Gone
Pinkie Pie landed ungracefully with a thud on the floor. Her hind legs lagged behind her, resting on her bed. She pulled them off and they joined her in a slump on the carpet. The piercing sound of her alarm clock rang a few feet away on her nightstand.
Pinkie Pie groaned and dug a part in her frizzy mane, exposing her face. She tried to force her eyes to open, but the soft light emanating from her bedroom window, even with the curtains drawn, was blinding to her.
After a few moments, Pinkie was able to part her eyelids. Her vision was still strained and blurry with sleepy tears, but she could make out the shape of her buzzing alarm.
Pinkie flopped over to the alarm and made a lunge for it, reaching a hoof up to hit the snooze. Her hoof made contact with the clock, but missed the target. The alarm flew off of the table and landed with a crack behind it. The alarm went silent.
With a growl, Pinkie reached under the nightstand and clawed at the alarm. She dragged it out from behind the stand, and examined it. Sure enough, there was a large crack that divided the clock, almost in half.
“That’s the second one this week…,” Pinkie sighed, then shut her eyes.
An hour or so passed before Pinkie Pie regained consciousness. Waking on her own, she was much more agreeable with the morning. She grunted as she stood, the firm floor had made her back ache.
Pinkie shook her head vigorously, forcing life into her brain and causing her mane to poof into its typical managed chaos. She stretched her legs, extending herself vertically.
“Much better!” Pinkie announced. “Why does waking up have to be so much work?” She giggled and bounded to the window.
“Goooood morning, Ponyville!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she threw open the window. The streets were silent in response. Pinkie blinked. Her greeting echoed back to her, faded and distorted.
“Well that's odd…” Pinkie muttered. “I wonder what the Cakes are up to!” She descended the stairs and entered the main floor of the bakery. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Cake were at the counter.
“Mrs. Cake?” Pinkie called into the kitchen. No response.
“Mr. Cake?” Pinkie called into the storeroom. No response.
Pinkie frowned. The Cakes must have gone out this morning. And without even telling her! Pinkie sighed, “This is what I get for sleeping in.”
“Well, with no Cakes here, the bakery must be closed. Guess I can go for a walk and see all my friends!”
Pinkie bounced to the front door. She cocked her head when she saw the open sign. From inside it read 'closed', which meant it read 'open' on the outside!
“Silly Cakes, must have been in a hurry,” Pinkie chuckled as she flipped the sign for them.
Pinkie trotted lightly through the streets, smiling broadly and humming to herself. She tried to listen for the sound of birds chirping, to harmonize with them, but still the streets were quiet.
Pinkie stopped in the center of the road. She looked around. There wasn't a pony in sight. She perked her ears. The only sound was an easy flutter of wind.
"Where is everypony?" Pinkie wondered aloud. She knew there were no events going on today. The only birthday was Kindle Hearthfire's, and his party wasn't until the evening.
There was a weight in Pinkie's stomach. The only time the streets were this empty was when there was danger about. She quickly dove into the nearest bush, hiding best she could.
Pinkie scanned the streets. Everything appeared quiet... like it had been all morning. She slunk through the hedge to the house the shrubbery sat in front of. She knocked on the door.
"Hello?" Pinkie spoke in a harsh whisper. "Is anypony home? What's going on?" She stood for a few moments, glancing left and right for any signs of danger. There was no response from the door.
"Oooh, come on!" Pinkie pleaded as she moved to the next house. She knocked on the door with the same results. Sweat formed on Pinkie's brow. She ran in place; her heart was pumping her full of energy. She raced to the next house.
"Tulip!?" Pinkie all but screamed, "Please, let me in! Are you there?"
The door was silent.
Pinkie turned around to look at the street. There was nothing there, far as she could see either way. Pinkie took a deep breath and held it for as long as she could. She exhaled as evenly as possible, blinking back a tear.
"Okay," Pinkie sighed, "there has to be some sort of explanation for this, right?" Pinkie furrowed her brow. "What would Twilight do in this situation? She'd know what to do..."
Pinkie thought for a moment. "She'd probably use some magic... or write a letter to Celestia," Pinkie chuckled to herself.
