Dexter's Dark Tales

F O U R

I don’t know how it did it. I really don’t know how. I just did it. I walked out of the Everfree forest just as easily as I walked in. The shadows that hid the yellow-eyes were completely empty and dark and quiet. No creature came within my sight. No Timberwolf or other monster dared to cross my path. They knew which monster in the forest was dominant.

I took a moment to breathe. In that moment, I surveyed my surroundings and found I was right back where I started. A field of lush grass spread around, dimmed grey-blue by the pale moonlight. With the black forest behind me, I saw the lights of Ponyville in the distance. They were significantly dimmer than Manehatten, but it was something. As I began my trek back, I was reminded of the heavy weight of the pony on my back. I don’t know how long I was carrying her, but it definitely put a strain on Dexter's poor back. This isn’t good. I need to be limber and agile, just as much as neat and clean.

She had been out for a while. At first I thought she was just flustered from the shock of being attacked by a Timberwolf, but now I began to wonder. She wasn’t dead; I felt her breathing against my body. Any other pony might begin to worry. But the best I could do was make an observation of the situation and act accordingly. And right now the most logical thing to do was get her into the hooves of someone who could help, and more importantly, cared.

The further away I got from the Everfree, the less I could feel the foreign darkness. Soon I was left with just my own. The Dark Passenger nested down back in the depths of Dexter. Its stillness was surprising, after it’s ravenous displeasure of my actions of the evening. The Everfree forest is something. Its darkness is awe-inspiring. Of course, to say nothing of The Need. That urge still loomed over me like the moon did. That full fat blue moon. As still as the Darkness lie, it did not lie quietly. I heard its rumbling. But, maybe the Everfree could still help after all. I know how dark it is, and the ponies’ avoidance of it is clear. Now I know just how easily a body can be lost in the murky depth of the swamps and the bogs. Who knows how far into the forest they go and how deep they are? And I know my way around, apparently, preventing myself from getting lost. I began to make plans…

“…Mm. Huh? Wha?”

My other passenger awoke. I felt her shift and try to move, but she didn’t get far. I turned my neck around to get a better look at her. It was still dim, but outside of the forest, I could tell she looked a lot like her friend Rarity.

“Hey,” I said in a calm and soothing voice, “Are you okay?”

“Uh? What’s going on? Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Dexter. Your friend Rarity sent me to find you.”

“Rarity?” she repeated rather woozily.

I nodded. “Are you okay?” I asked again.

She nodded weakly, although that could have just been a combination of her head drooping and the bumpy ride she was receiving. I came to a halt. I bent down low to let her get on the ground with her own four hooves. Her legs shook as she tried to stand.

“Can you walk?” I asked. I didn’t like being a taxi service. Hopefully she could get herself home and leave dreary Dexter in peace.

“Mm. Uh, I think so.” She tried to stand, but immediately collapsed back down. I grunted as she fell on my back. “Ow. Ooh… My hoof hurts…” she whined.

I stood back up. Clearly she was in no condition to be left to wander alone. “It’s okay. We’re almost there.” I said, “Where do you live?”

“Wha? Where do I…?” Her head drooped back down, as did the rest of her. She sounded like she fell asleep again. Great. Now how was I supposed to know where to go? I hadn’t memorized every street in Ponyville, however few there may have been. Even if I did know them, I had no idea which street she lived on, let alone her house. With no other option, I settled for just getting to Ponyville first. I’d figure out where to leave her later. Suddenly, without moving her head up, Sweetie Belle spoke,

“I live on the east end of Maple St... Number 4.”

I nodded. We continued to Ponyville, with my new destination in mind. After a long pause, she whispered, “Dexter?”

“Yes?” I replied.

“I’m sorry.”

I was confused. “Sorry for what?”

“For running away. For making you come find me. For probably worrying Rarity and my family sick…”

Here we go. This was going to be a deep emotion filled conversation, I could tell. I prepared as best I could, and gave what I believed to be the proper answer to this young girl. “I’m fine.” I said calmly, “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

"Still, it's not your fault you had to get dragged into this," She went quiet again, then said, “I just… Everything is so different now. Ever since Scootaloo moved to Cloudsdale and AppleBloom began working on, on the farm more…I’ve just been really lonely." She added a sniffle to make her point. "Rainy Day was the only bright part of my day. When Rarity told me she was…” She paused and began sniffling. I hoped she wouldn't blow her nose into my coat. It’s a matter of personal hygiene.

