Decapitating Harmony

Chapter 3 - Trauma Center Traumatic

Envoy's hooves trembled with every note, every photo, and every collection of evidence. Somepony died here in this very spot, and it made her nervous to be there alone. She found herself simply staring at the bed in wonder at the evil that somepony would need in order to kill before shaking off the feeling and continuing her work.

Scroot Whinny had left with the others to rope-off the area where Spike was found, gather physical profiles of all the ponies who had been in the home after the murder took place, and compile statements while Envoy took down all the details of the home. Hours were spent making sure that the notes reflected exactly what she was seeing. She mapped out the blood spatter and noted the perfect right angle cut into the pool on the floor which indicated that, after the blood stopped flowing, something was removed from that spot. She assumed it was a rug that was used to wrap the bodies which may have been too small, but the killer probably couldn't get the one from under the bed. Envoy took custody of the hundreds of hairs found inside the home all of varying color and length. She couldn't imagine that Spike would be quick to answer any questions due to whatever condition he was afflicted with which must be why Scroot hadn't returned by now.

She paused once again staring at the black glow of the blood pools where Twilight's life came to a violent close. It wasn't that Envoy was a stranger to death because both of her parents were deceased, but they had passed on peacefully in the comfort of strong medications and a hospital bed. Even her very special somepony from years ago who fell 5 stories to his death while washing windows in Canterlot was nothing compared to this. She was sad that he was gone, but not sad in the way he died like Twilight's poor friends were going to be. Twilight appeared to have gone slowly in a losing fight while Envoy's very special somepony impacted his brain against the cobblestone and died instantaneously.

Her cruel imagination began to churn images of how this bloody mess could have occurred. Twilight could have been beaten with a blunt instrument, and with each strike, the object would have splashed the walls before she laid unconscious pouring blood onto the floor and soaking the bed. A stabbing is also likely whereas Twilight's heart would be pumping the blood directly to the walls. Envoy doubted the use of magic due to the novice skill required to cast a shield spell which would have prevented the blood from spattering all over the place, but she couldn't imagine how an earth pony or pegasus could get out of the house without leaving a blood trail to the door. She blinked the images out of her head and made her way outside.

Scroot had given strict instructions that Twilight's friends were to be out of the loop in regards to the apparent death of the alicorn. He felt it more appropriate to break the news after they recovered a body, and even then, he was going to let Celestia do it. Envoy convinced him that he didn't have a compassionate way with words, and she didn't want to make this whole experience more traumatizing than it inherently was going to be.

Envoy sauntered groggily hanging her head with fatigue and staring into the dirt in front of the library. The sun began its emergence from the horizon in a metaphorically cruel display of life. Although, sleep wasn't going to come easy after the scene she's studied all night.

Suddenly she realized what she was looking at: Two perfectly congruent lines softly pressed in the dirt just outside of the door leading away from the house disappearing into the grass a few meters away. Envoy took photos and made note of the cart tracks while taking measurements to make a cast of the hoof prints. The grass was very disturbed, but it was still hard to discern in the early morning light. She followed them making her way south to the train station where they vanished into the sea of cart tracks in the heart of Ponyville.

She began to think that the cart tracks were unrelated to the crime, but they looked too fresh to be so. This area was so populated during all hours of day and night especially by twenty-four seven delivery and commuting that it wouldn't make sense to parade a fresh kill straight through here. It was possible that the killer brought the cart here specifically to be lost in the disarray that stirred the dirt constantly, but she couldn't figure out how the tracks simply ceased to be.

Packing her notes and evidence containers in her saddle-bag, she started off toward the hospital to see what was holding up Scroot.

* * *

Scroot stood outside the hospital taking in the toxic smoke through the fiberglass filter of his cigarette. The dragon wasn't going to be talking for a day or two at least. He didn't know why he kept trying to talk to Spike. The doctors have done all they can, and he is getting better, but they know so little about dragons that the whole process has been experimental and slow. He swore that the next RN to tell him that they're doing the best they can, and that they're sorry, was going to get bucked in the mouth.

He let out a cloud of smoke thinking, 'This is for RN safety.'

Nurse Redheart made her way outside and stopped next to Scroot looking over him as he smoked. Sensing his frustration, she turned her gaze to the dirt path leading north-east into town.

