“Look, it’s those ‘humans’ again.”

Roseluck looked up from her stall at Daisy’s observation, spotting the group of five. She shuddered at the sight of them, all of them in weird clothing that covered their entire bodies apart from their heads. All wore long, grey coats with concealing hoods, a far cry from the normal ornate clothing that was worn. It wasn’t just their appearance that scared her however; it was mainly the piercing gazes that the bipeds shot at surrounding ponies.

“I wonder what they’re at the market for?” she whispered back to Daisy, the two florists watching as the humans walked up to a vegetable stall.

“Who knows, but I don’t trust them. Look at the way they stare at everypony, they’re up to something.”

Instead of replying, Roseluck continued to watch the creatures purchase a bag of carrots from the nervous Carrot Top. Daisy was right, the way all five bipeds glanced around certainly seemed suspicious. One of them turned to her, Roseluck shivering when the pair of beady brown eyes passed over.

The biggest human reached into its cloak and withdrew a large coin bag, beginning to count out the correct payment for the carrots. They hadn’t even haggled over the price, but she recalled overhearing the town Jeweller mention that the five had sold him a large amount of fine diamonds when they had first arrived a week ago.

Ponies gave the five a wide berth, the creatures projecting an aura of fear and menace. Roseluck and Daisy watched on while the purchase was completed, the bipeds grabbing up the bag and hurrying back towards the Ponyville Inn where they had been staying.

Roseluck knew this information from the town meeting that Princess Twilight Sparkle had called, urging everypony to treat the new creatures with the same respect as they would a pony. The humans had refused to answer questions or even appear at their own welcome party that Pinkie Pie had thrown, using the excuse that they were just passing through.

Suddenly, a young, earth pony mare trotted out from the side of a stall, colliding with the legs of the lead biped. Both crashed down to the ground in a blur of grey cloak, tan fur and brown mane.

“Hide!” Daisy shouted while ducking behind her stall, the humans pulling strange but intimidating objects from their clothing. Roseluck followed her friend’s advice, taking shelter behind her own stall while ponies screamed in fear and bipeds yelled.

“Is it them!?” A young male voice asked, seeming to Rose to be just as terrified as everyone else.

“They got Simon!” A female called, slightly more stable than the other voice. Roseluck continued to hide, the sounds of a scuffle breaking out in the market square will ponies bolted past in a hurry to escape.

“Please, please I’m so sorry! Don’t hurt me please!”

The sounds of fighting died down. Roseluck breathed deep and poked her head around the side of her stall, looking in towards the scene.

The biped who had fallen down was getting back up, the mare who had crashed into him cowering on the ground while the other four humans pointed their metal objects at her.

“It’s just a pony,” the female human breathed out, all of the bipeds lowering what Roseluck assumed were weapons of some kind. The mare they were talking about seemed on the verge of tears, the human who had fallen over bending down to help her up to her hooves.

“It’s okay,” he reassured softly. “You made a mistake and we made a mistake, we won’t hurt you.” Roseluck watched on while the mare sniffled, before looking up at the human.

“You… you mean it?” she asked, receiving a nod in return.

“I do, are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” the mare answered, the human patting her on the head before he knelt down to pick up the bag of carrots from the dusty ground.

“Good, just try to be more careful next time.” The human started forwards again, the rest of his group following him while shooting the mare warning glances.

“I will,” the mare called back, before approaching the flower stalls. Roseluck watched and waited until the humans were out of sight before standing back up. Daisy did the same, just in time to find the dirty mare point to a vase of daisies.

“A bunch of daisies please,” the mare asked, her eyes low while she used her mouth to open the coin purse around her neck. Daisy took a few moments to move, but after jolting she began to pick out the daisies that had been ordered. Roseluck waited until the mare had placed the ten bits needed on the counter before she glanced down at her selection of roses.

“Here,” she offered, pushing a lone rose across towards the mare. “On me, you look pretty shaken up.”

“Thank you,” the grateful pony accepted before taking the rose. “I’ll be fine, it was just so scary.”

“Yeah, those humans are pretty terrifying,” Roseluck replied, earning a slight smile from the teary mare.

“Humans?” the mare asked, Daisy finishing putting the ordered daises in a bag.

“That’s apparently what those bipeds are called, or at least that’s what they told Princess Sparkle when she visited them.”

