The griffon city of Parthona was ablaze with activity on the sunny Tuesday morning, yet while the city heaved with activity, there was a subdued paranoia that lingered in the air. The papers had been released, and the word was out: a killer of unknown species had struck in their city and gotten loose. According to the papers: “the local law enforcement itself was horrified by the grisly nature of the crime, and medical examiners were left scratching their heads as to the exact method the killer used to gain access to the slaughterhouse”.

The only topic of discussion that warm and active morning was the multiple homicide and double count of cruelty to animals. The only griffon not currently paying any interest in the papers was Serin as she ate a bacon and egg croissant with a mug of warm milk. Her gaze was cold and steely, her eyes locked on her leather-bound notepad filled with dozens of haphazard sketches and scribbles. Lines crisscrossed from one page to another, and several revisions and scratches permeated the words written. Her evidence pointed to the perpetrator being a human, but even she had some doubts after a night’s sleep.

Sure, rumors had been rampant in Equestria hinting at intelligent humans, but no concrete evidence yet existed for such a phenomenon actually occurring as of yet. A human doing some tricks was not intelligence, and neither was murder; however, premeditated and planned murder– as well as utilizing situational and combative tactics to subdue and eliminate targets efficiently– was.

Serin sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking up at the tall spires of Parthona glinting in the morning sun. No leads, no backup, no luck. Pocketing her notepad, Serin continued to consume her breakfast, letting herself go in the buzz of the city. It was in the midst of drinking her milk that Serin’s eyes widened in shock and she spit out the contents from her beak.

Throwing a generous number of bits onto the table, she took to the skies and bolted back to the crime scene, gripping her satchel tightly. Around corners and bends she soared, expertly avoiding any and all traffic she encountered with alarming speed. Only when she reached her destination did she slow enough to land and burst inside the slaughterhouse.

Two spears lined her throat instantaneously, and a quick flash of her badge shooed them away just as fast. “I need the shipping orders on the humans immediately, as well as an inventory on the list of humans that you get.” She showed her badge again and a documenter nodded, flipping through his folder and plucking nine sheets of paper from it. Serin grabbed them up and peered at them, eyes narrowed and frantically scanning the sheets.

A large griffon made his way up to her, his expression worried and clearly upset over the violent crime. “Excuse me, ma'am.” Serin looked up to acknowledge the polite griffon, who smiled at her cautiously. “I may have some information regarding the killings.”

Serin stuffed the papers into her satchel and evened her stare at the heavy-set griffon. “Tell me everything that you know for certain.”

During the day, the entire town came alive in a flurry of noise and movement. Trade agreements and shipping costs were discussed and arranged, prices and shortages, damages and assurances, operations and shady deals were made. This did not work well for the human, which stayed hidden in another alleyway devoid of curious griffons and obfuscated from the sunlight.

The pile of rags barely moved, its breaths long and controlled as its eyes took in the bustling community just beyond the darkness of the alley. The human heard everything along the street, understanding their language, which was uncannily similar to its own. Chewing on the chicken jerky strip, the human mulled over its next move.

It had several hours to plan and prepare for another shot at escaping the city undetected. Guards at the walls, coupled with human trafficking requirements and laws, made its movement in the city very difficult. The sewers were too small for its frame, all mass-human exports were shut down, and a human strolling out of the city was far too obvious.

The human gazed out at the walls of the alley, checking windows. There. An open window signaled a possible food source and some better cloth for which to warm itself. Moving quickly, the mass of rags began to ascend the wall, gripping small outcroppings along the wall with its strong hands and fingers.

Within seconds, the human had reached the third story of the building, then hauled itself inside with the muffled sound of its feet impacting the rug. The sound of moving plates and pottery sounded from inside the apartment. A voice rang out. “Julian? Are you alright?”

Another resident. Looking around, the human found ‘Julian’. Small griffon, asleep on a sofa. The other voice: female. Older. Pawsteps from within. She was coming straight for the human, and there was nowhere to hide. Pressing itself against the wall next to the doorway, the human waited.

The door opened, and a griffoness moved inside fluidly, not noticing the human behind her or the stone bust it had in its hands.

“An anomaly?” Serin asked, scribbling in her notepad in a haste to record everything the heavy-set griffon said.

“Yes, miss,” he confirmed. “When my workers brought the human in, it was… different, they said. It watched everything they did throughout the duration of its transportation. It ate slowly, like it was savoring its food.”

“And it was found…?”

“Covered in blood, but not its own. They didn't find anything around that the gore could have belonged to, but was most interesting was its state.” The griffon paused, as if searching for the correct words, then continued. “It wore clothes unlike anything we’ve seen. Blue fabric pulled around its legs and some cotton shirt pulled over its chest. It was unconscious when my employees found it.”

“Where did they find this… anomaly?” Serin asked, still focused on her notepad as the other griffon spoke. “Close to the city?”

“No, miss, they found him quite a ways out: near the Stachyon River,” he replied. “They had told me that ‘meat was meat’ and they had chained him up and loaded him with the rest. I didn't like it in my shop, so I had scheduled it to be butchered first thing after the weekend.” The griffon shook his head. “Should have had it done immediately.”

Serin raised an eyebrow at this comment. “You think that the missing human is responsible?” she asked him. Perhaps this was a legitimate ally in the making? It would certainly open up better streams for information on human trafficking and the like.

“Well, considering what my griffons told me about that one, the fact that the attack was started in the cage room, and the most concerning: the anomaly is missing? Yes, I genuinely believe that the human definitely had something to do with these murders.”

Dropping the blood-stained bust to the floor, the human began to slowly wipe its hands off in the carpet’s rough material. Stepping over the body of the griffoness, it appraised the state of the apartment. Dirty, with a slight smell of must, but brightly lit and very warm. Comfy.

The human moved across the room quietly, its rags swishing ever-so-gently across the carpet. Looking for a place to rest, the human heard a strained yawning, and looked behind it. Opening its mouth ever-so-slightly, the human let out a soft “oh”, and pulled a curtain rope from the window next to the sofa.

Wrapping the rope around Julian’s throat, the human pulled in opposite directions just as the young griffon awoke, cutting off a fearful squawk that gave way to violent, panicked thrashing. The human peered through the curtains, watching a human auction being prepared just outside.

Humming thoughtfully, the human payed no mind to the child’s body falling limp, as the murderous creature was too busy struggling to read the poster plastered on a lamp post. Ah, tomorrow, at one in the afternoon, the auction would begin. Excellent.

Pushing the oxygen-deprived body off the sofa, the human occupied the spot itself and chewed on a tough strip of chicken jerky. However, smelling the pleasant odor of food, it instead got up and went to the kitchen. The stew it found was very much preferable to the barely quantifiable hunger-alleviating strips that were the chicken jerkies.

It flopped back down on the sofa with a large ceramic bowl, lifting the ladle to its lips. Pausing, the human looked over to the griffoness, one large spot of her head smashed open with chunks of gray matter scattered on the floor, and raised the ladle in thanks. Taking a taste, the human smiled widely and began to dig in heartily.

Author's Note

This is the second set-up chapter. I will introduce the pony next chapter, and expect a chase (of sorts).