The Equestria-wide fallout from the events of The Secret Life of Rarity
Tragedy strikes. A nation affected. Old, the young, rich or poor, all alike to the touch of sorrow and fear. All are affected. All have stories to tell...
The various side stories of The Secret Life of Rarity. If you think of a good story for this universe, please send it to me and I shall include it!
Twilight Sparkle trudged back to her library home, a sleeping Spike balanced on her back. It was good that he was asleep. He could be happy in his dreams. Sleep would protect him from the horrors that life had dumped on him out of the blue. He loved Rarity, and now she had been taken from him forever.
Twilight reached the library and slowly pushed the door open with her magic. It was time for bed. Sleep would also ease her pain. Rarity would still be dead in the morning. She would still be banished from Canterlot and no longer the protégé of the princess, but sleep could be a brief respite from those sorrows.
Twilight fired up her horn and gently lifted Spike off of her back. She placed him in his basket, and tucked his blanket over him. She leaned in and kissed him on the head as he nuzzled his pillow close. She hoped that his dreams were bringing him joy. Luna would not be so cruel as to give him nightmares about Rarity now.
The purple unicorn sighed and trotted down the stairs to her writing desk. She had been here when they came for her, dozing off as she was writing an essay for Celestia about... huh, she didn't even remember what it had been about. The parchment was still sitting on the desk, but Twilight didn't bother looking at it. She encased the paper in her magic, and with a simple spell she turned it to ash.
The unicorn sat down on the stool in front of the desk and laid her head on it. In truth, even after all that had happened she still wanted to write Celestia, to ask for her help through this dark time. The sun goddess had always been there, had always been there to dry her tears or provide a solid rock for her.
Now that was gone forever.
She considered that now would be a good time to drag herself back to her bed, to join Spike in sleep in the vain hope that the morning's sun would be brighter that it had been the day before. Maybe she would wake up and discover that it had all been a dream, and that she...
If it was all a dream then Rarity was still an at-large serial killer. If it was a dream Twilight was faced with a conundrum, having now seen her fate should she not turn Rarity in. If she woke up to Rarity knocking on the door, as vibrant and full of life as she had been before Celestia put her down, should she turn her in?
Should she have done that from the beginning?
As she thought on she began to understand that... yes, she should have. As many as nine more ponies had died since they hit Rarity with the Elements. A sob escaped her lips and she raised her hooves to put her head in them, but she had to hold back a scream when her eyes landed on them. They were covered with blood!
With a whimper she fell back off of her chair. She quickly picked herself up and ran towards the sink in the bathroom. She turned the water on with her magic and began scrubbing them off. "No," she whimpered, "I... I'm sorry! I just wanted to help her!"
Despite her best efforts, the blood did not come off. It stayed there and Twilight wondered if it would not be a permanent stain on her. She hoped that she could hide it if it was.
It wasn't coming off! It wasn't going away!
With another whimper, Twilight fired up her horn and shot a cleansing spell at her front hooves. She flinched in pain as the top layer of her hooves was literally disintegrated, but the blood remained as bright red on her hooves as it had ever been. She bit her tongue as hot tears dripped from her face. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I thought I had cured her! I thought she wouldn't hurt anypony anymore!"
She looked down at her hooves again and, to her surprise, she saw that each tear that dripped on to them dulled the red and began washing off the blood. She gasped in surprise and began rubbing her tears into her hooves. "I-Is that what you want?" she whispered. "I'm sorry! I'd do it differently if I could go back! I'd make it so that you wouldn't have to have die! I'd turn her in and..."
Her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. "I'd let her die." She wiped her eyes with her foreleg and collapsed onto her haunches. "I'd tell Celestia and let her die."
The purple unicorn let out a whimper of pain and began sobbing quietly. She laid on her side and curled up into a ball on the floor, crying her eyes out. "I'm a bad pony!" she cried. "I just didn't want her to die! I'm just as bad as she was!" Twilight whimpered and slammed her hoof on the floor. "I'm sorry, Rarity! I just didn't want you to die!" She wiped her eyes again and subtly shook her head. "I'm so selfish."
And so Twilight continued sobbing on the floor until sleep overcame her, and she began dreaming.
* * * *
Twilight awoke some time later to the sound of birds chirping and the sight of Celestia's sun coming over the horizon. She lifted her head off of the floor and blinked away the traces of dried tears that clung to the fur underneath her eye. The unicorn took a deep breath and with a great deal of effort she pushed herself off of the floor. She lifted up one of her hooves and examined it. It was still a little sore from her spell, but the blood seemed to be gone.
Twilight shook her head and exited the bathroom. The first thing that she noticed was that Spike still seemed to be asleep. Yes, it would be best to just let him sleep in as late as he wanted. Let him avoid the pain for as long as possible.
On a whim Twilight trotted back over to her desk. Despite everything, Twilight still wanted to write Celestia, to apologize if she could. Maybe Celestia would show her mercy and things could start to go back to the way they were before all of this badness had fallen over Equestria. Twilight sighed and levitated a quill, ink, and parchment over to her, and began writing.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go like it did. I thought that the Elements would help her, I really did! I know now that what I did was wrong. I should have turned her in and... and let you serve justice once I knew what she was doing. I'm sorry that I killed nine ponies. I'm sorry that I was such a failure! I'm sorry that I made you so mad, I wish that I could take it all back, I really do! Please don't be mad at me anymore, I'm sorry!
Twilight groaned and incinerated the letter. "No, she hates me now," Twilight sobbed. "She hates me just as much as she hated Rarity."
No. Maybe if she put it differently she could make it so that Celestia didn't hate her anymore.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I know you hate me. I know that I deserve it. I just want to to be like it was before, but I didn't want her to die! She was my friend! I know that what I did was wrong, and I'll accept my punishment. I just don't want you to hate me anymore, even though I know that you do.
A fresh wave of tears began dripping onto the parchment, smearing a few of the words. Twilight's legs began shaking as her sorrow took the strength out of them. It seemed as if the weight of everything crashed down on her at once, and she felt alone.
"Spike," she whimpered. "I..."
Twilight began hyperventilating and she once again collapsed onto her haunches. "Spike! Spike!" she wailed. "Spike!
The baby dragon shot out of bed and ran towards his adoptive mother. "What is it, Twilight?" he said wildly.
Twilight began sobbing and wrapped Spike into a tight hug. She almost revealed her weakness to him, but a realization hit her that what Spike needed from her was not weakness, but immense strength to get him through this time. He was still a baby dragon who did not fully understand what had happened yet. She nuzzled the dragon and took a deep breath. "I... I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," she lied. "I know how much you loved her."
At the mention of his dead love, Spike's eyes began filling with tears and he began crying into Twilight's shoulder.
And so the two held each other, pouring out their sorrow while similarly providing each other with strength.
The sun rose over the horizon, illuminating all of the land and bringing forth the day. The bright rays acted as an alarm clock for the local schoolteacher, Miss Cheerilee, and her eyes fluttered open as a smile spread across her face. It was morning, and that meant only a few more hours until school started! Oh how she looked forward to see those smiling happy students. What was better was the fact that she was the one that was lucky enough to teach them!
With the grin still on her face, she hopped out of bed and began getting ready for school. After taking care of her hygiene needs and breakfast, Cheerilee slung her saddlebag over her shoulder and exited her modest cottage. She stopped to check on her garden for a brief moment before heading into town to reach the schoolhouse.
When she entered the town proper, the first thing she noticed was that the townsponies weren't the smiling, happy ponies that she was used to seeing early in the morning. Indeed, the ponies all seemed to be conversing with each other, whispering about some unknown issue that had caught their attention. A few of them looked... scared. Cheerilee frowned, but quickly decided that it wasn't her business unless it affected one of her students. A small town like Ponyville was frequently gossiping about everything. If it wasn't her business, she would stay out of it.
Still... some of them looked... scared, something that was unusual for mere gossip.
Cheerilee shook her head and ignored them.She would deal with it if it directly affected her and not a moment sooner. Besides, she would probably hear all about it soon enough.
Within a few short moments, Cheerilee's school appeared in the distance and she quickened her pace, eager to begin setting up for the children. She reached it with a grin, the gossiping ponies forgotten, and reached into her saddlebag to get the key for the schoolhouse. She went to go unlock the door, but was surprised to find that it was already unlocked, and even cracked open slightly. With a frown, she tentatively pushed the door open. "Hello?"
"Ah you're here, Cheerilee. Good."
Cheerilee breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the door open the rest of the way. She knew that voice. She entered the schoolhouse and smiled when she saw the county superintendent sitting at her desk. "Superintendent, what a pleasant surprise," she greeted. "I didn't expect to see you here."
The superintendent stared blankly at her for a second, as if scrutinizing her with an x-ray machine. Despite the fact that she knew this stallion and was aware that he had no ill intent, something about the way he stared at her unnerved her. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "You really don't know what happened, do you?"
Cheerilee cocked her head. "Know about what?"
The superintendent groaned and put his head in his hooves, further unnerving the schoolteacher. "You don't know about what happened last night?"
"I'm afraid not," Cheerilee admitted. "If it's what the citizens are all gossiping about today, well, if it isn't my business I tend to stay away from all of that."
"It is your business," The superintendent informed her. "In fact, I've come here today to tell you that you need to discuss the matter with your students. The official stance of the school board is that an authority figure, namely you, has to tell them what happened, to dispel any rumors and make sure that they have somepony to talk to if they're scared."
"Superintendent, I must ask that you please just tell me what's going on!" Cheerilee took a few steps forward and placed her hoof on the desk. "I cannot discuss matters I have not heard about."
The superintendent slowly nodded and reached into his nearby saddlebag to pull out a few papers. "Last night, all six Elements of Harmony and one of your students..." The superintendent examined the documents in front of him. "Er... Sweetie Belle, I believe her name is, were arrested. The charge was conspiracy to commit murder."
Cheerilee's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. She stumbled back as her brain tried to process the news. "That's... that's impossible," she whispered. "That can't be right. I know them, I know all seven of them very well. None of them are capable of something like that, there must be a mistake!"
"For six of them it was," the superintendent explained. "Five of the Elements and Sweetie Belle were released and cleared of all charges."
"What about the sixth Element? Who was considered guilty?"
"The Element that was found guilty of all charges was the one named Rarity." Cheerilee let out another gasp but the superintendent continued on. "She murdered ponies, Cheerilee. She was a serial killer. They executed her not long after her arrest."
Cheerilee' whimpered and burst into tears, collapsing onto her haunches. "T-There must b-be some kind of mistake!" she sobbed. "Rarity a-and I w-were foalhood friends! S-She wouldn't harm a fly!"
The superintendent sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Princess Celestia herself confirmed it." The superintendent got up from behind the desk and sympathetically put a hoof on her shoulder. "If you were foalhood friends, then I can't imagine how hard this must be for you to hear. However, I do have to ask that you be strong for your students. They look up to you, Cheerilee, they need ponies like you to help them through this hard time. You don't have to tell them any details, just the bare basics of what happened and that they can approach you to talk to you about it."
"I don't know if I can," she whimpered. "How am I supposed to tell ten year olds what a serial killer is, and that a pony that they all know was one?"
The superintendent motioned over to the desk. "We have an official statement that I put on your desk. Just follow that and move on." The stallion shook his head sadly and walked over to his saddlebag. "We have a psychologist that we've set up if you or any of your students want to talk about this. I'll leave her card on the desk." The superintendent slung his saddlebag over his shoulder. "Well, I suppose that you have to get school going for the day. I'm... I'm sorry."
The superintendent walked out of the schoolhouse, leaving Cheerilee sitting in shock on the floor.
