Bullet Point

Chapters

C1: Conscientious Objectors
C1: The Art Of Deduction
C1: All Rise
C2: Live Happy Or Die Free
C2: Closed Room Murder
C2: Truth Will Out
C3: On The Trail We Blaze
C3: Trial By Fire
C4: The Missing Link
C4: Manhunt
C4: Double Jeopardy
C5: The Eleventh Hour
C5: Mind Over Master
C5: The Games We Play
Epilogue: Game Over
Prologue: Let The Games Begin
C3: Master Key
Press X To Continue

C1: Conscientious Objectors

Day 1, 12:20

Time seemed to have come to a standstill, as every pony in the room stared at the now open door with barely disguised apprehension. The Mastermind’s words were still ringing in their heads, even though the screen had now reverted to its blank format. Occasionally their eyes would dart to another pony in the room, each one conveying the same unspoken message… Will they try to kill me?

“Oh for the love of…” cried out a voice, pulling everypony from their silent accusation to instead stare in surprise at the sky blue Pegasus with the shock of yellow mane. “This is ridiculous! There’s no axe wielding maniac waiting for us out there, but if you’re all too baby then I’ll go first!”

With that gallant statement she stormed forward, trying very hard to keep her face steely and determined. When she reached the door she stopped ever so briefly as if wishing somepony would call out and take her place. When none did, she gave a small swallow and stepped firmly through the threshold.

What had they really been expecting? Certainly at the mention of axe wielding maniacs they had realised what a silly notion their trepidation had been, but none the less they all released a collective sigh of relief when the mare turned to face them, a triumphant smirk on her face. The next few seconds consisted of the rest of the group funnelling out of the dining room into a spacious corridor before semi intentionally forming a circle and looking around at one another, as if sizing each other up.

“Well that was downright idiotic of you,” Trixie chastised the Pegasus, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had risen. “But then I wouldn’t expect any less of an airhead Pegasus.”

“Hey!” She snapped back, “Watch it missy, you’re talkin’ to the one and only Lightning Dust here!”

A small beeping encouraged Twilight and Pinkie as well a few others to glance down at their hoof computers, which were now displaying a new screen, this one showed a digital image of the Pegasus as well as a table of text, detailing some basic physical information. The whole thing was headed by the line: Lightning Dust, Daredevil.

“You say that like Trixie is supposed to have heard of you,” Trixie replied smugly. This statement resulted in another wave of beeps and a new image appearing on everypony’s screens, this one showing Trixie with the heading: Trixie, Showmare.

“You’re one to talk Miss Third Person!” Lightning retorted, earning a dark glare from Trixie.

“Um, please don’t fight,” a timid voice spoke out, one that would have been missed entirely if Trixie had opened her mouth again. Instead everypony turned to see the small Earth Pony Twilight and Pinkie knew from their trip to Manehattan.

Coco Pommel, Fashion Designer.

“Yeah,” Soarin agreed, “if we’re gonna get out of here, we can’t start turning on each other.” His sagely comment was followed by another series of beeps.

Soarin, Wonderbolt.

“Very well,” Trixie replied in a much more civil manner, “Trixie was merely attempting to make it clear to… Lightning, how utterly foolish it is to just storm through a door that only opened at the command of a mysterious psychopath who wants us to kill each other, without at least checking for traps first.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mom!” Lightning spat back, turning away from Trixie, who did the same while turning her nose in the air.

“That doesn’t seem right at all,” the unnaturally tall and skinny unicorn chipped in thoughtfully, a hint of a Prance accent hidden by her upper class tone, “this… Mastermind, wishes us to kill each other as part of their game. They would surely find little amusement in watching us die any other way.”

Fleur Dis Lee, Noble.

“Finally, somepony of intelligence within this group of dullards,” Blueblood moaned, earning him some angry glares, even a withering look from Fleur herself.

Prince Blueblood, Noble.

“Ignoring that,” Braeburn said dismissively, “I think that little lady had the right idea, we should be working together if we’re gonna get outta here!”

Braeburn, Apple Farmer.

“Actually, I said tha…” Soaring began before being cut off.

“Do any of you really believe for a shecond that that Mashtermind is jusht going to let ush leave?” Asked the scrawny stallion wearing the glasses and bow tie, his lisp made all the more prominent by the copious amounts of spittle he sprayed upon speaking.

Gizmo, Tinkerer.

“Ugh! Say it, don’t spray it!” Cloudchaser replied in a disgusted voice, putting as much distance between herself and Gizmo as possible.

Cloudchaser…

“Escort!” All the stallions exclaimed at once, staring in disbelief at their screens.

“Yeah,” Cloudchaser responded with a slight giggle, “a girl’s gotta pay the rent somehow.”

“Put ‘em away boys,” Redheart said in a disgruntled tone.

Redheart, Nurse.

“Oh sorry,” Trenderhoof said nervously, while noticeably crossing his hind legs.

Trenderhoof, Writer.

“But yes, in answer to your question,” he continued pointing to Gizmo, “I believe that while the Mastermind will try to stop us, we can overcome them if we put our heads together. Especially, if I might add, with the help of an Alicorn Princess.”

Twilight blushed as everyone’s eyes turned to her. “I’ll try my best,” she said awkwardly, saved from the penetrating stares by the round of beeps signally her own information being displayed on everypony else’s hoof computers.

“Yeah!” Pinkie exclaimed, throwing a hoof around Twilight’s shoulder and talking over her own beeps. “Twilight and I have saved Equestria a bunch of times, this will be easy peasy.”

“Yeah, if there’s anypony who can help us out of this mess, it’s Twilight Sparkle,” Doughnut Joe chipped in in a gruff voice.

Doughnut Joe, Doughnut Maker.

“Ahem.” Vinyl said noticeably.

Vinyl Scratch, DJ.

“There, now that we’ve all been introduced,” she continued with a smirk, “What are we actually going to do?”

“Well,” Fleur began in the same thoughtful tone, her eyes closed giving her face a serene quality, “we should probably start by exploring this mansion, both for weak points and, presuming we do have to spend some time here, the living faculties.”

“Why do we need to do that?” Cloudchaser asked, “What’s stopping us from walking out the front door?”

“I think it’s safe to say there will be a magical barrier of sorts,” Fleur explained, her eyes still closed, “hence I think it would be best for Princess Twilight to check the perimeter. Would you object to that your highness?”

Twilight was completely thrown off, both by the request and the gaze Fleur turned on her as she made her request. Those pale violet eyes were mesmeric, hypnotic almost.

“O… of course I will,” Twilight stammered, vaguely aware of how un-princess like she must have just appeared.

“Good,” Fleur responded before turning her attention back to the rest of the group, “If there’s nothing left to be said I think we should begin.”

“Hold on a second!” Lightning Dust cut in, her gaze sweeping over everypony, mistrust clearly visible. “I’m not about to go wondering about this crazy place, I ain’t about to give any of you a chance to stab me in the back!”

“Do you really think any of us are going to play that maniac’s game?” Vinyl asked in disbelief. Lightning opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by Pinkie Pie.

“Hey, how about this for an idea?” Pinkie spoke up, “There’s fifteen of us, so what if we go searching in groups of three?”

“How ish that any better?” Gizmo asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“Simple actually,” Pinkie continued, sounding pleased with herself. “That mean old Mastermind said we had to kill without anyone else finding out about it, that means we can’t use accomplices, and we can’t kill somepony in front of somepony else because even if we intend to silence them, there’s a risk they could escape and alert the others. In groups of three we can be sure that nopony will try to kill any other pony because they’d be almost guaranteed to get caught.”

“Pinkie Pie, that’s genius!” Twilight exclaimed.

“It’s not entirely without risk, but Trixie must admit it is a fairly solid plan.”

“Very well then, we shall instigate Pinkie’s excellent plan,” Fleur announced, “everypony group and head ou…”

“Hold on a second!” Exclaimed a voice, punctuated by the stomping of a hoof. Everypony turned to see Blueblood staring down upon them all. “I will not be ordered around like some commoner, I am a prince and I will have the last say here!”

Twilight had just about had enough of Blueblood’s comments by this point and was about to tell him to shut up when Fleur began laughing. Everypony was a bit caught off guard by this, even Blueblood, but Fleur continued to laugh her silky laugh.

“What is so funny?” Blueblood demanded. Fleur’s laugh teetered off, but she continued to grin slyly when she looked at Blueblood.

“You are,” she replied simply, but continued when Blueblood opened his mouth again. “You actually fancy yourself a prince, just because it’s your first name.”

“I am a prince because I am the nephew of Princess Celestia herself!” Blueblood spat back, this didn’t shift Fleur’s smile at all.

“Oh please, I know even you don’t believe that,” she said, “Princess Celestia only made you and your ancestors honorary members of the royal family, so you could continue to feel important and not disrupt her attempts at unifying the three pony tribes. Face it Blueblood, you’re no prince, you’re nothing more than a jumped up Nobel.”

Blueblood stammered, his face twisted in outrage. Even the other ponies gathered looked shocked at Fleur’s statement. Before he could form a coherent response however, Fleur turned her attention back to Twilight.

“You were right about one thing however,” she said, still partially addressing Blueblood, “A Prince should have the last say, or princess as the case may be.”

Blueblood then directed his anger at Twilight, a fire of pure undiluted hatred burning in his eyes. Twilight stood up straight, refusing to wither under his gaze, refusing to appear weak in Fleur’s eyes.

“So Princess Twilight,” Fleur said once more, “do you agree with the plan.”

Twilight met Fleur’s eyes, she was hard to read, Twilight couldn’t be sure what it was she was seeing in them. When she made her response however, she made sure to be looking back at Blueblood when she did. “I do.”

Day 1, 13:05

“I mean damn girl,” Vinyl exclaimed, “you have got some sass; you hear what I’m saying!”

“Yes Vinyl, I gathered that the last dozen times you said so,” Twilight replied as they walked down the wide marble staircase in the entrance hall. Vinyl was definitely growing on Twilight, it quickly became apparent why her and Pinkie were such good friends, with their bubbly attitude and outgoing nature they could have been sisters.

“I know but still, the way you gave it to Blueblood was nothing short of awesome!”

“It was Fleur who did most of the ‘giving to’,” Twilight emphasised, “I just tried to assert myself.”

“And boy did you,” Vinyl replied laughing, “he looked like he was about ready to murder you…”

Both Vinyl and Twilight stopped dead in their tracks as the possible implication of Vinyl’s words sunk in.

“I didn’t literally mean…” Vinyl began.

“I know you didn’t…” Twilight replied. The awkward silence began to stretch until it was finally snapped by periodic clopping and high pitched singing of Pinkie Pie catching up behind them.

“Sorry I took so long girls,” Pinkie apologised bursting in between them, “I don’t know how long we were asleep but I really had to go!”

“That’s alright Pinkie,” Twilight assured her, glad of the change of subject.

“So this is the main door then,” Vinyl pointed out drawing both Twilight and Pinkie’s attention the front of the entrance hall where a pair of incredible tall and heavy looking double doors stood wide open. Beyond them lay the perfect view of the main pathway leading from the front of the mansion all the way out the surprisingly long distance to the iron gates where it all began. As the trio strode over to the doors, a familiar beeping caused them all to look down at their hoof computers, upon which a new stark white screen had appeared, this one showing nothing but text.

Due to the nature of the front doors, they will be opened and closed automatically. They will close and lock every night at 22:00, and only reopen at 07:00 the following morning. Every other door in and out of the manor house will remain unlocked throughout the night.

“I wonder how many doors there are,” Twilight thought out loud. Once they all read the message they carried on their way through the doors and out into the fresh air.

“Woo, you smell that?” Vinyl asked giving a low whistle, “that is the smell of freedom.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” Twilight said forebodingly, “that doesn’t look like freedom…”

Vinyl quirked an eyebrow, confused by the wide eyed stares on both Twilight and Pinkie’s face. Looking back out over the grounds, she telekinetically raised her sunglasses off her eyes and saw what she had missed. Instead of seeing a sky of calm blue, she was instead greeted by an overcast of swirling, pulsating colours, making the sky look like some organic cloud had been stretched right over their heads down to the horizon.

“What the heck?” Vinyl said slowly, “is that a force field?”

“It looks like it, but certainly not any I’ve ever seen,” Twilight replied, taking the first steps over the concrete slabs forming the floor just outside the front of the mansion.

As the three mares walked down the final steps to the gravel path, Pinkie spoke up. “Hey Vinyl, we never did ask, how come you’re here?”

“Me?” Vinyl asked, dragging her attention away from the eldritch sky. “I got this letter hiring me to do the music for a party here.”

“A letter?” Pinkie repeated both her and Twilight giving Vinyl the same curious glance. “Could we see it?”

“Sure,” Vinyl obliged, pulling a crumpled sheet of parchment from her saddlebags and passing it over to Pinkie. Guessing what Pinkie was going to do, Twilight brought their own letter out from her bags and brought it over next to the one Pinkie was now holding.

“The writing’s identical,” Pinkie pointed out.

“No big surprise,” Vinyl replied casually, “they were obviously fakes intended to lure us all here.”

“Which raises the good question,” Twilight began, passing Vinyl’s letter back to her and returning her own to her bags. “Who is behind this?”

“Any thoughts Twilight?” Pinkie asked, sure the unicorn could easily deduce the answer. Twilight indeed opened her mouth, seemingly ready to make a suggestion, but then she seemed to have an afterthought and instead turned to Pinkie with a smile on her face.

“Actually Pinkie, why don’t you tell us your thoughts on it.”

“Me?” Pinkie repeated surprised, she didn’t have any clue who could be the one responsible for this. But Twilight was watching her expectantly; even Vinyl was looking to her. “Well I’d first assume it was someone who had reason to be angry at us, one of our old enemies perhaps. But that wouldn’t explain why anypony besides us two are here…”

Twilight nodded, encouraging her to continue. “If it was however, then the question is which? Discord obviously has the power, but killing isn’t really his style. Besides he’s been reformed, if he was going to turn on us he’d have us all here as well as the princesses. Now this is right up Chrysalis’s street, but as a changeling she wouldn’t have nearly enough power to do all this, plus her magic is green, so this force field wouldn’t be all multi-coloured.

“With Nightmare Moon gone that leaves only Sombra,” Pinkie continued, “It’s hard to say since we barely interacted with him, but he lost his physical form and powers so even if he would do this he probably couldn’t. Sorry Twilight, I don’t have a clue who could be behind this.”

Pinkie looked back to Twilight expecting to see disappointment, but instead Twilight was grinning proudly, and Vinyl was smirking and nodding her head impressed.

“No Pinkie that was perfect,” Twilight gushed, “I couldn’t expect you to reach a definitive conclusion, but that was all incredible displays of deduction.”

“Thanks Twilight,” Pinkie said sincerely, beaming at her friends. “I did learn from the best after all.”

“Really? Who was that?” Vinyl asked curiously. Twilight and Pinkie shared a smile before looking back at Vinyl.

“Well there was this time we were delivering a cake on a train…”

Day 1, 15:41

“Alright, that’s the last of us,” Braeburn announced as Blueblood, Trenderhoof and Gizmo entered the dining room.

“Good,” Fleur said, rising from her chair to address them all, “now that we’re all here we can report back our findings. I think it best we start with Princess Twilight.”

Twilight nodded, standing up and looking out over her waiting audience. “Well Pinkie, Vinyl and I did as Fleur suggested and went to check the perimeter. When we came to the front doors we received a message on our computer things, they read…”

“Don’t bother Twilight,” Vinyl interrupted, fiddling with her own hoof computer, “I got this.” A few seconds later the room was filled with another wave of beeps causing everypony to look down at the computers, the message that had appeared to Twilight, Pinkie and Vinyl now displayed before them all, this one now displayed against a black background.

“How did you do that?” Twilight asked, impressed.

“E-mail,” Vinyl replied simply, “I work with technology all the time; it’s no biggie for me.”

“So the front door is automatic,” Fleur recited from her own computer, “a bit like the dining room door then. Alright carry on.”

“Once we got outside we noticed the sky, you probably saw it from the windows?” Twilight checked, receiving a number of nods she carried on. “We guessed it was some kind of force field, and once we reached the entrance gate, we managed to confirm that a magical dome is indeed encasing the entire manor, grounds and all.”

“What are its effects?” Trixie asked in a surprisingly professional tone.

“From what I could gather it not only keeps us inside physically, but it also prevents us from sending objects like letters outside it,” Twilight replied, “and while I can’t be sure, something the Mastermind said makes me think it’s also projecting an illusion spell to the outside, hence I wouldn’t count on being rescued.”

“If that thing ish magical,” Gizmo spoke up, “then how come it’sh all thosh coloursh? Aren’t unicornsh magic only shupposhed to be one colour?”

“That’s true,” Trixie responded, “However there are legends that suggest the most powerful unicorns could manipulate the colour of their aura.”

“So the Mastermind is a unicorn?” Soarin asked.

“Possibly,” Trixie replied, “however we can’t rule out anything else, it is possible for other pony races to perform magic given the right knowledge and tools, and this place has a huge library as well as several research labs.”

“Who else were you with?” Fleur asked, looking to Trixie.

“Trixie was grouped with Coco and Redheart,” she stated matter-of-factly, “we took it upon ourselves to search the third floor.”

“So you discovered a library and research labs,” Fleur repeated, “anything else?”

“That floor seems dedicated mostly to study purposes,” Trixie continued, “beyond that we encountered a locked door, none of Trixie’s spells would unlock it and when she prepared to destroy it instead we were sent a message on our computers stating that if we forced open any doors, we would be punished. Trixie was going to ignore this, but Coco insisted she didn’t, so to avoid any more fighting I chose to relent.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Fleur said, “we shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks. So who was searching the second floor?”

“That was us,” Trenderhoof stated raising a hoof, “all the bedrooms are on that floor, they’re pretty spread out.”

“And the rooms themselves?” Fleur asked.

“Well they’re all locked, so we could only see inside our own,” he replied raising his own room key to prove his point. “They’re pretty much identical, double bed, dresser, ensuit bathroom with a shower and toilet.”

“So that’s it, just the bedrooms?” Fleur asked doubtfully.

“There was also a laundry room and shared wash room,” Trenderhoof replied, “It’s got saunas and stuff.”

“Alright, that just leaves Braeburn’s group and my own,” Fleur said gesturing to herself, Cloudchaser and Lightning Dust. “All we found were the typical living accommodations; the main kitchen is just down the hall from here as well a cool room where all the food is stored, according to the message we received on our computers, the food is restocked weekly. As well as that there are also several parlours and what I believe are game rooms.”

“Well me and the guys here were checkin’ the other side of this floor,” Braeburn announced nodding back at Soarin and Doughnut Joe, “There looks to be a whole sports facility, indoor pool and all. Besides that this mansion seems to be made up mostly of corridors, it would be like a maze if not for these handy little things.” Braeburn gestured to his hoof computer which was displaying the digital map of the house.

“Well I think we’ve gotten a good bearing of the house, thank you all for your cooperation,” Fleur announced, most ponies smiled back appreciatively at her, mostly notably among those who didn’t were Blueblood who pointedly looked away from her. “I know we’re all eager to get out of here, but I am famished, and we can hardly investigate on empty stomachs.”

“I second that,” Vinyl said standing up, “hows about we head down to the kitchen and fix up some late lunch?”

“Let me,” Doughnut Joe offered, walking to the door, “cooking is kind of my thing.”

“I’ll help,” Coco called out quietly, running out the room behind him. Once the pair had departed, everypony else relaxed into their chairs, a few starting some casual conversations.

“Well everypony,” Fleur announced, drawing their attention once more, “I am feeling confident that this little game won’t last much longer.”

“Is that what you think is it?” A familiar voice asked, almost sounding amused. Everypony in the room seemed to stiffen in their chairs, looking to the monitor which had once again come to life, showing the same distorted screen. “And why is that I wonder… Is it perhaps because you genuinely believe you can defy me and escape?”

“Mastermind,” Fleur said smoothly, “I was wondering when you’d show up again. And yes, in answer to your question, I do believe we can beat you.”

“Such confidence,” the Mastermind said, “one such as you is wasted on the outside world.”

“You say that like you’ve got some beef with Equestria,” Vinyl said, quirking an eyebrow.

“That’s silly,” Pinkie exclaimed, laughing a little, “Equestria is the best, how could anypony not love it?”

“My beef does not lie in Equestria itself, rather those who plague it,” the Mastermind replied, its voice rising in pitch slightly.

“Look buddy,” Soarin cut in, “there are tonnes of great ponies out there, generalising like that just isn’t cool.”

“And if you have a problem with ponies,” Redheart began, “then why did you bring us here.”

“I have my reasons,” the Mastermind replied enigmatically.

“We get it, you’re mysterious,” Cloudchaser said, sounding bored, “what do you want?”

“Teaching you some manners would be a good start,” Mastermind replied in a low tone that made Cloudchaser gulp slightly. “But for now I simply wished to remind you of your current predicament.”

“Your game,” Trenderhoof stated, “well if we haven’t made it clear yet, we’re not playing. We are not going to kill each other.”

“Are you sure?” Mastermind asked, a hint of enjoyment in its voice despite all the static. “Can you really be sure that everyone else in this room has the same selfless standpoint as you? Can you really tell me, you’d trust every one of them with your life?”

Trenderhoof seemed to shrink in his seat, not daring to respond or make eye contact with anypony else.

“Um, who are you?” Gizmo asked, causing everypony to give him a condescending look. “I jusht thought I’d ashk.”

“Well you’re welcome to try and figure it out,” Mastermind invited, “but don’t expect me to make things easier for you… Oh, I think I smell your lunch approaching.” Indeed the sound of hoofsteps could be heard outside as well as a faint aroma drifting through the air. “Until next time.”

The screen went black once more and the sound cut, when Coco entered the room pushing a tray of doughnuts she found the atmosphere one icy silence. “Is… is something wrong?” she asked, sounding terrified that she might have done something wrong.

“Its nothin’ kid,” Vinyl assured her, “let’s just eat.”

Day 1, 17:02

“Whoa, who’s that old guy?” Pinkie asked, staring up at that oil painting dominating the wall from floor the ceiling in the parlour. Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but she was beaten to the punch by Trenderhoof who was standing next to her.

“That’s Orchid the Omnipotent,” he said gesturing to the picture of the pale pink stallion with his receding purple mane and gold trimmed reading glasses, posed looking thoughtfully away from the painter. “So named for his knowledge in all fields of magic, and not just the one associated with his cutie mark, which was plant magic, hence the space dedicated to gardens outside.”

Twilight looked at him, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “I had to write an article on him back in school,” he explained with a non-committal shrug.

“Sounds a lot like you Twilight,” Pinkie said, “knowledge of all fields of magic.”

“Thanks Pinkie,” Twilight replied blushing slightly, “I hope I can reach his level someday, he was a truly great unicorn.”

“Ha, as if!” A voice spoke out behind them causing them all to spin around. They all silently groaned as they saw Blueblood marching forward to them.

“Are you seriously going to stand there and deny Orchid was an amazing unicorn?” Twilight demanded, not in the mood for Blueblood’s ego.

“Oh he was a good magician, no doubt about that,” Blueblood said like it wasn’t anything worth mentioning at all. “He just wasn’t much of a stallion, I mean look at his horn.”

They all did, Pinkie couldn’t see what the issue was, it looked to about the same length as Twilight’s. However looking over at the others she saw Trenderhoof was facing up to Blueblood, looking thoroughly ticked off.

“Are you implying there’s something wrong with stallions who have short horns?” He demanded, seething with rage. It was then Pinkie noticed that his horn was a relatively normal size, what she’d come to expect from most unicorns, but Blueblood’s was far longer, similar to Twilight’s own brother she recalled.

“I’m not implying anything,” Blueblood began, turning and starting to walk away, “I’m stating it makes you look like a mare.”

Trenderhoof’s face went scarlet as he pursed his lips together, clearly trying to repress the urge to shout after Blueblood.

“Oh, I never knew horn length was a sign of masculinity,” Pinkie said in wonderment.

“They aren’t!” Trenderhoof snapped, “I mean they are, but…”

“Hey it’s alright,” Twilight assured him, “There’s nothing wrong with having a short horn, it doesn’t make you any less male.”

“Thanks Twilight,” Trenderhoof replied, his shoulders sagging greatly, “I shouldn’t let him get to me.”

“Yeah, now come on Trendy, turn that frown upside down,” Pinkie said cheerfully, throwing a hoof over his shoulder, “we’ve still got plenty of exploring to do!”

Day 1, 19:54

“It’s getting kind of late,” Coco said tentatively, “don’t you think we should call it a night?”

“It’s okay Coco, you can head on to bed if you want,” Twilight replied, looking up from her book to offer a polite smile. “I think we’ll stay here and read for a little longer.”

Coco nodded and departed from the library leaving Twilight and Trixie to their reading. The room remained silent for a long time, not counting the persistent bouncing of Pinkie who had taken it upon herself to read the spines of every book in the library. The silence was broken at last by Trixie speaking up.

“Do you trust everyone?” She asked simply. Twilight didn’t answer right away, mulling her answer over.

“Yes,” she said finally. Trixie raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. “I know some ponies here aren’t the most pleasant, but I genuinely don’t believe they have it in them to kill another pony.”

“You always insist on seeing the best in other ponies,” Trixie replied, still scanning over her own book, “I’m not sure whether it’s a good thing or not.”

“Hey girls, check out what we found,” Pinkie announced, causing Twilight and Trixie to both look up from their respective books to see Pinkie and Doughnut Joe approaching, the latter carrying a book. “It’s a really old recipe book filled with all these neat dishes!”

“Some are pretty eccentric, but I could give a few of them a go,” Doughnut Joe chipped in, he then seemed to catch himself on. “Oh, we weren’t interrupting you two were we?”

Twilight and Trixie looked at each other briefly, seeming to come to a silent agreement before looking back. “No it’s okay,” Twilight assured him, “we were just about to leave anyway.”

Day 1, 23:12

“Twilight,” Pinkie’s voice called out, “are you asleep?”

Twilight, who had been sleeping quite peacefully groaned at the sound of her friend. “What is it Pinkie?” she called back.

“I was just wondering if you were asleep?” Pinkie replied.

“I’m obviously not asleep, or I wouldn’t have responded,” Twilight stated irritably. There was a long moment of silence in which twilight briefly wondered if Pinkie had left and returned to her own room.

“Oh yeah,” Pinkie said at last, giggling. Twilight sighed, accepting that she wasn’t about to get back to sleep any time soon, she telekinetically lifted her key from the top of the dresser, put it into the lock and opened the door. Pinkie merrily trotted on in and plopped herself down at the foot of Twilight’s bed.

“Did you want something?” Twilight asked curiously when she sat up only to find Pinkie staring at her. Pinkie sighed loudly, her hair deflating slightly.

“Twilight, are we ever going to get back to Ponyville?” she asked miserably.

“What? Pinkie how could you even think that?” Twilight asked, surprised at seeing her normally so optimistic friend looking so forlorn about their current situation. “Listen to me Pinkie Pie, no matter what happens, we will leave this place. We will go back to Ponyville and see our friends, you hear me?”

Pinkie nodded, looking slightly reassured by Twilight’s words. Twilight scooted forward and embraced her, comforted by Pinkie returning the hug.

“I trust you Twilight.”

Day 2, 10:33

“Hey everypony,” Vinyl greeted the dining room while stifling a yawn, “sorry I’m late, I slept like a log. Those beds are amazing; when we get out of here I’m takin’ one of those with me!”

“Well now that we’re all here,” Fleur began looking around at all the gathered ponies, “I think we should probably meet here every morning, for breakfast obviously, but also to plan out what we shall do.”

“It should probably also be stated that we should all meet at nine,” Trixie added, “that way we aren’t left waiting on the sloths.”

“Alright, alright,” Vinyl said, “I’ll get up earlier, no need to bite my head off.”

“So,” Fleur interrupted before Trixie or anyone else could chip in, “has anypony any thoughts on what we should do.”

“Well Trixie and I found some interesting spell books yesterday,” Twilight announced, “I’m not sure what we can find, but given a little time we might be able to come up with something that could help us get out.”

“Excellent idea Princess,” Fleur replied happily, “I’m sure we’ll all be free in no time with the pair of you working on it.”

“I guess I could lend a hoof with that,” Trenderhoof proposed, “I don’t know a lot about magic but I’m a pretty thorough reader.”

“I’ve been thinking about that monitor up there,” Vinyl pointed out, gesturing to the Masterminds screen. “If the Mastermind’s communicating to us through that, maybe I can figure out where it’s receiving its signal from.”

“Good, the rest of you can go about your own business,” Fleur dictated, “Just try not to get in any of our way.”

“By that, am I to take it you’re actually going to do something to help instead of ordering us all around?” Lightning Dust muttered, not quietly enough to be have been missed by Fleur.

“I am going to continue to search the house,” she responded, her voice remaining calm despite the insult, “these old buildings are notorious for secret rooms and passages. It is possible we overlooked some yesterday.”

Lightning Dust just shrugged, most likely having brought up her complaint just for the sake of complaining and not actually receiving a legitimate answer. “If there are no further objections,” Fleur continued, “I shall hopefully see you all back here for dinner.”

Day 2, 17:56

“So I guess I’ll keep trying tomorrow,” Vinyl finished while taking a gulp of cider from her glass. “My head’s fried.”

“No worries Vinyl,” Soarin assured her, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. “Gizmo can take over for the rest of the evening.”

“I can?” Gizmo exclaimed, surprised at being dragged into the conversation.

“Of course,” Soarin replied like it was obvious, “you’re a tinkerer, you know how to work all that techy stuff don’t you?”

“No, I work with widgets and mechanisms, I don’t know the first thing about electronics,” Gizmo insisted in a panicked tone.

“Well that’s the next best thing,” Soarin responded with a shrug, “just fiddle about for a bit, what could go wrong?”

“Yeah Gizmo, be a team player,” Vinyl goaded, levitating a slice of tomato into her open mouth.

“What about you girls?” Redheart began before Gizmo could begin arguing again, looking over at Twilight and Trixie sitting across from one another. “Did you come across anything?”

“Plenty of interesting stuff,” Twilight began, “Not anything that can help us, but then there is a lot of books up there, it’ll take a while for us to find anything of value.”

“How ‘bout you Pinks?” Vinyl asked through a full mouth. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh I’ve been planning out how I’m going to murder everypony in their sleep,” Pinkie replied casually while cutting her cucumber up into slices. The handful of ponies around her fell dead silent, staring at her with wide horrified eyes. “Pffftttt,” Pinkie exclaimed before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Oh the looks on your faces! Priceless!”

“Nice one Pinkie, you even had me going there,” Vinyl said joining in with her laughter, everypony else remained slightly nervous and awkward.

“But seriously, I tagged along with Fleur,” Pinkie said at last, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Cool, did you find anything?” Vinyl asked enthusiastically.

“We found the chimneys between all the fireplaces are connected,” Pinkie explained, sparking the interest of the others in the group. “If you climb up one, you can crawl through little tunnels into the others.”

“Did Fleur make you climb up the chimney to find this out?” Twilight asked surprised.

“Of course not,” Pinkie assured her, “I volunteered to. After that Fleur and I went to the shared wash room and got cleaned up together.”

“You did?” Soarin asked, a pink hue creeping over his muzzle.

“Yeah, what’s weird about that?” Pinkie asked, totally oblivious.

“Uh, never worry about that Pinkie,” Vinyl said, laughing nervously before turning on Soarin, “and you, cold shower, now!”

“Lighten up Vinyl, I’m kidding,” Soarin said, rolling his eyes and flashing a smirk.

“Twilight,” a voice spoke out causing them all to look up from their plates, “I need to talk to you.”

Twilight stared back at Blueblood, trying to decide whether it would be better to tell him no outright, or get it over as quickly as possible. In the end she decided she would at least try to be civil.

“Talk away,” she replied curtly, wiping her mouth with her napkin.

“In private,” Blueblood specified. Twilight looked back at her friends who were all giving her wary looks, before turning back and answering.

“Fine, just make it quick,” she said in a neutral tone before standing up and following him from the room. As they left through the door, Coco was forced to jump out of the way to avoid having both her and her tray of desserts knocked over.

“Is something going on?” she asked in a worried tone as she hurried over and began placing down bowls of steaming chocolate pudding in front of each pony.

“Oh it’s fine,” Vinyl replied lazily, “they’re just having a polite discussion.”

“Hey, I hope you’re getting something to eat and not just serving us,” Redheart said concerned as Coco placed a bowl before her.

“Oh yes,” Coco replied happily, “Me and Joe are eating our food in the kitchen while preparing every…”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Twilight screamed from outside the dining room causing everypony to fall utterly silent and snap up straight. Twilight’s exclamation was followed by a loud smacking noise and Twilight storming back into room, seething with anger.

“Like I said,” Vinyl said as calmly as if she were stating the day of the week, being the only pony who didn’t seem to react to Twilight’s outburst. “Just a polite conversation.”

“Um, Twilight,” Pinkie began hesitantly as Twilight flopped onto her seat and began shovelling spoonfuls of pudding into her mouth. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine,” Twilight said coldly, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” Pinkie asked concerned, “it might hel…”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Twilight shouted back, causing Pinkie to look away ashamed. Blueblood didn’t come back into the dining room.

Day 2, 21:14

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier Pinkie,” Twilight said for the dozenth time as her, Pinkie and Vinyl walked along the hallway to the bedrooms.

“I told you already, it’s okay Twilight,” Pinkie insisted. Indeed she had forgiven Twilight; she could understand the effect Blueblood had on ponies.

“What did he do that made you react that way?” Vinyl asked concerned.

“He…” Twilight began before sighing and shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter, he was just being an ass.”

“So nothing out of the ordinary then,” Vinyl replied, earning a smile from Twilight. They reached a door which Twilight stopped by.

“This is my stop,” she said bringing her key out of her bag. “I’ll see you girls in the morning.”

“Are you sure you want to call it a night?” Pinkie asked, “I’m feeling kind of hungry, we could go down to the kitchen and fix up a snack.”

“How are you still hungry after that dinner?” Twilight asked disbelievingly, Pinkie just shrugged. “Well no, I’m pretty tired, you can go if you want but I’m going to try and get some sleep.”

“Alright,” Pinkie relented slightly disappointed, “Sleep tight.”

“I will, goodnight girls,” Twilight bade before enter her room and closing the door behind her, the sound of the lock clicking, echoing through the hall.

“Are you coming Vinyl?” Pinkie asked, turning to the DJ.

“Yeah I could eat, let’s go.” As the pair walked down the corridor they carried on making small talk. “I’m just sayin’ Pinkie; if you can’t do it it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I can to do it!” Pinkie exclaimed, reaching up with her hooves and clutching her nostrils shut and clenching her lips tight before trying to exhale as hard as she could. What quickly resulted were her eyes rolling back, her face turning blue, and Pinkie collapsing to the ground gasping desperately.

“Oh god, I can’t believe you fell for that,” Vinyl burst out laughing at Pinkie, who was now stumbling to her hooves, her head spinning.

“Oh ha, ha,” Pinkie said in a disgruntled tone, but her grin gave away she was amused at having fallen for Vinyl’s trick. “Very funny Vinyl.”

Pinkie playfully punched Vinyl in the shoulder causing her to stumble back into a large terracotta plant pot. The pot wobbled, threatening to tip over before Vinyl managed to grab hold of it and right it.

“Close one,” Vinyl said looking back to Pinkie, “now come on, let’s go grab that snack.”

Day 3, 08:49

Pinkie walked along the hallway to Twilight’s room, stifling a yawn. It had definitely been a mistake staying up so late. But she had managed to drag herself reluctantly out of her bed with enough time to get to the dining room before nine. As she reached Twilight’s room, she opened her mouth ready to call out, but was interrupted by the sound of approaching hoofsteps. Pinkie looked up to see Trixie and Coco approaching from the opposite direction.

“Would you two please hurry up,” Trixie said irritably, “we’re all in the dining room waiting for you.”

“Um, actually Trixie,” Coco began quietly, “it’s not nine yet, so they aren’t really late.”

“Well the earlier we can get started, the better,” Trixie stated curtly, reaching Pinkie. “Is Twilight in there?”

“Yeah I’m just about to knock,” Pinkie explained turning back to the door. “Twilight! Wakey, wakey!”

Pinkie reached out to rap her hoof upon the door, but as soon as she made contact with it, the door gave way, swinging open slightly. Surprised Pinkie glanced over at Trixie who just raised a curious eyebrow. Looking back, Pinkie stepped forward, tentatively pushing the door open, an unfamiliar feeling of foreboding rising in her gut.

The first thing Pinkie noticed were the red bed sheets hanging off the bed.

Wait red? Twilight’s sheets are white, I saw them last night.

From there Pinkie’s eyes travelled up… and her heart stopped.

Twilight lay in a crumpled heap on her bed, her head twisted around to face the door. Her mouth was hanging agape, her eyes wide and glassy, completely devoid of light. Her lavender coat was caked in dry blood, deep gashes covering her back and torso. A single black knife hilt sticking out of her ribs.

Pinkie shook uncontrollably, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight before her. At last she found her voice again, and screamed.

Author's Note

Poor Twilight... Poor Pinkie...
So, now for the obvious question, who is responsible?

C1: The Art Of Deduction

Day 3, 09:37

Flailing and writhing… the life being choked from my body…

White sheets stained red… in blood… my blood...

The sun’s setting… no surprise… I couldn’t last forever…

The twilight couldn’t last forever…

She couldn’t live forever…

My friend…

“TWILIGHT!” Pinkie screamed, sitting bolt upright, causing the ponies around her to jump back in shock. Pinkie looked around wildly, ignoring the anxious stares of the ponies standing around her, looking for the one face she longed to see most… the one face that was missing.

“Twilight, where is she?” Pinkie asked, sure she was imagining the pained looks on their faces. Redheart knelt down beside her, her eyes filled with pity.

“Pinkie…” she began, her voice hesitant, “you fainted, do you remember why?”

“Where is she?!” Pinkie demanded, her voice trembling from rage and fear. Vinyl sighed, sitting down next to Pinkie.

“Pinkie…” her voice lacked any semblance of its usual upbeat tone. “Twilight’s dead.”

Day 3, 10:12

Pinkie wasn’t sure how long it took her to calm down. Amidst the screams, tears and throwing of chairs, time seemed to lose all meaning. Somewhere along the way Redheart asked everypony besides her and Vinyl to wait outside while they try to calm Pinkie down. In the end Pinkie was sure she only calmed down because she didn’t have the energy to keep up her wails, and she allowed Vinyl to sit her down in one of the still standing chairs.

“I came running when I heard you scream,” Vinyl said after a long period of silence, her voice hoarse. “Most of us did. I saw… her. I’m so sorry Pinkie.”

“Was it you?” Pinkie whispered looking down at her lap.

“No!” Vinyl exclaimed, horrified at the suggestion. “Pinkie, look at me!”

Pinkie tilted her head up as Vinyl threw her sunglasses away, revealing Vinyl’s deep purple eyes, the whites of which were heavily bloodshot and shiny with her own tears.

“I swear to you, I did not kill her,” she stated, sincerity dripping from her tone. Pinkie nodded before looking over to Redheart who was standing back to give the pair some space.

“You can let the others back in now, I think I’ll be okay,” Pinkie said quietly. Redheart nodded solemnly, walking to the still open door and calling out for the rest to come back in. As they marched back into the dining room, a few cast Pinkie a mix of pitying and worrying glances, most however just avoided eye contact all together.

“So now what happens?” Cloudchaser asked once they were all gathered in the room.

“We wait,” Fleur replied, her voice bare of all emotion, “with the first body found, the Mastermind will no doubt wish to address us.”

“How right you are,” the oh so familiar voice echoed out, the screen crackling to life for the third time. “Remind me what it was you all said about not playing this game?”

“You have a lot to answer for buddy!” Soaring exclaimed, thrusting an accusing hoof at the screen.

“Me?” The Mastermind replied in mock surprise, “I didn’t do anything, if you’ve forgotten; Twilight Sparkle could only have been killed by someone in this room.”

“Come on, who was it?” Lightning Dust demanded, “You got your freedom, now own up so the rest of us can kill you!”

“Actually,” The Mastermind cut in, “I’m afraid for my little killer, that their freedom isn’t quite as… instant as I may have indicated before.”

Everypony in the room looked up at the screen, confusion etched into their faces.

“You see,” the Mastermind continued, “In order to earn your freedom, you must be found innocent of your crime in a trial, held this afternoon.”

“A trial?” Vinyl repeated, having put her sunglasses back on at some point while nopony was watching.

“The actual process will be explained at the time,” the Mastermind explained, “but until then you all have free reign to gather evidence and compile a case to present. If you can prove the culprit’s identity, they will be punished for their crime. If you can’t…”

“They go free,” Fleur finished.

“More or less,” the Mastermind agreed. “I will give you a few hours to conduct your investigation. Good luck.”

The screen flicked off, the Mastermind’s last condescending note hanging in the air.

“Great,” Gizmo said at last, “how are we shupposhed to figure out who the culprit ish?”

“Would it be too much to hope they’d just own up?” Vinyl asked, half-jokingly, she was met with complete silence. “Figures.”

“There’s no point standing here pointing hooves,” Trixie cut in, “If we are going to get to the bottom of this, we need to conduct a proper investigation. And I think we all know where said investigation must start…”

A grim silence descended upon the room as Trixie’s meaning became apparent.

“I’ll go there now,” Redheart spoke up, “I suppose someone needs to… examine her.”

“I’ll go as well,” Pinkie said blankly, standing up. Everypony stared at her in shock.

“Hey, you can just sit this out you know,” Vinyl insisted, “You don’t have to go back up there.”

“I do have to Vinyl,” Pinkie replied determined, “Twilight was my friend, I have to figure out who did this.”

“We shouldn’t waste any time,” Trixie stated, seeing Vinyl had no more objections, “we only have a few hours and we need to make the most of it.”

Day 3, 10:25

The group stood outside the bedroom door, which had been drawn across, leaving only a slight gap open.

“Was anything touched?” Pinkie asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“No,” Trixie replied just as curtly, “after you passed out, we brought you downstairs, nopony else came up here after that.”

Pinkie nodded, looking once around the group. Vinyl’s glasses hid any feelings she may have had about the situation, Trixie looked as coolly confident as ever, Redheart looked as if she was trying to remain professional but struggling, and finally Braeburn looked downright terrified.

Trixie swung the door open slowly in her pale pink aura, the whole group taking a collective breath, readying themselves for what lay beyond.

Pinkie wasn’t sure what she had expected to find, maybe Twilight sitting on her bed reading a book, confused as to why everypony was so shocked to see her. But when she saw Twilight’s mutilated body exactly as it had been before she fainted, she definitely felt a tinge of disappointment. Redheart was the first to enter the room, bracing herself against the smell that had started to develop. Trixie followed her, flinching slightly.

“Are you ready?” Vinyl asked. Pinkie nodded, and together they walked in, Vinyl resting a comforting hoof on Pinkie’s back.

Pinkie recalled a moment from her childhood as she entered the room. It was getting late as she had entered the quarry, as a result she didn’t notice when the ground gave out beneath her and she went tumbling into a pit, all light extinguished around her. She knew something was wrong as soon as her senses returned to her. The air was thick and warm, a foul stench of rotting meat invading her nostrils making her entire head spin. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark around her she made out the body of the unfortunate pony who had fallen down the pit the same way she had, and had not been discovered.

Luckily for Pinkie Pie, her father had been close enough at the time to follow the sound of her screams, and with the rest of her family’s help she was out of that pit and home before midnight. But she would never forget that smell; it was the same smell that was filling Twilight’s bedroom now as she walked in and looked down at the body of her dearest friend.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Braeburn gagged, bringing Pinkie back to the present.

“Well do it in the toilet,” Trixie snapped in disgust. Braeburn didn’t hesitate, rushing past them to the open bathroom door, the sound of vomiting following shortly after.

Pinkie moved a little closer, Vinyl constantly at her side. Now that she was taking a good look she could see black hilt of the knife, jutting out of Twilight’s ribs, as well as several other puncture wounds around her back and right side.

Twilight is on top of the covers, so she wasn’t in bed at the time of the killing, maybe she fell on to it after being attacked. If Twilight was facing the end of the bed, and the killer approached from the door, they would have been at the perfect angle to stab her in that side as well as her back. But approaching from that angle wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, so why didn’t she turn around?

Pinkie moved away from the body and approached the door. Vinyl followed her curiously. Together they crouched down so they were facing the inside of the door; the key was still in the lock.

The door wasn’t forced; Twilight must have unlocked it to allow the killer to come in. That would explain why they were able to approach her from behind without her being alarmed. But who would she trust enough to let inside her bedroom?

“This door doesn’t look forced to you does it?” Pinkie asked Vinyl, seeking confirmation of her theory.

“Nope,” she stated flatly, “plus remember what Trixie said, we aren’t allowed to force doors open.”

“So Twilight must have let them in,” Pinkie whispered, more to herself than Vinyl.

“Could she have just forgotten to lock her door?” Vinyl asked unsure.

“We heard her lock it though,” Pinkie reminded her, “after we left her last night.”

Meanwhile Trixie was still looking over Redheart’s shoulder.

“Any thoughts?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the knife in Twilight’s body.

“Well it looks like she died from the stab wounds,” Redheart began uncertainly, “but as an Alicorn Twilight would have had increased physical resistance, so this shouldn’t nearly be enough to kill her.”

“Can I take the knife out?” Trixie asked. Redheart looked up at her, surprised at Trixie forgetting to refer to herself in the third person, but nodded anyway.

Trixie slowly slid the knife from Twilight with her magic, she held it in front of her eyes, turning it over, examining every inch of it.

“Hey girls, I think that toilet’s blocked,” Braeburn said, re-entering the room, causing Trixie to nearly drop the knife out of surprise.

“Trixie is trying to examine the murder weapon,” she snapped at him, causing him to shrink back in fear, “and you interrupt her to say that the toilet is blocked?”

“Um…” Braeburn began, “yes.”

“Good,” Trixie said reverting to her calm demeanour instantly, thrusting the knife into Braeburn’s hooves causing him to freak out. “Take this, see if you can find where it came from while Trixie examines the toilet.”

With that she pushed past him into the bathroom, leaving a very bewildered Braeburn holding a bloody knife.

“Ugh!” Trixie exclaimed, revolted at the sight of toilet bowl splattered in sickly yellow liquid. Reaching out with her telekinesis, she felt down through the pipe for something solid she could latch onto, praying her suspicions were right. Grasping something, she smiled and pulled in loose, launching a crumpled ball into the bathroom, dripping with toilet water and sick.

Picking the wet ball up once more, she held it out before her. It was difficult to identify, but she began warping and reshaping it, hoping to figure it out. As she did she began to have a good notion of what it was she was holding, and after a few restoration spells to remove the various liquids from it, her suspicions were confirmed and she left the bathroom and departed into the hall without a word to the others.

Day 3, 11:18

“Alright, I think I’ve reached a conclusion,” Redheart said, approaching Vinyl and Pinkie who were sitting on the floor in Twilight’s room, waiting for the nurse to conclude the cause of death. “I believe she was poisoned.”

“You mean like food poisoning?” Vinyl asked in a worried tone.

“Not at all,” Redheart corrected, “I’m guessing there was a poison on the knife, and that it got into Twilight’s bloodstream when she was stabbed.”

“How can you tell?” Pinkie asked in awe.

“Well it would have been easier had I been able to examine her earlier, but she’s still displaying some symptoms,” Redheart explained, “For starters her eyes have been tinged with yellow, her blood is very dark, and judging from the way her limbs are twisted and the bedcovers beneath her, I believe she went into spasms, when really being stabbed should have paralyzed her from shock.”

“So poison was involved,” Vinyl repeated thoughtfully, “didn’t Trixie say yesterday there were labs on the third floor?”

“If there are, the killer could have found something there,” Redheart concurred. Pinkie nodded and stood up, readying to leave, Vinyl close behind her.

“Thanks Nurse Redheart,” Pinkie said sincerely, “We’ll go check there now.”

The pair left the room, making for the end of the corridor they knew led to the staircases. As they walked Vinyl noticed something. A familiar terracotta plant pot lying collapsed, a large mound of soil pouring from it.

“Hey that’s the plant pot we almost knocked over last night,” she pointed out, picking up her pace, “looks like it didn’t matter that I caught it, but I don’t see why anyone would knock it over and not bother to put it back up.”

“Unless when they knocked it over,” Pinkie began, the gears in her mind whirring, “they were in too much of a hurry to set it back up.”

Vinyl met her eyes, both of them reaching the same conclusion. Crossing the last several feet they looked down at the pot and the pile of soil, one feature standing out to them both. A single defined hoof print.

Day 3, 11:26

As Vinyl and Pinkie carried on walking, they picked up a sound emanating from one of the rooms, the sound of someone crying. In that brief moment Pinkie forgot about the investigation, her own kind nature returning to the forefront.

“You head on to the lab,” Pinkie said to Vinyl, “I’m going to check that out and then catch up with you.”

Vinyl nodded, carrying on towards the staircase. Pinkie instead turned right and entered the laundry room. Inside Coco sat scrubbing furiously a something, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Coco…” Pinkie said tentatively, creeping into the room, “what’s wrong?”

“I… just… can’t…” Coco murmured angrily, scrubbing harder and harder in the basin to the point where she was at risk of tearing right through the clothes.

“Can’t what?” Pinkie asked, getting closer, “What can’t you do?”

“Anything!” Coco screamed, throwing the shirt across the room, its stubborn yellow stain mocking her from where it lay. Coco put her head into her forehooves and began weeping uncontrollably, Pinkie sighed, sitting down next to her and putting a comforting hoof around her shoulder. “T… Twilight was so nice t… to me,” she blubbed, “I just wanted to help fins who did this, b… but I didn’t know what I could do, so I came here to do some washing to stay out of everypony’s way, but I can’t even do that r… right!”

She continued wailing into Pinkie’s coat; all the while Pinkie rubbed her back in a comforting fashion.

“Don’t feel bad,” Pinkie whispered, causing Coco to quieten a little. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, but in the mean time we need everypony to be there for each other. You might not realise it, but knowing other ponies care this much about Twilight really helps give me the strength to keep going.”

Coco pulled away from Pinkie, sniffing slightly but no longer crying. “I’m sorry, she was your friend, I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

“It is hard,” Pinkie admitted, “but I can’t give up just because things get hard, Twilight wouldn’t want me to do that. She wouldn’t want any of us to do that.”

Day 3, 11:31

Vinyl opened the door to the alchemy lab, breathing in the aroma of countless herbs and chemicals lining the walls in jars and bottles on dusty shelves. It only now occurred to her as she walked around the tables littered in test tubes and other random pieces of chemistry equipment, that she had no idea what she was looking for. It was a shame Redheart couldn’t have mentioned what chemicals might be used in making poison, but then, they did run off kind of abruptly.

Her train of thought was halted by a tinkling sound and something gentle knocking against her hoof. Looking down she saw a broken bottle at her hooves, the ground ahead of her coated in chips of glass and the same powder that coated the inside of the bottle remains. Levitating it up in front of her she examined the label. It was old and faded, but she could just about make out the words ‘Tartrazine’.

Day 3, 11:58

Pinkie walked alongside Coco as they approached the alchemy lab. Pinkie had filled her in on what they had figured out so far.

But what do I know so far? Twilight invited the killer in, so she probably trusted them. The killer stabbed her as she moved back towards the bed. The knife was poisoned, that’s what killed Twilight. As they left they knocked over that plant pot leaving a hoof print in it. It’s not a lot, certainly not enough to make any accusations. Maybe Vinyl will have found something useful…

Pinkie was pulled out of her thoughts by the very unicorn she was just thinking about running out of the lab and nearly knocking the both of them over.

“Oh hey Pinkie,” Vinyl said, looking between her and Coco, “I was just coming to find you.”

“Well we found you first,” Pinkie replied, laughing for the first time in what felt like forever. True it had only been a day, but she was sure she was already suffering from withdrawl symptoms. “Did you find anything?”

“Yeah actually,” Vinyl said, reaching into her saddle bags, “I’m not sure if it’s important, but I did find thi…”

Vinyl didn’t get to finish her sentence, or show Pinkie what it was she found. At that moment a voice echoed throughout the corridor they were standing in, and they reckoned throughout the rest of the house as well.

“Your time for investigating is up,” the Mastermind announced. “Please report to the entrance hall so that we can begin the trial. Anypony who does not show up will be punished.”

Pinkie and Vinyl looked at each other, Vinyl’s discovery momentarily forgotten.

“Well…” Pinkie began nervously, “let’s go.”

Day 3, 12:14

Trenderhoof hurried down the wide staircase, joining the crowd gathered at the bottom.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologised breathlessly, “this place is like a maze.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’ve got these for,” Soarin reminded him, pointing to his hoof computer.

“I know, but…” Trenderhoof said, his voice trailing off to a murmur, “those things are hard to use.”

“Is this is?” Blueblood exclaimed, drawing everypony’s attention. He strutted through the entrance hall examining his surroundings, “When they said trial, I expected something a little more…”

What he expected they didn’t find out, as his words were cut off by a low rumbling, the floor beneath their hooves trembling slightly. They all looked around wildly, looking for the source of the disturbance. Pinkie’s eyes finally landed on the staircase that Trenderhoof had just come down, which were now collapsing, clouds of dust rising as each individual step sank lower and lower until the whole staircase was levelled out. But it didn’t stop there, the steps instead descending further, the higher the step previously, the lower it sank so that when it finally ceased moving, the entire staircase had been inverted.

The group of ponies stared in silence at the newly formed staircase to the basement they didn’t know existed. Only brought out of their awe by the voice of the Mastermind echoing once more through the entrance hall.

“Please descend the stairs. It is time for the trial to begin.”

Author's Note

Much shorter part, much less waffle.
Feel free to propose possible solutions, all will be revealed in the next part.

C1: All Rise

Day 3, 12:18

The group was silent as they descended the marble steps, some anxious as to what awaited them beyond the pearly white door at the bottom, others lost in their own thoughts regarding the circumstances that led them here, Pinkie Pie most of all.

Twilight was killed by one of these ponies. I don’t know which… not yet at least. And when I do find out, I’ll… I’ll…

Pinkie stopped dead in her tracks as that thought dawned on her. What would she do when she discovered the identity of Twilight’s killer? She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Pinkie?” Pinkie looked up to see Vinyl waiting for her, the rest of the group already moving into the room beyond the door. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine, let’s just get this over with,” Pinkie assured her, walking ahead before adding in a whisper, “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Passing through the archway, Pinkie and Vinyl were forced to shield their eyes from the surprisingly intense blast of light. Peeking from behind her hooves, Pinkie began to make out the room they were standing in. They seemed to be in a wide, circular room. The word ‘rotunda’ floated to her mind from somewhere deep in her memories.

What really drew Pinkie’s eyes however, and those of every other pony gathered, was the construct stretching from the centre of the room, near to the edges, giving them all very little room to stand about. It appeared to be a chest high barrier, formed from a rather basic wooden banister. Around this barrier at regular intervals were semi-circular alcoves, directed inwards to the centre of the room that was inaccessible due to the barrier itself. Within each alcove was a small bench, upon which rested a dial of some sort.

Next was the section of floor within each of the alcoves, where a circular glyph carved, emanating an ominous white glow. The final aspect of the room that warranted the gathered ponies attention, were the screens mounted along the wall, one directly behind each alcove. They would have been identical to the one in the dining room, but for one major difference. Rather than displaying a blank or pixilated screen, each screen showed the faces of one of the ponies in the room. Pinkie saw her own smiling face staring back at her from the screen above the door, to the left of that Vinyl’s face was displayed, and to her right was a picture of Twilight, marred by a red X drawn across her face.

“Welcome to the court room,” the Mastermind’s voice greeted, the screen directly opposite Pinkie’s own, coming to life to display the familiar ocean of grayscale noise. “If you would all like to take your designated positions, we can begin.”

“What are these drawings on the ground?” Lightning Dust asked, crouching down beside one and tentatively poking it with an outstretched hoof.

“Those are binding runes,” the Mastermind explained, “Once you step inside it, you will be locked inside until the end of the trial.”

“And if we refuse?” Lightning challenged, standing up and facing the Mastermind’s screen defiantly.

“Then I’ll kill you myself and we can move on without you,” the Mastermind replied casually. Their words achieved the desired effect as the ponies began stepping into the alcoves in front of their own screens in a disgruntled but obedient fashion. “It’s so nice when ponies make things easy for themselves.”

Stepping into her own alcove, Pinkie decided to test what the Mastermind had just said by reaching out with a hoof, only to have it repelled like she was trying to force two positive ends of a magnet together. Once they were all standing ready in their positions, the screens displaying their faces flickered off, leaving only Twilight’s and the Mastermind’s on.

“It would be a shame to leave Twilight out of this just because one of you chose to end her life,” the Mastermind said, in a mock pitying tone. Pinkie gritted her teeth but remained silent. “Now, as you will have no doubt noticed, before each of you is a dial. At any point when you feel enough evidence has been presented, you may turn the dial to whom you believe is the culprit. May I ask Fleur to give us a quick demonstration?”

Fleur looked up, clearly surprised at having been picked out, but obeyed none the less, reaching forward with a hoof and turning the dial in front of her to a random point. As she did the screen behind her flicked to an image of Blueblood. Blueblood himself glaring daggers at Fleur for having made an example of him.

“Thank you,” the Mastermind said, Fleur’s screen returning to blank. “When everypony has voted, or refused to vote as the case may be, the guilty pony will be revealed. If the majority of ponies has voted against them, then justice will be served. If the majority do not vote against them however… Then everypony but the culprit will be executed, and the killer will walk free.”

This sudden revelation sparked a wave of shouts of outrage from many of the ponies gathered.

“You didn’t tell us we were all on the line!” Soarin shouted.

“Would you have come along so willingly otherwise?” the Mastermind asked condescendingly. “This will ensure none of you try to defy me by intentionally voting against somepony other than the culprit.”

“What exactly will happen to the culprit if they’re found guilty?” Pinkie asked, time to cross that bridge.

“They will be punished,” the Mastermind answered simply. “Are there any other questions before we begin?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” everypony looked over to Vinyl who was staring up at the Mastermind’s screen. “This room, I noticed something weird about it, I noticed the same thing about the dining room. There are places for sixteen ponies, but there were only ever fifteen of us.”

Indeed now that she had mentioned it, Pinkie hadn’t even realised there were an even number of alcoves and screens, the sixteenth of which was directly opposite her and displayed the Mastermind.

“How astute,” the Mastermind complimented, “however you needn’t worry about it. The answer, I’m sure you’ll find disappointingly simple… I’m a stickler for even numbers. That is all.”

“OCD much?” Vinyl whispered so only Pinkie to her immediate left could hear her. The pair shared a hushed giggle before the Mastermind spoke again.

“If that is all,” they said loudly, as if trying to silence the pair, “then let the first trial begin.”

Trial 1: Twilight Sparkle

“Well,” Trenderhoof said, nervously looking about to see if anybody else was going to start. “I guess we should state the obvious. Twilight Sparkle was killed in her room; she was obviously stabbed to death.”

That I know is wrong. Let’s start from there and see where we can get to.

“Actually that’s not right at all!” Pinkie interrupted, causing Trenderhoof to flinch in surprise.

“How could it not be the case?” he demanded, “she had the knife in her!”

“It does look that way I know,” Pinkie agreed, “but from her symptoms, we figured she must have been poisoned. Nurse Redheart examined the body; she can back me up on this.”

“As an Alicorn, it would have taken more than a mere knife to kill Twilight Sparkle,” Redheart concurred.

“I fail to shee what difference it makesh how she died,” Gizmo chipped in, rolling his eyes, “we all know who killed her, talking about it ish jusht washting time.”

“You have a suspect?” Fleur asked, surprised at Gizmo’s outburst.

“Of coursh I do, it’sh sho obvioush,” he replied, indeed making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The one who killed Twilight Shparkle was Prince Blueblood!”

Everyone followed Gizmo’s accusing hoof to see Blueblood rolling his eyes.

