Triskaidekaby Final DraftChaptersVictimsAutopsy ReportA Pattern EmergesA Bump in the NightScapegoatScene of the CrimeVictimsAn autumn breeze blew around the two entangled ponies and moonlight reflected off the lake, providing a romantic atmosphere for the lovers. They lay in a clearing, kissing and whispering sweet-nothings, observed only by nature. The leaves rustled around them in small little funnels as the wind blew through the clearing. Dark clouds drifted lazily across the sky, obscuring the moon and leaving the ponies in darkness. The stallion took the opportunity to make a move, unseen. The mare let out a small gasp and clutched the stallion tightly. They repositioned themselves more comfortably and waited for the moon to reappear so they could judge the others’ expression. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the mare whispered. She could feel her lover’s heartbeat against her own chest and knew he was just as nervous. The stallion sighed in agreement and brought his head down to kiss the mare. *Crack!* The stallion looked up suddenly and his heart began beating faster. A break in the clouds allowed the mare to see fear was etched on her lover’s face. “You heard that, right?” he asked. They strained to listen but could only hear the sound of falling leaves. “It’s just the wind,” the mare whispered. She began nibbling on the stallion’s neck. Tension slowly left his body and he returned his attention to his marefriend. Their lips locked and their tongues wrestled with each other. Another branch snapped somewhere in the distance. “I think there’s something—” The stallion had his sentence cut short. His marefriend grabbed his head and brought their lips back together. He fought to break free but eventually hormones took over. Darkness obscured the couple again and the stallion got to work. The mare arched her back and moaned with pleasure as her lover satisfied her. Only moments later, the stallion let out a relieved sigh and halted his assault. He went to kiss the mare but she pushed his face away in disgust. “Really? That’s it?” she asked. The stallion looked mortified at his marefriend’s complete displeasure. She crossed her arms in front of her and laid her head on its side. “Ugh, just take me home.” “I’m s-sorry! Gimme like, ten minutes, I’ll try again,” the stallion begged. The mare pushed him off of her and stood up to fix her mane. The stallion tried to rationalize what had happened but couldn’t. “P-please, it’s just that you’re so beautiful, and I—” “Save it,” the mare interrupted. “You have ten minutes to get ready for round two. I’m going to the bathroom.” The mare swung her hips as she walked into a small grove of trees. The stallion stood dumbstruck in the clearing and tried to clear his mind. The moon broke through the clouds and he looked around the clearing. “I was nervous, that’s all—yeah,” the stallion said aloud, allowing his heart beat to return to normal. “I just gotta calm down and relax. It’s just me and her, ain’t nothing or no-pony else out here.” *Crack!* The stallion’s heart began racing again. Some bushes in the darkness began rustling and more twigs cracked. A large cloud cast darkness over the forest once more and a pair of red eyes glowed in the distance. “Aaaaaaah!” “Libra!” The stallion turned from the eyes and ran to where he heard the scream. He pushed through bushes and undergrowth until he found his marefriend approaching him angrily. “Libra, what—” “You didn’t wear a condom, did you?!” The mare smashed both her hooves against the stallion, knocking the breath out of him. “I swear, if I end up pregnant, I’m going to kill you!” She pushed him so forcefully he wound up on his rear legs and teetered, inches from falling backwards. “I will literally cut off your horn and shove it up your—” Blood sprayed the mare in the face as something punctured the stallion’s chest. He reached down and clutched at the protrusion with his hooves. A trickle of blood flowed down the side of his mouth and his eyes went wide with horror. The mare screamed as her lover fell to the ground and blood pooled under him. A shadowed figure stood and faced the mare, blood dripping from its horn. She screamed and galloped away from the horror, into the darkness. It went to take a stride forward but something caught its leg. The stallion held on, desperately trying to buy his lover some time to escape. The figure levitated a machete out of its cloak and the moonlight glinted off of it. “Please…no,” the stallion begged, coughing up blood. The figure stared with unblinking eyes and began hacking away at the stallion. “No! No!” he screamed with every slash. Crimson streams splashed against the trees and surrounding foliage. The stallion’s hoof fell limp and the figure set out for the mare. The moon cast jagged shadows all through the forest and the mare ran without direction. Thorns and bushes cut her flesh as she desperately tried to escape. She looked over her shoulder to check for her pursuer and slammed into something solid. A machete swung inches from her face and got stuck in the trunk of an oak tree. The figure fought to dislodge it and the mare sprinted in the opposite direction. With a sickening snap, the mare fell to the ground after her hoof got caught in some roots. She clutched at her broken ankle and looked at the horrible shape in the moonlight. A bloody hoof reached from the darkness and pawed weakly at the ground near her. She screamed and reeled backwards to see her lover. “Run…” the stallion whispered with his last breath. The mare began sobbing hysterically and struggled to her hooves. Twigs snapped behind her and fear willed her on. From the clearing, she knew exactly where the two had entered the forest. “Help me!” she screamed, hoping that some-pony may be near enough to hear her plea. “Help me, please!” The path wound and turned until the trees started to thin out and Manehatten came into view. The heavy breathing of her pursuer grew louder and she tried to run faster. Her ankle gave out and she fell, tumbling into a small ravine. She tried desperately to climb out but kept slipping against the wet leaves. From above, the figure looked down at the helpless pony. “Stay away!” the mare shouted. The figure ignored her, slowly walking down the incline with a machete at the ready. It stood over her for a moment, silent and foreboding. She kicked at it with her good leg in attempt to deter it. The moon edged its way from behind the clouds and shone down into the ravine. The mare could see the features of her attacker and her heart stopped. “No. You can’t be real. You AREN’T real!” Without a word, the figure brought the machete slashing across the mare’s chest. She screamed with each passing of the blade until blood filled her throat. The figure stopped to look at the mare as she slowly bled out. The machete dripped blood and shone crimson in the moonlight. After one final slash, the figure sheathed its weapon and turned to stare at the moon. Autopsy Report“You aren’t squeamish, are you, Agent Mercury?” The coroner looked to his guest, a tall, brown, earth pony stallion with blue eyes. “N-no, let’s see it.” The stallion stuttered and adjusted his tie as he tried to compose himself. The coroner lifted the sheet off the mutilated corpse and turned to gauge the investigator’s reaction. “Now, what would you like to know about Miss Libra?” The coroner stretched a rubber glove over his hoof and let it snap loudly when he released it. The brown earth pony put on a glove as well and leaned over the operating table. The mare’s face was a crisscross of lacerations right down to the skull. Her chest cavity was wide open and what was left of her internal organs sat in shredded piles. “First off, what was cause of death?” “Severed Carotid Artery.” He pointed to a large gash on the mare’s neck. “She would have bled out almost instantly.” “So, was this—” The stallion pointed to the mess of cuts and gashes on the mare’s chest, “—post or perimortem?” “Peri I’m afraid. They all show signs of hemorrhaging. Poor thing was alive for all of it.” The doctor held up the mare’s limp forearm and held her hoof straight out. “I found a perimortem break here, indicating she fled from her attacker.” The ankle jutted out in odd angles and the doctor set her forearm back on the table. “Was anything…missing?” “You mean aside from these?” The doctor lifted the sheet completely and exposed the bloody stumps where the mare’s rear legs had been. “THESE were postmortem if you’re wondering—but no, from what I can tell everything else is intact, even if it is a shredded mess.” “Were there any similarities between her and the other two victims?” “Aside from location and manner of death, not really—though I did find…’traces’…of victim two inside Libra here. Their times of death were only minutes apart so I assume they were interrupted during a romantic encounter.” “Anything missing from victim two?” “The family jewels are missing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Libra here cut them off. Ha! Oh—and his stomach, liver, and kidneys; all completely missing.” The coroner covered Libra’s corpse and escorted his guest to another covered body. “I assume they would have taken his heart as well had it not been punctured.” “So you don’t think it’s animal attacks?” The coroner scoffed and lifted the sheet covering the stallion. “That’s what the police are saying to keep every-pony calm during the Nightmare Night celebrations. But then…Why would a Fed be investigating animal attacks, hmm, Agent Freed Mercury?” Cold Case swallowed nervously and wished his brother could come up with something other than famous musician names for aliases. He suddenly wondered how his brother, “Agent Spruce Springsteam”, was doing at the police station. “We’re just covering all our bases.” The coroner squinted at Cold Case with contemplation etched across his face. “Fair enough,” he said at last. “Victim number two endured far more than his lover over there.” He turned his attention back to the stallion on the table. “Cause of death was a broken heart. Poetic, huh? In all seriousness, something punctured this fellow’s chest and did major damage upon exiting.” Cold Case could see clean through the hole to the operating table. The stallion’s abdomen was ripped open and the entrails had been pinned in place, similar to a frog in a science fair. “It was the best method to establish what was and wasn’t there.” The coroner poked his gloved hoof at a large empty space between the organs. “And as you can see, there is no stomach, liver, or kidneys.” Once again the coroner covered the corpse and led Cold Case to another. “Victim number one? Found in about the same area two days prior to the most recent attacks?” Cold Case asked. “Bingo.” The coroner removed the sheet and Cold Case had to look away. The pony’s muscles were completely exposed by a lack of pelt. “This is why the police were quick to call it an animal attack.” He pointed to several strange marks across the corpse where bits of fur had been left behind. “Something skinned this pony with its teeth.” “Tell me it was post—” “Peri.” The coroner put the sheet back over the poor, deceased stallion. “Anything else I can help you with today, Agent?” Cold Case shook his head to get the image of a pony being skinned alive out of his mind. “No, you’ve been more than helpful. If, um, if anything odd turns up, give me a call.” Cold Case gave the coroner a card from within his suit pocket and turned to leave. He could feel the coroner’s eyes upon him as he walked away. “Oh Agent.” Cold Case turned slowly around and saw the coroner taking off his blood covered gloves. “Do be careful out there. I don’t want to see you on one of these tables.” Cold Case forced a smile and quickly ran up the stairs and out of the morgue. His brother Redeemer was outside, leaning up against a light post and eyeing some young mares setting up Nightmare Night decorations. He distractedly munched on a candied apple and sprinkles collected on the front of his suit. “Yo, we were right, definitely not animal attacks.” Redeemer didn’t reply and continued to eye the mares with a goofy smile on his face. “Redeemer? Deem? DEEM!” The short stallion dropped his candied apple in surprise as he was shaken back to reality by his younger brother’s voice. “What? What? I’m doing research!” Cold Case just looked at him skeptically. “Alright, I’m listening, what did you say?” “I said we were right about it not being an animal attack.” “Were-pony, right?” “M.O. doesn’t fit; all victims still had their hearts for the most part.” “Most part?” “Yeah.” Cold Case began walking down the crowded street and Redeemer looked at his candied apple