Red Rum Cake #5

>two and a half weeks later, you’re now outside the castle of Canterlot, hiding in a fashion of silence within the hedges of the royal garden

>ever since the time you drew Prince Blueblood’s name, you’ve spent days gathering information on him, paying plenty of time hiding out in the capital to gather information and witness him at work

>he’s not a shy one, willingly going about to do his obscene business in broad daylight

>now that you’ve firmed up your resolution, you had dedicated a plan for entering the Canterlot castle for the past week

>and it’s going to be hell with Pinkie Pie joining you

>it’s fairly dark out, and the both of you are in your usual gear, your arsenal and Pinkie with a small rucksack

>you were considering using skin suits, not that you wouldn’t be given away as the only human, nor Pinkie with her flat hair sticking out

Alright, Pinkie; Prince Blueblood is on the third floor from the side entry of the garden here. The first and ultimate rule is: don’t be seen as yourself, by all costs. If someone does see you, kill them.

Pinkie: “Hehe, you see me, Anon~!”

Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to wait a good while if you still want to kill me. Try to leave everyone alive; the less trail of blood we leave behind, the harder it is to pinpoint us.

>she nods as you pull out an old, wooden mask, twisted and carved

>the both of you are admiring it when Pinkie decides to ask:

>Pinkie: “Anon, what is that? I don’t think that would hide your face very well.”

I haven’t gotten to use it before, but it’s one of the three “special” tools I keep for intense situations. The obelisk which can cancel out magic,

>you pat a side pocket on Pinkie

And this mask has a special property. It took the longest persuasion of a now dead pony to give it up; it was an artifact experimented on with the essences of some races called the “Changelings” or whatnot.

>Pinkie: “Oh… those things. Pathetic shapeshifters.”

Yeah, well, the Mask of Shadows gives me a similar power for about five minutes at a time, meaning I can look like any possible thing; however, it for some reason won’t change my eye color, and so it’s possible for me to give myself away.

>you put the mask back in the sack, prepared to use it later on, and you peak around the hedge

>there are two guards stationed at the entrance, one on each pillar; oh fucking joy

Alright, Pinkie. When I said avoid killing anyone… I lied. Stay hidden, and take out the other guard when I do.

>Pinkie: “Hehe, okie~!<3”

>with that, you pick yourself up and begin walking towards the lit entryway to the castle like you own the place

-----

>it was a little under a minute when one of the guards spotted you casually rambling up

>he stares for a moment to make sure he isn’t seeing a mirage before he calls out

>Guard1: “Uh, halt. It’s late at night, what business do you have here, and why are you arriving from this area of the castle?”

>you point to the badge on your overcoat, and they jump to attention

>it was interesting enough for them to witness seeing a human for the first time, let alone yourself being an agent of the crown

I’m here with important information that must be personally delivered immediately. It concerns the true identities of the killer located in the Ponyville area.

>they get excited at this, shuffling to let you through

>Guard2: “If you continue past the stairway, there is a main foyer that has a guide stationed there; she should be able to take you to either of the Princesses.”

Alright, thank you.

>they stand at attention as you pass them, and not even half a foot beyond them did you whip out a dagger and jam it through the back of the left sentry’s neck, cutting through the spinal cord and throat in one vicious stabbing

>the first guard silently collapses as the second turns to see the horror

Guess what? It looks like you’re finding out before the princess does, lucky you.

>he goes to inhale, his sudden eruption of fear preparing him to scream

>before he could even try, a butcher knife is halfway through severing his own head off, as Pinkie appears from behind the pillar with the blade in her hooves

>don’t ask how, you don’t know

>the guard is still alive, barely gasping as his body enters shock on the ground

>Pinkie: “For a guard, you sure don’t know how to protect yourself!”

>with the crude joke laid down, she finishes the beheading with one firm swing, blood splattering everywhere

>she smiles at the sensation of murder, lightly grinding the blade into a spinal column

>Pinkie: “That was… satisfying.”

I bet it was, but they were innocent people doing their job. While you may have no problem with killing them in cold blood… I will repent for my sins later on.

>she frowns at you for your easily naïve morals, and you point at the guard you took out

Decapitate this guy too, right where I put my knife in. It’ll look suspicious if there’s two different types of weapons used here.