“Trust a mindless commoner to reach such a ridiculous conclusion,” he spat, ignoring Gizmo’s shout of annoyance.

“You’ve been getting up in everyponies flanksh shince we got here,” Gizmo continued, “Twilight eshpecially. Hash everypony forgotten what happened yesterday at dinner?”

“He has a good point,” Doughnut Joe agreed, “What were you talking to Twilight about yesterday? I could hear her shouting from the kitchens.”

“That is no one’s business but my own,” Blueblood stated flatly, turning his nose up.

“Give it a rest buddy,” Vinyl said, planting her forehooves on the bench in front of her. “Right now you’re our number one suspect, so unless you’re gonna come out and admit to it, you’d better start giving us some solid proof it wasn’t you.”

“If you must know,” Blueblood said with an aggravated sigh, “yesterday I had asked Twilight to marry me.”

Ha! We got hi… Wait, WHAT?!

“The truth is I have been taken with her for some time,” Blueblood continued, ignoring the wide eyed stares of everypony around him. “But it was only yesterday I found the courage to…”

“Oh give it a rest,” Fleur interrupted, causing Blueblood to shoot her a venomous glare. “The simple truth is, after I reminded you of your actual position in the royal court, you thought you’d be crafty and marry into royalty, thus giving you the authority you craved. You didn’t care about Princess Twilight; she was merely a means to an end.”

“Yeah, then she bitch slapped you like a boss,” Cloudchaser exclaimed, proceeding to laugh her ass off. Blueblood was now seething with anger once more.

“Thish jusht shupportsh my argument,” Gizmo cut in, “he had more motive than any of ush to hate Twilight.”

“Not that I’m arguing with you there,” Braeburn said awkwardly, “but don’t we all have a motive to kill? ‘Cause of this game and all?”

“That’sh why I shaid more motive,” Gizmor repeated, rolling his eyes.

“You seem pretty sure about your assumptions Gizmo,” Fleur commented, “why don’t you walk us through what you think happened.”

“Gladly,” Gizmo said, his voice brimming with confidence. “The way I shee it, Blueblood waited until Twilight was ashleep, forced hish way into her room, and shtabbed her while she shlept.”

That assessment has more holes than a hunk of cheese!

“That couldn’t have happened,” Pinkie cut in, causing Gizmo to frown in confusion.

“Uh, how couldn’t it?” He asked, scratching his head.

“Remember what Trixie told us yesterday, forcing our way through doors will result in punishment,” Pinkie stated, “And she wasn’t asleep when she was attacked as she was lying on top of the covers.”

“Alright then,” Gizmo began disgruntled, “how do you think it happened?”

“Well I believe Twilight invited the killer inside,” Pinkie explained, “I know this because Twilight’s key was in the lock, when normally she leaves it on her dresser. If we assume this is the case, then Twilight could have let the killer in and walked back to her bed and stood at the bottom end. It’s at that point the killer struck.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Soarin commented, “How could you possibly know any of that?”

“The stab wounds were in her back, but also her right side,” Pinkie elaborated, “if she did fall forward onto the bed after being attacked, the killer would needed to have approached from that direction.”

“Is she good or what”? Vinyl said laughing.

“So what you’re sayin’ is Twilight let the killer in,” Braeburn repeated, “heck, I don’t see how it could be Blueblood in that case.”

“It does make it less likely,” Fleur agreed, “but it doesn’t rule any of us out entirely, not yet at least.”

“If we’re just throwin’ out accusations,” Lightning Dust interrupted, “then I think it was Trixie.”

“Me?!” Trixie exclaimed, a snarl forming on her face.

“I heard about your little rivalry with Twilight Sparkle,” Lightning continued, “this would be the perfect opportunity to bump off the competition.”

“You might see life that way, but Trixie does not stoop to such dirty methods,” she countered.

“For what it’s worth,” Coco chipped in quietly, “Trixie and I were there when we discovered the body. From the look on her face when she saw… I don’t believe she had anything to do with it.”

“Oh, we’re basing guilt on looks now? Real professional!” Lightning snapped at Coco, causing her to whimper and sink low to the ground.

“Hey! Lay off her!” Vinyl shouted back.

“Ladies please,” Fleur interrupted before things could escalate, “We need to focus on facts, and stop making baseless accusations. Why don’t we look back at the poison?”

“What makes you so sure poison was used at all?” Doughnut Joe asked, looking to Pinkie, “isn’t it possible she was just suffering from regular blood poisoning, it might not have been part of the murder at all.”

He’s got a point. I have nothing to prove definitively that poison was the method employed.

“Actually,” a voice cut through Pinkie’s thought process, “Trixie believes she has the proof you need.”

Pinkie snapped her head up to see Trixie levitating a sheet a paper in front of everypony, upon it was written what looked like a series of instructions with diagrams alongside them.

“What is that?” Redheart asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Trixie found this blocking Twilight’s toilet,” she began to explain, “it is a recipe page, detailing the process to crafting the very poison Trixie believes was used to coat the blade that killed Twilight Sparkle.”

“Wait, is that why you seemed so interested in the blocked toilet?” Braeburn asked, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“Indeed, Trixie couldn’t rule it out as being unrelated to the case,” Trixie replied triumphantly.

“Doeshn’t thish prove Blueblood ish reshponshible?” Gizmo asked, “shurely with hish fancy upbringing, he’d have learnt to mix potions.”

“Actually it proves the exact opposite,” Fleur said, sounding genuinely disappointed, “as much as I hate to admit it, this piece of evidence proves Blueblood could not have killed Twilight.”

“Really? How?” Trenderhoof asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It proves nothing!” Blueblood snapped quickly.

“Really Blueblood,” Fleur said shaking her head, “Are you really so proud that you would continue to lie even when it would guarantee your innocence?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Blueblood insisted, fooling no-one.

“Would somepony please explain what’s going on,” Soarin begged.

“The truth is,” Fleur began; clearly relishing the look of fury Blueblood was aiming her way. “Prince Blueblood… is illiterate.”

“You don’t seriously mean…” Redheart began, sounding disbelieving.

“He can’t read?!” Cloudchaser exclaimed, before collapsing in another wave of raucous laughter.

“Indeed,” Fleur confirmed, ignoring the now swearing profusely Blueblood. “I found this out at last year’s Grand Galloping Gala. It makes sense after all, an individual as pompous as Blueblood, why would he ever need to learn something so common when he had dozens of servants at hoof to do it for him?”

“I guess that really does prove it,” Pinkie announced, “Blueblood couldn’t have mixed the poison, and Twilight would never have let him into her room, he couldn’t have killed her.”

“Hey Trixie,” Vinyl began in a pondering tone, “does the recipe for that poison include something called ‘Tartrazine’?”

“Huh?” Trixie replied, thrown off guard for a second before scanning the page. “Why yes, but how did you know that?”

“Well after Nurse Redheart figured out Twilight was poisoned, I headed up to the alchemy lab,” Vinyl explained, fishing the broken remains of the bottle she had found from her saddlebags. “While I was there I found this broken on the floor.”

So that’s what Vinyl was about to show me before we got called to the entrance hall.

“Pass it here,” Trixie requested, Vinyl obliged by levitating it out towards Trixie who accepted it and began examining it.

“Hey Trixie, can I see that after you?” Pinkie asked, receiving a nod of acknowledgement.

“I think it’s safe to assume the poison really was used,” Fleur said, “but that doesn’t bring us any closer to figuring out who mixed it.”

“What about the murder weapon?” Lightning asked, sounding bored, “where did it come from?”

“Oh yeah,” Braeburn exclaimed, suddenly remembering. Rummaging in his saddle bags he pulled out the knife.

“Did you manage to source that as Trixie asked you to?” Trixie asked calmly.

“Well about that,” Braeburn began nervously, “I actually have no clue where this thing came from.”

Trixie slammed her face into the bench in front of her, letting out a small moan that could have been from pain or frustration.

Wait a second, I know that knife…

“Braeburn,” Pinkie began, “could I see that knife?”

“Uh sure,” Braeburn said, relieved to have somepony take the burden from him. “Um, how do I…”

But before he could finish, the knife was wrapped in a pale pink aura and levitated over to Pinkie along with the bottle Trixie had been examining. Pinkie put the bottle to the side for the time being; instead she focused all her attention on the knife.

“This is one of the knives from the kitchen,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“How can you tell?” Redheart asked.

“Vinyl and I were in the kitchens last night, getting a snack,” Pinkie explained, “all the knives have these black handles. But more than that, this is a wavy edge kitchen knife; it’s specifically used for cutting things like tomatoes as teeth allow greater pressure to be exerted on the food, so it’s perfect for cutting through things with tough skin.”

“Now how in the hay do you know all that?” Lightning demanded.

“I work in a bakery,” Pinkie explained, giving a little shrug, “We don’t use vegetables, but you still learn these things.”

“So what’s to say you or Vinyl didn’t take that knife while you were in the kitchen last night?” Doughnut Joe asked.

“Seriously?” Vinyl asked disbelievingly, “you’re gonna accuse Twilight’s closest friend of murdering her?”

“What’s to say neither of us took it is the fact that we were having sandwiches last night, within which there were tomatoes,” Pinkie said, as if this somehow explained everything. When she was instead met with a series of blank stares she chose to elaborate. “We looked for this knife specifically, and couldn’t find it. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it’s obvious it had to have been stolen before that.”

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” Cloudchaser asked.

I think I’m starting to get a good idea of who’s responsible for this… but just to be sure, I need to know one last thing.

“Trixie,” Pinkie said, placing her hooves on the bench before her. “That recipe for the poison, did you figure out where it came from?”

“Yes I did,” Trixie answered, “I searched right up until the trial was called to order, and at last I found that it had been torn from a book called ‘The Venomous Enchiridion’”

“What section of the library did you find that book?” Pinkie asked, if she was right, this would be the last bit of evidence required.

“If I recall correctly, it was the Maple section.”

Bingo!

“Thank you Trixie,” Pinkie said quietly, “I think I know who was responsible for this now.”

Everypony in the room stared at her in shock, some gasping, others murmuring, one panicking.

“I guess it makes a kind of sense that a mage, whose special talent revolved around plants, would name the sections in his library after types of trees,” Pinkie began, “However the book you just mentioned wasn’t the only one to come from that section. A book called ‘1001 Popular Zebra Recipes’, a book picked out by the killer…

“Doughnut Joe!”

“What?!” Doughnut Joe exclaimed, his eyes stretching wide in horror.

“Seriously Pinkie, that guy?” Vinyl asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, I didn’t kill anyone, how could you even think that?” Doughnut Joe demanded.

“Care to explain your reasoning Pinkie,” Fleur requested.

“For starters, the murder weapon.” Pinkie held up the kitchen knife before everypony. “This knife clearly came from the kitchen, where Doughnut Joe has been working exclusively.”

“But I was in the kitchen as well,” Coco pointed out.

“That’s right, but you were the one delivering the food to the dining room,” Pinkie reminded her, “So Joe had plenty of time where he was alone in the kitchen to have hidden the knife. On top of that he was searching through the same section of the library where that recipe page was taken from, which he proved by taking a book from that very section.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Joe exclaimed, “Anypony could have taken that knife and page!”

“True, but I don’t think many of us could have made heads or tails of that recipe,” Pinkie proposed. “For anypony who’s never had experience mixing potions and stuff, it would be downright gibberish.”

“Well I’ve never mixed potions before!” Joe argued.

“No, but you are a baker, just like me,” Pinkie pointed out, “I could probably take a good stab at mixing that up, it would just be like following any other recipe, so I know you could too.”

“You’re just assuming!” Joe shouted.

“Next,” Pinkie continued, ignoring Joe’s shouts, “Twilight let the killer in, that means she must have known them, trusted them, and who would she have trusted more than the friendly baker she knew since she was a filly?”

“Exactly, I knew Twilight since she was just a kid, why would I kill her?” He demanded.

“You were desperate,” Pinkie said sadly, “We all are, and desperation can make ponies do crazy things.”

“And don’t forget about the hoof print,” Vinyl chipped in.

“What hoof print?” Trixie asked.

“There was a large plant pot up the hall from Twilight’s room,” Pinkie explained, “it had been knocked over and a hoof print had been made in the soil. It was still standing last night when Vinyl and I went to the kitchen, so whoever knocked it down did so after that and were in too much of a hurry to put it back up.”

“The hoof print itself was too big to big to belong to most ponies in this room,” Vinyl continued, “I’d say the only ponies big enough would be Blueblood, Braeburn and Joe.”

“None of this proves anything!” Joe shouted, slamming his hooves onto the bench, “I didn’t steal that knife, I wasn’t anywhere near Twilight’s room, and I didn’t mix that poison!”

“Yes you did,” Pinkie challenged triumphantly, “and I can prove it!”

The room fell silent, all eyes darted between Pinkie and Doughnut Joe, waiting with baited breath for what Pinkie was about to pull out of her sleeve.

“You’re not wearing your shirt today,” Pinkie said, rather anticlimactically.

“Yeah, so?”

“What if I told you that Coco found a shirt with a bright yellow stain today in the laundry room,” Pinkie continued, “a stain which, try as she might, she could not wash off.”

“Oh yeah,” Coco exclaimed giving a little gasp. “You don’t mean…”

Pinkie lifted the broken bottle so everyone could see it, particularly the remains of its content, coating the inside and staining it yellow.

“You broke the Tartrazine when you were mixing the poison,” Pinkie said, staring Doughnut Joe directly in the eyes, “it spilled on your shirt, so you dumped it in the laundry room before going to make your kill.”

Doughnut Joe was utterly silent, his mouth hung open, his whole body was paralysed.

“Do you deny it?” Pinkie asked.

“I… I…” Joe stammered. It was no good however, the stallion collapsed to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry; I just wanted to go home so badly.”

“We all want to go home,” Fleur reminded him, “and Princess Twilight was probably our best asset at achieving that.”

“Dude, how could you do that?!” Soarin demanded, “She trusted you man, and you stabbed her in the back!”

“I KNOW! DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW?!” Joe screamed, tears now streaming down his face. “I kept telling myself, it was for the best, if one of us could get out, if I could get out, I could get help, I could save the others. I didn’t know everypony would have to die for me to go free!”

Vinyl looked over at Pinkie; Pinkie saw the confusion etched in Vinyl’s face. She understood, she didn’t know how she felt either.

“Well, well, well,” The Mastermind’s voice echoed, some ponies jumped, having forgetting their screen had been on the entire time. “It looks like you’ve solved the mystery, about time too. I was about to declare it time to vote before you figured it all out. Oh well, no time like the present eh?”

Pinkie looked down to see the dial in front of her was now glowing.

“It’s voting time!” The Mastermind said gleefully.

“I can’t,” Coco said. Everypony looked to her. “I know what he did was wrong, but I can’t bring myself to sentence him to… whatever you have in store.”

“If you don’t,” Fleur began quietly, “we all pay the price.”

“Listen to your friend,” the Mastermind agreed, “lest you be the one to face execution.”

Pinkie looked down at her dial, then back up to Doughnut Joe where he lay, still sobbing and muttering apologies. She gave one small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, before turning her dial to Doughnut Joe.

When Doughnut Joe’s face appeared on the screen behind Pinkie, it wasn’t long before others began to follow suit. Soon all but three screens bore his face, one being his own, the second being the one that still showed Twilight’s face, and the final being the Mastermind’s screen.

“Alright, the votes are in,” the mastermind declared. Instantly all the screens blanked, instead only the Mastermind’s screen displaying large cartoonish letters reading ‘GUILTY’. This screen blanked and the ‘GUILTY’ letters moved across to Blueblood’s screen to the immediate right. It continued to travel across the screens, getting faster and faster until the screens resembled a roulette wheel. At last after several agonising seconds of clicking, the ‘GUILTY’ letters began slowing down, getting slower, and slower, before finally stopping completely on the screen behind Doughnut Joe.

A loud fanfare began to play, as mini fireworks and confetti danced across all the screens, however nopony felt like celebrating.

“Well done,” the Mastermind congratulated, “You correctly identified Twilight Sparkle’s killer. And you know what that means. Time for justice… to be served!”

“Wait!” Pinkie called out. She didn’t know what she wanted, but it wasn’t this, it wasn’t to see Twilight’s killer executed at the will of this psychopath.

But it was too late, even as the word left Pinkie’s mouth, the floor beneath Doughnut Joe disappeared, and he plunged into the abyss.

What… What happened to him?

Pinkie was spared wondering, when all at once, all sixteen screens flickered to show the same image. Doughnut Joe lay in a crumpled heap on what looked like a giant duvet. It wasn't until he started moving and Pinkie saw whatever it was sticking to him, that she realised it was dough. Doughnut Joe had been dropped into a giant vat of dough.

Pinkie only had a few seconds to ponder this before she saw something that made her heart stop dead in her chest. Dozens of long mechanical arms began reaching into the vat, each one moving in a rhythmic motion. As soon as they reached into the dough Pinkie realised with new-found horror what they were doing, they were kneading the dough… with Doughnut Joe in it!

Some ponies forced themselves to look away from the screens, but Pinkie was transfixed by it. Even when the arms’ tempo increased and Doughnut Joe was lost amidst the sea of dough, only his muffled, agonising screams to be heard, Pinkie still couldn’t tear her gaze from the screens. Soon the once uniform dough was streaked with red and pink, large chunks of 'Pinkie didn’t want to imagine what' scattered throughout it.

After what felt like an eternity, the arms retracted, and the vat began to tip. The screens zoomed out to show the contents of the vat being poured into a baking tray with little rings indented across it. When the tray was full of the sickening mixture it was then lifted by more arms into what looked like a giant furnace.

Time ticked by slowly, and for a while nothing happened. But eventually the screens flickered off, and the centre of the room opened up, something rising up from the depths. It was a platform, upon which rested a bowl, and inside the bowl were over a dozen surprisingly normal looking doughnuts.

“Doughnuts anypony?” the Mastermind asked before bursting into loud maniacal laughter. Pinkie stared at the bowl, her stomach churning, her head feeling faint.

I didn’t want this…

Author's Note

But he seemed so nice... Ah well, just goes to show you, appearances can be deceiving.
Well that's it for chapter 1. If you haven't already figured, each chapter will consist of the lead up, the investigation, and the trial.
I've already encouraged anybody to comment their suspicions, but why don't we make a game of it? If you comment or PM me the correct culprit in the following chapters, I'll give you a shout out in the Author's Notes of the trial part of the chapter.

C2: Live Happy Or Die Free

Day 4, 08:01

Pinkie lay, spread eagle on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The aftermath of yesterday’s trial had been… subdued. Everypony had somewhat silently agreed to just go to their rooms for the night. Perhaps some of them left the solitude of their rooms at some point, maybe to get dinner, Pinkie wouldn’t know, she certainly didn’t.

“Vinyl is coming up to check on you,” the Mastermind’s voice said, Pinkie wasn’t half surprised that they could speak to her in any room. “You’re the only one not present at your morning get together, the others are getting worried.”

Pinkie didn’t respond, how was she expected to respond to an omnipresent being that took pleasure in watching them kill each other?

“You’re going to be here a long time,” the Mastermind continued, “you might as well try to enjoy your new life instead of moping in here alone.”

That made Pinkie sit up. “You don’t want us to live here do you?” she asked in a low tone, “all that stuff you said about us living together in this mansion forever, it was a load of crap wasn’t it? The simple truth is, if we had accepted that from the start you would have just found some other way of making us turn on each other.”

“You’re making me sound like some kind of sadist Pinkie,” the Mastermind replied, in a mock hurt tone. “I resent that accusation.”

“Really,” Pinkie said, clearly not buying the act, “then why don’t you tell me what the point of all this is if it’s not to watch us slaughter each other, because I don’t believe for a second you really wanted us to live here together.”

“The truth?” the Mastermind began thoughtfully, “the truth is…”

“Pinkie!” a voice rang out, followed by a loud rapping on the bedroom door. “Please tell me you’re in there!”

“It’s open Vinyl,” Pinkie called back disappointed, she guessed the Mastermind wouldn’t be coming back. The door swung open and Vinyl slinked in, her glasses absent. She briefly looked at the inside of the door, seeing the key wasn’t in the lock.

“Tell me you didn’t leave the room unlocked all night,” Vinyl demanded, sounding both furious and worried. Pinkie didn’t answer, she hadn’t locked the door, she didn’t know why. Guessing she wasn’t going to answer, Vinyl gave a small sigh and sat on the end of Pinkie’s bed. “Look, I know yesterday was hard on you, it was for everypony. But we can’t just lie down and accept this pathetic excuse for a life. We need to fight back, and to do that we need everypony to work together.”

“I know,” Pinkie whispered, not meeting Vinyl’s eye.

“Do you? Because it looks to me like you’re lying up waiting for someone to come do you in!” Vinyl shouted, causing Pinkie to flinch. She seemed to regret it almost immedietly. “I’m sorry Pinkie, I didn’t mean to say…”

“No,” Pinkie said abruptly, “you said exactly what you meant…”

Vinyl cringed as Pinkie turned to look at her, preparing for the worst.

“And it was exactly what I needed to hear,” Pinkie finished, smiling slightly. Vinyl blinked in surprise before smiling herself. “I’m sorry for being so moody.”

“Don’t be,” Vinyl insisted, “anyone in your position would be.”

“So,” Pinkie began a little more upbeat, hoping off the bed. “How about we go see the rest and discuss how we’re gonna get out of here?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Vinyl replied, an together the pair walked out of the room, running straight into Coco who had her ear pressed up against the closed over door.

“Oh,” she squeaked in a panicked tone. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, I was just worried about Pinkie so I came to check and I heard you talking and…”

She didn’t have time to finish before she was pulled into big hug, knocking the air from her lungs.

“Aww, thank you so much Coco,” Pinkie cooed into the smaller ponies neck while she embraced her. “I appreciate it.”

“As sweet as this whole scene is,” Vinyl chipped in, “you might want to loosen up there or the next trial is going to be to find out who suffocated Coco Pommel.”

Day 4, 08:24

“Ah look, she’s finally decided to stop being lazy,” Blueblood commented upon seeing Pinkie enter the room. Fleur, who was sitting across from him, narrowed her eyes, her horning glowing as an apple found its way forced into Blueblood’s mouth.

“Speak when spoken to,” she said snidely before turning to Pinkie, all the while ignoring Blueblood’s choking noises. “I’m glad to see you up and about, we were beginning to worry.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry for causing a bother,” Pinkie replied, rubbing her foreleg sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Fleur dismissed, telekinetically pulling out three chairs for Pinkie, Coco and Vinyl. “Come, get something to eat. Braeburn has kindly taken up the role of cooking.”

“Yeah, and we’re gonna run inventory on the kitchen every day to make sure nopony sneaks off with anything dangerous,” Braeburn chipped in.

“So what are we going to do today?” Pinkie asked while buttering a bread roll.

“Well I’m gonna keep looking into the screens,” Vinyl replied pouring herself a glass of orange juice, “plus I thought I’d take a look at that staircase in the entrance hall. The Mastermind must be operating it remotely too.”

“Trixie will be in the library,” Trixie added, appearing behind Pinkie causing her to jump. “Carrying on with what Twi… we started the other day.”

“You know, it can’t be all work and no play guys,” Soarin pointed out, “you’ll drive yourselves up the wall if you don’t take time to relax.”

“Every minute spent relaxing is a minute that could be spent figuring out how to get out of here lost,” Trixie stated coolly.

“Hey I’m not saying that’s not important,” Soarin quickly began to explain; “I’m just saying that if you all get stressed out you won’t be able to achieve much.”

“So what would you suggest?” Fleur asked, sipping her tea.

“Well as an athlete I can safely say exercise is the best way for reducing stress,” Soarin informed them, “how about it? Cloudchaser, Lightning Dust, we could go flying in the afternoon, and we’ve got that pool, why don’t we use it?”

“Huh, I do kind of like swimming,” Trenderhoof admitted, smiling at the idea.

“That’s the spirit,” Soarin encouraged, “we should make a routine of it, every morning at about ten we head over there and do a few laps.”

“That actually sounds like fun,” Trenderhoof agreed, “count me in.”

“Anypony else?” Soarin asked looking to the others.

“I’d be game for the flying,” Lightning said, “but swimming isn’t really my thing.”

“Great,” Soarin said, before addressing the whole group. “Just find something you enjoy, trust me, we’ll all make more progress because of it.”

I have to admit, he does make a good point. I could do a little running every morning, it would give me a chance to search the grounds more, and then when I’m done I could see if Vinyl or Trixie needs help.

“I think that sounds like a great idea,” Pinkie said at last, taking a bite out of her nearly forgotten roll.

Day 4, 10:46

Pinkie plopped herself down on a stone bench, fanning herself with a hoof as she panted profusely. She had to hand it to Soarin; exercise was good for relieving stress. Pinkie stopped fanning and looked around her. If it wasn’t for the giant mansion clear as day from any point on the grounds, she would have been thoroughly lost. She decided some time ago to stray off the path and take her run through the garden itself.

She’d never seen so many plants in all her life, certainly not living at Ponyville. Trenderhoof really hadn’t been joking when he said plants were Orchid’s specialty. Picking herself up she began to walk again, this time barely looking where she was going as she examined her hoof computer. The thing seemed to be a compact library, all Pinkie had to do was point it at any random plant and she would be flooded with information on it.

Pinkie was so amused by this feature that she didn’t even notice the figure step out of undergrowth and creep up behind her, at least she didn’t until her tummy rumbled and her nostrils flared: the Pinkie sense combo meaning she was being followed.

Pinkie spun around, bringing her hooves up to shield her face, not that she needed to as her stalker made no attempt to attack her. Instead Blueblood stood quite still, staring down at her with undisguised loathing.

“What do you want?” Pinkie demanded, taking a hasty step back from Blueblood.

“What? Are you the only one allowed to take that Wonderbolt’s advice?” He asked as if he were talking down to a child. “Or maybe you’re the only one who’s allowed to wander around these grounds.”

“I mean why are you following me?” Pinkie specified, not about to take any of Blueblood’s crap, “I suggest you answer, because after the way you’ve treated my friends I’m pretty tempted to buck you to the moon.”

“I’d like to see a puny filly like you try,” Blueblood said, giving Pinkie the first genuine smile she’d seen on him, although it was easily creepier and more threatening than cheery. Pinkie took another step back, but Blueblood stepped forward.

“Don’t try anything!” Pinkie warned him, slightly afraid herself. “I’ll scream!”

“Oh get over yourself, if I wanted to kill you you’d already be dead,” Blueblood said rolling his eyes. Pinkie halted, surprised by the bluntness of what he said.

“Then what do you want?” Pinkie repeated.

“I just wanted to say…” Blueblood began, but he didn’t get any further than that.

“Hey!” a voice rang out above them. They both looked up to see Cloudchaser hovering overhead. She swiftly descended, dropping next to Pinkie and facing Blueblood in an aggressive pose. “You mind telling me what you’re doing out here?”

“Nothing,” Blueblood replied casually, turning away from the pair.

“Don’t let me catch you around her or anypony else you hear!” Cloudchaser shouted after the slowly retreating Blueblood, he didn’t acknowledge her threat. Once he was out of sight Cloudchaser turned to Pinkie, a look of relief on her face. “You okay? He didn’t try to hurt you did he?”

“No, I don’t know what he was gonna do,” Pinkie replied honestly.

“Well we should probably head back,” Cloudchaser said warily, “and we’ll tell Fleur about this, she seems to be good at keeping Blue in line.”

“Sure,” Pinkie agreed, “thanks for showing up anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cloudchaser insisted, “we girls gotta stick together.”

“How did you know we were out here though?” Pinkie asked as the pair began to walk back towards the mansion.

“Well I thought I’d take Soarin’s advice and go out for a little flight,” Cloudchaser began to explain, “he’s over at the pool and I think Lightning headed back to her room, probably to catch some zees. Anyway, I saw him walking around the gardens; he kept looking at his hoof computer. I figured the slimy weasel was up to no good, so I followed him just to make sure.”

“Wait, he wasn’t following me?” Pinkie asked surprised.

“I guess not,” Cloudchaser admitted, “I assumed he just came by you by accident until he started getting up in your face.”

“Strange, I wonder what he was doing out this far,” Pinkie pondered.

“With that guy, who knows,” Cloudchaser said brushing it aside. “Let’s just get back to the house and find Fleur.”

“Sure,” Pinkie replied absent minded, glancing down at her hoof computer as she walked.

What could Blueblood have been looking up that led him out here?

Day 4, 16:33

“Well, after taking this thing apart piece by piece and putting it back together again, I can safely say I have no idea how it works,” Vinyl said, standing over the now reassembled screen on the dining room table. “You can stick it back up Gizmo.”

“What?” Gizmo explained, still panting from when he had to take it down for Vinyl in the first place. “Can’t you jusht ushe your telekineshis?”

“Well what kind of gentlestallion would you be if you made me do it on my own?” Vinyl asked in mock horror. Redheart shook her head disapprovingly, but failed to hide her smirk from Pinkie Pie who was sitting next to her. “But I guess, I can do it if you really won’t help out a mare in need…”

“No wait!” Gizmo exclaimed, jumping to his hooves and rushing forward. “I can do it, don’t you worry about it.”

“Thanks, you’re a dear,” Vinyl said walking away and leaving Gizmo to the heavy lifting.

“You are just terrible,” Redheart said, not even trying to hide her amusement.

“Yeah I know,” Vinyl responded proudly.

“So you really didn’t figure out anything?” Pinkie asked despondently.

“Well I figured out some stuff, I just said that a minute ago for dramatic effect,” Vinyl admitted, earning a sigh of frustration from Redheart which she ignored. “Basically its run by a power crystal, which is receiving its power input from an outside source, my guess is that source is the Mastermind itself.”

“So they really are a unicorn?” Pinkie asked.

“Most likely, but like Trixie said, it is possible for another race to use magic given the right tools and training,” Vinyl explained. “Now magic isn’t my thing, but from what I could tell, the magic is being sent from somewhere inside this mansion!”

“The Mastermind’s here?!” Pinkie exclaimed, Redheart simply opened her eyes wide but didn’t say anything.

“That’s what it looks like,” Vinyl emphasised, “but like I said, magic isn’t really my thing, I’ll have to get Trixie to look into it later, if she ever comes out of that library.”

So the Mastermind is this mansion with us. But we’ve been in every room… every room except one.

“Hey careful with that Gizmo!” Vinyl shouted as Gizmo nearly dropped the screen trying to remount it on the wall. “That thing’s high quality, I plan to sell it once we get out of here.”

Vinyl turned back to the others, Redheart was giving her a disbelieving look.

“What?” Vinyl asked innocently, “Might as well have some good come from this whole escapade.”

Day 5, 09:34

“And that’s how Equestria was made,” Pinkie finished causing Vinyl to burst out laughing and Coco to give a polite smile.

“I told yah she was full of the best stories,” Vinyl said, clapping Pinkie on the back.

“Yeah, that one was really funny,” Coco agreed before spotting Lightning Dust walking around the corner towards them. “Oh Lightning, we’re going for a jog, would you like to join us?”

“Nah, I can never do hard exercises right after eating,” Lightning explained, “I’m just gonna head to my room to do some light cardio for my flight with Soarin later.”

“Don’t we have a gym for that?” Vinyl asked.

“Yeah, but that nerdy guy is in there,” Lightning mentioned, cringing at the thought. “He keeps chatting me up and it’s really freaking me out.”

“Aw, Gizmo’s a nice guy,” Pinkie insisted.

“Maybe he is, he’s just not really my type you know,” Lightning continued, “Braeburn on the other hoof…”

Lightning gave a low whistle, Vinyl nodded in agreement.

“I can’t really speak there,” Pinkie said, “I’m pretty sure he’s my cousin.”

“Seriously?” Lightning asked sounding hopeful. “Do you think you couldn’t, I don’t know, speak me up to him? See if he bites.”

“I’ll see him in the kitchen during dinner time,” Coco chipped in, “I could bring it up then if you’d like.”

“Would you?” Lightning asked turning her slightly shimmering eyes to Coco, “I’d really appreciate that.”

“Oh it’s no bother,” Coco insisted blushing slightly.

“Thanks anyway,” Lightning said, making to walk around them. “I’ll catch you girls later; have fun on your run.”

“We will,” Pinkie called after her

“She seems to have gotten a lot friendlier since we first got here,” Coco commented as they carried on walking.

“Yeah, I was hanging with her yesterday in the sauna,” Vinyl began, “I think the whole trial thing really shook her, she said she’s been trying to get on better with everypony since.”

“That’s nice,” Coco said quirking an eyebrow, “and terrible I think.”

“I think we were all affected by the trial,” Pinkie stated staring at her hooves as they were walking.

“You girls don’t think he deserved that do you?” Coco asked quietly, “I know what he did was wrong but…”

“No,” Vinyl said determined, “nopony deserved to go out that way.”

“Maybe not,” a voice said behind them. They all spun around to see Fleur standing a few feet behind them. “But don’t forget, the punishment for murder is only exile, but the punishment for treason is death. While I don’t agree with the method employed, I stand by the fact that he got what he deserved.”

“That’s all well and good, but do you mind not sneaking up on us!” Vinyl exclaimed, looking like she was recovering from a heart attack.

“My apologies,” Fleur said sincerely, “I was hoping to speak to Pinkie.”

“Me?” Pinkie repeated surprised, Fleur nodded. “Uh, sure. You two head on, I’ll meet you outside.”

“Sure,” Vinyl said hesitantly. When they were several metres away she called back one last time. “We’re heading out through the door beside the pool, we’ll see you there.”

“Sorry for dragging you away from your friends Pinkie,” Fleur began once they were out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, you’re my friend too,” Pinkie replied giggling slightly. Fleur’s elegant façade slipped for a brief second to reveal a look of genuine surprise before it was replaced and she carried on talking.

“Cloudchaser told me what happened yesterday,” she continued.

“Oh,” Pinkie replied, she should have expected this. “What did you want to know?”

“For starters, do you remember exactly where you were?” Fleur asked. Pinkie thought about it a moment before answering.

“The North-East corner of the grounds I think,” she replied, almost certain. “I’m not sure where precisely or how far out I was. Why?”

“From what Cloudchaser told me,” Fleur continued, looking briefly over her shoulder to ensure they were alone, “I don’t believe Blueblood set out to follow you, but rather stumbled upon you by accident. So I want to know what he was doing out there.”

“Maybe it’s nothing suspicious,” Pinkie suggested, although she didn’t believe it herself. “Maybe he really did just want to take Soarin’s advice.”

“Cloudchaser said she saw him looking at his hoof computer repeatedly,” Fleur said, apparently ignoring what Pinkie had proposed. “Don’t you see anything odd about that?”

Odd? What would be odd about it? After all I was using to get tonnes of information about different plants I could…

“Oh,” Pinkie said, as it dawned on her what Fleur was hinting at. “He can’t read. So what was he looking at on the computer?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” Fleur said nodding, “There’s no map of grounds, and all information provided on plants and features outside is purely text based. So what could he have been looking at?”

“Or listening to,” Pinkie suggested. “But, what do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know,” Fleur admitted, “but I don’t trust it. If I had to point out the weak link in our group it would be him.”

The pair stood in the corridor in silence for some time before Fleur finally spoke up.

“Pinkie, do you think you and I would be able to go out walking tomorrow?” she asked casually, “see if we can find where you encountered Blueblood.”

“Sure, if you think it will help,” Pinkie replied, surprised at the request.

“I believe it might,” Fleur specified, “anyway, I will let you get back to your friends now. Thank you for your time.”

“Don’t worry about it, what are friends for?”

That slip again… is she really so surprised to be considered a friend?

Day 5, 15:20

“And you waited until now to inform Trixie of this!” Trixie reprimanded. She had already been tightly wound at having been disturbed while reading, finding out that Vinyl had taken a whole day to inform her of what she found out from the screen, seemed to be the last straw.

“Sorry Trixie, we were busy,” Vinyl tried to justify.

“Busy running around outside and lounging in the games room,” Trixie corrected. “Trixie knew no good would come from that stallion’s suggestion of finding time to relax, it would seem you have all lost focus of what we are trying to achieve here!”

“Hey we want to get out as much as you do,” Vinyl snapped back, “but Soarin had a point, you’ve been in here for almost an entire day, and how much have you found?!”

“Trixie is very close to making a breakthrough,” Trixie stammered, “She is sure of it.”

“Quit talking out your ass Trixie,” Vinyl continued, “you need a break, and you can’t argue otherwise because you’re getting nothing done here.”

“How about you tell us what to look for and we take over reading for a bit?” Pinkie suggested, hoping to defuse the tension a little. “You could maybe head down to the sauna or the pool.”

“Trixie doubts either of you would know what to search for,” she began, before seeming to cool off a little. “But I suppose I could do with a break. I’ll go take a look at that power crystal now.”

“I thought you said you were taking a break,” Vinyl questioned.

“Trixie is,” she replied, “this won’t pose much of a challenge.

“Fine,” Vinyl said, defeated, “I’ll get Gizmo to lend a hoof.”

“Trixie can just use telekinesis to lift the screen down.”

“Yeah but it’s more fun having Gizmo do it, trust me,” Vinyl replied, brightening up enough to flash a cocky grin.

Day 5, 19:04

Pinkie stared at the portrait. It was the same as it had been when her, Twilight and Trenderhoof had stood here. So why was she so enthralled by it now? Almost subconsciously Pinkie raised her front left hoof, pointing her hoof computer at the painting. She heard the familiar beep as it seemed to register what it was looking at. Swinging her hoof back to eye level she stared at the screen that had now appeared.

No information available.

Day 6, 01:01

Pinkie lay once more, spread eagle on her bed, not because she was feeling down in the dumps but because she was roasting under the covers. She longed to breathe some cool air, but she knew she shouldn’t leave the room, it was too risky. Instead she stood up and approached the window. Unfortunately when she got there, it was exactly as it had been the last dozen times she had come here with the intention of opening it.

The glass was completely flushed to the frame, which was in turn flushed to the window sill, making it impossible to open. Pinkie sighed in frustration, waking over and collapsing on her bed once more. She knew she’d regret breaking it later, but at this point she was sorely tempted. Her eyes were just sliding shut when a beep caused her to open them again.

Snapping her head up, she looked over at the bedside table where her hoof computer sat, the screen lit up for some reason. Curiously she reached out for it, finding it was displaying a new screen.

Room settings.

Confused, she browsed through the new page, finding several options available to her including room service and escort service, but the one that caught her attention at that point was one of the few that weren’t greyed out.

Air conditioning.

Clicking into this she was greeting with a slider bar, currently siting at zero. Feeling hopeful, she slid the pointer to the right and was immediately rewarded with a surge of cool air blowing into the room from what she had assumed was the skirting boards. Shifting the slider to a point she was satisfied with, she lay back on her bed, smiling happily despite the thought floating around her skull.

Why did my hoof computer turn on and go to that page just when I needed it most?

Day 6, 09:10

“Are you ready to go Pinkie?” Fleur asked, approaching the mare outside the dining room.

“Yeah, sure,” Pinkie said, waving goodbye to Vinyl who was heading off with Coco and Braeburn. Fleur simply nodded and began leading the way towards the kitchen. Pinkie made to follow her, but seemingly on instinct she glanced over her shoulder and peered into the dining room. Was it her imagination or had Blueblood been watching her?

“Pinkie?” Fleur called, having reached the door to the kitchen before realising Pinkie wasn’t behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” Pinkie called, trotting forward. Together the pair entered the kitchens and began making for the rear where they knew was a small utility room with a door to the outside.

“The gardens are truly breath taking, wouldn’t you agree?” Fleur asked as they walked out to the grounds.

“Huh, oh yeah, they’re pretty awesome,” Pinkie agreed.

“I had asked Princess Twilight if she would like to walk through them with me on the second day,” Fleur continued, her voice taking on an odd tone. “She seemed delighted at the prospect; however… it never came to be.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Pinkie began, she sounded tentative, this might be a touchy subject and she didn’t want to upset or annoy Fleur. “Why do you always call Twilight, Princess Twilight?”

“Because she is a… was a princess,” Fleur answered, as if it were obvious. “It would be rude of me not to address her as such.”

“But Twilight really didn’t care for titles, anything really that made her seem more important than anypony else,” Pinkie informed her.

“I know, she did tell me,” Fleur admitted, “She truly was a modest one.”

“If she did, then why do you insist on calling her by it?” Pinkie asked again. Fleur fell silent briefly, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

“I guess… it’s just a personal thing,” she said at last. Pinkie nodded, realising she shouldn’t pry, but to her surprise Fleur carried on talking. “I’m not from Equestria originally.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Pinkie said, “I did notice the accent.”

“A lot of ponies do, it’s hard to shake off,” Fleur admitted. “I was originally born to middle class family in Prance; I lived there for ten years of my life.” Pinkie didn’t say anything, merely listened. “My sisters and I were never spoilt, but nor did we struggle, our parents worked for an honest living and thus we got by. We had the essentials, food, shelter, but more than that we had each other. I never realised at the time how lucky I was.

“But all good things come to an end,” Fleur said, her voice turning dark. “When the civil war in Prance broke out, it was chaos, cities were burnt to the ground, families were torn apart, and ponies were killed in the street. It quite quickly became impossible to live there. My family along with a few others from our neighbourhood, sought to escape, to flee to Equestria to seek asylum. We travelled for days, only moving under cover of dark and hiding in the burnt out husks of homes, or the buildings that used to be homes.

“Along the way we steadily lost the other families,” she continued, “whether it was because they decided to go their own ways or because the soldiers got them didn’t matter, I never heard of them after they left. Soon it was only my parents and my only remaining sister, two already lost to the hunger and the cold. We were so close to the border, at long last hope was in sight… but that was when they found us.”

Pinkie cringed, already knowing where Fleur’s story was going, but she didn’t stop her, she continued to listen as the pair continued to walk through the gardens.

“It was my parents’ final act,” Fleur continued, her voice cracking now, “giving my sister and I what little supplies we had and distracting the soldiers head on, giving us our opportunity to escape. We didn’t make it far, two weak, hungry fillies, looking back now we never had a hope. They caught up to us, that’s when it was all going to end, our parents’ sacrifice would be for nothing… but then she came.”

Pinkie looked up at Fleur, her eyes were shining with tears, but beyond those, Pinkie could see a light shimmering.

“Princess Celestia charged in,” she continued, awe painted on her face. “She brought the fury of the sun down upon the soldiers, and then offered its warmth to my sister and me. She took us to Canterlot, kept us in the castle, saw to it personally that we were fed and looked after, all the while travelling back and forth between Equestria and Prance, protecting the innocent and rescuing the needy. By the time the war came to an end, Canterlot castle resembled a refugee camp, and Celestia made time for every one of the ponies she’d saved.

“She comforted us when we were sad, played with us when we were happy, and she saw to it that every survivor was reunited with the families they had been separated from, and in cases where there were no families like me and my sister, she treated us like her own children.” Pinkie too was in tears now, although she kept quiet, letting Fleur finish. “I eventually took on a job in the Royal Court and earned my cutie mark doing so. I made enough through my own efforts that I was able to afford a house for my sister. I myself found a home with a kind young stallion who had helped me when I first began working in the court, who eventually became the love of my life and my husband.

“I am still to this day welcome amongst the Royal Court and Princess Celestia herself,” Fleur finished, “She is like a mother to me, I owe her everything. That is why I insist on referring to her and Twilight by their proper titles, if Princess Celestia believed Twilight was fit to stand alongside her, then I will offer her the same respect I would to Princess Celestia.”

Pinkie was dumbfounded by what she had just heard, she hadn’t expected that from asking a seemingly simple question, none the less she couldn’t help but feel immense respect for the mare waking beside her.

“That was…” Pinkie began, not sure what she could say, “I knew Celes… I mean, Princess Celestia was amazingly kind, but to do all that…”

“She is extraordinary,” Fleur agreed with a slight nod, her eyes shut.

At some point during the story Pinkie had led them off the path at around the point she remembered doing so during her run, and now she had the distinct feeling that they were getting closer to their destination.

“It should be right over here,” Pinkie said quietly, still shell shocked from hearing Fleur’s tale.

“This is where Blueblood snuck up on you?” Fleur asked.

“Yeah,” Pinkie confirmed stopping in the clearing they had spoken in. “He had said he wanted to tell me something, but then Cloudchaser jumped in and he dropped it.”

“Most curious,” Fleur replied, pacing around the clearing. Pinkie wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find, but after a few minutes she heard Fleur gasp. Pinkie spun around to see Fleur crouched down, examining something on the ground. Pinkie hurried forward and jumped down at her side, staring at the patch of earth Fleur was looking at.

At first glance it appeared perfectly ordinary, and Pinkie wondered why Fleur had gasped, but then she saw it. An indent in the dirt, created by a solid object being pressed into it, the object itself nowhere to be seen. An indent in the shape of a key.

Day 6, 15:56

“Are you girls serious?” Braeburn asked as he continued chopping vegetables. He sounded doubtful, but Pinkie was sure she saw a hint of hope in his eyes.

“You bet we are,” Pinkie confirmed, leaning against the kitchen bench. “Lightning Dust is all over you.”

“Well, don’t tell her we told you that, but yeah she really is,” Coco agreed. Braeburn seemed to think about it for a moment.

“Come on what’s to think about?” Pinkie asked excitedly, “Lightning is a total catch; you two would make such a cute couple.”

“Oh it’s nothin’ against her,” Braeburn said horridly, “she’s really pretty, and she’s been right friendly to me these past few days. I just don’t know if a relationship would work, especially in here.”

“That’s understandable I guess,” Coco admitted slightly disappointed, “but at least think about it.”

“Oh you can bet I will,” Braeburn assured them, “a sweet girl like Lightning Dust, I’d be crazy to say I wouldn’t.”

“That’s good,” Coco said, lifting the plates of salad Braeburn had just finished preparing and adding them to her tray. “Pinkie, could you carry those jugs of water for me?”

“Sure thing Coco,” Pinkie said, balancing the jugs on her back and following Coco out of the kitchen. Once they were out in the hall they began silently squealing with delight.

“Oh Lightning is going to be so happy,” Pinkie whispered, “should we tell her?”

“Let’s wait until Braeburn makes up his mind,” Coco said cautiously, “we don’t want to give her any false hope.”

“Oh Braeburn will say yes, I can promise you that.”

Day 7, 12:00

Pinkie happily skipped down the hall, she really needed to thank Soarin for that advice on exercising, these runs were doing wonders for keeping her mood up. She hadn’t forgotten about Twilight, how could she? But she wouldn’t let this game get her down; she wouldn’t let the Mastermind beat her. Pinkie probably should have kept her eyes open as she skipped down the hall as she might have seen the puddle of water lying before her, and she might not have slipped and fallen on back.

“Ouch,” she said, although she wasn’t in any real pain. Sitting up she looked around her, trying to figure out what was going on. The water she had slipped on seemed to be part of a trail running along the corridor. In one direction she was sure the swimming pool was located, in the other she could swear she heard voices. Curiosity overcoming her, she stood up and proceeded to walk towards where she could hear the voices.

As she came around the corner she found Fleur, Cloudchaser and Lightning Dust standing outside a closed door.

“Hey girls,” Pinkie greeted, walking forward to join the group.

“Oh, hey Pinkie,” Cloudchaser greeted back upon seeing the newcomer. “Did you see the water too?”

“Yeah, what’s with it?” Pinkie asked.

“We’re not sure,” Lightning answered, “it led to this room but the door won’t open.”

Pinkie looked down at her hoof computer, bringing up the digital map. “It says this room is one of the parlours,” she said, not that that helped to explain anything.

“I think it’s been barricaded from the other side,” Fleur said, her horn glowing, “I might be able to shift it, but it’s going to be hard not seeing what it is.”

After a minute or two they heard the loud scraping of something dragging across the wooden floor. Once it stopped Fleur gave the door a little nudge. As soon as she did Pinkie was hit with a faint odour.

Cloudchaser sniffed the air, a confused expression on her face, “What is that smell?”

Lightning Dust sniffed a little before she exclaimed and clutching her nostrils, a twisted expression on her face.

It’s not that bad.

Fleur hadn’t reacted to the smell, but she had a wary look on her face, and Pinkie understood why. It wasn’t as strong as the last time she had smelt it, but it was no doubt the beginning of the same thing.

Fleur pushed the door open wide, Pinkie braced herself for what lay beyond…

She could never have braced herself enough.

Trenderhoof lay flat on his face, a large pool of blood formed under his head, one half of his skull caved in.

Oh no… not again.

Author's Note

You have once again entered the world of survival horror... I mean, murder mystery.
From now on I'm going to be updating less frequently to give more people a chance to read and propose theories, after all the game wouldn't be any fun if I published the final part of the chapter before any one had time to guess the identity of the culprit.
Also, I've noticed the horizontal rules used to signify jumps in time don't show up very well on the default 'light' and 'medium light' format setting. The irony being that these are the only format settings where the picture at the end of the trial shows up well.

C2: Closed Room Murder

Day 7, 12:06

“Fillies and Gentlecolts! It brings me great joy to inform you that the second body has just been discovered in a parlour on the west wing of the first floor. Please follow the directions currently being sent to your hoof computers, the time for investigation is now, the second trial is just around the corner. Have fun!”

Day 7, 12:10

Twelve ponies were gathered in the parlour, surrounding the newest body. Pinkie couldn’t help but think how it looked like something out of one of her murder mystery dinners, in any other circumstances it might have made her laugh.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” Cloudchaser exclaimed frustrated. “So much for everypony working together to get out of here.”

“Hey now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Braeburn began hurriedly, “For all we know, the Mastermind did this to try and turn us against each other.”

“I don’t see that being likely,” Fleur said with a little sigh, turning away from the body. “No, I think we have to accept the fact that once again a murderer is amongst our numbers.”

“Sho who ish it thish time?” Gizmo asked, scanning the surrounding ponies.

“I guess we won’t know until we investigate,” Pinkie said, hanging her head.

“Are you dimwits serious?!” Blueblood exclaimed, causing everypony to look at him, some in surprise, most in annoyance. “This case couldn’t be more clear cut, the culprit is as plain as day.”

“Care to enlighten us Blueballs,” Vinyl said in a sickly sweet tone. Blueblood did not rise to her insult, instead maintaining an attitude of lofty superiority.

“If any of you stopped to use your brains you would see that the culprit is, beyond a doubt, none other than that Wonderbolt Soarin!”

“What?!” Soarin exclaimed from the sofa where he sat next to Redheart who was attempting to monitor his pulse. “Look here buddy…”

Soarin didn’t get much further than that as he had tried to stand up and immediately began swaying dangerously. Redheart and Coco quickly leapt up to catch him before he collapsed again, placing him gently back down on the sofa.

“Soarin, seriously?” Lightning exclaimed, “Just look at the state he’s in!”

Indeed Soarin had been the last to arrive at the crime scene, and upon stumbling in he immediately threw up the contents of his stomach upon seeing the dead body.

“A clever charade,” Blueblood said dismissively.

“We haven’t even investigated yet,” Braeburn said, “what possible reason could you have for suspecting him?”

“Clearly none of you noticed the trail of water to this room,” Blueblood began, Pinkie was nearly going to interrupt him there but he continued before she could. “It obviously leads from here to the swimming pool where Trendyhoof and Soarin have been swimming together, alone each morning at ten. That Pegasus clearly attacked him at the pool but did such a poor job at it, that the victim was able to run away. He then chased him to this room and beat him to death.”

“That’s a load of crap!” Soarin shouted.

“Your entire accusation is based on little more than assumptions,” Fleur pointed out. “If you expect to be taken seriously, you need to present a little more proof.”

“Actually I don’t,” Blueblood said smugly. “We need simply ask everypony here what they were doing in the last few hours. I guarantee he will be the only one who was anywhere near the victim in the last two hours. Why don’t I start, I was in the dining room, which can be confirmed by the lovely pony who decided to take it upon herself to bother me the entire time.”

Fleur groaned. “I suppose, I can confirm that Blueblood and I were in the dining room for the last few hours.”

“You spoke to him for a few hours?” Lightning asked in disbelief.

“No actually,” Fleur admitted, “almost all of the time was spent in icy silence.”

“Well Trixie was in the library at the time,” Trixie chipped in, “she can recite word for word what she read if that would help support her claim.”

“Pinkie and I were out walking,” Vinyl explained, “we were together right up until shortly before the body was discovered.”

“I was doing cardio in my room as usual,” Lightning said with a shrug, “I guess I can’t really prove that, I only met up with Cloudchaser after I was done.”

“Well me and Coco were taking inventory of the kitchen like we’d agreed,” Braeburn added looking over to the remaining ponies in the room.

“I was in the labs,” Redheart explained, “I didn’t have anything to do so I was just taking stock of what all we’ve got in case we needed to treat injuries.”

“And I was with Glasses here,” Cloudchaser finished, gesturing to Gizmo, “I was teaching him how to shoot darts in the game room on the other side of this floor.”

“So that’s everypony accounted for,” Blueblood began sounding satisfied, turning once more to Soarin, “everypony except you.”

“I…” Soarin began in a weak tone before finishing lamely, “I was asleep.”

“Asleep,” Blueblood repeated, a winning smirk appearing on his face.

“I’m serious!” Soarin exclaimed, looking around the gathered ponies, desperation in his eyes. “I got to the pool before Trenderhoof and… I must have dozed off because the next thing I woke up in the changing rooms and the Mastermind was shouting down the halls about a body.”

“What did I tell you all,” Blueblood announced, triumphant.

“Please, you guys have gotta believe me!” Soarin insisted desperately.

“You have to admit,” Braeburn began hesitantly, not meeting Soarin’s eye. “It does sound pretty unbelievable.”

“But it’s the truth!” The room was filled with silence for the longest time, until at last Pinkie spoke up.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, causing everypony to look at her in surprise. “It’s like Fleur said, at the moment this is just assumptions, we need to investigate properly instead of pointing hooves at each other. Don’t forget all our lives are on the line here, we can’t afford to get this wrong.”

“Yeah Pinkie’s right,” Vinyl exclaimed, sounding pumped.

“Indeed, we’ve wasted enough time already,” Trixie agreed. “For starters Redheart will need to examine the body, we’ll also need to examine this room and the pool for additional clues. If you aren’t going to help in the investigation then stay out of our way.”

There was a brief period of mumbling and shuffling, until only Pinkie, Vinyl, Fleur, Trixie, Blueblood and Redheart remained in the room.

“I’ll get out of your manes,” Soarin said miserably making to stand up, only to have his hooves tremble and give out beneath him. “Or I’ll just lie here, whatever.”

“Soarin, you’re in a terrible state,” Redheart said examining him where he lay. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since I woke up,” he replied, earning a sceptical glare from Blueblood.

“Have you eaten or drank anything strange lately?” Redheart continued, not questioning his alibi.

“I don’t think so, just what I usually have,” he informed her.

“It’s alright bro,” Vinyl assured him, “we’ll just investigate around you. Red, you can watch over him while you’re here examining the body.”

“I can,” Redheart responded, “you can all go investigate, I’ll have an assessment on the body as quickly as possible for you.”

Thanking her, the group left the parlour into the hallway where Pinkie had encountered the girls trying to enter the room.

“You really believe he’s faking that?” Pinkie asked Blueblood sternly.

“Just you wait,” he replied snidely, “You’ll see I’m right.”

“So where do we begin?” Vinyl asked.

“From what you have told Trixie, this was a closed room murder,” Trixie began. “The door was completely blocked from the inside?”

“That’s right,” Fleur confirmed, “a sofa had been moved in front of the door.”

“Well we need to figure out how the killer got into the room,” Trixie continued, “We can take care of that. Pinkie, why don’t you and Vinyl follow this trail and see if it really does lead to the pool. Either way, see what you can find.”

“Sure, we can do that,” Vinyl said with a nod before her and Pinkie turned away and began following the trail. Just before they turned around the corner, Pinkie overheard Blueblood say one last thing.

“I look forward to seeing the looks on your faces when I’m proven right.”

“Princey,” Trixie replied in a neutral tone, “shut up before Trixie castrates you.”

Pinkie grinned upon hearing that.

Day 7, 12:27

As the pair walked they discovered two things about the trail. One, it was clearly made by wet hooves. Two, it did in fact lead back to the swimming pool, although they had never really doubted that.

“It feels different,” Pinkie said, breaking the silence as they circled the pool. “When the victim was Twilight I was devastated, she was my best friend after all. But now it’s Trenderhoof and… I don’t really know how to feel. I mean he was a good guy and all, but I barely knew him. I feel like I should be sad but… I’m just not. Does that make me a bad pony?”

“Of course not,” Vinyl assured her, “you can’t be expected to scream and cry your eyes out for everypony, that would just be crazy. We might not be distraught, but we’ll still mourn him, and we’ll still find his killer.”

“Do you believe Blueblood’s right?” Pinkie asked. “That Soarin did it?”

“Well I’m not saying Blueblood is right… like ever,” Vinyl answered making Pinkie smirk. “But Soarin’s not lookin’ too good right now; you have to admit his alibi is kind of… crap.”

“It does sound ridiculous,” Pinkie admitted, “but I think there’s more to it.”

“Well whatever it is, we’ll get to the bottom of it.” Pinkie split off from Vinyl and approached the pool. She stood at the side closest to the door, the trail led right here. She was basically standing in a large puddle.

How does this much water get outside the pool? There must have been a lot of thrashing about while Trenderhoof climbed out of the pool. Maybe the murderer was in the pool with him.

Was it just the light or did the water around her hooves look slightly… discoloured?

Water doesn’t have a colour dummy; if it has any colour at all it’s probably discoloured.

Crouching down she peered closer at the water. Against the white tiles it looked almost… pink?

Could it be blood? I can’t see any in the rest of the pool, although if there was any it probably got diluted.

“You got anything?” Vinyl asked over her shoulder.

“I think so,” Pinkie replied unsure, “The water seems to be tinted pink, I’m thinking maybe it’s blood.”

“So Trenderhoof was attacked and injured here,” Vinyl surmised, “then he tried to run away?”

“What kind of attack would leave so little blood?” Pinkie questioned, “We’ll need to see if he had any other injuries on him when we get back.”

Standing up Pinkie walked away from the edge of the pool, making for a slightly ajar door with the sign reading ‘changing room’. Opening it up, she flicked on the lights and wondered in. The room was completely bare apart from the usual fixtures.

Nothing to suggest Soarin was or wasn’t in here sleeping.

Disappointed she turned to turn off the light again and leave, but as she did something caught her eye. Looking back over at one of the hardwood benches, she noticed a clear bottle of water. Walking over to it she picked up and examined it. It looked to be about two thirds full. Staring at it from all angles, as well as unscrewing the cap and looking down into it, Pinkie concluded it was just a regular bottle of water.

It’s still cold; it can’t have been here for too long. That doesn’t exactly prove anything, but it suggests somepony was definitely in here.

Turning off the lights she left to find Vinyl waiting for her outside.

“Did you find anything?” she asked, Pinkie held up the bottle of water, giving a little shrug to indicate it wasn’t much. “Well I took a dander down the hall to the door outside, it was lying wide open.”

“So somepony came into the pool from the outside, or left here to go outside,” Pinkie concluded as the pair began walking that way. “So what could that mean?”

“Maybe the killer left that way,” Vinyl suggested.

“But they definitely followed Trenderhoof to the parlour,” Pinkie pointed out, “why come back this way at all?”

“I don’t know, maybe we’ll find something outside,” Vinyl said disgruntled, “I hope the others are having better luck than us.”

Day 7, 12:45

Trixie rubbed the curtain with her hoof. It was still damp, soaking even. The window was directly opposite the door to the parlour, just one of the many narrow, floor to ceiling windows that lined the hall. Like all others this one had a posh set of red velvet drapes hanging on either side, unlike all others Trixie noticed one of the curtains on this particular window was heavily creased. Upon further investigation she found it wet to the touch, she quickly drew her conclusions from there.

“You can quit your bickering,” she said, silencing Fleur and Blueblood who were standing next to the door having a heated debate as to how the killer managed to infiltrate the room. “This curtain is wet.”

“What an amazing observation,” Blueblood replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I believe that’s this case closed.”

“And what do you believe that indicates?” Fleur asked, trying her best to ignore Blueblood.

