Darling Little Rarity Part One

O N E

Sun. The day. The bright and blinding light of Celestia’s huge flaming ball of gas showers down upon all the land. Dexter does not like it. There are too many problems with the day. It is too bright. Too hot. Too irksome to this monster’s business.

O how Dexter can never wait for the shadows to cast over the land and fill the sky with a dim light, just enough for the trained eye to see its blinded prey. The jeweled sky of Luna. Just the image is enough. The Need calls out, urging him to go. Go. Do it. Do it now! But he must be patient. He must be careful. Now is neither the time nor the place. If there is one thing he is besides a monster, it is obedient to The Code. Patience, my friend. If we've made it this long, surely one more day would be nothing.

Unfortunately, the shadows do not surround this hidden hunter. The anticipation dies down in dearly demented Dexter as Celestia’s light shines down and swallows him up in its blinding haze. The darkness lay dormant for now, waiting patiently for the right time. But like all predators, cover must be kept lest the element of surprise falls away, and they prey escapes. And the predator is executed. So I go, keeping the façade alive. Saving my true identity, my true nature for the right time.

“Buy some apples, sir?”

Ah, the familiar desperate call of business. The shouts and hounding cries of ponies trying to sell you anything at an overcharged price. One of the few similarities of here and home. And like home, I do not stop. I continue on, as my mission of the morning does not include purchasing apples. However, I do take the time to be polite and say, without shouting, “Not today, thanks.” I doubt she heard me in this crowd. I do not care.

Weaving in and out of ponies scattered throughout the farmer’s market, I have finally made my way to my destination: Sugar Cube Corner, the local bakery shop. Despite my relative newness to the town, I didn't get lost. A huge gingerbread house in the middle of small brown buildings and thatched roofs wasn't an easy thing to miss. As I enter, the yellow stallion behind the counter immediately puts on his cheery salesman face, just as fake as the ones back home. But this is one that almost seems genuine. A rare commodity in the big city. I ask for a box of assorted dozen donuts. He cheerfully repeats my order and quickly goes about grabbing tongs and a box. In a very happy and enthusiastic manner, he tosses exactly twelve fresh donuts into the pink box and shuts the lid. He places the box on the counter, still smiling. He pauses for a second and looks at Dexter, the very patient customer. After a moment of silence, the yellow cashier speaks.

"Hey, you're the new guy...Dexter, right?"

"That's me." I say, giving him my best impersonation of a smile. I have never seen this pony before in my life.

He smiles back, and almost as if on cue, explains, "Pinkie told me about you. Sorry I couldn't make it to your party."

My party. He makes it sound like I wanted the whole town to be inside my apartment; pushing me to my limit of self-control.

"Didn't you cut yourself or something?" he asks.

New spreads fast. I shrug casually.

"Yeah, but it's no problem." I say in a way I hoped would give him the hint to shut up and leave me be. Although I would have loved to stay and start chatting up a lively conversation about self-mutilation, I decided there were more important things to do with my time. I’m sure he would understand.

I paid him and I was out. I walked down the street of bland buildings and thatched roofs, offset by the multitude of techno-coloured ponies. Everybody I passed gave me a smile or a hello. At first I politely reciprocated these gestures, but after about ten of them I had settled on ignoring them. It was so odd to be receiving such politeness and general happiness from total strangers. The closest thing to that in Manehatten was if someone cut you off in traffic and their yells did not include obscenities.

Ah, how I missed Manehatten. The towering sky scrapers, the bright lights and the endless blood soaked crime scenes. My kind of town. I’d spent so much time in the dark alleyways, abandoned buildings and shady meeting places over the years, I'd practically known them by heart. If I had one. Maybe a wizard would give me one someday. But until that day, there would always be that need, that urge, to keep on reminding me that there were things to do.

Now that urge would have to be satisfied here, in Ponyville, the place of sunshine, smiles and donuts. I could have gagged at the thought, had I not been trained to keep a straight face at these kinds of 'pony' things. Now now, I assured myself, every place has its secrets and nobody is perfect, no matter how clean they may seem. The recent addition to the police force's homicide department proved that. But no matter how good the law is, there are always those that get away, those that slip through the cracks. That's where I come in. Dexter is here to make sure they get what they deserve.

A new town. A fresh start.

It may have been the idea of plunging a finely sharpened knife into the chest cavity of a murderer wrapped on a table that got my day going, but it was the donuts that the ‘new guy’ had brought that tickled all the ponies down at the precinct’s fancy. Near the entrance to the Homicide Department, a somewhat elderly white pony took the first of the donuts I had.

“Hey, donuts!” He took one between his false teeth. “Thanks, uh…”

“Dexter.” I smiled casually.

“That’s a weird name,” he said bluntly, “I’m Tangerine Sprinkle. Detective Tangerine Sprinkle.”