“She sure seems keen to learn about them,” Daisy added with a frown, Roseluck giving her a warning look. Daisy had never been good with new things, and had constantly complained to Rose and Lily about the Princess’s interest in the new creatures. Even though Roseluck agreed with her on this matter, now was not the time to focus on that. Looking at the mare in front of them, Rose could see that she was still teary-eyed.

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around in Ponyville before,” Rose asked, the new pony giving her a smile.

“It’s Mellow,” she answered, turning around to show the two friends her left flank. Her cutie-mark was three pink marshmallows floating in a cup of cocoa, Mellow turning back around after both had gotten a good look. “I run a café in Manehattan, and I’m taking a short break in Ponyville for the week.”

“Oh?” Daisy asked, Rose sharing her curiosity. “You don’t sound like you’re from Manehattan.”

“I grew up in a small farming town, smaller even than Ponyville,” Mellow explained. “I only opened my café a year ago, so I haven’t picked up the city accent yet.” She smiled, picking up the brown paper bag of daises with her mouth and placing it in a yellow saddlebag on her right flank. “I hope I don’t ever pick it up, part of the reason I chose Ponyville to holiday in is because of the small town charm. It reminds me of home.”

“I can see why,” Roseluck answered, before glancing at Daisy and raising an eye. Daisy nodded with a smile, Rose turning back to Mellow with a grin. “Listen Mellow, me and Daisy join some other friends for tea every night. Tonight it’s at my house; do you want to come along?”

Mellow smiled in return, no more tears welling up in her blue eyes.

“I’d love to,” she answered before glancing back at her saddlebag. “I’ll make the same daisy salad that I do for my café.”

“Sounds great,” Daisy replied.

“It sure does,” Rose agreed while turning back to face Mellow. “Seven o’clock at thirty-five Main Street. It’s the house with the rose garden at the front.”

“I never would have guessed,” Mellow joked, all three mares laughing before Mellow waved a hoof goodbye. “I’ve got to do some more shopping, but I’ll be sure to be there.”

“You can tell us more about Manehattan!” Daisy called out to the disappearing mare, getting a nod in return. Mellow disappeared around a street corner, ponies gradually starting to fill the market square again. “She was nice,” Daisy commented while leaning on her stall, Roseluck nodding her head in agreement.

“She was, it’s a shame that those nasty humans scared her though.”

“The Hell was that back there?”

Simon Vergas placed the bag of carrots on the table, the group of five squeezed into the small Inn room. He turned to his four subordinates, examining each one while they lowered their hoods.

“We thought you were under attack,” Stez mumbled, the meek teenager fidgeting with his pale hands.

“Stez is right,” Harriet agreed, running a hand through her short cut, black hair. “It was a pony this time, but you know as well as we do that there’s always the chance that it won’t be a pony next time.” Simon sighed, glancing over to the object that had started all of this.
A simple black briefcase sat on the table next to the carrots, normal apart from the high-tech bio-lock that held the metal container shut tight.

“I know,” he replied, scratching his hairless head. “We’re just lucky that we got teleported to a planet with a peaceful population, pulling out guns every time one of them bumps into us is not a good idea. Lazarus knows, we don’t want to ruin the trust that the local Princess has given us.”

“I don’t trust that purple horse one bit,” Alexis grunted, the dour man removing his cloak to drape it over a chair. With the heavy garment gone, his lanky form was revealed. A simple set of grey military fatigues from their home planet of Solarium was all that he was wearing, two heavy grey handguns holstered at his waist.

“They’re called ‘ponies’,” the last one of the group corrected, a heavy-set man named Aries. “I agree with Alexis though, we’re taking too great a risk staying here. We’re far better off in the forest than this local town, at least there we can hunt our own food.”

“Not going to happen,” Simon refused, sitting down on the edge of the sturdy table. “Sure, we may certainly have the guns,” he gestured to the pile of ballistic rifles leaning up against the wall near the single bed. “But that forest is far from safe. You all heard the roars that come from it, staying in this town is the best option at the current time.”

“It seems like the big, brave soldier is scared of a few animals,” Alexis taunted, Simon brushing off the insult. The last week had been a test of their will, and a few strained nerves were to be expected on this mission.

“Shame we can’t all be like the buff, handsome public transport worker,” Harriet turned on Alexis, the two never having gotten along.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alexis replied after he marched over to her and poked her chest. “I could have sworn that you were a waitress, not exactly a high-up position there-“

“Enough!” Simon interrupted, Aries and Stez moving to the back of the room to avoid the argument. Harriet and Alexis turned their glares on their leader; Simon however returned it with an unflinching glaze. “We’re all soldiers now, fighting for our freedom. We are accepted by the leaders of this country, we’ve got a place to stay and we only have to avoid detection and keep the cargo entrusted to us safe. Don’t spoil it by acting like children.”