>she happily nods and gets to work, as you pull out the blade and wipe it on the guard’s mane

>if Twilight is smart enough, she can interpretate this as a clue

-----

>after a few seconds of wrapping up the guards’ fate, you leave them plainly in sight as you and Pinkie slip into the gilded doorway into the southwest wing of Canterlot castle

>soon you’re both in the quiet and well lit halls of Equestria’s royalty

>the two of you wildly slip behind the pillars, quietly waiting for the guards to make their rounds

>you know that you have minutes before the guards are discovered, and soon you’re silently sprinting up the stairs, Pinkie Pie hopping in tow

>as you make it to the top, you immediately duck as you spot guards chatting as they stroll in your general direction

>with only seconds before they discover you, you pull Pinkie close and pull out something from her pack

>a simple rock, but a useful tool nonetheless

>in a high and wide arc, you lob it into the air across the hall, and it lands right into a jar resting on a majestic pedestal

>you and Pinkie scuttle down and out of view down the stairway as the pot tips

>the guards, distracted by some menial topic of conversation, hear the jar break from across the room

>as they shuffle past the stairs to witness the scene, you pick up Pinkie and inaudibly make your way across the hall, hiding behind a pillar as another pair of guards comes to investigate the noise

>Guard#3: “What’s going on, here?”

>Guard#2: “We were making our rounds, when we heard this vase fall!”

>Guard#4: “Likely story, you! I bet he’s making an excuse, knowing full well that he’s popular for knocking things over!”

>apparently the night shift are a bit more edgy than the normally stoic guards you’re used to, and you manage to get to the next staircase with little issue, tossing Pinkie down as she quietly cheers

>however, you’re quick to suppress the lone and surprised sentinel as he makes his way around the corner, a knife meeting his throat before he could even open his mouth

>he pounds at your chest in vain, his eyes begging for mercy

>dragging him up a couple stairs, Pinkie executes him out of his misery, and you toss him over the edge, his body sailing down to the ground floor below

>this second loud crash catches everyone’s attention as you stay low to the stairs and pray no guards come down

>as you hear the sentries shuffle down, you make it to the third floor, and Pinkie hops on your shoulder once the both of you don’t see any

>Pinkie: “*whispers* This is kind of fun! I love sneaking around and killing stuff!”

Yeah, well, usually I’m not breaking into the royal palace of the kingdom and trying to kidnap royalty. I’m ready to piss myself.

>she goes to giggle but you cover her mouth, motioning for her to be quiet

>you peer around the final corner into the hallway, only to be met by the most ridiculous sight

The hell is this bullshit…

>there are exactly two dozen guards in front of Prince Blueblood’s door to his personal chamber

>you knew he was extremely vain and egotistical, but the levels he went as to make sure no one bothers him is beyond any sound reason

>you know you couldn’t kill that many guards, let alone quickly enough to not give yourself away

>you lean back, listening to the commotion going on two floors below

>you reach into Pinkie’s pack one last time and pull out of the Mask of Shadows and the obelisk, tucking the latter inside your undercoat

Pinkie, stay quiet and stay here. If I don’t come out within three minutes, or if I undergo some sort of unfortunate event, get the hell out of here. Follow the plan I told you before, and inherit everyone I own.

>she stifles a snicker at your serious tone and rubs her nose against your cheek

>you don’t know how to respond to such an odd gesture, and you try your best to sheepishly smile

>Pinkie: “Don’t talk like that, silly goose. Just hurry up, I hate knowing there’s cake home and I’m not there to eat it…”

Silly Pinkie, always thinking about cake and murder.

>Pinkie: “Don’t forget you!”

>you give a nod as you slip on the mask, your mind focusing on the pony you have in mind

>soon a black aura swarms you, and your head twists into agony as darkness voids your sight

>you feel your cloths melting away, your arms writhing to join the floor with your legs

>you realize the sensation of losing your fingers, replaced by gold plated hooves

>your forehead is in agony as a horny protrudes from it

>your back and sides cringe as two wings are unleashed

>you almost pass out from the pain of such a dramatic change

-----

>Pinkie is bewildered with her suddenly different company, and you quickly adjust to the change as your four hooves lead you around the corner

>you never attempted to be *her* with this mask, but you’ve practiced vocal mannerisms, the way she moves

>even your hair flows like hers do

>as you approach the twenty four guard squadron, the supposed leader realizes your presence and jumps to attention

>Guard Leader: “P-Princess Celestia! W-What are you doing here…?”