Scroot remained motionless and silent only showing signs of life when the cigarette would glow as he pulled in deep and let it out like an exasperated sigh. She turned back to him opening her mouth like she was going to say something, but turned away again.

"If you're wanting to throw yourself at me, you're going to have to be a little more forthcoming." Scroot said with the cigarette bouncing in his lips.

"What?" Redheart recoiled for a moment, "That's not why I'm out here."

"Okay, than why else are you here and not in there trying to get my Spikey-wikey to start talking?" He said mocking Rarity's many pleas for the dragon to get better soon.

"I'm sorry, Scroot. I really am doing all I can." She said in an agitated tone.

Scroot looked at her with a raised brow imagining what her head would look like on the concrete steps after he kicked it off of her shoulders.

"I know." He sighed deciding to allow her pretty face to stay intact. "He's my only lead right now."

Redheart shrugged, "You never know if he'll remember anything. I'm surprised he's alive. That toxicology report was ugly."

"Don't jinx me, Redheart." He said returning to the thought of crushing her skull against the pavement with his hooves.

"I'm not trying to, Scroot. I'm just trying to let you know the reality of it. Poisoning like that destroys the brain." She explained.

"I know you don't know a lot about dragons, but how long do you think?" They're at a hospital. If he peeled the flesh from her face, she'd live.

"It could be hours, and it could also be weeks." She said looking to the north.

He nodded and thanked her for her services while coming to the conclusion that maiming her wouldn't do it. This bitch has got to die.

"Is that her?" Redheart asked pointing to Majesty Envoy cantering toward them.

"Yeah, that's my partner. Hey, do you happen to have a blowtorch?" Scroot asked.

"What?"

"Never mind."

Envoy approached them and nodded to Scroot without saying anything. Scroot sighed in a puff of smoke wondering why Envoy isn't giving him the details of the home immediately. So many ponies to kill and so little time.

"Well?" He asked finally while making his way to the smoker's butt can next to the door dropping his cigarette inside.

"I don't think you're supposed to smoke within 10 meters of the door." Envoy answered. Scroot rolled his eyes trying to come up with places to dispose of two bodies.

"I also don't think I give a shit. What did you find at the house?" He said.

She told him about the cart tracks and included that she wasn't sure if they were linked to the crime.

"Isn't it possible that the killer dumped the cart and didn't take them through the train station?" Scroot asked.

"Why would they dump the cart?" Envoy asked in return.

"To be less conspicuous." He answered.

Envoy cocked her head and asked, "How is carrying a couple of bodies less conspicuous than a cart?"

"If you're flying, Envoy." Scroot started back inside the hospital, "Our killer is a pegasus. You know what? On second thought; I'll have to take a look, but I'll bet bits to biscuits that they probably flew with the cart."

Scroot pushed open the door and sauntered back to Spike's room stopping outside as Envoy met with him with an incredulous look.

"Okay," She whispered, "then why dump Spike without her?"

"Weight." Scroot said simply. "Flying with a cart is risky because you'd chance losing your load. The dragon might have been throwing the distribution off."

She shrugged. She couldn't figure out why a pegasus would take a cart from Twilight's library in the first place. "Why not just fly from the crime-scene?"

Scroot shook his head, "Envoy, think. There isn't much from the train station to the Everfree Forest. There's a cottage and a couple of fields, but if you drop a body over Ponyville, what then?"

He started inside the room, but Envoy put a hoof on his shoulder, "Why take off in the busiest place in Ponyville?"

Scroot quietly laughed, "Because it's busy. If you're carrying something illegal, and you run into ponies, what do you do? You get the fuck out of there."

Envoy suddenly had a thought, "Why can't the killer be a unicorn? Levitation is easy and carrying two bodies would be simple enough with a fair amount of training."

"I guess it's possible," He said as he motioned toward the room, "but they had to have run through Ponyville with two dead bodies floating over their head. I don't think so. The suspect is a pegasus."

They entered the room finding the ponies sitting around Spike's hospital bed in silence interrupted by machines clicking and whirring. Spike's eyes lazily glanced between all of them half-shut. He looked up at Scroot without discern before continuing to shift his gaze around the room. He may have been awake, but he wasn't conscious.