Rarity was a serial killer. She was a serial killer, and now she was dead. "No," Cheerilee whispered to herself. "T-That doesn't make any sense! I knew her; sh-she wasn't a bad mare!" Cheerilee wiped her eyes and leaned against one of the desks. "We were friends."
As Cheerilee thought more on it, a singular idea entered her mind, overpowering the rest. They had drifted apart over the years. Cheerilee's mouth dropped open slightly as she recalled her friend becoming more and more distant, even while they were in school together. Did she... did she break away because she was killing?
Cheerilee whimpered and put her head in her hooves as the realization of it all hit her like a brick. She did her best to hold back her tears, but she lost the battle with her emotions and began sobbing there on the floor. "Rarity," she sobbed. "Why didn't you let me help you? We were friends, I could have helped you!"
As the schoolteacher continued sobbing on the floor, her ears picked up on the sound on the foals coming, being dropped off by their parents. They knew the routine, and they knew that they had recess for ten minutes before school started. She had ten minutes before she had to shatter the innocence of her students in a way that would preserve as much of it as possible. There would be rumors, whispers that they would hear. It had happened not more than a few blocks from a few of them.
Ten minutes wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to mentally prepare herself for what was about to happen, but it came and went before she could register it. She only barely managed to sit behind her desk in time for the children to come filing into the room, chattering excitedly with each other. She forces a smile on her face and she did her best to happily return the greetings that her students gave her, but even they could tell that something was wrong.
When the class had settled into their seats, Cheerilee took a few shaky breaths and stood up. "Good morning, class," she said weakly.
Now, normally the class responded to her morning greeting with one of their own, but the class was silent. None of them said a word or even moved. They just stared at her, wondering what the matter was.
Cheerilee sighed and glanced down at the paper the superintendent had left on her desk. It was only about a paragraph in length and the most politically correct thing she had ever seen, but maybe in this instance that wasn't so bad. She took a deep breath and turned back to her class. "Before we begin, I have something very important I'd like to talk to you about. Something very bad happened a few days ago, and I'm here to tell you what."
"Is it about Miss Rarity?" asked Twist. "I heard that she was arrested." Twist's ears flatted. "My daddy didn't tell me why, though."
"Well my daddy did," said Diamond Tiara snootily. "Turns out that Miss Rarity was a serial killer!"
Silence reigned once more in the classroom as the students processed the information. Most of them had contemplative looks on their faces, but Diamond Tiara seemed quite pleased with herself for relaying the information. Cheerilee would have guessed that Silver Spoon would have thought so too, but she was as quiet as the rest of them.
Finally the silent atmosphere was broken when Dinky slowly raised her hoof. Cheerilee took a deep breath. "Yes, Dinky?"
"Uh, Miss Cheerilee... what's a serial killer?"
Every scrap of Cheerilee's composure and will to be strong for her students was crushed when a foal as pure and innocent as Dinky asked that question. Tears began streaming down her face and she collapsed onto her haunches. She tried to hold back sobs, but one still made it out every few seconds despite her efforts. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I wanted to be strong for you."
"Were you friends with Miss Rarity, Miss Cheerilee?" asked Silver Spoon.
Cheerilee sniffled and wiped her eyes with a hoof before nodding. "Yes. I was. I was her first friend when we went to school together." Cheerilee cleared her throat and forced herself to her hooves. "To answer your question, Dinky, Rarity hurt a lot of ponies so bad that they died."
Dinky's eyes widened and she looked around at her classmates then back to Cheerilee as if expecting somepony to explain it to her. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. "W-Why would she do that?"
"I don't know, Dinky," Cheerilee whispered. "I think that she was a sad mare with bad feelings that made her do it."
"Was she a bad pony, Miss Cheerilee?" asked Snips. "If you hurt ponies like that then you're a bad pony."
"Oh she didn't just hurt them," Diamond Tiara giggled. "My daddy said that she cut off their skins and hung them on the walls of her basement! He has a friend in the guard who said so."
Dinky's fearful expression increased as her mind tried to register what she was hearing. She looked helplessly at Cheerilee and tried not to cry. "Is that right, Miss Cheerilee?"
"Dinky, please don't think about things like that," Cheerilee insisted. "It isn't going to help you at all if you do."
"But Miss Cheerilee, it's right, isn't it?" Diamond Tiara pointed out. "I mean, should we just ignore stuff like that?"
"Yes, Diamond Tiara, yes we should!" said Cheerilee angrily. "Nopony needs to know that. Not you nor I or anypony else! I will not tolerate that kind of conversation in my classroom!"
Diamond Tiara flinched back, unused to such a harsh tone from the good-natured schoolteacher. Cheerilee forced the angry glare off of her face and was about to tell her class to begin work for the day, but Twist raised her hoof, cutting off Cheerilee's attempts to move on. "Uh, Miss Cheerilee, I heard that Sweetie Belle was arrested with Rarity too. If they killed Miss Rarity, did they kill Sweetie Belle too? Did she hurt ponies like that?"
"No, Twist," Cheerilee assured her. "Sweetie Belle is okay, and she didn't hurt ponies. She didn't do the things that her sister did."
It's quite remarkable how easy somepony's limited composure can slip, especially in stressful situations. Cheerilee had been fighting to control her emotions ever since the foals had come into the classroom, and for the most part she had done a good job. She had begun breaking down, but she resolved to be strong for her students.
That was all ruined by one simple chuckle, and three simple words from Diamond Tiara.
"Heh, not yet, anyway."
With those words, the even tempered schoolteacher snapped. She ran up to Diamond Tiara's desk and slammed her front hooves on it. "HOW DARE YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT ABOUT ONE OF MY STUDENTS YOU ROTTEN BRAT!" she screamed.
Diamond Tiara's eyes widened and she began crying as she was bombarded by the wrath of her teacher.
"IF YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN I WILL MAKE SURE THAT YOU NEVER COME BACK TO MY SCHOOL, IS THAT CLEAR YOU..."
Instantly the her words and actions registered in Cheerilee's mind and her wrath subsided. "Oh my, I..." Cheerilee collapsed onto her haunches and began sobbing her eyes out. All traces of composure and strength for the benefit of her students had evaporated, and her students were left seeing a mare whose world had been shaken to the core by one of the worst events imaginable. "Diamond Tiara I'm sorry!" she whimpered. "I'm sorry that I did that to you!"
At the sound of her name, Diamond Tiara came to her senses and ran sobbing out of the schoolhouse, leaving her weeping teacher and a dozen frightened foals left. Cheerilee continued sobbing, but she looked up at her students and managed one watery sentence. "I... I'm sorry," she mewled. "Y-You can all go home for the day."
Slowly and silently the schoolfoals filed out of the building, leaving Cheerilee sitting in the front of the room. When the last foal had left, Cheerilee curled up into a ball on the ground and began loudly sobbing.
I awaken with a groan, blearily opening my blue eyes. Rolling over, I hit the alarm clock with a cherry blossom hoof, smashing the disturber of my rest.
“Huh,” I start, no emotion evident in my voice as I examine my slightly bloodstained hoof, “That used to hurt.”
Shrugging slightly, I climbed out of bed, paying no heed to the small trickle of blood from my hoof, and trotted towards the cupboard where we keep the broom. Opening it with magic, I took the broom back with me to my bedroom and sweept up the remains of the alarm clock into a nearby bin. I replaced the broom and meandered through the kitchen, picking up an apple on the way out the door to the library. On my way there, I passed very few ponies, even less than I usually do this early in the morning. Those that I do see all appear to still be in shock from the horrible news that spread through Equestria barely weeks ago, though they felt like years: that the Element of Generosity was a serial killer. Their hushed whispers barely make it into my ears, so I ignore them.
I remember the day I heard the news. A guard knocked on the door and informed me that my sister, Silly Idea, was one of the many that she had taken from us. He was so... formal about the whole thing, and there was a hint of routine in his words as if my sister's death didn't matter. Or it could be that this wasn't the only time he had done this. Maybe it wasn't. Morning, my roommate, was there as well, and he held me while I cried on his shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't really need to. Heck he probably couldn't based on everything that had happened.
Blinking, I stopped looking back on memories to find that I had already begun working and had somehow placed the Daring Do books in the ‘Non-Fiction’ section. Sighing in an exacerbated manner, I lifted the books off the shelf and trotted through the large library to place them back in the ‘Fiction’ section.
There, back where they belong, I thought, the lack of emotion carrying over. Just like Silly should be. Like everypony that… that monster killed should be.
The thought of that monster and what she did to those ponies, to my sister, coupled with images of my nightmares returning whenever I closed my eyes. I saw Silly being butchered, crying out for somepony to help her while laughter echoed around the dark room. It concocted a dangerous brew in my head, igniting a flame inside of me that I thought had died long ago. I had hoped that it would stop after the bullying stopped back when I was a colt. Feeling extreme frustration for the first time, I lashed out on the bookshelf behind me, bucking it with all of my strength. The heavy bookshelves crashed to the ground; the noise reverberating through the previously tranquil library.
Leaping out of the way at the last moment, I narrowly avoided being crushed by a large wooden bookcase. It made a large puff of dust to disperse around the room, something that the other bookcases had done in the few seconds prior. Coughing and sputtering, I turned to see Dewey Decimal, the owner of the Trottingham Library and my boss, approaching the fallout of my fit of rage. He was taking careful steps so as not trod on any books.
He stares down at the mess and sighs. “I’m going to guess that this,” he gestures a hoof to the toppled circle of bookcases, “Has something to do with what happened to your sister, doesn’t it?” I flinched slightly when he mentions Silly, but it was enough for him to notice. He sighed again and continued, placing a hoof over my shoulders, “Honestly, Unusual, I think you need a break from all these dusty, old books.”
My eyes widened in shock and my jaw hung limp for a moment before words start pouring out. “But, Dewey, I-”
“No buts, Unusual. Take the next week off. You need it,” I go to say something else, but he keeps talking over the top of me. “Don’t worry about this mess. This library has been passed down the Decimal line for generations, so cleaning it should be a breeze, even for a kooky old fool like me,” He finished with his trademark grin, which would’ve normally elicited a small chuckle from me. Today... I just didn’t feel it.
I sighed and pushed myself up. “Okay, Dewey,” I started with a sniff, lowering my head and folding my ears flat. I trotted towards the door that leads outside. “See you next week.”
A number of hours had passed while I was in the library. As soon as I got outside, there were lots more ponies wandering the streets; though it was still a pitiful amount compared to the crowds of old. A number of them were talking to each other in the same hushed voices; occasionally glancing towards somepony else. Others walked the streets in a silent depression. Most of them were unaware that they would run into something until it hit them right in the muzzle.
THUD-CLINK
Snapping out of my reverie, I looked down to see a pair of milk bottles next to the door with a note attached to one of them. Picking up the note, I read it and a small frown formed on my face.
Hoping things start to look up soon.
M.W.
Shrugging slightly, I picked up the milk bottles; reattaching the note to one of them. I pushed the door open and trudged into the kitchen. I placed them upon the table and returned the apple to where I found it. Retreating to my room, I flopped onto my bed. I made a small fwhump sound upon impact and slammed the door behind me with my magic.
“Ow,” I heard Morning’s muffled voice say. The door opens a few moments later. “Hey, dude, you okay?”
“No,” I replied in my smallest voice, the sound of which is further muffled by the pillow covering my muzzle.
“Come on,” Morning pleaded, walking right up next to me, “What happened?”
“I trashed the library and Dewey said I should take a week off.” I reluctantly respond. I buried my head further under a pillow only for Morning to pull it out.
“That’s what’s got you in here moping?" Morning scoffed. "Your boss gave you a week off?” I lightly nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t see anything wrong with a week off, ‘specially after-”
“They’re back,” I said quietly, interrupting Morning’s monologue.