in disappointment before following. “So what did you find out?” Redeemer fished through his suit pockets for his notepad and several bar napkins with feminine hoof writing fell out. At last he pulled the notepad out and flipped past several pages of doodles and cuss words. “All right, I got it,” he said stopping on a page of actual notes. “The police have gotten scattered reports of ‘creature’ sightings all week. Supposedly a ten foot tall pony-like creature with glowing red eyes has been seen around where they found the vics.” “Anything about this prior to this week?” “No, nothing more than a timberwolf sighting going back almost two years. Get this though, I did some digging and five years ago there was another string of deaths like this. Same time period and there were witness reports of a giant pony with red eyes.” Redeemer ran his hoof through his black mane and put his notepad away. “See, I can do research.” “So was it just five years ago or did it happen again before that?” Cold Case asked, loosening his tie. “Errr…I didn’t dig that far.” Redeemer grabbed another candied apple from one of the many booths set up on the main street and tossed a few bits at the attendant. “Man, why do we get stuck working a case EVERY Nightmare Night? Just once I’d like to go trick-or-treating.” “Deem, aren’t you a bit old for that?” “Hey, you are never too old for free candy.” He took a big bite out of his candied apple and sprinkles stuck to the sides of his mouth. “If you say so. Anyway, we’re burning daylight, let’s go to where they found the bodies, and see if we can get some EMF or something.” Cold Case suggested. His brother nodded and grabbed one more candied apple for the road. A Pattern EmergesCold Case stared at his laptop, scrolling through old police reports and local forums, doing the research his brother should have done earlier that day. Redeemer sat on the motel couch and tipped back a bottle of his favorite brew. A commercial for the Manehatten Nightmare Night Extravaganza played through the speakers of a small color television. “Deem,” Cold Case said with mild agitation, “Wanna turn that crap off? I’m trying to concentrate.” Redeemer grabbed the remote and turned the volume down. He sighed and took another sip of his drink. Cold Case looked over at him and tapped his hoof impatiently. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to do.” Redeemer shut the television off and rolled off the couch. “Want me go question the vic’s parents or something?” “Yeah. Sure.” Cold Case clicked on a link and focused on reading the small text. “Alright then,” Redeemer replied. He set his empty bottle next to his brother before leaving the motel room, letting the door slam as he exited. The only noise now was the ticking of the clock and Cold Case focused on his research. He wound up on the Manehatten Times newspaper archive and began scrolling through various headlines. The city had deaths and murders year round but they were typically ordinary stabbings or shootings. The two brothers had worked many cases in Manehatten over the years and Cold Case smiled every time he saw a headline he recognized. “That one was a ghost…Those were demon attacks…Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that cursed mirror.” Eventually, he came to the headline Redeemer must have seen earlier that day. “Third Victim of Nightmare Night Killer Found Decapitated.” The paper was dated five years ago to the day and had a picture of police carrying a body bag out of the woods. “Police recovered a third body this morning just outside of Manehatten and fear is mounting. The attacks all bear the resemblance of the murders that took place five years ago at the same location. Authorities still have no leads to go on and are working fervently to find the culprit. Witnesses have reported seeing a tall pony-like creature with red eyes in the area. Read more on page A2…” “Five years before this there were more?” Cold Case went to the directory and jumped back five years. Sure enough, October 29th’s headline read, “Death Toll Rises to Five in String of Grisly Murders.” “A mare was found dead this morning and is believed to be the fifth victim of what locals call, Triskaideka, a monstrous stallion whose name derives from its “13” cutie-mark. Investigators still deny the existence of such a creature, claiming the attacks five years ago were that of a rogue timberwolf and this week’s attacks can just as easily be explained.” Cold Case began to see a pattern and brought up the newspapers for every fifth year. Sure enough, going back almost a hundred years, several ponies died in horrific ways right before Nightmare Night. The source of the deaths alternated between murders and animal attacks but the modus operandi was always the same; young healthy ponies torn apart shortly before Nightmare Night, either limbs or organs missing from the autopsies and witness reports of a giant stallion. Eighty years back, on a digital copy of a yellowing newspaper article was the headline, “Colt survives family’s massacre.” Cold Case scrolled through the article slowly and felt he finally had something. “Little Ion Cosmos was the sole survivor after some-pony broke into his parent’s Manehatten home late last night and killed his entire family. His parents were found dead in their bedroom, having suffered from multiple stab wounds and lacerations. Upstairs, the body of Ion’s older sister Nebula was found in the same condition. “Police arrived after the milk-pony informed them he’d found the house’s front door wide open and could hear crying from inside. By that time, the culprit(s) had already made their escape. “Ion was found unharmed but in a state of mental and emotional distress. He told police he’d woken up after hearing his sister scream. Scared, the pony hid under his bed and listened as a set of hooves made its way towards his room. He described to the police a stallion that looked like a stitched up doll with different color fur and big red eyes entered his room and looked around. Just as it was about to look under the bed another pony ran into the room and began shouting. He called the tall one ‘Triskaideka’ and kept yelling until they left. Ion could not describe the other pony but stated the tall stallion was a unicorn with a ‘one-three’ cutie-mark. Perhaps most peculiar was all three of the deceased had their hearts removed from their chests and placed next to them. The hearts were badly damaged from the attacks and possibly left as the killer’s signature. It is possible this case could be linked to the murders five years ago where three mares were all found missing various body parts.” “Are you kidding me? It goes further?” Cold Case went to take a sip from the bottle his brother had left next to him, forgetting it was empty. “Damn it, Deem.” The door swung open and a teary-eyed mare looked outside. “Not another one, look, I’ve already dealt with enough reporters today, so please, just leave us alone.” She went to close the door and Redeemer stopped it with his hoof. “I’m sorry to bother you ma’am but I’m with the FBI.” He held out his badge for the mare to see. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your daughter Libra.” The mare just wiped at her eyes and jerkily nodded her head before admitting him to her home. Redeemer stepped in and looked around. A pile of grievance gifts covered the kitchen table and a large picture of Libra was set in the middle. “What do you need to know?” The mare cleared a spot on the table and offered Redeemer a seat. He sat and she went to pour herself a glass of liquor from an almost empty bottle. “Well, first off, I’m sorry for your loss.” Redeemer watched as the mare emptied her glass and began pouring another. “Do you know if Libra had any enemies? Some-pony that wanted to hurt her? The mare coughed on her drink and looked at Redeemer with wide eyes. “I was told it was an animal attack. Why would you ask such questions?” “We’re just trying to cover all our bases, ma’am.” Redeemer squirmed in his seat nervously. “Oh Celestia,” she put her hoof over her mouth and began sobbing. “Who would do that to her?” She continued sobbing and Redeemer waited for her to calm down. He looked around from his seat and saw an elderly stallion in a wheelchair sitting in the living room. The old timer just stared out the window and breathed heavily with the assistance of oxygen tanks. “Who’s Father Time over there?” Redeemer asked when the mare finally stopped sobbing. The elderly stallion continued to stare out the window and rock back and forth slightly. “That’s Grandpa Ion—my father.” “Is he okay?” “Stroke a few months back. It’s been tough on all of us…and now Libra.” The mare gently sobbed as she emptied her bottle of liquor straight into her mouth. “Ma’am, I understand this is a very rough time for you, I just need to ask you a few more questions.” He waited for her to set the bottle down before continuing. “Have you ever heard of something called Triskaideka?” The elderly stallion began screaming and shouting incoherently at the mention of Triskaideka. His daughter stumbled out of the kitchen as fast as she could to his side. Redeemer walked over and watched as the frightened stallion clutched his daughter and mumbled gibberish. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay dad, it’s okay,” she whispered into his ear. After a few moments he released her and continued to stare out the window and mumble. She turned to Redeemer and glared at him angrily. “Whoa, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he said, putting his hooves up in front of him in defense. “I’d like for you to leave, Agent.” The mare said sternly. She lifted the brake on her father’s wheel chair and began pushing him down the hall. Redeemer just stood there and watched as the stallion was wheeled out of sight. Author's Note Any guesses as to what's going on? A Bump in the Night“Wow, so you’re, like, a REAL FBI agent?” The young mare looked over Redeemer’s badge, comparing the picture to the handsome brown stallion before her. The bartender brought over Redeemer’s bottle beer and the mare’s tall fruity cocktail. “That’s right,” he said, taking his badge back and grabbing his beer. “I’m here working a case. I was hoping you might be able to help me.” “Is this about Libra and the others?” she asked with concern. “Because I heard those were just animal attacks.” “Is that all you’ve heard?” The mare’s eyes darted around nervously and she took a big sip of her drink. “No,” she said quietly, “I’ve heard it’s the Triskaideka again. It’s what a lot of ponies are saying.” “What is Triskaideka?” Redeemer asked, leaning in close to the mare. She looked at him with wide eyes and took another sip. “It’s like, this big unicorn with glowing red eyes, and he’s really tall, and he cuts ponies up and puts their pelts over his.” She seemed genuinely afraid to talk about the topic and Redeemer put his hoof on hers reassuringly. The mare looked down and smiled. Cold Case was questioning some local stallions across the bar and looked up to see his brother holding the mare’s hoof. “Really, Deem?” he asked under his breath. Redeemer looked over and smiled awkwardly as the mare wrote down her number on a bar napkin. “So what’s FBI wanna know about an urban legend?” One of the stallions Cold Case was questioning sunk his shot and walked away from the pool table. He sat down across from Cold Case and looked at the pictures that were laid out. “Because we’re not sure what else could have done this.” Cold Case watched as the stallion looked over the autopsy photos and grimaced. “Yeah…that’s…yeah.” The stallion couldn’t find any other words to say and continued to stare. Cold Case put the photos back into their manila folders and slipped them into his jacket. “So you think Triskaideka could be real?” the stallion asked, clearing his throat. “We don’t know what to think right now, but why don’t you tell me what you do know?” The stallion looked around and lowered his voice. “The thing’s just an old ghost tale, but I’ve heard it ain’t all made up. Way back, there was this scientist…Crypt Key I think was his name…went crazy after his wife died. “Started doing all these experiments, bringing the dead back to life, ya dig? Story goes; it took him thirteen tries before he got one to stay alive.” “I’m guessing that’s Triskaideka.” “Bingo. Hey, I’m up.” The stallion grabbed his pool stick and approached the pool table. “Thank you for your time,” Cold Case said, patting the stallion on the shoulder, and walking to the bar where his brother continued to flirt with the young mare. “Hey, if you need anything, you call me,” Redeemer said, smiling as the mare got up and