“So far we’ve been trying to deduce how the killer entered the room from this point, based on the assumption that they didn’t go anywhere else due to the fact the trail ends at this spot,” Trixie explained. “However if they dried themselves off here, they could have left to find another entrance to the room without leaving a trail.”

“Excellent work Trixie,” Fleur complimented, “I’m going to see about the rooms above this one, why don’t you look into the adjoining rooms?”

“Fair enough,” Trixie replied indifferently, making her way down the corridor towards the next door.

“What about me?” Blueblood asked Fleur surprised, “You aren’t going to give me some benign task?”

“I’d like to think you’re old enough to find something to do on your own,” Fleur replied with a smirk as she carried down the opposite end of the corridor. Leaving Blueblood to fume away on his own.

Day 7, 12:56

Pinkie was about to admit defeat and head back to find the others. In all their time spent investigating all they’d found was what might be blood in a puddle and a half empty bottle of water. They were no closer to either condemning Soarin or clearing his name, and so far this walk outside had proved entirely fruitless. But then they hadn’t known what to look for to begin with, on the off chance something important had been out here they’d probably have missed it. Pinkie was just about ready to call it quits when Vinyl let out a loud yelp.

Spinning around Pinkie saw Vinyl hoping up and down, clutching her right forehoof, swearing in between sharp in takes of breath.

“What’s wrong Vinyl?” Pinkie asked panicking.

“Stupid… broken glass!” Vinyl exclaimed, finally standing still and holding her hoof out for Pinkie to see. Pinkie flinched upon seeing the large triangular shard deeply embedded in Vinyl hoof, which was gently oozing blood.

“Hold still, I’ll take it out,” Pinkie offered, but Vinyl shook her head.

“Nah, I got it,” she said, then grimacing she lit her horn up and wrenched the shard out as quickly as possible, eliciting another wave of swears.

“We should go see Nurse Redheart,” Pinkie said as Vinyl gripped her now bleeding profusely hoof in a telekinetic hold to keep pressure on it.

“Sure just…” Vinyl began before drifting off, looking down at the gravel pathway before turning her attention up. Pinkie followed her gaze and saw what she was looking at, a window on the second floor had had its glass smashed out, the pieces of which were now piled to the side of the path, not counting the overlooked piece that had found its way into Vinyl’s hoof. “Is that… one of the bedrooms?”

“Maybe somepony got too warm during the night, I know I certainly did before I discovered the air conditioning,” Pinkie replied.

“Air conditioning!” Vinyl exclaimed, “Our rooms have air conditioning?! I mean… that seems a little extreme, putting your window out like that.”

It could have been an accident; they might not even know it’s broken. But then how did the glass all end up in that pile over there? No they must know it’s broken, but then why has nopony mentioned anything about it?

“Hey Vinyl,” Pinkie began thoughtfully; “do you think you’d be able to levitate me up to that window?”

“Seriously?” Vinyl asked, “I’m kind of putting a lot of pressure on this right now.” Pinkie frowned at that, nodding understandingly. “But, if you think it’s really important then I guess I could give it a shot.”

“Thanks Vinyl,” Pinkie managed to say before she was rocketed into the air. Pinkie felt herself hurtling skywards only to be yanked back down again before final being frozen in place.

“Sorry!” Vinyl shouted up from the ground, “I’ve never had to lift another pony before; I guess I put too much juice into it!”

Pinkie wanted to shout down ‘clearly’ but was worried if she opened her mouth, she’d lose her breakfast. Instead she just looked forward at the broken window in front of her; it did indeed lead through to one of the bedrooms.

Gesturing for Vinyl to bring her closer, Pinkie felt herself float towards the window sill, which she latched on to, before scuttling inside the room. It was just as generic as all the others, or what she assumed all the others looked like based on what she had seen from her own and Twilight’s rooms. There was absolutely nothing that distinguished it from another, besides the broken window. Looking around she checked through all the nooks and crannies, investigated the dresser and the bedside table, searched the bathroom and looked under the bed covers.

There wasn’t a single item to be found, let alone something interesting. Either the pony stayed here was notoriously neat, or they were trying very hard to clean up after themselves. Sighing she threw herself onto the bed, praying the owner of the room didn’t walk in at that point. Maybe all the rooms weren’t exactly the same, this bed certainly wasn’t as comfortable as her own… no just the pillow. Wait…

Sitting bolt upright, Pinkie spun around and grabbed hold of the pillow, feeling the outside of it. Sure enough she felt something hard inside. Pulling the pillow case off, she found two pillows, between which a book had been stuffed.

A Modern Medical Encyclopaedia? A little heavy for a bedtime read.

Turning the book to its side Pinkie noticed one of the pages was disturbed slightly. Opening it up she found the corner of the page had been dog-eared. Scanning the text she found it detailing different kinds of drugs, it seemed to be in alphabetical order and she was specifically looking at the K page. Turning over to the other side of the marked page Pinkie found something interesting. One of the passages in the book had been circled in pen.

Ketamine?

Pinkie read through the description and the list of effects, as she did a sense of understanding seemed to dawn on her. Quick as lightning, she sprung off the bed and hurried to the window, looking out she saw Vinyl still standing bellow, looking from side to side to make sure nopony was going to stumble upon them

“Vinyl!” Pinkie called, “get me down, quick!”

Vinyl obliged, her own curiosity rising at the urgency in Pinkie’s voice. Once Pinkie was down on the ground she immediately began walking back around the house to the front doors, leaving Vinyl to hobble after her.

“Are you going to fill me in?” she asked in a joking tone.

“I will,” Pinkie assured her, “but I need to check something in the lab before the trial starts. Can you go see the others and see what they’ve come up with?”

“I guess, but…” Vinyl didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Pinkie galloped off. “What’s this about?”

Day 7, 13:21

Fleur stepped into the shared wash room. Judging from her map it was directly above the parlour where Trenderhoof had died, the killer might have entered the sealed room through here. However after having spent a good twenty minutes scouring the room and casting various detection spells she was forced to accept that she was probably wasting her time. Taking one last look over the area she found herself peeking into the shower stalls. So far there was nothing out of the ordinary, but then she hadn’t expected anything to be. After all she had already looked in here, she was just double checking in case she overlooked something, like a single stall covered in black grime.

Okay, maybe she had been a bit rushed before resorting to magic to do what her eyes couldn’t. Stepping in she found the floor and wall tiles coated in some thin sludge, the whole cubicle was wet, suggesting it had been used recently, but if that was the case why would it be so dirty? And why did this picture look so familiar to Fleur?

Day 7: 13:24

Vinyl stepped into the parlour to find Redheart pacing back and forth, clearly waiting for one of them to return. Soarin was still sitting on the sofa, but he didn’t look quite as weak as he had when Vinyl left.

“Where did the others go?” Vinyl asked, announcing her presence.

“They all left to try and find where the killer entered the room from,” Redheart explained.

“Any luck with that body?” Vinyl asked walking over beside Redheart as the pair looked down at the soaked corpse.

“Not a lot that will come as a surprise,” Redheart began, “he was struck on the back of the head with the fire poker, I’d guess five times.”

“On the back,” Vinyl repeated, "so the killer snuck up from behind?”

“Maybe,” Redheart replied with a small shrug, “I wouldn’t know anything when it comes to that deduction stuff.”

“Did he have any other injuries?” Vinyl asked, “Anything at all, even something as small as a paper cut.”

“No,” Redheart began, “and I was very thorough, I checked all over but didn’t find a single injury beyond the blows to the skull. Why do you ask?”

“We found some blood at the pool,” Vinyl explained, “or at least we’re sure it’s blood, it was lying in water so it was pretty diluted.”

“Maybe the killer was injured,” Soarin suggested causing both the mares to turn to look at him. “And just so you know, I don’t have any cuts or anything like that on me.”

“I guess that’s a…” Redheart began before noticing Vinyl’s now swollen hoof. “Vinyl, what happened to your hoof?!”

“Broken glass,” Vinyl explained, “I can barely feel it now.”

“I’ll have to treat this before it becomes infected,” Redheart said examining Vinyl’s hoof. “I have some medical equipment in my room, come with me and I’ll get you patched up.”

“Why do I get the feeling you planned all this to get me alone on your room?” Vinyl suggested slyly.

“Because you’re delirious from blood loss,” Redheart deadpanned. “Now let’s go.”

“If I don’t make it back Soarin,” Vinyl shouted back as she was forcibly dragged from the room. “I’m probably having the best time of my life, so don’t try to rescue me!”

Day 7, 13:29

Pinkie trotted into the lab, allowing the door to swing shut behind her. As she wondered in, she heard a faint squeal, but looking around she saw nothing, nothing besides a scarlet hair pin poking up over one of the counters.

“Hey there Coco,” Pinkie greeted knowingly. Coco stood up nervously, averting her eyes from Pinkie. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I was… just looking for medicine for Soarin,” she replied in high pitched whisper making Pinkie’s ears ring. “I’m not getting in the way of your investigation am I?”

“Not at all,” Pinkie assured her, “in fact, you might be able to help me.”

“Really?” Coco asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a drug called Ketamine,” Pinkie explained, “could you help me find where it’s kept?”

“Um, sure,” Coco replied unsure. “I think drugs are stored over here.”

Pinkie followed Coco over to section of shelves she had indicated, indeed they were chalk full of drawers labelled with everything from Paracetomol to Corticosteroids. However a quick scan indicated they were in no obvious order, so Pinkie had resorted to running up and down the shelves as quickly as she could in the hopes she spotted what she was looking for.

Even Pinkie was surprised such a brash method could yield any results, but soon enough Pinkie came skidding to a halt in front of a drawer labelled ‘Ketamine’.

“Found it!” she called to Coco a few shelves over, who was taking a much more refined approach to searching.

As Coco trotted over, Pinkie pulled the drawer out. Inside rows of bottles were laid out, held in place by metallic frame. Roughly three slots were empty, and confirming Pinkie’s suspicions, one of the empty slots was completely devoid of the dust that had gathered in the others.

So somepony took a bottle from here recently. And I have a funny feeling the one who did is our culprit.

“Attention everypony!” the Mastermind called out, making Coco squeal in fright. “The trial will begin shortly, please make your way down to the entrance hall!”

“Well,” Pinkie began, stepping away from the shelf. “I think I’ve done all I can, hopefully the rest will have found enough that together we can figure this out. Are you coming Coco?”

Pinkie looked over her shoulder only to find the other pony had not followed her while she was monologuing , but rather, was examining the shelf intently.

“Coco?” Pinkie called out, this time getting her attention. Coco looked around surprised, keeping her forehooves noticeably out of sight.

“Oh, sure, I’m coming now,” Coco said hurrying past Pinkie, keeping her head low.

Whatever she’s hiding, I trust she’ll do the right thing, I won’t push her.

With that, Pinkie took a determined breath and followed after Coco to the second trial.

Author's Note

Isn't it nice of Blueblood to take such an interactive role in the investigation? Where would our protagonists be without his constant support?
I wasn't pleased with this chapter, I felt like my head wasn't in the game at all while writing it.
Regardless, you now have all your evidence before the reveal is made in the next part. Anyone who correctly guesses the culprit or some aspect of the murder will receive a shoutout in the next part's author notes... Such an alluring prize I know.
Finally I changed Fleur's game tag from model to Noble, same as Blueblood. This is to fit in better with her backstory.

C2: Truth Will Out

Day 7, 13:40

Pinkie and Coco trotted down the stair case in the entrance hall, joining the group of ponies already gathered at the bottom.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Vinyl asked, hobbling over, Pinkie noticed the bandage around her right forehoof.

“I did,” Pinkie replied briefly.

“Are you going to fill me in?” Vinyl asked, sounding almost annoyed.

“Of course,” Pinkie assured her, “When everypony else is moving into the courtroom we’ll lag behind and we can fill each other in.”

No sooner had the words left Pinkie’s mouth than the familiar rumbling sound drew their attention to the sight of the staircase collapsing into the ground, paving the way to the courtroom.

“About time,” Blueblood grumbled, leading the way down the stairs. “Now we can condemn that Pegasus and get on with our pointless day to day routine.”

As the rest followed him, muttering various insults behind his back, Pinkie stayed true to her word and drifted behind with Vinyl. Once they were out of earshot of the others, Pinkie revealed the bottle of Ketamine she had taken from the shelf to use as a visual aid.

“If I’m right,” Pinkie began, “then Soarin is not the killer.”

Day 7, 13:46

Entering the courtroom, Pinkie found it exactly as it had been the first time they had entered. Only now along with Twilight’s screen, Doughnut Joe and Trenderhoof’s screens had their colour stripped from them, a bloody X marring their faces. Some ponies were already standing in their designated alcoves, clearly anxious to get the trial over with. As Vinyl moved off to her position, somepony approached Pinkie from the side. Seeing the flash of blue in her peripherals she turned to see Soarin standing beside her.

“Pinkie, you don’t really believe I killed him do you?” he asked, his eyes pleading. Pinkie hesitated before answering.

“I don’t know what to believe,” she lied.

“I could never kill another pony,” Soarin insisted, looking utterly hopeless.

“A week ago, I didn’t think anypony could take a life,” Pinkie replied, not meeting Soarin’s eye.

Soarin nodded sadly, and walked away from Pinkie towards his own alcove. As Pinkie did likewise, moving over beside Vinyl, the Mastermind’s screen flickered to life.

“I’m glad you have decided to avoid dragging this out with unnecessary questions,” the Mastermind spoke, “it means we can jump straight into the accusations.” Everypony was now in position, looking up at the Mastermind’s screen with utter contempt. “If we are all ready, then I call this trial to order.”

Trial 2: Trenderhoof

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Blueblood began smugly, “the culprit is obviously Soarin.”

“For the last time,” Soarin growled, looking much healthier but still leaning on his bench for support, “I didn’t kill anyone!”

I think he’s telling the truth, and I can prove it. But I’ll wait a moment and see how this plays out.

“For the record's sake,” Fleur began, although she sounded like she was already regretting what she was about to suggest. “Why don’t you walk us through what you think happened?”

“Gladly, if it will put this null argument to rest,” Blueblood replied, clearing his throat. “Soarin and Trenderhoof met up for their morning session of swimming as per usual; however while swimming, Soarin assaulted Trenderhoof, who managed to escape. He chased the victim down the hall to the parlour where he killed him by striking him a blow to the head with the fire poker.”

“That’s already all wrong!” Pinkie interrupted. Blueblood rolled his eyes at this.

“Very well, entertain us by attempting to show us what I said wrong,” he invited confidently.

“Gladly,” Pinkie replied, mocking Blueblood by using his own choice of words. “Your entire tale, fanciful as it may be, does not account for how the room was sealed from the inside.”

“Actually, I’ve thought of a logical reason for that,” Blueblood argued.

“Oh, this should be fun,” Vinyl retorted, Blueblood shot her a glare before continuing.

“Soarin chased him into the room and attacked him,” Blueblood repeated, “he then left the nearly dead Trenderhoof who used his telekinesis to block the door in fear of him returning.”

“Impossible,” Redheart argued.

“How is that impossible?!” Blueblood snapped.

“As a unicorn, you should know full well,” she retorted, “a strike to the skull like that would have disabled Trenderhoof’s magic.” Blueblood grimaced, clearly having overlooked this fact. “That aside, Trenderhoof had been struck a number of times… he was easily dead by the time the last blow was dealt.”

“Well,” Braeburn said, “I guess that’s that theory out the window.”

“Well we examined that door for ages,” Blueblood fumed, “there was no way he could have gotten through it after it had been sealed from the inside!”

“You keep assuming it’s Soarin,” Lightning Dust pointed out, “it could just have easily been a unicorn who could have teleported in. And I think we all know a unicorn who has been very eager to draw attention away from himself.”

“Trixie hates to poke a hole in any theory that suggests Blueblood is the guilty one,” Trixie interrupted, “but if you recall, we can’t teleport here, you saw what happened to… Twilight when she tried it on the first day.”

“I still think it’s Blueblood,” Cloudchaser insisted, “Lightning’s right, he’s been very insistent that it’s Soarin, he must be drawing attention away from himself.”

“No, I believe he’s just stupid,” Fleur argued, ignoring Blueblood’s outraged exclamation. “He couldn’t have been responsible as I was with him at the time the murder must have occurred.”

“So if teleportation is out,” Coco began, “how did the culprit get in?”

“Well Trixie pointed out something earlier,” Fleur indicated, Trixie nodded, taking over what Fleur had begun.

“Trixie discovered the curtains outside the crime scene were very wet,” Trixie informed the ponies gathered. “She proposes, the murderer dried themselves off to avoid leaving any further trail, and left to infiltrate the room from somewhere else.”

“What’s to say the killer was ever wet?” Braeburn asked, “That trail could have been made by Trend alone.”

“Well, there was a lot of water splashed around the edge of the pool,” Pinkie pointed out, “I reckon it could only have been made if two ponies were struggling in the pool itself, specifically while trying to get out of the pool.”

“Oh, sorry, just ignore me,” Braeburn said self-consciously.

“It’s fine Braeburn,” Fleur assured him, “these are the kind of questions we need to be asking.”

“Sho where did the killer enter from if not the door?” Gizmo asked trying to steer the conversation back.

“Trixie could not find any way into the parlour via the adjoining rooms,” Trixie admitted before looking to Fleur. “Did you have any better luck upstairs?”

“Well I couldn’t find a method of entry to the parlour below,” Fleur began, “but I did notice something interesting in the wash room. One of the shower cubicles was covered in black grime.”

Wait, did she just say…

“Fleur, did you say the shower cubicle was covered in ‘black grime’?” Pinkie asked curiously.

“Yes, why? Does that mean something to you?” she asked, confused.

“It does, and it should mean something to you too,” Fleur just stared back at Pinkie blankly. “On our second day here you and I explored the house for secrets we might have missed during our initial search. After what we found I had to get cleaned up, and when I did I left the shower covered in that same black filth.”

“Of course!” Fleur exclaimed, as the truth dawned on her.

“Care to fill us in?” Lightning requested looking confused by Pinkie’s revelation.

“Pinkie had to get washed because she was covered in soot,” Fleur explained, “which she got from climbing through…”

“The secret tunnels connecting the fireplaces!” Pinkie finished.

“This explains so much,” Fleur said excited, “Trenderhoof sealed himself inside the parlour, and the killer dried themselves off and went to one of the other sitting rooms, they then travelled through the chimney to sneak into the parlour where Trenderhoof was waiting.”

“And that explains why all the blows were to the back of his head,” Vinyl added, “Trenderhoof was probably watching the door, figuring the killer would try to come in through there. So when the killer came out the fireplace, he hadn’t seen them. The culprit then took the fire poker as they came out before sneaking up behind Trenderhoof and attacking him.”

“Well that’s all well and good,” Blueblood interrupted, “but none of that proves who the killer was… or that Soarin was not the killer.”

Alright, I think it’s time to play my ace in the hole.

“You’re right, that doesn’t prove his innocence,” Pinkie began, before slamming the medical encyclopaedia, the bottle of water and the bottle of Ketamine onto the bench in front of her for everypony to see. “But these do.”

“Uh, what ish all that?” Gizmo asked, scratching his head, trying to figure it out.

“And how does any of that prove he isn’t undeniably guilty?” Blueblood demanded.

“Allow me to explain,” Pinkie began, noticing the spark of hope in Soarin’s eyes. “Soarin claims that he fell asleep in the changing room beside the pool. Sorry, what he actually said was ‘he must have dozed off’. The simple fact is he doesn’t remember, because that’s one of the effects of Ketamine.”

“Ketamine?” Redheart repeated, surprised.

“What the heck is Ketamine?” Braeburn asked cocking his head.

“It’s a…” Redheart began hesitantly, “well, it’s a date rape drug.”

“Drug?!” Soarin exclaimed, “somepony drugged me!”

“Indeed,” Pinkie confirmed, “and I probably wouldn’t have figured it out, but for the other symptoms associated with ketamine. Impaired motor function, problems breathing, convulsions, vomiting, numbness and loss of coordination. Can anyone deny Soarin has been displaying each of those symptoms since he arrived on the crime scene?”

“How do you know all those symptoms?” Redheart asked curiously, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“While walking outside, Vinyl and I came across some broken glass;” Pinkie began to explain, “one of the second floor windows had been smashed out.”

“Second floor,” Cloudchaser repeated, “so it was somepony’s bedroom?”

“It could have been the wash room,” Lightning pointed out.

“Actually Cloudchaser is right,” Pinkie cut in, “Vinyl levitated me up to the window and I went inside, it was definitely one of the bedrooms.”

“Who’s was it?” Soarin asked.

“I don’t know… yet,” Pinkie admitted, “there was nothing inside that could identify it. The only thing I found was this medical encyclopaedia hidden in the pillow.” Pinkie held up the book for them all to see. “One page was marked out specifically, and if I flip to that page, you can all see the passage detailing the effects of Ketamine has been circled.”

“I’m sure this all coincidence,” Blueblood insisted, “that could very well have been Soarin’s room and he planted that book there to throw us off the trail and to support his act of ‘falling asleep’.”

“Well actually,” Pinkie began, “just to be on the safe side, I went to the lab and searched for where they keep the Ketamine. The drawer they are stored in is missing a few bottles, however all but one empty slots were covered in dust. I removed one bottle just for comparison, and the slots were identically bare of dust and dirt, so one bottle was definitely taken from the lab recently.”

“Sho how did Shoarin end up shpiked with it?” Gizmo asked.

“It was in his water bottle,” Pinkie said, picking up both bottles in either hoof to show everypony. “Ketamine is colourless and odourless, so Soarin wouldn’t have noticed anything off until he took a drink, but because it’s so fast acting he wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Chances are he passed out beside the pool itself and the killer dragged him into the changing room so Trenderhoof wouldn’t see him.”

“You mean, if he was in the changing room at all,” Braeburn corrected.

“Well I found this water bottle in there,” Pinkie pointed out, “it was still cold at the time so it couldn’t have been in there much more than a few hours.”

“This all seems solid,” Trixie said nodding, only to be interrupted by Blueblood scoffing.

“I still believe he took that bottle from the lab himself,” Blueblood said, causing several ponies to groan in frustration, “This is all part of his plan to throw us off the scent.”

“Look buddy,” Soarin snapped, looking sick to death of Blueblood’s accusations. “Maybe I should be flattered you think I’m some criminal genius, but I’ll be honest, I’m not that smart! I dropped out of school for Celestia’s sake! Flying is all I’m good at! Even if I wanted to kill one of you, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to go about it. Not that I would, the Wonderbolts are more than just a team of performers and athletes, we’re also one of Equestria’s most elite tactical units, our creed is the protection of all Celestia’s citizens. I joined them because I believe in that creed, so you can accuse me all you want but the simple truth is I would rather die than kill another pony!”

The room was silent, everypony staring at Soarin with a mixture of shock and awe at his sudden outburst. Everypony except Blueblood.

“Inspiring speeches may deceive these lesser ponies,” he said turning his nose up at Soarin, “but unless you actually show me proof that somepony else was the culprit, I will not be swayed.”

That elicited an outburst of shouting from all around the room, almost all directed at Blueblood. Pinkie just tried to block out the noise, desperately trying to think.

It’s not Soarin, I’m sure of that…

“Excuse me…” Coco said quietly, her timid voice drowned out by all the ponies arguing.

But I still can’t figure out who the real culprit is…

“Please, I think I might know…” Coco tried again over the shouting.

Vinyl said Trenderhoof had no other injuries, so that blood had to have come from the culprit…

“Seriously now, I would appreciate it if you would all listen…” Coco said, her voice raising now.

But we can’t conduct full body examinations on everypony here, and even if we could Vinyl’s injury could implicate her. There has to be a way to narrow it down…

“EVERYPONY SHUT THE BUCK UP!” Coco screamed over the noise, silencing everyone instantly and pulling Pinkie out of her own thoughts. “I am trying to present some evidence if you would all shut up and listen to me for five seconds!”

An uncomfortable silence descended over the courtroom, even Blueblood looked shocked at the tiny pony’s outburst and dared not speak up. At last it was Trixie who found the confidence to.

“Our apologies,” she said, sounding serious, “would you like to tell us your opinion?”

“Thank you,” Coco said with a frustrated breath. “I was just trying to say, that while in the lab with Pinkie, I noticed something on the shelf where the Ketamine was stored.”

Everypony remained silence as Coco held out her hoof, as if to show them something.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this kid,” Vinyl began awkwardly, “But you aren’t holding anything.”

“Look closer,” Coco said rolling her eyes. Everypony obeyed, stretching forward as far as the binding runes at their hooves would allow. Straining her eyes, Pinkie could just about make out a few golden strands resting on Coco’s hoof.

“Are those…” Cloudchaser began, receiving a nod from Coco.

“These strands of hair were caught on a loose nail just above the drawer where the Ketamine was kept,” she explained. “I figure the pony who took the bottle got their hair caught.”

That hair… there’s only one pony here with hair that shade of yellow…

“I see,” Pinkie said quietly, leaning back. Everypony looked over to her, the expression on her face giving away the fact she’d reached some conclusion.

“What are you thinking Pinkie?” Fleur asked slowly.

“There’s only one pony in this room in this room who has a mane of that colour,” Pinkie began, “they’re the same pony who lied in the parlour about their alibi, the same pony who killed Trenderhoof…

“Lightning Dust!”

“H..hey!” Lightning stammered. “What the hay Pinkie?! I didn’t do it, how could you even say that?!”

“There are only two ponies here with a blonde mane,” Pinkie began, “And between you and Blueblood, it doesn’t take a genius to tell which of you that hair came from.”

“So my hair was in the lab,” Lightning admitted, trying to brush it aside like it was no big deal. “But what did you mean when you said I lied about my alibi? I was doing cardio in my room like I have for the past few mornings; ask anyone that’s what I do. I never left my room until after I was done at which point I met up with Cloudchaser.”

“True, you didn’t leave your room… through the door,” Pinkie pointed out. “But as a Pegasus you would have no trouble flying outside once you broke your window.”

“Oh, so you’re assuming that room is mine,” Lightning scoffed, “even if it was, then what? I just ran to the pool and attacked Trenderhoof?”

“No,” Pinkie started slowly, “first you had to deal with Soarin, but you had already obtained the necessary tools to do that. So once you arrived at the pool through the door to the grounds and found him unconscious, you dragged him into the changing room before Trenderhoof arrived.”

“Okay, now I know you’re taking the piss!” Lightning exclaimed with a bark of laughter, “If any of that was true, I would have just killed Soarin while he was out of it, no offence dude. I mean, why the heck would I attack Trenderhoof if Soarin was completely defenceless.”

“Because then you wouldn’t have your perfect scapegoat,” Pinkie stated, “leaving Soarin alive gave you the perfect patsy, especially since him being drugged meant that his alibi sounded totally unbelievable later, especially next to yours which you had spent days reinforcing in everypony’s minds so that we wouldn’t question it when you brought it up.”

“I didn’t kill anyone and you’re an idiot for even suggesting it!” Lightning shouted back. “Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

“Uh, is she having a stroke or something?” Vinyl asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I was never anywhere near that pool and you can’t prove otherwise!” Lightning exclaimed, slamming her hoof down on the bench, her face contorted with rage and…

Pain? That’s it!

“Actually,” Pinkie responded calmly, “I can.”

Lightning backed up slightly, her eye twitching, now struggling to hide her panic.

“You see, at the pool we found a lot of water splashed up over the edge,” Pinkie explained, “but the water was an odd shade of pink, you know why? Because blood had been mixed in it.”

“So?” Lightning spat back, “it was probably Trenderhoofs.”

“It couldn’t have been,” Redheart chipped in. “He didn’t have a single wound on him beyond the one that killed him.”

“So the blood must have come from the murderer,” Vinyl finished.

“Well there you have it,” Lightning said triumphantly. “Look all you want, you won’t find a cut on me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Pinkie agreed, getting a few surprised looks from the other ponies in the room. “Because that blood didn’t come from a cut… it came from your nose.”

Lightning’s eye twitched again, more noticeably this time, panic and fear clear on her face.

“You tried to drown Trenderhoof I assume,” Pinkie continued. “But he reacted the same way one would if they were attacked by a shark… he kicked you in the nose, breaking it before fleeing.”

“How… how could you possibly…” Lightning tried to say, but her voice was now hoarse and barely audible.

“When we opened the door to the parlour,” Pinkie explained, “we smelt the body. You had a particularly extreme reaction when you sniffed. At first I assumed it was out of revulsion, which surprised me because the smell wasn’t that bad at that stage, now I know, it was due to the pain in your muzzle. You just had the same pained reaction when you twisted your face at me.”

“I…” Lightning began, her voice trailing off.

“Once you washed the blood away,” Pinkie finished, “nopony would have known as any bruising would have been hidden by your coat.”

Everypony stared at Lightning, whose mouth opened and closed several more times, before at last her body sagged and she hung her head.

“I did it.”

“Lightning...” Cloudchaser began, shaking her head as if trying to deny it.

“Why?” Braeburn whispered, a confused look plastered over his face.

“I guess… I never did believe in that creed,” she said after a long pause, looking up at Soarin. “But then that’s why I got kicked out of the academy, I only ever looked out for myself, even when it meant sacrificing ponies I’d come to like.” She briefly glanced at Braeburn before looking away in shame once more. “Go ahead and vote,” Lightning said, sounding utterly defeated. “Whatever that psycho’s got in store… I deserve it.”

“Thanks for the perfect transition Dusty,” the Mastermind said, sounding gleeful at the prospect of another impending execution. “Any last words?”

“Yeah actually,” Lightning replied, sounding slightly more determined. She stood up straight, looking Pinkie dead in the eye. “You’re pretty clever Pinkie; I know if anypony can beat this creep and get everypony out of here, it’s you.”

Pinkie nodded stoically.

She’s not a bad pony… just desperate… just like the rest of us.

“How touching,” the Mastermind said in a mock choked up voice, adding a little sniff for dramatic effect, all before switching right back to sadistically excited. “Oh well, can’t mourn forever. Let’s just move straight on to the main event, everypony place your votes!”

There was less hesitation this time around, most ponies turning their dials and bringing Lightning’s face up on the screen behind them without a second thought. Some took a few more seconds, like Pinkie who took one last breath before reluctantly turning her dial. Soon every screen besides the deceased and the Mastermind’s displayed Lightning’s face, even the one directly behind Lightning. No sooner had all the votes been cast than the screens reverted to black, the ‘GUILTY’ screen appearing directly opposite Pinkie, beginning its initial slow cycle around the room, gathering speed as it went until the letters were no more than a blur.

In the end it came as a surprise to nopony when the letters finally slowed before finally coming to a stop right behind Lightning Dust, instigating the same celebratory noises that accompanied Doughnut Joe’s conviction.

“Was there ever any doubt?” the Mastermind said. “Lightning Dust murdered Trenderhoof, and now it is time for her… to face her shocking fate!”

Pinkie looked away as the floor disappeared beneath Lightning’s hooves and she was dropped into oblivion. But Pinkie couldn’t escape the noises of all the screens coming to life. Obeying a sick sense of curiosity, Pinkie allowed herself to look up at the screen opposite her.

Lightning Dust had clearly tried to slow her descent using her wings, but whether it was due to the shock of the fall or the acceptance of her fate, she hadn’t done a very good job of it, and now lay upon a white floor, her limbs twisted out beneath her. As she shifted around in obvious agony, Pinkie saw that the surface she was lying on was some kind of white powder; it looked almost like very pale sand.

They all stared in confusion at the screen, wondering what sick punishment the Mastermind had devised, when the screens began zooming out until something was visible over Lightning’s head. It was a thick sheet, of rumbling black clouds.

A beep signalled Pinkie to look down at her hoof computer which was now displaying a screen.

Vetrification: the process in nature where glass structures known as Fulgurite are formed when lightning strikes quartz sand, or silica.

Pinkie took all this in, the gears in her mind working double time trying to figure out what it meant, only to have her attention dragged back to the screen when a clap of thunder sounded out followed by screams.

Lightning Dust lay writhing in the silica, screaming in agony, but the most horrifying part was her right forehoof, the leg of which was blackened and charred, but the hoof was encased in some bizarre branching root like structure in varying degrees of transparency and shades of dark colours.

Some of the ponies in the room gasped, some like Cloudchaser, looking away from the screens altogether. But Pinkie found she couldn’t tear her gaze away, it was as if her eyes were glued to the screen in front of her. However Lightning didn’t lie there for much longer, as all at once bolt after bolt of lightning came careening down, striking her body and the sand all around her, which shot up all over her, petrifying in a split second.

Before long the screams ceased, and shortly after that the thunder also silenced. Lightning’s body was completely obscured smoke and sand swirling around, disturbed by the storm. Then the screens all switched off, and the floor in the centre of the room opened up once more.

Pinkie recoiled, terrified of what was going to ascend this time. The platform rose up, but there was no platter of disturbing delectables this time, instead what looked like a sculpture dominated the centre of the room.

The feature looked crystalline, countless shards branching off in all directions. Some sections were a cloudy green or black colour, but most of it was clear as a window pane, and inside for all to see, was the charred corpse of Lightning Dust, her body twisted in agony, her mouth stretched wide in a permanent scream.

“I don’t think the looks on your faces will ever get old,” the Mastermind said before breaking out into mad laughter again. Pinkie turned her eyes away from the glass prison.

If anyone can beat this creep… it’s not me… We’ll do it together.

Author's Note

Congratulations to ClickClackTheBrony for correctly guessing the culprit as well as pretty much the entire murder method (even pointing out a few clever points that I hadn't thought of) and Chloewhatwatt for correctly guessing the culprit. Some other readers were correct in their comments about Soarin being drugged but I would only have given a shoutout for that alone if nobody had got the identity of the killer.
Thanks to everyone who read and/or participated, I hope the next chapter will keep you all intrigued.

C3: On The Trail We Blaze

Pinkie Pie walked through Ponyville, something was definitely off, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. Maybe it was the fact that the ground, sky and buildings were all grey and pixilated… No they had always been like that. So what was different about today?

“Good morning Pinkie Pie,” Twilight Sparkle said, walking past Pinkie, her nose buried in a book. “Lovely day we’re having.”

“Sure are,” Pinkie agreed happily before remembering her confusion. “But Twilight, does something seem different today?”

“Different?” Twilight repeated, “I’m not sure what you mean Pinkie. Now come on, we don’t want to be late for the picnic.”

The picnic! Of course, Pinkie had almost forgotten as she obsessed over some imagined difference. Not wanting to waste any more time she began galloping out of town towards the outskirt, where she knew her other friends were waiting for them. As she ran, Twilight rushed past her, her wings outstretched. Pinkie picked up the pace, not wanting to be left behind. As they ran, Ponyville dissolved around them to be replaced by a grey hill with a single grey tree atop it, and there sat her friends.

“Good morning everypony,” Twilight greeted, sitting down on the blanket.

“Morning,” Pinkie chipped in, plopping down beside Twilight.

“Ah Pinkie,” Trenderhoof said in his usual upper class façade. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you. I have a new line ready and I would love you to model some of my dresses for me.”

“Sure Trendy, I’d love to,” Pinkie answered happily.

“Care for an apple Pinkie,” Doughnut Joe asked, offering her a basket full of ripe grey apples. “Ah’ve just picked ‘em this mornin’.”

“Yes please,” Pinkie said, laughing at Doughnut Joe’s usual thick country accent before reaching in and taking out an apple.

“Oh Pinkie, you should have been here earlier,” Lightning Dust jumped in. “I was doin’ some flying tricks that would have blown your mind.”

“Aw, that’s sounds awesome,” Pinkie replied. “Will you do them again?”

“I think we should wait,” Twilight suggested. “We’re still waiting on one of our friends remember… Oh, there she is.”

Pinkie looked down the hill at her approaching friend, wrapped in an inferno of writhing flames. Bright orange piercing through the grey.

“Sorry I’m late,” Coco said, smiling despite the flames enveloping her. “It wasn’t the fastest way to go.”

Day 10, 08:15

Pinkie’s eyes snapped open, her whole body springing bolt upright.

“Coco!” she called out, the memories of the previous night flooding back. The message. The Fire. The body. Coco’s body!

Pinkie could smell the faint stench of smoke nearby. Turning her head slowly, dreading what she was about to see, she looked at what appeared to be a burning mound last night. It was now nothing more than a blackened, charred corpse. It was so small, but then Coco never was the biggest of ponies. Pinkie stumbled to her hooves, her breathing becoming rapid, and stumbled over to the body only to collapse down beside it.

“No… No…” she whispered, reaching out to the body with a trembling hoof.

Pinkie’s ears pricked up at the sound of fast approaching hooves on the gravel path. Looking over her shoulder she saw Trixie, Vinyl and Fleur running towards her. Pinkie stood as they began to get near.

“Pinkie, there you are,” Vinyl said as the trio slowed to a walk. “You didn’t show up to breakfast…

“Along with pretty much everypony else,” Trixie chipped in.

“And when we were walking by the main doors we saw the smoke and came to see what was…” Vinyl’s voice died in her mouth as they all got close enough to see what was behind Pinkie.

“Is that…” Trixie began, her eyes widening in shock.

“Oh no,” Fleur said, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Who is it Pinkie?”

“It’s Coco,” Pinkie answered miserably.

“Aw man,” Vinyl muttered, hanging her head.

“I suppose you came to investigate the smoke too,” Fleur said, walking up beside Pinkie and putting a hoof on her shoulder.

“No, I was here when it happened,” Pinkie said without thinking, Fleur’s hoof jumping away instantly. All three mares stared at Pinkie in stunned silence.

“You were here?” Vinyl asked, her sunglasses levitating up to reveal the surprise in her eyes.

“Then what happened?!” Trixie demanded, “Who did this?!”

“I… I don’t know,” Pinkie stammered, suddenly feeling very small under their gazes. “I woke up at like… four in the morning because a message was sent to my hoof computer saying ‘fire’. I looked out my window and saw the flames. So I ran out here, but as soon as I reached the body I was knocked out.”

“Dammit,” Vinyl said, kicking the ground. “It’s never easy.”

“What do you mean you got a message?” Fleur asked, her eyes narrowing for some reason Pinkie didn’t know.

“On my hoof computer,” Pinkie repeated holding out her hoof. “It just said ‘fire’, like it was warning me.”

Fleur glanced at the other two; Trixie was sharing her expression, while Vinyl looked unsure.

“Could you show us this message?” Fleur asked in a cool voice.

“I don’t know how, but why…” Pinkie began, before joining the pieces. “Wait, you think I did this?!”

“We didn’t say that,” Trixie assured her.

“But you do think that don’t you?!” Pinkie accused, backing up slightly.

They suspect me! After everything, they don’t trust me!

“It’s just a precaution,” Fleur tried to assure her, some warmth returning to her voice. “As soon as we see the message we can rule you out and start investigating.”

“But I don’t know how to show you it,” Pinkie repeated, panicking.

“Here, hold out your hoof,” Vinyl said, walking forward. “I know how to drag up old messages.”

Good, Vinyl will find the message and they’ll see I’m telling the truth.

Pinkie held out her hoof, smiling as her friend took it in her own and began fiddling with the computer on Pinkie’s hoof.

“Anything?” Trixie asked after a couple of silent minutes. Vinyl bit her lip.

“There’s nothing here,” she replied simply, backing away from Pinkie, not meeting her eye.

“What?!” Pinkie exclaimed.

But it was there! How could Vinyl not have found it?

“I… don’t know what to tell you,” Vinyl said, still looking at the ground. “But there aren’t any recent messages on that thing, especially none that mention a fire.”

“I see,” Fleur said, her voice becoming icy once more.

“But it’s the truth!” Pinkie insisted, nearly in tears. Then she looked beyond the three mares, and saw the rest of the ponies approaching them.

“It would seem the Mastermind alerted the rest,” Trixie announced, following Pinkie’s gaze.

“Vinyl…” Pinkie said, trying to get her friend to look at her. Instead it only succeeded at making Vinyl more interested in her hooves.

“What’s happened?” Cloudchaser asked as the rest arrived on the scene.

“The Mastermind said there was another body,” Redheart informed them. “If you’re all here, then that must mean…”

“I’m afraid so,” Fleur confirmed. “The victim is Coco Pommel.”

“What?!” Cloudchaser yelled, causing Soarin, Braeburn and Blueblood all to scream out in pain, clutching their skulls.

“Please, not so loud,” Braeburn begged miserably.

“Oh shut up!” Redheart snapped at him. “A pony has just died and all you three care about is your stupid hangovers!”

“Is that true?” Soarin asked, massaging his forehead. “Is Coco dead?”

“I’m afraid so,” Fleur stated, before directing her attention to Redheart. “But she didn’t just die. It happened very early this morning. Pinkie confirmed that for us.”

“What’sh that shupposhed to mean?” Gizmo asked, eyeing Pinkie curiously.

“Pinkie here claims to have been here when the murder took place,” Trixie replied. “She claims she received a message warning her of the fire, a message that has disappeared from her hoof computer.”

“I did!” Pinkie exclaimed, desperation making way for anger now. “I got the message, saw the fire, ran outside through the kitchen door and came straight here, but I got knocked out!”

“The kitchen door?” Redheart queried.

“Uh, yes,” Pinkie confirmed.

“The grounds door in the kitchen area is locked,” Redheart explained, “Cloudchaser, Gizmo and I tried it when we received the announcement.”

“Locked you say?” Trixie repeated. “And there’s only one key that can lock that door.”

“But…” Pinkie began, only to be cut off by Fleur.

“Do you have the master key on you right now?” she asked, all eyes turning to Pinkie.

The key had been in Pinkie’s saddle bags, and Pinkie had brought her saddle bags with her as she left her room.

“It should be in my saddle bag,” Pinkie admitted. “But the one who knocked me out probably took it!”

“Then empty your bags,” Gizmo stated, “simple.”

“Fine,” Pinkie said, trying to hide the fear in her voice. Pulling her saddle bags off her back she set them on the ground, before tipping its contents onto the ground.

From the bag spilled a number of random items that Pinkie had taken to carrying around with her. A Daring Do book for when she had free time, a few packets of crisps in case she got snacky and wasn’t near the kitchen, a scarf she got from Rarity on her last birthday, and…

“Hey!” Braeburn exclaimed, “Those matches.”

Indeed, lying beneath the scarf was the very box of matches Braeburn had found in the shed.

“I don’t know how they got in there!” Pinkie said honestly, but too quickly for anypony to believe her.

“Braeburn,” Fleur began, “weren’t you keeping a hold of these matches?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t find them this morning,” he explained, picking them up. “I thought I’d lost them.”

“And look,” Trixie pointed out, levitating up the little gold key.

This is bad! This is very bad!

“Please listen to me,” Pinkie begged, “I have no idea how those matches got in my bag.”

“This is looking very bad for you Pinkie,” Fleur stated.

“I know, but I’m telling the truth, doesn’t anypony believe me?” Pinkie looked around the faces. Fleur and Trixie were standing resolutely, Vinyl still refusing to meet her gaze. Redheart and Braeburn were looking unsure, but Gizmo looked fairly convinced.

“I believe her,” two voices said simultaneously. Everypony looked over at Soarin and Blueblood, who were also looking at each other.

“You do?” Fleur asked, before looking specifically to Blueblood. “You both do?”

“You’re right, it looks pretty bad for Pinkie,” Soarin answered, looking back at them all. “But it also looked pretty bad for me when Trenderhoof died. Pinkie didn’t judge me right off the bat; she gave me the chance I needed, so I’ll do the same for her.”

Redheart nodded approvingly and everypony looked to Blueblood, who just shrugged.

“She’s no killer, let’s be honest,” he said simply, “she wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

The others looked away, not that surprised by Blueblood’s response in the end, but in doing so they didn’t see the small smile he flashed Pinkie. Strained, but genuine.

Always there for you… Wouldn’t turn his back when things got hard…

“Soarin makes a valid point,” Fleur admitted, sounding slightly ashamed of herself. “We shouldn’t pass judgement until we have all the facts.”

“Which means we must begin investigating,” Trixie stated.

“Well we shouldn’t let her walk about on her own,” Gizmo insisted, thrusting a hoof at Pinkie.

“I’m not going to tamper with anything,” Pinkie replied, outraged at the notion.

“If it will make everypony feel better,” Redheart began, “Soarin, could you stay with her? You did vouch for her after all.”

“I can indeed,” Soarin said proudly.

“Alright then, we should get to work,” Fleur announced, “who knows when the Mastermind will choose to call the trial.”

Day 10, 09:00

“Thanks for sticking up for me back there,” Pinkie said to Soarin as the pair walked up the drive to the manor doors.

“It wasn’t fair of them to do that,” he replied sternly, “especially after the other day when they all said you were trustworthy enough to hold onto the master key.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said forlornly, before remembering something. “How are you doing by the way? About Coco I mean, I know you liked her.”

“Wha… How did you know that?” Soarin asked surprised.

“Last night while you guys were drinking,” Pinkie explained, “you got a little loose lipped.”

“Ah,” Soarin stated simply, sounding embarrassed. “Well I’m not okay about it, Coco was a really good pony, she didn’t deserve that. But don’t worry about me; it was just a little crush so I’m not heartbroken or anything.”

“How’s the head?” Pinkie asked suddenly, remembering their initial state before hearing about Coco.

“Still killing me,” Soarin admitted grinning, “But I can ignore it, we’ve got more important things to deal with right now. Speaking of which, you’re the expert detective, where should we start?”

“Well ordinarily the body would be a good starting point,” Pinkie began, “but the others have that covered. Let’s check out the two doors, I want to confirm they really are locked before Fleur and Trixie come by with the master key and unlock them again.”

“Alright, we’d better run then,” Soarin suggested. Pinkie nodded and entered into a trot, heading around the left of the manor house to the pool door.

Day 10, 09:24

“Looks like they beat us to the punch,” Soarin said disgruntled seeing the ponies standing around the kitchen door.

“I think Fleur held onto the key,” Pinkie pointed out, “we might not be too late.”

Running forward they reached the door where Vinyl, Braeburn and Cloudchaser were all standing outside of.

“It’s locked, don’t worry,” Cloudchaser said as she saw them coming, pulling the handle to demonstrate.

“That means both doors were definitely locked,” Soarin stated.

“So what does that indicate?” Braeburn asked. Pinkie sighed.

Have to stay objective about this.

“Well this door was defiantly open at the time the murder took place,” Pinkie explained, “only the master key can lock these doors, and since the main doors were closed at the time of the murder, and didn’t open until seven, that means either the killer locked both doors from the inside, before waiting until the main doors opened before delivering the key outside again, or they locked them from the outside and stayed outside until the main doors opened.”

“Or, just to cover all bases,” Cloudchaser said hesitantly, “they locked the two doors and never went inside.”

“Yes,” Pinkie replied bitterly, “I suppose that is equally plausible.”

“Gizmo, Redheart and I were at breakfast when the announcement was made,” Cloudchaser reminded them.

“After Redheart found us last night and gave us all a brow beating,” Soarin began, “We all crashed in Braeburn’s room. All three of us were there when the announcement was made.”

“And Fleur, Trixie and me were together as you know,” Vinyl stated neutrally.

“So the only one of us who could have been outside, and could have been guilty in that case,” Pinkie summarized, “was me.”

“Hey, we’ve only started investigating,” Soarin reminded them. “Well we can’t get inside through here, but instead of traipsing back to the main doors how about we check the shed?”

“What for?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Clues,” Soarin replied simply.

“Fine, I guess it’s a start,” Cloudchaser said uninterested, leading the way towards the shed.

The group walked in silence, Pinkie occasionally looking over at Vinyl only to see her pointedly looking the other way. Once outside the shed they found the doors closed, the chain lying discarded nearby, just as they’d left it. Without waiting for an invite, Braeburn slid the doors wide open, allowing light to spill into the otherwise pitch black shed. Vinyl led the way inside, her horn lighting up as an added measure.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Cloudchaser began, looking around the overflowing shed. “but I don’t think we’ll find anything here, this place looked like it had been ransacked before we even opened it. Trying to find something that stands out here will be like looking for a piece of hay in a stack full of needles.”

“Well then,” Soarin replied, reaching down for something the rest couldn’t see. “I guess you could say this is a piece of hay.”

Soarin turned around, smiling triumphantly, holding a shovel for the rest to see.

“A shovel,” Cloudchaser deadpanned, looking around the shed, at least a dozen other shovels visible to them. “What a rare find in a shed filled with shovels.”

“Yes, rare to find a shovel that’s been recently used in a shed full completely clean tools,” Soarin said, still grinning.

Curiosity rising, Pinkie walked over to where Soarin stood holding the shovel. Indeed every other tool in the shed that was old, but spotless regardless, but this shovel was caked in dry mud, a tell-tale sign of having recently been used.

“So what do you think?” Soarin asked, still sounding pleased with himself. “Do you think somepony fancied doing a bit of gardening work?”

“Alright, I get it,” Cloudchaser said disgruntled, “you can quit rubbing it in now.”

“You should hold onto this,” Pinkie suggested, not sure what part it could have played in this mystery, but far from willing to rule it out. Soarin nodded and carried it outside where Braeburn was still waiting.

Pinkie continued searching around. They’d got lucky with the shovel, but her hopes weren’t high for stumbling across anything else out of place. As she searched, she found herself navigating back to a familiar corner of the shed. She wasn’t even aware of why it struck her as familiar until she saw the broken lawnmower in front of her.

Remembering the broken blades sticking out every direction, making the lawnmower resemble some medieval torture device than a gardening tool, Pinkie shuddered as she looking over at the table Fleur had laid them out on.

Something was wrong, and Pinkie knew instantly what it was. The other day when Fleur had placed the blades out of harm’s way, she had laid them out in a very orderly fashion, but now they lay in a mismatched heap. Edging closer, a worrying feeling building up in her gut, Pinkie began pushing through the blades, moving very carefully so as not to cut herself on the razor sharp edges. When all the blades were once more spread out on the table, Pinkie saw it, buried beneath all the others. A single blade, covered in blood.

“I thought she died by fire,” Vinyl whispered behind Pinkie. Pinkie managed to prevent herself from jumping in surprise. Instead reaching out and picking up the blade.

It was a slow and delicate task picking it up in her hooves, a single wrong movement resulting in her losing a leg. She turned around so both her and Vinyl could see it clearly in the light of Vinyl’s horn. There was a lot of blood, mostly congealed but here and there Pinkie saw spots where the light was reflected showing the bits that had yet to dry.

“I can hold onto that,” Vinyl offered, picking the blade up in her magic. Pinkie didn’t argue, instead she just turned and left the shed.

Outside Braeburn, Soarin and Cloudchaser were all standing next to the wood pile, apparently deep in discussion. Soarin was the first to see her, and waved her over.

“Pinkie, Braeburn thinks some of the kindling wood is missing,” he explained.

“I don’t think, I know this bag was still full yesterday,” Braeburn corrected him.

“The killer probably took it to use as fuel for the fire,” Pinkie pointed out.

“Exactly,” Soarin agreed, “so they definitely came by this way, which means it’s possible they were the one who used this shovel.”

“Let’s head back to the body,” Pinkie suggested. “Maybe the others have found out something.”

Day 10, 10:06

“Any news?” Trixie asked as the group approached.

“Both doors were locked as assumed,” Pinkie replied calmly, Trixie just nodded.

“We also found a muddy shovel in the shed,” Braeburn pointed out. “And some of the kindling wood was missing.”

“We assumed as much,” Trixie replied, “there is evidence some wood fuel was used, but what of this shovel?”

“It looks like it was used recently,” Soarin explained, “I’m gonna look around this area and see if there was any digging going on recently.”

“You do that,” Trixie replied dismissively. As Soarin left she turned to Pinkie and the others. “You should come and see the body.”

Trixie turned and led the way over to the body where Fleur and Blueblood were still shadowing Redheart as she examined the blackened body.

“She looks so… peaceful,” Braeburn pointed out, gesturing at Coco’s body which was lying flat as opposed to twisted in agony.

“That’s because she was killed before she was set on fire,” Redheart explained pointing at Coco’s neck which had a massive gash running across it.

“That makes sense,” Vinyl said, bringing out the bloody blade Pinkie had found. “This was also in the shed.”

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say that’s our murder weapon,” Fleur said, her eyes briefly flickering over to Pinkie.

“Where’s Gizmo?” Cloudchaser asked suddenly, Pinkie looked around at this, realising he wasn’t there.

“I think he went to search the house,” Fleur replied. “Speaking of which, I’d better go open the doors in case we need to get through them.”

With that Fleur left, Trixie following close behind. Pinkie looked back to Redheart who had stood up from the body.

“Is there anything else?” she asked.

“No,” Redheart replied, “as far as I can tell, the killer cut Coco’s throat, most likely using that blade you found, before laying her out and lighting her up. There doesn’t seem to be anything more to it than that.”

“We should go look inside the house now,” Cloudchaser stated. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything left to be discovered out here.”

Braeburn nodded and he and Redheart began following Cloudchaser along the path back to the house.

“I’m going to go see if Soarin found anything,” Pinkie called after them. Redheart looked over her shoulder and nodded before carrying on. Pinkie turned around, this time fully aware Blueblood was standing there watching her. “You really believe I didn’t do it?”

“Of course I believe you,” Blueblood stated as if it were obvious. “I wasn’t lying when I said you didn’t have it in you to kill anyone… but, I also know you never would.”

Pinkie turned her head away so Blueblood wouldn’t see her blush. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Blueblood said, his momentary softness disappearing. “We still have to figure out who is responsible.”

He’s right, but despite what we’ve found I can’t think of anypony who could be responsible.

“Do you have any thoughts?” Pinkie asked beginning to walk in the direction she saw Soarin head off in.

“Nothing substantial,” he admitted, following after her.

"It probably doesn't help you drank your body weight in wine last night," Pinkie pointed out laughing.

"I suppose so, I can't remember a thing that happened last night," he replied with an amused smirk before his face turned grim, “but I have been a bit curious as to why your friends were so eager to pin the blame on you.”

“You mean Vinyl, Trixie and Fleur?” Pinkie asked, Blueblood nodded. “It does seem unlike them, but I don’t see any of them being murderers.”

“Did you see that doughnut maker or that Pegasus as murderers before you found out they were?” he asked rhetorically.

“Their names are Doughnut Joe and Lightning Dust,” Pinkie corrected him slightly irritably before sighing, “but no, I didn’t.”

Blueblood looked like he was about to say something, but then the both of them froze as they heard fast approaching hoofsteps. Looking to her right, Pinkie saw Soarin burst through a shrubbery, looking ecstatic about something.

“Pinkie, come quick!” he said breathlessly.

“What? What is it?” Pinkie asked, stunned by Soarin’s insistence.

“Just come on!” he shouted over his shoulder, taking off the direction he came.

Pinkie and Blueblood glanced at each other for a second before hurrying after him. They didn’t have to run far, which was good because Blueblood was proving to be vastly slower than Pinkie. They turned a corner to find Soarin standing, gasping for breath over a hole in the ground, the shovel planted firmly into the soil next to it.

“Soarin, is this…” Pinkie began, approaching the hole.

“Yeah,” he replied happily. “I wandered through here and found this patch of upturned dirt, dug around a bit and found this.”

Pinkie looked down into the small hole and gasped at what lay inside. A key with a large fob she recognised as one the bedroom keys, and a dirt encrusted hoof computer.

“Coco’s?” Pinkie asked, looking back up at Soarin.

“I think so,” he replied eagerly.

“Oh, um,” Blueblood said hesitantly, wracking his brain for something appropriate to say. “Well done?”

“Good guess,” Pinkie said quietly, smirking at Blueblood.

“We should go search Coco’s room,” Soarin suggested, “We might find something explaining why she was out here at all.”

“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Pinkie admitted, realising how odd it was for Coco to have been outside at four in the morning to begin with. “Sure, let’s check it out.”

Day 10, 10:43

Pinkie and Soarin stood outside the bedroom door, Blueblood having left them to see if the others had discovered anything new.

“Are you sure this is right?” Soarin asked.

“Let’s find out,” Pinkie said, putting the filthy key into the lock.

Despite the thin layer of grime covering it, it unlocked the door with relative ease. The door swung open revealing another generic bedroom, bed with its covers meticulously flattened out, door to bathroom, dresser and bedside table.

“Don’t suppose the guys’ rooms are any different?” Pinkie asked as the pair walked inside.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Soarin replied casually opening the dresser drawers.

Pinkie strode over to the bedside table, sliding the small drawer open and staring at its contents.

Bingo.

Pinkie picked up the folded sheet of paper, leaving the drawer completely bare.

“Soarin, I found something,” Pinkie announced, inviting Soarin to come and stand beside her as she flipped it open.

Dear Coco…

“Good start,” Pinkie said flatly.

“God that writing is messy,” Soarin gave off. “You’d think the pony that wrote this was drunk or something.”

I love you…

Pinkie and Soarin looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.

Like seriously, you are so hot, I just want to grab your plot and…

“Whoa!” Pinkie exclaimed, looking up from the paper, her face burning with embarrassment. “That’s graphic.”

“Let’s just skip that part,” Soarin suggested sounding a little disgusted himself.

If any of that sounds good to you, then meet me outside on the main drive right now!

Eagerly waiting…

“Soarin!” Pinkie and Soarin read at the same time.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Soarin began stammering, pulling the letter from Pinkie’s grip. “This can’t be right; I’d never say anything as vulgar as this.”

Pinkie was left a bit speechless, mouthing like a fish out of water.

“For me to write something as insane as this I’d have to be piss drun…” Soarin trailed off, his eyes wide in horror.

“Oh,” Pinkie said.

“Ah,” Soarin said. “But even if I did write this, how did it end up here? We went straight from the dining room to Braeburn’s room; I could never have delivered this.”

“What if somepony found it after you left the dining room,” Pinkie suggested, “they could have slid it under Coco’s door and used it to bait her outside.”

“By that logic it’s my fault she’s…”

“No! Don’t ever think that!” Pinkie scolded him. “You made a drunken mistake, but you didn’t kill her, so it is not your fault.”

“Still, I can’t believe this worked!” Soarin said in disbelief. “I always imagined Coco was the kind of mare who’d read something like this and hide under her bedcovers crying.”

“I guess we didn’t know her as well as we thought we did,” Pinkie suggested, a bit disturbed by the notion as well.

“So who could have found that letter?” Soarin muttered. “We have no way of knowing who went to the dining room after we left.”

“We should go down there now,” Pinkie stated. “We might find something.”

“God I hope so,” Soarin stressed, “because now this is looking bad for you and me both.”

Day 10, 11:03

“Vinyl!” Pinkie called seeing the DJ walk out of the dining room. Vinyl looked over hearing her name, but flinched when she saw it was Pinkie.

Just forget it, if she suspects you it’s her own problem. Just be professional.

“Yeah?” Vinyl said coolly.

“Soarin dug up Coco’s hoof computer outside,” Pinkie said, holding said item out to Vinyl. “Can you take a look at it and see if you can find anything on it?”

“Sure,” Vinyl said, telekinetically grabbing the computer off Pinkie.

Pinkie opened her mouth to continue talking, but Vinyl had already started walking away, leaving Pinkie to sigh to herself before her and Soarin entered the dining room. The room was scarcely occupied, only Gizmo sitting on a seat and Redheart circling the table.

“Oh, hey there,” Redheart greeted, seeing them enter. “How’s it going?”

“Okay, um,” Soarin began, “Redheart, you wouldn’t know if anypony else came in here after you sent us to bed last night do you?”

“No, I went to bed shortly after myself,” Redheart admitted. “Why?”

“Oh, uh, no reason,” Soarin said hurriedly making Redheart raise an eyebrow out of curiosity.

“Soarin may have written a letter in his drunken state which was used to lure Coco outside,” Pinkie explained, despite Soarin’s miniature panic attack. “We think somepony took it after you all left, but we don’t know who else was in here.”

“Well I never saw any letters,” Redheart answered apologetically.

“I never came in here,” Gizmo jumped in. “I wash in my room.”

“You’ve been in your room an awful lot these last couple days,” Soarin pointed out, his tone turning suspicious. “What exactly have you been doing?”

“Nothing!” Gizmo snapped far too quickly. Pinkie and Soarin looked at one another briefly.