“I don’t give a crap about us being ‘soldiers’, soldiers fight enemies, not spend their time hiding in towns with talking ponies!” While he complained, Alexis moved over to the pile of guns.

“Alexis,” Simon warned, his hand sliding down to the butt of the pistol concealed on his cloak.

“Relax,” Alexis growled, picking up a compact machine pistol and shoving it into a spare holster on his chest. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Out by yourself? It’ll be dark soon!” Stez spoke up, Alexis ignoring him and putting his coat back on.

“What difference does the dark make? At least that means fewer ponies to stare at me all the damn time.” With those parting words, Alexis exited the room and slammed the wooden door behind him.

“Should we go after him?” Harriet asked. “He’s armed after all, and the ponies are too inquisitive for their own good. What happens if that Princess Sparkle bumps into him?”

“Let him go,” Simon answered, raising his hand to stop any complaints. “Alexis just needs some time alone. We’re safe in this town, they won’t even think to look for us in a populated area, and that’s even if they know that we came to this planet. The biggest danger right now is us tearing at each other’s throats.” He turned to look at the door, the rest of the group staring with him.

“Well,” Aries spoke up after a few moments of silence. “We’ve got carrots, potatoes and spices. I’ll cook us some of that stew you all love, hopefully Alexis is back by the time it’s done.”

Simon continued to gaze at the door while the others moved around him, hoping that the frustrated Alexis wouldn’t cause any trouble for the ponies.

“Stupid fucking Simon and his talk about duty.”

Alexis grumbled to himself as he walked down the alley, kicking trash cans as he went. He was sick of the stares, the whispers as they passed by. He just wanted to go home, stuff the mission for all he cared.

He had taken the alley instead of the street, hoping to avoid as many ponies as possible. It was already dark, this certain planet having a wacked out day and night cycle. Instead of a gradual lowering, the sun and the moon raised and lowered within minutes. Still, the local ponies also spoke the same language as him, something that was far weirder than a fast raising moon and sun.

“Stupid ponies,” Alexis continued, his mood still not improving. He gave a trash can a particularly hard kick with his heavy boot, the metal clanging as it buckled in.

A second crash behind him caused him to whirl around, Alexis fumbling in his cloak for his machine pistol. He pointed it outwards, straight at the cause of the noise.

The cause being the same mare that had crashed into Simon at the market, the pony looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

“Fuck’s sake,” Alexis breathed out while lowering the gun. “Pony, do you have any idea how close you just came to being killed?”

“K-killed?” the mare repeated with a squeak, almost dropping the bag she held in her mouth.

“Yes, killed,” Alexis answered with a gesture towards his gun. “What are you even doing back here this late?” He softened at the terrified look on her face; even he had to admit that it was hard to stay mad at a cute pony face. It must have been the wide, doe eyes that they all seemed to have.

“I was taking a shortcut to a friend’s house, sorry Mister Human.”

“It’s alright,” Alexis sighed, stepping aside to let her pass. He tucked his gun back in his cloak, the pony looking up at him thankfully before she trotted past him. Alexis noticed that she sped up when she passed him, no doubt wanting to get as far away from the ‘scary human’ as possible. He watched her leave the alley before he took a seat on the cleanest trash can lid, leaning up against the wall and placing his head in his hands.

‘Where did it all go wrong?’ he thought to himself, the cool breeze blowing through the alley not bothering him thanks to his cloak. Another crash came from further down the alley, Alexis ignoring it this time and blaming it on the mare he had encountered. ‘Clumsy pony.’

A second crash caught his attention, this one closer than the first. He glanced up, and he slowly withdrew his machine pistol once again.

“Pony mare?” he called out, having not caught her name. “Are you okay?”

He received no answer, the alley falling into silence once more. Slowly, Alexis got off his seat and walked towards the noise, his gun held out in front on him.

Hooves clacked on a wooden floor, a beige unicorn stallion walking out of a bathroom into a decent sized bedroom.

Shetlock gave himself a once over in the full-length mirror next to his bed, making sure that his grey tie was straight and that his detective’s hat was sitting on his blond mane perfectly. He nodded to himself, his dark-blue vest already containing his notepad and pencils. Walking over to his counter, Shetlock retrieved his Manehattan police badge from beside his numerous awards and decorations.

