The Sharpest Tool

Chapters

Prelude
The Frayed Ends of Sanity
Creeping Death
Fade to Black
The Four Horsemen
Jump in the Fire
Broken, Beat and Scarred
To Live is To Die
One
Am I Evil?
Epilogue: And Justice for All
Some Kind of Monster (Alternative Ending)

Prelude

The old factory building was dark and empty. Most of the windows were boarded up, and the walls were covered in colourful graffiti. Vinyl Scratch finally found a place without cobwebs (or rather with less cobwebs than elsewhere) and sat on her haunches, glad that sunglasses covering half of her face prevented Freebass from noticing her uninterested look.

“So, Vinyl, how do ya like it?” a diminutive green stallion with a striking orange mane and smiley cutie mark asked enthusiastically.

“Well… lots of space, good acoustics, but I still can’t see how do you want to organize this,” she replied. During her career as a DJ she had seen way too many event managers. Some of them were sad ponies in suits who had no idea about her music, but they had money. Others, like Freebass were die-hard fans with lots of enthusiasm, no experience and, usually, empty wallets.

“We want to do this like in old times – ya know, old industrial building, flyers with clues how to find this place, dancing, light show…”

“…drugs…” Vinyl added. If that guy wanted to make an illegal rave, he had to have money, at least the amount needed to bail himself and the DJ from jail. He didn’t look like someone who sleeps on cash, so he had to have sponsors. Who’s most likely to sponsor an illegal event? Drug dealers, looking for the new clients. Vinyl wasn’t a great detective, but that deduction came to her easily – no surprise, considering the fact that she’d taken part in few such gigs in her youth. That, however, didn’t mean that she wanted to do that again. Octavia wouldn’t approve that.

“What? No, no drugs! Everything is legal, organised by Equestrian Anti-Drug Foundation,” suddenly Freebass’ voice became more official, “Through such events, we promote healthy lifestyle among the young ponies, showing them that the entertainment without drugs or alcohol is possible!” he paused, as if he was awaiting the applause, but the only sound was his own speech, echoing through the old factory.

“Oh… ok…” Vinyl muttered, stunned. Fifteen years and instead of illegal underground parties we have legal anti-drug underground parties? Sweet Celestia, am I that old? she thought.

“So, Vinyl,” Freebass said, coming back to his usual, excited tone, “d’ya agree?”

“Well… You probably know that I’m not really a role model…”

“Don’t worry about that, we all have some past sins... mistakes of youth…”

Hey, I like my mistakes of youth! Well… most of them…

“…and by taking part in such action you could show the audience that you can be both clean and cool,”

“I don’t know…”

“And we can pay you one-hundred thousand bits for that show. Two thousand now.”

“You know what? I’m in!” she exclaimed.

“Great,” Freebass smiled and they hoof-bumped. He passed Vinyl two thousand bits from his saddlebags and reached to them for something else.

“Wanna smoke?” he offered her a suspicious looking cigarette.

“Whoa, mister Anti-Drug Something! Have you heard about irony?”

“Yeah, it’s that little black berry,” he said casually, lighting up his cigarette, “Besides, it’s a medicine, I have a rare genetic condition… But don’t mention it to my bosses,”

“I won’t,” she said, taking the joint from him, “That’s funny, actually I have a rare genetic condition too…”

***

Vinyl was trotting happily down the dirty street. She had two thousand bits in her pocket, a contract for another ninety eight thousand, and, last but not least, Freebass gave her the address of his neighterlandese pharmacist. Nothing, not even the view of half-ruined buildings surrounding the street could spoil her good mood.

“Hey! Watch out!” an unpleasant voice yelled. She realised that she almost stomped on a pony lying down on a pavement, curled under the dirty blanket. It was a pegasus, judging by the wings’ shape under the cover. Only the pony’s face was visible, and it wasn’t a nice view: it was dirty, covered in scars and burn marks. However, for Vinyl, who was in the cannabis-induced love-and-peace-to-the-world mood, it didn’t matter. She looked at the piece of cardboard in front of the pony and read:

DISABLED GRIFFON WAR VETERAN, NEED MONEY FOR LIVING AND MEDICINES.

“Oh, sorry dude,” she said, and took ten bits from her bag – her levitation spell failing her due to her being under the influence – and gave it to the pony.

Suddenly, a claw caught her hoof and pulled a knife from under the blanket. Seeing the blade an uncomfortable distance from her throat, she stammered:

“Err… you need more? I don’t really need those two thousand bits in my saddlebags… Take it all.”

The pony tore her bag open, took the bits, and ran away, limping, disappearing in the nearest nook. Vinyl sighed with relief. Out of the blue, she recalled the knife fight rules some shady pony had taught her when she was thirteen.

If they have a knife and you don’t – do what they say or run for your life. If you both have knives – use the hoof with a knife to distract them, hit them with the other hoof and run away. If you have a knife and they don’t – go home and rethink your behaviour. Why are you assaulting unarmed ponies?

“Well,” she shrugged, “This guy is probably rethinking his behaviour now…”

***

Cloud Counter was pacing through his hotel room. He had enough of this half-collapsing town, and if it was for him, he’d stay in Sankt Ponysburg, even after Cloudchaser had dumped him. But he needed money and the Detrot weather team offered quite a good salary for anypony who’d calculate how much rain would they need in the following year.

He sat on the bed and took a look at his notes again. He had considered proposing them to create a tornado, thus solving problem of the empty buildings that needed to be demolished, but he was afraid that those pegasi had no sense of humour.
Just after he opened his laptop to make some simulations, he felt that somepony else was is in his room.

“Hey, that ‘Do not disturb’ sign isn’t on the knob for nothing!” he said, slightly annoyed. There was no response, so he raised his head only to find out that he was staring in the two barrels of a sawed-off shotgun, held by a dirty pegasus mare, whose one wing was hanging lifelessly. Her body was clad in old blanket, to hide the fact that large parts of her lilac coat were missing. Her mane was cut short. A pink bow, probably the only clean piece of her clothing was tied to her right hoof.
“Hello there, my little pony,” she said, grinning sadistically just before pulling the trigger.

Author's Note

Here we go.

The Frayed Ends of Sanity

A week earlier

Royal Guards station in Ponyville was usually rather calm place. Ponies in the small town rarely committed any serious crimes so the guards’ primary task was looking for lost pets or helping the tourists find their way.

This morning, however, was different. It all started with the ringing of the phone standing on the desk of Surveillance, the commandant of the Ponyville Royal Guards.

“Surveillance… Yes… Yes… What? BY DISCORD’S BALLS, HOW?”

The young Royal Guard called Short Shock, who was standing near the door of his boss’ office immediately backed away and trotted to the coffee machine, where his brother, Sharp Shock, stood, drinking his first coffee that day.

“Brace yourself, bro,” said Short Shock, “Boss just got some bad news.”

“How bad?”

“‘Discord’s balls’ bad,”

“Oh crap…” muttered Sharp Shock, spitting his coffee.

“Hey, Sharpy, what kind of foul language is that?” asked Hot Pursuit, Surveillance’s second-in-command, who was passing by.

“Boss just got “Discord’s balls” phone call,” explained Sharp Shock.

“Celestia save us…” Hot Pursuit muttered. At the same moment the door of the Surveillance’s office bursted open, and the commandant trotted to them.

“You’ll never gonna believe it! Those morons let her run away! The bucking pegasus with one functioning wing, after a year in a coma, and two years of stuffing with happy pills, and somehow she escaped those bucking shrinks!”

“Who?” asked Short Shock.

“Who?” Surveillance mocked him, “Toolsmith, of course!”

“How?” asked Hot Pursuit.

“That’s the bucking icing on the cake made of manure!” Surveillance yelled, “She killed the nurse and flew away through the window, and nopony noticed! The healthcare in this country is really…” for a moment how was looking for the right word, but then decided that no swear in Pony could fully sum up the state of the Equestrian healthcare. He sat on the nearest chair and asked:

“Can somepony bring me some coffee?”

“Give him decaffeinated, or else we’ll have to find ourselves a new boss,” Hot Pursuit muttered to Sharp Shock, who saluted and went back to the coffee machine.

“How could she fly away?” Hot Pursuit asked Surveillance, “You said she has only one good wing?”

“Yeah, one of them is, using medical terms, completely bucked up, yet, apparently, she is able to glide. After she’d woken up from a coma, they started rehabilitation and, as you can see, it went better than expected.”

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“Get the ponies to block all the roads from Ponyville. I’ll go to the hospital and look for some clues. And one more thing: bring me Twilight Sparkle, at any costs. She’ll figure something out, that’s for sure.”

***

Twilight Sparkle stopped and looked at the sign above the metal door.

“Psychiatric Ward – Secure Unit,” she read.

“Nice place,” Surveillance said, unfazed, and opened the door. Twilight still stood there, reluctant to come in.

Three years ago she was drugged and imprisoned in her own basement by the serial killer, known as Toolsmith, who was using special potion to control the minds of ponies and make them kill other ponies. Twilight was eventually rescued by Spike and Rainbow Dash, who was shot in process, but, fortunately, recovered quickly. Toolsmith, whose real name was Flitter, was severely injured and knocked into a coma by Twilight’s magic and Spike’s fire. However, a year later, she woke up and since then she became a resident of Secure Unit of the Psychiatric Ward. After a long rehabilitation she became able to walk again, but scars and burn marks served to set it stone the saga of past events.

And now she ran away. Even though Twilight knew Flitter wasn’t there, she didn’t want to enter the place she had lived for such a long time.

“C’mon, Miss Sparkle!” Surveillance urged her, seeing her zoning out, “And watch out, this unit is secure for a reason.”
She followed him. Through the open door of one of the rooms she saw a little filly, resembling Apple Bloom, playing with toy blocks with letters on them. She stopped for a moment. The filly grinned at her mischievously and came back to her blocks, arranging them to form the word “murder.”

“Sparkle!” Surveillance yelled.

Keep it together, Twilight. You’re seeing things… thought Twilight, looking at filly once more. She was much younger than Apple Bloom, and, in fact, wasn’t similar to her at all.

“What did she do?” she asked Surveillance, pointing backwards.

“Lottie? Dunno exactly, she’s not from Ponyville. But I noticed that she creeps the whole staff out,” he shrugged, as if he couldn’t believe that doctors are so fragile, “I’ve heard that when they wanted to have her teeth checked, Colgate ran away when she saw her.”

They arrived at Flitter’s former room to see Dr Tulp examining the body of a young white mare, lying in a pool of clotted blood.

“Poor filly,” he muttered, “They shouldn’t let them work here…”

“Good morning, Doctor,” said Twilight. She’d met him once, though this wasn’t a pleasant meeting: she ended up passing out.

“Oh, good morning, Ms Sparkle,” he replied, raising up his head.

“What do we have here, Doc?” Surveillance asked.

“Fight…” he said casually, “Contrary to popular belief, it’s not easy to strangle somepony, especially with bare hooves. Our inmate didn’t know that, and judging by those marks,” he pointed at the bruises around the nurse’s neck, “She tried to strangle her. But, as I said, it’s not easy to strangle somepony, especially an earth pony. She was struggling. But, as you can see, Toolsmith was lucky,” he looked at the wound on mare’s chest, and the pen lying in the pool of blood.

“She stabbed her with a pen?” Twilight shook her head in disbelief.

“Correct,” Dr Tulp smiled, but quickly came back to his usual, solemn expression, “With her own pen…”

“Too bad, they will have to write her off…” commented Surveillance, to which Twilight groaned. Even though the captain had dropped the habit of referring to the victims as "those poor bastards", his empathy was still rather low.

“Doctor,” she said, “I wondered about Flitter’s wings. Surveillance said that one of them is damaged, but she somehow flew out off the window. Is that possible?”

“Well, I’d actually examined her wing, a year ago,” Dr Tulp said, “Out of scientific curiosity, you know that I’m an expert… Nerves were a mess. They regenerate, but it’s a slow process. I even measured the level of neurotrophins… for the purposes of my research, of course. She has problems moving that wing, not to mention the fact that her bones were fractured and they grew back together a bit incorrectly. But, still, she can glide. It’s painful for her, her flight is unstable and she’s constantly at risk of spinning, but she can glide.”

“I’m gonna find the head shrink,” Surveillance said in an impatient tone, “I need to ask him some questions, like, why there are no bars in this window. You, Ms Sparkle, will examine her room and do what you do best: think.”

He left the room. Soon after, Dr Tulp levitated the nurse’s body on the stretcher, and, with the help of his assistants, they took it to the morgue.

Twilight looked around the room. There were almost no furniture there, except of the old-looking bed. She noticed the small cardboard box standing under it, and pulled it out.

There were only few things in it, an effect of ward’s rules, forbidding the inmates from having anything doctors would label as dangerous. Old newspaper cuttings, a plushie, and some photos was all Twilight found.

The cuttings (as Twilight noticed, they were torn rather than cut out of the magazines; she thought that giving a mental patient the scissors would be at least careless) were mainly articles about the process of the Toolsmith. Twilight felt shivers course down her spine when she saw the courtroom sketch of herself. Some cuttings were the sport news; one article was an interview with Rainbow Dash just after she joined the Wonderbolts.

Most of the photos were depicting Flitter and her friends: Parasol, Thunderlane, Krissy, even Rainbow Dash. Seeing happy faces of those ponies, of which two were now dead and one, disabled and insane, ran away from the asylum, made Twilight shiver.

“I think one’s missing,” someone said, causing Twilight to jump on the bed. She turned back to see a cream-coloured nurse.
“What do you mean?”, unicorn asked.

“She had the favourite one, with her sister, taken on the day Cloudchaser became a Wonderbolt trainee. And I see her bow is also missing, it was always in that box too.”

“Oh… thank you, Ms…”

“Golden Heart,” she said, “I was kinda Flitter’s friend…”

“Oh…” said Twilight, trying not to look at the blood on the floor, “That must be hard for you, she killed your colleague…”
“Yes…” replied the nurse flatly, “Yes… that’s hard,” she awkwardly backed away and trotted somewhere, leaving Twilight staring blankly at the door.

***

“So, do you have something?” Surveillance asked, when they were heading to the ward’s entrance.

“Not much. She probably took only her bow and a photo of her and her sister,” said Twilight, “She was collecting cuttings about her process and some sport news.”

“I’ll tell my Cloudsdale counterpart to visit her sister. You know, every fugitive needs few basic things, like money, food or shelter, and they often look for family’s help.”

“We’ll also have to talk to the nurse Golden Heart. I think she’s hiding something…”

“Well, good luck with that one. Golden Heart was the name of the nurse who was killed,”

“What? But… I talked to her, just few minutes ago…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?”

“I mean, not to the dead nurse, to the other one, who introduced herself as Golden Heart…”

“Short, cream-coloured? Soon-to-be ex-head of this ward warned me that they have a patient, whose favourite stunt is to pretend a nurse… He said that she was quite close to our dear Toolsmith.”

“Just great… So, what will we do now?”

“Wait. She’s on a run from nine hours. Average hoof speed over uneven ground barring injuries is 4 miles an hour and that gives us a radius of 36 miles. Probably less, as she needed to rest. My ponies are searching every hay stack, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area. If she even made it to Cloudsdale or elsewhere, we’ll find her soon.”

***

8 hours earlier

Rainy Water was standing near his chariot below Cloudsdale, smoking a cigarette. It was almost one o’clock in the morning, and soon he’d make his last course to the pegasi town.

Pegasi were barely noticing Rainy Waters, as most of them preferred to go back to their home town using their own wings. However, for earth ponies, unicorns and those pegasi who were too young, drunk or drugged to fly, Rainy Waters’ chariot was the only way to get to Cloudsdale.

Just when he thought that he’d have to make his last flight with an empty chariot, he saw somepony walking down the road.
“Good evening,” he said, “Or good morning, if you like.”

“Hello,” the mare said, appearing in the light of the torch.

“Sweet Luna, what happen’d to ya?” the cigarette fell off his mouth. The newcomer’s fur was almost completely burned, she was limping, and although she was trying to keep her right wing in a proper position, it kept lowering itself to the ground, twitching occasionally.

