"I'm not insane, am I? No, no, I don't think I am. Am I a sociopath? A psychopath? Maybe, maybe. I don't think so, but then how many psychopaths and sociopaths think they are what they are? Actually, probably a number of them. Maybe I should see somepony, a professional? No, no, that's just asking for trouble. No, I believe I'll simply have to wait until the day I get caught. Oh, well who's to say I even will? Hmm, oh! How rude of me, it appears you're waking up. Aren't you? Can you see anything dear?"
An earth pony slowly came to only to find himself held to a wall by metal braces. True to his first instincts, he tried in vain to get free, only to find his fears to be fact as the braces refused to even budge. He looked around a rather large, empty room, one that seemed decently lit and too tall to be sensible. He looked for the voice that had seemed to wake him, and he soon found the owner of it: what appeared at first to be a deep green unicorn with a dark blue, messy mane and a fedora sitting atop his head, just behind his horn.
"That's rather queer, you're definitely much less vocal than the others. I can respect that much, but you never answered me, and that is quite rude, sir." The unicorn looked up, and the eyes that met the stallion's on the wall were unsettling to say the least. This unicorn had dull grey eyes, ones that reflected only a hint of emotion, that seemed to be accustomed to hiding anything.
"Wh-who are you?" the earth pony stammered out.
The stallion blinked and removed his hat, perking his ears forward and holding a gloved hand to one ear. "Care to try again? I don't believe I heard you correctly."
The red stallion on the wall took another deep breath, his memories having slowly returned to him, telling him to simply stay calm and things would be okay. "Uh, I, I asked who you are."
The unicorn blinked a few more times before sliding the fedora back on and over his horn, which seemed to vanish under the hat as though it weren't there, something that even a novice could manage with a basic enchantment. The stallion nodded to himself. "Well, that's certainly not what I expected. In fact, I believe it's been..." he stops and looks up as he counts on his fingers, making small motions in the air, "one year, eight months, two weeks, and fourteen days since I've heard that question off the streets. What number were they?" He paused for a moment as he put his hand to his chin. "Yes, I believe it was a mare, a pink pegasus. She was number thirty-nine, if I remember correctly. Even then, she was the first in some time herself. Yes, I believe the far more common question I end up hearing is: What are you? A detail I guess I shouldn't really care about, as I answer the same in either case."
The unicorn then stopped, staring off for a brief moment before groaning and rubbing his temples. "Stay on track. No time for tangents here. Now, he was nice enough to speak, so just answer the poor thing." He took a few breaths before turning back with a warm smile.
"My apologies. I don't mean to rant like that. I just get off track sometimes. Especially with the fives and tens. Then again, when I get them down here, I can finally relax again. I can enjoy myself once more. No more worries about getting caught before I finish a set, you know? That's why you're here after all, you finish my ninth set. Number forty-five. After you, honestly, I could, and probably should stop. A complete set once more, and no reason to start another. I suppose that's a major flaw I have. If I start something, I have to finish it and make it look pretty. You'll be a five, so you'll make the set finished and pretty. Nine is a lovely number as well, truly it is. Squares are lovely little things. Cubes too. I believe this room was my nine meter cube. Either that or my ten meter cube, or was this one my eleven?"
"No matter, I'm off on a tangent again. Back to your question, though: I don't really have a name. Well, I suppose I do, but I think that who and what I've come to be is more suitable." He cleared his throat before removing his hat with more than a bit of theatricality. "I, good stallion, am Décés a la carne! Je m'appelle Death incarnate, in the flesh!" With that, the unicorn let out a throaty laugh, one not maniacal, but almost jubilant. "Oh, I never get tired of that bit. Whoo!" After wiping a tear from his eye, the unicorn looked to the earth pony on the wall who simply seemed somewhat taken back by the spectacle.
"Oh, come now. You won't be leaving her alive, so you may as well live up what time you have before I have my fun. I mean, goodness! Here you've let me be so rude as to delay answering your question for, what? Five, ten minutes, perhaps? Oh, but then the longer I go on, the longer you live, right? As long as I'm standing here, carrying on, I'm not skinning you alive, or pricking off your hooves, or yanking out your teeth one at a time, or carefully pulling out one of your eyes as not to sever it, only to turn it about and let you see every little thing I do to you, right? Of course I am! I'm no multi-tasker, I can't enjoy rending your flesh and bones and have my mind focused on my speeches at the same time."
