A bit bored, figured I'd share some rather interesting stories. The main topic will obviously be My Little Pony buuuut it won't necessarily follow the show's topic of butterflies with sunshine and cupcakes all over the place.
I personally enjoy the stories, most won't so I'll leave you with a warning that they are indeed graphic.
Cupcakes
Sweet Apple Massacre
My Little Dashie ((This one is full of 'dem feels, nothing gorey here))
I personally enjoy the stories, most won't so I'll leave you with a warning that they are indeed graphic.
Cupcakes
Cupcakes
By Sergeant Sprinkles: World's Greatest Party Clown
Edited by Edinpony
WARNING: This fanfiction is incredibly gory, and may ruin your appreciation of a certain My Little Pony character as well as the titular baked goods. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
The air was warm, the sun was shining, and everypony in Ponyville was having a glorious day. The town square was bustling and crowded and busy ponies filled the streets. All the pony folk seemed to have somewhere specific to be. All except Rainbow Dash; her place was in the sky. She tore freely through the air, speeding one way and the next, buzzing the tree tops and racing the wind. The blue pegasus swooped over a schoolyard, much to the delight of the children, then climbed several hundred feet and dove, streaking downward as fast as she could. Seconds before hitting the ground, her wings flew open and she pulled up back into the clear blue. Rainbow felt alive.
Suddenly, Dash remembered that she had somewhere to be; she was supposed to meet with Pinkie Pie in five minutes. Dash had gotten so caught up in her exercises that she’d nearly forgotten that Pinkie had asked to meet her at Sugercube Corner at three. Pinkie hadn’t said why or what they’d be doing, but Dash knew that with Pinkie, it could be anything. Dash wasn’t sure if she really wanted to go, though. She was so engaged with her stunts that she thought about blowing Pinkie off to continue flying. But, Dash’s conscience got the better of her. She knew that it would hurt Pinkie’s feelings; after all, Pinkie had said it was going to be something special just for the two of them. Dash considered it and thought “why not?” What did she have to lose? Heck, it might be more pranking. Pinkie might have found a bunch more fun stuff to pull on folks, and they’d had so much fun the last time. Dash kicked into overdrive to make up for lost time, and sped to her appointment.
When Dash walked into the store, she was immediately greeted by her host, who was bouncing in excitement. “Yay, you’re here! I’ve been waiting aaall day,” said the jumping pony.
“Sorry if I’m a little late, Pinkie. I was doing my afternoon exercises and lost track of time,” Dash apologized.
Pinkie giggled and responded in a gleefully reassuring tone, “Oh that’s ok, you’re here now. What‘s a few more minutes? I’ve been sooo excited thinking about all fun stuff we’re gonna do, I haven’t stopped bouncing since I woke up. I mean, I almost forgot to breathe I’ve been so happy.”
Dash gave a slightly uncomfortable laugh. She had always appreciated Pinkie Pie’s friendly, outgoing way of life, but Pinkie’s overabundant enthusiasm almost creeped her out. Dash maintained a polite expression, however. If Pinkie was this worked up, whatever she had planned must be good.
“So, you ready to get started, Rainbow Dash? I’ve got everything all ready,” the pink pony said.
Dash psyched herself up. “You betcha, Pinkie. So what do ya got planed? We gonna prank somebody? I got a couple of good ones I’ve been thinking about. Or maybe you’ve got some stunts you think I should try? Or perhaps…”
“MAKING CUPCAKES!” Pinkie happily announced.
“Baking?” Dash was disappointed. “Pinkie, you know I’m not good at baking. Remember last time?”
“Oh that’s not a problem at all. I only need your help making them. I’ll be doing most of the work,” Pinkie explained.
Dash thought for about it for a second. “Well, alright, I guess that’s ok. What exactly do you need me to do?”
“That’s the spirit. Here you go.” Pinkie handed Dash a cupcake.
Dash was puzzled “I thought I was helping you bake.”
“You will be. I made this one just for you before you got here.
“So, is this like taste testing or something?”
“Sorta,” Pinkie said.
Dash shrugged and popped the pastry in her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed. Not bad.
“Ok, now what?” Dash asked.
“Now,” Pinkie informed her, “You take a nap.”
Puzzled, Dash opened her mouth but felt instantly lightheaded. A wave of dizziness washed over her, the world spun, and seconds later she collapsed to the floor.
When Dash regained consciousness, she found herself in a dark room. She tried to shake her head but found that a taut leather strap held it firmly in place. She struggled to move, but braces around her chest and limbs glued her to a rack formed from a series of sturdy planks, which spread her legs wide apart. Dash’s wings were the only part of her not tied down, and they fluttered frantically while she struggled to escape. As she writhed, Pinkie jumped suddenly into her line of sight.
“Goodie, you’re awake. Now we can get started,” Pinkie stated gleefully. She bounded into the darkness, and quickly reappeared pushing a small cart covered with a cloth.
“Pinkie, what’s going on? I can’t move!” Dash said urgently.
“Well duh, that’s because you’re tied down,” chided Pinkie. “That’s why you can’t move. I didn’t think you’d need to be told that.”
“But why? What’s happening? I thought you said I was going to help make cupcakes.”
“You are helping. You see, I ran out of the special ingredient and I need you to get more.”
“Special ingredient?” Dash was now breathing heavily and starting to panic. “What special ingredient?”
Pinkie giggled and responded “You, silly!”
Dash’s eyes widened, and her face contorted in fear. Then she started to laugh and said, in a voice bordering on hysteria, “Woo, you really got me there, Pinkie pie. I mean, tricking me in to thinking I’m gonna get made into a cupcake? I gotta tell you, this the best prank yet. You win, you’re the best.”
Pinkie only giggled even more. “Aw, thanks Dash. But I haven’t done any pranks today, so I can’t accept your praise.”
Dash was struggling again. “Pinkie, come on, this isn’t funny.”
“Then why were you laughing?” Before Dash could answer, Pinkie grabbed the cloth and whipped it off the cart. On the cart was a tray containing various sharp medical tools and knives, carefully organized and wickedly sharp, as well as a large medical bag.
Dash was now in full panic mode. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her mind raced as she tried to reason with the pink pony. “You can’t do this Pinkie! I’m your friend!”
“I know you are and that’s why I’m so happy that I’ve got you here. We get to share your last moments together, just you and me.” Pinkie was skipping again.
“But, the other ponies will wonder where I am. When the clouds pile up, they’ll come looking for me and then you’ll get found out,” Dash cried in desperation.
“Oh, Dash,” said Pinkie. “Don‘t worry, there are plenty of pegasus ponies to take care of a few clouds. And besides, no one will find out. I mean, how long do you think I’ve been doing this?” And with that ominous statement, the lights suddenly came to life and revealed the rest the room.
“Oh no.” Dash reeled in horror at the image presented to her. The room was decorated with a typical but twisted Pinkie Pie flair. Colorful streamers of dried entrails fluttered around on the ceiling, brightly painted skulls of all sizes were attached to the walls, and organs done up in pastels filled with helium were tied to the backs of chairs. The tables and chairs were made of bones and the preserved flesh of past ponies. Dash cringed upon seeing the center piece of the table nearest to her. The heads of four foals, their eyes closed as if they were sleeping, were wearing party hats made from their own skin. With a thrill of terror, Dash recognized one of them as Apple Bloom’s classmate Twist. Dash’s eyes darted back and forth and then fell upon a patchwork banner hanging from the rafters. Made from several tanned pony hides, the words “Life is a party” were scrawled on it in blood red.
Dash’s attention was brought back by a party horn unfurling and tickling her nose. She gaped at Pinkie Pie, who was standing right in front of her. The party pony was wearing a dress quilted from dried skin, emblazoned with cutie marks. On her back fluttered six pegasus wings, all of different colors. As the earth pony skipped in excitement, her necklace of severed unicorn horns clacked together loudly.
“Like it?” Pinkie asked. “I made it myself.”
Desperately, Dash pleaded with the smiling pony before her. “Pinkie please, I’m sorry if I did anything to you. I didn’t mean it. Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anybody.”
“Oh Dash, you didn’t do anything. It’s just that your number came up and, well, I don’t make rules. We can’t turn back now.”
Dash was tearing up. How could this be happening?
“Aww, don’t be sad Dash,” said Pinkie. “Look, this’ll cheer you up. I brought you a friend.”
Seemingly out of nowhere, Pinkie produced a brightly painted blue and yellow skull. It was about pony sized, but it had a very defining feature: a beak.
Dash gaped in shock. “Is…is that….is…that?”
“Hey, Dash lets hang together. These ponies are lame-os. Dweebs dweebs dweebs,” Pinkie mimicked. “I caught her right before she left town. Remember when I left the party for about twenty minutes? That wasn’t enough time to play with her of course; I had to wait till after the party to do that. But boy am I glad I did. It was worth it for the flavor alone. Griffons taste like two animals at once, it’s amazing. I know she didn’t have a number like everyone else in Ponyville, but when was I gonna get another chance to try griffon? I probably should have asked where she came from so I could have gotten more, but I forgot. I’ll tell you what though, she was quite the fighter. She lasted a long time, which was a lot of fun for me. I got the chance to play with somebody other than a pony and try new things. It’s too bad she had such a meanie mouth. She said so much bad stuff I just had to take her tongue out. You know, bad language makes for bad feelings, Rainbow Dash.”
Dash didn’t have anything to say. She just sobbed and writhed in her tight bonds.
“Well” said Pinkie with an air of finality, “that’s enough reminiscing. It’s time to begin.”