“I, umm… had an accident,” she explained, “I saved two foals from the fire, but I got burned when I was running away.”

“You’re a hero then!” he exclaimed, “I rarely carry heroes in my chariot nowadays… This world is really…”

“Yeah,” she said modestly, lowering her gaze to the ground.

“Why are you wearing this bow?” Rainy Waters asked.

“One of the foals gave it to me, and I decided to keep it. How much do I pay?”

“For you, it’s on the house,” he said, helping her to take a seat in a chariot, “My brother has a foal too. Oh wait, she’s not a foal anymore, she’s sixteen, I think. I keep forgetting,” he laughed. “He had a hard time raising her, he and his wife also pull the chariots, but long distance ones…” He looked at his passenger, who was nodding off, and took off in the air.

“And three years ago there was that case with the Toolsmith,” he noticed that the mare twitched, but thought that she was just looking for the most comfortable position, “He never told me what happened that day when she ran away from our parents’ 50th anniversary… Crazy filly, really… But they found her in the same district where that guy was killed.”

“I remember that,” said the mare and yawned, “It was about that time when I was wounded. I lived in Fillydelphia at that time.”

“Then you probably haven’t heard how everything ended… They said she’s crazy and locked her in a loony bin. Back in my days they’d hang her…” he turned back to see his passenger sleeping, so he shrugged and focused on the flight.

***

The chariot landed gently on a cloud. Rainy Water stopped and woke up his passenger.

“Do you want me to drive you home, madam?” he asked.

“No, thanks. It’s not far away,” she replied.

“Ok. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

For a moment he watched her walk away, but soon flew home. The mare double-checked if there was no one in sight and trotted to the small house at the end of the street. Memories flooded her, but she shook them off and checked the cloud near the front door – the spare key, as always, was there. She opened the door, entered the dark room and went upstairs. She remembered exactly which room belonged to her sister. Six steps, and she was in front of the door with an old Wonderbolts poster on it. She smiled and went inside.

A room was quite messy, more than she remembered from her past. Several medicine boxes and an empty bottle of Applejack Daniels were scattered around the floor and a nightstand. Cloudchaser was lying on the bed, snoring. She was a bit skinnier than three years ago, but apart of that she hadn’t changed much.

“Hello, sister,” Flitter said. Cloudchaser raised her head quickly, looking around half-consciously, before her eyes focused on the pony’s silhouette in front of her. For a moment Flitter thought that she was going to scream, but instead she said calmly:

“I’m dreaming again. This is not happening.”

“No, sis, it’s me!”

“You’re not my sister. My sister died three years ago.”

“What?” Flitter exclaimed, “’Chaser… I ran away from the hospital…”

Cloudchaser raised on her bed, as if she’d just woken up. She looked at her sister with disbelief.

“Why did you came here? Three years…” she snapped, and suddenly pushed Flitter off the bed. The crippled pegasus hissed when she hit the floor, injured wing first.

“YOU! How dare you coming to me after… after everything! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I’VE BEEN THROUGH AFTER I FOUND OUT THAT MY SISTER IS A SERIAL KILLER? Three years… nightmares, therapy…”

“I’m sorry, sis,” Flitter said, “You must understand that I…”

“There’s nothing to understand here! You’re insane! You killed those ponies, ruined my life and you think “sorry” will be enough?” Cloudchaser sat on the bed, her voice trembling, “Every day I was convincing myself that you died. That Toolsmith killed you. I wanted to remember you as an innocent pony, my dearest little sister. Not what you became now. That’s why I’ve never visited you.”

Flitter was barely listening to her, lost in her thoughts. Finally, she asked:

“Is he here?”

“Who?”

“Cloud Counter, of course!”

“No, he’s not here, and you should really…”

“He dumped you? Son of a…”

“No, I dumped him. The next day after you were caught,” Cloudchaser’s voice cracked.

“Where’s he?”

“Just listen to yourself! You ran away from a bucking hospital and first thing you want to do is to kill someone, who never did anything wrong to you? Really, my sister is dead. She’d never do such a thing.”

“He cheated on Parasol and Krissy,” said Flitter coldly.

“THEY’RE DEAD TOO!” Cloudchaser snapped, “BECAUSE OF YOU, IF YOU DON’T REMEMBER!”

“I’m sorry, sister.”

“I told you that “sorry” is not enough!”

“No, not for that…” suddenly Flitter raised from the floor with an empty bottle in her hoof. Before Cloudchaser could react, she was hit with it. She fell off her bed, spreading her wings to regain balance, but Flitter hit her again, this time with a bare hoof, rendering her unconscious.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Chaser,” the scarred pony muttered, tears flowing from her eyes.

Author's Note

If you don't know, who's Lottie, and why Colgate ran away from her - check this out.

Creeping Death

Sharp Shock was nervous. Since he was a foal, he was scared of heights and magic, so, according to Surveillance, he was the best pony to assist Royal Guards from Cloudsdale during their visit in Cloudchaser’s house.

He was standing, shivering, in front of Twilight Sparkle, who was aiming her horn at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s painless…” she muttered, “Just don’t move, and everything will be all right.”

When her horn began to channel the energy, Sharp Shock suddenly screamed, and dodged the approaching beam, which ricocheted, and flew through the window.

“Aaargh, horseapples!” somepony’s yelling could be heard from the outside, followed by a loud “thud!”.

“Are you ok?” Twilight looked through the window with a worried expression on her face, “Oh, hi Derpy.”

“Yeah, I think so. What was that?” a grey pegasus with a yellow mane, lying on the ground, asked.

“I’m so sorry, it was a cloud-walking spell! Are you sure you’re ok? I’m afraid it could interfere with your own spell, since you’re a pegasus.”

“Well, it exploded, but don’t worry, I’m kinda used to that…” Derpy smiled, and took off in the air.

“Hey, couldn’t we just ask some pegasus to…” Sharp Shock’s question was suddenly interrupted, when another Twilight’s spell hit him by surprise.

“Sorry,” unicorn said, “That was the only way to cast it without you running away.”

“Oh… thanks. So, when will we fly there?”

“You won’t be flying there,” said Hot Pursuit, “It’d take too long, so Twilight will teleport you directly to Cloudsdale.”

“Oh no…”

***

“Are we there yet?” Sharp Shock asked. Two pegasi guards who accompanied him could easily be Surveillance’s relatives. The fact that after he arrived to their station, he had a sudden attack of motion sickness didn’t help him in making a good first impression.

“Almost,” said the taller, black one, whose name was Steve. The other one, orange, with a chestnut-coloured mane, was also called Steve, what Sharp Shock found conspicuous.

Even though he was scared of heights, he started to really like Cloudsdale. The street they were walking was peaceful, most of its inhabitants were at work now. The houses made of clouds were reflecting the sunbeams, creating an unique impression.

The house they were heading to was last in the row of similar buildings.

“Strange, the door is open,” said the orange Steve.

They sneaked inside the house and started to search the first floor.

“Clear!” the black Steve shouted from the kitchen.

“Clear!” orange Steve replied from the bathroom.

“Clear… but someone was here,” said Sharp Shock, looking at the chest of drawers in the living-room. Most of the drawers were open, its contents scattered on the floor.

“Let’s go upstairs,” black Steve proposed. Both pegasi flew up, leaving climbing to Sharp Shock.

The door to one of the bedrooms was open.

“Hmm, it looks as if someone had a nice little pharming party last night,” said orange Steve, looking at the pegasus lying on the floor, surrounded by medicine packages. He took some of them to look closer, “There’s everything here, antidepressants, sleeping pills…”

Sharp Shock ran to the unconscious pegasus quickly, and checked her pulse.

“She’s alive,” he said.

“And these packages are full, Stevie,” black Steve added, “She’s not drugged.”

“Not to mention the black eye… Something happened here…”

***

“So, what are the news, Shock?” Surveillance asked, just after Sharp Shock rolled out of the chariot.
“Toolsmith was there before us. She attacked her sister and stole some money from their house.”
“Is… is Cloudchaser alive?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. She’s in a hospital, she has a concussion. Steves are now searching the whole town, but most likely she has already left it.”

“Great… and we don’t know where’s she heading…” said Surveillance.

“Well, Cloudchaser doesn’t exactly remember what her sister said, but she mentioned Cloud Counter. You know, boss, this freak with glasses, who…”

“Yeah, I remember. Not that it makes it better, this guy travels all around the Equestria…”

“Excuse me officer,” the owner of the flying chariot suddenly interrupted, “Did ya say ‘Toolsmith’?”

“Not your business, sir,” Surveillance replied grumpily.

“Well, maybe not,” the pegasus said, “but just yesterday, or rather today at night I was talking about Toolsmith with my passenger…”

“Oh, come on!” Surveillance yelled impatiently.

“A poor filly, she was covered in scars and burn marks…”

“Really I have no time… WHAT?!”

“When exactly did you meet her?” Twilight asked.

“My last course at night, so about 1 AM. Why is it so important now?”

Twilight’s answer was barely audible, due to Surveillance trying to contact every single guard at the same time with his radio. However, it was audible enough for Rainy Cloud to react with a word he wouldn’t want his niece to use.

***

She stood at the edge of Cloudsdale and looked down.

You can do this. You already did it once tonight, and you can do this once more.

She positioned her wings, gritting her teeth when a jolt of pain from the right one hit her. The muscles were stiff, some of them hurt, while others were completely numb and lifeless. Every move was torture.

At least the window was a bit lower… she thought, closed her eyes and jumped off the cloud. A wave of cold air hit her, causing another jolt of pain. She almost did an involuntary barrel-roll, but she somehow managed to compensate for the fact that her right wing was missing about half of its feathers. The left one practically begged for preening, but she had no time. The saddlebags with a blanket, money, food and photo of her and Cloudchaser were slowing her down, but she’d rather walk by hoof than get rid of them.

She managed to glide for a few hours, losing altitude rather quickly, before her wing finally snapped, and she fell on the ground, cursing under her breath. She stood up and looked around. Her landing place appeared to be a narrow path in the middle of the forest, north from Cloudsdale.

I wonder if they’ve already started to chase after me, she thought. She didn’t think about taking any clothes from Cloudchaser’s house, so she took a blanket from her saddlebags and wrapped it around her body, covering the wings and most of the wounds – her head, apart of a scar and butch cut mane looked rather normal.

She walked a few miles down the path undisturbed, thinking about her sister. She didn’t mean to hurt her, but their talk didn’t come out as she expected. My sister is a wreck, and it’s all Cloud Counter’s fault! she thought, His, and Twilight Sparkle’s.

Suddenly, she saw a large clearing with a wooden building standing near the road. A sign above the door read “The Prancing Changeling Inn”.

Looks like one of those inns from horror movies, built on an old buffalo graveyard, hosted by vampires or cannibals, and visited mostly by lumberjacks…

She wasn’t eager to come in - since she had woken up from a coma, she had almost no need to sleep. She wasn’t exactly sure why, the doctors never told her about it, preferring to give her sleeping pills, but it came in handy during her escape. However, sudden grumbling in her stomach reminded her that her last meal was the supper in the hospital.

Oh, come on! There are surely no psychopathic killers in there, she said to herself and opened the door, Not to mention ponies, who are looking for those.

The interior was almost empty, spare from a blue unicorn with a white mane, sitting by the counter and staring into the glass of whisky, as if she wanted to read the sense of life out of it. Even barmare, a young, pink earth pony with a green mane, was paying more attention to her hooficure than to the guests.

“Um… hello…” Flitter said. No one replied. She went to the counter, and sat near the blue unicorn.

“It’s almost dawn, girl, drinking this early?” she asked.

“Frankly, my dear, Trixie doesn’t give a damn,” the unicorn replied, still looking at the bottom of the glass.

“Rough times?”

Trixie turned to her, eyeing her scar, unusual hairstyle and the blanket she was still covered in.

“Trixie’s not gonna enroll to any sect!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“You’re from a sect, aren’t you?”

“What? No, I just covered myself in this blanket because the morning is cold. And I look like that because I had an accident.”

“Oh… the great and apologetic Trixie… apologizes,” a weird note appeared in unicorn’s voice, as if she scratched an old wound. She raised from her chair and sloppily walked to the guest rooms.

“Who was that?” Flitter asked the barmare.

“Some ex stage-artist,” she said in a bored tone, “Came here three days ago, and has been drinking ever since.”

“Is there a chance for a breakfast?”

“The breakfast will be at six o’clock. It’s not six o’clock yet.”

“There’s always such a crowd here?”

“Oh, no. During the day there are more ponies, usually complete freaks – only those choose this road,”

Works for me. Golden Heart always calls me a freak. Or maybe called? she smiled at the reminiscence of a pen in her hoof, and the short flight to freedom. The barmare continued:

“Vendors, mercenaries, artists… you at least seem normal in comparison to them. Recently, even a weather team mathematician came here.”

Flitter’s ears raised in attention.

“Navy-blue, chestnut-coloured mane, wears glasses, abacus as a cutie mark, sometimes speaks with a silly accent for no reason?” she asked.

“Yeah, this one. Stayed here for one night, got madly drunk, and tried to pick up Trixie. You know him?”

“Yup, he’s my cousin. Did he say where he was going?”

“He mentioned Detrot.”

“I always wanted to meet him again,” Flitter said, trying to hide the excitation in her voice, “How far from here is Detrot?”

“At least three days by hoof, but ponies from nearby village often travel there with hay or fruit. They sometimes take passengers.”

Few hours later, almost exactly at the time when Sharp Shock and two pegasi both named Steve entered her sister’s house, Flitter paid some bits to a farmer pony and sat on a cart full of hay, pulled by four ponies. Before one of the Surveillance’s Royal Guards teams found an old inn on almost forgotten route and managed to interrogate the Great and Not-Quite-Sober Trixie, who remembered the oddly dressed pony with short hair, she was on Detrot outskirts, talking with a pegasus from local weather team about charity action involving collecting money for burn victims, and asking him few innocent questions about their latest operations and ponies involved in them.

A few days later, when all of Equestria was already talking about the escape of one of the most dangerous serial killers in its history, one of the most dangerous serial killers in Equestria’s history was sitting on the pavement, covered in blanket, pretending that she was a disabled war veteran. She knew which hotel Cloud Counter resided in, but she needed to get a weapon. An easy task, but only for those who had money. She didn’t want to approach her victim with only a knife one of the farmers gave her and which she was now hiding under the blanket.

Suddenly she hissed, biting her lips when some gawky pony bumped into her injured wing.

“Hey! Watch out!” she yelled.

“Oh, sorry dude,” said the familiar, pale white mare with an electric blue mane, reading the text on a cardboard.

Author's Note

Chapter 3 (or 2, since I don't count Prelude as chapter) is up! Also, The11thWonder agreed to be my proofreader again, so already published chapters may undergo some changes.

Fade to Black

The door to the library opened suddenly, and a white, female Royal Guard came in.

“Hello Spike,” she said, seeing the dragon carrying several books, “Is Twilight here?”

“Oh, hi Hot Pursuit! Twi is in the basement, doing some experiments,” he replied, “She said that she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

“It’s important,” said Hot Pursuit, trying not to think what kind of experiments Twilight conducts. She seemed ok, but during her career Hot Pursuit met too many ponies, who seemed ok, and ended up in prison, “May I come in?”

“Yeah, but tell her that you had to make me let you in, or she’ll be mad.”

“Ok. Protect and serve, that’s my motto,” she smiled at him and trotted to the basement.

The underground room was dark and cold, Hot Pursuit almost bumped into a box full of test tubes and decided to tread carefully.

“Twilight? Are you here?”

“Hot Pursuit? What are you doing here?” she heard the voice of an unicorn from the distance.

“Surveillance sent me to bring you to the station at all costs.”

“Again? Wait a minute, I’ll make it a bit lighter.”

Few light bulbs lit, and Hot Pursuit saw a weirdest laboratory she’d ever been to. In the middle of the room stood an operating table with four straps, one for each leg. Next to it stood a big machine, which was vibrating slightly, occasionally giving strange noises. By the walls was a fridge and few shelves. Hot Pursuit saw some laboratory glass on them, next to the something that looked like an unfinished replica of Ponyville, a pony’s skull and a jar filled with formaldehyde. The guard watched it for some time.

