** {Mature} {Gore} {Dark}{Tragedy} **
Blueblood doesn’t take rejection well. He’s always gotten what he wants, and after a stuck up mare at the Gala turns him down, he decides to take what is his. Thus begins his quest for revenge on the mares of Equestria.
Warning: Not for the squeamish, pregnant, elderly, people with lower back problems or those with Haphephobia
Story prompt/Requested by: RainbowBob
Part of my one-shot week
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Blueblood had been following this particular mare for a few nights. As a famous pony, she was used to dodging paparazzi. Once he had learned her schedule, this turned into an advantage. Her attempts to escape publicity often caused her to find herself alone, ducking down dark alleyways.
Usually he would go for normal ponies, lowborn or poor. He decided that he was good enough now to go after a truly beautiful specimen.
The light grey mare had beautiful skin and very silky hair. She had a jet black mane and tail, and a pink bowtie. After ducking into an alleyway after her last concert, Blueblood slid out of the shadows.
Earth ponies were always the easiest to capture. He levitated a thin rope out and looped it around her neck in one swift movement. His magic yanked the string taut, and then Blueblood jumped on her.
Octavia began gasping for air and flailing around. Blueblood could feel himself getting hard and rubbing against her backside. She was wiggling as her mouth opened and closed without a sound.
The rope had dug into her neck, blocking blood flow to her brain and the air to her lungs. Her struggle lasted only seconds before she went limp. She had been less then a block away from the restaurant her date, Vinyl, was waiting at.
Blueblood took out an extra rope and hog tied her, then strapped a bit into her mouth to silence her. He pulled out a threadbare burlap sack with a potato painted on the side.
He stuffed her into the bag before headed back towards his small mansion. After being kicked out of the castle and scorned at the Gala, Blueblood had moved into a smaller house with only twelve rooms and ten baths.
Down in the basement he had a large pit dug into the ground. He tossed the sack down into the bottom, only slightly slowing its momentum. Octavia landed on the floor ten feet down with a loud thud.
A mint green mare with a severed horn screeched at the sound and crawled into the corner of the pit. Her mane hadn’t been combed today, and looked like a mess.
“Lyra, you whore! You were supposed to comb your mane and put the conditioner on your fur!” Blueblood shouted.
He levitated a strap of leather down and struck her across the muzzle.
“No! I won’t do it,” Lyra whimpered. She curled up and started sobbing.
“It puts the conditioner in its fur or it gets the hose again!”
There was a clunk as a brush hit the floor, followed shortly by some conditioner and shampoo. Next, a torrent of cold water poured into the pit, drenching both ponies.
Her broken horn sent a painful shock through her as the cold water hit the exposed nerve. Lyra was shivering, but finally began to run the brush through her mane with her hoof.
“If you want to get a towel to dry off, you’ll put that conditioner on your skin.”
Lyra was crying as she finished combing her mane, and began to rub conditioner into her fur. After a few more minutes of scrubbing, she had finished. A dry towel landed on her, and she quickly began drying herself off to warm up.
Then, she felt something else drop down around her neck, quickly choking her. Blueblood dragged her out of the pit by the rope around her neck, and began tying her down to his work bench. It had half a dozen loops bolted in and he began tying her down to them.
Once he had her legs secure, he slackened the rope and slapped her a couple times to wake her up.
Lyra gasped as she woke up on the wooden slab. “What? No, please don’t!”
“You’re so beautiful, it’s time to take you out for a night on the town,” Blueblood replied.
“No! P-please.” Lyra broke down and began to wail, tears flowing freely. “N-not like B-Berry. . . not l-like the others.”
She couldn’t manage any more words once she heard the knife sliding across a sharpening stone. “You should be happy. You won’t suffer anymore. Everypony will see how beautiful we are!”
Lyra struggled against the restraints as hard as she could. She was rewarded with the flat of the blade pushing down on her throat.
