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When she had first started, she didn't remember anything. She would wake up in the middle of an empty field or a forest clearing, or she would be standing ankle deep in a gentle brook as the water swirled around her hooves. In the beginning, she had brushed it away as simply spacing out or dozing off without realizing it. Maybe she ought to get more sleep, she would think, maybe she was just tired. Of course, it got harder to believe in such things given the circumstances. Because, well, who wakes up standing in a river with blood splattered about their coat? How does that just happen to a mare, without any explanation at all?

As it began to happen more and more frequently, Lockes began to remember bits and pieces. She would recall meeting Soquili that had certain features about their appearance wrong with them. A spec of dirt on their flank, a stray hair that was out of place... Something so small to the average equine, but so big to a perfectionist like Lockes. She'd try to help them, but then everything would go dark and she would wake up somewhere else, with no other memory of the Soquili she had helped.

It was only recently that she began to see the whole story. She would come across a Soquili with something in their mane and try to get it out for them. They would assure her it didn't matter, but it mattered to her and when they tried to push her off or get her to leave she would just get to angry. Didn't they realize how disgusting they looked? They were slime! They were filth! They had no right to live if they weren't beautiful!
So... She picked up her ever-trusty blade, one that she carried with her always and she would paint them red, covering any of their imperfections with blossoming crimson flowers.

Unfortunately, this task was rather messy itself and as soon as she realized that their blood had gotten onto her flank, she would rush off to the nearest water source, in hopes of washing it off before it stained her fair-hued coat.

Lockes liked it better when she couldn't remember what had happened. When she didn't have to remember the screams of agony as she cut through the flesh of another. Of the feeling of their warm redness coating her and how she would revel in it. As soon as she had calmed down, however, she only felt fear and disgust with herself. It had grown into an inner torment, but Lockes had no way of stopping herself. How could she? She was never strong enough to prevent it from happening before, how could she try to stop it now?

Especially now.

The mare's head was bowed to her knees as she lay against a large tree. Her coat was damp, but it was clean and the only clue to what had happened was the blood that had started to dry on her blade, which lay beside her. The mare wept and her body quivered, for she had not meant to kill the pastel pink mare she'd seen earlier. But there was something caught in her tail and then...
"I'm sorry." Moaned Lockes, her eyes open and staring at the ground as she cried. If she closed her eyes, she would see it happening again, "I'm sorry. Oh, someone help me, I want to stop. I want to stop. Oh, please, send someone to help me through this." She took in a long shuddering breath, "I don't want to be a monster."

Lockes head snapped up at the sound of another voice and she shrunk away. Was it someone come to punish her for her crimes? Wild, red eyes darted about the area before they fell upon a stallion standing a few paces away. He was speaking to her and his words did not fall on deaf ears.

"Y-You're asking if I'm hurt?" Whether it was the kindness of this stallion, or the shock that she had just undergone, Lockes found that she was not repelled by this stallion's appearance, although if one looked closer, there wasn't much wrong with it. He was't dirty and his mane looked rather well-maintained if a bit mussy where it fell. "No... No, I'm not hurt." Not physically anyway, but her mind was so fragile and she felt as though she would be scarred with this trauma forever. She was a monster and that was it. She wouldn't be able to be saved from herself, it was just impossible, but... but this stallion had appeared and he wanted to help her. She couldn't save herself, but maybe he could save her instead?

"Killian." Lockes repeated slowly, feeling the name on her tongue and testing how it sounded aloud. "I am Lockes. It's a pleasure to meet you." Here she gave him a hesitant smile. She was trying to be polite, not frightening, for she felt as though he were her only chance at anything normal at the moment, "Killian, thank you so much for coming. I fear..." Her gaze became clouded as she looked down at the blade in mute horror for a long moment, "I fear I have done something awful and I so desperately want to be perfect again--No, not, perfect not ever, but... Good. I want to be good. Please, can you help me?" She asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Lady Lockes? That was certainly a name which she'd not gone by. It had an elegant ring to it and some part of her wished that she could be more lady-like than she had been displaying earlier. Oh, if only she could be perfect without causing such violent acts. Surely, such a hope was impossible... At least, that's what she'd thought before meeting this Killian fellow. He had moved closer to her, but she still didn't take in his appearance like she would've normally. If anything, she focused on his eyes, seeing only sincerity behind them which made her both happy and uneasy at the same time. Being the nervous mare that she was, she couldn't help suspecting if there was some sort of... catch to this stallion's kindness.

Oh dear... Of course he would want to hear her whole story. She lowered her eyes from his and let out a soft sigh, resigning herself to a small promise. If he fled after her tale, she would no longer trust the kindness of others, for it was likely that all would react as she believed he would. On the small chance that he stayed without any new intent to harm her, she would trust in this kindness and trust him as well. Just being able to take this chance would be a step in the right direction, she thought, wouldn't it?

"It's... It's a terrible story, I'm afraid. There is no part of it that is just or lovely. There has only been obsession in my life. Obsession for perfection." She took a deep breath, steadying herself and slowly raised her eyes to meet Killian's again, "I never wanted to hurt anyone, and you're just going to have to trust me on that one. I just wanted everyone to see the way that I did. Without perfection and order, you have chaos and filth. Where is the dignity of others if they allow dirt upon their coats, or tangled knots in their manes and tails? It's unseemly, to say the least and I've never stood for it. As a filly, I was taught that my appearance made a Soquili who they were and my mother and I often spent hours tending to each others coats, smoothing them with plant oils to make them shine and specific rocks to smooth our hooves. It was the loveliest times of my life and I was secluded from the filth of others, including that of my father, who I rarely saw. My mother wouldn't let him near me and perhaps that is what caused me to become so judgmental. Foals mirror their parents, isn't that what they say?"

She gave a hollow laugh and her eyes clouded. She didn't quite remember what happened to her mother or her father, really. One day, she was just on her own and she traveled away from her home to go seek out the world, only to be greeted with the chaos of other Soquili.
"It was madness when I started my travels. Dirty coats, tangled manes, cracked hooves--It was disgraceful even to be near such creatures! They were no better than the humans' mounts in native villages. They had no sense of self worth, it showed by their appearance." Her vision cleared, her eyes focused back on Killian with a new found desperation within. "I only ever wanted to help them--To show them what a horrible state they were submitting themselves to, but they wouldn't listen to reason and I thought I'd left them alone! I didn't realize what level I'd let myself sink to! If they didn't want to be perfect then... Then I wouldn't let them live in my world! They didn't deserve it!" She ducked her head to her chest, closing her eyes and pressed her lips together, muffling what would've been an anguished cry.

Her body shook with effort to prevent any sound from passing her lips and when she stilled, she let out a shaky breath, opening her eyes, but refusing to look at Killian again.
"Nearly everyone I've met, I've killed. My obsession to become perfect became so strict, that if so much as a hair was out of place, it would be enough to send me towards madness. I couldn't remember anything at first; I suppose it was too extreme for me to bare. It was easier, I think, when I couldn't remember, because now... Now I'm a monster and I know it's true. I'm at war with myself when I kill others now, but I don't stop... I can't..." Her voice had gotten very small and the mare was trembling. She had told her tale and now it was time for the results. Would this stallion attack her? Would he flee? Or... Was there a chance his words held truth and that he would stay to help her through the horrors of her life?