“Is it a dead foal inside?” she asked in a bit panicked tone.

“I think so,” Twilight replied absent-mindedly, “Most of the equipment was here before I came to Ponyville, I guess one of the previous librarians was interested in pathomorphology.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he owned a freak-show,” Hot Pursuit commented, “How’s the experiment?”

“Not good. It seems that to conduct it I’ll have to dig a round tunnel with circumference of about seventeen miles, and Rarity forbids me to dig through the Carousel Boutique’s basement,” she levitated the blueprints, and drew something on them with a pencil, “So, what brings you here?”

“The Toolsmith killed Cloud Counter in Detrot,” said Hot Pursuit.

The blueprints fell off of Twilight’s magic field.

“Wh… what?”

“She shot him tonight. Surveillance is going to fly there, and wants you to come with him.”

“I can’t go there! You know that I’m not a detective anymore.”

“You helped us a week ago…” Hot Pursuit said, staring at the unicorn unsurely.

“ I confused a patient with a nurse… Not very helpful, if you ask me.”

“Yes, but still you’re the one who knows the Toolsmith the best. I’ve read the paper you wrote about her.”

“Who didn’t?”

“Short Shock,” Hot Pursuit laughed, “You know, he and his brother are like those two Royal Guards from that joke: they always walk together, because one of them can write, and the other one can read.”

“Oh, don’t be cruel for them,” Twilight smiled weakly, “I’ve heard that even Surveillance says they improved. And Cheerilee told me that Sharp teaches foals the first aid…”

“For somepony, who is not a detective, you know many things about the Royal Guards. Are you sure you don’t want to help us?” Hot Pursuit asked. Twilight opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say “no”, but after a while closed it before finally saying:

“Fine. I’ll go with Surveillance.”

***

“Dad, you promised!” an orange filly said.

“I don’t know… You’ve heard about this guy who was killed there…” a pegasus stallion muttered. His coat was orange, just like his daughter’s, but his mane was short and black.

“Dad, I’m sixteen! And Rainbow Dash will be with me all the time.”

“Well…”

“Good morning, mister…” a cyan mare hesitated. Although she knew his daughter since she was a little filly, she still had no idea what his name was.

“Vindaloo” he introduced himself.

“So, Mr Vindaloo, I’ve heard what you were saying, and I assure you that Scoots will be perfectly safe with me,” Rainbow Dash said, “By the way, you’re going to fly us to Detrot?”

“Yes,” he nodded his head, “But I’ll be going back at the same day, and I’m afraid to leave her in the town where Toolsmith runs free…”

“Don’t worry, I bet she doesn’t have ticket for DJ P0N3’s concert,” Rainbow Dash said, “Besides, I’ve met her once…” she leaned to him and whispered “…and beat the crap out of her.”

“Oh… If you say so…” he said, puzzled, “I have to meet the crew before we depart. Just wait here till you’ll be boarded.” He went through the airport’s hall and disappeared behind the pilot’s office door.

“So, this is your dad? Cool guy,” Rainbow Dash said. Scootaloo nodded.

“Yeah, but he still treats me like an eight-year old. I can fly now, I have a cutie mark, but he and mom…”

“Squirt, that’s what parents do. For example, my mother…” suddenly Rainbow Dash saw a familiar silhouette of a lavender unicorn in the crowd of ponies.

“Hey, Twilight! Over here!”

“Rainbow Dash! What are you doing here?”

“A birthday gift for Scootaloo - we’re flying for a concert to Detrot. How about… oh, I see,” Dash said, seeing a guard, who was struggling to find the way through the crowd.

“Good morning, Rainbow Dash,” he said coldly, “Congratulations on becoming a Wonderbolt,” his facial expression didn’t changed a bit.

“Surveillance,” a memories of the storm three years ago caused Rainbow’s smile to fade, “How are you, officer?”

“A serial killer managed to ran away to Detrot and kill another guy. Try to guess, Ms Dash.”

“Oh… nevermind,” said Rainbow Dash. She remained silent until they went outside the airport hall and saw the flying chariot they were supposed to travel with.

Twilight called it a “chariot” mainly because it had wheels, but this was the only similarity. A large, wooden fuselage was connected with a grey, cigar-shaped balloon. On each corner of the fuselage was a harness for one pony.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Scootaloo’s father, who suddenly appeared near them, said, “The balloon makes the whole construction lighter, so it requires only four pegasi to carry even thirty passengers at once!”

“Awesome!” Scootaloo exclaimed. Rainbow Dash examined the airship.

“How fast is it?” she asked.

“Well, it’s not the supersonic speed, but I assure you, we’ll be in Detrot in no time,” Vindaloo said.

They went aboard. Surveillance checked the interior and leaned to Twilight:

“Did they ever think about using it in military?”

“Well, griffons used something similar as bombers, but their airships were not very agile and thus easy to shot down. Not to mention that the balloon is filled with hydrogen.”

“Great…” he said and took his seat. To his dismay, he found out that Rainbow Dash was his neighbour.

“Survey,” she said, “I always wondered why most of the Royal Guards are white. There’s some kind of selection, or you just use bleach?”

“Colour-change spell,” he explained, and closed his eyes, hoping that she’d let him sleep.

“Not very stealthy, if you ask me, Survey,” she giggled.

“We can change to camo if it’s needed. And don’t call me Survey.”

“Ok, Survey.”

He groaned and turned to Scootaloo.

“You’d probably want to sit near your friend, wouldn’t you?” he asked, smiling creepily.

“Sure, no problem…” Scootaloo said, and whispered, “…Survey.”

He pretended not to hear that and swapped the places with a filly.

“Mother of Luna,” he said to Twilight, “Are your friends always like that?”

“Sometimes,” she smiled, “Have you ever met Pinkie Pie?”

“I think I’ve arrested her once…” a memory of a pink monstrosity haunted him, “Or, at least, I tried.”

“Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts,” they heard Vindaloo’s voice, “We’re going to take off. We want to remind our passengers that flying out of the windows and teleportation aboard are strictly forbidden, unless there’s a life-threatening situation.”

“Why can’t we fly?” Scootaloo asked.

“It can change the balance of this airship, I think,” Rainbow Dash explained, “I tried to fly with cargo once, really, mass distribution can be a real bi…” she managed to pause in time. Although she was doing her best to avoid using foul language in Scootaloo’s presence, it was way too late – the filly was learning quickly, and she already managed to teach Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle words that caused Rarity to faint, and Applejack to shake her head with a mixture of fury and admiration.

***

Vinyl Scratch was dreaming about a hot shower and a bed, but, unfortunately the only thing she could get was a cup of foul-tasting coffee provided by Freebass. Stallion explained to her that his bosses want her to attend the Equestrian Anti-Drug Foundation’s press conference.

“I guess I’m their new mascot?” she asked.

“Exactly. Don’t worry, it’ll be easy, just smile, don’t drink, don’t say anything controversial and don’t take any "medicines" before the conference. How are your eyes, by the way?”

“Great,” she put her sunglasses on, trying to get into her stage persona before entering the press room.

“Take care,” Freebass said.

The press room was full of ponies. She knew most of them: after spending so many years in show-business, she’d been interviewed by probably every musical reporter in Equestria.

She hated all of them.

“Vinyl,” said the pink mare from MTV Equestria. Vinyl couldn’t remember since when they were calling each other by name, “So far you weren’t known for taking part in many charity actions. What made you support EADF?”

A hundred thousand of reasons Vinyl thought.

“Well,” she said, “When you’re twenty-seven, ya suddenly feel that you’re not a filly anymore. It’s like, ya want to make somethin’ for the future generations…”

She could almost see Octavia sitting in front of the TV, choking on laughter. Enough of this Miss of Equestria talking, time for an autobiography.

“When I was a kid I met many junkies, so helping ponies who have a problem with drugs was my first choice.”

Their main problems were “who ate all my mushrooms?” and “why’s Vinyl lyin’ in da corner, drooling?”, but Freebass told me not to be controversial.

“Ms Scratch,” a brown stallion from Young Colts Celestial Association stood up. Vinyl remembered him: he had interviewed Octavia and her once, was absolutely oblivious to sarcasm, and was asking stupid questions: for example, he asked Vinyl if it was true that she was a good swimmer.

“Oh yeah, my father taught me to swim the hard way: he pushed me to the river.”

“Wasn’t that too hard for a filly?” he asked.

“No. The hardest part was to get out from that sack full of bricks.”

The memory of his shocked face caused her to zone out.

“Excuse me, could you repeat your question?”

“I wanted to know, how do you like Detrot?”

“Well, the citizens are very friendly,” she said, Especially that guy who mugged me, “And I really like its unique, industrial architecture.”

She ran out of comments, so she took a sip from a glass of water on the desk in front of her.

“Will ya collaborate with local DJs on yer next album?” a reporter from Playmare, whom Vinyl knew only because of his distinctive accent asked. She took a deep breath and started to think if she knew any DJ from Detrot, when suddenly she heard:

Hello, Vinyl. Remember me?

“Ms Scratch?”

Smile bitch. And answer that question as if I wasn’t in your empty head. Don’t even try to fight. I had a lot of time to improve the recipe…

Author's Note

A bit of autobiography: the pathomorphology departament in my university actually keeps a baby preserved in a jar of formaldehyde on display. A bit jarring, excuse the pun. On the other hand, forensic medicine department has a mummified head of Nazi soldier who commited suicide in 1945. They keep it in a cardboard box...
And, in case you wondered, Twilight wants to build a Large Hadron Collider.

The Four Horsemen

The Detrot Royal Guards’ station was bigger than the one in Ponyville, but Twilight could see many similarities, like old, scratched furniture, dull grey paint on the walls and ubiquitous smell of dust, sweat, cheap coffee, parchment and mould.

The commandant of the guards was Surveillance’s old friend, called Cold Case. His brown coat had already started to go grey, but his eyes had a spark of wisdom acquired during long years of service in them, and his deep voice was somehow calming to everypony within earshot.

“Good afternoon, Ms Sparkle,” he said when Surveillance introduced her, “I heard that you helped much with catching the Toolsmith three years ago.”

“Well, that’s not…”

“I’ve read your paper. Psychology is my hobby, but here we have to deal with brutal force,” he levitated some photos, “I think you’ve heard about Krönlein shot, but I need to warn you that it doesn’t look nice…”

Twilight of course heard about Krönlein shot, but still seeing the effects of it caused an unpleasant sensation in her stomach.

“Are you sure she did it?”

“Yes. She probably snuck into the hotel through the emergency exit and flew away from the balcony. The washermare had seen somepony similar to her in the backyard, before he was killed.”

“Do you have any other witnesses? Or informants maybe?” Surveillance asked.

“Well, the first results were promising, we caught about dozen of ponies with a scars on their faces, another dozen of ponies with short manes and a bunch of random hobos. Still, none of them was her. You know, there are lots of places to hide in this town. Night Watch helps us, they have some informations… gossips, actually, but they’re really good.”

“Night Watch?”

“You’ll like those guys, Ms Sparkle.”

***

“I have to warn you: they’re a bit strange. They don’t like to be called Royal Guards, they prefer Night Watch instead,” Cold Case explained, “And, for Faust’s sake, don’t make any sudden moves around that mare.”

They were walking through a staircase of some graffiti-painted block of flats. Cold Case stopped in front of a green door on the third floor and knocked it.

“Come in!” said somepony with almost unnoticeable trace of foreign accent. Cold Case opened the door and they trotted inside.

At first Twilight thought that a black pony with fireball cutie mark, standing in the hall was a pegasus, but then she noticed that his wings were different – featherless and similar to a bat’s. His ears were bigger than average pony’s ones. His mane was dark blue, and his yellow eyes were looking at her carefully.

“Frau Sparkle, I suppose?” he asked, “Name’s Flammenwerfer. Follow me.”

When he walked to the living-room, she saw that instead of hooves, his hind legs had a set of small claws.

“Evolution,” he laughed, noticing her stare.

The living-room was rather messy, and Twilight thought it similar to Rainbow Dash’s house: some empty pizza boxes and beer cans were scattered around the floor. In the middle of the room stood a sofa with another bat-pony on it, watching a TV. He was a bit shorter than Flammenwerfer, but more muscular. To Twilight’s surprise, she found out that his cutie mark resembled Fluttershy’s: three moths were in exactly the same position as her butterflies.

“Sorry for ze mess,” he said, his accent thicker than his roommate’s, “Gestern we had a small party. By ze way, my name ist Falter.”

“Judging by the state of this flat, you have a small party every day,” Cold Case remarked, “Where’s Schwalbe?”

“Sleeping in her room. Gonna wake her up,” Falter said and lifted himself from the sofa. When he opened the door to another room, Twilight saw almost normal bedroom, complete with Wonderbolts’ poster on the wall. However, there was no bed, instead of it there was a perch on the ceiling with a dark silhouette hanging from it.

“Wach auf, Faulenzerin!” Falter exclaimed.

“Leck mich am Arsch, Huresohn,” a grumpy mare’s voice replied him.

“Schwalbe doesn’t really speak your language, but if you speak slowly, she’ll understand,” Flammenwerfer explained, “She came here from Flankfurt only recently.”

Meanwhile, a bat-mare called Schwalbe flew off the perch and followed Falter back to the room. She gave Twilight a nasty look and said:

“Was ist das? Ein Frühstück?”

“Don’t worry, we don’t normally eat ponies,” said Falter, mistaking Twilight’s confused expression for fear.
“Schwalbe, this is Twilight Sparkle from Ponyville. She came here to help us looking for Flitter.”

A bat-mare tried to pronounce Twilight’s name, but after few failed attempts she came up with a short, angry speech, repeating words “Scheisse” and “Frühstück” several times.

“She’s glad to meet you and apologizes for her lack of language skills,” Flammenwerfer translated with a poker face.

“Yeah, and she’ll call you “breakfast” instead,” Falter giggled.

“No problem,” said Twilight. The two stallions started to argue whether their companion ever apologized for something, and the unicorn looked at her carefully.

If Flammenwerfer was slender, then Schwalbe was almost a skeleton. When she spread her wings for a moment, Twilight saw the ribs under the black fur. Her mane was styled in a mohawk, reminding Twilight of Zecora, and her cutie mark was a bird of prey. She was wearing a necklace made of fangs which looked strangely familiar.

“Are these…”

“Changelings’ fangs” said Falter casually, “And she didn’t buy it.”

“Ok, Ms Sparkle, I’ll leave you with them,” said Cold Case, “Surveillance and I are going to look for the Toolsmith in a more… conventional way.”

When he left the flat, Flammenwerfer asked:

“So, do you have any questions about our methods or us? We’re used to ponies looking at us, so that’s not a problem.”
“Me… oh,” Twilight noticed that she was staring at the bat-ponies in awe for the whole time, “Maybe one question: do you always sleep upside-down?”

To her surprise, the answer came from Schwalbe:

"Die Fledermausponys haben zwanzig Prozent cooler Flügel,” she said.

“Ach ja,” Falter added, “As you can see, Schwalbe can’t speak Pony and generally despises your culture, yet she knows ze Wonderbolts’ catchphrases by heart.”

“Arschloch,” Schwalbe muttered hostilely.

“But she’s right,” Flammenwerfer said, “Being a bat-pony means not only twenty per cent cooler wings, there are also other traits that come with it. You’ll see some of them tonight.”

“Tonight? What are we going to do?”

“Investigate. While ze Royal Guards prefer to work during the day, and waste time for ze paperwork, we prefer to work at night. Zis town gets much more interesting after dark,” Falter explained.

“There are lots of places to hide here,” Flammenwerfer added, “Old factories, sewers, whatever you like. Our task is to check them all.”

“Just three of you?”

“Well, four, including you. We’ve heard about your victories over Discord, changelings, Sombra and Nightmare Moon, so you’ll be a nice addition to the team,” Flammenwerfer smiled.

“Yeah, we might not look like, but we’ve also faced many enemies,” Falter laughed.