After some tears, Sweetie Belle continued, “I didn’t believe her at first. I didn't want to believe anything. Then I just didn’t want anything at all. I just wanted to get away. So I ran... From everything, from everypony. I felt like…like there was nothing left.”

My gears slowly shifted. I turned from my usual cold and mechanical observant mode, to a more sympathetic one. “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.” That was a half lie. I have lost what I guess were ‘loved’ ones, but I never felt anything like what normal ponies would. I still knew what to say. “It's hard to believe at first. You can't imagine a world without them. But you have to be strong. You morn, yes... then you move on. Be strong. For you. For everybody.”

When I was a kid, I used to listen to an old police radio show All Points Bulletin. With my father being a cop, and sister's adamant interest of becoming a cop, we ended up listening to it a lot. In one episode, they had to interrogate a mourning widow. The main character spoke these exact words to her. When I first heard them, they struck me as odd as I had no idea ponies felt anything when people died. I certainly didn’t. At least, when they weren’t ones that died by my hooves.

“Ok Dexter,” she mumbled as she fell back unconscious.

We reached the outskirts of Ponyville in silence. There was nothing to say. My familiar stoic attitude only hardened when this poor filly poured her heart to me. It still surprised me. I was a total stranger to her. For all she knew, I was kidnapping her. Not that I would. She is only a child, after all.

A poor little lonely child.

It had been a busy night: the close call at Sky Burster’s, the interruption by Rarity, my journey into the Everfree, fighting a Timberwolf and carrying a sleepy filly on my back through the desolate streets of Ponyville. So I was a little more than glad when I tiredly walked up to the front gate of Number 4 on Maple Street. As I picked up the latch in my mouth, I heard someone calling from the house.

“Sweetie Belle? Oh mah goodness, Sweetie Belle!”

A crazily dressed mare with large hair burst out of the front door. I stepped back front the gate just in time for the mare to fling it open herself. In one quick swoop, she grabbed the body off of my sore back and squeezed the ever-loving hell out of it. I stood there like the brave little solider I was as the mare stroked Sweetie Belle’s curly pink hair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling and rolling around her gigantic smile. Her already ruined mascara and puffy red eyes indicated she had already been crying for a while. The woman continually whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

I heard another noise and looked up. Standing in the doorway of the house was another pony; a stallion this time. He had a similar fashion sense to the mare, in that he wore a gigantic straw hat and a floral shirt. However, he acted calmer than the mare, taking his time to walk up to the scene unfolding. He smiled at me. He opened his mustached mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He settled on patting my shoulder with his hoof. I smiled and nodded. I could tell he was trying hard, but failing, to hold back tears of his own. He was so weak.

“Lookit, it’s Dex!”

“Hey, wow.”

“Well I’ll be. He found her!”

This already growing scene became absolutely crowded as another five ponies entered onto it. It was Rarity and her group of the Elements of Harmony. Rarity immediately ran up and joined in the group hug that I had apparently missed had formed. In the light of Ponyville, I saw all four ponies clearly. Each was a white unicorn, and each had some variation of a purple-ish mane. Only then, did I just realize the importance of what I had done.

Sweetie Belle awoke, and she was crying again. She sobbed in between her explanation of why she nearly died. Her parents simply told her to “Hush now.” and that “Everything will be alright.” Rarity broke away from them to look at me. She had just as much water leaking from her eyeballs as everybody else. Stepping forward, towards me, she flashed me her teeth. Suddenly, she jumped at me. She swung her arms out and around me. Her hooves dug into the back of my neck. She squeezed me viciously, like she was trying to kill me. But she wasn’t.

She was hugging me.

“Thank you, Dexter,” she whispered in my ear, “I knew you’d do the right thing.”

I stood still, unable to properly respond for a second. I had never preferred the physical intimate touch of ponies, and I try to avoid it any time I can. So the longer Rarity held me, the longer I became uncomfortable. This whole situation was uncomfortable for me and my Passenger. But I made due and lamely hugged her back.