“What are? The nightmares?” I feel Morning's hoof touch my back as I barely manage a tiny nod. My eyes are welling up with tears and my ears are flat against my head. I'm even avoiding eye contact with the pony that I trust the most, second only to my parents. I gasped when Morning pulled me in for a long comforting hug, “Come on, babe, you know they can’t hurt you,” he continued, exploiting the fact that I like it when somepony calls me something like that, while I cried on his shoulder, “Just let it all out. I’m here for you.”
“They started again a few days ago, but they keep getting worse,” I cry into Morning’s shoulder, sniffling every so often. “And now, whenever I close my eyes, I can see that... that thing doing Celestia-didn’t-even-know-what to my sister, and she’s... she’s crying, screaming out. She's screaming for somepony to help her but nopony does! I just…” I whimper and tighten my hug around Morning. "They didn't even give us a body. We couldn't even bury her because whatever she did to my sister meant that there was nothing left. My parents and I didn't have anything to bury and..." I trail off, unable to form coherent words around my sobbing. My body was convulsing from the sheer force of them, though I could feel something wet on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” Morning soothed, “Everything’s going to start getting better. It's going to be okay. Somehow it'll be okay.”
Sitting in the waiting room outside the therapist’s office, I glanced through a magazine. Many more ponies were coming in to see Dr Process or one of the other therapists who worked here since the ‘Ponyville Butcher’ incident, and as such, the waiting room was full of ponies nervously fidgeting in their seats. Dropping the magazine back onto the table in the middle of the room with a soft thud, I allowed myself a moment to reminisce. My mind wandered down memory lane, coming to a halt only a few hours earlier.
“What are you doing up this early?” Morning had asked, worry evident in his eyes and leaving his breakfast momentarily unattended. “I thought you didn’t work on the weekends.”
“Going for a walk. Be back soon.” Was what I had wanted to say, but after everything that had happened I just couldn’t lie to him. “Going to an appointment with Dr Process.”
“Cognitive Process?” he had asked incredulously, to which I simply nodded. “Well, whatever the reason you’re going to see a therapist for, I hope it goes well. For your sake.”
Morning did actually know the reason I was going to see Dr Process, but had apparently decided it best to keep his mouth shut. I was rather thankful for that gesture, because I probably would have collapsed on the ground right outside the door if he had said anything.
“Mr Concept, Dr Process will see you now.” The mare who had been stationed in the waiting room stated in a rather chipper manner, snapping me out of my reverie.
Standing and trotting into Dr Process’ office, I was whisked onto the couch by the mare in question. Even in the light of early morning, Cognitive’s alabaster coat still shined. Her blonde mane was done up in the usual bun style that she had whenever she was working, having seen it many times before as an observer.
“So,” Cognitive would start, dropping all pretense of chatting, a usual sight in her field of work, “Tell me about your nightmares, Unus.”
‘Unus’ had been a nickname that many of the townsfolk had called me back in school when we were all foals, and it had managed to stick all through my life. I didn’t really mind it that much, but it did make me feel less nervous about the whole situation. Starting from the beginning, I explained in as great detail as I could the terrors that had plagued me for many weeks now, including the interference from Princess Luna one night, and the gradually escalating goriness of it.
Needless to say, I’d have to keep coming back fairly regularly if I want any kind of reprieve from the dreams. The rest of the day went by without anything memorable happening, which was probably a good thing lately. If Trottingham became anything like Ponyville concerning freak accidents, quite a few of us would probably die of heart failure from all the stress. Returning home late at night after walking a couple of laps of Trottingham to suss out any hills and the like that are nearby, I find Morning half-lying on the couch, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth and his skates still on his hooves. Shaking my head slightly with a small smile on my face, I lift Morning up with my magic and carry him to his room. Putting him down in his bed and removing the skates from his hooves, I gently kiss him on the forehead.
“G’night, darling.” I say quietly as I walk out of his room, closing the door behind me.
Making a tactical retreat to my own room, I flop onto my own bed and am taken almost right way into the land of my dreams. Looking around quickly, I can’t see anything in the pitch-blackness that surrounds me, but I can hear an absurd number of locks being undone, then redone. The lights flicker on moments later, revealing the one room I hoped I’d never see again, though it looks slightly different for some reason. Looking around again, an alabaster mare approaches me, a devilish smile on her face and a tray of utensils following her.
“Y-you… can’t p-possibly be,” I stammer, tears forming in my eyes as she continues towards me. “You… You’re supposed to be dead!”
“And yet here I am,” she says, the devilish grin not even faltering for a moment. Stopping beside the table I’m strapped to, she places the tray on a smaller table by my head that I hadn’t seen. The glint of metal reflects into my eyes, forcing me to blink.
“W-where’s Morning?” I ask, looking frantically around the room for any sign of him. “Where is he? I was at home a moment ago. And so was he. Where is he? What have yo-”
“Do you mean this poor fool?” She antagonises, holding Morning’s severed head up above me, his fear-filled and glazed-over eyes staring down at me. “I dealt with him while you were still sleeping. He didn’t put up much of a fight, the rotten spoil-sport.”
“I…” I begin with a sniff, tears pouring out of my eyes at this point. “I never got to tell him that I love him.”
Dropping his head onto my barrel, she ignores my statement and turns her attention back to the tray of knives, apparently having difficulty deciding which to make the first slice with. Unable to tear my gaze away from Morning’s head, I furrow my brow and start struggling against the straps holding me to the table. Focusing my pain and magic into my legs, I manage to break the straps holding my hind legs down and preventing the blood from circulating down there.
“Don’t bother.” She starts without even turning to face me, still focused on her knives. “You won’t be able to bre-”
“Buck you, you stupid bitch,” I spit, punching her in the face with enough force to send her into a wall and shatter some of her teeth. Walking up to her limp form, I consider just leaving now and trying to start my life over again in a new town, probably Cloudsdale. Noticing her smirk and laugh like some kind of madmare, I instead decide that some retribution is at hoof.
“This is for Morning,” I say before kicking her in the chest as hard as I can, the momentum carrying her into the wall and forcing her to spit up some blood. “And this,” I continue as I walk around her and approach her head, lowering mine until I could easily clench her horn in my teeth. “Ish for my shishter.”
Before she can make some snide comment about her horn being in my mouth, I clench down on it as hard as I can, channelling my magic into my teeth to strengthen them so that they can actually crush bone. Screaming out in pain as her horn begins to crack, she starts kicking at my head in a desperate attempt to make me stop, her blows mostly deflected by the small reserve of magic I have left over from its greatly increased usage. With an ear-splitting screech and a bone-shattering crunch, I back away from her and turn to walk towards the door.
“I won’t stoop to your level, monster.” I say nonchalantly while opening locks, her horn still in my mouth, which I already slid over between my teeth and cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hit you the one place I know it hurts.”
Opening the final lock and swinging the door wide, I feel something puncture my chest and scream out in pain.
“You can’t escape from here unless I say so, you foal,” the monster says venomously, while my vision becomes darker and darker.
“AHHHH!” I wake up with a scream, sitting up and rolling onto the floor.
“What? What is it?” Morning calls as he barges into my room, finding me curled up in the fetal position in the corner and crying. “Hey, come on.” He continues soothingly. “Was it her again?”
And then I explained to him my worst encounter with the monster of Ponyville.
My name is Metal Worker. My son, Iron Worker, was one of the ponies that the Ponyville Butcher slaughtered during her reign as the deadliest serial killer that Equestria has ever known. It is about that that I am writing to you today. I only want to say this: HOW DARE YOU! How did you not know that she was a serial killer?! Did you know and only tolerate it because she was an Element of Harmony? Did you not see the signs? Did you not understand what she was? I read the papers, Princess, I heard how she got caught. She killed some minotaur in broad daylight right outside of your palace. You knew, didn't you? You knew, and the only reason that you executed her then was because now the whole nation knew what she was. I hope you're happy! If you had just killed her the moment you found out, my son would be alive right now!
Did you hear how I found out? A guard knocked on my door and revealed to me what I had been afraid of ever since I heard about what kind of monster you allowed to become an Element of Harmony. He had been gone for almost two years, and the guard before then had told us to give up, that he was never going to be found. Was that only because you let it happen right underneath your nose? She probably told you all about what she did to my son, didn't she? You probably had a good laugh about it, didn't you? What, was she your attack dog? Did you have her kill anypony that looked at you funny, and you put her down when she got out of control?!
Oh, and let's not forget how my wife is handling this. She hasn't come out of my son's room for a week now. She stopped sobbing three days ago, but she's barely eating, and I'm not going to try to force-feed her. But that's something that you'd do, isn't it? You'd probably sic your attack dog on my wife just so she'd shut up. Heck, why didn't you order her to attack my whole family?! What did my son do to deserve what happened to him? Who did he make mad that would have caused this to happen to him? I've heard the stories. I know her methods. My son died in pure, unadulterated agony, the likes of which I can't even begin to comprehend.
Either you knew and didn't do anything about it because she was an Element and/or your personal assassin, or you were so stupid that you didn't notice that a mare that powerful moonlighted as a serial killer, and I'm not sure which one sickens me more.
I hope you're happy about all of this. Knowing you, you probably are.
Sweetie Belle.
So, your sister was a serial killer. Ha. How's that knowledge treating you? Good? Well I hope you're doing well, because I just want to tell your bitch of a sister killed my son. You wanna know something? It's pretty much your fault. I know that you lived with your sister, so either you are literally the dumbest foal who ever lived, or you knew and probably helped your sister out sometimes. Heck, probably both. What, you didn't want to see your sister die so you just let her keep on killing? You know what? I know it's wrong to say this to a ten year old, but you are a selfish little bitch, do you know that? Why was the life of your psycho of a sister worth more than the life of my son? Like I said, it's probably because you helped her out.
How does it feel, knowing that this is all your fault? Were you there in the basement when your sister killed my son? You were probably her little helper, handing her knives or something like that. I should come to Ponyville to burn down your house. Maybe with you inside. That would teach you. Be some pretty fulfilling justice too, don't you think? You should just walk off of a cliff.
Yeah, kill yourself you rotten little brat. One pony responsible for my son's death is already dead, so why don't you kill the other one? I mean, you probably killed a lot of ponies when you were helping your sister out, so what's one more? Equestria would be so much better off without you. I hope you never have a kid. Your sister's family will be completely dead, and my son will be happy in paradise, which, by the way, nopony in your entire family will ever see. I would pay so much to see the two of you burning in Tartarus where you belong. I'd laugh at you, knowing that my son is avenged. It's what you deserve, after all.
Go to Tartarus, you little runt. It's where you're going anyway, why not get it
The magic holding the quill sputtered out, and floated to the floor as Metal Worker stared at the two letters he wrote. A tightness welled up in his chest, and his lower jaw began quivering as tears streamed down his face. His wife was still in their son's room in a borderline catatonic state, and here he was writing hate mail to two ponies who were likely just as devastated as the rest of Equestria. With a whimper he collapsed on the ground and began loudly sobbing. He only had enough mental processes to ignite his horn and tear the letters to shreds.
