The Mysterious Case of the Pinecone Killer (Revised Edition)

4

It was almost time. I trotted to the entrance of the forsaken woods where the killer lay. Nothing moved that night; not even the wind. The sky was lightless: there was no moon nor stars to brighten the path to the Everfree Forest. The clouds covered the entire sky like a menacing fog, threatening to swallow up the entire world. They rumbled ever so slightly and began to cry their tears. But I stood tall and brave, and rushed into the heart of the darkness blindly. I ran forward, not knowing where I would arrive, if I would arrive anywhere at all. I ran deeper inside the depths of the woods and I lost all of my senses. I was blind, deaf, and mute. I couldn't feel the coarse dirt on my hooves anymore. I was merely a spirit running in a dark void of space, and all I knew was to keep running.

This running, for some reason, reminded me of some sad memory. I didn’t know why, but I began to cry. I galloped faster and faster, but something deep inside me told me that I wouldn’t be able to make it. Memories began to return: I saw myself running through the snow with tears on my face. But, why?

Then I heard the faint beats of my heart. They continued to beat with every stride I took, hoof by hoof. The sounds grew louder and louder, faster and faster. I couldn't tell how fast time was passing, only that I was accelerating through it.

Lightning boomed above me. The amazing light flashed in front of my eyes or a split second, and I could only see white. I wandered through the forest, this time blinded by the light. I stumbled off the dirt and into the wilderness. I ran through the dense weeds and thorn bushes, still only seeing white. As my sight returned, the world around me became visible. I looked up at the heavens, and there was a ring in the sky without clouds; the eye of the storm. In the center of the ring was the full moon and the stars dancing around it. Everything around me became so clear, illuminated by the intense lights.

I looked down to the land below it and spotted a small wooden shack in the clearing. A sliver of golden light shone through its small boarded windows. Something deep in my heart convinced me that this was the lair of the beast known as the Pinecone Killer. I approached the shack and immediately felt the presence of the putrid stench of blood hovering around the atmosphere. Bones of ponies and other creatures littered the muddy yard like a overturned graveyard. I trotted up to the door with my head high. There was no place to hide inside the small shack, and I knew that the killer was right behind this door. I would see him right away and then take my revenge. I didn't hesitate and bucked the door off its hinges.

The door was smashed to bits, and I immediately rushed inside to see who the killer was.

“Come out killer!”

Nopony answered.

The room was empty, except for the small rectangular table in the center of the room. I cautiously approached it, half expecting for it to be a trap. I took steps hoof-by-hoof, floor squeaking with every movement. The walls were painted red with streaks of what seemed to be blood. On the center of the table was a golden pocket-watch. I lifted it and flipped the cover open.

Inside was a small photograph of myself with Annabelle. T-This was mine! She gave this to me for our engagement! How could I forget about this? But, why is it here? Wait. No. I remember! I remember everything.

The watch rang once, signaling midnight simultaneously with a flash of lightning. Everything became so clear. Then, in horror, I realized that the streaks on the walls were words written in my hoofwriting. They repeated themselves a thousand times in blood: "You are the killer." The repressed memories in my weak mind blossomed in a overwhelming surge of truth.

There I stood, above Fluttershy's butchered corpse, without a hint of remorse for the things I've done. My 'magic' abilities were as fake as Trixie's. These visions were only the memories of the crimes I've committed and nothing more. Her face was frozen in a demented expression of true fear. The griffon was too late to save her, same as every other pony who couldn't save the ones they loved. I released the restraints binding her to the table and stuffed her body into a bag. I really thought that she'd live. Gilda was close. I threw the bag with the others in the pile.

Even after all these years, I couldn't find the one - the one true friendship. None of these ponies were strong enough, brave enough, or willing enough to go the distance in order to save their loved ones. I asked myself: why do this? Was it really to prove that true love doesn't exist? Or was it to rid myself of the guilt from Annabelle's death? I loved her so much, yet my love was unable to save her. I wanted to know: can love save anypony? Or was I foolish in believing that I do anything at all to save her?

