were bags under his eyes and he felt a seemingly constant need to sleep; but even that couldn't relieve him of his anguish, as the nightmares seemed to constantly terrorize him. He didn’t know exactly why; he had seen death and insane ponies before. An immunity to such shocks was something most professionals in that line of work usually developed. He sighed wearily as he reached the interior of his apartment.

The place mirrored the doctor's physical appearance: a total mess. Pots and bits of food were left on the kitchen sink, completely unwashed; clothes were scattered around the floor, competing with the many books and notepads for space; almost all of them were coffee-stained. The doctor often found himself so immersed in his cases, that he couldn't think about anything else. Even though most cases took their toll on the doctor's mind and body, hers was by far the most exhausting one he ever took care of.

He placed his patients case files on the corner of the table that wasn’t stacked with papers and books. Sitting on his couch, he picked up a nearby coffee-stained book and started to flip its pages, not really paying attention to the words printed on it. His mind was filled with everything the pink mare said and how strange she had been acting lately. Setting his mind against another night's sleep, the doctor started piling some books which he thought could shed a light into the subject. When he was done, he felt that he needed an energy pickup; but dinner would take too long.

He trotted towards the kitchen and started to pour water in a seemingly-clean pot. When it was nearly full, he placed the pot over the stove and turned it on, allowing the gleaming embers to heat the cool water.

His ears perked up and an adrenaline jolt pumped through his veins as he turned around when he heard a noise inside his apartment. Without hesitating, he galloped towards his phone and called the police, alerting them that he was fearful that somepony had broken into his apartment. The police ponies were quick to act, taking note of his address and telling him that a patrol chariot was on its way to check up on him.

He hung the telephone and levitated a greasy frying pan, intending on using it as a weapon against any possible assailants. He slowly walked towards the living room, wary of his surroundings. He noticed that the many prompt-books previously stacked on top of the table were all over the floor. Bending down, he picked one by one to stack them neatly once again. He checked the names of the patients in the prompt-books, all were present.

Except for one.

His head turned up when he heard rushed hoofsteps coming from his bedroom. His heart raced in his chest as his magical grip on the frying pan tightened. He tried to walk as quietly as possible towards the bedroom, but the many books, scattered papers and notepads betrayed his position. He placed a hoof on the doorknob and lightly pushed it, prompting the creaky door to open slowly.

He entered the dimly lit room and slowly walked inside, using one forehoof to feel the walls until he could find a light switch. With a quick movement, the room completely lit, and the doctor noticed his bedroom window broken, glass shards scattered around it, indicating that someone entered his house via the window. Above his bed, something caught his attention; a familiar scroll.

Warily walking towards it, he placed the frying pan on top of the mattress and proceeded to open the file. The first thing he noticed was a white emblem with black numbers sewn to it.

176509

“Velvet Rose...” he muttered under his breath, blaming himself for not remembering her name and for not asking the guards about it when he had the chance. He slowly unrolled the scroll and noticed that they were getting progressively stained with a moist red. His hooves began to shiver and a chill ran down his spine. Near the bottom of the scroll there was Juna’s favorite hairband, completely soaked with blood. His breaths became frantic and he felt on the verge of having a heart attack.

“Oh Juna... no...” was all he could mutter, as he closed the file and tossed it on top of the mattress. He hugged the hairband as if it were his own daughter, tears brimming his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. Something caught his attention and he looked back to the file. There, in the back of it, written in a crimson liquid, stood the words:

I will make it of no further use to you

His blood chilled and his ears perked up as he heard a noise coming from the living room.