Dreams of a Killer (Edited)

--->>>Luna<<---

Princess Luna has walked through many dreams; the dreams of ponies, dragons, gryphons, zebras, and many more. She has seen the best and worst of all species. Seen the most terrifying of nightmares, and the most deranged and horrifying of fantasies.

Yet Luna is proud to admit she had almost never seen any signs of immense abuse, not to say abuse is non-existent it’s just minor at most. But there are exceptions to this, exceptions to prove the rule.

Of course, Luna is referring to the crippled pegasus filly Scootaloo. Even after being away from her abusive home for nearly a year now, she still has nightmares, and still cannot fly.

But Jake the Human’s early years shaped him in ways that shouldn’t have happened to anyone.

Consciously, he became a reclusive bookish introvert much like Twilight Sparkle was at one time, only far worse.

But subconsciously, his abusers inadvertently sowed the seeds of a monster that would become the Sandman, the most infamous and legendary serial killer in history!

Honestly, these humans are so utterly barbaric and savage to each other, it’s amazing that haven’t gone extinct!

Luna took a breath and attempted to calm herself. Needless to say, it was rather difficult.

“Okay now, let’s see if he really does want to have a second chance.”

She went to the memory of his final, and possibly most gruesome, murder. In this memory she would learn if he truly wished for that second chance.

She might also see if any lingering remnants of the Sandman still exist.

If they do, well, there’s not much she could do. Though Jake and the Sandman’s situation is a much darker parallel of her connection with Nightmare Moon… their situations were different.

Very, very different.

For one, Nightmare was a demonic spirit that corrupted her through her own petty jealousy, something easily cleansed by the Elements of Harmony. However, while the Sandman is very much a manifestation of hatred, it’s also a natural part of his psyche.

And to remove such a major part of his psyche could only do more harm then good. Best case scenario, he would have the intelligence of a yearling.

Worst case scenario? He’d slip into a vegetative state and eventually die.

Her musings finished, Luna concentrated before forcing the dreamscape to conform to her desire.

She desires to see the Sandman’s last massacre.

--->>>Jake<<<---

I looked back and forth between the parents with a vicious grin on my face. For an older couple, they put up quite the fight.

But that’s okay; I rather enjoy the sport!

Besides, the fighters are oh so much more satisfying, the more energy they have the more satisfying it is to help them sleep!

The children ran away as I played with their parents, it’s okay though.

They’re just tired, and need to go to sleep…

Which they will, after I’m finished toying with their parents, that is. I haven’t even gotten started on them yet!

But, it would seem that they are wearing entirely too much, the clothes would do nothing but soak up all the glorious, vibrantly crimson blood!!

With a rather joker-esque grin I started to cut their clothing off. I bent my head down and whispered into lard-ass’s ear as I cut his nightshirt off.

”Let’s put a smile on that face!”

The father first, a fat slovenly thing that seems to be more blubber than actual flesh. It goes without saying that I leave the slob’s pants on.

Ugh… this guy looks like four hundred pounds of clogged arteries and cholesterol! Hell, apparently even the wife agrees with me- what the fuck?

I lean over the wife, is… that make up?

Who the fuck wears makeup to bed?

I grabbed a piece of the slob’s shirt and start to gently rub off the makeup. After all, why waste good suffering when the show hasn’t started yet??

Wait a second, is… that a… FUCKING BRUISE!?

Oh… I’m going to take my time with you fatass.

You’re going to squeal like a stuck fucking piggy… and I’m going to enjoy every second of it!

I looked around, and saw something that made me grin with sadistic joy; an ironing board!

And if they have an ironing board, they must have an iron! Excellent! Don’t want ol’ fatass here bleeding out too fast after all!

“Now don’t you move!” I looked over at the wife “Trust me… you’re going to enjoy what’s coming.”

I stood up and started to snoop around, because why the fuck not? I love snooping around! You never know what you’ll find!

As I snooped I finally started noticing how… strange this house is.

No windows, the walls were obviously soundproofed, and there’s a lingering chemical smell in the air… what is that?

...Is that… bleach and ammonia??