There’s been a commotion going on below, an intrusion has been made into the castle. There is a guard hurt below and two were attacked at the nearest entry. I need you to help the search to find the intruder.

>Guard Leader: “Yes, your majesty. Guards, follow me.

>they all shuffle blindly past you, missing Pinkie as she takes cover behind a statue

>one guard hesitates as he passes by, somewhat noticing your eyes are an odd color

>he quickly takes off in embarrassment as you turn your head to acknowledge him, darkly grinning as they all foolishly exit the area they should be guarding the most

Incompetent imbeciles. Only one doubted my identity, and they obeyed without a second thought. Such is the loyalty to the Princess, I suppose.

-----

>approaching the door, you can tell by the light tint of magic that someone, likely Blueblood, has mystically been locked

>thankfully in Celestia’s impersonation, you’re granted the same abilities as she is, even if only for another four minutes

>your lower your horn to the door, and the cast is dispelled into non existence

>you give a slight chuckle, the mare’s voice taking your own as the door silently opens at your will

>you can see in the darkness the prince sound asleep, a large pile of bits absurdly sitting on the table

>you shuffle to the side, imbibed by the shadows of the room, and close the door

>mentally pulling off the mask, you’re warped back into your normal self

>this guy is a hell of a heavy sleeper

>you scan the room and the stallion for any sign of tamper or traps

>asserting that there are none, and that is the legitimate target

>you walk towards him, pulling out a trifling vial and a tiny needle

>you fill up the syringe with a drop of Pinkie’s Azaperone, and approach the sound asleep prince

>he stirs slightly just as you stand above him

>Blueblood: “Mmmhf…?”

Time to sleep, sweetheart.

>his eyes shoot open as you stab him with the needle, injecting the tranquilizer into his artery

>he swings his magic in full throttle before you could react, and you’re swung across the room into a chair

Bloody… unicorns.

>he flops out of the bed, the needle falling out of him, as he panics at what the hell is going on

>he begins swaying, the sharp change in blood pressure forcing the chemical faster through his heart

>in his frantic motion, he mumbles something and starts casting some sort of ominous looking spell

>you whip out the obelisk just in time, swinging it to reflect the incantation

>the cast hits the dresser with the bits on it, and it bursts into an inferno of flames

>having used his last ounce of willpower, he slumps to the floor as the tranquilizer takes full effect, the fire quickly spreading to the silk on the bedframe

>you put away the obelisk and pull out the mask, and a couple seconds later you’re lifting a somewhat heavy Prince Blueblood on your back

>exiting the flaming room, you’re ready to scram the joint when you find yourself face to face with the REAL Celestia, along with five dozen guards

>Pinkie somehow is not being seen hiding behind the pillar

Curses- Hello, Celestia.

-----

>it’s dead silent, save the fire spreading to the rest of the bed

>Princess Celestia is dumbfounded to see a ruffled version of her, Prince Blueblood on your back no less

>her eyes narrow, as if recognizing who you are

>well shit, guess you’re going to the moon

>Celestia: “I see you came to strike a blow to my kingdom again… Queen Chrysalis.”

>you blink

>you leer with a joy at being recognized as the ruler of the Changelings, and give a remarkably cold laugh

I see you saw right through me, Celestia. However, today is my victory. Blueblood is MINE!

>Celesta: “Not this time, GUARDS!”

>you have seconds left as the magic of the mask begins to fade off

>guards charge at you, and with the little knowledge from the books about magic, you focus on Pinkie Pie, Blueblood, and yourself

>just as they reached you, you were gone in a flash, a teleportation spell clearing the three of you out

>Celestia: “Find HER! We cannot let Queen Chrysalis take my nephew!”

-----

>in a dark alley of Ponyville, you land into a pile of trash, along with Pinkie Pie and an unconscious prince

>the mask forcibly separates from your face, plopping into your lap

Ugh, guess who’s gonna be taking two baths tonight. You alright Pinkie?