“As mercenaries?” asked Twilight innocently.

“How do you know?”

“It’s easy – even if I haven’t guessed by the language, you mentioned that Schwalbe came from Flankfurt, so you’re from Germaney. She also calls me “breakfast”, and you said that you don’t normally eat ponies, which is quite Griffonian, I’d say. So, you’ve met at least some griffons. Few years ago there was massive infestation of changelings in Germaney and Ponyland, and the griffonian army and koniks were hiring mercenaries to deal with them. Schwalbe wears a necklace made of changelings’ fangs, so it’s not hard to guess that she’s a warrior. I won’t be surprised if you know at least a few words in koniks’ language.”

“Now I understand why Cold Case was so excited, when he told us that you’ll come here,” said Flammenwerfer.

“Yup, and you’re right about koniks,” Falter added, “Zey started to call me something like “pieprznięty szkop”, after I charged a zeppelin stolen by changelings wif a knife. I guess it means “a hero” or somefing.”

“It doesn’t,” Flammenwerfer whispered to Twilight, when his friend was zoned out, thinking about the glory days.

Schwalbe cleared her throat and stared meaningfully at her companions.

“Oh yes,” said Flammenwerfer, “We’ll have to go soon. I’ll bring the equipment.”

Equipment consisted of military saddlebags full of items which function was unknown to Twilight.

“We usually use echolocation in the darkness, but I have a night-vision device for you. Just remember not to stare directly in the source of light while wearing it. We also have clothes for you,” Flammenwerfer shown her a black suit similar to one she was wearing when she went back in time, “Do you want a Kampfmesser?” he took a large knife from the saddlebags. Twilight thought it was designed rather to sever limbs than buttering the bread.

“Are we going to fight someone?” she asked, shocked.

“I don’t fink so, but zere are some situations in ze sewers when ze knife comes in handy – usually ze screws to unscrew, but nasty stuff also happens: rats big like cats, mutant turtles…”

Twilight nodded her head, but didn’t accept the knife. She put the spy suit on and looked at herself in a mirror.

“Now you look less like a rich pony from Canterlot who came here to get robbed,” said Flammenwerfer.

“Yeah… I wonder if it’s a good idea…”

***

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? We have an information that somepony similar to her was seen here.”

“It’s a sewer! I thought you were joking…”

“Don’t worry, now is ze best time to go zere. Ze ponies went to sleep and zere’ll be no high tide till ze morning, if you know what I mean,” Falter laughed.

“I know, but somehow it doesn’t calm me down.”

“Ich hoffe niemand hat heute ein Durchfall…“ Schwalbe muttered before jumping into the drain.

“Your turn, Twilight.”

The unicorn put on the gas mask with night-vision goggles and stepped down the iron ladder.

“Dunkel als Sombras Arsch,” said Schwalbe.

“Yeah, but this won’t stop us,” said Flammenwerfer who just joined them, followed shortly by Falter.

Twilight looked around. In night-vision goggles everything seemed green. The tunnel was quite spacious, with sidewalks on both sides of the putrid stream of water. She could hear the rustling of it and some high-pitched sounds which she identified as squeaks of rats.

“Ok, time for ze magic,” said Falter and suddenly he made a sound. Or at least Twilight thought so by movement of his lips, because she couldn’t hear anything. For a moment his ears were moving, searching for echo of an ultrasound.

“Zere’s somepony about a mile north from us,” he concluded. They started to walk up the tunnel. The bat-ponies were using ultrasonic sounds to find a way in darkness, leaving Twilight to only follow them, stepping carefully on the slippery surface.

They were wandering around the sewers for about twenty minutes, when suddenly Twilight felt a cold wind blowing from her left side. She looked there to see another tunnel. She looked into it to see something moving few yards in front of her. Curious, she went few steps up the tunnel and suddenly a bright flash of green light blinded her. She stepped back, covering her eyes and slipped, falling into the muddy water, which embraced her instantly. She tried to scream only to feel the water filling her gas mask and lungs. A feeling of flying away overcame her.

And then, somepony hit her face.

“Dummkopf!” Schwalbe spat, “Willst du ein Frühstück für die Ratte bekommen?“

“There’s somepony there!” Twilight cried, and coughed up some water. Her gas mask was removed, and the stench was overwhelming. Trying not to breathe, she stood up shakily, and suddenly threw up in front of Schwalbe, whose usual, indifferent expression changed for a moment to a mix of disgust and curiosity, characteristic for the entomologists examining a new species of a really awful larva.

A sounds of fight came from the darkness.

“We got him!” Flammenwerfer shouted. Twilight lit her horn – there was no use in being stealthy anymore – and saw two bat-ponies hovering above the stream of sewage, holding a trashing earth pony stallion. His coat used to be yellow, but now it was covered in something Twilight didn’t want to think about, especially because her stomach was still upset. He was holding a flashlight in his teeth.

“By ze way,” Falter said to their captive, “You have ze right to remain silent, but it’ll be better for you not to use it.”

“May I talk to da good cop?” a yellow pony asked.

“We are the good cops, mein Liebling,” said Flammenwerfer, “But if you want to talk to the bad cop, then we can arrange you a date with Schwalbe.”

The mare in question smiled widely, making sure that the pony sees all her teeth, especially a shiny set of fangs.

“Ya know what? I’ll stay with ya, guys. Whaddya want to know? I heard about those cultist who try to revive Nightma…”

“We don’t care about this,” Twilight said, and levitated the photo of Flitter from her saddlebags, to find out that it was soaked. Fortunately, a mare was still recognizable.

“Have you seen her?”

The yellow pony looked at the photo carefully.

“Yeah, it’s dat doper. She lives in da sewers… Ya know, I’m selling various stuff to ponies… And she was really weird…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She wanted to buy some weapon from me, but had no cash,” he said, glancing nervously at Schwalbe, “And then suddenly she came to me with two thousand bits and bought sawed-off shotgun… the only weapon I had. She also asked for some drugs.”

“Drugs? What drugs?”

“Not those ya think of. Cough syrup, painkillers, eye drops, as if I was a bucking pharmacist. And she asked me for an address of the most expensive Neighponnian restaurant.”

“Aren’t you trying to sell us some horseapples, Mr. Pharmacist?” Flammenwerfer asked, “She ran away from asylum, travelled here only to buy meds and go for a fancy lunch?”

“Let’s throw him in that water…” Falter proposed, but was interrupted by Twilight.

“Pufferfish,” she said.

“What?”

“Tetrodotoxin is one of the ingredients of her mind-controlling potion! She probably stole the pufferfish’s liver from the restaurant’s kitchen, or even from the waste bin. That’s why she needed those medicines, they’re another ingredient.”

“Great…” Falter muttered.

“Hey, guys… now, when you know everything, why don’t ya release me?” their captive asked.

“You’re going to the station with us,” said Flammenwerfer, “Illegal weapon possession, probably drug dealing – you won’t have to worry about a place to live for a long time…”

“Wait! What if I tell you where she lives?”

“Zat’s what I like – cooperation,” Falter smiled. It was only a bit less creepy than Schwalbe’s grin.

***

The yellow sewer dweller guided them to the hole in the wall. On the other side on it was a proper tunnel, with some lamps and without a stream of water of questionable cleanliness in the middle.

“The tube’s unfinished tunnel. No one walks there, except some maintenance workers and, of course, hobos,” said Flammenwerfer after he looked around.

“So, where is she?” Twilight asked.

“Right behind da corner.”

Schwalbe took off and silently flew up the tunnel to see if Flitter was home. She caught the ceiling with the claws on her hind legs, hanging upside-down from it, and gestured them to her.

Even though the tunnel was empty, they approached the turn carefully.

“Seems zat we’re in bedroom,” Falter said, pointing at the dirty blankets lying on the floor, near the wall. He sniffed them.

“Nopony was zere for at least two days,” he commented.

Twilight examined the blankets. She found some empty medicine packages, a small, empty cauldron and primus.

“We should take it, maybe they’re some traces of the potion inside,” she said.

“Do you think she’ll come back here?” Flammenwerfer asked.

“Not really. When she was running away from the hospital, she took a photo of her sister with herself. It’s not here, so she probably abandoned this hideout.”

“Or she’s sentimental and carries this photo with her everywhere.”

“Maybe. But she took the potion, and didn’t go back for two days. I can hardly imagine her walking with the bottle of it for such a long time. She’s probably up to something.”

“Yeah, but what?” Falter asked.

“I don’t know yet. Let’s hope Cold Case and Surveillance found something.”

***

“For the love of Luna, Twilight Sparkle! Where have you been?” Surveillance asked, wincing, and covering his nose with a hoof.

“The sewers. We found a Toolsmith’s hideout in a tunnel. She prepared a new batch of the mind-controlling potion! We have a witness…”

“That yellow stinky guy who looks as if he was a few sandwiches short of a picnic? When your new friends brought him to the cell, other prisoners threatened to sue us for violating the pony’s rights, unless we bathed him. And when I asked where have you been, it was a rhetorical question…”

“Well, anyway, she has a potion, and she’s planning something…”

“Well, that’s rather obvious. Two days ago she mugged our old friend, Vinyl Scratch.”

“She stole two thousand bits?”

“How do you know?” he looked at her, surprised.

“She bought a shotgun and the ingredients from that guy we brought here…” she paused suddenly, and stared in the distance, zoning out.

“Let me guess – you have an idea?” Surveillance deadpanned.

Without a word she left the room and trotted to the cells. Through the bars she asked a yellow pony:

“You called the mare you sold the shotgun to a “doper”. Was it only because she asked you for medicines?”

“Will ya let me out?”

“I can’t. But I can talk to the prosecutor,” Twilight thought for a moment, “And I’m Princess Celestia’s personal protégé, so I can tell her that you were very helpful and…”

“Ok, ok! I saw her once with junkies from that foundation… ya know, they're preparing some kind of show in an old factory…”

Twilight suddenly cursed loudly and galloped away, almost knocking Cold Case down. The trio of bat-ponies hanging out in front of the station followed her.

“Using one’s connections, swearing and not caring about older ponies,” Cold Case said to Surveillance, “That filly spends way too much time with you…”

***

The concert had just finished, and the pavement in front of the old factory was full of excited ponies, talking about DJ P0N3, who just gave probably the best show in her whole career. In the crowd of colourfully dressed music fans no one noticed the three bat-ponies flying above the street, and a purple unicorn running down the pavement.

“Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash! Where are you?”

“Twilight? I’m here… Hey, what the hell are you doing?” the pegasus in question snapped, when suddenly a dark silhouette appeared in front of her and started to talk excitedly in some foreign language.

“Don’t worry, Rainbow, she’s with me,” said Twilight, whose jaw almost hit the pavement when she saw excited Schwalbe jumping around her friend. The unicorn thought that she looked like a vulture who just found a really big carcass.

“What? Since when you have friends who are metalheads?”

“Don’t worry, RD, she’s your fan,” Falter, who also landed near them, laughed.

“F-fan?” Dash’s jaw dropped. When she had become a Wonderbolt, she had gained many fans. Some were normal, some, like the guy who proposed to her in a letter written in his own blood, were creepy, but probably nopony of them was stranger than a black mare with bat wings and a necklace made of changelings’ fangs.

“Yup. She even has your photo in her bedroom,” said Falter.

“Kannst du mir ein Autogramm schicken?“ Schwalbe asked.

“Umm… what did she say?” Rainbow Dash whispered to Falter, seeing that Twilight was looking around, clearly anxious.

“She wants an autograph,” he said. Rainbow Dash nodded, and, dictated by him, wrote “Für Schwalbe – Equestrias beste Fliegerin” on a piece of paper and gave it to the mare.

“Dash, did something strange happened during the concert?” Twilight asked, “And where’s Scootaloo?”

“Nothing, at least till you came here with those guys,” she said, pointing at the three batponies (Flammenwerfer just landed near them, saying that he hadn’t seen Flitter anywhere in the crowd), “And Scoots went to the little filly’s room…” a sudden realisation struck her, “…fifteen minutes ago?”

“Sie macht die Nummer zwei,” Schwalbe said, looking at the Rainbow Dash’s autograph in awe, which, according to Twilight, looked even creepier than her smile.

“Schwalbe, that was disgusting,” Flammenwerfer groaned.

“We need to check on her,” said Twilight and headed to the building.

“Why? Something happened?” Rainbow Dash asked, following her.

“I hope not.”

“Sorry, no entry,” said the small, green stallion with an orange mane. He was wearing an awful pink and yellow outfit, which in conjunction with his own colours could cause anypony with epilepsy to have a seizure.

“We’re looking for our friend, Mr Freebass,” said Rainbow Dash, reading his name from an EADF badge on his costume, “A sixteen years old pegasus filly, orange with purple hair. Her name is Scootaloo.”

Freebass thought for a moment.

“Oh yeah, this one. She slipped on the wet floor and injured her head. Don’t worry, she’s alright,” he added, seeing their expressions, “Vinyl herself offered to help her, and called for the ambulance…”

This, however, didn’t calm Twilight down. She entered the building and trotted towards the stage.

“Has Vinyl been acting strange lately?” she asked Freebass.

“Not stranger than usual.”

Rainbow Dash was first to storm the backstage’s door.

“There’s nopony here!” she said.

Suddenly they heard the sound of cart’s wheel rolling on the concrete.

“Is there a backdoor here?” Twilight asked.

“Yes, it leads to the cart park. Now there's probably somepony transporting the equipment there.”

***

It was a strange feeling for Vinyl. A mare’s voice in her head told her to make it the best show in her life – and she did. It also told her to use her magic to make a certain filly trip and fall. She then told Freebass that she’d wait with the young pegasus for the doctors.

Then she arrived. A pegasus mare, wearing an EADF volunteer’s outfit. It was strange to hear her voice twice – in reality and in her own head. She helped her to put an unconscious filly on the cart with speakers, before any of the stallions pulling it noticed. Then the mare rode away, still maintaining contact with Vinyl.

Now, get on the roof.

There was an old, rusty ladder attached to the wall. She began to climb.

You cannot attack Twilight Sparkle. No offence, but you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, she’d defeat you in ten seconds flat. Besides, I have something special for her…

Twilight Sparkle. Vinyl saw her from the roof, standing on the backyard with Freebass, Rainbow Dash, and three other ponies she didn’t know.

She heard Twilight Sparkle calling her name.

Answer her.

“I’m here, Twilight.”

“Vinyl, what are you doing there? And where’s Scootaloo?”

Vinyl saw three strange pegasi taking off to chase the cart.

Don’t worry, they won’t catch me. Also, you should also run away. Fly away, princess.

“Vinyl, what are you doing?” Freebass asked.

Vinyl jumped to take off into the air. For a brief moment she thought that she managed to evade the pursuit.

Oh, cannot fly, princess? Don’t worry, falling is almost like flying. Except maybe more permanent destination…

Author's Note

The gratuituous German/Polish in this chapter are mostly swears and toilet humour, but if you're interested, feel free to ask.
Edit: changed the name of one of the bat ponies to Falter (moth), because, as my proofreader pointed out, it makes more sense with his cutie mark.

Jump in the Fire

It was a nice morning in Ponyville. In the kitchen of one of the large, detached houses in the outskirts, a grey earth pony mare wearing a “wub the cook” apron was preparing a breakfast. Humming a cheerful tune along with the radio, she sat at the table with her tea.

A song ended, and she heard the pips marking the full hour – 7 AM, to be precise. She cranked the radio up to listen to the news.

Suddenly, a teacup fell from her hoof and smashed itself on the floor.

***

It was a nice morning in Detrot. The hospital room was completely silent, except of silent beeps of heart monitor, and the similar signal coming from the radio standing on a windowsill.

Rainbow Dash opened one eye, and looked to her right. A white unicorn, covered in bandages, was lying on a neighbouring bed, breathing calmly.

“Bucking DJ…” she muttered under her breath. She tried to adjust herself only to feel a sharp pain coming from her chest, “Bucking gravitational acceleration… Bucking radio…”

Ironically, most of the news were about the events of yesterday.

“Kannst du die Fresse halten? Ich versuche schlafen,“ she heard a grumpy voice from her right.