Scroot said, "We're going."

Rainbow Dash looked over with a furrowed brow, "Don't you have work to do?"

"We've been up all night gathering evidence, profiles, and clues. Envoy and I are going to get a bit of rest and be back at this in the afternoon, alright?" Scroot said. He was slightly offended, but he'd been going off on Rainbow Dash all night; even he was tired of it.

It had been over 24 hours since Twilight was discovered missing; thus, with fatigue tugging their eyelids, the investigators went to their homes for a few hours rest before continuing their efforts.

* * *

Envoy closed the door behind her upon entering her tiny house. She had a modest one bedroom home which was only 250 square meters, but had plenty of room for her to do anything she needed. She wasn't a complicated filly.

She smiled at the pictures of her late very special somepony and asked him how he was doing while making her way to the kitchen where she left her saddlebag. She could imagine a romantic soundtrack playing as she was reunited with her bed.

The little unicorn went to her bedroom, pulled off her red button up, and carelessly tossed the shirt as she leapt over the bed landing on her back and bouncing to rest. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly closing her eyes awaiting slumber to overcome her consciousness much like Twilight did before being cut open and having her blood sprayed all over her room.

Envoy's eyes snapped open. She rubbed her face and cleared her mind shaking all thought out of her head. She turned over onto her side tucking a hoof under her pillow which is most likely the position that Twilight was laying when she was beaten by a blunt object that opened her skull and spilled her brains while she struggled to breathe through her broken face.

Staring at the ceiling, she tossed herself onto her back again. She thought to herself that she needed to replace these images with something else to get to sleep as she closed her eyes. Food was the first thing that popped into her head as transparent hay burgers floated around her. She could almost smell the fresh sliced tomatoes, seasoned hay bacon, and the warm buttery artisan roll bun. Her stomach gurgled as the feeling of emptiness filled her esophagus in an almost nauseating way.

She opened her eyes again, "Celestia, damn it. Now, I got to eat something."

Hopping out of bed, she cantered to the kitchen and put together a nice hot daisy with hay bacon bits, diced pickles, and mayonnaise on whole grain wheat bread folded over because she didn't care for hot daisy buns. She scarfed the messy creation and washed it down with a few sips of lemonade.

The unicorn pulled open the bedroom door and stared down the bed because it knew that it was going to get the shit slept out of it. She galloped across the short distance to the bed and tackled the comforter wrapping herself in its warmth and safety becoming still and restful.

She wasn't full, but that hot daisy sure hit the spot. She didn't feel empty like a gourd anymore which was helping her drift away from the tyranny of reality. Of course, if she was still too hungry to fall asleep, she didn't really have any more food to eat much in the same way that Twilight probably just didn't have any more blood to bleed.

Envoy jumped out of bed again, "Fucking son of a bitch!"

She retrieved her saddle bag and brought it to the living room beginning to analyze hair and research candy-lion forensic palynology.

* * *

It was 3 o' clock in the afternoon when Scroot trotted up the drive to Envoy's tiny clapboard bungalow. According to his friends, he had a signature 'cop-knock' that made occupants feel like they were in trouble no matter what their relationship to the investigator. He rapped two firm knocks on Envoy's door. He didn't understand the distinguished knock possibly because he had never been on the other side of it.

Envoy opened the door with a tug of her magic and stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee levitated by her head. Her mane was entangled and her coat appeared sticky in a disheveled display of sweaty concentration. Scroot leaned to peer inside seeing the spread of photos and notes scribbled over her easel in the unicorn's calligraphic print. She couldn't have gotten any sleep that morning.

"Did you sleep at all?" Scroot smiled.

She raised a brow not seeing the humor in her situation.

His light mood faded quickly, "I'm sorry, Envoy." He apologized. "I remember my first murder case. A foal had got to crying for too long so his mother gave him the pillow. I didn't sleep either."

She sighed as she began to explain what she had found. The hair was complicated due to a certain rainbow mane pegasus that was in the house after the murder, but she managed to nail down that the killer must be blue evident the blue coat hairs found on the bed covers. She explained that the killer was most likely female based on hoof size unless they were a small colt, and that the profile would remain too loose to come up with a solid suspect without a body or weapon.