“Don’t damage the skin!”
Lyra stopped struggling and gulped. “P-painkiller. . . m-mercy.”
“Hmmm.” Blueblood ran his hoof down her belly, causing her to moan. “No, whores don’t deserve mercy.”
Octavia could hear the screams from the bottom of the pit. She was drenched and stuck in a wet burlap sack, with her hooves bound and her mouth gagged. She sat there and listened to scream after scream from the other side of the basement.
Blueblood drew the knife along her right hind leg, cutting through the skin around her hooves all the way around. He then slid the knife up slowly towards her chest. Using his magic to hold each limb steady, he had quickly sliced all four.
With his magic and hooves he began sliding the skin off her legs, tearing away the attachments. Lyra only stopped screaming to breathe, yet the more she cried out in pain the harder it was getting to stay awake.
She felt the skin peeling off each leg, and the cold air stinging her muscles. Lyra glanced down at her leg and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her limb looked stringy, with ropey veins and bones running through it.
Blueblood barely reacted in time to tilt her head to the side with his magic. She vomited, covering the floor in her bile. Once she was done, he slid the knife down along her chest and stomach.
Lyra felt the blade scrape against her sternum and struggled with renewed fury. She heard and felt her chest cavity ripping open as the skin separated where he had cut. She looked down and saw her four flayed legs, her intestines, and for a moment what she thought was her heart.
Her head slumped back against the table and her eyes rolled up into her head. Blueblood continued tugging at the skin, slowly separating it from the fat and muscle below it. As Lyra bled out, unconscious on the table, he finished skinning from the neck down. He loosened the ropes and lifted her limp head up to work on the neck and face.
Using his magic and some chemicals he began to preserve the hide and started tossing her bones, organs, and muscles off the workbench. Only a few more minutes, and he’d have a perfectly preserved Lyra suit. With a simple zipper, it would be complete.
Octavia had heard the screaming stop. Moments later, a loud wet slapping sound echoed through her pit. She smelt a coppery, almost rotten smell, and fought an urge to vomit. She could not see through the wet burlap sack, but as Lyra’s flesh continued to rain down around her she had a good enough idea what it was.
Blueblood laughed as he looked at his handiwork. He laid it onto a mould of a pony and put the final touches on it. He then compared it to the skins in his closet in the basement. He had a tan mare with red hair, a blue pegasus with brilliant yellow hair, and a purple mare with berries for her cutie mark.
With a smile he took down the perfectly preserved skin. He had sutured the legs into sleeves that would leave only his hooves exposed. A little careful stretching had sized it perfectly. As his back legs slid in he hovered the rest of Lyra above him.
He shook his plot against her, cozying up and bunching his tail inside her skin. Eventually he could feel her marehood snug against his backside.
Blueblood draped her over his back, carefully getting his front legs into the skin of her forelegs. As they slid in, her backside hugged his back and tightened up. With careful tugs using magic he worked the skin around his chest and stomach to his underside.
He exhaled and sucked in his stomach as much as he could so he could fit inside his new suit. He carefully zippered Lyra’s skin up against his abdomen. Already he could feel the arousal of his stallionhood as it was held in place by the tight skin he had reinforced on Lyra’s belly.
Blueblood carefully worked his head into Lyra’s as the zipper passed his chest, and started zipping up the neck. With a little stretching and some manipulation of his own mane, he had completely sealed himself inside her.
Now, the only part of him still visible was his white horn and eyes. It was a simple thing to change the appearance of them. Were it not for the paler complexion, larger frame, square muzzle, and bits of loose skin hanging off him, he would have passed for Lyra.
Blueblood walked over to the pit and used his magic to slide all the leftovers from Lyra into a small hole in the corner. It was made so the mares could use the restroom and emptied into a large septic tank.
He undid the burlap sack and ropes, and let Octavia get out to stretch.
“Ugh! What the hell is going on?” she asked.
