A Killers Fate

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

After viewing Jake’s memory of that night, Luna felt exhausted. Not physically or magically, per se, being an alicorn doth have its privileges, no? No, her exhaustion was purely mental, a mental fatigue she hadn’t experience since her first venture into the dream world as Princess of the Night two thousand years ago.

Honestly, Luna knew she should go to Celestia at once and tell her what she just learned about their guest, but she simply couldn’t muster the will to fight her fatigue, let alone relive his memories.

Prior to her possession by the Nightmare and her subsequent banishment to the moon, Luna was the closest thing Equestria had to a warrior princess. For the protection of her little ponies and their livelihoods, Luna had seen and done things that Celestia hadn’t the stomach to do.

Jake’s memories, though? Not even in the lowest point of recorded pony history, the cold war (no pun intended) of the three pony tribes had such… atrocities been committed. That aside, she did, in fact, feel a sort of kinship with Jake, his own connection to the demented, psychotic part of his psyche, “Sandman”, was alarmingly similar to her own connection to the Nightmare.

Perhaps this strange sense of kinship was the reason behind the Princess of the Night’s desire to help the conflicted child.

“Tia will learn what I discovered tomorrow. Right now I just want to rest.”

No, she had no desire to pursue those memories until she had some rest. That, and Luna knew her sister wouldn’t hold it against her. Besides, Jake was locked away in a cell, surrounded by guards, and he had no magic that she knew of.

What’s the worst that could happen?

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

An hour ago a team, or is it squad? Nah, there’s fourteen of them, divided into three groups of four, with the last two standing around looking bossy as fuck.

Textbook example of a squad if I ever saw one!

Anyways, a big ass group of ponies stormed down here and took up various positions around my cell. One pony, a stallion I think given the muzzle and size, wasted no time barking out orders, like he was a fucking drill sergeant or something.

Well, it’s either a stallion or a really, REALLY butch mare.

Anyways, I’m no expert on military tactics, I’ve only read three or so books on the subject, but it looks like they’re trying to establish a cordon around me and my cell. Why? I have no fucking idea, it’s not like I can fucking escape!

After they settled into their positions, I then noticed, much to my annoyance, that just about all of them were eying me like I was a goddamn bundle of dynamite! One of the unicorns looked about half a second away from shitting hisself!

Now, I admit I felt the desire to commit horrific violence on my watchers, but thanks to my ‘sanity’ I knew that wasn’t going to help my case.

Besides, they’re safe outside of my cell anyways. How come nobody ever lets me have any fu-

No, no no no no NO! I am NOT that kind of person- animal- MONSTER anymore!

Right?

Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m sitting here, debating with myself on whether or not I want to brutally murder cutesy, colorful little fucking ponies! What the fuck ever, man.

I needed something to distract myself, so I did what I usually do when I’m alone, with no other way to entertain myself. I started masturbating singing under my breath.

I would later look on this day as a blessing, for I had finally found a non-violent outlet for my desire to commit violence! Everyone wins, right?

Well, I won, anyways. That counts for something!

Now, I knew a lot of songs, but there was only one song for this situation. I began tapping my foot on the ground, to get myself in rhythm for what I was about to do.

tap tap tap tap tap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap tap tap tap, tap tap tap tap

“What is he doing?”

I gave my babysitters a wide, toothy grin, which made them even more unnerved, before I started…

“Is it having a seizure?”

...slapping my knees in rhythm to the song I started singing.

“Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung…”

Then the strangest fucking thing happened.

“Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung, bung…”

The background music to the song started playing out of nowhere, and four of the fucking guards joined in!

“What the buck is going on?”

“How is this… thing tapping into the Music of Harmony?!”

Music of Harmony? Well, that answers my question of why I’m suddenly so good at singing. Also, it seems that some of my guards are women- or rather, mares! What can I say? The ladies love me! Still… the ‘Music of Harmony’? What, am I in a fucking kids show or something? Let’s see what I can do to de-harmonize this!