Rarity finally released me from her iron vice of a hug and went back to console her sister. That mare was surprisingly strong. Turning away from this cliché happy family, I came face to face with Rarity’s entourage. I recognized Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. But the fourth mare, the blue pegasus was a mystery. I had no clue who she was. They were all smiling at the heart warming scene. My chest stay cold and empty as the purple unicorn walked up to me.

“So you found her.” said Twilight Sparkle.

I glanced at the group of white unicorns again. “Yeah. Looks like I did.”

She looked and chuckled a bit. "I can't believe... I mean, of all the places of the Everfree, you actually went and..."

What could I say? That the Darkness had bonded with me and I was fueled by my dark passion. Even I didn't believe that. I went with, "Just got lucky I suppose." and shrugged.

"I suppose..." Twilight paused and looked back to her group of friends. “Rarity had just gathered us together.” she said, “After you left, she thought about how you didn’t seem interesting in helping and though you went home. She rounded us all up and we were going to look ourselves, when Rainbow saw you walking over here. ”

I gave her my best look of disbelief. “Of course I would help out. I couldn't leave a little kid alone in the woods at night.”

Twilight looked at me funny for a second then said, “Little kid. Right.” She smirked. “Well, good to know you’ll always be around to save the day.”

“Wahoo!” Pinkie cheered, then immediately began to cry. “I’m so happy. You’re a hero, Dexter! First thing tomorrow, I’m throwing you a big party!” Everybody else agreed and flashed more teeth at me.

So there we were. Dexter, the new hero of Ponyville, had just reunited a family. Sweetie Belle was back home safe and sound and the wise words of Dexter would keep her going strong through this tragedy. Everybody was happy and felt warm and fuzzy inside. Everyone liked me and thought I was a great guy. Despite it not going according to plan, the night went well. Then, why did I feel empty?

Of course, I always feel empty inside. I can’t feel anything else. But this was something different. Everybody saw me as a hero. I should have some kind of satisfaction or at least a little sense of accomplishment at the completion to this story. All I saw was a lack of accomplishment. The night was in ruin. Sure, it had resulted in my discovery of the Everfree forest, and I saved a kid’s life, but my prey had escaped and I still had no conclusive proof to satisfy the code. It was a moral victory. It was barely a victory. A useless gesture to both me and my Passenger.

The Need would go hungry yet another night.

I came into work with a bittersweet taste of humility and depravity still clinging to inside my mouth. Maybe I could wash it out later with a dandelion sandwich. I expected the whole floor to be abuzz with the news of Dashingly Daring Dexter’s heroic actions. But there was nothing different from yesterday. Everyone in the office looked either half asleep or completely asleep. Some of them, when I passed, turned expectantly in my direction. Seeing I had no donuts to sacrifice to the hungry tribe of the homicide police force, they turned back away uninterested. Yes. Look the other way. Away from this monster’s business.

I was running through my report of the Rainy Day case with just as much apathy as any other, when a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

“Dexter?”

It was a question, but it sounded like a command. The voice was feminine, yet had an air of an official quality that made you want to stand at attention and say Yes Ma’am! I restrained myself oh so hard from doing so and settled for turning to give her my attention. Lieutenant Tracy Spectra graced me with her appearance. Her face was completely the opposite of what she had been in front of the cameras. Instead of her rather warm smile, her mouth was a solid line. Today, she was all business.

“This is Tom.” She stepped to the side to reveal the goofy, wide eyed young buck from yesterday. He smiled generously. It was a stark contrast to Spectra’s stone cold expression.

“We’ve met.” I said.

Ignoring me, she went straight to the point, “As you know, you are here to teach. Tom will assist you until your four week period is up. You are to teach him everything he needs in order to independently do…” She paused uncharacteristically. “Whatever it is you do.”

And on that, she immediately turned on her heels, which is mighty difficult to do when you have four of them, and walked away. “Do not let me down.”

Don’t go. Please don’t leave me alone with him.

Tom enthusiastically gave a salute. “Yes Ma’am!” When she was out of sight, he spun around. He bowed low at me. “Sensei Dexter-san. Show me the path of blood.”