*Note: Amethyst Shine (my OC) is not the same pony as Amethyst Star a.k.a. Sparkler (background pony) Just wanted to clear up any confusion. ^v^
Amethyst Shine stared at the object in her hooves. Her light blue-violet coat was stained and her purple and sapphire mane was disheveled. Her eyes, normally a vibrant rose color, were now red and puffy. She had another nightmare. Amethyst opened the box in her hooves and stared at its contents. Truly the most amazing piece she had ever crafted, an intricate silver necklace, spotted with tiny pieces of dark amethyst and on the front, three perfectly cut light blue diamonds. The necklace sat in a box lined with purple velvet, Amethyst Shine had spent almost a year on it. Her profession was jewlery making, but she couldn’t have gotten off the ground without her help, it was the reason she moved to Ponyville anyway. Rarity taught her that jewel finding spell, given her advice on how to convince ponies to buy her merchandise, and Rarity had even told her customers at Carousel Boutique about her small little jewelry store! Amethyst adored Rarity’s work and only wanted to match Rarity’s skill for dressmaking with her own skill of jewelry making.
Amethyst Shine just stared at the necklace box. As she thought about her mentor and inspiration, new tears began to form, “I...I thought… How…? Why…?” It had been a week since she had read the papers, Rarity, the same pony who helped her get to where she was, had been a serial killer for fifteen years. Fifteen. Years. She had killed dozens of ponies, and had been given the needle that morning. It crushed Amethyst to hear the news, “Were you going to kill me? Did...did it ever cross your mind? I...I trusted you! I trusted you and now you’re dead! You were a murderer all this time!” Amethyst threw the box across the room.
The necklace stayed intact, unbroken from the many, many times she had thrown it across the room. The dents in her wall proved that. Now Amethyst regretted putting that protection spell on it, she wanted it to shatter, to break into tiny pieces like she did when she found out… But she couldn’t bring herself to remove the spell, that necklace was her greatest work. It had taken her two months to accumulate enough pieces of amethyst and another month to break them into small enough pieces so they would fit perfectly in the intricate, curling silver, which had taken her three months to get right. The diamonds were the hardest. Four months to find, another month to cut perfectly, and three weeks to make them sit perfectly. She was going to give it to Rarity as a thank-you present for all the help, and now…
Amethyst Shine wrapped the necklace in her light blue aura, she pulled it closer and held the box close to her. Another tear fell on the box, “Could I have done something? Could I have helped her?” The diamonds simply shined in the dim light of Amethyst’s bedroom, providing no answer to the questions she had asked. Amethyst sighed and closed the box, gently placing it on the little table next to her bed. She began to pace around her room, muttering to herself, “Night Rose has tried to get me outside for the past two days, she wants to talk to me about what happened.” Amethyst shook her head and stared down at her hooves, ”Oh, Rose. I’m sorry. I took your cousin to visit Rarity, and now she’s dead. I should have done something, I thought they would get along with Morning Bloom being so into fashion back in Canterlot. But when she said Rarity’s dresses were “unremarkable” and “mediocre” … I didn’t think Rarity would kill her! I didn’t know… It’s all my fault! I’m sorry, Night Rose! I’m sorry, Morning Bloom! I’m sorry, Rarity! I’m… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
Amethyst collapsed onto her bed. She had spent the last few days crying, panicking, and going through fits of rage, and now more tears were being added. She couldn’t believe that under that kind and generous exterior was a killer, a cold-hearted murderer. Amethyst heard the rumors, some say she murdered a little filly and her mother and then stuffed them and put them in that basement of hers. Ugh… That basement. Amethyst wanted to hurl just thinking about it. She heard enough about it to last a lifetime, blood and knives everywhere, pelts adorning the walls, it was disgusting. Amethyst turned over and screamed into her pillow, “How could you?! I thought you were a good pony!” Amethyst continued to sob into her pillow, “It’s all my fault… I should have noticed something, I should have helped her! If I hadn’t been so stupid, maybe more ponies would still be alive. Maybe Rarity would still be here.”
Amethyst laughed to herself, “She could walk into the shop and be like ‘Oh, hello Amethyst. The shop looks wonderful!’ and I would say ‘Oh, it’s nothing. By the way I got you something.’ and she would try not to take it saying, ‘Oh no, darling. You didn’t need to get me anything.’ and I could pull out the necklace like, ‘It’s just a little something for helping me out.’ and she would find it to be so beautiful and promise to wear it every… e-every… Oh Rarity! Why?! Why did you do it?! Why?!” Amethyst began to sob into her pillow again, “Why, Rarity… Why…”
After she calmed herself down a bit, Amethyst stood up and walked into her kitchen. Tea. That’s what she needed. A nice soothing cup of tea and then she would go to bed and everything would be better in the morning. She placed the kettle on the stove and looked at the picture on her wall. There she stood. Amethyst and Rarity standing in front of the newly opened Diamond Destinies. Night Rose had volunteered to take the picture. Amethyst had such a big smile it looked like her head would split in two, and Rarity looked as refined and elegant as ever, a bright smile plastered onto her face. Amethyst stared at the photo for another moment before turning back to the cupboard. She looked through her collection of tea leaves and blends and settled on a special jasmine tea. It was imported from Neighpon and it was her favorite blend. She held the cup close, taking in it’s aroma and the warmth it provided. Memories came flowing in, memories of a time from before the world knew about Rarity, before Morning Bloom came to town, a time when Amethyst could enjoy a cup of tea with her friend and mentor on a cool spring day. Rarity had actually been the one to give her this tea, she was such a generous mare. She always had been.
Amethyst sipped her tea as she continued to look at the picture on the wall. She eventually sighed and removed the photo from the wall, placing it face down on the table. She didn’t come down here to think about Rar- that mare. She came down here to try and relax so she could go back to bed. She glanced at the clock over the stove, 4:30. Amethyst sighed and began pouring herself another cup of tea when she heard a little bell ring. She had installed a bell that would ring whenever someone opened her mailbox so she would know the the postmare came. It was a little early for the mail to be dropped off, but she decided to check it anyway.
She pulled out two letters from the mailbox and took them inside. She opened the first one and began to read, “Dear Amethyst, how dare you go on like nothing happened. You probably knew about this all along and that’s why you don’t seem to care. You were probably in on the whole thing, how many bodies are in your basement, huh? Blah, blah, et cetera, et cetera.” She threw the letter in the trash. She had gotten about twenty letters accusing her of something simply because Rarity was her mentor in the realm of fashion. She got everything from death threats to ponies claiming to have evidence connecting her to all of Rarity’s murders. Amethyst was hesitant to open the other letter but did so anyway.
Dear Amethyst Shine,
I know you’ve probably been going through a lot. I never knew Rarity as well as you did, but from what I hear she used to be really nice. I know the town is giving you a hard time because of what she did for you, but you shouldn’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was all Rarity’s doing. After all, how were you supposed to know? Since you won’t return my calls I decided to drop this in your mailbox. Amethyst, it’s okay. I know what happened to Morning Bloom wasn’t your fault, you had no idea that would happen. Yes, I am very upset about my little cousin being murdered. No, I am not mad at you in anyway. Please, just come by and talk to me. It won’t do you any good if you never speak to anyone again. Please, Amethyst. I need my best friend back. Your friend, Night Rose
Amethyst folded the note and put it on the table. She would have to go see Rose later, after she got some more sleep. Night Rose was right, nothing would bring Rarity back, and nothing would change what she had done. Amethyst would only get worse if she stayed home moping to herself, she wasn’t the only person who lost someone in all of this. Amethyst sat on her couch and continued to think about everything, “I’m sorry for making you worry, but I’m going to get better. I’m going to go see my friends and put this all behind me. I’ll probably go see Sweetie Belle, too. She probably needs a friendly face with everything going on, that sweet innocent filly. I know how much you hate it when I get depressed, so I’m putting the past behind me.” Amethyst picked up the photo one last time and smiled for the first time in a week.
How they glistened. How they sparkled. How they shone.
But it would have been better if they were dull and lifeless.
Sapphire Shores sat on the floor of her dressing room, staring at a row of six immaculate, shining dresses that had been made for her almost two years previously. Normally she discarded outfits long before then, but these... these had been made with such flair, such passion, such beauty, that as a fellow artist she could not help but hold on to them. Every time they started showing signs of wear and tear she took them to the designer to have them repaired.
Ah yes, the designer.
Rarity. The owner of Carousel Boutique, and a step above a casual acquaintance for the Pony of Pop. Every time since the first that she went into the shop, Sapphire Shores always made a point to take Rarity out for a coffee as an additional thank-you to the designer, and she had even sent a few clients her way. Such a charming young mare, even if she hadn't really ever stopped being tongue tied by her presence.
Rarity. Passionate, talented designer of flawless outfits.
Rarity. A dependable pony, one who really wanted to please her clients and give them the best outfits that she could possibly manage.
Rarity. A Psychotic mass murderer. Responsible for the brutal deaths of at least eighty ponies, and possibly many more. The papers were never quite clear on an exact number of victims, but the basic story was always the same.
Iron Will murdered in Canterlot. Element of Generosity responsible. Guards find torture and murder basement in Carousel Boutique. Pony skins on the walls, taxidermied mare and her filly side-by-side, their faces stretched into lifeless grins. Rarity confessed to over eighty murders, but there could have been far more. They were only able to pin around nineteen on her officially.
She had read the story more times than she wanted to count from more newspapers than she wanted to admit. Despite the subject matter, there was something fascinating about it all. Even so, that left the matter of...
The outfits.
Sapphire Shores sighed and closed her eyes as she tried to think about what exactly to do with them. They still meant something to her. She still liked them. Somehow Rarity had managed to epitomize everything about her image with just some cloth, thread, and gems. No other designer in Equestria had managed to come close.
But she was a murderer.
Sapphire Shores' ear twitched when she heard the door to her dressing room open. It was her agent Flash Bulb again. She didn't turn her head to look at him. She simply didn't feel like it.
Flash Bulb scoffed. "Well, well, I never thought I'd see the day when Sapphire Shores herself was sitting on the floor. Normally you have to have a chair custom-made for each room you go into."
Sapphire Shores frowned and glanced at Flash Bulb out of the corner of her eye. "I ain't that much of a diva and you know it, Bulb. I was jus'..." Sapphire Shores shook her head and lowered her gaze to the floor. "Thinkin', I guess."
Flash Bulb tilted his head and walked over to Sapphire. He stopped just behind her and looked up at the rack of six dresses presented before her. "About these?" Sapphire nodded. "Why? What's so special about these?"
Sapphire frowned and looked up at her agent. "I wear one of these at least once a week, Bulb! I've had these dresses longer than I've had some of my supporting cast, an' you don't know what's so special about 'em?"
Flash Bulb raised a hoof defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I don't know the intimate details of every single outfit you have." He looked over at the dresses and nodded approvingly. "Yeah, I remember these. I like 'em. They really bring out your personality."
"Rarity made 'em."
Flash Bulb raised an eyebrow and tilted his head again. "Rarity? I don't know if I've ever met her. Is she..." All at once comprehension dawned, and his eyes widened. "Rarity?! Like... The Ponyville Butcher? That Rarity?"
Sapphire Shores' glare returned. "Honey, I'm gonna thank you not to use vulgar language like that around me no more. Her name was Rarity. Doesn't matter to me what she did or why; nopony deserves some name like that."
"Fine." Bulb tapped his lower jaw thoughtfully. "I take it you’re wondering what to do with these, then?"
"Mhm." Sapphire Shores grimaced and fixed her gaze on the one on the far right. The first one she ever purchased from Rarity. "I can't ever wear 'em again. It would be in poor taste to go on stage or out in public wearin' the outfits of a mare who killed that many ponies." Sapphire flattened her ears. "Too bad. I do so love these outfits."
"You could sell them." Sapphire raised an eyebrow and saw that Flash Bulb had a hint of an eager smile at the corners of his mouth. "This kind of thing doesn't interest you, so it makes sense that you don't know, but these six dresses are without a doubt the six most valuable things you possess right now." He snorted an put a hoof on one of them. "Even if they weren't studded with gems."
"Say what you mean or stop talkin' honey," Sapphire snapped.
