Crazy. Psychotic. Insane. Delusional. Erratic. Maniacal. Sociopath. Each of these words can be properly organized in neat little sticky notes and arranged on various areas of my brain to correctly explain what was wrong with me. Though there is one word in particular that always tickled my fancy.

Antisocial Personality Disorder.

It makes me giggle every time. Maybe because it has a ‘D’ in it? Discord, disorder, oh what fun!

But what is this disorder, you may ask? Well, even if you didn’t, I’m going to tell you anyways! It’s basically where your mind is a ticking time bomb of destruction, and everyone around you gets blasted away in your path. Basically, I just ignore what’s perceived as right or wrong and go by my own way of thinking. So because of this, I rather lack the empathy to care about others, and often times give a complete disregard for their rights as individuals and even violate those rights from time to time.

But if your little crackpot brain can’t comprehend the textbook explanation, let me put it in laymen’s terms. Or laymare’s terms, if we’re going to go down the punrific route that most stories like this reach eventually.

Let’s say I had a knife. A perfectly normal, sharpened to a razor’s edge, knife. And let’s say I am right behind you, holding this knife in my hand, about to strike. And you’re probably so enthralled with tying your shoe you don’t even hear me sneaking up behind you. What do you think would happen?

Well, any normal person would never think of doing such a gruesome act. Not good morally or ethically, mind you. Society cleanses or represses those thoughts. Makes it so you keep it all bottled up inside, unable to express your true nature in fear of being ousted by the rest of your world.

So it’s basically like a rope holding back your hand from masturbating your tiny little wee-wee to the sick pleasure of the sadistically ruthless world around you. Also, porn. Because that’s just cruel.

But let’s say you had a motive. Maybe the stabber wanted your wallet, and promptly slices up your insides to rob you. While a little more morally unjust, at least there was a set goal. Evil, but with a cause. Like banks, or the government, and even girl scouts! Especially those damn girl scouts.

As for me, well... telling would just ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?

Speaking of fun, you know what it’s like to live forever? To be unable to just die? No chucking your dead weight in a six foot hole in the ground and flying off to the pearly gates. Or rather, in my case, a one way trip to a lava lake and sodomoy pits.

It’s pretty sweet at first. Oh sure, there’s the entire ‘watch you loved ones slowly die’ part, but after a few centuries you get over it. There is, however, one fundamental flaw. And no, it isn’t in the Matrix.

You get bored.

Once you do everything and anything, there’s nothing else to capture your interest. I read all the books ever written, and wrote a few thousand myself. And do I even have to mention how quickly I went through the porn?

I visited every part of the world imaginable. Climbed the highest mountains, dived in the deepest oceans, traversed the most desolate regions of the planet. Trust me when I saw that nature gets boring real quick.

There was one thing that always irked me with the entire immortal thing. Everything stays the same. Which adds onto the boring aspect of it. Oh sure, the new technologies are a bit interesting, but soon enough those too become a novelty. Though the blowy up ones are fun to use for unpractical purposes. Empires rise and fall, wars are waged, lives are lost. Battle after needlessly bloody battle goes on and on in a tediously repeated process. Like marriage, but with less spousal abuse.

At first, you just stick in the background, staring in horror at how mortals can treat each other so. Then you become interested: with the blood, the gore, the screams and begs of death that you would never be able to feel yourself. It enthralls you with how these mortals needlessly throw away their already pathetically short lives like they meant nothing. Like ants running into a fire to get at a burned marshmallow.

Soon, your curiosity peaks so much that you have to have a taste. A taste of what death feels like. You can’t die yourself. No matter how hard you tried. But you can do the next best thing.

Kill someone.

A body dying is a pretty interesting process, I might add. A picture says a thousand words, but a body can die in endless amounts of ways. When you see their last struggled breaths of air when your choke them in your paw. Or the waterfall squirts of blood when you slice open their throat with your claw. The slowing down of the beats of their heart when you hold it up to their face to gaze one last time before you rip it out. Each death just a beautiful picture of bodily reactions shutting down as their souls drift out of their corpse.

Ah yes, the soul. Many say they don’t exist, but I’ve seen it. The life energy, the tiny surge of power each living being contains within them. You only see it for a brief flash of time, just as it leaves their body. The glossing over effect of the eyes, if you will. For just a moment you feel it drifting out of the body, fading away to places unknown.