Putting down Gilda’s skull, the pink pony gripped a scalpel in the cleft of her hoof and walked over to Dash’s right flank. Without any flair, Pinkie placed the blade an inch above Dash’s cutie mark and began a circular cut around it. Dash shouted in pain and tried desperately to pull away, but the braces held her still. Finishing the incision, Pinkie grabbed a curved skinning knife from the tray. Screwing up her face in concentration, she worked it under Dash’s skin and sliced the hide away from the muscle. Dash ground her teeth as she tearfully watched her flesh peel off. Pinkie then moved to the other side and repeated the process on Dash’s left flank. Once she had finished, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms. Dash just whimpered. Her thighs burned like nothing she had felt before.
Placing the ragged patches of skin down, Pinkie selected a large butcher knife and walked behind the blue pegasus. “Hope you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna wing it now,” Pinkie laughed. She grabbed Dash’s left wing in her mouth and played with it for a few seconds, yanking it back so the sharp pain reignited the fire in Dash’s flanks. Then, stretching the wing out, Pinkie brought the blade down hard at the base. Instantly, Dash screamed and thrashed her appendage. The movement threw off Pinkie’s aim. She tried to hit the mark again but missed, and carved a huge slice into Dash’s back.
“Dash, you gotta stay still or I’ll keep missing,” scolded Pinkie as her friend howled.
Pinkie took another whack and hit her target. She swung again and again. Blood sprayed into the air, but Pinkie realized she wasn’t getting anywhere. The blade just wasn’t going through the bone.
“Hmm, I guess I forgot to sharpen it. I’ll try something else,” stated Pinkie matter-of-factly as she tossed the knife over her shoulder, embedding the blade in the table. Through the haze of pain and tears, Dash heard the sound of a metal box opening and closing.
“Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn’t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw. I don’t get it.”
Pinkie placed the tool over the mangled flesh of the last attempt. Standing on her hind legs, she worked the saw back and forth with her front hooves. It sliced effortlessly through the bone and skin. The feeling of the jagged teeth grinding into her made Dash want to vomit. She watched numbly as her wing flew over her head and landed with a fluff on the table. Pinkie moved to the next wing and started sawing. Dash didn’t struggle this time; she’d given up trying to fight and focused on choking back screams of agony. Abruptly, the sawing paused. Pinkie was only half way done, the wing hanging off by a sliver.
“Hey Dash,” Pinkie piped up. “Think fast!”
Suddenly, Pinkie yanked the wing as hard as she could. The bone snapped but the blue pony’s skin held, then tore away. The pull ripped away a long strip of flesh all the way down Dash’s back to her rump. Her body seized at the unexpected trauma. As her pelvis tensed up, Dash felt a warm release between her legs, and her loud, unending melody of pain filled the room. Unable to catch her breath, she blacked out.
Dash awoke with a gasp. The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils. As her vision swam into focus, she saw a very pouty Pinkie Pie removing a large adrenaline needle from her chest. Stomping her hooves, the frustrated Pinkie lashed out at her helpless victim.
“Didn’t anybody teach you any manners? It’s very rude to fall asleep when somebody invites you over to spend time with them. How would you like it if I came over to your house and went to sleep? ‘Oh I’m sorry Dash, you’re so boring I think I’ll take a nap.’ You think I like always doing this by myself? I told you how excited I got when I found you were next. I was excited to have a friend be here with me while I worked. But NOOOOO! You’ve got to be inconsiderate. You know, I thought you were tough. I thought you could handle anything. I’ve had foals stand up better than you! Do I have to baby you? Huh? Is that how you want me to remember you, as a baby?”
As Pinkie stopped to catch her breath, Dash blinked and sobbed softly. Her back was in agony, her sides were on fire, and there was an intense pain in one of her legs. As she blinked again, she saw Pinkie pop something red into her mouth and began to chew. Noticing Dash’s stare, Pinkie quickly gulped the morsel down.
“What?” Pinkie asked. “Oh, this?” She held up another piece. “Well, while YOU were asleep, I got a little impatient and helped myself to a small sample. I got it from your leg; you’re not bad. Wanna try some?”
Without waiting for a response, Pinkie shoved the strip of meat into the revolted pegasus pony’s mouth. Dash gagged, and immediately spit it out. Pinkie frowned, and picked up the chunk of flesh. “If you didn’t want it, you could have said no.” She contemplated the discarded snotty morsel, then gulped it up. “It’s not like you haven’t had my cupcakes before.”
Swallowing, Pinkie turned her attention to a small can on the tray. She removed the lid, revealing that it was filled with red-hot coals. Lying on top of the coals were several large nails. As the adrenalin filled her veins, Dash began to panic again. Picking up the can, Pinkie walked over to Dash’s left. Holding some tongs with her mouth, Pinkie carefully picked up a nail and positioned it at the seam between her victim’s front left leg and hoof. She then grabbed a hammer and took careful aim.
“No Pinkie!” Dash screamed. “NO! NO!”
The hammer came down and the nail punctured Dash’s skin. The white hot burning was too much. Dash screamed as she pulled and thrashed at the braces, causing her raw skin to rub and tear. Pinkie tried to line up another nail, but couldn’t find her aim, and let out a frustrated grunt. When Pinkie brought the hammer back to take a wild swing, Dash burst out crying and begging.
“PLEASE STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!”
Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting down the hammer and tongs, she walked back in front of her friend and stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn’t even cry this much when she had a live parasprite stuffed down her throat. Pinkie thought for a minute about what to do next, then had a sudden spark of inspiration.
Rotating a wheel on the rack, Pinkie laid Dash on her back, then moved to Dash’s hind legs, bringing the can with her. Picking up her tools, Pinkie drove a searing hot spike of metal directly into the bottom of Dash’s hoof. As Dash yelled in pain, Pinkie moved around and drove a second nail into the other hoof. Next, Pinkie went back to her cart and located an enormous battery and controller, which she dragged over to where she was working. She tied copper wires between the terminals and the nails driven into Dash’s hooves, then gave Dash a wink and flipped the switch.
Electricity rocketed through Dash’s body. The blue pony reacted immediately; her body seized, and her muscles snapped taut. Dash’s hips thrust skyward, her eyes rolled back, and she let out a deep, throat shredding cry. Pinkie giggled and danced in place, then reached down and turned up the juice. Dash convulsed uncontrollably, and her bladder emptied once more.
After about five minutes, Pinkie shut off the power. Wisps of steam rose from the singed fur around Dash’s hooves, and the area reeked of cooked flesh and burnt enamel. Pinkie rotated Dash upright again and tried snap the drooling, delirious pony back to attention.
“Dash? Dash! Rainbow Dash, wake up!” Dash moaned and managed to give a modicum of weak acknowledgment. Pinkie studied her handiwork, then reached into the medicine bag and produced a large syringe. “Alright, time for the last round.”
Dash focused blearily on the needle, which Pinkie took as a question as to what it was.
“This is a little something to take the pain away,” Pinkie informed Dash as she walked around to her victim’s ruined back. Dash flinched as Pinkie jabbed the needle into the lower part of the blue pony’s spine. Moving in front of her friend again, Pinkie leaned down and elaborated.
“In a few minutes, you won’t be able to feel anything below your ribcage. Then you’ll be able to stay awake to watch the harvest.”
Dash started to cry again. “Pinkie?” she choked out.
“Yeah?”
“I want to go home,” Dash sobbed.
“Yeah, I can see wanting to do that,” replied the party pony. “Sometimes, I just wanna give up, just say ‘I’m done with this mess’ and go to bed. But you know what? You can’t shrug off your responsibilities. You got to pull yourself up and meet the challenges head on. That’s the only way you’re gonna get ahead in life.”
Dash hung her head and cried.
Minutes passed as the drug took effect. Eventually, Dash was completely numb from her chest to her flanks. At this point, Pinkie approached with a scalpel. Glancing at Dash and smiling, Pinkie made a long horizontal cut across the pegasus pony’s pelvis, just above her crotch. Moving up Dash’s body, Pinkie made a similar incision under her ribs. Finally, Pinkie made a long vertical cut down Dash’s stomach, connecting the first two.
“Looks like I got my ‘I’ on you, Dash,” Pinkie giggled.
With a moist, gooey sound, the flaps of skin opened. The sight of her own organs and the lack of feeling caused Dash’s breathing to intensify. Pinkie carefully sliced open Dash’s abdominal sac and grabbed her large intestines. As she separated the organ from the rest of the digestive tract and pulled it out of the new cavity, Pinkie grew jovial. Laughing as she gutted her friend, Pinkie began to make jokes. Dash, growing weaker from this new source of blood loss, tried desperately to shut out the macabre comedy act.
“Look at me, I’m Rarity!” Pinkie laughed, slinging the intestinal tube around her neck and spraying blood in all directions. “Isn’t my new scarf soooo pretty?”
Reaching back inside, she sliced the smaller intestine off from the bowls. Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed the slimy organ through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. “Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.”
Dash was barely aware of what was going on anymore. The shock was causing her to fade. Disappointed, Pinkie dived back into the blue pony’s guts, ramping up her routine.
“Aw, don’t go yet Dash.” Pinkie started pulling out the rest of Dash’s organs, pausing with each removal. “I know I can be a real pancreas, but you know I’m just kidney with you. You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.”
Pinkie placed the discarded body parts into a bucket, keeping the last one for bit longer. “Ooo, bagpipes.” she said, placing the end of Dash’s esophagus in her mouth and the stomach in her armpit. She squeezed, and a spurt of acid hit her tongue. “Eww! Oh hey look, there’s your cupcake, Dash!”
Dash didn’t hear her tormentor. She had slipped from conciseness minutes ago. Pinkie, not yet satisfied, hit Dash with another adrenaline shot. Dash woke up for the last time, her heart pounding. Warm blood flowed out from the wound in her chest in great spurts. It wouldn’t be long now.
