There is a light in the heart of equines.

Of all the races of Equestria, one would be extremely hard pressed to find souls as equally warm, as trusting and so loving of every facet of life. Whether or not the sheer compassion of the ponies of Equestria is an intrinsic gift or merely a byproduct of the socially nourishing upbringing is a mystery; however, many speculate that it is likely a combination of the two.

In all aspects, ponies are not only taught, but individually learn the immense value of care; of empathy, of happiness and love, the value of life itself. Again, one would be extremely hard pressed to find one that cherished this more so than Pinkamena Diane Pie. Pinkie loved life, she loved laughter, and it made her heart swell to hold her friends close and share that joy with them.

To see a friend, her loved one, torn away from herself and broken to the point where ‘hope’ is but a distant memory, is such a drastic and insufferably agonizing shift that most ponies would fail to react with little to no rationality at all.

Perhaps this is merely another factor that led to her abandonment of those values that stormy night.

“Taste the rainbow, motherfucker.”

Beady brown eyes cracked open instantly upon her statement, only to find the razor sharp tip of an uncomfortably large knife dangling a mere inch from the pupil.

Suddenly, the knife was no longer an inch away.

Pinkie plunged the knife directly into the eye of Rainbow Dash’s captor, his tortured screams of pain and horror filling the bedroom as she yanked it from his face. She wasted no time in skewering his hand directly into the headboard of his bed as he flailed pinning him in place as he shrieked in agony.

Pinkie didn’t give him time to scream again, as she kicked him in the face as hard as she could, feeling bone snap beneath her hooves. The screaming quickly stopped.

He jerked when she kicked him, but not enough to dislodge his impaled hand from the wooden perch. Pinkie wrenched it free with both of her hooves, panting as he tumbled to the floor, and didn’t move. ‘Master’ didn’t seem to be breathing anymore.

It couldn’t hurt to be safe.

Well.

It couldn’t hurt Pinkie, anyway.

With a scream of hate, Pinkie jammed the knife straight downward and into his face, another spurt of blood flying as she ripped it from his jaw. It was then that she noticed his beady almond eyes flickering.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t screaming because he had died already; he wasn’t screaming because she’d broken his neck.

In a way, Pinkie Pie was almost glad that he hadn’t died so swiftly.

Almost.

Pinkie ripped up as much non vital flesh as she could first. He couldn’t be allowed to embrace death so easily. No; he had to suffer first. She stamped his fingers as hard as she could, gripping the knife in her mouth and finally piercing his lungs, again and again with short stabs. It felt like a long, long time before the room was occasionally illuminated via distant lightning until she eventually stopped stabbing him.

She hadn’t even noticed that she was crying; or, for that matter, just how much blood she had coated herself with. Pinkie felt hot and cold at the same time; like she were dreaming, going numb. This wasn’t really happening to her. Pinkie wasn’t that kind of pony to so casually throw life away, of any kind.

Or maybe, in the instant that she made that decision, Pinkie Pie stopped being the childish Pinkie Pie that she was, and took up the mantle of Pinkamena.

Why?

There is no why.

There was only black, boiling hate. Sorrow, disillusionment, and boundless hatred.

There is a light in the heart of equines.

However, the brighter the light that shines within the souls of the innocent, the greater the darkness that shall rise to oppose them.

Pinkie Pie – no, Pinkamena – sat bolt upright in bed, covered head to hoof in cold sweat.

She shakily rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and when she pulled her hooves away, found them to be damp. Pinkamena shook her head, tugging fitfully at the candy-print decorated sheets. That dream again. Or, nightmare, rather.

Instinctively, she wiped her hooves to clean them of the foul liquid; wipe away the blood, wipe it all off. It took her nearly a full beat to catch herself, and forced her hooves to her sides. There was no nightmarish assault, there was no battered and barely breathing Dashie. There was no blood, there was no rain, there was no ‘Mister Klaskovsky’.

Not anymore, at least.

It made Pinkamena sick just thinking about it, the filthy bulge of self-loathing and hate boiling in her chest as she unwillingly thought of her own actions against ‘Master’. But it had been an active decision, she vaguely told herself yet again as she slowly slid out of bed, the bright morning sun garishly burning at her eyes. Pinkamena had chosen to take action, and this had been the result.

