A sewing machine whirred away at the blue fabric, the stitches held.

A sharp prick in Rarity’s hoof made her flinch backwards, she’d pricked herself with a needle, she chided herself for being so careless, but continued with her work.

Hours ticked by before she felt something warm run down her leg, followed by white hot pain as her eyes shot open and she saw that her hoof had somehow managed to get wedged underneath the needle of the machine and was carving a line of stitching up her arm.

Crying out in pain as the machine snagged on her skin, ripping it out violently, she released her hoof from the peddle, but the machine continued as though it was jammed.

A scream turned into a gurgle as the arteries in her throat were sliced through, sending blood out in streams that squirted outwards, splattering the walls a dark crimson as the machine whirred onwards.