Pinkie brought Dash around onto her back again and straddled the blue pony’s chest, scalpel at the ready.
“Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I’m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer. I really wanted to spend more time with you before we got here. But I guess it’s my fault; I should have taken it a little slower. Oh well. It was really was nice knowing you, Dash!”
The blade sunk into the blue throat and worked its way up to Dash’s chin. Coming back down, Pinkie’s scalpel then circled Dash’s neck. The last thing Rainbow Dash felt was her skin being cut away from her skull, and the metal of the blade scraping her teeth.
Then she was gone.
Pinkie Pie stared into the mirror. She had done a really good job, even keeping the eyelids. She winked, and Dash winked back. Pinkie smiled.
But still, she was sad that her friend was now gone. Dash had only lasted fifty minutes, not nearly as long as Pinkie had wanted. She looked back at the cadaver hanging in the center of the room, the last of her friend’s fluids draining into a pan. Yup, no more Rainbow Dash.
As she looked, Pinkie cocked her head. She began to take notice of the fact that there really wasn’t much damage to the corpse. “It fact,” the pink pony mused, “I think….” An idea exploded in her head. She was good at sewing and she had all the pieces, all she had to do was put them back together. Yeah, she just had to get some stuffing and bingo, she’d have Rainbow Dash forever. In fact, thought Pinkie, that’s what she’d do for all her best friends when their numbers came up. She was so excited, she skipped right over to the body with her skinner to get started. The cupcakes could wait; Pinkie Pie had a friend to make.
By Sergeant Sprinkles: World's Greatest Party Clown
Edited by Edinpony
WARNING: This fanfiction is incredibly gory, and may ruin your appreciation of a certain My Little Pony character as well as the titular baked goods. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
The air was warm, the sun was shining, and everypony in Ponyville was having a glorious day. The town square was bustling and crowded and busy ponies filled the streets. All the pony folk seemed to have somewhere specific to be. All except Rainbow Dash; her place was in the sky. She tore freely through the air, speeding one way and the next, buzzing the tree tops and racing the wind. The blue pegasus swooped over a schoolyard, much to the delight of the children, then climbed several hundred feet and dove, streaking downward as fast as she could. Seconds before hitting the ground, her wings flew open and she pulled up back into the clear blue. Rainbow felt alive.
Suddenly, Dash remembered that she had somewhere to be; she was supposed to meet with Pinkie Pie in five minutes. Dash had gotten so caught up in her exercises that she’d nearly forgotten that Pinkie had asked to meet her at Sugercube Corner at three. Pinkie hadn’t said why or what they’d be doing, but Dash knew that with Pinkie, it could be anything. Dash wasn’t sure if she really wanted to go, though. She was so engaged with her stunts that she thought about blowing Pinkie off to continue flying. But, Dash’s conscience got the better of her. She knew that it would hurt Pinkie’s feelings; after all, Pinkie had said it was going to be something special just for the two of them. Dash considered it and thought “why not?” What did she have to lose? Heck, it might be more pranking. Pinkie might have found a bunch more fun stuff to pull on folks, and they’d had so much fun the last time. Dash kicked into overdrive to make up for lost time, and sped to her appointment.
When Dash walked into the store, she was immediately greeted by her host, who was bouncing in excitement. “Yay, you’re here! I’ve been waiting aaall day,” said the jumping pony.
“Sorry if I’m a little late, Pinkie. I was doing my afternoon exercises and lost track of time,” Dash apologized.
Pinkie giggled and responded in a gleefully reassuring tone, “Oh that’s ok, you’re here now. What‘s a few more minutes? I’ve been sooo excited thinking about all fun stuff we’re gonna do, I haven’t stopped bouncing since I woke up. I mean, I almost forgot to breathe I’ve been so happy.”
Dash gave a slightly uncomfortable laugh. She had always appreciated Pinkie Pie’s friendly, outgoing way of life, but Pinkie’s overabundant enthusiasm almost creeped her out. Dash maintained a polite expression, however. If Pinkie was this worked up, whatever she had planned must be good.
“So, you ready to get started, Rainbow Dash? I’ve got everything all ready,” the pink pony said.
Dash psyched herself up. “You betcha, Pinkie. So what do ya got planed? We gonna prank somebody? I got a couple of good ones I’ve been thinking about. Or maybe you’ve got some stunts you think I should try? Or perhaps…”
“MAKING CUPCAKES!” Pinkie happily announced.
“Baking?” Dash was disappointed. “Pinkie, you know I’m not good at baking. Remember last time?”
“Oh that’s not a problem at all. I only need your help making them. I’ll be doing most of the work,” Pinkie explained.
Dash thought for about it for a second. “Well, alright, I guess that’s ok. What exactly do you need me to do?”
“That’s the spirit. Here you go.” Pinkie handed Dash a cupcake.
Dash was puzzled “I thought I was helping you bake.”
“You will be. I made this one just for you before you got here.
“So, is this like taste testing or something?”
“Sorta,” Pinkie said.
Dash shrugged and popped the pastry in her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed. Not bad.
“Ok, now what?” Dash asked.
“Now,” Pinkie informed her, “You take a nap.”
Puzzled, Dash opened her mouth but felt instantly lightheaded. A wave of dizziness washed over her, the world spun, and seconds later she collapsed to the floor.
When Dash regained consciousness, she found herself in a dark room. She tried to shake her head but found that a taut leather strap held it firmly in place. She struggled to move, but braces around her chest and limbs glued her to a rack formed from a series of sturdy planks, which spread her legs wide apart. Dash’s wings were the only part of her not tied down, and they fluttered frantically while she struggled to escape. As she writhed, Pinkie jumped suddenly into her line of sight.
“Goodie, you’re awake. Now we can get started,” Pinkie stated gleefully. She bounded into the darkness, and quickly reappeared pushing a small cart covered with a cloth.
“Pinkie, what’s going on? I can’t move!” Dash said urgently.
“Well duh, that’s because you’re tied down,” chided Pinkie. “That’s why you can’t move. I didn’t think you’d need to be told that.”
“But why? What’s happening? I thought you said I was going to help make cupcakes.”
“You are helping. You see, I ran out of the special ingredient and I need you to get more.”
“Special ingredient?” Dash was now breathing heavily and starting to panic. “What special ingredient?”
Pinkie giggled and responded “You, silly!”
Dash’s eyes widened, and her face contorted in fear. Then she started to laugh and said, in a voice bordering on hysteria, “Woo, you really got me there, Pinkie pie. I mean, tricking me in to thinking I’m gonna get made into a cupcake? I gotta tell you, this the best prank yet. You win, you’re the best.”
Pinkie only giggled even more. “Aw, thanks Dash. But I haven’t done any pranks today, so I can’t accept your praise.”
Dash was struggling again. “Pinkie, come on, this isn’t funny.”
“Then why were you laughing?” Before Dash could answer, Pinkie grabbed the cloth and whipped it off the cart. On the cart was a tray containing various sharp medical tools and knives, carefully organized and wickedly sharp, as well as a large medical bag.
Dash was now in full panic mode. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her mind raced as she tried to reason with the pink pony. “You can’t do this Pinkie! I’m your friend!”
“I know you are and that’s why I’m so happy that I’ve got you here. We get to share your last moments together, just you and me.” Pinkie was skipping again.
“But, the other ponies will wonder where I am. When the clouds pile up, they’ll come looking for me and then you’ll get found out,” Dash cried in desperation.
“Oh, Dash,” said Pinkie. “Don‘t worry, there are plenty of pegasus ponies to take care of a few clouds. And besides, no one will find out. I mean, how long do you think I’ve been doing this?” And with that ominous statement, the lights suddenly came to life and revealed the rest the room.
“Oh no.” Dash reeled in horror at the image presented to her. The room was decorated with a typical but twisted Pinkie Pie flair. Colorful streamers of dried entrails fluttered around on the ceiling, brightly painted skulls of all sizes were attached to the walls, and organs done up in pastels filled with helium were tied to the backs of chairs. The tables and chairs were made of bones and the preserved flesh of past ponies. Dash cringed upon seeing the center piece of the table nearest to her. The heads of four foals, their eyes closed as if they were sleeping, were wearing party hats made from their own skin. With a thrill of terror, Dash recognized one of them as Apple Bloom’s classmate Twist. Dash’s eyes darted back and forth and then fell upon a patchwork banner hanging from the rafters. Made from several tanned pony hides, the words “Life is a party” were scrawled on it in blood red.
Dash’s attention was brought back by a party horn unfurling and tickling her nose. She gaped at Pinkie Pie, who was standing right in front of her. The party pony was wearing a dress quilted from dried skin, emblazoned with cutie marks. On her back fluttered six pegasus wings, all of different colors. As the earth pony skipped in excitement, her necklace of severed unicorn horns clacked together loudly.
“Like it?” Pinkie asked. “I made it myself.”
Desperately, Dash pleaded with the smiling pony before her. “Pinkie please, I’m sorry if I did anything to you. I didn’t mean it. Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anybody.”
“Oh Dash, you didn’t do anything. It’s just that your number came up and, well, I don’t make rules. We can’t turn back now.”
Dash was tearing up. How could this be happening?
“Aww, don’t be sad Dash,” said Pinkie. “Look, this’ll cheer you up. I brought you a friend.”
Seemingly out of nowhere, Pinkie produced a brightly painted blue and yellow skull. It was about pony sized, but it had a very defining feature: a beak.
Dash gaped in shock. “Is…is that….is…that?”