“It’s horrible,” Blueblood said in the mock voice of Lyra. “There’s a mad pony killing mares! I just barely escaped!”
Octavia looked up and saw the mint green mare standing above her. She could tell something was off, and remembering the screaming, put two and two together.
She vomited onto the floor as she realized another pony was wearing her skin. After she recovered she looked up at at her captor, only to see him laughing.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Lyra,” he replied.
“No, really!”
He frowned and looked down at her. “I’m Blueblood... but soon, I will be any mare I want to be. Ponies will love me, and Celestia will let me move back in the castle; and even Rarity will love me! It’s not my fault she rejected me at the Gala. Five girlfriends? She’s clearly a filly-fooler!”
Octavia felt her plot hit the wall as she backed up. “You’re insane!”
“NO!” Blueblood screamed. “I’m not crazy! Now, start combing your mane and putting the conditioner on. You won’t get any food or water until you do.”
“Why, so you can butcher me too? Go fuck yourself!” she screamed.
Blueblood levitated the hose over and began spraying her down. He levitated a large wooden disc over the hole in the ground that was her toilet, and wedged it in. He continued to spray her, the water drowning out her protests.
After a couple minutes, she was left standing in three feet of ice cold water.
“Whore! Maybe in the morning you’ll show a little more respect. Now, I have to go out in town and meet a nice stallion who will whisk Lyra Heartstrings off his feet!” He cackled madly and headed towards the exit.
It was late at night a day later, and Blueblood had packed lightly. He had some makeup and hygiene items, a switchblade, and a small length of rope. He would either have an enjoyable evening with a stallion, or snag an adorable new mare to skin.
He was prepared for a night on the town after putting his Lyra suit back on
He headed towards the red light district where there were as many nightclubs as streetwalkers. It didn’t take long before a drunk stallion came up to hit on him.
“Hey, Sexy, you want to party at my place?” he said.
“No thanks,” Blueblood replied, batting Lyra’s eyelashes at him.
“Come on!” He tried to grab her, but Blueblood used his strength to toss him into the gutter.
Blueblood stopped to admire how good he looked in a store window before heading down the street towards a nightclub. He could hear the music from out here, and wondered who must be DJ’ing tonight.
“Lyra?” a voice called out.
Blueblood turned around to see a tan mare and a white mare trotting towards him.
“Oh, thank Celestia you’re okay, Lyra!” Bon Bon rushed forward to hug her marefriend.
“Huh, do I know—I mean, what’s wrong?” Blueblood asked.
“Where have you been?!” She hugged Blueblood and could feel there was something wrong. “What? Who are you?”
“You must have mistaken me for someone else. We aren’t friends,” he replied. Slowly Blueblood backed into the alleyway, hoping the confused mare would either leave, or follow him in. Either way, he would get rid of her.
“What’s wrong, Bon Bon?” the white unicorn asked. She had a lovely blue mane and Blueblood knew he’d have to skin her next.
“It—she looks like Lyra, cutie mark and everything! But it’s not her, something’s off!” Bon Bon pointed at Blueblood and Vinyl followed them into the alleyway.
“Look, ladies, there’s been some mistake.”
Vinyl fired up her horn to shine light on him, and the two mares gasped. They could see the small seam running from under Lyra’s chin down her neck and chest. A little white fur was poking out near the seams, and there was an odd bulge against Lyra’s stomach.
He smirked. “I assure you, I am Lyra now that I have her skin.”
Bon Bon vomited, her brain unwilling to accept what she had seen. The thought of a pony wearing another’s skin was too preposterous.
Blueblood smirked and levitated his switchblade out of his saddle bag.
“You sick fuck! What did you do to our friends?!” Vinyl yelled.
He laughed. “She had such lovely skin, don’t you agree?”