I saw my other conscious, oblivious to my presence. Nopony ever expected me, the good investigator, to be the killer. It was the perfect crime. I stared down at Gilda and laughed, for she was depressed beyond her limit. The only pony that'd ever love her was now gone, all because of her. I'd give her a week before she’d kill herself, like the rest.

I wanted to ask her so many questions. How does it feel like to lose the one you love? How does it feel like to know that you were the only one she depended on; that their life was completely in your claws? How does it feel like to know that she will never come back? It took all my strength to not laugh at her there and then.

I stood by the edge of the forest next to a bonfire and holding Gilda's journal. I read through every article, reliving every single experience. None of those ponies could prove their worth. I tore out each page and tossed it into the flames. The pages shriveled up and disintegrated into ashes. Not even one pony could show me what true friendship was; not one! On the last page was the same note and sentence I wrote to every one of those ponies. Sometimes, it was written in blood of their beloved: "How far would you go, to save the one you love?" I gave them three whole days, no more and no less. Nopony has ever passed the tests, and nopony has ever survived.

The journal disappeared from my hoof and was replaced by a light blue mane. I held Trixie high up on the cliff, half-stunned by the blows to her skull, but she still well alive. I let go and frowned as she fell into the trees. She was now nothing more than a red smudge on the earth.
I've decided this was how I must reveal myself and the truth. Luckily, my other self was investigating Trixie, the pathetic mare that nopony would care about. Her death would be meaningless in the world, as long as the truth of her innocence was hidden away. I didn't even have to cover my trails or make an excuse. There was absolutely nopony who loved her even remotely.

Well, except for Twilight Sparkle. That note I wrote to her three days ago? It was ignored. Oh Trixie, only if you knew the truth. Twilight never loved you - she pitied you, nothing more. Why did you cling so desperately onto such foolishness as hope?

It's so easy to hate somepony, especially when everypony else does. This was Trixie's life. She has never done any wrong in her life; instead, it was the injustice of the world that was stacked against that that made her into the mare she was. How could she have a friend, when she was a monster by the eyes of society? This is what ponies do, being only evil and selfish beings. They say they love, but when faced with death they cower away pathetically. No love exists in the world.

The memories rolled in reverse once more. This time, it flew back before all the pain and suffering began; the time when my Annabelle was still alive.

The clouds above us were pure white, like a newborn bunny's cotton tail. The Trottingham snow fell lightly, and we embraced each other for warmth. I stood next to Annabelle, who was at this time barely entering the years of her mareness. We had been young lovers, deep in the infatuation of our youthfulness and innocent years. She and I were inseparable, and it was no surprise that were were fated to be wed. However, this would be the last time we were together before I left for the war.

She cried as I boarded the train. "Don't leave me alone."

The train started its engines and let out a cloud of black smog.

"It'll only be a few years." I promised her. "I love you."

"Please, be careful."

I let go of her hoof and the train accelerated into the blizzard. I rode the train into the front lines of the battlefield. Fighting was a daily ordeal that was unavoidable. Every night, we would count off the remaining men, and the numbers would always grow smaller. It was terrible, knowing that I might not wake up one day to see my home again. The cannons exploded above our shallow bunkers, and there was no doubt that we were all afraid.

But everypony asked me, "Why do you smile?"

"Her." I would show them my golden pocket-watch and the picture inside of Annabelle, my fiance. "Someday, I'll go home to see her."

The war progressed, becoming bloodier every year fought. But in the last raid, on the day I was supposed to return home, our squad was reported dead. I was the only one that managed to survive, but just barely. The captain, my brother in arms, lunged at the last possible second to take the magic bolt into his chest for me. When I managed to return to camp, everypony had left without me. I was a dead pony, as far as anypony knew. I wandered aimlessly through the foreign land, hiding among the enemies who would have executed me without remorse if they knew who I was. Four years passed, and I managed to escape.

For every single day in those four years, I counted every sunrise as I thought of Annabelle. I never lost hope that we would be together again. The thought of us together in each other's hooves was the only motivation to live.

I stepped off the train. I was home. The snow fell, just like it had when I left seven years ago. Everything seemed to be exactly the same as I remembered: the post office, the bakery, and the park. I galloped to the door of my house, which hadn't faded a bit in the years. It brought a calming sensation, returning to an unchanged home untouched by the horrors of the war. I prepared to present myself to her. It'd been a long time, but I still remembered her warmth and the fragrance of her sweet perfume. I still loved her dearly.

