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 library after the murder took place, and compile their statements.

Envoy took down all the details of the home, and her hooves trembled with every note, every photo, and every collection of evidence. Somepony had died in that place; it made her nervous to be there alone. As she worked, she would find 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.

Envoy spent hours 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 body. She took custody of the hundreds of hairs found inside the home all of varying color and length.

She paused once again and stared 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 didn’t compare. 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 wall, but the spatter didn’t quite match. The cast-off was thin and high-velocity which made a stabbing more likely. Envoy doubted the use of magic to handle the weapon due to the novice skill required to cast a shield spell which would have prevented the blood from splattering 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 the whole experience more traumatizing than it inherently was going to be.

Envoy groggily sauntered outside and stared into the dirt in front of the library as the sun began its emergence from the horizon. She was exhausted, but sleep wasn't going to come easy after the scene she had studied all night.

Suddenly, she realized what she was looking at: Two perfectly congruent lines softly pressed in the dirt, leading away from the house, and 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. She followed the tracks 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 tracks were unrelated, but they looked too fresh to be so. The train station was populated during all hours of day and night by twenty-four seven delivery and commuting; it didn’t make sense to parade a fresh kill straight through there. It was possible that the killer brought the cart there specifically to be lost in the disarray, but she couldn't figure out how the tracks simply ceased to be.

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

* * *

Scroot stood outside the hospital and took in the toxic smoke through the 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 had done all they could, and he was getting better, but the medical staff know so little about dragons that the whole process had been experimental and slow. Scroot swore that the next RN to tell him that they were doing the best they could, and that they were sorry, was going to get bucked in the mouth.

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

Scroot remained motionless and 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 and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but turned away again.

"If you want 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?" Scroot mocked 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 and imagined what her head would look like on the concrete steps after he kicked it off of her shoulders. "I know." He said with a sigh while 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 as the thought of crushing her skull against the pavement with his hooves returned.

"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?" Scroot said. Het thought, We're at a hospital. If I peeled the flesh from her face, she would live.

"It could be hours, and it could also be weeks." She said with a small shrug.

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

Envoy approached them and nodded to Scroot without saying anything. Scroot sighed in a puff of smoke and wondered why Envoy wasn’t giving him the details of the home immediately.

"Well?" He finally asked while making his way to the smokers can by the dirt path and 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. "I also don't think I give a shit. What did you find at the house?”

Envoy shrugged, “There's nothing really remarkable about the scene that you don't already know. There were cart tracks that lead to the train station, but I lost them there. That's something, I guess, but I'm not sure if they're related.”

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

"I don't think so. 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, and 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, but stopped 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 or something."

She shrugged, "Why not just fly from the crime-scene?"

Scroot shook his head while trying to think of an explanation, "Maybe it’s because 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, "I just don't get why they would take off in the busiest place in Ponyville."

Scroot shrugged again, "Because it's busy. If you're carrying something illegal, and you run into ponies, what do you do? You get out of there, right?"

Envoy raised a brow at Scroot, "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 I don't think so. The suspect is a pegasus."

They entered the room and found the five ponies sitting around Spike's hospital bed in silence. Spike's eyes lazily glanced among all of them. 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 took a deep breath and addressed everypony in the room, "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 was nice to finally be home after such a long day. Envoy's home was a modest and cozy one bedroom house which had exactly enough room for whatever she liked to do. She wasn't a complicated filly.

Envoy 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. A romantic soundtrack played in her head as she was reunited with her bed.

She pulled off her red button up, and carelessly tossed the shirt as she leaped into the bed and landed on her back. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes while 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 shook all thought out of her head. She turned over onto her side and tucked a hoof under her pillow which is most likely the position that Twilight was laying when her throat was slashed and left to struggle for breath through her severed neck.

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

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

Envoy hopped out of bed, cantered to the kitchen, and put together a nice hot daisy with hay bacon bits, diced pickles, and mayonnaise on a slice of whole grain wheat bread. She scarfed the messy creation and washed it down with a few sips of lemonade.

