Achroma

If you’re ever considering going into the profession I’m in, one rule you need to know is “wash the hell out of your hooves and wings.” You know, if you have time to. Of course, you often only have a few seconds to execute your objective and get out of there before any cops show up. But if you do have time, make sure you get washed. Because let me tell you, it’s incredibly difficult to fly at top speed when your feathers are soaked in blood.

Ah damn I forgot to introduce myself. The name’s Rainbow Dash, the fastest flyer in Equestria, and, as of late, the most notorious serial killer as well. Yeah that wasn’t a mistranslation. I’m a murderer, and I hate to say it... but I’m proud of it, too. Now I DO NOT hurt innocent ponies, okay? That’s not how I roll. My targets are criminals. Murderers, rapists, escaped convicts, even down to the most petty of robbers. THOSE are my targets. Alright, so I don’t go as far as killing the most petty of robbers. Though I do enjoy taking the time to put a nice scare into those from time to time, I often focus on the big threats to the safety of Equestrians.

You’re probably wondering how this whole thing started. Well, there’s no cops on my tail right now, so I guess I’ve got time for that story....

It was late one night at Ponyville. I’d hurt my wing kinda bad that day practicing some new tricks, and I would be grounded until the next day, so I was walking from Sweet Apple Acres back to Twilight’s huge tree castle thing. I wasn’t too thrilled about that castle at first, and I especially didn’t like how Princess Celestia wanted me, Twilight, and all our friends to live in it permanently. Cloudsdale is my true home, after all. But after checking out the castle and where I would sleep, I was amazed. It was roomy, the bed was comfy as hell, and there was already a plethora of Wonderbolts memorabilia in it, just like my home in Cloudsdale. I still wasn’t going to live in that castle on a permanent basis, but it still seemed like somewhere I wouldn’t mind staying if I got grounded for some reason. (I get injured while flying a lot, if you can believe that. That’s just how a daredevil rolls.)

So, like I was saying, I was on my way there from Sweet Apple Acres. Again, it was really late, and there was almost nopony out on the streets I was cantering down. I might not look like it, but there are occasions when I enjoy a nice, quiet stroll with nopony around, no sounds, just me and the quiet plodding sound my hooves make. (I can’t let anypony know that, of course. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.) The only problem was the exact time and place that I had decided to take this stroll. While walking down one of the empty streets, I thought I heard something. I turned around quickly and got ready to defend myself. And I had quite a fight in front of me, for the source of the sound was... a can that fell in an alley and was rolling about.

“Probably just a cat,” I told myself as I calmed down. I then turned around and was about to walk off, but it was then that I suddenly felt two hooves grip me, one around my neck and one around my mouth, and pull me into the alley.

“I ain’t no cat, little missy,” the stallion who gripped me said. Right off the bat, I could tell two things about him. One, he was totally a creeper. Don’t ask me how exactly I knew that, but I could just tell from the tone of his voice. There’s just something indescribable about that voice you hear from the criminals on Peace and Harmony: Special Victims Unit that you can always make out. (You know, that cop show that shows both the criminal getting arrest and the court case. NO! I don’t watch that show! I was... in the same room when Twilight had it on once.) Plus there was the fact that he was levitating a knife to my throat, which is how I figured out the second thing about him, which was he was a unicorn. I tried making him loosen his grip but the knife was pressed firmly against my neck, the blade drawing a little bit of blood. He let his hoof down away from my mouth but the knife was still against my skin so screaming my lungs out was not an option. Time to pull out the big guns…. by boasting.

“You’d better let me go,” I said, trying to sound tough. “I’m friends with Princess Twilight Sparkle, you know!”

“Are you now?” the stallion asked, and I could tell he was smiling. He rubbed my belly which normally would have felt good if I actually LIKED him but this rub felt… rough. Very aggressive. This… did not bode well for me. “Tell you what. You let me do my thing, and I won’t go after your friends next.”

He did NOT just threaten my friends! That was it. It was fighting back time, knife against my throat or not. I head butt the stallion right in the nose and heard the crunching sound of his nose being broken…. To be honest that sound nowadays makes me get a small rush.

“YOU DO NOT THREATEN MY FRIENDS!” I roared at him before he tackled me.

“Who are you to tell me otherwise?!” he asked as he pinned me to the ground. I saw his horn light up, indicating that he was about to levitate his knife back to him. Quickly, I gave him another headbutt, and I know for a fact this one hurt. But I couldn’t leave it at that. Twilight and Applejack had given me one or two self-defense lessons in the past, just in case I found myself in a situation I couldn’t quite handle through my standard means. (Kicking, flying, and bragging, to be exact.) I didn’t pay much attention, of course, but one lesson that did stick out was how to disable a unicorn’s magic. While the stallion was stunned, I quickly removed my hoof from underneath his and punched him as hard as I could right on his horn. Unless this guy was tough and had some rigorous magic training (which I could tell he wasn’t and didn’t), his magic would be out of the picture for the time being. A few minutes would be all I needed to run out of there, make a beeline for the castle, and warn Twilight of the situation, right? Honestly, that plan would have worked. Unless he quickly recovered, gripped my tail with his teeth, and pulled me back into the alley, nearly throwing me into the wall. So much for running while the damage dealt was small. (For me, at least.)