He’s hiding something, I wonder what…

“Gizmo…” Pinkie began, but she didn’t get much further than that.

“Alright everypony,” the Mastermind announced. “The time for investigation is over; please make your way to the entrance hall so the trial may begin.”

“Ah, gotta go!” Gizmo exclaimed, rushing out of the room to avoid any further questions.

“See if you can’t get anything out of him,” Pinkie said to Soarin, “I’m going to have a quick look over at where you guys were sitting before catching up.”

Soarin nodded, striding from the room, followed by closely by Redheart. Pinkie hurried over to the end of the table the three stallions had been drinking at the night before. She’d have to be quick about this; she didn’t want to give the Mastermind an excuse to punish her. Reaching the end of the table she began scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. Somepony must have cleared away the glasses and bottles, probably this morning while they were having breakfast. However they might have missed somewhere.

Pinking crouched down and held up the table cloth, her eyes widening as she noticed a large patch of something dried into the carpet.

Blood?!

Author's Note

Pinkie is the murderer... What's that? You think she's innocent? Well then who do you think is the real culprit?
The time for accusations is now, for all shall be revealed in the next part of the chapter, which should be released on Monday (although it will probably be delayed).

C3: Trial By Fire

Day 10, 11:19

Once again, Pinkie Pie arrived last, running down the main staircase to join the rest of the assembled ponies. Trixie eyed her curiously, but Fleur and Vinyl avoided her gaze.

I wonder if they still suspect me?

Gizmo was talking loudly to Braeburn, who looked confused as to why he was. Soarin was floating in the background, looking annoyed before seeing Pinkie and approaching her.

“No good,” he said disgruntled. “Anytime I try to speak to him he shakes me off.”

“That’s alright,” Pinkie assured him, “if he really is hiding something to do with this case, we’ll get him to spill the beans.”

Looking beyond Soarin Pinkie saw Cloudchaser in conversation with Redheart, and beyond that Blueblood stood watching her. As she met his eye, he gave an awkward smile she knew was meant to be encouraging, she smiled back appreciatively none the less. Soarin saw Pinkie smiling and glanced around seeing Blueblood watching her, who quickly looked away as he did.

“Were you two just…” he began, sounding disbelieving, but he didn’t get any further than that when the usual rumbling noise signalled the collapsing of the stairs.

Once the path to the courtroom was paved, the ponies began moving in. Soarin cast Pinkie a concerned look before following after the crowd.

Crap! I wish he hadn’t seen that.

Blueblood was already moving in so there was no time to speak to him. Walking in behind the rest, Pinkie entered the courtroom and took her place.

“Let’s get straight to it shall we?” the Mastermind declared. “I call this trial to order.”

Trial 3: Coco Pommel

“Alright,” Cloudchaser began, “I suppose we might as well get this out of the way early, I blame Blueblood.”

“Oh come on!” Blueblood exclaimed in frustration. Vinyl sniggered, but she didn’t see the glare Pinkie shot her. “Would you all quit accusing me, I didn’t kill anypony!”

“He’s right,” Braeburn cut in, “Blueblood was drinking with Soarin and me last night, even if he wanted to there’s no way he could have killed anyone considering the state we were all in.”

“So that raises the question as to who did kill Coco,” Fleur stated. “As I have already stated, I believe the culprit is none other than Pinkie Pie.”

No surprises there.

“Alright Fleur,” Pinkie replied, “Why don’t you tell everypony what you think happened.”

“Thank you,” Fleur said in something close to her old warm tone. “I believe Pinkie Pie lured Coco from her room in the early hours of the morning. She used the master key to lock the two doors into the house in case Coco attempted to escape. She then killed her using the lawn mower blade found in the shed, before setting her alight using the matches she stole from Braeburn.”

“It’s a good assessment Fleur,” Pinkie admitted. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to tear it apart, no hard feelings right?”

“Not at all,” Fleur said with a smirk. “Go right ahead.”

“For starters, you say I lured Coco outside,” Pinkie began, “how do you propose I did that?”

“Well at a guess I’d say you simply asked her,” Fleur replied simply, “you two did seem to be good friends after all, there’s no reason she wouldn’t go with you.”

“Sorry, but you got that all wrong!” Pinkie declared, bringing Soarin’s letter out.

“Oh god,” Soarin groaned.

“This is a letter, written by Soarin in his intoxicated state,” Pinkie explained, allowing Fleur to levitate the sheet of paper over. “I’m sure it’s contents speak for itself.”

Fleur scanned the letter, her eyes widening as she did.

“This is… interesting,” Fleur said hesitantly, glancing at Soarin before passing the letter along to Braeburn. “Are you saying that Soarin is the culprit?”

“No!” Soarin exclaimed outraged.

“No,” Pinkie concurred more calmly. “Soarin wrote this while drunk, but he could never have carried out this murder while in such a state. I believe somepony found the letter after they left the dining room, and that pony used the letter as bait. They probably slid it under Coco’s door and let her come out on her own.”

“Interesting indeed,” Trixie agreed, now reading over the letter herself, displaying no visible reaction to its contents. “However this does not necessarily abdicate you, you could quite have easily been the one to take this letter.”

“I suppose so,” Pinkie agreed, she had expected that.

“More to the point,” Cloudchaser cut in, “how did you even get that letter, if Coco had it, surely it would have been burnt?”

“That’s because it was left in her room,” Pinkie explained.

“And how did you get in there?” Fleur asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“We found her room key,” Soarin began to explain. “After I found that shovel I looked around the area where Coco was killed for somewhere that might have been dug at. I found a spot, and inside was Coco’s key and hoof computer.”

“I think we can all agree that the killer was definitely the one to bury them,” Pinkie chipped in, “as they no doubt took the shovel at the same time they gathered the wood for burning.”

“No, that sounds reasonable,” Fleur agreed, “is there anything else you’d like to state? Perhaps a more reasonable excuse as to why you were outside at the time of the murder.”

“I already told you,” Pinkie said, annoyed that this was still being put to question. “I got a message on my hoof computer warning me of a fire. I went outside to check it and got knocked out.”

“You continue to claim this even though we’ve already checked your hoof computer and the message is nowhere to be found on it,” Trixie stated. “Alright, suppose this is true, how did the killer manage to lock the doors and plant the master key on you while remaining inside?”

“The main door opens up at seven,” Pinkie reminded them, “that leaves about an hour window for the killer to plant the key and get inside before anypony knew they were out of their room.”

“You can do a lot in an hour,” Redheart pointed out.

“Exactly,” Pinkie agreed, “isn’t it possible that somepony could have done it?”

“No argument,” Fleur stated, “but who else here could it have been? I’m afraid you’ll have to give us something more substantial to go on Pinkie.”

“Why don’t we continue reviewing the case?” Braeburn suggested.

“Very well,” Trixie agreed, bringing out the bloody blade Pinkie had found in the shed. “This is the murder weapon, it is blade broken from a lawnmower in the shed. The vast amount of blood clearly marks it as the weapon used to slice Coco’s throat open. This was probably done while Coco was outside as the only other blood found was on the path near the fire; if she had been killed anywhere else a trail would surely have been left.”

So that blood in the dining room wasn’t from Coco… so whose was it then?

“I would also like to point out that Pinkie was present when we first discovered the lawnmower in the shed,” Fleur chipped in.

“What about the matchesh?” Gizmo asked.

“Good point,” Fleur complimented before turning to Braeburn. “Braeburn, when were you last sure you had the matches?”

“That’s easy,” Braeburn said proudly, “shortly before Blueblood showed up with all that wine, Cloudchaser asked me if we were going to light another fire that evening, I definitely checked for them then, and they were still in my saddle bags.”

“So the matches had to have been stolen sometime while the guys were drinking,” Cloudchaser summarised.

“And we already know Pinkie had gone and spoken to them during that time,” Trixie reminded them, “it would be easy for drunken stallions not to notice a pickpocket.”

Dammit! Any time I make an argument, they just fill it with holes on the basis that I could have done stuff.

“It wasn’t Pinkie,” a small voice said. Everyone heard it, but nopony knew where it came from.

“It wasn’t Pinkie,” Vinyl repeated, louder this time, her voice shaking.

Pinkie looked over at Vinyl, who was staring at her hoof computer, horror in her eyes.

No that’s not Vinyl’s hoof computer, hers is lying on the bench in front of her. The one she’s wearing is far too dirty, it must be…

“What do you mean Vinyl?” Fleur asked, confused.

“This is Coco’s hoof computer;” Vinyl began to explain, “Pinkie gave it to me to see if I could find out anything from it. But when I put it on…

Vinyl stretched her hoof out so Pinkie could see the screen. It was currently displaying the digital map of the courtroom, but Pinkie could see what Vinyl had noticed written along the top of the screen.

Vinyl Scratch, DJ.

“I don’t undershtand,” Gizmo said nonplussed when he saw Vinyl’s screen.

“It says my name,” Vinyl pointed out, “it’s not my computer but it still says my name!”

“Oh!” Fleur said, realising what Vinyl was getting at.

“Care to explain it for those of us who aren’t tech geniuses?” Soarin asked.

“If this is computer automatically displayed my name when I put it on,” Vinyl began, “what’s to say it really was Coco’s?”

“The fact that everypony else has their computer,” Blueblood suggested with a shrug.

“Well imagine Pinkie really had been knocked out by the killer,” Vinyl suggested, “and they switched Pinkie’s hoof computer with the one they had stolen from Coco, then buried Pinkie’s. You’d never be able to tell the difference… unless you went through the messages and found one that only Pinkie Pie claims to have received…”

Vinyl turned her computer around once more, a new screen displayed on it, stark white with a single word visible in the centre.

Fire.

“You really had been sent that message,” Vinyl said to Pinkie, her voice full of guilt. “And I called you a liar.”

Pinkie didn’t reply, she couldn’t find the words.

“Hey now,” Gizmo interrupted, “Pinkie could eashily have shent that meshage from the other computer in order to throw ush off the scent.”

Pinkie inwardly groaned, she was so close to clearing her name and then somepony had to find another reason to blame her. She looked around the room at the different ponies, Soarin clutching his letter, Blueblood watching her worriedly, Trixie holding the blade in her telekinesis, Vinyl holding the other compu…

Hang on!

“Trixie,” Pinkie said suddenly, drawing everypony’s attention. “That blade, could I see it for a moment?”

Trixie nodded, her face betraying her curiosity as she levitated it over to Pinkie Pie who took it in her outstretched hooves. Pinkie fiddled with the blade in her hooves, forced to hold it very loosely so as not to cut herself. She looked up grinning.

“I could not have killed Coco,” Pinkie declared proudly, “And I can prove it!”

Everyone fell silent, staring at Pinkie in anticipation.

“Would anypony who’s handled this blade agree it’s rather difficult to hold onto with hooves?” Pinkie asked, she was met with a couple nods. “Because I’m finding it impossible to get a good grip on this thing without cutting my own hooves off. Redheart, you saw the cut in Coco’s neck, would you say that could have been made by anypony who didn’t have a tight grip on their weapon?”

Redheart’s eyes widened as she realised what Pinkie was referring to. “Not at all,” she said, sounding pleased, “to make a cut that deep, regardless of how sharp the tool was, a pony would need a firm grip on it.”

“Exactly, and I don’t think anypony here could get a good grip on this,” Pinkie began. “At least, they couldn’t with their hooves… magic on the other hand!”

“So, only a unicorn could have committed this murder?” Soarin asked, looking over at Blueblood, Fleur, Trixie and Vinyl.

“Indeed,” Fleur agreed, “I can’t argue with that, only a unicorn could have killed Coco, which means Pinkie is indeed innocent.”

“I blame Blueblood!” Cloudchaser declared loudly.

“For the last time, I didn’t…” Blueblood began to say before being cut off by Pinkie.

“Maybe we should review the case as a whole before making any more accusations,” Pinkie suggested. “So the killer managed to get a hold of Soarin’s drunken letter and steal Braeburn’s matches at some point while the guys were drinking. They then used the letter to lure Coco outside where they killed her with the blade they took from the shed before lighting her on fire using the stolen matches and wood. I then arrived on the scene, at which point the killer knocked me out and swapped our hoof computers, burying mine along with Coco’s room key. They then returned the shovel and blade to the shed and locked the two outside doors. They then most likely waited until the main door opened, before planting the master key back on me and retreating into the house to pretend they had been there all along.”

“And presumably the killer sent you that message in order to lure you out and make you into their scapegoat,” Trixie added.

“Actually no,” Vinyl argued before hastily adding, “Pinkie’s still innocent, but I don’t think this message was sent by anypony here.”

“What gives you that impression?” Soarin asked.

“Well this message has a white background,” Vinyl explained showing the screen once more, “same as the message Pinkie received detailing the times when the front door opened and closed. However, when I forwarded that same message to everypony else, it had a black background.”

“So you’re saying the Mastermind sent Pinkie a warning about the fire?” Cloudchaser asked sceptically.

“Well I’m not saying that creep did,” Vinyl corrected, “just that when we send messages they appear differently.”

Did the Mastermind really send me that message? What did they stand to gain from me discovering the body early?

“Now that you mention the Mastermind,” Blueblood began thoughtfully, “is it not possible the killer didn’t have to wait until seven before re-entering the house? Perhaps the Mastermind opened the door early for them.”

“You’re making it sound like the Mastermind is the culprit,” Redheart commented, “or that they’re working alongside the killer.”

“Who’s to say that they aren’t?” Trixie whispered enigmatically.

“That all sounds right so far… mostly,” Fleur pointed out. “But it doesn’t tell us who the culprit is.”

No, but it had to be somepony who had access to Soarin’s drunken letter and Braeburn while he was drunk…

Pinkie froze, a dark thought creeping into her mind.

How did the master key even get into my bag in the first place…

Pinkie looked up, across the courtroom at the stallion almost opposite her.

Who’s to say that was really blood under the table?

“Do… any of you three guys who were drinking, have any injuries?” Pinkie asked steadily.

“Huh? No, don’t think so,” Soarin said, looking himself up and down.

“I’m certainly right as rain,” Braeburn chipped in.

“Yes, me too,” Blueblood agreed. “But what does this have to do with anything?”

“Because I don’t think all three of you were drunk,” Pinkie said quietly, “I think one of you was pretending… I think one of you has been pretending a lot of things…

“Prince Blueblood!”

“What?!” Blueblood exclaimed, and he wasn’t the only one this time. Everypony had some surprised outburst at Pinkie’s accusation. “You’re blaming me?! I thought you understood me!”

“I thought I did too,” Pinkie replied coldly, “but that’s only because it’s what you wanted me to think.”

“What possible reason could you have for accusing me?” Blueblood demanded, his friendly, concerned tone slipping away to reveal his true nature.

“While searching the dining room I found a large red stain bellow the table,” Pinkie began, “specifically under the part you were sitting at. At first I thought it was blood, but then I remembered you were drinking red wine, or should I say, Soarin and Braeburn were drinking, you were pouring your glasses out under the table!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Blueblood said with a painfully strained laugh. “That would suggest all my inane ramblings about how to say master bedroom in a spooky voice was just an act.”

“Funny, you told me you didn’t remember anything that happened last night,” Pinkie responded emotionless, Blueblood’s eye twitched. “I also seem to remember you pressing an inebriated Soarin to tell Coco of his crush,” Pinkie continued, “perhaps to the point where you even managed to convince him to write a letter saying to meet him outside.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up!” Blueblood shouted, still trying and failing at laughing. “I would never knock you out let alone laugh while I did.”

“I never told anypony the culprit laughed as I passed out,” Pinkie stated, silencing Blueblood. “And of course, being a unicorn you’re one of the only four ponies here that could have killed Coco.”

“And yet I don’t see you blaming any of them!” Blueblood accused, no longer trying desperately to laugh it off.

“That’s because they didn’t plant the master key on me to begin with!” Pinkie retorted. The room fell silent, Blueblood’s eye twitched. “It was so obvious, but because of how you had so expertly confused me, I hadn’t seen it at the time. You put the key in my saddle bags when you kissed me!”

“Wait, he did what?!” Vinyl exclaimed, sounding furious. She wasn’t the only one to have an outraged exclamation at that.

“I also recall Fleur and I finding a key shaped imprint in the ground at that place you first ambushed me,” Pinkie continued, “you had tried to plant it on me then, but you dropped it out of surprise when Cloudchaser interrupted you.”

“So what?!” Blueblood exclaimed, “even if I did give you that key, it has nothing to do with this murder!”

“Actually, it has everything to do with this murder,” Pinkie corrected him. “Where did you get that key?”

Blueblood refused to open his mouth, his eye twitching angrily.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to answer, because I’ve already worked it out,” Pinkie said calmly. “The Mastermind gave it to you.”

“You mean…” Trixie began, staring at Pinkie wide eyed.

“It’s true isn’t it?” Pinkie stated, Blueblood still refused to respond. “The Mastermind sent me that message because you were working with them, and you needed me to be your scapegoat.”

“Hang on a second,” Cloudchaser interrupted, looking thoughtful. “When I saw him looking at his hoof computer outside…”

“He wasn’t looking at anything,” Pinkie confirmed, “he was talking to the Mastermind, planning out his murder. So after killing Coco, the Mastermind messaged me about the fire so you could turn me into your patsy, further reinforcing it with the master key you had given me earlier. And like you yourself said, you didn’t have to wait for the front door to open at all, the Mastermind opened it temporarily for you once you were done outside. And to stop me from investigating further into you, you tried to make me fall for you.”

“Don’t pretend it didn’t work,” Blueblood whispered in a dark voice. Pinkie didn’t answer

“Well done,” the Mastermind announced the sound of clapping echoing around the courtroom. “I must say, I am truly impressed this time.”

“You helped Blueblood,” Trixie stated angrily, “why?”

“Oh don’t feel too bad,” the Mastermind replied, “I never really intended him to come out victorious.”

“What?!” Blueblood exclaimed, “You promised me I would win this stupid game and leave!”

“I lied,” the Mastermind said simply. “I offered Blueblood the master key just after the first trial, on the condition that if he didn’t use it, I would help him carry out a murder so he could win the game.”

“Why though?” Soarin asked, utterly confused. “What did you stand to gain from helping him?”

“It was only intended to be a failsafe,” the Mastermind explained, “a way to get the ball rolling again if the murders ceased. Unfortunately, Blueblood had no patience, and insisted on carrying out the plan regardless of whether I assisted him or not. Naturally I was left with little choice if I didn’t want him wasting the opportunity I had bestowed upon him.”

“I assume most of this murder can be accredited to you then?” Fleur asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Mastermind begun, sounding amused, “all of this murder can be accredited to me. Do you really believe that an illiterate dimwit such as Blueblood could devise any scheme regardless of complexity? No, I had to walk him through every step of the way, and suffer his incessant whining the whole time. I don’t want to pretend to be friends with the cloudhead and the mud pony. I don’t want to kiss Cotton Candy.”

“I can’t believe you would hit on Pinkie!” Vinyl exclaimed, giving Blueblood a death glare.

“I can’t believe she fell for him,” Gizmo commented before withering under the look Pinkie gave him.

“Yes I was the architect, so go ahead, cast your votes and have me executed,” the Mastermind said, in a mock woeful tone, “Oh wait, you can’t vote for me without knowing my identity. Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to settle for the next best thing… my instrument.”

The dials on the benches in front of every pony began to glow, indicating it was time to vote. Pinkie looked over to Vinyl who gave her a single nod before mercilessly turning her dial, Blueblood’s face appearing on the screen behind her.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Blueblood screeched as more ponies began turning their dials and his face appeared on more screens. Looking at him now, Pinkie struggled to recognise him as the stallion she almost fell for, as he flailed his hooves around in fury, spittle flying from his mouth as he screamed obscenities at everypony around him. Pinkie looked to her right, at the screen showing Coco’s greyscale face, scarred by the bloody red X. Then, without remorse, Pinkie turned her dial to Blueblood.

All the screens that didn’t show a deceased pony now displayed Blueblood’s face, apart from one which showed Pinkie’s own face, one final act of defiance on Blueblood’s part. At once, the screens all blanked, and the ‘GUILTY’ screen began its rotation around the room.

“You tricked me!” Blueblood screamed at the Mastermind’s screen, even though it no longer displayed the sea of pixels. “You told me I would win this! You told me they would never figure it out!”

“Have some dignity in death Prince Blueblood,” the Mastermind said as the ‘GUILTY’ screen stopped right behind Blueblood. “You have been found guilty of the murder of Coco Pommel. Now let’s see how blue your blood really is!”

The ground beneath Blueblood vanished, and the still screaming stallion plummeted into the darkness. Silence rang in the room; everypony staring up at the screens, waiting for what they knew would come. Seconds trickled away, turning into minutes; Pinkie began to wonder if something had gone wrong. Her doubts were dispelled shortly after when the screens came to life, showing all the assembled ponies a wide view of Blueblood strapped to a surgery table, dozens of narrow tubes inserted into every section of his body, trailing out and connecting to several large containers of vibrant blue liquid.

On the table Blueblood struggled fruitlessly against his bonds, all the while still hollering curses at the Mastermind, Pinkie and the rest. Pinkie eyed the vats of blue liquid warily, it was so bright and inviting looking, but something about it sent chills up Pinkie’s spine. She very quickly found out why as a little red light on each of the containers turned green, and the tubes began filling up very slowly with the liquid. Pinkie watched as the stream of blue crept further and further down the tubes, Blueblood who seemed unaware of this was still fighting against the restraints.

Pinkie braced herself as the liquid reached the end of the tubes, and presumably began pumping into Blueblood’s body. The effect was instantaneous, Blueblood stopped screaming, his eyes bulging open alongside his gaping mouth, his entire body going rigid. Pinkie looked around at the others to see if they understood any better what was going on, but they all looked as confused ad disturbed as she did, with the exception of Redheart who was refusing to look at the screens.

Blueblood’s body began trembling, and Pinkie could just about make out a faint sizzling noise. She didn’t have long to contemplate what this meant however, as all at once, steam began rising from Blueblood’s body, his pristine white coat turning dull. Then it got really disturbing…

Blueblood’s forehoof was the first to go, the hair vanishing as the flesh began bubbling black and dissolving around the bleached white bone and liquefied muscle, the blue acid running free from the stump where his leg used to be. The other limbs followed suit, blistering and burning away in mere seconds, any organic material dissolving from the inside out, leaving only sizzling bones in their place.

Blueblood gurgled as deep scarlet blood began pooling from his mouth as well as running from his nostrils and eye sockets. His mane and tail began falling out, but once the hairs landed on the floor in the now wide pool of acid, they too sizzled and burned away until nothing remained. When all the limbs were gone, the head and torso quickly began dissolving also. The abdomen didn’t last long, shredding away in seconds leaving whatever entrails and guts that survived the scorching to slop to the floor.

The face stretched over the skull melted away leaving a silent screaming skull. In the end, all that remained were bones lying in a pool of acid and liquid pony, the straps long having burned away, the tubes and needles hanging limply from the containers, having nothing to stay attached to any longer. Only then did Pinkie tear her eyes from the screen, finding she was one of the few to have watched all the way through. Her nostrils stung with the stench of vomit from somewhere in the room.

Looking down, she saw the runes at her hooves had stopped glowing. Wordlessly, she stepped back from the bench in front of her, and trudged out of the room.

Author's Note

There never was a romance tag...
Unfortunately nobody correctly guessed the culprit (which is ironic considering the one guy on the left has been barking up that tree right up until this chapter)
Oh well, thank you to the few of you who participated none the less, hopefully through the next chapter we'll get some more readers taking part (as well as more readers in general)
Also, if you're making a guess as to who the culprit is, please don't guess multiple suspects.

C4: The Missing Link

Day 11, 07:53

Pinkie opened her bedroom door, half expecting to be ambushed as was so often the case. To her slight disappointment, the corridor was deserted. Following yesterday’s trial she had returned to her room, collapsed on her bed where she remained perfectly still for the next several hours, trying and failing at assessing how exactly she felt. Naturally she hadn’t eaten in all that time, so now as she walked down stairs to the dining room she found herself feeling utterly famished.

Arriving outside her destination, Pinkie exhaled and braced herself, hesitant at what she might have to face today. As seconds trickled by and it became apparent it wouldn’t get any easier, she just bit the bullet, and walked in as if nothing were wrong.

Surprisingly the dining room was almost empty, occupied only by Fleur and Braeburn, the latter of which was pouring tea for the first.

“Thank you,” Fleur said forlornly once her cup was full. Braeburn just nodded back and turned to wheel the tray beside him back to the kitchen, when he spotted Pinkie.

“Oh, Pinkie, you’re up,” he declared surprised; Fleur’s head snapped up at the mention of Pinkie’s name, her eyes wide and filled with worry.

“Yeah, I was getting pretty hungry,” Pinkie admitted, giving a nervous grin.

“Sure thing, you just wait here while I fix you something up,” Braeburn insisted, carrying on out of the room, “I remember how much you like apple pies.”

“I do, thanks,” Pinkie replied gratefully, giving Braeburn a genuine smile as he left.

Once he did, the room was filled with an icy silence as Fleur stared down at the rippling surface of her tea and Pinkie pulled up a seat nearly opposite her.

I should probably say something… I don’t know what to say.

Thankfully Pinkie was saved from having to figure something out when Fleur spoke up, her voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry Pinkie,” she said simply, still refusing to look up. “I… I should never have suspected you.”

“Why?” Pinkie asked sounding disinterested, Fleur looked up surprised. “I looked pretty guilty, had it been the other way around I probably would have suspected you too. You did what you had to; you had to think about everypony’s wellbeing.”

“But…” Fleur began, sounding distraught. “You trusted me, you treated me like your friend, and I turned on you and dismissed your story when you needed me most. I think you should have this back.”

Fleur levitated the master key onto the table in front of Pinkie.

“It’s seriously alright,” Pinkie insisted, taking the key before her and storing it back in her bag, “we still got the real culprit in the end.”

“Yes, Blueblood,” Fleur stated coldly, “to think we were fooled by that egotistical worm.”

“It was the Mastermind that fooled us,” Pinkie reminded her, “Blueblood could never have pulled that off on his own.”

“True,” Fleur agreed. “I must admit, I’m a little surprised by his… methods.”

Pinkie didn’t answer, instead just looked away, grimacing. She was saved from having to confront that issue by the reappearance of Braeburn wheeling in a steaming apple pie. Pinkie licked her lips upon seeing it, the mere smell causing her to forget about her plight. Fleur was thoughtful enough not to bring it back up once Pinkie had been served a large slice and had begun digging in. While she ate, the others began arriving into the dining room, some greeting Pinkie warmly, others simply offering her a polite nod.

Trixie sat down next to Pinkie, helping herself to her own slice of pie from the now half empty dish in front of Pinkie.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Trixie commented as she cut away at small helping.

“Not at all,” Pinkie encouraged happily, still munching on her own spoonful.

“I’m not going to apologise,” Trixie said suddenly, causing Pinkie to look up surprised.

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Pinkie replied honestly. She didn’t think Trixie was that type to apologise of her own accord even if Pinkie had wanted one.

“If any of us are expected to get out of here in one piece,” Trixie continued, “we have to make tough decisions, that includes accusing our friends.”

Did Trixie just admit we were friends?

“I understand that,” Pinkie responded honestly.

“I hope so,” Trixie stated, “because from this point onwards we can’t afford any more murders distracting us from our goal.”

“Do you have a plan?” Pinkie asked hopefully.

“Well after almost two weeks of near nonstop reading,” Trixie began to explain, “I have been forced to conclude that we can’t beat the Mastermind’s magic, instead we have to beat the Mastermind themselves, and to do that we need to figure out who the Mastermind is.”

“Do you still suspect Orchid?” Pinkie questioned.

“I still consider it to be a distinct possibility,” Trixie corrected, “an empty grave is one thing, but when you consider he number of beings capable of using the kind of old magic I’ve read about…”

Trixie drifted off, Pinkie nodded solemnly.

“Oh yeah,” Trixie said, as if only just remembering something. “Vinyl asked Trixie on the way down here to inform you that she needs to speak with you, apparently she couldn’t face you in front of everypony else.”

Pinkie nodded, trying to suppress her smirk.

I wonder if she notices how she slips out of speaking in third person when she’s being serious.

Day 11, 08:38

Vinyl muttered under her breath, the spell she had just cast apparently yielding no results. Pinkie smirked from the balcony of the entrance hall before announcing herself.

“Still not getting anywhere?” Pinkie asked, causing Vinyl to metaphorically jump out of her skin.

“Pinkie, I…” Vinyl began before stammering incoherently.

Pinkie walked down the main staircase briskly, coming to a halt in front of Vinyl and offered her a friendly smile. That seemed to be the tipping point for Vinyl who rushed forward, her glasses flying off as she embraced Pinkie in a hug that could rival her own.

“I’m so sorry,” Vinyl cried, burying her face in Pinkie’s coat as her body shook with sobs. “I should have trusted you, I should have…”

“Vinyl, it’s alright,” Pinkie declared, cutting Vinyl off. Pinkie held her out at arm’s length; Vinyl’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. “You did what you thought was right, I don’t hate you for it. Besides, it was you who cleared my name when you found the message, I should be thanking you.”

“Dammit Pinkie,” Vinyl exclaimed as a fresh wave of tears overcame her.

Day 11, 08:49

Vinyl had finally calmed down, and the pair now sat on the bottom step in the entrance hall, chatting casually, Vinyl occasionally giving a small sniff.

“So Trixie’s still barking up that tree huh?” Vinyl said after hearing what Pinkie had to say.

“You don’t believe it’s him?” Pinkie asked.

“It just seems like such a stretch you know,” Vinyl answered. “Saying some few hundred year old mage is still secretly alive inside his old house, just sounds like another one of those ridiculous conspiracy theories, like King Sombra was actually an alicorn.”

Huh, I’ve never heard that one before, but then his cloak did cover his back…

“I just think there’s a far more plausible explanation,” Vinyl finished enigmatically.

“You do?” Vinyl nodded before looking around them, as if making sure they were alone.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said at the first trial,” Vinyl continued, “about how there’s always sixteen places, even though there was only fifteen of us.”

“You think there really is a sixteenth pony?” Pinkie queried, “And you think they’re the Mastermind?”

“I think it’s more likely than what Trixie has suggested,” Vinyl replied, “and I would bet any money that if we went to the second floor right now, there would be sixteen bedrooms.”

“Even if there is, how would we get inside?” Pinkie asked. “Even the master key can’t open the bedroom doors, and we’re not allowed to force them open.”

“If we’re gonna get out of here, we have to start breaking the rules,” Vinyl declared, standing up.

“Vinyl,” Pinkie began unsure.

“After the trial yesterday,” Vinyl continued, switching her train of thought suddenly, “I cast a quick sonar spell, there are other rooms beneath this floor.”

“So how do we get to them?” Pinkie asked, standing up next to Vinyl.

“No idea,” Vinyl admitted. “I’m still no closer to getting through these stairs.”

“Why not ask Trixie for help?” Pinkie asked, “She seemed to have hit a dead end with her research in the library anyway.”

“She has?” Vinyl asked, “I guess I will then. Come on, I’m not going to get anything more done here.”

Together the pair ascended the stairs, making for the dining room, but as they did the sound of approaching hoofsteps could be heard. Looking up, the pair saw Fleur approaching.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Fleur asked hesitantly as Vinyl quickly put her glasses back on.

“No, we were just going to find Trixie,” Pinkie explained.

“She’s still in the dining room,” Fleur explained, “but I’ve had a thought, maybe we should seal the shed up. We can’t risk the tools being used to murder anypony else, but there’s far too much there to take inventory on like we do with the lab and kitchen.”

“Sure, I think the chain is still outside the shed anyway,” Pinkie pointed out, leading the way back towards the dining room.

Day 11, 09:24

The nine remaining ponies were gathered around outside the shed, looking into the still open doors, Fleur holding the previously discarded chain in her magic.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Braeburn asked unsure.

“Of course it is,” Soarin insisted. “Those tools are nothing but trouble.”

“I get that, but don’t you think we should at least keep some stuff with us?” Braeburn argued. “Nothing dangerous, just some stuff that might come in handy.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” Pinkie agreed. Braeburn led the way into the shed, Soarin following closely behind.

Looking around, Pinkie saw Vinyl deep in conversation with Trixie, no doubt discussing teaming up to get through the staircase in the entrance hall. Fleur was standing idly by, still holding the chain. Redheart, Gizmo and Cloudchaser were all chatting animatedly. After several dull minutes, the two stallions returned, carrying between them a single red tool box.

“It’s not a lot, but at least we’ll have them should we need them,” Braeburn said with a shrug. Pinkie nodded before stepping forward and helping Soarin close the doors.

Once they were shut, Fleur telekinetically wrapped the chain through the handles once more, clicking the padlock once she was done.

Day 11, 11:02

“It was just a few screw drivers, pliers, the usual stuff,” Braeburn explained as he took his shot at the pool table. “If any of you need them, they’re up in my room.”

“Hey guys,” Cloudchaser called from beside the fireplace, “any chance of getting a fire lit up in here?”

“Are you cold?” Soarin asked from the sofa where he sat. “It feels pretty toasty to me.”

“I have crap circulation,” Cloudchaser explained, “I always feel cold.”

“Sure, we can go grab some wood,” Braeburn offered, “I’ve still got the matches.”

“Thanks,” Cloudchaser said appreciatively, “hey, didn’t Gizmo say he was going to join us here for a game?”

“I thought I saw him heading up to his room,” Pinkie commented, rubbing the tip of her cue with chalk.

“Is it just me, or has he been spending an awful lot of time hiding from the rest of us?” Soarin asked suspiciously.

“Maybe he thinks we’re going to murder him,” Cloudchaser said laughing. “But seriously, I’ll go check on him while you guys get this fire lit.”

Cloudchaser made to leave the room, but had to sidestep past Vinyl who was trying to come in.

“Redheart said you were in here,” Vinyl said, approaching Pinkie.

“Did you get any further with the stairs?” Pinkie asked, taking a shot.

“Nah, Trixie said she’d help me later,” Vinyl explained, “I was wondering if you wanted to go check the bedrooms now.”

“Sure, I’m almost done here anyway.” Pinkie took one final shot. “Okay, now I’m done. Let’s go.”

Day 11, 11:40

Pinkie and Vinyl stood before a door, a seemingly ordinary door.

“So this is the one,” Pinkie repeated for the dozenth time.

“Well it’s the only one not accounted for,” Vinyl stated, “assuming we’re right in being able to identify everypony else’s rooms.”

So this is it, the sixteenth room, the room of the missing pony…

Pinkie reached out and turned the handle. To neither of their surprise, the door was locked.

“Do you want to try the maser key?” Vinyl asked, “Just to be sure.”

Pinkie obliged, but naturally the key refused to fit into the lock let alone open the door.

“Are you sure you want to try forcing our way in here?” Pinkie asked. Vinyl bit her lip, clearly torn between the desire to see beyond the door, and the fear of being punished.

“I think we have to,” Vinyl said at last, turning around and rearing her hind legs.

“Wait!” Pinkie shouted, just before Vinyl’s bucked. “Why don’t we get Braeburn to take the door off the hinges with his tools? That’s not forcing, right?”

“Sure,” Vinyl agreed, sounding slightly relieved. “Let’s go get him.”

Day 11, 12:16

Pinkie and Vinyl watched in anticipation as Braeburn unscrewed the last of the hinges. Redheart and Fleur just watched with innocent curiosity.

“A sixteenth pony,” Redheart whispered, “how did we never see them?”

“Maybe they too are working with the Mastermind,” Fleur suggested bitterly. “It certainly gave the last pony who did a leg up.”

“Or maybe they are the Mastermind,” Vinyl whispered so only Pinkie could hear. Pinkie gulped, never taking her eyes off the door; as if afraid its occupant would scarper the moment it was cracked open.

Braeburn removed the final screw so that the door was now just balanced precariously against his hooves. Noticeably sweating, he eased the door out of the frame, leaning it against the wall. Braeburn stepped away from the open door, clearly unkeen on being the first to enter. Vinyl instead took it upon herself to walk forward, and when Pinkie heard her gasp, she too rushed in.

The room was a mess to say the least; the dresser was collapsed to the floor, its drawers lying haphazardly around the room. The bedside table had been smashed to pieces, the sheets shredded over the bed. The window had been boarded up, so hardly any light penetrated the room, giving it an eerie and unwelcoming vibe.

“Well this isn’t encouraging,” Fleur said, entering after Pinkie. Nopony responded, each too disturbed by what they had discovered to manage anything.

Pinkie set about searching around the room, in the remains of the dresser and bedside table for anything that might provide a clue as to who was staying here. Approaching the bed with Vinyl, they checked under the sheets and mattress, but found nothing. Walking towards the bathroom door, Pinkie opened it to find a dim light bulb still flickering absently inside. While the bathroom was in a fairly intact state, it still sent the same chill down Pinkie’s spine the rest of the room had.

“Anything in here?” Redheart asked from the other side of the door. Pinkie opened her mouth to answer no, but stopped as something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Stepping across to the shower, a damp towel lay balled up on the floor, but it was what stuck out of it that drew Pinkie’s attention. Reaching out, Pinkie grasped the towel and shook it, dislodging whatever was inside and causing it to fall to the floor of the shower. Discarding the towel, Pinkie looked down at what was now before her. Three powder white feathers.

Day 11, 13:15

“Definitely Pegasus feathers,” Soarin said, examining the white feathers before him. “I’d be a mule’s uncle before I couldn’t recognise Pegasus feathers.”

All the ponies sat around the dining room table, two of the feathers in front of Soarin, the last being held by Cloudchaser.

“Where did you find these again?” Cloudchaser asked.

“In the sixteenth bedroom,” Vinyl repeated, “Braeburn took the door off the hinges.”

“So there really were sixteen ponies,” Trixie commented, levitating one of the feathers from Soarin over to herself to examine.

“It would seem so,” Fleur agreed, “but why would the Mastermind keep this one locked up?”

“And who are they shupposhed to be?” Gizmo asked.

“And what happened to them?” Braeburn chipped in, sounding worried.

“Maybe nothing did happen to them,” Vinyl stated, causing everypony to look at her in surprise. “Think about it, another pony who was definitely in this house, but we’ve never seen…”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Trixie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not?” Vinyl stated defiantly, “that courtroom has sixteen seats, and the Mastermind occupies the one that was always empty. Coincidence?”

“Still doesn’t tell us who this sixteenth pony was,” Redheart interrupted. “We probably all know dozens of pegasi with white feathers, heck, I’m sure Pinkie could name everypony in Ponyville that fits that criteria.”

“It’s true, I could,” Pinkie agreed.

“Well, at least this brings us a little closer,” Soarin said, handing his feather back to Pinkie.

“Well if that’sh all,” Gizmo began standing up from his chair. “I have shome bushinessh I need to attend to.”

And before anypony could open their mouths, he had sped from the room.

“Did you ever figure out what he up to?” Braeburn asked Cloudchaser.

“No, he wasn’t in his room earlier,” she admitted, “I don’t know where he’s been going.”

“Somepony should keep an eye on him,” Trixie stated. “It won’t do to have one of our own keeping secrets from us.”

“Alright, I’ll go after him now,” Soarin said, standing up and leaving the room.

“Do you really believe Gizmo is a threat?” Redheart asked in disbelief.

“Do you want to take that risk?” Trixie asked. Redheart remained silent. “Trixie didn’t think so. Now if that is all, Vinyl would you like to go look at the staircase now?”

“Sure,” Vinyl said, leading the pair from the room.

“What about the rest of us?” Pinkie asked looking to the remaining ponies.

“Well I’m going to get back to lighting those fires,” Braeburn explained, mostly addressing Cloudchaser.

“I’ll come lend you a hoof,” she replied.

“And I think I’ll head to the library,” Fleur said standing up. “Since Trixie is no longer working there, it will give me something to do. Would either of you care to join me?”

Pinkie and Redheart looked at each other, giving a small shrug before answering simultaneously.

“Sure.”

Day 11, 15:39

“Ancient magic indeed,” Pinkie whispered to herself as she scanned the pages of one of the books Trixie had left out.

The whole thing was like reading runes to Pinkie, and the process had given her newfound respect for Trixie that she could comprehend all this. From what Pinkie could gather, it was incredibly complicated magic, she doubted even Twilight could have performed it perfectly.

Orchid the Omnipotent… So called for his skills in all fields of magic, not just his own.

Trixie was convinced the absence of Orchid’s remains was the proof that he was the Mastermind, but Vinyl believed it was nothing more than superstition.

Magic can be cast by all ponies, not just unicorns.

Was it not possible then, that Vinyl was right, that the mysterious missing Pegasus could be the Mastermind?

Who is the Mastermind? What do they stand to gain from any of this? They claimed they were more than a mere sadist, which would indicate all this has some meaning to it, so what’s the meaning? What reason could anypony have for forcing others to kill each other?

Pinkie groaned, slamming the book shut. All these questions, she felt like she was going around in circles, but at the same time it was almost as if the answers were staring her in the face. Looking around she saw Fleur was still deep in reading, while Redheart was browsing the shelves, apparently finding nothing of interest in the pile Trixie had left out.

Pinkie stood up and approached a shelf at random. Looking up at the plaque above it she discovered it was the history shelf.

Better than nothing.

Scanning the spines, Pinkie began listing off the titles, only half interested in what she was doing.

History of the Crystal Empire. A Date with Discord. Mare at Arms: a Complete History of Equestrian Weaponry. How many chickens does it take to lay siege to Canterlot? The Arcane Manor. The Elements of Har… Wait, what?

Pinkie scrolled back one book, pulling out the surprisingly light tome titled ‘The Arcane Manor’.

It probably won’t say anything we don’t know already, but it’s better than reading about chickens attacking Canterlot… which I’m pretty sure is a foal’s book.

Taking the book back to her seat, Pinkie pushed her previous book aside, and set the considerably smaller one in its place.

In the year 214 Post Unification, the great mage Rosethorn established the foundations of her first school east of the new settlement of Van Hoover. The school would be known as the Arcane University, and served the primary goal of training the most prodigious unicorns in the magical arts. It has been rumoured, Rosethorn did this with the intention of building an army to suppress the other pony races and reassert unicorn dominance.

Pinkie stopped reading, surprised at the racist undertones behind the very building she was sitting in.

Whether this was the case of not, the school was forced to close down by the first Equestrian government following a magical accident resulting in the creation of what is today known as Galloping Gorge.

“Huh, you learn something new every day,” Pinkie said in a thoughtful tone before continuing.

The school was henceforth renamed the Arcane Manor, and given to Rosethorn’s apprentice Foxglove, thus beginning the tradition of the manor’s ownership passing from great unicorn to great unicorn. Once the manor had passed ownership to Foxglove, he proceeded to make some structural changed, including the expansion of the manor underground…

Pinkie suddenly perked up at this point, becoming far more attentive than she had been previously.

For the purpose of carrying out geological experiments. However during the reign of Discord, the underground caved in. To this day there has never been any attempt made to regain access to the basement floors.

“Well somepony must have,” Pinkie commented.

(see page 62 for a copy of the last map of the underground)

Pinkie furiously flipped forward to the indicated page, finding a cramped diagram spread over two pages of the different underground levels. The first map showed a few rooms, including one large round room Pinkie knew very well. This room was labelled ‘mine shaft’.

So the courtroom used to be an entrance to the underground caverns, so the holes the culprits fell through probably lead down there somewhere.

Near that room, Pinkie saw the staircase entrance drawn on, but what really drew her attention, was the presence of a room adjacent to the corridor leading from the bottom of the stairs to the courtroom.

That’s weird, I never saw another room.

The map indicated there was a door leading into it, but Pinkie was sure they had never seen that door. Beyond that, the map suggested there were two other entrances from the first floor to the underground. Small labels indicating that these entrances emerged near the other doors to the house.

Satisfied with this find, Pinkie closed the book, shoved it into her bag, and hurried from the library to find Vinyl and Trixie, leaving a perplexed Fleur and Redheart in her wake.

Day 11, 16:50

“Anything?” Pinkie asked hopefully as Trixie’s horn stopped glowing.

“Nothing,” Trixie said in dismay. “The book wasn’t lying, there was definitely a room beneath this one, but from what I can tell it was never restored like the courtroom was.”

Pinkie sighed. The kitchen had been their first destination, being the closest to the east grounds door.

“How about the pool?” Vinyl suggested, looking over the map. “It’s probably the other room that led downstairs according to this map.”

“No,” Trixie said dismissively, “you are right, but to build that pool they no doubt renovated the rooms bellow it. That section of the basement probably doesn’t exist anymore.”

“So the only entrance actually leading anywhere is the one in the entrance hall,” Pinkie summarised, disappointed that her discovery had amounted to nothing.

“It would appear that way,” Trixie agreed, “but don’t be too miffed, you were right to bring this up, at least now we can rule them out.”

Pinkie smiled slightly. “Did you get anywhere with the stairs?”

“No,” Vinyl said, sounding annoyed. “Trixie thinks the Mastermind’s magic is blocking us from opening it, like it does when we try to teleport.”

“Clearly something is down there,” Trixie commented, “or they wouldn’t put so much effort into keeping us out.”

“Yeah, like this room,” Vinyl pointed out, gesturing at the map. “Next trial, we have to look for that room.”

“What do you mean next trial?!” Pinkie asked, horrified. “I think we’ve had more than enough already.”

“Oh, yeah,” Vinyl began sounding guilty. “I just mean, if there’s another trial, which I hope there won’t be, it would give us a good excuse to look into this room.”

“Hopefully it won’t resort to that,” Pinkie said worriedly. “Come on; let’s go see what the others are up to.”

Day 11, 19:20

Pinkie Pie laid sprawled out in front of the fire in the parlour, half sleeping. She had to admit, Cloudchaser knew how to use her hooves.

“Where did you learn to massage like that?” Pinkie asked, in a slurred voice.

“In my profession, it pays to be good with your hooves,” Cloudchaser said giggling. Pinkie might have shuddered at that, but she was too relaxed to care what Cloudchaser was implying.

Braeburn had just re-entered, bringing in refills of hot chocolate for everypony. Redheart and Trixie were playing a game of chess, while Fleur observed intently. Soarin lay exhausted on one of the sofas while Vinyl causally curled up next to him, lightly snoring. Gizmo was nowhere to be seen.

Trixie and Redheart were both staring intently at the board in front of them, each whittled down to their kings and a couple of pawns each. It had quite basically turned into a race as to who could get their pawns to the opposite end of the board faster, a race Redheart was certain to win.

“You know,” Trixie said suddenly, “What say we call it a draw?”

Redheart opened her moth to refuse, but then closed it when she remembered that despite being closer to the end of the board; her king was still in more immediate danger once Trixie traded in her pawns.

“Sure,” Redheart conceded. Reaching out a hoof to Trixie, who stared blankly for a few seconds before realising she was expected to shake it.

“Well that was… interesting,” Fleur commented as Trixie and Redheart shook on their mutual victory.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Trixie asked suspiciously.

“Well, I lost count of the number of moves you both could have made which would have most certainly resulted in you coming out the winner,” she explained, slightly smugly.

“You want to put your pieces where you mouth is?” Trixie challenged. Fleur grinned slyly.

“Gladly.”

Redheart moved away to allow Fleur to take her place. Once the pieces were rearranged, Trixie confidently moved her first pawn out two spaces. Fleur responded by telekinetically moving her own pawn a single space barely a second after Trixie had moved her piece. Trixie was a bit thrown off by this, deciding to take the next move slowly. After several painfully boring minutes, she finally moved a single pawn forward one space. As soon as she did Fleur moved her queen.

“Checkmate,” she declared smugly.

“What?!” Trixie shouted, casing Vinyl to jolt awake and fall off the sofa. “Impossible! I can still move my… my…”

Trixie’s eye twitched as she scanned the board, desperately looking for a move she could make. It quickly became apparent there was none, and she fell back in her seat in a huff.

“Chess is stupid!” she declared, pouting.

Day 12, 10:01

“You know,” Cloudchaser announced, breaking the silence around the dining table. “We’ve been here for almost two weeks; do you think anypony’s looking for us?”

“God I’d like to think so,” Vinyl replied haughtily. “Forget the fact that among our group was two nobles, the element of laughter and an alicorn princess, I’m sure all our friends and families will have noticed our disappearances and our looking for us.”

“What are we supposed to tell them when we get out of here?” Braeburn asked.

“Forget that,” Pinkie interrupted, “what are we supposed to tell the families of those who didn’t make it?”

“The truth,” Fleur said simply, “we owe them that much, and besides, we’re not to blame for all this.”

“Which brings us neatly back to the question, who is?” Trixie stated.

The table fell into silence once more.

We know the Mastermind is somewhere in the house based on what Trixie and Vinyl discovered from the power crystal in the screen. Since the master bedroom and the sixteenth bedroom were both empty, where does that leave? The basement?

“Let’s just take it slow,” Fleur suggested. “So long as no more murders occur, we should be able to investigate in peace, and sooner or later the truth will come out.”

“I wish I could still feel that confident,” Soarin said with a sigh.

“Maybe you should take your own advice and do some exercise,” Pinkie suggested, “I know I haven’t done any for a few days, why don’t we head over to the gym now?”

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” Soarin agreed.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to be watching Gizmo?” Braeburn cut in.

“I would if I could figure out where he was going,” Soarin complained. Pinkie looked around the table to confirm that once again Gizmo had disappeared.

“I’ll go look for him then,” Braeburn said exasperatedly, standing up.

“Why don’t we just send him a message?” Cloudchaser proposed, tapping the screen on her hoof computer.

“If you want to,” Braeburn said noncommittally, “anything’s better than running around this house, looking out for any blinking red dots.”

“Are you alright?” Pinkie asked, concerned.

“No, of course I’m not alright!” Braeburn fumed, “I have a town, an orchard and a family I need to look after. If I stay cooped up in this dungeon much longer I’m going to do something crazy!”

The ponies around the table all froze, glancing nervously at one another, unsure how to respond. Only Cloudchaser reacted differently, rushing forward to Braeburn and wrapping him in a big hug, slipping her forehooves beneath his jacket.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said in a surprisingly comforting tone. “We all want to go home. Just don’t lose faith.”

“Uh…” Braeburn mumbled, his frustration ebbing away, replaced by awkwardness as Cloudchaser held him very close. “Thanks Cloud, I really needed that.”

“Any time,” she said pulling away from him. “We’ve got to support each other if we’re going to get out of here.”

Day 12, 13:14

“I gotta say Soarin,” Pinkie said, breathlessly as the pair left the gym. “You sure know how to give a girl a workout.”

Soarin’s face turned bright red. “Yeah, you could say that… in any way other than that.”

Stallions are weird.

“But yeah,” Soarin continued, coughing awkwardly. “I’m surprised you managed as much as you did. I’ve seen candidates for the Wonderbolts who couldn’t bench as much as you could.”

“Well I am an earth pony,” Pinkie reminded him, “and I grew up on a rock farm.”

“A rock farm?” Soarin repeated confused.

“It’s like a quarry but…” Pinkie began, hesitating, “not.”

“Okay…” Soarin replied awkwardly, unsure whether he wanted to know what the difference was or not. “Hey, there’s Braeburn.”

Pinkie looked up and saw Braeburn stomping around in frustration, looking around the floor.

“Hey Braeburn, what’s up?” Pinkie asked cheerfully as they approached. Braeburn looked relieved upon seeing them.

“I’m trying to get into my room here,” he explained, “but I must have dropped my key, can you lend me a hoof?”

The two ponies agreed, and together they searched the corridor for Braeburn’s lost key, it didn’t take long for Pinkie to find it lying awkwardly behind one of the plant pots.

“Thanks Pinkie,” Braeburn said appreciatively as he offered him it. “Don’t know how it ended up there seeing as how I walked up here from the opposite direction. Where were you two going anyway?”

“We’re going to hit the showers,” Soarin explained.

“Ah yeah, probably for the best,” Braeburn stated, taking note of the sweat glistening on their coats before unlocking his room and stepping inside.

“Do I smell to you?” Pinkie asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“Uh…” Soarin hesitated. “Why don’t we hurry on over to the wash rooms.”

Pinkie gave a small moan as they continued walking.

Day 12, 13:51

Pinkie stepped out of the wash room, still towelling herself off. Soarin had already departed some time earlier, and she was left wandering the hall alone

“Hey Pinkie!” a voice called out.

Well that didn’t last long.

Pinkie turned to see Cloudchaser and Redheart approaching her.

“Hey girls,” Pinkie greeted, “what’s up?”

“Redheart here just pointed out that there might be more wine in the master bedroom,” Cloudchaser explained. “So we’re going up there to look, and if there is we can have a party later, just us girls, no boys allowed.”

“I meant,” Redheart cut in sounding disgruntled. “That since Blueblood found the wine, and he was working with the Mastermind, maybe there are things other than alcohol in the master bedroom, and we should go have another look.”

“Oh don’t be a prude,” Cloudchaser said, rolling her eyes. “Sure we’ll look for other stuff, but if there is wine, it’s party time. So what do you say Pinkie?”

“Well Redheart’s right, there might be something of interest in there,” Pinkie stated, Cloudchaser groaned at Pinkie’s response. “But I am also an expert when it comes to parties.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cloudchaser said delighted, taking hold of Pinkie and Redheart and skipping down the hallway.

Once the trio arrived upstairs they found the double doors to the master bedroom still open as they had been left. Once inside they found the room fairly undisturbed, no different to how it had been when they first discovered it.

“Alright, let’s get searching,” Cloudchaser declared, sounding like a filly on Hearts Warming Day.

Redheart rolled her eyes before setting about her own search. Pinkie joined in, but she didn’t exactly know what she should be doing considering they had already searched here and found nothing, they hadn’t even found the alcohol Blueblood had claimed to find here. Taking a quick glance into the bathroom, Pinkie found the bathtub still stained various shades of purple. Coming back out she found Redheart sitting on the bed, staring blankly at a small box in her hooves, the drawer of the bedside table lying open next to her.

“Did you find something?” Pinkie asked. Redheart didn’t answer, her spaced out look was beginning to worry Pinkie who walked over and sat down beside her. In her hooves was a small blue, velvet box, and cradled within was a gold band with a large diamond set in the top.

“I was engaged to be married before all this began,” Redheart said weakly, staring at the ring.

“Doctor Stable?” Pinkie queried, she knew they had certainly been dating at one time or another. Redheart nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

“I came here, because I received a letter from our wedding planner,” Redheart explained, “or, what I had thought was our wedding planner. The letter said this mansion was available for the wedding reception, and that I should come and see it. I didn’t tell my fiancé where I was going, I wanted it to be a surprise. But before I left, he told me he was getting cold hooves, and he wanted to call the whole thing off.”

Pinkie put a hoof around Redheart’s shoulder as she closed the box and set it back inside the drawer.

“I don’t think I’d shouted at anypony so much in my life,” Redheart continued with a gulp. “The things I said to him… I don’t want those to be the last words we ever exchanged. But… I don’t think I’d be able to face him anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Pinkie asked, softly but confused.

“I became a nurse to save ponies, to help them,” Redheart explained, “and yet in less than two weeks I passed judgement on three ponies, resulting in their deaths. I turned that dial, I’m just as responsible for their deaths as the Mastermind, how am I supposed to face him or anypony knowing that?”

“It is not your fault,” Pinkie insisted, “if you didn’t vote, we all would have died. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but we still did it, not because we wanted them to die, but because we had no choice if we wanted to survive.”

“She’s right,” Cloudchaser chipped in, “we have to make tough decisions if we’re going to get out of here. Besides, they were murderers.”

“In medicine,” Redheart began, her voice turning icy, “we don’t care what a pony has done. They could be a royal guard injured in duty or a criminal injured during a heist. We treat them just the same; no different than if they were male or female, earth pony, Pegasus or unicorn. But then, I wouldn’t expect somepony in your profession to understand anything about that.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Cloudchaser demanded, her wings flaring out. “You think just because I sleep with ponies for money I don’t have morals! Let me ask you something, how much work do you think a Pegasus gets when she can’t even fly high or far because she gets too cold too fast? The answer is not a lot. Now how much less work do you think that same Pegasus gets when she’s the full time career for her younger sister who can barely feed herself because of a brain disorder? I came here because I received a letter, offering a shit ton of money for my services, money that could have gone a long way in affording full time care for Flitter. Am I proud of what I do for a living? Hell no! But if it means keeping a roof over Flitters head then so be it. But don’t you ever imply that just because of my job, I don’t care about others!”

Pinkie was frozen in stunned silence; Redheart was looking at her hooves in shame.

“I’m sorry,” Redheart whispered, “I didn’t know.”

“Because you didn’t ask!” Cloudchaser spat back. “Nopony ever asks, they just make their assumptions and treat them like fact!”

Redheart didn’t respond, Pinkie couldn’t blame her, had she been in her position she wouldn’t have known what to say either.

“You know what,” Cloudchaser said bitterly after a long silence. “Forget the wine, I don’t really care anymore.”

And with that she stormed out of the room, leaving a very guilty looking Redheart and a very uncomfortable feeling Pinkie in her wake.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to find here,” Redheart said, her voice devoid of all emotion as she stood up.

Pinkie nodded silently, standing up as well as Redheart left the room. Soon Pinkie was alone in the master bedroom, hundreds of thoughts swimming around her skull.

“Ugh!” Pinkie groaned, collapsing to the floor in frustration.

Everypony was in such a good mood, how did it turn so sour?

Pinkie rolled onto her side, her face pointed under the bed, and she immediately forgot all about Redheart and Cloudchaser.

A box, a large trunk lying under the bed. Reaching forward, Pinkie grasped the edges of the box and slid it out. It was heavy; Pinkie couldn’t tell if it was because of the box itself or its contents. It was a fairly expensive looking trunk, like something ponies in Canterlot would use for carrying their luggage, and despite how otherwise insignificant it looked, Pinkie couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of familiarity towards it. The trunk was locked with two clasps, and luckily neither appeared to be locked.

Undoing them, Pinkie felt the lid spring slightly, and braced herself as she opened it up.

Day 12, 14:42

Everypony get your flanks to the master bedroom right now!

Pinkie had hoped that message sounded urgent enough when she sent it, and now after everypony had rushed in after mere minutes of pressing send, she was quite sure it had done the job.

“Well Pinkie,” Vinyl asked slightly impatiently, being the first to come speeding through the door. “What’s the big news?”

“I just found this under the bed,” Pinkie stated flatly, gesturing to the trunk before her. All eyes focused down on it.

“Sherioushly?” Gizmo said, “Nopony thought to check under the bed?”

“Well I didn’t see you diving under there,” Vinyl muttered, disgruntled.

“So what’s inside?” Fleur asked curiously.

“Well…” Pinkie began hesitantly, before deciding she could just let them see for themselves, and opened the trunk.

Everypony gasped at what was inside.

“Is that…” Trixie began.

“It is,” Pinkie confirmed.

Trixie reached in with her hooves, as if forgetting she had magic out of sheer shock. Standing back up, she held out her forehooves, within which was cradled a skull. Well most of a skull, the top half of the cranium seemed to have been lost at some point, or it was lying amongst the rest of the pony skeleton occupying the trunk.

“What in Equestria is a skeleton doing in a box, under a bed, behind a locked door?” Soarin asked in disbelief, leaning down to examine the other bones.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie admitted.

“Well, who’s skeleton is it?” Cloudchaser asked, sounding like she had either gotten over or forgotten what had taken place not long before.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie repeated.

“You don’t think,” Vinyl began, looking over to Trixie. “This is the body that went missing from the crypt?”

“Orchid?” Trixie stated, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe, although this skull is missing a horn… as well as a few other parts.”

“Maybe it’s in amongst here,” Soarin proposed.

“Maybe,” Fleur agreed looking to Redheart. “Redheart, do you think you’d be able to figure anything out about it?”

“I think I could,” Redheart confirmed, “but I’d need it taken somewhere with good light and a lot of space to lay everything out.”

“How about the gym?” Soarin proposed. “Plenty of space down there.”

“Yes that will do,” Redheart assured them.

“Alright then,” Fleur said, “Let’s get this moved down stairs.”