joined a group of friends. He turned to look at his brother who was giving him a disapproving look. “You done?” Cold Case asked. “Cause I got a name.” Back at the motel, Redeemer and Cold Case were each doing their own research. Cold Case sat, staring at his laptop, digging up everything he could about Crypt Key. Redeemer poured over his father’s journal trying to find anything on bringing back the dead. “Got it,” Cold Case said at last. He turned the screen toward Redeemer for him to read. On the page was an oil painting of a stallion and mare with mildly happy expressions on their faces. “They look thrilled, “Redeemer commented. “Who’s the mare?” Cold Case turned the screen back towards him. “That would be Crypt Key’s wife Lilium. Says here she died while foaling, and neither she, nor the foal survived.” “Sucks. So this Crypt Key character lost it and resorted to making monsters?” Redeemer asked. “I’m getting to that,” Cold Case replied. “He was the suspect in about twenty murders before the Cosmo killings, but they could never get enough evidence to convict him.” “Manehatten law enforcement for ya,” Redeemer said, taking a sip of his beer. “Go on.” “Those murders weren’t like the ones we’re seeing now. Too clean. I think it took him twenty years to get it right. Once he got Triskaideka up and running, he had it do the dirty work. ” “Okay, so he built thirteen prototypes off of twenty ponies? Why keep killing? He should have had an army by now.” Cold Case turned the screen back towards Redeemer, and now a black and white photo of a mansion engulfed in flames was being displayed. “Crypt Key died in the fire that destroyed his house. If I had to guess, Triskaideka is just running off of its original programming.” “Well it’s gotta be hiding out somewhere on the off years. How much you wanna bet that house had a few hidden underground chambers?” “I’ll get the address.” -v-v-v-v-vv-v-v-vv-v-v-v-v-v-v-vv “That FBI agent was SO hot,” Cream Puff said dreamily. “I can’t believe he gave you his number!” “I know! I should call him right now!” Raspberry said, taking out her cell phone. “Whoa, haven’t you heard of the three day rule?” Cream Puff’s coltfriend Frosty asked. Raspberry looked at her phone hesitantly. “Ohhh, but I want to at least have a hook up for Nightmare Night!” Cream Puff nabbed her friend’s phone before she could hit dial, and put it in her purse. “Trust me, you’ll have one by the time tonight’s over.” “Are there going to be a lot of ponies at this party?” Raspberry asked as they made their way to the edge of the city. A cold breeze swept a wave of leaves out of the forest. Raspberry looked into the woods nervously then back to her friends. “The party is out there?” “Yeah, there’s gonna be bonfires and booze and lots of stallions,” Cream Puff said seductively. She gave Raspberry a little push and led her down the dirt path. Frosty grinned and put his hoof around his marefriend’s neck, and whispered something into her ear. Twigs crunched somewhere in the darkness and Raspberry tried to stop, but her friends pushed her on. “Keep moving, we’re almost there,” Cream Puff assured her. “Isn’t this near where Libra—” “No, we’re not going that far in,” Frosty interrupted. They continued on into the darkened forest with strange rustling noises all around them. Cream Puff whispered something to Frosty and he nodded. They slowed their pace and let Raspberry continue on. “I thought you said we were almost there…hello?” Raspberry turned to see she was now alone in the darkness. Strange noises emerged from the trees and dark shapes moved all around her. “Aaaaaaaaah!” A scream echoed in the distance. Raspberry recognized it as Cream Puff’s voice, and she ran up the path toward where she thought she’d heard it. She burst into a clearing by a lake and saw her friend lying on the ground, covered in blood. “Cream Puff! No!” Raspberry shouted, running toward her friend. Something stepped into the clearing behind her, and she turned to see Triskaideka clumsily making its way out of some bushes. Raspberry screamed as the giant stallion trotted towards her. “Roaaar!” the creature bellowed. A meat cleaver suspended in a yellow aura swung at Raspberry and she fell to the ground. As she lay quivering with her hooves over her eyes, she heard a snicker. She peeked out to see the creature was laughing at her. And then she heard more laughter from behind her. “That was too funny,” Cream Puff said, standing up and wiping tears and fake blood from her eyes. Raspberry’s face turned a brighter red and she began shaking with anger. “That was mean!” she shouted, pushing her friend angrily. Frosty and several other ponies emerged from the woods and joined in the laughter. “Lighten up Rasp, look, the parties here!” Frosty said, indicating to the other laughing ponies. “No! I’m going home!” Raspberry shouted. She turned, but the fake Triskaideka was blocking her path. Several flashlights now shone on it, and she realized just how fake the costume was. “Come on, lighten up,” the actor said, teetering around on his elevated horseshoes. He levitated the mask off his face to smile at Raspberry. She let out a scream and turned to run from the actor. Before he could question why, his head was lobbed off by one swift swing of a machete. The real Triskaideka walked into the clearing and glared at the gathering with its piercing red eyes. The gathering of youth dispersed out into the woods, all screaming as they fled for their lives. The monstrous stallion was too fast for most, and trampled its prey before hacking wildly with its machete. Raspberry listened to the screams of her friends behind her, but kept running regardless. All too soon, she was lost in the woods, and ended up running circles in the darkness. She heard a scream to her left and watched as Triskaideka bore down on Frosty and began goring him with its horn. It stopped to look at her, blood dripping down its horn and onto its patched face. Frosty gurgled and his hooves flailed in the air, trying to ward off his attacker. The creature then turned back to finish the kill. Raspberry took the opportunity to run, but she found herself going back to the clearing. Bodies littered the forest floor and scavengers were already coming out for the free meal. Only, what she thought was a wolf looked distinctly pony shaped and it worked hurriedly on one of the corpses. Raspberry heard the creature muttering as it pulled entrails out and placed them into a container. She stared for a moment before a machete swung inches from her head. “Run!” a voice shouted. One of the stallions from the group smashed into the creature as it was about to behead the mare. Triskaideka didn’t even budge, and the stallion began back stepping from the mistake he’d made. “Yeah, you want a piece of me?!” the stallion shouted with false bravado. Raspberry bolted in the opposite direction as the monster began chasing the brave stallion instead. She tripped and landed in something warm only to find it was the blood of Cream Puff. Her face was to hers, and an expression of true fear had been frozen in place. Her purse was still on her side and Raspberry fished through it frantically. Redeemer’s number was still dialed into her cell phone. She pushed call and held the device to her head. She sobbed quietly as it began ringing and she prayed he would pick up. “We gotta get out while we’re young “’Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to ruuuuuun!” The Spruce Springsteam hit played from somewhere in the distance, and Raspberry looked around in confusion. “Hello?” the gruff voice of Redeemer came through the speaker and from somewhere a short distance away. The beam of a flashlight passed by Raspberry and landed on Cream Puff’s corpse. Raspberry stood up and began waving her hooves frantically. “Please help! They’re all dead!” Raspberry begged. She galloped towards the two and collapsed into tears at their hooves. “Deem, isn’t that the mare from the bar?” Cold Case asked. Redeemer looked at his cell phone and ended the call. “Raspberry, what the HELL are you doing out here?” he asked, looking down at the quivering pile of pony. “Deem!” Cold Case shouted just in time for his brother to duck the swinging machete blade. They both turned and began firing their pistols into the creature. Their bullets sunk into its flesh and a thick black substance dribbled out of the holes. The creature didn’t so much as flinch as it walked through their fire toward them. Its red eyes fixed on Raspberry. “Get her out of here!” Redeemer shouted. “I’m not leaving you here!” Cold Case shouted back. They continued firing into Triskaideka’s skull until their weapons clicked empty. “Now, Cold Case!” Redeemer shouted, switching to his knife. Reluctantly, Cold Case got Raspberry off the ground and carried her back to the path. Triskaideka’s gaze followed the mare until she was out sight, and then it turned to Redeemer. “Yeah, just you and me now,” Redeemer said, adjusting his grip on the knife. Triskaideka levitated the machete at the ready and took a step forward. It swung the machete, but Redeemer managed to duck under it and stab his knife into Triskaideka’s chest. The machete got lodged into an oak tree and the creature resorted to swinging its powerful legs. Redeemer had the wind knocked out of him as the creature’s hoof struck his chest and sent him flying backwards. It put its head down and charged at him. He rolled to avoid the attack and stood back up as it was making another round. He sidestepped the charging stallion and hopped onto its back. The threads holding its pelt together began to tear under the pressure of Redeemer as it ran. With a sickening rip, a section of stitched pelt slid off the creature’s muscles. Redeemer tumbled to the ground with the pelt still in his hooves. The grotesque monstrosity stood over Redeemer with its muscular system partially exposed. Black fluids were still leaking from the bullet holes the brothers had put into it. It put its horn to Redeemer’s chest and began applying pressure. He screamed as the horn tore slowly into his flesh. He put his hooves up to try to stop it. Triskiadeka’s face slid beneath his hooves and ripped completely off. The muscles of its face made it appear to be smiling as it bore down on him, and its eyes never blinked. “Hey!” Cold Case shouted. The creature looked up and caught buckshot between the eyes. Its skull cracked and bits of brain began to leak out. Another shot collided with its torso and the ribcage and several organs became exposed. Still the creature stood resolute, staring with a single red eye. Cold Case tried to reload the shotgun, but the creature turned and bucked him into a tree. He fell to the ground next to his brother and gasped for air. Triskaideka stood over them as if it was contemplating what to do next. “What’s it waiting for?” Redeemer asked. He continued applying pressure to his wound which was now soaking his jacket in blood. The creature snorted, sending a spray of blackish red fluids all over the ground before turning its back to them. It wandered off into the darkness, leaving the two brothers alone. ScapegoatCold Case supported his brother as they limped out of the woods to where Raspberry was waiting. She paced nervously and kept glancing around every time a tree branch so much as rustled. When the two emerged, she ran towards them and began sobbing uncontrollably. “They’re dead! They’re all dead!” she cried. Sirens began wailing and red and blue flashing lights could be seen in the distance. “You didn’t call the cops, did you?” Redeemer asked. “Well yeah, what else was I supposed to do?” “We gotta make this quick,” Cold Case said. “Is there anything, and I mean ANYTHING, you can tell us about what happened?” “Because the cops ain’t gonna believe anything you tell them,” Redeemer added, inspecting his wound. The horn hadn’t gone deep enough to puncture anything important. “I saw another pony!” Raspberry shouted after babbling incoherently. “It-it-it was gutting my friends, and it-it-it was—” She broke down into another series of incoherent gibberish. Redeemer gave her a firm shake, but she only started to sob harder. “Deem, we gotta go,” Cold Case said as the police cars came into view. “We were never here,” Redeemer said to Raspberry, holding her close to his face before letting her go. Together, the brothers jumped into their parked car, and with tires squealing, raced away. “That thing is evil, man,” Redeemer said as he drove the vehicle away from the crime scene. “I think we’re dealing with some dark magic or something.” “Yeah, there ain’t much else that can tank a headshot.” Once back at the motel, Redeemer threw off his blood soaked jacket