Smiling to himself as he clipped it on, he made his way through the average-sized house, the small front garden and onto the busy street. He hummed as he walked amongst the early-morning crowd, ponies of all types filing forwards towards the centre of the city. He had been lucky in managing to find a house so close, meaning that his walk to work wasn’t long.

Shetlock glanced around him as he walked, always keeping an eye out for criminal activity. He was sure that he didn’t really need to worry, Manehattan rarely had crimes more serious than petty theft or drunken brawls after the main criminal gang had been taken into custody.

He loved the city, every tap of his hooves on pavement music to his ears. Born and raised in the inner city, living and working amongst the crowds of city ponies was heaven to him.

Such was his good mood, Shetlock made it to the station without even noticing the journey. He climbed the white stone steps, the uniformed officer at the main doors nodding his head in greeting.

“Morning Detective.”

“Good Morning, Constable,” Shetlock merrily replied, the officer smiling at him and opening the glass doors. Shetlock nodded in thanks and strolled into the station’s lobby, both regular officers and detectives going in all directions. His morning coffee the first thing on his mind, Shetlock headed straight to his office on the second floor.

After yet more stairs, he passed rows of offices belonging to other detectives before coming across his own. He paused for a second, a smile firm on his face as he read the name plate attached to the oak door.

‘Detective W.Shetlock, Major Crimes.’

Grasping the door knob with his yellow magic, Shetlock opened it and walked in. Leaving the door open, he flicked on the lights and placed his hat on a stand by the door. His task done, he turned to his desk, his papers and pencils neatly stacked in the appropriate holders and containers. With a frown, he noticed a stray pencil on the side near his desk lamp. Shaking his head, he used his magic to straighten it up and return it to the appropriate jar. His tidy done, he grinned and leaned down to the draws underneath the desk.

Shetlock retrieved the packet of coffee beans and placed it on the desk, going back down to pick up his coffee maker. He considered the privilege of having his own coffee maker in his office one of the best perks of his detective rank.

‘Totally worth the year of detective training,’ he thought with a smile, already able to taste the freshly-brewed coffee. Humming a tune to himself, Shetlock plugged in the machine and poured in enough beans for two cups.

It was Monday after all, not even his good mood could take away that fact.

Just as he was about to start it however, Detective Gumshoe poked his head in through the door.

“Yo, Shetlock,” the older stallion greeted. “The Chief wanted to see you in his office, pronto.”

“Can I grab my coffee first?” Shetlock asked, raising an eyebrow at his co-worker. “I’ll make you a cup as well, the beans are straight from Zebrica.” Gumshoe grimaced, shaking his head.

“I’d love to, Shetlock, but the Chief was pretty insistent that you see him right away.” Gumshoe entered the small office, the slightly overweight stallion narrowing his eyes and placing a yellow hoof up to his mouth. “There’s a Royal Guard in his office as well, so it must be pretty serious.”

“A Royal Guard?” Shetlock repeated, his eyes raising in surprise.

“Yep,” Gumshoe replied, adjusting his black tie. “Full armour and all. You better hurry; it takes a lot to get one of the golden boys down to talk to us lowly cops after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Shetlock sighed, hitting the button to start the coffee machine. “Do me a favour and watch the coffee, you’ll get a cup of course.”

“I have no issue with that.”

Shetlock smiled and squeezed past his fellow, heading back out into the station. He walked down the corridor, passing the open muster area were everyone was hard at work, and headed to Chief Beat’s office. His good mood faltered slightly when he passed the two uniformed officers sitting down outside the office door, the stallion and mare nodding at him respectfully.

“Chief’s waiting for you,” the mare told him, Shetlock nodding his thanks before opening the door and walking in.

“Ah, Shetlock!” the middle-aged stallion greeted while standing up from his large desk. The Chief pointed his grey hoof towards the left of the room, a single Royal Guard standing straight at attention. “This is Lieutenant Strike, from the Canterlot office. The Guard are requesting our help with a case in the town of Ponyville.”

“What kind of case?” Shetlock asked, alarm bells going off in his head. Something about this wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just the armoured Royal Guard with a sword at his side either.

“I haven’t been told,” Chief Beat replied, only growing Shetlock’s concern. “All the Lieutenant asked for was a reliable detective with an experience with violent crime. Given your excellent work on the Torneighdos crime ring case, the promising young stallion that is yourself was my first choice. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know.”