Day 12, 22:00

Pinkie Pie entered the gym, stifling a yawn. She was just about ready for bed but wanted to have one last look in to see how the others were doing reassembling the skeleton. As she entered the room she found Redheart, Trixie and Fleur all standing around the bones.

None of them are doing anything, maybe they’re finished.

Walking over Pinkie found the bones had been arranged on the floor to resemble a near complete pony skeleton. The first thing she noticed was the lack of wings, the second thing being the still incomplete skull.

“So what do we think?” Pinkie asked, announcing her presence.

“Well,” Redheart began, “it is possible it’s a Pegasus, and that all that wing bones have been removed, but that’s unlikely. It’s probably more likely to be a unicorn or an earth pony, however without the missing section of skull, that’s purely up to guesswork.”

“There are also ribs and other small bones missing,” Trixie explained, “as well as that, most of the bones seem to have degraded quite a lot. It’s quite possible the top half of the skull is broken and missing due to natural causes.”

“But do you believe that’s what happened?” Pinkie asked curiously.

“Trixie does not know what to believe,” Trixie admitted. “But then, Trixie is fairly tired.”

“We can come back to this tomorrow,” Fleur pointed out. “You both did a good job; you should go get some rest now.”

Trixie and Redheart both nodded, leaving the gym together.

“This just keeps getting more complicated by the second,” Fleur commented before turning and leaving herself.

Now alone with the skeleton once more, Pinkie crouched down, examining the skull closely.

I suppose it could have just come off over time, but if it didn’t, why would anypony break the horn off a unicorn?

Day 13, 09:16

“So in conclusion,” Cloudchaser said with a mouth full of toast. “We don’t know who the skeleton is.”

“Unfortunately,” Trixie admitted, dully stirring her tea.

“Well why don’t we take this day off just to relax?” Cloudchaser suggested. “No worrying about skeletons and missing ponies.”

“What would you suggest?” Pinkie asked.

“Well why don’t we get wood brought in, and get fires ready in the games room and parlour,” Cloudchaser began, “we spend the afternoon in the games room, and the evening in the parlour.”

“You know what…” Trixie began sounding disgruntled, “that sounds like a very welcome idea.”

“Great,” Cloudchaser exclaimed, while everypony else looked at Trixie in surprise. “Guys, can you give me a hoof getting the fires ready?”

“Sure,” Soarin said having just finished his breakfast.

“Alright, but I’ve gotta come back here straight after to get the kitchen cleaned,” Braeburn stated.

The three left the room, and Pinkie turned to Trixie.

“You think taking a day off is a good idea?” Pinkie asked in disbelief.

“Trixie’s head is fried,” Trixie explained, “we’re getting nowhere and quite frankly, Trixie needs a break.”

“Fair enough,” Pinkie said, swallowing a spoonful of cereal.

“Can we go work on the staircase for a little while this morning before we head on over there?” Vinyl asked eagerly. “Last night I had a brainwave, and I want to try it out.”

“I suppose,” Trixie agreed, sounding disinterested.

“What about you girls?” Pinkie asked, looking over at Fleur and Redheart.

“I am going to look for Gizmo,” Fleur said curtly, “his constant disappearances have gotten to the point where I no longer think it’s safe to have him unaccounted for.”

“I can help with that if you want,” Redheart offered.

“Would you?” Fleur asked. “If I check the upper floors could you search this one?”

“Sure,” Redheart said, standing up. “I’ll get right on it.”

Once those two had left, Pinkie, Vinyl and Trixie were left alone. The only sound being the slurping of Trixie with her cup of tea.

“Alright,” Trixie said at last, “shall we go test your brainwave?”

Day 13, 11:19

“Dammit!” Vinyl exclaimed, her horn extinguishing. “I was sure that was going to do it.”

“It was a valiant effort,” Trixie admitted, “but now we must stop, Trixie needs to rest.”

“Yeah alright,” Vinyl said, sounding disappointed.

“Don’t worry,” Pinkie began, “we can continue tomorrow, and I’m sure we’ll make progress.”

Just as the words left Pinkie's mouth, she felt her tail begin to twitch violently.

Twitchy tail? That means...

“Yeah, maybe you’re…” Vinyl began, only to be cut off by a deafening smashing noise echoing down the corridor into the entrance hall.

“What in Tartarus was that?!” Vinyl exclaimed, clutching her chest.

“Sounded like it came from the kitchen or the dining room,” Pinkie pointed out.

Not wasting any time, all three ponies galloped up the steps, charging towards the source of the noise. As they drew closer to the dining room, Pinkie found a thousand worrying thoughts spinning around her mind, but as they rounded the doorway into the dining room, all those thoughts were dismissed by a far worse reality.

The crystal chandelier was no longer attached to the ceiling; instead it was now lying in the centre of the wreckage that was once the dining table. And barely visible beneath the shambles of metal and crystal, were four light gold hooves, a brown cowboy hat, lying discarded on the floor.

Pinkie could only whisper, “Oh Braeburn…”

Author's Note

Let the wild accusations begin!
I have no idea when the next part will be up... maybe... hopefully... Friday (?)

C4: Manhunt

Day 13, 11:23

Trixie was the first to approach the wreckage, standing precariously on top of the destroyed table, to get a look at the top of the chandelier that had until recently connected it to the ceiling.

“Maybe it was an accident,” Vinyl suggested, although her tone made it obvious she didn’t believe that for a second. “What’s to say it didn’t just fall out on its own?”

“Yes, because why wouldn’t the chandelier unscrew itself?” Trixie said sarcastically, “and fall on Braeburn who was casually laying spread eagle on the dining room table? You know, like he always did.”

“Fine, I get it,” Vinyl said disgruntled, “We’ve got another murder on her hooves.”

“Attention everypony,” the Mastermind announced, causing all three mares to jump slightly. “A body has just been discovered in the dining room. Your time to investigate will begin now; the trial will be called in a few hours.”

Just as the recording finished, Soarin rushed in, breathless.

“I heard the crash and ran as quickly as I could,” he explained, still gasping for air, “Then I heard the Mastermind say…”

It was at that moment he stopped to take in what was before him, from the chandelier now embedded in the table, to the body pinned beneath it.

“Oh crap,” Soarin finished lazily.

“Crap indeed,” Trixie agreed, looking around impatiently. “Where are the others? How did they not hear that sound?”

As if on cue, the sound of hurrying hoofsteps were heard, and soon after, Fleur cantered into the room. She took one glance around, from the gathered ponies to the body crushed under the chandelier, and composed herself like it was just another day on the job.

“What do we know so far?” Fleur asked, joining the rest of them.

“This chandelier was unscrewed,” Trixie pointed out. “If it had been forced out, the screws would probably still be stuck in it, and I’m sure there would be damage to the ceiling.”

Trixie looked to Soarin expectantly, who took the hint quickly and ascended to the ceiling.

“Not a crack,” Soarin reported.

“So we can definitely rule out any possibility that the chandelier just fell out,” Trixie summarised. “Which now raises the obvious question, why was Braeburn lying beneath it anyway?”

“Sorry I’m late,” Redheart said, hurrying into the dining room, her eyes stretching wide at the sight before her. “What happened? The Mastermind said there was a body.”

“Braeburn was crushed by the chandelier,” Pinkie informed her.

“You took your time,” Trixie stated, hoping down from the table.

“Well I was near the gym when I heard the announcement,” Redheart replied tersely.

“So where is Gizmo and Cloudchaser?” Vinyl asked, looking over to the door, as if expecting them to run in on cue like the others had.

“I passed Cloudchaser near the parlour shortly before the announcement,” Redheart explained. “She should be here soon I imagine. As for Gizmo…”

Redheart didn’t get any further than that, as at that point an ear splitting scream rang through the room.

“That sounded like Cloudchaser!” Soarin exclaimed, running into the hallway. Pinkie and the others followed closely behind.

Once outside the dining room the agonised cries carried on, sounding distinctly close by. Soarin ran up the hall, heading for the kitchen, the others on his tail. Once he reached the open door he stopped for a second, frozen in horror at what he was seeing.

“Cloudchaser!” he yelled, running in.

Pinkie was the second to the door, and she immediately saw what had disturbed Soarin so much. Cloudchaser lay slumped against one of the kitchen counters, clutching her left wing which was barely attached to her, trying desperately to stop the blood pouring from the massive wound in her back. Pinkie simply stood at the side, stunned by what she was seeing, while Redheart pushed past them all and ran over to Cloudchaser’s side.

“Soarin, take my room key,” Redheart began urgently, throwing her key towards Soarin. “Grab the medical supplies I have there and bring them here as fast as you can. Now!”

Soarin didn’t need told twice, grabbing the key and flying from the room in a blur of colour. Redheart grabbed a clean tea towel and was pressing it against Cloudchaser’s injury, trying to stem the blood flow. All the while Cloudchaser cried for Celestia, for her mother, for her sister, the aguish piercing through Pinkie’s heart.

Day 13, 12:39

“That’s all I can do,” Redheart said at last, standing up from her patient, who lay cradled by Soarin and Pinkie. Every one of them was covered in Cloudchaser’s blood.

“Will she be alright?” Fleur asked terrified.

“She’ll live,” Redheart began, her voice dark, “but she’s suffered a lot of nerve damage, there’s a distinct possibility she’ll never fly again.”

“Cloudchaser,” Trixie said in a loud clear voice, leaning down beside the barely conscious Pegasus. “Do you know who did this to you?”

Cloudchaser nodded slowly, more tears rising to her eyes.

“I was on my way to the dining room,” she began weakly, “when I heard somepony in here. I came in and saw Gizmo, I didn’t know what was going on, but when he saw me, he panicked and grabbed the knife off the counter and…”

Cloudchaser trailed off as she began sobbing more. Standing up Pinkie took her first proper look around the kitchen; from where Cloudchaser had been lying was a large trail of blood leading up to the carving knife, discarded near the open door to the grounds.

“Gizmo,” Trixie said coldly, “it makes sense, he’s been avoiding us like the plague for days now, and he was a tinkerer, nopony better capable of rigging that chandelier to fall.”

“But where is he now?” Soarin asked, “if he went outside, he could be anywhere in the grounds by now, or he could have come in through a different door and could be in the house right now.”

“We have to find him,” Fleur stated, “investigating will just have to wait, we can’t have a dangerous stallion running free.”

“I’ll search the grounds,” Soarin offered, “I’ll be quickest covering ground as I can fly.”

“The rest of us can search the house,” Fleur said before remembering Cloudchaser. “Although first, Redheart and I will move Cloudchaser to one of the parlours for her to lie down in."

“Go to the one where we drink hot chocolate in,” Soarin suggested, “we prepared a fire in there, she’d probably appreciate that.”

Fleur nodded, and levitated Cloudchaser, and under Redheart’s guidance, they led her from the kitchen towards the parlour.

“Well,” Vinyl said once they were gone, her voice hoarse. “That just leaves us three to search the house.”

“You two should stick together,” Trixie stated, making for the hallway. “Watch each other’s backs in case he tries anything desperate.”

“What about you?” Pinkie shouted after Trixie.

“I can look after myself,” Trixie muttered back before departing from the room.

Day 13, 13:02

Pinkie and Vinyl stood outside Gizmo’s bedroom door, Vinyl tapping her hoof impatiently before reaching up and knocking the door a second time.

“Well I don’t hear anything,” Pinkie pointed out, pressing her ear against the door. “Including the sound of broken glass, so if he is in there he’s not so desperate that he’d throw himself out the window.”

Pinkie then looked at the digital map on her hoof computer; it showed two blinking red dots standing outside the room, but none inside.

“This says there’s no one inside,” Pinkie informed Vinyl.

“If you turn your computer off it doesn’t show up on the maps,” Vinyl replied, “I found that out a while back.”

“Well maybe he…” Pinkie began, not getting much further than that.

Vinyl spun around and bucked the door as hard as she could, causing Pinkie to squeal in surprise. The door remained steadfast, while Vinyl lay in a crumpled heap.

“Whoa,” Vinyl said, sounding dizzy.

“Vinyl!” Pinkie screamed, “are you trying to get us killed?!”

“Relax Pinkie,” Vinyl assured her. “You wouldn’t have got punished for something I did. Besides, as soon as I hit the door I got shocked, they must be protected with magic.”

“So now what?” Pinkie asked, still breathing heavily.

“Well he can’t stay in there for ever;” Vinyl said confidently, “the Mastermind did say anypony who didn’t participate in the trials would be killed.”

“Unless Gizmo is working with the Mastermind again,” Pinkie suggested, before mentally slapping herself.

No, they wouldn’t do that… not twice in a row at least, too predictable.

“Well then there’s no point standing out here any longer,” Vinyl said, starting down the hall. “Let’s check the third floor.”

Day 13, 13:50

Soarin stomped into the parlour where the rest were gathered, eager to hear if he had had any luck outside. However upon seeing his dismayed expression, they immediately figured the worst.

“I search high and low,” Soarin complained, “he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Well he didn’t just evaporate!” Trixie snapped.

“Hey, don’t get pissy with…” Soarin began just as angrily, before falling silent very suddenly, his eyes locked on the roaring fire in the hearth.

“Soarin?” Pinkie said, pulling him out of his trance.

“Who lit that fire?” Soarin asked suddenly, throwing everypony off guard.

“You did, didn’t you?” Vinyl answered as if it were obvious.

“No, Braeburn and I just prepared the fires,” Soarin corrected, “You know, setting the wood in and prepping it for lighting up later.”

“So what’s the problem?” Redheart asked from where she sat next to a barely conscious Cloudchaser. “Somepony probably saw the fire ready to be lit and thought they’d be helpful and start it up.”

“Except Braeburn had the matches when he went to the kitchen to clean up,” Soarin explained, “right before he died.”

“So who has the matches?” Fleur asked looking around, nopony owned up.

“What are you getting at?” Trixie asked.

“Before Braeburn died, he had the matches and the fire wasn’t lit,” Soarin elaborated. “If nopony here took or found the matches after he was discovered, then somepony must have taken them before he was killed, and the only pony who had to have been in the area at the time was the killer.”

Pinkie opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Soarin sped from the room, leaving a very perplexed room of ponies. Seconds later he came speeding back, the same determined look on his face.

“The other fire’s lit too!” he exclaimed.

“What’s the point?!” Vinyl demanded.

“Does anyone know if there is a passage connecting those two fireplaces?” Soarin asked.

The room fell utterly silent, as what Soarin was hinting at settled in. All at once, Pinkie, Soarin, Vinyl, Trixie and Fleur rushed from the room, sprinting to the kitchen and filling any container they could lay their hooves on with water and hauling them back to the parlour and game room. Several minutes later both fires were extinguished, and Soarin was fanning the air furiously to rid the chimney of excess smoke.

“If he tried to hide in there…” Redheart began, trailing off.

Everypony knew what that meant, but nopony wanted to say it out loud. Pinkie stepped forward as Soarin continued to fan the open hearth.

“I’ll go up,” she volunteered.

“Well pull up a chair,” Soarin said curtly, “it’s gonna be a while before this chimney is clear enough to be safe for crawling through.”

“Trixie can take care of that,” Trixie stated stepping forward, her horn aglow.

Pinkie expected her to cast something on the fire, but to her surprise, Trixie’s spell instead hit her square in the face. Once she regained her balance she noticed a large bubble expanded around her head.

“Breathing shouldn’t be an issue with that,” Trixie explained.

Pinkie nodded, and approached the fireplace once more as Soarin stepped to the side for her. Stepping inside the surprisingly spacious fireplace, Pinkie was forced to watch where she placed her hooves very carefully, lest the coals retained some heat despite being doused in water. Once she was inside, she pressed her hooves to the walls around her, and began manoeuvring herself up. Thankfully she didn’t have to travel very far as the entrance to the secret passage was only at head level… Celestia’s head admittedly, but that still wasn’t too far to climb.

Once her forehooves reached into passage, she used all her strength to haul her body up inside. It was a much tighter squeeze at this part, had Gizmo been a much bigger stallion, Pinkie would have ruled this out immediately. What little light entered the fireplace from the game room, didn’t reach this far, so the passage was entirely pitch black.

With some difficulty, Pinkie managed to angle her forehooves so that she could freely tap the screen of her hoof computer with her free hoof. Navigating through the now familiar screens, she reached one where the single option was displayed to her.

Turn Light On?

Hitting yes, the words vanished, the whole screen lighting up like a torch. Angling herself once more, Pinkie turned her hoof so that the light shone through the tunnel. It didn’t travel very far, as something large was blocking the tunnel about half way through. Bracing herself, Pinkie began crawling down, every inch she pulled herself, the more she could make out what lay before her. The slicked back mane, the thick rimmed glasses, the large bowtie.

Pinkie stopped a couple feet from Gizmo’s body, giving a small sigh in her protective bubble.

I’m sure he would have given anything for a spell like this while he choked to death. But why didn’t he just crawl out when the smoke first started pouring in?

Pinkie got her answer as she saw what was clutched in his hooves, a large tool box.

“I’m coming out!” Pinkie shouted back, she heard muffled confirmation, and began shuffling back the way she came.

The trip out was considerably slower than the one in, but once she was finally at the edge of the passage, she allowed herself to drop down, where she was caught by Soarin.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, before noticing the soot he too was now covered in and adding, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes,” Pinkie said looking down. “Gizmo’s in there… he’s dead.”

“What?!” Fleur exclaimed, “How?”

“He must have choked on the smoke,” Pinkie exclaimed. “He had Braeburn’s tool box, I think he panicked and got himself wedged into the passage with it and couldn’t escape.”

“Damn,” Vinyl said in a low voice.

“I suppose it makes sense,” Trixie said, her voice betraying no emotion, “he must have used the tools to drop the chandelier, then tried to stash the evidence away.”

“Seems kind of like karmatic justice,” Vinyl pointed out, “he killed Braeburn, and then died himself when somepony lit the fires, not realising he was inside.”

“Wait, that can’t be right,” Soarin argued. “Somepony had to take the matches; it obviously wasn’t Gizmo, which means there had to have been someone else there.”

“Are you saying this is a double murder?” Vinyl asked unsure.

“Maybe,” Soarin answered, “it just couldn’t add up otherwise. Braeburn wasn’t restrained on the table, so how did Gizmo get him to lie there while he dropped the chandelier?”

“I can think of a few ways,” Cloudchaser slurred, giggling slightly. She sounded like she was heavily doped up on pain killers.

“And then somepony must have lit the fires when they knew Gizmo was in the passage,” Soarin continued, “why else would they light both of those fires in particular?”

“Well I’m not saying you’re wrong Soarin,” Redheart began, “but this all seems like a massive stretch.”

“I think he has a point,” Pinkie stated, “we should at least work with the assumption that this is a double murder.”

“Very well,” Trixie said, walking over to the fire place, her horn lit up once more. “Trixie will try to retrieve the body, how far in was it Pinkie?”

With Pinkie’s direction, as well as a little extra tugging from Vinyl, Trixie managed to telekinetically drag Gizmo’s soot smothered body from the fire place, dropping it unceremoniously onto the parlour floor.

Well at least the smoke is masking the smell of death.

Vinyl reached down and prised Gizmo’s hoof computer off.

“I’ll get working on this,” she explained, walking away with it, presumably to get it cleaned.

Pinkie, Redheart and Trixie all crouched down around the body. Using a tapestry Trixie had wrenched from the wall, they began rubbing the soot off Gizmos body. Once the scum was rubbed off, he looked perfectly ordinary, no other obvious injuries. However as Pinkie continued to look, she began to feel a slight itching in her skull, something was wrong, and while it was right before her she couldn’t place her hoof on what it might be.

Why is this body bugging me… and why do I feel like the same thing has bothered me earlier today?

Vinyl re-entered the room, carrying a stained cloth and a now fairly well restored hoof computer. Pinkie left the body, unable to figure out what was bothering her about it, and walked over beside Vinyl.

“Can you not clean that screen anymore?” Pinkie asked, pointing at the stains covering the screen.

“Not with a dry cloth,” Vinyl answered, giving the screen a tentative sniff.

“So what are you looking for?” Pinkie asked as Vinyl began tapping through various screens, with absolute ease.

“Messages for a start,” Vinyl answered. She reached said screen and Pinkie began reading the messages over her shoulder.

09:08- Braeburn- Are you comin down for breakfast? I need to know how many eggs to fry up.

09:19- Fleur- Gizmo, you’ve been gone for a while now, would you please let me know where you are.

10:11- Soarin- Gizmo, we're trying to get wood in for the fires, could you come lend a hoof

10:46- Redheart- Gizmo if you’re in your room, would you please answer the door.

11:20- Cloudchaser- Hey Gizmo, r u hittin the games room with us today???

All the messages after that were sent after patching Cloudchaser up, and were all variations of ‘where the heck are you?!’.

“Nothing useful there,” Vinyl said, moving to a different window.

Pinkie wasn’t sure what Vinyl was looking at now, but whatever it was she seemed to find very interesting.

“What’s that?” Pinkie asked when Vinyl’s eyes went wide.

“His search history,” Vinyl explained, “it basically shows the frequency at which he views different pages. In this case, Gizmo has been spending an awful lot of time viewing the profiles for Cloudchaser, Fleur and… me, wonderful.”

Vinyl flicked over to her own profile screen and held the hoof computer at an angle so the light reflected off it. Alongside Vinyl’s basic information was a full view image of her. Pinkie noticed that the position of the image correlated with the stains on the screen.

“Ewwww!” Vinyl and Pinkie exclaimed at the same time as they joined the dots.

“Attention everypony,” the Mastermind announced, “the trial will begin shortly, if you could make you way to the entrance hall so that we can begin.”

“Wait!” Redheart called out, “Cloudchaser’s in no state to be moved.”

“It’s alright,” Cloudchaser said, sounding more lucid than the last time she spoke. “I can manage.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” the Mastermind continued, “I’ll have a chair placed in Cloudchaser’s place. I can’t have the trial stopping just because she keels over.”

Redheart nodded reluctantly while Soarin stepped over and offered Cloudchaser a lift on his back. With Fleur’s assistance, she was soon on board safely and the ponies began filtering into the hallway. Pinkie and Vinyl lagged behind slightly, looking awkwardly at one another.

“Should we bring this up?” Pinkie asked gesturing to the hoof computer now being held by Vinyl’s magic as opposed to her hooves.

“Only if we really have to,” Vinyl said after a pause, “Only.”

Nodding stoically to one another, the pair left the game room, set for the entrance hall and the next trial.

Author's Note

Double the bodies... double the fun... for me at least.
Part 3 should be published on Sunday (but don't quote me on that).
Also I've had to ask a couple people to alter their comments to avoid spoilers. Please just bare in mind the whole point of a mystery story is 'who did what to who' and so on, theories are fine, but when you definitively say who's died etc it defeats the purpose for anyone who hasn't read it yet.
Finally, for anybody wondering, I have had the skeleton of this story planned since the prologue, i.e. who gets killed by who and in what order. So don't think I'm going to change who the culprit is or something just to mess with the people who have already guessed, I assure you I play fair.

C4: Double Jeopardy

Day 13, 15:23

“Hey Pinkie,” Vinyl whispered as the pair caught up with the others in the entrance hall. “When we head down, can you get the Mastermind talking? I just need a little time to check that room before the trial starts.”

“Of course,” Pinkie assured her.

No sooner had she said so than the familiar rumbling began as the stairs began shifting down, coughing up their usual cloud of dust. Wordlessly, Trixie led the way downstairs, followed closely by Fleur, Redheart and Soarin, who still carried Cloudchaser on his back. Pinkie and Vinyl descended together, both their eyes navigating the bare stretch of wall between the foot of the stairs and the door to the courtroom.

“Don’t take too long,” Pinkie said hurriedly, “we don’t want the Mastermind knowing what you’re up to.”

Vinyl nodded just before Pinkie trotted ahead, entering the courtroom where the others were already taking their places, Soarin helping Cloudchaser into an armchair that had been delivered as promised. Looking to the screens Pinkie saw that Braeburn and Gizmo had both now joined the ranks of grey faces with bloody X’s drawn across them.

“Are we all ready to begin?” the Mastermind asked when Cloudchaser was seated and Soarin moved to his own position.

“Not quite,” Pinkie announced, drawing surprised looks. “I don’t know about everypony else here, but I’m not about to start investigating a murder which you helped to rig.”

“You think I partook in this one?” the Mastermind asked, sounding insulted… or at least trying to sound insulted.

“I just want your assurance you haven’t been playing dirty,” Pinkie replied.

“I assure you,” the Mastermind began, “I played no role in this case, after all what fun would there be in that?”

Well at least I had the right idea.

“Because I’m sure Coco’s murder was so dull for you,” Pinkie continued in a bitter tone as Vinyl scurried back into the room.

“You’re right, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a particularly fun case,” the Mastermind admitted. “Now if your friend is done snooping around, maybe we can begin this trial.”

Pinkie froze, her eyes briefly flickering across to Vinyl, who was biting her lip in frustration.

I guess it was too much to expect that to go unnoticed. Hopefully she found something out at least.

Without another word, Pinkie marched forward, taking her position, the runes at her hooves glowing, locking her in.

“Good,” the Mastermind declared, sounding content. “Now, I call this trial to order.”

Trial 4: Braeburn & Gizmo

“My, my,” the Mastermind began slowly. “You have been a busy bunch, not just one but two bodies. I must say, your capacity to kill your fellow ponies is outstanding.”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Cloudchaser muttered.

“Ignore him,” Trixie stated. “Let’s just solve this… er, these murders and get out of here.”

Trixie referred to the Mastermind as a male again, does she still think it’s Orchid?

“Well I still think we should humour the idea that this is nothing more than a stupid accident,” Vinyl offered. “Gizmo killed Braeburn, that we can agree on. But then somepony accidently killed him by lighting up those fires.”

“But Vinyl,” Pinkie began, “don’t you remember what Soarin told us? If Braeburn had the matches when he went to the kitchen, then somepony involved in his murder had to have taken them. I doubt Gizmo would light those fires himself.”

“Maybe he felt guilty,” Vinyl suggested, “or he knew he was going to get caught after basically giving himself away to Cloudchaser, and didn’t want to let the Mastermind kill him in some sick way.”

“That…” Redheart began, “actually sounds quite plausible.”

“See, I’m much more than just a pretty face,” Vinyl said grinning.

“But remember,” Pinkie cut in, “Braeburn was on the table at the time. He wasn’t restrained, so somepony else had to have been involved.”

“Actually, I think I’ve got that one figured out,” Vinyl countered, sounding pleased with herself. “Gizmo knocked Braeburn unconscious before releasing the chandelier. His body was crushed, so we couldn’t examine it, but it would explain how Gizmo got him to stay on the table while he dropped the chandelier.”

Damn, Vinyl’s put a lot of thought into this, and it does sound pretty plausible.

“That’s something that’s been bugging me,” Fleur said thoughtfully. “How did Gizmo release the chandelier at all?”

“Obviously he used the tool box,” Trixie answered.

“No, what I mean is how did he get up that high to unscrew it?” Fleur asked. “You did say it had been unscrewed didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” Trixie confirmed.

“That is a good point,” Soarin chipped in, “I mean he couldn’t have flown or used magic.”

But maybe the other killer could…

“Why don’t we come back to that one,” Pinkie suggested.

“What I want to know is how he got the toolbox to begin with?” Redheart pointed out. “Wasn’t Braeburn keeping it in his room?”

The missing room key, of course!

“That’s right!” Pinkie confirmed, “But yesterday, Soarin and I were passing through the second floor and Braeburn was looking for his lost key. He said he had dropped it, but when I found it lying on the ground, he had said he walked to and from the other direction. Gizmo must have stolen it at some point, retrieved the tool box in preparation, and discarded the key in the hall to make it look like it had just been dropped.”

“Ah, well that’s fairly conclusive,” Redheart said, sounding surprised at receiving a complete answer.

“Well what about the fireplaces,” Fleur pointed out, “it’s oddly convenient there was a passage between those to specifically.”

“Not really,” Cloudchaser said with a shrug, “all the fire places are connected to at least one other, and those rooms are adjoining.”

“What about Gizmo’s hoof computer?” Trixie asked, “Did you find anything useful on it?”

“Uh, nothing relevant in the messages,” Vinyl said hesitantly, not technically lying.

“Ugh,” Soarin groaned, “we’re going around in circles!”

“Let’s take it back to the beginning,” Pinkie suggested, “see if we can piece together what we know so far. So Gizmo had to have stolen Braeburn’s room key at some point, it must have been earlier yesterday, as he would definitely have had it when he came down to breakfast. Using the key he stole the tool box. The next day, Soarin and Braeburn spend time bringing wood in and preparing the fires in the games room and the parlour, after which, Braeburn goes to the dining room and kitchen to clear up after breakfast.

“Whilst there, something occurs, leading to Braeburn lying on the table under the chandelier,” Pinkie continued, “during this, Gizmo drops the chandelier using the tools he stole, killing Braeburn. Gizmo flees from the dining room, instead hiding in the kitchen for whatever reason, until Cloudchaser stumbles upon him. Panicked he attacks her with a carving knife and continues fleeing outside.”

“That reminds me,” Fleur interjected, looking to Soarin, “did you really not find anything outside?”

“No,” he admitted dismayed, “that blood trail didn’t lead any further than the door, there was no way of telling which way he went.”

Pinkie’s ear pricked up at that, a familiar sense of something important bugging her, something she couldn’t place.

“Surely he had to have gone to one of the other two doors,” Trixie stated, “as he most likely went straight to the fire place to dispose of the evidence.”

So when exactly were the fires lit? They were alight when Fleur and Redheart took Cloudchaser to the parlour, which means somepony must have left while we were tending to Cloudchaser to light them.

“I’ve got it!” Soarin declared, wrenching Pinkie from her thoughts. “I think I know how Gizmo brought the chandelier down!”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense,” Redheart said, gesturing for him to carry on.

“Obviously the chandelier was too high in the dining room for an earth pony to unscrew it unaided,” Soarin explained, “but what if he didn’t unscrew it from dining room.”

“What do you…” Vinyl began confused, before being interrupted by Trixie.

“Of course,” she said, sounding annoyed with herself. “He unscrewed it from the floor above.”

“What room’s above the dining room?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Hang on, I’ll check,” Pinkie offered, bringing the map up on her hoof computer.

After a little fiddling about, she was able to jump freely between the first and second floors while remaining in the same geographical area. On the first floor was the dining room, and on the second floor directly above that was a bedroom.

“It’s one of the bedrooms,” Pinkie informed them.

“Gizmo’s no doubt,” Fleur stated.

“Actually it’s not,” Pinkie jumped in. “Vinyl and I went to Gizmo’s room earlier during our search, while there I looked at my map to see if it showed him inside. That was a bust, but I do remember that Gizmo’s room had two other rooms on either side of it. This room above the dining room is at the end of the house, and thus only has one.”

“Then whose room is it?” Redheart asked, “And how did Gizmo get inside?”

“Trixie believes this attests to the possibility of Gizmo working with a partner,” Trixie declared, “one who gave him access to their own room due to its convenient position, and who was able to inform him that Braeburn was in position, as from the floor above, he would have no way of knowing.”

“It could belong to one of the deceased,” Fleur proposed, “whatever happened to their room keys?”

The room fell silent as Fleur’s question registered with them. They had no idea what became of the keys, or even more importantly, the bodies.

“Don’t worry,” the Mastermind interjected, “your friends are quite safe. In fact, once this trial is over I’ll let you visit them.”

Why does that prospect not fill me with joy?

“Um, that aside,” Soarin began awkwardly, “how did this partner even signal Gizmo? We already established there were no messages, maybe there’s something else in his computer we haven’t see…”

“Alright!” Vinyl shouted, throwing her hooves in the air, “I admit it, he was getting off to pictures of Cloudchaser, Fleur and me! Now you know, are you happy?! I swear to Celestia if admitting that doesn’t hold the key to this mystery I’m going to throw myself off the roof!”

The entire courtroom fell deathly silent, everypony looking at Vinyl with wide, shocked stares.

“I… don’t see what difference that makes,” Redheart whispered, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Yeah, me neither,” Soarin mumbled, “probably should have kept that to yourself.”

Pinkie could almost see Vinyl’s eye twitching behind her glasses.

“Hey now,” Pinkie jumped in, sounding falsely cheery, hoping to put a positive spin on this before Vinyl had an aneurysm. “We don’t know that this isn’t important. For all we know... somepony found about this. Yeah! Then they used it as lev…”

Pinkie stopped talking, the single word ‘leverage’ poised on her tongue.

Leverage! Somepony found out about Gizmo’s habit and used it to pull him along on strings.

“I think… Gizmo was being manipulated,” Pinkie announced at last. “Somepony used this as a way of controlling him. They probably masterminded the whole thing, no pun intended, with the intention of killing off Gizmo and making us believe it was a simple accident.”

“Not that we believed that for very long,” Soarin pointed out.

“And let’s not forget the one who started this trial by harping on that it was an accident,” Cloudchaser said narrowing her eyes, looking to her immediate left. “Vinyl!”

“Seriously?” Vinyl said in disbelief, “why the heck would I tell everypony about what Gizmo got up to if I was the killer? And one of the victims no less.”

“It can’t be Vinyl,” Pinkie cut in before Cloudchaser could argue any further. “She, Trixie and I were all together when the murder occurred.”

“Which means the rest of you are unaccounted for,” Trixie pointed out, looking across the assembled ponies.

“Well I saw Redheart shortly before the announcement was made,” Cloudchaser reminded them.

“Yeah and I was talking to Fleur not long before I heard the crash and came running,” Soarin explained.

“But then everypony is accounted for right before the murder,” Fleur said disappointed.

No, not everypony. Redheart and Cloudchaser saw one another before the announcement, but not before the murder which took place a few minutes earlier.

“Well Vinyl,” Soarin said, sounding slightly more upbeat, “I guess that revelation wasn’t for nothing after all. It’s a good thing the computer hadn’t been damaged by smoke or blood.”

“Actually it was just soot,” Vinyl corrected him; “there was no blood on it.”

Actually it was just soot; there was no blood on it.

There was no blood on it.

No blood.

That’s it! That’s what’s been bugging me.

“Redheart,” Pinkie began slowly, Redheart looked up politely. “You said when you arrived on the scene, that you had been passing by the parlour before you heard the announcement. Did you happen to notice if the fire was lit then?”

“Huh? Oh, well I’m not sure,” Redheart admitted, pondering for a moment before brightening up. “Oh yes, they definitely were because I remember seeing them and wondering if we’d be having any more hot chocolate tonight. Why?”

“Because I now know who the murderer is,” Pinkie answered, causing everypony to focus their undivided attention on her. “Because their story doesn’t add up, isn’t that right…

“Cloudchaser!”

“Wait, what?!” Cloudchaser exclaimed from her seat. “Me?!”

“Yeah Pinkie, are you sure?” Soarin asked doubtfully. “She’s the one Gizmo attacked.”

“No, he didn’t,” Pinkie replied sadly, “because Redheart just told us, the fires were already lit before she arrived on the scene. Gizmo was already dead, before Cloudchaser claimed to have been attacked by him.”

“But… Gizmo attacked me!” Cloudchaser insisted, “Are you suggesting that I did this to myself? That I crippled myself?!”

“Yes,” Pinkie answered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “And I know you had the strength to go through with it.”

Cloudchaser just stared at Pinkie, blinking rapidly, trying to suppress the wetness appearing in them.

“The way you spoke yesterday about your sister,” Pinkie continued, “I knew you’d do anything to see her again, it didn’t matter what it cost you or anyone else here. It’s not because you’re a bad pony, you just cared too much about her.”

“I… I didn’t,” Cloudchaser murmured weakly, “you can’t prove I did.”

“The trail of blood in the kitchen led only to you,” Pinkie pointed out, “that amount of blood in the time it took us to run to the kitchen, Gizmo would have to have been covered in it, but he didn’t have a speck on him.”

Cloudchaser didn’t answer, didn’t argue, didn’t defend herself, just stared back at Pinkie as tears welled up in her eyes. Pinkie had no need to continue, her guilt was assured, but she needed to clarify everything.

“It’s your room above the dining room isn’t it?” Pinkie asked. Cloudchaser gave a nod so small it could have been imagined. “And the message you sent Gizmo about ‘hitting the games room’ right before the murder was the signal for him to drop the chandelier. Naturally you had Braeburn on the table, probably offered him a massage since he'd been feeling stressed out."

At least I sincerely hope that was the reason.

Pinkie’s voice was becoming hoarse, she didn’t want to continue, she just wanted this to be over.

“You stole Braeburn’s room key when you hugged him at breakfast yesterday,” Pinkie continued weakly, “you had your hooves inside his jacket. He doesn’t wear saddlebags so that was no doubt where he kept it. You were also the one who asked Soarin and Braeburn to prepare those two fires specifically.”

Pinkie stopped talking, looking briefly at the others. Vinyl’s glasses did a good job of hiding her emotions, but her sagging body gave them away. Soarin and Fleur looked thoroughly downtrodden, while Redheart clutched her head in her hooves, her shoulders occasionally trembling. Only Trixie maintained a perfect expression of apathy, looking pointedly between Pinkie and Cloudchaser.

“Yeah,” Cloudchaser said quietly after a long period of silence. “I guess you got me.”

“Why didn’t you wait?” Vinyl asked, her voice sounding heavy. “We would have got you out of here.”

“I wanted to believe that,” Cloudchaser whispered. “But so many had died already, and it felt like we were getting nowhere. But now it doesn’t matter, you caught me out, and now I never will see Flitter again.”

Tears were now streaming down Cloudchaser’s face. Pinkie clenched her eyes shut, trying desperately not to join in.

I can’t do this! This isn’t right!

“No!” Redheart screamed, looking up, revealing her own tear soaked face. “I won’t vote to have anypony else killed.”

“You have to!” Cloudchaser shouted back. “If you don’t, he’ll just kill you too. Don’t make the same mistake I did, don’t give up! You can still get out of here alive.”

Redheart pounded the bench in front of her in fury, Pinkie felt close to doing the same.

“Just promise me one thing,” Cloudchaser added, sounding hopeless. “If… no, when you get back to Ponyville, please, look after Flitter.”

Redheart nodded, swallowing hard.

“How touching,” the Mastermind said, sounding euphoric at all the misery in the room. “Shame it can’t last forever. I think by now you all know what it’s time for.”

Pinkie saw the dial in front of her begin to glow as she stared down at the bench. Reaching out with a limp hoof, Pinkie turned the dial at an agonisingly slow pace to Cloudchaser. Cloudchaser’s face began to appear on each screen, in some cases following a painfully long wait. Eventually all screens not baring a face of one of the deceased ponies showed Cloudchaser.

Once again the screens went blank and the ‘GUILTY’ screen appeared opposite Pinkie, beginning its rotation around the room. Nopony bothered to pay attention as it began slowing down, stopping behind Cloudchaser to nopony’s surprise, playing its loud celebratory fanfare, even though nopony felt like celebrating this victory.

“Yes, Cloudchaser is indeed the culprit,” the Mastermind announced once the din had did down. “I guess this leaves just one thing to be said. Cloudchaser, you have been found guilty of the murders of Braeburn and Gizmo. You’re going down!”

Pinkie glanced up, just to see the chair and floor vanish beneath Cloudchaser, leaving her to plunge down into the old mine bellow.

After a few torturous minutes, Pinkie heard the screens flick back on, and looked up, dreading what she was about to see.

Every screen around the room displayed the same image, one of Cloudchaser strapped to a similar table as Blueblood. The main difference being that Cloudchaser’s hind legs were spread apart, her tail pinned down, giving a clear view of her genitals. Pinkie cringed, a dark thought as to what was about to happen creeping into her mind.

This was immediately confirmed when the image moved to show a long, nauseatingly sharp and serrated spike positioned with the tip pointing inwards. This was all Pinkie needed to see, so that when the spike, drill thing began moving in, alternating between spinning and sawing, she looking down at her hooves trembling as the buzzing noise persisted. It wasn’t until the screams began that she really became focused on not looking up, barely aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

No more… No more!

Author's Note

Are you familiar with Occam's Razor?
Yes, sometimes the simplest solution is in fact the correct one.
Now congratulations are in order. Firstly, Smoker correctly guessed the culprit, realising Cloudchaser's wound must have been self inflicted. Next, Chloewhatwatt and Procrastinating Sidewalk also correctly guessed the culprit. Finally ClickClackTheBrony also guessed the culprit, as well as figuring out most of the method used.
Also I'd like to give a special shout out to Doppler Effect, despite not being correct in their final accusation, I was incredibly impressed by their own theory behind this murder, I'm almost envious I hadn't thought of it first.
I was very disappointed with how short the last two parts have been (for goodness sake these AN are almost as long), but I just couldn't flesh this chapter out much without over-padding it with obvious filler. However I can promise you all that the next (and final) chapter will not suffer from this problem.

C5: The Eleventh Hour

Day 14, 08:26

Pinkie Pie felt as if she had been walking for hours, the gravel crunching under her hooves as she mapped the now familiar route around the manor.

And then there were six… Vinyl… Fleur… Soarin… Redheart… Trixie… and myself.

Pinkie thought back to Lightning Dust’s final words, ‘I know if anypony can beat this creep and get everypony out of here, it’s you’. It felt like forever since Pinkie had heard those words when in reality it was only a week ago.

Everypony keeps looking to me, like I’m something special, like I can be the one to save them…

Pinkie stopped dead in her tracks, craning her neck back and staring up at the mass of swirling colours masking the sky. Pinkie screwed up her eyes and yelled up at the heavens.

“I don’t know what to do!” she shouted before calming down, her voice faltering. “What would you do Twilight?”

The whistling of the light breeze was all the answer Pinkie received.

Well what did I expect?

“Everypony is relying on me,” Pinkie continued to her empty surroundings, finding that voicing her feelings aloud was quite therapeutic. “But I don’t know how to help them. We’ve been here two weeks, and nine ponies are dead. It feels like I’m running in circles, that no matter what I discover I’m no closer to figuring this all out.”

Pinkie received nothing but silence once more. Sighing, she continued her walk.

If Twilight were here she could have solved this mystery by now and everypony would be home. Instead they got me, and whoever’s not dead yet either will be soon or can look forward to spending the rest of their lives in this prison.

Pinkie vaguely registered the main door passing by her peripheral vision, as she continued waking around the east side of the manor.

Missing ponies, skeletons in trunks, white feathers and… ugh! It feels like the answers are right in front of me! Like I have the pieces but they’re not fitting together.

Crunch, crunch, crunch beneath her hooves as she continued walking.

Maybe it’s time to just give up, cut our losses while we can and accept our new lives.

Did you just say give up?!

Well what else am I supposed to do?! I’m just one pony, and not even a very special one at that. I’m not smart like Twilight. I’m not fast like Rainbow Dash. I’m not strong like Applejack. I’m not creative like Rarity. I’m not thoughtful like Fluttershy.

You can’t always compare yourself to others; nopony is the best at everything. But you have things that they don’t.

Like what?

Experience. Look at the things you’ve seen and done in just two weeks. Who solved all those murders? You did! We learn from our experiences, so what has your experiences taught you?

I… I don’t know.

Well think about it, you might be surprised what you can do when you understand yourself a little better.

But…

“Pinkie?” A voice said, pulling Pinkie from her thoughts, back to the real world where she had walked all the way around the house to the kitchen door where Vinyl stood at, giving her a worried look. “What are you doing?”

“Just walking and thinking,” Pinkie stated glumly, before her words fully registered in her own mind and her eyes widened.

Hang on! Who was that?!

“Pinkie, are you okay?” Vinyl asked, now sounding thoroughly concerned.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” Pinkie replied hesitantly, still thinking about the ‘conversation’ she had just had. Vinyl sighed.

“Pinkie, you’ve been walking around out here for a while now,” Vinyl said gloomily. “I think you should come in, we all need to talk.”

“Alright,” Pinkie said in a non-committal tone, shuffling after Vinyl back into the kitchen.

Pinkie was still so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed the water on the kitchen floor until she was falling face first onto the tile floor. Clenching her eyes shut, she braced for the impact that never came. Peeking through her eyelid she saw herself being held in a blue aura.

“Yeah,” Vinyl said, laughing a little. “The floor is wet.”

Propping Pinkie back up, she saw the entire floor was covered in a sheet of water, a mop and bucket leaning against one of the counters.

“Did somepony clean up?” Pinkie asked redundantly.

“Actually no,” Vinyl stated, causing Pinkie to raise a questioning eyebrow. “I asked, and none of us did it.”

“So who…” Pinkie began before Vinyl cut back in.

“We actually have an idea about that,” Vinyl said cryptically, leading the way out of the kitchen into the hall way.

The pair walked towards the dining room doors in silence, Pinkie could hear faint murmuring coming from within. As they entered, Pinkie saw the other four standing at the far end of the room, under the Mastermind’s screen, a tray of sandwiches between them.

“Good morning Pinkie,” Fleur said in a calm tone.

“Morning,” Pinkie returned in an unenthusiastic voice.

“Well now that pleasantries have been taken care of…” Trixie began curtly.

Pleasantries?

“We can begin discussing how we are going to get out here,” Trixie finished. Pinkie glanced at her sceptically.

“You make that sound like it’s a certainty,” Pinkie muttered. Redheart and Soarin looked at her worriedly, but Trixie carried on as if she’d said nothing.

“Obviously we can’t afford any more deaths,” Trixie stated plainly. “Which is why we need to get this figured out as quickly as possible.”

“And I’m here to help with that,” Vinyl declared, sounding a little more upbeat. Pinkie looked over at her in surprise. “You all remember that underground room?”

Huh… Oh yeah!

In the aftermath of yesterday’s trial, Pinkie had completely forgotten about Vinyl’s investigation into the hidden room.

“Well I have good news,” she stated, everypony leaning in eagerly. “The room is in fact still there, and the door just has an illusion spell on it to make it look like the rest of the wall.”

“So we can get in?” Soarin asked hopefully.

“If I can get past those stairs then I think I have a decent chance of cracking it open,” Vinyl boasted, smirking at the group.

“Well you have fun with that,” a loud voice said from above them, causing them all to jump in surprise as the screen came to life, displaying the usual grey. “But hey, while you’re wasting your time, I have a present for you all.”

The ponies all glanced warily at each other.

“Oh don’t be like that,” the Mastermind said, “You’ll like this, I promise. If you recall yesterday’s trial, I mentioned that I would let you visit your friends. Well I’ve decided to stay true to my word, so if any of you begin to feel the pangs of loneliness, head on over to the swimming pool.”

With that enigmatic statement, the screen switched off, leaving a perplexed group of ponies standing beneath it.

“The swimming pool,” Pinkie repeated, thinking back. “That was where one of the underground accesses was.”

“Yeah, I thought you said it wasn’t there anymore,” Vinyl directed at Trixie.

“Trixie said it probably wasn’t there anymore, as they would have had to renovate any lower rooms to accommodate the pool,” Trixie corrected irritably.

“So…” Redheart began, breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed. “Should we go take a look?”

“I suppose we might as well,” Fleur responded. “The Mastermind is obviously up to something, we might as well try to figure it out before they implement it.”

Silently agreeing, the ponies began filing from the dining room, Pinkie dawdling at the rear.

Hello, is there anyone there?

The only thoughts in Pinkie’s skull were her own. Had she imagined the whole thing?

“The things I could do… when I understand myself…” Pinkie whispered to herself, before following after the others.

Day 14, 09:30

“Trixie did say probably,” Trixie reminded them as the ponies all looked into the bone dry swimming pool, within which the centre tiles had descended in similar fashion to the stairs in the entrance hall. “She has been wrong before.”

“Yeah, well next time let’s not assume,” Vinyl suggested, hoping down into the empty pool.

Trixie muttered something under her breath as she followed, Redheart and Fleur lowering themselves down gently while Soarin fluttered down. Pinkie jumped in easily and began walking with the others to the newly formed staircase.

“Are we sure going down there is a good idea?” Soarin asked tentatively.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Vinyl replied, earning a bemused look from Soarin.

“What’s the worst that could happen in a house where nine ponies have died in two weeks?” Soarin repeated.

“Yeah well, as long as we don’t kill each other we’ll be fine,” Vinyl said, marching down the steps.

Pinkie followed behind Vinyl, catching up so the pair walked down side by side. While the staircase wasn’t overly long, it was still roughly three times deeper than the courtroom. As they trotted down the steps, Pinkie began to notice a distinct chill in the air, her breath began to frost in front of her. She didn’t seem to be the only one as Fleur’s teeth began chattering by the time they reached the bottom, and she seemed to be shivering profusely.

Well what do you expect when you’re that thin?

The short corridor they found themselves in now was lit by a pale blue, electric tube light, making a faint humming sound. The doors in front of them were unlike any others they had encountered in the mansion. As opposed to the usual decoratively carved wood, they were instead faced with a clunky metal door, with a large valve in place of a handle. Approaching the metal, Pinkie touched it with her hoof, pulling it back almost instantly with a hiss.

“What’s the matter Pinkie?” Vinyl asked in a panicked voice.

“It’s so cold,” Pinkie replied, breathing on her hoof to warm it up. “It’s like ice.”

“Let me get it then,” Vinyl offered, reaching out with her magic and gripping the valve handle.

Pinkie watched, expecting to see it turn easily, instead she heard it screeching loudly while Vinyl gritted her teeth and groaned like she was trying to carry a massive weight.

“Little help here!” she demanded of the other two unicorns, no attempt to hide the frustration she was clearly feeling.

Once the other two joined in, the valve began shifting a lot more noticeably. After a few seconds it seemed to loosen up and begin rotating much more smoothly, as it did the giant door began creaking open, clouds of frozen air rising from the newly made gap. After another minute or so, the door stood completely open, and the clouds had mostly dissipated, leaving the new room relatively unobscured.

“You know what,” Fleur began through her chattering teeth. “I think I’ll wait upstairs, I don’t think I’d survive in there.”

“Eat the rest of those sandwiches while you’re at it,” Vinyl joked, Fleur just grimaced before turning and hurrying back up the stairs.

Pinkie led the way into the room, bracing herself against the cold that hit her. It really was like they had just stepped into a freezer. The room was relatively large, with a white tiled floor and a large metal table positioned in the centre of the room. The walls were made of metal, with dozens of square doors along them, each one with a handle and some with a small label on them. The whole room as well as everything inside it was covered in a thin layer of ice.

Pinkie followed Redheart to the table in the centre of the room, while the others fanned out around the wall. Now that she was closer, Pinkie saw that a series of metal surgical tools were laid out on top of it, all frozen.

“It’s an operating table,” Redheart explained as Pinkie looked over it curiously.

“And the tools?” Pinkie asked.

“Clamps, scalpels, retractors, bone saw, and surgical staples,” Redheart listed. Pinkie opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Soarin calling out.

“Girls,” he said, in a wavering tone. “You might want to come look at this.”

Curious, Pinkie walked over to one of the square doors Soarin was standing beside, Redheart following behind and Vinyl and Trixie walking over from their own respective areas. Reaching Soarin, Pinkie looked at the doors, seeing it was one of the few ones with a label attached. Looking at the label, Pinkie could see the printed words, ‘Twilight Sparkle’.

“Twilight…” Pinkie read in disbelief, looking over to the others, they all looked equally confused.

Nudging past Soarin, Pinkie reached out for the handle. This time she was ready for the cold, and while it still stung her hoof, she ignored it. It turned out the doors were actually drawers, and as Pinkie pulled, a long metal shelf emerged, a black zip up bag occupying it. Pinkie stood frozen, staring at the body bag, unable to look away or close the drawer, and unable to reach forward and open the bag up.

“Do you want me to check?” Vinyl asked softly. Pinkie didn’t respond, just back away slowly. Vinyl stepped up, leaning over the bag so Pinkie wouldn’t see. A loud zip was heard followed by Vinyl’s breath catching in her throat, before she re-zipped the bag and stepped away. “At least… her family will have something to bury… when we get out of here.”

“You mean…” Pinkie began, Vinyl nodded.

What had Pinkie expected, she knew Twilight had died, but somehow knowing her body was here, locked up in a morgue, made it feel all the more real, as opposed to part of some stupid game.

Pinkie wandered away from Twilight’s drawer, navigating to the next one she saw with a label. For the next few minutes they went around as a group, opening the labelled drawers and examining the bodies. Trenderhoof with his caved in skull, the charred remains of Coco Pommel, the splattered remnants of Braeburn, the relatively unblemished Gizmo, and Cloudchaser. They all agreed not to open the bag beyond her face for unspoken but obvious reasons.

Obviously some bodies were absent, Doughnut Joe, Lightning Dust and Prince Blueblood. Pinkie wondered what had become of what little there was left of them. Once the final drawer was closed, the five ponies stood in silence, none of them noticing the cold anymore. They probably would have stayed there for hours if not for Soarin finally breaking the silence.

“We should go,” he suggested.

“Agreed,” Trixie said, making for the open door first. “There’s nothing but despair here.”

They all left the room one by one, but as Vinyl was about to leave, she looked back and saw Pinkie still hadn’t moved.

“Pinkie?” she said, but Pinkie wasn’t listening, she was staring at the drawer on the other side of the room.

“I have to see her,” Pinkie whispered, making for the one drawer she couldn’t face.

“Pinkie, it won’t do any good,” Vinyl tried to say, but Pinkie wasn’t listening. “It’ll only make you more miserable.”

Pinkie reached the drawer labelled ‘Twilight Sparkle’ and bracing herself, opened it. Vinyl waited beside the door, looking on forlornly as the black body bag was once again revealed.

Pinkie stared down at the bag, her heart thumping in her chest. It was so easy, just reach out and pull the zip down… so why was Pinkie finding it so hard to move her hooves?

There’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s just a bag… containing my dead friend.

Mentally slapping the thought from her mind, Pinkie bit the bullet and reached out, unzipping the bag before she could stop herself.

Twilight looked so peaceful lying there, her frosty form resembling that of a filly sleeping peacefully. Pinkie smiled despite herself.

I hope you’re happy wherever you are Twilight.

Pinkie was still smiling as she continued unzipping, only vaguely aware she was even doing so. It wasn’t until something odd caught her eye, that she dragged herself back to reality. A small, perfectly cut gem rested on Twilight’s chest, glowing with a soft green light. Pinkie reached out and picked it up, turning around to show Vinyl it.

“Is that…” Vinyl began, sounding both confused an astonished, “a power crystal?”

“A power crystal?” Pinkie repeated, she had no idea.

“Yeah, like the one used to power the screen in the dining room,” Vinyl explained, walking over to examine it more closely. “Except this one is green.”

“Why does that matter?” Pinkie asked, nonplussed.

“Well the crystal in the screen is yellow,” Vinyl explained, “it’s used for live feeds. But green power crystals are for displaying pre-recorded things.”

“So if we put this in the screen in the dining room,” Pinkie began, trying to wrap her head around what Vinyl was saying, “it will show us a film or something?”

“A recording of something, yeah,” Vinyl confirmed. “Where did you even find that?”

“It was on Twilight’s chest,” Pinkie explained.

“Ah, I only looked at her face,” Vinyl stated. “We should go upstairs and play this now.”

“Can you?” Pinkie asked as the pair began walking out.

“Of course I can,” Vinyl assured her, “easy peasy!”

Day 14, 10:43

“What will we do with them now?” Redheart asked as her and Pinkie placed the last of the bones back in the trunk.

“Well…” Pinkie began unsure, “it can stay here for now, at least until we have a better idea of who it belongs to.”

Nodding, Redheart stepped back as Pinkie dragged the trunk over to the side of the gym so it wouldn’t be in the way. As she did, Pinkie once again found herself admiring the sophistication of the trunk; it looked like the kind of thing Rarity dragged back from Canterlot saying it was a designer brand and worth every bit she spent on it. Once she had it pressed up against the wall she stood up dusting herself down, turning to face Redheart.

“We should go back now,” she said, “see if Vinyl’s got that crystal working yet.”

“Sure,” Redheart agreed, allowing Pinkie to lead the way out of the gym.

They walked in utter silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the clopping of their hooves. Redheart eventually broke it.

“Why do you think the Mastermind wanted us to go into that morgue?” she asked. Pinkie thought about it briefly.

“Well at a guess I’d say it was to demoralise us,” she began.

It certainly did that.

“Although I think there might be something more to it,” she continued, “but we won’t know for sure until we see what’s on that crystal.”

“You think the Mastermind wanted us t… er, you to find it?” Redheart asked, tripping up slightly in the middle.

“I’m almost certain they did,” Pinkie replied, trying to sound determined.

“You said ‘they’,” Redheart pointed out.

“Huh?”

“You referred to the Mastermind as they,” Redheart explained, “Trixie always refers to it as a male, I take it you don’t believe her theory that it’s Orchid.”

“I haven’t ruled it out,” Pinkie clarified, “but what about you? You said ‘it’.”

Redheart just shrugged. “I guess I just have a hard time believing any pony could be capable of this.”

I’d like to believe that too.

They finished their journey in silence, arriving at the dining room just in time to see Vinyl levitating the screen back onto the wall.

“Hey, you’re back,” Vinyl announced, hearing them enter. “You’re just in time.”

“You got it working?” Pinkie asked hopefully.

“Well it’s in there,” Vinyl confirmed, “It just needs a little magic to get it goin’.”

With that said, Vinyl’s horn began glowing, and the screen came to life. Pinkie had to admit she was a little thrown at seeing something other than a staticy mess on this screen, but what she was seeing was even more surprising.

The screen was displaying, in full colour no less, a perfect view of the main gate into the manor grounds, and standing outside it, laughing hysterically, were Pinkie and Twilight. Everypony looked over at Pinkie in confusion, but her eyes were glued to the screen as the pair stopped laughing and Twilight’s mouth began moving. There was no sound, but Pinkie still remembered with perfect clarity what Twilight had said to her.

Never change Pinkie.

Pinkie felt herself well up slightly, looking back at herself over the last two weeks, and hardly being able to recognise herself.

Sorry Twilight, you asked one thing from me and I couldn’t even manage that.

The pair on the screen then stepped through the gates, and began collapsing, quickly becoming unconscious heaps on the gravel drive. The screen then flickered and Twilight and Pinkie disappeared, instead they all saw Vinyl standing outside the gates looking in. Vinyl was looking down to her letter and back up again repeatedly as if clarifying she was at the right place. Eventually she seemed to accept it and stuffed away, opening the gates and stepping forward.

Pinkie watched as Vinyl too collapsed before the screen flickered to show Trixie standing outside the gate in the hat and cape she hadn’t worn since the first day. This kept up, showing each and every pony that had been there, living or dead, entering the gate and falling unconscious. Gizmo, Lightning Dust, Trenderhoof, Coco, and…

“Wait, hold it there!” Pinkie shouted as the screen flickered from Coco’s body slumped in the gravel to a white Pegasus standing outside the gate.

Vinyl had seen it two, and with a flash of her horn the image froze just as the Pegasus was stepping through the gate. The room was silent as all six ponies stared at the figure on the screen.

“Who… is that?” Fleur asked slowly.

Pinkie stared at the powder white Pegasus, with her cerise and green striped mane.

I know her…

“Blossomforth?” Pinkie said in utter disbelief.

“Who?” Trixie asked, sounding just as confused.

“She’s a Pegasus from Ponyville,” Pinkie explained.

“And you knew her?” Soarin asked.

“Pinkie knew everypony,” Redheart stated.

“Yeah I knew her,” Pinkie repeated, “not well mind you. I think she worked on the weather patrol with Rainbow Dash.”

“Is it just me, or do her feathers look awfully familiar?” Fleur asked.

Pinkie had figured that too; powder white feathers, now they knew who they belonged to.

The sixteenth pony is Blossomforth!

Day 14, 12:16

Pinkie leaned on the balcony in the entrance hall, quietly observing as Vinyl and Trixie debated how they would get through the stairs.

“I’m telling you, it’s fool proof,” Vinyl said, trying to assure Trixie.

“Clearly not if you are suggesting it!” Trixie retorted.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Vinyl asked in a deadpan voice.

“Where do I begin?” Trixie asked rhetorically. “Considering you got a jolt just from kicking a door, what do you think will happen if you take a conjured pneumatic drill to the secret underground entrance?”

Yeah I’m not going to miss much if I slip away and check on the others.

