Chapters Rainfall: 0.272 inches
Hotel Everfree was a run-down shithole. There really was no other way to describe it. Drug deals and murders happen every few days here. Unfortunately, somepony in this hell of a place had information that I needed. Another colt was abducted. I had to find out more, before it was too late. Facing me was the lobby. The trickle of a drizzle was faint as I neared closer towards the front. The light pink ‘open’ sign flickered as I proceeded to push open the glass door.
The clerk at the desk glanced up at me, then continued reading her book. “What room you staying at?” she asked, rather angrily.
“Miss, I’m not looking for a room, I’m looking for a certain pony.” I replied straightforwardly.
“I can’t help you there, mister.” she said in a depressed tone. I glimpsed left and right. On my left was a soda machine with a note posted that read ‘out of service’. On my right was a window, which was a portal to the constant rain outside.
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” I responded as I extended my hoof, full of bits.
“Well, who ya looking for, handsome?” she eagerly said. I chuckled.
“Lauren Winter.”
Stairs creaked as I headed upstairs. Room 212. I checked down the hall, intently searching for the right one. Three doors down on the right was Lauren’s room. I lifted my right hoof and knocked on the oak door. “Come in.” a voice said.
“The price is $50. Ten minutes. No weird shit, ok? I’ll start to undress.”
“We kind of don’t wear clothes... Besides, I’m not here for that.”
“Then why the fuck are you here?”
“My name is Scott. I’m a private investigator and I’d like to-” Lauren backed away, fear striking her eyes.
“Please don’t lock me up...”
“I’m not here to arrest you Lauren. I just want to ask you some questions about your son, Johnny.” Lauren’s expression changed from fear to anger.
“I will not talk about my son.”
“More kids have been abducted, I need this information, Lauren."
“Sigh. Fine. Well, Johnny is...” She paused and her eyes seemed to drift off as she obviously reminisced of better times.
“Johnny was the best thing that ever happened to me. I still think about him every day.”
“Okay, Mrs. Winter, tell me more” I inquired.
“No, I don’t have to tell you anything.” Sigh. Well, this wasn’t gonna get me anywhere. I reached in my coat pocket for a business card and placed it casually on a table..
“Call me if you want to talk.”
I headed out, but something felt off. That’s when I started to stumble. Shit! I frantically searched the rest of my pockets for my inhaler. Where the fuck was it?! I almost didn’t hear the screams coming from Room 212 as I gasped for air. A familiar object graced my hoof as I checked my back coat pocket. I grabbed the inhaler and started to return to the room.
I looked inside and holding Lauren was a dangerous-looking horse. “Why don’t you leave her alone, plothole?” I shouted.
“Why don’t you buck off?” he sneered at me.
I tackled the piece of shit and started throwing hooves around. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a pushover. He grabbed a bottle off the table and swung it at my face. I barely dodged it as it cut my nose. Ouch. Now it was my turn. Another hoof to his face and I lifted him and started galloping towards the wall, splitting that same table in two in the process. The pain must’ve been remarkable, as he laid nearly motionless on the floor.
“Now get the fuck out of here.” I yelled. The lowlife proceeded to limp out the door, no doubt he’ll never come back.
Lauren remained silent as I walked out of the scene.
Rainfall: 0.680 inches
The fucking weather was atrocious. Critical evidence could easily be lost forever. I needed to investigate fast. Then again, I really didn’t have anything to worry about. The ARIA [Added Reality Interface Assistant] glasses easily can detect the slightest trace of foreign materials and chemicals. Up ahead were police vehicles and an ambulance. Their sirens lit up the darkness as I parked near the Lieutenant’s car. I was stopped as usual, for ID. Hmmm... Where did I put it? I reached around my suit for the my badge, impatient because time is crucial. Hoof struck metal as I sighed in relief. I waved the badge at the officer.
“Norman Greymane, FBI, sir. I’m looking for Lieutenant Blake?”
The officer pointed over by the crime scene, and I started to trot over there. From what I was told, the Origami Killer has been rather impossible to find. The evidence he leaves is nonexistent, except for a single origami horse. I was sent down here because the situation is escalating.
“Are you Lieutenant Blake?” I asked the rugged man in front of me.
“Yeah, and who is this?” he nastily replied.
“FBI agent Norman Greymane, sir.”
“Well, I don’t fucking need your help, my men are just as good as you government pricks.”