“Fan, huh? A bit hard to sleep on a bed, like most of the ponies?”

“Fick dich,” Schwalbe turned away from her.

It’s gonna be a long day… Rainbow Dash thought.

***

“Dash! Are you ok?” she heard a panicked Twilight’s voice.

“Bucking DJ… If I had known she was so heavy, I’d never try to catch her…” she almost passed out from the pain when she stood up, but with a great effort, she managed to sit down. Twilight sighed with relief.

“Well, technically it was the gravitational acceleration, which caused…”

“I DON’T GIVE A BUCK!” Dash yelled, “We gotta save Scootaloo!”

“Don’t worry, the bat-ponies are chasing that cart, and you should wait for an ambulance.”

“I’m fine! Three years ago they removed a bucking arrow from my lung, a few cracked ribs can’t stop me!” suddenly she collapsed on the pavement.

“Ok, I’m not fine,” she muttered, “And don’t tell me that it was a bolt and not an arrow, ok?”

Twilight nodded, and turned to Freebass, who was holding Vinyl in his hooves.

“How’s she?”

“Good thing your friend slowed her down,” his voice was a bit shaky, but quite coherent, considering the fact that five minutes ago he had a panic attack and Twilight had to conjure a paper bag to keep him from hyperventilating, “She hit the ground quite hard anyway, but she doesn’t seem to be dying…”

“Where… am I?” Vinyl asked, half-opening her eyes.

“Shh, it’s ok,” Freebass said, “Don’t move, we’re not sure about your spine.”

Vinyl muttered something and fell unconscious again.

***

Stopping the cart was a piece of cake. The stallions, unaware of their passengers, weren’t in a hurry, and when Flammenwerfer appeared in front of them, they quickly pulled to the roadside.

However, there was nopony in the cart, and the only trace was an orange feather, lying on the floor.

“Have you stopped anywhere?” Flammenwerfer asked.

“Well, there was a red light, two blocks before you caught up with us. There’s an abandoned brickyard there,” said one of the stallions. Flammenwerfer cursed under his breath, and, with his companions, took off to fly to the brickyard.

The building was dark, but it didn’t make any difference to them. Falter was the first to see the traces in the dust covering the wooden floor.

“Somepony dragged summfin’ heavy here,” he said. He and Flammenwerfer followed the trace through the empty production hall, to an old office on the first floor, while Schwalbe took her knife from its sheath, put it between her teeth and flew to the office’s window.

“Flitter, we know that you’re here!” Flammenwerfer shouted, “Leave Scootaloo and come out with your hooves visible!”
“Not so fast, honey,” she laughed, “You’ll leave me alone, or I’ll shoot this kid!”

Flammenwerfer and Falter stood in the office’s door. They saw Flitter standing in the middle of the room, pointing the sawed-off shotgun at Scootaloo, who was resting against a metal locker, trussed with a duct tape. She regained consciousness, and was looking around panicked, with tears in her eyes.

“Hello boys,” Flitter said coldly, “Get outta here, or I’ll shoot her. You’ve seen Cloud Counter and you know how messy it looks to have a load of buckshot suddenly fly through your skull.”

“Put the weapon down. You’re surrounded, you can’t escape!”

“Don’t worry, I have some more cartridges for you…” she smiled and raised the shotgun.

Suddenly, the office was filled with the sound of shattering glass. Flitter quickly turned to the window, only to be tackled by another dark pony. Flammenwerfer and Falter darted forward to disarm the deranged pegasus.

A shotgun fired, filling the room with the stench of cordite. Scootaloo rolled on the floor to hide behind a locker.

“Scheisse!” Schwalbe yelled, dropping her knife, and jumped away, holding her hind leg. Suddenly everything calmed down. Falter was pinning Flitter to the ground. She was still smiling, despite a fresh cut on her face, vertically to the old scar. Her shotgun was lying safely in the corner of the room. Flammenwerfer took Schwalbe’s knife and cut the duct tape on Scootaloo’s legs and wings.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” she panted, and suddenly hugged him, sobbing like a little filly.

Schwalbe, who was using a duct tape to make a provisional tourniquet, said something angrily, staring at the gun and Flitter.

“ Schwalbe, I like your imagination, but zis would require a lot of cleaning and paperwork,” Falter said.

“I’ll call Royal Guards and paramedics,” said Flammenwerfer, still comforting Scootaloo.

***

“Nurse? Nurse! Is there anybody in this hospital who isn’t unconscious or speak the language other than one in which every word sounds like an order given to a firing squad?” Rainbow Dash yelled. On her right Schwalbe put a cushion on her head, muttering something about being a nocturnal creature.

The nurse, an old and unlikeable mare appeared in the door.

“What’s up?” she grunted.

“I want to leave this place! I’m healthy, and I want to visit my sister!”

The nurse looked into her card.

“Well, I might not be a doctor, but “four broken ribs, fractured cannon bone and possible concussion” doesn’t seem “healthy” to me,” she said.

“But I really feel good!”

“Yeah, everypony with concussion feels good, and then the morphine wears off, or they have an internal hemorrhage,” the nurse deadpanned.

“Could you at least turn the radio off? Thank you,” said Rainbow Dash, and the nurse did so.

“You’re welcome. And no, ‘having a dozen of pellets surgically removed from the thigh’ isn’t ‘healthy’ either!” she scolded Schwalbe, who wanted to say something.

“Alte Hexe…” the bat-mare muttered, when the nurse left the room.

“How’s your leg?” Rainbow Dash asked. Although her Germane consisted mainly of swears learned from Gilda, she hoped for some conversation just to break the ice.

“Als der Doktor hat gesagt: “gefickt”,” fortunately, Schwalbe’s answer was understandable for her. Rainbow Dash smirked.

***

“I hope Dash isn’t bored to death,” Twilight said to Surveillance.

They were walking down the hospital corridor, guided by the doctor. The guard was smiling – soon he was going to bring the Toolsmith back to Ponyville to seal her in new, better guarded cell – this time, hopefully, forever.

“With the DJ and that uncivilized mare? They either killed one another, or…”

“And then she said “No Sweetie, these toys are not for the little fillies!”,” they heard Rainbow Dash’s laugh, followed by a strange high-pitched sound that could be only a bat-mare’s laughter.

“Seriously, it’s scary sometimes, what Derpy has to deliver to other ponies… Oh, hi Twilight,” the pegasus said.

“Hi, Dash! I’m glad to see you in good shape.”

“Yeah…” Dash’s tone suddenly became more serious, “How’s Scootaloo?”

“Much better too. She’s also here, talking with the psychologist, but I’ll bring her here soon. We’re going back to Ponyville today.”

“Too bad I can’t go with you. This guy,” she pointed at the doctor, who was reading something on Vinyl’s card, “Listed all the bad things that can happen to me if I get up now, so I guess I’ll have to stay here for a few days.”

“By the way, I have to congratulate your new friend, who helped us catch Toolsmith,” said Surveillance, turning to Schwalbe.
Suddenly, upon hearing his voice, Vinyl opened her eyes. For a moment she was looking around, but then she focused her gaze on him and said:

“There was no need to turn me into stone, officer, that was a medicine!”

“Vinyl, it seems that you were stoned…” Rainbow Dash deadpanned, causing Twilight and Surveillance to facehoof.

“You weren’t turned into stone, your lower half is covered in gypsum plaster,” Doctor explained, “Can you feel your hind legs?”

Vinyl thought for a moment.

“Now when you said it I can feel them itch. And I can’t scratch them…”

“Good. This means your spinal cord wasn’t severed,” he sighed with relief.

“Great…” she murmured, focused on trying to scratch her legs.

“Oh, by the way, somepony called Octavia Melody called the hospital. She’s coming to meet you.”

“Twilight, I think we should leave,” said Surveillance, “We have to take Flitter to Ponyville.”

***

Although the captain of the Ponyville Royal Guards was in hurry, Twilight hadn’t left Detrot Hospital with him. She found Scootaloo and brought her to meet Rainbow Dash. The orange filly was a bit glum, but she cheered up when she saw her idol alive and in relatively good condition. She spent several hours talking with her and Vinyl, till Twilight had to remind her that their airship was departing soon, and her parents are probably worried about her.

Surveillance met them at the airport. It was easy to find him, he was walking through the main hall escorting Flitter with Cold Case, Flammenwerfer, Falter and some other guards. They were surrounded by the reporters. The wicked mare tilted her head down, smirking at the cameras.

“We won’t sit next to her, will we?” Scootaloo asked.

“No, I told Surveillance that we want to sit somewhere else. She was caught and I’m no longer involved in this case.”

They sneaked past the reporters and joined the other passengers of an airship. Some of them were worried about the serial killer travelling with them, but others, especially the younger ones were blabbering excitedly while taking their seats.

“Your parents are not here?” Twilight asked.

“No, dad’s in Fillydelphia and mom is now coming back from Vanhoover. She’ll meet us in Ponyville, I think,” Scootaloo replied, her tone blank and indifferent. Twilight noticed that.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just… tired,” filly said and yawned. Twilight noticed that she was also exhausted: since she visited the Detrot sewers with bat-ponies, she had hardly slept. Four hours of nodding off on a bench in the hospital didn’t count. She sat on her seat and a few minutes later she was in a deep slumber.

When she woke up, she noticed that Scootaloo’s seat was empty. She looked around, but the young pegasus was nowhere to be seen. She saw Surveillance in the back of the cabin. Flitter was sleeping next to him, and if she hadn’t been hoofcuffed to her seat, nopony would recognize her as a serial killer.

“Excuse me, have you seen my companion?” Twilight asked a yellow earth pony mare with green hair, sitting behind her. She had a feeling that she saw her before.

“Oh yes,” her accent was very similar to Applejack’s, “She went to…”

“FIRE!” somepony in the back of the airship yelled. They looked back only to see a black cloud of smoke. Some more cries pierced the silence, many ponies stood up from their seats, trying, in panic, to run away from danger.

“Stay calm,” a pilot’s voice was heard from the speakers, “We’re going to evacuate the ship. Those who can fly or teleport, help those who can’t.”

Soon the four pegasi propelling the airship forward darted into the cabin, and, with other pegasi on deck, started to help passengers get out of the burning vehicle.

“SCOOTALOO! Where are you?” Twilight shouted, but it was soon interrupted by a fit of coughing. Behind her, a yellow mare was crying.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” said the unicorn, “What’s your name?”

“Apple Fritter,” the mare sobbed.

“Catch my hoof, Apple Fritter, I’ll teleport us outta here!”

The mare only nodded and grabbed her foreleg. Twilight saw a unicorn colt running near them and caught him too – so far she had tried to teleport with two ponies at once only twice, but she had no choice. The fire engulfed a large part of the airship, and the balloon could explode in any moment. Twilight closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, focusing on the spell.
Suddenly, she felt a wave of fresh air around her. When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was in the forest below the burning airship. She felt dizzy, the view was distorted, and everything seemed to have a shade of red. The last thing she heard was a loud explosion, and then the darkness embraced her and all her thoughts drifted away.

***

She woke up a minute later, and saw Apple Fritter’s face above her. In the glow of fire from the burning remnants of the airship she could see the mare looking at her with a worried expression.

“We made it,” was only thing Twilight managed to say. She heard muffled voices of other ponies calling each other. An older mare who was just saved by one of the pilots, was crying loudly.

“Yeah,” Apple Fritter said, giving her a napkin, “Don’t move, ya don’t look well – ya have a nosebleed and yer eyes are red.”

“Broken veins in eyes and nose, side effects of the teleportation,” Twilight panted and wiped her face, “My hearing isn’t good either.”

“My babies! Where are they?” somepony on Twilight’s left cried.

“I got them,” even though her hearing was impaired, and the voice was strangely emotionless, she recognized it instantly.
“Scootaloo!”, she turned abruptly, and hissed from pain and dizziness. An orange pegasus, her fur covered in ash, landed on the clearing, with two small foals on her back. Their mother ran to her, took them from her and started to thank her loudly, much to filly’s bewilderment.

“Is everypony here?” one of the pegasi asked, looking at the survivors gathered on a clearing. Some ponies were still calling each other.

“Where’s that Royal Guard escorting the prisoner?” Apple Fritter asked.

“Surveillance?” Twilight just realised that she hadn’t heard any snarky comment regarding the disaster yet. She tried to get up, only to be calmed down by Apple Fritter and Scootaloo.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, “Where’s Flitter?”

Suddenly the voices of the passengers silenced, when a terrible realisation fell upon them.

“She can be somewhere here!” a mare whose foals were saved by Scootaloo shouted.

“She was cuffed to her seat…” one of the pilots said calmly, “She’s probably frying in Tartarus already.”

“What if she caused the fire to free herself?” a colt who was teleported with Apple Fritter by Twilight asked.

“Red’s missing!” the other pilot exclaimed.

“She got him!”

“I don’t think so,” said the third pilot grimly, “He was trying to save somepony when the airship exploded.”

He took off his aviator hat and threw it on the ground.

Author's Note

Yay, two updates in three days!
And, for those who already read the previous chapter and are confused: Schmetterling's name was changed to Falter after my proofreader's suggestion that "moth" fits his cutie mark better than "butterfly".

Broken, Beat and Scarred

The fireponies from the closest town (Twilight wasn’t sure, but she thought it was Baltimare) arrived after thirty minutes, alarmed by the glow. The wounded survivors were transported to the hospital, while the rest of them stayed in a hotel. One of the pilots and four passengers (including Flitter and Surveillance) were missing.

Twilight was tossing and turning on her bed. The doctor had examined her and sent her to the cheap hotel on the skid road, giving her painkillers and telling her not to overexert herself for a couple of days. Too bad, Baltimare fireponies took her proposal to help them searching the crash site as opposing the doctor’s orders.

Next to her, Scootaloo was sleeping calmly in her bed. Listening to her steady breath, Twilight was staring through the window, searching for the familiar silhouette of Flitter, sneaking through the dark street.

“She’s dead,” she said to herself, “No one could survive that…” Still it couldn’t calm her down. Despite the painkillers, her head and eyes still hurt. Finally, she got out of bed and went to the corridor. She trotted to bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

The unicorn on the other side of the shiny glass only barely resembled her. She thought that with bags under her bloodshot eyes and unkempt mane, only lack of scars and wings differed her from Flitter.

“Hello, Twilight…”

Feeling all her muscles tense, she quickly spun around, aiming her horn at the pony behind her, who jumped back, slipping on the tiles and falling down.

“Apple Fritter?” she asked, sighing with relief, seeing the familiar mare cowering on the floor with tears in her eyes.

“A-Ah’m s-sorry, Ah sh-shouldn’t sneak up on you like that…” Apple Fritter stammered.

“No, I’m sorry,” Twilight said, helping her to get up, “You know since she ran away, I’m a bag of nerves… It… it’s like three years ago again, and now this disaster…”

“Ah… Ah can’t sleep,” Apple Fritter suddenly interrupted her, sobbing openly, “Ah still see the fire and explosion and… Ah was just going to visit my family in Ponyville!”

Twilight didn’t know what to say, instead cursing her lack of social skills. She patted Apple Fritter’s head, uttering some platitudes ponies usually were saying in such situations.

“Ah think Ah’m gonna go back to my room,” the mare said shakily.

“How about some tea?” Twilight asked. She didn’t really want to go back to bed and lie there, sleepless, till morning, “I think there’s a café downstairs.”

“No, thanks,” Apple Fritter replied, and quickly left the bathroom. Twilight, however, decided to go downstairs.

The café, which looked like a typical harbour for the travellers and other souls lost in the city, was almost empty at that time of night, except of a blue unicorn, trying to wake herself up with a large cup of coffee.

“Hello, Trixie,” said Twilight, recognizing the guest immediately. Trixie, who looked a bit tipsy, looked at her (or rather in her general direction), and said:

“Trixie is sorry.”

Why is everypony apologizing to me tonight? Twilight shook her head mentally, looking at the miserable-looking unicorn. Am I the one who caused this?

“Really, Trixie, you don’t need to apologize,” she said, “I have no grudge against you. Let bygones be bygones.”

