Sunday, Bloody Sunday

There is a little store front in Canterlot, next to a now empty art studio, right up the alley from where a poor mare was brutally raped last night. This store was closed, the cost having inflated too much because of the Changelings destruction, like a lot of shops on the south side of the city, near the walls. But this shop had one pony staying in it. Nothing new, thought the world at large, many homeless ponies sleep in the abandoned stores. Though this shop had no pony in it last night, alive at least. The Guard moved around the room, taking pictures and magically spreading hoof print powder. The Captain of this guard hung his head low. He was a kind stallion, patent but stern, like a big brother to the force. He was in charge of this investigation, and was not happy, this was a rather ugly murder, and so soon after his wedding.

"Captain Armor," one guard called, "We have the weapon here."

"Great, let's wrap this up then," Shining Armor said, "What are we looking at Keen?"

"Glass shard, 8 1/2 inches in length, blood dried on it, and the tip has a secondary break, should match a piece we found in the Victim," Keen Eyes said. A rookie to the Squad, but great at this work, Shining thought.

"Good work Kid, And do we have an ID on the Vic yet?" Shining asked as he peered around the scene. There had been quite a lot of emotion in it, that was for sure. It was just a brutal beating, then the killer cut up the vic, while the victim was most likely already dead from the tackle, or the trampling.

"Sir, he was a Mr Quick Fix, local dealer. last seen at a bar right up the street around midnight," Keen said.

"Good, I think I remember bringing him in once actually, check the logs, see if he had any unfriendly ponies waiting for him," Shining said.

"Roger," Keen said, happy to leave the scene. He was very detailed, but he hated the blood. Shining walked around the room, looking at the Spatter. It was just blood to him, but that was not what got his interest. It was some colors by the window the Vic went through.

"Keen, get in here," Shining called to the kid, who begrudgingly trotted back into the room. "What am I looking at here?" Shining asked waving a hoof at the floor, the red colors lying sprayed out.

"Blood spatter sir?" Keen said. Smart kid, but didn't like blood. Maybe homicide was not his ideal fitting after all.

"Look closer, there is spray, but it ends, like something about 4 hoofs tall was in the way, after the window was broken and the Vic killed," Shining said. The kid leaned in to get a closer look.

"Yes sir, also it's not blood over here, it's paint?" Keen said a little confused.

"Yes, red oil paint with varnish added in, a favorite of artist, it keeps its sheen long after it has dried. Some pony last night liked what they saw, and decided to paint it," Shining said. looking out of the window to the alley. "Keen, canvas the area."

"Yes sir. What should I be looking for?" Keen asked rising from the paint with even deeper respect for his Captain.

"Some pony that likes canvas would be a good start."

Jean-Luc stuck his head out the window of the train as it approached Ponyville. The town looked quaint and charming, but Jean-Luc didn't give two shits about the town. He just wanted to waste some time, let the heat come off his last master piece, then go back and make a new one, a better one. One with some real splash. Ahahahahaha! the artist laughed within his mind as the train rounded the last corner, What fun, what fun. Where do we go from here, what next? Maybe a dumb modeling pony that gets surgery to change the natural beauty they already had, Hmmm? Jean-Luc would admit that not all changes were bad, but sometimes, he was just angry that a mare could not see her own beauty, and destroyed it because reality could not live up to her standards. Jean-Luc knew this was always a risk with art, so he learned. But why couldn't the idiots of Canterlot learn like he did? But for now, a nice quite day in a new town.

The train rolled to a stop and out the window Jean-Luc could see many ponies gathering for a celebration tonight, there were lights going up, streamers, a stage and yadda yadda yadda, Jean-Luc didn't give a buck. He only cared about his new medium. Sculpting from life. The thought made his breath shallow, his pulse quicken. Was this love? No pony ever made him feel this Luna Damned Good. But getting to create art from a worthless waste of wandering wanton wanker was absolutely amazing, even better then sex. He got off the train and walked down the platform stairs, his eyes high, his mane clean and slicked back now, not ruffled, loose, and hanging like... like that glorious moment. Celestia, Why couldn't he thing of anything else? He was lost in thought, and almost stumbled over two mares talking about setting up the festivities.