Well. Forget you. Time I checked this out myself. The crime scene was fenced and near the train tracks. The train could’ve been his escape route. Instantly ARIA picked up traces of the aroma of orchids, which are too commonly sold to further profile the killer. Besides that, everything else was pretty much moot. It looked like my best chance was the body. I walked towards the tent and nearly cried at the sight.
A young colt was sprawled across the soggy grass, robbed of his life by some scumbag. Some scumbag that was still out there. The cause of death looked most likely to be asphyxiation. The unnamed victim was definitely drowned. The first thing that caught my eye, though, was the blood on his leg. I snapped a picture with ARIA and waited for a result on who the blood was from. The next oddity that struck me was the orchid on his chest. Did the killer have some sort of remorse for his victims? Demented, but possible. Next to the colt’s hoof was a gently placed piece of folded paper. An origami horse. An indication from ARIA caught my eye. The blood was the boy’s. A small part of me saddened, even though I pretty much knew it wasn’t going to be from the Origami Killer.
There was no use staying here. “Blake, there’s nothing. I’m heading out.” I heard his sighs as I walked back towards my car.
The rain continued.
Rainfall: 0.986 inches
I don’t know how long it was I lost Jason. 2, 3 years? I stopped keeping track of time, it was just arbitrary now. Shaun hasn’t really been the same since. Today, though, I wanted to go to the park. Surely swings and merry-go-rounds would cheer him up. But what would snap me out of this depression? I can’t go on like this. It was my fault... Would Shaun ever forgive me?
I barely noticed the door swinging open as Shaun walked in. “There’s some mail here for you.” Probably bills.
“Hey, buddy, got any homework?” I asked.
“No, dad, I think I’ll just watch some TV.” he responded.
“Well... you want to go to the park? I haven’t been there in so long, since-” I stopped there. Shit.
“Eh, I’ll be fine here.” he said. The headline caught my eye: ‘Origami Killer Strikes Again: Another Colt Found Dead’.
“You sure? I heard they put in a new merry-go-round...” Luckily that was enough to coax him to take a stroll to the park.
I sat down and saw my son smile for the first time in months. He was on the swings, and even though it was drizzling, he seemed happier than ever. “Hey, Shaun? Ready to go on the merry-go-round?” A grin was all I needed as a response. I galloped around the ride, smiling back at Shaun. But something was wrong. My vision started to fail and blackness was beginning to invade my mind. The last thing in my sight was Shaun, laughing, unaware of what happened to me.
The constant pitter patter of a torrential downpour eventually brought me to consciousness.The rain was beyond heavy, and laying down, I felt soaked. the ground felt moist, and the first sight was the swings. The next thing I noticed was a soft item on my hoof. Yawns ensued as I reached to pick it up. In front of me was an intricately crafted origami mare, slightly stained red. Fucking no. No. No. No.
“SHAUN!”
Despite the concerned pang in my voice, I shouted the name more times than I ever wanted to count. I must’ve ran hopelessly for hours in the pouring rain. I didn’t notice as the drops of liquid anguish pounded me. He was gone. Forever.
The rain masked my tears as I yelled at the sky, not understanding why this happened to me.
Welcome, Greymane (1.326 in.)
Welcome, Greymane (1.326 in.)
Rainfall: 1.326 inches
What’s taking the bastard so long? I waited outside Captain Perry’s office so he can tell me where my office is. Perry’s the head of the homicide division, so hopefully he’s more professional than that jerk Blake. Right as I was about to wander off, the door swung open.
“Perry, glad to meet you. I’m Norman Greymane from the-” I was cut off as he started walking past me.
“Well Norman, can you walk as well as talk? I’ve got a press conference today, same as every day since that Origami Killer hit the streets.”
“Captain, do you know where my office might be?” I inquired, getting down to the real reason I wanted to talk.
“I think my secretary, Cherilee, does.”
I noticed a gold watch on Cherilee’s desk, beside a glass jar of bits. “What’s that for?” I asked.
“Eh, it’s a gift we buy the lieutenant every year.” The last thing I wanted to do is help buy that jerk Blake a watch.
“I don’t have any change with me at the moment.” I lied.
“Well, Norman, your office is over there. Follow me.” Cherilee arose and started to trot over to the back of the station. I instinctively did as told, eager to finally do some detective work. “Here it is.” Cherilee said as she pointed inside a storage closet-sized room.
“You’re joking, right?” I told her.
“Enjoy” she said before walking away.