The restrained earth pony simply gave a small, slow nod. This, of course, made the eccentric unicorn raise an eyebrow.
"I'm not sure I understand. You awoke suddenly in a location you've never seen, restrained against a wall, with a mad pony in front of you that has openly admitted that they fully intend to ensure you die this day. You have no way to escape, and no hope of seeing Celestia's sun even one more time in what is left of your life, and yet you're as calm as can be. Sure, you're obviously affected, it shows in your eyes, which by the way, isn't very impressive. You shouldn't let them say anything you don't want them to." He tilted his head side to side for a moment before looking back to the captured stallion.
"Then again, I guess it's no real surprise you're not good at that. It's not like you're some kind of serial killer or something, after all. No, you're just a, well, it's not important what you are, really, because nopony will ever see you again, living or not. Your corpse will never be found."
The unicorn looked down, striking a rather typical thinking pose after putting his fedora back on. After a moment he looked back to his captive.
"Why aren't you screaming and calling for help, actually? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I'm just curious. You're the only pony I've ever had here that has legitimately stayed so quiet that I've had to reel myself in from my own tangents. The others hardly let me get a word in edgewise before I've already carved their legs up and pierced their tongues." To the unicorn's pleasant surprise, the last part of his sentence earned him a curious glance from the earth pony.
With a grin the green stallion continued. "Oh, curious, are we? Something a bit odd about my tactics, I take it? Well, to answer what I believe to be your question: Yes. I sometimes like to pierce, and even tattoo my victims. I told you, I make art, beautiful art. Nopony that dies here simply becomes a carved heap of a corpse in the Everfree or something, no. I create art from the ponies I drag down here. I turn them into my personal canvas. After all, they've nothing to lose in my endeavors. I mean, why worry about your boss firing you over an inappropriate piercing or a visible tattoo when you're about to die?" He gave an exasperated groan. "Regardless, you would be surprised how many victims object as though they truly believe I'm going to let them leave, as though they've actually a life left to live somewhere in this world."
A glance at the red stallion told the unicorn enough. He frowned and sighed.
"Now I think you're just being rude. I mean, seriously. You aren't saying a word. I understand you may be upset, of course. That's fine. I get that. What is not okay, though, is you suddenly being so quiet. You should be losing your mind here. You realize I'm going to kill you, don't you?"
The earth pony gulped and nodded, but otherwise kept silent. The unicorn cocked his head for a moment. He gave a slow nod before clearing his throat. "Well then, I suppose that since you'll be allowing me to simply chatter on, I may as well have something to call you. What's your name again?"
"Stinger. It's Stinger," sounded off the still visibly shaken earth pony.
The unicorn smiled brightly at this and gave a dramatic bow as he removed his hat. "Well good day, sir Stinger. I'm glad to call you my guest. I am equally as glad to be the last stallion you see in this world. I'll accept this proudly." The unicorn then stood, placing the hand holding his hat over his heart.
"I eagerly accept such an honor, sir!" Stinger simply stared at the stallion as though he were insane as a silence filled the cavernous room.
After a moment, the unicorn cleared his throat and gave an awkward chuckle. He stood straight and adorned his hat once more.
"Well, not one for theatrics, I guess, are you? I suppose being in your position might permit such a reaction, hmm?" Another moment of silence filled the room before he sighed and continued. "Look, I'm sorry that you're here, honestly, I am. You seem like a nice stallion. If I'd known you were so decent, I wouldn't have selected you. Well, unfortunately, you're here now, and letting you go would only create problems for me, you see?"
Stinger sighed and looked around as the unicorn started his way back from fixing a cup of tea. Said unicorn took notice and decided to look his room over himself, smirking as he noticed something in the general direction of Stinger's stare. "Oh, you like that one? Yes, she was a rather rude one, really, oh, but her body was simply divine by the time I was finished. I daresay, if I were a necrophiliac, I would have the most amazing harem you could find. Here, let me bring her over."