She 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 room, tackled the comforter, and wrapped 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 slid lazily out of bed again and cursed under her breath. She gave up on sleep and began to analyze the hairs and candy-lion 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 and thought that he didn't understand the distinguished knock possibly because he had never been on the other side of it.

Envoy tugged the door open with 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 and saw the spread of photos on the floor and notes scribbled over her easel in the unicorn's calligraphic print.

"Did you sleep at all?" Scroot smiled.

She raised a brow and didn't see 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 maned pegasus that was in the house after the murder, but Envoy managed to nail down that the killer must be blue; evident the 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.

Envoy 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 unpalatable coffee 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 a scene which doesn't have a revolving door of ponies, I don't think we should bring it up to anypony.”

Scroot looked over her notes and gave Envoy time to shower and get dressed. He copied the easel onto his notepad and found himself impressed by Envoy's diligent and thorough work. Envoy emerged from the bathroom with her mane brushed, her coat cleaned, and wearing her tight-fit red blouse.

She let out a sharp sigh and said, “Let’s get to it.”

Scroot nodded, “Let's split up. You go to the hospital and see if Spike can give us a statement. I'll go to the area that he was dumped. I'll stop by the hospital in a few hours.”

* * *

When Scroot arrived at the scene, he immediately noticed the lack of candy-lions which meant that Twilight probably wouldn’t be nearby. Two bushes were disturbed where Spike had been dropped between them and 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 thought, I guess they didn't dump the cart. And concluded that it was all the more reason to believe that the killer was a pegasus. He bagged a few rogue hairs that were embedded into the dirt and in the leaves of the bushes after taking photos of the scene in the daylight.

He followed the tracks and figured that the pegasus didn't want to risk dropping Twilight’s 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 during the heat of the crime.

The trail led to an imposing 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 cottage and knocked on the door while announcing, "Investigations."

A zebra answered the door with a raised brow. It was apparent that she did not expect anypony to drop by that afternoon given her weary and inquisitive demeanor, "Hello, I am Zecora, Mister Investigator. I don't believe we've met before." She spoke in a cadence with a deep punctual voice that stressed rhyming.

"I'm Scroot Whinny and I'm investigating a disappearance of a pony in Ponyville." He explained while pointing to his small, silver investigator badge on his left breast under his jacket.

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

He scratched the back of his head and searched for the appropriate words. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure."

She nodded again, "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 and then he gestured toward the 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 deeper into the Everfree Forest.

They continued along the dank trail while Zecora casually noted the foliage that was around them along the way. 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 growing spikes that 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, unless something manipulates producing a kill." She said and then pointed to a dead cockatrice lying against the vines.

Scroot peered through the Terror Spines 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 walking and 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 stated while he noted the dead pet and the location on his notepad.

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."

Scroot sighed, "It's certainly not good."

They made their way further south through Froggy Bottom Bogg and 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. Just outside of the canopy, and just before the dirt gave way to the Candy-lions, the tracks that they had been following suddenly veered to the right of the path and conveniently pointed to a flat-bed sled hidden in the foliage.

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 large brown ovals where blood had soaked into the wood. He took photos 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 was untouched by ponies, secluded from civilization, and with kilometers of canyon stretching all the way to the San Palomino Desert, it was the perfect dump site for a high profile murder. He couldn't quite place what was so emotionally stirring about the scene because he knew what he was about to find. It was probably because he had resolved in his mind that he was never going see another gruesome murder victim again, and then this case fell into his hooves.

After taking a deep breath in preparation, Scroot turned to Zecora and said, "I think you need to stay here. There are hoof-prints that I want to remain undisturbed."

Zecora looked away and nodded. 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. She pursed her lips and frowned in understanding of the situation that Scroot was prepared to walk into. The bright sun, the brilliant smell of the flowers, and the cool breeze did little to hide the death shrouding them in bleak darkness.

