Author's Notes:

Here is the next chapter, sorry it took as long as it did. Please tell me if you spot any issues, such as grammar, spelling, or added/left off letters. If you enjoyed this, then please checkout my other stories, and thanks for reading!

It had been ten minutes after Pinkamena’s little encounter in the alleyway, which left two dead and one unconscious. In those ten minutes, Pinkamena had been drinking in the bar, having a conversation with Mack.

"I mean, there’s no way she could have been like that! Why would the elements choose someone like her for the Element of Loyalty, when she’s been lying to everyone for so long?”

Currently, she was going through the five stages of grief. She had already gone through anger, as the bodies in the alley will show. But now, she was going through denial, trying to think of any and all reason why she couldn’t be what they say she was. Mack was the only one listening to her, and he wasn’t going to let her try to deny what her friend was. He had only met her once, but she was just as bad, if not worse than Pinkamena. Mack had grieved once, a very long time ago.

When his partner had betrayed him, and he was forced to kill him. For years, he was stuck in the stage of denial, until he was snapped out of it by Dutch. When he was, it made accepting it so much worse. He didn’t want Pinkamena going through that; he didn’t want anyone going through that. He was going to help her accept it, no matter how much it might hurt her.

“Why would the elements choose you to be the Element of Laughter, when the true you only causes evil and dark laughter?”

Pinkamena said nothing, and just took another drink of bourbon from her glass. She had no retort for that. Usually, she would, but her emotions were affecting her thought process. Never once in her life has she felt anything like this, she’s never had a connection with another being before. She’s never cared for anyone but herself, and certainly never enough to grieve.

“Besides, who said she had to be loyal to a specific pony? While it’s twisted and different, her loyalty to The Factory is true. Likewise for your laughter, while it’s dark and sadistic, it’s still laughter. While both of you were much darker than most knew about, your elements were true.”

Pinkamena sat there, not knowing what to say or think. She was trying her hardest to think of any reason why this was all a lie, and Rainbow couldn’t have had anything to do with The Factory. But, it all lines up. What she said when Pinkamena was torturing her, the unusual disappearances of the foals who failed the flying test, Rainbow always being so tired and saying she was busy with work when she was already done kicking and moving around clouds, it all made sense.

She wanted to scream and cry, she wanted to beat someone again, but she couldn’t. She had to keep face; she couldn’t let anyone know how she felt. She was a mass murdering serial killer; she wasn’t supposed to be able to feel emotions like this.

“So, why?”

Pinkamena slammed her hoof against the counter, getting a look of confusion from Mack.

“Why do I feel like this? I’ve killed hundreds of ponies who I pretended to be friends with, in much more gruesome ways. I’ve killed mothers and children, tortured in ways that put them through unimaginable pain, destroyed lives! So then why do I grieve for one pony who was on my web of lies? Who I pretended to be friends with, just to kill her? Who was lying to me just as much as I was lying to her? Why do I grieve for such a pony?”

Pinkamena was on the verge of crying, dealing with emotions that hurt her inside. Mack looked down at her, with a face of understanding at what she was feeling.

“Maybe, somewhere along the line, it was more than just an act. Maybe, while you were pretending to like her, you saw her qualities. You saw the good parts of her, and liking her was no longer an act. Through your adventures with her, you slowly learned to genuinely like this pony. And while you may never learn how she felt, and know you know she was also acting, she was still your friend.”

Pinkamena was about to reply but noticed the customers around her were beginning to wake up. Mack saw this and decided to start cleaning up the bar to make it seem like nothing happened. While Mack was doing that, Pinkamena threw some bits on the counter and began to walk out, having things to do and places to be. While she was opening the door, she stopped midway, having one last thing to say.

“Well, I better get out of your hair then. I’m covered in dirt and blood, got an unconscious pony to drag home and interrogate, and I haven’t slept all night, so I'm going to be busy and tired. But, thanks for the talk. It… helped.”

Pinkamena left, neither showing or voicing whatever emotions she was feeling. While Mack had a huge grin on his face, happy, he’d done his job.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It took a lot of effort and patience, but Pinkamena had successfully gotten both the bodies and the pony back to her basement. It was tough since they each weighed a lot, but with the help of a few stallions who she bribed with sex, and the wrapping of the bodies to where they looked like baggage, she got them back to Ponyville. Though, she wasn’t particularly in the mood for a threesome, so she just knocked them out and left them at the train station.