Trixie didn’t reply, instead she rested her head on a table, pouring the coffee all over herself.

Just great… I can’t leave her like that, Twilight thought. She felt another twinge of pain in the back of her head when she used her magic to levitate Trixie from her chair. Fortunately, she woke up, and, supported by Twilight, was able to walk to her room.

“Have you got the key?” the lavender mare asked.

“Trixie has it here,” the blue unicorn levitated the keys unsteadily, trying to fit it into the lock.

“Give me that,” Twilight said. She took the key and opened the door. The room was even messier than the bat-ponies’ flat in Detrot, but Trixie didn’t care – she went through it and, with a squeal of the mattress’ springs lay on her bed.

“Can I help you somehow?” Twilight asked.

“No. Tri… I have to think,” Trixie said.

“Oh… ok. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Twilight,” Trixie turned her head to her, “And thank you.”

“Well, that was awkward,” Twilight said, when the door closed behind her. She suddenly felt very sleepy, using even basic magic like levitation after teleporting from the burning airship exhausted her. She decided to go back to her room, which was two floors above the place where Trixie lived. She couldn’t teleport, so she used the lift, hoping that it wouldn’t jam.
The first thing she noticed after entering the room was that Scootaloo was still sleeping in the same position she’d left her. Her encounters with Apple Fritter and Trixie almost made her stop worrying about the brave little pegasus’ safety, but still hearing her regular breath lifted a large weight from her heart. Calmed down, she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

***

She was woken up by her phone. Still half-asleep, she levitated it to her ear.

“Ms Sparkle?” a stranger’s voice asked, “My name’s Mayday, I’m from Equestrian Transportation Safety Board. We want you to identify a body we’ve found on the airship’s crash site.”

Suddenly she was completely awake, her brain working at the highest gear.

“Is… is that a pegasus?” she asked.

“Well, the body is partially burned, but I’m afraid it’s an unicorn stallion. We found no pegasi so far,” said Mayday. Twilight told her that she’ll meet her at ten o’clock and hung the phone up.

“Hi, Twilight,” said Scootaloo, entering the room with a wet mane, wearing a cyan towel with Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark on it like a shabrack, “Watch out, there’s a problem with hot water in the shower.”

“They found Surveillance’s body,” said Twilight flatly. Scootaloo stood frozen in the middle of the room.

“H-how about…” she muttered.

“They’re still looking for her.”

The pegasus, still wrapped in a towel, sat on her bed with a shocked expression.

“What will we do now?” she asked.

“I have to identify Surveillance’s body. I hope that they’ll let me help them look for Flitter. And you’ll go back to Ponyville. Your father called me yesterday evening, he’ll come for you.”

The filly only nodded, which surprised Twilight a bit. She expected Scootaloo to protest and offer her help in searching through the debris of the airship and the forest. That’s what younger, Rainbow Dash-idolizing Scootaloo would do, she thought, but she’s no longer an innocent Cutie Mark Crusader.

“I-I’m afraid,” Scootaloo said, “It’s not even about the foalnapping, but… three years ago…”

Twilight knew that a young pegasus had no memories about the night she had killed Rainstorm, the first victim of the killer known later as the Toolsmith. Unlike Vinyl, she had neither nightmares nor flashbacks about this, but the faint thought of this event was always present in her psyche, even though she didn’t usually show that.

“It’s ok, Scootaloo,” she said, sitting next to the pegasus, “Rainbow Dash and I will not let her hurt you again. Even if she’s alive, she’s probably wounded and still hides in a forest, so she’ll be caught soon.”

Scootaloo nodded, and hugged Twilight tightly, taking her off-guard. She wept in her arm for few minutes – an appropriate requiem for the fallen Royal Guards’ captain, as Twilight thought – before she sat in the previous position again, and wiped tears off her face with a towel.

“I’ll shower, and then I have to go and meet that pony from ETSB,” unicorn said, “Then I’ll take you to the airport, ok?”
“Ok,” Scootaloo replied, curling in foetal position on a bed.

“I’ll be back soon.”

***

When Twilight left the shower (the water was constantly switching between hot and cold, as Scootaloo said) and was heading back to the room, she noticed that the door to one of the rooms, the one belonging to Apple Fritter, was open. At first she didn’t know why it made her anxious, but then she remembered that it was also open when she came back to her room after helping Trixie.

She pushed the door and entered the room. Unlike hers, this one was a single-room, with a similar set of the old, cheap furniture. The curtains were closed and the empty bed was neatly made. Something, however, didn’t fit. Twilight sniffed the air, sensing a ferruginous, organic smell.

“No…” she whispered, and threw herself onto the bed. She looked behind it and saw Apple Fritter.

She was lying on her back, green hair sticky from the blood from the large, gaping wound in her throat, so deep that the vertebrae were visible. Her face was frozen in a twisted expression of fright, eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Her front hooves were covered in small cuts, she also had a penetrating wound in her abdomen. Twilight, feeling the wave of nausea, looked at the small, white object lying in the pool of clotted blood near the body. She levitated it to her. It was a piece of paper with a hotel’s logo on the top, and eight words written on it in a frantic, yet familiar-looking hoofwriting:

One by one. You will be the last.

Author's Note

Trivia: when I was writing this chapter I had a small conversation with myself:
"Hmm, what should I do to move the action forward?"
"Remember that cute mare Twilight saved from the fire? Kill her."
"How dare you suggesting such a thing, bastard? Wait... this might actually work..."
Still I felt bad for Apple Fritter, so after writing the chapter I started to search dA for some cute pictures and accidentally found this one.

And now I've looking for some dark picture of Flitter. There are none (anyone can help?), but I found this and I feel a bit awkward...

To Live is To Die

Vinyl Scratch felt chills down her immobilised spine, when she looked into the eyes of the mare in front of her, who was grinning at her maniacally, clearly waiting for her to say something.

“So,” she said flatly, “I’m bucked, huh?”

“If I understood the rules correctly, you have to take five cards unless you have a King of Hearts,” Rainbow Dash explained, looking at the King of Spades Schwalbe put on the table.

“Crap,” Vinyl cursed, and levitated five cards from the deck. Schwalbe nodded with approval, and turned her gaze back to her cards.

“I really liked poker more,” said the DJ.

“Me too, unless I lost all my bits,” Dash deadpanned.

“Hey, it’s not my fault! How about scrabble? We can always steal scrabble from kid’s ward.”

“Vinyl, you can’t even move, Schwalbe and I can barely walk, besides, you can’t go to the paediatrics’ ward to steal scrabble!”

“Warum nicht?” Schwalbe asked. Rainbow Dash gave her a nasty look, only to remember that maintaining eye contact with bat-mare without feeling uneasy was impossible. She focused on Vinyl again.

“And also, I don’t want to spent the rest of the day explaining Schwalbe that “Panzerkampfwagen” is not a word.”

“Hey, das ist ein Wort!”

Suddenly, Dash’s phone, lying on the nightstand, started to ring. She picked it up.

“Dash?” she heard Twilight’s scared voice, “Are you ok?”

“Well, no better than yesterday, but also not worse. At least I don’t pee in a bag,” she looked at Vinyl, “Why are you asking?”

“Haven’t you heard? Our airship crashed!” her voice cracked, and Rainbow Dash fell her throat dry.

“D-did Scootaloo…”

“No, she’s fine, her father took her to Ponyville.”

“How about the others?”

“Surveillance is dead, I was almost arrested, and Flitter…”

“WHAT?”

***

“So, Ms Sparkle, you’re telling us that a serial killer who might have survived the airship disaster sneaked into the hotel at night just to kill somepony and leave a message?” the Royal Guards officer watched her, his eyes half-closed.

“Well, I…”

“Not to mention the fact that you were the last pony who saw Apple Fritter alive…”

“I met her accidentally in a bathroom, then she went to her room and I went downstairs to the café, that’s all.”

“But still, it’s interesting that the last pony who talked to her was also the pony who found her body,” he put his hooves on a table.

“I SAVED HER FROM THE BURNING AIRSHIP, SHE WAS MY FRIEND’S COUSIN, WHY WOULD I WANT TO KILL HER?” Twilight shouted, standing up.

“I’ve heard it was an arson… Well, I’ve also heard lots of things about you,” he smiled, “PTSD, previous fits of rage, for Luna’s sake, you had caused a pony to be in a coma for a year! She did something, you snapped…”

“I…”

Someone knocked the door.

“Excuse me, sir,” another Royal Guard entered the interrogation room, “Some lunatic mare came here, claiming that Twilight Sparkle has alibi.”

“A friend from the nuthouse?”

“Back off, The Great and Powerful Trixie is here!” the blue unicorn stormed the door. She was apparently sober, though she smelled of booze, and her fur was covered in coffee stains. Twilight slammed her hoof against her forehead. The Royal Guards’ officer looked unimpressed.

“Do you know her, Ms Sparkle?” he asked.

“Yes, her name is Trixie Lulamoon, she’s a travelling magician.”

“Exactly! Trixie’s career was a bit down recently, and Trixie was really depressed, other ponies wanted Trixie to enrol to sect, Trixie was drinking and then, last night, Twilight Sparkle came and helped Trixie go back to the room.”

I’m so bucked…

“Ms Lulamoon… do you have any proof?”

“The keys to Trixie’s room! Twilight opened the door with them and there’s a trace of her magic on them,” said Trixie.

“How can we know if she hadn’t levitated them before? Or even today?”

“The café owner can confirm that,” said Twilight, “She surely saw us last night.”

“Yeah… I guess your friend is really hard to forget…”

***

Ten minutes later Twilight was standing with Trixie and Scootaloo (who came to the station with the blue unicorn) outside the Baltimare Royal Guards station. The magician was breathing heavily, as if the conversation with the police had exhausted her.

“Thank you, Trixie,” Twilight said.

“Don’t need to thank me,” Trixie replied, “I just thought about some stuff…”

“I’m worried about you. Flitter wrote that she’ll kill everypony I met one by one,” Twilight said, staring at the pavement, “What if she’ll get you?”

“Trixie knows how to defend herself,” the magician tried to say boastfully, but her voice cracked by the end of the sentence. She turned back and made few steps.

“What are you planning to do now?” Twilight asked. Few years ago she’d never thought that she’d feel better having Trixie around. Unicorn looked at her.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll learn some magic, get myself together, find a job… You know, the normal, sappy stuff.”

Then she walked away.

“Take care, Trixie. And thank you again,” said Twilight.

“She’s a bit weird, isn’t she?” Scootaloo whispered.

“I don’t know. It’s always hard for a pony to change,” Twilight explained, “When I was at your age I thought that I didn’t need friends.”

“Yeah… And I almost got used to being an earth pony with additional limbs,” Scootaloo stretched her wings.

They trotted down the street, heading to the airport. The distance between Baltimare and Ponyville wasn’t very big, so instead of an airship, Scootaloo got into the ordinary flying chariot. It calmed Twilight down – this time there was no hydrogen to blow everything up. Also, Vindaloo was one of the pilots – Scootaloo said that he asked his colleague to swap the flights with him, just to meet her in Baltimare.

“You won’t be flying with us, Twilight?” the filly asked.

“No, I’m going to find Flitter here, before she gets to Ponyville.”

***

“Nice,” said Rainbow Dash, “So, have you found something?”

“Well, I went to the crash site…”

***

Mayday was a middle-aged red pegasus with yellow mane and a magnifying glass as a cutie mark. Twilight quickly apologized to her for being late and looked at the photo of the unknown unicorn’s body.

“It’s definitely Surveillance. Where did you find him?”

“Here, near the remnants of the airship,” Mayday pointed, “It’s strange, the other bodies we found were practically burned skeletons, and this one was only slightly charred.”

“So what exactly happened to him?”

“Most of the bones were broken, so our hypothesis is that he jumped off the aircraft.”

“Why would he do that?”

“We’re not sure. We hoped that you’d explain that to us, since you were working with him.”

“Well…” Twilight looked at the pile of charred beams that used to be parts of the airship, and noticed something shiny.
“It’s a pair of hoofcuffs,” she said, examining them closer.

“We already photographed them, but we weren’t moving anything so far, except the bodies,” Mayday explained, “The hoofcuffs were opened, we thought that this… Surveillance did it to evacuate himself and his prisoner.”

“Maybe. But where’s she?”

“Well, one of the skeletons we found belongs to a pegasus, but it’s probably a pilot – there were the remains of the goggles and aviator hat near it. We also found this,” she shown her a photo of partially melted silver lighter, with barely visible letter “V” on it.

Twilight nodded her head, staring at the place where Surveillance’s body was found. Suddenly, something clicked in her brain.

“You said, you haven’t moved anything from here?”

“Yes, why are you asking?”

“There’s a trace on the ground, as if somepony was dragging something heavy here.”

Mayday followed her gaze. The trace on the ground led into the forest, marked by squashed understory and occasional dark stains. Twilight rushed forward. The forest was dark and moist – it started to rain the day before, shielding it from the fire from the aircraft. Soon they found some other parts of the vehicle scattered between the trees.

“Do you think she’s hiding somewhere here?” Mayday asked.

“No, the trail continues,” Twilight replied, looking at the layer of last-year leaves, which were moved recently. They followed it, jumping over the small gorge with a creek on the bottom.

“There’s nothing here…”

“Twilight! Look!” Mayday exclaimed, pointing at the bottom of the gorge.

“Well, now I don’t understand…” said Twilight, staring at the creek.

***

“FIRE!” somepony near them yelled. A black cloud of smoke engulfed them, and Flitter started to cough. Some more cries pierced the silence, many ponies stood up from their seats, trying, in panic, to run away from danger. Surveillance, however, remained calm.

“Hey, Mr Perfect, you won’t leave me here like this, huh?” Flitter asked him, pointing at the hoofcuffs.

“If it was up to me, you’d be long dead,” he replied, “I’d have pulled the plug on you three years ago.”

Tears run down her face, only partially being the effect of the smoke.

“And don’t tell me any bullshit about redemption, since you ran away, you killed two ponies, foalnapped a filly and made this idiot in fancy shades jump off the building.”

“Hey! If you let me here to fry, they’ll be lots of paperwork…” she tried.

“Frankly, I don’t give a fuck,” he said, standing up and looking for Twilight Sparkle. Unfortunately, there was no trace of a lavender unicorn.

“Problem?” Flitter asked.

“None of your business.”

“I can help you. Disabled or not, I’m still a pegasus…”

Surveillance cursed under his breath. He sighed, levitated the keys and opened Flitter’s cuffs.

She jumped out of her seat, tackling him and ran to the emergency exit. He recovered and chased after her.

“You…” he shouted. Just before she reached the exit, he caught her. She thrashed and kicked, but Surveillance had her pinned to the ground. After a short fight they rolled over the edge of the deck.

Flitter felt a jolt of pain when she was trying to spread her wings. Surveillance was holding her, despite her desperate attempts to beat him. Suddenly they heard a loud explosion and the airship disintegrated in an orange fireball.

She woke up on something soft. Around her flames were roaring, but she couldn’t hear anything. She felt something warm dripping from her ears and realised that her eardrums were shattered. She was lying on her left side, feeling the pain from her left wing – it was now looking even worse than her right wing, with some fragments of broken bone penetrating the skin. She rolled off the thing she landed on, and looked at it.

She smiled at the irony of the situation: Surveillance, so reluctant to free her, accidentally saved her life, when she landed on him, crushing his bones and killing him. She tried to get up only to find out that she was out of luck: her hind legs remained limp and lifeless.

Too bad Vinyl Scratch can’t see me now, she thought, She’d probably babble about poetic justice… if she even knows that word…

She gritted her teeth, trying to crawl away from the crash site. Intense pain from her wings almost rendered her unconscious again. Despite that, she continued to crawl, leaving a trail of blood and urine – with a severed spinal cord she lost the control of her bladder – and, after a painful effort, she managed to hide between the bushes, where she spent several minutes, panting and coughing.

It was almost dawn, when she reached an obstacle she couldn’t pass – a small gorge, about a yard wide. Her front hooves gave up and she fell, face first on the ground. Her throat was dry, her whole body was aching. The paralysed part of her body was dirty and grazed, almost skinless from dragging it. She crawled to the edge of the gorge and rolled on the bottom, splashing into the creek.

