You’re looooosing iiiiiit!

The singsong voice inside his head did little to quell the rage crawling beneath his skin. Psychedelic’s ears laced back and his tail snapped furiously behind him, stirring the cold autumn air against his hindquarters. “Pregnant,” he grumbled, “I can’t fucking believe her. I tell her to do one fucking thing. ONE FUCKING THING.” He growled and hissed and cursed, his eyes rolling. His forehoof pawed at the ground, digging up the soft dirt and making a little trench of his rage.

Someone else is going to get pregnant, too… then what are you going to do?

“Huh?” Psychedelic blinked, stilling.

Remember?? Last night… after you left Talya…

Psychedelic frowned… and then, he remembered. He remembered Aurora’s cries of fright, the way they’d excited him and thrust him further into this evil he had once been. He remembered how good it had felt to have power over her, to betray her trust and break her heart while succumbing to the desires thick in his mind. It had felt sooo good to be in control of something when he’d just lost control of something else… he’d thrown himself carelessly into the moment, done everything he wanted to do for himself with no regards to her… and then he’d left her. Alone. Hurt. Betrayed.

“Fuck.” He grunted.

It’s all over for you, buddy boy!

“Oh you’re just loving this, aren’t you?” Psychedelic snapped, pawing again.

Why… me? Yes… Yes I am.

“Fuck you,” he hissed and rolled his eyes, shaking himself out and chewing on air for a moment as his mind flew. What the fuck was he going to do? “It’ll be fine… it’ll…” he stalled for a moment. How the hell was he supposed to cover this up. “I’ll just… I’ll threaten her. I’ll go find her and I’ll threaten her. If she tries to tell anyone…” Psychedelic’s eyes narrowed.

Do you really think that’s going to be enough? Do you really think she wouldn’t tell Talya? Or Persephone? She’s going to tell…

“Well then what the hell do you suggest I do?” Psychedelic snorted in irritation.

You know what you need to do… you need to keep her quiet permanently.

Psychedelic had done many fucked up things in his eleven, nearly twelve years of living… but he’d never actually killed another horse. The idea sent a new kind of chill through him and he tried to think of an argument… but couldn’t. “Fuck,” he whispered weakly, blinking as the realization fully dawned… “Fuck, you’re right… I’m going to have to kill her.”