Flash Bulb smirked and continued scanning the outfits. "Everything that The Ponyvi.... er... Rarity touched has suddenly become more valuable than Princess Celestia's tiara. There are collectors who would pay millions of bits for just one of these things, let alone all six. A Sapphire Shores owned Ponyville Butcher designed dress studded with this many gems? Your entire line for the rest of time is set for life."
Sapphire let out an indignant gasp and shot to her hooves. "Is that what you see this as?! Murderabilia?!" She slapped his hoof away and pushed him back from her outfits. "These mean more to me than that! These are the physical representation of a pony's artistic soul! Rarity's very artistic being was poured out into these outfits, and it speaks to me like no other outfit has ever spoken to me before!"
"Yes, her very soul was that of a psychotic murderer," Flash Bulb retorted. "You do know how many families out there are grieving because they got the news that their relation was confirmed as one of her victims, right? Those outfits might as well be stained with blood."
Sapphire Shores snorted steam and stomped on the floor. "I will not tolerate the idea that these outfits are anything less than pure art, darlin'!" Her hoof snapped in the direction of the outfits. "Killer or not, this mare created somethin' I ain't never seen before nor since with these, and that's gone now!"
"It's gone because the mare who made them died on Princess Celesta's execution chamber." said Flash Bulb evenly. "Face it, these may be art, but the artist lessens their effect."
"But does she?!" Sapphire Shores turned to face the outfits and ran a hoof down the back of one of them. "Does the fact that Miss Rarity was a serial killer lessen these outfits? They were made from her soul, and they speak to me. I feel like myself when I wear them. I feel like they're me presented in cloth and jewels! Should what she did take away from what I feel when I see these? When I wear them?"
Flash Bulb snorted and let out a single laugh. "Wear them? Sapphire, you can't ever wear these things again. You'd be showing proudly that you're wearing the clothes designed by the deadliest mare in the history of the Equestrian nation this side of Nightmare Moon. It's not like she just poisoned her victims either; she had a bucking torture and murder basement."
"I know that!" Sapphire Shores wheeled around, fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips. "I know that my favorite outfits are unwearable now! I know that these things are completely unacceptable to even look at, but I can't! They're art to me! They're creative expressions the likes of which I know you can't understand! From one artist to another, these are masterpieces of expression and creativity, and all you can see is muderabilia from them?"
Flash Bulb stared in silence at Sapphire Shores for a few moments before sighing and shaking his head. "Whatever. I guess it doesn't matter. You're not selling them, but you can't wear them either. You ask me if the 'art' behind them is lessened because the mare had a stuffed filly corpse hidden away in her basement and pony skins on the walls? Yes, I think it is. You can disagree, but I do."
With that, Flash Bulb turned around and walked out of the room, leaving the Pony of Pop alone with her thoughts once more.
Terrible happenings. Absolutely terrible, Sunny Day thought as she put the newspaper down. An Element of Harmony a convicted serial killer? Nopony should have to deal with that kind of thing. And the families of her poor victims. Her victims suffered, it was true, but they were in paradise now. Their families? They had to live every day with the knowledge that their loved one had been brutally murdered by a serial killer.
Sunny Day shook her head and pushed the newspaper away, just as the sounds of a set of hoofsteps came down the hallway. She put on her best smile and turned around in her chair to see her two daughters walking towards her, their own smiles on their faces. The younger of the two, Daisy Fields, perched on the back of her older sister, Sky Twirler. Sunny Day stood up and threw a foreleg around Sky Twirler's shoulders, nuzzling her as she did.
"Good morning, honey. How are you?"
"I'm good, Mom," Sky Twirler replied. She let out a single chuckle. "Hungry, though."
"Me too!" Daisy Fields said with the enthusiasm only a young filly could muster. "Can we have waffles for breakfast, Mommy?"
"Hmm..." Sunny Day tapped her jaw and ran through the ingredients for waffles. "Waffles. Yes, I think I can manage that." Her pensive look shifted into a smirk. "And I think we have some blueberries too. Think we can use those somewhere?"
"Yeah!" Daisy Fields squealed, clapping her hooves together as her sister carried her over to the kitchen table. "Blueberry waffles!"
"Coming right up."
Sky Twirler gently set Daisy Fields down at her spot before sitting at her own and reaching for the paper folded on the table. Sunny Day grimaced and ignited her horn, snatching the paper away from her daughter's outstretched hooves before she could peruse the contents.
"Nothing good today, kiddo," she said as she put the paper in the recycle bin under the sink. "It'd be a waste of your time. Boring stuff."
Sky Twirler grimaced and crossed her forelegs, her eyes locking onto the recycle bin. "The papers are talking about that mare in Ponyville, aren't they?"
"What mare in Ponyville?" Daisy Fields asked innocently, looking between her sister and her mother.
"Never you mind, sweetie," Sunny Day said with a fake smile. "Just focus on the waffles we're having, okay! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. Would you like a glass of milk while you're waiting?"
Daisy Fields grinned and nodded, prompting her mother to levitate two glasses out of the kitchen cupboard, and the carton of milk out of the fridge. After pouring the milk, she walked over to her daughters and placed one down in front of Daisy Fields. She walked behind Sky Twirler and set her glass down, but leaned in before she relinquished her magical hold on the glass.
"Don't talk about that mare in front of your sister, okay?" she whispered. "She doesn't need to be hearing about that kind of thing."
"Okay, okay," Sky Twirler grumbled. "I wasn't thinking, alright?"
"How did you even find out in the first place? It's not like I talk to you about it."
Sky Twirler scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding, Mom? It's all anypony at school has been talking about. In my Current Events class we've been discussing it for the past week. You would not believe some of the stuff they're saying about her!"
"Well you're right about that, and I don't really care to hear it." Sunny Day released the glass of milk and straightened up. "Just no talk of that kind around your sister. She doesn't need to hear it."
"She's probably gonna find out anyway," Sky Twirler muttered. "You think they're not talking about it on first grade playgrounds? She was an Element of Harmony, for Celestia's sake."
"Regardless, you're not to discuss it in this house."
"Fine, fine," Sky Twirler muttered, raising a placating hoof. "I won't say anything."
"Good."
Any further thoughts were cut off when Daisy Fields spoke again, having just finished off her glass of milk. "Hey Mommy, have you heard from Daddy yet? He hasn't written in a while."
Sky Twirler's ears perked up, and a small smile crossed her face. "Yeah, did Dad write? Did you talk to him?
Sunny Day grimaced and flattened her ears. "No, I'm afraid I haven't gotten a letter from him yet, but I know he's busy. I'm sure that he'll give us a nice long letter the moment he gets to a post office, okay?" Sunny Day gave her daughters a reassuring smile. "In fact, I'll bet he's working on getting that done right now."
The family moment was cut off when Sunny Day heard a loud trio of knocks on the door. She sighed and ran a hoof through her mane. "Sorry, girls, just give me a minute and I'll start making the waffles, alright?"
The two nodded, and Sunny Day walked out of the room and into the entryway of their home. She reached the door and looked through the peephole, and raised an eyebrow when she saw two royal guards standing stoically on the other side of the door. She shrugged and opened the door.
"Good morning, officers, what can I do for you?"
Good morning, Ma'am," said the guard on her left. "Are you Mrs. Sunny Day?"
Sunny Day frowned, but slowly nodded. "Y-yeah. That's me. Is something wrong?"
The guards exchanged a quick glance before slowly taking off their helmets. "Ma'am..." The guard on the left sighed. "I'm afraid there's no real easy way to tell you this..."
Sunny Day tilted her head. "Tell me what? What's going on?"
"Ma'am, I'm certain you've by now heard of the crimes of the Element of Generosity, and how she murdered as many as eighty ponies in her home in Ponyville."
"Yes."
"Well..." The guard quietly sighed. "Ma'am, you husband, Mr. Quick Talker... he was one of them. We found his remains in her basement."
Sunny Day stared evenly at the guards, not blinking, not moving, not even audibly breathing. She merely chewed over their words in her mind as they stood in front of her. It was the guard on the right who broke the silence.
"Ms. Day, if you would like to talk to somepony about this, we would be more than happy to--"
"You're wrong."
The blunt, but calm tone cut through the guard's words, and he began stuttering slightly. "Uh... w... I..." He blinked once. "Ma'am?"
"I said you're wrong. There is no way that my husband could have been taken from me by her. You see, my husband doesn't go anywhere near Ponyville. My husband works as an international aid worker in impoverished areas. He's never anywhere near Ponyville."
"Ms. Day, I understand this may be hard to accept--"
"There's nothing to accept." Sunny Day shrugged. "I accept that somehow you've made a mistake and mistaken the remains of some other stallion for that of my husband. It's as simple as that. I mean, he had a brown coat, and that's a fairly common coat color."
"The remains we found had a red and blue flying flag cutie mark. Was this not your husband's cutie mark?"
Sunny Day's calm demeanor slipped ever so slightly, and her ear flicked, but she took a deep breath and forced the even expression back on her face. "What, twenty million ponies in Equestria and not one of them has a cutie mark that might look similar to his? I say again: my husband works outside of the country. You're telling me that the Element of Generosity targeted my husband specifically, followed him out of the country, foalnapped him, snuck him back in the country to Ponyville into her basement where she killed him?" Sunny Day scoffed and shook her head. "Not that likely, if you ask me."
The guards exchanged another glace before the one on the left spoke again. "Ma'am, you said that your husband works out of the country. Does he ever go to cities in Equestria?"
Sunny Day nodded. "Yeah, sometimes. He gathers supplies for some trips, meets contacts, and so on. The organization he works for has offices all over Equestria."
"Where does he do things like that?"
She shrugged. "Oh, the usual places: Canterlot, Manehattan, Baltimare, Ponyv--" Sunny Day's ear twitched again, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, look, officers: just because my husband occasionally visits Ponyville on business, doesn't mean that this mare got him, alright? I mean, it's not like she killed every pony that set hoof inside the town, right? I m--" Sunny Day's voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "I mean, it's a small town, but not that small. I don't even think he went to Ponyville this year."
"Ma'am, how long has it been since you've heard from your husband?"
"It's..." Sunny Day looked down at the floor and flattened her ears. "Over two years. I mean, I know that's a long time, but he's doing good. He doesn't exactly have a post office in impoverished Diamond Dog territory, yeah? I knew his mission would be a long one, and they don't have a lot of contact with Equestria out there."
"And that's why there was no suspicion." The guard on the left put his helmet back on. "We did research on this before making our call. From the looks of things, it seems like your husband came back to Equestria to do some checkup work in the Ponyville office before heading back out. Both sides thought the other had him, and with the poor communication, delicacy of the political climate and length of the missions..." He shook his head as the other guard put his helmet back on. "We'll be in touch, Ma'am. We'll have you come down to the local police station and identify the remains, at which point they'll be turned over to you for burial."
Sunny Day gave the guards a weak, wobbly smile and a pathetic attempt at a chuckle. "Y-yeah, I guess I can go look at the remains. But I'm telling you that you're wasting y-your time, you know? It's n-not him. It's some other stallion. M-my husband is fine. H-he'll come home soon, and th-then I'm going to find you two and I'm g-gonna introduce you to my husband and sh-show you how wrong you are! You have him confused with some other stallion, I p-promise."
The guard on the left gave Sunny Day a sympathetic look for a few moments before quietly sighing. "Ms. Day, nothing would make me happier than us being wrong."
"W-well you are wrong, simple as that." Sunny Day's jaw wobbled, but she took a deep breath and ran a hoof through her mane to steady herself. "Now I gotta go make my daughters breakfast. Bye."
Without another word, Sunny Day slammed the door in the faces of the guards. She locked the door the instant the door closed and turned away from it.