Pinkie stepped back from the banister and began walking away, the pair’s shouting fading into the distance as she rounded a corner and began heading for the stairs to the second floor. It felt weird as silence descended upon Pinkie and she reminded herself that there were six ponies inside this entire mansion.

No, not six… seven, can’t forget the Mastermind, where ever they are.

As Pinkie climbed the stairs, she found her mind stirring up the memories of that morning, and the foreign thoughts in her head as she had walked outside.

What have I learned from my experiences? Well first there was Twilight’s murder; I remember the tipping point in that case was the shirt Coco found, I could never have proven Doughnut Joe had mixed that poison otherwise. I guess what I learnt from that is despite how unrelated things may seem, there can be hidden connections, I just have to look for them.

Pinkie smiled as she reached the empty archway, the door that had occupied it still leaning against the wall outside after Braeburn had unscrewed the hinges. Walking straight in Pinkie was surprised to find the sixteenth bedroom looking fairly neat and tidy, the dresser standing up with all its drawers in. The remains of the bedside table had been gathered up and left in a pile beside the door along with the boards that had been nailed across the window. Finally the mattress had been stripped of all its covers which were nowhere to be seen, only Braeburn’s tool box now sitting on the bed.

“When you said you were going to strip this place down, I didn’t think you meant literally,” Pinkie commented, walking over to Fleur who stood peering out the window.

“It was a by-product of our investigation,” she replied, turning to face Pinkie. “I assure you, being the Mastermind’s maid wasn’t my intention.”

“So did you find anything?” Pinkie asked.

“Not a thing,” Soarin answered from behind Pinkie. She turned to see him walk out of the bathroom wiping his hooves on a towel. “Those feathers were literally the only evidence Blossomforth was ever here.”

“Although it is obvious from what we were able to gather, that this room has been unoccupied for several days at least,” Fleur added.

“Where’s Redheart?” Pinkie asked, noticing she didn’t follow Soarin out of the bathroom.

“She left a while ago,” Soarin said, “something about the labs.”

“She’s probably taking inventory,” Fleur proposed, “speaking of which, I’m going down to the kitchen now to do the same.”

“Um, do you girls need me to do anything else?” Soarin asked unsure, “If you didn’t, I was going to head over to the gym for a bit.”

“That’s alright, if we need anything we’ll send you a message,” Fleur said as she left the room, heading in the direction Pinkie had come from.

“Great,” Soarin said looking over to Pinkie, sounding relieved, “I don’t know about you but I could really use some stress relief.”

“Well it wouldn’t go a miss for me either,” Pinkie replied, “but I don’t think now is the best time for throwing a party.”

“No I guess not,” Soarin admitted walking towards the bedroom door. “We’ll have plenty of time for that once we get out of here.”

With that, he left, leaving Pinkie alone in the empty bedroom. Pinkie walked across to the window, not for the first time she found herself wishing these windows could be opened. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

Can I turn on the air conditioning in other rooms?

Bringing up her hoof computer and searching for the ‘room settings’ screen. To her surprise and elation she quickly found the desired screen. Scrolling through the usual options she hovered her hoof over ‘air conditioning’, before giving it a small tap and bringing up the metre. Pinkie began to move the slider up, but to her confusion, there was no familiar rush of cool air, instead she heard a violent rattling noise coming from the floor opposite the bed.

Turning the air conditioning off, Pinkie approached the source of the noise. It was a section of the skirting board which Pinkie knew barely covered the air vents. Giving the board a tentative knock, she found it shook loosely. Giving it a slightly harder tug she was disappointed when it wiggled but remained attached to the wall. However a light bulb went off over here head as she remembered the tool box still sitting on the bed.

Opening the box up, Pinkie began shifting through the various tools, trying to find one that suited her need. In the end she settled for a chisel, and returning to the wall, she angled the tool into the gap between the wall and the board, and began prising them apart.

She was swiftly rewarded when the skirting board snapped clean off the wall, revealing the metal air vent running behind it. Peering into the vent Pinkie could make out a number of shiny objects lodged inside. Retreating to the tool box, Pinkie retrieved a pair of tin snips, easily the largest tool in the box. Bringing them back she set to work cutting the grill of the vent off. Once that was done, she dropped the tin snips and reached into the newly opened space, fishing out the six small objects.

As Pinkie pulled them out one by one, she dropped them onto the floor where she now examined them. They appeared to be tiny golden cylinders, with one end tapered into a sharp point. Picking one up she found it to be very smooth as well as incredibly bitter upon giving it an experimentory lick.

I’ve never seen anything like these before; I wonder if the others know what they are…

Scooping them up, Pinkie deposited them into her saddlebag, in the same small compartment with the master key. Standing up, Pinkie walked out of the room, making for the stairs.

Day 14, 12:51

“Where did you say you found these again?” Vinyl asked, examining Pinkie’s discovery very closely.

“They were stuck inside the air vent in the sixteenth room,” Pinkie repeated. “Do you know what they are?”

“Me? No,” Vinyl answered, causing Pinkie to groan. “But Trixie should be back soon, if you leave them with me I can show her them.”

“Sure,” Pinkie agreed, handing over the other five, which Vinyl stored in her own bag.

With that, Pinkie left Vinyl to her examination of the stairs, and returned back the way she came, hoping she could put together a snack while she checked in on Fleur. It was only now occurring to her she hadn’t eaten anything all day, and her stomach wasn’t too happy about it. Arriving at the kitchen, Pinkie found Fleur checking the final tick on a list before nodded with satisfaction.

“Everything accounted for?” Pinkie asked.

“Yes,” Fleur replied. “Would you like some tea? I have the kettle on.”

“Actually I was going to get something to eat,” Pinkie explained, opening the fridge, finding it fully restocked. As she began preparing a sandwich, Pinkie remembered her discovery. “Oh yeah, I found something in Blossomforth’s room after you left.”

“You did?” Fleur asked surprised, “Where?”

“Lodged in the air vent,” Pinkie explained. “There were six little gold things.”

“Gold things?” Fleur repeated, sounding confused.

“I’d never seen anything like them before,” Pinkie continued. “I showed them to Vinyl and she hadn’t either. She’s holding on to them to show to Trixie.”

“Show me what?” Pinkie and Fleur both turned to see Trixie standing in the kitchen door, apparently having just come in from the grounds.

“I found something in the sixteenth room, Vinyl said she would show you once you got back,” Pinkie repeated. “Where were you?”

“Trixie had taken a quick trip over to the crypt,” Trixie explained, walking cross the kitchen. “I had an idea about how to get through the stairs and needed to confirm something.”

“Alright, well let us know if you get anywhere,” Fleur requested, Trixie just nodded as she left the kitchen.

Pinkie carried on making her sandwich while Fleur poured her tea.

Tea and sandwiches, you’d think we were taking this lightly.

“I think I’m going to head up to the library with this,” Fleur announced, stirring her tea. “Would you like to come?”

“Sure,” Pinkie replied, wolfing down her sandwich.

Day 14, 14:26

Pinkie slammed another book shut, leaning back in her chair and sighing in exasperation.

Well that was a bust, but I suppose if Trixie couldn’t find anything useful in these books, why would I?

Looking across the library, Pinkie saw Fleur engrossed in her own book. Looking back at her own pile, Pinkie internally groaned at the height of it. She had never been one for long reading sessions.

That certainly hasn’t changed over these two weeks; my experiences didn’t teach me that.

With that thought in mind, Pinkie cast her thoughts back to what she had been thinking as she went to the sixteenth room.

The second one was Trenderhoof, Soarin had looked pretty guilty, even I nearly believed he was responsible. But I didn’t just accept that, despite how things looked I still gave him the benefit of the doubt, and it paid off, Soarin was innocent. I guess I relearnt what Twilight had taught me, I can’t assume somepony is guilty until I have all the facts.

Accepting she wasn’t going to get anywhere with these books, Pinkie stood up and began walking to the library door. As she passed Fleur she managed to spot the title of the book she was reading.

Advanced Chess Playing… and there I thought she was doing work.

Ignoring this, Pinkie left the library and instead headed towards the lab to see if Redheart was still there. Once she got to the lab however, she found it deserted; Redheart must have finished taking stock and headed downstairs. Pinkie walked in anyway; having nothing else to do at that point she decided she might as well have a look around.

As she weaved in and out of the aisles and shelves, she half expected to find something out of the ordinary, two of the murders had involved chemicals taken from this very room after all. To her surprise but not disappointment, nothing caught her eye. As far as she could tell, everything was where it was supposed to be; clearly Redheart was doing a good job of maintaining this room.

A beep caused Pinkie to stop her search and look down at her hoof computer, which was now showing a message from Vinyl Scratch. Pinkie’s heart missed a beat upon seeing this.

Did they get it open?!

Quickly opening the message, she found it simply read ‘we’re breaking for lunch, do you want any?’. Pinkie sighed in dismay, closing the message. She did feel pretty hungry already, and she wanted to ask her if she had found out anything more about the objects she found. Mind made up, Pinkie left the lab, as she did she ran headlong into Redheart who was passing by the door at the time.

“Oh, sorry Pinkie,” she said hurriedly.

“No worries,” Pinkie assured her, “Are you heading down for food too?”

“Yeah, I take it you got Vinyl’s message as well,” Redheart asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be honest, I had got my hopes up it would be something a little more important,” Pinkie admitted, leading the way to the stairs.

Day 14, 15:05

“So in conclusion, Trixie does not know what these are,” Trixie finished, placing the piece of golden metal back in front of Pinkie.

“You neither?” Pinkie said exasperated, before turning to Soarin and Redheart. “Do you either of you know what they are?”

“Not a clue,” Soarin admitted, rolling his across the table to Pinkie.

“I’m afraid not,” Redheart concurred, passing hers over as well. “Maybe Fleur will know. Where is she by the way?”

“Probably still in the library,” Pinkie suggested, looking down the table, or at least the small end that wasn’t still crushed under the chandelier.

“Hey,” Soarin said, getting everypony’s attention. “What are you guys looking forward to most about getting out of here? Not seeing friends or family, that’s obvious. I mean little things; personally I can’t wait to see the sun again.”

“Getting back to work and being to help ponies again,” Redheart answered, a nostalgic look overcoming her.

“Music,” Vinyl said simply.

“Having free reign over my magic again,” Trixie stated.

Pinkie thought about it for a moment. “Making ponies smile like I used to.”

Pinkie Pie, Ponyville’s Party Pony Prodigy… feels like a life time ago.

“What about this place?” Redheart asked, looking around the dining room.

“Frankly,” Trixie began bitterly, “I think the best thing for it is to be torn to the ground.”

“Yeah, good riddance,” Vinyl agreed, biting into an apple. “But before that I plan on raiding it, I swear I’m going to get something out of this ordeal.”

“You mean besides your life?” Redheart asked in a slightly stern voice.

“That too,” Vinyl said with a small shrug.

“Would anypony like to know what I’m looking forward to most?” the Mastermind asked in an overly cheerful voice.

“No,” Vinyl answered simply, glancing up at the screen that had just turned on.

“Sometimes, I get the feeling you don’t like me very much,” the Mastermind said sarcastically.

“Whatever gave you a crazy idea like that?” Vinyl asked in a similar tone. “In my experience, sadistic psychos are the life and soul of every party.”

“Still too narrow minded to see the greater purpose in things I see,” the Mastermind responded enigmatically.

There they go again, talking like there’s something more to all of this. If that is the case, then what is the purpose?

“But,” the Mastermind continued, sounding cheery, “it hardly matters. I have a funny feeling our little game will come to a close soon… one way or another.”

The screen switched off once more, leaving a chilly atmosphere in place of the fairly upbeat one that had been growing moments before.

“Another thing I look forward to,” Trixie began, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Is killing him.”

Day 14, 18:33

Pinkie lay on the sofa in the parlour, squinting as she held the golden cylinder up to the light. She felt utterly intrigued by them, despite the distinct possibility they were nothing more than broken pieces from the air conditioning unit. Pinkie didn’t believe that however, while she couldn’t put her hoof on the reason why, she knew these pieces of metal were important for something. After all the last mysterious gold object she found had certainly proved to be important.

The last golden object Blueblood found more like. I think in the end the master key was more trouble than it was worth, we found a bathtub of purple paint, and a shed filled with murder weapons.

Pinkie slipped the object back in her bag and allowed her eyes to shut.

Still, the third murder was Coco’s, what did it teach me? Never trust Blueblood! Well I should already have known that, but I don’t think things would have turned out half as bad if not for the Mastermind’s involvement. We would have totally missed that if not for the small things like the colour of the message. I guess I learned there’s often more to something than meets the eye, more factors at play that you wouldn’t see if you didn’t look at the big picture.

Pinkie rolled over and looked to the door which was sitting slightly ajar, she could hear approaching hoofsteps and what sounded like raised voices.

“Because you’re not taking this seriously!” one shouted, Pinkie guessed it was Redheart.

“I’m not taking this seriously?!” the other spat back, clearly Vinyl. “I don’t know if you’ve stopped to notice, but I’m the one trying to get somewhere while you count jars of protein.”

Pinkie leapt to her hooves and ran to the door before things could escalate. She entered the hall just as Redheart’s mouth opened.

“What’s going on?” Pinkie asked, drawing both their attention.

“Nurse Joyless here thinks I’m too laid back, even though between the two of us, I’m the one doing all the work,” Vinyl explained angrily.

“I do plenty of work around here!” Redheart exclaimed, sounding offended. “Just because my work doesn’t involve firing spells at one staircase for two weeks and getting nowhere!”

“You wanna try and move those stairs?!” Vinyl demanded. “Be my guest! While you do that and get nowhere, I’ll sit on my plot for two weeks and occasionally get up to tell everyone the blood soaked corpse is in fact dead!”

“Enough!” Pinkie bellowed, silencing the pair instantly. “We are this close to getting out of this hellhole, the last thing we need right now is ponies at each other’s throats. Everypony is helping in their own way, that includes both of you. So please, let whatever this is go, if asking you to be BFFs is too much at least tolerate each other until we escape.”

“Alright, sorry Pinkie,” Redheart said looking a little ashamed before walking away.

“Yeah Pinks, I was out of line, it won’t happen again,” Vinyl assured her, taking her glasses off and rubbing her tired looking eyes.

“That’s alright,” Pinkie replied wearily, walking back into the parlour. “You should go get some rest, you don’t look too good.”

“Oh, thanks!” Vinyl said, chuckling weakly before walking away in the opposite direction of Redheart.

Pinkie sighed in exhaustion as she slumped back onto the sofa.

I said we were ‘this close’ to escaping… Well, whatever makes them happy. When did I become the group mediator?

Day 14, 20:00

The six ponies sat around the end of the dining table, eating their diner in total silence. Pinkie looked up and saw Vinyl and Redheart pointedly avoiding making eye contact.

Well I did say tolerating each other would be good enough.

“Stuff like this doesn’t happen, does it?” Pinkie asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Everypony looked at her, unsure what she meant. “Like murder, murder doesn’t happen very often in Equestria. So this… does this happen at all?”

“Not in any of our times,” Fleur admitted thoughtfully. “There have been serial killers in the past, but I don’t think any of them ever did this to their victims.”

“I always heard King Sombra liked to torment the Crystal Ponies in creatively brutal ways,” Trixie pointed out.

“What about Discord?” Soarin asked. “Isn’t turning ponies against each other the kind of thing he always did?”

“Sort of,” Pinkie replied. “I asked him once and it turns out he doesn’t like killing, says there’s more fun to be had with them while they’re alive.”

“Yes, there was one time he was visiting Princess Celestia during court,” Fleur informed them, “he boasted to me that during his entire rule, not a single pony ever died, whether it be through old age or anything.”

“Didn’t Discord’s rule last for a hundred years?” Vinyl asked confused.

“Give or take,” Fleur confirmed. “He did admit there was a small overpopulation crisis due to this.”

“Still, living forever doesn’t sound too bad,” Vinyl commented, “maybe Discord had the right idea.”

“Seriously?” Pinkie asked incredulously. “Being murdered is one thing, nopony wants that, but could you really live forever?”

“Could you not?” Vinyl countered.

“I used to think I could,” Pinkie admitted in barely more than a murmur. “Living forever sounds… difficult.”

“But wouldn’t Princess Twilight have lived forever?” Fleur asked, before adding, “or an incredibly long time at least.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie replied forlornly, “we didn’t like to bring it up, but we all knew that would be the case.”

Not anymore I suppose.

“I imagine there’ll be a state funeral for her,” Soarin proposed awkwardly.

“Yes, I suppose there shall,” Fleur agreed, leaving another awkward silence to descend upon the group.

Well isn’t this riveting.

Day 14, 21:59

Pinkie relished the hot water of the shower, imagining it rinsing all her worries away for a brief period. Reaching out she grabbed one of the plastic bottles labelled shampoo, as she applied it to her frizzy mane she couldn’t help but remember the pile of empty plastic bottles lying in the bath tub of the master bedroom.

Maybe the Mastermind is Rarity, and they can’t call a trial without a perfectly styled mane.

Pinkie smirked at the thought; of course if Rarity was the Mastermind she would be utterly confused and devastated. But then, Rarity did have a flair for the dramatics, and the Mastermind’s final line certainly wasn’t short of that.

I have a funny feeling our little game will come to a close soon… one way or another.

Pinkie shuddered despite the hot water running over her.

The Mastermind knew Vinyl was checking the secret room before yesterday’s trial, I doubt they miss anything that happens inside this house. So why aren’t they stopping us from trying to access the underground or figure out their identity? Was it all part of their plan, their reason for bringing us here and pitting us against one another?

Pinkie began scrubbing her coat, trying desperately not to think about what the Mastermind had meant, instead her thoughts returning to a now familiar subject.

Number four, Braeburn and Gizmo. I never could have believed Cloudchaser was capable of something like that. Doughnut Joe I barely knew, Lightning Dust was brash and arrogant when we first got here, Prince Blueblood… well I should have seen that coming, but Cloudchaser? I knew her and her sister when we were kids, they attended my parties. Sure, we weren’t the closest of friends, I didn’t even realise Flitter had a brain disorder, but still, I never realised she could be capable of that. I guess what I learned is that a pony's background and situation can tell you a lot about them, and to really understand what a pony is capable of you first have to understand the pony.

Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do with myself by asking these questions? Do I now understand myself better? Will these experiences and lessons help me? I don’t feel any different, and I certainly don’t feel any closer to uncovering the truth.

Pinkie sighed; having finished her wash she turned off the shower and stepped outside to towel herself off. She had felt tired before the shower, but now she felt wide awake.

Maybe a walk outside will help me sleep…

Day 15, 11:01

Pinkie groaned as her eyes blinked open, squinting against the sunlight pouring in through her window. Rolling over she grabbed her hoof computer off the bedside table and checked the time. As soon as she did, her eyes snapped open and she leapt out of bed.

“I’m late,” she exclaimed, running into the bathroom and throwing water from the sink over her face to help wake her up. “Hopefully the others won’t be worried.”

Leaving the bathroom Pinkie grabbed her saddlebags and left her room, almost forgetting to lock after herself in her rush. As Pinkie hurried down the corridor towards the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel a chill running up her spine. Something felt off, the house felt eerie. Slowing her pace, Pinkie listened carefully. There wasn't a sound to be heard beyond her own hoof steps, this wasn’t such an unusual occurrence, so why did it bother Pinkie now?

Reaching the kitchen, Pinkie found it deserted, same with the dining room, although there were some plates left lying around suggesting somepony had been eating. Carrying on down the hallway, Pinkie headed for the entrance hall.

Vinyl and Trixie are probably hard at work, I’ll go talk to them and this feeling will disappear.

Yes that was the plan, and it was a good one, Pinkie couldn’t help but smile to herself and hum an improvised tune as she walked. Although anypony nearby would see her smile was strained and her humming was shaky.

Pinkie stopped humming as she arrived in the entrance hall, walking across the balcony to the top of the stairs.

“Hey Vinyl, hey Trixie,” Pinkie began loudly, “How’s it…”

That was as far as she got before she looked down the stairs at the entrance hall.

Trixie wasn’t there, but Vinyl was. Vinyl Scratch was there, lying down, her signature sunglasses discarded nearby with one of their lenses shattered, a small pool of blood forming around her head.

Pinkie felt time come to a standstill, the world around her dissolving until only Pinkie and Vinyl remained, Pinkie looking down at the dead body of her old friend.

Pinkie screamed a horrific melody of anger and anguish as she rushed down the stairs and scooped up Vinyl’s limp body in her forehooves. Vinyl’s cool as ice smile gone, only one of her purple eyes staring back at Pinkie, the other now a pulverised, bloody mess.

As Pinkie stared down at Vinyl, her body began shaking. Not from sorrow, but from rage. Gritting her teeth, she laid Vinyl gently down, standing up on unsteady legs, turning to face the staircase.

“MASTERMIND!” Pinkie screamed at the top of her lungs to the entire room. “I know you’re there, answer me!”

“Something wrong?” the Mastermind asked innocently.

“Shut up!” Pinkie screamed at the phantom voice. “Show yourself right now so I can send you to Tartarus in pieces!”

“Why Pinkie, it sounds to me like you’re not enjoying our little game anymore,” the Mastermind began in mock horror. “Very well, would it make you feel any better if we changed our game?”

“No!” Pinkie shouted. “I’ve had enough of your games!”

“Don’t be so hasty Pinkie,” the Mastermind interrupted, “I think you’ll like this…”

Pinkie didn’t answer, she just stood breathing heavily, waiting for the Mastermind to say their bit.

“I’ll give you until six to investigate this murder,” the Mastermind began, “at which point we’ll have another trial. The difference being, that if you can correctly guess the culprit this time… I’ll let you and the others all walk free.”

Pinkie’s anger dissipated a little as she was so taken aback by this.

“What’s the catch?” she asked suspiciously. “What happens if we lose?”

“That…” the Mastermind said enigmatically, “remains to be seen.”

Pinkie was torn, on the one hand this whole thing sounded too good to be true, and she would still rather kick the Mastermind to death herself, but… there were still four other ponies here who were relying on her.

One of which is the murderer!

“So, do we have a deal?”

Pinkie bit her lip, and looked back at Vinyl’s body.

“Deal,” Pinkie whispered reluctantly.

Pinkie could almost hear the Mastermind’s grin on their next words.

“Then let the game begin!”

Author's Note

Oh Pinkie, didn't your father ever tell you not to make deals with the devil? (mine did)
Here we are! The last case! *cough* Everyone's last chance to correctly guess the culprit's identity! *cough* So get your thinking caps on, there's no punishment for getting it wrong... there's no prize for getting it right mind you, but let's stay positive!
The next part should hopefully be released by... I actually have no idea, I need to do some research for it so I'm going to hazard a guess it will be some time near the end of the week.

C5: Mind Over Master

Day 15, 11:17

Pinkie Pie circled around Vinyl’s body, refusing to make eye contact with any of the ponies lined up along the bottom of the stairs. The silence following Pinkie’s declaration was stretching to breaking point, ended only when Fleur spoke up.

“So if we correctly guess the culprit,” she began tentatively, as if not daring to hope it was true, “the game is over? We can leave?”

The Mastermind only said if ‘I’ figure it out…

“Yes,” Pinkie replied curtly, rather than voicing her thoughts aloud.

The Mastermind had announced Vinyl’s death right after they finished talking to Pinkie, less than a minute later the others had all run in from different directions. As they did Pinkie observed the various expressions on display, ranging from horrified to indifferent, courtesy of Trixie.

“Well, I guess there’s no time like the present,” Trixie said dismissively, “we should probably fan out and…”

“Actually,” Pinkie cut in, her voice like ice, “I’d like to know where exactly you’ve all been.”

The room fell silent once more following Pinkie’s demand. Eventually Soarin was the first to speak up.

“Well I don’t know about everypony else, but I was sitting in the parlour all morning,” he explained.

“Which parlour?” Pinkie demanded impatiently, “if you haven’t noticed, there are several of them.”

“Oh, uh…” Soarin began taken aback, trying desperately to pick out some detail. “It was the one with that big painting of Orchid.”

“What were you doing there?” Pinkie asked coldly.

“I was just sitting there relaxing,” Soarin replied defensively. “Why are you getting so aggressive?”

“Because somepony here is a murderer, and I’d rather cut straight to the chase!” Pinkie exclaimed, “now who else?”

“I was outside,” Fleur answered, “and before you ask I was just wandering around the eastern side of the grounds.”

“If you were outside, how did you get the announcement?” Pinkie asked suspiciously.

“Through my hoof computer,” Fleur explained, holding up her forehoof to illustrate her point.

That’s fair enough then.

“Trixie was in the library,” Trixie began, “I had been talking to Vinyl at breakfast and we’d come up with an idea how to get through the stairs, I went upstairs to research into it.”

“Did you get anywhere?” Pinkie asked.

“Not before the announcement was made,” Trixie replied matter-of-factly.

“That just leaves you,” Pinkie said looking over to Redheart.

“I was in the kitchen, clearing up after breakfast,” Redheart stated.

“I looked into the kitchen and dining room on my way over here,” Pinkie began, “They were both empty.”

“You probably looked in while I was outside scraping out the leftovers,” Redheart proposed.

“Fine, guess we have to do this the hard way,” Pinkie said annoyed, “Alright Redheart, can you examine the…”

“Hold on a second!” Trixie shouted, cutting Pinkie off. “You still haven’t told us where you’ve been all this time.”

“I fail to see how that matters,” Pinkie retorted, “I didn’t kill her.”

“And you expect us to take your word on that?” Trixie replied sceptically.

“Well none of you seemed to care where I was all morning!” Pinkie countered.

“What do you mean?” Fleur asked confused, “Vinyl told us at breakfast you were heading over to the gym.”

“What?” Pinkie blurted out, “I was asleep until eleven. I never spoke to Vinyl this morning.”

“How were you asleep until eleven?” Soarin asked incredulously.

“Last night I wasn’t feeling tired,” Pinkie explained, “so I went for a walk outside, I didn’t get back to my room until sometime after two.”

“Well wasn’t that silly of you?” Trixie stated in a flat tone.

“Hey, I’m not on trial here!” Pinkie spat back, “you already accused me once and nearly got us all killed because of it. Vinyl Scratch was one of my best friends since I first moved to Ponyville; the rest of you hardly knew her!”

The room fell utterly silent, as everypony shot accusing glares at one another, no one daring to speak for fear it might incriminate them.

“Alright,” Pinkie said at last, “now as I was saying, Redheart can you examine Vinyl’s body?”

“Um, of course,” Redheart said nervously, “I’ll need my equipment though.”

“Where is it?” Pinkie asked curtly.

“In my room…” Redheart began to say before Pinkie cut her off.

“Right, Soarin, go with Redheart to get her equipment,” Pinkie ordered, “the rest of us will wait here.”

Soarin didn’t argue for a second, quickly bustling Redheart up the stairs and away from the entrance hall as fast as possible. This left Pinkie alone with Trixie and Fleur, neither of which were looking pleased with her.

“What?” Pinkie demanded, noticing their expressions.

“Pinkie, I understand you’re feeling upset,” Fleur began as calmly as she could muster despite the situation. “But we need to work together; if you treat us all like we’re guilty then you’ll get nowhere.”

Pinkie looked away from Fleur, refusing to admit she was right.

“One of us is a murderer;” Pinkie began still looking the other way, “that means the other four are innocent. I will get those four out of here no matter what.”

Fleur didn’t respond, and Trixie still hadn’t spoken up. When Pinkie was sure neither of them were going to say anything, she began walking around the room, taking stock of her surroundings.

Vinyl’s body lay flat on its back, her legs slightly spread out; giving the impression she had simply fallen backwards. Her head was turned slightly so the bloody eye socket was closer to the ground, the pool of blood around her head clearly having poured from there. Her glasses were lying quite close by, upside down with the temples lying crooked. Pinkie assumed they must have fallen off her face when… whatever happened to her happened.

The left lens was shattered, correlating with the wounded eye on the body, small fragments of purple glass scattered on the floor. Beyond this, there was nothing noteworthy about the body; whatever had killed her must have been extraordinarily quick.

Hopefully whatever pain there was was also quick.

Taking a step back, Pinkie examined the position of the body in coordination with the rest of the room. If she had indeed fallen straight back, she must have been standing slightly right to the centre of the room, the open door to her right, and the stairs to her left. But that would suggest the killer stood in front of her. Surely if that was the case there should have been some struggle, but Vinyl’s body looked so… peaceful.

Reaching down once more, Pinkie slipped Vinyl’s hoof computer off her leg. Turning it on she began fiddling about through the usual screens, trying to follow Vinyl’s own example when they searched Gizmo’s computer. Sure enough, she soon found her way to the messages section; there were only two entries that day.

10:00- Trixie- I think I’ve done it, meet me at the entrance hall right now!

Pinkie glanced over at Trixie who avoiding her gaze. Before looking back at the message, it definitely had a black background. Pinkie moved over to the second and final message that day.

10:30- Unknown- video chat request sent successfully

Pinkie raised an eyebrow as she read this; someone had sent Vinyl a request for a video chat?

No…

Pinkie then noticed the icons beside the two messages; prefacing Trixie’s message was an icon of an envelope with an arrow pointing inwards, while the other message had the icon of an envelope with an arrow pointing outwards.

Vinyl contacted someone before she died, but who?

The video request was sent just half an hour before Pinkie woke up, she must have died shortly after sending this.

Pinkie was saved from having to ponder this by the sound of hoofsteps, indicating the return of Redheart and Soarin. Looking up Pinkie saw Redheart carrying the same bag she had sent Soarin away for when they found Cloudchaser injured, except it looked far more bulky than it did last time.

“Alright, I’m ready to begin,” Redheart announced, setting her bag down beside Vinyl’s body. “Pinkie could you help me?”

“Sure,” Pinkie replied neutrally.

She was about to crouch down next to Redheart before a cough from behind her drew her attention to the others standing idly by.

“Pinkie,” Fleur began, “don’t you think we’d be of more use investigating the rest of the house?”

Pinkie internally sighed before answering.

“Fine, but stick together, all three of you,” she commanded, a rare instance where her voice radiated with authority.

Soarin, Fleur and Trixie all left up the stairs, the latter not looking too keen at being ordered about. Pinkie then set to work with Redheart.

Day 15, 11:54

“There definitely seems to be something lodged in there,” Redheart said, turning her torch off and handing it over to Pinkie.

“Any idea what it is?” Pinkie asked curiously.

“Not without getting it out,” Redheart replied. “Do you think you could reach into my bag and pass me the forceps?”

“Sure…” Pinkie began hesitantly, “What are forceps again?”

“They look like curvy tweezers,” Redheart explained, while scraping away some of the congealed blood from around Vinyl’s eye socket.

Pinkie opened the bag once more and began searching for the forceps, not an easy task considering how full Redheart kept this thing stuffed. Eventually Pinkie just began pulling random things out to try and clear some space, leaving them to the side. As she lifted a jar of morphine aside, something caught her eye lying in the bottom of the bag. Curious, she reached for the torch Redheart has set down, flicking it on and shining it into the bags dark interior.

“Something wrong?” Redheart asked over her shoulder.

“No, everything’s fine,” Pinkie lied, picking up the fragments of purple glass from the inside of the bag and examining them closely.

There’s no way these came from anything other than Vinyl’s glasses, so how did they end up in here?

“Have you got those forceps yet Pinkie?” Redheart asked politely.

“Uh…” Pinkie began, placing the glass to the side and looking back in the bag, spotting the curvy tweezers almost immediately. “Yeah, here they are.”

Handing the forceps over, Pinkie began piling the bags contents back inside, while storing the pieces of glass inside her own bag for safe keeping. Once the bag was repacked, Pinkie looked over to see how Redheart was doing; she then had to look away when she saw the forceps half way through Vinyl’s eye socket.

“Are you getting anywhere with that?” Pinkie asked, feeling her stomach turn slightly.

“Yes… I think…” Redheart began, “there we go!”

Pinkie looked back over to see Redheart holding the forceps up, ignoring what she could only imagine was liquefied brain coating them, she looked to the tip, where a small object was clutched.

“What is that?” Pinkie asked confused, staring at the small warped object.

“I’m not actually sure,” Redheart admitted, releasing it from the forceps and wiping it with a cloth dipped in ethanol.

When she finished, she dropped whatever it was on the ground between her and Pinkie. As it fell it clinked, indicating it was made of metal, and when Pinkie looked at it she saw it was a golden colour.

Quick as lighting, Pinkie whipped her own bags off her back and opened the compartment where she stored the master key, and found it completely empty. No master key and certainly no golden metal objects.

Somepony got into my bag, but how? When?

Thinking back, the last time Pinkie was sure she had them was when she was lying in the parlour before she overheard Vinyl and Redheart’s fight. Looking back at the object Redheart had just pulled from Vinyl’s skull, she saw that it was definitely shorter than then objects she had found. Although it was easy to imagine that if she removed the cylinder and left only the pointed tip, it could have become this.

“What are you thinking Pinkie?” Redheart asked unsure.

I need to find out what those objects were…

“I’m going to keep hold of this and go see if I can figure out what it is,” Pinkie explained, scooping up the object and storing it in the now empty compartment in the saddle bags. “Can you manage here on your own?”

“Sure,” Redheart said, still sounding unsure.

Pinkie stood up and slung her bags back over her back as she walked towards the stairs, thinking about where she should head first. She never got anywhere in finding out what the metal objects were yesterday, where was she supposed to begin today? Although, she never did show them to Fleur. After getting them back during lunch she had forgotten to ask Fleur about them. She could go and ask Fleur about them now, however she didn’t know where in the mansion they were at the moment, and there was something else she wanted to look into…

Looking back at Redheart, Pinkie saw she was still busying herself with Vinyl’s body. Turning back to the stairs, Pinkie began to climb them, but as she did something caught her eye. Leaning down, Pinkie brushed a step at random with her hoof.

Dust?

Day 15, 12:25

As Pinkie walked down the third floor corridor, she made a mental note of the still open doors to the master bedroom.

Well at least who ever stole the master key hasn’t gone and locked everywhere up on us.

Continuing down the hall, she instead turned right, heading in through the open door to the lab. To her dismay she found it deserted, while she hadn’t expected to find Fleur here, she had hoped she could hit two birds with one stone. Regardless, she still had one other purpose coming here. Her earlier search of the lab had taken her past a section of shelving which seemed to exclusively hold various tools and equipment. Making her way there now she began scanning the different labels, opening any she knew Redheart must have taken from in order to fill her bag.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Pinkie slammed the forceps drawer shut. She didn’t know what she had expected to find coming up here, but Redheart had those glass fragments in her bag, that made her a suspect. And Pinkie decided the best way to investigate her was to go where she knew Redheart head been, this being the most obvious destination. However, her paranoid search had proved futile as she had found nothing of interest let alone relevance.

Hang on though, she had things other than tools in that bag… and I did find the glass under a bottle of…

Stepping away from the equipment shelf, Pinkie began navigating the room, looking for where she had found the bottles of ketamine.

Surely morphine while be nearby there.

It didn’t take her long to find the right shelf, seeing the loose nail that Lightning Dust had got her mane caught on. From there, Pinkie began reading the labels before skipping onto the next shelf and repeating. It turned out the morphine wasn’t very near by the ketamine after all, but Pinkie didn’t care so much about the time wasted, just that she had indeed found what she was looking for.

Just so long as this hunch isn’t a bust…

Taking a breath, Pinkie opened the drawer slowly, and sighed in disappointment. There was a single bottle missing, but nothing else out of the ordinary. Feeling peeved at her search here being for nothing, she slammed the drawer shut again, and heard a loud ripping noise as she did. Pinkie froze, confused by where the noise had just come from. The drawer had contained glass bottles, nothing that could have made that noise, but Pinkie was sure that’s where the noise had come from.

Tentatively she opened the drawer once more, if made no sound this time. Curious, she reached out with both hooves and lifted the whole drawer out of the shelf, as she did she heard a soft thud as something landed on the floor. Setting the drawer aside, Pinkie looked down and saw a balled up, squashed piece of paper that must have been lodged underneath the drawer.

Something like that doesn’t just end up there by accident…

Reaching down, Pinkie picked up the piece of paper, and began unfolding it carefully so as not to rip it any further. Once the sheet was open in front of her, it took her several seconds to register what it was from. Once she did however, she galloped from the room as fast as she could, not wishing to waste any more time. She ran down both flights of stairs, taking them three steps at a time. Once on the first floor she ran down the corridor to the parlour where the painting of Orchid had been. Once she arrived, she found it exactly as she had expected.

The top section of the painting had been torn off, so the top of Orchid’s head was missing. Holding up the sheet she found, Pinkie placed it over the missing section of the painting and found they fitted perfectly.

So somepony ripped this off the painting… but why? What does that accomplish?

Pinkie stood there feeling like a bit of an idiot as she stared at the painting, she had hoped to receive some divine inspiration once she put the two pieces together, but instead she just felt confused as to what the purpose of it was. With a sigh she took back the torn piece, folding it neatly and storing it in her bag. Looking back up at the painting, she stared at Orchid now with only half a head… or half a skull!

The skull was missing the exact amount Orchid is in this picture!

That only succeeded at confusing Pinkie even more, was this a clue? Did somepony want her to know the skeleton was Orchid’s? Pinkie thought about her next step carefully, in retrospect her discovery of the missing piece of the painting was nothing short of amazing considering what a stretch it was to search that drawer. She still had to talk to Fleur, but this opened two new options for her. Go back to the crypt, or go examine the skeleton again.

Trixie had been at the crypt yesterday apparently, and after that message Vinyl received from her, I should probably look into why exactly she felt the need to go back there.

With her mind made up, Pinkie left the parlour, heading back the direction she had just run from, towards the kitchen.

Day 15, 13:04

Pinkie reached the Plaza with the familiar engraved crypt entrance in good time; she still had five hours before the Mastermind said they would call the trial. Rather than jumping straight to opening the crypt, she instead began circling around the stone tablet.

Last time I was here, Trixie didn’t know that I was the one who opened the crypt; she assumed it was her magic. So then how did she get in yesterday?

It was perfectly reasonable that either Trixie stumbled upon the false slab, or that she never did get in, but just said she did so as not to lose face in front of Pinkie and Fleur. Not finding anything odd on the outside, Pinkie returned to where she found the slab that she had first noticed to be out of place. Putting all her weight on it, she felt it sink into the ground and heard the rumbling of the tablet moving to reveal the passage to the crypt.

Walking over and looking down the staircase, Pinkie found the crypt pitch black. The last time she was here she had relied on Trixie’s magic to allow her to see, this time however Pinkie whipped out the torch she had borrowed from Redheart. Flicking it on, Pinkie descended the stairs, using the dim cone of yellow light as her guide. Reaching the cramped chamber, Pinkie began examining the inside of each sarcophagus, from the empty ones, to the ones still occupied by long dead bodies.

Pinkie wasn’t surprised that she found nothing of value, but that was why she saved Orchid’s sarcophagus for last. Walking over to it, Pinkie leaned in, shining her torch into the empty container. The base was filled dust and bone meal, beyond that it looked entirely empty. Not wanting to leave here empty hooved, Pinkie reached in and began sifting through the dust. It wasn’t as unpleasant as she imagined, the trick was to pretend it was something other than a pony’s remains she was dipping her hoof into.

Nothing. Nothing but dust and more dust and…

Pinkie’s hoof froze as a flash of colour caught her eye, which was impressive considering whatever it was was almost entirely coated in grey. Reaching out once more, Pinkie grasped hold of the dusty strand, pulling it free from the pile. Holding it tightly she waved it a little before whipping it on her coat. Looking at it once more, she found it was a long strand of pink hair.

Pink, that means it could belong to either Fleur or Redheart…

Pinkie’s torch began flickering threateningly, knowing she didn’t have long, Pinkie hurried out of the tomb just as her torch died. Now in the light of day, Pinkie examined the hair once more. Besides its colour, there was nothing else defining about it. However this did give her another reason to go look at the skeleton once more. Storing the hair along with the gold object they removed from Vinyl, Pinkie began walking back towards the manor.

Maybe I was wrong, maybe you haven’t learnt anything.

Pinkie didn’t stop walking, but her breathing did intensify as the thought passed through her mind.

What’s that supposed to mean?

It means, you spent all day yesterday trying to figure out what you learned from your experiences, and yet today it’s like you’ve completely forgotten them.

I haven’t forgotten anything!

Oh really? Lesson number two?

That was…

That’s what I thought. I guess I was wrong, looks the Mastermind will win after all.

“The Mastermind won’t win!” Pinkie shouted out loud, bursting into a run.

Really? Because from what I’ve seen, you’ve been running around for… two hours now, doing exactly what they want you to.

What’s the heck is that supposed to mean?!

…

Maybe if you helped me!

I have helped you. You have the knowledge; you just need to apply it.

Who are…

“Pinkie?” a voice said, cutting Pinkie’s thoughts short.

Pinkie looked up to see Soarin gliding alongside her.

“Oh, hey Soarin,” Pinkie said, disappointed by the distinct silence in her head.

“Are you alright?” Soarin asked, looking concerned as the pair slowed down now that they were nearing the kitchen door. “You looked kinda… distracted.”

“I’ll be fine,” Pinkie assured him, before remembering something. “Oh yeah, have you seen Fleur? I need to talk to her.”

“Not for a while,” Soarin admitted, looking around as if expecting to see her. “If I see her though, I’ll send her your way.”

“Thanks,” Pinkie said gratefully, “I just need to go check something out.”

With that she left Soarin at the kitchen door and headed into the house, her hooves carrying her towards the gym where the trunk containing the skeleton waited. Passing by the entrance hall, Pinkie saw Redheart talking to Trixie. Trixie looked up at Pinkie as she passed over the balcony, shooting her a cold glare.

She clearly doesn’t like being ordered around, or treated like a suspect. Well tough luck Trixie!

Leaving the entrance hall behind, Pinkie entered the west wing of the house. Reaching the gym, Pinkie looked over to the wall where she had moved the trunk after Redheart and her had finished packing away the skeleton, and her heart stopped in her chest when she saw it was no longer there. Running into the room, Pinkie began looking around wildly. This didn’t last long as she found the trunk placed against the opposite wall. Calming down, she began walking over to it.

Okay I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion, somepony clearly just…

But Pinkie stopped dead in her tracks once more when she noticed something sticking out of the lid of the trunk. A shred of purple material, adorned with stars. Reaching out, Pinkie unclasped the trunk slowly, mentally noting how much lighter it was now. Once she opened the lid, the torn piece of fabric fell free, revealing the trunk to be completely empty.

Day 15, 13:58

Pinkie was fuming as she marched along the third floor corridor once more, the piece of material now stored in her bag along with all the other pieces of evidence she’d gathered.

Somepony took the skeleton, who? Why? And where the heck is it now?

Storming into the master bedroom, Pinkie began turning the place upside down; searching for anywhere the bones might be hidden. She’d found them here in the first place; she was banking on finding them a second time. She found nothing under the bed or covers, she found nothing in the wardrobes of dressers, she didn’t even find anything in the bathroom beyond the purple tub. Re-entering the bedroom, Pinkie began cursing under her breath.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew that fabric was torn from Trixie’s cape. That along with the message she sent Vinyl and her presence at the crypt was seriously making Pinkie believe it was her after all.

This is a waste of time, the skeleton isn’t here. I should go confront Trixie now.

Pinkie began making for the door, but froze, as she noticed something in her peripheral vision. Looking around she saw the bedside table, its drawer open by a couple of inches. Pinkie definitely hadn’t opened it, it must have already been open when she came in and in her anger she completely missed it.

Walking back across the room, Pinkie stopped in front of the table and opened the drawer. Inside lay two objects, the first was a small velvet box, lying open and empty, the ring that once occupied it now absent. But it was the second object that drew Pinkie’s attention, which she reached for now, her curiosity growing as she examined it.

Pinkie had never seen anything like this before, the object appeared to be made entirely from some dark metal, and despite being relatively small Pinkie was surprised by the weight of the object. The shape was easily the most bizarre thing about it; for starters it seemed to have what Pinkie could only guess was a slightly curved handle on one end, with a long, slender barrel on the other end. Peering down the barrel Pinkie found it to be hollowed out; turning it to the side again she noted a semi-circular piece of metal jutting from the tip of the barrel.

The middle section was a little more complex, consisting of a hooked appendage sticking out the bottom, encircled by a thin ring of metal, making it impossible for Pinkie to touch the hook with her hoof. On the opposite side, there was a similarly shaped part, but this one was not blocked by anything, and Pinkie found she could pull it back. Doing so caused the object to make a small clicking noise, and for the large cylinder in the centre of the object to turn slightly as well as the inaccessible hook to tuck itself closer into the body of the object.

Moving her hoof down to the large cylinder that had just moved, Pinkie gave it a tentative nudge, but found that it was now rigidly stuck in position. Following along from this this, Pinkie’s hoof came to rest on a pin that poked out below the cylinder. Applying a slight amount of pressure, Pinkie felt the pin squeeze in slightly, but before she could try to push it in all the way, a voice spoke out behind her.

“Pinkie,” Fleur said, announcing her presence and making Pinkie jump a little. “Soarin said you wanted to speak with me.”

“Huh?” Pinkie said, having completely forgotten about the gold object. However as Fleur noticed what Pinkie was holding, her eyes became wide with horror.

“Pinkie!” she exclaimed, snatching the object from her hooves with telekinesis. “What are you doing with one of these?!”

“What?” Pinkie asked, completely nonplussed at Fleur’s sudden reaction. “I just found it in the drawer here; do you know what it is?”

Fleur looked at Pinkie, slightly confused. “You’ve never heard of a gun before?” Pinkie just stared blankly at Fleur who sighed and walked across the room to Pinkie, holding the gun out between them. “This is a weapon, a firearm to be specific, a little bit like a crossbow I suppose, or a small canon.”

Using her magic, Fleur pushed back the hooked part Pinkie had moved, back into its original position. She then pushed the pin Pinkie had just been examining, causing the whole cylinder to swing out to the side.

“You see,” Fleur began to explain, “a gun uses a system of triggers, pins and hammers to propel small ammunition called bullets.”

To emphasis her point, Fleur turned the gun so the barrel was pointing at the ceiling, and knocked it so five gold objects slid out of the cylinder into her waiting magical grasp. Pinkie’s eyes shot open when she saw these.

“That’s them!” she exclaimed, causing Fleur to jump back in surprise. “The objects I found in Blossomforth’s room yesterday.”

Pinkie began desperately rummaging through her bag, fishing out the warped gold tip they recovered from Vinyl.

“Where did you get that?” Fleur asked curiously upon seeing what Pinkie was holding.

“Redheart and I pulled it out of Vinyl’s head,” Pinkie explained. Fleur flinched, apparently understanding the implications of this while Pinkie was still trying to work it out.

“I guess that makes sense,” Fleur said sadly, holding up one of the other bullets for Pinkie to see. “It’s only the tip that gets fired from the gun; the rest of the shell is just disposed of.”

“So you mean…” Pinkie began, staring at the gun still hovering between them.

“I’m afraid so,” Fleur confirmed, “Vinyl must have been killed with this gun… and the bullets you found.”

Pinkie was silent for a long time, staring at the bullets that had been stolen from her and used to kill her friend.

If I had been more careful with them… Vinyl might still be alive.

“Pinkie…” Fleur began, sounding concerned.

“How did you know what it was?” Pinkie asked, remembering why she had wanted to see Fleur in the first place.

“I told you about the civil war in my old home of Prance,” Fleur reminded her, continuing as Pinkie nodded. “The soldiers had guns imported from the Gryphon Kingdom; I saw enough ponies shot down with them to know what they are.”

Pinkie nodded, unable to reply. Fleur used her magic to push the still empty cylinder back into the gun, passing it and the remaining bullets over to Pinkie.

“Here, you should keep these,” she said, offering them to Pinkie, “You’ll probably need them as evidence.”

Pinkie nodded, taking the items and stowing them away in her saddle bags. With that Fleur turned to leave, Pinkie didn’t try to stop her, still reeling over the idea that she could have been indirectly responsible for Vinyl’s death. It wasn’t until Fleur was long gone and Pinkie was alone that she pulled herself together.

She couldn’t let guilt hinder her investigation, the pony who was directly responsible for Vinyl’s death was still out there, and it was her job to catch them. If the missing skeleton wasn’t here, Pinkie was left with no further clues as to where she could find it, however now she had two other pieces of evidence to go on, the missing ring and the newly found murder weapon. With regards to the ring, Pinkie couldn’t be sure it was at all relevant, and even if it was she didn’t know where to begin looking for it. The gun however was easy, Pinkie knew she needed to know more about this weapon, and that made her next destination clear as day.

Leaving the master bedroom, Pinkie made trotted the short distance to the library, which upon a quick scan appeared to be deserted. Pinkie was sure the information she need would be found here, and she had seen the very book that could give her the answers during one of her previous visits. Making her way across to the history section, Pinkie began scanning the shelves, looking for the title she knew was there.

Quite quickly she came across it, excitedly pulling the book out from between its neighbours and bringing it over to the nearest desk where she examined the title.

Mare at Arms: a Complete History of Equestrian Weaponry.

Opening up to the first page, Pinkie began scanning the contents, searching for any words Fleur had mentioned in her brief explanation of guns. About midway down the list she saw a chapter heading ‘Firearms’, and hurriedly flipped to the indicated page number. She was forced to sift through several pages of information on canons before her desired result jumped off the page at her.

The first gun recorded, was created by the gryphon engineer, Blighted Beak, in the year 740 Post Unification, roughly one year after the outbreak of the Great Gryphon-Equestrian War. The invention proved to be a devastating new weapon, credited by many historians as the sole reason for the majority of the gryphons’ victories during the Great War. Even today, almost all guns are made using Blighted Beaks original blueprints, making it near impossible for ponies to use them as they are specifically designed for the use of claws.

Despite this, ponies have been able to use guns themselves, primarily due to the aid of magic, but in some cases ponies have been able to use them with the aid of other devices, such as the appropriately named ‘gun gauntlet’. Alternatively there have been multiple models of guns crafted using levers to fire as opposed to triggers, allowing them to be used with ease by ponies and other creatures with hoofs. However due to the high frequency of ponies accidentally nudging the levers and firing the gun by accident, usually resulting in serious injury, these models were banned in Equestria in the year 1106 Post Unification, requiring a special licence and extensive training for one to be owned.

Pinkie skipped by the rest of the history lesson, before finally stopping at the section describing the functions of different types of guns. To her great surprise, she found and entire section and diagram dedicated to the gun in her possession, which she learnt was called a ‘colt revolver’. From what she gathered, the trigger on the top of the gun was called the ‘hammer’, which pulling back ‘cocked’ the gun and turned the cylinder so the next bullet was aligned with the chamber. Then, by pulling the trigger she couldn’t reach, the hammer would spring back, causing the ‘firing pin’ to connect with the bullet, causing a chemical reaction inside the shell, causing the tip to be fired through the barrel.

“Seems simple enough,” Pinkie commented as she closed the book over. She had after all built her own party canon, so a lot of what she read was familiar to her, if not immediately recognisable.

Now this raises the good question, who could have used the gun? Since it’s not a lever activated model, it would have needed to have been a unicorn… unless another device was involved, which would mean anypony could have done it.

Pinkie sat there, starring at the book sitting before her. Sure she now knew a whole lot more about guns than she had this morning, but it didn’t feel like anything she’d read could help her. Giving a small sigh, she stood up from the desk, looking around the still empty library.

I suppose I could always get back to looking for that skeleton.

With a new goal in mind, she began walking out of the room, disappointed that her research hadn’t revealed anything more substantial to her. As she waked however, she caught sight of something sitting on one of the desks. Stopping in her tracks, she looked over at a book titled ‘Advanced Chess Playing’. It was the book she had seen Fleur reading the day before.

Pinkie decided to ignore it, instead choosing to carry on walking, but less than a few steps ahead she came to another stop, looking back at the book. Was it her imagination, or had that book moved slightly?

Curious, and a little disturbed, Pinkie edged her way towards the book, which was now remaining stubbornly still. Standing right next to the desk Fleur had been sitting at, Pinkie could now see the book clearly.

It’s just a book, nothing strange whatsoever…

Pinkie was about ready to turn away, before she recalled finding the piece of the painting in the drawer of morphine, and the hair in the crypt. Her instincts had served her well that day, unusually well admittedly, but still, maybe this too was important. Reaching out, Pinkie picked up the offending book, opening the front cover slowly, her eye twitching as she saw what lay beneath it.

Lying just underneath the cover, the pages of the book had had a large circle cut out of their centre, leaving a slot in the book, perfect for hiding the gold diamond ring that lay inside.

Day 15, 15:37

Pinkie paced around the parlour for the dozenth time, straining her memory for any little piece of useful information.

I definitely had the bullets when I was here, I put them right back in my bag after I was done looking at them. I then went outside to talk to Vinyl and Redheart; nopony entered the parlour in that time… well, not through the door at least.

Pinkie approached the fireplace, peering up in, as if expecting to see the culprit staring back at her from the secret passage.

Still, I wasn’t outside the room for that long.

Leaving the fireplace behind, Pinkie departed the room, retracing her steps from the day before.

I stuck around the parlour for a while, until Soarin came and told me dinner was ready, at which point I went with him to the dining room. We were never close enough for him to have taken the bullets while we walked.

Arriving at the dining room, Pinkie approached the end where they had eaten together, making sure to avoid any leftover debris from the chandelier.

I kept my bags bellow my chair the whole time, nopony left their seats. Although a unicorn wouldn’t have to, and Trixie and Fleur both use magic to lift their cutlery. Could it be possible that they slipped the bullets out of my bag during the meal while they held their forks?

Neither Trixie or Fleur were looking particularly innocent right now, so Pinkie wasn’t finding it very hard to believe either of them were capable of pulling such a feat off as she scanned the underside of the table.

After dinner I went straight to bed, I was alone, and once inside my room I locked the door. I didn’t take my bags with me while I walked outside, but my room was still locked.

Deciding there was nothing left to be found here, Pinkie began walking out of the dining room, intending to head back to her bedroom. As she walked however, she forgot to watch out for junk littering the floor, and soon found herself sprawled on the ground after having skidded on something curved.

Groaning, Pinkie looked over her shoulder at what she had slipped on, spotting a pale, sausage shaped rock.

No, not a rock… a rib!

Scurrying to her hooves, Pinkie rushed over to where the rib lay amongst the wreckage of the table. Picking it up she confirmed that it definitely was a bone, looking around wildly; she half hoped the rest of the missing skeleton would leap out at her. To her dismay, it never did, but she refused to give up, so turning around she began climbing over the ruins, searching for any other bones.

It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Unfortunately for the skeleton thief, Pinkie was the Ponyville needle in haystack finder champion for six years running, and she very quickly found a second bone, this one resembling the splintered half of a femur. Pinkie looked around but couldn’t find any more pieces in the pile.

Where exactly did they put the skeleton? And why are these bones specifically down here?

True, the thief could have dropped them, but why would they have been carrying the skeleton over the wreckage of the chandelier anyway? Unless they had wanted to hide it in the wreckage, but Pinkie could already tell that wasn’t the case, so that only left somewhere close by. But Pinkie hadn’t found anything under the table when she looked, that only left…

Pinkie craned her neck, looking up at the gaping hole in the ceiling left by the chandelier ripping from it.

Bingo?

Pinkie had to admit, it was a clever hiding spot, and it could explain why those bones were lying in the wreckage below, but without being able to reach the ceiling, she couldn’t know for sure.

But there’s a room above this one… Cloudchaser’s room.

Day 15, 16:14

Pinkie continued turning the door handle despite the door remaining stubbornly locked. At this point in the day she was half tempted to try bucking the door in, but she still hadn’t forgotten to Vinyl when they tried forcing their way into Gizmo’s room. Once again she found herself wondering where the room keys went, did the Mastermind come out of their hiding place to collect them? They certainly hadn’t found any of the deceased personal effects with their bodies in the morgue.

This did leave Pinkie with one other option though, one she knew worked. Leaving the door to Cloudchaser’s room, Pinkie traversed the hallways until she came to the still open door of Blossomforth’s room. Braeburn had been able to remove the door without incurring the Mastermind’s wrath; surely Pinkie could do the same. Entering the room, Pinkie retrieved the tool box from the bed, carrying it back to Cloudchaser’s room, dangling from her mouth.

Setting to work, Pinkie began unscrewing the door hinges. She had watched Braeburn do the same thing, and it hadn’t looked too difficult. No, it wasn’t difficult, just slow. Time was running out, and despite the various discoveries she’d made, Pinkie felt no closer to understanding who was behind this murder. First there was the message sent to Vinyl from Trixie, whose cape was also caught in the empty trunk.

The broken pieces of Vinyl’s glasses were in Redheart’s bag, and Pinkie found the torn piece of the painting lodged beneath the morphine drawer. She found pink hair in the crypt, that could either have belonged to Fleur or Redheart, it was light enough to be either of them. The gun was in the same drawer as the empty ring box, which Pinkie found in the book Fleur had been reading. And now to top things off, the missing skeleton appeared to be stashed away in the dining room ceiling, unless the thief had the key to Cloudchaser’s room, they would have had to have put it there from the dining room, requiring either wings or magic.

Pinkie groaned as the last screw dropped out of the hinge and the door fell into her waiting hooves. As far as she could see, they were all equally likely to have done it. However as she shifted the door to lean against the wall, she couldn’t help but think what the voice in her head had told her.

You’ve been running around doing exactly what they want you to.

Why would the Mastermind want her to find evidence to the identity of the killer? Especially after establishing the new reward for winning. After setting the door to the side, Pinkie stepped inside the room. It looked just like every other bedroom on the second floor, the only difference being that somepony had laid a towel across the centre of the floor like a carpet.

Cloudchaser probably put it there in case any of us came in here to investigate Braeburn’s death.

Pulling away the towel, Pinkie found a number of hastily replaced floor board, all missing the nails previously pinning them into place. Reaching down, she pulled each of the boards away, revealing a small square hole overlooking the space between the floor and by extension the dining room via the new hole ripped open by the chandelier. Flicking on the torch she had taken from Redheart, Pinkie began shining the light around the darkened gap beneath the floor boards and above the ceiling.

The light very quickly spilled over the pile of bones, hidden just over the lip of the hole in the ceiling. Reaching through the square hole with her hoof, Pinkie tried to reach where the bones were. It was no good, whoever put them in there didn’t use this room, meaning they needed to have levitated or flown the bones up there from the dining room. Pulling her hoof back, Pinkie stood up, leaving the hole exposed as she left Cloudchaser’s bedroom.

Pinkie checked her hoof computer as she entered the hall; it was approaching five, giving her one more hour before the start of the trial. Without any more leads to investigate, Pinkie decided to retire to her own room, in the hopes of assessing what she had gathered in peace. She had little over an hour to come up with a solution to this case, victory meaning freedom for her and whichever of her friends were innocent.

What happens if we lose?

That… remains to be seen.

Pinkie shook the memory from her mind. Before if they had guessed the incorrect culprit, it would result in all their deaths. Pinkie couldn’t even imagine what the Mastermind had planned for if they failed this time.

We won’t fail… I won’t fail. Today we end this game once and for all.

Author's Note

Apologies for how late this chapter was, There was a bit of an issue regarding my research into guns which took several days to iron out.
Regardless, here we are, standing at the precipice of the final part of the final chapter. So get your thinking caps on and throw your wildest theories at me, I've already received a few and from what I can see there is a LOT of variation in people's ideas for this chapter, some very right, some very wrong, all very clever.
The date for the third part has been pushed back to Thursday, it's already written and uploaded to the site, but I forgot to add this deadline earlier.

C5: The Games We Play

Day 15, 18:00

Pinkie walked down the stairs as slowly as she could physically manage without being obvious that she was trying to delay the inevitable. The other four stood around Vinyl’s body, which was now covered with a sheet of something, waiting for her. Redheart looked fidgety, shifting her weight from one side to the next, nervously glancing around at the others. Soarin stood with his shoulders slumped, looking deflated, staring down at the ground. Pale, but still.

Fleur looked as calm and cool as ever, thoughtfully posed with one of her hooves resting against her temple and her eyes shut, giving a serene impression. Trixie looked as cold as ever, glaring at Pinkie as she descended the stairs, but otherwise showing no emotion whatsoever. Pinkie finally reached the foot of the stairs and walked over to the others, completing the circle around Vinyl’s obscured body.

