It didn't take all that long to get back to Canterlot, really. Not from Ponyville. Maybe an hour's ride at the most, depending on the pace being set by the workers pulling the train. I understand the logic behind it, but I wonder who came up with the idea of putting living ponies in front of a huge, heavy machine of steel and fire? Sounds like one of those dangerous risks that automatically trumps all the benefits if you ask me. I mean all one of 'em would need to do is trip, and...yeah.

Anyway, it was around one in the afternoon when we arrived, but we barely had a chance to take ten steps off of the train platform before a royal messenger arrived to deliver a letter to me. I think he was waiting there for me to show up. The letter itself was a sealed scroll with the royal mark on it, so I could only assume it was from Celestia. Luna certainly hadn't been around long enough to get her own royal seal, and I doubt she'd use her sister's cutie mark if she had.

The message was simple enough: drop Spike off at home, and then go to see her. She and I needed to talk. That gave me chills. This was something she couldn't just wait to talk to me about, which probably meant that she'd either found something that was alarming to her...or she'd looked into me and found nothing anywhere, which was even worse. I cleaned up my worst offenses, but I left some things out there. Something that would seem less suspicious than nothing at all. Like I said before, I wasn't stupid about this.

That, however, did not stop others from tampering with my files somewhere out there in the world, or worse, having me convicted of something I've never done before. Something horrible, like pony trafficking and yes, you can be sure as shit that that still happens. You just need to shine a light in the darker corners of Equestria to spot it. The signs are there. The bigger question is whether the ones in power notice or care. There's good money in it, after all. Someone no one cares about being repurposed while they line their pockets with thousands of bits? I can think of a lot of nobles, guards and even crooked police that'd get in on that action. I even know a few!

The streets were teeming with ponies going to and from their own destinations, conversations taking place while nobles on trips climbed into their carriages or, if they were particularly rich, one of those newer gasoline-powered vehicles the minotaurs make. I personally didn't like those things. They stunk up the big cities with their emissions, and for the same reason I hated cigarettes, I didn't much like having one of them drive near me or past me.

Still, a symbol of status is a symbol of status I guess. For me, it was my cigars. Smoking wasn't exactly something a lot of ponies did, because the habit's pretty expensive. Just puffing on my cigars in public is the equivalent to saying 'I've got so much more money than like ninety percent of Equestria, I can afford to buy Celestia as a hooker for a week.' Well, something like that.

Cigarettes are a bit more popular with the less fortunate population of Equestria, and especially in The Tauron Republic and Griffonstone Empire. You should see the commercials about the 'health benefits of smoking'. Quite frankly they're hilarious in how blatantly they're lying. You'd think the law would step in and stop them from basically saying 'Here, have a burnable death-stick that you inhale into your lungs and poison yourself with! It's good for you and definitely not addictive!' on national television.

Yes, I'm aware that cigars have tobacco in them too. Shut up. I can be a hypocrite all I want. Do as I say, not as I do.

In any case, we made our way back home quickly. Members of the Royal Guard were already there waiting for me, including a few that had taken a liking to Spike and a pair standing in harnesses attached to a smaller carriage. I didn't always leave him at the house with a foalsitter when I went to the castle. Sometimes he got to sit with some of the guards or other spectators in the training grounds and watch me spar with them. It's only natural that at least a couple of them would warm up to him.

Celestia really did think of everything when it came to stuff like this. Whatever she wanted to talk to me about was an urgent matter in her mind, and without a foalsitter guaranteed to be on-call at the moment and Cadance being all the way in Cloudsdale still, she wanted to be sure that Spike wouldn't be left home alone.

I gave the two guards that had been sent simple instructions. You know, keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get into the ice cream or the gems or gem dust, if I'm not back in an hour there should be something quick you could throw in the microwave in the kitchen somewhere, that sort of stuff. I couldn't really dawdle around and give them instructions right down to the letter.

With that, I was out once more and in the carriage provided. I had it in my mind to walk to the castle, but she had decided to simply offer me a ride through her soldiers. I wasn't complaining. It had been a trying couple of days, and the less strain on my bad hindleg the better.

The minor interactions with the guards at the front gate weren't all that important. Damascus was his usual self though. I'll talk about him some other time. He's a lady's stallion and knows he can't get into my pants, but that doesn't stop him from playfully trying to every time we interact. He's the kind of guy I'd gladly have a drink with pretty much any day of the week.

Anyway, I knew where to go. While I've been in Celestia's chambers on a number of occasions, most of the time she and I met in her lounge, if only because her chambers were hers and no one else's. Pictures of long-dead lovers, belongings preserved from thousands of years prior...numerous things like that. Things that were important to her, beyond her duties to Equestria. They weren't things you left out where businessponies, foreign diplomats and the like might see and ask questions about.

Admittedly I didn't see the issue with it, but as I stepped into the lounge once more, and the doors closed behind me, all thoughts of such things left me. They no longer mattered compared to the dread I felt when I looked at numerous folders laid out on the table where she and I normally have our tea.

She was sitting at the opposite side of the room, looking out from the partially opened balcony into the courtyard below. The design of the castle allowed for a rather large garden to be built in the middle of it, and the lounge was one of the rooms located on the inside of the castle's walls, giving it a beautiful view of a vast majority of what was already a massive garden. It even had a hedge maze that spanned miles, along with being enchanted to be deliberately confusing even if you try to map it out in your head. You go in, you're supposed to get lost in it for several minutes, then find your way back out.

"I do so dislike dancing this dance."

I forced my nerves to steady themselves while I approached the table. "Why, because it's me?"

"No," she said, slowly shaking her head while turning around, approaching the table as well. "Because if this is the dance I have to partake in, it means that someone with the power to influence my country from within has made a terrible mistake, or worse."

"Then don't dance. No one's forcing you to." I muttered, shivering as I saw my name on several of the documents once I reached the table.

"Unfortunately, because of the position I'm in, I must insist," she said to me, cracking a weak, half-hearted smile before sitting down on her side of the table. "Take a seat."

I moved to slowly sit down, looking across the table at some of the papers. "I asked you not to do this."

"You admitted to committing murder," she said without missing a beat, staring at me forlornly. "As I said before, I must insist."

"I only killed ponies that deserved it. Intentionally, that is."

I never thought I'd actually feel bad about Celestia giving me a disappointed look. Sure enough, I found myself sulking a little when she glared at me. Maybe that was what Spike felt like when I scolded him for doing something he knew he wasn't supposed to be doing.

She sighed and looked down at the table, glancing over the papers. "No one deserves death, Twilight."

I just...I sat there and stared at her for a moment. I stared in disbelief at what I'd just heard. I actually couldn't believe what had just come out of her muzzle.

"...Wow," I muttered breathily, blinking a few times. "I never thought I'd hear something so naive from you."

The look she gave me was a mix of confusion and surprise, if I remember correctly. I wonder if anyone had ever called her naive before? She really was, and I couldn't honestly be sure of why she would think in such a way. After living such a long time, how could she?

