From Inside: Adaptation with Pinkie Pie

The fresh corpse of a small pink horse lay before me. My trembling hands jerked away from her long neck. The knife she wanted to stab me with reluctantly fell from her teeth. In fear, I bounced away from him and looked around. May as well try to calm down. Even though nothing is threatening my life right now, however… She was gone. I turned away for a second, and that pink parody of a horse was gone, leaving me alone in this impenetrable darkness. … Uh. Okay. Gotta… We’ve got to put everything in order. Let’s start with the fact that it’s chaos. No, that’s not gonna work. We need to be specific. Specificity clears your mind of all the unnecessary stuff. And first, let’s go over a few simple questions. The first question is, “Who am I?” It’s simple. Zheltukhin Dmitri. 21 years old. Born and lived in hell, well, that is, in Saratov. I studied to be a dental technician with mixed success. I have a girlfriend Alexandra, parents Vitaly and Ekaterina, brother Daniel and sister Daria. And other things on the list. Fine. My memory’s still intact. I remember something. The next question is, “Where am I?” And that’s a great question. The answer to it, too. F**k knows. No, seriously, where am I? I looked around. There was nothing around except the utter darkness that enveloped everything around him. A little in the distance, an old, slightly rusty Soviet plafond, hanging on a very long cord, was swaying slightly. The light from the dusty incandescent bulb in it barely dispersed the darkness coming from everywhere. Maybe I’m in some kind of warehouse? Big and empty. This bulb is about forty meters away, and I haven’t bumped into anything. Returning to the plafond, I looked around again. In this impenetrable and sticky darkness, there was no hint of a door, window, or anything else that would give a clue as to where the exit was. Eh… Okay, never mind for now. We’ll think about it a little later. Now the third question is, “What’s going on?” Nothing, actually. There was a lot of movement before that, though. I woke up on the floor under this very plafond. And then I needed to run. Run from what? A weird pink thing with a knife. She was holding it in her teeth and actively trying to cut me with it. I couldn’t get far away from her, though. She (I’m sure for some reason it was “she”) jumped on me and threw me to the floor. We struggled, and eventually I managed to choke her out. After that, she vanished into thin black mist. Very weird shit, but I hope she doesn’t resurrect. The nice thing about the answers to the questions in my head is that there is relative order. At least I’m alive, in one piece, and don’t need anything yet. It’s even gotten a little too calm, but that’s a good thing. It’s easier to deal with problems. Although I still feel like I’ve forgotten something. Something very important. Hmm. I’ll remember it later. I hope so. It’s interesting… Not even the familiar whimpering in my arm. I broke it on my way home from college the other day. Fucking ice. And now it doesn’t hurt at all. Hmm. All right, let’s think about what’s important. How do we find a way out of here? I like this place less and less. I noticed a small wooden door at the edge of my line of sight. Why didn’t I see it before? Probably because there was no light behind it before. And if there was a light there, that means someone’s there. And if someone’s there, that doesn’t bode well. It’s probably the warehouse owner (or my captors). Best to stay out of sight for a while. After stepping out of the light of the lamp, I walked quickly and quietly to the wall, which was painted with some kind of black paint. Very black. If you didn’t know it was a wall, you’d think there was nothing there. I walked to the door about ten meters away and waited. After a few minutes no one bothered to show themselves out of it. Now that was strange. I slowly made my way towards it, praying that no one would jump out of it. As I approached the door, I heard… Uh… Something strange. There was a girlish squeal, laughter, and chatter coming from there. The strangest thing was that the language was clearly not Russian, and some parts of the shouts that sounded especially loud, I understand without much difficulty. And… I’m actually not even sure what language it is. But it’s definitely not Russian. And it’s not English. Not even close. With a quiet click, I opened the door, nestled into the resulting gap, and began to stare. There was exactly the same… Though no. A slightly different pink thing, similar to the one that had attacked me. Unlike the one with straight hair, hers turned out to be curly and unruly. Kind of like cotton candy. I looked closer and realized it was a small horse. A pony, of sorts. Only unlike real horses, its face was… Hmm. Not unnatural, more cartoonish and cute. It didn’t cause any kind of rejection. More like a question. This horse was jumping on some sort of round glowing platform in the center of the room. Around her stage was a chaos of cakes, cupcakes, balloons, tables with ornate tablecloths, and other things somehow related to the holidays. There’s even a painted