"Uh, no, no, that's not really nece-" Stinger was cut off as a silhouette off away in the room lit up in a dull grey aura of magic. He blinked and missed the object teleporting into the light. Upon the vision becoming more clear, he froze, though with his situation it was hardly visible. There, before him, was a light blue unicorn, her horn apparently recently polished and well-kept, her eyes missing, and her body covered in piercings.
She had a corset pierced on her; as well as genital and nipple piercings, though the actual parts pierced were concealed by fur, though the rings and chains connecting the three piercings were easily visible; both ears sported ten bars that spanned from one side to the other and covered the front of her ears, both of which her held up by a taught chain between the bars on either side of her head; the bridge of her muzzle was pierced cleanly over from start to end; her lower lip had two rings on it, with the upper sporting two similar rings that rested on either side of the lower rings; her breasts themselves, as he now noticed, seemed to have piercings as well, the chains running through the piercings seeming to create cups above the corset.
Her arms and legs posed something Stinger had never seen on a pony before, a magical tattoo that showed easily through the mare's fur, the fiery orange color contrasting well in the intricate patterns and designs that covered her limbs. Stinger finally noticed a slight gleam from her neck, where enough shadow was cast to hide what was there. The other stallion smirked and easily manipulated the corpse to tilt the head up, revealing a blood red ring, like a collar, tattooed around her neck, meeting at a ringed piercing where the center of her collar bone and her neck met, effectively making a very permanent kind of slave collar.
The unicorn pulled a cigarette from his pocket. His horn lit up briefly as he lifted the filter to his lips, a small flame emanating from his free palm. He used the flame to light the cigarette before fading it and taking a short drag. After pausing a moment and turning away from his “guest”, he exhaled the puff of smoke and sighed.
“You know, Stinger, I’ve been doing a lot of talking here lately. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m kinda glad I did. I mean, I really feel like it helped to talk out a few things. I was the only one that knew my siblings were killed, and that’s because I did it. I’d love to say none of the things I’ve done haunt me, I’d love to tell you I’ve always been a completely cold, heartless killer, but alas, I was not. No, I’m still kind of getting over them.”
He took another, slightly longer drag before sighing and expelling the smoke, once more, away from Stinger.
“It’s one of the reasons I smoke, you know? Well, one of the reasons I still do. Nasty, nasty habit, swore I’d kicked it some time ago, but it sure as fuck helps you think your nerves aren’t so frayed.”
With one more drag, the unicorn raised an eyebrow before breathing out the smoke. “You know, I think I need to say a few last things to you. For one, you better feel pretty fucking special. I’m going to kill you, but I’m so empathetic over your comfort in your last minutes that I’m even assuming you don’t smoke for the time so you aren’t forced to breathe something you don’t want to.”
He paused. “Wait, do you smoke?”
Stinger simply shook his head.
“Probably for the best. On to my second piece, though. I must say that you have been extremely cooperative, especially considering, well, you know, the whole thing with me about to kill you and whatnot.”
“Speaking of which, I think I’ll go ahead and get to that. Doubtless you’re starting to cramp up. I didn’t exactly design that thing for comfort, after all.” With that, the unicorn walked to a table and retrieved what looked like a survival knife before walking to Stinger.
“Now, since you’ve been such a good sport, I’ll make this quick for you, in fact, I’ll even give you a chance for, oh, what do they call it? Last words? Yes, yes, I think so. Well, go ahead.”
Stinger hesitated for a moment, though only a moment, before he smirked, quickly earning a quizzical glare from his captor. “It’s about damn time you guys got here.”
The unicorn barely had time to react, let alone respond, before the door a few meters behind him was ripped from its hinges. It only took him moments to figure out what had happened, and an instant later he had turned and lunged for Stinger.
Author's Note
Incomplete? 
wut?
“Hurry up and get that damned muzzle on him. My shift ended a good ten minutes ago.”
A green unicorn fought back as best he could against the guard trying to follow said order. The cuffs on his wrists weren’t exactly making it any easier. “First I can’t get a cup of tea, now you’re gonna muzzle me?”
The guard, finally at the end of his rope, shoved the unicorn back, throwing the killer off just long enough to get him muzzled. “There! Go on Sparks, he’s restrained.”
A muffled protest came from the unicorn, though he made no apparent move to escape. The cart began to levitate before Sparks set off, presumably towards Canterlot, and the now captured serial killer was left alone with his thoughts. Fortunately, his thoughts had plenty to say.
