Do You Wonder?

by DismantledAccount

First published

Equestria's first, and last, serial killer recounts his tale and explains his simple reasoning. After all, asking questions is how we learn.

Equestria's first, and last, serial killer recounts his tale and explains his simple reasoning. After all, asking questions is how we learn.

Author's Note:
A short and twisted tale of vile deeds that I wrote in a hour.
I fully expect to get swamped with downvotes. But hey, I expected most of my stories to get swamped in downvotes, so who knows?

I Wondered.

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Looking out of my cell, I can see the sky. I wish you were here; I wish I could talk to you. I could offer so much to you; I could keep you from becoming me. I hope you never become me. There is no place for people like me, but I wasn’t always what I am today. It started small. So very small. . . .

I was like you. I never wondered. I was normal—happy. We were happy. But then I ruined it: completely by accident. While working in the mine, I triggered a cave in. I watched the rocks crush the life out of a pony.

And then the reality hit me: I just killed my best friend.

But I didn’t cry.

Instead, I wondered.

I wondered how it felt; I wondered why he screamed. I simply wondered.

I wondered if I could do it again.

I wondered if the rocks could paint the floor red.

But I was wise; I waited. But then the time came.

It was so simple to remove the support beams; the ceiling was so unstable.

But this time was different. He didn’t stop moving. Only his legs were pinned. He called out to me for help.

But I wondered.

I wondered what would happen if I crushed his head with the shovel.

I wondered what pretty colors were inside.

I blamed it on the rocks; nopony doubted me. But I knew.

And so I waited.

But every day, the wondering grew stronger.

But I couldn’t go back to the mine. They wouldn’t understand. I just wanted to know. So I wondered what to do next.

Staring out over the water, I smiled.

I wondered how long a pony could stay underwater. I wondered who would tell me. The answer was surprisingly simple: all I had to do was convince the mare to go swimming with me. I think that she assumed that I was flirting with her. It was fun while it lasted, but all things come to an end. Wrapping my hooves around her neck, I pushed her under the surface. I wondered when her bubbles would stop. I wondered when she would stop thrashing. I wondered.

I smiled as I watched her golden locks billow around her.

Then it was over.

There was such beauty in the tranquility of her.

I let the current wash her downstream.

It felt good to know.

But still, I wondered.

I wondered how long a pony would burn. I wondered how I would find out. My wondering paid off, and I came upon the idea of a filly. Yes. A filly.

I wondered how big to make the fire pit. I wondered how strong to make the shackles. I wondered how much tar to slather over her. I wondered how long it would take after I lit it.

Screaming. Crying. Begging. I wondered if she would stop. I wondered how loud she would get. I wondered if I was far enough in the forest.

She fell to the ground, and I knew.

I wondered what was next. What else was there to know?

I wondered how far I could bend a wing the wrong way. I wondered what would happen if a knee was bent backward. What if it was bent sideways?

I wondered.

He screamed.

And I knew.

I wondered how long he would scream. I wondered how long he would cry.

He cried until his life spilled out on the floor at my hooves. Then he finally fell silent.

I was already wondering again. I found another filly. She tried to escape, but it was her destiny to help me know.

I took her to the place in the forest that only I knew of: a secret place that nopony would find. The smell of wondering permeated the air.

The things I learned will never be forgotten.

She cried for her mommy; she cried for her daddy.

Again and again. In and out. Over and over.

Never did I once suspect that a child could spill so many tears.

Never did I know that a nail could pierce bone.

But then I did; now I do.

I came home late that night.

Your mother was worried, but I told her not to be. She persisted, and I ignored her. She said that I shouldn’t be out after dark. That some ponies were missing. I ignored her, but she wouldn’t stop asking about where I had been.

She wouldn’t stop. It’s her fault.

She made me wonder.

She made me wonder if I could make her stop talking.

I wondered if I hitting her would shut her up. I wondered why she cried. Why wasn't she happy? Didn’t she want me to learn? Crouching over her, I whispered in her ear. It was going to be okay. I still loved her. But then I wondered what blood tasted like. Forcefully turning her head, I tried to lean in and kiss her.

But I wondered: why did she fight me? I’m her husband. She should want me, not hate me. I wondered how many times I would have to kick her until she begged for a chance to show her love and submission.

I wondered why her screaming hurt on the inside.

I wondered if I had to kick harder to make it feel better; it always worked with the others.

I wondered until she stopped.

Leaning in, I gently kissed her. Her blood and tears coated my tongue.

I knew so much, but it hurt so bad.

I wondered if another one would make the pain go away.

I knew that you and your brother were sleeping in the other room.

Looking at the items in the kitchen, I wondered.

I picked up a small knife.

Creeping into your bedroom, I wondered who to choose.

I wondered who would satisfy my curiosity.

Your brother. You. Your brother. You.

I wonder what made me choose to spare you; I don’t think I’ll ever know.

I wondered if I could do it without waking you up.

I wondered if I could get rid of the pain.

Covering your brother’s mouth, I carefully sliced him open from neck to hips.

He screamed into my hoof, but I wondered what would happen if I cut deeper.

Peeling back his skin hurt me more than it hurt him.

I wondered what was different. I wondered why I was crying.

I wondered why I could barely finish him.

I wondered why I couldn’t stop the tears.

My crying woke you up.

Your scream split the night in two. It burned through my ears and into my heart. I was coated in the blood of my wife and son, and you could see me for what I had become:

A thing.

A creature.

A monster.

You were screaming so loud.

Tears pouring down my face, I curled up into a ball.

A neighbor heard you; you couldn’t stop.

The Royal Guards came; I didn’t resist.

They put me on trial.

Death by hanging would be my punishment.

They had to build gallows just for me.

And so I waited.

And I wondered if it would hurt.

The guard is here. It is ready. “Will it hurt?” I ask him.

He spits on my face.

He roughly takes me outside, shoving me every few steps. He stops at the platform and shoves me into the wood. Cracking my head, blood starts oozing into my eyes, but it’s not like it matters anymore.

Shaking my head and walking up the platform, I stick my head through the loop. The executioner tightens it around my neck.

Through there are many faces around me, all I see is you. Your eyes are blank. You stare at the ground. Tears drip from your eyes.

Please, my son. Hear my words. You slowly look up and meet my eyes.

“Hate me.”

The floor drops under my hooves. The rope presses against my windpipe. As I struggle and gasp, everything goes dark.

The crowd cheers.

The monster is gone.

I wonder if I'll be missed?