And there he was, sitting in the dark again, wondering what had happened after he saw that filly with the look of how it would see something in the dark, literally but in the end, it didn't matter for a simple looking around Stitchings knew where he was. All that was in front of him, surrounded by the empty void, was a mirror, the same mirror that was in his dead twin sisters room, the one that they looked at to ready for themselves for outings, dinners, or events, the same mirror now cracked but with writing on the glass in its the exact place he wrote in blood, their blood, he reads over it over and over to himself." Hate, Fear, Pain." looking past that. He saw himself, a reflection, but he was different. He was wearing his suit correctly, but his body looked younger; his face didn't have any scarring, burns, or even maggots crawling underneath his very skin. He even had his horn and eye, but even with all that he knows, it's just a reflection, an image of a fake, a dead face that he grew out off and now sitting there, reading the blood written words over and over again and again, he ignores the reflection staring right back at himself.

'Once again, entombed here, but this is a relatively new pit in that hell-scape of Tartarus, to think they would just put me in avoided plain with only a mirror to gaze at myself and what I... What I have... Wait, this doesn't seem right; no, it doesn't. What is this place? What the hell is happening; I was supposed to be... Supposed to... be...' Thoughts rushed to his mind only to fade quickly and soon return his gazing blank deadeye stare at the mirror again only to see his reflection again. Still, with something trailing down his cheeks, he had his eyes closed, and yet he was blanked of expression, and was that water, it trailed down his face from his eyes to his cheeks.

This place is wrong. Stitchings doesn't belong here yet at the same time; it feels familiar; why was Stitchings reflection crying like a child, why was there a mirror, just what the hell is happening? His thoughts instantly suppressed to silence, the silence that would drive any thinking being to madness, all while he could hear the mirrors sobbing and gasps as it screams in agonizing pain. He stares blankly at the mirror, with the same dead stare that only a corpse could perfect.

” Why, we were meant to kill our family and not them, no-pony else, so tell me Why...WHY!?” The reflection screams out at him as he only stares blankly, remaining silent. Now he remembers this void of color, even of the color black wasn't here in his mind, the very same place that he spent when rotting in Tartarus with only this mirror to look back onto himself and the blooded words. Stitchings didn't bother to engage in the mirror, only to raise his claw, ready to strike down the mirror for his final task that he should've done from the very beginning.

With a quick swing using his claw to break the glass, the mirror hitting the crack, making it slowly grow, he continued to hit the cracking glass, letting his rage slowly cloud his mind as he watched his reflection sit there, with his held eyes shut tight. Tears trailed down his cheeks. It only made Stitchings hit harder and swung his claw faster, tightly curled up into a fist as he punches the mirror, one hit, two, five, he counted each blow he felt his claw getting sore and with one final pullback of his claw. Finally beats through the glass, grabbing his reflection by his neck, pulling him throw the broken mirror, and throwing him behind him, sending him straight to the ground as he looks up to see what grabbing him with such violence, only to see the monster that was no longer him in his own body. It wasn't meant to be alive or even real, just a scary reflection now, just anything more than an undead blind enraged beast towering over him as it looked down at him with his eyes glowing of red and black pupils with the sound of a low rough bellow.

"Why you ask, because this is our new destiny, our new path we are no longer walking with the living; the living are walking with us, and this world is full of untried sins, unique desires, more anger. Our master gave us the order to bring him and bring new life, the life of death, the seeds of his crimson corruption." Stitching's slowly walked over, looking down at his reflection, grabbing him by his throat, digging his claws into his neck, feeling his clawed fingers buried. With ease, he had his reflection's esophagus in between his palm and claws and pulled him up, holding him by it in the air. He was crying heavily, his eyes red and puffy, his cheeks swollen with the prints of trails from his tears that now were pouring down from his eyes, all while staring back at was the enraged beast holding him by his literal throat coughing and wheezing with his claws squeezing it.