What the fuck kind of office is this? Nearly windowless and filled with dust, this was the worst excuse for a workspace I’ve ever witnessed. In front of me was the barest of basics. On my left were extremely small windows as high up as possible, which shed little light in the small room. All it accomplished was highlighting the dust particles hovering over the carpet.. Ahead was an old tower of musky, olive-shaded, and most-likely rusted metal cabinets. There was also a cheap wooden desk, which was empty except for a few chewed-up pens and half of a pink eraser.. Right was a beige bulletin board, obviously heavily used as evidenced by the amount of holes from the constant use of tacks. The least I could do was renovate it. I shoved the desk towards the bulletin board and sat down. I switched on the ARIA and decided to change the scenery. A combination of swift hoof motions turned this horrible closet into a virtual Cloudsdale. A much more serene working environment, indeed. As for evidence, nothing really caught my eye. I needed way more evidence to even begin to piece together the murders. I could still work with what I had though.
First of all, I needed to triangulate the locations of where the last bodies were found. Most criminals commit their first crime in a ten-mile radius of their home so if things suddenly went awry, they’d have a chance to get back to their house. Also, I needed to map out a path of where the train heads around town to possibly mark where he could live. Since every murder was done near train tracks, this narrowed down the possibilities considerably. But first, I needed to find the locations of the other victims. Perhaps Perry knew. I’ll ask him.
I started to return the glasses to my pocket when my vision became blurry. Fuck. I needed Triptomane. Instead, I walked towards the door. All I needed to do was wash my face. Withdrawal symptoms would disappear surely. I raced towards the men’s room and hastily opened the faucet. Water splashed my face and when I looked at the mirror, the horse that stared back at me looked exhausted. Tired of everything I’ve been through recently.
Happy Tails’ Shop (1.394 in.)
Happy Tails’ Shop (1.394 in.)
Rainfall: 1.394 inches
The news was depressing as usual, but informed me of another victim of the Origami Killer. This time, I recognized the boy. It was the son of Happy Tails, a shopowner in Downtown Ponyville. I had a feeling Happy Tails wasn’t going to be openly altruistic about what happened, but it was a better lead than nothing.
As I entered the shop, a bell sounded and a rush of thoughts filled my mind. Various items were scattered clumsily and somewhat haphazardly on the shelves. One item in particular caught my eye. On one of the shelves to the right of the store I saw a glimmer, slightly obscured by a rusted wagon. Upon closer examination, I realized the object was a glass mare, almost similar to those the killer places on his victims.
“Hey, mister, you looking for something?” Happy asked, as it seemed he was trying to vie my attention away from the glass sculpture.
“Yes, Mr. Tails. Answers.” I replied, getting right to business.
“What do you want? This business is clean. No drugs, weapons-” Happy trailed off.
“No, no, no. About your son.” I straightforwardly said.
“I’m not talking about my son.” he flatly responded, similar to Lauren’s response.
“But, it’ll help with the case. Other children are in danger. Shaun Mars, a young boy, just got abducted-” but he cut me off.
“I’m not talking about my son.” he insisted.
Sigh. He didn’t intend to help me. While I was there, I decided that I might as well buy some inhalers. “They’re over there” he pointed to the front of the shop.
I started walking towards where he pointed when I heard the bell of the door ring. I looked at Happy Tails, who was lifting his hooves up, appearing very scared. I hid behind a shelf but couldn’t resist getting a glimpse of the pony that was probably armed.
“This is a robbery!” an unsettling voice proclaimed.
Shit. I needed Happy’s information. I needed to stop this robbery. I frantically searched for anything to distract him. I could hide behind these shelves and tackle him. Maybe I could just leave? Happy Tails wasn’t exactly going to talk.
That’s when I noticed the glass horse from before. Perfect. I picked up the heavy ornament and hurled it at the assailant’s face. He stumbled towards a shelf, which gave me my opportunity. The first thing I did was kick the gun away. The rest was easy. This crook wasn’t nearly as tough as that ex-client from Lauren Winter’s room. A swift stomp on his face was enough to knock him out.
Happy Tails thanked me before he went to storage and pulled out a box. “This is for you.” He said.
As I walked inside, I checked inside the box.
Inside were some items.
Four inhalers.
A note, which I couldn’t read now for the fear of it being ruined by the rain.
And several origami figures.
Sleepless Night (1.564 in.)