Though with the stallions knocked out, she had to drag the ‘luggage’ through the town. But it was very early when she got back, meaning almost no one was awake, so she got them to the basement with no real trouble. By the time she did, the cakes had begun to wake up, meaning her shift was going to start soon. Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap up the unconscious one to where he wouldn’t get loose when he woke up, and the bodies in the in-progress projects room.

Nothing exhilarating had happened during her shift, the most interesting thing was Fluttershy and Applejack coming to ask if she knew where Rainbow was, she said no, of course. And since she had so much trust in the others, they believed her. Then, after having a short conversation with them, they left to look for Rainbow.

The strange thing was, she had this feeling she was being watched. She couldn’t pinpoint who or where from, but she could feel eyes on her. She didn’t know if someone was suspicious of her, or it was more ponies sent to kill her, but she knew someone was watching her. Though, when she was off her shift, she made sure to lose whoever they were. She went into The Everfree, making sure to get into the most dangerous parts possible, and used her Pinkie sense to get through.

She went as deep as she could until she felt she was no longer being watched. Then, she guided herself back home, making sure not to use the same path, as there was a chance she would run into whoever was following her. When she got back, she was exhausted and would have loved to go to sleep. But she had parties to host and an alibi to make for last night, and after all of that it’ll probably be night, and she still had to interrogate her attacker and bake his friends.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I’m so tired!”

Pinkamena had just gotten done with her fifth party, and she felt like she was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. Usually, she was just tired, as she had an abnormal amount of energy. But, with all her recent physical and emotional experiences, she felt she could sleep for days, and she really wanted to. But, she had some questions, and her friend in the basement had the answers.

Luckily though, there was nothing she could do until the cakes were asleep. Not that they’d hear them, the room was silent. But there was always the slight chance one of them could come down at the wrong time; then they would see her secret basement, and then she’d have to kill them. She would prefer if that didn’t happen, mostly because it would be annoying to deal with, and there was really no use for foals. They’re too small to make cupcakes, and their bones are too small to be used in any creations, that’s why her limit is children because they're neutral on the whole thing.

Usually, Pinkamena would sit in her room thinking until Gummy gave her the news that they were asleep. But, being as tired as she is, decided to sleep instead. Sadly for her, Gummy came back almost immediately, meaning they were already asleep.

“Well, isn’t that bucking perfect.”

Pinkamena got back up, somehow feeling more tired than she was before. She lazily shuffled down to the kitchen, pressing the button and going into her basement. Welcoming her, was the familiar stench of death and decay that always made her happy, sadly, she was too tired to enjoy it really.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Pinkamena genuinely smiled for the first time today, finally glad she has something exciting to do. It would seem her plaything was awake and eager.

“Oh no, it’s just little old me, Pinkamena.”

He seemed to flinch at that but didn’t show any signs of fear. He simply just sat there, unmoving, strapped to the table, giving Pinkamena a strange sense of….guilt. But, she blocked it out with the feeling of bloodlust and excitement.

“So, where are the guys that were with me?”

He said, with nothing but curiosity in his voice. Which intrigued her, almost everyone she brought in here either asked what she was going to do to them or to let them go. And when they do, their voice is usually full of fear, or at least they stutter. So when she said nothing and walked in front of him, she had a slight look of annoyance on her face, she enjoys the fear. After all, emotional and mental pain is much worse than anything you can do physically, wounds heal, trauma doesn’t, she would know.

“Well, after I got their bodies back here, I put them in there.”

She pointed towards a door in the back, which he looked towards and shrugged. He looked back at her, and just sat there, waiting to die. While she stared at him, expecting some kind of response at the realization of his friend’s death, like screaming or insults. But no, he just sat there, with his eyes closed in thought. While she was thinking of why he wasn’t scared, she realized something was missing.

“Wait here; I have to go get something. While I’m gone, look around the room and tell me what you think! And remember, don’t move!”

She walked away with a smile, while he hadn’t moved an inch. She liked to act happy around her victims occasionally, because a serial killer who acts happy and joyful, is much more terrifying than the stereotypical one. While he just shrugged and looked around the room, not really interested in the décor, but not really having anything better to do.