"Oh, no no no, draw the eye to the Stage, but don't overwhelm ladies, we want the focus on the models," A white Unicorn with a purple mane and tail, rather nicely styled. Jean-Luc could appreciate beauty still, but it was nothing next to his art. But she did seem to be the local head of culture. The lavender unicorn she was talking to was familiar though...

"Of course Rarity. Oh," she said noticing Jean-Luc now and turning around, "Hello there, new in... town... Hey wait, I know you don't I?" Twilight Sparkle said with a quizical look on her face, trying to remember exactly from where.

"Ah, Miss Sparkle, yes. I'm Jean-Luc Pastel, I did a painting of you and the Princess one year. A nice sitting," Jean-Luc said remembering. He was great with the recollection of all the natural beauty he painted.

"Yes, that's it, hello Jean-Luc. Please just call me Twilight," She said with a great forced smile. Jean-Luc was used to it. He had not made a great impression that day, telling that joker princess to behave and sit still. Other ponies would worry about banishment, he worried that she would ruin his painting. But now he had a new piece to paint, and maybe one day, he would repaint the princess, in his new found style... Hmmm, Thought the Artist, Not a bad idea, regal blood drops adorning the halls of Canterlot, a fallen god at the base of her throne... But later, first the scum, then the Political pieces.

"Please Darling, where are your manners?" Rarity said.

"Oh, right, Jean-Luc this is Rarity," Twilight said.

"Charmed," Rarity said.

"Likewise. So did I hear right that there will be a show tonight?" Jean-Luc asked.

"No, tomorrow, my annual fashion show, why Darling, are you into that sort of thing?" Rarity said batting her eyelashes at him, teasing him a little. "I do believe Mr Pastel, that you are a colt companion?" Rarity said with a laugh.

"Rarity!" Twilight said.

"It's okay, I believe you must have seen my exhibit then in Canterlot, when I showcased the Stallone Di Guerra last summer?"

"Yes I did good sir, a lovely sculpture, so detailed. I heard you lived with the Stallion that modeled him for a month just to make sure you got every nook and cranny, Am I mistaken?" Rarity said while Twilight blushed and steamed, and odd combo to pull off at the same time.

"Actually, I am just detailed. In truth I am celibate. Flesh makes the art suffer I believe," Jean-Luc said. Well, except for now, when flesh is the art.

"Too true. I refuse to date when ever I am drafting a new design," Rarity said.

"Well maybe I could come check out these designs later, I love all mediums of art," Jean-Luc said with a smile. So convincing, almost real, but behind it was nothing, no heart, no emotion. His emotions were now only for IT. Oh how he craved another playmate, some one to let his blade dance and sing, cascading their blood onto his canvas for the world to see. To feel their last breath, smell their scent as only their last ever will. Taste his sweat and their blood as it mixes withthe air, it could be a dark store room again or a stage like the ... one ... right... here... Oh my, said the inner Artist, That is something... Can I? May I please create a masterpiece there tonight for all of Equestria to see and marvel in as only my art is fit to? We just need a muse.

"I thought you were celibate?" Rarity said.

"I am. I never said do you want to get dinner, I merely asked if you would like to show case your designs for a fellow artist?"

"Then of course dear, 7 pm good?" Rarity said with a laugh.

"Yes, see you ladies later. Rarity, I look forward to learning from you later tonight."

"Sir," Said an unremarkable beat colt to Shining Armor, "We have a filly in Canterlot ER, rape victim. Says it was Fix."

"Huh, thank you East," Shining said. Even though the colt was nothing special, The Captain made a point of knowing all of his officers by name. "Did she say if he was alone, maybe anyone else in the alley way?"