She regained her composure quickly. "I am thousands of years your senior. You have no right to call me naive."

"So a child rapist destroys the innocence and purity of some five-year-old, and he's caught. He doesn't deserve to die?" I asked, tilting my head a little.

"No. He deserves a chance at redemption. Psychiatric help, and time in prison." she responded without batting an eye.

"Okay. So one day he's released and 'reformed' according to the doctors in charge of him," I said, leaning on the table a little, one foreleg resting against it. "Then mere hours after his release, he captures and rapes three little fillies. Then he kills them so they can't tell anyone what happened to them. He learned from the last time he was caught."

She narrowed her eyes and actually snorted at me. How undignified.

I sat up a little and took a deep breath. "What would you think then? What would you say to their families if you knew? If you had just executed him...three foals would be alive and well. Their innocence intact, their lives untainted."

"There's no way to truly know what's going on in a crazy pony's mind. The doctors failed in their job," she said slowly, shaking her head. "You cannot blame the law for failing to execute someone if help is available and those in charge of making sure that help takes root fail in their job."

I knew she was lying. I knew that she knew she was lying. There were ways. Invasive, potentially scarring ways to look into the minds of others. I chose to avoid the topic entirely, for fear of her questioning how I would know anything about the subject in the first place.

"So instead it's better to risk such a thing happening? After the wars you've fought in recorded history, I'd have thought you'd take this lesson to heart," I said, smirking just a little. "When you have your enemy cornered, give them no quarter. If you do, they will come back wiser, more cautious, and far more dangerous."

"Is that what the mentally ill are to you, Twilight? Enemies to be exterminated?"

"Only the ones that wantonly kill innocent ponies, the ones that extort family businesses and drive them into poverty," I growled, clenching my teeth. "Ones that ruin the lives of ponies and present a legitimate threat to everypony else in the world."

"Where do you draw that line then? No one is completely innocent, no one is perfect. Who decides where that line is drawn?" she asked me, and I frowned at that. "You? Me? One of the guards standing outside this room? Who, Twilight? Who?"

"The better question is, who drew the current lines in the first place? Maybe we should get a group like that together again so they can re-evaluate the wisdom of those that came up with those laws to begin with," I muttered. "Banning the death penalty was one of the worst decisions you've ever made."

"So I have been told, on numerous occasions," she sighed out, glancing down at my papers again. "But we are not here to discuss morality and ethics. We are here to discuss you."

"But you-!"

"Twilight," she said softly, frowning a little. "For what it's worth, and this does not leave this room...I don't entirely disagree with you. Neither of us is entirely right, or entirely wrong. Our society simply hasn't found that answer we need to fill the gaps in our legal system yet. I don't believe Equestria has grown enough to find it yet."

I exhaled slowly and tried to do my best to cool my head. This was a subject that I was actually pretty passionate about, to the surprise of several peers that I talked with. If the law were more strict, maybe the Mafia wouldn't be able to exploit it so easily and weave around it like rats in the shadows!

She shuffled several papers, before coming to a stop at one of them and setting it down in front of me. "The police report of the home invasion when you were six. No signs of forced entry through any potential entrances in the house, not even a broken lock. No broken windows, no nothing. Yet, they shot your Father in the knees, your Mother in her flank, and one of them stomped your hindleg into such a mess, it never healed properly. Nothing was stolen. Am I reading all of this correctly?"

"Yes. A home invasion gone wrong." I muttered, the muscles in my body tensing as she looked at me once more.

"I find it strange that they would simply leave after inflicting such injuries upon your family. Surely none of you could fight them off so well in the state you all were in?" she asked quietly.

I could tell that she didn't enjoy doing this to me. I knew that she hated doing this. Still...I couldn't help but be angry at her. I told her to wait until I was ready to talk about this. I gave her the benefit of the doubt yesterday, now she throws it in my face not even a full day later!

"My parents are unicorns. It's not hard to throw furniture."

"According to pictures taken of the foyer," she said, using her magic to slide several black-and-white photos out in front of me. "No furniture was overturned. No bullets had missed their mark, and there was no blood sprayed anywhere. Neither your Father or your Mother are trained in magical combat. At best, they could throw the intruders around, but there would be signs of such a thing. Furthermore, one of the intruders was a unicorn. The lingering magic signature the police found confirms this, though they could not identify who it belonged to."

I watched her stand up and step back from the table, her magic levitating multiple papers up for her to read over while I ground one of my forehooves into the edge of the table, my temper beginning to get the better of me. I felt like I was in a police station, and the interrogator had me dead-to-rights. What would come next? Waterboarding maybe? I've done that before. Fun to do, not so fun to experience. At this point, I wouldn't put it past this royal traitor I called my friend.

"The part that bothers me the most is just how half-hearted this entire investigation was. Your house was kept on a bare minimum of observation for only two days before it was called off, despite the egregious nature of the assault upon you, and your parents. It's almost as if someone didn't want this incident getting any attention," she muttered, her ears twitching a little towards the balcony doors, a sound from outside distracting her only for a moment before she returned her attention to me. "How strange that the Chief of Police suddenly got the bits needed for his vacation to Saddle Arabia right around that time as well."

"Yes. How strange indeed." I muttered, struggling to stop the trembling I was beginning to feel throughout my body. You can't understand how upset I was. You really can't.

She set the papers down, and didn't bother to pick any others up. I don't think the other papers interested her very much. She'd honed in on those from the moment we sat down. I glanced down at the photos for a moment, then back up to her, lightly brushing them aside with a hoof. I had no interest in what they were showing.

Truly, I hated thinking about back then. It made my mind wander to other thoughts automatically. Thoughts like 'What would my life have been like if I'd grown up without getting a taste for killing?' and 'I've been very lonely without my friends. I wonder what they're doing with their lives?' and 'I fucking hate my parents for doing this to me.' You know, the sort of thoughts that make your blood begin to boil. Then you see red and oh geez, where'd this corpse come from and how can I get rid of it without getting caught?!

"This is when it started, isn't it?" she asked me curtly.

"I told you that I would tell you about this one day." I whispered, my voice shaking just a little. It was getting very difficult to restrain myself.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. How involved is your brother? The Captain of the Guard?" she asked, but even in my current state, I could hear her voice wavering.

"He was never involved. They held his lack of involvement over me as a threat. If I slipped up, they would've gone after him in a heartbeat," I responded in a dull tone, glaring up at her. "I also pushed all of my childhood friends as far away from me as possible, to make sure the risk of them getting involved was reduced."

"What could you have offered them that would stop them from going after your brother?"

"They took me and held a gun to my head," I muttered, my voice trembling a little more. "Told me they'd kill my family if I didn't do what I was told. They gave me a gun. Put some mare in front of me, told me to shoot her in the head. I was only six."

She just stared at me, and the words just came tumbling out of my mouth. I had to keep some semblance of control though. Above all else, I couldn't tell her the complete truth. I knew that even through all of my anger.