Vinyl gasped and saw a glint as the blade flew towards her. She fired up her horn, managing to deflect the blade and roll out of the way. She stood up, covered in filth, and grabbed a nearby trashcan lid in her magic. She flung it at Blueblood, catching him in the chin.
Blueblood tumbled to the ground before standing up. “Stop! You’ll ruin her!” he shouted.
Vinyl hadn’t waited for his reply. She had already leapt towards him with a loose brick in her levitation, and tried to hit him in the head.
He managed to deflect the brick at the last second. Reaching out with his magic he lifted the knife up, plunging it into Vinyl’s neck. Blueblood could feel the warmth of the blood as it poured onto Lyra’s pristine coat.
Vinyl struggled with her last breaths, taking the brick in her hooves and weakly dropping it onto Blueblood’s head. Lyra’s skin tore where the brick hit, and he found himself dazed.
“D-damn it!” he shouted. He shoved Vinyl off, and stabbed her repeatedly in the chest. Even once she stopped moving, he continued to bury the switchblade up to the hilt in between her ribs.
Once he had finally caught his breath he turned to face the tan mare. She had passed out a few feet from her puddle of vomit from the horrific sight. Blueblood cackled maniacally at his good fortune.
He left the blue-maned whore in the alleyway, and levitated Bon Bon into his potato sack. The burlap would hide the pony inside, and anypony who saw would think ‘she’ had bought some vegetables.
Blueblood used his magic and some stagnant water to get as much blood as possible off of Lyra’s skin. He mended the nicks and cuts as well as he could, but decided he might have to throw this skin out. It was truly a shame.
Bon Bon woke up with a kink in her neck. She tried to move her head to relieve the pressure, but couldn’t. With slow, groggy movements she tried to lift her legs but all of them were stuck.
“I had to go to the pharmacy, you know,” Blueblood explained.
He stepped out of the shadows, clad in Lyra’s skin. Some sweaty hair poked out of the cut on his forehead, and he had dropped the illusion coloring his horn green. The sagging skin near his mouth made it look like he had two jaws while he talked.
“L-lyra!” Bon Bon felt lightheaded as her eyes began to roll back into her head.
Blueblood jammed an epi-pen into her thigh. The rush of adrenaline kept her from passing out. “Oh no, I want you to be awake for this.”
She coughed and managed to look in his direction. “F-for what?”
“Why, for skinning you alive. You’re a rather plain pony. Normally I’d have left you bleeding in the gutter. I would much rather have brought your friend here. Unfortunately, the only salvagable part once I finished killing her was her electric blue mane and tail.”
He lifted up a bundle of blue hair before tossing it on his workbench. “N-no!” Bon Bon screamed. “This can’t be happening!”
“Tell me, who was she?” Blueblood asked. “Who was this pony you loved so much you are going to die for her?”
Bon Bon burst into tears and sobbed loudly. She continued to weep for her dead lover until she felt a sharp pain in her hind leg. “You’re not her. . . her skin, oh Celestia.”
“Who was she? She already cost the life of your white friend.” He pushed his knife deeper into the coronet above her hoof, causing her immense pain.
“S-stop!” she cried. “She w-was my l-lover—Lyra.”
Blueblood smiled. “You know, she asked me for painkillers? I used to think that watching them squeal in pain was the best part. You’ve given me a wonderful new idea. I wonder, if I’m careful, can I keep you alive until you’re fully skinned?”
Bon Bon let out a blood curdling scream at the thought, and thrashed violently. A syringe filled with dilaudid, a hundred times stronger than morphine, was stuck into her arm. She began to tremble as her body had never experienced narcotics before, and she quickly found herself euphoric and sleepy.
Blueblood adjusted the lights and a large mirror he recently installed on the ceiling, until Bon Bon could see herself in it as he skinned her.
“Hey, Blueblood! Can I help?” Octavia yelled.
“Shut up! You’re not tricking me into letting you out. What a pathetic lie!” he shouted back.