"No sir. She only remember Fix because he beat her pretty bad. He messed her up and we believe he drugged her, fits hid MO," East said.

"Hmm, Thank you. Send a letter to my sister Twilight, will you, I need her quizzical mind to help me with this." Shining said leaning back from his desk. Maybe Cadence would make today better, because his job was not helping him today.

Interrupting his train of thought of his new wife, the Profiler, Dr. Goodspeed walked in and sat down rather harshly next to Shining.

"Hello Doc, Whats the word?" Shining asked of the gelding here now. He was getting on in years, but there was no pony better at this job then Goodspeed.

"We might have just missed the only witness, a Mr Jean-Luc Pastel, artist and sculptor, just moved to Ponyville this morning," Goodspeed said with a little wheeze and a slight huff.

"You good doc?" Shining asked.

"Ha, get your head in the game kid. I'm too suborn to stop now, you know that," Goodspeed said with a grin. He took a roll of clove out of his saddle bag, tucking the foul smelling plant into his lip.

"I hate when you do that in my office doc, it stinks," Shining said scrunching up his nose.

"Try some, takes years off your life," Goodspeed said with a laugh.

"Why the hay would I do that?"

"Because the last ones suck kid, stick it too em while you can," Goodspeed said, pulling an empty Styrofoam cup from the bag and spitting the foal clove juices into it.

"Yeah, no. And don't forget your cup in here again doc, that's just messed up. So why do you think Pastel is the pony in the know?" Shining asked of his old friend.

"Only artist around really. Keen Eyes gave me the report earlier, He was reclusive, frequent insomnia, living poorly despite having as much money as Fancypants. He just lives like a bum to make his art better. He might have seen the aftermath, Neighbors said he would often take long walks to the outskirts of town at night to think, trying to find a muse I bet. Probably saw the scene coming back. Kid was not the most well guarded emotionally, might have snapped, could only process it by painting it. Might help to talk to the colt," Goodspeed said with a cough at the end. Shining was afraid his good friend was not long for the force anymore.

"Alright, thanks doc. Send East back in here, I need to update the letter I'm sending my sister, and get Windrunner and Cloudchaser in, they are going to Ponyville to question Pastel."

There was a knock on the door to the Library, and Twilight was a bit taken Aback to find it was two Royal Guards at the door.

"Yes, Windrunner and Cloudchaser, right? Is everything okay?" Twilight said, She knew Shining had most likely sent them, but why?

"Hey Twilight, Your brother has sent a letter to you, asking for any insight you could have into your case here," Cloudchaser said pulling the letter from his saddle bags and giving it to Twilight. Twilight read the Letter fast, uh-huh's and ah's every now and then.

"Your looking to Question Jean-Luc Pastel? I just met him. He is staying at the old art studio now. The one just past town hall, it closed last year, but he bought it a week ago. So how can I help with this?" Twilight said putting the letter down.

"Please just review the profile since you have met the Subject," Windrunner said.

"Of course, is he just a pony of interest right now?" Twilight asked being given a folder which she took hold of magically and starting flipping through it.

"Yes ma'am," The officers said.

"Huh, this does not seem like the Jean-Luc I met today, but exactly like the one I dealt wit h4 years ago," Twilight said.

"You knew the subject before hand?" Cloudchaser asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Sort of. He did a painting of me and Princess Celestia for her Birthday back then. He was nervous, controlling, and rather quick to anger. I honestly thought I was about to see a banishing for a minute," Twilight recalled. "Is there anything else gentlecolts?" She asked seeing they were ready to go, having all the info the needed.

"No ma'am, have a good day Miss Sparkle," Windrunner said as the two coppers walked to the studio, and unwittingly their doom.

At 4 pm, the two Guards knocked on the door to the studio, hearing a far away sounding answer to come in, that the colts work was too important to stop right now. The two guards nodded to each other, the Subject was not wanted for anything, only a pony of interest, and there was no reason to believe otherwise.

