The Bostmare massacure

They called me Gorilla Crunch once. They never realized how that made me feel. Even now, my feeling glands roil in anger when I think about it. The viscous goo held within boils white-hot, scorching my insides. The pain only grows every day, festering in my innards like some kind of horrible, horrible, festering meat-thing.

They mock me for my head. They think I'm a freak. "Hey, there goes Kitten Lord Supreme, isn't his head weird?" They say in passing, not even bothering to whisper. Their words are like angry kittens in my brains, scratching my frontal lobe with their tiny, litter-coated claws! No, wait. Not like kittens at all. Kittens are so cute and fluffy and happy and they fill me with joy. I salivate just thinking of them, their paws so tiny and sweet. So succulent and warm.

Kittens and cats are my favorite thing in the universe, and even my cutie mark is kittens. I just love them so, so much. They're absolutely adorable, and better than ponies in every way.

Ponies: just the thought of that insufferable race of colorful rats gets my glands dripping with hatred! They heap me in with that lot just because of this grotesque body I'm forced to suffer in, part pony, part gorilla. I hate it! I hate it all! They think I'm a monster, yet they're the true monsters. If they only looked in the mirror they'd know that. They'd see their own repugnant forms staring back at them with eyes too large for their heads. They make me sick! I vomit at the mere thought of their filthy, disgusting hooves.

So filthy! I hate my hooves. Hate them! Why can't I have paws like my kittens. Why can't I be perfect and fuffy wuffy adorable? I had many kittens once. So many kitties, hundreds, maybe. I never stopped to count, I never had time. My life was filled with so much love back then, and my time was occupied with holding them and scratching them and petting them and brushing them and feeding them. I was happy and they were happy! Why couldn't they see? Why are the ponies so blind to their filth!?

They make me sick. Every day I hear the tap of their hooves outside the window, like spiders crawling in my earlobes, they're repulsive! Their lives are short and meaningless! They don't even like kittens! Why don't they like kittens? Why can't they see? Their eyes are so large, and yet they can't see a damn thing! I hate them.

Just the thought of them makes me, ergh, so angry! They took away my kittens! They were jealous! Jealous I finally found happiness while they go about their miserable lives in this worthless world. They wanted my kittens all for themselves. They don't even like kittens, they just wanted them because I had them. I know they did. Damned animal control. They even had the audacity to lie to my face like I'm some sort of simpleton. Just because I have a gorilla head doesn't mean I have a gorilla brain! I hate them!

They said it was a health violation, having all those cats! I'm healthy! If they weren't so blind they could see that. I loved those cats and they loved me, then the ponies took them from me anyway. Just that word alone leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Ponies.

Ha! A bunch of stinking vermin the lot of them. They're a blight, a parasite on this world. Everything would be better off without them, I wish I could kill them all. I wish they would all die! But I'm just one, so I'll have to settle with what I can kill. They made many mistakes, ponies. Taking everything I love away and then leaving me alive would be their last. I'd show them, every last one of them!

The machete felt warm in my hoof-grip. I'd held it so much, imagining this day, it was like an old friend. A friend that had never fulfilled his purpose in life, and now he cried out to me to help him. And I would. Oh how I longed to feel them breaking. See if they carry the same smug look in those eyes once I've plucked them from their gargantuan heads. We'll see who's laughing once I've ripped out their throats. Just thinking about it makes my glands rumble. I can feel the hatred. The goo is thicker today, I can feel it!

Yes, today would be different. Today would be the day I had waited so long for. Taking my love was the last straw. Not even Celestia, tucked safe in her palace so, so very far away, could help them now. Things are gonna change forever, and it all starts once I step out that door.

And so I stepped out the door.

Despite my distaste of the pony-filth-beasts that inhabited this town, there they were. As soon as I left my home, they were there. They were always there. So many of them, why did I have to live on this busy street? I could already see their heads turning, feel their gazes on me, their massive eyes judging my every move. No, judging me. It doesn't matter what I do, I'm different. I hate them all.

The rent was so much cheeper here, all I could afford, where the sound of ponies on the busy street could be heard at all times. It haunted me in the night, and it filled my head in the day. The constant march of hooves on cobblestone like drums in my head I hated it so much. Only the mewling of kittens ever drowned it out and now they were gone and the sound was back. I had to silence it, if even for but a moment. I had to make it stop. I would go insane if I didn't.

They ponies walked as though nothing was happening. They didn't know my anguish. They couldn't know my pain. Thoughtless beasts, all of them. Devoid of true emotion. Sure they smile and cry and everything else, but I know they don't truly feel anything below the facade.

The air was thick with the smell of dung. Feces clung to their hooves, ground into the street. It stayed where it dropped. The putrid smell intermingled with the smell of ponies. My nose clinched, but the smell was already there. It was always there. They stunk of sweat and hair and judgement. Their breath laced with apples and whatever other foods they'd stuffed their repulsive faces with.

