Rainbine

Pinkie scrambled towards the door. The skeletal pony, swift as a falcon, blocked her with a sinister smile and aimed her hoof to split her heart in two.


A knock at the door. Spike the Dragon yawned and stretched in his little bed.
"Hey, it's like negative three in the morning, go away," he muttered, flipping over and settling back into his soft bed.

The door crashed open, and there stood the silhouette of an unhealthy-looking pony. Spike stared blankly, then looked like he was going to shrink into nothing.
The thing was frightening. There was blood dripping from a fanged grin, creating a red slick upon the ground. Its wings were angular and razor-sharp, bloodstained metallic feathers blended into its disgusting mat of jet-black fur. Its eyes were somewhat iridescent, glowing steadily red and dripping not unlike its mouth was.
"Oh, god," murmured Spike, staring at its cutie mark. The rainbow lightning bolt was clear as it could be, bright against the black of the pony's fur. Spike ran up to Rainbow Dash.
"Rainbow dash! What happened? Are you alright?" yelled Spike frantically as he took her hoof into his. Rainbow Dash's smile widened into a red pit of jagged teeth and blood. "I'm not Rainbow Dash," She cut off Spike. "I'm Rainbine. And I am perfectly okay. Unless you consider this okay," growled Rainbine, tossing a vivid pink pelt ridden with long, pin-straight locks of an almost sickening shade of rose. A few balloons appeared to be pinned to its flank.

Pinkie Pie.

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