“Please! I could prove I love you, we could be happy tog—”
“I said shut up, or I’m skinning you alive next!”
Octavia curled up in the corner of the pit, using the damp burlap sack she had been thrown in with as a blanket.
Blueblood poked Bon Bon on the muzzle a couple times. She opened her eyes and was awake, but delirious.
He started the familiar routine. Circumferential cuts around and above each hoof, followed by long incisions up the length of each leg to the shoulder and hip. Next, he opened her up from plot to muzzle, then connected the incisions to the cuts on her legs.
She was ready to be peeled open, and Blueblood smiled as her eyes went wide.
“I—I think I’m bleeding,” she mumbled. She could feel an aching and burning, a feeling something wasn’t right, but the pain of the incisions wasn’t enough to overcome the drugs and make her pass out.
“You mean, like this?” Blueblood used his magic and his hoof to slowly peel the skin back from her right foreleg. Being very careful, he was able to avoid the arteries and veins. She was oozing a lot of blood from the capillaries in her skin, but otherwise was coping well with her ordeal.
“Yeah, that! There’s something on my leg!” Bon Bon’s foreleg twitched and she giggled at her exposed muscles.
“You’re right, this leg is different. We need to make the others match it!”
He sung his version of a children’s rhyme to himself as he flayed her skin.
All around the hoof and cornet,
The knife cuts through the skin.
Up her legs and down to her groin;
Pop! Goes the pony.
“Hehe, sing it again, and stop tickling me!” Bon Bon squealed.
Blueblood looked down. He was peeling the skin back from her ribs. “This tickles?” He pulled some more of the flesh off, exposing bone and muscle.
“Hahaha yes! Stop!” she wiggled a little, which caused her a jolt of pain the narcotics couldn’t mask. “Ow.”
Blueblood smiled. “You know, you’re taking this well.” He peeled the skin back from her stomach, exposing her layer of belly fat and abdominal muscles. “What a pity, you must have worked hard to keep your tummy this trim.”
“Iesshh okaaay,” she slurred.
Blueblood felt her pulse and found it slowing down. He began peeling the skin from her neck and head, and removed the strap from around her forehead.
Surprisingly, he managed to work off the stubborn scalp, and Bon Bon was still alive. She was no longer speaking, but she continued to twitch. Her eyes spasmed as they rolled around in their exposed sockets.
Blueblood used his magic to gently slide the skin out from under her.
“I—”
“What was that?” Blueblood said.
Bon Bon whispered something again, and Blueblood leaned in closer. “One more time?”
“I—l-love you, L-lyra. . .I-I f-forgive you f-for killing m-me,” Bon Bon whimpered.
She coughed and went back to twitching as exposed muscle and nerve screamed in pain from being exposed directly to the cold, damp air. Blood continued to ooze off from her entire body, as her circulatory system fought to keep her alive. Her legs were turning pale as blood was pooled in her chest to keep the heart and brain going.
“Ironic, isn’t it, to be killed by your lover?” Blueblood asked.
“Can I—” Octavia took a deep breath to slow down her racing heart. “Please, let me see your new skin, Blueblood. Is it beautiful?”
He was about to grab the hose and make her shut up, but he looked at the skin in his hooves. Even though he didn’t like the ugly tan color, maybe this new mare would want to wear it.
“I’ll let you come up and try her skin on, it is very beautiful, but it’s not my color.”
“Yes, please, I’m so cold and lonely down here. Let me curl up at your hooves tonight to stay warm,” Octavia said.
Blueblood smirked and mused how lucky he was to have finally caught a pony that seemed to understand him. He levitated a rope with a loop down into the pit.
“Put your forelegs through, I’ll pull you up.”
She obliged, and a minute later she was standing at the top of the pit, shivering. Blueblood was manipulating Bon Bon’s skin in his magic, getting it ready for his marefriend to try on.
“Go ahead, try it,” he said.