and began tending to his wound. “So you think some pony may have picked up Crypt Key’s little “Franken-Hoof” project?” “It’s possible,” Cold Case replied, wrapping bandages around his own torso. “We’re gonna have to get back out to those woods tomorrow, and see if there’s anything left of that old house.” “Place is gonna be crawling with cops.” Redeemer winced as he poured high proof alcohol on his wound. He took a swig from the bottle then fished through his jacket for something. When he found it, he tossed it at Cold Case. “What the Hell is this?” Cold Case asked in disgust, holding up the tattered scrap of fur. “Part of the thing’s face. I want you to take it to the coroner in the morning; see if it matches any of the vics,” Redeemer replied, plopping down on his bed. Within minutes he was asleep. Cold Case sat down in front his laptop, and began going over the newspaper articles again. After a few hours, he found himself dozing off. A beep from his laptop awoke him and he rubbed his, trying to get them to focus. A new article had been posted and a notification noise had gone off. Cold Case refreshed the page and the October 30th issue of the Manehatten Times appeared on the screen. Officers Gun Down Nightmare Night Killer Late last night, police responded to a frantic 911 call that detailed a masked stallion with a machete, just outside the city border; the same location as the previous night’s attacks. When officers arrived, they could not locate the 911 caller or any other survivors. After an hour long search, police encountered a suspect matching the description they’d received over the phone. The suspect approached police wielding a weapon, and did not respond to verbal warnings. Officers opened fire and brought the suspect down. Read more on A2… Below the text was a picture of police bagging up a cheap Triskaideka mask that was covered in blood. Sheriff Alcatraz stood at the back of the photo, looking quite pleased. Cold Case started getting bad vibes from the article. What happened to Raspberry? She was standing right there when the police showed up. And the stallion in the costume was dead when they arrived; decapitated—not shot. Looks like Alcatraz needed a scapegoat to make himself look good to the public. Cold Case clicked on the next page. The article stated seven bodies were found, but none matched Raspberry’s description. There was nothing about a huge chunk of pony pelt being found either. He debated if he should wake his brother, but there wasn’t really much they could do. They’d have to wait until morning before they could question the police. --V—v—V-- “Is everything alright, Agent?” The coroner had been running back and forth between eight corpses when Cold Case made his way down the stairs. “You appear as though you’re in pain.” He gave Cold Case a quick prod in the chest, and he almost fell to his knees. “Yeah don’t do that!” Cold Case said quickly and painfully. “Bar fight last night, think I may have a cracked rib.” “Huh, crazy life you FBI live,” the coroner said, stepping back to his work. “I’m surprised you’re here. You are aware the case has been solved, correct?” “I’m not so sure,” Cold Case said, grabbing a pair of gloves. He looked over the eight bodies, and none of them were Raspberry’s. “Which one is Triskaideka?” “That’d be this stallion,” the coroner led him to a corpse that had freshly been cut open. “Cause of death: one bullet to the heart. Most normal death I’ve seen all week.” Cold Case looked at the stallion and could see no other trauma to the body; all the organs were intact. “Did we get an ID?” “Yep,” the coroner replied. “Say hello to Booker Bronze. The sheriff tells me he was a rookie to the force.” “Wait, he’s a cop?” “Was a cop, and yes.” “Isn’t he a bit young? These murders have been going on nearly a hundred years, and the colt barely looks a day over eighteen.” “There have been several odd deaths over the years, but I hardly think they’re all connected. We do know that this week’s crimes were the product of this stallion.” The coroner spoke smugly, and waited for Cold Case to reply. Cold Case reached into his jacket pocket and removed a plastic bag. Inside was the piece Triskaideka’s face his brother had gotten the night before. The coroner looked at it, trying to figure out what it was. “What have you there?” he asked. “Just something I need you to analyze,” Cold Case replied. “Just let me know how many ponies it’s made up of and how old each section is. Maybe then you’ll see a connection.” The coroner’s face went white as he took the sample. “Um, I’ll have the results in a few hours…where…where did you get this?” “From the crime scene—seems the cops weren’t very thorough with their investigation.” Without another word, Cold Case left the morgue and went to meet his brother at the police station. The black sports car was parked out front, and Redeemer sat with the seat reclined and his hooves on the steering wheel. “What’s up? You waiting for me?” Cold Case asked as he approached the car. “No, I’m waiting on our buddy Al. Receptionist said he ain’t in today, but that’s his car right there.” Redeemer pointed at a well-maintained, black, antique car that was parked in the front row. It stood out from the surrounding vehicles; predating them by many years. Cold Case glanced at the complex and saw the blinds of one of the offices snap shut. “Yeah, something ain’t right here,” he said, looking back to his brother. “No kidding,” he replied. “So what’d the coroner have?” “Anxiety mostly,” Cold Case answered with a laugh. “Eight bodies is a lot for one coroner.” “So any idea who the scapegoat was?” “Yeah, it was a cop,” Cold Case replied. Redeemer’s jaw dropped and he sat upright in his seat. “This whole thing stinks,” he said, taking out his gun. “I’m gonna go get some answers.” Cold Case kept his weight against the door so his brother couldn’t get out. “Rushing a police station with a gun probably isn’t the best way to do that.” Redeemer settled back into his seat and holstered his gun. “They stick a dead cop in a costume while that THING is still out there? Are they that concerned about their public appearance, or are they trying to protect it?” “There isn’t much we can do in broad daylight,” Cold Case said, opening the passenger door and climbing inside the car. “We can poke around those woods some more though.” “Yeah, maybe now that it’s light out we can find that damn house foundation.” Scene of the CrimeRedeemer walked through the forest holding out a small device with lights and an antenna. He swung it slowly back and forth and it made a low frequency hum, barely audible over the rustling of leaves. Occasionally one of the lights would light up and the hum would change pitch and Redeemer would stop to listen. After a few moments, the light would always fade and the stallion would resume walking. “I don’t know, Deem, I think we can rule out vengeful spirits.” Cold Case kicked a pinecone as he kept pace with his brother. Redeemer shook the device angrily before putting it in his jacket pocket. They continued walking through the woods and came across an area heavily sanctioned off with police tape. “Looks like we found lover’s point,” Redeemer said, crossing into the clearing. He stood and looked out over the lake as a breeze rippled the surface. The oak tree nearest him was covered with the initials of lovers from across the years and he bent down to read them. In the center of all the carvings was a large heart with “CK+L FOREVER” painstakingly engraved deep into the tree’s trunk. It was easily a hundred years old and likely the first thing carved into the tree. “I’ve got something down here.” Cold Case held aside some bushes and waited for his brother to pass in front of him. Redeemer pushed through the undergrowth into a smaller clearing. A large pool of dried blood stained the forest floor and the two lowered their heads to examine it. “I don’t smell any sulfur…but…there is something.” Redeemer wrinkled his nose at the smell. “Gah, that stinks.” Cold Case took a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah, I smell it too. It’s kinda familiar, but you’re right, it isn’t sulfur, so I think we can rule out demons.” “I hate dealing with them black-eyed freaks anyway,” Redeemer grumbled. “Wait. Do you hear that?” Cold Case perked his ears up. Both stallions held their breath to listen and a muffled whining could be heard over the sounds of nature. “I think it’s coming from you,” Cold Case said, tracing the sound to his brother. Redeemer patted his jacket and fished his EMF reader out of his pocket. “I musta forgot to shut it off,” he said, holding it down to the ground. The lights lit up red and the whining grew higher in pitch. “Looks like we may have restless spirits after all.” He held the device up and the signal’s strength weakened. It spiked again after he brought back to the dried blood. The two stallions got on their knees and began rustling though the blood covered pine needles and leaves. “You think something’s buried here?” Cold Case asked after they had completely exposed the ground and still the device whined. “Only one way to find out,” Redeemer replied, moving a pile of dirt with his hooves. A black electrical wire lay less than an inch from the surface and became exposed. “Bah, so much for that.” He stood up and brushed himself off, the EMF reader continuing its incessant call. “Hold on, what’s this even doing out here?” Cold Case grabbed the wire and yanked upward. Several feet of the wire surfaced, leading further into the woods. The brothers looked to each other then back to the ground. “Guess we’ll find out.” An hour of excavating led the two to a rundown shack in a remote part of the forest. Redeemer let the wire fall and looked at the place skeptically. “Place doesn’t even look like it has electricity.” He walked up to a foggy window and put his face against the glass. Inside were a few pieces of broken furniture and dozens of empty glass bottles. “Hooves where I can see ‘em, boys.” The gruff voice’s command was immediately followed by the sound of a hammer being cocked. Redeemer and Cold Case turned to see a large uniformed unicorn stallion levitating a pistol at them. “What are you two doing out here?” “I’m, uh, Special Agent Springsteam,” Redeemer said, slowly reaching into his pocket for his badge. “I said hooves where I can see ‘em!” The officer pointed the gun at Redeemer and took a step forward. Redeemer swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his hooves back into the air. The officer slowly approached the two and reached into Redeemer’s jacket. “The Hell is this thing?” he asked, pulling out the EMF detector. “That’s my scanner. Damned thing doesn’t get any service out here.” Redeemer chuckled nervously. The officer flipped it over until he found the power switch and went back to digging through his suspect’s pockets. When he finally found the badge he held it up to confirm the photo was really of the stallion before him. “Spruce Springsteam? Like the singer, right?” “Yeah, I get that a lot, ha ha.” The officer turned to Cold Case and pointed the gun at him. “And who’s he? Meat Loaf?” “Freed Mercury, actually.” “Ah, that was my next guess.” The officer sheathed his gun and returned Redeemer’s badge. “So tell me, agents, what brings you two out here?” “We’re investigating the murders that happened—” “Whoa whoa whoa, weren’t no murders out here, just animal attacks. Ain’t you read the papers?” “It’s not in our job description to trust what we read, sir.” “And I’ve already spoken with the coroner, last I checked, animals didn’t wield machetes.” The officer took his hat off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Look, I’m just trying to keep the ponies calm during the celebrations. I’m Sheriff Alcatraz, if I can help you with this investigation, just let me know.” “Tell me, Al, has anything like this happened before? You know, string of gruesome deaths right around Nightmare Night?” Redeemer asked, finally back on offense. The sheriff groaned and rolled his eyes. “Are you really gonna question me about that silly Triskaideka myth?” “The Trisca-who-now?” “Tris-kai-dek-a, “the sheriff annunciated. “It’s just a story that mares tell to keep their little ponies out of the woods during Nightmare Night. “Haven’t heard it. Wanna enlighten me?” “I haven’t got time for this. I have REAL police work to do. Good day to you, agents.” The sheriff huffed away from the two and disappeared in a grove of pine trees. “Well, looks like we know where to start,” Cold Case said, stepping forward. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he turned to look back in the shack. “Something up?” Redeemer asked, nudging his brother. “No, no. Just thought I saw something.”