“I… I thought I should cover her up,” Soarin explained, breaking the silence, “seemed rude to leave her exposed once we were done investigating.”

Pinkie nodded, hoping the simple gesture would convey her appreciation as she didn’t feel like talking.

“Well, aren’t you all a lively bunch,” the Mastermind stated. Nopony reacted to the voice; its reappearance came as a surprise to none of them. “Oh come now; let’s not spoil this by being bitter towards one another. It’s like I said, one way or another, this all ends today.”

“One way or another…” Trixie repeated in a murmur, staring intently at the main staircase.

“So considering this could very well be our final hours together,” the Mastermind continued, “why don’t we remember the good times instead of giving each other the evil eyes.”

“Good times?!” Redheart repeated in disbelief.

“Yes, like the time Coco found Doughnut Joe’s stained shirt in the laundry room,” the Mastermind said, causing Pinkie’s ears to perk up. “Or the time everypony thought Soarin had murdered Trenderhoof. Of course we can’t forget the time Blueblood nearly had you all duped under my guidance, or when Cloudchaser organised a double murder out of the desire to protect her sister. Good times.”

“Those were all… oddly specific,” Fleur pointed out suspiciously.

Oddly specific indeed…

“Oh, just four random occasions that sprung to mind,” the Mastermind replied innocently. “Regardless, I think it’s time we jumped straight to the main event, wouldn’t you agree?”

Pinkie didn’t have time to disagree before the Mastermind’s voice was cut off by the usual rumbling and explosions of dust as the stairs began collapsing. Pinkie could feel her heart thumping in time with the trembling of the entrance hall, the anticipation of the final trial palpable. Once the stairs finished shifting, the room fell into complete silence once more.

“Are you all waiting for an invite?” the Mastermind asked calmly.

Pinkie looked over her shoulder at the others; the quick glance was all she needed to know they were expecting her to lead the way. Taking the first steps towards the courtroom, she could hear the others marching close behind.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever expressed it properly,” the Mastermind began casually as they descended the stairs together. “But this manor is a truly marvellous structure. Spanning the ages, almost as old as Canterlot itself. The first time I came here, I knew it would serve my purpose perfectly, and after these two weeks together, I can safely state that it has achieved that.”

“Your purpose,” Fleur repeated, “you never did tell us what that was supposed be.”

“All in due time,” the Mastermind assured them as they reached the foot of the stairs.

Pinkie stopped in her tracks, staring at the wall hiding the secret room. It would be so easy to defy the Mastermind, forget this game and go straight for the room.

“Come now Pinkie,” the Mastermind said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “you know I wouldn’t let you get away with that.”

Pinkie grimaced, before continuing towards the open door to the courtroom. The Mastermind had stayed true to their word that they would be punished if they tried to force their way through doors, Vinyl proved that. Pinkie had no doubt that if she attempted to get through that door now, she wouldn’t live very long.

Entering the courtroom, Pinkie took in the familiar surroundings. The circular railing with the sixteen alcoves, the screens directly behind each bench, displaying their faces as well as the faces of those who had fallen.

Twilight Sparkle… Doughnut Joe… Trenderhoof… Lightning Dust… Coco Pommel… Prince Blueblood… Braeburn… Gizmo… Cloudchaser… Vinyl Scratch.

Finally Pinkie’s eyes fell on the screen directly opposite her, showing the chaotic mass of grey pixels, representing the Mastermind. Pinkie had no doubt that screen had originally been intended for Blossomforth, before she…

Where is Blossomforth exactly? She was definitely here, that recording and those feathers prove it. But where has she been all this time? Where is she now?

“Let’s all take our positions shall we,” the Mastermind proposed, making it sound like they had a choice. “I’d like to clarify the rules before we begin.”

“We know the rules,” Trixie retorted, taking up her own position as the others did likewise. “We use the dial to vote who we believe the culprit is, if the majority is correct, we win.”

“Those certainly were the rules up until now,” the Mastermind corrected her, causing all five ponies to look up at the Mastermind’s screen in confusion. “However this time, there’s a twist. In order to successfully convict the killer… all five of you must vote against them.”

“What?!” Soarin exclaimed. “But why in Equestria would the killer vote for themselves?!”

“Actually,” Pinkie began, thinking back to Cloudchaser and Lightning Dust. “It has happened twice already.”

“Exactly, so don’t despair,” the Mastermind encouraged, in a sickly sweet voice. “Just have faith the killers conscience will catch up with them.”

Pinkie looked down at her hooves as the runes below her began to glow, there was no turning back now. She looked around the gathered ponies once more, sizing them up. Redheart still looked nervous, Soarin still looked downtrodden, Fleur still looked calm, and Trixie still looked cold and emotionless.

“Now that we’re all ready,” the Mastermind announced, “I call this final trial to order.”

Trial 5: Vinyl Scratch

“Such a shame about Miss Scratch really,” the Mastermind said in mock sincerity, “she was actually beginning to grow on me.”

“Alright everypony,” Fleur began, ignoring the Mastermind. “Let’s start from the beginning, why the victim was at the scene of the crime.”

“Well isn’t that obvious?” Redheart asked, “her and Trixie have been working there for a while now, Vinyl especially so. I don’t think it’s that much of a surprise that she was at the entrance hall.”

“But I was pretty sure Vinyl was headed to the games room,” Soarin pointed out, “she asked me if I wanted to go with her right after breakfast. Well, after she told us that she ran into Pinkie…”

“I still have no idea why Vinyl would say that,” Pinkie insisted, “I was asleep this entire morning; at no point did I speak to her.”

“Maybe we misheard her,” Redheart proposed.

“Regardless, we’ll come back to that,” Fleur said brushing it aside.

“And as Trixie already stated,” Trixie began, “she was in the library all morning looking up a spell that might help us.”

“And did you get anywhere with that?” Pinkie asked, bracing herself on the bench in front of herself.

“Trixie already told you she didn’t!” Trixie snapped back.

“Then perhaps you’d like to explain why you sent this message to Vinyl at ten,” Pinkie suggested, holding up Vinyl’s hoof computer.

Trixie just blinked, nonplussed by Pinkie’s accusation.

“What message?” she asked, sounding genuine.

Pinkie opened at the messages section, quickly bringing up the one sent from Vinyl.

“Message sent to this computer at ten in the morning,” Pinkie announced out loud, “from Trixie, saying ‘I think I’ve done it, meet me at the entrance hall right now’.”

Pinkie then looked up at Trixie triumphantly, but her expression quickly faded upon seeing Trixie's blank expression.

“I didn’t send that message,” Trixie stated matter-of-factly, holding up her own hoof computer, showing the only messages she had sent or received that day being one from Soarin asking if she knew where Fleur was.

She could have deleted it… can we do that?

Pinkie looked down at her own hoof computer and began searching about for a delete message function. To her dismay, no such function could be found.

And she does seem genuinely surprised by that message; I guess it wasn’t from her. But then who did send it? And how did they make it say it was from Trixie?

“Are you quite done jumping the gun?” Trixie asked, sounding annoyed.

Pinkie’s ears pricked up.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“Are you done jumping the gun?” Trixie repeated, sounding exasperated now. “It’s a pretty common phrase Pinkie.”

“I’ve never heard it before,” Pinkie countered, “but then I’d never even heard of a gun until a few hours ago. But yesterday you told me you didn’t recognise those gold cylinders I found.”

“That’s right, I didn’t,” Trixie confirmed, “but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Because those cylinders were bullets, used for guns,” Pinkie explained, “so how would you know a phrase using the word gun, but not know what bullets look like?”

“I heard the phrase when I was in Manehattan,” Trixie explained, “yeah, I’ve heard of guns and bullets, but if you showed me them I wouldn’t know what they were without being told. So is that what those cylinders were? Bullets for a gun?”

“Yes,” Pinkie confirmed, “and they were also what the killer used to murder Vinyl with.”

“Wait,” Soarin said, “the killer shoved one of those gold things in Vinyl’s eye?”

“No,” Pinkie said, bringing out the gun and bullets, including the one they removed from Vinyl. “The killer used this gun to fire the bullet into Vinyl’s head.”

“That’s the murder weapon?!” Trixie exclaimed. “Where did you find it?”

“The murderer stashed it in the bedside table in the master bedroom,” Pinkie explained. “Fleur explained what it was to me, and after finding one of the bullets in Vinyl’s skull, we put two and two together.”

“But didn’t you have all six of the bullets?” Soarin asked.

“I did,” Pinkie agreed, dreading this moment. “But once we found this one inside Vinyl, I checked and found they had all been taken from my bags, as well as the master key.”

“You lost the master key?!” Trixie shouted, furious.

“I didn’t lose it!” Pinkie spat back, “somepony stole it!”

“When?” Trixie demanded. Pinkie hesitated.

“I don’t know when exactly,” she explained, knowing full well it sounded feeble. “I definitely had them on me before dinner yesterday, but they could have been taken at any point after that.”

“So what’s to say the bullets never went missing and you fired the gun?” Trixie accused.

“Well actually, I did some reading on guns,” Pinkie began, “and it turns out these models were built with griffons in mind, so they can only be used with claws. However ponies can use them if they use magic.”

“Meaning only Trixie or Fleur could have fired it?” Soarin asked.

“No,” Fleur cut in, “I’ve seen earth ponies and pegasi fire guns before using specially made gauntlets.”

Pinkie internally cursed, she had momentarily forgotten about that bit.

“Maybe we should back track,” Redheart suggested.

“I agree,” Fleur concurred, “none of this explains why Vinyl was at the entrance hall to begin with.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t she have been suspicious when Trixie didn’t show up after she received that message?” Soarin pointed out.

“Maybe, but who even did send that message?” Fleur asked.

“Who could?” Redheart added. “Maybe if somepony stole Trixie’s computer, but even then it wouldn’t send messages from her name right?”

“No,” Trixie answered thoughtfully. “Obviously somepony was able to alter their computer tag to send messages from other names.”

“But the only pony who was ever capable of doing something like that was Vinyl,” Pinkie pointed out.

“Well whoever did it,” Trixie continued, “they must have used the message to lure Vinyl there and shot her once she arrived.”

“I think Vinyl was shot from the front,” Pinkie pointed out, remembering how she lay in proportion to the rest of the room. “Which meant the killer must have faced her as they pulled the trigger.”

“But then why didn’t Vinyl run?” Soarin asked, “Or use magic to stop the bullet?”

“Maybe she wasn’t expecting it,” Fleur pointed out, “she may have not known the gun was a weapon.”

“So after Vinyl was dead,” Trixie continued, “the killer went and stashed the gun in the master bedroom.”

“But why didn’t they lock the door?” Redheart asked, “They would have had the master key, and we know it works on the door to the master bedroom. So why didn’t they lock it after themselves so we couldn’t find the murder weapon?”

“Maybe they were confident,” Fleur suggested, “or panicked. Either way it doesn’t tell us who placed the gun there in the first place.”

“Actually,” Pinkie jumped in, “there was something else in the drawer with the gun, or more accurately, something wasn’t there. The other day we found a diamond ring in that same drawer, when I found the gun, the ring was missing from the box.”

“So the killer took a ring,” Soarin repeated, “why?”

“No idea,” Pinkie admitted, “but I did find the ring. It had been hidden inside a book in the library.”

“Which book?” Fleur asked, Pinkie looked over at her, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Advanced Chess Playing,” Pinkie stated, Fleur’s eyes went wide with realisation. “That’s right, the book you were reading yesterday, at the desk you were reading at.”

“I didn’t take that ring,” Fleur insisted, “more to the point, how do you hide a ring in a book?”

“There was a hole cut out of the pages,” Pinkie explained.

“Well would it help if I recited every word I read?” Fleur asked, sounding fully prepared to do so.

“That won’t be necessary,” Trixie interrupted, “It wouldn’t prove anything as you could easily have cut the hole in the pages after reading them.”

“Well there is somepony else who might have taken the ring,” Pinkie pointed out, looking over at Redheart. “Redheart, you were the one who found the ring originally and took an interest in it.”

“Only because it reminded me of what was outside this place,” Redheart argued, “I had no reason to take it.”

“Maybe not,” Pinkie began, “however, when I was helping you examine Vinyl’s body, I found something interesting in the medical bag.” Redheart’s eyebrow raised in confusion. “Some fragments of purple glass, from Vinyl’s glasses which had had one lens broken.”

“Well I don’t know how that got in there,” Redheart insisted, “maybe one of my tools accidentally picked it up.”

“Well I decided to go look around the alchemy lab,” Pinkie continued, ignoring Redheart’s protest. “And I searched the drawers where you got all your equipment from. I didn’t find anything at first, but while I was searching the morphine drawer, I came across this…”

Pinkie pulled out the piece of the painting, unfolding it for everypony to see.

“Is that the missing piece of Orchid’s painting?” Fleur asked, Pinkie nodded. “I noticed it had been desecrated during the investigation, and you found that in the lab?”

“Yes,” Pinkie confirmed, “stuffed under the drawer for morphine, of which only one bottle was taken, and is currently possessed by Redheart.”

“I didn’t touch that painting!” Redheart exclaimed.

“Actually, I think she’s telling the truth,” Soarin interrupted. “I was in the room with that painting this morning before we were called to the crime scene, and it hadn’t been torn then. Whoever removed that piece must have done it after we all saw the body, and I’m sure Redheart must have had that morphine in her bag before she arrived on scene.”

“Thank you,” Redheart said relieved.

“Fair point,” Pinkie admitted, “however, I decided to pay a visit to Orchid’s crypt upon seeing this. Where I found this inside his empty sarcophagus.”

Pinkie pulled out the pink hair, holding it out for everypony to see.

“I don’t get it, what am I looking at?” Soarin asked nonplussed.

“It’s a pink hair,” Pinkie explained, “and it matches the shade of both Redheart and Fleur.”

“Yes, it does now,” Fleur argued, “but the colour could have easily faded, meaning it was originally closer to your shade of pink.”

“True,” Pinkie admitted, “but it’s too straight to be mine.”

“I don’t think a single hair is what I would consider to be solid evidence,” Trixie pointed out.

“Actually Trixie, that reminds me,” Pinkie jumped in, “yesterday you said you were at the crypt.”

“Yes, so?” Trixie asked, uninterested.

“Well the first time you and I went there,” Pinkie continued, “I opened the crypt door using a pressure pad, which you never knew about.” Indeed Trixie’s eyes widened at this revelation. “You thought it was your magic that opened it. So then how did you get inside the crypt yesterday if you didn’t know how to open it?”

“Trixie…” Trixie began; blushing at finding out it wasn’t her magical prowess that opened the tomb. “Trixie found the crypt open when she arrived.”

“It was already open?” Pinkie repeated, surprised.

“Yes, Trixie just assumed we had forgotten to close it after our last visit,” she responded.

“Alright then,” Pinkie began again, abandoning that train of thought. “Well after I left the crypt, I went back to the gym to take another look at the skeleton. However when I got there, the trunk had been moved and the skeleton was taken.”

“Yes, I discovered that too just before we were called to the trial,” Trixie explained.

“Really, only then?” Pinkie asked, pulling the torn piece of Trixie’s cape from her bag. “Because I found this caught in the trunk. Look familiar?”

“That’s from my cape!” Trixie shouted, outraged. “Who dares defile my majestic attire?!”

“You mean to say you weren’t wearing the cape when you stole the skeleton?” Pinkie pushed.

“No,” Trixie said plainly, “Trixie hasn’t worn that cape since the first day, and even if I had been wearing it, I would never have allowed it to get torn.”

Wow, she sounds almost like Rarity when she talks about her cape.

“So where is the skeleton now?” Fleur asked, concerned.

“I don’t know,” Trixie admitted, “Trixie didn’t have time to look for it before we were called back to the entrance hall.”

“Actually I did find it,” Pinkie announced. “It’s hidden in the dining room ceiling, in that hole left by the chandelier.”

“How on earth did it get up there?” Redheart asked, amazed.

“I had thought somepony went through Cloudchaser’s room, like Gizmo had,” Pinkie explained, “but after taking the door off the hinges like we did for the sixteenth room, I figured out that would have been impossible. That means it could only have been put up there using magic or wings.”

“It wasn’t me,” Soarin said quickly.

“Actually Soarin,” Pinkie interrupted, “you were in the gym yesterday weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Soarin admitted, “but I didn’t touch that box or the bones in it.”

“This makes no sense!” Fleur gave off, sounding uncharacteristically angry. “There must be a dozen pieces of evidence that implicate one or two of us while assuring the innocence of the others.”

She’s right, we’re going around in circles… doing exactly what the Mastermind wants us too…

“Do you give up?” the Mastermind asked suddenly, “It looked to me like you’re struggling.”

“We’re not giving up!” Pinkie shouted at the screen opposite her.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve hit dead end after dead end,” the Mastermind continued, “Almost like you’ve learnt nothing…”

You haven’t learnt anything…

Pinkie froze, as the voices began blurring together.

What have I learnt? Despite how unrelated things may seem, there can be hidden connections, I just have to look for them. I can’t assume somepony is guilty until I have all the facts. There’s often more to something than meets the eye, more factors at play that you wouldn’t see if you didn’t look at the big picture. A pony’s background and situation can tell you a lot about them, and to really understand what a pony is capable of you first have to understand the pony.

You have the knowledge… you just need to apply it…

Pinkie looked around at the other four ponies who were looking at her expectantly, even now after she had stood and accused them all they still hoped she would pull some magic solution out of her mane.

Lesson number two… don’t assume ponies are guilty before having all the facts. That’s all I’ve done today, every step I take, everything I find, I’m not thinking how it fits into the grand scheme of things, all I’m thinking of is who I can justifiably point my hoof at.

“I’m sorry everypony,” Pinkie whispered, the others all stared in confusion at her. “This whole time I’ve been so torn up over Vinyl and Twilight and everypony else that I’ve jumped at every opportunity to accuse one of you. But I forgot that in all the cases before this, we succeeded because we worked together. So for that I’m sorry.”

“Pinkie, you never had anything to be sorry for,” Fleur assured her, “we’ve all been through a lot, we all have a breaking point.”

“Yeah, even if you’ve reached yours, we’re not turning our backs on you,” Soarin assured her.

“How could we?” Redheart stated, “if it wasn’t for you, none of us would have made it this far.”

They all looked to Trixie, as if expecting her to jump in. Upon noticing all eyes were on her, Trixie reluctantly spoke up.

“Trixie respects your dedication to justice,” Trixie said flatly, a faint hint of sincerity present. “Even if you unjustly accuse Trixie, she knows you only have the best intentions.”

“Thanks everypony,” Pinkie said appreciatively, a massive weight lifting from her shoulders.

“Yes how lovely,” the Mastermind interrupted, “shame it doesn’t actually help you in any way.”

“Actually…” Pinkie began, looking up at the screen opposite her, a winning smile on her face.

Lesson number three… more to something than meets the eye. Well too bad for you, Mastermind, we just laid out the big picture for all to see.

“I knew something was wrong all day,” Pinkie began. “The bone conveniently fallen to the dining room floor, the piece of the painting miraculously being in the one place I thought to search, the ring in the one book that mysteriously caught my eye.”

“You’re point being?” the Mastermind asked, sounding bored.

“All day I’ve been finding evidence suggesting one of my friends was guilty,” Pinkie continued, “most of which was far too convenient to be a mere coincidence. So I put it to you, that you, the Mastermind have been intentionally sabotaging our investigation by planting false evidence everywhere.”

“You think I would play dirty?” the Mastermind said, sounding appalled. “Why ever would I do such a thing?”

“Because it’s you isn’t it?” Pinkie replied, “And not just pulling the strings like you did with Blueblood, you actively carried out the murder.”

“Why would I kill Vinyl Scratch?” the Mastermind asked dully, “What would I possibly gain from that?”

“Silence,” Pinkie answered, “Vinyl got through the stairs, didn’t she? Today I found dust on them. Every trial when the stairs descend, they shoot fresh dust up, and every time, the dust is always cleared the next day. If there was fresh dust on the stairs, that means they moved, so Vinyl could have gone down there and found your secret room. I don’t know what’s in there, but no doubt after Vinyl had seen it, you couldn’t let her live. So you killed her directly and proceeded to plant false evidence in order to distract us from the truth.”

“Very clever!” the Mastermind exclaimed, sounding impressed. “And all because you found a little dust on a step, you continue to impress me Pinkie Pie.”

“So you admit it?” Fleur asked in disbelief. “You killed Vinyl.”

“Yes, I admit it,” the Mastermind confirmed, “Miss Scratch stumbled upon my little secrets, making her a liability. It was her own fault really.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t lure her there with the message from Trixie?” Pinkie asked sceptically, “even though you could have sent it from any of the hoof computers you took from the deceased.”

“Caught out again!” the Mastermind exclaimed, almost joyfully, “Yes, I believed Vinyl was getting too close for comfort, so I decided to let her see what lay beyond the stairs on my own terms… and you all saw how that ended for her.”

“So we know who killed Vinyl,” Redheart said, “that means we win right?”

“I guess you do,” the Mastermind stated, sounding disappointed, “Just go ahead and turn you dials to… oh wait! You can’t because you need to know who I am, or have you forgotten since the third trial?”

So that’s the real mystery here, Vinyl’s murder was just a red herring…

“Come now,” Trixie announced, “it’s obvious that the Mastermind is Orchid the Omnipotent. Missing from his grave, capable of outstanding feats of magic, it has to be him!”

“Actually I think it might Blossomforth,” Redheart proposed, “think about it, we know she was here, but none of us have seen head or tail of her.”

“Come on guys, this has Discord written all over it,” Soarin insisted, “I know you said he never killed ponies, but he did say himself that not killing lead to overpopulation, maybe he rethought his stance on it.”

“I think it’s far more likely that one of us is the Mastermind,” Fleur suggested, “It would allow them to work closely alongside us, directing us as they desired.”

No… I don’t believe it’s any of them.

Pinkie rested her forehooves on the bench in front of her, hanging her head as she allowed her mind to wonder.

Lesson number one… things are connected, despite seeming insignificant.

Pinkie thought back over the last two weeks, everything she’s seen flashing before her mind’s eye.

Feathers… Missing ponies… surgical tools…

Could it be…

Purple paint… shampoo bottles… a faded pink hair…

No…

Broken bones… an expensive trunk… letters…

It can’t be…

A secluded manor owned by the crown…

Impossible!

Pinkie looked up slowly, ignoring the still debating ponies around her, looking up to the silent screen opposite her. After a few second the others began catching on to her own silence, falling quiet as well, looking at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Well?” the Mastermind asked expectantly.

“There’s only one pony who could have done all this…” Pinkie began, her voice weak. “One of the sixteen…”

“So you believe I am Blossomforth?” the Mastermind stated.

“No… not Blossomforth,” Pinkie replied, her voice shaking now.

“Ah, so you agree with Fleur that I am someone in this room?”

Pinkie shook her head slowly, swallowing hard. “We both know you aren’t.”

“Well, I fail to see who else I could possibly be,” the Mastermind said, feigning ignorance. “Everypony else is dead.”

“No… not everypony,” Pinkie said, almost in a whisper, “Not you… not really…

“Twilight Sparkle.”

The room fell into a deathly silence, the other four ponies staring in disbelief at Pinkie. But Pinkie never took her eyes off the screen in front of her.

“And what…” the Mastermind began calmly, “Would give you an idea like that?”

“For starters” Pinkie began, her voice gaining a little strength as she entered back into swing of the trial. “You said as we came down here that this manor suited your purposes, that you realised that the first time you visited it. In the letter Twilight received from 'Luna', it said the Arcane Manor was owned by the crown. Twilight as a princess would have access to it, and whoever set all this up would need a long time to prepare.

“Secondly, the letters themselves,” Pinkie continued, “They were all written in the same style, a style known as the pre-Discord Era style of writing. This style became obsolete over a thousand years ago because of the way it was written caused it to fade quicker over time. Who in this day and age would write in that style? Somepony whose teacher was over a thousand years old perhaps.

“Next, there’s the shield stopping us from leaving the grounds as well as all the magic and enchantments we’ve encountered. Twilight’s magic is purple, but as we already clarified, the most powerful unicorns can alter their colour, perhaps even use multiple colours. Twilight was the element of magic, and an alicorn, I don’t doubt she could be capable of doing this. Also her brother was a master when it came to magical shields; hence Twilight could have learnt from the best how to erect that one outside.

“Next is our first day, according to the recording we saw, we were the first to arrive. So if Twilight had just pretended to fall unconscious, she would have been able to dispose of me in the dining room and take care of the others as they arrived. As well this, the first two times the Mastermind spoke to us, we all talked at some point or another, all of us except Twilight. She was the only one of the original fifteen not to open her mouth during your initial speeches.

“Finally,” Pinkie concluded, “How Twilight faked her death. That one’s easy, Blossomforth had her coat dyed purple in the master bathroom, and had the horn from Orchid’s skeleton surgically attached to her in the morgue. Blueblood mentioned how Orchid’s horn was female sized, combine this with Blossomforth already being Twilight’s shape and size as well as having her mane cut, she made the perfect patsy.

“And let’s not forget the trunk Orchid’s skeleton was kept in. At the time I thought it looked like something belonging to a pony from Canterlot, and I was sure I’d seen it before. That’s because that trunk belongs to Twilight, I saw her with it when she first moved to Ponyville from Canterlot. Not to mention Twilight was able to use magic to hide the skeleton in the dining room ceiling and use the gun on Vinyl, and the pink hair could have come from the streak in her mane.”

Pinkie exhaled when she finally finished, she felt weak.

“That’s all I have,” she said after a minute of stunned silence, “I believe that you, Twilight Sparkle, are the Mastermind!”

The silence stretched on… and on. Pinkie was beginning to fear she was entirely wrong, until at last the Mastermind spoke.

“Well done…”

The screen opposite Pinkie flickered off as a bright purple light exploded down onto the alcove beneath it. Pinkie was forced to shield her eyes from the light along with the others, until it was dispelled by a pair of wings snapping open, brushing the light aside as if it were smoke.

Pinkie removed her hoof from in front of her eyes, and looked over at the mare opposite her. Twilight looked… perfect, regally posed, her wings framing her, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile, her eyes…

Pinkie had to glance down, looking into her friend’s eyes made her feel dizzy, like she was diving into deep, dark pools.

“Congratulations Pinkie,” Twilight announced, “You did it.”

No, no, no, it can’t be!

Pinkie shook, true she had deduced this, but in her heart she had refused to believe it, refused to believe that her friend, Twilight Sparkle was responsible for the deaths of ten ponies.

“It’s okay Pinkie,” Twilight said softly, “you won, you don’t have to look so sad.”

“Why?” Pinkie whispered, her voice trembling.

“Pardon?” Twilight said, her ear perking up.

“Why?” Pinkie repeated, louder this time, but the shake in her voice made her impossible to decipher.

“You’re really going to have to speak up,” Twilight said kindly.

“WHY?!”

Pinkie looked around in surprise; it wasn’t her that had shouted. Trixie stood, her hooves planted on the bench in front of her, but threatening to give out at any second due to violent shakes wracking her body. Her face was twisted in an expression of agony and fury, her eyes streaming with tears.

“It can’t be you, it just can’t!” Trixie screamed, “I idolised you! I worshiped you! Everything I did was for you… to avenge you! It can’t be you... It… it just…”

Trixie’s words failed her, as she collapsed to the ground, sobbing her heart out. Pinkie felt her own heart break for her.

This whole time I thought you just didn’t care… that you felt nothing. But you were just trying to be strong… for her.

Looking back up Pinkie was shocked to see Twilight wasn’t even looking at Trixie, instead focusing her gaze on herself.

“Why did you do this?” Pinkie asked again, stronger this time.

“You mean you still haven’t figured it out?” Twilight asked half surprised. “It’s you Pinkie Pie!”

Pinkie froze as Twilight’s statement hit her.

“Don’t you see?” Twilight asked, “This whole thing was a test… for you.”

“A test?!” Pinkie repeated in disbelief and no short amount of horror. “You had ponies kill each other to test me?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’d say you scored top marks,” Twilight said, as if that justified it all.

Pinkie Pie felt like she was about to have an aneurysm, thankfully she was saved from this by Fleur snapping out of her paralysis and stepping into the conversation.

“Forgive me princess, but I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” she said, her voice quavering.

“Ah Fleur, I’m glad you made it this far,” Twilight said, as if only noticing the others in the room. “You’re quite close to Celestia, I’m sure she would have been disappointed in me if you hadn’t made it out of here.”

“Does… Does Princess Celestia know about this?” Fleur asked, sounding terrified.

“Oh heavens no,” Twilight assured her, “I doubt she would see eye to eye with me regarding this.”

“So what was the point?!” Pinkie demanded. “How does any of this test me?!”

“Oh Pinkie,” Twilight said blissfully, turning her attention back to Pinkie, “I’ve waited for this day for so long, to finally be able to express myself. I knew there was something different about you the first time I saw you, you… intrigued me. The more I got to know you, the more my curiosity grew. I’ve been able to understand things, but you… you’re an enigma; you can do things nopony can. But beneath the silly exterior I’ve seen flashes of pure genius in you; I always knew you were destined for great things.

“When I ascended to the rank of princess, I became even more convinced that you and I were brought together for a purpose, that side by side we could do monumental things. However it wasn’t until recently that I began to seriously consider the possibility of taking you under my wing, of helping you the way Celestia once helped me, guiding you along the path to become my equal. But I needed to be sure; I needed to know you were everything I expected of you. So for the last several months I have been meticulously planning the ultimate trial, to test your true intelligence in the most trying circumstances.

“And you did better than I could ever have hoped,” Twilight continued, sounding euphoric. “Every trial the came your way, you overcame it. Every murder solved, every mystery unravelled, time after time you displayed unparalleled levels of deduction and intellect. And now, here today, you solved the final puzzle I could throw at you, the identity of the Mastermind. I am… so proud of you Pinkie.”

Pinkie just stared at Twilight, her mind screaming in protest at what she was being told.

All those ponies dead… all the pain and suffering everypony’s been through… all because Twilight wanted to see if I was smart enough to figure it out!

“I understand this is a lot to take in Pinkie,” Twilight said sympathetically, “but don’t think about the ponies that didn’t make it, they will forever be remembered for the role they played in your rise. Instead think about what this means for the future, you and I will be together, best friends to the end of time. No matter what’s happened, I’m still your friend, I still care about you. After all, I was always helping you in whatever small ways I could without giving myself away, whether it be through showing you the controls to the air conditioning, or convincing Vinyl she already spoke to you this morning in order to give you a lie in.”

Pinkie still didn’t respond, she felt hollow; she felt like her very existence had brought misery to those around her. But that couldn’t be, her special talent was making ponies smile, making them happy, that’s what she lived for. Now she was being told that because of her, ten ponies were dead. Pinkie wanted to curl up and cry, but she couldn’t even bring herself to do that.

“How did this happen?” Soarin asked, his voice devoid of emotion. “This stuff just doesn’t happen in Equestria.”

“It is a lot to take on board,” Twilight admitted, “and it certainly hasn’t been easy for me to carry all this out. Blossomforth alone was a pain to deal with. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect her to put up the fight she did when I came to collect her. Which reminds me…”

Twilight’s horn flashed and Pinkie saw from the corner of her eye the screen which once displayed Twilight’s face, change to show Blossomforth’s face, greyscale with a red X through it. The screen behind Twilight now displayed her own face in full colour.

“But hang on,” Redheart interrupted desperately, “this doesn’t make sense. How did you know Doughnut Joe would try to kill you first? If your plan hinged on you getting out of the way early, it left a lot to chance.”

“If you’re good at anticipating the pony mind,” Twilight began with a confident smirk, “it leaves nothing to chance.”

The room was utterly silent apart from Trixie’s continuing sobs. Giving a weary glance around, Pinkie saw the other three were hardly any better, displaying mixed looks betrayal and disillusionment.

“Now, I guess this just leaves one more thing,” Twilight announced, drawing Pinkie’s attention to the dials which were now glowing. “Of course, I will stay true to my word. If you all convict and kill me, you are free to go… bearing in mind that duress is not a defence for murder, and you will all be arrested and punished for the four ponies you had executed.

“Or, you can forfeit the game here and now. All the evidence of what occurred in this place will be destroyed and you will be allowed to live your lives, free from guilt and scorn. You won’t be free of course; I can’t risk you telling ponies of my involvement in this. No, you will be kept away from the world, secluded until Pinkie is ready to take her place at my side over Equestria.”

Pinkie looked around at the others; they all looked like shells of their former selves.

“It’s for the best,” Twilight continued in a motherly tone, “you’ll never be able to live normal lives again anyway. You’d never be able to return to your friends and families, when they hear about the things you’ve done, they’ll reject you, loathe you. I’m offering you the opportunity to live free of that, to let your loved ones remember you the way you were before you came here, isn’t that better for you? For them?”

Maybe she’s right… how can I face Flitter and tell her I sentenced her sister to death? How can I face anypony after this?

Pinkie slumped to her knees, but she felt her consciousness fall much farther, slipping into the dark depths of despair. All around her she saw the ponies she failed to save, fade away into the inky blackness, until she was all alone… but she wasn’t alone, Twilight was there. Her friend, Twilight Sparkle was still there for her. Pinkie wanted nothing more than to throw herself upon Twilight, to accept her offer, to be her friend forever and let all this go.

Pinkie wanted to do that, but somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice was struggling to make itself heard.

So here you are again… ready to give up… ready to let down those you promised to save…

What am I supposed to do? Even if I could oppose Twilight, the others won’t… you were right, the Mastermind wins.

Where’s that excitable, fun loving Pinkie Pie I know? The one who lived to make other ponies smile.

Gone.

I don’t believe that. You made a promise that you wouldn’t change… I believe you’ll keep that promise.

Pinkie looked up, a sudden warmth growing in her chest as the voice spoke.

Tell me how…

Pinkie slowly rose to her hooves as Twilight watched her expectantly, waiting for a response. But Pinkie was also waiting for a response. Time seemed to stretch to an eternity as she waited for the voice; she began to fear it had left her again, and that she was to face this alone, until…

Give them hope.

Pinkie nodded, new determination burning inside of her as she looked Twilight squarely in the eye.

“Sorry, but I’m not forfeiting!” Pinkie announced, causing Twilight’s eyes to widen in surprise.

Lesson number four… know the pony.

Pinkie looked over at Soarin who was still standing with his shoulders slumped.

“Soarin,” Pinkie declared loudly, gaining his attention. “Remember the Wonderbolts' creed, the protection of all Equestria’s citizens. You told us you joined the Wonderbolt’s because you believed in that oath you took. You told me about how a friend once stayed loyal to you, well now it’s your turn to be the loyal one. Stay true to what you swore and protect Equestria’s citizens from her!”

The effect was instantaneous; it was as if the doubt had been washed away from his mind, replaced by newfound strength and determination.

“You’re right Pinkie,” Soarin replied, his voicing brimming with confidence, standing tall. “I have to do what’s right, even if I know I’ll be punished for it.”

With that he reached forward and turned his dial, Twilight’s face appearing on the screen behind him.

“Now hang on a second…” Twilight began, sounding a little confused by the direction things were heading in.

“Redheart,” Pinkie interrupted, drawing the nurse’s attention. “You told me you became a nurse to help ponies, well how do you expect to do that if you spend the rest of your life locked away? If you really feel responsible for what we’ve done, I can’t make you believe otherwise, but you can seek redemption in helping others. Besides, you made a promise to Cloudchaser; Flitter’s going to need somepony there for her now.”

Again the dark atmosphere around her was dispelled, and Redheart stood with newfound optimism.

“Of course Pinkie,” Redheart said sounding relieved. “I can’t hide from what I’ve done, but I might be able to make amends.”

Redheart too reached out and turned her dial, Twilight’s face also appearing behind her.

“This isn’t how I anticipated…” Twilight began to say again, sounding slightly panicked now.

“Fleur,” Pinkie cut across, getting Fleur’s gaze. “You’ve gone through a lot in your life; you’ve experienced more loss than anypony I know. But despite everything thrown at you, you had ponies watching over you, giving you their love and sometimes even their lives to see you through the hardships. You’ve come so far; don’t let all those sacrifices be in vain. Leave this place, go back to the land that welcomed you when you needed a home, and I promise they won’t turn their backs on you.”

The despair shattered around Fleur like glass, leaving hope in its place.

“Pinkie…” she began looking touched, before just smiling and letting her eyes close. “You’re right… as always.”

She too reached out and turned her dial, Twilight’s face manifesting behind her.

“Alright, now this is just getting…” Twilight attempted again, beginning to sound a little frustrated this time.

“Trixie,” Pinkie said cutting Twilight off once again. Trixie didn’t look up, she had long since ceased her crying, but she still lay crumpled on the floor, her head hanging low. Pinkie continued cautiously. “Trixie, I understand how you feel… to have someone you care about, more than words can express, turn on you. You do so much for them, and inside you still want to believe the pony you still loved is somewhere in there. But Trixie, you and I both have to accept that that pony is not the Twilight Sparkle we cared about, that pony’s gone. But we still have a duty to them, to preserve their memory, and… help set them free.”

Trixie didn’t respond, she didn’t even move, and Pinkie was beginning to dread that she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. However, Pinkie noticed a faint hue around Trixie’s horn, so weak it could have been imagined, but then Trixie’s dial began to turn, slowly but surely. After a few agonisingly drawn out moment, Trixie’s horn extinguished, and the screen behind her flashed into life, displaying Twilight’s face.

Pinkie turned to Twilight, who was looking back at her in disbelief.

“Why Pinkie?” she asked, sounding like Pinkie had just driven a knife into her back. “All I wanted was for us to be friends forever.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Pinkie replied sadly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, or what made you this way, but I do know… that I owe it to the Twilight I remember, to put a stop to you.”

Pinkie reached out with her forehoof.

“I’m so sorry Twilight,” she whispered, before turning the dial.

The screens all blanked, the oh so familiar ‘GUILTY’ screen appearing behind Twilight, beginning it’s slow rotation around the room, quickly picking up speed until it was nothing more than a blur.

“This…” Twilight began, her whole body shaking, looking like she was about to split apart. “This… Isn’t… Happening!”

The screen began slowing down, reaching an agonisingly slow pace. It clicked over Trixie’s head, it clicked over Trenderhoof’s screen, it clicked over Blueblood’s screen, and it came to a stop over Twilight’s screen. Immediately the usual fanfare began blaring out, but Pinkie didn’t hear it. All sound began fading out, the entire room washing away until she stood in an infinite plane of white, all alone but for the alicorn standing several metres from her.

Twilight stood in the endless abyss, her hooves apart, her wings limp, her head hanging down, what little of her face Pinkie could have seen, obscured by her mane.

“I thought,” Twilight began, her voice echoing around the endless void. “You were the one. I thought you were my equal, the one pony to stand by my side against the ever changing world…”

Twilight looked up at Pinkie, revealing her face… which was smiling, her eyes shiny with tears.

“I was wrong…” she said, her voice sounding intimately familiar, “You were so much more.”

Pinkie didn’t even have time to open her mouth before the world snapped back into focus around her, the courtroom rematerializing, just in time for her to feel the trembling running throughout the entire building.

The first thing that caught Pinkie’s eye was the dial in front of her. It was as if the glow that had previously been enveloping it had come to life, pulling itself free of the dial and rippling through the air towards Twilight. All the other dials did likewise, as did the runes on the floor. Soon there were dozens of multihued streams speeding towards Twilight. As soon as the first connected, it was like a punch to the stomach for Twilight, whose whole body jolted and the magic forced its way inside her.

Twilight began convulsing and twitching violently as more and more of the magic entered her. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and blood began running from her orifices. Pinkie knew what was happening; it was the very thing Redheart had diagnosed on their first day when Twilight tried to teleport, magic overload. It appeared all the spells Twilight had cast on the manor were turning back on her. And that meant…

Pinkie turned around just in time to flatten herself to the ground and brace herself against the magical wave that came pummelling through the archway. Pinkie held onto the banister in front of her for dear life, hoping the others were surviving against the churning ocean of mystic energy. Pinkie could feel it clinging to her, threatening to drag her away, to rip her to shreds. It was becoming near impossible to breath as the magic that once formed the shield and illusions around the house came pouring into this tiny enclosed space.

“PINKIE!” a voice shouted. Pinkie glanced around trying to place where it had come from, it had sounded so tiny amidst the all the screeching. Pinkie wondered if the magic was more comparable to a flood or a hurricane.

Eventually, Pinkie began to feel the pressure abate slightly, as the storm ran out of fuel. A few minutes later she was able to open her eyes to see the final wisps of magic flow overhead. Standing up, slowly as her limbs felt weak beneath her, Pinkie turned around. Despite the immense physical presence of the magic, the room looked pristine, no different from how it did before the execution begun.

What really drew Pinkie’s eyes however, was the body lying in a crumpled heap on the opposite end of the room. Rushing forward, barely aware the runes keeping her locked in position were now gone, Pinkie dashed over to where Twilight’s body lay, falling to her knees beside it.

Twilight’s body was horrible, her horn frayed and scorched, her eyes now scarlet orbs, the blood running down her face like waterfalls. Her entire body was cracked and torn, causing her to resemble a dried riverbed.

Pinkie didn’t look up when she heard hoofsteps approaching, but she knew it was Fleur when she spoke.

“Pinkie…” she began, her voice weak, “we should go.”

Pinkie nodded, she didn’t want to leave Twilight. Despite everything that had happened, she was still her friend, and she deserved more than this. But Pinkie knew she had to fulfil the promise she’d made to Lightning Dust, to herself, and see the others to safety.

Standing up slowly, Pinkie turned to look at the others. Neither Soarin or Redheart looked happy at winning the game, Pinkie knew they just wanted to leave. Fleur was the same, but she was waiting on Pinkie. Finally there was Trixie, who impossibly still hadn’t moved after she passed her vote, despite the force of the magic flooding into the room all around her.

“Go ahead,” Pinkie said to Fleur, gesturing to Trixie.

Fleur understood what Pinkie intended, and with a nod began walking out of the room, indicating for Soarin and Redheart to follow her. Once they were alone, Pinkie walked over to Trixie and crouched down next to her. She didn’t say anything, just waited for Trixie to speak in her own time.

“I envied her,” she finally said, her voice hoarse, “at first. She was everything I ever aspired to be, talented, successful, popular. I thought I hated her because of it, but even when she proved herself to be the bigger mare and forgave me for everything I did, I knew… she was the pony I aspired to be. We stayed in contact, I told her of my journeys, of my attempts to become stronger, to become wiser. She became my first true friend. Every day after I left, I wanted to return, to beg her to teach me, to nurture me. When she was coronetted, she didn’t see me but I was there, at the front of the crowd cheering like a lunatic. I would have given anything to be a fraction of what she was. But… clearly I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Trixie,” Pinkie said calmly, “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Trixie looked up at Pinkie in confusion. “I know all about the letters you sent Twilight, she showed every one of them to us, to show us how much you’d come since we last saw you. The way she read them… I knew she was proud of you.”

Tears threatened to spill out of Trixie’s eyes, but she clenched them shut, determined not to let them fall.

“Thank you Pinkie…” Trixie said quietly, “you’re a good friend.”

They both stood up slowly, Pinkie having to help Trixie a little who was also finding herself a little wobbly on her hooves.

“Are you ready to go?” Pinkie asked.

“One minute,” Trixie said, walking past Pinkie to Twilight’s body.

Pinkie watched as Trixie leaned down over Twilight, whispering something she couldn’t hear. After a minute or two, Trixie finally returned to Pinkie, giving a small nod to indicate she was ready to leave. Together the pair walked out of the courtroom, ascending the staircase to where the other three waited at the still wide open doors in the entrance hall. As the pair joined them, they wordlessly stepped out the door and began making their way to the iron gates where this had all begun.

As they walked, they looked to the west, where the sun was half obscured by the horizon, the last light of the day radiating across the sky.

“Sunset…” Soarin said, sounding relieved. “I could watch it for ever.”

“It won’t last forever,” Pinkie commented.

The twilight couldn’t last forever…

As Pinkie watched the setting sun, her mind swam back to the final words Twilight said to her, in the voice she knew to belong to real Twilight, the one that had been speaking to her in her mind.

You were always there, deep down. The real you was helping me all along.

Pinkie smiled sadly, turning her gaze away as the sun set and the twilight came to an end.

Author's Note

The title of this chapter is a tribute to one of my all time favourite stories, let alone fanfictions.
First mention should of course go to Thesoulian, for correctly commenting quite a while back the identity of the Mastermind, I'm not even sure he was being serious at the time but too bad, he will accept this honour of being the first to correctly guess it whether he likes it or not.
Next, Shade7 for correctly figuring out Blossomforth was actually the first victim and by extension who the Mastermind was, such a shame I 'accidentally' deleted his comment.
And the last horse to cross the finish line is ClickClackTheBrony who came down on the correct culprit.
And now for the hardcore detectives...
Firstly we have Doppler Effect who did figure out the Twilight/Blossomforth connection... but then his theory went right off a cliff when he brought in Chrysalis and a mind controlled Pinkie Pie who killed Vinyl. So despite his theory being very hit and miss, I had to give him some credit for having figured out quite a few correct details, as well as devising his own very creative and highly plausible solution which I almost regret not thinking of myself.
And last but not least, we have Maple Leaf, who pretty much ticked every box and was the closest to being 100% right, even offering an interesting personal interpretation into Twilight's possible motives and psyche, if there was a first place prize, it would go to Maple Leaf, very well done.
An epilogue will be released shortly to clarify some things, as well as allow me to thank my readers.

Epilogue: Game Over

It had felt so easy at the time… dishing out motivational speeches… turning a dial… all so easy. Maybe it was because it was just a game to them, all so surreal, all so inexplicable, it was easy to believe that everything was going to be sunshine and daisies when they had become so desensitised to the idea of real life consequences. But that was exactly it, games have do overs and retries, real life only has consequences, ramifications of actions bound to a pony's conscience.

The last few weeks had given Pinkie Pie a lot of time to think about what had happened at the Arcane Manor, not helped by the fact that she had been made to recount every detail countless times to countless different ponies. Through all the thoughts clouding her mind, this one had been the most prominent.

It wasn’t a game… it was easy because it felt like a game… but it wasn’t. They’re all dead… and they aren’t coming back.

“I think…” the stallion sitting across from Pinkie began, flicking through his notes. “We have everything we need here.”

“Thank you detective,” Princess Celestia said, approaching from where she had been sitting quietly to the side.

“Will this actually be the last interview?” the other mare in the room asked sceptically, she was the specialist appointed to monitor Pinkie’s mental wellbeing. “I don’t believe Pinkie can begin to make any real improvement so long as she’s constantly being forced to relive this experience.”

“As long as everything matches up, we shouldn’t need to bother Miss Pie any further,” the detective assured them sympathetically.

“It has been a trialling number of weeks for everypony involved,” Celestia interjected, “hopefully we can begin to bring this matter to a close.”

“I will see myself out Princess,” the detective said, standing up and levitating all his files. “I bid you all a good day.”

With that he gave a curt bow, before leaving Celestia’s private study, the guards at the door eying him like hawks as he did.

“How are you feeling Pinkie?” the mare asked, leaning down to where Pinkie sat in a large armchair. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Pinkie lied, her voice quiet.

The mare nodded, and excused herself, following the detective from the room. Pinkie’s eyes followed her, briefly scanning the room in which she sat. It was most unorthodox for any sort of meeting to take place in the princess’s own study, let alone taking a witness statement for a murder investigation. But naturally due to the high profile nature of the case, the princess had been monitoring it very closely, opting to maintain a close watch on all the survivors. However as Pinkie observed the room she now sat in, there was only one thought in her mind.

I wonder if Twilight ever studied in here…

“Gentlecolts, if you could grant us some privacy,” Celestia said to the pair of guards posted at the door. She made it sound like a request, but Pinkie knew there was no disobeying.

As the both marched from the room, the door closing behind them, Celestia went about returning the furniture they had been using for the interview to their original places, while bringing over another armchair which she positioned directly opposite Pinkie.

“You must be looking forward to getting back to Ponyville,” Celestia said, breaking the uncomfortable silence as she sat down in the armchair.

“I…” Pinkie began before trailing off.

“I know your friends will be especially glad to see you,” Celestia continued, “Rainbow Dash was here again today, it took half a dozen guards to stop her from bursting in here.”

“Thank you,” Pinkie whispered.

She loved her friends dearly, and wanted nothing more than to cling to them and never let go, but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to face them. On the one hand she could confide in them the truth of what occurred, that their friend organised the deaths of ten ponies and that she, Pinkie Pie, sentenced that friend to death. On the other hand she could live by the lie Celestia had weaved to explain to the public what became of their latest princess, that the whole thing was a terrible accident involving experimental magic. Her friends would never have to know the terrible truth, they’d be able to remember Twilight the way she was, but Pinkie would be forced to bare the truth on her own, and she didn’t know if she had the strength for that.

The pair sat in awkward silence for several minutes, Celestia was clearly not accustomed to making small talk, and Pinkie wasn’t in the best state of mind for doing so. While waiting for Celestia to make her next statement, Pinkie’s mind drifted back as it had a habit of doing recently, this time she was remembering what happened after they left the manor. They had only been walking for a brief period when they were discovered and picked up by one of the many roaming search and rescue parties that had been looking for them.

They had been rushed to Canterlot; nopony had been able to prize a word out of them regarding what had happened or where they had been. Whether it had been due to fear of the punishment or refusal to relive it, they had tried to remain silent for as long as possible. However once Celestia and Luna heard of their discovery, the truth didn’t remain secret for much longer. And thus began the agonising long period of investigation, in which they were poked and probed, interviewed time and time again, even dragged back to the manor while it was being stripped down for evidence to point out exactly where what happened.

Soarin had been given leave from the Wonderbolt’s, although he insisted he didn’t need time off. Pinkie knew he wanted nothing more than to drown out all the pain, to fly and perform and pretend it had never happened. Redheart wanted nothing more than to get back to Ponyville, to see her fiancé and fulfil her promise to Cloudchaser. But she was being kept put in Canterlot until the obligatory psychological evaluations declared her safe to leave. On the note of Flitter, Pinkie had heard the direct relatives of the victims had been fed the lie, and Flitter with no other family to look after her, was forced into a care programme.

Fleur was a different matter; Pinkie didn’t doubt she had used her relationship with Celestia to ensure her stay at her own home with her husband Fancy Pants. Beyond that Pinkie hadn’t seen or heard anything of her, she suspected Celestia was keeping her well sheltered. Trixie…

“Is there any word of Trixie yet?” Pinkie asked, looking up in time to see Celestia flinch.

“No,” she admitted, “but I have every confidence the guards will catch up to her before she does anything… too drastic.”

I’m surprised she escaped at all with those injuries…

That just left Pinkie. She hadn’t been allowed to see her friends or family, but she had been constantly assured that once the investigation was complete she would be free to go. It turned out Twilight’s threat was a bluff, while they had all technically been associates in multiple accounts of murder, such a crime was rare enough that with the circumstances as they were the princesses were able to bend the rules.

“So, Pinkie,” Celestia began again, the tone in which she spoke indicated that this was the reason she had asked Pinkie to stay behind to speak with her. “I’m sure you recall yesterday that I offered you… an explanation. Well my offer is still open, if you still want to know the truth… I will tell you.”

Pinkie hadn’t needed to think on it, not even yesterday when Celestia had first approached her with it. However she had insisted Pinkie take the night to a think it over.

“If there’s something about all this that you haven’t told me,” Pinkie answered, “then I have the right to know it.”

“Yes, I suppose you do,” Celestia said with a sigh, clearly disappointed by Pinkie’s response. Pinkie didn’t doubt that if Celestia could have done so without feeling guilty, she would never have brought this up with Pinkie to begin with. “Just know that when you hear what I have to say… you may not look at me the same way again.”

Pinkie looked Celestia squarely in the eyes, her own empty and cold.

“I don’t care.”

“Very well,” Celestia said, hanging her head slightly, her eyes closed. “Do you recall your first trip to the Crystal Empire?”

“Of course,” Pinkie replied, “with King Sombra and the Crystal Heart.”

“Exactly, during that conflict,” Celestia continued, “when Princess Cadance’s shield failed momentarily, and King Sombra almost got in. But Cadance was able to re-erect the shield, and he was repelled, but a part of him was severed in the process.”

“His horn…” Pinkie replied, remembering hearing something about that closer to the time.

“Yes, the horn of King Sombra was cut in half,” Celestia confirmed. “When the Crystal Heart was returned and Sombra was defeated, we had assumed that horn fragment went along with him. But we were wrong… several months ago, a scouting party from the Crystal Empire were investigating a magical disturbance in the frozen north. When they went there, do you know what they found?”

Pinkie had a fair idea what they found, but let Celestia continue her story regardless.

“Sombra’s horn,” Celestia stated, no doubt realising it had been obvious. “It wasn’t actively doing anything; the disturbance they picked up was simply a passive effect of the horn. The team retrieved this and brought to back to the Crystal Empire, where Princess Cadance had it sent here to me so that it would be both less of a threat, and available to better equipped ponies for analysing. However the moment I touched it I could tell it still held great power, a prolonged study of it could have… disastrous consequences.

“I decided the risk was too great, and it was better to just have it locked away where it could do no harm. However my curiosity was too powerful, I needed to know what it was capable of, but no regular pony could have examined it for too long. So if a regular pony couldn’t, maybe Twilight could.”

Pinkie sat up straight in her seat as the story began to get interesting, and she could begin to see where this was going.

“When I asked Twilight to study it, I told myself it was because she was the better one for the job, but the truth was I was too concerned for my own wellbeing. Terrified of facing such a potentially evil force myself, but content to let my protégé risk herself, while I was fully aware of what it could do to her.”

Pinkie Pie stared at Celestia as she continued to speak, now averting her eyes from Pinkie, her voice shuddering. A memory of something Twilight had said to Pinkie during the last trial floated to the forefront of her mind.

However it wasn’t until recently that I began to seriously consider the possibility of taking you under my wing.

“For the next while Twilight reported back her findings to me,” Celestia continued, “her discoveries were… intriguing, so much so that I was able to distract myself from how different Twilight was becoming. I told myself she was just getting in the researching mind-set, because to admit the truth would have been to accept that I had made a mistake, and my hubris wouldn’t allow it. A long time ago I stood by and watched as my sister was corrupted by the darkness in her heart, and now over a thousand years later I’ve made the same mistake. I sat back and allowed the Twilight to fall to it too…”

It was there Celestia’s words failed her, her voice becoming choked, and her eyes clenched to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. Pinkie stared at the princess, not uttering a word of comfort or scorn. Eventually Celestia seemed to reel in her emotions and sat gulping in mouthfuls of air, and Pinkie finally spoke.

“So Twilight was possessed?” She asked, needing clarification.

“No…” Celestia replied, shaking her head, “not possessed, corrupted. It was still just Twilight, but… made to see things differently.”

I wonder to what degree…

Pinkie would probably never know, but for seem reason… she didn’t want to know. She was done, she didn’t want any more answers or explanations, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to Celestia anymore.

Standing up, Pinkie began walking to the door, stopping only when Celestia spoke up once more.

“Pinkie,” she said, almost desperately. “I know this has all been… extremely hard for you. But from what I’ve heard, from what you’ve told me, you showed great skills back at the manor when investigating the killings. You should feel proud of yourself.”

Proud?

Pinkie looked over her shoulder at the princess, wondering where the pony she’d once respected had gone.

“Actually Celestia,” Pinkie stated, her voice utterly devoid of any emotion. “I don’t feel much of anything anymore.”

Looking back ahead, Pinkie opened the door and walked out of the study.

Author's Note

If you are reading this, then either you skipped to the end in which case you are a tool, or you have read through the entire story. If it is the latter then I'd like to thank you taking the time to read this, particularly those of you who contributed by proposing theories at the time of writing, it was definitely an effective method of holding me to my deadlines. This story has been a lot of fun to write, and I hope you all got as much entertainment from reading it.
Until this point I have refrained from replying to most comments and messages to avoid accidentally spoiling anything, but now I'll be free to andress any lingering concerns or questions you might have regarding the story.
Finally, a word from our sponsors...
Sarovian Sanguine (my editor... who did not actually edit this story): "Can I burn it?" (also proposed alternative ending: "Derpy comes in at the end and kills everyone... or just ClickClack")
Chloewhatwatt (eye candy #talk about): "How could you make it Twilight?! Kill Redheart, nobody likes her!" (upon realising she was being quoted she meeped and hid in the corner)
MGOtaku (absentee proofreader): No quote could be provided as he has not been seen or heard from in some time

Prologue: Let The Games Begin

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

It is our my sincerest hopes that this letter reaches you in good time. Truth be told, to this day I remain oblivious to certain aspects of the modern age, particularly the reliability of this system I commonly hear referred to as the mail. A thousand years ago when we wished to have the written word reach desired eyes, we used private pegasus couriers, but now sister dearest informs me that letters must be transported in batch to Cloudsdale where they are sorted and divided, before being sent to other locations all over Equestria before they can at last be delivered to their intended recipient. Celestia assured me this system is fast and efficient, and while I trust her judgement I fail to see the innovation in this.

I digress however. I write to you bearing a request for a friendly meeting. I am sure you are familiar with the Arcane Manor, West of Galloping Gorge, once home to the famous magician Orchid the Omnipotent. It has been under the ownership of the crown for over a century, and I recently felt inclined to walk its halls. Upon my visit however I encountered some… peculiarities. I am hesitant to specify exactly what it is I have discovered here, but I believe that if it is indeed what I think it is, then you, as a fellow scholar will most certainly wish to be here with me to conduct a thorough investigation into it. I would have brought this up with Celestia, but it would appear since my banishment she has become too embroiled in managing the kingdom to delve into the mysteries of magic like we used to. It is a shame, but I understand and respect her professionalism. Instead I would extend the invitation to you, to come and join me in exploring the possible secrets held by this place, and perhaps strengthen our ever growing friendship along the way.

If the postal service can indeed live up to its claim of a ‘one day delivery’, then you should be reading this letter on Friday evening. If that is right and you are interested in meeting, then I would appreciate it greatly if you could travel out here post-haste. I have enclosed the necessary funds to hire a carriage from Ponyville to Galloping Gorge, where it is only a short walk to the manor. I hope that you accept my offer and I shall see you come Saturday evening.

Wishing you the best, your friend, Luna.

P.S. I would also be interested in meeting your friend Pinkie Pie also. I have not had the opportunity to interact with her since that all too memorable Nightmare Night over a year ago, and I’d like to be able to change what I believe was a poor start to a relationship. If you could extend this invitation to her also, I would be most appreciative.

“Is there something wrong?” came the all too chipper voice of Pinkie Pie, pulling Twilight from her reverie.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she responded wistfully, not meeting her friend’s eye, instead her eyes remaining unfocused on the letter grasped before her in her pink aura. Pinkie Pie blew a loud raspberry, obviously not buying Twilight’s poor excuse for a lie of reassurance.

“Oh Twilight, you’ve been reading that letter since we got off the cart,” Pinkie informed her, “something’s clearly bothering you, and nothing spoils a good vacation more than a mopey friend.”

“Well…” Twilight began, trying to choose her words carefully, trying to ignore the overly inquisitive stare of her friend mere inches from her face. “Does it strike you as weird that Princess Luna would invite us both out here for research purposes?”

Twilight gestured a forehoof in front of them, inviting both their eyes to sweep over the view in front of them. The Arcane Manor was a true architectural masterpiece, even Pinkie could appreciate that, with its sprawling gardens, ornate walls and intricate sculptures.

And that was to say nothing of its size; the manor house itself was an immense structure dominating over the landscape, with four floors visible from the outside just because of the layout of the windows. If Pinkie had to guess, having little to no concept of measurements, she’d say it must be a thousand acres. Twilight on the other hoof knew for a fact it was in fact roughly seventy acres, grounds and all.

“And why did she really feel the need to send this letter through the mail?” Twilight continued, drawing Pinkie’s attention back to the letter by brandishing it in her face.