For this reason and many more that I’d rather not articulate on is why I’m crazy; killing innocent ponies and other creatures just for a sadistic pleasure of seeing them die. While I do like my explanation of the beauty of life and death being achieved in one gloriously bloody moment, seems that just gets thrown away as maniac blabber whenever someone hears it. Seems my philosophy is unappreciated in this day and age.

So, it was at this time that I found a way to quell my boredom. At first, it was just a small snack here and there. Did I ever mention that ponies had such a rich texture to their meat? Chewy, with a certain sweetness that’s just lip smacking good! Plus, such a wide range of ways to keep them. Pulled pony was always a good one for grilling, but I found that pony legs deep fried then dipped in teriyaki sauce was just scrumptious!

Anyways, every blue moon or two I would murder a pony in such a gruesome and bloody fashion that my urges were eased for months at a time. Their screams even made for an excellent lullaby to drift off to sleep to. Seriously, I should find a way to market that for children.

Would make a killing.

But soon I needed more. Much more. Like a druggy with a mean fix I just had to get higher doses just to stay sane. Or sane for me, at least.

I then began to take to the habit of doing killings on a massive scale. Started off small, with just the odd isolated village here and there. The ponies were helpless before me. Though it did bring a chuckle to my throat whenever they tried to fight back.

It was here that I started my new favorite pastime. Pony punting. Pretty simple game. All you have to do is kick a pony hard enough to send them into orbit. Points and achievements are unlocked by how hard of an impact they make when they land.

Here from the smoldering craters of their dead bodies did I find that fire made for an excellent way to take out a bunch of them at once, and in such a splendid manner as well! Why, the burst of bodies in the flames as their fat melted off the bones and their meat burned to a charred crisp was such a delicious smell. Someone should really make that into a candle one of these days.

Ooh, and did I mention the screams? Each one was different. Why, the screams of a pony watching their sibling being beheaded is much different than the screams of a mother watching her foal being crushed under your foot. But in the end, the screams always stopped. Usually when I bit off their head. Skulls are much crunchier than you would think. Like a tootsie pop, with the outside being the lollipop and the chewy brain being the center tootsie roll.

It was during this process of finding a new life in the torture and eventually murder of so many hapless individuals that my appearance changed. Well, not so much as change, as me making little touch ups here and there. I didn’t like my old look. Too tacky and just bland. So instead, I just stole a new one. Who said originality was dead if you just copied enough times?

After acquiring the needed parts forcibly donated by some animals, I made my new self. Heck, I even got a new title as well. Discord, Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. Had a nice ring to it. Even tried to stick to the gimmick by creating some relatively harmless mischief here and there.

It was interesting. One moment I would be ripping the intestines out of a pony and then stuffing them down the throat of the poor sap next to him, and then I would be making chocolate milk rain from the sky. It was just plain fun switching between my two personas whenever I wanted, catching everyone off guard, making them guess what I’d do next. Anything I could ever imagine I just did. I was basically a god.

And like all gods, someone had to put me in my place. How oddly cliched. And utterly boring. In hindsight, I should have seen it coming a mile away. Evil tyrant, torturing the masses for his own amusement, ruling the world in an iron fist/paw/claw, blah, blah, blah—plus, the entire thing with changing weather patterns to sugary drinks. It was totally predictable that two morons would try to stop me.

Ah yes, the pretty pony princesses, and alicorns at that. Why, it was one of the most exciting things to happen to me that century. Oh, I can just see them now.

Little ol’ Celly, all dolled up for an epic battle with her even cuter sister Lunypoo by her side. They were just so adorable, I could just eat them up. Which I really wanted to. Did they taste like unicorns, or pegasi? Maybe even that earth pony part of them would be more prevalent in taste. Oh, the possibilities!

But unfortunately for me, I didn’t get to start grilling them right away. Or even bake and flambe in a delicious sauce of garlic and lemon juice. Not even a teeny, tiny nibble as well. No, they just had to use the Melons of Armory or whatever the hell they’re called on me.

At first, I scoffed at the idea I could be defeated so easily by simple magic. I was a god, immortal beyond the touch of time, with the ultimate free will to do whatever I pleased. Which is why, lying in the rules of unfairness in the universe, I was defeated for classic villain overconfidence.

After that, I chilled for about a millenia encased in stone. Now let me tell you, that was not fun. Not one bit. Nope. Nadda. Just a big ol’ unjolly time of untold boredom. Boredom I could do absolutely nothing about. Nothing at all. At all. Nothing...