And as I stood their, gazing out at the sea of passing filth from my porch, one pony sought to catch my attention. She was pink, so very pink, bright enough to burn my eyes. She was the color of pepto bismol, though she had the inverse effect of making me sick to my stomach. I could smell her from here, her smell meandering with the cloud of stench all around, but still unique, like freshly-cooked pastries. It was so sickeningly sweet, I wanted to vomit.

"Hey, I've never seen a pony like you before," she yelled out while waving at me from her spot in the middle of the street. She looked so happy, down there mocking me. What joy it must have brought her pointing out my abnormalities as though the rest of these animals hadn't already noticed. She was the worst kind of pony, the kind that clearly found joy only in the pain of others because she herself is an empty shell. The kind of pony that looks in the mirror and knows they wasted their life and the only way they feel alive is by taking it out on others.

I felt my teeth clench as she trod through the crowd, on her way to me. She was trailed by a whole group of other ponies, each colorful and disgusting in their own way. Each a shining example of why ponies make me sick.

"What's your name?" She asked, and I felt my jaw clamp up even tighter. My limbs began shaking, and my vision was turning dangerously red. As though she even cared. She was just like all the others, acting nice to get information out of me, then throwing it back in my face and using it to hurt me. No, I wouldn't tell her a thing.

Still, she stayed nearby, a shit-devouring smile engulfing the majority of her pink face. "My name's Pinkie Pie, and these are my friends! Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity, Lyra, Vinyl Scratch, Octavia, Sweetie Bell, Scooterloop, Applebloom, Cheerilee, Zecora, Trixie, Spike, Mayor Mare, Derpy, Colgate, Berry Punch, Flitter, Cloudchaser, Maud Pie, Nurse Redheart, and all those other ones that don't have names but are in the background all the same. We came from Ponyville on a trip, but there's no ponies like you in Ponyville!"

The words rushed from her flapping lips like a stream of piss from my fucking dick. I wanted to gag as she listed the names, each more idiotic than the next, and I actually did gag when I looked at the ponies the names corresponded with. They were so grotesque. The world would be better without them around.

I felt my guts bunch up, my hatred clotting in my arteries and causing my heart to skip a beat. My vision once again turned red. I could feel the grip of the machete, held tight against my hoof. It felt so warm, and so hungry for blood. No, I was the hungry one. My stomach gurgled, goo from my glands spilling into the fleshy sack and scorching my insides and I felt foam dripping from my mouth as my tongue squeezed itself dry, emptying its contents like a sponge. The thick saliva overflowed from my mouth, dripping down my chin and neck.

I hardly even noticed what I was doing at first, but it just felt right, so I went with it, and before I knew it the machete was buried in Pinkie Pie's face, right between the eyes. The smile faded in a split second as it fell in two, bringing her whole body to the ground with it. Her face was peeled open like a split banana, and her tiny brain lay exposed for the world to see.

We all just stared for a second, the ponies in shock, and myself rejoicing that I'd finally gone through with it. Every day since I was a child, I'd dreamed of this day, and now it was even more glorious than I'd ever imagined. My tummy felt light as though a weight had been lifted. It wasn't hard to realize I managed to burn some of my extra hate goo reserves. It was but a fraction of what I had stored within my backup glands, but it felt amazing all the same. The rush of endorphins in my brain made my skin prick with a pleasing sensation, and I wanted more of it.

I couldn't just go back to my old life now. The ponies would never give me the privacy I desired. They'd hound me forever for this, then they'd make it out like I was the villain. Like I was some kind of monster. And the stupid masses of ponies would eat it all up. They'd call for my death even though they didn't even know me. They didn't care, the disgusting beasts sought only pain. Pain on others to ease the pain they felt themselves.

But perhaps that was one thing I inherited with my half-pony body, for at the moment, all I could think of was inflicting pain on these awful ponies. They hadn't broken from their shocked stupor before I, and so I struck again. Some stupid purple one with a dumb horn and wings. What, is a horn or wings not good enough for her? She needs both? Stuck-up bitch. With a swift cleave, I'd scalped her good, shearing the tiny horn right off her dumb face, along with a whole swath of purple flesh and hair. You see, pony horns are hollow and very brittle, filled with nerves instead of bone, and my machete was very, very sharp. I'd sharpened it every day, just for this moment.

The horn would grow back, sure, but it'd be excruciating, and seeing the shocked look on her face transform instantly into one of agony put a smile on mine. It was like Christmare morning, but with kittens instead of the caretakers at the orphanage. Such sweet kittens. So soft and innocent, with tiny, wet noses that gave the best kisses.

And with kittens still on my mind, I swung again. The blade passed through her cheeks, severing the muscle and leaving her bottom jaw dangling by threads of blood-gushing flesh. Her throat warbled as she let loose a scream. The sound of pain filled the air, and I realized I'd found a sound I hated even more than pony hooves on cobblestone. It was so loud and annoying, and all I wanted was to shut it up. So I did.