Upon approaching the cliff, Scroot observed crushed flowers on the edge where it appeared that something was placed on them and pushed off the bluff. His breath slowed while looking over the cliff. The embankment was steep with small bushes riddled throughout the side of the valley, and a slender tree grew sideways from the dirt and curled upward into the sky. The tree had a rug wrapped carelessly on its trunk that hung over several blemishes in the mud which marked the way down as if a line was drawn to point out the distinct 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, and he realized once again the truly fucked up shit that ponies could do to one another.

Scroot returned to Zecora, thanked her, and dismissed her from further assistance before travelling back to Ponyville 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, and they took photographs of the small amounts of blood spatter on the rocks where her body had crashed before coming to rest in the creek. Scroot went to observe the body while Envoy examined the purple rug that had been used to wrap the body. She found hair that probably belonged to Twilight and a single light blue mane hair embedded in the rug's fibers. She bagged all of them and joined Scroot at Twilight's side.

The moon had begun its journey into the sky as Scroot and Envoy set up lighting to take photographs of the scene. Envoy swallowed emotion while looking over the body and appropriately tilting the flood lights. She had seen Twilight around town and was familiar with her without having felt the need to bother her. Of anypony that simply wanted to do some good in the world, Twilight was the last pony that deserved her fate. Envoy closed her eyes, quietly told herself to focus, and got back to work.

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, but both eyes were sunk into her skull with a dull film over them that appeared to hide the signs of life. Her mouth was agape and her throat was bulging from an object lodged in her esophagus. The multiple slashes in her neck were jagged and imprecise which indicated, unsurprisingly, that Twilight fought hard against her attacker. The alicorn princess had been nearly decapitated from the deep wounds that exposed her pharynx.

Envoy had never seen a dead pony before, which hadn't been dressed and cleaned by an embalmer, and the worst part was the bright yellow fat tissue squeezing through the cold muscle and leathery skin. The bones appeared fluorescent against the dark red flesh, and there were cuts on Twilight's fore-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 then, the muscles would begin losing rigidity in consecutive order from smaller to larger mass. He further explained that 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. He was asphyxiated."

"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.

The medical stallions loaded the body and left to the hospital with the investigators following. Envoy refrained from conversation and tried to give Scroot his space. She knew when he was upset that 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 out that Twilight died from exsanguination due to lacerations of the carotid and subclavian arteries. Redheart pulled a few green stones from her throat, and blue coat hairs that 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 him at his side. He silently offered her a cigarette, but she declined with a mute wave of her hoof. She looked over him for signs of emotion. She had started sweating in the effort to remain silent.

Scroot placed his tiny tripod lighter on the ground, stepped onto the ignition, and brought a tiny flame to life. 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." Scroot 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 while pulling on the cigarette and blowing smoke from his nose. His eyes were fixed on the horizon; every breath filled with toxicity.

Envoy watched the column of ash on his cigarette fall away from a slight breeze, and finally asked, "You alright?"

"I'm okay." He said through his 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.

"The facts of the case," Scroot continued, “Around midnight to 3 AM, somepony entered Twilight's Library and used a homemade concoction on the dragon in an attempt to kill him. It can be assumed that the killer used the poison because the blade might have caused a ruckus, and awoken Twilight. It's also possible that the killer either didn't have enough poison to do Twilight the same way or that Spike was just collateral while Twilight was personal.”

Scroot paused to take a long, deep puff of the cigarette and continued with smoke billowing from his mouth, “So, then that somepony drove their knife into Twilight's throat, and in the struggle, Twilight bit her attacker and acquired the blue coat hairs found in her mouth. Eventually, Twilight succumbed to the blood loss and the killer loaded the two bodies on the sled because they assumed that Spike was dead. Along the way, the killer dumped Spike and the sled before shoving Twilight off into the creek. I would guess that just before she was pushed off, the killer got comfortable in the seclusion and put the rocks down her throat for some reason. That's also probably when one of the perp's mane hairs got caught in the rug… the same hair that would be coated in candy-lion pollen.”

"We can't be sure it was her, Scroot. No motive." Envoy shrugged.

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

"Alright," Envoy reluctantly agreed, "Let's bring in Rainbow Dash."

Author's Note

Twilight doesn't look so good either