The Monster Inside
Author's Note: So this is my first written piece of work in a long time, so bear with me. I fell in love with what people have made the dark side of Pinkie Pie out to be. This is inspired by Cupcakes and a little blog on Tumblr called AskPinkamena Diane Pie. I finished the first "chapter" and decided to a test run of how people respond to it. So sit back enjoy the ride and read and review. Don't worry, I'll tell Pinkamena not to put your number in…
It was bed time, but Scootaloo wasn't quite tired yet. She opened one eye and looked across at her friend. Her downfall and her saving grace all in one. Pinkie Pie could have killed her, should have killed her. Scootaloo's number came up, and there was rarely if any exceptions to the rules. But for some reason Pinkie Pie, now Pinkamena, offered her a proposition. Help Pinkamena with her "work" and she wouldn't kill the young filly and her number would never be put back in for any reason.
Scootaloo still didn't quite completely understand this Pinkamena yet. But if you looked past the sociopath she was the greatest friend one could ever have. Pinkamena knew the ways of this world, she knew how to survive when you had a monster inside. She was a role model for Scootaloo, a way out of a bleak existence. Only Pinkamena could answer her questions, only she could provide acceptance, only she could provide hope of a happy life. And they were happy, in this bleak world they had an incomparable bond.
Life had spit on Pinkie Pie and Scootaloo. If they followed their urges the world would hate them, if they buried their terrible desires they were haunted endlessly by voices, anger, black-outs and then as Pinkie Pie found, the desires were inevitably uncontrollable. Pinkie Pie had satiated the monster inside and the world hated her, as they would Scootaloo, but it didn't matter anymore, she had a friend.
Scootaloo broke out of her reverie, a single tear had slipped by unnoticed and stained the pillow beneath her face. Once again the young filly looked at Pinkamena. She hesitated then spoke up. "Pinkamena, are you still awake?"
What was once Pinkie Pie opened her eyes and shifted so she was facing Scootaloo. This wasn't the same pony physically either. Her hair was as straight as a ruler. Her eyes were the same bright blue as before but there was something off about them. Something untouchable, unfathomable, a constant shadow that you don't see so much as feel. "Yes, Scootaloo I'm awake." Pinkamena's voice was vastly different as well. The high pitch squeal of Pinkie Pie was gone. It was now an octave lower, slower, sadder. She fixed Scootaloo with an endearing gaze. "What is it squirt?"
Scootaloo smiled and her wings flared a little beneath the blankets. "Do you ever feel bad…for, for what you've done?" The young filly asked slowly, looking up to meet Pinkamena's gaze.
The older pony sighed and turned on her back, she looked down at her hooves and smiled sadly. "Do I feel bad for all the things I've done?" she asked softly, as if asking herself. "I used to… but now? No, I feel no remorse. I'm too far gone, I can't turn back. What use would there be for guilt, regret, sympathy?" Pinkamena asked, with the last sentence becoming a bitter snarl. "None at all let me tell you squirt." Pinkamena suddenly cheery, roughled the top of Scootaloo's mane.
Something changed in Pinkamena then and she smiled in a peculiar way. Scootaloo repressed a shiver.
"Those kinds of feelings would get in the way of my…work. They would drive me mad." A giggle escaped the older pony. "I think of it this way, Scoot, the blood is spilt, the tendons are snapped, the bones are crushed and the cupcakes are eaten. (Tasty, yes?)"
That was something Scootaloo had never even considered before she came to live with Pinkamena. Equine flesh was very tasty, especially in cupcakes. Add Pinkamena's special touch and they were to die for.
"Point is there is nothing that can bring any pony back. See those kinds of feelings would be utterly useless!" Began Pinkamena again, looking at her hooves all the while; a scowl crept across her face. "I would shut down, I wouldn't be able to continue my work…" A shadow flitted across her face and she grinned once more.
"And I don't want to stop," whispered Pinkamena. She reached over and tipped up Scootaloo's chin with her hoof, again fixing her with a tender gaze. Scootaloo was trapped in those eyes. "Oh I wasn't always heartless. As I said before, I used to feel guilt…but it choked me, blanketed me, crushed me, until I hated myself and every waking moment was agony," the older pony explained, turning away and closing her eyes. She let her hoof fall from Scootaloo's face and positioned it back in her lap.
Tears slowly gathered in Scootaloo's eyes. She carried guilt, guilt due to her thoughts, her desires, her needs. She knew they wrong but they wouldn't go away. If she let her guard down the voices would come whispering, beckoning, pleading. It was often too much. She knew how Pinkie Pie felt and her friend knew how she felt. Pinkamena offered her a way to feed the monster and still felt like she belonged. Scootaloo wanted to hug her saviour, her friend but for some reason she was frozen. Two tears fell from her face.
"I couldn't stop, the monster inside me needed to be fed," continued Pinkamena, her voice breaking. She stared not at the wall, but through it. "The urge to kill, dissect, maim…Oh! The beauty of the body. The shuddering breaths. The gasps and screams of pain!" A gleeful bark of a laugh resounded from the thing next to Scootaloo. "The beauty of the ruby red blood. The crunch of bone! Ahem, well you get the picture. I'm past the point of no return. I couldn't stop feeding the monster inside me but well now-" Another bark of a laugh escaped. "It doesn't matter anymore, Scootaloo."
Once more Pinkamena fixed her eyes on the young filly and Scootaloo's breath caught in her throat. Pinkamena's pupils shrunk to the size of toothpicks and a shadow flared in her eyes and across her face, banishing any warmth left in her expression. A horrifying grin, ear to ear, slowly crept across her face. Scootaloo's face contorted in fear, she could do nothing but flatten herself against the bed, the tears shone in her eyes, catching the light in the room.
Pinkamena giggled, a horrible sound unlike anything a pony had ever made before. "It doesn't matter anymore, because well, because, now, I am the monster."