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream…”

My line was immediately followed by my quartet of harmonious slaves.

“Bung, bung, bung, bung...”

“Make her the cutest, that I've ever seen!”

“Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

Jeez, my harmonious slaves look pretty pissed! Can’t imagine why!

“Give me two knives like barbershop razors!”

Oh yeah, that’s why! They’re being forced to sing along with a fucking psycho!

“Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

“Then tell her that her sleepless nights are over!”

Oh, lawdy lawdy! Bossman looks horrified by my delightful improved lyrics! On the flipside, my harmonious slaves look like they want to put me to sleep!

“Sandman, I'm so alone, don't have nobody to call my own,”

Who’s awesome?! I’m awesome!

“Give me something to make her scream, Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream!”

I’m making some of these mares cry! Should I feel bad about this? Polls suggest… NO!

“Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

“Cease and desist at once, you- you monster!”

Oh, well since you said so, I guess I’ll just- NOPE!

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream! Make her the cutest, that I've ever seen!”

Oh, if looks could kill, bossman here would be facing an Article 118!

“Give her the word that I'm just a killer, then send her home with me, her sleepless nights are over!”

Gotta say, though, my harmonious slaves are doing quite a job with singing along! Maybe we could get a gig, traveling across this Candyland in a little caravan wagon that doubles as a stage!

“Mr. Sandman, I'm so alone, don't have nobody to call my own!”

I’m sure we’d be neck-deep in pussy in no time!

“Give me something to make her scream, Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream!”

Or, rather, horse pussy? ...Never mind.

“Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

“Mr. Sandman?”

“Yes?”

And now the boss-man, err boss-stallion just got involved! This keeps getting better and better!

“Give me a dream! Give her a pair of eyes with a nice panicked gleam!”

Cue the harmonious slaves!

“Give her a lonely heart like Pagliacci, and lots of wavy hair like Liberace!”

Sweet jesus, I can almost taste the hatred coming off of Boss-stallion!

“Mr. Sandman, give me someone to hold, would be so peachy before we're too old!”

Of course, his hatred pales in comparison to that of my harmonious slaves!

“So give me something to make her scream!”

“Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please!”

Time for the big finish!

“Mr. Sandman, bring us... a… Dream!”

“Bung, bung, bung, bung.”

And that’s how ya do it, folks! If I’m not put to sleep tonight or executed tomorrow, I’m never EVER fucking forgetting this!

--->>>Celestia<<<---

During the weekdays, Celestia opened the throne room of her castle for Solar court, giving her a solid eight hours to hear the petitions, requests, complaints and concerns of her little ponies. Truly, it was an excellent idea, but it had one major flaw.

Nobles.

Many of her so-called “commoner” ponies were intimidated by the presence of the usually holier-than-thou-art, haughty, “noble” ponies, so to see a pony with a constructive or helpful petition was a rare thing. Too rare, if you asked her, though nopony even bothered to do that anymore.

So, Celestia sat upon her throne, listening to Blueblood petitioning her for… something. In truth, his whining (and it no matter how Celestia tried to spin it, it was whining) went in one ear and out the other. Honestly, what was the pompous, self-obsessed twat he going on about?

Something about… expanding his mansion?

For the tenth time this month? Wait, wait, wait. It was only the eighth, and the month started on a Saturday, so how…

”I’m too motherbucking old to deal with this!”

And to that end, Celestia’s thoughts were revolving around her sister, rather than her pompous, spoiled nephew. Normally, when Celestia asked Luna to suss out the truth, she always reported her findings as quickly as possible. It was a tried and true system that had averted many a potential disaster, and kept Celestia from making bad, ill-informed decisions in the past.

Sadly enough, most of said decisions and disasters were caused by silver-tongued nobles ruled by their greed and lust for power over the “lesser” ponies.

Of course, the nobles of this age are barely any better, despite Celestia's best efforts to the contrary.