She continued, "The palynology is going to be the major incriminating factor in this case. I think it's too early to start pointing hooves, but so far, candy-lion pollen is our biggest lead." Envoy took a sip from her coffee tasting the nearly unpalatable drink that had been cold for at least an hour.

Scroot nodded in thought, “Are you thinking of somepony in particular?”

Envoy sighed hard and pressed her lips into a thin line, “I don't know if there's enough evidence against her. Until we find something concrete, something at the scene of a crime which doesn't have a revolving door of ponies, I don't think we should bring it up to anypony.”

He looked over her notes giving her time to shower and get dressed. Scroot copied the easel onto his notepad finding himself impressed by Envoy's diligent and thorough work. Her suspect, however, disturbed him. Her finds were conclusive albeit incident from the relationship of the victim to the proposed killer, but he felt that it was probably appropos due to his interaction with the suspect.

Before leaving to Spike's dump site. Envoy went to the hospital to check on the little dragon in hopes of getting a testimony.

As he approached the scene, he noticed immediately the lack of candy-lions in the area. The bushes there were disturbed where Spike had been dropped between them. The outsides of the plants had been pressed toward one another in an attempt to cover him up. Hoof marks in the mud showed where the assailant scooped the earth to further conceal the body.

He took note of the cart tracks that pointed deeper into the Everfree Forest. He bagged a few rogue hairs that were embedded into the dirt and in the leaves of the bushes after taking more photos of the scene in the daylight.

He walked scanning the tracks figuring that the pegasus didn't want to risk dropping the body into the Everfree Forest for fear of not being able to recover it. The forest was consistently habited by potion makers and other ponies attempting to gather various materials which naturally made it an unfortunate place to leave a body. He could only assume that the killer intended to return for Spike, but possibly was rushed due to the approaching sunlight.

The trail led to an imposing looking cottage decorated in hoof carved wooden masks that communicated foreign meanings. They were decidedly dark in appearance and looked more like a deterrent than the welcome they intended.

He approached the door knowing of a Zebra that lived there and knocked announcing his presence, "Investigations."

The zebra answered the door with a raised brow. She was apparent in her lack of expectance to the unknown visitor as she introduced herself, "Hello, I am Zecora, Mister Investigator. I don't believe we've met before." She spoke in cadence with a deep punctual voice putting stress on rhyming.

"I'm Scroot Whinny and I'm investigating a disappearance of a pony in Ponyville." He explained pointing to his small P.I. badge on his left breast.

"A disappearance that calls for action indeed. I recently became aware of the missing pony. I consider Twilight Sparkle to be a dear friend. How do you think this investigation will end?"

Scroot wasn't sure how to answer. He scratched the back of his head searching for the appropriate words. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure."

She nodded, "This I understand, Mr. Whinny, but what is it that you need of me?"

"Evidence has led me to the Everfree Forest and I may need a guide." Scroot said gesturing south, "I'm looking for candy-lions."

Zecora exited the residence and closed the door, "If navigation of the forest is what you desire, I believe I have the knowledge and skill you require."

Scroot smiled, "Thanks, Zecora. Please keep in mind, until the investigation is concluded, anything we find is going to be extremely privileged."

"Rest assured that I am trustworthy. Anything we may see will stay between you and me." Zecora stated as they began to make their way south deeper into the Everfree Forest.

They followed the tracks along the dank trail while Zecora casually noted in her accented speech the foliage that was around them along the way. As they neared Froggy Bottom Bogg where a massive grove of small weeds grew under the canopy that blocked the sunlight almost completely, Scroot observed fearsome giant, thick vines which were outstretched into the tree branches. The vines were covered in irregularly placed spikes which were dripping with clear sludge.

Zecora gestured to the vines that lined either side of the path as they walked, "Beware of the Terror Spines with the deadly goo. One touch of the spikes would be the last that you do. The vines cannot move and will always stay still,” She pointed to a dead cockatrice lying against them, "unless something manipulates producing a kill."

Scroot peered through the vines from the trail. In the midst of the bright green weeds and black vines, there was a blotch of tan and brown. He pointed out the dead owl, "How many of those do you see in this area?"