Now you can imagine, this caused my already highly unstable mental condition to go, how you say, completely ballistic. Imagine this like a time out, except for one thousand fucking years. Held completely still in stone. Able to hear every sound around you. Just my luck my eyes were closed when I got stoneified.

Also, I now have an uncanny hate of gum and pigeons. First one because you will not believe how many idiots tourists stick those disgusting things in between my toes. Second because, well... you know. At least I found a new animal to shove down ponies’ throats. Also, turning ponies into bubble gum and chewing them while they’re still alive. I have to try that out sometime.

Oh, but look at me being a chatty patty and going off topic once again. Well, after I broke out through the help of some mindless twerps that were arguing nearby, I was free to do whatever I pleased. Now, I’m sure you already know my actions during my glorious fifteen minutes in the spotlight, but there’s still more to the tale than that. Allow me to give you the extended director’s cut.

I had it all planned out, you see. First I kick started the wonderful revival of chaos, and turned Equestria into the chaos capital of the world. With everything so disorganized and with anarchy in full swing, the slaughterfest was going to go swimmingly. Oh, how I had dreamt of that day for so long.

First, I had to take care of the Element bearers, of course. Turn them against each other and all that. While I could have simply killed them, that would be much too prudish. Save them for the end, make the climax all the more enjoyable.

It was going to start off with Ponyville first. Just a cute little town out in the country. Filled with such nice, sweet, innocent ponies too. It had been much too long since I have tasted your flesh. Heard your screams. Felt your organs be squashed in your easily squeezable bodies. The temptation was almost too much to bear. But a millennia of being trapped in stone had taught me something. The wait was always worth it.

Once I had turned Ponyville into a crater in the earth, I was going to move onto Canterlot next. I can just look at the citizens’ faces when I swoop right in. Start off with fire, then maybe a little hack and slash fun. Why, there were so many ponies there, I had all the time in the world to slaughter and murder in my leisure.

Best for last would be those princess that trapped me in stone in the first place. Those delightfully adorable alicorns. In my time of entrapment I had hatched plot after insidious plot for what I’d do to them. Each one culminating to a grand re-emergence of my supreme rule over Equestria. And to start things off, I thought sinking Manehatten in the ocean would be an excellent appetizer.

But unfortunately, I was defeated. Again. And in less than an hour, I might add. By those pesky bitches that used those damn Elements and the power of friendship. More like power of cliched plot lines and deus ex machinas, but whatever.

So before I could move onto my real fun, I was once more sent to my stone prison without bail or even a phone call. But no tears my jolly good friend! For I had a backup plan!

Quite simple, really. I just ‘implanted’ the idea of me being able to be reformed into Celestia’s mind. Heck, I did Luna too, to sweeten the deal. Those two were the only ones that knew of my more... nefarious activities in the past. Once I wiped that clean from their noggins and made it seem like I was an annoying trickster, I was golden.

Surprise, surprise, when a few months into my sentence Celestia was getting ideas about me getting reformed. I wonder why the sudden change of heart? So the idiotic twat thought it was such a wonderful plan to have Fluttershy reform me with the Elements of Harmony used as backup. I was nearly bursting at the seams in laughter that I was sure a couple of cracks appeared on my statue.

Now here was the really funny part. I played along with it. For kicks, you know. Sure, I could have easily been freed and killed you all at that very moment, making sure the Elements could never be used against me again. But no, I had a much grander plan in mind!

See, I was going with a different, more devious route in mind. Instead of coming back with a vengeance, I was going to actually go along with your reform bullshit. Different gimmick than how I usually roll, but hey, I wouldn’t be the Spirit of Chaos if I stuck to the bland and overused concept.

I still can’t believe how everyone fell for it so easy. I mean, seriously, my performance was so terrible and fast-paced, I’m surprised you didn’t see how rushed it was. But horrible acting aside, I was in, and everyone was just hunky-dory with my new ‘reformed’ self. Damn, I had to hold back giggling like a schoolfilly each time someone said that word.

Eventually, the moment to start my grand scheme had arrived. With you, to be more specific. You really are the centerpiece in my game, you know. The first pawn, and the last checkmate. A real honor is what it is.

Too bad you can’t appreciate it fully. Anyone ever told you it’s bad manners to not continue in on a conversation with a guest? Really now, I expected more from a princess.

Oops, silly me. You still have the gag on. Here, let me just get that off you real quick...

---

“Oh dear Celestia, somepony help me!”