Sure, they’ve gotten a little clever, learned how to be subtle, but for the most part, they’re still pompous, stuck-up morons.

“I hope Lulu is alright.” Celestia worried, “Did she see something that distressed her? Or is it just mental fatigue? I could be either I suppose. Viewing memories and dreams is one of her inherent talents, but I would imagine that monitoring the dreams of a previously unknown creature is a mentally taxing process.”

All the while Blueblood prattled on, either ignorant of Celestia not paying him any attention, or thinking he could somehow use her inattention to his advantage.

”Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Celestia almost snorted contemptuously at her nephew as he tried his hardest to sell her on… something. What was it again? Oh yeah, his mansion. Try as he might, Blueblood has, at best, a decade experience with the useless, whiny darker side of Equestrian politics.

Celestia? Nearly two millennia. 1,793 years, to be exact, of experience in dealing with conniving nobles.

What really irked her about Blueblood, though, was the disgrace he brought upon his ancestors. From the beginning of her and Luna’s rule over Equestria, the Blue house was one of the rare noble families that actually cared for the “lesser” ponies, up until a century ago, that is.

Suppressing a yawn, Celestia lazily waved a hoof in her nephew’s direction.

“I’m sorry Blueblood, but I simply cannot allow you to expand your mansion, as doing so would force eleven families out of their own homes, and into the streets. Your mansion is already large enough as it is, nephew.” Celestia said in her patented motherly tone.

“But auntie!” Blueblood whined “It’s just some filthy commoners! I am a prin-”

”Oh, for bucks sake!”

“That is enough, Blueblood! I will not force ponies out on the street to satisfy your ego and incessant need to flaunt your wealth and position! If it was not for the good your ancestors have done for Equestria, you would be one of those so-called ‘filthy commoners’!” Celestia roared in the Royal Canterlot voice, or RCV for short.

Needless to say, the sight of the normally even-tempered Solar Diarch in a state of fury was more than enough to make Blueblood scamper out of the throne-room with his tail tucked firmly between his legs, and his ears pinned against his head. Celestia slumped down in a very un-princess-like fashion and closed her eyes. She hated yelling at her little ponies but Blueblood just…

Ugh.

“We still do not understand why you put up with that foal, dear sister.”

Celestia opened her eyes at the sound of Luna’s voice and frowned. The Lunar Diarch looked like she’d just got back from the Tartarus Spa and Resort; her eyes were bloodshot and drooping, her mane was in disarray, and her coat looked rough. Could it be a result of what she saw in Jake’s mind?

“Lulu! You look horrible!” Celestia exclaimed.

Rising from her throne, Celestia quickly pulled her exhausted sister into a wing-hug. Said hug served to not only offer comfort, but to keep Luna on her hooves. The poor mare looked like she was mere seconds away from falling over, dead asleep!

“We- I had trouble resting, is all.” Luna replied, trying to shrug off her disheveled state “But sister, I have some… rather alarming things to tell you about our guest!”

Celestia silently nodded for Luna to continue, knowing that this information would very likely change her mind regarding Jake, for better or worse.

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

I think my conscience is getting to me, ‘cause after I tormented those guards with my song and making them sing along I decided to leave them alone.

But fuck their boss, asshole’s been glaring murder and mutilation at me since he got pulled into it.

Don’t hate on me! Hate on that “Music of Harmony” bullshit, goddamn it! Stupid fucking ponies and your stupid fucking magic shit!

But other than the occasional one-finger salute sent their way, I tried to keep to myself. Mostly because the boss cast a spell or something that nullified the “Music of Harmony” around my cell or some shit like that. I mean, fucking magic, right? Really, I did feel bad for taking them on a trip through my mind, but...

Boredom won out in the end. That, and I really don’t like the way that bossman is glaring at me. I mean, I'm probably fucking boned anyways, right? What have I got to lose?