They were wrong; simple as that. Some other stallion that looked like him had been identified incorrectly, that was all.
Sunny Day slowly walked back towards the kitchen, her steps becoming weaker when she heard the laughter of her daughters. Her jaw wobbled, and a tear streaked down her face as she crossed the threshold into the dining room. Her daughters sat where she left them at the table, chatting animatedly with each other. They looked up with smiles when they heard her enter. The happy, innocent grins of her daughters was the final nail, and Sunny Day collapsed onto her haunches with a sob as the tears came faster.
"Mom?" Sunny Day heard Sky Twirler stand up from her seat. "Mom, what's wrong? Who was at the door?"
Sunny Day gathered all of her will and raised her head to look at her children, her heart shattering further upon seeing their looks of uncertainty. She didn't want to shatter their precious innocence, but she had to. She couldn't hide it.
Scared whispers float through the air as a red maned unicorn named Vigil Just walks down the street. He is confused by these whispers. He knows what they are speaking of, that isn’t hard to guess. As to why they, and everypony as of late, feel like they needed to whisper, he can’t guess. There’s nopony to hide this information from, except for young fillies and colts. Even so, the likeliness of them overhearing is small, and understanding even less so.
Vigil approaches a large building in the middle of a road. This place used to be a common business place for many ponies, but now it stands desolate. And why wouldn’t it? After all, it was where the Ponyville Butcher worked, in both senses, and lived. Carousel Boutique. A large fashion shop turned home and later turned evil lair.
Vigil knocks on the door, but receives no answer. He had been hoping to talk to Sweetie Belle, seeing as she was the sister of the Butcher herself, but no such luck. Instead, he leaves a note he had prepared should this be the case.
Dear Sweetie Belle,
I would like to begin by sending my condolences. Your sister was loved by many, and her death is saddening to me, and surely to others, though they may not realize it. Many are blinded by grief, and understandably so… for them.
Your sister was a good pony with so much potential and so much good in her, and it was a waste of life for her to die. Many ponies probably are calling you a monster for being related to her, but know that it is a blessing to be related to a pony as brilliant as her.
Sincerely,
Kira
Vigil smiles and turns to walk away. Kira was a nickname he had come up with for himself, and it had stuck. No pony else called him it, he just liked the name personally. It was helpful to stay anonymous as well. He didn’t need his name being broadcasted.
Vigil’s walk home is pretty normal. Once he reaches his small abode, he sits on a bench outside and watches the street. Ponies are much more scarce on the roads than usual, and those that are out often walk with their heads lowered to the dirt roads, only looking up to see where they are going. It’s peaceful. It’s serene.
Look at this. Here we have peace. Ponies see Rarity as a monster… but she wasn’t.
Vigil gets up from his bench and walks inside, opening the door to his house and stepping onto his welcome mat, closing the door behind him.
She killed the wicked… she cleansed the malicious from Equus!
Vigil walks across the hardwood floor of his house, his hooves clopping across the ground as he walks. He approaches what seems to be an ordinary closet.
Rarity was a savior, nay… she was like a Goddess. Punishing the wicked and creating peace.
Vigil opens the “closet” door and walks downstairs into the darkness below.
Rarity did what no other pony dared do: she took justice into her own hooves. She did the right thing.
Vigil reaches his basement and turns on the light. A room illuminated by a single light. A table with straps on it sits in the middle. A large drawer sits against a wall.
She passed righteous judgement on the evil, and called us to do the same.
Vigil looks through his drawer and shuffles through many strange tools until pulling out a very unusually sharp knife. He grins as he looks at the silver blade.
Many didn’t hear, but I… I heard…
Vigil examines the knife, sliding the flat side across his hoof. He holds it against his hoof for a bit before making some slashing motions with it and holds it in front of him, shining off the one light.
I heard her call… I will do her last bidding.
Vigil stares at the knife. He struggles to hold it, as his bottom lip quivers and his jaw tightens. Many ponies were cruel, and mean spirited. Downright evil. They deserved to die!
So why can’t he bring himself to use this knife? He imagines stabbing an evil pony, and he feels that normal giddiness rise up within him, but this time he notices something else he feels. He feels sick to his stomach.
He imagines the corpse of his pretend victim. All the normal feelings of a job well done come in, this time accompanied by the crying friends and family of the victim… the ones who did nothing wrong.
He yells and slams the knife into the desk.
“Forgive me Rarity, for I am a coward!” he yells as the knife falls against the desk. He lowers his head and tightens his eyes, holding back tears. He can’t bring himself to do it! He refuses the path of righteousness. The wicked deserve to die! He walks the path of evil… he is wicked.
“You have failed me…” a sweet voice calls from behind him. He turns around and sees none other than the Butcher herself standing there, frowning at him. He gasps and bows down.
“Bringer of ultimate justice! I meant no disrespect! I hear your call!” he says, keeping his head lowered, shielding his eyes from her majesty. She had known what had to be done. She could do it. She hadn’t been a coward. She was a beautiful and shining example of greatness.
“And yet you defy it?” Rarity says, lifting an eyebrow. She steadily approaches him. Vigil is awestruck by the majesty of God.
“Forgive me Goddess of justice and truth! I am cowardly!” he says, raising his head to the sky and yelling.
“Cowardice is unacceptable in a perfect and just world,” her awe inspiring majesty says. She walks around Vigil over to the desk, grabs the knife from it, and walks back over to Vigil. Vigil stares in wide eyed wonder and admiration as the knife comes down.
I am unworthy, God! I am wicked and evil!
Pain, and blackness.
Death Report
Victim (Vigil Just) was found with multiple stab wounds through the chest area in the basement of 2519 Sparkler Av. at 6:01 PM. Neighbors reported hearing loud yells coming from the house prior to the death. The angle of the stab wounds implies suicide. A bloody knife, presumably the murder weapon, is found near the body. The death was not instantaneous. The victim wrote on a wall with his blood the phrase “GOD IS ANGRY. GOD IS BEAUTIFUL”
She was a murderer. I just have to keep telling myself that. I did my duty. No more, no less. I should be proud of what I did, right? I mean, the mare who killed so many, brought down by me.
So why in Celestia's name does it not feel good?
Why in Celestia's name did she choose me to do it?
I knocked back another drink and rested my head on my dining room table. I just wanted to forget all of it. No luck after four drinks of the strongest stuff I could find.
Ugh, I still remember putting that Faust forsaken needle into her foreleg...
I thought I'd feel good about it, you know? Not necessarily amazing, but something akin to feeling validated. Or something. I dunno. Like I had done a wonderful duty for Equestria. I was the one who brought the Ponyville Butcher down forever.
I just wish there had been two needles. The other guy could have split the work, and it wouldn't have been all on me.
I poured myself another drink and downed it in one gulp, flinching slightly as the feeling of the alcohol washed through my body. I groaned and rubbed my forehead.
I just wanted it to be over.
Why can't this feeling stop?
I heard the door to the dining room open, and the sound of heavy hoofsteps walking towards me. They could only belong to one stallion. My father couldn't sneak up on anything to save his life. I turned my head on the table and looked over at him. He was out of his guard uniform, which I found odd, frankly. He rarely took it off this early in the day.
I tilted my head in a nod and shakily raised my hoof to my foreleg for a pathetic salute. "Sir," I mumbled.
My dad shook his head and waved his hoof, taking a seat beside me. He lit his horn and moved the alcohol and glass away from me. "No need for that, Sharp. I'm not here as a guard today, I'm here as your father." He scooted his chair closer and draped a foreleg over my shoulders. "Wanna talk about it?"
I sniffled and wiped my eyes, trying to get the tears away before he could see them. I turned my head to the other side. "No," I whimpered.
"Hey, it's going to be okay, Sharp." Dad sighed and began rubbing my back. "I know it hurts, son. I can't imagine what you're going through, but do know that I am proud of you. Not many stallions could have done their duty in that scenario."
I chuckled bitterly and ran a hoof through my mane. "So what does that make me then, huh? A pony uniquely suited to be an executioner? The next time somepony like her comes along, I can expect Princess Celestia to knock on my door and ask me to do it again? Maybe if I do it enough, I'll just stop caring about it."
"Come on, you know that's not true," Dad said. "You're not going to have to do that again, okay? Even if somepony else comes along and we... need to do that, I'll make sure you're not the one, alright? You won't have anything to do with it."
"It's too late though," I groaned. "I've already got her blood on my hooves." I turned my head back to my dad, not even caring that he could see the puffiness around my eyes. "W-when I was told of what she had done, what she was capable of, I expected to see her for the first time and be able to feel the evil radiating off of her, you know? Like she was on the same level as Nightmare Moon or Discord. Instead she walked into that room and all I saw was a very sad, very scared mare who didn't look all that remarkable in the grand scheme of things. She looked average. That's all. Like the kind of mare I could walk past on the street any day of the week and not think twice about."
"You know what she did."
I scoffed and waved my hoof. "Yeah, yeah, I heard all the stories about what they found in that basement. Taxidermied mother and daughter, skins, faces, manes, tails, Celestia knows how many knives, the whole nine yards. That didn't change anything, though." I shakily exhaled and wiped my eyes again. "I didn't see a monster walk into that room, even knowing what she'd done. She came in with her head low and her horn removed, then just laid on the table without any prompting from us, like she was just tired of the whole thing and didn't care anymore. For a half second I wondered if we got the wrong mare. I didn't see anything evil about her. When I asked her if she had any last words, I was almost hoping that she'd look at me and say something like 'I'll see you in Tartarus' or 'I'll come back for you', or whatever, just so it would finally click in my mind that she was who everypony said she was, but she just stayed silent. Then when I put the needle in, she turned to her ten year old sister and sang her a lullaby, one she didn't even get to finish..." I sniffled and wiped my eyes again. Gotta keep it together. I couldn't cry in front of him. We were soldiers. It's not professional.
"I barely held it together when she started singing to her sister. I asked my partner about it later and he said the same thing."
"I can't imagine." Dad deeply exhaled and rubbed one of his temples. "But son, it's time to crawl out of the bottle and go back to your job. I'm not saying that as a superior officer, I'm saying that as your father who's worried about you. You swore an oath to serve and protect Princess Celestia and Equestria, and you're not fulfilling that if you mope around all day. It's been a month." Dad stood up and took the bottle and glass in his magic. "Now I'm not going to force you, of course, and I know it hurts, I really do. You're not a murderer, Sharp. She was. I know it was hard to see at the time, and there's no way it could have been easy to do what you did. Your mom and I, your brothers, your sisters, we've all cried for you, but at the same time, we're very proud of you." He put his hoof back on my back. "It's time to stand up, raise your head high, and move on like I know you can. You're strong, Sharpened Steel. You can do this."
I stayed silent for a few moments, mulling over my father's words. I didn't want to go back. I had considered quitting a few times, in all honesty.
At the same time, I knew he was right. I couldn't mope about this forever. I was approaching the line between being emotionally hurt by what had happened, and self-pity and moping. If I hadn't crossed it already, that is. I looked up to my father, and gave him a single nod.
* * * *
My first day back and I got throne room duty. So I had to stand next to Princess Celestia for five hours while she held court. To make matters worse, ponies were coming in to ask about the Ponyville Butcher. The ones coming in to ask about missing family members were the worst. I just zoned out whenever that happened. I wished I could sleep with my eyes open, then I could look attentive, but at the same time still not have to listen to anything else about that mare.
"Sergeant Steel?"
I was snapped out of his reverie by a kind, gentle, yet powerful voice that could only have come from one pony. I blinked once and looked over to her throne to see Princess Celestia looking down at me. I blinked again and scanned the throne room. It was completely empty, save for the two of us.