“I’m back!”

After a few minutes of looking around the room, Pinkamena came back, with her signature outfit.

“So? What do you think?”

She was wearing what could only be identified as a serial killer’s Halloween costume. It had wings on both sides of it, three left and three on the right, making six. While around her neck was a necklace, but instead of jewelry, it was horns. But what really made the costume was around her body, it looked like she was wearing a very comfortable rug, with patches of cutie marks covering it. This made him raise his eyebrows, which wasn’t the reaction she was expecting, putting an annoyed look on her face.

“Well, for starters, it’s messy and unorganized, the wings look like they're barely stitched on, the horns have no pattern or colors that go well together in any order, and the cutie marks look like they were stitched together by an old mare, who’s blind. Overall, it looks like the kind of thing you’d put on the front of a refrigerator.”

Pinkamena had a look of anger on her face, while he just had a smug look on his. Never once, in all of her years of killing, has anyone insulted her or her work while they’ve been in her basement. She was about to kill him right then and there, but, she needed answers, and the dead don’t talk.

“Well, I appreciate the criticism, but you’re going to die. So, your opinion doesn’t really matter. But, I’d still like to know what you think of the room!”

Before answering, he looked around the room, paying attention to every detail. The life is a party sign, the skulls around the room with party hats, the intestines hanging from the ceiling like streamers, and the variety of torture tools spread throughout the room; it was very…creative.

“I like your imagination, what you did with the streamers and the skulls, and especially all the mounted heads. But, I think you have too much of one color. Red is a nice color, but there’s too much of it. Maybe add more colors that go with red? Like blue or yellow, or even black.”

Pinkamena felt proud, but also confused. At first, she thought he was just trying to insult her. But then he complimented her room and even advised against it.

“I’ll…think about it, but, let’s move on. Usually, I would use a few scare tactics and cut right into you. But, since you’re one of the first people who had the balls to attack me, you’re going to be treated quite differently. But first,”

Pinkamena walked up to him, the sound of her hoofs and the horns clanking filled the room. Then, without warning, she ripped off what he was wearing. He tried to stop her, but he was completely strapped down to the table. She was tearing into him like a foal into a wrapped present, ripping apart the fabric and pieces, making them go all over the room.

It took a few minutes to get it completely off, since the suit was very well made, and was intended not to come off unless the owner willingly took it off, which is why she was getting it off so aggressively. When she first tried to get them off the bodies, she couldn’t. There was no zipper or anything that showed how to get it off; she tried for nearly an hour before she gave up, not wanting to damage the bodies. She decided just to add how to open the suits to her lists of questions when she interrogates him, but that frustration was still very much there.

She wanted just to burn the suits and never look at them again, but, she needed them. No matter how much she might hate them, they worked. They completely concealed your body and face, and seemed extremely stretchable, which meant they were good to wear. She wanted one, the color pink stands out, and leaves her with a higher chance of being caught. But if she wore this, then even if she’s seen dragging a pony back to her basement, they’d never know it was her.

“There…done.”

Pinkamena was out of breath; those suits really were made well. But, it took a lot of ripping and tearing, she got it off in one piece, mostly. There were a few holes or spots that were obviously ripped, but it was still wearable. But now, she was able to see the pony underneath, and she much preferred that.

He was a stallion, and as she assumed, a Pegasus. He was well built, with decent sized muscles and a well-toned body, but he seemed... off. While his body seemed healthy, he was pale and had rings under his eyes, but who was Pinkamena to talk about health? His coat was a light blue, while his mane a dark blue. His eyes were a greenish yellow, and his cutie mark seemed to be a cloud raining. He seemed to be apart of The Weather Team, or at least was.

After she examined him, which he either didn’t pay attention to or didn’t care, as he seemed to be paying more attention to the floor than her, she went to examine the suit. It was the same color black on the inside as it was outside, and the mask wasn’t the second part, it was attached to the inside of the face part of the costume. She then began to look around the inside of it, looking for anything that might hint how it’s taken off. She paid attention to every detail, any pattern of color, any wrinkles that signaled how it was put on, anything.