...Well… this certainly isn’t helping fatass at all…

Hmm…  fatass really doesn’t want me to open this storage closet… wonder why?

I open the door and for the first time that night my smile fell.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a bloodthirsty, psychotic bastard… but this shit… this shit is just monstrous!!

Handmade fucking torture tools!?

Seriously, what in the actual fuck is this!

I thought this guy just smacks her around! I didn’t expect this guy to be a fucking sadist!

Cat ‘o’ Nine tails, the Pear of Anguish, an Iron fucking Maiden!?

Seriously, what the fuck? This guy’s worse than I am!

Then I had at idea, an awful idea.

A splendidly awful idea.

Grabbing the cat ‘o’ nine tails, I approach the fatass, intending to- hold on a second… how does this work?

*whip-CRACK*

“AAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!”

Oh. That’s how! I’ll be goddamned if that ain’t awesome!! I need me one of these!

*whip-CRACK*

“AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!”

Oh and look at that! This has spurs on the ends!

Oooh! Look at that lovely bloodsplatter! Hell, if I keep this up, I might be able to recreate one of those pointless fucking rorschach tests on the wall!

Hmm, need to find that iron so he doesn’t bleed out and die on me, cause this bastard isn’t going to get the easy way out.

I want him awake for the WHOLE routine!

I put the whip aside and resume my search for the iron. I mean, sure I could just heat up a skillet and do it but… I’ve never used an iron to cauterize a wound before.

Would it even work?

Guess I’ll find out.

Ten minutes… ten FUCKING minutes I wasted, ten minutes when it was in the fucking closet the whole goddamn time!

Always in the last place you look, right?

Letting out an irritated sigh, I plugged the iron in and let it start to heat up. Now what do I do?

I don’t want to start on the woman yet, after all she looks like she’s enjoying her bastard husband’s suffering, and I’ve never had an audience before.

It’s a rather novel sensation, having my sadistic skills to be appreciated.

She still going to die though, though it’ll probably be quick and relatively painless.

...Maybe.

“So lady… how long you been this fat fuck’s torture doll?”

Yeah, so I talk to my victims… so fucking what!? It ain’t like they’re gonna be able to turn me in, heheheh.

“T-three years today.”

Wow, just wow! Three years? Of this shit??

Either this fat fuck knows a crooked doc that keeps this shit on the down-low, or he was a respectable doctor at one time

Personally, I like the crooked doc theory better. The idea of this fat, sadistic fuck putting innocent folks under the knife makes my skin crawl.

And that's saying something!

“You’re enjoying tubby’s suffering... aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question so much as it was me stating the obvious. No idea why, but it shocked me to see her agree so easily. Fuck, she’s even grinning at me!

“Well, why don’t you consider this an anniversary present, then? From me, to fatass, to you, with love!”

Honestly, she looks like she either wants to fuck me or marry me.

And with that, I’m seriously debating on keeping her now…

Hell, I’m pent up as it is. Maybe I’ll tie her down and have my way with her, then revel in her betrayal as I slit her throat. As it turns out, consent isn’t retroactive, especially not when they’re dead!

“So, any requests then?”

She honestly looked thoughtful! Oh, it just keeps getting better and better!

“Any request that doesn’t require me to release you.”

She pouted! She fucking POUTED at me! Argh, my black heart bleeds!

See, even I can make a funny!

“...Well... waterboarding is out. What if I… ooh! What if you remove his fingernails with pliers?” She offered.

Ok, I seriously don’t know if I’m sporting a murder boner or a regular boner right now! Probably a little of both!

Or rather a lot of both, if the way my jeans are tenting outwards is any indication.

“...If didn’t know I couldn’t feel love, I’d honestly think I that was in love with you right now!”

Did… she just blush? She seriously blushed from a compliment coming from a psychotic serial killer that has not only been brutally torturing her husband, but asking for ideas!?

This bitch must be as deranged as I am! That settles it though, I don’t do well with competition. She will just have to die! Of course, I’ll give her a hot beef injection or ten before I off her, might as well give her a reward for being a good to-be murder victim.

