"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Well, here my SI does something about it. Hardcore, old school style. Don't read if you're squeamish.
"Eyes, ears, nose, or mouth?" I quietly asked.
Within the Autodoc, Prince Blueblood whimpered softly, his eyes misting with tears.
"Eyes, ears, nose, or mouth?" I repeated.
Finally, Blueblood looked up at me as I loomed over him and quietly whispered, "E-Ears..."
"Left, or right?" I asked.
At this point, the stallion began to struggle, thrashing and screaming within his bonds--or he would have, had they been ropes. But they were not; powerful Psychic Fields held the terrified Prince to the Autodoc Biobed so tightly he couldn't move an inch. Once he realized that he wasn't going anywhere - that no amount of screaming would save him - resigned to his fate, the Prince uttered, "L... Left..."
And as Blueblood moaned with despair, gently and painlessly the Autodoc removed his left ear; then it was transported into Preservation that it might be given to one of the many mares he'd... wronged. Once the surgical procedure was complete, I softly spoke again.
"Eyes, ears, nose, or mouth?" I quietly asked.
Blueblood wept.
"Eyes, ears, nose, or mouth?" I repeated, my mind closed to the outside world. I would feel nothing as this monster - this abuser of mares and even young fillies - met his fate.
"E-Eyes..." choked he.
"Left, or right?" I asked.
"Right," he whispered, and so gently it was done.
In this manner - Blueblood choosing which part of himself to lose - the Weyr Autodoc carefully dismantled him. His ears. His eyes. His legs. His organs, one... by one... by one. All would be quietly given to pony hospitals desperately in need of organs for transplant patients. When at last Blueblood was reduced to naught more than his head, heart and lungs - hooked to a special life-support system that he continued to live even in this state - I softly intoned. "It didn't have to be this way. But, you and your friends kept sexually abusing mares and even little fillies for your amusement. This time, however, you picked the wrong filly to assault: my little adopted Honeydew Wisp. She'll have a new, scar-free coat thanks to you, though it'll never make up for the pain you caused her when you... well..."
I lapsed into silence for a moment.
"Iiiiii'm soooorrrryyyy..." slurred the blind Prince.
"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" I raged suddenly. "NEVER GOOD ENOUGH! 'SORRY' DOESN'T CUT IT THIS TIME. 'SORRY' WON'T MAKE AMENDS TO THE HUNDREDS OF MARES YOU'VE RUINED VIA PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE, NOT TO MENTION UNWANTED, ORPHANED FOALS!"
His heart, lungs, and finally his brain were the last things to be dismantled; the organs being sent to preservation and the brain wiped clean. Then, once there was literally nothing left - when Prince Blueblood had quite literally been dismantled completely - I located the nearest waste disposal unit and spilled my guts into it, puking and puking until there was nothing left to lose. Shortly thereafter, I cleaned myself up and headed to observation. There I found three very, very ill ponies, Twilight Sparkle having urinated upon the floor while Celestia had vomited and Luna was so pale her dark blue fur was as white as her sister's.
"Suffer... not evil... to live..." I stated softly. "No more sealing it away."
Three mares nodded... and then withered 'neath my gaze, before I turned and slowly walked away.
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Is this a "Take That" to 120 Days of Blueblood?
Holy shit, I wanted to toss Blueblood into a blast furnace after reading the shit he did.
shouldn't the Author's Note be on the top of the page instead of bottom, when its saying.
4049150 I don't know that story... but I don't think I want to know it...
4049745 Fixed.
Rarity might actually approve. Once she stops throwing up of course. Still, very good.