No Heros

Heroes.

That's what ponies want the most in this world. Someone strong, brave, smart, and full of ambition that can change the world we are in right now.

They cry, whine, and complain about how hard they have it or how the world isn't what it used to be. How someday sone pony, griffin, diamond dog, or other creature will come around and make things how they use to be. Like they were the ones who lived around the time of the Sun and Moon being controlled by the closes things we considered to be god.

I see the hope in their eyes and the longing to do more than just move around and survive. They wanna wake up without having to struggle to find their next meal. They wanna walk out into our world without the risk of being gunned down, cannibalized, robbed, or all three.

They wish for a better life.

A place of peace and love along with dreams of knowing the future.

I laugh.

I can't help it! The way they look at me as they speak is so hilarious. It's even funnier once I put my gun to their head and give them a choice.

It's them or their family.

Most choose their family. Ponies they either brought into the world or were born alongside them. The love and desperation in their eyes are apparent. They would rather die than watch the ones they love to do the same.

Which is why I kill them anyway.

Not fast mind you, no it's too easy too simple of a task. If you wanna truly break a pony then the ways to do it are nearly limitless.

Which is why I always find new ways to inflict pain upon them.

Last month I found a pair of three. Mother, father, and foal. Each one looked to be fairly well-kept and clean which meant they recently come from a settlement.

I of course did my job.

After capturing them and making sure they no longer had anything of value I went ahead and got them settled in.

It's amazing how loud a mother can scream as you slowly wrench her eye free from her skull.

Oh, the look that the stallion gave me as he held his crying foal is one to remember.

I then made sure to visit them at least twice a day. Each time I do I bring with me three things.

tools.

Rope,

And a pony to forcibly drag out the filly or the mother.

I then take my sweet time tying one of them up. Once done I would grab my item of choice and made sure to go as slow as I possibly could. You see torturing is easy, but it's the looks they give you while they do it that makes it clear you're in control. However, if you simply go all out your victim dies sooner. No, you see I don't plan to do that. Instead, I would inflict as many wounds as possible. You can achieve this in many different ways. In my case, I would usually hang my victims for hours at a time before pulling out a tooth as slowly and as long as possible. Then once all their teeth are removed after several days provided you know how to stop or handle possible infection I would go on to phase two.

My dick in their mouth.

Or if im feeling playful ill use a hot iron rod to slowly burn their skin then proceed to pour some salt into the burnt wound.

All while their family watch.

After some time they stop begging for me to stop and instead want me to put the pony out of their misery.

When I don't, they do,

And it's always fun to watch.

Especially when the only tools available are either their hooves which are weak at this point from starvation or a really small rock we give them for that exact purpose.

Despite what they tell you smashing another's skull isn't easy.

Trust me I know.

Mainly because I watched it happen.

Several times.

It's when the seizures start that the pony doing the smashing lose their nerve.

They cry and beg the pony shaking on the ground to forgive them.

In the real world, you die. Not just you but everyone around you will someday meet their end one way or another. You could either die for others and risk dying for absolutely nothing. Or maybe as a symbol, others can use to justify their style of methods. Or You can succumb to the pleasures and enjoyment of life as well as the opportunity to fulfill what makes you truly want to live. Or you can die in a meaningless war trying to change the world only for it to fall into a conflict in the future.

That is the curse of being a hero. Creating a world the need for them never ends. Thus they die a meaningless death.

I groan as my sister Esper shoves her tongue in my mouth. The feeling of her body pushing itself against mine brings a wave of fresh excitement.

She pulls back panting a playful glint in her eyes.

"You looked so fucking hot ramming that mare."

I roll my eyes.

"Tell me something I don't know."

Esper, a violent, rude, horny, little mare that loves to get into my pants so to speak is it lust? Love? I don't know. You lose sight of what love is when you're always surrounded by people who show it in violent ways.

My parents included.

With that said when I look into her eyes I can't help but feel as though there's something more than im willing to understand.

I don't fear death or dying alone, but I can't say the same regarding disappointment.

I laugh.

Oh, I hate it when I think.

She grins leaning closer.

"I want you to make me scream."

I smirk.

'Oh, making people scream is the only thing im good at."