“You need to come with us to Ponyville immediately,” Lieutenant Strike informed from the side as Beat sat back down. “You’ll be away for a couple of days, but everything will be provided.”

“What am I walking into?”

“I can’t tell you, my orders are to escort you to Ponyville where my superior will brief you.”

“This is top level stuff, Shetlock,” Beat spoke up. “You pull this off, and I’ll give you your own team and a promotion to go with it.”

Shetlock considered the information. From the sounds of it, this particular case was incredibly important and possibly dangerous. He would be under immense pressure, not only from his chief, but from the Royal Guard as well. On the other hoof, a promotion and his own team were the rewards, Shetlock always having desired the elusive role of lead detective. He glanced from his smiling boss to the stoic guard, his mind reaching one conclusion.

It wasn’t like he could refuse the Chief, and when he got back he’s have the experience of working alongside he guard under his belt.

“I’ll do it.”

“That’s great!” Beats happily declared, brushing his black mane out of his face. “See Lieutenant? I told you that Shetlock was a good choice. Barely a stallion, yet he aced the detective courses and closed one of this city’s biggest cases. He won’t fail you.”

“We’re counting on it,” Lieutenant Strike nodded. “Now, time is of the essence, come along Detective.”

The guard exited the office without a farewell to the Chief, Shetlock receiving a smile of encouragement from his boos before he followed the soldier. The pair walked down the corridor, not heading for the front doors but rather the back entrance of the station. They passed uniformed officers, Shetlock receiving curious looks when everyone stared at the guard escorting him, the sight breaking up the station’s early morning routine.

When they reached the back doors, Shetlock was surprised to see another two guards, these one saluting the Lieutenant before opening the doors.

Shetlock’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on what waited him, a full Royal Guard chariot sitting in the back courtyard. Ten pegasi waited around it, a further four guards were harnessed to the vehicle and ready for take-off.

“By Celestia…” Shetlock breathed out in awe, one of the guards opening the chariot door.

“Indeed, Princess Celestia herself was adamant that this matter be resolved as quickly as possible,” Lieutenant Strike told him before gesturing towards the open chariot door with a wing.

Shetlock hurried over, doing a quick check of his things before he entered the awaiting transport. When his hoof ran over his mane, he realised that he had forgotten something important.

“My hat,” he lamented out loud, remembering that he had put it on his stand.

“There is no time,” Strike told him from behind. “Get in the chariot.”

“Yes sir,” Shetlock quickly acknowledged, before climbing into the chariot that would take him into a situation that he would never forget.
He still hadn’t had his coffee, either.

Shetlock shakily exited the chariot, only relaxing when his hooves hit solid ground. The journey had passed in a blur, the pegasi pulling the chariot not taking their time. Looking upwards, Shetlock took note of the sun’s position and came to the conclusion that barely an hour had passed since he had left the station.

“This way,” Lieutenant Strike directed, the guard dismounting the chariot with practiced ease. He trotted towards the town at a steady pace, the chariot parked on a grassy hill just on the outskirts. Shetlock followed, five other guards moving with them.

As they passed the first row of country houses, Shetlock noted with alarm that it seemed as if half the entire guard force was occupying the small town. Guards of both the unicorn and pegasus variety were patrolling the streets, the town’s citizens peering out of windows while they stayed in their houses.

Their group approached what Shetlock figured was the market area, numerous stalls in varying states of readiness crowding the cobbled street. He glanced around at each one, guessing that they had been abandoned in a panic. There were still crates of vegetables and other goods lying out, some spilling onto the street. The majority of the guards were focused in this area, thirty of them cordoning off a single alley way with their spears at the ready.

“Was it a gang fight, a brawl?” Shetlock questioned, Lieutenant Strike’s stony façade fading for a moment when he let out a snort.
“A gang, in Ponyville? No, this is much worse than a fight.”

‘I doubt anything can be as bad as some of the gang fights I’ve seen,' Shetlock thought while they approached the alley, remembering one particular case when two gang members had pulled knives on each other.

“Ah, Lieutenant,” a gruff voice called out, a unicorn guard in more ornate armour approaching them.

“Major Bastion,” Strike returned with a salute, the other five guards doing the same. Shetlock glanced around at them before refacing the Major, nodding his head. He didn’t know what else to do. Thankfully, the Major gave him a smile, but Shetlock could see… something in his eyes.

“I take it you’re the Detective that I asked for?”