>Pinkie: “Hehe, yeah! Anon, that was awesome, you just beat the Princess!”

>her hair is at full bloom with static electricity, the excitement thrilling her to no end

Indeed, not only did we have some fun, we both got this scummy bastard AND convinced Celestia that it wasn’t us.

>you look at the unconscious pony next to you, only to find his face pummeled in a trash bag

>you sneer in glee, finally seeing the little bugger getting dirty in reality for once

>now to make sure he dies with his hooves dirty

Alright, let’s get home, and enjoy some of that fucking cake.

-----

>an hour later, after securing Prince Blueblood and making sure he can’t use magic (or rather, Pinkie did), you take a well-deserved shower and clean off your sweaty/bloodied clothing and overcoat downstairs in a rough cleaning solution

>hanging them to dry near the incinerator and putting the heat on “not hell”, you go upstairs to find Pinkie sitting at the kitchen table with a well-crafted cake

>you notice it says “Congratulations, a winner is YOU!” on it

>well said, Pinkie, well said

Alright, Pinkie; we did pretty boss today. I hope you find the event satisfactory.

>she giggles, looking at you in awe and wonder

>Pinkie: “I loved it! Thank you so much for the date Anon<3!”

>you sit down, and cross your arms in a thinking motion

A date? I wasn’t under the impression that we were dating, nor was I aware that this was a passionate get-together.

>Pinkie, despite being her cheerful self, blushes at this

>she rubs her hooves together in anxiety, unsure how to respond

Pinkie Pie, I-

>Pinkie: “One second, Anon.”

>she shuffles away to leave you in wonder, and you can hear Pinkie running the sink

>after about a minute, you lean back on your chair as Pinkie came back in-

>her hair was wet and brushed down somehow

>it appears she’s trying her best to look serious for you

>you’re trying to decide if she does or not seem more thoughtful

>if she’s trying to convince you, it’s more effective than the “look”

If you’re trying to make a point, Pinkie, make it now. We have a cake to eat and a prince to kill, torture if I’m a good mood after this.

>she gulps, a pink still overhanging her face in a deep casted blush, and it appears she’s trying to gather courage to either say something important, or cast the knife she was going to cut the cake with at you

>you’re not here for games

>you’re here for fucking cake

Spit it out, Pinkie, or cut this fucking cake!

>Pinkie: “AnonIreallyreallylikeyouandIthinkweshouldgooutanddatelikewedidthisnightand-“

Alright, now cut the damn thing!

>if she had balls, this is where they drop

>at the very least her chin slammed the table

>Pinkie: “Y…you’re ok with that?”

Pinkie, give me a break. I’m a professional killer with a self-guided devotion to justice, and you’re a well-designed psychotic killing machine that smells like cotton candy.

>she blinks, unsure what this means

I’m trying to say that, eh. Yes, I think we’ve spent enough time together that we can consider us dating.

>her eyes well up like this is a freaking soap opera

Please don’t cry, Pinkie. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have let you in here, I wouldn’t let you sleep in my bed so I can chase the nightmares away, and I certainly wouldn’t have let you live. If you want to call that romance, that’s fine with me. Just don’t expect anything to change, and I’ll be damned if you try sharing my blanket with you.

>she still couldn’t help it, despite your plea

>she lets loose a couple tears and leaps over the table

>into your arms she goes, knocking you and the chair over in the momentum

Good fucking god, you can leap… you’re going to puncture a lung one day- you know that, right?

>Pinkie: “Anon, you’ve done me more than enough kindness.”

If you try to- oh come on, at least give me the warning before I have to do it.

>you have two fingers planted on her lips, as she tries to press them on yours

>you have a job to do; pleasure, if you decide on any, must come later

Pinkie, I agreed to what you said. You know I care about you, and your well-being. I will promise to make you happy whenever you’re near me. But I’m not going to allow such ardor to occur when I am craving that bloody cake and the end of an unconscious unicorn below me.

>you pick her up and manage to get yourself upright, sitting on the top of the still knocked over chair

Business before pleasure, dear.

>you set her on the table as you bring your chair to its rightful vertical pose

>Pinkie: “Buuuut… you’re about to eat cake, isn’t that a pleasure?”

It’s a guilty pleasure, and yes I’ll be enjoying it first.