"So I pulled the trigger! I kept doing it, and they made me do it over and over and over, almost every day! When they didn't have me doing that, they had me carrying letters between businesses they owned," I continued, my forehooves pressing down on the top of the edge of the table. "But what they really wanted me for? They wanted me for my ability to comprehend magic so easily!"

I laughed and reached up to brush my mane back, staring up at the ceiling. "They wanted me to make magic even their dumbest of goons could understand, but when they realized that I'd taken a liking to all the killing they made me do, they had me do...other things."

I heard her take a steadying breath. "What...what were those other thi-"

"No!" I suddenly shouted, slamming my forehooves down on my side of the table. "You don't get to ask questions anymore! It's my turn now."

I clenched my eyes shut, and I felt a tear trickle out of the corner of my eye. When had that gotten there? I focused on my breathing to try to steady myself and calm down, but it wasn't working all that well. I was thoroughly triggered, and I already knew what I'd have to do to really get rid of this...this urge I had deep down.

"How aware are you of your own faults, Celestia? Because I'm very aware of mine," I said slowly, feeling my throat quiver as the urge to sob rose up within me. "I'm a murderer. I smoke cigars. I have trouble trusting others, and oh, I thought I was bad about that but you take the fucking cake!"

Apparently I'd hit her right where it mattered, because she stared at me with this hurt look in her eyes, and fuck me, but I relished it at the time. I wanted to hurt her, wound her in some way, and I didn't really care how at the time. All that mattered was that I was upsetting her, and I wasn't finished digging in to my metaphorical feast.

"You couldn't even trust me. Me, of all ponies! No, you just took me on as your student and groomed me like a-a fucking pet project!" I shouted at her. "You couldn't even trust me enough to tell me what was going on when the fate of Equestria was in the balance, and I gave you a pass on it! I let bygones be bygones! I rolled with it!"

I actually hopped up on the table. I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I just looked at those papers again and I had the strongest of urges to mess them up. I get a lot of strange urges when I get like this, and believe me, it's rare that I've ever actually wound up all twisted inside like I was in that moment.

I stomped my way across the table and kicked the numerous folders and papers off of it as I approached her, paying no mind to them all fluttering through the air and falling oh-so-slowly to the floor. I didn't care about the papers compared to the big white, pastel-maned alicorn staring at me in surprise, and even some slight measure of fear. Likely not fear of what I could do to her, but of the fact that she'd never seen this side of me before. I've been told the way my eyes get is terrifying.

I pointed my hoof in her face, clenching my teeth. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt, and it's like you couldn't wait to just throw it in my face!"

"T-Twilight, I-"

"I believe I said it was my turn now!" I roared at her, stomping the hoof I had been pointing at her face down onto the table. "You shut your mouth and you listen!"

You have no idea how satisfying it is to see her mouth hang open for only a second before suddenly clamping shut. I wonder how long it had been since anyone had ever, and I mean ever, talked to her this way? Someone needed to, and they needed to do it more often.

"I told you that I would tell you when I was ready. One would think that that would communicate that I'm asking you to drop the issue, but no, you couldn't do that," I muttered, my breathing heavy as I restrained the urge to punch her square in her face. "You couldn't even wait a single day! The moment I get back here, you've dug up who knows how much of my past, a past that I said I wanted to leave behind."

She scowled at me, but I could see her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. "You admitted to murder!"

"Yes! I did! I also recall you mentioning something along the lines of me proving I'm beyond the pony I used to be! But that was just you playing me like a fiddle again, wasn't it?" I said with a wide grin...that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"No, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck. You."

I turned sharply and hopped off the table, walking around it and making a beeline for the door. "I am formally requesting an indefinite break from my studies under you. I will come back when I feel like I can trust you to be square with me."

She didn't answer me. I could hear her voice hitching whenever she tried, and I knew she was on the verge of crying. I didn't even feel bad about it.

Finally, she found her voice. "R-request...granted, my s-s-student."

With that, I firmly banged my hoof against the door twice, and the guards outside pushed the thick, soundproofed door open so I could leave. I looked back, and the last thing I saw was Celestia collecting all of the papers she'd found on me in her magic, and setting them on fire in the air above her. I left without a word, the guards looking at me in confusion for a moment. No doubt because of the scowl I had on my face as I left.

Oh, I was mad. I was beyond mad, I was furious. How dare she? How fucking dare she?!

I barely noticed as I power-walked out of the castle and took the same carriage back home. All I could think about was how much I wanted to hurt her...because she so willingly chose to hurt me.

I did at least treat the guards with a certain level of respect once we got back to my house and I'd cooled my head a little. That fire in my chest had died down enough that I could feel all the underlying emotions hidden away by it, and I regained some semblance of control over myself. I was still shaking, but I did have the mind to thank them for watching Spike and calmly dismissing them so they could return to their duties.

I turned to Spike once they were gone, the little dragon busy tucking some playing cards back into their small box. I quirked a brow at that and walked over to him, noticing two shiny bits sitting on the table in front of him.

"Where'd you get those from?"

He looked up at me, then grinned. "They taught me how to play Poker!" he said with a toothy grin, picking the bits up and holding them up in the air to show them off. "I won two bits for playing good!"

See, this is the sort of thing that no one prepares you for. No parent sits you down and tells you how to deal with your foreign-species future son learning how to play a gambler's game, nor do they tell you how exactly you should handle it based on your child's personality. Not to mention I wasn't in the mindset to give that sort of thing much thought at the time.

"Well, good for you!" I said with a half-hearted smile, gently stroking a hoof over the spines on his head.

He just laughed at that and looked at his two bits, licking his lips. "Can I buy some candy with 'em Mom? Please?"

I slowly nodded to that. "Sure, hun. I'll take you out to get some candy tomorrow. I need to do some shopping anyways."

He jumped a little in his excitement, but as he stared up at me, his smile faded. "Are you okay, Mom?"

"Hm? Of course. Why do you think there's something wrong?"

"You just look rilly sad," he said, fidgeting a little. "Can I help?"

"Aw, honey..." I muttered, slowly laying down next to him and holding a foreleg out towards him. "C'mere."

He quickly put his bits back on the table and practically ran right into my embrace. It's one thing to hug another pony, but there's something special to me about getting a hug from Spike. His body is remarkably warm for a reptilian creature, and he really puts his all into it. He's a very loving little guy.

I felt his arms curl around my neck while I curled my extended foreleg around his back, pulling him close while his claws pulled against the back of my neck and hugged me tighter. I rested my chin on top of his head, and as we stayed there in silence, I slowly rocked back and forth with him in my grasp, humming the tune of a recent bit of music that had come out that we both liked listening to.

His hugs were always the best, but I'd learned a while back that even he couldn't help me with this. It wasn't just about Celestia, or the numerous feelings I had regarding what she'd done. She had every reason to, and I knew that she had to, but...I couldn't help feeling the way I did. I felt several things, now that the rage had died down. Remorse, guilt...but the anger was still there. It wasn't going away. It never went away. No amount of adorable hugs would ever change that.

Still...his hugs were very comforting and wonderful. Nothing would ever change that either.

