Blood Lust: an MLP fanfic

Chapter 1

"You aren't supposed to exist!" "You're a freak of nature!" "You're a mistake!" The voices echoed through my mind as I recalled all the hatred other ponies have spat at me.
My flashback was interrupted by the sound of hooves clopping together quickly. "Mr. Coldheart? Mr. Coldheart!" a white unicorn with an electric two-tone mane and almost glowing blood red eyes called, trying to get my attention. I snapped back to reality and looked up at the mare with a "huh?"
"They're ready for you, sir," the mare said. "Right. Thank you, Mrs. Scratch. Wish me luck!" I called to Vinyl Scratch, a vampony, and she chuckled.
"You don't need it!" She called back.
The bleak light that pierced the bottom of the rose red curtain gave me the creeps. It was as if my biological mother, Princess Celestia, would appear in front of me at any second, trying to discourage me from going on stage.
I took a deep breath, savoring the cold dry air of the Canterlot Forest that surrounded us. The usual quiet that resided in the peaceful grove was cast aside, as I had a motivational speaking today to protest the unfair treatment of ponies such as Vinyl and myself. The cheers of ponies echoed off of the redwood trees and into the clear night, thanks to my aunt, Princess Luna.
Lately, as in the past half-decade, more and more lynchings have been documented than in the entirety of Equestrian history. The reason was an "anti-freak" campaign had warned that they would kill each and every pony that wasn't like them or the royals, despite their background. As the lynchings continued, I grew more and more restless, and finally needed to do something. So I started a non-violent campaign of my own, discussing the lynchings and my own personal achievements.
Anyway, I took another deep breath, calming myself, and stepped into the blinding light. I saw Changelings, vamponies, half breeds and even multi-breeds. My lime green coat shimmered in the light, a trait my father had, and the cheers and whistles grew louder. I waved with a hoof, a wide smile on my face.
When I got to the podium with a microphone, I raised a hoof, signaling everypony to be quiet. When I did, I couldn't help but look back at the curtain at Vinyl, who's blood red eyes glowed in the darkness and bore into my soul. I shuddered, but looked back at the crowd and began my speech.

*that night*

After I had gone home, I immediately went to bed. My stallionfriend, Eagle Fire, lay in bed when I went into the bedroom. His red and yellow two-tone coat rose and fell beneath the bland white sheet. I tried to not make a sound, but I was too late. Eagle sat up in the bed and smiled, his eyes squinting to get used to the light. When he saw me, he smiled. "Hey, Gear! How was the speech?" he inquired. I smiled half-heartedly. I wanted to say the truth, how I was emotional and couldn't talk properly. But instead I just said, "It was fantastic! Thanks for asking, Smokey!" Eagle frowned, seeing through my lie. "It's your mum, isn't it?" he asked flatly. I sighed, looked away, and nodded slowly. "I thought she would appear and scold me for standing up against her," I said softly. Eagle scoffed. "She shouldn't have had a kid with a unicorn, then!" he spat. "If she didn't, then I wouldn't be here," I reminded him and he looked down, defeated. I sighed and trotted over to him, placing a hoof on his shoulder. He looked up at me and smiled. I noticed a package next to the bed that read:

"To: Mr. Gearhead Coldheart
From: Mr. Gleaming Blade

Happy B-Day, sweet prince!"

My father.

I didn't have a relationship to speak of with my father, and I desperately wanted one. Princess Celestia hardly mentioned him, and even then it was on the topic of punishment. "What do you think your father would think!" she would scold. It finally got to the point to where the mentioning of my father became an insult, as if a unicorn was inferior to everypony else.
Though I never saw him, I always got a present from him on my birthday. He said in the card for my 21st birthday that he wished that my mother would have let him see me, and I wished the same. Today's card was that of a muscle car, one I easily recognized. On the front if read:
"Get motoring, Birthday Colt!"
And when I opened the small card, it read:
"Because Daddy's waiting at the finish line!"
I felt a tear welling up in my eye an I wiped it away with a sniff. I closed the card, set it down on my nightstand, and dug through the styrofoam packaging. I felt a cold metal object on the inside. I tried lifting it, but it must've weighed at least 150 kilos. "Eagle-- Help me with this!" I grunted. He groaned, but got up and stomped over to me. He bent down, grabbed the object, and lifted it out effortlessly. It was an engine block, a Ford 289 v8. I was confused. How did my father know I wanted a 289? How did-
My thought was interrupted with loud banging on my front door. Who could that be? I quietly told Eagle to set the engine down back in the box so nothing got crushed, then slowly walked over to the door. The door knocked furiously by now, and it got quite annoying.
"Yeah, I'm coming!" I snapped and muttered under my breath, "Jeez!"
When I opened the door, my eyes widened. In front of me was a changeling with brilliant sapphire eyes. She seemed a bit shy, definitely not Queen Chrysalis's warrior type.
"Erm, hi. Are you Gearhead Coldheart?" she asked, refusing to meet my eyes.