Zecora stopped as her heart sank, "That creature I have seen before. The pet of the pony we are looking for."

"So, I am right to assume that you don't have a whole lot of owls around here." He noted the dead pet and his location.

Zecora became uneasy, "I was trying to remain in optimism for the princess we'd find, but I feel that this owl is a very bad sign."

The investigator sighed, "It's certainly not good, but we need to continue."

They made their way further south through Froggy Bottom Bogg out from under the tree cover where the enormous field of candy-lions grew. The trail was overgrown with the meter-tall flowers and led to Ghastly Gorge to the south-west. A patch of dirt conveniently hosted lines pointing to a small wooden flatbed sled hidden amongst the trees.

He wasn't surprised that he had found the source of the tracks, but the fact that it ended up not being a cart was interesting. The surface of the sled was covered in relatively large brown ovals where blood had soaked into the wood. He took photos from every angle and found Twilight's hair that had been caught in the splintered ends of the planks. The harness attached to the front was molded flexible rubber and had grasped onto several light blue hairs that presumably belonged to the killer pony that had pulled the macabre load.

Scroot looked to the cliff about a hundred yards from them with a sinking feeling. The area is untouched by ponies, secluded from civilization, and with kilometers of canyon stretching all the way to the San Palomino Desert, it was the perfect place. He couldn't quite place what was so emotionally stirring about the scene. He knew what he was about to find, and it hadn't bothered him on previous cases. He thought to himself that he had come to terms with never having to look at another gruesomely murdered victim ever again, but then this case falls into his hooves.

Taking a deep breath in preparation, he said to Zecora, "I think you need to stay here. There are hoof-prints that I want to remain undisturbed."

It was a valiant effort in lying about preserving evidence, but Zecora was too intelligent not to pick up the somber body language unintentionally displayed by Scroot as she pursed her lips and frowned in understanding of the situation that Scroot was prepared to walk into. The bright sun, brilliant smell of the flowers, and the cool breeze did little to hide the death shrouding them in bleak darkness.

Approaching the cliff, Scroot observed the crushed flowers on the edge of the bluff where it appeared that something was placed on them and pushed off the edge.

His breath slowed while looking over the bluff. The embankment was steep with small bushes riddled throughout the side of the valley, and a slender tree grew sideways from the dirt curling upward into the sky. The tree had a rug wrapped carelessly on its trunk hanging over several blemishes in the mud consecutively marking each mound on the way down as if drawing a line pointing to a barely discernible purple shape resting in the shallows of the creek below.

All of the bullshit he'd been dealing with from impatient ponies that hired him for the most meaningless crap had hardened his senses and made him callous. Seeing Twilight revitalized the sobering part of him that he hadn't accessed in years realizing once again the truly fucked up shit that ponies can do to one another.

Scroot returned to the zebra, thanked her, and dismissed her from further assistance before travelling back to Ponyville in the setting sun to retrieve Majesty Envoy.

* * *

Envoy could see the ache in his heart as she bagged evidence and used her magic to safely retrieve the body of Owlicious from the deadly plants. Nurse Redheart took custody of the owl and the sled was sent to their cabin to be locked away until they could take a closer look.

They made their way down to Twilight Sparkle's final resting place taking photographs of the small amounts of blood spatter on the rocks where her body had crashed before coming to rest in the creek. The duo split leaving Scroot to observe the body while Envoy examined the purple rug which had been used to wrap the body and must have gotten caught on the tree on her way down. All she could find was a single mane hair embedded in the rug's fibers before joining Scroot at Twilight's side.

The moon had begun its journey as Scroot and Envoy set up lighting to take photographs of the grotesque scene. Envoy swallowed emotion looking over the body and appropriately tilting the flooding illumination.

Twilight had landed on her back with her head hanging off the bank into the water and her right ear buried into the creek's sediment. Her left eye was wide open while her right was slightly closed, neither pointed in the same direction, but both sunken into her skull with a dull film over them appearing to hide signs of life. Her mouth was agape and her throat bulging with an object lodged in her esophagus.

There were deep wounds that started from the carotid artery and suddenly curved upward across her jaw. Albeit jagged and imprecise, multiple cuts appeared across her neck exposing muscles and tendons. The assailant managed to nearly decapitate the alicorn princess.