“Hey, Dash lets hang together. These ponies are lame-os. Dweebs dweebs dweebs,” Pinkie mimicked. “I caught her right before she left town. Remember when I left the party for about twenty minutes? That wasn’t enough time to play with her of course; I had to wait till after the party to do that. But boy am I glad I did. It was worth it for the flavor alone. Griffons taste like two animals at once, it’s amazing. I know she didn’t have a number like everyone else in Ponyville, but when was I gonna get another chance to try griffon? I probably should have asked where she came from so I could have gotten more, but I forgot. I’ll tell you what though, she was quite the fighter. She lasted a long time, which was a lot of fun for me. I got the chance to play with somebody other than a pony and try new things. It’s too bad she had such a meanie mouth. She said so much bad stuff I just had to take her tongue out. You know, bad language makes for bad feelings, Rainbow Dash.”
Dash didn’t have anything to say. She just sobbed and writhed in her tight bonds.
“Well” said Pinkie with an air of finality, “that’s enough reminiscing. It’s time to begin.”
Putting down Gilda’s skull, the pink pony gripped a scalpel in the cleft of her hoof and walked over to Dash’s right flank. Without any flair, Pinkie placed the blade an inch above Dash’s cutie mark and began a circular cut around it. Dash shouted in pain and tried desperately to pull away, but the braces held her still. Finishing the incision, Pinkie grabbed a curved skinning knife from the tray. Screwing up her face in concentration, she worked it under Dash’s skin and sliced the hide away from the muscle. Dash ground her teeth as she tearfully watched her flesh peel off. Pinkie then moved to the other side and repeated the process on Dash’s left flank. Once she had finished, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms. Dash just whimpered. Her thighs burned like nothing she had felt before.
Placing the ragged patches of skin down, Pinkie selected a large butcher knife and walked behind the blue pegasus. “Hope you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna wing it now,” Pinkie laughed. She grabbed Dash’s left wing in her mouth and played with it for a few seconds, yanking it back so the sharp pain reignited the fire in Dash’s flanks. Then, stretching the wing out, Pinkie brought the blade down hard at the base. Instantly, Dash screamed and thrashed her appendage. The movement threw off Pinkie’s aim. She tried to hit the mark again but missed, and carved a huge slice into Dash’s back.
“Dash, you gotta stay still or I’ll keep missing,” scolded Pinkie as her friend howled.
Pinkie took another whack and hit her target. She swung again and again. Blood sprayed into the air, but Pinkie realized she wasn’t getting anywhere. The blade just wasn’t going through the bone.
“Hmm, I guess I forgot to sharpen it. I’ll try something else,” stated Pinkie matter-of-factly as she tossed the knife over her shoulder, embedding the blade in the table. Through the haze of pain and tears, Dash heard the sound of a metal box opening and closing.
“Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn’t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw. I don’t get it.”
Pinkie placed the tool over the mangled flesh of the last attempt. Standing on her hind legs, she worked the saw back and forth with her front hooves. It sliced effortlessly through the bone and skin. The feeling of the jagged teeth grinding into her made Dash want to vomit. She watched numbly as her wing flew over her head and landed with a fluff on the table. Pinkie moved to the next wing and started sawing. Dash didn’t struggle this time; she’d given up trying to fight and focused on choking back screams of agony. Abruptly, the sawing paused. Pinkie was only half way done, the wing hanging off by a sliver.
“Hey Dash,” Pinkie piped up. “Think fast!”
Suddenly, Pinkie yanked the wing as hard as she could. The bone snapped but the blue pony’s skin held, then tore away. The pull ripped away a long strip of flesh all the way down Dash’s back to her rump. Her body seized at the unexpected trauma. As her pelvis tensed up, Dash felt a warm release between her legs, and her loud, unending melody of pain filled the room. Unable to catch her breath, she blacked out.
Dash awoke with a gasp. The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils. As her vision swam into focus, she saw a very pouty Pinkie Pie removing a large adrenaline needle from her chest. Stomping her hooves, the frustrated Pinkie lashed out at her helpless victim.
“Didn’t anybody teach you any manners? It’s very rude to fall asleep when somebody invites you over to spend time with them. How would you like it if I came over to your house and went to sleep? ‘Oh I’m sorry Dash, you’re so boring I think I’ll take a nap.’ You think I like always doing this by myself? I told you how excited I got when I found you were next. I was excited to have a friend be here with me while I worked. But NOOOOO! You’ve got to be inconsiderate. You know, I thought you were tough. I thought you could handle anything. I’ve had foals stand up better than you! Do I have to baby you? Huh? Is that how you want me to remember you, as a baby?”
As Pinkie stopped to catch her breath, Dash blinked and sobbed softly. Her back was in agony, her sides were on fire, and there was an intense pain in one of her legs. As she blinked again, she saw Pinkie pop something red into her mouth and began to chew. Noticing Dash’s stare, Pinkie quickly gulped the morsel down.
“What?” Pinkie asked. “Oh, this?” She held up another piece. “Well, while YOU were asleep, I got a little impatient and helped myself to a small sample. I got it from your leg; you’re not bad. Wanna try some?”
Without waiting for a response, Pinkie shoved the strip of meat into the revolted pegasus pony’s mouth. Dash gagged, and immediately spit it out. Pinkie frowned, and picked up the chunk of flesh. “If you didn’t want it, you could have said no.” She contemplated the discarded snotty morsel, then gulped it up. “It’s not like you haven’t had my cupcakes before.”
Swallowing, Pinkie turned her attention to a small can on the tray. She removed the lid, revealing that it was filled with red-hot coals. Lying on top of the coals were several large nails. As the adrenalin filled her veins, Dash began to panic again. Picking up the can, Pinkie walked over to Dash’s left. Holding some tongs with her mouth, Pinkie carefully picked up a nail and positioned it at the seam between her victim’s front left leg and hoof. She then grabbed a hammer and took careful aim.
“No Pinkie!” Dash screamed. “NO! NO!”
The hammer came down and the nail punctured Dash’s skin. The white hot burning was too much. Dash screamed as she pulled and thrashed at the braces, causing her raw skin to rub and tear. Pinkie tried to line up another nail, but couldn’t find her aim, and let out a frustrated grunt. When Pinkie brought the hammer back to take a wild swing, Dash burst out crying and begging.
“PLEASE STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!”
Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting down the hammer and tongs, she walked back in front of her friend and stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn’t even cry this much when she had a live parasprite stuffed down her throat. Pinkie thought for a minute about what to do next, then had a sudden spark of inspiration.
Rotating a wheel on the rack, Pinkie laid Dash on her back, then moved to Dash’s hind legs, bringing the can with her. Picking up her tools, Pinkie drove a searing hot spike of metal directly into the bottom of Dash’s hoof. As Dash yelled in pain, Pinkie moved around and drove a second nail into the other hoof. Next, Pinkie went back to her cart and located an enormous battery and controller, which she dragged over to where she was working. She tied copper wires between the terminals and the nails driven into Dash’s hooves, then gave Dash a wink and flipped the switch.
Electricity rocketed through Dash’s body. The blue pony reacted immediately; her body seized, and her muscles snapped taut. Dash’s hips thrust skyward, her eyes rolled back, and she let out a deep, throat shredding cry. Pinkie giggled and danced in place, then reached down and turned up the juice. Dash convulsed uncontrollably, and her bladder emptied once more.
After about five minutes, Pinkie shut off the power. Wisps of steam rose from the singed fur around Dash’s hooves, and the area reeked of cooked flesh and burnt enamel. Pinkie rotated Dash upright again and tried snap the drooling, delirious pony back to attention.
“Dash? Dash! Rainbow Dash, wake up!” Dash moaned and managed to give a modicum of weak acknowledgment. Pinkie studied her handiwork, then reached into the medicine bag and produced a large syringe. “Alright, time for the last round.”
Dash focused blearily on the needle, which Pinkie took as a question as to what it was.
“This is a little something to take the pain away,” Pinkie informed Dash as she walked around to her victim’s ruined back. Dash flinched as Pinkie jabbed the needle into the lower part of the blue pony’s spine. Moving in front of her friend again, Pinkie leaned down and elaborated.
“In a few minutes, you won’t be able to feel anything below your ribcage. Then you’ll be able to stay awake to watch the harvest.”
Dash started to cry again. “Pinkie?” she choked out.
“Yeah?”
“I want to go home,” Dash sobbed.
“Yeah, I can see wanting to do that,” replied the party pony. “Sometimes, I just wanna give up, just say ‘I’m done with this mess’ and go to bed. But you know what? You can’t shrug off your responsibilities. You got to pull yourself up and meet the challenges head on. That’s the only way you’re gonna get ahead in life.”
Dash hung her head and cried.
Minutes passed as the drug took effect. Eventually, Dash was completely numb from her chest to her flanks. At this point, Pinkie approached with a scalpel. Glancing at Dash and smiling, Pinkie made a long horizontal cut across the pegasus pony’s pelvis, just above her crotch. Moving up Dash’s body, Pinkie made a similar incision under her ribs. Finally, Pinkie made a long vertical cut down Dash’s stomach, connecting the first two.
“Looks like I got my ‘I’ on you, Dash,” Pinkie giggled.
With a moist, gooey sound, the flaps of skin opened. The sight of her own organs and the lack of feeling caused Dash’s breathing to intensify. Pinkie carefully sliced open Dash’s abdominal sac and grabbed her large intestines. As she separated the organ from the rest of the digestive tract and pulled it out of the new cavity, Pinkie grew jovial. Laughing as she gutted her friend, Pinkie began to make jokes. Dash, growing weaker from this new source of blood loss, tried desperately to shut out the macabre comedy act.