I raised my hoof, ready to knock, but the door creaked open. I stepped inside cautiously. A Hearth's Warming tree and ornaments decorated the room from bottom to top. There were, after all, only three more days until Hearth's Warming Day. I wandered around the house, remembering all the familiar squeaks of each floorboard. Everything was like I remembered, until I heard a strange noise from above. I climbed the spiral staircase up to the door of the bedroom. I slowly placed my hoof on the knob and pushed the door open.

"Belle, Belle?" I stood, shocked and facing our bed. Under the covers was her small body, and on top of her was a stallion.

She gasped in disbelief when she saw me, and let out a loud moan as the mounted stallion rode her.

I couldn't grasp what was happening. I ran out of the building, ignoring her pleas for me to stay. I denied what I'd seen. I wouldn't believe what she was doing with that stallion. She tracked me down to the old inn a little ways from the town. I sat in the room against the locked door, and refused to speak to her. On the other side, she cried and pleaded for my forgiveness. Three days passed, exactly three days, and she returned in front of the door with every sunrise.

But I was silent. For three days straight, I hid myself in the little inn while listening to the ticks of my golden watch.

I decided to revisit my private office late that night. It was an hour until midnight on Hearth's Warming Eve. I filed through the yellowing papers and the dusty cabinets. I immediately froze when I found the pink letters written by Annabelle to me when we were once young. I read through them, one by one, crying as each one tore a hole in my already broken heart. I stood up and held my head high. I hoofed myself twice for my stupidity. I loved her. I realized that no matter what that I would love her. Those blissful memories of the past with her weren't illusions or lies. Even after everything that has happened, she was the same Annabelle I loved, and I knew that she truly loved me.

I ran through the city in the darkness to our house. I swore I wouldn't miss another Hearth's Warming Day without her. There was still time! My watch seemed to tick faster, with minutes passing in seconds. The snow froze my hooves and the wind pierced through my coat, but my love for her was eternal and burning passionately for her. I finally reached the door, with only a second left, and opened it.

I was just in time to see her body falling from the banister of the second story, with a rope of decorative ivy and pinecones tied around her neck. My watch struck twelve. I heard the sound of something snap, but the banisters weren’t what was broken. Her body hung limply from the rope, neck bleeding from the sharp spiked scales of the pinecones.

A note was stuck between her hoof. I pulled it out and I shook uncontrollably as I read it.

"To my little soldier,
There is no excuse that I make can which can clear away the shame of what I've done. Guilt has become a monster that tears me apart from the very depths of my soul. The pain I've caused you is unacceptable - and I can no longer live like this anymore. I'm sorry... I’m so sorry."

The next lines were rendered unreadable by tears. I skipped to the last words, still wet from fresh ink.

"Please, if you're reading this, never stop believing in love.

- Until death, and well after, your’s forever, Belle."

That is when I, the Pinecone Killer, was born. I was created out of the depths of depression and deceit. I couldn't accept that she was gone, so all the memories and pain of love were locked away forever. I had to lie to myself. I wasn't strong enough, and I'm still not strong enough to face the truth. If I was just a second faster she wouldn't have died. The truth is that I killed her. I didn't want to believe that I killed her. But that's why I was born, to be a substitute in order to hide myself from this truth.

So, the killer and I are one of the same. I saw the truth, and was destroyed by it. I let the darkness, the guilt of my memories, possess my body. Innocence died and the detective you knew is gone; the killer won.

I quietly closed the lid to the pocket-watch. I gazed off the golden reflection to see the red-eyed beast before me. This is who I truly am, and my question still remains. "How far would you go, to save the one you love?" I still desired for truth, if there was one at all. I wanted to know if there was a pony in all of Equestria who could become the image of the pony I never was.

I threw aside the table to reveal a hatch that lead underground. The basement was damp and dark, except for the lamp directed at the mint green pony strapped to the table. There was a sink in the corner, rusted from the blood that drained through its pipes. I grabbed a bloodied knife off the floor and checked my watch once more.

Twelve o’ clock.