VictimsAn autumn breeze blew around the two entangled ponies and moonlight reflected off the lake, providing a romantic atmosphere for the lovers. They lay in a clearing, kissing and whispering sweet-nothings, observed only by nature. The leaves rustled around them in small little funnels as the wind blew through the clearing. Dark clouds drifted lazily across the sky, obscuring the moon and leaving the ponies in darkness. The stallion took the opportunity to make a move, unseen. The mare let out a small gasp and clutched the stallion tightly. They repositioned themselves more comfortably and waited for the moon to reappear so they could judge the others’ expression. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the mare whispered. She could feel her lover’s heartbeat against her own chest and knew he was just as nervous. The stallion sighed in agreement and brought his head down to kiss the mare. *Crack!* The stallion looked up suddenly and his heart began beating faster. A break in the clouds allowed the mare to see fear was etched on her lover’s face. “You heard that, right?” he asked. They strained to listen but could only hear the sound of falling leaves. “It’s just the wind,” the mare whispered. She began nibbling on the stallion’s neck. Tension slowly left his body and he returned his attention to his marefriend. Their lips locked and their tongues wrestled with each other. Another branch snapped somewhere in the distance. “I think there’s something—” The stallion had his sentence cut short. His marefriend grabbed his head and brought their lips back together. He fought to break free but eventually hormones took over. Darkness obscured the couple again and the stallion got to work. The mare arched her back and moaned with pleasure as her lover satisfied her. Only moments later, the stallion let out a relieved sigh and halted his assault. He went to kiss the mare but she pushed his face away in disgust. “Really? That’s it?” she asked. The stallion looked mortified at his marefriend’s complete displeasure. She crossed her arms in front of her and laid her head on its side. “Ugh, just take me home.” “I’m s-sorry! Gimme like, ten minutes, I’ll try again,” the stallion begged. The mare pushed him off of her and stood up to fix her mane. The stallion tried to rationalize what had happened but couldn’t. “P-please, it’s just that you’re so beautiful, and I—” “Save it,” the mare interrupted. “You have ten minutes to get ready for round two. I’m going to the bathroom.” The mare swung her hips as she walked into a small grove of trees. The stallion stood dumbstruck in the clearing and tried to clear his mind. The moon broke through the clouds and he looked around the clearing. “I was nervous, that’s all—yeah,” the stallion said aloud, allowing his heart beat to return to normal. “I just gotta calm down and relax. It’s just me and her, ain’t nothing or no-pony else out here.” *Crack!* The stallion’s heart began racing again. Some bushes in the darkness began rustling and more twigs cracked. A large cloud cast darkness over the forest once more and a pair of red eyes glowed in the distance. “Aaaaaaah!” “Libra!” The stallion turned from the eyes and ran to where he heard the scream. He pushed through bushes and undergrowth until he found his marefriend approaching him angrily. “Libra, what—” “You didn’t wear a condom, did you?!” The mare smashed both her hooves against the stallion, knocking the breath out of him. “I swear, if I end up pregnant, I’m going to kill you!” She pushed him so forcefully he wound up on his rear legs and teetered, inches from falling backwards. “I will literally cut off your horn and shove it up your—” Blood sprayed the mare in the face as something punctured the stallion’s chest. He reached down and clutched at the protrusion with his hooves. A trickle of blood flowed down the side of his mouth and his eyes went wide with horror. The mare screamed as her lover fell to the ground and blood pooled under him. A shadowed figure stood and faced the mare, blood dripping from its horn. She screamed and galloped away from the horror, into the darkness. It went to take a stride forward but something caught its leg. The stallion held on, desperately trying to buy his lover some time to escape. The figure levitated a machete out of its cloak and the moonlight glinted off of it. “Please…no,” the stallion begged, coughing up blood. The figure stared with unblinking eyes and began hacking away at the stallion. “No! No!” he screamed with every slash. Crimson streams splashed against the trees and surrounding foliage. The stallion’s hoof fell limp and the figure set out for the mare. The moon cast jagged shadows all through the forest and the mare ran without direction. Thorns and bushes cut her flesh as she desperately tried to escape. She looked over her shoulder to check for her pursuer and slammed into something solid. A machete swung inches from her face and got stuck in the trunk of an oak tree. The figure fought to dislodge it and the mare sprinted in the opposite direction. With a sickening snap, the mare fell to the ground after her hoof got caught in some roots. She clutched at her broken ankle and looked at the horrible shape in the moonlight. A bloody hoof reached from the darkness and pawed weakly at the ground near her. She screamed and reeled backwards to see her lover. “Run…” the stallion whispered with his last breath. The mare began sobbing hysterically and struggled to her hooves. Twigs snapped behind her and fear willed her on. From the clearing, she knew exactly where the two had entered the forest. “Help me!” she screamed, hoping that some-pony may be near enough to hear her plea. “Help me, please!” The path wound and turned until the trees started to thin out and Manehatten came into view. The heavy breathing of her pursuer grew louder and she tried to run faster. Her ankle gave out and she fell, tumbling into a small ravine. She tried desperately to climb out but kept slipping against the wet leaves. From above, the figure looked down at the helpless pony. “Stay away!” the mare shouted. The figure ignored her, slowly walking down the incline with a machete at the ready. It stood over her for a moment, silent and foreboding. She kicked at it with her good leg in attempt to deter it. The moon edged its way from behind the clouds and shone down into the ravine. The mare could see the features of her attacker and her heart stopped. “No. You can’t be real. You AREN’T real!” Without a word, the figure brought the machete slashing across the mare’s chest. She screamed with each passing of the blade until blood filled her throat. The figure stopped to look at the mare as she slowly bled out. The machete dripped blood and shone crimson in the moonlight. After one final slash, the figure sheathed its weapon and turned to stare at the moon.
Autopsy Report“You aren’t squeamish, are you, Agent Mercury?” The coroner looked to his guest, a tall, brown, earth pony stallion with blue eyes. “N-no, let’s see it.” The stallion stuttered and adjusted his tie as he tried to compose himself. The coroner lifted the sheet off the mutilated corpse and turned to gauge the investigator’s reaction. “Now, what would you like to know about Miss Libra?” The coroner stretched a rubber glove over his hoof and let it snap loudly when he released it. The brown earth pony put on a glove as well and leaned over the operating table. The mare’s face was a crisscross of lacerations right down to the skull. Her chest cavity was wide open and what was left of her internal organs sat in shredded piles. “First off, what was cause of death?” “Severed Carotid Artery.” He pointed to a large gash on the mare’s neck. “She would have bled out almost instantly.” “So, was this—” The stallion pointed to the mess of cuts and gashes on the mare’s chest, “—post or perimortem?” “Peri I’m afraid. They all show signs of hemorrhaging. Poor thing was alive for all of it.” The doctor held up the mare’s limp forearm and held her hoof straight out. “I found a perimortem break here, indicating she fled from her attacker.” The ankle jutted out in odd angles and the doctor set her forearm back on the table. “Was anything…missing?” “You mean aside from these?” The doctor lifted the sheet completely and exposed the bloody stumps where the mare’s rear legs had been. “THESE were postmortem if you’re wondering—but no, from what I can tell everything else is intact, even if it is a shredded mess.” “Were there any similarities between her and the other two victims?” “Aside from location and manner of death, not really—though I did find…’traces’…of victim two inside Libra here. Their times of death were only minutes apart so I assume they were interrupted during a romantic encounter.” “Anything missing from victim two?” “The family jewels are missing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Libra here cut them off. Ha! Oh—and his stomach, liver, and kidneys; all completely missing.” The coroner covered Libra’s corpse and escorted his guest to another covered body. “I assume they would have taken his heart as well had it not been punctured.” “So you don’t think it’s animal attacks?” The coroner scoffed and lifted the sheet covering the stallion. “That’s what the police are saying to keep every-pony calm during the Nightmare Night celebrations. But then…Why would a Fed be investigating animal attacks, hmm, Agent Freed Mercury?” Cold Case swallowed nervously and wished his brother could come up with something other than famous musician names for aliases. He suddenly wondered how his brother, “Agent Spruce Springsteam”, was doing at the police station. “We’re just covering all our bases.” The coroner squinted at Cold Case with contemplation etched across his face. “Fair enough,” he said at last. “Victim number two endured far more than his lover over there.” He turned his attention back to the stallion on the table. “Cause of death was a broken heart. Poetic, huh? In all seriousness, something punctured this fellow’s chest and did major damage upon exiting.” Cold Case could see clean through the hole to the operating table. The stallion’s abdomen was ripped open and the entrails had been pinned in place, similar to a frog in a science fair. “It was the best method to establish what was and wasn’t there.” The coroner poked his gloved hoof at a large empty space between the organs. “And as you can see, there is no stomach, liver, or kidneys.” Once again the coroner covered the corpse and led Cold Case to another. “Victim number one? Found in about the same area two days prior to the most recent attacks?” Cold Case asked. “Bingo.” The coroner removed the sheet and Cold Case had to look away. The pony’s muscles were completely exposed by a lack of pelt. “This is why the police were quick to call it an animal attack.” He pointed to several strange marks across the corpse where bits of fur had been left behind. “Something skinned this pony with its teeth.” “Tell me it was post—” “Peri.” The coroner put the sheet back over the poor, deceased stallion. “Anything else I can help you with today, Agent?” Cold Case shook his head to get the image of a pony being skinned alive out of his mind. “No, you’ve been more than helpful. If, um, if anything odd turns up, give me a call.” Cold Case gave the coroner a card from within his suit pocket and turned to leave. He could feel the coroner’s eyes upon him as he walked away. “Oh Agent.” Cold Case turned slowly around and saw the coroner taking off his blood covered gloves. “Do be careful out there. I don’t want to see you on one of these tables.” Cold Case forced a smile and quickly ran up the stairs and out of the morgue. His brother Redeemer was outside, leaning up against a light post and eyeing some young mares setting up Nightmare Night decorations. He distractedly munched on a candied apple and sprinkles collected on the front of his suit. “Yo, we were right, definitely not animal attacks.” Redeemer didn’t reply and continued to eye the mares with a goofy smile on his face. “Redeemer? Deem? DEEM!” The short stallion dropped his candied apple in surprise as he was shaken back to reality by his younger brother’s voice. “What? What? I’m doing research!” Cold Case just looked at him skeptically. “Alright, I’m listening, what did you say?” “I said we were right about it not being an animal attack.” “Were-pony, right?” “M.O. doesn’t fit; all victims still had their hearts for the most part.” “Most part?” “Yeah.” Cold Case began walking down the crowded street and Redeemer looked at his candied apple in disappointment before following. “So what did you find out?” Redeemer fished through his suit pockets for his notepad and several bar napkins with feminine hoof writing fell out. At last he pulled the notepad out and flipped past several pages of doodles and cuss words. “All right, I got it,” he said stopping on a page of actual notes. “The police have gotten scattered reports of ‘creature’ sightings all week. Supposedly a ten foot tall pony-like creature with glowing red eyes has been seen around where they found the vics.” “Anything about this prior to this week?” “No, nothing more than a timberwolf sighting going back almost two years. Get this though, I did some digging and five years ago there was another string of deaths like this. Same time period and there were witness reports of a giant pony with red eyes.” Redeemer ran his hoof through his black mane and put his notepad away. “See, I can do research.” “So was it just five years ago or did it happen again before that?” Cold Case asked, loosening his tie. “Errr…I didn’t dig that far.” Redeemer grabbed another candied apple from one of the many booths set up on the main street and tossed a few bits at the attendant. “Man, why do we get stuck working a case EVERY Nightmare Night? Just once I’d like to go trick-or-treating.” “Deem, aren’t you a bit old for that?” “Hey, you are never too old for free candy.” He took a big bite out of his candied apple and sprinkles stuck to the sides of his mouth. “If you say so. Anyway, we’re burning daylight, let’s go to where they found the bodies, and see if we can get some EMF or something.” Cold Case suggested. His brother nodded and grabbed one more candied apple for the road.