“Hey, you! Yeah you! Bossy, butch lookin’ motherfucker! C’mere, I wanna tell you something!”

He snorted angrily and stalked over to my cell.

Hook.

“What do you want, beast?”

I adopted a stereo inbred hick accent as I motioned for him to come in closer.

“What’s yer name, sweetheart?”

“My name is of no concern to you! All you need to know is that I am in charge of keeping you locked up, beast!”

Ooh, he’s angry!

Line.

“C'mere, would ya? Just a little closer?”

As soon as he stepped within my arm's reach, I cupped his chin, rubbed his cheek with my thumb, and gave him the most lecherous smile I could muster, considering I was aiming it at a dude.

“I think yew got a purrty mouth, butchy!”

...And motherfuckingsinker!

And his eyes just turned red. Golly gee, he’s mad at me!

Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for Butchy, a certain white wingycorn stepped in before things could get violent. Honestly, that kinda disappointed me, a good fight is just the thing I need to get the blood pumping!

Besides, that whole “by the books” feel to Butchy just pisses me off something fierce! Laws were made to be broken! Rules were created to be ignored! Governments were established to be overthrown! Anarchy! ANARCHY!

Or something like that.

“Captain Armor, you and your squad are relieved of your duty. I wish to speak with our guest in private.”

That’s more like it! Butchy looked like he really wanted to disobey that order, but in the end, he caved like a little bitch. Oh, if I only had my kit I’d make him motherfucking squeal like a white little piggi-

Goddamn it! Why am I thinking these things?! What the fuck happened to being a rabid dog that needed to be put down?! Fuckin' whatever, I guess I’ll be finding out about that soon!

Nonetheless, I put on a smug smile as Butchy and his cunts stooges filed out, but it disappeared the second I turned my attention to Celestia.

Honestly I’ve never had a mother (foster or otherwise) give me a disappointed look. Don't get me wrong, it's not from a lack of stupid, defiant things done on my part. No, it’s mainly because all of my foster mothers were trying to “beat some discipline” into me. Well, when their husbands weren’t venting their frustrations over their failings in life on me, that is.

But... I imagine this is what it would feel like to disappoint one’s mother. Despite that I find it oddly... soothing?

Eh, I’ll think over it later. If there is a ‘later’, that is...

“So… what’s up Celestia?” I ask nervously.

Celestia shook her head and snorted slightly, which made me smirk. I think she secretly found what I did amusing herself, but can’t let it show!

“Must you provoke Captain Armor so?” Celestia asked, her tone caught between amusement and exasperation.

“Yes, yes I must.” I said in a mock noble tone, “I find having someone stare at me with murder and mutilation in their eyes to be most off-putting.”

“Oh?”

“Besides… it’s not my fault the ‘Music of Harmony’ pulled them into my personal rendition of 'Mr. Sandman'.” I added dropping the mock noble tone.

“I take it that wasn’t the original song, then?” Celestia asked, a curious look on her face.

“Fuck no! Humans can be pretty fucked up but I’m pretty sure no one would make a song that twisted.” I said, scratching my chin. “Well, except for me, that is.”

Celestia hmm's as she looks me over. Honestly, it felt like she was staring past the flesh, and into my blackened, shriveled soul. Not the prettiest thing to look at, really.

After what felt like hours of uncomfortable silence and watching, Celestia gave me an almost imperceptible nod, apparently having decided on something. What that is exactly, I haven’t a fucking clue.

But... judging by that gleam in her eye, it promises to be highly amusing to her and torturous to me.

Probably. I dunno. I guess I'll be finding out if the wingycorn is a fucking sadist behind locked doors!

“After a lengthy discussion with my sister, we have decided that you can be redeemed.” Celestia paused and gave me a searching look, “But, I have some rules and conditions you will need to accept before we can begin your reformation.” Celestia said.

Seriously. I don’t like that look in her eyes.

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly, eh?” Celestia gave me a wry grin and a slow nod.