I nodded politely and headed on in. Everybody in the offices and hallways said hello and I politely offered them each a donut. Even if offering donuts was not considered a polite social gesture, I still would have given them away. In my early days, I used to enjoy a fresh donut before a call to action, but sadly the novelty of them had worn thin. I watched as one by one the baked circles of dough, loaded with sugars and carbs, disappeared from my box. Hm. I'll stick to my needles and knives please.

"Hey, you're one of the new guys, right? Not a bad first impression."

I smiled as the bronze pony wearing a fedora took the last remaining donut and walked back to his desk. Satisfied with their glazed sugary dough, everybody else got back to work and I was left standing there with a greasy pink box. I looked down into it. It was completely empty. Like me.

Done with my entrance, I went into a small room in the corner, which upon entering I saw contained rows and rows of bottles of chemicals, machines and assorted blood tech. It was somewhat smaller than the one back home, something I had expected moving from Manehatten to here, but I made due. I had barely got acquainted into my new office when some red maned yellow pony entered it. He knocked politely, acquiring my attention. .

"Hey, we're gonna get started with the thing now." he said.

One of my eyebrows stayed in place while the other climbed high on my forehead as I looked at him. "Thing?" I asked him.

"Yeah. You know. The thing." he looked at me as if I had my head stuffed in my ass. "The... speech or whatever. Hell, I don't know, whatever it is. It's starting now. C'mon."

Well who could say no to that? Reluctantly, I rose from my chair and followed him to where a crowd of ponies had gathered in a doorway. We all herded like cattle into the large meeting room. Rows and rows of chairs were filled with police officers and detectives; at the front of the room was a podium. The air was thick with the smell of coffee and my donuts on ponies' breath. I regretted ever buying those things. I sat next to the yellow pony, who later introduced himself as Crimson Speed, in the back, along with our fellow lab geeks. As we waited for this... 'thing' to start, I tried my best not to fall asleep. I already knew what this address would be about, and I knew I'd seen enough in Manehatten to know how to do my job. There had been no big news reports or murders to discuss with the Ponyville Homicide department. The only thing to discuss was the fact there was a Homicide department in the first place.

Finally, a dark brown pony with a black mane and glasses strode up to the podium. Her horn glowed green as she levitated a thick stack of papers that was supposed to be a speech up to the stand. Everyone went quiet. She cut the papers and tapped them against the desk, shuffling them into a very neat and exact order. She cleared her throat.

"Good morning. I am Lieutenant Tracy Spectra. Today is a very important day for Ponyville, as we open the new Ponyville Homicide Department."

She droned on for solid twenty minutes. Everyone in the room listened intently, except for me. I assume she went on about each part of the department and how important they are, all the while trying to look good for the dozens of reporters and cameras surrounding the room. I say assume, because all I heard was 'blah blah blah please kill me'. Oh, how I would, lady, had The Code allowed it. She went on.

"We also have been given the honor of having many professional forensics analysts and technicians from all over Equestria join us."

This is the only part that has anything to do with me.

"As Ponyville has never had the required tools and resources to begin on its own, we have the pleasure of these ponies teaching us and aiding in our endeavour to keep Ponyville safe. In addition, we have also promoted a new detective into our force, Ms.-"

She went back to her monotonous drone. I sunk back and closed my eyes, feeling myself blend into the chair and melt away into the background. I drowned out the speech with thoughts of the wonderful things I would soon do, and just how helpful I would be here. Still, Lieutenant Spectra's words bounced around my head and made me think about why I was here.

No, I wasn't thinking that deep philosophical thought of the reason or truth behind the meaning of existence and conscience entirely, for I am but a humble pony. But there was a reason I had to be in Ponyville. See, Ponyville may be a small city comparatively, but it is nonetheless a growing town, with growing tourism. The fact that a group of ponies here had saved the world a few times over didn't hurt either. When I had heard the news of their victory over Nightmare Moon, I simply sighed. Endless night didn't sound so bad to me. Then there was Discord. Apparently, his power had only affected Ponyville, as Manehatten stayed there same during his release. Later they were called heroes. Yeah, because you really made a difference out there, stopping all those bad guys.

Because of this increase in population, the crime rate in Ponyville increased post haste. The small police force Ponyville needed to be expanded and upgraded when they got swamped with both misdemeanors and murders. So they created a new homicide department and decided they needed a blood spatter analyst. Why not Dexter? They sent some letters to Manehatten Homicide, requesting aid. They showed it to me and asked me to go show the newbies how things are done. Well, things were getting rather routine and boring back home anyways. Routine is never good. As clean as I am, it’s best to mix it up a little. Stay above it all. Besides, maybe a change of scenery wouldn't be the worst thing. The second I stepped off the train and met Pinkie Pie, I realized I was wrong.

My eyes snapped open just in time to catch everybody leaving. The podium was empty; no trance of Ms. Spectra remained. I cricked my neck and got up to leave. I was herded out with the cattle again and headed back to the dark cave of the corner office. Only a few short minutes later, and Crimson Speed was back in my office, with another 'thing'.

"C'mon, Dex. Load up." he said with a bright smile, "We've got a scene."

I smiled. Now that's my kind of 'thing'.