“Look at me, I’m Rarity!” Pinkie laughed, slinging the intestinal tube around her neck and spraying blood in all directions. “Isn’t my new scarf soooo pretty?”
Reaching back inside, she sliced the smaller intestine off from the bowls. Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed the slimy organ through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. “Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.”
Dash was barely aware of what was going on anymore. The shock was causing her to fade. Disappointed, Pinkie dived back into the blue pony’s guts, ramping up her routine.
“Aw, don’t go yet Dash.” Pinkie started pulling out the rest of Dash’s organs, pausing with each removal. “I know I can be a real pancreas, but you know I’m just kidney with you. You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.”
Pinkie placed the discarded body parts into a bucket, keeping the last one for bit longer. “Ooo, bagpipes.” she said, placing the end of Dash’s esophagus in her mouth and the stomach in her armpit. She squeezed, and a spurt of acid hit her tongue. “Eww! Oh hey look, there’s your cupcake, Dash!”
Dash didn’t hear her tormentor. She had slipped from conciseness minutes ago. Pinkie, not yet satisfied, hit Dash with another adrenaline shot. Dash woke up for the last time, her heart pounding. Warm blood flowed out from the wound in her chest in great spurts. It wouldn’t be long now.
Pinkie brought Dash around onto her back again and straddled the blue pony’s chest, scalpel at the ready.
“Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I’m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer. I really wanted to spend more time with you before we got here. But I guess it’s my fault; I should have taken it a little slower. Oh well. It was really was nice knowing you, Dash!”
The blade sunk into the blue throat and worked its way up to Dash’s chin. Coming back down, Pinkie’s scalpel then circled Dash’s neck. The last thing Rainbow Dash felt was her skin being cut away from her skull, and the metal of the blade scraping her teeth.
Then she was gone.
Pinkie Pie stared into the mirror. She had done a really good job, even keeping the eyelids. She winked, and Dash winked back. Pinkie smiled.
But still, she was sad that her friend was now gone. Dash had only lasted fifty minutes, not nearly as long as Pinkie had wanted. She looked back at the cadaver hanging in the center of the room, the last of her friend’s fluids draining into a pan. Yup, no more Rainbow Dash.
As she looked, Pinkie cocked her head. She began to take notice of the fact that there really wasn’t much damage to the corpse. “It fact,” the pink pony mused, “I think….” An idea exploded in her head. She was good at sewing and she had all the pieces, all she had to do was put them back together. Yeah, she just had to get some stuffing and bingo, she’d have Rainbow Dash forever. In fact, thought Pinkie, that’s what she’d do for all her best friends when their numbers came up. She was so excited, she skipped right over to the body with her skinner to get started. The cupcakes could wait; Pinkie Pie had a friend to make.
Sweet Apple Massacre
Big Macintosh surveyed the many apples trees that made up Sweet Apple Acres. It was nearly apple-buck season once again, and it looked as though they would be having a bumper harvest this year. He nodded, satisfied. His sister Applejack walked up beside him.
"Whoo, boy howdy! I sure am glad you ain't injured this time, Big Macintosh!" she said. "Why, there's even more apples on them trees than last year!"
"Eeyup!" Big Macintosh replied, in his characteristic manner. "Them's a lotta apples."
Applejack was silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of the slight breeze against her blonde mane. "Say, I don't suppose you've seen Apple Bloom anywhere, have ya? I been looking for her all day, and she ain't nowhere to be found."
Big Macintosh shook his head. "Sorry sis, can't say I have."
"Darn! That silly filly's probably gone off somewhere with her friends. I just hope she ain't getting herself into any mischief, or else there'll be hay to pay!"
"Don't you go worryin' yourself, Applejack," he replied, "I'm sure she's perfectly fine. But anyway, I need to go back to the barn. I gotta go and press some apples for some of my home-brewed apple cider. I hoof-picked a few apples earlier specially, all nice and plump and ripe, and they ain't gonna press themselves."
Applejack laughed. "You sure do love your cider, don't ya! Just make sure Apple Bloom don't get her hooves on it again, we all know what happened last time!"
Big Macintosh chuckled along with his sister. "Eeyup!"
The large red pony trotted back to the barn, and gently closed the door. He opened a trap-door with his mouth and went down the steps into an old disused apple cellar. Usually it was just filled with junk; scrap metal, old worn out ploughs, old rope and various other bits and bobs that had outlived their usefulness. Big Macintosh often came down here when he wanted to get away from the world, to withdraw for a little while for some peace and quiet.
Today was different, however. The old rope, at least, had found a new use, because in cellar space were Apple Bloom and her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, bound and gagged, propped up against the wall. Three pairs of scared, round eyes looked up at Big Macintosh as he approached.
"Now then, ya three fillies," he said, as placid as ever. "Y'all need to learn a lesson. You need to learn not to mess around with Big Macintosh. All I want is some peace and quiet," he said, looking directly at Apple Bloom. The little red haired filly cowered under his gaze. "All I want is a quiet life, without all you Cutie Mark Crusaders runnin' round the place, making with the noise. When I'm finished with y'all, there gonna be no noise from you ever again."
As Big Macintosh approached, Scootaloo flapped her wings, struggling to get off the ground. Big Macintosh laughed, and grabbed one of her wings. He twisted, at first slow, watching the pain visibly grow in her eyes, but then tore hard, smiling slightly when he heard the snap and the muffled whimper that came from Scootaloo. He then threw her to the ground.
"Your wings are useless, ya silly filly," he said pleasantly. He then went to a toolbox and took out a rusty knife with a jagged blade and dropped it in front of the three fillies. "I'm gonna take off those gags now," he said. "The first one of you to scream gets their tongues cut out."
He took off Sweetie Belle's gag first. She looked up at him with terror, but managed to stay quiet. Next was Scootaloo. She let out a strangled whine and was breathing heavily, still in horrendous pain from her broken wing, but managed to resist the temptation. Finally, he removed the gag from his sister Apple Bloom. She stared at him with her large round eyes, filled with fear and incomprehension. This was Big Macintosh after all, her big brother and the gentlest of souls. Wasn't he? Surely this was just a horrible joke? But she had seen what he had done to Scootaloo's wing, and it was definitely no joke. She took a deep breath.
"APPLEJA-"
Big Macintosh shoved his hoof in Apple Bloom's mouth, silencing her scream. He sighed and shook his head. "I tole you not to scream, Apple Bloom. You should listen to your big brother."
"I'll... I'll scream, and scream again, an' Applejack will hear and, and..." Apple Bloom said, falteringly.
"Ya know, I kinda hope you do. After all, I still ain't forgiven Applejack for that injury she gave me last apple-buck season. If you want Applejack to join y'all down here, scream away. I, for one, would welcome her company. But now, to business."
Big Macintosh picked up the knife, and loomed over the cowering Apple Bloom. He pinned her down with a powerful hoof, and stuck the knife into Apple Bloom's mouth. Sweetie Belle vomited at the sight, the thick yellow chunks and acidic-smelling liquid spattering heavily on the floor. Scootaloo managed not to be sick, but rather gasped and sobbed and choked with panic. Big Macintosh forced open Apple Bloom's mouth and with some effort cut out her tongue. Apple Bloom tried to scream but her mouth was too full of blood, so it was more of a muted gurgle. After a short while she collapsed, tears streaming from her eyes, falling unconscious from the shock and the pain. Big Macintosh then took the tongue and rolled it in the puddle of putrid vomit on the floor. He smiled at Scootaloo.
"Ya hungry?"
Scootaloo shook her head vigorously and cast him a defiant glare. "If Rainbow Dash was here she would kick the crap out of you, you... you maniac!"
Big Macintosh shrugged. "Well, she ain't. An' anyway, I wouldn't be so sure about that. Rainbow Dash ain't as tough as she likes to make out." He shoved the vomit-covered tongue into Scootaloo's mouth, and used his hoof to clamp her mouth shut. "Don't you go tryin' to spit it out now," he said calmly, with a little laugh and the filly struggled and squirmed. "Din't your mother ever tell you how important it is to chew your food?"
Scootaloo closed her eyes and flapped her one good wing desperately, eventually swallowing Apple Bloom's tongue. Big Macintosh, still holding the writhing Scootaloo down with his strong hooves, then mounted the orange filly and slid his penis into her tight virgin pussy, raping her for several minutes while Sweetie Belle watched, trembling with revulsion. Apple Bloom was still out cold, blood pouring from her torn-up mouth.
"Cutie Mark Crusaders rape victims," Big Macintosh said with tender mockery as he fucked Scootaloo, followed by a gentle chuckle. "Guess y'all found your purpose in life now; your special talent is gettin' raped. Eeyup."
Eventually he withdrew from Scootaloo, and gripped her head tight and repeatedly punched her hard with a hoof in the face, causing her nose to shatter and spurt with blood. He scooped up some of the blood and some of Sweetie Belle's vomit with his tongue and held it in his mouth, so that it mixed with his saliva, and then brought his mouth close to Scootaloo's and spat the rank mixture into her mouth. He clamped his hoof over her mouth and held her nose until she gagged and eventually had no choice but to swallow.
As Scootaloo retched and spat and cried, he turned to Sweetie Belle. He grabbed her easily, as she was too shocked and traumatised to respond, and with apparent amusement he rammed her horn up Scootaloo's ass. The horn was too big and hard, so the skin around Scootaloo's ass ripped and blood and fecal matter first trickled and then poured profusely down onto Sweetie Belle's face, as well as urine as Scootaloo pissed herself.