“I am sir, Detective Shetlock of the Manehattan Police Department, Major Crimes.” Shetlock went to tip his hat, but he remembered that he didn’t have it. “So, what exactly are we dealing with? I’ve never seen this many guards in one place.” Shetlock and the two guard officers glanced over to the alley way as a single guard rushed out, the young stallion hurrying for a nearby bin.

“We’re dealing with something that makes a trained soldier sick, Detective,” Bastion answered blankly. “I must warn you, it’s not a pretty sight.”

“I may be young,” Shetlock started. “But I’ve seen some things in the city. Besides, from the sounds of it the sooner this is over, the better.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the Major replied, before heading towards the alley. Shetlock and Strike followed him, the guards blocking the entrance parting to allow them through.

Shetlock glanced at the vomiting soldier, the guard leaning into the bin. It was at that moment that Shetlock began to question whether this was a good idea, but he was already in the alley so it was too late to back out.

“Down here, watch where you place your hooves.”

Frowning at the warning, Shetlock looked down. Seeing only stone, he wondered what was so important that he had to avoid. The Major swerved in front of him, and it was then that Shetlock saw what they were trying to avoid.

A puddle of dried blood was soaked into the ground, the distinctive copper smell unmistakeable. Pausing to examine the puddle, Shetlock continued on. The smell of blood grew stronger, guards marking the walls of the alley with chalk.

‘Why are they...’ his thoughts were cut off, Shetlock’s eyes widening when a guard moved a lantern to the side.
The walls were covered in blood streaks, some of them reaching up to the rooves of the surrounding buildings.

“What in Celestia’s name happened?” Shetlock whispered, awed and sickened at what could have caused blood spray like that.

“That’s nothing,” Major Bastion answered sadly. “Take a look.”

Shetlock hesitantly approached the guard’s side, looking out into the middle of the alley.

The area was surrounded with trash cans, all of them spilled over with the contents pouring out. White sheets, numbering twenty-three, were spread out over the area, hiding blood-stained lumps underneath. No one stopped him when he moved to the closest and largest sheet, a pit forming in his stomach when he smelt more blood. His horn glowed and lifted up a corner of the sheet, Shetlock staring at the object hidden underneath.

He couldn’t figure out what it was, the pallid pink object was stained brown in places. It was almost as large as a pony, but looked like nothing he had seen before. Major Bastion must have noticed his confusion, the guard moving up beside him.

“It’s a torso,” he informed.

Shetlock put the pieces together, his breakfast threatening to come back up. He dropped the corner of the sheet and turned away, breathing in and out to stop himself from vomiting. Guards shot him sympathetic looks, more than one possessing a green face themselves. Shetlock took a few moments to get his stomach under control, turning back towards the Major after his nausea was no longer a threat.

“From what? That’s not a pony there.”

“Do you know what a ‘human’ is?” Major Bastion inquired, Shetlock shaking his head. “There are five, well, four now, staying in the local inn. Princess Twilight Sparkle was in the process of finding out more about them.”

“So I’m guessing she’s the reason for all the guards?”

“Aside from the fact that something was butchered in an alleyway, then yes.” Shetlock looked back to the remains, the guards starting to collect them and locking them away in enchanted cold boxes. “Also, we’re missing a part.”

“Which one?”

“His head,” Bastion replied with a grimace. “We’ve searched the alley and the entire town; it’s nowhere to be found.”

“This is just getting weirder and weirder,” Shetlock commented with a shake of his head. He looked at the major, tilting his head to the side. “You said there were other humans?” The Major nodded at the question, gesturing for Shetlock to follow.

“They were all staying in the inn like I said, although I wouldn’t bother trying to question them. Last I heard, they refused to leave their room, and threated to ‘shoot’ anypony who tried to get in. We just gave up and left them alone; Princess Sparkle suggested that we give them time.” Bastion and Shetlock walked back to the alley entrance, passing yet more guards processing the crime scene.

Shetlock assumed that the guards were doing it because the town wasn’t large enough for its own police force; either that or the Ponyville police didn’t want to touch the case. Still, if it meant that he didn’t have to touch the body parts then he was fine with it. The pair reached the entrance, Lieutenant Strike having remained at the crime scene. Shetlock spotted the inn’s sign in the distance, starting to head towards it. He was halted when a hoof was placed on his withers.

“Listen, Shetlock,” Major Bastion began. “You might have more luck with them, but watch yourself.”