My mane was frizzy and the pillow was warm when I awoke from a nightmare. Strangely, though, I couldn’t remember the simplest detail about it. Damn insomnia is always messing with my sleep patterns. I tried without success to drift back to slumber, but I just couldn’t. I decided to take a shower. I started trotting over to the bathroom and begun to take off my underwear. What use I had for it seemed arbitrary as most ponies don’t wear clothes. I stepped in the shower and turned on the hot water. Not to brag, but I could easily say I’m a pretty mare. I’ve been told many times before, but most of the guys haven’t really been my type. My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden rumble from my stomach. Well, I guess it was time to wrap this up and get some food.
As I walked to the kitchen, the refrigerator was apparently slightly ajar, shown by the streak of light on the floor. I should’ve been worried, but I proceeded to search for a suitable midnight snack. An unsettling creaking sound pierced my ears. Before I could react, a glove covered my mouth and I was suddenly pulled back away from the kitchen. Another stood by intently making sure I didn’t try to escape. I wouldn’t let these assailants take me easily. A swift kick to the chest of the one holding me gave me enough time to run to the bathroom, but the other intruder chased after me. Before I was able to lock the door, the masked attacker barged through. I watched in horror as the aggressor pulled out a blade and started to inch towards me. I kept backing up until I stumbled over the shower curtain. The knife seemed to be swung in slow motion as it slowly approached my throat. The last thing I saw was the drain, as the blood mixed in with the running water.
My mane was even frizzier this time I awoke, and the pillow was steaming. My insomnia was apparently getting worse.
Rainfall: 1.700 inches
Paper can be as soft as a feather. Sometimes it can cut as deep as a sword.
This particular sheet of paper cut me so badly I probably needed stitches.
I stared at the letter on the table. The same table that Ethan and I sat at only a few days ago. I found it in the pile of ‘bills’ from the day before yesterday. The contents of the letter left me speechless.
When the parents came home from church,
all their children were gone.
They searched and called for them,
they cried and begged,
but it was all to no avail.
The children have never been seen again.
Just what the hell did that mean? Whatever cruel message it was trying to hint it flew by my head, except for the obvious fact it was related to Shaun’s disappearance. Unfortunately it was way too cryptic to get anything out of. Maybe there was something in the envelope. Inside was a ticket to a locker for Equestrian Railways.
The same train that hit Shaun was from that railroad.
I still had to check it out. It was my only lead.
I started to put the letter back in the envelope when I heard something from outside. When I moved the curtains to get a peek, a horde of camera flashes nearly blinded me. Shit! Now how was I going to get to my car? I could try going out the back, but my car was parked out front...
I’d have to face the paparazzi. I slowly opened the door and trotted down my walkway.
“Ethan Mars, I’d like to ask you some questions!”
“Mr. Mars, just a minute of your time!”
“Tell us about your son, Shaun!”
“Is Shaun’s disappearance related to the Origami Killer?”
“Do you still feel responsible for Jason’s death?”
Every single syllable stung as I stepped towards my car. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t an Earth pony... I could’ve easily flown away if I was a pegasus or used an invisibility spell if I was a unicorn. I sped away as the rants grew distant and I began to forget about it entirely.
Jason’s death might’ve been my fault, but I wasn’t going to let the same happen to Shaun.
“Faster, Daddy, faster!”
Jason was barely hanging on as I galloped across the center square of Ponyville.
“Daddy, where are we going?”
The sound of my hooves hitting the dirt were strangely relaxing, despite their repetition.
“To get a cake for the birthday boy!”
There was only one place to get a cake in Ponyville: Mr and Mrs. Cake’s shop. Ever since I was a child, the place was a haven for the best treats this side of Equestria. I was ecstatic to pass down the tradition. My, what a beautiful and serene day it was. The robins were out and about, happily singing a tune that filled me with joy. Other ponies were walking around as well, similarly enjoying the atmosphere.
“We’re almost there, Jason!”
When we arrived, I could instantly recognize the glorious aroma of newly baked cakes. It was just as I remembered it. On display were colorful works of art, so mesmerizing that a part of you felt guilty to eat it. Then you tried a little, and it was so tantalizing that that feeling was washed down with icing. Also there was my charming and stunning wife, Grace and my other son, Shaun, who traveled here earlier to place the order for the birthday cake. Finally, it was time to indulge and enjoy this time.
“Jason, why don’t you open your presents?”
That was one of the best days of my life.
It was also one of the worst.
I’ve relived it many times in the months after. But there was the lingering knowledge it had already passed, that things would never be the same. They weren’t.
“Jason?”
“Jason?”
“Jason?!”