“So… where are the pliers, then?”

Seconds later I’m staring at the pliers. Course, they were in that goddamn closet. If those things were a snake…

Shaking my head, I grabbed the pliers, desperately trying not to imagine what the fat fuck used them for. Hey, even I get nightmares… hard to believe isn’t it? The stuff of nightmares… having nightmares. Funny how that works.

Once I got started on fatso, time started flying by, whether it was just a couple minutes or hours I’m not too sure really, but you know what they say; time sure flies when you’re having fun!

I whipped him raw, removed finger and toe nails, forced him to eat them, gave him a little electroshock therapy, removed his eyelids, castrated him and forced him to eat his own tiny dick, then spent ten minutes being violently ill, followed by that Chinese needle torture that I read about one time.

And then, when I’d reduced him to a pitiful, whimpering pile of fat and agony, I pulled out the piece de la resistance!

I forced him to watch me fuck his wife like a dog in heat.

Apparently she developed a thing for restraints, cause she loved it! She’s a goddamn good lay too… almost reconsidered not killing her.

“Okay… now what else can I do to you?”

Almost.

The fat fuck, at that point, was nothing but a broken shell of a man, begging to be put out of his misery.

As if it’d be that easy! Mercy is a virtue, and it just so happens that I possess neither of those.

But… I honestly don’t know what else I could do to him? I’ve physically, psychologically, and spiritually broken him.

He didn’t even make a sound as I fucked his wife like a back-alley whore!

This is seriously the most disappointed I’ve been in a while! That newly wed couple a month back had way more fight in them! Of course, they were ”in love”, or whatever, desperate to survive and live their lives out! A pity, really, they were only a couple years older than I…

But such is the world. Besides, I don’t need to reminisce on the screams of victims past, I have two to attend to right now!

So back to fatass… sure, I could fuck his wife again but… I need to know this abusive, sadistic fuck is suffering! It’s just not as fun otherwise!

So, seeing no other option, and with no small amount of regret, I cut him from ear to ear.

I shit you not I think that fat fuck actually thanked me, something that pissed me off to no fucking end!

Huh… I just realised I never cut out his tongue! Damn it!

“Now… what to do to you?”

The slut was probably hoping that I’d take her again, but I didn’t know if I wanted to give her that satisfaction.

After all, it is her turn.

“I know you’re wanting another go, probably over the fat fucks corpse, but…” I start to grin “...It’s your turn, sweetheart!”

The look of betrayal would’ve probably hurt more if I wasn’t a heartless, psychotic serial killer. If anything… it just made me even more eager!

“Don’t worry… I won’t feel a thing!”

Once again, I lost track of time, something I really need to get control of, but I had fun still!

I choked her out and slapped her awake well over a dozen times, I had to remove her shirt to do so which made me wish the fat fuck was alive so I could torture him more. Her once-soft breasts were a roadmap of pain and abuse, both old and new! Scars, cigar burns and shallow stabwounds crisscrossed her torso and arms like a fucking patchwork quilt!

No wonder she wears such conservative fucking clothing!

Now, a “normal” person would’ve probably stopped right there, out of pity or a desire to help.

Me? I think it’s already been established that I am far from “normal". But regardless, I did pity her, but in a different way.

I slit her throat like I did to her husband, giving her as gentle a smile as I could as she drifted away.

I pitied her, so I helped her the only way I could. A mercy killing.

“Shhh, hush now… just close your little eyes and go to sleep.” I whisper softly “Your kids will be with you soon.”

I couldn’t help but to sigh as I stood up. While the husband was satisfying, the wife… just wore me down. She was by far the most mentally exhausting victim I’ve ever done. I felt something that felt like… regret, remorse, but that couldn’t be, it just couldn’t! After all, I was helping them go to sleep!

Man… wonder if they have some beer in the fridge?

I lick the blood off my fingers as I wander into the kitchen and open the fridge. Even more fucking disappointment awaits me when I see the contents of the fridge. Beer, ketchup, mustard and mouldy cheese. Wow… that fat bastard drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon? Fucking hipster.