cannon in one corner. I wouldn’t be surprised if it shoots confetti. The pink pony jumps around the platform in a way that seemed to break the laws of physics at times. Or maybe it’s just me being crazy. Her eyes were constantly flashing with different images and scenes, changing from one to another, so I couldn’t see anything in particular. She was being watched… How long has it been? I don’t know, but not long. Maybe about half an hour. And after observing her, I can say with certainty that there’s something fishy going on. It’s like everything that’s here isn’t quite real. No, it’s not. It’s not real at all. It’s like a dream or a coma or-- I don’t even know what to compare it to. Where did I get that from? Oh-ho-ho! She’d change the interior of a room a dozen times at the clap of her hooves and then return it to the way it was. Things moved and changed at her will, as if it were magic. The gravity in the room changed so strangely that I sometimes forget where the bottom was when I was outside the room. It’s fun, isn’t it? Yeah, and I don’t think so. The horse finally got off the platform and walked somewhere out of sight with a slightly tired look. Some sort of door slammed behind her and the lights in the room went out. From everything I saw, I was… Yes I was f**ked in my brain! There’s just no other way to put it! F**king magic! I recognize that little one, by the way. It’s definitely a pony and her name is Pinkie Pie. She’s from some cartoon my sister used to watch. Anyone in my shoes would have thought it was all a dream and could do whatever they wanted, but some of her actions made me question that. In particular, the fact that she said “anypony” instead of just “anybody”. It’s a little thing, but it’s a little jarring. She also talked about places and events that I simply don’t know. What’s Sugarcube Corner? What about Golden Oak? She said something about a Carousel. What is all this stuff? From what I know from the cartoon — it’s Canterlot, Ponyville, Equestria and the attack of some changelings, which my sister happily told me about. And some character names and maybe a couple events. That’s about it. I can’t know the rest. Besides, she looked more cartoonish in the cartoon. This one looks real. The brain can’t generate something like that on its own. I guess. Simply put, it’s not as clear-cut as I’d like it to be. Waiting a bit longer, just to be sure, I decided to enter this room and take a look around. As I walked a little further inside, in addition to what I’d seen earlier, I noticed a large, creepy black box with a pink Pinkie Sense sticker on it, and an equally large, soft pink bag that could fit five people like me and a pony on top of it. Glancing at the black box again, I wondered what it was. Coming closer, I examined it more closely. It looked like nothing, but it had a strange eerie feel to it for some reason. The sticker on its wall does not make it nicer. On the contrary, it makes him even creepier. What the hell is that? What’s Pinky’s sense of smell? Sitting down, extremely carefully placed a hand on it and… Nothing happened? Nothing at all? Come on!!! So much creepiness and pathos from him, and in the end, a 'flop'? No, I wouldn’t call it a flop. Why don’t we take a look inside while the missus is out? Yeah, I guess so. And inside we have-- I don’t know what’s inside. No, actually, it’s more of an amorphous body, and it’s bright pink in color, which is interesting. It feels-- It’s like jelly or something. “Isn’t it cool?” a voice from the side asked me. I realized exactly whose it was, and tried not to act scared. It kind of worked. “Uh-huh. Like I’m touching Jell-O.” <Stay calm, Dim. You're not that easy to piss off. How did she even get here? I didn't even hear her come in. We need to-- We should ask her a question. It'll give me time to think. “Look, who are you?” “I’m Pinkie Pie,” she replied while bouncing in place. “The best party pony in all of Ponyville! And who are you, where are you from? What are you doing in my head? Do you want a party? I’m sorry, of course, but I’m really tired from throwing a party for another pony today, but if you want, I can throw one right tomorrow!”, she said, gibbering creepily. Wait, where am I now? . “Wait, where am I now?”, repeated my question out loud. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it. You have to introduce yourself first. What’s your name? You’re not from Ponyville?” the featherless pink wonder answered me. “I’m Dima. And yes, I’m not from Ponyville. Now you tell me… What’s wrong with you?”, I asked cautiously. After I said that, she started shaking like she was on a jackhammer. It’s going to explode. “New! New! New to Ponyville!” she yelled, bouncing all over the room. “Where are you staying? Are you going to live here? Where are you…”. By some unknown miracle I managed to catch her and cover her mouth. “Calm down please, nothing has been decided yet, but I think it will be soon.” Yes, I’m lying, what’s left. I need some information. “Tell me better, where am I?” “Oh, that’s easy, you’re in my head right now. Stop. Since you’re in my head, maybe you’re not real? I mean, I