A Pattern EmergesCold Case stared at his laptop, scrolling through old police reports and local forums, doing the research his brother should have done earlier that day. Redeemer sat on the motel couch and tipped back a bottle of his favorite brew. A commercial for the Manehatten Nightmare Night Extravaganza played through the speakers of a small color television. “Deem,” Cold Case said with mild agitation, “Wanna turn that crap off? I’m trying to concentrate.” Redeemer grabbed the remote and turned the volume down. He sighed and took another sip of his drink. Cold Case looked over at him and tapped his hoof impatiently. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to do.” Redeemer shut the television off and rolled off the couch. “Want me go question the vic’s parents or something?” “Yeah. Sure.” Cold Case clicked on a link and focused on reading the small text. “Alright then,” Redeemer replied. He set his empty bottle next to his brother before leaving the motel room, letting the door slam as he exited. The only noise now was the ticking of the clock and Cold Case focused on his research. He wound up on the Manehatten Times newspaper archive and began scrolling through various headlines. The city had deaths and murders year round but they were typically ordinary stabbings or shootings. The two brothers had worked many cases in Manehatten over the years and Cold Case smiled every time he saw a headline he recognized. “That one was a ghost…Those were demon attacks…Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that cursed mirror.” Eventually, he came to the headline Redeemer must have seen earlier that day. “Third Victim of Nightmare Night Killer Found Decapitated.” The paper was dated five years ago to the day and had a picture of police carrying a body bag out of the woods. “Police recovered a third body this morning just outside of Manehatten and fear is mounting. The attacks all bear the resemblance of the murders that took place five years ago at the same location. Authorities still have no leads to go on and are working fervently to find the culprit. Witnesses have reported seeing a tall pony-like creature with red eyes in the area. Read more on page A2…” “Five years before this there were more?” Cold Case went to the directory and jumped back five years. Sure enough, October 29th’s headline read, “Death Toll Rises to Five in String of Grisly Murders.” “A mare was found dead this morning and is believed to be the fifth victim of what locals call, Triskaideka, a monstrous stallion whose name derives from its “13” cutie-mark. Investigators still deny the existence of such a creature, claiming the attacks five years ago were that of a rogue timberwolf and this week’s attacks can just as easily be explained.” Cold Case began to see a pattern and brought up the newspapers for every fifth year. Sure enough, going back almost a hundred years, several ponies died in horrific ways right before Nightmare Night. The source of the deaths alternated between murders and animal attacks but the modus operandi was always the same; young healthy ponies torn apart shortly before Nightmare Night, either limbs or organs missing from the autopsies and witness reports of a giant stallion. Eighty years back, on a digital copy of a yellowing newspaper article was the headline, “Colt survives family’s massacre.” Cold Case scrolled through the article slowly and felt he finally had something. “Little Ion Cosmos was the sole survivor after some-pony broke into his parent’s Manehatten home late last night and killed his entire family. His parents were found dead in their bedroom, having suffered from multiple stab wounds and lacerations. Upstairs, the body of Ion’s older sister Nebula was found in the same condition. “Police arrived after the milk-pony informed them he’d found the house’s front door wide open and could hear crying from inside. By that time, the culprit(s) had already made their escape. “Ion was found unharmed but in a state of mental and emotional distress. He told police he’d woken up after hearing his sister scream. Scared, the pony hid under his bed and listened as a set of hooves made its way towards his room. He described to the police a stallion that looked like a stitched up doll with different color fur and big red eyes entered his room and looked around. Just as it was about to look under the bed another pony ran into the room and began shouting. He called the tall one ‘Triskaideka’ and kept yelling until they left. Ion could not describe the other pony but stated the tall stallion was a unicorn with a ‘one-three’ cutie-mark. Perhaps most peculiar was all three of the deceased had their hearts removed from their chests and placed next to them. The hearts were badly damaged from the attacks and possibly left as the killer’s signature. It is possible this case could be linked to the murders five years ago where three mares were all found missing various body parts.” “Are you kidding me? It goes further?” Cold Case went to take a sip from the bottle his brother had left next to him, forgetting it was empty. “Damn it, Deem.” The door swung open and a teary-eyed mare looked outside. “Not another one, look, I’ve already dealt with enough reporters today, so please, just leave us alone.” She went to close the door and Redeemer stopped it with his hoof. “I’m sorry to bother you ma’am but I’m with the FBI.” He held out his badge for the mare to see. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your daughter Libra.” The mare just wiped at her eyes and jerkily nodded her head before admitting him to her home. Redeemer stepped in and looked around. A pile of grievance gifts covered the kitchen table and a large picture of Libra was set in the middle. “What do you need to know?” The mare cleared a spot on the table and offered Redeemer a seat. He sat and she went to pour herself a glass of liquor from an almost empty bottle. “Well, first off, I’m sorry for your loss.” Redeemer watched as the mare emptied her glass and began pouring another. “Do you know if Libra had any enemies? Some-pony that wanted to hurt her? The mare coughed on her drink and looked at Redeemer with wide eyes. “I was told it was an animal attack. Why would you ask such questions?” “We’re just trying to cover all our bases, ma’am.” Redeemer squirmed in his seat nervously. “Oh Celestia,” she put her hoof over her mouth and began sobbing. “Who would do that to her?” She continued sobbing and Redeemer waited for her to calm down. He looked around from his seat and saw an elderly stallion in a wheelchair sitting in the living room. The old timer just stared out the window and breathed heavily with the assistance of oxygen tanks. “Who’s Father Time over there?” Redeemer asked when the mare finally stopped sobbing. The elderly stallion continued to stare out the window and rock back and forth slightly. “That’s Grandpa Ion—my father.” “Is he okay?” “Stroke a few months back. It’s been tough on all of us…and now Libra.” The mare gently sobbed as she emptied her bottle of liquor straight into her mouth. “Ma’am, I understand this is a very rough time for you, I just need to ask you a few more questions.” He waited for her to set the bottle down before continuing. “Have you ever heard of something called Triskaideka?” The elderly stallion began screaming and shouting incoherently at the mention of Triskaideka. His daughter stumbled out of the kitchen as fast as she could to his side. Redeemer walked over and watched as the frightened stallion clutched his daughter and mumbled gibberish. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay dad, it’s okay,” she whispered into his ear. After a few moments he released her and continued to stare out the window and mumble. She turned to Redeemer and glared at him angrily. “Whoa, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he said, putting his hooves up in front of him in defense. “I’d like for you to leave, Agent.” The mare said sternly. She lifted the brake on her father’s wheel chair and began pushing him down the hall. Redeemer just stood there and watched as the stallion was wheeled out of sight. Author's Note Any guesses as to what's going on?
A Bump in the Night“Wow, so you’re, like, a REAL FBI agent?” The young mare looked over Redeemer’s badge, comparing the picture to the handsome brown stallion before her. The bartender brought over Redeemer’s bottle beer and the mare’s tall fruity cocktail. “That’s right,” he said, taking his badge back and grabbing his beer. “I’m here working a case. I was hoping you might be able to help me.” “Is this about Libra and the others?” she asked with concern. “Because I heard those were just animal attacks.” “Is that all you’ve heard?” The mare’s eyes darted around nervously and she took a big sip of her drink. “No,” she said quietly, “I’ve heard it’s the Triskaideka again. It’s what a lot of ponies are saying.” “What is Triskaideka?” Redeemer asked, leaning in close to the mare. She looked at him with wide eyes and took another sip. “It’s like, this big unicorn with glowing red eyes, and he’s really tall, and he cuts ponies up and puts their pelts over his.” She seemed genuinely afraid to talk about the topic and Redeemer put his hoof on hers reassuringly. The mare looked down and smiled. Cold Case was questioning some local stallions across the bar and looked up to see his brother holding the mare’s hoof. “Really, Deem?” he asked under his breath. Redeemer looked over and smiled awkwardly as the mare wrote down her number on a bar napkin. “So what’s FBI wanna know about an urban legend?” One of the stallions Cold Case was questioning sunk his shot and walked away from the pool table. He sat down across from Cold Case and looked at the pictures that were laid out. “Because we’re not sure what else could have done this.” Cold Case watched as the stallion looked over the autopsy photos and grimaced. “Yeah…that’s…yeah.” The stallion couldn’t find any other words to say and continued to stare. Cold Case put the photos back into their manila folders and slipped them into his jacket. “So you think Triskaideka could be real?” the stallion asked, clearing his throat. “We don’t know what to think right now, but why don’t you tell me what you do know?” The stallion looked around and lowered his voice. “The thing’s just an old ghost tale, but I’ve heard it ain’t all made up. Way back, there was this scientist…Crypt Key I think was his name…went crazy after his wife died. “Started doing all these experiments, bringing the dead back to life, ya dig? Story goes; it took him thirteen tries before he got one to stay alive.” “I’m guessing that’s Triskaideka.” “Bingo. Hey, I’m up.” The stallion grabbed his pool stick and approached the pool table. “Thank you for your time,” Cold Case said, patting the stallion on the shoulder, and walking to the bar where his brother continued to flirt with the young mare. “Hey, if you need anything, you call me,” Redeemer said, smiling as the mare got up and joined a group of friends. He turned to look at his brother