>she smirks at you admitting your liking for her baked goods, but continues her soft interrogation

>Pinkie: “What about me, then~? Wouldn’t I be also a pleasure like this cake?”

>she actually attempts to pose in a sexy fashion between you and the cake

>this makes you burst out laughing

>Pinkie: “What’s so funny?!”

You, posing. Pinkie, you are so random!

>Pinkie: “Hey!”

>you shrug, hands up in mock surrender

I’m just playful; I don’t mind you being random. As for your question, the answer is also “yes”. However, I would like to conclude that while you also may be a “guilty pleasure”, you’re one I would prefer to save for last.

>Pinkie begins silently debating, looking at the ceiling in some sort of effort of deciding whether or not it was worth arguing

>thankfully the idea strikes her well, and she returns to her seat to begin cutting the cake

About time, geez. You really need to learn not to tease me when there’s cake involved; you may find that one day I like your cooking more than you!

>she grins darkly as she hands you a slice

>Pinkie: “I might have to do something to my cooking for you when that day comes.”

You try that, and I’ll be making sure your throat will be lodged with every cooking utensil I have stocked here.

>she smiles sweetly at these words of idle threat, the both of you knowing full well neither of you would attempt their own intimidations

>Pinkie: “You’re such a sweetheart, Anon~!<3”

Mmfmmrghpl.

>you can’t talk while eating cake, geez

-----

>fifteen more cake drenched minutes later, you’re full of Pinkie’s delicious dessert and now downstairs rinsing out the knifes you and Pinkie used during the excavation

>you take the Mask of Shadows and open a somewhat hidden door, lit only in the back by a single light bulb

>in what could be seen, nothing was here but barren walls

>and a single iron chest, chained in several ways to make it otherwise inaccessible

>there was a single thing in there, a simple object

>yet its powers were so destructive and horrifying that even you refuse to use it

>you obtained it by chance, and yet you swear it was fate by mysterious and higher forces

>thankfully in your hands, it will never see the light of day again

>as you reach it, you place the devious mask on a hook above it, back in its resting place

>Pinkie: “Hey Anon… what’s that?”

>she sits at the door to the closet, looking in with mild curiosity

Pinkie, it is something that would make even the immortals fearful of their life; the darkest of creatures would tremble in its sight; so foul and hated this thing is, for it is the embodiment of death itself.

>her eyes grow wider and wider with each word you speak, and you walk up and past her

If you trust me and care about me as much as you should, you will forget about it until the day comes for it to be used.

>Pinkie: “Okie~! When will that be?”

Never, hopefully.

>she groans as you slam the door closed, which ostensibly was enough to rouse Blueblood from his sluggish stupor

>Blueblood: “Whuh… ugh, my head…”

Heya, sweetie! Got some bad news for ya, bud. Ya see, this little paper,

>you brandish the paper strip

Has your name on it, and unfortunately for you that means you may or may not have to die.

>Pinkie: “Hehe! You’re so mean, Anon~!”

>Blueblood tries struggling against his bonds hopelessly

>he then realizes that destiny called for him to be a unicorn, and began trying to unravel himself

>this led to anguish cries

What, magic not working for you too well? Perhaps that thing Pinkie chopped off earlier caused a problem. Should we glue it back on?

>you point at a bloody mass on the table with a terrible smile, and to the prince’s horror he realizes that his horn is now separated from his body

>Blueblood: “You…ugh… you TRAITOR!”

Oh, please. Like I want to hear that from the so called “beloved royalty” that used his name to get everything he wanted, through pressure or force.

>Pinkie is looking at the knifes placed in a long row on the table, trying to decide which one she’ll use

>Blueblood: “Anon, please… we’ve worked together, you… I have done great things. I promise I’ll pardon you, just please… please let me go.”

Hey Pinkie, try that one with the jagged blade.

>you point at the knife that seems more of a tiny saw than anything

>Pinkie gleams with joy as she snatches the weapon in question

>Blueblood: “What, what are you going to do to me?”

What am I NOT going to do to you? Go ahead Pinkie, grab “it” for your collection.

>she trots forward in her usual chipper manner, and the horrified stallion begins screaming at the approaching mare

>Pinkie: “Anon… he’s yelling.”