But this thing was made both well and kept clean, Rarity herself couldn’t make something like this. But then, it was slight, but she noticed something. While paying attention to the color pattern, she saw there was a part to the left that was a slightly darker shade of black then the rest. And now that she paid more attention to it, the color seemed to go down in a line, stopping when it hit the point where the stomach should be. Then she turned it around and put her hoof at the bottom and began to follow it up when her hoof reached the top; she found something that made her smile out of satisfaction. It was a zipper.

It seemed whoever designed this had put a zipper on it, but thought it would be obvious and painted it black. But either the color of black was slightly different, or it was faded from age, she found it. But, she wasn’t done yet, there was still more. She may have found out how to put it on and off, but there was still one thing she needed to know, who manufactured it.

She turned it back around and looked through it, the same way she had before. Usually, no matter how secret they are, all suits and costumes have some kind of mark to show who made it. The main reason for this, even if it belongs to a secret organization, was to make sure their enemies didn’t get it. For example: if the enemy were to kill an employee, steal their suit and use it for their own, then if the one who stole it was to be killed, and the organization were feared, it would be returned to them. But Pinkamena doesn’t fear anyone, so that’s not a problem for her.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a small white tag in the back of it. It was small and hard to read, but it was there. When she read it the first time, she couldn’t believe it, so she reread it, out loud.

“‘Property of The Cloudsdale Rainbow Factory.’ “

The room was silent for a few moments, as Pinkamena was trying to process what she just read, and the stallion strapped to the table, smiling as he knew she was slowly filling with fear. Then, the unexpected happened, she began to laugh, loudly. This confused him; this was not the response he was expecting. Then, she turned towards him, dropping the costume she was holding in her hooves, with a huge smile on her face.

“That’s who sent you? The Rainbow Factory? Oh, that’s hilarious. What, are you guys flank hurt that I killed your leader? Well, don’t worry, you’ll be meeting her and your friends very soon.”

She was still snickering, but her threat was severe. Now, instead of being confused, he was angry. For years, the mere name of The Factory put fear in any lowlife that was unfortunate enough to hear it. But this mare, not only was she not afraid, but she was making fun of them!

Did she not understand that she’d pissed off quite literally the biggest organization in Equestria? That they will relentlessly send squads after her until she’s dead? That they outnumber her one thousand to one? That she is by herself and has no chance of beating them? If she does, and she simply doesn’t care, this mare was more insane then they were told.

“Why aren’t you scared? You’re going to be tortured far more than anything you’ve done! Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?”

Her smile simply just stretched further, showing just how truly insane she was. She put her hooves on both sides of his head, and looked deep into his eyes, with a huge smile stretched across her face. And for the first time in his life, after he lost his sanity in The Factory, after all the ponies he killed, he felt true fear.

“Self-preservation? Do you think after all things I’ve done and planned to do, I give two shits whether I live or die? Because I don’t, I’ve killed so many at this point, that if you somehow broke free and killed me right now, I’d die happy. You see, the main difference between you and me, and the rest of your Pegasi friends, is I don’t care! You guys have a sense of pride and honor; you’re doing this because you want to help Equestria, even if it costs you your life. But for me, I’m very different. I’m not doing this because I have some kind of noble ulterior motive, or because I’m being told by someone it’s for the greater good. I’m doing this because I want to!

I love the thrill of cutting into flesh, and hearing the screams and begging of my victims! I love using every part of their body, their meat and organs for food, their bones for decorations, I love all of it! But most of all, what I love the most, is the rush of battle! So go ahead, send as many of your friends as you want. I may die, but I’ll die happy knowing I’ve taken as many as you as with me as possible!”

If possible, her eyes and smile got wider, looking the happiest she’s ever been. While the fear in him was rising, making him want to look away, but he couldn’t. All he could do was look in her eyes, her insane eyes. They reminded him of his leader, and he smiled. This was nothing, compared to what’s done to him daily at The Factory, this was nothing. Then, he looked back at her, with a huge smile. Which made her smile falter, but, she ignored it.

“Anyway, enough about that. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Then she walked towards a tray, grabbing a scalpel. Deciding it would be a pain to walk back and forth, she brought the tray back with her. She put it on the table near them, not too far from her, but not too close to him. She went to the left of him and put her scalpel right in front of his cutie mark.