Well, at least you got number forty-five.
Yeah, that counts for something, right?
Yeah, sure. I mean, I got caught, I’m gonna get some kind of death sentence, and I’ve got a snowflake’s chance in Tartarus at getting out of it, but, you know, I satisfied my illness first.
I honestly can’t even tell if that was sarcasm.
Is it bad when the voices in someone’s head can’t tell whether or not their ‘host’ is being sarcastic?
Depends, do you count that as a possible measure of mental condition?
Let’s just say the answer to that is ‘yes’ and see where it goes.
In that case, we are absolutely bat-shit crazy.
Noted. Should we try and see if we can get a psychiatric evaluation when we get to the castle?
Am I the only voice in here pleasantly surprised at the coherency of this discussion? You know, considering we’re basically insane?
No, no, I’m quite surprised by how well my mental stitching is holding, too. I completely forgot how many of you fuckers were up here with me. How long have we even been talking?
Obviously not long enough to get to Canterlot, otherwise we would’ve--
The carriage shook slightly as it came to rest on the ground.
Scratch that. Time apparently flies when you’re talking to yourself.
Watch it, I do not consider even half of you as a part of me.
Suck it up. You’re about to be rid of us all forever, right?
Maybe, but I would have likely preferred it not be through means of execution.
And don’t forget, he may get a life sentence instead, then we’ll just have each other until the day he kicks the bucket.
Oh joy, oh joy.
Anyone else find it weird that it seemed to only take half as long as it should have? It’s almost like we landed near the slums or something.
We’ve also been talking to one another the whole time.
Well, then I suppose either our temporal field shifted or these guards are taking their smoking break before getting us.
The gate at the back of the carriage clicked as two guards opened it and walked in, taking the unicorn by his arms and dragging him out without a word. The unicorn could offer little more than muffled, incomprehensible comments and protests as he was dragged unceremoniously into what seemed to be a very large tree. It was stranger still to see the inside lined with shelves lined with books.
The guards pulled him through a door and down a long staircase, tossing him forward upon reaching the bottom step. He stumbled, rolling on instinct as he hit the ground, and wound up kneeling before the looming figure of Princess Luna.
“I take it you are the killer we have been tracking for years now?”
The unicorn stood, taking a casual stance as he began explaining through the muzzle, his words coming out as muffled, incoherent mumblings, something he was well aware of and purposely continued in spite of.
It took less than a minute for a guard to approach and remove the muzzle. “... but I suppose if you must have an answer, then I would have to assume that, yes, I am the pony you sought. Oh, and thank you for finally removing the muzzle. Any chance I could hear what the point of it was?”
“We are aware of who you are, as well as who your mother was. We were merely taking sensible precautions.”
The unicorn glared for a moment, before sighing. “Well, then, if I may, I would like to submit a complaint about the service here. I offered my last victim tea, even a sandwich. I would have made the stallion a sandwich, but your guards were so rude that, not only did they muzzle me and treat me like some rag doll, but they utterly denied me of my request for tea. Is it really that hard to be polite anymore? I offer my captives something before their inevitable death, assuming they aren’t simply screaming and begging for help the entire time and cutting my generosity short, and I’m the bad guy here?”
Luna’s expression never changed, her eyes unwaveringly locked on his. “We will discuss that later. For now, we have more important matters to--”
“Oh, no! I’m making one thing clear here and now.”
“You dare interrupt us?”
“You’re damned right I do! What do I have to lose? Even if you couldn’t pin the other forty-four charges of murder on me, you have guards that personally witnessed me kill that “Stinger” fellow. You’ve got all you need to give me a death sentence. On top of that, I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with you. It was two weeks, two damn weeks after you returned that my mother was sent on her last mission, that she died on your fucking crusade. To be honest? I’m about livid, and rightfully so.
“You’re going to send me to the moon, put me in a cell for life, or put me under the axe no matter what I do or say here. I’m not getting out of shit by being nice. I like being nice, truly I do, but when I can’t even get a cup of damned tea before you send me off to my death or wherever you intend for me to spend the rest of my days, I lose my patience just a bit.”