It’s funny, I imagined him as more of a Coors man. Whatever, beer is beer, even if it tastes even shittier than usual.

I shrugged as I popped the cap off and took a light drink. I fucking hate bottles. If you knock them back too fast, they foam up real bad! At least with a can you can slam it down!

I sit at the kitchen table and slowly sip at my beer without a goddamn care in the world. I’m a smart cookie, you see, I cut the phone lines earlier so I don’t have to worry about the police or anything.

And them profilers say psychopaths are incapable of planning ahead! Ha, I say!

But break-time is over. Better go find the kids and finish them off. I grabbed two more bottles and trudged back into the master bedroom, sitting on the bed as I started on my second bottle.

I glance over at the two corpses laying there. Serene. Boring. Hmm… while I have no problem desecrating the dead… I honestly can’t bring myself to mess with the wife.

“...I always wanted to play doctor.” I mused as I glanced at the dead husband. Nah, not him. I’d probably end up pulling out more fat than organs.

“...But I really don’t want to torment the wife’s dead body. She’s been through enough hell as it is.”

Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place!

In the end I decided to just fuck with the husband, you know, the usual, dismemberment and the like. Fun!

Of course, I was inspired by the Evil Dead for the dismemberment! Such a beautiful movie, although the whole “Evil Forest Rapes the Woman” scene kinda disturbed me.

Yeah, imagine that! Something disturbing moi? I’m just chock full of surprises, I am.

After I finished giving lard-ass his “special treatment” I decided to give the tormented wife the respect she never got in life. I threw her over my shoulder and trudged to the bathroom to clean her off.

The fact that it eliminates any and all evidence of our sexual escapades is a pleasant bonus!

After she’s squeaky clean, I take her back to the master bedroom and lay her on the bed. Scratching my cheek, I decide to cover her with the blanket, a makeshift death shroud. That’s when I noticed the sound of panicked breathing.

Ah! My little victims hid in the closet! No doubt eager for me to help them sleep!

No, I’m really not that crazy, but I like making people think I am! Nevertheless, I had them cornered, and it was time to finish them off. Quick and painless, the usual for children. No point in making them endure some of the torments I’d had to deal with, I’m not that much of a monster.

Yet.

I stalked towards the closet door, careful to make sure that each footstep was a solid one, the heels of my steel-toed boots thumping against the hardwood floor as I slowly advanced on my little victims.

“It’s okay children, you don’t need to be afraid of me! I just helped your mommy and daddy sleep, that’s all-”

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*

The closet door opened, giving me a look at my executioner, a young boy holding a smoking handgun in his trembling hands. Then I turned my attention to the six bloody holes in my chest.

Huh… well, that’s unexpected!

I guess it’s true that your life does flash before your eyes when you’re dying.

I didn’t hear the police storming in.

I didn’t notice the EMT’s carrying me off.

All I could think of… was the guilt… why am I feeling this? I hadn’t felt it before.

I… am I… feeling guilty… for killing so many?

But… I… I was helping them! I… they… they needed help… I helped them sleep!

But… I… am I a monster? Did all those people… see me as a monster!?

NO...I’m not a monster!! I… I saved them… I saved them from abuse! From suffering!

I… I… am I… a mad dog? Yes… I’m a monster… that needed to be put down… that boy…

That… clever… clever boy…

He… stopped… me…

Such… a… clever… clever… little…

--->>>Luna<<<---

Luna sat on her rump with tears in her eyes, horrified and saddened beyond belief.

Jake… this human… how could such a thing happen!?

An innocent child, twisted into a monster infinitely more brutal and sadistic than Nightmare Moon and Sombra could have ever dreamed to be!

She needed to double his guard, then talk to her sister immediately! A being such as him certainly posed a great danger to their little ponies!

After she pulled herself together, that is. No point in discussing the fate of another sentient being while emotionally distraught, no matter how sadistic, cruel or downright evil he may seem.

“Captain Armour! Double the guard presence around the human’s cell at once, and maintain six additional pegasi and unicorns in reserve at all times. We cannot trust this creature yet.”