That name was the only word in my head. Where was he? I just was talking to him a second ago. Frantically, I ran all around the cake store, as nervous eyes trained on me from ponies everywhere. “No.” I told myself. Claustrophobia started to set in.
“I saw him trotting to the lake!” said somepony. Shit. I just saw him. He couldn’t have gotten that far. The lake was empty.
“He went that way, Ethan...” a soft voice consoled.
“Thanks!” I replied as I changed course toward a more populated area of Ponyville.
“JASON! Get your flank over here!”
There he was, enjoying that new ball he just unwrapped.
“Daddy?”
Faster. I have to run faster. The unresting sound of a locomotive suddenly filled the tense air.
“JASON! NOW!”
“The ball’s stuck, Daddy...”
The train kept coming closer. The driver realized what was on the tracks and begin to halt.
My hooves were barely touching the ground as I went as fast as I could.
It was not enough.
“DADDY!”
That scream for help was forever embedded in my mind. For six months, the scene replayed in my head, over and over. Every time I tried to wake up, I heard his voice again. “Faster, Daddy, faster!” It was never fast enough. Every time that traumatic cry from Jason sounded, it pained me even more. But this time, I actually awoke from this nightmare.
. . .
“He’s conscious!”
A painfully bright glow greeted me.
“Wh-what?”
“You were in a coma for six months...” a voice solemnly stated.
“I had a horrible dream...”
The nurse immediately turned pale. “I’m sorry, Ethan. It wasn’t a dream.”
Everything started to fade to black.
. . .
The next memory of this horror was outside of my old home.
“Grace, I’m sorry!”
“Ethan, please don’t make this harder than it has to be, you’ve got to understand why I’m doing this.”
“Grace, please...”
“You can see Shaun from Friday to Sunday. I just can’t trust you anymore...” As my fate left Grace’s lips, she turned away and started to shake. A lone teardrop smashed the floor, a stain that could be wiped but always remained.
Rainfall: 0.765 inches
“Ethan. It’s not your fault.”
The consolation wasn’t heard as I stared at the architecture of the building. I used to be an architect, before everything collapsed on me. The glass windows were arched akin to a church, but instead was covered with blinds. It could be to help clients ignore the rain outside. There was only one circular window which linked this fantastically comforting room to the harsh and wet actuality through the glass.
“Ethan?”
Reality slapped me in the face and I returned to the psychiatrist’s room.
“Sorry, I was thinking. Yes?” He placed a packet in front of me. On the front was a swirly blotch of ink.
“What does this look like to you?” Pages were flipped as time dragged on endlessly. Until the last one caught my attention.
“And finally, Ethan, this one?”
“It’s... um... an origami horse.”
“Very descriptive, Ethan. Good job today, we accomplished a lot.” In reality, both of us knew we accomplished shit.
“Ethan, you know, you’re really lucky for surviving the trauma of the accident...”
“I don’t exactly feel lucky...” I replied and walked out.
Missing Ponysona (1.357 in.)
Rainfall: 1.357 inches
I somehow managed to drag myself to the police station. Was I the Origami Killer? I obviously couldn’t say that. Instead I decided to just report Shaun’s disappearance.
“At what time did you realize Shaun was gone?” the police officer asked.
“About 7:00. I woke up after a blackout.”
“A blackout?”
“I couldn’t remember anything. The next thing you know, Shaun was gone.” Another more intimidating man started to interrogate me as well.
“What time did you arrive at the park?”
“About 4:00.”
“Ethan, do you remember what Shaun was wearing?”
“No, I don’t...”
“Are you holding something from me?”
“Blake, stop, the man has been through a lot.” a voice with a Manehattan accent scoffed at the interrogator.
“Shut your horse mouth, Greymane. This isn’t your business.” the interrogator, apparently named Blake, jeered infuriatingly.
“Ethan!” a familiar voice shouted. I spun around in the swivel chair to find Grace, panicking.
“Wasn’t Jason’s death enough? It felt as if I was punched in the gut. Grace backed away after viewing my morbid expression. The other suited man Greymane began to talk with a calm expression.
“Well, Mr. Mars, it looks as if Shaun probably ran away. It isn’t like there haven’t been problems before...”
“Well, I have a suspicion it could possibly be the Origami Killer.” Grace nearly fainted as I watched her in the corner of my eye.
“I’m pretty sure he just ran away-” Graymane reassured before I cut him off.
“What if it was the Origami Killer?”
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t-”
“But what if it was?” I insistently asked, partially exposing my overall nervousness of the situation.
“Then your son has four days to live.”