He didn't want to let go of course. He liked hugging me, and I couldn't blame him for that. But, all good things must come to an end. All things decay, as I've learned over the course of my life. Civilizations, living creatures, friendships, and even the comfy adorable hugs of a child that just wants to make you feel better.

"Thanks, Spike," I whispered, slowly letting him go. "I'm going to my study for a while, alright? You remember the rules?"

He stepped back and nodded, smiling a little. "Always knock before I come in?"

"Mmmhmm! I just need a little time to myself. I'll tell you what's got me feeling bad later, before I go out tonight," I said, standing up and flexing my bad hindleg a couple times to work a kink out of my ankle joint. "For now, you can watch some TV. Sound good?"

He did, of course, agree. If there's one thing the youth of Equestria love, it's a chance to ignore reality in favor of a fantastical tale woven in the format of a black-and-white movie. I mean hey, even I love a good movie now and then. That one movie star from Appleloosa, Braeburn? Fuckin' stud. Shame he's actually gay. I'd love to take him for a ride, on either end!

Spike had gotten used to me having the occasional night when I just stayed out and didn't come home until the next day. I had a few foalsitters in mind already, even before I reached my little book I kept in my study. I picked up the phone and sat down in my lounge chair, dialing a few numbers and making a few calls before finally getting one of them to watch Spike for the night. It wasn't all that hard to get a few dedicated foalsitters for him, considering I paid well. Especially for the overnight foalsitting jobs.

Now, some might say I'm a bad Mother for doing that to my kid. I say it'd be even worse if I just kept bringing random ponies back to the house, and let him see me haul them off to my room where he would probably get curious about the banging and crashing and very, very loud cries and moans. Besides...I had other things on my mind besides getting some tail.

I knew I wasn't mentally in a good place. I'll admit that wholeheartedly. That didn't stop me from making arguably bad decisions. I'm a grown mare, I can fuck up all I want. All I care about is whether my fuck-ups will influence Spike in any way.

But, it would be a couple hours before I was ready to head out for the evening. So, I tried to occupy myself with a book, but that anger...I just couldn't sit still. Then again, even keeping active wouldn't help me, but it would at least prove to be a better distraction. I set the book aside and went into some normal push-ups, just a warm-up before I got into what I usually did to really keep my forelegs nice and strong.

My study isn't just a study in the true sense of the word. It isn't a chair, a fireplace, some eclectic antiques and a fireplace. Well, it's not just that. There's one corner I've dedicated to my physical fitness, including keeping my boxing skills fresh in my mind and my body. I had weights, civilian-grade magic dampeners I can fit on my horn to really work on my focus and test the strength of my horn, and of course, a punching bag. Not one of those newer ones, just a sand-filled one. Not good for minotaurs to train on, but it's fine for my harder hooves.

I went through the familiar motions, removing my clothes and folding them up, setting them down on the arm of my lounge chair before approaching the punching bag, raising up onto my hindlegs and getting myself into a proper stance. I knew why I was angry. I knew the source of the fire inside me. This wasn't going to make it go away by any means, but it would at least help me let off some steam.

I pictured Celestia's face, and my body did the rest.

Weave left, weave right, imagine the punches at my vital areas and guard them, pick my shots and throw my body into them. Ribs, liver, jaw, I'd always trained in private to fight as if my goal was to kill. Not simply to box and win through skill and perseverance, but to win by making sure they go down and stay down forever. Go for the throat, collapse their trachea, make their ribs shatter, whatever it takes. Boxing was just a way to give my will to kill a solid, efficient shape.

Sometimes though? Sometimes you're just so angry, you need to break something. You need to kill something. I was at that latter stage. Even as I began to lose my form and I simply began to wail on the bag, it did nothing to help sate my anger. It only urged me to swing harder, and harder, and harder!

I didn't even notice I was crying until I finally stopped to catch my breath and wipe the sweat off of my face. All I'd done was make the fire worse, and I almost couldn't wait until that foalsitter showed up. I grabbed one of the towels I kept next to the weights and wiped my face down, sniffling a little and slowly slumping down with my back against the wall, taking some deep breaths to try to calm myself down again. Just one more hour, and that foalsitter would be here, and I could get to work....

A series of knocks sounded off from the door, and I cracked a smile. "C'mon in, Spike!"

He pushed open the door with a twist of the knob, the little guy waddling in with a cup of water in his hand. At first I assumed it was just his, and he was coming up because his show was over, but when he offered it to me, I took it and I realized just how thirsty I'd gotten, over the last hour. I hadn't taken a moment to get something to drink, and I'm not talking about the fine wines I have locked up in a display case on the other side of the room. I mean something to actually hydrate myself.

I greedily drank down the contents of the glass, licking my lips once I was finished and setting it aside while Spike stood there, his arms behind his back while he twiddled one of his toe-claws against the carpeted floor.

I smiled over at him and patted his head. "Thanks, hun."

He grinned at that. "I came up earlier, but you sounded really really mad, so I thought I should come back later," he said, frowning a little. "Why are you mad?"

I sighed a little at that and tilted my head back, resting it against the wall. "Celestia and I had a pretty bad argument, and I said some bad things to her...and we aren't really talking to each other anymore. At least for a while."

He frowned at that. "Oh," he said quietly, tilting his head a little. "Why don't you apologize?"

"It's not quite that simple, honey," I muttered, sniffling a little. "We both said some bad things."

"But if you apologize, she'll apologize too, right?"

Oh, the innocence of youth. It pained me to think that just by me being a noble, he'll one day lose all of that foolish innocence. I wish the world could be as simple as he thought it was.

"Maybe," I said, cracking a weak smile. "She's always been nice at least."

"And she's your friend!" he said, looking for all the world as if he'd 'cracked the case' and he knew something I didn't. "Friends always forgive each other! Right? Even if they were really mean to each other!"

If you'd said something like that to me a long time ago...well, I would've agreed with you. But friends were few and far between for me, as in, I had none at all. I just had associates that knew not to cross me, despite my young age. They knew if they didn't manage to kill me fast, they'd be chopped up and scattered across the city. Probably components of hot dogs served in omnivore restaurants. Point is, a simple rule of friendship like that never would've mattered to me before.

"...Since when did my little dragon get all wise and smart?" I teased, setting the empty glass I had in my hooves down next to myself.

"But you always said I was smart!"

"Because it's true!" I said, holding my hooves out to him. "Now c'mere. Your Mom wants more hugs."

He blech'ed and waved his hands in front of himself. "No way! You're all sweaty and smelly!"

Ah, from the mouths of babes. Just for that, I leaned forward suddenly and ensnared him in my forelegs, pulling him face-first against myself and hugging him tight, smothering him in Mom-sweat and fur. He writhed and pushed against me, his head twisting this way and that before I let up a little, the little dragon eew'ing and pushing back off of me.

"Augh! I'm gonna die, you smell so bad!" he huffed, faking a few coughs.