"Sergeant, your shift is over now. You are free to leave for the day."
"Uh..." I rubbed my forehead and slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, Your Majesty. Yeah, go home. Yeah."
Princess Celestia subtly frowned and stepped off of her throne, taking a seat on the floor in front of me. "Sergeant Steel, what is troubling you?"
"Uh..." I cleared my throat and bit the inside of my lip. Not now. Not with her. I'd look like I couldn't do my duty. "I-it's nothing important, Princess Celestia. Just tired, I guess."
"Sergeant, very few ponies in history have been able to lie to me, and none of them have been alive for a very long time." Celestia reached a hoof out and put it on my shoulder. "Is it because of what I asked you to do?"
I shuddered and began blinking back the first traces of tears. "P-Princess Celestia, it was an honor to... to bring that mare to justice. I am proud to have been able to serve Equestria, and--"
"Sergeant, remember what I said about ponies being able to lie to me?" She moved closer to me and draped a wing over my back, gently pushing me into a sitting position. "Tell me about it."
"Princess Celestia, as I said, I..." I let out a single sob and took my helmet off before leaning against her chest, allowing her to wrap her wings around me in a hug. I shouldn't have done it, it was highly unprofessional of one of Her Majesty's personal guards but I... needed it.
"Princess Celestia?" I couldn't help that I sounded like a small colt when I said her name. I guess she just has that affect on ponies.
"Yes, Sharpened Steel?"
"What we did to that mare. What I had to do to her. Was that justice... or vengeance?"
Princess Celestia didn't answer right away. She merely tightened her grip on me with her wings. When she finally did speak, she sounded more exhausted than I thought was possible from anypony.
"My dearest little pony. I have asked myself that same question every day since it happened."
I roll out of bed and my hooves fall onto the worn carpeting below, intricate patterns in the material long since disappeared, dead branches of a lifetime filled with wonder, joy, and sorrow. I cough, forcing air into and out of my lungs as I blink quickly. Tattered curtains hang like fallen angels against a backdrop of gray, the open window blowing them about and leaving them alone long enough to slowly fall back down.
My mind wanders back to the brighter days of the past. My older sister was always somepony I looked up to, somepony I trusted with my life. Her commitment to her magic arts was like none other I had ever seen before, traveling all across Equestria in search of ponies who would pay to see her perform. My sisters and I… we always supported her. Whenever her act was anywhere near Hoofington, we’d go see her shows, congratulating her afterwards and giving her praise. Whenever she was home we would stay up well into the night, trading stories and tales of her adventures while she pressed into the realm of our own lives, wanting to know everything we had been up to over the weeks or months she was gone. Whenever she left, my other sisters and I would be teary-eyed, wondering when we would see her again. She always stuck to a schedule. Trixie was like that.
My mother, however… wasn’t very supportive of her traveling show. Naturally, she wanted her eldest daughter to go into a “nobler” profession, even though she hadn’t been one to do very much with her own life, anyway. More often than not when Trixie was home she would berate her in front of us, making sure to tear her apart for missing this family event or this celebration. Her lectures and nitpicks would eventually begin evolving into shouting matches between the two of them, and one night she up and left without saying goodbye to my mother.
At least she made sure to tell us that she was leaving, the yellowed note that still hung attached to my dusty, cracked bedroom mirror was enough to remind me of that….
“Be back in fourteen days. Need to blow off some steam, traveling to a few towns in the south. T.”
When she didn’t come back, my mother blamed herself. We blamed her, too. When our father disappeared after one too many arguments about my mother’s drinking habits, we blamed her then. Naturally, the same happened with our eldest sister. For the couple of days after Trixie didn’t come home, my mother spent most of her time at the local bar.
We didn’t care until we came home to find her hanging from a rope made of her own bedsheets, swinging limply from a beam in her own closet, her chair kicked over to the side.
That’s when we knew we were alone. We assumed it was suicide; the evidence was obvious. The police ruled the death the same way, taking away the body for more examination even as my youngest sister, Charm, tried her hardest to keep them from taking our mother from us, her tears mixing with the water on the damp pavement underhoof.
Without a father, without a mother, without an older sister… the commitment to keep my siblings safe fell to another family, two new ponies to take care of the three of us. Maple Basket and Opal Crest, a duo of incredibly nice ponies who gladly took us into their home.
We were able to continue going to school, saving up money on our own so that we would be able to go to University once we graduated high school. I was nine the year mom died, while Jinx and Charm were eight and seven, respectively. We weren’t ready for the push and pull of emotion in our daily life that would ebb and flow continuously day by day; from simple, unobtrusive memories to choking back sobs in our school cafeteria. Nothing made sense. Nothing felt real for the first few months.
“Dixie,” my middle sister Jinx had asked as she offered her plate to me, “you need to eat some more.” I had shaken my head, managing a smile as I pushed her plate back towards her, our conversation isolated in the veritable cacophony of the school lunchroom.
“No thanks,” I responded, forcing a smile that I knew my eyes betrayed. “You need it more than I do.” Jinx looked at me for a moment longer, mouthing unintelligible words that I knew she wanted to say. Soon enough she looked back down to her food and continued eating, slower than before. Not the time or place.
That was two years ago. Some things have gotten better since then… some things have gotten worse. The carpet on which I stand was a remnant of that same house, the only surviving memory of my mother and father that I own other than a few family photographs scattered around the house. Most of these are located in my sisters’ rooms however; all I need is this old carpet to remember my parents by. Maple Basket and Opal Crest have provided us with everything we need, my clothes fitting better on my growing body than ever before. Our home is comfortable, our food is warm, but I know that it’s not what any of my siblings or I want. We want to be back with our parents. We want Trixie to come home.
I, personally, suspect it is because of the lingering memories of Trixie. But all three of us know that she’s not coming back….
It was two Mondays ago when we heard the news. My sisters and I were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying breakfast while Opal engaged his wife in conversation from across the room. The normality of the entire morning hung over me, a dark blanket of feathers ready to fall at any moment, their lead insides crushing my heart as soon as a few sharp knocks sounded on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Maple said, straightening up and untying the apron she wore around her chest. She quickly trotted towards the door and pulled down on the doorknob with a wing as I gestured for my siblings to continue eating.
A police officer stood in the doorway, and I tilted my head to the side to look behind Maple as I saw two more waiting on the path up to our house.
“Ah…” she dumbly mumbled, “good morning, officer, how can I help you?” The officer glanced at a sheet of paper he held in his magical aura off to the side, taking a deep breath.
“Are you Mrs. Maple Basket?” he asked, looking past her at the kitchen table. I continued eating my food, turning my head slightly to keep all three of the officers in my sight. Maple nodded and the main officer swallowed heavily. I could see something in his eyes, an emotion I knew all too well from days upon days of staring in the mirror, waiting for Trixie to return and this nightmare to be over.
“Are all of the Lulamoon children present…?” he trailed off, as if unsure what to say. Maple nodded and Opal moved beside her, an air of confusion evident in the way she held herself.
“Yes, they are,” Opal said, voice laced with the sour tang of worry. I tapped my hoof on the ground a couple times—although I only meant to tap once—and stood up from the table. Jinx and Charm came to either side of me, as we trotted to the door as well, pushing past our foster parents into the gray day outside.
“We…” the officer cleared his throat. “We have news on the whereabouts of your sister, Trixie.” My heart leapt and a smile broke across my face.
“You found her?!” I exclaimed, turning to both of my sisters and seeing the looks of both surprise and joy adorning their countenances, although their eyes showed signs of something much darker as they continued to look at the officer. My smile died on my lips, the warmth radiating from my happiness slowly turning to an icy ache. “Is… is she alright?” A tear ran down the side of the officer’s face as he turned away for a moment, wiping it with the back of his hoof.
“No…” the officer started. “She’s… she’s dead.”
Jinx choked back a sob and the officer moved his gaze to behind us, presumably looking at my foster parents.
“... dead?” Charm asked, looking at Jinx and I with wide eyes. “What does he mean…?”
“Charm…” I started, slowly moving towards her and placing a hoof on her shoulder. “Trixie… Trixie’s not coming back, little sister.”
Charm stepped back, looking between the officer and me quickly. A breath caught in her throat and she choked, coughing before straightening up. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the officer.
“No,” she started, a tear betraying her rage. “No, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, she’s coming back. Trixie’s coming back….”
I wrapped her into a hug just as she began to quietly sob.
My world shattered into a billion pieces, the glittering remains of a time long passed flying away from me as I desperately tried to grab onto anything I could in the endless ocean of sorrow that instantly gripped my heart.
A drop of pure despair fell to the floor, followed by another. Soon enough I was holding onto Jinx for dear life as well as she bawled into my chest, her heavy sobs wracking her body as her hooves dug into my back. The three of us were left on the porch in our circle of consolation as our foster parents followed the police officer out of earshot to speak privately. I didn’t care what they were talking about. All I knew was that Trixie would never again be part of my life, and right then the most important thing was consoling my younger siblings.
For more than six years we didn’t have a father, for more than three years we didn’t have a mother. But all along we had held onto the last glimmering sliver of hope in our hearts, longing for our oldest sister to return home. In less than a second however, that sliver of hope was gone, reduced to ashes and swept away by a red-tinged cloud of denial, despair, heartache and death.
A few hours later my sisters, foster parents, and I were seated in the police station, flanked on either side by officers who were trying their best to console us. I still hadn’t shed a single tear. To this day I haven’t. I hate myself for it.
Jinx hadn’t stopped crying, even as we looked through the identification images of our sister, mother, and father. They were all dead. All three of them were never coming back, never going to tuck me or my other siblings into bed, never going to laugh with us when we made up a funny pun, never going to cry tears of joy when we got an award, never to hold our hoof as they drifted into the realm beyond the way they should have.
But their lives were stolen from them, as we very quickly came to know.
By none other than the Element of Generosity herself, Rarity. To this day, none of my siblings or I can say her real name, but instead refer to her with utter contempt as The Ponyville Butcher. Three of my family members met their demises to the hooves of this mare….
When we held the memorial service for my sister and father last night, I spoke. I said everything that had been eating away at me ever since my father’s disappearance more than seven years ago. How I had gone from confusion, to denial, to longing, to anger, to loneliness, and then to complete and utter acceptance that he was never coming back. That he would never grace our family with his protecting presence ever again. That we would never feel the joy of welcoming him back into the house after he returned from another long business trip.
I was only five. I was only five.
Jinx cried. Charm shut her eyes and tried to block out the world. And I talked. I rambled on and on, longer than I ever thought I could address any one group of ponies about the same thing. I went on tangents, talking about how amazing my sister was, about her caring spirit, about how she was always there for my family and supported us in any way she could, even until her last weeks with us. She was only in her mid twenties. That was no time for a mare with as much energy as her to die.
We’ve tried not to think about The Ponyville Butcher and what she did to our family. We try to block it from our memory, not think about the irreplaceable damage she caused us and so many other families like ours. But as I watch the gray curtains flap lazily in the open window and feel the crisp autumn air grace my coat, I find myself thinking back to all the best memories I had with my family. Trixie teaching me how to use magic, my mother combing my hair and dressing me up for my first day of school, my father reading to my siblings and I every night before bed….
We miss them so much. I miss them so much.
“... Dixie?”
The small voice disturbs me from my reverie and I turn to face the doorway where Charm is standing, rubbing at her leg with a hoof. Her eyes are red and puffy and I feel a pang of sadness in my heart as I stare at her face. She looks past me and out the window with a forlorn gaze, as if there was something beautiful beyond those clouds, but the ephemerality of her vision is tainted as I finally answer.
“Yeah, Charm?”