“You wanna know something cool? This is the same scalpel I used on Rainbow Dash. I used it on five ponies before her. Usually, I would get a new one after six. But, I have some sense of sentimentality. So I’m going to use this one for as long as I can, polishing it and making sure it’s always sharp.”

Then, without warning, she stabbed into the spot beside his cutie mark. But strangely, he didn’t seem to notice. He simply just stared at a spot on the wall, not paying any attention to her. This made her hesitate; this has never happened before. But, she continued, cutting a very straight circle around his cutie mark. Until it was all the way around his cutie mark, which easily came off of his flank. But there was yet to be a reaction, and this deeply confused her.

She then moved around to the other side and did the same to his other cutie mark. But this time, she did it much rougher and harder, hoping to get a reaction out of him. But he didn’t even flinch, but he did move his head toward her. He looked at her with a look she had never seen before, especially in her basement. He had a look of…boredom.

“You think that hurts? Do you really think pain like that is enough to make me scream? Do you have any idea the kind of pain I go through every single day? If you did, then you would know pain like this is nothing compared to it.”

She said nothing and just looked at him. She was amazed, never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that any organization could discipline and train their soldiers to such an extent, it made her even more excited. She was extremely eager to test out just what the limit of their endurance was, so eager in fact, she nearly messed up on the cutie mark. But, she noticed what she was doing, and slowed down.

After putting the cutie marks on the table, she walked in front of him. Usually, she would be much more sadistic and bloodthirsty, but she had to be serious. She had questions to ask, and if she got carried away and killed him, she wouldn’t get her answers.

“Now, I’m not going to ask your name, because there’s both no point, and you probably wouldn’t tell me. So, I’ll start with a simple question, who’s your current leader with Dash dead?”

He looked at her with angry eyes, and spit at her. But, she expected this and wiped it off with a napkin she had on the table.

“Buck you!”

But, she simply smiled. Glad she now had a reason to test out her new torture method. She moved over to her tray, which he couldn’t see from where he was. She picked something up, and walked back towards him, holding whatever it was she got behind her back.

“Tada! What do you think I’m gonna do with this?”

She pulled out a cheese grater from behind her back, which looked fairly new. It was silver and shiny and looked like it was recently bought. He raised his eyebrows, not having even the slightest idea what she planned on doing with it.

“Shove it up my ass?”

“Close!”

She walked in front of him, with a smile on her face and the cheese grater in her hand. Then, without warning, she grabbed between his legs, getting a grip on his penis, making him whimper.

“Ooh! You’re big, shame you’re never going to use it.”

He didn’t know how to react; this mare was completely unpredictable. She wasn’t gripping very hard, but she could have if she really wanted to. She moved it up, holding it vertically. He would have gotten an erection, but he was too scared, as he had no idea what she planned to do.

“Now, I’m only going to be doing this for five seconds, as I don’t want you to bleed out just yet. And I won’t be doing it very hard since I can’t start off like that, but, it’s made out of sponge, so there’s only so much I can do. I suggest you prepare yourself, nothing they did to you is gonna prepare yourself for this.”

She said with a huge smile, giving him a few seconds. Then he realized exactly what it was she was going to do and was filled with more fear than any of her victims before had been.

“No! wait! Please I’ll AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Before he could get out his plea, Pinkamena had already begun. She had quickly pushed the cheese grater against his stallion hood. She was still holding it vertical, so every part but the balls was getting pushed against it. Like she had said, she wasn’t pushing very hard. But considering how sharp a cheese grater is, and how soft something mostly made out of sponge is, it was tearing it apart.

For those five seconds, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was feeling more pain than he ever thought possible. He could feel the cheese grater scraping against his dick, cutting everything it touched. And every single second she was destroying his sex organ, she had a huge smile on her face. Even after the five seconds were up, and she had pulled away the grater, the pain didn’t leave. His penis looked like it had gone through a broken wood chipper, cuts and holes everywhere on it. If by somehow he got out of here, he would never have sex again.

“I’ll give you a little something to help dull the pain and stop you bleeding out as fast, but it only works for a few minutes. Not because I’m giving you mercy, believe me, I’d love to sit here and watch you suffer. But too much pain is going to distract you, and you probably won’t be able to answer me.