Cold water alleviated the pain, Flitter began to drink it, feeling a coppery taste in her mouth, as her blood mixed with it. She looked up, her vision growing darker, despite the Celestia’s sun rising. Her breathing was shallow and jerky, she could feel the numbness slowly spreading from the paralysed part of her body.

The Celestia’s sun emerged from behind the trees, but she wasn’t able to see it, instead seeing the random scenes from her life: her childhood in Cloudsdale; her first flight; her cute-ceañera, when Cloudchaser accidentally ripped her dress; school days with Krissy and Parasol, work in the weather team, first time taking control over Parasol’s mind, when yellow mare started to have doubts… Then the endless violence: her both dead and alive victims and tools, Rainstorm, Scootaloo, Bon-Bon, Parasol, Krissy, Cloudchaser, Lightning Dust, Berry Punch, Rainbow Dash, Golden Heart and Cloud Counter stood there, looking at her: some with hostility, some with compassion, dead ones were calling her, but she only smiled at them.

“I can’t die now!” she shouted, spitting saliva and blood at them, “My final, sharpest tool is about to be used, and nopony can stop me! Understand? NOPONY!”

She fell on the ground, trying to reach them with her hooves, but spectral ponies disappeared, when she exhaled air from her lungs for the last time.

***

It took some time, before Twilight managed to look into Flitter’s gimlet eyes without fear. Her body froze in a dramatic pose, with front hooves outstretched and hind ones unnaturally bent. Her teeth were bared, lips forming a sardonic smile, which caused Twilight to avert her gaze.

“She had crawled for over a mile before she died,” Mayday said, staring at the body.

“I don’t understand…” Twilight repeated, “If she’s here, then who killed Apple Fritter?”

One

It was one of the biggest funerals Twilight had ever been to. Apple Fritter’s last wish was to be buried in Ponyville, where she was born, and the whole Apple family gathered there together to farewell her. The Elements of Harmony, except of Rainbow Dash, who was still in Detrot hospital (Twilight had called Flammenwerfer and Falter, telling them to keep an eye for her, just in case) also arrived to support Applejack, who was devastated by the death of her cousin. Scootaloo also was there, embracing Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle with her wings.

“Our little bushel just lost one apple,” said Granny Smith grimly, when the coffin was lowered to the ground. Applejack was trying to wipe the tears with her hat, while her sister was crying openly in Scootaloo’s grip. The orange pegasus was staring at the grave with blank face, similarly to Big Macintosh.

Twilight couldn’t calm down. Since she returned to Ponyville, none of her friends were killed or otherwise assaulted, but she still was freaking out to the point when she nearly hit Spike with a magic beam when he had woken her up in the morning.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Rarity, who was standing next to her, and went through the crowd of Apple family members.
Although some ponies considered it strange, she actually liked cemeteries. The silence and solemn atmosphere was always helping her to collect her thoughts.

She went down the hill and saw that there’s another funeral near the neighbouring alley. Unlike Apple Fritter’s, there were only six ponies standing there. She looked at them closer and saw a distinctive mane of one of them. For a moment she froze, remembering the last time she’d met that pony – three years ago, on the same cemetery.

When she approached them, the gravedigger was just burying the coffin. Cloudchaser was watching it with tears in her eyes, accompanied by Thunderlane. In some distance from them stood a cream mare whom Twilight recognized as the one who had pretended to be Golden Heart. Guarded by two well-built stallions, she was staring at the grave with a faint smile.
“Hello, Cloudchaser,” Twilight said. Just like the last time they met, the pegasus looked at her with a feared expression and backpedalled. Thunderlane embraced her with her wing, in a manner that made Twilight think of Scootaloo: a protective gesture, universal for all the pegasi.

“Hi Twilight,” she replied, “I… she…”

“It’s ok,” said the unicorn, “Please, accept my deepest condolences…”

“I… I don’t know if I should mourn her,” Cloudchaser cried, “She… she was…”

“She was your sister,” Twilight said, “No matter what she did, she was your sister, and it’s normal that you mourn her.”

Cloudchaser stopped crying, though her eyes were still red.

“I have something for you,” she said, “I planned to go to the library after the funeral, but since you’re here…” she took an old potion book from Thunderlane’s saddlebags and gave it to Twilight.

“I found it when I was searching through her belongings. It’s probably long overdue…”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Twilight, “See you later.”

She trotted back to her friends. A large group of Applejack’s relatives was now heading to Sweet Apple Acres.

***

During the wake, Applejack got drunk.

It hadn’t happen until Granny Smith went to sleep. Twilight had seen that coming, noticing her friend’s wistful stares at the bottle, and she’d told Apple Bloom and Pinkie to watch her, but the filly was still glum after the funeral and soon went to sleep, leaving her older sibling with guests, and Pinkie, her hair deflated, was too lost in her thoughts to notice Applejack refilling her mug repeatedly. When Twilight, who went out for a moment to call Rainbow Dash, came back, it was already too late. Luckily, unlike the cyan mare, Applejack wasn’t an obnoxious and aggressive kind of drunk, she’d just fallen asleep, resting her head on Fluttershy’s arm.

“Stay with the guests, Big Macintosh, we’ll take care of her,” said Twilight quickly and helped the yellow pegasus support Applejack.

“Eeyup,” he replied.

They trotted down the corridor.

“Watch out, Jackie, stairs ahead,” said Twilight. The orange mare muttered something incoherently, and carefully placed her hoof on a step. Walking upstairs while trying to carry her was tricky, fortunately Twilight had some practice after helping Trixie, and Fluttershy could use her wings to balance herself. They managed to half lead, half drag Applejack to her room and put her in her bed. She opened her eyes and look at them half-consciously.

“Um… are you ok, AJ?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yeah, Ah… Ah’m just… I don’t know…” Applejack slurred, “Y’all saved my cousin from the fire, and then…” her head fell on the pillow, “That’s just unfair.”

“I know,” said Twilight, “But I don’t know how it happened. The guards from Baltimare are investigating this case, and ETSB is investigating the crash.”

“Dat’s all a bunch of horseapples, sugarcube,” Applejack exclaimed, “Ah want ya to investigate it…”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” said Twilight, “Royal Guard’s captain from Baltimare doesn’t allow me to help them, and since Flitter died in a crash, I have no proof that these cases are connected.”

“Proof!” Applejack raised from her bed, and Fluttershy had to calm her down, “Who needs a proof, Ah’d just shoot anypony who…” her head fell on the pillow again, and she fell asleep.

“I’ll stay with her, in case she needs help,” said Fluttershy. Twilight nodded and went downstairs.

The gathering was slowly dying down, most of the ponies went to sleep, leaving Big Macintosh talking with Braeburn, and Pinkie sitting alone by the table.

“Where’s Rarity?” Twilight asked her.

“She went with Sweetie to Carousel Boutique,” pink pony replied, still far away from her usual, happy mood, “Scootaloo went with them.”

“Good. I think I’ll go home too.”

They both headed to the door, saying goodbye to Big Macintosh. Twilight chose not to teleport, instead walking with Pinkie to Sugarcube Corner. The pink mare wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and after several failed attempts, Twilight decided to walk in silence.

“Goodnight Pinkie,” she said when they stopped near the bakery.

“Goodnight,” Pinkie yawned and went inside the building. Twilight sighed and headed to library.

***

Twilight opened one eye and looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was 3 AM, and she couldn’t fall asleep. She looked around and noticed that Spike wasn’t in his basket. That was weird – usually she was the one to stay up late.

I’m getting old… she thought, Irregular lifestyle, stress, and there goes the biological clock.

“Hello, Twilight,” said somepony sitting on her bed, “I was waiting for you to wake up…”

“Trixie?” she exclaimed, turning to her quickly, “What are you doing here?”

“I thought that you’d need help with all that you’ve have to deal recently…” said Trixie, smiling seductively, “Trixie can ease your pain, get you on your hooves again…” she sang, leaning to her.

“What are you…” Twilight jumped away, covering herself with her blanket, “Trixie, I appreciate your willingness to help, but I don’t need to relieve stress, especially not in that way… Besides, couldn’t you wait till the morning?” she asked, trying to keep herself as far from approaching Trixie as possible.

“Oh, silly filly…” said Trixie, her voice suddenly changing a bit, “I didn’t mean to ease your pain in such a mundane way. I thought about something more permanent…”

Suddenly Twilight saw an ancient crossbow in her hoof, and when she looked at her closer she noticed that the mare in front of her doesn’t look like Trixie at all, with wings, long mane tied with a pink bow, and a psychotic smile.

“Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle…” she said, just before pulling the trigger.

“NOOOO!” she screamed.

“Umm… too big?” she heard a sleepy voice on her left. She opened her eyes and saw her bedroom bathed in sunlight. Spike was sleeping in his basket, still muttering something. Twilight looked at her chest expecting to see a bolt, but all she found was an undamaged purple fur, wet from sweat. She decided to go downstairs to take a shower and eat something, as the grumbling in her stomach was only a bit quieter than Spike’s snoring.

When she was walking through the library lobby, she saw an old potion book Cloudchaser gave her. The seedy brown cover with silver letters was attracting her. She sat on the floor, preparing to open it with her magic, when something crashed into the wall of the library.

“Dash?” she asked herself, but then thought that cyan mare is still healing her broken ribs in Detrot. She went outside to see Fluttershy trying to free herself from the entanglement of branches.

“Fluttershy? What are you doing here?”

“Quick!” pegasus shouted, surprising Twilight. It wasn’t often for her to shout, so unicorn knew something was wrong, “Applejack… somepony poisoned her!”

Although the morning was warm, Twilight felt her body froze. She considered teleporting directly to Sweet Apple Acres, but she resigned, knowing that she could need all her magic to save her friend, and her form was still a bit low after overexerting herself during the airship crash. She decided to run there, followed by Fluttershy, who was surprisingly fast, flying at low altitude.

“Applejack!” Twilight shouted, entering the farmhouse.

“We’re here!” she heard Apple Bloom’s voice from the upstairs. She rushed there to see the orange mare curled on the floor in fetal position, wailing in pain, and her younger sister sitting helplessly by her side.

“What happened?” Twilight asked, hoping that it was just a bad case of hangover.

“She’d woken up and she was all right…” said Apple Bloom, “Then she asked for water, Ah brought some from the well, and…”

“Sh-she threw up,” Fluttershy finished, “We thought that she’s just sick after the yesterday, but then she fell on the ground, saying that her stomach burns…”

“Mah brother told the rest of the family not to drink the water,” Apple Bloom said. Twilight began channeling magic through her horn, trying to examine what happened to Applejack. Soon she found something that she visualised as a black cloud of magic, hanging above her friend’s stomach, liver and kidneys. Sweat started dripping from her face, when she tried to use her magic to dissipate it.

Suddenly Applejack’s expression changed, and her body relaxed a bit. Her breath became more even, and although she was still pale, she didn’t look as if she was going to die soon.

“That’s all I can do for now,” Twilight panted, exhausted, “I prevented the poison from damaging her organs, but it’s still there. I hope Zecora will be able to find the antidote.”

“Ah swear, Ah’ll never drink again,” Applejack whispered painfully.

“What was that?” Fluttershy asked.

“I have no idea, I’ll take a sample from the well and examine it,” said Twilight.

***

First thing she noticed when she got back to the library was a potion book, still lying on the floor. She could hear Spike bustling in the kitchen, so she stopped by the door to say “hello” to him and tell him what happened to Applejack. He proposed that he’d now try every dish before giving it to her.

“No, thanks,” she laughed, “Your dragon metabolism would digest every poison, and with your “trying” I’d die of starvation quickly…”

“Hey, I’m trying to help!”

“Besides, whoever is this now, he doesn’t want to just kill me,” Twilight muttered to herself, carrying the bottle with the water from Sweet Apple Acres to her lab, “but to make me watch helplessly as all my friends die... Flitter’s methods exactly.”

In her basement she levitated the pipette and the box of tips to share the water between the test tubes. She then started adding various chemicals to the tubes, watching them carefully and taking notes if any of them changed colour. Some of the reactions, however, needed time or temperature. She started to look for the heated bath, and noticed the book she took with her. Curious, she opened it, and found a mind-controlling potion recipe. She only skimmed the ingredients, as she already knew most of them. What interested her the most, was the effects of it.

Mind-controlling potion, invented: 124 after Discord by Charming Masquerade. Status: strictly forbidden, used only for magical research.

Characteristics:

An individual treated with this potion may show various symptoms, depending from the pony controlling them, and their mind’s strength. When controlled by weak minds, they may either be emotionless, or overly emotional, there were also several cases, when a victim overcame the effects.

The victim may be controlled for about a month. Further administering is usually ineffective, due to the build-up of organism’s tolerance, which is sustained for about a year [Starswirl The Bearded, 201 A.D.]. A physical wound of a victim usually causes the bond between them and a controlling pony to break, although it also depends of the magical and psychological properties of both ponies. It is known, that if the both ponies are of the same race, the bond is stronger and more stable. The potion interferes with unicorns’ own magic, causing controlling an unicorn to be extremely difficult. Also earth ponies’ bodies, due to the higher level of hepatic enzymes, cleanses the potion more effectively.

An interesting effect was allegedly observed, after Charming Masquerade was killed in a duel by young Starswirl the Bearded in 152 A.D. As Starswirl wrote in his memoirs, the soul of his defeated opponent was transported into the body of a young earth pony colt Charming Masquerade was controlling at that time. Unable to perform any magic in this body, he was captured and imprisoned. His exact fate is unknown, the Starswirl the Bearded’s incomplete manuscripts states only that “their souls tangled together and no force was to part them”

Twilight closed the book, staring blankly at the distance.

Flitter was dead, there was no doubt. Yet, the night she was crawling through the forest to meet her fate, somepony slipped into the Apple Fritter’s room and stabbed her. It could mean only one thing: somepony was still in her control when she died, and after that her soul (or, as Twilight would say, imprint of her personality in victim’s brain) moved itself from the old, broken body to a new one.

Who could it be? she thought. She immediately rejected Vinyl Scratch: when she collided in mid-air with Rainbow Dash trying to catch her, and later hit the pavement rather hard, the bond between her and Flitter broke instantly. Besides, the DJ was now lying in the hospital bed, unable to move, and according to Rainbow Dash, under recently-arrived Octavia’s tender care. The ponies Flitter used as her tools three years ago were out of the picture: most of them were dead, and even if she was still controlling somepony when she was caught, the bond broke after a month. She recalled the ponies Flitter met on her way to Detrot.

Rainy Waters, who drove her to Cloudsdale, was out of question – she encountered him just after running away from the asylum, without any possibilities to spike his drink. Cloudchaser – that could be it, according to Sharp Shock, there were bottles everywhere, some spilled alcohol on the floor – maybe Flitter had a hidden stash of the potion at home, and gave it to her sister after knocking her unconscious, just in case? Could it even be usable after spending three years in some kind of compartment? Twilight highly doubted it. Also, Cloudchaser spend all that time in Cloudsdale, at first in hospital, recovering from concussion, and later at home, probably crying in Thunderlane’s shoulder. There was no chance she flew to Baltimare and back in one night.

There was Trixie then. According to the late Surveillance’s documents, they’d accidentally met with Flitter in some Celestia-forsaken inn. Trixie was drunk at that time, so Flitter had a possibility to give her a potion. The blue unicorn also happened to be in Baltimare at the time of murder, she even stayed at the same hotel.

Yet, this version also had flaws: Twilight still didn’t knew if Flitter had any potion at that time. Also, neither Trixie, nor hoofcuffed Flitter could set the airship on fire. Twilight herself walked Trixie to her room, and the mage, even sober, wasn’t a master of teleportation. Heck, even if she teleported to Apple Fritter’s room, then why would she leave the door open?
Suddenly Twilight recalled a minor detail she almost forgot about – a silver lighter found on the crash site. She slammed her head with her hoof. “V” meant, of course, “Vinyl”. Whom could the DJ give it, and when? Twilight thought about all the events of the night when she wandered through the sewers with bat-ponies, when Vinyl got into Flitter’s control and helped her...