"Yes, come in Gentlecolts, Sorry but when the muse strikes, you know..." Jean-Luc said with a great fake smile. It was award worthy really.

"Mr Pastel, Where were you last night shortly after midnight?" Cloudchaser asked the earth pony wit ha chisel supported by his hoof, a hammer tied around his neck so he could let it hang and talk. They were in the back of the large studio, poorly lit, with one subject they had not removed due to professional respect, a terrible flaw. Neither one was ready for what came next.

"Midnight, let me think... Oh yes, I was creating a new art piece," Jean-Luc said, same smile as before, but now, it held malice in it. Death loomed in the air, and these guards had no idea.

"Yes, we discovered a painting had been made of the crime scene shortly after the event, Mr Pastel, did you see anything?" Windrunner asked.

"Not really, It's hard to watch yourself kill scum like that, well from the outside at least, but if I could have, I think I would have a splendid orgasm," Jean-Luc said with a laugh that set the nerves of the cops on edge.

"Dear Celestia, Cloud, run and UHG!" Windrunner started but was cut short by the hammer around the Artist neck, connecting with his skull. The cops had taken their eyes off what they thought was an easy target. An easy mistake, but a fatal one. Before Cloudchaser could even turn to face the Artist, The hammer fell swiftly onto the copper head. Blood poured out of the good cops eyes and ears, he lay there silent, but still alive. Jean-Luc laughed his wicked laugh.

"Oh yes, how fun, how fun indeed! Two for the price of one! All I need to do is take them now to the stage. Its Curtain time boys!" Jean-Luc said with glee. But it was to be short lived. Getting the Guards to the stage, Jean-Luc found things were different this time around. For one thing, they had passed away during the 15 minute haul to the stage and unloading, but more than that, it was just... boring. "No no no no no no no no no! No Luna damn it! This is not the same! Whats Missing? Last time I killed, It was wonderful, It was joy. It was Art itself. But now, This is just two dead cops. Complete garbage! What was different?" The pained Artist cried ot the world. He dropped his knife, kicking close to the door. Then it hit him. He was trying to create this piece, but the best art, the muse finds you! Of course, thought the artist inside, the muse was not there, this was a sad attept to reclaim that muse. No, there needs to be a better muse, a greater muse! One the world would feel missing, cry at the display, feel the artistic genius of! Be patent, the muse will show itself soon enough. So instead, Jean-Luc set about taking the cops away, and dumping the bodies in the Everfree Forest, where ponies die all the time from mythical creatures. No big deal. And with that, the Artist left for his set meeting with Rarity. But getting to the boutique, Jean-Luc discovered she was not alone. There was another pony there. Jean-Luc let himself in, He was expected after all.

"My dear Rarity, It has been too long!" Said the other pony, that with great dismay turned out to be Hoity Toity, premiere Art critic in Equestria. Jean-Luc hated Hoity, the colt was a louse as far as Jean-Luc was concerned. But this did not stop the designer from seeing Jean-Luc and ruining an already spoiled evening.

"Ah, my dear Rarity, you never said two bit painters were among the patronage here, I would have thought you better," Hoity said lifting his snout to Jean-Luc. So what is the problem, thought the Artist inside, You know several ways to make this one art. He is the one you should make a piece out of, by rendering into pieces! His blood splattered high up the back wall, his cold corpse slumped at the bottom. His eyes gashed out! But leave the shades! use a real knife, one for quick cuts, aim for the arteries. Make his own heart paint with his foul blood! Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes! Jean-Luc smiled at this thought, a dangerous idea for being in front of some pony that knows you hate them. Hoity made eye contact, the nerve of him!

"Hoity, first you reduce my designs to rags, then assault my Boutique! Lastly you insult my friends! I don't care if you are the big to do in Canterlot Fashion, you uncouth ass. Leave my store!" Rarity shouted at him. She was nearly in tears though, his word meant a lot to her, not that Jean-Luc cared about that, he saw a face at it's most delectable when smiling, destroyed by his actions, his useless words. This crime against art was the last straw.