Despite her serious tone, she had a huge smile on her face. She was thrilled her new method was more effective than she could have expected it would be, and probably more painful. Sadly, this would only work on stallions. For obvious reasons, this torture method wouldn’t work on mares. She’ll have to create a special one for them, and she was VERY creative.

As she promised, she put the now blood covered grater on the table, and went to get a syringe. While he sat there, groaning in pain. He wanted to scream and cry with all the pain he’s feeling, but he couldn’t. If he did, then she’d be happy, and he couldn’t give that to her. He did everything he could stop himself from screaming, as blood pooled under him and his body entered shock.

After putting the syringe in a small bottle, she brought it back with her when she started walking back. As soon as she got back to him, she stabbed the syringe as hard as she could into his right arm. Which hurt and drew blood, but he was too focused on the pain in between his legs to pay attention to anything else.

Then, after injecting the syringe into him, she sat down in one of the chairs beside the table. Most likely, it was one of those drugs that took time to spread through the body. So she sat on the table, with a bored face and playing with one of the skulls. The only sound was the dripping of the blood on the floor below him, making a small puddle with spots of blood around it right below him.

“So, the drug take effect yet?”

For a few seconds he said nothing, then, without looking up, he answered quietly.

“No, wait a few more minutes.”

Then she sighed, but this wasn’t a sigh of frustration or anything, but one of…disappointment. She walked in front of him, and just looked at him with eyes full of expectancy. He noticed this, but still didn’t say anything, her eyes were now full of anger.

She suddenly hit him in the face, no change in her facial expression. The punch caused a tooth to come out of his mouth, along with some blood. She liked this, being aggressive. She would be way more sadistic and aggressive, and not so reluctant. But, she couldn't. As much as she wanted to, she had to hold herself back. She had to act somewhat nice, but show she was still very much willing to hurt him. It was a good cop bad cop act, but by herself.

“Wh-what the buck!?”

He didn’t really pay much attention to the pain, more focused on the sudden attack. She looked back at him, with annoyance riddled on her face.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I have been doing this for years, do you really think I wouldn’t know when the drug I have injected into hundreds of ponies would take effect?”

He was confused for a few seconds, until he realized what she meant. He shouldn’t have tried to lie to her when he was strapped to the table, but she was right, pain does change how you think.

“Then why would you ask me if you already knew?”

“Because I wanted to know if you would lie if you got the chance, it was a test. And, obviously, you failed. So, to show you what would happen if I caught you in a lie, I hit you. But, since that was a warning, I didn’t hit very hard, though I very much could have. There was a bonus though, you know the thing with poker, where they have a sign, called a tale when they have a bad hand? Well, this also accounts for liars. Unless a liar practices avoiding showing any signs, their body will react in some way to a lie. Luckily, you haven’t. You have a tale, and I now know what it is. So, I’ll be able to tell when you’re lying, and when you’re not.”

His eyes widened in shock, not even knowing he had a tale. But, he was also curious.

“What is it?”

She didn’t respond, simply just walked up to him and looked into his eyes, thinking what to ask first.

“If I told you, you’d just try to cover it up. But, enough with the small talk, let’s start with the questions, shall we? Not counting that one, of course.”

She looked deep into his eyes, and he looked into hers, not being able to look away. There was something…alluring about them, something in them that just made you unable to look away, but terrified you at the same time. The feeling he was getting was familiar, it felt like he was looking back into the eyes of his old boss, and that scared him.

“First question, since dear old Dash is dead, who’s in charge now?”

He hesitated, feeling anger rise in him from the lack of respect in her voice. But he pushed it back, knowing it would do nothing good.

“Well, currently, we don’t really have one. The higher ups still keep things quiet, and we employees still do our job. But, if you mean who’s giving out orders and making sure everything is organized, I would have to say Dr. Atmosphere.”

Pinkamena didn’t say anything, as she wanted to keep all her thoughts in her brain. Dr. Atmosphere, Grutch, and Bramble were talking about him before. Whoever he was, he seemed to be quite important if he’s a replacement for Rainbow Dash. She’d have to gather some information on him when she gets the chance, if she was going to fight against him, she needed to know him.

“Higher-ups? What do they do? Can you give me names?”

Again, he hesitated, hating how carefree her attitude was.

