Chapter One: Pinkie Pie.

It had all started at a young age. Her parent's throats sliced open, her dog run over, her friend shot. All she had witnessed. And all were bloody. Very bloody.

Maybe that's what made her tick. Just maybe. Just maybe. Just maybe.

Or maybe not. But then again, it made sense. All of it made sense to her. So, why not any others? Or maybe they did understand, but they just weren't telling her... then again, they were gagged... most of the time. Other times, they were so scared, they couldn't speak.

Either way, it always worked out for her.

Pacing in front of the family's mirror, Pinkie glanced at herself. Blood splattered her face, clothes, hair, shoes, and limbs. To others, she looked horrifying. To her, she looked normal. Normal day, normal play, normal way. Or, she told herself, anyway.

The kitchen knife glimmered dangerously in her right hand, and it itself was covered in the delicious, crimson liquid. Raising her left hand, she stuck two fingers in her mouth, sucking off the salty-sweetness. Like she said, delicious. No, she wasn't a vampire. She just happened to like blood.

A lot.

One of the family members made a small sound, and her icy blue eyes turned towards the mother. The father lay motionless at her feet, insides turned into outsides, throat just about torn out, smile carved into his face, and hacked up in more places than one. Pity for her. Not really.

Turning, towards the woman, she slowly walked over. The mother was tied back-to-back with her twelve-year-old daughter, and both had a cloth tightly fastened around their mouths to keep them quiet. The woman's golden eyes widened, and she began to shake, making short, fearful sounds. The daughter only began to cry.

Kneeling down in front of the mother, being careful to avoid the now-dead father, Pinkie reached her left hand out and softly rubbed the woman's naturally blonde hair between her fingers. The woman jerked her head away, beginning to shake harder.

"There's no use fighting me. I've already won." She whispered, pulling back. Standing up, she ran her bloody fingers through her straight, pink hair. She hummed quietly as she looked up at the ceiling, deciding what to do next. Well, to be more specific, who to kill next.

"You or the girl... You or the girl... I wonder whom I shall carve up next." She thought out loud. Looking back down at the mother, she gazed over the woman's brown Ups uniform. "You work in the mail department."

Her icy blue eyes slid over to the girl. She was wearing a white T-shirt that stated 'Mommy's little Muffin~'. With a pair of jeans.

"I've decided." Pinkie's mouth twitched upward. "You."

The mother gave a sob, and the daughter cried even harder. Pinkie could remember crying like that. She doesn't anymore, though. Seeing too much has its privileges.

Walking over and kneeling in front of the girl, she slowly raised the daughter's chin with the point of the knife. The girl's golden eyes shined brightly with tears, and she could feel the daughter shivering.

A thin line of crimson trailed down the girl's neck, and Pinkie smiled. "Enjoy the last three minutes of life you have. I may snatched it away before even that."

The girl made a small sound in the back of her throat, and she closed her eyes. Her hair was darker than her mother's. More of a dirty blonde than an actual blonde.

Shoving the knife outward, it plunged into the girl's throat, immediately throwing a few drops of blood onto Pinkie's face. The girl's eyes snapped open, wide with fear of course, as blood gushed down her body. She made a gurgled sound as she choked on her own blood. The white T-shirt was painted red, and Pinkie ripped the knife out. It may not have been very pretty for someone else, but for her, it was beautiful.

Little drops of rubies covered her gracefully, and she stabbed into the girl's chest. She dragged the knife downward, having much practice. It took a bit of strength, but it sliced its way through the breastbone and rips. And, of course, the girl's stomach. That was the easiest part. A crimson river followed in pursuit.

The girl's body gave a little spasm, and then sat still. Her golden eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling as her head rolled back. Back onto her mother's shoulder.

"Goodbye little one." She stated. Running two finger down the girl's bloody neck, she stuck them in her mouth for the second time. Not as salty as the father, a little sweeter.

Standing up, she slowly let her gaze make its way over to the mother. "Guess who's next."

The woman's shoulders heaved heavily. But Pinkie knew she wasn't crying for her own life. Okay, maybe a little.

The woman's eyes were squeezed shut, as if praying. Praying as hard as she could. As if any hope what-so-ever could get her out of this mess.

Walking over so she was in front of the woman for the second time, she knelt in front of her as well. "My Friend, Spike, was murdered in front of my own eyes. The killer held a gun to his chest and shot him three times. But, before she did, she kissed him. As if to say sorry. As if to give him one last pleasure before death."

The woman opened her eyes, as Pinkie placed her hands on the mother's head, making her look at her. She continued. "You were saved for last, so I owe you this."

Leaning forward, Pinkie gently kissed the woman, smearing some blood on the mother's lips. It was kind of awkward with the cloth tied around the woman's mouth, but it didn't matter.

Pulling back she smiled. "The last are always the quickest to die, so don't worry."

With that, she quickly snapped the woman's neck. She ran her knife across it for good measure afterwords. Dead.

Satisfied, she stood, dropping the knife. Walking towards the door slowly, she hummed, "Normal day, Normal play, Normal way."

I Hoped you like it! Please review! I know it was kind of short, and, uh, bloody. But, I hope to make more chapters, and all that I ask of you is to press the review button! Anyway, I love all of you! (Anyone care for a hoof bump?) /)

~Vampire Angel