As the sun broke the horizon, the different ways that Iron Will's life had gone to many and varied kinds of shit like a crap taco in a microwave began to flash before his eyes. The body count alone... Iron Will shuddered.
"No, I can't think about those things. That was the old me. That was.. before my 'operation'. I thought these dreams would be gone!"
As soon as he collected himself, he began the slow process of building a fire. Early springtime was still chilly after all. The worst part of this living situation was the endless clopping of hooves on the main street; having set up his rudimentary home in the middle of the town. At least the monsters that lurked in the Everfree Forest were not an issue... not anymore, at least. Not for thirty years....
He shook his head. Here he at least felt the commonality of being a part of society.
The damned clock tower chimed its two piercing tones indicating the afternoon was full blown. I lied about it being morning. Iron Will's life had become an abomination. A traveling show to "bolster the confidences of the down-trot-den"? What kind of bullshit was this?
Iron Will reached into his tattered khaki shorts, finding a small pouch of poison joke mushrooms from the night before. He had enough to last at least a week, if he kept a regular schedule. The rest of the town would never accept him if they knew the real source of his booming voice and strong-arm tactics. But they would never need to know, and Iron Will would kick the bucket and some heads in before they knew.
As he stumbled around tiredly, he thought about what needs he would have to complete before the day's end. Food, he thought, would be the utmost priority now. His stomach grumbled; Gilda's fried wings had fed him for long enough, but the consumption of her innards raw in a fit of rage had left him queasy and dehydrated. How had no one heard the caws and cries of Gilda as he cooked her over the volcano's edge? How had the pleading and begging fallen on Iron Will's deaf ears as he slowly pulled her feathers to fill his broken mat?
Never mind that. Now, the bloodlust was full borne. Someone would die tonight, and their body would vanish into the four stomachs that already eagerly awaited their arrival.
For the longest time, Iron Will stood with his arms cocked behind him, staring at his own reflection in the water at the bottom of the well. He remembered how Luna had gently wrapped her arm around his, the sweet times they had. How her stanky ass queef during the Thanksgiving dinner had abruptly ruined an otherwise jovial occasion. They had no true romances between them, but the lustful thoughts never left his mind.
He shook his head and tried to think about who would be the easiest to "make disappear," Who would go unmissed?
Iron Will suddenly realized who.
Blueblood's mom.
Celestia.