“No, I can’t. No one knows who they are. They’re randomly chosen by Rainbow Dash, or I guess Atmosphere is choosing them now. They usually choose the smartest among each generation and erase any trace of their existence. Name, family, friends, anyone outside of The Factory who knew them is killed. Anypony inside The Factory has a unicorn dissect their brain, and removes any memory relating to them.”

She didn’t say anything, but her body language was giving away her frustration. She was obviously sick of dealing with all the secrecy and lack of real answers. Sure, she’s got a name, but who’s to say that’s his real name? It’s not hard to create a false name, and there’s plenty of reason to in this kind of life.

“I would ask why you’re so easily giving away answers, but then I realize just what your situation is. Okay, next question. Outside of The Factory, who knows what really goes on there?"

He hesitated again, but this time for a different reason. He had to think on this; all employees are given basic information, the rest is gathered or rumors. There were plenty of things they didn’t fully know about; this was one of them.

“That’s…a tough one. I’m sure you’re aware Princess Celestia knows, but as for the other princesses, that’s unknown. We don’t have the slightest idea if she’s told others, as it’s not exactly something you just bring up in a situation. And, obviously, Rainbow Dash knew. Other than that, no. Well, except for the Exceptions.”

This made her curious, as she had thought Rainbow Dash was the only exception.

“Exceptions? What do you mean? Were there others who are allowed to leave due to special circumstances temporarily?”

He flinched, not out of fear, but out of rage for them.

“No, these ones don’t get to have the pleasure of working in The Factory! Those pussies were too scared to dirty their bucking hooves! So, somepony else volunteered in their place, so they didn’t have too, while the rest of us are working our asses off for Equestria! I wish I knew their names, so that I could kill them myself!”

He spoke with anger and spite, but frustrated he didn’t have anything specific to put it on. Pinkamena didn’t really respond, other than a slight movement at the spit coming to her direction from his screaming. She ignored his little outburst, not really caring about his emotional problems, and asked the next question.

“Anyway, moving on. Next question, in the last ten years, how many foals have been killed?”

“Failures! They’re failures! They’re not good enough to even be considered beings!”

He screamed once again, with just as much, maybe more anger and spite as last time.

“Ok, how many failures have been killed in the last ten years?”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and neither did she. She understood this would take some time to get down to an exact number, or at least an estimate. Doing what she does as long as she has, she’s grown to be patient. Then, after three minutes, he finally spoke.

“About twenty are killed in a month, twenty times twelve is two hundred and forty. Multiply that by ten, and that’s twenty-four hundred.”

He said, emotionlessly, as if he was doing a simple math equation. Pinkamena said nothing, simply astonished at the sheer numbers. Pinkamena had been doing this for a long time and been doing it in very creative ways. And in all that time, she hadn’t come even close to that number, she counts. But, she pushed her feelings aside, she still had more questions to ask.

“How many of those were under Rainbow’s watch?”

He didn’t say anything, as he again had to think. But Pinkamena’s patience had been running out; she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself back. Luckily, he answered much quicker this time.

“Seventy-two percent.”

He responded just as emotionless as last time, not a single care that this was lives he was talking about. Pinkamena said nothing, didn’t need to ask how much that was. She was a smart pony; she could do simple math. Seventeen hundred and twenty-eight, Rainbow Dash had been responsible for seventeen hundred and twenty-eight lives. If Scootaloo knew, she would consider her the opposite of a hero.

Pinkamena felt the familiar feeling of betrayal and rage. She was somewhere in-between taking her rage out on the stallion in front of her, and breaking down right then and there, and she hated it! She hated these emotions she had to deal with! She just wanted them to stop! But, there was too much at stake. She couldn’t let her emotions overcome her, not here, not now. She had to keep herself preoccupied; she had to ask the next question.

“Where is-“

Before she could get her answers out, a clock on the other side of the room rang, startling them both. Pinkamena had an internal clock of sorts, with her sleeping pattern the way it is, she had to take certain…countermeasures. So, unconsciously, she counted every hour of sleep she would need to replenish the energy she spent throughout the day. She counts in other factors too, like lack of sleep or having too much energy. So, if she is busy with something, like business or pleasure. She sets the clock to the time she needs to sleep, so she can have enough energy to make it through tomorrow.