who was giving him a disapproving look. “You done?” Cold Case asked. “Cause I got a name.” Back at the motel, Redeemer and Cold Case were each doing their own research. Cold Case sat, staring at his laptop, digging up everything he could about Crypt Key. Redeemer poured over his father’s journal trying to find anything on bringing back the dead. “Got it,” Cold Case said at last. He turned the screen toward Redeemer for him to read. On the page was an oil painting of a stallion and mare with mildly happy expressions on their faces. “They look thrilled, “Redeemer commented. “Who’s the mare?” Cold Case turned the screen back towards him. “That would be Crypt Key’s wife Lilium. Says here she died while foaling, and neither she, nor the foal survived.” “Sucks. So this Crypt Key character lost it and resorted to making monsters?” Redeemer asked. “I’m getting to that,” Cold Case replied. “He was the suspect in about twenty murders before the Cosmo killings, but they could never get enough evidence to convict him.” “Manehatten law enforcement for ya,” Redeemer said, taking a sip of his beer. “Go on.” “Those murders weren’t like the ones we’re seeing now. Too clean. I think it took him twenty years to get it right. Once he got Triskaideka up and running, he had it do the dirty work. ” “Okay, so he built thirteen prototypes off of twenty ponies? Why keep killing? He should have had an army by now.” Cold Case turned the screen back towards Redeemer, and now a black and white photo of a mansion engulfed in flames was being displayed. “Crypt Key died in the fire that destroyed his house. If I had to guess, Triskaideka is just running off of its original programming.” “Well it’s gotta be hiding out somewhere on the off years. How much you wanna bet that house had a few hidden underground chambers?” “I’ll get the address.” -v-v-v-v-vv-v-v-vv-v-v-v-v-v-v-vv “That FBI agent was SO hot,” Cream Puff said dreamily. “I can’t believe he gave you his number!” “I know! I should call him right now!” Raspberry said, taking out her cell phone. “Whoa, haven’t you heard of the three day rule?” Cream Puff’s coltfriend Frosty asked. Raspberry looked at her phone hesitantly. “Ohhh, but I want to at least have a hook up for Nightmare Night!” Cream Puff nabbed her friend’s phone before she could hit dial, and put it in her purse. “Trust me, you’ll have one by the time tonight’s over.” “Are there going to be a lot of ponies at this party?” Raspberry asked as they made their way to the edge of the city. A cold breeze swept a wave of leaves out of the forest. Raspberry looked into the woods nervously then back to her friends. “The party is out there?” “Yeah, there’s gonna be bonfires and booze and lots of stallions,” Cream Puff said seductively. She gave Raspberry a little push and led her down the dirt path. Frosty grinned and put his hoof around his marefriend’s neck, and whispered something into her ear. Twigs crunched somewhere in the darkness and Raspberry tried to stop, but her friends pushed her on. “Keep moving, we’re almost there,” Cream Puff assured her. “Isn’t this near where Libra—” “No, we’re not going that far in,” Frosty interrupted. They continued on into the darkened forest with strange rustling noises all around them. Cream Puff whispered something to Frosty and he nodded. They slowed their pace and let Raspberry continue on. “I thought you said we were almost there…hello?” Raspberry turned to see she was now alone in the darkness. Strange noises emerged from the trees and dark shapes moved all around her. “Aaaaaaaaah!” A scream echoed in the distance. Raspberry recognized it as Cream Puff’s voice, and she ran up the path toward where she thought she’d heard it. She burst into a clearing by a lake and saw her friend lying on the ground, covered in blood. “Cream Puff! No!” Raspberry shouted, running toward her friend. Something stepped into the clearing behind her, and she turned to see Triskaideka clumsily making its way out of some bushes. Raspberry screamed as the giant stallion trotted towards her. “Roaaar!” the creature bellowed. A meat cleaver suspended in a yellow aura swung at Raspberry and she fell to the ground. As she lay quivering with her hooves over her eyes, she heard a snicker. She peeked out to see the creature was laughing at her. And then she heard more laughter from behind her. “That was too funny,” Cream Puff said, standing up and wiping tears and fake blood from her eyes. Raspberry’s face turned a brighter red and she began shaking with anger. “That was mean!” she shouted, pushing her friend angrily. Frosty and several other ponies emerged from the woods and joined in the laughter. “Lighten up Rasp, look, the parties here!” Frosty said, indicating to the other laughing ponies. “No! I’m going home!” Raspberry shouted. She turned, but the fake Triskaideka was blocking her path. Several flashlights now shone on it, and she realized just how fake the costume was. “Come on, lighten up,” the actor said, teetering around on his elevated horseshoes. He levitated the mask off his face to smile at Raspberry. She let out a scream and turned to run from the actor. Before he could question why, his head was lobbed off by one swift swing of a machete. The real Triskaideka walked into the clearing and glared at the gathering with its piercing red eyes. The gathering of youth dispersed out into the woods, all screaming as they fled for their lives. The monstrous stallion was too fast for most, and trampled its prey before hacking wildly with its machete. Raspberry listened to the screams of her friends behind her, but kept running regardless. All too soon, she was lost in the woods, and ended up running circles in the darkness. She heard a scream to her left and watched as Triskaideka bore down on Frosty and began goring him with its horn. It stopped to look at her, blood dripping down its horn and onto its patched face. Frosty gurgled and his hooves flailed in the air, trying to ward off his attacker. The creature then turned back to finish the kill. Raspberry took the opportunity to run, but she found herself going back to the clearing. Bodies littered the forest floor and scavengers were already coming out for the free meal. Only, what she thought was a wolf looked distinctly pony shaped and it worked hurriedly on one of the corpses. Raspberry heard the creature muttering as it pulled entrails out and placed them into a container. She stared for a moment before a machete swung inches from her head. “Run!” a voice shouted. One of the stallions from the group smashed into the creature as it was about to behead the mare. Triskaideka didn’t even budge, and the stallion began back stepping from the mistake he’d made. “Yeah, you want a piece of me?!” the stallion shouted with false bravado. Raspberry bolted in the opposite direction as the monster began chasing the brave stallion instead. She tripped and landed in something warm only to find it was the blood of Cream Puff. Her face was to hers, and an expression of true fear had been frozen in place. Her purse was still on her side and Raspberry fished through it frantically. Redeemer’s number was still dialed into her cell phone. She pushed call and held the device to her head. She sobbed quietly as it began ringing and she prayed he would pick up. “We gotta get out while we’re young “’Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to ruuuuuun!” The Spruce Springsteam hit played from somewhere in the distance, and Raspberry looked around in confusion. “Hello?” the gruff voice of Redeemer came through the speaker and from somewhere a short distance away. The beam of a flashlight passed by Raspberry and landed on Cream Puff’s corpse. Raspberry stood up and began waving her hooves frantically. “Please help! They’re all dead!” Raspberry begged. She galloped towards the two and collapsed into tears at their hooves. “Deem, isn’t that the mare from the bar?” Cold Case asked. Redeemer looked at his cell phone and ended the call. “Raspberry, what the HELL are you doing out here?” he asked, looking down at the quivering pile of pony. “Deem!” Cold Case shouted just in time for his brother to duck the swinging machete blade. They both turned and began firing their pistols into the creature. Their bullets sunk into its flesh and a thick black substance dribbled out of the holes. The creature didn’t so much as flinch as it walked through their fire toward them. Its red eyes fixed on Raspberry. “Get her out of here!” Redeemer shouted. “I’m not leaving you here!” Cold Case shouted back. They continued firing into Triskaideka’s skull until their weapons clicked empty. “Now, Cold Case!” Redeemer shouted, switching to his knife. Reluctantly, Cold Case got Raspberry off the ground and carried her back to the path. Triskaideka’s gaze followed the mare until she was out sight, and then it turned to Redeemer. “Yeah, just you and me now,” Redeemer said, adjusting his grip on the knife. Triskaideka levitated the machete at the ready and took a step forward. It swung the machete, but Redeemer managed to duck under it and stab his knife into Triskaideka’s chest. The machete got lodged into an oak tree and the creature resorted to swinging its powerful legs. Redeemer had the wind knocked out of him as the creature’s hoof struck his chest and sent him flying backwards. It put its head down and charged at him. He rolled to avoid the attack and stood back up as it was making another round. He sidestepped the charging stallion and hopped onto its back. The threads holding its pelt together began to tear under the pressure of Redeemer as it ran. With a sickening rip, a section of stitched pelt slid off the creature’s muscles. Redeemer tumbled to the ground with the pelt still in his hooves. The grotesque monstrosity stood over Redeemer with its muscular system partially exposed. Black fluids were still leaking from the bullet holes the brothers had put into it. It put its horn to Redeemer’s chest and began applying pressure. He screamed as the horn tore slowly into his flesh. He put his hooves up to try to stop it. Triskiadeka’s face slid beneath his hooves and ripped completely off. The muscles of its face made it appear to be smiling as it bore down on him, and its eyes never blinked. “Hey!” Cold Case shouted. The creature looked up and caught buckshot between the eyes. Its skull cracked and bits of brain began to leak out. Another shot collided with its torso and the ribcage and several organs became exposed. Still the creature stood resolute, staring with a single red eye. Cold Case tried to reload the shotgun, but the creature turned and bucked him into a tree. He fell to the ground next to his brother and gasped for air. Triskaideka stood over them as if it was contemplating what to do next. “What’s it waiting for?” Redeemer asked. He continued applying pressure to his wound which was now soaking his jacket in blood. The creature snorted, sending a spray of blackish red fluids all over the ground before turning its back to them. It wandered off into the darkness, leaving the two brothers alone.