"Aw, that's a shame. Oh well! I've heard dragon scales sell really well." I teased back, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Nuh-uh! Yer lyin'!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

I hmph'ed and snorted a little. "I see my son insists on questioning my honesty," I said, closing my eyes and adopting a more haughty tone. "It appears that I must punish him accordingly."

"Oh no...!" I heard him mutter, just before he began to struggle and climb his way out of my grasp, but I knew what he was up to. I had a good grip on him.

In an instant, I lifted him up and flipped him onto his back, and the nomming commenced. The little guy didn't even have a chance of surviving it. My teeth scraped at the softer scales of his belly, and his cries of squealing laughter echoed through my study, the final death knell of his little life. Poor Spike...we knew ye well.

With that, I hauled my stinky self and my now equally stinky son off to take a bath. I would've taken a shower, but after everything that had happened, I just wanted to spend some quality time with my son, more than I had already. Above all else, he was the perfect distraction from what I was feeling on the inside. He had plenty of toys to play with in the tub, and I was more than willing to play a game of sink-the-battleship with him.

By the time we got out of the nice hot bath, we had only ten minutes before the foalsitter showed up. He and I waited in the foyer for her to arrive, a saddlebag hanging from the left side of my body. All I needed were my own bits, a spare set of clothes, some latex covers for my legs, a facemask and some ingenuity tonight. I'd already had an idea of what I intended to do, aside from stopping in at Vinyl's nightclub.

The foalsitter I'd gotten for him tonight was one Shimmer Feather, a pegasus born with a unique genetic 'defect' that caused her feathers to be particularly shiny. It didn't impact her ability to fly at all, as long as she took extra good care of them. Personally I thought it was a nice perk, having extra-shiny, smooth-looking feathers in exchange for requiring more personal upkeep. Who in Canterlot didn't already have ridiculous levels of personal upkeep?

I had opted to wear something distinctly different, as usual. You didn't expect me to go clubbing in my suit, did you? Do you have any idea how expensive it is to get one of my suits properly cleaned every time they get dirty? I'm not on the Mafia's payroll anymore, that shit ain't a drop in the bucket! Someone spills their drink or pukes on me, that's a hefty sum to get that outfit cleaned!

I kept more casual clothes for occasions like this. Clothes I could throw into the laundry machine when I got home, clothes I didn't have to spend a horn and a foreleg to get washed...clothes I could afford to burn if need be, if you catch my drift. I had a spare set of clothes as a just-in-case.

As it stood, what I had on at the moment was so beneath my station that if a journalist saw me, they wouldn't be able to help themselves. Out would come the camera, snap-snap-snap goes the shutter, and onto the front page of a tabloid magazine I go, or at least the fifth or sixth page. Not that that doesn't happen occasionally as-is, I don't make a constant habit of going out. It's kinda old news that Twilight Sparkle likes to go out and party sometimes. I catch some flak from the other nobles for it, but overall, they don't have anything to complain about. I'm just a young mare supporting one of the newest shapes music's taking, that's all.

Oh, right, I'm wearing a pair of baggy brown sweatpants and a black T-shirt with the image of a newer rock band that had shown up at Vinyl's club a few months back. Their music was pretty rad, so I bought some merch. Even picked up a poster while I was at it. Don't think I ever put it up in my room though...maybe I should've gotten around to that. I think I still haven't gotten around to that! More important things on my mind.

She already knew the rules when it came to Spike, so the moment she had everything settled and in order with me, I was out the door and on my way. My first stop? The airship docks. I had decided on my method already, I just needed to get some rope that no one would truly miss if it disappeared.

The only sticking point to my plan was the issue with my magic at the moment. I had magic I could use, but the rupture in my mana gland made using more powerful magic dangerous, and the inhibitor on my horn encouraged me not to use said magic. It didn't stop me, but it definitely made it much harder to focus, and that meant that I couldn't use another dark magic I was fond of abusing, nor could I rely on my mind magic.

Body modification is exactly what it sounds like, but unlike mind magic, it carries excessive dangers for those it's used on, even if it's used properly. Imagine, if you will, a form of magic that allows you to temporarily alter your body. Change the color of your fur, your eyes, shorten or lengthen your horn, even make you spontaneously build muscle...all that magical miracle stuff. Well, do I have a story for you!

See, there was once a small, humble village of unicorns. They did their thing on a daily basis, but their village was so out-of-the-way, they rarely ever had any visitors. It was remarkably dull there, and a perfect place for a mischievous wizard to conduct a very questionable magic experiment.

One day, said wizard showed up, peddling a new miracle magic that could restore youth to the elderly, give you that perfect body you've always wanted, and all that good snake-oil-salespony bullshit. Someone volunteered to get the spell cast on them, and before they knew it, they were the most handsome stallion in the village, where before they had been stocky, plain and nothing special. Soon, the entire village was hooked on his spell.

Of course, the spell was temporary, but as he practiced it on more and more of the villagers, he refined it, and found ways to make it last longer. Soon, every single villager was stopping in at his established carriage, coming to pay him to 'top off' the spell cast on them, so they could retain their artificial perfection. He became rich off of the town in a matter of weeks.

Then, ponies began to age, and rapidly at that.

The elderly were the first to go. They all began to die off, and the middle-aged unicorns were next, their bodies rapidly aging under the extended influence of the spell. Pregnant mares had miscarriages, stallions went sterile, and soon, the village could no longer sustain itself because everyone was dead or far too old. When they began to panic and go to him for answers, they found he'd already fled the village. In just a few months, the village had been completely abandoned by the occupants that remained.

See, body modification feeds on the subject's magic. Not like, the magic in my mana gland, but the magic that saturates every inch of someone's body. It'll eat all of that up once the magic you used to cast the spell to begin with runs out, and it'll eat that magic up real fast. The effect is universal across species, tests have been done.

That's not to say that that magic doesn't have applications where it's allowed, under strict supervision. You can imagine that it can be useful in physical therapy and medicine. Me? I use it for far more reliable disguises than any illusion could manage. I just make sure that I give myself three to four hours when I use that magic, in case I need to retain the disguise for an extended period of time.

The idea of doing this without a disguise at all? Well, I guess I'd just need to be really careful.

I'd left the house at six o' clock, or at least around six, so I'd have plenty of time to prepare. Slinking my way into the airship docks unseen was the easy part. Not the first time I've done it. Getting the rope was also easy, though I had to slip around some evening dockworkers just getting off their shift.

I coiled the rope up tight and tied it onto the strap of my saddlebag, hiding the rope behind it. It was a bit moldy and old, but it would do. At least it wasn't soaking wet, like it would be if I'd gotten it from a dock at the seaside.

After sneaking back out, I went over what I knew of my target. I'd had him selected for a while now, whenever my urges welled up inside me again. He was a perfectly suitable target to scratch my very special kind of itch.

Charlatan Muse, an older earth pony stallion who did accounting work for the Mafia, alongside letting them use his place as a hideout if necessary. Accused of rape an astonishing twenty-six times by twenty-six different mares, and had foals with two of them. Managed to get custody of his two kids by way of the Mafia threatening the mares and smearing their public image until most of them denied the charges they initially accused him of. All of that just so he wouldn't get sent to prison and wouldn't have to pay child support. Combine all that with a few well-placed bribes and blackmails, and well...you've got a surefire victory in court.