I turned and saw the angry expression on the stallion’s face. I knew this guy wouldn’t stop hounding after me and that the royal guard would more or less be wondering about my dead body if I ran away… but I DON’T run away. I charged him and was primed to tackle him to the ground and proceed to knock him unconscious, but I had to stop myself just before I leapt when I saw that he had picked his knife back up with his hoof and was getting ready to jump at me with it. I quickly changed tactics and got ready to defend myself from his charge. He leapt right at me, knife leg outstretched. A little known fact about pegasi is that we have a natural flow and rhythm in our movements. As gay as that sounds, it does come in handy in situations like this. Without missing a beat, I gripped his knife hoof right at the midsection of his leg with one of my hooves, and used my other hoof to knock the knife to the side. I then turned around and gave him a solid kick that knocked him backwards quite a bit. I then picked up the knife that fell out of his hoof. To this day, I have no idea what I was originally going to do with that knife. Maybe hold it to him and force him to surrender and turn himself in or something? I don’t know. All I do know is what I wound up doing with that knife. Despite getting knocked so far backwards, the guy charged at me once again. I tried to hold my hoof out to stop him, but it was in that split second that I forgot what was being held in that hoof.

SHINK was the only noise I heard, and it was right then that realization dawned on me. The guy had an expression on his face that was well beyond startled and probably closer to “Holy crap, that did not just happen.” Both of us looked down at the same time to see that, sure enough, the knife was lodged in his chest, all the way down to the hilt. I pulled the knife out at the same time that he backed away, blood already pouring out of the wound. He tried to use his hooves to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. While he struggled with his wound, I could only look down at the blade. Coated in fresh blood. But more than that, coated in blood that I drew from this guy. I was the one who stabbed him. I was the one who looked up for just a moment to see the guy twitching and squirming. He was about to scream when I placed a hoof in his mouth. Is that a little sadistic? Possibly. But I was panicking, and I REFUSED to go to jail for one dead rapist’s little filly scream.

I knew I couldn’t just keep my hoof on his mouth until he finally left this world, though. Either that, or some hidden insanity took hold of me, but either way, I realized that he needed to go as soon as possible. So I raised the knife and stabbed him again, this time right in his jugular vein. I pulled the knife out, and instantly blood started gushing all over the place. Then I stabbed him again, and again... and again... I’m pretty sure at least the last three of the nine total times I stabbed him, he was already dead. But I just had to make sure. After the ninth stab, this one to the side of his head, I let go of the knife, just letting it sit there, lodged into this stallion who had just tried to rape me. And then realization dawned on me again. I had just killed this guy. Even if he was a criminal, even if he did deserve to die, I was the one who killed him! Never in a zillion years did I think I was capable of such a thing, but the evidence was right there in front of me. I felt lightheaded, time seemed to slow down to a crawl, I didn’t know what to do. I was smart enough to take the knife out of the guy so the cops couldn’t dust it for hoof prints or something like that, but beyond that, I was at a loss. I honestly couldn’t do anything with the body. My wing was still injured, so I wasn’t flying out of there with him. There was no way I was just going to trot out of that alley with a bloodied body that was stabbed nine times on my back. My only option was to leave him there. Leave him there and hope there was no evidence around to trace the killer back to me.

With the knife hidden under my good wing, I got out of that alley as fast as I could and made my way to the river so I could wash the blood off of me. I was considering washing the knife as well, but it probably would have been a better idea to just hide it in a rock under the water. In most cop shows, the criminals always bury the knife hoping no one would find it. If the knife was found, though, those guys were screwed. Hiding it in a river, though, with the water rushing over it, wearing away the blood and hoofprints, that was a good idea.

“Oh dear Celestia, what have I become?” I thought to myself as I looked for a river or stream. Luck was on my side that day as I found a stream that had some decent sized rocks. I picked one up and hid the knife under it. To this day that knife is still there best to my knowledge. Either it’s there or somepony looked at it before putting it back nicely... which I doubt.

Afterwards, I proceeded to wash the blood off of myself. Fortunately, the blood was still fresh, so it came out easily. But there was still a lot of it on me. My forehooves were the most badly coated, followed by my chest. Somehow, though, my mane kept clean. At least one good thing happened there.

Wow. I just killed a pony, and I’m happy that his blood didn’t get on my mane. Is this what rock bottom feels like?

Either way, I got clean, got out of the river, shook myself dry as best I could (I could just say I fell in on accident later), and started making my way to the castle. But I stopped before I got very far. “I’m not seriously going back to the castle, am I?” I thought to myself. “Even if the blood’s off my hooves in a literal sense, it’s still there figuratively.” Wonderful. Now I had nowhere to go. Curse you, conscience.

So there I stood, right next to the stream, not even a hundred yards away from Ponyville. But even then, it felt so far away. The lightheadedness returned, my heart began racing, my mind was struggling to figure out a way to get out of this situation that didn’t involve me getting arrested. Or worse, losing my friends.

It was then that I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head. Like somepony had just struck me with a club or other blunt object with full force. I tried to turn around to confront my hidden assailant, but with how hard he hit me combined with how much I was panicking prior, I almost instantly lost consciousness.

And that... was the night I met him.