The two young mares approached Evan oddly, seductively. They were a nothing more than a blur, yet he knew exactly what they were doing. They eventually reached him, groping at his crotch playfully, showing him their sex. He felt a tingling about his crotch, and before he knew it, he was fully erect. He looked behind him, one mare was gently kissing his cock, the other his neck. Suddenly, he came -
- and awoke in his bed
It had all been a dream. But it was so vivid, he thought. He lay there in bed, his penis slowly shrinking. He imagined the two mares as sunlight slowly creeped into his room. He got up, cleaned the semen off himself, and left his room. The other residents of his house were up and about, Peter, who sleeps in the room next to him, was down in the dining room, finishing off breakfast. Milo, who assumedly just sleeps in the living room each night, was cleaning up the mess, (That Peter spread about the kitchen making breakfast for himself.) Paris, who slept in the room past Peter, was awake, but isolated in his room. As Evan passed by it, he knocked a hoof on the door.
"Paris?" He called out.
"Fuck. Off." Stated Paris, intimidatingly.
"Sorry." Said Evan, as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He prepared himself a bowl of Cereal. As he checked the fridge for milk, there was none. He looked at the floor next to Milo. Peter spilled the entire fucking carton. "I'm going to go get some milk." Evan walked outside, closing the door a little loud. "Shit." He whispered to himself as the creep on their lawn, Bacchus, raised his head.
He sprinted towards Evan, unleashing a mighty roar of barks. Evan simply turned around and bucked Bacchus away, which seemed to ward him off after he yelped incoherently and rolled about on the ground. Evan continued towards the store for milk.
He grabbed the milk from the shelf and hurried over to the counter, placed five bits in front of the cashier, and froze. He was staring directly at her. She looked exactly like the mare from his dreams. Reminiscing back, he nearly got an erection, before the cashier snapped him out of it.
"One bit is your change!" she raised her voice at him, impatiently.
"Right," Evan stuttered, walking out of the store embarrassingly. He strolled back home, and thought about the two mares from his dream.
Just as Evan entered the door, Paris tackled him.
"The fucking milk!" he yelled. Evan yelped as Paris had pounced on him, handed over the milk, and watched Paris go into the kitchen. "Fucking kike." Said Paris as he walked away. Paris was an odd one.
They all sat on the couch after Paris had rounded them into the kitchen for a discovery he made. Something about cereal and chocolate milk. Evan didn't really pay attention. As they had walked into the living room, Evan snatched up the news paper. and glanced at the main headline.
"Holy Shit," Evan exclaimed. "Fluttershy was found dead, like, whoa, her body was mutilated?"
"Flutters?" Paris inquired. "Dead?"
"Yup." Declared Milo, looking over Evans shoulder.
Everyone felt rather, disgruntled. Fluttershy had no reason to be killed, and, well, nobody had reason to kill her.
"Oh hey guys!" Peter cried out, breaking the silence rather inappropriately. "Theirs a little section about.lucid dreaming or whatever, cool right?" Everyone just read over that, as having nothing else to really do. Still a little disgruntled, everyone headed up to their rooms, whilst Milo sat on the couch.
Later into the day, around lunch, Paris had prepared a meal for everypony.
"Hey Kikes!" he screamed. Everyone understood what he meant and came to the dining room to eat.
"What does kike even mean?" Asked Evan.
"It's a racial slur for Jew."
"Don't you think thats, offensive?"
"Yup."
"Than why do you use it?"
"Because you're a kike."
"But I'm not Jewish." Protested Evan.
"Do I care?" Replied Paris.
"Guess not."
"Hey guys, why don't we actually continue on with the plot in this story rather than side-track about, well, bullshit." Said Milo. Everyone stared at him angrily.
"Faggot." They all said in unison. Everyone than turned back to what they were doing.
"Is anybody going to try that lucid dreaming thing tonight?" Inquired Peter, munching down on his sandwich.
"I will be." Stated Evan.
"I don't care about your superstitious bullshit, I swear to god you faggots I will shoot you." Said Milo, over exaggerating his anger. Everyone ignored him.
"How do you think it will turn out?" Peter asked.
"I dunno, hopefully I can do it." Replied Evan.
"That's kinda cool, controlling your own dreams and stuff.
Evan just mumbled back, as Paris pulled out a hacksaw from under the table.
"What the fuck?" said Milo, watching Paris as he headed up into his room. The sound of the hacksaw sounded far away, as the walls were rather thick in this house.
Paris was an odd one.
Later that night, Evan climbed into bed. He reflected on the article about lucid dreaming. He closed his eyes and than -
- awoke again.
But this wasn't his room. This wasn't, true. Yet it was his room. He didn't awake groggily like he usually did, and raised his head. He glanced around, he was dreaming, he could tell. He picked up a book, and opened it, the words weren't there, even though they were. He was definitely dreaming. So this is the lucid thing, he thought to himself.
He began to control the dream, and already he imagined the two young mares from his dream last night, and their they stood before him. They moved about him, seductively, as they did the first time, groping at his crotch a little more aggressively this time. Already, he was erect, and they were kissing and licking at his cock and balls. He could feel how they wanted them, he could feel the pleasure. They competed who would be the first to suck him off, as the first one shoved his length into her mouth, the second one nipped and sucked on his balls below. And as it nearly always seemed to turn out -
- he came almost immediately.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, he imagined the two would be gone, and so they were. He imagined things would have last much longer, but then again, he was still a virgin, well, at least not in his dreams.
He ventured about the dream world, flying, breathing underwater, whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. All the usual stuff that would be impossible in real life.