He lived in a large three-bedroom house with his two kids in a decent neighborhood, so I needed to be discreet. I knew his routine well enough to know that he had a very, very early morning job that required him to go to bed at a pretty early time the night before, so either I'd encounter a very tired stallion...or a stallion already asleep in bed.

The only unknown was the kids. Where would they be, when I decided to deal with him? The sun was already setting, and in just a little while I'd have the darkness I needed to properly evaluate the situation before I made any decisive moves. In the meantime, I loitered around at a nearby cafe, enjoying a nice coffee while I waited for the sun to fully set.

I was used to staking out my targets. I couldn't afford to slip up, and caution is an assassin's best friend. I had to be absolutely sure this one died, without anyone ever seeing me in the area when his body's discovered. I didn't have the means to chop him up and scatter him around. I wanted this one to be found when I was done.

I found myself in the midst of a conversation with one of the cafe's patrons when I excused myself from the establishment, making up some excuse about needing to get going to get back home, the street lights beginning to flicker on as darkness descended over Canterlot. It was time for me to play my favorite game.

There are two ways to kill someone in my mind: the professional way, or the psychotic way. While I consider myself a consummate professional while I'm on the job, this was more an act of pleasure than anything else. Stress relief. If the rope wasn't obvious enough, I was leaning towards the method that represented slow, cruel death over the quick and, by comparison, painless method.

I left the cafe heading in the direction of the ghetto, but the moment I got the chance, I slipped into an alleyway between two taller buildings and went the long way around and walked back into the neighborhood his home was at. Already, my heart was beginning to beat faster in my chest, and I could feel the anticipation of what was coming growing inside of me. This was the moment. This was where I decided someone else's fate tonight.

I stayed out from under the streetlights as I snuck my way behind several houses, ducking in behind his neighbor's garage and checking the area to make sure there weren't any windows facing me before I opened my saddlebag and took the time to ease the latex socks onto my legs. There was going to be some semblance of struggle from him, and the last thing I needed was my fur getting scraped off for the police to find. Latex isn't the most comfortable thing against fur, but I can deal with it for the time being. I'll take the security of not losing a strand of fur at the cost of my comfort any day.

I peeked my head out to make sure no one was watching. It was close to eight at night, and ponies were starting to return home and head out for the night, but I knew he'd still be at his house. He'd be in bed, and if he's as good a Father as I think he is (see: fucking abysmal), his kids are probably in bed too. They're also probably huddled together reading a comic or playing a game. I'd have to check the windows to be sure.

I slinked around the outside of the house, my ears perked up, swiveling this way and that, listening for the sound of anyone else, any carriages passing by, any unexpected animals that might have a few loud barks to send my way, or just gnaw on my legs if they decide to go straight for violence. Nothing so far. I peeked into the living room first, making a quick job of it before slipping around one side of the building. He had a fence and hedges around his house. I assumed he wanted his privacy to be as secured as possible, no neighbors able to peek into his house through his windows. Shame he forgot to put that fence around the front of his house...and that gate in the back didn't even have a lock on it.

No one was in the living room. The house was dark. The windows had the most basic of magic security on them, and all of my prior investigations of him didn't find any of that fancy electronic security crap the griffons came up with. From what I knew, I'd be fine slipping through one of the windows, if necessary. I could disable the security with ease, if I removed the inhibitor ring on my horn. I'd probably have to do that a couple times to pull this off without too much risk of detection.

I made my way around the left side and peeked into a bathroom window, which had curtains drawn. Sensible. The next room I found was his, but I couldn't go in there just yet. I needed to find out where those kids were. I had absolutely zero intention of harming them, for any reason, and them stumbling in on us would be bad for all parties involved. If they weren't settled in and I couldn't be reasonably sure that they wouldn't catch me in the act, I'd just have to wait.

As I made my way around the back, I found the back door to the house locked, but that could be dealt with just fine. I could see that it led into the house's kitchen, and it had tiled floors. Good thing I had those latex socks on, they helped to muffle your hoofsteps, long as you walked a certain way and you're careful about how your hoof hits the floor.

Around the right side of the house, I found the bedroom where the kids were at. One of them was sound asleep, and he looked fairly young. Maybe around Spike's age. The sibling was a filly, but she wasn't in bed. I could barely make her out in the corner, curled in on herself. She had a nasty bruise on her cheek, and her eyes were shut, her body surrounded by numerous plush toys. I suppose they were her comfort, after getting hit by her Father.

Welp. Now I had another reason to thoroughly enjoy killing him.

Okay, so the kids were asleep. I could work with that. I just needed to make sure this upcoming altercation didn't get too loud and wild. Even if it did, I just needed to lock that door to keep them out. They could run to get help, but I'd be done and gone before anypony showed up, of that I was sure. With my cutie mark covered and a facemask to hide my visage, I was confident I could pull this off without a hitch.

I went for the back door and looked over the magic security placed on it. Simple enough, easy to get through. I'd just need to remove the inhibitor on my horn for a short time, and put it back on before the rupture in my mana gland began to leak magic into my brain again.

I took a few breaths to gather my focus, then yanked the ring off my horn, immediately going to work on the lock. I felt the magic shift around in the tumbler, toying with the enchanted metal on the inside, worming into it and undoing it so it wouldn't trigger when I unlocked the door. Once that was done, it was trivial to unlock the locks and slip into the house undetected.

The smell of trash reached my nose and I recoiled a little. There were three bags of trash in the corner of the kitchen, far out of the way. No one had taken them out yet. There were unwashed dishes in the sink, and stained silverware sitting on the kitchen counter. Blech. If you're so lazy you can't even clean up after yourself, at least have the decency to use plastic utensils or something!

I put the inhibitor ring back on my horn and reached back to pull my facemask out of my saddlebag, quickly tugging it onto my head and tucking as much of my mane into it as I could. Uncomfy, sure, but once again I can deal with that. I quietly made my way through the house, my senses on high alert. This was a very sensitive position to be in. If I woke those kids now, I'd have to run and I'd have to run fast. If I woke Charlatan up, I'd also have to run, but there would also be a risk of him seeing my fur color or my tail and identifying me based on that.

A part of me screamed for me to turn around and go back out the door, lock it and never go back, but I knew how this went. There was always a moral part of me that told me I didn't need to do this. I shouldn't give up hope of finding another way. But no...this was always how that story ended. Someone would be dead, and I would enjoy it and be completely unrepentant about it. Period. End of story. I might repeat it ad infinitum for the rest of my life, but it will always have the same introduction, body and conclusion.

I walked slowly, carefully down the hallway, thankful for the carpeted floors of the rest of the house. That made my concerns about creaky wooden floors null and void, though creaks were always a risk. Chances were that the kids would just think I'm him, and I highly doubt the filly would come to take a look-see.

