Bright lights, acrid smells, and a deep, hollow, silence echoed in the pre-dawn hour. The not-yet-morning sensations were deep, sharp, and seemed almost unreal in their intensity. Shadows were pitched to an inky blackness, moonlight shone in Twilight's eyes like a spotlight, police lights flashing blue and red creating an almost blinding strobe across the cottage in front of her. The smell of zinc accompanied the flashing of camera bulbs, taking photos with a rhythmic irregularity, reporters crowded as close as they could without trampling down the fence.
Across the wooden gate, a strip of almost-neon yellow tape read 'POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS'. It had been strung up in a hurry and sagged a bit, but despite the relative frailty of the tape's physical presence, it still created an invisible barrier that nopony would cross lightly, one that would hold no sway against a determined intruder but kept off the reporters and curious passersby. Even Twilight, who had been asked to come, shied away from crossing the thin plastic barrier. It just felt... wrong.
Standing in the cold wouldn't solve anypony's problems, though. She had to go in, to get this ordeal over with. Avoiding her problems wouldn't solve anything. Even so, she halted in front of the police tape, giving the gathered newsponies a chance to snap some photos of her. Buckling down and dealing with problems didn't bother Twilight, but this... This made her halt before going in.
Murder.
The town guard had told her that there had been a murder in Ponyville. Murder. A stallion who had been alive that morning wasn't anymore. Ponies just didn't- Things like this simply didn't happen.
Of course there was crime, you'd get that anywhere that ponies started to congregate. Theft wasn't common, but it wasn't unheard of either. Usually, the victim and the accused could work it out, so a police force was barely needed in Ponyville, and even when somepony couldn't work something out themselves, usually Twilight or another good friend could talk some sense into everypony and resolve the issue.
There were other crimes, too. Vandalism. Assault, very rarely. The occasional case of plagiarism. Even a good, old-fashioned burglary happened at most once or twice a year. Usually, the little Ponyville Police Department could handle it.
But... Murder.
Ponies weren't exactly easy to hurt. Rainbow Dash was living proof of that: She'd crashed through more walls than the average wrecking ball, and even her worst injuries had only grounded her for a matter of weeks. Accidental deaths were rare, maybe one in a couple years. Ponyslaughter had happened only twice in the history of the town, and both had been under extremely extenuating circumstances. Ponies weren't liable to die without something really horrible happening. When Twilight shivered, it had nothing to do with the cool night's air.
Walking up to the gate, her hoofsteps felt almost dream-like, feeling slow and fast all at once. She couldn't seem to get her legs to respond how she wanted, walking briskly along, but at the same time her mind was screaming get out, get away, you don't want to be here.
Crossing under the plastic tape blocking the civilians from the crime scene, Twilight took slow steps forward, ears twitching at the occasional 'Click' of a camera from one of the half-dozen reporters behind her. Each click was accompanied by a flash, making her blink, making the dizzying, unreal sensations throw her off balance just a little more. Aside from the clicks, though, and the shuffle of her own footsteps, the night was dead silent.
Twilight was waved in at the door by Jam Sandwich, a Pegasus with a frazzled orange mane. Her blue uniform was tugged tight to shelter her from the chill wind, the cap she wore was askew, and despite her white coat her face somehow managed to look pale and a bit sickly. Even so, she maintained a tight, business-like expression as she waved Twilight through, gesturing towards the stairs without a word. Apparently she recognized that it would have been offensive, almost sacrilegious, to break the eerie silence.
Twilight nodded gratefully. If Jam Sandwich had spoken, Twilight would have been obliged to respond, and she wasn't sure if she could form words at the moment. A lump the size of an apple was growing in her throat, and as she walked up the stairs, wood creaking beneath her hooves, the tension in the air only seemed to grow.
She didn't want to think about what was at the end of the upstairs hall, the door marked with a big 'X' of police tape, making it impossible to miss. She looked to the side, glancing anywhere except the crime scene as she reached the top of the landing. That only landed her gaze on a row of picture frames, each contained some combination of a family trio. The father, a unicorn with thick glasses, brown fur, and bushy eyebrows, the Earth pony mother with an interminably huge smile in every picture, their daughter who had inherited her father's looks and horn but her mother's smile. She couldn't have been older than Scootaloo or Apple Bloom, and now her father was...
