And there were Totally Cupcakes, Too

Author's Note:

If you want grimdark Cupcakes gore death thing, read until the horizontal line. The funny-ish stuff comes after. Thank you for reading. Chickens.

I had this idea, then I wrote it. Because prompt.

No. I'm not sorry.

Red Velvet tried to move. To lift her head, roll, anything. Her limbs refused to function, tied to the cold stonelike surface with unbreakable cords. She could feel the ropes, biting into her flesh. She was alone in the dark, immobile, waiting.

The fear filled her throat and chest. She was helpless and trapped, just waiting for any of a million dangers to come out of the darkness and hurt her. A tear appeared at the corner of one eye, leaking slowly down her face as she waited.

Suddenly, a light turned on. Velvet flinched, her eyes shutting against the glare. She slowly opened her eyes to take in the scene the new light had created for her.

The first thing she saw was a concrete ceiling, splattered with blood.

Velvet tried to scream. A wad of cloth prevented her, instead causing her to cough silently. Another tear followed the first one, the fear redoubling along with the sudden scent of blood.

Something else moved into her vision. A cheery mare, grinning widely, her coat a bright bubble-gum pink, her mane wild and poofy. She walked with a springy bounce and hummed a tune that sounded very much out of place. Velvet tried to scream, to make a noise, to communicate with this mare. She was so near, yet so unreachable to the bound and gagged pony.

Suddenly, the pink one turned her head. It wasn't a random action. She had known that Velvet was there, and she could feel a faint shiver in her spine. Her apprehension increased as the mare bounced toward her. That cheerful grin suddenly had a menacing edge to it. It was the grin of a madmare now.

She shuddered as the pink mare checked her bonds, humming and aha-ing and and muttering to herself. She shook as she reached aside, and quailed as she lifted a steel pole supporting a large buzzsaw. The pink mare grinned.

"Hiya, Velvet!" she said. Velvet quaked under the pink one's dangerous gaze. "I was thinking you'd never wake up!"

The pink mare spun the saw blade fondly. "I'm glad you're up! Although, I suppose, since you're down right now, I should say 'Glad that you're down'!" She chuckled at her joke. "My name is Pinkie Pie, by the way. Thought you might like to know, seeing as I'm the last pony you'll ever see!"

Velvet felt a dark sense of foreboding pierce the haze of fear. Some part of her knew that she had no chance.

Pinkie Pie twirled the buzzsaw again. It started to rumble, some concealed motor making the blade spin and blur. "Well, no use dilly-dallying!" she said. "Let's get started!"

Red Velvet felt a final flash of fear before the saw hit.

Blinding, dizzying pain came from her stomach. She could see thick blood staining Pinkie's face. It didn't seem to bother her. Then Velvet's vision blurred in a haze of pain unlike any that she'd ever known. She tried to scream, but the gag prevented her. All she could do was cry, her tears mixing with the sticky blood on her face. Pinkie's grin widened as she plunged the buzzsaw deeper.

Then she spoke. Velvet could clearly hear her, despite the horrific agony she was in.

"What, Reddie? Are you really that surprised?" Even when no response came, she continued. "Well, that's good, because I looooove surprises! What did you think happened to Strawberry Cream? To Chocolate Sprinkle?"

Velvet's tears only flowed faster at the mention of those names. Her friends, her lifetime friends... Had they met the same end as she would? One look into Pinkie's eyes confirmed that. Yes. Yes, they had. A sob went through Velvet's throat even as Pinkie delicately cut the flesh off of her ribs, peeling it back with patience, almost with care. Tears flowed freely down Velvet's face.

The pain only grew worse as Pinkie continued. She sawed through Velvet's limbs, blood soaking the cold surface she was on. The blood soaked Velvet in warm stickiness. She could barely feel the blood through the raw agony she was in. The pain was almost as bad as the guilt that she had let this happen to her friends.

But what could she have done? Even as the skin was taken from her legs, she could feel the pain receding. Was she finally dying, or were her nerves simply overloading, shutting out the pain? She couldn't tell. Not that it mattered much, anyway; Her limbs were useless, and she wouldn't be able to move three steps without bleeding out. It did provide a nice opportunity for reflection, she decided. She felt oddly at peace...

Until Pinkie ditched the skinning and hacked one of her legs off. Velvet rediscovered pain as blood started streaming from her missing limb. Velvet reflected on this. She couldn't possibly have much blood left now, and even as she thought that, blackness crept along the edges of her vision. The pain stopped being painful, the light darkened, and even Pinkie Pie's bloodstained face seemed oddly inconsequential. She would have greeted her friends but for the gag.

A smile crossed her tearstained face as the saw blade cleaved her skull in two.

Mr. Cake raised an eyebrow as he looked at his wife. "What the hay?"

Mrs. Cake simply shrugged. "She does that every time we come here. I've gotten used to it," she replied.

They were sitting outside a cafe. The sun was bright, the breeze was wonderfully cool under the cloth umbrella, and Pinkie was doing something that went beyond weird.

Pinkie Pie sat across from the Cakes. One a small plate in front of her, a very battered-looking red velvet cupcake leaked creamy white filling. It was covered in many-colored silly string from a can that rolled beside her. Pinkie was giggling, spinning the round blade of a pizza cutter. She suddenly lunged farther than was strictly necessary, driving the pizza cutter into the cupcake. She then carefully took two dark-red chunks, put icing on them, and stuck them to a peculiar small object nearby.

Mr. Cake stared at her. "What the hay?" he repeated.

His wife watched Pinkie, a faintly amused smirk on her face. "She brutally mutilates cupcakes and turns them into ponies," she finally said. "And she imagines them dying horribly."

"Okay, that's just plain bizarre," Mr. Cake replied, worry written all over his face.

Mrs. Cake rolled her eyes at Pinkie before continuing. "Well, it'd be much worse if it were the other way around."

Pinkie suddenly raised her head. She gasped, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. "How'd you guess?"

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