"You keep doin' that, Sweetie Belle," he said. The unicorn carried on pushing her horn up Scootaloo's anus, slowly but surely. Her normally well groomed pink and purple mane was now stained a reddish-brown, glistening with the wetness of the piss and blood. "If ya stop, I'll come over there and, uh, get creative. I may seem a bit dense, but I'm actually quite a creative stallion, ya know," Big Macintosh said, with a wink. "Eeyup!"
He went to Apple Bloom and penetrated his little sister's unconscious body with his hard cock. While he violated her, he got another knife, this one sharp and shiny, and sliced open her flank, causing her glistening intestines to flop out wetly onto the floor. He glanced over, and was pleased to see that Sweetie Belle was still using her horn to anally penetrate Scootaloo, and her face was now completely covered in blood and feces and urine.
He turned his attention back to Apple Bloom, and scooped up her crimson entrails and wrapped them around her neck, still fucking the filly, and with his front hooves he pulled and pulled until it was wrapped so tightly around Apple Bloom's neck that it broke her windpipe. She was now surely dead, but Big Macintosh continued fucking her furiously until her body began to lose form and collapse into a quivering, amorphous mass of fur and blood and flesh. The perineum had fallen away, leaving a single red and raw gaping void. He carried on until he was fucking nothing but a single swollen and bloody orifice, and then discarded his baby sister's carcass as though she were nothing more than a rotten apple core.
He then took the knife, and grabbed Sweetie Belle and tossed her aside. He forced himself into Scootaloo's ruined anus, and then took the knife and cut from her ass in a sweeping motion up to her belly, and all her innards fell out. He then grabbed her head, twisted and tore it clean off, using his immense strength, and fucked it in the mouth and then tossed it aside. He then had sex with her headless body, both in the vagina and the ass until he got bored.
Sweetie Belle was the last remaining Cutie Mark Crusader. She was herself barely conscious, overcome with the nauseous stench of blood, shit and piss that covered her horn and her face. Big Macintosh pinned Sweetie Belle down with his hoof and plunged the knife into her green eye, and twisted, causing vitreous fluid to dribble out onto the handle. At that, Sweetie Belle let out a throaty whine and involuntarily emptied her bowels, and the aroma of fresh urine and feces filled the apple cellar once again. He withdrew the knife and did the same to the other eye, each time holding her tight and sticking his hoof into her mouth to silence her agonised screams. He licked the vitreous fluid that had leaked onto the knife, and then methodically began cutting and hacking at her front left hoof using the rusty knife. The knife was quite blunt, so it took a Herculean effort to get through the skin, bone and cartilage, but eventually the bone splintered and the leg came off. He did the same to her other legs, until all four were amputated and nothing remained but bloody stumps, with slimy white ligament and broken bone shards hanging out. At some point Sweetie Belle had passed out, the overwhelming pain too much for her to bear.
He then used the knife to gouge out her left eye and jammed his penis into her eye socket, penetrating repeatedly deep into her brain, enjoying how tight her skull felt around his hard shaft and how warm and squishy the brain-matter felt against the tip of his throbbing penis. As he did he twisted Sweetie Belle's neck. After he had finished skull-fucking her, he cracked open her skull with a swift stamp of the hoof, and bent down and ate some of the exposed brain, taking care to spit out a few fragments of skull bone that had got mixed in as he chewed. It was warm and slimy and tough, and stuck to the back of his throat. He swallowed, and then raped Sweetie Belle in the ass until it tore open and his engorged penis was smeared with what little fecal matter remained in her rectum.
He took one of Sweetie Belle's detached legs and shoved it inside her ass, and then fucked Apple Bloom and Scootaloo's bodies the same way, forcing the amputated limb in, hoof-first, as far as it could go. He thought how strange it was that the still lumps of torn flesh that he was fucking with Sweetie Belle's leg had been so vibrant and alive such a short time ago.
But now, all three were dead, and he finished by spurting his voluminous load into Apple Bloom's destroyed backside. He watched with satisfaction as the semen and blood and shit mixed together, forming a foamy maroon pool. He bent down and greedily lapped up some of it with his tongue, pressing his tongue deep into her anal cavity so as not to miss any, letting some dribbling down his chin. It tasted foul of course, a rancid, tangy slime that burned his throat, but it felt so satisfying. He swallowed the filthy goo, and wiped his mouth with a hoof. It was done. Big Macintosh would finally get his peace and quiet.
"Big Macintosh, ya down there?"
It was Applejack. He looked at the disfigured corpses of the three fillies, all now barely recognisable as the oh-so-sweet Cutie Mark Crusaders, and realised he felt strangely unsatisfied. It had all been a bit too quick and easy. Now Applejack... that would be a challenge. She was Ponyville's best athlete after all; she even had the Prize Pony of Ponyville trophy to prove it. And, of course, he still hadn't forgiven her for that injury. He felt his penis stiffen once again in anticipation.
"Hey, Big Mac, I said are ya down there?" came Applejack's lilting voice again, this time more insistent.
Big Macintosh replied serenely, "I sure am, sis. Hey, come down here a minute. I've got somethin' to show you."
"Sure thing! What is it?"
"It's a surprise."
"Oh boy, I sure do love surprises! Somethin' real nice I'll bet."
Something real nice? Big Macintosh looked at the mangled, mutilated remains of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and his lips curled into a thin smile.
"Eeyup."
"Whoo, boy howdy! I sure am glad you ain't injured this time, Big Macintosh!" she said. "Why, there's even more apples on them trees than last year!"
"Eeyup!" Big Macintosh replied, in his characteristic manner. "Them's a lotta apples."
Applejack was silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of the slight breeze against her blonde mane. "Say, I don't suppose you've seen Apple Bloom anywhere, have ya? I been looking for her all day, and she ain't nowhere to be found."
Big Macintosh shook his head. "Sorry sis, can't say I have."
"Darn! That silly filly's probably gone off somewhere with her friends. I just hope she ain't getting herself into any mischief, or else there'll be hay to pay!"
"Don't you go worryin' yourself, Applejack," he replied, "I'm sure she's perfectly fine. But anyway, I need to go back to the barn. I gotta go and press some apples for some of my home-brewed apple cider. I hoof-picked a few apples earlier specially, all nice and plump and ripe, and they ain't gonna press themselves."
Applejack laughed. "You sure do love your cider, don't ya! Just make sure Apple Bloom don't get her hooves on it again, we all know what happened last time!"
Big Macintosh chuckled along with his sister. "Eeyup!"
The large red pony trotted back to the barn, and gently closed the door. He opened a trap-door with his mouth and went down the steps into an old disused apple cellar. Usually it was just filled with junk; scrap metal, old worn out ploughs, old rope and various other bits and bobs that had outlived their usefulness. Big Macintosh often came down here when he wanted to get away from the world, to withdraw for a little while for some peace and quiet.
Today was different, however. The old rope, at least, had found a new use, because in cellar space were Apple Bloom and her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, bound and gagged, propped up against the wall. Three pairs of scared, round eyes looked up at Big Macintosh as he approached.
"Now then, ya three fillies," he said, as placid as ever. "Y'all need to learn a lesson. You need to learn not to mess around with Big Macintosh. All I want is some peace and quiet," he said, looking directly at Apple Bloom. The little red haired filly cowered under his gaze. "All I want is a quiet life, without all you Cutie Mark Crusaders runnin' round the place, making with the noise. When I'm finished with y'all, there gonna be no noise from you ever again."
As Big Macintosh approached, Scootaloo flapped her wings, struggling to get off the ground. Big Macintosh laughed, and grabbed one of her wings. He twisted, at first slow, watching the pain visibly grow in her eyes, but then tore hard, smiling slightly when he heard the snap and the muffled whimper that came from Scootaloo. He then threw her to the ground.
"Your wings are useless, ya silly filly," he said pleasantly. He then went to a toolbox and took out a rusty knife with a jagged blade and dropped it in front of the three fillies. "I'm gonna take off those gags now," he said. "The first one of you to scream gets their tongues cut out."
He took off Sweetie Belle's gag first. She looked up at him with terror, but managed to stay quiet. Next was Scootaloo. She let out a strangled whine and was breathing heavily, still in horrendous pain from her broken wing, but managed to resist the temptation. Finally, he removed the gag from his sister Apple Bloom. She stared at him with her large round eyes, filled with fear and incomprehension. This was Big Macintosh after all, her big brother and the gentlest of souls. Wasn't he? Surely this was just a horrible joke? But she had seen what he had done to Scootaloo's wing, and it was definitely no joke. She took a deep breath.
"APPLEJA-"
Big Macintosh shoved his hoof in Apple Bloom's mouth, silencing her scream. He sighed and shook his head. "I tole you not to scream, Apple Bloom. You should listen to your big brother."
"I'll... I'll scream, and scream again, an' Applejack will hear and, and..." Apple Bloom said, falteringly.
"Ya know, I kinda hope you do. After all, I still ain't forgiven Applejack for that injury she gave me last apple-buck season. If you want Applejack to join y'all down here, scream away. I, for one, would welcome her company. But now, to business."
Big Macintosh picked up the knife, and loomed over the cowering Apple Bloom. He pinned her down with a powerful hoof, and stuck the knife into Apple Bloom's mouth. Sweetie Belle vomited at the sight, the thick yellow chunks and acidic-smelling liquid spattering heavily on the floor. Scootaloo managed not to be sick, but rather gasped and sobbed and choked with panic. Big Macintosh forced open Apple Bloom's mouth and with some effort cut out her tongue. Apple Bloom tried to scream but her mouth was too full of blood, so it was more of a muted gurgle. After a short while she collapsed, tears streaming from her eyes, falling unconscious from the shock and the pain. Big Macintosh then took the tongue and rolled it in the puddle of putrid vomit on the floor. He smiled at Scootaloo.
