Ah, death. It’s been sorely missing from my tale thus far. But if you’ve read this far, I’m sure you’re here till the end - so let me tell you about my first murder.

It was later in life than you'd expect - I'd had Pony who Doesn't Matter for well over six months at this point, was was starting to see a decent decline in my morning panics. I found him at the docks one morning, while I was picking up my shipment of Changing Garnets. They're mined only very deep in changeling country, and are rather hard to get one's hooves on - but I needed them for a formal wear set at the time. All that besides, this pony was delivering fish, and he was positively handsome. He was eyeing my tail from the moment I walked by to the moment I walked back past him and handed the small crate of gemstones to my assistant.~~I told her~~ My assistant is innocent, mind you, Princess. Purely an employee of my company. Please don't assume my personal life spread that far, and leave all of my employees good and well out of this. They'll feel awful enough when they've learned what their beloved CEO spent his off hours doing. Anyway, as I was saying - I told her to bring it on back to my workspace for me, as something had just come up. She looked concerned of course, but I assured her I simply needed to get something to eat, and she ran along.

I approached the stallion with a faux curiosity as to the make of his boat. He was a burly sort, one of the bigger earth ponies I’d seen, with a coat of white-cream, dark brown hooves, and a light blue mane and tail. He had a shaggy beard and his cutie mark was a wave hitting a cliff with a lighthouse. He said his name was Rocky Shore later, while his dick was in my ass.

He boasted to me that his bot was the best of hits kind, old but sturdy and that it’a “the smoothed ride a stallion could ever have”. We flirted back and fourth until he invited me aboard for a joyride. I coyly caressed his muzzle with my tail as I climbed aboard, telling him a joyride was exactly what I was looking for. We continued flirting while he weighed anchor and set off - and once we where well off into the ocean, I began to blow him by the helm. He came fast, and I snowballed him his own cum while we rocked with the waves. He obviously thought me a meek bottom type of stallion, and shoved me around as he mounted me - it had been awhile since I was treaded roughly, so I quite enjoyed it.

I was struck rather suddenly by the thought of how easy it would be to dump his body and simply float back to shore, acting as if I’d been swimming. The water was calm and, though I’m not very good at it, I was sure I could teleport myself close enough for rescue should my attempt to swim go poorly. So as he rested his body against the ships railing after his second orgasm, I began to magically choke him. It felt good, seeing somepony so much stronger than me be powerless to stop me. When he was sufficiently weak and loopy from lack of air I broke part of the railing off and ran him through with it, then broke one of his windows and slit his throat with the glass. I was overcome with sadistic glee and fell into the blood puddle, pulling his body overtop of mine so I could feel him convulse until he couldn’t anymore. I masturbated, and then fucked the wound in his neck. Once I came there, I fucked his ass, and then his mouth - but I made sure I popped out through the hole several times. His corpse was thoroughly disrespected, but I still felt like I was missing out on something. So I began to lick and suck at his wounds, drinking his blood and, at kne point, even going so far as to bite some of his meat and eat it. It was delicious, and cannibalism is something I’ve partaken in rather often since. I threw him overboard, and broke a hole in the bottom of the ship - small of course, but enough that it would sink by the time anyone came looking for him.

And, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would face no consequences, I went back to my office, and then went to ponyville to eat with Pinkie Pie, who hadn’t had the chance to see me since my mother’s death and wanted to cook for me. The soup and cakes where delicious, of course, but felt dry compared to the splendor I had tasted earlier that day. I succeeded in not showing any distaste however and, after spending an hour talking with Little Cheese - a good friend, who is known since we where foals - I went home, and came again into the mouth of Pony who Doesn’t Matter. What a good day that was.

The second pony I ever killed was a mare, another poor wretched thing I picked up off the streets with no home, friends, or history. Nopony to miss her.

I wasn’t particularly cruel to her - I had plans for her. I offered her housing in exchange for sex, and bearing my child for me. Her name was Marble Flower, a sweet little unicorn with wide innocent eyes. She seems ashamed of her supposed prostitution but, given how much of a gentleman I was, agreed fairly easily. I kept her separate from Pony who Doesn’t Matter, and allowed her to keep her name. I ducked her once every morning and once before bed, and other than that, let her live peacefully in her own bedroom and bathroom. She was brought three meals a day, kept well fed and a little fattened, and before long she was pregnant. For the first half of the pregnancy, I still fucked her once a day - then I didn’t see her at all, until I heard her screams echoing the halls. I rushed to find her water broken, thighs streaked with blood and face contorted with pain. My plan finally was coming to fruition.

This will be more graphic than necessary, because it was my magnum opus of debauchery. Pure and disgusting. I did this because I felt I needed to do something so over the top, so terrible, that Celestia would kill me on sight if she knew. That every single friend of my Mothers would buck my brains out, no trial at all. Just because I wanted to know I could do something behind any Pony’s comprehension of how awful somepony could be, and get away with it. So yes, laugh if you will, at the over the top violence - but know that in your Equestria, Princess Twilight, it is possible to get away with. Easy, even. I was able to do this, and I am certain that many others could, should they want to something purely for the sake of it being awful.

I brought a stake with me. A long one, bought from a museum, from ancient times when ponies feared blood-sucking Vamponies and believed them to be killable only by long, sharp, wooden stakes. I waited until my first daughter had her head out - the bright light of the room piercing through her closed eyelids, I’m certain - and then I ran her through. And her mother. All the way.

I left them there. I sat and I waited until there was no more movement. I felt...pity. And emptiness. I had done this through a sense of necessity, like I had something I just had to prove. Well, proven, I suppose. I...I decided I wouldn’t do anything like that again. Pointless.

Living for ones pleasure at the expense of others is...not fine, but it’s what I do. This was just violence for violence’s sake. I don’t regret any of my other murders, but this one I wish I hadn’t done.

Signed, Velour.
End Entry the Fourth.

Author's Note

Shrug. Less depressing content coming soon. I thoroughly enjoyed the beginning of this chapter - the second was merely a portion of Velour’s story I felt he needed to tell.