Then came the sharp slam to the floor as Stitching's used his body's dead weight to throw and hold his reflection on the grown, hearing him groan out and cough as he gripped his claw with both of his hooves, feeling the pain of his neck and throat being squeezed chocking. By not his actual body or even the real him anymore but now just an undead monster that only wants blood, and will do anything for it no longer mad nor sane, deranged or normal, Stitchings what was a foal born to a family of hate and regret, murderer and butcherer of Equestria, died by burning his family, his home and himself. A pony no longer that stolen his blood family's name now a monster fueled by the rage of not just the living and the dead, but by himself, seeing the source of all that hate, pain, fear, and wrath, was looking into a mirror.

" No more will I have to hear your cowardly pathetic worm voice of yours, always wanting to remember Mother Zara's teachings and words; why can't you bare her death, it was our fault, we failed to protect her, and now this world will bear the brutal curl justice it deserves, EVEN IF THE TWO ROYAL HORSES HAVE TO COME AND STOP ME, THEY CAN KILL ME A THOUSAND TENFOLD, AND I WILL BUTCHER THEIR BODIES AND SKEWER THEM OFF THE REMAINS OF THE MOUNTAIN FACING SOUTH SO THEY MAY WATCH THEIR WHOLE WOLRD"-

Then with a loud 'SNAP,' Stitchings came out of his rage and looked at now a dead reflection of himself that he ripped out of the mirror, the very same him that wanted to disobey their master, the- or what left of his normality, conscious or whatever he was, he was dead in his claw and his body pinned on the ground from the looks of it he crushed his esophagus from his grip. Giving him a slow and painful death after the slam and his body crushing his throat into a thin mush paste, it snapped his neck, killing him in a second instant. He felt pain, and it was the last and only thing all the good that was in his decaying, rotting mind would ever feel.

He looked at his reflection's face seeing his eyes were half-closed and bloodshot, with only the final bits of tears to trail downside of his face as he laid their dead with his neck still in Stitchings grip, now the family of Stitchings is dead, now he was no longer held back, and now Stitchings were alone in his mind, hearing no more cries, whimpers, or even a simple beg, just silence, he hated it but at the same time liked it. It would be like that forever till his master makes him draw his final breath. The only thing he will want is if it could be painless, till then, he as a job to do as a small smile curled up in his half lips, and he came to reality from his mind. Looking at his grip, he was holding a dead pink flat maned pony he had in his claw; he felt the spine of her neck split in two as the smell of fire from somewhere was near along with... was that music, whatever it played it sounded as if it played on a record player that broke and on a repeat of the same tone over and over. With a slight glance around his surrounding, the hell is that, is that cake and... Oh, and that's a body, OK? There are many bodies, blood splatters, confetti, streamers, and... glitter? Along with the sounds of a mare crying somewhere, but where?

He looked around his surroundings; it was a party in a pastry bakery of some sort, decorated as if it were a fillies party as he used his magic to shut off the broken looping record player to stop that terrible loop tempo of the same note over and over. he sees balloons, simple childish party games, a snack table with assorted cupcakes, a bottle of this 'pop' and other snacks. Then there was the dead alligator pinned to a picture of a tailless-drawn pony on the wall through its snout, with stitchings claw fist printed on both the gator's head and the wall with the nail pinning it. He saw the bodies, a grey coat and blond mane pegasus with their wings ripped off, a brown coat and mane stallion hanging by a chandler by his tie, two ponies hugging each other, a mint color mane and light green unicorn with a yellow coat and blue-ish pink mane. 'lovers, cute' he thought as the most of other bodies were heavily drenched in blood or missing body parts, hell one even had their face skinned off there body. "My work... Not a true beauty of art, but the eye in the beholder or however that dead pony said it."