"Hoity, my old friend, I think you miss judge the fashionably fantastic filly here Messieurs, Let me show you her stage, what the world will see tomorrow, You will die for it. Rarity, love, I can not let this crime go, but I want you to stay here, no need to put up with anymore abuse tonight. Go to sleep, take a bath, whatever you need to do," Jean-Luc said with a cold smile, no emotion, hiding the rising muse. So with out a word, Hoity Toity followed Jean-Luc to the stage, and allowed himself the honor of being First to go in. Jean-Luc was more than happy to let Hoity turn his back.

As Jean-Luc approached Hoity, He silently grabbed the very vegetable knife he had left there earlier, and raised his blade high, the light was too him, the stage was sound, no creaks, and Hoity was looking earestly at the dresses muttering approval! This was it! Jean-Luc's pulse was through the roof, his mouth watered for the cut to come down, rendering the Critic critical. He stepped, silent as a feather, and then it came.

"My friend, I applaud your style, as well as your new taste in miraculous mediums, but you are quite out of your league," Hoity Toity said with a smirk that Jean-Luc could not see. It was the shock of Jean-Luc's life. He froze. Slowly he let the knife fall loudly to the floor, the Artist was stunned.

"Did you just compliment me?" Jean-Luc asked the critic.

"You saw the scene in Canterlot last night, no, even came by to paint it! But now you wish to try it. But you are not that pony, whom ever that pony is, they made true art. You are just a poser," Hoity said, turning around with his snout held high.

"Hoity you foal, That was me. I killed the Dealer Quick Fix, Slicing him up wit ha glass shard from the window. It was glorious. It was rage and passion, emotions I have never felt before!" Jean-Luc yelled at the critic. If anypony was listening, they were more than likely running to get help now, for no pony interrupted these two killers in their stand off. Hoity dived for the knife first, but Jean-Luc had distance on his side, He dropped low and grabbed the knife back up, but was hit before he could right himself enough to fight. The two artists rolled now, hoof connecting with face, Hoity had his mouth on the back of the blade as Jean-Luc fought for position. their breathing was hard, labored even as Hoity lay atop Jean-Luc and curtly brought his hind leg into the groin Jean-Luc. The artist flinched at this, causing his hold on the handle to weaken, and Hoity came up, knife in mouth, but didn't have the time to position the Blade for offense.

With Hoity's head held up, Jean-Luc brought his head forward sharply, connecting the thick of his skull with Hoity's throat. Hoity coughed and dropped the knife, the handles weight pulling it down and into Jean-Luc's ready grasp, and with a flick of the lower stallions neck, brought the cold steel blade across Hoity's Artery, blood spraying into the air as Hoity panicked and let up off of Jean-Luc, applying pressure to his cut throat. Jean-Luc bucked hard, and rolled onto the Critic, bring the blade down time and again, blood flying throught the air as it let go of the blade, the soft thud of each drop on a surface sending waves of pleasure through the Artist. He slashed and stabbed, making wide arches to spread the blood even more. there was only one curtain between him and the world right now, but he didn't care, this was his greatest piece yet. He was making a destroy of the worth of art into art itself now! Jean-Luc laughed and laughed, his voice cracking into a cackle as he shook with joy and ecstasy, buckign the dead colt or stabbing it repeatedly, dancing around the body sing to the splatter yet again.

"My friend it seems your time has come, as this world you exit from! You made a mess, now take a guess, you are my new piece tonight. You made light of my hard work, giving credit to a random jerk! Killing you though was quite the perk! You are my new piece tonight. Life so fragile, always fleeting, but worry not, your heart's not beating! You are my new piece tonight! With my old knife I took your life, thought I did enjoy our little strife. Hope to hell you had a wife! You are my new piece tonight! What's done is done, and you're long gone! You are my new piece tonight!" Jean-Luc Pastel sung to himself, unaware of things to come with dawns first light.