Shivering again, Twilight wrenched her gaze away from the pictures and continued her slow march to the door. She had to get it over with. It was her duty. Something was wrong in Ponyville, and she needed to fix it. Only a few steps away then, the door at the end of the hall where she'd find the scene of the crime.
Reaching the door, she raised her hoof to knock, then faltered. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. It'd be gruesome, but she knew the stallion was dead. There'd be blood, there'd be death, but she wouldn't have it jumped on her as a surprise. She could be prepared. How bad could it be? She'd read medical textbooks before, what new gore could shock her? She'd read mystery novels and crime dramas before, it's not like the mere idea of crime could shock her.
It would have broken the perfect silence to encourage herself out loud, but Twilight nevertheless thought to herself. It'll be okay. You can do this. For his family.
She knocked on the door, the sound of hoofbeats on wood echoing for a moment before it was opened from the far side. Detective Gumshoe, a big Earth pony with a green coat and black mane, answered it with a grim expression. He gestured with his head to the plastic sheet separating her and him from the body. She could smell it, though, blood and decay assaulting her nostrils with the extra intensity that the morning was affording. Books couldn't communicate smell, that was something she'd have to approach without the inoculation that knowledge could provide, but smell was fine. She could handle that. She took a shallow breath, made a choking noise, and turned to the plastic sheet before pulling it aside.
Blood was everywhere. Splattered on the walls, all over the floor, even some sprayed on the ceiling in a high arc. On the floor in a malformed lump was another plastic sheet, covering up the victim's body. Swallowing, her throat suddenly dry, Twilight tried to keep from getting blood on her hooves by staying behind the curtain and using her magic to slowly peel up the sheet covering the body.
A long beat passed. Twilight's eyes were already wide and dilated, but they grew even wider at the horrific scene in front of her, and she wrenched her head away and turned, throwing up last night's hay onto the wooden floor, adding the scent of vomit to the list of acrid odors filling the room.
It was worse than she had imagined. The stallion hadn't just been killed, he'd been slaughtered, blood oozing from his chest, neck, legs. She'd barely seen anything before her gag reflex had kicked in and pulled her away from the view, but it had been confirmation of how horrible the crime had been.
Breathing deeply, Twilight tried to calm down, but it was difficult. She wanted to take action, to do something, but she didn't know what she could do. She was a Princess, sure, a pony with great magical power and talent, with her friends at her side they had done great things together, but there were no monsters to do battle with here, no villains to banish, no sinister ponies to duel. There were no lessons in friendship to learn. The fate of Equestria wasn't at stake. This pony was dead, and no magic in Equestria would bring him back. Even if Twilight knew the right spells, even if she could pull it off properly, nopony in Equestria was meant to try and take control over life and death, not even a princess.
But somepony did, Twilight thought, anger bubbling through the feelings of nausea and repulsion. Somepony had decided that this stallion's life should end, and they'd taken that authority upon themselves. That was wrong. They would pay for what they had done, if she had to go to the ends of Equestria to track them down. They would never get a chance to do this to anypony, ever again, not if she had anything to say about it.
Swallowing and immediately regretting it, Twilight shook her head a couple times, wings bristling as she braced herself to turn and face the body again. She only realized then that Detective Gumshoe was standing behind her, silently holding out a plastic bottle of water to her.
Nodding in thanks, unable to smile but nonetheless feeling grateful, Twilight accepting the water and unscrewed the cap, downing half of it in a single drink. Feeling much better, she shuddered, steeled herself, and turned back to look at the body. She immediately felt the nausea rising back up in her throat, but fought it back down, telling herself that she had to do this.
It's not a pony, it's just a body, she told herself, taking deep breaths and keeping herself calm, not wanting to end up retching in the corner again. Looking at the body, she looked for information, but all she saw was mindless, pointless gore.
The stallion's corpse had a long cut along his neck and throat, with most of the blood pooling from where the cut was. A cluster of stab wounds were bunched around the center of his belly, though with relatively blood, and finally with bruised and broken ankles on his fore and hind legs.