"Ya hungry?"
Scootaloo shook her head vigorously and cast him a defiant glare. "If Rainbow Dash was here she would kick the crap out of you, you... you maniac!"
Big Macintosh shrugged. "Well, she ain't. An' anyway, I wouldn't be so sure about that. Rainbow Dash ain't as tough as she likes to make out." He shoved the vomit-covered tongue into Scootaloo's mouth, and used his hoof to clamp her mouth shut. "Don't you go tryin' to spit it out now," he said calmly, with a little laugh and the filly struggled and squirmed. "Din't your mother ever tell you how important it is to chew your food?"
Scootaloo closed her eyes and flapped her one good wing desperately, eventually swallowing Apple Bloom's tongue. Big Macintosh, still holding the writhing Scootaloo down with his strong hooves, then mounted the orange filly and slid his penis into her tight virgin pussy, raping her for several minutes while Sweetie Belle watched, trembling with revulsion. Apple Bloom was still out cold, blood pouring from her torn-up mouth.
"Cutie Mark Crusaders rape victims," Big Macintosh said with tender mockery as he fucked Scootaloo, followed by a gentle chuckle. "Guess y'all found your purpose in life now; your special talent is gettin' raped. Eeyup."
Eventually he withdrew from Scootaloo, and gripped her head tight and repeatedly punched her hard with a hoof in the face, causing her nose to shatter and spurt with blood. He scooped up some of the blood and some of Sweetie Belle's vomit with his tongue and held it in his mouth, so that it mixed with his saliva, and then brought his mouth close to Scootaloo's and spat the rank mixture into her mouth. He clamped his hoof over her mouth and held her nose until she gagged and eventually had no choice but to swallow.
As Scootaloo retched and spat and cried, he turned to Sweetie Belle. He grabbed her easily, as she was too shocked and traumatised to respond, and with apparent amusement he rammed her horn up Scootaloo's ass. The horn was too big and hard, so the skin around Scootaloo's ass ripped and blood and fecal matter first trickled and then poured profusely down onto Sweetie Belle's face, as well as urine as Scootaloo pissed herself.
"You keep doin' that, Sweetie Belle," he said. The unicorn carried on pushing her horn up Scootaloo's anus, slowly but surely. Her normally well groomed pink and purple mane was now stained a reddish-brown, glistening with the wetness of the piss and blood. "If ya stop, I'll come over there and, uh, get creative. I may seem a bit dense, but I'm actually quite a creative stallion, ya know," Big Macintosh said, with a wink. "Eeyup!"
He went to Apple Bloom and penetrated his little sister's unconscious body with his hard cock. While he violated her, he got another knife, this one sharp and shiny, and sliced open her flank, causing her glistening intestines to flop out wetly onto the floor. He glanced over, and was pleased to see that Sweetie Belle was still using her horn to anally penetrate Scootaloo, and her face was now completely covered in blood and feces and urine.
He turned his attention back to Apple Bloom, and scooped up her crimson entrails and wrapped them around her neck, still fucking the filly, and with his front hooves he pulled and pulled until it was wrapped so tightly around Apple Bloom's neck that it broke her windpipe. She was now surely dead, but Big Macintosh continued fucking her furiously until her body began to lose form and collapse into a quivering, amorphous mass of fur and blood and flesh. The perineum had fallen away, leaving a single red and raw gaping void. He carried on until he was fucking nothing but a single swollen and bloody orifice, and then discarded his baby sister's carcass as though she were nothing more than a rotten apple core.
He then took the knife, and grabbed Sweetie Belle and tossed her aside. He forced himself into Scootaloo's ruined anus, and then took the knife and cut from her ass in a sweeping motion up to her belly, and all her innards fell out. He then grabbed her head, twisted and tore it clean off, using his immense strength, and fucked it in the mouth and then tossed it aside. He then had sex with her headless body, both in the vagina and the ass until he got bored.
Sweetie Belle was the last remaining Cutie Mark Crusader. She was herself barely conscious, overcome with the nauseous stench of blood, shit and piss that covered her horn and her face. Big Macintosh pinned Sweetie Belle down with his hoof and plunged the knife into her green eye, and twisted, causing vitreous fluid to dribble out onto the handle. At that, Sweetie Belle let out a throaty whine and involuntarily emptied her bowels, and the aroma of fresh urine and feces filled the apple cellar once again. He withdrew the knife and did the same to the other eye, each time holding her tight and sticking his hoof into her mouth to silence her agonised screams. He licked the vitreous fluid that had leaked onto the knife, and then methodically began cutting and hacking at her front left hoof using the rusty knife. The knife was quite blunt, so it took a Herculean effort to get through the skin, bone and cartilage, but eventually the bone splintered and the leg came off. He did the same to her other legs, until all four were amputated and nothing remained but bloody stumps, with slimy white ligament and broken bone shards hanging out. At some point Sweetie Belle had passed out, the overwhelming pain too much for her to bear.
He then used the knife to gouge out her left eye and jammed his penis into her eye socket, penetrating repeatedly deep into her brain, enjoying how tight her skull felt around his hard shaft and how warm and squishy the brain-matter felt against the tip of his throbbing penis. As he did he twisted Sweetie Belle's neck. After he had finished skull-fucking her, he cracked open her skull with a swift stamp of the hoof, and bent down and ate some of the exposed brain, taking care to spit out a few fragments of skull bone that had got mixed in as he chewed. It was warm and slimy and tough, and stuck to the back of his throat. He swallowed, and then raped Sweetie Belle in the ass until it tore open and his engorged penis was smeared with what little fecal matter remained in her rectum.
He took one of Sweetie Belle's detached legs and shoved it inside her ass, and then fucked Apple Bloom and Scootaloo's bodies the same way, forcing the amputated limb in, hoof-first, as far as it could go. He thought how strange it was that the still lumps of torn flesh that he was fucking with Sweetie Belle's leg had been so vibrant and alive such a short time ago.
But now, all three were dead, and he finished by spurting his voluminous load into Apple Bloom's destroyed backside. He watched with satisfaction as the semen and blood and shit mixed together, forming a foamy maroon pool. He bent down and greedily lapped up some of it with his tongue, pressing his tongue deep into her anal cavity so as not to miss any, letting some dribbling down his chin. It tasted foul of course, a rancid, tangy slime that burned his throat, but it felt so satisfying. He swallowed the filthy goo, and wiped his mouth with a hoof. It was done. Big Macintosh would finally get his peace and quiet.
"Big Macintosh, ya down there?"
It was Applejack. He looked at the disfigured corpses of the three fillies, all now barely recognisable as the oh-so-sweet Cutie Mark Crusaders, and realised he felt strangely unsatisfied. It had all been a bit too quick and easy. Now Applejack... that would be a challenge. She was Ponyville's best athlete after all; she even had the Prize Pony of Ponyville trophy to prove it. And, of course, he still hadn't forgiven her for that injury. He felt his penis stiffen once again in anticipation.
"Hey, Big Mac, I said are ya down there?" came Applejack's lilting voice again, this time more insistent.
Big Macintosh replied serenely, "I sure am, sis. Hey, come down here a minute. I've got somethin' to show you."
"Sure thing! What is it?"
"It's a surprise."
"Oh boy, I sure do love surprises! Somethin' real nice I'll bet."
Something real nice? Big Macintosh looked at the mangled, mutilated remains of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and his lips curled into a thin smile.
"Eeyup."
My Little Dashie ((This one is full of 'dem feels, nothing gorey here))
My Little Dashie
Written by ROBCakeran53 http://robcakeran53.deviantart.com/
Edited by SirPeppermintJam http://sirpeppermintjam.deviantart.com/
Based from this comic: http://img269.imageshack.us/img269/5121/happybirthdayrd1.jpg by http://oppositebros.deviantart.com/
For additional fan art, writings, and other work from this story: http://robcakeran53.deviantart.com/favourites/46446902
I live my life, one day at a time. A good portion of those days are uneventful, always falling in the same routine: I wake up, walk to work, work, walk home, then bum around until I go to bed. Some times I'll hang with my few friends, while other times I'll just play video games or watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Every so often, something new and interesting happens: I meet an old friend, I find a dollar on the ground, or I get chased by a stray dog.
Living in a dying city isn't very fun or interesting. This city was once full of life and color, but now... now most of the houses are sagging, the businesses sit empty and abandoned, and several open fields lay barren of the once great factories that helped drive the economy. I had never seen this city during those times in person, but I have seen pictures. My mother and father lived happy, and they could only wish the same for me growing up.
Sadly, I cannot say I have achieved that wish of theirs.
I've fallen into the same dull routine: Wake, work, sleep, repeat. I do have some moments of bliss, but the daily struggles I go through outweigh the small moments of joy I have. My Little Pony has helped, but it's still just another thing to give my hopes up on. Every time I see the show, or one of the ponies on a fan site, I recoil a bit at the bright colors, the joyful faces of the ponies, and the peaceful scenery of their world. It's so hard to look at that beautiful world, having it so close to my grasp; I reach out to touch it's warm colors and bright, smiling faces of the ponies.
Only to be stopped by my computer screen.
I snapped back to reality. It gets to the point where I will simply shut down my computer and walk away. I do that a lot, especially after my parents death. I go for a walk. When I feel sad, I walk. When I feel tired, I walk. When I feel like walking... I walk. Walking has become my second life in a sense; I spend at least half my day outside along the crumbling side-walks and decaying suburbs.
I've seen people come and go. I've seen buildings torn down, burned up, or have so much graffiti on its walls that its original color is unrecognizable. I very rarely pass any other people on my strolls. Most people don't like to look at their once beautiful city, their homes or former businesses. I don't blame them. In fact I envy them. They saw this place with their own two eyes, seeing the buildings still standing tall and proud, the lawns freshly cut, the paved roads, and sidewalks still intact.