She stared at herself with bloodshot eyes for the longest time over the washbasin, breathing in and out of her nostrils until the mirror began to fog slightly.

So.

This is what Pinkamena was now.

Just a miserable pink ball of disgust and regret.

Bitterness and misery began to swell in her chest, and Pinkamena found it difficult to look at herself any longer. She sourly fed Gummy his breakfast, and quietly slipped from Sugarcube Corner without waking any of its other residents.

Pinkamena was well versed in her routine.

Force herself out of bed before the nightmares returned, drag herself through town past all the ponies beaming revoltingly large smiles at her, try not to cry in front of Rainbow Dash. Back home, perform what work was necessary, and then refuse to leave her bed until the hurt went away.

If only her Dashie would get better.

Pinkamena could forget everything she had done, if only her Dashie wasn’t like… this anymore.

She wound her way through Ponyville almost in a haze, just as always. Past all the smiling faces, through the busy streets and happy townsfolk.

Why couldn’t the world stop for just one day? Couldn’t they all see that she was suffering? Couldn’t anypony tell that she was just as miserable and unhappy as Dashie? Why did they all have to keep being so horridly friendly? They didn’t mean their kind words. None of them did; it was all just pomp and circumstance, smoke and mirrors. They were all so damned shallow.

Pinkamena trundled in through the heavy doors to the dual hospital and mental institute eventually, unable to shake off her apathy long enough to wipe her hooves.

“Hello again, Miss Pinkie Pie!”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Pinkie stared coldly at the outer-Ponyville’s hospital receptionist. “My name is Pinkamena.”

The flat-maned pink mare glared daggers at the deep cobalt receptionist, who nervously shuffled her appointment papers in the nearly deserted waiting room. Pinkie Pie – or, rather, Pinkamena – had been a regular visitor, every single day.

And the receptionist was always smiling.

“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist nodded her head awkwardly. “Just remember that visiting hours are almost –” she didn’t get the chance to finish, as Pinkamena barged past her and down the hallway, the clop of her hooves filling the air as she left wordlessly.

It was bad enough being around herself; that was something that Pinkamena couldn’t escape. But lately, she had just begun to find the company of others more and more intolerable. Except for Rainbow Dash.

Her Dashie needed her.

“Dashie?” Pinkamena muttered softly, knocking once against the obtusely heavy wooden door to her friend’s room. It was always such a chore to wind her way through the labyrinth of hallways, but the prize at the end was worth it. She could see her Dashie again.

She nudged the door open, slipping inside the dimly lit room and taking a breath of the cool air.

Rainbow Dash lay just as she always did, staring blankly up at the ceiling beneath her sky blue sheets and breathing slowly. If Pinkamena closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that she was a little peaceful.

Even though she knew that wasn’t the case at all.

“Hey, Dashie,” Pinkamena said a little more loudly, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice. Rainbow Dash had that effect on her. Besides, the pegasus could use some good ol’ fashioned friendship right about now. “It’s me again. Are you feeling any better today?”

“Yes, Master.”

Pinkamena cringed at her response, a pain flaring in her chest. Always the same, always with the ‘Master’.

“No,” she said a little more forcefully, sitting down quietly in a chair beside the bed. “No, Dashie. It’s-it’s me. Pinkamena. You remember me. Right…? Right, Dashie?”

“Yes, Master. I’ve been a good little cum bucket.”

Pinkamena flinched again, drawing in breath sharply through her nose. It took everything she had not to weep at the sight of her friend, but she’d already done that for so many days now that maybe she didn’t have any more tears to shed. Pinkamena took a deep breath, holding her dear friend’s cerulean hoof gently.

“It’s… it’s gonna be okay, Dashie. You are going to be okay. You hear me? You-you just have to hang in there, and remember that we – that I’m here for you. I still love you, so, so much. You’re going to be okay, Dashie,” Pinkie fought back the urge to sob. “You have to. Please, Dashie. For me. Please, be okay.”