“They don’t like ponies?” he questioned, receiving a head shake from Bastion.

“It’s not that, they’re scared. They’re scared and lashing out at anything that they see as a threat. Watch out, the last thing we need is a dead pony.” A shiver ran down Shetlock’s spine, the Major’s eyes filled with genuine concern. “This is bad, Detective. You’ve got the guard backing you up, and I’m placing Lieutenant Strike in charge of the guards that I leave behind. I’ve been told that you’re one of the best, Celestia knows that we need it.”

“Thanks, Major,” Shetlock replied with a smile. Bastion nodded, removed his hoof and disappeared back down the alley. Taking a breath of fresh, blood-free air, Shetlock started down the path and headed towards the inn.

“Humans? Those five are up on the second floor, room seventeen.”

Shetlock smiled politely at the elderly earth pony mare, the inn-keeper initially refusing to tell him about the humans until his badge was flashed. The olive-green pony gestured down towards a box by the counter, plain cardboard with no markings except for ‘Room Seventeen’ written on the top.

“Please do me a favour and take that up to them as well, it was at the front door when I opened up this morning.” The mare shuddered, Shetlock glancing down at the box. “Don’t get me wrong, they haven’t caused any trouble and are pretty quiet, except for yesterday evening, but there’s something off about them.”

“Something happened yesterday evening?” Shetlock inquired, levitating out his notepad and pencil.

“Yeah, they were arguing about something,” she answered, raising a hoof to her chin and rubbing it. “Soon after that, one of them, the tallest one, walked out mumbling to himself. I thought that was pretty strange, after all those humans haven’t gone anywhere before if it wasn’t in a group. I assume that he came back later on before I closed, I tend to leave the door unlocked in case guests want to return late.”

Shetlock nodded, already gaining some interesting information. As he wrote down the notes, he made a mental reminder to question the humans about the argument. They were apparently in possession of weapons, and Shetlock knew that weapons plus arguments usually ended in violence. Maybe this case wouldn’t be as long as he had thought.

“Thank you ma’am,” he acknowledged, putting his notepad and pencil away. Using his magic, he picked up the cardboard box. It wasn’t that heavy, and whoever had packed it must have been careless as he could hear the contents rolling around. “There was no sign of who delivered this box?”

“Nothing,” the innkeeper answered, before she narrowed her brown eyes in concentration. “Oh, there was a piece of paper with ‘Innsberg Sorting Accountants’ on the top, but it fell off and blew away when I picked the box up off the step. I haven’t heard of Innsberg though, it must be a town up north.”

“It probably is, they have a lot of ‘bergs’,” Shetlock agreed. “Well, I have a lot of questions to ask, so I better get going.” He nodded again and headed for the stairs, only making it up three steps before the Innkeeper halted him.

“Wait, do the humans have something to do with all the guards out in the town? I know a few guards came around early this morning, but I thought it was just because they were checking up on them?” Shetlock debated on telling the mare what had happened, but he figured that she would find out soon enough. A murder of a foreign creature would likely be the subject to talk about for weeks.

“That human who went out last night didn’t come back,” Shetlock answered, leaving the mare to figure out the rest.

“You mean…?”

“Yes, those guards this morning were likely the ones to break the news. Now I’m sorry, but I really do have to get going.”

“Oh, sure,” the mare mumbled, returning to her desk with her head hung low. Shetlock resumed the climb, reaching the top of the stairs with the box still in his magical grasp.

“Seventeen, seventeen,” he mumbled to himself, looking around for the door. He spotted it, Shetlock approaching it and placing to box down at the side. One hoof knock later, and he heard movement behind the barrier. Shetlock knocked again after a few moments, still no reply. “Excuse me, I’m Detective Shetlock from the police, I’m investigating the murder of your friend and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Shetlock waited, some hushed whispers audible before a lock was unlatched. The door was cracked open, and a black barrel was stuck out. Shetlock stared at it, something about it seemed menacing.

“Are you alone?” a tired male voice asked, Shetlock clearing his throat before replying.

“I am, I only want to ask a few questions.”

The door opened a little more, a pink-skinned head poking out and looking around. Shetlock examined it while he waited, a small pair of brown eyes settling on him. No hair covered the human’s head, his mouth flat and expressionless. Shetlock was unable to see anything else, a heavy grey cloak covering the human from the head town. He was tall though, almost as tall as two ponies.