Pinkie Pie felt hungry. She trotted to the market district and found a fruit stand. The food was arranged neatly, but there was no shopkeeper. She grabbed a bite to eat and left a couple bits on the stand counter for the owner to find later.
"Maybe there was some event today," Pinkie deduced. "I must have forgotten, silly me!"
When Pinkie reached the town centre, she didn't find anyone there. She went to Sweet Apple Acres, nopony there either. The train station was empty save for the steam engine parked at the platform. Twilight nor Spike were to be found at the library, and not even Opal was at Carousel Boutique. Throughout all of Ponyville, Pinkie couldn't find a soul.
"The entire town..." Pinkie Pie fell to her haunches. "What happened to everypony?"
There was only one reasonable explanation. Something horrible had happened while Pinkie slept!
"Why did I have to sleep in on today of all days? Maybe I could've seen what happened..."
Pinkie swallowed. The only reasonable explanation was that something from the Everfree Forest was responsible for this.
"There's only one pony- er, zebra, who can help me with this!" Pinkie exclaimed. She stood hesitantly, braced herself, then galloped off to the evil forest.
On the edge of the Everfree Forest sat Fluttershy's cottage. The typical ruckus of animals wasn't there. Pinkie eyed the empty house uneasily as she walked passed.
Pinkie stopped just short of the foreboding woods and stared off into the darkness. It was still early afternoon, but the Everfree Forest was unnaturally shrouded in shadow. With a breath, Pinkie walked into the forest.
Pinkie kept her breathing as quiet as possible, stepped lightly, and watched every angle around her. The loudest sound she made was that of her heart beating furiously in her chest. Pinkie's ears rang with silence; not even a leaf rustled in the forest. Each step brought her deeper into the darkness, but also closer to her destination.
When Zecora's hut appeared through the dense shadow, Pinkie felt a wave of relief. She had to hold herself back from galloping up to the home or from calling out to Zecora. She continued to sneak through the forest until she reached the hut.
"Zecora!' Pinkie breathed. Dead silence. She peered through the window of the hut. The house was small and it was apparent immediately that Zecora was not to be found.
Pinkie's mind was blank. Zecora might have been her only hope of understanding what happened to all the ponies in Ponyville, and now she was alone in the middle of the Everfree Forest. She stood silently, at a loss for what to do. She couldn't so much as wonder aloud, for fear of what might be listening.
She crept into the hut. It looked just as it did the last time Pinkie visited for Zecora's anniversary party. Zebras didn't keep track of birthdays like ponies did, so Pinkie decided to celebrate each year the day that Ponyville accepted Zecora as a friend.
Mounted on the wall was a picture Pinkie recognized as the first party Pinkie had ever thrown for Zecora. Pinkie's vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. She fell to the floor and wept. Her body was exhausted after hours of worry and running around town. After a while Pinkie drifted unconscious.
Pinkie used to think that friends were everything. How naive she once was. She had survived.
"No," Pinkie declared, "I have thrived."
She had journeyed across the whole of Equestria and lands beyond. She had years ago given up any notion that she might find another living soul. Every town, every house, everything laid empty.
Yet she still explored. It was something she was good at, destined for, in fact. Pinkie had never once heard of a pony's cutie mark changing, but she new for certain that every living creature simply being removed from the face of the land had never happened either.
She didn't notice it happen. It might have been changed for days before she finally noticed that the familiar mark on her flanks had changed completely. It was no longer three colorful balloons, representing her proclivity towards partying and spreading joy. Now it was a blue hoofprint, the cutie mark of a traveler.
Pinkie gazed across the land. She stood perched at the summit of the Canterlot mountain. She could see the towering Crystal Castle to the north, the expansive San Palomino Desert to the south, and the Grand Sea to the east and west. She had explored it all.
Pinkie shrugged the thick coat off of her back, and removed her saddle bags. The frigid temperature of the air bit into her skin.
"Only one more place to explore."
After years of ignoring her loneliness, Pinkie felt a sting of sorrow. She swallowed hard and leaped from the top of the mountain.
"I hope my friends are there."