Psycho

Psycho

Chapter 4

“He killed four ponies!”

“I understand that, but he is clearly not mentally stable, he can’t help it.”

“Ugh, fine, we will give him a new identity, out him in a new town, give him a new life, but we will be keeping a close eye on him.”

Rarity awoke slowly, not realising where she was at first, but she quickly realised that she wasn’t in her plush, soft, cosy bed in carousel boutique.

“W-what is this ghastly place?” she questioned. “Why is this... thing so wet and sticky?”

The remains of previous victims still adorned the table then she was strapped to, the blood was staining the mare’s coat, but it didn’t matter, no one was ever going to see it again apart from the freak that had her down in this dark place.

“I say hello? Is anypony there?” Rarity questioned the dark desperately craving an answer from one of her friends, she wanted it to be some sort of practical joke set up by pinkie or rainbow, but alas, no answer just what seemed like an endless void of pure pitch blackness.

The sound of hoof steps echoed though the dungeon.

“H-hello? Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie? Is this one for your infantile jokes? If so I am not amused!” the tone in her voice now hinting a mixture of fear and desperation.

The lights buzzed into life, Rarity wished that they didn’t, the light revealed the horrors the darkness covered. So much death, blood draped the walls, but that was not the only thing on the wall, various body parts adorned the walls. Rarity cringed at the sight of mangled and mutilated limbs can bodies, some looking like fresh kills, no more than a few days.

An ominous voice filled the room “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I suppose what means nothing to you, you are beautiful to everypony aren’t you?”

“W-what? Who are you? Show yourself!” Shouted the terrified mare.

“Salvation for our kind,” replied the psycho stallion

He walked over to a table in the middle of the room, it had items on it, a metal file and a flask filled with a clear liquid, it was labelled ‘Highly Volatile’. He walked over to the table and picked up the flask, he turned his head to give a quick, yet deeply disturbing grin to the tied down mare. He turned his body fully to face rarity, and he started to slowly edge his way towards her.

“Now let’s just hope you have a nice personality,”

He lifted the flask up to the side of her face, fear shot through her like poison though veins, she violently shock and her breathing rate went through the roof. The stallion slowly started to tip the flask.

“OH CELESTIA PLEASE DON’T, I BEG YOU PLEASE LET ME GO!” screamed the terrified mare, but they went un-answered.

The liquid slowly dripped onto her face, burning her flesh down to the bone. The mare screamed in pain, the flesh was melting away from her face slowly and painfully, the liquid continued to drip down the left side of her face and some started to inch into her chest and leg, a mixture of blood and tears streamed down the mares face. For 15 long minutes the liquid burned and melted the skin of the once illustrious and beautiful mare, 15 minutes of pure, wonderful, pain.

“W-Why? Why have you done this?” said the exhausted mare, the left side her face was destroyed, her mouth had disintegrated on that side of her face, showing the tendons and teeth inside her mouth.

“Because I am here to purge this world of impurities, and unfortunately for you, you are included,” replied the stallion, as he walked back to the table.

He picked up the metal file and studied it for a second, “Needs to be sharpened,” he walked to the corner of the room, he sat down at a grindstone and proceeded to sharpen the dulled file, “Perfect”.

He got up and walked up to rarity, she was clinging to consciousness by a thread. The stallion lifted the file up to her horn and made contact with the bottom of it with the file. He started to rub and scrape at her horn, usually a unicorn would be able to defend against something like this, but due to her exhaustion she could muster up the strength to fight back. The act of cutting off a unicorn’s horn was one of the most painful things that could happen to anypony, due to the magical connection, but the pain was amplified due to the fact that the stallion was using a file and not a saw or blade made the process slower than usual, making the pain last much, much longer. It took a whole hour of, excruciatingly agonising pain until the horn came free from the base of the mares scull, tears flooded down the mares face, getting into the wounds and making them sore, shooting pain into her face. The stallion looked at the horn, studying it. He looked at the mare, he then walked up to her and grasped her head, lifting it so she was looking at the ceiling, he opened her mouth and aligned the horn so it was aiming down her throat. With all his strength he plunged the horn down the mares throat, this didn’t kill her, she wish it would, the pain was unbearable, stretching her gullet, she couldn’t breathe, she gasped for air, but nothing, the horn prevented it, her skin changed to blue and her lips to an deep purple, she violently thrashed about on the table, trying to break free to clear her throat.

But life was not that kind.