The Cursed little Doll

by Kentavritsa

The Muffin: 2

Author's Note:

Pinkie Pie's POV

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Apparently; she had managed to get her hands, on the Muffin I require.

How and why, but she had presented me, with this one Muffin. Before she had gone to bed.

While she had asked me numerous questions, she had told me very little.

Why she had asked these questions, one could only guess; though I know she had seen the instruction, and chose to make sure I had what I need.

Now, the Muffin is standing on a clean, white plate; peeled, and ready for me to enjoy. It does indeed stand before me; where I am standing, as she is going to bed.

Just the one small detail, I am just a doll; until the time, as the bell is starting to toll its sentence.

“That does look good!” I ponder, as I am ogling the Muffin before me.

Since I can not move, I can but ogle the treat before me and mentally lick my lips. I can’t even do as much as lick my lips, as I am waiting for the time.

I hear the clock, as the seconds are ticking by; one by one, as the time is approaching.

“Tick, tock; tick, tock!” I hear, the seconds peeling in my head.

An hour before the time, of Midnight; I notice a shoulder Angel popping into existence on my right shoulder, and a shoulder Daemon on my left shoulder. The Angel is looking exactly like Rarity, for some reason. I can see the radiant, white coat of fur covering her entire form. Her brilliant blue eyes, fixing me in her gaze.

“Just a little bit more; the Muffin is right before your very muzzle, in less than an hour it is yours!” she points out.

“Forget the Muffin; you can take the girl, instead!” the Daemon is cooing, seductively.

”..And give up everything she could offer?” the Angle retorts; “This one sweet end delicious Muffin is just the first of many!” the Angle continues.

“This is just one Muffin, but you can’t expect her to hold up the deal!” the Daemon proclaims, maintaining its position.

I am shaking my head vigorously, in flat denial of this one latest claim. While I can not answer directly, bound by the spell. At least, I had found this one outlet; I can respond, even in this very limited fashion.

“If she would fail to deliver, on the promise; I am forced to do, what I have to do!” I ponder, knowing exactly how horrific the deed would be.

At least, I still have time. This Muffin does look delicious to me; knowing it should stay fresh and viable to me, for at least a few more hours.

“If only she could see me, eating the Muffin!” I ponder; “if she could see, just how much I am enjoying her gift?” I consider.

Yet; I am held in place, rigid like the doll I am. I can not escape, the bounds the spell had placed upon me.

Each second, counted; as if it had been a grain of rise or a speck of gold, measured on scale belonging to a Queen or Goddess? I am trapped within its grip.

As a Doll, I stand rigid and firm in place; incapable of doing anything, but waiting for that instant as the spell is temporary broken.

“The Ghostly hour; between midnight and one o’clock in the morning!” I ponder; “Or, maybe; it is the hour of the wolf, when everything is revealed, but far too late to do anything about it!” I then add.

This, is one of the critical instances; just like twilight, is the instant between what is possible and what is not.

I focus on that one Muffin, before me; ignoring the squabbles, between the right and the left. If I fall pray for the temptation; then who am I, am I still the one I had prided myself to be?

“Maybe, just maybe; this is my Twilight, as my fate is about to be set?” I ponder, trembling before what is about to come.

“The Muffin does smell delicious!” I mumble, to myself.

The closer to the set time, exactly at midnight I come; the stronger I sense the scent of the muffin, set before me. While I can not yet move, or even truly speak; I feel, how my skin is growing softer.

“Tick, tock; tick, tock; tick, tock!” I hear the seconds, as if they had been the thunder striking the ground where I stand.

The ominous sense of the time, how the instant is growing closer; is rapidly changing everything, to me. I feel, how it is growing closer, closer and closer.

“I am Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter!” I tell myself; “I love sweet and sugary treats; this Muffin is currently at the top, of my list!” I point out.

I feel the Angel and Daemon, slowly growing desperate; as the time is slipping them by, as if I am waiting, for the promised price. Of course, I am waiting, I can do nothing else right now; but I guess it is that price before me, the Muffin I am still waiting for.

“By Celestia, that Muffin does look delicious!” I point out, a few minutes before the time is before me.

As I am affording the Angel and the Daemon a side-glance; I notice how the peeling of the time, is taking its toll on them. Had I been a lesser Pony, maybe I would have found amusement in this; but as it is, I can’t quite bring myself to laugh at their fate now. I want to laugh, with them; not at them, as the case would have been now.

Oh, well; I can do nothing for them, now or at any other time. I am trapped in my position, still a frigid plastic doll.

“Maybe I could have asked them; how I came to be here, or how they came to be who and where they are right now?” I ponder.

Maybe it is for the better, not to know.

The seconds continue to tick by, and I stay rigidly in place. Just as Midnight is upon me; the Daemon and the Angle is exploding and evaporation. Their task completed, whether they succeeded, or failed. They did, what they could. Now, the choice is mine.

My eyes, locked upon the price before me; the Muffin, she had managed to place before me.

It is indeed still looking just as delicious, as it had as she placed it before me.

A moment later, I feel my body no longer rigid plastic; I take a step forwards, towards the Muffin before me.

I take another step, and another; until I am reaching the Muffin before me, stopping to enjoy the scent of the Price before me.

Would they come back, tomorrow; by the time I am promised, a new Muffin? Or, does the quality of this muffin, determine their fate; in more ways, than one?

I have no idea, and I do not afford them an instant of thought; as I stand before the promised Muffin, enjoying its last moment.

No. I do not intend, to merely swallow it whole; I intend to saviour every single bite of it, for as long as I can.

“Why waste this one moment?” I ponder; “it is my first Muffin, and it is looking delicious!” I ponder, with a final sniff in the air; “I am going to enjoy this moment, for all it is worth!” I conclude; as I lower my muzzle, towards the surface of the Muffin before me.

I take a measured bite, out of the Muffin before me; chewing it down, slowly. Then I take another one, and another, and another.

“Oups, I have nothing to drink!” I realize, a few minutes in.

My throat is starting to grow dry; but I continue eating, until the entire Muffin is devoured.

I lick my lips, as I swallow down the last of my Muffin.

“That was a Feast!” I conclude.

With my belly full; my hunger, is quenched. I am free, to move around and play all night.

“Maybe, just maybe; I should show her my appreciation, in some way!” I ponder.

I feel so alive. For now, I am no mere plastic toy. I am warm, in the manner a living Pony would be; not an internally heated toy, or doll.

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