My eyebrows were permanently scrunched together. What on earth was I getting myself into? “Okay…” I said slowly. “I was just doing the report on the Rainy Day murder.”

Tom jumped into the chair next to mine. He spun around twice. My hoof prevented the third spin.

“Have you ever written one of these before?” I asked.

“Nope.” He pronounced proudly.

I’ve never been a teacher before, but I’m fairly certain that knowing next to nothing about the subject at hand is not a good way to start things. Then again, that never stopped my father from teaching me everything I needed to learn. I sighed. Back to the basics, I suppose. I spent the next while explaining everything about what was expected from forensics techs. I covered all the important details, at least the ones important right now.

“So, yeah. The rest is pretty much self-explanatory. You were at the crime scene, so you already know most of the evidence. Here.” I passed him a blank copy of the blood paperwork. “Write up this and then let me see when you’re done.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best!”

He grabbed the folder out of my hooves, bit a pen between his teeth and furiously began to write. I glanced over his shoulder and saw despite his gusto, his penmanship was incredibly neat and clean, a feat, which in itself was not noteworthy, I did in fact take note of. I classified my note ‘odd’ due to the fact that I knew Tom had a horn. He was also very strong with magic, specifically levitation. I hesitated to begin a conversation with Tom, but luckily for me, a saving grace in the form of a yellow pony in a fedora.

“Dex, Tom. Load up. New blood on Carousel drive.” he called with a grin.

Tom wore a smile that could give Pinkie Pie a run for her cupcake money. “Wow! Another one. And so soon, too. I hope there’s going to be a lot of murders. I wanna learn everything I can.”

Letting that one slip by, I was simply glad to be getting out to another scene. I reached over and grabbed my bag. Tom did the same. I looked over and noticed his bag was the same brand as mine. The exact same make too. It was identical. He just turned to me and smiled.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Carousel Avenue wasn’t too far from the precinct, so Tom offered that we walk. Well, gallop would be the more appropriate term, as I huffed and panted to keep up behind the surprisingly spry and agile unicorn. I felt weird walking to a crime scene. I always got a ride, or drove myself. In such a small place as Ponyville, walking would have to become the norm now.

Carousel Avenue. That name should have rung bells in my head. There should have been lights and sirens flashing and buzzing around inside Dexter’s noggin. But they all left unplugged, as the strain of keeping my mask working at full power near Tom took all the power. Not to mention the running. It was only when Tom finally stopped running, did something finally tip me off. And how should it be, that it was Tom.

“Hey, Dex. I hear this place is great. We should grab a bite after.”

I came to a stop and took a second to breathe before I looked at what he was pointing at. He was pointing up to a café down the street. I stared at the cafe. My head tilted right and my brain finally kick-started. My head snapped to the right, and looked down to the end of the street. The familiar red and blue lights of police wagons flashing did nothing to hide they were indeed surrounding the same house. All the buzzers went off at once.

I wanted to run. Run as fast as I could possibly run. Not away, mind you, but towards the scene. If this was indeed what I thought it was, I could be in a lot of trouble. So I briskly walked, keeping composure. Arriving in a density of officers and yellow tape, my worst fear was realized that the house was indeed the one.

Finding the closest officer, I calmly asked, “What’s the situation?”

He just slowly shook his head from side to side, blowing out a deep breath through his nostrils. He nodded towards the house. “See fer yerself.”

The front door was open. Stepping inside, I noticed cones and plastic covering the floor to prevent anyone from stepping on the evidence. And what evidence it was: beginning from the front door, a thick red line ran across the floor, into the center of the room. It turned at a 90 degree angle to the right, and continued onward, all the way to the wall. But it didn’t stop there; my eyes continued to follow the line up the wall all the way to the ceiling. My eyes widened. My eyebrows climbed my forehead. I stared for what seemed like eons at the most interesting thing I had yet seen in Ponyville. I just continue to stare, everything else fading away. My mouth was a gape, ready to speak, but of course nothing came out of it, so I shut it. There really was nothing to say.

Strung up from the ceiling, dangling just above the fireplace mantle, was a bright green pair of severed pegasus wings, the edges encrusted in dried blood. Taped to the right wing was a small note, proudly displaying the words: FOR YOU