I can’t help but to think that quote was made just for this situation.

“First and foremost, if they are willing, I will be putting you under the supervision of Twilight Sparkle and her friends. I believe that they are the most likely group to aid you in your reformation.”

Twilight… Sparkle? Kill me. Please!

“Second, you will not attempt to own, or even come in contact with any form of weaponry. This does not pertain to tools that can be used as weapons, such as an axe, sledge hammer, or any other tool you are required to use in any line of work you pursue. You are not, however, allowed to own anything that could be used as a weapon.”

Well, damn, there goes my plans! I was totally gonna go to Ammunation, buy a chaingun and start killing hookers, gang-bangers and pedestrians. Wait, does this Candyland even have hookers? Or gangs? More importantly, why the fuck do I care?!

“Third, you will find some form of employment. While I am willing to give you a second chance amongst my subjects, I will not have you, or anyone else, living off of charity. I have worked long and hard to instill a hard work ethic in my little ponies, and I have no intentions to let those efforts go to waste.”

That kinda goes without saying, Celestia. Besides, I’m not really all that lazy.

Well, except for Sundays. Otherwise I’m busy, busy, busy!

It’s hard work stalking my victims, maintaining my kit, choosing the most exquisite tortures-

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!

“And last, but not least, you will not taunt, goad, or otherwise provoke any of my little ponies into attacking you. If you are attacked without provocation, you will not seriously harm any of my subjects in defending yourself, and you will not cripple or otherwise maim them, or you will have me to answer to. I will make allowances for coming to the defense of others, but my rules still stand.”

So, I guess that means no more trolling, then. Damn.

“To that point, if I find that you have unjustly harmed- let alone killed any of my subjects, especially the six I hope to send you with, I promise that you will receive what you did to them, tenfold. Do I make myself clear?”

Scary lady- mare! Mental note; Do NOT fuck up!

“Uh, y-yeah! Sure!”

“This is the first day of your new life, Jake. Equestria was founded on the values of generosity, forgiveness and friendship, and I suggest you make the most of it. I will tell you what I told Twilight not too long ago; try to make some friends.”

That’s going to be kinda hard. Y’know, what with me being a unstable, paranoid psychopath.

“With that out of the way, welcome to the first day of your reformation!” Celestia said cheerfully.

For some reason, I feel terrified.

--->>>Celestia<<<---

Two hours of questions, answers and explanations later, Celestia left the dungeon in a rather light-hearted mood. To her surprise, Jake didn’t seem at all troubled by the rules and conditions laid before him. He was surprised he was even given the chance to begin with!

Celestia considered the fact that Jake realizes and regrets how much of a monster he was, and to a certain extent, still is, to be a good sign, though.

“Permission to speak freely, Your Majesty?”

Captain Shining Armor, on the other hoof, didn’t. To be fair, Celestia couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. Especially when she knew Armor was eavesdropping.

“Granted.”

Not that the conversation was private, but still, it is rather rude.

“What the buck are you thinking, allowing that beast to roam free, let alone with my little sister!?” Shining Armor shouted, slamming an armoured hoof into the stone floor. ”So help me, if he hurts my Twily-”

Celestia didn't turn to face him, but the sharpness of her tone carried all the warning that Shining Armour needed.

“Hold your tongue, Captain.”

Shining Armour complied, but stood his ground nonetheless. He wasn't there to protect his little sister during Discord's coup, but damned if he was going to let another psycho have the chance to hurt his baby sister!

“Captain Armor, I acknowledge and understand your concerns. However, if there’s any pony that can help him recover, it is Twilight and her friends.” Celestia said patiently, “Do you have so little faith in your sister?”

That brought Shining Armor up short. In truth, he had all the confidence in the world in Twilight, but it was ‘Jake’ that Shining Armor didn’t trust.

The fact that the beast made him and his fellow guards take part in that horrifying song didn’t have anything to do with it.