When I stood outside of his room, I gently pressed my ear against the door to see if he'd woken up for any reason. Nothing. Just a quiet snoring from the other side. I felt my insides trembling with the fear of being caught in the act while I reached for the doorknob, alongside the burning urge pushing me forward. It was almost time...almost time to turn him into my prey.

You can't imagine how this feels. You're probably not a psychopath like I am. The closest I can come to explaining it is like an addiction of the flesh, one that can only be satisfied in a specific and violent way. The pony who sates my urge will be dead by the time I'm done, and I won't have any regrets. I'll have quelled the fire within.

It'd been far too long. I was in withdrawal, and I needed my fix!

I normally have better self-control than this, but Celestia really set me off. I didn't entirely understand until I spoke to Spike, but the answer was simple. I trusted her. She was my friend. She was easily the pony closest to me, and she stabbed me in the back on top of manipulating me. That hurt me more than I realized back then. Now someone else was going to pay for her betrayals.

The knob turned with a light click, and I winced at the sound. I inched the door open, and peeked inside, just listening in the silence of the night to see if I'd woken him up. He didn't so much as shift around. I eased the door open slowly and stepped into the room. Even the sound of the bottom of the door brushing over the carpet seemed loud to me in that moment, but that was why I did it very slowly.

He laid there sleeping so peacefully...I wondered what it would have looked like, to someone that knew my true nature in moments like this. Would they see a predator, wearing a pony's skin, standing over another pony, ready to pounce? Would they simply see a nutjob youth taking her anger out on someone else in the worst way possible? Probably a little bit of both. I'm pretty sure I'm both, if you ask me. Very much insane.

I gently, very gently closed the door, and took my time in turning the lock in the doorknob, the dull click barely audible as it slid into position. I turned to look over at the bed, then examined the rest of the room. There wasn't much to say about it unfortunately, nothing I could use to really spice this up. Just a thick wooden desk, a bookshelf, and a closet full of things I didn't much feel like risking sifting through. I already had enough to work with.

His bed was tucked in against one corner of the room, a double bed, with the headboard facing the door I'd just walked in through. I walked around to the other end of it and removed the rope from the strap on my saddlebag, measuring out exactly how much I'd need to do what I had planned. Once I'd measured it out, I removed the ring on my horn and cut the rope off at the desired length, and tied one end to the frame of the bed on the end of it, and tied a noose on the other end.

He was laying on his front with his head facing his headboard, a pillow tucked under his chin. He didn't deserve even that small comfort he wallowed in. He shouldn't have won that case, but as always, money spoke in place of justice. Life's not fair that way. It was time for me to rectify that, even if just a little bit.

I put the ring back around my horn and sat there for a moment, mentally preparing myself for the incoming struggle. Also, I needed to let the ring bleed off my magic a little before I did this. I couldn't take chances, not when I was so close to what I so dearly wanted.

I think I sat there for three minutes or so, considering what I was about to do. He would respond instinctively in his hazy, half-awake manner once the noose was around his neck. I'd seen it numerous times. Ponies startled into action will always dart forward on instinct, sometimes breaking into a full-on sprint if they're particularly prone to panicking. It's our natural response to get away from danger. He'll lunge forward, and I'll tighten the noose...and then, he'll be all mine.

I removed the ring on my horn once again, and picked the noose up in my magic, hovering it just over his head. Still, he slept without a care in the world. I couldn't help but grin behind my facemask at how drastically that was going to change in just a moment.

It happened rapid-fire. I picked his chin up and quickly tucked the noose under his chin, the stallion suddenly jolting awake as I yanked the noose as tight as I possibly could. As I predicted, he jumped forward, only to gag himself on the rope around his neck. His back arched in what was probably a very unhealthy way, and that was my moment to jump into action.

I tucked the ring onto my horn once more and swiftly crawled onto the bed, moving over him and firmly seating myself on the middle of his back, ducking under the length of rope and letting it strain over my wither. I pressed myself down against him and reached under his forelegs, hooking mine around the front of them and twisting them back, firmly pulling them behind his back before he had a chance to put that beefy earth pony strength to use to resist me.

His hindlegs kicked and thrashed, and he gurgled and struggled against the noose, but already I could feel his panic kicking in. He twisted and tried to throw me off, but he was in no position to make me go anywhere. I was free to do as I pleased with him...so I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of him squirming in a desperate bid to save his own worthless life. I couldn't see his face clearly after all. Kind of took half the fun out of it.

Oh, but his forelegs were giving me trouble. He was strong, stronger than I anticipated, and the adrenaline flooding his system was doing wonders to give him that raw strength earth ponies were known for. I was having trouble keeping his forelegs pinned against his back, and his panic and desperation were making him buck his hindlegs and twist around far too hard for my liking. It was okay though. That strength wouldn't last too much longer, and it was beyond satisfying to see him flail like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap.

This was the moment I'd been waiting for. As the seconds ticked by, I felt his body begin to soften up under me, his struggles weakening as his choking, gagging noises began to die down. I turned my head and bit down on the rope, pulling hard on it to make sure I really wringed all the fight out of him. He seemed to flare to life once more, but only for a second, a gurgling 'hrrllggrrnngh' escaping his collapsed throat before he began to go limp once again.

I let go of his forelegs and reached up, coiling my forehooves around the rope...and with a sigh of bliss, I pulled as hard as I could. His head was forced back at an unnatural angle, and I could see his eyes bulging in terror, like he knew that this was it. It was ending right here and now for him, and he had no choice in the matter. His neck bent back much too far for any pony to do on their own, and with one final, glorious pull that I threw all my upper body strength into, there was a sick, muffled wet pop, followed by a couple more, and his head twisted to one side.

His body twitched and spasmed as I snapped his neck, followed by everything just going...still. Completely limp. I looked into his eyes and saw those dilated pupils staring at me for just a fraction of a moment, before rolling back in his skull. There was a final, cut-off gurgle from him before the room went silent, and all that could be heard was my own adrenaline-fueled, exhilarated panting.

I felt so good. So satisfied, so fulfilled, you have no idea! Nothing could ever compare, it was like walking on sunshine! I wanted to get up, dance and scream into the night in utter joy! That would have to wait until I got out of the house and far, far away from the neighborhood though.

In the aftermath of his murder I sat there on top of him, looking down upon my prey with a kind of warm pride inside myself that I took the time to revel in. No one would come to check on him. No one would truly care about his passing except perhaps his family, and his kids if they were stupid enough to believe that daddy gave two shits about them.

When I'd finally drank it all in, I got off of him and left him as he was, head pulled back by the rope, his body sliding down the bed's length a little now that I wasn't keeping him in place anymore with my own weight. I stared at my work for just a moment longer before rolling up the cut-off length of rope and stuffing it into my saddlebag, out of sight.

Getting out of the house was far simpler than sneaking in. I unlocked his door, stepped out, pulled it shut behind myself, and eased my way down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the same door I used to get in. I even locked it behind myself and reset the security before I slinked away, my facemask removed and tucked into my saddlebag, purposely buried under my spare set of clothes.