Envoy had never seen a dead pony before which hadn't been dressed and cleaned by an embalmer. The worst part was the bright yellow fat tissue squeezing through the cold muscle and leathery dead skin. The bones appeared fluorescent against the dark red flesh, and depression welled tears in her eyes at the sight of cuts on Twilight's legs and hooves from trying to hide her face during the attack.

After photographing every inch of the scene and taking down hours of notes, Nurse Redheart arrived to remove the body for autopsy. Rigor mortis made the body awkward to move with her forelegs having relaxed from the condition while her lower half and center mass remained stiff.

Scroot told Envoy to note the onset of rigor being that the symptom of death gained full contracture at 24 hours after expiry and the muscles would then begin losing rigidity in consecutive order of smaller to larger mass. He further explained that, in conjunction with a core temperature taken from Twilight's liver, they would be able to calculate, accurate to within a few hours, the time of death.

"Hey, Scroot." Nurse Redheart began as a few medical stallions carefully placed Twilight on a stretcher. "Your owl didn't die from the poison."

"So, I was right. He was dumped there by our killer." He said more to himself than to her. He noted that the killer had enough planning power to kill the owl first to avoid the potential event of Owlicious waking Twilight during the crime.

"Yeah, he got strangled. Just thought you'd like to know." She said plainly.

The medical stallions loaded the body and left to the hospital with the investigators following. Envoy refrained from conversation trying to give Scroot his space. She knew when he was upset he doesn't speak which was torturous to her. She wanted to talk about what was going on in her mind because she believed it would help her feel better, but Scroot would shush her and that would be the end of it.

When they arrived at the hospital, they predictably found that Twilight died from exsanguination due to severe lacerations of several arteries. They pulled a few green stones from her throat and blue coat hairs were found in her teeth where presumably Twilight bit her attacker in defense.

Scroot walked outside, and then he nosed in his pocket for a cigarette while Envoy joined looking over him for signs of emotion. She had started sweating in the effort for silence.

He placed his tiny tripod lighter on the ground before stepping onto the ignition bringing to life a tiny flame. The golden light danced on the concrete with the fruit of Princess Luna's royal labor poised in the center of the sky.

"It's a hell of a thing." He said flatly as he lit the cigarette. He balanced the lighter on a hoof and pushed it back into his pocket.

"I don't know how to feel," Envoy started, "I'm glad we recovered her body, but I think I feel worse than I did last night."

"Finding the body isn't closure, Envoy. It's putting the fucker that did this in a noose." He said pulling on the cigarette and blowing smoke from his nose. His eyes were fixed on the horizon; every breath filled with toxicity.

"You alright?" She asked after a few moments. The column of ash on his cigarette fell away from a slight breeze.

"I'm okay." He said through lips pursed around the cigarette, "I'm just starting to put this together and I'm not liking it."

Envoy nodded, but resisted saying anything.

With candy-lion pollen becoming a connection to the crime, just as Envoy had predicted, Scroot had regrettably found that they had a primary suspect with which they had probable cause.

"The facts of the case," Scroot continued, "Around midnight to 3am, somepony entered Twilight's Library and used a homemade concoction on the dragon in an attempt to kill him figuring that the blade would kill him too slowly and alert the princess. Then, that somepony drove a knife into Twilight's neck trying to cut her throat. In the struggle, Twilight bit her attacker acquiring the coat hairs found in her mouth and eventually succumbed to the blood loss. The perpetrator wrapped the bodies assuming that Spike was dead and transported them south to north-eastern Ghastly Gorge. Along the way, the murderer dumped the sled and the dragon before throwing Twilight off into the creek. Presumably, comfortable in the seclusion, I would guess that's when the rocks were shoved into her throat before she was dumped. I would also assume that's when one of the perp's blue hairs got caught in the rug. The same hair which would be coated with candy-lion pollen."

"No motive." Envoy shrugged.

"Jealousy. In the little bit I spoke with her, she was really proud of her flying." Scroot tossed the cigarette with his jaw onto the ground and looked at Envoy, "Maybe she thought Twilight was getting a bit too much attention for the wings."

"Alright," Envoy shook her head, "Let's bring in Rainbow Dash."