Occasionally, she’d get caught up in whatever it was she was doing, and forget it was there. While Pinkamena was a smart pony, she was also a forgetful one; her memory wasn’t always the best. She then turned away from him, picked up the cheese grater, and walked towards the sink in the room, leaving him confused.

“What was that? What? Lost your nerve?”

Pinkamena ignored him, and simply tossed the cheese grater into the sink, planning on cleaning it tomorrow. Then she began to walk behind him, seeming to be looking for something.

“That,”

She said, there was a pause in her voice as she seemed to find what she was looking for.

“was the sign that I don’t have time to play with you anymore.”

She appeared again in front of him, with a look of disappointment and boredom on her face. Disappointment because she couldn’t get the answers she wanted, and boredom because there wasn’t really anything exciting to look forward to for the rest of the night. But it wasn’t her face he was focused on, it was what was in her hooves.

It was a gun, a small, silver pistol, with the bottom part of it being black. It had a black strap attached to the bottom, which led back to a black cloth circle, which was around Pinkamena’s hoof. That circle was attached to a small line, similar to that of a trip wire. This line was wrapped around the trigger several times but was barely noticeable.

He had never seen a gun before, as neither he nor anypony at The Factory needed one. But, being as connected to The Underground as they are, of course, heard of them. The strap that was attached to the gun, which was named a Gun Ring, was used to help Pegasi and Earth ponies shoot guns. He knew that they were fast and effective, and a pistol may be the least dangerous, could kill anything just the same.

But strangely, he felt happy. While he had experienced pain, that had been dulled. Now, he was going to be killed with a gun, no pain, no suffering. Though he felt happy, he didn’t smile. That might have changed her mind, and though he had been through immense pain at The Factory, he had a feeling she would make his last moments far more agonizing.

He simply watched as she raised the gun up to his head, meeting her eyes as that signature sadistic smile came on her face. Then, as he closed his eyes, preparing for the shot he felt the gun move slightly away from his forehead, but he still felt it’s presence.

“Why aren’t you begging? I’m about to kill you and bake you and your friends into pastries, shouldn’t you be mad or afraid. Why aren’t you insulting and threatening me, or begging me to spare you?”

For a short while, that felt much longer than it was, he just stared at her, looking into her eyes. Then he smiled as if he was talking to an old friend. And for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether she broke him, or if he was already broken and just now realized it.

“Because I know ponies like you. You enjoy seeing others suffer and beg for mercy; you enjoy inflicting both physical and mental pain. You’re an insane pony with no sense of morality or empathy. So, I won’t give you the pleasure of seeing me beg or be angry at you; you’re not worth that kind of effort. Truly though, it’s a shame that you and my old boss didn’t have a true showdown. A battle between a psychotic sadist like you, and an insane monster like her, would have been…interesting to see.”

He said nothing else as he looked into her eyes, with a huge, smug smile on his face. And for once, in a situation like this, Pinkamena didn’t. She simply had a look of annoyance on hers, she was sick of everyone wanting to see them fight, but she was also slightly interested how it would have gone down if both were on equal ground.

“You know, I’ve heard that a lot lately. And as sick of it, as I am, I too would like to have seen how that would have gone down. But, I murdered her, no, I destroyed her. Your pathetic leader cried on the table you’re strapped to, as I tortured, ripped her apart and open, and broke her, physically and mentally. So, I win, you lose.”

His face contorted to that of rage, his face going red and eyes bulging out of anger. But before he had a chance to have another outburst, she shot him between the eyes. His body falling flat on the table, no longer moving. Pinkamena then sat the gun on the table and walked upstairs. She would have begun to cut straight into them and begin baking, but she was on a tight schedule. His friends were still in the cooler she had put them in, so they’d be fine. He was recently killed so that he won’t be decomposing anytime soon.

The second she got into her room, she let her body fall onto the bed. As soon as her body touched the bed, all the adrenaline, and bloodlust that was keeping her going through the day vanished. She felt exhausted; she probably couldn’t get up if she wanted to. She didn’t even bother to turn over and sleep properly, she just lied there, with her straight hair spread around the bed.

She would need all the sleep she could get, for tomorrow, she would understand exactly what she was up against, the hard way.