Sweet Insanity: Hair-Trigger Madness
By John Keith Bone

“Oh my God…”
This wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be. Pinkie was dead! I killed her myself! But the note had her signature. The handwriting couldn’t have belonged to anyone else!!
Several moments passed before I could gather my shattered thoughts, but when I did, I bolted for the police station. I had to speak to the investigator that questioned me after I got out of the hospital! He HAD to know something!
The eyes of the investigator, a well-built, white-coated stallion wandered my distressed features for several moments before he stood.

“Sebastian, you need to relax.” He stated in a calm, official manner.

“Relax!? How the hell am I supposed to relax!? She’s got Rarity, man!” I roared at him, waving my arms in the air in indignation.

“Sebastian, you probably still haven’t gotten over the incident. You said you bashed her head in, how could anyone have survived that?” the officer asked.

“It doesn’t matter how she survived, she’s going to kill someone else! Look!!”
I shoved the note into his hoof, which he looked over carefully, his brow cinching with each passing moment.

“This is…” he began, but I cut him off.

“Yes! It’s real! Don’t you get it!?”
His eyes set in that hard manner that comes with many late, pensive nights and years of police training. He didn’t believe me… Even with the concrete evidence right in his face! After a long silence, he told me not to worry and all but shoved me out of his office. I didn’t take too well to his being so pushy, but I didn’t have much choice.

If the police won’t help me, then I need to find someone who will. But who?
After several minutes of pensive walking, I found myself thinking in circles. Nobody I knew would be able to assist me on such a task…

I really wish Jinx were here right now… I thought. She’d already be on a lead… Lead… Leader… LEADER!! THE MAYOR!!! She could help me put together a force!
At this thought, I bolted. Several ponies cast me odd glances as I ducked and dodged my way down the street. A quick dive beneath an oncoming cart and a hop over another coming at an adjacent angle put me squarely at the edge of the sidewalk, but I still had a lot of ground to cover. Several minutes passed before I arrived at the tall porcelain structure. The mayor’s home was a place that few frequented, but many knew well. If I hadn’t been so alarmed, I would’ve stood in awe of the amazing gothic architecture and perfectly kept lawn, but it wasn’t the time for that. Instead, I charged the door like a madman and began pounding the wooden frame. However, once my fist met the thing, it creaked open. This sobered me up enough for me to stop breathing as hard as I poked my head inside. The place was dark as night and a thin layer of dust had settled over everything. The air was stale, as though nobody had opened a door for weeks! My nose twitched as I took in a faint metallic scent. As I stepped into the hall, a familiar silence filled my ears… The silence of a tomb. This house had a heavy atmosphere of fear and calamity… With quick glances into the smoking room, and bar-like area, I began tip-toeing my way toward the common area. Nobody was in there either… A small gasp caught my attention, causing me to turn to the kitchen door. Heavy, fearful breathing sporadically sounded from within… It had to be the mayor… Still, more likely than not, it was a trap… The fire poker at the base of the fireplace in the common area became my weapon as I approached the room in question.
Sure enough, it was the mayor, but there was definitely something wrong. The kitchen was decorated with that familiar, twisted, distinctly Pinkie Pie way. Blood was splayed about the floor in small pools, organs with tied to the back of chairs and the message “Welcome home, Sebastian” was inscribed on the wall in blood. The mare had a death grip on the hilt of a butcher knife and a few superficial cuts to her face as well as the look of someone who’d just seen death for the first time in their life in her dilated eyes. The necklace of unicorn horns that hung from her neck was a striking resemblance to the one Pinkie wore in our last encounter, but these seemed fresh… So fresh in fact, that the blood on the ends had just begun to coagulate. My approach was very careful, quiet and calculated. Even though I was very clearly in the poor mare’s line of sight, it was as though she didn’t see me…

“Miss Mayor? Are you alright?” I asked, coming to a crouch a few feet away from her.
She was mumbling incoherent phrases, seemingly in Latin, but I couldn’t be sure. As far as I knew, the mayor was irreligious… As I reached out to her, she startled, gasping loudly as though snapping back to reality in an instant.

“Sebastian!” she exclaimed, finally tearing her gaze from the nondescript point she was staring at.

“Ma’am, listen-”
The frightened mare dropped her weapon and took a hold of my collar.

“Pinkie Pie is still alive!” she cried at the top of her lungs.
She knew! But how…? The mayor began frantically searching the dusty floor about her, shoving a bloodied note card in my grasp.

Dear Sebastian,
Surprised, aren’t you? I have to say, you were the most fun I ever had. You actually escaped! I applaud your skill, but the sales plummeted in the since I was gone, and I want you, my bestest friend, to watch my return! I even threw you this great homecoming party! I hope you like your present!
- Pinkamena Diane Pie
P.S. Behind you.
I dropped the note and spun around at the ready to swing the poker like a baseball bat, only to startle at what was presented to me. A rusty cage had been bolted to the wall, in which was hung a small unicorn filly with a white coat and purple mane, highlighted with a light pink. I knew her. I knew her well…