He looked back at the pink pony in his claw he held by the neck; she was a mare by the look and an earth pony but, familiar to him somehow, pulling her head with his hoof to hold it up, he sees it was that Pinkie Pie pony, one of the friends with the purple alicorn, the childish one, now dead with a broken neck in his claw along with some blood splatters here and there and with a cake server cutter stabbed into her stomach. Stitchings dropped her limp corpse to the ground into a puddle of blood, seeing, hell, whatever happened here was a blood bath only for him to kneel in pain, exhaustion, and... glitter again? He looked at his body, seeing he had some glitter blasted on him with some confetti and streamers all over his body with new stains of blood, looking around again at the bodies Stitchings saw. He misjudges there were many bodies everywhere, and dead ones to be exact, some butchered into pieces, dismembered, decapitated, gutted, burned even; he even sees one missing half their skull, almost like a big animal bitten it off. Looking at that, he felt an awful taste in his mouth. He only counted a rough estimate of twelve to maybe twenty or more, a party of ponies.

He looked at his body again, but as caught off guard seeing his claw and hoof was drenched in the blood, even his mouth as he looked at the bloodied mess and pieced it all together, it made him chuckle a bit before the sounds of a mare crying somewhere near, he looks around to find the source of the crying. He follows the sounds; slowly getting up, feeling his body was sore and aching to stand, he knew he fought for this blood bath and limply making his way to a pair of swinging doors peaking over to see a blue chubby looking pink maned earth pony mare, she was curled up against the wall, she had tears trailing down as she was staring at the kitchen oven as thick black smoke was pouring out of the close door. Stitchings couldn't see what was burning in the oven, but his eyes were more on the decapitated boiling pony head in a pot over the smoking oven. Did he do that, or was it... He looked over at the chubby blue mare, now seeing she had a force-cut smile cut through her cheeks, she had blood smeared across her face, and her flanks looked as if they had gotten pealed off her rump and her hooves. All four of them were dripping in blood, and her eyes were pinpoints as she was crying or probably giggling in her case with that forced smile on her cheeks.

He smiled at her; she was lost and broken, whaling like a restrained caged animal; whatever Stitchings did to this mare, he thought his work might have gone overboard or didn't do enough at his most whole, he'll have to remember this mare to continue with some new ideas. He'll keep her as a test pony for him when he wants to play new ways of murdering other creatures or just for entertainment, seeing her body twitch and tremble around. Stitchings couldn't tell if she was crying or laughing as he opened the smoking oven like a vast black cloud leaves the stove. He used his claw to reach in and grab the oven-tray, sliding it out, and he then was greeted by two black burnt tiny bodies.

" Babies, twins nonetheless, and looking at the broken mare, she must have been the mother and the boiling pot on the stove boiling must have been some remains of the father, a small tiny little family, cute, adorable and disgusting."

He was then distracted by the sounds of distant steps trotting simultaneously in a.. marching cadence with... metal? Must be armored, wait. Oh, buck me with the Tartarus pike through my ass and mouth, it was the guards, and by the sounds of the marching gallops, there are a lot of them. His thoughts rushed as he stared at the scene around him, realizing he's the only culprit as; he sighs before taking his claw to pull out his right red-eye from his skulls socket and holding it up close to a window to see outside. He was right, making sure not to have his giant figure be seen. It was the guards, the royal guards armed with spears and swords in there shiny goldish armor, this can only mean one thing. 'She' or 'They' both were here for him, his murdering spree to capture, contain and question him; or this mass murder was going to be a monstrous genocide and 'She' or maybe 'They both' will be his first blood shed for it. By Celestia's and Luna's royal foal makers, this will be fun for him, his small smile slowly turned to a snarling grin and he stares at the blue chubby broken blood soaked mare getting an idea of a plan as he puts his red eye back into its socket of his skull.

Author's Note

Sorry for the late publication; if you like the story, I haven't set up a good or decent schedule, so I want to apologize for that and for being late on it. The story is still being worked, edited, and more to come, so don't worry about our little monster. We're barely hip-deep in this pool of bloody rage.

Tomorrow I'll do the necessary edits and fix any punctuations, if any, thanks to some tips, and that might go from this one to the other chapters. Thank you, and have a good day, friends.

cya in the next chapter : )

(Also, give the read-aloud option try; it may not be yours, but it sounds better if it was read aloud, but that's just my thoughts, I'm sure most of you might enjoy it a bit.)