Most shocking, though, was his horn. Or, rather, the lack of it. Where a mature, fully grown Unicorn's horn should have been, instead was a charred, blackened stump where it had been cut off. The horn itself was missing, perhaps taken by the murderer, but definitely not in the room anywhere.
Twilight managed to look at this for less than ten seconds before she had to look away again, averting her gaze. It was horrible, but it was necessary. She was going to find the pony that did this, and she was going to banish him, lock him up, and throw away the key.
"Your Highness," came a light voice from the doorway, shocking the room's otherwise utterly silent atmosphere. She looked up, seeing Jam Sandwich in the door, looking a little awkward and avoiding Twilight's gaze.
"Yes?" Twilight croaked, her voice feeling a little weak as she found a few words in response. The sun was starting to come up as Luna retired for the day, and the eerie quiet was beginning to abate. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just..." Jam faltered, still not looking at Twilight. "The investigator you called is here."
Raising her eyebrows, Twilight blinked a couple of times, and she asked the first question that came to mind.
"... Who?"
The sun started dawning over the horizon, and its warming light shone through the window, dispelling much of the fear and anxiety that had been building in the night. Horror was being swapped out for disgust and anger, and even those emotions were tempering into a steady determination to solve the mystery at hoof.
But first, Twilight had to solve the other mystery at hoof. “I… I didn’t call an investigator!” She started, tilting her head a bit. “Did she say her name?”
“His name,” Jam Sandwich corrected automatically, before seeming to realize she had just corrected a princess and looking back down at her hooves. “S-sorry, your highness. I didn’t get his name. Sorry.”
Taking a breath, Twilight shook her head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Take me to him, please.”
“R-right, yes, right this way your Highness,” Jam said, turning around and heading back out the way they had both come in, turning down the little staircase.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Twilight saw the stallion in question, standing in the living room, holding a cardboard container with several full paper cups visible resting in it. He was an earth pony, a little short, with a dark brown mane and slightly lighter coat matching his brown eyes. He wore small saddlebags and a laminated nametag around his neck, but nothing else to make a fashion statement of any kind. Even his cutie mark, normally a fairly distinctive marking, was simply a small white circle which faded in gradient, looking like little more than a soft light on his flank. He wore a blank expression, didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, and didn’t look up at the sound of footsteps coming towards him.
Twilight wouldn’t say anything out loud, but she thought he looked… Bland. Boring, in fact. She knew not to judge a book by its cover, but that didn’t keep her from wondering if he was even in the right house, or if perhaps he had wandered in by accident somehow.
“Excuse me, sir?” She asked, approaching the dull stallion. “Are you the investigator?”
Finally glancing up at Twilight, he nodded once in affirmation. “Yes, your highness, that’s me. Bright,” he added, quickly, setting down the drink holder and extending his hoof to shake. “Bright Shine. And you need no introduction, of course.”
Twilight had been meaning to ask, ‘Who are you?’, but he had beaten her to the question and offered the answer of his own accord before she had the chance. So, she took his hoof, shook, and then moved on to the next question she had. “Why are you here? I didn’t send for anypony.”
“I know,” Bright Shine said. “But I think I’m needed, anyhow. I…” He paused, seeming to choose his words for a moment, before saying, “... Got a tip that there would be a crisis in Ponyville, so I headed here on yesterday’s train.”
“You knew this would happen?” Twilight asked, eyebrows lifting and then narrowing. Her voice hardened, and she asked, “And you didn’t tell anypony?”
Unconsciously stepping backwards, Bright Shine shook his head quickly. “I only knew that something bad would happen,” he explained. “I thought I could ask around and find out what was going on, quietly, so it wouldn’t cause a panic. I only realized the specifics when I heard the sirens an hour ago, it took me that long to find this house and get past the press. I brought coffee,” he added, gesturing to the cups. “Help yourself. There’s creamer and sugar in the side.”
Twilight hesitated for a moment, then lifted one of the cups of coffee and sipped at it. It was hot, strong, and bitter, not the kind of drink she usually preferred, but considering the circumstances it seemed appropriate. “You never answered my question,” she realized after a moment, and put down the coffee. “Why are you here?”