What, I thought you enjoyed the screams?

>Pinkie: “I do, but… I think he’s a bit annoying. Can you…?”

>you reach for the ball gag, the first to use it, and force it into Blueblood’s mouth

>his muffled shouts fall to deaf ears as Pinkie steadies herself beside his flank, trying to pick out the best motion

>his head begins swinging in agony, despite the lack of pain induced yet

>you snatch his head in an iron grip and force him to look into your cold eyes

Remember when you reminded me that I was nothing but an ant to you, before tossing my bits to the ground for me to collect? Yeah, I didn’t forget that. I didn’t overlook those mares I watched entering in your place with a broken soul, begging you for mercy, and leaving with beaten faces and destroyed flanks. I don’t forgive the times you’ve raped and destroyed people that were at your mercy, and- Pinkie, remember to cut away from you, I don’t want you hurting yourself sweetheart.

>she giggles at your concern for her safety, and begins carving into his flank for his cutie mark

>his screams are being drowned out by your own mad cackle

Anyways, where was I…? Oh, forget it- just enjoy the ride, and keep your hooves inside at all times.

>as Pinkie finishes cutting the delicate piece of flesh off, his quiet shouts of anguish begin to seize, his spasming hind giving in from the agony

Alright, Pinkie, let me do one thing, and he’s all yours.

>she nods as she admires her new cutie mark

>Pinkie: “Oooo, it’s so pretty~!”

>you reach for a long blade, your survival knife, and go over to the incinerator

>you turn up the heat and hold the blade to it

>the intense fires waft over your leather gloves, stinging your fingers, but you hold in place until it becomes white-hot.

Pinkie, you’re so silly. You should know that you’re more beautiful than any other pony, especially this grunt.

>Pinkie: “Tehe, I know that, silly! It feels nice that you say that though…<3”

>you return to the conquered stallion, ready to accept death as it comes

I just wanted to give you one little reminder of the pain of all those people you’ve harmed maliciously and in cold blood. Perhaps you’ll be reminded of their screams as you make your own?

>with this thought you dive your knife into his right shoulder, and even through his gag the shrieks were enough to pierce your body

I guess I forgot to say this, seeing how it’s past midnight. Happy birthday, Prince Blueblood. Hopefully Pinkie will give you a hell of a party.

>she already has a scalpel ready for whatever plans she has next

>you sit down and finish the wood carving you made of him, the look of subjugated terror on his face fresh in your mind

>Pinkie: “This is wonderful! Do you know what this calls for?”

-----

>after about a half hour of watching Pinkie Pie have her way with Blueblood, you clean up the mess and both shower (separately, of course) and are soon in your silk pajamas and bed

Late night, guess we’ll sleep in a bit late tonight.

>Pinkie: “Mmm, can we~?<3”

Yeah, I suppose we can spoil ourselves a bit more.

>still in her own blanket, she snuggles her body against your own, the only barriers being two thin cloths of silk and the blankets

So, you want to “date” me now, eh… if I may ask, why do you want such a term? I hardly consider what we do together a healthy relationship.

>she turns her head to look at you, sleep driving her eyes slowly shut

>Pinkie: “You’re Anon, goofy. Might as well lay a claim on you since I can’t stick a knife in ya.”

Hm, I see. Well,

>you lift your blanket over her, and snatch her in your grasp

Might as well enjoy you being my, eh… what do they call it here?

>Pinkie’s quite embarrassed at the motion, although she’s just as pleased at the contact

>Pinkie: “Are you ok with me calling you my special some*pony? I wasn’t sure if…”

Of course it’s fine, Pinkie. Take a look at this.

>she turns around, having balled into your arms, and her lips are met with yours, if only for a second

>for a bubblegum pink mare that’s usually hyper and jumpy, she’s suddenly shy and timid

>Pinkie: “Anon…”

You’re welcome, and you did great today. You wanted to thank me, right?

>Pinkie: “… am I really that easy to read?”

No, but you’re easy to understand. The beauty of being close to someone; sometimes you understand them better than yourself. Goodnight, Pinkie.

>Pinkie: “G’night~! Or is it morning?”

It’s morning.

>Pinkie: “Then good morning~! Sleep well, Anon. <3”

You too, sweetheart.

>end