went to bed before I saw you. Or maybe this is a dream? Or is it…” I had to clamp her mouth shut again. She’s talking too much. So she’s saying I’m in her head. I have no reason not to believe her. I’ve seen what she does. But… It can’t be. How could I be in someone’s head? Could it be a dream after all? How do I check? I stretch one arm out to the side and imagine a ball of fire burning in it. The fireball burst into flames, almost immediately. Is this a dream? No, stop. I can do that in my head, too. I need something else. I mean, why am I so calm about all this? It’s like it’s meant to be. “Wow! That looks cool! I can do that too!”, she said, lifting her front hooves up and lighting a couple fireballs on them. When did she have time to get out and give me a pillow? “Oh! Oh! Oh! We could put on some kind of show with that! We should get Twilight to come up with a spell so I can take fire in my hooves! That would be really cool!”. “Yeah, sure,” I answered her. One more thing to check out. “Listen… Uh… Pinke, right?”. She quickly shook her head playing with the fire. “Pinke, can you write something? No, wait though.” I imagined a paper and pencil, placed them on the already closed drawer and wrote «Hi Pinkie» I looked at it carefully and realized that I understood exactly what was written. It only means that everything around is less and less like a dream. You can’t read or write in a dream, as I know. Turning around to the pony, I saw that she was holding almost the same piece of paper with «Hi Dima» written on it, only in some other language. The strange combination of curves and scrolls was not like any language I had seen before. “Do you understand what it says here?”, I asked the pony. “Yeah, that’s why I wrote one for you in Equestrian. It’s some kind of game, right?”. “Sort of. You like it?"       Okay, I think I’m starting to understand something. By the way, I’ve been speaking to her in her language this whole time. And now I said it in Russian. Will she respond or not? “Yeah, but I think it needs some tweaking to make it fun for everyone!" she said in pure Russian. I thought she was going to answer on her own, but this…. “Oh! Did I just speak your language?” “Yeah, in my language.” “Great! Twilight will be excited to learn a new language! And she’ll also be excited when I tell her about you!” “No! Don’t do that!”, I exclaimed. We don’t want that kind of happiness! They’ll put her in the nuthouse or something. What if it’s magic? Wait. There really is magic here. They could probably get inside her head and kick me out. Or worse, kill me. I’ll have to think of something… “He-e-ey! Can you hear me?”, the pony called out to me. “Huh? Yeah, I can hear you, sorry. What were you asking?” “Why can’t I talk about you? Is something wrong?” “It’s just that I don’t know how I got here, and if I get kicked out of here, there’s no telling what will happen to me. Besides, they’ll worry a lot about you if they find out you’re sharing a head with someone else. I don’t want to hurt you. Let me try to figure out what’s what, and you go on with your life like you’ve been living, like I’m not here. Okay?” “You’ll be bored out of your mind! How are you going to get through it?”, she asked with a very pitiful face. “Trust me, I won’t be bored anytime soon. If you want, you can always come visit me here. Alright?” “Okey-dokey-lokey!” “That’s great. Now I need to see what’s behind that door again.” “What door?” “That one,” I pointed towards the door I had come out of. She was, surprisingly, still there. “There’s no door there, silly,” she waved her hoof in that direction. It looks like it only exists for me. “She is there,” I asserted. There’s no way I’m the only one who’s seen her. “There isn’t!” “But I can see her,” approaching the named object, I said. “There’s no door,” she stood next to it and looked at it in disbelief. “Oh, there it is. I can even open it,” which I actually did. “Is this a joke? Wait, I know! It’s a pantomime! Only you’re doing it wrong! It’s where you’re supposed to be silent. Like this,” she tried to mimic an invisible wall. Oddly enough, one of her legs passed safely through the door. Instead of trying to prove to her that there was a door, I just walked through it and found myself in the same empty black warehouse. After walking a couple meters, I turned around and looked at her. The pony’s eyes almost popped out of her eye sockets in surprise. God, what an expressive facial expression she had. “WowWe! How did you do that? Is there a trapdoor? An invisible passageway? A portal?”, the pony asked, checking the wall. “No, Pinkie, there’s just a doorway you’re looking through.” “But I want to too! Why can’t I do it?”, she pouted. “I don’t know,” I replied, walking out of the warehouse and closing the door again. “Let’s just rest already.” “Then let’s go watch dreams! They’re very interesting.”, the pink pony suggested. “No, thanks. I haven’t looked around here yet. If you don’t mind.” “Okey-dokey!” And she galloped off out that door, where I realized was the dream room. I, on the other hand, pinched myself just in case. It hurts. Is this really not a dream?