I made sure to quietly slip away from the neighborhood with as little fuss as possible, though even I won't deny that my excitement ensured that I was walking particularly fast. When I was far enough away, I ducked into an alley and I let all that joy out, hopping around in place and cheering in quieted squeals while I relived the memory of what had just happened in my head.

I could feel his muscles straining, twitching and trying to find a way to get me to let go! It was so exciting, feeling him strain under me, to hear him choke and struggle for breath, to feel him kick and scrape his hooves against his bedsheets. All in vain, when you're dealing with a pro like me. If I want you dead...you're going to die, and you're going to die how I want you to die.

A quiet, happy groan escaped my muzzle as I began removing my latex socks, folding all four of them up and setting them on the ground in the alleyway along with the length of rope I still had and my facemask. I removed the ring on my horn and, with a burst of magic, I set them ablaze, grabbing trash from a nearby trash can to act as more fuel for the flames. I sat there watching my garments burn until there was nothing left identifiable about them, then ran out of the alleyway, pep in my step and a song in my heart.

It didn't even feel like I'd been walking very far when I found myself in a more grungy part of town. Neon signs lit up the night, advertising various services to the enterprising young gentlecolt and/or lady, or simply the curious, from sex toy shops to outright brothels. None of that was what I was here for, however.

Vinyl Scratch was, like many I associate myself with, an enigma of a mare. I'd become something of a distant friend a long time ago, if only because she trusted my advice, way back in the day. Her club wouldn't be up and running if it weren't for my intervention, after all.

However, I never told her to extend her reach over a five-block radius once she was situated either. As I passed by these establishments, I saw stallions in suits everywhere, discreetly staying out of the way while ponies went about their business in the Red District of Canterlot. Guess whose paycheck they were on?

Prostitution wasn't illegal as long as you registered your, ahem, 'profession' and stuck to a very steady, rigorous schedule of weekly health check-ups. We may have magic to deal with various types of normally incurable virus-based diseases, but we still didn't want stuff like that just spreading around willy-nilly.

Vinyl didn't seem to have a problem with this either. She's very much a free spirit, and she shows it in her art, but once she had all that money...she did more with it than I've ever seen most nobles do with their millions. She got in contact with the houses of ill repute around here, all the small businesses, and worked out her own deals with them.

Fast-forward a few years, and you don't have prostitutes wandering the streets of this area. Oddly enough, the Red District was tasteful, for the Red District I mean. Sure, you had neon signs that were a bit provocative, but if you decided to browse their wares, it was your choice. You didn't just walk through and see like four mares winking their pussies at you and asking if you want to have a good time.

At the very center was a particularly large building, the heavy bass of thrumming music from within thumping in the air around it while young ponies around my age loitered in the street and on the sidewalks, chatting it up and getting in line to be let into the club. Me, I could've gone around and been let in the side door where the bands and other DJs get let in, but I wasn't here tonight to visit with Vinyl and her squeeze. I was here to party.

Fortunately, the bouncers at the entrance knew me. I didn't have to wait in line regardless of whether I used the back entrance or not.

This club was one of those things that stuck out in Canterlot, partially because of the owner, but also because of what it embodies. You go anywhere else in Canterlot, you'll get a nice little mellowed-out place full of ponies chatting and enjoying some swing music, maybe some ska or classical tunes, or Celestia forbid some awful country music that's been played on the radio like a million times over...but Vinyl's club was drastically different. Ahead of its time.

Clubs like this existed in minotaur lands, and even the griffons had something like it, but she took it to a whole new level. She's the kind of pony that comes along once in a lifetime, a natural savant of her art, and she let nothing keep her down on her way to stardom. I partially blame Octavia for that, but that's just conjecture on my part.

She crafted her speakers, her turntable, everything she worked with to make her unique brand of music. The less open-minded call what she does just making noise, but to me, it's music in a purer format. No rhyme or reason, just sound trying to form a beat that grabs the crowd and makes them puppets to her tune. I for one was more than glad to bask in the way that music makes me feel. A lot of younger ponies were these days.

The moment I stepped further inside, I could almost feel the music in the air. As soon as I stepped into the big, open room of the club, I was hit with wave after wave of loud, ear-splitting music that made me recoil only a little. I'd come to expect this sort of thing. Sounded like tonight, the stage belonged to some rock group. Or was it metal? I didn't care either way. It was the kind of music that would really stir the crowd up, and that was exactly what I was looking for to top off the night.

I didn't waste time trying to get into the crowd on my own. It's kinda embarrassing for me actually. I know how to dance at a ball, I know the motions, where to hold a mare or stallion why we danced, buuuut this kind of dancing wasn't really 'dancing'. The kind of dancing those ponies were doing out there encouraged you to just cut loose and let it all out. There was no rigid form to it. Problem for me was, when I do that, I look like an epileptic having a seizure. Yes, someone actually described it to my face as such.

When I dance with someone else though, I can follow their lead. That tends to work out far better for me. So, I went straight for the bar. The club didn't, or at least wasn't supposed to, allow minors in except under very special circumstances, myself being one of them. Now that I was sixteen, I didn't have to worry about those restrictions. When I was younger though, I could only come in under Vinyl's supervision.

She's around five years older than me, in case you were wondering. Just, putting that out there, because it might've been confusing otherwise. No, we've never had sex, and I don't think I'd ever want to...no matter how scrumptious she might be to my senses. That mare is property of Octavia, trademarked and everything. Encroach at your own peril.

I ordered a few drinks and let myself settle in, letting the music drown out everything else and take me away from reality for a while. Ponies were walking around, trying to talk over the loud tunes and thrumming bass filling the air, but for the most part, they were all content to just relax and become one with the crowd. It's the atmosphere the club creates, you see. You aren't an individual for very long here. Unless this just isn't your thing, sooner or later, you'll become one with the crowd. Another body merrily dancing along.

There was a guy I knew here. Drug dealer, dealt in more quality party favors. Normally I wasn't one to indulge, but there was a pretty cute stallion hitting on me, and I was already in such a good mood...fuck it, y'know? Why not? Might as well live a little.

One dose of ecstasy later, and I felt like my own fur was caressing my skin with the most loving of touches, let alone how he was starting to feel me up. I got nice and cozy with this new guy and...mm, well, we went to dance first, but he couldn't keep his hooves off me. I made sure to keep his hooves away from more personal places, but oh, he tried. Sorry buddy, can't have you finding out about my secret~! Not until I'm ready to tamper with your mind, anyways.

I was going to ride the life out of his cock before the night was over, I knew that without a shadow of a doubt. Oh yes...sometimes it just felt good to be bad.

Author's Notes:

Well, I got this one out pretty damn fast, considering the size! I've been looking forward to getting to this chapter for a while now.

This chapter also marks the very first time Twilight has killed anyone in the story aside from the first time when she was six! Before this, it was mostly her talking about her murdering ponies. Now we get to see just how she gets when she really gets to settle in and enjoy taking someone's life.

As for the music I listened to for this chapter...well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2OD-dV7j_I