A Factory Fallen

A world full of ponies. It's kinda funny to me. A world full of ponies killed me. A goddamned Princess did it. I thought all princesses were pussies with no life. Then again, I thought killing would be fun. I realize it now. Because of my own self pity, so many have died. It seems like it would be in the thousands, if not for the butterfly effect. I had probably killed too many to count, and it still ricochets. At the moment, I felt even darker. I was in a weird place, full of workers. They ran around a factory floor, rainbows and blood all over. I knew where I was, the Rainbow Factory. A dark place, where not a single soul gets through. But I wasn't actually there, this was a vision.

A gruff voice spoke to me, he sounded like he was a general.

"Get up, maggot. It's time."

I could hear soft sobbing, and a voice speaking.

"Please no..."

Screams off in the distance could be heard, and ponies in blood covered suits shuffled around near me. They all had a foal they were tugging along the cold metal surface. I saw whoever I was look up at the catwalk, seeing more workers shuffling around above my head.

But then, suddenly, the vision ended.

Padded walls surrounded me. I was in a straight jacket, and some sort of mask was on my muzzle. It was tight, and itchy. The room had a stinky smell, like old cheese. A speaker sat above my head, and a window sat behind me. I couldn't move at all, plus the door was locked. The room was cold, freezing almost. It felt like it was 40 degrees in there.

I felt nervous. I almost felt like sobbing. I had fucked myself over. I was going to be here forever. A feeling of dread loomed over me, regret overflowing me. My vision blurred, as some tears formed in my eyes. But I blinked them out. Fear, dread, and feelings that crushed hope, they were for the weak. The ones who would not fight. The ones who were afraid to fight until their weapons break, and then fight more until their knuckles were bloodied, and bone was showing. They wouldn't dare spit on their enemies after their knuckles were broken and battered. Even then, they still would not kick their enemies until their legs broke. That's what fear costs you. Your courage, or your bravery.

I was going to be brave, and I would stop the Factory, even if it meant my own death. I would go down only after breaking every single bone in my body, trying to accomplish my mission. I wouldn't allow what I saw to happen more. And for a moment, I felt a fire in my heart, and a vision interrupted my inner monologue.

I stood alone, on a platform of clouds, which held up the Cloudsdale Weather Factory. I had bloody wounds all over me, my left eye had a crude bandage over it. I toss a match into a trail of gasoline, which led into the massive structure.

And then, the vision ended.

Celestia watched him carefully. She was wary of him, and yet piteous. She had seen his past, what made him want to kill so many things.

But yet.

His aura felt pure black when she knocked him out. Now it feels like it's radiating light!

She examined the room for a moment. It was an intricately designed metal room, with a couch, a TV, two monitors and a keyboard, and a fridge. The room was built to provide comfort for whoever was working on the surveillance of the prisoner inside, who was currently on break. She had decided to work a shift today, as the stallion who was normally watching him had been sick with the flu.

She needed to watch him anyway. The shift was only two hours, and she did paperwork while watching him. Peyton was dangerous, and could escape. But he wouldn't escape today, he couldn't. She reasoned herself to think that. He wouldn't escape until it was time to execute him, by electric chair of course.

"Don't be afraid to hurt him personally, Celestia."

"He did kill your sister, after all."

Celestia knew those voices in her head. They were the darkness that she fought to prevent. She hated them. Celestia knew that he would get his dues some day, but not now.

"Silence, demon. He will deserve every volt given to him."

I could swear I heard Her voice. But I dismissed it. I had been here long enough to know who was there. It was the guard. His name is Dumbass Mcgee. But really, I don't know his actual name. Probably something shitty with 'shy' somewhere in the name. Seven hundred and thirty days in the damn slammer is pretty boring. I don't actually know how long months are here, but I'm assuming three hundred sixty five days a year is equivalent to a year here.

Then again, instead of shitmas, they have Hearth's Warming. And Nightmare Night instead of Halloween.

At this point I'm bored. Maybe if I try to remember a fitting song for my situation.

Another one down, and another one down, and another one bites the dust.

Nah, Queen was a good band, but Hotel California takes the cake as my favorite.

Damn shame I killed a few musical artists in my time. Maybe was actually a good idea. I still don't fucking know.

Nonetheless, I should figure out how to get out of this place.

Celestia gazed outward at the room, and reluctantly moved to leave, as a new pony entered.

A glare that could make a hardened criminal cry stood on her face, stoically as stone.

Pity would not do, as this thing killed so many that she loved.

And yet it felt no remorse, as far as she could tell.

He even went out of his way to kill everyone on the Friendship Express that fateful afternoon.

Rage filled her as she left, and she reveled in the pain he would feel in only a few days.

Volts. Hundreds of volts of electricity. She almost put on a smile as she imagined his face.

Hundreds. Of. Volts.