She turns to look at me, her lip quivering.
“Do you think… do you think they’re in Paradise?”
I lower myself to my haunches and gesture for Charm to come to me, opening my arms as she runs into my embrace. My forelegs instinctively wrap around her teenage body, slowly brushing at her mane as she burrows herself into my chest.
“Oh… Charm…” I start, feeling my heart get caught in my throat. I hold my sister tighter and lean down, nuzzling her cheek gently as she begins to cry. “I know they are. I know they are.”
Outside the wind blows harder and I close the windows with my magic, bringing a loud silence to the room that is only broken by my sister’s heavy sobs.
Rainbow Dash stepped off of the train, Scootaloo perched on her back and her head and ears drooped. They had just gotten back from Canterlot where...
Rainbow Dash suppressed a sob for fear of disturbing Scootaloo.
Scootaloo.
Scootaloo was an orphan because of Rarity and now Rarity herself was dead. That rotten mare was a serial killer who murdered Scootaloo's parents. Rainbow Dash let out a small grunt of disgust as she walked in the direction of Town Square. She saw her cloud house in the sky and slowly took off in the direction of her home. She glanced back at Scootaloo who was still sound asleep on her back.
The flight to her house was only a few minutes. She landed on her front porch and pushed her cloud door open. The main room was exactly how she had left it. Her discarded blanket was still crumpled on the floor where she had tossed it when the guards had come knocking. She had been sleeping on the couch when the came.
Rainbow Dash shook her head and walked up the stairs. Her room was on the top floor, and in that, her bed. Scootaloo needed a good night's sleep.
When she entered the room, she gently slid Scootaloo off of her back and onto the bed. Scootaloo whimpered and shifted around a bit.
"Shh..." Rainbow Dash gently stroked Scootaloo's head and pulled a blanket over her. "It's... it's gonna be okay soon, Scoots. I'm gonna take care of you now, okay?"
"Momma," Scootaloo whimpered.
"You're gonna be okay, Scoots," said Rainbow Dash softly. "Rarity's gone. She can't hur--"
Rainbow Dash sharply inhaled as her words registered in her mind. She blinked back the first traces of tears and shakily put a hoof on Scootaloo's head. "Goodnight, Scootaloo."
Rainbow Dash walked out of her room and quietly closed the door behind her. She pondered getting her sleeping bag so that Scootaloo could have the bed, but Rainbow would still be in the room when she awoke. She didn't need to be alone.
Rainbow opened up her icebox and took out a cider. Popping the top, she took a long pull from the bottle before sitting down at her couch, placing the bottle on a coffee table in front of her. She stared ahead at the blank white wall in front of her as she began rubbing her forelegs. She bit the inside of her lip and rubbed harder, trying to make the feeling of the hoofcuffs go away. It had been so... demeaning, when the guards slapped them on her forelegs like she was some common criminal. She flinched when the memory forced itself into her brain. She needed another sip of her cider after that.
Rainbow sighed and laid down on the couch as she replayed the rest of the night's events. "A serial killer," she muttered to herself. "A bucking serial killer."
She found the idea still difficult to comprehend. Just the previous week the six of them had been at Sugarcube Corner laughing like they didn't have a single care in the world. Rarity and Fluttershy were giggling about something to themselves. Some side conversation or private joke between the two of them. The idea that Rarity would be outed as a serial killer and executed just a few days later would have seemed impossible. Rainbow groaned and drained the rest of her cider, tossing the empty bottle onto the floor. She'd pick it up later. Maybe she could grab another one.
Why bother?
Her thoughts turned back to Fluttershy. Rainbow couldn't imagine how she was taking it. She should probably go see her in the morning. Element of Loyalty nonsense, or whatever. If that even meant anything anymore. The Elements couldn't work without all six of them, right? Rainbow scoffed and reconsidered grabbing that second cider.
Nah, might as well go to bed, or something.
Rainbow groaned and got up with a great deal of effort. Her mind briefly flashed back to the feeling of the hoofcuffs on her legs, causing her ear to flick. She pushed that aside and got her sleeping bag out of a nearby closet. Scootaloo needed the bed more, but Rainbow could still be there when she woke up.
She never had to be alone again.
* * * *
"How you feelin' today, Squirt?" Rainbow asked, forcing a half-decent attempt at a smile on her face. Scootaloo didn't respond, choosing instead to poke at her cereal. She hadn't eaten a full meal in a few days. "Not too great, huh? That's fine. Take your time." Rainbow took a bite of her own cereal, taking the time to mentally berate herself for her dumb question.
"So... uh, anything you want to do today? Anything at all?" Scootaloo just shrugged and pushed her bowl away. She hadn't taken a single bite.
"Gonna go back to bed," Scootaloo muttered. "Wanna be alone for a bit."
"Oh, yeah..." Rainbow got to her hooves just as Scootaloo did. "Yeah, that's fine. Take all of the time you need and stuff. I might go check on Fluttershy in a bit, but seriously, if you want me to get you anything or if you want to do anything today that's..." Rainbow trailed off as Scootaloo went back into her room and shut the door. She sighed and flattened her ears. Scootaloo would open up when she was ready.
A knock on the door took Rainbow out of her thoughts. She perked her ears up and flew over the the door to look through the peephole. She flinched back when she saw a very official looking pony flanked by a guard. Rainbow whimpered and flew deeper into her house, rubbing her forelegs.
"Go away," Rainbow whimpered almost inaudibly. "I didn't do anything. Don't take more of my friends."
The pony knocked on the door one more time, but after a few minutes, they seemed to realize that nopony was going to answer the door. They exchanged a few words then flew away. Rainbow watched them go, glaring at their retreating forms until they were nothing more than specks on the horizon.
Rainbow made a noise of disgust and rubbed her foreleg again. Whatever. They seemed to be okay with leaving her alone for the moment. Her mind went back to Fluttershy as she flew back down to the main floor of her house. Yes, checking up on Fluttershy would be a good idea. Scootaloo would keep for a little bit.
"Hey Scoots? I'm gonna go see Fluttershy for a bit, okay?" No response as expected. "Uh... help yourself to anything in the ice cloud. I'll be back soon."
Hearing no response, Rainbow Dash sighed and flew out of her house. Scootaloo would come around. She had to. Rainbow would work as much as she had to so until Scootaloo began recovering.
Rainbow flew to the edge of town, ignoring the groups of ponies huddled around each other on the ground. Some of them even looked up at her before returning to their gossip. Doubtlessly they'd heard that she had been arrested with Rarity. Let them talk. They'd get over it eventually. She touched down outside of Fluttershy's cottage, ignoring the chattering animals. She walked up to the door and knocked.
Rainbow stood in front of the door, waiting for any sound to come from inside the cottage. After a few moments, she heard shuffling inside. The sound of hoofsteps grew closer to the door, and after a moment, Fluttershy opened up the top half of her door. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but she managed a small smile when she saw Rainbow.
"Oh. Hello, Rainbow Dash." She took in a shaky breath. "H-how are you?"
Rainbow shrugged and leaned her head against the door. "Okay, I guess."
"How's Scootaloo?"
"She's..." Rainbow sighed and ran her hoof through her mane. "She's gonna be okay, I think. She's not happy, I know that, but she'll come around, I hope."
"That's good," Fluttershy said quietly. "She has you to take care of her. I'm sure she'll come out of her shell. She's endured a big shock, though. I can't imagine what she's going through."
"No, I guess not," Rainbow muttered. "But, uh, how are you doing?"
Fluttershy's jaw quivered, and a pair of tears streaked down her face. "I'm fine," she lied, her voice marred by a sob. "I've been taking care of my animals."
"That's good." Rainbow gave Fluttershy a joyless smile. "Heh, you had any more guards around here? I had some important looking pony come by my house. I pretended I wasn't home."
Fluttershy sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Actually, they came by my house, too. They, um, wanted to talk to me about some ponies that Rarity..." Fluttershy squeaked and let out a sob.
"I don't care about that," Rainbow growled. "She's gone. She's not gonna hurt anypony else. The identities of those ponies are the business of their families."
Fluttershy gave Rainbow a strange look. "So... you haven't heard that--"
"I don't care," Rainbow said, straightening up and waving a hoof. "I don't care about who she did those things to. We're just going to not think about that kind of thing, okay? Unless she killed my dad, or something like that, I don't give a rats."
"But Rainbow--"
"No," Rainbow growled. "I don't wanna talk about that! Just forget about it!" Rainbow let out a frustrated grunt and turned around. "If you're doing okay, then that's great. If you need anything, just let me know."
Rainbow began walking away, but Fluttershy's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Gilda, Rainbow Dash." Rainbow turned back to Fluttershy, her eyes wide. "When they couldn't find you, they came to talk to me. I don't know if they told the others, but they wanted me to tell you when you were ready."
Rainbow's ear flicked, but she narrowed her eyes and began backing away. "Don't lie to me. You're lying! Gilda's fine!"
"They found her in Rarity's base--"
"I said she's fine!" Rainbow snarled. "She's gonna fly into town and... and you'll see! We'll have time to... we'll talk again and we'll get over what happened with Pinkie the last time she was here!" Rainbow sobbed and spread her wings. "We'll... we'll have time to make sure everything is better between us!"
Before Fluttershy could respond, Rainbow took wing and flew off. She ran her foreleg over her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.
Gilda was fine. It was some other griffin that Rarity had done that to. It was a tragedy for sure, but it wasn't Gilda. Gilda would hear about everything going on and fly to Ponyville to make sure Dash was okay. She was sure of it.
Rainbow flew over Ponyville, stopping in her tracks when she flew over Carousel Boutique. The place where Rarity had taken ponies to die. Rainbow narrowed her eyes and flew down to grab a rock. Rarity was no friend of hers. Not anymore. She had half a mind to burn the place to the ground. That would be fitting.
"Fuck you!" Rainbow screeched, hurling the rock straight through one of the windows. She landed on a nearby cloud and took a few deep breaths, glaring at the building as if her hatred would destroy it right then.
Her glare slowly faded away when the front door opened and Sweetie Belle poked her head out. She looked around with a look of confusion on her face, trying to find the pony who had thrown the rock. Rainbow grimaced, her anger ebbing away. She sighed and flew down to land next to Sweetie Belle.
"Uh... hey there, Sweetie Belle. You doing okay?"
Sweetie Belle flattened her ears and looked at the ground. "Somepony threw a rock through the window," she muttered. "Did you see who did it?"
"Uh..." Rainbow uneasily rubbed the back of her neck. "No, I didn't see anything. I heard it, though."
"Guess it doesn't matter."
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Rainbow asked.
"Just came to get some stuff. Going back to Mom and Dad's house for a bit."
"Okay." Rainbow nodded. "Yeah, okay. You need any help with that?"
"Sure." Sweetie Belle opened the door a little more to allow Rainbow entry. "It's just a little box, but I wouldn't mind some help."
"Sure thing."
Rainbow went into Carousel Boutique, doing her best to refrain from shuddering. Her gaze flicked over to a few guards who were moving around, some going into a side room that led to the basement.
Rainbow followed Sweetie Belle up to her room and looked around, finding a small box in the middle of the room.
"So you need me to--"
Rainbow's words were cut off when Sweetie Belle wrapped her forelegs around one of Rainbow's. She didn't cry, but she nuzzled the fur.
"It's gonna be okay, isn't it?"
Rainbow sat down and wrapped a wing around Sweetie Belle. A part of her mind, the part still furious with Rarity for her betrayal, wanted to push Sweetie Belle away. She was the biggest remaining reminder of Rarity.
But no, she didn't do anything. She didn't know what her sister was. She didn't need to be punished for her sister's evil. She squeezed tighter with her wing.