“Oh Twilight, you worry too much,” Pinkie said with a little giggle, Twilight wondered briefly if she even meant to do it or if laughing was just a reflex for her. “She probably just didn’t want to be a bother to Spike by sending through him since she doesn’t know him very well.”

“That’s…” Twilight began raising her hoof, only to have her rebuttal die in her throat, “is actually a reasonable thought.”

“What I tell yah!” Pinkie exclaimed, apparently bored of waiting and starting to bounce her way down the gravel path leading up to the gates of the manor grounds. “There’s nothing to worry about!” She called back over her shoulder, “now come on, last one to the gate is baked bad!”

Twilight’s mouth twitched as she tried to suppress the grin that was fighting to make its way onto her face. Instead she just shook her head half exasperatedly, shoving the letter into her saddle bags and trotting to catch up with her bubbly pink friend. Pinkie threw another glance over her shoulder at Twilight trying to catch up, clearly misinterpreting this as a serious attempt to meet her challenge, Pinkie picked up the pace, becoming nothing more than a pink blur dashing across the path. Twilight sighed in annoyance, but didn’t realise that she had also running faster. It was only when she and Pinkie were galloping neck and neck and she finally allowed herself to break out into a wide smile, throwing herself utterly into the game.

“Careful Twilight!” Pinkie shouted over her panting breath, a sly grin on her face, “we wouldn’t want you to chip your page-turning hoof!”

Twilight let out a bark of laughter, knowing full well it was a joke. “Coming from you? The closest you’ve come to running a race is sitting in a balloon!”

“Tough words coming from somepony who’s…” Pinkie called back suddenly breaking into a sprint and leaving Twilight behind. “Eating my dust!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Twilight exclaimed, more to herself, spreading her wings. Pinkie looked back one last time as she neared the wrought iron gate, only to see a ball of lavender fur and feathers rush past her, skidding sharply to a halt in front of the gates. Pinkie trotted to a halt a couple meters from Twilight who was now dancing on the spot, either out of a sense of victory or because her landing had set her hooves on fire, she wasn’t quite sure. “Champion! Ouch!” Twilight sang out, “I am the, Ack! Champion!”

Pinkie couldn’t hold it in any longer; she burst into a raucous fit of laughter, collapsing to ground where she continued to roll in hysterics. Only then did Twilight seem to catch on how silly she must have looked and ceased her victory chant, her face bright pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Twilight said in her best attempt at a neutral voice, although the slight cracking gave away she too was at risk of cracking up.

Pinkie sat bolt upright upon hearing this, springing to her hooves and walking purposely over to Twilight, whose face was now trembling with barely contained laughter. “Yeah I suppose you’re right,” Pinkie said in a mock wistful tone, punctuating her sentence with an exaggerated sigh. “Maybe I’m just being immature…”

“Quite right,” Twilight said curtly trying not to look at Pinkie, knowing she was up to something.

“After all, there’s nothing funny in the slightest about singing… Champion!” Pinkie exclaimed, while breaking into a parody of Twilight’s own ridiculous dancing. “I am the champion!”

That was the tipping point for Twilight, who ended up doubled over with tears of laughter in her eyes as Pinkie’s impersonation went on. Pinkie quickly stopped her act and returned to laughing alongside Twilight. How long did they stay there laughing? Neither of them were really sure, it could have been seconds… minutes… maybe even hours. But when they did at last stop, Twilight looked Pinkie straight in the eye, still smiling brightly and said, “Never change Pinkie.”

Pinkie smiled back, her eyes shimmering, but she didn’t respond, she didn’t need to. Together they turned to face the gate and the manor beyond, Twilight summoning her magic to swing them open before them.

“Let’s go,” Twilight said, her and Pinkie stepping forward onto the grounds…

That’s when they both felt as if their hearts stopped dead in their chests. Blood pounding in their skulls, the air squeezed from their lungs, their legs weak, collapsing beneath them. They looked to each other, their mouths opening, trying desperately to say something to one another, but to no avail. As they felt themselves slipping out of consciousness, they could distinctly hear, as if from very far away, the sound of the gates closing behind them.

“I think they’re coming around…”

“If they got a princess… oh god… oh god”

“There has to be a way out of here…”

“Oh god…”

“Get a hold of yourself…”

“Somepony help me…”

“Wake up you two!”

Twilight and Pinkie’s eyes snapped open simultaneously upon hearing the shout. Doing so immediately felt like a mistake as their vision began shifting dangerously giving them the distinct feeling that they were about to pass out again. It didn’t last however and after a few painful seconds, their surroundings began to swim into focus. They found themselves looking at each other across a table; each sitting slumped on a posh dining chair. Casting their gaze around the long room they found themselves in, they noticed a number of ponies around them. Some sitting in their own seats around the long dining table, other ambling about examining their surroundings. The room itself had a high vaulted ceiling, with a crystal chandelier flooding the room with light. The floor was comprised entirely of checked marble, and the walls made of wooden panelling. Twilight would bet any sum of bits the room they were in was one inside the Arcane Manor.

“Hrmph!” exclaimed the same voice that had just shouted them awake. Pinkie’s eyes widened in surprise, and Twilight spun around in her seat, coming face to face with the figure. Some ponies you could see day in, day out, and still forget their face, other could leave a mark after a single meeting. This pony was certainly one Twilight wouldn’t be able to forget in a hurry, the azure coat, the aquamarine mane were identifiers enough without the star adorned hat and cape.

“Trixie!” Twilight exclaimed, rising unsteadily to her hooves. “What are you doing here?”

“Trixie wishes to know the same thing,” she responded in her usual condescending voice. It was too much to hope her apparent change following their last meeting would be permanent it seemed. “Trixie was summoned here under the pretence of obtaining ancient spell books. However it would appear ‘spell books’ meant drugging Trixie and locking her in a room with these imbeciles.”

Trixie was gesturing to the rest of the ponies gathered in the room, few of which were actually paying attention to what Trixie was saying to be offended by it. But Twilight too had stopped listening, as the memories of what happened just before she passed out came flooding back to her. She spun around to face Pinkie, whose eyes were also wide with the apparent realisation of their situation.

“So wait, you were knocked out as well?” Twilight asked, turning back to Trixie. Trixie rolled her eyes like she was dealing with someone else’s foal.

“That is what Trixie said, yes,” She snapped back irritably. “From what Trixie has gathered we were all lured here under some pretence or another, knocked out and awoken in this room.”

It was only now as Pinkie joined her, that they properly examined who all was in the room with them. Surprisingly, there were quite a few they recognised. Standing next to the door, occasionally giving it a small push were Applejack’s cousin Braeburn, alongside Soarin the Wonderbolt. At the end of the room, examining what appeared to be a large blacked out monitor mounted on the wall was the Pegasus they vaguely recognised from the time they visited Rainbow Dash at the Wonderbolt Academy. From what they could remember, Rainbow had some fight with her over her reckless behaviour and she ended up expelled from the academy.

Next to her was a scrawny Earth Pony stallion they recognised from Ponyville wearing thick rimmed glasses and large bow tie, neither of which helped him look less like a nerd. There was another pony there, but they were obscured from view by the other two. At the table itself, another handful of ponies sat scattered about. They noticed the timid fashion designer Rarity had helped in Manehattan, as well as the writer Trenderhoof who despite their circumstances was talking animatedly with her, she on the other hoof was shrinking noticeably under his gaze.

There was also Doughnut Joe who was standing awkwardly behind a chair as if wondering whether he should sit down or not, Nurse Redheart who looked to be massaging a headache, Cloudchaser who was chatting quite casually with Fleur Dis Lee, the famous model from Canterlot.

“Don’t forget him,” Trixie whispered uncharacteristically, tilting her head subtly behind them. Twilight and Pinkie both turned slightly so they could see who she was referring to. Everypony in the room seemed to have gravitated towards the end with the monitor, everypony but one, who was sitting on his own at the opposite end of the room, watching the rest with undisguised contempt.

“I see Blueblood is still as pleasant as ever,” Twilight said icily, turning her attention away from the ‘prince’.

“How long were we out?” Twilight asked.

“Trixie is unsure,” she responded hesitantly, “Trixie believes we all began waking up around the same time, and that nurse was only awake a few minutes before you two.” Twilight nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “If that is all, Trixie is going to see if she can blast the door down.” With that surprisingly casual statement she walked away, leaving Twilight and Pinkie standing alone.

“I’m sorry,” Pinkie said quietly out of the blue, causing Twilight to look up in surprise. “I guess you were right about that letter being suspicious.” Pinkie attempted to give a weak smile which ended up looking more like a grimace.

“Don’t worry Pinkie,” Twilight tried to assure her, “There’s nothing stopping us from just teleporting out of here.”

“Oh yeah!” Pinkie exclaimed, brightening up instantly. She shuffled over, pressing up against Twilight, inviting her to cast the spell. Twilight shut her eyes and focused all of her energy to her horn, while picturing the manor gates where they had shared their laugh. Once she was satisfied she had drawn on enough magic to transport them, she allowed herself to release it… Only to fall to the ground, screaming in agony.

“Twilight!” Pinkie screamed in horror, collapsing next to her and grasping her in her forehooves. All the ponies in the room stopped what they were doing when they heard the scream, and were now looking at them with fear and confusion, some like Soarin and Nurse Redheart rushing forward to try and help. The screams quickly ceased however, replaced by heavy laboured pants.

“What happened?” Redheart asked, trying her best at remaining calm while kneeling down to examine Twilight.

“I… I don’t know,” Pinkie stammered, “she tried to teleport out of this room and then…”

“Magic overload perhaps,” Redheart suggested examining Twilight’s horn while tentatively touching it with the tip of her hoof.

“No…” Twilight managed through her pained breathing, “something… powerful is blocking my magic… directed my magic output inwards instead.”

Redheart flinched, apparently understanding the implications of what Twilight had said. “Pinkie, help me get her into a chair,” she ordered. Pinkie obeyed without hesitation, pushing her head under one of Twilight’s forehooves and lifting her up gently. Together with Redheart they returned Twilight to the seat where she had woken up on placed her down, trying their best to ensure she was comfortable.

“Will she be alright?” Pinkie asked, struggling to keep her fear in check.

“I think so,” Redheart assured her sincerely, “as an Alicorn she shouldn’t be affected nearly as bad as your run of the mill unicorn.” Pinkie nodded appreciatively, turning to leave Redheart to her examination, and ended up walking headfirst into another pony.

“Sorry, my bad,” Pinkie said, massaging her head where they had collided.

“No worries Pinkie Pie, you know for an Earth Pony you always did have your head in the clouds.”

Pinkie stopped rubbing her forehead. She knew that voice. Opening her eyes she looked up, greeted by the familiar sapphire mane, pearly white coat and purple shades.

“Maybe you were a Pegasus in a previous life,” Vinyl Scratch continued, still in her usual upbeat tone despite their circumstances.

“Vinyl!” Pinkie exclaimed, a genuine smile forming on her face, rushing forward to embrace the unicorn. “How did I not see you before?” she asked, her eyes navigating around the room looking for an explanation. She quickly found one when she saw the monitor at the end of the room, the pony that had been obscured from their vision previously now gone from there entirely.

“I’m like a ninja,” Vinyl said, politely pushing the overly attached pony off her. “How’s your friend?” She then asked in a more serious voice. Pinkie stopped smiling instantly, turning to look at Twilight, only to be greeted by Nurse Redheart again who was smiling warmly.

“She’ll be okay,” she assured them, “nothing that could keep the princess of magic down for long.”

Pinkie grinned again, moving past Redheart back to Twilight, Vinyl following her closely. Twilight did indeed look a lot better, she still looked very woozy, but she didn’t appear to be in any pain.

“I guess whoever put us here, doesn’t want us getting out that easily,” Twilight said weakly as Pinkie approached.

“I know what you mean,” Vinyl chipped in, “that door hasn’t budged an inch no matter what we’ve thrown at it, and that includes that Braeburn guy.”

Twilight looked over at Vinyl, surprised by her sudden appearance. Pinkie took note of this, quickly cutting in, “Twilight, you remember Vinyl Scratch don’t you? She lives in Ponyville; she does the music for a lot of my parties.”

“Oh yeah,” Twilight responded, still not entirely sure, “I’ve seen her around, I think.”

“I move around Equestria a lot for work, so it’s not surprising if you haven’t seen me out and about,” Vinyl explained.

“No wait,” Twilight began, suddenly remembering, “You were the DJ at my brother’s wedding reception.”

“Yeah I was,” Vinyl said, sounding glad at the recognition, “that was one of the best gigs I ever did, really got my name out…”

“Well that’s boring!” A voice said, causing every pony in the room to fall silent. For the voice had not come from any of them, rather it seemed to echo all around the room. It didn’t even sound natural, neither masculine nor feminine, rather complete distortion in barely distinguishable audio form. It was then followed by a low crackling noise as the monitor flashed into life, the plain black screen now replaced with a sea of greyscale noise.

“I had hoped your first meeting would be a little more dramatic,” the voice continued, now apparently coming from the monitor itself. “Alas, beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”

“Hey buddy!” the cerulean Pegasus shouted out, having fallen to the floor out of shock when the screen came to life. “Who the hay do you think you are? Locking us in this room!”

“Who am I?” The voice repeated, sounding almost amused. “I… am the Mastermind.”

“The Mastermind?” Trixie repeated, giving a little snort of laughter, “someone’s a little full of themselves.” She didn’t seem to notice the looks everypony gave her.

“Say what you will,” the Mastermind continued, seemingly undeterred, “But I’m sure that if we are to live peacefully alongside one another, we will need to show one another some respect.”

That comment wiped the smirk from Trixie’s face, leading to an outbreak of low muttering between everypony in the room. Twilight and Pinkie simply shared a nervous glance, but didn’t say anything.

“Excuse me,” a quiet voice piped up. Everyone looked around trying to figure out where it came from, not realising it came from the little Earth Pony with the ice blue hair until she spoke up once more. “But what exactly do you mean, live alongside one another?”

“Why… that is the very reason I brought you all together here,” the Mastermind replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “So that we could all live together in this mansion… forever.”

That received an outraged response from almost every pony gathered; even Blueblood rose to his hooves and shouted out against this. “Are you really so dim-witted to believe you can keep me locked up in here for a week let alone forever? As soon as my auntie sees that I am missing, the entire Royal Guard will be searching all of Equestria for me! They will storm this place and you will pay for your lack of respect!”

The voice didn’t respond right away, instead breaking out into a fit of maniacal laughter. “Oh Blueblood, still as naïve as ever it seems,” it replied at last, causing Blueblood’s cheeks to glow bright red. “The guard can come search this mansion all they want, they will find it completely empty.”

“But… but what about our homes?” Braeburn suggested desperately, “our families will miss us, do they mean nothin’ to you?”

“Yes,” the Mastermind replied simply, “they mean nothing to me.” The room once more broke out into a panicked frenzy of discussion. “Oh come now,” the Mastermind said over the noise, effectively silencing them all, “here you will have everything you desire to live out your lives in luxury and comfort, isn’t that what all ponies seek?”

“We want freedom!” Doughnut Joe shouted out, before looking away embarrassed when his outburst drew the attention of everypony in the room.

“I see…” the voice said after a long period of static silence. “I offer you everything and this is how you repay me…” The room tensed, afraid of what was coming. “Very well, you want your freedom… Then earn it.”

The silence remained, but this time it was more curious than afraid. “I offer you a chance to win your freedom from this place… a simple game, but one that will require you to use every ounce of cunning you have, for the only way to win this game… is to kill another pony in this room!”

Pinkie and Twilight’s eyes opened wide in horror, everypony else had similar reactions, some shouting various exclamations and swears. “And not just kill,” the voice continued, ignoring the burst of reaction, “but get away with it too. If you can murder one other pony and convince everypony else you had nothing to do with it, then you will be allowed to leave this place and return to your former life.”

“These are my terms, you can either play the game or accept your new lives here, the choice is yours. Just remember… not everypony around you will be so willing to let go of their freedom.” This comment sparked a wave of glances between each of the ponies gathered, checking for the slightest hint of malicious intent in one another’s eyes. “Whatever your choice, I present you each with a welcoming present to aid you in your new lives.”

With that, over a dozen brightly wrapped boxes flashed into existence around the table, inviting everypony to open them. There was one in front of Twilight, as well as another on the opposite side of the table she assumed was intended for Pinkie. Warily she mustered her telekinesis, and upon finding it want going to backfire she reached out and grabbed Pinkie’s present, bringing it over to her. Some ponies had already dived in, tearing the paper off and opening their box, others were more hesitant about it. Twilight and Pinkie shared one last nervous glance before both tentatively opening their own box.

Inside each box lay two objects, the first being a fairly ordinary key with a large metal key fob attached. The second was what drew the attentions of everypony in the room. It appeared to be a metallic hoof cuff, with two straps on one side, and a small black screen on the other.

“Within each of your boxes is a room key and a personal computer,” The voice explained, “if you attach this to one of your forehooves you will be able to use it to access data on your living accommodations as well as your house mates.”

Twilight and Pinkie obeyed and strapped the computers to their left forehooves, each one blinking to life immediately. Each screen showed a digital Birdseye view map of the Dining room, filled with various blinking dots which no doubt indicated the locations of the others. As well as this, at the top of the screen each of their names were displayed as well as some accolade.

Twilight Sparkle, Princess.

Pinkie Pie, Party Planner.

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you,” the voice continued once everypony had secured their computer, “but I think we are going to have a lot of fun together.” This comment received a number of venomous glances at the monitor. “I think that leaves only one thing to be said…” the Mastermind began forebodingly. A loud creaking noise drew everypony’s attention to the double doors that had been remaining stubbornly closed up until this point, now swinging slowly open.

“Let the games begin!”

Author's Note

Yet another story to add to the ever growing list of things I will probably never get finished. Ah well, this idea wasn't going to leave my head otherwise...
So, this is my first attempt at a murder mystery, so it will probably be crap. I encourage everyone to comment their predictions on who will be the victims and culprits, although preferably in a way that won't be considered spoilers. And as always, criticism is welcome.

C3: Master Key

Day 8, 07:42

Pinkie sighed in bliss as the hot water rushed down over her, washing away the memories of the previous day for a few glorious minutes. She was just starting to get relaxed, about to reach for the bottle of shampoo before the water cut off without warning. Snapping her head up confused she found the tap turning of its own accord, the confusion didn’t last long however as she quite quickly guessed what the cause of this was.

“I was enjoying that,” she said to the empty bathroom, disgruntled.

“My apologies,” the Mastermind replied, sounding half believable, “but you have a guest at your bedroom door and it would be rude to keep them waiting.”

A guest?

Annoyance making way for curiosity, Pinkie stepped out of the shower, shaking most of the water off before throwing a towel around herself and stepping out of the bathroom. Indeed there was a light knocking on her bedroom door.

Probably Coco by the sounds of it.

Smiling a little despite how chilly she now felt, she walked over to the door, turned the key and pulled it wide open. Coco was not standing on the other side.

“Oh Pinkie,” Soarin began embarrassed, seeing her wrapped up in a towel and still soaking wet. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were busy, it’s alright, I’ll just go.”

“It’s okay, I’m just finished,” Pinkie lied, “what did you need?”

“Actually I was just checking to see if you were coming down to breakfast,” he said awkwardly, “it’s almost eight.”

“Sure, let’s go,” Pinkie replied, taking her key and saddle bags and stepping into the hallway.

“Uhh…” Soarin began looking pointedly away from Pinkie, “are you sure you want to go looking like… well, that?”

“Huh, what’s wrong with this?” Pinkie asked looking down. Sure a towel wasn’t the most appropriate attire for eating a meal, but it wasn’t like they wore clothes generally.

Stallions are weird.

“Oh nothing’s wrong, nothing at all,” Soarin replied hastily, “you know what, it doesn’t matter, let’s just head.”

“Okie dokie lo…” Pinkie began to say, but her voice trailed off when the pair of them turned to walk down the corridor, and she saw Blueblood standing at the end, watching them. Pinkie couldn’t be sure from this distance, but Blueblood seemed to be giving her an odd look, but as quickly as she noticed it he looked the other direction and walked away.

“What a creep,” Soarin muttered as the pair began to walk.

“Yeah,” Pinkie agreed, “I can’t wait until we get out of here and we never have to deal with him again.”

“You and me both,” Soarin concurred with a small laugh, Pinkie joined in good naturedly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Hmm?” Pinkie looked over at Soarin, surprised by his suddenly serious statement.

“Yesterday,” he continued, “you proved I was innocent, I never did thank you for that.”

“It’s alright,” Pinkie whispered. “You were innocent, I wasn’t about to let you be accused.”

“That’s twice now you’ve found the truth,” Soarin commented. “I think Lightning Dust was right, if there’s anypony that can get us out of this, it’s you.”

“Coco found the hair,” Pinkie reminded him, “she also found Joe’s shirt. I think if that proves anything it’s that together we can get out of this.”

“You didn’t strike me as the modest type,” Soarin said, sounding amused.

“And you didn’t strike me as the loyal type,” Pinkie countered. “Did you really mean all that stuff you said yesterday?”

“About the Wonderbolts? Of course I did,” Soarin confirmed. “Most ponies only see us as performers, but then that’s what we mostly do in times of peace.”

“You said you dropped out of school,” Pinkie reminded him. “How did you come to be a Wonderbolt?”

“It was all thanks to Spitfire really,” he informed her. “The two of us have been inseparable since we were foals growing up in Cloudsdale. She’s one smart cookie on top of being a flying prodigy, so she was pretty much guaranteed a no stops trip to the top in whatever field she chose. That field was the Wonderbolts. She could have cut me off, she had plenty of friends so she wouldn’t have been missing anything, but she never did. She always took time to help me practice despite all the work and expectations she was carrying on her own shoulders. She was the real loyal one, I wouldn’t be anywhere today without her.”

“She must be worried about you,” Pinkie pointed out, her own thoughts drifting to her other friends in Ponyville and her family back on the rock farm.

“Probably, god I hope I see her again someday,” Soarin said wistfully.

“Sounds like somepony has a crush,” Pinkie said slyly, nudging Soarin in the ribs. He just rolled his eyes.

“Pinkie, don’t say that,” he said sounding half amused, half disgusted. “She’s like a sister to me.”

The pair laughed began to laugh, only stopping when another voice joined them.

“What are you two laughing about?” Vinyl asked, stifling a yawn.

“Nothing,” Soarin said quickly, before Pinkie could incriminate him. “Let’s just head to breakfast, I think we’re already late.”

Day 8, 08:10

“Well that’s everypony accounted for,” Fleur said with a little nod as Pinkie, Soarin and Vinyl entered the dining room.

“Hey, did any of you girls know we had a shed?” Braeburn asked, setting down a platter of toast.

“A shed, where?” Pinkie asked, surprised.

“Just outside the kitchen door to the grounds,” Braeburn explained. “It looks like some kind of gardening shed, there’s a lot of wood stacked up outside it.”

“How in Equestria did we miss that?” Vinyl asked.

“We probably didn’t” Trixie answered, “Trixie believes the Mastermind has only just allowed it to be revealed.”

“What is that freak up to now?” Vinyl muttered grabbing a slice of toast.

“What’s inside?” Pinkie asked.

“No idea,” Gizmo answered, “it’sh locked up tight.”

“And of course,” Cloudchaser finished, “we can’t force our way in.”

“Great, so that’s two locked doors,” Soarin groaned. “And we’re no closer to figuring out how to open the other one.”

“Not yet no,” Trixie admitted before seeming to remember something. “Oh and I examined that crystal in the screen, you were right, it is receiving its signal from somewhere in this mansion, but I can’t seem to trace it. No doubt the Mastermind is blocking us.”

“I bet they're sitting upstairs behind that locked door laughing away at us,” Vinyl suggested, rapping a hoof on the table.

“Most likely,” Trixie agreed sipping a cup of tea.

“Anything else interesting happen?” Pinkie asked looking to Fleur.

“Well, we decided to do inventory on the alchemy lab like we do with the kitchen,” she explained. “Redheart and Coco are up there now.”

“So what do the rest of us do?” Pinkie asked.

“Well I’ll be going up to help them now,” Fleur continued, “I was just waiting here until you three showed up.”

“Trixie shall continue her research,” Trixie said dully.

“It’sh been over a week,” Gizmo pointed out, “haven’t you found anything yet?”

“If Trixie had found something of interest she would have brought it to everypony’s attention,” Trixie snapped back, sounding irritable.

“Well it’s good to see you’ve been such a productive member of the group,” Blueblood commented snidely.

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Cloudchaser muttered, before hastily adding when Trixie flashed her a glare. “Not that I think you’re not being productive… that wasn’t the best phrase I could have used.”

“And what, pray tell, are you going to be doing?” Trixie asked, still sounding bitter.

“I don’t know,” Cloudchaser admitted sounding bored, “any of you guys want to head over to one of the game rooms?”

“I could go for that,” Soarin said, “you in Braeburn?”

“Huh? oh sure,” he replied, sounding distracted.

“Pinkie? Vinyl? Gizmo?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Nah I’m good, I’ve got something I want to look into anyway,” Vinyl explained.

“And I’m going to head outside, see this shed,” Pinkie added.

“I think I’m going to jusht shtay in my room,” Gizmo said nervously.

“Suit yourself,” Cloudchaser said standing up. “You guys coming?”

The three departed from the room, Gizmo following shortly after, leaving only Trixie, Pinkie, Vinyl, Fleur and Blueblood in the room.

“Dare I ask what you plan to be doing?” Fleur asked, looking over at Blueblood.

“I’d rather you kept your nose out of my business,” he replied snootily. Fleur nodded as if to say she hadn’t expected anything else.

Day 8, 08:30

“So what exactly are you doing?” Pinkie asked as her and Vinyl stepped outside the dining room, the others all heading off in their own directions.

“I wanted to take a look at the staircase to the courtroom,” Vinyl explained, “It’s probably a dead end like the crystal in the screen, but… I just want to be sure.”

“Alright, I’ll see you back here at lunch time,” Pinkie said making towards the kitchen.

“Sure thing,” Vinyl called over her shoulder as she headed off in the opposite direction.

See you at lunch time… those could very well have been my last words to her.

Pinkie froze mid-step, shaking her head to rid herself of the depressing thought.

Don’t think that! Nopony is going to die, not anymore. Just focus on the shed right now.

Indeed as Pinkie walked through the kitchen she began to grow quite curious as to this mysterious shed that appeared out of nowhere. If the Mastermind had indeed been hiding it, then why reveal it now? And why leave it locked?

Stepping out onto the gravel path, Pinkie looked down the side of the house, the shed clearly visible. It was a simple, yet proud looking wooden structure, with a low angled green slate roof. Almost the entire front wall was dominated by a set of double sliding doors, similar to those on a barn. As Pinkie walked she saw the silver chain and padlock woven through the door handles.

The chain is obviously brand new.

Walking up beside the shed, Pinkie peeked around the corner, indeed there was an abundance of chopped logs and bags of kindling branches. It wasn’t exactly cold in the mansion, but it might be nice to get a fire lit up in the evening. Pinkie smiled at the thought and backed away from the corner, turning around and slamming straight into Blueblood.

“Blueblood!” Pinkie exclaimed jumping back. “Seriously, are you stalking me or something?!”

“I guess you could say that,” Blueblood admitted. That was not the answer Pinkie had been hoping for, immediately the first thought that jumped to her mind was to turn and run as fast as she could from him, but it was drowned out by the other thought that reminded her the last time Blueblood had snuck up on her he had mentioned something about wanting to tell her something.

“What do you want?” Pinkie demanded, trying to sound confident, but she was still shaken and her voice betrayed that. It made Blueblood smile, the same creepy, threatening smile he’d had that last time.

“I’ve been trying to get you on your own for a while now,” he said, taking a step closer. Again Pinkie’s brain screamed for her to run, but she found herself paralysed.

“Why?” Pinkie asked, her mouth dry.

“To do this…”

Shit! He’s about to murder me! Run for the fu… Wait… Is he kissing me?!

Pinkie was frozen stock still, her eyes as wide as dinner plates while Blueblood locked his mouth with hers, kissing ferociously. Pinkie was still struggling to comprehend what was going on.

Does not compute!

It wasn’t until it registered in her head that Blueblood’s forehooves were working their way around her body that her mind kicked into overdrive and she leapt back, kicking out with her forehooves as she did.

“What the buck was that about?!” She screamed, her eye twitching. Blueblood just cocked an eyebrow.

“What? Am I not allowed to be attracted to a mare?” he asked sounding uninterested, like casually making out with mares he’s shown no signs of attraction to previously was just something he did generally.

“No! I mean… whatever! I mean… WHAT?!” She yelled, her eyes shrinking to pinpoints.

“You’re clearly confused right now,” Blueblood said dismissively, “I’ll give you some time to think about it.” With that he turned and began walking to the kitchen door. On the way he stopped briefly and looked over his shoulder, “it would probably be best if we kept this under wraps.”

And less than a several seconds later, he was gone, leaving an utterly bewildered Pinkie Pie standing next to the shed.

Day 8, 09:03

“Stupid Blueblood…” Pinkie muttered under her breath as she traipsed across the path.

He kissed me! Why would he kiss me? Does he like me?... This is Blueblood, he doesn’t like anyone. So why would he kiss me?

“Stupid Blueblood!” Pinkie repeated.

“Who’s stupid?” a voice asked behind her. Pinkie spun around, thinking for a wild moment it was Blueblood returned to stick his tongue down her throat again.

“Oh Trixie, it’s just you,” Pinkie said relieved upon seeing the blue unicorn.

“Were you expecting somepony else?” Trixie asked confused. Pinkie opened her mouth, intent on telling Trixie everything that had just happened. But as she did, something yanked at her tongue, causing her to reconsider.

“No,” she lied, “I’ve just been on edge, two murders and all you know.”

“Trixie understands,” Trixie said nodding sagely, walking up beside Pinkie. “Everypony is nervous, few will admit it but Trixie can tell.”

“So…” Pinkie began, trying to think of something to say to change the topic. She then noticed that Trixie was holding a large tome in her magic. “What’s with the book?”

“Trixie found this in the library,” Trixie explained, holding the book out in front of Pinkie. “It is the journal of Rosethorn, the original owner of the Arcane Manor.”

“Original owner?” Pinkie repeated, genuinely confused. “But I thought Orchid…”

“Orchid was the last unicorn to live here,” Trixie elaborated, “but the house itself is much older.”

“Okay, so what did you find?” Pinkie asked. Trixie opened the book to a page where a white ribbon bookmark was placed.

“This passage refers to the building of a crypt at the north end of the grounds,” Trixie informed her. Pinkie squinted her eyes at the text Trixie was referring to, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“I can’t read a word of this,” Pinkie complained.

“I’m not surprised,” Trixie admitted, “it’s written in the pre-Discord Era style of writing. It became obsolete over a thousand years ago because the cramped, steep angled letters were too difficult to read, and it was written with very little pressure applied so it faded quicker over time.”

“Neat!” Pinkie exclaimed, not sure if that was an appropriate response or not. “So you’re going to find this crypt?”

“We might as well,” Trixie said with a little shrug, “you’re welcome to come along.”

“Sure,” Pinkie agreed, allowing Trixie to lead the way.

“Also could I put this in your saddlebags?” Trixie asked, holding up the book. Once Pinkie nodded, Trixie telekinetically opened Pinkie’s bag and slid the book in. The two walked together in relative silence, occasionally making small talk which inevitably teetered out and left them walking in silence once more. Pinkie tilted her head back and stared up at the multi-hued sky, it was weird, despite no sun penetrating it, the rest of the surroundings looked the same as if they were bathed in the light of a summer’s day.

“Did you ever find anything on the magic around this place?” Pinkie asked as she watched the swirling sky.

“Some books make reference to an ancient and powerful form of magic which sounds a lot like what we’re dealing with,” Trixie explained, “But it’s mostly the stuff of legends, no real basis for understanding it let alone learning to use it.”

Pinkie nodded, tilting her head back down in time to see their destination before them. It looked as if the path just widened out for a brief stretch, the gravel replaced with stone slabs. In the centre of the plaza was a rectangular stone tablet, several names chiselled into it. The top name read ‘Rosethorn’, while the bottom name read ‘Orchid’.

“This looks like the place,” Trixie said, her horn glowing pink. The tablet was wrapped in her aura and she began to strain, attempting to lift it away from what the pair presumed was the entrance to the crypt.

As Trixie continued straining and struggling, Pinkie drifted away a little, examining an odd, slightly out of place slab. Tentatively resting one hoof on it, she found nothing happened, so she added her other three hooves, putting all her body weight down on the slab. The slab sunk, dipping slightly below the level of all the others, and a low rumbling sound emerged behind Pinkie. She looked around to see the tablet sliding to the side to reveal a dark passage leading down.

Trixie was still gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut, but when she heard the rumbling cease she opened them, smiling at what she must have believed to be her own triumph.

“Trixie knew she could do it!” Pinkie stayed silent, opting not to burst Trixie’s bubble. “Let us carry on.”

With that the pair began descending into the dark of the crypt, Trixie’s horn lighting up, illuminating their surroundings. The crypt was small and cramped, carved entirely from what looked to be limestone. The narrow room was lined with alcoves on the walls, some holding open sarcophaguses with visible pony skeletons lying in them. Walking up to the nearest, Pinkie saw a faded plaque on the side of the coffin, it simply read ‘Foxglove’.

“Well I don’t know what we expected to find down here,” Pinkie said, “but I’d say a bunch of long dead ponies is right on the money.”

“Pinkie,” Trixie said in an odd voice, slightly further down the room. Pinkie looked over to see Trixie staring into one of the open coffins, a disturbed look in her eye. Walking over slowly, unsure what to expect, Pinkie glanced down at the plaque that read ‘Orchid’, before looking into the coffin itself. It was completely empty.

“But… where did he go?” Pinkie asked, looking around all the other coffins to see if he was bunking with one of his grave buddies.

“You don’t think…” Trixie began, still looking disturbed.

“Think what?” Pinkie asked, worried as to what Trixie was hinting at.

“Orchid the Omnipotent was a powerful unicorn,” Trixie said, “specialising in all fields of magic. What if one of those fields… was how to evade death?”

“Then he could be still be alive?” Pinkie asked, starting to get a good idea of what Trixie was suggesting.

“Could be in the manor at this very moment…” Trixie stated.

“The Mastermind,” Pinkie whispered. Trixie gulped and nodded slightly.

“Perhaps so,” she said biting her lip. “Maybe… maybe he wasn’t buried here at all. Let me see that book a second.”

“How will this help you?” Pinkie asked reaching into her saddlebags. “Didn’t you say this was written like a thousand years ago?”

“Yes I did, but still it might give us some…” Trixie trailed off as Pinkie pulled the book free, something clattering onto the crypt floor as she did.

Both mares stared down at the floor, Trixie’s light glinting off the ornate gold key that lay there.

“Where… did you get that?” Trixie asked, picking the key up with her magic.

“Me? I never had that!” Pinkie insisted.

“Pinkie, it just fell out of your bag,” Trixie pointed out. “Are you saying it just fell in there?”

“I don’t know how it got in there,” Pinkie said again. Trixie just stared back at her doubtfully.

“We should show this to the others,” she said at last. Walking towards the exit of the crypt, Pinkie following in her wake.

How did that key get in my bag?

Day 8, 10:23

“So what’s this about?” Cloudchaser asked as her, Braeburn and Soarin all arrived in the corridor on the third floor. Trixie didn’t say anything at first, merely levitated the golden key out from behind her back and showing it to all the others.

“Is that…” Fleur began, looking between the key and the locked door behind them.

“We think so,” Trixie stated.

“Where did you find that?” Redheart asked, amazed.

“Well…” Trixie began, her eyes flicking to Pinkie beside her. “We found it in Orchid’s crypt in the grounds.”

“Wait, you mean the guy who lived here?” Vinyl asked.

“The very same,” Trixie confirmed. “I found out he might be buried in the grounds, and while on the way there I ran into Pinkie Pie, together we entered the crypt, found the key and discovered something… interesting.”

“What was that?” Coco asked nervously.

“Orchid isn’t down there,” Pinkie explained.

“He’sh not?” Gizmo repeated, “but then where ish he?”

“Well…” Trixie began hesitantly, “we think he’s behind us.”

The ponies stared in silence at the door behind Trixie and Pinkie, trying to decipher the meaning of Trixie’s revelation.

“You don’t think he’s dead, do you?” Fleur said in little more than a whisper.

“Only one way to find out,” Pinkie replied with a weak smile. Trixie turned around slowly, bringing the key down to the lock. All the ponies gathered held their breath, waiting for the moment of truth, even Blueblood was staring, enthralled at the prospect of seeing beyond the door. The key slid into the lock without any opposition, and with one final breath, Trixie turned the key.

A satisfying clunk echoed throughout the corridor, Trixie glanced back, wide eyed.

“Did… did it work?” Soarin asked, hardly believing their luck.

Looking back, Trixie reached out with a hoof, and turned the door handle… causing it to swing open.

Pinkie and Trixie stepped through together, unsure what they were about to encounter.

What they did find however, was a spacious master bedroom, a giant four-poster bed planted in the centre of the room. Extravagant and elegant furnishings surrounded the walls, everything from mahogany wardrobes to gold trimmed vanities. One by one the ponies stepped into the master bedroom, examining every surface, nook and cranny. However as each minute tricked by and they continued to uncover nothing that might identify the Mastermind or help them escape, their hopes so high upon entering the room began to dwindle.

Desperate not to lose heart, Pinkie trotted over to the other single door in the corner of the room, so easy to overlook. Vinyl was watching her, as if expecting a guillotine to swing down as Pinkie opened it. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened, instead the door swung wide open without any bother, revealing a stark white bathroom.

Stepping inside Pinkie found it to be far bigger than any of their en suits. Despite the larger size however, she found it mostly bare, most of the room occupied by a raised dais upon which rested a magnificent bathtub. Edging towards it, Pinkie began to notice something off about it. The rim of the bath was not entirely white, but instead had splodges of purple splashed over it. It only became more pronounced the closer she got and the further she could see into the bath.

Once she was right up beside it she found the entire base obscured by shades of pink and purple, and resting on the floor of the tub were a dozen unmarked, plastic bottles, similar to the ones used for holding shampoo.

This looks like… paint? But why on earth would anyone paint a bath tub?

Day 8, 10:56

None of the ponies were happy as they traipsed back into the hallway. They had been expecting something more, something helpful. Instead they got a messy bath tub and a fancy, yet ultimately pointless room.

“Well that was uneventful,” Vinyl muttered as they all stood together outside the previously locked door.

“So much for the master key,” Blueblood said bitterly, levitating the key out of the lock and holding it in front of them.

Master Key?

“Did you just call that the master key?” Pinkie asked, curiously.

“Well yeah, it opened the door to the master bedroom,” he replied as if it were obvious.

“But what if it really is a master key?” Pinkie specified, grabbing the key from in front of Blueblood. “Like a key that can open any lock.”

“Doesn’t that seem like a bit of a stretch?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Maybe,” Pinkie admitted, “but there’s still one locked door.”

The other ponies had to think about it for a moment before Fleur remembered.

“The shed.”

Day 8, 11:18

“Are we going to keep running around this manor all day?” Vinyl asked, whining a little. “I wouldn’t be bothered but that last one was such a bust I’m not in the best mood.”

“Hopefully this will work,” Pinkie said, noticing that Vinyl wasn’t the only sceptical one among them. Wasting no more time, Pinkie took the padlock, examining it.

It certainly looks to be the right shape for the key. Here’s hoping…

Putting the key into the lock, Pinkie gave it a hopeful turn. The padlock sprang open.

“No way,” Cloudchaser said in awe.

“It really is a master key,” Fleur said, sounding surprised.

“Who would have thought that Blueblood would figure something out?” Vinyl said, “even if it was by accident.”

For once Blueblood didn’t retort, too surprised himself that it worked to have even acknowledged Vinyl’s comments. Pulling the chain free of the handless, Pinkie pulled the doors open. The inside of the shed was very dark and incredibly cluttered. Vinyl, Fleur and Trixie all lit up their horns, Blueblood joined in after they all gave him a look. This time they couldn’t all wander about as freely as they could in the master bedroom, not without knocking over a dozen gardening tools and possibly impaling somepony on most of them.

The shed was packed with everything including rakes, hoes, shovels, callipers, tongs, and every tool the ponies could think of had been shoved in somewhere.

“Hey look at this,” Braeburn said, holding something out. Pinkie looked over to see Braeburn with a box of matches. “With that wood outside, I’ll be able to light up a decent fire in one of the sittin’ rooms for us.”

Pinkie smiled, remembering her earlier notion when she first saw the wood, but then that also brought back the memories of Blueblood and the kiss. Looking over she saw Blueblood and Fleur were standing, looking over something. Walking over Pinkie saw it was the remains of a lawnmower, its razor sharp blades sticking out in frightening angles. Fleur grasped them all in her aura, safely pulling them from the wreckage and laying them out flat on one of the less cluttered tables.

“That was just asking for trouble otherwise,” she said to Pinkie after placing them all away safely.

“So nothing in here either?” Pinkie said, disappointed.

“No, I suppose not,” Fleur admitted, “But you were right about the key being a master key.”

“I wonder what else it unlocks,” Pinkie said thoughtfully, holding the key out between her and Fleur.

“Why don’t we go and figure that out now,” Fleur proposed. “I think we’ve discovered all there is in here.”

The pair made their way out of the shed, the rest having already exited and were now standing around outside.

“If that’s all, Trixie is going to return to the library,” Trixie stated, “She has… been given much to think about.”

“Yeah,” Vinyl chipped in, “I think I’m going to get back to what I was at.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gizmo added hurriedly, “I have… important stuff to do.”

Pinkie opened her mouth to ask Gizmo what exactly he was doing, but he had already sped away.

“I’m gonna haul some of this in,” Braeburn said, dragging a bag of sticks around the corner. “Soarin, you mind giving me a hoof with this?”

“I think I’ll go get started on lunch,” Coco said, watching as Soarin went to help Braeburn.

“I’ll help,” Redheart said, “I’ve got nothing else to do at the minute.”

“God, it’s all work, work, work,” Cloudchaser complained. “I think I’ll hit the gym for a bit. Catch you girls later.”

That left Pinkie alone with Fleur and Blueblood, the latter of which didn’t stay put, instead opting to walk off without offering any sort of explanation.

“So Pinkie,” Fleur said, dragging Pinkie away from watching Blueblood walk away. “Shall we start our investigation?”

Day 8, 13:21

“So in conclusion,” Fleur announced to the gathered ponies around the dining table. “The key can lock and unlock both doors to the grounds from the kitchen and the pool, as well as all internal doors except for our bedrooms.”

“I suppose that’s good,” Cloudchaser said, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing anypony here could just waltz into my room while I was sleeping.”

“That raises a good question,” Soarin chipped in, “who is going to hold onto the key. I mean let’s face it, if anyone here was going to commit a murder, that key could potentially be the ultimate tool for them.”

“If we’re going by who’s least likely to kill us, we can probably all agree Coco should hold onto the key,” Trixie suggested, causing Coco to squeak in surprise.

“Me? Oh I’d really prefer somepony else took it,” Coco insisted, sounded panicked.

“Yeah, whoever keeps it needs to be able to protect it,” Vinyl added, “and no offence kid, but you’re kind of a push over.”

“Oh I know,” Coco agreed, sounding more relieved at having a legitimate excuse not to be saddled with such a burden, than offended by what Vinyl had actually said. “Maybe Pinkie should keep it.”

“Me? Really?” Pinkie repeated surprised.

“I don’t see why not,” Fleur pointed out, “you’ve certainly proved yourself to be responsible what with the last two investigations.”

“And you were the one who found the key…” Trixie reminded her sounding vaguely suspicious, before adding, “in that crypt.”

“I don’t have a problem with Pinkie holding onto the key,” Redheart said.

“Me neither,” Braeburn agreed, soon everypony was nodding in approval of the idea; even Blueblood gave a non-committal shrug, which seemed positive coming from him.

“It’s settled then,” Fleur said, returning the master key to Pinkie. “Pinkie will be responsible for the master key.”

“That meansh she’ll be held accountable if it goesh misshing, right?” Gizmo asked.

“I suppose,” Fleur admitted, “but I doubt Pinkie will let that happen.”

“No sir-e!” Pinkie exclaimed, putting the key into the small inner compartment of her saddle bag.

“Excellent,” Fleur said happily. “Now that that’s sorted out, what say the rest of you to getting that fire lit. After the week we’ve had, I can imagine few things more welcome than a roaring fire and cup of hot chocolate.”

Day 8, 19:52

Pinkie had to agree, it had been a day well wasted, lying in front of the fire, every hour or so somepony taking their turn go and prepare some more hot chocolate. Stopping for the first time in what was actually little over a week, but felt so much longer, to forget about everything and simply relax together. Even Blueblood sat in the corner, and made no snide comments to anyone, instead opting to sit and doze off on one of the arm chairs.

While Trixie had initially refused to join them, insisting that they had better things to do than sit and ‘chill out’, she did eventually creep quietly into the room, propping herself down by Pinkie in front of the fire before continuing to read the book she had brought down with her. At some point Gizmo had slipped out while none of them were paying attention, Soarin went to check on him but came back a few minutes later saying he was in his room and was content to remain there.

Pinkie knew they had work to do, they weren’t going to beat the Mastermind lying down, but she had no clue how to go about doing so. Trixie was working tirelessly on researching a magical solution to their problem, as well as attempting to pinpoint the exact nature of Orchid’s demise. Vinyl’s infatuation with the stair case in the entrance hall was running her ragged, and try as Pinkie might, she refused to tell anypony what her insistence behind it was. Braeburn took over the kitchen duties, Redheart was managing the alchemy lab, and Coco was running back and forth trying to help them both. Fleur was a natural administrator, always keeping track of them and organising their activities, all the while taking everypony’s wellbeing into account.

So where did this leave Pinkie?

It seems I only really do anything when there’s been a murder. Beyond that I just kind of stumble around, finding things by accident… like the key.

Once they were sure the key was indeed a master key, Pinkie couldn’t help but entertain the thought of there being doors they had yet to find. The shed came out of nowhere, was it entirely ridiculous to hope that other rooms would manifest as well? Pinkie had of course already examined the front gates exiting the manor grounds, but discovered it wasn’t even physically locked, just held closed by the freaking magic dome imprisoning them.

“Anyone fancy another cup before bed?” Coco asked, looking into her own empty cup.

“I went last time,” Cloudchaser reminded them, “it’s somepony else’s turn.”

“I’ll go,” Pinkie offered, standing up beside Trixie who was still enthralled by her book. Picking up the tray and collecting everyone’s cups before leaving the room with them balanced on her back.

She hummed to herself as she walked down the halls to the open kitchen door, angling in so as not to drop the tray, she placed it down as gently as possible on the kitchen counter. With that taken care of and none of the cups in pieces, she went about filling the kettle from the tap and setting it on the heat.

Now where is the chocolate kept again?

Pinkie turned around, and half screamed before clamping her mouth shut with her forehooves when she came face to face with Blueblood.

“Quit doing that!” she scolded him, quickly glancing out the door to make sure there were no approaching hoofsteps. “What do you want?”

“You don’t sound pleased to see me,” he pointed out, sounding slightly annoyed.

“Well you aren’t making it easy,” Pinkie answered, walking around him and busying herself in one of the cupboards searching for the chocolate. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I wanted to see if you’d thought any more about my proposal,” he replied simply, approaching her from behind.

“What proposal?” Pinkie demanded, “as far as I remember you just kissed me out of nowhere. Are you asking me out? What do you want from me?”

“I want you,” he said simply, Pinkie’s skin crawled at the thought of that, not to mention he was now close enough that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

Pinkie grabbed the chocolate, standing up and turning to face Blueblood. “You’ve been nothing but an ass to me and my friends since we got here.”

“That’s just the kind of pony I am,” he stated.

“And you expect me, or anypony to be attracted to that?” Pinkie asked incredulously, ducking under his hoof and moving back over beside the now whistling kettle, turning the heat off.

“I guess I’d hoped,” he admitted, his voice no longer sounding self-satisfied and condescending, but rather… sad almost. Pinkie sighed inwardly, before she came to this manor she would have tried her hardest to get along with anypony, even one as insufferable as Blueblood, and she definitely would not have made anypony sad. Was this whole ordeal changing her for the worse?

“Wait,” she called out as Blueblood walked towards the door. “You could lend a hoof here… I’d really appreciate that.”

Day 8, 22:33

Stupid Blueblood…

Pinkie rolled over in bed, desperate to fall asleep and stop thinking for a few precious hours.

Stupid Blueblood and that stupid kiss…

Pinkie picked up her pillow and fluffed it before slamming her head back down onto it.

Stupid Blueblood and that stupid joke…

Pinkie’s mouth twitched into a smile before she caught herself on and rolled over, smothering her face in the pillow.

Stupid Pinkie, you shouldn’t have laughed, you shouldn’t have asked him to stay…

Day 9, 08:06

“Hey Pinkie,” Vinyl said casually as Pinkie sat down beside her at the dining table, before doing a double take. “Whoa Pinkie, did you get any sleep last night?”

Pinkie shook her head miserably.

“Um, well, do you want to talk about it?” Vinyl asked worriedly.

Pinkie shook her head again, nibbling on a slice of toast.

“Well I’m going back to the entrance hall after breakfast to keep working; you can come and keep me company if you want.”

Pinkie nodded, still looking down trodden.

“Great talking to you too,” Vinyl muttered turning back to her own food.

Day 9, 08:39

“So what exactly are you trying to do here?” Pinkie asked from where she sat cross-legged on the entrance hall floor. Vinyl jumped upon hearing Pinkie speak.

“Oh there you are Pinkie,” Vinyl said, feigning surprise at seeing her. “You’d better be careful, there’s this clone of you wandering around being all moody and not talking.”

Pinkie rolled her eyes, smiling for the first time since she’d mentally chastised herself the night before.

“But in answer to your question,” Vinyl continued coming over and sitting beside Pinkie. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the courtroom.”

“What about it?” Pinkie asked, nonplussed.

“Well it’s underground,” Vinyl reminded her, “so if that room is, what else could be?”

Pinkie tapped her chin with a hoof, she hadn’t considered that possibility.

“It had occurred to me a while back, but since that shed appeared out of nowhere I’ve been thinking about it a lot more seriously,” Vinyl explained.

“You think the shed was underground?” Pinkie repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Could have been,” Vinyl said shrugging. “Trixie seems convinced it was just being cloaked with magic, but it could just have easily been underground, waiting to be raised up to the surface at any point.”

“Which raises another question,” Pinkie began, drawing Vinyl’s attention. “Either way, why would the Mastermind choose to let us have a shed now?”

“Maybe they expect us to maintain the garden while we’re here,” Vinyl suggested. “Which if that’s what they think, they’re in for a cruel surprise. I’d sooner burn that psycho’s garden to the ground than tend it for them.”

“It can’t be that simple,” Pinkie insisted, “the Mastermind wants us to kill each other, he probably just gave us the shed as it’s filled with more tools for us to maim each other with.”

“He?” Vinyl repeated, “You think it’s a dude?”

“Well Trixie seemed sure that Orchid was the one behind this,” Pinkie replied.

“Just because his skeleton wasn’t in that crypt?” Vinyl said sceptically, “there could be tonnes of reasons for that, maybe his family wanted him buried somewhere else, maybe the crypt was robbed. I just find it hard to believe that a few hundred year old unicorn would be hell bent on making a bunch of random ponies kill each other.”

“I don’t know,” Pinkie said sounding defeated. “I just feel like there’s more to all this, and we won’t get out of here until we figure it out.”

“Speaking of figuring things out,” Vinyl said, swiftly changing the subject, “how come you were so mopey at breakfast?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” Pinkie insisted. “I can take care of it myself.”

“If you’re sure,” Vinyl relented, standing back up and walking over to the stairs again. “Just don’t do anything stupid, we need you.”

Day 9, 13:50

“I have to ask Pinkie,” Fleur began in an amused tone, “is there any game you aren’t an expert at?”

“Of course there is,” Pinkie assured her while lying across the snooker table, lining up for a trick shot. “Sure I’m pretty good at a lot of games. I have lots of these games at my parties so I get tonnes of practice.”

“Oh I’ve heard all about your parties,” Fleur said with a small giggle. “Fancy Pants told me about the time you hijacked the Canterlot Garden Party, it sounded most entertaining. I would have loved to have been there, but I was out of town visiting my sister.”

“Fancy Pants,” Pinkie repeated, forgetting about her shot and looking over at Fleur. “He’s your husband right?”

“Yes he is,” Fleur said smiling, “he and I have been happily married for fourteen years.”

“How…” Pinkie began hesitantly, sliding off the snooker table, “when did you realise you loved him? Like for sure, that he was the one.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Fleur answered thoughtfully, a far off look in her eyes. “It grew over time; it’s hard to place as it grew so subtly.”

“What did he do?” Pinkie asked, “did he do anything that really made you know?”

“He was always there for me, whenever things got hard he didn’t turn his back on me,” Fleur explained looking Pinkie in the eye.

Always there for you… Wouldn’t turn his back when things got hard…

“So who’s the lucky stallion?” Fleur asked suddenly, causing Pinkie’s heart to miss a beat. She snapped her head up to see Fleur giving her a knowing smile.

“I… No… uh…” Pinkie stammered, her face turning beetroot. Fleur just laughed warmly at this.

“It’s okay Pinkie,” she assured her, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others, this will stay between you and me.”

“Thanks,” Pinkie mumbled appreciatively. “Um, I need to go… uh, do something.”

“Of course,” Fleur replied with a slight smirk. “I think it’s safe to say you were going to win anyway.”

With that Pinkie hurried out of the game room, pressing herself against the wall just outside the door. Just before she continued down the hall she heard Fleur ponder to herself.

“Oh, I wonder if it’s Soarin or Braeburn,” she said excitedly. “Or maybe it’s Gizmo.”

Pinkie groaned to herself as she slumped away.

Day 9, 19:20

Pinkie walked down the hall to the dining room, still lost in her own thoughts, only dragged out when she heard raucous laughter coming from the approaching room. Curious, she trotted in, only to have her mouth drop at what she saw.

Soarin, Braeburn and Blueblood were all sitting, laughing together, a number of wine bottles sitting on the table between them. Soarin had one hoof slung over Blueblood’s back while Braeburn lay with his face on the table, looking like he was about to pass out.

“Oh man!” Soarin exclaimed. “I was wrong about you man, you’re alriiiiiight… at least when you’re hammered.”

“I probably shoulda taken this up years ago,” Blueblood slurred before giggling. giggling!

“We’re all goin’ on a…” Braeburn sang from where he had his face planted into the table cloth.

“Ah’m serious man,” Soarin said, “startin’ tomorrow you and I are gonna be best friends.”

Blueblood gasped, his eyes welling up.

Well this is thoroughly disturbing.

“Soooo, guys, having fun?” Pinkie asked casually walking up to the table.

“Pinkie!” Blueblood exclaimed, jumping forward to give her a hug, before realising there was a table between them, and falling flat on it instead… and bursting into another wave of laughter.

“Where did you get all this wine?” Pinkie asked incredulously, examining one of the bottles. She was no connoisseur, that was Rarity’s department, but it looked incredibly classy.

“Blue here found it the master bedroom,” Soarin explained, putting on a spooky voice while saying the last two words.

“You forgot the ‘awoooo’” Blueblood reminded him, imitated his spooky voice.

“Oh yeah,” Soarin said like it should have been obvious. “Awoooo.”

“Awoooo,” Blueblood said back.

“Awoooo,” Soarin repeated.

“Anyway,” Pinkie said loudly, worried they might never stop otherwise. “Not that this isn’t riveting stuff, but are you guys sure…”

“Summer Holiday!” Braeburn finished loudly.

“Drinking is a wise idea?” Pinkie asked, ignoring Braeburn’s interruption.

“As if,” Soarin declared, “we could get murdered at any moment, we gotta live now while we still can.”

“Here-here!” Blueblood cheered.

“Well at least I’ll know who the culprit is if one of you is dead in the morning,” Pinkie said eying the bottles of wine, noticing most of them were already empty.

“So tell me Blue,” Soarin began, ignoring Pinkie. “You’re a guy, you got your eye on any mares?”

“Oh yeah,” Blueblood declared. “I got my eye on a beautiful little thing call Pin…”

“Ah, we don’t need to hear about that!” Pinkie cut in quickly, blushing slightly.

Beautiful?

“How about you?” Blueblood asked, suddenly forgetting what he was about to say.

“I’ve kinda taken a fancy to…” Soarin looked around dramatically, checking to see if anyone was around before saying in a stage whisper, “Coco.”

“Coco?” Pinkie repeated, surprised but not unhappy at the notion.

“Shhhh!” Soarin hushed her. “It’s a secret.”

“Dude, you should totally tell her,” Blueblood declared.

“Tell her? Oh no I couldn’t,” Soarin stammered, blushing.

“You told me Lightning liked me,” Braeburn mumbled from where he lay. Pinkie looked down at him surprised and saw he was narrowing his unfocused eyes at her. “I believed you.”

“I thought she did,” Pinkie insisted, before remembering the look Lightning Dust gave Braeburn after she had been caught out. “She really might have.”

Braeburn snorted, rolling over so he was no longer looking at Pinkie. “She had a funny way of showing it.”

Poor guy.

“Oh hey Pinkie,” Blueblood said suddenly, as if only noticing her there. “What are you doing here?”

Pinkie looked over at Blueblood, biting her lip, unsure of whether now was the best time for discussing this.

“It can wait,” she said at last, turning towards the door. “Don’t keep that up much longer, you’ll all regret it in the morning.”

Day 10, 04:14

Beep.

Pinkie’s eyes flickered open. She was awake, why was she awake? A dim light was illuminating her bedroom, but she had definitely turned off all lights before she had crawled into bed earlier that night. Rolling over, Pinkie glanced at her bedside table where the light was coming from. The screen on her hoof computer was lit up. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Pinkie reached out for the hoof computer, wondering what it could be displaying now.

The screen was displaying a stark white screen, with a single word typed in the centre.

Fire.

Pinkie stared at the word for a few moments, trying to register in her still half asleep mind what it meant. As she became more lucid, she became more worried. Leaping from her bed she stared out the window. It was almost pitch black outside… almost.

A small but bright light penetrated the darkness from far off into the grounds. The light flickered. Pinkie didn’t stare for any longer, strapping on her hoof computer and slinging her saddle bags over her back she sped from the room. Galloping down the corridor to the stairs, the carpet muffling the sound of her hooves. Taking the stairs three at a time, she landed on the first floor and continued running towards the entrance hall.

Have to hurry… Have to help…

Pinkie came skidding to a halt, mentally shouting at herself before turning tail and running for the kitchen which she had past. The main doors wouldn’t be open at this time, what was she thinking? Hurrying back to the kitchen Pinkie sprinted through the door to the grounds. Once on the gravel path outside she began glancing around. She couldn’t see the fire from here, she couldn’t see anything it was too dark. She continued running along the side of the house until she reached the corner and the fire became visible once more. It seemed to be on the main driveway from the gate to the front doors.

Not stopping to ponder what precisely was on fire in the middle of a gravel path, Pinkie continued running forward. As she began to draw closer to the fire she was able to start making out a shape. It looked like a mound, a mound of what though?

Picking up the pace, the burning mass became clearer and clearer, Pinkie could just about make out a proper shape. Now only several metres away, Pinkie found herself come to a complete halt as she saw what was on fire.

Is that a body?!

Those were unmistakably hooves. That was unmistakably a head. It was unmistakably…

SMASH!

Pinkie fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes as the hard object struck her on the back of the skull. Her vision flared briefly before beginning to cloud over as soon as her head smacked into the path. She could feel consciousness slipping away from her, saw the world growing dark. Just before the darkness swallowed her however, a silhouette stepped over her, and laughter was all she heard as she passed out.

Author's Note

The game begins anew! Who's done what to who? The time for wild accusations of now... not that I've given you a lot to go by.
As with Chapter 2, the updates for this chapter will be spread out, so you can expect part 2 on Friday (may be subject to change).