Within the Golden Oak library, could be heard a most peculiar sound. It was high in pitch, and it droned on, incessantly, insisting upon it's ruining of a ponies night when you walked by. The noise was odd to say the least, it stopped abruptly and started again, and the night in which this was first heard would not stand alone, it would be listened into for many more evenings. Were you to venture into the tree like structure, you would find, upon ascending the steps, a mare, huddled in the dark, rocking back and forth, muttering to herself, and every once in awhile, her voice would raise into a scream, shrieking out for a period of time, and then dying off, to return to her mad muttering. This was the drone one would hear.
Of course I'm sure you wonder, how could a voice not be identified, and that is a most excellent question, my dear reader. One could not distinguish this sound from an odd drone, because it was barely a voice at all. It was loud, and formed words, yes, but was primal, it sounded more animal than equine, it was mixed with so much madness, excitement, hatred, and sorrow, it distorted, it was, in all aspects, not truly a voice. The ears, if they were to be close enough to the mare, would betray their owner, perhaps driving they themselves mad, because the sight was so unfathomably horrible, that nothing could stand to see this and not scream like an infant, or sink to their knees in maddened despair.
The mare had a purple coat, with an odd six pointed star upon her flank. Her mane and tail were a darker shade of her coat, they stood up, as if given bones inside, some bits were more unkempt than others, the streaks of lighter colors drowned away by the rest of the unkempt little patch of hair upon her head. Her face, as you could imagine, looked dreadful, it's features distorted into a sick smile in which only reached half her face, the other frowning, it half grinned at the world around it in a deranged way. It wasn't this that would have caused the maddened despair, nor the rest of the revolting mare, but her eyes.
Her eyes were another shade of lavender, and they stared at you, they both conformed to the half smirk plastered upon her face. But they both were filled with tears. They both had the same look, they begged at you, they grasped your legs as you ran away, and implored of you, "Save me!". But they were on the face of mad mare, they wanted to do deplorable things to you, uncouth things, evil and insane things. I'm sure, of course, you desire to hear of what exactly it is she was muttering, was she perhaps talking to herself? Was she whispering plans outloud? Was everything she was currently engaged in the pursuits of a lunatic? I can say with confidence that all the above statements are, unfortunately correct.
Her mad raving was, surprisingly, upon an almost sane topic, well, more correctly, the language used was that in which would could expect from a sane mare, except of course, the content of her rambling. "We can't do that" was a common statement, as was,"Come now, this is for science, for the bettering of ponykind, so what we end up with one or two cadavers?". I do wish with all my heart I could tell you that these were nothing but the idle words of a lunatic, that no one would end up dead, that this mare was to get the help in which she needed, and live happily ever after in some asylum, never to pick up the butcher's blade, I really do. That, sadly, is not the case. The asylum was not for this pony, oh no, she had grander things ahead, from surgery, to book writing, to shackles, and then the final performance of the condemned, the ballet of the damned, the tap dance of society's most hated foes, the "hangman jig", as it was once called. It's a hell of a show, if you like gurgling, thrashing, dying people, staring at, you begging for your intervention, only to be cheered on as the noose steals their lives away, and leaves but a broken necked corpse. If you're"into that" then as I said, it's a hell of a show.
This mare, evidently, would find she was, in fact, not just simply,"into that", but rather fascinated by the concept. And as she sat in that dark little library, rocking back and forth, she would stop fighting, and the rest of her face would contort into a bastardization of a smile, and her eyes would lose that look of helplessness, because the helpless mare was gone, and her tormenter would steal her form. She would put her hoof to her horn, and stroke it,"I wonder, how does this work?" and her eyes would take on a curiosity, and she would levitate to her parchment, a quill, and some ink, and upon the page she would write words of a most horrifying nature. It was not the words themselves in which were terrifying, but what they would lead to, as they linked together, they were blueprints, for madness and forbidden passion. The words were burned into the memory of the entirety of our great nation, all Equestria would know these words. They were as follows, and I apologize for saying them to you, but everything on the face of existence needs to know these, "Lab Reports" was splotched in ink upon the scroll, and she put a heading underneath,"Test subject one".
And she then walked down the steps, and walked to one of the shelves lined with volumes of all fashions,removed the carpet on the ground in front of it, and went down another pair of stairs. When she reached the bottom, there was no light, so her horn glowed like a lavender beacon, and she went on, her hoofs hitting the stone ground in a way in which created a disconcerting little echo, it bounced of the walls of the cavernous expanse, as she neared as small area which was lit dimly.
The small lit area revealed a large colt strapped down to a stalactite, he was struggling against the bindings. His coat was an aqua colour, his eyes a deep blue, his flank was adorned with a trio of cherries, he was breathing in and out rapidly, his body convulsing against the leather straps. The mare walked up to him, as he began to scream for help,"Shhh, this is for the betterment of our species" she said, and his squirming was given renewed vigor,"aren't you excited, you get to be the first ever unicorn to be dissected! Now, hold still".