He woke up in the morning. Now this time he was groggy. This was real life. He pulled himself out of bed, and into the kitchen. Surprisingly, Paris was up and about today, he was finishing up some grand bowl of cereal, it was simply just cheerios, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup.
"Morning, nigga." Paris said to Evan.
"Why not kike?" Inquired Evan.
"Shut the fuck up, kike." Paris replied.
Evan went out to check the mailbox, closing the door silently to not attract Bacchus, but then he noticed something. A discoloration in the grass where Bacchus usually lay. Evan felt a little uneasy about this, he walked over, and quickly realized the grass around where he lay was covered in dried blood, some of it still wet. Evan gagged at the smell of death and blood, the smell was very fresh. Bacchus had been killed over night.
As he retreated back to the house, all the residents were secretly thankful this had happened, nobody had liked Bacchus. But they were also stricken with fear, not knowing what had happened or how, and why it had been Bacchus in the first place, and not someone actually worth acknowledging. Nobody reported the murder to the police
The rest of the day, it was rather silent about the house. two murders, two days. Although everyone liked Fluttershy, and was rather upset about that, they were only upset about the Bacchus murdering because, well, it happened so close to them. At night, everyone went to their respected rooms, besides Milo, threw a 'Goodnight' here and their, and went to bed.
Tonight Peter would lucid dream. He knew it. It hadn't worked last night, but it will tonight. He jumped into bed, and quickly fell asleep.
He awoke again in his dream. Things were fuzzy, he didn't feel tired like he should after waking up. He was going to make things quick, Peter didn't know how long things would last. He imagined up Evan, unsuspecting, waiting. Peters penis grew hard as he stared at Evan.
"Hey slut." Peter said. Evan looked behind him.
"Slut?" Evan inquired. Peter pounced on Evan, ready to fuck him silly, when -
- Evan was awoken by yelling outside. He quickly scrambled out of bed, and ran out of his room, the others did the same. The front door was open, and they went out onto the lawn. Their, Milo stood over a dead colt. Evan recognized him, he was Noah, a young colt from down the street. None of them had ever seen something like this, (Well, maybe Paris) Milo was holding a kitchen knife, the largest one they had, and he had stabbed and sliced Noah in every possible place he could have. White bone showed through the red of flesh, and Milo's hands were covered in blood.
The neighbors across the street had called the police, and they were here in no time.
"You're under arrest! Don't move!" Said the officers, as they restrained Milo, and took him away.
All the residents of the house went through a quick interrogation, and detectives searched the house for anything suspicious. After all the chaos had ended, they all sat in the living room together until morning.
When the Mailmare came by, Evan went out to grab the newspaper, and came back into the living room. He began reading aloud the main headline.
"Young colt slaughtered by Serial Killer! Today in the morning, the serial killer, known as Milo Mac, who had murdered Fluttershy, a homeless, and Noah McFadden, has been brought to justice today. PonyVille is once again safe, and prosperity is returned to our humble town." Evan looked rather depressed, he glanced at the others, and already they knew what he was to say.
"Milo wasn't the murderer." Said Paris. Everyone nodded and agreed. "We know him, it couldn't have been him, well, he did kill Noah actually, so scratch that." Evan glared at him a little angrily, he was talking a little jokingly about this. Whatever, Evan thought. They would just go about their day, without Milo.
That night, Evan passed by Paris' room. A bright, flickering light emulated from under the door, and he swore he heard the sound of a blow-torch against metal. He knocked on Paris' door, receiving no answer, he walked in. There he was building a metal box, and next to the box, lay the bodies of Fluttershy, Bacchus, and Noah, He had stolen each body from the police station, where federal agents had been to take them for investigation. They were all a bloody pulp, but still recognizable. Blood was plaster on the walls, and Paris himself. Evan was taken aback.
"You. Fucking. Faggot." Stated Paris, as he put the blowtorch down. Evan didn't move, he was afraid. Afraid of the bodies, of the blood, the smell of death, of Paris. "You know I have to kill you, right? That's unfortunately how it fucking works." Paris picked up a knife next to the bodies, lunged at Evan and -
- tripped over a bone from the bodies.
Before he knew it, Evan had picked up the knife and was was thrusting it into Paris, giving him no time to scream and blood flowed through his mouth, turning any sound he could have made turned into an incoherent gabble. He kept stabbing him until he died, his lifeless eyes rolling back into his head.
Paris had been an odd one.
"Fuck, what did I just do?" Evan murmured to himself. He grabbed the blowtorch. The rest of the night, he worked on finishing the metal box, and sealing the bodies within it.
The next morning Evan awoke, rested. He had fallen asleep next to Paris' dead body box thing. He walked out of Paris' room, closing the door behind him. As Evan walked into the kitchen, Peter solemnly said good morning to him. Evan said nothing, in fact, he felt nothing. He felt empty, like he had just cut open a void within him. He glared at Peter, a lust for blood suddenly filled that void.
"Hey Peter, come here," Demanded Evan. "I wanna show you something." Peter trotted over and hummed quizzically at him. Evan grabbed Peter's head, snapped his neck, and cleanly killed him. He had not known how he had done it, he just did it. Evan dragged Peter upstairs to Paris' room. He forced him into the metal box. After sealing it once again, he brought it into their front yard, and buried it. Ten feet under, just for reassurance.
Months later, Milo had squeezed himself through court, proving himself (falsely) innocent, and returned home. Evan told them the others had moved away. Milo Believed him. Life went on normally.
The End
Author's Note
SEX AND MURDER, SEX AND MURDER!
I'msorry