And this was mainly how Pinkamena’s visits with Rainbow Dash went. She would speak to her, hold and cradle her, struggle against the tears that she swore she wouldn’t shed anymore until the nurses forced her out. But she would be back the next day; Pinkamena knew she would. She had to be, for her Dashie.

“ –and after that, maybe we’ll go to the park. What do you say, Dashie?”

“I’m a good–”

“No!” Pinkamena clapped her hooves in front of Rainbow Dash, making her flinch. The flat maned pink party pony glared at her friend with a mixture of revulsion and pity, and her frown grew deeper. “No, Rainbow Dash. Please. Please, please, please stop saying that.”

When Rainbow Dash only stared back at her, Pinkamena pressed on.

“Please, Dashi- Rainbow Dash? For me?”

“Yes,” Rainbow Dash complied, dipping her head a little. “I’ll be a good girl. I’ll obey.”

Pinkamena opened her mouth to say something, but clamped it shut, torn. Of course she wanted her Dashie to get better; but this ‘obedience’ thing was out of hoof.

“No, look at me, Rainbow Dash,” Pinkamena said seriously, tilting the pegasus’s head up toward her. “Not because I said so. Because you want to get better. Okay, Dashie?”

Rainbow Dash had a faraway look in her eyes for a moment, prompting Pinkamena to hold her close again.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Pinkamena said softly, doing her best to be comforting. After all, it was her Dashie that was more important. “We’ll just drop it. Maybe another day. We’ll drop it. Okay? Shh, shh shh shh.”

Without warning, Rainbow Dash shoved her away.

“Stop touching me,” Dash glowered hatefully at her, pushing the mare from her embrace. Pinkamena pulled away, her heart feeling like it was going to break in half at the rejection. But Rainbow Dash merely returned to her ceiling staring again, blank look covering her face.

At least she had stopped her ‘other’ actions.

It had been even harder when Rainbow Dash was first hospitalized; begging Pinkamena and her friends to, of all things, return her to her ‘Master’. How she would sometimes plead with Pinkamena to do unspeakable things to her, screaming and crying when she didn’t. Pinkamena still refused to leave her side, even when her Dashie began grinding herself against the bed, moaning lewdly and making her blush and turn her head.

But she wouldn’t leave her friend.

Pinkamena would be there with her, always and forever.

Dashie needed her by her side, every day. She needed help, she needed Pinkie Pie.

But, try as she might, Pinkamena just couldn’t find it within herself to bring forth the old enthusiasm and happiness that she wanted to. She wasn’t that mare anymore. Aside from pain, she couldn’t feel much at all anymore.

Maybe she wasn’t anything anymore.

Pinkamena lost track of time, as she usually did when sitting by her Dashie’s side. She was a little surprised when the door swung inward after a couple of knocks.

“Dash? Oh, hello, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight nodded to her with a half-smile. “Good to see you’re up and about again, finally.”

“I told you,” Pinkie scowled, eyeing sullen draconequus beside her. “My name is Pinkamena.”

Discord gave her an odd, slightly tilted look, a mix somewhere between concern and confusion.

Pinkamena instantly barged between the two of them, leaving before they could being spewing their sentimental nonsense again. Especially Discord. Ever since she and Dashie had come back, he had been all tears and moping.

What did he know about suffering or regret? It was his fault all of this happened in the first place!

She shoved him out of the way, stomping down the hall hatefully and muttering dark things under her breath. Maybe it shouldn’t have been ‘Mister Klaskovsky’ that Pinkamena had dealt with first; maybe it should have been the wretched draconequus.

Pinkamena found her steps faltering, but she picked up pace again, stepping lightly over the linoleum floors, the occasional patch of sunlight filtering in cheerily through the windows.

What a horrible thought to have.

What kind of a monster was she? That would so readily – so casually – refer to something so heinous as taking another life?

But she had done it before…

What harm could doing it again…?

Pinkamena shook herself viciously, carrying on. She refused to continue that line of thought anymore. Thoughts that no pony should ever have. It would distract her from what she needed; and right now, what she needed was to get this abominable day over with and begin her next one, so that she could come back and visit her Dashie as soon as visiting hours began again.