A stab through the throat put an end to her racket, and replaced it with an airy gurgle. The back of her throat pooled with crimson goo, and, in her last moment she burped it up, covering me in spots of her fluid before collapsing to the ground. Then they all started screaming. Every pony in the street all screaming at the tops of their lungs. They just stood their, wailing for all the world to hear. It was absolutely insufferable and I briefly wished I had ears like theirs so I could shut them flat against my head.

I hated it so much! I had to shut them up, if it was the last thing I did. My mouth opened, and I felt my own voice join theirs in a  gorilla roar, drowned out by their ear-splitting screech. I swung away with all my might, slicing them open, rending limbs and spilling organs, but they kept screaming. It was torture.

There was a light blue one with an ungodly mane. It was so many colors, and I hated every part of it. I put all my strength into a cut, raking my blade across her stupid face, cleaning the skin from her skull as though I was removing the toppings from a pizza. I cut a clean path from one ear to the other, leaving a deep gorge through her vulnerable eyes. By the time my machete had moved form her face, it had a large lump of flesh coating its blade.

The rainbow one fell forward, but I paid her no mind. My stomach gurgled, alerting me for the first time that I hadn't eaten all day. And the flesh from her face did remind me remarkably of a pizza. What the heck. Might as well try it. I moved my head forward and grabbed the hunk of skin, eyeball, and sinew between my teeth, munching it up further with my sharpened teeth.

It was actually pretty good.

But the screaming wasn't stopping. I had to pick up the pace. At this rate I'd go crazy long before the awful sound stopped. These ponies were insufferable. I moved to my right and sliced Octavia's filthy dirt pony neck in half with one slice. It slipped sideways from her body, rejoining the shit and mud in the street where it belonged. Her newly opened esophagus wasn't gonna give up without a fight, though, it seemed, and a geyser of chyme and blood spewed from the breach. It seemed the head was the only thing keeping all of her goo inside, and she slowly deflated as her body expelled its innards, raining gore down on every pony in the area.

I put my hands up to the sky, feeling absolutely great at I bathed in it. Like cleansing rain, I felt new. More alive than ever. But, just as quickly as the rain had started it stopped, and my euphoria drained away. I had to get it back! I had to! i moved forward, seeing the one they had called 'Fluttershy', screaming even louder than the rest. I had to stop her! And fast!

A swift swipe of my machete cut one of her legs from her body, causing her to collapse into a heap on the ground, still screaming. Why wouldn't she just stop?!

I had to make her stop. I had to find her voice box! I knew it was somewhere in her body, and I had to find it so I could turn it off. I moved over her, dropping my machete as I sized up her vulnerable belly. I knew it was in there somewhere. Ponies so foolishly kept all their guts in one place, and in such a vulnerable area as their tummies. I bent over, sinking my four-inch-long teeth into belly. The flesh was weak, like a tortilla, and easily gave way as I yanked back, tearing free a large hole in her, exposing the twisted intestines that lay beneath.

I knew it was there somewhere, but I didn't know where. I guess I'd just have to dig. I reached down, grabbing a whole mouthful of intestines before pulling them out, revealing but more guts beneath them. She was absolutely packed with organs, and it was only now I realized I didn't know what I was looking for. Any one of these could be her voice box!

I guess I'd just have to go digging. I put my head fully inside the hole in her flesh, tearing free mouthful after mouth full of organs. I didn't even bother pulling them free, and elected to just simply devour them instead. They were delicious.

It was only once my belly was full of her guts that she finally she up. Her body was as empty as Octavia's, looking like a yellow plastic bag. I burped, realizing I was absolutely chocked full of Flutterhsy guts. It was the best meal I'd had in a long time!

Oh, did I mention I could do magic? Because I can! I was so tired of these stupid ponies screaming. It was the worst experience in my whole life. Worse then when they called me names and pushed me in the mud as a kid. Worse than when they took my precious kittens. Clearly slicing them to pieces wasn't getting the job done fast enough. I'd have to resort to more desperate measures! I turned and punched off Sweetie Bell's head, launching it over the horizon.

I was actually one of the most powerful ponies in all of Equestria when I wanted to be. I simply had to put my mind to it. My mind, and my love of kittens. I reared on my back legs, raising my forelegs to the heavens, calling upon the power of cats everywhere. The divine kitten heaven above surely smiled upon me for I felt my very being filling with cute, happy energons. The magic of kittens was the most powerful of all magics, and now it was mine to command.

And so, with but a single thought, I summoned forth an entire armada of kittens. They came from alleys in droves, crawled from the sewers, and rained from the skies. Their numbers were enough to blot out the sun, and I loved every one of them. It was so beautiful I had to cry. I couldn't help myself.