“Shhh, there’s no need for that here,” I whispered, holding a claw over her mouth to quell any further screams. “Besides, no one can hear you anyways. Just you and me, down here for tea time.”

“P-please,” she begged, her voice muffled by my claw as tears trailed down her eyes. “Just let m-me go. I won’t t-tell anyone what h-h-happened. I promise.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I chuckled, my nostrils flaring as I took in the delectable smell of her fear. “We both know you’re too much of a goody-two-hooves to keep a deal like that.”

“What do you want with me then?” she asked, her voice quivering with terror in the blind darkness she was in.

“My dear, had you been listening to me at all while I was speaking?” I said in a disappointed tone a mother would save for her children. “You really need to learn to pay attention more. Though it could be the head wound you had just received...”

“Why is there blood all over my face?” she asked,  her movements hidden in the darkness, even to me.

“Well, that’s what head wounds usually do. Leak out a bit,” I explained, licking my paw as the taste of her blood send my body into an ecstasy driven shudder.

“I feel funny...” she muttered, her voice now with a touch of uncertainty around the edges.

“That funny feeling is your body dealing with the blood loss,” I said. “Also, the loss of an important body part. You’re an alicorn, sans the horn now.”

“Wh-what? My horn... is gone?” she practically shouted, thumping the back end of her chair against the wall as she redoubled her efforts to break loose.

I rolled my eyes, but the sarcastic effect was lost in the blackness of the room. “Um, duh. I just told you that. Are you paying attention to me at all?”

“What the hell did you do with it?” she yelled, trying her hardest to be free of the ropes holding her forelegs, back legs, and body to the chair she was trapped to. If the lights were on it would have been a pretty funny scene.

“Hey now, that isn’t language for a princess,” I giggled, holding up a bloody paw to my face to keep from laughing out loud. “No one likes a pottymouth.”

I grabbed ahold of her hair and yanked hard, pulling her up by the roots and throwing her across the room, to where she slammed against the opposite wall with a resounding crash. Moaning greatly from her new downed positioned, I followed the sound of her voice to where she lay.

“I may be overconfident at times, but I’m not an idiot. I had to make sure you couldn’t use any magic to get away from me. Can’t be tarnishing my good name, so early in my plans. Plus, your horn will make for an excellent toothpick when the time is right.”

“Why...” she whispered, a sob escaping her. “Why do this to us?”

I couldn’t help but smile as wide as possible from this question. No matter how much I had it, it always brought a cheer to my heart. All four of them.

Picking her chair up, I leaned it against the back wall, her continued groans of pain bringing me even more cheer. Leaning down so that my face was only inches from her’s, I whispered, “Really now? I thought you were smart enough to figure it out by now.”

“You’re sick,” she growled in contempt, spitting on my face. “The others and I should have never tried to help you. You haven’t changed at all.”

I slowly wiped the spit on my face, grinning madly. It was just so cute when they started throwing bodily fluids at me. Though I was hoping it would be a much redder variety she’ll spit out next, once I have my fun.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” I replied back, tapping her forehead where her horn used to be. She gave out a hiss from the agony of her new wound. “I’ve gotten smarter. More cunning. And all around as vile as can be.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” she said, though the confidence backing her voice was sorely lacking. “The other princesses and Elements will stop you.”

“And that’s what I’m hoping for,” I assured her, standing back up. “And you’re going to watch each one of them try to stop me. Each one of them failing horrifically turn after turn.”

“But why me?” she asked, her repeated questions annoying me to no end.

I held up my lion’s paw, the claws fully extended for the fun about to be had. “Remember when I told you what made me have Anti Personality Disorder? How if I had a knife, would I stab you in the back? Want to know the answer?”

She gulped hard, but couldn’t quite stop the shaking of her voice to reply back.

“I wouldn’t.” I could hear a release of breath in relief from her. “For one thing, your back is against the wall. Makes it impractical for inflicting back wounds.”

A flame suddenly flared to life in the palm of my paw, the fiery light illuminating the dank room. And there was Twilight, all dirtied up in her fancy princess outfit, her face beaten black and blue with a broken off stub where her horn used to be. If I had a camera, I would make that my Hearth’s Warming Eve card in an instant.

“Besides, I find fire a much slower, refined process,” I said, my smile impossibly wide on my gore-ridden face as a bit of drool collected in my lower lip. I showed off the flame to her, the light casting shadows over the terror stricken face of Twilight the hornless alicorn. Classic children’s novel right there.

“Now, why don’t we make Twilicorn some popcorn?”