“Can I see her first? She looks,” Octavia swallowed the bile in her throat. “She’s still alive? It’s. . . impressive.”
“Oh sure, but hurry!” He nudged her towards the table and followed her over.
Bon Bon had a creepy smile on her face created by her lack of skin. Her eyes followed Octavia around the table, and occasionally a leg would twitch. Her chest was still slowly rising and falling as her nose created a hollow whistling sound.
“Now, I know we just met but if you’d like, I’ll take you to dinner as this mare. Just put her skin on, and tell me you love me,” Blueblood said.
Octavia smiled at him when she found what she was looking for, and put a hoof on it. “I love you. Kiss me.”
Blueblood blushed, but it was hidden under the pale sagging skin of Lyra’s cheeks. He leaned forward and was about to close his eyes when he saw a glimmer of something metallic. He pulled back too late.
Octavia swung the knife at his throat. He had moved at the last second, and Lyra’s loose skin made it look like his neck was bigger than it really was. She had sliced through Lyra’s skin, and put a deep gash in Blueblood’s throat, but had not killed him.
“Whore!” he sputtered.
Octavia lunged forward with the knife again. He tossed Bon Bon’s hide at her, blinding her. The knife missed, and he stomped on her head.
She felt the sharp blow and heard a crack. Swinging the knife blindly, she felt it hit a foreleg and heard a squeal of pain. As Octavia stood up she felt where his blood had been splattering on her.
Blueblood was filled with fury as she ruined his new skin. He tried to curse at her again, but all that came out were wet slurping noises from his throat.
Octavia could see the malice burning in his eyes, and began to back up with the knife in her hooves. Blueblood lunged at her, and the massive stallion knocked her off the ground.
She felt herself falling, with the full weight of the stallion on top of her. There was a loud cracking sound and a white hot flash of sharp pain in her spine. Octavia struggled to push Blueblood off of her. Buried in his chest until not even the hilt was visible was the knife. He had lunged at her, landing on it.
Octavia looked around, realizing she had fallen into the ten foot pit with Blueblood on top of her. Sharp pains went down her back when she tried to move, and she prayed she had not broken anything.
Rolling over, she struggled to get a deep enough breath to scream for help. Her cries for aid came out as painful groans. She slumped onto her side in defeat, and stared into Blueblood’s glassy eyes.
Blueblood! First Serial Killer In Seventy Years!
Inside Story: Tragedy, or Royal Cover-up?
Equestrian News had found out additional details from a first-hand witness who asked to remain anonymous.
When Blueblood was noticed missing, a relative went to check on him. Within an hour, the entire mansion had been quarantined and nopony was allowed within a hundred yards of it. Our source tells us why.
“It was. . . really gruesome. . .” he told us. He went on in detail to describe the horrible images, of mares flayed alive. “. . . she was rotting, strapped to a table. We found syringes and medicines nearby and—I just can’t talk about her, it still gives me nightmares.”
Our source went on to tell us more about the sole survivor. “Our best guess was she’d been stuck in that pit for at least three weeks. There were some remains down there with her we think were Blueblood’s, but they were badly—” Our source was barely able to admit to us in confidence that Blueblood had been eaten by the survivor. His mangled bones and flesh had been gnawed on for weeks.
“She was wild—bit one of the rescuers—we didn’t know what to do. One of the stallions had a brother in animal control. They brought in a pole to rope her neck, and we had to drag her out and into a cage. It was barbaric. . .” Our source goes on to tell us that the crazed mare had to be sedated at the hospital.
While Celestia has ensured the survivor’s identity has not been leaked, Equestrian News has found the names of the missing ponies and suspected victims. Our condolences go out to the families of the following mares who were reported missing. It is not yet clear which ones died and which survived.
Rose Luck
Octavia
Minuette
Twinkleshine
Lightning Dust
Fleur Dis Lee
Berry Punch
Lyra
Photo Finish
Bon Bon