“Oh crap…” Twilight said loudly.

Author's Note

Well, I got so involved in writing A Kingdom Divided, that I almost forgot about this. Don't worry, we're getting close to an end, next time it'll be final, triple update (one chapter and two alternative epilogues).

Am I Evil?

Twilighy had a feeling of déjà vu when she was running through Ponyville for the second time that day. Near the Sugarcube Corner she met Pinkie Pie, her mane again puffy and curly.

“Hi Twi!” she said, “Where are you running? May I run with you?”

“Pinkie!” Twilight panted, “It’s important: have you seen Rarity, Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo today?”

“Nope! That’s funny because I wanted to meet them today in Carousel Boutique, as Sweetie wanted to sing on one of parties, and when I went there, it was closed and there was no one there!” Pinkie chirped, “Then I saw Fluttershy flying really fast, almost as fast as Rainbow Dash, and… Twilight! Where are you going, silly filly?”

***

The path between Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville led near the edge of the Everfree Forest. Twilight was frantically searching through the bushes, looking for any sight of her friends. Soon, Pinkie joined her, jumping from one shrub to the other, as if she was playing hide-and-seek.

“Rarity!” she called, “Where are you hiding? It’s not funny, scaring poor Twily like that!”

“Pinkie…” she heard a raspy voice coming from under the nearby bush.

“Twilight, help! I hear the voices calling my name!”

“Pinkie, I have no time for your jokes! Rarity might be in danger…”

“Twilight, come here!” Pinkie shouted. Her voice was now different: lower and with some alarming note. Twilight ran quickly to her, and looked under the bush next to which her friend was standing.

Rarity was lying there, looking around half-consciously, her hair covered in blood. A splashes of mud were all over her coat and she was shivering visibly.

“Rarity, what happened?” Twilight asked.

“I…” a fit of cough interrupted her, “I have no idea… We were walking with Scootaloo, and she said that she had forgotten something from Sweet Apple Acres. We were waiting for her somewhere here…” Rarity sobbed, “She… she hit me… and took Sweetie… “

“Don’t worry, Rarity,” Twilight embraced her, “I’ll do everything to find them. Was Scootaloo behaving strange?”

“Y-yes,” Rarity said, “It seemed as if she wanted to kill me and Sweetie on a spot, but something was stopping her… When Sweetie called her… She had some kind of a breakdown, I wanted to stop her, but she snapped and she kicked me… I don’t remember what happened later.”

“Hey!” Pinkie shouted, “There’s a piece of paper on a tree! Just like in Slendermane, except this time it’s not night, and there’s no Slendermane behind me! Or maybe he is? Twilight, is Slendermane behind me?”

“Cut it out, Pinkie, there’s no time for that!” Twilight darted to the tree Pinkie was watching, and took the card – it was a photo of Flitter and Cloudchaser, nailed to the trunk with a knife. On its back a short letter was written in a frantic, messy hoofwriting:

Dear Twilight Sparkle,
If you want to see the Miss of Drama’s little sister alive and with all body parts in the places they should be, come to the old barn in the north of Sweet Apple Acres alone. You have until sunset.
Yours truly,

The letter author’s name was obscured by a large blot.

“What will we do now?” Pinkie asked. Twilight stood up, with a determined look on her face.

“It’s simple: I’ll do what she says.”

***

The northern part of Sweet Apple Acres was rarely visited even by Applejack. There was at least one-hundred year old barn there, paint coming off its worm-eaten walls. Twilight approached it carefully. There was nopony outside it, and it looked quite peaceful, surrounded by the old apple trees, hidden in their shadows. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Sweetie! Are you here?” she called anxiously.

“Twilight?”

In a magenta light from her horn she saw Sweetie Belle. She was bound to a wooden pillar, an expression of pure fear visible on her face, but at least she was unhurt.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie, I’m going to get you out of here,” Twilight said, hoping that her plan would work. All she needed to do was to buy some time.

“H-how is Rarity?” she asked, “Last time I saw her…”

“She’s all right. She has some bruises and a cold after spending a night outside, but Pinkie took her to a doctor.”

“How sweet…” a muffled voice called. A silhouette of a small pegasus emerged from the shadow, carrying a rusty axe in her mouth. “Sappy, as this kid would say…” Scootaloo smiled maliciously, standing between Twilight and Sweetie Belle, and putting an axe next to the unicorn filly.

“Don’t think about using magic, I don’t think you want to hurt that filly… Unless what I’ve heard about you is true, and you really are like Starswirl the Bearded. I guess he just tortured this poor colt to death, hoping that strong physical pain would be able to break the bond between him and Charming Masquerade...”

Twilight’s throat went dry.

“What do you want to do?”

“Really? You don’t know yet?” she took a bottle from under her wing, “It’s simple: you’ll drink it, and I’ll release Sweetie Belle. Then I’ll leave Scootaloo’s body. Maybe. I like it, even though it sometimes refuses to listen to me, it’s good to be sixteen again, especially after I spent last minutes of my life croaking like fucking roadkill in my own blood, piss and shit. It was rather traumatic, but for me it was, I’d say, only another brick in the wall. Your death, however, will be quick and clean.”
Twilight looked at the bottle.

“In case you want to know, it’s the same thing I poured into the well here, but this time it’ll be more concentrated. How are your friends by the way?”

“Applejack got poisoned, but she’ll live,” Twilight didn’t know why she said that.

“Damn earth ponies. How is it that I can’t kill any of you, no matter how I try? I’m really hoping the yellow pegasus drank it. Would she apologize to everypony for troubling them before passing away? Well, too bad you’ll never find out. Decide, you or these fillies.”

“Wait,” Twilight said, feeling the panic building inside of her, “Out of scientific curiosity…”

“Last time I heard that from you, I spent a year in a coma, and two years in a small room, unable to spread my injured wing. Do you want to watch me crush your friend’s sister’s skull with my hooves?”

When she said that, her body suddenly twitched, and she almost lost her balance. Twilight took the opening – she fired a spell, which pinned Scootaloo to the wall, unable to move. She then focused some of her magic on a rope, untying Sweetie, who rushed to her.

“Run,” Twilight whispered, “Find Pinkie and tell her to hurry.”

Sweetie only nodded, and left the barn.

“Come on, Sparkle, finish me off…” she prompted, grinning maniacally, “You took my freedom, my wing, my life, and my last chance to pay you back, frying Rainbow Dash’s little sister should be easy for you.”

She twitched again, her expression changing for a moment to a pure fear. Then the creepy grin returned to her face.

“Stupid filly,” she said, “She still tries to fight. Come on, rid the world of me. I’m ready to meet the maker, I’m looking forward to this. Kill me, I’m only a psycho, who doesn’t even have her own body. You defeated and mutilated me, and you’re not going to put me out of my misery? Who knows, maybe you’ll even be creative and follow Starswirl the Bearded? I’m used to dying, I’ve been dying every day for the last three years. My own sister told me she wished me dead. My body is already in the ground, so why are you waiting?”

“Because I don’t want to be like you,” said Twilight firmly, “Killing and traumatising other ponies just because some guy cheated on your friends in college? You’re right Flitter, you’re a psycho,” she released her from her magic grasp. Scootaloo fell to the ground, staring at her from beneath her eyebrows.

“So, what now?” she asked, “Will you let me go? Give me back to Scootaloo’s parents? ‘Hi, folks, here is your daughter, don’t worry, she might sometimes go out and kill somepony’?”

“Does your offer still stand?” Twilight’s voice was calm, almost devoid of any emotion, when she was staring at the bottle of potion standing in the middle of the barn.

“Yes. You’ll drink it, I’ll leave her, and we’ll end this conversation in Tartarus. This might be a quite interesting experience, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Twilight levitated the bottle to her and opened it. She looked inside. A transparent fluid reflected the magenta glow of her horn, tempting her.

“Stop!” somepony behind her shouted. She turned back to see two ponies’ silhouettes at the barn entrance.

“I found her!” Pinkie said, “I was lucky, she was going to go to Cloudsdale.”

“No shit, Twilight,” said Scootaloo slowly, shaking her head, “You brought my sister to this?”

She lifted an axe, and made a few steps towards Twilight. Cloudchaser approached her carefully.

“Flitter,” she said, her voice quiet and quivering, “You can stop this…”

“Don’t tell me crap! I still remember how you told me that you wished I was dead! Are you happy now?”

“Flitter…”

“Of course you’re not happy! Who would be happy having an evil, bloodthirsty sister who can’t even die?”

“No, it’s not that!” Cloudchaser snapped, “Flitter, for Celestia’s sake, what happened to you?” she lowered her voice again, “I don’t think you’re evil, sis. You just… I wish I’d seen that before it was too late. I could have helped you.”

“Oh yeah, I’m almost starting to cry…” Scootaloo mockingly wiped her eyes.

“Cloudchaser is right,” Twilight said, “You were controlling Scootaloo when she saved those foals from the fire. You are not evil, Flitter.”

“Yeah, right after I made her set the airship on fire,” Scootaloo tried to smirk, but another twitch stopped her, “Besides, it was her idea… I just allowed her to do it.”

“Why?” Cloudchaser asked.

“I… I don’t know. That was an impulse,” a mocking happiness evaporated from Scootaloo’s voice, it now sounded empty, like after the airship crash. She fell onto her haunches, leaning closer to Cloudchaser.

“You’re not a bad pony, sis,” Cloudchaser whispered, hugging Scootaloo, as if she was truly her sister, “You don’t have to hurt anypony anymore.”

“B-but I… I saw them all. Cloud Counter, Rainstorm, Krissy, Parasol, Lightning Dust… They’re waiting for me. I don’t want to face them…” Scootaloo trembled, and embraced Cloudchaser like foals embrace their mother.

“Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you. I… I think they’ll forgive you,” Cloudchaser tried to remain calm, but her voice faltered.
“I don’t want to leave… but she rejects me, she grows stronger...”

“Then let it go, sis,” Cloudchaser sobbed openly, sinking her face in Scootaloo’s coat.

“We’ll meet again, sister,” Scootaloo said, “I promise. When this filly wakes up, tell her that I was sorry.”

She closed her eyes, and a light blue magical aura appeared around her head. It departed from her, forming a spherical shape, before it disappeared with a flash of light.

Scootaloo opened her eyes, finding herself in Cloudchaser’s tight embrace. She looked around to see Twilight and Pinkie staring at her with a mix of shock and interest on their faces.

“Can anypony tell me what’s going on?” she asked before passing out once again.

Author's Note

I might be sentimental, but when I posted this chapter and was making the last edits I thought about this song.

Epilogue: And Justice for All

A year later

The show was terrific. The Wonderbolts were at their top form, performing the most difficult tricks they had in store, complete with a Sonic Rainboom ending the spectacle. Cloudchaser, a new addition to the team, also did well, free falling for over ten seconds, before recovering few feet above the ground to make a low pass above the audience’s heads.
After the show, the audience gathered on a field outside Ponyville to listen to Vinyl Scratch’s first concert after she’d recovered from her wounds.

“Hi, Twilight,” somepony said. She lifted her head to see Scootaloo’s father, Vindaloo, with a tall pegasus mare. Her mane had the same shade as Scootaloo’s, so Twilight assumed that she was her mother.

“Hello, Mr Vindaloo,” she said, “And Mrs…”

“Lightning Dancer,” a mare replied.

“And how about us, Vindy?” an old stallion with a long, gray mane and a beard, wearing a colourful shirt, with peace sign as his cutie mark asked. With his wing, he was embracing an old mare wearing a long dress and lots of bracelets and necklaces, “Why don’t you introduce us to your friend, naughty boy?”

He sighed.

“These are my parents, Magic Mushroom and Summer Love. And this is Twilight Sparkle, a personal student of Princess Celestia.”

“Princess, huh? I’ve met her once,” said Magic Mushroom, “She came to my tent to ask for some of those enchanted muffins my wife used to bake…”

“How many times do I have to remind you that you only hallucinated about Princess Celestia, after eating one muffin too many?” Summer Love asked.

“Really? But it makes such a nice story…”

“Dad, I think I hear Rainy Water calling you,” said Vindaloo quickly, pointing at his brother, who was standing few yards from them, smoking a cigarette.

“Really, boy? Let’s see what he wants…” said Magic Mushroom, and he and his wife trotted to Rainy Waters. Vindaloo sighed with relief.

“So, these are Scootaloo’s grandparents?” Twilight asked, “They seem nice.”

“Yeah, unless you live with them for twenty years…” he looked around to make sure they weren’t within earshot.

“How’s Scootaloo?” Twilight asked, “She still has these dreams?”

“Sometimes,” said Lightning Dancer, “But it got better since she started flight training.”

“Yeah,” said Vindaloo, “Thank Celestia she doesn’t remember the killings, but sometimes, especially for the first few months she was often waking up screaming.”

***

Vinyl stood up behind her turntables, putting her trademark sunglasses on. That was her favourite moment, just before the concert, when she was able to see the excited faces of the ponies before plunging into a trance, letting her stage persona, DJ-Pon3 take control.

“Before we start…” she said, “I want to thank doctors from Detrot for getting me on my hooves again. You did the great work, guys. I also want to thank my friend, Octavia for being there for me…” her voice faltered, “Even if sometimes I wasn’t there for her.”

The ponies cheered. Octavia, standing in the first row next to Lyra and Bon-Bon, blushed, and tried to hide her face in her hooves. Magic Mushroom patted her head, earning a nasty glare from his wife.

***

“I just got a letter,” said Scootaloo to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. They were some distance from the stage, near the group of trees, “I got into the Wonderbolts Academy!”

“Great!” they exclaimed, hugging her.

“Really? The Wonderbolts have really gone to the dogs…” said Diamond Tiara, who was passing nearby. She looked pissed, perhaps Silver Spoon chatting happily with Twist on the other side of the crowd had something to do with it. Apple Bloom wanted to charge at her, but Scootaloo stopped her.

“Come on, Tiara, don’t be foalish. We’re not blank flanks anymore, I can fly now, and I don’t point out how lame a talent wearing a diamond tiara is. So, do me a favour and stop whining, before you lose all your friends.”

Diamond Tiara opened her eyes, as if she wanted to say something, but after reconsidering it, she turned back to join Silver Spoon and Twist, a look of disgust on her face.

“Do you think she’ll ever change?” Sweetie asked.

“Not any time soon, but Ah think maybe one day…” said Apple Bloom, watching Twist giving Diamond Tiara a peppermint candy.

***

“Ok, there’s one more thing I want to say before we start,” said Vinyl, “A certain young stallion asked me to say something before the show. Apparently, it’s a matter of life and death,” she shrugged, and dragged Thunderlane to the microphone with her magic.

“Come on, dude.”

“Well…” he blushed, “Cloudchaser… will you marry me?” he asked, trying to stand still and hide under the turntables at the same time.

The crowd went silent. Vinyl grinned at Thunderlane, who was now trying to maintain eye contact with Cloudchaser, who was standing among other Wonderbolts in the middle of the crowd.

“Yes,” she said.

Author's Note

...not the end...

Btw, I think I need to thank Rainbow87dash for an idea of Scootaloo's grandparents being a bit weird ;)

Some Kind of Monster (Alternative Ending)

“I just got a letter,” said Scootaloo to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. They were in some distance from the stage, near the group of trees, “I’m got into the Wonderbolts’ Academy!”

“Great!” they exclaimed, hugging her.

Scootaloo smiled, seeing Diamond Tiara walk away. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were talking, but she barely heard that. Somewhere in the distance ponies were cheering. Thunderlane just flew from the stage, to take place near Cloudchaser.

Good job, my little pony, a tiny voice in Scootaloo’s head said, Maybe this filly will now put that stick out of her rump and learn to get on well with other ponies. If not… we can always kill her later…

Author's Note

Well, that's probably the shortest chapter I'll ever write (at least seeing that huge outline for "A Kingdom Divided").
And I don't think I'll ever make it a trilogy - sorry for the pun, but I think it would be beating a dead pony...