FANDOM


Pinkie gazed at the mirror, wearing her signature dress. She was precarious; something was wrong. For some odd reason, she hadn’t really felt this way before.

She wouldn’t call it guilt; each and every one of her victims deserved what they got in some way. But nonetheless, things had gotten quite the bit odd as of late; ponies were going in earlier, locking their doors, refusing to open up to anypony. It made it awfully hard to get the next number, the ingredients to her delicious and absolutely fabulous cupcakes. And it made a certain feeling of odd paranoia crawl over her neck like a spider on a rough surface.

She looked over to the dead, half-rotten and stuffed Rainbow Dash. It had been over two weeks, and she had preserved the remainder of the body. But she had found recently that Rainbow was boring this way; since she could no longer talk, walk, fly, or do her amazing stunts like she always used to do.

The stitches had held since she last redone them; and the body, thanks to the preservatives, was guaranteed to last for years after Pinkie herself died.

“Oh, Rainbow, perhaps I should have let you live, hmm? I just wanted to have a little fun, but you didn’t last long at all… Maybe I should’ve waited?”

“Or maybe you shouldn’t have done it at all.”

Pinkie jumped. She was psychotic enough that paranoia was a common sight to her, but this was different. That voice in her head, Rainbow’s voice, seemed all too realistic.

“You know, Pinkie, it’s not cool, killing me like that. Too bad you can’t feel guilt. Wait a minute… Let me get myself comfortable…”

“Get out of my head!” Pinkie yelled, falling back and ramming the table she strapped everypony to.

“Calm down. Hey, you’ve read three hundred twelve and a half books in here! And the half is the latest Daring Do novel! How does it end? Now I’ll never know…”

“Rainbow, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be…?”

“Dead? Well, why else would I be here? You would think you would like this, having your best friend talk to you again… then again, I don’t really consider you a friend anymore.”

Pinkie stood back up. The table ramming had caused a few issues, but she was fine. She removed the dress, her hair poofing up into place.

She opened up the basement door, stepping out into the main area of Sugarcube Corner.

“Ahh… I remember getting so many amazing cupcakes from here. Now all’s that is left to wonder is how many of them were made out of pony… Cannibalism isn’t really my thing, Pinkie Pie.”

The mental curses in Pinkie’s head currently going off were things she would never usually say. It was literally like Rainbow was inside of her head, that this wasn’t paranoia or psychosis talking. She had made many brilliant friends within her hallucinatory mind, but this Dashie seemed a little too hostile already…

“Hostile? All I’ve said is that I don’t consider you a friend! Who would, after you murder them and stuff them after thinking of baking them into cupcakes?!”

“I didn’t murder you! Your number came up!”

“Oh, and what did I do to have my number in there, then? Absolutely nothing! I didn’t pull a prank on you, didn’t go all Flutterbitch on you because I went to seminar ran by a Minotaur, didn’t try to rob you of time with… well, me!”

Pinkie tried to ignore the dead mare’s voice as she stuck a tray of cupcake batter into the oven. She promptly went out, skipping along to her usual happy tune (with surprising quiet from Rainbow Dash,) and opened the mailbox, pulling out a single letter…

The envelope read:

Miss Pinkamena Diane Pie 2102 Sugarcube Corner Ponyville, Equestria

From Durectron Excavation and Science Industries 9024 Canterlot Lane (Headquarters) Canterlot, Equestria

Odd. No zip code. And she was receiving a letter from a science and excavation company, but not just anyone: The biggest one in Equestria.

“Heh, I’d read that. Durectron doesn’t exactly send out spam mail. Maybe they’re inviting you to go on a dig?”

She took it into her bedroom in Sugarcube Corner, and opened it with an odd look on her face. Her usually completely joyous mood was a little watered down, lest she would’ve exclaimed something or defied gravity.

She unfolded the letter, and found it to be from her grandfather…

Dear Pinkie Pie,

If you are reading this, I am already dead…

“Well isn’t that a nice welcome?” Rainbow Dash interrupted the reading. Pinkie ignored and kept on.

… You’re probably thinking I already was dead, but this was a lie, made up to keep secrets meant to protect you. Durectron has been running operations for years in secret, cutting its employees off from their families. Everypony here was a mindless slave… well, in a way, they still are.

“Hmm… Ooooh, something bad must’ve happened….”

You must …. (For a reason unknown to Pinkie, the text was slightly illegible.) … the Northern Sector, 50 clicks north northeast of the Crystal Empire… with haste.

The remainder of the letter was completely illegible. She couldn’t read it much, but she knew one thing… Durectron was a very profitable company. The biggest in Equestria, Durectron’s profits probably outran Cloudsdale Weather’s by at least two hundred million bits. If something happened, and she had a place, it could be some place to get some new… tools for her ingredients, as every big company held secrets. Not to mention, she was curious as to what happened to her grandfather.

“Ah, so planning a road trip? I can fly us… oh wait, no I can’t. Because I’m just your mental image, according to you… Celestia Dammit Pinkie, read that novel!”

Pinkie ignored the mare’s voice. It was just an image in her mind, wasn’t it?

She packed some supplies, and booked a ticket to the Crystal Empire, saying good-bye to “friends” along the way…

Vengeance Episode Two.



Written by Princess Callie.
Content Available under the CC-BY-NC-SA license.

Ad blocker interference detected!


Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers

Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.