The only thing I've ever seen that even comes close is my mother's paintings, each of them colorful scenes of this concrete world. She started painting once everything crumbled beneath her feet, making the sad scenery before her look beautiful. Her masterpiece is of an open field that yielded a parking garage. Over it, she drew an amazing rainbow. My favorite picture. I guess that is part of why I like Rainbow Dash the most out of all the other ponies. Her colors, the amazing sonic rainboom, all remind me of that picture.
There have been times I wished I had my own Rainbow Dash, or more realistically a plushie of her, to curl up in bed with. I've made an old Simba into a "temporary" replacement, until I am able to save enough money for one. It helps, in a way. Like holding it close will heal my wounds, my pain, and my sorrow. My feet, after countless hours of walking in my old shoes, pulsate under the sheet, and all the while, I'll hold that stuffed animal harder than a mother protecting her child. It's the only thing I can look at and feel true joy, even if it isn't physically the Rainbow Dash I want.
It will have to do.
----------
Today, as usual, I walked to work. It was the same shit, just a different day, watching the same people enter the store, grab their merchandise and pay, then walk out with bags in tow. My shift ended after several hours of this. I clocked out and started walking home. I decided to use a different route this time, for a change in pace, a little something different from the normal path I walk. This part of town was hit the worst; only a few houses still stand, and none of them occupied. It truly is a sad sight to see. Then again, it's really the only sight I see. The only sight I'll ever see.
Or so I thought.
I was stopped by something unusual; a stray cardboard box in the middle of the sidewalk. Now, living in this kind of area I see trash all the time. Boxes, McDonalds cups, and plastic bags litter the streets and empty fields, but rarely will I see a cardboard box that isn't crushed in one way or another. I noticed this particular box because it happened to be in my way. During my younger years, I tried to do what I could for the community. I'd pick up trash when I saw it, or I'd attempt to help my neighbors. It was a losing battle. Now-a-days, I'd given up any hope of cleaning this city, much less my neighborhood. Now I'll just pass the trash by, letting it blow away in the breeze or sit there and decompose. I let what's left of the "people" do their own things, since most of them don't care about anyone other than themselves. Why should I be any different?
I walked past the box, barely giving it a glance. Nothing about it caught my attention right away. I continued on, my home not far away now. Upon arriving, I sat down down and played some games, attempting to push the box out of my mind. I had little luck, as the box somehow managed to push it's way back in. Time crept on by, and I soon found myself wanting to go for another walk. I left the house and started down my usual route when I stopped. What was it about that box that made it stick out in my mind? I turned around, starting down the path I had taken to get home, the path that I only walk once in a blue moon. Curiosity got the best of me, and I wanted some closure.
Within minutes I found it, still sitting there, sad and alone among the broken concrete and over-grown grass. It didn't move, it didn't stand out as if it were special. It was an ordinary, brown cardboard box. I didn't want to say I came out here for nothing, so I walked closer to it. As I drew closer, however, I began to notice something inside. It was brightly colored, multiple colors in fact, and was quite small. Maybe the size of a few month old Labrador puppy.
I stopped beside the box, and looked down at the colorful blob inside.
This is where I currently stand: looking into the box at a small... something. No, I know exactly what it is, but my brain isn't allowing me to fully realize it just yet. At first I want to say it's simply a toy, left to die along with all the other things in this block. But then I saw it breathing. In fact, it appears to be sleeping. My hands are sweating, my breathing erratic, and I'm blinking my eyes trying to refresh my vision.
Each time, the image stays the same. Inside, is a sleeping... filly... Rainbow Dash.
Seeing as RG hates long posts, continue reading Here
Written by ROBCakeran53 http://robcakeran53.deviantart.com/
Edited by SirPeppermintJam http://sirpeppermintjam.deviantart.com/
Based from this comic: http://img269.imageshack.us/img269/5121/happybirthdayrd1.jpg by http://oppositebros.deviantart.com/
For additional fan art, writings, and other work from this story: http://robcakeran53.deviantart.com/favourites/46446902
I live my life, one day at a time. A good portion of those days are uneventful, always falling in the same routine: I wake up, walk to work, work, walk home, then bum around until I go to bed. Some times I'll hang with my few friends, while other times I'll just play video games or watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Every so often, something new and interesting happens: I meet an old friend, I find a dollar on the ground, or I get chased by a stray dog.
Living in a dying city isn't very fun or interesting. This city was once full of life and color, but now... now most of the houses are sagging, the businesses sit empty and abandoned, and several open fields lay barren of the once great factories that helped drive the economy. I had never seen this city during those times in person, but I have seen pictures. My mother and father lived happy, and they could only wish the same for me growing up.
Sadly, I cannot say I have achieved that wish of theirs.
I've fallen into the same dull routine: Wake, work, sleep, repeat. I do have some moments of bliss, but the daily struggles I go through outweigh the small moments of joy I have. My Little Pony has helped, but it's still just another thing to give my hopes up on. Every time I see the show, or one of the ponies on a fan site, I recoil a bit at the bright colors, the joyful faces of the ponies, and the peaceful scenery of their world. It's so hard to look at that beautiful world, having it so close to my grasp; I reach out to touch it's warm colors and bright, smiling faces of the ponies.
Only to be stopped by my computer screen.
I snapped back to reality. It gets to the point where I will simply shut down my computer and walk away. I do that a lot, especially after my parents death. I go for a walk. When I feel sad, I walk. When I feel tired, I walk. When I feel like walking... I walk. Walking has become my second life in a sense; I spend at least half my day outside along the crumbling side-walks and decaying suburbs.
I've seen people come and go. I've seen buildings torn down, burned up, or have so much graffiti on its walls that its original color is unrecognizable. I very rarely pass any other people on my strolls. Most people don't like to look at their once beautiful city, their homes or former businesses. I don't blame them. In fact I envy them. They saw this place with their own two eyes, seeing the buildings still standing tall and proud, the lawns freshly cut, the paved roads, and sidewalks still intact.
The only thing I've ever seen that even comes close is my mother's paintings, each of them colorful scenes of this concrete world. She started painting once everything crumbled beneath her feet, making the sad scenery before her look beautiful. Her masterpiece is of an open field that yielded a parking garage. Over it, she drew an amazing rainbow. My favorite picture. I guess that is part of why I like Rainbow Dash the most out of all the other ponies. Her colors, the amazing sonic rainboom, all remind me of that picture.
There have been times I wished I had my own Rainbow Dash, or more realistically a plushie of her, to curl up in bed with. I've made an old Simba into a "temporary" replacement, until I am able to save enough money for one. It helps, in a way. Like holding it close will heal my wounds, my pain, and my sorrow. My feet, after countless hours of walking in my old shoes, pulsate under the sheet, and all the while, I'll hold that stuffed animal harder than a mother protecting her child. It's the only thing I can look at and feel true joy, even if it isn't physically the Rainbow Dash I want.
It will have to do.
----------
Today, as usual, I walked to work. It was the same shit, just a different day, watching the same people enter the store, grab their merchandise and pay, then walk out with bags in tow. My shift ended after several hours of this. I clocked out and started walking home. I decided to use a different route this time, for a change in pace, a little something different from the normal path I walk. This part of town was hit the worst; only a few houses still stand, and none of them occupied. It truly is a sad sight to see. Then again, it's really the only sight I see. The only sight I'll ever see.
Or so I thought.
I was stopped by something unusual; a stray cardboard box in the middle of the sidewalk. Now, living in this kind of area I see trash all the time. Boxes, McDonalds cups, and plastic bags litter the streets and empty fields, but rarely will I see a cardboard box that isn't crushed in one way or another. I noticed this particular box because it happened to be in my way. During my younger years, I tried to do what I could for the community. I'd pick up trash when I saw it, or I'd attempt to help my neighbors. It was a losing battle. Now-a-days, I'd given up any hope of cleaning this city, much less my neighborhood. Now I'll just pass the trash by, letting it blow away in the breeze or sit there and decompose. I let what's left of the "people" do their own things, since most of them don't care about anyone other than themselves. Why should I be any different?
I walked past the box, barely giving it a glance. Nothing about it caught my attention right away. I continued on, my home not far away now. Upon arriving, I sat down down and played some games, attempting to push the box out of my mind. I had little luck, as the box somehow managed to push it's way back in. Time crept on by, and I soon found myself wanting to go for another walk. I left the house and started down my usual route when I stopped. What was it about that box that made it stick out in my mind? I turned around, starting down the path I had taken to get home, the path that I only walk once in a blue moon. Curiosity got the best of me, and I wanted some closure.
Within minutes I found it, still sitting there, sad and alone among the broken concrete and over-grown grass. It didn't move, it didn't stand out as if it were special. It was an ordinary, brown cardboard box. I didn't want to say I came out here for nothing, so I walked closer to it. As I drew closer, however, I began to notice something inside. It was brightly colored, multiple colors in fact, and was quite small. Maybe the size of a few month old Labrador puppy.
I stopped beside the box, and looked down at the colorful blob inside.
This is where I currently stand: looking into the box at a small... something. No, I know exactly what it is, but my brain isn't allowing me to fully realize it just yet. At first I want to say it's simply a toy, left to die along with all the other things in this block. But then I saw it breathing. In fact, it appears to be sleeping. My hands are sweating, my breathing erratic, and I'm blinking my eyes trying to refresh my vision.
Each time, the image stays the same. Inside, is a sleeping... filly... Rainbow Dash.
Seeing as RG hates long posts, continue reading Here