Or the fact that the beast told him he had a pretty mouth, either.

Honest!

Celestia glanced at Shining Armor and gave him a comforting smile, something that always managed to make the stallion relax.

“I know you do not trust Jake, nor do you have much reason to do so in the first place. However, I ask that you have faith in Twilight and her friends. I know that they will be instrumental in helping Jake recover what he lost.” Celestia said softly.

“And what is that, princess?” Shining asked curiously.

“His humanity.” Celestia said solemnly

“Your majesty, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Shining asked.

“Jake wasn’t born a monster, Captain, he was made into one. His life has been naught but tragedy and horror. That abuse and trauma drove him to commit the atrocities he has both confessed, and shown remorse over.”

“But-”

“There's nothing like suffering at the hooves of another to bring out one's own mean streak.” Celestia said simply.

Shining Armor fell silent in response. If the princess saw something in ‘Jake’ then so be it. Her word was his command, and that was good enough for him.

But that still didn’t mean he had to like the beast though, or the fact that it would be staying with his baby sister.

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

I closed my eyes as I laid in my cot, so generously enlarged by Celestia due to my size, processing the information Celestia dumped on me, and the terms of my ‘reformation’.

Regarding the information? It certainly was enlightening. While Candyland- uh Equestria was not the utopia I had initially assumed it to be, the amounts and kinds of violence and hate I knew on Earth, were unheard of here. Child abuse; both sexual and physical, was nearly non-existent, something I can honestly say I am thankful for.

But that doesn’t mean it never happens.

Celestia mentioned one recent case involving a pegasus filly named Scootaloo, who had been effectively crippled by her drunkard of a father. To think of the fact that the filly may never be able to soar or even fly like healthy pegasi, makes my blood boil.

I may be a torturer.

A rapist.

A cold-blooded killer.

But I never.

EVER.

Hurt children like that!

Even when I thought I was saving them from the pain and misery of the world, I was as quick and painless as I could be about it.

I think Celestia saw the sudden surge of killing intent, so she informed me that Scootaloo’s father, ironically named Dead Beat, was sentenced to life in Purgatory, a maximum security prison in the middle of the Appleloosan desert, very likely being passed around the cell block by his fellow inmates.

Heh… decided the inmates needed a new cocksleeve, did you?

How delectably cruel of you, Celestia!

But, then again, abusers get what's coming to them in the end.

Get it, get it? Heh, I made a funny!

Anyways, the most important thing she told me was that I couldn’t own any weapons, and I could only handle sharp objects if my job required it. Yeah, okay, like that’s gonna stop me from getting my sharps, should I feel the need.

And of course, I would have a ‘keeper’ that would double as my one of my ‘reformers’, a bookish, nerdy little unicorn mare named Twilight Sparkle.

Heh… that fucking name!

I’d also be living with her in a rural town called Ponyville, no more than twenty miles away from Canterlot, well within range of Celestia.

Although, I doubt she would even need to come after me. Hell, she supposedly moves the fucking sun, right? She could probably just pull some Gears shit and drop the fucking hammer on me, from the comfort of her throne room!

And while I'm at it, what the fuck is up with all these goddamn horse puns!? Seriously! Ponyville? Canterlot? Fillydelphia? Oh, and my favorite one, Detrot. Fuck me, right? I wonder if Detrot is as much of a shithole as Detroit is?

Of course, the most pressing matter on my mind is whether or not Celestia would inform this Twilight of EVERYTHING she's learned about me.

No doubt the mare would be too terrified to be around me, let alone have me live with her, if they did so. But if they don’t inform her of what she’s gonna be taking home, how the fuck is she gonna ‘reform’ me?

Whatever. I should get some sleep, I’m meeting this Twilight Sparkle and her friends tomorrow.

And I have a feeling I’ll need all the rest I can get!

Look, God, I know I’m not your favorite person but… can you please cut me a little slack?

Probably not, but a guy can dream, right?