“We are sorry for your loss, truly, but if you will only list--”
“Oh, you’re sorry? You’re sorry that I lost my mom on your own orders, only to be thrown into the fray myself at twelve? I wasn’t even in there for serious work. I was given training as basic as it comes and used for fodder. I was an expendable soldier sent out on suicidal missions for whatever taur-shit cause you whimmed. I almost died out there, and you’re sor--”
The room shook as Luna spoke in her Royal Canterlot voice. “Enough. Thou shalt hold thine tongue. Dost thou understand?”
A moment of silence passed before the unicorn recovered from the suddenness of the scene and managed a nod.
Luna nodded and took a deep breath. “Now then, will somepony get him some tea?”
“Black, if it’s no trouble?”
Luna sent a sharp glare at the unicorn, who simply shrugged. “Black tea, then.”
A guard nodded. “Yes, your highness.” The guard then hurried off from the room.
“Now, your tea will be ready soon. Is that ‘hospitable’ enough?”
The unicorn nodded.
“Good. On to what we have been trying to say, then. We do not intend to put you to death. No, we are on the cusp of something great. We are nearly done with the preparations, and now that we have gotten you here, we are at the final step before we may truly begin.”
The unicorn cast a questioning glance, one which Luna was not surprised by in the slightest. “We intend to end the all-too-complacent rule of our sister, Celestia. To do so without an all-out war will require time, planning, and skill. You are the last component we need. We feel you will find it much more palatable than a dungeon, the moon, or the chopping block. Are we wrong?”
The unicorn was quiet for a time before shrugging. “I’m a killer being commanded to kill by a higher power. What’s there to lose, really?” A door opened as the guard from before returned with a tea cup on a saucer. The unicorn smiled and took the saucer in his hands, his horn lighting up as he used his magic to help him take a sip. “Not bad, not bad at all.”
“So, then, you agree to aid us?”
The unicorn stopped for a moment, looking into his tea before looking up to the Princess. “First, tell me something, would you kindly? I’ll trust you not to lie about this, but I need to know: Which of you sent my mother’s team on that mission?”
Luna stared at him for a moment before sighing. “Celestia insisted they go, true, but I was, unfortunately, the one to give the order. Is there anything more?”
The unicorn was silent for a moment, taking a quick sip of his tea before speaking. “No. I will be glad to help. Truth be told, I much more prefer to be out and about than pent up in a cell or on the moon, or dead.”
“Good to know. Star, remove his cuffs.”
One of the guards to bring the unicorn into the room walked over, fishing in her pocket for the key, pausing after a moment. The unicorn cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s in my left glove.”
“What?”
He groaned and managed to work his hands to move the glove up from his wrist before pulling out the key in question and unlocking the cuffs himself. He then dropped the cuffs and key in the now slackjawed guard’s hand. “You guys were never too good at your job, you know. That, and I didn’t get my count just from being lucky.”
The guard slowly nodded before stepping back. “Now, it appears we’ve only one more problem. Of all the things we could find on you, your name was not on that list.”
“That’s very likely because I have not a name to list.”
“Is that so? Interesting. Then I suppose we’ll simply have to give you some form of code name, hmm?” Luna pondered for a moment before nodding to herself. “It’s not clever or particularly fitting, but for now we will refer to you as Spectre. Does this suit you?”
The unicorn shrugged. “I suppose it does. It could be much worse.”
“Good. Then henceforth, you are Spectre, our shadow warrior.” At the far end of the room, another door opened as three mares stepped through, making their way towards Spectre and Luna. “Your timing could not have been better, my little ponies. Spectre, these three will be your teammates. Your squad will have three days to get acquainted before we begin full team training. That is all.”
Spectre simply nodded before turning and taking note of one of the first things he always noticed, the eyes. One pair were orange, possibly appearing golden in the proper lighting, and seemed slightly unnerved; the second were something of a mint green, almost innocent, and strangely welcoming; the last made him stop for a moment; they were purple, comparable to amethyst, but what he found so striking was how pleasantly empty they were, as though all light had left, but happiness somehow managed to remain.
The mare with the empty eyes smiled. “So, Spectre, huh? It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Scootaloo.”
Author's Note
If you don't get the title, just wait and keep a look out. I like to tie things together. 