“I doubt any questions will bring Alexis back,” the human snapped, before sighing. “Look, we’re all on edge at the moment. Can we do this another time?” Shetlock glanced down at the black barrel, now the door was open he could see that it was part of an object grasped in the human’s hand.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve been told to act with the utmost haste.”

The human sighed again, his eyes bloodshot. The barrel of what Shetlock assumed was a weapon lowered, however the human didn’t open the door any further or invite him in. “I guess that’s how it is, my name’s Simon, I believe that you said your name was Shetlock?”

“Detective Shetlock, from Manehattan,” Shetlock confirmed before taking out his notepad and pencil. “Now, I was told that you were informed of the murder this morning?”

“We were, apparently a shopkeeper noticed Alexis’ blood and found his body… or rather what was left of it.” Shetlock grimaced, feeling his stomach churn again. He did not need any reminder of that scene. “Then your Royal Guard told us, and then apparently the Princess wants to talk to us later today.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Shetlock informed, electing a cold chuckle from the human.

“Don’t be, it’s not like we weren’t expecting it to happen someday. I just thought that we’d be fairly safe in this town.” This raised a few more questions in Shetlock’s mind, the human sounding like he already knew who was responsible.

“I’ve been told that there was arguing up here last night,” Shetlock pressed on, his paper and pencil at the ready. “What was that about?”

“Oh, that,” Simon replied with a sad smile on his face. “Everyone was getting a little sick of always being cramped together, and Alexis wanted to take a walk by himself. He left, and the others wanted to go out and bring him back before he did anything stupid. I told them that this town was good, and that he’d be okay.” The human chuckled again, a dry chuckle with no humour at all. “Guess I was wrong.”
Shetlock shifted on his hooves uncomfortably, recognising the face of someone who felt responsible for a tragedy. Simon glanced back up at him, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Detective, Alexis took a few things with him, is it possible for us to get them back?” Simon nodded down at the black object in his hand. “Some things would be dangerous to ponies, and we kind of need all of the guns we can get.”

‘Guns?’ Shetlock questioned internally, writing the word down on his notepad. He looked down at the box on the ground, before facing Simon again. “The guards didn’t say anything about personal items, but I’ll see what they found when I head to the morgue. I can’t promise anything though.”

“It’s understandable,” Simon replied, running a hand down his face.

“There is this box, though.” Shetlock levitated it up to the human, Simon staring at it before grabbing it out of the air. “It was left at the front door, and the innkeeper asked me to bring it to you.”

“Thanks, I guess,” the human mentioned before he started to open it, Shetlock taking a step back when he pulled out a knife. The grey blade was long and sharp, one side serrated with lots of metal teeth. Simon plunged it into the box, cutting through the tape holding the flaps together. He opened it up, the human staring into the box silently.

“Detective,” he asked after a long moment, his voice flat. “Who delivered this box?” Shetlock checked his notepad for the name that the Innkeeper had told him.

“The innkeeper said that a piece of paper was on the top, with ‘Innsberg Sorting Accountants’ on it.”

Simon remained still, before he closed the box and set it down on the ground. “Thanks for trying to help, Detective,” he stated with a cold tone. “But you might as well give up. We’re dead men anyway, there is nothing you can do to stop it.” Simon started to close the door, pausing when Shetlock held out a hoof.

“Wait, what does that mean? Do you know who did it?”

“I’ll tell you one thing, pony,” Simon uttered sadly. “You seem like a good guy, drop it. Turn around and walk away, and tell your other pony friends to do the same. The less you know, the safer you are.” With that, Simon closed the door fully. Shetlock remained outside it, listening as the lock was re-latched and the sounds of scraping furniture could be heard. The door thumped as something was placed against it from the inside, Shetlock assuming that the humans had barricaded it with a heavy object.

With Simon’s words swimming around in his head, Shetlock quickly wrote down the information, before he put his notepad and pencil away. Turning to the box, he hesitantly used his magic to lift the flaps.

His cheeks bulged with vomit, Shetlock putting a hoof over his mouth and turning away. It was no use, and he vomited up his stomach contents onto the hard wooden floor. While he continued to heave, the box remained open with its contents exposed to the air.

The flayed human head that rested inside was locked in an expression of terror, the eyes plucked out with a single one attached to what was left of the forehead. A simple message was scrawled in blood on the back inside face of the box, a message so simple that even a foal could figure it out.

Five crude stick-figures matching the shape of the humans were drawn, one of them crossed out.

Author's Note

I'm sorry for the horse puns.