ScapegoatCold Case supported his brother as they limped out of the woods to where Raspberry was waiting. She paced nervously and kept glancing around every time a tree branch so much as rustled. When the two emerged, she ran towards them and began sobbing uncontrollably. “They’re dead! They’re all dead!” she cried. Sirens began wailing and red and blue flashing lights could be seen in the distance. “You didn’t call the cops, did you?” Redeemer asked. “Well yeah, what else was I supposed to do?” “We gotta make this quick,” Cold Case said. “Is there anything, and I mean ANYTHING, you can tell us about what happened?” “Because the cops ain’t gonna believe anything you tell them,” Redeemer added, inspecting his wound. The horn hadn’t gone deep enough to puncture anything important. “I saw another pony!” Raspberry shouted after babbling incoherently. “It-it-it was gutting my friends, and it-it-it was—” She broke down into another series of incoherent gibberish. Redeemer gave her a firm shake, but she only started to sob harder. “Deem, we gotta go,” Cold Case said as the police cars came into view. “We were never here,” Redeemer said to Raspberry, holding her close to his face before letting her go. Together, the brothers jumped into their parked car, and with tires squealing, raced away. “That thing is evil, man,” Redeemer said as he drove the vehicle away from the crime scene. “I think we’re dealing with some dark magic or something.” “Yeah, there ain’t much else that can tank a headshot.” Once back at the motel, Redeemer threw off his blood soaked jacket and began tending to his wound. “So you think some pony may have picked up Crypt Key’s little “Franken-Hoof” project?” “It’s possible,” Cold Case replied, wrapping bandages around his own torso. “We’re gonna have to get back out to those woods tomorrow, and see if there’s anything left of that old house.” “Place is gonna be crawling with cops.” Redeemer winced as he poured high proof alcohol on his wound. He took a swig from the bottle then fished through his jacket for something. When he found it, he tossed it at Cold Case. “What the Hell is this?” Cold Case asked in disgust, holding up the tattered scrap of fur. “Part of the thing’s face. I want you to take it to the coroner in the morning; see if it matches any of the vics,” Redeemer replied, plopping down on his bed. Within minutes he was asleep. Cold Case sat down in front his laptop, and began going over the newspaper articles again. After a few hours, he found himself dozing off. A beep from his laptop awoke him and he rubbed his, trying to get them to focus. A new article had been posted and a notification noise had gone off. Cold Case refreshed the page and the October 30th issue of the Manehatten Times appeared on the screen. Officers Gun Down Nightmare Night Killer Late last night, police responded to a frantic 911 call that detailed a masked stallion with a machete, just outside the city border; the same location as the previous night’s attacks. When officers arrived, they could not locate the 911 caller or any other survivors. After an hour long search, police encountered a suspect matching the description they’d received over the phone. The suspect approached police wielding a weapon, and did not respond to verbal warnings. Officers opened fire and brought the suspect down. Read more on A2… Below the text was a picture of police bagging up a cheap Triskaideka mask that was covered in blood. Sheriff Alcatraz stood at the back of the photo, looking quite pleased. Cold Case started getting bad vibes from the article. What happened to Raspberry? She was standing right there when the police showed up. And the stallion in the costume was dead when they arrived; decapitated—not shot. Looks like Alcatraz needed a scapegoat to make himself look good to the public. Cold Case clicked on the next page. The article stated seven bodies were found, but none matched Raspberry’s description. There was nothing about a huge chunk of pony pelt being found either. He debated if he should wake his brother, but there wasn’t really much they could do. They’d have to wait until morning before they could question the police. --V—v—V-- “Is everything alright, Agent?” The coroner had been running back and forth between eight corpses when Cold Case made his way down the stairs. “You appear as though you’re in pain.” He gave Cold Case a quick prod in the chest, and he almost fell to his knees. “Yeah don’t do that!” Cold Case said quickly and painfully. “Bar fight last night, think I may have a cracked rib.” “Huh, crazy life you FBI live,” the coroner said, stepping back to his work. “I’m surprised you’re here. You are aware the case has been solved, correct?” “I’m not so sure,” Cold Case said, grabbing a pair of gloves. He looked over the eight bodies, and none of them were Raspberry’s. “Which one is Triskaideka?” “That’d be this stallion,” the coroner led him to a corpse that had freshly been cut open. “Cause of death: one bullet to the heart. Most normal death I’ve seen all week.” Cold Case looked at the stallion and could see no other trauma to the body; all the organs were intact. “Did we get an ID?” “Yep,” the coroner replied. “Say hello to Booker Bronze. The sheriff tells me he was a rookie to the force.” “Wait, he’s a cop?” “Was a cop, and yes.” “Isn’t he a bit young? These murders have been going on nearly a hundred years, and the colt barely looks a day over eighteen.” “There have been several odd deaths over the years, but I hardly think they’re all connected. We do know that this week’s crimes were the product of this stallion.” The coroner spoke smugly, and waited for Cold Case to reply. Cold Case reached into his jacket pocket and removed a plastic bag. Inside was the piece Triskaideka’s face his brother had gotten the night before. The coroner looked at it, trying to figure out what it was. “What have you there?” he asked. “Just something I need you to analyze,” Cold Case replied. “Just let me know how many ponies it’s made up of and how old each section is. Maybe then you’ll see a connection.” The coroner’s face went white as he took the sample. “Um, I’ll have the results in a few hours…where…where did you get this?” “From the crime scene—seems the cops weren’t very thorough with their investigation.” Without another word, Cold Case left the morgue and went to meet his brother at the police station. The black sports car was parked out front, and Redeemer sat with the seat reclined and his hooves on the steering wheel. “What’s up? You waiting for me?” Cold Case asked as he approached the car. “No, I’m waiting on our buddy Al. Receptionist said he ain’t in today, but that’s his car right there.” Redeemer pointed at a well-maintained, black, antique car that was parked in the front row. It stood out from the surrounding vehicles; predating them by many years. Cold Case glanced at the complex and saw the blinds of one of the offices snap shut. “Yeah, something ain’t right here,” he said, looking back to his brother. “No kidding,” he replied. “So what’d the coroner have?” “Anxiety mostly,” Cold Case answered with a laugh. “Eight bodies is a lot for one coroner.” “So any idea who the scapegoat was?” “Yeah, it was a cop,” Cold Case replied. Redeemer’s jaw dropped and he sat upright in his seat. “This whole thing stinks,” he said, taking out his gun. “I’m gonna go get some answers.” Cold Case kept his weight against the door so his brother couldn’t get out. “Rushing a police station with a gun probably isn’t the best way to do that.” Redeemer settled back into his seat and holstered his gun. “They stick a dead cop in a costume while that THING is still out there? Are they that concerned about their public appearance, or are they trying to protect it?” “There isn’t much we can do in broad daylight,” Cold Case said, opening the passenger door and climbing inside the car. “We can poke around those woods some more though.” “Yeah, maybe now that it’s light out we can find that damn house foundation.”
Scene of the CrimeRedeemer walked through the forest holding out a small device with lights and an antenna. He swung it slowly back and forth and it made a low frequency hum, barely audible over the rustling of leaves. Occasionally one of the lights would light up and the hum would change pitch and Redeemer would stop to listen. After a few moments, the light would always fade and the stallion would resume walking. “I don’t know, Deem, I think we can rule out vengeful spirits.” Cold Case kicked a pinecone as he kept pace with his brother. Redeemer shook the device angrily before putting it in his jacket pocket. They continued walking through the woods and came across an area heavily sanctioned off with police tape. “Looks like we found lover’s point,” Redeemer said, crossing into the clearing. He stood and looked out over the lake as a breeze rippled the surface. The oak tree nearest him was covered with the initials of lovers from across the years and he bent down to read them. In the center of all the carvings was a large heart with “CK+L FOREVER” painstakingly engraved deep into the tree’s trunk. It was easily a hundred years old and likely the first thing carved into the tree. “I’ve got something down here.” Cold Case held aside some bushes and waited for his brother to pass in front of him. Redeemer pushed through the undergrowth into a smaller clearing. A large pool of dried blood stained the forest floor and the two lowered their heads to examine it. “I don’t smell any sulfur…but…there is something.” Redeemer wrinkled his nose at the smell. “Gah, that stinks.” Cold Case took a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah, I smell it too. It’s kinda familiar, but you’re right, it isn’t sulfur, so I think we can rule out demons.” “I hate dealing with them black-eyed freaks anyway,” Redeemer grumbled. “Wait. Do you hear that?” Cold Case perked his ears up. Both stallions held their breath to listen and a muffled whining could be heard over the sounds of nature. “I think it’s coming from you,” Cold Case said, tracing the sound to his brother. Redeemer patted his jacket and fished his EMF reader out of his pocket. “I musta forgot to shut it off,” he said, holding it down to the ground. The lights lit up red and the whining grew higher in pitch. “Looks like we may have restless spirits after all.” He held the device up and the signal’s strength weakened. It spiked again after he brought back to the dried blood. The two stallions got on their knees and began rustling though the blood covered pine needles and leaves. “You think something’s buried here?” Cold Case asked after they had completely exposed the ground and still the device whined. “Only one way to find out,” Redeemer replied, moving a pile of dirt with his hooves. A black electrical wire lay less than an inch from the surface and became exposed. “Bah, so much for that.” He stood up and brushed himself off, the EMF reader continuing its incessant call. “Hold on, what’s this even doing out here?” Cold Case grabbed the wire and yanked upward. Several feet of the wire surfaced, leading further into the woods. The brothers looked to each other then back to the ground. “Guess we’ll find out.” An hour of excavating led the two to a rundown shack in a remote part of the forest. Redeemer let the wire fall and looked at the place skeptically. “Place doesn’t even look like it has electricity.” He walked up to a foggy window and put his face against the glass. Inside were a few pieces of broken furniture and dozens of empty glass bottles. “Hooves where I can see ‘em, boys.” The gruff voice’s command was immediately followed by the sound of a hammer being cocked. Redeemer and Cold Case turned to see a large uniformed unicorn stallion levitating a pistol at them. “What are you two doing out here?” “I’m, uh, Special Agent Springsteam,” Redeemer said, slowly reaching into his pocket for his badge. “I said hooves where I can see ‘em!” The officer pointed the gun at Redeemer and took a step forward. Redeemer swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his hooves back into the air. The officer slowly approached the two and reached into Redeemer’s jacket. “The Hell is this thing?” he asked, pulling out the EMF detector. “That’s my scanner. Damned thing doesn’t get any service out here.” Redeemer chuckled nervously. The officer flipped it over until he found the power switch and went back to digging through his suspect’s pockets. When he finally found the badge he held it up to confirm the photo was really of the stallion before him. “Spruce Springsteam? Like the singer, right?” “Yeah, I get that a lot, ha ha.” The officer turned to Cold Case and pointed the gun at him. “And who’s he? Meat Loaf?” “Freed Mercury, actually.” “Ah, that was my next guess.” The officer sheathed his gun and returned Redeemer’s badge. “So tell me, agents, what brings you two out here?” “We’re investigating the murders that happened—” “Whoa whoa whoa, weren’t no murders out here, just animal attacks. Ain’t you read the papers?” “It’s not in our job description to trust what we read, sir.” “And I’ve already spoken with the coroner, last I checked, animals didn’t wield machetes.” The officer took his hat off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Look, I’m just trying to keep the ponies calm during the celebrations. I’m Sheriff Alcatraz, if I can help you with this investigation, just let me know.” “Tell me, Al, has anything like this happened before? You know, string of gruesome deaths right around Nightmare Night?” Redeemer asked, finally back on offense. The sheriff groaned and rolled his eyes. “Are you really gonna question me about that silly Triskaideka myth?” “The Trisca-who-now?” “Tris-kai-dek-a, “the sheriff annunciated. “It’s just a story that mares tell to keep their little ponies out of the woods during Nightmare Night. “Haven’t heard it. Wanna enlighten me?” “I haven’t got time for this. I have REAL police work to do. Good day to you, agents.” The sheriff huffed away from the two and disappeared in a grove of pine trees. “Well, looks like we know where to start,” Cold Case said, stepping forward. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he turned to look back in the shack. “Something up?” Redeemer asked, nudging his brother. “No, no. Just thought I saw something.”