“Pinkie!”

She almost paused again, but continued her pace. She didn’t go by that name anymore.

“Pinkie Pie!” Twilight called after her, and with a heavy sigh, Pinkamena gradually slowed her steps until she came to a halt.

“I already told you,” she rehearsed as she turned to face her violet companion. “My name is Pinkamena.”

“Yeah, of course it is,” the unicorn nodded nonchalantly. “Look, Pinkie –”

“Pinkamena.”

Twilight harrumphed, blowing out a breath of air and flipping her mane from her face.

“Fine. Pinkamena,” Twilight said. “Look. I’m just going to be blunt here. Everypony knows that you haven’t exactly been taking this whole situation…well.”

“Bite me.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Twilight sighed. “Pinkie, I – well, we’re all worried about you.”

“Sure you are.”

Twilight frowned, thinking. Why did she have to be so difficult?

“Twi, I get that you’re trying to be the ‘responsible’ one,” Pinkamena made a set of air quotes. “But I would personally appreciate it if you would just leave me alone. The only one really important here is Dashie.”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. She placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder, giving her a level look.

“Pinkie…” Twilight said slowly. “You know we’re your friends. And I understand that what you went through was… bad –”

“You don’t know anything,” Pinkamena slapped her hoof away, oddly reminiscent of what Rainbow Dash had just done to her.

Twilight paused, and pursed her lips.

“Pinkamena,” the unicorn stated carefully. “I know you said that you don’t need help – and before you give me another speech about how ‘Rainbow Dash is the important one’ again, I just want you to know that the others and I have been discussing it, and well… I mean, maybe you should get yourself checked in here, too.”

Twilight rushed it all out breathlessly, teetering nervously from hoof to hoof. Before Pinkamena had time to reply, she pushed on.

“I mean, not, like, permanently, or anything,” Twilight rubbed her foreleg in agitation. “Just… just to, maybe, see a professional about… about things. So… how about it?”

For a moment, Pinkamena almost considered her offer. Finally get the burdens off her back. Really sit down and discuss the horrible things she’d done, the things she’d seen. See a professional.

And for what?

For them to tell her that she was crazy?

“How about you eat dirt,” Pinkamena retorted coldly, scowling as she stamped away. Perhaps if she kept her head down and stomped faster, she could pretend that she hadn’t really seen the wounded expression on Twilight’s face.

Her friend’s face.

Now she was hurting her friends.

Maybe she was a monster.

A long day at Sugarcube Corner.

Pinkamena wordlessly handed customers their orders, cleaned up after everything was finished, and refused to look anypony in the eye. She hated their constant, judgmental stares and curious, prying eyes. They were all so nosy. Probably under the pretense of ‘caring’.

Stupid ponies.

She felt the boiling black taint rising in her again, but she fought it back down. It made her physically ill to think about bringing harm to somepony else, but at the same time…

No. Those were bad thoughts.

Pinkamena dragged herself into bed, tiredly patting Gummy on the head before crawling beneath the sheets gloomily. She wished it would all just go away, she wished that she didn’t have a night full of tormented dreams to look forward to. Pinkamena felt so tired and drained.

She actually felt a modicum of perverse pleasure at the thought of an oncoming rain, judging from the cloudy sky. At least the world would reflect her feelings, for a little while. Dark, cold, damp and turbulent. Pinkamena immediately scolded herself for thinking such things.

She needed to sleep.

More than that; it didn’t matter if she slept anymore. No, what she needed was rest. Her body hurt, her heart hurt. Her soul was aching, and it just wouldn’t stop. Pinkamena wanted to make it all go away. She wanted peace, she wanted out.

But everything would be fine in the end, she promised herself. Just so long as she could hold in there, just like she kept begging her Dashie to. Just for one more day, the same as she told herself every other day. One more day.

One more day, and maybe Dashie would finally start to get better. One more day, and maybe Dashie would finally see just how much Pinkie Pie really cared about her. One more day, and maybe she could finally rest again.

One more day, and maybe Pinkamena could finally be happy again.

One more day, and maybe Dashie would finally love her back.

Always, and forever.