“There was a crime, correct?” He asked, selecting another coffee from the container and taking a drink himself. “I’m a detective of sorts. I hope this doesn’t fall into my area of expertise, but I had a hunch that it would, so here I am.” He took another drink of his coffee, and then proffered up the plastic lanyard around his neck, “Do you want to see my badge?”
Twilight inspected the badge, reading it quickly.
Bright Shine
Equestria Royal Guard
Special Access
Homicide Investigator
Looking up at Bright Shine, then back down at the badge, and then back up at him, Twilight asked, “Equestria has a homicide investigator?”
“Yes ma’am,” Shine said, looking as though he was used to hearing that question. “Just the one, and I spend most of my time preventing crimes, not investigating them.”
That was news to Twilight, and she had to take a few seconds to process the news she had just heard. Putting a hoof to her chest and waving it out, taking a breath to calm herself, she processed the information for a few seconds and then recovered herself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, trying not to sound like she was totally out of the loop. “Would you like to see the… The crime scene?”
Shine nodded, but then seemed to reconsider. “Would you mind if I viewed it alone?”
Twilight thought it was an odd request, but it had been an odd morning, and she consented. “Go ahead,” she said. “Tell Flathoof that there’s coffee, I’m sure he’ll want some.”
The homicide investigator - a title that still seemed strange to Twilight - nodded, and turned to head up the stairs. “I’ll just be a moment,” he said, before disappearing up the creaky house.
A few awkward seconds went by, and Twilight glanced at Jam Sandwich, who was staring intently at the floor and avoiding eye contact. “Did you know that we had a homicide investigator?” Twilight asked, thinking that she might know, seeing as Jam was in law enforcement.
“N-no,” the deputy replied, nervously.
Realizing that she was getting nowhere, Twilight glanced away again, looking around the room more awkwardly than ever.
A few moments later, Flathoof came down the steps and, upon seeing the coffee, beelined for the last cup and added a half dozen little cups of cream before taking a sip.
They all drank their coffee.
Twilight coughed into her hoof, deciding to repeat her question with Flathoof. “So… Did you know that we had-”
There was a loud THUMP upstairs, like the sound of a heavy object hitting the wooden floor. The pair of ponies downstairs sipping coffee immediately looked up, and then Jam Sandwich glanced between them and looked up as well.
As if on cue Twilight, Flathoof, and Jam sprang for the stairs, each hurrying after the other to get upstairs and see what had caused the noise. Twilight had magic on her horn in less than a second, ready for a fight should they find the murdered back upstairs, ready to finish the job.
Whirling around the landing halfway up the stairs, Twilight literally flew up the rest of the way, banking hard and running to the room where the body had been found. The door was shut, so she yanked it open, stopping just in time before running into Bright Shine.
“Are you okay?” Twilight asked, looking around the room to check for intruders.
He was rubbing his forehead with a hoof, looking a little sore and embarrassed. “I… I tripped and hit my head,” he explained, placatingly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm anypony. I-” He glanced over Twilight’s shoulder at Jam, and then took note of Flathoof as well. “I’m fine. Don’t worry, really.”
Twilight frowned a little, but didn’t press the issue. She wasn’t about to start hurling accusations around - yet. “So what do you think?” She asked, changing the subject.
“Of the crime scene?” Bright Shine asked, glancing around the plastic sheet to look at the body again. “This wasn’t any regular murder. I don’t know exactly what happened here, but it was something horrible. They didn’t just kill him, they made him suffer first.”
Twilight nodded. She had already guessed that - It had looked like overkill from the moment she saw it, but it was nice to have her theory confirmed by an alleged expert.
“I’m going to get some photographs,” Shine continued. “But I think I’ve seen everything I need to here. Have you had breakfast?”
Twilight paused, taken off guard by the question. “No, I came straight here when I woke up,” she explained.
“Neither have I. I need to talk with you, get some information and discuss details of my investigation plans. Would you care to join me for breakfast? I hear that there’s a place at Sugarcube Corner that’s very good.”
Twilight had to think about it for a second, pointing out, “Sugarcube Corner is the bakery, not the location. And they are quite good.”
“So is that a yes?”
Nodding, Twilight Sparkle said, “That sounds alright.”
Bright Shine smiled. “Excellent. I’ll take these photos, and then we can decide how we’ll catch this killer.”
